While not a true AI, the operating system interface presented as an assistant. Typically, these systems were unobtrusive and nearly invisible unless triggered by keywords or actions. The computer constantly had corrections for Havik’s work, everything from the way he held a wrench to the distance he preferred the pilot’s seat from the console.
Ren found it amusing and refused to reinstall the AI.
With the last major repair completed, Havik took the ship out of the atmosphere and barely felt any turbulence as they left the atmosphere. They docked at an orbiting station because Ren had a craving for fried sea bugs, and they had some time while the ship refueled.
“Try one.” Ren pushed the plate forward.
Havik frowned at the breaded and fried sea bug. “No.”
“It’s a delicacy.”
“We have them on Rolusdreus.”
“Ah, those are wild. These are farmed in tanks right here on the station. They have no space to swim freely, so they’re full of fat, which means flavor. Try one. Unless you do not appreciate flavor?” Ren popped one in his mouth, grinning even as he chewed.
“Their captivity sounds cruel.”
“They are cheap and easy protein for confined spaces.”
“We have ration bars,” Havik said.
“Sand tastes better than those. We should set up a tank.”
The ship did not have enough space but Havik would let the logistics of it defeat Ren. If he protested, the male would devise an overly complex system out of spite.
Curious, Havik tried one. The creature’s flesh was tender and not entirely offensive. “We can leave for Earth when the ship is refueled,” he said.
“And when we arrive at Earth?”
“Find my mate. Bring her home.” He did not know where home would be, exactly, but he refused to go to his father’s clan. There were other Mahdfel clans on Rolusdreus that might accept Havik and Ren. Kaos was not universally beloved, and a warlord unafraid of Kaos’ fury might invite them to join. Politics aside, Rolusdreus remained a harsh environment for his mate. She would not flourish there. “We will find a clan on Earth.”
“And if she will not have you?”
“I am her mate.”
Ren narrowed his eyes. “You’re not the brightest star in the sky, but you are not dumb. Your ex-mate believes you rejected her when she was hurt and vulnerable. Her heart may be closed to you forever.”
Havik knew this. The last year gave him time to reflect on his mating with Vanessa. He cared for her, certainly, and he liked her as a friend. Perhaps his care would have grown into a deeper love with time. He could not say. He had burned for her once, but shouldn’t he be devastated at their separation? At the lies that broke apart their mating?
Absently, he stroked the tattoos on his forearm. They failed to burn. “She is the only thing that has ever been mine. I will find her and make her understand.”
Ren sighed, a troubled look on his face, but he held his tongue.
Chapter 3
Thalia
Rough hands yanked her to her feet and pulled her forward with an iron grip on her elbow. Whatever Joyce laced the tea with left Thalia’s head thick and sticky, like cold oatmeal. Numbly, she put one foot in front of the other, stumbling on the uneven floor. At some point, Nicky’s henchmen put a bag over her head.
Which made no sense. At all.
She already knew Nicky grabbed her and anywhere they took her, she had probably already been and could identify. Besides, it’s not like she was going to get away and file a police report.
Thalia stepped into a puddle, splashing cold water over the top of her socks and soaking the cuff of her jeans. She stumbled, trying to regain her footing, and the man with the grip on her elbow dragged her forward.
Could she recognize where they were? It was cold and she splashed through puddles on the uneven floor. Concrete, probably, but why did she assume they were inside a building? This could be a parking lot. No. She heard a heavy door being pushed open. Probably one of Nicky’s warehouses.
Part of her knew it was a silly waste of energy puzzling out her location, but working the puzzle kept her from panicking and helped clear her head. If Nicky wanted her dead, she would have been dead before she left Joyce’s house. Nicky had a plan, and it wasn’t going to be puppies and rainbows.
“Stay,” a harsh voice commanded. Thalia froze in place while someone removed the hood.
She blinked in the sudden light. Concrete floor. Dingy windows. Humming industrial lighting. Yup, they brought her to one of Nicky’s warehouses.
