Captive

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Captive Page 8

by Cheryl Brooks


  Moe caught up easily and swung the Norludian onto his back. “We’ll get there faster if I do the running. Just hang on tight and tell me where to go.”

  “Straight ahead, then turn left at the next corner.”

  “Got it.” Moe ramped up the speed. Moments later, they blew past Nexbit and Klara before overtaking the Racks.

  “Remind me to stick with you from now on,” Temfilk said in his ear. “This is awesome!”

  Without bothering to answer, Moe made the turn, then slowed.

  Temfilk gasped. “Why are you stopping?”

  “Pulse fire,” Moe replied. “We’ll wait here for the others.”

  Seconds later, the Racks raced around the corner with Nexbit and Klara bringing up the rear. “Keep going,” Moe said as he waved them on by. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

  Without slackening her pace, Klara replied with a terse nod.

  “Forget what I said earlier,” Temfilk grumbled. “If I’d known you were gonna play hero…”

  “I’m not playing hero,” Moe insisted as he leaned against the wall, hoping the Nedwuts wouldn’t spot him before he could make his move. “This is our best strategy.”

  On the word, the snarling Nedwut pack rounded the corner with pistols drawn. Moe switched to a wide stun beam and fired.

  This time, his pistol actually worked. The Nedwuts couldn’t have dropped any faster if the street had been yanked from beneath their feet. Moe waited several seconds, picked off three stragglers, and then ran in the direction Klara had taken with Temfilk clinging to his back like an Uldarian leech. When all this was over, Moe would probably find sucker marks on his shoulders. But for now, nothing mattered beyond finding Klara and, hopefully, a safer place to hole up for the rest of the night.

  After that, he was going to the spaceport, with or without her and her buddies. The inhabitants of Haedus Nine had gotten on his last nerve.

  Chapter 8

  “This is the rendezvous point?” Moe exclaimed when he reached a pile of rubbish that was larger and smelled worse than any he had yet seen. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Temfilk climbed down from Moe’s back. “Hey, would you come anywhere near this place if you didn’t have to?”

  “Well, no. I probably wouldn’t,” Moe replied. Granted, there was sufficient cover nearby, although none of the buildings appeared to be as sound as the one they’d left behind. “Don’t suppose you have an alternative headquarters, do you?”

  “Sure. That’s it over there.” Temfilk pointed to a tiny house that looked as if it had been built for—and possibly by—Rackenspries or some other diminutive species. On any other world, he might’ve assumed it was a children’s playhouse. As they approached, Moe doubted if he could even stand upright once he was inside. He had to duck his head to avoid hitting the lintel as it was.

  Still, as an unassuming and unlikely hideout, the house had a lot to recommend it—particularly having a door in each of its four exterior walls.

  Nah, that would only make it easier to surround and lay siege to.

  But perhaps it had other hidden attributes.

  Klara, Nexbit, and the Racks were already there, Moe having purposely left them with a sizeable head start.

  “About time you got here,” Nexbit said with a touch of sarcasm. “We were about to send out a search party.”

  Moe let that one slide without so much as a roll of his eyes. His beef wasn’t with the Sympaticon, even if he did look like a giant rat in his current form. “Any plans for where to go next?”

  “What? You don’t like this house?” Temfilk plopped down on a nearby overstuffed chair, raising a small cloud of dust as he did so. “I think it’s quite homey, myself.”

  The Racks apparently thought so too. They were already curled up in a pile in the corner, the only evidence of their recent exertions being their heaving respirations. Klara sat in a rickety chair at an equally wobbly table, bouncing her fist against her upper lip in a display of impatience or concern—Moe couldn’t tell which.

  Moe pulled up another chair, testing it for stability before gingerly taking a seat at the table. “Plotting our next move?”

  The glare she shot him should’ve raised welts. However, her reply was reasonably mild given the circumstances. “Trying to,” she replied. “Right now, I’m open to suggestions.”

