Crux: A Sci-Fi Romance (The Jekh Saga Book 2)

by H. E. Trent

  “Can’t we go peek in the windshield? Is there a reason you’re holding us back here like you’re a nightclub bouncer?” Court asked.

  Allan furrowed his brow. “Actually, no. I think I’ve been watching too many old Earth movies with Geno. You know how shit always blows up in movies when people get too close? Well, I don’t think that tinker toy is going to blow up. Would have already.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting.”

  Allan snorted and dropped his arms.

  Erin moved with Court and Owen toward the front of the ship, and held her breath until she saw the woman in the copilot’s seat, who picked up a hand and waved.

  “Eileen,” Court said breathily. “Amy will be so happy to see her.”

  Eileen held up a single finger, the universal sign for “one moment.”

  Erin nodded.

  Eileen then made an elegant pointing gesture behind her and in the general direction of the ship’s side hatch. She looked very much like the flight attendant she’d trained to be.

  They backtracked to the side of the ship.

  Esteben slid his arms around Erin’s neck and kissed the top of her head. “All is well?”

  “So far. I think if anything was wrong, Eileen would have looked a little less pleased with herself.”

  The hatch popped out with a hiss, and then slowly opened out on hydraulic hinges.

  Erin wadded the fabric of Esteben’s tunic in her fists, needing some tactile distraction, and he clucked soothingly at her.

  “Erin, relax.”

  “Why am I so afraid, anyway?”

  Edgar Salehi poked his head out first, scanned the small crowd, and smiled. “Hey, Allan. Didn’t know you’d be out here.”

  “Helping with a little construction project. Breaks up the tedium of running a store.”

  “Stay right there. I’d invite you in, but plumbing systems are backed up because some asshole had been using the secondary tanks to store coke.”

  “I don’t think you mean the fizzy brown stuff.”

  “No, I’m talking about the stuff you’re going to incinerate at your earliest convenience.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Yeah. The entire ship smells like a Jersey turnpike rest stop bathroom over a Fourth of July weekend. Just give us a minute. Need to make sure our guests survived the landing better than Eileen did.”

  “Salehi, I warned you,” Eileen called from somewhere within.

  “Did he say guests?” Court whispered.

  “That’s what I heard,” Erin whispered back.

  Eileen appeared in the doorway and tossed a few duffel bags onto the ground. “Gonna get those out now so I don’t have to step foot into this piece of junk again any time soon.”

  “We need to move it onto Beshni property.” Owen was already reaching for the handles of the two bags. “Technically, you’re just outside the borders. While this piece of land is unclaimed and Trigrian could certainly try to annex a few more acres, we wouldn’t be able to monitor it. Let’s just dot all our I’s and cross all our T’s.”

  “Uh-huh.” Eileen disappeared, and then came back with two more bags, which Allen took. “Well, you take that up with Salehi. Not sure he’ll even be able to get this thing off the ground again.”

  “Edgar,” the man called out from within the bowels of the ship.

  “Nuh-uh,” Eileen said. “You know the rules.” Once again, she disappeared.

  Erin expected to see her return with more duffel bags or other supplies to unload, but instead, a stocky, wide-shouldered man ducked through the doorway, his blue gaze raking over the collection of people waiting just outside.

  Erin gripped Esteben’s tunic again, pulling him so tightly against her that the fabric ripped.

  “Be easy, kham” he whispered.

  She forced a swallow down her tight, dry throat and freed one hand from her lover’s shirt only to tug on Courtney’s. “Is…is that what he looked like?”

  “You know the answer to that. You know who you’re looking at.”

  And obviously, so did he.

  He stepped down from the ship and moved slowly, stiffly toward the trio of McGarrys at the right side of the clump. He was favoring his right leg, just like he used to. He’d messed it up jumping from a train as a kid, he used to say. Their grandmother said he was lying, but they’d never managed to find out the actual story.

  “You used to run up, all excited, whenever you saw me,” he said.

  Same deep baritone he used to have. Same Boston-by-way-of-Cork inflections.

