by Reagan Woods
Peachy skin shimmered tantalizingly. A curse fell from her lips, and he realized she struggled beneath the foil.
“Wait.” Bram hurried to help her sit up. He caught the blanket before it could fall around her hips and secured it under her arms, knotting it behind her.
“Th-thank you,” she stuttered as he shifted the mass of her hair over her shoulders.
“Safe,” he reassured, stepping away.
“I – I have to relieve myself.” She was embarrassed, he surmised, captivated by the swift change of her skin color from cream to pink. His people did not change color. On her, it was charming.
Bram lifted her in his arms, cradling her like a child, and deposited her gently inside the door to the small privy. “Need help, call.”
He busied himself tidying his work area, thoughts dark. Would the Lyaran males swoop in and claim her now that the female was awake and on the mend? They’d be mad not to. In a universe populated with many races of strong males, females were rare. This one was utter perfection with her soft curves and alluring looks.
His fist clenched around the multitool in his hand, blood welling up where it dug in to his skin. There was nothing he could – would - do if they did. Fighting for his life was one thing, killing over a female who couldn’t want him would be stupid.
The door to the water closet whispered open. Bram forced his muscles to relax. He set the tool aside.
“Are you alright?” She was closer than he realized, and her soft voice startled him. A scowl on his face, he turned to her. “You’re bleeding.”
Mute, he stood stock still as she cradled his bleeding palm in her soft hands. “I think you need a bandage.”
It was the first time a female had touched him voluntarily, aside from his mother. A touch didn’t equal affection, he knew that. The feel of her skin on his was decadent, nonetheless.
“Fine.” He pulled away. “You -,” he cleared his throat to try again. “You walk – er - much. No good.”
Velvety red lips rolled into a thin, unhappy line. “Yet, if I don’t get well soon, I’m certain our captors will find a reason to push me out an airlock. We both know a slave is no good if she’s not in salable condition.”
Bram bit the tip of his tongue. He wanted to assure her he would never allow that, but he didn’t want to make promises. Instead, he asked, “What name?”
“Lacy.” She made a chopping motion with her right hand and pinned him with her blue gaze. “Aren’t you going to shake my hand?”
Hesitantly, he clasped her small hand in his and pumped it up and down once in a customary Earth greeting. When he would have withdrawn, she gripped tighter and brought her other hand to cover the back of his.
“What’s going to happen now?” Lacy’s words were pitched low, her small face pinched with worry. She was injured and clearly felt every break and bruise, but she was on her feet, asking for the truth.
He admired the courage it took to simply ask such a question. She had to know nothing he told her would be good.
Bram wasn’t sure what to say, but he had to come up with something. She wouldn’t like to hear that she’d been promised to him as a reward of sorts. He was most unworthy to protect a female. It was a cowardly relief he felt when the door to the med bay hissed open to admit Zocan and Lyon.
Chapter Five
Before, when Lacy thought of golden skin, she’d thought of someone with Asian blood from Earth. The aliens that prowled into the room completely turned that notion on its head. The two weren’t just golden skinned, their hair and eyes were palest champagne and shimmery yellow, too. It was both strikingly beautiful and shockingly unexpected.
Both stood well over six feet and were built with a kind of feral leanness she’d seen in educational videos of prowling cats – before she’d dropped out of the state mandated schools and ran to the Outside. Broad shoulders tapered into narrow waists, and their shimmery gray suits displayed muscled physiques in full detail. That was a lot of body confidence.
One spoke, the harsh staccato of Corian Standard met her ears, but, once again, she understood nothing. On Earth, the aliens had put her in the reconditioner each day, but, while many of the other women had learned Corian Standard, Lacy had learned Doranese. She didn’t use it to speak with Bram because, frankly, she didn’t want him to know she could understand him.
She really needed a friend right now, but Bram couldn’t be trusted. None of the aliens were trustworthy. Which sucked because these new guys made her squirm with discomfort. Yellow eyes bored into her as they slinked closer, splitting apart to circle around her like hunting pack animals. Nervously, she stepped closer to Bram, still holding his hand in a death grip.
