Alpha Star: Big Sky Alien Mail Order Brides #1 (Intergalactic Dating Agency): Intergalactic Dating Agency (17 page)

“And the fifth ring?” she murmured.

“What?”

“You said there were five.”

Why had he told her that? He’d never been the sort to sabotage himself. He took whatever he could get, just as he’d learned from running behind his brothers.

“The fifth ring doesn’t always appear.”

“Why not?”

“Because when it does, it can cause…problems.”

“So mysterious,” she muttered. “In what way?”

“Like the first ring, it’s internal. But even deeper.” He hesitated. “Through the heart.”

She jolted half upright, only his arm behind her keeping her from entirely leaving the bed. “What? Through the… Is that… I mean, that must be less dangerous than it’d be for an Earther.”

He hesitated even longer this time.

“Sin,” she said warningly.

He pulled her back to his chest even though she resisted, and he was glad again for his excessively strong grasp. “I told you it doesn’t always happen.”

“But how would you know?”

He shrugged his shoulder under her head. “I have no idea. I’ve never known anyone who had the fifth ring.”

Gradually, the tension eased out of her body. “Good,” she said fuzzily. “I mean, not good for them. I don’t want them to be alone. But…” She let out a low, drifting sigh. “I’m glad you don’t have a love bomb in your heart.”

“Me too.” As he traced abstract designs over her spine, her breathing grew gradually slower and deeper, calming the unrest seething in his veins.

A love bomb in his heart. He snorted softly to himself.

But she wasn’t that far off.

He slowly disentangled his arm from behind her and rose from the bed. The pulse that had stretched the neurons in her brain would keep her knocked out for awhile. She seemed so much smaller asleep, the vital energy that had drawn him to her from the very start, tamped down and turned inward. No doubt she would scowl if she heard him think it, but she looked vulnerable asleep. The protective instinct that rose in him was so decidedly not mercenary that he was tempted to scowl at himself.

Still naked, he took his utility device from the pocket of his jacket and walked to the far corner of the room to contact Honey.

He didn’t wait for any comments from his first officer, asking immediately, “Were you able to reconfigure Delaney’s IDA profile?”

“Easily,” Honey said, “once we—”

“I don’t need the details,” Sin interrupted brusquely. “And the shield tile replacement?”

“Not quite so easy, but nearly done. We’ll be space-worthy, but we should schedule a waystation stop to review the repairs.”

“I think Intreidis waystation owes us a free overhaul,” Sin growled. “Or I might just take your advice on that strafing from orbit.”

Honey hooted. “Somebody’s in a good mood.” There was a thoughtful pause. “Or not?”

“You don’t need the details,” Sin said. “Have Delaney and her profile ready to go and meet me at the cruiser. We’re making a trip back to town while the repairs are completed.”

A few minutes later, as he approached the hatch ramp, Delaney rushed him when she saw her friend limp in his arms.

“Zoe,” she cried. She jolted to a halt in front of him. “Is she…?”

“Fine,” Sin said. “Exhausted from the healing procedure.” And other things, but he wasn’t going to mention that. “When she awakens she’ll have a headache.” He hesitated. “And she won’t remember any of this.”

“Not remember?” Delaney slanted a glance at Honey and then back at him. “But…how could she forget something like this?”

Sin knew he would never forget a single nanosecond of their time together. “It’s better for her. She didn’t want to be part of this. And she never signed the IDA concealment agreements. If they find out that she knows about them, about us”—he nodded at himself and Honey—“things could get difficult for her.” He gazed at Delaney steadily. “You signed them. You know what I mean.”

Her lips tightened but she didn’t disagree. “How much will she forget?”

He let out a slow breath. “About one of your solar days.” That had been the most refocusing he could do with the med-scanner on board. It would have to be enough. But he knew he’d been gentler with her than the IDA rep would be.

