Dream Unchained (17 page)

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Authors: Kate Douglas

BOOK: Dream Unchained
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Liz's telepathic voice was strong and clear.
Xinot? Are you there? I can feel you. We have you. Just ride us home.
I'm coming. I feel it. Hold me, Lizzie. Hold me close.
Finn felt an extra surge as Lizzie's mind went into overdrive and she replayed the fantasy that he assumed had originally given Xinot his corporeal form.
It was Lizzie, but not the same Lizzie Finn thought he knew. No, this woman was dressed in a short, skintight, black leather skirt with matching thigh-high leather boots and stiletto heels. Her torso was encased in a red silk bustier that cupped her bare breasts and held them high and proud.
She held a whip in her right hand and those fuzzy handcuffs she'd mentioned dangled from her left, only it wasn't anything like the hand Finn was holding with its neatly trimmed, unpainted nails. No, the hand in her fantasy had long fingers tipped with deadly looking nails painted the same bloodred as her bustier.
And her hair, always such a neat brown cap, spilled around her shoulders in wild disarray. Finn latched on to her fantasy and felt their energy output soar, felt the connection between the four of them and Xinot strengthen.
Cam was there, naked and stretched out across a huge bed, his hands and feet tied at all four posts. His cock stood tall and thick, and Finn knew that this was Cam's addition to the fantasy, that he saw himself at Liz's mercy.
Kiera slipped into the image, standing beside Liz, wearing a red leather thong that displayed her perfect body and left nothing to the imagination. A thin leather strip cut between her legs, pulled up tight with a tiny slit at the front allowing her clit to peek through. The perfect globes of her buttocks glistened, and her chocolate skin looked as if it had been oiled.
Her breasts were cupped in a matching red leather push-up bra that left her dark nipples bare and showcased the dark sheen of her skin. She crawled across Cam, turned, and took his cock in her mouth while he attacked her clit with his tongue.
Suddenly, another man joined them. Naked, beautiful, his skin the same smooth porcelain as Cam's woman Niah. His dark blond hair hung in blood-soaked tangles about his face. More blood ran from a deep slash across his chest.
Lizzie screamed. Finn pulled free of the fantasy just in time to catch Xinot as the naked Nyrian tumbled out of space in human form and into Finn's arms.
Blood flowed freely from his wounds, garish stains against fair skin and blond hair, but Finn managed to catch him and slowly lower him to the floor. Someone handed him some clean towels. With the camera going, Finn covered the man's groin with one, pressed another against the deep slash in his chest, and held a third against the wound to his scalp.
“Bolt?” Finn raised his head, looking for the man. Where the hell was he? “Can you help him? Did the others make it?”
Dink answered. “Five guys showed up. How many did you expect?”
“Five,” Cam said. “Are the others okay?”
“They appear to be. A couple of them look wiped out, but they're in better shape than this poor guy. Kiera's with them. What do you think happened to him?” Dink turned to the cameraman. “Did you get that? Good lord, he just tumbled out of nothing, a fully formed human. The others were sparkly, but not this guy.”
Finn folded the towel on Xinot's chest. It was already soaking through. “I think he just about burned out getting here. Xinot, hang on, buddy. Bolt?” What was taking him so long? Xinot needed help, and they needed to hurry. Hadn't Tor said that as soon as these guys showed up, he and the others had to head to the ship? He had no idea how long it was going to take them.
A woman shoved through the small crowd in the doorway. Fair and slender, and Finn knew he'd met her but . . .
“Niah? Can you help Xinot?” Cam grabbed her arm and pulled her farther into the room. “That's why I'm here.” Niah spread a blanket on the floor. “Bolt has to leave for the Gar ship. He can't heal Xinot now.”
Finn helped Cam lift the unconscious Nyrian and laid him on the clean surface. The moment Xinot was in position, Niah spun into energy and slipped inside the man.
Finn heard a sharp gasp and glanced up at the cameraman. “She'll heal him from inside,” he said, feeling like a narrator in a documentary, which, in many ways, this newscast might be. “In energy form, she's capable of moving at the speed of light. It shouldn't take too long. Watch this.” He pointed at the pool of blood that had spilled beside Xinot. As the camera recorded, the blood appeared to shrink back into his chest wound, which was already closing.
