Torel

by Susan Hayes

  He ran a hand over his bearded jaw. He’d grown the beard while on vacation and kept it because his mother had liked it. “You look tired,” she’d told him during their last day together. “Not your body, but your soul. You push yourself too hard. Find something that makes you happy and indulge yourself once in a while. There’s more to life than work, Torel. Your father and I are grateful for all you’ve done for us, and so very proud of you. It’s time to take care of yourself.”

  It was good advice, but he’d spent most of his adult life working toward two goals: excelling in his career and making sure his parents would spend the rest of their lives financially secure. Now he’d achieved those goals, he had no idea how to switch gears. Not that he planned on trying. He knew what he had to do next- ensure his race continued. It would be the work of a lifetime.

  A few hours later, Torel was on a shuttle headed to Earth. It was his first visit, and he was curious to experience the place for himself. He’d been studying the planet and its inhabitants for more than a year, but there were some things data couldn’t tell him.

  The scenery displayed on the wall monitor was breathtaking. The city of Vancouver was nestled between soaring mountains and one of Earth’s many oceans, and he had a brief pang of regret he hadn’t taken Vadir up on his offer.

  The shuttle slowed its descent as they approached the city, and several military craft fell into formation around them. “I didn’t know we were getting an honour guard,” he said.

  Commander Denza glanced over at him and shook his head. “We’re not. They’re our security escort, assigned by the humans for our protection.”

  Torel sat up straighter in his chair. “Why do we need protecting? And what do they think their craft can accomplish that ours couldn’t do better?”

  “Apparently, not all the humans are celebrating our arrival. A small faction has formed decrying our arrival as a threat. They are also opposed to the agreement with their governments allowing us to claim human females as mates. We were only made aware of this issue upon our arrival in orbit.” The commander’s frown deepened. “If we had known, we would have changed plans, which is why we weren’t informed.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Kash.” Maggie, Joran’s Earth-born princess, said. “Security was doubled at your request, and almost everyone there today will either be part of the gathering or be hoping for a match of their own someday.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Kash grumbled.

  “I know you don’t, but that’s because you take your job seriously.” Gwen, another human female, leaned over and kissed her mate on the cheek. “You really need to try and smile, though. You’re terrifying when you get all grumpy and fierce, and that’s not the message we’re going for today.”

  Torel laughed. “If you want him to smile, just give him Hope to hold. He’ll be grinning in seconds.”

  “And making silly noises, too. I like this idea. It will show the humans we are as devoted to our children as we are to our mates.” Joran reached out to take Maggie’s hand. “Make that happen, will you, Gwen?”

  The banter continued for the next little while, but Torel retreated from the conversation. While he was on friendly terms with everyone present, things had changed since Joran and Kash claimed their mates. It wasn’t that he was being deliberately excluded, but he didn’t quite feel like he belonged in their circle any longer.

  He turned his attention back to the monitor and almost immediately spotted the white dome of the stadium where the Gathering was happening. The shuttle slowed and began its final descent a few seconds later, and he watched as they made straight for the opening at the top of the dome.

  An air of anticipation took hold as everyone peered at the monitors.

  “Almost home,” Maggie said, quietly.

  Joran cleared his throat. “That is not your home any longer, my seska. You are of Pyros, now.”

  They were all laughing at her slip when a deafening boom tore through the air. Before he could move, the shuttle started to shake and pitch, throwing him against his safety harness. The cabin filled with grunts and curses as the overhead lights flickered and several more explosions rocked the ship. The shuttle banked hard to the left and started to climb so quickly the inertial dampeners couldn’t keep up. The g-forces pressed him down into his seat, and by the time Torel could move again, they were clear of the stadium.

  He glanced at the monitor and his stomach twisted. A plume of dark-grey smoke spiraled up out of stadium’s open roof. He looked over at Kash, who was already barking orders into his communicator, trying to find out what had happened. Torel pulled out his own communicator and accessed the medical emergency sub-channel. What should have been a joyous occasion had just been transformed into a nightmare. He sent out an alert, notifying the medical officers on every ship to man their posts and dispatch medics to the surface as soon as it was safe to do so. Soon, he’d be back on the Firebrand, awaiting the first casualties. Until then, all he could do was prepare and pray for the wounded.

  Chapter Two

  The first few times Haley roused, it was to a dark world full of jagged pain. Her head felt like it was full of broken glass, and even the slightest movement caused a symphony of agonies. Every time she tried to move or open her eyes, the pain would rise to a crescendo and she’d fall back into the darkness again.

  She drifted like that for a long time, fading in and out without ever really waking. Somewhere along the way the pain stopped, but she didn’t know when or how. Wakefulness came slowly, and with it came fragments of memories -- brief flashes that played in her head like bits of spliced-together film. The first terrible blast. Terror. Her and Piper, running for one of the exits as the world erupted around them. She’d fallen, twisting an ankle. She remembered Piper yelling at her, telling her to get up and get her shoes off. Running again. Chaos, fear, and then a tap to the back of her head, followed by a long stretch of nothing.

