Lord of Capra (4 page)

Drake lowered his
head to meet her lips. He kissed her tenderly, not wanting to cause any pain.

“I’m fine,” she
urged.

“Well, I’m the one
who ended up on the floor,” he pointedly reminded.

After a few seconds
of awkward silence, Evana responded. “I must tell you everything.”

Chapter Five

Resigned to the
task before her, she took his hand and led him back to the bedroom. Along the
way she picked up her gown and slipped it on. Drake followed her lead and stepped
into his sweats without comment. Before speaking, Evana glanced at him and
found him staring toward his bed. She followed his gaze and noticed the mangled
headboard that had caught his attention.

The lowest bar was
twisted, crushed in two places and pulled away from the wall. The top rungs of
the headboard along with the side supports were deformed due to damage to the
lower bar and they were now tilted inward.

“Frame looks like
it’s holding,” Drake commented matter-of-factly. He gestured toward the bed and
stared back at her, raising his brows.

“I’ll explain,” she
implored and motioned for him to follow. Perhaps it’d be best to sit on his
couch where she could tell him everything and keep her distance from him at the
same time. It’d be safer, especially for him.

Evana took a seat
on one end of the couch while Drake took the other. She nervously cleared her
throat while gathering her thoughts. “I’m sure you have questions…”

“You think?” Drake
blurted.

“Let me explain
some things first. Please, just listen to what I have to tell you before
jumping to any wrong conclusions or making wild accusations.”

Drake nodded.

“Many years ago,”
she stated, picking her words with care while keeping her eyes downcast, “I was
dying. A plague came to my village. So many died even before I became sick. It
was a terrible, slow, painful death. I was the last member of our household to
fall ill. As I lay suffering, an entity came to me.” She gave him a quick
glance to see his reaction so far. He looked puzzled, but he seemed willing to
listen.

“An entity?” he
prodded and waited for her to continue.

Evana shrugged. “I
thought it was the goddess. That maybe my suffering was over and that I’d died,
but I was wrong. This entity had come to give me a choice.” Evana paused a few
seconds to listen to Nemesis speak silently to her, as if by rote.

There is always a
choice.

Drake remained
silent while Evana pressed on. “I could choose to live as a companion to this
entity. Or I could choose to die, right at that moment, with no further pain or
suffering.”

“I assume you chose
life?” Drake’s voice held no hint regarding his impression of her story.

“Yes.” Evana
studied him. His expression was blank, giving her no clue to what he thought. “I’m
the way I am because of this,” she searched for a word he might better
understand, “relationship.”

Drake stared at
her. She caught a flicker of disbelief cross his face before he sighed. “And
this is why you’re so strong? So fast?”

“Yes, and it’s the
reason you’re walking and all your wounds have been healed.”

“And I thought it
was the blood you gave me last night.”

Evana caught her
breath. His expression remained blank. She couldn’t tell if he were angry or
disgusted by what she’d done.

“It was your blood,
wasn’t it?” Drake pressed on.

“Yes!” she answered
without hesitation. “Yes, Drake, it was my blood that healed you.” Before he
could question her further, she blurted, “And it’s my blood you took again
today! That wasn’t supposed to happen…” Evana stammered on. “I-I want you to be
free to make your choice with a clear mind.” Luring him with blood loyalty was the
last thing she ever wanted.

“My choice? What
now? I can choose to die or what, Evana?” Drake opened his arms, palms upward,
while shaking his head in confusion, looking to her to provide answers.

“No!” Evana
implored and was by his side in an instant. She took his hands in hers and
tenderly held them. “No,” she repeated, her tone calmer. “You’re healed. And
you’re free to choose to live out your natural life here on Earth however you
please.” She guessed it was the “Earth” reference that caused him to suddenly
tighten his own grasp around her hands and stare at her in total disbelief.
Undaunted, she pressed on. “Or you can choose to leave with me.”

“Leave? With you?”
Drake repeated her last words while he stared at her in obvious confusion.

