Alien Refuge (47 page)

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Authors: Tracy St. John

Tags: #dominationsubmission, #erotica aliens, #clans of kalquor, #kalquor, #erotica bdsm, #tracy st john, #futuristic erotica, #science fiction erotica, #erotica, #menage

BOOK: Alien Refuge
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Ospar reminded them of the one advantage they still held. “Slade doesn’t have Iris back yet. He won’t leave without her unless he absolutely has to. He has Thomas to ensure she surrenders to him.”

“Not for long, he doesn’t. Tell her I swear our child will be returned to her.” Jol turned on his heel and left after one last look at Iris.

Ospar needed to put his own resources to work. Hopefully, Borl had returned to the office by now. He clicked on his com.

“Ospar to Borl.”

A long silence followed. When seconds passed without an answer, Ospar frowned. He tried again. “Borl, please answer.”

Silence spun out, and the Dramok fought the urge to throw the com across the room. “Damn it, now what’s going on?”

* * * *

Father Stephen rocked Thomas in his lap. The child had not stopped crying since the priest had taken him from Iris and his father had beaten her senseless. Occasionally Thomas screamed, “Where’s Mommy?” A few times he had managed to lunge free of Stephen, shouting, “Goodbye, bad Daddy. Go away,” as he attempted to escape the room.

Stephen held the agonized boy, trying to soothe him and keep him quiet, especially in the wake of Conrad Slade yelling, “Shut up or I’ll lock you in one of these bins!” That threat had set off the opposite effect of what they all wanted: Thomas had screamed with hysteria for a solid fifteen minutes afterward.

Right now, the child was having one of his quieter periods of weeping and softly moaning. Stephen’s heart ached for the boy, particularly now that he admitted to himself that he had made such an enormous mistake.

He, Thomas, Slade, Governor Hoover, and Dramok Borl were currently hidden in the basement of one of the colony’s grain storage buildings. Bins of tools and next year’s seeds for planting filled much of the packed dirt floor. It was cold in here, and Stephen had covered Thomas in his own coat to keep the boy warm as they sat on a black plastic bin. Members of the E.I.K. who had survived their attack on the Kalquorian temple were topside, keeping a look out for Kalquorian security patrols.

A few feet from where Stephen sat clutching Thomas, the other three stood discussing their next move.

An exultant Borl said, “Send a message to Ospar. Tell him that Thomas will be returned to his mother if all Kalquorians leave Haven without any Earther women.”

Slade gave him a withering look that might have worked on the executives that jockeyed for his approval back on Earth. “I have no intention of giving up my son. And Mira will be with me as well. I should have brought her along while I had the chance. I’m no longer interested in helping your pathetic cause.”

Dear God, how Stephen had screwed up. He could see how Slade didn’t truly care for Thomas. Except for screaming at the boy to be quiet, Slade had paid him no attention at all. And the way he had kicked Iris during the attack, making bones snap until the priest was sure she’d be killed, only made Stephen’s insides curl tight in revulsion. The disgust he felt was for both himself and Slade, in equal measures.

I should have stopped him from hurting her. I should have kept Thomas safe instead of bringing him here.

The argument that Iris was damned because she’d chosen Ospar’s clan over a Godly existence no longer held water, in the priest’s opinion. No one deserved to be beaten as badly as she had. No one deserved to be handed over to a monster like Conrad Slade.

Borl spoke gently to Slade, though there was a mocking light in his purple alien eyes. “Telling Ospar you’ll hand Thomas over is a lie, of course. Once Haven is emptied of Kalquorians, you can do as you please with your family.”

“As is his right as head of the household,” Hoover asserted loftily. He had lost whatever reluctance he might have had over Thomas’ kidnapping in the excitement of striking such a blow against the Kalquorians, particularly Governor Ospar.

Then again, he hadn’t seen the way Slade had beaten Iris either.

Father Stephen thought,
It’s up to me to make things right. I have to keep Iris out of Slade’s hands because the bastard will kill her. I have to get Thomas to safety because he’ll no doubt suffer too.

It was the only way to alleviate the guilt filling his soul. This insanity of killing and hurting was not God’s will. Stephen was sure of it. He had to make amends no matter how it turned out for his own safety.

He spoke up, keeping his tone as gentle as possible so Thomas would remain calm. “You need someone to present your demands.”

Borl turned to him, one eyebrow lifting. “Yes, we do. Are you volunteering?”

Stephen was a little surprised to hear how clear and firm his own tone came out. It only affirmed his resolve in the matter. He told the others, “Governor Hoover’s part in this must never be known, not as long as the Kalquorians hang onto their power here. He is the leader we Earthers need to keep our course strong.”

He kept talking, gathering steam. “If you were to bring our demands to Ospar, Dramok Borl, he may suspect you are part of your own worthy revolution. No one else besides me has any real clout when it comes to Earther voice. Plus Ospar would not harm a religious leader despite the message, I hope?”

Borl’s eyes narrowed at first. As he considered Stephen’s assertions, a smile played around his lips. He nodded. “I think you would be safer than anyone else who brought Ospar our demands.” The Kalquorian turned his gaze to Hoover. “It is a good plan. Father Stephen is the perfect go-between for the E.I.K. and Governor Ospar.”

Hoover beamed at the priest. “I agree. Thank you, Father. Your service will be an example to all.”

Stephen hugged the still whimpering Thomas, the boy’s warmth huddled against him in a ball. “I certainly hope so, for all our sakes.”

* * * *

“Mommy! Where’s Mommy?”

