AFamiliarFace (5 page)

She blushed prettily and winked at him. “Well then, Core, hold onto your hat. And make sure you don’t damage anything vital while watching over me.” She stared knowingly at three approaching Phrellians armed to the teeth with blades. “Because I want an apology and some heavy duty ‘appreciation’ when this is over.”

“Done,” he growled before launching himself at the enemy. Dispatching the three took little time, but the next oncoming squad would prove a challenge. If only he could have spirited Mallory away with the others. But he was war leader and had responsibilities. Besides, leaving this woman with anyone but himself he couldn’t do.

His hormones kicked into high gear at the thought of any vile Phrellian attacking this female, and The Snake ascended, his tattoo winding off his body as his true self was made flesh.

Mallory gave a startled cry. “
What the hell?
”

As he systematically destroyed the enemy around him, he only hoped The Snake wouldn’t distract her too badly. They really needed to disable that ship, and quickly, before the next few squads reached them.

Chapter Four

Mallory did her best to ignore the living snake slithering off Core’s torso. Large, with black, purple and blue tiger stripes, a diamond shaped head, and gray-green eyes, the snake looked as alien as the landscape surrounding her.
Three moons.

She shook her head, impressed at Core’s ferocity in dealing with his enemy. The Phrellians could easily have passed for vampires at home, except these creatures possessed long white hair and had decidedly pasty, almost sallow complexions as opposed to a vampire’s alabaster white skin.

Watching how casually the Phrellians disposed of life and that nasty trick of thrusting a hand through that woman’s heart, Mal had no problem whatsoever throwing her lot in with the Talians. Though they might turn out to be as vicious as the Phrellians didn’t quite leave her mind, especially watching Core trounce over a dozen of his enemy. But the Talians hadn’t harmed any women that she’d seen, and Core had been more than tender with her.

She blushed, amazed the male wreaking havoc out there with a giant snake at his side was the same man she’d made love to not half an hour ago.

Hecate’s curse, but she wanted him still. She watched the play of muscles along his back as he hefted his swords, the sheen glistening skin, the gray now a vibrant off-white mottled with color. His thighs strained under the weight of two Phrellians, and she took an unconscious step forward, intending to help.

“Dammit, woman. Stop ogling my ass and project.” Core grunted and threw his attackers to the ground.

Ogling his ass.
Not quite, but close enough. Geesh, did he have eyes in the back of his head? She glanced at him and blew out a relieved breath to see that he didn’t.

Knowing he was right, that they didn’t have all that much time and more enemy were on the way, she took a deep breath and concentrated. Leaving her corporeal form behind, she flew through time and space into the Phrellian ship.

Who had suggested cutting the fuel line?
I’m such an idiot
.
What the hell do I know about alien spaceships?
For all Mal knew, the Phrellians used telekinesis to move. How did she figure to follow the archaic symbols on the ship, symbols in the Phrellians’ language? Annoyed with her overzealous ego that thought she could do anything, she tried to figure out a way to dismantle the ship as her spirit hurried through the corridors.

  Several Phrellians causing fear and dismay in those they passed caught her attention. The taller one wore epaulets with large red dots on them. An officer, maybe? At the least, a source of information. She trailed him into what had to be the bridge. Several subdued Phrellians, all male, hovered over small computer stations. The entire room seemed like something out of a
Star Trek
episode, until she realized the odd touch of plant life in the room was so much more.

Green and red tendrils, what looked like branches and odd black star-shaped flowers, moved through and around the technical equipment. Bursts of light seemed to pulse from the vines into the computers. The Phrellian ship was not only metallic, but organic in nature. Fascinating. Now how could she use that information to stop the ship?

She neared one thick vein of the plant and mumbled a small spell. Placing her insubstantial hand through the wide stalk, she felt for the root of the thing. Sudden flashes of light bombarded the equipment around her, and the Phrellians began screeching, glancing all around.

Obviously the plant sensed an intruder. But thankfully, she remained invisible. Or at least, she thought she had, until a Phrellian wearing black glasses pointed a finger in her direction.

Shit.
Flying through the air out of the bridge, through several corridors and down several shafts, she traced the plant’s foundation, thinking that in disabling the plant, she might also disable the ship. What she saw when she came to the ship’s center froze her in shock.

Within a smaller room of glass lay a bed of dark black soil, an almost liquid pool through which shapes blurred and bumped against the glass. In the middle of the mess stood a huge, almost ten-foot wide dark green stalk with branches and tendrils spiraling over the glass and into the main room.  The tendrils probably stretched throughout the ship, to more than just the bridge, as she could see the green and red material plastered to the walls and the ceiling all around.

At the head of the plant sat a flower, a black tulip-shaped bulb. But what struck her most about the flower was the way it shifted and hissed at the Phrellians perched on a small overhang next to it. To her shock and disgust, the Phrellians were throwing body parts over top of the plant. The hissing seemed to be a digestive process, as the plant devoured a foot, then a hand and next a head.

Phrellian or Talian, the creature seemed not to care what it devoured, so long as it was fed.

Feeling sick to her stomach, she realized the black soil was in fact a mixture of waste and blood, and the mess pushing against the glass was probably bone and other indigestible matter.

This thing has got to go
. In her astral state, Mal, unlike most witches, could perform magic with ease. Though not as powerful as she was in her corporeal form, Mal could conjure and command the elements. And fire seemed a sure way to rid the ship of its
soul
.

As she chanted the spell that would spark a fire within the stalk, she thought of Core, wondering if he knew about this creature, and if so, what he thought. Worry for him had her hurrying the spell, and without knowing how she did it, she threw a monstrous blaze at the creature in less time than it normally took her to throw on her boots.

