by Celeste Raye
That rod that she wanted inside of her so badly.
His hands divested her of her clothing, and Lornia’s hands worked equally fast to remove his garments. They fell to the bed, and his mouth trailed across her flesh, consuming her nipples and then moving lower. His tongue found her, clit that pulsing ridge of flesh that nestled right at the top of her hood. Her fingers clutched at his hair and her hips arched and her ass shook as she bucked wildly, her cries locking behind her clamped-together lips.
His mouth teased her close to the edge of an orgasm, and she whispered, “No, not yet. Please. I want you inside of me.”
He came up, one hand moving across his mouth. His other hand guided his thick and long staff to her center. Her juices coated that member of his, and then he was inside her. Her inner walls spread and took him in and her moan broke over her lips and then was lost in the corners of his mouth as he kissed her again, that time so passionately that she lost all her breath.
Her body reacted and oils, slick and hot, spilled from her core and coated his dick. It slid inside and then out of her body as her walls began to spasm and more juices spurted from her body.
His low growl rang through the aftershocks that took over her body, and her legs went around his waist as he went first rigid, and then loose, his body curling up and over hers as his dick twitched and pulsed inside her tunnel.
They lay tangled together, not moving or speaking for a long time. Finally, he rolled away from her and reached for her, but she sat up, her hair spilling over her shoulders.
She said, “I know you believe I carried the weapon out of Tralam. I did. But what you may not know is how.”
He said, “We assumed it was something we could not look at, given what you had said to us.”
She began to weep. She could not help it. Everything she felt was too big and too frightening. She was too inexperienced in the nuances now to speak any way but plainly.
“I did not carry it out, and you are looking at the weapon right now. I am the weapon. It is me. I am the weapon that Tralam protected.”
Chapter 12:
Drake could not believe what he had just heard. He could not have heard what he had thought that he had.
He stuttered out, “You? Wait. No. The weapon can’t be you.”
No, it couldn’t be.”
She wiped her eyes with one shaking hand. Her eyes filled again as soon as she had wiped those tears and he reached for her, pulling her into his arms and holding her slender body against his broad chest. She choked out, “It was not always so, but it is now. I’m both the weapon, and the rest of the machine. The part of the machine that will force me back to the prison that was Tralam should I be used as the weapon. You see, he thought, as did the race who created the weapon originally, that the weapon could never be left in a place where it might be used by those without good cause to arm it.”
Drake could not comprehend what he was hearing. “Slow down, okay?” God, she felt so good in his arms, and she was telling him the truth, that he was sure of, but there was a story there, and he had to know what it was.
She took a deep breath. He wrapped his arms around her more firmly, pulling her into his lap. Her bottom bumped against his now flaccid member, and he held his breath, willing it to stay limp so his head would remain clear. He said, “Start at the beginning.”
“I’m an Eldern.”
He didn’t know the word. He frowned and asked, “Is there…is there a word for that in my language?”
She shook her head. Her fragrant hair brushed against his cheek. He said, “All right. Is that the name of your race or your tribe?”
“My race. We did not have tribes. We had one race, one people, one…” Her body heaved in his arms as she fetched in a long breath and released it again, clearly frustrated by the language barrier. “We could think together.”
Think together? He thought about that for a moment. “You mean your minds were all somehow linked?”
“Yes!” She looked relieved, but that expression changed to one of sorrow and loss. “But some did not have that. They were…private. So when the wars between my people, when my people began to war with each other, we were all, those who were linked, part of it if we wanted to be or not. So some of us decided to flee our home. War was not what we wanted, and so many did, and it battered at our minds. We turned our backs on our people, and we were wrong for that. We knew of Tralam. We had many advances in tech and the like and someone who knew the map codes because they had heard the legend centuries before.”
His eyes widened. “I see. That is what you meant when you said your race didn’t build the weapon.”
“Yes. The race that built it, they were far ahead of us, but when we arrived at Tralam, they were dead and gone. Tralam was ancient even then. Many eons old. Yet so advanced. So we stayed because I had the gift of making things grow, and others had gifts too. We made Tralam a home. All until the founders came and destroyed us.”
His hand found her silken hair and slid down those tresses, then gathered a long strand and wrapped it around his finger. “Franchine is revered in this universe. You must know that. They all are.”
“I do know. Some were decent enough. I do not think all of them knew what Franchine was, but many did, and helped him with what he did.”
He didn’t want to know. He didn’t. He had seen the heads of the founders on those spikes and in those chambers and if Franchine was capable of that, and to the very people that he was allied with, what would he have been willing to do to her, to her kind?
