When Dawn Breaks

When Dawn Breaks By

Kaitlyn O’Connor

WHEN DAWN BREAKS

Kaitlyn O’Connor

2

©copyright by Kaitlyn O’Connor, November 2007 Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright November 2007 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636 www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

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Chapter One If he’d been kicked in the gut, Lucifer thought with a mixture of fury and disbelief he carefully concealed, he did not think it could more effectively have knocked the breath from him than the question lodged at him by the group of scientists studying him with the same clinical detachment they would have felt for a fungus. All of them, that is, except for the woman—Nicole. As usual, she was struggling hard to pretend she was somewhere else, or part of the furnishings in the Spartan room where they held him. She was keenly aware of him, though, maybe more aware of him than any of the others, as hard as she tried to pretend that wasn’t so. Curious to know if the question had stunned her as much at it had him, he allowed his gaze to wander over her assessingly—or tried. He found it difficult to maintain any sort of detachment when he looked at her. It was hard to pinpoint what it was about her that made that impossible when it shouldn’t have been. He was sure he should have found the pale, wingless creature unappealing if not repulsive. He would have, he thought, if he had only been told about one such as her. That had not been the case, though—unfortunately. Despite all reason, from the moment he had first set eyes upon her he had been— fascinated with her. Obsessed might have been more accurate and that had been a purely physical reaction. The longer he studied her, though, the stronger the pull. Nothing had lessened the primal desire for her—not the pain and humiliation they inflicted on him, not her determination to ignore him or at least keep her distance—but the more he observed her, learned about her, the stronger the invisible chains that coiled around him until he could no longer discount it as purely physical. Unfortunately, as much as he would have liked to deny it, the attraction was on both a physical and an intellectual level. She was tiny, wingless, fragile, and so pale her skin seemed almost translucent, as speckled as a tynal egg—he had no idea why just looking at her was enough to make it nearly impossible for him to drag his mind from thoughts of claiming her, but so it was, and no amount of reasoning would banish the thoughts, and nothing she had done had even served to lessen what had quickly become an obsession. It wasn’t just his interest in her that appalled him. Under other circumstances he wouldn’t even have questioned it. He was a man—she was a woman—an exotic creature unlike any he’d ever seen before—and it had been a long time since he had had any opportunity to assuage his needs—a very long time. It was his inability to focus on anything else when she was near him that disturbed him when, at the very least, he shouldn’t have been able to dismiss the disaster from his mind even if he could have dismissed his personal circumstances. “I will demonstrate—with her,” he responded finally, mostly, he thought, to see how she would react—if he could get a reaction out of her at all.

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Or perhaps not, he thought ruefully when she lifted wide, pale blue eyes to meet his gaze for the first time—ever. Once, he thought, it would take only once and she would be his—and she would not be able to deny it. Then, maybe, he would be able to gain a little perspective. Nicole had been doodling on the pad she’d brought to make notes on, trying, without a great deal of success, to present an outward appearance of cool scientific objectivity in the subject under discussion—the sexuality of the Saitren, an alien race from a world he called Nadryl—but at that announcement she lifted her head with a jerk of surprise. For a handful of seconds, she met the gaze of the alien chained to the wall on the other side of the room, noted with an uncomfortable gallop of her heart rate that he was staring directly at her, and then looked around the room uncertainly, wondering who he was planning on ‘demonstrating’ with. Discovering that every eye in the room was now focused speculatively on her, she felt a heated blush begin in her face until her cheeks felt as if they were glowing. The realization that he’d meant her hit her between the eyes like a hammer blow, undeniable once it sank into her head that he’d been looking straight at her when he’d said it, and everyone, except her, had grasped that immediately. In vain, she waited for her fellow scientists to veto the suggestion—to scoff, express outrage. She realized after a few moments that they were waiting for her response. No—more accurately, she could see from the speculation in their eyes and the expectancy on their faces that they were wondering what she might have done to prompt the suggestion to start with and waiting for her to accept the ‘scientific’ challenge. Outrage surfaced. She ignored the slow churn of heat low in her belly that was a purely unscientific reaction to the suggestion and the look on the alien’s face—Lucifer, he called himself, appropriately enough, since he bore an uncanny resemblance to an ancient mythological being that had been known by the same name. Speculation over that similarity was rife, and the study team had broken into two factions. Half were convinced his kind had visited Earth centuries before and that the myths arose from these beings. The other half was equally convinced that he had somehow gained access to the ancient texts, realized the resemblance to himself, and was trying to convince them he was a descendent of beings who’d visited the Earth before. There were a few inconsistencies with the last that didn’t seem to bother those who clung to the latter theory so determinedly—he hadn’t claimed any such thing, and he spoke a Latin based language—English—in a previously unknown dialect which he called Saitren. The story, he might have managed, somehow, to access. The language—primarily Latin—was dead, had long fallen into disuse except as a written language, and, even at that, was not widely used. Moreover, there was no hesitancy to his speech, no groping for unfamiliar words as one might expect if it wasn’t his native tongue. He spoke it fluently and with the emphasis on specific words that carried the emotions behind the comments. She wasn’t a mathematician, but even to her the odds seemed astronomical that the same language would’ve developed on his world as theirs. The heavily manacled, dangerous being across the room from them certainly wasn’t a ‘nut case’ trying to convince them he was from the country of Heillius on another world— Nadryl—regardless of the uncomfortable similarity between the name of his land, his name, and

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his appearance to those ancient myths. Although in some respects he was amazingly humanlike—from his physical appearance, to his internal organs, and right down to his DNA—not just humanoid—in many more ways he was shockingly un-human. His skin was red—not just carrying a faintly reddish tint, but the red of a deep blush on a swarthy skinned person—not even close to anything considered ‘normal’ for humans. His hair was black, but the highlights greenish in tint—highlights no human hair held. Beyond the coloration of his hair and skin, he had horns—a pair of short, slightly curled, pointy nubs approximately an inch and a half long— sprouting from his forehead at the hairline—and wings which more nearly resembled the wings of a bat than anything else known to man—a thin membrane of reddish/purple skin stretched over spiny, jointed bones similar to the bones found in the hands and feet—or more accurately, she supposed, a bird’s wings. Her throat closed with emotions she didn’t want to identify when it dawned on her that her team mates were actually taking his suggestion seriously. “No!” Although she spoke to the room at large, her gaze had been snared by the Saitren man, and she couldn’t seem to look away. Something glittered in Lucifer’s dark eyes, but it was impossible to tell from his expression what was going through his mind—sex, she had to suppose, although there was nothing about his hard expression to indicate barely leashed, or even barely warm, passion. It was easier to decipher the expressions of the others. “We’ll consider this,” Dr. Murray said decisively, getting to his feet as if to dismiss the session. Nicole surged to her feet, as well, but before she could object further, the research team flowed around her. Someone grasped her arm in a firm grip, and she was ushered from the room. Too stunned to react at first, she shook the hand off when she discovered it was Dr. Sam Clements. “We need to consider this offer from a scientific standpoint,” he said coolly. Nicole felt her jaw go slack with disbelief. “There’s nothing to consider!” she snapped. “He’s offered to cooperate. This is the first time he’s cooperated in any way with our studies. We can’t simply dismiss the opportunity to study the Saitren procreation process due to a hysterical, purely feminine reaction. You’re a scientist, Dr. Williams! Your first priority should be in advancing our studies of this important species.” “She isn’t a guinea pig!” Dr. Sandra Waters volunteered indignantly. “Thank you for the voice of reason!” Nicole exclaimed, a little surprised that the younger woman, who’d never seemed to like her, had planted herself firmly on her side. “It’s outrageous for you to even expect me to volunteer—and I noticed no one asked! If you’re so hot to ‘explore’ the sexuality of the Saitren, you fuck him!” Dr. Boyd Murray glared at her. “That’s a prime example of hysteria if I ever heard one! You’ve no need to resort to crudities! He was very pointed in singling you out, Nicky. Obviously, he has a preference, aside from the fact that I am not a female and would be useless for the experiment.” “Crude language!” Nicole gasped furiously. “Exactly what would you call asking—no demanding—that I let that—alien mount me as if I was some sort of brood mare—nothing more than a lab animal? It sure as hell isn’t ‘making love’. If it offends your sensibilities to call it what it is, you’ll have to pardon me!” “I’ll volunteer,” Dr. Waters interjected just as everyone tensed to argue the matter. The comment took the wind out of everyone’s sails. Nicole gaped at the woman, wondering, since it let her off the hook, why resentment instantly swelled in her breast. “There!”

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she said, trying to infuse enthusiasm in her voice that she was far from feeling. “You have a female volunteer.” “You don’t think his sudden willingness to cooperate is suspect?” Dr. Mark Collins asked cautiously. The question drew everyone’s attention away from Sandra Waters. Mark, the youngest member of the team, reddened. “I’m just saying he hasn’t cooperated before. He’s resisted every step of the way—quite violently at times. Why would he suddenly capitulate—and on this point?” “We’ve been holding him for study for weeks,” Clements said dryly. “The sex drive of a human male is generally a good deal stronger than what he’s displayed thus far. I think it would be safe to assume his drive has overcome his reluctance to perform, especially with a human female—however unappealing he might find them.” He looked thoughtful when he’d finished and missed the glares both Nicole and Sandra sent him. “Can we assume, I wonder, that the Saitren don’t have the same drive as the human male? Or is it the circumstances? Or maybe just a lack of interest in the females available?” He looked Sandra and Nicole over speculatively, apparently noticed, then, that they’d taken exception to his assessment of their appeal to the male, and reddened slightly. “Not but what Drs. Waters and Williams aren’t reasonably attractive females—ah women.” Thank you for the high compliment, Nicole thought angrily. As if he had any room to talk about ‘reasonably’ attractive! “I can’t tell you how devastated I am to discover your opinion is that I fall somewhere between ‘reasonably’ attractive and unattractive, dough boy!” Sandra snapped. “Must we descend to juvenile name calling?” Murray demanded. “I guess we must if Dr. Clements is determined to share his personal opinion with us!” Sandra retorted. Clements glared at her for a moment but then turned thoughtful. “She has a point,” he murmured. “We should consider the ‘attraction’ factor of his request. If we’re to pursue this from a scientific standpoint, we should pull up all of the research we can in case studies on human sexuality and try to determine if he actually is sexually aroused by Nicky or if he had other motivations for offering and, if so, what they were. The studies would probably help us determine where Nicky stands in relation to her attraction to the human male, which would hopefully, in turn, allow us to determine the points of interest in the Saitren.” Not that he could figure it out himself, Nicole thought irritably, the pursuit of science having, apparently, neutered him somewhere along the way. She supposed she had no reason to quibble. She didn’t find Clements particularly attractive, and she certainly didn’t want him to be attracted to her. She had been moderately interested in Dr. Murray—the jackass!—but obviously that wasn’t mutual or he wouldn’t have suggested what he had. “I think this entire idea is in poor taste, aside from being less than ‘scientific’! I can’t believe any of you are actually considering it! We don’t have a Saitren female, so we can’t really study the reproduction of the Saitren—or their mating habits. Aside from—possibly—making him happy, exactly what is it you hope to accomplish with such an ‘experiment’? Sexuality isn’t even our field.” “We were called upon to discover everything we possibly could about this species,” Murray pointed out. “Whether it’s a specialty or not, we need to learn whatever we can. If, as the government suspects, he’s some sort of … scout, maybe his purpose for suggesting it is because that’s one of the things he wants to learn to take back to his people? Whether or not our

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females would be suitable for mating purposes?” “That’s … really reaching!” Nicole snapped. “It’s obvious from his physiology that they procreate like most of the animals on this planet, including mankind—which means they have females. Why would they have any interest in females of another species?” “They’re actually more like another race than another species,” Mark pointed out. “We’ve already determined that—that there are only very minor differences between us—on a genetic level.” Nicole narrowed a look at him. “Fine! It’s obvious the majority have already decided to pursue this avenue of study. I don’t agree that it’s necessary or desirable, but since Dr. Waters has volunteered, I’m willing to leave it at that—that I disagreed with the general consensus.” **** No one was more stunned by her offer than Sandra was. She wasn’t even certain of where it had come from. It had been an impulse, and it was a while before she could decide whether it was the most stupid urge she’d ever yielded to or the most brilliant. She decided as they settled to discussing the ‘project’ that it was the most brilliant after all. Obviously, brains weren’t enough to get anywhere in this field dominated by men. She wanted recognition while she was still young enough to bask in it, to really enjoy it. She didn’t want to be recognized posthumously for her achievements. If fucking an alien was the root to glory, then, by damn, she could do it. She was terrified at the prospect but strangely titillated by it, as well. He wasn’t hard on the eyes—definitely scary looking—but not repulsive. His cock unnerved her. If anything, it was more alien looking than he was. It was ridiculous, she assured herself, to consider it dangerous in any way. It was big, and it was going to be a challenge mounting something that damned big, but, despite the appearance of it, it was a cock and designed for impregnating their females. It wasn’t going to suddenly transform into something horrible the moment he was inside of her. She didn’t have to worry about his cock. It was him she had to worry about, because it did cross her mind that he’d only made the offer because he was hoping to get the chance to kill at least one of his tormenters. She’d taken care not to cause him any more pain than she could help, though. She hadn’t empathized with his plight, hadn’t tried to befriend him. She’d been careful to remain completely professional at all times, but she’d been careful not to add any more to his discomfort than she could help. She could see the hatred simmering in his eyes any time any of them went near him, though. She doubted her efforts had been appreciated—maybe not even noticed. He’d noticed Nicole, though, she thought irritably. Why, she had no idea. The woman was a mouse—pretty enough, she supposed, in a fresh faced, clueless way—very girl next doorish—but certainly nothing to get all excited about. In fact, she strongly suspected Lucifer had chosen her because she was such a mouse. Not chosen her, she corrected, made the offer for her because he knew Nicole would pass out from sheer terror at the thought. He’d probably thought it would be amusing to see her reaction. She’d seen the look on his face when Nicole had bolted out of her chair and flatly refused. He’d expected it, anticipated that reaction. It had enraged him, but she’d seen a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, too, that he’d managed to breach that frozen wall Nicole held before her like a shield, daring any man to cross

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it. Obviously, he’d wanted the challenge. Too bad. He was going to have to settle for her—damn him! She should’ve known he was the type of man that preferred being the hunter. Inwardly, she shrugged. Actually, she’d deduced that, but it had been too late to retract by then. She’d allowed him to see she wasn’t disinterested, that she appreciated that fine body and impressive tool he carried around. She hadn’t thought she’d been that obvious when she’d examined him, but realized, too late, that she had when she’d seen the look in his eyes. Luc was a man accustomed to female appreciation. He knew it when he saw it, and, unfortunately, it had only seemed to antagonize him—being helpless and exposed to her curious gaze. She wasn’t certain if it was that incident that had made him turn to Nicole, or if it was just the challenge Nicole represented, and, maybe, she had put the notion in his head when he’d seen at least one human female didn’t find him distasteful. She didn’t care either. Dr. Murray wanted to do this series of tests on the alien, and he needed a volunteer. She was going to get to experience what it was like to have sex with an alien and, at the same time, make points with her boss—bosses—that was going to make them take her more seriously as a scientist. After all, the most famous, respected scientists of all were those who went boldly where no one else would tread, those willing to risk their lives for knowledge that would help mankind when needed. She could be the Madame Curie of alien investigation! **** Nicole hadn’t been happy before she’d been briefed on the special project she’d been called in on. It was only the none too subtle threat that the government might pull her grant money that had brought a grudging agreement to start with. She hated working with the government. She’d only been called upon one time before, and that had left a bad taste in her mouth. This was worse. Much worse. Despite everything they’d said—which wasn’t really much—she’d expected to find the corpse of an alien creature when they’d finally been escorted to the observation room to see what they’d been gathered to study. She’d expected something that looked ‘out of this world’, maybe not even like a living thing at all—a rock or plant or something of that nature. She hadn’t expected to see the intelligent, uncomfortably man-like being she had. She hadn’t expected him to be very much alive. She hadn’t expected the rage she sensed in him, although she supposed she should have and would have if she’d realized beforehand that it was a living, sentient being that they had captured and brought in to torment for the sake of science. It was as clear as a bell when they’d first arrived that the government/military had tortured him for the scant information they’d gotten out of him—and there was precious little. Language specialists had been brought in first, but he’d spoken so few words in the beginning that it had taken them a while to figure out he was actually speaking a language similar enough to one particular—ancient—Earth language that they could understand him. By the time her team had been called in, they had translators in place. That should have made their job easier except that he hadn’t been any more inclined to talk to them than he had the

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torturers that had come before. Guiltily, she thought what they’d done was probably nearly as bad as the torture. Dr. Murray, who was in charge, hadn’t been the least bit perturbed about the fact that he wouldn’t talk. None of them were actually accustomed to getting their answers delivered to them through speech. They’d simply set about running tests, poking and prodding, and collecting ‘samples’ for analysis as if he was dead. It had bothered her—a lot. She hadn’t said anything because she knew she’d be ignored—or worse. She hadn’t left because she couldn’t. She wouldn’t have come to begin with if she’d had a choice. But it was a nightmare to her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how horrible it must be for him. She wished herself a thousand miles away at least once a day. She’d been looking forward to the conclusion of their study almost since she’d arrived. The only reason she wasn’t looking forward to it any longer was because she’d come to realize that, at the conclusion, they were going to kill him. There were a lot of very good reasons why they couldn’t let him go, but she thought the strongest was because they realized after what they’d done there was no way they were going to ‘make friends’ with these aliens. Even if he wasn’t the scout for an invasion as they’d first thought—and there was no evidence either way—his hatred was evident. He wouldn’t be returning to his own people with anything good to say about them. If she hadn’t been terrified of the consequences, she would’ve considered releasing him. She actually had considered it. She’d dismissed it almost as quickly. Assuming he didn’t linger long enough once she removed his restraints to take her apart for having a hand in his torture, he still couldn’t escape. Security was unbelievably tight, and she had no clue of how it might be circumvented, was pretty sure it couldn’t be breached. It occurred to her after a while that he might not care, that, after all he’d been put through he might prefer the chance of escape even if the probability of his death in the attempt was high. It might be quicker and less painful. But then she would have to pay the price because she was pretty sure she couldn’t get away with it without being caught. And since she’d begun thinking about it, her conscience had been at war with her sense of self-preservation. This was going to end badly for her, she knew, one way or another. Either she was going to reach a point where her sympathy and her conscience overrode her sense of self-preservation. Or she was going to protect herself and then she was going to have to live with it. “You’re afraid.” The comment so closely followed her thoughts that Nicole sent Lucifer—or Luc as she thought of him—a startled look, wondering, briefly, if he had telepathic abilities. They’d seen nothing to indicate that possibility, though, and she thought it was probably her expression that had given her thoughts away. She was tempted to ignore the remark. “Shouldn’t I be?” she asked instead, wondering if he would try to convince her he wasn’t dangerous. Which she sure as hell wouldn’t believe for a moment. She’d seen the things he was capable of. No human man possessed such amazing, frightening strength. It took two very strong men to hold him even when they’d drugged him until he was hardly able to stay on his feet. He’d broken free of his restraints twice since he was captured, and each time they’d brought in heavier cuffs and chains. After the first two times, when he’d nearly escaped, they’d

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cuffed his wrists and his ankles with thick chains sunk into the wall that only allowed the range of half the room when he was free to ‘move around’. It took four strong men to secure him to the gurney when they wanted him supine for tests. “You have no reason to fear that I would harm you … but that isn’t what’s really bothering you, is it? You’re afraid you might enjoy it.” She could no more prevent the blush that scalded her cheeks than she could stop the quiver deep in her belly at his words. She cleared her bone dry throat, ignoring the shiver that went through her that had absolutely nothing to do with fear. The taunting note of his voice pricked her, making her incautious. “Spoken like a man,” she said, striving for a dry tone. “I’ll need to make a note that the Saitren male’s ego is as inflated as the human male’s.” His dark eyes glittered with anger, but a faint smile curled his lips that held just enough certainty to send a warning peeling through her. “If you believe it is no more than a hollow boast, you have no reason to concern yourself at all, do you? You can yield to your scientific curiosity regarding the mating habits of the Saitren,” he said coolly. “Since what they’ve suggested wouldn’t be even remotely akin to mating, I can’t see that it would be of any scientific value,” she said tartly. “You may be absolutely certain that it will be mating, that you will know when I am done that you are mine, and that I will give you pleasure such as you’ve never known.” Disconcerted didn’t even begin to describe her feelings, and the fact that she was didn’t detract one iota from the heated arousal that wafted through her, setting her nerve endings to jangling. “If you mean sexually, and you could,” she said in a suffocated voice, “that wouldn’t be much of a challenge. I’ve been told I’m frigid, and I’m pretty sure they’re right.” She had been before, at any rate. She wasn’t nearly as certain now. The only thing she was sure of was that she wanted to take him down a few pegs—partly because of his supreme self-assurance but mostly because she was afraid he was right. She refused to meet his eyes again, staring hard at the readouts from the monitors. She could tell he was studying her, though. “I believe that is a challenge.” Nicole sent him a startled look despite her determination to ignore him. His gaze caught and held hers while her heart rate hitched upward a few more notches. She’d made it a point to avoid eye contact with him altogether, which meant she hadn’t actually looked at his face—not enough to actually detail it—only a glimpse from time to time when she couldn’t avoid looking in his direction. A flicker of surprise went through her when she discovered he was actually a handsome creature, his facial features far more human-like than she’d realized. In point of fact, if not for the coloration of his skin—if she ignored the horns and the folded wings behind his shoulders— he looked just like a man in the face and one, moreover, well above average in terms of attractiveness. His features were regular, pleasingly symmetrical if somewhat harsh and angular. There was nothing ‘pretty’ about him, that was certain, but handsome—reluctantly, she admitted to herself that she thought that he was. She dragged her gaze from his with an effort. “I hate to disappoint you, but it wasn’t a challenge. It was merely a statement of fact.” His lips curled in a smile that made her stomach do a jitter even though she only caught it out of the corner of her eye. “That you have no doubt I could pleasure you as no other?” She felt her face redden. “That if you gave me any at all it would be bound to be more that I’d ‘ever known’. Unfortunately, we’ll never know.”

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“You will. I promise.” A shiver skated through her. She couldn’t resist meeting his gaze again. What she saw there both unnerved her and sent a fresh, uncomfortable wash of excitement along her nerve endings. She swallowed with an effort against the sudden tightness in her throat as it flickered through her mind, suddenly, that this man would never know pleasure again, let alone give it. “I’m sorry, Luc. I really am sorry,” she whispered, clasping her clipboard more tightly to her chest and moving quickly away from him. “What did he say to you?” Sandra asked as she scurried out of the room and quickly closed the door behind her. Nicole sent Sandra a startled glance. “I didn’t understand it,” she lied. Sandra’s pencil thin, arched brows rose almost to her hair line. Speculation flickered in her dark eyes. “I thought you were starting to understand him without the translators?” Nicole feigned a look of surprise. “Why would you think that?” “Because it sounded like you were answering him.” Nicole shrugged offhandedly. “I told him I was sorry I couldn’t understand him. Maybe he needs something? You should check.” **** Pain and rage had been his constant companions for so long that Lucifer had lost track of the time he had been entombed in the darkworld of mankind’s making, and the irony was that he had come—this time—with good intentions. He had known about this world because his people had come before to conqueror and subjugate—known about all the worlds they had plundered long ago. But that was long ago—generations—and they had evolved beyond the barbarians they once were, turned their energies to building their own civilization instead of plundering and destroying the civilizations of other peoples. He had come to warn them of the swarm that threatened every planet in its path. He had come in hope of finding help for his own world, if it came to that, but the benefit would have been to both—help for his world, an early warning for the world of mankind. It did not matter, now, what his intentions had been. It was too late for both worlds to find the weapon to fight the plague. His world was probably dead already, and this one’s days were numbered. And he hated them too much, now, for what they had done to him to care what happened to them, to give a gods be damn if they, eventually, decided to listen to what he had come to tell them. If it was too late for his world because they were more interested in torturing him than believing him, he hoped they all died. The thought had no more settled in his mind than it was followed by a prickling awareness of untruth. He did not want Nicole to die. There were a lot of things he wanted to do to her himself that might make her wish she was dead, but he had no intention of leaving her to the swarm. Her, he would take with him when he escaped the bastards—and he would escape. He had found the way at long last. The pity in her eyes, as much as it infuriated him, as much as it withered his soul to see such a look in the eyes of a woman he desired, told him all he needed to know about her weakness—she was soft hearted and empathetic to his pain. All he needed was cunning—and the right human to manipulate. Nicole. ****

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Every precaution had been taken for Sandra’s safety, and Nicole had to admit that the way they had the room rigged it was a far cry from a ‘porno’ set up, which was something like she’d envisioned. She still wasn’t comfortable being an observer, but it was expected of her, and she thought she’d already made it too obvious her heart wasn’t ‘in’ this project—any aspect of it. Their military liaison had given her more than one uncomfortably speculative look, and Dr. Murray had cooled toward her noticeably. They thought she was a loose cannon. If she didn’t watch herself, she was going to be in deep shit. The men had taken ‘front row’ seats, thankfully, hovering over the monitors and giving directions to Mark, who was in the room with Luc, applying the sensors to points of interest—his head, chest, and groin area. Nicole tried not to look at his genitals, but one glance was enough to rivet her attention and answered at least part of the question as to why the men in the group were so fascinated with his reproductive equipment. It was long and thick and like nothing she’d ever seen before except that it was the same general shape as a human penis. It looked as if it was covered in knobby warts, however, from root to tip. She didn’t know what the things were and couldn’t imagine what purpose they might serve, but it wasn’t any sort of infection, she was sure—or certain Dr. Murray was convinced it wasn’t or he wouldn’t have agreed to the study. He didn’t have the growths anywhere else on his body, in any case, which certainly seemed to rule out the possibility of any sort of eruption. It piqued her scientific curiosity at the same time it unnerved her on another level. If she’d been close enough to examine him more thoroughly …. He had two penises, she discovered with a jolt, or at least something jutting from his belly just above the thick member she’d been studying. It was much smaller than the one she’d been studying, and her mind went chaotic with the effort to figure out the purpose of that. It popped in her mind that, in the mythology she’d studied in search of similarities between their alien and the ‘evil demon’ of Earth lore, he’d been described as having a ‘forked’ tail in many of them. As far as she was concerned, that clenched it. His species, or race if she accepted Mark’s theory, had been to Earth before. Just as obviously, his more advanced species had terrified the indigenous people, at the very least, or they wouldn’t have become part of human lore as ‘demons’. It was debatable whether they’d actually done anything to deserve such notoriety. He unnerved them, all of them, whether they wanted to admit it or not, and they weren’t ignorant and superstitious as early man had been. Their appearance alone would probably have been sufficient to terrorize the natives, and any sort of advanced technology they’d displayed would have seemed like magic—completely incomprehensible ‘abilities’ to the primitive minds of the time. When Mark had attached the wires to the electrodes, he fitted what looked like a dog’s choke collar around Luc’s neck—except it had an electric cord instead of a lead. “If there is any attempt to harm the woman this will be used to render you unconscious.” Luc’s eyes narrowed on Mark’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Sandra, wearing a full length lab coat, entered the room as Mark finished adjusting the control collar. Luc’s gaze moved from Mark to Sandra, settled on her face for a long moment,

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and then moved to the two way mirror that fronted the observation booth—or, more specifically, directly to her. She froze. As certain as she’d been before that he couldn’t possibly see them— or, more importantly, her—a shiver skated down her spine when she met his gaze and saw the glitter of absolute fury in his eyes.

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Chapter Two Catching the direction of Luc’s gaze, Dr. Murray turned around and looked at Nicole. “He can see me,” Nicole whispered in a suffocated voice, too unnerved even to consider trying to hide it. Dr. Murray frowned. “He can’t. He’s just guessed that we’re in here. It isn’t as if he isn’t intelligent enough to figure it out.” Nicole wasn’t convinced. Human eyes might not be able to penetrate the special glass, but he didn’t have human eyes. He seemed to be looking directly at her. That was a hell of a coincidence in her book. After an interminable time, he released her from that penetrating gaze and turned to look at Sandra again. As casually as if she was completely unconcerned—which Nicole supposed she must be, or she was a hell of actress—Sandra unfastened the lab coat and allowed it to slip from her shoulders and fall to the floor, leaving her as completely nude as Luc was. Mark entered the control room and moved immediately to the window. She couldn’t say that she blamed him. Sandra’s café au lait complexion looked as smooth and flawless as silk, and she had the body of a temptress—breasts that were full and beautifully rounded without being particularly large, a deep curve between breast and hip that formed an impossibly small waist, rounded hips, beautifully sculpted legs. Nicole had had no idea the woman hid such a beautiful figure beneath the shapeless lab coats they all wore. Obviously, the men hadn’t either. Their gazes were riveted to her as she moved to the bed and settled on it, their faces slack and expressionless. Any minute, Nicole thought irritably, they were going to start drooling. She found she didn’t particularly want to see Luc’s reaction, but she couldn’t help but look anyway. She couldn’t tell anything about his expression, but his penis had risen to the occasion so she supposed that answered the question fluttering around in the back of her mind. Resentment settled uncomfortably in her belly as he followed Sandra to the bed. He said something to her—too low to catch—and she sat up and turned around in the bed so that her head was at the foot of the bed. It broke the spell holding the men in the room who, she realized abruptly, had been waiting for her to spread her legs. It broke the spell holding her, too, and her resentment blossomed a little higher as it occurred to her that he’d asked her to turn so they couldn’t see her as well. She realized after a moment, with both surprise and more than a little dismay, that the nauseous feeling churning in her belly was more than resentment. It was jealousy. Or maybe it was just envy that Sandra had a drop dead figure she would’ve killed for? The thought discomfited her. Not because she felt it, but because it dawned on her as it hadn’t before that she’d be the one in that room being studied under a microscope if she hadn’t refused to have anything to do with it. Somehow, she doubted any of the men would’ve been drooling over her skinny, fish belly white body. Not that she was a pole. Her breasts were nearly as large as Sandra’s—not as prettily rounded, but almost as big, her waist nearly as small,

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her hips reasonably womanly and rounded. It was the ‘nearly’ that bothered her, the ‘not quite’ as lovely, and the fact that her natural coloring was so ungodly white and splotched with freckles any where the sun had ever touched her. She’d always hated her white, white skin, avoiding the sun because she had to. Over exposure made her burn and then peel as if she had some kind of horrible skin disease, which left her as white as before, except dotted with freckles—and that was on a ‘good’ day. She’d nearly been hospitalized twice for sun poisoning before she’d finally gotten it into her head that she couldn’t get enough sun to make her freckles ‘run together’ and give her even skin tones. Oh the kids had loved to torment her about her freckles when she was a child! ‘She’s got freckles on her but … she’s pretty just the same.’ She’d never been certain whether they enjoyed singing that to her because it gave them the opportunity to say something naughty—‘butt’—or at least imply it, without getting into trouble, or if it was because it made her so mad she couldn’t see straight—probably both. The distraction of her thoughts didn’t help her feelings and didn’t even serve to distract her for more than a few moments. When Luc climbed onto the bed with Sandra, positioning himself between her sprawled thighs, she was drawn to watch even though she’d told herself that she wouldn’t. She would be present, but she wouldn’t watch, wouldn’t need to because the men, she knew, would be fully focused on what was going on and wouldn’t know the difference. She might have been able to stick to her original intention except that, as Luc settled his weight on his elbows, he lifted his head as he had before and looked directly at her. She knew suddenly, and without any doubt, that he could see her, and the suspicion arose that that was the reason he’d told Sandra to turn around. It wasn’t a coincidence that he’d looked directly at her—twice now. After holding her gaze for a moment as if to say—watch—he dipped his head and kissed Sandra. Her skin pebbled—hers—she couldn’t tell if Sandra’s did or not, but she certainly returned the kiss with enthusiasm. Nicole felt her throat close. Her breath caught in her lungs. Warmth spread through her as if he was kissing her, not Sandra. And resentment rose afresh. This time it was harder to convince herself the twinge of anger and nausea wasn’t jealousy. She dragged her gaze from the two of them with an effort, scribbling on her pad, not taking notes. **** Luc had not realized just how much he was looking forward to having Nicole right where he wanted her until he realized he had been duped. He should not have been surprised. These people lied as easily as they breathed. In truth, he was not surprised, but he was disappointed, vastly disappointed. And enraged. She had slipped through his fingers. He had been certain he had snared her in his trap. He knew how anxious their little group was to make a ‘breakthrough’, to come up with something their government would find at least a little useful—knew their military was growing restless and angry while the scientists piddled around with their lab animal, charting his biological stats, when all their government really wanted to know was why he had come—the ‘real’ reason, not the one he had told them. It was the other female—the one with the smooth dark skin and curious eyes—that had put the idea in his mind. Not the sex—the offer. The sex had been on his mind since they had brought Nicole in, since he had caught the first, faint whiff of whatever it was she wore on her skin, since he had felt the first impersonal touch of her cool fingertips, the first, inadvertent brush

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of her soft skin along his. He was not certain what had set off the raging lust to have her, and he did not care. He hated her for it, hated her worse because she would not even look at him, because she made him feel more like an animal than the others did. Actually, she did not even give him that much. She behaved as if he was an inanimate object—a rock or a plant she was studying that had no intelligence, that felt neither pain, nor humiliation. He had only thought it enraged him that the others refused to view him with the respect due a sentient being and treated him as if he was a lab animal. She tried to act as if he did not exist at all. Except when he had spoken to her, finally broken down and tried to force her to acknowledge him—even though he had told himself he would not. The pity he had seen in her eyes was the worst of all. Pity! On his world he was a man that commanded respect—or fear. No one had ever looked at him with pity, certainly no female. He would cheerfully have choked the life out of her in that moment if he could have gotten his hands on her. He was glad for it once the rage had finally cooled to a simmer. Except for the lust that had been almost as much a torment as the things they had done to him, he had begun to feel more dead than alive, felt himself sinking into apathy when his strength began to ebb from the constant pain they inflicted. A sense of purpose had filled him with the rage, though. The thoughts that had been slowly churning in his subconscious had finally coalesced. He was going to use her to regain the freedom taken from him, and, once he had it, he was going to make her regret she had humiliated him by pitying him, trampling all over his already bleeding ego and making him feel like a fool on top of every other indignity they had heaped upon him. The cold blooded bitch! She might think she was immune, but she was not. She might think he was repulsive. She might scream bloody murder when he took her, but from what he had read of them, human women were just as susceptible to the seductive enzymes as their own females. One taste of it, and she was all his—to do whatever he wanted. She would not just let him do what he wanted. She would beg him before he was done with her. Then she could find out for herself what it was like to be helpless and treated as if she was nothing. **** “Look at her eyes.” Drawn by some note in Murray’s voice that she couldn’t quite decipher, Nicole reluctantly lifted her head to look, although she doubted he was talking to anyone in particular. “She looks … drugged,” Clements responded. “Desire?” Mark responded in a strange voice, studying the video feed from the camera they’d rotated when Luc had tried to thwart their efforts to watch by turning in the bed. Except Nicole was no longer convinced that was why he’d done it. He was staring at her again, she discovered with a jolt. He came up on his knees between Sandra’s splayed thighs, stroking his penis. Caught by the motion, Nicole looked. He hadn’t been fully erect, she realized about the same time everyone else did. The

