Delivery (Star Line Express Romance Book 3) Read online

  I’d rather not know the details.

  And I hope to hell that Aymee never makes good on her threats to Nik, although I admit that I’d love to see her try to get his hand to rot off, à la Joston Parst, and I say so to Niya, who tells me to shut the fuck up. Don’t I know when I’m witnessing a miracle?

  “Don’t babies get born every day?” I say.

  “That doesn’t make it any less of a miracle,” Lasson says.

  It’s very quiet. Aymee has stopped screaming. Chlo has stopped encouraging her. I just landed a transport raft on the roof of the Engra Palace and we’ve barely escaped with our lives, but this silence is terrifying me.

  Breaking the void, a new, different sound arises: “Waaaaaa!”

  A wave of fear, relief, and love pours through me. I reach for Niya’s hand and we hold on to each other.

  “It is a miracle,” I say, whispering into her ear.

  Then I slip my arm around her waist and hold her to me. Over her head I see Lasson wipe the tears from his eyes, and it’s only then that I sense my own tears.

  It is a miracle.

  And it’ll be another miracle if we can get out of here before it’s too late.

  Chapter 20

  Niya

  Nik’s holding Aymee and their new baby girl, the two parents staring at their baby like they’ve never seen a baby before. I’d think that was odd, except I notice that I’m staring too. So is everyone.

  So much so that we miss the troopers’ approach.

  “What’s going on here?” says a fierce-looking guy who’s wielding one of those combination bludgeon–mini laser cannons. His cohort is shining a powerful light right into Aymee’s eyes.

  “Stop that!” Chlo says. “Can’t you see she just gave birth?”

  “Why aren’t you at the birthing center?” says the fierce guy’s partner, who’s only about 2 percent less fierce-seeming.

  “We couldn’t make it there,” Nik says. “Emergency.”

  “You picked a helluva night to have an emergency,” the fierce guy says. “Vren, find out where the nearest center is. We’ll escort you.”

  Vren pulls out one of those all-in-one devices the troopers carry and starts his search. I know exactly where such a center is but I don’t say anything. Chlo knows too.

  “Say,” the fierce guy says while he moves his light around, illuminating each of our faces in turn, “I recognize you.” His light’s on Lasson, who shields his eyes.

  “Doubtful,” Lasson says.

  “It’s—” Vren starts to say, but just then his cohort shines his light on Chlo, and my fear rises another ten degrees. Her face is well known on Engra—there are images of every exile in all the public buildings, and Chlo has a very distinctive look, with her bright green eyes and mop of orange hair.

  “Say, Bruck,” Vren says to his nasty partner, “forget that rich guy. This is Chlo Nightbird.” Vren turns his light up brighter, nearly blinding Chlo.

  “Vren, I think you’re right,” says Bruck, who taps his bludgeon onto the side of his leg. “Yeah, I do think you’re right.”

  Chlo stands up, about to speak, but Lasson interrupts her. “Chlo Nightbird is my life mate,” Lasson says. “As such, she’s protected under the laws of Choryn.”

  “You think we give a damn about the laws of that shit planet?” Vren says. “What, are you going to threaten to disintegrate our hands?” He and Bruck laugh, like this is the funniest thing either of them has ever said, this reference to that scene in Joston Parst.

  Lasson steps forward, joined by Joston, then Nik, who has to untangle himself from Aymee and their baby girl. The three males are pretty formidable, confronting only two. But they’re two mean, belligerent, determined Engra troopers. No telling what they might do.

  “I’m sure we can work everything out,” Lasson says. “I was just at the palace this afternoon.”

  “Aiding and abetting an exile?” Bruck says. “Vren, get out the cuffs.”

  “Surely there must be a better solution than this,” Nik says. He’s still teary-eyed from watching his daughter’s birth, but, along with Lasson and Joston, he looks like he’s ready to kill these two troopers if the need arises.

  And maybe the need has already arisen.

  “Oh, there’s quite a fine solution,” Vren says. “As every exile knows.”

