Quest For Earth (12 page)

Sherise could see nothing. No outline. No shadowy forms. Amazing how he kept his footing as he hastened across what sounded like a tiled floor.

‘You will need to walk now.'

As if she insisted he carry her!

‘Hold tight to my belt. Do not let go. These steps are old and treacherous.' He guided her hand to his hips and hooked her fingers over the leather.

She heard the rusty whine of a door opening. Air as frigid as outer space brushed over her face. She sniffed; dampness, stale urine and a dusty stink that scratched at the back of her nose. She forced back a sneeze and hesitated, ignoring his impatient hiss. Wind whirled through the building. From outside erupted an ear shattering noise, like the high-pitched scream of a star voyager's power source winding up to explode.

Sherise gripped his belt so tight her fingers cramped with pain. After taking a deep breath she followed the stranger down into unknown depths.

***

Maaka's prize followed scant inches from his back as he led the way down the narrow steps into the basement. He remembered the legend of the prophesy and scowled. Nay, she was more than his prize. This woman was his. He'd known that the moment he'd first seen her in the Fortress.

Some of his race, the Lycaneans, lived and died without ever finding their fated half. But he had known as soon as he inhaled her scent; the way it had reached down deep within him … she was his.

He had traced her essence on the breeze, recognising her immediately, until he came upon her pacing around the flying craft. The sight of her graceful stride and lush feminine body draped in a soft cloth that moulded to her curves had caused his body to howl for release. When she had raced off, following the flight of the tikka, he had been surprised at the depth of dread he experienced at her hasty actions. He had long since caught the scent of the Half-dead and knew they were trickling out of their holes. The notion that his mate could be taken from him had released the beast within. He had called in his men and were-dogs and sent them to intercept his enemy.

At his next sight of her, his resolve forged into implacable determination.

A worthy mate.

He doubted he would ever forget the way she had stood her ground when faced with an attack from a tikka looking for blood. Her hair of glistening blue-black tumbling down her straight back, her eyes and hands steady as she aimed her weapon.

Her steadfast stance, even though he smelt her fear, had caused him to feel such pride he could not help but relish the image of the valiant sons she would bear him.

Something which he resolved would occur soon.

At the bottom of the stairs, Maaka paused and took a moment to scan the yawning space of the basement. The warmth from her body so close behind flowed over him, like the beams of the morning sun of summer. With savage satisfaction he acknowledged the insistent greed of an arousal that made him glad for the shrouding darkness. It also made walking awkward.

He gave a wry grimace. In an attempt to cool the raging call of his primitive side to stake his claim over his life mate, he reiterated the myriad dangers which could yet threaten them before he had her safe in his lair. It failed to cool the urgency racing through his blood. He reached behind to grasp her small hand in his and led her across the uneven concrete floor, kicking empty tins from his path.

‘There is a ledge here where we will be dry should the room flood from the storm.' Maaka closed his hands about her waist and lifted her. He hoisted himself up after her and slung his arm about her shoulders.

She immediately tried to pull out of his embrace.

‘Best to stay close. I would not want to lose you in the darkness. If the storm frightens the rodents out from the drains you will be glad of my protection.'

She shuddered but stopped struggling. She leaned to the right in an attempt to avoid contact, her body as stiff as an iron bar.

He grinned, aware she could not see his smug amusement.

Outside, the noise of falling masonry, tiles and bricks added to the fury of the wind as it lashed the city. A wall crashed to the ground and the roof above them vibrated from the impact. Dust drifted down.

The woman jumped with surprise and grabbed his thigh, her nails digging into his flesh.

Maaka hauled her closer, sliding his hand along the length of her arm, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. The way her body trembled in response pleased him, glad that this time she did not argue. Her scent was rich in his nostrils. It made him think of sunshine, flowers and tumbling her beneath him in his nest of furs. Blood rushed to his swollen balls. He winced and carefully rearranged the leather pouch covering his engorged manhood.

