Corsairs: Adiron: Corsair Brothers Book 1

by Dixon, Ruby

  The one standing in front of me, grinning like a loon, is attractive enough. Okay, fine, he's cute. He's got a roguish grin that promises naughtiness and bright eyes. He's built like a pro-wrestler, and his somewhat messy hair tickles at his brow and the curve of his ear instead of staying in place. If I was back on Earth, I'd say this man looks like someone that knows how to have fun.

  But since we're in space, he's the enemy.

  I wait for him to answer me, irked by the playful smile that remains on his face as he paces. He pretends to study all of us, but his gaze keeps straying back to me. "I think you were going to rob us and dump us. Steal our ship and enjoy a tidy little profit. And I'm also guessing it's not the first time you've pulled this sort of maneuver."

  He looks impressed instead of angry, and I don't know how to handle that. "We weren't going to kill you," I point out. "Just send you back into space on your ship."

  "If it makes you feel any better, it wouldn't have worked. We deliberately came to this sector looking for the Buoyant Star. We would have turned right back around and headed in your direction again, memory-altering gas or not."

  I'm not completely stupid. "We'd turn off the distress signal so you wouldn't be able to find us."

  His lips tilt into a smile. "And you'd move the ship?"

  I remain silent. I can't point out that we don't know how to do more than tap a few buttons on the ship. That most of what we've learned how to do has been through punching one button and waiting for the results, good or bad. That the only way we know how to turn on the gas in the one room was because Ruth was scrubbing air filters and hit the wrong button and knocked herself out for a day. It's been a lot of guess work, and since we have nothing else but free time, we've taught ourselves some rudimentary defenses.

  I don't regret that our plan failed. At least we had a plan. At least we tried. It's been clear to me from the get-go that no one looks out for humans except humans, so Ruth, Alice, Helen and I have done what we had to do to survive. If this one wants an apology, he's going to be waiting for a while.

  I lift my chin, defiant. "Does it matter if we move the ship or not?"

  He shrugs. "I mean, I'd move it. At this rate, the ice field's going to swallow you up in a few weeks. Maybe a month or two. Unless that's part of your plan…?" He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head at me.

  I try not to let my shock show. Ice field? What ice field? We've noticed that the ship has had to work a little harder to maintain a regulated temperature, but we didn't know what was causing it, just that the meters were showing an increase in output of some kind. But if we're slowly drifting toward an ice field…what does that mean? And what happens to us then? I want to look over at the others, but I don't dare give away how much or how little we know.

  I just shrug. What else can I do?

  The door behind him opens, and three other big aliens walk in. I glance at my “friend” and a hint of irritation crosses his face, quickly masked. Interesting. Is he annoyed that they're here to torture us before he could get information out of us? Or is it something else?

  "I just want you all to know that I bite," Ruth snarls as the aliens glare at us. "I will absolutely tear a chunk off of any appendage that comes into range."

  "And I have a disease," Alice announces. "If you touch me, you'll catch it."

  I glance over at my ladies, and they're wearing looks of defiance. Except Helen. She looks depressed. "I want a disease," she whispers.

  Alice shakes her head at her.

  The friendly one joins the others, looping his arms around the shoulders of two of the men. They look alike, now that he moves in between them, I realize. Cousins? Brothers? They're all handsome in that alien way, but they're still the enemy. The one in black robes glares at us, his tail flicking back and forth under his skirts.

  Now THAT one is agitated. He doesn't have to say a word for him to make me uneasy.

  "Well, boys," my “friend” announces, grinning. "How do we punish? I vote spanking."

  15

  JADE

  Spanking? Is that man serious?

  Actually, I know the answer to that, somehow. No, he's not serious. Judging from the wide grin on his face, the man is rarely ever serious. It's even more evident when his friends roll their eyes at him.

  "Be serious, Adiron," says the tallest of the three.

