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Authors: Tracy St. John

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BOOK: Shalia's Diary
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I have to chalk up my bad chicken to inexperience from the Kalquorian cooks.  The ronka and pilchok were five-star all the way.

 

It was with great relief when Mom finished eating her meal and was escorted to the rec room by the ever patient Weln.  I couldn’t bear another bite of chicken though.  I made nice conversation with the other women for as long as seemed respectable before I begged off, citing my recent illness and continuing weakness.  I went back to my room.  I managed to snag an orderly on my way and begged him for a nice ronka and pilchok meal of my own.  He had it to me in less than ten minutes.  It was heavenly.

 

I’m having it for dinner too, here in the privacy of my room, with no judgmental Earthers to look at me like I just drowned the baby Moses.  I’ve decided communing with my own kind over a meal is vastly overrated.

 

 

September 9

 

Oh my God.  I have officially lost my mind.  I don’t even want to write this down.  If anyone ever knew, I’d be hanging from a tree.  Or worse.  Much, much worse.  I cannot fathom why I would do such a thing. 

 

Okay.  Deep breath.  Here I go, from the beginning.

 

I got the clearance to try a little solo walk.  It looked nice outside, so I ventured out.  For a wonder, the humidity wasn’t instant sauna.  It was still a little hot, but there was a nice breeze.  It felt good to be in the sun for a change.

 

Behind the medical building is a little concrete path.  This trail winds down to the Memorial Garden, a place where fallen officers who had attended the Academy are remembered.  There are plaques on a series of tall marble walls that enclose benches and flowerbeds in a huge semi-circle.  It’s very nice and peaceful, even though the lack of recent landscaping has left only a few pretty posies dotting the spaces between weeds here and there.  The greenery is doing okay.  There is a big oak tree between two of the walls, casting plenty of shade over a few of the benches.

 

I’d overestimated my strength and underestimated the distance between Medical and the garden.  I’d walked a little over halfway to my goal when I began to flag.  I really should have turned back at that point, but I am so stupidly stubborn.  I’ve been bugging Nayun to let me out of Medical for the last couple of days, and I was determined to show him I was ready to be released.

 

It was, of course, a mistake.  I’d made it three-quarters of the way when I got really lightheaded.  The sun was suddenly too bright and too hot on my head.  The world started a gentle, slow rocking around me that made my legs wobble.  I knew I was about to land on my ass.

 

Then, like a dark beautiful angel in his skintight formsuit, I saw Dusa trotting across the expanse of pine tree studded lawn.  He smiled and waved at me, veering to head in my direction. 

 

I smiled and waved back, my ego insisting I pretend I had my shit together.  Unfortunately, I was physically incompatible with the task.  The earth tilted really hard at that point, and I started to fall.  The concrete walkway came at me in a big hurry to bash and bruise.  There wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.

 

I heard something similar to a rush of wind, and I was caught before I could finish my crash.  Big muscled arms clutched around me, saving me from who knows what injuries.  I looked up and there was Dusa, his face just inches from mine, wide purple eyes shocked.

 

“How did you get here so fast?” I said for lack of anything intelligent to utter.

 

“I ran.  Are you okay?”  He was crouched down where he’d caught me, holding me in his arms like a baby.

 

I felt my face flush.  Can you say embarrassing?  “I guess I overexerted myself a little.  Thanks for catching me.”

 

“Let me get you back to your room.”

 

I cringed to think of the humiliation of Dusa carting my weak ass into the building like I was some wilting damsel in distress.  Nayun would ground me for at least another week.  So I said, “I really wanted to go to the garden.  If you’ll help me, I can sit on a bench and get myself back together.”

 

Dusa hesitated.  I could tell he thought I should be back in bed, so I gave him a smile and batted my eyes.  Femme fatale, that’s me.  “Please?  I’ve been cooped up forever.”

 

Dusa relented.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but all right.  If you fade again, I’m taking you straight in.”

 

There was a little more discussion about whether I could walk myself to the garden (the lightheadedness had passed and I felt a lot better) or if he should carry me (humiliating!).  Finally we settled on me walking with him holding on to support me.  Call me the Queen of Compromise.

 

Leaning on my ever-faithful rescuer, I finally made it to the garden and we sat down on a marble bench under the oak tree’s shade.  Dusa kept his arm around me, as if I was going to pitch off my seat in a faint.  For a moment I found it amusing.  I thought we might look like sweethearts to a casual passerby, all romantic and gooey in a cliché movie setting (if you don’t count being surrounded by the names of the dead).

