Parallel Attraction Read online

  He reached the first landing, and released a tightly held breath: It seemed fortune was with him and that he was all alone this night.

  "I've been saving that bottle," came the husky voice of his best friend from the deepest shadows. So much for luck.

  Jared paused on the landing, staring into the dark media room. "I'm good for it," he replied with a sheepish grin.

  "Pretty tacky to go swiping the thing, don't you think? Especially since I've been saving it for your victory day." Scott's irritation was undisguised.

  Jared took a step inside the media room toward Scott. "No disrespect intended, Lieutenant"

  Scott studied him in serious appraisal, leaning back in his chair. "It's not your respect I'm worried about, Jared."

  Jared folded his arms across his chest. "Then what?"

  "It's not often I find you slinking about at this hour"— Scott's eyes narrowed sharply—"up to no good."

  "I'm fine," Jared said, gritting his teeth at the suffocating protection. "You knew that I had to be."

  "This human has bewitched you, plain and simple."

  Jared laughed aloud. "Ah, so this is about my attraction to Kelsey." He knew he was downplaying the matter to a ludicrous degree, but he was not yet ready to discuss his mating with his lifelong friend. "You're bothered by it?" he asked in his most offhand manner.

  "Attraction is one thing, Jared," Scott said with a visible look of distaste, "but you can let it go only so far. Sex is sex, my friend, and best to keep it that way."

  "This isn't that simple." Jared thought of how it had felt to be inside of Kelsey. The soft curve of her hips beneath his, that cascade of jewel-toned hair across his cheek as they kissed, the thrilling sensation as her soul brushed against his. How could once ever be enough with his sweet human? Never. A lifetime would be needed. "It's about far more than attraction," he finished huskily.

  "She's hot, the end," Scott said, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

  Jared nodded in unequivocal agreement. "She is beautiful; there's no question."

  "For a human." Scott's keen eyes narrowed with almost laser-like intensity, but he made no further reply.

  Jared cocked his head, studying his lieutenant. "You don't find her attractive?" He was genuinely interested in Scott's appraisal of his new lifemate.

  Scott scowled. "Humans are pale and round faced." Now this comment—coming from Scott, of all people—made Jared snort with amusement.

  "That is laughable, friend." He dropped into one of the large leather chairs, kicking up his feet.

  Scott continued, "She's freckled and very pale—paler than most of her kind, especially when compared to you, my lord—even you'll admit that." Jared's own high cheekbones and rich-colored skin stood in sharp contrast not only to Kelsey's, but to Scott's as well.

  Jared grinned. "You have fairer skin than my human's, Lieutenant Dillon."

  He smirked back at Jared. "But I'm dark blooded in my heart."

  "Ah, the old racial questions," Jared observed with a smile, "raising their heads once again."

  Scott raked fingers through his raven-black hair, which seemed to respond by shooting out in every possible direction. But he said nothing. Scott's hybrid DNA had troubled him throughout their boyhoods and on into their early adulthood. Guilt, anger, shame—those silent emotions were his constant companions, and he spoke of them to none besides Jared.

  He gave a shrug. "I wish I were Refarian."

  Jared leaned forward in his seat, eyeing his friend with a forceful, kingly gaze. "Lieutenant, you are Refarian," he insisted. "You hold the second highest place in my army. That says everything about who you are."

  Scott lifted his eyes to meet Jared's. "Have you seen my DNA markers lately?"

  Jared raised a finger, thrusting it at Scott. "You lead this army," he reiterated. "That is your pedigree. That is your identity—not some useless genetic map."

  Scott shook his head, staring into his lap. "Jared, please."

  "Am I incorrect, soldier?"

  "I wish . . ." Scott blew out a weary sigh. "I wish I respected the humans more," he finally said, "and I wish I didn't hate my Antousian blood so damned much."

  Jared leaned forward in the near-darkness, eyeing his best friend intently. "S'Skautsa," he said, calling him by his most intimate, rarely whispered Refarian name, "think you not of the importance of your heritage? Think you not it be key?" Jared continued speaking in hushed, idiomatic Refarian. "Who better than you to rally all three of our races under one treaty?"