He looked down at the small female curled in his arms. “She may remember moments of meeting me at the park yesterday morning. But that encounter didn’t go well so she probably won’t give it another thought.”

While that lost chance would burn in his memory forever.

Because of her, he’d found the sabotaged tile, identified his treacherous brother…and released four of his mating rings.

He didn’t want to think about the fifth.

The ride to Sunset Falls was mostly quiet with Ivan driving and Honey in the front passenger seat while Sin rode in back with Zoe slumped between him and Delaney.

“I’m sorry for all the drama,” Delaney told him quietly.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“If I hadn’t lost the profile…”

Then he wouldn’t have met Zoe. “The profile should’ve deactivated when it left your possession, even with you and Zoe sharing a last name and an address. It was just fate.” He trailed off.
Fated mates
. No, he couldn’t think about that either, not when Zoe had rejected anything lasting with him. He’d fought too hard to flee his family’s tradition to force her.

Even if his own body was trying to force him.

In front of the cottage, Delaney cautioned them to wait while she checked inside. While they waited for her all-clear, Honey slung his arm over the cruiser seat to peer back at Zoe. “I thought you were going to keep her.”

Like a prisoner or a pet. Or a bride.

“I thought I was too,” Sin admitted.

Honey sniffed in disapproval. “That’s what mercs do. Get things that people lose. Take things that people want.”

“That’s never been our way.” Ivan continued to stare out the front window where Delaney had gone. “We don’t take from the needy or hurt the innocent.”

Honey followed his gaze. “Oh, I don’t think she’s that innocent.”

Ivan snapped his goggle-covered gaze to the drakling. “Don’t look at her.”

“
I
wasn’t,” Honey snarled.

“Enough,” Sin told them. “Delaney is signaling.”

He hustled through the bright daylight as quickly as possible, not wanting to explain the unconscious female in his arms.

“Our roommate Tisha is out of town so we’re good for a couple days.” Delaney eyed him. “You know where her room is.”

He nodded curtly and headed upstairs. The last time he’d made this trek Zoe had been walking up the stairs ahead of him, her shy, delighted glance back making his blood run faster.

The bed was straightened but not made as if she’d planned to come back to it soon. He wished they had. He peeled off her outer layers of clothing, including the very furry sweater, and left her comfortably tucked between the covers. As he straightened, he looked down. He’d come seeking a bride to let him claim a solar system. Instead she’d claimed him at his most intimate depths. The
singilt
weighed at him, as if trying to collapse him into the bed beside her.

He smoothed her hair over the pillow and stepped back. It wasn’t until he turned that he realized Delaney had followed him and watched from the doorway.

“Maybe she wasn’t interested in signing up with the Intergalactic Dating Agency,” Delaney said. “But she might be interested in dating
you
.”

“I needed a bride,” he said. Unlike the rings piercing him, his tone was sharp. “That’s all.”

He brushed past her, ignoring the ache in his body as if he’d carried and dropped something far heavier than one small Earther female.

At the door of the cottage he turned back to Delaney and said politely, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

She glanced away from him and then away from the cruiser parked outside with Ivan and Honey which left only the big sky overhead. “I hope we both do.”

He left her there and climbed into the cruiser with his crewmates. The
Prayer
’s fighter pods were smaller than the cruiser, but even with the hole from his hand punched in the door, the space seemed chokingly tight. He growled low in his throat to dislodge the sensation. “Let’s find my brother. And strafe something from orbit.”

Zoe woke with a pounding headache. Ugh. What had she drank last night? Or maybe the real question was how much? From the light outside she couldn’t tell if it was morning or evening or cloudy, and she was tempted to just fall back asleep and wait for the headache to go away.

But a strange urgency twitched through her muscles and propelled her out of bed. She pushed back the curtain. Definitely early evening. Had she slept all day? She touched the side of her head.

She paused and raked her fingers harder through her hair. Where was the…? Oh, there. Her fingertips could barely find the line of raised tissue. Had she slept on it funny and flattened it? She should’ve done that months ago.

