Alien Soulmate (Paranormal Romance Aliens) Page 6

  "I'll be back first thing in the morning," she promised, but she'd felt his eyes on her all the way out the door.

  Chapter 6: Building Bonds

  Carver had expected to be impatient. After all, the potential fate of his people was resting on him getting back home in time to stop Ithril from doing something stupid. More than that, he had no idea what was happening there. People could be dying. His entire clan could have been wiped out already, and he would have no idea.

  But somehow… somehow the wait was bearable.

  It was certainly understandable considering how little Vivian knew about their technology. More than two days had been spent simply going over everything and trying to figure out how it all worked, but the woman was a quick study, and Carver was truly impressed at how quickly she worked.

  Her knowledge of human tech definitely came in handy for this, and soon enough she was confident enough to be turned loose on her own to fiddle with the com device and try to get it up and running while he focused on the issue of getting fuel.

  The real problem was that here, gem stones and minerals and the like were considered precious. They were set into jewelry and sold for large amounts of money. Viv had shown him plenty of stones that would work, but neither of them had the money to buy them, and the fact that they had all been cut and polished within an inch of their normal state meant that he would need even more of them than usual.

  Vivian had explained that they didn't have anything like fuel that ran on energy from stones, so he was going to have to hope that somehow he could get in touch with his sister and get her to help.

  Viv seemed to think it was going to work.

  Her excitement was almost contagious, and he found himself smiling more in her presence than he had in the last few weeks back at home. She was lovely and intelligent, and Carver wanted to be close to her. He came up with all sorts of reasons to sit next to her, to look over her shoulder, drawn in by her light and the way she smelled softly of something sweet and warm.

  They passed the days easily, and Carver was more than grateful for her presence, sure that he would have driven himself insane with worry by now if he had been alone.

  It was about two weeks into their acquaintance when she showed up earlier than usual. He had been sleeping, but the sensors around the house alerted him to the fact that someone was outside, so he'd gotten up and gone to see what was happening.

  Vivian always eyed the murky swamp with trepidation, even though she knew it was fake and that there was solid ground right there.

  Carver smiled at her, not realizing until he saw her eyes widen and her cheeks flush that he had neglected to put on a shirt when he'd gotten out of bed.

  It was so much warmer here than he was used to, so when she wasn't around he tended not to wear shirts, and judging from the way she kept eying him and then looking away, that was probably a good idea.

  "I'm sorry," he said, as he dragged a shirt over his head. "You're earlier than I was expecting."

  "Sorry about that," she said, trying to regain her composure, clearly. "I was trying to sleep last night, and I'm pretty sure I had a breakthrough for how to get your com thing to charge, and I got excited and couldn't sleep anymore. So here I am."

  The way she was vibrating with ill-concealed excitement, and that sparked something in him. If she was confident, then he wanted to allow himself to be confident too. Confident that there might be a solution at hand that would fix everything. Or at least put him on the path to fixing everything.

  "To work, then?" Carver asked, gesturing to the table in the kitchen that she had taken over for her work. "I am sure you didn't stop to eat, so I'll get breakfast going."

  She had taken the liberty of restocking his kitchen with food one day, and while Earth food was not was he was used to, it wasn't terribly different to prepare.

  The coffee was good, at least.

  He tried not to hover as Vivian worked, watching as she muttered to herself and swapped out parts between the three different machines she had in front of her. She narrowed her eyes and swore violently for a second before smacking herself in the head and adding something else into the mix.

  Carver watched as she sat back slowly, eyes raking over the mess in front of her, and then, for the first time since she'd taken it apart, she started putting the com device back together.

  His heart thudded painfully in his chest, and he wondered if this was it. It surprised him how much faith he had in her, but the determined set of her mouth and the light in her eyes hadn't allowed him to doubt.

  "I think…" she murmured, glancing up at him. "I think I've got it."

  "How will you know for sure?"

  She held up one finger and sifted through her bag, coming up with a cord with an unfamiliar plug on it. He was already aware that the cabin ran on some strange mixture of electricity and solar power, and when she went to plug the cord in, he assumed she was tapping into the electricity.

  Nothing happened at first, but then she pushed the other end of the cord into the com device and the screen lit up.

  "You did it," he breathed, as the familiar pattern of symbols flashed across the screen.

  "I did," she breathed back, seeming to be just as startled. "You've got to take it from here, though. I don't read Sitheri."

  Carver chuckled and took the device from her hands, eyes intent as he moved his fingers over the screen. Each com device was registered to a particular individual, and it only worked for them. It was protected by a password and a retina check, and he smiled as he went through each layer of security and then checked his signal.

  It wasn't the best, but it was enough. Carefully, with shaking fingers, he punched in his sister's name and device number, heart pounding as he waited for it to connect. For one frozen second nothing happened, but then the call went through, and E'lira's face flickered into view.

  He had to sit down to keep from collapsing in relief.

  "Thank the stars," he murmured.

  "Carver?" E'lira gasped, her voice soft and somewhat tinny over the small speakers in the device. Before he could answer, she burst into tears.

