Arak's Love: A World Beyond Book 2 (13 page)

Chapter 15

After their team successfully turned the Antare over, Arak slumped against the exterior wall of the warehouse one booted foot propped behind him. Waiting for the haz transport to pick them up instead of the shuttle they’d used to get here had him antsy. He wanted to get back to Enotia but all of them were covered in white flecks of
bliss
. Using their Jutak transport to go home in their condition would jeopardize their pilot and the interior of the shuttle would have to be sanitized. For that reason alone they had to continue to wear their face shields for protection against breathing in the deadly drug.

Adding to his anger, the oxygen alert in Arak’s face shield continued its annoying beep. He’d burned most of his allotted time with the fight. Twenty more minutes and things would be very uncomfortable. Arak tipped his head back and locked his jaw. The artificial light of Avida crested over the star filled sky to usher in the simulated ‘morning’. Another mission well done for the Jutaks. Torkel would be pleased.

“How are you holding up?” Jaron asked with a side glance from where he slouched on the wall to Arak’s left.

As long as he didn’t move, his body felt fine. To test the theory, Arak adjusted his stance, sending fire zipping along his right side. He refused to mention the pain in case Jaron decided they needed to delay their departure further. “I’m fine.”

Geile snorted. “The Antare dislocated his shoulder.”

Arak jerked his head up and snarled then immediately regretted the action when another blaze of pain licked along his injured shoulder.

Through the tinted mask, Jaron’s brows dipped in concern and he rose to his full height.

“Not a problem, Jaron,” Arak declared before the team lead could touch him. Putting truth to words, Arak rammed his side into the wall and stifled a pained cry as his shoulder snapped back into place. The oxygen alert increased its beeping. Panting, Arak met Geile’s gaze. “Fine, see?”

From his place standing further down the wall, Gregir chuckled.

“Ebo.” Jaron shook his head and patted his multiple pockets. Before Arak could issue a protest, his team leader jabbed a needle through the fabric of his pants.  

“I hate needles!” Arak sucked in a gasping breath. The pain meds worked efficiently. He leaned back carefully, not willing to debate Jaron’s actions. The shoulder only hurt a little now as opposed to the gnawing bite of earlier.

Arak wanted to return to Sylvie but the minute they loaded onto the haz transport, Jaron nixed the idea.

“We’re heading to Nata Ollo because of the potential bliss exposure.” Jaron dropped onto his seat beside Geile, directly across from Arak.

“We could get treated by Dr. Maku,” Arak protested.

“Our med center is not equipped to sanitize all of us. The risk to the Unit is too great.”

Everyone groaned, though they understood the reason. Nata Ollo was one of the top medical and chemical centers in this sector of space. It was the best place to be treated. As soon as their transport landed on Nata, Jaron herded everyone through a side door and straight into decontaminate units. Arak ripped the face shield off and gulped down fresh air. The others watched closely but he waved them off, chest heaving.

 Once he had himself together Arak followed the medical staff to another room. He spent an hour standing beneath undulating lights, ten minutes to destroy uniforms in bio-incinerators followed by a pounding hot shower in the cleansing unit with his teammates on either side of him.

Water beat on him in a steady rhythm long after Davar, Geile and Gregir left. At least the shower helped with his shoulder. Steam rose from the floor as the liquid circled down the drain. More water dripped from Arak’s soaked hair onto his nose. His cat paced, wanting to return to Enotia. Claim Sylvie. Take Sylvie. The demand pounded at his temples and he found himself growling in a continuous rumble. His claws emerged and gouged the tiles his palms rested on.

“Arak?” Jaron watched him from the arched doorway, a black towel wrapped around his lean waist.

With a muffled curse, Arak stepped out and dried off quickly. “I’m good.”

His team leader held his stare a moment longer. “The doctors want to check us over. Preliminary reports show no contamination but a scan will say for sure.”