 

All at once I became really aware of his arm tight around my waist, his hand cupping my upper hip.  I felt all too well his strong, muscled body pressed to mine, side by side.  I even noted how he smelled:  raw and masculine with the hint of a sweetish-sharp spice.  I stared up into that handsome face looking down at me, hovering so close to mine, and my heart began to hammer wildly in my chest.  A funny warmth curled in my stomach, something I hadn’t felt since high school when I let Zach Smith kiss me behind the gym.

 

I don’t like sex, but the sudden vision I had of Dusa laying on top of me, kissing and touching me all over, brought a stab of want to my lower parts.  I felt wetness seeping from me.

 

Extremely shocked and somewhat terrified at my reaction to him, I jerked my gaze away to study the few purple and white flowers in the bed before us.  “You don’t have to work right now?”

 

With our bodies touching the way they were, I felt his voice as much as I heard it.  It rumbled low and dangerous, like the sound of thunder closing in.  “I’m working only single shifts for the next couple of days.  I was on my way to visit you when I saw you on the path.”

 

Sure he was coming to visit me.  His lie settled some of that weird reaction I was having to him.  I was able to breathe again.  “That’s very nice, Dusa.  I’m glad you came along when you did.”

 

He leaned down, tilting his head to get a better look at my face.  “You look wonderful, Shalia.  Healthier.  I think you’ve even put on a little weight.”

 

“Nayun finally let me eat something besides broth and nutrient mush yesterday.  I tried some ronka and pilchok.  It’s very good.”

 

He grinned at me.  “Brave girl.  Most Earthers won’t taste our food.  They insist on eating their own, though the cooks struggle with such unfamiliar ingredients.”

 

“No kidding.  Someone should tell them when chicken hits 165 degrees Fahrenheit, it’s done.”

 

Dusa chuckled.  “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”

 

We were silent for a few moments.  It wasn’t a comfortable silence, not when he still had his arm around me and I could feel every breath he took.  Looking to fill the quiet I asked, “Have you rescued anymore of us?”

 

He nodded.  “Three women and five children since you came in.  The last I heard, they were all doing well.”

 

“That’s nice.  So you’ve had the chance to visit them since you brought them in?”

 

He looked at me, and I felt captured by his gaze.  I couldn’t look away for the life of me.  “I’ve only visited you.”

 

I just sat there, staring like someone who’s been hypnotized.  I mean, what do you say to that?  Finally I choked out, “How did I get so lucky?”

 

I have no idea why I said such a thing.  I’m not even sure what I meant by it.  But there was no doubt in how Dusa took my statement.

 

“I like you, Shalia.  I like your spirit.  Your strength.  You fought for yourself and your mother until you no longer could.”  He laughed.  “I think you might have fought forever if you hadn’t become so ill.”

 

I swallowed.  The way he looked at me ... well, it just knocked the air out of my lungs.  I’ve been looked at sexually before.  Men who had the power to get me in their beds took full advantage of it.  But no one had ever stared at me the way Dusa did.  It wasn’t just bald, ugly lust in his eyes.  There was also fascination and deep consideration.  It was as if he didn’t simply want me so he could demonstrate his power or get his selfish pleasure.  I got a sense of something like reverence.  It’s impossible to really describe since I’m not sure of what exactly it was.

 

I know one thing for sure though.  Whatever that emotion was that he was communicating made me completely lose my mind.  When he lifted my chin, I didn’t resist.  When his face closed in to kiss me, I didn’t shy away. 

 

His lips moved against mine, soft and gentle, like the brush of a bird’s feather.  I forgot how to think.  It was like all I could do was feel.  My mouth opened a little, seeking more.  Dusa’s tongue crept in, tasting me a bit at a time. 

 

I felt like I melted inside.  I went weak all over again, like I would fall.  As if sensing it, Dusa held me tight against him, deepening the kiss.  His tongue swept inside my mouth, raspy like the finest sandpaper.  It stroked mine, and the heat of his kiss swept through my skull, traveled down my spine, and burst into flame down below.  I wasn’t just melting.  My insides boiled.  I have never felt anything like it, and if I’d had any sense of what I was doing before, it was absolutely gone in that instant.

 

I touched him as the kiss went on and on.  One arm was trapped against him, but the free one more than made up for being on its own.  It was as if my sense of touch had been starving, and I was determined to devour Dusa through feeling him.  I traced his strong jawline.  My hand swept down his corded throat.  I felt the width of one shoulder and gasped at the hard iron of his bicep.  His chest was the width of a football field, and I explored that for what felt like ages.  His abdomen was granite.  There was nothing soft about Dusa.  He was all rock and steel and strength.  It should have made me afraid.  Even at my healthiest, I would have no defense against such a man.  But instead I felt sheltered.  Safe.

