by Jack Archer
“What’s your name, të?” Kyran asked in a deadly whisper, leaning his hands on the counter. Behind him, Lupe chuckled and folded their arms while Rystar watched with wide eyes.
“Dalion,” he replied. Kyran nodded.
“And how old are you?” Kyran asked again in that voice. “Hundred? Hundred twenty?”
“Hundred and sixteen,” the surly worker huffed.
“Well, Dalion,” Kyran drawled, “if you knew anything about LASSOs, you’d know this is a pretty straightforward job and not worth anything over 4,000 tsetär.”
“We’re not specialized in LASSOs,” Dalion said, flicking some of his hair back.
“But there is a specialized LASSO repair one jump away from here,” Kyran said, looking behind him at Lupe, who nodded. “So maybe we’ll just go there, and you can tell your wolhïch how you lost him 40,000 tsetär.”
Kyran let his fangs slip below his bottom lip, and he patted the counter, watching Dalion’s eyes go wide as he stood up straight behind the counter. “Wait, Nyesye, I think we can do something within that range.”
“You sure?” Kyran said, turning around and cocking an eyebrow at him. “I’d hate to leave my precious ship in the hands of someone unauthorized to deal with it.”
“The wolhïch has handled some LASSOs before,” Dalion said, picking up his comms tablet to type something in, “I’m sure he’ll know what to do.”
“Sorry to put you through so much trouble,” Kyran chuckled, turning around to the counter and leaning an elbow on it.
Dalion nodded and waited for a moment, finger hovering over his tablet before it dinged, and he looked back up at the party. “Wolhïch says you can drop her off in garage 3. The repairs will take two cycles.”
“Thank you kindly,” Kyran said with a grin, flipping out a card for Dalion to swipe. “See you in a couple cycles.”
He motioned for Lupe and Rystar to follow him back to the Firehawk and opened the airlock, stepping inside to let the air depressurize around them. “See? Easy as can be.”
“You’re a regular snake with that tongue,” Rystar chuckled as the air blew around them. It stopped, and the inner door opened, letting them in.
“I’ve had years to practice,” Kyran said, tapping his nose at her and heading down to the hangar while Lupe went to the bridge to back up the Firehawk to garage 3.
Kyran followed Rystar down to the hangar while the Firehawk maneuvered its large body into position. He headed to the closed room in the hangar to protect himself from the space outside when the hangar would open, and she hopped up into the old ship and started it as they halted, presumably near garage three.
Rystar switched it to air mode. Kyran watched as thrusters appeared underneath the ship and began to sputter, lifting her up the tiniest bit as the hangar door opened, and she moved the Gloriosum with care out of the Firehawk and into the garage. A walkway appeared next to her ship, and he didn’t see any more after that as the hangar door closed.
They reentered the repair port to pick up Rystar and flew a few minutes down the way to another space port to hole up at while the repairs were done. It was tiny and only had a mini-market with a limited supply of food and a singular bar, which none of the crew cared to drink at.
They milled about the ship for several hours, watching vids or reading. Shea was nowhere to be found, and Kyran assumed he was still hiding with his tail between his legs. Poor kid was just getting started in the rogue bounty hunter realm. Kyran couldn’t fault him too hard for trying to save his friend.
He thought about Shea and Rystar together, and a rush jerked through him, happy for the pair of them but wondering if Rystar considered Kyran off-limits now. He had asked to speak with her when she came back from the prison, but she had yet to show up at his door.
He sighed, laying on his back on the bed, arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. There was a load of information at his fingertips, but somehow he just wanted to stare into space instead. The rest of Rystar’s file had gone unread, Kyran having pushed it to the back of his mind since he confirmed she was Ephrem’s granddaughter.
He would have to tell her sometime. It wasn’t fair for her. She deserved to know about Kyran’s feelings and how mixed up they were, and Kyran still had yet to determine if his feelings were because of her or because of her grandfather. Every time he heard her speak, he knew it was because of her, but then he’d look into Rystar’s eyes and only saw him.
Kyran shook his head and rubbed his hands on his face, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. Time to get up and stop stewing in emotions, he thought. Go do something productive.
The entire day passed without incident, and they all ate separately in their quarters. Never a solitary Sustri, Kyran hated every minute of it. The next day he announced they’d all be having dinner together that night, and there would be drinks aplenty, and they were all going to socialize, damn it.
“Why the fancy dinner?” Rystar asked, leaning against the central column on the bridge as Kyran stood next to the space shield and gazed out of it. It was a crappy view, no sun or anything, but at least the vast sea of stars was visible. He turned to face her and tried to smile.
“Got pretty sad up there all by my lonesome,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping slowly across the bridge towards her.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come and talked to you yet,” she said, pushing off the column and pursing her lips. Never one to show nervousness or hesitation, Rystar bit at her lip and took a deep breath, obviously worried about how Kyran would react to her refusal to speak with him.
“I know I can be pretty intimidating,” Kyran chuckled and stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking up at her. “But if you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”
“Ready for what?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
“I think you know,” he responded. She nodded at that and looked down at the ground, tapping the toe of her shoe on the top staircase.
