Lana stirred in his arms, aware of him. He cursed himself for waking her. She made a little purring sound and moved to turn and face him, but he held her tighter.
“Shh. Try to sleep.”
“Sleep is not on your mind. Or mine. I want you.”
“It’s too soon, querida.” He said the words, but his body betrayed him. His hard length pulsed between them. He longed to bury himself deep inside her, to feel her slick and hot around him. He wanted to move with her until she screamed her satisfaction in his mind, until his own ran down her thighs.
Lana moaned and rotated in his embrace. “You can’t think like that and expect me to ignore it, Cubano.” She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. She was smiling, but he saw the evidence of the T’haridon Set on her body—the marks of his possession on her perfect skin, the beginnings of bruises where he had held her, fierce in his need, and she had pushed back, even wilder in hers. And through their link he could feel the raw soreness underlying the ache where her sex met his. She had no skills to hide the secrets of her mind from him. She was as throbbingly close to climax as he was, but to welcome him inside as she wanted to do would cause her pain.
Gabriel sat up and gathered her to him as he swung both legs over the side of the bed. Lana yelped and wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her to the bathroom.
“What the hell? Gabriel!”
He squatted by the oversized Jacuzzi tub and turned on the water. He continued to hold her in his lap as the tub filled, refusing to let her go, though she watched him in bemused silence.
After a moment he met her steady, green gaze. “I will never hurt you, Alana. Not even when you think it’s all right.”
He kissed her, a soft, tender slide of the lips at first, then a deeper, sweeping exploration of her sweet mouth as she urged him on with little hums of pleasure. At last he stepped into the steaming tub with her, settling them both into the soothing water. Then he let the water fill until they were both chest-deep in heaven. Gabriel hadn’t realized how great a toll the night had taken on him until his muscles began to unwind in the blessed heat.
“Now, my sweet bondmate, I am going to teach you one of the great pleasures of sharing a bond as we do.” He stroked her arm as he said it, delighting in the way her nipples peaked to attention with even so innocent a touch. “For us, sexual pleasure doesn’t have to require pain, or effort, or even touch. We can share pleasure as fantasy in the bond, in our minds. Here, or even if we were separated by endless kilometers.”
Lana turned to look up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Fantasy? Are you bored with me already?”
“Never, querida. It’s a matter of simple practicality. I won’t hurt you, but the T’haridon Set hasn’t yet run its course. For either of us.”
She sighed. “You have a point. I ache all over. And I still want you.”
“So. Show me a fantasy. Let’s play together.”
Laughter shook her. “Oh, my God. And I was worried about my childhood secrets.”
He smiled behind her head, where she couldn’t see him. “Would it be easier if I chose one for you? How about the two cowboys? That seems to be your favorite.”
“Jesus, Gabriel! No! Well, not for the first time, anyway.” Her whole body was flushing red, but she was intrigued. Her thoughts ricocheted for a moment, then coalesced and focused.
Ah! Yes. Your office! He slipped into his role at once: a dangerous man with criminal ties and something you need. A forbidden liaison, a semi-public place, coming together in a blaze of uncontrollable lust…
. . . Lana opened her eyes. She still lay in the heated water of the bath, Gabriel’s arms wrapped around her, the steam rising to fill the room. Yet her pulse pounded, her core, drenched with the proof of her arousal, throbbed with the last throes of her orgasm. Gabriel’s warm hand still cupped her mound, but she didn’t think he’d physically stimulated her to climax. As he’d promised, the fantasy had been sufficient.
“My God.” She could barely find enough energy to speak.
He kissed her just below her ear. “Oh, yes. A very, very nice choice, mi amor. You are extraordinarily talented both in this world and in the mindfield. So talented, in fact, I think we may have burned through the Forging Fire at last. How do you feel now?”
“Warm. Satisfied.” She sighed. “Like I could curl up next to you and sleep for a week.”
A murmur of agreement rumbled through his chest. “But I think we’ll have to settle for a couple of hours and make up the difference with food. I feel like I could eat an entire psoros.”
She thought for a moment and captured the image of a shaggy, four-legged ruminant running a grassy plain, then a carcass being roasted over an open fire. She could even taste the smoky, heavy flavor of the meat. Her stomach growled.
“I think I agree. Sleep first or eat first?”
“Better sleep first. We can’t afford to be out long. Our hunger will wake us.”
She was nearly asleep already in the warm comfort of his arms and the hot water. “We should get in the bed.”
“Mmm. In a moment.”
--So how does this thing work, Gabriel? Her heart sped up as she opened herself to the presence she felt in her mind. It had seemed so effortless in the heat of passion; now she was suddenly shy. Will you always be . . . here like this?
His warmth filled her, reassured her. Your thoughts are your own, Lana; you’ll learn to communicate what you want, to keep what you want to yourself. You know I won’t violate your privacy. The link is strongest at the level of emotion. Can you feel it?
The connection between them was like a live wire, humming with vital energy. Love flooded her heart.
--I feel it, k’taam. K’taam. That’s the proper word, isn’t it?
Gabriel smiled. Yes. The word “beloved” is often used between bondmates. It must have been on my mind.
