Marine's Queen, The
Page 7
“I’m worried about Roz and Grace,” Callie began.
“Has Roz done something?” Joe snapped.
“No!” Callie wondered at his unusually quick anger. “Why do you think that?”
Joe relaxed a bit. “He spends a lot of time with her and the child.”
“That’s what worries me. I think the two of them are becoming very attached to Roz. You’ve already told me that if we leave you can’t come with us.”
“It would be a death sentence for us and probably for anyone with us.”
“They’re falling in love with Roz if they haven’t already. It will break their hearts to leave him.”
“Do people die of broken hearts, Lady Callie?”
“No, I guess not.” Callie wondered what convoluted path his thoughts were traveling.
“Unless Roz has in some way insulted or injured the lady, I see no reason to interfere.”
“But….”
“We’ve given you haven and asked nothing of you, Lady Callie.” Joe rose to his feet, the action effortless and graceful. “If one of my men find a few stolen moments of happiness or feels a bit of human kindness, would you deny him even that?”
Callie shook her head, surprised at the passion and anger in Joe’s voice. “I’m sorry. I guess I sounded selfish and cruel.”
Joe sighed and his shoulders slumped. “You’ve all been cruel. None of us have been around real people before. We’ve met many other soldiers, but they never liked being with us. Now we bring you here and you cook us fine meals and let us see your children. You treat us like we’re normal.”
“And that’s cruel?”
“Vin and Tar are seeing if we can use parts from your ship to repair ours. If we can, you’ll be able to leave.”
“By the Father.” Hope surged in Callie’s chest. She might be able to return to her people.
“You’ll go, and we’ll remain. Let Roz have his moment of being loved and needed for something other than as a killing machine. You’ll return to your lives among your kind, and Roz will have only his memories. Better for him to have never met Grace and Glory.”
“What about you, Joe? Would it be better for you if you’d never met us?” Callie drifted to him, placing her hand on his hard chest. “Better for you if you’d never met me?”
Joe’s dark blue eyes filled with heat. His gaze dropped to her lips, but he didn’t move.
Callie did. She stretched up on her toes and kissed his slightly parted lips.
Joe didn’t react either by returning the kiss or pulling away.
She slid her hands up his arms and around his neck. Making sure her chest pressed against his, Callie kissed him again.
A muffled curse answered her kiss, but then he joined her. His arms wrapped her close, and his lips twisted slightly on hers. She opened her mouth, and he accepted the invitation. His tongue stroked the roof of her mouth and across her tongue. She stroked back, and a deep moan vibrated his chest against hers.
Callie followed him when he started to pull back. He broke contact with her lips, but he kissed the sensitive corner of her mouth. Then her jawbone. Then the soft skin beneath her ear. Then a series of kisses down the side of her neck. His warm lips traced a delicate path along her collarbone.
She leaned back to give him access to the spot at the base of her neck. He lingered there.
Her nipples rubbed against the borrowed camouflage shirt she wore, so she wanted to remove it. She needed his lips to soothe the sensitive spot where no man had ever touched her before. Man!
Callie froze. What had she been thinking? Her earlier perceptions of the marines rose to haunt her. Lab creations. At the very least, he was a man she would leave behind as soon as an opportunity arose.
Joe’s arms loosened and then dropped away. He looked a bit dazed and certainly confused.
Guilt flooded Callie. She’d led him on, driven by her lust and loneliness. She was cruel, just as he’d accused her. And selfish. She knew herself as a woman plain in appearance with a figure too full and large for fashion. It flattered her to have a handsome man like Joe lusting for her. For her and not her throne or her special gifts.
“I don’t know why you let me kiss you, Lady Callie.” Joe backed away. “Are you playing at some game for your own amusement? You may question my origins and my humanity, but I’m a man. I have a man’s desires and a man’s needs. Don’t offer to satisfy them unless you mean it.”
He stalked back to camp. Callie rubbed her arms against a chill caused by more than the setting of the sun. She didn’t fear Joe or his needs. She feared her own carnal urges. It wasn’t just his body or pretty face that drew her toward him. Was it gratitude? No.
In her duty as ruler of Giroux, she’d met many men in leadership positions. Some were labeled heroes, noble, honorable, or great statesmen for their people. For the first time in her thirty-three years, Callie felt she really understood the true meaning of nobility and honor. They were titles to be earned.
Honor was walking away from a woman who you believed would regret her actions if you took what she offered. Nobility was sharing the last drop of your water with a stranger in the desert.
Callie took a deep breath and let it out slow. She was a queen. It was time she started to act like one.
Chapter Six
“Any chance for repairs?”
Vin shook his head. “Sorry, sir. Their fuel enhancer cells were damaged in the crash.”
“Fash take it!” Joe seldom cursed, but the frustration he’d been living with had him short-tempered. And not a damned thing he could do about it. “Any problems?”
“No. Yalo travels well. She’s very strong for a woman.”
Joe stared at his second-in-command. “Not you too.”
Vin met his gaze, but his face darkened. “Sir?”
“Someone will eventually come looking for those women, and then they’ll leave. Isn’t Yalo the one who told them all we weren’t men on that first day?”
