JoAquin_An Alien Abduction Paranormal Romance

by Charmaine Ross

  Jo’Aquin

  A Hexioian Alien Abduction Romance

  Charmaine Ross

  Copyright © 2018 by Charmaine Ross

  Edited in UK/Australian English

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Published in Australia

  First Published 2018

  web: www.charmaineross.com

  twitter https://twitter.com/CharmaineRossAu

  Facebook https://www.facebook.com/charmaine.ross.01

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  About the Author

  Jo’Aquin

  Ghost

  More from Charmaine Ross

  Romantic Comedy Novellas

  Contemporary Romance

  Thriller

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Charmaine’s first foray into romance was as a fourteen year old where she fell hopelessly and eternally in love with her hero as only a teenager can. Instead of watching movies and staying up late, she would go to bed at eight thirty and continue her very romantic, very safe, love affair.

  Since then, she has fallen in love with many heroes, some less safe than what her teenage brain could possibly imagine. After earning a Fine Art’s Degree, a Diploma of Secondary Education and a Diploma of Marketing. She now works in Internal Communications in a global company. Despite her day job, she always returns to writing.

  Although she has travelled, she always returns to her home town of Melbourne and lives with her husband, two children and two cats in the ferny-greens of the Dandenongs. If she’s not working on her latest romance and falling in love with yet another hero, you’ll find her reading, watching and basically indulging in her addiction to any story on any media type she can get her fingers on.

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  Jo’Aquin

  1

  L auren never truly understood what the term ‘pitch black’ meant but standing on the side of the road, next to her quietly hissing, broken-down crap-heap of a car, she knew.

  It was empty.

  Absolute.

  It was so quiet she heard her own breathing, and she suspected if she listened closely enough, she would hear the pounding of her heart as it tried fighting a way out of her chest.

  Her friend Casey’s voice floated through her mind. “It’s been five years, Lauren. Take some time for yourself and forget about it all. Even if it’s just for a few weeks.”

  She’d certainly found some time away from ‘it all’ now. In fact, she was so far away from ‘it all,’ that all she wanted to do was drive back home and crawl into the safety of her own bed. Even empty and cold, it was preferable to being out here.

  Wherever ‘here’ was. Broken down in the middle of nowhere. No soul around for kilometres. If this was getting ‘away from it all,’ the debilitating depression she’d lived with since Mike’s death was a soft by comparison.

  A sharp, rigid wind blew grains of sand onto the road and tinkled against the side of the car. The Nullarbor Plain—so hot, humid, and uncompromising during the day—was frigid, empty, and even more uncompromising at night. She shivered and hugged her jacket firmly around her shoulders.

  Wild thoughts circled like vultures, picking away mouthfuls of calm, like meat off a bone. There was that movie, where backpackers found themselves at the mercy of a psycho who picked them off one by one in a similar place.

  A trucker might pass, but who was to say he wouldn’t take advantage of her? It was lawless out here. Anything could happen to her and not a soul would know. Her body would never be found.

  Lauren bit her thumb nail so hard she jumped with the sting as it pulled away from her skin. There was nowhere to hide out here. There was nothing but a huge slab of gritty desert with a spindly bush here and there. She could run off into the night, but she’d probably never find her way back to the road ever again. At thirty-eight years of age, she felt as helpless as a child. Alone.

  So alone.

  The sky above dwarfed her. Out here, without the city light to subdue the absolute brilliance of the night, the stars were so bright. So alive. She wondered if there were other souls on any of them and what they might be like. If other species experienced grief the way humans did. The way she did.

  A bright streak of light speared through the black. Was it a shooting star? She was about to make a wish when the light abruptly changed direction. A plane perhaps? The direction didn’t look natural. Maybe it was a helicopter but it was extremely fast. She vaguely recalled that the military used the obscurity of the Nullabour Plane to practise top secret military operations.

  The light zagged, this time sinking down to the ground. It hovered in the distance for a moment before silently hurtling straight towards her. Lauren gasped. She jerked away from her slouched position against the car, tension radiating through her body.

  This was no plane. Or helicopter. And Lauren doubted she would be the target of some top-secret military operation. The light was getting bigger and bigger by the second and would soon be on top of her.

  She stumbled around the car, slid off the front bumper and lurched into the darkness. She lost one of the stupid ballet flats. She barely registered the feeling of sharp stones scratching and digging into her feet through the fear-induced adrenaline pulsing through her body. She glanced over her shoulder. The light was nowhere to be seen. Where the hell had it gone? She nearly tripped over a small shrub.

  She stumbled. When she found her balance, the light was directly in front of her. Only it wasn’t a light. It was a sleek silver disc that hovered a couple of feet off the ground and glowed an eerie white. She spun in the opposite direction and stumbled on legs she barely felt.