Duran knelt beside Dink, and stared at Xinot. “This changes things. We didn't think the Gar weapons could harm human flesh.” He reached across Xinot and grabbed Finn's arm. “We have to go. Now. I just heard from Bane, and the attack against the fence on the far side of the plateau has begun. We can't risk waiting any longer. If they damage the satellite array, it could affect our ability to get to the ship.”
Shit. Finn leapt to his feet. “What about getting back to Earth?” He thought that seemed pretty important.
“We'll worry about that later.” Duran laughed. “You said you wanted an adventure, didn't you?”
Bolt crowded into the small shack with Morgan and Rodie. The cameraman stepped back out of the way, along with Dink and the other reporter with the mic, though it was obvious they really didn't have a clue what was coming next.
Bolt took Rodie's hand in his left and Morgan's in his right. Finn clasped Morgan's right hand and held on to Duran, who held Rodie's. “Rodie, you and Morgan are going to meld with me. You don't have to do a thing—I'll grab you as soon as you disassemble. Finn, you're going with Duran. We'll head straight to the service bay on the engine room level. The air will be thin and it smells terrible. If you feel like puking, go ahead. That's partially why I had you pack water.”
Morgan grunted. “Now he tells us.”
Duran glanced at Finn. “Are you ready?”
Finn's heart pounded in his chest and his lungs tightened until he couldn't breathe at all. Nerves. He knew it was all nerves, but damn it, he had a right to be nervous. Sucking in a deep breath, he forced his lungs to expand. “Hell, yes. Let's go!”
He glanced at Morgan and winked. Rodie grinned and they all disassembled at once. The moment he lost his corporeal body, Finn felt a slight suction and knew he was caught in Duran's energy. Blue and gold motes of light sparkled and swirled all around him, and Finn imagined how they must look to everyone watching.
He thought of the first time he saw the energy spiraling and knew it was a Nyrian. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined being a physical part of anything like this. The cameraman, the reporter, Dink and Cam, Lizzie and Kiera, Mac holding Zianne; all of them appeared as part of a still-life tableau, all focused on the spot where energy that had been five human figures now spun madly. The five of them flashed upward, spiraling higher and higher until the earth was a spinning blue marble beneath them. There was no sense of movement, no sensation of the atmosphere they immediately left behind.
The dark stillness of space gave way to the massive Gar ship, and they were through and inside before Finn had time to consider the fact he should be utterly terrified.
No, it was all too amazing, too unbelievable. A movie in three dimensions, a fantasy after smoking some really good weed. This could not be happening, could not be real.
You're free of me, Finn. Take your human shape, as will I.
Okay. Just hoping we can breathe in here.
That would be nice, don't you think?
Only Rodie.
Let me go first,
he said.
Better if just one of us keels over than all three.
Before any of the others had time to respond, Finn reassembled his body. The stench hit him first, a smell worse than rotting meat, but he sucked in a deep breath and decided there was enough oxygen buried within the stench that he could breathe without passing out.
Puking might be another matter. He glanced at the swirling energy and nodded, hoping they'd see he was okay. The area they'd landed in was dark and filled with what looked like containers of some sort, marked with unknown symbols and signs.
“Shit. What died in here?” Morgan shook his head and grabbed Rodie's arm as she stumbled into her human form.
“Maybe it's the latest in Gar perfume,” Finn said. “Eau de roadkill.”
“Oh. Smells bad.” She covered her nose with one hand and clung to Morgan, staring around them at the odd shapes and unknown machinery. “That's just gross, Finn. Yuck. What now?”
Duran reformed, and then Bolt stood beside him. “There is a long hallway that leads to the engine room. Right now, Bolt and I plus the three powering the ship are the only Nyrians on board. I've communicated with Nattoch. The Gar know there's a problem, but they have no idea what it is. Nattoch says Arnec managed to leave some form of residual energy in the barracks. No one realizes the room is empty. We have but a short time before the Gar figure out they've been duped. Bolt will go to the engine room and meet with the others. He'll help them shut down and escape. It's our job to rescue all the soulstones. Ours and Zianne's.”
“You're certain they won't have separated hers from the rest of them? Destroyed it, somehow?” Morgan checked the buckle on the small pack around his waist.
“The Gar have no way of knowing which stones belong to any of us. Our soulstones glow so brightly, their light blinds the filthy creatures. They fear them, even as they hold them hostage.”
“I sure hope you're right. We know the Gar are armed with stunners that can screw up your energy fields.” Morgan glanced at Finn. “And from the look of the guy you brought in, they've got other weapons as well, because he had a pretty good slice across his chest. How did that happen?”