  Her attitude was understandable. Clearly, this was the first time she and her cohorts had ever been attacked in their lair. Something was different now, an extra grain of sand that tipped the scales…

  “It’s me, isn’t it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m the reason this Pelarus has upped the ante—possibly to the point of offering a larger reward for your capture.”

  Her expression went from skeptical to concerned in the space of three heartbeats. “I did have to pay that last Nedwut pack more than I ever have before. But I still don’t understand why that would have anything to do with you being here.”

  Moe leaned back in his chair with even more trepidation than when he’d sat down. “Plenty of people saw you guys carry me out of that bar. Word that you had captured a Zetithian male may have gotten back to Pelarus.”

  “Why would that matter?”

  If there was a way to explain his reasoning without sounding like a conceited asshole, Moe hadn’t hit on it yet. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “It’s because of the difference between Zetithian women and those of other species.”

  She arched a brow. “And that would be…?”

  “For a Zetithian woman, only a Zetithian man will do. The mating works fine the other way around—females of most species are attracted to us—but Zetithian men have a tough time enticing their own women. Males of other species don’t stand a chance. I’m guessing Pelarus knows that and sees me as a clear and present danger to his plans for you.”

  “He never stood a chance to begin with,” she snapped. “I made that quite plain long before you showed up.”

  “But my being here puts added pressure on him to succeed,” Moe went on with increasing conviction. “Before you and I met, the chances of you mating with anyone else on this entire world were essentially nil. Now that an unmated Zetithian male of roughly your own age has joined your gang, the odds against Pelarus are insurmountable.”

  “Unless someone kills you,” Temfilk pointed out. “If what you’re suggesting is true, there’s probably a bigger price on your head than there is on hers, and it might even be higher if you’re dead.”

  Moe exhaled sharply. “Yeah. That idea occurred to me, too.” He fixed his gaze on Klara, waiting patiently for the inevitable accusation that he was too damn cocky for his own good.

  For several moments, all he received from her was one unreadable sidelong glance.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “None of us is safe now. You can’t even show your face at the spaceport. The only one of us who could get away with anything is Nex.”

  A smile stole across Moe’s lips as his head tilted to one side, seemingly of its own accord. “Nex, have you ever seen this Pelarus guy?”

  “Lots of times,” Nexbit replied. “Only from a distance, though.”

  Moe nodded slowly. “Think you could duplicate him well enough to convince the spaceport officials?”

  “Maybe.” Nexbit scratched the side of his head, which had already returned to its resting state. “I can do Terrans well enough, and they aren’t much different from Vessonians, although I don’t know what either of them are like beneath their clothing. I can do the forehead ridges and slanted ears without any trouble, and as I recall, he has wavy blond hair that’s starting to gray on the sides.” As he spoke, the characteristics he mentioned gradually began to appear. “The trick will be finding clothing that could pass for his. Like most rich bastards, he’s a pretty snappy dresser—lots of jewels and long, sweeping cloaks.”

  “We’ve stolen stuff from him before,” Klara said. “Never anything that per
sonal, but we could try.” She turned toward Moe. “What are you suggesting we do? Show up at the spaceport and commandeer a starship?”

  “Something like that,” Moe replied. “But no matter what we decide to do, having one of us look like someone with power and money couldn’t hurt.”

  Temfilk started giggling. “Nex could go to a store pretending to be Pelarus and try on some clothes and have the bill sent to his palace.”

  “He lives in a palace?” Moe echoed.

  “Dunno what you’d call it, but that’s how everyone around here refers to it.” Temfilk popped a fingertip off the end of his nose. “It’s quite grand, you know.”

  “Gotcha.” Moe studied Temfilk for a long moment. “You once said you thought you were the only Norludian on the planet. Have you ever seen any other species that look like you? Something you could pass for if disguised?”

  “I doubt it,” Temfilk replied with a wag of his head. “I don’t look anything like the natives, either. Although if I covered myself in rags, most people would probably assume I was something else.” He tapped his chin. “That is, if they’ve ever seen one of us before. I try to keep a low profile as a rule.”

