Page 28 of Aliens Love Curves
I trace the strong line of his jaw, feeling him shiver at my touch. "Things were already complicated."
"Harlan—"
"Is part of the mission." I meet his eyes, willing him to understand. "Just the mission."
His tail tightens reflexively around my thigh. "And this? What is this?"
"This is..." I pull him down for another kiss, softer this time. "This is real."
He rests his forehead against mine, his breath shaky. "We're going to get ourselves killed. Or worse, compromise the mission."
"Probably." I can't help but smile. "But at least we'll die knowing what this feels like."
A laugh rumbles through his chest. "That's not funny."
"It's a little funny." I shift beneath him, drawing a groan. "Besides, Harlan's more likely to reveal things if he thinks he's winning me over. Especially now that he thinks you and I are done."
Stryker's expression darkens. "If he touches you again..."
"He will." I cup his face, forcing him to meet my eyes. "He has to think he has a chance. But this?" I gesture between us. "This is where I want to be."
He kisses me again, hard and quick. "Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't let him..."
"I promise." I pull him back down, losing myself in the feel of him. "Now stop talking about Harlan and kiss me properly."
Later, as we lie tangled together, I know we've crossed a line we can't uncross. This thing between us – this fierce, impossible wanting – it could destroy everything. The mission, our careers, maybe even us.
But with Stryker's heartbeat strong under my cheek and his tail wrapped protectively around my waist, I can't bring myself to care.
Let tomorrow bring what it will. For now, this is enough.
This is everything.
Chapter 14 – Stryker
Out of sight of the security cameras, my tech-pad's soft glow illuminates the darkened observation deck as I scroll through another missing person's report. Third one this month, all within a five-mile radius of Quickening Gliders. All promising young pilots.
Kira Vex, age 22. Last seen entering Quickening Gliders' testing facility. "Believed to have left planet seeking better opportunities," according to official records.
Zenn Malax, 19. Disappeared after a "successful" prototype test flight. Body never found.
Lin Serra, 24. Another "voluntary departure" that doesn't add up.
My tail lashes with agitation as I dig deeper. The pattern is too clear, too consistent to be coincidence. Young pilots, all with exceptional skills, all vanishing after involvement with prototype testing.
Like Casey.
The thought makes my blood run cold. I pull up more records, cross-referencing dates with Quickening Gliders' test flight schedules. A pattern emerges – disappearances clustering around major technological breakthroughs, new prototype releases, racing events.
"Accessing restricted files," my tech-pad warns. I override the security protocols, using enforcer clearance codes that will hopefully go unnoticed. A new batch of files appears – medical records, all heavily redacted.
Something about genetic compatibility. Enhancement trials. Failed integration attempts.
My claws click against the screen as I download everything, heart racing. This is bigger than weapons smuggling. Darker.The medical equipment Casey spotted, the missing pilots, these disturbing records...
A sound in the corridor sends me melting into shadows. Two security guards pass, their conversation drifting through the door.
"...another one scheduled for next week..."