“Xinot was the last to pick up his stone. He was exhausted after the ten-hour shift with just the three of them,” Bolt said. “The Gar who was guarding the stones became suspicious and fired his stunner, but Xinot tried to shift to his human form, hoping the confusion would give him time to escape.”
He glanced away and then turned and looked directly at Morgan. “We did not know until Xinot returned wounded that the standard Gar weapon would damage human flesh. You will have to be very careful to avoid them.”
“Great.” Rodie rolled her eyes. “I guess we don't just waltz right in like we planned.”
“I don't like this, Rodie.” Morgan glared at her. “It's too dangerous.”
“I don't like it either, Morgan.” She met his glare with one of her own, planted her hands on her hips and growled, “So I suggest we get our butts in gear and go rescue the guys in the engine room, grab the stones, and get the hell off this stinking spaceship before something dangerous happens.”
“Something dangerous? Like being here is safe?” It wasn't at all funny. Really. Except Rodie looked so damned outraged, Finn had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He glanced at Morgan. Morgan made eye contact and his lips twitched. Then Rodie turned and saw both of them struggling to maintain. She lost it.
It took them forever to stop giggling. Duran and Bolt stared at the three of them as if they were nuts. Maybe they were, but the laughter settled whatever fear had gripped them—at least it did for Finn.
They were here to do a job and it was time to get it done.
Rodie muttered, “Well, it really does stink.”
Finn snorted and refused to look at Morgan, who was paying a lot of attention to the door in front of them. Duran shot a confused look at Bolt. “It must be a human response we've not learned yet.”
Frowning, Bolt nodded seriously, which almost set Finn off again, but he took a deep breath, held it a moment, and got control. Yeah, he wanted to say, it's definitely a human response to blind terror. When in doubt, get the giggles.
Bolt shifted to his energy form and went on ahead. A moment later, with Duran in the lead, the rest of them headed through the doorway and down the long hallway that would take them to the soulstones—and the Gar.
9
D
ink stared at the empty spot in the dream shack where three humans and two Nyrians had been standing. Unbelievable. He glanced over his shoulder at Nick Shaw, the young helicopter pilot doing double-duty by toting the camera gear, and figured Nick looked just as stunned. “Did you get that?”
“I think so. Where'd they go?”
“I imagine they're on the Gar ship by now.” Zianne glanced at Mac and sighed. “It's begun, gentlemen. In their energy form, they will travel at light speed. It's how I was able to go back in time to find Mac, so that he would have the next twenty years to develop the technology and make enough money to build this array.”
“You couldn't go forward, see how this all pans out?” Dink stepped aside so Carl Waters, the one hanging on to the mic, could hold it closer to Zianne. “That would sure ease a lot of tension.” He laughed. Zianne merely smiled.
“True, but you cannot go into a time that has not happened. You can only see that which has passed. We won't know how everything is going until they're back. I'm sorry, Dink, but we're into real time while they deal with the Gar.”
“Xinot? Are you all right?” Liz's question tugged Dink away from Zianne. The dream shack was such a small building and just the few of them filled it—how the hell could he have lost track of an injured man being healed from the inside out?
After a while, maybe the brain just refused to process any more unbelievable stuff. That had to be it. Dink focused on the man lying on the floor. Lizzie knelt beside him and the Nyrian woman who'd disappeared
inside
the injured alien was now sitting next to him, holding his hand. His eyes were open, his color finally returning to what Dink assumed was his normal fair complexion.
Like the other aliens, this guy was absolutely beautiful. He certainly appealed to Dink's appreciation of the male form. Almost angelic with thick waves of dark blond hair curling around his face, and eyes such a brilliant blue he looked as if he wore fake contacts. Lizzie was helping him to sit up, and he was smiling at her while leaning against the one who had healed him.
“I am well now. Thank you, Niah.” He nodded formally to the Nyrian. She leaned over and kissed him, brushed his hair back from his face in a tender, almost motherly gesture, and then quickly stood.
“I'm going to take Ian, Darc, Teev, and Sakel to the lodge with me,” she said. “They need food, time to adjust, to rest in case we're needed later.” Teev and Sakel each kissed Kiera and followed Niah and the other two as they left the shack.
The door hadn't had time to close when gunshots echoed across the plateau. Dink stared at Mac. “What's going on?”