  She drifted again, but over time, soft sounds began to intrude on her consciousness, coaxing her to wakefulness. There was something familiar about wherever she was, and it made her uneasy.

  I’m not going to figure it out until I open my eyes.

  She cracked one eye open. At first, all she saw was white. White walls. White ceiling. Stark and pristine, like a hospital –. Shit, no. She hated hospitals. She’d spent too much time in them watching helplessly as Jeff wasted away. The doctors had done their best, she knew that, but she’d learned to dread their hushed conversations in the corner of the room as they consulted with each other about how best to hold off death a little longer.

  Someone appeared in her field of vision. A bearded blond man with shadows under his eyes. He was wearing a black uniform instead of a white coat, and there wasn’t a stethoscope around his neck, but something made her certain he was a doctor. She raised her head and grabbed his hand. “Where am I? Where’s Piper? What happened!”

  The moment her hand touched his, a brilliant blue spark arced between them, bright enough to dazzle her eyes. No. She snatched her hand back as disbelief and denial hit her like a one-two punch. “Please tell me you’re human and that was just a bit of static discharge.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before answering. “I am Pyrosian, not human. You’re aboard one of our ships, the Firebrand. You were badly injured in the attack…” He raised his hand, his gaze locked on the point where the blue spark had struck his skin. “This can’t be.”

  Haley was trying to sort through too much information to make sense of any of it. “I’m on a ship? In space? No, no, no. You’re not supposed to take women who weren’t matched!” She’d read the rules, and they were very clear about that. Consent was important. She tried to sit up, but the moment she moved, the blond snapped out of his fugue and put a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back down.

  “Lie still.”

  She glowered at him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  He met her gaze, his green eyes narr
owed and his square jaw set in a stubborn line. “When you arrived here, your skull was fractured in multiple places and you were bleeding internally. Until I am satisfied you are fully healed, you are in my care, and that means I do, in fact, get to tell you what to do. Now, lie down and stay still.”

  “Fractured? How long have I been here?” She reached up to touch the back of her head, expecting to find some evidence of what he was saying. Shaved hair. Wounds. At least a bandage. There was nothing out of place.

  “You were found shortly after the attack and brought here for treatment. That was yesterday. You should recover rapidly, but it will still be a few days before you are back to full strength.”

  “I was with someone. A woman with blue hair and a double dose of attitude.”

  He shook his head, his expression regretful. “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen anyone matching that description, and I’ve been here since the first patients arrived.”

  “But that was yesterday! How can you still be on your feet?”

  “I was needed.” The blond shrugged as if staying up for more than a day was nothing special. “You’re the one who needs rest.”

  “I’ll rest later. Right now, I want answers. Was that really the Spark? What’s your name? How can I find out what happened to my friends?”

  He ignored her questions. “You’ll rest now.” He pressed something on the panel above her head, and the world started to slip away again.

  “Don’t you dare—” she managed, before the darkness rose up and claimed her again.

  Torel stared down at the unconscious female and swore under his breath. “Flames and fury. I’m mated.”

  He reached for his mate’s hand, craving contact. As his fingers closed around hers, he tried to make it look as if he were merely checking her pulse rate. A weak ruse, considering her bio-readings were clearly displayed on the monitor above her head.

  He withdrew his hand and fisted it at his side, determined not to touch her again until she regained consciousness. He’d only given her a light dose of sedative; she’d be awake again soon. He shouldn’t have sedated her at all, but she was still recovering from her injuries, and he didn’t want to jeopardize her health with any sudden shocks – like confirming the spark she’d seen wasn’t static discharge, but destiny.

  All he knew about the female the Gods had sent to disrupt his life was that she was tall for a human female, with a thick mane of red-brown hair and dark eyes. Her voice had been pleasing, and her questions had been intelligent and succinct. The monitor’s data showed she was in her mid-thirties by human measurements, and she was in good health apart from her recent injuries. It wasn’t enough. “I don’t even know your name,” he murmured softly.

  He wanted to know more. Flames. He wanted to know everything, and they’d barely met. How was he going to help save his race if he couldn’t focus on anything but her?

  “Torel? We’re having trouble stabilizing one of the human patients.” One of his staff interrupted his musings.

  “Which one?”

  “Keth’s mate, Eva.”

  He should have guessed. She’d undergone two bouts of extensive treatment, but something wasn’t right. The scans didn’t show anything, but there was too much they didn’t know about human biology. “I’ll be right there. How is Keth coping?”

  The medic gave a quick shake of his head. “If she doesn’t wake soon, he’ll have to be placed in stasis.”

