Unexpected Read online

  Yoran blinked, and his face flushed before he dropped his gaze to the floor. So he couldn’t even bear to look at her now. Hurt spiraled through her, pulling her down. It would only take a moment to dissolve this false image she’d taken on, for his sake, to run from here and never return. Never feel that pain of rejection again.

  Instead she turned for the door, stumbling as she walked toward it. Yoran didn’t try to stop her as she left.

  WHAT WAS I THINKING? Yoran slammed a fist on the damaged console, and the panel sagged farther under the abuse. No wonder she’d run away. How could he have thought of kissing her? She had no idea what that meant for a human. So innocent, so naïve. He’d have been taking advantage of her. Of course she’d fled in fear and disgust. If she had any sense, she’d stay well away from him until he left.

  Except he couldn’t leave. Without her help, his ship was a useless heap of junk.

  He was going to have to find her and beg her to come back.

  SORAYA FOUND THE SMALLEST hole she could fit through and crawled inside. The space opened up around her, big enough to accommodate her borrowed shape but not as comforting as her burrow. She sat huddled in the center, the pulses of light beneath her skin sluggish. For a moment she had felt closer to Yoran than anyone ever before. An instant later it had all turned to darkness and left an ache in her heart that wouldn’t ease.

  What had gone wrong?

  A short, sharp tremor fluttered against the soles of her feet and her buttocks where she sat on the ground, followed by another and another, each stronger than the last. She recognized the rhythm. Yoran’s footsteps, this time on stone and dust rather than metal.

  She hugged her knees, tucking her head in, but the vibrations persisted. Even hidden from his sight, she couldn’t escape her awareness of his presence.

  But why was he out here? Surely not looking for her? He’d not wanted her, she’d realized that much. And yet, what other reason was there for him to be outside his ship?

  He can’t repair it without you.

  Of course. He might not want her, but he needed her. Her energy pulses slowed, almost as if passing into the long, dark sleep through the cold phase of her planet. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t as if he could stay, or she could go with him. It was just as well he didn’t want her. It was wrong to get so attached to another being in this way, and one so alien.

  The footsteps were closer. She turned her head to see his dust-covered boots passing the gaps in her rocky hiding place. If she’d had her true form, she could have seeped into the cracks surrounding her and been completely impossible to find, but in this form she’d been restricted in her choice of sanctuary.

  Yoran’s feet stopped just a few paces shy of her. If he crouched down, he’d see her.

  I should go back to him. Finish the ship so he can leave. Get rid of him.

  But again, that dark spiral pulled her down at the thought of him leaving despite his rejection. Despite that thread of anger.

  Vibrations pulled her from her inner turmoil. Yoran had started walking again, his pace slower. She doubted he could feel her in the same way she’d sensed him, and yet it was almost as if he knew she was nearby. His footsteps hesitated, then came back the same way before turning again in the opposite direction.

  Go out to him, you fool...

  How could she? She didn’t want to see revulsion in his face from the fact he had to deal with an alien to save his own skin.

  But if she didn’t, he’d die.

  No. She couldn’t let that happen, or cause his death by doing nothing. Soraya uncurled herself and slid her bulky human form through the narrow gap in the stone.

  While she’d fought herself over what to do, Yoran had slumped down onto the ground, head bowed inside the metal and glass dome protecting him from the planet’s atmosphere. The dejection in every slump and slack line of him told her more than any thought. Hope had left him the moment she had.

  Soraya took a hesitant step toward him, torn between running away and her deep-seated instinct to help any in distress. She couldn’t ignore that basic drive, the core of her very being. To do so would be to deny her own self and reason for existence. But it went deeper than that with Yoran, and the knowledge set fear squirming through every thread of her body. She would rather see her own existence end than fail him.

  Yoran’s head jerked up as she took another cautious step toward him. Soraya froze, braced for condemnation in his gaze, but it wasn’t there. His lips parted, eyes shining. No, his whole face shone as though he’d seen the sun for the first time after the long dark. No revulsion. No disgust. Only happiness.

