A Touch of Myst

by Lyz Kelley

  Frost nodded. “And he won’t need fuel for his body. The mist contains nutrients to keep his internal systems stable.” She turned to Waterman. “Do you have one of those for me?”

  “Sorry. Just the one.”

  Frost leaned to look out the front of the ship. “You need to take off. It will be daylight soon. My wife can only maintain an illusion until you reach the upper atmosphere. After that, avoid those satellites, or we will see you sooner rather than later.” Frost extended a hand to Waterman. “Keep them safe. Otherwise you will have to deal with my wife, and I promise you it’s more humbling than anything you can imagine.”

  Waterman nodded. “Raine and Beck are under my protection.”

  A nonverbal exchange happened between the men that Raine didn’t understand. “Okay, you two. Enough with this macho BS.” Raine pulled in a breath of hope. “We have a kid to heal.”

  “Right.” Waterman closed the protective metal covering of the medical pod, then handed Raine a bag.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Vomit.” He gave her a pointed stare. “During my first few flights, I lost the meal I’d just eaten. Cleaning stomach contents off electrical panels is not as easy as it looks. Trust me.”

  The word vomit triggered a sting in the back of her throat. “Great. Good to know.”

  Trust him? Funnily enough, she did.

  He pointed to a chair to the left of the control panel. “Strap in.”

  She did as he asked because she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her up, and sitting was a welcome relief.

  “All set?”

  Her heart pounded against her rib cage, and she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen.

  Other than that, she was f-i-n-e, as in freaked out, nervous, insecure, and an emotional wreck.

  She wrapped her hands around the straps crisscrossing her chest. “Ready.” Not.

  Chapter Seven

  The flight through Earth’s atmosphere had been bumpier than expected.

  “Lower shields to ten percent,” Myka commanded.

  “Shields at minimum capacity,” the ship's computer confirmed.

  “Engines. All check.”

  “Engines at seventy-six percent. Time to destination, thirty-nine hours, seven minutes, and eighteen seconds.”

  A breathy mumble made Myka glance over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  She hadn’t uttered a sound since leaving the planet’s orbit. At first, she’d gone pale, then curious, now he didn’t have a clue what she was feeling, except her hands were locked together in her lap.

  “Did she have to provide the seconds? I mean, what's the point?”

  “The seconds help avoid space collisions. Since our spacecraft can jump to light-speed, partial seconds can make the difference between arriving safely and crashing into another ship. We should have a smooth flight until reaching the meteor belt.”

  “Oh.” Her blush reminded him again how far apart their two worlds were. She sat unmoving. He wasn’t sure she was still breathing until she asked, “How fast are we going?”

  “This heap doesn’t go very fast.” He checked the navigational panel. “Right now we're going thirty-two times the speed of light.”

  Her eyes opened a bit wider. “Oh!” She swallowed. “It doesn’t feel like we’re going that fast.”

  He re-confirmed the coordinates and engine status and set the autopilot before unbuckling and pushing away from the console.

  “Where are you going? Don’t you need to drive this thing?”

  “The computer will alert me if there is a need. Right now I want to check on Beck.”

  “Beck?” She unbuckled and shot out of the chair. “I thought you said he would sleep.”

  He paused. “The medical panel says he’s fine. I just want to make sure he didn’t shift on takeoff. There was more atmospheric turbulence than I anticipated. I always feel it’s good to do a visual inspection.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  The worry in her eyes caused a push and pull reaction. He should push her away, but all he wanted to do was haul her into his arms. He hated seeing the anxious fret pinching her forehead, but admired her motherly concerns. She was a sturdy carrier. A woman of value. A mate he would keep safe—even if he wasn’t quite sure, given her abilities, how he could contribute.

  He touched her face and followed the ripples that spread like a stone had been tossed into a pond. Her pattern was extraordinary.

  “What are you smiling about, Waterman?”

  “Myka.” The sound came out more guttural and fierce then intended, and he could feel her body tighten.

  “How strange. I don’t understand what you just said.”

  “It’s my name. There is no translation for my given name in your language. I considered it best to describe my race. We are water people, and I am a Waterman.”

  Her laughter filled the hull, and he was pretty sure he’d never heard a more beautiful sound. “Say your name again, but slower.”

  He picked up her hand and again produced the semi-strange sound. She tried to pronounce his name, but the sound came out more akin to a walrus barking at her children. He didn’t care.

  Her eyes searched his. “Did I get it right?”

  “Not quite.” He loved that she’d cared enough to try.

  “I didn’t come close, did I?”

  He stifled a grin. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Then I’ll practice.” Her shoulders shook with a hearty laugh.

  He wasn’t sure if she was laughing at him or herself. She dabbed the edge of her eye with the corner of her sleeve.

  “I haven’t laughed so hard in…” She sighed. “Well, I can’t remember.” She placed her hand on his chest. “I understand you’ve honored me by giving me your name. I will practice until I get it right.”

  He dabbed the corner of her eye with his finger to absorb the liquid into his skin, then brought his finger to his nose for a long sniff. The fragrance reminded him of home—salty richness with a grain of sweetness.

