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Alien Conquest Page 3


  “M’lee R’gers, sir.” T’renan said hesitantly.

  “Wake up, M’lee.” He stroked a finger down the gentle curve of her cheek, delighted by the silky texture. Finally responding to his touch, she sighed slightly and nestled closer. Satisfaction filled him.

  “That’s right. Now open your eyes.”

  Her eyelids fluttered up revealing shockingly pale human eyes, but he felt no disgust, only relief that she was awake—until she gasped and started thrashing against him. Frowning, he gripped her more firmly while still taking care not to harm her delicate human skin.

  “Be still. You will hurt yourself.”

  Water began to leak from those pale eyes. He found it unexpectedly distressing.

  “Please. Let me go. I didn’t mean for it to happen but it’s too late now.”

  Shocked, he released her arms and she immediately scuttled to the other end of the furniture. Her eyes traveled to the other two males in the room and more water appeared. Every instinct urged him to pull her close and soothe her fears but getting to the root of the sabotage of the United Worlds building was a necessity. He was aware of his men exchanging glances. They had all assumed that this would be a routine visit. They were mainly here because she hadn’t been interviewed before. True, there had been some anomalies about this female. She had called in sick to work that day, but she had been well enough to leave New York within minutes of the explosion. Her domicile had been wrecked and she had obviously left in a hurry. Still, the idea that a small human female had been responsible for the explosion was laughable. Perhaps she had misunderstood.

  “Do you know why we are here?”

  “Yes.” Her voice trembled but she sat up straighter and squared her small shoulders. He approved of her bravery even as his concern that she was involved deepened.

  “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  “Tell you what happened?” Her cheeks turned an intriguing shade of pink and he had to resist the impulse to explore the warm color. “I most certainly will not.”

  He would not tolerate this type of disobedience. Reluctantly, he hardened his voice. “You must.”

  M’lee glared at him for a moment. Under other circumstances, it would have been adorable. He stared back and her gaze dropped, her shoulders slumping.

  “I can’t tell you anyway. I really don’t remember what happened.”

  “You don’t remember?” T’chok interjected, his voice dripping with disdain.

  T’lan turned to glare at him and he paled and went quiet. Hearts pounding, he focused again on the small human. The saboteur had to found and publicly punished. The thought of that soft fragile body tortured in such a way caused his stomach to churn. No. There had to be an explanation. Perhaps she had been tricked.

  “Did you know what would happen?”

  “Maybe?” Her fingers twisted together. Growls emerged from his men, but he kept his gaze focused on her. “I hadn’t really thought about the consequences because I didn’t think it would ever happen. I suppose I must have realized it was theoretically possible. But it was an accident!”

  “How do you accidentally blow up a building?” He kept his voice level, but it was a struggle. Despite her feeble attempts to evade guilt, every word condemned her. There must be others involved. He would find out the truth and send his men after the others. While they were occupied, he would take her to his personal ship and send her away. He would remain and take her punishment. He was so busy trying to decide on a location that would be safe enough for her that he almost missed the expression of shock on her face.

  “Blow up a building? Do you mean the United Worlds building?” Her shock seemed genuine, immediately followed by anger. “Are you insane? I wasn’t even there.”

  Relief filled him at her denial, even though he had to continue questioning her.

  “That is why we are here. We are investigating every person who should have been present but was not.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” she agreed reluctantly. “But surely you don’t think I had anything to do with it? My friends were in there. Sam was in there! They were all killed.”

  “Sam?” The way she said the name aroused his suspicions. Was this Sam a male for whom she had cared?

  Her eyes skittered away from his. “My, uh, my co-worker. And my friend.”

  Before he could pursue the subject of this friend, T’chok cleared his throat and he reluctantly let the subject drop. He would complete his investigation first. And then he would get his answers.

  “Why were you not at work that day?”

  “I was ill.” Her eyes were still averted, and he had to fight the impulse to pull her closer and demand that she look at him. Forcing himself to be patient, he took a deep breath and listened to his instincts.

  “You are lying.”

  “I’m not.” Startled, she looked up briefly. “I really didn’t feel well.”

  “But you were not ill.”

  “No.” A deep breath. “I was hung-over.”

  “Hung over what?” He didn’t recognize the words.

  “I’d had too much to drink.” At his uncomprehending look, she sighed. “Too much alcohol. At least, I think it was alcohol.”

  “You do not know?”

  “It wasn’t anything I have ever had before. He said it was from Yehr.”

  “From Yehr? What did it look like?”

  “An orange liquid, in a small crystal bottle.”

  “Yeisati? Someone gave you Yeisati?” Yeisati was a rare and expensive drink produced in limited quantities. Because it had such an intoxicating effect, very little had been brought to Earth and he knew it wasn’t part of their nutrition trials. Someone had given this small female a drink that had never been tested on humans? The battle haze began to descend but he forced it under control.

  “Yes? I think that’s what he called it.”

  “Who gave it to you? Was it this Sam?” His lip curled at the name. How did a human male acquire Yeisati?

