by Kate Douglas
“But the risk ... what if you’re found out?”
She leaned close and kissed him, but she pulled away before he could deepen it. Probably a good idea. It was so easy to get off track with Zianne.
“I am very careful, and my abilities appear to be growing the longer I am connected to you. Because I had such a powerful link to you, my people chose me as their emissary, as the one to help you create the programs that would aid in our escape. You and I are working on them now, but much will depend on your world’s technology growing more sophisticated, and that is something our software is already speeding up. I know, from the future I’ve seen, that you will succeed. It’s going to take many years.” She laughed. “It’s also going to take much of your currency, but money will never again be a worry for you.”
Mac’s mind spun on overload; Zianne’s images spilled into his head, illustrating the unbelievable story she’d spun. How she found the information about the dean and when she’d added to Mac’s scribbled notes. Impossible, and yet he had to believe her. With the visual proof burning itself into his mind, with the unexplainably complex work they’d completed over the past weeks and the answers to questions he hadn’t known to ask suddenly falling into place, it was all beginning to make sense.
And Zianne was right. Money was not an issue. The interest in their work was already coming with promises of more money than he’d ever dreamed. None of their ideas were close to marketable at this point, but Mac’s reputation as a talented and innovative software developer was growing.
“How far in the future are we talking, Zianne? When will this rescue take place?”
“Almost twenty of your years from now.”
“Twenty years! Shit, Zianne. I’m twenty-six now. I’ll be in my forties by then. Isn’t there any way to make it happen sooner?”
She shook her head and looked at him as if she were trying to explain things to a child. “It’s difficult to explain. When I leave you, I am there, in that time. It’s a new century in your world. There will be many changes between now and then, but we did not arrive in your orbit until that new century had begun. In 2012, to be exact. And it will take that long for your world’s technology to mature to the point where we can expect a rescue to succeed.”
She leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around her slim body. She felt warm and alive, and so damned real. How could he think of her as something fabricated out of fantasy?
“I am real, Mac. I’m flesh and blood. I have a mind and a conscience. I have felt so much guilt over my lies to you, the things I didn’t think I could tell you, but I was afraid you would send me away, that you’d just think I was a freak. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
How could he not forgive her? Not if he believed her amazing story. Mac realized there wasn’t a shred of doubt—not after what she’d shared—but he still needed answers. “Why didn’t I question your existence? I’m not stupid, but you appeared in my shower, wrapped those gorgeous lips of yours around my cock, and I just accepted you. Were you controlling my mind? That bothers me. What did you do?”
She shook her head against his chest and he held her closer. “I’m not strong enough to completely control your mind. I used your desire not to know the truth about me. You doubted my existence from the beginning, but you didn’t really want to know the details. I used that desire and strengthened it with just the slightest push. You wondered, but your need not to know something you couldn’t accept was stronger than your desire for the truth.”
He thought about that a moment. She was right. He’d been terrified he might learn something about her he couldn’t deal with. “You nailed it. I hope you’re happy.”
When she frowned, he kissed her nose. “I’m teasing you. You’re right. I didn’t want to learn anything that would make you leave me. You’re not going to leave, are you?” He leaned away and forced her to meet his gaze. “Does this mean I’ve got you for the next twenty years?”
She turned and straddled his hips. “I’m not going anywhere. Your sun is a great source of power, and the Gar are happy to stay in one place for a while. I’ve been able to slip in and out of the ship without too much risk. They actually have no idea how many of us there are, which makes it easy to confuse them with our numbers.”
“But you’re here without your soul. What if they leave while you’re with me?”
“If I couldn’t return in time, I would die.” She sighed and kissed him. “Don’t worry. My people can contact me. The signal is faint, but I would have time to return to the ship. There’s no reason to think they’ll be leaving. The main thing is to get the programs ready and the antennae built in time.”
“What antennae?”
She grinned at him. “The antennae you’re going to use to call my people here. We’ll need a small group of men and women with very powerful minds—minds capable of broadcasting physical images via your antennae that are explicit enough to give form and substance to the other Nyrians aboard the Gar’s ship.”
“How come you don’t need an antenna to hear me?”
“Because you, MacArthur Dugan, are one in a billion. Your wonderful mind reached me in space, many light-years beyond the far side of the sun. You called me. Pulled me to this place and this time, and when I told my people about you, they were able to, well, shall I say, persuade the Gar to come this way.”
“I love you, Zianne. Whatever you need, I’ll do my best. If you’re beside me, I don’t think there’s anything that can stop us.”
“Love is an emotion Nyrians feel. I can honestly say I love you, too, Mac.”
He looked at her, at the fantasy woman he’d created, and wanted more. “Show me who you really are, Zianne. I want to see your natural form. Will you show me?”
She stared at him from eyes gone wide, pools of amethyst that tugged at his heart. But then she stepped back, out of his embrace, and shimmered into a million sparkling lights. As Mac watched, the lights spun in a mesmerizing circle, drawing together into a single bolt of sparkling energy.
