Parallel Attraction Read online

  Footsteps sounded on the pinewood floor outside the bathroom. "You should come back in here," she called out. "It's warm by this fire, Jared." The alien loved his fires? She'd fire him up, all right, she thought with a mischievous turn in front of the mirror.

  She heard him pause outside the door, then hesitate. "Jared, I'm waiting!" she sang out flirtatiously, ready to seduce him all over again. "Oh, I have a surprise for you." She allowed her towel to slip to the floor and pool around her ankles.

  And then every delirious thought died: A man she'd never seen before appeared in the doorway, a man with threatening, hooded eyes.

  She shrieked, lunging for a bath towel, and shouted at him: "Oh, good grief! I'm naked, for God's sake! You can't just come in here without knocking!"

  He made no reply, but his vacant eyes locked with hers: cold, lifeless, blacker than night. Eyes that reflected everything in his soul—she knew it in that split second—and everything in his soul was Death. Suddenly her nakedness hardly mattered anymore, not when her very life hung in the balance.

  Lunging toward the door, she tried to escape, but he seemed to anticipate her move, and slid wordlessly to block her exit. Her next thought was to run, to just get past him somehow, but she couldn't seem to budge or even breathe, though she gasped for air. The moment was like something from her most terrible nightmares: Time froze, suspended endlessly before her. There was only the sound of blood rushing in her ears, and the sight of the dark man staring back at her as her mind worked to find a plan of escape. She took a step forward. Who the hell cared if he blocked her path! She'd get past him, escape him long enough for Jared to return. Jared would be here soon.

  Jared! she cried out with her spirit. Jared! It was a blood-curdling scream within her soul, a wrenching cry that she

  prayed her lover would hear.

  Then, oddly, the moment seemed to still. Everything grew quieter, and the man stepped aside, as if he would simply let her pass. She didn't have time to worry about her nakedness as she raced toward the door, but before she could reach it, the thing slammed shut in her face.

  From behind her, the intruder spoke in a voice that seemed to echo from the depths of some soulless abyss, reverberating off the emptiness of space. "Kelsey Bennett," the man said. "We meet again."

  Jared took the stairs two at a time, balancing the chocolates and a tray of cheese in one hand and a bottle of champagne with a couple of glasses in the other. Last year Scott had hidden the champagne in the far reaches of the refrigerator for Victory Day, that long hoped-for time when the Antousians would bow down before the Refarians in defeat. Jared had borrowed it for tonight's occasion, knowing he'd have the bottle replaced before his friend ever missed it.

  Jared reached the landing and paused, resituating the items into a more elegant arrangement before taking the remaining flight of stairs to Kelsey. On the landing's right side stood a cavernous den made from rough-hewn stone and wood. Designed by the architect to resemble a cave, the intimate room housed a movie screen and digital stereo system, and Jared never knew who of his elite officers might be discovered there, night or day. With a self-conscious glance, he hoped he would find himself alone on this stealth mission of his.

  Instead, a familiar, deep voice sounded from the hidden darkness. "I've been saving that bottle." There, leaning back on the leather sofa, sprawled his best friend.

  Jared gave him a guilty smile. "It's not like I won't replace it."

  Scott swung both feet to the floor, peering out at him from the semi-darkness like a cunning night creature. The room was punctuated only by the muted flickering of the television's blue light, and Scott's energized eyes caught the gleam, reflecting it back at Jared.

  "You're up late," Jared observed.

  "I was watching over my commander." Scott's eyes turned golden with emotion, glowing like embers in the darkness.

  "You weren't here when I went upstairs."

  Scott leaned forward, eyeing Jared even more intently. "I sensed you prowling about, and came to investigate."

  Jared turned away, making to leave the room. "I don't need that kind of watchdogging."

  "You need me to kick about five kinds of common sense into you!" Scott snarled, jumping to his feet. "Have you gone mad? She is human! Human, Jared. They are your enemies."

  Jared rounded on his friend. "They are my protected."

