Recon Marines II: Marine's Heiress, The

by Susan Kelley

  Callie reasoned the marines could kill them at will and weren’t likely to poison them after sharing their precious water. She followed Vin’s example. The food seemed a sour fruit and took a lot of chewing before it could be swallowed.

  The other women each took a small piece, but four year old Glory walked a few brave steps forward and held out her hand. The marines didn’t move back, though they appeared to lean away from the child. A tension as if they thought to flee grew around them. Roz knelt slowly, staring at Glory. He pulled a short wicked knife from his boot and cut a piece of the fruit. With a strange wariness he held it out to the child.

  Callie held her breath, while Glory walked closer to the marine. Sleep had left the child’s chestnut curls in tangles, and her eyes looked as large of coins. She took the fruit and put it in her mouth, all the time watched by the four marines.

  Glory’s nose crinkled at the tart taste, but then a large grin spread across her face. “Thank you, sir.”

  Roz stood quickly and retreated to his leader’s side.

  “Attend,” Joe snapped, his voice quiet but seeming to shout all the same. The marines all snapped to stiff stances, though Roz stole another glance at Glory. “Who are you?”

  Callie understood Yalo’s reaction to the men as she met Joe’s stare. She saw no emotions in his expression and an emptiness behind his eyes where a man’s soul should reside. But he had given her people food and water.

  “I’m Queen Callie Adell of Giroux.” Callie stepped forward and offered her hand in the way of interplanetary greeting. Joe ignored it. “Yalo Pangol, my personal guard. Riba Adell, minister of interplanetary diplomacy and her baby, Sally.”

  The three marines flanking Joe took an actual step back when Riba moved up beside Callie. Their leader held his ground, but he didn’t even glance toward the baby. Callie continued despite their odd behavior. “Acacia Kesol, my science advisor. Grace Fozell works as my trade minister and you’ve already met her daughter, Glory.”

  Joe stared at her when she finished. She stared back but a tiny shiver crawled up her spine as she met his emotionless gaze. The unnatural stillness of the marines and their rare beauty raised the spectra of Yalo’s warning. Were they human at all?

  * * * *

  “They’re civilians, Joe.” Vin frowned at the cruiser half-buried in the sand one hundred yards from their camp.

  “Did you see that little girl?” Roz also stared at the ship full of women.

  Joe understood the overwhelmed feelings of his men. Five women, a child and an infant. None of them had ever seen a child so close let alone a baby.

  “We should leave them here and go back to base,” Tar said. “Their emergency beacon should bring a rescue soon.”

  “More likely it will bring pirates in this sector,” Vin said.

  “They’ll freeze or starve before then,” Roz said. “Children need to eat regular meals.”

  “What by Fash do you know about children?” Tar snapped.

  “Enough,” Joe said quietly. The three marines stiffened to attention. “Why hasn’t someone come looking for them by now? Queen Callie Adell is someone important.”

  They all stood quietly for a moment, comfortable with the silence of the desert and each other. Joe knew his men would do what he decided no matter their own feelings on it. Following orders was all they knew.

  Joe gestured toward their wrecked ship sitting a half a mile from the women’s ship. “Do you forget why we’re here?”

  “We haven’t forgotten, sir,” Vin answered.

  “Then let’s take our lesson and be wary of these women and the trouble they carry with them. They may try to use us as others have. From what the lady guard said, they know who we are.”

  “Are we going to help them, sir?” Tar’s question was respectful, but his negative opinion of the idea was in his tone.

  “What was our duty, our purpose, before the powers corrupted it? How can we not help and know they’ll die or fall into the hands of thugs? What would members of the Rector Freemen do to that little girl?”

  Joe looked at his men and received their nods. He’d expected them. If they didn’t help these women then the principles they’d sacrificed everything for had been little more than space dreams.

  Chapter Two

  “They’re coming back,” Yalo said from her post near the open hatch.