  "You, my lord!" he said, burying his face in his hands. "You are the one they will follow."

  "And if something happens to me?" Jared persisted, serious. "Would you still carry out my mandate?" His mandate had always been simple: to protect the humans from the Antousians' genocidal ways, to prevent the harvesting of more humans—or the taking of more life—until a peace treaty could be crafted between all three species. "Would you honor my wishes?"

  Scott dropped his hands from his face in shocked concern. "Are you planning on dying, sir?"

  "Of course not," Jared said, "but I'm not certain you're planning on leading if I do."

  "I will lead," Scott pledged with a vigorous nod. "I will protect Earth. Should anything happen to you, I'll protect all those you love, and I know you love this species— even though I don't understand it. They hunt you. They want you dead; they do their level best to destroy you at every turn, yet still you champion them."

  "Because they do not understand either."

  "They still hunt you, Jared," he insisted. "Don't be fooled about that."

  Jared grew quiet. "Only a few," he finally agreed, thinking of Kelsey and how tender he knew her heart to be. Such vulnerability counterbalanced by strength—such fearlessness in the face of the unknown. Admirable qualities he knew were a hallmark of other humans, as well.

  "What are you doing with this Kelsey?" Scott stared at the muted television. "You obviously think she's gorgeous—you're half-crazed by your damnable bond with the woman. Have you slept with her now, too?"

  Jared exhaled, a soft, electrified sound of pleasure that caused Scott's mouth to fall open.

  "Oh, no. Tell me I'm wrong," Scott said, his dark eyes widening. "Tell me I'm imagining that look on your face, sir."

  Jared felt warmth flood his features, and wondered if the blush was visible by the dim light of the television. "You sleep with women, many of them," Jared contended, and Scott rose to his feet, glaring down at him with thinly disguised impudence.

  "I sleep with them. Yes. I don't hide that fact," he said. "Our army has many beautiful Refarian women in it. Refarian! For All's sake, Commander, you could have had your pick! Any one of them would have been honored."

  "You've slept with humans, too."

  Scott shook his head in denial, wandering to the other side of the room. "That's not true."

  "I've heard the rumors." In fact, it was Anika who'd reported that over the past year, Scott had developed quite a taste for human women, often leaving camp in the late hours to seek their companionship. In Anika's words, he liked them human and "blond and small and well-endowed."

  "Rumors," Scott dismissed, tilting his chin upward. "And you believe them?"

  "It's my job to track my chief officers."

  Scott folded both of his strong forearms over his chest. "This dismal planet hardly makes a decent shore leave, but I'm determined to find my way here."

  "Why won't you just admit it?" Jared gestured at his friend, frustrated by the man's refusal to acknowledge the truth. "You have a taste for these human women that I'm told—pardon my saying so—can hardly be satisfied. If it can be met at all. That's what I'm told."

  Scott gaped back at him, wordless. At first, his fair human skin blanched, but then reddened, high blotches of color forming on both of his cheeks. Yet he said nothing.

  "As I thought," Jared continued, answering for both of them. "My intelligence is accurate. Which would make your 'round faced and pale' remark see
m a bit hypocritical." Truth was, Jared had wondered if it might actually be a genetic compulsion that had been driving Scott toward the humans; if his Antousian mating urges weren't coupling with his human DNA, trying to pair him physically with his similar kind here on Earth.

  "Human women are delectable as hell," Scott spit, his eyebrows furrowing with dissatisfaction. "But I won't pretend I like that fact."

  Jared beamed in victory. "Kelsey is quite so," he agreed, feeling the burn for his lifemate begin anew. He glanced down the stairs, toward where she waited for him, probably in his giant sleigh bed. "I'm sure you understand," he said, rubbing his palms together in anticipation.

  "No, I don't understand," Scott said, pacing the small room. "The attraction, yes. Sleeping with their kind for an hour or two? Yes, I more than comprehend the appeal of that, believe me." Scott paused, meeting Jared's eyes meaningfully as he made his full confession. "But not taking one as lifemate— no, my lord, that I do not understand at all, not when you're titled and destined to lead the Refarian people."