  He sounded like home, even light years away from it.

  Court laughed softly. “You always had chocolate. Of course I was excited.”

  He turned his hands over and shrugged. “Fresh out, pumpkin. You’ll have to let me make it up to you.” He looked to Owen. “You never cared about chocolate. What’s your excuse? I can’t even get a decent hello from the kid who has my name? What kind of half-baked reception is this, anyway?”

  He had the same crooked smile Erin remembered—the one the youngest Owen had sometimes, too, on the rare occasion he smiled.

  “Maybe I’m just making sure you’re the same person I remember,” Owen said.

  “And what’s the prognosis?”

  Owen shrugged. “You’re all right, I guess.”

  Granddad let out a bark of laughter and gave Owen’s shoulder a nudge. “I knew you’d grow up to be a jerk just like me.”

  “How are you, Granddad?”

  “Tired. Hungry.”

  “There’s food left from lunch,” Court said. “Probably better than anything you had from the ship’s galley.”

  “I can almost guarantee it.” He took her hand and squeezed, and then turned to Erin. “Nothing to say to me, littlest one?”

  “Youngest. Court’s the littlest.”

  “Always so precise. That’s my Erin, all right.” He gave her short hair a tender ruffling. “And who’s this?” He nodded toward the man behind her.

  “Oh. That’s Esteben. He’s…my…”

  Esteben nudged her leg with his knee.

  Okay. Shit.

  “Uh. Actually, I don’t know if there’s a word for what he is, but he’s mine, and that one over there with the dark hair, too. Headron. He’s Headron.” She cleared her throat, and tried her damnedest not to look Court’s way when her sister snickered.

  Hag.

  “The Jekhan way,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

  “We are on Jekh, sir,” Esteben said equably.

  “Court has two dudes, too,” Erin said, “just so you know.”

  Court sighed.

  “Charming, Erin,” Murki said.

  “Jeez. Do all of ya speak English now?” Granddad asked, looking from one Jekhan male to the next. “The last time I was on the surface, most of you didn’t unless you were very rich or well-connected.”

  “You’ll find that many here do. Speaking the language is something of a necessity, as the majority of Terrans don’t speak any Jekhani,” Headron said.

  “Yeah, Edgar was trying to explain the population composition of Little Gitano to me before he sliced that piece of junk through the atmosphere. Nearly threw my damn back out.”

  Salehi, shaking his head, stepped out of the ship with three more bags and carried them to the truck bed. “Perhaps the next time I have to run errands in space, I’ll do so in a vessel that hasn’t yet outlived its warranty.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Granddad said. “Easy to blame the ship.”

  “That’s what I keep saying,” Eileen called out. “God forbid he ever admits that human error has anything to do with the turbulence.”

  “She’s never going to cut me any slack,” Salehi said.

  The next time Eileen stepped into the doorway, she stopped, turned, and said, “Come on. A little sunshine won’t hurt you. Can’t stay cooped up in this thing.”

  “Who’s she talking to?” Owen asked Granddad.

  “Accidental stowaway, courtesy of Reg Devin.”<
br />
  Some sound that seemed to be half growl and half snarl rumbled out of Court’s chest. “Should have killed him when I had the chance.”

  Owen slung an arm around her shoulders and shook his head. “I think at least one of your men had the chance, too. Rough place to be when you’re not sure if you’d feel more guilty for having done the act or having not done it. Personally, I prefer to believe my sister has excellent self-restraint and would leave the murdering to others.”

  “Just delegate the tasks, huh?”

  “I’m certain Murki will do the job,” Esteben said. “Or even I, if you ask nicely enough.”

  Erin craned her head back to see the smile on his face, but he wasn’t wearing one. He wasn’t joking.

  She didn’t know what it meant that she wasn’t put off by the mention of violence, except that, perhaps, she was becoming more practical.

  “You don’t sound like much of a Jekhan,” Granddad said to him, as Eileen continued to fuss with whoever was stubbornly remaining in the ship.

