Trouble In Mind (Interstellar Rescue Series Book 2)

by Donna S. Frelick

Ardis did what she could to show the proper respect with her aura and her body language.

  The First General nodded to her. Then she turned to the Thranes holding her. Idiots! Release her! Her colors warmed. I apologize for their . . . ardor . . . Director Second Ardis. They were instructed to ensure your safety during our operation.

  Ardis threw a tight net of control over her burgeoning emotions. She allowed her aura to drift back toward its neutral lavender, though she left it streaked with the colors of fear, curiosity, and a more than healthy respect for the First General. Of course, Director Prime. I admit I was rather . . . taken aback. May I ask what operation I was unwittingly a part of?

  The woman who had practically built the security ministry from the mud up showed an aura full of sunny indulgence. Ardis had heard she had a sense of humor.

  Our intelligence has led us to believe human operatives have been meeting here at the Venue for some time to exchange information and so on. We have been following this man for several solar cycles. We believe he made contact with someone here tonight to receive sensitive information from inside the government.

  No! Ardis made certain her aura reflected her shock. Were you also able to catch his contact?

  The First General’s aura darkened with smug certainty. That information will be forthcoming. Never fear.

  Ardis inclined her head and deepened her aura with the magenta of respect. She studied the crumpled figure of the human awaiting the final attention of the Thranes. He lifted his head a fraction to glance at her. She met his eyes for a tiny slice of time and looked away. No one noticed. But Ardis knew. They would learn nothing from this man. He would be dead before they returned to the CMS headquarters less than a kilometer from the Venue. He had been trained to break open a blister inserted in his skin and release a deadly poison in the event he was taken. From the look he had given her, he had already done his duty.

  Her life—and the conspiracy—were safe.

  Navajo Nation Indian Reservation, Arizona, Earth, Sector Three

  Dancers followed the drums in a circle of dusty ground a short walk from Geneva Twohawks’s compound. The drumming and dancing had been going on for hours. The fire burned high as the singers shuffled and stamped in the proscribed movements, calling on the Yei and the ancestors, asking their help in the coming battle. Asia had long since stopped asking anyone to explain the songs or the movements of the dances. As Geneva had put it, they were covering all the bases, using all the most powerful songs from the deepest ceremonies to ensure they had the Old Ones’ attention.

  Off to the side, two rounded huts, the traditional hogans of the Navajo people, had been prepared as sweat lodges for the purification ceremonies set to begin at dawn. Geneva had told Asia that even she and Jack would be expected to participate. Asia couldn’t help a shiver of apprehension as she considered what was to come. Here, under a sky full of familiar stars, among people who only wanted to help her, she felt lost, alone. The power all around her, even the power inside her, was so alien, so far beyond human. Even Jack, so small and warm in her arms, could not give her the comfort she craved.

  She needed Ethan.

  Asia let her mind go. She let her being dissolve in the rhythm of the drums and the rise and fall of the voices of the singing. She closed her eyes and sank into herself. She reached out. And like a miracle, she found him.

  Jesus! Asia? My God. The wave of emotion that came through the link from him was like opening a door onto the desert heat—love and longing and relief and lingering fear, a fear that had ground him down, hour after hour, until he was close to madness. The question flitted through his mind: how had she reached him after all this time? But just as quickly, it was dismissed. It wasn’t important.

  Where are you? Tell me you’re okay. Tell me Jack’s okay.

  Yes, I’m okay, baby, really. And so is Jack. We’re fine. She tried to project calm and a sense of well being, but guilt and the dark knowledge of what they faced welled up inside her and threatened to break through. We’re safe. We escaped the kidnappers, and we found help. We just . . . we can’t get to a phone. We’re in the middle of the desert.

  She sensed his confusion, his desperation. Where? Tell me where. We’ll come and get you. Gabriel and Lana are not far. They’re looking for you.

  Asia felt her way through the link. Lana was the FBI agent on the case. But Gabriel . . . Gabriel was something more. Hope flared in her chest. Sam and Rayna brought this Gabriel in? Why didn’t you tell me?

