The Baylan Chronicles: DRACE (A sci-fi alien romance) Page 7
Drace released the other man, who lowered his chin in a slight bow. Drace and he shared a brief embrace, then Drace strode to Rachel’s hiding place. His eyes were flinty and his strong jaw clenched as he scooped her into his arms. He claimed her mouth in a blistering hot kiss that turned her legs to jelly and her brain to mush. She fisted her fingers into this hair and kissed him back. He tasted of fire and power and metal.
His body vibrated in the immediate aftermath of fighting. His arms banded around her, shaking with an emotion she couldn't name.
He broke the kiss and peered into her eyes. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, too breathless to speak. She could feel desperation in the taut fingers tangling in her hair and the tang of fear on his lips, and then the pieces clicked into place. He hadn't been merely concerned about her, he'd been half out of his mind. His eyes swam bright, silver-blue, flooded with relief. She cupped his cheek. "I always seem to be okay when I'm with you."
His jaw relaxed. He was leaning forward to kiss her again, when throat clearing sounded behind them. Rachel peered around Drace’s wide shoulders to see the golden-haired man who had come to Drace’s aid.
He folded his massive arms and gazed down at her curiously. Amused eyes travelled leisurely over her, then to the new soul markings on Drace’s chest. "This one is yours, then?” he asked Drace.
Drace wrapped an arm in a possessive way around her waist. "She is."
Bristling, Rachel tipped up her chin. “I belong to myself, thank you.”
"The stars sent you a challenge.” The man chuckled.
"Indeed." Drace turned a frown on her. "What's this I hear about me not being your boyfriend?"
She pointed at the two men on the ground. "We just nearly died and you're worried about that?"
"We did not almost die," he said in his deep, accented voice. He dipped his forehead to hers. “And yes, I don’t care to hear my mate deny our connection.”
Her teeth gritted. “I’m not your mate.”
The long-haired Baylan let out a hoot of laughter. "Ah, Drace Dal-Allean, what a match you’ve found."
Her blood still raced. She swung around and pinned the blonde Baylan with a hard gaze. ”Just who are you, anyway?"
"Rachel, this is Raze." Drace said. "He's the fleet's high commander."
"High commander?" Her brows rose. "But he bowed to you. What does that make you? Don't even tell me you're a prince or something."
Drace grinned. “Actually, king is the closest term in your language that defines my role on my ship, the Raplan-B. A Saar-king is the highest authority on a ship, although the role involves much more responsibility than your present day royalty. I am of ruling blood. Raze is of combat blood." He pointed to a line of ornate markings trailing from between his collarbones down to his navel. "Our soul markings map out our lives––show our strengths, weaknesses, and the paths our lives will take.”
Rachel shook her head. She didn't––couldn't––believe in destiny. She'd made choices––good ones and bad ones. All of them had brought her from the Midwest up to New England to the Linville RediCare Clinic, and to Drace. "So what happens now?"
"The two of you must leave.” Raze cast his gaze to the sky. "Before more come for you."
"You're staying here?" she asked.
"I won't leave without the rest of my team, who are presently scattered throughout the region.” He turned to Drace. "Draw up your ship. I'll keep watch over your female."
She tamped down annoyance. Clearly, he’d been in the woods, either alone or with a bunch of men for a long time. “Call me Rachel, please,” she said stiffly. “Earth women are no one’s ‘female.’”
Raze frowned. "You're under Drace's protection. That makes you his fe—”
“Not a wise course, brother." Drace cut him a warning look before striding to the lake, where just the top dome of the ship remained above the water.
Raze peered at Rachel as if puzzled by her very presence. "Stay where I can see you.”
She heaved a sigh but stayed put. She watched as Drace placed his hands in the water and the ship rose again.
"The combat class does not need to be in physical contact, or have a conductor like water, to control metal." Raze was also watching Drace. "We control it with our minds."
At the unexpected info share, Rachel’s brows rose. “Interesting.”
