It’s everything I can do to keep from tearing his head from his shoulders. If he tries to step between me and that hatch—between me and my mate—I’ll have to do it. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” I snarl.
“That’s true. But I’m the only man alive who knows what you’re going through, and I’m your friend. So I would like to understand what happened on Miscellany.” When I only look at him, my lips firmly sealed, he sighs. “I should have sent Dreyer to find you. I should never have left you alone with her. It was just too much for you to resist, wasn’t it? Being cooped up in a room with the woman your beast wants?”
“No. I’m a man of my word, and I stood by it, even when she begged for my cock. I refused, because she was in no position to understand what the beast wanted from her. But then she threatened to go grab some random asshole and take him inside her. And obviously I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Of course not.” The judgement in Sotelo’s gaze fades into a sympathy that abrades me like sandpaper. “No man in our position could. But why would she do that?”
“She thinks Silas won’t have her if she isn’t a virgin.” My words are clipped in anger. In the frustration of denied need. “She was convinced of it, whether or not it’s true. She wanted me to ‘tear’ her. So there could be no doubt.”
“Jesus.”
“I know. I…” I close my eyes and exhale, then I make myself meet his gaze. “I couldn’t let her go out there and take some other man. The beast would have demanded his blood. I had no choice but to give her what she wanted.”
What we both wanted.
“Well, I think the phrase ‘no choice’ is debatable. But what’s done is done. Does she understand what this means?”
“I tried to explain. I’m not sure I’m completely clear about it myself, but I told her before I entered her that the beast already believes she belongs to me, and that if she let me inside her, he would see that as her acceptance of me. Permanently. But no, I’m not sure she entirely understands. I’m not sure anyone could truly understand, without seeing and feeling the things he keeps throwing at me.”
“She will, though. Eventually.” Sotelo sighs again. “So, now we are a crew of eight. And we really need that larger ship.”
“Yes.” I glance at the hatch, fighting an impulse to race up the stairs and shove it open. To lift Grace into one of the bunks and seal it closed behind us.
Sotelo gives me a knowing look. “That will only get worse, until she gets pregnant.”
“She can’t conceive. That’s why she was sold as a concubine. She believes that means she’s unworthy of marriage.”
The captain only shakes his head. “If she couldn’t get pregnant, you wouldn’t be in the grip of the mating fever right now.”
I frown, distracted from the demands of my cock for the first time since the docking bay. “What does that mean?”
“The beast is biologically driven to reproduce. Dr. Brennan’s theory is that because the species our alien genes come from slowly went extinct over thousands of years, the last members born were probably predisposed through natural selection to pass on their genes at any cost.”
“But what does that have to do with Grace? She doesn’t have those genes.”
“Lilli thought she couldn’t get pregnant either. All female prisoners undergo a procedure before they’re sent to Rhodon, so Universal Authority doesn’t wind up with a bunch of babies being raised on a prison planet. But being with me changed her. Physically. She fell into a coma for a couple of days, while her body rewired itself, and when she woke up, she was fertile. ‘Hyper-fertile,’ according to Brennan, and fully immersed in the mating fever. That’s why Doctor Brennan was so interested in her.”
“Oh my god. That’s what Lilli meant, about your ‘alien man seed.’” She’d been ranting about Sotelo’s semen when the rest of us first met her, but as funny as that was, we never got an explanation.
Sotelo’s jaw tightens. “I’m so glad you remember that conversation. But yes. Thanks to the beast’s genetic additions to our biology, contact with our bodily fluids will apparently trigger whatever biological changes are necessary to let the two of you kindle life.”
Holy shit. “You should have told me.”
He huffs. “Until now, that was private information about my sex life, thus it was none of your fucking business. How was I supposed to know we’d find a stowaway, and that your beast would call dibs within seconds of seeing her?”
“Fair enough,” I grumble. “I know this isn’t the best time, not to mention the best place for this, but…Grace and I are going to need some privacy.”
