Liberation (Alien Attachments Book 3) Read online

  CONTENTS

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dedication

  About Sabine

  Alien Attachments Book One Opening

  Kit Athorika is scrambling to retrieve the stash of hidden distorters and avoid the Torogs hunting her.

  Following a signal of foreign psi to an old abandoned building on Florin 5, Balastar Alder stumbles across the pugnacious raven-haired beauty. Not only does Kit have the technology he seeks, but she uses it to port them to safety when the Torogs attack. Without the help of a single Portal Master.

  During their escape from Florin 5 they’re forced to go silent and lay-low in an asteroid field. The chemistry between them soon ignites, but reality pulls them apart. They go their separate ways only to find their attraction is more than just chemistry.

  As they explore their new bond, interstellar portals across the galaxy are failing and the secretive Portal Masters are getting desperate and deadly.

  Can the psi-mates free Kit's home planet and take down the Portal Masters without losing their lives in the process?

  ***

  Books by Sabine Priestley

  Alien Attachments Series

  Alien Attachments

  Rebellion

  Liberation

  Alien Bond - A short story sequel to the series.

  ***

  Liberation

  An Alien Attachments Novel

  Sabine Priestley

  KAC Publishing

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Get down!” Balastar Alder shoved the woman to the ground as a projectile exploded on the wall opposite. “Move. Now!”

  She scrambled to her hands and knees. Tight pants covered a nice ass as she bound with surprising speed toward a door on the far side of the room in the abandoned building.

  About to pass her, he reached out instead and grabbed the back of her shirt. A hard yank, and she dropped next to him as the latest projectile blew a hole in the floor where she’d been.

  “Shit,” she said, scanning the room. A bright yellow streak of hair framed one side of her face, a striking contrast to the rest of her jet-black locks.

  Balastar brushed her psi. Scared but in control. Good. I don’t know who you are but you’re no damsel in distress. He pointed to their right. “Over there. Down that chute.”

  She followed his gaze. “Are you crazy? It’s a frickin’ laundry chute.”

  “Use your psi. We’ll be fine.”

  She shook her head and backed up, doing an inverted crab walk. “It’s small and dark. I don’t do small and dark, and you’ll never fit, anyway.”

  The window behind her exploded. They covered their heads and a round, metallic object rolled across the floor.

  They bolted across the room toward the chute. She turned at the last minute, panic on her face, so Balastar scooped her up and shoved her, feet first, through the opening. “Ladies first.”

  She screamed as he followed behind. He had to angle his body diagonally within the square chute. He relaxed his muscles and, tapping into his psi energy, he used it to compress his body farther. Psi wrapped around and squeezed his shoulders to the point of pain. It was tight, and bloody uncomfortable, but he’d make it. How people without psi managed, he didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. It was a good thing his shirt was lightweight, or she would have been right. He wouldn’t have fit. A muted hiss from above told him the alien Torogs weren’t wasting time. The gas would either knock them out or kill them. Judging by the force they’d used thus far, he wasn’t waiting around to find out which.

  Below him the woman came to a halt. He could just make out part of her form below. Her right foot was wedged at a bad angle. He stopped his descent as her screams started anew with a rising panic they didn’t have time for.

  “Shhh. Relax, you need to straighten your leg. Here . . .” No way she could hear him over the racket she was making. He enveloped her psi with his own. She was in full-on panic mode, her claustrophobia having taken over. Balastar blocked her fear. Her psi was different—foreign somehow. Of course, she’s one of them. He continued to intermesh with her psi, and damn if it didn’t feel good. He sensed her ability to think returning. Angry at herself for losing it, she shoved her leg out and slid the rest of the way down. He followed behind, dropping the last two feet to the ground as she stepped out of the way. They’d emerged into a musty basement. Dirty tube lights provided the only illumination. Rusted pipes jutted out from the walls and dilapidated machinery lay in heaps throughout the space.

  The streak in her long hair, now orange, reflected the lights, giving her face a strange glow. She shook out her arms and paced the dust-covered floor. Her jeans were tucked into knee-high boots, and a white shirt that would never be white again covered ample breasts. From her pocket, she pulled out a black device. One Balastar recognized.

  “We have to go,” she said, her brown eyes squinting. “Come here.”

  Balastar took a few steps closer to her as the smell of gas reached them. The pull on his psi and the buzz of energy confirmed they were in a portal. There it was again. The foreign twinge of her psi. And again, the pleasure that came with it. A few moments later, they were in darkness, the erotic caress of her psi gone instantly. A pity. He’d had enough time to imagine what touching her would feel like.

  “Well, that was interesting.” Her voice was clipped as she moved away from him.

  That was one word for it. He wrenched his thoughts away from the sensual effect she had on him to the task at hand. The space they were in was warm and humid and smelled of mold. The only sound was that of rain on a leaking roof over their heads. “Where are we?” he asked.

