Aquarian Awakenings - A Collective Saga Sci-Fi Romance

by Steve Tiffany

Chapter 7

  Nicole glanced around at the nearly empty room. The large marble hall seemed much different with most of the guests having returned to their ships or rooms for the night. The paper lanterns and colored lights sent dappled pools of shadow and stripes of color across the elegant floor. Moonlight streamed in through the tall open windows down one side of the room. Nicole led Jon towards the far wall, finding the door amongst the windows and heading out into the cool summer night.

  Nicole knew they were on a dangerous mission, but she could not help to be swept up in the swirling emotions of a midnight interlude. The flowers in the garden sent up an intoxicating aroma. The moon trickled a silvery glow across the world, edging the petals and leaves with brilliance. And Jon …

  She glanced up at the man at her side, and warmth flooded through her. He was all she could want in a man. His movements were sturdy and strong, and his eyes held a calm focus that nothing would deter. He matched her step, moving easily alongside her as if they had been together for years.

  A chill settled over her shoulders as she was reminded of the danger the night posed. The bartender was an old friend of hers; he might provide an extra blade in the coming fight. She glanced down the deserted path as they moved from the main gates and into the town proper. She did not see the Mercodians, but that was to be expected. She had no doubt that they were keeping track of her movements and would make their move once she was somewhere vulnerable.

  Somewhere like an empty bar.

  Up ahead, a local guard turned a corner and began walking down the quiet street toward the couple. Nicole cursed under her breath. If the guard recognized her, he might insist on accompanying the couple to provide protection. She did not want anything to dissuade the Mercodians from acting sooner rather than later.

  On impulse, she spun her back against the shop wall they were passing, pulling Jon hard against her. Jon moved with her on instinct, and his eyes followed hers toward the guard. He eased to the left, providing more cover.

  Nicole glanced sideways as the guard approached. He might still recognize her …

  Without thinking, she entwined her hand in Jon’s hair, pulling his head down to her neck. Jon didn’t need a second hint. He pressed fully against her, shielding her with his body, his arms sliding up against her back.

  Nicole’s world illuminated in a golden glow. It was if her soul had been hollow for her entire life, and it suddenly had been filled. She had not realized how empty she had been until this moment. If they could just stay this way, forever, without moving, without turning … just to be held in his arms …

  With an effort, Jon pulled back from her, his breath coming in deep draws. His eyes were smoky with desire, and his voice was rough. “I think the guard is gone, Nicole.”

  Nicole wanted nothing else than to pull Jon down against her again, and damn the Mercodians. Jon’s nearness was intoxicating. It took all of her willpower to nod in agreement, to slide her hand down his chest to put a little space between them.

  “Right, you are right,” she murmured.

  She took a deep, steadying breath, forcing herself to set one foot in front of the other, to move down to the bar. She needed her focus. She was not a schoolgirl out on her first date. She knew she must put this passion out of her thoughts … for now.

  The outside of the bar was nondescript – a dingy window which could not be seen through; a small, fading wooden sign with the name “AleHous”. Nicole pushed open the cracked door and waited in the doorway for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim interior.

  It looked as it always had. The grey bar to the left was fronted by a scattering of stools; the four booths on the right each held cracked plastic benches. The small stage up front presented faded plywood and a grand piano which had seen far better days.

  Mark looked up from the bar, and was it her imagination, but did his glance seem a shade more furtive, a hint ashamed? Then it was gone, and he was waving her over with a smile.

  “Welcome, welcome,” called the middle-aged man, the wrinkles on his weathered face showing the toll of his hard life. “The usual, I assume?”

  Jon nodded. “Two,” he agreed, a slur in his voice, half leaning over the bar. Nicole held in a smile. He certainly was doing his best to seem inoffensive. By the looks of him, he would barely make it over to the booth.

  Mark moved to the back of the bar for a moment, gathering the supplies, and then he was turning with a pair of tall, thin glasses sporting a dark purple concoction. “Enjoy!”

  Nicole took the two glasses from him and moved deeper into the bar, to the booth furthest from the door. She paused by the seat facing the door.

  “Why not sit next to me, so we can get to know each other better,” she murmured.

  He glanced at the door, then nodded, easing into the booth. He gave the table a nudge forward so that it settled against the far bench, giving them more room. She slid in next to him, setting the two drinks down before them.

  She raised her glass. She met his gaze –

  Despite all her training, the flickering shadows of the candles and the closeness of his warm breath brought her breath in deeper draws. Lingering tingles shimmered through her body from the passionate embrace they had shared.

  Her voice became husky, and it was no longer simply an act.

  “To our first night alone together.”

  His eyes grew smoky, and it was a moment before he clinked his glass against hers. He brought his glass to his lips, and she noted with satisfaction that he did not drink; only gave the appearance of doing so. She mimicked his actions. If Mark had indeed turned on her, drugging their drinks might be the first step in the evening’s adventures.

  She put her drink onto the table. “So, Jon, tell me about your childhood,” she whispered, running a finger along his arm.

