Prime Obsession
Prime Obsession
The Prime Chronicles
Monette Michaels
(c) 2009
Prime Obsession
The Prime Chronicles
Monette Michaels
Published 2009
ISBN 978-1-59578-580-0
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509
Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2009, Monette Michaels. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://LSbooks.com
Email:
raven@LSbooks.com
Editor
Terri Schaefer
Cover Artist
April Martinez
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Blurb
Melina Dmitros is a seasoned battleship captain for the Galactic Alliance. Calls from ships in distress are not all that uncommon in the outermost spirals of the Milky Way.
Calls from the warlike Prime were. Now that they were allies, Mel figures she’d better get used to working in conjunction with the chauvinistic race. She never expected to be attracted to one of them.
The Prime, one of the oldest species in the galaxy, were known for going their own way. But with problems on Cejuru Prime and increasing attacks by the Antareans, the Prime joined the Alliance to lend their expertise in battling the warlike reptilian species—
and ultimately, to survive as a race.
Captain Wulf Caradoc, the eldest son and heir apparent of the Prime leader, looked forward to the trip to the Alliance ambassadorial planet. His mission is ostensibly to deliver the diplomatic team to the new Prime embassy. His real mission is to meet his fated mate, his gemate, one of the Lost Ones. Wulf hadn’t anticipated the diplomatic mission being attacked by pirates—and he especially hadn’t anticipated his gemate, Melina Dmitros, being the one sent to rescue his ship.
Two strong people pulled together by biology and fate. Their union will be forged in a crucible of survival, treachery and duty.
Acknowledgements
This book could never have been written without the help of my critique buddy Sherry Crane and early critical advice from Bonnie Dee and Jayelle Drury. I would also like to thank my two beta-readers for their comments and encouragement: Laura Adlam and Holly Shelley. And, as always, thanks to my editor Terri Schaefer, who manages to find all my mistakes. Special thanks to Geoffrey Kidd, proofer extraordinaire, and his spot-on suggestions.
Finally, I dedicate this book to my friend and fellow author, Linnea Sinclair, who writes the best damn science fiction romance in the universe.
Chapter One
A resort on Tooh 2, Mu Arae Solar System
“Captain! Captain! Mel! Dammit, wake up!”
Galactic Alliance Captain Melina Grace Dmitros roused from her light nap in the sun. The tenseness in her second-in-command’s voice was vastly different than the relaxed, jovial mood from their earlier lunch with fellow officers. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought they were back on the command deck of their battle cruiser Leonidas and not lying by a pool in a seaside resort on the garden planet of Tooh 2.
Turning her head slightly to the right, she growled, “What is it, Nowicki?”
“We’ve got a problem!”
Commander Royce Nowicki angled his head toward the poolside café where only ninety minutes earlier they’d officially kicked off Gold Squadron’s three-day leave. Prior to this well-deserved vacation, they, and Captain Garth Warten’s Blue Squadron, had spent three standard months chasing pirates all over the Mu Arae Solar System.
Mel did not want to hear about a problem. Not one. But Nowicki’s body language told her she needed to deal with whatever was bothering him. He did not raise false alarms.
Following Nowicki’s gaze, she not only saw, but heard the problem.
Ensign Steve Parker of Blue Squadron was in the process of taunting and threatening three large men. From the look of their clothing, they were part of some diplomatic team.
Great, just what she needed, a political powder keg.
Removing her dark sunshades, she squinted more closely at the objects of Parker’s drunken rage. Depending on the race, the problem could be more or less serious.
It was more.
“Well, hell. Count on Parker to pick on the new Cejuru Prime ambassador to the Alliance. Is he suicidal or what?” She turned her head and glared at Nowicki. “And, dammit, how in the blazes did Parker get off Tooh 10? I thought he’d been confined to quarters for that last bout of insubordination.”
“Insubordination?” sputtered Nowicki, his eyes fiery with remembered rage. “The cretin almost got you killed!”
Mel rubbed her side where the healing wound was now merely a faint scar. The regen bed had done wonders for the superficial healing, but the underlying muscles and nerves were still knitting back together. Nature could only be helped along so much.
“Warten convinced me that he’d handle the matter. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. But, at the very least, Parker was to be confined to quarters while the Admiral and Warten decided what to do with him.”
She scanned the pool area for Parker’s commanding officer as she reached for her cover-up. Settling potential galactic incidents in a bikini was not protocol.
“Warten’s not here,” Nowicki stated what she had already determined for herself.
“He left the café after lunch, said something about a date with a pillow.”
“Sure. Fine,” she muttered as she struggled into the sheer silken chemise that had looked just right for a day by the pool, but now seemed all wrong for the coming confrontation. And that there would be a confrontation she had no doubt. Parker was a hothead; he wouldn’t back down. Dammit. “Garth is off tangling in the sheets with some tanned, voluptuous Tooh 2 cutie, and I get to clean up his mess.” Spying two other of her senior officers, she turned to Nowicki. “Get J’ar and A’tem.
