Catherine released her hold on the pilot with such distaste and so abruptly Blackwood staggered backward. "Don't ever mistake the vow I just voiced for a mere threat, or you will surely die before you ever face a Mallochon in battle."
Transfixed by the sight, Wulfe watched a shaken Blackwood make her humbled escape. Then, oh, then, anger filled him. He advanced on Catherine. "You forget your place, Commander!"
"Like bloody hell. I gave Blackwood an assignment, a direct order."
"Did it occur to you, Commander, that as captain, I may have pulled rank and given her a different assignment?"
Catherine's brow arched sharply upward. "Sir, yes, Sir. If the captain wishes, Sir, I'll go and retrieve the bloody wench for the captain. Are those the captain's wishes, Sir?"
Wulfe took a menacing step toward her, fully expecting her to back down. "Do not take that tone with me, Commander."
"Sir, yes, Sir." Hostility fairly crackled between them. "As the captain prefers, Sir."
"I repeat, Commander, you forget your place!" Enraged by her lack of fear, he practically saw red.
Catherine tilted her head way back, far enough to glare into his eyes. "No, I don't. For the first time in two days, I've finally remembered my place, and I'm acting accordingly. If you have a problem with that, live with it or do something about it. Your choice."
Her scent found him--or did he find the perfume?--and immediately accomplished what Blackwood's practiced attempts had failed to do. His entire body stood at rigid attention again. Struggling to ignore his pounding arousal, Wulfe baited her with the truth. "You have absolutely no idea what you interrupted, Commander."
Catherine glanced down his body, grimaced before meeting his gaze again. "Oh, don't I?"
"None, whatsoever."
"I'd say I have--that is, you have--hard evidence to the contrary. I may not be a Fullblood Bellon like you, but even I know what that is. Stay away from my pilots, Captain."
Catherine turned her back--dared to turn her back--on him to walk away. She looked at him over her shoulder, a wicked grin on her exotic face. The green flecks in her amber eyes sizzled. "That would be the men as well as the women. Sir."
Wulfe roared. He reached for her with rage, found her with desire.
Chapter 10
CAT HELD HER breath. She moved one split second too late.
Before the breath left her lungs, Wulfe pulled her toward him, fitted them together with masterful precision. She read the transformations in his dark brown eyes. She'd seen the metamorphosis too many times to mistake the signs for anything else. Anger changed to desire then exploded into need, the driving need of Bellon mating lust shining clearly in his eyes.
Cat's body defied her mind's direct order and instinctively melted against his.
"I will have you. Now." Wulfe growled the words, deep and dangerous, his voice roughened by the emotions compelling him.
Every instinct in her demanded she give in. Cat stiffened against the man she called husband. She couldn't allow herself that luxury. The pain of denial seared her nerve endings with excruciating retaliation. "Not like this, you won't."
Wulfe's laugh rumbled up from deep within his broad chest. His hot mouth took command of hers, proved how utterly wrong she could be. His hungry besiegement shredded the remnants of her restraint and control. Fire sizzled through her veins. Her body burned with the inherent response to her lifemate, her soul mate.
"Do not allow the uniform to fool you, Catherine."
"Wh-what?" she breathed the question.
"Beneath this civilized veneer of Corps uniform I am but one thing. A savage Bellon. A barbarian."
Cat's heart quivered--he felt the same, tasted the same, held her the same, sounded the same. Wulfe claimed her body with his big, strong hands. She nearly sobbed with the joy of it. She pressed against him, unable to get close enough.
A wild ravenous sound escaped from deep inside Wulfe and she trapped the call of his soul in her mouth, treasured the summons.
Cat's comm tag chirped, the sound small and insignificant, barely reaching her awareness. Her heart ignored the intrusion, but Corps-trained reasoning came to the fore. She groped for the blasted insignia with shaking fingers.
"Culver." Her voice came out so ragged she almost didn't recognize her own name. Worse, the physical war raging within her ravaged and tattered her emotions beyond all hope. "Hold message." Cat swallowed, regarded Wulfe with as calm a demeanor as she could dredge up. "Put me down."
