Parallel Desire (13 page)

She wasn't sure why—maybe because of the growing closeness she felt with him now that Erica was almost here or maybe from some need to help him—but she took her fingers and deliberately touched the harshest scar that ran from his left shoulder all the way down to his hip. He flinched in reaction to her touch, but she didn't remove her hand.

"You never talk about how you got these." She skimmed her hand lower, moving across the firm musculature of his buttocks, stroking until she reached the banded scars on his upper thighs. "Or these."

If he hadn't been lying facedown on the pillow, she would have undoubtedly touched the faint scoring on his jaw and face as well.

He shifted his hips, propping his chin on both arms. "Love, it's an ugly story. Not something you should have to hear."

Her voice was gentle. "But I
want
to know everything about you. I don't want there to be secrets. There's still so much you've never told me about your life here on Earth, about the war, your family. I love you, Jareshk. I want to know all the things you've experienced." She pressed her lips to the longest scar on his back, then pulled away and stared down into his eyes. "Please tell me how you got them."

He rotated onto his side so she wouldn't be able to see the ridged flesh on his back. Just the thought of her gazing on such ugliness shamed him, made him feel dirty inside, dark. He clenched and unclenched his fists around the covers, remembering his captivity at Veckus's hands. Only when she pressed her hand over his own did he realize that he'd begun to rip the sheet in half.

"I know it's hard to talk about," she prompted softly, reaching to stroke his temple. "Maybe I'm selfish because I want to know."

"No. No, you're not wrong … I—I have never spoken of what was done to me. Only Scott knows … well, a bit of it, and it probably is time that I …" His mind flooded with twisted images, of his arms strung out overhead, the feel of the flaying whip against his back. If only the physical torture had been the worst of it.

"Time that you opened up about it?" she encouraged.

He swallowed, nodding as his head dropped heavily against the pillow. "When I was twenty-six, I was shot down over Idaho, the middle of nowhere. I had no choice but to eject from the craft …" His voice trailed off. Gods, he hated the thought of Kelsey learning what they'd done to him. To his body … and his soul.

Of course she didn't relent. "And you were captured?"

He nodded. "Veckus didn't care about intel or what he could learn. He only had a taste for vengeance. He wanted me to suffer … and I did."

Kelsey nodded, calmly stroking his hair, but he could sense how her heartbeat quickened. "How long did they have you?"

"Three days." He gulped at the air between them, his throat tightening spasmodically.

"They beat you?"

Again he nodded. "But that's not what caused the scarring. Those wounds healed up … eventually."

Kelsey stroked her hand across her pregnant belly, studying him intently. Not pushing too hard, not forcing him to continue. The safety of her love and goodness nearly overwhelmed him. "At the end, they trapped me in my D'Aravnian form," he admitted thickly. "And beat me with pulsar whips … over and over. My energized body doesn't scar, but the torture left marks on my physical one." He lifted a hand to his cheek, outlining the long mark along his jaw.

He didn't dare look at her, his pain and shame at what had been done to him was that intense. Besides, it would be impossible for her—a human—to comprehend the thin line between his dual selves. Nor could she fully grasp the ambivalent feelings he had about his twin halves—and how Veckus had played those insecurities to the hilt. No, nothing had ever made him feel more perverse for simply being what he
was
—an entity of pure energy—than the feel of those spiny, cracking whips burning across his surging power.

And Veckus had laughed. Over and over the perverted bastard had mocked him, holding him in his natural form until he began to lose touch with his physical body. Putting that whip to his glowing D'Aravnian self until Jared thought he'd lose his mind from the shocking, torturous agony. Until the smell had sickened him to the core of his undulating, swirling being. During those three days, his primal golden body had been like a dying sun, flayed raw beneath the hands of its captors.

"I—I almost couldn't change back. They kept me in my D'Aravnian form for so long that the connection between my two forms was almost destroyed." He cracked his eyes open, daring to see if she was frightened of him, disgusted by how "other" he truly was to her human self. After all these months together, he still wrestled to grasp her pure acceptance of what he was.

"Oh, Jareshk." She bent toward him, struggling a little awkwardly to reach him because of her large belly. She pressed gentle kisses against his brow, over and over, just murmuring his name. "I'm so sorry you had to live through that."

"You've no idea how badly it hurts, the way my energy reacts to those Antousian whips. It's worse than anything I've ever experienced in this body." He thumped at his chest. "I wanted to die. I prayed the gods would take my life."

"But you didn't die," she whispered, stroking his hair.

