Spaceport: Paralyzer

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Spaceport: Paralyzer Page 2

by Marteeka Karland


  Starla felt the flush creep up her face almost instantly. “That’s not what I meant,” she snapped. “I meant, if I had been the primary target, it would have made more sense to threaten a head of state or someone important.”

  “She really is a piece of work, Tygor,” Posh chuckled.

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “Save it!” Tygor bit out, looking mildly disgusted. “If you’d done your homework before taking this mission, you’d know why a ‘high ranking mage’ was sent to ‘babysit’.” He stressed the words she’d used and drew them out sarcastically. This situation had deteriorated about as far as it could possibly go without someone ending up dead. From the look on Tygor’s face, he could start maiming any second.

  “OK, bad word choice. I simply meant the Vastus does not send a mage to protect a rock star.” She couldn’t back down now. She’d already shown more weakness than she ever should have.

  Tygor wrapped a massive hand around her throat and shoved her backward until she pressed tightly against the wall. Starla felt trapped. Caught. “They do if the rock star in question is the only son of the Continuum Master with magical powers of his own they’d love to domesticate.”

  All Starla could do was stare. Her brain simply would not wrap around the concept of what she was hearing. “Master Singin?”

  “The one and only.” Tygor released her throat, but not his invasion of her personal space. He simply stood there, looking down at her from his superior height. He seemed to look her over and find her lacking in almost every way.

  Starla felt naked, exposed. She had the ridiculous urge to cover herself, and it unnerved her. No man had ever made her feel so totally inept as Tygor. His father had been her mentor, for Goddess’ sake! Why was he treating her like this? She felt a flush creep hotly up her throat to her cheeks.

  Narrowing her eyes, she stared at Tygor, focusing her power on him in a burst of anger. At first, she saw surprise in his brilliantly blue eyes, then he grinned and took a predatory step forward. “Sorry, little mage. You’ll have to do better than that.”

  It hadn’t worked. She should have rendered the arrogant singer as helpless as she had the would-be assassin, but she’d felt her magic just dissipate. Impossible! No one but the creator of a magic could evaporate it. What the hell had just happened?

  Starla couldn’t help her gasp. She’d have turned and run if she could have. As it was, she banged her head on the wall behind her in an involuntary retreat.

  “What the hell did you do?” Her whisper seemed loud to her. They stood so close, she could feel the heat from his naked chest, smell the wild maleness of his skin.

  Out of nowhere, his rugged masculinity hit her with the force of a nuclear blast. Her cunt contracted and gushed fluid from her body, readying her for sex. The blood rushed to her face and dizziness almost overwhelmed her. With a small cry, Starla sank down the wall as her knees slowly gave way.

  “There she goes.” Posh’s voice seemed to come from a long way away as her ears roared and her vision narrowed to include only Tygor. She looked helplessly at him as his arms closed around her. A second later her world went black.

  Chapter Two

  Every nerve ending in his body screamed for him to take her and fuck them both into oblivion. Tygor had never experienced anything quite like this before, and it took all his strength of will to pretend nothing was wrong. His father had told him about this, but having chosen not to be part of the Vastus, he’d never thought he’d experience it.

  Tygor didn’t understand all of it, but the Continuum Master had explained it as every mage having his or her own magical harmonics, much like musical chords. Obviously, mages would “harmonize” well with some mages and clash horribly with others. He’d said that if the magical harmonics of two mages were absolutely perfect, it would act as an amplifier for their emotions. Basically, the more their magic interacted, the more their feelings for each other would manifest themselves -- positive or negative. When he’d countered her spell, not only had those spells destroyed each other, but it marked the first time both his and Starla’s magic had had a chance to intermingle. Given that he already wanted to screw them both into oblivion, the perfect harmonics of their magic made it a hundred times worse.

  Boy, did his dad have it right! He’d never felt anything so strong, or so all-consuming. If she hadn’t passed out, he might have simply torn her clothes from her body and fucked her right there. As it was, he needed to get her back to his rooms before unfriendly eyes found them.

