by Mina Carter
It didn’t take him long to get back, his breathing barely any heavier as he reached the ship. He ran longer and harder every day to train, so a little bit of a nighttime jog didn’t bother him in the slightest. Reacting to his bio-signature, the airlock hissed and the bottom ramp dropped down to allow him access to the interior.
Ducking under the hull, he made his way inside. As the ramp lifted, the inside lighting rose to a comfortable level.
“Keris, status report,” he ordered as he headed toward the back of the main compartment. “Reconfigure rear compartment to living area.”
The Keris was an older imperial class long-range flyer, but he’d had it refitted with all the latest technology. The interior was one large room, with fixtures and furniture hidden away in the walls and floor. At his command, panels clicked and moved aside, a bed and washing facilities moving into place. Before he reached it, the sink began to fill with hot water.
“All systems report normal,” the AI answered him in a soft, female voice. “No sentient activity within five parasecs, indigenous fauna only. A cow tried to lick my hull!” it added indignantly.
Hands elbow deep in the water, he chuckled. “Cows? Look who’s been reading up on the locals!” he teased, looking around at the AI housing in the pilot’s section at the front of the flyer. The lavender lights on the front of the small box set in the middle of the command console blinked in a complicated rhythm that indicated Keris, the AI portion of the ship, was thinking.
“Well, someone had to,” the AI reported. “Did you know they share marked similarities with the oonat? It’s possible they share a common ancestor…”
Rynn closed his eyes as Keris trailed off, and he splashed water on his face. He didn’t bother to answer. Even an AI had to have realized by now he didn’t like to talk about the oonat or even think about them.
Like a lot of the younger generation of warriors, he was oonat-born. It wasn’t supposed to be a slight on his blood line. Genetic manipulation had ensured that, despite the fact his gestational carrier had been one of the servant race, he was one hundred percent Lathar. But he still felt the eyes on him. Heard the comments no one dared to make anymore, not in his hearing anyway. He felt… less somehow, even though he knew that was nonsense.
“Annnyhow…” Keris continued quickly. “It felt weird. Icky. I buzzed it—”
He looked up quickly. “You did what? Please tell me you didn’t fry it with a laser array!”
Draanth, the last thing he needed was a farmer out here investigating what had flash roasted his livestock.
“No, I did not!” Keris replied indignantly. “I used low level disharmonies. Made it feel weird and it wandered off. I can show you which one it is in the next field if you like?”
“No,” he sighed tiredly and wiped his face on the towel next to the sink before shoving it back into the sonic cleaner. Running his hands through his hair, he secured it at the nape of his neck with a tie from around his wrist and flopped down on the bed.
“Keris, wake me an hour before sunrise,” he said with a wide yawn that almost blotted out the AI’s confirmation. But, despite his best intentions to sleep, thoughts of Jac’s smile kept him awake into the early hours of the morning. Perhaps tomorrow he could make a slight detour and see her one last time before he left Earth. Maybe finally get that kiss they’d nearly shared…
“Lizzie still in deep sleep this morning?” Jac called out to Amanda in the front room as she crouched to gather bathing supplies from under the sink in the bathroom.
She’d made sure to arrive early at the Kallson house, knowing that, sick with this never-ending flu virus, Amanda wouldn’t have had the energy to give her daughter a sponge bath. Bedsores were a problem with those who were bed-bound, and the last thing they needed was Lizzie getting those on top of whatever else it was she had.
The doctors thought it might be a new type of Sleeping Beauty syndrome, one that affected adults, but none of them could agree on the causes or even treatment. The poor girl had been poked and prodded so much, Jac was glad she was asleep and couldn’t remember it.
At least, she didn’t think Lizzie would remember. There were periods of the day when she was awake, if sitting up and staring into space could be considered such. At least during those periods they could make sure she ate, used the bathroom, and moved around enough that her muscles didn’t atrophy.
