A Seacat's Love (Oceanan Trilogy Book 1) Page 4

  Tigif’s eyes doubled in size. She had shortened another male’s birth name without the male’s consent, which was a sure sign that she was attracted to him. The gleam in Tigif’s eyes hardened.

  “Thank you for saving us, Rick. We truly do appreciate it.” Leonora sounded sweet and grateful. How she ogled the human was another indication that she was interested. During the three seasons Tigif had known her, she had never looked upon a male with favoritism, not even him.

  “Leonora,” he warned.

  “Rick is our friend, Tigif. He has proven himself by saving our lives.” Her head rested against Tigif’s chest, yet her attention remained upon Rick until she dozed off.

  Tigif’s focus zoomed in on his new obstacle. He is not our friend. I will make certain of that.

  Lance went in to work earlier than usual. Everything that had occurred during the last two months irritated him to extremes. He had no control over the situation concerning the aliens, something he was uncomfortable with.

  He sat behind his desk, taking care of some paperwork. The only light that illuminated the windowless room came from a little desk lamp at his right hand side. This was a normal pastime whenever there was something on his mind and sleep eluded him.

  The ringing of the phone stopped his pen in midmotion. His attention riveted to the receiver. Somehow, Lance knew in his gut exactly who would be on the other end and what the topic of conversation would be.

  On the fourth ring, he answered. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Blaisdale?”

  “This is Blaisdale,” he responded in a monotone voice.

  “This is Anderson. I’m at the research lab. We have a situation here.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Someone has broken through our security setup.”

  “Was anyone hurt?” Lance asked.

  “Several of our boys will be of no use to us for a while. But that’s not the half of it.”

  “Go on,” Lance patiently prodded.

  “Whoever did it freed the remaining two aliens and got away.”

  Lance closed his eyes and inwardly groaned. Last two. He dropped his pen and pinched the arch of his nose. “Do you have any idea who it was?” His voice was void of all the emotions that swam inside him.

  “No, but we will. The amateur left some evidence behind.”

  Lance reopened his eyes. Shit! “What sort of evidence?” he calmly asked.

  “The idiot couldn’t keep his food down. In a few days, we’ll know if a connection is made.”

  Lance frowned. “I see.” He picked up his pen and began to twirl it between his fingers.

  “I was told you were at the lab the night before. You were with someone.”

  Here it comes. “That’s right. A member of my team.”

  “What were you doing at the lab, Blaisdale? You weren’t due back for another week.”

  “I left some important documents at one of the lower level offices. I needed to work on them right away, which is why you find me here. I’m working on them as we speak.”

  “And your man?”

  “He arrived that evening from an overseas assignment I had sent him on. I asked him to meet with me, so we could go over his next mission.”

  “Why was he at the lab, Blaisdale? We specifically told you no one is to know about the aliens.”

  “I haven’t spoken to anyone about our dealings with these aliens.”

  “But he knows about them, doesn’t he?”

  “Only because your men bungled up and the woman escaped, running into my man.”

  “I was told he defended the cat.”

  “Of course. She’s a woman, and those damn guards were using extreme force on her,” Lance told him, undaunted by the anger in his commanding officer’s voice.

  “You know damn well why we have to use extreme measures with those monsters! You’ve seen what they’re capable of doing. You saw her kill four of our men! She left a trail of bodies along the hallways!”

  “In self-defense.”

  “Self-de—”

  “My man saw a woman in need of help, and he responded. He killed no one.” By interrupting Anderson, Lance was certain he could confuse Anderson and make him misunderstand and believe he was referring to Rick’s use of force and not the alien’s.

  “What did you tell him afterward, Blaisdale? I’m sure he had a lot of questions concerning her.”

  “Actually, he didn’t. He knows better than to question his superior officer. And besides, I told him to forget everything, or there would be serious repercussions.”

  “And did he?” Anderson’s doubtfulness was obvious.

