Alien Invasion: A Warrior Prince Romance (The Tourin Legacy - Part 1) (5 page)

She waves my comment away impatiently and
jumps out of the copilot’s seat. “No, what I need to do is start
planning.”

I smile.
Most people feel groggy when
they first awake. My warrioress wakes ready for battle.
“Do you
want something to eat before launching back into all of this?”

She shakes her head. “No time.”

“There’s always time.”

She starts to pace. “What I need is more
information on the toxin and the cats.”

I sigh as the tattoo pokes at me again.
Remember you felt this way not too long ago. She’ll need time to
accept the truth.

“Tell me about the toxin.”

It’s a request, but beneath it I sense a
core of steel.
She isn’t going to let this go.

I stand and look down into the eyes of my
mate, and my heart squeezes with anguish. I remember when I was
just like her. Filled with hope. Praying that against all odds we’d
be able to conquer the toxin and the Ardaks.

I can’t bear to tell her about the smell.
The skies turning red as blood. The crying and the screaming as the
youngest and eldest of us dropped in their tracks. The countless
hours our scientists worked to no avail.
So what can I tell
her?

“Our scientists have concluded it is from a
plant—many presume it’s on the Ardak homeworld. Did you notice
their eyes glow red? We think that, although it’s a toxin to us,
they are addicted to it.”

“And none of your medicines helped?”

I clench my fists so I don’t hit something.
The pain is too fresh.
What didn’t we try?
My father met
with our top doctors, scientists, and researchers morning, noon,
and night. “Please forgive me. I’m not a doctor, so I don’t know
everything. All I know is that for some reason, this plant toxin is
different than anything we’d encountered before.”

“If it’s a plant toxin, what about a plant
medicine?”

Plant medicine?
I try to hide my
surprise. Only a truly backward planet would still depend on plants
for cures. A picture forms in my mind of the people smearing mud on
their wounds to heal themselves.

I try not to laugh. “We haven’t needed
herbal medicines in centuries. I doubt they could provide a cure
that our medicine couldn’t.”

“Why not? Perhaps a plant toxin needs a
plant cure.”

Once again, she amazes me. “An interesting
notion. I didn’t think you would know about plants or toxins.”

She freezes, a slight blush gracing her pale
cheeks. “Being a princess doesn’t just mean wearing pretty dresses
and dancing at balls, at least on my planet. It means that when my
people suffer, I suffer. Many times in my life I’ve tended to the
sick and wounded. Throughout our many wars and when plagues have
swept our lands.”

Again, I’m surprised by the differences in
our people. How long had it been since we’d had a war or a plague
before the invasion? These people were truly still a youthful,
inexperienced civilization. “So you are both a warrior and a
healer.” Even with the differences in technology, she would make a
fine princess even to my own people.

“I wouldn’t call myself a healer,” she said,
her voice taking on a soft note. “I just know that for every plant
toxin, there is a plant cure. Healer Surtoga always said so.”

I tilt my head skeptically. “Perhaps. But my
people have already tried every possible avenue. If there were a
plant cure available, we would have found it.”

“You haven’t tried my planet.”

A spark of unexpected hope flares in my
chest, but instantly I stamp it down. It’s possible, but very, very
unlikely.

I motion to the door exiting the bridge.
“That’s true. As I said, I’m not a scientist—or a doctor. Let me
take you to a different room where you will have access to all of
our records. You can look through all of our video files.”

“Video files?” she asks as she follows me
out the door and down the hall.

Right.
“Do you have television on
your planet?”

She looks at me blankly.

“It’s a video that flies through the air
from a transmitting antenna, to be caught by the receiving antenna,
and projected onto a screen.”

“Oh! Invisiview! Yes, we have it.”

I’m relieved she has some concept of this
technology. Although based on my experience on her planet,
Invisiview is probably very different from our video system.

Her green eyes show a spark of interest, and
despite the direness of the situation, I’m glad I can share it with
her.

As I suspected, our technology is worlds
apart. I laugh as she asks about “reels” of video and enjoy the
look of shock and wonder as I show her the screen I use for
research. Thirty minutes later, she’s a pro.
So smart. So quick
and curious.

She pulls up a video of the sky back at
Tuorin. Red rolls across it as the poison is released into the
atmosphere. My entire chest tightens, and I realize I’m shaking as
I try to catch my breath. I’d thought the horrifying images in my
mind were bad, but actually seeing a video of it again triggers
emotions I’ve been trying to suppress.
I need to get out of
here.

I brush my fingers down her back, trying to
sound calm. “Feel free to watch anything you like. I’m going back
to the bridge.”

She glances up at me, and her eyes widen.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think—”

“It’s fine.”
How can she read me so
easily?

“I know this is hard, but I’m going to find
a way to save my people, and yours.”

Taking a step away from her, I hide my
doubt. “Let me know if you need anything.”

As much as I hate the fact that she knows
why I’m leaving, I’m still going to go.

Besides the horror I feel at the images, the
tattoo on my shoulder is starting to poke at me insistently. I’m
leaving so I can keep my hands off her.

I watch the vids mostly in disbelief.
Juordin’s planet is so far ahead of mine, the technology so
advanced, that it’s difficult to focus only on the information
about the toxins. Even the words they use to describe things are
difficult to understand. I grab paper and a writing instrument
after only a few minutes, and kept stopping the video to take
notes.

I’m beginning to understand why Juordin
believes there’s no cure. The scientists on his planet really have
tried everything they can think of, and most of them are still
working on it. The video in front of me is the last one, and a
scientist speaks to a person with a microphone. The camera angle is
very close, and I can see that the air has a reddish tint.

“Is there anything we can do?” The
questioner’s voice has a helpless note to it.

The scientist rubs his chin. “The only thing
we’ve found to slow the progression of the toxin is
endorphins.”