  "E'lira please don't cry," Carver practically begged. He hated seeing his sister cry, especially when he wasn't there to take her hand or wrap an arm around her and tell her it was going to be okay. "It's alright."

  "I've been so worried about you. You just disappeared! Your room was trashed, and no one knew where you were. Where are you?"

  "I'm not sure you would believe me if I told you," he said, sighing. "But it is very good to see you, and I promise I'm alright."

  "Well, Ithril's telling people that you fled in your grief, so I'm sure whatever you would say would be much more believable than that."

  Carver scowled. Leave it to Ithril to come up with something that would make him look bad and himself look good. The eldest son abandoning his post while the younger stayed and took on the burden of leading the clan. It was a clever idea, and Carver wanted to hit his brother in the face for daring to come up with it.

  "I did not flee," he said, voice firm. "I would never. Not while we're still reeling from Father's death and dealing with the Des'kos. I would not have left you."

  E'lira smiled at him, and he ached to see it. It was tinged with sadness, and he could only imagine how hard it was for her. "I know that. I never believed Ithril. He's… Things are not going well here, Carver. Where are you?"

  "I'm on Earth."

  She gasped again, one hand flying to her mouth. "Earth? He sent you to Earth? Of course he did. He wanted you out of the way, clearly."

  "For what, though?" Carver asked. "What is he doing?" Knowing Ithril it was something overly ambitious to do with the Des'kos. Something that Carver should have been there to put a stop to.

  It took E'lira a few seconds to regain her composure and she sighed, looking older and more worn than Carver had ever seen her look. "He's trying to fight the Des'kos."

  "Fight them? But that's suicide." He knew it. He'd hoped t
hat somehow his brother would have used his common sense and realized that was a terrible idea, but clearly sense was not with him at the moment.

  "I know. Well, it's actually something more like homicide on Ithril's part. He's essentially sending our people to die over and over again. People have been pleading with him to stop, to think of what Father would do, but that just seems to make it worse."

  Carver felt sick. The thought of so many Sitheri wasting their lives trying to fight an enemy that was always poised to win made him want to hit something, and that was rare for him. But there was no way that this was going to work. The Sitheri weren't meant for fighting. They had weapons and guards and could defend themselves well enough, but they weren't meant for full scale attacks. It wasn't something they had ever trained for, and Ithril should have known that.

  "We need you, Carver," his sister was saying.

  He knew that. Carver had always known that it was going to fall to him to be a leader. Even when Angen had announced that his sons would lead together, he had known. Ithril had the blood of a leader in his veins, but his heart and his head did not follow the right paths. He was too hot headed, too quick to anger and lash out and now people were dying for it. Carver looked up and saw Vivian watching him with wide eyes. He wondered if she had fully comprehended just how urgently he needed to get home and how big this all was.

  "E'lira," he said. "I am going to need your help. My transporter wasn't programmed correctly, and it crashed when I got here. It is also out of fuel. I've met someone who might be able to fix it, but there's no telling how long that will take. I need you to send another ship to me. With more fuel for the return journey."

  His sister worried her lip between her teeth for a moment. "Ithril's got the ship bay on lockdown most of the time. He doesn't want anyone leaving. We're all in this together, he says. I don't know if I can…"

  "E'lira. You have to. It's the only way. By the time we work something out here, who knows what he will have done? How many will have died. I need to get back there as soon as I can."

  She hesitated for a moment more and then nodded firmly. "You're right. Of course you're right." Carver watched as she drew herself up and determination filled her eyes. "I'm still Angen's daughter, and my word will carry some weight. I'll do it."

  He flashed her a smile. "Thank you. There's one more thing, though. I'm going to need allies when I get back. I'm sure Ithril won't be happy to see me, so the more people you can gather to our cause, the better."

  "I don't think that will be hard to do. People have been whispering already about how they don't think he's right for this," E'lira said.

  "Good. Hopefully we can resolve this without…"

  He didn't need to say it. From the look in his sister's eyes, she was thinking the same thing.

  "Stars guide you, brother," she murmured. "I'll let you know when a ship is on the way."

  "And you, E'lira." He tapped his hand over his heart and disconnected the call, leaning back in his chair and letting out a long breath.

  Vivian seemed ready to burst with her curiosity, but he wasn't ready to talk about it just yet. For years, their father had kept the numbers of Sitheri who died in against the Des'kos down to a minimum. He'd had to sacrifice some things, but there was nothing more important than the lives of their people. That was how he had seen things. Land, resources, they could find more of that, but the people were what kept the Sitheri alive and continuing on, and nothing had been worth giving them up.

  But Ithril was treating the people like they were disposable, and something hot and prickly that Carver recognized as anger was bubbling up in him.

  He shut his eyes tightly and tried to control his harsh breathing, but it wasn't easy. At least not until Vivian had crossed the room and laid a hand on his.

  When he opened his eyes, she was kneeling in front of the chair, looking up at him. "Breathe, alright?" she murmured. "It'll be okay."

