by Aubrey Ross
“I do not know.” He moved steadily closer, making her feel small and vulnerable. “You are trying to confuse me.”
“Your people would not listen to you, so Venus sent someone else. That doesn’t reflect badly on you. It reveals the foolishness of those who would not listen. If they had heeded your warnings, this relocation would not have been necessary.”
The closer he drew the harder she found it to concentrate. “If you are a priest of Venus, why was I not warned of your coming?”
His brow arched and he leaned his hand against the wall, caging her with his body. “Does she tell you everything she does? I thought you were her servant, not the other way around.”
“That is not the point,” she flared. “Where are the others? Everyone must be terrified. I must comfort them.”
“Everyone is fine. Let’s focus on you. How do you feel? Would you like something to eat? You’ve been in stasis for six days. Do you feel weak?”
Up close, his eyes were captivating. Rings of lighter green made the emerald shimmer. His hair was short on the sides and in back, but the top was left longer, revealing a charming tendency to curl. She’d never seen clothing like his, formfitting yet conservative. Only his long-fingered hands were not covered. Did Venus require him to keep himself hidden from view so she could enjoy his body in private?
The thought sent an odd ache deep into her belly. Surely she did not desire this strange man! She never reacted that way to men. She must be hungry. “What is stasis?” The word echoed back to her as her mind sifted through the unwanted distractions.
“It is a sort of trance or a sleep so deep your bodily functions are turned off for a while.”
“This is not harmful?”
“There can be side effects, but nothing too drastic. Some experience muscle weakness, others hunger or chills. All the side effects are temporary.”
“I see.” Did he have to stand so close to her? It was disquieting.
“All your friends are in stasis right now, so you don’t need to worry about them. How is your head? Do you feel any pain?”
His questions reminded her that the female had said she was fetching a doctor, not a priest. A fresh surge of suspicion set her in motion. She ducked under his arm and ran for the door.
“Felicia, wait. If you go dashing down the corridors, I’ll have to sedate you.”
“Sedate me?” She spun to face him, robes swishing around her legs. “Who are you really? You are no priest. More like a physician.”
“Can’t I be both physician and priest? Many priests have other vocations before they find their calling.”
“I have known priests who claimed to be chosen by Venus. You are nothing like them.”
His gaze searched hers for a moment as if he sensed the wealth of meaning behind her casual comment. But he did not know, could not possibly know the indignities she had suffered in the name of worship. His brows drew together in silent question, but she simply looked away.
“I seem different because my home is very far from yours. Many of our customs are bound to be unusual.”
Shivers shook her shoulders and cramped her upper arms. Was this one of the side effects he had warned her about? “If we are traveling through the sky, show me.” She crossed her arms, rubbing the muscles in an attempt to loosen the painful spasms. “I want to see the stars floating past our sails.” Her teeth were chattering by the time she finished the sentence. “What is wrong with me?”
He slipped past her and left the room. She closed her eyes, thinking she had driven him off with her obstinacy. It served her right. Now she would suffer in solitude.
Blessed warmth settled around her shoulders and sank into her arms as he wrapped a thick blanket around her body.
“Can you walk?”
She tried to shift her foot forward but her leg refused to respond.
“I’m going to pick you up, all right?” She managed a shaky nod and he swept her into his arms. “Damn. You’re a tiny little thing. Aren’t you?”
Too miserable to argue, she clutched the blanket to her chest and rested her head on his shoulder. She’d never thought of herself as particularly small, but she fit rather well in the cradle of his strong arms. He brought her to the high table and started to place her upon it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung.
“Please.” She sobbed. “I will do whatever you ask. Do not slit my throat.”
He stilled, holding her high against his chest. “Why would I slit your throat?”
It took her a moment to gather her composure enough to meet his gaze. The amusement she found there only added to her confusion. “Is this not an altar?”
“This is not an altar.” Very slowly he sat her down. “No one will hurt you, Felicia. I won’t let them.”
He touched a marked area on the edge of the table and the section behind her lifted, angling until it pressed against her back. She tried not to react to the wondrous happening, but she could feel her eyes rounding. “Are you a demigod?”
A smile transformed his face. His common features took on princely appeal and she felt surrounded by the intensity of his gaze. Perfectly curved lips framed even, white teeth. Had his mouth always appeared so enticing? She wanted to touch his lips with hers and feel the heated rush of his breath as they shared their first kiss.
“I told you what I am.” His voice dropped as he gazed into her eyes. He didn’t touch her, but the sudden heat in his eyes told her his thoughts were not all that different from hers.
“I do not believe you.”
He chuckled. “All right. You tell me. If I am not here to usher your people to a new home, who am I and why have I accosted you?”
Chapter Two
“I have not yet decided what you are,” Felicia told Aiden, her big blue eyes warm and guileless. “But I do not sense any immediate danger from you.”
“That’s something, I suppose.” Aiden smiled, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from pulling her back into his arms. She’d felt so damn good snuggled against his chest. He hadn’t wanted to set her down. “Are the chills easing? Your teeth have stopped chattering.”