  Lance was sure the guards had spoken about Rick’s behavior toward him. No one but those on the Shadow Team understood their unique relationship. Lance was not about to explain it to outsiders. He preferred to let them find out the hard way.

  Lance’s sharp ears overheard a male voice calling for Anderson. “I know what you’re insinuating.” He kept Anderson from responding to the newcomer. “And I have to say, I don’t like it.” He sighed. “But don’t take my word for it. My friend is right here with me, if you wish to drill him yourself.”

  Lance’s heart raced a mile a minute. He was taking a risky chance, but he had no other choice. The only route open to him now was to bet on his reputation as a loyal team player.

  “Just a minute,” said Anderson to the other male. “No. There’s no need, Blaisdale. However, there is one thing: Can he be trusted?”

  “Trusted to do his job and what he’s good at? Definitely. Why don’t you just speak to him yourself, Anderson? He’ll be more than happy to answer any of your questions.”

  “I said, just a minute, lieutenant,” Anderson irritably instructed the person who had entered his office. “There’s no time for that right now. There are things I need to take care of first. Besides, I trust you, Blaisdale. I trust your judgment. You certainly can’t blame me for asking. You can never be too careful.”

  Yeah right. Lance twisted his lips. “I agree. Let me know if a match is made. I’ll see what I can come up with on this end.” His voice was still emotion free.

  “Will do. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Lance hung up the receiver. Lifting his sights from his desk, he stared into the dimly lit room. “Predator,” he whispered with the hint of a smile. “You are so predictable.”

  At first, nothing but total darkness surrounded Leonora. A white glow gradually filled the emptiness. Beyond the light, she heard their voices long before their faces came into focus.

  The lab! her mind cried. Dear Onssa no, I do not want to be here again. Rick, help me!

  Leonora knew it was a dream. She tried to wake up. Alas, the nightmare would not release her. From where she lay, she saw the cage that was her prison for nearly two months. Two of her colleagues stood by the bars. She watched them try to bend the bars apart to escape to aid her.

  Tigif growled. “This cannot be happening.” His unsheathed claws tightened around the silver bars. “This cannot be happening.”

  “Have mercy, great Onssa.”

  Leonora heard the tearful, low voice beg her god. She glanced to her right. The sight of her young companion, writhing in the throes of death on the table beside hers, filled her with a gut twisting agony. She was helpless to do anything but watch Pandor suffer.

  Pandor lay flat on his back on the icy cold table. Foam poured from his mouth. He turned his face to Leonora. She glimpsed his delirium through his glazed eyes. He gurgled and gasped for breath. His eyes cried out to her. Pain. Excruciating pain that reached new heights before the last plateau faded. Longing. No longer could he endure the unbelievable torture that racked his body. Death was his only reprieve. His blue eyes rolled back until nothing could be seen but white. Time stood still for all involved.

  Mercy, Onssa, mercy, begged Leonora before Pandor finally received some. His straining body moved no more. Tears fell from her eyes. Her heart felt heavy at the loss of another friend.

>   How could she have allowed such a thing to occur? The fate of her friends would remain with her until the death. She blamed no one but her own fear and weakness. Had she stood her ground and not yielded to their joint, male arrogance, then perhaps their paths would have taken a different course. Never again would she make the same mistake. What could she do to put an end to what was taking place before someone else was unmercifully killed?

  A man in his middle twenties, dressed in a white overcoat, rushed past her to a computer terminal. The sound of growling brought her attention to the two locked in the cage. Their thinner bodies strained against the unyielding bars. She noticed they were glaring at something beyond her head. She angled her neck and looked behind her. An older man in a white overcoat headed in her direction.

  The human paid no attention to the growls or hisses that flooded the room. He flipped the small bottle he held in his hand upside down. The clear amber liquid was steadily withdrawn into a syringe.