Vin’s lips curved into a small smile, an expression Joe had never seen on his face. “Sir, I think she knows I’m a man by now.”
“Damn it, Vin. She’s not a hired woman.”
Vin’s expression darkened. “I know that, Joe.”
Callie’s approach prevented Joe from reprimanding Vin further. What was happening to his men? First Roz, now Vin and damn if Kam hadn’t volunteered to hold the infant the previous evening during dinner. And just where had Mak disappeared to with Acacia?
“Well?” Callie asked, in that commanding tone she did so well.
Joe thought of it as her ‘queen’ voice. “We can’t use your ship to repair ours.”
“We’re stuck here.” Callie’s tone gave nothing about her feelings away.
“I’m sorry.” Joe tried to read her expression. “Your beacon may still bring help.”
“More likely, pirates,” Vin muttered.
Joe gave him a curt signal of dismissal. Vin turned sharply and left them alone.
Callie inhaled deeply, held it, and then let her breath out in a long slow exhalation that pulled Joe’s gaze to her chest. A single tear slid down her cheek. “I’ve let down the people of Giroux. People who look to me for leadership and their livelihoods.”
Not sure why he did it, Joe caught the sparkling droplet on his fingertip. A bolt of powerful energy shot through him. He staggered away from Callie, confused and stunned by the lightning pulsing along his nervous system.
“Joe?” Callie reached a hand out toward him.
His penis rose with a painful, urgent arousal as every muscle in his body tensed. Joe lifted a trembling hand to ward her off.
“Joe?” Callie repeated, but with a stern tone.
His chaotic thoughts settled a little. “What the fash happened?”
Callie smiled, a mixture of amusement and sadness that caused a funny twinge in Joe’s chest. “You’re just discovered the reason we crashed here.”
* * * *
Joe’s momentary lapse ended quickly. He hid h
is surprise behind the stoic mask he usually wore.
“Sit with me, Joe.” Callie walked over to the half-finished wall of the newest barracks. It was too high for her to sit upon, especially when the recent shedding of a tear had left her legs weak.
She turned, planning to at least lean against the stones, but then Joe’s hands closed on each side of her waist. She yipped in surprise as he lifted her to the top of the wall. He hopped up easily beside her. Callie allowed herself a moment to admire his physical prowess.
Joe didn’t say anything, looking at her with a patient stillness that always made her feel a bit guilty.
Where to begin? How much did Joe know about the world outside his ordered military life? “Giroux, my home world, is a tiny insignificant planet with few people and limited natural resources. We have small amounts of valuable ore, but no mines full of precious gemstones.”
Callie looked away from Joe for a moment. She’s always accepted her rare gift as just that, but explaining it to someone who knew nothing of it made her wonder if it would appear … freakish.
“Over a century ago, one of the few scientists who bothered to visit our unimportant settlement noticed how healthy our people were and their long life span.”
Joe looked down at his finger that had touched her tear, but still he didn’t speak.
“My ancestors managed to hide their secret for a while, but eventually someone from the ‘outside’ found out.”
“Your tears?”
“They contain a chemical that heals, invigorates, sustains health and can even prevent illness.”
“Your people were forced to…?” Joe gestured as he tried to form a question.
“No. Only the women in the royal lineage produce the Giroux Elixir, sometimes called Space Dope.”
Recognition flashed in Joe’s eyes. “Space Dope is used to prevent space travel malady.”
“You’ve used it?”
“No. We’re not prone to that ailment, but I’ve traveled with Galactic ministers and commanders who take it.”
She should have guessed the genetically engineered marines would have the proper makeup to avoid such a crippling illness. The prohibitive cost of Space Dope might have prevented them from receiving it even if they needed it. “Giroux’s economy depends on the income we receive from the sale of the elixir.”
Joe stared at his finger again. “It hasn’t been reproduced synthetically in a laboratory yet?”
Callie wrapped her hand around his finger. He lifted his gaze to hers.
“Sorry. You got a straight doze. We dilute it by nearly one hundred to one before we sell it.” She pulled his hand to her lap, finding comfort in the feel of his strong callused fingers interlocking with hers.
“That makes you very valuable.”
“Quite. The man I pick for my king will have access to a vast fortune.”
Joe expression darkened. “You must cry to produce the drug?”
“Yes. The strongest concentration of the chemical is produced when my tears are caused by joy.”
“Joy?” Joe leaned away from her, his gaze searching her face. “You cry when you’re happy? Do you make sport of me?”
“They’re the best kind of tears. They come from the heart, from all this is good and wonderful about being alive. They come from love so tremendous, it overflows.”
Joe looked doubtful. “Still, you must cry.”
“Yes.” She could almost see the wheels turning as he thought it over.
“What makes you cry these tears besides … joy?”
“The usual things anyone cries about.”
“I’ve never cried.”
“Not even as a child?”
“It was a weakness.”
Callie didn’t press, not sure she wanted to know more. “I cry when I’m sad, sometimes when I’m in pain and even if I laugh too much.”
“What is to stop someone from capturing you, torturing you, and collecting your tears?”
