by Mel Teshco
Genesis placed her on the cercanne and helped her adjust her feet in the stirrups. She wiggled her toes, marveling how the sand was too hot by far for her to walk on; yet her delicate skin had yet to burn, even redden slightly. It was as if the ground absorbed all the heat.
“Wait one second.” He grinned and added drily, “Don’t go anywhere.”
He strode past the bolishtas and toward the gardens. Stooping, he plucked one of the plants from the ground and brought it back with him. Red vines like thin, nobly ropes hung down from a hollow, central wand. He handed it to her with a flourish. “Flowers for my woman.”
She accepted the spongy offering feeling every bit the fraud she was. But somehow she croaked, “Thank you. But…flowers?”
“That’s right.” He stroked the inside of the central wand and one flower popped out from the nobly part of the vine, followed by another and another, until a bouquet of bright red, roselike flowers filled her hands.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered, awed by the magnificence in her hands.
He plucked one from its vine and pressed it behind her ear. “Not nearly as beautiful as you, Sheehar.”
Something in her chest hurt. God, she really was falling for him, despite herself. Shame he was wooing a fake, a woman not even his intended.
He climbed aboard the cercanne. As it came to life she could only be glad he was oblivious to the tears that fell as he turned the bike around for the return journey.
She didn’t deserve him.
As they sped along the sand, her arms wrapped around his waist and the bouquet clutched in her hands, the flower whipped free from her hair. She turned around and watched the bloom bounce behind them, abandoned and soon swallowed up by the surroundings, not unlike the way her lies had become a seamless part of herself.
Genesis’ people had set up quite the feast by the time they returned. Aromas she didn’t recognize permeated the air and made her belly grumble with hunger.
Big bowls of steaming food—the sylaks had been kept busy—sat on a long shield table that hovered just above the ground, caltronian rugs laid out either side as seats.
Katy’s two cherub-faced children ran around the tents, giggling as they took it-in turns giving chase, their dads watching proudly.
Genesis once again carried her over the hot sand, and she couldn’t help but think he would look every inch the satisfied male as he approached the small group of people waiting for their arrival.
Madge looked up with a broad smile, a still-sleeping baby in her arms. Then Katy and Michelle approached, beaming at them.
“Everything is ready, my Prince and Princess,” Katy announced.
Genesis thanked them before he placed Eden onto the nearest rug. She dragged her stare away from his hot gaze, feeling a little shy in front of so many interested faces.
Glancing at his people, she caught Sala’s speculative, unfriendly stare as she stood just outside the group. With a barbed smile, the other woman approached. “Congratulations to the happy couple.” There was a barely concealed, glacial glitter in her stare as she openly examined Eden’s neck. “But no marking yet I see.”
Eden sucked in a breath. She’d heard all about the marking ceremony that was unlike an Earth wedding in many respects. Her parents had warned Aline more than once about what would be expected. Eden wrung her hands. The male bit his intended woman with his long, back fangs, injecting pheromones under the skin to let other males know she was taken.
Oh, shit.
She turned away from Sala, her attention all on Genesis as she asked unsteadily, “This feast…please tell it’s not leading up to our marking ceremony?”
Genesis’ frown moved away from Sala to focus on her. “Relax, Sheehar. The old ways are a thing of the past in my province. Only the most traditional continue to perform the ceremony before their intended is ready—while all watch.”
Resentment fairly pulsed from Sala when Genesis leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured, “When you tell me you love me, then I know you’re ready and I’ll mark you—in private.”
Her breath hitched as her heart fluttered unsteadily in her chest. How had she once wondered if the aliens’ edicts were barbaric? She should have known better by their leader’s example alone.
Her breathing returning to normal, she said softly, “I’m glad.”
Sala’s spite was made void by Genesis’ warm smile. “Today is my peoples’ final celebration to welcome us home. It isn’t every day they get to greet a princess.”
Home? Strange how in such a short time the word didn’t seem so foreign or unnatural. Genesis was right. Carèche really did have a way of sinking into one’s bones and wrapping itself around one’s soul.
Trasean appeared from a nearby donya with a small drum in his hands. When he tapped out a throbbing, strangely haunting sound, Auron took to the imaginary stage beside him on the sand and began an acrobatic dance that was exquisite to behold.
“Entertainment,” Genesis said with a wry grin as she stared, spellbound.
“They’re amazing.” Musician and dancer were united as one. And despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was possible her sister could fall for these men. Both of them.
Genesis motioned that she sit on the caltronian fur beside him. As everyone but Trasean and Auron followed their example, the shield table began to slowly revolve, so that all the bowls of food could be viewed and taken at leisure.
Genesis selected two round cups and handed one to her. “Lakroda,” he informed. “Our natural and much healthier version to Earth’s liquor—unless one drinks excessively.”
She sniffed the liquid appreciatively. Mint with spicy overtones. “I’ve always wanted to try this,” she conceded. “It was one of the few alien plants that didn’t thrive on Earth.”
She drained the cup, relishing every drop of the exotic beverage that revealed vague hints of kiwi fruit.
“I take it you like?” Genesis asked with a wry grin.
