Alien Mate Page 9

  The healer shrugged. “Not so many. There isn’t a need to. We’re all acclimated to its effects. A healer or a healer’s assistant would know.”

  “Icha brought the biscuits,” Torg said grimly.

  Stovak’s eyes widened.

  “She would know, wouldn’t she?” Torg asked.

  “She never finished her healing apprenticeship,” Stovak said, “but probably.”

  “Icha tried to poison me?” I gasped.

  “I don’t know about that…” The healer looked uncomfortable.

  “I do.” Torg’s nostrils flared as he exhaled. “It surprised me when she delivered a mating gift; Icha is not a giving person.”

  Oh, she was a giving person all right. She’d given me a bout of vomiting like I’d never experienced in my entire life. That bitch. “What did I ever do to her?”

  “You got the man she wanted,” Darq said from the rear of the chamber. I hadn’t realized he’d entered. “Icha isn’t used to rejection.” He moved closer. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better now.” My stomach had calmed, but my temper flared. I itched to punch Icha in the macha. Okay, she didn’t like me—I hadn’t much cared for her either, but I hadn’t poisoned her. What kind of person did that?

  Stovak repacked his bag and stood up. “She’ll be fine. For the next day or so, have her eat light, drink lots of water—and avoid macha biscuits.”

  “Thank you for coming so quickly,” Torg said. “Please don’t mention what occurred to anybody.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  The healer left. Torg brushed the hair from my forehead and tucked the hides around me. “I’m sorry you suffered because of me.”

  I could get used to being cossetted. “It wasn’t your fault. It was that she-witch.”

  Darq folded his arms and observed us. “What are you going to do?”

  Torg sighed and stood up. “Since she came of age, Icha has incited discord. She has instigated countless fights. I haven’t done anything because men choose their actions. They do not have to fight over her if they don’t wish to. This time, she has gone too far. She deliberately hurt another person. My mate. I will not stand for it. Icha will be expelled from the clan.”

  Darq sucked in a breath. “There will be an uproar. When she is between mates, Icha shares her favors with many. The men will not appreciate losing her.”

  So she was a slut besides being a bitch. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so catty, but the woman had poisoned me! Deliberately and with malice aforethought.

  “What would you have me do? She tried to hurt Starr! If any man had done the same, we would expel him without hesitation or question.”

  “I’m not saying you shouldn’t. In fact, I would do the same to protect my mate, if I had one. Just be aware of the possible reaction.”

  “Icha goes,” Torg said decisively.

  Warmth pervaded my entire body at the way he stood up for me. No one on Terra had done that. No one had spoken on my behalf. Not a single friend had visited me in prison. Nobody dared to mess with the Carmichaels. Maridelle had defended me, but, as my attorney, she’d received compensation and government protection to do it.

  For a man to be willing to take on his entire tribe for me meant the world.

  I could afford to be generous, to give Icha the benefit of the doubt. A frozen wasteland stretched between this camp and the next, and there was that tiny, tiny iota of doubt as to her culpability. I took a breath. “What if she didn’t realize the wheestile would have noxious effects? The healer said it wasn’t common knowledge. Maybe she did just bring us a basket of biscuits.”

  Both Torg and Darq shook their heads.

  “She had enough healing training,” Torg said.

  “There are no coincidences when Icha is involved,” Darq added.

  I pulled the kel hide up to my chin. “It’s freezing out there.”

  “She won’t be in the cold for long,” Torg said. “There isn’t a single clan that wouldn’t take her in.”

  “Because she’s female?”

  “Because she’s female.”

  “Okay, then, you can banish her.”

  “I’m glad you won’t be upset about it, but it’s not your decision. It’s mine.” His face hardened, and I swear he thrust out his chest. His massive, muscled he-man chest. “After what she did, I would expel her whether you wanted me to or not.”