  “Yes,” she said reluctantly.

  “Where did he get it?” From a restricted alcohol to restricted explosives was a big leap, but if a human had the resources to acquire one, perhaps he had the resources to acquire the other.

  “I don’t know. He brought it with him. We were celebrating the end of our project. What difference does it make?” A small frown creased her brow and he wanted to smooth it away.

  “If it truly was Yeisati, it is forbidden for humans to possess. At least in part because it has not been tested on humans.”

  “Oh.” Fingers twisted together again, the frown deepening. “Um, Sam isn’t human. He is—was Yehrin. His actual name was S’ram.”

  Blood pounded through his veins so rapidly he could barely hear himself speak. She couldn’t have said what she did. But only one S’ram was listed among the victims. “S’ram V’randrr V’lesorn?”

  “Yes, I think that’s right. Do—did you know him?” she asked hopefully.

  “He was a member of my House.” Not only that, he had recommended him for this mission. S’ram was young but he had passed his examinations with honor and T’lan had had no hesitation in approving his request to be included in the diplomatic team. Now it appeared that S’ram had committed a serious infraction. If he had lived, he would have been severely punished. Unable to stand still, he got up and began pacing the small room. T’chok and T’renan backed out of his path, their eyes darting between him and his female.

  Once he calmed, he returned to the furniture. This time he sat close enough to M’lee to feel the warmth of her skin. She jumped a little but pleased him by not moving away. Forcing himself to focus, he resumed his questions.

  “Where did this occur?”

  “At my apartment.” He frowned, and she added hastily, “I told you, we were celebrating. We worked together at the United Worlds and we had just finished a big project. I brought the pizza and he brought the orange stuff.”

  “He went out in public, alone?” An even more
serious infraction. His head started to ache. What else had his young relative done?

  “Well, not exactly in public. I lived in the apartments provided for the United Worlds staff.”

  “The human staff.”

  “Yes. But he was totally discreet. And really, with a hat and a coat, he almost passed for human.” She swept her eyes over him, lingering on his horns, and he could almost hear the comment she hadn’t added. Unlike you.

  “It is forbidden.” There was no response to his stern pronouncement. “What else happened?”

  “Nothing.” Her gaze skittered away from him.

  “Lie.”

  She started to glare at his pronouncement but dropped her eyes when he returned her scrutiny. The submissive gesture enticed him, but he refused to let her get away without answering. After a long silent moment, she sighed.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. The last thing I remember was laughing and drinking.”

  It wasn’t exactly a lie. “There is more.”

  M’lee bit her lip and refused to look at him. An uneasy suspicion teased at his brain as he remembered her initial confession.

  “Why did you think we were here?”

  “I thought you knew,” she whispered.

  “Knew? Knew what?”

  She didn’t answer, but her hand crept to her stomach.

  “You are with child.” It wasn’t a question. That bastard had defiled his female. The battle rage descended. He retained enough control to know that he had to leave immediately before he reduced her domicile to a smoldering wreck. “Watch her,” he managed to order. “Do not let her out of your sight.”

  Then he was out the door, looking for something to destroy.

  Chapter Four

  As the giant warrior departed, some of the tension in the room dissipated. Emily remained curled in the corner of the couch, fighting a strange mixture of embarrassment and relief. Oddly enough, the part that bothered her the most was knowing that the commander knew about that night. She must seem foolish, or even worse, wanton. When she first regained consciousness, she had felt so safe, tucked against a massive, warm chest and surrounded by an appealing musky scent. But then she had seen those harsh features, so similar to those of the Supreme Commander, and terror had sent her flying. Yet some remnant of that initial feeling of safety must have persisted. By the time he sat next to her, she was more intrigued than terrified. His harsh features were unabashedly masculine, but not unpleasant. A small part of her wanted to just burrow into those strong arms and let him take care of everything.

  Perhaps it was because, despite her initial fear, he had not been unkind during the interview. Stern, but not threatening. She was convinced that he no longer believed she had anything to do with the explosion. He certainly seemed outraged by Sam’s behavior. Sighing, her thoughts turned to Sam. What had he been thinking? Had he known the Yeisati had not been tested on humans? He must have known it was not permitted. Thinking back over his kindness and his many sweet gestures, she refused to believe that he would have done anything intentionally to harm her. Tears started to pool again. She knew they were partially a result of the pregnancy hormones, but that made them no less frustrating.

  Her hand dropped to her stomach. Right now, the most important thing was to protect her child. Some of the original fear she had felt when she opened the door and saw them standing there returned. She still wasn’t sure why the commander had left so abruptly. She knew he was angry, but she didn’t know why. Her initial instinct assumed that it was on her behalf but now the doubts returned. What if he was angry about the child? What if he had left to make arrangements to take her away? Would they try and force her to abort her child? Or even worse, force her to give birth and then take it? The prospect terrified her.

  Desperately, she tried to come up with a plan. Maybe they weren’t that familiar with human houses. If she could get to the kitchen alone, she might be able to escape out the back door. If that didn’t work, at least she might have the opportunity to grab a knife. Having a weapon of some kind would make her feel better, even though she had little hope of fighting one warrior, let alone two.

