Page 14 of Guardian’s Heart (Space Guardian’s Mate #1)

NOVA

I watched him vanish between the bushes and leaned back against the tree to digest everything that had just happened. I stared at the intricately woven lines on my arm, and yes, when I moved the cloak to the side, my hips and side were tattooed as well. They weren’t raised or sore. After the initial pain—which had been bad—they were just part of me now, like a tattoo. And as far as tattoos went, it could have been worse. They reminded me of those tribal marks that had been all the rage before shit hit the fan. I might have even chosen something similar myself.

Still, the way they were sensitive to his touch was unnerving. That and the fact that we both had suddenly matching lines on our bodies. That part did freak me out some. With that, my thoughts returned to him . I sighed. It wasn’t my first time wrangling in the sheets with a stranger, but Zaarek wasn’t just a stranger, was he? He was an alien, first off. Secondly, he bought me at an auction. Bought me ! And if that wasn’t enough, he had stalked me through a forest. Alright, so he promised to take me to safety, whatever that meant, but could I trust him?

A little late to ask, isn't it ? Missy's snarky voice popped into my head.

Probably , I admitted.

Still, that had been the most exciting sex of my entire life. It was a good thing that I had a bar in my arm to prevent unwanted pregnancies. Could an alien make me pregnant?

That wasn't what was unsettling me so much either though. No, what unsettled me the most was my initial reaction to him. The way I had needed to be fucked by him. Sure, I had scratched an itch before, so to speak, but whatever it was that had drawn me to him had been so much more than a mere itch . It had been like a frenzy driving me. As if my life had depended on him fucking me. And that was something I really needed to mull over.

I had no clue how to mull this over, though. Aside from him using some kind of aphrodisiac on me, I was all out of ideas. I could have considered that there might have been some kind of aphrodisiac in the air or plants because he had seemed as eager as me. I realized that men usually had a stronger sex urge, and what did I know about aliens? Zero, zilch, nada, other than that they liked to kill and capture humans… anyway! As little as I knew him, he still seemed driven by the same force as me, and besides, aphrodisiac or not, that still didn't explain the freaking tattoos!

So there I was back to… not having any answers.

I sighed.

Alright, let's analyze something else , my mind suggested.

Fine , I mentally shrugged, let's hear it .

How are we feeling about him ?

Abruptly, I got up. That wasn't something I wanted to think about right then either. Because the feelings I had for him were simply over the top—he had just left to go hunting, and I already felt bereft. So no, that was definitely not something I wanted to analyze or think about right then.

Well, if he was successful in his hunt, and the two hides wrapped around my feet indicated that he was a decent hunter, I better get a fire ready. An idea my rumbling stomach heartedly agreed to.

I added twigs, dried leaves, and moss to my fireplace and went to work with the same trusty piece of bark and twig I had used before. All my confusion and frustration went into rubbing the twig between my palms, resulting in sparks in record time. Holding my hair back, I blew gently at the sparks and soon had a fire going.

Next, I picked a few leaves that would serve as plates, busied myself boiling more water, and even cleaned out and freshened up my little cave. That's when I caught myself. I was acting like a besotted girlfriend readying her place to have dinner with her lover. The last time I did all this for a man didn't work out so well for either of us on accord of him beating me up and now being most likely dead.

I rolled my eyes. Fuck me.

I kicked a rock and hurt my toe, covered only in the fur, and cursed some more.

The most frustrating part was that I didn't know what I wanted, expected, anticipated…

Before Missy, I had always taken one day at a time; each morning had been a new beginning, a new adventure. But then Missy sent me to school, and besides her constant harping on planning my life; math and computer classes taught me the value of planning. You couldn't design a computer game or program without planning, neither could you hack into a database without a plan. So, the last ten years of my life had been spent planning. Well, maybe eight because for the first two, I had pretty much rebelled against Missy, who had taken me away from the only life I had ever known.

It hadn't been exactly Missy's fault that Daddy and Uncle Boone died, but at fourteen, I held her responsible because I couldn't lay blame on Daddy or my uncle. Not only were they dead and gone, but because I had worshipped the two all my life, even when they were mean as a snake.

Their latest enterprise in making meth—not for use, but to get rich—ended in a ball of fire in our camper. The only reason I hadn't been there was because Daddy had told me to check the traps. I liked to think he did so because he knew what he and Boone were doing was dangerous, but most likely, it had only been to get me out of their hair.

Anyway, that's when Missy stepped in.

By all rights, I should have been put into the foster care system, but Missy, a childless widow, decided to take me in when she heard about the drama. Later, I found out that she and Daddy had once been sweethearts and that she, after all these years, still carried a torch for him. It was one of those bad boys meet good girl romances. Anyway, I became her project, and when Missy took on a project, she was like a Pitbull with a bone: she never let go.

