Blazing Page 11

  Sarsen kept kissing her, his tongue demanding entry, and she yielded. It was a fight for domination, and she lost, but she didn’t mind.

  She pulled away, a hand covering her swollen lips. The kiss wasn’t good. It was amazing. Fucking amazing.

  “Asche said I had to accept all of you or none of you,” Lucie said when she finally found her voice.

  Sarsen growled and dropped her to the floor.

  Right. What the hell crawled up his butt?

  Sarsen

  His brother—

  Sarsen struggled to finish the thought. His evidence was on his lips and flooding his mouth. Underneath Lucie’s sweet taste was the taste of his brother. More than casual contact. More than the gentle touches and embraces he witnessed her giving out without hesitation, but not to him.

  Last night, he had turned the battle against the ferix into triumph. Ertale had been overwhelmed and lost ground. Only his blade assured victory. Yet when the ferix were slain, Lucie turned to Ertale and ignored him. She’d stayed in Ertale’s arms all night.

  The truth of the matter was that she preferred his brothers.

  That was not how a triad functioned.

  She didn’t think of him when she consumed his thoughts. And to find her in Sheenika’s room—

  Rage surged. He had gone so long being numb to everything that any emotion threatened to overwhelm him, and Lucie did not inspire gentle or kind emotions in his heartstone. Passionate, yes. Possessive, yes. Patient… Not so much.

  Sarsen found Asche with ease. They had always been connected. Asche’s location was always fixed in his mind, like an extension of himself. Nothing had come between them in a thousand years. Sarsen was more connected to Asche and Ertale than he had been to his original triad.

  He had not thought of them in many seasons. They had not survived the transformation into Fire Valos. At the time, Sarsen did not want to survive losing them. He feared being left alone. It had been for the best. They would not have survived the loss of freedom. Better to have been dead than half-alive and numb, they would say.

  They were gone, and Sarsen was alive. Painfully so. He’d forged a new triad with Asche and Ertale. They kept each other propped up, even without a mate to bind them together. He had not thought about taking a mate in more than a hundred seasons. Females also survived the transformation, but mating lost its appeal when their heartstones were withdrawn. He had been numb to that joy.

  Not so anymore.

  He was far from numb. His senses buzzed with new information about the human female: her scent, how her eyes sparked, the way she lifted her chin when she was stubborn, and the way she looked at his brothers with passion while ignoring him.

  Asche carried bandages and a pot of ointment. Somehow the fool had allowed their bond mate to become injured—again—in the brief time she was under his care that day.

  “Ho, Sarsen,” the fool said, a smile on his face.

  So many tumultuous thoughts swirled inside Sarsen. Lucie’s lips held her sweetness and just the faintest whisper of Asche. She was injured yet again. She had been in the room that Sheenika used to contact her people before leaving. Lucie demanded a reason to stay. She planned to leave; wanted to leave. She clung to Ertale and had not seen him with the defeated ferix at his feet. Finally, Asche smelled of her musk. The emotions churned, demanding release, so he did the first thing that felt natural.

  He punched Asche in the face. “You did not wait for her to accept us!”

  Asche stumbled back but, to his credit, he did not fall. The items destined for their mate clattered to the ground. He rubbed his jaw, stunned. “Jealous?”

  Yes. That was the name for the terrible inferno inside him.

  He growled.

  Asche held up a hand. “I will not fight you, brother.”

  “You are not my brother! You are selfish and impulsive.” And he stank of her. Never in his long life had he smelled something so divine, and he fought the urge to lick his brother’s finger clean.

  So he gave into the urge to hit Asche again.

  The other male was not a warrior. He dodged but moved too slowly. Sarsen swept wide with one arm to distract and hit low with the other. It felt good to punish Asche, so he hit again. Each blow relieved the pressure inside his chest.