He spoke quietly to the long-haired male, casually pulling her into his body so she stood with her back to his front. His big hands spanned her ribcage, resting just beneath the swell of her breasts. The silvery blanket he’d tied around her wasn’t much of a barrier between them, and she knew he would feel her heart galloping beneath his fingers. Normally, she wouldn’t allow any alien this close to her, but, in this case, better the devil she knew.
The snapping, growling conversation carried on around her. Lacy hated being left out, especially when it was obvious she was the topic of discussion.
“What are they saying?” She asked Bram urgently. Resting her hands over his, she tilted her head back against his chest and looked up to catch his gaze.
Jaw clenched, his pink eyes met hers, fingers tightening subtly on her ribs. “Much hair, Zocan. This his ship. His mate Lyon.”
The two must have recognized their names as they moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder in front of her. She didn’t understand the significance of the term ‘mate’. Perhaps it meant friends? It couldn’t be that they were married, their stares were carnally appraising, openly interested. Frowning, Lacy stared back, sending ‘don’t touch me’ signals with everything she had.
“Pirates,” Bram continued. “Save us. Commander here, but he – er – leave. Take their female, not pay.”
Lacy sucked in an alarmed breath. The Commander had left with the female these two, what, owned? And without paying – what – for the female? A ransom? How were they still alive? Either way, the pirates of old Earth lore would have forced her and the big Doranos to walk the plank rather than keep them alive. “Fuck.”
Though, from what she’d gathered, there weren’t a lot of women – er – females in the universe. What few there were, were coveted and held as possessions. Another guy coming in and stealing a female from these pirates was a huge offense. Hopefully, they weren’t looking at her as a replacement model. She liked a little kink in her life, but those two alien men looked like too much for her to handle.
“Not so bad,” Bram reassured. “They angry. But I work, pay debt.”
“The debt for your commander, the debt for you or the debt for me?” she asked, skeptically. The CORANOS invaders never did anything out of the goodness of their hearts – if they even had hearts. It wouldn’t surprise her at all to learn that he was telling her to relax because he had a sure way out. For himself.
“Is…complicated.” She just bet it was. No matter what Bram said, she couldn’t envision trusting him with her safety.
Lyon, with his spiky, pale hair, chose that moment to push forward. He inhaled deeply in her direction and growled a series of words at Bram. If he was going for creepy, bravo! He nailed it. No one wanted to be sniffed by a stranger.
“Lacy,” Bram’s tone was chiding. “Calm.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” she hissed. “He’s not looking at you like he’s starving and you’re a four-course meal.”
“Think you beautiful,” Bram explained as if it were a compliment.
“That does not make me feel better,” she squeaked, lowering her eyes to the dull metal floor. Men like that, forward and openly sexual, believed they could have whatever they wanted. Not from her. Not anymore. “What do they want?” Surreptitiously, she watched Lyon from
beneath her lashes, keeping a wary eye out for any sudden movements.
Bram said something, and the blonde backed away. Zocan came forward and put a restraining – or maybe comforting – hand on Lyon’s shoulder. After a quick, shallow bow, the two males exited.
She slumped against Bram when the door slid shut behind them. The excitement of meeting the strangers was too much for her still healing body. “I need to sit.”
“You awake, they give room,” Bram said, scooping her up in a swift movement.
Lacy looked around a little dazedly. She’d barely taken in her surroundings since waking and now they were going someplace else?
“I can walk,” she insisted nervously, attempting to stiff-arm him and put some distance between them.
Ignoring her, he turned to grab something from the counter, a small, pencil sized tube, and made for the door.
“Please put me down.” Lacy didn’t feel well, but she knew letting him manhandle her would create problems down the road. None of the snowy white aliens took rejection well.
“I carry you to room,” he insisted implacably.
