Ghost in Her Heart (2 page)

It was from the recruitment department of
Dagon Academy, Science Division.

Hands shaking, Helvana took a deep breath to
calm herself. This was it. Her one chance at greatness. With luck,
all her years of study in a much denigrated branch of science were
about to be rewarded.

She tore open the envelope, scanned the
contents, and squealed.

Alarmed, Kelsa straightened, ready for
action. “What is it?”

“Yes! I did it!” She did a little victory
dance and pumped her arm in the air. “Yes, yes, YES!”

As if afraid she’d lost a few screws, Kelsa
sent her an odd look and quickly snatched the letter away. Her
expression turned skeptical. “You’re not seriously thinking of
going.”

Helvana shot an incredulous look at her for
that stupid remark. “If you think I’m giving up a once in a
lifetime chance to further my education while also paying it off,
you’re sadly mistaken. All I have to do is get accepted and they
pay off my loans. It’s like an army thing.”

A pen flipped rapidly between Kelsa’s fingers
as she cocked her head. “I don’t know about those military types.
They’re all a horny bunch. I say, ‘trust them with your hide, but
not your virtue’.”

Vana’s mouth dropped open. “My what?”

Kelsa’s slashed a hand through the air. “You
never date. I’m your all-knowing roommate, remember? It’s my job to
keep creeps away from you.”

“Creeps like your friends? Might I remind you
of Eric the Irritating? King of the Arm Pit Noises?” Vana batted
her eyes at her rapidly in a way that said she was really
something. “And you don’t have to worry. My virtue is perfectly
safe. Besides, you’re just annoyed that you won’t be able to keep
tabs on every little detail of my love life.”

“Maybe, but I still can’t picture you in army
green. You hate to get up earlier than eight in the morning. How do
you plan to stay awake when they get you up at five am to run?”

“I don’t see why you’re so worried—it’s not
like you’ll be the one running around in combat boots with a gun.”
She was concentrating on the academic part of the school to avoid
thinking about the physical stuff. It was true that she sucked at
gym.

Since she was determined to go, she chose to
think positive. She could do anything if she put her mind to
it.

It wasn’t as if it would be for the rest of
her life.

“Oh no, oh no, aw…nuts!” Helvana whimpered in
frustration and leaned her throbbing head against the steering
wheel. It would figure that the only spur of the moment trip she’d
ever taken would end with her car dying on a deserted back road in
the middle of nowhere. It was late, though the Alaskan midnight sun
didn’t know it. The prospect of sleeping in her car made her reach
for her recycled water bottle and dig a painkiller out of her
purse.

No phone, no money, no car. The phrase
thrummed through her skull as if set to bass. She got out of the
car and looked around. Kicked her tire for good measure. Not a 7-11
from horizon to horizon. What had possessed her to leave
Anchorage?

The sound of a motorcycle downshifting
brought her out of her reverie. Stiff and wary, she stared at the
black helmeted man who pulled up like some dark knight sent to
rescue her. Or something worse. Where had he come from?

“Trouble?”

I don’t know, are you? She bit her lip,
wondering about his smoky, rough accent. She’d never heard anything
like it. “My car broke down. You wouldn’t happen to have a cell
phone, would you?” she asked hopefully. It would end the dilemma of
whether or not she would have to accept a ride from a complete
stranger...if he offered.

He shook his head and removed his helmet.
Helvana stared. Oh, he was trouble all right. From his short dark
hair to his ice blue eyes, it was written all over his handsome
face. It took just a touch of five o’clock shadow and—was that an
earring?—to tilt him into the dangerous category.

Spank me, a naughty part of her
whispered.

Shut up! Helvana hissed back. He could be a
mass murderer for all we know.

She stepped back as he got off the bike. The
black leather of his jacket creaked. My, he was tall. And built.
She swallowed.

Although he wore a black leather jacket, she
could tell by the fit of his jeans that the man worked out. And
when he popped her hood and bent over….

She looked away and searched for something to
say. “Um, do you think you can fix it?”

