The Siren's Call (Fantasy, Science Fiction, Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE) (15 page)

Turning away, Dorian chose to ignore the demon’s comments though they validated everything Gwen had said to him. Hearing himself addressed as Lieutenant had a good sound at least, he decided, moving his attention back to the warrior female claiming to be his mate and the pilot who was flying the shuttle.

Everyone onboard seemed nothing but relieved to be leaving the planet behind. But only when the craft was hurtling through the black void did he let himself believe that his ordeal was truly over. His body hurt in ways he had not allowed himself to acknowledge until now. Willing himself to let go of the tension that owned him, he had an unexpected feeling of great calm wash over him. He hadn’t gotten to the point of achieving such relaxation on his own, so he looked at the attractive female sitting beside him. Was she doing something that was causing him to feel that way?

When she put her hand on his arm in answer to his unspoken question, he didn’t pull it away or even feel the urge to do so. Her compassion completely enveloped him and had him sighing in relief. He didn’t know how she was capable of such a gift, but he was suddenly sure the softly smiling female was generating the reassuring feelings within him.

“It is finally over, Eli’oh. All that is left now is the healing,” Sarinnea told her child, patting his arm and hoping his spirit truly was still whole inside his physical body.

Sarinnea tried not to be hurt when he looked away without replying. Fingers linking with hers on the other side had her sniffling at the unsolicited offer of support.

“It’s really over, Jordon,” she said. His nod of agreement had her burying her face to sob with relief into Jordon’s shoulder.

“I will always be grateful to you and your mate for rescuing me,” Jordon said to Sarinnea’s child over her head.

Her son didn’t acknowledge the thanks, but he did look at Sarinnea strangely and with great concern. Jordon hoped it was a good sign, because Sarinnea did not straighten again to see it for herself.

“Now you can finally go back to your mate, Jordon,” Sarinnea said, her voice unsteady against him. “And I can finally go home. In fact, I will probably never leave my home planet again, not even to see my only child. He has a mate now to watch over him. Gwen will make sure Dorian stays safe.”

Jordon held Sarinnea close for the short trip to the main craft. Frowning over her head, he allowed himself the first thoughts he’d had in a long time of the Norblade mate he’d taken years ago. What had Elle done in the fifteen years of his abduction and slavery? Had she thought him dead and had him declared so? Had she taken another mate? Had children?

When a decade passed without rescue and he’d been sold into his third house, Jordon had given up hoping for that life. He had just assumed that it all was probably long gone now. Yet what was worse was that he no longer cared, hadn’t cared since his last owner had brought the Siren female home that he now held in his arms.

As the shuttle docked, Jordon looked at Sarinnea, who was pulling away both physically and emotionally from him. She had taken his place in the bed of his last owner many times since her purchase into his household, sparing him the unnatural torture he’d endured at his owner’s hands for the last two years.

He owed Sarinnea all the gratitude he could feel for his rescue, but also for his freedom in many ways.

And more than anything he had wished for in a long time, even more than his freedom, he wanted to wipe the memory of what she had endured for him from her spirit, regardless of what it had meant to his other commitments.

He had never met anyone as truly good as this female. Because of Sarinnea, for the first time in many years, Jordon knew pure desire again. He wanted the Siren female in the way a male was supposed to want a female, the way that had once been so natural.

No matter how faithful his mind urged him to be to the Norblade female he had mated, Jordon wanted the Siren—wanted to have her fully—whether it was honorable or not.

“I owe you my return to life, Sarinnea of Rylen. If ever I would choose to be a willing slave, it would be to you. Whatever your fondest wish, I would do all I could to make it happen for you,” Jordon promised.

Sarinnea patted his arm.

“It is merely the edge of the Siren’s call. I regret now I used it on you. When your healing time has passed, you will feel differently, Jordon. No one should ever be anyone’s slave, regardless of the reason,” Sarinnea said quietly but firmly, pulling away completely as the ramp finally lowered into the bay.

***

Chiang stood next to the Ambassador, who had insisted on being present when the shuttle returned. The unpleasant female had been insistent that she had important news to share, but had refused to tell anyone but Captain Synar.

Two techs from Medical hovered nearby with a levitating transport.

Chiang let out the breath he’d been holding as he watched Dorian Zade walk out of the shuttle carrying a nearly naked Ania over his shoulder. He lowered her as gently as possible to the transport table trying his best to avoid the knife hilt Chiang could see protruding from her back.

Though he didn’t trust the sharp-tongued ambassador, Chiang walked away from her to do his own check of Ania’s condition.

A bloody, scratched up Boca stumbled down the ramp stopping his move forward. He grabbed Boca’s arms, his gaze raking her for signs of serious injury. She looked more injured than Ania.

“Tell me that is not your life force,” Chiang ordered, squeezing hard.

“No, it is not,” Boca declared, wincing, “but you will break my arms if you grip them any harder. You need not be concerned for my well-being. I am fine.”

“That scratch on your cheek might be infected,” Chiang said. “We’ll get a medic to check it.”

Chiang turned loose and stepped away to keep himself from grabbing her again. His hands actually trembled with the need to run them over her completely just to assure himself she was telling him the truth.

Boca blinked at his quivering hands but walked past him to the transport.

“Ania has been stabbed,” she reported. “The knife must come out, but there will be much bleeding. Malachi can heal her, but it will take a few weeks. His host body will die if he leaves it for that long. Is there a stasis machine big enough to hold a full body?”

“No, but the incubator can be turned into a stasis machine—of a sort. It is a matter of switching the circuitry and some reprogramming,” Chiang said.

“It will help everyone if this can be done,” Boca said.

Chiang turned his gaze to the rest of the crew who were finally debarking. Gwen was striding down the steps, looking like the least battle worn of the group so far. Her clothing was torn and she still wore the collar with the explosives in place.

