She stripped, grabbed a handful of paper towels and washed, shivering when the cold water hit her skin. The warm air dried her while she gathered the makeup from her tote and applied a thick layer then outlined her eyes with black eyeliner and coated her lashes with several layers of mascara. The shape of her face changed as she used blush to make her cheekbones appear rounder. Lastly, she pulled on the wig making sure none of her own hair showed, and then arranged the blonde strands around her face.
She dropped the baggy dress over her head and stepped into the boots. Her clothes went into the bottom of her tote before she pulled on the coat. She left the bathroom and hid the bag under a large pile in the far corner of the room. The door to the alley appeared to be unlocked so she opened it and peered out. Seeing the way was clear she slipped out, put on the sunglasses and walked to the end of the alley where she joined a group of tall suit-clad men. She walked close behind them until she spotted a taxi cruising toward her. Hailing it she jumped in as soon as the driver pulled over and told him to take her to the alien station.
The driver gave her a funny look. "You one of those women going into space with those warriors?"
"Yes, and I'm late so could you please hurry?" Daria glanced through the back window looking for anyone who might be following her. She tried to remember what she'd been shown during the tour of the station and starship but the adrenaline that had kept her going was wearing off. Leaning over, she rolled down the window and let the freezing air revive her. She knew every female who entered the station had to eventually show her ID. Somehow she'd have to avoid it as she'd left her identification in her tote and certainly wouldn't show it anyway. Remembering the layout of the station she realized she might be able to go directly to the changing rooms.
Madami Valan told her the women who went to Zarronia weren't allowed to take anything with them, not even their own clothes. In the changing rooms they stripped, showered and dressed in gowns provided by the Zarronians. They were then transferred to a starship and taken to a dorm-like chamber which they shared during the journey. That would cause a problem as well. Once on the starship the females were carefully monitored. She'd have to get away before she was taken to the women's chamber and find a place to hide. Madami Valan had also showed her the second level of the starship where several quarters for Ambassadors and other VIPs were located. She remembered asking Madami Valan if she lived on the starship and she had said the quarters were unoccupied unless an Ambassador was on board. A small hysterical laugh escaped Daria's lips as she realized she might make it after all if she could reach the second level and gain entry into one of those quarters.
"Here we are, lady. Sure hope you know what you're doing," the taxi driver said.
"I do, too." She opened the door and swiveled around to get out of the vehicle. "How much do I owe you?"
"A hundred credits." He chuckled at her look of shock.
Daria patted her pockets. "I don’t seem to have my credit chip with me." She removed the diamond necklace from around her neck and held it out, letting it swing back and forth while it caught the light and sparkled. "Will this do?"
He laughed, grabbed the necklace, examined it and nodded.
Curiously she asked, "What would you have done if I couldn't pay your price?"
"Nothing, lady. But, I figure anyone who comes out here won't need the credits anymore and I do." He laughed and waved at her as she shut the door and turned towards the white stone building.
She approached the doors. They opened to let her enter the reception room that held hundreds of women. The women in the back, closest to her, glanced at her, gave her the once over and turned away. Catching a reflection of herself in the glass wall she snorted. In the ugly wig and heavy makeup she was no prize that was for sure. She made her way to the right side of the room and stopped next to a large potted tree that stood next to a closed door. Beyond that barrier was a hallway that led directly to the changing rooms and her ticket to freedom. All she had to do was get through it.
The women around her moved toward the other end of the room where a row of doors were lined up. One by one they stepped through them. Most of the women never returned but a few would appear again escorted by a stony-faced warrior. They'd be marched out to a waiting shuttle and Daria figured they'd been rejected and would be given a ride back to the city. Her reporter's curiosity rose and she fought the urge to run out to the shuttle and ask the women what had happened. The door opening next to her saved her.
