by Patti O'Shea
None outside of the temple were aware of this, but there were defenses built into the structure to protect the priestesses from harm. Long ago, so long ago that the ink had nearly faded in the tome, there had been wars. In those troubled times, the enemy had attempted to capture the priestesses, violate them, and the women could not trust the City Guard with their protection.
Kendall suspected that era was directly responsible for the proscribed punishments they had for the violation of their laws. Defiling a priestess would cause Wyatt severe repercussions. He’d told her many times that if the worst happened, she should claim he’d forced her, but she would never do that. Although she knew it wouldn’t save him, she’d stand up and announce that she’d shared his bed willingly. Fortunately, they’d never been caught.
“Why?” he asked, raising himself to his elbows. “Why won’t you leave with me? Why do you love the temple more?”
“I don’t love the temp—”
“You do.” His face appeared grim. “Deny it all you wish, but it’s true. A light comes into your eyes when you speak of it. Perhaps you had no great desire to be a priestess, but in the seasons since you entered, it’s become important to you. I only wish you loved it less and me more.”
There was no heat in his voice, only resignation, and it cut Kendall to her soul. “I love you more than anyone or anything, never doubt it, but you know as well as I that running off isn’t as easy as you make it sound. If we left the city, we could never reenter. What of our families? Your mother is ill; could you bear to walk away now and never know what happened to her?”
Wyatt sat up, his forearms resting on his upraised knees. Kendall immediately moved to kneel at his side. “There are stories in our history,” she added quietly, “of the guards pursuing priestesses who’ve run off. There’s no guarantee that they wouldn’t track us, wouldn’t find us. Then what?” He shook his head, clearly not having an answer. “And what of our survival? Yes, the planet is full of fruit and vegetables we could eat, and no, there aren’t vicious animals, but you and I have never lived outside these walls. What of violent weather? What of accidents? I’m not a healer, and you can’t raise your hands and stop the wind. We could die out there.”
Studying her intently, he said, “Don’t you know that I would never allow anything to happen to you? I love you, Zolianna.”
*** *** ***
Kendall woke up abruptly, but this time she had the presence of mind to remain still and not alert Wyatt that she’d had a disturbing dream. She didn’t think he’d allow her to evade his questions a second time, and while she didn’t want to lie to him, no way was she telling him about it. Not when she kept putting him in the role of lover. And not when she swore she could still feel him deep inside her. Damn it, she was aroused, her body aching for an orgasm. Aching for Wyatt.
The urge to squirm, to rock her hips, to do something nearly overwhelmed her. Never before had she experienced a dream that left her this hot. Heaven help her, if he reached for her right now, she’d probably spread her legs and beg him to take her.
But as alarming as that was, it was the last words that echoed through her head. I love you, Zolianna.
She knew Wyatt hadn’t really said them, that it was a product of her subconscious, nothing more, but they skewered her. As much as she wanted to deny it, she was jealous. She shouldn’t be. Wyatt was her friend, and that’s all she wanted. Honestly.
Okay, she was lying to herself. She wanted him. There, she’d admitted it. But she was stronger than her urges. She had to be, because if she wasn’t, didn’t that mean Kendall was just like her mother? Oh, God! She didn’t want to end up alone, no better off than her mom was after her latest lover had moved on.
When Kendall had been nine, she’d taken paper and written down each of her uncles in chronological order. She’d had to because she was worried she’d start forgetting who they were, or mix them up—there’d been so many of them. Next to their names, she’d put information about them, like this uncle liked to paint or that uncle fished.
Even though her mom’s relationships tended to end with fireworks, most of the men had kept in touch with Kendall. Sometimes it was only a message once a year to wish her happy birthday, but she’d worked to keep up the contact. It wasn’t the same as having a dad, but knowing all these uncles cared enough about her to write meant a lot to her.
And it proved friendship lasted, like her mom had told her.
Kendall stared at Wyatt’s back. He’d put her against the wall and slept in front of her as a shield. His protectiveness inflamed her hormones. Part of her longed to reach out, to stroke her hand over him, to press a kiss between his shoulders. That would wake him up, and when he turned to find out what she was doing, she’d bring his mouth to hers and kiss him better than that Zolianna ever had. The thought of any other woman with Wyatt tore at her. It was stupid, beyond stupid. He’d had a life before they met, and no doubt, if they were on Earth, he’d regularly be having sex with someone else. J Nine had fostered some weird intimacy, but it wasn’t real. And Wyatt wasn’t hers.
She tightened her inner muscles, but instead of relieving the feeling of emptiness, it exacerbated it. At least when a teenage boy had a wet dream, he got to come. It seemed unfair that she was left frenzied with no relief in sight. Wyatt’s shoulders moved as he exhaled. Okay, so there was relief in sight, if he were willing to have sex with her.
And if she were willing to risk losing him forever.
Come on, Kendall, toughen up. It was just arousal, nothing more. If she had some privacy, she could take care of the ache in a few minutes, no big deal. All she needed to do was think of something else until she calmed down.