  Adiron. All right. I memorize that name because I have a feeling I'm going to need it in the future. Adiron. Adiron. I study the aliens and it looks like they're all irritated at the spanking suggestion. A prickle of relief moves over me because if they're not into that idea, we're probably not getting raped. Thank god for that. I shift in my cuffs, trying to free my hands.

  "Do you wanna tell us what that was about?" One shrugs off Adiron's arm and marches forward. His gaze is locked on a defiant Alice, and he's glaring at her like she's betrayed him. That's the one she cried against, I realize. Guess his feelings are a little hurt at being deceived. Too bad for him. Alice keeps her expression bland, her gaze locked on the floor, and she remains silent.

  "Anyone?" calls the black-robed one. "Speak now and we'll be merciful."

  I can feel Adiron's gaze on me, but I say nothing. I calmly stare ahead at nothing and tug at my cuffs again. No one else speaks. I know they won't. We all know we're in this together, and we're not going to screw the others over by blabbing our guts out. Not that it's a big secret, but the way this one demands makes my hackles go up.

  "Well?" snarls the one in black. "Are you going to explain how human slaves got a hold of my family's ship? Did you steal it? What did you do with the crew? Where are they?"

  No one talks.

  In fact, no one talks for the next half-hour or so while they continue to pepper us with questions. Why did we attack them? How many ships have we lured? What's our goal? How did we acquire the Buoyant Star? Where's the crew? What's in the hold? As the minutes pass and the men get more agitated, I can't help but notice that Adiron—the spanking enthusiast—takes a seat across from us and crosses his arms over his chest. His legs are sprawled out and he looks bored, his tail calm.

  I'm choosing to take that as a good sign. The other three are worked up as they ask us more questions we don't answer, but I'm starting to feel comfortable that no one's going to torture information out of us. Whoever these aliens are, I don't think they arrived onto the ship with malicious intent. I don't know how we're going to break free, but right now, I'm taking it one problem at a time. I'll watch and observe, and eventually the right opportunity will present itself.

  Adiron might be the key, in fact. I glance through my lashes over at him, and he's watching me. He seems fascinated with me for some reason, and I can use that to my advantage if I have to. I can distract him in some way, or convince him to let us go, or…

  As I subversively regard him, Adiron jumps to his feet. "We're not getting anywhere with this," he announces. "I have a better idea."

  "Oh, here we go," mutters the black-robed one.

  I lift my head and watch, uneasy, as Adiron grabs the three men and pulls them in for a football huddle. They whisper, too low for my translator to pick up, and now my worry spikes again.

  They turn to look at us with calculating gazes, and my neck prickles with alarm. "Leave the others alone," I volunteer suddenly. "They can't tell you anything."

  "Jade," Alice hisses.

  I ignore her. If I have to sacrifice myself to save the others, I'll gladly do so. Those girls are my family. "You don't want them," I boldly claim. "You want me."

  "Big words for someone that's said nothing in the past half hour," says the tallest of the group, and then he nods at Adiron. "We'll try your suggestion. Grab one."

  The men surge forward and I bite back a scream of terror. Ruth growls, Alice tries to shove her chair backward, and Helen whimpers in distress. This is it now. This is the end of the “nice guys” act. I lift my chin, trying to look far more defiant than I feel as Adiron stalks toward me. Of course he's
coming for me. He's been fascinated with me since the moment our eyes met.

  Well, if he expects me to go down without a fight, he's going to be in for a surprise.

  Except…I'm the one surprised when he moves behind my chair and activates a mechanism. It surges forward and he steers me toward the door. With a worried glance backward at the others, my captor steers my chair into the hall. I hear commotion in the room behind me and a called out “Get her to stop kicking!” rings in the hall.

  That'd be Ruth, I wager. I hope she kicks a few of them in the blue gonads.

  Meanwhile, Adiron keeps rolling me down the hall. We zoom past a few of the red-skinned guards who look at us with curiosity, and I try to add them to my mental tally. It's hard, though—they all have the same faces. I don't know if these are the same guards as before or different ones. Clones, someone said. Right. Well, shit. How many clones are on this ship with us? My heart sinks, because the more people we run across, the worse our chances are.

