The Minister's Manipulation: (An Alpha Alien Romance Novel)

by Liza Probz

  She groaned as his tongue pressed softly against her lips, lapping at her sensually and beckoning her to open up for him. His fingers tightened on her back and she turned her face a little, opening her mouth and brushing her tongue by his as he moaned deeply in his chest.

  When he broke the kiss, she wanted to whimper with desperation, but she forced herself to press her fingers to his chest as she licked at her lips.

  His eyes ignited with lust as he followed her tongue, and he bent back in, ready to claim her in another passionate kiss.

  "No." She pushed against his thick chest. "This isn't the time or place, remember? We need to locate my crew and your ship."

  His hand covered hers, and Brook realized that his skin had shifted to light purple.

  "What's with the color change?" she asked suddenly. "You've gone from green to yellow to red and now purple."

  His expression turned serious. "Zantharians skin color's shift with their moods. Yellow is anger. Red is fear. And purple is..."

  Purple is passion. How interesting...

  "Come on." She turned and let out a shallow breath, trying to get her heart to stop beating so damn hard in her chest. "We need to search the ship again, top to bottom, and see if we can locate our missing crewmembers."

  Ontarii fell into step behind her, not uttering a word.

  She led them off the bridge and back into the corridor where they'd met just over an hour before.

  We need to find the crew soon, and not just to solve the mystery of their disappearance.

  She wasn't sure what would happen if she spent too much more time in the major's company alone, but some huge part of her wanted to find out.

  The man was dangerous.

  Chapter 11

  Major Ontarii followed the human female as she opened up one of the science compartments accessed from the corridor outside the bridge. He couldn't believe that he'd kissed her.

  Even more, he couldn't believe how much he'd liked it. The thought of kissing her again consumed his thoughts and he had to beat back his desire to throw caution to the wind and take her in the next available space that gave them privacy.

  Although his career hadn't afforded him much time for relationships, he'd been involved with several Zantharian females in his time. That none had ever excited him like the human female did, was unsettling.

  Physically, she was nothing like a Zantharian female. She was at least a head shorter, and much curvier. Her hair was silky and smelled of fruit. Her skin was a pure alabaster, as clear as cream. And her eyes. Her beautiful golden eyes...

  He tried to pull his concentration back to the task at hand, but being so close to Captain Brooklyn made paying attention to anything besides her very difficult.

  The first science station yielded nothing. As did the second. They made for the crew quarters and searched every bunk. There was no sign of the missing crew.

  Captain Brooklyn opened the door that led to quarters larger than the others belonging to the crew. He surmised that they must have belonged to the captain herself.

  Scanning the room, he looked for any clues into her personality. Her quarters were sparse, featuring a cot much like those possessed by the other crewmembers and a desk that took up one wall. There was a device in one corner for which he couldn't determine the function.

  "What is this?" he asked, approaching the device. It had a front stand and a short belt arranged near the floor.

  "It's called a treadmill," she said distractedly, bending down to check under her cot. "It's used for running."

  Ontarii nodded. It was vital to stay in shape while working on a ship, and one as small as hers had limited opportunities for space.

  He wandered over to a short dresser and inspected the content on its surface. One brush. One hair clip. One small piece of jewelry that could go around the neck. So far her possessions had failed to clue him into her character.

  Ontarii slid open the top drawer and reached inside, latching onto a piece of soft fabric and pulling it out. He unrolled it, discovering that it was a small piece of underclothing that looked to go over her lower region. It was black satin, and touching it made his mouth water. He had started to lift it to his face as she screamed at him.

  "Give me that!" she yelled, pulling the material from his hands and stuffing it back into the drawer, which she slammed shut. "What are you doing?"

  "Just inspecting the quarters," he said, shrugging.

  "Inspecting my underwear drawer? You think there are enemy agents hiding in my panties?"

  "It never hurts to check." He was unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face.

  "There's nobody here," she said, heading for the door. "Let's check the infirmary."

  There was nobody there, either. Nor in the crew's mess. He followed Captain Brooklyn as she headed into the cargo bay. "I don't know how we could have missed someone in here earlier, but we might as well check again to be thorough."

  Ontarii nodded and the pair began to examine storage containers one by one. Once again, their search turned up nothing.

  "This is ridiculous," the human said, her face displaying exasperation. "How could my entire crew just disappear?"

  "And my guards," Ontarii said. "It doesn't add up." He ran a hand through the tendrils on his head which had become agitated due to his mood.

  "Let's think about this logically. There are only a few possibilities that could have happened." Ontarii began counting off options on his fingers. "Your crew could have been moved to the flagship for some reason, but that doesn't explain the ship's absence."

  He extended a second finger. "The Hareema have replaced your entire crew, and are now shifted into inanimate object form and are hiding in plain sight. However, we know that not all of your people were Hareema from the beginning, this means we should encounter some of your crew, or their remains."

  "And what about your subordinates?" The human crossed her arms over her stomach as if almost embracing herself. A pang went through him at the thought, and the urge to comfort the woman rose uncomfortably inside him.