The dream. She could analyze it. Kendall frowned, trying to pin down details that were already fading. Wyatt had asked her to run off with him. Easy. They were trying to get out of the temple and he was leading them. Not quite exact, but close enough that it kind of made sense.
The part about letting Wyatt go to find another woman, well, she’d been oddly possessive since he’d kissed her, then murmured Zolianna’s name. Obviously, her subconscious knew they were meant to be nothing more than friends and was telling her to stop being jealous.
What else? Disagreeing with the planet’s rulers about building another city. Kendall considered that one for a while, but couldn’t come up with an answer. She’d have to hope she could remember it and look it up in her dream dictionary later.
The I-love-you-Zolianna part was simple, however—her envy explained it. She didn’t want to dwell on that, though, or the fact that she didn’t want him to love another woman.
Instead, she moved on to Wyatt himself. He’d scared the crap out of her when he’d hallucinated. She hadn’t known what was going on; she’d just seen him flailing his arms and stomping his feet. It had been one of the most frightening scenes she’d ever witnessed. And her fear had only increased when she’d tried to talk to him and he hadn’t heard her.
It scared her even more to think what might have happened if she hadn’t grabbed him when she had. He could have hurt himself. Or her. It would have been inadvertent, but Wyatt had been reacting to chimeras and wasn’t thinking straight.
Kendall didn’t believe the episode was a delayed reaction to the lack of oxygen. Any long-term problem would have manifested before today. But he’d been fine from the time he’d regained consciousness until the time he’d seen the beetles flying around.
So what had triggered his hallucination?
Wyatt was mentally stable; she’d take that to the bank. But if psychosis and oxygen deprivation were out, what was left?
“Bug, you okay?” Wyatt shifted onto his back.
“Yeah. How’d you know I was awake?”
“You were thinking so hard I could hear you in my sleep.” He grinned at her, then sobered as he rolled on his side to face her. “What’s bothering you, darlin’?”
More than she wanted him to know. “What isn’t bothering me? Things just seem to k
eep getting worse for us.”
“Yeah, but you can’t let it cost you sleep. I know,” Wyatt added, “it’s not that easy. You remind me of my oldest sister. When something’s eating at her, the insomnia hits right away. But lack of sleep makes problems seem insurmountable when they aren’t. You need to rest.”
He thought of her like his sister? His sister? That was worse than the girl next door. At least some guys went for her wholesome look, but no man was romantically interested in a woman he equated with an older sister. Instead of feeling relieved, Kendall wanted to cry.
Maybe it was lack of sleep. Maybe once they were out of here, had everything taken care of, and she’d spent about twelve hours unconscious in her own bed, she’d wonder why she’d ever fantasized about making love with Wyatt. Then they could go back to their friendship with minimal damage. Yeah, this was good.
But as she gazed into his eyes, she knew it was another lie. Things weren’t going to return to normal, not for her—not when she longed to close the few inches between them and kiss him.
Cards on the table, Thomas. You wanted him before this imprisonment in the temple. God, she remembered the night they met in line at the mess hall as if it had just happened—the way his voice had made her tingle in places she didn’t want to throb. She’d been afraid to look him in the eye, afraid he’d see what he was doing to her. Afraid it would kick her own need up a notch.
She’d been right to worry. When she’d turned to hand him a tray, and their gazes had finally met, the impact had been akin to taking a bullet in the chest. Or at least what she imagined that might feel like. Kendall hadn’t been able to catch her breath, and for an endless moment, she could do nothing except stare at him.
Somehow, she’d managed to tamp down her attraction and talk normally when they’d eaten together. Or almost normally. She’d told him things about herself that she’d never shared, and if he hadn’t come from some kind of Father Knows Best family, she might have told him even more. And at some point that evening, Kendall had managed to convince herself to keep him as a friend.
Now she wondered how she’d done it. And wondered if she could do it again. The longer she stared into his navy eyes, the more insistent the ache between her thighs became, and as that grew, the urge to pull him to her, to wrap her legs around him and kiss him senseless became overwhelming.
He knew what she was thinking.
Kendall saw the flare of awareness cross his face. He’d noticed that she wanted him and it scared her. She jerked her gaze away, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
It had to stop. She had to corral her desire.
“It’s all right, darlin’,” he told her, putting his hand on her shoulder. She jerked away and shook her head. It wasn’t okay; didn’t he get it? She was going to lose him and nothing would wound her more, nothing would leave her emptier than a life without Wyatt in it. Lovers parted ways. Always.
Friends were forever.
She repeated that like a mantra, and forced her eyes open. “I’m worried about you,” she said, and while it was true, it was a feint. Kendall wanted his attention off her want of him.
He paused. “There’s no need to be.”
Something in his voice made her freeze. Frustration, resignation, irritation—she heard all that and more. Kendall didn’t want to think about why he was feeling those things, so she ignored them. Just like she ignored the fact that her jerking away had hurt him again. Later, she’d feel bad about it, but right now she had to protect herself.
