Part 19 (1/2)

A flash of lightning sizzled along the treetops overhead, shocking her into following Blackie, who had disappeared inside the object through a three-foot rip in the hull. Perhaps being in a metal structure wasn't such a great idea with lightning bolts forking all around, but it didn't look as if they had much of a choice.

But just before she entered, something red hidden beneath some nearby foliage caught her attention. Reaching out, she ripped away a piece of wet moss with her bound hands and uncovered a four-foot-sized piece of curved silver...red...blue...stripes.

Oh great!

Grabbing more of the wet moss, she ripped off another good-sized piece and stared at the markings.

f.u.c.k!

A US flag emblazoned the metal of the s.h.i.+p. Stars and stripes.

Blackie suddenly reappeared. He glanced at the flag, then grabbed her wrist, touching her bracelet. ”It is the same sign as this. You must come from here.”

Here? Here? Was she an astronaut?

But why did this s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p look like it had been here for many, many years? How long had she been walking around in the jungle? Years?

Oh she was so going to freak out. She couldn't stop herself from trembling. Too many questions suddenly raced through her brain and her world tilted. Everything went black.

Confusion and unease raged through Blackie as he wiped a wet cloth over Kinley's forehead. She remained asleep.

He'd caught her as she'd crumpled right in front of him. What had happened? Had he hurt her in some way during their travels? Had the lightning hit her and he hadn't seen it?

When he'd carried her into the wreck, he'd shouted her name over and over, wanting her to awaken. She'd stirred in his arms and relief poured through him. Yet she remained asleep. He'd placed her upon the one bed and untied her hands, grimacing at the rope burns around her wrists. Capturing water in a bucket in the sudden downpour, he'd cooled her warm body. But she had no fever. And he did not know what to do except to let her sleep.

While she slept, he prepared food for himself.

He was so hungry. Famished. He was entering the end of Phase Two of the Pa.s.sion Poison. Blackie s.h.i.+vered as he thought of Phase Three. Of his darkest fantasies. Of what he wished to do with Kinley...s.e.xually.

Despite the overwhelming urges to touch her, to have s.e.x with her, he dared not. He needed her to awaken. Needed to find out what was wrong with her. There had been a drastic change in her when he'd brought her to the statue of the G.o.ddess of Freedom. The distant look in her pretty eyes. It was as if she were not there. As if he'd lost her for a little while. But then she had come back. Now he had lost her again to this mysterious sleep.

Instincts told him to lift her into his arms and leave this place. That it was not good for her here, but the storms were upon them and he had no choice but to stay in this building-which was warmer than it would have been inside the statue of the G.o.ddess of Freedom.

He doubted anyone knew of this place. He had come upon it shortly after the Slave Uprising. In his newfound freedom, after escaping life with the dominating females, he hadn't been able to stay in Death Valley for too long at a time without becoming restless. So he took many exploration trips, especially into the Outer Limits, the forbidden areas.

He'd enjoyed exploring the G.o.ddess of Freedom as well as this metallic building. Now, as he gazed upon Kinley's motionless body, he wished he had never brought her here.

He dribbled some water upon her dry mouth, willing her to part her lips and drink. Willing her to awaken. The liquid merely ran down the side of her mouth.

She slept.

Panic began to grow inside of him again. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he headed outside into the stormy downpour. Rain beat onto his flesh. Thunder cracked in his ears and silver streaks of lightning blazed forks across the darkening skies, but he ignored the danger.

He screamed his frustrations into the rain and pounded his fists onto the hard metal until his knuckles bled and his perspiration mixed with hot blood and cool rain.

This was his fault. He'd been too rough with her. She was, after all, a female. Not as strong as males, but curvy and fragile and beautiful.

His gut clenched at the thought of her not awakening. What if she did not? A long time ago he had hit a male on the head during a gladiator fight. The male had crumpled. Had never awoken. Days later, he had stopped breathing and died.

Anger raged through Blackie.

He could not let the same fate happen to this female. His female. No, he could not let it happen.

Blinking aside the torrents of raindrops that threatened to drown him, he gazed around the overgrown area and tried to think of something to do to bring her out of her unconscious state. But nothing came to mind. Just despair.

Raw, painful despair.

Blackie's voice startled Kinley from the comfortable, snug coc.o.o.n she'd been languis.h.i.+ng in.

She hadn't been thinking of anything...just existing, just being. Not worrying about who she was, where she was, or why she was even here.

Best of all, she didn't have any pain. No headache, no memory flashes, no visions. Nothing but blessed peace.

It had been so wonderful for a while. Suddenly, though, she'd been thrust out of the warm world her mind had created. Thrust into noise, into cold, into discomfort. She didn't know how long she fought to stay inside the darkness, but she did fight.

Someone was pulling away the layers of comfort. One by one. And with each layer that was stripped away, she came closer and closer to the surface.

Every once in a while, things tickled areas of her body. Then p.r.i.c.kles of pain here and there. Touches of cold, touches of warmth. And scents of the earth. Of dew, worms, dampness, ozone. Then there was slas.h.i.+ng rain and crackling thunder. A storm?

A man's voice. Strong, powerful, sensual. Relief poured through her as she heard Blackie. Low, soothing, tender.

Oh G.o.d, so tender and so desperate it ripped apart her heart and she let him in.

”Can you not open your eyes for me, my G.o.ddess?” he whispered, his soft voice drowning out the background of thunder and pounding rain. Yet she didn't feel the rain. Just misty droplets and something else brus.h.i.+ng erotically against the inside of her thighs.

A feather? Was that intimate touch a feather?

Warm strokes tickled slowly up the inside of one arm, across her neck and down the inside of her other arm. Were they his hot fingertips?

Curiosity grabbed hold and she opened her eyes. Blackie hovered over her, a worried expression marring his tightly drawn face. A wave of lightheadedness washed over her as she moved her head to check the source of tickling. Indeed he was using a feather and his fingertips.

”What...are you doing?”

He jerked at her voice. Looked startled as he gazed upon her. ”You awaken, thank the G.o.ddess of Freedom!”

Relief seemed to pour through him and the tightness shadowing his face shattered, revealing a brightness in his gaze.

Huh. The man seemed genuinely relieved she was okay. At least she thought she was okay. Even her headache was gone.

”What happened?” she asked and looked around the room. Correct that-the interior of the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p.

To her surprise, it was relatively light due to a small smokeless torch burning just inside the entrance. The flames flickered and danced as bursts of wind swept past.

”When you fell, I thought-” He frowned.

”You thought I had died?”

He smiled, but it was a sad smile and warmth as well as concern washed through her.