My lack of schooling disturbed her so much that for the first two years, she kept me at her house, home-schooling me to get me caught up with the other kids. I hated it. I hated learning; I hated living in her prim house; I hated behaving like a lady, and I hated going shopping with her because the dresses she picked were uncomfortable and impractical.

It wasn't until I entered high school that my rebellious mind turned. Maybe because suddenly I had other enemies besides Missy. The girls at Highland High hated my guts from day one. Never one to say no to a good fight, I fully reciprocated their hate, turning more toward boys as my friends. The problem with that was girls could never be just friends with guys. Every single one of them tried to get into my pants, and a few succeeded—some of them, the wrong kind who loved nothing more than to brag about it.

Suddenly, being at home with Missy wasn't the worst thing in my life any longer.

I thought about running away and living in the swamps, but even my rebellious mind realized that wasn't the greatest idea for a teenage girl. As mean as Daddy and Uncle Boone could get, they had protected me. Nobody in their right mind would have tangled with the Beauvier brothers. But they were gone.

I ended up in the computer room with nothing to do one day during a free class. I had my own laptop at home, of course. I wasn't a dummy with it, either.

But that day, I met Frog. Frog wasn't his real name; his real name was simply unpronounceable to most of us, so he ended up being Frog. Something about how his fingers danced over the keyboard, how his brows knitted in concentration, and how sweat ran down his neck fascinated me. I stepped closer and looked over his shoulder.

It took me a moment to comprehend, but then, "Are these your records?"

"Yap," he said around a No 2 pencil he was biting down on.

"Wow. How did you do that?"

I watched him change an F to an A- and an A into an A+.

"Want me to change yours too?" he asked, after canceling his truancy hours from nine to zero.

I sat down next to him. "Sure."

"Nova, right? Nova Beauvier?"

I nodded and watched in fascination as he changed one of my Bs into an A and so on. I didn't have any truancies—not then—Missy would have taken the leather strap to me, no thanks, Ma'am. After finding out about Frog's ability to simply cancel truancy hours and even days, I changed my behavior and spent my days with him in this room or the basement at his house. I learned how to get fake movie theater tickets—the problem had not been the money; Missy was more than generous with that; the problem had been that I didn't have anybody I cared to go with. Now, with Frog, it was different. He wasn't into girls, or guys, for that matter. Nothing got him sexually interested besides his keyboard and screen. It didn't take long for me to figure out that he came every time he broke through somebody's firewall.

It made sense that we hung out after school. Everybody around us assumed we were boyfriend and girlfriend, which was fine with us. The boys in school irritated me as much as the girls. Their bragging about having had sex with me had been the final straw. I grew up with two men , and these were boys. I was old enough to realize that I wanted a man but was too young to date one that was worth dating. So, our fake relationship worked for us. We went to the movies, he took me to dinner with hacked gift cards, and he taught me my love of computer programs.

He was right; there was nothing more satisfying than breaking through a firewall. Not in a sexual way for me like it was for him, but it was an adrenaline rush like no other.

Missy was all too happy that I had found something I loved doing—blissfully ignorant to the illegal part—and happily upgraded my laptop and bought me all the computer equipment Frog had said I needed. To Missy's disappointment, I refused to go to college, but I made enough money by designing computer programs and a few apps to convince her that I was doing well enough without it. The design work acted as my cover for my more illicit computer skills. I had upgraded from hacking into the school account and gift cards to getting through firewalls. That… got me into hot water with some undesirable characters. They promised not to kill me if I did some work for them, and that's how I ended up in New Orleans when the Cryons came. Oh, and somewhere in between, I met Rhett and thought myself in love. This was the part of my life I liked not to think about or remember.

Frog had, by then, long abandoned ship; happy with breaking into credit card accounts, we parted ways a few years ago. I don't even know what happened to him. He moved two years ago, and we lost touch.

And so, here I was, in an alien forest, waiting for my alien… lover? to bring me some alien meat to roast over a fire. I sighed.

It could be worse. It is as it is, my mind intoned Missy's lessons. Some days, like today, I missed her and hoped that she and Daddy finally had the relationship they had always wanted in heaven. She died unexpectedly a year ago. The doctors found a lump in her neck, and two months later, she was dead. Never woke up from the surgery. The anesthesiologist told me that she whimpered once during the surgery, and he increased her dosage just a smidge. He shook his head, looking young and devastated. "I don't know what happened, Miss, I swear I don’t."

I supposed I could have sued him and the hospital, but it was about the same time as I got in hot water with the mob, and with Missy's death, I just didn't have the whereabouts to handle a long drawn-out lawsuit. Besides, I believed the anesthesiologist when he said, I don't know what happened, I swear I don't . It was as it was. So I moved on.

At least you're safe from the mob here . I snickered.