“Wait,” she squirmed against his hold until she was panting with exhaustion. “Just one room? For both of us?” That could be good since she wouldn’t be left alone and vulnerable, but it could also be bad. Could she really trust the brutish alien tracker? Apparently, it was her day to find out.
He nodded mutely before striding out into a frigid, cavernous darkness. She wanted to hold herself apart from him, but the cold sank vicious teeth into her weary frame. Instinct had her burrowing against his broad chest as he carried her along some sort of metal catwalk. The further they went, the more she shivered.
Dim lights hung like fireflies in the distance. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Lacy realized they were either in the belly of a ship or some weird warehouse. The walkway they were on ringed an egg-shaped emptiness, barely illuminated by footlights. Limp nets hung from metal bars, probably put there to keep the nonexistent cargo in the hold.
Bram’s breath fogged the air next to her head, his big hand cupped her head to urge her face into his neck. “Warm.”
Teeth chattering, Lacy snuggled closer, and, he was right, it was a little warmer. His skin was surprisingly soft even with the slight stubble along the strong pillar of his neck. And his scent – it was thick and fragrant with musk, but clean, without the chemical-y smell men on Earth carried.
“They just let prisoners roam freely?” She asked skeptically. It seemed more likely that Bram was working with these pirates. They certainly weren’t treating him like a hostage or stowaway. But why lie about it? It’s not like she could do anything one way or the other. Maybe he was just a psycho who enjoyed lulling women into a false sense of security before hurting them.
Ignoring her question, he palmed a metal rectangle at his shoulder height on the wall. “Sleep here.”
The pocket door slid back to reveal a small room. A bed, or sleep surface as the aliens referred to them, dominated the cramped space. A clear tube stood in one corner and another housed the oval entrance to the water closet.
Gently, Bram deposited her on the mattress. “Time food, heal.”
“What?” He wasn’t making any sense. She frowned, rolling gingerly to sit on the edge of the bed. “Are you going to answer any of my questions? What’s going on here?”
He pulled the silver pencil from one of his many pockets and held it up for her perusal. “This heal. Slow, but work.”
Of the questions she’d peppered him with, he answered the most innocuous. If he thought he was getting away with that, he was mistaken. Lacy Callaghan was not a pushover, and she knew he understood her.
It was time to establish some boundaries. Holding out her hand, she eyed him sternly. “Give it over. I’ll do it myself.”
Lips twisting, he placed the wand in her palm. It was heavy and still warm from being near his body. “How do I turn it on?”
“You no.” His face hardened in stubborn lines. “I.”
She was tired, but she wasn’t letting this go without a fight. “Listen, I don’t know you, and I sure don’t trust you. So, why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
Chapter Six
“She’s beautiful, unique,” Lyon growled to Zocan before they had taken two steps onto the command deck. They were alone, and, unsurprisingly, having the same, tired argument.
The subject, this time, was the little female they’d handed into the Doranos Warrior, Bram’s, care in exchange for his assistance outwitting the CGA assassin. “That she is,” Zocan agreed mildly.
Lyon was fairly bristling for a fight over Zocan’s decision. Of course, he would never allow his vaunted self-control to snap. Zocan couldn’t help wondering if he regretted vetoing Lara, their former female crew person, as a potential mate. It was too late now. According to Ssszit, their resident Tixerian psychic, Lara wouldn’t be returning to life as a pirate. Her fate was on a divergent path. Whatever the hell that meant.
The Goddess knew Zocan, too, wished to complete their trinepact, the traditional Lyaran triad consisting of one female and her two devoted males. Though he was less outspoken about his need than Lyon, his desire ran just as deep.
It was a hopeless compulsion. Hash-Han, the VENTIX Emperor, had murdered most of the Lyaran people when he’d unleased the Destroyers on Lyara. The emperor had wanted the king’s lyridi mines, and he’d tried to take them by force. What Hash-Han didn’t know was that the mines were not located on-planet. Billions had died for his blind greed, and, now, there simply weren’t any un-mated Lyaran females left.
