Deep Indigo (2 page)

This bothered Navos not at all, for he looked with contempt at beings who chose to live in constant tempests. He was extremely fortunate, as only a half-Indigon, to wield such strong telepathy. But it came with a price. He could not afford to wallow in human emotion. That way led to misuse of power. He must remain above petty drama, using his gifts judiciously.

Certainly he had sexual urges—strong ones. He was a male in his prime and in the peak of physical condition. He assuaged his needs with paid sex companions. There was a certain resort on Serpentia that specialized in beautiful, skilled females of all species. And if he occasionally felt these encounters lacked something, that was no one’s business but his own.

Although the crew of the
Orion
contained many attractive women, including the lovely, lethal Serpentian guards, most of whom would leap at the chance to try the
Orion
’s second-in-command as a sex partner, he did not consort with the crew. He was an officer of the ship. If anything were to happen to Captain Craig, he would be the acting captain. With power came responsibility.

A similar bias kept him from consorting with passengers. He shuddered at the thought of pouting looks in the mess hall or passageways.

An Indigon lady would of course be different, with the superb control of their race. Although this female was unique in her effervescence. He viewed the warm, happy tangle of her aura as an inner portrait, unique as a retinal scan. He was certain he didn’t know her, but he wanted to, at least for the space of this voyage. He’d have to be careful, of course, to remain detached. That should be no problem—his mental discipline was superb.

This lady knew him, or at least knew of him. Perhaps they had met at a gathering on Indigon, or she might have been a passenger on one of the first three voyages of the
Orion
. Bemused, he shook his head. She was as eager to meet him as a fan meeting Chaz Jaguari, the galactic singing star.

She was outside his door now. Rising, he walked around his desk. He was expecting an intern from the Indigon University to arrive shortly, but the young man could wait for a bit while his commander met this fascinating woman.

He heard a soft tap on the door.

“Enter,” he invited.

She was much younger than he’d expected. This thought flitted across Navos’s mind. But his foremost reaction was the solid jolt when their eyes met. Her gaze hit him square in the chest, rocked him back on his heels and sent heat flooding through him, arrowing straight down into his loins.

Deep, deep blue, her eyes held a glow of anticipation that was echoed in the mauve flush high on her cheeks. Her piquant, oval face was framed by dark hair cut in a short, feathery cap that bared her delicate ears and emphasized her lithe slenderness. She was lovely.

The flush on her cheeks deepened. As if Navos needed another sign—he was awash in the warm flood of her emotions. Now that they were face-to-face, a new current surged to the forefront. A sexual glow of attraction joined the other emotions in her aura.

Male triumph swelled in him. Here was an antidote to the ennui plaguing him lately. He would allow himself to enjoy her. She was a passenger on his ship, but she was unique. This was going to be a very interesting voyage.

“You are Commander Navos?” she asked in a husky voice that shivered over his skin like a caress.

“I am.”

A smile quivered at the corners of her soft lips, the hue of Pangaean roses. Her eyes widened.

“Oh, sir. It is such an honor.”

Without taking his eyes from hers, he stepped closer. She gazed up at him uncertainly, her soft lips parted, small breasts rising and falling with her quick breaths. Her scent was as delicate as she.

“We need no such formality,” he said. “I’m very pleased that you’re here.”

Her eyes widened. “You are?”

“Of course. It’s not often that I’m visited by a lady of my own race, especially one with such…power.”

She fairly glowed. “Oh, Commander. You don’t know how much that means to me. I—I have wished to meet you for so long.”

“And now you have.” He allowed some of his own arousal and anticipation to flow outward.

Her response was immediate. Shock was followed swiftly by a feminine flowering both physical and psychic.

Navos lifted his hands to her slender shoulders and pulled her closer.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. “We’ll go slowly.”

Savoring the anticipation, he bent his head to her. She smelled of fresh, warm woman and some faint flowery perfume, an intoxicating blend. Her breath hitched as she tipped her head back, her lips parting moistly. Her lashes fluttered and sank in feminine surrender.