  It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only option they had. Once the Scorching had started, there was no way to stop it. With Eva too injured to consummate the mating, Keth had no way to ease the mating fever. “Better get him prepped. He doesn’t have much time.”

  He looked down at the sleeping female. Because of her, he was running out of time, too. No one in the thrall of the Scorching was allowed to remain on duty. He needed to inform his second in command and step down as the chief medical officer until he was clearheaded again. Those were the rules. He’d enforced them himself, more than once. He thought he’d understood the sense of powerlessness and frustration Commander Denza and the others had felt. He hadn’t then, but he did now.

  He had a little time left. He’d use it to do what he could for Keth and his mate. Maybe by then, he’d have some idea what to say to his own mate.

  He should probably start by introducing himself.

  When Torel finally informed his staff what had happened, they were uniformly delighted. Their enthusiasm far exceeded his own and they shooed him out of the medical center with instructions to shower and change before his mate saw him again. He’d been officially relieved of duty and a team would transfer his mate to his rooms. Until the Scorching ended, she would be his only patient.

  By the time he stepped out of the shower, a hushed murmur of voices came from the main room of his quarters. He dressed quickly, donning a comfortable pair of pants and a dark, sleeveless shirt. The Scorching was already starting to affect him strongly, wreaking havoc with both his body and his mind. His skin was sensitive, and his cock was in a perpetual state of arousal. The thought of wearing anything heavy or fitted was decidedly unappealing.

  Worse than the physical changes were the mental ones. It was hard to focus on even the simplest task, and he grew more and more agitated the longer he was separated from his mate.

  “Why have you done this to me?” he muttered. Not that he expected an answer. The Gods didn’t have to explain their decisions. It was up to their followers to accept what came and find a way to make it work somehow. There was always a way. With that thought fixed in his mind, he squared his shoulders and re-entered the main room.

  He padded barefoot across the room to the edge of his bed and looked down at his mate. She was still sleeping, but her hands moved restlessly across the covers. Her cheeks were flushed, too, and a quick touch to her brow confirmed that her temperature was slightly elevated. The Scorching had taken hold of her as well.

  “She’s rousing quickly, sir,” one of the medical staff informed him as they prepared to depart.

  “I can see that. What were her scans like before you moved her?”

  “Her fractures are ninety-four percent set and healing well. Only small traces of soft tissue damage remaining. No cognitive or neurological issues detected. She’s been cleared for full release into your care. If she needs pain medication, a droid will bring it to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  They left, but he barely registered their departure. All his attention was on her. The need to touch her was a physical ache, but he resisted. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, close enough he could feel the heat of her body soaking into his skin even through the light sheet they had tucked in around her. She was garbed in the standard pale-yellow pajamas issued to all patients, and his mind was full of images what she’d look like once he’d torn them off her.

  He fisted his hands on his thighs and exhaled sharply. That was not going to happen. Even if it killed him.

  Haley woke up much faster this time. The moment she was fully awake, she knew something was different. The lighting, the feel of the bed, the sounds, even the scent of the air had changed. She opened her eyes and sat up, determined not to let anyone push her around this time.

  One thing was the same. The blond guy beside her, only this time he was sitting on a bed. An actual bed. She whipped her head around, ignoring the dizzy spell the motion caused. Bed. Furniture. Soft colours. Carpets. This was not the same place she had woken up last time. “Where am I? Who the hell are you? And before you answer, don’t think I don’t remember you were the one who roofied me when I asked too many questions. Do that again and I’ll…I’ll write something scathing about you and your people and make sure the government hears what you did.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin that made him look sexy as hell. Her anger vanished, seared away by a sudden, powerful rush of longing. She wanted him. Badly.

  What the hell is going on?

  “I will answer your questions in order. You are in my qu
arters. I know that seems strange, but I will explain the reasons soon. My name is Torel Zinn, and I am the Chief Medical Officer assigned to the Firebrand, the royal flagship of the Pyrosian fleet. As for my choice to sedate you, I am sorry about that. I was worried the shock of what had just happened would be detrimental to your recovery.”

  She stared at him and tried to recall the details of their first meeting. What had happened that would shock her? She woke up, asked about Piper and then—“Oh shit, the Spark.”

  “The Spark,” he repeated, nodding. “Do you know what it represents?”

  “Your people believe it means we’re a good match, right? That’s what the Gathering was supposed to be about. Getting potential matches together to see if they initiate a spark.” He hesitated just long enough for her reporter instincts to buzz. “What am I missing?” she asked.

  “The Spark is more than an indication of compatibility. It indicates that we have found our true mate. It also heralds the onset of what we call the Scorching.”

  “And what the hell is that? The information you people sent out didn’t mention anything about this Scorching thing.” She leaned forward, ignoring the fact the move put them even closer together. She could smell the soap he’d used, a subtle musky scent that made her want to bury her nose in the crook of his neck and breathe deep.