Alien Romance Box Set: Romantic Suspense: Alien Destiny: Scifi Alien Romance Adventure Romantic Suspence Trilogy (Complete Series Box Set Books 1-3)

by Ashley L. Hunt

  “Why didn’t you just destroy them,” Thukkar demanded. “Why didn’t you just erase them from the universe?”

  "It's not that simple," Ravanur answered, but she didn't elaborate further. "Rest assured; this is as close to dead as one of them gets."

  “One of you, you mean,” spat Nissikul.

  “No, one of them,” Ravanur corrected. “Those of us rebels that survived all fifty-thousand years of war- we divested ourselves of our slave minds, the slave souls. We found worlds similar to ours, where people much like us were just developing.” She looked over at me. “We even found yours.”

  “Earth?” I blurted, horrified. “Did you do something us? Did you do something to humans?”

  “No.” Ravanur smiled grimly. “No, we left the dominant people we found alone, and your people were well on their way to driving all other variants of human to extinction. So we saved a group of them- the group most likely to die first. They were more like us. They were meat-eaters, consummate hunters, and they were simply outnumbered by your people and all the other omnivores of your world. We brought all of these orphaned people to our world, and we built a place for them to live.” My companions were silent at this revelation. I imagined that the concept was too big to quickly come to terms with. The Erinye were originally from Earth. They were, in a way, cousins to the human race. We weren’t so different from each other after all.

  I waved a hand above my head, to indicate the unseen glacier above my head. "Real lovely place you built here."

  “It was not always cold here. We released our slave souls into the world, some of them inhabiting the feeble-minded or brain-damaged among these various people and making them somewhat whole again. But most of the slave-minds had been data in a machine for too long. They were used to being part of a machine, cogs in an engine. So we put them into nanite swarms, each of them given a specific purpose- to regulate the weather, to eliminate disease, and so on- and set free into the world like mechanical spirits. The other former lesser gods and I, we just tried to blend in with the people, shepherd them, and help them make their own way together as a family of outcasts. For a few hundred years, it worked.”

  "It didn't last," I guessed. "Just like the biblical Garden of Eden."

  “No,” Ravanur answered. “It didn’t last. The gods we had killed- they found ways to seep out of their tombs, just a little bit at a time. I think they may have co-opted some of the former slave minds, using their nanite swarms to appear in apparitions or miracles to the people of this place.”

  “They staged a jailbreak,” I guessed.

  "They tried." Ravanur's voice turned cruel again. "They made a broadcast tower and sent a great signal into space, calling for any remaining gods to come and rescue them. They polluted many of the races we had brought here to save, and turned them into horrifying abominations which they used to try to kill us all and release themselves. You see, they no longer cared about having bodies. A nanite swarm would do just fine, because they could reshape the world unseen, and perhaps regain their former glory by subtle means- only claiming new bodies when the time was right. My fellow rebel gods and I- most of us died crushing the insurrection. It was the Erinye- the carnivores from your planet- that proved our staunchest supporters. We found ways to empower some of them. I would embed my warriors with a nanite control device and factory. Then I would bind them to a single ‘weather spirit.' They would use these great powers to an incredible effect- and I am certain that without them, the great gods would have been freed."

  “You’re talking about us,” Nissikul whispered, her anger fading into something like shocked awe. “You’re talking about the Stormcallers.”

  "Just so." Ravanur's voice bore an undeniable note of satisfaction. "Unfortunately, between us and the great dead gods, the ecosystem we established here was ravaged. We had to adapt. And we had to make this place impossible to find."

  “You froze the planet,” I said, understanding.

  “We placed it in the coldest orbit we could find. We coated the whole thing in thick glacier and made this place the kind of cold that would kill anyone who came here unprepared. The people we moved underground, to places where the cold was not so punishing. We taught them how to survive and set up Stormcallers among all of the remaining people to keep their tribes safe and warm. But something had to be done to make sure this didn’t happen again.” Ravanur paused, then sighed and continued. “Only a god named Palamun and I remained of the old rebels.”