Her desire for him
made an untimely comeback, and she attempted to back away. His hands tightened
even harder, stronger than she expected. She allowed him to restrain her and searched
his eyes for any hint of predatory signs that might indicate he’d ingested too
much of her blood already. Not seeing any, she gripped him harder, testing his
strength. She immediately saw in his expression he’d guessed her intentions. He
tried to pull her closer in a game of tug-of-war while his grasp on her
increased.

Yes, he was much
stronger now. So much so she needed to use more power. Not wanting him to see
her eyes change as she called on her greater strength to break his hold, she
closed them and easily broke away.

“What just
happened?”

“If you continue to
drink my blood, you’ll become much stronger.”

“What else?”

Evana glanced at
him, contemplating her next answer. Either he was humoring her or he was very
intuitive.

“Evana, you need to
tell me everything.” Drake sighed and shook his head. “This is crazy!” As she
tried to speak, he cut her off with a wave of his hand. “No. Listen. I’m not
saying I don’t believe you. If it wasn’t for everything that’s happened to me
in the past few hours, I’d be calling Bellview and having you locked up.”

Evana was
astonished to see him laugh. She smiled tentatively. “I don’t know Bellview,
but I’m sure I could stop him,” she told him earnestly.

Drake’s laughter
increased. Evana sat quietly, waiting for him to calm his mirth.

I have studied some
of the psychological literature of these humans, and there is a belief that
laughter is beneficial to good mental health. Do you think this is a valid
insight, pilot?
Nemesis’
question insinuated itself in her mind.

I certainly hope
so,
Evana thought back. Nemesis wasn’t the only one worried about Drake’s mental
health.

*

Drake rested his
head against the back of the couch while taking a few deep breaths. He stared
at the ceiling, trying to come to grips with all she’d told him. Recovered now
from his laughter, he turned his attention back to her. She studied him,
looking at him searchingly. There was worry written all over her lovely face,
worry for him.

Contrite, he gave
her a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“Would you like to
ask more questions?”

He sat upright and nodded.
“Your blood healed me.” At her nod, he continued, “What’s happening to me now?

“You’re a little
stronger. Also, if you’re wounded, you’ll heal in a matter of seconds.

Well, he couldn’t
deny her blood had healed him and given him more strength. He felt the
additional power coursing through him even now. The fast healing part he’d have
to test.

However, the idea
of drinking her blood, or anyone’s, for that matter, still gave him the creeps.
He couldn’t ignore a new and very different sensation growing inside him. It
was nothing like the strong emotions she’d already stirred in him. He felt an
odd compulsion to commit himself to her, body and soul.

“Why are you
worried about me drinking your blood?”

“It’ll also slow
your aging, but it’ll become addictive if you reach that stage.”

“Addictive? Any
other downside?” As if that wasn’t enough.

“Actually, it’ll
completely stop you from aging. A downside, as you say, depending on how you
feel about immortality.”

Drake felt as
though he’d taken a hit to his stomach. The very idea was ludicrous. However,
he sensed she’d told him the truth. Every single thing she’d said felt right.
Perhaps it was the blood working on his mind or his attraction to her that made
him want to believe her. There was something else he remembered her saying. It
was about him having a choice of staying or leaving with her.

“Evana, what did
you mean about me having a choice to leave?”

For a moment, he
thought she might reach out to touch him before answering, but he was
disappointed. She pulled slightly away, looking as though she wished he hadn’t
asked.

“I won’t be able to
stay here too much longer. My life is,” she pointed upward, “out there.”

Drake glanced up. “Space?”

“Yes.”

As he turned away,
he saw the disappointment in her expression. His first impulse was to jump up
and rage at her. Tell her everything she’d told him was nonsense. How he
thought she was crazy, and that he was done with entertaining her lies. He just
couldn’t.
Damn her.

How could he
believe such drivel? His common sense set off warning alarms while other parts
of his thinking processes calmly assimilated the information and told him everything
was completely logical. And he swore every molecule in his body went along with
her tale. He was drawn to her, felt her next to him, waiting for him.