  He scrambled to his feet, awkward in the protective suit. The step he took toward her was as hesitant as hers had been. Was he just as afraid?

  He raised his hands palm outward, as if to prove he had no weapon, no intent to hurt. Then he slowly started to peel off one of the gloves he wore.

  Soraya grasped his wrist, halting his actions. No. The atmosphere here was too harmful for him to risk it.

  Very gently he removed her hand, again making the peaceful gesture before continuing. Soraya’s energy lines pulsed faster, rising panic sending her systems into overdrive. Why was he doing something so foolish? So dangerous? He pulled the glove free, and grimaced as his skin instantly blistered in the corrosive air. Soraya wrapped both hands around his, to shield him as much as she could. A sharp jolt of emotions poured into her: regret, guilt, apology, a tumbling tide that set her legs shaking.

  “...so sorry, I never meant for you to know what I was feeling...it was inappropriate...please, forgive me...”

  The words came in a torrent and swept away any she wanted to say. Heat blossomed inside her chest, lifted the shadow weighing her down. Somehow she’d misread him before. The disgust had been directed inward at himself, not at her. He was ashamed of trying to kiss her. Of wanting her in a way that was wholly human.

  Her lips tingled at the memory, a sensation that spread. She’d wanted it too, but what would it do to her? She wasn’t human. Shouldn’t even feel like this. And yet something more had bound them together in ways she didn’t understand, or had ever thought possible.

  “...Soraya, please. Am I forgiven? I never meant to hurt you, to frighten you. If you want nothing more to do with me, I’ll understand—”

  “No.”

  The single word crushed him into silence, his pain a dark rush that dimmed her light. She squeezed his hand, trying to project reassurance.

  “I still want to help you. I want you to get back to your stars.” His response of gratitude and relief warmed her more than sunlight. “I would never abandon you.”

  “I’d understand if you did.” Yoran gave her a grin. “Plenty of people have.”

  “Not me.” How could she give up now? Not ever. Not even when he leaves and I’ll never see him again. She buried the ache the prospect gave her so that he wouldn’t feel it. “Please, let’s go back to your ship and let me heal these burns.”

  Yoran glanced at his hand as if he hadn’t felt his skin scorching. “Ow. Yeah. Thank you.”

  YORAN WAGGLED HIS NEWLY-healed fingers, turning his hand this way and that.

  “Y’know, a lot of people would kill for a talent like that.”

  Cold shock sent her energy pulse speeding in response. “They would kill?”

  “Sorry, unfortunate turn of phrase,” Yoran said hastily, then frowned. “Though actually, some really might.”

  Soraya shuddered. “I would happily use my skills to help others, but not to kill.”

  “That makes you the better person. Even if you aren’t human. Maybe not being human is a good thing.” Yoran sighed, then added hesitantly, “Soraya, when I leave—”

  The ship rocked, and the boom of sound hit her in the chest, knocking her off balance. Yoran fell across her, a sharp burst of his fear and shock zapping into her with almost the same painful jolt as when he’d shot her with the energy weapon.

  “What the—” He jerked a
way from her and scrabbled to his feet, breaking the contact. She couldn’t tell what he was feeling or thinking now, but he leapt for his control panels with an urgency in his movements that sent fear blazing through her system.

  A shadow passed overhead before another silvery shape showed above them, heading away. Another ship. It kicked up dust and stones as it passed, before pivoting in midair. Every move spoke of aggression, and she could see the energy patterns around the ship and the strange cylindrical protuberances from the front. Long tubes alight with deadly energy, like the weapon Yoran had used. But these were far bigger, far more powerful. Far more dangerous.

  Soraya leapt to her feet and grabbed Yoran. “We have to go.”

  “No. If we step outside the ship, they’ll kill us. At least here we have some protection from the hull. And from this.” Yoran hit a control, and Soraya both sensed and saw the sudden envelop of energy around his own ship. Now, as the attacker spat fierce white fire at them, it blurred across the outside of the ship, rocking it but without the shuddering impact of the first bolt.

