Chapter Eleven
Terra Nova Colony, present day…
From the fourth rung of the ladder, Lana slapped her dripping brush into a corner seam. The splat preceded a wet, gloppy sound as she spread the paint with long up and down strokes. Institutional off-white—what a snooze. If she had a credit for every mind-numbingly dull wall or ceiling she’d painted in the past few months, she’d be a wealthy woman. But she’d still be bored out of her mind.
“Nearly four hundred years since the invention of drywall,” she muttered under her breath, “and no one has figured out a better way to get paint on walls?”
“They have, Hartman. It’s called a sprayer. Why aren’t you using the one I brought you?”
She looked over her shoulder to see her boss, Beckett Kincaid, a jaw-droppingly handsome Texan, all six feet eight inches of him, standing with his massive arms crossed over his broad chest. If not for his ice-blue eyes and the glints of gold in his medium-brown, close-cropped hair, he could easily be mistaken for one of their Primarian hosts.
“The sprayer makes a mess, and it clogs every five minutes, which takes more time than brushing it on. Besides, I didn’t have enough drop cloths to cover the floor. Whose bright idea was it to lay the tile before I painted, anyway?”
“I have more installers than painters, which puts them way ahead of you. At the same time, you’re in high demand, kept gainfully employed, and getting a shit-ton of overtime, so quit griping.”
“Yeah,” she drawled sarcastically. “I can spend it all on a new wardrobe at the mall that just opened or on a spa day.” She raised a hand to scrutinize her nails. “A mani-pedi is long overdue. Oh, wait!” she exclaimed suddenly, bouncing on the ladder rung a tiny little bit for show. “I can get a bikini wax for the cruise I plan to take next week with all the double-time credits you've paid me.”
“Smart-ass,” he replied part irritated grumble, part chuckle.
She shot him a half-smile, the most she’d been capable of in longer than she could remember. Then, as the melancholy fell over her again, she went back to her task.
Beck had the best chance of getting a full smile out of her, and if he tried, perhaps a short laugh. He had a great sense of humor, and despite being her boss, he’d become a friend. They had lunch together from time to time, went to the bar after work at least once a week. Yeah, they didn’t have a mall or a day spa, not even a barbershop to get her hair trimmed which was now past her bra strap, yet, one of the first buildings to go up in this predominantly male world-in-progress was a bar. The Watering Hole was actually called a pub, but the rustic beer and whiskey joint, with its digital jukebox and two pool tables, the only amenities to speak of, wasn't up to such high standards. Not that Lana minded. Clubbing wasn’t her thing, she wasn’t the live-at-the-mall type, and she hadn’t ever had a mani-pedi in her life; all required money. Something, ironically, she had now but had no desire or place to spend it.
Sadly, her life had become as bland as the boring paint she currently spread on the wall. Other than her occasional outings with Beck, she worked, went back to her standard issue, cookie-cutter apartment, and climbed into bed—alone. Her wardrobe consisted primarily of sneakers, jeans, and T-shirts, and 99.9 percent of the time, she wore coveralls on top of them. Lana suspected her nonexistent social life was what prompted her boss to invite her to tag along the first time. After declining more than once, he finally insisted. A pitcher of beer, loaded nachos, and two games of pool later, it became a weekly thing.
The best part of an evening with Beck was that it was laid back with no romantic notions whatsoever on either side. Yeah, he was smoking hot, but as her employer, he was off-limits, which suited her fine. Like her, he’d been through a painful breakup and wasn’t interested in getting entangled in another. They were friends, nothing more. At times, he got on her nerves with his bossy, overprotective brother act, but deep down, she didn’t hate it, never having a brother of her own, or any family to speak of for that matter.
Coming up on her toes, she strained to reach the uppermost corner of the fifteen-foot-high ceiling, a stretch despite the extension handle on her brush. Once finished, this would be a conference room in the new colony’s city hall. In consideration of their extraordinarily tall Primarian partners in this endeavor, the ceilings were much taller than standard height. She'd passed a warrior the other day who was every bit of eight feet tall. Above average, sure, but the eight-foot ceilings in a typical building would make most Primarian's—even the females—feel hemmed-in.
“Be careful,” he warned suddenly.
