Zealot (6 page)

Her phone vibrated on the nightstand, making a strange moaning sound. It was well past midnight. Who in blazes would call her now? Curious, she picked up the phone and both her brows flew halfway up her forehead.

Zilor: Are you up?

Zilor? How the hell was Zilor texting her from inside the moon? And why did her phone recognize his number when he wasn’t one of her contacts? Too stunned for anything else, she just stared at the phone.

Zilor:
I know you’re angry, but I never lied to you.

That got her going.

Indigo: No, u just neglected to mention that I’m breeding stock!

Zilor:
Chandar doesn’t care one way or the other.

Indigo:
Low blow. Be nice or I’ll turn off my phone.

Zilor: I’m always nice.

And he had been nothing but nice. He’d been polite and funny and—she cut herself off. She liked him. That wasn’t a crime, but he had an ulterior motive whether or not he was willing to admit it. In the end the battle born wanted the same thing Tandori Tribe wanted. If she was even going to consider helping Chandar, she had to go in with her eyes wide open.

Zilor:
You still there?

Indigo:
Maybe.

Zilor:
My thumbs are tired already. Can we talk? Please?

Indigo: Now?

Zilor: Do you have somewhere you need to be?

Indigo:
Where are you?

Zilor:
Nearby.

Indigo: I think the others are watching my house. You can’t come here.

He was right. This was way too complicated for text messaging.

Zilor: Do you trust me?

The question made her smile. She shouldn’t, but she did. If he’d meant her harm, he’d had the perfect opportunity to do anything he wanted when he caught her alone in the store.

Indigo: Maybe. Why?

Zilor:
I can bring you to me.

Indigo:
How?

Zilor:
Sit up on the edge of your bed and I’ll show you.

How had he known she was in bed? It was midnight. Where else would she be?

Indigo:
Give me a minute. I’m not decent.

Zilor: Even better. Clothes are always optional.

Heat spread up her neck and across the tops of her breasts. How did he do that? Comments like that usually made her roll her eyes, not blush to the roots of her hair.

She set down the phone and pulled on her jeans. She wasn’t wearing a bra, but what the hell. This was the twenty-first century.

Indigo retrieved the phone and typed:
Do I need shoes?

Zilor:
Nope.

She sat down on the edge of the bed as instructed, her heart starting to race.

Indigo:
I’m ready, I guess.

Zilor:
Don’t drop your phone.

It was the only warning she got. The room around her blurred, her fingers and toes tingled, then everything faded to black. For one terrifying moment she was surrounded by nothingness then her new surroundings gradually came into focus. She was inside a small ship. Not unlike a private plane, the interior was sleek and refined. There were three rows of seats, one facing forward creating a semi-enclosed cockpit, the other two faced each other, maximizing the limited space. Zilor sat in the seat directly across from hers. She snapped her head toward the front of the ship. No one was in the pilot’s seat.

“Are we in the air?” Her voice came out all high and squeaky.

He smiled. “Autopilot can keep us airborne for hours. Relax.”

“‘Nearby’ usually means at the coffee shop down the street or at least in the same city.” She recovered enough to register what he’d said. She looked out the windshield or whatever spaceships had in the very front. Instead of the glowing blue orb she’d seen so often on the internet, she was offered a lovely view of city lights and the faint outline of the steep Flatiron rock formations. “That’s Boulder?”

“Um-hum. Do you want to go higher? I’m entirely at your disposal.”

She looked at him and sucked in a breath. He wasn’t wearing contacts and damn, his eyes were beautiful. They were still endlessly black, but now they shone, reflecting light and emotion. At the moment, he was amused by her obvious fascination. Distinct silver rings divided his pupils from his equally dark irises, the effect captivating and exotic. “Wow. So much better without the contacts.” One corner of his mouth quirked as some wicked thought crossed his mind. “What caused that expression?”

“I was just wondering if my response would get me slapped.”

“I’m pretty hard to offend. You can risk it.”

“Wow. So much better without the bra.”

She smiled at him, but again her cheeks were burning. “I’m glad you approve. I hate the damn things.”

“Well, you have my permission never to wear one again.”

“I appreciate your support.” Then she heard her own words and laughed. “Let’s change the subject.” To his credit, his gaze had remained on her face through the entire semi-obscene exchange. If he’d ogled her boobs, it must have been while she was still gobsmacked by her arrival. “How do I help Chandar without become a mail-order bride?”

“There are two possibilities, one is infinitely easier than the other, but unfortunately it’s also unlikely.” He’d changed into a uniform much like the one Kotto had worn earlier. She liked Zilor better in jeans and a T-shirt. Especially one as tight as the one he’d had on at the shop.

She swallowed, hoping to loosen up her throat and make her voice sound less nervous. “I’m fond of longshots. Let’s hear it.”

“There’s a small possibility that you aren’t compatible with any of the battle born.”

“Compatible? Are you talking personality or genetics?”

“They’re working on a program that will prioritize the genetic matches using personality traits and personal preferences, but I was referring to genetic compatibility. If two people aren’t genetically compatible, the rest is moot.”

She wasn’t sure she agreed. Reproduction wasn’t the only reason two people connected, but the detail wasn’t important enough to argue about while so many other things were still unclear. “What does battle born mean? You guys throw around the term like its self-evident, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“I’m part of the battle born rebellion.” He shook his head and looked away. “It’s a long involved story. Let’s stay focused on helping Chandar.”