  Leonora pulled on her wrist and ankle restraints. The corner of his lips curved at her futile attempts to escape. With a light tap on the cylinder, the bubbles made their way to the top. He inched closer to her with eyes that were a pair of bottomless pits, void of any compassion. The evil behind the glasses darkened at her words.

  “Please, do not do this. This is wrong. I…we have done nothing wrong. I beg of you…please stop.” Sadly, her pleas fell on deaf ears.

  He was having too much fun. How often does the government pay someone to play Dr. Frankenstein? It was a scientist’s dream come true. If his experiments went wrong and his test subjects died, they simply scratched it off as benefiting the human race. After all, that is what science research and lab experiments conducted on animals are all about, correct?

  The protests shouted from the cage were ignored. He held Leonora’s arm still. Not bothering to cleanse the area, he overlooked bedside manners and jabbed the needle into her skinny arm. Forcing the liquid into her system placed a smile on his face.

  Excitement and anticipation surged through him. He was positively pleased with all the data collected these past few weeks. Because she was the only female in the group, it was difficult not to rush through the preliminaries. However, if accurate results were to be collected, then every step must be heeded—every painful step, which made his smile reach his ears.

  “How long do you think it will take for her to show some reaction?” asked the young assistant from his seat. He was inserting the latest data gathered from the dead specimen into the computer.

  “She’s smaller than the other four. I’ll say, give or take, two hours.” Over the rim of his glasses, the scientist looked at the round clock that hung on the silver wall to his left. “You can leave her here for now.”

  Taking off the thin, gray frames, he pinched his tired eyes. No longer were they as sharp as they were thirty years ago. “In an hour, we can throw her back in with the others. Right now, it’s time for lunch.”

  “Fine by me,” the assistant replied, without a pause in his typing. “I’m starved.”

  The rapid clicks of the keys slowed and became distorted. Leonora’s blood was on fire as it made its way through her veins, taking with it the latest series of human medications. Each injection had been worse than the previous. How much more could her weakened form endure?

  With his glasses still in his hands, the graying scientist lowered his face closer to hers. “How do you feel?”

  The twinkle she saw in his eyes was unmistakable. “Go to blazes!” Leonora growled. When he left her side on a chuckle, her hackles rose. “You will get yours. I promise.”

  The room grew black and began to swirl. It reminded Leonora of sailing through the stars aboard her brother’s ship. Challen had allowed her to pilot Star Gazer many times. She might never partake in her favorite pastime again.

  The recollection of her brother’s handsome face brought an onset of tears. Challen had been so adamant about her not participating in the science expedition. It all seemed like yesterday, but in fact, a season and a tide has passed.

  Leonora coughed. Her lungs refused to accept the air that was saturated with the blood of her friends. Every cell in the remaining shell that was her body cried out in pain. She was freezing, yet she felt the immense heat escape her sickened form.

  What is happening? She no longer felt she could rely on her senses, or the clarity of her once-sharp mind.

  A light appeared. Like a beacon of hope, it pulled her out of the uncomfortable darkness. A small portion of it turned a dark blue. The larger part became a golden yellow, surrounding the blue. A face formed, and a warm, cozy feeling flickered to life within her hollow center. It was difficult to believe she could feel something in her dead soul. Without a doubt, it was because of this shining beacon: Rick McCall.

  A part of her no longer trusted freely. It had been destroyed along with her friends. This part refused to accept that McCall had actually returned for her, an alien. The other side of her—the part that struggled to survive—was extremely grateful and deeply touched.

  Challen had taught her to give a being the benefit of the doubt. “Never judge all by the actions of a few,” he had said. That was somewhat difficult to do when a voyage meant for research and exploration turned into a survival trip.

  Still, the only route to survival was to make an ally of someone of this planet. It was the only way to raise the odds in their favor. True, she did not know the first thing about Rick McCall—only that he had taken the first step to being called a friend. But she did trust her brother’s wisdom. Therefore, Leonora will place her life in Rick’s hands. She prayed her trust was not misplaced.