She’d been lost in thought and forgotten he was there. Glancing over her shoulder, she glared at him. Startling her like that was more dangerous than anything she could have been doing. “Go away, Beck. I’ve painted at least one hundred rooms—”
“More like fifty,” he cut in sharply. “You should at least be using a scaffold instead of a ladder.”
She ignored that, adding, “I’m injury free compared to a bunch of your manly construction dudes, and don’t need someone looking over my shoulder. It makes me nervous.”
Waving him off was a tactical error, however, because rather than the one with the brush, she used the hand holding onto the ladder. Ordinarily, she could multitask, but she was still on her toes and off-balance. Or, it could have been the sudden buzzing in her ears. Either way, the room tilted on end, and she swayed—not good while up on the fourth of six rungs—and tipped backward.
Lana made a desperate grab for something substantial but only came up with air as everything around her whirled. Closing her eyes, she braced for a jarring collision with the hard tile floor. She landed with a thud, the breath leaving her lungs, but she didn’t experience the pain she’d expected. Instead, a pair of strong arms caught and held her tight against a broad, muscular chest. It was still hard but more forgiving than the floor.
“Easy, darlin’, I got you,” Beck murmured in his southern drawl.
She looked up, trying to focus. When she saw two of him rapidly whirling, she clutched at his shoulders.
“Lana, are you all right?”
“Dizzy.” She blinked, trying to merge the two images of her handsome boss into one.
“That does it.”
Suddenly, she was moving again. This time not spinning or falling, but with purposeful intent. Although when she opened her eyes and saw the ceilings above her, some finished, some still waiting for her to paint, it set her off-kilter once more. Her fingers dug in, fisting in his shirt.
“Beck?” she asked, her voice sounding weak and rather pathetic. “What are you doing?”
He didn't answer, only kept on walking, out of the room and down the main corridor to the front doors.
“Can you at least tell me where you are taking me?”
“To the doctor,” he informed her as he quickly descended the flight of stone steps to the sidewalk, the only one in the city, poured only days before. “You’re dropping weight as though you’re training for a marathon, down at least twenty pounds in the six months I’ve known you, and you didn’t have it to lose in the first place.”
“Have you seen my butt?” Her attempt at humor fell flat.
“Lana,” he shot back sharply. “I'm not joking around.”
“Okay, but I’m fine. I forget to eat sometimes. I skipped breakfast this morning.”
At the corner, he turned left and strode toward the clinic located across the street and halfway down the block. “You don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive, dammit. And with the long hours you put in, and the distant look in your eyes when you don’t know anyone’s watching, I can only assume you're still mooning over your general.”
“Do people still say mooning?”
“Dammit, Hartman, I’m serious.”
“And I don’t want to talk about it!” she snapped back. “You can put me down; I’ll walk the rest of the way. People are beginning to stare.” She struggled to get free, but his arms only got tighter, and it was a good thing because her head still wasn't right, her erratic movements made it spin more. Resigned to the fact she needed help, she stilled, though she didn't relax. And she didn't do it without setting him straight. “Another thing, he’s not my general. It’s been over for more than a year.”
“Yeah? Is that why after work you pout in your beer at the pub or slink off to your apartment alone? On a planet where the men outnumber women one hundred-to-one, a pretty, single girl like you should have a busy social calendar.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Yes, and General Trask is the reason. Admit it.”
She glared up at him. “Shut it, Beck.”
“Prove to me you’re not wallowing in a deep, dark funk, still in love with the guy, and I will.”
By this time, they’d arrived at the white-sided building with the red cross on the sign. As if she were no heavier than the bird he’d accused her of being, he shifted her weight to the arm behind her back and used the hand beneath her knees to twist the knob on the old-fashioned hinged door.
Once inside, upon seeing the empty lobby, he barked, “Yo,” in his usual no-nonsense way. “One of my workers needs to see a doctor, now.”
From the edge of her double vision, Lana saw a figure appear in the open doorway to the back of the clinic. “One of our physics is out today, sir. The other is with another patient. I am in training but proficient in the evaluation and treatment of basic human ailments. If this is satisfactory to you, come this way.”
Despite her fuzzy state, Lana recognized her voice. A wave of apprehension swept through her. “Put me down,” she insisted while twisting to get free.
“No, you’re seeing a medic before going back to work. That’s an order.”
“Fine, then, I quit!”
