Chapter 10 Laura
TEN
LAURA
One second he's giving me moon-glazed eyes filled with liquid happiness, the next he reels to one side, clutching his head.
I dart to catch him but really, what can five foot two me do to stop a giant pillar like him from falling? We both crash to the ground, a blow to my elbow vibrating all the way up my arm. At least his skull lands on my legs rather than the unforgiving concrete floor.
I clutch his shoulders to stop him from trying to get up. “Did you faint? Stay down for a moment, catch your breath.”
“Nevare,” he gasps. “He's—argh!”
All I can do is clasp him tight, his muscles hardening as he writhes. What do I do?
My anxiety-relief tools spring to mind. “Breathe, Dom. Take deep breaths for me.”
His purple eyes are tortured, agony creasing his face. But he gulps in a breath, then another, and another.
I put a hand on his chest to slow his rapid gasps so he's not hyperventilating and chant, “Shh. I've got you, Dom.”
He takes a few deep gulps before he struggles upright. “I have to go to Nevare.”
“Of course.” Something terrible must have happened to the gray-eyed alien. Because it’s an emergency, I leave with Dom rather than wait and check if Ellen or Arabella could be looking from the kitchen first. Seeing us both emerge from the shed will arouse suspicion, but this is urgent.
“Nevare!” Dom bellows, casting about Ellen’s farmyard searching for his… well, his identical genetic match, so twin would be appropriate.
The lean-to is empty, sun-drenched with oddly hot March light, the yard clear.
“Here.” Golden-eyed Arik groans from the barn, staggering out, and Dom immediately rushes to him, checking him over for injury. Dom’s all intense, muscles bunched, movements sharp, but he says nothing, maybe communicating telepathecally.
Suddenly his tension drops and his arms sag. “You’re both fine,” he exhales.
“No we’re not!” Nevare’s gray eyes flash silver as he stalks out of the barn. “Shade’s gone, Dom. Where are they?”
The pitch of his voice is nearly a wail, but mentally it must be ten times worse, since both Dom and Arik wince.
Holding his head, Dom says, “I’ll find them, don’t worry. Please stop hammering at us.”
But Nevare doesn’t seem to hear, pacing up and down as if undecided where to search next. Whatever he’s lost, he’s completely disoriented about it.
Dom mentioned Parthiastock needing orders, so I say, “Nevare, sit down and stop bashing them.”
His silver gaze snaps to mine, and he immediately gets to his knees on the gravel. Not a Dom drop where I fear for his kneecaps, more slow and controlled. “Yes, female.”
“You don’t have to kneel to me.” Fuck, this is awkward. “I meant take a seat in the lean to, catch a few deep breaths.”
“And once you calm down, you’ll be able to sense them,” Dom chips in.
He takes Nevare under his arm, his brother’s gray eyes distant and his body lax as he leans on Dom.
It's as if he’s distracted listening to something whilst Dom lifts him, because Nevare doesn’t seem to notice.
Dom guides him across the gravel to the lean-to, Nevare's feet dragging.
I check if any of the scattered stones came close to my BMW, casting my eye across the bodywork.
That’s when I see it. A fuck-off huge great big spider, perched on my wing mirror and admiring itself in the reflection of the driver's window. The hand-sized bulbous thing has lots of layers, like a mound of scales or a succulent plant, and with about twenty long thin emerald legs waving above it.
“Dom, what are you searching for?” I'm amazed my voice comes out as even as it does.
He winces as he lays Nevare down, not looking me in the eye. “Our pet. A plant we found offworld.”
“And does it have dark green spindly leaves on one side, light purple on the other?”
His head jerks up sharply. “Yes. Where is it?”
I point at my car. “It better not scratch my paintwork.”
Dom scrambles over, then shoots me a grateful look. “Thank you, Law-rah.” He holds out his hand for the spider, and it crawls over to him.
Frack, I nearly jump out of my skin. “What is it?”
“A Sanitatum. They are something between an animal and a plant, a species we found as part of Ilia's crew while looking for new plantlife across the galaxy. They’re not from Oloria originally, but we breed them because they respond to telepathic energies like Nevare’s, so Oloria uses them to gauge the strength of a telepathic clone. ”
It waves its thin arms, like the pencil-thick tendrils around Dom’s cock. Those things slid around like slow snakes, leaking white fluid in ropes of lubricant around his thick, ridged cock, all studded and spined.
To be honest, thinking of his ‘sexual organs,’ as he called them, fills me with a mixture of…
well, Christmas has come early, because Planet of the Pirate Prince is one of my favorite book series.