He looked at her in disbelief. “Who’s your
mechanic?” He gestured to the guts of her car. “This looks like a
kid threw it together out of scrap parts.”

A cool fall breeze kicked up and she hugged
herself. Irritated at his attitude and the situation, she kicked a
rock. “I bought it from a neighbor kid.” The kid had needed the
money, and she’d liked the restored old vehicle. At the time it had
been all she could afford.

The hood slammed shut. “Well, you can’t stay
here.” He looked at her as if judging her caliber. “Are you going
to stay here or take a chance with me?” A tilt of his head
indicated the bike.

“I…” She let out a frustrated breath. It was
either go with him or wait around for another stranger. “Okay.
Thank you,” she said reluctantly. After all, he was being helpful.
“Let me just get my back pack.” There was no point in grabbing her
duffle bag, since it was loaded with more books and stuff than
could ever fit on his bike, so she nabbed her pack with her
essentials and locked her doors.

“Hop on.” He made room for her on the seat as
she gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder and threw a leg over. He
handed her the helmet. “Stick your hands in my pockets if they get
cold,” he told her, and started the engine.

Helvana swallowed hard. Uh, no, she thought.
She’d have to be mighty chilly to do such an intimate thing. It was
hard enough to grasp his waist and not think about how close they
were on the bike. Nothing like that had ever happened to her.
Handsome men didn’t get close to her. Neither did anyone else.

The helmet was too big. Worse, it smelled
like his aftershave. The intoxicating scent of man and male teased
her nose. Eyes closed, she inhaled the rich musk as the pavement
whizzed by.

She just hoped she didn’t make an idiot of
herself before the night was done.

Dagon couldn’t believe the woman. She drove
out of the city with a light jacket in a rickety car, then told a
total stranger that she had nobody near to help her. Had survival
instincts been totally bred out of Earth women, or was she just
that flustered?

Lucky for her, he’d been returning from a
scouting mission and had seen her car, recognized her from her
dossier. He would have helped any woman, and definitely one slatted
to become a warrior’s wife. Not his wife, though.

He’d hope for one with more survival
instincts.

She was pretty. All of the applicants were
attractive, or could be with a little help. Sleek brown hair waved
down her back, stopping about midway. Grey-green eyes bright with
interest had looked him over warily. Very well, perhaps she wasn’t
unaware of the danger, just optimistic that he would help and not
harm her.

He hadn’t missed the way she’d stared. The
look had affected him, made him feel hopeful that he could attract
a wife, though that could change when he washed the makeup off his
scar. It had also roused in him the hunger that was never far below
the surface.

She looked too good in jeans and her clingy
knit top.

He shook his head sharply and gunned the
throttle, making her hold tighter. Maybe the wind would wash away
this feeling.

The hunger was what made the men of his
generation so wild in battle. They’d had no women, no hope of
finding a mate in their lifetimes. The hunger had grown, made them
reckless, impossibly dangerous in combat. With no women to distract
him, Dagon had spent many hours honing his fighting skills,
hardening his body. Only the pain of constant, furious work had
kept the despair at bay. The need.

And now he had a living, breathing woman
holding him in her arms….

The hunger stirred.

It only took half an hour to reach a tiny
village with a bar and a hotel. Since everything else was closed,
he parked the bike and led her into the bar. A few customers
glanced their way as they entered the dim joint, then went back to
their beer and conversations. The smell of sizzling steaks made his
stomach rumble with the promise of dinner. He fervently hoped the
grill was still open as he escorted her past the pool tables to the
pay phone. She dialed while he made use of the restroom.

She smiled a little when he came out. “I
called the academy and told them I’d be a little late. They sent a
tow truck to get my car, and someone to pick me up, but he won’t be
here until early the next morning.” She glanced around the bar and
tried not to look chagrined.

“The academy?” he asked, pretending he didn’t
know who she was and what she was up to. “That wouldn’t be the
Dagon Academy, would it?”

She blinked. “You’ve heard of it?”

With a wicked grin, he took her hand and
kissed it. “Dagon T’Siantal. No relation to the founder,” he lied.
“I’m one of the instructors there. I’d be happy to escort you
up.”

