Regaining Command Read online

  "How?"

  Donny indicated the vid screen on his watch. “She's at the bar."

  "How did you do that?” Jonah seemed indignant. “This is my place. How did you get access to the security feeds?"

  "I'm a Tribunal soldier.” He opened the doors. “We can access anything."

  The bar was noisy and crowded. Elise slammed a shot back and waved the glass for another. Donny gripped her arm. “You've had enough."

  She twisted to try and get out of his grasp. “I've only just begun."

  "You're mad at me. Don't take it out on the rest of the men. They won't be able to help themselves and I'll have to kill them."

  Her grey eyes shot shards of ice at him. “Fine. But get your fucking hands off me."

  He dropped his hands and she slid off the barstool. Several men pressed forward, and he glared at them until they backed off. She sashayed out the door, and he sighed as he followed. She was a man's wet dream walking, and didn't even know it.

  They reached her quarters, and she plopped on her couch and crossed her arms. “Well, what now? Do we play Sky Chess?” She sneered.

  His eyebrows rose. “That might be safer than the games you like to play."

  She pointed a finger at him. “Look, you may not want me, but other guys do.” She took a breath, and he stopped her with a raised hand.

  "What the hell makes you think I don't want you?” He glared at her. “Are you crazy?"

  She stared at him. “You've turned me down—"

  "You kicked me in the nuts,” he responded.

  "But—"

  The vid phone jangled and Donny groaned.

  It was Jenia Carstairs. “Jenia!” Elise's tone was warm and friendly. “How are you?"

  "Not good.” Jenia's usual professional demeanor was strained and tense. “There's been a murder."

  "What? Where?"

  "At the Asberek Moon. The thing is, the woman looks a lot like you. Jonah says she could have been your doppelganger.” Jenia bit her lip. “I think someone is trying to kill you, and they're not using explosives anymore. They're using the VFR."

  * * * *

  "I was so afraid it was you.” Dr. Jenia Carstairs sighed with relief when Elise arrived in the conference room. Jenia's long, dark hair was pulled back in a tight chignon, and her lab coat was crisp and clean even after midnight. Elise marveled at the woman since she'd seen her naked and whipping Paul Lestrano with a slim branch in the jungle of Asberek. The contrast was stark.

  It was late at night as Elise sat at a conference table with Jenia, Paul Lestrano, ex-Tribunal soldier, and Donny. Numb and silent, she'd changed her clothes into her coveralls. She was tired, sore, and afraid. The only thing that kept her going was Donny's solid presence. And how sad is that?

  He hadn't said much when Jenia had suggested a meeting. His face resembled stone, professional and very harsh, as they had walked side by side to the conference room near the center of the Causeway. He didn't touch her or talk to her, but watched every corridor, every doorway. His tension was palpable and hers threatened to snap the tenuous hold she had on her sanity.

  Jenia frowned and Elise couldn't help the stab of envy when Paul held the woman's hand in a loose grip. “The file on Trista Locke is in front of you, Donny.” His brown eyes flicked to the folder. “She was in the VFR when an unknown person murdered her. Jonah Speigler said it was the same room you had been in forty minutes ago. The scene looked exactly like the Gershon killing last year."

  A cold hand clamped over Elise's heart. The Gershons were murdered by Philo Riggo in some insane attempt to purify the gene pool. The killings were brutal and bloody, so she'd heard. But when Riggo died when the ceiling of the Temple collapsed on him, Elise believed the danger was over.

  Had they been wrong? Had someone else been responsible for the murder of the innocent colonists? She gazed at Jenia with shock whipping through her. “I don't understand."

  Jenia bit her lip and stared at the table. Paul tightened his hold on her hand and spoke softly. “Trista Locke's extremities were ripped from her body just like Valerie Gershon's."

  "Was she pregnant?” Donny asked with a harsh tone.

  Jenia shook her head, and Elise relaxed. But Jenia's next words gave no comfort. “No. This time, she was only mutilated by her arms and legs being ripped from her torso. Whoever did this is filled with rage. The scene was messy, bloody, frantic. And I believe he's after Elise."

