by ML Guida
“What did the Confederation do?”
“We have been guarding your planet since then, and no Kamtrinian has been allowed to harm one hair on a human’s head.”
“You’re very loyal.”
“We took an oath to the Confederation. We live and die by it.”
She stirred her steamy macaroni. “I can see that. You remind me of the medieval knights that fought for chivalry and honor.”
“Try it,” he urged as he cut his steak.
She took a bite. The creamiest, cheesiest macaroni slid down her throat. Her rumbling stomach screamed for more. She ate three more big bites, then Anonghos’s teleicator buzzed.
“Anonghos,” he answered.
“This is Tryker. Is Damon’s mate with you?”
Hera dropped her spoon as guilt lumped in her throat.
“Yes, why?”
“Get her down here immediately.”
Hera jumped out of her seat and raced to sickbay, her heart pounding against her ribs like an out of control jackhammer. Tryker was waiting for her. Anonghos was right behind her, his hot breath on the back of her neck.
“Hurry, you need to touch him.”
She skidded to stop, gasping for breath. “What?”
“Tryker, what the devil are you talking about?”
“Watch!” Tryker grabbed Hera’s hand and hauled her into sickbay with Anonghos trailing behind her.
“Tryker, it was a coincidence!” She struggled to pull her hand back but nearly fell over when she reached Damon’s bed.
The same men who had walked in wearing the blue shirts stood back, concern and frustration filling their eyes. Spatters of blood were on their shirts.
Damon lay on his stomach, and although restrained, he was twisting and turning as if trying to break free. His back was cut open, and blood trickled down his side.
“I can’t close him. None of the sedatives are working,” Tryker said. “Touch him!”
Hera couldn’t move.
“Hera!” Anonghos yelled. “Touch him, or he’ll die.”
Blood leaked into a pool around his back, but it was the thing inside him that turned her stomach into a bubbling cauldron. The thing looked like a skinny octopus with a million legs that wound all through Damon’s body.
“What’s inside him?” She asked.
“It’s some kind of creature.” Tryker shook his head. “It’s so intertwined within him that it’s impossible to cut it out away.”
His arms and legs wiggled violently, pulling against the straps. Ignoring the terror pinching off her air and the tears blurring her eyes, she forced her shaking hand to move and touched the back of Damon’s calf.
He hissed, but the violent convulsions lessened, and he trembled as if he were cold.
“Don’t let go,” Tryker warned, as he hurried to the side of his bed. The other two men followed suit.
Hera refused to let go and waited for them to surgically remove the thing inside him, but they started to close him up.
“Great balls of fire, what are you doing?” She gasped. “You haven’t removed it.”
Tryker jerked his head. “Don’t you think I know that? The thing is wound around every major organ, nerve, and vein. It’s so intricate if I remove it, I’ll certainly either kill or maim Damon for life. Is that what you want?”
She cowed back, but still hung on to Damon. “No, but what do we do?”
“Hell if I know,” Tryker grumbled.
He and the two men quickly sewed Damon back together. Long, thick stitches marred Damon’s flesh. This time, Tryker brought her a chair. She held on to Damon’s cold hand as he lay twitching from pain.
A few minutes later, Anonghos came in with her yummy macaroni and cheese.
“I heated it up for you.” He glanced at Damon. “Thanks for trying to help him. He’s like a brother to me.”
His voice surprisingly choked. He turned on his heels and quickly exited the room.
She stared at her bowl. Hunger was the last thing on her mind. The Zalarians were all depending on her to save Damon, but his face was so pale, and he kept moaning in agony. Tryker had given him another sedative, but it didn’t seem to be working. He swore her touch was more effective than any sedative he possessed. They were all banking their buck on a nag. What would happen if he died?
Nevertheless, she had to try and save him. She held on to his hand, then on impulse, she lifted it to her lips and kissed his white knuckles. Unfortunately, nothing happened. This was ridiculous. Great Zeus, despite what happened on the bridge, she didn’t possess an ounce of healing power.
