Legend Beyond The Stars (24 page)

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Authors: S.E. Gilchrist

BOOK: Legend Beyond The Stars
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“So, no answers, eh, Tarak? No mind. You are not the only one with ideas. You will honour the agreement I have made. As a Darkon warlord and my son, you have no choice. The slave will have to go.”

“I will honour the agreement, should there prove to be no other way,” Tarak answered choosing his words with care, ignoring the reference to Alana.

“Bah! What way is there?” Rajan roared suddenly and waved a tight fist in the air. “You try my patience with your cautious speech. Now leave me. All of you. I need to be alone.”

Tarak thumped his chest in salute, spun on his booted heel and marched out of the chamber. His thoughts pounded so furiously through his head he had traversed several corridors before he realised Lord Barid hurried at his side.

He slowed his pace for the older man and asked, curiosity rife in his voice, “You have something to say, Barid?”

”Yes, but not here.”

“My chambers then.”

Lord Barid nodded in acquiescence. “Will the female be there?”

Tarak narrowed his eyes. “Yes. Why do you wish to know?”

“I would like to speak with her again,” Barid said simply and spread his hands wide. “If what you say is true, then this could be our salvation. These females could hold our very future in their blood.”

“I do not see how this could be so. Other vastly superior species have been researched and none has proven capable of sustaining the Darkon life.” Tarak paused, his memories of his last visit to the research camp causing his blood to ice in his veins. He turned a look of such ferocity at Barid, the older man recoiled.

Tarak snarled, “No. I forbid it. We will enjoy this gift of pleasure we have been given. This is my royal command.”

Lord Barid cast the younger man a thoughtful look, nodded glumly. He sighed. “Perhaps you are right. There has been enough death and bloodshed at our hands. Our hopes have been denied far too many times and these females are a very different race. It would be a useless exercise.”

They halted outside the heavy metal door leading to Tarak’s private chambers. He waved the older man inside.

Tarak scowled when he entered, his gaze instantly seeking his objective. His Alana had been busy in his absence. She was surrounded by her group of close friends. He glared at the
warriors who lounged on his couches, rolling his eyes starward at the glances of mingled longing and amused tolerance they directed at the females. The soldiers sprang to their feet at his entrance. He noted the females who sat cross legged on the rugged floor, barely spared him a glance. The Jurian male who never seemed to be too far from his Alana’s side, was also present and engaged in a lively conversation with the very young female with the yellow-white hair. The two had their heads close together and appeared to be debating some matter with great seriousness.

Beside him, Lord Barid’s jaw dropped open at such temerity then Tarak forgot about him. How long it would be before he could have Alana to himself? Although perhaps he should be more concerned about what they were plotting. His fingers tapped a quick beat against his thigh, he had such little time left and did not want to spend it foiling any more of Alana’s escapades.

From across the room his Alana raised her head and sent him a cheerful grin. She waggled her fingers in greeting. With difficulty, Tarak suppressed the strong urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her off to his sleeping chamber. It appeared his time for pleasure would have to wait.

He strode forward, ignoring his men, his eyes fixed with purpose on his female’s glowing face, absorbing the sparkle of delight in her pretty blue-green eyes, the flush of sudden colour pinkening her cheekbones. He watched her stand gracefully, the lifting of her breasts as her breathing quickened, her eagerness in leaving her companions and hastening to his side, and his heart expanded with something he recognised as bittersweet joy.

She laid a hand on his arm, searched his face. He registered the anxiety which now clouded the sparkle in her eyes. Her fingers clutched him tighter, smiling with such warmth and reassurance, he wondered anew how he had existed so long without her presence.

Had she discerned his inner confusion?
He was barely aware of Lord Barid ever watchful at his side, as his hand closed over hers and brought it to lie against his armoured chest.

“I should leave.”

Barid’s voice brought Tarak back to his surrounds.

“You may as well stay as it seems everyone else is here,” Tarak said wryly. His eyebrows rose in interrogation at Alana. “Well, my Alana? What are you up to, this time?”

Amused, he watched how her eyes darkened with indignation.

“I am not going to argue with you—”

Tarak interrupted, “You amaze me.”