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movement of his hand also drew her attention to the ‘blemishes’ on his phallus. They weren’t blemishes or warts, she discovered. It was some sort of erectile tissue, like nipples. Fully erect, they stood out, creating a ‘spiny’ effect that would’ve unnerved her if she hadn’t seen that it was soft tissue before and couldn’t possibly be as ‘lethal’ as it looked. “I’ll be damned!” Murray commented, a touch of awe in his voice. “Built in French tickler.” Nicole wasn’t familiar with the term—her love life sucked, and she didn’t have a hell of a lot to draw from—but she gathered from the fact that Murray was impressed that that was supposed to be a good thing—for someone. As Luc settled closer to Sandra to align his flesh with hers, Nicole turned her head away, or started to. The camera Murray had positioned to catch the ‘event’ snagged her attention. The ‘growth’ above his penis was some sort of prehensile appendage. As he entered her, it attached itself to her clitoris—and attached was the operative word. It opened to cup it, adhered to it— somehow. Heat skittered through her and settled low in her belly. She shifted uncomfortably after a moment and discovered the men were as mesmerized as she’d been. Not one of them even glanced at the monitors they’d so carefully set up to record everything. Not that they needed to. The monitors were recording. They could study the data at any time and obviously they were far more interested in watching the show than the blips on the screens that were recording heart rate and respiration, etc. Her gaze flickered to the infrared camera recording body heat. Without a lot of surprise, she saw the heat rise in Sandra’s genital area—and Luc’s. Within moments Sandra was gasping and moaning as if she was dying, shifting feverishly beneath him. He leaned down and kissed her again, and a puzzled frown knit Nicole’s brows as she saw the heat rise significantly in every erogenous zone—Sandra’s mouth, her breasts, her genitals, along her spine, at every pulse point. He looked at her pointedly when he lifted his head again. This time, unlike the time before, Sandra didn’t even seem to notice his attention was divided between her and the Nicole. Maybe, she thought, he was merely watching himself in the mirror? She wasn’t convinced. If anything Sandra looked more ‘drugged’ than before, and the suspicion arose that there was more to his kiss than just that he was very good at it. She didn’t know why she thought that unless it was because she was having difficulty believing Luc was so damned good that he could do that to a woman when he was barely giving her half of his attention. Maybe she was flattering herself. Maybe he actually was watching himself in the mirror, but she had the distinct feeling that he was playing to her—not the mirror, not the cameras, not the scientists plastered to the window like peepers at a bawdy show—her. She didn’t know if she was more angry or more aroused. It disturbed her that she was aroused at all, though. It also disturbed her that she was angry. She shouldn’t feel anything at all about the display other than scientific curiosity—or personal disgust. She was certain she should be disgusted. Instead, she felt her heat index rise almost proportionally to Sandra’s. Maybe faster. She was so hot all over sweat popped from her pores. Her panties were damp. Try as she might to convince herself it was the stuffy room and it was sweat collecting between her tightly clenched thighs, the fluttering demand in her sex gave

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it the lie. He seemed in no great hurry. He seemed to be taking his damned time getting done with it. She glanced at her watch and discovered they’d been ‘at’ it for a good ten minutes already. Jesus! He hadn’t been too damned horny, as Clements had so delicately put it. If he’d agreed just because he couldn’t hold out any longer and needed release, he should’ve been quick about it, surely? She shifted again and went back to doodling furiously on her note pad. Sandra’s moans and groans of pleasure grated on her until she found herself grinding her teeth together so hard her jaw began to ache—and still it went on and on until she began to glance at the door, wondering if she could escape. “Shall I let her come, Nicky?” The question wrenched Nicole’s head around so sharply she got a cramp in her neck. She met his gaze again, peripherally aware that the other men in the room had turned to look at her. “Suit yourself!” she snapped before she thought better of it, jolting out of her chair and stalking from the room before it occurred to her just how much she’d revealed to her team members in that little display of temper—and worse, to herself. **** The only thing worse, Nicole reflected, than witnessing the sexual intercourse between Sandra and Luc was listening to the team rehashing it and analyzing it to death. Contrary to what she’d thought, indeed hoped would be the case, Sandra hadn’t been so out of it she hadn’t noticed the byplay between Luc and her. Not that she’d wanted anything to do with it, but it obviously hadn’t occurred to Sandra that she hadn’t instigated it and hadn’t wanted any part of—whatever it was Luc had been doing. She’d emerged from the experience with a distant look in her eyes and a glow that had made Nicole struggle with the urge to do or say something unforgivably stupid and, hours later, still appeared to be floating on a euphoric high. That didn’t prevent Sandra from giving her the evil eye, though,—whenever she wasn’t wearing a look of smug satisfaction. “He secretes some sort of chemical in his salvia,” Sandra said emphatically. “I’m not denying that I was sexually aroused—I was—highly aroused.” She cut her eyes at Nicole. Nicole curled her fingers into her palm to quell the itch to slap her silly. “This was almost—like being enthralled, though. I didn’t notice it at first, not really, but after a while I came to realize that every time he kissed me it—somehow—prevented me from reaching orgasm while still maintaining the highest levels of arousal. I had the distinct impression that he could’ve held me there as long as he wanted to.” “Obviously, this isn’t something they’re unaware of. His remark to Nicky clearly indicates that,” Clements commented. “The question is, is this something that they can command? And if so, does it work the same on their women as it does ours?” “The question is,” Sandra said tightly, “why was he so damned interested in what Nicky thought about it?” Nicole shifted uncomfortable as all eyes turned to her, flickered to Sandra, and back again. “Mind games,” Mark said succinctly, nodding. “He’s trying to play the team against one another, looking for an advantage since it seems he’s detected a weak spot.”

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“Thinks he has,” Sandra corrected him, giving him a narrow eyed look that dared him to challenge her statement. “But it ….” He broke off at Sandra’s expression. “Never mind.” “He thinks he can make us jealous of one another. What do you think, Nicky?” ‘Nicky’ thought she was getting damned tired of everyone calling her Nicky. No one had before Luc had started calling her that. She pasted an insincere smile on her face. “I think he’s reaching, Sandy. What do you think?” “Are you jealous?” Nicole blinked at her in disbelief. She couldn’t believe the woman had challenged her point blank. “Of what?” “Luc’s interest in me?” Nicole narrowed her eyes. “You made yourself available, and he fucked you, Sandra. Get over it.” “This is supposed to be a scientific discussion,” Murray blurted before Sandra, who’d turned red faced with fury, could say more. “Then consider this,” Nicole said pointedly. “According to legends—if we consider the possibility that his kind has visited Earth before—they were able to enthrall. He wanted a woman for just that reason—You gave him one—and now she’s showing signs of being under his control. That should be what you’re worried about right now—not the size of his penis, the simply fascinating aspects of his genitalia, or how long he can go before he ejaculates.” Ignoring Sandra’s glare, she got up and collected her clipboard. “I’m going to my quarters. When the rest of you are finished discussing the porn show we watched a little while ago and ready to discuss our findings in a more rational, less emotional way, let me know.” **** It had sounded good, Nicole mused when she’d flopped onto her bunk to stare at the ceiling. She would’ve been more pleased with her performance, though, if she hadn’t felt damned emotional about the situation herself. Mind control. She tried to be objective in analyzing the possibility, but it wasn’t easy when images of Luc and Sandra’s lewd tangle kept creeping into her mind. It wasn’t mind control, she decided finally. It was manipulation. He was an intelligent being. They’d placed him in a position where his incredible strength was useless to him. He had nothing but his mind to use as a weapon and all the time in the world to consider how he could use it because he’d had nothing else to think about for weeks. She didn’t know what the females on his own world thought about him—maybe he wasn’t attractive to them, though she sincerely doubted that. There was an attitude about him that was supremely confident male—regardless of where the male was from—and that came from female appreciation. Men behaved that way when success was almost assured any time a woman took their fancy. Unfortunately, he was attractive to the females on terra firma, too. She wasn’t immune. She’d tried to convince herself she was, but she wasn’t. It didn’t hurt that she sympathized with his plight. The things that had bothered her from the very beginning only got worse as time went on and she saw, had to participate, in his ‘rape’. And it was rape. There was no point in trying to whitewash it. Treating an intelligent being as they had was brutalization of the worst kind. It didn’t matter that she tried her best not to hurt him. None of the others, except maybe Sandra, even seemed aware that he was capable of feeling pain and

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humiliation. He suffered in silence, no matter what they did to him. Maybe that was why they didn’t think of what they did as inflicting pain. She saw it in the tension in him, though, knew he was bracing himself. She’d known she would see it in his eyes if she looked, and she’d been too much of a coward to look. So she had empathy, respect, and her conscience working against her and for him already. That would’ve been enough, she thought, to turn her, but then he’d noticed her—not many men did—and undoubtedly had noticed she found him attractive. So he’d added seduction to the equation. Obviously, he’d been working on Sandra, too, maybe more than even Sandra realized. It was hard to say what Sandra’s motives for volunteering had been, but she suspected that, at least in the beginning, it had been a combination of factors—a purely feminine interest in Luc, a sense of adventure, maybe, and ambition. She didn’t know Sandra well, hadn’t worked with her before, but she knew the type. Sandra was one of the type of scientists Nicole really hated—smart, beautiful, savvy, and ambitious, and willing to use every asset to forward their ambition—and they were damned good at it. She fell somewhere between total geek and absentminded professor herself. She’d never really grasped the politics of science. It wasn’t that she didn’t have any ambitions herself. She wanted to make a breakthrough that would make her famous—so she’d never have to worry about having to beg for grant money again. She wanted recognition and respect from her peers. She just didn’t know how to go about getting it besides working her butt off. Sandra, though, she knew, or at least she knew how to go after it. So, had she gotten tangled up in this jump? Nicole was pretty sure she had. Clearly, Luc did secrete something potent and damned addictive in the course of sexual intercourse. Sandra had admitted it herself, and that had been the scientist talking. Just as clearly, whatever he’d made her feel had knocked her for a loop on a purely feminine level. Luc had really gotten under her skin. To her mind that indicated Sandra had already been ripe for a fall, whether she realized it or not. All it had taken was that little extra push—mind blowing sex—and she’d fallen into his hands like a ripe plum. A shiver skated along her spine. She was susceptible to him herself, she acknowledged. Unfortunately, she couldn’t use that as an excuse to bow out of the program. The only thing admitting it would do would be to have the unpleasant result of making them distrust her every move. The project was top, top secret. They weren’t going to like being forced to try to replace her. The project was falling apart, she realized in dismay, any way she cut it. She was compromised because of her own feelings toward Luc. Sandra had allowed herself to be compromised. Murray, Clements, and Mark had allowed themselves to be distracted by the offer Luc had waved under their noses and were far more focused on their pursuit of knowledge for the sake of science than on answering the questions uppermost in the government’s mind. They hadn’t discovered anything of any real value to the people paying them. Granted, they knew a hell of a lot more about the Saitren than they had when they started, but nothing they’d come up with was of any interest to Uncle Sam. The government wanted to

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know why Luc was here and how to stop his people if they were considering an invasion. All they’d come up with was that the Saitren were similar enough to them that the environment wouldn’t be a problem for them—which was self evident since he was alive—and that he spoke a dialect that was a mixture of old English/old German and ancient Latin—which the military had already discovered. If he’d come in peace, he would leave as an enemy if he could get loose from them. It was another nail in his coffin, not that she believed for one minute they would ever have let him go, but they didn’t dare do so now. She might’ve managed to overcome her personal fears and sense of self-preservation to help him except that now her conscience was in conflict. To do the ‘right’ thing, she finally realized, meant putting more than herself in danger. It was no longer a case of her career and possibly her life and/or her own freedom at stake versus a conscience hammering at her that what she was doing was just plain wrong. If he hadn’t been an enemy before, he was now, and if she helped him in any way, he would no doubt do his utmost to return the favor by bringing his own people to wipe out hers. They had no idea how he’d gotten to Earth. The military hadn’t found a vehicle or they would’ve brought that in for studies, as well—not their field since they were biologists, not engineers, and wouldn’t have the first clue of how to go about studying alien technology, but she was pretty sure they would’ve been informed. They had no idea why he’d come. He might be, as the government suspected, a scout, but he could also be a scientist who’d only come to study. It was a circus, and Luc had drawn them all in with that little ‘performance’ of his. They’d be lucky if they just got canned for this mess, she realized in dismay. **** “This is a fiasco!” Colonel Brant ground out. Nicole winced inwardly. Outwardly, she did her best to maintain calm. She’d expected she was in for an ass chewing when the colonel had sent for her. She’d done her best to brace herself. She could handle this. “We were told to research the alien thoroughly,” she reminded him as calmly as she could. “Research, damn it! What the hell was that—that peep show about?” Nicole reddened in spite of all she could do. She cleared her throat. “I objected, but Dr. Murray felt like we shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to study the … uh … Saitren mating practices since he’d offered.” Colonel Brant looked disgusted. “The prime directive,” he growled, “was to obtain information from the subject.” “We were told to collect all of the information we could about the subject,” Nicole said pointedly. “Obtaining information from him is your field of expertise, not ours. We’re scientists, not … tort … interrogators!” The colonel narrowed his eyes at her. After a few moments, however, he pushed himself from his seat behind his desk. After pacing the room several times, he halted before the single window his office boasted, staring musingly at the view beyond. “I’m going to give you the chance to redeem yourself.” Nicole gaped at his back in outrage. He turned to fix her with a hard stare. “He expressed an interest in you. I want you to use that to get what we need from him.” Nicole blinked at him as if the words were pellets he’d flung at her. Incomprehension

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settled inside her. Apparently, he had no trouble reading it. “You’re a woman. Obviously, he’s interested. Flirt with him. See if you can get him to talk.” Nicole uttered a laugh of disbelief. “You want me to … seduce him?” “If that’s what it takes.” She felt her face heat with both embarrassment and anger. “I wouldn’t know how to go about it,” she finally responded coldly. He looked her over assessingly. “You’re a woman even if you are a scientist. It comes naturally, doesn’t it?” She glared at him at the insult. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be a single scientist,” she said tightly. His lips flattened into a thin line of anger. “You’re not trying to tell me, in a delicate way, that you’re a virgin, I hope.” Nicole felt her jaw drop. “I most certainly am not ….” “Good, because you’re a good looking woman, you’re damned near thirty, and I don’t believe it.” Nicole couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or more outraged. “ … going to tell you anything about my personal life,” she finished the sentence he’d interrupted. He held up a hand. “I know everything about you I need to know. It’s in your files. So—you’ll do it?” Nicole stared at him in total disbelief. “Assuming I was willing to set aside my principles,” she finally ground out, “and my conscience, it seems to have escaped everyone’s attention that we are dealing with a highly intelligent species. If he was a complete moron, he might fall for me ‘flirting’ with him to obtain information. As it stands, don’t you think he’d be just a little bit suspicious if I suddenly became friendly when I’ve been at pains to behave completely professionally?” “Pains, huh?” He raked her with a speculative gaze that made her long for the nerve to slap him. “Maybe you aren’t the right woman for the job, after all. If you were—pardon my French—you’d know a man with fucking on his mind isn’t thinking with this head,” he said, tapping a finger to his temple. Nicole narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m fairly certain that isn’t French, Colonel,” she said tightly. He shrugged indifferently. “That’ll be all.” Dismissed, Nicole got up from her seat, feeling deflated somehow. “Send Dr. Waters in,” the colonel said, flipping his com unit off again once his secretary had responded. Sandra met her at the door coming in as Nicole was leaving. She sent Nicole a questioning look. Nicole simply shook her head since there wasn’t anything she could say that the colonel wouldn’t overhear. It occurred to her as she strode quickly back to her quarters that Sandra would no doubt jump at the opportunity, and there was no getting around the fact that she was in a far better position to try it. Not only was she prettier and sexier, but she was more confident around men. And she had at least been intimate with Luc. If she wasn’t a complete idiot, she would’ve at least considered it. She should’ve held her temper and tried to reason with him instead of allowing her outrage to show … and get the better of her, she realized in dismay.

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There was no recovering now. She’d been far too outspoken on her feelings. Not that she would actually consider doing it, or that she thought she had a chance in hell of succeeding if she had agreed to it, but she would’ve been much better off to humble herself and shred her ego and tell him she didn’t think she could do it instead of informing him she wouldn’t consider trying. Pride goeth before a fall! She was hopeless at politics, she thought, mentally kicking herself. She was going to lose her government grant and probably her credibility, too, once they were through with her.

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Chapter Three “Do not forget the gloves. You would not want to actually make contact,” Luc murmured in a low, threatening growl. Nicole sent him a startled glance, feeling dull color creep into her cheeks at the look in his eyes. She cleared her throat but then decided to ignore the remark, focusing instead on twisting the tourniquet just above the crook of his arm and thumping his forearm to try to get a vein to rise. He had powerful arms, ropy with hard muscle, but the amazing thing was that they didn’t appear nearly massive enough for the power she’d seen him display. He was muscular all over for that matter, but still more lean than bulky. It would’ve been more understandable that he could lift twice or three times the weight of a normal man if he’d been twice or three times as big, but he wasn’t. He stood well over six feet, nearly six and a half—which made him a good deal taller than average—human average—anyway. His shoulders were broad, his chest deep, but his stats put him in the range of a large human male, not excessively large, certainly not a giant. “Did it make you feel … safer just to watch?” She had the feeling he’d meant to say something else, probably something more insulting. “I was required to observe,” she said, completely unable to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. His dark brows arched. “Otherwise you would not have?” She decided to leave that question dangling, focusing on carefully inserting the needle to draw blood. He flinched slightly when the needle went in. Otherwise he didn’t give any indication that it bothered him to have yet another needle shoved into him. He was beginning to look like a pincushion, she reflected unhappily. It was one thing to do such things in search of a treatment for illness and something else entirely when it was purely for research. “You had no interest?” he asked, his voice silky now. She swallowed with an effort, refusing to look at him even though she felt his gaze on her face. “No.” “Liar,” he said, barely above a whisper. She frowned, resisting the urge to give in to her temper and twist the needle as she snatched it out to cause him more pain. He caught her hand before she could move away, startling her. Her gaze flew to his face. His eyes were tumultuous, mesmerizing. “I would have given you more pleasure than I gave her. I would have caressed you until you were burning with need. I would have taken you to the heights of pleasure over and over until you begged me to give you surcease,” he said in a low, husky voice that seemed to move over her like the light caress of fingers. Nicole felt her throat close as if someone had wrapped a hand tightly around it. She swallowed convulsively several times, trying to ignore the heat surging inside of her. Dragging her gaze from his after a long moment, she looked down to see that he was stroking her hand.

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“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said in a choked voice as she disentangled her hand from his, struggling to close her mind to the heat he’d summoned in her so easily with his words and his touch. She shook her head, more to try to shake his effect on her than as a chastisement of him, scanning his face. “You’re very good at this, aren’t you? Seducing women?” she added at the questioning look in his eyes. “Does it always work for you?” Something flickered in his eyes. His lips twisted in wry humor. “But you are not susceptible?” She was tempted to agree, but she knew it was a lie and worse, he did. She could see he did. “Why, I wonder? Because I am different? Because my skin is not as cool and pale as yours? Or is it because you know I am a dead man?” She felt the color drain from her face at the last question. “Don’t …!” she whispered in a hoarse voice. His face hardened. “Because you are trying hard not to acknowledge it?” She had acknowledged it, but it wasn’t something she wanted to think about, and she certainly didn’t want to talk about it with him. “Such a tender heart,” he said tartly. “And yet you would deny a dying a man a taste of you when it would cost you so little and give me so much?” A mixture of emotions flickered through her at that. “That’s low, really low!” she snapped angrily, suddenly struggling with tears as his words cut through her—because he was right. She knew he was. He’d asked for comfort—from her, and she’d refused—not because she didn’t find him desirable, because she did. Not because she thought it was morally or ethically wrong, because she had no reason to feel either and a good deal of reason to feel an obligation to honor most any last request he might make when she was at least partially responsible for the fact that he would lose his life. She hadn’t even refused because she was worried about what her peers would think. She’d refused because she was afraid. She already cared far more about his suffering than she wanted to, cared too much about him as an individual. She didn’t want to give him the chance to get any closer to her heart. She didn’t want to take a chance that intimacy with him would break down the last of her barriers and leave her wide open to far more pain than just the guilt that was eating at her. He chuckled, but there was far more anger glittering in his eyes than amusement. “There was no harm in trying,” he said with an offhanded shrug. She scanned his face. “Except you weren’t. You got what you wanted. It didn’t matter to you what woman you got to fill your needs.” “Keep telling yourself that,” he murmured. “It is bound to come as shock to you, either way, when you discover you are wrong. And you will discover it, Nicky. I always get what I want—by whatever means necessary.” He was trying to seduce her. The part of her mind that could still function logically told her that. It also told her that she was a fool to believe, even for a moment, that it had anything to do with a sexual interest in her. He had no interest in her personally, and certainly not sexually. He thought he could seduce her into letting him go. She was very much afraid he might. **** “You are very cool. Did I fail to give you pleasure?”

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Sandra felt heat flow into her cheeks. As if he could be in any doubt! She wasn’t particularly modest. In fact her tastes in sex ran a little more toward the kinky than the straight and narrow, and she was a bit of an exhibitionist at heart—and she’d still found the video more than a little uncomfortable to watch. Mostly because he hadn’t seemed even nearly as involved as she was. “It was an … interesting experience, purely from a scientific standpoint.” He chuckled, which didn’t surprise her, but did irritate her. “I should try harder to please next time,” he murmured. She glanced at him sharply. “I didn’t get the impression that you much cared if there was a next time,” she said, unable to keep the pout out of her voice. He shrugged. “I was distracted by the audience.” “Nicole you mean.” He studied her assessingly and finally shrugged again. “I was … annoyed that she had no interest.” “So you did it to tease her?” Sandra guessed. “A waste of time, honey. She’s frigid from everything I’ve heard—no interest.” “So she said.” “Ahh—that was what piqued your interest.” She shook her head. “It must be universal—that male ego thing. A woman who has no interest is a challenge and one who’s interested isn’t?” He cocked a brow at her. “Are you?” “Am I what?” “Interested?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a player where you’re from, aren’t you?” He frowned. “I am not certain what that means.” “Flirt, seducer. I’m guessing you’re good at it.” He looked annoyed. “Apparently not,” he retorted dryly. “Am I wearing a sign?” She chuckled. “Might as well. You’re too good at it to be a novice.” A slow, wicked smile curled his lips. “You could not have been too disappointed or you would not say that. Shall we try again—without the audience?” “Nice try,” she retorted irritably. “I was born, but it wasn’t yesterday. No way in hell am I going to take those restraints off of you.” “Did I suggest that?” She studied him speculatively. “Exactly how do you propose doing it without taking the restraints off?” He shifted closer. “Come to me when there is no one around to observe,” he whispered near her ear, “and I will show you.” She backed away from him, unnerved, but at the same time intrigued. “We’ll see,” she said finally. **** A mixture of excitement and fear pounded through Sandra’s veins as she headed toward the room where Luc was kept. Desire was undeniably a good part of it. As badly as she hated to admit it, even to herself, Luc had rocked her world, and she’d been craving him ever since. No one had ever had that kind of effect on her, had given her so much pleasure she’d thought she’d die from it, and she had a bad feeling no one ever would again. She didn’t like to dwell on that, though.

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There wasn’t anything she could do to change it and therefore no point in thinking about what the military would do with Luc once they had what they wanted from him. In the meanwhile, though, he was all hers. Colonel Brant had given her the go ahead when she’d told him she had to gain his trust if she was to have any chance of finding out what the colonel wanted to know and that meant unlimited access and the appearance, at least, of some privacy. She was doing a service for her country. There was no reason why she shouldn’t benefit from it. It wasn’t wrong if what she was doing would help protect national security—the world’s security. That didn’t mean that she didn’t feel any guilt. She did. She also felt horrible thinking he would be killed, but that wasn’t up to her. It wasn’t her decision one way or the other, and nothing she was about to do would hurt him. In point of fact, the colonel had told her plainly that the order had already come down to terminate him. She was actually giving him more time than he would’ve had if she hadn’t been willing to attempt to seduce the information out of him. She wondered if Nicole had known that, if she’d refused knowing it meant that they would instantly terminate him. Somehow, she doubted it. Nicole might be sexually repressed in her book, but she wasn’t cold. If anything she was way too softhearted to deal with this sort of situation. As good as she undoubtedly was at her work, they should have known Nicole was too emotionally fragile to deal with an actual living being. Trust the government to ignore that sort of thing! They were such cold blooded, calculating bastards, it never occurred to them that everyone else wasn’t. Guilt teased at her at that thought, but she dismissed it. She wasn’t cold blooded and calculating either, but she considered herself a realist. What would be the point in no one benefiting from the situation? And Luc was clearly an enemy of her people. She’d deal with her guilt over it—later. She was nervous. She’d never attempted anything of the sort before, but Colonel Brant had ‘briefed’ her. He’d brought in people and worked out a step by step plan for her to slowly gain Luc’s trust. She was to allow him to think she was falling for him and allow him a little more freedom each time to string him along until he would answer her questions without considering what he might be revealing. They’d told her how to word the questions carefully—never to ask him point blank about anything—but to lead him into telling her what she wanted to know. She was confident she could do it, and when she’d pulled it off, the government, Colonel Brant assured her, would be very grateful. **** Lucifer curled his lips into a half smile and closed his eyes, trying to hide the fact that Sandra’s butchery of his native tongue grated on his nerves. There was not much about her, in point of fact, that did not. He rather thought, though, that it was her propensity for chattering after sex that annoyed him the most. He had been sated and pleasantly relaxed—a pleasure rare for him since he had been captured—right up until she had started trying to ‘artlessly’ pry information out of him by suggesting he tell her about himself and his world. He not only was not currently in the mood to talk, at all, he was not capable of the clear

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headed caution he needed to cross swords with her. He merely grunted, therefore, when she asked him what he did for a living. Lethargic and sexually sated, he might be, but he was not so far gone that it did not occur to him instantly that the last thing he could tell her was ‘what he did for a living’. Considering what they had done thinking he was no more than a scout, the discovery that he was the highest ranking military officer in Heillius would only guarantee worse than what he had endured already. “I don’t know anything about you,” she said with a pout. He pried an eyelid high enough to peer at her speculatively. “Not true. You know that I am not native to this world, that my race is called the Saitren, and my name is Lucifer. That is as much as I know about you.” And more than he really wanted to know. “Do you have a wife?” she persisted. He looked at her quizzically. “A woman? A mate?” “If I did, I would not be fucking you,” he said tartly. He heard her grinding her teeth. “Ever?” His lips tightened. “Not while I had a mate,” he responded, deliberately misinterpreting her question. “I meant were you married? Or did you have a mate? Or whatever you call it on Nadryl?” He clenched his teeth, but aside from a personal reluctance to talk about it there was no real reason not to tell her. “She died.” “Oh! I’m so sorry!” She sounded sincere enough, but he doubted she cared. “Children?” “A son—Lucien,” he added, hoping to forestall another question. “Is he … you left him with someone?” The question, actually more sincere than anything she’d asked previously, still aroused amusement in him, albeit bitter. The death of his woman had not left a hole in only his life. Lucien had not forgiven him for not being there, and it had severed the tie that bound his son to him, as well. “I suspect my son is older than you—certainly as old. I did not need to leave him in anyone’s care.” She sat up abruptly on the edge of the narrow cot where he slept, staring down at his face. “Exactly how old are you?” He lifted both eyelids to study her that time, surprised and not terribly pleased that she would make an issue of his age. She was an adult, as he was. What difference did his age make? “If you can not tell, what difference does it make?” She frowned. “None … I guess,” she said doubtfully. “It’s just … well, I figured you for around thirty, but if you have a grown son …?” Her guess stunned him. He thought it over, trying to recall what he had read in the texts about Earth’s rotation. He certainly had not had any opportunity to observe first hand. He had barely arrived when he was captured, and he had not seen the sun since. Amusement flicked through him when he finally recalled that Earth years were virtually the same as the years on his home world. The realization that there must be a vast difference in the life spans of humans to that of the Saitren doused the amusement almost as quickly as it arose. He examined the thought and realized that her questions certainly seemed to bear up his conclusion. He was just not, currently, lucid enough to feel like exploring the reason the discovery had given rise to an odd

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uneasiness or figure out why it had made his mind leap instantly to Nicole. The same could be said of her as Sandra. She was a fully matured adult. He was a virile Saitren male, still in his prime. There was no reason to feel … threatened, or dismayed, in any way by the discovery. Still, he could not see any reason not to tell her. “Add a hundred and you will be closer,” he murmured. She made a sound of disgust. “I was serious!” The comment was confirmation that he had guessed right. Age would only be an issue to those concerned about their mortality, which Saitren rarely worried about—certainly not in the context of any sort of relationship. It wasn’t a subject he particularly wanted to pursue, however. He dragged her down and tried to use the ‘persuasion’ on her just to shut her up for a few minutes. A short nap, he thought, and he would have his wits about him. She evaded his attempt to kiss her, however, and he released an irritable sigh. Lifting his hand, he scrubbed it over his face, trying to prod his mind to more alertness. It was amazing how much pleasure the simple gesture gave him, he thought wryly. She had removed the restraints on his wrists. It was the first time he had been free of the damned things since they had captured him. The temptation to rip the restraints from his ankles had been nearly overpowering. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to pretend to be more interested in fucking her than leaping off the cot and charging out the door. Not that he did not enjoy it, despite the fact that he knew exactly what she was up to, but she was an insatiable bitch. He had never thought to see the day when a woman could fuck him into unconsciousness—and bore him to death while she was at it. In spite of the persuasion, she talked while they were fucking! He was almost certain that he had never heard of a woman capable of rambling while under the influence—a word or two, mayhap—but not a monologue. He was not especially thrilled that she felt duty bound to instruct him on how to please her, for that matter. He preferred to get his directions from the frequency and pitch of a woman’s moans. “What’s it like on your world?” He closed his eyes, struggling against the sickness that welled in his throat. Dead by now, he thought with a mixture of rage and regret. He thrust the thought aside, struggling to think. He walked a tight rope with her, knowing he had to choose his words carefully, to feed her little bits of information along and along to appease the people she was working for. If he gave her too much, he was dead. If he did not give her enough, they were liable to decide it was not working, and he was dead. “Much like this one—I think,” he lied. “I did not see much before they brought me here.” “Does everyone have wings?” He gave her a look. “No. I am a freak there, too,” he retorted dryly. She glared at him. “You aren’t the only race? Is it just the Saitren who have wings?” He shrugged. “We are all winged beings. You would be considered strange there.” “Because I’m black?” Surprised, he studied the militant look in her eyes curiously. “You are not black. You are brown—a beautiful golden brown—I was referring to the fact that you have no wings.” “Oh.” He frowned thoughtfully, mentally reviewing the people he had seen and realizing for the

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first time that there was a vast range of skin tones. “Here everyone hates and distrusts because the color of the skin differs?” Sandra considered it, trying to be objective instead of merely stating her personal opinion. “I guess, really, it’s about being different—different cultures and customs and beliefs. The color of the skin just makes it easier to tell who is from what culture—and it isn’t always an accurate way to tell, but people still go by the colors.” And weight, and age, and sexual orientation, and gender …. Smoker and non-smoker—religion, country of origin, the length of their hair, or lack of it, the clothes they wore, the car they drove--there really didn’t seem to be an end of reasons people could think up to dislike one another, she realized with a touch of surprise. He nodded. “And no one here has skin the color of mine?” Sandra bit her lip. “Or wings or horns.” “Is it the wings and horns? Or the skin color?” “None of it bothers me, but it does make you look different, and people just don’t trust different.” If it had not ‘bothered’ her she would not have brought it up, he thought derisively, wondering how much it bothered Nicole. Undoubtedly far more than it disturbed Sandra, or it was simply easier for Sandra to ignore it in pursuit of her goals. It angered him. A good part of what drew him to Nicole was her exotic appearance. It was certainly what had caught his interest to begin with. He had not considered that it might not be mutual. He was not unappealing to Saitren women. In point of fact, he was fairly certain, if his success rate was anything to go by, that the opposite was true. There was always the token protest, of course. That was part of the game—there was no thrill of seduction, on either side, if it was not a conquest on the part of the male and surrender on the part of the female. But they did not try to escape him. They tried to catch his interest. He would have thought, if he had considered it before, that his exotic appearance must make him more interesting and appealing, not less. Unfortunately, it had not occurred to him to consider it, and he did not particularly like that Sandra had pointed it out to him. Either Sandra felt defensive about what she’d said or she correctly interpreted his expression. “Don’t tell me there’s no prejudice on your world. I’ll never believe it.” He shrugged. He did not think it was wise to tell her, however, that they had warred over their differences until they had reduced the number of races to two—and they still hated each other. He supposed, though, that the swarm had neatly ended the battle for racial supremacy. “With us, it is the wings.” Sandra stared at him blankly. “You said everyone had wings.” “Yes, but not the same wings,” he said pensively. “So—they would really hate people who had no wings at all?” He had fallen into that one, he thought irritably. Grasping her, he rolled on top of her. “Do I appear to hate you my beautiful little brown skinned princess?” he murmured, subduing her finally with a kiss. **** Tell him? Or not tell him? The two questions had been looping round and round in Nicole’s mind since Murray had told the team he’d been given word that they were being shut down. They had one week to complete their investigation into the Saitren species, and then they