  A group of four smart, canny, prepared women can absolutely take down a handful of enemies. But fifteen? Twenty? I don't like those odds and my stomach tightens with distress.

  Behind me, Adiron whistles as he guides my chair forward. At the far end of the hall, a door opens and reveals an elevator. He steers me onto it, and my anxiety just increases. I twist at my cuffs again, desperate. "If you think you can rape some answers out of me," I warn, "you are sorely mistaken."

  "Rape you?" He sounds disgusted and more than a little shocked. "Why would you think that?"

  "Because you're separating me from the others? Because you want answers?" I pause for a moment, then add, "Because I've seen the way you keep looking at me?"

  He moves to the side of my chair and taps a command into the elevator. The doors close, and as they slowly shut, I see the dark-robed one coming down the hall with a kicking, writhing Ruth flung over his shoulder. A knot forms in my throat. Is this it? Is this the end? Are we being separated to be interrogated and executed? If an alien man doesn't want a human woman for sex, what the hell does he want, then?

  I don't have the answers, and I don't like it.

  The doors close, and then I'm alone with my captor. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself, and feel his weight press down on both arms of my chair. When I open my eyes, he's looming over me, his face inches from mine.

  "I have been looking at you," Adiron confesses. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it? Distract us with your bodies in those outfits? Well, it worked. I'm plenty distracted." And he gives me another crooked, disarming grin. "But I'm also not an asshole. I'm not touching you unless you ask for it."

  "Don't hold your breath," I retort.

  "Oh, I won't." With another naughty grin, he straightens. "But you're right. We're separating you in the hopes that someone will crack and give us answers."

  "No one will," I bluff. Except…will they? We're a tight group, but we have our flaws. Ruth has a temper. I'm overprotective of the others. Helen…well, Helen's a fully grown adult but she's also incredibly innocent. It'd be easy to trick her. I know Alice is solid. The others, I'm not so sure about, including myself.

  Adiron just shrugs, looking unperturbed at my declaration. "If you don't break, at least I get to spend some time in your company." The elevator stops, a gentle lifting motion the indication we've reached our destination. The doors open, and Adiron wheels me down another hall and then stops.

  "Where are we going?" I ask, unable to remain silent.

  "I thought you might be hungry," my captor says. "We're heading to the mess to see what kind of fancy food Lord Straik has on tap. And we're gonna eat it."

  16

  ADIRON

  I guide Jade's chair into the mess hall, and I'm glad to see that it's empty. The a'ani tend to take their meals on a fairly rigid schedule, so it's deserted around here between meal times. That's perfect for my needs. I'm not hungry, but I keep thinking about Jade and that little falling-apart outfit she's wearing. I think about how long the Buoyant Star has been missing in deep space. If what the humans mentioned is true—that they were left behind—then I wonder at their food supplies. If it's a lie and just part of the story designed to trap us, she won't bat an eye at Straik's food supplies.

  So I settle her chair in front of one of the tables, consider her, and then deactivate the cuffs.

  She rubs her delicate wrists and looks over at me. "Are you sure that's wise?" She arches a brow in my direction. "Shouldn't you lock down the big bad humans?"

  I just shrug. "You aren't going anywhere without your friends. And we can't exactly get to know each other with you trussed up, can we?"

  Jade rubs her wrists again and shrugs. "There's nothing to tell you."

  I doubt that very much. I head to the series of dispensers above the countertop and study them. There's a variety of foods of all kinds—from comfort foods like askri noodles to more exotic things, like a variety of fruits, or spicy cheeses from one of Homeworld's moons. I pretend to study all of it and turn to her, all casual. "What do you feel like eating?"

  "Whatever," she says quietly, her watchful gaze on me.

  So she's determined not to give away anything either. Her expression is impassive, and if I wasn't already besotted with this female, I would be now. She's a challenge, this one, and I'm dying to know her story. She doesn't kick and scream like the long-haired one, or glower mutinously like the yellow-haired one. Her rebellions are subtle, and I get the impression that she's watching me closely so she can use whatever information I give her, just like I'm doing to her.

