by Amanda Milo
Qolt hunches, hissing.
Oquilion lets Ekan up, and Ekan moves to attack—but Tiernan catches him before he can go after his sibling. Always a wise Na’rith, Tiernan suggests, “Why don’t you find Beth? Tell her what’s happened and get some of her loving and soothing.”
Ekan relaxes, clearly warming up to this lovely-sounding plan fast. “I have something to show her anyway,” he says.
Tiernan grimaces. “Tell her; not me.”
Ekan snorts, patting his chest where his dented nippleguard sits. “Never you mind, Tiernan. Seeing what I have for Beth would surely lay you low. Count yourself lucky!”
Tiernan’s brows twitch, his expression otherwise placid. “I do.”
As Ekan disappears into the ship, I call to the woman who has been hesitating to ascend up the ramp any further. “Greyycee?”
The female stops dead, her body tensing everywhere. “Yeah?”
I look from her to Pasutha, because although she doesn’t seem taken with him, she does trust him to keep her safe. “Tell us when you two are feeling up to replacing your translators. It’ll require extraction of the models you’re wearing now, and the site will be tender for a few days—but then you’ll be able to converse with just about anybody, including each other.”
“Goody,” Greyycee says. Then her interest turns even more reserved. “What’s it going to cost me?”
Understanding precisely what fee she fears we’d exact, I give her a sad smile. “On the house, female.”
At the top of the ramp at last, Pasutha bends his neck, respect in the gesture even more because I know the significance showing the back of one’s neck is in his culture. “Thank you, Prow.” He looks to the others. “And crew.”
I start to wave him off, then I bring my shoulder against his in an affectionately rough fashion. “Wading in to save the day is what friends are for. I’m glad we got there in time.” Glancing in Greyycee’s direction, I ask him, “Are you and she—”
Pasutha’s neck frill tightens against his skin. “I was beginning heat,” he says, voice going a little ragged at the edges. “I went to the Dome. I was directed to Greyycee. She was compliant, but she only serviced me because she felt she had to, not because she wants me. If I hadn’t been in heat, I’d never have lain with her. Not if she didn’t want me there.” His gills snap shut, and he shakes his head sharply. “So to answer your question; no—I’m fairly certain she hates me.”
I lick my teeth. “Actually, I was asking if you and she were feeling hungry.”
Pasutha’s face drops into his hands. He curses quietly to himself.
Proving she understands he’s struggling with guilt even if she doesn’t grasp all his foreign-to-her-translator’s words, Greyycee sighs. “I don’t know about you, but I could eat. Come on Flipper.”
Startled, Pasutha straightens, then looks back at me, uncertain. When Greyycee impatiently motions him forward, he follows.
So do I. “Sutha?” I ask.
“Hm?”
“If you ever come across another female that didn’t consign herself willingly, we have a luck source we can lend you.” I clap him on the back.
Pasutha nods gravely. “I would appreciate the use of his abilities for escape next time.”
“He’d help,” I assure him. “Our luck source is cog-damn near untouchable.” I shrug. “Just don’t let him drown.”
Gracie throws a sardonic look over her shoulder. “This is gonna be good. It was a long way up from the ocean floor.” A puckish grin forms over the previously tense set of her mouth. “Ask this guy how he gave me oxygen.”
CHAPTER 44—EKAN
EKAN
Returning from Pasutha’s rescue, I’m ready for my bed, and my Beth. But somehow, my visions of curling up comfortably with my mate (after I make her dance with me to see her smile and celebrate the gift I’ve brought her) and asking her if she’s interested in soothing me (or letting me soothe her—I’m not picky and both sound equally titillating) goes to hells fast. I find a female in my room—but she’s not mine.
“Uhh…” I stumble to a halt. Tevek, I’m sore, I’m tired, and my brain is two beats behind sluggish as I try to understand why this stranger came to the bed my mate shares with me. It’s a luvuud, one of the females we rescued from the pleasure ship. She flutters her unbelievably long lashes in my direction, a luvuud come-hither signal. They extend well past her cheeks, like dark-spiked wings. I suppose they’re fetching in an odd sort of way, if you can get past the distraction. “Don’t luvuud’s believe that a mating bed is sacrosanct? Get the tevek out,” I grate—surprising even myself with how aggressive the eviction order comes, but I’m instantly furious that she’s dared to attempt taking over my mate’s place.