“You hallucinated! I’ve been trying to figure out what caused it because that’s the only way to prevent it from happening again.” He opened his mouth, but she kept talking, afraid of what he’d say if she gave him the chance. “I ruled out oxygen deprivation, and I know you’re not prone to episodes. If you were, I’d be aware of it since we spend so much time together. I’m not sure what else it could be, tho—”
“It’s not a big deal,” he interrupted.
That stopped Kendall cold. “How can you say that? You weren’t in your head at all! Marsh, you scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” he told her. She realized admitting fear was a huge mistake when he pulled her into his arms and rubbed his hand in circles over her back to soothe her.
Her mantra suddenly seemed a weak defense against her need for him. She should pull away, but she didn’t want to. Kendall choked back a moan in time to make it sound like a hiccup. With his hard body pressed to hers, the desire to have him fill her roared stronger than ever. She moved her face closer to his throat, barely stopping herself from licking him.
“I think I know what caused my hallucination,” Wyatt said, his mouth near her ear. She realized he was oblivious to her turmoil, and she sent up a silent thank-you.
Kendall struggled to regain her control, but she had to clear her throat before she could ask, “What?”
“The aliens believed in using the powers of their minds. Some of us can turn on the water and the lights here, but they could do more. Our scientists can’t figure out what protects the shield around the Old City or how it keeps out dust and bugs and such. And there are dozens of other examples like that.”
For a moment, she frowned, trying to connect what he was saying with what she’d asked. It was hard when all she could think about was him. Then it dawned on her what he was getting at and she pulled back so she could see his face.
“You’re not saying...” Kendall stopped when she saw his expression. “You don’t really think that you triggered some kind of alien mind trap, do you?”
Chapter Eleven
Alex glanced up from the computer screen, noticed dawn was breaking and muttered a curse. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his fingers over his eyes. He hadn’t planned to stay up all night, but he’d been fascinated.
Thomas had documented this smuggling ring in excruciating detail. Not just dates, drawings and pictures, she’d commented on each step of her investigation—including when she’d become concerned enough that she couldn’t wait for Montgomery to return from his mission outside the Old City. She’d gone to Hunter, told him her suspicions, and asked for his help.
And throughout the whole damn document, she’d repeatedly questioned whether she had enough to report it yet. Alex sighed heavily. Over and over, she’d worried about his reaction. Maybe his rep as a badass had reached a point where it was interfering with his ability to do his job. The girl sure as hell shouldn’t have been more frightened of him than she was of the thieves, and clearly she had been. He only wished he knew why Hunter hadn’t said something. No one in Spec Ops would be put off by him.
He thought about getting a cup of coffee—he was going to need the caffeine to stay awake all day—but Alex didn’t feel like moving yet. According to what Thomas had typed, she hadn’t known who was part of the ring, but she was sure the answer was in the computer files she worked with every day.
So if he were in the girl’s place, what would he have done? Her notes said that Hunter told her to leave everything to him, but Thomas hadn’t wanted to. She didn’t come right out and say it, but it was clear she felt as if she had a better chance at coming up with answers than Catfish. Since she knew archeology and had a familiarity with the data and the systems used by the social scientists examining the Old City, she was probably right.
Alex tapped a finger against his handheld unit, and thought about the situation. Hunter was dead, Thomas and Montgomery were missing, and two more soldiers were AWOL. These men, however, had no ties to the three captains that he could identify.
McNamara was riding him about these events, and he was getting damn tired of it. Did she think he could rub a magic lamp and have the genie give him all the answers? At least he’d found a way around the regulation requiring he report removing the computer from Thomas’s quarters. Instead of taking it, he’d downloaded the contents of the hard drive onto his PDA. Alex’s lips turned up at the corners. The regs hadn’t been updated recently, and since he wasn’t taking any p
hysical object out, he could skirt the issue. Of course, if the colonel ever found out, he’d have his ass in a sling ASAP.
With a grimace, Alex powered down the unit and unhooked it from the computer. In a matter of hours, he’d read a huge amount of info, and he needed to think, to connect the dots.
He’d password protected his handheld with layers and layers of security, but he wasn’t taking any chances—Alex brought it into the bathroom with him while he showered. He’d sealed up Thomas’s house again—no one was getting in and finding her computer—so the information was safe there too.
As he shaved, he thought some more about what he’d read. Thomas had updated her files every night, whether she’d found something new or not, so he was aware of exactly what she’d known until the day before she disappeared. What had happened that final day? What had the girl done? What had she discovered that had prompted her to chase after him that evening?
She was smart, she was thorough, she was tenacious and she was a computer geek—all things Alex appreciated. So what would someone with those qualities do? What would he have done in her place? The answer came as he was wiping the remnants of lather from his face. He would have continued to do the same things he’d been doing. They’d been bringing answers, so why quit?
Padding barefoot into the kitchen, Alex started the coffeepot. It was hooked up to a grid the Western Alliance had brought for power and didn’t require any unusual knowledge to operate. Today, he appreciated that.
For a minute, he stopped, the silence of the house slamming into him the same way it had every other time he’d quit thinking about his job. So he missed Stacey, big deal. He’d get over it the same way he’d gotten over the other people who’d walked out on him. It would just take time, that’s all.
