Laura Jo Phillips (67 page)

The burning sensation eased at once, as did the overwhelming urge to pound her body onto the cocks penetrating her.  She waited, uncertain what to expect next.  Without thinking about it, she took a deep breath, even though Clark’s cock was still buried deep in her throat.  The mating fangs slipped from her flesh, and all three men began fucking her in a deep, even rhythm.  Clark held her head as he thrust deeply into her mouth, while Jackson thrust hard up into her hot, gushing pussy in counterpoint to Rob’s deep, hard thrusts in her ass.  She was held motionless in between them, so she just relaxed and allowed herself to feel. 

She had never imagined being filled in this way, could never have imagined how much trust and love she felt, both within herself, and from each of her men.  She felt something inside of her begin to grow and change, preparing itself, though she didn’t know for what.  The thrusts got harder, faster, deeper and she felt the rise of tension in all of them as an orgasm built and built until finally, it crashed over her, Jackson, Rob and Clark all at the same instant.

She felt their seed pump into her, felt it shooting through each passage toward her womb.  She spared a moment to wonder at that.  How was such a thing possible?  It made no sense.  Her wonder passed, her questions forgotten as she focused on what was happening next.  Somehow, she watched as their seed met and blended together deep within her where a small, turquoise light shone.  The light sent out a call, a vibration that sped back through all of her passages and through the cocks still buried deep within her. In response, she felt something else shoot from them, not seed this time, but something warm, gentle and bright, something that held the very essence of each of them.

Hope felt Jackson, Clark and Rob as their essence raced through her body, infusing her very blood and tissue in a way that made them one with her physical being.  She felt them, knew she would always feel them.  They were now a permanent part of her in the same way her blood was a part of her, and her heart, and her skin.  Her soul leapt with joy at the knowledge that she would never be alone again. 

The remaining essence from each of her men flowed toward the turquoise light that burned so brightly within her.  As their essence met her light and they all blended together, Hope knew that this was the moment.  This was when their souls would become linked together forever, never to be undone. 

Suddenly another light, this one silver tinged with gold and very small, rose up before the turquoise light.  For a long moment, they all stilled as they watched and waited to see what would happen.

Very slowly the turquoise light spread out, sending fingers of itself toward the new, silver light, as though in invitation.  The silver light moved closer and the turquoise light slowly encircled it, pulling it in to join with the four of them.  At the moment they all blended together, Hope felt her entire body, mind and soul blaze in a burst of turquoise light shot with sparks of silver and gold.  Her voice rose with Jackson’s, Clark’s and Rob’s as they shouted they exploded together in a muscle wrenching orgasm that brought tears of joy to their eyes. 

Chapter
64

Mark Baza stepped off the air transport and hurried toward the ground-car waiting for him on the tarmac.  He waited impatiently for the chauffeur to open the door before sliding into the back seat.  He immediately closed the privacy window between the back seat and the front, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Ever since the night those cursed offspring of Ellicia Daniels had been transferred from Phoenix II to Arlington in the middle of the night, he had lived in constant fear, worry and stress.  He had barely had the time, and the forethought, to leave a few things behind before racing off with the Director for the air transport. 

Assistant to the Director was a demanding job, and he had no opportunity to take off for a day without raising questions he could not answer.  Finally, the Director had gone to Greece to perform the wedding ceremony between that trouble maker Hope Strigida and the interfering Jasani brutes, giving him the opportunity he’d been waiting so anxiously for.  He had gone to the base, retrieved his belongings, and the small object he’d left hidden, and immediately returned to Arlington. 

There had been moments over the past weeks when Mark had seriously thought he was going to lose his mind.  He had recorded countless messages to his Ruling Queen, all of which he had deleted before sending.  He had frantically searched for a way to dispose of Hope Strigida in a way that would not implicate him or break his cover, and had failed to find one.  He was used to having the Brethren to turn to for such things, but they were gone now, which left him on his own.  He would have gladly disposed of the annoyance himself, but there was no way to do it without giving himself away.

The ground-car pulled up outside of his building and Mark let himself out rather than wait for the chauffeur.  He hurried to the elevator, waiting impatiently for the doors to open on his floor.  A few moments later he locked his apartment door behind himself at last, and activated the anti-surveillance system. 

He removed his jacket and dropped it on the floor as he headed for the bedroom.  He closed and locked that door as well, then tore his shirt off, not even noticing the buttons popping everywhere.  He reached into his pocket for the tiny recording device he had retrieved from Phoenix II, opened the doors of his
makina
and grasped it with his two front legs. 

Za-Marliq played the recording, his body motionless as he listened to Hope Strigida reveal the most hidden, closely guarded secret of the Xanti.  The location of their home world, Xantara.

When the message ended, he leapt out of his
makina
and raced up the walls and across the ceiling of his bedroom, back and forth and around and around, crazed with fury at the injustice of all.  Because of some stupid, insignificant, squishy human female, he, Za-Marliq, the most successful spy of Xaqana-Ti’s entire brood, would surely be thrown to a batch of hungry younglings for delivering this, the most devastating news of the Xanti’s modern history.

He wanted to bite someone.  He wanted to sting someone.  He wanted to tear Hope Strigida into tiny little pieces. 

Only when Za-Marliq had exhausted himself did he begin to calm enough to think once more.  All of a sudden it occurred to him that, since he was the only one who had this news, and nobody knew he had it, there really was no reason to pass it along.  He froze for a long moment as he considered that.

It wasn’t as though it would make much difference, he thought.  If Xantara was found, then it was found.  Revealing the news would not change it.  Why not let someone else discover this news and reveal it?  Why bring the wrath and fury of not just Xaqana-Ti, but all of the Xanti down upon his head?  After all, it was not as though the technologically inferior races of the Thousand Worlds could project military forces 160,000 light years to another galaxy.  Only the superior Xanti were capable of such a feat.