  He shivered under her touch, and she knew that she should stop distracting him. She should play her part along a fine line. But it was only by staying in this tentative contact with him that she could resist the demanding urge to pull him against her, to wrap herself in the comforting embrace she knew so well.

  To, after all these long, desperate, lonely years, at last lose herself in the man she loved with all her heart.

  “My … childhood …” he ground out hoarsely. “It was idyllic. Serene and contented.”

  She blinked in surprise, momentarily shaken out of her tumultuous emotions. “What?”

  His gaze narrowed in concern. “Why, what had you heard?”

  She shook her head, regaining her ground. “Oh, nothing at all. Please, go on.”

  He eyed her for a moment, then nodded. “My parents had both done their stint in the military forces. My father had been a medic, my mother a front-line marine. I was an only child and had everything I could want in life. When it came time for me to choose the next step in my life, they were supportive of my desire to enlist.”

  She smiled, shaking her head in wonder. “A quiet childhood, parents who loved you, free of trauma or political games. Good for you, Jon. Good for you.”

  His gaze was steady on hers. “So I take it your childhood was less than ideal?”

  There was a movement at the door. Three burly figures strolled in, standing in the entryway while the door swung closed behind them. Mark’s eyes flitted nervously between the newcomers and the booth.

  Nicole stood, giving a long, languid stretch, her eyes moving to the piano. “Mark, I think I will sing us a song for the night. You missed my performance earlier.” She glanced down at Jon. “If you will accompany me?”

  “Of course,” he agreed, moving to his feet, walking with her the short distance to the stage. She slid her hand down his arm to catch at his fingers, pulling him with her to ease around behind the piano.

  She drew her eyes up to his, and strength coursed through her at the steady, determined look in his eyes.

  The corner of her mouth turned up in a wry smile. “I think our song should be Rhapsody in Orange. What do you thin
k?”

  His gaze did not leave hers. “I will follow wherever you lead.”

  There was a movement, and the three Mercodians took several steps into the center of the bar area, separating out to flank the width of the narrow room. The center one, more rugged than the other two, spoke up.

  “You know why we are here, Nicole. This is a business transaction. Let us get it over with.”

  Nicole glanced over at Mark, who was cowering against the far wall of the bar. Her voice was calm. “Business?”

  Mark winced. “I am sorry, Nicole,” he rasped.

  The Mercodian laughed. “Not sorry enough to turn down your fee,” he coldly pointed out.

  Nicole kept her voice even. “And who is it that paid your fee?” she asked lightly.

  The Mercodian shrugged. “While some of our clients want their name known throughout the galaxy, these particular individuals paid extra for discreetness.”

  Nicole raised an eyebrow. “They wanted to be discreet, and they hired Mercodians?”

  He grinned at that and gave a short bow. “I did not say they were smart,” he agreed. He drew his weapon, and the two men at his side matched his move. “And now, Nicole, I do recommend that you come quietly. While I was instructed to bring you in alive, I was not told to bring you in unharmed.” His grin grew toothy. “And Caleb was a dear friend of mine.”

  The man to his right snarled. “She is the one who killed Caleb?” His gun lifted, and Nicole barely had time to duck beneath the piano before a blast blew a hole in the wall behind her.

  Jon was crouched by her side; his gun was in his hand. He bent under the piano and fired. A loud retort echoed through the room. The smaller Mercodian was thrown back against the bar, a chunk of his arm missing. His howls of pain filled the room.

  The remaining two Mercodians dove for cover, and Nicole’s shot barely missed the lead man’s chest as he tucked behind a bar stool.

  A heavy blast came from the left, slamming into the piano, sending shrapnel of wire and timber flying in all directions. Jon threw himself over Nicole, shielding her with his body as the splintered rain came down on their heads.

  The heavy Mercodian’s voice shot out in anger. “Alive, you fool!” he reminded his fellow.

  The door to the bar burst open. Richard and Stephen charged into the room, two sharp blasts stunning the Mercodians into unconsciousness. Behind them, Ian and Sean rushed in, their guns sweeping the room and coming to rest on Mark.

  Sean’s voice called out in Hun. “Six.”

  Ian took a careful step toward Mark. “Five.”

  Stephen strode forward to kneel behind the Mercodian sprawled face-down by the booth. “Four.” He jammed his gun into the small of the mercenary’s back.

  Richard stood over the lead Mercodian. “Three.” He reached for the restraining ties at his belt with his left hand.

  Jon’s voice came from close at her side. “Two.” He then blinked as if in surprise.

  Nicole knew she should speak, knew that it was her turn in the sequence to let them know she was all right. But her tongue was heavy, and the world was weaving in and out of focus. She looked down and saw to her surprise that a coiled, silver spring was implanted deep into her chest. Crimson blood was slowly bubbling up around the wound.

  Jon’s eyes swung down to meet hers. His voice called out, sharp with urgency.

  “Nicole is hit!”