“Yes, hon. She’s been like that since you put her down last night. I checked in on her a couple of times and turned her,” Amanda called back, her voice weak.
Jac nodded as she ran some warm water, adding Lizzie’s favorite scent.
Most bed-bound patients lay in one position all night and required special mattresses that prevented pressure spots forming, but given Lizzie could get up and move about with prompting, the insurance company had refused to pay for one. Which meant that someone had to make sure she turned over a couple of times a night.
Fortunately, even though Lizzie spent most of her day in deep sleep, a touch on the shoulder was often all that was required to get her to turn over or change position. That, at least, was somewhat of a blessing. There was no way Amanda could physically turn her daughter over. She’d injure herself for sure.
Walking through into the bedroom, Jac smiled at the young woman lying asleep on the bed.
“Morning, Lizzie! Ready for your bath?” she asked chirpily, as though the girl could hear her. After all, the doctors couldn’t say one way or the other whether she could or couldn’t. Jac preferred to think that she could, that she was in there somewhere, listening and waiting for the right time to rejoin the waking world. It beat any of the alternatives.
“It’s a lovely day outside. You should have heard the birds singing on the walk over here.”
She kept up the light chatter as she gave the unconscious girl a sponge bath. The doorbell jangled merrily in the background, but she ignored it. Amanda had an appointment with the doctor today, so it was probably Roger arriving to take her.
Her brow creased at the deep coughing as Amanda headed for the front door. Hopefully the guy would get off his ass and prescribe her something before that damn cough got any worse. Having met the new town doc, Doctor McGregor, though, she didn’t hold out much hope.
He was young, which most of the town had assumed meant he would be more at the cutting edge of medicine than old Doc Chambers had been. Unfortunately, he was the “harm none” type who believed in rest and “letting the body heal itself.” In layman’s terms, he was less than generous with the pills.
The rumble of a deep male voice told her that Roger had arrived, and she quickly dressed Lizzie, tucking her back under the covers. For a moment she stood looking at the young woman. Even in sleep, she looked like an angel. Both Kallson girls were beautiful, and many a young man in the town had entertained daydreams of getting one or the other up the aisle. But then Jessica had enlisted and Lizzie had gone off to college, both leaving the town within weeks of each other. Only Lizzie’s illness had brought her back.
“She’s just through here, Doctor Middleton. Jacqueline is already with her. Jac, is Lizzie decent?”
Jac straightened up at the sound of Amanda’s voice, a frown forming on her brow as she turned toward the door.
“Yes, Mrs. Kallson. We’re all done in here,” she called back, wondering who the hell Doctor Middleton was… and, more importantly, what he wanted. She couldn’t help a surge of protectiveness toward the younger woman and toward Amanda. The last thing she needed was someone getting her hopes up again.
When Lizzie had first slipped into her waking coma, a lot of doctors had come to see her. Specialists in this, that, or the other… all convinced that they could cure her. Over the last few weeks, though, those visits had dwindled down to nothing. Nor had any of them borne fruit. Usually they never heard from the so-called specialists again.
“Thank you. Do you mind if I go in and say hi to her?”
The deep voice was familiar, the hackles rising on the
back of Jac’s neck as the door was pushed open. Jac’s gaze cut past Amanda’s frail figure to the tall, broad-shouldered form behind her.
Rynn.
“Of course not. Please, come through. Ah, Jac.” Amanda smiled as she stepped aside to let the man following her enter the room. “Jac, this is Doctor Middleton. He’s a specialist in the Sleeping Beauty syndrome and its variants. Doctor, this is Jac Wright. She’s the lovely young lady who helps me care for Lizzie.”
Rynn’s smile had frozen for a split second when he’d spotted her, but within a heartbeat, he smiled again, his expression pleasant and polite. Taking a step forward, he offered his hand as though they’d never met.
“Good morning, Miss Wright. A pleasure to meet you.”
She forced a smile to her face, concealing the anger beginning to simmer deep inside, and shook his hand firmly.
