AFamiliarFace Page 3

  She quickly explained about The Python Palace and Rattler. Her description of her boss seemed to stun him for a moment, and then he was muttering under his breath, a benediction of sorts.

  “Very good, Mallory. Very good. Now open wide and swallow your prize.”

  Having never been a big fan of oral sex unless the one on the receiving end, Mallory didn’t understand her need to taste him. She greedily accepted his thick shaft and licked, stroked and sucked for all she was worth. The taste of him, of their combined scents, made her crazy for more. Having him writhe and moan above her as she fondled his velvety sac and sucked on his cock brought her to closer to climax than she could have imagined.

  “Yes, little spy, that’s it,” he rasped as he pushed, stretching her lips tight. He gripped her hair, firmly but gently, and thrust. “Swallow my essence and accept my gift.”

  She tried to nod but couldn’t move around his thick shaft. He tasted so good, like Ambrosia of the Eternal. She grew wetter the harder she sucked, and when he tensed above her, her vaginal walls spasmed and she came. Closing her mouth tightly around him, she heard his hoarse shout and swallowed large mouthfuls of his seed.

  He tasted pure, like strong magic and warring male, and she couldn’t understand why she felt their connection so strongly. Strangers a short time ago, yet she felt as if she knew him, had always known him.

  Slowly withdrawing from between her lips, Core leaned down and placed a soft, loving kiss on her mouth. “That, Mallory, was more than I deserved, and so much more than I could have expected.”

  He lay next to her and groaned. “You’re no Phrellian. But what you are, I’m afraid, will not be easy to accept.”

  Chapter Three

  Core had prayed, and he had sacrificed. But nothing could have prepared him for her. He stared at the woman, his gift, and wondered if he would be allowed to keep her once he had done what he promised.

  “Okay, big guy. What exactly am I?” She humored him, he could see it in her captivating eyes. Flecks of brown and green co-mingled to produce a color so fantastic it must have been god-sent.

  He studied her, noting the slim yet muscular nature of her body, a telling sign she was no stranger to physical exertion. Her breasts… He paused to linger over her supple perfection. Wonderful and soft, plentiful to satisfy a large male, or a small babe with honey-colored skin.

  Thoughts of her with child startled him out of his fantasy and made him focus again on the here and now. What to tell her? That she was indeed the messenger sent by Ratlaharan? Cuwenicu— the one who would show his people that the Talians would again rise to conquer and to prosper. She looked like a sexual slave, one that made his cock throb and his heart race. But why would his god send a woman when a warrior was needed? His confusion doubled.

  “You said his name is Rattler?”

  She frowned and rose up on her elbow, plumping her breasts in a most distracting manner. Perhaps the Phrellians had sent her. Never before had he been so preoccupied by a woman’s form. “You can’t not know Rattler. He’s the guy you had to go through to use The Lounge.”

  “What is this Lounge?”

  “You know. Pink walls, black floor, vids and music and, well, hell, anything you want if you’re tight with Rattler.”

  He didn’t understand but wanted to know more. “This man you call Rattler. He has gray skin, the snake marker, and piercings?”

  “Metal rods and balls through his skin.”

  “Ah.” Holy signs of reflection and worth. “They were black, were they not, these piercings?”

  She nodded. “But why—”

  “You, Mallory, are a gift.” Might as well blurt it out. Hell, from what she said, she’d met Ratlaharan face to face. Who was he to question the reasons of his god? “The creature you call Rattler is indeed the father of the Talian race.”

  “Well, he does look like you.” She stared at him, and he wondered if she realized how precious their differences were. Despite the hoards of females coupling in the nest, none had her strength, her inner well of purity that he could feel just by looking at her.

  “I don’t think you understand. Ratlaharan is the being to whom we pray, the deity to whom we sacrifice.”

  “Deity?” She laughed, long and hard. “I’m sorry. It’s just that the thought of Rattler as a god is too funny for words. I mean…” Her mirth slowly faded, and he could almost read her thoughts. “You’ve never been to The Lounge?”

  He shook his head, waiting.