He was about to take her soft mouth with his own and pull her hard against him, hell, perhaps even take her right here on his desk, so powerful was the need swirling between them. Soon the sensual whirlpool would sweep them both down into its depths.

Uncertainty speared like a shard of ice through her arousal. He froze, a hairsbreadth from kissing her, then slowly forced himself to straighten.

“Who are you?”

As he waited for her answer, the heat that roared within him congealed into cold, hard anger. For along with the uncertainty in the indigo depths of her eyes, he sensed trepidation, chagrin.

“I—I’m Nelah Cobalt,” she faltered. “Your—your new intern…sir.”

Nelah shivered—if a cryogenic blast had roared silently through the small office, it could have been no more effective than her admission. The current of powerful, leashed sexual heat that had flowed between them only a moment before was gone, shattered like ice.

If only the elegant flooring would open up and swallow her whole. Nelah had never been so embarrassed, or so angry with herself. She’d practically thrown herself at him. She might as well have—she realized too late she’d placed no guard on her emotions. She must have been sending like a holo-vid unit as she approached.

She’d entered his office brimming with such excitement and joy she half expected to float up off the floor like a moon-weed pod. Finally she would meet her hero, the man whom she’d admired and studied for years. And not just meet him; she was to be his apprentice. Under his tutelage, she would hone her skills as an Indigon intuitive and empath in the practical world.

Commander Daron Navos, Honored Fellow of the Indigon University. One of the most successful graduates ever, renowned throughout the galaxy for his daring rescue of an entire space port from a Mauritanian terrorist. A legend to students who followed him through the university.

That he now led a life of adventure in deep space, second-in-command of the LodeStar Corporation’s flagship, the
Orion
, only added to his cachet.

When he spoke, the thrill had intensified. The deep, cool voice was just as she remembered from his holo-vid lectures and the galactic news broadcasts she’d gleaned from the archives. But hearing it in person was electrifying. This would be the best lunar month of her life.

Daron Navos wasn’t precisely handsome, but his deep blue eyes were utterly compelling under arching black brows and a high forehead capped with ruthlessly short black hair. He had a thin, elegantly curved mouth and a hawk nose. He carried himself like a seer, or ruler, the silver flight suit elegant on his tall, lean frame.

Now she gazed at him helplessly, caught by the deep, burning cold of his gaze. Commander Navos was even more fascinating in person than she could have dreamed, and a great deal more formidable.

And if she was angry with herself, it didn’t take an Indigon empath to know he was furious. Slashes of color burned on his high cheekbones.

If only she’d spoken as she stepped into his office. “Intern Cobalt, reporting for duty,” she should have said. Then perhaps her hero, the man she’d waited so long to meet, wouldn’t be gazing at her as if she were some cheap sex companion who had just propositioned him.

“Your name is Nelah?” he echoed sharply. “Your application said Nelo. A male name.”

Nelah shook her head. “A—a mistake,” she managed.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Who sent you here?”

“The university, sir. I applied for an internship and—”

“Who. Sent. You?”

She swallowed against the sick feeling that rose inside her. Oh, no. He would believe it was nepotism, that she did not deserve the internship. If he only knew that she was more astonished than anyone by the help she’d received to snag this coveted post.

“My stepfather,” she admitted past the lump in her throat. “Professor Cyan.”

His anger shot out at her, forcing her back a step. She reeled, grabbing the nearby chair for support. He leashed his emotion instantly, but his mouth twisted in a sneer.

“Cyan! I should’ve known. This is just the kind of scheme he would formulate. You will catch the next shuttle back to Indigon. You won’t be staying on board the
Orion
.”

Aghast, Nelah held onto the back of the chair, her fingers biting into the soft skrog leather. The memory of her stepfather’s sly smile flashed through her mind. She’d been suspicious of his fulsome offer to get her this coveted internship, but so excited that she’d accepted without further question.

This was why he’d been so eager to help, she realized, the sickness intensifying. Because he knew Commander Navos wouldn’t want a female, or a relative of his. Loftan Cyan must have alienated Navos the way he had so many others in the university. But she’d come too far to give up now.