 

More than that, I’d become desperately aroused.  While I touched Dusa, he touched me.  His tongue twined around mine, sometimes drawing it into his mouth, sometimes pushing it back so he could invade my mouth with passion.  He held me tight with one arm in an uncompromising grip.  His free hand stroked my hair.  He cupped my cheek to tilt my head just so, allowing him to deepen our kiss.  His fingers stroked down my throat, traced over my collarbone, and trailed down my arm.  Then they returned to the hollow of my throat.  Slowly, slowly, that whispering touch drifted down to my breastbone.

 

A hundred moths took flight in my belly.  Would he go further?  Would he dare?

 

He did.  His hand covered one breast, heating it.  I arched with a cry, as if I could fill his hand even more with it.  I had lost all control.

 

His thumb found my nipple and stroked over it, bringing it to stiff attention.  The sensation was pure fire, adding to the conflagration already burning an inferno in my belly.  I was like a volcano, lava roiling within, eager to get out.

 

Who knows how far I would have let Dusa take me?  If not for the sound of laughter breaking into our senses, I might have let him do whatever he wanted.  I’d become no more than an animal in heat, ready to rut as any thoughtless beast might.  Since this morning, I have decided that we are little more than primitive creatures, obeying nothing more than the instincts we are born with.  Why else would I have responded so eagerly to the sexual urgings of a man I hardly know?

 

It was the sound of others in the distance that woke us from our would-be mating frenzy.  We simultaneously broke the kiss, gasping in shock.  I suddenly realized how we were outside and anyone might have stumbled upon our wild display.  A vision of the Pageant Trio with their disapproving faces appeared before my mind’s eye.  I thought of the two women I’d seen hanged outside the Academy. 

 

I have lost my mind.

 

The moment broken and our senses restored, Dusa helped me back to Medical.  He wanted to stay, to talk with me, but I couldn’t take his presence for even one second more.  Begging exhaustion, I sent him away.  Now I’m dealing with the fallout of what just happened.

 

I carried on carnally with a man where anyone might see me.  And not just a man, an alien man.  A Kalquorian, Earth’s avowed enemy.  I can’t believe I let such a thing happen.

 

More disturbing, I can’t get over how good it felt.  I ache for more.  I’m not saying ‘ache’ as a metaphor.  I want to kiss that man again so bad it hurts.  The thought of what might have happened if we hadn’t come to our senses in time scares me, but it excites me too. 

 

Have they been putting something in my food?  Something that will make me want to join one of their clans so they can breed?  Something that puts my hormones into overdrive so that the slightest clandestine touch makes me eager to be mounted by one of their men?

 

Somehow I can’t see Dr. Nayun doing such a thing.  He treats me like I’m his daughter, and I have no carnal urges where he is concerned, nor any of the orderlies roaming around Medical.  So what is it about Dusa?  I’ve never wanted sex before.  It’s always been something to get through, to endure, to survive.  Still, my body is clamoring for more than just a kiss.  I want to feel Dusa’s naked body on mine.  I’m dying to feel his mouth and hands all over me.  I even want to feel him inside of me, rutting hard and fast, giving me that funny, ticklish, hot feeling again. 

 

I really have gone crazy.  There is no other explanation.

 

 

September 10

 

Ah crap, who am I kidding?  I have a huge crush on a Kalquorian.  Not that I’m going to be shouting it from the rooftops, you understand.  I like being alive.

 

But Dusa is such a sweetheart.  When I sent him away yesterday, he checked on my mom.  She was in a funk because she was about to run out of yarn for knitting.  She sat in the rec room crying because, as she put it, “Shalia’s ears will be cold if I don’t make her a hat for this winter.”

 

Please note, I have never worn a hat.  Of any kind.  Ever.  Even while living in Washington, D.C.

 

And to boot, she only wanted one particular kind of yarn, a specific brand none of the nearby pillaged stores have left lying on their shelves in this podunk area.  Not that looters were snagging balls of yarn in their frenzy to entertain abandoned cats.  No, I have to assume that particular brand just never made it to this town.

 

So what did Dusa do yesterday?  He spent his off hours shuttling from town to town, combing arts and crafts stores for frickin’ yarn, of all things.  He finally found the very brand three hours away in Augusta.  He grabbed every last skein in every single color he could find, too. 

 

After his visit this evening (sitting with me and Mom in my hospital room, eating a dinner of – you guessed it, ronka, mashed potatoes, and pilchok), Mom has close to a hundred skeins of yarn, enough to put all of Earth’s survivors and the Empire of Kalquor in knitted caps for years.  She's like a kid in a candy store, going through bag after bag of yarn, exclaiming and smiling and planning afghans and shawls and christening gowns.  I don’t know if I should hug Dusa or throttle him.