  She shuffled around somewhere to his left. “Someplace safe. For now.”

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he made out the faint outline of a window. They were in a small structure, a cabin maybe. The woman leaned over a rickety table. Her movements were sharp and jerky. Angry. The clink of glass, and a light burst forth from an ancient lantern. They stood in what was left of a small kitchen, the windows long since blown out. She replaced the cover over the flame and crossed her arms as she turned to face him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  Balastar crossed his own arms. “Saved your life?”

  “Pfft. How do you figure?”

  “If I hadn’t stuffed you down that chute, chances are you’d be dead now.”

  A blast of fear radiated out of her at the memory. Her hair fluctuated from blue to yellow. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  Water dripped on his shoulder from a leak above so he took a few steps closer to her. “What were you doing there?”

  “That’s none of your business.” She paced restlessly in the small space. “What were you doing there?”

  “I’m fairly certain I was looking for you.”

  She brought up her right hand and reached into her shirt. She appeared to be cupping her left breast.

  Balastar froze when he realized her true intent.

  She withdrew a small gun and aimed it at his chest. The laser was tiny but deadly. Her aim was steady, confident. “Explain yourself.”

  He raised his hands. Shit.
He should be more concerned, but he couldn’t quite get the image of her hand on one of those ample breasts out of his head. He gave himself a mental kick. “I’ve been looking for those boxes. Or at least the kind of psi signature they radiate.”

  “Yeah? Well you cost me dearly back there.”

  “I can compensate you for any losses.” He needed her to calm down.

  “That right?” She held out the black device. “You gonna buy me five of these? Cuz that’s what I had stashed in that building.”

  “You’re the one I was looking for, all right.” Balastar sensed her frustration and didn’t want to anger her. She might hold the answers to the mystery he and the Cavacent clan were investigating. If he spooked her, she could leave him here and he’d be back to square one. “It’s okay. I’m on your side.” He kept his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

  “How do you know what side I’m on?”

  “Let’s just say there’s no love lost between me and the Torogs.”

  “That’s not saying much.” She blew out a breath. She was nervous, constantly moving and checking her com. “I don’t know what you were doing in that building, but you should leave. The Torogs will find me eventually, and I’ll need to move again.”

  “I know. They’ll find you the same way I did. You and those devices have a different kind of psi. Unique from the rest of the galaxy.”

  “Score one for fancy pants. You won’t be able to use these.” She indicated another unit on the table.

  Portals could be created between two of the devices, but only if you had the right kind of psi—a type no one knew existed until a few months ago. “I am aware of that as well. Look, I can get you off Florin 5 and away from the Torogs.”

  “How?”

  “I have a ship.”

  She mumbled something under her breath and checked her com again.

  “Pardon? I missed that.” Balastar asked, slowly lowering his hands.

  “I said I have my own ship.” She chewed her lower lip. “I just can’t find it right now.”

  Balastar held back a laugh. He knew enough about her already to know that would anger her. “Let me help you. We’ll get you out of here and find your ship.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “I’m supposed to trust a total stranger? Not likely.”

  “You have my word I will do you no harm.”

  “Your word? What are you, some kind of royalty?” She tilted her head and scanned him from head to toe. “You look more like a fancy pirate to me.”

  She wasn’t far off the mark. He’d found Earth’s swashbuckling pirate lore intriguing and fashioned his attire after it. “I’m the captain of a transport ship, my own ship, and my word is my honor.”

  “Since when does being a captain have anything to do with honor?” She eyed him suspiciously. “What’s your name, flyboy?”

  There was a chance she’d recognize his name, but he didn’t want to risk lying to her. “Balastar Alder.” There was no flicker of recognition, which was good. As a former councilman of the now fallen empire, people frequently misjudged him. “You do want to get away from the Torogs, don’t you?”

  “What I want is to get the rest of my spatial distorters back and find my ship.”

  “Is that what they’re called?” He had to laugh. “A friend of mine was calling them ‘Bob’ for a while.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “Bob? Seriously?”

  He shrugged. “We knew what they could do, but not precisely what they were.”

  “We usually just say distorters.” She paused a few beats and glared at him sideways. “Why do you want to help me?”

  He wasn’t sure how much he should tell her.

  “There it is, right there.” She pointed her finger at him.

  “What?”

  “You’re not answering me. That your honor holding your tongue?”

  Balastar ran a hand through his hair. “Fair enough. Look, some friends of mine are trying to figure out where those things are coming from.”

  “Why? Like I said, they won’t do you any good.”

  “Three of my friends can use them.”

  She studied his face. “And they don’t know where the distorters come from?”

  “Correct.”

  “Do they even know where they come from?”

  “Armond is an orphan and doesn’t know, but Mara and Dani are from Earth.”

  Her eyes widened, and she made a dismissive sound.