  As every Engra knows. They mean that Chlo will be executed—I can’t stand to think of how they’ll do it—thereby stopping her from ever again returning to Engra . . . alive.

  I see Joston’s hand on the back of his waistband, going for a weapon, and I hiss out a warning. If he uses the firepulse, we’ll be in even worse trouble than we’re already in.

  Especially now that five other troopers have arrived.

  “Well, Bruck, what have we got here?” says the brutish giant who’s apparently in charge.

  “Sir,” Bruck says, “we’ve apprehended Chlo Nightbird.”

  Behind us, the baby starts wailing.

  “Get that baby out of here,” says the leader. “Immediately.”

  Nik, Joston, and Lasson exchange quick glances before Nik says, “Sir, do we have permission to depart? Our transport raft’s at the airfield now.”

  “And who the hell are you?” the leader says.

  “First Officer Niklas Arca of the Star Line Express freighter Marinax,” Nik says. “And that’s my wife and baby.” He turns around and looks at Aymee, who’s sitting half in, half out of the s-car, clutching their new baby to her chest.

  “From the Big World, are you?” Vren says as he flips through the data he’s been referencing.

  “Yes, sir,” Nik says.

  “Let them go,” the leader says.

  “But, sir,” Bruck says. “Aiding and abetting.”

  “That’s a baby, you idiot,” the leader says as Nik and Aymee’s baby wails louder.

  “Yes, sir,” says Bruck.

  “And as much as I’d like to parade this guy”—the leader sneers at Nik—“out in the front lines and let the rebels work out their misguided anger on him, you might recall that we have a current treaty with the Big World.”

  “I’d forgotten, sir,” Bruck says, for the first time looking a little less fierce.

  “Get out of here,” the leader says to Nik. “Go back to the Marinax and take your wife and baby with you.”

  “Sir, just let all of us go,” Nik says, doing his best to act conciliatory.

  “Now,” the leader says, “before I change my mind.”

  “Do it, Nik,” I say. “Think about Aymee and the baby.”

  Aymee grabs my hand. “I won’t leave everyone here.”

  “I’m afraid you have no choice,” the guy in charge says to Aymee.

  “Let our friends come back with us,” Aymee says, still trying for the impossible. The baby is suddenly quiet.

  “You’re Engra,” the leader says, pointing his bludgeon at me. “This is your home. You have no business on the Marinax. Go back to your home and leave this matter to the authorities.”

  “Come on, Niya,” Joston says. “Let’s go home. We’ll straighten this out in the morning.”

  “Not so fast, fella,” says the leader. “You’re no Engra. You’re Chorynean. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “He’s here with his life mate,” says Ozker as he runs out to the alley where our horror show is playing out. He must have caught sight of us on the perimeter cameras.

  “An Engra who mated with a Chorynean?” Bruck looks sick to his stomach.

  “It’s not against the law,” I say, wondering how the hellish fuck Ozker thought of saying that Joston was my life mate. But it was the best thing he could have said, because the troops are now letting us go.

  “You two,” the leader says to Nik and Aymee, “take your overly loud baby, get in your transport, and get the hell out of here. Don’t come back.”

  Nik nods, but I also see him pass a glance to both Lasson and Joston. The three friends have spent a lot of time toge
ther on the Marinax and they don’t need words to communicate effectively. I wonder if they’ve already considered the possibility of a similar situation and know what to do.

  Nik and Aymee, holding the baby, head for the airfield.

  “You two,” the leader says, snarling at me and Joston, “get in your s-car and go to your happy little home and never have contact with any of these criminals again.”

  I want to argue, but Joston puts his arm around me and says, “Don’t you think we’ve had enough excitement for one night? Let’s go home, darling.”

  I feel like kicking him, but I don’t, because I realize our only hope is to get through this moment and fix everything afterward. Assuming there is an afterward for Chlo . . . and for Lasson, because as Joston and I get in Ozker’s s-car, I hear Vren saying, “Sir, this is the Chorynean agitator Lasson Birtak. He’s the one who’s behind the rebellion.”

