“Lights to ten percent.” He snuggled in closer and buried his face in her hair. “Rest well,” he whispered.
“You too.”
Despite the temptation in his arms, blissful sleep immediately claimed him.
ARTON WAS STILL A CHILD when he learned the difference between regular and prophetic dreams. Regular dreams were soft, surreal, and often nonsensical. Prophetic dreams, by comparison, were harsh and intrusive. They always left him feeling invaded and slightly abused. He hadn’t asked for this gift, hadn’t undergone medical procedures to attain it as so many harbingers did. His kind—those born with their powers already active—were known as organic. And their abilities were always vast, and extremely hard to control.
An oppressive weight settled over his body, paralyzing his muscles while opening his mind. He’d learned not to struggle against the feeling, resistance brought horrible pain. Reality faded until he hung suspended in a pitch-black void. No color, no motion, no sound, just an endless blackness. This part could last for hours. It was one of the reasons he tried so hard to summon visions while he was awake, rather than letting them happen spontaneously. When he was awake, his chances of controlling the progression were increased greatly.
A female’s throaty moan penetrated the darkness and his heart began to pound. This was how the other vision started. Would he now learn more about his “elves”? He wanted to know more about them, needed to understand why he’d seen them in the first place. Nothing was more frustrating than a segmented vision with no context or apparent meaning.
The moaning grew louder and Arton sighed. It was not the same voice. This one was pitched higher. She sounded younger.
His body floated down through the blackness. Currents of warm air caressed his bare skin. He was naked, which didn’t surprise him. People were often naked in his visions. He felt the air around him change. It seemed to crackle with electricity.
Suddenly he was hovering over a ship’s cabin. A couple shared pleasure on the narrow bunk. The male was on top, as Rodytes preferred it. He could barely see the female. She clung to the male, arms and legs wrapped around him as he moved with obvious purpose between her thighs.
He didn’t need to see her face to know this was Jillian and Stront. But was this confirmation of the course everyone planned to take, or some sort of warning?
As if hearing his grumbling thought, the vision shifted. Jillian, now fully dressed, wandered through dense trees. “Stront?” Fear twisted her delicate features as she called out for her mate again and again. The leaves were green not turquoise as they were on Rhett. How strange.
“Stront! This isn’t funny. Where are you?” She huddled against one of the trees, looking utterly miserable. “I’m sorry I failed you,” she sobbed. “What did I do wrong?” Hard sobs shook her shoulders and she buried her face in her hands.
Arton woke up with a gasp, confused and shaken. He was sitting up, though he couldn’t remember moving. He looked at Lily. She lay as she’d been all night, curled up on her side. It was amazing that he hadn’t disturbed her. Even so, he was glad she was resting well.
The vision was clearly a warning, but what did he really know? Jillian would fail, that much was clear. Did anything else matter? The couple could still bond naturally. Stront would eventually accept life as it was now.
Arton released a heavy sigh and lay back down. He had to tell them. If they chose to ignore the warning and progress with the transformation, there was nothing else he could do about it. With his course of action solidified, he willed himself back to sleep.
Chapter Five
Something soft yet prickly tickled Lily’s cheek. She brushed it away, sleepily rolling to her back. The sensation returned, only on her lips. She murmured softly, annoyed by the disturbance. She’d been having the sweetest dream. She was stretched out on a beach, watching Arton swim. His naked body stretched and pulled, muscles rippling as he propelled himself through the clear green water.
“Wake up, love. Everyone’s waiting for you.”
She blinked repeatedly, loath to let go of the peaceful dream. He lay beside her, propped on one forearm, while he stroked her face with a lock of her long hair. “What time is it?”
“Five thirty, but there’s a complication. I need to speak with Stront and Jillian before you guys begin.”
Fully awake now, she sat up and stretched out her back. The vague ache between her thighs reminded her that their passion had been interrupted last night. Apparently, they didn’t have time to finish what they’d started either, so her neglected body would have to wait.
“I don’t know about you, but I need a shower,” he announced as he climbed off the bed.
Shower? As in get naked and soap up one’s body? She looked toward the door leading to the adjoining bathroom. It could be entered from the bedroom or the living room. And it had been surprisingly large. The room was long and narrow. There was at least ten feet between the shower stall and either of the doors.
“How is that going to work?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It’s probably best if we shower separately, being that we don’t have time to linger.”
“I agree, but how do we make that happen with a ten-foot leash connecting us?”
His features scrunched together and he shook his head. “I’m not ashamed of my body. Are you?”
“No, but I don’t make a habit of showering in front of men who...”
He stalked toward her as she spoke, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Men who what? You know very well that we would be lovers if we hadn’t been interrupted right now. I’ve already seen your breasts. Your body is lovely. Now, stop being such a prude.” He slapped her on the ass to accent his point.
She laughed and headed for the bathroom. He was right, she was being ridiculous. This was the twenty-first century, for pity’s sake. If she wanted to get naked in front of an alien, no one would care. Certainly not said alien.