  "They are hunting your ass!" Then, seeming to catch himself, Scott muttered, "With all due respect, sir."

  "Only a few hunt me."

  "Her people are hunting you, Jared," Scott maintained. "Don't fool yourself. They hunt you and will keep on hunting you until they have you." Scott's eyes blazed golden-red, then orange. Rarely did his friend's emotions flare visibly, only when he was at his most agitated. "The humans don't care what you're doing for them. Frankly, I don't know why you even bother. Let them blow themselves up in one of their own countless wars… then the Antousians can pick over their bones."

  Jared stiffened. "We have a mission here, and that mission hasn't changed," he said coolly. "We protect. That is why we came."

  "And your safety is irrelevant?" They'd had this same damnable conversation before—on numerous occasions. His chief adviser had very specific ideas about his commander's safety, but those ideas bordered on smothering Jared.

  "If I died tomorrow, Scott, would you carry out my mandate?" he asked in a serious voice. "Because I need to know your position."

  "Yes."

  "The humans do not understand us, but that does not make them our enemies."

  "You don't belong with her." The words came out in a hoarse, barely audible whisper.

  Jared sighed, depositing the tray on the coffee table, then setting the champagne bottle and glasses next to it. "This has nothing to do with Kelsey."

  "It has everything to do with her." Scott snorted derisively, composure regained. "The woman is one of them. For all you know, she's a spy. She could be here gathering intel from your most vulnerable place—your own mind."

  At this assertion, Jared smiled. "Scott, she is no spy."

  "You don't know that."

  "Trust me." He laughed. "She's not a spy."

  "She was there the night you were shot down," Scott reminded him. "That was pretty convenient, don't you think?"

  "You don't know her."

  "Excuse me, Commander—but you do? It's only been a week."

  A quiet hush overcame Jared in an instant. "A week spent under the deep sway of a soul bond." He couldn't possibly explain to Scott about precisely how much they'd remembered of each other. Scott hadn't even been on that mission to Earth all those years ago.

  Scott's eyes grew large, the golden-orange flaring bright in their depths again. "Gods, you mated with her!" The revulsion in his voice was clear as he circled closer. "Tell me you didn't. Not with her… not with a human." Scott's eyes brightened to laser points, flickering vibrantly with threatening power.

  "Watch yourself, Lieutenant," Jared admonished, pointing to his own eyes by way of explanation. Scott blinked back at him, clearly unaware of how hard and fast his power had been escalating. "Your eyes," Jared said gently, and Scott dropped his gaze. Beyond his soul gazing, the hybrid soldier possessed other, more dangerous gifts, ones he always struggled to keep in check when among his comrades.

  Pointedly studying the floorboards, Scott repeated his question: "Did you mate with her, sir?" His voice had assumed a chastened tone, his black eyebrows knitted together in worry as he waited.

  Jared considered his reply. Scott Dillon had been beside him since boyhood, always loyal, always prepared to fight. From a biological standpoint, the two men should have been enemies; from a philosophical one, however, they stood together—always had.

  "Yes, we are mated," he admitted quietly.

  Scott made a flourishing bow. "Congratulations, my lord," he said, his voice hoarse and filled with emotion. "I wish you many years of happiness together."

  "I wish you approved."

 
; Scott shrugged, sadness filling his dark eyes, which were brown again—no longer flaring with energy. After a moment spent regarding his king, Scott whispered, "I do, too."

  Chapter Eleven

  Kelsey Bennett. The intruder had called her Kelsey Bennett. Her mind whirled—why would he call her by Jared's last name? They weren't married yet; besides, she'd never seen the man before in her life. He had no way of knowing everything that had changed between Jared and her tonight in his chambers.

  The intruder studied her, taking a step closer, an expression of mingled hatred and fascination on his dark features. Kelsey fumbled to grab a bath towel from beside the sink, bunching it in front of herself protectively, but then it slipped, revealing the soft curve of her breasts before she could secure it again.

  In reaction, the man arched an eyebrow suggestively, but made no comment.