 

That he would go to such lengths to make an ill elderly woman happy goes a long way with me though.  I mean, I was already half-crazy over him after our little tryst in the garden.  Now I’m like a pre-teen panting over a movie star.  It’s stupid, but there it is.  I have a bad case of infatuation with a guy not even the same species as me.  Some would call that sick and maybe it is, but I can’t seem to talk myself out of it.

 

So when Dusa asked me to have dinner with him and his Nobek clanmate tomorrow night, I said yes.  I barely even thought twice about it.  Nayun, who stopped in during the visit, gave me the okay as long as I don’t get overtired.  Then he drilled Dusa on how carefully I am to be treated.  Sheesh.  I almost asked my Kalquorian dad if I could have the keys to the family shuttle and to extend my curfew by an hour.  He’s such an overprotective Imdiko.

 

Now I’m nervous as hell.  What did Dusa tell his clanmate about me?  Did he share how we got a little too up close and personal yesterday?  Will Dusa expect more kissing ... or even sex?  Of course he promised Nayun I’d be treated with the utmost care and respect.  But will he stick to that?

 

I get myself into the darnedest predicaments.  This time it’s all because I liked the way Dusa kissed me and how nice he is to my mom.  What kind of craziness is this?  I am such an idiot.

 

 

September 11

 

Oh boy, oh boy, boy oh.  I am so darned nervous.  My ‘dates’ are picking me up in a few minutes.  I hate to call it that, but what else do you call dinner with a couple of Kalquorian men?  Besides immoral, that is.  Name it and claim it, Shalia.  I am going on a date with Dramok Dusa and his Nobek, Esak.

 

Mom’s at ‘respite care’ as they are calling it.  Essentially, she’s in the rec room, sitting in her favorite chair and knitting while orderlies keep an eye on her and a couple others that have issues getting to sleep.  She didn’t put up much of a fuss about her routine being messed with, especially since I escorted her there myself.

 

Going to and from the rec room meant passing through the dining area.  And guess who I saw as I made my escape?  Yes, the entirely too lovely and tidy Pageant Trio (or the P.T. as I’ve decided to call them).  They waved and called me over.  I hadn’t bothered getting ready for my date tonight, so of course I was all hagged out next to their coiffed perfection.  Ah, I have self image issues, don’t I?  But boy, they rub me the wrong way with their smarmy smiles and oh-so civilized demeanors.  You’d think they’d never strained to shove out a single turd in their lives.

 

Okay, I’m putting the bitchiness away.  I am being petty and hateful for no real good reason, not to mention gross.

 

Of course they wanted to know why they haven’t seen me since the one time.  I told them, “I’ve been working on building my strength up.  I get tired so easily, which often doesn’t make me very good company.”  Plus, I’m eating ronka and pilchok fit to put the two creatures on the endangered species list, right there with mankind.

 

“Well, you come eat with us when you’re able to,” Deirdra invited me.  “I’ve heard you used to work for the government.  I’m dying to know how much warning they had before the Kalquorians destroyed our home and murdered everyone.”

 

I should have kept my mouth shut, but I just couldn’t resist.  Not with that brunette Barbie doll practically salivating to hear the gory details.

 

I told them, “Oh no.  It wasn’t like that at all.  When Earth Gov found out Kalquor had broken through the wormhole, they blew up the cities themselves.  They’d planted the explosives there for just such an eventuality so the righteous could go to God rather than be lost to our enemies.  Praise be to the Church for its foresight.”

 

Okay, so I fudged the real truth a tiny bit and totally hid the fact I was being sarcastic.  It was worth it to see the P.T. look at me with such shock.  I gave them an exalted smile, as if the light of heaven shone down upon me to warm me in its glow.  Then I left.

 

I really am an awful person.  Oh well, to thine own self be true.

 

Oh hell, checking the time.  Dusa and Esak will be here any minute now to escort me to their quarters for our private meal.  My heart is going a million miles a minute.  I wonder what Dusa’s Nobek will be like?  Nobeks are the warriors of Kalquor, the fiercest members of their race.  They were the ones on the front lines of the war.  It was their dead that I saw in the pictures provided for my films.  They looked horribly bestial in death, so I can’t imagine how one looks alive and kicking.  Should I really be doing this?  What if I make Esak mad?  Will Dusa keep me safe from his own clanmate?  Can he keep me safe?  And are they assuming sex will happen?  I should call and beg off.  I am starting to feel sick, so it wouldn’t be a lie.  Nevermind it’s nerves making my stomach twist, it’s a valid

BOOK: Shalia's Diary
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