  Strong arms clamped around Sarsen and pulled him off. He did not have to turn to know it was Ertale who held him. “Do not think you’ve escaped my wrath,” Sarsen said, kicking backward and encountering the solid trunks that served as Ertale’s legs, the hulk. “Just because you can’t talk doesn’t mean you’re not part of this.”

  “Do not yell at Ertale. Just because you upset our bond mate every time you open your mouth, does not mean you can take your anger out on us,” Asche spat.

  “Then what does it mean, Asche? What does it mean that you smell of her musk and her lips taste of you? Tell me what that means.”

  Asche’s brow rose. “You kissed her?”

  His brother’s tone of admiration soothed his heartstone. “Lucie wanted a reason to stay.”

  Ertale rumbled with soundless laughter.

  “Put me down,” Sarsen snapped, credibility gone. “It’s not that funny.”

  Asche held out a hand, palm up, in peace. “It was not my intent to cause jealousy. Lucie was… unaware of our bond or the customs of our people. I illuminated her.”

  “You touched her!” Jealousy surged again. It burned in his chest, leaving him brittle and bitter.

  “But I did not kiss her. Nor have I shared her bed.” Asche’s gaze landed on Ertale for a brief moment. “We have all shared unique experiences with our bond mate.”

  The urge to fight left Sarsen. His sagged against Ertale, who set his feet down on the ground. “What do we do?”

  “We wait for our bond mate to accept all of us.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lucinda

  Lucie could only describe the situation as tense. Asche made it clear that her remaining in the City in the Caldera wasn’t tied to sex. The valos didn’t expect sex as payment for food and shelter, so there was that.

  But Sarsen kissed her, and she liked it. She really, really liked it.

  Hell, getting down and dirty with the valos didn’t seem that strange. Sure, they were alien. Sure, they had flaming swords and threw fireballs. She was just as alien and strange from their point of view. Plus, she liked them. She really did. Ertale was sweet, Asche found marvels in the world to share, and Sarsen made her feel more alive than she had in years. When she’d arrived on the Concord, she’d shut down. Focused on survival and buying her brother’s non-murder with her compliance in the lab, she didn’t really live.

  But there were survivors out there and they would want to be rescued. It’d been a week since the crash. They would need food, shelter, and medical care. The valos could offer the survivors that, if she asked. Lucie brushed her finger over her lips and tried not to think too much about what the price would be.

  Why would she even ask? The survivors probably hated her, especially if Lydia or Amber were in the group. If they didn’t spit in her face, they’d murder her in her sleep. No joke. She might technically be a murderer but she never killed anyone in cold blood. She wasn’t being honest about the situation if she pretended that it would be all rainbows and sunshine if the survivors come to the City in the Caldera. They were bad people who did very bad things.

  Right now she was safe and comfortable with her guys, who she genuinely liked. Why risk all that? But her mind kept circling back to the idea of finding the survivors and she finally recognized the feeling churning in her gut: guilt.

  She wanted to find them and save them not for any altruistic reasons. She wasn’t that good a person, but she did want to be a better person and that was the truth.

  Find them.

  Help them.

  Be a better person than she was on Earth.

  They’d still spit in her face and murder her in her sleep, though.

  The battered radio
from the ship was well and truly dead. Between the clubbing, the short circuit, and her tantrum the previous day, the radio suffered irreparable damage. Even if she found a magic alien toolkit, she couldn’t fix the radio, not without replacement parts.

  Amber might, though, if she survived. On the Concord, Amber had been a prisoner, but Lucie had seen her often enough repairing consoles and other equipment. The Concord staff wasn't about to let free labor go unused.

  Lucie acquainted herself with the equipment in the room. It was a communication center, as far as she could tell. The control board came alive with a touch, but she was unable to determine any commands.

  “Computer, wake up,” she said. “Computer, are you on?” No answer. Not voice activated.

  Lucie spent the following day playing with the equipment. She accessed a menu. Unable to read anything on the screen, the menu could have been commands or communication channels or cookie recipes. She had no way of knowing.