He glances around the small, low-ceilinged space. “You two can have the cargo hold, at least for now. We don’t have a spare mattress, but there are some blankets in the supply crate. But do you think you can keep it in your pants, at least until we figure out where we’re headed? I’m depending on you and Dreyer to work the consoles for us.”
“Yes, of course.”
Sotelo frowns as he studies my face. “If you can’t, just tell me. Trust me when I say that if you try to deny the urge, it will consume you. And you won’t be any use to us if you can’t think straight.”
That’s what happened to him, when Lilli was less than thrilled—at least initially—about the beast’s claim to her. She wouldn’t let Sotelo near her, and he lost his fucking mind.
In fact, he tried to kill me once, convinced I was moving in on his territory.
“I’m fine for now. And I promise we’ll come down here when the necessity arises.”
“Good,” Sotelo says. I turn toward the stairs and reach for the railing, but he clears his throat to recapture my attention. “Coleman, there’s one more thing.”
I turn back to him, but I don’t let go of the railing. I need to be upstairs right now. With Grace. I need to feel her skin against mine. “What?”
“You left Lilli alone on the Dinghy. On Miscellany.”
“I’m sorry, but I had no choice.”
“You left my pregnant mate undefended, on a refueling station full of criminals and sex slavers. If you ever—”
“I told Lilli to close the ramp and call you. I had no other choice. I had to go after Grace, and you know you would have done the same thing. I won’t apologize for putting my mate’s safety first.”
He sighs, and I can see logic battling with a familiar protective rage in his eyes. And finally he runs one hand through his silvery-white curls. “Fine. But Coleman, I depend on you and Dreyer. I rely upon your advice and I need to be able to count on the two of you to take charge when I can’t be there. So why don’t we make that official? I swear to watch over Grace in your absence, and you swear the same for Lilli. Okay?”
“I swear.” I extend my hand, and he grasps my wrist, while I return the gesture. “That makes us family—like brothers—and I will protect your mate as if she were my own.”
“As I will Grace.”
“But don’t ever touch her,” I growl. “Or I’ll have to kill you.”
He actually laughs. “I have no interest in your woman, Coleman. And I know that wasn’t you talking. So if we’re done here, let’s go find Meshach’s fucking cargo, so we can get the ship and get the hell out of this sector.”
GRACE STANDS when she sees me emerge from the cargo hold, and she’s wearing...something different. “Where did that come from?” My gaze is caught on the leather vest, because it’s too tight at her chest, pushing her breasts up and into view. They seem to want to burst right through the buttons of her new white blouse. And I want to let them.
“You don’t like it?” She runs one hand through her long, dark hair, clearly relieved to be rid of the ratty blond wig.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” I pull her close, so she can see how very much I like both her new vest and blouse, as well as the snug brown pants that go with them.
“I think she looks great,” Zamora says.
I growl at him over her shoulder. “I will r
ip your eyes from your skull,” I warn, but he only laughs.
“I got them for her from the bazar,” Dreyer spins in her chair to tell me. “I figured she could use a change of clothes that weren’t chosen to disguise her.”
“You look beautiful,” I tell Grace. Then I turn back to Dreyer. “But I thought we were saving our credits.”
She shrugs. “The purveyor and I haggled for a bit, then he decided that I should just take the clothes and go.” She smiles as she wipes a smear of dried blood from her knuckles. “I offered him a fair price…until he tried to screw me over.”
“Dreyer picked a fight with a vendor, Jamison hustled an idiot at Pickets, and you killed two men,” Sotelo says. “It was a rather eventful fuel stop, without even mentioning the commotion Meshach caused in the middle of the bazar.”
Lilli yawns. “Sorry I missed all the excitement.”
“I’m not.” Sotelo drops a kiss on the top of her head as he takes his seat. “Now that we have food, fuel, and weapons, how are we going to find that cargo?”
“I had an idea about that.” I spin to face my console and start typing. “Meshach didn’t insure his cargo, which means that it probably isn’t something he bought legally. We have the shipping number of the crate, but there’s no description of the cargo, which supports the theory that it isn’t something he’s supposed to have. And, of course, he’s declined to tell us what’s actually in the crate. Which complicates our job, assuming that whoever stole it has removed it from the neatly labeled but incriminating shipping crate.”
