Naura

by Ditter Kellen

  His gaze traveled down her ribcage to the slightly prominent abs of her stomach. His mouth went dry.

  She reached for the waistband of her pants and wriggled her hips as she attempted to tug them downward.

  Tony found his voice. “What are you doing?”

  A tiny wrinkle appeared between her brows. “You expect me to shower in my clothing?”

  “No,” he growled, keeping his gaze trained on her face, praying that his erection would calm down before she noticed it. “Do you strip in front of every man you meet?”

  She had the audacity to grin. “I am not sure how to respond as you are the only human man I have been alone with in a bathroom.”

  That pissed him off even more. He stepped in close, his nose nearly touching hers. “Do not ever disrobe in front of anyone else. Do I make myself clear?”

  A quick nod was the only evidence that she understood.

  He moved to slip around her, but her next words stopped him.

  “Why do you dislike me, Anthony Vaughn?”

  Tony lowered his head momentarily before meeting her gaze once again. “I do not dislike you, Naura. That would require feelings, and I don’t possess any.” He calmly exited the room, pulling the door closed after him.

  “Do not judge my sister by her actions,” Vaulcron announced from the room across the hall. “She has spent her life below the surface and has no knowledge of the ways of land walkers.”

  “And you do?” Tony shot back.

  “I do not know everything about the human way of life, yet I would not consider myself to be on the same naive level as my sister.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  * * * *

  Vice President William Pratt hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair before facing his wife, Jaqueline. “Something doesn’t sit well with all this, Jackie.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “The alien that’s responsible for the outbreak?” At her nod, he continued. “He’s not alone.”

  Her eyes grew huge, and a small gasp escaped her. “There is another one?”

  “More than one,” William admitted in a hushed voice. “It would seem that they are holding two of them at Eglin Air Force Base.”

  Jaqueline’s mouth fell open. “That makes three of those things, Bill. And God knows how many more may be out there. What if other aliens come in search of their missing? They could kill us in our sleep.”

  William skirted around his desk and pulled his wife into his arms. “No one is going to die, sweetheart. I promise.”

  “But how can you be so sure?” she cried against his shoulder. “When thousands have already died because of those things.”

  Pulling back to make eye contact with his wife, Bill decided to let her in on what he’d learned. “I’m going to tell you something that goes no further than this room.”

  She studied his solemn expression for several seconds before nodding. “I won’t say a word.”

  “The aliens are not solely responsible for the outbreak that’s sweeping across the land.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “Have a seat,” he coaxed, directing her into a nearby chair. “And I’ll explain.”

  He knelt in front of her and clasped her trembling hands. “The aliens carry a virus that can be deadly to the old and young alike, but the majority of our people would have been able to survive had the CDC not spliced the virus with one of their own, mutating it into this pandemic we are witnessing now.”

  The color drained from Jackie’s face. “We did this? Our own people?”

  “Yes. I’m sure it wasn’t meant to get out of control, but…there it is.”

  “Does the president know about this?”

  Bill nodded. “He’s the main one behind the cover-up.”

  “But why would he do such a thing?”

  “He was up for re-election…” He left his meaning hanging in the air.

  “Oh, Bill. All those innocent people.”

  “I know, love. And if it’s not contained soon, the virus will continue to mutate into something far worse than what we are seeing now.”

  She jumped to her feet, throwing her hands in the air. “How can it get any worse? And what of our daughter? Lily is just a year old, Bill. She would never survive an exposure.”

  “Go visit your mother in Maine. Get out of here for a while. At least until a vaccine can be found.”

  “You mean if a vaccine can be found.”

  “It will work out, Jackie… It has to.”

  Chapter Four

  Naura stepped from the shower and switched off the water the way Tony had shown her.

  The human hair-soap smelled delicious, as did the bodywash she’d found on a shelf attached to the shower wall.

  She decided she rather liked the land walkers’ inventions and would have one made for the bathhouse when she returned home.

  Her damp clothes lay in a heap on the floor where she’d stepped out of them. She picked them up and brought them to her nose.

  They smelled of salt water and something else she’d never noticed until that moment.

  With a wrinkle of her nose, she laid them on the side of the sink to brush her teeth and hair before wrapping the towel around her body to go in search of something clean to wear.

  Entering the room she’d been designated, Naura noticed an open closet off to the right of an oversized bed. She trailed over to plunder the closet’s contents.

  Her eyes lit up with joy as she sifted through the droves of colorful material hanging from strange-looking contraptions along a wooden bar.

  She plucked a garment free and held it up to her chest. There were no sleeves on the top, and small white laces were tied together above the shoulders.

  “You will do quite nicely,” she murmured aloud, slipping it over her head and wandering across the room to open a drawer on a giant wooden box perched against the wall. What had Abbie called it? Oh, yes. A dresser.

  Grabbing a pair of soft white short pants, she pulled them on and went in search of Tony. She found him sitting on a couch in front of the television, loading a handgun.

  He glanced up as she stopped in front of him. “You couldn’t find anything less revealing to wear?”