  With a sigh, Lucie slouched in the too-tall chair. Why was she trying so hard to go home? She was a criminal. She’d only go back to jail. Maybe, if she was very lucky—and frankly, she wasn’t—she might be able to scratch one or two more names off her list. It’d be satisfying, yes, but was that enough?

  Enough to risk her brother being hurt as a punishment for her? That had been the deal, after all. Be a good prisoner, do as you’re told and Antony got to live a long, healthy life. Fight back, cause trouble... Well, she never had the nerve to risk it. Did she have the nerve now? Years of torture on the Concord blurred the line between acceptable risk and crazy talk.

  A creature howled in the distance. Lucie flinched. The City in the Caldera was silent and dead, outside of the occasional lava monster attack. The city was both luxurious and dangerous. She couldn’t stay here, not when Sarsen hated her.

  But she couldn’t figure out how to operate the device to contact Earth. She was a biochemist, after all. For crying out loud, she did pharmacological research. Fiddling with computers and interfaces was so far beyond her. Amber, though—

  If Amber had survived, she might be able to figure out how to use the communication array.

  The idea didn’t suck. Lucie pictured the faces of the bodies pulled from the wreckage. Even soot covered, none of them had Amber’s short blonde hair.

  Footsteps on the stairs. Lucie rushed to the stairwell. Sarsen climbed up, a hard look on his face. She figured he must have been in the mood for another argument or a kiss. It was so difficult to read him.

  “I want to look for survivors,” she said, calling down to him.

  “We did that. There were none.” He frowned.

  “That was the wreckage. I mean the group that left the crash site. They went into the forest.” Halliday had said some survivors had ventured out before she woke. “They’re starving, and cold, and need medical care.”

  “You do not know that.”

  “Everything on this planet thinks humans are good for snacking. Believe me, I know it.”

  He paused, one hand on the railing. His eyes flashed a sultry red in the half light of the stairwell. “And what do you suggest?”

  “We bring them food and supplies. Invite them back here. We have the space.” That was a terrible idea but it sounded good. The survivors were prisoners, guilty of horrendous crimes—no matter how they claimed innocence— and most thought Lucie was a traitor. They’d be as likely to stab her in the back as accept any offer of rescue. Still, it sounded like something a kind person would say and hopefully it would persuade Sarsen. She’d never find Amber without his help and he would never help her if he knew the reason why she needed Amber.

  Lucie held her breath while he considered. “And if we cannot spare food and water?”

  She turned back to the packs resting on the console. “I have a backpack full of medicine. We can leave it with them. Please.”

  Sarsen finished the climb up the stairs and inspected the pack. Inside he’d find pill bottles and all the items she’d stolen from the supply closet. “You carried this the entire time? When you knew your people were injured and needed it?”

  She blushed, momentarily embarrassed. “I needed it to barter. Seemed smart to have something to trade.”

  “Your people would not help if you did not have trade?” He brought the pack to her. Heat rolled off his body but he moved no closer to her.

  “Not all. Some. Maybe. Look, humans aren’t perfect, and I was trying to be smart in a crisis situation.” She grabbed the bag from him. He crossed his arms over his chest, listening. It was better he thought her selfish than deceptive, but she didn’t like the look of disappointment in his eyes and she didn’t really know why. “I want to bring them here, okay, for nothing. Out of the kindness of my heart. And if these meds—” She rattled the bag. “—make it easier to convince them that a city inside a volcano is safer than roughing it in the woods, then so be it. I’m not too proud to offer a bribe.”

  Sarsen’s face was a blank. She shifted nervously from foot to foot. That wasn’t right. Sarsen frowned or scowled or yelled. He was never just… passive. It was weird and wrong.

  Then he did the most unexpected thing: he nodded. “Agreed. Let us find your missing humans.”

  “Seriously?” She stood still, afraid to move, lest he change his fickle mind.