  She rubbed her arms as if chilled. “Space is so beautiful.”

  “You should see my home planet. There is nothing more spectacular. We have two blue moons, and our planet is a color I can’t describe. Some say the water is so clear it’s celestial. The sky is almost azure, but richer. I look forward to the day I can go home.”

  “You sound as if you are not free to return.”

  “Let’s just say going back has gotten a bit complicated. It’s not like I can hop on the next transport to visit. I’m a Protector. I have orders.”

  “You never know what might happen. I certainly didn’t expect to be traveling through space at the speed of light. I thought space would be darker. When I look out, I see stars and planets.”

  “As we pass out of the Alpha Centauri’s system, the sky will darken,” he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her to give her warmth, “but as soon as the engines are powered fully, we will…”

  “Jumping to max speed,” the computer announced, “in five, four…

  “Here, quick,” he tugged her to the floor. “It will be safer for you down here.”

  “…two, one.”

  He tightened his grip. An instant later the gravity within the hull disappeared. He’d gotten used to seeing the flecks of time scattering into a spectrum of light and then solidifying an instant later. His body, along with hers, hit the deck with a small thump.

  Her arms flew out, and he caught her just as she collapsed into his arms.

  He should have helped her to her feet, but he liked feeling her in his arms, and a little off balance. He lowered his head and captured her mouth, teasing and sucking and nibbling the silky surfaces until he ran out of skin, and then searched deeper, sliding his tongue along the edges of her mouth.

  The little gasp of pleasure gave him permission to press in. When his air had depleted, he inched back and whispered. “You’re mine,” against her lips. A nanosecond later, her hands were planted on his chest and his
torso rocked backward.

  She scrambled to her feet and began straightening her shirt and sweater and brushing her hair off her face.

  “There you go again. I’m not yours,” she brushed a mass of curls off her forehead.

  “Well, technically you are. We are already mated.”

  “Oh, no, no, no, no.”

  “Yes. See?”

  He lifted the sleeve of his bio-suit back to show her the patterns undulating up his arms. “Our patterns will always be the same now.”

  “There must be a mistake.” She crossed her arms and closed inward.

  His mind reeled at the rejection. Did she find him unworthy? She must not understand. After all, it had been a hundred years since the Goddess granted his race the markings so they could see and prove their match, and confirm their worthiness.

  “May I see your arm? I want to show you something.”

  She huffed out a sigh and extended her hand. He gently slid up her long sleeve and pressed his forearm against hers.

  She gasped. “The patterns. They’ve changed. They are no longer separate.” Her eyes met his. Her mouth a bit opened. “There’s only a single pattern. The circular ripple runs across both of our arms.” She poked at her arm. The patterns shifted around her finger, but still maintained the broader pattern. She touched his skin to witness the same result.

  “We are no longer separate,” he couldn’t help the sadness from seeping into his heart over her continued denial. “The patterns only dance for a true mate.” He tucked the long strands of her hair behind her ear to better see her expression. “We are not a mistake.”

  “But I’m a little bit earthy, and you’re a little bit watery. We don’t mix.”

  The steady tingle of warmth returned. “Water by itself is nothing without the borders of the earth which hold him in her arms.” He couldn’t help but reach for her. “Yet the earth needs water to procreate. We are two halves of a whole.”

  She paced away and back. “Yet you live in a metal box. Nothing here is alive.”

  Uneasiness danced in her eyes and seemed to pull her inward. An understanding formed, and he brushed a hand up and down her arm. “Your energy. It comes from the living.”

  “It comes from the plants and animals and organic beings that touch the earth. Nothing here is real. A ship is a machine. I feel cold. It’s as if I’ve been buried in a tomb, and have no connection to the outside world.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and let the hum of the ship ease the conflict in his soul. “It’s like knowing you will never be able to go back home.”

  “No. Home is a state of mind.” She eased into his embrace. “It’s where you feel safe. Where you can be yourself without judgment.”

  He lifted his hand, needing to feel the softness of her hair. He tugged on a curl and let it spring back. “And, you believe you’ve found a home.”

  “I did until I made Beck sick.”

  He tipped her chin to look into her eyes. “You did not make Beck sick. The pod leaked.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No. The pod was never to be discovered. Had the energy grid been properly secured, the natural force field would never have been a problem.”

  She dropped her head to his chest. “You were on your way to check on Beck.”

  “And prepare your sleeping quarters. It will be a long journey.”

  “What about you?”

  “I will figure something out. It won’t be the first time I’ve strapped into the cargo nets for a snooze.”

  Raine reached for his hand. “I don’t like waking up in strange places,” she whispered, her cheeks brightening with what he assumed was embarrassment.

  “The sleeping rack is through the doorway on your left,” he pointed. “I will stand guard as you sleep.”

  “Why don’t you sleep? I’ll check on my son.”

  He hesitated. “I’m not sure you will be able to make the proper adjustments if there is a need. The controls are in my language. It will only take me a moment to check the medical pod and return.”