Keep your mind on more serious matters or we'll both end up as fodder.

He cleared his throat, reluctantly shelving his fantasies.

‘What are you called?'

‘Sherise.' Her tones slid like droplets of morning dew over his senses. His need roared once more into life. ‘Sherise El Rajan.'

Fear and wariness lingered beneath her composure. He drifted his hand, ever so slowly, up and down her arm. When he made contact with the metal band about her lower arm, he fingered it through the cloth with interest. He had not missed the amount of data such a small item had revealed when she'd appeared to be scanning her surroundings earlier.

Another weapon to use against our enemies
.
With luck there will be many more to aid my people.

‘Sherise.' He rolled her name around his tongue, thinking the feminine sound fit her perfectly. ‘Where are you from, my sweet Sherise?'

Suddenly, she drew her knees up and curled her arms about her legs, burying her face in her thighs. ‘A planet called Darkos, a long, long way from here.'

The misery in her now gruff voice made him frown and shuffle closer. He lifted a strand of silken hair from beside her face and wound it in between his fingers, enjoying the softness. Maaka peered through the semi-darkness and saw the glimmer of tear tracks on her cheeks.

‘Humph.' His gut shifted uncomfortably at this evidence of her unhappiness.
Best to divert her attention onto more pleasant matters
. ‘I am Maaka, leader of the Lycanean clan. You will soon forget this Darkos and become one with us. I will keep you busy bearing my sons.'

‘What!' Her voice echoed loudly through the basement.

‘Shush! Do not make such noise.' Maaka scowled towards the far corner where the deepest shadows lay.
Was that a glint of a rodent's eyes?

Beside him, his woman muttered under her breath and pounded her upper legs with her clenched hands. He turned back, fingered the smooth strands of her hair and considered her.
Was she chanting?

‘What is this, that you do?'

‘I pray to the goddess Cercis for patience. I pray for deliverance from every living male in all the universes.'

‘There is no need to shout. I can hear you well.' He snorted. ‘By all means pray to your goddess, if it makes you happy.'

She made an odd sound, much like the muffled squeal of a were-cub denied its longed for meal.

‘Thank you, oh great one, for your permission.' Sherise yanked her hair out of his hand and tossed her head. Her eyes were furious as she glared in his direction.

‘'Tis good that you have a sense of humour. It will make our life together much more enjoyable.' He tightened his hold and placed his hand over her belly. Her muscles rippled beneath his touch. He cast a regretful glance around the basement and longed for his lair, where he would spend many hours showing his woman how enjoyable their life would be.

‘Enough! It is obvious I am in the presence of a person not in full possession of his senses.' She dug a sharp elbow into his ribs. She brushed his hands aside before scrambling to her feet. ‘I can no longer hear the wind. The storm has passed and I must continue my search.'

‘Nay, the eye of the storm is above us and that is why it is so quiet. We must remain here.'

Sherise folded her arms across her chest and scowled. ‘Are you certain?'

Irritated at her lack of respect for his authority, Maaka did not bother to respond.

For several long minutes she stood and fidgeted with her gown before she sat down, ensuring she was as far from him as she dared.

Maaka fingered his chin and stared at her. His woman had compressed her plump lips into one thin line. Her posture was brittle and her gaze flickered about the room constantly, although he knew she could see little in the darkness.

She pulsed with fear and distrust, much like an untamed were-dog.

It appeared it would take some effort on his part to rid her of such notions. The making of sons would have to wait.

His shoulders slumped and he glumly focused his attention on the storm beginning to rage once more above the thick ceiling of the basement. ‘We will leave soon. Here, take back your weapon. I would not leave you unprotected.' He slipped the metal object from the waistband of his pants and handed it over.

The woman, after placing her weapon inside her bag, fussed and patted at her clothes again, picking off pieces of dirt. He leaned over and touched the material, ignoring her flinch. He wondered at the glide of such softness against his skin. It reminded him of the resources and technology that continually taunted him with their inaccessibility.

