FrankenDom (35 page)
“Unfortunately,” he continued, his look daring Pret to object, “there are factors
at work here besides my personal preferences.”
The Ambassador turned away at once, making a show of topping off Kellen’s still-full
mug from an ornate sterling teapot. The dainty Terran antique couldn’t have looked
more ridiculous in his long fingers.
“You, of course, must be the judge of that.” He set the pot down with meticulous care,
aligning the handle at a precise ninety-degree angle to the tray, then focused on
Kellen once more. “Having the good doctor transferred to your service shouldn’t present
a problem. But I’m certain you’ll agree with the necessity of keeping the truth of
her parentage from the Terrans for as long as possible. I wouldn’t put it past them
to whisk her away for use as leverage against us.”
“That would be quite unwise,” Kellen said dryly. “We wouldn’t even have to destroy
them ourselves. Simply posting a habitat beacon on their solar system would attract
every scavenger race from Aptorm to Zeccha.”
“Wisdom and elected officials rarely walk hand in hand, Commander.”
“It’s not the elected officials who concern me.”
“Ah—you’re referring to TAIM?”
“Among others.” Terrans Against Interspecies Mating, while certainly a nuisance, was
only one of a dozen or more groups that had sprung up in opposition to the Alliance
since its formal inception almost a year ago. Most of them were spawned in cyberspace,
and for the most part only existed there, circulating fantastic propaganda in an effort
to sway public opinion against the Garathani. TAIM, on the other hand, was a well-organized
campaign with seemingly bottomless pockets, and their thinking man’s approach to scare
tactics had done much to foment Terran distrust of the Alliance. But Kellen wasn’t
convinced TAIM was the true threat. No, it was the nameless, faceless splinter groups
that worried him.
“Put a protective detail on her, just in case,” Pret cautioned.
“Already done. Bayan and Tarkan units are covering her now and three more have been
called into the rotation.”
“Good. Cecine would be quite displeased,” the Ambassador concluded with a speaking
look, “were anything to happen to
this one
.”
Kellen’s jaw tightened. How had he found out so quickly?
Mentally consigning all diplomats to the oiliest corners of Peserin’s hell, Kellen
returned his look with a flat stare.
“Not nearly as displeased as I.”
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Copyright 2009
Prologue
Dayree King had only been driving for twenty minutes when the hairs on her arms prickled
to attention. She hadn’t felt the whisper-soft charge of flare energy in decades,
but she recognized it in time to keep from careening off the road when her husband
materialized in the seat beside her.
She tensed, deliberately backing off the accelerator. Ragan’s use of the advanced
technology spoke volumes about his determination to keep her home and she didn’t want
to have this argument at breakneck speed.
“Taking the scenic route to the theater?” he asked acidly.
Dayree spared him a wary glance. It was strange to see him in the passenger seat—he
always insisted on driving even when they took her SUV.
The greenish glow from the dash did nothing to warm the arctic planes of his face
as he stared back at her, and suddenly it was hard to remember what she’d ever seen
in either the scientist she’d served with or the lover she’d married. They hadn’t
had sex since the Garathani settled into orbit six months ago and, as far as she knew,
he hadn’t slept in all that time.
Once the Garathani forged an alliance with the Terrans and began recruiting females
for sexual service, Ragan’s devotion to duty, once so appealing in its zeal, had morphed
into a fanaticism that bordered on hysteria. That fanaticism was going to cost innocent
lives, and though it went against her training—indeed, her very nature—to challenge
her mate, Dayree couldn’t let Jasmine be one of those casualties.
“I have to go, Ragan.”
“Enough of your foolishness,” he replied, tugging at the cuffs of his gloves. One
would think after all these years on Earth, he would have developed some tolerance,
perhaps even affection, for the planet and its inhabitants, but he still acted as
if all things Terran were contaminated with fecal material. “Turn around and I’ll
endeavor to forget you ever defied me in such a manner.”
“I can’t let her do this.”
“You can, and you will. She’s a stubborn, ungrateful little wretch who owes us this,
at the very least.”
“No.” Her fingers clutched the steering wheel convulsively. “She’s got to know.”
Worry for her beloved daughter was like a wild bird trapped in her breast. It was
bad enough that Ragan was infecting their cell with his paranoia and whipping Earth’s
population into an exophobic frenzy—sending Jasmine in to monitor the enemy’s activities
armed with anything less than the truth was something she simply could not allow.
Even as they zipped through the moonless night, Jasmine was sorting and packing and
making the final preparations for her move to the alliance compound, and Dayree felt
almost frantic with the need to get to her. She should never have let things get this
far, should never have let Jasmine give up the teaching job she loved for a fight
that wasn’t hers—a fight that by all accounts wasn’t even theirs anymore.
“For the last time, Dayree,” Ragan said with exaggerated patience. “The less she knows,
the safer she is.”
“You mean the safer we are.”
Ignoring her barbed observation, he tugged at the black leather cuffs again, obviously
preparing to grab her. Never mind that flaring her out with him would leave the unpiloted
vehicle barreling into oncoming traffic. Typical Ragan—the cost of such an act, be
it in dollars or lives, meant nothing to him.
Her grip on the wheel tightened. Damn it, if he wanted to take her, he’d have to take
the car too.
“Are you going to turn this vehicle around and return to the house?” he asked.
“No. I’m going to Denver and nothing you can say will change my mind.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” he said flatly. “Your presence will be sorely missed.”
Taken aback by his reversal, she blinked. “Well, I’ll be home by—”
He grabbed the steering wheel and Dayree’s heart jumped into her throat as they swerved
sickeningly.