All he wanted to do
was take her into his arms, swear to her he believed every word she said and make
love to her. Was it her blood making him feel that way?

Wearily, Drake
raked his hands through his tousled hair before turning toward her again
.
God. She’s so beautiful
. He needed time. He glanced around his living room
and noticed the fading light coming through the curtains. It was late, and he
realized he was hungry. Not surprising. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He
stood and offered her his hand. She seemed confused.

“I can’t think
anymore, and I’m starving. Would you like to go somewhere to eat?”

She took his hand
and stood. Even though she looked as if she wasn’t sure about his meaning, she
said, “Yes.”

Drake looked her up
and down, and said, “You need to change into something.” He shrugged, not sure
if he’d just insulted her. Exactly how do you tell a woman like Evana she
should put on some clothes?

He was relieved
when she suggested, “I’ll change into something more appropriate while you
dress.” Before he could ask how she planned to accomplish that, she shot him a
furtive look and smiled. “You get ready. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Reluctant to leave,
he shuffled down the hallway. Barely restraining his desire to rush back and
grab her, he paused at the bathroom doorway for one more look at her before
going inside. She watched him with a look of admiration. He prayed he wasn’t
about to wake up and realize everything that had happened so far was just a
cruel dream.

Chapter
Six

Fresh from his
shower, Drake searched through his bedroom closet for a clean pair of jeans. He
hadn’t had much time before leaving on his last, and now final, deployment to
wash his civilian clothes. He chose the first faded pair he came to and pulled
them on. Satisfied with the fit and feel, he tossed a long-sleeved black
t-shirt over his still damp hair, pulled his arms through the sleeves and
brought it down to cover his torso. He studied the imprint on the front,
Surrender
the Booty
printed below a skull and crossbones. He grimaced. It’d have to
do.

He’d had more than
one woman complain about his particular taste in clothing. Josh’s teenage
sister, JoAnna, had even labeled it “punk’d out redneck grunge.” Drake didn’t
agree. He liked to think of it as laid back “cowboy biker” style. Josh’s sister
was the “every day is Halloween Goth queen.” What the hell did she know?

 With a couple mismatched
socks now covering his feet, he pulled on a pair of black leather boots and
headed back to the bath to finish getting ready. He made a quick detour to
check his living room to see if his guest had arrived. Not yet, but he discovered
several of his magazines were now scattered on top the coffee table. Some were
left open.

Puzzled, he walked
to the bath, grabbed a comb and tried to tame his shaggy head of hair. It’d
grown out during his months of recuperation and now fell in thick blond layers
halfway down his neck. Just when he’d given up there was a knock at his front
door.

He grasped the
handle as the second one sounded. Amazed he’d reached the door so quickly, he
swung it open and found Evana poised to hit the door once again. He was even
more amazed to discover she wasn’t dressed like any number of
Playboy’s
of
the Month candidates she might have copied from his collection. Actually, he
was relieved.

At first glance,
she looked very “girl next door,” wearing a pale pink cashmere sweater with a
bit of a low neck tease, tight-fitting jeans that tapered down to fit snug at
her ankles and red… She strolled into the apartment…stilettos. He couldn’t help
but smile and shake his head. This was going to be an interesting evening.

She turned
gracefully and posed. “Is this appropriate?”

“That looks just
great,” Drake told her with absolute honesty. “It’s gonna be a little chilly. Did
you bring a jacket?” After all, it was late fall.

“Oh, well, yes. I
left it…on the railing…by the door.”

Her answer seemed a
little directive. He stifled his curiosity and grabbed a plain black leather
jacket from the coat closet beside the door.

He slipped into it,
then indicated the open doorway. “After you?”

*

Evana hesitated for
a moment before she walked out the door and picked up a similar, though much
smaller, black leather jacket from the rail. She put it on and waited for him
while he locked the door. Finished, Drake grabbed her hand and pulled her to
walk beside him down a concrete path.

