by Yvette Hines
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by S.E. Smith. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Magic, New Mexico remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of S.E. Smith, or their affiliates or licensors.
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Touch of Heat
Magic, New Mexico Kindle World: a Touch of Frost spinoff
USA Today Bestselling Author
YVETTE HINES
Cyran was a simple royal attendant on her planet before it was destroyed. Now, she finds herself fleeing an abduction and everything important to her is lost. She is on the run and time is of the essence as her latent calori series surfaces—a benefit to all her kind touches. Magic New Mexico is her only hope as she attempts to blend in to the oddity of the town. Just when she begins to relax and believe that no one will find her so far away on the primitive planet, she comes face to face with the man sent after her. Her body recognizes this man in a way she wished it didn’t, complicating any hope she has of avoiding him.
Kesh T’en is a galaxy bounty hunter. A tracker for hire. When he is offered a substantial payment that could help his planet he takes it. Going after a runaway bride is just another job to him, even if the intended groom makes bile rise in his throat. Finding people and presenting them to the payer is something he’s done without sentiment, until her. Cyran is a woman that causes his blood to burn. For the first time in his self-made career, he is caught between honoring a job or following his desires.
Can the job that steered Kesh to Cyran drive them apart even when the bond weaved between them can only be broken by death?
Chapter One
“Ah, my precious.”
Harsh big hands dragged along her skin and her soul recoiled, she cringed. There was a haze rising high in her mind. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to think about anything but one thing. This fog of need came too often for her. There was nothing that she could do about it. No way to fight it but one. Here and now that wasn’t an option.
“You are going to be my queen.”
Hot rancid breath offended her nostrils and made her skin crawl. She wanted to vomit, but there was nothing in her stomach to regurgitate. Pressing against the surprisingly soft bedding beneath her, she tried to sit up. For some reason she couldn’t get her limbs to work, they were heavy and disconnected. Even her vision and focus were working against her. Out of all the things that didn’t seem natural at the moment one frightened her most—the building heat. The furnace that simmered within.
She inhaled the putrid stench saturating her air, just enough to attempt to clear her muddled mind. Something was wrong.
“My special one, in the coming days we shall be joined.” A thick grimy hand touched her again, this time dragging down the front of her chest.
Her nipples sparked, tightening quickly in an unnatural way. Pain from the rapid heat twisted from her breasts to her core and nausea exploded in its wake. Too much. Too soon. This is not right. “Sh-hould happen…n-n-not.”
“Eah ha ha.” He cackled either at her jumbled words or her body’s response.
Outside of Harveton, people usually didn’t know their secret and surely those that happened upon it did not understand the true power of it. As little ones they were educated on the power of the change and all it meant for their survival.
“It is happening. Don’t try and stop it.” He pinched her high on the thigh, too close to the center of the blaze.
Her arms shot out, almost of their own accord. As much as desire was a major part of her calori series so was violence, the need to protect. In her life, she’d had one, never the other. “No.”
“Be still!” He grunted as he took hold of her arms. “I will be your king at the perfect peak time.” His fingers dug into her painfully. “If I choose an early sampling it is my right.”
Cyran pried her lids apart, working against whatever foreign substance was causing her body the untimely change. She barely stifled her gasp of horror at the sight of the being holding her. To think him unsightly was not the truth, because there were not words in her Harveton planet language to describe the individual before her. Every feature of his face was bulbous, disjointed and covered in layers of filth.
Did his kind not know the health resources in cleansing? Glancing beyond his shoulder, one because she needed something to look at that wasn’t his face and another because she needed to get her bearings to know where on her home planet she was sequestered. One sweep of her gaze around the area let her know in an instant this cold metal box style place was not on her planet. They only built things that were natural, grown from the soil.
“Where am I?” She shoved back, trying to scoot away from the massive person before her. The being held her strong and she could only acquire a marginal amount of space.
“On Vorhal of course.” His hands moved along her arms. “I am your intended King Rasp.” He smiled.
She would never had thought it possible but his features became more disfigured and horrifying with the expression. This individual should never smile. Cyran shivered.
When his touch slackened and moved closer to her hands, she folded them back against her body having no desire to feel him skin to…whatever he had.
“Why am I here? Where are my people?”
“Destroyed.” He waved a hand as if he’d simply shooed away a dung gnat. “What?” It took a large amount of her energy and focus, but she scrambled back toward the mound of pillows at the top of the bedding to move away.
“Precious bride. I only had need of you. The rest was a waste and too disagreeable to Vorhalian rule.”
“No-o-o…” Her people were fierce in protecting the planet and innate resource but not violent. Not deadly. “How? Why?”
The smelly, large king simply shrugged. “If they will not be ruled than they must be eliminated, Princess.”
“Princess?” The title tripped out of her mouth.
