LOGAN (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 5) (41 page)

"The good news," Geoffrey said, "is that we're almost ready for them. Weapons development and ship conversion is nearly completed. The barrier is ready for final testing, the space traffic control tower is operational and strategies have been worked out to combat a wide range of eventualities."

Logan wasn't as confident. "There's still one big piece missing. We have yet to start training the additional pilots needed to patrol the barrier."

Parisia and Iris exchanged another one of their looks before Parisia responded. "We thought we had more time and didn't need to force the recruitment so soon."

"Have you found anyone willing to train?" asked Tarla.

Parisia's cheeks flushed a little as she admitted, "No, not yet."

"Then there is only one solution, as distasteful as it seems to you," Tarla declared. "After discounting those involved in the attempted takeover, there are still eighty-four able-bodied men with wartime experience inside the commune. They could be trained in a matter of weeks, and with them, you wouldn't be taking the chance they might panic when the time came to act, the way some of your women might."

Brianne spoke up for the first time since the women had sat down. "I agree with Tarla," she told her mother. "We have no other realistic choice. Parliament will endorse anything you suggest right now. But to keep the situation under control, perhaps the additional men could be housed in the flight center outside of the city where they would be training."

Parisia murmured a few words to Iris, who then gave a reluctant nod and asked, "Tarla, do you think those men would agree to remain isolated and stay away from the women in the city if we freed them?"

"The only men who could not be trusted to cooperate are the ones in your sanatorium right now. I believe the rest of them will agree to anything that would save their lives and eventually get them back home. Logan? Geoffrey? What do you think?"

"We definitely need them," Geoffrey said.

Logan added, "If anyone causes a problem after he's released, he'll immediately be sent back to the farm. That should be threat enough to keep them in line."

As Brianne had pointed out, they had no other choice. Since time had suddenly become of great importance, Parisia had Brianne escort their twenty guests to the transfer room and into the commune immediately.

They did not have long to wait before all the men began gathering in the big house for lunch. Expecting something close to a surprise homecoming celebration, it was bewildering when their presence was barely noticed... until Tarla caught sight of Gianni and several other of their men across the room, getting themselves water directly from the hand pump. "Logan, look over there, at Gianni."

"Oh, no," he groaned as soon as he spotted the man. "That's why so few men broke out with Wilkes. They've been drinking the water."

"What are we going to do now?"

"Exactly what we came to do—take them back with us."

Tarla wrinkled her forehead. "But if they've been consuming the antidote for any length of time, their aggressive natures have been neutralized and their reflexes are probably shot."

Logan leaned closer and murmured, "The effect of the drug is reversible, even after years of taking it." He waited to see if she could figure out how he knew that.

Realization brightened her eyes. "Jason?"

"Right," he answered with some pride. "He was given regular doses for more than ten years, but in only two months without it—"

"He's starting to look and behave more like a healthy human male," Tarla said, finishing his sentence. "So,
that's
what you've been up to with him! I should have guessed. Is that why you didn't want to let me into your head?"

He shrugged. "I may have one or two other secrets."

She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "You're a good man, Logan McKay. Of course, Parisia would probably exile you if she found out."

"True, but so far, Jason's been careful to behave the way she'd expect him to when he's around her. I'm only surprised that she hasn't noticed any change in his appearance."

Tarla shrugged. "Maybe she has and doesn't disapprove as strongly as she's supposed to."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Hmmm. Let's just deal with one problem at a time."

Much to everyone's relief, the men who had been left behind on the farm had not become total puppet people. Aware of the drug, most of them had limited the amount of water drunk each day. They were clearheaded enough to understand that they were being freed, while sufficiently relaxed to follow any orders they were given.

With Brianne's help, the slightly tranquilized men were efficiently herded through the transfer room and onto shuttles that took them straight to the flight center. It was decided that someone had to stay and babysit the newcomers until their minds cleared enough for them to comprehend what was going on. Geoffrey, Robin, T.J., and Lee volunteered to take the first shift, while Brianne made arrangements for beds, food and other necessary supplies to be delivered. Everyone else was finally free to go home and catch up on their sleep.

* * *

In spite of all the things they could have discussed on the way back to their residence, Tarla and Logan made the trip in silence. She assumed exhaustion had him too tired to talk. For her, it was a matter of having too many things to say. Her assumption about his state of fatigue was proven wrong the moment they were inside their apartment.

She was about to ask if he'd like something to eat or drink when he abruptly pulled her against him and his mouth stole the words right out of hers. She didn't need to be privy to his thoughts to know that this kiss told of long nights of unsatisfied need for her.

Unlike the gentle, beautiful way he usually made love to her, what he was doing to her now was closer to the primitive assaults of their pre-joining encounters. He was completely out of control as his tongue stabbed at hers and his fingers tore at the closures on her caftan.

And she couldn't have loved it more.

She hadn't even known how desperate she had been to feel his hands on her breasts until they were there, molding her flesh and feeding the runaway fire his kisses had ignited. He was behaving like an uncivilized animal, and it was exactly what she needed to release her pent-up frustration.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to force him to hold still for a return attack on his mouth. There would be time for leisurely lovemaking later. With no further preliminaries, she yanked open his pants and pushed them over his hips while his hands were just as hurriedly lifting her caftan and underslip and disposing of her panties.