Suddenly, Za-Marliq was very glad that he had not summoned the courage to inform Xaqana-Ti of Hope Strigida’s possible ability to locate Xantara since he had first learned of it.  Yes, he thought, that was very smart of him.

He climbed down from the ceiling and marched resolutely to his
makina
.  He scrambled up, crawled inside, and picked up the retrieval device that he had worried and stressed about for so long.  He stared at it for a moment, considering his decision one last time.  Then he deliberately crushed the device between two leg tips.  Only when there was nothing left of the device but black powder did he begin to relax.  He closed the doors of his
makina
, put on a clean shirt and buttoned it up.  He left the bedroom, picked his jacket up from the floor and slipped his arms into it, shrugging it neatly into place. 

He had a sudden craving for a big, juicy steak and his favorite restaurant was only a couple of blocks away.  As he left his apartment, he debated which wine he should have with his meal.  Sometimes, it was difficult to make up one’s mind about things.

Chapter
65

Hope slipped her feet into her shoes, picked up her jacket and checked her appearance in the mirror one last time.  She was startled, always, by the small silver and gold mark high on her forehead.  From a distance it appeared to be a jewel, but up close it was clearly an image of an Owlfen with its wings spread wide in flight.  It was really very beautiful, though, in her opinion, not as beautiful as the
lau-lotu
on her arms and shoulders.  She loved looking in the mirror and seeing the eyes of her men gazing back at her.

These markings were not the same as the tattoo on her wrist.  The tattoo was skin deep, and she loved it for what it meant to her.  But the images of her men’s bearencas, Rob on her right arm, Clark on her left and Jackson across her shoulders, were more than skin deep.  Those markings were formed from the essence of the men themselves, and were a part of her very soul.  Just as her turquoise eyed bearenca now graced their flesh, and their soul.

“You about ready
Niha
?” Jackson asked from the doorway. 

She turned to smile at him, her eyes going to the tiny Owlfen on his forehead that matched the one on hers.  They all had that mark now, including the babies.  It meant that they were all beneath the wings of the Sentinel of the Owlfen, which, Hope admitted, was a bit over her head.  So long as the boys were alive and healthy, she didn’t care what marks they had to wear.

“Yes, I’m ready,” she said as she hurried toward him.  She paused to take one last look around the hotel room to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, then smiled at Jackson.  “Let’s go.”

Jackson took her arm and guided her out of the room.  He was excited to be going home to Jasan at last, though there were people on Earth that he would miss.  The past couple of weeks had been very busy, closing up Hope’s apartment, helping the Director to close up Ellicia’s apartment, and assisting the Directorate scientists with a design for a system that would reveal any Blind Sights on the planet, or in space.  At last everything was done and they were ready to leave.

Jackson and Hope took the elevator down to the main floor of the spaceport where Clark and Rob were waiting for them, each holding a baby.  The Director stood with them, holding Harlan in his arms as easily as Clark and Rob held Mattlan and Weldan. 

“I’m going to miss all of you,” the Director said as he carefully handed a sleeping Harlan to Jackson. 

“Don’t forget that you are invited to visit any time you want, for as long as you want,” Hope said. 

“As you are their Godfather, we expect to see you at least once a year,” Jackson added firmly. 

The Director smiled.  “I won’t forget, and I won’t fail in my duties to my Godsons, either.”  He turned to Hope and started to bow, but Hope put a stop to that by wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. 

“You take care of yourself,” she said.  “You have family now, and we care about you.”

“Thank you,” the Director replied.  “Oh, one last thing.”  He turned and picked up a cardboard carton that was sitting on the floor behind him and handed it to Hope.

“This box was delivered to my office by special courier,” he said.  “From Harlan.”

Hope stilled.  Was this a joke? she wondered.  One look at the Director’s face and she knew that it wasn’t.  “How?” she asked.

“That’s what I wanted to know,” he replied.  “It took me a while to figure out but, evidently, Harlan placed this box in secure storage with specific instructions.  If he did not come in to renew his contract once every six months, then this box was to be delivered to me.  He even paid them the delivery costs.”

“Simple,” Hope said. 

“And clever,” the Director agreed.  “The note on the box is addressed to you, Hope.  There was a letter addressed to me as well, explaining how to find you in the event you had not yet come forward, and instructing me to deliver the box to you.”

Hope took the proffered box slowly, curious as to what could possibly be in it.  It wasn’t very big, or heavy, but it was sturdy.  Whatever it was, she would wait to open it privately.  Not in a busy spaceport.

“We must go now,” Clark said, glancing at his watch.

“Thank you, Director,” Hope said, giving him another quick one-armed hug. 

The Director said last goodbyes to the babies, and to Jackson, Clark and Rob, and watched them as they hurried away to catch their shuttle.  He thought that they made a beautiful family, and he knew that they were the right people to raise Ellicia’s and Harlan’s sons.  He would miss them, but he would visit them as often as he could. 

As he turned to walk away, he wondered if he had made a mistake in giving that box to Hope.  He didn’t think he had.  Every item in the box had been carefully examined, of course, but aside from the antiquity of a few things, there didn’t seem to be anything significant about them.  They were probably exactly what they appeared.  Heirlooms handed down through their family.  That’s what his scientists had concluded. 

He paused and turned to look back, but the Bearens were nowhere to be seen now.  He should not have given that box to Hope.  He didn’t know why, but his gut was telling him it had been a mistake.  He was getting soft in his old age, he thought.  Well, no matter.  They wouldn’t mind if he visited them a bit sooner than they expected.  The Director smiled to himself, turned around and left the spaceport, whistling softly as he walked.