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were to hand over their reports and go about their business. They would be monitored hereafter. They were never to speak of the project to anyone. No one had said it. They didn’t have to. Luc was to be terminated when the project ended. She was certain of it. She felt sick to her stomach. She wished they hadn’t told her. It had been hard enough to deal with her job when it was a matter of removing bone and tissue and blood samples over and over until she’d begun to feel like they were taking him apart by excruciating fractions. It had been hard enough trying to pretend she didn’t notice the signs of the ‘interrogation’ sessions when he was periodically removed for questioning. She’d known, deep down, that they would terminate him when they decided they’d gotten everything out of him that they could. She still didn’t have any more than a suspicion since they hadn’t come right out and said that was what they intended, but she knew it. And it was still harder believing that, now, she knew the number of days he had left. Tell him? Or not tell him? Would it be better for him not to know? Better to know so he could try to come to terms with it? She tried to think how she would feel about it. The only result of that was to turn her bowels to water and make her stomach churn. Without much difficulty she decided, if it was her, she wouldn’t be able to bear facing it. She’d rather not know until the last moment because if she did, she’d be terrified every minute of every hour of the days that preceded it. But that didn’t tell her how he would feel about it. Maybe he’d rather know? He suspected just as she always had or he wouldn’t have made that comment to her suggesting she consider giving a dying man his last wish. The knowledge made it harder than ever to perform her duties and maintain a façade of cool professionalism. He watched her. She didn’t know if it was because he suspected something or not. Casting her mind back, she realized he’d always watched her keenly. She’d supposed he watched everyone that came in to his cell the same way, waiting to see what new torment they had in mind. For all she knew she was right and it was only paranoia that made it seem to her that there was anything at all pointed about his interest in her. He hadn’t tried to seduce her again—not blatantly anyway. She suspected the ‘accidental’ brushes he managed so often were his way of demanding an awareness of him she would’ve preferred not to have, but she was obliged also to admit that it might have been just an accident. It might only be her heightened awareness of him that made her notice. It might only be a need he felt for contact of any kind that wasn’t painful or threatening. She didn’t know if it was her distraction that allowed him to catch her or if she’d subconsciously wanted it to happen. Generally, she was very careful to stay out of his reach and just as careful never to enter his cell except when she was certain someone was manning the observation window. She supposed the fact that she’d gone in knowing no one was and moved within reach of him was answer enough. Subconsciously, she realized, it had been eating at her ever since he’d commented on her lack of empathy for his plight, her refusal to offer any sort of comfort to a being—a man—slated for death when she wouldn’t have been able to refrain from trying to ease the suffering of even a lower animal. She would’ve gone out of her way to think of something, anything, she could do

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to make its last hours less frightening, more pleasant. He didn’t allow the opportunity to slip through his fingers. The instant she moved within range, he grabbed her and snatched her up against his form. She dropped her clipboard from suddenly nerveless fingers but scarcely registered the clatter as it hit the floor. Her gaze had flown to his the instant he grabbed her, and the look in his eyes turned her to stone. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Her heart skipped a handful of beats and then began to surge almost painfully against her chest wall, making it hard to breathe. His gaze flickered over her face after a moment. He shifted his hold to spear the fingers of one hand through her hair, curling his long fingers against her scalp, and drew her upwards to meet the descent of his head. There was no hesitation. He angled his head to one side and moved in to fit his mouth firmly over hers. Briefly, it flickered through her mind that she hadn’t fully appreciated the size of the man. For all the careful measurements taken and catalogued she hadn’t considered how dwarfed she would feel pressed against him. She hadn’t realized his hands were so big he could cup and hold her head so effortlessly with one. She hadn’t considered the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his hard chest, the length of his arms that allowed him to enfold her, to engulf her with the heat of his body. She hadn’t considered struggling or even passive resistance. The moment he settled his mouth firmly over hers and thrust his tongue inside to explore the moist cavity, she sucked in a tremulous breath and opened her mouth to him. His hold tightened on her almost crushingly before easing slightly as she uttered a faint sound of distress. Dizziness swept through her as her senses opened to receive and instantly hit overload, unable to process the barrage of sensations pelting her quickly enough. Heat—his mouth was hot, almost scorching. It sent a wave of warmth through her center that pooled briefly in her loins and then spread outward in a warming wave throughout her body, growing hotter with each fresh wave that followed the first, building in intensity until even her skin warmed, then became feverishly hot. Her taste buds exploded with the rake of his tongue across hers, filling her with his exotic, completely unique flavor. There was no deciding if she liked the taste. Pleasure instantly followed the moment her mind registered it. His scent, more subtle, just as exotic and appealing, dragged into her lungs by her desperate need for air, twined around the taste, enhanced it until the headiness that engulfed her was almost as if she’d shot up with endorphins. The faintly rough texture of his tongue as he stroked it restlessly along hers, entwined it with hers, made the flesh all over her body tighten and pebble in response. The moment it did, more awareness poured into her to join the chaotic jumble in her mind. She became aware of the rapid rise and fall of his chest as it alternately compressed hers and eased, teasing her nipples to attention with each light brush. She became aware of the tension in his body that seemed to hold every muscle in his body so taut they trembled faintly with the strain. The hand along the back of her skull tightened. He moved the other down to grasp her buttocks and pull her closer to his body as he curled his hips into hers, pressing the hard length of his swollen cock rhythmically against her mound as he brought her into position. A tidal wave of fire rolled over her as she felt the rhythmic pressure against her mound. A deep yearning filled her to feel it lower. The faint tremors rippling through him became more pronounced as he increased the pressure of his mouth, the tempo and thrust of his tongue into her mouth, and the pace and force

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of his thrusts against her mound. She was drowning. She wanted to drown in him. She wanted to throw what little fragment of caution she still held onto to the wind and just feel. Temptation and wariness seesawed through her, one gaining the upper hand for a handful of moments and then the other. Images flickered through her mind, the same ones that had plagued her since she’d watched him with Sandra, wondered what it must feel like to have him inside her, only this time it was her she imagined. She wanted it with a desperation that scared her. He wrenched his mouth from hers with a suddenness that left her gasping, sent a shiver through her at the abrupt cessation of heat flowing into her. He dipped lower, opening his mouth over her throat, sucking the tender skin there, trying to drag her higher so he could reach more of her. She knew where this was heading—rapidly out of control. She wanted it, feared it. The voice of reason hammering in the back of her mind became louder, more demanding. She couldn’t do this no matter how badly she wanted to. A kiss, a touch to soothe—those she’d wanted to offer, thought she could offer and pull back to a safe distance. She’d moved too rapidly beyond that safe offering not to be unnerved, though. She couldn’t do what he wanted— what she wanted to do—give him what he was demanding. “Don’t!” she finally managed to gasp out in a hoarse whisper, even though she didn’t want to, deeply regretted it the moment the words left her mouth. “I can’t.” She was almost surprised when he stopped abruptly. He lifted his head to look at her, panting for breath as she was, struggling to control it. Fury descended over his face, twisting it into a frightening mask. He released her completely, suddenly, thrusting her roughly away from him. Her dizziness and the weakness that had invaded her made her stumble. She caught herself with an effort, wondering why she felt so strangely weak and heavy and disoriented, as frightened by that as she was by the look on his face. At the same time, she felt infinite regret fill her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, remembering the appeal he’d made to her for an offer of comfort, wanting to give and at the same time knowing it would torment her forever more if she did, not assuage her guilt in having a hand in his torment and death. “I can’t give you what you want.” He snarled at her, surging against the chains that held him as she moved beyond his reach. “You do not know I want, woman! I would as soon snap your neck and fuck your lifeless body,” he growled. “It would be no colder, no less responsive.” The insult went through her like a knife. She swallowed with an effort against the pain that knotted in her throat. The strange drug that had invaded her still disoriented her too much to bring any order to her thoughts, making it impossible to guess whether it was only rage at being denied that fuelled the cutting words, his own pain at being rejected, or if he really thought she was so cold she’d been unmoved by his touch. “Get out!” he snarled, his eyes glowing with fury.

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Chapter Four Luc regarded Sandra with brooding violence when she entered his cell, wondering if she had any idea how much the idea appealed to him at the moment to expend the fury churning in his belly on her. He narrowed his eyes at her meditatively as the images of doing so flickered through his mind. He’d held her enthralled, he thought in baffled fury. He’d conquered any ability she might have had to resist—physically. She’d been his for the taking. She’d still resisted, denied him. He didn’t know why he had not ignored her weak attempts to push him away. He didn’t know why it had enraged him so much he’d thrust her away instead of taking what he’d set out to take. It would have been laughably easy to overcome her objections. He didn’t feel like laughing, though. He felt like pounding something, anything, until his fists were bloody and bellowing his rage until he was hoarse. His fury, he realized, was aimed more at himself than Nicole, but that didn’t make it easier to swallow—in fact it made it less palatable. He had not seen her since—not in two full days. It made him sick to his stomach to realize he’d lost all self-control, that he’d scared her so badly she wouldn’t even enter the same room with him now. Shoving the enraging thoughts of Nicole from the forefront of his mind after a moment, he focused on Sandra once more, reluctantly shelving the temptation to expend his frustrations on her, more because it dawned on him that Sandra would probably enjoy it far more than he wanted her to than because reason had subjugated his anger. She placed a finger to her lips, signaling for silence, even though he hadn’t uttered a word, wouldn’t have because he knew if he opened his mouth he would completely destroy the tenuous trust he’d been working so hard to instill in her. She motioned with her hand for him to turn over on his cot. He stared at her uncomprehendingly. Finally, it filtered through his seething fury that she was up to something. She hadn’t approached him. She was standing just inside the door, clutching something bulky. More curious than anything else, he finally complied, rolling onto his side and dragging the thin cover up over his shoulder until it covered the lower half of his face. Nodding approval, she settled the bag she’d brought in on the floor and lifted one arm to study her watch. He’d just begun to wonder why when she abruptly surged into motion. Grabbing the bag she’d dropped, she rushed to the side of his cot. “Give me your word you’ll take me with you!” she hissed urgently. He stilled. “Swear it, damn it! I can’t stay if I let you go!” “I swear it,” he said, his mind still whirling at the possibility she’d presented him with, hope warring with doubt and disbelief. She grabbed his restraints almost before he’d uttered the promise, jerking at his wrists and ankles in her rush to remove them. Shoving at him to make him move more quickly as he sat up and stared at her dumbfounded, she grabbed the bag. “Go stand where I was standing and

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wait.” He moved, watching as she dragged something from the bag and then pitched the bag at him. He caught it, glanced down at it, and then returned his attention to what she was doing. “The guy promised me the camera would be down three minutes. Get into the clothes I brought you,” she said without looking at him. He saw the odd object she’d brought was a limp form roughly in the shape of his body. She shoved it into the bed, arranged it, and pulled the covers up as he had before. Stepping back, she studied it and then tucked the covers higher around the plaster representation of his face and head. The bag she’d tossed to him contained clothing he saw when he finally turned his attention to it. Noting that the clothing was of the same style and color as that worn by the soldiers, he’d stepped into the pants and fastened them when she joined him against the wall. Most of the back had been torn away from the shirt, and he still had trouble shrugging his wings through the hole and then his arms. She grabbed a jar of something while he was trying to shove the buttons through the holes, smearing it on his face. It was cold. He flinched, repelled by the smell and feel of it. “If they catch even a glimpse of your skin tones, it’s over,” she said by way of explanation. Nodding, he left off trying to finish the buttons, took the jar from her hand, and smeared the mess all over his face and throat and then his hands. It was the color of Nicole, pale pink, nearly white. Thrusting the thought from his mind, he pushed his feet into the boots she’d brought when she knelt down and held them for him. Her hands were shaking so badly, she made a tangled mess of the strings she was trying to crisscross across the opening, but it wasn’t as obvious once she’d settled the trouser legs over the tops. He was surprised to discover the fit of the clothing was nearly perfect. He supposed he shouldn’t have been, he thought wryly. There was no part of his anatomy that hadn’t been measured. Moving behind him, she came up on her tiptoes, grabbed his hair, and tied it with something at the nape of his neck. The helmet she dragged from the bag wouldn’t sit right on his head. “Damn the horns,” she muttered angrily. “I should’ve brought something to saw them off.” He glared at her narrow eyed, pushed her hands away, and tilted the helmet over his horns. It still didn’t sit right on his head, but the horns were covered and the tips of his ears. Dragging a rustling bundle from the bag, she tossed it to him. He held it up, trying to figure out how he was supposed to put it on. “Rain parka,” she answered his unspoken question. “Thank god it’s raining. I’d begun to think it wasn’t going to and I’d have to figure out some other way to hide the wings. Pull it over your head and pull the hood over the helmet.” When he’d done so, she moved around him, twitching the garment into place. Bundling the now empty bag, she glanced around, scanning the room thoroughly and then studying the form on the cot. Apparently satisfied, she looked at her watch again. Some of the tension seemed to leave her. “Five seconds. When I buzz the door to go out, that’ll be the signal to cut the camera just outside. You turn to the left as you exit, walk briskly down the corridor to the fourth door, enter the room on the right—it’s the ladies lounge and should be empty at this time of the night—and wait for me. I want them to see me leaving alone.” He nodded grimly, taking the bag when she thrust it at him and tucking it under his arm

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beneath the parka. His heart was in his throat as he stepped into the corridor and followed her instructions, but it was more from exhilaration than fear. It flickered through his mind that he was placing a lot trust in her motives, that she might just as well be leading him to his death as freedom, but he realized he was ready. If it was a trap, he’d do his best to elude it. If he didn’t succeed, at least he wouldn’t be caged like an animal anymore. “Why are you doing this?” he asked when she joined him. She stared at him blankly for a moment and finally shook her head. “Damned if I know. If we make it and I figure it out, I’ll let you know.” She gave him careful directions to get out of the building and then made him repeat them. “God must be on your side,” she muttered. “We’ve got a hell of a thunderstorm, and it’s playing havoc with all the equipment already. The guy I paid is playing on it, making the security monitors blink off and on and the cameras. They’re going to be too focused on trying to fix the system to pay you much attention—I hope. Just walk like a man with a purpose and a place to go, head down. Don’t look right or left. Don’t talk to anybody if you can help it—just nod or grunt or something. This card will get you through the secured doors. Just run it through the lock for a scan. I’m going out first. I’ll be waiting for you in my car vehicle just around the corner of the building—to the right. Give me ten minutes head start and then follow. We’ll never make it through the gate. We’re heading for the back. I hope to hell those wings work, because we’re going to have to fly over or chew our way through the fence. I couldn’t get a damned skimmer on the base.” All the while she chattered instructions, she’d been quickly smoothing the thick salve over his face and throat. Stepping away, she examined him critically, then moved to a lavatory and washed her hands. “It’ll work,” she muttered, more to herself than him, he thought. “Jesus, I have to pee! I’m scared spitless, though, so I don’t know if I really have to or everything’s just tied in knots.” She talked more when she was nervous, he noted. Deciding she wasn’t actually talking to him, he moved to the large mirror above the row of lavatories and studied his reflection. A jolt went through him when he saw his face. He barely even recognized his own features beneath the strangely pale coloring. “You look like a white man,” Sandra commented. “Believe me, there’s no better color for our purposes.” He glanced toward her, but she’d turned away and hurried to the door. She stood holding the knob, studying her watch. Removing it, she tossed it to him. “Ten minutes. I hope to hell you can tell time because I sure don’t have time to teach you now.” He stared at the door as it closed behind her, then looked down at the watch, studying it. One thin piece moved in a rapid sweep that almost mirrored the pounding pulse in his veins. One inched along behind it, moving forward by one mark each time the faster line circled. He moved to the door, listened while he waited ten marks on the time piece, and then stepped out of the room and walked briskly along the corridor, turning each time he reached an intersection she’d noted, using the card each time he reached a door that required it. He passed people in the corridors. None of them glanced at him. All of them seemed to be scurrying somewhere in a hurry. Rain slashed at him as he at last stepped outside. He paused, dragging in a deep breath untainted by the smell of his prison. Turning after that brief hesitation, he strode briskly around the building.

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Sandra stared at him wide eyed with apprehension when he opened the door and slid into the seat beside her. The space was cramped. His knees slammed painfully into the console in front of him. Sandra made a sound threaded with hysteria, jerked the lever near the steering wheel, and the vehicle shot into motion, jouncing through pot holes filled with water as they rounded the building and turned on a paved lane. “No problems?” Sandra asked, her voice quavering with nerves. “The man at the door studied me longer than I liked. I felt his gaze upon me even as I left the building.” The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a siren abruptly cut loose. Sandra jumped, jerking the wheel and nearly swerving into the ditch. “Shit! Fuck! Damn it! You should get that parka off and get ready to bail! Please tell me you can actually fly. I wasn’t kidding about the fence.” Instead of answering, he focused on wrestling the parka off, finally tearing it when he realized he was too cramped by the vehicle to get it off any other way. He pitched the pieces and the helmet in the direction of the back seat. A military vehicle flew by them, headed toward the front gate. Sandra stared at it in her rearview mirror until it braked about midway down the next block. “Shit! They’re on to us!” she muttered, shoving the gas pedal abruptly to the floor. The car skidded, fishtailed, and evened out briefly before she jerked the wheel to round a corner. It went completely out of control then, taking out a long row of metal trashcans before it halted. Luc threw open the door and leapt out almost before the car stopped moving. Stunned, it took Sandra several moments to assess her situation. She flung off her seat belt after wrestling with the catch briefly, clambered over the seat, and half fell half jumped out of the door Luc had left open. He was disappearing around the corner of a building when she spied him. Someone bellowed at her to halt as she launched into a run to catch him. Ignoring the command, expecting any moment to feel bullets ripping through her, she poured on more speed and finally managed to get the building between her and the MPs. Luc was tearing the military tunic off as she skidded around the end of the building. Struggling for breath, she raced toward him. “You promised to take me with you!” she screamed at him. “You gave me your word, damn you!” He sent her a glare filled with both fury and disgust—self-disgust she thought. She could see the debate going on inside of him. Abruptly, he grabbed her, cinched her tightly against him and launched the two of them upward. Her stomach took a moment to catch up, depriving her of the ability to scream or she would have. For several moments they seemed to barely move, almost to hover, the rush of air from his straining wings dulling the other sounds around them, even the crack of thunder. Sandra didn’t realize until something shot past them that it wasn’t the thunder she’d heard. The soldiers were firing on them. “Shiiiiit!” she screamed as Luc abruptly shot skyward as if he’d been launched by a catapult. The rain pelted them so hard with the speed he was climbing she felt like it would scour the flesh from her. He almost seemed to pause and then dropped so abruptly her heart lodged in her throat. Deciding it wasn’t enough to have her arms locked around him, she lifted her legs and coiled them around him as he continued to soar upwards, then drop, over and over, until she thought she might puke. “Sheathe your claws, woman!” he growled. “I won’t drop you.” He sure as hell wasn’t going to drop her unless he peeled her loose first, and she was going to take his hide with her if he tried it! She laced her fingers together, however, instead of

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digging her nails into his back. Terror drowned out any ability for thought, any sense of time. The instinct to hold on was the only thing her mind could grasp—not that it needed to. She thought she might be permanently frozen around him. He dropped from the sky and skimmed just above the ground for a while. When the sound of a helicopter reached their ears, he shot upward until thick clouds surrounded them. Every muscle in her body had gone from screaming to smoldering as if they would catch fire before she finally felt them begin to descend. He dropped from the clouds, soared in a lazy circle, as if he was scanning the Earth below them, though she found it hard to believe he could actually see anything. The darkness of the night aside, they had to be thousands of feet up. Apparently he didn’t see anything to disturb him, though. He began a slow descent, dropping lower and lower, although she’d more than half expected another rollercoaster ride. A jolt went through both of them as he settled to the ground. He loosened his grip on her and when that didn’t help to dislodge her, he peeled her off and set her away from him. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that had more consistency than pudding. The moment her feet touched the ground, she wilted until she was sitting on the dirt, staring up at him. He crouched down, grasping her shoulders. “Where is Nicky?” he growled. Sandra gaped at him in disbelief. He gave her a little shake. “Where is she?” Anger began to filter through Sandra’s shock. “You’re not seriously considering going back for her?” His face hardened. “I’m not leaving without her,” he ground out. “If I’d known you wanted to die I wouldn’t have risked my neck getting you out!” He released the grip on her shoulders and caught her chin. “Where … is … she?” he demanded through gritted teeth. “I’ve not seen her in two days. Where would they take her?” “They didn’t take her anywhere!” Sandra snapped. “They sent her packing—earlier today, her and Mark. The rest of us were due to leave tomorrow.” “Where?” “Home! Ow! That hurts, damn it!” He loosened his grip on her. His eyes narrowed. “I can give you just as much pain as pleasure,” he growled in silken threat. “Unless you want to experience that, as well, you’ll tell me what I want to know.” Sandra gulped, feeling fear of him for the first time since they’d become lovers. She’d been so certain she’d gained control of him it hadn’t occurred to her, before, that he might be using her just as she was using him. “You swore you’d take me with you to your world if I helped you to escape,” she said accusingly. “There is no world to return to!” he roared at her, pushing away and straightening so that he towered over her. “They are dead! The whole world by now! I came to warn you people! I came to ask for help!” Sandra gaped at him in horrified disbelief. “That can’t be true!” His face twisted. “Would that it were not!” he said raggedly. “Why didn’t you then?” she demanded. “I did!” he snarled. “That’s why they sent for you—to make certain I wasn’t carrying the disease I’d warned them of.” Except the bastards hadn’t warned them that they were walking into a possible biohazard!

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“Where are you going then?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Where is Nicky?” Sandra let out a huff of anger. “We don’t have time to look for her! We have to get the hell out of here before they catch up with us.” The intermittent flashes of lightning made his stony face look downright demonic. Clearly he wasn’t going another step until he’d convinced himself he wouldn’t find her. “Fine! She lives on the edge of Tucson—about a hundred miles south of here. That’s all I know! You’ll have to get the address out of the phone book.” “Wait here.” He didn’t give her time to respond. She’d barely gotten the direction out when he launched himself into the air again. By the time she’d managed to get the grit out of her eyes and mouth that he’d stirred up with his wings, he was a tiny speck in the sky lit by the occasional flash of lightning. The next time the lightning flashed, he’d disappeared completely. “Damn it!” Sandra snarled, pounding her fist against the ground furiously. **** A sudden chill as cool air wafted across her skin roused Nicole. Blindly, she searched for the cover she’d lost. Encountering a hand instead of the cover she’d expected to find, Nicole’s eyelids shot upwards and she stared blurrily at the shadowed figure above her. Even as she sucked in a sharp breath to scream, however, he dove at her, pinning her with his weight to the bed beneath her. She struggled frantically anyway, trying to throw him off. He caught a fistful of her hair, tethering her head just as a flash of light from the storm lit up the room. She stared in disbelief at the face hovering just above hers for a split second before he dropped his head forward and covered her mouth with his. The heat of his mouth drove the shock from her. She began struggling again, but the fight was brief. A lassitude swept over her even as he filled her senses with his taste and scent, demolishing any doubts whatsoever about who it was who held her prisoner. For a few moments more, she struggled against the heaviness creeping through her like a sedative and then she gave up the battle, sinking beneath it. He lifted his head, studied her a long moment, and then rolled off of her. Shoving an arm behind her shoulders and one beneath her knees he lifted her against his chest. Neither fully conscious nor fully asleep, Nicole felt her head loll against his hard shoulder. His scent, mixed with the smell of starch, rain, and something perfumy—like makeup—teased at her nostrils, but she couldn’t gather the drifting thoughts together into an answer that made any sense. She lost interest in trying when she felt herself jostled against him as he strode from her bedroom and then through the open doors of her balcony. He leapt from it, and yet she couldn’t arouse more than a few rapid heartbeats at the realization, couldn’t even tense as the expectation rolled through her of them splattering on the dirt four stories below. They didn’t fall, however, they floated. She thought for a while it was whatever was pumping through her blood that gave her the sense of floating. Rain soaked her gown until it clung to her all over. The wind pouring behind it made her skin pebble and her teeth chatter, but neither discomfort really roused her, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to shake the lethargy herself. He was giving her something, she realized vaguely the next time he sought her mouth and kissed her, knew exactly what he was doing. The sense of falling roused her from her semi-stupor after a time. The jolt when they stopped was fairly minor, however.

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“Oh my god! What did you do to her?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar. Before her brain managed to assimilate the information, fingers plucked at her eyelid, shoving it up, and a face swam into her vision— Sandra’s face. “She’s drugged.” He grunted instead answering. “Come if you’re coming.” Sandra jogged along beside them. “I’d begun to think you weren’t coming back. Two helicopters circled the area while you were gone. Fortunately, I was dirty enough I blended with the terrain,” she said, anger evident in her voice. “Where’s the ship?” “There is no ship.” “What do you mean ‘there is no ship’?” He turned his head to glare at her. “How did you get here?” “The same way my people came before.” “The ancient texts,” Nicole murmured. She felt his arms tighten around her, but there was no other indication that he’d heard her. “What way?” Sandra demanded. Luc stopped. Lifting his head, he scanned the desert around them and then the sky. Crouching, he settled Nicole on the ground. “Stay with her,” he told Sandra when he straightened again. Sandra glared at him but, after examining the ground, sat down beside Nicole. “No food. No water,” she muttered. “And I have to pee.” “You helped him escape,” Nicole said accusingly. Sandra glanced at her sharply. “Don’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind!” Nicole struggled to pull her thoughts together, but although she could feel the effects of the drug Luc had passed to her beginning to wear off, she was still having trouble focusing, still too lethargic to move. “At least a dozen times a day,” she admitted. “Not for the same reason, though.” Sandra glared at her. “You don’t know me! Don’t make judgments when you don’t know a damned thing about me! I care about him.” “Your career more,” Nicole managed to say. Sandra’s lips tightened. “And there’s something wrong with being ambitious?” “Depends on who you step on on the way up.” “He’s our only link to the only other intelligent species we’ve found,” Sandra said angrily. “And they were going to destroy him.” “His people might destroy ours.” “I don’t believe that, and I don’t believe you do either.” “It was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.” “Who are you kidding?” Sandra snapped angrily. “You wouldn’t take any risk for anybody for any reason.” Nicole pushed herself upright with an effort. “Neither would you—except for selfinterest. I’ll admit I’m a coward, but I did at least think about other people and the impact it might have on their lives.” “And I’ll admit I’m ambitious—but you know as well as I do that what they were doing, intended to do, wasn’t right! You appease your damned conscience your way. I’ll appease mine my way!”

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Luc distracted them from their argument by returning. They both turned to watch as he approached them. “The worm hole is opening. Come.” Sandra and Nicole both gaped at him, then turned to look at each other. “Worm hole?” He leaned down, caught each by a wrist and hauled them to their feet. “Worm hole,” he confirmed. Nicole, still sluggish and weak, wobbled when he pulled her to her feet. Releasing Sandra’s hand, he scooped her into his arms again and turned, striding briskly across the terrain, although the dawn had barely begun to break over the desert and deep shadows still surrounded them. The effects of the drug had worn off enough Nicole discovered she was no longer immune to fear. “You’re just going to step into it?” “We.” “I’m not sure I want to,” Sandra said, anger and fear in her voice. “Then don’t,” Luc said indifferently. She glared at him. “What happened to me being your beautiful brown princess, is what I’d like to know!” “The same thing that happened to me being your stud muffin,” Luc retorted tartly. “You used me. I used you. Get over it.” Nicole wasn’t certain but what it was a touch of hysteria that prompted it, but amusement rippled through her at the image the sobriquet conjured. “Stud muffin?” Both of them glared at her, and she bit her lip. The amusement vanished almost as quickly as it had arisen. “Why am I here?” she asked. “I brought you.” She glared at his profile. “Why did you bring me?” Luc paused. Lowering her to her feet, he caught her arm and turned and grasped Sandra’s arm. “You’re going to save my world—if there’s anything left to save. Take a deep breath.” Sandra and Nicole both gaped at him. Even as Nicole sucked in a deep breath—to inform him he had a hell of a recruitment plan, not because he’d warned her to, which she’d barely registered—he stepped forward, dragging both her and Sandra with him, and icy cold closed in around her. Light exploded around her, dizzying as it streamed past her gaze. Heat danced over her skin, stinging as if fire ants were crawling all over her. Air blasted her, rushing at her so fast she couldn’t suck any into her lungs. She struggled. Panic washed over her when she realized she couldn’t breathe, clawed at her mind, and then darkness began to descend over her, and she lost awareness of anything. She woke to the feel of Luc’s mouth on hers and his air in her lungs. She struggled to push him away, rousing in the same panic she’d descended into oblivion. He sat back on his heels and glared at her. “I told you to take a deep breath.” “You bastard!” Sandra snarled weakly, pushing herself from the ground to glare at him. Her own anger surging to the forefront, Nicole sat up, as well. The words she’d thought to fling at him died in her throat, however, as she became aware of her surroundings. “Where are we?” she asked hoarsely. Luc rose, pulling them both to their feet. “Hurry,” he said instead of answering. “The worm hole is closing.” Nicole was in no great rush to experience what she’d just experienced, but he didn’t give her a choice. He ran. He was still holding onto both her and Sandra, and they had the choice of running with him or being dragged.

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“Why …?” Sandra demanded. She didn’t manage to get anything else out. “Deep breath,” Luc commanded. This time Nicole filled her lungs a split second before they stepped into the worm hole. She didn’t lose consciousness that time, but she couldn’t see for the darkness encroaching. Apparently, Sandra was in no better state. Instead of ordering them to run when they touched down again, Luc curled an arm around her, lifting her off her feet, grabbed Sandra up with his other arm, and ran with them. “Breathe!” he ground out. Nicole began to feel as if she was being drowned. She had no more than sucked in a deep breath before she was plunged again into the horror of one worm hole after another. They touched down. Luc raced through darkness, then bright sunlight, then the dimness of dawn or dusk. She was in no state to assimilate more than the fact that they seemed to bounce from one world to another, unable to do more than pray it would stop, that he would stop. “No more,” she finally murmured weakly. “Please!” “One more,” Luc said. “Deep breath!” When they jolted to a halt again, Nicole gave up on trying to hold on to consciousness and welcomed the oblivion that closed over her. It was light burning against her eyelids that roused her. She tried to ignore it, too exhausted to feel the urge to open her eyes, but her senses had awoken and refused to shut down. Shadows flickered through the brightness shining against her eyelids. Air drifted over her, cooling her skin even as the sun heated it. The hardness beneath her, she finally realized, was dirt—the bare ground because she could feel harder lumps she realized were rocks digging into her. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Luc was seated with his back against a—tree?—a few feet from her, watching her intently. Groaning, she pushed herself upright and looked around. Sandra, she saw, was stranding a little distance away, staring upward at the sky. Nicole followed her gaze and felt everything inside of her freeze as she stared at the alien sky and the dim, barely visible trio of moons above them. “Where are we?” she asked hoarsely. “Nadryl. My world,” Luc said grimly, pushing to his feet and moving toward her. “What’s left of it.”