The luvuud bows her head submissively. “My apologies. I got lost.”
Lie. Hearing it, my ears sling forward, the tips quivering as I survey the room.
They land on the cubby where Beth keeps her necklace. The now-empty cubby. Maybe Beth’s out and about wearing it. Or maybe this luvuud came here to avail herself of everything that wasn’t nailed down.
Irritation flares in me, atypical because I so rarely feel it for anyone who's not Qolt. This is coupled with a near inconceivable physical discomfort at this stray’s nearness.
Holy craters. I might be joining Oquilion in being a mate-locked male.
I adopt a stern expression. It feels odd all over my face. “Before you go, I’ll give you the opportunity to return my mate’s belongings peaceably.” When the female doesn’t immediately move, I decide it’s time to retrieve Beth’s possessions by force. I snatch the luvuud by the throat with one hand, and reach the fingers of my other hand into her cleavage.
I’m a Na’rith: I have fast fingers. It takes less than a click of exploration before I draw out Beth’s necklace—but it feels cog-damned wrong to be brushing anything of mine on anything belonging to anyone but my female. I don’t like how this makes me feel. If I’m due to feel guilt over something, I have plenty of cocked-up actions to draw regret from—I don’t need anyone else assisting me in teveking up.
This feels as if I’m doing something unforgivable.
As Beth has already proven, humans have sensitive enough snouts to detect other females, and not only has my hand been on a stray female, I’ve had my hands on her in the bed Beth and I share.
Cog-damn it! This scenario will not make my Beth pleased, and I question if I should try to explain—and risk having her doubt my integrity—or if I should do the easier thing and burn my bedding, pitch my mattress, and move rooms.
And perhaps the luvuud sees the bitter indignation and flaring resentment in my eyes, because she cowers now, and this time, it’s genuine. I can smell her fear.
Normally, I wouldn’t take it too personally that someone tried to lift something from me; I might kick their teveking ass, but I’d know it wasn’t personal. If a Na’rith sees something pretty—we take it. It’s our nature.
However. Na’riths do have some scruples. Stealing from a spawn-heavy female just seems… unsportsmanly.
Plus. This is Beth’s.
None too gently, I drag the female to the edge of the bed. “No one steals from a Na’rith but a Na’rith. Have you heard that before?” At her slow nod, I jerk her to her feet. “Did you lift anything else? And so help me, if you’ve crammed anything up your vent, tell me now. Lie to me, and you’re going to have a scope rammed so far up your insides you’ll be choking on it.” I lick my teeth. “This is a friendly warning that you don’t want me to get upset while I’ve got you pinned on the exam table doing an exploratory, deevy?”
The luvuud loses her color and swallows. “J-just an anklet—that’s all!”
I haul her up so that we’re nose-to-nose. “Take. It. Off.”
I know exactly which ankle bracelet she’s taken because Beth’s only been holding on to one—she can’t wear it at the moment but she’s been looking forward to the day she won’t be spawn-swollen. Nevermind the
fact that her mates plan to swive her as often as possible so she’s likely to find herself in this predicament again; this is the bracelet she hand-picked out of the treasure room and this is the one she’ll wear. Just as long as I can remove all traces of the interloper. Metal cleans. She won’t be chased away from her possessions because another dared to touch them.
The luuvud cowers, but doesn’t move to returning the anklet, either because she’s truly overwhelmed with fear, or because she’s got plans. Before I crouch, I warn her in a deadly voice, “Kick me, and I’ll whip you out of airlock.”
Her leg twitches, but she believes me, because she doesn’t kick out, and luuvuds have strong legs. If she managed to nail me, she’d probably succeed in breaking all the bones in my face. Temper cooling slightly, I stand to my full height, anklet cupped in my palm, my other hand secured around her throat. “Let’s go.”
