The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) (29 page)

Julia stripped with soft languid motions until she stood as bare and open as he.

“No place I’d rather be, Handsome.” She whispered, soft and husky, into his skin; moving to lay her body over his.

~*~

“Would you like me to signal a hovrick, Colonel Holden?” The reception clerk asked when she saw their shopping and luggage the next morning.

Mark grinned. “Yeah, thanks.”

A hovrick was a rickshaw hovercraft hybrid.  It still had the man to steer it and the fold back roof, but the vehicle floated on a cushion of air instead of a single axle with two large wheels.  Once they were aboard, Mark gave the driver the lot number where they’d left the glider and settled back to enjoy the short ride.  His shoulders pressed against Julia’s in the snug space.

It was like sitting on a mobile trampoline.  Every stop-start and give way their driver made along the crowded route had his passengers swaying in their seats.  Combined with the miasma of the market Julia would have preferred to walk.

“Would’ve been easier to walk.” Mark echoed her thoughts and she smiled at him.

“We’re nearly there, right?”

He nodded, gaze lingering on the excess of décolletage Julia had on display.

“It’s more revealing than it looked on the stall.” She shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the way the ethnic wrap top clung, despite how well it went with her jeans. “The girls aren’t used to this much exposure.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He dragged the back of his hand over the curve of one breast and up to tug the wide shoulder strap. “The girls seem happy enough to me.”

She gave his knee a playful slap. “No surprises there.”

“No, indeed.”

Julia threw her head back and laughed, exposing the long line of her neck as well.  Mark shifted his duffel further across his lap just as the glider came into view.

The spaceship parking lot was every bit as crowded as the marketplace.  A melting pot of traders arriving and departing in an incessant broil of engine drone, and high-pitched squeal of animals snatched from open fields to pay their owners debts with their hides.

Julia had stopped by the hovrick while Mark unloaded their bags, fascinated by a pretty little ship descending into the vacant lot across the way.  She was wondering what it’d be like to fly her when a massive hand closed around her neck and squeezed.  Her hands flew to her throat, long legs thrashing in mid-air as her attacker lifted her with ease.  She tried to kick, tried to aim for tender places, but her brain had no focus for anything other than its need for oxygen.

A human wearing a black neon collar and cuffs moved in front of her.  Julia increased her pathetic struggles to get free, to scream for Mark.  And why wasn’t the hovrick pilot doing anything?  He just sat there, eyes staring straight ahead while they took her.  The cuffs weighed on her wrists like iron; lighting up when the catch was secured.  They hummed like the drone of bees and the hairs on her arms stood at attention in fright.

The fist around her throat released as abruptly as it had closed.  She collapsed in a heap at the Arcadian’s cloven feet and the woman synched the collar in place.

Julia could hear someone yelling beyond the collar’s hum in her ears and the voice in her head ordering her to her feet.  She obeyed, following the other woman into line behind twelve others; mostly women, two men, and a boy who couldn’t have been more than ten.  She jolted to attention when her collar connected to the others and stepped forward when the women in front of her did.  A line of zombies no better than any other livestock bought and sold at Acilajan’s market.

There was someone she thought she should remember.  Someone important.  Not as important as walking in line, of course, because nothing was more important than that.  But someone, nonetheless.  Someone with rough hands that could be so gentle.  A deep voice that was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.  And eyes that looked on her as if she were precious, someone treasured.

The voice in her mind agreed.  Her master would treasure her, provided she obeyed.  She shivered at the images projected into her mind.  She would obey.  A bellow of laughter filled her thoughts, flowing with icy heat down her spine to settle deep in her bones. 

‘What a good little slave you be, Red.’

She preened as the voice stroked her mind, distracted her from the noise outside her collar’s hum.  Red, she liked it; hoped her master would call her that.  The voice rumbled with amusement and she ducked her head, only to jerk it back up when needles of fire stabbed her throat.

‘Keep that head up or you will lose it.’

Red the slave trembled at the voice’s threat. 

She would remember. 

She would obey.

New images filled her mind; a new collar and cuffs, red with silver hoops and so pretty against her pale skin.  A reward for a slave who did her master’s bidding.

Yet the other persisted.  A sense of belonging held tight in her heart and fought against the lure of a master who wanted her for his own.  The voice encouraged, turned seductive.  Red shivered at the thought of giving her body to her master for his pleasure.  But the other, Julia, was stronger than Red.  She shared with her the fiery eyes and the memory of a touch more real than a master they were yet to know.

The voice grew angry, reverberating within her mind as the collar shocked her again.

‘You are slave.  That is all.’

Red whimpered, but Julia stood defiant in the mind she owned.

‘NO!’

Her collar shocked an increased charge and she fell to her knees, dragged forward by the obedient slaves.  The voice’s mocking echoed too loud and she covered her ears, tried to block it out, but it was inside her; stripping away her intimate thoughts, leaving her exposed.