  “Callie’s chest felt tight, but was it fear or hope? These marines, no matter how dangerous, had somehow survived.

  “They have to help us.” Riba’s words sounded like a prayer. Sally suckled greedily at Riba’s breast. Already the water and sparse food had restored her milk supply.

  “They will.” But Callie’s doubts grew. Why should the men help? The only thing she and her people had to offer the marines could be taken without their permission.

  Joe hopped in through the door, a leap of at least four feet he covered without any apparent effort on his part. Callie peered beyond his shoulder and saw his comrades spreading out in the barren landscape. To go where? Were they leaving?

  “Do you expect a response to your beacon, Lady Callie?” Joe sounded deferential, but his tone left no doubt he expected an answer.

  “I’m still hoping for a reply.”

  “Pirates might detect it before help arrives.”

  “Don’t try to frighten us with tales of space bandits.” Yalo moved over to stand beside Callie.

  “We killed two outlaw vessels before our crash.” If Joe took offense at Yalo’s words, he gave no indication with change of expression or tone.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Callie said. “We don’t have enough fuel to heat our vessel for the night. We’ll freeze if you don’t help us. Our water is gone except for what you gave us.”

  Joe’s sharp gaze swept the interior of their ship, jerking away from Riba and the baby. When his intense blue eyes again looked into Callie’s, she was struck again by the sheer beauty of his face.

  “We have a place three days travel from here with plentiful water and sufficient food.” Joe again gave Riba a quick glance. “It’s a difficult journey, but we might be able to take you there.”

  “Might?” Yalo asked before Callie could respond. “What difficulties?”

  Joe ignored Yalo and looked at Callie with the patience of a rock in his perfect posture.

  “How difficult?” But Callie had already made up her mind. They had no choice.

  “Two of my men died the first time we crossed. We know the land and dangers better now, but the risk is great.”

  “My guard thinks you and your men are the greatest danger.” Callie watched for any flicker of reaction.

  Joe’s gaze didn’t waver. “We could have killed you all before now. Or taken what the pirates will demand of you.”

  Callie nodded. “I need to discuss this with my staff.”

  Joe snapped to attention but then seemed to catch himself. He back up a step and gripped the ragged side of the doorway with one strong, tanned hand. He’d removed his camouflaged coverall. The short-sleeved shirt he wore clung to muscles across his chest and shoulders. A thick belt hugged his lean waist and emphasized his flat stomach. The tight pants sculpted his rear and everything else below his waist as if he wore a body stocking like a professional dancer.

  Callie raised her stare to meet his and realized he waited to get her attention. Hot blood rushed to her face.

  “You have the hot time to decide, Lady Callie. We must leave as soon as the sun starts its decline and make the most of the cooler hours.” Joe hopped down and walked over to join Vin.

  Callie had considered many men in her quest for a husband to rule beside her. None had compared in pure male beauty to any of the marines. None had the intimidating air of this Joe.

  The women argued quietly behind her except for Yalo who stared at the two marines also.

  “He’s right,” Yalo said. “They could have raped us, killed us and done whatever they wanted.”

  “You agree we should go
with them?”

  “What are our choices? The marine could be right about pirates even if we weren’t going to freeze or starve.”

  Joe and Vin split up and soon disappeared into the shimmering haze of the desert. Already the ship’s floor heated, and the dry air sucked the moisture from mouth and nose.

  “How do they survive?”

  Yalo pulled Callie deeper into the interior of the ship and away from the open hatch. “They probably have the most updated technology available and all types of survival gear given only to the military. And we don’t know what genetic constructs they might possess to live in adverse conditions.”

  “Should I tell them someone is chasing us?” Callie’s mind flinched away from the image of the diplomatic escort cruiser they’d watched explode in a brilliant moment of horror. They’d never seen the ship or ships that had fired on them. Callie still wasn’t sure if the skill of her pilots had saved her and her staff or if their attackers wanted to capture them rather than kill them. Only the luck of a brief magnetic storm had helped their damaged ship elude their pursuers, but they hadn’t traveled far before they’d been forced to land on this planet. The brave men driving her ship had perished but saved their passengers.