Zianne closed her eyes for a moment, and then, if anything, looked even more pale than she'd been. “The ones on the back side of the plateau have torn through the fence, rushed the guards, and fired upon them. Your men are returning gunfire, but the Nyrians are not armed. They've shifted and will do what mischief they can to slow the attack, but they're outnumbered.”
“Shit. Kiera?” Mac shifted Zianne in his arms. “I need to leave Zianne here with you. The shack's like a bunker. Lock the door behind us. You should be safe and we need to hang on to the connection here with the ship.”
Lizzie helped Xinot to his feet. “I'm taking Xinot to my cabin. He needs to get his strength back. Kiera? Call me if you need me. I'll keep my phone handy.” She and Xinot moved aside as Mac carried Zianne to the recliner.
“Sounds good, Liz.” Kiera stood as Mac settled Zianne into the comfortable chair and kissed her soundly. Dink made sure the camera caught all of it before following Mac outside. “Mac, I can't believe they're attacking in broad daylight. I was sure you'd have plenty of time before they rushed the site.”
“I know.” Mac continued on toward the lodge where Meg waited on the porch. “Meg? I want you to get all the Nyrians who aren't working with Ralph in here; take them into the basement. Make sure you've got plenty of food with you. There's water and rations stored down there along with plenty of bedding and supplies.”
“My chicken's a lot better than your rations, Mac Dugan.” Meg was already signaling to the women around her, gathering them together. Many of them looked totally out of it, as if they'd had one too many shocks in too short a time. Niah and the four men stood off to one side.
Mir walked in. She touched Mac's arm. “I'll help,” she said. “Tara will stay in the dream shack with Zianne and Kiera, in case someone needs to share energy with Zianne.” She raised her voice. “All the rest of you, let's help Meg carry what we need and get below. We'll be safe here until we're needed.”
Niah followed the group of frightened women, and the few men who'd just arrived from the ship, across the open area, helping to herd them up to the porch. “There are quite a few of us. Will we fit in your safe room?”
Meg opened the door and held it wide. “Plenty of room. We'll be fine, and there's a computer down there so we can get online and follow what's happening.”
Niah paused between Mac and Dink. “The guys will be fine once they've had time to rest a bit and adjust. As far as the women, if you need our help, don't hesitate to ask. Not all of us are frightened. Some of us are truly angry, and we have many ways of dealing with stupid men who tend to underestimate our abilities. And remember, Mac. I can heal humans as well as Nyrians. So can Mir.”
She had such a big smile on her face, Dink figured she wished she was one of the guys on the front lines.
“I do,” she said. Then she winked at him and followed the others into the lodge.
Mac watched her go with a stupid grin on his face.
“What are you laughing at?” Dink realized he was smiling as well, which was really stupid with the sound of gunfire escalating and the potential for some real danger way too close.
Mac shook his head as he headed back down the stairs. “Just thinking how much these people amaze me. I have yet to meet a stupid or cowardly Nyrian.”
“They've lived a long time. Long enough to get smart.”
“Ya think?” Mac stopped in front of the helicopter. “Can you guys fly over, take a look, maybe see if you can get any idea what their plans are?”
“Works for me. What about you? Carl? You stay with Mac. Use the handheld camera for any video you think we can use. It records sound. The quality's not as good, but it's okay. We'll worry about editing later. I'll go up with Nick.”
“I'm calling General Adams and updating him,” Mac said. “Can you broadcast live from the chopper? Have you aired enough to at least have people appreciating the fact that the Nyrians are the good guys?”
“Carl?” Dink turned to the other reporter. Carl stood a few feet away with his cell phone to his ear. “You get any feedback yet on our earlier reports?”
The man nodded, held up a finger for time, and continued talking a moment longer. Then he tapped the phone off. “They're coming around, at least from what our man-on-the-street reporters are hearing. The boss says our phone system's crashed twice now due to incoming calls, but they're mostly on our side, wondering who's going to stop the bad aliens. Showing the guys turning into sparkles and leaving for the ship definitely got everyone's attention. It's a good visual, all those pretty sparks. Reminds people of the old
Star Trek
movies.”
Dink just shook his head. “I'll admit to hearing, ‘beam me up, Scotty,' in my head whenever I see them, but that's a good thing. It's a positive connection for viewers, something that actually makes sense.”
“Unlike the rest of what we're seeing?” Carl grabbed a small video camera out of his pack.
“Exactly.” Dink paused before climbing into the helicopter as Mac glanced at his cell phone and cursed.
“It's been set to vibrate so it wouldn't interrupt your broadcast. Looks like the general's been trying to reach me.”