She undressed and put her uniform in the recycler. This had become a daily ritual. The Outcasts refused to make underwear for them, so most of the humans printed new uniforms each morning. The shower felt wonderful. The spray was super fine, but it spurted out from all over, wetting her entire body at once.
“I had a second vision last night.” The seriousness in his tone told her to pay attention.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. He’d stripped down to his jeans and sat on the closed commode, looking every bit as grim as he sounded. “Is that why you want to talk to them before we begin?”
He nodded. His gaze dipped to her breasts, then immediately returned to her face. The bottom half of the enclosure was frosted, so he couldn’t see any more than he’d already seen. She’d made sure her back was to him as she got in.
“What did you see?” she prompted when he didn’t offer an explanation on his own.
“I saw them forming the bond, so I suspect the warning won’t matter. Still, I have to try.”
“What else happened in the vision? Why do you consider it a warning?”
“Sorry. Can you turn back around? You’re very distracting like this.”
Pleased by his admission, she turned her back to him and activated the cleansing mist. The fresh-smelling foam was a shampoo, body wash, deodorant and moisturizer all in one.
“I saw Jillian wandering through the trees. She was clearly lost and terrified. She called out to Stront over and over.”
“That’s horrible, but I don’t see what it has to do with the transformation.”
“The leaves were green, not turquoise, so the images were symbolic not literal. She also asked what she’d done wrong and apologized for failing him.”
She quickly rinsed off the mist and smoothed her hair back from her face. He handed her a large towel as she opened the shower door. She wasn’t sure if she should wrap it around her body or contain her dripping hair. Seeing her quandary, he handed her a second towel.
“I’ve been so focused on the formula that I almost forgot about
the guide.”
“What guide?”
“The volunteers back on Earth started calling it the Ghost Guide. I was fascinated by the stories, but my investigation into the accounts found no evidence that it actually existed. I’m pretty sure it’s a myth, a way for humans to explain sensations and experiences they don’t understand.”
“Well, what do the stories claim? What does this Ghost Guide do?”
“She or it, helps them figure out what needs to be done to free their mate’s magic. It always appeared to the female and the process for freeing the magic was different with each male. It all sounded very...surreal.”
“Why is this only coming up now?”
“I’m a scientist,” she objected. “I checked out their stories and offered a rational explanation. Can I help it if they all prefer the myth?”
“So you don’t think it’s an actual entity? There are more incorporeal beings than corporeal beings by far. Humans are just unaware of most of them.”
She hated it when he got all superior, so she just waved away the subject. “If you’re sure they’ll disregard the warning, should we even bring it up. I don’t want to compromise Jillian’s confidence. It might become a self-fulfilling prophesy.”
With a casualness she hadn’t quite mustered, he shed his jeans and stepped into the shower. She got one glimpse at his fabulous ass before his lower body was obscured by the frosted panels. Damn. She couldn’t fight back a guilty smile.
“I’m morally obligated to tell them what I saw. What they do with the information is up to them. I won’t interfere.”
As Arton feared, his warnings had no effect on the love-sick couple. They insisted that the program continue as planned and both Lily and Dr. Foran agreed. Preliminary scans established baseline readings for their vital signs. The injections were administered, and the couple went back to Stront’s cabin to indulge fully in bonding fever.
“Now only time will tell if we got it right,” Dr. Foran sounded wistful, so Lily only nodded.
“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE to know if the transformation is successful?”
Lily pulled her gaze away from the diagram she’d been analyzing and looked at the overlord. He’d just entered the lab undetected. She still didn’t understand how a man that huge could move without a sound. “The first forty-eight hours are the most important, but we never declared a transformation stable for at least a week.”
He looked at the segmented wall display, then back at her. “Why aren’t you supervising them?” Today he was dressed in a khaki uniform just like most everyone else, but it did little to hinder the intensity of his presence.
“Jillian and Stront are in the grip of bonding fever.” She blushed hotly. “We’re monitoring their vital signs. If anything unexpected happens, I’ll beam them to sick bay.”
“‘Beam them to sick bay’?” His forehead crinkled for a moment, and then he laughed. “Star Trek, of course. All this must feel very strange to you.”
“Not as strange as it would have a few months ago. Interacting with the battle born sort of desensitized me.”
His only response was a thoughtful nod. Then he turned to Arton who was sitting on a stool nearby, looking bored and restless. “Torak’s preliminary scans identified a network of caverns not far from this location. There are no life signs, but he’s investigating more thoroughly.”
“Thanks.” Arton started to say something else, but Kage just shook his head and left the lab. “Stubborn fool,” Arton muttered once the overlord had gone.
She looked at Dr. Foran, but he was so engrossed in the holographic display of the couple’s vital signs that he’d missed the entire exchange.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
He finally looked at her, his expression tense. “I’m not sure. Jillian’s pulse rate is borderline dangerous.”
“That’s not too surprising, all things considered.” Jillian was doubtlessly having the most intense sex of her young life, and Lily couldn’t help feeling envious. She’d been well on her way to a similar experience when Arton’s vision derailed the train.
“Still, I’m going to activate surveillance. If sex makes you uncomfortable, avert your gaze.”
