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Authors: Jaylee Davis

Lord of Capra

BOOK: Lord of Capra
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Lord of Capra

 

Jaylee Davis

 

 

Edited by Marisa Chenery

Cover design by April Martinez

 

 

Copyright 2014 Jaylee Davis. Published by
Forever More Publishing, 31 Wycliffe Place, Kitchener, Ontario, N2M 5J6, Canada.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

 

ISBN:
978-1-92785-937-7

 

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If
you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an
additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not
purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase
your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

This is a work of fiction. The characters,
incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are
not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons,
living or dead, is completely coincidental.

 

An ancient enemy
seeks to destroy Nemesis. Coldblooded abominations and their zombie creations
invade the galaxy, creating havoc on worlds protected by the mighty ghost ship.

Evana, pilot to
Nemesis, reluctantly agrees to her ship’s outrageous plan. They return to her
home world—Earth. Nemesis selects the perfect mate to ease Evana’s loneliness
and to help fight their enemies.

Confined to a
wheelchair, ex-marine, Harrison Drake, has no immediate plans. Bitter and
alone, he believes he has no future—until he sees her standing beside his
hospital bed. Unfamiliar emotions rise within him—love and lust collide. With
hardly a second thought, he follows her on an adventure that takes him from
Earth to the stars, fighting at her side against her enemies—monsters of
legend.

Prologue

 

Location: Milky Way
Galaxy, Outer Rim

 

“Nemesis, is there
no end?”

Sheltered within
the comfort of her pilot bed, Evana cringed at the loudness of her own voice.
There were times when she wished for something, anything, to break up the
monotony of exploration. To make matters worse, the latest threat to the galaxy
seemed to have disappeared. A world under attack by an abomination and the
minions it created always banished her foul mood and gave her a sense of
purpose. To her chagrin, their enemy hadn’t surfaced on any planet for over a
year. A good fight would certainly help her frame of mind.

Still bored, Evana
let out an exasperated sigh. Would Nemesis ever be able to grasp the concept?
Probably not, she concluded. Nothing seemed to bore the invisible ghost ship.
As for herself, she’d lost count of the days since she’d started complaining
out loud about her boredom. She didn’t even care to know, but Nemesis would
know how long it’d been, right down to the nanosecond. Evana need only think
the question to the presence in her mind that was Nemesis, that part of her
being they both shared.

Is there no
activity that interests you?
The silent question formed in her mind.

No,
Evana thought back
out of habit. Gods.

Was she doomed to
roam the galaxy aimlessly for yet another century all alone?
You’re not
,
she immediately reminded herself. She wasn’t alone—ever. Nemesis was always
there, an immortal physical presence and her constant mental companion. The
symbiotic bond between ghost ship and pilot was eternal, forged by an
irreversible transformation, which had changed Evana’s body forever. In her
mind, she was still human, a woman from a remote planet known as Earth.

Most of the time,
she was ecstatic over her relationship with the ghost ship. Being the pilot to
Nemesis, the most powerful life form in the galaxy, so far, was intoxicating.
Few enemies, no boundaries, minimal responsibilities, they were free to explore
among the stars. Then why was all that not enough for her now?

Humans weren’t
meant to live forever, right? Not that she was entirely human anymore. She was
forever young and beautiful—a curse at times, especially when she felt sorry
for herself. Immortality was certainly not for the faint of heart.

What can ease this
boredom you suffer, pilot?

As always, Nemesis
seemed genuinely concerned. It made her feel horribly guilty for voicing such a
childish complaint.

I don’t really
know, Nem. It’s not important.
Evana attempted to dismiss the subject,
preferring to disregard her feelings as she always did. Lately, she’d spent
more and more time within the pilot bed. Perhaps she tried to cure her boredom
by exploring even more than Nemesis desired.

Evana stretched
full body before arising naked from the pilot bed. Resigned to her lonely
existence, she stepped down from the platform that supported it, which at her
departure, became enclosed within its black cocoon-like pod. The surrounding
control room was stark in appearance, and the low-level lighting seemed to come
from both floor and ceiling. No light fixtures, chairs, manual controls,
computers or gadgets of any kind were evident.

It was a semi-round
room, mostly vacant with the exception of Evana, the pilot’s bed pod and a
small arched recess on the wall to her left. Within the alcove a small metallic
goblet filled with golden liquid waited for her. She hurried to it.

A voracious hunger
drove her. Piloting drained her by sapping her strength. She tipped the goblet
to her lips, anxious to savor the golden elixir. Her fangs descended in
anticipation. It tasted semi-sweet with a hint of an exotic flavor, which
echoed of forbidden fruit. The thick liquid flowed across her parched tongue,
its texture like silken cream. Strength returned, permeating into muscle and
bone with each sip she swallowed. She drained the last drops. It was
satisfying. It was life.

It was her life,
anyway, she thought dismally while studying the magnified image of the
Andromeda Galaxy on the wall. Nemesis had brought them to the outer boundary of
their own galaxy in order to get a better look at the Milky Way’s distant
sister.

Every hundred years
or so, the ghost ship would travel to the most optimum viewing point and
measure the rate at which the two spiral galaxies closed in on one another. Not
that Evana would ever voice her suspicions, but she suspected Nemesis might be
just a little bored too.