Lornia shifted again. Her smooth skin met his. The subtle perfume of her body rose between them, mingled with the scent of their sex. “He created beasts. He was building what was supposed to be a way to keep them alive. The machine began to fail, you see, and life was slowing down and fading for so many and so much there in Tralam. We agreed to let him try, not knowing what he would create and believing that he was working for the greater good. The greater good.” Her lips twisted in disgust. The beasts were abominations. He put minds of those who had died into them. So they had logic and reason. They had emotion. And they were cunning and warlike too.”
Drake wanted to throw up. Franchine had been a science maker such as had never been seen before or after. His work had been what had led him to go to other leaders and ask for that alliance that had become the Federation.
“Did we kill a human that day we killed that beast?”
“I do not know. They bred, and fast. Before we could figure out what he had done and stop him, they were already breeding and creating even worse things. Deadly things. The wars came, and we won, but most of us died in that war. Those of us who were left, and Franchine was one of them, retreated to the far end of the fortress, by the machine because the machine still had enough power to keep them at bay.”
“You sealed off sections of Tralam against them.”
She nodded and let her shoulders droop. “The gardens had been nearly destroyed. I can make things grow but the wars and the beasts were a lot to fight against, and the gardens went to seed and neglect while we were busy trying to survive. So we chose to cryo for a century each.
“I was in the cryo chamber when I heard them, my people, screaming in torment. I could not wake up.”
Her eyes wore a haunted expression. “I heard them. In my sleep. I thought it was the beasts. I thought that they had come through the seals and I thought that my race died to them. I did not know why I lived, and I tried to wake up, but I couldn’t. Not even when he began his experiments upon me.”
Drake’s urge to vomit faded. Now he was angry. His fingers rested on her jaw, and he tilted her head so that he could look into her downcast face. “What did he do to you?”
“He implanted me with the weapon and the machine’s innermost workings. I do not even know what all I am capable of. I just know that once you lead me into battle and order me to deploy my abilities, Tralam will form again. That is what the machine did. It made Tralams.”
She’d said Tralams. Plural. He noticed that, but he overlooked it at that moment because there was so much to say just then, and his horror at what had been done to her was overwhelming.
So was the fact that she, this stunning creature who tugged at his body in a way no other had ever been able to, was a weapon capable of massive amounts of destruction and death.
How when she was so soft and gentle? So warm and sweet?
And how could he command her to kill knowing that she was, despite everything else that she was, a being that he wanted in his life?
That she would be sent back to that prison if he did so?
Chapter 13:
They arrived at the Solaris system the next afternoon to find chaos and terror there.
People were running for their lives. Ships were lifting off the surface and fleeing the system, but the people on those ships had to know that there was nowhere to go. The Federation was closing in, and they had seen evidence of that as they had flown into the system.
Lornia stood on the ship’s bridge, staring down at the scorched surface of the planet as they docked. That war had already come was clear, and that the war being fought right then was one for survival. Those who had the means to flee were, and those without the means were killing those who did and stealing their ships.
Cowards.
The word came up in her mind and immediately she felt terrible for having thought it.
Faced with death, all races and species had the instinct to do whatever it would take to survive. She had seen members of her own race turn their backs on others in order to survive, and had she not fled herself, and willingly at that, when war had come to her system?
Yes, she had. She wanted to flee then too, but how could she when she was the weapon, and she had no choice or say in the matter?
Besides, she owed the Federation some payback. No, the ones she had been in contact with could never be paid back for what they had done and allowed to be done by their leader, but the ones who existed there in that space and time and universe were just as guilty of crimes equally horrific.
The ship landed. Drake said, “Stay close to me.”
She nodded but didn’t answer. She knew he was worried about her wellbeing. The last week that they had been on the ship had been spent making love and talking and for every good thing she discovered about him, she also uncovered one more thing that made her wonder where his ambitions ended and where his feelings for her began.
His hands lay on her back. She turned to face him, forcing a smile. His dark eyes drilled a gaze into hers. “I mean it, Lornia. It’s mass panic down there. You don’t look like anyone down there, and they may try to kill you for that and no other reason.”
She felt that sorrow coming back up inside her being. That was true, and she knew it. She also knew she could be deadlier than anyone who came at her. “I know.”
The bay doors opened. Drake took up a position in front of her. Lornia felt a smile come up as he did so. Blade said to Tara, his mate, “Stay behind me and remember to fire when needed.”
Tara said, “I have your back, Blade.”
Jessica and Talon needed no words. They had been fighting together for so long that they even moved as one person. Jenny and Marik also exited the ship, followed by Margie who was being protected by Jeval.
The streets were filled with rotting bodies. Lornia’s stomach churned as they passed them. Jenny cried softly as she bent to help one small human and then stood, shaking her head before moving onward. The sound of weapon fire rattled across the streets and from rooftops. The sound of ships flying away rang out and contrails blazed across the sky. It was overwhelming. Too many people. Too many buildings.