 Arak heaved a sigh. He didn’t need a scan to tell him what he already knew. If any ounce of
bliss
had penetrated his clothing or mask, his cat would have gone wild and no one would have been able to stop him. Since Jaron wasn’t going to let the matter go, Arak dressed quickly in the light blue paper pants and shirt they’d all been issued and followed Jaron down a long tiled hallway, silent but for the sound of their paper shoes whispering along the floor. They entered the room together.

Geile, Davar and Gregir must have passed inspection and now wore spare uniforms provided by another Jutak team in the past no doubt. Seated on a narrow sheet covered bed, Arak rolled his eyes when the tech handling his shoulder confirmed it was already half-healed. Jaron used the one finger move Faye had taught them all during a soku fueled evening. Arak laughed at the memory.

The head doctor tapped keys on his tablet before speaking. “I believe your men are fine, Jaron but I recommend you all stay a little longer in isolation to be certain no one exhibits signs of inhaling
bliss
.”

Arak leaped from the bed, prepared to march for the nearest transport to Enotia. It took Jaron, Geile and Gregir to restrain him. Arak faced the doctor who’d taken several steps back.

“How long?”

With a watchful stare the doctor answered, “Three days.”

The driving desire to touch, hold and stroke the female on his mind took precedence over the rest his body needed. His friends let him go slowly. With jerky steps, Arak headed to the bunk he’d been assigned. The others sensing his mood kept their distance.

He tossed and turned each night, thoughts of Sylvie enflaming him until he took himself in hand for release when the burning heat of his arousal got the better of him. It wasn’t enough. Arak craved her and fisting himself was a poor substitute. If he commed her it would only increase his need.

On the morning of the fourth day, the doctors cleared them for the return trip to Enotia. Arak kept to himself during the ride, battling the continued stirrings of arousal. As soon as they arrived at the Jutak facility, he shoved his gear into his locker, careful to secure his extra weapons in the shelving unit. Wincing from his still tender shoulder, Arak shrugged into a clean uniform shirt and wondered if he could get in and out of the building before anyone questioned his rush.

Jaron left as soon as he finished dressing to file their mission status. Geile and Gregir sat on the bench seat across from him as they placed their belongings in the lockers, taking their time as they pulled on their boots.

“Later, Arak,” they called out.

He nodded and rose to his feet, slamming his locker harder than necessary. A rough hand grabbed Arak’s upper arm before he could make his escape. He tensed and came face to face with his unit leader. Arak heaved a sigh at the glower on Torkel’s face.

“I can explain, Torkel.”

“Talk fast.” Torkel braced his weight and folded his arms over his chest in a stance that intimidated many.

***

Arak banged on Sylvie’s door and waited, shoulders hunched. Torkel had taken his explanation better than expected and let him go with a warning. Anger and frustration coiled in Arak’s gut as he pounded again. Where was she this time of night? Didn’t she understand his desire to see her as soon as he returned? Sylvie hadn’t answered her comm earlier and now she wasn’t answering her door. Sylvie always answered for him.

“She’s not home, officer.”

Arak turned, coming face to face with Joni who strolled down the hall with a smirk on her mouth. He’d identified her scent the moment she opened her door. When Joni reached him, she leaned on the wall opposite Sylvie’s apartment and studied Arak. The intense scrutiny had his nape prickling.

“Where is she?” His voice rasped in demand but Arak was too far gone to control his impatience.

Joni sucked her tongue between her teeth as if considering how to answer and smoothed a hand down the black dress she wore. A dress that stopped mid-thigh. The black heeled shoes complimented the outfit and added another five inches to her height so that she looked him in the eye.

“Sylvie’s on a date.”

Snick.

They both glanced down at the sharp curve of claws now protruding from his fingertips. Arak remembered Sylvie using the word
date
when he’d taken her out to the market place. Faye had informed him of the deeper meaning Earthlings used. It meant the man or woman spent time together to pursue one another.

