Amorous Overnight (13 page)

“Of course we can help him.” Ketrok sounded insulted that she’d even ask. “After I assess the extent of the damage to his brain, I’ll formulate a vaccine to clear the plaques, a garavirus to correct the mutations, and an infusion of cerebroblasts to rebuild the affected neural pathways and damaged tissue. Any memories he’s already lost likely will not return but he’ll regain full cognitive function.”

“Mike!” Her mother rushed to the couch and wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck. It was hard to hold back her tears as she watched them hug and kiss and whisper reassurances in each other’s ears.

Ketrok nodded at the minister and then disappeared in a flare bubble.

Alex looked completely lost so she sent him to check on the babies. Then she looked at the minister and Hastion, who were still standing in the middle of the living room. “I’m sorry, won’t you both sit down? Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you,” the minister said, giving her father’s recliner a dubious glance before sitting down carefully. He looked almost as ridiculous in it as she felt when she sat in their huge furniture, and at that moment she wanted nothing more than to jump into his lap and give him a great big hug, and maybe even a kiss.

Hastion gave her mother’s small wingback chair an even more dubious look and then grinned at her. “I believe I’ll stand.”

Not knowing what else to do, Shelley said, “Thank you, Minister. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“It is not only the least we can do, Ms. Bonham,” he said with a regal nod, “it is my pleasure.”

Two hours later, they all sat around her parents’ kitchen table, enjoying a junk food feast of epic proportions. Alex had driven Tara and Janelle around the strip and picked up everything from KFC to Pizza Hut to Dairy Queen. They’d even brought Shelley her favorite Georgia Mud Fudge Blizzard, and one for a curious Hastion as well.

“I’d like to ask you something, Minister,” Shelley said, “and I hope you won’t be offended because I mean no offense at all.”

“Ask, Ms. Bonham,” he said, clearly in a magnanimous mood after having polished off most of a supreme pizza by himself.

She savored a bite of chewy brownie and crunchy pecans before asking, “Why haven’t you shared more of your medical miracles with our doctors? I mean, you apparently have it in your power to cure most of our world’s illnesses.”

He nodded. “It’s a fair question, but let me ask you a question in return—what do you think would happen to your planet if your life spans were suddenly nearly doubled?”

She thought about it for only a moment. “Earth would become horribly overpopulated.”

“Exactly. Overpopulation is already an issue on parts of the planet, and your people appear to have little desire to control it. We must allow some of you to die in order for more of you to live. We will gradually share more of our knowledge as your civilization grows capable of applying it with wisdom and discipline for the benefit of all.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Her throat grew tight. “It also makes what you’ve done for my family that much more of a blessing.”

Ketrok had applied infusion buttons to the chests of all her family, and her father, already acting more like the fun, relaxed dad she remembered, had apologized profusely for his behavior earlier.

“That was remarkably tasty,” Hastion said, dropping the red-plastic spoon into his empty cup. “After eating this meal, I can understand why Terrans are so fat.”

The rest of Shelley’s Blizzard suddenly lost its appeal. Her cheeks and ears stinging with heat, she dropped it into the trash can behind her as inconspicuously as possible.

“I wish there were some way we could repay you, Minister,” her mother said while she played patty-cake with Wyatt. “I feel like you’ve given us back our lives.”

“To be perfectly truthful, I’m hoping your daughter will consider accompanying us to Garathan. We’re sorely in need of nurses.”

Shelley turned and looked at him. This was the first time he’d ever said anything to her about going to Garathan. He looked back at her, his eyes a warmer gray than she’d ever seen them, and she recognized something in them.

Hope. It wasn’t just a word he was saying—he actively hoped she would say yes.

Something in her that had been held down for too long burst free. They needed her. They really, honestly, needed her, and she could help them. Wasn’t that why she’d become a nurse in the first place, to help people in need?

She could almost hear her shrink, Ramona, cheering her on.
Ride that dragon, Shelley! Hell, be the dragon!

Dragging her gaze from his, she said, “I want to do it, Mom.”

“What!” Tara laughed incredulously. “You’re always telling me how you can’t wait to get away from them.”

“Tara!” Shelley blushed, looking back and forth between Hastion and the minister. “I only said that because I was scared. But I’m not anymore, and I really want to go, not just for the money but for the adventure. And now you don’t have to postpone your trip either. I was feeling really bad about keeping you from your assigned mates.”

Tara shrugged. “Hey, it’s fine with me. I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

Her mother pouted. “But I was just getting to know my grandbabies.”

“You’re welcome to accompany us to Garathan, Mrs. Southern,” the minister interjected.

Shelley’s heart instantly swelled with hope. “Yes! You could all come with us—right, Minister?” she said with an encouraging look.

He tipped his head. “Of course.”

“Oh!” Mom looked startled.

“No way!” Alex laughed. “Mom in space? It’ll never happen. She won’t even fly in a plane.”

She swatted his arm. “Alexander! I wouldn’t let a little thing like fear keep me from seeing Shelley and my grandbabies. If she can do it, I can do it.”

“Maybe we could arrange a visit later,” Dad said firmly. “We have a life here, and I run my own business. I can’t just take a few months off without a lot of planning.”

Shelley sighed. She should have known that was too good to be true. “Well at least we’ll be able to send video messages. If the AAD relocated me, I wouldn’t be able to have any contact with you at all.”

“That’s true.” Her mother sighed too. “We’ll miss you and be counting the days until you come home.”

Shelley put an arm around her mother and laid her head on her shoulder. “Me too, Mom.”

Chapter Six

When Hastion entered the sparring center that evening, only one of the three circular arenas was occupied. A number of males in various states of dress hovered around baya arena, no doubt waiting to see whom their leader intended to thrash the conceit out of this time. The low hum of their conversation went abruptly silent when they saw Hastion.