He cringed. "What sort of king wishes to leave his people because he's not strong enough to endure torture? What sort of leader? I am still ashamed at the memory of it."

Kelsey had known the scars were linked to some deep pain, but nothing could have prepared her for the hidden suffering Jared still carried with him. And that he blamed himself for having wanted to die? That was probably what tore her up the most. "Jared, you were in pain. You didn't know if your people would find you.… You can't feel bad that you prayed for an escape."

She watched as Jared's whole body jerked and flinched, almost as if it were remembering the physical punishments it had endured. "That weakness is still inside of me. …" he finally whispered, thrusting an arm across his face like he was hiding from her. She fought the urge to peel away that freaking arm so she could just stare into his beautiful black eyes and make him understand that he was blameless.

But healing took time, and she knew that. This was just a first step, a beginning of his opening up to her about the full nature of what he was.

And that was when it hit her, a total insight into something they'd been wrestling with throughout their relationship. "Is that why you're so uncomfortable with your D'Aravnian form?" she asked. "Why you're always so afraid of being near me in your natural state?"

A fervent growl came from his chest, but he kept his eyes hidden behind his forearm.

"Is that a yes?"

Another growl. "Stop … pressing …"

That was her answer. He worried that he'd hurt her, could destroy her—that much she understood. But there had always been a more complicated layer of discomfort that she'd never been able to find her way past. And here it was, at last brought out of darkness and into the pure light of their love for each other.

"Thank you, Jareshk," she whispered softly, bending low to kiss the top of his head. "I love you so much. Thank you for trusting me, for knowing I won't hurt you."

His arm dropped away, and he turned his black gaze on her. The fury and revulsion in his eyes shocked her. "I hate them for what they took from me, Kelse. I despise them for it. Don't you see? That's the ugliest part of it all. A part of my soul was stolen during that captivity.… They made me hate, made me less than what I was. They made me," he whispered meaningfully, "at least a little bit, like them."

"You're nothing like they are!" she cried, struggling to sit up in bed, but Jared had already launched himself onto the floor. He paced back and forth like he'd been caged; maybe because he was remembering his captivity. His naked body gleamed with sweat, and he rolled his shoulders, the muscles bunching tensely.

And then he stopped. Right in front of her, he pulled to a halt, his midnight eyes blazing ferociously. "I cannot forgive them for what they did to me during those three days."

"Nobody expects you to."

"
I
expect it!" he roared, the words bouncing off the overhead beams like a pinball. "I expect myself to be better than they are, to not become less than … what I'm called to be, Kelse." Jared thrust a hand through his hair, trembling slightly. "I am a leader, and as much as it makes me uncomfortable, I am also a king. A king does not let bitterness take root in his soul. He has greater character and strength than that."

Kelsey wobbled up onto her feet, wrapping her arms about Jared from behind. She pressed her lips against his longest and most brutal scar, trailing her mouth down it in a healing gesture, lapping at it with the tip of her tongue. "They tortured you, sweetheart," she whispered at last. "You had a normal human … well, normal
Refarian
reaction. You're a good, kind man."

"I prayed to All every day after that, prayed that Veckus would be killed." The words were dark, threatening. "And he did die. But perhaps there's a cost; perhaps I'm going to be punished for those prayers."

Kelsey dropped her arms from about his waist, then stepped around him so she could stare him straight in the eye. "Veckus was a cruel killer who has taken more lives than we even know about. Of course you were right to pray that."

Jared's jaw tightened, ticking slightly. "I do
not
want to be like
they
are."

Kelsey realized that this battle had been waging itself inside Jared for a lot longer than she might have guessed—ever since his captivity. She could also understand why he'd never spoken about it, or his trauma or the scars. He'd been at war for years now, more years than she could even begin to fathom, and this was the area where his foundation had crumbled a bit.

"When Scott found me and freed me, I torched the entire camp."

"What do you mean? You dropped a bomb?"

Jared shook his head. "No, I torched it. In my D'Aravnian form, after Scott released me from the containment cell. I moved over the whole place, whirling like a hurricane, and killed every last Antousian in the place. I wanted to murder. I wanted to destroy … and I wanted Veckus obliterated from the universe."

"How did he get away?" Kelsey sat back on the edge of the bed, watching Jared's intense expression. For long moments, he seemed somewhere else, kept stroking his hands down the length of his long black hair.

"Jared?"