“I am feeling much warmer now.”
Her smooth cheeks were slightly flushed and her soft-looking lips had deepened from pink to rose. She opened her mouth just a little and brushed her tongue over her lower lip. Did his attention make her nervous, or was she wondering what it would feel like to kiss him, to— He gave himself a firm mental shake. She was his patient. He had no business imagining her in his bed. Or on his desk. Or right there on the treatment table.
With a self-reproaching smile, he took a step back. He was spending too much time with Caleb. It wasn’t good for his moral fortitude. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’ve been returning everyone to stasis after a brief examination, but I’d like to leave you conscious. I think it would be comforting for the others to see a familiar face when they awaken to all these changes.”
“You want me to help you perpetuate these lies upon my people?”
She was a feisty little thing. Even surrounded by wonders so inexplicable she’d thought he was a demigod, she remained defiant when it came to her people. How could he honor her dedication without abandoning his role entirely? “What have I told you that was untrue? Pompeii was destroyed. I can show you images of the destruction.”
“I have no doubt it was destroyed. I saw it in my dreams.” She looked down at her hands for a moment then asked, “Are we really on a ship that moves across the sky?”
“That’s easy enough to prove.” Then he thought about the repercussions of being caught with a conscious Pompeiian and sighed. “But I can’t take you out of this room dressed like that. And we will have to be extremely careful.”
She nodded and shrugged off the blanket, so he helped her down from the treatment table. Shika had gone to awaken the next six patients, so he needed to move. They had found the inhabitants responded better when they were awakened in small groups. Adults would sup
press their own fears and focus on children, and men would protect women. The standard social dynamic made it easier for them to insinuate the new information and explain what to expect. So far the Pompeiians had adjusted remarkably well.
The only exception was the clerics. Each time they came across a person dressed in robes, they were awakened individually. They’d identified three priests and six priestesses. Though each had been more inquisitive than the average refugee, only Felicia remained argumentative once he claimed to be empowered by the gods.
“Where are we going?”
He paused in the doorway and checked the corridor. “To my quarters. You can have a quick shower and change into something less conspicuous.”
Suspicion filled her gaze and she twisted out of his grasp. “What is a shower?”
“Like a bath only you stand up and water runs over you like rain.”
“Do you intend to join me in this shower?”
Rather than take offense and add to her uneasiness, he smiled. “Would you like me to?”
“Venus requires that her priestesses remain pure. I am not allowed to consider such things.”
She lowered her gaze, but not before he saw the desire in her eyes. She did more than consider such things. She ached for them, dreamed of them, longed for them. Was she really a virgin, or had she given up “such things” when she dedicated her life to the goddess of love?
“It seems wrong that the goddess of love would forbid you to indulge in passion.”
“It is a sacrifice I am willing to make so others may know her goodness.”
He had no response for that, so he led her into the empty corridor and hustled her toward his room. “After we’ve transformed you into one of the crew, I’ll take you to the officers’ mess. Lunch is over, but dinner is still a couple of hours away. We should have the place to ourselves.”
His quarters were small and orderly, like every cabin on the ship. At least his was private. Most of the crew cabins had four to twelve berths to a room. She looked around, arms folded over her chest. Thankfully the computer was hibernating and the lights only earned a startled glance from her.
He was trying to take it slow, but their worlds were so incredibly different. He’d covered every display in the infirmary before he’d begun the orientations, relying on a handheld scanner. Holo-imaging would seem like magic to a person who had never seen a photograph.
“Let me show you how the shower works. You can then take your time while I scrounge together something for you to wear.”
The utility room was tiny and she was forced up against him as she leaned into the shower stall to view the controls. He instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist, enjoying the warm press of her breasts for as long as she allowed it.
“Does Venus not require purity of you?” She straightened without moving out of his embrace.
“The rules are more realistic on my world.” He moved his hands to her hips. They weren’t in the infirmary now. Did that mean she was no longer his patient? “She encourages us to focus entirely on our duties but understands when our needs are especially strong.”
Her gaze lingered on his mouth, luring, beckoning. She parted her lips as he lowered his head. Then she twisted away. “Apparently what I need is a shower.” She pushed him toward the door. “Find me something to wear.”
His cock jerked in protest as he stepped through the threshold, but there was no help for it. He had way too much to do to indulge in a messy affair. In eighteen days they’d arrive at Fedoros and he would wash his hands of this entire situation.
The buzzer sounded and he looked at the door. “Who’s there?”
“Your brother, asshole. Open the door.”
“Come in.” The door responded to his command and Caleb strode into the room.
“Shika said there was a problem with one of the Pompeiians. What’s going on? Why aren’t you in the infirmary?”
Aiden glanced at the utility room door. Hopefully Felicia would stay inside until he was finished talking with Caleb. He really didn’t want his hound dog of a brother to see the lovely priestess. “No problem. In fact, I’m hoping to have solved the problem we’ve been fighting.”
“The schedule?”
