The interior of the ship was oddly cluttered. Very inefficient, to his thinking. The stench of death permeated the air. Never a good sign. Two more from security went in to do the follow-up sweep behind the other team, which is when Petr stepped into the craft. He had to keep his head bent slightly while moving. At the joints between sections, he practically had to fold himself in half to get through.
A very inefficient design, indeed. He shook his head, only to freeze a moment later at the sound of blaster fire. But what rocked him to his core was the feminine scream. It cut straight to the protective center of his being and had him racing through the craft in the direction it continued to come from.
Two of the first security team were down, dead. One of the men Petr had followed in was holding a blaster pointed at the head of a hysterical woman. Pushing the weapon down, Petr ordered him to move into a position to watch the one direction and had the other man look at the direction they had come from.
He then crouched down before the woman. She still cried, the tears pouring freely over her cheeks, but her screams had calmed to whimpers of an emotional agony that had her arms locked around her chest while she rocked back and forth. “We are not here to harm you,” he said in his most gentle voice.
She flinched, and the whimpering grew louder. The rocking movement had ceased, but now she shivered as if freezing.
Going with instinct, Petr undid his uniform jacket and shrugged it off. In slow, smooth movements he wrapped it around her shoulders, keeping a watchful eye on her should she feel the need to strike out at the unknown. Then he held out a hand to her, palm up, and waited.
Chapter Two
Samantha was shaking. First Dillon lost his ever-loving mind, but then these huge men boarded their craft. No, that wasn’t right. She looked up into the eyes of the man that had knelt before her. She knew that two men had taken off after Dillon while one held a weapon at her head, but this man was different. He was a leader, if the way the others bowed to him was any indication. She didn’t understand what he was saying. His words made no sense at all to her but then he said something else. It sounded a bit like medical only with a thick accent, like a combination of Italian and Latin, melodic and beautiful. Her teeth were chattering, but the jacket that he wrapped around her was starting to chase the chill from her body.
His scent surrounded her, affecting Sam in a way she was so uncertain about. “Samantha,” she said, pointing to herself. “Doctor Samantha Henry, United States, Earth?” She saw the confusion on his face, his very handsome and striking face. His eyes were a bright, vibrant green and his hair was white blond and military short.
She looked just past him then and saw the men being carried from the decking of her ship. “Oh God. He’s l-lost his mind,” she stammered, the shaking once more taking hold. Shock, she realized. “Dillon. He was going mad before but now he’s completely lost it.” God, why was she trying to tell him? She tried in Italian, the same words. She tried the other languages she knew and to no effect. “How do I communicate to you when we don’t speak the same language?” She leaned her head back against the wall of the craft, hitting her head a couple of times, tears flowing freely down her face.
She’d seen the damage, the skeletons of the remainder of her crew, and knew that this was more than crossing into an inhabited galaxy. This was her lost to time. She looked up at the console and asked the computer, “Computer, what is the date?” She didn’t know if the thing had enough power to tell her or not, but she had to try. She had to know what she was facing, aside from men who were practically giants to her.
When the screens that had been flickering went black, she rested her head against the wall and cast her gaze to the man before her. He looked kind and gentle as he watched her with care. Sam knew, however, from the time around SEALs and Rangers that while he might look soft he was probably deadly as well. He had that look to him, the look of a predator, of a man that could and would kill if the situation called for it.
He tipped his head slightly, his expression telling her he was trying to figure something out. Suddenly the two guards close by with their weapons both jerked to face the same direction, on full alert. A woman all in white, with a large case, said something in a tone that had the men looking to the one before her. A nod from him had the weapons lowering.
The woman came in closer to Sam, going off in the language the man had spoken in such a way that Sam was pretty sure she was telling the guy off. He didn’t seem bothered by it. Vaguely amused, but otherwise unaffected. He said something to the woman that had her attention on Sam. Out came some device that reminded Sam of the inoculation guns back home. A sharp jab, and Sam felt woozy.