  “Nonsense,” says Lasson as the troopers lead him and Chlo into their waiting van.

  Joston reaches up to close the hatch of Ozker’s s-car, and I say, “Don’t you even think of leaving them here like this.”

  Chapter 21

  Joston

  I can see what a difficult time I’m going to have with my new life mate, courtesy of her flight controller pal Ozker. I’m not sure whether the next time I see him I’m going to thank him for saving our lives or wring his neck for saying I’m mated to Niya.

  Niya’s nearly impossible to reason with. Can’t she see that there’s nothing we can do right now with seven huge troopers ready to blast us all into atomic particles and no place to escape to?

  I tell her this as I drive away from the airfield.

  “We’re escaping right now,” Niya says. “Why couldn’t we have taken Chlo and Lasson with us?”

  “Niya, getting Chlo and Lasson to your house isn’t going to help them. We have to get them off this frightening world you live on.”

  “Don’t blame me for it!” she says. “I didn’t invent Engra.”

  I speed toward her house. Since I’ve already been there once, I know just how to get there without any directions. One of my many piloting skills. Once I’ve been somewhere, I know how to get there without any maps.

  Even though the palace grounds and the airfield were lit up, the rest of Engra is pitch-black. Everyone’s probably playing it safe, acting like they don’t know what’s happening, like they’re not part of the rebellion. Like they’d never be part of the rebellion. Even though they probably all want to be.

  “Pull over,” Niya says when we’re a couple of blocks away from her place.

  I do, and we both look at each other and simultaneously say, “Aeryen.”

  “I left him on the Marinax,” Niya says.

  “I figured,” I say.

  She reaches out for my hand, and I take it in mine. “It’s okay, Niya, really. Draybirge will take care of him. And Nik and Aymee will be there soon too.”

  “But, Joston,” Niya says, “I may never get him back. I may be stuck here on Engra while he’s stuck on the Marinax.”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?” I say.

  “No!” she says.

  “Oh,” I say. “I forgot. We were all going to go live in the lousy Triangulum together.”

  “Joston!” Niya says. “This is no time for sarcasm. My kid is on the Marinax, I’m stuck here, and the only other being who can really take care of him properly—Chlo, who, by the way, is my dearest friend—is about to be executed.”

  “I know,” I say. “I know. But we’ll fix it. Things are never as bad as they look.”

  “Why did Ozker have to go and say you were my life mate?”

  “Well,” I say, “now that you mention it, maybe they are as bad as they look.”

  “Is everything a joke to you?” Niya says. Her eyes have turned deep, dark violet, as if I needed any help discerning just how pissed off she is. And afraid.

  “Jokes make dangerous situations seem . . . less dangerous,” I say. Often they do. But maybe not tonight.

  “Joston, I want to go home,” Niya says. “I want to go home, turn back the clock to yesterday, take back everything I’ve done, and—”

  “You have a time travel device?” I say. “Hell, Niya, why didn’t you say so? This makes everything so much easier.”

  “I told you to stop joking!” Niya says, and I sense she means it this time. She actually meant it the last time too. I just ignored her.

  “How would that help Lasson?” I say. “He still would have been at the palace and they obviously think he’s somehow responsible for the rebellion.”

  “But—”

  “And if you would be able to take back everything you’ve done, we wouldn’t be able to rescue him now. Think of that.”

  “Joston, I want to go home,” Niya says again. “I’m unbearably tired.”

  I’m unbearably something else entirely, but with the mess we’re in, I feel this is a poor time to mention it, so I don’t. Instead, I drive us back to her house, go into the kitchen with her, where we each drink about a gallon of water, then throw myself on her couch while she goes into her bedroom.

  I lie here for a few minutes, wondering how the fuck I’m ever going to get to sleep, which I need, since I do my best planning while I’m asleep. And we need a gigantic plan if we’re going to get Lasson and Chlo out of this mess.

  But it’s not just that my conscious mind won’t shut off. Nothing will shut off.

  Which is why, when my new life mate, dressed only in something that looks like a sheer scarf wrapped around her fabulous curves, comes out to her living room and sits down on the couch beside me, I don’t waste any time.