  Soraya clung to Yoran. Mixed with his anxiety now was a sense of satisfaction at blocking the blasts, and something else. Something harder and more vicious. He touched more controls, and she sensed movement within the craft. Then a jolt as the ship returned fire.

  Sentient beings trying to kill sentient beings...

  “No.” She yanked his hands away from the control, and he turned on her. Fury lit his face, and she shuddered. Aggression and violence among her own kind were as alien to her as these humans, and now, too late, she realized it to be part of their existence. She drew away.

  Yoran’s face fell and he stepped toward her, pausing when she flinched. He held out a hand, his expression begging her to take it. To talk to him.

  Slowly, she did so.

  “Soraya, I’m sorry. I have to defend us somehow.”

  Regret and true remorse bled into her. He wasn’t a killer. But the others would kill him given the chance.

  The ship shuddered around them. Soraya sensed the defensive energy weakening as more and more destructive blasts slammed into its shields. Eventually they would fail and the ship would be destroyed, taking Yoran with it.

  She grasped his hand. “Come.”

  She led him toward the rear of the ship.

  “No.” Yoran halted, dragging her to a stop. “If we go outside the ship, we’ll die. I’ll die.”

  “Your suit—”

  “Is only protection against your atmosphere, not against their weapons.”

  “Don’t worry. I can find a place to hide.”

  “Wait.” Yoran pulled her to face him, his expression serious. She wanted to take his head in her hands and reassure him. “Soraya, the suit won’t protect me forever. The air will run out, and I’ll die.”

  Soraya shivered. No. What could she do to keep this man safe and well?

  The ship shuddered again, and the light turned red. Panic jolted into her from Yoran.

  “The shields are failing. This is it.”

  Soraya ached. No. She couldn’t let him die. “Come with me.” She pulled him to the rear of his ship, urged him to put on his suit. The lights faded and explosions came louder, shaking the ship.

  Yoran hesitated before putting on his helmet. “Soraya?”

  “Yes?”

  “Once I put this on, I won’t be able to talk to you again. I wanted to say thank you. Thanks for all that you’ve done for me, and forgive me if I hurt you. Sorry I’ve put you in danger.”

  Soraya hummed inside. “Wait.” She detached a small part of herself and encouraged it to encircle Yoran’s wrist. He stared at it.

  “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes.” He grinned at her. “Will it work even when I have the suit complete?”

  “Yes. As long as a part of me is touching you, no matter how far apart we are, you can hear me.”

  “That’s awesome.” He sealed his suit and another explosion hammered into the ship. “Time to go.”

  They crawled out through the emergency rear hatch and crept along the ground. The impacts of weapon fire shuddered through the ground and into her body. A huge explosion flattened them, and flame and debris flew overhead. The fire extinguished quickly in the atmosphere, but she could taste the scorched metal in the air, see the miasmic energy signatures swirling off the wrecked ship. The firing stopped, but Yoran kept her moving, glancing often over his shoulder. The fear had returned, this time not simply of the people trying to kill him, but also anxiety over his survival.

  Soraya thought hard. Without his ship, Yoran would eventually perish in her toxic atmosphere, and though she could find the resources to keep him alive, it would be a miserable existence, dependent entirely on her. Unable to travel. Never to return to his stars or live the life he had dreamed off. He would wither and die in time, no matter how well she sustained him.

  But there’s the other ship. Yes, and right now that ship contained a hostile force set on destroying Yoran. How could she resolve this? Would others have to die to save Yoran? The thought appalled her, sickened her. Turned the lines of light on her skin muted. This was beyond her. She had no idea how to help him.

  “Soraya?” They’d come to a dead end while she was lost in thought. The valley sides had narrowed in to close off the space with jagged spears of unclimbable rock. Unclimbable for Yoran, anyway.

  “This way.” She knew a place, although it would be difficult. In her natural form, the tiny tunnels through the porous valley bedrock were no issue, but for the two of them in this form... She tried to shut out the doubts. So much doubt and uncertainty since Yoran had come into her life, and yet so many dazzling, bewildering and wonderful new experiences. She would do anything to keep him safe now.