  “Not yet,” Yalo advised. “When we get to this place with water will be soon enough.”

  “I don’t like being dishonest.”

  “Don’t even worry about it. It’s not as if you’re dealing with humans with souls or emotions. Laboratory creations aren’t going to suffer from hurt feelings.”

  “If they have no souls why are they offering their help?”

  Yalo shrugged. “Some kind of instinct or training to protect. We can use that.”

  Guilt tapped on Callie’s shoulders, but she would use Joe and the others to survive. And what if her enemies found out where they were? Should she warn Joe there might be a force the size of a small army hunting her?

  Sally burped loudly, and the women laughed. The women trusted her and she couldn’t let them down. Even if it meant putting these strange marines in mortal danger.

  * * * *

  “We’ll go with you.” Callie resisted the temptation to put conditions on the agreement. They depended on the mercy of the marines and had nothing to bargain.

  Joe gave a short nod. “You’ll need your sturdiest boots and shoes. The clothing you wear will have to do.”

  “We need to take along some other things.”

  Joe shook his head, before she finished speaking. “We can’t carry anything else but you.”

  “You won’t have to carry us.”

  “We will.”

  “But we’ll need more than one set of clothing. And what of the children? The baby needs changing several times per day.” Callie didn’t think the small pile of belongings they’d put together amounted to much. Two changes of simple clothing for everyone, their small supply of medicine and the few data packs they’d carried on their journey.

  “Your life or your clothing, Lady Callie,” Joe said.

  “Sir,” Riba said. “The baby must have linens and fresh clothing.”

  Sally cooed as if in answer and waved a tiny fist at her mother’s chin.

  Joe took a small step closer to Riba and stretched his neck to look at the baby. Riba had stripped the infant down to her diaper during the mid day heat. Joe’s jaw clenched in the largest display of emotion Callie had seen from him so far. Rib lifted Sally toward him.

  The marine’s eyes widened and he retreated with his palms out in a warding motion. “Take what you need for the … baby. Leave the rest and we’ll come back for it later.”

  He turned and hopped out of the door before anyone could answer. Callie stared after him. He seemed a little … unbalanced.

  Acacia giggled, and soon Grace joined her. Riba smiled and rubbed her head against Sally’s downy head. But Yalo looked at the empty hatch with a puzzled expression matching Callie’s feelings.

  “I think our lean, mean marine is afraid of babies,” Acacia managed around her laughter.

  Callie smiled because she couldn’t resist their merriment. Joe’s obvious discomfort around the baby didn’t amuse her. Why would anyone react so to something so harmless?

  * * * *

  “We’ll have to double or triple up tonight.” Only Tar grimaced at Joe’s words. “I don’t know how fast we’ll be able to move so go light on the water. Tar, take the point. Vin, cover the rear. Roz and I will take the flanks.”

  “Who will take the baby tonight?” Roz asked.

  “We’ll decide later,” Joe answered. None of them wanted to sleep with an infant. He’d been close enough to touch it and had smelled its strange odor.

  The women gathered in a small herd near their disabled ship. Lady Callie stood tall and proud while looking their way. The loose clothing she wore did little to conceal the swell of her hips or the generous roundness of her breasts. Damn him for noticing but how long since any of them had lain with a woman? A year? And those women had been paid to entertain them. Nothing like these women. Women such as they’d never even seen.

  “Find the easiest route, Tar, even if it costs us time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  An hour into their trip Joe knew they were in trouble. The women took small steps. They labored up the gentle inclines and breathed heavily of the dry air. Roz lifted the little girl again, swinging her up to his shoulders. The child laughed, an alien sound in the white sea of death they strode upon.

  The marines could have covered three times the distance in the same amount of time. They had to move faster if they wanted to reach the oasis before the hot hours on the morrow.

  “Joe.”