  A silvery scar divided the black hairs of that right eyebrow, creating a sharp furrow before the mark sliced upward across his forehead, vanishing somewhere in the black, wavy hair atop his head. That scar had to be important—she knew it, though the reason why seemed to float just beyond her grasp.

  "To think that Jared couldn't protect you," he observed in a hushed voice—a threatening one. Had Jared tried to stop this invader on his way into the bedroom suite? Was Jared out in the hall, hurt? "To have failed you, of all people, sweet Kelsey." He shook his head, clucking his tongue. "The man always lacked wisdom, but this? It surprises even me."

  "Let me out!" she cried, giving him a serious shove in the chest, but he didn't even budge at the impact of her frame against his. He released a low chuckle, but that was all. She had to get past this guy, whoever he was, and into the bedroom. Again, she lunged at him, but this time he caught her wrist in midair, and the towel gave a small lurch, dropping low. He gazed downward, a lustful expression on his face as he examined her.

  "Stop it," she spat. The adrenaline was rushing so furiously throughout her body, she felt light-headed and dizzy.

  "You don't like that?" he asked, clearly enjoying this game with her.

  Grabbing a hairbrush from the counter, she hurled it at him, but he easily deflected her makeshift weapon with his forearm.

  "Kelsey Bennett, I'm not going anywhere," he said, releasing a throaty laugh at her expense. "Not with a show like this to enjoy. You always were quite the spitfire, and I admire that in a woman."

  Once more, she searched past him, wishing Jared would return. Was he injured? She tried feeling for him within their new bond, but only emptiness echoed back across their separation.

  She turned on their enemy. "What have you done to him?" she demanded. "Tell me where Jared is."

  The man said nothing, but took a step closer. He possessed a panther-like grace, giving the impression not of movement but rather of a kind of fluidity—and this despite his towering height. He was Jared's size, perhaps even taller, with the same exquisite dark eyes and rich-colored skin. Gauging by those looks, he had to be Refarian—at least based on what little she already knew of that species' coloring: few of their kind seemed to be fair-skinned or light-haired.

  "What do you want?" she demanded, rising to her nearly six feet of height and staring him in the eye.

  The man did not reply, but instead acted as if he had all the time in the world, his sinister gaze roving the length of her barely concealed form as he circled inward upon her. First he studied her legs, and then his look drifted toward her hips, the hooded eyes seeming to register every detail. His gaze trawled even farther upward, lingering. Invading. Provoking. Still he said nothing.

  "You have no right to be here!" she said firmly, working to seize control of their interaction.

  "On the contrary," he purred, leaning languorously against the marble countertop. "I have every right. In fact, I'm more than a little entitled, my dear."

  "Jared will be back any minute," she told him, trying to sound forceful, but her words only came out raspy and shrill. The stranger smiled, a smug look coming over his features as she wrestled to readjust the towel.

  He folded powerful arms across his chest. "Don't bother with that on my account," he offered, again lifting one eyebrow tauntingly. "Besides, my business isn't with Jared."

  "Who are you?" she tried again, feeling her hands tremble as she clutched the towel close.

  "You may call me Marco," he drawled, "though I'm surprised you don't know me." He studied her, shady eyes narrowing.

  "I've never seen you before in my life."

  "Well, Kelsey Bennett." He shook his head, releasing a slow, rumbling laugh. "It's been far too long for me." He gave her one last appraising look. "Far, far too long. But trust me; I'm more than pleased to see you again."

  From the bottom of the stairs Scott heard his commander cry out, a pained, raw sound, the sort he rarely heard from Jared—or indeed from any other soldier outside of the battlefield. Springing to his feet, he hit the comm button on his forearm, signaling the highest distress code among their ranks. "Jared!" he shouted, and another wounded howl of agony rang from the steps below. Scott stumbled, taking the steps three at a time until he tumbled to the bottom, and there in front of his king's bedroom, forearms braced against the door frame, Jared Bennett stood bathed in the clean blue light of an energy field.