She stood alone, surrounded by a ring of cameras and three holographic projections. One was human, bald with glasses, while the other two were obviously alien with their purple complexions and horns. Just beyond the ring, Nicky watched her, his face contorted into a deep frown.
A private auction.
“Why can’t the bad guy’s plan ever be puppies and rainbows?” she muttered.
“Quiet,” Nicky snapped.
“This female is scrawny. I requested a female of breeding age,” a voice said, full of static and distortion from the computer translation.
Thalia clenched her fists.
“She didn’t eat all her veggies when she was a kid but she’s fertile and healthy,” Nicky replied.
He motioned for her to turn around. Thalia blinked slowly and pretended not to understand. She had been dosed with something, after all.
Nicky narrowed his eyes and crossed the ring. He grabbed her, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her upper arm and forced her to spin slowly. “Take off the hoodie. Now.”
She unzipped and let the rain-sodden fabric fall to the ground. Her soaked T-shirt plastered against her skin, leaving little to the imagination. Self-conscious, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“No chip. Not registered. No one to report her missing,” Nicky said, yanking down her arms. “How much are you willing to pay for this delicacy? Non-traceable credits only. No trade. I’m not interested in your slutty aliens or whatever.”
A holographic figure leaned forward to get a better view, but he remained in shadows. What little was visible was a swath of pale skin, heavily inked with cryptic symbols. “The female’s coloring is alarming. Is the female toxic or venomous?”
“Yes,” Thalia said.
Nicky slapped her across the face with an open hand. “No. The color is a non-toxic chemical used as decoration.”
“Terran males prefer such coloration?” the shadowy figure asked.
“Oh, yes. It doesn’t look like much on her, but that color will warn off predators and keep your nest safe,” Nicky said.
The shadowy figure hummed and nodded. The inked symbols shifted and slid across his skin.
Alarmed, Thalia stepped back. “Not him,” she said.
Nicky clamped a hand around the back of her neck and steered her forward. “You’ll go with him or any fucking one who will take you off my hands.”
“Just kill me,” she whispered, realizing the depth of the shit she was in. This was happening and she couldn’t think of a way out of it. Not above crying or begging, her body refused to cooperate with the tears. She had no trouble managing the begging. “Please, Nicky, don’t give me to an alien. Please. I’d do anything you want. Please.”
Trying to twist around to look him in the eyes, his hand squeezed her neck and kept her firmly in place. His hot and fetid breath curdled against her ear. “You hear that? She’s so eager for you, gentlemen. She’ll be a good breeder for you.”
The bidding commenced. The aliens shouted out numbers too fast for the computer to translate. Eventually, Nicky nodded, satisfied at the price.
“She’ll be delivered when the funds are received,” Nicky said, handing her off to a minion.
They pushed her toward a large glass coffin. She recognized a stasis chamber, but she could not convince her brain that it was anything other than a coffin. If she went in, she’d never wake up.
Thalia went sl
ack, forcing the minion to drag her full weight. She refused to go easily. He shoved her in, knocking her head on the edge of the chamber. “Ow! Fuck you,” she snapped.
The minion smiled, his broken teeth stained yellow and brown. “Sweet dreams.”
The door sealed shut with a hiss. Something pricked the back of her neck. A computer counted down.
Five…
Four…
Three…
Havik
The ship, while capable, was not fast. The journey to Earth stretched out. Frequent stops, necessary for fuel and repairs, added time. Teleportation gates might have shaved time off their journey, but Havik did not trust the ship to withstand the stress of using a gate.
“My hair will be white by the time we arrive,” Havik grumbled.
“We’d be there by now if we’d utilized a gate,” Ren said, his faith in the ship never shaken by frequent repairs.
“We’d be drifting in the deep black with no life support.”
“Earth has a gate now.”
“No gates.”
“What is the point of having a gate if we can’t use it?” Ren ran a frustrated hand through his short hair, drawing attention to the white lock at his temple. “And you should be so lucky to have white hair. Females find it irresistible.”