She'd intended the words as a stern command, but to her embarrassment and dishonor, they came out almost as a soft plea.
Wulfe's dark eyes pinned her, studied her. His broad chest pumped in air. He loosened his hold, but only enough to let her slide down the front of his body. When her feet touched the deck, he kept her from collapsing into a heap. She steadied, locked her knees. Wulfe stepped back a pace or two, his breathing still heavy and quick. The glazed look of shock paled the normal dark bronze color of his face.
Still watching Wulfe for any sudden movements, maybe even hoping for one, Cat touched the tag on her collar with fingers that barely trembled this time. "Ready."
Seleen's voice, sibilant and feline, drove the wedge of normalcy firmly between them. `You asked to be notified when the Moon Maiden arrived. That vessel will be putting into Uhlein in approximately ten minutes. She's been assigned to level sixteen, docking ring beta.'
"Respond that the message has been received and that I'll meet her captain in the corresponding bay." Bless the Creator, Cass had finally arrived. For once, her sister's timing proved to be an asset. Without the interruption, she and Wulfe might have lost control. They would probably be rolling around on the deck, naked and sweaty and...blast Cass for getting here when she should!
`Aye, Commander. I will relay the message.'
Cat retreated to the exit, not taking her gaze from him. If she turned her back, Wulfe could take the act as an insult--or worse in this case, an invitation to continue what they'd started--and she felt woefully inadequate to either possibility right now. He watched her retreat, silent even when he reached out a hand toward her and then let his arm fall back to his side.
Expressions she recognized as loneliness and confused loss shadowed Wulfe's face, then vanished. Though she couldn't feel his emotions, Cat's heart contracted at the sight and felt battered and bruised, buried under the guilt of her omissions, the guilt of how she selfishly wanted him.
"Wait."
"I--no--I can't--I--"
"Catherine. You seem overwhelmed, as though tormented by some emotion. Guilt, perhaps. Why is this?"
Wulfe's accuracy left her nearly speechless. All she could do was shake her head.
"Yes," he countered, "and I believe I know the reasons."
"You do?" Cat managed to croak.
"Aye. You think of the man who fills your heart."
"Yes." Such bliss to state the truth!
"But there's more. You know my mate, don't you?"
"What?"
"I intend no disrespect to you or my mate. It is not my intention to dishonor you or your memories. I would take you as consort."
"You'd do what?!" Oh, that did it! The guilt vanished in a burst of outrage. Take her as consort, indeed! "Glory's Gate! What an egomaniacal male! What makes you think you have a mate? The fact that you'd make such a bloody good Lord?"
"No, but I do remember what this signifies." Wulfe reached beneath his shirt and pulled out his bonding chain.
Cat wanted to strangle herself with the bloody thing! Creator, how had she managed to forget that? Easy enough in retrospect. When he'd been unconscious, they'd had no inkling of his amnesia, and so had no reason to remove the chain. Once he awoke, the necklace had been the last bloody thing on her mind, or anyone else's.
Wulfe let go of the chain, reached back and pulled the thong from his hair to allow the strands to flow across his shoulders. "I know my mate lives because I have no mourning braid."
Why hadn't she fo
reseen this?
"Catherine?"
How to get around this? Logic. Wulfe detested cold Syllogian logic. "How do you expect your mate to react when you show up with a consort?"
"Is that an agreement?"
Wulfe's eagerness purged cold logic in a flash. "That was a question you haven't answered! Will your mate challenge me? Or will she slit my throat while I sleep? I know which I'd do!"
"I don't have the answers you seem to want."
"Didn't think so." Cat whirled and made her escape into the corridor. What else could she do? If she stayed, she'd never regain the backbone needed to keep from telling him the entire truth. Gods. She needed to find a new source of strength to protect Wulfe from himself.
That revelation haunted her while she checked in on the children and Fallon, and then again on the short cutter flight to the station. The subsequent crowded lift ride to Uhlein's beta-sixteen docking ring left her mind awhirl. Well, she'd asked herself what new disaster would strike, and she'd gotten an answer beyond any imaginings!