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Chapter Five Reaching her, Luc crouched in front of her, caught her chin, and examined her face carefully. “If you want to know if I’m alright—I’m not!” Nicole said testily. “Was it absolutely necessary to drag us from one worm hole to the next like that?” His expression hardened. “Yes. They open. They suck everything nearby into them— including air as you may have noticed—and then they collapse. It creates a chain reaction, leaping from planet to planet—like a storm funnel—and then it dissipates.” Nicole frowned. “And one just happened to form when you were ready to go?” His lips thinned, more at her tone, she thought, than the question. “It is always there. Only the time of day changes from one world to the next—on your world, it is as dawn breaks.” His gaze flickered over her face. “It gave you a reprieve,” he added silkily. The expression on his face was hard with intent and, unfortunately, not open to interpretation. It made her belly quiver with uneasiness. Regrettably, that wasn’t all she felt at the threat/promise in his expression that instantly reminded her he’d told her he always got what he wanted, or even the dominant feeling that washed through her. He helped her to her feet. “We need to move.” Sandra joined them. “I’m hungry. I’m thirsty. I’m tired, and I want a bath.” In total agreement with Sandra for a change, Nicole looked at Luc hopefully. He planted his hands on his hips and looked around. “I don’t see food, water, a bed, or a shower. We should move.” “Walk?” Sandra demanded after looking around. “Unless you can fly,” Luc responded dryly. “Very funny! Ha! Ha!” Luc sent her a narrow eyed look. “Quite aside from the fact that I find your constant chatter extremely annoying, you might want to consider that this world is in chaos. Civilization has no doubt collapsed in my absence—considering the state of things when I left—and with it order. I have no weapon to defend us with and you have none.” Nicole and Sandra exchanged a horrified look. Without a word, they moved a little closer to Luc, staring around them uneasily as he led the way from what appeared to have once been a field. It had been denuded of crop if that was the case, but, from the faint, regular furrows, it appeared to have been under cultivation at one time. They came eventually upon a dwelling—or what remained of one. Luc motioned for them to stop, which was actually unnecessary since both Sandra and Nicole had halted in their tracks the moment they saw the place. “Wait here—quietly—and try to stay out of sight.” Nicole and Sandra looked around, saw nothing to hide behind beyond a single, spindly tree, and turned to glare at his back as he strode quickly toward the ramshackle building in the distance. After exchanging a speaking glance, they moved to the tree almost as one and crouched behind it, trying to make as small a target as they could. “At least now I understand why he was so determined to go back for you,” Sandra said in

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a low voice after a few moments. Nicole glanced around uneasily. “Well, that’s more than I do,” she hissed. “He said we shouldn’t talk.” “He said we should be quiet,” Sandra reminded her. “I’m whispering.” “What happened here?” Nicole asked after a prolonged moment of silence. “Why has civilization collapsed? And what does it have to do with either of us?” Sandra shrugged. “Some sort of plague, from what he said. He’d gone to Earth to warn us and ask for help.” Nicole stared at her. Slowly, she lifted the neck edge of her nightgown and covered her nose and mouth. “Plague? You’re sure?” “It’s a little late to worry about that,” Sandra said dryly in reference to Nicole’s feeble, and seriously belated, attempt to protect herself from airborne contaminates. Anger flickered to life. “He exposed us to some kind of deadly virus without even warning us?” “Our government exposed us,” Sandra said tightly. “He told them why he’d come. I gather they decided he might be a biohazard, which is why they sent for us—to verify it or disprove it—except they didn’t tell us.” “Because they didn’t believe him, and obviously he isn’t a carrier—either that or we’re somehow immune, which I don’t believe for a moment. Genetically, our species are too similar for that to be likely. But he brought us here—without any sort of protection—so now we’ve probably been exposed.” Sandra shrugged. “He didn’t get any volunteers.” “If he’d asked, I would’ve.” “You did.” “I did not! He came into my room while I was asleep and used that—whatever it is he can do—and kidnapped me!” “Same thing. If you would’ve if he’d asked, why quibble about his methods?” “Because it’s—barbaric!” “Because maybe they are? Obviously, they aren’t as advanced as everyone thought. They just happened to stumble upon a discovery no one else has made—the worm holes—which is why he thought we could help.” “Without equipment?” Nicole demanded angrily. “You’re damned cool about this, I must say!” Sandra shrugged. “He was held by the military for weeks. The chances are, whatever it was, it’s already run its course.” “The thing is we don’t know what it is—or was! We don’t know that it has!” Noting that Luc was returning, thankfully not at a dead run or with anyone hot on his tail, they fell silent, studying his expression as he neared them. “It is abandoned. There is no food, but there is water and a bed. I think it will be safe enough here to rest the night.” Nicole and Sandra both surged to their feet. As far as Nicole could see, it wasn’t much more than mid-day, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he’d decided to allow them to stay and rest, but she wasn’t about to quibble over it. She’d had very little sleep since Luc had dragged her from her bed in the middle of the night, and she’d had nothing to eat or drink since that time. She didn’t know if she felt so weak because of that, or from the drug in her system, or the trauma of being sucked through the worm holes, but she welcomed the chance to at least get

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water and rest for a while. The structure had obviously not belonged to anyone of wealth. There were only two rooms and everything that was in it appeared to have been smashed and tossed about. Nicole halted in the doorway, glancing around, unnerved by the destruction that seemed the product of rage more than anything else. Stopping behind her, Sandra peered over her shoulder at the wrecked building. “Who would do this and why?” Lucifer had stopped in the middle of the main room, planting his hands on his hips and surveying the room critically. “Looters.” Glass, or at least the Saitren equivalent of it, crunched under Nicole’s bare foot as she stepped inside. She sucked in a gasp as pain shot through her foot. Luc strode toward her. Scooping her off her feet, he turned, surveyed the room, and then strode through it and into the smaller room at the back. The smaller room was in better shape, but Nicole rather thought it was more because it hadn’t contained much to break to begin with. A bed, roughly the size of her own double bed, leaned drunkenly along one wall. Tufts of whatever had been used to pad it spilled from several slashes in the mattress. Settling her on the surface, Luc dropped to one knee and lifted her foot to examine it. Nicole studied his face as he carefully picked the shard from her foot and examined it to make certain no particles remained in the small wound. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he removed the splinter and then brushed off the sandy soil clinging to the bottom of her foot. Embarrassed by the dirt, although, considering how far she’d walked barefoot, the only real surprise was that her foot wasn’t dirtier, she curled her foot in an attempt to hide it, trying to pull her foot from his grasp. He flicked a glance at her face, but instead of releasing her foot, he lifted it to his lips. She stared at him in surprise, at first, when he touched his lips lightly to the pad of her foot next to the wound, but as he brushed his lips along her toes, she felt her belly shimmy. He saw the effect his touch had on her. “Ew! Don’t tell me you’re in to toe sucking, Nicky!” The gleam of promise in Luc’s eyes turned to annoyance at Sandra’s intrusion. As glad as Nicole was for the distraction, the comment irritated her, as well. She felt a blush of embarrassment heat her cheeks as she looked up at Sandra in the doorway. “He pulled the glass out of my foot,” she said tightly. “Right! I found something that looks like it might work for shoveling some of this up. You think you can hobble out here and give me a hand, princess?” The snide remark was completely unwarranted. She hadn’t demanded to be babied, hadn’t even asked. Luc had taken it upon himself to whisk her up and tend to the cut. “I think I can manage.” “No,” Luc said implacably, rising to his full height. “She’s barefoot. You should be able to clear a path without help. The room isn’t that big. I will see what I can find to cover the windows.” Sandra glared at him resentfully as he pushed past her and left, then turned a baleful eye on Nicole. “If you can sweep up the glass, I’ll see if I can find something to scoop it up with,” Nicole said. Sandra didn’t look particularly mollified, but she merely shrugged and returned to the main room. When she’d left, Nicole studied her foot for a moment and finally pulled up the

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hem of her nightgown. It was made of a synthetic/cotton blend and long enough she figured she could spare a few inches off the bottom to use as a bandage. Her foot hadn’t bled much, but she didn’t want dirt embedded in the wound. Fortunately, it was her favorite nightgown, which meant it was worn enough she managed to start a tear in the fabric with her teeth. It distressed her to damage the nightgown, because it was her favorite, and also because she didn’t have anything else to wear and she hated the thought of running around Nadryl in nothing but a ragged nightgown. On the other hand, she hated the idea of collecting germs with the open wound even worse. The room darkened as she lifted her foot across her thigh to wind the makeshift bandage around her foot. Startled, she looked up and found Luc framed in the single window the room boasted. His gaze flickered over her bared leg, pausing at the juncture of her thighs for a long moment. Frowning, he dragged his gaze from her and looked down at something beyond her view. Placing several spiky looking metal pieces between his lips, he heaved a wide piece of wood up and placed it over the opening, cutting out most of the light. Nicole stared at the panel as he commenced to pounding on it with something, thinking, if he meant to keep out insects with it, that wasn’t likely to do a great deal of good. She could still see glimpses of the outdoors on either side of whatever it was he was using to cover the window. When her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she returned her attention to her foot, wrapping the strip around it several times and then splitting the end far enough to tie a knot at the top of her foot. Her gown, she saw when she moved her foot, was around her waist, exposing the crotch of her granny white panties. That must have thrilled him, she thought irritably! Pushing off the mattress, she stood up and hobbled to the door to the other room. Sandra, she saw, had thoughtfully raked a path from the bedroom through the main room to the door. As Nicole entered, she was shoving the debris out the front opening. It offended Nicole’s sense of neatness to simply pitch everything out the door, but after surveying the room she was obliged to admit there didn’t seem to be anything to put the trash in. Finding a thin piece of wood that looked as if it might have been the bottom of a drawer at one time, Nicole carefully picked her way to the door and used the ‘scoop’ to rake what she could of the debris into a pile just outside. The hammering from Luc’s efforts to make the place habitable continued off and on as they cleared the main room of the cabin. By the time they had raked up what they could and Nicole went inside to survey the room again, Luc had covered the other two windows the cabin boasted and it was dim enough inside the place actually didn’t look half bad—especially when compared to what it had looked like before. Sandra, Nicole discovered, had moved to the bedroom. She was surveying the mattress with her hands on her hips and a look of disgust on her face. She glanced at Nicole. “Give me a hand turning this and let’s see what the other side looks like.” Grunting with effort, the two of them managed to heave the mattress upright. After surveying the other side, they exchanged a look and dropped it again. Whatever had stained the other side, it looked much worse than the one that had been turned up. The two of them collapsed on the mattress. “I don’t even want to think about what made those stains. I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink on the bed—and I’m sure as hell not sleeping on the filthy floor,” Sandra commented.

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“Did you see water? Because I didn’t see any water. I haven’t seen a sign of a bathroom either, and I’ve got a bad feeling I’m not going to like it when Luc gets around to telling us where the bathroom is.” Nicole studied her wearily. “I’m too tired to care at the moment.” “Which only means you don’t have to pee. If you did, you wouldn’t be too tried to care. It’s outside. I know it. I feel it in my bones.” Actually, she did, but she was far more interested in how they were going to share one bed—and not a very large bed. Luc would take up most of it by himself. The sound of splashing water filtered to them, and she exchanged a look with Sandra. “Damn it!” Sandra muttered, getting to her feet. “I told you it was outside!” She watched Sandra stalk to the door and disappear. After a moment, she got up and followed her, led by the sounds of splashing water that grew more distinct as she left the cabin. Luc, as naked as the day he was born, was standing in the yard behind the cabin, very unconcernedly bathing in the water spewing from a spout sticking up about three feet from the ground. Sandra, her hands on her hips, was unabashedly watching him. Nicole, who’d frozen to the spot, had just decided to turn around and retreat back into the cabin when he lifted his head. She was reasonably certain since she could see him, he could see her, even though Sandra stood between them. Looking away even as she saw his head come up, she beat a retreat. It was one thing to examine him, naked, in a lab type setting, something entirely different in their current situation. Hobbling inelegantly on one foot since she was trying to keep her injured foot off the dirt, Nicole ducked back around the building as quickly as she could. She didn’t realize Luc had followed her until she heard the padding of his bare feet across the floor of the main room and a curse as he found a piece of the glass they’d missed. She bounded off the mattress, where she’d gone to perch, glancing at the doorway as he came to halt in it—still naked and dripping water, the trousers he’d been wearing draped over one shoulder. Propping a shoulder against the frame, he lifted his foot, plucked the piece of glass out and then, after looking around, flicked it toward the far wall. Nicole followed the path of the missile. When she glanced back at Luc, he was still leaning against the doorframe—filling the doorway, actually. Uneasiness filtered through her as he glanced at the bed and then at her. She crossed her arms over her chest. He studied the movement and then lifted his gaze to her face. “There’s a pump outside.” Nicole tried to clear her throat of the obstruction there. “Yes, I saw.” A faint smile curled one corner of his mouth. The movement drew her gaze. She studied his finely etched lips, feeling her belly do a slow shimmy. Her eyes widened as he straightened and moved into the room, coming to stand directly in front of her. “You have not asked me why I brought you,” he murmured. “Sandra told me. Where is she, by the way?” One of his black brows rose. “Occupied.” It was impossible to miss the undertones of that comment. Nicole wrestled with whether to address it directly or not and decided not to when it occurred to her that it would be very embarrassing to do so and then discover she’d completely misinterpreted the remark. He reached for her arms. Clasping her wrists, he unfolded her arms. Nicole resisted, briefly, but there was no real contest of strength. He placed her hands against his chest and stepped closer. Acutely conscious of the fact that nothing stood between her and him but her

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flimsy, threadbare nightgown, Nicole felt her heartbeat accelerate with both deepening anxiety and the desire the man stirred in her with so little effort it was unnerving. He caught her jaw in the crook of his hand, tipping her face up and holding her gaze. “Do you want to know what I promised myself if I managed to get out of that stinking cage your government kept me in?” Nicole tried to swallow convulsively several times before she managed it. “No,” she whispered. Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, irritation, amusement. “You do not need me to tell you, do you, Nicky? You know already.” She wasn’t sure she did. She thought she did, or at least what he wanted her to believe. She was fairly certain, though, that she didn’t want him to enlighten her. “You don’t need me,” she managed finally. “You have Sandra.” The emotions that flickered in his eyes that time were harder to decipher. He tilted his head, moving closer until his lips nearly brushed hers. “This has nothing to do with that.” The comment threw her into complete disorder—that and the fact that his lips brushed hers as he spoke and his heat, and scent, and taste set her senses to rioting—dredging up the devastating memory of his kiss before, reminding her of his assurance his claiming would be a mating and there would be no doubt in her mind afterward that she was his. She wasn’t certain there’d ever been any doubt in her mind, though. It was the main reason she’d been afraid to allow him to cross the fragile barrier protecting her. “It doesn’t?” He brushed his lips back and forth across hers. She wasn’t certain if he was merely shaking his head, or trying to drive her crazy. Whatever his intent, that was certainly the effect. It took all she could do to keep from shifting closer to feel his mouth more firmly against hers. Her flesh prickled as he moved his lips from hers to her ear. “I will let you figure it out,” he murmured. She stared at him when he released her, trying to decide if she was relieved or sorry. “You should go and take care of your needs. It will not be safe to go out after dark,” he said coolly as she stepped away from him. She studied him for a moment as he dragged his trousers from his shoulder and held them out to step into them, then she moved unsteadily toward the door. She met Sandra as she rounded the corner of the cabin. “You see that?” Sandra said with obvious disgust, turning to point at a tiny, leaning structure beyond the pump where Luc had bathed. “That is the facilities!” Nicole stared at the ‘facilities’ in dismay. “You’ll want to hold your breath when go in,” Sandra advised her. **** “You’re leaving us? Here?” Sandra exclaimed in outrage. Luc sent her a shuttered, brooding look that made Nicole uneasy, although it seemed to go right over Sandra’s head that he looked as if he was contemplating strangling her. His gaze slid from Sandra after a moment to Nicole. Nicole glanced from him to Sandra and tried to pretend she was invisible. She didn’t like the idea of him leaving them alone any better than Sandra did, but she had the distinct feeling Luc wasn’t a man accustomed to being challenged or questioned—by anyone. “Keep the door bolted once night falls. I will return as quickly as I can.” “Don’t just stand there like a dolt!” Sandra hissed at Nicole as Luc stalked away from them. “Say something!” “Like what?” Nicole mumbled irritably. “Please don’t go?” Luc stopped abruptly and turned back to look at her.

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Realizing he must have overheard her, Nicole felt her face redden. He stared at her for a long moment. Finally, frowning, he turned away again. Her heart fluttered uncomfortably in her chest as she watched him spread his wings and spring upward. A gust of air wafted over the two of them as he flapped the great wings and lifted higher. Sandra was glaring at her when she looked at her again. She shook her head in disgust. “Men!” Turning, she stalked back to the cabin. Nicole watched her for a moment before turning to search the sky for Luc. He was far overhead now, and she felt the uncomfortable squeezing sensation in her chest again. The human mind was a strange thing, she reflected. She’d been aware of those wings every time she’d looked at him, watched the others examine and measure and catalogue them, and she’d still, basically, ignored their existence, had never really wrapped her mind around the fact that, if they were there, they were as functional as the rest of his anatomy—and it still made her feel a strange, incomprehensible rush of emotions to watch him use them as thoughtlessly and effortlessly as one reached to pick something up, walked, or ran. “I’ve got a blinding headache,” Sandra announced when Nicole joined her in the cabin. “I’ve drank water until my eyeballs are floating, and I’m still starving. I can’t believe there isn’t any food in this damned cabin!” Nicole glanced around the room, but nothing to sit on magically appeared. “Maybe Luc went to find food?” she said hopefully, trying to ignore the painful gnawing in her own stomach. “Right!” Sandra said, moving to prop on one wall since there was no where to sit. “I can’t believe that asshole left without saying a word about where he was going or when he’d be back! Why didn’t you ask him where he was going?” Nicole was taken aback. “He didn’t tell you. Why would he tell me?” Sandra rolled her eyes. “Puhleese! That man’s got a serious crush on you. All you had to say was ‘please don’t go’ and he looked like he’d hit a brick wall!” For a moment, Nicole felt like she might be having cardiac arrest. She wasn’t certain if she liked the suggestion or if it terrified her, but she damned sure wasn’t indifferent about it. “That’s not even funny, Sandra!” “It sure as hell isn’t!” Sandra snapped. “The only reason he wants your skinny white ass is because you turned him down!” Nicole glared at her indignantly. “My ass isn’t skinny!” Sandra narrowed her eyes and finally snickered. “I didn’t mean your ass. I meant you.” “I’m not skinny either,” Nicole said stiffly. “I’m in the right weight range for my height, I’ll have you know.” Sandra let out a huff of irritation. “I’m just saying I don’t see what he sees in you. Why didn’t you have sex with him, anyway?” Nicole folded her arms over her chest defensively, but she couldn’t help the blush that rose in her face. “I wasn’t about to take off my clothes in front of everybody.” Sandra studied her speculatively for a moment. “Besides being a prude. Don’t tell me you aren’t the least bit interested, because I know better.” “There were a lot of reasons,” Nicole said testily. “Starting and ending with he’s an alien, and I make it a policy to try not to get involved with any man when there’s no future in it.” “I was talking sex,” Sandra said dryly. “You can have sex without getting involved.” “Maybe you can. I can’t.” Sandra’s eyes narrowed. “I think that was an insult.”

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Nicole sighed irritably. “Take it that way if you want to. You said it. I’m just saying I’ve never been interested in sex with any man I wasn’t already … interested in. And the best way to keep from getting involved with anyone completely unsuitable is just to keep my distance. I’m not saying I wasn’t tempted at all. He’s very attractive, but I already felt terrible knowing what they meant to do to him. I didn’t see any sense in allowing intimacy, and certainly none in encouraging it, when that would only make things worse when I knew that.” “So now you’re saying you cared and I didn’t? I was the one that helped him escape.” Nicole narrowed her eyes at Sandra. “I wasn’t talking about you at all!” she said indignantly. “I was talking about me, so stop laying your guilt down as a judgment on my part.” “I don’t feel guilty. I’ve no reason to feel guilty. I enjoyed it. He enjoyed it. No harm, no foul. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so standoffish. I thought you were frigid— because that’s what I’d heard—but you aren’t—you’re just plain scared.” “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are. And don’t hand me that ‘no future’ business, because that doesn’t wash anymore. He isn’t slated for termination, now.” “He’s still an alien. That hasn’t changed.” Sandra lifted her brows questioningly. Nicole glared at her. She didn’t have to tell Sandra a damned thing! “I’m not on birth control!” she snapped, buckling under that steady stare as if Sandra had pulled the information from her. Sandra’s eyes widened. “You can not be serious! You know what the fine is for an unlicensed pregnancy?” “I’m not an idiot! Yes, I know.” “You could’ve fooled me. Are you trying to end up in jail?” Nicole gave her a look. “It’s never been a problem for me. I hardly ever see a man, and when I do they’re like—Mark and Clements—too young, too old, or too round—certainly not appealing enough that self-control is an issue.” “And you think that’s reason enough to play Russian Roulette with your life?” “It’s not Russian Roulette if you don’t have sex! That’s the point—I don’t—hardly ever. I figured if I actually met anyone I was interested in getting involved with that I could get the birth control then—or use a condom or a day-after. Not being on birth control is not only a good way to keep my wits and not do anything I’ll regret later, but it also works to keep them at a distance. All I have to do is tell them I could get pregnant and they instantly lose interest. “What do you care, anyway? You’ve been giving me the evil eye ever since you had sex with him as if you’d marked your territory and I was trying to invade. Or is that what this is about? Making sure I’m not going to try to invade your territory?” Sandra shrugged. “He isn’t my territory. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy having sex with him—he’s damned good—but he isn’t my type and I’m not his. We’ve pretty well established that, and I’m no more interested in getting emotionally involved than you are. As he said—I used him, he used me—we’re both satisfied with the end results. He’s got his freedom. I’ve got an opportunity to do something of real importance.” Nicole frowned at her. “If this isn’t about staking your claim and telling me to back off, what is it about?” Sandra shrugged again. “Curiosity, I guess. I don’t think Luc’s used to women telling him no.” “That isn’t my problem.”

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“Ah contraire! I think it is.” Uneasiness flickered through Nicole. She wrestled with her anxieties, but the truth was Sandra obviously knew a lot more about men than she did, even if she was younger. “So you’re saying as soon as he manages to get what he wants he’ll stop being interested?” Sandra considered that thoughtfully. “Hard to say,” she responded finally. “He told me he was married once, but she died. I got the impression that was a long, long time ago. If he hasn’t taken a woman since then as anything more or less permanent, then he’s either still attached to her, or he never was because he isn’t the kind of man that does. “Personally, I think he’s a player. He doesn’t get attached. There’s a serious ruthlessness about that man that makes him sexy as hell—scary but sexy. I’d say if you think you’ll get burned, you will, but I don’t think you’re going to have any luck holding him off if he’s determined to have you. In fact, I know you won’t. He can use that whammy thingy of his on you any time he wants to and you’re a goner. I think the only reason he hasn’t yet is because it pricked his ego that you resisted at all, and he’s more focused on the ‘hunt’ at the moment than the capture—that and a lack of opportunity to devote the time to it he wants to. “Obviously, he’s got some serious problems to take care of here. I wasn’t a distraction. I was his route to get back to it. You are a distraction, and he figures he can’t afford it at the moment. “Does it strike you as not quite fitting the picture that he’d be the one to use the worm holes to search for help?” Nicole frowned, struggling to catch up with the leap in the conversation. “I don’t think I see what you’re getting at.” “Well, we can strike ‘scout’, although the military seemed pretty convinced he was, because, obviously, he didn’t have invasion on his mind—there wouldn’t have been any reason to bring us back with him if there was nothing to his story. Do you think the average John Q. Citizen of Nadryl would have any idea about the worm holes? Because if they did, I’m thinking we would’ve had a lot more visitors from this place. And how would the average John Q. Citizen have any idea of what was going on? It’d take somebody up high, looking down, to know what the big picture was.” “You think he’s somebody important here?” “Or was. If what he thinks has happened did, then I don’t suppose his ranking matters much anymore. I was just thinking it explains a lot of things I was wondering about.” Nicole felt a coldness sweep through her. “I hope you’re wrong, Sandra,” she said finally, “because, if you’re right, our government made a potentially dangerous enemy.”

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Chapter Six “General Blackhardt!” Lucifer studied his second in command grimly as he came to attention. Relief, guilt, and anger flickered over Azael’s face in quick succession. “The city’s in riot—the whole gods be damned country,” Lucifer growled. Discomfort and anger warred in the man’s eyes. “I’m aware of that, General--sir.” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. After pinning the man with a cold stare long enough that sweat began to bead his forehead, he shifted his gaze to the control room—which was as chaotic as everything else he’d seen, or worse. Jerking his head in the direction of his office, he strode toward it. Azael followed as he’d expected. “Status?” Lucifer asked in a clipped voice when Azael had closed the door behind him. “At our best guess, fifty percent of the population is already infected. Quarantine was completely ineffectual. The mortality rate, as far as we’ve been able to determine, is one hundred percent—it just takes the strongest longer to die. The children and elders have been hardest hit, but the women aren’t far behind. We’ve lost nearly fifty percent of our force—either to illness, death, or desertion. They’ve been trying to take their families to safety—and I don’t blame them—but there isn’t any place safe that we’ve been able to determine. The Anjels are in as bad a shape as we are if not worse. I don’t have enough men left to control the riots and looting.” Lucifer studied him for a long moment and finally nodded, moving to the window. “No luck, I assume, in finding a treatment?” “They haven’t come up with anything that seems to have any effect beyond delaying the inevitable,” Azael responded grimly. Lucifer was silent for a moment, struggling against the sick frustration churning in his belly, and the sudden realization that he’d very likely succeeded in doing nothing but bringing Nicole to his world to die with everyone else. He shrugged the thought off. She was a respected scientist on her world. Her government wouldn’t have brought her in otherwise. She and Sandra might be his world’s only hope. He couldn’t afford to allow his personal feelings to interfere with his duty and, in any case, their world was at risk, as well. “Any word from my … Dr. Blackhardt?” “He told us to fuck off.” A grim smile curled Lucifer’s lips. “If we had anyone capable of coming up with a treatment or a vaccine, it would be him,” he said meditatively. “He’s working on it—the same as our people. Should I send someone to bring him in?” Lucifer turned to look at his second in command, considering it briefly if for no other reason than his own desire to try to mend the breach between himself and his son while they might still have the time to do so, but finally he shook his head, reminding himself he couldn’t allow his personal feelings to hamper the good of the majority. “He doesn’t need to be here to do his job. I’ve brought two scientists that might be able to help us. I’d intended to bring a detachment to escort them, but I can see we don’t have anyone to spare if we’re to keep the

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center secure. We sure as hell can’t risk the place being overrun and ransacked! Requisition an armored skimmer. You and I will bring them in. Be quick about it. I left them in a fairly secure location since I suspected pretty much what I found, but they’re vulnerable to attack.” Azael saluted. “And Azael—get me some gods be damned weapons! Their government relieved me of mine as soon as I arrived. I had a hell of a fucking time getting here.” **** The things Sandra had said certainly didn’t do anything for Nicole’s peace of mind, but she discovered that, despite her uneasiness about Luc, as dusk settled around the little farm where they’d holed up, she was more anxious for his return than worried that he would. The very desertedness of the place wore on her nerves. It wasn’t that she actually wanted to encounter any of the natives, but it seemed so unnatural not to see any sign of life that that was enough by itself to grate on her nerves. Sandra obviously felt it, as well, because she became more and more antsy as the day wore on. After scouring the cabin over and over in search of anything edible, she’d insisted that Nicole accompany her to see if they couldn’t find some sort of berries to appease her cavernously empty stomach. The cabin didn’t look all that secure to Nicole, but as hungry as she was, she still didn’t like the idea of putting much distance between her and the four walls. She allowed Sandra to nag her into leaving it for a search eventually. They didn’t have a lot of luck for all that. They did manage to locate a tree that looked as if it had been cultivated for its fruit, but most of what it had borne had fallen from its branches and was already rotting on the ground. They gathered up the few that looked like they might be able to get a bite or two off of them and headed back to the cabin. The taste of whatever it was wasn’t terribly appealing. Nicole didn’t know if it was the fact that the fruit was already half rotted, or if it always tasted that bad. She ate a little anyway since she was feeling lightheaded and weak from hunger, figuring it wasn’t likely to hurt them. The size of the fruit indicated cultivation as well as the location of the tree, which seemed to rule out the possibility of the fruit being poisonous to them, and she figured at the worst she hadn’t consumed enough to kill her even if it wasn’t particularly good for human consumption. Afterwards, Sandra was up and scrounging again. “What are you looking for now?” Nicole asked irritably. “A pot to piss in.” “You’re not serious! The facilities out there are bad enough.” “Exactly! But it’s getting dark. No way in hell am I going out there once it’s pitch black outside, and I’m not sure I could hold it till morning.” She had a point. It was almost dark by the time they managed to find a container of any description. They stood guard for each other as they made use of the facilities one last time, then hurried to the pump to drink all the water they could hold, and then scurried inside the cabin and barred the door. It was as dark as the inside of a cave as soon as they did. Neither of them had considered the fact that there was no artificial light at all to give them any kind of comfort. Opening the door again, they scrambled to find anything that might give them even a little light and, when they discovered that search was useless, ran back inside and began to drag up what little remained inside the cabin to form a barricade against the outer door. “At least we don’t have to worry about the privacy to take a piss,” Sandra said in disgust. “If we can find the damned pot,” Nicole agreed.

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Deciding there wasn’t any point in simply standing around, they felt their way to the bedroom and climbed on the mattress. Despite their earlier exhaustion neither of them had done more than doze after Luc left and although they entertained each other for a short while talking, it didn’t take either of them long to give up on trying to stay awake in the hope that Luc would return. Nicole found it hard to rest even so. There was nothing to cover up with, and she discovered the mattress, once she’d lain her head on it, was both musty and malodorous enough to add to the discomfort of the lumpiness. Insects swarming inside to chew on them wasn’t a problem, but the unfamiliar noises of the night creatures kept her nerves on edge. Eventually, she dozed fitfully, disturbed by her own fears and Sandra’s, too, since Sandra tossed and turned much of the night. The room had lightened with approaching dawn when something slammed into the door hard enough that both Nicole and Sandra bolted upright out of a deep sleep. Nicole felt as if her heart was lodged in her throat as she stared with burning, terrified eyes at the front door, waiting for another sound to verify it hadn’t just been a nightmare. She didn’t have more than a moment to wait. A second hard slamming against the door followed the first fairly quickly. Nicole and Sandra whipped their heads around to stare at each other. “Luc?” Sandra called out in a quavering voice before Nicole had any idea she meant to. Nicole clamped a hand over her mouth. Sandra shoved it away, glaring at her. Before she could say anything, however, a banging commenced on the front door and every window. Nicole and Sandra screamed almost in unison and grabbed each other. “You gave us away!” Nicole hissed fearfully. “Like they wouldn’t have been able to figure out the doors and windows being barred meant somebody was in here?” “They wouldn’t have known it was women!” Sandra looked disconcerted, but she bounced back quickly. “It’s too late to worry about that now. What do we do? Wait and hope Luc gets back before they beat the door down?” “I’m sure as hell not going out there!” “We don’t have any food! Go away!” Sandra yelled. There was a brief pause that told them Sandra had been heard, whether they’d understood her version of Saitren or not, and then the hammering commenced again, harder than before. “Ok, so now they’re sure there’s a woman in here!” Nicole said accusingly. “My husband will be back any minute, assholes!” Sandra screamed. “Will you shut the hell up!” Nicole ground out. “Are you trying to get us killed? And Luc? There’s at least four of them! And now that you’ve so damned conveniently informed them that we’re expecting somebody, they’ll just try harder to get in more quickly!” “I’m going to find me something to club them with if they come in,” Sandra said decisively, peeling Nicole loose and climbing from the bed. “We cleaned everything out,” Nicole hissed, “except for the stuff we piled in front of the door, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to move any of that.” Sandra turned to study her. “The bed’s broke. Get off and let’s see if we can pull something loose from it.” Nicole didn’t want to move. In fact, she wasn’t at all sure her legs would hold her, but she climbed off—Mostly because Sandra was already pulling on the mattress and threatening to

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roll her off. She was sweating with effort by the time they managed to pull the heavy mattress off the bed and peered through the shadows at the frame that had held it. Either Sandra could see better than she could or she just decided to test the pieces. She grabbed what looked to be a corner post and began trying to work it loose. “Why’s it so damned dark in here?” Glancing toward the window, she encountered an eyeball peering at them through the crevice to one side of the plank Luc had nailed over the opening. Letting out a blood curdling scream, she ran around and around, making several circles around the room and finally darted into the other room. When she came back, she was holding their makeshift potty. She pitched the contents at the eyeball. Furious curses erupted from the other side. Nicole and Sandra exchanged a horrified look. The eyeball didn’t appear again. Instead, several fingers were wedged into the opening. Screaming again, Sandra started pounding on the fingers with their potty. “Let it go! Let it go, you son of a bitch!” Too terrified to move, Nicole merely gaped at her for some moments. The escalation of noise from the front of the cabin finally penetrated her stupor, however, and she began grabbing at the bed again, trying to work something loose that she could use as a club. “They’re coming in the front! They’re coming in the front!” she babbled. “He’s prying the board off! Give me something!” Sandra screamed at her. With no clear idea of what she’d managed to pull from the bed, Nicole dashed across the room and handed it to her. Sandra stared blankly at the tuft of bedding for several moments and threw it down. “What am I supposed to do with that? Shove it down his throat and try to choke him with it?” Nicole gaped at her and then whirled and dashed back to the bed, tugging and pulling until she managed to pull loose the post Sandra had been working at. She couldn’t lift it, she discovered. She dragged it over to Sandra anyway. Grunting with effort when she took it, Sandra managed to lift the thing off the floor, and Nicole dashed back to the bed to find a weapon for herself. The rail at one end had broken, she discovered, and she grabbed that, managing to wrench it loose just about the time she heard the piece on the window give way. Sandra screamed. Nicole heard several meaty thuds. When she finally got her club loose and turned, the man was half way in the window, trying to hold Sandra off and climb through. Uttering a shriek, Nicole threw herself into the fray, clubbing the man on the back of his head and his shoulders until he stopped moving. Heaving for breath, Nicole and Sandra stared at the man. The sound of shattering wood from the main room of the cabin galvanized them. In mute harmony, they dove for the window and fought their way out, hampered by each other and the man still blocking a good bit of the window. They tumbled out onto the ground in a heap, struggled for a moment to disentangle themselves, and finally managed to get to their feet and sprint for the orchard far behind the cabin where they’d found the rotted fruit. It was fortunate for both of them that they were too mindless with terror to consider throwing down their clubs. They hadn’t passed the pump when the sound of wings penetrated their terror. Sandra looked up, saw what was hovering above them, and commenced to screaming and running in a serpentine loop. Nicole, too frightened to look up, followed her, screaming every time Sandra let out a whoop. There were more than four, Nicole realized dimly as the men settled to the ground

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surrounding them, at least a half dozen excluding the one she’d clubbed into unconsciousness— unless he’d already come around and joined his brethren. More by chance than design, Nicole and Sandra came together back to back, lifting their clubs. “I don’t think they wanted food,” Nicole said shakily. **** Lucifer was already chafing at the delays. Their skimmer had been attacked twice before they could get out of the city. Armed and armored as it was, it had still been a near thing that they’d managed to come out of the two battles with the skimmer still in a condition to fly. Regardless, it had been damaged significantly enough that they’d been limping along at three quarter speed and he’d been tempted to ditch it. The only reason he hadn’t ordered it was because he knew they’d have to have it to carry Nicole and Sandra back with them. They couldn’t carry the women and fight at the same time. His stomach, twisted in knots with nerves at the delay, tightened more painfully as he stared ahead of them at the area where the cabin lay and spied the mob circling it. “Gods damn it to Hades!” he roared as the cabin came into view and he saw what was happening. “Set it down!” “We can use the ship’s artillery!” Azael countered. “They’ve got the women surrounded! Set it down!” Lucifer bellowed, shoving the door open and leaping from the ship. Their screams of terror filled his ears the moment he leapt from the ship. He spread his wings as soon as he’d cleared it, but he made no attempt to slow his descent by much. The men, completely preoccupied with their prey, hadn’t noticed his arrival or didn’t consider him enough of a threat to divert them. They were closing on the women. Even as he watched, Nicole and Sandra, batting frantically at the men with pieces of wood, had their clubs snatched from their hands. A split second later, both women disappeared beneath them. Landing at the periphery of the struggling mass, he drew his sword from its scabbard and shoved the blade into the back of the first man he came to. The scream he uttered as the blade sliced through him sent a warning ripple through the others. Three of the men scrambled to their feet and whirled to meet him. The two men that had Nicole and Sandra renewed their efforts to subdue them. If they managed it before he could get to them, he realized grimly, he was going to have a battle in flight on his hands, and it would be next to impossible to get Nicole and Sandra away from them and still prevent them from being harmed. Uttering a bellow of rage, he commenced to hacking and slamming at the men that kept him from reaching the women, more focused on that than dispatching the men. The distraction nearly got him gutted. The blade caught him in the side even as he leapt aside, but, despite the burn as it went into him, he thought he’d managed to protect his vital organs. As enraged with himself for the mistake as he was with the man who’d caught him with his blade, he uttered a guttural growl and slammed his elbow into the man’s face, catching him with his blade between the neck and shoulder as the man fell back. The blow sliced cleanly through the flesh and lighter bone and then stuck in the heavier bone of his spine or shoulder blade. Gritting his teeth, he jerked at his sword, trying to dislodge it. From his right, he caught sight of a second attacker as the man swung at him. Lurching sideways, he managed to drag the body attached to his sword between him and his assailant, using the body as a shield. The man who’d swung at him speared his ‘shield’ instead, dislodging Lucifer’s blade in the process of beheading the corpse. He danced back for room to maneuver, sparing a moment to glance toward Nicole and