"But the ruling class can strategize instantly,” he went on. “They can picture the entire fleet, see weaknesses and strengths, and make good decisions quickly. We are still a people because Saar-leaders have made the correct choices for the fleet."
Rachel bit her lip to hide a smile. Maybe Raze wasn’t such a brute after all. He sounded proud and protective of his Saar-king.
She watched the ship rise from the water and glide to shore. The beach was narrow, and so the craft hovered silently above the trees, its smooth metal hull bending the taller ones. A column of white light extended from the center bottom. Drace stood in the middle of it. He turned to her and held out a hand.
"That's your ride, woman." Raze pressed his fingers to the small of her back, urging her forward.
She resisted the pressure on her back. Her mouth was dry, her feet leaden. "I don't know..."
"You don't know what?" He scowled. "Get on that shuttle or I will put you on it."
She stepped from his reach, not that it would help. "I'm afraid if I get on that thing, I'll never come back."
"Your life has changed, whether you stay here or go with Drace. If you stay on this planet, you'll be treated with cruelty. They have evidence from the room you two shared last night that you fornicated with him.” He tapped the side of his head. "I can listen to their radio communications. One of my many talents.”
Fornicated again? What was with that word? Neither of them had an idea how terrifying this was. No matter the intense connection she felt toward Drace, the thought of leaving the planet with a man she met only two days ago paralyzed her. She’d run off with men before, and this was by far more extreme than any of the other disastrous times. “I can’t do this. Not again,” she whispered to herself.
In the distance, the whomp-whomp of rotors became a roar. An army of helicopters was approaching.
Raze looked skyward again. "I can't hold back all of them," he said with a touch of weariness. "You have to go."
She didn't move and Drace lowered his hand. His brilliant eyes watched her. The scales in her mind swung in vicious arcs. Stay or go. Both held appeal. Both held danger.
Drace stepped back into the column of light, seeming to sense her reluctance. "I said you had a choice. But I also said I would not allow you to come to harm." He grabbed her around the waist and jerked her against him. She felt the thump of his heart under her hand. The warmth of his body. His strong arm around her.
The column of light surrounded her and immediately began drawing the two of them upwards into the belly of the craft. Wait! a voice inside her cried, but there was no breaking from the beam. The white light made it too bright to see. She shielded her eyes against Drace's chest as her heart hammered a frantic beat.
She was afraid to go inside this shuttle, but she was also afraid of Dept. 6. Her body glided effortlessly upwards, as if buoyed on a wave. A moment later, she stood on a solid floor. Drace held her close.
The shuttle interior was sleek. Every surface gently glowed, illuminating the spare, open space in soft, clean white. They stood behind a console, positioned in the center of the ship. Drace leaned away from her to touch the wide curved screen. A strip of wall became transparent. Her relief at being able to see outside ended with a gasp. A half dozen or more helicopters bore down on them. "Do they have guns?"
"Yes." Drace's fingers glided with expertise over the screen. Words in a language and alphabet she didn't know scrolled furiously in a rainbow of colors. "Don't worry. They can't hit us."
"They can't? But I think that one has––oh my God, it’s a rocket launcher."
"It's okay."
&
nbsp; Okay? Was he crazy? The helicopters opened fire. Rachel yelped and threw her arms over her head. The expected sound of bullets pinging off the hull didn't come. The only sound inside the cabin was the gentle hum of what might be a fan. She peeked through her hands to see bullets striking with the force of a moth against a window. They slid off the hull like rain, not making a dent.
"What is this thing made of?" she asked.
“Diranium––an alloy not available on Earth. All our ships are made from it."
"But what about––"
A rocket arced toward the ship and exploded against the side. Rachel covered her eyes again, but the ship didn't budge. The rocket released a burst but its fire winked out.
"Wow," she breathed.
The helicopters opened fire, unloading everything they had at the shuttle. Drace stood there, arms crossed, quietly watching the barrage.