Really late now, Cat bustled across Uhlein's level sixteen bay. She spied an agitated Cass pacing in front of stacked cargo. Looking at Cass was like gazing into a mirror with a stubborn mind of its own. So much alike, but so different. Predawn light and evening twilight.
"Sister," Cass greeted. "I thought you'd changed your mind about meeting me."
"It took longer to get away than I thought it would."
"You haven't altered your plans?"
"No. I feel more strongly about getting Morgan and Garrett to safety than I did before." If anything, Morgan's near disaster of calling Wulfe `Father' while they'd been in the arboretum had only convinced her this must be done soon. She'd done her best to explain to Morgan why her father hadn't recognized her, but Cat had seen the confusion in the girl's eyes.
"Morgan and Garrett will leave with you, for their own safety and well-being. Morgan says she understands why she can't see her father, but she's too young to comprehend all the reasons. The enforced separation hurts her deeply."
Cat's throat closed against the pain and loss flaying at her. Just when she thought she'd break under the load, she felt Cass's arm around her waist, bolstering, encouraging.
"I'd wager my last credit Morgan is not the only one suffering from this estrangement," Cass responded in a subdued tone. "I'll protect the children with my life, as will my mate. He awaits us in his own ship, just beyond scanner range."
"I entrust them into your capable safekeeping." No one else would keep the children safer, but the thought of separation sent a chill through her.
Cass withdrew her arm. "How much does Wulfe know?"
Cat looked around the quiet bay, trying to rid herself of the uncomfortable feeling someone watched them. Nerves and guilt, she decided, and disgust with herself for harboring such weaknesses. "To all outward appearances, nothing, although I wonder if he's beginning to suspect some parts."
"If Wulfe realizes the truth after we've gone, he'll hunt me down with a vengeance for daring to take his children from him." Cass's mouth twisted into a grim smile. "He's not overly fond of me as it is. Kidnapping won't endear me any further. But first, he will have his reckoning with you, Sister. Bellons do not take kindly to deceptive mates."
"He'll be happy they're on their way to safety." Cat could only hope Wulfe would one day see the logic of all her deceptions, each intended to protect him and his children. He would understand, and even agree, Creator willing, but not until he remembered everything. She hoped to be around to see the day. Nora continued to assure her it would happen, but also maintained her insistence that Wulfe remember on his own.
Cass shrugged, not committing herself to an answer. "What safer way for Garrett and Morgan to be returned home but on a ship that not only can ghost the entire way, but can Seek other shrouded vessels? You must rest easy, Cat, for you are doing the right thing for the good of the children. We've finished offloading our cargo and only need to stow what's slated for us to take out. When will the children be here?"
"Fallon will bring them within the next half hour. I should go now, to lessen the chances of anyone seeing us together. The fewer people who know about this, the safer we'll all be."
"I'll be leaving for the Devil's Graveyard once I've delivered the children. Some unfinished business to complete."
"Take care, Sister. You'll be hard-pressed to find any friendly assistance in that far-flung sector of space."
"I'm not staying there any longer than necessary. Leave any messages for me on Bellona or Syllog, because no one besides family is to know of our visit to the Graveyard. I'll retrieve any communications as soon as we're out of that sector."
"The Creator guide and keep all of you, Cass."
"And you, Cat. Our times together are never long enough these days. To my surprise, I'm discovering I miss you."
Cat clasped Cass, forearm to forearm. "Now that we wish to spend time together, Sister Fate has other plans. Soon, though."
She spun away, hurried from the bay before she weakened and kept her children with her, endangering them and Wulfe.
WULFE WATCHED Catherine leave the Falchion's exercise room. He struggled to keep the newly realized truth from his face. By the gods, crazy as the thought seemed to him, he actually wanted this Earther! Not Blackwood or any of the other Bellon females around him, but Catherine.
He desired Catherine physically, of course, but wanted her in other, unexpected ways. He'd forego bedding any other female simply to be in the same room with Catherine, eat a meal, share a drink. Plan a future.
Gods! His phantom mate would have an opinion on that!