  I grinned. “I love it when you go all alpha.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Torg

  “How are you faring?” Enoki, council chief, fixed an assessing, speculative gaze on my mate. Perhaps I was being sensitive, but I did not appreciate the degree of interest in his expression or the level of solicitation in his tone.

  “She’s fine,” I answered.

  “Surely she can speak for herself.”

  “I’m fine,” Starr answered.

  “No problems adjusting?” Enoki asked.

  Starr tucked yellow hair behind her ear. “No, everything is good.”

  Good, unless you took into account that she’d been poisoned by a jealous tribe member. Good, unless you noticed the angry glares male clan members fired at her as we’d walked across the camp this morning. I’d banished Icha two days ago. Even though I’d informed the camp of the reason, the friendship that had been forged when I’d introduced my mate had been undermined. Starr, an alien, served as an easy scapegoat. As long as Icha provided favors to the camp, they were willing to overlook almost anything.

  “Glad to hear it,” Enoki said.

  He had no reason to doubt my honor. Did he think because I’d arrived late at the picking that I wouldn’t treat my mate well? “Was that the reason for your visit? To inquire about Starr’s welfare?”

  We had convened in one of the smaller chambers of my cave. Enoki had been here long enough for a fire to burn down to coals and had yet to inform me of the reason for his visit. Was he checking up on me? Or was he interested in Starr?

  “A week has passed since the females were paired with their mates. I thought it prudent to check on them. I am visiting all the camps. You’re my first stop. I assumed you would like an update on the exchange program as well.”

  “Go on,” I said.

  “The Terrans were quite pleased with the illuvian ore and will double the next shipment of females. Since some tribes didn’t receive any females in the lottery, the council has come up with a different plan. Each tribe will be allocated a certain number of chits based on size. Your tribe will receive two chits. It’s up to you as chief to decide who to give them to.”

  “That’s good news. The men will be pleased.” Additional females would give them something positive to focus on. We would hold our own lottery for the chits; I wouldn’t dare single out two men. How would I choose? It would be too difficult.

  “Before they departed, the Terrans left us with computer and communication equipment, but we have no one who can set it up or operate it. They didn’t have time to teach us,” Enoki said. “They suggested some of the females might be able to help.”

  He looked at my mate. “Do you know how to operate the equipment?”

  “I could figure it out.” She nodded enthusiastically. “It can’t be that much different from what I used on Terra. My friend Andrea Simmons would know how for sure. But I don’t know where she is. She was chosen by a man named Groman. Maybe you could ask her, too?”

  Enoki nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  “And my friend Tessa Chartreuse. She went with Loka.”

  “I’ll visit his camp today, as well.”

  “I’m positive with the three of us, we can get the equipment running.”

  “I had hoped you would say that. Perhaps we could set a time, say one week from today, for the three of you to convene at the meeting place?” Enoki smiled at her.

  Would he attend that meeting? I scowled.

  Starr glanced at me then smiled at Enoki. “Perfect!”

  “If you need anything at all, send word
to me,” the chief said.

  If my mate needed something. I would provide it. A growl rumbled in my throat.

  Enoki glanced at me, got the hint, and bade us farewell.

  “What’s your problem?” Starr jumped to her feet and glowered. “I’m going to the meeting place!”

  “Yes. Next week.”

  “I want to see my friends. You told me I could when I first came. Besides, I need do something. I’ve worked all my adult life. I can’t tan kel hide or cook over an open flame. Helping out with communications will give me something to do.”

  I lifted my hands and let them fall. “All good points.”

  “Then why are you mad?” she asked.

  “I’m not mad.”

  “You scowled when Enoki asked if I could help.”

  “Not because you want to see your friends. It’s normal to miss your own people.”

  “Then why?”

  Feelings arose that I couldn’t control, emotions I didn’t want to admit. Jealousy. Icha had shifted her attentions from one man to another. What if Starr did the same? I was only the leader of a clan. Enoki headed all the clans and had far greater power and wealth. He could offer her more than I. I’d promised to find her friends, yet the opportunity to meet with them had come from him. “Because you smiled at him. He offered you something I couldn’t.”