  “And you’ve never met Rattler.”

  “Not personally, but spiritually, I believe, yes.”

  She blinked at him and fell back on the bed, crossing her forearm over her eyes. “This cannot be happening. Frank the rat, MacNafee, a double shift…. And to cap it off with the best sex of my life with Rattler’s twin? No way.”

  “His twin?” Core couldn’t help preening at the off-hand compliment. “Best sex of your life?”

  “Look, I’m in a crisis here,” she barked.

  He grinned. A woman not only of great beauty, but of fire as well. While she muttered under her breath, he took his time studying her, his blood heating at the sight of his seed covering her thighs and the delightful strip of hair over her mound. So succulent. His mouth watered. How would she taste now, her essence mixed with his?

  “Core.”

  “Hmm?” He lazily met her gaze, surprised to see her annoyed. “What’s wrong, kina?” Sweetheart. Hell, he really was going soft, just as Fenin had insulted earlier. But what did he expect, having been so long without a fight or a female?

  “I’m trying to talk to you and you’re too busy ogling my… me, to pay attention!”

  He laughed, amused at her senseless modesty. “You are very pleasing to me, kina. I would know you again,” he murmured, helpless to stop his growing erection. Just the thought that she’d been sent by Ratlaharan made him more than determined to claim her.

  “Yes, well.” She stared at his cock and licked her lips, and he groaned, his body humming with need. Her eyes widened, and she blushed when she made a similar sound. “I think I’d like to know you again too, but right now I need to know where I am and how I got here.”

  He started to reach for her, to offer comfort the best way he knew how, when someone triggered the alarm. Damn it. “Dress yourself, kina. Hurry.”

  He hastily threw on his battle dress and boots, pleased when she stood dressed and ready. He drew her to his side, placing her hand on his belt. “No matter what we face, you stay behind me at all times. And don’t let go. Understand?”

  She nodded, fingering the shiny band around her wrist.

  They left the room and walked quickly, silently, down the quiet corridors of the sleepers’ berth. The fighting must have driven his men above. Clenching his teeth, and suddenly disgusted with himself that he hadn’t personally surveyed lockdown before leaving with Mallory, he drew hard on his fury, gratified that the anger made him feel more powerful than he’d been in months.

  “Hold tight,” he growled, aware her fingers gripped the tak hide fiercely. His teeth itched to tear into enemy flesh, and his sight grew clearer as his True Self--The Snake--grew strong.

  But for all his battle lust, he wasn’t prepared for what soon met his eyes.

  From a dark corner at the top of the stairs, he surveyed the pleasure grounds. The unrestricted area of the nest was covered in Talian blood and entrails. Several Phrellian soldiers effectively wiped a path through his men using crying and helpless Talian females as shields.

  What made the Talians strong caretakers and effective warriors also made them vulnerable to the enemy. Since a Talian male was unable to cause harm to a female of the species, his men were powerless against this onslaught.

  “Why aren’t they doing anything?” Mallory whispered, looking around him.

  “We cannot harm the females.”

  She stared, wide-eyed. “Why not? I mean, you wouldn’t want to, sure. But this is war. And if you don’t knock them out
of the way, those vamp things are going to kill you.”

  “Really?” He glared down at her, furious at the truth. “I am truly thankful for your insight.”

  “Look, don’t blame me for this. I didn’t—”

  A loud cry from one of the females caused him to flinch, and he shook as she fell to the ground. A Phrellian stood with her heart still beating and bloody in his hand.

  “Oh, that is just enough.”

  He agreed and fought through years of conditioning grilled into him from birth. Like it or not, he would have to push the females aside. Perhaps injure one or two in the doing. Though it might kill him to do so, it would be the only way to keep his remaining warriors alive.

  But before he could move, Mallory skirted around him into the nesting ground.

  “You there, vampire. Freeze!” She pointed her hand at the nearest Phrellian and murmured foreign words. The Phrellian, the Talian female he held, and all the females behind him suddenly froze. Ice literally appeared on their bodies.