She nodded, already feeling lightheaded and a little weird. “But I think I’ve had enough.”
Sala snorted, grabbed a cup and gulped hers down as though to prove the Earth princess was weak and couldn’t handle her alcohol.
A scowl dissolved Genesis’ humor. “Sala, is there something you’d like to say?”
Sala plunked the empty cup back onto the revolving table and looked up. “I do, my Prince.” Retrieving another cup from the table, she raised it in the air and announced bitterly, “Kas’lios, Princess.”
A thick, awkward silence was awarded for her efforts, the people plainly stunned by Sala’s behavior.
Auron paused in his dance and, at a nod from Genesis, he approached Sala. Whatever he whispered in her ear obviously had a sobering effect. He led her away from the celebrations without any fuss.
“Forgive me, Sheehar,” Genesis said, a tinge of weariness in his voice, “I should never have allowed her to stay and spoil the celebrations.”
“She’s in love with you.”
It wasn’t a question and he didn’t answer it as one. “She thinks she is, but she knows nothing of the emotion. In fact, I’m certain she’s more in love with the thought of being a royal.” He brushed one side of her face with a hand. “Of being you.”
Trasean upped the tempo on his drums and it wasn’t long before the festive air returned once more. Eden thrived on Genesis’ attention, his whispered comments in her ear as the talk and laughter around them escalated.
Sampling the food from the table would have been any connoisseurs dream. Her first dish was herbed, white meat that melted in the mouth and tasted a lot like Earth’s wild rabbit. A flower petal and red melon combo that had been drizzled in some kind of honey-flavored syrup was her next dish of choice, followed by a spiced, gravy meat stew that was too delicious for words.
“Caltronian,” Genesis informed her as she ate the last mouthful of the stew with obvious relish.
If the idea left her feeling a lit
tle squeamish, she didn’t have time to acknowledge it. Not when the drum beat came to an abrupt end and all eyes turned to Trasean, a collective gasp sounding at the light flashing from the glass bauble at his throat.
Auron ran from whichever donya he’d taken Sala. His bauble also flashed, his eyes feverish with excitement and in total contrast to Trasean’s shocked expression. Running to Trasean, he clapped his shoulder and shouted, “It is time!”
A sick feeling hit the pit of her belly then crawled over her body as understanding dawned. The glass baubles warned Trasean and Auron when their intended was found.
Oh Aline, no.
What were the chances the transmitter had located another Earth woman besides Aline? Probably slim to none. However few human women had been left on Earth, she was certain most would already be on Carèche with their alien intendeds.
If she could have bawled she would have. Instead she sat silent, stiff and disbelieving. Everything she’d done, all her lies, however well intentioned, could well have been for nothing. Worse than nothing once Genesis discovered her deception.
Somehow she kept the shudders all on the inside.
She wasn’t even his woman yet, not officially. Not until she was marked.
She closed her eyes as an insidious voice crept into her mind. When he returns, tell him you love him so that he’ll mark you. Tell him before Aline is found and he discovers your deceit.
No. She bit into her bottom lip, her eyelids fluttering open. If she was to survive this whole ordeal with at least some of her dignity intact, she couldn’t dig herself even deeper with lies.
Genesis pushed to his feet and everyone quieted expectantly. “You all know the drill. Gather the necessary provisions and weapons.” A sudden, hot breeze fluttered through his hair and lifted it from his shoulders, the sand at their feet shifting. “Men, we leave for the tower in one hour and see who exactly this signal has found.”
As everyone including the women dispersed, Genesis turned. He crouched beside her, his hands curling over her shoulders. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned our celebrations to end.”
I’m sorry too.
His eyes darkened, hands tightening a little. “But when I return I’ll show you exactly how glad I am to have found you.”
She managed a nod, words sticking in her throat as though the sharp edges of a serrated bone. He would hate her once he discovered the truth and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to prevent her deception from being revealed.
His hands slid down to clasp hers before he stood again and pulled her upright. His eyes gleamed as his head lowered and his mouth covered hers, taking ownership of the kiss as though a promise of things to come.
At her stiff response he pulled back with a questioning glint in his eyes. “You don’t want me to go?”
A hot flush spread across her face as she searched his stare, unsure what exactly she was looking for but aware that divulging the desperation building within could well give away her secret. Her hope that he not find her sister. “No,” she admitted.
He frowned. “This is important to my men. They deserve a chance at happiness too.” His frown deepened. “What is this all about?”
Please don’t go there.
She shook her head. “Nothing…I’m just being silly…selfish, really.” At least she wasn’t lying about the latter. She lifted a hand. “You could get hurt…”
He kissed her again, tentatively though this time, as though feeling her out. He drew back, ever watchful. “You have nothing to fear. We don’t plan to confront any caltronians—not tonight.”
There was that at least, one less worry to fret about.
She nodded and he said, “I need to get to the supply donya.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She didn’t have the strength to cry, though great sadness welled in her soul as she watched him stride purposefully away and wondered how long it would be before he looked at her with disgust and bitter resentment.
