Alien, Awakening
Page 20
“Where can I access the schematics for the teleportation device?”
Drone directed him to the amber console. The cursive symbols turned to gold. An elongated crystal began to grow from beside the display.
“Masterframe is building a data—”
A piercing screech of distress knifed from Drone. A crack appeared in the console, and the black veins of circuitry crumbled.
“What’s happening?”
“Masterframe is terminating. They have succeeded in breaching her shields. She will not allow her knowledge to fall into the trespassers’ keeping. We must evacuate immediately.”
T'Hargen wrenched the partial crystal from the console. He stared calculatingly at the cubicle.
There’s more than one way to de-tooth a laraxdon.
“Drone, can you—”
The world exploded around them.
~ ~ ~
A distant, violent rumble shook the edge of the air. It hit Kat’s heart like a mace swung by a Berserker. She gripped the rope tighter, lest her knees give way, and leaned her forehead against the tower she’d just descended.
Please, please don’t let him be caught in that.
A large hand gently squeezed her shoulder. She flinched.
“He seems a capable, resourceful chap. He’s certainly big enough to stop a charging Mallee bull,” Jacob said. “As a bettin’ man, I’d put money on him gettin’ out alive.”
She turned to him and managed a weak smile.
“Me, too.”
“Trog’s pits, Drone, was it necessary for you to push me so hard?”
The faint curse drifted like a tantalising promise that disappeared on a breath. She spun around, searching through the golden, late-afternoon light. Cheerful birdsong chirped from the red and gold wood as though taunting her audio senses with the avian equivalent of, ‘Nothing to hear here. Move along.’ The high-pitched shriek of a raptor—
No! That’s no raptor, that’s TL!
Hope exploded in her heart.
“T’Hargen! TL?” Joy coursed through her, amplifying her yell. “Where are you?”
TL’s excited warble mingled with T’Hargen’s bellow.
“Kathryn?”
“I’m here.” She turned another circle, panning her gaze to the horizon. No sign of them. She sprinted to the other side of the tower. The grassy plane stretched away, devoid of the man she loved and her friend. “Where are you?”
T’Hargen’s reply came so faintly she could not distinguish words. She ran back to where Jacob stood staring at one of the undamaged towers.
“Came from that one.” He pointed to the tower closest the wood. “Sounds like T’Hargen.” Jacob turned to her with raised eyebrows. “Guess we wouldn’t have lost our money.”
Wild jubilation burned through her, spurred her forwards. She sprinted to the tower, slammed her hands against the side, and ran them over it as though that way she could reach him.
“T’Hargen?”
“Stand back, Kathryn. Drone is preparing to cut our way out.”
She took a few steps back, ensuring the others were clear as well. Twenty or so feet up the tower’s side, the bright orange point of TL’s lasers drew the line of a rectangle.
“Clear below,” T’Hargen shouted.
The newly made hatch flew outwards then dropped to the grassy ground with a thump. T’Hargen peered out, crouched then leaped down. His head turned to her and his gaze locked on. Joy pounded her heart. She took a step towards him. He stared at her with such ardent intensity, as though he wanted to envelop her soul in the protective shroud of his.
He strode to her. His hand lifted, trembling as it hovered by her chin then slowly he slid the backs of his knuckles along her cheek. She closed her eyes and savoured his touch. His fingers threaded through her hair and cupped her nape.
“Look at me, Kathryn.”
His emotion-laden voice tingled through every part of her. She raised her lids and drowned in the tender passion blazing in his eyes. Then he drew her close until their foreheads pressed together in gentle meeting.
“I love you, too,” he murmured. “Now let’s get out of here.”
~ ~ ~
Fifteen days later T’Hargen stared out the huge glass windows fronting his home on G’areen to lush, green conifer forest and a long, deep valley. After debriefing and handing over the incomplete data crystal, he’d found the strength from g’Nel knew where to leave Kathryn on New Earth so she could help attend the rescued without distraction.
Fifteen days without her, and if I have to endure another moment I’m liable to start breaking things. My mind might be the first.
He flicked a glance at his timepiece.
Soon. She’ll be here soon.
Emotions seethed back and forth within him like ocean waves thundering against cliffs and crashing back. Joy that in the very near future he could hold her. A trace of apprehension about his ability to convince her he would be good in her life. His desire for her on a primal and spiritual level flamed through his veins with demanding ferocity.
She’d saved him. Saved his life from remaining trapped in a stagnant, dark hole. Saved his soul from endless rounds of misery. He needed her to know that. Needed her to know how much he valued her.
He’d hustled her and the captives back to the inter-planetary teleportation pillar for fear of Bluthen pursuit. But whatever actions Masterframe had incorporated in her sacrifice, she’d prevented the enemy from hunting them. Surrounded by the constant presence of the stressed humans, time alone with Kathryn had been non-existent.
They’d shared stolen, heated looks, brushed against each other with every opportunity. Frustration had rubbed alongside utter contentment. The friction of both emotions had sparked his blood until he thought he might combust with unfulfilled fantasies.