  Joe slowed to allow Callie to catch up to him. Only her soft, brown eyes showed above the white cloth she’d wrapped around her face but they sufficed to display her displeasure.

  “We can’t keep up this pace. Can’t we stop and rest.”

  “Not yet.” Joe searched for the words to explain, but the lady’s presence tangled his thoughts. His training didn’t include dealing with respectable civilians.

  “We’re going…” Callie stumbled into him, her words ending in a strangled cry.

  Joe cursed and slid his knife from his belt. He slashed at the cactus vine wrapping around Callie’s boot and up her calf. He hacked it off but not before it left several thorns in her footwear and pant leg.

  Callie squeezed his arm, her thin fingers digging into his muscles. She stared at the purple fluid leaking like blood from the sliced vine.

  “What is it?” Her breath brushed his face.

  Joe couldn’t think with her only a hand’s width from him. The cloth had dropped from her face and exposed her smooth, pale skin to the harsh sun. He looked away and kicked at the vine. “Cover your face.”

  He inwardly winced at his the harshness of his command. “The thorns are poison, one of the many dangers in the sands. You have your wish, my lady. We must stop and treat your injury.”

  * * * *

  Callie bit her lip as Joe pulled another of the barbed thorns from her calf. His hard gaze flicked up to her as a small whimper escaped her despite her attempt at stoicism.

  “One more,” he said in a voice she could only describe as a growl.

  The other marines dug shallow holes in the hot sand. Roz had spread a thin sheet of camouflage material on the ground so the women could rest. The wondrous cloth kept the heat of the burning sand at bay. Callie sat on Joe’s thin pack while he knelt with her bare foot cradled in his callused hand.

  Joe slid his other hand up her calf to the back of her knee. Little fissions of pleasure followed the path he traced and distracted her from her painful wounds. Her reaction shocked her but she couldn’t stop it. She sensed Joe’s displeasure though his hands moved gently on her leg. His warm breath feathered against her skin as he leaned close to find the tip of the last thorn. He used his thumb and the edge of a small knife to grip the barb.

  He lifted his head and met her gaze. Th
e pureness of blue in his eyes reminded her of rare, old Earth sapphires. She nearly missed the flicker of regret and her wonder at it was cut short when he tore the thorn from her leg.

  Callie shrieked and jerked her leg from his grip. She tumbled from her perch and landed on the burning sand. Joe lifted her quickly to her feet.

  “Sit.” He pushed her back to her seat on the pack. He pulled a small capped tin from one of the sacks attached to his belt.

  Yalo started toward them, but Callie waved her back.

  “I had to get the thorns out.” Joe didn’t look at her. “One of my men died from their poison when we first crossed.”

  Callie realized Joe meant to apologize in his short-worded rude way. “I know you had to do it. Thank you.”

  “I should have noticed it so you didn’t step on it. Now we’ll have to stay here and might not reach the waterhole tomorrow.” Joe rubbed some ointment from the small tin over the seeping punctures on her leg and then pulled a skinny roll of white cloth from the same pouch on his waist. His hands moved quick and sure, pulling the bandage tight without pinching. His thick hair begged to be tested for silkiness as he bent his head over his task.

  Callie squeezed her hands into fists as they moved toward him without her conscious thought. He finished and looked up, his clear gaze startling her anew with his intensity. He looked away and gestured toward his men.

  “We only have four field beds. You and I must decide how they’re shared.”

  “Four beds for eleven people?” Outrage flooded through Callie. The marines now had them trapped out in the desert and probably expected the women to give in with little protest. And Joe wanted her to help match them up?

  Joe’s predator gaze touched on her and then swept over the rest of her party. “The children might be a problem.”

  “A problem?” Callie lurched to her feet, trying to keep her bare foot out of the sand. She poked him in the chest with her finger and found him as movable as the marble walls of her royal home. “Get this straight, soldier! We’re not sharing any beds with you or your genetic-freak comrades. We’d rather die out here!”