  "But why?” Elise threw up her hands. “All my discoveries are documented. Why would someone want to kill me?"

  Jenia bit her lip. “I'm not sure why you're the target, but I can tell you this isn't the work of someone influenced by alien DNA."

  "What?” Donny's eyes widened.

  Paul and Jenia exchanged a glance. Jenia's next words were slow and methodical. “I've discovered a way to block S.E.X. from the human bloodstream, but it has a nasty side effect.” She took a deep breath and met Elise's startled gaze with her steady one. “It creates violence in mammals. Every one of the test subjects I used was immune to the sexual intensity caused by S.E.X., but they were viciously violent to fellow animals.” She pointed at the crime scene photos in front of Donny. “It resembles that scene. In mice, they'll chew their opponents’ extremities off."

  Elise shuddered. “So you think this is the work of someone under the influence of a S.E.X. suppressant?"

  Jenia nodded. “It would explain the odd DNA we discovered at both crime scenes."

  "She can't work at the Temple.” Donny's features were tight and determined. “It's too isolated."

  "I agree,” Paul said immediately.

  "Now wait a minute—” Elise protested as she glared at Donny.

  "No, Elise. They're right."

  "But Jenia—Dr. Carstairs—all that work!” She almost wailed. “It could be lost. The Dormrela and the Ang have both tried to stake a claim with Earth Central and you know they might ban us from the site. I have to uncover the secrets there now!” Her nails bit into her palms. She was so close to finding what was buried there. How could they try and call her off now? With the ambassador here, she knew her time was short. Frustration burned her belly. It wasn't right. This killer was picking off her colleagues, threatening her life and had killed a woman who looked like her. Now, he was keeping her from her life's work. What else did she have?

  "Elise, I know how you feel.” Jenia leaned forward. “But we need you. No one can replace you, and I have to protect you."

  "No, I do. That's my job,” Donny corrected the doctor. Her eyebrows shot up, and she glanced from Donny to Elise.

  "Only if that's what Elise wants.” Jenia frowned. “You can request someone else. Paul will do it, if that's what you want."

  For a moment, Elise stared into Donny's face. To have him with her day after day was a torment and a pleasure. She wanted him, and only him. Eventually, she was well aware what would happen between them.

  And then what?

  But as protection went, he was the best. Trained to be a ruthless killer, completely devoted to keeping her alive and absolutely willing to sacrifice himself, he was the best choice.

  "I want Donny.” She met Jenia's gaze. Every nuance of her response was true.

  She wanted him. Period. In her bed, in her life and as her own personal Tribunal soldier. One out of three wasn't bad.

  Dr. Carstairs nodded. “Done.” She glared at Donny. “I hope you know what you're doing."

  "I hope so, too.” Donny's gaze never left Elise's face.

  "I'm tired. Can we go now?” Elise stood.

  "You go. Donny, can you make daily reports to Paul for me? He'll be your contact.” She smiled. “He can always find me."

  "Fine. What about Captain Tarune? Will you update him?” Donny nodded at Paul.

  "I'll keep him informed,” Paul acknowledged.

  As they returned to her quarters, Elise wondered if she would ever understand the inner workings of this part of the galaxy.

  Only six months ea
rlier, she'd believed the Ang were a friendly, helpful race and the Dormrela were a mystery. The Ang passed on information about the Dormrela indicating they were a warlike, violent race, but everything Elise uncovered showed a thoughtful, closed culture.

  Secretive, they were reluctant to contact strangers, but Jenia Carstairs had earned their respect when she attempted to save a Dormrelian pilot. Their anatomy reinforced the idea of a brutal people with massive muscle, four arms and hard scales that covered their bodies.

  She shot a sidelong glance at Donny. What had it been like to morph slowly into a Dormrelian? Had it been painful? Exhilarating? She was afraid to ask the questions since the experience had been so traumatic for him.

  To see him now, she'd never have known he was injected with Dormrelian DNA. The scales were completely gone now, and his body was normal sized, but he'd gone through months of genetic repair to become the man who strode beside her.