He sat up and turned her to face him. “There’s something else in your heart, k’taama. Let me answer that question so there can be no mistake. We may have no paperwork to show we are married, but we are joined forever. No matter where we are, we will always be aware of each other. You belong to me and I to you in a way no human marriage vows could ever enforce. And I’m sorry you had no choice in this.”
Lana lifted a hand to stroke his cheek. “If I had been given all the time in the world to think about it, I would have made the same choice. We belong together. And I thank God for the bond that will keep us together, no matter what. Something tells me we’re going to need it.”
Trin, Center for Adminstrative Control, Minertsa, Sector 10
Sennik sat at the center of an aura the color of his planet’s primeval mud and struggled to keep the blood red of murder from leaking out and revealing his innermost thoughts. This meeting was not going well.
--I tell you we are losing momentum, and with it the strategic advantage we held just ten solar cycles ago. General Zipriss of the Ministry of Defense showed an aura black with rage and shot through with heavy, bilious greens. He felt he was being betrayed. We must move to secure what gains we have made.
--If we move too fast, we risk exposure before we are ready. Sennik injected calming lavender into his aura. The plan is on schedule, never fear.
--The plan! That’s all we ever hear from you, Sennik. And yet, we are never privy to any details. Director Prime Larrik of the Ministry of Mines and Natural Resources had long been an ally, but he was no fool. And his neutral aura of silver-gray was unreadable. Were you aware that Vadis had set up a partnership in secret with a group of investors outside his immediate family? The factory on Paridius is almost ready to begin production.
Auras around the table went dark with shock and consternation. Even Sennik was unable to control his reaction.
Agriculture’s Rhondis was bright red with anger. Those mrill-fucked abolitionists are behind this, as sure as I am born of mud. They are everywhere!
--Do we know who is behind the investment, Larrik? Sennik would cut their
throats personally.
Larrik lifted a hand in indifference. It may be as Rhondis says. But there are also many of our own fine citizens who wish to see a change in the way of things and believe there may be profit in it as well.
The General’s aura went as dark as a thundercloud. Would that include you, Larrik?
The Director Prime of Mines allowed the slightest tinge of red to darken his silver aura. The labor requirements of my department are the most demanding of any in the government, General. They cannot be met by any means other than forced human labor, no matter what my personal wishes or beliefs may be. The Minertsan Consortium cannot survive without slavery.
--Indeed. And isn’t that why we are all here? The deep, royal blue of loyalty and patriotism bled into Sennik’s aura. I can assure you all that the plan we have agreed upon is proceeding on schedule. We have planted the seeds of discontent. Soon we will reap the benefits of chaos. Continue your work as you have always done. Prepare for the future. The new cycle will turn upon our vision of a new Empire.
When the others had filed from his office, he wasted no time taking the necessary steps to ensure his promises had something of substance behind them. Ardis. Connect me with Mezin Xe on Savagne. His private code.
His aide was as efficient as ever, but Sennik resented the time spent waiting for the connection to be made. He resented having to take this action at all, for it meant that his elegant plot was in need of reinforcement and repair. His Thranes had failed him, still mucking about on Earth somewhere in search of the boy that was the key to his plan. He could not afford to wait while they scoured the cursed planet for the child. Zipriss was right. They were in danger of losing momentum. Sennik had to use his backup plan.
--Director Prime, Board Chairman Xe is in the comm window for you now, sir.
Sennik looked up and activated the window in his field of vision to display the elongated head and neck, the green skin and vertical irises of the Savagnoir, director of one of the galaxy’s wealthiest commercial conglomerates. The exploitation of raw resources on primitive planets, the manufacture of weapons and entertainment technology, cutting edge research into genetic manipulation and chemical transmutation, even the simple transportation of goods throughout the galaxy—everything was XEX’s business. And if it was not, and it was profitable, then XEX’s chairman very quickly made it his business.
A slurry of sibilance was translated in Sennik’s mind. I’ve been expecting your call.
--Chairman Xe. It seems I will have need of the backup unit to the one that was destroyed on Del Origa.
--I anticipated that. Work began on a second transmitter as soon as the first one was destroyed.
Sennik felt a small thrill of hope. Your reputation for efficiency is well deserved.
--Perhaps. But there has been an unforeseen obstacle to progress. It has entailed some delay.
--What sort of obstacle and how long a delay? The Director Prime did not bother to couch his inquiry in polite terms. He was under too much pressure of his own.
--Both of a minor nature, I assure you.
Damn these other-worlders! No auras to read, no inferences to be drawn through the layers of translation. Sennik could tell nothing from the words he heard in his mind.
--What has happened, Chairman Xe? I must insist that you be specific.
The Savagnoir dipped his head twice, the equivalent of a shrug. The human engineer that built the unit is no longer in my . . . employ. His expertise has been difficult to replace.
--But surely not impossible?
--Not impossible, no. But it will take time to complete your transmitter to its original specifications.
Sennik seethed, his aura the color of untracked space. How long?
A long hiss sounded through the audio pickup as thin membranes slid down to cover Xe’s yellow eyes. A better question might be how much, my friend.
--You would hold me hostage to your profit now?