“Yes. Your royal genetics is just what we need here on my world.” His hand drew along her body, close but thankfully didn’t touch. “Your lust cycle is an extra bonus.” His rough, broken laugh erupted again.
Princess. Oh, Star Goddess there has been a mistake, a grave one.
Clutching her stomach, the bile that rose beyond the blaze swelling up in her core was brought on by grief and pain. Dead. Her family and citizens were dead. She bent toward the side of the structure knowing she was going to be ill.
“Whatever spews from your mouth, will be served to you at meal time. I need no queen beside me that shows weakness.”
She gulped and locked her jaw as she forced with all of her might the acidic content of her stomach to remain in. Unsure if the vile, murderous king was speaking an untruth or not she didn’t chance it. Right now she needed to clear her mind. She needed to think and find a way out of this horrid situation. There was no way on any planet she’d be queen to any man and especially not this one.
“Good work, my soon queen.” One of his hands stroked her back.
The vomit bubbled up and coated the back of her tongue. She swallowed it back. This man’s touch offended her on multiple levels.
“Why would you kill the Harveton citizens? My paren—” Her voice broke as she thought about her family. Pain radiated through her heart as she thought about Myna the princess, her royal detail and her best friend…now gone with the king and queen and everyone else. Gone. All gone. “We are a peaceful peo
ple.”
“A waste of people. War and battles are the way of the Cartenon Galaxy.”
Oh, Star Goddess, how far am I from my homeland? “I have never heard of this galaxy, how did you come upon our planet?”
“The perfect portal now exists to go anywhere. One of our scout vessels tumbled through an unexpected wormhole that folded toward planet Glacier. I have no need of a frozen planet, however circumventing the galaxy trying to find a way to another known hole my commander at arms found a lush planet. In their observation they became aware of the bounty your planet held.”
She was familiar with the ice planet Glacier that was at the opposite end of her galaxy. Unlike her own planet that was closer to the largest star in the galaxy, the tundra of Glacier was the furthest away. She shot him a hard look. “If you would have but asked our King, he would have supplied you with trade and food.”
Although looking at him and around the place she wasn’t sure of anything they had that the Harveton people would have wanted in trade. Larnt was a wise king and would have thought of something to ensure the ship and foreigners went away. She wondered if the people who had opened up the portal were aware of the situation they had caused.
“Your planets resources are not of importance with the exception of one.” The heat of his breath as he leaned toward her made her eyes burn. “You Cyran.”
She shivered. “Why me?”
“I’ve heard stories of a planet that is so lush in the core and fertile that offspring flow from a royal woman’s womb like water from a well. Due to your innate desires.” His pitch lowered and his gaze glowed with lust as it roamed her body. “My world has been cursed by death. Even with effort and using females from all over our galaxy few young are born. A world cannot survive without more generations. I will not see my world end.” He punched a fist into his other hand.
It was too easy for her to see this man and anything like him ended. “Well, you have made a grave mistake.” She attempted to get up. “Just let me go.”
He shoved her back down. “No mistake, princess.” The nasty king stood. “In days’ time you will be my queen and begin to provide me with strong Vorhal young.” He rose. “Since there is still some rebellion in you, I see more mixture is warranted.” His metallic robe trailed in the wake of his laborious gate as he moved toward a table that held strange glob like substances on trays and a pitcher beside two glasses.
A mixture? She slowly rose, the cold metal floor chilling her bare feet. Not willing to lie down and allow this man to just give her something that was doing goddess’ only knew what to her body. However, it explained a lot. The odd intense feelings that were happening in her body were forced on her. It was unnatural. She was sure it was the reason her insides were fighting against the response. There was one main reason why she was an attendant to one of her king’s daughters. Cyran was calori-less. Those that didn’t have royal blood, who had diluted their genetics by mixing with those from within the galaxy, often produced young who did not enter into many calori series. For herself, she had proven early in her life cycle she was defective. Her energy still fertilized plants to grow, but the heat of her own womb lay dormant. Making her the perfect royal attendant. She had never despised her life. She and Myna had been close and kept a special friendship from their youth.
The thought of the now deceased princess caused her a deep ache and made Cyran even more determined to leave this place, by any means.
“Drink this, my precious one.” He shuffled and snorted as he moved back to her with a glass of something ginger in color.
Taking the glass shoved at her, she stared down into it. The substance looked thick and slimy.
“Drink it!” he barked.
Think, she ordered herself as she slowly raised the glass. The horrendous smell hit her first, a combination of waste and rancid fruit. She couldn’t drink it.
“Trust me. It will make the harsh response you had to the medicine easier this time. Even unconscious you didn’t take it well.”
“Then why give it to me again?” The glass was close to her mouth, but she was thinking of any reason not to consume it.
His cackle was harsh and loud. “To ensure the success of our joining. Your body remained unresponsive and cool. My medical men have said you are suppressing your lust gene on purpose and once we block your ability with just the right amount it will be uncontainable.” The glow returned to his eyes.