  I cross my arms and pretend to consider the menus available. "Are you in the mood for noodles? Fruit? Some sort of sweet?"

  "What part of 'whatever' don't you understand?" she retorts, her voice tart. I hear her get up and when I glance over, she joins me at my side. Not running, not attacking. Assessing. Waiting.

  Kef me, what a female.

  I lean over toward her, enjoying this immensely. I don't even care that she got me all drugged up on something that's making me itch, still. I scratch at my chest as I speak. "You said 'whatever,' but if I pulled out a bowl of kelp soup, would you be happy with it? Lord Straik has tons of credits and feeds his soldiers well. We might as well take advantage of his largesse."

  She looks over at me and chews on her full lower lip. "It's been a while since I've had fruit," she admits in a small voice.

  For a moment, I think this is a trick. That she's throwing me a tidbit to make me curious. Maybe so…and I love that I can't read her. I punch in the request, and soon, a few pieces of fruit tumble into a serving bowl, and a plas-film napkin shoots out after it. I grab them and gesture that she should join me at the nearest table.

  She does, and her gaze is on the fruit. I can practically see her mouth watering, and that tells me plenty. She might not want to tell me anything about how they got on the Star, but if her excitement over fruit is this obvious, then she truly hasn't had any in a while. I mean, who gets excited over jirri or gomaii stone fruit? No one in the universe, that's who.

  I hold a piece out to her, and she takes it from my hand with eagerness and then turns it, curious. "How do you eat it?"

  "Jirri?" I take it from her, making sure to brush her fingertips with mine just because I'm that keffing guy, and pull one of the spiky petals off of it. "You unwrap it like this, and the rind falls away. Then you can eat the soft insides."

  Jade gives me a grateful smile, practically snatching the fruit back from me. I watch her fumble with it for a moment as I pull out my knife and split my stone fruit in half, discarding the stone in the center. I pretend to be focused on my food, but I'm watching her as she puts the first bite into her mouth. Her eyes close and she bites back a sound of pleasure that makes my skin prickle with awareness and my cock jump in my trou. It takes everything I have to remain still as she licks a bit of juice from her thumb, because I want her to lick parts of me like that.

  I'm such a keffing idiot. Why did I go with fruit? I should have g
one with noodles. No one eats noodles sexy…but I bet Jade would. I think I'm keffed any way I look at it.

  "Good?" I ask, scratching at my arm as she devours the fruit.

  Jade beams at me, not pausing in her chewing, and nods. "Amazing."

  I offer her half of my stone fruit and then snap my fingers. "I know something else you'll like," I say all casual. "It's a fruit juice made from a plant that grows on Homeworld. Very sweet and tart."

  "Should you get that looked at?"

  I glance over at her as the juice pours into a tumbler. She gestures at my face. "It looks uncomfortable."

  Not half as uncomfortable as the swelling in my trou. But I shrug and pay it no mind. "If it becomes problematic, there's a med-bay on the ship."

  "A working one?" Her tone is slightly wistful. "Ours hasn't worked in over two years."

  She's letting her guard down. Opening up. I hide my excitement and bring the juice to her side. It's the part of my master plan that I'm proudest of, and it's been incredibly easy to bring it into the conversation. "Here you go," I pronounce grandly. "We call it sweetjuice back home. I think you'll like it."

  If she knows what sweetjuice is, she makes no indication of it. Jade sniffs the tumbler and then gives me a shy smile that makes my heart stutter in my chest. "Thank you."

  And she takes a sip. Smiles. Takes another.

  I lean back in my chair, grinning at her, waiting for the effects to kick in. I remember when Zoey was a tiny little runt, no more than arms and legs, running around our ship. She tried sweetjuice for the first time after we brought back a carafe from a station cantina and then drunkenly wandered around the Little Sister for hours, talking to her shoe. It made her drunk beyond any alcohol, and after that hilarious incident, we kept sweetjuice off the ship.