6
Damon clawed his way through the misery seizing his body. His heart beat so fast and so hard he thought any minute it would explode. For some reason, his dragon powers were restrained.
You’re my slave, and soon you’ll kill the captain. The foul voice gloated.
No, he answered for the ninety-eighth time.
But he was only met with more evil laughter. He was a prisoner in his own body. The pain was bearing down on him, breaking down his resistance. The last thing he wanted to do was kill the captain. He was loyal to him and would never betray him.
Yes, you will.
Sweat drenched Damon as if he had fallen into Blostos, and the last of his reserve melted away. Rage rippled through him, and his dragon roared.
Soon, I will release your dragon, and you’ll burn your captain to a crisp.
Damon moaned. Blood rushed and rolled and roared through him, making his insides scorching hot.
The next time you hear your captain’s voice you’ll kill him.
Damon tried to cuss it out but no words formed in his foggy mind–only images of murdering the captain played over and over again.
He tossed his head back and forth, trying to block out the horrible images of stabbing Taog, of strangling him, of smashing him into tiny pieces, but they consumed him, along with a burning rage.
Something wet and soft caressed his knuckles. A coolness spread up his arm and then moved through his body, calming the raving storm inside him. He took a deep breath, and an intoxicating scent filled his lungs.
Maybe it was the queen. No, Cosima possessed a spicier scent.
You’re too late. The queen is our slave. She’s already killed the king.
Noooo! He wailed. The queen loved the king. It would shatter her spirit.
Breathing hard, Damon clenched his fists. He wanted to kill. Kill. Kill.
A female cried out as if she was in pain. The queen. No, it couldn’t be.
The smug voice hissed, then the pain intensified ten times worse.
Damon shrieked, arching his back.
Another gentle brush of frost eased the agony. He stopped yelling and lowered his body, sinking into a bed. His breathing slowed, and his heartbeat eased to a normal rate. Pain returned to a tolerable level. The hateful voice grew distant, but it was still there.
“Damon, Damon, open your eyes. Come back to me.”
A feminine voice called to him through the miserable fog of agony. He fluttered open his eyes to find Hera frowning.
“See, Tryker, it’s not working,” she said.
She held on to his hand tight, and tears splattered onto his now chilled flesh.
“I think your wrong.” Tryker smiled. “Look.” He winked at Damon. “Welcome back.”
She wiped the wetness off her cheeks. “Damon.”
He scowled. “What happened?”
“You kept going into convulsions and broke out in a high fever,” Tryker said. “Nothing I had worked.”
“Then how did I come out of this?”
“Your mate,” he said. “When she touches you, your symptoms lessen. It works better than anything I have.” Tryker shook his head. “Never seen anything like it. If you’ll excuse me, I have to inform the captain you’re awake.”
Damon’s stomach clenched. “Wait.” But his voice croaked as if something was cutting off his throat. He squeezed Hera’s hand. “Don’t
let the captain come in here.”
She winced. “Why?”
“The voice. It keeps ordering me to kill him. I don’t…I don’t…know if I can control myself. Go, tell Tryker before it’s too late. Go now!”
But it was too late.
The door slid open, and both Taog and Anonghos entered.
Unleash the dragon! Kill! the voice yelled.
A red-hot meteor shower of pain bombarded Damon like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His overworked heart threatened to burst. His muscles and bones twisted and crunched at incredible rate.
Hera flew back screaming.
Damon busted through the restraints and landed in dragon form, his wings crashing into shelves and knocking over beds. Glass shattered into tiny pieces, and metal instruments skidded across the floor.
“Damon, what are you doing?” the captain yelled.
Damon panted hard, fighting to hold on to the tiniest bit of control, but the pain…
Hera scrambled off the floor. “The thing inside him wants him to kill you, Captain.”
Anonghos pulled out his eruptor. “Stand down, buddy. Don’t make me use this on you.”