The woman’s smile turns from slight panic to coy flirtation. “Wait! Let me make this up to you. I could—”
I shake her. Hard. “Don’t. Do we need to visit the infirmary together?”
Mutely, the woman shakes her head in wild negation.
“Because like I said—unless I need to send the scope up your flesh pocket to retrieve something else my mate values, there isn’t a cog-damned thing you can do for me. Are we on the same frequency?”
She starts nodding jerkily, and I begin dragging her to the door a little faster than she can walk to keep up. “If I find you in any of our rooms again, I’ll collar you and tie you to the thermoelectric generator for the remainder of our skyflight, understood?”
I escort her all the way back down to the quarters in the lower decks that we’ve given the females, and with a parting glare, I dump her there.
Attempting to shake off the dregs of my irritation, I stalk back up four decks and stumble into our room.
I almost trip over Beth.
“Whoa!” she laughs as I catch her tightly and steady us both.
“Sorry,” I mumble into her mane, my eyes straying to the bed.
Beth rests her forehead against my chest, opposite the side that I’m wearing my life-saving spoon. “You’ve been pretty well behaved today. I thought maybe you’d like a special goodnight.”
I curl over her and groan into her mane. “Yes—but no.” I want to reveal the spoon. I want to tell her all about another harrowing adventure. I want to make her laugh.
But that’s not going to happen.
Without warning, Beth turns rigid.
Positive I know why, I don’t try to clutch her tighter when she backs away from me like I’ve just been diagnosed with a communicable disease. “Narra,” I plead, meeting her eyes, which are so full of hurt and disbelief that my heart pangs in reaction, “I’m going to beg you for the chance to explain.”
Beth’s nodding—the motion too wide and too fast. “You have five minutes to prepare what you need to explain—or to prep what your last words are going to be. I’m getting Tiernan.”
And with that, she backs away from me, and all but races out of our room.
Tilting my head back, I groan at the ceiling; so frustrated the sound emerges like a roar.
Well that went well.
CHAPTER 45—TIERNAN
TIERNAN
Ekan stands an energy grenade’s tossing distance away—silent and stricken. Two things anyone can attest are very un-Ekan-like.
I’m here because Beth came to me seeking a mediator. She babbled that she was fairly certain Ekan had a decent explanation, but in case she was too hormonally emotional—her wording—she wanted a third party with a level-head present when she heard him out.
Also, in the event that Ekan doesn’t have a good reason, she wanted someone who stood a chance at devising a way to thrash a luck source.
We’ve just stepped into his room which smells of female—and the scent doesn’t belong to Beth.
But before Ekan can say a word, we’re interrupted by a piercing screech splitting the air.
It’s followed by a low, masculine hiss. Qolt’s words jig-jag down the panels of the corridor, carrying right to us. “What did I tell you about screaming? You get the urge; you tell me—I’ll help you make it authentic.”
There’s a knife’s *snick.*
“Go ahead. Scream.”
Wisely, the female doesn’t scream again.
For having such a pretty face, he speaks a mean game, our Qolt.
Beth’s been clutching me like a lifeline, but hearing this, she takes a step forward, troubled—but Ekan holds his hands out in a silent bid for us to stall, a hopeful smile creeping across his face.
Qolt’s voice is closer. “Get up and walk willingly—or I can kick you there. Your choice.”
There’s a pained whimper.
Qolt’s turned almost conversational. “You know how some beings try to avoid killing females? Makes them feel guilty.”
They’re right outside the room now, we can hear the woman’s gaspy, panicked breathing.
Qolt though, sounds like he’s almost enjoying his surly self. “It’s never made me feel guilty yet.”
My ears twitch. Qolt’s never killed a female in his lifespan, so I suppose he’s telling the truth—of course he has no reason to feel guilty yet.
Qolt rounds the corner, dragging a luuvud female with him. “Found this in my room, admiring my knife collection with sticky fingers.” Unceremoniously, he drops her to the floor. “Find you in my room again, I won’t be nice. Deevy?”