Shocked, he stopped mid-stride. “What the hell is wrong with you? You practically beg for this job, and now you’re going to toss it away over a simple checkup?”
“I believe I am the reason she is resistant.”
Lana didn’t look up, but she saw when Beck did. “And why would that be?” he asked.
“I’ll leave that for Lana to explain,” she replied.
Feeling sick from more than the dizziness, she swallowed before she looked into blue-green eyes identical to those haunting her dreams.
“Adria,” she murmured. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Too bad I cannot say the same about you,” the dark-haired beauty replied coolly.
Beck’s arms around her tensed. Lana didn’t explain the other woman’s reaction or the frigid cold pervading the room, she was too busy nursing the sting of the harsh words while at the same time hiding the joy of seeing Trask’s sister after so long.
Of course, Adria would be angry. She was a devoted sister, and Lana had hurt her beloved brother. How she’d left things couldn’t go unaddressed, and she blurted out, “I’m sorry. I would have liked the chance to talk to you—”
“Before you abandoned my brother so cruelly? I don’t think a meager ‘I’m sorry’ is sufficient for crushing a warrior’s heart, and wounding his pride, do you?”
“I never intended to do either of those things.”
“But you did. Such action is unpardonable,” she snapped. Then, her eyes, so much like Trask’s it hurt Lana to the bone, narrowed and she demanded icily, “If you've come to grovel or wheedle your way into his good graces, I must insist you stay away. My brother wants, nor needs, any part of your kind.”
She let the insult roll off her back, shocked by what else she had said. “How would I see him? Unless… Do you mean—? Trask is here? On Terra Nova?”
“Where he might be isn’t your concern. He doesn’t need your interference. You’ve already done enough damage already.”
It was true, but it didn’t make the hurt any less to take.
“He is just now starting to act like himself,” Adria went on to say, “after you gutted him and, heartlessly left him to grieve for the female he believed was his lifemate.”
“You know I wasn’t his mate,” she whispered, agonized by hearing how much he had suffered.
“We aren’t all about science and testing, Lana. We have emotions and feelings the same as humans do, and Trask’s were wholly engaged. He bonded with you and thought it was until death. When you left, it was like you’d cut out his heart, you coldblooded bi—
“That is quite enough!” Beck barked with unquestionable authority. “This woman is here as a patient, in need of treatment. If this is your bedside manner young woman, you need to be retrained. Call the doctor or get someone else, now.”
Although he’d interrupted Adria's harangue mid-syllable, Lana had no trouble filling in the blank. She had been a bitch, intentionally so. “Please. I’m feeling better,” she told her friend quietly. “Let’s go.”
“Not until you see a doctor.”
“You are correct, sir,” Adria said in a much softer tone while staring at Beck as though seeing him for the first time. “My outburst was unprofessional.” She glanced down at her hands appearing surprised to find them empty. Now flustered, her eyes darted around the small room, before she rushed to pick up a computer tablet off the counter. “There is no one else available other than me. The only physic on duty is busy with a worker injured by a laser saw, and the two nurses are assisting him.” When she faced them again, she’d seemed to have regained her composure. With her shoulders back, she stood every one of her six feet three inches, and her face was a mask of professionalism. She met Beck’s gaze directly. “I am quite competent, I assure you. Of course, you can wait for our physic, if you’d like. But I can’t say how long he will be.”
“I thought the only physic was available on the Intrepid. Where is Dr. Juna?” Lana asked. She’d be more comfortable with the Odyssey’s physician she’d known for years.
“She has traveled to Primaria to train on a piece of healing equipment our researchers have developed. It isn’t new, but an upgrade to our existing Optimed Healing Accelerator which will expand our cell regeneration beyond flesh wounds and bones. The medical team is very excited about it.”
When she spoke of the technology, animation returned to her lovely face. Adria had an infectious, youthful spark, and once, before everything fell apart, they’d been friends. Lana had missed her, but until now, hadn't realized how much.
“I didn’t understand most of that, but progress is always a good thing.” It felt strange having a conversation while held in someone’s arms.
Adria didn't seem to find it odd, but her gaze drifted to Beck and back, and no longer pale, a rush of color painted her cheeks as if embarrassed by her exuberance.
“I’m sure this is nothing but a passing spell of dizziness,” Lana explained. “But to reassure the overcautious man who toted me in here, please, do the exam yourself.”