Sarinnea and some strange male walked out together and headed to the elevators talking softly. Zade stood nearby saying nothing, looking like he had no clue what was going on.

Chiang’s gaze darted between all of them. He was not ready to deal with this level of responsibility. He wasn’t ready to deal with anything, but he felt his destiny calling most strongly from one direction.

“Commander Jet, I request permission to leave bridge duty and help in Medical,” he stated formally.

Gwen blinked at the odd request, and finally saw Chiang’s shirt had new insignia hastily affixed to it.

“That sounds like the best plan. Lieutenant?” she asked, ending her statement on a question. “I forgot about that.”

“Aye,” Chiang said roughly. “Don’t ask what a headache it’s been. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Gwen snorted at his irritation, stopping when Zade stepped forward. “What?” she demanded.

Zade narrowed his eyes at Chiang. “I don’t trust him around you,” he said quietly. “Does he mean you harm?”

“No. I
do not
mean her harm.” Chiang’s exasperated gaze went wide as he saw confusion in the Siren male’s gaze on him. “What’s wrong with Lieutenant Zade?”

“Memory loss,” Gwen said quietly, biting her lip as she put a reassuring hand on Zade’s arm. “There is no danger on the Liberator. Chiang’s a friend and a…fellow officer. He’s going to help Ania.”

Boca looked at Chiang and frowned. “We’re going to Medical now. Are you with us or not?”

“Yes. I’m with you. Gwen, when you look me up to talk later, bring Zade so he won’t want to kill me for being alone with you,” Chiang said, walking with the transport to the elevator. “Even if he doesn’t remember, his instincts appear to still be working on some level.”

Synar and Malachi came off the shuttle, bypassing everyone to follow the transport.

“Captain Synar,” Issa called, only to be totally ignored.

Gwen looked over at the frowning Ambassador. “Give it up. Can’t what you have to share wait? Synar is going to Medical and won’t be leaving it until Ania is on the mend.”

The ambassador crossed her arms. “No. The Peace Alliance has escalated the next mission. Do you think I want to be on this cursed ship and actually have to function in an official capacity with any of you?”

Gwen let a heavy sigh escape. “Actually, I think you would do anything to save your ass, but I can’t hold that against you when I just came from doing the same myself. Follow me to the bridge. We’ll talk there while I check on everything else.”

She turned to walk away, but Zade put out a hand to stop her, making her swing her irritated gaze to his tortured one.

“Look Zade…” Gwen swallowed the snippy, frustrated words she was going to say when she felt the pain and confusion in him find an echo in her. They were both traumatized. He was concerned about letting her out of his sight, and virtually alone since he didn’t recognize anyone. She took his arms in both hands and rubbed, trying to convey her caring.

“Come with me to the bridge. Later, I’ll get Sarinnea to come collect you. She can show you to the room where we sleep and wait with you while you clean up. In every room, there is a com port in the wall. All you have to do is press the green button and order the computer to ‘locate Commander Jet’. It will always tell you exactly where I am. Then I’ll come to you as soon as someone relieves me from duty,” Gwen explained.

“You’re a leader of these people?” he asked, not really surprised given the way she relished giving orders and being in charge of what occurred.

“Yes,” Gwen said, nodding. “That’s exactly what I am. And I swear you can trust me.”

“You said you were…that you are also my mate?” he asked, for some reason wanting her to confirm it again. His desire for her hovered under all the trauma, waiting for its chance to be indulged. It was highly compelling and too irresistible not to pursue.

“Yes—we’ll talk about that as soon as we have some time to be alone,” Gwen told him.

“This whole domestic scene is all very charming, but I have better things to do than waste it watching you two figure out your floundering relationship,” Issa said harshly.

Gwen spun and grabbed the smaller female by the robe front, hauling her slight body up until they were nose to nose and the female’s feet dangled two inches off the floor. “I’ll do what I damn well need to do, and you will shut your disrespectful mouth until I’m done. I am talking to my mate. He’s just escaped being enslaved and tortured. Don’t interrupt us again.”

She threw Issa back to her feet and turned a fiery gaze in Zade’s direction. He was appraising her with the same sharp eyes she was used to having turned in her direction when he was assessing her response. “Sorry. What were we talking about? She made me forget.”

Fascinated with the heat in her gaze for him, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, liking the way her cheek followed his hand. “You said we’re going to the bridge because you are a leader. Later you’re going explain our mating to me.”

Gwen’s eyes clouded with desire when his finger trailed across her face. “Right. The bridge. I have to be a commander. You have no idea how happy I am to get you back. I definitely want to show you later.”

The decision to trust her occurred quite organically as the fierce female warrior stood very still, letting him stroke her cheek with his thumb. Apparently she could be appeased with a comforting touch, but he sincerely hoped she never got as angry with him as she did with many others. Dropping his hand, he smiled genuinely. He was no longer in a cage, and this alluring female wanted to share his bed even though he didn’t remember her. It suddenly seemed like a good start to gaining back the life his captors took from him.

Gwen blew out a shuttering breath at the loss of his touch, making her march to the elevators, never looking around to see if Zade and the Ambassador followed her. She wanted nothing except to take Zade to their room and lock them away together. At the moment, her stress level had reached its maximum capacity without an outlet.

In the elevator, she felt his gaze on her and turned to meet it.

“Spit it out, Zade. Just ask your questions. I’ll tell you what I can,” she assured him.

“Your honesty is appreciated. I have decided to trust you, Gwen Jet,” he said, trying her name. It seemed right on his tongue.

“Well, thank those deities you talk about all the time then,” Gwen said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Though I still have my reservations about the value of using intuition to see the future. The Creators of All could have kept that gift.”