  Ethan’s mind projected the sardonic uptick of his mouth so well she could almost see it. As I recall our only conversation so far was in the middle of an orgasm. Not that I’m complaining. Just leaves little time for details.

  Details like how we’re accomplishing this, you mean? In truth, she didn’t know. Maybe her contact with Jack, maybe just the sound of the drums, the smell of the wood smoke riding the desert night. If you were here with me it wouldn’t seem so strange. The Navajo people I’m with seem to be operating on a different plane.

  Navajos? Are you on a reservation? Tell me where you are, Asia. Gabriel can be there within hours. God, I can’t wait to have you back.

  She wanted to tell him. Her heart ached and her body shook with the desire to tell him and end this. To go home, to be with him. To feel him holding her, kissing her, loving her. But she knew she couldn’t have any of those things. Not yet. Here, with Geneva and her people, she had worked out a strategy. They had weapons they could use against an enemy they understood. Ethan loved her, he loved Jack, but he was only flesh and bone. He had no weapons to fight the battle they were facing.

  The man Sam and Rayna had brought in, however . . . This man Gabriel—does he know what hunts us? Can he fight them?

  Confusion. Killing rage. Dread so dark it matched her own. She monitored the emotions sweeping through Ethan’s mind as he tried to make sense of her question and knew right away she had made a terrible mistake.

  You’re trying to hide something, Asia, I can feel it. What’s going on that I don’t know about?

  He didn’t know about the brothers. Damn it to hell! She fought to order her thoughts, to keep the truth from him.

  Ethan, Jack’s become so powerful, so withdrawn. They were going to kill him and he . . . She gave up trying to explain verbally and sent an image of what had happened in the desert and the emotions she had experienced at the time—her fear, her relief, her compassion for her son.

  She sensed Ethan’s shock at what he’d seen. Jesus. It must have been terrible for him. He’s withdrawn again, hasn’t he?

  --Geneva Twohawks, the Navajo elder we’re staying with, says he’s hiding in the Spirit World. He’s like he was when he first came to us.

  --You have to come home, Asia. I can help Jack here.

  She took a breath, readying herself for the battle to come. I can’t. Not yet. And you can’t help Jack this time. The people I’m with know better what we’re facing. They know how to fight it.

  She was tired now, and her head ached like a bitch, but Ethan wouldn’t let her go. You and Jack need to be home where the people who love you can take care of you. Damn it, Asia! What is it you think you’re fighting? Waves of agonized longing came at her through the link. What aren’t you telling me?

  She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but her control over her thoughts was not complete. Now it seemed no matter what she did, Ethan would suffer.

  --Who are they, Asia? Immovable demand joined the hurt in Ethan’s presence in her mind. You’re not hiding from the Men in Black anymore. What are you running from?

  She exhaled. Two brothers. Aliens. They want Jack. The Navajo elders have told me they’ll use him to start some sort of galactic apocalypse. She rubbed at her throbbing temples. I know how crazy it sounds.

  She could read Ethan’s weary acceptance in his thoughts. Two years ago, yes, I would have signed the committal papers without a second thought. Now nothing surprises me. But if these brothers are aliens, then Sam and Ray would have the
technology to defeat them. Gabriel is in place to help you. Let him bring you home where we can protect you. If we have to we’ll go up to the ship. We’ll relocate. Whatever it takes.

  Frustration made her want to jump to her feet and pace, when she could only sit on the hard ground with her eyes closed and act as if she was in peaceful meditation. That’s just the problem. This fight won’t happen with guns or lasers or even ships in space. In ways I can’t even begin to grasp, it’s going to take place in a world we can only reach with our minds. The Navajos understand this. If I stay here, we have a chance of defeating the brothers on their own terms—in the Spirit World, with Jack’s power. If I leave, we have no defense.

  Ethan had reached his limit. Asia, none of this makes sense. Just come home to me.

  She let him feel her sadness, her guilt—and her determination. I can’t come home until this is over. I can’t risk your life, too. It will all be over in a couple of days. We’ll be home then.