Havik highly doubted that but he did wonder at Ren’s urgent need to arrive at Earth. Havik had a lost mate to retrieve and honor to restore. He wasn’t sure what Ren expected to gain from the journey.
Just when Havik could no longer stand the sound of his friend’s voice, they arrived at Earth. Terrans, apparently, enjoyed bureaucracy. Docking at the station on the moon required a permit, which required a reason for his visit. Havik struggled with the form as there was no box to check next to “Reclaim honor and right a past wrong against his mate.” Instead he ticked off tourist.
Ren downloaded an Earth guidebook and spouted facts about Terrans, or humans as they liked to be called. “Their bodies are mostly water, and their planet is also mostly water. They must be very moist.” Ren lowered his tablet. “I do not think I would enjoy that.”
Then he added, “I found amusing photographs of Terrans in the extreme cold pretending to eat food, but it has already frozen. Look, the utensil for the noodles is frozen in midair. It is amusing.” Ren grinned. “Terrans are humorous. You cannot eat that.”
And, “Terrans have an evolutionary obligation to protect their young and they find other beings with the features of infants to be cute. Large eyes. Disproportionate heads on small bodies. Lesser species have evolved to have their young mimic the features of Terran infants. Fascinating. This is an infant feline. It is adorable. I need one.”
“We will not acquire a feline,” Havik said.
“The guide says they excel at killing vermin. Do you like vermin? Is that why you do not want a feline? It is fine. We will discuss this later.”
He knew it was a lost battle.
Havik stood outside the squat, ugly building. Earth was a cold planet with too much humidity in the air, a ludicrous amount of water, but the sunshine took away the worst of the chill.
Ren, apparently, loved being frozen. With both fists on his hips, he took a deep breath and sighed with pleasure. “You can smell rain. How wild is that? And Terrans have a word for it: petrichor.” He took another exaggerated breath. “Earth is amazing.”
Havik had a differing opinion but kept his mouth shut.
Earth had proven to be a frustrating, backward planet. Vanessa could not be reached with the contact information Havik had. He tried to remember if she had family, but he was as bad as Ren had said and selfishly never bothered to ask about her life on Earth. Vanessa had mentioned attending university, but Earth held thousands of such institutions. How could a male find one female out of the billions on Earth? It was an impossible task made more difficult by his past actions, or lack of curiosity in his mate.
The Earth authorities requested their presence. No doubt a pair of clan-less Mahdfel warriors asking after a missing female caught their attention.
Havik shivered at the artificially cooled air inside the building. Earth was a terrible place, and he could not wait to leave once he found his lost mate. He gave his name to the Terran at the front desk and was admitted through a series of locked doors and down a long corridor. Eventually, the escort waved a key card above a sensor and opened the final door.
A Rolusdrean male waited in the room. Large, his complexion a deep red, he seemed to occupy the entire room, despite standing in the far corner. He gave Havik an assessing look. Despite the shrewd gaze, Havik’s spirits lifted at the presence of another Mahdfel from his planet.
“Son of a warlord come to make his path. You have Kaos’ stubborn jaw,” the male said. “I hope that is all you share with him.”
“You know my father?”
“I’ve had the displeasure.”
“Then you will understand me when I say that male is no father to me,” Havik said.
“And the other one,” the male said, turning his attention to Ren.
Ren glanced at Havik and whispered, “Was that supposed to intimidate me?”
The male waved toward the tiny, Terran-sized chairs at the table. “Sit. It is not easy being the son of a warlord, but I suspect I know how Kaos drove away his only son.”
“And the other one,” Ren added. He leaned over to Havik and dramatically whispered, “I’m helping.”
“You are not,” Havik said, irritation creeping into his voice. He needed to be taken seriously by the Earth authorities. The older warrior standing opposite them already knew their reputations, hinted that he knew why they left their clan and planet, and probably judged them to be immature youths. Ren’s banter only reinforced the perception of immaturity.
The other male folded his arms behind his back and waited.