  "Our destiny is woven together with the human one," Jared answered, gently rebuking his lieutenant. Scott knew the prophecies—understood them as well as Jared did—if not better, given his dedication to the mystics' teachings. "You know this, soldier."

  "I know this," Scott grumbled, shaking his head. "But there is no edict about your mate, J'Areshkadau."

  "Yes, there is a prophecy."

  Scott's black eyebrows shot up in unmasked curiosity. "Go on, my lord."

  "I will share it sometime," he promised, feeling his heart thunder at the memory. The mystics had whispered over him the night they'd left Refaria on the royal battle cruiser. Boarding the craft, they'd entered his small quarters on the lower deck and whispered their thoughts. Then, as recently as last spring, they had spoken over him via the council chamber, proclaiming cryptic predictions of a "fire child." The elders, gathered for the prophesying, had immediately interpreted these prophecies to mean a royal heir from a mating with Thea, whose natural state was so similar to Jared's own. Jared, on the other hand, remembered the secret prophecies from six years earlier, and believed this promise of a fire child was a reference to the results of a love mating.

  Scott tapped his foot impatiently. "My lord?" he prompted. "You were saying?"

  Jared deliberated about telling Scott something so personal, but in the end, his deep trust for the man won out. In a quiet voice he admitted, "Six years ago, on the battle cruiser, the mystics spoke over me. They foretold a love match."

  "You never told me there was a word about your mate," he breathed, dropping onto the sofa across from Jared. Scott was nothing if not curious about everything the mystics had to offer them.

  Jared bowed his head, his voice filling with emotion. "It was private, for me only." On one hand, he had never believed himself capable of mating—had viewed his life as too dangerous for companionship, and been resolved to remain unfettered by that kind of attachment. But, in the most secret chambers of his heart, he had longed for the words to be true. "Not even the council elders knew."

  "If they'd known, they would have pressed you even harder about Thea," Scott observed, obviously trying to guess Jared's motives for keeping the word secret.

  Jared snorted with sarcasm. "Hardly."

  Scott planted both hands on his knees, leaning almost out of his seat. "Did the mystics foretell a human?"

  "They foretold love."

  Jared swore that naked envy appeared in Scott Dillon's eyes. "You are luckier than I thought."

  "I mated with Kelsey tonight," he admitted in a hushed voice, verbalizing what Scott surely suspected already.

  Scott nodded. "I know."

  Jared's hand moved self-consciously to his chest. The smooth skin, exposed at the robe's opening, still burned hot. One glance down and he could see that the glow had only intensified over the past hour—the longer the bond had simmered between him and Kelsey, the brighter the mating aura over his skin burned. "I should have dressed," he muttered, tugging the robe tighter about his chest.

  "No, my lord, you wear the mating well," Scott observed, assuming a formal tone. "I wish you every happiness, sir."

  Jared watched Scott sink backward into the sofa opposite him, his shoulders slumping into a weary posture—as if the whole conversation had taken all his energy and siphoned it. Jared whispered, "And I wish you approved."

  Scott's black gaze grew wistful. "I wish I had someone of my own."

  "You will—when the day comes."

  "Oh, Jared, please." He yielded a bitter laugh. "I'm cranky and difficult, and none of the women in this camp—the smart ones, at least— will have a thing to do with me." He reached for the champagne bottle that stood on the table between them, turning it in his hands reflectively. "I'm good in bed. That gets me about an hour's worth of human attention. If I'm lucky, that is."

  "You run from yourself," Jared whispered, knowing it was truer than Scott could ever understand. "Who can follow that hard?"

  Scott laughed. "You're sounding pretty prophetic yourself now, Jared."

  Then Scott blessed him with one of his warmest—rarely seen—smiles, and tossed the champagne cheerfully into Jared's waiting hands. "A thousand years of happiness for my king and his mate!" he thundered, and it even sounded like he meant it.

  "A thousand years!" Jared agreed, accepting the traditional Refarian blessing over a mating union.

