Science Friction: 15 Book MEGA Sci-Fi Romance Bundle (Excite Spice Boxed Sets) Read online

  “No!” he shouted and dived for her. He was certain she was going to do it—the blade’s deadly blue field was poised right above her heart.

  But for just an instant, she hesitated.

  It was enough. Boone slammed into her and wrapped one arm around her waist, securing her free hand to her side. At the same time, he grabbed the hand holding the knife and squeezed.

  “Drop it,” he said quietly in her ear. “Just drop it now. Why the hell are you trying to kill yourself anyway?”

  Loki answered for her again. “Because you touched her.”

  “What? But you told me to touch her. And it helped.”

  “Physically maybe. Mentally and emotionally you’ve just given her a hell of a shock. You may as well have raped her.” Loki gave the girl a nasty smile. “She’s contaminated now—she’s been touched by one of the Impure. Of course she wants to die.”

  “Damn it, Loki!” Boone growled, really pissed now. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

  The Erian shrugged, a liquid, graceful gesture. “What difference would it have made? You had to touch her to save her and now you’re going to have to keep touching her if you want to keep her alive. It’s going to be a living hell for you, isn’t it, sweetheart?” He leered at the girl and plucked the gogi dagger from her numb fingers. “I’ll see you two later. Have fun getting to know each other”

  Chapter Three

  “What’s your name, anyway?” Boone asked her.

  They were sitting in the mess hall side by side on a bench drawn up to the large communal table. The thermal blanket was draped around the girl’s shoulders and her hands were bound in front of her with soft but completely unbreakable plasti-seal restraints. Boone had seen to that himself—he wasn’t about to have a repeat performance of what had almost happened in the medlab.

  Mom, the ship’s navigator and all-around mother figure to everyone on board, was humming to herself as she bustled around the far side of the room. Her dark brown hair with a wide streak of silver running down one side and her huge silver-brown eyes denoted her as a resident of Pan. The fourth planet from the Promethean sun had been occupied and its population either purged or subjugated during the Pan Wars by Purists twenty cycles ago. Boone knew, though she didn’t talk about it much, that Mom had lost most of her family in the wars when she was younger. Yet she was at peace, even with a Paladin sitting in the same room with her. She had given the girl one long appraising glance when he first brought her in and then went back to her kitchen duties.

  “Your name?” Boone prompted the shivering Paladin again. He wondered if Loki was right and he was going to have to touch her on a regular basis in order to keep her healthy. He really hoped not—she might be a murdering bitch but he wasn’t a sadist. He didn’t want to do anything to her that she didn’t want done. But how screwed up must her people be if they equated a simple touch to rape? Pretty damn screwed up, he thought, watching her. She shrank away from him as though he had the damn Frellian plague if he moved so much as an inch in her direction.

  “Why do you want to know my name?” She stared straight ahead, clearly reviewing her options. Probably plotting to get away from him and go for another weapon. Boone made a mental note—he wasn’t going to let down his guard around her again.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We’re going to be together awhile. We might as well get to know each other.”

  She gave him a look that was colder than space. “I don’t want to know you and I’m certain you don’t want to know me. What I would like to know is why you lured me and my squad here in the first place.”

  “If you weren’t so damn bloodthirsty it wouldn’t have worked,” Boone countered. “Loki was right—you damn Purists can’t resist the urge to kill anyone who isn’t your own kind. Why is that?” He frowned at her, genuinely curious. The odd religious sect which had grown to encompass the entire planet of Athena was still something of a mystery to him, their genocidal tendencies darkly fascinating.

  She spoke in a monotone. “You are one of the Impure. You must be purged or subjugated so that we can spread the light of Purity to the solar system and the universe beyond.”

  “So this is some kind of a holy war? You believe that no one but you is fit to live?”

  “I believe in Purity.” She raised her chin. “You’re impure and now you’ve contaminated me. Why are you even keeping me alive? Why not kill me too?”

  Boone felt his jaw clench in frustration. “Because I need you, damn it.”

  She arched one eyebrow and gave him an infuriatingly cool look. “You need me?”

  “Not you specifically—just a Purist. Someone... very dear to me was captured by pirates and taken to your damn pshalite mines. Nobody but a Purist can get in and get her out again. I know—I’ve tried.”

  The Paladin stared at him blankly. “You killed my squad and invalidated my entire existence. What makes you think I’d help you?”

  Boone leaned closer and gave her a hard stare. To her credit she didn’t flinch away this time despite his proximity. “Because you want your suit. Want it badly. You might not mind dying if you can’t get it back but you sure as hell don’t want to live without it and the drugs it pumps into you, now do you?”

  She was clearly surprised though she tried not to show it. “My skinsuit supplies me with nutrients and hydration. That’s all.”

  “No, that’s not all. I’ve been studying it. It’s one of the most ingenious biomechanical hybrids I’ve ever seen. A living organism you can wear. It manufactures all kinds of chemicals to inject you with—you’ve got your own personal pharmacy everywhere you go.”

