Leaning over her, Rafe took the straps and began buckling her in, since she didn’t seem to be having much success herself. Despite working together for the past six months, this was the closest they had ever been for an extended period of time and he found he liked it. He took his time fastening the straps, breathing in her warm, feminine fragrance as he did so. His sensitive Kindred nose detected the scent of adrenaline mixed with desire and his sensitive ears could hear her racing heartbeat.
Could it be that Whitney was reacting to his nearness?
Rafe pushed the thought away. Clearly she was just excited to begin their mission. That was the reason for her elevated pulse and the warm, aroused scent that clung to her lush, curvy body.
“There,” he said at last, finishing with the harness. “You’re as secure as I can make you.”
“Thank you.” Her voice still sounded breathless but she raised an eyebrow at him challengingly. “Already making good on your oath to keep me safe?”
Rafe looked at her seriously.
“Absolutely. For as long as our partnership lasts.”
“Oh…of course.” His answer seemed to deflate her a bit and she looked away and bit her lush lower lip. Rafe found himself wishing he could bite it too and then pushed the thought away. He didn’t need distractions now—they were going on a dangerous mission.
Well, not very dangerous, he amended to himself. It was only a Class 2 planet and considering that the Kindred Planetary Danger Scale went all the way up to 10, it wasn’t much of a risk. Still, you never could tell what might happen on a mission to a strange world and it paid to be alert.
That meant not letting himself be distracted by Dr. Whitney Washington, no matter how blindingly lovely she was.
Reminding himself of that fact sternly, Rafe buckled himself in and started the ship. They had a mission to complete and no part of it included him getting close to Whitney.
If only he had known how very wrong he was. But by the time he found that out, it was much, much too late…
Chapter Three
Whitney had folded space before but it was always exciting and a little terrifying flying through the red gash in the blackness that the Mother Ship created to send them from one part of the universe to another in the blink of an eye. She held her breath as Rafe piloted their little ship closer to the gaping crimson maw in space and wrapped her arms around herself protectively.
“Are you frightened?” Rafe glanced over at her, raising one black eyebrow in her direction.
“N-no,” Whitney denied but a little tremble in her voice gave her away. She couldn’t help it—jaunting millions of light years in a split second gave her the willies. It just didn’t seem natural somehow, although she understood the complex science behind it.
“Yes you are—I can smell your fear,” Rafe accused. “Believe me, there is no need to be afraid. The only persons who cannot safely fold space are pregnant females and I know you are not pregnant.”
“What?” His bold assertion drew her attention away from the gash in space and she stared at him, one hand on her hip. “What makes you say that? How would you know if I’m pregnant or not?”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling under his crimson uniform shirt with the gesture.
“Because I would have smelled another male on you if you had been with one at any time in the past six solar months we have been working together. I haven’t smelled one, therefore, you cannot be pregnant.”
Whitney frowned.
“Hey—no need to make fun of my non-existent love life. And I’ve heard you Kindred have sharp senses but are they really that sharp?”
He nodded. “They are. But also…” He hesitated for so long Whitney wondered if he would go on. “Also I am attuned to you,” he said at last, just when she was about to prod him.
“What exactly does that mean—‘attuned to me?’” Whitney demanded, feeling intrigued. She was getting that warm, fluttery feeling in her belly again—the same feeling she’d had when he made his oath to her and when he’d lifted her into the cockpit of the ship and secured her straps. Could it be that her stoic Protector had just been waiting until they were finally on a mission alone together to make his move? She certainly hoped so!
But Rafe was frowning as he answered.
“My senses are razor sharp when it comes to you—but only because I was assigned to you,” he said quickly. “There is no other reason other than it is my duty to keep you safe.”
Whitney felt her heart sink but she tried to make light of the situation.
“Well I’m glad to know you’re looking out for me so diligently. Or maybe I should say, smelling out for me, since you’re such a detective with your nose.”
Rafe turned the full force of his golden gaze on her again.
“I would know your scent anywhere, mon’dalla. It is burned into my senses.”
Whitney’s heart jumped again. The way he was looking at her was just so intense. And talking about knowing her scent anywhere—that had to mean something. Also what was that he had called her?
“Mon-dalla?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light. “What does that mean? Is it some kind of a pet name?”
“More of a title,” Rafe answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. “It means one whom I care for—one whom I protect and serve. It is from the old language on my home world which is perhaps why your translation bacteria were unable to translate it for you.”
Like all the Kindred brides and other human personal who were brought aboard the Mother Ship to live, Whitney had been given a shot of translation bacteria which enabled her to understand just about any known language in the galaxy and beyond. Though he was right—his little nickname for her hadn’t translated.
“Oh, I see.” She nodded thoughtfully. “I like it. You can call me that anytime you want.”
“I may?” He looked at her in apparent surprise.
“Of course you can. As long as I can call you my big Boo-boo Bear.” Whitney made a kissy face at him and he scowled—but she thought she saw humor shining in his golden eyes.
“I do not approve of that name,” he growled.