“Doctor Middleton.” She didn’t add anything else, letting his hand go as soon as politely possible. Moving to the side to let him approach the bed and its occupant, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. What the hell was he playing at? If he was a doctor, she was a monkey’s uncle.
He sure looked the part though. Gone was the cartoon tee and fashionable leather pants he’d worn last night, replaced by a smart sweater over a shirt and pants combo. His hair, so wild and untamed before, was combed and neatly caught back at the nape of his neck, and the blue eyes she’d been so fascinated with were corralled behind a pair of round horn-rimmed spectacles. He was the very archetype of the doctor look. If she’d opened a dictionary, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see him looking back out from under the description of doctor.
It was the perfect act, and Amanda was lapping it up.
“I have all the notes,” the older woman said, wringing her hands lightly as she stood next to the interloper. The small action betrayed just how much she still wanted to believe. Jac’s heart hardened a little more toward Rynn. Asshole would break Amanda’s heart this way. “You’re more than welcome to them. Perhaps something in them might help?”
“That would be most useful,” Rynn commented, leaning forward to check Lizzie’s vitals. Jac had to admit, his hands were sure and his movements competent. If she didn’t know he wasn’t a doctor, even she’d have been fooled. His lips pursed a little in concentration, and another sharp bolt of annoyance rolled through Jac. He was a liar and she didn’t find liars attractive. Ever.
Standing up, he looked at Amanda. His expression was grave.
“I’ll be honest,” he said in that deep voice. “I’m not sure I can help her, but I have colleagues who specialize in diseases of non-Terran origin. I’d like your permission to take her to a special facility for treatment.”
Amanda blinked, her jaw gaping as she looked up at him. Jac knew how she felt, the same surprise rolling through her.
“You think…” Amanda started but then shook her head, getting herself together to ask. “You think it might be something… alien?”
Rynn inclined his head. “It’s entirely possible, yes. Earth has many non-Terran colonies. Even though humanity is well established on them, those populations would be used to native viruses and would have built up an immunity. However, that immunity may not extend to everyone on Earth. If Lizzie came into contact with such a virus without having built up an immunity, it could have caused what we’re seeing here. I won’t know for sure until we’ve run some deep genetic scans.”
“Oh my word.” The older woman’s hand had crept up to her chest and she looked at the bigger man with hope in her eyes. “You can do that for my baby? Please… anything you can do to help her. I’ll sign whatever I need to get her into your facility.”
He smiled, reaching out to take her hand and patting it. “We can help her. I promise. Now… if you can get some belongings together for her, I’ll call my office and we’ll see about getting her transferred.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Amanda gasped, tears in her eyes. She started to cough, the vicious sounds tearing through her frail body.
Jac stepped forward, hand out to help the older woman, but Amanda waved her off. “I’m good. Thank you,” she managed eventually, her voice weak. Before she could say anything else, the doorbell rang again and then a second later, a male voice called out for Amanda.
“Is that the time? Oh my,” she said, her face falling as she looked back at Lizzie and the fake doctor in front of her, obviously torn.
Jac took the opportunity.
“Why don’t you go to your appointment, Mrs. Kallson?” she prompted quickly. “I’m sure it will take Doctor Middleton a while to arrange transport, and I can get Lizzie’s things together. You’ll be back before anything’s arranged. Right, Doctor?” she challenged, looking up at Rynn for confirmation.
“Of course. It will take time for the transportation to get here.” He nodded, pushing his glasses back up his nose. If he actually needed them, she’d eat her damn hat. They looked ridiculously sexy, like some porn star ideal of what a doctor should look like.
“See?” She turned with a smile, nudging the older woman toward the door. “You go get yourself sorted and then we’ll all be here for Lizzie.”
“Okay. Thank you, both of you.” Leaning down, Amanda brushed a kiss over her daughter’s forehead. “I’ll be back in a little while, baby. Don’t you worry. You’ll be all better soon. I promise.”