“Perhaps you
require a distraction? Would you like to explore the galactic center more
thoroughly? Or would you prefer to ride the giant filaments around the outer
rim? Maybe locate a planet that pleases you on the far side?”
Nemesis offered
several ideas out loud, and before Evana could interrupt, she announced, “I
have a solution. It is time for us to visit your Earth.”

“No!”

The sheer thought
of going back to Earth filled her with gut-wrenching dread. After centuries,
she knew she wouldn’t recognize her world. The planet was there, surely, but
her world was gone. She’d witnessed the phenomenon before on other planets.
Even a small span of time, not even a hundred years, changed a world. Sometimes
the changes were good, sometimes not so good.

“Pilot, I sense
your loneliness,”
Nemesis
stated. “You should choose a companion from your home world. A strong male to
fight at your side would be helpful. Or even better, you could select a mate.

“Nem, you know I’ve
tried to find…companionship. It’s never worked.”

“Not from Earth,
and you have never allowed me to choose your companion.”

Evana huffed in
annoyance. “I’ve told you before, Nem. It just doesn’t work that way,” she
admonished.

“Pilot, I do not believe
your way has been working.”
Then, in a voice rich with authority, she proclaimed, “We
shall return to your planet and I will choose a proper mate for you.”

Incredulous, Evana
muttered, “You will choose?” She realized the ghost ship was indeed serious
about returning to Earth and glared at the smooth ceiling. “Nemesis, I think
you’ve finally lost your mind.”

“No, Evana. I wish
only to save yours, if you will allow me.”

Chapter One

 

Location: Earth,
Middle East, Desert.

 

They were trapped,
caught in crossfire while bullets rained mercilessly down on their unprotected
position. He shouted out orders to his squad. While urging his men to return
fire and seek what cover they could find, he fired off a few rounds toward the
top of a hill where the attack had originated. Now it seemed as if all hell
broke loose and came at them from every side. The desert sand kicked up and
swirled about them, adding more chaos to the bloodbath.

Their air support
was late. In a few more seconds, it wouldn’t matter either way. They were
doomed. He heard his men return fire, saw some of them fall to the ground,
dying for their country in a foreign land that didn’t seem to care one way or
the other what happened to its people. A searing pain ripped through his right
side. As his breathing faltered from the lung wound, another shot hit his back,
taking him down.

Sergeant Drake landed
on his side, gasping for breath while struggling to rise and continue fighting,
and realized his legs no longer obeyed his commands. And now, due to lack of
oxygen, blood or both, darkness closed in on him. Before falling unconscious,
he swore he heard the whine of helicopter propellers and increased gunfire.
Then all was black.

 

* * * *

 

Drake slept
fitfully, his dreams filled with the sounds of battle and gunfire, images of
the wounded and dying. He woke abruptly as he had for so many months, covered
in sweat and struggling to jump to his feet. Awareness and the light of day
brought him back to his dismal predicament.

After his final
operation, the doctors had informed him they’d done all they could. He’d
suffered two fractured vertebrae, but no spinal cord injury, at least not one
they could find. However, the bullet had shattered on impact and some of the
metal was imbedded close to his spine. What they hadn’t removed, they’d deemed
inoperable.

He gave the
wheelchair sitting at his bedside a malicious look, hating the constant
reminder of all things in his life that were now over. His military career was
gone, along with his useless legs. Drake had received the news of his medical
discharge soon after his back operation.

What was wrong with
the military? So inefficient with most things for the fighting soldiers, but no
time wasted when it came to kicking them aside. Was nothing in life fair? He’d
always believed in justice for all. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Good morning,
handsome,” his ever cheerful charge nurse announced as she burst through the
door of his hospital room.

“What’s so good—”

“About it?” She
finished for him. “One thing I can say about you, Mr. Drake, is you’re
consistent, all right.”

He guessed she was
about twenty-five years old. A short, petite blonde, she was very pretty in a
pixie-like way. He scolded himself for being so ill-mannered with her yet
again. He really should try harder to improve his mood instead of grouching
like a twelve year old. Why did he always have to act like a jerk?

She collected his
vitals, and after making a few quick entries to his chart on her computer, she
smiled once again. He could never quite tell if she tried to flirt with him or
if she just felt sorry for him. And he certainly didn’t want pity from anyone.

“I’ll be back with
your breakfast in about an hour. If you want to bathe and dress, now’s your
chance.” Before she closed the door behind her, she added, “And I hear they’re
letting you go home tomorrow. Isn’t that good news?”

Drake stared at the
closed door for a few moments.
Home. Home?
Where might that be?

His small one-bedroom
apartment on the west side of Houston certainly didn’t qualify. Since the death
of his parents when he was twenty, he hadn’t called any place home, except the
military for the past dozen years. The only relative he had left in the world
was a childless uncle, his father’s only sibling. He and his skinny high
society wife lived somewhere in California. No matter, they’d lost touch since
his parents’ funeral. It was his fault as much as his uncle’s for not
communicating, but there was bad blood between them.

His mother had been
an only child. Perhaps, if he’d had a brother or sister, things would’ve been
different.

Bitter at life and
the world in general, he stared at the clock on the wall.
Damn.
Only six
o’clock in the morning on the last day of his hospital confinement, and he felt
as though it was already flushed down the toilet.

BOOK: Lord of Capra
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