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Sandra again. Azael, he saw with relief, had attacked from the rear, dispatching another man. The man who held Sandra gave her an abrupt shove that sent her flying into Azael. He caught her with one arm and whipped her behind his back, barely managing to catch the man’s blade with his own. Three down, he reflected grimly, four to go, but the men had nothing to lose and everything to gain. They fought ferociously. He killed a second man, but he was beginning to tire. He didn’t have to look far for the reason. The stickiness pouring down his side was answer enough. The fighting was close, too close to give any of them an advantage, making it nearly impossible to use his sword for much more than a club. There was certainly not enough room to put much strength behind his swings. It became an advantage to him as he tired, however, because it also prevented his opponents from putting much force behind their blows. Slamming his elbow into one man’s face, he barely managed to get his sword up to catch a swing at him by a second with his sword. For several moments, they swayed back and forth, each of them leaning into the swords in an effort to overpower the other. The man he’d elbowed in the face recovered and charged. He leapt aside at the last moment, disengaging his blade, and the charging man impaled his opponent hilt deep with his sword. Before he could recover, Lucifer skewered the two of them, shoving his blade through the back of one and into the belly of the other. They ripped his blade from his grip as they fell. He leapt for it, wrenching it loose, but as he turned, he discovered all but one man had been dispatched. And that man held Nicole. As if held in the thrall of a nightmare, he saw Azael lunge forward with his blade extended. “No!” he bellowed, but even as the word left his throat, even as he launched himself forward to try to stop him, he saw Azael’s blade pierce the man. The man convulsed as it went into him, uttering a choked cry. And then Nicole screamed. He’d never heard a more terrible sound. It tore into his chest as if someone had launched a spear through his heart. It echoed in his ears as he leapt over the tangle of bodies that separated them, tied his guts into knots as he watched both Nicole and her captor sink slowly to the ground. Dropping to his knees when he reached her, he let go of his sword and scooped her into his arms. She was completely limp and dizziness swept over him as he registered it. He shifted his arm beneath her to support her head, lifting a shaking hand to brush the hair from her face. Her eyes were closed. He didn’t know whether to be glad for it or not. He thought his heart might have failed him if he’d found himself looking into her dead eyes. Hope flickered to life, though, unwarranted or not. He brought her face close to his. Her breath brushed his cheek lightly. “Nicky?” “Did she faint?” “Is she dead?” Lucifer glanced blindly at Sandra and Azael as they spoke, trying to wrap his mind around the possibility that she might be dying. He transferred his attention to Nicky again almost immediately and eased her away enough to skim his hand over her in search of injury. Even as relief began to pour through him, however, he felt a hot stickiness along her back, and

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he knew it wasn’t his own blood. Easing her carefully to the ground, he rolled her over just as gently and stared sickly at the blood seeping through her gown. “Make sure all the bastards are dead, Azael,” he ground out without looking up. “See if you can get through to headquarters. Tell them we need a surgeon if they can find one and then bring the skimmer.” He hoped to the gods they needed a surgeon—and could find one. “Aye, General Blackhardt!” Swallowing a little sickly, he peeled her gown up to look at the wound. Contrary to what he’d hoped, it gave him no comfort to see it. The blade had pierced her back just beneath her ribs. A little higher and the bone might have stopped it—or not. It might have punctured her lungs. He had no idea how deeply the blade had gone into her and none of what organs might have been compromised. He was no surgeon, and he wasn’t certain he would’ve had the stomach to look if he had been. It took all he could do to hold on to the little self-control he had and force his mind to function even a little. Catching the hem of her gown, he tore a strip off and formed a pad. Sandra placed a hand on it to press down on the wound as he tore off another strip, and he flicked a grateful glance at her. “You’re cut to pieces,” she commented. “And the other guy—Azael.” “We’ll do till we get back to headquarters,” he muttered. “I don’t imagine you’re used to people disagreeing with you, General,” Sandra said dryly, if somewhat shakily, “but I’m not sure you can. Your side looks pretty bad to me. Is there a med-kit in the skimmer?” He shook his head, focused on wrapping the second strip he’d torn off around Nicole and tying it snugly. “I do not know—maybe—probably.” She left, but he scarcely noticed as he studied the pad. Blood had begun to soak through it even before he managed to get the binding around her, but it didn’t seem to be bleeding as much as before. Uncertain of whether or not he could trust his judgment, he finally straightened her gown and turned her onto her back. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him vaguely for a moment before he saw recognition flicker in her eyes. “Luc! I’m so glad you came back when you did,” she said in a breathless, pained whisper. Lucifer felt a tightness swell in his throat. He wasn’t certain if it would be better, or worse for her to be moved, but, as he would have to move her in any case, he scooped her into his arms again, holding her against his chest as the sound of the skimmer’s engines filled his ears. Sandra appeared beside him as he lifted her and straightened. “Hold still!” she said testily as he turned with Nicole. He glanced down at her, wincing as she pressed her hand against his wound. “It went through,” she added, moving to press another self-adhering bandage to his belly, “but maybe these will keep you from running out of hydraulic fluid before we get where ever we’re going.” He looked at her uncomprehendingly. “Blood, General,” she said dryly. He studied her face, flicking his gaze over her after a moment. “You were not hurt?” She grimaced. “Discounting about a hundred bruises and being scared shitless? No, but thanks for asking.” When the skimmer settled close by, he strode quickly toward it and, when the doors

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opened, climbed into the rear with Nicky. Sandra clambered into the front, settling beside Azael. “You fit to fly?” Lucifer asked brusquely. “Aye, Sir,” Azael responded. He paused. “Is she …?” “If she dies,” Lucifer ground out in a cold, deadly voice, “you won’t be far behind her.” Sandra whirled around in her seat to gape at him. “It was an accident! He was trying to save her!” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed on her. Sandra gulped, but after glancing at Azael’s stony profile, she returned Lucifer’s baleful glare with an angry one of her own. “Nicky wouldn’t blame him. She’s my friend, and I don’t blame him! He was trying to help. It won’t help Nicky to make him feel worse than he already does!” Lucifer glared at her a moment longer but said nothing else, transferring his attention to Nicky. He discovered she was looking at him. “Am I dying?” Lucifer swallowed against the hard knot that wedged in his throat, mentally kicking himself. “No.” “You said ….” He settled a palm on her cheek, stroking it gently. “Try to rest. We will have someone to tend the wound when we get to headquarters.” He glanced at the back of Azael’s head for confirmation. “I reached headquarters. They said they would have someone standing ready when we arrived.” Relieved, promising himself he would kill Azael on the spot if he’d only said it for Nicky’s benefit, he settled more comfortably in his seat, shifting Nicky so that she was lying more against his chest to ease the strain in his arms. It occurred to him that she might be more comfortable if he lay her across the seats. He certainly would be. His arms were beginning to feel the battle. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Her skin felt cool to his touch, and he couldn’t decide if it was natural to her or if it was from the blood she’d lost or the shock of her injury. He felt a faint tremor in her, though, and thought she needed the warmth he could give her. He thought she dozed. He wasn’t certain, and the uncertainty ate at him. It took an effort to resist the urge to shake her awake to make sure she was only sleeping. Instead, he stroked her slowly, partly to soothe her, partly to warm her in hopes that the tremors would stop, but mostly to comfort himself. He lifted her hand after a moment, studying the small, pale member engulfed in his broader hand. It was bruised and scratched and filled with splinters from the club the bastards had ripped from her hands. He lifted it, brushing his lips lightly over the wounds. A sound from the front of the vehicle drew his gaze, and he looked up to discover Sandra had twisted around in the seat to look back at them. Discomfited at being caught fondling her hand, he looked away, lowering her hand to rest on her stomach. “How is she?” He shook his head. “Resting.” He hoped. “Alright,” Nicole murmured. His chest tightened when she spoke. Relief surged through him, but he felt uncomfortable heat invade his face, as well, wondering if she’d been aware of what he was doing. He wasn’t certain he had been, wasn’t even sure what had prompted him to do it beyond remorse that he’d dragged her into this mess.

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“What is our estimated arrival time?” Azael studied his instrumental panel. “Barring another incident like we had on the way out, another thirty minutes, Sir.” Sandra turned to study him when he spoke. Noticing he had several wounds still bleeding sluggishly, she dug in the med-kit she still held and dragged out several self-adhering bandages. He flicked an annoyed gaze at her when she got up in her seat and leaned close enough to apply one to his chest. “That is not necessary,” he said stiffly. “Humor me!” Sandra snapped. “And save the macho bullshit for somebody that’ll be impressed. I’d just as soon you didn’t pass out from blood loss with me in this thing. I don’t have wings!” He sent her a narrow eyed glare, but he didn’t say anything else while she examined him and covered several more wounds. “You’re kinda cute,” she murmured near his ear. “It’s a shame you’re an asshole.” When she settled in her seat again, he cut a sharp glance in her direction before returning his attention to guiding the craft. “Take it up,” Lucifer ordered from the back when the countryside gave way to clusters of homes and they could see tall buildings in the distance, “and let us see if we can drop it in from the top and avoid another incident.” Nodding, Azael pulled on the controls and the skimmer began to climb. Picking up a microphone after a few minutes had passed, he depressed a button on the side. “H.Q., H.Q., this is General Blackhardt’s skimmer. ETA in ten. We’ll be dropping hot. Have a welcoming committee waiting.”

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Chapter Seven Lucifer dropped his head wearily to the back of the chair he was sitting in. He felt like hell. The need to rest was nearly overwhelming, but each time he closed his eyes images flickered through his mind that brought him around again. He’d consented to being examined and stitched up once the surgeon had examined Nicky and given him the preliminary report. She needed surgery. He couldn’t tell how much damage there was until he went in. She was still in surgery when they gave up on trying to convince him to allow them to hustle him into a bed for a transfusion. After alternately pacing the floor and sitting in the waiting area for a while, he’d left to take a quick shower and change. They brought her out as he returned, and he caught a quick glimpse of her as they moved her to another room—long enough to assure him she was still alive. The surgeon was cautiously optimistic—his words. The anatomy wasn’t entirely what he was accustomed to, but he didn’t think there was life threatening damage to any of the internal organs. He was ‘reasonably confident’ he’d stopped the bleeding when he’d sutured her. He would’ve felt better if he could’ve given her a transfusion, but since they hadn’t been able to match her blood even with her friend’s, he thought the saline IV would pull her through. Her recovery would no doubt be slower, but she seemed strong and healthy. Lifting his head after a few minutes, Lucifer sat forward in the chair, staring at her face, willing her to wake up. She didn’t stir, and, after a few moments, he picked up her limp hand and cradled it in the palm of his. It was cold. Lifting it to his cheek, he held it there until it leached the heat from his face and ceased to feel as cold. He snatched her hand down guiltily when the door opened, swiveling his head sharply to see who it was that had come in. Sandra glanced from him to Nicky and back again. Trying not to be too obvious, he settled her hand on the bed. “How’s she doing?” He cleared his throat, but his voice was still husky when he spoke. “She has not awakened yet.” Sandra approached the opposite side of the bed and looked down at her. “God! She looks so pale!” Lucifer sent her a searching look and then studied Nicky’s face. “They said my blood wasn’t a match.” Lucifer nodded. “Nor mine.” She sent him a sharp look. “You couldn’t have afforded to give her any anyway. You lost too much yourself. You look like hell, by the way. Why don’t you go rest and let me stay with her awhile?” His lips tightened. “When she awakens.” Sandra nodded, glanced around, and discovered Lucifer was occupying the only chair. “They showed me around the lab. I think I’ll just go ahead and get started with some preliminary studies—just to get up to speed on where they are.”

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Lucifer studied her for a long moment. “You are certain you are up to it?” She sighed. “I’m too wired to rest, if that’s what you’re asking. And we can’t afford to waste time, especially when Nicky’s—not able to help.” She patted Nicky’s hand. “You’ll let me know how she’s doing?” Lucifer nodded. When the door closed behind her, he picked up Nicky’s hand again, idly stroking her fingers. As he lifted it to place a kiss in the center of her palm, her fingers curled lightly along his cheek. He lowered her hand again, glancing sharply at her face as she turned her head restlessly on her pillow. Relief flooded him. Settling her hand on the bed, he stood up and leaned over her as her eyes fluttered open. There was no recognition in her eyes, and it unsettled him. Slowly her eyes focused, however. A frown of confusion drew her brows together. “Where am I?” “Base surgery.” She looked more confused instead of less. “At the base?” “Military headquarters—My base,” he added. She seemed to struggle with it for a few moments more and then give up the effort. “I’m tired,” she said, closing her eyes again. Disappointment flickered through him, but after a moment, he leaned down and brushed his lips lightly across hers. “Then rest.” As bone weary as he was, Lucifer went to the control center when he left Nicole resting. Azael, looking nearly as weary as he felt, was at post. He looked at Lucifer questioningly when he entered. Lucifer shrugged. “She came through the surgery. The surgeon seems to think she will recover.” Relief flickered across Azael’s features. He rubbed a shaking hand over his face. “Thank the gods,” he muttered. Lucifer felt his anger flare but discovered he was too damned tired to do it justice. “Status report?” Azael shook his head. “No reported changes of any significance.” Nodding, Lucifer turned away. “I will be in my quarters. Alert me if anything needs my attention.” As relieved as he was when he’d entered his quarters and no longer felt it necessary to maintain his military posture, Lucifer paused on the threshold and looked around the neat, spartanly furnished room feeling no sense of welcome and no particular gladness to be there. In point of fact, the room was so reminiscent of the cell he’d occupied on Earth that it made him feel vaguely ill. Wondering how he could have occupied the same quarters for years without once considering that it was little more than a prison cell, he glanced at the chest that held his liquor speculatively. He was about ready to collapse as it was, though, and knew moreover that he might be called upon at any time and would need his wits about him. Dismissing the brief temptation for a drink, he moved to his bunk and dropped down on it. When he’d removed his boots, his weapons, and the harnesses that carried them, he fell back against the bunk with a deep sigh. He hadn’t allowed himself a lot of room for thought since he’d returned for Nicky and discovered her under attack, but he discovered he was both too weary, and too wary, to try to sort his thoughts at the moment and closed his eyes, seeking the rest he’d denied himself. A sharp rap on the panel of his door woke him some time later. Still reeling with fatigue, he pushed himself upright. “Come!”

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It was Azael who opened the door and stepped inside. The look on his face brought Lucifer instantly to cold alertness. “What is it?” he asked harshly, dreading the answer, resolutely refusing to acknowledge the thoughts of Nicky that instantly leapt into his mind. “The king is dead.” Lucifer stared at him blankly, his mind struggling to shift gears. “The king? Dead?” Azael nodded sharply. “We just got word. I came straight away with the news.” Lucifer shook his head, trying to grasp the full implications of it. “He was young— strong. The plague?” “Aye. He was taken with it two days ago.” “By the gods!” Lucifer jolted to his feet. “The heir?” Azael turned paler if possible. “There is no heir, Sir. He died of the plague while you were gone.” Lucifer stared at him blankly, completely unable to grasp, for several moments, that there no longer was a head of state in Heillius. Rage filled him that he hadn’t been informed immediately on his return. “You did not think to mention that when I asked for a status report?” Azael’s face turned stony. “Nay, Sir. I have no excuse.” Lucifer’s lips tightened. He scrubbed a hand over his face as if by doing so he could clear his mind of the chaos. “Pull the troops in,” he said abruptly. “All of them.” Azael looked shaken. “The rioting, Sir?” “Pull them in!” Lucifer roared. “This installation has to be protected at all costs!” “Aye!” Azael acknowledged. Saluting sharply, he turned on his heel and left Lucifer’s quarters at a dead run. When Azael had left, Lucifer crossed to the door of his private bath to shower and shave and give himself a few minutes to collect his thoughts. The shower served to clear the lingering sluggishness of not nearly enough sleep, but it did little to calm the chaos. The monarchy was dead. Disbelief was uppermost in his mind as that thought circled around and around in his mind without moving him any nearer to acceptance. There had never been a time in the history of Heillius when there was no monarch to rule the land. Trying to shake the feeling that the war was lost, that there was no battle yet to win, he simply stood in the center of his quarters for a time, staring at nothing in particular and finally moved to the chest that held his belongings. Removing his battle garb, he donned it piece by piece and then strapped the harnesses on that held his weapons--a pair of laser pistols, his long sword for close encounters, and his knife for closer. The first order of business, he told himself, was to secure the installation. The whole country would be in an uproar once the news was out. He couldn’t protect the citizens from themselves or the plague. All he could do was try to hold the fortress and secure the scientists working on the treatment. The gods help them all. **** Azael looked disconcerted when Sandra opened the door. It irritated her, and she made no attempt to hide it. “You wanted something?” she asked ungraciously. He lifted his head, his gaze flickering to the woman sitting up in bed behind her. Uttering a gusty sigh, Sandra stepped back and gestured him inside. Nodding, he moved past her and crossed the room, bowing slightly at Nicole as she looked up at him questioningly. “Major Azael Dartfort at your service, Mistress Nicole. I came to see how you were faring.”

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Nicole smiled at him, lifting her hand and offering it. “My rescuer. Sandra’s been telling me all about you,” she commented, flicking an amused glance at Sandra’s glowering face before she returned her attention to the handsome officer again. His face darkened. He took her hand and, to her surprise, instead of shaking it, brought it to his lips for a light salute. “A clumsy one,” he returned, “with poor judgment and poorer aim. I can not even claim the heat of battle as an excuse. There were no more than three that challenged me.” Nicole lifted her brows in surprise. “I’m not inclined to complain,” she said wryly. “I was never more glad of anything in my life than to see you and Luc arrive when you did.” He looked uncomfortable. “You are gracious to forgive me. Earlier would have been better.” She smiled. “I’m not going to argue with that, but I don’t even want to think about what might have happened if you’d been later,” she added, her smile wavering at the thought. “I’m glad to be alive and ….” She broke off. She’d had nightmares about the attack. It didn’t matter that she’d been so terrified at the time that her perceptions had left huge gaps in her memory of it. She remembered enough—too much. He nodded. “It was a poor reception considering your sacrifice in coming to offer aid.” Nicole couldn’t prevent a blush. She flicked an uncomfortable glance at Sandra. “I’d actually like to put it behind me and get to work, but I can’t seem to convince Sandra or the doctor that I’m up to it.” “I understand that it must chafe—it distresses me to be the cause of it—but a few more days to recover would be time better spent than to risk your health needlessly.” She couldn’t think of a response to that. Sandra hadn’t told her much, but she didn’t think they had a lot time to waste. The room where they’d placed her had no windows so she couldn’t see outside, but she’d heard enough to suspect that the situation they were in was not a good one and the attack on her and Sandra not an isolated incident. They seemed to be in the middle of a war zone, and the only explanation for that that she could think of was that order had broken down and panic reigned. She supposed that was why she hadn’t seen anything of Luc. Sandra had told her he was a general and seemed to be in charge of what was left of Heillius’ military. No doubt he had his hands full, and she was still disappointed that she hadn’t even had the chance to thank him for saving her and Sandra. She had a dim memory that he’d been in to see her at least once, but she wasn’t certain if it was a true memory or the effects of the drugs she’d been given combined with wishful thinking. Sandra had said he’d stayed with her until she’d woken after the surgery, and she wondered if that was what she was remembering and he hadn’t actually been back since. “She needs to rest,” Sandra said pointedly, interrupting her thoughts. “The doctor said if she keeps improving like she has been, she should be ready for light duties in a few more days.” Nicole didn’t particularly want to rest, but she saw that the major was uncomfortable so she merely smiled and thanked them for coming. Sandra did her best to out walk the major as they left Nicole’s room, but she realized fairly quickly that his long legs trumped her determination. “Did you want something?” she demanded testily, turning to face him when she’d reached the door of the quarters that had been assigned to her. He studied her face speculatively, flicked a glance up and down the corridor, and then

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grasped her door knob, shoving the door open and dragging her inside with the grip of one hand on her arm at the same time. “Hey!” Sandra snapped. “Exactly what do you think you’re …?” He cut her off by shoving her back against the wall and covering her mouth with his. Surprise held her transfixed, and then the heat of his mouth completed her downfall. Dimly, she realized he’d used the chemical on her they used to subdue their women. If she’d been in any condition to do so, she would’ve told him it was completely unnecessary. The man annoyed the hell out of her, especially since it seemed to her that he was far more interested in Nicole than her, but she certainly wasn’t averse to enjoying a little recreational sex with him. It occurred to her, though, as he scooped her into his arms and carried her to her bed, that it was actually rather convenient that he had. Now she could thoroughly enjoy it without having to admit to him that she’d been dying for him to do exactly what he was doing. He didn’t undress her, or undress himself, for that matter, seeming too anxious to possess her to spare the time, but that only added to the excitement pounding through her and, unlike Luc, as anxious as he seemed to be, he took the time to thoroughly explore her body before he entered her. She thought she could’ve come in that moment, except he deprived her of it— somehow—with his kiss. She felt the mellowing effect of the drugs that entered her system that seemed to keep her hovering just shy of release and frustration mingled with her excitement. Within a few minutes, she began to feel as if she was on fire. She groaned, thrashing beneath him, struggling to reach culmination. He seemed bent on torturing her endlessly by holding it out of her reach until she was nearly weeping with the need and frustration pounding at her. “Azael! Please!” she pleaded with him. “Please what, princess?” he murmured in a husky voice. She licked her lips, reluctance filtering through her to pander to his ego by begging him again. “Stop,” she said finally, perversely. “Is that what you want?” She was going to kill him if he stopped! Her frustration emerged as a whimper followed by a groan of distress as he eased his cock almost all the way out of her channel. She curled her fingers into his arms like claws. “Stop teasing me,” she mumbled. He slid into her sheath again, the nubs along his cock sending shocks waves of exquisite sensation pouring through her. She was close, so close! She tried to evade his mouth as he leaned down to kiss her once more. He wouldn’t allow it. Capturing her face with one hand, he kissed her again. She groaned despairingly, feeling her climax elude her. The fire climbed inside of her until she felt as if she was burning up with fever. She panted for breath, unable to fulfill her need for air, feeling as if she would faint from the overload of her senses, but when he withdrew from her completely and turned his attention to caressing her body with his lips and hands again, she felt like weeping. Hopefulness suffused her when he entered her again, began to pump into her at a pace she knew would give her release. He snatched it from her just as her body quavered on the brink. She fought him, briefly, but it was a lost cause. Feeling as if she was caught in a delirium of need, she wavered between begging him and cursing him, demanding and pleading. After a time, all she could do was whisper his name hoarsely and plead with him. As if that was what he’d been waiting for, he paced his strokes more purposefully. The climax that hit her felt like a bomb going off inside of her, shattering her

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into a million pieces. It tore a scream from her and then consciousness so that she was scarcely even aware of the shudders that told her he’d reached his own climax. He was staring down at her when she finally swam upwards through the mists and managed to pry her eyes open. “That was so that you know who you belong to, woman,” he said with grim satisfaction. Resentment instantly replaced the sense of mellow euphoria of moments before. What happened to courting? And where the hell did he get off just dragging her into her bed and laying claim like he’d staked off a piece of territory? “I’m Luc’s woman,” she lied without hesitation or any compunction, just to wipe the smug look off his face. She knew damned well she wasn’t, never had been, either in his mind or her own, but she wasn’t about to let any man tell her who she belonged to. His eyes narrowed. “Not anymore,” he said tightly. Dismay was uppermost in her mind when he proceeded to prove his point in their battle of wills. She didn’t even know when he left her at last. She was dead to the world. **** As bone weary as he was from days of battling the mob and nights of little or no sleep, Luc felt a deep hunger stir inside of him as he paused in the doorway of the lab to study Nicky. The need, the desperation seemed to have been his constant companion since he’d first seen her. He certainly couldn’t recall a time when the hunger hadn’t gnawed at him, tormenting him, refusing to be ignored for all that he had no opportunity to appease it and every reason to question it on a conscious level. His body didn’t care that she didn’t want him. It craved hers. It demanded her for his mate. There was no ignoring nature’s call by trying to argue with it, no disputing the claim with any attempt at reason. The irony of his situation was not lost on him. He had traveled to Earth to warn the people of the danger and ask for their help in preserving his own world and had not found what he sought. Instead, he had found the soul mate that he had not sought, had never expected to find. His heart and soul and body had known it immediately. It had taken his head a little longer to grasp it. He thought he might have continued trying to ignore it if not for the fact that he’d been forced to see it—to feel the terrible fear of impending loss—when he’d nearly lost her. He was tired of waiting, he realized, tired of hoping she would look at him and really see him, and want what she saw, sick of wanting without having. It didn’t matter that the whole gods be damned world was falling apart and any sane person would realize the time for his species had come and gone, that even considering mating was a blasphemy. Maybe that was even part of the sense of desperation that permeated him soul deep? And maybe not. He didn’t know or care any more. He needed it more than he’d ever needed anything in his life, to cleanse his soul of the sickness of dealing out death and dealing with death every hour of every day. He hadn’t wanted it like this. He’d thought—hoped—believed that he could woo her to him without using the mating drug. Somehow it had seemed vitally important to do so. He should have known better. He supposed he had, because he had had to fight the urge just to take, to conquer as his ancestors had forever. Their own women had never yielded. Even when they were approached by a male that interested them they refused to simply allow themselves to be claimed. A male had to prove himself capable not only of taking her, but holding her enthralled by his

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pheromones. Conquest was the way of their race and to mate had required it. He’d never won what he’d wanted from his woman, Cara, though, and after a time he hadn’t even sought it anymore. He’d accepted that she was never going to give him more than tolerance, that every attempt at mating was going to be another battle. And Lucien, the only being he had ever given or received affection from, hated him because of his indifference toward his mother, because he hadn’t even attempted to return when she died. She wouldn’t have welcomed him standing over her deathbed, though, regardless of what Lucien thought. If he had been the lover she had wanted—yes, but not him. Cara had lost the power to wound him long before she died, though, except through his son. He thrust the thoughts aside and moved purposely toward Nicky when she finally acknowledged his presence and lifted her head to look at him. **** A goodly half of the scientists who’d been struggling to find the elusive cure to the disease that was decimating Nadryl had fallen victim to it, and the lab was so quiet that, despite her preoccupation, Nicole sensed the presence at the door. She’d thought it must be Sandra returning, though, until whoever it was remained standing in the door way. Finally, that penetrated her consciousness enough to shift her focus from the slides she’d been examining to the intruder in her lab. A mixture of emotions hit her in a barrage when she saw it was Luc. Doubt warred with gladness. She hadn’t seen him except at a distance since she’d woken from her surgery. Relief flooded her, too, when she saw that he wasn’t showing any signs of sickening as so many were. He looked exhausted, tense, but he didn’t have the fine sheen of sweat gleaming on him that was one of the first signs. There was no blanching of his healthy color. The doubt deepened, though, when she noted the purposefulness of his stride, the grim set of his jaw, the glittering determination in his eyes. She didn’t try to flee, didn’t even consider it because her mind, grappling with those signs, didn’t produce the warning it should have before he reached her. A jolt went through her when he caught her shoulders and dragged her up against his length. She tipped her head back to look up at him, her lips parting in surprise that he took instant advantage of. Another shockwave went through her as his lips settled firmly over hers, and then a faint flicker of warning—too late—as the lethargy she remembered from the time when he’d captured her began to seep through her. Weakness invaded her, making her slump limply into his embrace. By the time he lifted his lips from hers she could no longer support her head without help. It would’ve lolled limply on the column of her neck if he hadn’t held her. He studied her eyes for a moment and then shifted to lift her into his arms. She leaned her head weakly against his shoulder, struggling with the urge to give in and not fight the drug. In the back of her mind, she’d known his threat hadn’t been an idle one, that he’d intended it all the time—regardless of the circumstances—to make her regret her part in his degradation. She’d convinced herself, though, that the situation had changed, that he’d changed his mind. He hadn’t really wanted her. He’d just resented her rejection of him, been angered that his attempts to use her to achieve his freedom had failed. It had wounded his ego, challenged his manhood, but he wasn’t the sort of man to be deeply disturbed by her refusal to succumb. In this time, he’d put it behind him. Obviously, she’d been wrong on all counts.

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She struggled to summon the will to resist as he settled her on a bed. She had no idea where she was, only a vague realization that he’d taken her to this place without hesitation, as if it was completely familiar to him or he had planned it. Which she supposed he had. Straightening away from her, he removed the accoutrements of his rank, his weapons, the strangely barbaric ‘uniform’ his people wore. He seemed in no particular rush, and yet there was a sense of urgency in his movements simply because he merely dropped what he removed to the floor without any regard to where it fell. His hands, she saw when he reached to remove her clothing, shook faintly. Her belly clenched when she saw it, adding warmth to the heat that had already begun to invade her as she’d watched him undress, studied the fascinating play of muscles in his arms and belly and chest with his movements. “Luc,” she managed to whisper. “I can’t give in to this—won’t.” His face hardened as he met her gaze. “But you will, Nicky. I told you I could make you beg for me. If you doubted it, you will not before I am done,” he said grimly. A shiver skated through her, but it was more than the cool air that wafted over her as he stripped her naked, leaving her bare to his gaze. Moisture gathered in her sex as he caught her knees, pushing her legs upward until the soles of her feet rested against the mattress. Anticipation gathered inside of her in the form of a delicious tension as he pushed her legs wide and settled on his knees between them, staring down at her with blatant desire, but, despite the tension, she couldn’t seem to command any part of her body. She couldn’t summon the will even to try to hide herself from his gaze. He leaned over her after a moment, supporting himself on one arm as he skimmed his other hand lightly over her body. “You are mine. This is mine,” he said, his voice oddly hoarse as he cupped her breast, stroked his fingers over first one nipple and then the other until both were tight and aching with the blood engorging them before he trailed his fingers downward and tangled them in the curls at the juncture of her thighs. He met her gaze after a prolonged moment. Settling lower, he captured her face between his palms. “You will know in your mind that you belong to me because your body will not allow you to deny it.” As his words wafted over her, coiled tightly inside of her, fear struggled to throw off the heat and need already churning in her, the anxiety that he knew exactly what he was talking about and she would be helpless against his conquest. She couldn’t belong to him. As much as she wanted him at that moment, an equal opposing force fought it for freedom of her soul. She didn’t belong here, couldn’t stay, and couldn’t imagine the torment her life would be to her if what he said was true, that he could bind her so tightly to him that she would never break free. She lost the thread of her thoughts and the will to struggle as his mouth covered hers again. This time it was different than before. The weakness invaded her, but so, too, did a churning heat. Her body came alive to sensations her dulled senses had shielded her from before.

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Chapter Eight Despite the coolness of her pale skin, her mouth was warm, welcoming. The taste of her, the slick, moist skin inside her mouth, the daintiness of her tongue, made him dizzy enough it flickered through Luc’s mind to wonder if she had seductive enzymes of her own. He dismissed the thought at once, though, knowing everything she had done to him to make him want her was unconscious on her part, unintentional. He couldn’t accuse her of seducing him with premeditation—as much as he would’ve liked to think she’d been interested enough in him to try. It took a conscious effort to part from her mouth once he’d begun kissing her, to tamp his own raging need to satisfy his hunger quickly. It was only the reflection that he would ultimately fail by doing so that gave him the will to part from her to allow himself to cool, to regain control. Lifting his head, he eased away from her to study her face. Satisfied with what he saw there, he shifted to the bed beside her to fill his eyes with the rest of her, to familiarize himself with all of her. Her skin was fragile, he thought absently as he trailed his fingers lightly over the pale tracery of veins just beneath the pale skin of her breasts. It pleased him and at the same time disturbed him on another level. Brushing the thought aside, he stroked the round pink tips of her breasts and the tight little buds that jutted from the centers of them. She moved restlessly at his curious exploration, and he flicked a glance at her face, watching the pleasure skim her features as he plucked at first one and then the other. Leaning over after a moment he cupped one breast in his hand and plucked at the tip of the other with his lips, listening to her soft intakes of breath, feeling his pleasure in her mount at her response to his touch. Wondering if their women would have such a response, he took the hard tip into his mouth finally and sucked it. She arched her back, lifting to him, and he felt his heart hammer a little harder in his chest. He released the tip after a moment, lifted his head to study her face, and moved to the other breast, teasing it with his mouth and tongue as he had the first. He could sense the rise of her passions, feel it in her restless shifting, hear it in her gasping breaths, and it intrigued him that his exploration of her body had such an effect on her as much as it excited him. Enjoying the texture of her skin against his lips, the taste of her, aroused by it, he continued his foray after a few moments, working his way up her throat and down again to her breast, and then lower still, across her belly. He paused there, lifting his head to examine her sex, stroking the curling hair on her mound and finally parting the delicate lips of her sex to study the darker pink petals of flesh concealed by the outer lips. The longer he studied them, the deeper his thirst to taste, and, finally, he yielded to the urge, slipping down to explore the taste and texture of her sex with his mouth. Her reaction startled him. She gasped in a sharp breath and stiffened all over as if she was about to come. He paused, lifted his head, debating whether he wanted her to or not. It occurred him, though, that she reacted as well to his enzymes as one of their own women. He needn’t yield anything by exploring her human sexuality to the fullest. Lowering his head once more, he teased the tender flesh as he had the peaks of her

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breasts. She thrashed beneath him, gasping for breath, clutching at his hair, holding him tightly to her one moment and trying to thrust him away the next. He refused to be dissuaded, teasing and sucking at the fragile flesh until, abruptly, she stiffened and began to groan as if she was dying, shaking all over as she climaxed. He stopped when the tremors began to subside, crawling over her until he could stare down at her face. A strange sense of triumph filtered through him as he studied her face and realized that he’d made her come without the enzymes. With nothing more than his touch, he’d brought her to culmination. It ebbed with the realization that pleasuring her alone wasn’t enough to make her his. It was only by the infusion of his unique chemicals that he could addict her to him, and he had no intention of settling for anything less now that he finally had her. He nuzzled her neck, absorbing the scent of her flesh mingling with the scent of her spent passion, relishing it for several moments as he brought his body back under his control, and then he kissed her, summoning her desires again. **** Reeling in the aftermath of her climax, Nicole welcomed the caress of Luc’s mouth before it filtered into her fried brain that his kiss was no ordinary kiss. But the realization didn’t hit her until she felt the heat rise in her again, and by then it was far too late to consider evasion or rebellion. Waves of heat rolled through her as she absorbed the taste and feel of his mouth on hers, inhaled his dizzying essence. By the time he lifted his mouth from hers she was as desperate with need as she had been before, as if she hadn’t tasted release—ever. She opened her eyes with an effort as she felt him lift away from her, stared down at him as he positioned himself to enter her. A flicker of fear, quickly doused, went through her as she stared at his cock and the thought rushed through her to wonder what he would feel like inside of her and then he was filling her, stretching the mouth of her sex as he pressed into her. She sucked in a sharp breath, holding it, waiting with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as he slipped shallowly in and out, coating himself with her liquid desire. He settled above her again after a moment, staring at her face as he curled his hips to press more deeply. The sensation, the taut set of his features with his own desires, magnified the heat until it seemed to bounce from her to him and back again like the blast of a furnace. She panted as he slowly sank deeper, gasped for breath. He reached between them when he’d buried himself as deeply inside of her as he could get, guiding that alien part himself to her clit. A sharp gasp escaped her as she felt it pluck at her clit, settling over it with the firm adhesion of a mouth. Exquisite jolts went through her as he pulled as slowly from her as he’d entered, and she felt the delicious scrubbing of the nubs of his cock along the walls of her sex, felt the gentle tug of his anterior cock on her clit. Her body skyrocketed toward release as he delved inside of her again and withdrew once more. She groaned, bucked against him. He ignored her frantic efforts to push him into increasing his pace. Instead of giving her what she wanted, desperately needed, he leaned down to kiss her again and as his drugging essence flooded her bloodstream she felt a leavening that halted her upward spiral toward release. At the same time, it held her, prevented her from descending either. Her mind became fevered with the need, fuddled with the heated mist that suffused it. She couldn’t think at all, could do nothing but feel sensations so intense she began to feel as if she was on fire all over. She had no conception of how much time had passed before she reached the point where she knew she couldn’t take it any more and began to beg him hoarsely to