“You could have checked her over before sticking her, Doctor.” The man’s words suddenly made sense even though the situation didn’t.
“It’s more efficient if I can speak to the patient, Admiral. I find it limits the amount of time I have to uselessly gesture in a foolish attempt to make my meaning known.”
“I can understand you.” Sam touched the place where the woman had jabbed her. “Subdermal translators? How is that possible? The technology wasn’t anywhere close to being put into production.” She looked from the man, the admiral, to the doctor and back again. “I’m Doctor Samantha Henry. The former commander of our vessel, he killed those men. He’s lost his mind.” She didn’t know if the man who had given her the jacket had understood her or not earlier when she’d spoken to him. “Where am I? When am I?” She had a feeling it was the when part that was going to be the hardest to get used to.
“You’re safe,” he told her. “The rest we will have to figure out since we have no idea where you came from, let alone when. First let’s get you to safety, where the impatient doctor can give you a full examination while the security team continues to search for your commander.” Standing, he again held out a hand to her and waited.
Sam reached out and put her shaking hand into his. “Haven’t you heard that doctors are the worst patients?” She was lifted easily to her feet, which shouldn’t have surprised her with as large as he was, but it did all the same. She didn’t stay on her feet long. Her legs had been unused for far too long and were now filled with pins and needles, making her wince. “Crapballs, I hate pins and needles,” she muttered, then gasped when the man lifted her into his arms. “Holy balls, you are big.” Strong, no, what the fa-hell was she thinking right now? She couldn’t be thinking of how good he smelled. There was also no way in hell she was admiring how easily he picked her up. No, wasn’t possible. Maybe she was still trapped in the nightmares of cryo-sleep? Yes, that made more sense than her being in the arms of an alien, her friends all dead, and the one left alive completely fucking nuts. “You’ll find him, right? I don’t know why he killed them.” She lay her head on his shoulder. God, she had to be dreaming because it was far too easy to let herself trust this man, to close her eyes while he held her.
“We’ll find him, and he’ll pay for his crimes.” The admiral carried her easily through her ship, though she had to admit it was mildly amusing to watch him scrunch up to get through the doorways between sections. Especially since he was also trying not to drop her in the process. He shot her a look, one of his pale eyebrows lifting. “You are amused by something, Doctor Samantha Henry?”
She shook her head. “I have got to be dreaming.” When they exited her craft, she looked back and bit back a sob. “Oh God,” she whispered in horror, all traces of amusement gone as she realized that she wasn’t dreaming. They were in a massive landing bay. The place was huge and would have easily fit her original ship in it without it touching a wall. She pressed her face into the curve of his neck and found herself whispering for just him, “I’m from the year two thousand fifteen, from Earth in the Milky Way Galaxy. I’m sure that you probably know it as something else.” She didn’t try to stop the hot tears that fell down her cheeks. “Although by now my galaxy is likely dead, merged with the Andromeda Galaxy.” The ship she had been on had taken s
ubstantial damage. The NASA placard was still on the side, duller now, the whole ship pockmarked and aged. “I have no home.” She had known that the mission would take her from home for a long time, but she would have been able to go back. There was no going back from this.
He came to a stop and she saw through her tears that he waved the doctor and another security officer forward. When they were alone, he carried her into what she could only figure out to be a storage space. Suddenly he sat down, and she found herself perched on his muscular thighs. “We will find out what has happened to you and your ship. I know this situation must be extremely disturbing for you. This is not a place you know, or even understand, but you are welcome here. Take each moment as it comes, Doctor. Don’t get ahead of yourself in the search for answers that may never come to you. Do you understand what I am saying?”