  --Asia! Don’t do this alone. You have to let me help you. Please.

  --Not this time, baby. I love you.

  And as she closed him off from her mind she felt his emotions wash over her—anguished, desperate love, stark fear, and, staining everything like blood, the dark pain of betrayal.

  Gabriel Cruz owed few people in the galaxy. Many people owed him—their lives, their freedom, their place in the way of things. Until today, only one or two—Sam Murphy for certain, his teacher had he lived—could have laid a claim on him. Now this woman—a tiny thing, really, though her heart was as big as the sun that warmed her planet—had yoked him with a debt he could never repay. She had saved his life. Not once, but twice in one day. She had drawn the everlasting wrath of an unstoppable, sadistic enemy to save him. And how had he repaid her?

  By taking her, hard, without preamble—and by the side of the road, for chrissake. What a perfect romantic he was! The one saving grace was that he had managed not to violate her mind again, though only by the fiercest application of will. And that couldn’t last long.

  Because the worst was yet to come.

  Gabriel recognized the signs. He wouldn’t be able to hold it back long. The T’haridon Set, the Forging Fire. He’d put the process in motion with his loss of control the first time. Their proximity, her innate talent, her shocking ability not only to appear at the scene of his battle with Kinnian but to affect its outcome, and finally this last foolish surrender to his desire for her had carried the process through its inevitable stages. And now the two of them would see its undeniable conclusion. The bond had already formed between them. It could not be consummated in fire as it had been for generations of his father’s people. So it would be broken in agony. To save her life if he could.

  His body, still inside hers, was already hard again. He’d never gone slack, and wouldn’t until he’d seen the mating time through. His feverish mind wanted to replay the scenes of their lovemaking, wanted to show him her glowing skin, the soft, firm globes of her breasts under his palms, the indescribable joy in her face as she came for him. He gritted his teeth and thought instead of the disciplinary cell at the Academy on Thrane—its cold, dank walls, its earthen floor, the smell of . . .

  “Gabriel, you’re cold, baby.” She rubbed at the skin of his arms. “You’ve got goosebumps all of a sudden.” She sat up, and he slipped out of her, now only semi-hard. “Come on. We should get back on the road.”

  He gathered her into his arms again, if just for a moment, and brushed a lingering tear from her cheek. “Are you all right?”

  She smiled at him, a shy little smile that lit up her green eyes. “More than all right.” Her eyes dropped to his throat and widened in horror. “Jesus Christ, Gabriel!”

  His brows came together in confusion for a second. But as her eyes and hands scanned his body in rising concern, he realized what was happening.

  “What the hell?” She ran her fingers over an angry red streak slashing across his ribs. “Tell me this isn’t from your fight with Kinnian!”

  “Do you want me to lie?”

  She looked at him. “How?”

  He shrugged. “A doctor would define it as psychosomatic injury.”

  “Like hell! Those are real bruises on your throat where he choked you! Fresh scars on your ribs and your thigh where I saw him cut you with the sword! They look like they hurt like a sonofabitch!”

  His mouth quirked upward. “They do.”

  Her eyes glittered with feral light. “I saw Kinnian hit the water. Will his injuries be real?”

  “His training would have spared him the worst of it, but yes. He’s likely in a regen tank right now.”

  “Good.” Her voice was a growl.

  “Targa.” Heat flared in his chest that had nothing to do with his desire for the little wildcat. “Did I mention they never leave a rival alive? It is always a fight to the death for them.”

  She grunted as she scrambled into the driver’s seat and wriggled into her clothes. “Makes perfect sense.” She glanced at the clock on the dash then craned her neck to check the scudding clouds outside the windshield. “Damn it. By the time we get to Mrs. Twohawks’s it’ll be way past dark. We’re likely to get ourselves shot.” She sounded exhausted.

  The trip to the old woman’s was out of the question now. He couldn’t be around others for at least 24 hours, possibly longer. It was too far to go back to Winslow; he’d be deep in the fever long before they got there, and the vehicle was too confined a space.

  But there was an alternative. “Change in plan.”

  She looked up from tying her boot, one eyebrow lifted.