  I sit up and kiss her on her neck, then her earlobe, which I bite. Then my mouth is on hers and our tongues are warring with each other, seeing who has the stronger passion. I’m hoping to lose this fight.

  “Joston,” she says when she comes up for air. “I came out here to talk.”

  “Talk all you want,” I say as I rip the scarf off her. It disintegrates in my hands. This is not what someone who wants to talk would be wearing. Or not wearing.

  “Joston,” she says as she climbs onto my lap, but I immediately flip her over. I need to feel her under me.

  I part the folds of her sex with one hand, supporting myself on the other arm.

  “You don’t feel like someone who wants to talk,” I say. She’s sopping wet.

  “You’re talking,” she says, and I notice that she’s right. I slip my cock into her and she clenches me tight inside her.

  “I’m going to fuck you all night,” I say.

  Slick sweat’s already covering both of us. “That’s what we do on Choryn on the night we consummate our match.”

  “Joston,” she says, “you realize Ozker made that up, don’t you?”

  “Do I?” I say as I burrow farther into her.

  She puts her arms around my neck and I fold my arms under her waist, pulling her to me, pulling myself as far into her as I can.

  “I need you,” I say into her ear, and then, caught up in this moment of runaway passion, I say the one thing I’ve never said to anyone: “I love you.”

  Niya

  “I love you,” Joston says as our movements take me past anything my body, my soul, has ever experienced.

  “Don’t stop,” I say.

  Do I mean he shouldn’t stop loving me or that he shouldn’t stop making love to me? I don’t know. I don’t care. I don’t want to care.

  “Never,” Joston says. “Niya, I’ll never stop.”

  Then he takes his arms out from around my waist, braces himself, lifts up his torso, and looks down at me, his keen yellow eyes almost translucent in the dark.

  “Don’t ask me to stop,” he says, “because I won’t. It’s impossible.”

  “What are you talking about?” I say. I need to know if this is just sex talk or if this is real. I can’t tell.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Joston says as he lowe
rs himself again.

  Beads of perspiration drip from his neck and chest onto my chest and in an instant we’re simply fucking, giving and taking without thought or design, our need for each other reaching new levels of desperation every moment.

  Just when I think I can’t stand it anymore and that I’m about to come, Joston changes something and I have to fight to regain that place, those sensations.

  “Don’t you dare stop,” I say. “Ever. Ever. Ever.”

  Joston

  “Never,” I say as I feel Niya starting to flutter beneath me. As much as I want tonight to go on forever, I find myself losing control this time, falling into the dark violet depths of Niya’s eyes, of her soul.

  “Yes,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her. Our hips pick up into a wild tempo, both of us needing this release, each of us urging the other on.

  “Yes,” she says. “Joston.”

  Then her entire being trembles into a forceful shudder and I hear a voice that sounds just like my own as it grunts out its burst of desire. The two of us quake together, as though we planned this, and our mouths find each other and say the wordless words that every lover knows.

  When we’re spent, Niya falls asleep, resting on my shoulder. I hold her close. If we really were life mates we could hold on to each other every night, I think. But we’re not. It’s a story made up by Niya’s friend in the control room—Ozker, who may have saved our lives.

  In the morning we must save two more lives: Chlo’s and Lasson’s.

  But right now, I’ll hold Niya close and let my sleeping mind work out how to accomplish the impossible.

  My mind’s never failed me yet, and I don’t expect it to now.

  Chapter 22

  Niya

  It’s the blue rain, which happens a couple of times a decade on Engra. I hear it before I see it, but even its sound is distinctive.

  I’m lying in Joston Lynar’s arms. He’s still asleep. Quiet.

  I open my eyes to see the fluorescing blue streaks as they fall across the windows. Joston should see this, I think. He may never have a chance to see it again.

  I may not either, but for different reasons. Because I’ve come up with a plan to save Chlo and Lasson. As long as the transport raft on the palace roof is still there and still working, my plan has a chance—for Chlo, Lasson, and Joston.