The Galaxy Corps, Zocan’s legion to command, had been off-planet for training when the VENTIX struck. Thankfully, many of his soldiers had brought their mates along for the annual war games. Zocan took solace in the fact that, Goddess-willing, one day there would be a settlement of Lyarans again. He just had to find a safe place for them to alight. In the meantime, his Galaxy Corps were scattered amongst the stars, keeping the lowest possible profile.
“She’s a beautiful female,” Zocan shrugged, turning back to his star charts. “But we cannot protect her while dodging the CORANOS hunter. If the timing was better, we could, perhaps, persuade her to stay with us.”
“You’re still angry that I didn’t want Lara,” Lyon stated, taking a seat at the holographic navigation station next to Zocan. “That’s what has been eating at you, isn’t it?” He leaned in and turned Zocan’s face toward him with a gentle hand, forcing intimate eye contact. “That we were in such close quarters for so long, even came to love her, in some ways, but I didn’t want her?”
“I loved Lara like a sister, or, perhaps, like a daughter,” Zocan admitted softly. “But she was compatible with us.”
“Do you think I was selfish to want more? To want to love our female mate as I love you?” Lyon asked.
Zocan knew the question left his fierce mate feeling naked, emotionally vulnerable. He didn’t want to hurt his love, and he wished he didn’t have to disappoint him in this. However, the bargain was struck with the Doranos. Zocan wouldn’t go back on his word. Plus, too much depended on his scheme playing out.
“I don’t think it was selfish, no,” Zocan chose his words carefully, resting his hand over the back of Lyon’s, turning to press a kiss to his palm. “Why? Are you drawn to her?”
Ruefully, Lyon grimaced. “She’s attractive and here. Lara was decidedly too young when she came to us. And too innocent for my tastes, frankly.”
“That opportunity is lost, and, unfortunately, so is this one,” Zocan said firmly. “We can’t protect a female as I would wish to. I know it is maddening, the constant urge to complete our bond, but she cannot be ours any more than Lara could have been.”
“You are all I need,” Lyon declared softly, lacing their fingers together and bringing them to rest on his broad chest. “My heart is full, but, you’re correct, the biological urge to complete the trinepact is like a fire in my blood.”
“
Before the worry and uncertainty of the renegade wormhole, you were on edge, Lyon. For many, many cycles. Nothing I did or said could reach you.”
Lyon smiled, showing dimples that were too rarely seen. “I, too, ache to have this business over and done with, to rejoin our people and rebuild our world,” the bright white of his smile faded. “But I want the VENTIX to pay. I need Hash-Han to suffer as we have suffered. Sometimes, I wonder if vengeance will ever be within our grasp. The uncertainty makes me crazy.”
“Ssszit says yes.” Zocan tried to keep his voice positive, his demeanor hopeful, but it wasn’t easy. It had been many years since they’d enacted their scheme; pirating Hash-Han’s own goods and selling them to keep their small number of Lyarans alive and secure. He was weary.
Now, with the added problem of avoiding the CORANOS assassin, sheer exhaustion weighted his every thought. As soon as they got to Xani, the little-known space station on the edge of the Dead Zone, they could send Ssszit and the Doranos their separate ways. Perhaps he and Lyon could lay low on a fringe world until all this blew over. It would be heavenly to reconnect with his mate without so many worries pressing in.
“What in the goddesses’ creation is she, anyway?” Lyon asked, lightening the mood.
“I don’t know if I want to know. The Warrior speaks her language. Her kind are clearly known to him. We should probably talk with Ssszit,” Zocan decided. “He might know where she came from. Besides, he’s the one who insisted we rescue them.”
Blond brows lowering over his pale, yellow eyes, Lyon frowned. “He also encouraged us to ransom Commander Vank. Look where that got us. Now, there’s an assassin tailing us.”
“We three have much to discuss,” Zocan agreed, not wanting to speculate on Ssszit’s motives. The three of them were old friends, but Ssszit rarely disclosed everything he knew. As a precognitive psychic, the Tixerian believed his words had the power to change the future.