And when they’d appeared back on New Earth . . . What a pitka of commotion! People everywhere. His and Kathryn’s failure to report as scheduled on the evening of the day they’d left the planet had initiated search and rescue protocol. Their group had been able to transport as one and as they’d materialised on New Earth, twenty assault rifles had been trained in their direction. His brother had held a hand laser to Kathryn’s head.
T’Hargen breathed deep, his expanding lungs stretching the tense muscles across his shoulders. He’d nearly torn his brother’s head off with his bare hands. Now he knew how Eugen had felt when he’d thought T’Hargen had inadvertently killed Sandrea. No wonder his brother had nearly throttled him.
The Alliance personnel swarming the area had stood down at Eugen’s command, but it had taken some quick-witted assurance from Kathryn before Drone had de-cloaked, lasers glowing.
His smart, beautiful woman. g’Nel he missed her scent, her smile, her company. He just missed her. His fingers tightened around the cup of teeka in his hand and he turned his gaze from the vista to the welcoming fire in the stone hearth then around the sparse, masculine décor of his home. He’d done his best since getting home to lighten the mood of the house. Hadn’t realised how much of a cave he’d inadvertently made it with his deluded determination to exclude brightness from his life.
At least the cream floors lightened the dark-brown walls and black panelling, especially now he’d adjusted the default setting on the panoramic windows from blackout to twenty per cent shade. Straight lines everywhere. Too stark? Would she feel comfortable coming here?
T’Hargen checked his timepiece again.
Surely more time than that has passed?
He couldn’t wait for her to be here, in his home. By his side. Once, she’d thought she rubbed him the wrong way. Dear g’Nel, the images that popped into his mind of her rubbing him any way very nearly brought his heart to a standstill. Blistering longing pulsed through him, corded hi
s muscles with anticipation.
He had to get this violent craving to physically express his devotion to her under control or it would overwhelm him. He’d ravish her. Despite her size, he was so much larger, so much stronger than she. He could hurt her in a moment of undisciplined lust. And he’d be damned if he’d do anything to ruin this new beginning.
Have to get my mind on something else.
Pressing his lips to his teeth in determination he turned again to the monitor of his holding’s recent security feeds. The blurry, still image he’d captured and stared at for hours, days, taunted him. An uneven patch of white in shadow. Immature, domed, bald head. Grey skin with a flush of blue. Even after all this time analysing it, it continued to appear to him like a Bluthen child-ghost.
Highly unlikely. No doubt an inference suggested by the rumours. Most probably a youngster playing dress-up.
Yet something about it bothered him. Annoyance pricked him that he couldn’t pinpoint what. The form’s appearance did not coincide directly with an energy spike, but it had occurred on the same day. Again he checked his digital communications for replies to the alert he’d sent to neighbouring farms. So far all had responded, but still no one could supply information that might explain the figure.
He took a sip of teeka and stared into the golden, liquid depths of the mug. He’d stocked a supply of enchi for Kathryn. The day he’d arrived home. Yearning to learn all about her saturated his mind and his heart. What she liked, so he could provide it. What she disliked, so he could avoid it.
Almost of their own volition his eyes turned to his timepiece. Another rush of anticipation inflamed him. His shaft grew an eager inch.
Can’t pounce on her. Can’t pounce on her. Must treat her well. Show her how much she means to me, how much I value her, respect her. Will not destroy this chance.
He craved the closeness of her body, the spiritual contact of skin on skin that warmed his heart and sent a spiked charge of passion through his body. To have her naked beneath him . . . Another exquisite burn pulsed through his arousal. Desire throbbed in every cell of his cranial ridges. His breaths shallowed, came quicker. His fingers clenched. Something snapped within the crush of his grip. He opened his fingers and stared, bemused, at the crack running through the ceramic cup in his hand.
Frak’s guts! I must focus. Focus! Must be gentle. Must be gentle.
Hunger for her burned like a fever. Very carefully he replaced the cup on a bench in the food preparation area. He dropped his head back on his shoulders and stared at the black, crystal-crusted ceiling.
‘Don’t make me endure losing another man I love.’
He lifted his head, raised his clasped hands, and methodically thumped his forehead against the knuckles of his thumbs. How did Eugen cope with his unbridled passion for Sandrea?
Have to get these rampaging instincts under control.
Dear g’Nel, if she so much as smiled at him while he was in this state, he’d devour her. He couldn’t ignore the potential of him causing her harm. He had to do something to ensure her safety.
~ ~ ~
Kat adjusted the fit of her jacket over her shoulders. Again.
Stop fidgeting!
“You look fine.”
She halted by the shuttle that TL would pilot from the Enda to T’Hargen’s main holding on the planet G’areen and turned to the woman by her side. Sandrea radiated satisfaction like a sun shed light. And no wonder, with a man like General Mhartak to share her life. Sandrea held her arms open for a good-bye hug. Kat returned the embrace, kissing her friend lightly on the cheek, and stepped back.
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Sandrea’s gaze slipped to TL hovering by Kat’s side and back. “Why TL?”