A little breathless, she drew her hand back.
It was definitely not a good idea to spend too much time in this
guy’s company. She was sure to trip over her tongue and embarrass
herself. “Er, as I said, they’re sending someone, but thank
you.”

A devilish light still twinkled in his eyes
when he looked at her. “I’ll keep an eye on you until he gets
here.”

A little wary, she stared at him. “Will
you?”

He blinked at her slowly, like a cat.

There was something about that look. More
than a little unsettled by the evening’s events, she turned her
back on him, moved to the bar and studied the billboard menu. No
way she could order a steak. She had just enough money to pay for a
glass of water. Maybe.

Dagon claimed the stool next to her. “Order
whatever you like,” he said. “My treat.”

“I really shouldn’t,“ she started to protest,
chagrined. She’d have felt even worse if he’d known just how little
money she had. It had been one reason she’d leapt at the chance the
academy offered. She’d worked hard in collage, held two jobs so she
wouldn’t have a loan to repay. Until the day she’d collapsed at her
night job with a bad case of pneumonia and exhaustion, she’d been
doing fine. Unfortunately, that incident had seriously drained her
reserves, both of time and health. She’d been about two days from
being evicted when the academy had accepted her.

When she hesitated, he flashed the waitress a
smile and said, “Hi. She’d like the steak, potato and slaw, please.
The same for me.” He tossed some bills on the counter.

“Anything for you, sugar,” the waitress said,
giving him the once-over. Her hips wiggled as she walked away.

Vana rolled her eyes at the waitress’s
antics, but said, “Thank you,” to Dagon. Accepting his generosity
made her feel shy, so she lowered her eyes, traced the grain in bar
to avoid his gaze.

Dagon knew every detail of her recent
history, for they’d researched the “applicants” carefully. He could
guess what emotions kept her eyes nailed to the bar. It displeased
him that a woman could be left alone to fend for herself the way
she had been. With no family or friends who would help, she’d been
forced to care for herself since the death of her mother at
seventeen. The father had left a long time before that.

The knowledge burned him. She—and the others
like her—would be much better off with the men of his world.

He finished eating first and left to speak to
the barkeeper about a room. He was frowning when he returned.
“They’ve only got one, and the hotel is full up. I checked.”

Vana narrowed her eyes at him.

The waitress perked up. “If that’s a problem
I know of a free bed.” She looked straight at Dagon as she purred
it, completely ignoring Vana. If she’d bent over the bar any
farther, she might have fallen out of her low-cut shirt. Her red
nails traced a lazy, suggestive circle on the bar.

“I don’t mind,” Vana said sardonically. No
one was listening to her.

A single, hard glance from Dagon sent the
woman scurrying off. “I’ll sleep outside the door,” he said to
Vana. His look brooked no argument.

At once she felt guilty, but not guilty
enough to take a chance on letting him in her room—that was, if she
had been about to accept one. Unfortunately…. “I can’t afford a
room tonight. I’d expected to be at the Academy already.”

“The bar closes at one am,” he said with
implacable logic. “Nothing else is open tonight, which would leave
you wandering around in the cold until dawn. Do you really think
I’m going to allow you to do that?”

She’d been too tired to consider those
obstacles, ought to have been grateful for his thoughtfulness.
Instead he got a grumpy nod of acknowledgement. Too weary to ponder
it further, she said, “Fine,” and followed him up the rickety
stairs.

The room wasn’t much to see. It had a bed,
tiny bathroom and a battered dresser. One streaked window looked
out at the motel sign. Vana eyed the full size bed and the floor
doubtfully. There was barely room to swing the door open. If she
had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night she’d step on
him. It was just as well he was sleeping outside.

The waitress cleared her throat and handed a
bundle of worn quilts and a lumpy pillow to Dagon. She left without
making eye contact.

“You made a friend,” Vana observed as she
tossed her pack on the bed.

He shrugged. “I’m not likely to desire a
woman that…blatant. I prefer a woman who beds only one man—me.” He
tossed the blankets on the floor, making a makeshift mattress.