  Moe nodded. “Nex would need a sidekick or a servant to go with him to the clothing merchants. I don’t know the man at all, but he strikes me as the type who doesn’t go anywhere without an entourage.”

  “You got that right,” Klara said. “Even if we were all shape-shifters, there wouldn’t be enough of us.”

  “We should be able to come up with a story to tell in case anyone questions his lack of lackeys,” Moe said. “Like maybe he’s out shopping for gifts for his staff.”

  “No one would ever believe that story,” Klara scoffed. “It’s completely out of character.”

  Moe shrugged. “Maybe he could say he just wanted some time alone. Or he’s out in the community under cover to find out what people are saying about him.”

  “That’s even less likely,” she said with a derisive snort. “As far as I’ve ever been able to tell, he doesn’t care what anyone says as long as they don’t disagree with him. However, by all accounts, he is rather vain…”

  Moe slapped his palms on the table. “I’ve got it! Nex can pretend to be Pelarus, but with some sort of deformity or skin lesion that he wants to hide. He doesn’t want anyone to know about it, so he has to go out incognito. He could even wear your hooded robe.”

  Klara appeared to consider this, raking her lower lip with her fangs. “That might actually work.” Given her shudder of revulsion when she glanced toward Nexbit, his impression was probably spot-on.

  Moe took the disguise idea one step further. “And if you were with him, acting the part of an adoring concubine, any bounty hunters would leave you alone.”

  The thought of acting like anyone’s adoring concubine made Klara want to vomit.

  In contrast, Temfilk waved his arms with patent enthusiasm. “Oh, that’s perfect!”

  Nexbit would also be playing a role. If she held onto that thought, she might actually be able to pull it off.

  Entirely unbidden, the thought of posing as Moe’s concubine stole into her mind and captured her imagination. That role would require very little in the way of pretending. Depending, of course, on how far their playacting needed to go.

  Why not all the way?

  Posing as his lover, his mate, the mother of his children…

  Every cell in her body should have at least threatened to rebel. Instead, any rebellion fell apart when she glanced at Moe again. This was no cocky braggart spouting unbelievable lies. He was simply stating the facts.

  For a Zetithian woman, only a Zetithian man will do.

  She might as well give in to him now.

  Unfortunately, giving in was the last thing she wanted to do. First and foremost, she wanted to bite him hard enough to draw blood.

  That can’t possibly be right.

  He would know. All she had to do was ask him. He’d been honest enough before. Surely he wouldn’t lie to her now. Not about that.

  She turned to face him. “Why do I want to bite you so badly?”

  Clearly taken by surprise, Moe didn’t say a word.

  Nexbit returned to his resting state faster than Klara had ever seen him do it, a worried frown wrinkling his pale brow.

  Temfilk, on the other hand, cackled like a Haedusian crone. “Probably because you would rather be his concubine than anyone else’s.” After taking note of Moe’s stunned expression, he chuckled. “I’m right, and you both know it. You two need to get a room already.”

  Silence reigned for several moments before Moe cleared his throat to speak. “Seeing as how there’s only the one room here, that wouldn’t be terribly private.”

  “I’m good with that,” Temfilk said eagerly. “Watching the two of you go at it would be the high point of, well, my entire life.”

  Nexbit buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe you said that,” he muttered. “We really need to get you a girl.”

  “That would be great, but for now, watching is all I’m going to get.” Temfilk rubbed his hands together with glee. “Go for it, boss. Bite him.”

  Klara glared at the Norludian with all the indignation she could muster. “I will do no such thing. I only asked if he knew why I felt that way. I wasn’t asking his permission.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.” Temfilk glanced at Moe. “Biting is part of your mating ritual, isn’t it?”

  “Mating ritual?” Klara exclaimed. “How can biting possibly be construed as a form of–of”—she paused, searching for the right word—“affection?”