  Soft arms encircled my waist, and Starr pressed herself to my back. “Silly man.” She didn’t specify if she meant Enoki or me. “He can’t give me what you can—a place in your arms.”

  “He has arms,” I muttered.

  “They’re not yours. I only want you to hold me. Your body beside me.” She rubbed her cheek against my back. “You protect me, care for me, cook for me, hold my hair when I upchuck after one of your females poisons me.” She snorted.

  “You laugh, but I failed to protect you.”

  “You stood up for me. You chose me over Icha. You banished her against the wishes of your tribe.”

  “It was an easy choice.”

  “And that’s why I pick you.”

  I unfolded her arms and turned. “You would never leave me?”

  “You would have to banish me before that would happen.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Starr

  Fresh snow had pelted the ground overnight, drifting waist high. Torg led the way, taking short steps so I could follow in the depressions. Though I’d traveled this path once before, I recognized nothing. I never would have reached the meeting place without his guidance. Icha didn’t deserve sympathy, but I still felt sorry for her, cast out into this frozen, harsh land. Torg had assured me she would be fine. Another tribe would welcome her, no questions asked.

  He glanced back to check on me. I flashed him a thumbs-up, and he returned the gesture I’d taught him. It was spreading around camp. Other Dakonians had started using it.

  “We’re almost there!” he said.

  “Wonderful!” He took good care of me. How quickly and firmly I’d come to accept him as my mate. I don’t know if it was the way Torg had taken my side and stood up for me when Icha pulled her little stunt, or when he’d exposed his vulnerabilities after Enoki’s visit, but I’d come to a decision: I would stay.

  I must have been crazy to think of leaving anyway. Terra had nothing to offer me. Well, besides the climate. A woman could spend her entire life on Earth and not meet a man like Torg. He was strong, brave, caring, protective, and fantastic in the sack—or between the kel hides, as we liked to say here. I’d fallen in love with him.

  If further inducement were required—which it wasn’t—Dakon provided a haven from the Carmichaels. They couldn’t reach me here. So what if a black mark remained against my name? I didn’t live on Terra anymore. Here I was free, loved, and safe. Life was pretty damn good.

  I would be reunited with my friends from the ship. I even had a job! I would help to get the computer system up and running. Then the next order of business would be to contact Maridelle and tell her to forget the appeal. I didn’t want to waste her time. If the appeal came through, I would have to return for retrial, and I had no intention of doing that.

  One possible glitch in present and future happiness would be if the Dakonians learned of my murder conviction since they frowned on homicide. Torg and I had bonded, so he probably wouldn’t exile me, but I would hate to discover I was wrong. If my conviction became public, I would deny it and claim I’d embellished my criminal past to build “ship cred” with my fellow passengers. The Dakonians didn’t have the means to check facts and disprove my story. They couldn’t speak or read Universal Terran, and Andrea, Tessa, and I would be the only ones who knew how to use the communication system. My friends would keep my secret.

  Torg and I tromped into the clearing where the meeting place was located. A dozen smaller structures formed a half ring around the big lodge. “There are other buildings!” I stared. Upon arrival, I’d charged head down, blindly following the woman in front of me. I hadn’t seen anything but the stone lodge.

  Torg stopped. “You thought the meeting place was only a building? It’s the center of Dakon. The big building where we met is where the council convenes and we hold multi-clan meetings.” He pointed to one of the smaller buildings. “The storehouse holds the bounty of the summer harvest. Next to it is a trading post. If we have an excess, we exchange it there for an item we don’t have.”

  This was fascinating. I’d noticed next to nothing when I’d arrived. Beyond the structures lay a larger open field. I pointed. “Was that where the ship landed?”

  Torg nodded. “I believe so. It had left by the time I arrived.”