  For the first time in living memory, Tygor was glad he had his magical abilities to draw upon. His special gift was portals. He could open a portal to anywhere as long as he’d been there before to know the layout. It took little effort to open one from the tiny basic apartment to his spacious suite. Scooping up the limp form of Starla was even easier. Putting her down would be much harder.

  “What do you want to do now?” Posh had moved next to him, picking up the few stray items they’d brought with them.

  “I’ll change her appearance, lay down the law, and hope to hell she’s not as stubborn as I am.”

  “We need to get back to the Continuum. Your father’s not going to be pleased when he hears of this.”

  “Hears of what? That I was right and the assassins were after his precious Paralyzer, or that they didn’t kill me?”

  “Your father doesn’t want you dead, Tygor.” He looked at Posh. The other man gave him a fierce look. “You’re his only son. He wants you to be happy.”

  “He wants me to be part of the Vastus. He doesn’t care about my happiness. He wants me for my abilities as badly as the IAC does.”

  The gateway shimmered and hummed quietly, as though it was electrically charged. Before Posh could answer, Tygor stepped through. No matter how many times he traveled this way, he never quite did it without stumbling. It was like walking through a door only to miss a slight step down. He tried to compensate, but it never seemed to be enough. When he arrived in his suite, he staggered forward and almost landed in a heap on the floor with Starla blessedly underneath him. If she’d only been conscious at the time, it might have been worth falling on his face to have her writhing underneath him.

  He groaned. The sexual need that hit him again when he thought about what exactly he’d like to do to the young mage made his eyes cross. Her weight was slight yet, and he was loath to put her down. For a few moments, he just stood there staring at her.

  “You going to put her down and do some magic, or what?”

  Tygor looked back over his shoulder at Posh. The amused grin brought him back to reality from his erotic fantasy world and he growled. Back on track now, Tygor moved swiftly to his bedroom -- he didn’t want to think about it! -- and gently laid her on the satin comforter.

  She was sleekly muscled from head to toe. Her short-cropped chestnut hair looked like she took scissors to it randomly whenever a curl got in her way. Little makeup graced her face, making her seem much younger than he knew her to be. The long column of her throat tempted him beyond belief, and he found himself sinking slowly toward her.

  “Damn, Tygor. You look a little shell-shocked.” Tygor jumped just before his lips touched Starla’s skin. “Everything OK?”

  He groaned as he stood and turned to Posh. “Shut up.”

  “Hey.” Posh grinned and raised his hands in surrender. “Just making sure. What now?”

  “She gets a makeover.”

  “Somehow, I doubt it’ll be one she likes.”

  Tygor couldn’t help but grin. “Probably not.”

  “What’d you have in mind?”

  * * *

  Tygor hadn’t used his magic in more years than he cared to think about before today. Still, he’d done a fantastic job of altering Starla’s appearance if he did say so himself. Her face was still the same -- plus a few exotic decorations -- but the rest of her had changed dramatically.

  She’d probably not be happy when she woke up, but the change in her appearanc
e muted his reaction to her somewhat. Out of sight, out of mind, his mother always said, but he was having limited results. Using his magic on her had been pure hell. This was yet another reason to bury his powers deep within himself and never use them again.

  “You’re in so much trouble when she wakes up, I don’t even want to think about it.” Posh, ever the helpful one, laughed when Tygor “unveiled” his handiwork.

  “Maybe, but it’s for her own good.”

  “Why not just hire her safe passage back to the Continuum? Why take her yourself? We’ve got gigs all over the sector. If we take her back, we’ll have to cancel at least five of them. Two of those get you practically inside IAC black ops cells. Do you really want to give that up?”

  Posh was right. The Interplanetary Alliance Council had secret terror cells deep within their black ops program. They worked together to increase the need for protection of planets under their control. It was Tygor’s intent to expose them. If he could nail even one, it might be the leverage the new council members needed to shut it all down.

