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PRINTING HISTORY

Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / August 2009

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Granger, Jess.

Beyond the rain / Jess Granger.—Berkley Sensation trade pbk. ed.

eISBN : 978-1-101-14556-2

I. Title.

PS3607.R36285B49 2009

813’.6—dc22 2009015904

http://us.penguingroup.com

To my husband, my hero, my very best friend.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book wouldn’t exist without the love and support of my family. Thank you for all your encouragement and patience. You’ve been there for me, no matter what. I’m glad I could make you proud.

I’d also like to thank my agent, Laura Bradford, and my editor, Leis Pederson, for their belief in this story and their patience as I learn a whole new side of publishing. I’m grateful to all the staff at Berkley, from the cover artists to the copy editors and everyone in between. Thank you for your hard work and dedication.

And special thanks to Rose, my reader from the very start; Angie, my critique partner and friend; Julia and Melanie, who got me hooked on romance to begin with; Kate, for setting me up with Angie; Susan, for a pilot’s insight; Kristie, for keeping me sane; and finally Heather, for being an advocate for Science Fiction Romance everywhere.

“DAMN IT, HATCH! THIS IS WAR. IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE IT, GET YOUR ASSack against the tunnel wall as the shattering explosion of a K-bomb shook the ground. Fine pebbles and dust crumbled over her head, illuminating the laser sights streaming from her team’s eyepieces. She scanned the other men in the tunnel to see if any of them were beginning to panic. They couldn’t lose focus.

“I’m fine, Captain,” Hatch shouted back. He cringed as another blast rumbled in the distance. “Don’t like tight spaces is all.”

Earthlen, they could be so damn unpredictable.

“Keep control, I’m counting on you,” she urged.

Hatch squared his wide shoulders. “I got your back, Amazon.”

“I’m Azralen. Get your species straight.” She brushed the fallen dust off her shadowsuit and assessed the tunnel to see if their path had caved in.

“Wouldn’t get it, Cap’. It’s an Earth thing.” He winked then focused on the holo-map projected in front of his left eye. “We have coordinates on the prisoners. Vicca found them.”

“Good girl,” Cyani whispered to herself as she touched her com unit to turn on her own holo-map. The tiny floating screen lit with brightly colored dots, indicating the location of each prisoner her fox had marked with her com collar. She just hoped the little ball of fur was safe.

The seven Union soldiers they were assigned to rescue huddled in a small cluster in a single cell near the supply store-houses, but Vicca had discovered an eighth humanoid. The unknown prisoner had been locked in the more secure section on the other side of the compound.

“
Shakt
, Vicca, not now,” Cyani cursed as she pressed the recall button that should have sent her fox racing back to her. The blue dot on the holo-map jumped forward then remained still. It seemed her scout wasn’t going to return.

“You stubborn little myhrat. You were supposed to stay with our prisoners, not find one of your own.” Cyani flicked the sensor at her temple and the holo-map disappeared. Whoever the lone prisoner was, he had earned the sympathy of her wayward scout. She would have to go get her. She couldn’t let the security codes in Vicca’s collar fall into enemy hands.

“You two!” She pointed to her men. “Take the microbe packs and free our men. I’ll go after Vicca and this lone one. Hatch and Tola, secure the passage back to the transport. Remain on UC-4 until further notice. That communication channel should still be secure. We meet no later than thirty-five fourteen, understood? I refuse to leave anyone behind on this spirit-forsaken chunk of rock.” She stretched her fingers and pulled her sono from her side. Adjusting the eyepiece and ear set of her com, she turned back to her men.

“Comin’ with you, Cap,” Hatch insisted.

“No,” she commanded. “You have your orders.” The last thing she needed was to lose one of her men trying to retrieve her own damn fox. She had to do this alone. She worked best alone.

“I don’t like this, Captain,” Tola protested.

“You don’t have to,” she responded. “You’re in charge, Lieutenant. Get everyone to the transport before treating any injuries, do you understand? Time is the enemy now.”

He looked up at her, his swarthy expression as enigmatic as ever, but there was something in his eyes, something she couldn’t acknowledge.

“Protect my men,” she added, so soldiers, and she’d never forgive herself if she lost another man because of one of her orders. Losing three during the Felli campaign was bad enough.

Tola nodded as his hawklike expression hardened with resignation.

Cyani continued to the rest of her team, “Don’t get caught. I don’t want to fly into Krona to haul your butts out of an auction pit. Be careful.” She took a microbe pack and hooked it to her belt. The men shuddered, but Hatch’s black eyes turned to steel.

“You be careful, Cap. Azralen sell for a nice chunk of trillide on the slave market. You’re twenty times more valuable than any of us.” Hatch placed his large dark hand on her shoulder, even though she had made it clear several times she shouldn’t be touched, ever. That strict rule of her culture had been beaten into her, and she still bore the scars.

She looked down at Hatch’s hand, unable to chastise him. If they didn’t make it out, such a brief touch was a forbidden comfort, but a comfort all the same. They were more than her men, more than brothers. Hatch patted her shoulder then motioned to Tola. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

“If I’m late, I’m dead. Now go,” she ordered. “We’ll meet in victory soon.”

Cyani left the communication channel open as she flicked on her holo-map. The tiny map buzzed to life. The small blue dot that represented her stell fox remained unwavering beside a glowing orange dot marking the unknown humanoid.

“Whoever you are, you’d better be in some serious trouble, or Vicca’s not getting her belly scratched for the next ten years,” Cyani grumbled as she pulled herself up through a drain grate into the dark, iron-barred halls of the slave enclosure.

The assaulting smells of quar mold and urine made her eyes water. Holding the crook of her arm over her face, she scanned the area while trying to keep her breathing shallow. The terrible smell, the burning in her eyes, the darkness—she couldn’t let herself be distracted by her memories. She didn’t have much time before the Garulen discovered their defenses were down and powered the laser locks back up.

She rubbed the palms of her hands slowly on her thighs, then focused on the task at hand. The last thing she needed was to be killed or captured with her release from the war within her reach.

She pried open a dead laser lock with her flick knife and crept into the dim interior of the slave cells. The large stone blocks closed in around her, making her shudder. She stilled, waiting, watching. Water dripped on stone. The soft
plink-plink
echoed in the empty hall. With silent caution she crept farther down the passage.

K-bombs echoed outside like thunder but seemed distant from the interior of the small stone fortress. She set her com to high alert and scanned her surroundings. Cyani snuck along the walls to the cell door and turned the heavy latch. Pulling the door open with all her strength, she peered inside.

Warning, humanoid life-form encountered.

She flicked her holo-map off, so her eyes could adjust to the dim light.

Cyani stared in awestruck horror at the naked man chained to the wall. She felt her heart race as her stomach clenched in outrage and disgust.

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