She nodded and pulled back to look up at him. “I do.” She found herself watching him as he watched her. “Thank you. For being the one to take me. I’m not sure I would have felt as comfortable with anyone else.” She felt her eyes go wide. Had she actually said that aloud? “I mean.” Crap, what did she mean? She was nine kinds of lost right now and oddly enough the only thing she found she wanted to cling to was this mountain of a man that was holding her now and being as patient as a parent would be with a child. “I hope your tech guys or gals will be able to pull enough information from the computers to at least give us an idea of where I’m from?” If they knew where Earth was, and maybe if it was still there… Maybe her people had advanced enough that she would be able to communicate with them? It was a hope, at least. “Thank you for ducking in here. I hate for people to see me cry.” She snuggled up close to him again. What the fa-hell was going on with her? She wasn’t a snuggler. She wasn’t a clinger, either, but with this man she was. “You smell so good.” What. The. Fa-chuck? She had lost her mind. That was the only explanation. She didn’t just tell men that they smelled good and she certainly didn’t rub against them like a freaking cat in heat. But he did. He smelled amazing. It was almost as if an olfactory nerve inside of her brain had turned on and his scent called to her, and worse yet, made her wet. Holy. Hell.
“That’s good … that you’re comfortable with me,” he said, his voice a rumble of sound under her ear. “If you’re feeling up to it we should get you to medical. You may require some protection against what we are naturally immune to. And it looks like you were in there for a long time. You need to let the doctor check you.”
She nodded and her mind started to go through all that could have been damaged inside of her during cryo-sleep. “There are some tests that I’m sure your doctors will want to run. And they will probably want to make sure that I’m not dangerous to any of you. Crapballs, wait. You. God what if I do have some kind of space fungus or something and now, because you’re so nice, you have it, too? I’m so sorry. I should try to walk.” Even if she didn’t want to move away from him. She had no flipping clue what the hell was happening inside of her own mind and body, but one thing she did know was she wanted to be close to him. “And please, call me Samantha or Sam? If we’re going to be in isolation with a space fungus together you should really call me by my name, right? And what is your name?” It hit her that fast that he hadn’t given her his name.
“I am Petr van Jahnsen. Call me Petr,” he told her. “And the doctors will do anything that is necessary. If I have to be treated for something, so be it. You will not be walking.” Standing with her in his arms again, he made for the door and out into the passage.
She snuggled in close to him again when he tightened his arms around her. “Petr. It’s nice to meet you.” She once more whispered her words for him and him alone. “Thank you. For carrying me. For everything.” She was grateful for him being there and holding her.
“You are welcome, Samantha.” His unique accent turned her name into something sensual. It may have been all in her mind, but she wasn’t so sure. He carried her into what she could only equate to an elevator. It was voice activated and extremely smooth. So smooth she was sure they hadn’t moved at all until he stepped out into a very different section of the ship. He went through a few more corridors until they reached what she assumed was medical from the layout. The equipment was unfamiliar, but the beds laid up like those in an emergency room gave her a sense of familiarity.
“About time, Admiral. I was preparing to issue a ship-wide bulletin for you both,” the same doctor from before said, coming up to them. Petr set her down onto one of the beds, then stepped to the side. The doctor moved in with a scanner of some sort she held up in front of Sam’s chest.
Sam’s heart raced, fear clogging her throat again. But he was there. In just an instant he was reaching out for her hand, as if he knew she was on the edge of a full-blown freak-out. She looked over at him and squeezed his hand. “What is that you have?” she asked the doctor. “This is a medical bay, I’m taking it? This ship has to be massive.” She directed that part to Petr. “So, have I contracted some kind of space fungus and have to be put into isolation?” she asked the too-quiet doctor.
The doctor appeared confused. Petr fortunately helped to resolve the issue. “She’s concerned she might have some disease that you are unable to provide a vaccination against.”