  She’s heard of Earth.

  “If they can use these, they’re not from Earth. You’re lying.”

  “I don’t lie.” He ground his teeth.

  “Pretty sure you do.”

  He wanted to argue the point, but decided against it. He needed her cooperation. “Let me show you why I tracked you down.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his com.

  She raised the gun to his head.

  “Easy, it’s only my com. I’d like to show you a vid. That’s all.”

  “Go ahead.” She kept the gun aimed at him.

  Balastar found the vid and projected the scene he’d watched a dozen times. The light illuminated the small cabin. It was in worse shape than he’d thought. Missing boards left gaping holes in the walls, and they stood under the only ceiling that remained. He activated the feed with his psi. The video was taken from the rear of a grungy vendor’s stall with the back of a small Vertan’s head bobbing at the bottom of the image. In front of tables that held an array of items for sale, three people, visible only from the waist down at first, walked past. They halted as Torogs approached from left and right, their pasty gray bodies and ball-jointed knees moving in a bizarre fashion. He’d never been close to one, but he knew they stank like rotting meat. They closed in, cornering the people between the stall and a building across from it. In full view now, the vid showed the woman who was with him here, the streak in her hair a bright yellow, along with a good-looking couple, probably in their mid-fifties. A Torog grabbed her arm and yanked her off her feet. She spun mid-air and kicked out, her boot smashing into the side of the Torog’s head. It released her with a screeching sound, and she blinked out of the image. The other Torogs quickly apprehended the couple, binding their wrists before they shoved them out of the picture.

  “How the frack did you get that?” Her voice wavered.

  “I was here a few weeks ago with some of the friends I mentioned. They purchased one of those devices for next to nothing from that vendor. I tracked him down when I returned and persuaded him to give me a copy of this. I’ve been trying to find you ever since.”

  She stepped back, her laser still aimed at him.

  He kept his hands up. “Okay, that made me sound like some kind of stalker. I’m not. I simply want to help.”

  Something was churning in that head of hers. She looked conflicted.

  He was tempted to brush his psi against hers, try to get a reading, but he didn’t want to piss her off with the breach of privacy. He’d already done it once in the laundry chute, and she had a decidedly distracting effect on him.

  The streak in her hair was a glistening black, and something wet trailed down her cheek. Whether from a stray drop of rain or tears he couldn’t tell. “Gods, I couldn’t get to them.” She wiped her face. “We messed up. They should have had a distorter with them. We were trying to protect the devices. Now we’ve lost five units, and Brie and Thomas are gone.”

  “Is that the couple in the vid?”

  “Yes.” Her distress was genuine.

  “Let me help you.”

  ***

  Kit Durnar chewed her bottom lip. She didn’t believe in coincidence so much as signs. Flyboy here was from Earth. The very planet the couple had paid to get to. She felt horrible about them. They’d known the risks, of course, but if they’d only had distorters of their own or stayed on the Tiger… Guilt gnawed at her. It didn’t matter. Not now. She couldn’t change the past. She needed to focus and pay attention to the signs. She’d been playing cat and mou
se with the Torogs for weeks, and they’d called in reinforcements. Corvak wasn’t responding to any calls, which meant something bad had happened or he was interstellar. Taking the Tiger to safety was protocol. Her protocol. Since passing the two week mark yesterday, it was time to get to the rendezvous point. Which meant she needed to get off Florin 5.

  She appraised the man before her. He truly did look like a clean-cut pirate. Tight pants covered muscled legs in knee-high boots. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and the hint of a muscular chest was hot. He was damned good looking. He had sky blue eyes, surprisingly similar to those that were common for people from a mountain region on her home world. His psi was different, though. She took in his clothes and bearing. If she had to guess, she’d say he was rich. And cultured. The man reeked of class, which meant nothing in terms of his being trustworthy. A strand of disheveled blond hair fell across his forehead.

  She shouldn’t have told him so much. But then he had the vid. All she’d really given away were some names. And, yeah, she needed to get off this rock. Florin 5 was a busy trade planet with a split personality. The haves had it all and the have-nots lived in squalor in abandoned hell-holes like the one the Torog’s just blasted them out of. She thought back to that damn laundry chute, to when he’d used his psi to free her. That had been an intense connection. She replayed it in her mind. Aside from feeling freakishly good, she hadn’t sensed anything dark or duplicitous in him. Then again, he could just be really good at bullshitting. “Why should I trust you? You could be a slaver for all I know.”

  “You’re right. I could be, but I’m not.”

  Kit sucked in her cheek and bit down harder. The way he talked and held himself smacked of money and power. He said the ship was his. Not many people piloted their own ships, and those that did tended to be a lot tougher than the man in front of her. Something about him didn’t add up. She cursed and stepped sideways as water penetrated the old sagging roof of the shack. Frack. He was probably her best bet for getting out of here.