“Oh, well I can think of others,” Whitney offered. “How about sweetie-pie? Or honey bun? Or—”
But just then the com-link crackled to life and a voice from the instrument array said,
“Scout ship, you are cleared to fly through the fold. Repeat, you are clear to fly.”
“Acknowledged,” Rafe replied. “Entering the fold now.” He turned to Whitney. “Hold on and don’t fear—this will only take a moment and we’ll soon be safely on the other side.”
“All right. I trust you.” Whitney nodded tightly and returned her eyes to the scarlet tear in the fabric of space time. It was growing larger and larger in the viewscreen and soon she knew they would be in it and she would get that weird, floaty feeling like time had slowed down for a split second which somehow lasted an eon. But then it would be over and she would see the blackness of space, dotted with stars on the other side and everything would be just fine.
Only that wasn’t how it happened…not at all.
Chapter Four
They flew through the fold in space, all right. But what Whitney saw on the other side wasn’t the comforting vastness of the universe. Instead, a whirling blue hole outlined in streaks of silver and cobalt light met her eyes. It was so huge it filled the entire viewscreen and it seemed to be getting bigger all the time.
“Oh my sweet baby Jesus!” she gasped. “What is that thing?”
“Must be a rogue wormhole,” Rafe grunted. His entire face was tight with effort and the muscles were bulging on his arms as he fought with the ship’s steering yoke. “Trying…to suck…us in,” he ground out as he wrestled with the controls.
“Trying to suck us in? Well don’t let it!” Whitney exclaimed, eyes wide.
“I’m trying.” Rafe’s deep voice was a growl of effort. “But we’re well within the event horizon of its gravity well. I’m afraid
if we resist too much it’ll…” he grunted again, fighting with the yoke. “Tear the ship apart.”
“Tear the ship apart? Oh no!” Whitney gasped. Closing her eyes, she started praying for all she was worth. “Don’t let this happen, please! Get us out of here now!”
Rafe must have thought she was talking to him because he threw an irritated look her way.
“I can’t help it. We’re too far in already. It’s either go where the hole takes us or wind up in chunks floating in space. Problem is, we don’t know where this goes—we’ll be completely lost when we get there.”
Whitney tightened her grip on the armrests of her seat and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Go then,” she said in a low voice. “If there’s no other way. It’s better to be lost than dead.”
He nodded shortly. “I agree. All right then—hold on.”
He did something to the controls and the engines—which had been making a scary, high-pitched whining—suddenly fell silent. At once they were sucked into the whirling blue vortex in space leaving the solar system of Vesuvius Two far behind.
Whitney tried not to but she couldn’t help opening her eyes. What she saw reminded her of one of those psychedelic roller coasters you could ride at some theme parks. The ones which had been built indoors in the dark so when you rode them you saw wild rainbow neon colors racing past which made you feel like you were going even faster than you were.
Only this is no roller coaster and I can’t get off and go home at the end of the ride, she thought grimly as the little ship dipped and bobbed, pulled endlessly and relentlessly along through the pulsating blue tube of the wormhole. Oh my God, what are we going to do—where are we going to end up?
Turning her head, she saw that Rafe was looking intently at the controls. But when he saw her looking, he turned to face her and held out a hand.
Whitney took it, feeling instantly better when her own, much smaller hand was clasped in his bigger, stronger one.
“Whatever happens, mon’dalla, my oath stays true,” he rumbled, gazing into her eyes. “I will not forsake or abandon you and I will protect you to the last drop of my blood. Do not fear.”
“Thank you,” Whitney whispered and felt even better. “Thank you, Rafe. I…I’ll stay by your side too. We’re going to get through this together.”
Just as she said those words, the wormhole ended abruptly. The blue tube spat them out into unfamiliar space and the ship was suddenly floating free, as though nothing had ever happened.
“Oh!” Whitney gasped as Rafe let go of her hand and grabbed for the controls again. “That was crazy! Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Rafe was rapidly punching something into the control bank’s Nav-Com and frowning at what he saw. “We’re in uncharted space—at least it hasn’t been charted by the Kindred or any of the sentient species we’ve dealt with. Which means we’re much too far from the Mother Ship for any communication, even if there wasn’t a solar storm going on at their end right now.”
“Uncharted space?” Whitney’s heart was suddenly in her mouth. “You mean we’re lost?”
Being lost far from home was a very, very big deal, considering that the Milky Way was one of trillions of galaxies spread out among an ever-expanding, nearly infinite universe. If they didn’t know where they were, how could they ever get home? And even if they did manage to find out their location, how could they transverse the vast distance back to their own galaxy without the Mother Ship to fold space for them?
“Quick,” Whitney said tightly. “Turn around and take us back to the wormhole. It brought us here—it should be able to send us back, right?”
But Rafe was shaking his head.
“I’m afraid the odds on that happening are about a billion to one,” he said grimly. With a stable wormhole, yes it would take us right back to where it had gotten us in the first place. But with a rogue, well—they jump around from galaxy to galaxy—some even say from universe to universe—and almost never lead to the same destination twice.”