Then it was gone; silenced. 

Her mind felt empty and she searched into the vacuum, bewildered.

“Julia!”

Sound surged in on her, loud and harsh and painful.  Too-bright light assaulted her eyes.

“Julia! Fucking hell! Julia, c’mon, snap out of it, Beautiful! C’mon!”

The hands she’d remembered gripped tight to the back of her skull and yanked on her wrists.  She blinked and they were there, those eyes.  She would never forget their remarkable color, or the way she felt when they lingered on her.

“Mark?”

“Oh,
thank
Christ.”

He crushed her to him, wetness seeping from his clothing across her bare skin.

“I’m here.  I’ve got you.”

Julia clung to him as he shifted in the gravel, got his legs under him and stood with her in his arms; T60 pressed hard in the back of her knees.

Mark turned back toward the glider and she saw the two Arcadian corpses, riddled with holes and oozing pink syrup; the group of dazed humans were helping each other free of their shackles.  She raised a hand to her throat and hissed.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” Mark soothed, voice a choked and shattered remnant of itself.

She tucked her head into the crook of his neck and he jostled her higher in his arms.  He did have her, and she hoped like hell he always would.

~*~

The bench seat in the rear cabin was the first thing Julia saw when she opened her eyes.  She was naked under a scratchy military blanket and Mark’s arm lay heavy across her hip.  The rest of him pressed reassuring against along her back, breath a hot whisper across her nape.

He’d made a nest out of blankets and an air mattress for them in the floor space.  She smiled, reaching her mind out to Glider one.  The ship answered with a gentle stroke to Julia’s consciousness and she flinched; too soon. 

Mark’s arm tightened in his sleep and she ran a soothing touch to his inner wrist.  All systems were on full alert.  If anyone, or anything, approached wherever Mark had hidden them, they’d know about it.

Julia pulled her arm from under the blanket and stared at her wrist in the low light.  A sheen of ointment shielded the abrasion from infection.  She tilted up her chin and felt more there too.  It’d been a close call.  She didn’t want to dwell on how close, how easily she’d submitted.  Logically, she knew it was the collar’s influence combined with the Arcadian slaver’s subliminal suggestions.  If Mark hadn’t got to her when he did.

It didn’t bear thinking about.  The collar’s connection might be severed, but she still remembered the images the slaver had projected into her head.  She shivered and tucked her arm back under the blanket, and wriggled closer to Mark’s enticing heat.

Dragonus was not just the sexy exterior portrayed on screen.  It was as dark and seedy and dangerous as any place where one side wanted power and domination over another.

Chapter 22

Mark and Julia walked down Glider one’s ramp, hand and hand, to find Hayden and Ange waiting for them.  Neither looked as happy as Julia had hoped they’d be when they saw them next, and the knot she’d had in her stomach a week ago was back.  Whatever news their friends were about to impart, neither she nor Mark were going to like it.

“Let’s go and unpack.” Ange picked up Mark’s duffel and two of the four hessian bags from Julia’s over-stretched fingers.

“I’ll catch you up.” Mark called after them as Julia followed Ange across the Birdcage to the access bridge.

It was obvious Hayden wanted to talk to him alone.  She didn’t need to be present to find out what was going on.  Mark would tell her later or Ange would tell her in a few moments when they reached their quarters.  It was at this point in her mental wonderings, she realized Hayden and Ange meeting them at the Birdcage was more a strategic maneuver, than the greeting of much-missed friends it had appeared to be.

Julia dumped her bags on the bed and turned to her friend with her
I’ll have the truth now, thanks, and don’t leave anything out,
look.

“Okay!” Ange grinned, her hands up in a placating gesture. “It’s not as bad as you’re thinking, but it’s not all that great either.”

“Okay.”

Julia waited, the knot in her stomach refusing to budge without first knowing all there was to know.

“Colonel Archer has been recalled.”

“What?!” Julia’s hands flew to her hips, mouth falling open in a soft oh of shock. 

She’d taken a portal to Earth less than a day after they had left on their honeymoon.  Colonel Archer’s comment to Mark about being back in a week made a bit more sense now.  She had known about the summons and wanted Phoenix’s military commander on deck when her replacement arrived.  Julia paced, wishing she was on the quay instead of in her quarters which allowed for a maximum of fifteen high-tension strides before needing to turn. 

“By who?” She asked, tone incredulous. 

Her understanding of the military’s inner workings here in Phoenix City was limited at best, but it seemed to her that Colonel Sarah Archer pretty much had things under control – as much as one could when working with alien technology in a foreign galaxy.  It didn’t make sense to change her out for someone new.  Aside from anything else, Julia hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye to the woman who had not only permitted her to stay here with Mark, but given her an opportunity to prove herself professionally.

