Daughter of Destiny (7 page)

"Whoa!" Katarina jerked
back and tried to ignore the obvious sign of arousal. Again she
expected anger, and yet again he surprised her.

He chuckled and his clothes
reappeared before he tugged her close again. "Thank you for pulling
me out of my nightmare, Katarina." His hand brushed a tendril of
hair away from her face and Katarina’s breath caught. She found
herself wishing she hadn't stopped him a moment before.

"You know what I am, don't
you?"

"Yes."

"Are you afraid of what I
am?"

"Should I be?"

Zane laughed, and the deep,
husky sound vibrated through his body and made her womb clench, as
he rubbed his arousal against her.

"I suppose this complicates
things, but I still want to meet you."

Her hands clung to Zane's
forearms as logic warred with emotion inside her. He showed her a
vital piece of his soul and it made her want more, no matter what
logic dictated. She leaned into him and placed a quick kiss on his
lips before whispering, "In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow." Then
she escaped to her own mind and body.

***

As the shuttle arrived in
downtown Memphis, Zane wished for a handy wall to bang his head
against. He sighed as he filed into the line disembarking from the
shuttle. Last night committed him to seeing the mission through
with Katarina. He prayed she proved trustworthy. The thought of
having to end another life threatened to snap the fragile hold he
maintained on civility.

He eyed several of the
pretty females which filed past, but not one triggered the mildest
increase in his heart rate.
Great. What's she done to
me?

He marched through the
station in a mild temper, but the detailed architecture and echoes
of bygone days whispered to him. In spite of his mood, he stopped
and read a plaque that reviewed the station's long history.
Originally opened in 1914, rebuilt in 1944, renovated in 1999 and
again in 2029, most of the station now served other purposes. The
fact that it survived the ups and downs of over one hundred years
astounded him. The places he usually frequented found it more cost
effective to raze old buildings than to renovate them.

A group of tourists passed
by, and he followed them. They boarded a quaint looking vehicle the
tourists called a trolley. He spotted the ground conveyances and
hover cabs, but decided to opt for the novelty of the antique mode
of travel. After zipping along at hundreds of miles per hour, the
old trolleys seemed to crawl across the land. The slow method of
travel bought him time to recover his composure and objectivity
after the unexpected telepathic intimacy.

Zane chose a seat near an
open window. A cool spring breeze blew in the fragrance of blooming
flowers and the sound of avian calls. The wooden seats were worn
smooth with age. The tension he awoke with melted away as the
trolley rattled forward with a slight rocking motion. None of the
planets he ever visited managed to hold on to little bits of the
past like this except in museums.
How much history and culture
has been sacrificed in the name of progress?
That thought
brought a momentary pang of grief as he thought of his brother. Dr.
Qior Hadrian had lived to uncover forgotten secrets of the past.
His archeological research led to the Confederacy locating
Earth.

The trolley rumbled along
the tracks, stopping every so often to let more passengers on and
others off. It passed both new and old, run down, and lovingly
cared for buildings. Next to a large ornate building, which a
plaque proclaimed almost two hundred years old, large mechanized
droids removed rubble from a demolished building. Above them, a
police hover flew by, sirens blaring. They passed a park and Zane
caught sight of an officer riding a graceful four-legged
creature.

"Look, honey," the man a
few seats down said to the woman beside him.

"What?"

"There’s the Lorraine Motel
where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was killed back in 1968. Do you
want to do the tour later?"

"Sure!"

A little while later the
wife exclaimed, "My pamphlet says that’s the fountain France gave
Memphis in the 1870s to commemorate the city charter being
reinstated after a yellow fever epidemic."

"Make sure you get it on
vid as we pass."

Zane smiled at the
exchange. It spoke volumes about Earth’s humans that both
landmarks, one nearly a hundred years older than the other, were
equally interesting. Zane got off the trolley at Beale street as
the couple seemed to make a fuss about going to a diner they saw on
television.

He wandered along Beale and
turned onto Main Street. Groups of tourists and families strolled
down the cobbled street and he listened to snippets of
conversations to get a feel for the society. The city's vibe felt
less urgent, less intrusive than the more common giant
megatropolises. Here he could walk down the street and see anything
coming at him, but little here posed much threat, which convinced
him he needed Katarina's help. The report from this mission could
redefine this planet's future. A misinterpreted custom or poorly
chosen word had sparked violent wars before and timing of an
official first contact mission could make or break a civilization.
If contact occurred too soon, opportunistic species raided the
planets and fleeced its inhabitants, which is why IGCF maintained
such strict laws governing contact with non-confederacy worlds. As
he passed a row of derelict shops, he prayed that Katarina would
not refuse him.

Katarina let out a shaky
breath as Zane entered the museum room.
"Oh...my...god!"
She
watched him scan the crowd and assess the people present as he
walked with the fluid grace of a panther stalking its prey. His
loose clothing failed to hide the raw muscular strength, for every
movement whispered of leashed power. His angular, chiseled features
appeared similar in lines to Native Americans, but sculpted with an
exotic touch. He could be called nothing less than beautiful.
No
wonder my hormones are doing a happy dance. I'd have to be dead not
to react to that.
Katarina couldn't help but notice that the
gazes of every female in the room, and a few of the male's as well,
followed Zane as he walked.

Her hand held low at her
side, Katarina motioned to Naia who waited across the room by the
miniature steam boat replicas. Naia nodded her response and turned
so she could watch without being obvious about it. Katarina then
took a moment to compose herself and then revealed her psychic
presence. He stopped in his tracks and a smile curved his lips.
Katarina's conscience fought a vicious battle with her hormones,
and lost. She glanced down at his crotch and then bit the inside of
her lip to keep from grinning. He was just as affected as she
was.