Too much death. Lornia shook as they kept walking, heading to a destination she had no idea of. The streets ran downhill, and she slipped on something. She looked down just as Drake caught her arm and held her upright. At her feet lay a body, one covered with the red welts of laser fire.
A mob raced toward them. They were intent on murder. Lornia shifted, her hands going to her weapons. She didn’t have to draw them because the mob moved past them, shouting some madness that made her ears ring.
Black smoke erupted from a building, and a man ran from it, clutching the remoters from a ship. A woman, her face bloody, fell into the street screaming that he was a thief and he had stolen the only way off the planet that her family had.
Lornia said, “We have to stop this!”
They did. There was no way this could be life. How could any being stand it!
Drake said, “We have to get to the communication building. From there we can broadcast to the people all across the planet. We have to get them to fight the Federation and stop fighting each other to try to escape.”
Lornia had to struggle to breathe as even more people raced by her. Their fear was so real and present that it tore at her soul. She knew why they were afraid, and she could understand, but that fear buffeted against her body and heart, made her legs go weak, and her skin rise up into gooseflesh.
The city was worse than she had thought from above. Buildings were burned out. The streets had buckled patches, and there were looters, people intent on having a good time while the whole world burned all around them, ramming heavy battering rams into windows in order to break them and take the goods displayed within.
Why?
Why would they care about things that they would die before they could use?
Lornia was confused by the looters, and even more confused by the people who simply stood there staring at the devastation around them, not moving or speaking or trying to even get out of the way.
Why were they not even trying to run or fight?
The world was ending, that was why, and they knew it. They had given up already. They had accepted death and all it would bring to them.
The building that Drake pulled her toward rose high in the sky. The peak of it was needle thin and she stared at the peak, her brow furrowing as she wondered just how they would get to it.
That answer was simple. The oldest of tech. A car that slid them to the top and into a room filled with blinking screens and commers that would broadcast whatever they said.
Drake pushed her into a corner and spoke. His body shielded her from the view of the people who had already been in the room and his eyes held no expression at all, something that frightened her more than anything else.
He said, “We have to tell them what you are. I have to. These people on this world are terrified and if this planet, which has been civilized for so long, can be thrown into such furor before the Federation even arrives, our cause is lost. We need them to fight. I need you to let them know we can.”
“You mean I can.” Her breath lifted her chest. She wanted to touch him. To reach out and hold him, to be held by him, but they had come to this, finally.
She was the weapon that would end this war. That would save this universe. And he was the one who would use her.
Could she still love and want him after that knowing that once he did, she would be sent back to Tralam?
She did not know.
She had not yet told him the rest of it though, and that alone told her that she still did not trust him.
She said, “I know. I will talk to them. Or better yet, I will show them.”
He swallowed hard. “You don’t have to do this. We can fight them back without you. All I need is for you to give them hope.”
His words gave her hope. Not hope that she would not have to do that thing that the weapon had been made for, the complete destruction of an enemy, but hope that they might have something.
That they might have had something.
She would be the weapon and the weapon belonged in Tralam. He had taken her from that place, yes, but that secret that she was keeping from him was the one thing that would make sure she was sent back to that prison, and she had no idea what she would find there when she arrived.
What she did know was that she had no idea if he would eve
r be able to find her again once she left his side, and if he did, if it would be too late for the thing that had started between them to thrive and have the chance it deserved.
The man seated at a comer panel said, “Whatever you are going to do, do it. They’re setting the street ablaze now, the fuckers. It’s like they want to kill us all before the Federation arrives in the hopes that they will somehow escape the larger pain.”
Lornia stepped forward. Their eyes locked. Drake looked away first. His voice was gruff. “Lornia, I will protect you.”
He could not protect her.
Nothing could protect her.
Lornia stepped to the commers. The people working the commers zoomed in on her face and form. She swallowed hard and then lifted her head.
She began to speak. “My name is Lornia. I’m an Eldren. What you call a Speaker. I have come from behind the door to help you defeat the scourge known as the Federation.”
Then she let the weapon take over.
Her skin retreated. Her eyes got larger and more luminous. The chambers of her heart came into view, skipping and whirling. She intoned, “I will kill those who you fear, but I must ask you to stop killing each other. If you wish my protection, then you must show me that you are worth saving. What I saw in your streets does not make me want to help you. All I see is cowardice and death. Is that worth saving?”
Drake drew close to the commers. Lornia watched as he did. The people out on the streets listening to her words had gone still. The looters had stopped breaking windows. Some dropped the things that they were carrying to the street and looked about themselves with confusion and clarity warring for dominance on their faces.
Lornia spoke again. “I know sacrifice. To do what must be done, I must sacrifice myself. For you. I do not know you. I do not trust you. I have no reason to do it other than the fact that I am a weapon built to do just that. My sacrifice will save you. But I will not do that, give my life for yours, if I feel that yours are not worth saving.”
