Fallen Star

by Cyndi Friberg

  “If I let you do this…” She glanced at him then looked away. His gaze hadn’t lost its power. Despite his casual clothes and calm manner, he didn’t seem quite civilized. “How long will it take to fix the damage? Can you really restore my leg completely?” Will I be able to dance again? She couldn’t bring herself to ask the last question. It was too painful to even consider.

  “I won’t make specific promises, but I can certainly produce a better result than your human doctors.”

  The other elements of Angie’s “crazy story” returned with a vengeance. If Odintar was actually a healer, did that mean the rest was true? “Is someone really after me?” Fear penetrated her shock and brought the present into sharper focus.

  “Let’s concentrate on your leg right now. Once your physical limitations are resolved, I’ll answer all of your questions.”

  It was hard to argue with his logic. As it was right now, she couldn’t move off the couch without his help. She’d be a fool not to make herself less vulnerable. Empowered by a renewed purpose, she finally met his gaze. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Any barrier between your skin and mine will disrupt the concentration of energy. We can use a blanket to cover your other leg if you’re self-conscious, but I need access to your injury.”

  She chuckled. Didn’t he know how she made her living? She’d always refused to go topless, but she frequently danced in a thong. Her legs were her best asset. She was certainly not self-conscious about them. “You’ll need to help me. If we take off the brace, it’s really painful for me to move at all.”

  He carefully lifted her feet off his lap and stood. Then he steadied her leg while she released the Velcro straps. His touch was surprisingly gentle for such a large man. But then he looked more like a football player than a healer. No, an Army Ranger. He definitely put off military vibes. He supported her leg with one hand and gingerly removed the brace with the other, faultlessly anticipating where she needed his help.

  She sighed. It always felt wonderful to have the pressure gone. Until the slightest movement shot ribbons of pain up and down her leg. Leaning back against the arm of the sofa, she unzipped her jeans and tried to wiggle out of them. Discomfort spiked to her hip and she gasped.

  His hands brushed hers aside and he grasped the sides of her jeans. “Lift your hips and let me do the rest.”

  Awareness crackled around them as he bent over her. His scent, clean yet faintly spicy, teased her nose. Unable to resist the temptation, she inhaled deeply, imprinting the unique smell on her memory. The T-shirt hugged his broad shoulders then skimmed over his chest and abdomen, hinting at muscular definition she couldn’t actually see. His hips were lean, legs long. And those night-black eyes hypnotized her. She couldn’t remember ever having been this intrigued by a man she’d just met. It usually took her forever to develop a connection with anyone, male or female.

  He slowly peeled her jeans down, supporting her injured leg as he drew the pant leg off. His fingertips brushed her inner thigh, her calf, and then her ankle. She tried not to squirm as heat rolled through her abdomen and settled between her thighs with unmistakable intent.

  “You okay?” He straightened and set the jeans aside.

  The red-and-white-striped thong she’d slipped on that morning left not only her legs bare, but her hips and a good deal of her abdomen. “I’m fine.” The words sounded thin and uncertain and heat burst across her cheekbones. Good God, was she actually blushing? If he was a healer, he had to be used to seeing naked body parts.

  “Relax for a moment. I need to find a pair of scissors.” He turned and crossed the room, disappearing into the adjoining kitchen.

  She pulled her shirt down, covering her belly and most of her hips. This was ridiculous. Teleporting must have addled her brain. He was a healer, not a potential date.

  He returned with a pair of scissors and slowly removed the bandages covering her leg. There was a large incision on her thigh and a smaller one three inches below her knee. From upper thigh to ankle, her flesh was a mass of purple bruises. She needn’t have worried about him being aroused by her legs. Who would find this attractive?

  “Have they put pins or plates in your leg, anything artificial?”

  She shook her head. “So many of the blood vessels were damaged, they weren’t sure they were going to be able to save my leg. The focus of the first surgery was restoring blood flow while keeping me from bleeding to death. They wanted to make sure my leg was capable of healing before they bothered with any sort of reconstruction.”

  “That will work to our advantage. Anything metallic would have hindered my abilities.” He knelt beside the sofa and rolled his shoulders. “Make sure you’re in a comfortable position, this will take some time.”

  Relaxing back against the padded armrest, she watched him closely, waiting for him to begin. His chest expanded as he drew in a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them and focused on her leg. She didn’t ask the questions buzzing in her mind, didn’t want to distract him in any way.

  Tension banded her chest and she fought to remain still. Was this really happening? Her mind refused to register the possibility that she could be made whole again, that the shattered pieces of her dreams could be reassembled.

  He extended one hand and then the other, his palms hovering over her skin. A faint tingle rippled along her shin then spiraled through her thigh. She closed her eyes, trying to soothe her anxiety with pleasant thoughts and deep breaths, but his scent lingered in her nose, prolonging her restlessness. His fingers brushed her knee and she tensed.

  “There will be sensations, but this shouldn’t hurt. If you feel pain, let me know immediately.”

  She opened her eyes as she nodded, but he’d closed his eyes, so she said, “I will.”