“Well, then, maybe I’ll see you after dinner,” she said, bringing her head back up and flicking some hair from her face. She was unreadable, as always, but Kyran smiled all the same, his fangs coming out subconsciously.
“I’ll be waiting,” he said.
She gave him a tight-lipped smile and turned to leave, the elevator doors closing, and Kyran stood there for many moments, wondering what the hell he was doing.
Chapter Eleven
Rystar Umara: DSV Firehawk, Sancus Station, Gliese 581
Dinner that night had been a strange affair. Na’gya was in a weird mood, Shea was barely talking to her, and Kyran had been eyeing her the entire evening from across the table. She would keep her promise to talk with him that evening, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be nervous about it the entire time.
Rystar stood in front of the mirror and smoothed down her shirt, an old thing she had found in the closet of her room. She had a nagging feeling she knew what Kyran wanted and definitely wanted it herself, but she couldn’t seem to move her feet towards the door. Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, her comms tablet buzzed, and she looked down at it, smiling at the message.
Skylock
You coming, darlin
Rystar
you know it's unbecoming to rush a lady
Skylock
I’m hardly becoming at all, so joke’s on you
Rystar
i wouldnt say that
Rystar had given herself whiplash with the 180-degree turn she did about this man. Maybe it was the trust Na’gya had put in him and his crew, maybe it was the smoldering red eyes, but Kyran had done a number on Rystar’s heart. She wanted to snap out of it, but every time she tried, his name popped up on her tablet again, or she bumped into him in the hallways.
It was maddening.
As she left her room, she turned to see Na’gya leaning on his doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest, and wings furled up behind him. “Time for dessert, I guess?”
“No
way,” Rystar said with a shake of her head, closing the door behind her, “just a talk with Kyran. I’m sure he wants to discuss what we’ll do once we’re at the Hoop.”
“He’d want to talk to me about that, too,” Na’gya pointed out. He wasn’t wrong, and Rystar pushed her bottom lip out.
“Then I’m sure it’s—”
“Just be careful around him,” Na’gya cut in.
“How much harm could he do?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
“I’ve seen Sustri like him before,” he replied, his wings stretching around him as he dropped his arms to his sides. “Just don’t let him take advantage of you, alright?”
“No one takes advantage of me,” Rystar said and raised an eyebrow at him, worried at his sudden interest in her wellbeing. “You’re not…” she tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. Na’gya shrugged and gave her that tiny smirk of his bright blue eyes flashing with something she couldn’t identify.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” was all he would say. “I like you.”
She nodded and turned on a heel, walking down the hallway to the elevators that would take her to Kyran’s quarters and into his presumably waiting arms.
As she walked, she tried to work it all out in her head, why she was even on her way to the insufferable bastard’s quarters, why she wanted him so badly. She almost blamed his Sustri nature, but she wasn’t drawn to any of the rest of the crew like she was to him.
The elevator ride was too short, and she found herself stepping out of it far too soon, her heart hammering in her throat. One foot in front of the other, his door loomed closer. Before she could knock, it opened, and cherry-red hair and eyes to match met her.
“Fancy seeing you here, sugar,” he purred, flicking some hair from his face. She subconsciously did the same, scratching the shaved part of her head and looking around the doorframe—anything to not get hooked by those piercing eyes. Na’gya was right. He was dangerous.
“My presence was requested,” she said, holding her head up and clasping her hands behind her back. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“Come in,” he said, standing back to let her come through the doorway. It clicked shut behind her, and soft footsteps circled her until she could see Kyran again, first in her peripheral vision and then full-on. She felt seen, like he was looking directly through her, but his gaze didn’t make her uncomfortable at all. In fact, she warmed beneath it.
“I have to admit to you,” he began, scratching an eyebrow with a long thumbnail, “I had Enzo grab you and Shea’s records from Nitran while he was getting information on the Hoop.” He looked up at her with a worried glance, biting his nail now with small teeth, and she tried to be mad but couldn’t.
“I’d want to know as much about my stowaways as possible,” Rystar said with a shrug and let her arms fall to her sides, “can’t say I blame you.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Kyran sighed and let his shoulders sag. He stood up straight and fixed her with a strange look, eyebrows knitted together and eyes boring into hers.
“Find anything interesting?” Rystar asked with a small chuckle.
Kyran smiled that lopsided grin of his and opened his mouth but looked away towards the window that held his large, trailing plant. When he spoke again, his voice was pained, not anything like the haughty, strange accented words he usually spat at her. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“How long are we going to keep doing this dance, Skylock?” she asked, stepping towards him deliberately, hands still behind her back. It set her on edge, the way he had deflated so quickly (had he found something out of the ordinary?), but all that was pushed out of her mind when he turned around and smiled a genuine grin. It wasn’t cocky or sure of itself, and he regarded her like an old friend, someone he had a long history with.
“As long as you want, sugar,” he purred, wrapping his arm around her waist. They backed up until the backs of Rystar’s knees hit the edge of the bed, and she turned to see black sheets made up without a wrinkle on them, dark pillows on the head of the bed. As she turned back around, Kyran was on her again, arm pulling her close.