"Why are we staying here?"
He observed the attack with dispassionate eyes. "To make a point. We're not here to fight them, but they need to know their weapons are useless against us. It will save many lives and a great deal of time if they grasp that early on."
"They." She turned to him. "You know you're talking about my people as if they’re mice."
His lips compressed and color flushed his cheeks. "To us, they are mice, Rachel. Overbreeding, unintelligent life forms that are destroying their beautiful planet."
Her belly clenched. “Is that how you see me?"
"Of course not," he said, clearly missing the snarl in her voice. "You're mine."
Her stomach knotted further. Did he have any idea how awful his words sounded? How frightening they were? “Would you take me back if I asked?”
He hesitated, and then slapped a hand to the console. “I won't apologize for bringing you on board, and I can't take you back right now." His voice snapped, apparently along with his patience. "They would lock you up, do things to you that I promise would make you envy any laboratory mouse. I won't allow that. And you are not so foolish to willingly pay that heavy a price just to stay on your planet."
No, she wasn’t. Nor was she immune to the panic rising in her throat at being swept away, potentially forever, to a place she knew nothing about. She was aware of the circumstances, but Drace couldn’t understand how paralyzing this was for her, trapped on a space ship––yes, trapped––by a man who held her fate in his hands.
Rachel had vowed that no man would control her fate again, but here she was, about to zoom off to a place where she was the alien. For a woman who worked hard to keep her feet on the ground and lived on her own terms, everything had spiraled out of her control.
Suddenly, the floor went transparent. Her belly hollowed out. She flailed for his arm, fearing that he would literally drop her out of the shuttle. It looked and felt as if she stood on air watching Earth beneath her feet. Vertigo further froze her in place and squeezed a small cry from her lips. Sweat slicked her back as panic dug in its claws.
"I can't––" She squeezed her eyes shut as she sank to the floor, which thankfully still felt solid. "I can't believe you’re...abducting me like this."
Drace scowled, and then turned his attention to the controls. "We'll talk later," he said. "On my ship."
On my ship.
So that was it. So much for choices.
She was at his mercy.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Drace was truly baffled by Rachel. His first priority was to get his shuttle out of Earth's atmosphere and into space as quickly as he could. He was mentally linked to the controls, which saved time, as there were dozens of things that needed to be done before the small craft could enter space. He mentally ticked off each task one by one, and as he thought them, the ship performed them. It didn't take a long time, but gave the helicopters plenty of time to pepper the shuttle with bullets. The bullets were nothing. His only worry was that they might be scanning the shuttle. Still he couldn't imagine they were learning much. Human technology was primitive. So he waited. When the gunfire paused, he let out a single thought and the craft went from a complete stop to a swift vertical ascent through the clouds. It moved faster than Dept. 6’s equipment could track. If they were tracking.
When they were free of Earth’s heat shield and safely in the vacuum of space, he looked back to Rachel. His chest squeezed at the sight of her huddled form. She was folded up tight, eyes shut and knees to nose on the floor. Gone was the powerful, brave woman he'd run through the forest with. She looked genuinely terrified. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why. Until he looked past her to the transparent hull. Oh stars, he should have left on the opaque setting. It must have been frightening for someone who had never left the safety of her planet to watch it disappear before her eyes. He reset the floor, not that she'd know until she opened her eyes.
"We're away," he said, uncertain how to reassure her. "You're safe."
"Am I?" Her voice was ice. She didn't even open her eyes as she rotated on her bottom to face away from him.
He sighed. He thought she had better sense than to spurn a ride to safety. She was aware what Dept. 6 would do to her if they found her. Maybe she thought she could evade them on her own. Or talk her way out of their custody.
She couldn't. It had taken him many weeks to determine the weak points of their operation and exploit them to the point where he'd found a method of escape. And that method hadn't been without flaws, something his almost fully healed abdomen could attest to. Rachel was safe with him, for stars’ sake. Surely she knew that by now. Or maybe there was a deeper issue going on here.