  “We’ve had enough excitement for one afternoon. How about we call it a day?” He stretched carefully. “We could stay over somewhere, go on to the old lady’s tomorrow.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something? Asia and Jack are out there with nothing but an old woman and her shotgun to keep them out of a shitstorm.”

  “Asia and Jack are safe with Geneva Twohawks. I can feel it. No one knows they’re there. Kinnian tried, but he couldn’t get into my mind to access what I know, and he’ll be forced to rest now and regain his strength for a few hours. We should do the same.” The last sentence was a lie. Gabriel wouldn’t be resting, and neither would she, if he knew anything about Lana Matheson. He would have to fight her off to do what was necessary to save her.

  She studied him. He let her see a little of what he was beginning to feel—the fever rising, the minute tremors in his arms and legs.

  “Maybe you’re right.” She was fighting her own fatigue, he could see it. Her face had gone pale and tiny furrows had appeared between her eyes. “But we’re in the middle of nowhere. Where the hell do we hole up?”

  He pointed at a sign by the side of the road, swinging in the wind from the storm.

  She squinted to read it. “’Last Ranch B&B, ten miles ahead.’ Cute. Bet they have ruffles on the curtains, too.” She nodded once. “Okay, it’s a plan. At least I don’t have to drive back over that freaking mountain in this rain.”

  “No. I’ve had enough.” He opened his door and ran around to the driver’s side. “I’ll take it the rest of the way.”

  “My hero.” She sighed and slipped into the open seat.

  He adjusted the seat and the mirrors and pulled back out onto the road, grateful that she had agreed to go along. The rest of the evening would not be so simple.

  Though there were no other guests at the bed and breakfast, Gabriel asked for accommodation in the “Creekside Cabin.” The heat in Lana’s gaze as he registered them brought the blood in his veins to a slow boil, but he chose the isolated little cottage for reasons very different from those she assumed. Any screams tonight would be his and not those of ecstasy.

  He played his role to the hilt for the benefit of the inn’s owners. He made sure they knew he and Lana needed privacy, asking to have some sandwiches sent out to the cabin rather than having dinner in the main house. The innkeepers were happy to oblige. It wasn’t long bef
ore he and Lana were settled behind the locked door of their cabin for the night, supplied with anything a young couple might need for a romantic evening.

  Gabriel had used every last scrap of his strength accomplishing it. Now he stood trembling with chills under the steamy spray of the shower, his hands splayed over the tiles to support himself. A few minutes ago he’d been burning with fever; now he couldn’t seem to get warm enough. Waves of weakness washed through his body. He couldn’t trust his legs to hold him, his hands to grip the slightest weight.

  Only his cock was strong, full of life and blood, heavy and hard and aching. His whole body pulsed with his need; his mind buzzed and shrieked with it. From the few shreds of reason left to him he knew he was fighting an instinctual drive, the inborn compulsion to complete the mating bond. To join with Lana, body and soul, mind and spirit. To forge a union between them that only death could break.

  But she was human, damn it, not Thrane. She shouldn’t have to be bound by his alien biology, forced into a commitment she couldn’t possibly comprehend. And there was Kinnian. The moment the bond was complete, she would be fully revealed to him. It would be like throwing a kitten into a cage with a tiger.

  He shivered, though the water was like a fall of hot needles on his sensitive skin. If he denied himself long enough, if he controlled his body and his mind through the time of T’haridon Set, if he just endured, he might break the bond that had already formed between them. It was said to be possible, even for full-blooded Thranes. He was only half-Thrane. She was fully human. He had to make it work.

  Gabriel took a deep breath, exhaled in a long, shaky sigh. He reached out and turned off the water. His skin rose in goosebumps. He grabbed a towel and dried off. Took another and wrapped it around his hips, poorly concealing his erection, huge and rigid despite his perception of cold.

  Lana was busy laying the food out on a low table in front of the cabin’s glowing fireplace. She was turned away from him as he entered the room, her blond curls spilling down her back, her curves wrapped to entice in the thick robe provided by the inn.