Call for military security. Then clear the area around Parker. I don’t want any innocents hurt if the Prime decide to teach Parker a well-deserved lesson.”
“Captain, what are you gonna do? Maybe we should just let the Prime pound him.” Nowicki’s pale blue eyes glinted at the possibility.
“You didn’t wake me up so foreign dignitaries could beat up one of ours. You and I both know the Alliance does not need a galactic cluster fuck,” she stated. “The Prime are joining us after centuries of isolationism. We need their knowledge and skills in fighting the Antarean raiders. I’m still not sure what they need from us, but I do know the Galactic Alliance Counsel is thrilled that they’ve chosen to fight alongside us. But it isn’t a done deal.”
“Great,” snarled Nowicki. “So, you need to place yourself between Parker and danger—again—for the frigging peace of the galaxy. I should have just let you sleep and beat on the scum-sucking bastard myself.”
“You did the right thing. Parker would never have listened to you. Then you would’ve been thrown in the brig for fighting or, worse, injured, and I really would’ve been annoyed.” Raising one brow, she smiled. “Me? I outrank him. He hates my guts.
And has always underestimated me. Plus, I owe him,” she touched the healing scar again,
“and am hoping
to have to use un reasonable force. So, your job is to keep everyone out of harm’s way. Understand?”
“Yeah, just be careful. He cheats.”
“I know. Now go!”
Striding toward the café, she opened up all six of her senses and observed the three Prime males, testing their emotional response to Parker’s insanity. The oldest one, the Ambassador—his name escaped her for the moment—spoke to Parker in what she could tell were low, calming tones. The Ambassador’s emotional aura read as cool and calm, a true diplomat. Not so for his two much younger associates; they were all red-hot anger barely controlled.
Knowing Parker, the diplomatic route would just set him off even more.
Mel approached the four men. Cautiously. Quietly. Her heightened senses became even more so as adrenaline poured into her system. Her heart pounded. She licked suddenly dry lips and took a deep, cleansing breath. Her muscles twitched, readying themselves for whatever might come.
As she’d expected, anger roiled off Parker in waves, probably exacerbated by alcohol consumption. She could smell him; it was as if he’d bathed in potent Tooh 2
whiskey. Alcohol notwithstanding, Parker always ran hot; his temper could boil over in a flash. Definitely not officer material. Coolness in the heat of battle was always best. He’d only made it to the rank of Ensign because of political connections. If he survived this incident, she’d have to insist he be sent away from the Mu Arae system. There was too much tension in this sector of the Milky Way as it was without adding loose cannons.
“Ensign Parker!” She stopped about three feet from his right side, in his peripheral line of sight. He’d have to turn his head to see her. “Stand down.”
“Go away, you fucking bitch!” he spat out. She could always count on Parker to be disrespectful, mentally adding insubordination to the list of charges against him. “This is a private conversation.”
“That’s Captain Fucking Bitch, to you, soldier.” All three Prime turned their attention away from Parker. They eyed her bikini-suited body inadequately covered by the thin shift. Their pale amber gazes turned molten hot, darkening to the color of aged single malt scotch. She could smell, almost taste, the adrenaline levels shoot up in all three men. Their gazes projected a complex mix of emotions—concern for her, anger at Parker, and lust for her body.
Great. This could get ugly fast. A damn disaster in the making.
Historically, male Prime were described as overprotective of females and needed few reasons to fight. Right now, they had the perfect trifecta of excuses to hand Parker his head on an ancient Prime battle lance. Documented as the oldest humanoid race in the galaxy, the Prime hadn’t survived this long without learning how to fight to win. They sure as heck didn’t need her, a mere Terran female, to fight their battles. Yet, Parker would be dead meat if she left them to it. And a horrible diplomatic mess would then ensue, that most likely was the only thing holding the Prime back—for now.
If she handled the situation, Parker would be bruised, battered, and, hopefully, unconscious, and the new bond between the Prime and the Alliance could go forward. An additional plus, the new allies would see that Alliance female officers didn’t need alpha male warriors to fight their battles.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Ensign Parker, you are under arrest. I am not even sure what you’re doing on Tooh 2. The last I heard Captain Warten had confined you to quarters.”
Parker turned his attention from the Prime toward her. Exactly what she’d wanted.
Her gaze fixed on Parker as she watched for his move.
In a calm, authoritative tone, her eyes never moving from her opponent, she said,
“Ambassador. Gentleman. Please leave. I apologize on behalf of the Alliance if this man has insulted you or caused you any embarrassment. This is a military problem and I will handle it.”
Around her, she heard—and felt—her men clearing the café. She let the noise and emotions of the curious crowd pass over her. Her focus was divided between Parker and the Prime. All angry alpha males. The situation was fluid, highly charged. Anything could change at any time.
The Prime didn’t move away, but they didn’t attack either. Maybe that was the best she could hope for, that the three warriors would stand and observe—at least until they thought she needed assistance.