“Still, it’s worth a try,” Whitney argued. “I mean, we can’t get anymore lost than we are, right?”
Rafe shrugged. “A fair point. All right, we can try.”
But when he started the engines on their little ship, a sharp, warning note of alarm immediately filled the cabin.
“What’s that?” Whitney exclaimed. “Oh my God, it really doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not.” Rafe scowled as he checked his instruments and made some adjustments. He shook his head. “It’s as I feared—fighting the wormhole in the first place has weakened the structural integrity of our hull. We need to stop someplace and make some repairs before we can risk the stress of a wormhole again.”
“Make repairs? Where? And can you turn off that alarm? It’s shredding my nerves!”
Rafe hit something which must have been a mute switch and studied the Nav-Com again.
“There’s a planet with a breathable atmosphere and solid ground to land on only a few parsecs from here,” he said, frowning. “It might even be inhabited by plant and animal life, though I think we’d better avoid those, since we don’t know what class of planet it is.”
“You got it. Avoid the natives, fix the ship. Try the wormhole again.” Whitney nodded shakily. She was beginning to feel a little better now that the blaring alarm was silenced and they had a plan. Then a new thought occurred to her. “Um, if the hull is weakened, will it hold up on the way down through this new planet’s atmosphere?”
Rafe frowned. “I think it will but there’s only one way to be sure—we have to land.”
“We do? I mean really? There’s no way you could make the repairs out here?” Whitney made a gesture that encompassed the empty space they were currently floating in.
“I’m afraid not,” Rafe said dryly. “The repairs I need to make require gravity to be effective. The weightless atmosphere of space is not conductive to effective work.”
“All right, I understand.” She nodded.
Rafe’s voice softened. “We don’ have to land right away if you don’t want to, Whitney,” he told her gently. “The ship is stocked with plenty of food cubes and our water reclamation unit is undamaged. We could live out here for months—even years—if we had to. Of course, after a time we would run out of fuel which would render us unable to land on a planet or take off again and that would effectively seal our fate.”
“How long a time?” Whitney asked in a small, tight voice.
He shrugged. “A standard week—give or take. The ship has extra fuel tanks but running the engines continuously will drain them eventually. The life support will continue because it’s hooked to the hydrogen scoop propulsion system but after a week, we’ll be unable to land or take off and we’ll be stuck floating in space forever. What would you like to do?”
Whitney bit her lip. “You’re letting me make this decision? I thought you were the captain of our ship—shouldn’t it be up to you?”
He shrugged. “Technically I suppose it should. But you have more to live for than I do—friends, family, a career. I only have you and the post I was assigned to as your Protector. So I think the decision should be yours.”
Whitney gave him a sidelong look.
“You don’t have any family? I mean, I knew you never talked about them but I thought that was just you being close-mouthed.”
Rafe looked away. “I used to have a family—the beginnings of one, anyway. No more, though.”
Whitney wanted desperately to ask him what he meant but there was a closed look on his dark face that told her the matter was private—extremely private. And seeing that this was as much as the big Beast Kindred had ever opened up to her, she didn’t want to push it.
She took a deep breath.
“All right, so it’s up to me.”
He nodded shortly. “Whatever decision you make, I will abide by.”
“Well, I won’t lie—I’m pretty tempted to float around out here for at least a week
taking our time before we reach the point of no return on the fuel tanks. But that’s not going to get us any closer to going home and I want to get back in time to attend Kat’s party.” She lifted her chin. “So I say, let’s do it—let’s go land on that planet and make the repairs.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“You’re basing this decision on your desire to attend a Ballow-steen party?”
Whitney smothered a laugh.
“It’s Halloween. And yes, I am in a way. Although really I’m just trying to talk myself out of being a coward. I’m a grown-ass woman—I should be willing and able to take a risk sometimes, even if it feels really scary.”
He nodded approvingly.
“I’m glad. I want to take the risk too. The sooner I can fix the hull, the sooner we can try the wormhole again.” He sighed. “Though I’m not at all certain where it will take us this time.”
“It’s going to take us home,” Whitney said with more certainty than she felt. “It has to. At any rate, that’s the assumption we’re going to operate under. To do anything else is to despair and I am not the despairing type.”
To her surprise, Rafe actually gave her a small, wry grin—the first such expression she’d seen on his usually grim features. It lightened his dark face and made him surprisingly handsome.
“I noticed that about you,” he said dryly. “That you’re not one to despair, I mean.”
“That’s right.” Whitney nodded decisively. “So come on—let’s go. Strange alien planet, here we come!”
“Here we come,” Rafe echoed and punched in a course for the habitable world. “And I’ll make you a promise,” he added, looking at her from the corner of his eye as he piloted. “If we do make it back in time for the Hallow-bean party, I’ll come with you.”
“You will?” Whitney was too excited to correct his pronunciation. “Will you let me make you a costume too? And get you all dressed up? Maybe you could be a wolf to my cat!”
That rare, wry smile tugged at the corners of his sensual mouth again.
Pairing with the Protector: A Kindred Tales Novel (Brides of the Kindred) Page 3