“Grace, do you know what’s in the crate?” Lawrence asks.
Grace shakes her head. “I have no idea. They didn’t tell me things like that.” She frowns. “They didn’t tell me much of anything, actually.”
“And you didn’t overhear anything about the cargo?” Dreyer says. “You’re sure?”
She shakes her head again. “Only that it cost Meshach a fortune, and he’ll do anything to get it back.”
Zamora sighs. “So, we have no idea what we’re actually looking for.”
“Exactly. Which is why two different crews have already tried and failed to find Meshach’s cargo. So we’re going to come at it from another angle. We’re going to search for the rest of the cargo that went missing along with Meshach’s crate.”
“Other things went missing?” Grace spins to stare up at my screen.
“Yes. The freighter carrying Meshach’s crate was robbed, and nearly everything it was carrying was taken. And just because he didn’t report his missing cargo doesn’t mean the owners of the other stolen freight didn’t. So what we need to do is identify something else that went missing from that shipment and look for it on the black market. That should lead us straight to the thief. Or at least to whoever sells for the thief.”
“That’s really clever,” Grace says, and the beast puffs up with pride at her quiet praise.
“Let me do some digging…”
I manage to forget about my raging hard-on while I sit at my console, searching for information, and that distraction probably wouldn’t be possible at all, if I couldn’t hear Grace chatting with Lilli right behind me, where I know she’s safe and within easy physical reach.
“Okay.” I point to my screen when I finally have something to show the crew. “I found the cargo manifest the shipping company filed after the robbery. As you can see, Meshach’s crate, as identified by the shipping number, is the only one lacking a description. I’ve done a quick search for several of the other missing crates, and it doesn’t look like any of them have been recovered. Which means that with any luck, whoever stole them will be trying to unload them on the black market.”
Dreyer turns to her console, already typing away. “And if we find the other missing cargo for sale somewhere, there’s a good chance the seller will also have Meshach’s mysterious crate.”
“Or will at least know where it wound up,” I add.
Lawrence stands and comes closer to stare up at the screen built into the wall, which still displays the manifest. “I’m guessing that ammo shipment will be the most in-demand.”
“It will,” I agree. “Which means it’s probably already sold. We want to target something the thief likely hasn’t been able to unload yet.”
“That one.” Sotelo points to the screen. “A crate of refurbished com devices. They’re traceable once they’re activated, so they’ll be harder to offload. The fence will have to wait for a buyer who knows how to wipe them.”
“Agreed,” Dreyer says.
“Okay. Give me another minute...”
This search takes longer, but eventually I find a black market seller who’s broken the com devices up into three batches, each listed for sale. “Found them. And this fence has several other listings that match the freighter’s manifest. I think this is our guy.” Meshach’s crate isn’t listed, but with any luck, the seller will know what happened to it.
“So, how do we draw him out?” Lilli asks.
“We make an offer on something he’s selling.”
“Do it,” Sotelo says.
“That’ll take a little while. I have to establish a fake profile good enough not to spook him.”
“I’ll handle that,” Dreyer offers. “Why don’t you take a break.” But the way her focus slides from me to Grace says she knows sleep isn’t what we need.
“Great,” Sotelo says. “Zamora and Coleman, you’re off duty, so grab something to eat and get some rest. Jamison, you have the flight controls.”
I turn away from my console and offer Grace my hand as she stands. Every beat of my heart tells me to lead her toward the hatch and down the stairs, into what passes for privacy in these tight quarters. But her other needs must come first. “Are you hungry?” I ask. “Tired?” She snuck onboard half a day ago and has had neither a bite to eat nor a second to close her eyes.
“I am a little hungry,” she admits.
I lead her to the small galley, which is really just a sink and some cabinets set into one wall of the main deck. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a food synthesizer, because this shuttle isn’t intended as long-term living quarters. So surplus military rations are all I have to offer.”