“All right. If that’s really your intention, can’t you just bring Chandar to me? It might be good for her to spend some time around other women.”

He paused but then shook his head. “She’s developed a fixation with one of the men who rescued her, won’t go anywhere without him. Unfortunately, he’s probably the busiest person in this star system. There’s no way he could bring her back and forth every day.”

It was either the truth or he was the best damn liar she’d ever seen. She sighed. So much for her mother’s plan. “Then how do we find out whether or not I’m genetically compatible with any of the battle born?”

“I’ll have to draw blood.”

“Damn it.” She rolled out her bottom lip in a playful pout. “I was hoping we’d outgrown the need for needles.”

“The extractor uses highly focused suction, but it still stings. There’s simply no way to access blood without going through skin.”

She held out her arm. She was wearing a hot-pink tank top with fluffy white kittens on it so there were no sleeves to roll up. “Get it over with. I don’t do well with suspense.” He was only able to stand near the center of the cabin, but he reached into the compartment over her row of seats and the back of her neck prickled. “Is the equipment needed to analyze blood always on this ship?”

He stepped back and closed the compartment before he looked at her. “We both know why I’m here. I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise. You were about to sign the contract when Vinton Tandori barged in. My mission hasn’t changed. I’m trying to recruit you for Chandar.”

“Is that the only reason?”

He sank onto the seat next to hers a cylinder device in one hand and a zippered case in the other. “It’s the most important reason. The rest can wait.”

It was an honest answer. At least, it sounded and felt honest to her. “What happens if I am compatible?”

“It’s likely you are, but we can keep you isolated from your possible matches until you’re ready to explore more options.”

She smiled at that. “I’ve seen four Rodyte males and all four of them have been gorgeous. This is seriously unfair.” Before he could comment she extended her arm and said, “Go ahead. Poke me.” His gaze flew to hers and she laughed. “My arm is all I’m offering at the moment.”

His brow creased and he tilted his head as if he couldn’t quite decide what to make of her. “You’re going to be trouble. Aren’t you?”

“I’m just getting started,” she warned. “Wait until I have a drink or two.”

“I’m not sure Lunar 9 is ready for that.” He placed the case on her lap and unzipped it then took out a small square envelop and tore open the top.

“What is that?”

“Just a disinfectant.” He gently took her arm and positioned it so he could reach the bend of her elbow then rubbed her skin with the damp pad he’d pulled out of the envelop. The extractor looked very much like an auto-injector some diabetics used. He pressed it against her skin and she felt a minute sting then the light on the extractor turned from green to red. “All done.”

She looked at her skin, but could hardly tell where the blood had come through. “Weird.”

He took some sort of gizmo out of the case and attached the extractor to the side. It took all of three seconds to find what it was looking for. “Sorry, doll. You’re positive for the protein marker, which means it’s very likely you’re compatible with one or more of the battle born.” He set the device on his legs and entered a command into the touch-sensitive display. A holographic panel rose into the air.

“Now that’s cool.” It wasn’t just a lab-in-a-box, it was a computer too.

He glanced at her and smiled. “You haven’t seen anything yet. The next step is up to you. Do I have your permission to check for possible matches?”

She hesitated. Maybe she was better off not knowing. No. It hadn’t been an exaggeration. She really didn’t like being kept in suspense. Besides, if this mating pull grew stronger, as the journal entries indicated, she’d need a lot more information. “Go on. It will probably come up empty. God knows the human dating sites did.”

After shooting her a sidelong glance that said she was crazy, his hands flew over, no, more like
through
the display. Images shifted and bent, virtual screens popped up and then disappeared. It was all strange, and impressive. Everything went still for a moment and then lines of information scrolled across the middle of the display area.

“Are those names?”

“Yes.” He sounded every bit as shocked as she felt.

“All of them?” She tried to count as they scrolled by, but they were moving too fast.

He seemed to be waiting for something. Holy shit, was he looking for his name?
Wishful thinking
? Her inner voice mocked. He was just waiting for the list to end.

The names finally stopped and he turned his head and looked into her eyes. “You have seventy-three possible matches.”

She laughed. “Of course I do. Too many is just as frustrating as too few. That’s about as useful as all the other dating sites.”

“Rodytes don’t
date
. Locating a mate is an instinctual and very intense experience for us.” His tone was suddenly dark and smoky and their gazes locked. He turned off the miniature lab and put it back inside its case then set the case aside. She’d lost track of the extractor. Was it still attached to the scanner? She didn’t really care, but her inner voice rambled when she was nervous. And one possibility was making her very nervous.

“Are you on the list?” She tried to sound casual but her heart was beating so fast she was afraid he’d hear it.

He caught a lock of her hair, but this time he wrapped it around his finger until his hand hovered near her face. “Would that please you?”

“I asked first.”

“I didn’t need the test to tell me we’re compatible. Your scent told me everything I needed to know.”

“My scent?” Before she realized what he intended, he used her hair to angle her head back and buried his face against her throat. His warm breath made her skin tingle.

“You smell amazing, better than anything I’ve ever smelled before.”

It was such a bizarre compliment she couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you. I guess. You smell nice too.”

He raised his head and stared into her eyes. “Females don’t use scent to recognize their mate.”

“I see. And how do Rodyte females recognize their mate or all seventy-three of their mates in this case.” She’d hoped to annoy him enough to make him let go, but he moved even closer.

“By touch.” He took her hand and brought it to his face then mirrored the position with his hand on her cheek.