She gasped once as his body roughly pinned hers up against the wall and made her feel the raw power of his desire. But she brought him inside and used him with a savagery that belied her smaller size.

She lowered the mental block and hungrily seized everything he had to give her.

He welcomed the blending of their minds and devoured all she had to give him.

And the explosive release of their combined physical and emotional selves left them trembling in its wake.

Wordlessly, Logan carried her to the bathroom where they shared a shower that was much more arousing than cleansing. When they finally made it to the bed, they were again frantic to join their bodies in an attempt to make up for lost time. Their second frenzied coupling finally allowed them to fall asleep in each other's arms.

Tarla awoke with the realization that she hadn't raised the mental block before they fell asleep. She knew he would understand but she'd made him a promise to allow him as much privacy as possible, so she quickly rebuilt the shield between them.

Careful not to wake him, she quietly got out of bed and put on the satiny blue underslip she'd discarded so hastily a few hours before. Stepping out on the balcony for some fresh air, she took in what had become one of her favorite views—the city at night. Somehow it was both visually stimulating and emotionally calming. It exuded the sense of security she'd taken for granted in Innerworld and never felt on Outerworld.

From what they'd heard today however, this was no longer a safe haven. Unless she and her people successfully performed the tasks requested of them, the entire population of Heart could be decimated at any moment.

As terrifying as that possibility was, that wasn't what had awakened her. It was Logan's memories, the ones she had locked away months ago. They had all been freed while she slept with the block removed. But she didn't want to know all those things because of the joining. She wanted him to tell her about his life. She needed him to
want
to share his story with her... even if she knew all of it already.

She sensed a movement behind her a moment before Logan wrapped his arms around her and kissed her bare shoulder. Leaning back against his solid chest, she sighed with the contentment she always felt when he held her like this.

"I reached for you and you weren't there," he whispered into her ear.

She folded her arms over his. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep."

"Worried?"

"Yes." She took a deep breath and asked the question that had been on her mind for days. "Assuming we've done a good job and we will all survive whatever is about to happen here, do you want to go back to Earth?" She felt his heartbeat quicken as she waited for his answer.

"I'm not sure. It's not like I have a lot of choices. I go back and end up serving a life sentence at Leavenworth. I stay here, and I could be turned into a house pet for somebody like Nadia."

"We could appeal the conviction."

Logan snorted. "Not much chance of that. For every crime I was accused of, there were at least two witnesses who swore I was guilty, and half of them were officers. An appeal would be a waste of time."

"But you're innocent," Tarla countered.

"I know
you
know that," he murmured and kissed the top of her head. "But the
way
you know it isn't exactly admissible in court... at least not in... Outerworld."

"Well then, we could live in Innerworld or relocate to Norona. As my mate, you are welcome wherever I am."

"Good to know I have so many choices," he said with a hint of bitterness.

She turned in his arms. "Are you going to start sulking again?"

He chuckled and kissed her nose. "I don't sulk. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that I'm no longer trapped in a world specially designed to torture me."

"I'll forgive you if you tell me all about your life before we ended up here."

He gave her a curious look and turned her around in his arms again. "You know all there was."

"Humor me. For just a little while, pretend our minds aren't open books.
Tell
me about your life."

"Geez," Logan whispered and hugged her tightly. "You are a pushy little thing." With a bit more prodding, Logan related the bleakness of his childhood and his inability to walk away from an underdog in need of help... and his belief that no woman as incredible as her would ever want to be his wife.

She turned around and placed her hands on the sides of his face. "Close your eyes and take a deep slow breath." As he exhaled she drew his head down for a tender kiss. "There. I just put a big pink bubble around all those awful memories. You don't ever have to relive them. Now tell me about the men who beat you into confessing."

The horror of the days that led up to the trumped-up court martial came flooding back and it took him a minute to comply. "As usual, everything would have been just fine if I'd minded my own business, but I was never very good at that. Just about everyone in the company knew about the drug smuggling ring and suspected there was some spying going on too. It didn't take much for me to find out that my captain and a number of others in our unit were involved, but I needed some solid evidence before I could turn them in.

"One day I saw the captain taking a young Chinese boy into his tent and thought if I got close enough, I might hear something important. Instead, I wound up stopping him from raping the kid at knife point."

Tarla's sharp intake of breath caused him to pause before going on. "I didn't kill him. When the boy ran out, the guy turned the knife on me. We fought. He lost. But he was still very much alive when I went for help. Somebody—I never figured out who—cut his throat before I got back."

"Could it have been the boy?" Tarla asked.

He shrugged. "Maybe, or one of the man's partners who decided to take advantage of an opportunity to be rid of him. I might have been able to save myself from being brought up on a murder charge, if I hadn't opened my mouth about my suspicions to the wrong major. I was locked up so tight after that, it was a week before I found out all the charges being brought against me. Apparently, the whole network was about to be exposed and they needed a scapegoat, fast. I had conveniently offered myself up to them and they didn't waste a second accepting."

"But I heard you pled guilty on all charges. Why didn't you defend yourself?"

He let out a dry laugh. "That's where the scene you saw comes in. I tried to deny everything. And got beaten nearly to death for it. I was informed in no uncertain terms that I could plead guilty and accept a prison sentence with a remote chance of parole someday... or die right there, branded a traitor."