  “The Great Father?” Volistad blurted, unable to contain himself. “Palamun was one of you?”

  “Ravanur laughed again. “Was, and is. The old goat is still around here somewhere, and unless I missed my guess,” she pointed to Volistad. “Unless I missed my guess, Palamun has already left his mark on you.” Volistad blinked and looked down at himself, suddenly clutching at his heart. He didn’t say anything else.

  Ravanur continued. “There was a process we had devised, a now ancient process like the one we had used to enslave so many people so many years ago. Palamun harvested me, but this time, he made me the Overmind. He trapped me in a tomb of my own, separate from the mass of old dead gods- but he enslaved them all to me. I was heavily restricted, heavily bound, shackled down to every iota of thought. I could not act- except to defend this prison. I could not interact with the old gods, except to crush them back into line, keep them dead. I became the most powerful god my people ever made- but I was still made a slave.”

  “The cold is a part of it. It keeps the place hidden from any gods we might have missed, and it keeps the old ones buried. They can't affect plants and animals, because there are none for them to reach. Or at least mostly. Every few hundred years, I release a degenerative virus into the prison, so that anything they touch in the outside world tears itself apart from the inside. It doesn't stop the dead gods from trying, though."

  “The only god you can trust is a dead one,” Thukkar whispered. “Like the high epic says. We can only trust you because you are dead and chained.”

  “And you want to make Joanna like you?” Volistad hissed. “You want to make her into another god, after all you’ve just told us?”

  “How many people have to die for that to happen?” I added, the possibilities sickening me. “I won’t murder innocents for you. I won’t consume the minds of slaves, no matter what your intentions are.”

  "Of course not." Ravanur's voice then took on an odd tone, one that I couldn't place. "There will only be one sacrifice, and the balance will be restored." She was silent for a moment, but when she spoke again, her voice carried all the weight of holy scripture. "The only god you can trust is one who has passed through the scourge of death. The true servant, the true savior of the people, has to die before she can live again."

  I felt a chill grip my heart, like icy fingers in my chest. “So the North Wind was right, you are going to kill me?”

  “No,” Ravanur said grimly. She nodded to my companions. “One of them will.”

  …

  Volistad

  "We will do no such thing!" I snapped, not even bothering with a hint of deference. At this point, I was having a hard time seeing the difference between our "Great Mother" and the Dark Ones that she claimed to imprison. "Come, everyone, we're leaving. I've heard enough of this nonsense."

  Ravanur addressed Joanna as if I hadn't spoken at all. "Think back to your history, girl. Have you heard of Ba'al? What about Moloch? Or Ishtar? Or Quetzalcoatl?" By the way that Joanna's eyes widened, she had heard these names before. "The darkest gods of your myths are but time distorted memories of the beings I have locked away here. As cruel and vile as those gods I named are in your legends, the very real beings that inspired such monsters are a whole world of worse. And they are the least of those I have imprisoned here. If you do not do this, if you do not do what is necessary, they and their betters will be unleashed unto an unsuspecting universe. And everything you love and care about will die.”

  Joanna laughed, bitterly. “
Everything I love and care about is already dead, or long lost. I already told you I would do it.”

  “Joanna!” I pleaded. "You don't have to do this! This is madness! Our gods were a lie; they're all just people who turned themselves into monsters! You can't let this- this thing convince you to die!”

  Joanna turned to me, a sad half-smile twisting her lips. She reached out with one hand and touched my face, gently. "Volistad, it has been wonderful to know you. I don't know what will happen when I take this step; I don't know if I'll really be myself, even if this works."

  “It will work,” Nissikul said quietly.

  “What?” I turned to her. Nissi looked drained, her face drawn and exhausted. “How do you know it will work?”

