“Oh no, Al. Let’s hear none of that. You’re the perfect one. No contest.”
She started to protest but didn’t really see the point. After all, he was entitled to his opinion. Even if it was so very, very wrong. “Have it your way.” Although I know better.
“Uh-huh.” His smile—sardonic but amused—suggested he’d heard the second half of that sentence, no matter how firmly sealed her lips had been.
“Actually, neither of us is perfect,” she said. “We’re only human, as the saying goes. Do you suppose Zetithians had a saying like that?”
“No idea. Don’t give a damn, either.”
“Too much conversation?”
“Possibly—not that I’m complaining.”
He increased the pace and depth of his thrusts, not precisely ramming his cock into her, but if his intent was to render her speechless, he succeeded. Her subsequent vocalizations were more along the lines of sighs, gasps, and moans—and all of them good.
Another joy juice orgasm gripped her, reminding her once again why for a Zetithian woman, only a Zetithian man would do. Imagining that a Terran or a Davordian male—the only two species she’d ever attempted to have sex with—could possibly measure up was ludicrous. She should never have bothered to look beyond their circle of Zetithian friends to find The One.
I fell in love with the boy next door.
On that thought, an orgasm of a different sort swept through her body, squeezing Larry so tightly, he had no choice but to slow down.
As time itself slowed, she became aware of a trio of dancing orbs located somewhere deep inside her. Entirely different from the orange lights, these were a brilliantly clear aquamarine color that shimmered in…
Anticipation?
She held her breath as Larry came with a low growl.
Moments later, the orbs expanded like tiny supernovas, radiating light of a slightly different hue. Two were still aqua, although more blue than green, while the third actually turned purple.
Our children?
She marveled as they floated off in the river of colors—a river that contained no orange lights whatsoever.
Suddenly, she realized what those lights had been. They were the inhibitors to ovulation. Something about making love with Larry had removed enough of them from her bloodstream to allow her to ovulate and conceive.
He really was The One.
Way cool…
She would tell him, of course. Later, perhaps, after the laetralant effect of his snard wore off.
Then again, he might already know.
* * *
When Althea looked up at him, Larry saw something in her eyes he’d never seen before. The golden glow from her pupils had changed, becoming almost as green as the iris. A moment later, it was back to normal, making him wonder if he hadn’t imagined it.
Except that her smile was different too. The curve of her lips was no less genuine. Had she felt what he did at the moment of his climax? Like a part of his soul had left his body along with his snard? She’d told him she could feel what he experienced when they were intimate. Was that the reason for the change? Or was she still suffering the aftereffects of her connection to Palorka?
Then again, she was purring.
“You okay, Al?”
“I feel absolutely fabulous,” she replied. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I dunno,” he said with more than a trace of doubt. “You look…different.”
Her purr grew louder as she raised her arms over her head and arched her back in a sensuous stretch. “I feel different.”
“How so?”
She cleared her throat but continued to purr. “So many things have happened, I don’t know where to begin.”
“Start anywhere—the beginning, middle, or end. Doesn’t matter to me. We’ll sort it out later.”
“Mmm…” When she closed her eyes, her purr was so strong, the lamp on the bedside table rattled.
“I hate to bug you when you seem so sated and sleepy, but…”
“I know.” When she stretched again, the movement did interesting things to his dick, which remained snug and warm inside her. “Seems you aren’t just my Zetithian mate; you’re also a perfect match for my Mordrial side.”
“How do you know?”
“You remember those orange lights I used to see?”
“Yeah. What about them?”
“I know what they are now. At least, I’m pretty sure I do. They’re the Mordrial ovulation inhibitors. Sort of like built-in birth control—until you find The One and he makes them disappear.”
He swallowed hard around a lump in his throat that he suspected might prevent him from purring ever again. “They’re gone forever?”
A tiny frown marred the smoothness of her brow. “Maybe not forever, but for a while, anyway.”
“Are you saying you’re—?” They’d already talked about making babies. But had they actually done it?
“Pregnant? Yeah. Two boys and a girl, if my interpretation of the color coding is correct. Your father probably knows by now. Is he as anxious to be a grandfather as your mother is to have grandbabies?”
“I’m sure he is. He just isn’t as vocal as Mom. But then, few people are.” His smile was so broad, his cheeks ached. If he’d ever been happier at any point in his life, he couldn’t imagine when that might have been, let alone the cause. “She’ll be lighting up the comstation pretty soon. Are you ready for that?”
“Of course! I’ve always felt like a member of your family. Now I truly will be.”
“My darling Al. You’ve always been part of the Jolly Roger family. From here on out, you’ll be mistress of the Stooge.”
She smiled. “Please tell me we aren’t going to name our firstborn son Shemp.”
“Can’t,” he said with a shake of his head. “Name’s already taken.” Noting her puzzled expression, he went on, “Keplok says the little bugger ‘chose’ me, so I couldn’t exactly say no.”
She stared at him, aghast. “You don’t mean one of the children, do you?”
“Nope. Shemp is one of the monkeys. I think you’ll like him.”