  She slammed into something hard. Her upper arms were caged in a steel grip. She struggled, but whatever held her was immovable. A body towered over her. She gazed up. It took her a moment to realise she wa actually staring at a face. Black eyes, dispassionate and as calculating as a snake’s stared down at her. There was no nose to speak of, just two slits positioned over a small horizontal slash for a mouth. The monster’s skin was made up of scales like a snake…or a very large lizard. The beast that held her was a giant Iguana that walked upright and looked at her with cunning intelligence in its beady, inhuman eyes.

  Lauren jerked back, her hands clawing against its chest. Ice cold skin met her palms. The scales covered a body that was more concrete than muscle. Her legs gave way, and if it weren’t for the creature’s grip on her arms, she would have fallen to the ground on numb legs. She barely comprehended what was right in front of her. Her panicked mind ordered her to struggle, but she found she couldn’t move a muscle.

  It turned her palm upwards and drew a sharp claw over her skin. Blood welled and dripped over the side of her hand. A tongue slid from its mouth, slicing through the welling blood. Sticky with saliva, it rasped over the wound like sandpaper, leaving a painful, hot trail on her skin.

  A glistening drop slid over the fine scales at the corner of its mouth as its tongue disappeared. Lauren jerked, but the Iguana’s grip was so strong, she didn’t move an inch.

  It cocked its head as it tasted her blood, and an emotion seemed to pass through its endless black eyes. A calculating gleam shimmered in their depths.
It opened its mouth and uttered a string of unintelligible clicks and slithery sounds. Some instinctive part of her knew if she didn’t escape now, she never would.

  She pushed against its chest, her feet slipping on the gravel, lunging, crying out, screaming. The creature blinked slowly down at her, predator to prey, and she fell into that dark, fathomless gaze that was as thick and as impenetrable as the inky dark night around her. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

  Nothing.

  2

  E arth was a beautiful planet. It was a jewel amongst the dull, lifeless worlds that surrounded it in its own solar system, but Commander Jo’Aquin Centauri could hardly stand to see it. The glowing blue haze of Earth’s atmosphere reminded him of his baby sister, Emile, and her terrified eyes the night she was stolen by the Reptiles. That memory that was burned into his mind. He turned his back on the planet to watch the activity on the bridge instead.

  “Captain,” Striker, his second in command, offered a greeting as he stepped to the command post.

  Jo’Aquin nodded at the only man he called a friend on the ship. He didn’t distance himself from Striker the way he did with the rest of the crew. A Commander couldn’t befriend his crew, but there was too much history for them not to form a bond.

  They had fought together often and hard enough against the Reptilian threat across the galaxy. The last bloody battle was on Rhemus, where Jo’Aquin had saved Striker’s life. Events like that forged strong friendships, and even though Jo’Aquin had been promoted after that battle, he had never pulled rank on the man he considered his closest comrade. When Jo’Aquin was in command, however, Striker kept the conversation professional.

  “It is a beautiful planet, as always,” Striker said, looking over his shoulder.

  One day, Striker would have his own command. Jo’Aquin saw that in his friend, but for now, there were a few years of age and experience that Striker had yet to fulfill.

  “Indeed,” Jo’Aquin commented, not wanting to offer more by way of explanation. Nothing got past Striker. This time was no different as his friend narrowed his gaze and studied him.

  The bridge was largely quiet. Every post was filled, his staff were diligently concentrating on their jobs. That meant that their conversation would carry.

  “The shuttle is being prepared to leave for Earth and will be ready in thirty minutes.” Jo’Aquin caught one of the female Location Technicians glancing at Striker. Striker’s golden boy looks and cheery disposition often earned him such looks. And much more. His friend was known to enjoy female company.

  “Are you included in this trip down to the surface?” Jo’Aquin asked.

  “Indeed.” Striker repeated Jo’Aquin’s word, and his glance strayed back to the dark-haired beauty at the console panel. Jo’Aquin’s lips twisted a little. Striker made good use of his features, sending more than one female heart into overdrive.

  Jo’Aquin liked women too, of course, but being the Commander of an intergalactic ship more than put a kink in relationship plans. His long-term career in the Galactic Federation didn’t help. During his life, he’d been immersed in intense battles, stuck on inhospitable planets in far-flung corners of the universe, and spent most of his time light-years away from home, this four-year-long post included. If his past was taken into account, he could look forward to many more years alone.

  He’d long ago stopped wishing to find a companion, let alone a love companion. Those days of his youth had passed him by. He wasn’t young anymore, the years passing faster than they had ever seemed to before. With cold contemplation, he could consider his career as much of a relationship as he was bound to have. He’d long since reconciled his fate.

  The Galactic Federation liked their Commanders single. That way, they were easily sent off on long missions. No one would miss them. They wouldn’t have wives and children wanting to see their men quitting army life to come home.

  Besides, he’d given up his rights to love a long time ago. Only a worthy man should be lucky enough to find a woman to cherish and love. That man definitely wasn’t him. He’d proven that time and time again.