Especially Sacrificed to the Tentacle Terror.
Above all I have a quivery feeling, because this is real.
Dom straightens up with the plant in his hand. It's animated, stems and leaves quivering like it's happy to see him. A quick glance at Nevare shows he's relaxed, just relieved to find his pet.
“Can I take a closer look?” I ask Dom.
He holds it out to me with no hesitation, but I can't quite bring myself to touch it. The waving stalks slow, then still.
“Don't be afraid,” Dom says quietly. Is he speaking to me, or the plant?
“I'm not scared.” Okay, maybe a little.
His brow creases, but he doesn't argue with me. “Shade won't hurt you, Law-rah. It responds to powerful mental energies and emotions, feeding off them harmlessly. Here.”
He strokes one hand down the plant’s leaves, and it shivers with a rattle.
“Now you try,” he says.
I'm really not sure about this, but Dom hasn't steered me wrong yet. Hovering the tip of my finger over, I tell myself to just get on with it.
“I promise you won't be hurt.” His amethyst eyes burn with intensity, holding mine. “I won't let that happen.”
“O…okay.” Warmth chases around my body like the sun has come out from behind a cloud.
I stroke the plant-spider thing’s long appendage, and it shivers a little.
“Good,” Dom encourages me, and I bite my lip at the sudden pulse of heat in my core from his praise. Clamping my thighs together, I focus on stroking the plant, not the secret kink he unknowingly touched off in me.
He tips it into my palm, his big hand warm where he brushes mine. The plant waves, and I have an urge to wave back as it wraps itself around my index finger. It's moving slowly, like it knows I'm wary, the fibers warmer than I expected in vegetation.
“Dom, Arik, Nevare.” Ilia comes crunching up the yard. “Ellen wants you to prepare for a part-tee… what is that Sanitatum doing here?”
Dom flinches, pulling his hands to his sides and staring above my head. “Sorry, Ilia, I know it's not on the manifest list. We brought it.” His face never wavers as he says, “I'll submit to any punishment. It's my fault, and mine alone.”
Ilia lets out a low breath, giving the creature in my hands a long-suffering look.
I ask, “Is this a problem? Will it invade the countryside?” Invasive species are no joke, but I do like this little succulent-spider plant hybrid.
“It won't spread, it cannot reproduce without another,” Ilia explains. “Unless you've brought more?”
Dom’s face remains stoic, void of betraying any of his inner thoughts.
Funny how I had him expressive and panting just ten minutes ago, and now he acts utterly emotionless with his superior.
“This is the sole sample. I only–” He stops himself, catching his breath and screwing his hands into fists.
He’s pushing his nails into his palms, grounding himself on the pain.
“I know we’re not supposed to have it. If you order me to destroy it, I will. ”
I put my hand protectively over the plant’s, uh, ‘head.’ “If it's not a threat to life here, and if it doesn't eat anything except vibes, then I don’t see any problem,” I say.
“Correct, female.” Ilia’s lowered brows twitch. “If you are happy, it can stay.”
Dom’s jaw loosens with a click, fists relaxing.
Ilia folds his arms. “Now, have you got anything else hidden back there?”
“No, Ilia,” Dom rattles off.
I swear the edges of a smile tug at Ilia’s severe face. “Any more secrets?”
The back of my neck goes cold, but Dom doesn’t even falter. “No, Ilia.”
He just lied to his superior for me.
“Good.” Ilia turns to face me. “Oh-Law-rah, my mate El-len wishes to arrange a social event for the humans and the Olorian clones. All of you, gather round,” he addresses the others.
Arik gets up from the lean to, bringing a dreamy-looking Nevare with him to stand next to Dom by my car. The latter smiles softly at the plant in my hands, but when I offer it to him, he shakes his head. “Shade is content where they are,” he explains.
“Shade?” The spider-plant waves its tendrils. It knows its name. Right.
The pilot slinks behind the triplets, coming to stand beside Dom, but he doesn’t look happy about it. His face is covered with a beard now, and I’m sure he got more muscled since they crash landed. Manual work seems to agree with him.
I keep hold of the moving plant as Ilia hands out orders.
“El-len is arranging a pete-za part-tay, and we will watch documentaries projected from Gara’s wand inside a tent.
It must be the most perfect event for her,” he says sternly.
“Dom, Arik and Nevare are in charge of erecting the tent. Arture, you will assist Gara with the projection technology.”
The triplets thump their fists to their chests, and Arture gives him a neat salute.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, trying to pass Shade back to Dom.