Beck grunted softly. “To be overcautious would infer my concern is unnecessary. Since you almost cracked your head open with me as a witness, my concern is not only necessary, but vital. Further, I agree, she may proceed, but only if her obvious personal issues can be set aside, and she can care for you like any other patient coming through her door, whether human or one of her kind.”
Lana looked up sharply at his last remark. He'd misconstrued Adria’s comment, she was sure of it. Unlike some Primarians who were adamantly opposed to the integration of their two species, she had opened her arms and heart to Lana as she would a sister. As thanks, Lana had stomped her welcome flat.
“No, Beck, I don't think—”
“Otherwise,” he continued, speaking over her, “we will wait until one of the other professionals on staff is available.”
“Kincaid,” she snapped, irritated by his overprotective, overbearing manner. He would fit in quite well with any warrior of her acquaintance. “I’m sure that isn't necessary.”
“No, Lana, he is correct. My behavior was inexcusable. But I assure you both, I am in control of my emotions.”
He grunted yet again, making her want to smack him. ““I'll leave it to you to decide, Lana.”
She scowled up at the maddening man. “Gee, thanks, but I thought I already had.”
This earned her a stern look, to which she wisely didn’t reply.
“Please, follow me.”
Adria led them into the back, and Beck didn’t make any move to set her down, his long strides easily keeping pace.
“This is embarrassing. I can walk, you know.”
“Embarrassing is falling flat on your face from passing out, Lana.”
She blew out an exasperated breath but didn’t otherwise reply because they had entered the exam room and he was setting her down on the table.
“You lost consciousness?” Adria asked while entering information into her tablet.
“No, he’s exaggerating. I skipped breakfast, and later, while up on a ladder, moved too quickly and the room spun.”
“Is this the first time?”
“Yes.”
“Could you be breeding?”
She let slip a dry, unamused laugh. “Not unless I’ve been chosen for another immaculate conception.”
Adria angled her head, her smooth perfectly arched brows drawn together. “I don’t understand. I’ve never heard of this kind of conception, and our study of humans has been quite extensive.”
“Bad joke, sorry.”
“It's a good thing I'm in desperate need of painters,” Beck grumbled.
“Why is that?”
“You need your day job,” he answered pointedly, “because your material as a comedian sucks. Be serious.”
She wrinkled her nose at him.
“Does that mean you are impregnated or not?” Adria inquired. “This is your new mate, so there is a chance, isn’t there?”
“No!” they exclaimed at once.
“He’s my boss.”
“She works for me.”
Again, they spoke at the same time.
“We’re friends. Nothing more,” Beck clarified.
“I meant no offense,” Adria replied, her gaze shifting curiously between the two of them. “Pregnancy is always the first thing we suspect when we hear of dizziness in a human female during her childbearing years. Since we've ruled this out, let’s get a basic vital functions scan.”
She withdrew a wand from the pocket of her long tunic worn over a floor-length skirt. No pants allowed off-world for Primarian women, either, Lana surmised. After passing the scanner over her from head to toe, Adria entered something on her tablet and a 3D graphic projected from the screen, which she studied briefly.
“The readings appear to be within HNR,” she announced.
Lana pondered this for a moment, but Beck didn't have the patience.
“And that means what?” he asked.
She looked up. “Sorry. Human Normal Range. Were you dizzy before you passed out? And what about your appetite? You’ll pardon my saying so, but you look terribly thin compared to the last time I saw you. Skipping meals will only make the problem worse.”
Lana grimaced upon hearing the comment on her appearance twice in an hour.
“I apologize for being blunt,” she rushed to explain, “but there is no reason not to be if we are to determine the cause of your dizziness.”
Adria’s gaze swept over her hair, which she’d tied back still wet from the shower that morning. It tended to frizz in the humid Terra Nova air as it dried. Self-consciously, she smoothed the loose tendrils around her face.
“You used to glow. It’s gone now, and your skin is pallid.” She continued her perusal, eyeing her baggy clothes. “Is this the same illness as before, or something new?”
“The dizziness started this morning.”
Never one to hold his piece, her know-it-all boss offered his opinion. “She doesn't eat enough or forgets altogether. How do you forget to eat? When she got dizzy, if I hadn’t been there to catch her, she would have fallen at least six feet.”