  Jo’Aquin arched a brow at his Second in Command, “Be sure to keep a low profile while you’re there.” Striker’s reputation with Earth women was also legendary. At a glance, the Hexonians were very similar to humans, but some differences would set them apart in a hot minute and cause all sorts of problems if they were noticed. At that moment, the Hexonians wished to remain in covert operation in Earth’s orbit. It was the only way they could neutralise the Reptile threat on the planet. Maybe this time, they could stop an invasion. Maybe he could stop children from being taken and used as mindless slaves as the Reptilians had done on too many other planets.

  “As low as I can get,” Striker answered, then lowered his voice keeping it only within Jo’Aquin’s hearing, “What about you, Captain? Would you like me to show you around the planet? I will delay my previous commitments and take you there myself.”

  The prospect was tempting. The females of Earth were extremely desirable. But he was the Commander. Commanders lived their title, and he wasn’t free to indulge in the same activates he allowed his staff to do.

  “Many thanks my friend, but you go and enjoy yourself.”

  Striker regarded him, a concerned expression flitting across his face. “I’m speaking as a friend, Jo’Aquin. If you don’t take a break, you will break. Take your own advice. Have some time away. You must have at least five years leave owed to you.”

  Jo’Aquin’s shoulders tightened. He stood straight and tilted his chin upward. “Enjoy your vacation, Second. I will expect you back in a week with a fresh mind and dedication to your station.” He mentally winced at his own harsh words, but they rolled from his mouth with practised ease.

  Striker gave Jo’Aquin a long look before inclining his head. “As you wish…Commander.”

  Striker was about to step from the control area when a sudden movement from the planet’s surface streaked across the view screen.

  “Hostile, Sir. Reading interior life forms.” Reed, Jo’Aquin’s expert navigator, tracked the craft swiftly heading out of the galaxy. “They have a human on board, Sir.”

  The Reptile operation was always done off-grid, in darkness and stealth. They never risked exposure like this. Jo’Aquin leaned forward on the railing, his hands squeezing the guardrail, brows drawn together. The Reptiles’ craft was quickly disappearing into the darkness of vast space. They needed to get that vessel. Now.

  “Get a lock on them, Reed.”

  “Got a lock, Sir. Coordinates six, five, two, hyperspace eight. Looks like they’re getting ready to quantum hop.”

  Jo’Aquin’s fists tightened. “Are you sure, Lieutenant?”

  One quantum hop so close to Earth would surely alert even primitive Earth’s tracking systems. The Reptiles were taking too many risks. They weren’t just leaving the planet, they were escaping the galaxy. And in a hurry. They knew the planet was under the protection of the Galactic Federation, so why risk blatant exposure?

  “Scanners are reading ion expansion, sir.”

  They had something, or someone, on board they didn’t want apprehended. Jo’Aquin’s blood ran cold. It could only mean one thing. They’d found a test subject with the DNA they needed to start the enslavement of the human race. If Jo’Aquin and his crew didn’t get this human, it would be the beginning of the end.

  So far, no arm of the Galactic Federation had been able to stop the Reptiles’ underhanded methods. Somehow, some way, the Reptilians always slipped through their best efforts. Too many abductions later and the Galactic Federation still had little idea how the Reptilians were able to mind-slave an entire planet. He needed to get to the Reptilian shuttle. This could be the break the Galactic Federation needed.

  It had started this way with many other planets. With Emile. Beautiful Emile. Mind slaved. Grief washed through him with enough power to bring him to his knees. No! He forced her from his thoughts. There’d be time enoug
h for personal anguish later.

  Anger, whiplash-quick, punched Jo’Aquin’s system. He needed to stop this before it was too late. He couldn’t command the Starship to give chase, as that would leave the planet below unprotected. The only hope was to pursue the Reptiles in one of the shuttles they used to go planetside. He always made sure they were fully charged, stocked, and ready to go at a moment’s notice.

  Jo’Aquin connected the through-ship intercom. “Reed. Nomad. Thorne. Assemble teams. Docking stations one, two, three, and engage the Reptilian craft.”

  Ten seconds later Jo’Aquin watched as his men ran into the docking stations in full battle armour and clamoured into their respective shuttles. They left their docking stations in flight order and streaked towards the Reptilian craft without delay.

  A quick surge of pride washed through Jo’Aquin. They were good men, all of them. Always fearless and ready to protect Earth from the threat of the stinking Reptiles. He knew all of them had seen the effects of the Reptiles first-hand and witnessed the destruction they left behind.

  “Fire around the Reptilian shuttle. No damage. We need whoever is on board,” Jo’Aquin ordered.

  He watched as the shuttlecrafts chased the Reptilian craft. Red-yellow beams shot past the craft. It wobbled precariously but didn’t stop.

  “Ion expansion at fifty percent, Commander,” Thorne informed Jo’Aquin through the commlink.

  Jo’Aquin stifled a curse. If the Reptiles opened the wormhole, their chance to recover the human would be lost. “Fire again, Reed. Aim to disable.”