They stared at one another
for a minute before she shook herself out of her stupor and closed
the distance between them. Somehow she managed to appear a study of
calm despite her body's reaction. Her heart threatened to explode
out of her chest and heat suffused her entire body, but she flashed
a smile. "Walk with me?"

Zane opened his mouth to
say something, and then shut it. He nodded his head and fell in
step beside her. His eyes never left her face. Katarina focused on
the displays depicting life on the river. The first room showcased
the Native American history, followed by the first European
explorers. Each subsequent room covered a different era or aspect
of culture, be it music or the construction of boats. Katarina
congratulated herself for every second her eyes stayed away from
the walking perfection beside her.

Zane bumped into her as he
dodged out of the way of two kids racing headlong through the room.
The brief contact confirmed there was nothing soft about him.
Erotic images swam in her head.

She blurted out a mundane
question to take her mind off her thoughts. "So what do you think
of Memphis so far?"

"It’s interesting." He
gestured at a display of arrowheads and pottery. "This wasn't all
that long ago."

"Those are over three
hundred years old. I'd call that pretty damn old."

He shrugged one shoulder.
"Depends on one's perspective."

"True." As they wandered to
the next room of the river museum, she wracked her brains for
something else to say. She blurted the first thing that came to
mind, "While you’re here, you’ll have to try some barbecue. It has
been a Memphis legacy for generations." Katarina winced even as she
spoke.
Barbecue? I have a sexy alien walking next to me and I'm
talking about barbecue? What is wrong with me?

"I had some. It’s
good."

"Good."

Zane gave her a smile that
blazed brighter than a hundred watt florescent bulb. Her breath
quickened and they stood there staring at each other again before
Katarina cleared her throat and resumed walking. Trying to shift
the conversation to a more productive topic, she asked, "If you
don’t mind my asking, what are your plans? How long will you be in
town?"

"Not long."

So intent on staring at his
face and listening to his deep and melodic voice, it took a moment
for his response to register. Katarina couldn’t keep her
disappointment out of her voice. "Oh." She frowned when his lips
twitched in a suppressed smile. Then she remembered the unreadable
mask she was supposed to maintain, and stopped frowning.

A crowd of high school aged
kids passed, and a young man knocked into Katarina. He kept on
moving without an apology. Zane’s arm caught her when she stumbled.
Electricity shot through her at his touch. He mumbled under his
breath, something that sounded like a curse perhaps, but she was
too busy trying to draw air into her lungs to think. By sheer force
of will she ignored the burning ache at her core that urged her to
turn and press herself against that long hard body. Held against
him, the thud of his heart matched hers, his breath became just as
erratic, and when he withdrew his arm he trailed a caress down the
length of her spine. She figured she deserved a gold medal for
stepping away and turning her brain to practical
matters.

Katarina looked him in the
eyes and sent her mind seeking, careful to do so as lightly as
possible.

"What do you want? Why are
you here? Where are you from? Can I trust you?" She blurted the
questions tumbling around in her head and then listened for lies.
She expected them. People lied all of the time. It was what lies he
told that mattered.

He returned her stare. "You
can trust me."

He meant his declaration.
She sensed no deceit. Maybe she could, to a point, but the past
taught her that only a fool gave absolute trust. Nonetheless, she
felt more at ease with him, aside from the sexual tension, than
with anyone other than Naia.

She looked straight into
eyes as dark as the coffee on which she spent a small fortune.
Katarina tilted her head back at an uncomfortable angle, even
though her two inch heels brought her up to an even six feet.
"Really?"
She sent him the question
telepathically.

"Captain Zane Gratig of the
Inter-Galactic Confederacy Fleet, at your service. I’m here to
gather information on Earth. I did not expect to find someone like
you here."

She wondered if he meant a
fellow telepath, or if he was referring to the undeniable
attraction between them.

"I am one of many whose
ancestors once lived here. It will take time to explain. If we go
somewhere private, I can tell you everything."
He reached out
and brushed the slightest caress down her arm.
"My life is now
in your hands, Katarina."

Katarina’s heart seized at
his trust in her. Without even knowing it, he was doing the very
thing that could melt the ice and demolish the protective walls
around her heart. She answered him with a genuine smile- not the
empty curving of lips that came so easy. She wanted to break out
into laughter when the busy little scientist in her head woke up
and began listing all of the questions she needed to ask. He
offered her complete trust. How could she not take the risk? She
took his hand in hers. "I'll hold it as carefully as if it were my
own." He closed his eyes at her words, but she sensed the rush of
emotion he tried to hide. The overwhelming mix of fear and joy he
emanated echoed her state of mind. "Come home with me and you can
answer all my questions. Then I'll do my best to answer
yours."

"All right."

She turned and waved Naia
forward, who hurried over. "I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it
wise to bring a friend, just in case."

"I’m glad. It proves you
don’t regularly go around meeting strange men."

Katarina turned to glare at
him, to tell him that even if she did, it was none of his business.
However, his lips twitched and humor flowed from him in a warm wave
of energy.

"Men," she muttered as she
turned to greet Naia, but her heart did funny flip-flops at his
teasing.

Naia met them in front of
the Elvis display. Katarina became aware she still held Zane’s hand
and started to pull away, but found her hand caught in a solid but
gentle grip. He held on to her as if her hand belonged in
his.