  “What if he wakes? Or his condition worsens? I’d like to check on him.”

  He nodded, and let her precede him through the hull door to observe her son through the glass shield.

  “The computer will alert us if there is a problem.” Myka forced his hands into fists, to avoid touching her. He drew in a long breath and let it out slowly.

  Mine. Echoed through his heart again, until his conscience questioned his worthiness.

  He wouldn’t think about what the elite would dictate, or what the future might hold. They had the power to reverse the mating and force Raine to bond to another. Now she’d been discovered, she would be vulnerable. Her life’s path was no longer hers to choose. But right now wasn’t the time to cause her more worry.

  He must focus on the present.

  He just hoped when he was called before the council, she’d choose him. He would protect her the best he could, but first he must help her and her son live.

  With each passing minute she was growing weaker, the infection slowly taking over her body.

  And she wasn’t even aware of it, because her only worry was for her son.

  His only worry was how to keep them both alive.

  Chapter Eight

  Raine figured the metal slab with a foam cushion Myka referred to was supposed to be the bed.

  “Toto, we’re not in New Mexico anymore.” She ran her hand down the shimmering fabric, which adjusted to her skin temperature.

  She eased back on the pad, then pressed her hand on the mattress again with the same result.

  The long, narrow bench thing wasn’t meant for anyone with hips or boobs or an ounce of fat. She turned to her side pillowing her elbow beneath her head.

  On the opposite wall appeared to be a kitchenette, complete with small compartments filled with silvery packages. She guessed food packets, but wasn’t sure. The idea of eating packaged food made her shudder, or the shiver could be the result of the hunk watching her from the doorway.

  Doubt tugged and unraveled the strings of her courage.

  The only other man she ever shared close quarters with had threatened to turn her and Beck over to the Paranormal Institute for testing after Beck inadvertently blasted her husband out of his room when he was threatened with a beating. She didn’t blame Beck. Her mother had left her on the local church steps ten years before because she wrapped her in catnip vines for giving her cat away.

  The PI had a reputation for making people disappear. She just made sure she and Beck disappeared before her husband had them both incarcerated.

  At least Myka had already witnessed her powers. He didn’t seem to be bothered by her craft, except when she used it against him.

  But then again, she didn’t think she’d mind a little tying up and misbehaving.

  It had been a long time since a man held her in his arms or gave her appreciative glances the way Myka did—and maybe for a little while being held by a strong, sexy Waterman would be okay. For now. He might consider her his mate, but when push and shove came together, the immortal would get bored eventually and move on, or she would die. Either way, he’d outlast her by thousands of years.

  She patted the bed. “Seems comfy.”

  He walked to her, sitting on the edge, and gently took her hand to play with her fingers. “Are you hungry?”

  Maybe for you, if you’re offering. “My stomach is still a bit queasy. I had better pass for now.” She studied the high ceiling and extra-long bed. “Do all watermen look like you? Your ship is built with high, wide passages.”

  He paused, searching her expression for her meaning.

  “I mean, are the men from your world tall and muscular and, well…handsome.”

  His blue eyes sparkled with a bit of humor. “You find me attractive?”

  “No. Well, yes. I was asking more in general about your anatomy.”

  His whole face lit with a spark of amusement. “You want to know if I’
m compatible. I assure you I will satisfy you.”

  Heat brushed up her neck. “That’s not what I meant, but your package is rather...impressive.” By the size of the bulge in his crotch, she wasn’t certain she could satisfy him. “But I was only talking about your size.”

  “Yes, I know.” He stretched out beside her and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck. He slowly pressed his lips against her mouth, then made his way down her neck. Her hands latched onto his waist to steady her nerves.

  “Um…Myka.”

  He kissed her throat. “Keep practicing my name.” As he repeated his name, warm air wafted across her skin.

  His lips ignited a liquid fire. When she brushed up against him, he responded with one of his guttural noises.

  “Woman. I want you. Will you allow it?” He shifted his body to press against hers to demonstrate his need.

  She didn’t need any further encouragement, the vibrations careening through her veins revving faster and faster. “Do you have any STDs or anything I should worry about?”

  “STDs?”

  “Are you clean?” she tried again.

  He snorted a laugh and continued to lick and tease her skin into a wave of goose bumps. “I have attended the brothels on Rigel, and the salt baths on Deneb, and the sex caves on—”

  “I don’t need your sexual history. Do you have any diseases I should be concerned about?”

  “I’m pure.” He elongated the word like a cat purr, soft and smooth and rumbling.

  The doctors had told her she’d hemorrhaged after Beck was born. She couldn’t have any more children. Though later she discovered that her husband, whose name would never again pass her lips, had given the order to have her tubes tied.

  Myka’s hand touched her breast, and her nipples sought his attention.

  “Woman?” His breath pounded against her skin. She tipped her head back and let him nibble his way up her neck. “I want you.”

  “Then take me,” she begged on a lustful exhale.

  “My pleasure.”

  He trailed a warm hand up the back of her leg, then around her hips to unbutton and unzip and roll her jeans and briefs down her legs.