Adria’s beautiful aqua gaze met Beck’s for a moment then turned on her. Warm with concern, rather than the icy look that had greeted her, the uncanny resemblance to Trask made Lana’s chest ache, and she had to look away.
“I was a little nauseated this morning and skipped breakfast; it’s nothing, not like before.”
“No migraine headaches, vomiting, or tremors?”
Adria listed off the other debilitating symptoms Lana had suffered with for weeks while on Primaria. They’d subsided, a few weeks after Lana left for Earth on the Odyssey, but she never regained her appetite, or the weight, and had lost a few more since then. She’d told Trask he was the cause, but she didn’t believe it, not really. Stress, guilt, and depression could cause the same symptoms and worse. But she’d grabbed onto any excuse, pouring more salt in his gaping wound, to get him to let her go.
“Nausea can be a symptom of something more serious. I’ll be back to take some blood samples.”
When she left, Lana twisted to confront her friend, but found his eyes locked onto Adria’s retreating form. Her irritation with him suddenly dissipated.
“She’s stunning, isn’t she?” Lana commented wistfully. “But then I haven't seen an unattractive Primarian yet. Even the elders are handsome. Except for their white hair, they don’t seem to age—barely a wrinkle.”
Another reason her decision was sound. As fair skinned as she was and after having worked outside in the dirt digging up rocks and soil samples for so many years, while she dried up like a wrinkled old prune as she aged, Trask would remain youthful and gorgeous. It was a ridiculous excuse, but she often grasped at anything to justify what she'd done.
“How do you know her?”
“You can’t guess? The resemblance is remarkable.”
He shook his head.
“She’s General Trask’s sister.”
“Which explains the cold greeting. I thought they'd made a mistake and stationed one of their Purists amongst us, which would require immediate correction.”
“No, I’m sure her contempt is reserved exclusively for me. She was charming when I arrived on Primaria as if I was…”
“As if you were what?”
“Family,” she whispered. “This snappishness is uncharacteristic, but not unexpected. She adores her brother, and he dotes on her. After his parents died, his mother during their tragedy and his father when he was barely of age, Trask was left to raise her. It wasn’t an uncommon situation after the meteor storm took out half their women.”
“Was she afflicted by the radiation?”
“Yes. And she has vowed never to take a mate. She is one of the few women with a career outside the family business. Since Trask is a warrior and his business is the Army, she could hardly enlist and work for him. When she expressed an interest in the healing arts, he agreed.”
“Their ways take some getting used to, don’t they?”
Her eyes nearly crossed at the absurdity of his question. “Try being captured and mated to one then ask me again.”
He huffed a laugh. “I’ll pass on that, thanks.”
The visual of her very large, very masculine, badass boss as a captive mate, being punished in the traditional Primarian style—bare-assed over an even bigger brute’s knee—was so ridiculous her lips twitched. She'd have to store the image away and haul it out the next time she started weeping inconsolably.
When Adria returned with a large, shiny, device closely resembling a blaster, and approached her with it, Beck moved quickly to her side. “What the hell is that for?” he demanded sharply.
“She doesn’t plan to shoot me.” Although it would be the perfect way to end her misery. Lana didn’t reveal her dismal thoughts, explaining instead, “It’s their way of drawing blood. It’s not nearly as bad as it looks. Trust me, I’ve been through it plenty of times.”
“Like I would shoot one of my patients,” Adria muttered under her breath. She shot him an irritated look as she grasped Lana’s extended arm and held the muzzle-like tip against the bend in her inner elbow. “It’s quite painless compared to your needles, which are simply barbaric.” She gave a delicate shudder. “I can’t imagine.”
When the sample was collected the device beeped. Adria entered something on the touchpad, and, in a few seconds, announced her diagnosis.
“As I suspected, you are dehydrated and malnourished. Both of which can cause dizziness.” She crossed to a cabinet, opened a set of sliding doors revealing shelves brimming with medicine bottles, and grabbed a brown one. “These are iron supplements. You’re to take one a day, but it doesn’t mean you don't have to eat.” Adria passed her the bottle and propped her hands on her hips as she gave the rest of her instructions. “Three meals a day, no more skipping, and before you leave, I’m also going to give you an electrolyte and fluid infusion. I recommend rest for the next few days, which means off your feet, no climbing ladders or hanging from scaffolds or inhaling paint fumes.” Adria aimed a narrow-eyed look her way. “My brother would be livid if he knew you were neglecting your health.”