  "They're gone too, remember?" She continued her thought. "Is it possible your crew could have herded mine onto your ship?"

  Ontarii frowned. It was possible, but unlikely. His crew should have waited there for his return, or secured the ship and awaited orders from the flagship. Still, if he had returned, or a Hareema did with his appearance, they would have followed any order he gave them.

  "We can't boil this down to a few logical choices," the captain said, her tone low. "We just don't have enough information. The Hareema we know is loose on the ship is a wildcard."

  Ontarii liked to see matters in terms of black and white. He was disturbed by all the gray this mission contained, and quite irritating that the human was the one to point it out. He could barely think, standing so close to her, but apparently he didn't affect her in the same way.

  He refocused himself, closing his eyes. The facts of the case are these: According to the ship's log, no external hatches have been opened save the one that led to his ship. The escape pod is still attached to the ship. And after searching the ship twice, there is still no sign of the crew or the Hareema agents.

  What was to be their next move?

  For the first time in his decorated military career, he had no idea.

  "We should head back to the bridge. Perhaps re-evaluate our course. I don't think we should land on your planet with our current situation." She touched his arm.

  Ontarii opened his eyes and nodded, willing to follow her suggestion since he had nothing to offer at the moment. He'd always been in command and had grown used to everyone following his orders. Even his superiors treated him with a level of respect that was unusual in the service. Yet this little human female had first refused to follow his orders and was now dictating their course of action. It was a tough pill to swallow.

  Captain Brooklyn looked over her shoulder at him as she led the way back to the bridge. "You know, I don't think we should
discount the possibility that the ship's log has been tampered with."

  They were walking through the crew's mess hall. Ontarii placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to pause.

  "What is it?" she asked, her face confused.

  "We should check the compartments here as well," he said, indicating the many cupboards that stored her crew's nourishment. "Some of these cabinets are large enough to hide a human."

  The captain frowned but squatted down next to one of the larger compartments and opened it. Inside were packets that must have contained the human's rations. Freeze-dried, from the looks of things. Yuck.

  Ontarii walked to the opposite end of the mess and opened a cabinet. Inside he found several containers of liquid. Water, mostly. He moved down to the next. This one held several small containers of thin wafers. Some sort of nutritional supplements.

  All of a sudden, his companion let out a gasp. Ontarii hurried to her side just in time to see a shape tumble out of the compartment nearest her.

  It was the one she'd called Mike. The one who'd been terrified of being electrocuted. The only other member of the crew that had been confirmed as human.

  His face was locked in a permanent scream, his eyes wide and bulging. There was a ring of dark bruises around his neck. Mike had been strangled to death, then stuffed in the cupboard.

  "Oh my God," she screamed and moved back quickly, falling on her rear and scooting away from the corpse. Her small hands shook as she held them up to her beautiful face and let out another cry.

  Ontarii moved in quickly, putting his hands under her shoulders and pulling her to her feet. Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly out of instinct.

  "They killed Mike," she whispered, her tight voice indicating the level of her shock. "They killed him."

  "Shhh..." Ontarii whispered, stroking her hair softly. "I know."

  "You were right all this time." Her voice broke. "These jelly things are dangerous. I didn't listen, and now two of my crewmembers are dead. This is all my fucking fault."

  "It's not your fault. You've done the best you can, so don't blame yourself. These creatures are new to you, Brook."

  "They're my crew." She moved back as a trail of tears rolled down her face. "I'm responsible for them."

  "Don't," he said, his heart breaking for her. He knew exactly how she felt. "You have to be strong, for the rest of your crew."

  Captain Brooklyn sniffled, then wiped her face. She sucked in a deep breath and nodded, putting on a brave face which would likely cripple him.

  "You're right." She straightened her shoulders and pulled away from him. “I can do this.”

  He started to reach for her again, but decided against it. The fact that he missed her touch already was something he would have to work through later.

  Chapter 12

  Brook breathed deeply, trying to get a hold on her emotions. Two of my people are dead, or two that I know about. My whole crew could be murdered and their bodies hidden around the ship.

  Not all of my crew. Some hadn't been human to begin with.

  Brook wondered if Hareema agents had been with them from the start of their journey. From Earth. It seemed the only possible solution, as there had been no interactions with others while heading toward Zanthar, at least none that she knew about.

  If the Hareema agent on board could tamper with the ship's log, they could have found time while she was resting to dock with an enemy ship and take on more passengers.

  That still meant there had to have been at least one Hareema agent that had boarded on Earth. Which meant Earth had already been infiltrated by shape-changing aliens. No wonder the Zantharians were so distrustful.

  Brook opened her mouth to share her thoughts when an alarm sounded off loudly.

  "What is that?" Major Ontarii moved up beside her, his eyes scanning the compartment.

  "It's the signal for the airlock. Someone's opening it."

  "To the bridge, then, to find out who's at the controls."

  "No," she said, shaking her head. "We should get to the airlock. It could be a member of my crew getting pushed out into space by enemy agents. We've got to try and rescue them if it is."

