by Ivy Barrett
“Are we being arrested?” Karla’s tone was shaky and uncertain.
“We’ve done nothing wrong,” Lorelle stressed. “Why would they arrest us?”
“Did he kill those men?”
“I’m pretty sure they were just stunned.” She had no idea why Karla would care one way or the other. In Lorelle’s opinion, the guards’ only value was the information they might have possessed. She’d hardly glanced at the fallen men after the shifter blasted them.
“Are you their leader?” the blond man asked, amusement sparkling in his gaze.
“I was just unfortunate enough to speak Standard,” she explained.
The shifter’s mouth curved in a subtle smile, but he didn’t say a word.
The ship shuddered then banked sharply as they left the rooftop.
“Are the others being rescued as well?” They’d only been airborne a few moments when Lorelle lost the battle with her curiosity. “How did you know where to find us? Why were you looking? What planet is this and why were we taken from Earth?”
The blond swiveled to face her, flashing another breath-stealing smile. “I’m Sean Wylie, that’s Commander Adoha, and this should answer the rest of your questions.” He motioned toward the display across from them and Doctor Andrea Raynier’s image came on screen.
“I’m sorry I can’t be there in person to explain this,” Andrea began, “but rest assured you’re in capable hands.”
The captives had realized Andrea was their common tie shortly after they were taken from Earth. Each had been a patient of Dr. Raynier’s. Most had been treated for some form of infertility. Was Andrea responsible for their abduction or had she been abducted too?
Easily anticipating the question, Andrea’s message went on. “I was abducted by the people of this star system. Our information is rather sketchy. We’re not sure if you were abducted or if you volunteered for some fictitious scientific program. Regardless, we’re certain you didn’t intend to be shot out of the sky.”
“Why isn’t this interactive?” Lorelle asked, and Sean paused the message.
“An interactive transmission, regardless of how well it’s encrypted, could reveal your location. Until all the captives have been recovered we’re not taking any chances.” He reactivated the vidscreen.
“Three factions are at war and we’re caught right in the middle. The Protarians are the bad guys. We’re pretty sure they’re behind your abduction. The Stilox rebels have recently joined forces with the Mutant Underground.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “And then there’s Max. He’s one of the mutants, but he turned against the Underground. He’s the one who shot down your ship and has been holding you captive.”
A soft, masculine chuckle sounded somewhere beyond the transceiver’s range. “Focus, kitten,” the man said in Standard. “Don’t try and explain everything that’s happened, just tell them what they need to know right now.”
Kitten? Lorelle tensed at the endearment. Had Andrea been seduced by one of these off-worlders? Were females intentionally infected so they could be more easily controlled? It wasn’t the first time the possibility had crossed her mind.
“They need to know the truth.” Andrea’s gaze connected with the unseen man and obvious affection glowed in her expression. “I owe them that much at least.” She shifted her attention back to the transmitter and continued in Earthish. “The Protarians used a biological weapon against the people of Stilox. The virus killed millions, as the Protarians intended, but the survivors developed a wide range of mutations. If you’re hearing this message, you’ve encountered people with these mutations. We have a counteragent for the biological weapon. It restores the person’s health. Unfortunately, it doesn’t reverse the mutations.”
“Hold on,” Lorelle interrupted again. “Is this weapon what’s making us sick? Can Andrea cure us?”
“Yes and yes,” Sean said. “A vaccine has been available for years. We have no idea why the Protarians didn’t inoculate you.”
“Obviously they wanted us to develop these mutations and the other delightful side effects,” Lorelle snapped, her pulse keeping time with her rising temper.
“The onset illness is extremely dangerous,” the shifter said, not bothering to turn around. “Why would they abduct you and bring you to another planet just to watch you die? It’s far more likely that Max screwed up their schedule when he shot down your ship. You’ll all be treated as soon as we reach our destination.”
“Treatment better not mean what it meant to the guards…” Lorelle felt the rapid rise and fall of her chest and knew she was breathing too fast. Heat bathed her skin like the midsummer sun, followed immediately by icy chill. Her teeth chattered and perspiration beaded on her brow. How much longer could she fight this?
Sean released his safety restraints and crossed the cabin. “How long have each of you been battling the symptoms?”
Lorelle quickly translated for the others.
“Karla has been sick the longest,” she told Sean. “She was already infected when I was kidnapped. I’m not sure about the others. As near as I can figure we’ve been on this planet fifteen days.”
“Are you the only one who hasn’t had sex since leaving Earth?” He touched her face and she jerked away.
“I’m fine.” His lightest touch sent prickly sensations dancing across her skin.
“Sure you are.” He returned to his seat and spoke to Mal Ton in a hushed, urgent tone. Anything they said in their native language couldn’t be good for her.
“Can you turn Andrea back on?” Lorelle desperately needed to think about anything other than the pressure building between her legs.
Sean reactivated the message, his worried gaze lingering on her face.
“Mal Ton is taking you to Fane.” The recorded image of Andrea came back to life. “At the moment, that’s the safest place for you. Fane is the leader of the Mutant Underground.”
Mal Ton must be the shifter. Sean had introduced him as commander something-or-other. Why was Andrea so familiar with these aliens?