  “No, but I have a bad feeling. She’s a Paralyzer. If the IAC can get her away from the influence of the Continuum and the Vastus, they might be able to use her power to hurt a lot of people.”

  “I’ve learned to let you go with your feelings, Tygor. I’ll go ready the ship. At best, though, it will be tomorrow night before we’re able to leave. We’re locked down until the last show. Part of our contract.”

  “I know.” Tygor scrubbed his face. He’d always hated that part of the contract with The Haze, but anyone who wanted the money the bar of Spaceport Adana offered had to agree to the standard contract, which included a specific number of play dates. If one canceled, more than just money was forfeit. They’d lose their ship and their passes to remain aboard the station. That made life pretty difficult. “Do what you can so we can leave as soon as the show’s over. We leave anything behind we can’t carry offstage with us immediately.”

  Posh raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

  “Deadly, Posh. Something’s happening. I haven’t used magic since I left the Continuum seven years ago, but I can feel it. There’s something in the currents. The harmonics are wrong.” He shook his head. Starla’s own harmonics blunted everything else, but it wasn’t the way it had been before. There was something sinister in the mix.

  Posh reached for his shoulder and clasped it hard in an understanding, encouraging grip. “I know better than to dismiss your intuition. If that’s the way you say it needs to be, then we’ll do it your way. I’ll let everyone know.” The other members of the band wouldn’t be happy, but they all knew what they’d been formed to do.

  Being one of the hottest bands in the IAC got them invited to places where important people in shady organizations conducted business. Those types of people lived dangerously, and their music and play times reflected that. Darkest Knight had established itself as part of that hard partying scene over the last few months. They were slowly but surely entrenching themselves in a secret society.

  As Posh left to begin preparations, Tygor contemplated the woman on the bed. He’d seen to her injuries -- which weren’t as severe as they could have been. They’d mended nicely, though she still slept. The medical equipment had put her into a deep, healing sleep for several hours to allow the repairs to her skin and muscle time to seal. Once she was out, he’d gone to work on her appearance.

  She now looked nothing like the lithe, fairy-like mage he’d first met. Her body was still sleekly muscled, but she was more voluptuous than before, and her creamy skin now held a hint of violet. The cropped hair was now waist length and inky black except for tendrils of snow white around her face. There were decorative, ruby-red gems around her eyes and down her cheekbones. Her lips were the same shade of glorious red, inviting a man to kiss them if he chose. Her eyes were lined with black kohl and would be an eerie red when she opened their lids.

  He’d done a good job making her look radically different. It didn’t seem to be working for his own peace of mind and body as well as he’d hoped though. Underneath all that magic, Starla still resided.

  As he looked at her lying atop his bed with a thin blanket covering her naked body, he wondered what it would be like to shed his own clothing and crawl under there with her. Would she welcome him? Would she fight him? If the look in her eyes earlier was any indication, she’d roll them over, climb on top of him, and have her wicked way. There was no doubt she was as affected as he was, but what would she do about it?

  Tygor was about to leave Starla to her rest when her eyelids fluttered open. Heat burned in her eyes when she looked at him, and he felt himself falling. Falling. Falling. Into her. Into the heat they seemed to share through their magic. He’d been wrong. The change in her appearance didn’t help him at all. He wanted to fuck her even more than ever. He’d almost reached her lips when she blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Tygor almost jumped back like a schoolboy caught making out with someone other than his girlfriend. Instead, he simply smiled and continued his downward movement to her lips.

  When they met, Tygor swore an electric current sparked through his body. She jerked back from him, only to groan, grab his hair with a tight-fisted yank, and fuse her lips to his.

  She tasted desperate, hungry. The same way he felt. His body screamed at him to take her, willed him to jerk back the covers over that delectable body and plunder it with his own. As it was, he gripped the bed with his fingers and dug them into the mattress. It was the only way to keep from acting on the demands of his body.