She shrugged. “Nothing protects me but the laws of the Galactic Constitution, my faithful friends and subjects, luck and a bit of craftiness.”
“And why you crashed here?”
“Since I’ve come of age, numerous attempts have been made to kidnap me. Making me a bride, no matter how reluctant, would probably protect my kidnapper from sanctioning.”
“Someone was chasing your ship?”
“We managed to lose them, but they’d fired on our ship. They wanted to disable us but caused only minor damage. Unfortunately, we couldn’t escape the meteor belt that sent us into the gravitational pull of this planet.”
“They’ll search for you.”
“I know.” Callie hopped off the wall and looked up at him. “But then again, they might never find us. I’m not going to put the lives of my friends on hold until they do.”
Joe jumped off the wall, giving her a questioning look.
“Joe, we’re going to build the first colony of Giroux. Someday, someone will come to this world and they’re going to find a thriving civilization. It’s time we get started.”
* * * *
“I can’t believe how much we’ve accomplished.” Callie lifted her braid off her neck and let the cool air flow across her skin.
“You mean how much they’ve accomplished,” Yalo corrected. “They’re engineering geniuses.”
Callie agreed. The men had used various gadgets, mechanisms and other parts from the two useless space craft to create heating and cooling units for all the buildings.
“Riba is moving into her place right now, and Grace should be able to do the same tomorrow,” Yalo continued.
“And when will your place be completed?”
Yalo sighed. “I still think I should stay with you.”
“You didn’t sleep in the same room with me at home. I’m as safe here as I was there, maybe even more so. You need your own place.”
“I need to protect you.”
“What does Vin need?” Callie smiled when Yalo’s face turned red. Did her friends think she was blind to the way they’d paired off with the marines?
“I … I should explain.” Yalo stuttered.
“Explain what? That the two of you have become close? That you finally found a man you respect?”
Yalo looked miserable. “You’re still my queen and my first responsibility.”
Callie laughed. “Your relationship with Vin is more than I could have hoped for. We’ll be here forever. We need to build a life, make families and produce children.”
Yalo’s color deepened.
Callie put her hand on her friend’s arm. “Just like we use the boarks for transportation and all these alien foodstuffs we’re living on, we have to use the resources available.”
“I don’t think of Vin as a resource,” Yalo said after a short silence. “I’m not using him.”
“You’re not?” Webb asked as he joined them on the bench beneath the air duct.
Callie didn’t appreciate the doctor sneaking up on their private conversation.
Yalo glared at him as she stood up. “What’s between us is none of your business.” She stomped away, slamming the door as she went out into the afternoon heat.
Callie turned her own glare on Webb. “It really isn’t your concern.”
“But it is, Queen of Giroux.” Webb smiled at her. “Do you think I only dedicate my practice to the physical ailments of my charges? Not that I have much to worry about that lately with no battles to fight. And of course, we have a producer of Space Dope in our midst.”
“Did Joe tell you about my gift?”
Webb laughed. “Joe? Tell me something? You mistake my relationship with our stoic commander if you think he shares information with me.”
“But you’re part of his recon team. How else would you know?”
“I know because I’m a doctor. I studied the chemistry and history of the Giroux Elixir and the queens who produce it as part of my medical training.”
“I didn’t know that.” C
allie didn’t like the idea that so many across the universe knew her family’s secret.
“Now, about my relationship with the marines.” Webb’s normally jovial expression saddened. “I only wish I was part of their unit. I was assigned a tour of duty with them by the Galactic Military Council.”
“Assigned?”
“I certainly would never have asked for it,” Webb answered with a humorless smile. “Their previous two physicians had both died in the field. I’d angered someone on the council, and here I am.”
Webb’s eyes took on a faraway look. “I was quite frightened. The recon marines’ main job is to be the first to invade. I won’t go into details of what they do.”
“Do all military units have their own doctor?”
“These marines are very expensive creations,” Webb answered with a touch of irony. “Their physician is required to attend them on the battlefield, or bunker, or when boarding an enemy vessel. Very dangerous work.”
“You survived.”
“Only because I learned the cause of my predecessor’s demise. I almost didn’t make it through my first mission.”
“You could duck better than the other doctors?”
Webb’s expression hardened at her attempt at humor. “No. I refused to obey my superior’s orders, therefore I survived.”
“I don’t understand.”
“These genetically manipulated men are valuable, as I said, but only if they can perform their function. If they can’t fight, they’re useless.”
“But….”
Webb held up his hand, shaking his head. “Joe and the others were made from carefully selected genetic codes. In order to design a superior fighting organism, they needed more than physical endowments. Intelligence, creativity, self-confidence, leadership and all those things necessary to be a recon marine.”
The doctor rubbed his hand across his face as if wiping away a memory. A haunted look remained. “The marines were watched closely. Part of my job was to secretly report on them.”
“Report what?” Callie asked softly when it seemed Webb wouldn’t continue.
The doctor made a helpless gesture with his hand. “Any signs of discontent. Any deviation from an assignment. The tiniest indication of thought beyond fighting and dying for the Galactic Council.”