Alana yanked her hand out from under his and Tarak experienced an immediate sense of loss. His female tilted her chin and took a deep breath, before saying, “We have been discussing our situation.”

“We?” Tarak eyed his men who avoided his gaze and tried to look innocent.

“Not them.” Alana waved a hand in dismissal.

Tarak grinned at the chagrin on his men’s faces.

”Us, of course.” She indicated her circle of silent friends who regarded him with varying degrees of caution. “If, and I say if because it is by no means certain we will be staying here indefinitely. In the event we may be here some time, we believe it will be best for our mental health if we achieved a balanced compromise with our way of life and yours.”

Barid at his side, gasped. Tarak ignored him and his female’s provocative comment regarding the length of their stay and pondered her words. That they were directly in line with his thoughts was something he no longer wondered at. Keeping these females busy working on maintaining as much normality for themselves as possible would not only keep them out of trouble but give them a goal to work towards.

Still, it would not do, to agree too quickly with his slave. But if he did agree, he would be rid of this unwanted crowd a lot sooner. Then he and Alana would be alone. He stroked his chin while some very pleasant thoughts drifted through his mind. Alana shifted her weight from one booted foot to the other.

“What are your thoughts?” Tarak turned towards his warriors. He sighed as they remained silent. “Well, Casis? Wray? The rest of you, surely you have an opinion?”

Wray cleared his throat and smiled in a fatuous way at Jessamine, who fluttered her lashes in return. “If it makes our female happy, I do not see the harm.”

Tarak repressed a grin. It was obvious his warriors were no longer capable of thinking with their brains. He could not blame them after so many bleak years. Years spent in battle and war, watching comrades fall and their families waste away. His mouth tightened.

Let them have their last moments of pleasure. Let them give what they can to these females. It was little enough
.

”Agreed,” he said curtly. “Do as you will, Alana. As long as it will not cause us anger or distress, you may organise your life here as you wish.”

“Do you think this is wise, Tarak?” Barid murmured. “Your father …”

“My father, what?” Tarak swung round to fix a gimlet stare on the older man. “I will not repeat myself again, Barid. These females are under my protection. My orders for all to do with them, are law.”

“This is most unusual. But your word will be obeyed,” said Barid, his face turning a greyish hue.

Tarak looked from one to the other absorbing the way his Alana stood as straight as any soldier, her jaw firm with determination, her life energy strong and vibrant. She wore her aura of command with ease, her gaze steady and direct. In sharp contrast, Barid shuffled his feet, eyes wide, his brow furrowed as if both uneasy and unsure where this female fitted into the Darkon’s rigid conventions.

Within a few sectons of Barid leaving this room, Tarak knew his father would be listening to the older man’s report and wondering over how much influence these females exerted over his warriors, over himself. No matter, for what the future held for him, he would ensure his Alana and the other females would be safe.

Barid muttered a formal farewell and crossed to the door, where he paused and looked back at Alana once more before finally departing.

“Who exactly is he, Tarak?” Alana asked after the door closed.

”He is a member of the Darkon High Council, an advisor and, I hope, my ally.” Tarak smiled sadly. “Lord Barid was also the father of someone I called a friend a long time ago.”

He rolled his shoulders to shrug off the memories, took Alana’s hand in his and wandered over to the group of women. “Perhaps you will explain your plans to me. I will need to ascertain who will best be able to assist you once we are gone.”

Immediately Alana pounced on his words. He clenched his jaw at his carelessness. It had not been his intention to broach this subject until the time to leave was upon him.

“Gone? Gone where? And when?”

Tarak waved a casual hand. “A small mission. You do not need to know the details.”

“Now that’s where you are so wrong!” Alana narrowed her eyes at him. “If this concerns us, then we have the right to know what is going on.”

“It may come as a surprise to you but not everything in this universe concerns you,” Tarak snapped in defence. The other women now glared at him with suspicion and his men glared at him in reproach.

By the hem of Cercis’ cloak, this was too much. Was he not the one in charge here?

He dropped Alana’s hand, crossed his arms across his chest and chin jutting, he glowered back at her.