“I don’t know why.”
A sad expression shadowed her pretty face. “He still worries about you, Lana.”
“He shouldn’t,” she murmured, averting her eyes to hide the sting of tears. “He needs to forget about me and move on.” That’s what her sacrifice was about. If he didn’t, it was all for nothing.
“Finding another female to overshadow the memories of his mate isn’t easy.”
A thought suddenly occurred to her. “You won’t mention this to Trask, will you?”
“Your information will be kept private.”
“Good,” Lana exclaimed as she sat up. “Then we don’t have to worry about him being livid, do we?”
“Only a female’s male relative with authority, whether her father or her mate, has access to the record, and is, naturally, included in all decisions.”
“And does the female mate have access to his health information?”
“Certainly, with his permission.”
Lana rolled her eyes to the ceiling at their one-sided patriarchal beliefs. “Good thing this is an Earth colony, and not Primaria, so we don’t have to worry about that either way.”
Adria inclined her head, showing tacit agreement. “You really do need to take better care of yourself, Lana.” Her eyes shifted to Beck. “As her boss, can you keep her from working for the next few days?”
“Absolutely.”
“Kincaid!”
Adria grinned. “Can you also ensure she eats three balanced meals a day, and gets plenty of fluids and rests when she’s not in your employ?”
“As her boss, probably not, but as her friend I can, if I have to tie her down and bust her butt for being noncompliant.”
Mouth rounded in surprise, she turned to Lana. “Why he’s as bossy and dictatorial as a Primarian Warrior. If your men are like this, why were some of your females so outraged over being treated the same way by ours?”
“He’s a rare breed in our world. It's called being a Neanderthal, and it’s worse with him because he was born and bred in Texas which means he got a double dose of dominance. If he wasn’t so good-looking, he’d never get away with it.”
Adria aimed her stunning aquamarine eyes at Beck with renewed interest.
He propped his fisted hands on his hips and blew out a loud breath, the very image of tried patience. “I don’t know about looks, but I do know this bossy earthman is tired of being talked about like he isn’t here. Are you done with her, Doc?”
“Oh, no. I’m not a doctor. Not yet. And there is the infusion to see to first.”
“When you’re finished, I’ll take her home and set about making her follow those instructions.”
The infusion took only minutes. Once Adria announced she was free to leave, he pulled a Trask-like move and scooped her up in his arms. She protested his every step although it did her no good because he still carried her out of the clinic, down the busy main street, and all the way to her apartment.
***
Lana may have been too busy arguing with her overprotective boss to notice the man standing on the corner across the street, but he didn’t miss her presence. Preparing to check in with his sister and let her know their departure would be delayed a few hours, Trask paused to let a solar craft glide by before stepping into the muddy road.
After it had passed, he caught sight of a fair-haired woman. With the influx of human mates on Primaria, it was a common sight, but on Terra Nova, which was populated almost entirely by men, a female was an oddity. Upon closer look, he saw skin as smooth as fresh cream, and a mouth with a delicate bow in the center of the upper lip. Trask blinked, disbelieving his eyes, but he couldn't deny who she was when her voice carried across the street to him. The words were indecipherable, but the slightly husky tone made his insides clench in pain.
His focus switched to the man carrying Lana down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Tall, broad-shouldered, with thick, brawny arms, if not for the man’s short gold-streaked hair and the light skin tone which declared him human, he would have charged after them and demanded to know which of his warriors dared touch his mate.
He could only stare after them, however, accosting innocent citizens on the street wasn’t condoned even here in this frontier world. Instead, he stared after them, his insides churning with anguish which never quite went away but always simmered below the surface. A multitude of questions burned the tip of his tongue. Why was she here on the colony planet and not on Earth? Had she already moved on, found another mate, who had been assigned here to work?
He swayed on his feet as the possibility of that hit home. It had been months since he’d seen her last, and it had come as a shock. Beautiful as ever, and braver than he could have imagined, they’d found her wriggling through the ventilation ducts of the Denastrian ship—Ram’s infant daughter safe in her arms—while she single-handedly orchestrated their own rescue. His warriors had only to clean up the unconscious frogmen from the gas pallet his mate had deployed.
