Rock Star Romance: Dan (Contemporary New Adult Rockstar Bad Boy Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 4) (63 page)

“They will,” Jenna said through gritted teeth.
“They will if I have to make them.”

Leo pressed a hand to her shoulder and squeezed
it. “I was hoping you would say that.”

Jenna looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a small faction of humans and a large
percentage of Yazulians who want to push to bring back the original treaty,”
Leo said, and his eyes glinted with excitement. “We want to be equal in every
way. We don’t object to humans expanding—just doing it
this
way. There’s
plenty of space for both of us, and we can share it all.”

“That didn’t work the first time,” Jenna said
anxiously. “Why would it work this time?”

“This time we have more voices and more
visibility,” Leo answered. “We already share space with you on Luna. If humans
and
Yazulians push for this on peaceful ground, we can start building the right
path. I know it.”

Jenna was silent. She studied Leo’s face, moved by
the passion in his words and the fierce determination in his eyes. Only days
ago she’d hated him—and wouldn’t have objected to killing him, in fact—and now
she was sitting with her leg pressed against his, even holding his hand again
without even noticing. Leo was smiling without a trace of fear or
apprehension—how could he be so confident? It reminded her of Victor, who was
always trying to protect everyone around him by never showing his fear. But Leo
didn’t think she needed protection; he didn’t seem to find her weak at all.

Jenna nodded. “Okay. I’ll help.”

****

Three months later, Luna looked like a different
place. The war wasn’t over, but Yazulians were officially acknowledged as
Earth’s partners in the insurgency against the remaining rebel forces. More
than half of the forces were back at their home planets, and it was all thanks
to Leo’s faction of determined Yazulians, and Jenna’s leadership of the humans.
Now that so many barracks weren’t needed, the space was being transitioned into
a joint city—the very first of its kind.

Jenna herself had spoken at the meeting in favor
of it being built, and she was astounded at how fast everything was moving.
Gray Men were everywhere during the transition, but fights were uncommon after
the first week, and the atmosphere relaxed. Jenna noticed some of the Gray Men
seemed to glow softly through their clothing; when she asked Leo about it, he
explained that Yazulian’s weren’t allowed to be Gray Men before, due to their
status as war criminals.

“What?” Jenna was dumbfounded, but she kept
reminded herself that there was still much she didn’t know. Every day she
learned something new; more Yazulian words, cuisine customs on their home
planet, even variations of the diverse music they had throughout their
cultures. She sampled desserts and stews, meat pies and rubbery plants that
were bitter or sweet depending on how you cooked them.  Her favorite thing to
learn had been Leo’s Second Name:
Lilliya,
a name than indicated his
homeland stretched next to shimmering waters, a green land pressing against the
sky to hold back the sun.

Jenna had laughed, and when she told him the
definition of
Horizon,
he laughed, too.

The biggest thing she learned was how quickly she
could fall in love, and how different it should be from what she’d felt before.
It was painless and wild, but still deep and passionate and everything she’d
ever wanted from another person. That this person happened to be a Yazulian was
no longer a concern for her; as her duties changed and she and Leo grew more in
love, her only concern began to be how much longer she could keep dreaming
before she had to wake up.

The Yazulian barracks were being repainted to
resemble their homeworld structures, all done in metallic shades of every color
imaginable: gleaming white, shimmering apple green, slick cherry red, polished
gold, and even a glistening onyx that Jenna was particularly fond of. Some of
the humans were following suit, and some were shipping back to Earth—but, most
surprisingly, many humans were moving into the new Yazulian barracks in order
to make new homes with their lovers.

“I had no idea we had this many inter-species
relationships!” Jenna told Leo excitedly one day. Her brigade had been
transitioned to ground duty, so she was one of the humans who moved in with
their partner. They’d gotten a larger bed and better furniture, and the space
looked cozy and warm, even with its cool stone walls. “Did you?”

