Angel in the Badlands: space opera sci fi romance (Sons of Amber Book 1) (5 page)

Zeke palmed the door scanner and the hatch cycled open. He was glad he kept a clean ship. The scientists who’d raised them had taught all the Sons to pick up after themselves. Being in the military demanded one live an orderly life as well, even if he was deeply immersed in covert operations.

“Make yourself at home. The head is through that hatch, if you need it.” He picked up some of the stuff that had gotten knocked around by the rather violent unscheduled landing, and dumped it into a bin. He’d sort it out later. For now, he was just glad more stuff hadn’t come loose from its moorings or broken in the crash.

“This is…” she hesitated and he paused in his cleaning to look up at her.

“What?” He looked around, trying to see what could be wrong.

“It’s so neat,” she finally said. “I didn’t expect that. My brothers are slobs.”

“You have brothers?” More than her observations of his habitual cleanliness, he was intrigued by the idea that she had male siblings. Men—regular human males—had not been common in the galaxy since before Zeke was born.

“Four of them,” she answered, and rolled her eyes as she moved into the room. “Three older than me and one younger. Every single one of them never learned how to pick up after himself. At least the eldest just got married. He’s my sister-in-law’s problem now. But my mother despairs of the others ever finding a woman willing to put up with them.”

He heard the genuine affection in her voice and he marveled at the way she described her family. It sounded so…normal. Or, at least, normal for the way humans had lived for millennia before the jit virus. Since the bioweapon had been released, nothing had been normal.

So many deaths across the galaxy had changed everything.

“I would like to meet them sometime. It is rare to meet a male who is not one of my own brothers,” he admitted, drawing her gaze.

She smiled and he caught his breath at the sparkle in her eyes. “I’m sure they’d enjoy meeting you too. My brothers are all military nuts. They study the ancient histories of warfare and watch the vids over and over. They all work in the defense sector of our colony since they all are telepathic. Pretty much all the male telepaths and many of the females with no other callings are engaged in defense. I trained with them for a little while before my talent for healing emerged, but I’ve been in healer training since I was about twelve standard years old.”

“You’re telepathic?” Zeke realized he should have questioned her about this long before now. He’d been foolish not to think about what Mother Rachel had told him of the origins of the colony. They were all descended from an ancient order of mystics. Everyone here probably had some kind of psychic talent—or at least the genetic disposition for such.

“Sorry.” She actually looked bashful. “I’ve never had to deal with anyone who I didn’t already know from birth. Most of us have talents of one kind or another. My family is generally telepathic, but there are also a few healers scattered through our ancestry. I got a bit of both.”

“What kind of distance can you achieve? Can you talk to people in the colony from here? How does that work?” Zeke was thinking fast about the tactical implications of this kind of ability and firing off questions, but she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seemed flattered by his interest.

“Every telepath has a slightly different range. We’ve categorized the relative strength over the years so we all know where we stand. And you can change ratings with time—increase with use, or decrease when you’re out of practice. I’m currently classified as H7/Tp5. Which means I’m a seven on the scale for healing and a five for telepathy. And to answer your question, yes, I can contact pretty much anyone in the colony who is equal to my level or above, from this distance. My brothers are higher ranked, and though we’ve never been able to test it during their lifetimes, three of them could probably reach a good distance into interstellar space if there was anyone out there who could hear them.”

Zeke was shocked. A military organization with a few telepaths in its ranks would have the ultimate in secure communications. No need for scramblers or other complicated equipment. The human mind—as far as he knew—could not be hacked.

“That’s amazing.” He knew Mike would be interested in this information, and the potential these colonists would bring with them if they were truly ready to stop hiding and rejoin the human race. “I definitely want to meet them, if we have a chance. I have a feeling Command will be very interested in these kinds of abilities.”

Angela stilled and regarded him with a steady expression. “There’s a reason we’ve been training ourselves and preparing all these years. Our foreseers have been getting us ready to leave our hiding place and start working with our human brethren again. I don’t think they revealed the full extent of the horror that has happened in the galaxy, if they knew it. They probably didn’t want to depress us. Many foreseers use their judgment about what to reveal and what to keep hidden. They have a code of ethics our ancestors worked out centuries ago, by which they live. We all do. Some telepaths can actually reach into non-telepathic minds,” she revealed in a whisper. “Without a strict code to live by, some might misuse their abilities.”

“I had no idea.” And, it seemed, there was his answer to the question about hacking the human mind.

“I think we’re all going to be spending a bit of time learning from each other as this goes on,” she said softly. “We have a lot to catch up on, but it sounds like those of you in the wider galaxy may have lost some of the knowledge and talents we came here to preserve. It starts to make a lot more sense why our ancestors chose exile when the foreseers told them what was coming.”

She was trembling and he reached out to enfold her in his arms, wanting to bring comfort. Such momentous things had brought them to this pass. Things that they were only just beginning to understand. It was all very upsetting—even to Zeke, who had seen a lot of the horrors that had plagued humanity for such a long time.

“They had a choice, you see,” she went on, apparently comforted by his embrace. “Our ancestors could have stayed to fight. We were never cowards. Some of them were great leaders in the history of our planet. But they chose this path for us so that we might survive the purge and bring fresh troops, as it were, to the battle.”

Zeke saw it too. This colony would bring so much hope to so many planets that had been devastated by the jit virus. Just knowing there was a pocket of humanity that had survived intact would lift everyone’s spirits. And if the skills these people possessed could be brought to bear in any way against the enemy, or in rebuilding the race, then they would be doubly welcome.

The men of this colony would be valuable as well, for the genetic diversity they could bring to the repopulation of humanity, if they were willing. Zeke was certain Dr. Amber would be very interested in their genetic profiles and he wondered idly if the future of the human race was going to include a much higher percentage of psychically gifted people as a result of this development. Now wouldn’t that be interesting?