“Mr Thomas Clayton, of the Galactic Oversight Commission.” Ange groaned, righting a toppled bag as she slumped down on the bed.

“Oh.”

Ange had been right.  It wasn’t bad news, but it wasn’t great either.  Julia had met Thomas Clayton twice since she’d been on Phoenix.  He’d been polite, but disinterested.  And more focused on the handling of Earth’s presence in Dragonus; eager to report back to his superiors.  Colonel Archer had referred to them as performance reviews.  Julia considered them the GOC’s way of making sure Colonel Archer knew who tugged her leash.

“How long’s he been here?” Julia asked, sitting in one of the leather chairs and tucking her left foot behind her right knee.

“Two days.” Ange dropped her head in her hands, silken strands of blond hair falling forward in a protective curtain. “Everything’s so goddamn by the book.”

Julia sighed. “Which one?” 

“The GOC’s.  By all accounts, Thomas Clayton is their number one fan.”

“This’ll be fun for Mark, everything here goes by its own schedule and no one’s even found the operating manual, let alone read it.”

Ange chuckled. “That’s why we high-tailed it to the Birdcage when Hayden heard you were inbound.  Less risk of Mr Clayton ambushing Colonel Holden before Hayden could warn him.”

“Wise move.” Julia agreed, her suspicions about their greeting confirmed.

If it hadn’t been already, their honeymoon was definitely over now. 

Mr Clayton was a bespectacled weasel of a man who took shorthand notes during every conversation he participated in; leaving the other person feeling like they were being interrogated.

Julia’s initial reaction had been the desire to stomp on his head with her stilettoed boots, like the psycho flat mate from that movie. “Well, I suppose it’s possible to get used to anything, or anyone, given enough time.  Right?”

Ange groaned but neither confirmed nor denied Julia’s attempt at levity.

“Anything else happen while we were away?”

“No, all quiet on the western front, as they say.”

“Oh, so you had a holiday too?”

“No, I’ve been rather busy, actually.”

Julia laughed, unable to keep up the pretense any longer when all she wanted was to hear the gossip. “Really, doing what? Or should I say
who?”

“Thanks to you and Colonel Holden, Hayden finally made a move.”

“But was kissing you on the dancefloor at our reception, his only one?”

“Julia!” Ange scolded, breaking into a face-splitting grin. “Y’know, you’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“Uh huh, c’mon, spill.”

Ange lifted her chin, brown eyes reaching across the space between them, as she whispered. “Oh my God! His hands! The things he can do with…and his mouth…and he smells so damn
good!”

Julia felt her face heat and shifted positions, swapping her legs around so that her right foot was tucked behind her left knee; fingernails scoring tiny crescents into the butter-soft leather of the chair.  Ange’s confession reminded her of how Mark’s scent had enticed her into his arms, and amped up her need for him.  The heat in his kiss as he’d explored the inside of her mouth and the feel of his hands on her body.  She cleared her dry throat and attempted to tug the soft fabric of her tee away from the tight buds of her nipples without drawing attention to the action. “Ah, yeah, I can relate.”

“Somehow, I thought you might.” Ange pressed the back of her hand to one cheek then the other, while tugging at the neck of her uniform shirt.

Julia pushed herself up from the chair and moved to the bed with the thought of unpacking, when the sheen from two silver picture frames caught the corner of her eye.  The smaller one held a snapshot taken on the island; Mark with Julia wrapped in his arms.

Anora must have taken it in the moment when they’d thought they were saying goodbye.  She had captured Julia with her head nestled into Mark’s collarbone.  Her eyes closed and Mark resting his cheek atop her hair.  His arms enveloping her to him, far away gaze fixed on the horizon.  A moment captured for all eternity in the space between one breath and the next; one she remembered with absolute clarity.  The next thing Mark’d said was that he had to go back, and her reaction wouldn’t have made a good photo at all.

The larger frame held an image taken by someone in the bride’s side of the aisle, because they had captured Mark’s expression just as she had reached him and taken his arm.  It was beautiful, and exactly the kind of shot, Julia would have taken herself.  She loved to watch the groom in that moment when everyone else was watching the bride walk down to meet him.

“Yoohoo?” Julia came back from her memories to Ange waving a hand in front of her face. “Where did you go?”

“Oh, you know, about nine days ago.”

“They’re great, aren’t they?  Colonel Holden suits the castaway look.” Ange chuckled to herself. “Anora got them printed while you were away.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her later.”

“Now.” Ange changed subjects like a magpie chasing shiny things and started pulling clothes from Julia’s luggage. “I love this, and this, and this.”

“That’s lucky, since they’re for you.” Julia laughed; relieved to move onto the more serious subject of clothes. “But these, are for me.”