Mel wouldn’t let it come to that. Despite her smaller size as compared to the large Prime males, she was of above-average height for a Terran woman and extremely well-trained. She was also well aware of Parker’s weaknesses. Her strengths in battle were stamina, quickness, the ability to read her opponent, and, most often, her opponent’s overconfidence.
She stood quietly, balancing her weight on the balls of her feet, ready to move.
Increasing anger and hatred flowed from Parker in invisible waves so hot they swept across her skin like a volcanic windstorm.
Nothing and no one moved. It was if the area surrounding the café was encased in a bubble, isolating it from the rest of the resort.
Then Parker’s left eye twitched. His tell.
Her lips thinned into a grim smile. The three Prime males tensed as if to move.
She moved first, yelling at the Prime. “Stay out of it.” Mel dodged Parker’s lurching move to grab her. Her fist drove into his stomach like a cannonball. Roaring in rage, he grabbed the strap of her cover up and ripped the garment away as she twisted and spun out of his reach. The silken fabric slid down her body to tangle at her feet. Leaping out of the puddle of silk, she sent a hard front kick to his gut, knocking him away from her. The percussion from the solid hit traveled up her leg into the healing laser wound across her obliques.
She grunted at the sharp, stabbing pain. Sublimating the ache, she turned it into responsive anger, anger that this shithead had ruined her first leave in half a standard year.
Like the bullheaded son of a bitch he was, Parker charged her. Anticipating his move, she stepped to the side, throwing a side kick to his groin. He turned just enough that she merely caught the edge of his hip.
“How’s the side, bitch?” Parker taunted in a raspy voice as he circled her. He threw a booted kick at her healing wound as she spun away. His foot glanced off it.
Mel hissed, swearing under her breath. Moving fluidly, she delivered a reverse head kick. With the full power of her pelvic girdle, she caught him on the jaw. Hard. Really hard.
Holding his jaw, shock in his eyes, Parker staggered back. He bled from where he’d bitten his lip. He rubbed his jaw, shifting it from side-to-side.
Damn. Too bad, she hadn’t broken it.
Spitting out blood and a tooth, he snarled as he circled, looking for an opportunity to hurt her. “They threw me out of the military because of you, bitch. You deserve whatever I dish out.”
She stared at him, not answering. Why waste her breath? She needed it for the fight.
Parker had always been an impatient fighter, always wasting energy. He’d be flagging, while she still had energy in reserve.
She’d have reserves, that is, if the pain from her reinjured side did not weaken her first. Pushing the throbbing agony to a place deep within her brain, she breathed slowly, deeply. Waiting.
“Captain?” Nowicki sounded scared. He knew her fighting ability, knew she could beat Parker. So, why all the concern?
Hell, she must look worse than she felt.
She sensed the three Prime moving closer, as if to render assistance. After all the trouble and pain she’d gone through to get Parker’s attention away from the diplomatic team, she wasn’t going to allow them to intervene, no matter how bad she looked.
“Stay out of this, Nowicki!” she snarled. “That’s an order. Just keep everyone out of the way.”
Parker was distracted by the exchange between her and Nowicki. His feral gaze looked beyond her to where Nowicki stood.
Using his momentary mental lapse, she went on the attack. Sweeping low with her dominant leg, she kicked Parker’s leg
s out from under him. He recovered just enough to go only to his knees. As he struggled to get up, she kicked his jaw, the loud whack from her sandals echoing off the walls of the café patio.
This time the jaw broke. Her mouth twisted into a satisfied smile as she pictured him in prison, eating all his meals through a straw.
Continuing to use his off-balanced position to her advantage, she kicked him in the ribs and got off a shot at his nose before he managed to scramble backwards like a crab and use a low wall to struggle to his feet.
He charged her, all technique gone, acting only on his rage. Since Parker had a longer reach, both in his arms and legs, the only way she could beat him was to stay out of his way, keep him off-balance, and wear him down.
For the next two minutes, she did just that, coolly dancing around the enraged man, punishing him with hard, well-placed hits and kicks.
She took a few glancing punches and her side throbbed like a son-of-a-bitch. While there was no blood, indicating that the regen seal held on the surface, she knew something inside had given away. She was fading fast. She needed to end the fight.
After another well-placed kick that spun Parker into a table, Mel danced on her toes.
She breathed deeply, blocking the pain, waiting to see what he would do next, watching for an opening to take him down once and for all.
Nowicki’s “He’s got a knife” sounded just as she caught a glint of light reflecting off something in Parker’s hand.
Then he rushed her.
Surprising him, she moved into him with a twist of her body. She grabbed his knife-hand by the wrist and broke it, using a technique she’d learned from reading ancient Prime training manuals.
Bellowing with pain, he dropped the knife.
In a continuation move, she turned even more into him, then maneuvered him over her hip, flinging him away from her. He hit a retaining wall with his head and then slumped onto the ground, unconscious.
From the rush with the knife to Parker hitting the floor was a matter of mere seconds.