Not for much longer
.

Savage satisfaction pumped adrenaline through his veins, creating energy as great as the fossil fuel that had once been the source of power on old Earth. Soon his people would be equal with the Purideans. Hope and strength would light the path of their future. He would cast down the Corporation and all who sided with them.

And sitting beside him was the key to his success.

‘I cannot imagine that one such as you has no warrior to protect her. Where is your mate? Has he abandoned you?'

‘I have no mate. I have no need of one.' She sat up straighter and narrowed her eyes in his direction.

He snorted. ‘'The men of your race must be foolish indeed, to allow such a prize to slip through their fingers. 'Tis of no importance as I have claimed you.' He puffed out his chest. ‘You have no need to fear. Never will I leave you unguarded.'

‘You have not claimed me!' Her voice rose again. ‘The matter of my safety is nought to do with you.'

‘As your mate, it is my duty to protect you at any cost.' In the darkness, he grinned as she ground her teeth together, her irritation with his bold assertion bouncing off her in waves. He prodded her unmercifully, ‘Since you have no need to spend your time serving your mate, what is it that you do on this ship? Do you have the protection of kin?'

‘My family remained behind. I chose to go on this voyage alone.'

What memories lay behind the guilt he heard in her troubled voice? Maaka passed a hand over his head while he assessed the shadows haunting her exotic slanted eyes of the richest brown. Now was not the time to press any further. Soon, she would trust him enough to share her secrets. For secrets she had. He sensed with every fibre of his being that this woman, his mate, was also tormented by the past. ‘You have not answered me.'

She fiddled with her gown. ‘I have knowledge of many languages and work as a translator.'

She lies. Or she's not telling me the entire truth.

‘I am surprised. I understood you worked with the sick and injured.' For a moment he considered questioning her further about her motives for visiting the Fortress. He longed to know what had occurred during the Star People's meeting with the Board, but he sensed she would prevaricate. He changed the subject smoothly, ignoring her sharp intake of air. ‘I saw the lights of your ship passing across the stars. It looked much larger than the vehicle where you waited for your friends. Tell me, Sherise, where is the other ship?'

Reluctance plain in her voice, as if she was uncertain of how much to reveal, she said, ‘The
Quinnie
is orbiting your planet. After her initial launch she is not meant to land. Usually she orbits, or docks with space stations.' She pointed at the ceiling. ‘She is a star ship capable of travelling through vortexes, which if you know the co-ordinates, can provide links between different galaxies and universes.'

‘Your planet, then, lies a great distance from here?'

‘Yes.' She turned her face towards the wall.

‘Mmmm. This
Quinnie
, if it is so powerful, must be capable of carrying many people.'

She shrugged and did not answer.

‘Will other ships follow?'

She straightened her back. ‘Yes, an entire fleet.'

She lied. Again.

The certainty hit him like a punch in his gut. Once they were fully joined, their minds would also be united. But until that happened he had to make do with guesses and the rare glimpses of her thoughts that hit him when her emotions were highly charged. Maaka raised an eyebrow and considered her. It would be helpful if he could learn how many people, or more to the point, how many soldiers were on board. But still! No other ships meant a limited number of opponents; and, unfortunately, limited resources.

It will have to do.
Until she trusted him, he knew she would not reveal more. He checked the room once more then jumped to the ground.

‘Come, it is time to leave here.' He touched her legs quickly. ‘Wriggle forward and I will lift you to the ground.'

She heaved a mighty sigh but did as he bid. The feel of her firm waist heated his cold skin. For one glorious minute he relished her body, lush and ripe with promise, close against his, before allowing her to shuffle sideways out of his reach. He saw her wince. ‘Do you suffer great pain? Will you be able to walk?'

Her muttered, ‘Of course!' sounded as if it was being wrenched through her gritted teeth.

He grinned, liking her stubbornness and aware her company gave him considerable enjoyment. She eased something deep within his soul, her light beating back the darkness that threatened to devour him from within.