If those thoughts didn't create enough problems, Wulfe finally admitted to himself that he cared about Catherine. Now, if only he could figure out why. He cared more than he ever should, and knew his concern went deep enough to make himself dangerous to her. She attracted him with far more than her svelte little body. Her mind and soul seemed to call to him as well. How was this possible? What was it about this female that spoke to him, moved him so deeply that his very soul responded?
Wulfe's hand strayed to the chain around his neck. When he'd realized he wore a bonding chain, the discovery shocked him. He still couldn't put a name or face to the female who must wear the corresponding links, but when he removed the necklace, he felt absurdly naked and bereft and quickly refastened the chain. Somewhere, he had a mate. Who? Where? How could he forget a mate that seemingly bound him so?
He could demand answers of the people who'd known him the longest, but his admission would prick the pride of that mate, possibly even stain her sense of honor. It wouldn't do much for his, either.
He ran his fingers through his hair as though checking again for a braid. Aye, she lived. Why weren't he and his mate together? Had he ever felt as strongly about this ghostly mate as he seemed to feel about Catherine now? He assumed so, considering how naked he felt without the symbolic chain.
He didn't have any of the answers, but determination to find them drove him onward. He'd find them, on his own, as any Bellon would. First on his agenda, he'd see what Catherine intended to do aboard the space station once she met with this other captain. What did that captain mean to her?
The short trip to Uhlein after he changed into his uniform seemed to take forever, though he gained access to the docking ring in record time using priority override. Wulfe worked his way between rows of shipping drums, the hexagonal containers stacked two, three and four high. He covertly watched the woman who had filled his thoughts so recently. Catherine held a handcom, apparently doing an inventory of the supplies being readied for stowing aboard a vessel.
Wulfe scowled, waited for her to turn in his direction, puzzled by what he could see. Catherine looked taller, maybe four or five centimeters. Must be a trick of the unfamiliar copper-colored leathers she wore so well. She pocketed the handcom and began to pace, but she moved differently, too. Her smooth, graceful walk lacked the slight, uniquely defiant sway to her sw
eetly curved hips that he found so sensual.
Garesh! She'd cut the gossamer veil of her hair! But how, in such a short time? Now the red locks draped only to her trim waist, straighter than he'd ever seen, subdued to deep waves instead of the wild curls. The shorter length gave her hair the strange optical illusion of being darker. A shiny auburn, but not the mahogany silk that tempted him.
She turned to watch something. Wulfe shook his head distractedly. The overhead lights in the bay did weird things. Catherine's face, though gorgeous as always, lacked the certain delicate perfection he'd grown accustomed to. Wulfe couldn't believe his ears when she finally spoke--even her voice had altered.
"Sister, I thought you'd changed your mind about meeting me."
"It took longer to get away than I thought it would," a lushly familiar, husky voice answered.
Wulfe gripped the edge of a shipping drum. Much of the ensuing conversation eluded him. He'd lost his mind! Not-quite mirror images faced each other. His disbelieving gaze darted back and forth between the two women. Stunned by the resemblance, he simply stared--until some of their words slammed into his consciousness and demanded immediate attention.
"If Wulfe realizes the truth after we've gone, he'll hunt me down with a vengeance for daring to take his children from him. He's not overly fond of me as it is. Kidnapping won't endear me any further. But first, he will have his reckoning with you, Sister. Bellons do not take kindly to deceptive mates."
His children? His mate? Catherine? The black vortex that had been swirling around him now threatened to pull him in and down, sucked the air from his lungs. He reached blindly for more support. His children? The girl--Morgan--who had birthed her? Couldn't have been Catherine--too much Bellon blood.
Catherine was stealing his children! And taking them where? Vengeance? Catherine's sister had no idea! Righteous retribution! Neither of the females would survive their acts of treachery, he'd see to that!
And the other--Catherine's sibling--possessed shrouding capabilities as well as detection equipment. How? Only the Mallochons had the technology, except for what Space Corps had been able to discover from their purloined equipment. And as far as he knew no one had the technology to detect ghosting ships. Could they be Mallochon collaborators, traitors, the both of them? His mind screamed `yes' but his heart denied the prospect. Or did his manhood control his heart now?
Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3 Page 14