  Ontarii nodded then started running back in the direction of the crew quarters. In a moment they were in the corridor, watching as the warning lights on the airlock door blinked red.

  Brook slammed into the door and hit the button to open the shade of the small window installed there. The window shade lifted, giving her a view of the airlock.

  "We're too late," she said, her voice filled with sadness. "I'm sorry."

  Ontarii stepped up behind her and bent down to peer out the window. His breath caught in his chest when he realized what was on the other side.

  The two Zantharian soldiers were floating in open space. Their faces were slack, their limbs limp as death had already claimed them.

  Brook and Ontarii watched them until the outer airlock door shut and the warning lights and alarm stopped. Brook hit the button to close the window shade and turned to the major.

  His face was bleak, his expression one of failure.

  "I'm sorry," she said again, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  "Hareema bastards!" he yelled, his skin flushing yellow. He slammed a massive fist into the ship's metal wall, causing the craft to shake around them.

  Brook flinched at the intensity of his outburst, but understood exactly where he was coming from.

  Suddenly there was a noise in the crew's mess. The sound of metal against metal.

  Ontarii turned and flew back down the corridor the way they'd come.

  "Wait!" Brook ran to catch up, but the major made it out of the corridor and around the corner before she could, leaving him out of her line of sight.

  She rushed into the crew's mess only to find pots and metal containers strewn everywhere. There was no sign of Mike's body nor the major. She rushed down the corridor towards the bridge and made it just in time to see the bridge door close.

  "Fuck," she muttered, then ran to the bridge door and paused.

  Ontarii had only been out of her sight for less than a minute. Was that enough time for him to be waylaid by the Hareema and replaced? She knew it didn't take long.

  "No. Dammit." She pulled out the laser pistol that was strapped to her waist and brought it to life.

  The major was on the other side of this door, on the bridge, the place from which someone or something had just opened the airlock door and spaced the bodies of the two Zantharians.

  He could be replaced by a Hareema agent, or one could have been snatched by one in the mess. That made more sense. The agent had created a diversion to lure them into the mess, had grabbed Ontarii because he'd made it first, and pulled him into the crew corridor. Then the one on the bridge had opened the door and closed it again, making it seem like Ontarii was now on the bridge.

  And she was about to walk into a trap. Wasn't she?

  No more time to debate with yourself. It’s time for decisive action, Captain.

  With a deep breath, Brook pushed the button that opened the door to the bridge.

  Ontarii, or what looked like Ontarii, was bent over the control panel, pushing buttons with a look of frustration on his face.

  “Step away from the controls.” Brook filled her voice with as much backbone as she could muster. She pointed the laser pistol at the major and prayed he’d obey her orders willingly.

  She wasn’t sure if she could take him in a fight. Even with the laser pistol.

  Ontarii didn’t bother to look up. “According to the log, someone activated the airlock from the bridge. That means the Hareema agent could still be in here, right now.”

  “Step away from the controls,” she repeated through gritted teeth.

  “Don’t be foolish.” He tapped the console rapidly. “I’m attempting to modify your scanners to see if they can isolate organic matter from inorganic. I’m not sure if the scans can pick up Hareema DNA, so—”

 
“Step away from the controls!” she screamed loudly.

  The time for patience was over. Who knew what that thing could be doing to her ship from the main console? If it was a thing, and not the major.

  Ontarii finally looked up. His eyes widened when he realized she had him at laser-point.

  “What are you doing?” His voice was deadpan.

  “If you don’t step away from those controls in the next five seconds, we’re going to find out if a Zantharian can be killed by an Earth laser beam.”

  Ontarii moved slowly away from the console, his face blank, but his skin a bright yellow that bordered on neon. “Why are you doing this?”

  “We can’t be out of each other’s sight, remember?” She moved toward the console and debated glancing down to see what he’d been doing. It might give her a clue to whether he was who he said he was, but the risk was too great. Given an opportunity, he could clobber her in an instant.

  The major frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Brook sighed. “You ran down the corridor from the airlock and around the corner before I could catch up with you. I can’t even be certain you made it to the bridge.”

  His midnight eyes narrowed. “You think I’m Hareema.”

  She nodded. “I can’t take the risk that you aren’t. I have to behave as if you’ve already been replaced.”

  Too many of my crew are dead, she wanted to add. Dead or missing. I can’t risk letting my guard down or I’ll end up just like them.

  The thought that she couldn’t trust him filled her with a sadness that surprised her. The handsome alien had saved her life in the engine room. He’d supported her when she’d discovered Mike’s body. He was the only person she thought she could trust, now that she knew at least one member of the Earhart crew was a Hareema agent.

  For the first time in her life, Captain Brooklyn had been able to share the burden of the command. A spaceship captain’s word was law in the abyss of space, and orders had to be followed. The responsibility of running a crew during dangerous missions weighed heavy on the captain of the ship. For a moment she’d thought she might have someone with whom to share commonality and experience.