Mac tapped to reply and held the phone to his ear. Dink rubbed the back of his neck, only now aware of the tension tightening his muscles, of the adrenaline coursing through his body. He hadn't felt this jacked up since Afghanistan. No, he'd never felt this jacked. This was way bigger than anything the Middle East could throw at them.
Mac turned his back while he carried on his conversation. Dink glanced at the reporter. “Carl, we'll be doing a live feed from the chopper.” The pilot snorted in disbelief. Dink just laughed it off. The guy didn't know Dink any more than Dink knew him. “Don't worry,” he said. “I'm not just another pretty face.”
Nick flushed beet red. “I, uh . . .”
“Relax. I'm teasing you.” The last thing he needed was a pilot who thought he was an idiot, especially with the escalating sounds of fighting coming from the plateau. “Look, Nick, I've handled plenty of cameras, and I've done it with people shooting at me in countries all over the world. Don't worry about anything but the chopper. You need to fly. And keep flying. I prefer not to get shot down. That would look really bad on your résumé, not to mention it would totally ruin my day.”
“Uh, sure thing, Mr. Dinkemann. Nils.” The kid was a good cameraman and one hell of a pilot from what Dink could tell, but he was stumbling all over because of Dink's fame. A little hero worship was fine, but not when it got in the way of performance.
“Nick, at this point, I think you can just call me Dink. There's got to be a rule somewhere that when you're getting shot at, the formal crap gets dropped.”
“Yes, sir.” The minute he said it, Nick blushed again, Dink laughed. A huge explosion rocked the ground.
“Shit! What the . . .”
Flames rocketed skyward from the far end of the plateau, followed by a thick cloud of black smoke. Dink heard Mac yelling into his phone, but Nick had lost all his earlier hesitancy. He'd already jumped into the chopper and was firing up the engine. The rotor began turning almost immediately as he prepared for takeoff. Dink raced around to the far side and buckled himself into the passenger's seat.
It took just over a minute to get the bird off the ground, but then they were in the air and flying over the remnants of one of the huge satellite dishes, now a crumpled mass of twisted metal. The ground around the base was blackened, but with nothing but dirt and rocks to burn, the fire had gone out. Dink kept the camera going as Nick swooped low over the tangled wreckage.
Then he took a pass out over the fence and down the side of the plateau. Dink spotted half a dozen men hunkered down behind a natural wall of what had to be part of the old lava flow that had created the plateau many thousands of years ago.
One of them stood and fired a shot at the helicopter, but he was using a handgun and didn't have the range. Nick was already taking evasive measures and the bullet missed. He circled the chopper back around to the top of the plateau.
As they flew over the fence, Dink spotted a huge section that had been ripped out. A small tractor lay on its side just over the edge of a short drop, trailing about twenty feet of chain link fencing behind it.
The chopper swept on around so Dink could film the damage and then headed back over DEO-MAP property. Mac's security guards were huddled behind a large group of boulders not far from the blast. Dink pointed to them. Nick set the chopper down nearby, but far enough back from the plateau's edge for some protection from the men on the hillside below. They both got out and Dink handed the camera off to Nick as they ducked beneath the spinning blades.
“Are you guys okay?” Dink bent low behind the rocks, furious that the jerks on the hillside below didn't appear to have a problem firing at unarmed men.
“Yeah. No one's been hit, but we're all a little pissed. Where the hell's the sheriff?” Ralph popped up for a quick look over the rock and then slid back down behind it. “We're under attack here. They tore out a section of the fence and blew one of the dishes. We thought we'd have help by now. What's happening?”
“When I left, Mac was on the phone with someone from the Pentagon. As far as the sheriff showing up with help, Mac said not to hold your breath. The guy running your resident domestic terrorist group has one of the local county supervisors in his pocket. The board has openly declared that they're not a problem.”
“Like we are?” Ralph leaned over and spit. “I'd like to see someone from the board of supervisors down here dodging bullets and then see what the sons a' bitches have to say. If not for these guys”—he nodded at the Nyrians who'd held on to their human form—“I think a couple of us might've been shot. Or worse.”
“You guys aren't armed, are you?” Dink spoke to the men, well aware of the camera Nick focused on their conversation.
Bane shook his head. His face was smudged with dirt, but he looked as if he was having a great time. “They don't cope well with Nyrians disassembling in front of them. We've been trying to keep them confused and uncertain of our number.”

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