He jumped slightly as if he'd forgotten she was with him. "I never knew how he escaped. But I thank All every day that he finally died, that Jake killed him in the warehouse. But my hatred didn't die with him. Now I want Raedus. I want him with a vengeance I can taste. And I want the human Jake Tierny, want his life because of what he did to Hope and Scott …" Jared bowed his head, his eyes sliding shut. "Now you see why I do not discuss my scars. I'm ashamed for you to know the bitterness that rages inside my heart."

"They killed people you love, Jared." She gripped him by the forearms, wanting to physically shake some sense into him. "They are the enemies of your people. You talk about being a king—of course you hate what they've done. I know you—really know you—and you don't hate them. You hate that they subjugated your people."

He blew out an exhausted sigh. "Once again, you understand my heart completely."

"Well,
yeah
. Always." She laughed softly.

A slow, sideways smile slipped onto his face. "You never fail to link me back to myself, sweet love." The desperate, haunted look in his eyes faded a little. "And I suppose if All had been judging me, he never would have brought you back into my life."

"Our mating is the only proof you ever need that God loves you." Kelsey stood and cupped his face within her palms.

"Across this fathomless universe, He did draw us together."

"We could have wandered forever, you know. Never found each other. It's scary how easy that would have been." She leaned upward, kissing his cheek. Her belly, so large and ungainly, bumped right into his hips. Jared slid fingertips between them, touching her stomach.

"This babe, too, is perfect proof of All's existence," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with emotion. "She's our gift from him. When I was nearly past my fertility, we conceived this beautiful child … against such odds. A hybrid child that could so easily have never been. Oh, yes.
That
was a miracle. Almost as great as All himself drawing us together."

"Yes, it was." She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his body, just wanting him to feel her love. Needing him to feel the healing in that love. "Remember that when you doubt."

"I never doubt your love, Kelsey. Or the love that brought us Erica."

She nestled up against him, focusing on the primal heat and energy that thrummed within his body. She willed everything else to the sidelines, every doubt and fear about their future, of what was yet to come with his enemies. And silently—so very silently within her mind—she prayed that he would never be captured, not ever again.

But none of her prayers could stop her from shivering.

S
helby trotted through the
medical complex toward her room, thankful that she was finally heading for a shower. She hadn't gotten a chance to freshen up before the meeting with Jared—a little disgraceful, really, considering she had a serious case of bedhead and her clothes were rumpled from sleeping in the truck. Plus, Jake's sex had to be all over her, just had to be, but maybe the folks in the conference room had been too focused to notice their shared mating scent.

Spotting several other medics at the main station desk, she ducked covertly down the side hallway that led to her room. Making quick work of the door's lock, she shoved herself inside, collapsing on the other side of the frame. Good lord, that Jake Tierny was dangerous. Danger Incarnate with a capital
D
and
I.

Leaning her shoulder against the door, she struggled to find her breath, and it had nothing to do with the long hike down from the main lodge. Nope, it was all about her body and how Jake had teased her out to a very dangerous precipice. Her eyes slid shut as she remembered the feel of his warm mouth between her thighs. A strange, low sound shocked her, and only then did she realize she'd moaned aloud, releasing her pleasure at the memory of his tongue and what it had done to her.

This just ain't gonna do,
she thought, crossing the room and dropping her bag on the bottom bunk. The other female medic who shared her quarters had recently been transferred to another facility, so Shelby had all the alone time she wanted. She could be quiet and sort through her thoughts without interruption.

She sank onto the mattress and buried her head in both hands.
What have I gotten myself into?
she wondered, thinking about Jake's physical needs, his loneliness … and his very alien nature. She'd followed him to Texas because Jared had asked it; more than that, she'd yearned to go because she hadn't been able to shake Jake from her mind. So what was the big deal, now that they'd gotten together—and were clearly going to keep on getting together if he had his way about things?

It was Texas,
a quiet voice prompted.
All because you went back.

And didn't she know it? Going down south had unearthed a mountain of memories and pain. That, coupled with, well,
coupling
with Jake, had pretty much sealed the deal. The trip had launched her into an emotional tailspin, the likes of which she hadn't felt in years, not since the fire had taken the lives of so many of her friends … and of her lover. Nate.
Gods, Nate.

Barely lifting her head, her gaze fell on a small dark suede box on the desk across the room.
Oh, no you don't, girl. Don't you dare.

The box was as dangerous as the sex with Jake had been.
Or had it been just sex?
another quiet voice whispered. Wasn't it more like lovemaking, what they'd shared both times he'd been deep inside of her? As rough as it had been, it still was filled with such passion and need and intensity. Surely it wasn't just sex.