Iris ran through the Temple of Life, through its endless forest of white tree-shaped pillars as she tried to find Thomas. Snow crunched under her feet as she went, which made no sense. Still, she couldn’t stop to wonder at that, not when Thomas needed her.

He somehow got away from Conrad. I have to find my baby before that monster does.

Iris cried out, “Thomas? Mommy’s right here! Where are you?”

“Where’s Mommy?” His voice was choked. He was crying, looking for her, his voice fading as he went farther away.

Iris’ heart pounded in panic. “Thomas? Thomas, where are you? Come back this way!”

The crackling of a fire got her attention. Suddenly she was running up to Master Nis, who stood before the temple’s big bonfire pit. He fed a painting of Thomas, her little boy, her baby, into the flames.

“No!” she screamed, watching her son’s face blacken and curl as the canvas went up.

Nis regarded her with a sad but understanding smile. “It’s too bad, isn’t it? But even the most beautiful of our creations cannot be kept. We must release them all.”

It was only a painting, not her child, Iris reminded herself. She asked Nis, “Have you seen my son?”

He shook his head and regarded the ruined painting. “All gone. We cannot keep anything, no matter how perfect.”

Iris was wasting time. She turned from the priest and started running through those neverending trees once more. “Thomas? Thomas!”

“Where’s Mommy? Mommy?”

His voice was fading away, disappearing. She was losing him, but that couldn’t happen, must not happen. She had to find him!

“Thomas! Thomas!” she screamed.

“Iris, wake up.”

Hands gripped either side of her face, and she fought to push them off. She didn’t have time for Ospar now. She had to find her baby. “Thomas! Thomas!”

Then the pristine white world of the temple fragmented. Her eyes flew open. Ospar and Rivek’s worried faces hovered over hers.

Where was she? Where was Thomas? Iris struggled to get up, to break free of the two men and whatever kept her from moving anything but her head, which shook from side to side in Ospar’s gentle grip.

Rivek spoke, his tone intense. “Quiet, Iris. Calm down. Jol is looking for Thomas.”

Ospar added, “He will be found and returned to you. I swear it.”

She wasn’t interested in their assertions. Only searching for her son mattered. “Why can’t I move? Let me up!”

Rivek said, “You were badly hurt, Iris. You’re immobilized to keep you from re-injuring yourself. Calm down and we’ll let you get up.”

Finally his words got through, restoring some sense to the panic that had enfolded her. She blinked tears out of her eyes and heard the quiet hum of machines. She couldn’t see anything beyond the two men standing over her, but she could feel the soft surface beneath her back. “Am I in the hospital?”

“Yes.”

Iris remembered the attack on the temple. The attack on herself. She’d been unable to run, to even crawl after Thomas as Conrad and the other man took the screaming boy away.

She sobbed, her heart breaking. “I couldn’t stop him. He’s got my baby. He’s got my little boy. He took him away from me!”

Gentle fingers stroked her hair, face, and shoulders. Ospar’s face worked with both anger and grief as he said, “We will find him, my love. That bastard will not keep our son.”

Iris found strength in the Dramok’s firm vow. “You said Jol is looking for him?”

Rivek nodded. “I know my Nobek, precious. He will not rest until Thomas is safely home with us again. On that you can rely.”

Iris fought to make the tears end. She gathered her resolve. Jol was searching for Thomas, whom the Nobek loved with all his fierce heart. He would find their son. He would bring Thomas home safe. She needed to be helping him, not lying here crying like a pathetic damsel in distress, waiting for the hero to come and save the day.

Swallowing back her terror, Iris asked, “Can I get up?”

Ospar and Rivek exchanged a look. The Imdiko nodded.

Ospar leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “If you will remain calm, my Matara. The repairs to your body are still new and it wouldn’t take much to undo them.”

“My legs will work again?” She remembered that awful lack of control.

“The damage to your spine was corrected. However, you must be mindful that too much physical stress at this stage of your recovery will put you right back on your back.” The Dramok grimaced. “I’ll admit, I’d rather keep you immobilized here where I know you’ll be all right.”

“I’ll be careful,” Iris promised.

Reluctantly, Ospar said, “Very well, then.”

Iris hadn’t been aware of the light pressure all over her body until it disappeared and she could move again. She looked down at herself, staring at the computerized consoles that lay over her torso. Her shoulders and upper chest were bare, warning her she was nude beneath the medical pieces.

Ospar and Rivek stepped back just a bit. Rivek did something that made the bed move, raising her to a sitting position.

Iris looked around the room. The walls displayed vid readouts, scans of her body’s internal structure and workings, and blinking lights and buttons that she couldn’t guess the function of. None of it held much interest for her.

She asked the two grim-faced men, “Do we know if it was the E.I.K. who helped Conrad?”

Ospar’s mouth opened to answer, but he was interrupted by his com beeping. He clicked it live as he brought it close to his face, and a familiar voice spoke.

“Borl to Governor Ospar.”

The Dramok scowled, his face going dark. “It’s about damned time.” He snarled into the com, “I have been trying to reach you, Borl. Where are you?”

“Back at your office, sir. There is someone here claiming to be a member of the E.I.K. He wants to negotiate the terms of the little boy’s release.”

“I’m on my way.” Ospar shut the com off and reached for the snowsuit slung over a nearby seat.

Iris’ heart slammed hard against her breastbone, and she pushed against the consoles keeping her in bed. “Take me too. Damn it, get this thing off me!”

Rivek pressed her shoulders down. “Stop it, my Matara. You are in no condition to leave this facility.”

She struggled. “They have my son, Rivek. I can’t just sit here and wait while everyone else runs to the rescue. I have to be there.”

“Iris—”

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