“Max is fighting Fane for control of the Underground. The Protarians want to combine selected mutations with… with the alteration I made to your DNA. We’re not sure why Max shot down your ship. He might be negotiating with the Protarians or hoping to manipulate Fane. Both Max and the Protarians will fight like hell to get you back. But you don’t need to be afraid. Fane’s people will make sure nothing happens to you.” She paused for a friendly smile and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”
The screen went blank and Karla turned on Lorelle. “She kept saying ‘us’ and ‘we.’ Who is she aligned with, the Stilox or the Underground?”
“She said she’d altered our DNA,” one of the other captives pointed out. “What did she mean?”
Barely able to think past the pounding in her head, Lorelle forced her mind to focus. Was it possible she was the only one who had figured it out? “You honestly don’t know?”
Her question was met with a chorus of, “Know what?”
Looking at Karla, she asked, “How long ago did you participate in the RENA program?”
“Andrea transcribed my DNA for the second time nine years ago.”
Most people had some sort of cosmetic alteration performed at least once a year. If Lorelle’s security update hadn’t required a complete DNA profile, she might still be wondering why she looked so young.
“Andrea ran the second sequence on me eighteen years ago,” Lorelle admitted. “And according to my DNA profile, I haven’t aged a day in all that time.”
Chapter Two
Daniel Keller paused outside Cassie’s lab and smoothed down his hair. He adjusted the fall of his jacket, hoping the material hid his erection. All he had to do was think about her and blood filled his groin. The prospect of touching her, even brushing his hand against hers, left him achy and hot.
Only in his mind did
he dare call her Cassie. To the world she was Doctor Cassandra Myer, innovative nanobiologist and—more important—favorite daughter of Chancellor Howyn, the most powerful man on Protaria. Keller had known her since childhood. They’d attended the same academies and belonged to the same social circles. She’d married one of his closest friends, dashing Keller’s hopes of making her see him as more than an acquaintance.
Then the Stilox had killed her husband, leaving her alone if not emotionally available. Keller couldn’t stop thinking about her, imagining how life would have been if she had chosen him instead of Nicho.
He spent hours each night indulging his fantasies, picturing her there with him, or better yet, beneath him. She’d whisper his name and wrap her long legs around his waist as he sank into her wet pussy. His cock bucked at the thought and he stifled a groan. He had to stop doing this to himself. She wasn’t his to claim, no matter how many times he pictured them together.
He pressed his hand against the scanner, announcing his presence. Only those approved for entry could trigger the interrupt chime. Even then it was up to Doctor Myer whether or not to leave her work.
“Hi, Daniel,” Cassie’s voice revealed her surprise. She was the only one he knew who called him Daniel. Everyone else called him Keller or sir. “Father said you’d be off-world for at least a month.”
“Recent developments necessitated my return. May I come in? I hate talking to the wall.” He hated not seeing her velvet brown eyes and the enticing curve of her ass.
The door to the lab slid open and Keller walked in. The new facility was easily three times the size of the one it had replaced. Andrea Raynier was supposed to be working at Cassie’s side, paving the way for the fulfillment of all their ambitions. Instead the stubborn human had empowered the Stilox rabble with far more than they were meant to know.
“What can I do for you?”
Now there was a question he’d love to answer honestly. Kneel in front of me and suck me until I’m about ready to die then bend over the counter and let me fuck you up the ass. How he loved that round little ass. It was such a contrast to her lush breasts and tiny waist.
He forced away the inappropriate thoughts and cleared his throat. “How do you like the new facility? Are you all settled in?”
“The new project Father assigned me is so complex I’ve hardly noticed the change.” She rubbed the nape of her neck and strolled toward him. His pulse accelerated with each step she took. “Surely you didn’t subject yourself to all this security just to ask how I liked the new lab.”
He heaved an audible sigh and prepared himself for the performance of a lifetime. His black-market sources had failed him utterly and Cassie was the only one he knew who wasn’t intimidated by the chancellor.
“There’s been another outbreak in Old Towne. I promised I’d provide the treatment before it gets completely out of control—again.”
“Why do they allow this to happen? All anyone has to do to be treated is register with—”
“They’re suspicious and I don’t blame them. People with mutations are treated like pariahs or they’re manipulated and exploited. Believe me, I know.”
Her gaze narrowed and she slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “You worked for my father long before your abilities manifested. It wasn’t like he recruited you because of your mutation.”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about a group of children who are struggling for their lives. We both know your father would rather pretend Old Towne is really abandoned, but I don’t have that luxury. Grab a box of the counteragent off the shelf and I’ll be on my way.”
“There are other sources for the treatment. Why involve me?”
“Anyone I send to seek out one of those other sources is going to report back to your father and I sure as hell can’t approach them myself. Who would be stupid enough to sell contraband to Chancellor Howyn’s pet mutant?”
She glanced at the drug locker, her expression tense and conflicted. One more push and he’d have her.
“Everything in this lab is inventoried. How do I explain—”
“Synthesize a new batch,” Keller suggested before she could change her mind. “All you’ll have to do is delete the log entry. No one needs to know.”