She gave her head a clearing shake. It was all because she'd gone back to Texas; that was it, really. It definitely didn't have a thing to do with the sad-eyed, gentle Antousian who had already begun to steal her heart. Not a thing at all.

With a shudder, she crossed the room and reached for the suede box … and unlocked that powder keg for the first time in at least two years.

J
ake strode through the
connecting corridors that led down to Shelby's quarters in the med area. He'd located her room on the confidential map, thankful for his very high clearance level. At least one thing could be said for everyone on base treating him like he was still Scott Dillon: He had the highest level of authority, whether he cared to accept it or not. Good thing, because as he'd told Shelby, they weren't finished, not by a long shot. Now that he'd done his duty by meeting with Chris, he couldn't get to her fast enough.

"I heard you were back," a warm, familiar voice called out, startling him from behind. He might not have seen her for months, but he'd recognize Anna Draeus's voice anywhere, and he drew to a dead stop.

Slowly he pivoted to face her—and got his first real shock of the day, which was truly saying something. Anna was wearing a thin black turtleneck with neat black pants, dressed totally as a civilian. More than that, her belly protruded like she was three or maybe even four months pregnant. She'd been un-mated when last he'd seen her during their battle over in Montana.

He pointed with his forefinger, wordless. She just laughed, touching a light hand to her stomach. "Yeah, go figure, huh?" Then she lifted both arms, pulling him into a strong embrace. "You made it back," she said, beaming up at him.

They had always been close, and years ago he'd been into her—had even tried kissing her on a mission one night. But the events of a few months back, the way she'd ministered to his wounded soul, had left him with a true soft spot for the soldier—enough so that he quickly grew uncomfortable with her closeness and ducked out of her grasp.

"Man, I missed you. Glad you're home."

"So who's the lucky soldier?" He couldn't help glancing down at her belly again. "You are really pregnant, friend."

She tugged on her ponytail, blushing slightly. "You didn't hear? Nothing at all?"

He felt like a big, dumb lug but just shook his head. "Shelby didn't tell me a thing."

"I'm with Nevin Daniels."

She might as well have popped him upside the jaw. "What?"

"Lieutenant Daniels—"

"Yeah, Anna," he cut her off, "I know who he is. Holy shit! He's …"
In his maturity
, he wanted to say, remembering the security adviser's full head of silver hair, the first outer sign that a Refarian male could no
longer sire children.

She shook her head, beaming. "We're expecting twins."

And now his eyes truly bugged right out of his head—to the point that he just wasn't sure he could think of a damned thing to say.

Her face assumed a giddy blush. "A very, very long story, trust me."

"But the guy's such a tight-ass."

She giggled, touching her face shyly. "You just don't know him like I do." From the dreamy, half-sexed expression on Anna's face, Jake got a very clear picture that the Daniels he knew in the
meeting room
was obviously a lot less inhibited in the
bedroom
. Still, he could only picture the lieutenant's silver head of matured hair.

"But he's infertile." What he remembered from only a few months earlier just wasn't adding up at all. "Totally
mature."

"Uh, I don't think so, Tierny. He's going to be a daddy pretty soon. I'm only one month in, and look." She patted her belly. "The doctor said it happens sometimes, a male in his maturity just kind of gets really, really fertile again."

"Really fertile," he repeated, and this time he was the one blushing like crazy.

"Your kind doesn't go through that, do they?" she asked, tilting her face up toward him with genuine curiosity. "I mean, Antousians don't…"

He swallowed, shaking his head. "Nope. Works like it does for the humans with me and my kind. I'll still be fertile when I'm an old dude."

Then, all of a sudden, the
look
came into her eyes. That embarrassed, almost pitying gaze that told him she was remembering how he'd lost Hope and baby Leisa. He backed a step away from her, his chest tightening painfully. "Look, we'll catch up," he blurted in a strangled voice. "Soon. I want to hear how you and the, uh, babies are doing. And. Nevin." He jogged backward a few more paces. "I'll come find you later."

"Jake, don't leave yet." Her voice was soft as she extended her hand.

"Gotta go. Have something to handle," he replied gruffly, then turned and walked as fast as he could toward Shelby's quarters.

S
helby stared at the holographic
chip in her palm. It had been years since she'd dared to activate it and once more view the digital images it contained. She closed her fist about the disk, then dug deeper into the box, finding a silver chain coiled against some papers at the bottom.