Ekan whoops, the sound as much an exhalation of relief as it is happiness. “She’s already been warned.” He meets Beth’s gaze. “This luuvud got on that bed,” he points to it, “Cleaned out your jewelry, and the only reason I touched her was to get it back.” He holds up his hands as if displaying them. “Nothing more to it than that.” Ekan spares Qolt a look next, a grateful one, before he turns to the woman, clucking his tongue. “I can’t decide if you’ve got dauntless bravery—or stupidity.” He crouches down in front of her. “You like skulking about and lifting things?”
The woman doesn’t speak.
Ekan takes out one of his knives, and almost idly runs the side of his thumb over the blade as if this move helps him think. “We’ve promised you women an all expenses-free skyferry to Vfayr. New lives, new opportunities. Freedom. When you’ve asked for something, we’ve given it.” He pierces her with an unimpressed look. “And this is how you treat us? You’re a hand-biter.”
Qolt offers, “If you’re going to cut her, I have a bigger knife.”
Beth narrows her eyes at Qolt, and the corners of his lips twitch.
I’m waiting for Ekan to contend the ‘bigger knife’ part, but it seems he’s feeling a soft spot for his sibling on account of Qolt’s timing in reporting the female’s attempted theft and her prowling of his room. “Nay brother—if we’re going to make permanent marks on a female, I’ve been looking for just the right woman to freeze brand.” He turns a wink on Beth. “I have a special spot in mind and everything.”
“I predict his bed is going to be very cold tonight,” I mutter.
“Downright chilly,” agrees Beth. “He may never enjoy a special spot again.”
The woman sneers around at us. “Your plan is to marry us off to a bunch of poor farmers!”
Cooly, Ekan defends his friend. “The Iechydmaw are simple farmers, that’s true. Not duplicitous thieves.” His eyes are hard as he stares into hers. “Or thieving whores.”
Beth and I grimace for the luuvud, but she sort of had that coming.
The luuvud swallows and turns her head away.
“What’s your name?” Ekan asks. When she refuses to speak, he sucks air through his teeth, slapping his hands on his thighs before standing tall. “Well then! You don’t want to be paired with a lowly farmer, and we don’t want to saddle a good Iechydmaw male unawares with a light-fingered mate.” He tips his head in a deceptively playful goodbye. “Thus, I have a deal to broker. Pardon me,” he says jovially, politely, befor
e he jerks his chin at Beth. “Narra? Are we in tune again?”
Folding her arms over her stomach, she crosses to him. They stare at each other for a long moment before enveloping one another in a hug.
Beth draws back slightly, a perplexed look on her face. “Ekan? Are you wearing a spoon under your shirt?”
CHAPTER 46—BETH
BETH
When I hear we’re making plans to pause our trek to Breslin’s farm in favor of hooking up with another ship, at first, I think the guys have found a new mark they can’t pass up.
What they have in mind is an impromptu meeting with a bachelor Na’rith crew. Ekan contacted them and asked if they were looking for a non-Na’rith mate who’d probably try to loot them blind and escape.
They said they love a challenge. I guess that’s a big yes.
Na’riths are crazy.
When my guys dragged the luvuud closer to the Comm screen they were chatting to the other crew on, she spat on their holograms, and they were instantaneously besotted with her—or so I’m told.
Na’riths are crazy!
I thought we’d have this whole day of revelry while two Na’rith crews got together and partied, but my guys were not keen on having other pirates aboard our ship—or keen on having them meet me at all.
A different woman might have been upset about this, but I trust my guys. If they think for even a second that their ‘friends’ would see me and steal me or give me grief, then I’d just as soon stay behind and basically hide. While I’m hiding, I decide to make good use of my free time and finally meet the other human on this ship. The guys warned me away the day she got here, saying she wasn’t in a very good headspace.
I can't even imagine.
Armed with caramel iiwykia that I had to go to great lengths to sneak from the tank when Tiernan got too busy to hawkwatch me, I knock on her door.
A wary alien answers it. An Aneark, the guys called him, an aquatic-dwelling alien, at least in preference. He’s sure out of the water on this ship. “Hello,” he says politely. “You must be Beth. I’m Pasutha.”