  “We leave at first light.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sarsen

  Fire Valos did not require sleep. Sarsen’s days—or rather, nights—of slumber were long past him. If his Lucie wished to send them on a fool’s quest to find more humans, he would not argue. She either asked to assuage guilt or she had another purpose. Time would tell, and he had much practice letting time pass. The heartstones in the vault flickered with faint life. Either they could be revived or they could not. A few more days waiting would make little difference.

  Lucie walked with purpose and did not waste time gawking at the landscape. When he called a stop to rest, she insisted on continuing without a break. Rain fell, steaming as it landed on his heated skin, and still she refused to stop. Sarsen could not decide if she refused to rest because she was anxious to find the rest of her humans or if she resisted because he’d suggested it. The stubborn female only agreed to a brief pause at Asche’s insistence.

  Sarsen focused on finding the human’s trail rather than the preference his Lucie displayed to Asche. Jealousy was new to him, and he did not like it one bit. It sat hard and heavy in his chest, cold and burning all at once.

  They reached the remains of the wreckage by late morning. From there, picking out their trail proved easy. The humans trampled through the vegetation and littered the ground with their alien rubbish. Emergency supplies, Lucie called them. Finding them was as simple as following the trail of discarded food wrappers.

  Lucinda

  So, the situation with the survivors didn’t look good. Disastrous was the most accurate way to describe it.

  Even surrounded by her valos, every noise in the forest made her jump. Having a dagger attached to her belt gave her a sense of security, even if she couldn’t use it. How hard was it to use a knife? Stab. If that didn’t work, stab some more.

  Just past midday they reached the survivors’ camp, but calling it a camp was being generous. A fire burned in a small clearing, but they had no tents or any shelter. People were tucked into the roots of the massive trees. Clearly they’d used the trees as a lean-to, but where were the tents, the blankets and the field rations? Assuming the Concord even had those supplies. They had no food and no water filtration system. The faces that stared back at her were filthy and angry. She did not recognize anyone from any procedures she participated in, but judging from their fierce glares, they recognized her.

  They whispered just loud enough for Lucie to catch snippets as she walked past, all of it rude.

  Parading through with a full belly, no obvious injuries, and a strappy white dress didn’t help. Oh, and three local men to carry her luggage. Fuck. There was no way for he
r not to look like an ass in this scenario.

  “I don’t understand,” Lucie said, walking through the camp.

  “What don’t you understand, Lucky? That none of us are equipped for camping?” Amber strode forward, confidence in her every step. Despite her rags and the ugly gash across her left cheek, she radiated control. The situation was savage, and Amber had risen to the challenge, meeting it with her own savagery.

  “You have nothing.” Lucie waved a hand vaguely. The survivors didn’t have a pot to piss in.

  “Yeah, well that’s what happens when you crash through a wormhole. The luggage tends to go missing.”

  “Is that what happened?”

  Amber shrugged as if the conversation bored her. “Who are they?”

  “Friends.”

  “Getting cozy with the natives, are ya?”

  Lucie’s back went up at Amber’s tone. The whole situation was getting off on the wrong foot. “Look, I have food. Let’s eat, okay? Then we can trade stories.”

  Lucie was half afraid that Amber would spit on her offer of food, but hunger won out. She nodded.

  “It’s mostly fruit.” Lucie waved to Asche, who carefully emptied a bag’s contents onto a blanket near the fire. “It’s all safe for humans. Have you figured out what you can eat yet?”

  Someone curled up in a tree’s roots laughed. “No, but everything around here can eat us.”

  Lucie settled down on her own blanket, ready to play picnic with people who hated her.

  Amber narrowed her eyes. “How do we know this hasn’t been poisoned?”

  “Really? I spent the entire day walking just to poison you?” If Lucie wanted them dead, she’d do nothing. The forest animals were doing a fine job eradicating them on their own. “Pick one. I’ll eat it.”