  Scott watched as his king strode down the steps, a proud, cocksure measure to his naturally confident gait. A king walked like a king, no matter what he tried to call himself, but Jared Bennett was the most humble powerful man he'd ever known. The kind of power his king carried in his genes equated to that of a mini nuclear reactor, yet his commander would as soon go hiking for three days in the backwoods as call himself ruler of any people.

  Still, he radiated all that power—all that heritage and purebred Refarian bloodline, and yet the one thing Scott Dillon would trade his life for was what he'd just seen in his best friend's eyes: true love. The man had found and claimed a lifemate, whereas Scott had forsaken that hope years ago, long before they'd even left Refaria. He was wed to soldiering and warfare and the nomadic way of life. Even within the ranks, he had no prospects of finding a suitable mate, not when he'd heard the gossip and realized the hard truth of his reality—none of his fellow soldiers considered him the least bit physically appealing. Among the Refarian ranks, he was the one with the round face and the pale skin and the low cheekbones and the wide-set eyes.

  Scott caught his reflection in the long mirror that graced the hallway opposite the media room. The man gazing back at him had large, doleful eyes—almost black, he'd been told—and black hair to match, worn a fraction too long for a soldier. But Jared never complained, understanding that the long hair helped him blend in outside of camp, and so he dressed like a local, wearing knit caps and his hair long on the nape. And, not surprisingly given his Antousian-human genetic heritage, Scott appeared fully human—both in dress and physicality. Like the humans, his face grew ruddy when the wind kicked up, blotches of red standing out in stark contrast to his fair skin, like bloodstains on the wintry mountains. That didn't happen to the Refarians, of course; their own dusky-copper skin had evolved on a planet prone to extreme conditions—hot sun, frigid winter, briny oceanscape. Anna had nicknamed him Snow White, which just pissed him off on principle, plain and simple; it made him feel like the outsider he always was among this crew, not to mention the implied, insult of giving him a feminine designation.

  Anna—the same woman he'd once tried to kiss on a recon mission, who had instead laughed in his face. Was he hideous? He stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't think so. He just didn't look like the others in this army. So he'd begun to seek out the company of human women; not because he desired them, but because they wouldn't laugh at him, as Anna had. That had been at first, but then….Ah, but then he'd gotten his first taste of the creatures. Lolling his head back against the cushion of
the leather sofa, he closed his eyes in aroused appreciation.

  Humans were delicious: their crazily gyrating energy, their frenzied bedplay, their emotionalism. He liked to believe that human women were his own well-kept secret, a kind of blessing for having to live among these ranks as an alien—until now. Now his secret had been revealed because Jared had discovered the delectable allure of human women. Of course, Jared would trump him; he always did, Scott thought with an ugly flash of jealousy that he quickly battled away. How could he begrudge Jared Bennett any happiness? His king had no life of his own to speak of: from the moment he'd been born, a baby brought forth in the midst of a bloody, tragic revolution, the D'Aravnian heir had been required to grow old. No, Scott could not begrudge his beloved king and best friend even one moment of happiness.

  Still, Scott had "gone native" because he had been given no other choice; none of his comrades would have Snow White. He'd tried to broach something with another woman, a tech down at Base Seven. She'd been polite, but embarrassed, and told him it didn't seem like a great idea.

  Two nights later he'd driven into town on the hunt, determined to go home with a human woman that night. And the shocking thing wasn't that he'd been successful, but rather just how easy his conquest had been. Julie, she'd been named, a leggy girl with straight blond hair that had fascinated him almost as much as the sex had. After he'd left her sated in bed that night, a new craving had been birthed inside of Scott, one that could seemingly never be satisfied.

  But why had Jared chosen to mate with a human? Upon meeting Kelsey Wells he'd had no idea about human powers when it came to mating, even for the briefest unions. Or was it the sway of the soul bond over the man, working its subtle mysticism? No, the look in Jared's eyes had been unmistakable; the prophecies were true—Jared had made a love match. Was it really possible, then, that Scott might still have a chance of finding love on this forsaken outpost of a planet?

  Scott gazed at his reflection in the mirror, and felt his racially inherited need for humans flame hot yet again. Curses on his mixed blood and his human-Antousian hybridization, he swore, even as another part of himself wished it weren't too late to head back out on the prowl once again.