  The blue sedan raced down the freeway. Rick chose to bypass his rented hotel room and head straight for his ranch home in Phoenix.

  Ten fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel, instead of around Tigif’s neck. Rick’s jaw hurt from the amount of clenching he had done. The sight of Leonora wrapped up in Tigif’s arms deeply disturbed him. The manner in which the tiger caressed her face, arm, and back was a distraction. Each time the cat caught him looking, he smugly kissed Leonora’s lips and tightened his embrace.

  The thought of them as lovers made Rick’s stomach churn more viciously. He considered, more than once, stopping by the roadside to toss the cat out. He knew it was crazy. He had no business thinking along those lines. Nevertheless, he was unable to keep from wanting to skin the cat alive.

  Tigif had revealed the bag carried several bracelets he called wristguards. The scientists had taken the wristguards from the Oceanans when they first arrived at the lab. The humans had tried to figure out how the strange bracelets worked. When told of the instability of the devices—and how one can blow a hole in the ground the size of two football fields if mishandled—they immediately gave up trying and placed the large bracelets in the safe.

  Tigif had explained it was not true. They simply did not want the human scientists to learn about their technology. The wrist-guards were normally worn only by the Seacats—the warriors of his race. His king, Oren, had made a onetime exception. He had allowed the scientists to use the wristguards because built into the bangles was a deceptor device, which allowed them to look human by removing the feline markings on their skin and adjusting their skin pigmentation.

  Rick secretly watched Leonora against his better judgment. She must’ve been a looker once. His jaw tightened, and he touched his scar. I have to remember my promise.

  He pulled into the two-car garage. They entered through a small office. The dining room was across from it. Turning right in the hallway, they passed the kitchen on the left and entered the living room at the end.

  Rick pointed to the right side, to the short hallway that led off to two more doors. “Through that hallway is a guest room. You can place her in there.”

  He made a left, continuing through a third hallway that led to the master bedroom. The room was big enough to host a king-size bed, an armoire, and two side tables. No light filtered
through the heavy drapes that covered the bay window. The room was painted tan. No pictures or artwork hung on the walls. Rick had donated everything Mary had touched and sold his old house.

  Lance had bought the minimum furnishings and accents to keep the two-bedroom, two-bath house from appearing too empty. Lance had said Rick was depressed as it was and needed something to cheer him up, so he had his mother decorate the house for Rick. Rick had never told either of them that it did not work.

  He returned to the guestroom with extra clothes for both aliens. “Here.” He rudely tossed a pair of black jeans and a plain shirt with buttons down the front at Tigif’s face. He missed his target, for the feline caught the garments before contact.

  He pointed to the hallway, to a closed door beside the bedroom. “The shower is behind that door. I won’t guarantee the clothes will be a perfect fit, but they will have to do. Give me your clothes, and I’ll dispose of them.”

  He examined Leonora’s flushed cheeks. Her feline features were limited to skin tone. His opinion was settled. With or without the device activated, underneath all the dirt and bruises, the woman had the potential of being a beauty to behold.

  What was he thinking? Rick shook his head. “How is she doing?”

  “Not good.” Tigif wiped his sneer with his dirty sleeve. “Her fever will not cease. It continues to worsen each time it flares.”

  “McCall?” Leonora’s raspy voice interrupted them.

  Rick dropped to her side. “I’m here, sweetheart.” He saw that Tigif stiffened at the endearment. It pleased him to give the cat a dose of his own medicine.

  “Do not let them hurt him. Please. Promise me, you will get Tigif off this planet.”

  There was an unexpected twinge at Rick’s chest. He clenched his jaw. He had to admit that he was impressed. Not many people would consider placing someone else before themselves when faced with death. It was an honorable act, and Rick commended her. Still, it irritated him to have to protect the orange –and-black striped tiger.

  “I promise,” he reassured her.