  YORAN SCRAMBLED AFTER Soraya, glancing often over his shoulder. The shattered remains of his ship were already out of sight, but he had no illusions that Chevelle’s brothers wouldn’t check to make sure he was dead. In fact, it surprised him they hadn’t come looking sooner.

  Maybe they didn’t pick up any life signs when I crashed? He shivered. Who knew how close to death he’d been before Soraya’s intervention. And for all he knew, her presence might have been all that had protected him. Certainly, his ships systems had been dead before he’d even hit the planet.

  Soraya paused, and he almost walked into her. “Sorry.”

  “No matter.” She sounded distracted. “We must go through here.” She stooped and crawled into a tight tunnel that had Yoran’s heart leaping into his throat. She wasn’t serious? There was no way he could fit in there, and even the thought of doing so, the sight of seeing her squeeze her frame into the small, dark hole set his breath stuttering.

  “I can’t go down there. I won’t fit.”

  Soraya had almost disappeared. “It is small, but you will fit. You must.”

  “I can’t.” Yoran wanted to scream. Claustrophobia was his biggest fear after being jammed into a waste outlet as a child, tricked by his peers at school. An initiation, they’d said. A test to prove he was strong enough to join the older kids. He shivered, and sweat slicked the inside of his suit, his heart racing away. “I can’t go down there.”

  “Yoran.” Her voice poured over his fears, settling them in a way he’d never experienced before. Like his mother’s arms around him after they’d got him out, her words and caresses easing the terror away until he could breathe normally and his pulse had settled. “You can do this. I’m with you, and I will help you.”

  He let out a breath. What choice did he have? He might flip out mentally, but at least the brothers would have a hard time digging him out of there even if they could find them.

  “All right.” He crouched down, and forced his head inside. It scrapped along the rock surface, and wedged tight for a second. He yanked himself back out, gasping for air. “I can’t do it.”

  “Yes. You can. It widens out just a little way past.”

  Again, he forced himself to put his head inside t
he hole, his breath juddering. The darkness was broken by the shimmering lines that danced across Soraya’s glossy black skin just a short distance ahead. His helmet caught for a fraction, but the tight entrance released him into the wider space beyond.

  Okay. Maybe he could do this. He kept his gaze locked on Soraya, on the pulsing lines of light as he inched his way along behind her. The edges of the tunnel pressed in on his awareness as if the rock itself was squeezing him. He fought to breathe, to keep himself moving. His arms and legs shook and went numb. Cold inched its way over his body, gradually paralyzing him until he couldn’t move.

  “Soraya.” He could barely form her name in his mind. He closed his eyes. He was stuck.

  “No. You’re not.” Her mind warmed his, soothing, encouraging. “Come to me. We’re nearly at the end.”

  “I...can’t...” Every muscle in his body had locked tight, wedging him into the tunnel as it crushed him, blanking every other thought and sensation. He was suffocating. Dying.

  “Yoran.” Golden light filled his mind, soothing, but it couldn’t take the terror away. “Please. I’m here. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you. Come to me.”

  His hand moved. It jolted him out of the darkness, forced his eyes open. Soraya glowed ahead of him, his only light in the blackness. Calling him. Offering him hope and comfort.

  He moved his other hand, then shuffled forward on his knees, focusing on nothing else but Soraya. On the small band secure around his wrist that bound her to him, mind to mind.

  “That’s it.” Soraya moved, and sunlight fell around her, bursting light across his vision. Panting, he scrambled for the exit, falling flat on his face as he managed to get his upper half out of the tunnel. Gasping, he dragged the rest of his body out of the hole and rolled onto his back to see the sky. He was out! He’d made it.

  “Yoran?”

  He waved a hand, still too out of breath and dizzy to speak, to even think. She leaned over him, her hand on his chest over his heart, and more warmth filled him. Concern shaped her usually impassive face.