If there was, they’d deal with it. Rachel clearly hadn't yet grasped the depth of their bond, but given time, she'd realize her place was at his side. Even if his side happened to reside in space.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rachel peeked through folded arms and slitted eyelids as they hurtled silently through the atmosphere. Thank goodness the floor had returned to a solid white, leaving a strip of windows along the hull. The blue sky gave way to dark indigo, then to the blackness of space. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying. Out here, the dark was enveloping.
"Let's make this ride a little more comfortable, shall we?" he murmured.
His hands moved over the console again and furniture emerged from the floor. A soft, concave chair rose up beneath and around her. In the shuttle’s bay, a bed, couch, and tables formed. A curved wall arched outward from the side of the craft, enclosing a smaller space containing a device like a toilet. The floor softened to a plush, thick carpet. The only space unchanged was the control console.
Drace stepped down from it and eyed her with caution. "I apologize for giving you a fright. I had hoped for a less hurried introduction to the shuttle."
Rachel breathed deeply, tucking her legs beneath her. Amazing wasn't a strong enough word for what she was seeing. She couldn't begin to understand how all this worked. Next to this advanced technology, she felt like a cave person––which of course, was how Baylans saw humans. Compared to what was on this ship, the people on Earth were banging sticks together and painting cave walls. She must seem so primitive to him.
“Do you want more windows?" he asked.
"No." She knotted her hands together in front of her. "Maybe a few."
He touched the screen, and several large circles grew transparent on the ceiling. It allowed a spectacular view without making Rachel feel she was about to fall into space.
"Would you like something to eat?"
"No." She struggled to swallow. She'd been furious with him, but now that the original fear was easing, her fury was subsiding, too. "What's going to happen to me?"
"Happen to you?” He crossed his arms. "That depends on you."
"What does that mean?"
"You'll have to decide what you want, I suppose. You're not without choices. Even here."
"You made my choices very clear, thank you."
He came up behind her chair. One strong hand skimmed from her wrist up to her shoulder
. His voice was a quiet rumble. "Is it that bad, being here with me?"
Tingles followed in the wake of his touch. "What do you even want from me? To be your sexual plaything?"
He leaned down. Firm lips brushed the delicate spot behind her ear. "You'll be my mate."
Rachel jerked at the word. "Your mate?"
"Yes. My mate. My one true match, as I am yours.” Hands slid forward to cup her breasts. "Remember that new soul marking that appeared when you touched my chest, when we first met? It illuminated my skin for the first time at your touch. It means that our bodies and souls belong to each other."
Rachel knew this on some level. Had known it the first time they touched, the moment her lips met his in the RediCare Clinic basement. Her heart knew, even as her mind rebelled against it. Even as her back arched to press into his touch.
Because if it were true––if this man was hers––then Earth was not. Even if he was willing to live on Earth with her, Drace was not a guy she could picture living in a house and working some job. Paying taxes. Waiting in line at the supermarket. The thoughts were laughable. He was a king.
No, she would be the one to leave her home, and not just her apartment, but her planet. She opened her mouth to protest even as heat pooled in her core. "I barely know you."
"Your soul knows me." He circled to the front of the chair where she got an eye-level view of the erection jutting out the front of his pants. "Your body knows me." His finger flicked her bottom lip. "You want me, Rachel. You can deny it, but I can feel your need." His hands curled around her upper arms. Lightning fast, he pulled her to her feet and jerked her tight against him.
"Don't tell me what I need," she gasped, and curving her hand around the back of his neck, yanked his mouth down to hers.
His lips captured her upturned mouth in a hungry kiss. She held his head in place as he ravaged her, sweeping his tongue deep. It was a kiss of knowledge and need and desperation.
She sighed as his lips pulled from hers and his ragged breath shuddered against her throat. She trembled at the heavy ache in her breasts that flamed at his touch.