Several warriors came through it. She waited until they moved away then scurried around the tree, saw that the corridor was empty and slipped through the door right before it closed. The corridor ended after twenty feet. She hesitated then peered around the corner and chose to go left toward a door that led to the changing rooms. She slipped inside and several women glanced at her then went back to fixing their hair.
Mirrors and sinks lined the walls on either side of her and dozens of showers were placed along the back of the room. She moved to the last one and stripped then shoved her clothes through a small door that was marked as a disposal unit. After adjusting the temperature of the water she stepped into the shower and scrubbed her skin but avoided smearing her make-up. The temptation to remove the wig and wash her hair nearly overwhelmed her but she resisted it and decided to leave the wig on until she was on the starship.
Several women waited to use the shower so she stepped out, dried herself, and pulled on one of the Zarronian gowns. A glance in the mirror had her groaning. The dress was skintight and outlined every inch of her curves. It clung to her breasts and stretched across her hips and belly before it ended at her knees. The material was silky and thin, but thankfully not transparent. Accepting the situation she moved into the next room and used one of the brushes to smooth her hair.
"Didn't you hear what the man said? No make-up allowed," the dark brunette next to her said.
"Uh, no, I guess I didn't hear that part. Are you sure?" Rats, she thought to herself, without the make-up she might be recognized.
"I'm sure. You better wash it off. They said anyone who didn't want to comply wouldn't be allowed to transfer to the starship."
Cursing beneath her breath, Daria leaned over the sink and began removing the thick layer of cosmetics. She had to wash twice before it all came off. Standing, she patted her face dry, and looked at herself. She was back. Drats!
"I don't know why you wear all that stuff on your face. You don't need it," the brunette told her, smiling.
Daria nodded and moved away. It wouldn't do to get too friendly with anyone. When she disappeared they might start asking about her.
She wandered toward a group of women who waited to be escorted to the transfer rooms. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and thought about sleep. When she made it to one of the Ambassadors' quarters she was going to sleep for twenty-four hours. Maybe longer. A hand shaking her shoulder brought her back to awareness. She opened her eyes and saw a small brunette smiling at her.
"It's time to go," she said with a smile.
"Oh, thank you." Daria followed the others out the door and down the corridor to a transfer room. She and five other women stepped onto the transfer plates. For a moment, she felt dizzy and disoriented, then the feeling faded as she rematerialized on the starship. She stumbled as she left the transfer plate and a huge warrior reached out and caught her. She smiled at him and he held her until she was steady on her feet before releasing her. His eyes slid slowly down her body then back up, and he grinned. She frowned at him. Men!
"You have beautiful eyes, female." He ran his knuckles over her cheek and smiled. "The same shade as the wolfens' on Zarronia."
A shiver of feminine awareness slid along her spine as he spoke and her mind went blank. The Zarronians were unbelievable. They had everything. Great bodies, gorgeous faces, and a level of sensuality that was nearly impossible to resist. To top it all off when they looked at a woman every ounce of their attention focused on her. She shivered aga
in and forced herself to resist the need to rub herself against him and moan with pleasure.
"You're not so bad yourself, sweetie-pie." She smiled and stepped back when the warrior stepped toward her. Even as a child, people gave her startled looks the first time they heard the whiskey-smooth, low tones she'd inherited from her mother. Grinning, she swung around and moved away in a hip swinging saunter. Too bad this was the only time she'd get to flirt with one of these huge warriors. She'd made it her number one rule to avoid them after her tour of the spaceship. Something about them made her want to throw caution to the wind and get naked and dirty with one of them. A reaction that puzzled her as she'd sworn off men in favor of her career a long time ago. She glanced back at the warrior, saw him watching her walk away, and hurried to catch up to the other women.
In the corridor another Zarronian warrior told them to follow him. She moved to the end of the line and trailed behind. When they reached a place where two corridors intersected, she stepped into the other corridor and hurried away, holding her breath and praying she wouldn't run into anyone.