“That is not what I meant!” Colour bloomed over her cheeks.

With interest he watched her take a deep breath which lifted her pert breasts in a way that sent a shaft of need wrenching through his groin.

She peered up at him through fluttering lashes. “Naturally as our only protectors we would be concerned to be left alone in an alien environment.”

Tarak laughed uproariously, ignored how everyone gaped at him. His former irritation vanished. He grinned good humouredly at Alana. Tapping her tilted chin, he teased, “Aaaah, so you admit your need of us.”

“Only in so far as we might need a certain amount of security until we find our feet. It has nothing to do with you personally,” Alana ground out in a gruff voice. She flicked a piece of lint off her sleeve with studied nonchalance.

He cast a puzzled glance at Alana’s boots then dismissed this comment as irrelevant. He sighed and thumped his chest dramatically. “You wound me deeply.”

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “I doubt it. No seriously, Tarak, you do see we need to be kept advised of the situation? None of us feel comfortable here.”

His amusement fled and he frowned. “Your quarters will be comfortable. You will be free to do and go where you wish within the confines of the city. I have decreed this to be so.”

“We realise this but what we are talking about is a sixth sense of danger. A feeling which tells us all is not well.” She placed her hand on his arm and searched his face.

“You need not fear anything here, my Alana. I have given you my word,” he said simply, his gaze upon her firm and steady.

Alana swallowed the lump in her throat engendered by his earnest expression. She pushed her doubts to the back of her mind. It was obvious the Tarak believed his orders would be upheld but she had not survived several battles by ignoring her sixth sense. There were definite undercurrents here. She swore she could smell the stink of treachery leeching from the cold, stone walls.

She would keep her eyes and ears open, ensure the other women did the same, while maintaining an appearance of compliance. It was possible the long war and the heavy toll on the survivors was the only thing responsible for the niggling feeling at the back of her neck.

It was also possible there was something else going on here. Tarak and his men leaving on a mission would be the perfect opportunity to do some investigations. It would also keep her mind off one small problem caused by his absence.

I will miss him
.

Damnit
.

Alana glared at his back as he strode over to his First Officer, who had entered the room and after casting the women a quick glance, stood ramrod straight waiting near the entrance for his Commander’s attention. She twitched her shoulders to relieve some of her tension and was glad when Elise called out to her. Soon she had the women organised with specific tasks. They were certainly enthusiastic enough and keen to establish some form of normality into their lives. Even for the short term.

The women, chatting with animated high voices, left the room. Alana gazed with affection after them. The warriors rose as if in one body and hurried after them. Surprised, she noticed how Magar’s gaze followed the women and frowned. Had one of the women
captured his attention? He had shown no interest in any of them previously keeping his dealings with them to a strict minimum. She hoped he was not attracted to one who had already been claimed.

Aaaah!
Alana rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at the far wall. Here she was already thinking about
‘claiming’
as if it was acceptable behaviour. She was a free citizen of Earth and would not be sucked into alien beliefs. Too bad if their chief proponent was a man who rocked her world, she would maintain her independence if it was the last thing she did.

Across the room she met Tarak’s dark eyes and sighed, her heart doing a quick loop-de-loop at the urgent message in them.
Yes, oh yes!
Her nipples hardened and puckered beneath her flight suit. They ached for his touch. She watched him conclude his conversation with Magar and after nodding in farewell, stroll to her side. At the touch of his fingers as they slid with gentle tenderness along the side of her face and over her hair to rest at the nape of her neck, she tilted her face. She rose on tiptoe to brush her mouth against his lips, all thoughts of Tarak’s second-in-command forgotten.

It was only later her curiosity returned, as she wriggled closer to Tarak’s warm body and his arm, hard and strong tightened around her waist with reassuring strength. Contentment washed over her like the warm waves of the Pacific Ocean lapping the soft sands of Airlie Beach. She kissed the expanse of skin so handily available. Her fingers tripped over Tarak’s taut muscles which rippled in response to her touch. He stirred and turned to her, his face nuzzling the crook of her neck and his lips lazily trailed a tingle of sensation over her shoulders. Eyes still closed, she quivered and smiled. “Tarak?”

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