  “I doubt I am so unique in my sentiments,” Esteben said. “I simply happen to be far more likely to voice them than many others. What have I to lose from honesty?”

  “Only your reputation,” Headron said. “I’ve come to learn the Beshnis have something of a reputation for thuggery.”

  “And do you care, dum?”

  Headron shrugged. “I don’t anticipate becoming a victim.”

  “Oh, you already have been,” Court said, “or else you wouldn’t be shacking up with him. What’s charm but yet another form of coercion?”

  “Consider me a victim, then.”

  “You have stuff you want to tell me?” Erin asked Esteben. “Do I need to worry about you more than Courtney worries about Murki?”

  “That depends on what you believe is worth worrying about. Our opinions may vary.”

  “Sounds like something I once said to my wife,” Granddad muttered, rubbing the scruff on his chin.

  “Don’t encourage him, Granddad,” Erin said.

  “I’m not. I’m just saying that sometimes, the good guys do bad shit you never hear about, and the bad guys have soft spots that humanize them as much as anyone else. Lines blur, and sometimes, you can’t even tell which side you’re on.”

  “And which side are you on?” Court asked. “We thought we always knew.”

  “I’m the same guy you knew as a kid, but you’re old enough now to understand that people have nuances. There are shades of gray, and morality is a thing that gets fuzzy over time. All I ever tried to do was stand up for folks who didn’t deserve to be bullied. Am I perfect crusader? Hell no. I’m not a saint. I’m a garbage man with aspirations. That’s all.”

  “Maybe that’s enough,” Erin said softly.

  That crooked smile stretched his cheeks, and he ruffled her hair again just like he used to. “Hope so, baby girl.”

  Eileen appeared in the doorway yet again, this time pulling someone behind her by the hand. “All right, y’all give her some space so she doesn’t run and try to hide under the ship like a scared cat or something.”

  They all backed up a few paces.

  “No one here’s going to hurt her,” Court said.

  They couldn’t see the newcomer, only that Eileen was slowly backing down the ramp with her. Eileen must have towered over the person.

  “Is she a child?” Erin asked.

  “Nope. She’s grown enough, I guess,” Eileen said. “Little naive, but that’s par for the course with Jekhans.”

  At the end of the ramp, she moved out of the way and pulled the small person the rest of the way down.

  Definitely a woman. A beautiful woman. She looked Terran at first glance, but the longer Erin stared, the clearer her few Tyneali features were. Her pink cheeks, for one. Also, her general lack of breast tissue, which was typical of Jekhan females. Last, her red eyes.

  Her gaze raked over the crowd, and she took a step back.

  Eileen grabbed her hand. “Hey. Chill out. There are a lot of folks here, but they’re nice folks, okay? There are even a couple of hybrids like you.” She rubbed the woman’s hand and fixed a pointed look on Court. “Amy’s here, right? Tell me she’s here. I won’t be able to get the sourness out of my belly until I know.”

  Court nodded. “She’s a bit of a recluse now, so she’s probably in the office. She might not have heard the commotion, but she’ll be happy to see you. I’m sure of it.”

  “Good. Come on, Ais.” Eileen patted the timid woman’s shoulder and tried to get her moving toward the truck, but Ais took the long way around, eyes wide and expression one of terror as she looked toward the Jekhan men.

  “What the hell?” Erin whispered.

  Headron squeezed between Erin and Esteben and whispered, “Perhaps I’m misremembering the conversation, but I once heard some Terran police officers at Spilled Milk talking about labs. Could she be from one of them?”

  “Labs?” Esteben whispered back.

  “Breeding labs, I believe. Like the old ones they used to create this race and others. The Jekh experiment was supposed to have ceased. Perhaps it hasn’t.”

  “She could be dangerous, then,” Esteben said. “Unpredictable.”

  Erin didn’t miss the interest in his gaze, though, no matter how unpredictable he thought the newcomer was.

  Fresh meat. There were probably more where she came from, too. Perfect replenishment for a planet starved for women.