“My mate—” The words dried up on his tongue. He had rehearsed this speech so often over the long journey, his plea to retrieve his lost mate, but now it seemed inadequate. The male’s assessing attitude made Havik feel as if he stood on shifting sands.
Havik placed his hands flat on the table and leaned forward. “I suspect you already know. My mate was the only thing that was truly mine, and Kaos sent her back to Earth without my knowledge.”
“And the female is missing.”
“Yes.” Havik leaned back in the inadequately small chair. He ran a hand absently down his long braid of hair and flipped it over his shoulder. “I find Terran information systems to be highly frustrating. How can anyone navigate such empty noise?”
The door opened. A Terran female strode through, holding a tablet, and sat opposite him at the table. She did not acknowledge the male standing behind her, but their body language made it clear they had a connection. “It’d be easier if you had good information: friends, family, the usual.”
“I had good information,” he said.
“You had a name and not much else.” The female flipped through screens on the tablet. “I’m Agent Novak, by the way. You’ve met my mate, Vadi Kol.”
The male nodded at Havik, resting a far-from-subtle hand on Agent Novak’s shoulder.
Ren sat up straight in his chair. Havik did not have to ask if his friend recognized the male’s name, because Havik recognized it himself. His father had ranted often enough about the disgraceful son of a rival warlord, the one who mated a Terran and remained on Earth. While he had never believed the malicious statements his father said, Havik wondered how many of those were true.
Agent Novak focused on Ren. “I ran a search for Lorene Ball. She was matched.”
Ren’s shoulders slumped. “I am too late.”
“Too late for what?” Havik asked. Who was Lorene Ball?
“Can you tell me who her mate is? What clan?”
“Privacy regulations will not let me,” she said, then turned her attention to Havik. “You also lost your mate.”
Havik shared a glance with Ren. He had so many questions. Ren lost a mate a
nd never told him? “My warlord lied to me and claimed she had died.”
The agent nodded. Her curly hair had been gathered behind her ear, but a few strands escaped and framed her face. “And she filed for divorce.”
“That I do not understand. How can my mate no longer be my mate if I did not agree to dissolve our mating?” That had puzzled him for months now.
“Ex-mate and it’s called a default divorce. It’s a provision in the Earth-Mahdfel Treaty.” She returned her attention to the tablet.
“I did not agree to the divorce.”
“You agreed to abide by the treaty when you took your mate, so tough nuts, but that’s not why we’re here. Your ex-mate is missing.”
“I said that,” Havik groused.
“No, what you actually said was your mate was your property and she was returned to Earth without your permission, and you don’t like Earth much. Sound about right?” She tilted her head to one side and gave him an exaggerated frown. She continued, without waiting for his reply. “We believe your ex-mate is no longer on Earth. We have records of her arrival and processing, including medical evaluation—”
“Her health—” He needed to know what the evaluation said.
“Alive.” Agent Novak gave him a flat, bored look. “I’m restricted by law from divulging private medical information.”
“She is my mate.”
“Ex-mate,” Ren whispered.
“This is helpful. Let’s talk about restrictions.” She set the tablet computer down and rested her elbows on the table. “Your ex-mate is no longer on Earth, and we believe she may have been taken against her will. We have records of your ex-mate enrolling in a university and attending classes, doing very well, by the way, until she didn’t. No disenrollment. She just stopped going to class. Gone. Hardly the behavior of a model student. It’s almost as if she was kidnapped.”
“Who would take her? Why?”
“Lots of reasons. No family to notice her missing.”
“The university noticed.”
“And kicked out a failing student. Vanessa wouldn’t be the first student to drop out of college. But no family. That’s telling me she was targeted, but I have no evidence of Vanessa being anything other than a student who decided that college wasn’t for her.” The agent spread her hands in a helpless gesture, then nudged the tablet across the table. “I could have a list of all the ships that docked and left Earth in a two-week window when she vanished from school, but with no evidence that anything criminal happened, I cannot get a warrant to examine their manifests or logs, much less walk on board and take a look around.”
Havik: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Sangrin Book 9) Page 5