  “Vol,” her tone was gentle. “The secrets of my order include how we are made. Unless I’m completely mistaken, I think Joanna is about to go through something similar.”

  Ravanur nodded. “It is a ritual that we created when we made the first Stormcallers. They were very powerful, great in strength, greater even than one as talented as you, child. What I will do here, what I will make of her will be something even greater than they, the first of your order.”

  Nissi grimaced. “Then we need a dagger. A ritual ketika.”

  "Not a ketika," Ravanur interjected. "No simple knife for this."

  I ignored Ravanur, focusing on my sister. "No, Nissi, we're not doing this! How can we trust anything she says? How can-"

  “Volistad,” Joanna said, simply. “You promised to stand with me until the end. Please. I’m going through with this, and I need someone to help me.” She met my eyes.

  She was just as beautiful as the day I had first seen her face through the crystal face of her armor. Her eyes were wide and inviting, and I thought I could stare into them forever. So strong, so determined. How could I stand against her when she had chosen her way forward? How could I deny her will when she had already made the decision to be the sacrifice to protect the people? My people? “If it doesn’t work, you will be gone forever,” I pleaded, my voice cracking as a lump rose in my throat.

  Joanna gave me that sad smile again. "Then just in case I don't come back, I had better do this first." She stepped into me, suddenly, pressing her body against mine. Even through my armor, the contact with her was electrifying, and I felt my magickal heart speed up as my blood rose. Her scent was intoxicating, sweet and heady, and I was so dazed by her sudden proximity that I was caught completely off guard when she pressed her lips against mine and kissed me. I had kissed and been kissed before, but never like this. She came at me hungrily, biting my lower lip, her tongue flicking into my mouth and tasting me with ravenous curiosity. My arms closed around her, and I returned the kiss in kind. For a moment, the world vanished around us. I didn't feel the cold, or the weariness of such a long and hard journey. I forgot my fear for Joanna for just a moment and reveled in her passion, her taste, her heat.

  After a minute we broke apart, breathing hard. Joanna smiled up at me, her tanned cheeks rosy, her eyes bright with joy. “That’s what I needed,” she said, satisfied. “I’ll see you on the other side, ranger.”

  Before I could even stop to think about it, I blurted, “I’ll do it.”

  “What?” said Nissi, who was caught halfway between a pleased smile and a pained grimace.

  “Let me bear the knife. Someone has to do it, and I promised to see this through. I’ll do it.” I glared at Ravanur. “But not for you ‘Great Mother’. I’ll do it for her.”

  Ravanur was unconcerned. “Fair enough.” She gestured to the bloody altar. “We have little time. Chosen one, remove your garments.”

  Joanna didn’t hesitate, shucking off her tattered furs and tossing them aside, once again revealing her tight, muscled body. She handed her curved sword to me with a serious expression. “Hold on to this, ranger. I’m going to need this before long.” Then, without waiting for a command from Ravanur, she clambered up onto the blood-stained altar and lay down.

  She looked cold. Her skin was stippled with gooseflesh, and her nipples stood out hard against her breasts. Her breathing was slow and even. Somehow, even knowing what was coming, she was calm.

  “Bring me the burug heart from her bag," Ravanur ordered, and Thukkar, who had been standing as if transfixed, leaped to obey. He rummaged through the discarded furs and found her pack, then withdrew the black heart and held it out to the Great Mother.

  Ravanur took the burug and closed her eyes, and as we watched it began to change. It shrank, staying mostly the same shape but shriveling in on itself until it was the right size to fit in the chest of an Erinye. It was the right size to fit in the chest of one who was very much like an Erinye, as well. I suddenly understood what was happening, but though my stomach lurched with revulsion, I held it together. There was no turning back now. I had promised.

  Nissi drew out something from within her robes, and I recognized it immediately. It was the kazakatta from the atrium of the temple, and its razor claws glittered menacingly in the strange light of Ravanur’s sanctum. Meeting my eyes with an expression of faint apology, she proffered the handle of the vile tool to me, and I took it.