“Ragan, stop it!” She fought him for control of the big vehicle, unable to believe
he would put both their lives in jeopardy like this.
Then his foot came down on top of hers, depressing the accelerator slowly to the floor.
“All right, all right!” she screamed over the revving of the engine, terrified by
their out-of-control speed. “I’m sorry! I’ll go home, I’ll stay home, I’ll do whatever
you say, just stop!”
He jerked the wheel hard to the right and Dayree screamed again when they veered across
the shoulder and jumped the guardrail with a horrendous screech of metal on metal.
His boot ground into the top of her foot and they bumped blindly down the grassy hill
toward the cliffs.
Her mate was killing her.
Before she could pry her frozen fingers off the steering wheel and reach for him,
Ragan disappeared in a flare bubble. She slammed on the brake, but it was too late.
The bumping stopped and she sailed off the cliff into the chilly northern California
night.
She knew it was a long way down when her disbelief had time to give way to anger and
betrayal. And then fear—for herself, for the people of Earth, but mostly for her daughter.
Jasmine would be alone and utterly unprotected now.
Although it was too dark to see her doom rushing up to meet her, Dayree closed her
eyes. She’d die on impact, so at least her death wouldn’t be painful.
She prayed Jasmine would be as fort—
Chapter One
The Garathani warship Heptoral
One year later
“You are being dishonest.”
Commander Kellen’s accusation hovered in the air like a swarm of killer bees, and
Jasmine King gripped the edges of her seat with palms that had suddenly gone clammy.
Had she really thought she was prepared for a confrontation with this big, pissed-off
alien?
“No!” she gasped. “I swear, I’ve told you everything I know.”
The commander continued to search her face as he leaned over the table, and she didn’t
have to be psychic to know he didn’t like what he saw. His stony expression said it
all—she’d deprived him of his mate, and for that there would be no mercy. Even if
she got off this ship alive, he’d hunt her down and kill her.
Jasmine’s breathing quickened and surging adrenaline set up a fine vibration in her
joints, but she forced herself to sit there and stare back at him. She’d known this
was a possibility. No wimping out now.
God, she had to pee. Nerves had made it impossible for her to eat more than a few
bites of the pizza they’d brought aboard, but she’d guzzled enough Diet Pepsi to float
a battleship while she sounded Monica out about the state of her sex life. And once
Monica admitted she hadn’t slept with Shauss yet, Ambassador Pret had swooped in and
whisked her away before Jasmine could ask where the bathroom was.
You should have gone before you left the planet.
She swallowed hard, locking down a giggle. If she so much as squeaked now, she’d break.
Kellen straightened, his long tawny hair scattering over his shoulders, his thunderous
blue eyes never wavering from hers. “Minister, this female has cost Lieutenant Shauss
his chance at a mate. He must be compensated.”
“Lieutenant, the female is yours,” the Garathani minister replied.
The killer bees gathered to strike. “Take her, Shauss,” he said flatly, “and make
it as painful as you possibly can.”
Jasmine gaped at him.
Take
her?
Her eyes dropped to the scissors she’d just used to cut Monica’s hair, but before
she could snatch them up, Shauss grabbed the collar of her blouse and hauled her sideways
out of the chair.
“No!”
As he swung her around, Jasmine caught a glimpse of Shelley’s shocked face and bitterly
regretted not getting the little nurse off the ship while she had the chance. She
shouldn’t have to witness this, especially in her condition.
Fighting panic, Jasmine lashed out sideways with her right foot, but her skirt was
too tight—the kick didn’t even come close to touching him. Shit, how was she supposed
to defend herself against a seven-foot alien whose arms were probably longer than
her legs?
Shauss reeled her in closer and Jasmine screamed in growing horror, clawing at his
wrist and kicking out at him again. He restrained her with humiliating ease, pinching
her wrists together behind her back, and she shuddered at the vibrant energy blazing
from his palm. He’d never touched her before, never so much as shaken her hand. Why
did it have to happen now? Why this way?
When he ripped her skirt off, she froze, her heart fluttering like it was about to
stop altogether. This was all just a dream, another bizarre, stress-fueled dream.
She’d wake up any minute and—
His fingernails scraped her hip as he snapped her panties off and panic won. She screamed
and jumped and kicked and twisted hard enough to pull her arms from their sockets,
but she couldn’t break free of his brutal grip.
“Shauss, please don’t,” she cried.
His boot swept her feet out from under her and she went down hard, barely turning
her head in time to avoid landing on her nose.
He followed her down, leaning hard on her wrists, still pinned in the small of her
back. The pressure on her bladder made her squirm with a different kind of panic.
“What’s the matter, Jasmine?” he asked. “Don’t you want me?”
“No!”
“That’s funny, I heard you did.”
Nauseating heat gushed up her neck into her cheeks and she closed her eyes, pressing
her forehead into the smelly blue biologic pad. His mocking observation cast an ugly
light on her actions, but damn it, she’d had no choice. Monica had signed on to care
for the Garathanis’ sexual recruits, not to become one of them, and the fact that
she’d turned out to be half Garathani didn’t change that. She was an American citizen
and, as such, entitled to choose her own mate. She wouldn’t get that choice while
she was trapped on a Garathani vessel.
Jasmine seized that righteous anger and held on, taking deep breaths to center herself.
Monica was free now, and that was all that mattered.
The long, slow buzz of a zipper crawled over her skin like an electric current and
she stiffened again. This could
not
happen. If they discovered what she was, her father’s life would be in jeopardy.
What would happen to her didn’t even bear thinking about.