  Unsure of his meaning, she took a seat next to him and turned her attention to the woman speaking from the television.

  “Although no cure has been discovered,” the pretty blonde proclaimed, “we are told that a vaccine is still in the works and that the CDC is working around the clock to put an end to this madness. I’m Mallory Cahill. Stay tuned for more on the Incola Virus after a word from our sponsors.”

  Tears stung Naura’s eyes with the knowledge of the virus’s origin. She couldn’t help but feel responsible for the epidemic’s existence.

  “If you’re going to insist on blaming yourself, do it somewhere else besides in here. Your guilt is choking me.”

  Naura shook off her gloomy thoughts and watched as Tony pulled something from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.

  “What is it that you ingested?”

  “It’s gum.” He held up a small, clear container with even smaller white squares inside. He shook it once before extending it to her. “Hold out your hand.”

  Naura did as he commanded, marveling as the gum rolled onto her palm.

  “Don’t swallow it,” he advised, returning the container back to his pocket. “You’re supposed to chew it until the flavor is gone.”

  Placing the gum in her mouth, she hesitantly bit down, gasping as the flavor burst across her tongue and took her breath. “I have never had gum before,” she breathed, fanning her mouth with her hand.

  “Not all gum is alike. I prefer the icy flavor; it opens my sinuses and keeps me alert when needed.”

  He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “You better get some sleep. We are leaving at daylight to take you back to the beach.”

  “I’m not going back,” she stated, staring into his eyes, refusing to ba
ck down.

  He ran his palm over the length of his beard. “I am not going to be responsible for you getting yourself killed.”

  Naura studied his gray-streaked hair. “I am thirty years old in human terms, Anthony Vaughn. No one is held accountable for my actions but me.”

  He appeared surprised by her confession. “You’re thirty?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “What age are you?”

  “I’m forty-two going on sixty,” he replied in a sarcastic tone.

  “I do not understand.”

  “It’s a figure of speech. I’m forty-two.”

  “Why then is your hair gray with age?”

  A shadow passed through his eyes. He averted his gaze and went back to cleaning the handgun he held. “It’s probably hereditary. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

  She was hungry, Naura thought with a glance toward the kitchen. She’d consumed the land walker’s delicious food on several occasions since Abbie’s move to Aukrabah.

  After being raised on a diet of saltwater creatures, she found the humans’ cooked food had been a welcome treat. “Are there any of the crunchy circles with salt stuck to them?”

  Tony raised an eyebrow. “You mean potato chips?”

  “Yes. Potato chips. They are my favorite.” She bounded off the couch and made a beeline for the kitchen.

  “You should eat more than chips. The salt will dehydrate you,” Tony announced, entering the room behind her.

  Ignoring him, Naura grabbed up a bag of chips and rolled it in her hands in search of an opening.

  Tony stepped in close. “Here, let me.” His hand brushed against hers, sending goose bumps along her flesh.

  He plucked the bag from her grasp and pulled, opening the top to reveal the coveted chips.

  “Thank you,” Naura whispered, relishing the feel of him standing so close. He smelled of salt water and man.

  Food suddenly took a back seat to desire. She wanted him to touch her again, if only for a brief moment. “Tony?”

  He stilled, his hand hovering above hers. His breath tickled her cheek as he spoke. “You’re playing with fire, little girl.”

  “Is it so wrong for me to find you curious, Anthony Vaughn?”

  “Curiosity killed the cat,” he growled, spinning on his heel and leaving the room before she could ask him what cats had to do with anything.

  Naura stared down at her trembling hands in disappointment. Did Tony truly find her repulsive? Perhaps if she’d been born human instead of Bracadyte, he would show an interest in her.

  She glanced back toward the living room to see that he’d returned to the couch to clean his weapons once again.

  A vision of his dead wife passed through her mind. The woman had been lovely, with her blonde hair and tiny frame. The complete opposite of Naura.

  “Are you going to eat or just stare at it all night?” Tony questioned from the couch.

  Naura took a seat at the table with her bag of chips and closed off her mind to him for fear he would read her thoughts. She could never compete with Tony’s deceased wife, no matter how hard she tried.

  With a sigh of defeat, Naura did what Abbie would do in her situation… She ate.

  Chapter Five

  Hauke paced the length of his bedroom, ignoring Abbie’s attempt at calming him. “I will throw Naura in the dungeon when I get my hands on her.”

  “Keep your voice down. Arcanum is finally sleeping,” Abbie scolded in a soft tone.

  “I am sorry, soul of my soul, but I fear you do not understand the ramifications of such insolence. Father will punish her severely.”

  Abbie came around the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist, effectively stopping his pacing. “Then he must never find out.”

  Hauke pulled back enough to study his mate’s beautiful face. “How do you propose we prevent him from learning of her departure?”

  “You and I will go to Cuba to trade. We will leave word that Naura has gone with us.”

  “Have you lost your wits, my love? He is the king of Aukrabah, not merely my father. If he found out that we covered up her escape, he would be forced to punish us as well. And I would never allow you to be whipped.”