Tryker ran into the room and skidded to halt. “Hera, he’ll kill the captain. He’ll kill all of us. It’s up to you.”
Razor-sharp pain stabbed Damon repeatedly, and unwittingly, he swiped his tail, sending Tryker flying into the wall. He reluctantly turned his attention on the captain, who had also drawn his eruptor.
“Damon, fight it,” Taog said calmly. “You can do this.”
Damon shook his head to defy the terrible voice, but then tiny pulses of burning agony ignited inside him, as if ninety-two fire pokers were stabbing him over and over again, sizzling his flesh, driving him mad. He took a deep breath, and fire brewed in his chest, but then the strangest thing happened–Hera charged at him.
“Hera, get away from him. He’ll kill you.” Taog motioned with his eruptor.
She leaped onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging tightly. Her heart pressed against him, and her silky hair caressed his hot scales.
“No, Damon,” she said. “You can’t hurt the captain. You’re a loyal guard, remember?”
More pain seared through him, and he shrieked, tossing his head back, but Hera didn’t let go. Instead, she wrapped her legs around him like a slithering slake.
Get her off, the voice ordered, but it was thin and frail.
Coldness doused the pulsing pain, and he could breathe, taking in big gulps. He lowered his head until the madness left him. The need to kill the captain wilted away. His tense muscles unwound, and his racing heart returned to normal. The pain reached a tolerable limit.
He transformed back into human form with Hera still clinging to his back.
“Put away your weapons.” Tryker slowly got off the floor, gasping for breath. “She’s managing Damon. He won’t hurt you.”
Blood trickled down the side of his mouth, and the right side of his face was swollen. Damon winced.
“What do you mean?” Anonghos looked at Damon suspiciously, aiming his eruptor at him.
He motioned with his hand. “When she touches him, the violent stimulation lessens.”
Hera lay her head on his back. Her soft breath was strangely comforting.
“Damon?” the captain asked.
“I’m in control, Captain. The madness is pushed back.”
“But not gone,” Anonghos said. “What happens if it comes back?”
Tryker dabbed his cut lip. “Hera must be with him. She’s the only one who can help him. My sedatives have proven to be useless.”
Hera lifted her head. “Can I climb down without you turning into a possessed dragon?”
Heat flamed over Damon’s cheeks. “Yes.”
“Anonghos, lower your weapon.” The captain secured his eruptor in its holster.
“But, Captain…”
“I said lower it.”
Anonghos reluctantly shoved his weapon into his belt.
When she slowly released her arms and legs and slid off, Damon immediately missed the pressure of her body. She came along the side of him, straightening her shirt and fixing her hair. She was at least a foot shorter than him, and he could easily crush her, but she was much stronger than he anticipated–strong enough to combat the sinister voice. She had no reason to help him, but she’d risked being badly injured or losing her very life to save him. The bond between them was becoming more powerful. Something he hadn’t anticipated, and it was unsettling.
“Tryker,” Taog said. “Tell me your analysis.”
“Right now, we know that some kind of alien is inside of Damon.”
“I can hear its voice,” Damon said.
Anonghos frowned. “The thing inside you can talk?”
Damon nodded, looking at his and the others’ leery faces. “It’s pure evil.” He tensed, clenching his fists. “Even now, it’s sending millions of violent impulses, telling me to kill the captain and take control of the ship.”
Hera rubbed his back. “I’m sorry.”
He took a deep breath. The burning impulses had numbed, as if her caress was ice, but the misery was manageable, not gone.
“So, since the rest of our people do not have mates?” Taog asked slowly.
Do not answer him, the voice demanded. “Or you will suffer.”
Damon straightened. “They are most likely experiencing what I am experiencing.”
A fast wave of pain rushed up Damon’s spine, and he hissed.
Hera gripped his arm. “Damon, are you okay? You’re trembling.”
“It heightens…the pain,” he gasped. “When you…ask me questions.”