  "Commander!" Scott cried again, pulling up fast. His gaze darted to the bedroom's interior, but he could see nothing. He looked back at Jared, who appeared uninjured. "What's happened? What's going on here?"

  "They have her," Jared rasped, his voice eerie in its quiet. He stood dangerously close to the undulating energy field, attempting to look past it into the room. "I can't see anything. But they have her; I feel it"

  "We have to get you to safety, Commander." Any of their enemies might be here, but that blue swirling helix was the telltale sign of only one: the Antousians. "Sir!" Scott barked again, wrestling with Jared, who shrugged him off as he would a small insect.

  Scott did not back down. "We must secure you," he demanded, but Jared wouldn't budge, instead moving even closer against the undulating bands of energy. "You are in danger, my lord!" Scott shouted at his friend, but Jared seemed to be in a kind of shock, entranced almost.

  "They took her," Jared repeated, his voice a dull whisper. "My mate—they have her."

  "Sir, please," Scott begged, wrestling with Jared. "She may still be inside. We must get you to safety. Your protection, sir, is paramount. You know the protocols for this."

  Jared turned to him, and for a long moment their eyes locked, silent intention passing between them. Scott knew what would happen next, felt it ripple across the surface of his perception before Jared actually made his move.

  Jared glanced away from him, and then with a seamless, fluid gesture, shifted form, converting to pure energy. Scott took a staggering step backward, Jared's heat almost singeing him before he had time to process his king's powerful change.

  Jared's fierce form rose toward the ceiling, expanding, towering, filling the area outside the bedroom doorway. A loud roaring sound—like a freight train speeding toward them—hummed through the air as Jared hurled himself at the banded doorway, blue sparks shattering in a bright arc. On the stairs, Scott heard the approaching thunder of footsteps, and quickly recognized his comrades' voices in the din of soldiers' cries: Anna, Anika, Thea, others. Still facing the doorway, he lifted one hand to halt them as they arrived, and they lined up just behind him.

  Scott's own weapon was cocked and ready, and he knew that the soldiers behind him were heavily armed as well. All watched and waited, breath held, as over and over Jared launched his energized form against the power grid. Scott felt his friend's pain shooting through the air around them. Smelled the blistering sparks of the Antousian bands, sizzling off of Jared's own power—which had to hurt, no matter how much energy was building within Jared's D'Aravnian body at the moment.

  A secondary unit of soldiers came pounding down the steps. "There's nothing, Lieutenant Dillon," the lead officer reported from be
hind him. "No sign of unauthorized entry in the compound, sir."

  How could Antousian forces have broken into Jared's quarters, the most secure place in the whole compound, without being detected? Antousians were plenty skilled at subterfuge, but there were too many intuitives in this cabin who would have sensed them. Besides, no one would've gotten past Scott's own sensory perceptions. He could sniff out any Antousian within half a mile of them; at least something good had come of his barbaric mixed heritage.

  Jared released a high-pitched wail as he flung himself yet again at the barrier, this time twining his energy with that of the Antousian force field, pressing, pulsing, joining his blazing swath of power with that of his enemies. Just behind Scott, he heard Thea gasp, whispering Jared's name in a stricken voice. She of all people knew what this desperate bid to dissolve the field was costing their king. In front of them all, Jared's magnificent golden power battled with the blue of the swirling helix, nestling in, burrowing—becoming one with the gyrating power source.

  Scott had watched Jared destroy enemy armies in this blazing form, moving over them like a hushed kiss, taking their life that easily. But when raw energy met another kind of equally raw energy—well, that was another story altogether. Scott swallowed hard, unexpected fear seizing him. For a moment, the familiar color of Jared's power faded, matching that of the Antousian bands of blue energy.

  "We have to stop him," Thea hissed, low enough that others wouldn't hear, but perceptible to Scott's heightened hearing.

  "What's he trying to do?" Scott's eyes never left his king.

  "The ultimate takedown." Her tone was quiet as death itself. "He's trying to rupture the field with his own power. He's using his body—his energized form—as a weapon against their weapon."