Nodding to them both, she headed out of the bedroom door, calling out to Roger that she was ready to go.
As soon as she heard the front door close after the pair, Jac folded her arms and glared at Rynn.
“Okay, handsome, what the fuck do you think you’re playing at? Because one thing’s for sure. You’re no more a doctor than I am.”
Chapter Six
Oh draanth.
Rynn had known he was screwed from the moment he’d stepped through the door and Jac’s unique and delicate scent had wound around him. Elation had surged through him for a second. He hadn’t expected to see her again.
Although his heart had yearned to, he was too much of a professional… while on mission, that came first. He’d tossed and turned all night, knowing that no matter how much he wanted to see the beautiful Terran woman again, he really should return Lady Jessica’s sister to Lathar prime as soon as possible.
No stops. No visits. Just the mission.
That hadn’t stopped him from daydreaming of dropping by before he left. Or even of throwing her over his shoulder and kidnapping her as his warrior’s instincts urged him to. In his fantasies she’d welcomed him, going with him willingly, if a little shyly, and accepted his claim immediately.
As soon as her eyes met his in the cold light of day, though, all those thoughts died a swift and sudden death. Far from being warm, her pale eyes were cold and suspicious.
“Well?” she demanded, folding her arms over her chest.
He tried hard not to let his gaze flick down to the enticing swell of her breasts. He’d dealt with all sorts of females over the years, stunning women any warrior would kill to have in his bed, but none of them had affected him as this little human did.
There was obviously something wrong with him. He’d have to get Keris to check him out as soon as he was back on board. Perhaps his words to Amanda Kallson hadn’t been so far off the mark. Could there be an Earth virus that would affect a Latharian warrior?
“I apologize for the confusion…” he started with an ingratiating smile, playing for time as he figured out how to explain. Meeting her here was the worst luck, but, she hadn’t blown his cover. She’d waited until the mother was out of the room before confronting him. So how did he play this?
“… and for leading you to believe I was an actor. Well, that part is actually true,” he added, not quite lying. He knew he had to lie through his teeth here. How could he tell her what he really was, even though every instinct he had clamored for him to do just that?
He couldn’t, though.
If it were known that a warrior of the Latha
r had set foot on any Terran-held planet or colony, all the progress the delegation even now dealing with their leaders had made would be destroyed. The emperor wanted an alliance, not a war… Unless it was absolutely necessary.
She arched an eyebrow but remained silent. He had the feeling she was giving him enough rope to hang himself.
“I act on the side,” he explained. “A hobby, if you will. I don’t usually tell people I’m a doctor because, well…” he chuckled a little and indicated himself. “Would you believe me?”
She didn’t move, her expression set as she studied him. He’d resisted the urge to modulate his voice, even though it would be easier. That would make her sick, though, and he wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t cause her pain on purpose, not even for his mission. His eyes widened at the realization. That was new. Normally nothing came before a mission.
Then she sighed, looking him up and down, and he sensed the small softening in her resolve.
“No,” she admitted. “You don’t look like a doctor. Not a real one anyway. Maybe the wet-dream porn version.”
“I’m sorry?” He blinked. That had not been what he was expecting at all.
He knew what porn was. All the warriors did. They’d found stores of it in the Sentinel’s computer core and had been both horrified and fascinated. He admitted, some of it was… arousing… but there was a wealth of other, darker stuff that just made him want to track the males down and remove their ability to breathe. Permanently. Why a male would want to treat a female that way… he almost shuddered at the memory.
“Oh, come on,” she laughed, the sound still a little harsh, and flicked a hand in his direction. “You have to know what you look like. Any red-blooded woman would be gagging to get you into bed and ride all that.”
He focused on her. On the tiny clues she was giving him.
“Any red-blooded woman? How about you?”
She snorted. “You want me to massage your ego? Yeah, before I found out you were a liar, I wouldn’t have kicked you out of bed.”