Sometime later, Mark and Hayden strolled through the opening doors and caught the last of Julia and Ange’s laughter.

“You’re gonna need more drawers.”

“Some of this is Ange’s”

“Three tops.” Ange scoffed and tossed a long sash of ethic print her friend, only to duck as it was tossed back again to land atop the impressive pile of recent purchases dominating the bed. “Don’t blame me for the exhausted state of your husband’s credit chip.”

“No, it’s all about haggling.” Julia explained, missing the joke in her eagerness to share her experience. “And once you settle on an acceptable price, you pay with these little wooden squares.  No doubt they made on the deal since I can’t read the symbols and there’s no logical exchange rate to speak of.  We would’ve spent longer but I wanted to see the liquid bronze ocean Mark’d been teasing me about, but then an Arcadian grabb-”

Mark tugged the hand Julia had unwittingly clasped over her throat.  The abrasions had healed away to nothing two days into the ocean part of their vacation.  Whether it was the powers of the ointment Mark had kept applying, or the gleaming water, Julia wasn’t sure.  She was just grateful they hadn’t scarred.  Mark entwined their fingers and wrapped both their arms around her waist, before smacking a loud kiss to her cheek.  It was an effective distraction for Julia, but it didn’t prevent a confused glance passing between their friends.

“Heard the news?”

“Yep.”

“Should make life interesting.”

“If there’s one thing this galaxy doesn’t need, is for things to get more interesting.”

Julia tensed with unwanted memories, too new to quash completely, and twisted to reach for a kiss.  Caught up in each other, it was a while before either of them became aware of the heated atmosphere and turned curious eyes on their friends.  Hayden and Ange were more than five feet apart and yet the look passing between them coursed with a heat and a longing so powerful, Julia felt her own body yearn in answer. 

“We should leave them alone.”

“Agreed.  But this is
our
room.”

“Ah, guys.” Julia gestured to Mark who was nuzzling her neck, arms wrapped tight beneath her breasts. “Mind if we have a moment alone?”

Ange was reaching for Hayden’s outstretched hand before Julia had finished her request. “Umm…sure…see you later…at…dinner.”

“Young love.” She murmured on a dreamy sigh as Mark leaned her back amid the tumble of tossed luggage.

“It’s good to be home.”

“I guess.” She arched into his body as he kissed her neck, inching his way down to her collarbone. “I’ll have to get used to sharing you with everyone, after having you all to myself for an entire week.”

His fingers stuttered on a button, humming as he leaned his head into the press of her hand in his hair, before working the rest free.  She wondered fleetingly how much of this they’d get to do, now that Mr By-the-Book Clayton was in charge.  Mark traversed the bare expanse of her throat, soft lips laying warm sucking kisses down between her breasts, and Julia decided she could think about that later; much, much, later.

~*~

Her zero-eight-hundred briefing with Mr Clayton was not something Julia was looking forward to.  

Mark had patted her ass and grinned, unrepentant, in response to her filthy look.  His meeting wasn’t until ten.

“You’ll be fine.  It’s not like he can send you home.  You’re a paramedic; not to mention the third fastest glider pilot on this base, and wife of the military commander.”

“I love how you just tagged that on at the end.”

“He’s just marking his territory.”

“Wonderful.”

Dressed in her BDUs, combat boots, tee, and jacket, she’d taken the relocator to the office level and now, stood poised on the threshold of the Commander in Chief’s office. 

Mr Clayton was seated at his desk; the likeness between him and the aforementioned weasel even more evident as he squinted at his laptop screen from behind narrow rectangular glasses.  He looked up at her knock and blinked to change his focus.

“Mrs Holden, do come in.  Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the three white leather chairs grouped together on the opposite side of the room.

“Mr Clayton.” Julia said, icy demeanor bordering on rudeness, and took the chair facing the door.

“I asked you here this morning to introduce myself and to gain a sense of what it is you do here.” Mr Clayton took the chair to her left and she changed hips so she could face him head on.

“We have met on two previous occasions, Mr Clayton, during your inspection tours with Colonel Archer.”

“I remember, Mrs Holden.  May I call you Julia?” Julia waved a dismissive hand in ascent and he continued. “But your situation, and status, has altered considerably since I was last here.  Have they not?”

“Yes.”

“Well…” Mr Thomas Clayton, Commander in Chief of Phoenix City in the Dragonus Galaxy, and lapdog of the GOC, had the decency to shift in his seat under her steely blue-eyed glare. “Your recent marriage to this base’s military comman-”

“Is none of your fucking business.” Julia bit her lip and shifted in her seat, she’d told herself she was going to be cool, calm, and collected. “All you need to know is what’s in my file.  I’m a trained EMT with thirteen years’ experience, I can fly helicopters, and I’m the number three X
2
pilot in this city.”