  They tangled their tongues together, each fighting for dominance, neither gaining the upper hand. Tygor wondered if she was suffering as much sexual frustration as he was. His senses were filled with her essence, and he could think of nothing else, not even that he needed to prepare her to leave ’Port Adana. He wanted to taste the cherry sweetness of her lips, smell the clean scent of her skin. Her skin was like fire branding him everywhere her hands and body touched his. Whimpers of sexual need filled his ears, and he wasn’t sure if they came from her or him.

  He knew he needed to stop this before it went too far. Stop it before he did something they would both regret, but he didn’t have to. As suddenly as she’d begun this sensual adventure, she shoved him away. Tygor wanted to groan, but bit the inside of his cheek to prevent it.

  She had a haunted look about her. Tygor knew the feeling. He felt like his body was no longer his to control, and it was unnerving, to say the least.

  “What have you done to me?” she croaked, her voice husky and low as if she could barely speak.

  “You started it, sweetheart. I just went along for the ride.” He tried to give her his cockiest grin, but was sorely afraid it came off as strained as he felt. Tygor thought his cock might explode any second. That would end his illusion of control in a hurry.

  “Not that, you moron, me! Look at me!”

  “Oh.” He shook himself, feeling very much the moron she’d named him. “I could always turn you back. Let those men trying to kill you have a clear shot.” The annoyance in his voice wasn’t an act. Of all the things happening around him, this was the last on his mind at the moment, and it irked him to think she was more affected by her change in appearance than the kiss they’d shared a moment ago. Those jilted feelings were what prompted him to add, “At least now you have some curves. A lover needs a little cushion if he’s going to ride all night.” Even through the darker complexion he’d given her, he could see the flush of her delicate skin. That was way out of line.

  He expected a scathing remark at the very least, but Starla didn’t say anything. She simply wrapped the blanket around her as tightly as possible and asked regally, “Bathroom?”

  Tygor pointed to an adjacent room. True, their relationship had started out a tad rocky, but this was totally unacceptable. Damn magic to hell and back! He’d always hated it, now he hat
ed it even worse. He’d never known lust so strong. It was taking over his mind. True, the character he portrayed on stage was a crude bastard, but this wasn’t about his rock star persona. This was about him needing Starla like he’d never experienced need before. He’d been rude to her in the last two weeks, intentionally taking her words the wrong way just to piss her off, but he’d never so deeply insulted someone in his life. If his mother had been alive, she’d have slapped him, and he deserved it.

  Chapter Three

  Tygor had softened her mind along with her body. Damned if she wasn’t about to cry. Her strategic retreat to the bathroom felt too much like running away. She’d spent her whole life making her body fit enough to back up anything her magic couldn’t handle.

  Tygor had transformed her into the very woman she was never allowed to be. She’d convinced herself she didn’t want to be the sultry sex goddess, but the truth was, she simply never thought she could be. She’d always thought such women weak, but the reality was they had power she had never even imagined. And they didn’t have to use magic.

  He’d been right, of course. Men loved curves on a woman. Some of them thought it proved they were physically stronger, but the reality was curves were sexy.

  Starla McIntyre wasn’t sexy.

  The woman Tygor had made was, and this was the woman she desperately wanted to be. She’d been so out of control when he’d kissed her. Her dramatic change hadn’t been apparent to her then, but now she realized he must be attracted to his own creation. Silly of her to think she could gain the attention of someone like Tygor Gold.

  As she stood before the vanity, one tear leaked from her eye and down her discolored cheek. She couldn’t help but look at the new woman in the mirror. She’d never had boobs to speak of before. Now, they were more than a handful and stood high and proud, their dark purple nipples pebbling in the breeze as the air circulated around her gently. Her hips flared dramatically from a tiny waist and long, full legs stretched elegantly to the floor. A head of sparkling black hair topped her head, accented by snow-white locks at the crown and around her face, flowing down her back past her waist.

 

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