  Even without the rough scales and sorrow in his eyes, he was attractive, dominant. She sighed. Whatever made her think the man would want to relieve the ache inside her? He couldn't know her experiences in the VFR, with Jonah or any sexual device didn't relieve the burning need she carried within.

  Only he could.

  They reached her quarters and he stopped outside her door. “Shall I sleep out here?"

  She stared at him. What would he say if she begged him to sleep with her? Fuck her? She shook her head slightly.

  The chemical, S.E.X., was bubbling in her blood again and warred with her exhausted body. Tears stung her eyes, and her hands shook as she pressed the buttons to open her door.

  And found her quarters in shambles.

  Her gasp of surprise made Donny yank her out of the doorway and haul her behind him. She peeked around his solid body and stared.

  Clothes were shredded on the floor. Her vid phone and computer were smashed. They still smoked and crackled from the fading electronics. Her bed was slashed again and again. Elise whimpered.

  Donny turned and pressed her head into his shoulder. “Don't look, honey. I'll take care of you."

  His tone was so warm, so comforting, that the tears she'd held back fell on his shirt. She was sobbing and couldn't stop.

  As he contacted Paul Lestrano with his wrist communicator, she tried to contain the overwhelming terror. Where could she go and be safe? How would she be able to do anything—work, hang out with her friends, fuck—with someone out there ready to rip her to shreds?

  "Shh.” Donny lifted her as if she weighed nothing and carried her away from that room where her whole life lay in shattered pieces on the floor. “I'll take care of you, Elise.” He placed her in front of a VFR door and his fingers flicked over the controls. When the doors whished open, he hustled her in. “I've put a lock on this. Only I have access. There's no way anyone can break the code and get in. You're safe, honey.” With her face buried in his chest, she drank in the smooth, soft words as they flowed over her. His arms cuddled her, and when he bent down to place her on a soft cushion, she blinked her eyes.

  He'd chosen a beautiful garden with Asberekian ferns and tall trees. Light was filtered like sunlight through fog. A waterfall filled the air with a gurgling sound that echoed through the surrounding vegetation. It was such a contrast, a change, from the violence she knew made up Donny's existence she wondered where it had come from. “This place is beautiful. Is it a real place?” Her voice was still thick with tears.

  "It's real to me."

  "You know what I mean."

  He was silent for a long time, and she thought he wasn't going to answer her. Finally, she glanced at his face and caught an embarrassed, uncomfortable expression there. “My therapist,” he said with a twist of his lips, “said I ought to have a happy place."

  "And Asberek has been happy for you?"

  "Some of it has been.” He played with a strand of her hair.

  She stared at him. “What part?"

  He met her gaze with a serious one of his own. “Why did you stop me? You wanted me."

  There was no chance for interruption now. Elise took a deep breath. “You don't know me.” It was lame, childish. And a lie. She shot a glance at him and noted his eyebrows rose.

  "You're lying.” He sounded curious, not angry. “Why would you lie to me about why you locked yourself in the bathroom?” As he spoke, his hands stroked her back in lazy circles.

  Why did she lie to him? Because the truth was pathetic. Do you tell a man that you fell in love with him when he fucked you in a jungle clearing? Do you admit that you obsessed about him for months until you finally accepted it was just the chemical in the atmosphere that made him want you? Do you admit that you use his visage for a hologram that dealt out delicious pain?

  The truth was unacceptable. She shifted to put distance between them and he followed. Another idea took shape. Distract him.

  She spun away from him and smiled. It was a smile to get his sexual attention and his eyes narrowed in response. She cleared her throat. “Prompt Fleming #28."

  The VFR did nothing.

  She raised her eyebrows at Donny. He slid across the cushion and stalked her. “You're playing a dangerous game, Elise."

  "I like games,” she told him and she didn't back away. “Let me have my fantasy."

  He towered over her, his skin a whisper from hers. “No."

  "Why not?” She glared at him now. He'd asked her questions. Didn't he want the answers?

  "I want the truth, not a fantasy.” Heat from his body brushed her skin, and she stared at him.

  "I can't tell you.” She dropped her gaze and started for the door.