Sex didn’t make her uncomfortable. Watching other people have sex made her uncomfortable. Still, she was a scientist, and she’d supervised more transformations than anyone here. Which, in all honesty, wasn’t saying that much.
Dr. Foran activated the surveillance feed in Stront’s cabin. Lily gasped and looked away, but it was too late. The image was seared on her memory. Jillian was sprawled sideways across the bunk, while Stront knelt on the bunk. Her slender legs draped his shoulders and his dark head was buried between her thighs.
“You’re right. She’s just enjoying herself.” Dr. Foran’s voice was filled with laughter.
She whipped her head around and glared at him. “You did that just to embarrass me. Didn’t you?”
“Who me?” He even managed to sound innocent, but his hazel eyes twinkled with mischief. Thankfully, he’d deactivated the surveillance feed, allowing the new couple some semblance of privacy.
She looked at Arton and blushed all over again. He was staring at her with such blatant hunger that it made her nipples tingle. “It will likely be hours before they come up for air,” she told Dr. Foran. “I think I’ll go stretch my legs.”
“Take your time,” Dr. Foran advised. “I’ll contact you if anything changes.”
Arton fell into step beside her as she reached the corridor outside main medical, not that he had much choice. The stupid tether bands were a real nuisance. Waking up in Arton’s arms had been wonderful. It felt intimate and safe, peaceful. But getting ready had been awkward at best. If they were lovers, she would have just joined him in the shower, problem solved. Instead, she’d been stuck in the utility room, pretending not to peek at his amazing body. As with everything, Arton refused to pretend. He sat on the closed commode, watching her silently. She’d kept her back turned as much as possible, but she could still feel his gaze moving all over her naked form.
They were stuck in a strange sort of limbo. She’d accepted that sleeping with him was inevitable. She wanted him too badly to resist him much longer. Still, she wanted answers to a few of her questions before she gave in.
“Let’s go outside,” she suggested. “I don’t know how you guys survive for months on end without the sun on your face. I would not make a good long-distance traveler.”
“You get used to it, eventually. I once went for three and a half years without setting foot on stationary ground.”
Shocked, she looked up at him. “Seriously?”
“We were in the middle of one of the bloodiest wars I every fought so the time actually passed quickly. Still, it felt good to disembark once it was over.”
“How many wars have you fought in?” She knew he was a mercenary. They all were. Still, it bothered her to picture him participating in actual warfare. He seemed too mystical for such brutality.
“Dozens, maybe hundreds.” He shrugged, but his indifference seemed forced. “I stopped counting a long time ago.” His dispassionate mask slammed into place as effective as a no trespassing sign.
She sighed softly. His unwillingness to share was frustrating. Besides, his cryptic claim only confused her. Dozens, maybe hundreds? How could that be? Even if he’d become a mercenary in his teens, which was unlikely, he couldn’t have been fighting wars for more than fifteen or twenty years. She looked at his chiseled profile and unlined skin. There was no way he was in his forties.
He’s not human! Her inner voice reminded. And Rodytes lived much longer than humans. It was amazing that after all the months working with the battle born, and another month here, she could still judge him by human standards.
They took a lift to deck one, meaning to exit the ship through one of the large common areas. The cafeteria/lounges on each of the twelve ships were a popular gathering spot for the females. Heads turned as Lily walked by with Arto
n. His silver-and-black hair made him easy to identify. Everyone knew the overlord’s “pet harbinger”. She’d never had the nerve to ask him, but he likely hated the nickname. She certainly would.
“Lily,” Sara called out, waving wildly. Lily waited while Sara wove her way through the crowded tables and joined them to one side of the wide center aisle. “How is Jillian? Please tell me they both survived the procedure.”
“The ‘procedure’ is simply a series of injections. We took baseline readings of their vital signs, gave them the injections and sent them to Stront’s cabin to do what nature has been urging them to do.”
Sara’s dark eyes narrowed and she tilted her head. “Then how do they transform into whatever they’re supposed to become?” Arton tried to disguise his laugh as a cough, but Sara wasn’t fooled. She turned on him, hands on hips, one of her favorite poses. “Don’t you laugh at me. I might not understand how it works, but at least I haven’t agreed to anything.” She shook her head, thick dark hair swishing around her shoulders. “I can’t believe how many of these fools want to go next, and they haven’t even heard if Jillian lived or died.”
“She was very much alive the last time we checked in on her.” Lily glanced at Arton and they shared a knowing smile.
“Good, then answer my question. If it’s not a surgical procedure, how are they transformed?”
There was plenty of information in the data base regarding transformation, but Lily had to admit that much of it was filled with medical terminology. She was a geneticist and she still struggled to understand parts of it. She was still trying to simplify the concepts in her mind when Arton moved closer to Sara.
“When a Rodyte male claims his mate he anchors what is known as a soul bond. It’s a connection between their minds that allows them to share thoughts and emotions. This process also triggers changes in his body and hers.”
Other women began to gather around, clearly interested in his explanation. Or were they just curious about him? Arton the Heretic was notorious.
Heretic Page 8