  “That isn’t true—it can’t be.” But a look of uncertainty had crept across her blank features. Boone pressed his advantage.

  “It is. That damn suit’s been pumping you full of drugs and emo-dampers for however long you’ve been wearing it. Loki says you Purists never take them off—when did you first put the damn thing on, anyway?”

  “When I was nine cycles old but that’s irrelevant. My suit nourishes and shields me—it has nothing to do with anything else.” The uncertainty on her delicate features was replaced by stubbornness. “You’re just trying to demoralize me. Well, it won’t work.”

  Boone grinned at her. “Face the truth, darlin’. You’re an addict and that damn suit is your pusher.”

  The Paladin stiffened. “Don’t call me your insulting nicknames.”

  Ah-ha, a chink in the armor. “Tell me your real name then,” he challenged.

  “Fine. It’s K, Commander K to you.”

  Boone frowned. “That’s it? Just Kay? Is it short for Katherine or Katrina? Maybe Katie?”

  “No, K as in the eleventh letter of the old alphabet. There were twenty-six in my birthgroup and I was the eleventh to be taken from the artificial womb.”

  Boone raised his eyebrows. “You mean there are twenty-five more like you?”

  “Not like me, no.” She lifted her chin proudly. “Of my birthgroup, I have progressed the farthest. I am a fourth level Paladin and command my own purge squad—or I did before you killed them.”

  “But I mean, they look like you? You’re all identical?” It was hard to fathom but she was already shaking her head and frowning slightly, as though maybe Boone had hit on something that bothered her.

  “Well... no. The others in my birthgroup are shorter than me and their features are different as well. But it happens sometimes that one stands out from the group. It’s not that unusual.”

  Boone barked a laugh. “I gotta tell you, K, from where I’m sitting just about every damn thing about you is unusual. If by unusual you mean completely fucked up.”

  She looked away from him. “I refuse to have this discussion with you.”

  “Here, Boone, do something else with your mouth besides flapping you jaws.” Mom pushed a steaming mug in front of him. “And you too—can you manage with your hands tied?” she asked, putting a similar mug in front o
f K.

  “I’ll help her,” Boone growled. “Not that she deserves it.”

  “Hush. Leave the poor little girl alone.” Mom slapped him lightly on the shoulder. She was a tiny woman—barely a meter and a half—so Boone completely dwarfed her, but unlike many other littles, she had never given any indication that his size bothered her. It was one of the many reasons he liked her so much. That and the fact that she was always so calm, unlike Loki who was a damn drama queen.

  “This ‘poor little girl’ is a cold blooded killer, Mom,” he protested. “She’d shoot you as soon as look at you if she could get her hands on a pulse pistol.”

  “Oh I know that.” Mom gave K another of her long, appraising looks. “But she was raised to it. And didn’t you just say she was on drugs all this time? People do terrible, crazy things when they’re taking drugs.”

  “She wasn’t so much taking them as being constantly injected with them,” Boone said grudgingly.

  “Well, there you go then.” She nodded at him. “Now drink up.”

  Boone sighed and nodded at the mug in front of K. “You want me to help you?”

  She frowned at the contents of her cup. “What is this? Some kind of nutrient drink?”

  Mom burst out into surprised sounding laughter. “Why honey, that’s hot chocolate with marshmallows. Don’t tell me you’ve never had hot chocolate before—it’s a recipe from Earth-that-was. Any food simulator worth its salt can make it.”

  “We have nothing like it on Athena.”

  “Well then you’re in for a treat. I’ve never met anyone yet who didn’t like it. Go on, Boone, help her take a sip.”

  “All right.” Scowling, he lifted the mug to her lips. “Careful, it’s hot and I might not feel too bad if you got burned.”

  “Boone!” Mom sounded shocked. “You took an oath to heal people.”

  “I did heal her. I stitched her up and carried her around like a Goddamn baby until she was able to walk without falling over. For which she repaid me by grabbing Loki’s gogi dagger and trying to off herself.”

  “She was upset—you would be too in the same situation.” Mom nodded at the apparently impassive K, as though to illustrate her point. “Anyway, it’s over now.”

  Boone scowled even more. “No, it’s not. According to Loki we’re just getting started though I hope to God he’s wrong. But in light of the trouble she’s already given me, I think K here will live if she burns her tongue.”

  “You’re incorrigible.” She slapped him on the shoulder again and smiled. Then she nodded at the girl. “Go on, K honey, try it.”

  K sniffed the dark brown liquid suspiciously. “It smells nothing like a nutrient drink.”

  “Go ahead,” Mom urged again. “It’s not poison, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Boone barked another laugh. “She’d probably drink it down and ask for seconds if it was since she’s so hell-bent on killing herself. Or maybe she doesn’t want to die as badly as she claims.” He raised an eyebrow at K. “That right, darlin’?”