Four corridors later she came to what appeared to be a dead end. She waved her hand over a small dot on the wall and two hidden doors slid open revealing an elevator. She entered it and repeated the words Madami Valan had spoken and felt her empty stomach jolt as the elevator began to move. Crossing her fingers, she hoped when the doors opened the corridor would be empty. Her luck held and she left the elevator, scanning the nameplates on the doors she passed. The first one said 'Commander Valanson'. Frightened it would open and she'd be caught she hurried by it, tripped and bumped into the wall, making a loud thumping noise.
She caught her balance and ran to the next door. The nameplate was blank. She ran her hand over the mechanism and slipped through the doors before they opened completely. The interior was luxuriously appointed and appeared vacant. Several deep couches in a smooth emerald leather sat around the room with strategically placed tables. A deep ivory carpet covered the living room ending at the kitchen area where the flooring changed to a light colored wood.
She moved through the quarters and checked out the two bedrooms. In both of them she opened the closet doors and breathed a sigh of relief when she found them empty. Gleefully, she pulled the blond wig from her head, tossed it to the floor of the closet then shook her head and combed her fingers through the long strands.
Her stomach growled reminding her it was several days since she'd eaten. In the kitchen area, she studied the food processor, remembered what Madami Valan had shown her and began pushing buttons. A few seconds later, the door opened and a tray slid out. Standing at the counter she tasted the food and rolled her eyes in ecstasy as the unfamiliar flavors filled her mouth. She cleaned every crumb from the tray then placed it in the disposal unit.
Feeling better she showered, washed her hair, and towel dried it before she dropped onto the nearest bed. Her last thought before sleep took her was I made it.
***
"Commander Valanson, your sons are summoning you," the communications officer, Hugh Angusson, said as he swiveled around from his duty station.
Thorn Valanson frowned at the interruption then stalked to his chair on the bridge of his starship, the Invincible. His parents had forced him to bring his sons, Dane and Dev, on this journey. The boys were five and harder to handle than a wet wolfen. Working together, they were slowly, but surely, destroying his command—just as their mother, Naline, had destroyed his life. Earlier, after finding them in engineering, where he'd specifically forbidden them to explore, he'd confined them to his quarters.
He and his sons were strangers. After their birth and naming ceremony, he'd taken them to his parents then he'd left Zarronia on a three annual journey to explore the Almar Galaxy. One moon phase after he began his voyage, their mother had been executed for her crime of treason against the Zarronians. The news of her death had been a relief as it had freed him from their mating, and he'd sworn to never again trust a female or risk his heart.
He and his twin brother, Soren, had grown up with Naline even though she'd been a couple years older than them. She'd been Wrothian and the adopted daughter of their father's friend, Hugh Elofson. She'd been ravishingly beautiful but it had been a disguise that hid the treachery in her dark soul. After accepting him, she'd used his family's position and wealth to gather information and purchase weapons for their enemy, the Wrothians.
As bad as her betrayal had been for him, it paled in comparison to the concerns it had raised for his people. The knowledge he'd impregnated her without a true bonding taking place had every scientist on the planet scrambling for an answer. The first discovery was that the mixing of Zarronian and Wrothian DNA had changed them and there were now levels of mating with the Earth females.
The first four levels depended on the female’s DNA. At level one, a female could relieve a warrior's fever but she couldn’t bond with him or conceive. This was a female only a warrior on the verge of death would choose as fatherhood was coveted by every warrior. A level two female could relieve a warrior's fever and carry his sons but the bond between them was nearly non-existent. The mates could be away from each other and the fever could be controlled with ZL3 and meditation. Level four females were the most coveted as they were comparable to the old bonding between Zarronian warriors and females. The female could take a warrior's fever, bond with him and have his children. They needed to be together and could only be away from each other for one to two moon phases.