Hera ran her hand down his arm, then clasped his fingers. “Maybe we should stop the questioning for now.”
“No,” Taog glowered. “We need to find out what this thing is and how to destroy it.”
“But you have to do it without hurting a Zalarian,” Anonghos said. “Or we will exterminate our own people.”
Tryker picked up the transcoder. “The only way to find out about this creature is to capture one and examine it.”
“I will not allow another one of the crew to go down to the planet,” Taog scowled.
Damon clasped her hand tighter, drawing on the strength she offered. “You don’t have to, Captain.”
Hera shook her head. “Damon, no.”
Anonghos put his hand on Hera’s shoulder and looked hard at Damon. “He doesn’t have a choice. He’s the only one who can do it.”
Hera jerked her shoulder. “Great balls of fire, you fools don’t even know how to capture it.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Tryker studied the transcoder. “We might be able to use the eruptor to stun it, then put it in a container.”
Damon shook his head. “Those things work in packs, Tryker. A swarm chased Padean and I down. He made it. I didn’t.”
Tryker cleared his throat. “I have a theory, Damon. When your mate touches you, the pain lessens. I bet if there was an exchange of body fluids, you’d be able to manage the pain even better.”
“Excuse me,” Hera said. “Exchange of body fluids? Are you talking about sex?”
Damon winced at the astonishment in her voice.
Tryker’s cheeks turned beet red. “Not necessarily sex, but perhaps a kiss.”
Hera yanked her hand free. “I’m not an experiment.” She gave the captain a deadly glare and folded her arms across her chest. “And I’m sure as hell not going to be a peep show.”
“If you don’t,” Taog said. “Then thousands will die on Zalara and millions on your planet Earth.”
She tilted her head up. “I said no.”
Taog pointed at Damon. “You’d rather all these people die on my planet and yours than kiss him? You’re a selfish human, unlike Zalarians.”
Hera opened her mouth then shut it. Tears welled in her eyes. “You’re lower than a snake’s belly caught in a wagon’s wheel. If you’ll
excuse me, Captain.” She hurried out of sickbay.
“That could have been handled better, Captain,” Tryker said grimly.
The captain glared. “We don’t have time to waste, Doctor.”
Damon didn’t want Hera to be forced into anything. Being a rapist wasn’t top on his list. “I’d better go after her.”
The captain started to follow him. “I’ll go with you.”
Damon raised his shaking hand. “No. You’ve done enough. Let me handle it. She’s my mate. Not yours.”
His voice came out stronger than he intended, but he refused to back down. He stood in front of the door, blocking the captain’s path, wobbling unsteadily. If the captain challenged him, he wouldn’t have the strength to stop. But his pride wouldn’t let him back down. Blazes, what was happening? He’d never challenged the captain before, but then he’d never had a mate either.
Taog rubbed his chin. “I thought you still had your heart set on Cosima.”
Damon sucked in his breath and stiffened. He glared at all of them, then turned on his heels. Taog had stabbed his stubborn pride with his own words. When he was around Hera, he’d forgotten all about the queen, as if she was a distant memory.
He sniffed and inhaled Hera’s fragrant scent and followed her back to his quarters. She sat on his bed, resting her head in her hands.
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” she said miserably.
“I’m sorry,” he said, as he sat next to her. “The captain shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She looked at him. “It’s not like I don’t like the idea of kissing a man hotter than jalapeño poppers.”
“But?”
“Call me vain, but I don’t reckon kissing a love-sick-puppy lusting over his missing queen just to save his people.”
He grinned. “You’re jealous.” His breath quickened at the thought.
Her face flushed a lovely red. “No, I’m not.”
Her voice was a little too shrill for him not to hit a nerve.
He picked up a lock of her silky hair. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not sure what I’m feeling.” He leaned toward her. “But you’re irresistible.”
She put her hands on his chest. “That makes as much sense as tits on a bull.”