  "Not if my brother runs our entire clan to ruin before I get back," he murmured. "You don't… The Des'kos are savage. They stop at nothing when it comes to claiming what they want. If Ithril angers them enough then they might decide to wipe out our entire clan the way they did so many others."

  "What's been stopping them from doing that so far?"

  "My father. He made deals with them. Kept them happy and placated. It's a bit like capitulating to the enemy, yes, but we cannot win in a fight against them. There's just no way."

  "Then you need to get back," Vivian replied, and Carver noticed that she seemed sad about it.

  All he'd been thinking of was how much he needed to return and help his people, but now he was struck with the thought of how much he was going to miss her. It was strange considering how little he knew about her, but there was something between them. That much he was certain of.

  Carefully, he covered her hand with his other one and smiled. "Thank you. I'm not sure what I would have done if you hadn't come poking around here."

  She grinned brightly at him. "I'm really glad I did."

  So was he. For more reasons than just how helpful she had been.

  Chapter 7: Setbacks

  "Thrin'dak!" Ithril swore in Sitheri as he burst into the Meeting Hall. Six raiding parties, destroyed. Six. They'd been armed to the teeth and sent out under the cover of darkness. Now all of them were dead except for the two males who had managed to make it back and were in the infirmary with several broken bones and wounds that needed closing.

  Seventy-two Sitheri had been sent out and only two made it back. And none of them, not one, had taken out a single member of the Des'kos.

  It was maddening.

  How was it that they managed to be so strong? Ithril didn't understand. Of course, if he confronted their leader about it, he would likely be told that they were dealing with rebels and not the main force, but he didn't buy it for a second. And he couldn't do that anyway. The last thing he needed was to bring the entire might of the Des'kos down on his head when it was this hard to go up against the fringes.

  No, he needed a better plan. He needed to think.

  Things had not been going according to plan at all. The Council was backing him in his decisions, but he could see that their hearts weren't in it. They nodded to his face, murmured ‘yes, Leader', and did as he told them to, but there was dissent in their eyes. They didn't want to carry out his orders, and he knew it.

  On top of that, the other clans were refusing to help him. Many of them had already suffered heavy losses from the Des'kos and their might, and they were reluctant to open themselves up to that again. Even with the promise of Sitheri protection.

  So they were no better off than they had been when Angen was alive and in charge.

  In fact, they were almost worse off considering how many of their kind had died in the last few days.

  He didn't understand it. It shouldn't be this hard. Surely someone had defeated the Des'kos before. They'd rule the entire quadrant otherwise, and that wasn't the case. Maybe he was just going about this in the wrong way. Maybe he needed to be more subtle?

  It was so frustrating, and not for the first time, he wished that he had help.

  Ithril wished that his brother hadn't been such a peace loving idiot. Carver had a head for these kinds of things. He would have been able to see a plan through this mess and launch some organized force better than Ithril could.

  But no. Carver wanted to follow the old ways. He wanted to be just like their father and keep giving things up to the Des'kos until they had nothing left. It infuriated Ithril like nothing else, and he slammed his hand down on the polished surface of the table.

  It didn't help that the people were clearly wanting Carver back.

  Ithril had heard the mumblings. He'd heard them talking about how Carver would never have allowed this to happen. How he would have kept their sons and daughters safe and prevented this needless death. He'd heard it in the eating rooms and in the infirmary. He'd seen members of the Council exchanging looks. It was clear to se
e that no one respected his leadership, and that made him angrier than almost anything else about this.

  He needed to calm down. Being upset wasn't going to help anything, and if there was one thing he had learned from his father and older brother's examples it was that going into planning with a clear head made everything easier.

  And he just hated it that things kept coming around to those two.

  Just as he was about to collapse into one of the chairs and maybe think about getting some much needed rest, the door to the hall opened and E'lira stuck her head in.

  "Ithril, may I speak to you?"

  Ithril hated how quiet she'd become since their father's death and Carver's ‘disappearance', but he couldn't very well tell her that he knew exactly where their older brother was and that he was fine more than likely. He didn't know much about Earth aside from what he had been taught about the planet, but knowing Carver, it was unlikely that he would get killed by mere humans, even if they were a warmongering people.

  "Of course, E'lira," he said, gesturing for her to come in. "You don't have to ask."

  She smiled at him, and he was pleased to see it. Someday she was going to make a lovely wife for someone. Maybe the first Sitheri male to bring him the head of one of the Des'kos. It would be quite the prize, definitely incentive for them to try harder. Maybe that was what they needed. A little incentive…

  He shook that thought from his head and turned his attention back to his sister. "Was there something you needed?"

  She seemed to hesitate for a moment and then let out a sigh. "I… I'm worried about you. It seems like you have a lot on your plate that you have to deal with right now, and… and things aren't exactly going according to plan, or so it appears."

  Ithril frowned. "And?"

  "And I was thinking that perhaps you need some help, Ithril. Father named you can Carver both leaders for a reason. He seemed to think that it was necessary and perhaps he was right. I don't want to see you make yourself ill. And the people have been talking…"