“I picked up some more at Miscellany.” Zamora reaches past us to unlatch an overhead cabinet and pull down several brown envelopes. “They had a few of those scarce chicken parmesan dinners, so feel free to claim a couple before they’re gone.”
I snatch the packet from him with a growl. It is my duty and privilege to feed my mate. Not his.
“Sorry.” Zamora takes a packet for himself, then he backs out of the galley with both hands held up, as if to show me he’s unarmed.
Grace gives me a puzzled look. “The beast doesn’t like him?”
“The beast doesn’t like any other man attempting to infringe upon my duties as your mate.”
She looks amused. “And handing me a packet of food is infringing?”
“Well, no. Not on its own,” I admit. “But Zamora is attracted to you, and the beast is worried that if he provides for you, you might see him as my competitor. And then I’ll have to kill him.”
Her smile fades.
“Don’t worry.” Zamora winks at Grace from the chair at my console, where he’s already ripped into his own food packet. “I can more than take care of myself.”
“If you come near her, I’ll—”
“Vaughn.” Grace’s hand lands on my arm, and her touch is like a balm.
Zamora laughs. “Once he knocks you up, he’ll remember that he and I are friends.”
“‘Wise men speak because they have something to say; Fools because they have to say something,’” I growl through clenched teeth.
Jamison spins in the pilot’s chair. “I know that one! Plato!”
He’s wrong, but since the actual source of that quote is a subject of much debate and this isn’t the time, I let Jamison have his victory.
Zamora’s amused gaze finds mine, and the direct eye contact fe
els like a challenge. “Seriously, though, Coleman. If you fuck this up, I will be there waiting to step in.”
I lunge at him, and Grace throws herself in front of me as Dreyer darts in front of Zamora. “Coleman!” she shouts. “Pop quiz. ‘The first human who hurled an insult instead of a stone was the founder of civilization.’ Who said that?”
I frown at Dreyer, fully aware that she’s trying to distract my beast from the violence he wants to unleash. And that it just might work. “That quote is commonly attributed to Sigmund Freud,” I tell her. “But Freud himself attributed it to an unknown English writer.”
Dreyer smiles at me. Then she spins on Zamora and punches him in the shoulder. “Why do you do that? You know he can’t take a joke right now.”
Zamora shrugs. “Who’s joking? How is it fair that he gets to call dibs just because he’s the one who found her in the cargo hold? Maybe my beast thinks Grace and I would be good together, too.” His focus finds her face, and I snarl as I push her behind me. Out of his line of sight.
“I didn’t ‘call dibs,’” I growl at him. “She’s a human being, not the last in a box of fucking donuts.” Not that any of us have seen donuts in years. Or a woman, other than Dreyer and Lilli.
“That’s not what I—” With a huff, Zamora stands and steps past Dreyer, focusing on Grace around my arm. “I’m sorry. That’s not how I meant it. I’m just saying…how do you know Coleman’s the one? You’ve hardly even spoken to anyone else, and—”
“I will rip your head from your body and shit down your neck if you say one more word to her.”
“Classy.” Dreyer turns sideways, one hand extended to hold Zamora back, the other aimed at me, as she looks at Grace around my arm. “He isn’t always like this. Believe it or not, Coleman’s usually the voice of reason around here.”
“Sit...down,” Sotelo growls at Zamora, while the others watch, wide-eyed.
“I’m just asking for a chance, Captain,” Zamora says as he reclaims his seat, his food forgotten on the floor where it fell. “You and Coleman aren’t the only ones UA screwed out of your futures. I love you all like brothers. You know that.” He’s including Dreyer among that brotherhood, despite her ovaries. “But I want more out of life than sleeping alone in a tin can flying through space. I want more than my own hand for company. I want… I want a family, just like the rest of you do. That’s why I served. That’s why we all served. I’m just saying…maybe we all should have a chance to get to know Grace, before she makes a decision.”
Vendetta (Project Vetus Book 2) Page 15