  Wiping her eyes, she looked around. The two males the commander had left behind were still in the room. One had moved to the front arch in order to watch both the front window and the front door. The other one was standing in the passage leading to the kitchen and the back door. Neither one was looking at her, but she was sure they were completely aware of her. That assumption proved correct when she rose to her feet and both sets of eyes immediately moved to her.

  “Where are you going?” The question came from the one by the door. Apparently, he was in charge. His voice was harsher than the commander’s and his accent stronger. Yehrin features were so rigid, it was difficult to discern many differences between them, but a few threads of silver glinted in his short dark hair. He definitely carried an air of command, and she decided he was older than the other male.

  “Just to the kitchen to get a drink,” she replied as innocently as possible.

  “No.” The stern reply didn’t leave room for compromise, but she wasn’t giving up that easily.

  “Why not? I’m thirsty.” She thought his eyes flickered briefly to her stomach and she decided to test her suspicion. “It’s not good for the baby if I get dehydrated.”

  “The commander said to watch you.” He spoke just as firmly but this time she was sure he glanced at her stomach.

  “Did he say you had to watch me in this room?”

  The two males had a brief discussion in Yehrin but she couldn’t identify any of the words. Sam had tried to teach her the language, but they had eventually concluded that her throat just wasn’t capable of reproducing the harsh sounds. Her ability to understand was equally limited. She cast a hopeful glance at the other warrior. His skin was pale grey and he hesitated slightly when she caught his eye. Definitely younger.

  “Where is this kitchen?” the older one barked.

  Suppressing her triumph, she pointed to the back of the house. “Through there.”

  The male at the back of the room departed without a word. A few minutes later he reappeared and nodded to the first officer.

  “Very well.”

  Any faint hope she might have had of an unaccompanied trip was immediately put to rest. One male led the way, the other walked behind her. They both kept a respectful distance, but she had no doubt that they would stop her if she tried to make a break for it. Her grandmother’s kitchen was normally one of her favorite rooms in the house, but the familiar comfort of the white-washed cabinets and mellow wooden counters only emphasized the foreignness of the large warriors standing at each entrance. This time they kept their eyes on her and her chance of grabbing any type of weapon diminished even further.

  Sighing, she abandoned her admittedly futile plan. At least they had seemed concerned about the baby. Feeling somewhat reassured, she filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. At least she could have a cup of tea. She turned on the gas. The flame ignited and immediately one warrior pulled her gently but firmly away from the burner while the other placed himself between her and the stove. For a moment she was too shocked to react; she hadn’t even seen them move. Then anger took over.

  “What are you doing?” she yelled.

  The warrior behind her had already dropped her arms and moved back. The older warrior in front frowned down at her. “You will not put yourself or the child in danger.”

  “In danger? It’s just a stove. I use it every day.”

  “Open flames are dangerous. And primitive.”

  “Well, around here it’s how I heat up water and I need hot water for my tea.”

  They glared at each other for a long moment before his eyes dropped to her stomach. With an audible sigh, he partially relented.

  “I will heat water. You will sit.”

  He wanted to wait on her? Fine. With a sigh of her own, she moved to the battered kitchen table and took a seat. Her legs still trembled sligh
tly from the shock. They were certainly taking this watching thing seriously. A reluctant smile crossed her lips as she cupped her stomach. It might only be temporary, but she actually felt safe for the first time. The male who had been behind her resumed his position by the back door while the other male stood in front of the stove, warily watching the kettle. The ridiculousness of the whole situation overcame her, and she giggled.

  “You know a watched pot never boils, right?” His suspicious expression just made it worse and she started to laugh helplessly. She heard the slightly hysterical note underlying her giggles and knew it would be all too easy to give in to tears again, but she managed to keep it under control. Just as she stopped laughing, the kettle let out a whistle. A sword appeared from nowhere and the kettle died a not so glorious death. Boiling water put out the flame on the stove and splashed onto the warrior holding the sword. She watched in horror as it hit one of his uncovered arms and dripped on to the odd open-toed boots he wore.

  “Oh, no. How badly are you hurt?” Jumping out of her chair, she tried to go towards him but before she could move, she was once again pulled back. Glaring, she turned to the other warrior. “Now what?”

  “Floor. Wet. Slip.” The younger warrior dropped his hands but remained standing over her.

  “Fine, I’ll stand here. But you have to help him. That was boiling water!” She gestured to the older warrior but stopped when she saw him standing calmly in front of the stove.

  “You are worried about me?” he asked doubtfully.

  “Of course I am.”

  “It is nothing.” He held out his arm and her stomach rolled at the angry blisters marring the grey skin. Before she could insist that he get medical help, the blisters began to fade. Within seconds, all that was left were a few darkened patches.

  “That’s amazing. Doesn’t it hurt?”

  “Pain is nothing.”

  “It most certainly is not nothing. I have some burn salve in that drawer. Let me put it on your arm.”