Without drawing on
her power, she kept up with him, just barely. Apparently, the human males of
his time liked to hobble their females with ridiculous footwear. She wondered
about the reason for such a practice in silence as the heels of her stilettos
clip-clopped noisily against the surface.

He led her to what
looked like an automobile storage area and stopped in front of a closed door.
Drake inserted a key into the bottom of a locking device, she surmised, which
after a quick twist, sprang open. He raised it, walked inside and stood next to
a vehicle with only two wheels. She watched as he straddled it, held on to what
looked like handles and kicked a support free so the contraption rolled freely,
allowing him to back it out of the storage space.

Drake gave her a
sideways glance. “Are you ready?”

“What’s that?”

“This?” He laughed.
“It’s a Harley.” He stated the name as if anyone in their right mind should
know.

“A what?” Evana asked,
still unsure about Harley.

“It’s a
Harley-Davidson, Night Rod Special,” Drake told her, being very specific. “Come
on, Evana,” he urged, incredulously. “A motorcycle?”

“Oh!” Evana
blurted. “Yes, a motorcycle. Of course. You ride a motorcycle,” she muttered,
her voice trailing off.

“Come on.” He
motioned for her to sit behind him. “Climb on. Let’s go.”

He kick started the
engine, and it came to life with a deafening roar. At least it sounded that way
to Evana. She climbed on behind him and placed her spiked-heeled shoes where he
indicated. After he placed her arms around his waist, she happily held on tight
as he released the brake, cranked the throttle and sped off into the night.

Evana snuggled
close, using his back as a shield against the wind whipping around them.
Enjoying the ride, she called to Nemesis within her mind. It was odd. The ghost
ship hadn’t spoken with her for a while. Surely Nem would’ve had something to
say about her motorcycle experience. As a matter of fact, it was unusual for
Nem not to help her, explain what a motorcycle was so she wouldn’t appear so
ill-informed. Only then did she realize Nemesis had seemed distracted earlier.

Evana had
visualized the clothes she’d wanted to wear that evening, and Nem had brought
them forth without any objections. Yes, something was definitely wrong. They
always quibbled over the appropriate attire for first contacts with inhabitants
of planets that were deemed openly approachable. As Earth was not one, Evana
grew even more concerned about her ship.

Nemesis.
Evana practically
shouted out loud now.

Yes, pilot. I am
here,”
Nemesis
responded.
I have been occupied searching this planet’s historical records.

Have you found
anything wrong?

Yes. There has been
contamination since my last visit.

Evana knew that “last
visit” meant when Nemesis had chosen her.
Nem, have you found out how long
ago it happened?

So far, I have
tracked references back to the time they refer to as the Dark Ages. More
descriptive references appear during their Victorian era, and many more
appearing up to present day.

We should’ve come
back sooner, Nem.
Evana felt guilty for keeping the ghost ship from planet Earth for so long.

It is not your
fault, pilot. We are here now.

Are our enemies
here also?

I detected no
intruder within this solar system when we arrived. However, I sense three to
perhaps four creatures. The abomination accompanying them has an unusually
strong presence. We must prepare to destroy them soon. Have you secured this
male for your mate?

 
Not yet,
Evana admitted.

She cringed
inwardly. Nemesis was anxious to begin searching, and Drake knew next to
nothing. And worse, Evana felt the mark of her blood drawing him to her. It was
still weak. She was grateful for that fact. More than anything, she wanted him
to leave with her of his own free will. Not because her blood had seduced him,
but because he wanted to be with her.

I will continue
monitoring. Evana, if the creations discover your male…
Nemesis started to
warn.

I know, he’ll be
vulnerable,
Evana
thought back.
And I’ll destroy them before anything happens to him,
she
vowed and unconsciously tightened her arms around Drake.

“Ow!” he yelped
into the wind. She loosened her hold a fraction.

Pilot, you need
only call and I will take him,
Nemesis offered.

Evana sent her ship
a silent thank you.