Valan's Bondmate (37 page)

"I do, too." She opened the door and swung around to get out of the vehicle. "How much do I owe you?"

"A hundred credits," he told her, grinning at her look of shock.

Daria started to argue with him then smiled and handed him her credit chip and sighed with relief when he pocketed it rather than scanning it. Hopefully by the time he got around to it she'd be long gone. Curiously, she asked him, "What would you have done if I didn't have that much?"

"Nothing. But, I figure you don't need it now and I do." He laughed and waved at her as she shut the door and turned towards the white stone building.

She approached the doors and they automatically opened to let her enter. The reception room held hundreds of women. They glanced at her and turned away. Daria ignored them and made her way to the right side of the room. She stopped next to a closed door she knew opened to a hallway to the changing rooms. The door was her ticket to freedom and she was determined to get through it.

She watched the women as one by one they stepped through one of the many doors at the far side of the room. Most of the women never returned but a few would re-appear escorted by a stony-faced warrior. They'd be escorted to a waiting shuttle and Daria figured they'd been rejected and would be given a ride back to the city. Her reporter's curiosity rose and she fought the urge to run out to the shuttle and ask the women why they'd been rejected. The door opening next to her saved her.

Several warriors came through it. She glanced behind them, saw the corridor was empty and slipped through the door before it closed. The corridor ended after twenty feet. She had to go left or right. She peered around the corner and went left when she saw the way was clear. The door at the end led to the changing rooms. She hurried toward it and slipped inside. Several women glanced at her then went back to fixing their hair.

Mirrors and sinks lined the walls on either side of her and dozens of showers were placed along the back of the room. She moved to the last one and stripped then shoved her clothes through a small door that was marked as a disposal unit. After adjusting the temperature of the water she stepped into the shower and scrubbed her skin but avoided smearing her make-up. The temptation to remove the wig and wash her hair nearly overwhelmed her but she resisted it and decided to leave the wig on until she was on the starship.

Several women waited to use the shower so she stepped out, dried herself, and pulled on one of the Zarronian gowns. A glance in the mirror had her groaning. The dress was skintight and outlined every inch of her curves. It clung to her breasts and stretched across her waist and belly before it ended at her knees. The material was silky and thin, but thankfully not transparent. Accepting the situation she moved into the next room and used one of the brushes to smooth her hair.

"Didn't you hear what the man said? No make-up allowed," the dark brunette next to her said.

"Uh, no, I guess I didn't hear that part. Are you sure?" Rats, she thought to herself, without the make-up someone might recognize her.

"I'm sure. You better wash it off. They said anyone who didn't want to comply wouldn't be allowed to transfer to the starship."

Cursing beneath her breath, Daria leaned over the sink and removed the thick layer of cosmetics. She had to wash twice before it all came off. Standing, she patted her face dry, and looked at herself. She was back. Drats!

"I don't know why you young girls want to wear all that stuff on your face. You don't need it," the brunette told her, smiling.

Daria nodded and moved away. It wouldn't do to get too friendly with anyone. When she disappeared, they might start asking about her.

She wandered toward a group of women who waited to be escorted to the transfer rooms. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and thought about sleep. When she made it to one of the Ambassadors' quarters she was going to sleep for twenty-four hours. Maybe longer. A hand shaking her shoulder brought her back to awareness. She opened her eyes and saw a small brunette smiling at her.

"It's time to go," she said with a smile.

"Thank you." Daria followed the others out the door and down the corridor to a transfer room. She and five other women stepped onto the transfer plate. For a moment, she felt dizzy and disoriented, then the feeling faded as she rematerialized on the starship. She stumbled as she left the transfer plate and a huge warrior reached out and caught her. She smiled at him and he held her until she was steady on her feet before releasing her. His eyes slid slowly down her body then back up, and he grinned. She frowned at him. Men!

"You have beautiful eyes, female." He ran his knuckles over her cheek and smiled. "The same shade as the wolfens on Zarronia."

A shiver of feminine awareness slid along her spine as he spoke, and her mind went blank. These Zarronians were unbelievable. They were what a co-worker, Edith, called 'real tasty babes'. For once, Daria agreed with her. They had everything, great bodies, gorgeous faces, and a level of sensuality that was nearly impossible to resist. To top it all off, they also had the sexiest voices she'd ever heard.

"You're not so bad yourself, sweetie-pie." She smiled when the warrior shivered. Even as a child, people gave her startled looks the first time they heard the whiskey-smooth, low tones she'd inherited from her mother. Grinning, she moved away in a hip swinging saunter. Too bad this was the one and only time she'd get to flirt with one of these huge warriors. Under other circumstances she might have been tempted to get up close and personal with him.

In the corridor, she joined a group of women as another Zarronian warrior approached and told them to follow him. She moved to the end of the line and trailed behind. When they reached a place where two corridors intersected, she stepped into the other corridor and hurried away, holding her breath and praying she wouldn't run into anyone.

Four corridors later she came to what appeared to be a dead end. She waved her hand over a small dot on the wall and two hidden doors slid open revealing an elevator. She entered it and repeated the words Madami Valan spoke and felt her empty stomach jolt as the elevator began to move. Crossing her fingers, she hoped when the doors opened the corridor would be empty. Her luck held and she left the elevator, scanning the nameplates on the doors she passed. The first one said 'Commander Valanson'. Frightened it would open and she'd be caught she hurried by it, tripped and bumped into the wall, making a loud thumping noise.

She caught her balance and ran to the next door. The nameplate was blank. It opened and she slid through it before it opened completely, then scanned the luxuriously appointed quarters while it closed behind her. They appeared vacant.