Kat chuckled. “When we met I had just encountered a rather scary, spider-looking insect. I thought it may have injected me with a hallucinogen and I was having visions, so—”
“Ah!” Sandrea snapped her fingers. “Timothy Leary, of course!” Her head tilted to one side, her features smoothed into seriousness. “T’Hargen’s a good man, Kat, but he has . . . issues. The scars he carries are not just on his body. You’ll need patience with him.”
Lord, don’t I know it.
A sheepish grin crept across her lips. “He brings out the worst and the best in me.”
Sandrea nodded. “All good men do.” She took a step back and waved. “Have fun.”
Kat nodded and stepped into the shuttle. “Thanks for the lift.”
Sandrea waved away her gratitude. “No problem. The General had some matters to deal with in the area.”
Kat seated herself and secured the safety harness. Very soon she’d be with T’Hargen. Alone with him, because TL was going to have to make himself scarce. She had things to discuss with T’Hargen, things of an important where-do-we-go-from-here kind of nature. God, she was so thrilled to be seeing him again. The time without him had highlighted how much she wanted him in her life. Now that she’d allowed her love for him freedom, she wanted to grab him with both hands and hang on, scream for sheer joy and shout to the heavens. Excitement and a little nervousness wriggled through her stomach at the adventure opening before her.
A short while later, TL landed the shuttle in a grassy field. The feet of craggy mountains guarded a stylish, minimalistic house designed in offset, rectangular layers.
“If you require my assistance,” TL oopled, “I’ll be within hailing range. I wish to observe the caped lizards in their natural environment.”
He flew off into a nearby copse and she smiled at the recent memory of Sandrea’s caped lizard, Dexter, his little reptilian feet suctioned to TL’s back, golden cape flared in merriment, joy-riding through the corridors of the Enda. TL had taken quite a fancy to the creature.
She cast her gaze back to the apparently deserted house. No sign of T’Hargen. The happiness surging through her dimmed a little. She’d half-hoped he would be there to sweep her off her feet. Hell, who was she kidding, there was no ‘half’ about it. She’d fantasised that he’d be so delighted to see her after their separation that they’d be lucky to make it inside.
Of course, it might be he’s got a surprise for me.
She grinned, pulled in a bracing breath, straightened her shoulders, and hurried to the house. Gentle morning sunlight warmed her back as she strode up a straight, slate path towards a large wooden door. No sign of a bell, so she lifted a hand to knock. Before she made contact, the door swung open. Down a short corridor, T’Hargen stalked towards her, his expression and body stiff, his eyes wild like a man half-crazed with torment.
“Kathryn.” His voice sounded mixed with gravel, as though intense emotion tortured his larynx. Tension radiated from his big, rigid body. A kind of feral, protective anxiety blazed in his sea-green eyes. “Kathryn, I—” He swallowed. “I . . . can’t.”
Concern blasted her happiness to one side. What the hell is wrong?
His shoulders slumped then he turned and walked back into the house. His distress knifed at her and she followed on his heels into the pleasant dimness of the house, her eyes taking a moment to adjust after the harsh brilliance of sunlight.
He came to an abrupt halt, hands clawed by his side. She raised a hand to offer a touch of support.
He’d said ‘I can’t.’ Oh, God. Is this about me being here? Is my presence hurting him? Has something changed between that first wonderful time he told me of his love, and now? No! T’Hargen isn’t like that. This has been triggered by something else.
“T’Hargen, my love”—she rubbed her hand up his spine, the scale-plates there as hard as gemstones—“tell me what ails you. What causes this?”
Very slowly his fingers loosened from their curved rigour and he turned to her, head bowed. His chest heaved as some raw emotion drove his breath ragged then he lifted his head. Shame and
regret twisted his features.
“I’m sorry, Kathryn. I can’t . . .”
Apprehension and confusion curdled her belly. Was she wrong? She bit her lip, but wouldn’t let a possible heartache stop her from helping him. “Is it me?”
“What?” he whispered, then gazed at her with such forlorn longing her heart clenched. Focus tightened his features, his hands gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “No! No, Kathryn it is not you. It’s . . .”
If he tells me it’s him, I’m going to punch him.
“It’s”—T’Hargen rubbed his hand over his jaw—“me.”
She hit him. In the shoulder. Not too hard. Really.
His grip slid to her upper arms as though he needed to keep her right there. Or perhaps he thought she might turn from him.
“Kathryn, I want to make love to you.”
A warm infusion of relief rushed across her heart. She reached up and pressed her hand to the side of his face, those beautiful beard-plates so beguiling to her touch.
“Oh, T’Hargen, I want to make love to you, too.”
“But I can’t.”
Huh?
“Why not? Is something wrong?”
“Yes—” A horrified frown rippled his brow. “I mean I can. Of course I can, make love to you that is, but . . .” A sigh seemed dragged from some dark pit within him. His chin dropped to his chest then he lifted eyes radiant with lust and love.
“I can’t be gentle with you, not this first time. My need is too great, and I will not jeopardise this”—he swept a hand between them—“this new beginning for us. I want, I need to make our first time glorious. I need to show you I can be who you need me to be.” A crestfallen look saddened his face. “And yet here, at the beginning of it all I fail, because I can’t be what you need me to be.”