For now, Zeke held Angela in his arms and wished silently that they could stay this way forever. Such an amazing thought for a Son of Amber to have. He wasn’t supposed to get attached to any one female, but he feared that was exactly what was happening here.

“Just knowing that your colony survived is going to be an amazing morale booster to a galaxy that is struggling to get back on its feet,” Zeke assured her. “I think anything your people decide to do or contribute will be welcomed with open arms. We can use all the help we can get.”

Speaking of which, Zeke knew he had work to do, but he found it hard to let her go. He tried to draw back, but he couldn’t leave her. Not without a parting kiss.

One kiss became two and then more until he had her pushed up against the wall and he felt her little hands reaching for the closure on his shirt. That brought him back to reality. He couldn’t. Not now. Not this way. There was work to be done, true, but his reasons went beyond that simple fact to something deeper. Something significant. Something he didn’t quite understand himself.

Something he’d have to think about later... Because the work was still there and needed doing. Firmly, he drew himself out of her arms, his heart breaking at the soft look of her face, the dazed and hungry expression in her eyes.

He wanted nothing more than to stay there and ravish her—and let her ravish him in return—but they simply didn’t have time. Later, he promised himself. When he had all night to devote to her pleasure. She was too important to him to rush.

“Sleep now, sweetheart,” he said quietly, hoping she understood that he wasn’t rejecting her, merely trying to keep his head on straight and remember his duty.

“Okay.” The fog of passion seemed to clear from her gaze as she moved away. He let her go, though it went against every one of his instincts. “You’re right.” He could see she was trying to get her breathing under control. He was having a bit of the same problem.

When they came together, they ignited a fire that would consume them both. Zeke couldn’t wait until they had the leisure to explore it further. But it had to be the right time and the right place. This was neither.

“If you need me, just use the comm panel at the side of the bed. Set it for intercom and I’ll hear it anywhere on the ship.” He watched her move away and realized he was having a hard time leaving. But he had to go. The ship wouldn’t fix itself.

A couple of hours later, with the repairs to the ship mostly complete, Zeke gave in to temptation and went back to his cabin. Finding Angela fast asleep, he lay his weary head down a short distance from hers on the wide bed that was easily big enough for both of them.

He thought she wouldn’t mind, as long as he kept to his side of the bed. Or then again, based on the way she’d reacted to his kiss earlier, maybe she wouldn’t mind if he didn’t.

Either way, he needed sleep. He was running on empty, despite his inbred abilities to heal faster than regular humans and the stamina for which the Sons of Amber were renowned. He set the alarm to wake him at sunrise. He wanted to be ready when the
Regulus
made orbit.

Angela woke a few hours later, disoriented at first until she felt the hard, male arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

Ezekiel.

She savored his name in her mind as his arms squeezed her gently. He slept on, but his strong hold never slackened. Even lost in the netherworld of dreams, he kept her close.

It had to mean something, but she feared she might be putting too much stock in his actions. She finally admitted to herself that she wanted this man from the stars with a passion unknown to her before. Since she’d found him under the burning midday suns, her life had changed in irreversible ways. Her heart had come alive and her body pulsated with yearnings she didn’t fully understand, but for which she somehow knew, he held the cure.

Yes, the cure for her woeful condition was him. His love, his passion, his commitment. She wanted it all. Especially his heart.

But there were so many obstacles, not the least of which was the role he had been designed and bred to perform. If she understood him correctly, he was some kind of intergalactic super stud, sent out among the remnants of humanity to service any and all females who wanted his sperm. In one way, the thought disgusted her, but in another more perverse part of her psyche, the thought was tantalizing. To think that she held him—this man whom so many women desired—and he was with her. Not normally given to vanity, the feeling of pride sat uncomfortably in her mind, as did the jealousy.

Angela felt like scratching the eyes out of any woman who’d been with him before. She wanted to mark him, to stake her claim and let all other females know that while they might bear his children, they would never have his heart. His heart was hers alone.

Or so she dreamed.

Her dreams spoke of love everlasting, but she had yet to discover whether these were prophetic dreams so common to many of her people, or just dreams of what her inner self wished could be. She prayed the dreams would come to pass. She prayed mightily that she could keep Zeke in her life—and in her bed—where she really thought he belonged.

Never before had she felt such a strong, deep, and instant connection in her soul for any other person, male or female.

She had known the moment she saw him, baking under the sun and close to death, that he was simply…hers. Just as she was his. They were fated to be together, their hearts and souls entwined. Now she just had to see if her thoughts and hopes could truly be reality or if they were just foolish dreams.

Then there was his duty as a Son of Amber to contend with. How could she claim the sole attentions of a male so important to the survival of the entire human species?

Was it fair of her to want to keep him for herself? Was it even possible? Only time would tell. The people who held authority over him were on their way. If he wanted to be with her, she figured it would be up to his superiors as to whether or not he would even be allowed to consider such a thing.

There was also the all-important question of whether he would want to stay with her.

Looking at the chrono by the bedside she realized there was still a couple of hours until dawn. She settled back down and closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift back to sleep.

It felt like only five minutes later when she was rudely awakened by a telepathic shout in her mind.

Chapter Five

Zeke roused instantly the moment the sensors triggered an alarm. It was a different sound than the chrono’s time alarm. No, this alarm meant that something had penetrated the range of his ship’s sensors.

The range was only slightly past orbit, so it was something close. A quick glance at the chrono told him it was still a bit too early for the
Regulus
to have arrived. His gut clenched. If it wasn’t the
Regulus
—which his sensors would have recognized and not identified as a threat—then it was probably the jits.