Heroes At Heart: Captive Heroes Part 19

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.

"I think I just pa.s.sed out. Too much excitement, I guess. I should have eaten something today. Low blood sugar," she lied. Truth was she didn't know what had happened. She'd just suddenly been overwhelmed with everything and lightheaded.

She couldn't have been out for too long as he was still alive. They would need to... Heat zipped through her as she thought about how she'd pumped those virgin, Yellow Hair chicks for information about the cure for the otherwise fatal Pa.s.sion Poison.

When their answer came as a twenty-four-hour s.e.x marathon, her mouth had dropped open in shock. She hadn't cared for how the leader of the virgins had commented that Kinley-G.o.ddess of Freedom extraordinaire-should know such things. She was, after all, the woman who had created the rituals the so-called Yellow Hairs followed.

Of course Kinley had a snappy comeback, letting the girls know she was just testing them to make sure they were up to speed on their education. But the leader hadn't been fooled and so Kinley had revealed the truth. She'd been hit on the head and lost her memory. Thankfully they had bought her story. Those innocent young women had been easily duped, allowing Blackie and her to escape.

"Why do you smile so?" Blackie asked with a harsh gruffness in his voice.

Uh oh, the guy is back to p.i.s.sed-off mode again.

Kinley struggled to sitting. The lightheadedness she'd been experiencing had vanished.

Gazing around the room, she was overcome with a sense of familiarity. For instance, she knew what the sliding part.i.tion on a nearby console would be used for. But would it work after all this time being dormant? A sense of adrenaline gushed through her and she swung her legs over the padded bed.

"You should not get up. It is too soon," Blackie urged. His iron-strong arm swept gently across her midriff, preventing her from standing.

"I'm okay. I need to move. Need circulation to get my brain working."

He glared at her, shaking his head, a deep frown marring his handsome features. Gosh, he really did look s.e.xy-hot. Long, black bangs swept over his forehead and the black shadow of a beard and moustache hugged his tanned face. And that sensually shaped mouth of his...her p.u.s.s.y tingled at the thought of having his lips kissing between her thighs.

"Please...let me get up?" she whispered, her voice husky and aroused.

l.u.s.t splashed into his eyes, pus.h.i.+ng aside his command. Reluctantly he removed his arm and backed away.

"Have you eaten?" she asked as she made her way to the part.i.tion in the wall. Beside it was the intercom, a menu on the wall and a black b.u.t.ton.

She knew this s.h.i.+p was outfitted with hydrogen cell batteries, a newly developed technology back on Earth. The batteries allowed for endless energy, even under catastrophic conditions. But how in the world was this state-of-the-art s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p here when this energy source had just been discovered not too long ago on Earth?

Back on Earth...endless energy...catastrophic conditions... The words floated through her mind as she pushed the black b.u.t.ton. She gasped in surprise and then happiness as the computerized menu screen flickered to life.

"What is this?" Blackie said from behind her.

"Menus for food. That is, if we could be so lucky."

"Food?"

"Yeah, lots of food. If it works," she answered.

Please work.

She touched the screen and d.a.m.ned if it didn't flip the page to the next menu.

Oh get out of here!

The computer on this s.h.i.+p still worked. NASA should be proud.

She tried hard to ignore the b.u.t.terflies of anxiety rolling through her belly at the depth of her knowledge about this s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p, as well as the menus she scrolled through.

Okay, so she wasn't on Earth. She got that now. Probably that's why her brain had shut down and she'd pa.s.sed out. Maybe she had needed the blackout to force her brain to relax and a.s.semble everything?

She was in the company of a hunky, well-hung stud who spoke a little broken English. Not that guys on Earth didn't speak broken English or weren't well-hung. They did and they were. But this guy... Kinley s.h.i.+vered as ripples of pleasure s.h.i.+fted through her. This guy had to be some sort of soul mate or something, because she'd never experienced this weird, tingling, caring kind of thing about a man before. Especially about a man she'd practically just met and had s.e.x with so many freaking times. She didn't know how she'd never cared like this about a guy before, she just did.

This s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p had crashed. Was it hers? Couldn't be. It looked as if it had been here for years. Especially with all the vines and trees growing so closely around it. It had to have crashed many, many years ago, and yet the technology was current. Weird. Maybe there was a time warp in s.p.a.ce that she'd slipped through?

"You strike me as a steak-and-potatoes kind of guy," she mused as she pressed the appropriate numbers from the menu into the keyboard. Then she poked the black b.u.t.ton, held her breath and hoped to h.e.l.l it worked. Suddenly the door on the little compartment slid open with a squeak and Blackie gasped from behind her.

A plate of steaming food sat inside. Her mouth watered at the toasty smell of steak. Beside the steak were mashed potatoes, baby carrots and peaches, and creamed corn. Behind the plate, a small flute of red wine.

s.h.i.+t! It worked!

But was the food still good after all this time?

Something deep inside told her yes. All the food in the replicator was freeze-dried and stored in tamper-proof, non-deteriorating plastic containers that would last up to fifty years. Again NASA should be proud and, heck, she was proud she could remember these important things too.

Grabbing the hot plate and cold flute of wine, Kinley placed them on a nearby table. She gazed at Blackie and ignored his pale, shocked face.

"Come and eat. I'll whip up something for myself." No use explaining to him what this was all about. Besides, NASA protocol forbade it.

Kinley smiled. Okay, so some of her memories had made an appearance while she'd been unconscious.

"We must go," Blackie said coolly and made his way to the door. When she didn't follow, an angry shade of red quickly returned to his face. He was mad.

"Oh you don't want to leave just yet, Blackie. I need to get some ointment on that knife wound of yours. It's the least I can do for putting it there," she said softly.

Quickly she entered some more numbers into the computer. He wouldn't want to miss her next project. The door slid open and Kinley immediately grabbed the items inside. First-aid ointment, bandages and something else. The cool metal kissed her palm, giving her confidence and power. When she swung around and faced him, his angry gaze lowered to her weapon of choice.

A gun.

He frowned, understandably so.

"Now I'd suggest you sit down. I'll tend to your injury while you eat what I put on the table or I'll shoot your b.a.l.l.s off one at a time."

His eyes widened in disbelief at her coolly spoken remark. He probably thought she'd lost her mind. Good, that would make it easier to get him to do what she wanted. She dropped her aim to parts south. A warm smugness brewed inside her as his Adam's apple bobbed wildly in his throat. Clearly he understood what a gun was used for.

"And if you don't finish all your vegetables, I'll shoot your c.o.c.k off. And shooting off your c.o.c.k will make me very angry, because then we won't be able to have more of the wild s.e.x we had earlier in those virgins' teepee. And I, for one, do not wish to act like a virgin tonight. So do as I say...sit!"

His eyes blazed with intense anger and he remained still. Obviously he did not enjoy being commanded at gunpoint. Or having his jewels threatened in such a manner.

"Please," she muttered and pointed the gun to the plastic chair he should sit in. h.e.l.l, she may as well be mannerly.

"And let me know how the wine tastes. It must be perfectly aged after all this time."

Without waiting for him to sit, she kept the gun leveled at him and did a further scan of the menu. Touching the forward b.u.t.ton, she flipped through several menus until she arrived at the area she was searching for. Excitement shot through her as she read the variety of items available to her.