--Think of your own gain, Director Prime. My commission is but a small part of what you stand to take in this. I believe the humans have a saying: Time is money.
Red, vivid as a wound, shot through the black of his aura. I need this unit now, Xe.
--I can have it to you by the end of this lunar cycle if the price is right.
Fucking pirate! Name it and I will send you the credits by transfer.
Xe’s hiss of satisfaction needed no translation.
Ardis backed out of the translation program as efficiently as she had tapped in. No trace of her intrusion remained behind; neither Sennik nor Xe would ever know she’d been listening. And when the Director Prime swept past her on his way out of the building, her aura shone a bland lavender and violet, tinged with the bright blue of sexual interest she was required to show him now at all times.
She was pleased to note Sennik’s own aura was tinged a sickly yellow, despite his best efforts to maintain his neutral silver-gray. He was disturbed by his meeting and his conversation with Xe. Still, the Director Prime would have what he wanted in less than three solar cycles, though the negotiation made it clear he’d paid more than he’d planned.
She’d read the specs. The sophisticated communications networking device would take over the functions the boy, ID 425907, had been programmed to serve, coordinating signals to the human slaves Sennik had in place throughout the galaxy. Using the device risked exposure, where the boy would have been untraceable. But having the transmitter gave Sennik one advantage—it would allow him to begin his campaign of destabilization without further delay.
She had to do something. It was no longer possible for anyone else to save the situation. There was no time to develop an elaborate plan or hope for intervention. Only Ardis was close enough to Sennik to stop him. She knew what Slindar would have done.
Xe had mentioned a human engineer—the one who had developed the transmitter. Recently such a man had famously escaped XEX control on Savagne. It was said the same shadowy organization that sent humans to meet her in the dark at the Lorenda Venue had engineered his escape. If that was true, then she had a way to contact him. And if she could only have enough time, she might have a way to sabotage the transmitter and put a stop to Sennik’s plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Navajo Nation Indian Reservation, Arizona, Earth, Sector Three
Asia had entered the sweat lodge with a breaking heart. Oh, she had covered the hurt with anger, but Geneva and the other elders had seen through it and treated her with firm, but tender, care. Jack could not be with her, they’d explained with infinite patience. He would be with the men in the other hogan. She would spend the day undergoing purification in the women’s lodge. It did no good to protest that he was only a boy, years from puberty and a man’s obligations. Despite his youth, Jack was at the center of all their preparation.
At least Jack had seemed to understand. He hadn’t been afraid to leave her. She had hid her tears from him, but now she struggled to hold them back in the dark and heat of the sweat lodge. Packed shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, with Geneva and the other women of the tribe, dressed only in a towel, Asia felt isolated, alone, as she had for days. This was not her world; this was not a world she understood. But Geneva Twohawks had said what they did here would save her son, so she would do what had to be done.
At the center of the hogan, heat emanated from the pit of red-hot rock, forcing the sweat from Asia’s pores, searing the air that she breathed, prickling her scalp and stinging her eyes. She let the heat wash over her and through her, let it infuse the singing and the drumming until they became one thing and pushed out the thought that threatened to strip her of all her courage. Thought was her enemy. She had no use for it if it couldn’t help her defend her son. As words drained from her mind and left her empty of thought, sweat drained from her body and left her empty of poison. Agitation drained from her heart and left her empty of fear. Toward the end, even her soul seemed to drain away, until her awareness drifted and was caught in the web of another place
and time.
Outside the lake house the rain swept through the trees, whipped by a wind that held the cold promise of winter. But a brave fire was crackling in the huge hearth, and Ethan’s arms were warm around her, his voice soft and reassuring in her ear.
“They can’t have been human to hurt you like they did.” His hand stroked her hair. “My Asia, my sweet, beautiful Asia.”
A night, almost two years ago, a memory she had sworn no one would ever take from her mind. She had known by that time that the alien Grays had taken her, but the larger picture had yet to be revealed. She had been battered and confused, on the run and recovering from a loss that had taken her to the crumbling edge of a pit of self-destruction. Ethan had been there to pull her back and to hold her in the firelight as afternoon turned to darkest night, whispering her name.
She sat up. “Ethan?”
He smiled. “I’m right here.”
“But you’re not real.” She looked around. Every detail was the same, more vivid than any dream. The soft glow of firelight on the pine paneling. The smell of wood smoke. The moan of the wind outside. “None of this is real.”
“It’s as real as you need it to be.” He touched her cheek, demanding her attention. “And so am I.”
Guilt and sorrow coiled around her heart. The last thing she’d wanted was to hurt him. “Ethan, I’m so sorry. You know I have—“
He raised a finger to her lips, silencing her. “We don’t have much time. I don’t want to argue.”
She stared into his eyes, eyes the color of deep Northern oceans, and suddenly knew why she was here. Not to explain herself or justify her actions or convince Ethan to let her go, but to say the things she might not have a chance to say to him ever again.
She took his hands in hers. “You brought me back from a very dark place, Ethan Roberts. And every day you give me new reasons to be grateful for that. I love you. Never forget that.”
Trouble In Mind (Interstellar Rescue Series Book 2) Page 30