  His mocking tone seemed to grate on her because she lost her impassive look for a moment and glared at him. “I fear nothing. I feel nothing.”

  He frowned. “What is that—some kind of a motto?”

  “It is the Paladin’s code. We live and die by it.” Lowering her head, she took a big sip from the steaming mug. Then she raised her head, frowning. “It’s so sweet.”

  Boone couldn’t help grinning at her startled expression. “Of course it is. Why do you think we drink it?”

  “Not for nutrition, I’d guess. This can’t be good for you.”

  Mom laughed. “Not for your body, maybe. More for your soul. Hot chocolate is comfort food—or comfort drink, in this case I guess.”

  “How is having a mouthful of too much sweetness comforting?” she asked, sounding honestly curious.

  “It’s soothing,” Boone put down her mug and took a sip from his own, much larger one. Seeing her confused expression, he tried to explain. “The creamy liquid running down your throat and warming your stomach. The heat of the mug in your hands. Knowing that someone who cares for you made it.” He smiled at Mom and she smiled back and patted his arm. “Unless you don’t have anyone who cares for you, which is just sad,” he added, looking at K.

  Mom shook her head. “Now, Boone, just hush up and let the poor girl drink her hot chocolate.”

  K stared at them, her head cocked to one side as though she was trying to understand a foreign language. “Excuse my inquisitiveness but I cannot help noticing that the chain of command on your ship appears to be completely off-kilter.”

  “Oh?” Boone put down his mug. “How so?”

  “You are clearly of higher rank while Mom is relegated to nutrition duty—yet you don’t reprimand her for giving you orders. If one of my subordinates spoke to me as she speaks to you I would punish him or her severely. Why do you tolerate such behavior?”

  “Well for one thing, we’re all equal on this ship. And Mom isn’t just the cook—we take turns with that by the way—she’s also our navigator.”

  “And a priestess of Gaia, if you feel in need of spiritual counseling,” Mom put in.

  “My people don’t recognize foreign deities. Only Purity can cleanse the universe and make it whole.” K bowed her head briefly as though in silent prayer, then looked up again. “I still don’t understand why you talk to each other the way you do.”

  “We’re teasing each other.” Mom ran her fingers playfully through Boone’s hair and he grinned at the ticklish sensation and gave her a one-armed hug.

  “We’re making jokes—you know.” He raised his eyebrows at K. “Don’t your people have any sense of humor?”

  “Humor is the first emotion to go when a Paladin begins his or her training,” she said stiffly. “I do not find that I miss it.”

  “Oh honey, I think that’s just the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Mom looked close to crying. “You really don’t have any feelings?”

  “Almost none, which is as it should be.”

  Boone narrowed his eyes and looked at her. “No emotions, huh? I would think that has a lot to do with the dampers your suit has been pumping into you.”

  K’s mouth was tight. “For the last time, my suit has nothing to do with my lack of emotion. It is my devotion to Purity that helps me purge unwanted feelings, nothing more.”

  “Uh-huh.” He took another sip of hot chocolate. “We’ll let you go a week or two without the suit and then see if you’re still feeling so frosty, darlin’.”

  “A week?” Though it was clear she was struggling to keep her expression calm, her voice rose uncertainly. “I thought you said you would give me back my suit if I agreed to cooperate.”

  “Oh, so you’re feeling cooperative now?” Boone eyed her. “Well, it doesn’t matter if you are or not. The damn thing is too damaged to do you any good right now. It’ll be weeks before it’s regenerated enough to wear again. Maybe months.”

  “Months?” This time he could hear the panic from her voice. “But I need it. It shields me—protects me.”

  “It drugs you,” Boone said firmly. “And considering all the shit it’s been pumping into you, I’d sign you into rehab for a whole damn year if you were one of my regular patients.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I am not your patient.”

  “No, you’re my prisoner.” Boone leaned closer to her and she inched back, just a little. The reaction made him even angrier somehow. He didn’t bite, goddamnit, even if she did deserve it. “I’m pretty damn sure we’re treating you a hell of a lot better than you would treat us if the situation was reversed.” He growled. “The Purists don’t usually give their captives hot chocolate before purging them, do they?”

  “I don’t want your filthy Impure drink.” Her voice had gone back to a monotone and she stared straight ahead. “I only want my suit. If you will not give it to me, I might as well purge myself. It is my duty to die now that I have become contaminat
ed anyway.”

  Boone could scarcely believe what he was hearing. “You’re serious? You really want to die just because I touched you?”

  “Isn’t that the effect you usually have on women?” Loki’s sarcastic tenor broke Boone’s concentration on the girl. He looked up in irritation to see the effete Erian leaning against one of the mess hall counters, wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

  “I swear, Loki, if you weren’t such a talented pilot I’d kick your ass three ways to Sunday.”

  “I love you too, Boone.” Loki blew him a kiss. “Now kids, if you’re about done playing footsie under the table we need to talk about our course.”