She put up a hand. “Wait a second. How did Keplok know he’d chosen you?”
“I dunno. When the little critter put his arms around my neck, Keplok said that he’d chosen me and that I should name him.”
“He can understand them that well?”
“Apparently. That’s how we found out what the Palorkans did to capture so many of the Guardians.” Sighing with regret, he slowly withdrew from Althea’s luscious body and rolled over to snuggle up beside her. “My big brother might not deal with people very well, but he sure can communicate with those monkeys.”
Chapter 29
Althea still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Larry’s brother. She felt better about him than she did before—particularly after hearing him sing, although she’d been more focused on Larry than Keplok at the time. But his skill with music and monkeys notwithstanding, there was one thing that truly impressed her.
“Keplok sure was hot stuff with that sword. My father is the best swordsman I’ve ever seen, but he’s never done anything like that—at least, not that I know of.”
“I’m guessing no one else has, either,” Larry said. “And my dad’s no slouch with a blade. To be honest, I always figured those swords the Statzeelian guys carried around were just for show.”
“Apparently not, although he’d probably tell you even a pampered prince has to be able to defend himself.” He’d probably say it looking down his flat nose at whoever asked the question too. Somehow, she doubted finding love would change him that much.
“Or maybe he needs it to keep his rabid fans from getting too rowdy.”
She gave him a playful elbow in the ribs. “Don’t be silly. He wouldn’t use a sword for that. He’d h
ave bodyguards armed with pulse pistols to stun them into submission.”
“You’re probably right,” he said, laughing. “You usually are.” With a sigh, he added, “Wish I’d gone looking for you sooner. I didn’t realize how much I missed you until I saw you again.”
“Same here. I missed all of you guys. But you most of all.”
“There were so many things I didn’t key on. Like how I shouldn’t have bothered trying to date anyone aside from you. Not that I ever did—not until Celeste, anyway. I should’ve known better.”
“Hey, if I hadn’t figured it out, why should you?”
He pulled her closer, reminding her that at long last, she didn’t have to be alone for her mind to be quiet. “I think Mom did. The amazing thing is she never said anything. When I told her I was dating Celeste—”
“So she knew about her? I wondered.”
“Yeah. She said it was a shame you weren’t around to get a read on Celeste’s ‘true feelings.’” He paused, frowning. “I can’t believe I’d forgotten about that.”
“You mean Jack sent you to find me?”
“Not in so many words, but I guess she did give me the idea.”
Althea burst out laughing. Between Larry and his family—his mother in particular—there had always been plenty of laughter aboard the Jolly Roger. Something that had been sadly lacking in the Baradan jungle.
“What’s so funny?”
“You probably didn’t remember it because your mother is rarely that subtle. I can’t wait to hear what she has to say when we see her again. Any idea where she is?”
“Last time we talked, she said they were making a run to Darconia. Might be a while before they get back this way, although you know how Mom loves to demonstrate how fast her ship is. Considering our ‘news,’ they might be waiting for us when we get to Rhylos. Speaking of which, is Rhylos going to affect you the way it used to?”
“Maybe a little,” she replied. “Certainly not as much as Palorka did. But then, I’m not the one who inflicted Rhylos’s pain.” She paused, frowning. “I don’t know how or why, but that world has been through a heap of hurt.”
“Sure wish we’d known what was bothering you back then.”
Considering all the hours she’d spent alone on the ship while the rest of the family availed themselves of all Rhylos had to offer, she wished she’d admitted to having that sort of planetary awareness long ago. “For a long time, I thought I was nuts. Then when I figured out the source of the emotions I was sensing, it seemed even crazier to think that a planet could actually have feelings. The seclusion on Barada helped a lot, but I don’t believe I need it anymore. My powers and the way I relate to them have…matured.”
“Glad to hear it.” With her shiver, he dragged the blankets over them. “Speaking of Barada, do you need to go back there? Anything you left behind that you’d miss?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, although I’d like to let them know I’m not coming back. The people there were so good to me. I’d rather not cause them any worry.”
“I can do that. You know me, communications specialist extraordinaire.”
She smiled. “I could add several other items to your list of talents.” And not all of them sexual.
“If you ever think my ego needs stroking, you can tell me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, although I don’t believe it does. Not now anyway, and it probably never will.” Case in point, he hadn’t asked for the list the moment she mentioned it. “You’ve always been…I don’t know…on such an even keel? Comfortable in your own skin? It’s something like that. You’re just…you. Not needing anyone’s approval to justify your existence. You are your own man, so to speak.”
“Maybe. But I need your approval—and your love. Without those things, I’d only be a guy drifting through the galaxy with a giant bug and a pet monkey for friends.” He rubbed his chin. “Although to be honest, I’m not even sure I’ll have the bug for much longer. That Glyssia has made a new man—er, bug—of him. Or should that be insect?”
“Actually, I believe insect is more correct than bug. I forget what the distinction is, but there is one, however obscure it might be to those of us who don’t study such things.” She raised her head slightly and glanced around the room, pleased to note that her light-headed phase was already history. “Where is this monkey, anyway? Hiding under the bed?”