  Moe winced. “Remember what I said about Pelarus seeing me as his competition? It’s probably truer than you might think. You’ve already hissed at me twice, I purred while we were alone together, and now you want to bite me. I think you can guess what the next step is.”

  “Sex!” Temfilk hopped up and down, slapping his flippers on the rough wooden floor. If he’d been excited before, he could barely contain himself now. “Whoo hoo!”

  “Get a grip, Tem,” Nexbit advised. “Unless you want to find a new hideout and leave them to share this one, it ain’t gonna happen. Not tonight, anyway. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

  Temfilk’s nod was pure solicitude. “Too much shape-shifting will do that to a guy.” With a regretful sigh, he added, “Okay. I’ll stop. But just as soon as we’re someplace safe, I expect plenty of sexual fireworks.”

  “You don’t really think we would let you watch, do you?” Moe asked, his expression one of morbid fascination.

  “Oh, I don’t have to watch,” Temfilk said. “Just being in the same building with people having sex beats anything I’ve done so far.” He shook his head sadly. “This is the most undersexed world I’ve ever been on.”

  Moe bit back a smile. “Exactly how many planets have you visited?”

  “Three,” Temfilk replied. “I was born on Norludia. After I was kidnapped, we stopped once on Darconia, and now I’m here. Of those three, this is the worst, and Darconia, as I’m sure you know, is full of giant prehistoric monsters. They probably have sex, but I never got a sexual vibe from them or their planet. Whereas on Norludia, everything affects us in a sexual manner. Even the water.”

  “You astonish me,” Moe drawled. “I never would’ve guessed.” He leaned back in his chair with his elbow on the armrest and his cheek pressed against his fist—a move that aimed the exposed side of his neck in Klara’s direction. Even a high-collared shirt wouldn’t have hidden all of it, but the low collar of the T-shirt he wore under his jacket allowed her to see the entire length of his succulent, muscular neck. She’d never appreciated exactly how intoxicating the mere sight of a man’s neck could be. Especially his…

  She sucked in a ragged breath and nearly choked on the saliva flooding her mouth. If the table hadn’t been between them, she would’ve bitten the base of his neck without hesitation. The edge of the table dug into he
r ribs as she strained toward him until the table legs screeched across the floor.

  Startled by the sudden noise, she pushed away from the table. “It’ll be dawn soon, so if you guys are finished, I suggest we try to get some rest while we can.” She glanced at the Racks, who, for once, appeared to have more sense than any of the rest of the gang.

  “Hey, you’re the one who got us on this subject,” Temfilk insisted. “It’s not my fault this time.”

  “I never said it was. But we need to end it. Now.” Just when she would’ve loved to stomp down the hall to her room and slam the door, Klara’s only retreat was the nearest corner, which was dirty and entirely uninviting. Certainly not conducive to sleep. As alternate hideouts went, this one had very little to recommend it.

  We really should’ve put more effort into the furnishings.

  She was wadding up her cloak, intending to use it as a pillow when Moe stopped her with a tap on her shoulder.

  “You’ll need that for a blanket,” he said as he sat down beside her. Stretching out his legs, he patted his thigh. “You can use me for a pillow.”

  In her present state of mind, she should have refused. Should have made some deprecating remark about her cloak being softer than his well-muscled leg. But she didn’t. His offer caught her so unaware, tears stung her eyes before she could stop them. This was the kindest gesture anyone had made toward her in such a long time, she didn’t even know what to say.

  He patted his leg again. “Come on. You might even be able to sleep. I certainly won’t, so I may as well keep watch.”

  His reasoning was so sensible, so practical, she found herself complying without protest. He took the cloak from her and spread it over her as she curled up on her side with her head in his lap, facing toward his feet. His solid warmth soothed her in ways she never could have imagined. Even the air surrounding him seemed better somehow, laced as it was with a subtle scent that was as comforting and reassuring as a lullaby.

  Moments later, that peculiar sound he made when he breathed began again. She was almost asleep when she realized what it was.

 

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