Minutes later she was still standing alone, while everyone else had been all too eager to help Trasean and Auron do whatever it took to find their intended. Everyone but her. Bloody hell, she must look like the worst kind of selfish bitch.
“You don’t want them to find the Earth woman, do you?” a thin voice asked.
So she wasn’t alone. She should have known better.
Eden turned and faced Sala, the sly awareness in the other woman’s eyes telling her the mental cogs were spinning fast. Yet, even after all Eden’s lies—perhaps because of them—she couldn’t deny the truth.
“No, I don’t,” she conceded.
Sala’s smile was one part malice and two parts satisfaction. “Then we’ve got one thing in common.”
I doubt that.
“And why wouldn’t you want another Earth woman found?” she asked.
“Because I’ve been the lucky recipient of more than one man’s affections since my intended’s death, and, frankly, I don’t want to lose that.” She glared. “It’s bad enough I’ve lost Genesis to you. I don’t want to lose anyone else to some other lucky Earth bitch.”
“Yet you’re free now to choose whoever you want.”
“You mean free to choose those who want me in return…permanently.”
Oh dear lord. Had the jealousy eating Sala from the inside out caused the almost manic sickness that shone from her eyes? Undoubtedly the same sickness that caused Auron and Trasean to withdraw, along with lord knew how many other male lovers.
“You know,” Sala’s speculative gaze raked over her, “you and I could work together to make sure they don’t find her.”
Despite the deep reservations screaming at her not to be suckered in, hope flickered within. With Sala’s help there’d be double the chance of saving Aline. Sala had local knowledge and was beyond prepared to take risks.
“How so?”
Sala stepped closer and Eden had to force her legs not to backpedal. The woman whispered in an undertone meant for her ears only. “The men will be leaving shortly…but not if I scream my lungs out that a caltronian is lurking nearby.”
Eden’s breath stalled in her throat when the temptation to go along with the idea beckoned, as though the apple for Eve. The scheme was so despicable it just might work.
Think of Aline.
Except she was no longer exactly sure what Aline really wanted. Yes, she’d seen terror on her sister’s face on more than once occasion when she’d found her alone and staring into space, but she’d also caught her more than a few times with a dreamy expression on her face.
Eden bit her lip. Deflated emotions left her flat, uncertain. Had she ever really been certain. Fuck. Had she unwittingly sabotaged her sister’s chance at happiness from the moment she’d laid eyes on Genesis?
“What about tracks?” she asked. “I’m sure they’ll soon discover there are none.”
Sala arched a brow and lifted an upturned hand to indicate their surroundings. “The desert breeze has picked up, covering any prints they might wish to find.”
The mallakwats trotted around the corner of one of the donyas, making snuffling noises in their throat as though communicating to one another. They stilled, ignoring her and Sala and seemingly alerted by the commotion and haste of the people just out of their vision.
Sala raised a hand and pointed toward the horizon, her nostrils flared and her eyes fierce. “Go! Merleshta caltronian!”
Their eyes swiveled to Sala, attentive and wide. Round ears flattening to their skull and their fur rising, they spun around and bounded to where she’d pointed, silent predators.
Before Eden had a chance to think things through, Sala released an ear-splitting scream. “Caltronian!”
The males came running from the direction of the supply donya, gathering and herding all the women and children before them in protective formation.
Genesis sought out Eden, desperation stark in his eyes. “Thank
the Gods!” he growled, pulling her into his arms. He looked down. “Are you okay?”
She nodded jerkily before her voice cracked, “Yes.”
He kissed the crown of her head before his focus swung to Sala. The other woman’s face was tearstained and frightened, a sight to behold. She was the consummate actress.
Better than me?
“Sala, are you sure?” Genesis asked.
Her eyes widened dramatically. “Of course I’m sure!” She swiped away her tears and pointed at Eden. “She saw it too.”
Eden stiffened. The bitch really was putting her in it, giving her no choice but to either deny it now or go along with the scheme.
Genesis’ voice gentled as his gaze returned to her. “Is that true?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Y…yes.”
The mallakwats chased it that way.” With a delicate shudder, Sala pointed to where she’d sent the camp guardians.
Genesis didn’t bother masking a frown. With a slow nod he said, “All right. Men, we’ll go after the beast first. We can’t take the chance that the rogue won’t attack our women and children while we’re gone.”
Trasean and Auron stared at Sala before they swung their hard, brilliant gazes her way. Eden resisted squirming. She was in too deep to try to get out of it now. Their thoughts imperceptible, they nodded assent.
Genesis swiped a hand over his face. “My donya is the safest place. The shields will help protect everyone from possible attack.” His voice rose as he took in the women, the children, “Sheehar will take you all into the donya, the shields will open for her.”
Eden swallowed. Will they?
“We must go and hunt the rogue caltronian,” Genesis said to her in an urgent undertone. “Eden I trust you will take care of our people.”
She nodded, almost numb to the guilt and pain created by his blind trust. “Of course.”
The men strode to their cercannes and swung a leg over the seat’s, adjusting and checking their gun-like weapons even as Eden turned and gestured for the remaining women and children to follow her to Genesis’ donya.