  Abbie softly smiled. “He is not going to have me whipped, Hauke. We have an understanding of sorts.”

  Hauke wasn’t so sure. “You underestimate his graciousness when it comes to you and Arcanum. The safety of the Bracadyte comes first. He must uphold our laws in everything, else Aukrabah will become weak and eventually fall.”

  “I understand, Hauke. But Naura is already gone. There is nothing we can do about that, aside from doing what we can to keep her absence hidden until she returns.”

  He pulled her to him and tucked her head beneath his chin. “What if she does not return?”

  “She will. She’s with Vaulcron and Uncle Tony. I trust them both with her life.”

  “It is not them that I do not trust, my mate. It is my sister. She does not understand the ways of the land walkers. Your uncle and my brother will have their hands full with rescuing Henry. Naura will be as much of a challenge as having Arcanum in tow.”

  Abbie sighed and snuggled closer against him. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “I am returning to the surface. Alone.”

  “What?” Abbie pulled free of his embrace and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not without me.”

  “Our son needs you, Abbie.”

  “And we both need you, Hauke. You said we would never be separated again. What if something happens to you up there?”

  His resolve slipped with the fear in her eyes. “I will give them two moons to return with your father. If they are not back by then, I am going after them.”

  “But— ”

  “I will not budge on this.”

  “We’ll see,” Abbie mumbled as she moved to step around him. “I must check on Arcanum.”

  Hauke watched her go with a heavy heart. He hated any form of discord when it came to Abbie. But there was far too much danger on the surface to take her with him. He couldn’t— No, he wouldn’t risk her life ever again.

  * * * *

  Harold Newman entered Winchester Industries, barely sparing a glance at the guard sitting behind a desk near the front entrance. “Willie,” he murmured with a nod on his way to the elevator.

  “Mr. Winchester, sir,” Willie called out to Harold’s retreating back.

  The elevator opened with a ding, and Harold quickly stepped inside, watching as Willie’s face disappeared with the closing of the doors.

  It wasn’t that Harold didn’t like the guard. On the contrary. Willie just talked a bit too much for Harold’s liking. Ninety percent of the gossip that floated throughout the lab seemed to stem from the overly jolly guard.

  The elevator came to a stop on the third floor, and Newman strode off toward his corner office.

  He stopped next to his secretary’s desk and cleared his throat. “Hi, Sally. I have an interview in a few minutes with Mallory Cahill. Please see that we’re not disturbed.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sally responded with a smile. “Your wife called earlier. She wants you to pick up the dry cleaning on your way home this evening.”

  “Thanks, Sally.” Unlocking his office door, he breezed inside and set his briefcase on the floor next to his desk.

  Newman dreaded the interview with Cahill. She’d landed the nickname the Great White, due to her ability to always get the story. And most of those stories revolved around political scandals.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling the conversation he’d had with Glenn Anderson, the leader of the military group that had captured Hauke and Abbie, last year. “Do what most shark hunters do—dangle some bait beneath her nose until she’s hooked and then mount her head on your wall for all I care. Just keep her under control.”

  Keeping her under control, Newman guessed, would not be an easy feat to accomplish. He took a seat behind his desk.

  The light on
his phone lit up, pulling him out of his musings. He pressed the intercom button. “Yes, Sally?”

  “Mallory Cahill is here to see you.”

  “Send her in.”

  Harold stood as the door opened, admitting the beautiful reporter of every man’s nightmares.

  She wore a dark gray skirt that rested a few inches above her knees and a white button-down top that showed a hint of cleavage. Her blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her incredible blue eyes sparkled with determination as she stepped into the room.

  “Mr. Newman,” the reporter acknowledged, approaching his desk with her hand out.

  He accepted her outstretched palm. “Miss. Cahill. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, have a seat.”

  “Thank you.” She sat and crossed her shapely legs before pinning him with a serious stare. “Mind if we skip the formalities and cut to the chase? I have a meeting across town in less than an hour.”

  Oh, Harold could definitely understand how she’d earned her nickname. “Absolutely. What would you like to know?”

  “You were the one that took in the alien that was found on the beach, were you not?”

  Newman couldn’t help but be impressed with her straightforwardness, as unwelcome as it was. He reached beneath his desk to adjust his growing erection. “We stored it at the lab until a crew from Area 51 could arrive.”

  “But that didn’t happen.” She flipped open a small notepad. “An ex-employee of yours somehow managed to escape with the creature, leading the military on a nonproductive chase across the county, only to disappear and remain hidden for over a year. Does that about sum it up?”

  Harold shifted in his chair in an attempt to relieve the uncomfortable swell behind his zipper. “Somewhat,” he murmured, dropping his gaze to her full, pink lips.

  “Tell me about the virus,” she prompted. “How is it that it’s managed to spread through hundreds of communities, killing thousands, and yet this Abbigail Sutherland is unaffected?”

  That brought him out of his lustful thoughts. “We’re not sure how she’s immune while others aren’t. If we could locate her, I feel certain that we would uncover the answers that so many seek.”