Destin's Hold (The Alliance #5)(22)

“Once the Earth is healed,” he whispered, thinking of all the work in progress.

He would be damned if he’d let another alien species tear up what he had fought so hard for and had sacrificed a part of his soul to achieve. Not that the humans hadn’t done a pretty good job of destroying the earth before the aliens arrived. Still, they’d certainly had plenty of violence left in them for the next seven years of massive fighting. The humans had fought both the aliens and each other with a viciousness born from their tribal origins, seeking to conquer and retain what limited resources they could find instead of joining forces. In many ways, that had helped the aliens win control, and once the humans were in hand, the walls between each human faction were broken down and they were forced to work together – for the most part. There were still battles left on Earth. Nothing could change human nature, after all.

For a brief moment he wondered if the fighting would ever end before he pushed away the negative, depressing thought. He didn’t have the time, the patience, or the luxury to dwell on the what-if’s. Still, he couldn’t quite stop himself from thinking ‘what if’ he had a beautiful, fiery, blue-skinned woman standing beside him? That was one what-if he would hold on to and tuck away for the long, lonely nights ahead of him.



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Several hours later, Destin was gripping the bar next to the seat on the shuttle, trying to ignore Trig’s grin. He was seriously thinking of putting the heel of his boot in the Trivator’s mouth, but at the moment they were too firmly planted on the metal floor. He’d have to wait until they were on the ship. If they had a workout room, he’d give the grinning bastard a run for his money.

“Not much of a flyer, are you?” Trig asked over the noise of the engines.

“Yeah, at least not going into space,” Destin replied through gritted teeth. “I like flying, but not in space.”

“Your planet does not have space travel?” Trig asked.

Destin glanced at the other man and shook his head. “We have it, but not like this. Well, sort of like this,” he tried to explain before relaxing his grip when the shuttle quit violently vibrating. They had broken through the atmosphere. “We had spaceships, but they just went to the moon and back or around the planet. Nothing like this. You guys are going up and down into space more like what our airplanes did from city to city. I’ve only been on a plane once and that wasn’t until I was in college. I’ve always liked having my feet on the ground.”

“Jordan told me a little about your world. It was not a good place for her. Though, ours has not been much better, it would appear,” Trig muttered, glancing at several warriors when they unstrapped and began checking on the cargo they were bringing up. Destin and he were flying up on the last shuttle before the Star Raider departed. “This will be my first trip to your world. It will be interesting to see what it looks like.”

Destin relaxed back against the seat and studied Trig’s face. The other man’s expression was calm, but there was an intense air surrounding him, almost like a storm building. Destin had learned at a young age how to read a person. The Trivators were more difficult, but not completely impossible. The nagging feeling that there was something else going on continued to bother him, like an itch you couldn’t quite reach.

“What aren’t you guys telling me? I know about the Waxians and the Drethulans and their plans to attack Earth. But I can’t help but get the impression there is more to the story,” Destin said, watching Trig’s expression close and harden into an indifferent mask.

Trig glanced at him, holding his gaze as if contemplating what he was about to say. Destin waited. He saw the brief flicker in Trig’s gaze before the other man looked away and knew that he wouldn’t get all the answers to his questions. What Trig said next, though, would help seal the Trivator’s fate. If Trig tried to bullshit him, Destin would make sure the Trivator had limited access to anything going on. Trust was a delicate thread, especially when your life was connected to it. Destin was very, very careful who he allowed to hold it. Trig finally sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. The intense expression was back, but so was the caution – and a small measure of regret.

“Whether you like it or not, you are stuck with me,” Trig stated in a hard tone. “There are reasons I’ve been assigned to you. There are also reasons why I can’t tell you certain things.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Destin asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion at the cryptic statements.

“Both,” Trig retorted with a slight grin. “The first is an order, the second just to piss you off and keep you on your toes, as Jordan would say.”

“So, what can you tell me?” Destin asked with a raised eyebrow.

The grin on Trig’s lips widened and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “That I’m glad I’m not you,” he replied, sitting back when the shuttle changed directions and the warriors returned to their seats.

Destin shook his head in disgust, but felt his gut relax when he heard the truth in the other man’s voice and saw it in his eyes. “That tells me exactly nothing,” he muttered, gripping the bar again and leaning his head back against the hull.

“I know,” Trig replied, crossing his arms across his chest.