  Hissing, Esteben tucked her close to his body and turned her in his grip so her face was to his chest.

  “Really, Esteben?” Headron asked in an undertone. The crowd around them had moved away, heading toward the truck and the flyer.

  “A reflex.” He squeezed Erin even tighter—so tightly she couldn’t even look up at him. “Do you not feel the same impulses?”

  “Of course I do, but likely not to the same degree as you. The urge may cross my mind, but my body remains still until the temptation passes.”

  “What are you talking about?” Erin’s voice came out in a muffle against Esteben’s chest.

  “Hormones,” Headron said.

  “What do they have to do with anything?”

  “Because our women have a tendency to drift, we’re a little more attuned to certain moods. When they go cold, their scent changes. Yours just did.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You smelled like you were going to bolt.”

  “I wasn’t.” She’d only thought that maybe the men had acted too rashly in deciding to keep her. She didn’t want to run. Not really.

  “Well, get your body in check. He won’t want to give you autonomy until he’s convinced you’re settled.”

  “I’m not a pet.”

  “Stop behaving like one, then,” Esteben said. “Perhaps we shouldn’t allow you to come and go as you see fit. Perhaps we should keep you confined and shackled until we’re convinced you’ll behave like the wife you’re supposed to be, and not like a wandering puppy like Jerry.”

  “Let go of me.” She writhed ineffectually in his arms, and growled. “Headron, make him let go.”

  “No. I’m just as tired as he is of your come-and-go mentality. You’re Terran. Act like it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Not even a Jekhan woman would relinquish her claim so quickly.”

  More ineffectual wriggling. “I never said I wanted to give you up. I never implied that. If anything, I’ll be the one who’s left out in the cold when you two finally realize what you could be having.”

  “Let’s put a stopper in that reasoning, shall we? I’d like this to be the last time I have to hear it.” Esteben hauled Erin up to his shoulder and marched her toward the truck.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Apparently, we’re going to shackle you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He didn’t respond. He just set her up into the back of the truck along with all the bags from the ship, and Headron hopped
up and pulled her to the rear.

  Esteben climbed in, gave the side of the truck a double-tap, and Allan got them moving.

  “We were going to be fair and wait a few more months until you’d found your footing, but why wait? Maybe Murki and Trigrian were onto something when they said making Courtney a mother keeps her out of trouble. Perhaps it’s time for you to put your troublemaking days behind you.”

  “That’s not the way relationships work,” she said.

  “You lost your expert status on that matter when you assumed that we’d discard you having taken one look at the newcomer.”

  “I did not!”

  “Well, we’re simply making sure you don’t, then.”

  Erin folded her arms over her chest and shut her mouth tight.

  They would certainly try to keep her mind on track, and she damn sure wasn’t going to say anything to deter them. That would just take all the fun away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “I really should be with my grandfather right now.”

  Esteben ignored Erin’s protest and set her into the middle of his unmade bed. “Take off your clothes.”

  “No.”

  Headron dropped the latch into place on the door and then moved to the window at the side of the cottage. He lowered the glass and pulled the shutters closed. “Are you asking us to undress you, then, Erin?”

  “No.”

  “You need to be naked.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to be.”

  “Fine,” Esteben said. He didn’t care one way or another if she were fully dressed or if her pants pooled at her ankles while he bent her over.

  Actually not a bad idea.

  He stripped off his tunic and his pants, forgoing any acts of seduction. Headron certainly wouldn’t care. Like Esteben, he needed very little stimulus for arousal. Erin was a harder prospect. She needed special handling. She needed to not only be told what to do, but to sometimes be made to do it.

  He unbuttoned her jeans, let down the fly, and then flipped her over before she could object. One yank and her pants were around her thighs and her panties clinging beneath her ass cheeks. He gave the exposed flesh a swat on each side.

  Sighing, she curled her fingers into the blankets.

  “Should she be enjoying your attention, Esteben?” Headron asked. “Or should you be more practical? Looks to me like she’s enjoying herself.”