One of the males stepped aside to reveal Cecine, who wore nothing but a white exercise brief. The gleam of anticipation in his eye frayed what little remained of Hastion’s composure. Peserin’s hell, he hadn’t imagined anything yesterday—the minister was eager to thrash him.

Keeping his spine straight and his head high, he made his way to the changing area. The uneventful remainder of his guard shift had given him too much time to envision every potentially awful outcome of this match, and he could hardly keep his hands steady as he stripped down to his black brief and draped his uniform over a bench. Very few things in his life had been harder to endure than the minister’s growing dissatisfaction with him. He should never have offered himself as second, much less agreed to provide sexual service. He’d tried to have his cake and eat it too, as the Terran saying went, and now he was trapped in a hell of his own making.

All that remained to be seen was how much worse he could fuck himself.

Hastion pulled his hair over his right shoulder, quickly weaving it into a loose braid and tying it off with a thong as the minister had done, and then blew out a couple of inconspicuous breaths before turning to face the arena. He blinked when he saw the crowd that had gathered in the short time it had taken to prepare himself.

Fuck. Ensign Mikal must have followed him from the Command Core. He leaned against the bulkhead with his thick arms crossed, smirking as though Hastion had already been thoroughly thrashed.

That was something else he hadn’t considered carefully enough—the minister’s other personal guards. They resented what they perceived as Cecine’s unmerited favor in naming him second and didn’t hesitate to speculate aloud as to the reasons for it. Mikal had been particularly insufferable, gesturing lewdly and making sly inquiries about his bowel health, often in front of large groups of warriors.

Hastion ignored him, as always, and stepped down two knee-high ledges into the pit of baya arena, where the pad under his bare feet was thicker to cushion the impact of flying bodies. When he reached the center, he and Cecine briefly gripped each other’s left forearms in the traditional greeting of competitors and his heart rate doubled. For the first time, he wasn’t the passive recipient of the minister’s impersonal touch, but an equal participant. He was about to lay his hands on that pale, elegantly sculpted body—grasp it, grapple with it and ultimately either subdue or be subdued by it.

His breath stalled as prickly heat swelled from his perineum, tightening his scrotum and anus, and filling his cock. Powers above, now was not the time for an erection.

“Show the boy how a real warrior fights, Minister,” one of the males called out.

“If this were a formal challenge, there would have been an announcement,” Cecine replied without looking away from Hastion. “Ensign Hastion and I have both been lax in our training in recent months. We merely seek to remedy that. Are you ready for a workout, Ensign?”

Though the challenge in the minister’s eyes was at odds with his words, Hastion took a deep breath and said neutrally, “I am, sir.”

“Excellent. Holligan, you may call the start.”

“Aye, sir.”

They both took a step back into sparring stances and then Hastion scrambled to realign his. Fortunately, he didn’t favor either side, so leading with his left foot didn’t put him at a disadvantage. Did the minister favor the left or did he switch to throw his opponents off? Probably the latter, if his cunning smile was any indication.

Pride shot more steel into Hastion’s backbone. They’d see who took a proper chastening tonight.

“Mark!” Holligan called.

Hastion crouched lower, prepared to deflect an attack, but the minister only widened his stance—and his grin—waiting for Hastion to come to him. In no mood to tolerate a protracted defensive battle, Hastion obliged him, lunging for his neck with both hands and then dropping at the last second to tackle him at the waist. As Cecine flew backward, he grabbed one of Hastion’s wrists and the back of his neck. He’d barely landed on the pad when he scissored his legs around Hastion’s waist and flipped over on top of him.

Instantly Hastion made a bridge of his body and shoved him over, rolling with him, but Cecine’s grip on his neck hadn’t loosened and he used Hastion’s momentum against him, curling feetfirst over his torso to land sideways across his chest. Undeterred, Hastion curled his own body quickly enough to clamp his knees around Cecine’s head.

Cecine’s bark of laughter startled him enough that he loosened his grip and lost the advantage when the other male jerked away. Knowing a strategic retreat was in order, Hastion rolled to the side and sprang to his feet. Cecine did the same, his face alight with enjoyment as the other males cheered him on.

“You’re quick, Ensign,” he said, wiping his forehead with his arm.

Panting, Hastion smiled grimly. “I have to be, sir.”

That was all the respite he got. The minister went on the offensive this time, grabbing his neck. Hastion ducked out of his sweaty grip and seized Cecine’s hard thigh. Rather than staggering back, Cecine stiffened his legs and threw his weight forward onto Hastion’s back, clamping one arm around his waist. Hastion cursed silently as Cecine grabbed his ankle with his free hand, wrenching it toward him. Clearly he wasn’t the only one who’d picked up some Terran close-combat techniques.

They flipped and rolled and grappled their way around the arena for a half hour, growing progressively less civilized with every attack and escape. The harder the minister tried to pin him down, the more violently Hastion fought, and when he managed to pry himself out of a brutal headlock, he lashed out with a kick to Cecine’s midsection. Although the air rushed out of him in a harsh grunt, Cecine managed to grab Hastion’s ankle and twist with both hands. Hastion dropped his hands to the pad and twisted into a backward flip, kicking him in the jaw with the other foot as they both went down.

“Break,” Holligan called.

Hastion immediately jumped to his feet and offered the minister a hand up, still vibrating with the adrenaline of combat. Breathing roughly, Cecine eyed it with amusement before accepting.

“My apologies, Ensign,” he said as he rose, “but as much as I’d like to continue this, it appears my presence is required elsewhere.”

The other males grumbled their disappointment as they began to disperse, but Hastion nearly sagged with relief. It was the best outcome he could possibly have hoped for.

“Perhaps another time, sir,” he said automatically, breathing deeply to calm himself.