She pressed against him and covered him in light. He felt a sharp tingle—not really pain, but a feeling akin to static electricity that fired his nerve endings and had his hair standing on end.
Then she slipped inside, her shimmering energy melding with his cells, becoming, for that moment in time, a part of him. There was no way to describe it, no way to understand feelings so entirely alien, yet so unbelievably seductive, a connection unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
A few seconds later, Zianne stood in front of him as if she’d never changed. As if she’d not just rocked his world with more possibilities than Mac ever could have dreamed.
She kissed him. Her lips were soft and warm and oh so human. As they kissed, Mac’s head filled with alien images of such amazing clarity, of such fascinating form and shape, that he felt as if he traveled the stars within Zianne’s mind.
His body still shivered from their melding. His heart thundered in his chest as he pulled her even closer.
Twenty years. He could do this. Twenty years working beside Zianne with her people’s freedom as their goal. Twenty years of heaven, and then, hopefully, the rest of his life with Zianne—his fantasy come to life.
TAKEN BETWEEN
CRYSTAL JORDAN
1
It was time to put up or shut up.
A spurt of adrenaline flooded Kira’s veins, and she felt a feral smile pull at her lips. Her fangs pricked at her flesh, and she ran her tongue down one long canine to the wicked point.
The fox-shifter within her easily caught the scent of the man she wanted. He was a Between, like her. A shape-shifter. Max Delacourt. The rich masculine scent of human male edged with the animalistic scent of a red wolf. It was a smell she knew as well as her own, one she’d craved for far too long. And she would have him. Soon. Whether he knew it or not.
She was through waiting. Tonight she would have him.
A low moan sounded through the door she stood guard beside, and she smoothed
her expression into a professional mask. If anyone knew how to wear a professional mask, it was her—she’d learned from her butler father. No one could poker-face like a butler born and bred in England.
Kira’s replacement turned a corner in the hallway to walk toward the royal suite. The Between king and his fiancée had been closeted inside for the seven hours since Rhiannon had returned to the palace. Kira had to work to smother a smile. King Elan hadn’t been able to hide his impatience to have Rhiannon back in the island nation of San Amaro. He’d barely managed to slam the door in his Guards’ faces before the carnal sounds of mating had begun filtering into the hall.
In many ways, it was a relief to have Rhiannon here instead of running her health club in Oregon. The stubborn woman had insisted that she didn’t need to be followed around by security guards if she wasn’t royalty yet, so Kira had had to arrange for more covert means to assure the future queen’s safety. As second in command of the King’s Guard, Kira had been pulling double duty for months taking care of her normal job assignment, plus handling her unspoken position as the head of the future Queen’s Guard.
With all the details of her business tied up and the wedding the next day, Rhiannon was on San Amaro to stay. Finally. The only person happier about that than Elan was Kira. No more juggling jobs for her. No more pretending. She was openly in charge of Rhiannon’s security detail, which would officially become the Queen’s Guard after the wedding ceremony.
“Everything okay?” Her replacement for the next guard rotation stopped in front of her, his face serious.
They both froze when a pleasured female scream echoed out of the king’s room. Using every one of the skills she’d learned at her father’s knee, Kira cleared her throat. “Yes. Everything’s going just fine.”
“So it seems,” the man quipped, a faint grin on his face.
Kira clapped him on the shoulder as she headed down the hallway. “Enjoy your evening. Or something.”
He snorted, and she glanced back to see him settling into place beside the door. Good.
Pushing open a side door, she stepped out into the cool night. The sea breeze off the Pacific carried the hints of salt and open water, mixing with the deeper scents of garden blooms and the people on the island. Even as the familiar environment encouraged her to relax, she did an automatic sweep of the area to make sure that the palace was as secure as it should be. They’d had several serious threats against the king’s life recently—one in particular that had the entire Guard on alert—and it paid to be cautious. More than that, old habits died hard, and she’d been a cop for the LAPD before she’d joined Elan’s Guard when he’d become king.
It had been a crazy time for the Between. The former king had outed their kind to the human population just before he died, which left Elan scrambling to protect the rights of Between all over the world. His family had owned San Amaro, an island off the coast of Southern California, and the United States annexed the land as a sovereign nation for the half-animal shifters.
Kira thought Elan had done a better job for their race than his father, Phillip, ever had. Good riddance to the old bastard.
The hot smell of Max swirled through the air, scattering her thoughts. She automatically moved in that direction. It was like a Lorelei, that scent. Calling to her, tempting her, taunting her. Her heartbeat quickened, blood throbbing in her veins as her body readied itself for what she had in mind. Yes. All she needed now was Max.
“Damn it, Adam. Why can’t you just—” The sentence ended in a frustrated growl as she rounded a corner of the building. Pulling to a stop, she nodded to the two men standing there. Barrett Granger and Adam Lee.
“What’s up, Doc?” Adam was the Between doctor on San Amaro. He was probably the most beautiful man she’d ever seen ... tall and muscular, but with darkly exotic Asian features. Barrett was about as opposite in looks as possible. He was massive, with pale peridot eyes and wheat blond hair. Neither of them could come anywhere near the attractiveness of Max, but objectively, they were both better looking.