  Ravanur stepped up beside me, the now Erinye-sized black heart in her hands. “Do it quickly, Volistad. I must make the switch before her body fully dies.”

  “Is this going to hurt her?” I asked, immediately knowing that my question was ridiculous. “Can’t you do something for the pain?”

  “It would be pointless,” Ravanur replied, shaking her head. “The pain is a part of it. But it will pass quickly enough, and she will be better for it. She will be beyond such petty things as pain.”

  I blew out a long breath and stepped up to the altar. Joanna smiled up at me, trying to keep a brave face in spite of what she knew was coming. I swallowed hard and gritted my teeth to maintain my composure. If she could be courageous through this, so would I. “I’ll see you on the other side,” I said, repeating her own phrase.

  Joanna grinned, as if everything were alright. Her eyes were lit with some dark inner fire as if the whole thing were a grand joke, and immensely amusing to her. “Do it, Vol. I’ll see you in just a little while.”

  I placed the claws against Joanna's skin, just beside her breast, where I could feel her heart beating. I took in a deep breath and let it out sharply. Then, before I could think about it any further, I dropped my whole weight down onto the heart-taker. Joanna didn't scream; she just grunted as the spidery fingers of the ritual device plunged into her skin and into her chest. Her eyes flew open wide, and her mouth gaped, but she did not scream. I had to do this quickly. The sooner it was done, the sooner her pain would be over. I squeezed the little trigger in the hilt of the kazakatta. There was a series of sharp cracking sounds inside Joanna's chest as the fingers snapped closed, severing arteries and breaking ribs. Joanna bucked, hard, groaning, her eyes filling with tears as red showed at her lips. She met my eyes, and her mouth formed the words, do it. I bared my fangs, and with a roar, I tore her heart out of her chest in a spray of bright red.

  Ravanur immediately shoved me aside with unexpected strength, sending me staggering back several paces before I tripped and fell heavily. The kazakatta and its grisly prize went skidding from my grasp, and it was all I could do not to throw up at the sight of it.

  By the altar, the Great Mother of the Erinye worked quickly, laboring over Joanna's bloody form with deft, precise motions. After a few agonizing seconds, she placed both her hands on Joanna's bloody, torn chest and roared. The sound was huge, greater than the roar of the most ferocious Erinye I had ever heard, greater than the crash of a surface storm. I could feel the raw power of that sound pressing against my ears, and my head felt like it would burst from that horrible pressure. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt terrible winds sweeping through the temple, tearing at me and laying me out flat on the stone. Light burned in even through my eyelids, and I screamed as hurricane rage crashed down all around me. A great, thunderous laughter filled
my ears, and I recognized it as the voice of the Great North Wind. The ground shook, the temple shuddered, the North Wind laughed, and Ravanur roared. And then it was over.

  I opened my eyes. Ravanur was gone. The temple was dark, again, but I could still see, by the light of a faint luminescence emanating from the top of the altar. I stood, shakily, and beside me rose Nissikul and Thukkar. They looked as terrified as I felt, and I took some comfort in the fact that at least I wasn’t alone in the feeling. Tentatively, we approached the altar, the bluish glow casting us into stark shadow. “Joanna?”

  A woman sat up atop the altar, naked and perfect but for a pale, branching scar between her breasts. Thick black hair spilled down over her light brown skin, cascading over her shoulders in luxurious curls that fell almost to her waist. Her face was much the same as it had been before, but there was something new about it, something I couldn’t quite place. Her eyes met mine, and where they had once been brown, they now glowed a dull orange, like embers from last night’s fire. She smiled, and I felt the same longing I had the night before, when I had looked upon her naked in the garden pool. “Volistad,” she said, meeting my eyes with a directness that told me that she knew exactly what I was thinking about. “Would you please fetch my clothes?”