Had he been schooled in the catacombs of Scotland, too? Only an intimate could block such a screening. She didn't recall him. She probed deeper. He must be an intimate. There were only a dozen of them, she being one, yet how had he come to be a traitor? She pushed the thoughts from her mind and focused harder, probing deeper. Not an intimate. She sensed a different energy. Something new to her. So what was he? A rogue? A lone practitioner? She closed her eyes and concentrated on manifesting a visual of him.

Blond hair, tall, muscular, a handsome face with a lopsided devilish grin, a typical trooper. What else was there? Lilac eyes! She gasped and opened her eyes.

"What is it?" Abber whispered.

"He's not human."

"What?" Concern tightened Abber's voice.

"He's not human, Abber. I don't know what he is. But he's not human."

"Are you saying we have a new alien enemy, besides the Demrons?" Panic edged his voice, matching the nervous pitch in her stomach.

"So it appears."

"Oh shit. Excuse me, Commander, what I meant, was, well, damn, this is just great. We'll be going in at a greater disadvantage. We know nothing about this new enemy," he whispered, straining to contain his fear.

"We're going through with this, Abber. We can do it. They appear to be asleep. Signal for the troops to move up," she ordered, steadying her laser on the sleeping reptiles. "And remember, the non-reptile is to be captured."

"Aye, Commander." Abber turned and signaled the troops with a laser flash. "I hope he's not more formidable than the reps."

"He won't be," she assured the youth as they waited for the troops to join them. She lay on the ground, watching the fire flicker shadows over the blond man. It had been a long time since she'd enjoyed summer nights like this one sprawled out on a lounge chair in front of the fire of her outside living room. She'd always brought leftovers from her restaurant for late evening meals with her husband. He'd light the outside fireplace and they'd spend a romantic night underneath the stars, eating, sipping wine and planning their future.

After the leisurely meal, they'd lie in the bed swing, make love then hold each other, sharing the day's events, staring up at the stars, talking about the family they would have one day. Shalene swallowed the burning in her throat and pushed back the tears. It had been just such a night when the first strike had hit. She closed her eyes against the bitter memory. Fifteen years and it still felt like yesterday—sometimes.

"All troops in place, Commander. We're good to go."

She dragged herself from the vivid memories and stared into the bleak present. It had been a different life and she'd been a different person.

"Guns set to kill," she spoke into the mic with her voice tightening around the memory's residue. "Remember, the non-rep is to be captured," she reminded and gave each trooper a glance. She was bestowed a nod of understanding. With her hand, she motioned for the troops to spread out and encircle the campsite. Once assured everyone was in position, she signaled the attack.

The sleeping reptiles were slow to react to the laser blasts, but Mecah was on his feet and firing at the attackers, deliberately missing his marks. He watched Bog take a blast in the chest and fall hard on his back. His long scaly tail writhed in the sand then was still.

"Hands up! Drop your weapon. Down on your knees." The woman, dressed in tight leather pants and short bustier covered with a desert-camouflaged military vest, aimed a laser pistol at him.

His gaze traveled from the bluish beam back to the woman. She unstrapped the helmet and jerked it off. Long silky hair tumbled down her back in a long wavy flow, reminding him of a rush of dark water freed from a damn. Tossing the scarred, dull helmet to the soldier standing behind her, she took determined strides across the camp toward him, all the while keeping the laser aimed on his chest.

The moon emerged from the clouds and bathed her in silvery streams of light, highlighting her curly dark hair in shimmering flickers. Her oval face was smudged with camouflage grease and her knee-length boots were scuffed and dusty. Her upper arms, exposed by the vest, flexed as she steadied the weapon on him. Sculpted, feminine muscled arms indicated a trained and disciplined body, and beneath, governed by an equally trained mind.

Overall, she gave the appearance of a capable soldier, yet one thing contradicted the illusion and intrigued him—her aura. Unlike other human soldiers whose auras were usually a mixture of reds and oranges and in some cases blacks and grays, hers was a myriad of colors without the typical dominating hue, giving a rainbow effect of colorful shards that emanated from her.

Her oval face was set in a stern, almost angry expression, with large brown eyes reflecting a coldness that again contradicted her aura of a spiritually evolved being who knew the secrets of the universe.

"What are you grinning at?" she sneered, stopping in front of him. "What's your name?" She lowered the weapon so it was at her hip level and pointed at him. Still kneeling, Mecah looked up into her dark eyes. The air stirred electric and when she moved closer, her aura merged with his.

Encased in her essence, his probing was immediately shoved aside as her barrier walls rose to block him. He pressed harder and his appreciation quickened when he crashed through her shield and found the truth he saw reflecting deep in her soul. Desire surged through his body, responding to her on the basest level while simultaneously connecting on the deepest of all spiritual levels that only Kismet mates could attain. How could it be? How could this alien be his Kismet? His breathing quickened. Dare he believe? It was against all Kyronian laws, but the sensation was undeniable. He'd waited for it his entire life and there she stood in front of him—his Kismet mate.

He slipped past her hatred and found recognition. The same recognition now reflecting in her liquid chocolate eyes. His heart was a staccato beat. She knew they were kindred spirits, too. What would she do now that she, too, knew? In spite of his attempt to control his thoughts, Mecah couldn't help wondering about her. How could it be that he had to travel millions of light-years from his home to find his Kismet mate? The irony was too much and he released the welling emotions in a laugh.

"You find this humorous?" she asked, reinforcing her persona, bolstering her energy against his probing.