The anger and sexual tension between the two men was a palpable thing, but there was no backpedaling now, and since both men were Between, they’d have sensed her approach a mile off.
“Nothing’s up, Kira. Thank you for asking.” The doctor’s voice was as mellow as always, but a muscle twitched in his cheek.
Barrett gave her a crisp nod. He’d be taking over as second in command of the King’s Guard, and she knew he was solid, but this was an interesting twist. His jaw clenched as he met her gaze. “Seaton.”
“Granger.” Her feet crunched on the gravel path as she made to skirt around them. A lover’s quarrel wasn’t something she wanted to involve herself with. She had other plans for the evening.
Max’s laughter jerked her around, and she watched him step through an open door, drawing Elan’s pretty secretary Genesee outside with him. He was flirting, as usual.
A noise that was pure jealousy rent the air, and it wasn’t just Kira who made it. She glanced at the men beside her and saw Adam’s gaze locked on Genesee while Barrett reacted to Adam’s response.
There was a mess even more tangled than hers. She’d thought she’d had it bad wanting her boss, but at least there wasn’t a triangle of pain in her life. And Max wasn’t her boss anymore, was he? Not as of Rhiannon’s return. He was the head of the King’s Guard and she was in charge of the Queen’s Guard. That feral smile twisted Kira’s lips again. Now all she had to do was get rid of Genesee and everything would be perfect.
Watching Max’s long, lean body move as he prowled the pathway around the palace did nothing to cool her off. She couldn’t look away, her body heating with every step he took toward her. His dark hair ruffled in the breeze, his amber eyes glinting in the light cast from lampposts. His white teeth flashed when he smiled, and her heart rate bumped up a notch. Her nipples tightened and she felt her skin sensitize.
She didn’t bother glancing away from Max when she spoke. “Adam, why don’t you make sure Genesee gets home safely?”
“Good idea,” he replied, overriding the woman’s weak protestations.
“I’ll walk with you.” Barrett shot Kira a nasty glare, which she ignored. “I’m headed that direction anyway.”
His expression dared them to contradict him. No one did. And no one pointed out that his quarters were in the opposite direction of Genesee’s house. The trio moved away in frigid silence.
That left Kira alone with Max, just as she’d intended.
He arched his eyebrows, a flirtatious grin playing over his full lips. “Well, now that you have me all to yourself, what will you do with me?”
Anything she wanted.
The fox within her writhed with the need to mate, to fuck, to burn off the craving that she’d had to keep in check for so many years. But the fetters were off now. Her father would be horrified at her desire to fraternize with her betters, but she pushed the thought away. Max being the king’s brother wouldn’t change tonight. She’d worry about that later.
She startled when a leonine roar shattered the quiet night, her hand going reflexively to the weapon holstered at the small of her back. Max crossed his arms, his smile widening with mockery. “Jumpy, aren’t we? Sounds like the lion king is having a nice reunion.”
As if she cared. She shrugged and fought the urge to drag him to the ground. “Your brother always enjoys himself with Rhiannon. Maybe that’s why he’s marrying her.”
His grin fell away and his gaze sharpened, zeroing in on her face. “Are you okay with all this?”
She blinked, her mind unable to process the rapid change. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Then realization hit. Oh. Right. Max thought she had a jones for Elan, and she hadn’t corrected that misconception for him over the years. She might even have done a few things to encourage it. The more incentive he had had to keep his distance, the safer it had been for her.
Despite being the ranking officer in the King’s Guard, Max was still a
freaking prince, and Kira’s father had been his father’s butler. She might have played with Max and Elan as a child, but her father and theirs had made it very clear she would never be the equal of a Delacourt. She was a servant’s kid, and her father had expected her to be a servant as well. He’d been pissed as hell that she’d gone off to be a cop. Then again, she’d become a public servant and then returned to San Amaro to serve the king. She might do it with a gun instead of a serving tray, but a servant was a servant. Too bad her father hadn’t lived to see his wish come true.
Max had ditched all the trappings of royalty and joined the Marines when he turned eighteen, but when he’d come back to command the Guard after his brother’s coronation, he’d still had to deal with being a prince. Which had made him not only royalty, but her superior officer.
Off-limits on every possible level.
Until today.
An impatient growl spilled from his throat. “Damn it, Kira. You have to talk to someone about this, and who else do you have? Genesee is Elan’s assistant and Rhiannon is his fiancée. Who does that leave?”
“Barrett? Or maybe Adam?”
Max’s growl turned into a sound of feral jealousy, and Kira fought a grin. She liked him possessive—far more than she should. He jerked a thumb at his chest. “You’ll talk to me.”
“You’re not my boss anymore, Max.” She folded her arms over her chest, and his gaze dropped to her breasts. Excellent. “I don’t have to follow your orders.”
His eyes narrowed as they refocused on her face. “I have never held that over you, and you know it.”