  Typical of how Terra did things. The crew hadn’t bothered to stick around to see how we were. We could consider ourselves lucky they’d landed the ship. They could have just slowed the craft, swooped in, and shoved us out the hatch.

  I returned focus to the village itself. Torg and I stood at its edge. I pointed to a small stone building. “What’s in there?”

  “That’s the records hall.”

  “Records? What kind of records?”

  “Births. Deaths. Matings. While you are setting up the communication system, I will record our mating.”

  For my peace of mind, I would assume he meant mating as in alien-law marriage and not a notation of consummation. Let’s have a little privacy here. Everyone assumed couples had sex, but we didn’t need to announce it, did we? I drew my brows together. “Wait—you have a written language?”

  “Of course we have a written language. How else would we keep records?”

  His matter-of-fact tone held no hint of censure, but my face heated at my prejudice. How else, indeed? Torg had explained Dakon had had a greater civilization; why assume they were illiterate?

  “I’m sorry. What do you use to write with?”

  “We mix ink out of ash and kel oil and hammer out paper from the fibrous stems of a plant. It takes a lot of work, so we don’t waste paper or ink. When our infrastructure was destroyed, we feared we would lose our history as well, so survivors wrote down their memories. Those records are preserved in big tomes. That’s how we know what happened.”

  “Could I learn to read Dakonian?”

  “You want to learn our language?”

  “I would like to know your history.” The more time I spent with him, the more my admiration for him and his people grew.

  “I will bring home some books and sheets of blank paper. Perhaps you would teach me your language as well?”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  “Our children will speak both our languages and know both our cultures,” he said softly.

  My heart filled with happiness, but doubt nipped at me. Torg and I came from two different alien races. What if our genetics weren’t compatible? Preliminary testing suggested they were, but it had yet to be proven. Nor would I put it past Terra to lie to get their hands on illuvian ore. I had seen my government in action. “I would like that, but what if we can’t produce children?”r />
  I knew for a fact they wouldn’t come right away in my case. I had a contraceptive implant. Without the medical device to remove it, we would have to wait for the effects to wear off.

  “We will still have each other.”

  The quiet simplicity of his comment brought tears to my eyes, and I blinked them away. “You make it so easy to love you.” He was good and true and more than I deserved.

  “I started to fall in love with you the moment I saw you.”

  A sweet sentiment, and his eyes radiated sincerity, but our meeting wasn’t so long ago that I could forget his shock. I started to object, but he spoke again. “I learned then not to judge by appearance, but by deed and character. I love you, Starrconner, your yellow hair, your sacrifice in coming here, the way our bodies join in pleasure, your willingness to integrate into my culture.”

  He still often called me Starrconner. When I taught him Universal Terran, I would teach him our naming structure. Or not. It was kind of charming how he blended both names as if they were one. I loved his gravelly, growly voice.

  I hugged him hard. The bulkiness of our kels prevented my arms from reaching all the way around him, but he had no trouble and enveloped me in a tight embrace. Contentment and desire entwined. Torg squeezed me then set me away and jutted his chin at the lodge. “I think one of your friends has already arrived.”

  He was right. A set of footprints led inside.

  “After I record our mating, I’ll meet you in there.”

  “Okay.” I kissed him. The frigid air had chilled his lips, but they warmed as we kissed. Torg headed toward the records hall, and I clopped through the snow toward the lodge. Who would it be? Andrea or Tessa? I couldn’t wait to see both my friends. We’d bonded aboard the SS Australia, and though I’d committed myself to Torg, they represented my link to Terra. They had become family.

  I flung back the flap and rushed inside. Hands on hips, a woman faced a bright, glowing computer screen set up in the corner. I recognized the braids. “Andrea!”

  She spun around. “Starr!” Her face broke into a huge smile, and we ran toward each other. We embraced in a clinging bear hug as if we’d been friends forever and had been separated for far longer than two weeks.