Leo smiled and averted his eyes. “Well…”

Jenna gasped. “You did! How did this never come up
before?”

He shrugged sheepishly and slid one arm around her
waist, stealing one of the berries from her sundae. “I guess none of the
Yazulians or humans were comfortable with you knowing. I’ve known other
Yazulians who dated humans. It’s secret, but not unheard of.” He noticed her
expression and started to back-peddle. “But, uh…I’m sure lots of people didn’t
know. I’m sure that—”

“Leo, it’s fine,” Jenna said, and she smiled to
show him she meant it. “I’m just glad I know now. I spent a long time letting
myself be this…hateful person who didn’t believe they were worthy of love. But
that changed when I met you.” Tears threatened to spill over her lashes, but
for once, they were happy ones. “I’m a new person now, with an opportunity to
create this brand new history. You made that happen.”

“Only because you made
that
happen,” Leo
said, gesturing outside.

“We did that together,” Jenna insisted, snuggling
against him.

She heard the smile in his voice as he spoke.
“Yeah, we did,” he said bashfully. “I guess we make a pretty good team.”

THE END

Lenth stepped into
the nearly deserted bar, looking around constantly. His gaze flicked from one
human to another, sizing up prospects and trying to understand the complex
behavior going on around him; he saw a few females—but most of them appeared to
be working, walking briskly from one table to another or standing behind the
long, ancient-looking bar itself.

Lenth’s gaze settled
on a figure unlike the rest of the patrons; the man was sitting at a booth,
glancing around just as interestedly as Lenth had been. Anyone looking at Lenth
and the other man—who had arrived fifteen minutes prior—would have assumed that
they were brothers, or at the very least cousins; they shared the same skin
tone: a shade somewhere between brown and gray—an unusual color, though not
entirely out of the realm of human possibility—and a similar build: lean,
muscular, and almost too tall to quite be believed. Where Lenth had
close-cropped, thick brown hair, the other man’s was a few inches longer, unnatural-looking
silver. Both men also had unearthly-looking blue-green eyes.

Lenth strode through
the quiet bar towards the booth, his lips curling in a smile at the sight of
his fellow scientist. “Bronn,” he said, sitting down across from the other man.
“I apologize for my tardiness.” Bronn mimicked his smile, glancing around the
room once more.

“I’m just glad you’re
here,” Bronn responded. He shifted into their native language. “Our superiors
are beginning to become anxious.” Lenth nodded.

“I think your idea is
a good one,” Lenth said. They had spoken previously about their mutual
troubles; neither of them had had any success in the goal of their mission, the
goal that all of the scientists on their mission had.

“It would be better
than being sent back to Khatanar,” Bronn agreed. Lenth smiled, shaking his
head. The planet they came from—called Tau Ceti e by the humans—was far enough
away that neither scientist was in a hurry to return alone.

“They wouldn’t send
us back, they’d just make our lives miserable.”

“They’d send us back
if we went much longer without any progress,” Bronn countered. “I have no
interest in being crammed into a capsule and sent back.”

“How are we going to
approach this?” Lenth asked.

“I’ve studied human
reproduction extensively,” Bronn said, lifting the mug of what Lenth’s own
extensive research told him was beer to his lips and taking a long sip. “I have
seen several references to human sexuality that seem to suggest that in certain
situations, humans mate in groups of three instead of pairs.”

“I have seen a few of
these references,” Lenth agreed. On the months that the voyage to this planet
had taken, all of the scientists had reviewed as much as they could, studying
the facets of human sexuality. “But it seems to be the exception rather than
the rule. Do you believe it’s a fertility issue?”

“None of the other
reports suggest that it is.” Bronn sat back on the bench, sighing. “I
believe—from what I have studied—that recreational mating is a common feature
for this species.” Lenth considered it; certainly the wealth of information
available publicly about reproduction, including videos, stories, pictures, and
guides, implied that the human species did not simply mate for the purposes of
reproduction. Early reports from other, more successful Khateen
scientists—other members of their crew, colleagues who had already selected and
recruited subjects for experimentation—suggested the same.