“Exactly. The orientations are taking longer than Xyell allotted us. Grouping the survivors helped, but I’m hoping this, or rather she, will help even more.”
“She?” Caleb perked up and swung his head toward the utility room. “Is someone in your shower?”
“At dinner last night I told you that the name of a priestess kept coming up every time I claimed Venus sent me.”
“Felicity or Phyllis?”
“Felicia,” Aiden corrected. “I found her.”
“Felicia is in your shower?” Caleb looked at the unmade bed and grinned. “Way to go, bro. You work fast.”
“I did not fuck her! You are such an idiot.”
Caleb clasped his hands behind his back and released his devil-may-care façade. “Fine. All kidding aside, how will she help you speed up the orientations?”
“She is well-known and people trust her. And she is perfectly placed to reinforce the story.”
“Does she believe the story?”
“I’m still working on that part.”
“If there is anything I can do to help, you know where to find me.” He turned on the ball of his foot and started to leave. “Is she pretty?” He tossed the question over his shoulder.
“Very.”
“Then keep her away from the crew.”
It wasn’t the response Aiden had expected, but he agreed wholeheartedly with the conclusion.
* * * * *
Quade stood to one side of the doorway in the newly modified crew cabin. Ambassador Xyell had insisted it be kept vacant for his use. He had a luxurious suite on one of the upper decks, so no one was certain what “use” he had in mind. Until the interrogations began. At least Xyell called them interrogations. The true purpose of the sessions was not to gain information but to entertain one seriously twisted ambassador.
Xyell snatched his victims out of the cargo bay immediately after their orientation, which left them especially susceptible to his cruelty. All of the equipment he’d erected was portable, so it was doubtful the Thrax brothers realized their employer was torturing the “cargo”.
As part of Xyell’s private guard, Quade had been forced to watch each session from behind his stoic mask. He was unable to interfere or voice his opinions about the cowardly manipulation Xyell used to coerce his victims into depraved acts, sometimes sexual, sometimes self-deprecating but always incredibly cruel.
Sex was on the agenda today.
A young woman knelt in the middle of the cabin, naked and trembling. Light brown hair obscured her face as she bowed her head and whispered prayers. Xyell circled silently, snapping a riding crop against his boot. Each time the crop struck, she jumped and her breasts jiggled.
Xyell shot him a salacious smile then stopped in front of his victim, partially blocking Quade’s view of her terrified form. He exhaled slowly, mentally scrambling for a way to prevent what was about to unfold.
“You are a priestess of Venus?” Xyell asked.
She shook her head without looking up. “An acolyte, a novice. I am not yet personally empowered.”
“Do you serve a priest or priestess?” He punctuated the question with an especially loud snap.
“Pries…stess.” She dared a glance through the strands of her hair. “I serve a priestess. What have I done to deserve this treatment? Is Venus angry with me?”
“What is your priestess’s name? What does she look like?”
The woman stilled and her head drooped even lower. “I will not betray my priestess. I have never known a better person. I would rather you kill me now.”
“I’m sure you would, but death is not what I have in mind.” He laughed. “Isn’t that right, Quade?”
Dread wrapped around his throat, cold and constrictive. The last thing he wanted
was to become part of these disgusting melodramas.
You’re already a part, his conscience screamed. You stand by silently and allow them to happen. That makes you just as guilty as Xyell.
But what was he supposed to do? If he ran to Captain Thrax, the abuse might stop temporarily. However, Xyell was close friends with Prince Tarhee. The only person who could curtail the misbehavior of the prince was his father the emperor. And Emperor Olla wouldn’t even grant and audience with someone like Quade. These were powerful people, and he was a common soldier.
Xyell turned from the acolyte and strode toward Quade. “Do I sense disapproval?”
“It is not my place to approve or disapprove, Sir. You are my commander. It’s my place to obey.” He spoke in Latin so the woman would understand his position. He would help her if he could, but he was powerless.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He paused for a cruel smile then said, “Disrobe.”
“Sir! I cannot protect you if I become part of the action. I must remain—”
“You must do whatever the fuck you’re told. Now get out of your uniform before I lose my temper.”
He raised his hands to the fastenings at the front of his jacket then stopped. He had silenced his conscience for too long. It was time to make a stand. “This is wrong, Sir. There are better ways to extract information. I cannot participate in this scenario.”
“Really?” Xyell threw back his head and laughed. “This is turning out to be far more entertaining than I ever imagined. I should have tested the defiance in your eyes days ago.”
“Please, Sir, let me speak with her. Maybe I can find a different path to the information you’re seeking.”
“It’s simple, Lieutenant. If you don’t fuck her, you don’t eat. As you know, this room is under continual surveillance, so you can’t just say you did.”
Quade’s hand covered his pulse pistol as his gaze narrowed on the bastard’s face.
“Go on. Kill me.” Xyell spread his arms, brow arched provocatively. “That will place you both at the mercy of Tarhee. If you think my games are twisted, it’s because you’ve never seen the prince in action. I’m a beginner when it comes to debauchery, but thanks to Prince Tarhee, I’m learning.”