  The silence was deafening. He stared at Mallory, amazed. He’d never before seen such power, such skill.

  “How did you do that?” he rasped, immediately standing by her side, ready to provide cover and/or aid.

  “I’m not sure,” she said breathlessly, watching as his men quickly slaughtered the stunned Phrellians now unprotected. “I was just trying to slow that one in the lead, when a surge of power hit me hard.” She met his gaze, hers vulnerable and confused. “The power in me feels alien.” She laughed almost hysterically at her words, making little sense. “Like a gray alien, with a big snake on his body.”

  “I empowered you?” he asked, amazed. By Ratlaharan’s sword, Mallory had defeated the attack with a wave of her hand and a few words. Think what she could do against a fleet of them?

  “Somehow your strength became mine. This is all so very, very strange. And trust me when I say I know all about weird.”

  “What?” He tried to pay attention to her, but several Phrellians thought to eradicate the woman who had soundly trounced them.

  “Go ahead.” She waved him toward the enemy. “I dealt with Frank earlier. You can handle these guys.”

  Pleased she wouldn’t be squeamish about the necessity, he beheaded three of the attackers coming for her and skewered the fourth. Still writhing on the tip of his sword, the remaining Phrellian hissed and cursed, raking at Core with his venomous talons. Slicing off one of the Phrellian’s offending hands, Core watched with satisfaction as the creature screamed.

  “Why attack here and now? How did you know about this place?”

  The creature refused to answer and glared at Mallory. “Abomination.”

  “Agreed. You are that.” Core withdrew his sword from the Phrellian’s chest and watched as the hole in his torso slowly healed. “But you haven’t answered my question.” In a move preternaturally fast, Core bit into the Phrellian’s neck, injecting a painful spurt of venom.

  The Phrellian screeched in pain and writhed, falling to the ground in a tortured heap.

  “I ask again. How did you know of this place? Answer me and I will make your death quick, easy.”

  The Phrellian moaned, clutched his stomach, and cried tears of black blood. “Traitor in your midst. Came to us,” he ended almost soundlessly. He tried to yank off his ears, ripping so hard at one pointed lobe that the flesh began to give. “Please,” he begged. “No more. Eating me alive.”

  Core beheaded this one as easily as the last, but his thoughts drowned in the Phrellian’s information. A traitor within the nest? It made no sense. He stared down at the dead Phrellian, wishing for more time to think. But their safety had been compromised, and everyone needed to move.

  He looked around him, noting the silence within the nest, the utter stillness of his men waiting for his commands. “Luar, Fenin, Blite, gather the others. Go to the underground and await me there. Make sure you take all the women as well. All of them,” he added, looking to the fallen Talian lying in her own blood. He turned back to Mallory. “We have to hurry. There may be more of them outside.”

  She nodded and followed him, saying nothing. Core almost wished she’d protest or beg for answers. It would have put his suspicions to rest. But Mallory didn’t argue. She moved like a warrior, making him think she had battled and fought before. Not as a Phrellian spy, he reminded himself. As a tool of Ratlaharan, the Cuwenicu. She had to be. Nothing else would explain their connection, his ability to physically release into the woman. And she had just saved his men from death and worse at the Phrellians’ hands.

  Worried for her all over again, he turned to her. “Remember, stay—”

  “Behind you, I know,” she said wryly, but he could feel her violent grip on his belt. Her nerves relieved him, and he begged his god’s forgiveness for having doubted him—and his gift—at all.

  Core led them out of the main entrance of the nest into the sandy inner region of his world, Horum Veirus—The God’s Ground. A small Phrellian shuttle, but one larger than the Talians’ best battle cruiser, waited expectantly for the return of its crew just within sight. Using his inner eye, Core noted several Phrellian guards patrolling the surrounding wooded area. He tensed, knowing he couldn’t allow the ship the ability to leave and possibly pursue his people. But how to defeat so many? Likely close to a hundred remained onboard a vessel of that size.

  “Uh, Core? You’re not really thinking about attacking that ship, are you?” Mallory goggled at the craft, then looked up at the moonspun sky and gasped. “Holy shit, there are three moons up there. Where the hell am I?”