Now the doctor snorted and shook her head. “Hardly. You are showing severe signs of long-term space travel in less than ideal conditions. Whoever came up with your mode of space travel should be thrown out an airlock. You are underweight and malnourished, both of which will be easy enough to fix in the days to come. You have lost muscle and bone mass that we will put you on a treatment for to help rebuild both. Some exercise will assist in a few days once we’ve reversed the worst of the damage. No diseases that any of our people need to worry about, but we’ll have to update all your inoculations so that you aren’t a target of anything our worlds might get you with. Lie back, I need to do a full biometric scan for the records. Then we’ll do a full panel workup and get you some shots.” She turned to Petr. “She will need to rest for a few days while her body adjusts to proper atmospheric conditions, Admiral, but she will be okay in time.”
“Good news,” Petr said, squeezing her fingers gently.
“Excellent news.” Sam put in her two cents. She leaned back on the bed with a bit of help from Petr. She looked to him, though, and the hand she still held. She looked then to the doctor and with a shaky voice asked, “Do I have to let him go?” She didn’t want to. She wanted to keep hold of Petr. He was the only thing keeping her from losing her shit in this place. She was pretty freaking proud of herself so far, but she was sure if he let go of her she wouldn’t be able to keep that pride because she would likely freak out and they would have to sedate her. Then Sam did something she never did, well, aside from the cuddling. She brought his hand to her cheek and rubbed his knuckles along her jaw. His touch soothed her. She knew when he realized that, because he stroked his thumb over her cheek. His touch was like his scent, intoxicating.
The doctor pursed her lips. “You will need to let him go, for a moment. We will start at the top and work down. You can hold on until the scanner reaches your elbow, and then let go until it passes your hand.” She waved in another individual, who wheeled in the equipment the doctor apparently wanted. It reminded Sam of a horseshoe in its shape. The shoe was lowered to hover in an arch over her, just above her head. The doctor pulled out what Sam guessed was a controller from her pocket, and the piece of equipment lit up, giving off a soft, low-grade hum as it began to move.
Sam looked to Petr and felt panic rising. She clung to his hand, releasing him when the machine was over her arm. She was shaking by the time he slipped his hand back into hers. Holy Jesus what the fa-hell was she doing? She was leaning on the freaking commander of this vessel. He was far more important than to waste his time close to her and keeping her safe. Right? “Why?” She whispered that question to Petr alone. “Why are you staying with me?” Even though she hadn’t actually given the poor man a ch
ance to escape. The doctor was probably going to knock her butt out so that the man could get away from her.
He shook his head, his gaze moving to the doctor, then back to her. “Later,” he said quietly. Giving her fingers another squeeze, he stroked his free hand up and down her lower arm.
The machine shut off, and the doctor’s assistant moved it off to the side. “No surprises here. You will need some specific nutrient supplements for the next while. Some of your levels are dangerously low. How long were you in that craft?”
“Yet to be determined, Doctor,” Petr answered for Sam. “We are still contending with her crewmate. Once he’s been subdued, we’ll pull all the data we can to find some answers to everyone’s questions. Until then, please attend to her so she might get some sleep today.”
The doctor sniffed slightly and turned to her assistant. A few moments after the young man left the large medical area, he returned with a tray. “Sit up, please.” The doctor lifted another one of those inoculation guns and slotted one of six capsules from the tray into place.
Sam sat up at the doctor’s insistence and looked to Petr. “If your ship has WiFi I should be able to remotely download everything.” She winced at the first shot and glared at the doctor. “You enjoyed that. Why?” She didn’t know why this woman was pissed at her, but she was. Sam might be in another time, but she knew a pissed off and jealous woman when she saw one. Holy crap, maybe the doctor and Petr were a thing? Maybe that was why she was so pissy? “Crap, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She couldn’t let go of Petr. Oh, she tried. She told herself to release him, but her body wasn’t cooperating.
Petr was frowning at her, and she read the concern in his eyes. He laced their fingers together, rubbing his thumb slowly over her knuckles. Sam endured five more shots from the doctor before she was summarily dismissed. Shaking his head, Petr picked her up once more and carried her out of the medical bay. “What was that all about?” he asked her quietly while he walked through the corridors. She assumed they were headed back the way they’d come, but she couldn’t be sure.
Petr's Mate Page 2