Several deep couches in a smooth emerald leather sat around the room with strategically placed tables. A deep ivory carpet covered the living room ending at the kitchen area where the flooring changed to a light colored wood.

She moved through the quarters and checked out the two bedrooms. In both of them she opened the closet doors and breathed a sigh of relief when she found them empty. Gleefully, she pulled the blond wig from her head, tossed it to the floor of the closet, shook her head, and combed her fingers through the long strands.

Her stomach growled reminding her it was several days since she'd eaten. In the kitchen area, she studied the food processor, remembered what Madami Valan had shown her and began pushing buttons. A few seconds later, the door opened and a tray slid out. Standing at the counter she tasted the food and rolled her eyes in ecstasy as the unfamiliar flavors filled her mouth. She cleaned every crumb from the tray, and then placed it in the disposal unit.

Feeling better after eating, she showered again and this time she washed her hair too, and toweled it dry before she dropped onto the nearest bed. Her last thought before sleep took her was
I made it
.

***

"Commander Valanson, your sons are summoning you," the communications officer, Hugh Angusson, said as he swiveled around from his duty station.

Thorn Valanson frowned with impatience, then stalked to his chair on the bridge of his starship, the Invincible. His parents forced him to bring his sons, Dane and Devin, with him on this journey. The boys were five and harder to handle than a wet wolfen. Working together, they were slowly, but surely, destroying his command—just as their mother destroyed his life. Earlier, after finding them in engineering where he'd specifically forbidden them to explore, he'd confined them to his quarters.

He and his sons were strangers. After their birth and naming ceremony, he'd taken them to his parents, and left Zarronia on a three annual journey to explore the Almar Galaxy. One moon phase after he began his voyage their mother, Naline, was executed for her crime of treason against the Zarronians. The news of her death had been a relief and he'd sworn to never again trust a female or risk his heart.

He and his twin brother, Soren, grew up with Naline. She'd been the adopted daughter of their father's friend Hugh Elofson and he'd thought he'd known her. She'd been ravishingly beautiful but it had been a disguise hiding the treachery in her dark soul. After accepting him she'd used his family's position and wealth to gather information and purchase weapons for their enemy, the Wrothians.

As bad as her betrayal was for him, his suffering didn't compare to the concerns it raised for his people. The knowledge he'd impregnated her without a true bonding taking place had every scientist on the planet scrambling for an answer. The scientists eventually discovered the Zarronians use of ZL3 changed their DNA in ways they hadn't expected and there were now levels of the mating fever that plagued his race.  

The first four levels depended on the females' DNA. At level one a female could share a warrior's fever but she couldn’t bond with him or have his sons. This was a female only a warrior on the verge of death would choose as fatherhood was coveted by every warrior. At level two a female could share a warrior's fever and carry his sons but the bonding did not take place. Level three was a weak bond although the female could take the warriors fever and carry his children. Most astonishing the mates could be away from each other for up to six moon phases without harm coming to either of them. Level four females were the most coveted as they were comparable to the old bonding between Zarronian warriors and females. The female could take a warrior's fever, bond with him and have his children, and they could be away from each other for one to two moon phases.

Level five occurred when a warrior with the right DNA, his DNA in fact, met a level five female, who the scientists called a True Mate. The female triggered an intense mating response in the warrior and the bonding was so strong the mates were unable to be without each other for more than two cycles. There were only three level five bonded couples on Zarronia.

Level six was the only ranking based solely on a warrior's DNA and it was a death sentence. The warrior could relieve his fever only with a level six female but one had never been found. Rumor had it there was at least one level six warrior on Zarronian.

Thorn was thankful Naline had been a level two and relieved him of the worst of the fever. The symptoms he suffered now were manageable and with any luck at all he'd never meet a level five female—his True Mate.

He pushed the dark thoughts away and activated the communicator, and sighed when Dane answered. Dane was the leader and anything he did, Devin did, as well.

"Father?" Dane's young voice sounded frightened and unsure.

"Yes, Dane."

"Father, we heard someone in the corridor. You said we were the only ones on this level." His voice was accusing.

"Our quarters are the only ones occupied, Dane," he told him, impatiently. "It was probably a maintenance worker."

"Oh. Are you returning soon?" he asked, casually.

Too casually, Thorn knew they were up to another one of their tricks. For a fleeting moment, he regretted the time he'd missed with his sons. He hadn't been present when they'd learned to walk or talk. For the last two annuals, he'd visited them only when his father forced him to do so. "Dane, I want you and Devin to begin preparing lunch. I'll be there in five minutes."

"Alright, Father." The communicator was deactivated from their end.

His parents wanted him to at least try to find a bondmate and provide a mother for Dane and Devin but he wasn't willing to do that. If they were tired of raising them, he'd hire someone to do it. Even Soren constantly harassed him about his sons. The last time he'd seen his brother they'd gone to the gymnasium for a friendly training session but Soren badgered him about his indifference towards Dane and Devin. Thorn ignored him, until Soren got frustrated and took a swing at him. He'd ducked the punch, and then tried to walk away. But, Soren hadn't let him. Their disagreement finally ended with both of them lying on the floor, exhausted and bloody.

Dag Cameronson, his first-in-command, approached him. "Those two still giving you hell, Thorn?"

"Yes. They're worse now than they were when the journey began." Thorn looked at him and realized Dag knew his sons better than he did as he was one of their mentors. He'd also stood by him when Naline was caught and he'd had been accused of conspiring with her. At first, Thorn refused to accept her betrayal. Only after he'd been proven innocent, and she'd been proven guilty, had he accepted the truth, and begun to hate her.