The Uncertain Scientist (The Lost Planet 4) - Page 11

There’s an audible crackle, then a soft voice with a light twang, a twin of Molly’s plays over the speakers. “My name is Willow Franklin, from Earth II. My mother, Molly, was sentenced to life at the Exilium Penitentiary after killing my father in self-defense. I’ve been searching for her for twenty years. There are several reformatory planets in our galaxy, but I’m looking for planet Mortuus, formerly known as planet Earth. If you can hear me, please respond.”

Exilium Penitentiary.

Planet Mortuus.

Twenty years.

Oh. My. God.

My mind buzzes with many questions, none of which I have answers to.

“There have been no other communications?” I could tell them where I’m from, what I was meant to do, but I keep my mouth shut. I owe them nothing, not even if I feel the stirrings of friendship for this woman. Not even if I’m carrying one of their own.

She shakes her head morosely. “Nothing. Sayer’s been working day and night, but there hasn’t been another transmission that he’s detected. I practically live in this room now.” Molly gives herself a little shake and turns deliberately away from the screens. Her smile brightens. “I’m glad you came to find me. I didn’t mean to miss our meeting today.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say gruffly.

Molly pushes to her feet and crosses the room to me. She ignores it when I stiffen and takes my hand instead. “Now that you’re out and about, why don’t I give you a tour of the place? It’ll do both you and the baby well to get some air, walk around. Truth be told, it would be good for me, too. Draven’s been begging me to take some time away from monitoring the comm lines.”

She continues to chatter as she pulls me from the room and down the hall. I let her because I can still sense the sadness behind her eyes, and it wouldn’t hurt to learn more about the facility…and the people inside it.

Molly wraps her arm around mine and tells me about each of the rooms, and their uses. She points out the quarters for each of the aliens and their mates and I file away the information for future reference. You never know when something could be useful. She’s babbling on about how Aria and Breccan met when I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye.

A compartment door slides open. Two tall figures are illuminated by the light behind them. My brain takes a moment to place names to faces to figure out who is who due to shock.

Sayer…and Jareth.

And they’re much too close to simply be friends.

4

Jareth

I stroke my claw along Sayer’s jaw, reveling in the sharp angle of the bone. It’s my favorite part of him. I often lick him there because it gets him achingly hard for me in the blink of an eye. I’m about to do just that—lick him—when I feel someone’s stare on me.

Lifting my gaze, I lock eyes with Grace’s dark gray ones.

Instantly, fury rises up inside of me. The need to protect my mate from shame and ridicule, overwhelming. My sub-bones begin popping one by one, alerting Sayer to what’s grabbed my attention.

“Rekk,” he utters under his breath.

“If she tells…” I don’t have to finish that statement. Sayer knows. If she tells, Breccan will lose his mind. We’ll both be locked in a reform cell because of choices the other morts won’t understand.

Sayer is a part of me.

The part inside me that beats with life and love and happiness.

They’ll say we’re diseased. Clearly mad with The Rades. No mort will understand that, despite being unable to reproduce, we have chosen to be mates.

“Grace,” I bark out, stalking over to the doorway, ignoring Sayer’s hissed warning.

She straightens her spine, wiping the look of shock off her face. Her normal disgust for me and my kind transforms what would normally be attractive features.

“Jareth.” She meets my glare with one of her own.

Molly frowns my way in confusion.

“Draven was looking for you and he seemed flustered,” I lie, sending her on her way without a glance back.

“Grace,” Sayer says calmly from beside me. “Come sit with us.”

When I growl in protest, it seems to please Grace because she nods. With her hands on her protruding stomach, she waddles our way, her eyes challenging me.

“I was just coming to see you,” she tells Sayer, smirking at me as she passes.

Sayer pins me with a hard stare before smiling at her. “You’re always welcome here.”

The door closes behind her, locking the three of us inside. As soon as we’re alone, she opens her mouth.

“I thought you hated me because you’re an evil alien,” she says, shaking her nog. “But I was wrong.” She points at Sayer. “And you? I thought you were some gentleman caught in the crossfire of what your people did to me. Again, I was wrong.” She crosses her arms over her breasts, making them nearly spill from her top. “Turns out, Jareth, you hate me because you’re in love with Sayer. And you, Sayer, don’t want me because you’re in love with Jareth.”

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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