“Give me a couple hours,” she relented with a sigh. “I’ll have the package sent to you. Do not come back here. He might be my father, but that’s not the advantage most people think.”
* * *
Mal Ton set the ship down on a vacant lot a short time later. After modulating the external shield to make the ship appear derelict, he powered down the other systems. Lorelle’s fierce expression lingered in his mind as his fingers flew over the control consol. He’d shoved his way into the room and she’d faced him down, her defiance blasting his empathic receptors. Her spirit intrigued him even more than her lovely features and pleasing form.
“Commander,” Sean said sharply in Stilox. “Look at her eyes. She’s turning feral.”
Lorelle slumped against the bulkhead, the women on either side struggling to keep her upright. She tossed her head and panted fast and shallow. Her eyes glowed, the vibrant purple shocking against her pale skin.
Once a victim turned feral, there was no help for them. They evolved into creatures so savage and animalistic soldiers agreed to kill each other rather than endure the transformation.
Mal Ton rushed to the passenger cabin, fear twisting through his chest. Releasing her restraints with a clatter, he swept her into his arms and activated the hatch with a well-placed kick. Her body emanated heat. Fire, frenzy, insatiable desire. As long as her symptoms progressed no further there was hope.
“Secure the ship and see to the others. This can’t wait.” Mal Ton ignored the women’s concern and leapt to the ground, not waiting for the ramp to extend.
He hurried down the alley toward the back door to Fane’s headquarters. Little of the Underground was actually underground. Fane had commandeered a series of abandoned buildings and connected them with passageways. Only the research facility was located beneath the city. All the other buildings were equipped with modulators similar to the one disguising the ship. Fane’s people moved from one hideout to the next with no rhyme or reason, leaving each building vacant for random periods of time.
A guard scanned open the door as soon as he recognized Mal Ton. Skirting the great hall, Mal Ton descended the spiral stairs leading to the lower levels. Ostan looked up from his vidscreen as Mal Ton burst into the clinic.
“She was exposed to the Protarian lentavirus approximately fifteen days ago.” He placed her on the examination table and the doctor hustled to his side to begin an assessment.
“She’s human?” Ostan asked as the scanner initialized.
“Yes.” Mal Ton reached beneath her, retrieved the pistol from the back of her pants, and set it on a nearby counter.
“Did she have sexual interaction with any of the Protarians?”
“No.”
Ostan gave her an injection then resumed his scan. “I presume she’s one of the test subjects Max intercepted.”
Mal Ton nodded, waiting for the doctor’s plan of action.
After administering another injection, Ostan rubbed his pointed chin. Though his health had been stabilized by the counteragent, his mutated DNA resulted in permanent changes to his appearance. His forehead was unusually broad and the sharp angle of his cheeks made his face triangular. Pearlescent and fair, his skin provided a stark contrast for his ink-black eyes.
“Well?” Mal Ton prompted impatiently. She’d draped her forearm over her face as they entered the clinic. Light sensitivity often accompanied the fever. She lay lax and unresponsive except for her rapid breathing.
“How badly do you want to save her?”
“Isn’t that your job?”
“Ethics prevent me from giving her what she needs. I can treat the fever and keep her from dehydrating, but…”
“Is she f
eral?” Mal Ton’s mouth dried up, making each word an effort. So many had succumbed to the Scourge down through the years. He’d thought himself numb to the sorrow.
“She’s close. There’s still a chance you can bring her through this.”
“A chance I can bring her through?”
Ostan narrowed his gaze on Mal Ton’s face. “You know more about this illness than anyone and that includes me.” Ostan handed him a cluster of injectors. “These will balance her electrolytes and keep her from lapsing into a coma. Keep her cool and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself. It will take at least forty-eight hours for the counteragent to completely bind the virus. Until then there’s nothing more I can do.”
Mal Ton scooped her up in his arms and strode from the clinic. Old resentments clawed their way to the surface. This war had cost him so much, so many lives, so many wasted years. And still it demanded more.
He glanced at the woman nestled against his chest. She stirred restlessly, rotating toward him and wrapping one of her arms around his neck. A heated pang swept from his throat to the pit of his stomach. He tightened his grip, pressing her more firmly against his thundering heart.
“Where are we?” she rasped.
“This is Fane’s headquarters. You’re safe now.”
She blinked repeatedly and raised her head. “Where’s Karla?”
“You lost consciousness on the ship.” Clasping Lorelle firmly in his arms, he took the stairs two at a time. He could feel desire gathering within her, seeping through the drug-induced calm. “The others are on their way to the clinic.”
“Where are you taking me?”
He didn’t bother with a reply. She’d figure it out soon enough and he wanted to be alone with her when she did. He reached the landing at the top of the stairs and rushed toward his bedroom. Slipping inside, he lowered her feet to the floor and triggered the lock with a mental command.
* * *
Lorelle twisted out of Mal Ton’s grasp and took a quick step backward. “This isn’t going to happen.” Her legs wobbled beneath her. The instability heightened the spinning in her head. She faintly remembered being in a clinic, bright lights and beeping scanners. “Take me back to the clinic.”