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make it stop, to give her the release she needed. **** It was only grim determination to achieve his goal that held Luc’s desires in check. From the moment he merged his body with Nicky’s he found himself fighting a losing battle in the war to come at once and the need to make her his. Reason would no more than gain the upper hand than his instincts would subvert it, coaxing him with the promise that he could spill his seed and try again. Pausing to kiss her did little to cool the heated fog in his mind, though he was dimly aware that it should have—ordinarily would have. He began to realize after a time why he had to fight his instincts so hard—beyond the fact that he’d waited so long for her, far longer than he’d ever waited for any other woman he’d wanted—which made it difficult enough to pace himself. She was ripe for him. He could taste it in her essence each time he kissed her, the sweet liquor of her fertility and the lure of it was far more potent than the merging of their chemicals that was releasing endorphins in his brain. The moment that coalesced in his mind he was lost. The urge to merely mark her was instantly overshadowed by the urge to mate, the certainty that his seed would find fertile ground. He paused. Dragging in a harsh breath, he tried to fight off the red haze in his mind to think and realized it was useless. The ability to reason was beyond him in that moment. Shuddering, he summoned the strength to hold off a few moments longer and quickened his pace to give her the release he finally realized she’d been begging for until she’d begun to weep quietly. The moment he felt her stiffen, heard her gasping cries, felt her sex began to quake around him, however, he lost even that much control. His belly tightened so hard as it convulsed to pump his seed into her that it forced a choked grunt from him. He groaned as his body convulsed again, curling tightly around her, grinding his teeth as he was swept up in the pain/pleasure of release. Euphoria filled him as he struggled to catch his breath and calm his heart to a more natural, less frantic rhythm, a sense of triumph. He’d bound her to him beyond the chemical dependency of desire. **** A hard shove woke Lucifer from a deep sleep. His eyes snapped open. Fortunately for both of them, his brain registered recognition before he had time to react by doing more than rolling over Nicole and pinning her beneath him. She glared him. He registered the expression with bemusement and a touch of uneasiness. “Satisfied now?” she hissed. Pleasure rippled through him as memories instantly arose in his mind. “Infinitely.” Her eyes narrowed. “Then … get …off!” she enunciated through gritted teeth. He lifted his dark brows at her, but his own anger flared. “Why?” “Because I happened to be in the middle of something damned important when you … did that to me. And now that you’re done, and you’re satisfied we’re even, I’m going back.” His lips tightened, but there lingered just enough lethargy in his mind from sleep depravation to make it difficult to follow her diatribe. “You have been in the lab all day. It will help no one if you drop from exhaustion. Go back to sleep.” “I wasn’t asleep,” she retorted angrily. “I was … unconscious, and you did that!” He couldn’t prevent his lips from curling with satisfaction, but he could see immediately

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that she didn’t appreciate the sentiment. “I did nothing beyond pleasure you. You fell asleep.” “You gloried in that, didn’t you?” The tone didn’t entirely match the sentiment as far as he could see. There was a definite note of accusation in the comment. “I am missing something of vital importance here, I believe. Exactly what is it that you are accusing me of?” “Your … vendetta! I hope you’re happy!” “You do not sound as if you do,” he said dryly. “What vendetta?” “Don’t pretend, now, that you don’t remember all those horrible things you threatened to do to me if you ever got loose!” Lucifer cast his mind back with an effort, but beyond promising her that he would give her so much pleasure that she would beg for release, he couldn’t recall anything he’d ‘threatened’. Obviously, that was the ‘horrible’ thing he’d threatened her with. “It was not so bad as that,” he said indignantly. “You enjoyed it.” “Because I couldn’t help it! It’s that … thing you can do!” “It is not a ‘thing’ I can do!” he snapped angrily. “It is my desire for you that makes it happen.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not falling for that one! You did it with Sandra, too. I was watching, remember?” “I know you were watching! It was because you were watching that I could do it! And if you would only think, you would know that it was still not the same. She did not beg me to give her release because I could not give her what I gave you. It is my reaction to you that causes it.” He could tell from the look on her face that she didn’t believe a word he’d said. “Get off!” she snapped. He released her and rolled off, more because he could see hurt in her eyes than because of the anger. She rolled off the bed the moment he let her go. “It is the pull of mates,” he tried again. She sent him a white faced look of horror and began grabbing her clothes up and pulling them on jerkily. The look stilled everything inside of him. She’d reached the door before sensation returned to him and with it pain. Anger followed on the heels of the pain. “You felt it,” he ground out. “I’m not going to discuss this with you,” she said tightly. “You got what you wanted. It wasn’t my fault what they did to you! But you blamed me, and now you can consider us even.” “We are not ‘even’, not by a long shot!” he growled, bounding out of the bed as she snatched the door open and darted through it. She was halfway down the corridor by the time he had grabbed his loincloth and reached the door. He stood in the doorway, holding his cloth in his hands, debating whether or not to go after her. Sandra, he discovered after a few moments, was leaning against the corridor wall, her arms folded over her chest, a speculative look in her eyes. “I see you finally managed to tap that thing,” she murmured. Lucifer glared at her, relieved to have a target for his rage. “I took her as my mate,” he snarled. “Do not denigrate what happened between us by referring to it as ‘tapping that thing’. Her brows rose, but her temper did also. “Didn’t look to me like she noticed the difference.” The comment jacked his rage up a couple of notches. “Guess you forgot to give her those three little words.”

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That gave him pause. He stared at her uncomprehendingly. “What three little words?” “That answered that question,” she said dryly. Lucifer ground his teeth. “What … three … words?” he snarled. “I’ll give you a hint. The middle word starts with an ‘L’.” Realizing she was only trying to antagonize him, he sent her a look of disgust. “I mated with her,” he ground out. “I gave her my son.” Her jaw dropped. Her color fluctuated. “Oh no you did not!” A sense of uneasiness settled in him. “I did.” She stared at him in disbelief, coming away from the wall. “You are not serious? You didn’t use birth control? You didn’t pull out? Nothing?” He couldn’t quite decide what to make of her reaction. He knew it was wrong to want it, much less to do it. He’d known that when he did it, that it was insane to consider begetting life when death was all around them, but he’d needed to feel that there would be a future for them. If they didn’t make it—if she didn’t, the child would never know, never be born. The chances were better than even that it would die in her womb little more than the seed he’d given her, but he found he couldn’t bear to think of that. “That is what is generally considered mating,” he said stiffly. She stared at him angrily. “So—you’re saying you don’t actually love her? You just felt this compulsion to fuck up her life? It’s against the law where we’re from to have an unlicensed pregnancy! Ten thousand credits and up to ten years imprisonment! I thought you cared something about her or I would’ve made damned sure you didn’t get the chance to get hold of her!” She turned to stalk off but as stunned as he was by the bomb she’d dropped in his lap, he wasn’t about to let her walk off without explaining it to him. He caught up to her, grabbed her arm, and hauled her into his quarters with him. “Explain this law to me,” he ground out. “I already did. On our world we have strict birth control laws to preserve the balance of nature and control population growth. We’re overpopulated. Everyone lives longer now so something had to be done to prevent us from reaching a point where everybody was starving. “They started out by just pelting everyone with ‘don’t do it, everyone will suffer’. It slowed things down, but there were still too many babies so they passed a law requiring that people apply for a license, and they were giving out damned few of them. So people started ‘cheating’ and the government countered by passing a law that made it a criminal offense. “What this means is that, if you actually did manage to get Nicky pregnant, she can’t go home. I’m not sure I believe you’d know it if you did, or if you just know you tried, but it could happen. Nicky told me herself she wasn’t taking anything—that’s the main reason she wouldn’t let you talk her into messing around before. “And that’s probably the main reason she’s so totally pissed off right now, because she’s scared.” “It will not matter. She is my mate. She will stay with me.” Sandra gaped at him for a long moment. “Either you’ve got the fever—or Nicky’s totally fucked up your mind! You can’t be seriously considering trying to keep her here? Why would you want to if you cared anything at all about her?” “This will pass,” Lucifer ground out angrily, trying to convince himself it would. “You and she will find a cure, or it will simply play itself out, and then we will begin to rebuild.” Sandra gave him a doubtful look that made him feel vaguely ill. “Just don’t get my

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girlfriend pregnant!” she said tightly. “If we can find something to knock this bug out, we will. But then we’re going home.” **** Lucifer stood on the roof top of the main administration building where they had landed when he had brought Nicky into the compound for surgery. The sun, he saw, had begun to creep up to the horizon and soon dawn would break over Heillius and reveal the ugliness that night had shrouded. Smoke lay heavily on the air. Mixed liberally with the smell of it was the stench of burning bodies. He’d become so accustomed to the smell, he wondered why he even noticed it anymore. He’d been trying for hours not to think about what he’d done and succeeded after a fashion. The roof top was the perfect place to come if one wanted to forget one’s personal tragedies because the view was enough to make it impossible to think or feel anything beyond the horror of watching an entire nation and its people sink into nothingness. The fires that had dotted the landscape and lit up the night sky, he saw, were beginning to die even as the light of approaching dawn spilled over the horizon to take its place. The world was still—silent. Even the mobs that had milled in the streets had finally dispersed on their own—overtaken by death, no doubt. The city, once the pride of Heillius, their gem city, was a shambles. The palace had been burned to the ground. The hall where the Heillius council had once convened was gutted, the hall of justice deserted. There was no government, no king to lead them, few people left to lead if there’d been one. Why, he wondered, had he allowed himself to believe, even for a moment, that there would be a future? Because he loved Nicky. And because he did, and that had kept his hope alive, he’d destroyed her world, too. He would have to tell her. The thought made his stomach churn, because he knew the only way she could save herself from what he’d done would be to destroy the child he’d given her. She would have good reason to hate him now. It occurred to him that Sandra might tell her. It had occurred to him as soon as she’d explained the situation to him. He more than half hoped she would to save him from having to face it. He’d never thought he was a coward, but he didn’t want to have to face the look in Nicky’s eyes when she found out what he’d done. He’d tried for a while to think of someway he could tell her where she’d allow him to explain, first, that he hadn’t done it for revenge, or to hurt her, but he didn’t think it would matter much to her. There was no getting around the fact that he’d intended to use it to bind her to him, to trap her so that she wouldn’t leave him. He hadn’t known about the laws of her land, but he had known that he was trapping her in a world that no longer had anything to offer. And that he had nothing to offer. Somehow, he thought wryly, he didn’t think even if he’d had his wits about him and told her he loved her that it would have made it alright. It was better that he hadn’t, he realized. Aside from the salve to pride—and he didn’t have a hell of a lot left beyond that—telling her wouldn’t accomplish a damned thing except,

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maybe, giving her more to regret. She would have enough as it was. The sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs leading up to the roof distracted him from his musings. Despite the fact that it was almost certainly more bad news, he almost welcomed it. Turning away from the view beyond the fort, he looked to see who had come in search of him. Azael appeared in the open doorway. He glanced around, spied him near the wall, and hurried toward him. “General Blackhardt! They have done it, Sir!” Lucifer stared at him uncomprehendingly. “They have done what?” “They have found the serum they were seeking! At least a dozen of the plague victims they were treating are showing definite signs of recovery!”

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Chapter Nine Lucifer suspected the moment Nicky met his gaze that Sandra had told her what he’d done. The look of betrayal on her face cut him to the quick, angered him, and yet relief went through him, as well. He would have to confess to what he’d done anyway, to be certain that she knew, but if Sandra had told her then she would’ve had time, he thought, in the past few weeks to come to grips with it. Girding himself, he approached her, threading his way carefully between the cots and pallets that filled nearly every square inch of space in the skimmer hanger that they’d converted into a treatment center. She ignored him. He knew damned well she was aware that he’d approached her, but she was busy pretending she wasn’t. “We need to talk.” She didn’t lift her head. “I’m busy—General.” He felt his face heat with both anger and embarrassment at the rebuff. “We have something to discuss that I am reasonably certain you would not want aired in public, but if you insist upon it we can talk about it here.” Her lips tightened. “What assurance do I have that you wouldn’t try to take advantage of the situation?” His embarrassment and anger deepened. “I would give you my word, but since I am reasonably certain that you would only throw that in my face—I am agreeable to talking in plain view of everyone if you will only walk a little way with me so that we can not be overheard.” She flicked a glance at him then, but nodded. Summoning a helper to take her place, she allowed him to guide her to the front of the building just beyond the wide hanger doors. He rehearsed the speech he would make as they progressed, and yet when they finally stopped he found himself at a loss as to how to begin the conversation. She refused to meet his gaze. It bothered him, and yet the bright side of it was that it allowed him to study her. He hadn’t approached her since the night he had completely lost his mind and claimed her. He was reasonably certain that he had been successful, that he had prolonged the mating long enough to insure a chemical dependency for him in her because the effect was generally mutual and, this close, he felt the pull of it himself. She had rejected it, though, unequivocally. The conversation he’d had with Sandra afterward had given him a cold dose of reason, in any case, forcing him to face the fact that what he’d done was unconscionable. If not for that, he was fairly certain that he would have pursued it, forcing encounters upon her until she could no longer deny the bond between them. “Your services are no longer needed here,” he said abruptly. She shot him a quick look, which he was aware of, but he’d turned to stare out across the parade ground and didn’t acknowledge it. “Just like that? I’m dismissed?” “For what you and Sandra have done, we are a grateful nation,” he said with stiff formality. “You have done your part—with graciousness considering that you were forced to come here against your will. If the king still lived, I am certain that he would reward both of you

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as you deserve. Since he is not, and we have nothing but gratitude to offer, I give you that—and your freedom. Major Dartfort will escort the two of you back to your own world.” He could see that she was staring at him although he couldn’t read her expression. Relief didn’t seem to be uppermost, however. “But … we’re not done here. There are still hundreds—thousands of people who will need to be inoculated or treated.” He nodded. “This is our problem, however, not yours. I would escort you back myself, but I am reasonably certain you would prefer Major Dartfort’s escort, and, in any case, there is too much that needs to be done here for me to leave. I must oversee the—disposal of the dead and organize medical and military teams to spread out from the capital in search of whatever other survivors can be found who will need to be inoculated or treated.” He paused. When she said nothing else, he struggled with the confession he knew he was duty bound to make and dreaded in the worst way. “I also wanted to tender my deepest apologies for my behavior,” he said in a strangled voice. “It was unconscionable if not criminal given my circumstances and … certainly criminal given yours. I can only say on my behalf that I had no idea that charges would be brought against you if I impregnated you—which I did. And that is also why I thought it best if you returned to your world as soon as possible. There is nothing available here to …. terminate the child I gave you, but Sandra assured me that there was a grace period on your world, and the treatment available that would allow you to protect yourself to avoid charges being brought against you. It has already been several weeks. It would not do for you to linger here when it is best for you to take care of this as soon as possible.” Nicole stared at his taut profile, searching for some indication that it bothered him to suggest she ‘terminate’ the child he thought he’d planted in her womb. She didn’t think he had, or that he would know if he had, but that was beside the point. “Why did you do it?” she asked finally. Instead of looking at her, he turned to scan the plague victims that had overflowed beyond their makeshift hospital onto the tarmac before the hanger and even beyond that. “A moment of insanity, I must suppose,” he said in a strange voice. “It wasn’t … for revenge?” He sent her a sharp look. His face darkened with anger. “You have hell of a gods be damned opinion of me!” he retorted angrily. “Whether you believe it or not, I would not have considered using my son as a tool of revenge. And I did not know about the laws on your world even if I had thought to pick such a thing as that to avenge myself upon you. And, contrary to what you appear to believe, I have not, at any time, felt any need to avenge myself against you.” “When you were in there, you always looked at me as if you hated me,” she said pointedly. “Why wouldn’t I get that idea?” He stared at her for a moment and finally looked away. Maybe he had, at the time, felt as if he hated her most of all, but he had long since accepted that he was only more angry with her because he had wanted her in a way that went beyond desire even then. He had desperately needed the comfort of her touch, not just sexual gratification. Sandra had given him physical release, and it had only served to emphasize what he’d truly needed, and wanted, from Nicole. He’d been angry that she wouldn’t give him even a modicum of comfort when he could see she wanted to, from empathy if not from any personal attachment to him. He supposed that was even part of the reason he’d resented her—that he could see it was from an inner gentleness, a natural inclination in her to nurture, and not a particular interest in him as an individual.

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He gods be damned wasn’t going to spill his guts over that, however. He had made enough of a damned fool of himself already. He had allowed her to trample his pride and wipe her feet on it, but at least she didn’t know he had. It was for gods be damned sure he wasn’t about to tell her. “Look around you,” he ground out. “Things were already so desperate here that I left my post to search for help, handed my command over to my second. Aside from what they did to me trying to get me to ‘talk’, I was half insane with worry about what was happening here, and prevented even from returning. I hated everyone there, hated every moment of what I endured, hated every minute that I was delayed from returning. If it appeared to you that I singled you out, then I apologize for that, as well. “As you pointed out, however, we are even. You and Sandra found the breakthrough we needed.” “Belatedly.” He shrugged. “There is no way to know, now, if you had come sooner if you could have stopped this earlier. The point is, you did stop it, and I have no reason to regret what I endured to get you here or that I abandoned my post to see it done. I am redeemed in my own eyes, and you are redeemed. Neither of us need feel any regrets beyond the fact that our best only prevented complete disaster and it is not the victory either of us hoped for.” He met her gaze for the first time. “You and Sandra have the serum now. You have what you need to protect your own world. There is no doubt that the plague that swept our world is alien in origin. It devastated many worlds before it reached ours—I saw them myself—and, without the serum, it will wipe out life on yours when it reaches it—and it will eventually.” He looked away. “You and Sandra will have your fame and fortune—which you both deserve—and the satisfaction, as well, of knowing that you saved the lives of many here, and will be able to save many more on your world. “You should rest for the journey. I have told Azael to be ready to take you back tomorrow. You will have an armed escort to the gateway.” A salute, he knew, would have been customary in leave taking. Her people shook hands, he’d learned. His own customs, if he had been willing to observe, required that he kiss her hand, but he knew abruptly that he could not do it. He had bonded with her. If he touched her at all, he would not want to stop at a salute to her fingertips. He would want to embrace her, and, if he yielded to that urge he would want to kiss her, and if he kissed her, he would have much more to apologize for. He merely nodded, therefore, and left her, striding away as swiftly as he could without the appearance of running. He had no idea where he was going, but it didn’t matter where so much as it mattered that he put distance between them as quickly as possible. It was some relief to have it over with, but he felt distinctly ill from the emotions roiling in his gut. There was a degree of comfort in knowing that she would be worlds away from him by this time the following day. Nothing was going to completely break the bond he’d forged. He knew that he was always going to ache from it, feel as if he’d had some crucial part of his anatomy amputated—his cock certainly, he thought wryly—but also an emptiness in the region of his heart, but it would be bearable if he didn’t have to look at her from a distance. He had more than enough to occupy his thoughts and every waking moment of his time. He had no sovereign to make decisions for him to bring order out of chaos, would have no guidance from a civilian governing body, but his duty as a soldier was clear to him. He must try to reorganize his army, and, once he had gathered in the strays with the lure of amnesty for extenuating circumstances, he would begin to bring order back to Heillius. It would be a

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tremendous undertaking, he knew, but once he had done that, once the general populace could see that he would hold the peace, then they could choose leaders to govern them. Mayhap they would even be able to find someone of distant kinship to the fallen king to replace their monarch. Wryly, he admitted it wasn’t much of a plan and far too shaky considering the handful of soldiers still under his command, but someone had to begin somewhere. There was still life on Nadryl—in Heillius, at least. He had no idea how the Anjels of Henven had fared, but that wasn’t his problem. **** “General Blackhardt is sending us home,” Nicole told Sandra when she’d located her. “He advised me that you and I should rest for the trip. We’re supposed to leave tomorrow.” Sandra paused in examining the patient she’d been treating and straightened to stare at Nicole blankly. “Just like that? We’re done and we’re getting the boot?” Nicole nodded, wondering why she felt like crying. Maybe it was because she was so happy? Sandra glanced around at their makeshift hospital ward. “It looks to me like they could use everybody they can get,” she said angrily. Nicole studied her toes. “I don’t suppose the two of us will make much difference one way or the other, not any more. They’ve got the serum. He said we should take it back to Earth because it’ll be needed there once the swarm reaches Earth—which he seems to think is inevitable.” Sandra studied her in tightlipped silence for several moments and finally summoned an aid to see about the patient. Nicole followed her as she strode from the hanger. “Where is he?” she demanded once they were outside. Nicole shrugged. “Off trying to save what’s left of his world, I guess.” Sandra glanced at her and then scanned the compound. After a few moments, her shoulders slumped and the tension seemed to flow out of her. “I am so exhausted I can hardly see straight,” she admitted. “I’m too tired to think right now.” Nicole nodded her agreement. “Me, too. I tried to argue with him, but in all honesty I don’t have enough of my wits about me to make a decent argument. Besides, what he said about the swarm made me uneasy,” she added, falling into step beside Sandra as she, after looking around one more time, turned toward the building where they were quartered. “He said he’d been to worlds that had already been hit when he was looking for help.” “There is that,” Sandra said thoughtfully. “He also said that the cure would make us rich and famous.” Sandra glanced at her sharply. Nicole shook her head. “It’s yours. You did the work. I wouldn’t presume to try to claim even part of it.” Sandra blushed. “Girl puhlease! You know damned well I only stumbled on somebody that was producing antibodies. It was not only pure, blind luck, but I didn’t develop the serum at all. I just reproduced the antibodies. Any lab assistant could’ve done that.” “It wasn’t blind luck—ok, luck had a lot to do with it—but you were looking and you found it. That makes you the one that discovered it. I know it isn’t exactly what you expected to get out of this, but it’ll put you on the map, and you deserve it. I honestly don’t think I could handle the ‘fame and fortune’ if I got a chance at it.” Sandra seemed to think that over for a while. She fell silent. “It’s weird, you know, but I can’t find any enthusiasm for it myself.”

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“You’re just too tired now to grasp the implications,” Nicole said soothingly. “Maybe,” Sandra agreed doubtfully. Instead of immediately taking her leave once they reached Nicole’s quarters, Sandra lingered. “God! I am so looking forward to getting a hot bath again! Not that I’m complaining, mind you. All things considered, I’m sure we’re lucky they managed even to have running water here.” Nicole had to agree, but she didn’t see the need to second it. “What else did you two talk about?” Nicole shrugged, unwilling to share the rest of their discussion. “I didn’t really talk. He—informed me of his decision.” Sandra frowned. “Bossy bastard.” Anger flickered in Nicole. “He is a general, and under the circumstances I doubt he has the patience for diplomacy.” Sandra studied her speculatively. “Why are you making excuses for him? I thought you hated him?” “I never said I hated him!” Nicole denied stiffly. “I said he hated me.” “If he does, he’s got a hell of a way of showing it,” Sandra said dryly. “I swear to god I thought he was going to cry when you were hurt. I can’t tell you how uncomfortable that made me.” Nicole reddened, trying to ignore the lump that formed in her throat. “Considering he’d been through pure hell to get us here to help, I don’t doubt he was devastated to think it might have been all for nothing.” Sandra sent her a look of disgust. “He was fondling your hand, for god sake! I saw the look on his face. I’m telling you that man is crazy about you! They couldn’t make him leave you long enough to get treatment for his own wounds until they took you in to surgery.” Nicole found she wanted to believe Sandra in the worst kind of way, but wanting it didn’t mean it was so. Maybe there was more to him taking such good care of them than the need to have them help his people, but if it was true that certainly didn’t seem to be the case now. She’d given him every opportunity to say—something. He hadn’t even said he was sorry they had to leave. If he’d given her anything to work with …. She just hadn’t been able to get up the nerve to try to break through that cold façade—because she wasn’t convinced it was just a façade at all. There was no getting around the fact that Luc the prisoner was nothing in the world like General Lucifer Blackhardt. He’d seemed to need her before—her as a woman, not as a scientist. Now he didn’t seem to need anybody. He was the rock everyone here looked up to. She looked away. “Maybe he thought he did feel something special because of the terrible things they put him through when they were holding him prisoner, and he realized after he got back here that it was just that—a need to find a friend among enemies.” Sandra studied her a moment and finally shrugged. “I’d thought about that, actually. It does things to the mind. Granted, they’re different, but not that different. He’s a strong man or he would’ve had a complete mental break with all they put him through. I’m sure it didn’t help to be turned over to us after they’d beat and tortured him for weeks.” Thank you, Sandy, for supporting a theory I wanted you to shoot down, Nicole thought irritably! **** The return trip through the wormhole was almost as horrible as the trip out, not quite, but near enough Nicole was almost tearfully grateful when it was over with.

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Or maybe, she thought, she felt tearful because Luc hadn’t even come to tell her bye. She supposed he figured he’d done that the day before. Azael had said he’d gone out on a reconnaissance to try to round up missing troops, but she knew he could’ve put it off long enough to see her before she left if he’d wanted to. Azael studied the terrain critically when they had finally reached Earth. “I can not leave you here,” he said with finality. “But I can not carry more than one at the time.” “Take Nicole home first,” Sandra responded immediately. “I’ll wait here.” Nicole studied her, knowing she should volunteer to stay behind and let Sandra go first. “You’re sure?” Sandra nodded. “I don’t suppose I could crash with you for a few days? I don’t really feel up to heading back home yet, and we need to decide how best to go about getting the vaccine to the proper authorities.” Nicole was surprised at the request, but she could see the sense of it. She was torn, anyway, by the need to be alone and the fear of the same thing. Her choice, if she’d been left to it, would’ve been to scurry into her ‘burrow’ and hide from the world. They had to wait for dark for Azael’s safety. None of them were inclined to while away the time with chatting. Mostly they just sat in the shade they’d managed to find—from a rock and few scraggly cacti—and stared at nothing. Even Sandra, who was normally inclined to chatter, seemed subdued. Azael sat between them looking like a stone statue. The mail and news sheets were piled up on Nicole’s computer when she checked after Azael had left. After flipping through it a while, disposing of the junk mail—which was all she had—she turned the computer off. The apartment smelled unlovely from having been shut up so long. She opened the doors wide on the balcony and stood staring at the night sky for a while, wondering if any of the bright little dots in the sky were shining down on Luc. She had no idea where his world lay in the universe in relation to Earth. She doubted he did. She wondered if he was staring at the sky wondering the same thing she was. Turning back to the apartment after a little bit, she set about straightening her spare room for Sandra. She’d never used it, never really thought she’d have the need to. All of the apartments came with two or three bedrooms, though—because the building was old and predated mandatory birth control. The thought put her in mind of what Luc had told her—Not that she’d needed him to. Sandra had already spoken to her about it, and she hadn’t even needed that reminder since she was well aware she’d had unprotected sex. Refusing to acknowledge the memories battering at her mind to take hold, she turned her steps toward her bathroom. Opening the cabinet above the lavatory, she took out her day-after pills and studied the bottle. Effectiveness diminished, she saw without any surprise, the longer the time period after sex that the pill was taken. There’s nothing here to terminate the child I gave you. Pain flooded her at the memory. It had hurt so much then she could hardly catch her breath for the pain in her chest. It hurt more now. Struggling with the urge to burst into tears, she put the bottle back. She knew the chances had to be remote that he’d given her his child, whatever he thought—that male ego thing, she suspected. And he was alien. However similar they were, there were still a lot of differences. It probably wouldn’t have ‘taken’ even if she’d been fertile

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at the moment. If it had, it would probably self-terminate. If it didn’t, she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t doing herself or the ‘maybe baby’ any good with that attitude, she knew. If she had, by some miracle, conceived, she would not be allowed to carry it to term. Once it was discovered, she would be forced to have a mandatory abortion, and then she would be fined and imprisoned for getting pregnant to start with. She could avoid the possibility of a fine and imprisonment if she terminated it herself and no one was the wiser. It occurred to her, though, that she could apply for a license. She had no living parent or siblings. With no one to carry on her specific line and her credentials as a scientist, she might actually manage to obtain a license. She was insane! It took months and months, years, to work through all the red tape of trying to get a license. By that time it wouldn’t be a secret any more. “Oh, Luc,” she murmured mournfully, struggling with the wobble in her chin. “Why did you do this to me?” Fleeing to her bedroom, she slammed and locked her door and gave in to the absolute necessity of crying her eyes out. She knew she was being a terrible hostess, but she couldn’t bring herself to face Sandra at the moment and even try to act like she was alright. She heard Sandra come in a while later, heard the low murmur of voices as she spoke to Azael. Someone tried her door a few minutes later, and then she heard them move down the hall and enter the spare bedroom. It was impossible given that she was trying to muffle her sobs, not to hear what was going on in the other room. It made her cry harder. If she’d been more like Sandra, she thought, she might at least have more memories. If she hadn’t been so stupid as to think she could avoid falling for Luc if she just kept her distance she thought he would’ve loved her more than once. The thought brought her up short, and she examined it a little hopefully, trying to decide if it had seemed to be more than just sex. It had felt like he was making love to her, she realized, but that didn’t mean he’d felt it, only that she had. Sandra had been so right about her! She was a complete coward. She never took chances on anything or anyone, but it wasn’t because she was sensible. It wasn’t because she was smart and practical. It was just because she was a complete emotional coward, so scared she would get hurt that she wouldn’t even take the chance she might. And it hadn’t protected her all, not one little bit! She was still hurt! **** Sandra was sure she’d never worked so hard in her life to pretend to be completely offhand about the situation. She wasn’t even sure why she was trying so hard except that she was dimly aware that falling apart wasn’t going to improve her circumstances. She had one goal in mind, and she stuck to it, refusing to acknowledge the sense of impending doom that was trying to tie her in knots. She hoped the seductive smile she tried for didn’t look as fake as it felt, but from the reception she got from Azael, she was pretty sure it looked as sickly as it seemed to her. “You don’t have to rush right back, do you?” His face was stony as his gaze flicked over her. “I have orders,” he finally responded. Sandra felt her smile falter. “A quickie then?” she asked, trying not to sound like she was begging—which she was. She just didn’t want him to know it.

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His brows drew together over the bridge of his nose. “What is a ‘quickie’?” he asked suspiciously. Dismay filled her. “A quick fuck,” she said baldly. “I mean—it wouldn’t take long and both of us deserve a little R&R—rest and relaxation.” She thought for one horrible moment that he was going to turn her down. She could see the reluctance in his expression. “Of course, if you aren’t interested…,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant about it as she turned away from him and headed toward the area where she hoped to find a bed, ‘casually’ undressing and discarding her clothes as she went. The first door she tried was locked. Gritting her teeth, she turned and looked down the hall at the other two doors. One stood open, revealing a bath. Azael caught up to her before she reached the only alternative. She didn’t get the chance to see if the room actually contained a bed. He shoved her roughly against the wall, dragged her head back and fastened his mouth over hers as if he meant to suck the life out of her. A heat wave crashed through her before she even had time to ingest the drug of his kiss. He didn’t need it to subdue her, she thought dimly. Or maybe he did. If the lethargy hadn’t swept through her, draining her of the will to fight, she would’ve climbed up him and mounted him right then if she’d had to fight him for possession of his cock. She struggled against the effects of the drug in her system anyway—for all the good it did—feeling the urge to weep sweep through her as the realization sank in that she couldn’t do any of the things to him that she’d wanted to. She wanted him inside of her—desperately—but she hadn’t wanted to rush it, despite the lie she’d told him. She’d wanted the chance to make him feel the way he made her feel, to give him pleasure not just lay like a stone and let him take whatever pleasure he could. She complained anyway when he finally lifted his lips from hers, struggling to form the words. They came out in a slurred, unintelligible mumble as he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the room she’d been about to enter. There was a bed—thank god—thank you, Nicole! He settled her on it, staring down at her as he undressed. She watched him in feverish anticipation. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a man that was more beautiful than Azael—and that was saying something because Luc was gorgeous. She didn’t know if Azael actually was better looking than Luc, or if he just seemed so because she was so crazy about him, but she didn’t suppose it mattered. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, and to her mind, he was the fairest in the land. He entered her the moment he joined her on the bed, but she didn’t allow disappointment to gain a hand. She was ready for him—more than ready, and she knew he wouldn’t disappoint her. She didn’t need any more stimulation. The faintly rough abrasion of his wonder cock along her channel was stimulation enough—more than enough. She came within minutes. Before she could even touch down from the explosive high of rapture, he began to build the passion inside of her again. She began to think she was going to actually die of pleasure after the third climax. She discovered she didn’t care. Even when she reached the point where she fainted when she came, she didn’t make any attempt to stop him or beg off. Either he’d reached the limit of his endurance, or he realized she had, though. He carried her up the mountain twice more and then bathed her womb with the hot jetsam of his release. She felt the urge to weep when he came inside of her. She wanted to wrap her arms around him

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and hold him tightly—knowing he was done and he would leave. She couldn’t find the strength. She couldn’t even hold on to consciousness. As hard as she fought to cling to it, it slipped away.

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Chapter Ten Nicole wasn’t the least surprised to discover the following morning when she finally got up that her eyes were nearly swollen shut. She was surprised to find that Sandra didn’t look a hell of a lot better than she did. They stared at one another glumly over the coffee Nicole had made. “I think I’m in love with Luc,” Nicole muttered finally. “You think?” Sandra said sarcastically. “And you’re confessing this to me, why?” Nicole glared at her. “Because I thought you were my friend!” Sandra sniffed. “I am your friend. I just don’t see why you feel like you can tell me and you didn’t tell him when it might have made a difference.” Nicole rubbed her nose. “For the same reason you didn’t tell Azael you loved him, I imagine. Because I’m stupid!” Sandra dragged in a deep breath and uttered a long suffering sigh. “I guess. It wasn’t actually stupid, you know. It wasn’t something that could work out. I mean, even supposing they actually did care about us.” “I don’t suppose it would’ve,” Nicole agreed doubtfully. “They couldn’t come here.” “Not unless they wanted to be pincushions.” “And it’s awful there.” Sandra nodded. “I don’t know how I stood it as long as I did. Of course, Azael was a definite plus in their column. But I’m pretty sure it was just recreational sex as far as he was concerned.” Nicole studied the liquid in her cup, trying to remember if she’d seen anything that might indicate otherwise. “I was too busy trying to avoid Luc to notice,” she admitted finally. “But I’m sure it was more than that. He was very particular about you. And—you’re beautiful. You have a great figure, a really sweet personality. You’re smart and funny. Why wouldn’t he think you’re special? You are.” Sandra gave her a look. “Did you see a lot of women around there? Because I didn’t. And the few I did see were half dead. My grandma would be beautiful to a man that hadn’t seen breathing women in a while.” Nicole felt a flicker of amusement at the last comment, except that it gave rise to some uncomfortable thoughts of her own. “You think that’s why they were interested?” she asked in dismay. “Let me think about it—yes.” She studied Nicole’s dismayed face a long moment. “Think about it—we don’t have the beautiful red complexion they’ve got, the pointy ears—no horns and no wings.” Nicole finished her coffee and then just continued to sit staring at the bottom of the cup. “You’re going to think I’m crazy ….” “I know you’re crazy,” Sandra quipped, smiling faintly. Nicole swallowed against a knot that formed in her throat and refused to be dislodged. “Ever since Luc said he’d given me a baby I haven’t been able to think of anything else.” “Did you take a pill when you got here?”