Level fives depended on the warrior's and the female's DNA. It occurred when a warrior with the right DNA, Thorn’s DNA in fact, met a level five female. This is what the scientists called a True Mate. The female triggered an intense mating response in the warrior and the bonding was so strong the mates were unable to be without each other for more than two cycles. There were three level five bonded couples on Zarronia.
Level six was the only ranking based solely on a warrior's DNA and it was a death sentence. The warrior could relieve his fever only with a level six female but one had never been found. Rumor had it there were several level six warriors on Zarronia.
Thorn was thankful Naline had been a level two and had relieved him of the worst of the fever. The symptoms he suffered now were manageable and with any luck at all he'd never meet a level five female. His True Mate.
He pushed the dark thoughts away, activated the communicator and sighed when Dane answered. Dane was the leader and anything he did, Dev did, as well.
"Father?" Dane's young voice sounded frightened and unsure.
"Yes, Dane."
"Father, we heard someone in the corridor. You said we were the only ones on this level." His voice was accusing.
"Our quarters are the only ones occupied, Dane" he said, impatiently. "It was probably a maintenance worker."
"Oh. Are you returning soon?" he asked.
The question was asked too casually and he knew they were up to another one of their tricks. For a fleeting moment, he regretted the time he'd missed with his sons. He hadn't been present when they'd learned to walk or talk. For the last two annuals, he'd visited them only when his father forced him to do so. "Dane, I want you and Dev to begin preparing lunch. I'll be there in five micro-units."
"Alright, Father." Dane spoke then deactivated the communicator abruptly
His parents wanted him to find a mate and provide a mother for his sons. He wasn't willing to do that but he wasn't sure what else he could do. He could hire someone to take care of them but even Soren had harassed him about doing something like that. The last time he'd seen his brother they'd gone to the gymnasium for a friendly training session that had turned into a battle. Soren had badgered him about his indifference towards Dane and Dev. He'd ignored him until he'd taken a swing at him and even then he'd ducked the punch and tried to walk away. Soren hadn't let him and it had ended with both of them lying on the floor, exhausted and bloody, and him admitting that he'd messed up where his sons were concerned.
Thorn
pulled his attention back to the present and motioned for his first-in-command, Dag Cameronson, to join him.
"Those two still giving you hell, Thorn?" Dag asked.
Thorn nodded. "They're worse now than when the journey began." Thorn realized Dag knew his sons better than he did as he was one of their mentors. He'd also stood by him when Naline was caught and he'd had been accused of conspiring with her. At first, he'd refused to accept her betrayal. Only after he'd been proven innocent, and she'd been proven guilty, had he accepted the truth and begun to hate her.
"Your sons remind me of you and Soren at that age," Dag said. "The two of you were constantly getting me into trouble."
One of Thorn's rare grins appeared on his face. "Not me, old friend. That was Soren."
Dag chuckled. It was an old joke between them. The brothers were both almost seven feet tall and massively built, with black hair and identical faces. Only their eyes were different. Thorn's eyes were a light grey while Soren's were the aqua color of their mother.
"They're only five. You can't expect them to obey your orders like the warriors do."
"I won't allow them to ignore my orders either." Rising, Thorn turned the bridge over to Dag and stalked away.
He ignored the warriors he passed as he strode to his quarters. Upon his arrival, two identical faces turned to stare at him as he entered and sat down at the table. A glass of stinkgoat milk sat next to a food tray piled high with stinkgoat cheese. He detested the food they'd chosen for him and they knew it.
"Don't you like the food, Father?" Dane asked, as Dev leaned forward, eagerly awaiting his response.
"No. You must have gotten me confused with your Uncle Soren. He's the one who likes milk and cheese." He kept his voice calm, puzzled when they frowned in disappointment as they silently communicated, What had they expected him to do? Throw them in the brig and torture them?
Sighing, he prepared another tray and the three of them ate in silence until Dev mentioned the noise they'd heard in the corridor.
Healed (The Found Book 3) Page 24