  He gripped her arm in a bruising grip. “You'll tell me or I swear, I'll take a whip to you."

  She trembled, not with fear, but with arousal. His eyes widened as he studied her response to him. She reached out a hand to shove him away, make room between them. His face hardened. “Not this time."

  "I'm tired."

  His hand manacled around her upper arm, tightened, and she gasped. “Are you? I can smell you.” His nostrils flared. “You smell sweet and hot."

  She closed her eyes as his words flowed over her. He yanked her towards him and bent her backwards, his mouth millimeters from hers. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't shoot that smart mouth off. You think you're tired now—” He plundered her lips. It was no gentle caress or even a slide over her mouth, he assaulted her with his entire body. He forced her mouth open and thrust his tongue inside to dominate her. She moaned, and one of his hands grabbed a handful of her hair, twisting his fingers in the strands until her scalp tingled.

  When she collapsed on the ground, he was on top of her, his mouth demanding and needy.

  He broke the kiss long enough to whisper dark things in her ear. “I want to bruise you. I want to mark you as mine, like an animal. I want to bite you in so many places that you'll be black and blue everywhere. MINE."

  On the last word, his teeth sank into the flesh of her breast, sending pain and pleasure shooting through her body. She jerked. He growled.

  He had ripped her coveralls as he fought through her clothing to get to her skin, and now he yanked the material away like paper. She had wanted to play games and the beast had come out in him.

  He suited action to his words and marked her skin on her neck, breast and the inside of her thigh. She thrashed her head as his mouth sucked on her skin and his teeth nipped her. When she tried to sit up, he slammed her onto her back. “It's not enough.” He glared at her.

  "Prompt Pasquel #89.” He held her gaze as the computer complied with his demand. She was immobile beneath him, throbbing from pain and need.

  He swung his body off hers but gave her no chance for escape.

  The scene had changed. A dungeon setting now surrounded them. Her mouth dropped open as she noted the wooden bench with hooks on its underside. There was a large harness type swing. Also, a thick wooden structure with only a hood and rope hanging from it stood in the center.

 
Donny didn't give her time to respond, but dragged her to the wooden plank with the rope and yanked her hands over her head. He tied her hands, and she noted a pulley on one side where he could lift her to hang like a piece of meat.

  But he didn't do it. She stood with her arms clasped above her and he stared at her. “All you have to say is you don't want this."

  "And you'll let me go."

  He groaned and slammed a clenched fist into the polished wood. “Yes. Damn it.” He turned his back on her.

  "I do want this.” She gazed at his rigid spine and licked her lips in anticipation. “Do it."

  He didn't turn around. “We need to understand your limits. What do you do with Jonah to keep things from going too far?"

  She was confused. “What do you mean?"

  He whirled around, and she gasped at the rage that flooded his face. “You had rough sex without some kind of safeguard in place?"

  She glared at him. “I trust Jonah.” And I trust you.

  "Give me a word. Something easy.” The anger disappeared as he strode to a wall covered in whips and crops and floggers.

  "I—I can't think of anything.” All the blood had rushed from her brain and pooled on the surface of her skin where goose bumps dotted everywhere. Her nipples were hard pebbles and ached to be touched, pinched, used. She seemed to have no thought for anything but what Donny's hands would do.

  He stared at her for a moment. “You'll say ‘red’ or ‘red light’ if you need me to stop."

  She blinked and tried to focus. His gaze held hers and he waited for her response. “Yes."

  "Repeat it.” He ordered.

  "I'll say ‘red’ or ‘red light’ if I want to stop.” She took a shuddering breath. “But what are you going to do?"

  He yanked his pants off and kicked them away. “I'm going to give you what you need.” His dark tone made her damp. “I'm going to make you come from that dark place you keep very well hidden, even from your sex partners.” He stood close to her so the tips of her breasts were teased by his skin. “Do you think I didn't read up on you? Do you think I don't know?"

  Fear robbed Elise of any arousal. “What do you mean?"

  His fingers crept along her jaw and threaded in her hair. Then, he tightened his grip and jerked her head back. “You like pain. It turns you on."