  He slipped one hand under the bend of her knee and carefully pressed the other over the smaller incision. Heat passed between his hands in rhythmic pulses. Her calf muscle tensed and released over and over, the intensity not quite painful.

  By the time he moved on, she felt flushed and dizzy. Was this a side effect of the healing or was she hyperventilating? She tried to relax by counting her breaths. One in, out. Two in, out. Three…

  It was no use. An alien was healing her leg. The realization echoed through her mind, compounding her agitation. Aliens were on Earth, hunting mates, endangering her friends. Even in her mind it sounded ridiculous, yet how could she disregard the facts. Odintar could teleport and she’d yet to assess the result, but it sure as hell felt like he was healing her.

  He paused, his hand resting just above her knee. “You’re starting to resist me. Do we need to talk this out before I go on?”

  “It’s just surreal. I can’t stop thinking about all the things someone like you must be capable of doing.” The nonspecific fear hovered in the back of her mind, intensifying her anxiety.

  He moved his hand off her leg. “I will not harm you. Do you believe that much at least?”

  “I do.” She sighed. “But I can’t help wondering why you’re willing to help, not just me but humans in general.”

  “I understand your doubt and I will explain, but I need to finish stabilizing the fractures. Once the bones are solid again, I’ll stop and we can talk. All right?”

  “All right.”

  Moving closer to the sofa, he placed one hand on the outside of her leg and the other on her inner thigh. His long fingers splayed against her flesh and the warm pulsing resumed. She bent her uninjured knee and rotated her leg outward, giving him more room between her thighs. There was nothing sexual about his touch, but each time his hands shifted heat curled through her abdomen.

  She stared at the ceiling and fought the urge to wiggle. His hands were warm and each anxious breath drew his scent deeper into her lungs. Maybe there was something in his scent that was making her antsy. There had to be a reason she was reacting this way.

  He worked his way up from her knee and then back down. The sweeping motion spr
ead tingling heat through her muscles and joints. As he’d promised, it didn’t hurt. Still, her body registered an intimacy she knew he didn’t intend. Was she just so starved for human contact that she…but he wasn’t human!

  “It’s probably best if you don’t try to walk on it yet. The damage is extensive. Mobility should be better, though. See if you can bend your knee.”

  Desperate for a distraction from her convoluted thoughts, she happily complied. She slowly bent her knee and then straitened her leg again. Her muscles protested and her joints burned, but the sensations were uncomfortable not excruciating. She repeated the motion, faster this time and the pain was even less intrusive. “Wow. It really is better.”

  “Good.” He raked one hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders. “I need to eat something and rest for an hour or so, then we’ll get back to work. Are you hungry?”

  “Actually, I am.” The realization surprised her. Her appetite had been basically nonexistent since the accident. “Could you hand me my jeans.” She was no longer worried about him doing something inappropriate. It was her body bent on misbehavior.

  “I have a better idea.” Without explaining what he meant, he headed down the hallway toward the back of the house. He returned a few minutes later with a pair of pull-on shorts. “Tori gathered some of your things for you. They’re in the first bedroom.”

  “How long have you guys been planning my disappearance?” She took the shorts from his outstretched hand and scooted to the edge of the sofa so she could dress.

  “Not long. We knew something had to be done when we found out you were being discharged from the hospital.” She slipped the shorts on then stood so she could pull them up. Odintar was beside her in an instant, steadying her and making sure her weight remained centered on her uninjured leg. “Shall I carry you into the kitchen or bring the food out here?”

  His gaze moved over her features with caressing intensity and the blue rings flickered within the pools of black. “Why do they do that?” she whispered.

  “Why does who do what?”

  The jumbled question made her smile. “Your eyes. At times I see rings of blue inside your eyes. Is something causing the flash of color or is it spontaneous?”

  His features relaxed and the rings reformed, bright, solid circles separating his pupils from his equally dark irises. “I’m able to make subtle changes to my appearance. It helps me blend in with humans. Sometimes, when I’m particularly distracted, I lose control of the shift.”

  Heat crept up her neck as she absorbed the inference. He found her as distracting as she found him. Tension arced between them, pulling them closer like a gravitational field. She swayed toward him, tilting her face up in the process. He leaned down and her lips parted, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead he swept her up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen.

  Without her jeans she was inescapably aware of his arms, his hands, and the fluid strength with which he moved. He was staring straight ahead, so she took advantage of the opportunity and examined his features up close. Whiskers shadowed his jaw as if he hadn’t shaved for a day or two. Rather than make him look slovenly, the bristles accented the angle of his jaw and his prominent cheekbones. Were his eyes the only feature he altered or was his natural appearance even more alien? The question seemed rude, so she kept her speculation to herself.

  He pulled out a chair with his foot and set her down. “Are you warm enough or should I find a blanket.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured, warmed by his ongoing concern.

  “All right.” He crossed to the refrigerator and pulled it open. “Unfortunately, I’m not much of a cook. How about a sandwich.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers. Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”

  He gathered what he needed for their makeshift meal and brought the supplies to the table. “So how much did Angie tell you? I don’t want to be repetitive.”