“This—pornography
that they have,” Lenth said slowly. “It’s difficult to decipher how much of it
is for the purposes of education and how much of it is entertainment.”

“They are in some
ways like children,” Bronn said, taking another sip of his beer. “This isn’t
bad; when the waitress arrives, you should order it.” Bronn set the heavy glass
mug down and continued his thought. “It’s as though their mating is not simply
for the purposes of either bonding or reproduction, but a recreational activity
in its own right.” Among the Khateen, mating only served two functions; part of
the challenge that faced the researchers sent to the planet known as Earth was
that mating seemed to be a much more complicated issue.

“We know much more
now than we did when this mission started,” Lenth pointed out. “It seems
strange though that something that can result in conception could be used
purely as a form of entertainment. I understand that many human women don’t
desire this outcome.”

“The planet is fairly
well-populated,” Bronn pointed out. “And we both know that the orgasm response
in humans can be addictive.”

“But an entire planet
of addicts? It should be choked with humans—they should have already destroyed
themselves.”

“They have ways of
preventing conception, as Hikar discovered.” Hikar, another one of their
colleagues, had recruited his human female subject the week before; he had
reported to the group about the existence of various methods that humans used
to avoid reproduction.

“All I know,” Lenth
said, shaking his head in frustration, “is that if we don’t find a subject to
experiment on, we’ll be in trouble.”

Their conversation
was interrupted by the arrival of a human woman; she was short, even by human
standards, with brilliant purple-colored hair cut short around a sharp-featured
face. Dressed in a pair of shorts that revealed the indelible ink markings
Lenth knew were called tattoos—designs that looked similar to human artwork in
a floral motif—and a tight, black shirt, she looked to Lenth’s gaze like the
human mythological creature called a pixie.

“Can I get you
something?” she said, and Lenth felt a shiver cascade through his nervous
system at the pleasing, soft sound of her voice. The woman’s large, dark eyes
took him in.

“I’ll have what my
friend is having,” Lenth told her, gesturing to the beer. The woman smiled,
nodding quickly.

“Coming right up!”
she scribbled something on the pad of paper and moved away from the table, and
Lenth watched her move towards the bar.

“What do you think?”
Bronn asked. Lenth smiled slowly.

“I think we should
approach her,” Lenth replied. “She’s an excellent candidate.”

Bronn watched the
woman that he and Lenth had identified as a potential recruit for their
now-combined study, tracking her around the room as she went about her work.
“Why do you think she’s an excellent candidate?” Bronn asked his colleague,
turning his attention back onto Lenth.

“She’s obviously
fertile,” Lenth said, his glance moving to watch her as well. “I find her
interesting.”

“Interesting?” Bronn
asked doubtfully. He had had no success in finding a recruit to study; as yet
he had never found a human woman to be specifically interesting. He had found
them intriguing as study participants—but his opinion about human intelligence
was fairly dim.

“Did you hear her
voice?” Lenth asked him.

Bronn raised his
shoulders in an approximation of a shrug. “She has a very nice voice; how does
that make her interesting?”

“She has
that—tattooing,” Lenth pointed out, still speaking in their native language.

“Many human women
have that,” Bronn pointed out. When the human woman approached the table once
more, Bronn looked at her artwork in more detail. The shorts the woman was
wearing made it easy to view the whorls and swirls of ink forming flowers on
her upper thighs.

“Here you are: one
mug of Samuel Adams,” the woman said, smiling. Listening to her voice, Bronn
had to admit to himself that it was beautiful. The woman hesitated; instead of
turning away quickly, the way she had before, she lingered, looking from Bronn
to Lenth. “Do you mind if I ask where you gentlemen come from?” she asked
quickly. “Jeez! I apologize if that’s offensive.”