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“No.” Sandra’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, no? You’re out?” “No. I just ….” She sighed. “I couldn’t. I want it so badly, Sandra! I was thinking I could apply for a license.” “That isn’t funny, Nicky! Don’t be screwing around with this. Take the damned pill! They’re never going to give you a license.” “I heard they would if you were the last of your line, and I am,” she said hesitantly. “The last male, maybe,” Sandra said dryly. “You can’t listen to that shit, Nicky! There’s all kinds of rumors about how to get one, but who do you know that did? I haven’t seen a baby since I was a baby.” “It won’t hurt to apply,” Nicole said stubbornly. “It will hurt! They’ll examine you! And if by some chance you really are pregnant, they’ll put you in jail—and abort it—and empty your credits and make you work off the rest. You’ll be so damned old when you get out you might just as well shoot yourself!” Nicole’s chin wobbled. “It’s Luc’s baby,” she said forlornly. “And I’m probably never going to see him again. I want his baby. There’s got to be something I could do.” Sandra dragged in a shaky breath. “We could always go back.” Nicole stared at her, her breath suspended in her chest. “Are you serious?” She thought about it. “They’re going to think we’re crazy, you know. They’ve probably already found them another woman.” “Luc would be mad,” Nicole said uneasily. Sandra’s lips tightened. “We can go if we want to! If we get there and they’ve found somebody else, we’ll just find somebody else!” “But I don’t want anybody else.” “Don’t be a wimp, Nicky! If you want the guy you’re going to have to have a little back bone and go for it!” Nicole gave her an indignant look. “You didn’t!” Sandra glared at her. “Ok, so it’s a little different when you actually care about a guy, but the principle is the same. You dangle in front of his face, and if he doesn’t take the bait, dangle in front of somebody else.” “Flirt with somebody else, you mean?” “Exactly.” Nicole frowned. “If I flirt with someone else, won’t he think I don’t care about him?” “He’s a man, Nicky! You have to get his attention! Besides, knowing somebody else wants it always makes it more desirable.” “What if he still doesn’t go for it?” “Then I was wrong and you’ll have to forget it and find somebody else—or we could come back here.” They sat considering it for a while. “I don’t know, Sandra. There are so many things that could go wrong—we might miss one of the wormholes and get stuck somewhere else—or attacked. Some of those places looked pretty scary. And what would we do when we got there? We got attacked on Nadryl. If Luc and Azael hadn’t come to get us ….” Both of them shuddered at the memory. “What do you want to do? Throw love notes through the wormhole?” Sandra asked irritably. “I should have just told Luc I didn’t want to come back.” “I told Azael. He said he was under orders to bring us back. Anyway, we’ve got the

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serum. We have to do something about that. For all we know the swarm might never hit Earth. But what if it did?” Nicole uttered a deep sigh. “We should focus on that first thing. Once we’ve done what we can, then we can consider what to do afterwards.” “I’ve been thinking about that—We can’t go to the base. I’m pretty sure they will have figured out it was me that helped Luc escape.” “I hadn’t thought about that,” Nicole said uneasily. “You don’t think, maybe, they will believe he escaped and kidnapped you like he did me?” “They might have,” Sandra said dryly, “if a half a dozen MP’s hadn’t seen me chasing him screaming ‘take me with you’.” “Oh. I guess that’s out then. We could go to the CDC, I suppose, but what are we going to tell them about how we got it?” “I haven’t figured that out yet. We damned sure can’t take it with us when we go. It’s an inoculation for a disease nobody here’s ever seen. They’d think it was a bio-weapon.” Nicole looked at her in horror. “Oh, god! I hadn’t thought about that! We can’t take this thing in—at all. I was so wrapped up in everything that was going on there I never even thought about how impossible it was going to be to explain having it!” “We can’t not take it in!” Sandra said. “What if the swarm actually does come here? They won’t have anything to fight it with.” Nicole thought about it a while and finally looked at Sandra excitedly. “We can tell them we discovered it when we were studying Luc! And we developed the inoculation from antibodies we found in him.” “There’s a small problem with that—we were told not to discuss the project with anybody.” “Civilians,” Nicole said. “This would be different. It’s another branch of the government.” “I don’t know,” Sandra said doubtfully. “What if they call the base to verify?” “I could take it in, then, and tell them he kidnapped me, and we’ll figure out the rest of the story from there.” Sandra frowned. “I still don’t like it.” “Oh,” Nicole said uncomfortably as a thought suddenly occurred to her. “I’d forgotten we were going to give you credit.” Sandra stared at her a long moment and finally covered her face with her hands. “I don’t care about the damned fame and fortune! I just want Azael! And I don’t want to end up in jail here because then I won’t be able to go back.” Nicole studied her with commiseration. “You’re in love with him.” Sandra nodded without looking up. “He used the whammy on me, and now I’m completely and totally in love with him, and I’m going to be miserable for the rest of my life!” The comment jogged a memory, and Nicole frowned thoughtfully. “Luc didn’t use the ‘whammy’ on you?” she asked hesitantly, trying to stifle the hope threatening to break free and envelop her. Sandra dropped her hands and stared at Nicole. “You know, now that you mention it, that’s just fucking weird. Why didn’t I fall for Luc?” Nicole’s throat closed. She swallowed with an effort. “Luc said they didn’t control it all. It just happened when they were with a woman they wanted as a mate.” Sandra sniffed, studying it over. Abruptly a smile lit her face. “He does love me!”

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“You think that’s really what it means?” Nicole asked hopefully. Sandra’s smile deflated. “You said Luc told you it was about being with the woman they wanted for a mate.” “I didn’t believe him.” “And you still don’t? Or now you do?” “I just don’t understand that thing they can do. I wasn’t with anyone but Luc. Was it different?” “Well, hell yeah it was different! Not that Luc isn’t good in the sack—don’t be pissed off with me about it. You would’ve been insulted if I’d said he wasn’t. And it isn’t like I was messing around with him after you became interested. Besides which, he made it pretty damned clear it was you he was interested in all the time! “Anyway, it wasn’t really like an aphrodisiac with Luc. It was more like that pre-surgical drug they give you that makes you relax—and you just don’t give a damn about anything, you know? You’re aware of everything, but you just can’t do anything, and it really doesn’t bother you that you can’t. It started out like that with Azael, too, but then he did this absolutely wonderful thing. It was like—arousal on steroids—mega arousal. I didn’t even know I could orgasm that many times!” Nicole smiled dreamily, felt as if a weight had lifted off of her. “It was just for me.” **** “A dozen more men returned today.” Lucifer turned from his window and stared at Azael absently for several moments. Finally, he nodded. “We have enough to feed them?” Azael was silent for several moments. “Rations are not the problem. Morale is non existent.” Lucifer scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “It is not likely to improve any time soon. They are soldiers. Rotate the burial details and send a troop out tomorrow to round up as many civilians as they can to help with the clean up.” Azael nodded but hesitated. “I want to return for my woman,” he said finally. Lucifer looked at him sharply. “This is no place for an Earth woman—any woman—not until we have brought some order. The streets are not safe for them. They are not safe in their homes. We can only protect them by holding them here where they are virtually prisoners.” Azael’s jaw tightened. “She knows what it is like here. She was willing to stay with me. I took her back because, like you, I thought it would be best for her.” “And now you think I was wrong?” Azael uttered a disgusted sound. “No. I know you were right. Still, I have nothing to work for—none of us do. We need to know we are working for something, General. We have no heart for this. You have no heart for it, yourself.” Lucifer glared at him. “I know my duty. We have to bring order if there is to be a future for Heillius.” “Yes, sir, we do,” Azael ground out. “But what future do you foresee? We have lost our mates, our children, our homes. What are we striving for beyond cleaning up the wreckage and disposing of the dead? There are women here who have lost their mates—and men who have done the same. If they at least knew that they could look forward to finding a mate and building a new home, they would have something to buoy their spirits.” Lucifer nodded. “You are right. It can not be rebuilt in a day, no matter how hard we work. The dead must be disposed of or we will be overrun with more disease, but tell them

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when they have cleared the first quadrant of the city, we will take a day of rest and one to celebrate the end of the plague. “And tell the women that they are in charge of boosting morale,” he added, smiling faintly. Mayhap it will boost their spirits to turn their minds to something pleasant for a change, and it is certain to boost the men’s spirits if they see smiling faces for a change.” Azael relaxed fractionally. “Do I have your permission to return for my woman?” “You will want to make a place for her to see to her creature comforts.” “Aye, sir.” Lucifer was thoughtful. “We have dwindled in numbers even with those who have returned. It will not hurt to convert one or two of the barracks into more comfortable accommodations for families, and it will be safer within the fort for now. We could inspect them.” Azael allowed himself a faint smile as he saluted. “Yes, sir.” They gathered curious gazes as they crossed the parade ground to the first of the abandoned barracks. Both men paced the building off, examined the facilities, and discussed the possibilities. “They would certainly not be grand,” Lucifer said after a bit, “but I think it could be divided into three tidy apartments.” Azael nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “A bedroom, a small bath, and a living/cooking area.” “Sandra can cook?” Lucifer asked doubtfully. Azael reddened. “I do not know. I did not have time to discuss such things with her.” Lucifer grinned abruptly. “Did you not?” “We could always eat in the mess hall with everyone if she can not,” Azael said, grinning back at him. “I would like the option, though, to escape the life of a soldier at least when we are together.” Lucifer’s smile faded. “I suppose a soldier’s life is not for every man.” “I am a career man, myself,” Azael said, “as you well know. I have no quarrel with continuing the same. But I have never mated. I would like a daughter, I think, and mayhap, in time, a son.” Lucifer glanced at him in surprise. “Not a son first and then a daughter?” Azael shook his head, turning to look at the women on the other side of the compound. “Heillius has lost far more daughters than sons. And, at any rate, I have a yearning for a child to coddle with the face of her mother. One can not do so with a son if you wish him to grow into a man.” “You are that certain that she will return with you?” Azael grimaced. “Not that she will want to,” he admitted. “But she can be persuaded, I think.” Lucifer studied him for a moment and looked away. “Take care you do not ‘persuade’ yourself into misery. There is nothing worse than caring for someone who does not return the sentiment. ‘Persuading’ them will only insure your misery, not happiness.” Azael looked disconcerted. “It has always been the way.” “That does not mean it always should be,” Lucifer said wryly. “Cara was not happy that I bound her to me, and she made certain that I ‘enjoyed’ the bonding as much as she did. We know nothing about Earth women. We can not even know if the bonding will work with them. You may find yourself bound and her free to choose another.” Azael frowned, then reddened. “I already forged the bond,” he admitted. “I am fairly

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certain I could not be more miserable than I am now. I will persuade her, and, if that does not seem to work, then I will discover, if I can, what her customs are and try that.” Lucifer smiled wryly. “You will no doubt have no trouble getting the information out of her. She is a chatterer. She does not mind saying what is on her mind.” They paused at the entrance when they reached the administration building once more. “You have permission to pull a small detail to begin remodeling the barracks.” Azael nodded, his enthusiasm carefully tamped, though Lucifer could see that he was chafing to start to work on the project. He hesitated and finally asked the question he had been struggling not to ask. “Nicole seemed—happy to be home?” Azael looked disconcerted. He studied his feet uncomfortably, glanced around as if searching for an answer, and finally met Lucifer’s gaze. “You broke the bond. I did not know you expected she would be.” He shook his head. “She wept.” Lucifer felt his chest tighten. It took him several moments to recall the need to breathe and when he did it only made his chest hurt more. “She was not injured in any way?” “Nay. I took good care of her.” “She did not have bad news waiting?” Azael frowned. “I had not thought of that. I took her to her home first and left her to return for Sandra. She had shut herself in her bedchamber when we returned, but I could not help but overhear.” Anger surged inside Lucifer. “You did not stay to see what was the matter?” Azael looked at him in dismay, though anger flickered in his eyes. “You said that I was to see them safely home and return.” “But you do not know that she was safe!” Lucifer ground out. “If she was distressed there was a reason.” “She sounded … sorrowful. I had no reason to believe she was in any sort of trouble. There was no sign of any sort of disturbance in the apartment.” Lucifer wasn’t convinced. He struggled with the urge to plant his fist in the middle of Azael’s face for a few moments and finally mastered it and dismissed the man. Azael had followed his orders. He had not attained the rank of major by questioning his superiors. It was not reasonable to want to beat him senseless for following orders. Returning to his office, he stared at the stacks of paperwork on his desk for a few moments and turned to pacing the room instead of studying the reports. There was no startling news in them, in any case. The list of dead or missing already comprised a stack that was several inches thick, and they had not even counted a fraction. The list of problems that needed to be resolved in some manner was nigh as thick, and trying to juggle what they had against what they did not have made his head swim. The problems would not be resolved by ignoring them, but neither would they go away. They would still be awaiting his attention when he returned to study them. Slowly but surely, as he studied the enormity of their disaster, he was gaining perspective and losing confidence that he could make a dent in resolving the myriad of problems. Azael had been right. He did not have the heart for it. He did not have the heart for anything any more. The hope had risen in him that Nicky’s unhappiness was directly related to his own, but although he spent a great deal of time turning his memories for some indication that that was the case, he could not recall a single look or word that supported that hope. It did not help that his

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emotional state at the time of their last meeting was just shy of chaotic. He had been too focused on saying what he had rehearsed that he knew he needed to say and the struggle to preserve his pride while he was at it to even look at her let alone recall what she had said or what her expressions might have told him. In all honesty, he could not recall any time that he was with Nicky that he had not been an emotional wreck, which did not allow for clear thinking at the time much less clear recollection. He could recall every word she had said that had wounded because each one had stabbed into him like a poisoned knife. He could recall, with painful detail, the unremitting, fevered desperation to hold her, caress her, merge his body with hers and claim her. He had not been able to think of much else since he had first seen her and having her near but always beyond reach had been like the itch one could not scratch, tormenting endlessly until he felt like he would go insane if he did not get his hands on her and soothe it. He supposed he had not been entirely rational—mayhap not even close to sane—when he had finally seized the opportunity to assuage the burning ache else he would have used some caution, mayhap a dose of self-preservation, and he would have restrained himself from bonding himself so tightly to her. He would have had the sense to at least refrain from impregnating her. The need, no longer held in check, had fallen over him like an avalanche, though, suffocating all reason. He had chafed endlessly for the moment when there was no impediment to taking what he wanted, and, when he had seen the moment and seized it, there had been no room for thoughts of caution. Was that it, he wondered, the cause of her great distress? That he had given her a child? Was she weeping because he had placed her in the terrible position of having to destroy it? Or because she was afraid that it would be discovered and she would have to pay the price for his lack of control? He felt sick at the thought—at both. She had to realize that he would never have put her at risk if he had had any idea, he told himself, until he recalled the look on her face when he’d told her what he’d done. He scrubbed a hand over his face as if by doing so he could wipe the memory from his mind. He had always prided himself on his stamina—It was the measure of a Saitren man, the ability to control himself—to be able to pleasure a woman for hour upon hour, or a half dozen women. He had not held Nicky in his thrall even half as long as he had needed to to ensure that she ingested enough of his mating essence to hold her, though. He had compounded his error by yielding to the impulse to impregnate her before he had ensured the binding. He had told himself he was weak because he had waited so long, that he would give in to the need he could not fight anymore and try again when he had taken the edge off of his need. Instead, he had allowed her to slip through his fingers, knowing already that the pre-mating essence didn’t hold earth women as it did theirs and that she would elude him if he didn’t immediately subdue her again. She had avoided him afterwards—without much difficultly with all that was happening around them, and he hadn’t been able to get up the nerve to pressure her, to pursue the bonding persuasion. He had had some vague notion that she needed time to come to terms with it and told himself he was practicing patience, although he knew better. He had been waiting to see if she would acknowledge the bonding—tenuous or not it had gripped him and should at least have affected her to some degree if it had done no more than make her more amenable to his touch— but not because he was allowing her time to accept. He had kept his distance to lick his wounds and try to shore up his shattered confidence

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to try again. He was not certain if her refusal to look at him or speak to him afterward had finally convinced him that it was useless to try further pursuit of the bonding, or if he had decided it would be easier not to see her every day so that he felt the shunning so acutely, or if reason had finally been drummed into him by the staggering reports of losses. He thought it was probably a combination of all three, though, that had finally brought him to the realization that he needed to send her back to her home. Now, though, he could not help but worry that he had made the wrong decision. There was no doubt at all that her world was a better place to live—not now. In the past, he would have been inclined to think his own far superior. Mayhap they did not have the vast technology of her world, but it was a comfortable existence even for the poorest, and his position would have allowed him to give her pretty much whatever her heart desired. What had he sent her back to, he wondered, that had caused her so much distress? She was not a weepy woman. She was not bold and daring, but she had a quiet strength that he admired. He could not recall the attack on her and Sandra without feeling all over again the rage that the mob had dared to attack her, and the fear that they would hurt her, or flee with her before he could stop it, but he did remember that she had stood her ground to fight to defend herself. She had not simply folded when she had found herself surrounded and so badly outnumbered. She had not wept and carried on when Azael had nearly killed her. He had felt like doing so. He thought he might have lost it and done so if he had not been trying so hard to convince both her and himself that it was not as bad as it appeared. He was certain it must be something terrible if she was grieved enough to weep so inconsolably. He did not know what might have caused it, but he would not find out pacing his office and wondering about it. He would have to go to her to learn what it was and see if it was something that he could fix for her. She might not welcome his interference in her life, whatever it was. He would be shirking his responsibilities to his people if he left them in the middle of this mess to go to her. There was order of a sort, though. The rioting had burned itself out, and the troops had frightened off the looters they hadn’t killed or imprisoned. The search for people in need of treatment and women and children in need of protection and aid had been organized. The collection and burning of the plague victims progressed—slowly, but they had been at it long enough they did not need supervision. There was no great rush to clear the streets beyond removing the dead. The garrison was the only reasonably safe place to live at the moment, and he had already given Azael the go ahead to begin working on more permanent places for the refugees to live. He could leave Azael or even one of his lieutenants in charge to oversee operations long enough just to see if Nicky was alright. He would have to lay out longer range plans in case he encountered hostility from her people and was unable to return—not that he had any intention of allowing himself to be captured again. He had walked in to it before because there was no other way to seek help. He had their measure now, though. And, in any case, he was not going as a beggar. He was going to help Nicky. He could use stealth to avoid capture.

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Chapter Eleven When they had finally been able to, mostly, move past their preoccupation with their personal relationships, Nicole and Sandra settled to the task of dredging up every worst case scenario they could think up and trying to think of ways to circumvent them. Mailing the serum to the Center for Disease Control anonymously with a complete explanation appealed to both of them far more than presenting themselves as possible targets, but they both knew they couldn’t take that route. The chances, they were sure, were better than even that it would simply be viewed as a prank or a threat and in either case the package might be destroyed without investigation into the truth of it. There was no doubt there would be an investigation and that every effort would be made to discover them—which might succeed—but they wouldn’t have the serum anymore to substantiate their claims to say nothing of the danger it would present to thousands or millions of lives. Reluctantly, they discarded that possibility and focused on getting in, presenting their case as concisely and clearly as possible, and escaping with their hides in tact. They was no agency they could deliver their findings to that was not connected in some way to the government, and Sandra lost what little enthusiasm she’d still had for claiming discovery. Nicole wasn’t a lot more enthused about being the bearer, but she was obliged to admit that the threat to herself wasn’t as great as the threat to Sandra. Sandra, they decided, would be look out and driver in the event they had to make a quick getaway—which they tried, not very successfully, to convince themselves couldn’t possibly happen. It certainly wouldn’t be safe for both of them to walk into the lion’s den, though. If nothing else, someone had to be on the outside to work to get the other out in the event they were detained. They had one blow up in the week they spent planning that had nothing to do with the ‘plan’, at least not directly. Nicole, preoccupied with the possibility that she might be pregnant, had decided as long as she was researching the archives about the layout of the building that housed the CDC that she might as well do a little research about conception and gestation to see if she could figure out how to determine if she was pregnant. Sandra, wandering over to see what it was that Nicole had found that had her so riveted she hadn’t responded to anything she’d said in the past five minutes, took one look at the screen and pitched a screaming fit. “Are you completely out of your fucking mind!” Nicole turned to gape at her blankly. “What?” “Jesus fucking Christ almighty, Nicky! Do you want to lead them straight to your door? Don’t you know they monitor everything that goes on online?” “Of course I do!” Nicole snapped indignantly. “I’m not an idiot! I’ve been pulling up random information like we discussed. I didn’t see why it all had to be boring, unnecessary random information!” “Well you might as well have pulled up the schematics for a bomb! That will put up a flag!” she snarled, stabbing the keyboard to close the window.

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“And pulling up the floor plan of the CDC won’t?” “You could explain that, for god sake! You’re a microbiologist. You could say you were considering applying for a position and just looking to see where personnel was, damn it! Exactly what kind of story do you think you can cook up to cover looking into pregnancy?” Fear mingled with Nicole’s anger and resentment. “I only had it open for a minute. I could just say I stumbled upon it.” “Right! You’ve had your nose to that screen for the past five minutes at least!” “I couldn’t possibly have had it open that long! I only got to the second paragraph!” “You were studying pictures when I came in.” Nicole looked at Sandra self-consciously. “Well, maybe five minutes,” she hedged. Sandra let out a huff, folded her arms, and started pacing the room. “We need to get out of here anyway. Every time I go out for anything all of your neighbors stare. And that nosy old woman next door has already asked me twice where you were gone off to for so long. I’ve got a bad feeling she recognized me from the pictures in the news sheets.” “Where are we going to go? We can’t use your credits or mine without giving away our location anyway. At least here, it looks like I’m where I’m supposed to be, minding my own business.” “Except for cruising for information about pregnancy.” “Alright, damn it! I won’t go there anymore. Can we focus on the plan?” “We need to do it and get it over with. The longer we discuss it the more nervous I am that something will go wrong.” “Well, it certainly will if we get in there and discover we haven’t covered everything!” “God!” Sandra exclaimed. “Why does it have to be so damned complicated! You’d think we could just walk in and hand it over and they’d be grateful to have it, willing to listen. They aren’t going to let you explain it, Nicky. I feel it my bones! “Let’s just drop it in the mail to them and get the hell out of here! I don’t think it could possibly work out any worse than it’s going to if we go through with this crazy … super spy plan we’ve put together.” Nicole studied her. “I’m nervous, too, but you put together an escape plan for Luc. I’ve got confidence in you.” “That is completely misplaced, girlfriend!” Sandra growled. “This isn’t the same situation at all! I paid a guy to help me with that. I had inside help. I had weeks to study the security and complete access to it, plus the fact that they were so confident Luc couldn’t possibly breach their security that they never considered anybody would help him. We’re going to be completely on our own—and walking in to a trap, I might add.” “Alright,” Nicole said. “Let’s just get it done and get out of here. I think we’ve done all the planning we can. As you say, we don’t know what we’re going to be up against, and we can’t access security to really study it. I’ll go ahead and make the appointment to speak to the director. If it starts looking like things are going to fall apart, we’ll make a dash for the wormhole and take our chances. You’re certain you can find it again?” she ended worriedly. “This one, definitely. The others, I’m not as sure about, but they are virtually connected. Neither Luc nor Azael had to go far to step into the next one. It’d be easier if we had some sort of electronics to detect it for us, but I couldn’t even begin to guess what we’d need to look for so I haven’t a clue of what kind of electronic device would help.” Nicole nodded, ignoring the clench of nerves in her stomach at the thought of what they meant to do.

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“You’re sure we can buy weapons at that place you found?” “As sure as I can be without trying it—that’s the word on the street, anyway. I still say, since it’s black market stuff, we should just go ahead and buy them instead of waiting till the last minute. I can see waiting till the eleventh hour on the vehicle. They’d be able to trace that back to us pretty damned quickly, but the weapons ….” “We can’t just march down the street with a bag full of weapons,” Nicole said uneasily. “Where would we put them in the meantime if we don’t have a vehicle? Even if we did, we’d be in a hell of a fix if we were stopped for a search and the cops found the weapons. I don’t like it any better than you do, since it’s risking that we might have to dash off to Heillius without anything to defend ourselves with, but I honestly think it’s best.” The director was out of town when Nicole called. She arranged for the first available late afternoon appointment she could get upon her return. The wormhole opened at dawn. They didn’t want to be trying to dodge cops and soldiers any more than they absolutely had to and knew besides that the night would be easier to hide in. All they had to do if everything went bad was to get out of the city as quickly as they could and wait in the desert for dawn to break. They shopped for disguises while they waited since they’d decided it would look less suspicious if they bought the various items at different stores and that took a good deal of time. “I feel ridiculous,” Sandra muttered as they reached the CDC. “You look fine.” “I know I look alright!” Sandra snapped. “I still feel like I’m playing dress up.” “It was your idea to start with,” Nicole pointed out irritably. Sandra uttered a long suffering sigh. “Just go on, will you? I’m a nervous wreck.” “Check your com and make sure it’s still working before I go in.” “Like it stopped when we just checked it! Alright! Say something.” “What do you want me to say?” “That’ll do it. It’s working fine.” “You remember the code we worked out?” Nicole asked anxiously. “YES! ‘Excuse me. I have to go to the ladies room’—and then we both run like hell. I give you ten minutes to make it down the fire exit and then start the car.” **** Nicole had known she was the worst possible choice for the job. She didn’t have Sandra’s aplomb. She was so terrified by the time she got in the building she was white as a sheet. She knew she was because she felt like she was going to faint. “You alright?” the security guard asked. She pasted a smile on her face. “Job interviews always make me nervous.” “I feel you,” the guard responded, waving her through the check point. She should’ve felt relieved that she’d made it through and still had her com but she didn’t feel any better when she got on the elevator. If she had to run, her legs were going to turn to rubber and she was going roll down the fire stairs, she reflected. She spent the time waiting for her appointment clutching her purse in white knuckled fists and trying to rehearse the speech she’d formulated. Finally, when she’d just decided to dash to the ladies room to pee, the receptionist sent her in. She glanced at her watch. The appointment had been for five. It was five thirty. That was a good thing, she told herself. The cold faced woman that met her looked like the faint smile of politeness curling her

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lips must have hurt. “How can I help you Ms. …?” “Doctor,” Nicole corrected her, sucking in a sustaining breath to start her spiel. “They were a little vague about this meeting,” the woman said, cutting her off before she could finish the introduction line she’d come up with. “Actually, I’m here to help you.” The woman lifted two pencil thin brows— in fact they looked as if they’d been drawn with a pencil. “Oh?” The single word contained a wealth of disbelief, and it went down hill from there. “Yes … well, I was lately called upon to work on a special project—which I am not at liberty to discuss ….” “If you’re not at liberty to discuss it, I’m not sure why you’re here.” In the scenario she’d worked out in her mind, the woman had kept her mouth shut and allowed her to finish her carefully rehearsed speech. If the bitch would just shut up, Nicole thought indignantly, she might still be able to remember what she’d meant to say. “Where was I?” The woman gave her a cold look. “You hadn’t progressed past ‘I’m not at liberty’. Are you certain you have the right office?” The question threw Nicole. “You are the director of the CDC, right?” she demanded, unnerved as the possibility reared its ugly head that she might have the wrong office. “I am, and I’m afraid I’m very busy. I’ve been out of town, as you were no doubt informed, and have mounds of paperwork that require my attention. So if we could hurry this along …?” Nicole ground her teeth, resisting the urge to snap at the woman. “It’s a disease I found,” she said quickly when she noticed the woman was shifting in her seat as if she was about to get up. “Actually an inoculation against a virulent disease.” The woman’s expression was arrested. Her eyes flickered with rapid thought, however. “A new disease … and it’s somehow connected to this project you’re not at liberty to discuss? Would this be in the nature of biological warfare?” “N-n-no,” Nicole stammered, but the nightmarish thought arose almost the instant the woman mentioned it that it could very well be used for one. “It’s …uh … alien in origin. I don’t know where it came from. But the … uh … subject I was studying was carrying the antibodies and … just on the off chance that it might be something that maybe we might have to deal with at some time, I thought I’d bring it here so that, just in case the plague hit, then you’d already have the inoculation against it.” The woman jolted out of her seat. “You brought a virulent disease in here?” Nicole gaped at the woman. She stumbled out of her own chair, turning it over in the process. “Of course not! Uh … I have to go to the bathroom. I mean, ex …excuse me. I have to go the powder … the ladies room.” The woman had already slammed her finger down on the com unit on the table. Nicole bolted, darting out of the conference room and across the reception area. She glanced left and right when she emerged in the hallway, trying to jog her terrified memory for the direction out of the office to the fire stairs. The elevator dinged as the cubicle arrived, and the doors opened to reveal a cubicle full of security guards. Uttering a squeak of fright, Nicole whirled and ran the other way.

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“Halt! Stop right there or I’ll shoot!” “Don’t shoot at her, you moron! She’s carrying a biological weapon!” Nicole was about to shout that she wasn’t carrying anything, but it occurred to her that it might deter the men from trying to chase her down and tackle her. She broke half her nails when she grabbed the door to the stairwell and snatched it open. The guards, she saw as she risked a quick look in their direction, were still standing just outside the elevator. “Hazmat team, north stairwell!” one of the guards said into his communicator. “Shit!” Nicole exclaimed, pounding down the stairs. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that she wouldn’t be able to make it to the stairs without being seen, which meant they were going to head her off. “They’re after me, Sandra! Oh god!” she screamed into the com, detouring as soon as she hit the next landing and grabbing the door handle to enter the next floor. “I’ve got to go the other stairwell.” “Take the damned elevator!” Sandra yelled back at her. “Try to act casual.” Nicole smoothed shaking hands over her hair, then rubbed her sweating palms on her skirt, trying to keep from running as she walked quickly toward the elevator and stabbed at the button. She’d been staring at the indicator lights for almost a full minute before it dawned on her that the elevator wasn’t moving. “I think they’ve locked down the elevators,” she muttered shakily. “I’m going to try the south stairs.” She managed to make it down three flights before she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Ducking onto the next floor, she tried the elevator again. To her relief, the doors opened. She’d already punched in the ground floor before it dawned on her that they’d probably have guards waiting for her. She stabbed frantically at the control panel as the elevator dropped like a rocket and finally managed to catch the fourth floor before the elevator shot past it. The doors opened. She stared at the wall of security guards that met her and then struggled to ‘act casual’ as Sandra had instructed her. “Excuse me, sirs. I believe this is my floor,” she muttered shakily, trying to edge past them. A hand clamped on her arm, she was slammed against the wall, and two hands felt her up from the collar of her blouse all the way down to her ankles and then patted her all the way up her front. “We have the subject!” a man’s voice growled as her purse was snatched from her hands. Sandra gave her evil looks all the way to the police station. They didn’t talk, Nicole because she was in a state of shock and couldn’t even think, let alone put words together in speech, Sandra because she was still holding on to the hope that they could convince the cops it was a huge misunderstanding. She realized when the military police arrived that that wasn’t an option. **** “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this plan before,” Sandra snapped angrily. It was the first time they’d seen each other since they’d been arrested and interrogated. Nicole was actually surprised they’d allowed them outside their cells. “What plan?” she asked cautiously. “The one where we get arrested for criminal conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism and they find the damned serum at your place! This is by far the easiest way to get it to them!” One of the other inmates wandered up to Sandra while Nicole was trying to think of a

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response. “Gotta cigarette?” Sandra glared at her. The other woman glared back at her but turned around and stalked off. “Bitch!” she muttered. Nicole stepped between Sandra and the other woman as Sandra stiffened and started to follow her. “They’ll throw you in solitaire,” she hissed. Sandra narrowed her eyes at her. “They’re going to anyway when I kick your ass for you!” she growled. “Hey!” Nicole snapped indignantly. “It’s not my fault they caught you! I gave you the damned signal. You knew they were after me. You could have just walked off.” Sandra folded her arms and uttered a huff of irritation. “The damned security guards swarmed the parking lot the minute the alert went out. They saw me get out of the car—which, I might add, was full of fucking black market weapons! How do you think bio-terrorist is going to look on my resume?” “We haven’t had our day in court yet,” Nicole reminded her. “And that’s about how damned long it’s going to take, too!” Sandra snapped. “That worthless fucking lawyer I hired is trying to talk me into pleading guilty!” “Mine, too. I suppose it’s too much to ask that they actually put themselves out to argue the case.” Sandra sighed, dropping her arms to her sides. “Yeah, well you’ll probably get off. The serum mysteriously disappeared. I don’t know how they think they can charge you with bioterrorism when they don’t have any evidence.” “That damned bitch at the CDC is going to take the stand and tell them I threatened her with it,” Nicole said indignantly. “My lawyer said threatening was as good as doing since I was a microbiologist. They’re saying I hid it somewhere else and they couldn’t find it.” Sandra shrugged. “They still don’t have anything but that woman’s word that you did anything. I don’t see how they can make it stick. Now me, on the other hand—I had four laser pistols and two pulse rifles in the damned car. They didn’t believe me when I told them I had no idea they were in the trunk, that I’d just bought the car. The lawyer said it might work, since we had just bought the car, except the guy that sold it to us is swearing up and down he checked it out and the trunk was empty.” “Plus our fingerprints were all over them,” Nicole said, nodding. “We should’ve worn gloves. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.” “I knew we should’ve just mailed the damned package and headed for Nadryl!” “In retrospect, I have to agree. The military’s grabbed the serum anyway, which makes all this for nothing.” Sandra glanced around the prison yard and moved a little closer. “Do you think you’re pregnant? It’s been long enough now you can tell, right?” Nicole nodded. “Yes you can tell? Or yes you are?” “I’m pretty sure I am.” Sandra stared at her. “Oh this gets just keeps getting better. There’s no way in hell we’re getting out of here in time to do anything about that.” The ‘time’s up’ buzzer sounded before Nicole could respond. She glanced at Sandra sadly. “Are you still angry with me?” Sandra gave her a look. “I’m not angry with you. I’m just pissed off, period!” They had started back toward the prison when a guard yelled at them to move their asses.