The minute the fire licked it, the plant began to writhe in pain. The ship buckled, tilting precariously to the left.
Hot damn
. Her intuition had been spot on, and the Phrellians ran around in a panic, not sure how to help their—pet?

Fear for Core pushed her into leaving before she finished the monstrous creature. In the time she’d been touring the ship and setting fire to a demon Venus Flytrap, the War Leader had likely been battling scores of Phrellians. For all that he and that snake had strength, even Core was only one man -- Talian.

Whooshing out of the ship and back into her body, she blinked hazily up at a vision of Core covered in cuts and smeared in blue…blood. He wavered on his feet as he finished off the last remaining Phrellian. Bodies littered the ground, dust and black ooze everywhere.

“Core?” she croaked. She tried to move but couldn’t. She’d left herself standing, and her feet felt numb. Core didn’t appear to hear her, but the snake at his side quickly turned and eyed her like its next meal. “Core?” she whispered again, nervous when the snake flicked its tongue in her direction and slithered closer.

The snake was at least a few hundred pounds, its body broad and long, with wickedly sharp teeth and surprisingly intelligent eyes, eyes that looked just like Core’s.

It neared, and she drummed enough energy to take a step back, stilling when it hissed its displeasure. She hesitated to harm it, knowing the snake had a connection to Core. But he wasn’t responding, and she really didn’t want to be its next meal. Before she could conjure a spell, the snake coiled around her in a move too fast to counter.

One minute it glared at her, the next it held her imprisoned as it wound around her body. Her eyes widened, but not altogether with fear. This snake, this creature, felt like a
familiar
. She sensed raw, untapped power in its body and mind and relaxed under the recognizable feel of magic.

The snake immediately loosened its hold. It slithered around her and sniffed at her with curiosity rather than threat. The feel of its tongue against her cheek tickled. She could only imagine the sight of them both to be unbelievable. She knew any other witch in the same situation would have screamed bloody murder. Yet Mal, a poor little trade witch used to working as her own familiar, was used to such lower magic. She normally took the form of a cat because it didn’t arouse as much notice as a snake, but she’d once or twice become the reptile, just for the sheer hell of it.

“Mallory?” Core blinked and turned to stare at her in surprise. His lips curled into a grin and the snake started to purr. “You feel very comforting. Very warm.”

She stared at him with concern. His eyes, what were once a beautiful gray-green, now were yellow, an almost sickly color. His skin seemed a pasty gray, and his blood, not red but blue, streamed over his skin as if he’d bathed in it.

“Core, you’re hurt. Let me try to heal you.” When she took a step closer, the snake tightened around her, thankfully saving her from buckling to the ground. She suddenly felt shaky, weak, and knew the powerful spell she’d used in the Phrellian ship had taken its toll.

He hissed at the snake, rumbling foreign words she couldn’t begin to describe, and walked
through
it to take her in his arms. A soft blue nimbus encompassed them both, and then Core once again wore the snake on his body. A body covered in blood.

“Core, you need help.”
Hell, so do I.
The thready sound of her voice alarmed her. She couldn’t protect or heal him if she passed out.

“Don’t worry,
kina
. I’ll take care of you. A gift from the gods should always be treasured.”  He smiled, his teeth bright white and thankfully flat. “Now close your eyes and conserve your energy. The trek to the Yuka Forest will be long.”

It took less energy to obey him than to fight, so she closed her eyes to rebuild her strength. She wanted to ask him how he’d taken control of the situation, what his snake really was and why he seemed so comfortable with her when blessed sleep took over.

* * *

Core forced his body to move, ignoring the pain as he drew on his true self’s energy. He’d been both relieved and troubled when Mallory finally rejoined her body. He’d dispatched all but a few of the Phrellians, but the many venomous bites and stab wounds he’d suffered leeched his strength. At least his true self—The Snake—stood firm, no doubt due to Ratlaharan’s favor.

Unfortunately, he had only so much control over it. When he’d seen the snake hug Mallory within its coils, he’d been frozen with fear.

Then his true self seemed to recognize Mallory, for the warning squeeze had quickly turned into an affectionate embrace, one he himself wanted to share with the woman he intended on claiming.

But weakness had replaced her vigor. Like him, she’d turned distressingly pale. He held her securely in his arms and glanced over his shoulder at the lilting Phrellian vessel. He only hoped she hadn’t done irreparable damage to herself for having helped his people.

He snuggled her closer as they began the long journey to Yuka, the only place he knew of to heal her spirit. He needed her whole as quickly as possible, and himself as well. He couldn’t protect her well enough in this state. The thought of any harm done to Mallory made him weak in the knees. That in itself should have told him he’d found a worthy mate. Yet this attraction to the odd
witch
, as she called herself, made him more than curious.

Core had lain with other females and enjoyed their differences. But he’d never been drawn to a woman not of the Talian race for mating. It wasn’t that he shared in any prejudice, just that he’d been born and built to procreate his race. Duty and mission had been instilled by the priests of Ratlaharan himself. Through Core, one day the Phrellians would be a threat no more, and the Talian race would perpetuate and thrive, again living in peace and harmony in the high plains of Horum Veirus. But until he rid his people of the hated Phrellians, who existed in large numbers and with technology he and his kind barely understood, it would be a long time before peace was anything more than a dream.

He stumbled and steadied himself, damning the rush of Phrellians that had managed to knock him to the ground. It had been a split second before he’d been up again, but the damage had been done. Even now he could feel Phrellian poison spreading through his body. He shivered, caught in a fever of need for blood, to feed and thus make him one of the enemy, spreading their tainted bloodline. He’d faced and fought off the poison before, but he’d never been bitten so many times or been scoured with Phrellian talons so often. The talons had done the most damage, for they injected the poison much deeper into the bloodstream.