  He’d brought a bottle of beer and a can of cola. She picked up the cola and left him the beer. “You probably better start over. I didn’t take her seriously.” She opened packages and handed him utensils, not wanting to feel completely useless.

  “Shadow Assassins were created during the Great Conflict on Ontariese.”

  “Created? Don’t you mean their organization formed during the Great Conflict?”

  “Yes and no. Their society formed because of the war, but the current generation of Shadow Assassins is equipped with nanotechnology that heightens their natural abilities.”

  She had no doubt they could spend days discussing history, but she was far more interested in the current conflict. “What brought them to Earth?”

  “Their hideout was discovered and their society disbanded. They were taken to the City of Tears, our largest military compound. Most of the soldiers transitioned well and welcomed the changes, but the hunters—”

  “Hunters?” She shivered. “Do I even want to know what they hunt?”

  “I suspect from your reaction that Angie told you.” He paused long enough to set a sandwich on a plate and hand it to her. “They hunt potential mates. On Ontariese the females were kidnapped and held against their wills until they produced offspring. If the child was male, the mother was released while the son remained with his father. Any memory she had of her captivity was scrubbed from her mind.”

  These people could teleport and heal. Was it really surprising that they could manipulate memories? The disconcerting thought was rapidly eroding her appetite, so took a couple of bites before asking, “What if she had a girl?”

  “The Shadow Assassin would try again.” He raised his sandwich to his mouth and took a bite.

  “Their operation was shut down on Ontariese, so they came to Earth to start over?”

  “Not exactly.” The subject had no effect on his appetite. He devoured one sandwich and started on the other before he explained, “Their objective now is different than it was on Ontariese. Their primary concern before was maintaining their population. Now they hope to find females worthy of joining their society so they can create traditional family units.”

  “What can they offer human females that would make them do anything other than run screaming in the other direction? Or do they intend to hold them prisoner as they did before?”

  “They’re frantically working on a procedure that will allow them to transfer their abilities to their mates. Would human females be tempted by the possibility of attaining paranormal abilities?”

  She set down her half-eaten sandwich and reached for a napkin. As long as she thought about the concepts in the abstract, the subject was interesting. But she couldn’t quite suppress the fact that she was the target of one of the Shadow Assassins. These weren’t meaningless facts. Odintar was explaining what Nazerel had in mind for her. “You made them sound like mercenaries. Do these men have the scientific background to accomplish the transfer?”

  “They don’t, but they’re being sponsored by someone who does. Her name is Sevrin Keire and she’s from a planet called Rodymia.”

  “Oh we don’t just have Ontarians on Earth. We have Rodymians too?”

  “They’re called Rodytes, but yes. There are two kinds of ‘aliens’ on Earth.” A smile turned up one corner of his mouth as he said, “My mother was from Bilarri, so I guess that make three kinds of aliens.”

  “Ontariese, Rodymia and Bilarri? How many of the planets in your star system are inhabited?”

  “Just those three in my star system, but we interact with many outside our star system.”

  “Of course you do. You can will yourself from one side of the cosmos to the other in the blink of an eye. How foolish of me.” She set her napkin down on top of her plate, no longer interested in the sandwich. She must seem so simplistic, so useless to him.

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that, but we do travel extensively.”

  “How many Shadow Assassins are there and how many people have been sent to… Are you trying to apprehend them or kill them? I have
no idea how this works on your world.”

  “The Mystic Militia consists of six men. Three are Master-level Mages. The other three are highly trained soldiers.”

  “You’re one of the mages?”

  “I am. Lor is our leader and Blayne is also able to manipulate magic. I believe you’ve met them.”

  She nodded. She’d been introduced to Lor by Tori and apparently Angie had hooked up with Blayne, but Jillian didn’t really know either man. “They’re involved with friends of mine. Are you sure it’s only the Shadow Assassins who came to Earth to find mates?”

  He had the audacity to grin. “Finding mates is not our primary objective, but being on a planet where females are plentiful is a rare treat for us.”

  His gaze took on that warm, caressing quality again and she picked up her cola, needing something to do with her hands. “What happened to the females on Ontariese?”

  “A biological weapon annihilated millions during our last war.”

  She cringed then shook her head. The outcome of most wars didn’t justify the sacrifice, in her estimation, but she kept the opinion to herself. “Were women intentionally targeted?”

  “Yes. Our society has been matriarchal for several millennia. One side of the Great Conflict wanted to continue the sacred traditions while the other wanted to explore other power structures. The leader of the Reformation Sect launched the biological weapon, expecting it to kill off the majority of Traditionalist Sect females. Unfortunately, the inoculation that was supposed to protect Reformation Sect females didn’t work, so his need for power nearly obliterated our entire species.” He released a long, shuddering sigh before he added, “The ratio is better now, but there are still many more men than women.”

  She had a million questions about the Great Conflict, but there was too much she needed to understand about the present situation for her to explore the past. “How many Shadow Assassins are here on Earth?”