His growl rumbled forth. “A date?”

“Yep.” Joni straightened, dropping the playful demeanor. “She left about twenty minutes ago. Santagos, I believe.”

Arak knew the place. It had earned its place as one of the most premiere spots to dine due to the creative food on the menu surpassing that of nearby restaurants. Getting in without a reservation wouldn’t be a problem. Santagos was run by a third generation Enotian Arak knew very well. His lips twisted in a smile as he forced back his annoyance. “Thank you.”

Joni’s amber eyes darkened, at last picking up on the hints of danger emanating from him. “What are you planning?”

Arak’s stride doubled as urgency pushed him. He lifted his hand in the air to wave, not bothering to turn around. “I’m going to find Sylvie.”

***

Arak held the door open for a pretty blonde Enotian as she exited Santagos. She smiled at Arak, slowing her pace to eye him from head to toe as she licked her lips but he was through the door like a shot, not giving her a second glance. The late hour meant the restaurant was completely full but no one lingered in the lobby. The owner knew his seating and customer base to a letter so no one ever spent time waiting if they had a reservation and if you didn’t, you were sent on your way. Most of the patrons used to this odd policy didn’t complain. It was understood that if they wanted to dine they booked a seating.

“Arak, we weren’t aware you planned to dine with us tonight.”

The sharply dressed blonde came from behind the glass counter at the center of the lobby and attempted to hug him. Adrenaline pumped off him in waves. His cat snarled and Arak had enough control to keep from clawing her hand off as he shifted away from her touch. His blood burned hot and need drove him. The need to find Sylvie and her
date
.     

Why was she with another man? Who was he and how did Sylvie meet him?

“Arak, are you here to see—”

“No,” he cut her off and tried for a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I’m here to see a friend.”

Her pleasant demeanor slipped at his tone but Arya exhibited the professional courtesy she was known for during her years with Santagos. She nodded, face resuming mild interest and moved back to the counter. “Enjoy your dinner. We love seeing you.”

Arak swallowed his impatience. They were good friends who’d schooled together and she didn’t deserve the short end of his tempter. He gentled his tone. “Thanks, Arya.”

He quickened his step, ignoring the odd glances tossed his way. Patrons sat in an elegant dining room beneath dim lighting cast by the overhead lights. The custom glass and metal fixtures created flashes of rainbows on the special reflective floor designed by the owner. The tinkling of silver and glassware became a minor irritant to his senses.

Arak hadn’t taken the time to eat and regretted it with so much food on display. The rich aroma of several dishes brimmed on the air. He scanned the crowd looking for one face in particular. He recognized a few of the diners but his steps didn’t slow for him to greet or make small talk. Something Arak would hear about later. Another sweep of the room showed couples laughing as they nestled together, families in groups huddled around larger tables as they celebrated some momentous occasion.

Sylvie’s blonde hair blended in on a planet predisposed to light haired, blue eyed citizens but one thing about her would never blend. Her scent. Arak inhaled deeply, searching for the familiar twang. The sweet essence only Sylvie carried. It hit him like a blow to the mid-section. His head swiveled to the side and eyes narrowed on an intimate table set for two in a small alcove off to his right. Sylvie leaned forward, smiling at her dining partner.

Possession cascaded through him although the tension vibrating through his pores eased. Her mouth curved as she spoke to her companion then laughed. Each note of the delicious sound reached his ears easily. Arak was drawn in her direction. Drawn to Sylvie and reached her table without remembering moving.

Sylvie’s head tipped up. Surprise then pleasure flittered across her features. “Arak!”

His relief at her reaction waned as he remembered Joni’s words. “Where is he?”

Her mouth formed an O. “What?”

Arak breathed out then in, fingers curled into a fist to prevent his claws from emerging. “Joni said you were on a date.”

The woman seated across from Sylvie snickered. “Oh my. Maybe, I should go.”