Evidently, his medical men weren’t bright. The response they were eliciting from her wasn’t real. Would never be real. True when she’d awakened her body had shown similar signs to the calori, but they had waned and were nowhere near as powerful as she had been taught or witnessed firsthand around other Harveton females.
Rasp moved away and went to a rolling table with a black dome over it. When he rolled it back, Cyran saw the bottles and various syringes.
“Let me go,” she pleaded, her hands beginning to shake.
“Never.” He turned his head and offered her a demented smile before turning back to the cart. Rasp picked up a bottle and started filling a syringe.
If he had a chance to inject her, she knew her chance of escape would be gone. The drug made things unclear in her mind and vision, as well as the synthetic heat it produced. The glass fell from her hand.
She was unsure of whether she’d let it go or the shaking in her hands caused it to slip. No matter, a plan formulated in her mind as she stared down at the broken pieces among the odd colored sludge.
“Farn-hobbit!” Rasp slammed down the items in his hand and looked from the mess to her.
Her kind took on language upon contact and she understood the curse clearly. “Sorry,” she mumbled the apology and forced her gaze down.
“We can do this without the dulling juice. Makes no difference to me.”
“No!” She offered a smile to decrease the harshness of her speech. “It is painful. Please give me another.”
Rasp’s wide nostrils flared, but he nodded and seemed to visually calm himself.
When he turned his back on her and started toward the table with the pitcher she acted quickly. Swooping down and snatching up a shard of glass, she rose just in time to appear humbled, docile.
“No more hesitating,” He commanded as he lumbered forward. “Drink this down. I have many plans for us tonight.”
“I understand,” she mumbled, as she lifted her face and kept her features neutral.
The moment he was close enough to extend the new drink to her, she reached out. Grabbing his thick wrist instead of the glass, she yanked him hard toward her. Swinging with her left hand in a short, fast arc, she buried the point of the weapon in his fat neck and wrenched it downward.
“Ah-h-h!” Greenish-brown blood came spewing out. Rasp dropped the other glass as he clutched his neck and attempted to dislodge the broken glass. His wails gurgled out.
Not wasting a moment, she planted a foot in the center of his big stomach and shoved.
Rasp stumbled back, one arm flailing around blindly, but was unable to stop himself from tripping.
She dashed over his prone twisting body and went for the cart. Cyran grabbed the syringe and returned to the wounded, mad king.
His eyes stretched wide as he saw the needle aimed for him. He swung an arm up to stop her, but ended up with the injection in his hand.
Cyran didn’t care. Recalling the strength of that medicine in her body, she was sure it was powerful enough to get into his system by any entry point.
When his eyes rolled back almost immediately and he started bucking and moaning on the floor, she knew she was right.
Time to get away. She wasn’t sure how long before someone would come looking for their king. It was her plan not to be here and hopefully off the planet when they did. Clutching the gauzy material, she picked up in her hand so she could run, she raced toward the door. With a quick prayer to the star goddess, she pressed a hand against the palm pad.
It didn’t open. She slapped her hand on it
again. Multiple curses of her native language shot through her mind.
Turning her head, she looked at the writhing male on the floor. If her palm didn’t get her out, there was only one in the room that could. Her body shivered at the thought of having to touch his coarse flesh again, but she had to do what needed to be done. Escape was her only option.
Going to him, she took hold of his wrist with both of hers.
The male sighed and wiggled more at her touch.
Knowing her touch was bringing him any level of pleasure made her want to vomit all over him. Maintaining her focus, she dragged him across the floor to the panel. When they were before it, she was thankful it was at the perfect height for his hand to reach. If she had to lift him, she wasn’t sure she would had the strength to do it. Pulling him there had taken a lot out of her.
She pressed his hand flat on the panel and almost cried with relief when it swished open. Flinging his limb down so it landed on his body and not by the door, she stepped out into the hall. It was empty.
Not sure where she was going, she turned with her first inclination and moved down the corridor. Dark metal walls surrounded her and the low light made it hard for her to see clearly more than fifty feet before her. Sounds of heavy steps and voices echoed along the hall and she wasn’t sure how close someone was to her.
Prepared to turn and head in another direction, she spotted a male coming out of a door adjusting some sort of uniform. When he went in the opposite direction from where she was standing, she waited until she couldn’t see him anymore and darted into the room.
The door opened as she approached and she entered. Inside she realized it was filled with items that appeared to be military supplies. She looked in every cabinet and drawer. Joy bubbled up inside of her when she came upon a bin with soiled uniforms. The stench was knee buckling, but she didn’t care. Her flowing garment, didn’t seem to fit on this planet and if she was going to find a way off it, she couldn’t stand out. Cyran wasn’t sure how many inhabitants had seen them bring her in or knew that she was the intended of the king. She doused the shiver at the thought.