Slowly she withdrew the necklace, allowing it to dangle from her fingertips. A gleaming silver stone caught the light, a primexia, one of the most prized jewels back home. It was a mating stone, given for only one purpose ever—as a promise of deep bonding between two Refarians.

Her vision blurred, and time folded back. Beginning to sway, she felt the gauzy window of the last five years open wide. Nate stood behind her, brushing the hair away from her neck. "Keep your eyes closed," he whispered against her ear. "It's a surprise."

She giggled, feeling breathless. He'd told her that something big would happen tonight; she'd thought he might sneak her off base to the local movie theater. But then the dull thud of something heavy came to rest just above her breasts, the tinkling of a chain folding about her neck.

"What is it?" she asked, reaching for it, but Nate caught her hand.

"Not yet," he told her in that gruff, gravelly voice of his. He made an adjustment to the necklace, heavy and cool as it joggled against her breastbone, his hands touching her skin ever so slightly as he did so. At last he pressed his lips to her bare neck. "Now you can look,
nanlia.
"
Nanlia
. Refarian for "dear one." "Now you can look."

With a downward glance, she gasped. A bonding stone. The promise of a mating. In a tangle of hugs and tears and kisses, they pledged their love for each other that day, confessed their desire to bond—to mate totally, as signified by a formal ceremony. They would be one, he promised, for all eternity.

She rocked, watching the scene … no, not watching it.
Living it
. She had transported through time, had walked her way back into the painful memories, allowing herself to experience that last perfect day with Nate. How desperately she loved him, and how willing she was to give herself to him, totally and freely. Ah, yes, the emotion jetting through her veins was nothing less than true love.

Their friends clapped them both on the back, and Brian, their card-shark buddy, even made a big joke of kissing Nate right on the mouth and pouring champagne over his head. It had been the happiest of days. The very, very happiest of all her days, more joy than she'd experienced in years.…

Something distracted her, though, and this part wasn't right. There hadn't been a loud banging noise that day—that had come later, as the grenades started going off and the Antousians began storming the hangar. She scowled, rocking harder, walking the thread of time to its farthest possible extension, a shaky boardwalk out over the depths of space.

"Bond with me?" Nate whispered against her cheek. "Wear my promise chain until we are sealed?"

More banging, harsh and urgent.

But she wasn't ready to leave the time walk, still needed to nurse on the bittersweet memories.

"What the hell are you doing?"
A deep, masculine voice demanded, wiping past her visions.

She gave her head a shake, lying back on the floor, focused on Nate's soft brown eyes, memorizing the way the champagne poured down his throat.

"Shelby! What's wrong?"

With a spasmodic jerk, she blinked upward, blinded by the lights of the hangar. Gods, they were so unbelievably bright, and something had tackled her. She swatted at it, but it was too dang heavy, just pushing her down, down into the floor.

"Shelby!"

T
he seizures kept on ripping
through Shelby's slight body, even though Jake had her pinned down by both arms. "Shelby!"

More jerking, her thin arms whipping at her sides. Her lovely blue eyes were rolled back into her head, her legs and torso gyrating like mad. He glanced at the door, his heart hammering as he calculated how long it would take to run for one of the other medics.

This felt too familiar, too much like all the times he'd been with Hope during a diabetic seizure. Shelby was in such desperate shape, and he had nothing—not even a prayer—to offer her. She just kept on flailing and groaning, writhing beneath his big body. He tried to pin her down harder, did anything he could to calm her spasms. Hope's diabetic seizures had never been so traumatic; this was a whole new territory for him.

In All's name, not again,
he half prayed, memories of losing Hope tearing at his consciousness.
No time for regrets, not now.
Bending his face low, he got right up against her, nose to nose. "Shelby, listen to me. It's Jake. Jakob!"

No answer.

"Shelby!" he tried, louder this time. "It's me, Jake …" He paused, and then said, "It's
Scott!
I'm here with you—gods, I'm right here." Her body shook, then stilled, as if his voice—his very self—had settled her. She was covered in sweat, totally soaked. "It's Scott," he whispered again, drawing her damp head into his lap. "I'm right here, sweetheart," he said quietly. "It's me … Scott."

Just to call himself by that name was enough to rend his very soul, and the only reason he kept repeating the godsforsaken thing was because, more than Jake's name, it had seemed to soothe her. She twisted against him, rolling her head to the side within the cradle of his crossed legs, moaning. He kept petting her hair, his heart rate slowly settling down; with one last glance at the door, he wondered whether he should go for help, but the idea of leaving her—hell, any woman in bad shape—just didn't sit well with his memories.