“Endorphins—you mean like…”

“The ones produced when exercising, when
laughing, and even from the healing bunk.” He clears his throat.
“But despite all the drugs and tools we’ve created, the best method
of producing them for this purpose is by having sex.”

The questioner almost drops the microphone
in surprise. “You mean…”

“Everyone should have as much sex as
possible. Yes.” The scientist looks directly at the camera. “We
will be distributing the supply of endorphins we have for healing
bunks, but it would obviously be helpful if all citizens would try
their best to create their own endorphins. The supply will go first
to the unmated citizens, and citizens too young for mates.”

The video ends, and I start another one.
This one discusses the time frame of the toxin. My heart sinks as I
hear their conclusion. At best, even with the endorphin treatments,
they have one year to live.

One year before an entire race of people
dies.

I feel sick. Climbing to my feet, I turn and
head back to the command room.

“Juordin.” His purple gaze turns to
mine.

I blink back tears. “If we don’t do
something, all of our people will be dead soon, and it will just be
you and me.”

He turns to look out the viewscreen,
avoiding my gaze. “Listen…”

“How did it happen for you? Were you in
space, too, when the virus hit?”

“No,” he says, softly. “I was on
Tuorin.”

My mind turns slowly. “How is that
possible?”

He doesn’t answer me.

Every hair on my body stands on end as a
chill runs through my blood. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t, hiding his face behind his long
waves of brown and gold hair.

“Look at me, dammit.”

Finally he does, and I hate the pain in his
eyes. I hate what it means.

I can’t seem to catch my breath. “Are
you…dying?”

“Yes,” he whispers, the word barely
perceivable over the noise of the engine.

Deadly silence fills the room. I have no
words to fill the empty space. The ache in my heart.

After a few minutes, he speaks again, his
voice low. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Sorry?” The word seems meaningless in this
situation.

He nods. “I know this is a lot.”

“No.” I raise my head. “We’ll put you in the
healing…thing, and you’ll be fine.”

He gives me a slight smile, one that seems
sad. “Even then, you know my time is limited. And I need to
recharge it again before I can use it.”

“So recharge it,” I order him, crossing my
shaking arms over my chest.

He takes a deep breath. “The only way to
charge it is to go back to Tuorin.”

Again, I have that odd feeling, as if
everything is hitting me at once, but my mind just can’t process
what I’m hearing. “So why did you turn around instead of going
there first?”

His gaze flies to the viewscreen again,
avoiding mine.

I cross the bridge to where he sits in the
captain’s chair. Emotions flood my senses. I want to scream at him.
I want to hit him. I want to hold him.

But in the end I just stand there,
paralyzed.

Waiting for an answer.

“Because you asked me to.” The words are
quiet.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand.

“Would it have changed your mind?” he
counters.

I throw my hands up in the air. “Damn right
it would have.”

He starts. “Really?”

“Of course. You didn’t give me any options.
If I’d known we could recharge your healing bunk and then go back
to Lla’ei, I would have done it.”

He looks out the window again. “Then I
apologize. Since the toxin hit…I haven’t been myself. We were about
to go through the wormhole. You were demanding to go back. I had
taken you without permission…so I made the best decision I could at
the time.”

He looks tired. Beaten.

I instantly feel ashamed for yelling at him.
His entire planet is dying. He’s sick himself. And he gave up
the chance to charge his healing bunk for you. Who knows how sane
you would be in his place?

Another thought hits me. “But…isn’t there
another way to help heal you…to prolong the effects of the
poison?”

His heated gaze runs over my body, and I
feel my insides tighten. “Yes. A far better one than the healing
bunk.”

I push aside my sadness and my shock as a
quiver races through my body. I remember what the vid said.
Endorphins.
“Then, let me help you.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak.

I can’t resist the urge to hold him anymore.
He can push me away if he really wants to. I step forward and sit
on his lap, wrapping my arms around him.

It takes a second, but then I feel his arms
come around me in return. His embrace is strong, sure. It’s hard to
believe he’s dying.

You can’t change that, but there is
something you can do to prolong it.

I lean in and brush his lips with mine.

Chapter One

The private spacecraft touched down in the
ship yard with a familiar groan. Hannah swung her booted feet off
the oversized chair in front of her, and pressed her palms against
the window. A few people outside had turned to stare.

Her dad just had to travel in style! Yeah,
the small craft moved faster and smoother than most, but just the
sight of it would tell everyone that someone uncommonly wealthy and
powerful travelled inside.

Which was exactly the opposite of what she
wanted.

At least mother hadn’t come. The woman had
been a sobbing mess. The academy was already like a ghost, its
memories haunting her mother with every step. Seeing her daughter
there… Hannah couldn’t even imagine how badly that would’ve
ended.

But how to deal with her father?

She leaned back in her chair and regarded
him.
Here goes nothing!

“It might be better if you waited in the
ship,” she suggested in her least argumentative voice.

Her father lowered his computer interface,
one brow raised in annoyance. “Do you think I travelled with you
all the way here simply to-- how did you put it? Wait in the
ship?”

Disappointment flared. A true parent
would’ve understood that an adult child deserved independence. Even
on one of the most important days of her life, it was ‘the
commander’ escorting her to the academy, not her father. She
should’ve known the moment he’d donned his deep blue uniform,
perfectly starched and pressed as always.

You did know
, her brain insisted, but
the ache in her heart said she’d hoped she was wrong.

“Please?” she forced a smile.

He raised his interface once more, so only
his neatly trimmed, steel-gray hair peeked over the top of it. “I
pulled more strings than you can possibly imagine to allow you to
attend The Starflight Academy under your mother’s maiden name. Even
though I consider it an insult to my family. I will not act as your
chauffeur, too.”