  “We have more important things to worry about.” He couldn’t help sounding harsh. Looking for vulnerabilities in the vessel, he wished he’d taken Luar with them. His second in command knew a hell of lot more about spacecraft than he did.

  “More important than an alien planet? Hell. Don’t think we’re not going to discuss this later, as well as your attitude.” She sniffed and glanced at the ship. “So what do you want to do? Kill all the baddies on board or disable the craft?”

  He turned to face her, in shock. “You can do that?”

  She shrugged. “It’ll use my most expensive charm, and a hell of a lot of magic, but that’s what it’s there for. And seeing as how nice you’ve been to me, and how rude your vamp enemies were, I’d say killing a few will feel just like icing a few ghouls.”

  He didn’t understand much of what she said, but he caught her gist well enough. “Will this endanger you?” Funny, but the protective nature his kind felt for their females started kicking in as he stared at Mallory, and he quickly sent up mental guards should the woman suddenly develop that unnerving ability to read minds.

  “Nah. If you’re here to protect my body, I can astral project my way around the ship to find their gas tank. You take away the fuel, you deaden the ship. But if you’d prefer we kill them all…?”

  “I’d like to gut them one by one, but we don’t have that kind of time. If we don’t soon incapacitate their ship, they will kill our surviving nest.”

  “Right.” She sighed. “This feels just like what I left. Lots of work, little appreciation.”

  Her woeful tone made him smile. “Oh, no, kina. Should this be accomplished, there will be no end to my appreciation. Count on it.”

  She blushed prettily and winked at him. “Well then, Core, hold onto your hat. And make sure you don’t damage anything vital while watching over me.” She stared knowingly at three approaching Phrellians armed to the teeth with blades. “Because I want an apology and some heavy duty ‘appreciation’ when this is over.”

  “Done,” he growled before launching himself at the enemy. Dispatching the three took little time, but the next oncoming squad would prove a challenge. If only he could have spirited Mallory away with the others. But he was war leader and had responsibilities. Besides, leaving this woman with anyone but himself he couldn’t do.

  His hormones kicked into high gear at the thought of any vile Phrellian attac
king this female, and The Snake ascended, his tattoo winding off his body as his true self was made flesh.

  Mallory gave a startled cry. “What the hell?”

  As he systematically destroyed the enemy around him, he only hoped The Snake wouldn’t distract her too badly. They really needed to disable that ship, and quickly, before the next few squads reached them.

  Chapter Four

  Mallory did her best to ignore the living snake slithering off Core’s torso. Large, with black, purple and blue tiger stripes, a diamond shaped head, and gray-green eyes, the snake looked as alien as the landscape surrounding her. Three moons.

  She shook her head, impressed at Core’s ferocity in dealing with his enemy. The Phrellians could easily have passed for vampires at home, except these creatures possessed long white hair and had decidedly pasty, almost sallow complexions as opposed to a vampire’s alabaster white skin.

  Watching how casually the Phrellians disposed of life and that nasty trick of thrusting a hand through that woman’s heart, Mal had no problem whatsoever throwing her lot in with the Talians. Though they might turn out to be as vicious as the Phrellians didn’t quite leave her mind, especially watching Core trounce over a dozen of his enemy. But the Talians hadn’t harmed any women that she’d seen, and Core had been more than tender with her.

  She blushed, amazed the male wreaking havoc out there with a giant snake at his side was the same man she’d made love to not half an hour ago.

  Hecate’s curse, but she wanted him still. She watched the play of muscles along his back as he hefted his swords, the sheen glistening skin, the gray now a vibrant off-white mottled with color. His thighs strained under the weight of two Phrellians, and she took an unconscious step forward, intending to help.

  “Dammit, woman. Stop ogling my ass and project.” Core grunted and threw his attackers to the ground.

  Ogling his ass. Not quite, but close enough. Geesh, did he have eyes in the back of his head? She glanced at him and blew out a relieved breath to see that he didn’t.