Her head was spinning as Kyran tilted her chin up to kiss her. The sharp teeth stabbed into her lip, making the otherwise gentle embrace a perfect mix of breathtaking and painful. He took her tongue between his front teeth and bit lightly, surprising Rystar.
“Worried you might hurt me?” she said, taking in a sharp breath when he ran a hand through her hair and pulled her head to the side, exposing her throat. Wild thoughts flew through her head, and her heart quickened. Did the Sustris play by vampire rules?
But all she felt on her neck was a warm tongue and the light scrape of teeth. Her mouth fell open, and she had to snap it back shut before he could see the stupid look on her face when he pulled her head back up to look at her, his eyes a shade of dark ruby. An alabaster finger traced the line of her collarbone, and he pressed them closer together.
She was still tense and grabbed at his hips a little harder than she meant to. It didn’t get past Kyran.
“If I didn’t know any better,” Kyran hissed, pulling her away from him and looking down at her, the black V-neck of his shirt a stark contrast against his pale skin, “I’d say you were still a little pissed at me.”
“A little?” Rystar scoffed and pulled her arms up to cross her chest. “I should still be fighting you, not…” she waved her hand at his body.
“You could still try and punch me again. I wouldn’t mind,” Kyran said with a grin, wiping his nose and taking her by the throat to pull her back to him and look at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “I’d love to see your pretty blood all over my floor.”
Rystar rolled her eyes as Kyran grabbed her by the wrists and swung them both onto the bed, knees on either side of her chest and arms splayed up over her head.
“Make you feel good to beat a girl?” Rystar said, out of breath and twisting her legs together. The thrill of the fight was too much for her. Kyran looked down at her with a fire in his eyes too.
“I’m sure you have something up your sleeve,” he murmured, bending down closer to her.
She did.
With limited motion, she was still able to lean forward and press her mouth against the erection straining in his pants, and he let out a moan. She bucked her hips up and groaned when they hit nothing but thin air. Kyran pushed his own hips closer to her mouth, and she ran her tongue along the cold leather, wishing it was hot skin.
“Told you,” she chuckled darkly, and he released his fingers from around her wrists. Blood flowed back into her hands, and she wished his grip would return but enjoyed the way he slid down her body a lot more. His long fingers explored every inch of her chest, running along the curve of her breasts before settling on her stomach and hooking into the waist of her jeans.
He came back up, seeming desperate to get his lips on hers again and they sank together, moaning into each other. Reaching back to grab his ass and pull him closer to her, Rystar tilted her head back, exposing a pale expanse of throat and hearing Kyran moan at the sight.
“I want to feel the back of your throat, baby girl,” he whispered, and Rystar nearly fainted as he undid his pants and peeled them off, exposing his entire lower body. She wondered if he got any sun at all, bright white he was, but he crawled up her body, and she sat up some. Wrapping a hand around his cock and pulling him closer, she looked up at him and smirked before pumping him a few times.
Rystar didn’t trust herself to say anything at this point. Something embarrassing would come out, and she’d have to leave this man and his perfect body and jettison herself out with the ship’s garbage. And she couldn’t have that. Not with the promise of those sharp nails that were currently burying themselves in Rystar’s hair, not before she could show him just how little of a gag reflex she had.
She teased him for a bit, one hand gripping the base of his dick and the other squeezing his ass. Her tongue just barely slid along his l
ength, and she wanted nothing more than to shove him into her fully. But not yet.
When she finally did pull his head into her mouth and sucked lightly, she heard the familiar groan of a man she had wrapped around her finger. Except this time, it came from Kyran.
“Fuck me,” he moaned, gripping her hair tighter, and she popped off of him to look up and smirk. The look on his face was criminal.
“You really want to move that fast?” she admonished, wanting nothing more than to, yes, fuck him against the mattress and strangle him for the problems he had caused them. For a moment, she forgot she was mad at him. The second she remembered, she squeezed the base of his cock and sank her mouth down on him, letting his head slide along her tongue until he hit the back of her throat.
Kyran hissed and tightened his grip on her hair. “Shit, sweetheart, yes.”
She continued for a few moments, letting him linger in her throat until she couldn’t breathe, and finally, it seemed he couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled away and yanked his shirt off, motioning for her to do the same. It didn’t take long for him to push her back onto the bed and slide his hands up her ribs to cup her breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth. He was careful with his teeth, which just made Rystar want him more.
Bastard.
Soon she found her jeans were missing, and he was slipping her underwear off, flinging them across the room, and somehow she didn’t see herself completely naked with this man when they first met. But here they were, Kyran between her legs, working her with long fingers and sucking at her clit, and soon she was a writhing mess on his bed, grasping at the sheets and biting down on her lips.
“Oh God, fuck you—” she managed to say as he flicked his tongue and continued to slide into her. Somehow he found time to look up at her from between her legs, the fire in his eyes a raucous flame now, and Rystar threw her head back, the orgasm washing over her. Legs shaking, she barely noticed Kyran climbing back up her body, leaving kisses on her hips and stomach.