“He’s been sleeping in here with you. Right now, I’m guessing he’s off visiting his Guardian buddies. He probably thought we needed the privacy.”
“That was considerate of him.” Althea had learned long ago that being around animals didn’t necessarily ensure privacy. Not when her mother could communicate with them telepathically and find out exactly what they’d seen or heard. In her family, keeping a secret meant keeping it from anything with a pulse.
“Ha! I just realized something,” she exclaimed. “I can read the emotions of an insect. Mom can only do the telepathy thing with animals. She can’t read insects at all.”
He chuckled. “You’re the only Zetithian-enhanced Mordrial witch in the galaxy, which, in my humble opinion, makes you the superior model.”
She leaned into him, delighting in his solid warmth. “I’m glad you think so. ’Cause I’m the one you’re stuck with.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite that way. Although if I have to be stuck with anyone, I’m so glad it’s you.”
* * *
For the first time in days, Althea ventured out of Larry’s quarters, which were also hers now, to find that a great many changes had occurred to the Stooge while she’d been sleeping.
For one thing, there were children aboard, many of whom apparently considered Keplok and Dartula to be not only their rescuers, but also their foster parents. Being pregnant with triplets, Althea could only be grateful that she didn’t have the whole parenthood thing dropped in her lap quite so precipitously. Getting used to the idea of having triplets was one thing—she had several months to do that. Adding twelve kids to a family in one fell swoop was something else entirely.
She was surprised at how subdued the children seemed, almost as though they hadn’t recognized they were truly free and had a brighter future ahead of them. Then again, she hadn’t known the kids before they’d been taken. Being different from the others of their kind, perhaps they’d always maintained a low profile to avoid being noticed.
Sadly, someone must have noticed them. The trick would be ensuring that such atrocities never happened again. For her part, she fully intended to keep her empathic channels open in the hope of discovering other mistreated and downtrodden individuals anywhere Larry’s repair jobs took them. She might not be able to help them all, but she would do her best.
Dartula smiled as Althea entered the main lounge. “Glad to see you up and about. We’ve all been so worried about you—Larry especially. The Guardians helped, of course, but his love… Well, you know how much that means.” She glanced at a cluster of the Guardians sitting with the children. “They’re focused on helping the children now. According to what they told Keplok, the children’s trauma is harder to heal because it happened over a longer period of time. They did what they could while they were imprisoned together, although it wasn’t enough to counteract their ongoing distress.”
“Funny how I felt the Guardians’ concern but not the children’s fear,” Althea said. “If it hadn’t been for them, we might not have known those kids were there—until Larry’s vision, that is.”
At least she didn’t think she would’ve sensed them. Normally, she had to be relatively close to other beings to read their emotions. The Guardians were different. Their mental energy was much stronger than any she’d ever encountered—even more powerful than the minds of other Mordrials.
Unfortunately, her own thoughts were still a little fuzzy. Recalling the finer details might take a few days, even weeks. Then again, th
ere were several aspects of their adventure she would just as soon forget. No doubt the children felt the same.
“Are the kids talking much about what happened to them?”
“Some,” Dartula replied. “Although they still seem to be a little shell-shocked from their ordeal. I’m not sure they even know how they feel.”
“I might be able to help them with that, once my brain gets back to normal. At the moment, everything seems sort of…jumbled.”
“After what you’ve been through, I’m not surprised,” Dartula said. “Larry told us about what happened when you ‘hurt’ Palorka. That in itself is a difficult concept to grasp.”
“No kidding. I have a little trouble dealing with it myself. As far as the kids go, I might have to see each child separately before I can sort things out.” She thought for a moment. “Although I could stand some practice at isolating their emotions.”
Althea had no trouble reading her sister. She sensed her bewilderment—presumably due to the idea of a planet having feelings—as well as her concern and a trace of sorrow, which was probably for the children.
“I have the utmost faith in you,” Dartula said. With a shy smile, she added, “You’re pretty amazing.”
“Thanks, Sis. So are you.” As she gave her sister a heartfelt hug, Althea realized that once they reached Rhylos, their team would break up. At long last, she had a sister. Unfortunately, that sister was someone she doubted she would ever see again in her entire life. Perhaps Dartula’s sadness had a similar source. “I’m really going to miss you.”
“Same here. I never dreamed when we set out that we would find family here. I knew you existed, but stumbling across the two of you the way we did was kinda freaky.”
“Perhaps the gods took a hand,” Althea suggested. “We never would’ve met if you hadn’t volunteered to help rescue the Guardians. Putting yourself in the path of the gods takes courage, and you certainly have plenty of that.”
“I’m glad you think so.” With a rueful smile, she added, “I’ve never felt particularly courageous.”
Althea grinned. “That’s the warrior in you. We both come by it honestly.” She gave her sister’s long golden curls a lighthearted tug. “Just wish I’d inherited his hair the way you did.”
Maverick Page 29