“Please, sir,” she managed. “I—I’m qualified, I assure you.”

He raised one arching black brow and looked her up and down.

“Qualified for a sexual liaison?” he asked silkily. “Yes, indeed. And more than ready, I perceive. But not, I think, qualified to be my intern.”

That shaft sank deep. She lifted her chin proudly.

“With all due respect, Commander, I am qualified to be your intern. I graduated second in my class, with high honors in intuition and—”

He slashed the air impatiently with one hand. “I’m sure you did. The daughter of a professor is not to be given low marks, even at the university. What you need to understand, Miss Cyan, is that I don’t care. I don’t have to take whomever the university sends me and I will not take you.”

She absorbed this blow, dimly surprised that she was still standing.

“It’s not Cyan,” she mumbled. “My name is Cobalt.”

He looked at her strangely.

“He’s my stepfather.”

He bowed with mocking irony and fury flooded her. She shook with the effort of maintaining her self-control, her hands clenching into fists at her side. Her human emotions took hold just when she least wished to experience them. He was obviously having no such struggle—Indigon to his cool, logical, intellectual core.

“It was…an honor to meet you, Commander,” she said through stiff lips. “I apologize for any inconvenience I’ve caused you.”

Nelah would have liked him to look astonished, even admiring, at her courage. But he merely watched coldly as she turned and hurried out.

In her stateroom, she stood for a moment, gazing blankly. Then she collapsed onto the narrow bed. She closed her eyes, but through the hot tears that seeped under her lashes she could still see the wreckage of her dreams.

Chapter Three

Nelah didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when she woke with a great gasp, jerking upright in the bed. The lights came on at her movement and she gazed fearfully around the small stateroom. All was as it should be, the room empty, save for her luggage sitting neatly in the open storage compartment.

But something was terribly wrong. A second cry of torment ripped through her mind like jagged claws. Someone on the ship was in agony, filled with such fear and rage that she knew something was going to happen. Something horrible. And several hundred beings were sealed up with him or her in a ship hurtling through space.

She was on her feet and out in the passageway almost before she could think. There was only one man on board the
Orion
who could help—Commander Navos.

Two lithe, lean figures in distinctive golden-yellow flight suits stood by the elevator—ships guards. They turned, hands on the weapons at their belts as Nelah ran toward them.

“Please,” Nelah cried. “Help me! I must find Commander Navos.”

She staggered, one hand to her head as the voice screamed, protesting some terrible fate.

The guards watched her suspiciously. Of course—they couldn’t hear the voice.

“What is it?” demanded the female, a slender blonde. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m Indigon,” Nelah managed, leaning against the wall. “I’m an empath/intuit. Someone on this ship is going mad.”

The two guards exchanged a swift look.

“Get Navos,” the woman said. She slid her arm under Nelah’s, holding her up.

“Commander Navos,” said the male guard sharply into his com-link. “Commander Navos—we need you in the medical unit. Immediately, sir.”

He swung Nelah up into his arms and carried her into the waiting elevator. The female guard followed.

“I’m not—ill,” Nelah said faintly. “I just need…Navos.” But she shuddered, a moan forcing its way from her throat as the screams ripped through her again. Her head fell back on the guard’s shoulder, her strength sapped.

The elevator opened. They emerged into a bright white space full of beings, all talking over her as she was laid down and whisked into a smaller space.

She twisted on the gurney, her eyes closing as another cry tore at her. When she opened them, she thought she was hallucinating, for three eyes on stalks regarded her gravely. She blinked and a round, wrinkled face moved into sight, attached to the eyes.

“I’m Doctor Tentaclar. Now, young Indigon, tell us what is happening with you,” he said. His voice cracked with age, but it was full of compassion.

“Someone is—in agony,” she managed. “I—can feel him—in my mind. It—hurts.”

“Ah.” A warm hand patted her shoulder. Then gentle fingers touched her head, pausing as she flinched. “What is it? You are in physical pain?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, “Just a sore spot where I had stitches. I fell several days ago, and cut myself.”