She quickly dressed for the mountain night and went downstairs.

Del was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in her hands, staring at nothing. Her tawny braids were fuzzed as if she’d been yanking on them.

“Hey,” Zoe said. Her voice crackled so she cleared her throat and tried again. “What’s up?”

Del startled, her eyes focusing. “You. Finally.” She rose and poured another cup of tea which she handed to Zoe. “How are you feeling?”

“I…” Zoe swallowed hard. The wafting scent of chamomile mint should’ve been soothing; instead, she had to resist the urge to pace. “You know I don’t complain about my recovery.”

Del guided her to the breakfast nook. “You never did. That’s why I wanted you out here with me, so I could keep an eye on you since I knew you wouldn’t say anything.” She smiled but her gaze was solemn.

“I think I’m having memory problems again,” Zoe blurted. “Did we go drinking last night?”

Del curled her lips inward. “You…fell. You don’t remember?”

Zoe shook her head, which didn’t make her head spin for which she was grateful.

“You bumped you head.”

Zoe started to touch her skull but stopped herself with effort. “I don’t remem—” She stopped herself from saying that too. She was repeating herself. “I was doing so good.”

Del clasped her hand. “You have. It’s nothing. Just a little bump. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if… If I’m forgetting things, what if I’m forgetting something important? What if I lost something?”

“You didn’t…” Del swallowed. “I’m sure everything will be all right.”

Zoe stared at her sister-in-law suspiciously. “Did something happen?” she demanded. “Did I say something, or do something?”

“No,” Del said hurriedly. “Everything’s—”

“Fine?” Zoe asked caustically.

“It will be,” Del said with more conviction than Zoe had heard from her since Will’s death. “You hungry?”

Feeling oddly out of phase, Zoe nodded. Together they cooked up a marinara. Or mostly Del cooked and Zoe alternately switched her attention between dinner and the fading daylight. She couldn’t focus even on their desultory conversation about joining Tisha at the cabin. For dessert, they had star cookies. As Zoe bit into the icing, she froze at the phantom taste flooding her tongue. Something sweet, but sharper, almost mineral, like the coldest spring water bubbling from the mountain rocks. She’d had a cookie for breakfast yesterday…

“Oh, did I tell you I went on a date yesterday morning.” She frowned. “No, not a date. I met him for coffee. No, wait. I was drinking coffee when I met him.” It seemed so fuzzy, but clear too, as if her mind’s eye was struggling to pull that moment into focus.

Del laughed, a little shrill. “You? On a date? Head injuries. What a trip.”

“Uh, sure.” Zoe eyed her in annoyance. “If by trip you mean trip and fall and crack your skull open and lose chunks of your life and never be the same again.”

Del dropped her gaze. “Yeah, I guess that is kind of what I meant.”

Zoe struggled to grasp the strange half-memory. In rehab, they’d told her to be patient with herself, to let the memories come back when they would. If they would. But for some reason, this one felt too important to let go and wait.

She frowned. “He took something from me. Or…I gave him something.”

Del choked out another little laugh, and Zoe shot her an irate glare. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Del stammered.

But Zoe was barely listening. There was something she’d forgotten, someone… The sensation of the memory slipping out of her grasp was so strong her hands spasmed.

Del watched with alarm. “Zoe, stop fighting it.”

Frustration overwhelmed her. “Fight what?” she demanded. “What is going on? You know something.”

“You didn’t want to know,” Del said plaintively.

Zoe shoved out of the breakfast nook and whirled to face her friend. “Tell me. Who was he?”

“I can’t,” Del said miserably. “You didn’t—”

The glass in the kitchen door window shattered, cutting her off. Del cried out in alarm, and Zoe spun on her heel to face the threat. The dry crackle of wood breaking followed.

This was how it always went. The chime of breaking glass, the splinter of wood. Next would come the brick.