“We’re from far
away,” Lenth said, falling back on the explanation that the other Khateen had
used—the explanation that both Lenth and Bronn had used in speaking with women
previously. Lenth glanced at Bronn, giving him a significant look.

“May I ask your
name?” Bronn asked, falling into the English language with slight difficulty.
Even after weeks of speaking the language, it still felt stilted and strange to
him.

“Giselle,” the woman
said, her lips curving in a smile. In that moment, Bronn’s confusion at Lenth’s
choice—his decision to attempt to recruit the woman—evaporated. Bronn had seen
a dozen women smile; but there was something about the way Giselle’s dark eyes
lit up when her lips curved that sent a jolt through him.

“Let us know when
you’re on your break, Giselle, and we can tell you all about where we come
from,” Lenth suggested.

“I’m actually off in
twenty minutes,” she said, glancing at them both. “I wasn’t planning to hang
around, but your language sounds very interesting; I study cultures, I’d love
to hear more.”

Bronn nodded, smiling
at the woman. “We’ll be happy to share everything you want to hear about our
culture,” Bronn told her. “Let me pay for my friend so that we don’t hold you
up.” He offered one of the strange pieces of paper that humans used as
currency; Giselle glanced at it and then smiled again, extending it towards
him.

“Actually, this one’s
on me; I’ll get you a refill as well. I didn’t catch your names.” She frowned
slightly, and there was something about the expression that intrigued Bronn
even more than her smile.

“I’m called Bronn,”
he said, before gesturing to his colleague. “My friend is Lenth.” Giselle
smiled again.

“Well, Bronn and
Lenth, I’ll be right back.”

Bronn glanced at his
colleague as Giselle walked briskly away. “She is fertile, and she seems
interested.” Lenth’s lips tugged upward at the corners in a human-like smile.

“I believe she’s at
the phase of reproductive viability—the part of her monthly cycle called
ovulation.” Bronn considered it, thinking of the woman’s body language, the way
she had looked at both of them, her dark eyes flashing. He nodded.

“How much do we tell
her?” he asked his fellow researcher, glancing the way that Giselle had come.
The slight sway in her hips as she walked towards the bar suggested to him that
Giselle was almost certainly fertile at the moment—not just in the general
sense, but imminently so.

“As little as
possible,” Lenth suggested. “At least until we can get her to a private
location.”

“Should we convince her
to consume alcohol while we talk?” Bronn asked; the Khateen metabolism was
unaffected by alcohol—they could consume endless quantities without becoming
intoxicated. Other researchers had discovered that drinking alcohol with their
subjects loosened the subjects’ inhibitions—though there were ethical
considerations in consent taken from a woman who was intoxicated.

“Yes,” Lenth said,
nodding slowly. “But we should allow her to become sober before any
experimentation takes place.”

“Particularly in
light of the fact that we will both be experimenting on her,” Bronn agreed.
“Yes, that would make sense. We want to be careful not to injure her.” Others
of their race had run into problems; even though care had been taken, human
women were smaller than Khateen women, particularly their sex organs. More than
one researcher had discovered that this could present problems in experiments.
Though the Khateen had ample technology for dealing with such injuries, the
incidents made the human recruits more reticent, and the empathic response that
formed part of the Khateen personality made it difficult to remain objective,
knowing that the subject was in pain, even for a short period of time.

“We’ll be very
careful; she seems smaller than many of the human women I have encountered—she’s
probably smaller everywhere.” Bronn nodded.

“She’ll be sober, and
we’ll make sure that she’s fully apprised of the risks and the benefits before
we persuade her to participate.” Lenth laughed the Khateen way, startling one
of the nearby human patrons.

“We haven’t been able
to persuade any human women on our own,” Lenth pointed out. “It will only be
more difficult for us to persuade one together.”

“I don’t believe so,”
Bronn said to his colleague as Giselle approached their table once more, armed
with another mug of beer.