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They hadn’t taken more than a few steps, however, when all hell broke loose. There was a tremendous explosion somewhere in the vicinity of the shop. Sandra and Nicole both screamed, grabbed each other, and ducked instinctively. They weren’t alone. Everyone in the yard was screaming and running or flattening themselves against the dirt or crawling along the ground. The prison alarms began to blare before the sound of the explosion had even stopped reverberating in their ears. The first guard to recover scanned the prison yard, gaped at something beyond their vision, and lifted his weapon. A red laser beam slammed into him before he could fire. A dozen more peppered the prison yard and the other guards before they could do much more than lift their weapons. Almost afraid to look, Nicole turned to see who was shooting at everyone. Her jaw went slack. “Luc!” she breathed in awe as she watched him dive toward them from the sky. Sandra whirled to look. “Azael!” she screamed, shoving away from Nicole abruptly and rushing to meet the second Saitren darting toward them. Unbalanced, Nicole floundered when Sandra shoved at her and then sprawled out. Before she could get to her feet again, Luc slammed into her, caught her, and soared upward once more. His grip and the sudden jolt to her body as she became airborne knocked the breath out of her. It was as well she was too stunned, she thought later, to feel the terror she would have otherwise, she was sure. The pain of having the breath knocked out of her and the struggle to drag in air completely absorbed her as Luc carried her into the heavens. **** The waiting had been the hardest part, not that the entire incident had not been nightmarish, Luc thought grimly. Since the wormhole reversed polarity in cycles, he and Azael had arrived precipitously near dusk. They had only to wait a matter of a few hours for full dark before they had left the desert and flown to Nicole’s apartment. Dismay and anger had filled him when he had arrived to discover both women gone and the apartment a shambles. It was some relief that there was no sign of blood, but it seemed clear to him that whoever had gone through the apartment had been in a rage. Everything had been destroyed. The furniture had been overturned, and the materials they were covered in slashed. Everything from every cabinet and shelf had been dragged out and tossed onto the floor. The destruction was certainly not the results of a fight. In the first place neither Nicole nor Sandra or even both of them together could’ve put up enough of a fight to result in the massive destruction he was seeing. In the second there was no blood. Rage seemed the only explanation, and, it not only aroused his, it aroused such fear that he could not think straight for many moments. “Where would they have been taken?” Azael ground out, cutting through Lucifer’s frightening thoughts. Lucifer glanced at him when he spoke and then looked around the apartment again. It was then that he noticed a flash of color around the front door of Nicole’s apartment. Moving to the door, he listened for any sound that there might be someone about and finally opened it. Strips of some bright material crisscrossed the opening. There was lettering on it, but the words were not familiar to him. He was still trying to decipher them when Azael joined him. “The authorities,” he said finally. “I am certain of it. This word looks much like our word for ‘enter’, yes? And this forbids it.” Azael studied the words and finally nodded agreement, then turned to survey the apartment again. “Were the authorities here before this was done? Or afterwards?” Luc shook his head. “Afterwards I would suppose. The question is do they know where

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Nicky and Sandra are or not, and how are we to obtain the information?” He closed the door again. “I am heartened that there is no sign of blood. This was not a fight whatever happened here.” Azael looked around the living area and finally turned over a chair and dropped onto the seat. “So we wait here to see if they return?” “I do not know what else to do at this point,” Lucifer admitted. “There is nothing here to tell us anything. We can not go to the authorities and question them without ending up as prisoners. And we can not do either Nicky or Sandra any good if we are captured.” After studying the strewn contents of the room himself, he righted the couch and sat on it. “Everything that Nicole possessed, as far as I can see, is still here. If we suppose that this was an act of rage, then it would follow that it was something in the nature of a looting. She would not want to stay here with it like this, but she would need to come back for her possessions.” Azael considered that thoughtfully for a moment and finally agreed that it seemed a reasonable assumption. After a time, he got up and wandered into the food preparation area to search for something to eat. It was then that he discovered that, by and large, the food had been ignored. He glanced at Luc, who’d followed him. “Looters would have taken the food.” Luc frowned. “They are not in the straights that we are. These looters would obviously have been searching for something of value here.” “Which they obviously did not find,” Azael said wryly, “else they would not have been in such a rage as to destroy everything. It puzzles me that they would take the time to do something like this. Many people live here. Would they not have heard something like this? I had no trouble hearing Nicole when she was in the other bedchamber, and I could tell that she was trying to keep from being heard.” Luc’s face hardened. “You are right. I had not thought of that.” Leaving the kitchen, he made a slow circuit of the apartment again, studying each room more carefully. “Everything has been tossed out, but not everything was destroyed,” he said when Azael joined him again. “It was disregard for the value of anything they tossed onto the floor, not deliberate. They were searching for something.” They wandered around the apartment a while longer, sifting through the debris, studying, thinking. Finally, Azael heaved a shaky breath. “They will not return. They have been taken.” Luc nodded, feeling a little sick at the worry and rage churning in his belly. “I fear you are right. I think we must assume that it was the authorities who took them. The question is civilian? Or military?” “I do not see that we have any choice but to check them all.” Luc agreed. “They are civilians, though. It seems more likely that it would be civilian authority.” Azael frowned. “Unless this was about your escape. I brought Sandra to stay here with Nicole. I had not thought about the possibility that there would be trouble for them because of that.” Anger flickered through Lucifer, but he could neither convince himself that Azael was wrong nor accept the possibility that he was right. It had been months now since that had happened. No doubt they would have considered checking Nicole’s apartment at the time because of her involvement, but the search would have been focused on him, and they had to know that he would not linger once he had escaped. He had taken Sandra with him as far as they knew. He shook his head finally. “We will not discover more here, and it is useless only to

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speculate when we are agreed that it seems most likely that they were taken by the authorities. If that is the case, the sooner we get them out, the better I will like it. “We can only search at night if we are to lessen the risk of being captured ourselves and that being the case, we can come here to stay during the day, which will put us here at the time when it is most likely Nicole or Sandra would return if they are able to.” The prison wasn’t hard to find. It had the look of a prison—tall walls lined the perimeter with guards atop the towers that stood at four corners and razor sharp, coiled wire topped the walls. Getting in was also not a problem for them since they were a winged race and the humans were not and therefore no preventive measures had been taken for such a thing. Getting in without being seen was another matter. The surroundings were well lit—lit almost to a daylight brightness, and beyond the fixed lights there were other lights that rotated to examine the few areas cast into shadow. Dodging the rotating lights, Luc and Azael peered into the windows they could to see what they could and finally withdrew. “This will get us no where,” Azael said in disgust. Luc was thoughtful. “They have walled in a space. Obviously it is to allow the prisoners to walk outside. We will have to find a place to observe and wait and watch until they allow the prisoners to walk in the compound.” The search for a place that would give them a vantage point turned up more than either had expected. Luc hadn’t paid much attention to the huge flickering screens on many of the buildings until he began his search for one that was high enough to give them a view over the prison wall and close enough they might be able to identify Nicole and Sandra. The images caught his attention as he scanned the buildings, though. More accurately, the image of Nicole that flashed onto one screen caught his attention. He froze, hovering mid-air as he stared at the screen. Her image disappeared, replaced by another woman, who was speaking, although he couldn’t hear what it was she was saying. After a moment, though, the woman’s image was replaced with another image—this one of both Nicole and Sandra. A succession of images followed, showing Nicole and Sandra wearing identical clothing, their wrists in manacles behind their backs. Clearly, they had guessed right and Nicole and Sandra had been taken by the authorities, but without being able to hear what was being said, they were still only guessing. Disappointment and frustration filled Luc as the images were replaced with something else entirely. “The woman’s lips were moving,” he growled in irritation. “Why could we not hear? What would be the point of her speaking?” “None,” Azael agreed grimly. “It must be only these that have the images but no sound. There are others.” Luc scanned the city streets and studied the people clustering around similar screens. There was no way they could simply join the throngs, however. They would be instantly discovered when they looked so different from the humans. Finally noticing that there were darkened alleys near some of the screens, they selected one near a screen and descended, moving stealthily down the alley on foot. It was nearly an hour before the story was repeated. That time they managed to hear most of what of what was said, despite the noises of traffic, both foot traffic and vehicles. When they’d learned all that they could, they moved back down the alley and then flew up to land on top of one of the buildings. “The images did not look like the prison we found,” Luc concluded. They spent hours crisscrossing the city in search of a building that looked like the image

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and finally concluded that it wasn’t in the city. Since there was no longer any point in returning to Nicole’s apartment, they left the domed city the same way they’d entered, through a broken vent near the peak of the dome. Certain the prison must still be close by, they began to search in wider and wider circles away from the city. Three days later they finally found the prison they were looking for and settled to study it. Like the first prison they’d found, it had a yard that was obviously designed to allow the prisoners out for short periods of time. The artificial lighting prevented them from seeing much more than they’d been able to with the other prison, but they checked the windows they could, hopeful of finding Nicole or Sandra or both of the women. Disappointed when they didn’t but not greatly surprised, they withdrew to find a place nearby to plan their assault.

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Chapter Twelve She hadn’t struggled and although Lucifer thought it unlikely she would given her precarious position and the fact that she could not fly, he shifted Nicky in his arms as soon as he was certain the authorities had not yet managed to get one of their flying machines into the air, determined to subdue her if necessary. She clutched at him as he turned her to face him, instantly throwing her arms around his neck and clinging so tightly to him he thought for a moment she would strangle him. She was terrified. He coiled his arms around her to support her more fully, hoping that it would ease some of her fear. Either it did, or she simply didn’t have the strength to maintain the iron grip she had on him. After a time, her tight hold eased. It tightened again as the sound reached them of an engine. Luc glanced at Azael, who was flying nearby, waited until Azael looked toward him and used his head to jerk a signal to follow. Tilting his wings, he allowed himself to plummet toward the ground in an almost vertical descent. Nicky let out a muffled whimper against his neck and clung tighter. He stroked the back of her head soothingly. “I will not drop you, love.” He had no idea whether she heard him or not over the rush of air around them, or whether it soothed her even if she had. He tightened his grip on her, however, as he banked sharply and skimmed lower and lower to the ground. The craft spotted them and gave chase. It moved far faster than he could, but that wasn’t an advantage to them in giving chase. They had to slow to match Luc and Azael’s speed, and when they did their engines stalled and the machine plummeted toward the ground like a rock. He had to climb sharply to avoid the debris that shot out in every direction as the thing crashed and exploded into a ball of fire. The second and third crafts weren’t as easily shaken. They followed determinedly, firing strafing laser bolts while Luc and Azael dipped, dropped, shot skyward, and finally began to loop through the air. Their maneuverability finally proved too much for the men flying the crafts. The two pilots, apparently more focused on Luc and Azael than where they were going, finally collided mid-air. The collision was far closer than the previous one. A flying piece of debris sliced across Luc’s thigh. Another piece slammed into his back. Pain instantly blinded him. The blow to his back knocked the breath out of him. He faltered, dipped toward the ground for several moments, and finally managed to throw off the pain enough to focus on staying aloft. Nicole, he discovered, was quietly weeping. He searched her a little frantically for wounds. “Are you hurt, love?” he asked sharply when he couldn’t feel any sign of blood. She shook her head, but he was only marginally relieved because he wasn’t completely convinced. Azael, he saw when he finally turned his attention to searching for the others, hadn’t fared any better than he had. Blood was trickling from his forehead and one arm. Blood trickled along Sandra’s back, as well, but he couldn’t tell if it was Azael’s blood or hers. “Sandra is hurt,” Azael called out when he managed to fly close enough to speak.

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“I’m alright,” Sandra said shakily before Luc could ask how badly. He met Azael’s gaze above her head, but both of them knew they couldn’t spare the time to stop and check on anyone’s injuries. Instead, they soared upward until they could survey the terrain and ascertain the direction they needed to go, and then dropped low again to try to avoid the flying machines they knew were bound to follow, racing toward the only place they’d found between the prison and the wormhole where they might conceivably hole up until darkness fell. The rocky, desert landscape was virtually flat and featureless, but they’d located a shallow ravine that appeared to have once been a stream and a rocky outcropping that provided some cover from the sky. They’d spent the days while they were waiting for the opportunity to free Nicole and Sandra hollowing the space out beneath the rock to provide them with more shelter and pilfered food and water to leave there against need. Relief filled Luc when he saw they’d reached their goal. Beyond the fact that it had been absolutely vital that they reach it without having the authorities breathing down their necks in order to make use of it, his back and thigh both felt as if they were on fire. Alighting on the soft sand at the bottom of the ravine, he strode quickly toward their shelter. Nicole stirred, apparently becoming aware that they’d landed on the ground. He caught a fistful of her hair as she lifted her head, tipping her head back and kissing her until he felt the tension go out of her. Her eyes were glazed as he settled her in the shade of the rock. He stroked her cheek, regretting the need to subdue her even though he realized he couldn’t afford to do anything else. Sighing, he turned his attention to his wounds, inspecting his thigh first since he couldn’t reach his back. The cut was still bleeding fairly freely, though whatever had cut him didn’t seem to have lodged in the wound. He glanced absently at Azael and Sandra as they joined him, but he was more focused on finding something to bind the wound and stop the bleeding. He would be too weak to fly them both to safety, he knew, if he lost too much blood. There was nothing to use for a binding beyond the clothes they wore, and, since he was wearing no more than his loincloth and leggings, he turned to study Nicole again. “Sorry love. I have need of something to bind this with,” he murmured, pulling his dagger from its sheathe and slicing the leg of her pants from the ankle to about mid-thigh before he tore it off and began tearing it into strips. “Is she hurt?” Sandra asked. Luc shook his head. “I examined her as soon as we had landed.” Sandra frowned. “You did the whammy thing, didn’t you?” she said accusingly. Luc glared at her. “She was frightened.” She sent him a disbelieving look, but instead of saying anything else, turned her head to look back Azael, who was studying her back. “It has stopped bleeding,” Azael announced. “I told you I wasn’t hurt. Now, let me look at you.” She winced as she examined his forehead and then his arm. “You need a bandage. Give me Nicky’s other pants leg,” she ordered Luc imperiously. When she glanced at him, she saw he was glaring at her. “Use your own,” he growled. She plunked her hand on her hip. “You already took one. She’s uneven. Besides, she won’t mind, will you, Nicky?” Luc narrowed his eyes on her. “You know very well she can not speak.” “Or defend herself,” Sandra snapped. “So don’t give me that bullshit about doing that to her just because she was scared. I know why you did it and she does, too. She just can’t do

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anything about it.” Luc reddened. “Your woman talks too much,” he growled at Azael. Azael studied him a moment and shrugged. Catching Sandra behind the neck with one hand, he dragged her close and kissed her. She didn’t try to struggle until the last moment, when it finally dawned on her what he was up to, and by then it was too late. He stroked her cheek when he had settled her back against the ground. “I love you woman, but you can not be talking. Sound carries too far here. You will give away our position.” He glanced at Luc when he’d helped himself to the leg of her pants to bind his own wounds. Amusement flickered in his eyes. “I suppose you realize that she will be very angry with me once I release her.” Luc shrugged. “They can not object to going with us, however, and I do not think we can spare the time to convince them it will be better for them.” “There is that,” Azael agreed, looking Luc over. “You only have the one wound?” “There is something in my back, but I can not reach it,” Luc admitted. Azael motioned for him to turn around and examined it, pulling out a piece of metal. Luc twisted his head to look back at him. “Is it bad?” “It did not seem to go deep. Are you having difficulty breathing?” “It knocked the breath from me when it went in, but I do not feel any problem with my lungs.” Azael bent to study the wound closer and finally nodded. “It is not bleeding much. I do not think it needs to be bound. The metal has broken one of your wing bones,” he added after a moment. “I noticed,” Luc said dryly. “It hurts like a son-of-a-bitch, but there is no way to bind it—not here.” “It is only a short bone near the spine, but you will need to have it seen to when we are back else you may find it interferes with flying. I think it caught the brunt of the missile else it would have gone deeper.” “Your wounds are minor?” Azael nodded. “Neither are deep. I can make it without any trouble. I have the headache from hell, but we did well all things considered.” He studied Luc a moment. “Why not rest with your lady, sir? I can take first watch.” Luc nodded instead of arguing. He was far more fatigued than he should have been and knew it was because of the blood he’d lost. Settling on his side beside Nicky, he pulled her into his arms and lay studying her face for a time before he finally leaned toward her, kissed her again to make certain she slept, and then closed his eyes to rest. It was nearing dusk when Luc startled awake, uncertain what had awakened him other than his subconscious warning him that he’d slept too long and too deeply. Nicky, he discovered, was watching him. Her gaze was clear, and uneasiness instantly engulfed him. She lifted a hand and placed her fingertips against his lips when he leaned toward her. He paused, almost as disconcerted by that as he was when she removed her fingers and lifted to meet him, pressing her lips to his. Heated desire instantly washed through him. He struggled against it as he accepted her offering, opening his mouth over hers. For several moments, he seesawed, waging a battle between desire and reason. In the end it was the sound of Azael and Sandra behind him that pushed reason to the fore. He lifted his head, studied her with a mixture of confusion and desire

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for several moments, and finally sat up. “You should have awakened me to take my turn at watch,” he said quietly. Azael shrugged. “You were hurt worse. You needed the rest more than I.” Luc gave him a look but decided there was no point in trying to dispute it. He wouldn’t have slept so long or so deeply if he hadn’t needed the rest. “Any sign of the hostiles?” he asked instead. “Several of their flying machines, but only one came this way, and they did not drop low enough to present a threat.” Luc surveyed their surroundings. “There is time enough, yet, for you to rest a little while.” “I am ready to go now. I will rest when we are home,” Azael said grimly. “I will not risk taking Sandra into another battle if it can be avoided. It was only that fortune favored us that she was not hurt worse.” Accepting Azael’s assurance that he would have no problem with the flight, Luc got up to gather their supplies. When he’d secured them and made certain the pack would not shift and cause him problems in flight, he scooped Nicole into his arms. The burning in his back and thigh commenced immediately. The pain in his wing made itself known the moment he became airborne. Through long practice, he turned his mind from the pain, but as the night wore on it became harder and harder to ignore, for they didn’t dare take a direct path to their destination. The hostiles were still scanning the desert for any sign of them—no doubt searching for the craft they believed they could find even if they could not find them. They managed to avoid another confrontation, but Luc was never more glad of anything than when their goal was finally in sight. It took a supreme effort to struggle onward in flight instead of dropping to the ground and walking the remaining distance, but despite the pain in his wing, he knew his leg was no better—in fact worse, and would likely give out on him. The worst of the ordeal came when they had reached the area where the wormhole would open and knew they could do nothing but wait and hope they wouldn’t be spotted before it appeared. The drone of engines alerted them to the nearness of the searchers as the sky began to lighten. Luc and Azael scanned the horizon worriedly, wondering if their efforts would come to naught, wondering if they would have to take a stand and fight in the open with no cover to protect them or their women. Dragging his gaze from the machines he could just discern in the distance, Luc looked down at Nicole. “I can not leave you here, love,” he murmured when he saw that she was awake and studying him. “It is not safe for you here. I know my world is no safe place for you either, but at least if you are with me I can protect you.” She lifted a hand and settled it on his hard cheek. “I want to go with you,” she murmured. He uttered a ragged sigh of relief and tightened his hold on her briefly. “Then hold on, love, and when I tell you, breathe deeply.” As dawn broke, the wormhole opened. With a sense of profound relief, Luc gathered Nicky tightly to him and ran. **** Nicole woke to the feel of Luc’s hand coasting lightly over her belly. Her disorientation was fleeting, however. Unlike the time before, Luc had had a skimmer hidden and waiting for them when they had arrived on Nardyl. They’d gone directly to it upon their arrival and flown to the city—unchallenged to Nicole’s relief. Exhausted, they’d parted ways with Sandra and Azael

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and gone straight to Luc’s quarters, settling together in his narrow bunk and dropping to sleep almost immediately—much to her disappointment. He seemed disconcerted when he glanced up after studying the faint mound of her belly for several moments and discovered that she was watching him. “You still carry my son,” he said after a moment, his voice sounding rough with some emotion she couldn’t quite identify. “Is that why they imprisoned you?” “They hadn’t discovered it yet.” He frowned. Returning his attention to her belly, he kneaded it gently with his fingertips. “You did not have time to rid yourself of it?” Nicole felt her heart squeeze in her chest. “I couldn’t do it.” He looked at her sharply at that. After a moment, he shifted, lowering his head to kiss her. She lifted a hand to press her fingers against his lips. “You don’t need to do that.” She sat up when he drew back to study her face, pushing at his shoulder until he rolled onto his back, though she could see wariness in his eyes, and doubt. Desire banished both as she climbed astride his waist and leaned down to brush her lips lightly along the bridge of his nose and then back and forth for a moment along his lips before she traced a path across his hard cheek to his ear. “I love you, Lucifer Blackhardt,” she whispered. He stiffened. Smiling faintly, she nipped at his ear lobe. “Now—lie still while I show you how much.” His eyes were tumultuous with conflicting emotions when she lifted her head to look at his face. “It’s an Earth custom,” she told him when she saw the question in his eyes, though it wasn’t something she’d ever done. A gleam of interest lit his eyes. Satisfied that he wouldn’t interfere, she settled to exploring him with her hands and lips. It was a heady experience, empowering and humbling at the same time to discover her touch could give him so much pleasure and that giving him pleasure magnified her own so much. Warmth flushed her skin as she caressed his, enjoying the silky smoothness of his flesh against her palms and fingertips, the tautness of the muscles it sheathed. Warmth invaded her all the way to her core as she nibbled and sucked at his skin with her lips and tongue, drinking in the taste and scent of him that she found so pleasing. The warmth became heat as it curled low in her belly, building to encompass all of her, and she felt drunk with the stirring of it in her mind, high with building euphoria. His expression was wary when she looked up from exploring his belly. Holding his gaze, she curled a hand around his cock and stroked it. His eyelids lowered to shutter his eyes, but she could see the heated need in them. Pushing herself backwards carefully along his thighs to avoid his wound, she stroked her hand slowly up and down his length and reached to gently cup and massage his testicles with the other. It drew a breathless grunt from him, and she hesitated for a moment, trying to decide if he liked it or not. He didn’t try to push her hand away or avoid her touch, however, and she decided he liked it. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it as she leaned lower and opened her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking at it experimentally. A jolt went through him. The breath he’d taken left his lungs in a harsh grunt as if she’d punched him in the belly. His hand came down on the back of her head, his fingers curling into her hair. She lifted her head to look at him questioningly but saw he was no longer looking at her. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face contorted as if with agony—pleasurable agony she decided, lowering her head again to suck on the knob of flesh, enjoying the taste of it, the silky smoothness against her tongue. The heady sense of power and pleasure she’d felt before intensified rapidly as she caressed his cock with her hand and mouth and felt and heard his

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response in his rasping breath and the jerking tremors that went through him as he struggled to hold still beneath her. Creamy moisture flooded her channel as her body responded instinctually to the rhythm of her caress of his flesh, the walls contracting in restless anticipation for the feel of him inside of her. The need to feel his hard flesh filling her grew stronger the longer she stroked and sucked at him until she was torn by the urge to mount him and her heady enjoyment of torturing his sensitive flesh. As she felt the tension grow in him, though, felt his struggle for control in his movements and realized that he was fighting the urge to seize control, she released him and rose up on her knees to position her body above his cock. He caught her, half rising as if he would tip her onto her back. Unwilling to give up control, she pressed down until she felt the mouth of her sex engulf the head of his cock. Surprise flickered in his eyes briefly, but he subsided, dropping back against the pillows and lifting his hips to meet her push. She lifted and settled, taking more of him inside of her each time until she’d taken all of him and her buttocks settled against his thighs. She paused for a moment to savor it, to relish the deep connection. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he was watching her. He reached down to stroke her clit and then guided his anterior cock to attach to it. A shiver rippled through her as she felt the delicious suction of it against her. Letting out a shaky breath, she leaned forward to brace her hands on either side of his chest and began to rock back and forth to achieve the stroking motion they both needed to bring them to culmination. The rough stroke of his nubby cock along her channel was exquisite torment. She groaned as the twin jolts of delight went through her with the stimulation of her clit and caress of his cock inside of her at the same time, squeezing her eyes shut and allowing her head to drop forward. The sense of impending release grew rapidly inside of her as she undulated her hips to control the depth and pace of his penetration. Anticipation churned in her, made her breathless with feverish need as she strove to reach the pinnacle. A groan escaped her as she felt the first wave of rapture wash through her. She stilled. Luc’s hands tightened on her hips, lifting her and then drawing her down over his cock again and again until she was shaking and gasping with the exquisite jolts of her climax. He coiled his arms around her abruptly, holding her tightly against his body as he rolled with her. A hiss of pain escaped him with the movement as it jarred his wounds, but the sound had barely registered in Nicole’s mind when he began to thrust into her in hard, desperate lunges that brought him swiftly to his own release. Braced on his arms, he hovered above her as his body jerked and spasmed, heaving for breath, grunting with each convulsion that pumped his seed into her until at last he dragged in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Nicky,” he murmured raggedly, nuzzling his face against her neck. **** Nicole winced slightly as they stepped from the building where Luc was quartered. Luc sent her a look of concern, apparently realized why she’d winced, and then amusement joined the look of empathy and maybe a smidgen of male pride in his accomplishment. “It is your own fault,” he murmured in a whisper, shaky with suppressed laughter, near her ear. She slid a glance of amused tolerance at him. “Exactly how do you figure that?” He shrugged. “You tormented me far too long.” A touch of female pride invaded her. “Really?” Tell me more! He straightened and grinned at her. “Woman! You know exactly what you did!”

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Nicole chuckled, pleased with the notion that he thought she’d been hard to catch, when the truth was far from it! “Maybe you’ll appreciate me more,” she said. His amusement died. He shifted to face her, caressing her cheek. “I could not possibly appreciate you more … or love you more.” So much love and relief filled her she felt as if her heart swelled in her chest. “I know I didn’t give you a choice, but I swear you will not regret coming with me. I know this place is …. It is not what I would want for you and our child, but I will make it better—safe. I will provide you with a comfortable life. I swear it.” Moved more than she could say by his promise, she stepped closer, resting her cheek on his chest. “I did have a choice,” she murmured. “I wanted to come. I would’ve come before if they hadn’t arrested me and Sandra. We’d already planned to deliver the serum and come back.” He pulled away and studied her face searchingly. “You had?” he asked, uncertainty threading his voice. Nicole smiled wryly. “I didn’t want to go back there to start with. I knew I had to take the serum back, but … you didn’t give me the chance to tell you I wanted to stay with you. I thought …. When you sent me back, I thought you didn’t care about me.” Lucifer squeezed his eyes closed in a pained expression, realizing how closely he’d come to losing her when it was nothing but his wounded pride standing in his way. If he hadn’t begun to fear for her safety …. It didn’t bear thinking of. “Gods! I made a hell of a mess of things, Nicky!” he muttered, pulling her into a tight embrace at the images that tormented him. “We both did, but it’s alright now. We’re together, and that’s all I care about.” Reluctantly, he pulled away from her after a few moments. “I had intended to show you our new quarters. If we keep this up, they may be finished before we get the chance to inspect it.” Nicole slipped an arm around his waist. “Then let’s go inspect the new quarters very quickly and go back to your place,” she said teasingly. **** Uneasiness stirred in Nicole as their escort, instead of halting at the walled gates before them, unfurled their wings and soared over it. She chewed her lower lip, wondering if she should follow or wait outside the gates in the skimmer. Lucifer, who was leading the group, hadn’t told her to wait. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all. She’d noted a tension in him as they approached the walled estate that she couldn’t quite fathom, though, and there was a harshness to his features she wasn’t accustomed to seeing that made her uneasy. He hadn’t expected any real threat when they had left the city to tour this area of the country, she knew. Otherwise he would never have allowed her to come. Recovery from the devastation of the plague had been agonizingly slow. It would take generations, everyone knew, before the world, or at least Heillius, saw real prosperity again, but Luc had, with grim and unrelenting determination, brought order out of chaos in the years since. Beginning with the capitol city, Hail, he had rebuilt the army as he had rebuilt the city and then spread outward from there, taking in the countryside, and then villages and towns one by one, and restoring order. Heillius was still under martial law—the recovery hadn’t gone so far as appointing, or electing, a civilian ruling body to replace the monarchy—and they probably wouldn’t see an end to it in their life time, but in much of the country it was now possible for the survivors to begin rebuilding their lives.

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“What’s Papa doing?” Nicole glanced at Nei, forcing a faint smile. “I don’t know, sweety.” The gates opened almost as she spoke. Taking it to mean she was cleared to enter, she eased the skimmer carefully forward until it cleared the gates and then shut the engine off, allowing it to settle to the ground. “Stay put, pumpkin,” she ordered her son as she opened the door and got out. A stranger was striding quickly toward the troop of men as she reached Lucifer’s side. He didn’t glance at her, but he acknowledged her presence by draping an arm over her shoulders and drawing her close. His attention was focused on the man, though, and she felt the tension in him. Unnerved, she studied the man striding toward them, as well. He was tall, well built as most Saitrens, and handsome. There was something vaguely familiar about his face, she noticed as he came closer and finally halted little more than an arm’s length from Lucifer. She glanced from the stranger’s face to Lucifer’s. “You look well,” Lucifer said, his voice sounding strangely hoarse with emotions she couldn’t begin to interpret. The stranger let out a harsh breath and surged forward. Releasing her abruptly, Lucifer reached for the man even as he clasped his arms about Lucifer. “Father!” A jolt went through Nicole. A tightness swelled in her chest as she watched the two men embrace, but a sense of discomfort flickered through her, too, the sense of being an outsider. A small arm encircled her thigh, dragging her attention from her mate. “What’s papa doing?” Nei asked in a loud whisper. Nicole frowned at her son in displeasure. “Didn’t I tell you to wait in the skimmer?” she scolded him. Uttering a shaky chuckle, Lucifer pulled away from the stranger and leaned down to scoop Nei into his arms. “Another time and I would dust your backside for ignoring your mother,” he said in a chiding voice, settling the boy on one arm and looping his arm across Nicole’s shoulders. “This is your brother, Lucien. Nicky, my son, Lucien.” Too stunned to speak, Nicole glanced from one man to the other again, realizing the sense of recognition she’d felt was the resemblance between father and son, and she still had trouble grasping it. They looked the same age! Lucien seemed almost as stunned as she was as he looked her over and then Nei. “Brother, huh?” Lucien said, a slow smile curling his lips. “He’s my brother?” Nei asked suspiciously. “Why is he old?” “Nei!” Nicole exclaimed, feeling embarrassment heat her cheeks. “That is so rude!” Lucien chuckled. “I have forgotten my own manners.” Taking Nicole’s limp hand, he lifted it to his lips, just brushing them across her knuckles. “I can not imagine why such a beautiful woman would have my father, but I can not dispute his good taste.” Amusement flickered through Nicole. She saw when she glanced at Lucifer that he was grinning at her proudly, though, not the least insulted by his son’s remark. Lucien released her hand. “Come inside. I want you to meet my family.” The pride and joy in his voice was clearly evident. Lucifer sent him a startled look but merely slipped his arm around Nicky again and urged her forward as he followed Lucien around the huge mansion toward the back. “I didn’t know we were coming to meet your son,” she chided Lucifer in a quiet voice.

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His smiled faltered. “I did not know it myself. I thought he had perished.” Nicole tightened her arm around him in empathy, forgiving him instantly for not having spoken to her about Lucien before. The vague sense of dread that had arisen at the discovery still plagued her, though. “You don’t look old enough to have a son his age,” she whispered. Lucifer stared at her, feeling his face heat with discomfort. The vague suspicion that there was a vast difference in the lifespan of Saitrens and humans had not really bothered him until he’d come to realize how much Nicky meant to him, come to realize that, in time, it would matter a great deal—to him. By then it had been far too late to even consider the possibility of choosing a different path, though. In truth, he thought there had never really been a choice for him. He had crossed worlds to find the mate of his heart, his true soul mate, and part of him had recognized her instantly—even during those dark days when he wasn’t certain from one moment to the next whether he hated her or wanted her more. He’d come to terms with the knowledge long since, though, realized that whatever time he had with her was more precious than a thousand years without her would be. There would be no life without her, only existence—and he would not choose that. When her time came, he would go with her. To consider going on without her was unthinkable, and once he had accepted that, he had simply put it from his mind. He hadn’t once considered telling her. He sent her a sheepish look, cleared his throat uncomfortably, and then decided not to comment. Now was certainly not the time to discuss it. Never would be better. “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” “It does not matter—does it?” Nicole stared at him for a long moment. “No. It doesn’t.” He seemed relieved. His tension returned, though, as they entered Lucien’s home. A shock wave went through Nicole as she stared at the woman waiting inside and saw immediately that she was an Earth woman like herself. She looked to be about the same age as her. The woman smiled in a friendly, if faintly nervous way. “Hello! I’m Tessa and this is our son, Lucifer,” she said, indicating the baby she had on one hip. Nicole felt the jolt that went through Lucifer. He glanced sharply at his son. “You named him …?” Lucien grinned. “For you. Tessa, this is my father, Lucifer, his mate, Nicky, and my little brother, Nei.” Tessa looked as stunned and confused as they were, Nicole thought wryly, uncertain of how she felt about Lucifer having a grandson and feeling vaguely resentful that the child had been named after her mate when she’d been toying with the idea of naming her next son after him. Of course, she thought, settling one palm lovingly on her belly, Lucifer had informed her that he’d given her a daughter this time, and she had a feeling it was more than just his male ego talking. They all settled in the living area, uncomfortable and trying hard to overcome it. Nei and little Luc managed it within a few moments while the adults were still stumbling over stilted commonplaces. “What’s he doin’?” Nei demanded after watching baby Luc butt the leg of the couch several times and then begin rubbing his head back and forth against it. Nicole stared at the baby for a moment and felt warmth and amusement invade her. “Oh look, Luc! He’s cutting his horns!” she said, thoroughly charmed as it brought back memories of

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Nei’s own babyhood. “Isn’t that just adorable!” Lucifer and Lucien exchanged a look and began to laugh. Nicole glanced at them in bemusement. “What?” Lucifer slipped his arm around her, dragging her close to nuzzle his face lovingly against hers. “You are adorable. I love you, Nicky.” She blushed, both from pleasure and discomfort at their audience, but lifted her hand to stroke his hard cheek. “Not as much as I love you.” He chuckled. “I love you more.” “Alright,” Lucien said, laughter threading his voice. “Break it up or take it to the bedchamber.” “Aw!” Nei exclaimed irritably. “Not again! We won’t never get to do anything fun!” The comment silenced everyone in the room for a handful seconds and then all four adults started laughing. “Come here, Nei,” Lucien commanded him. “You and I need to have a brotherly discussion.”

The End