Afterward, with the intensity and danger of the successful mission still firing their blood, he and Lana had shared a passionate kiss. Hope of ending their estrangement had surged within him, but she would not be deterred from returning to the colony, and ultimately going back to Earth.
What had changed? Was this human male the reason she’d stayed?
Since then, without her, time had dragged by like an eternity. But seeing her now, it seemed like only yesterday when she had walked away from him. It had been months, but for him still much too soon to contemplate replacing her with another. He’d heard some humans discarded one partner and took another in half as much time. A callous unthinkable mating behavior to a Primarian, but to Lana, it might be commonplace.
“And they call us barbarians,” he muttered.
He had to know if it was true.
His gaze shifted to the building they had exited, and he stalked determinedly across the street, barely cognizant of the passing vehicles, some of which had to veer sharply to avoid him. His long strides gobbled up the distance, and in seconds he slammed through the glass doors.
“Adria!” he shouted.
When she didn’t immediately reply, he followed it up with a bellow. “Sister!”
She appeared from the rear of the clinic a moment later, a startled expression on her features as she searched him, in a quick up-and-down body scan, then glanced around the entry area where he stood.
“Trask, are you hurt?”
“No. I need answers.”
Her hand flew to her chest. “You frightened me. I thought someone was injured or dying.” Her concern promptly faded, replaced by an angry glare. “Don’t come into a medical facility shouting if it’s not urgent, brother. Good gracious, I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”
“Was that Lana I saw leaving?”
She blinked. “Yes.”
“She was injured?” he demanded.
“No, only suffering a minor ailment, but I really can’t say—”
“A minor ailment required she be carried out of here?”
“No, Mr. Kincaid was just being cautious—”
“Beckett Kincaid?” He'd met the man—young, powerfully built, intelligent. The city planner/construction company owner was one of the few human males he’d met who came close to looking him in the eye. Jealousy surged inside him as well as a burning need to separate the man’s head from his shoulders.
Adria, obviously suspecting where his thoughts had gone, explained quickly, “He is her employer. She became ill at work. He brought her here for treatment and was seeing her safely home. That is all.”
“What illness?”
“I’m not allowed to say.”
“She’s my mate,” he insisted sharply. “I have every right to know.”
An awkward silence encompassed the small entryway. It was a moment before she answered. “As Lana recently reminded me, you aren’t mates any longer, Trask. I’m sorry. I cannot say.”
The pounding in his head kept time with the dull thud of his heart. The pressure steadily built until he thought he might explode. Then, with a furious, frustrated growl, he stormed out, and it was by sheer force of will he left all the walls intact when he went.
***
Standing in the shadows of a half-constructed building on the opposite end of the street, another man watched Lana's progression down the muddy, rut-ridden road. Hands clenched into fists, he shook with silent outrage.
What was she doing here?
He thought he'd made sure she was gone for good, but here she was on this insufferably hot, primitive planet. It angered him to have to be here amid these humans, an inferior sub-species to be sure. But the path toward acceptance of the earth creatures had been cleared despite his best efforts—all furtive, without his direct involvement, of course.
Though he’d used extreme caution, he spent the largest part of the past year severing connections with the Purist sect and covering his tracks. If anyone learned of his role in the plot to stop this interspecies breeding abomination, he would be exiled, or worse. Capital punishment still existed under Primarian law, although a sentence hadn’t been handed down in centuries. Reserved for the vilest of crimes—treason, assassination, or an attempt on the life of the Princep, and the same for his anticipated successor, the Primmum Ectus—it could well become his fate because he was guilty of all three.
And with the return of the general’s female, he was closer to that fate. As he watched the human male carrying her, his fury mounted.
Faex!
She couldn’t have popped up at a worse time, not with the Princep assigning Trask not only to oversee security of the new Earth colony, but to lead the joint council. He would be here more often. The risk of them coming together and potentially finding out what had contributed to their separation was too great.
If the general learned he was involved, he would break him like a twig. It would be a quick end, but he wasn’t ready to meet the Maker. Nor was he prepared to stand trial, which is what he could expect if anyone didn’t intervene. Her testimony could impugn his claims of innocence. He couldn’t allow it. She was the key to his downfall and would have to be taken care of permanently, and the time for that was now.