by Ivy Barrett
“This is so much bigger than you know.” His gaze narrowed and ruthless purpose flared to life within his eyes. “The human genome is remarkably accommodating to changes and its resilience is unsurpassed. The combination makes their DNA easy to reengineer. It also makes them excellent breeders of hybrid offspring. We are not the first to learn this fact. However, my predecessors kept running into an obstacle they weren’t able to overcome. There is a protein in human blood that is highly toxic to many, if not most, other species.”
“The Rh factor.”
It wasn’t a question, but Narrn said, “Yes. Try as they might, none of the researchers who went before me were able to determine the specific protein, much less find out that there are also human females out there born without the protein.”
“Why do I care about all this medical history?”
“Because, you fool, these human females aren’t just compatible with us. They’re compatible with hundreds of species, perhaps thousands.”
Tarlon struggled to conceal his shock. The implications of that revelation were staggering. “And my question remains. How were Roberta and her father going to benefit from this compatibility?”
“You suffer from a shocking lack of imagination,” Narrn muttered. “Ventor isn’t the only planet the Skarilians have decimated. Far from it. They are a scourge and they must be stopped. The only way to accomplish that is to attack and keep attacking until every last one of the worthless bastards is dead.”
Tarlon had heard it all before. Wiping out the Skarilians had become an obsession for many within the Protectorate. They no longer cared about the future, or anything else. All they wanted was revenge. “So they use the females to barter for more fighters?” It made a sick sort of sense. The Ventori would do almost anything for a fertile female capable of bearing Ventori offspring. At least the ones who cared about such things. How many other species would feel the same?
“The Ventori no longer possess wealth, but that’s not the case for others.” Narrn had relaxed completely. He pressed back into the chair, looking thoughtful and determined. “Roberta and her mystery backer—Minister Zapt apparently—intended to sell the females to victims of the Skarilians or mercenaries. Minister Zapt’s motivation is building a force large and powerful enough to finally annihilate the Skarilians. We both know the Protectorate is incapable of doing so on our own.”
“And Roberta?”
“Greed. There’s no mystery there. The Skarilians murdered two thirds of her customer base. She needed a new revenue stream.”
And all the pieces fell into place. “Where are they likely to have gone?”
Narrn looked him in the eyes and shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine. Apparently, I’m just the fall guy.”
Chapter Eleven
Tarlon was thrilled with the outcome of the interrogation. He hadn’t expected a big reaction from the prickly Celestian and he didn’t get one. Moments after Tarlon explained what he’d learned to Sintar and LeAuntiez, LeAuntiez loaded Narrn back onto his ship and departed.
“Nice to see you too, asshole,” Tarlon muttered as LeAuntiez’s sleek fighter sped away.
Sintar smiled. “He’s having a bad day. Zapt had him chasing shadows for hours before he finally slipped away. LeAuntiez doesn’t like to lose.”
Tarlon glared at his brother. “I can’t believe you’re defending him.”
Rather than irritate him further, Sintar said, “Did you have to probe Narrn? I know you hate having to use your abilities like that.”
“I did not. Our lovely mate suggested I focus on other strategies and it worked really well. Of course, Zapt and Roberta had set me up perfectly with their betrayal. Narrn felt like a fool and a wounded pride is a powerful motivator.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.” Thrilled that it was over, at least for them, Tarlon rolled his shoulders and stretched out his neck. “How did they find out about Zapt?”
“The usual way. Zapt ran his mouth to one of the Brokvata thinking he could recruit him for the rebellion.”
“Which one?” Tarlon didn’t know them all, but each one was a force to be reasoned with and many were ruthlessly ambitious.
“Urrya,” Sintar smirked. “Talk about delusions of grandeur.”
Tarlon shook his head. Urrya was LeAuntiez’s half-brother and they were both faultlessly loyal to the Protectorate in general and Chancellor Savator in particular. Thinking anyone could convince Urrya to turn traitor was ridiculous. But it would have been one hells of an achievement if it had worked.
“Urrya immediately told LeAuntiez and you know the rest,” Sintar concluded.
“Do we need to update the chancellor?”
Sintar shrugged. “I’ll comm him from home. Detail everything in your report and we should be set.”
“Oh, goodie. I just love reports.”
Sintar laughed then slapped him on the back. “Now you’ll need a new mission. LeAuntiez will hunt down Zapt and it’s more than likely that the human doctor is with him.”
Tarlon narrowed his gaze and absently stroked his jaw as an astonishing detail resurfaced in his mind. “LeAuntiez shouldn’t have left in such a hurry.”
“And why is that?”
“I impulsively added a tracker module to the combots we used on Roberta and Narrn. If they’re together, I should be able to tell LeAuntiez their exact location.”
Muttering an especially vile Ventori curse, Sintar turned around and sprinted back into the school. Off-world communications required a more powerful transmitter than their control bands and LeAuntiez was airborne right now.
They charged into Sintar’s office and Tarlon connected with the workstation at their house while Sintar opened a secure commlink with LeAuntiez’s ship.
“Miss me already?” Apparently the progress they’d made had started to lighten the Celestian’s mood.
“The female doctor isn’t just bugged, she’s tagged,” Sintar announced. “If they’re together, Tarlon has their location.”
“And you waited until now to tell me?” He did not sound pleased by the omission.
“Tarlon was focused on Narrn.”
And you were being an asshole, Tarlon added silently.
Sintar looked at Tarlon. “Do you have her location or not?”
“I’ve got her.” He rattled off the coordinates loud enough for LeAuntiez to hear.
“Copy that. Well done.”
Damn, that was high praise coming from the notoriously silent Celestian.
LeAuntiez ended the comm without further comment and Tarlon couldn’t help but smile. “I really don’t understand why Savator likes him so much.”
“You don’t believe the rumors?” Sintar told his workstation to hibernate and looked at Tarlon.
“Do I think they fuck? Not a chance. Do you?”
Sintar laughed. “Not a chance,” he agreed. “Bronsen Savator likes pussy too much.”
Well, Sintar would know. They’d gone through training together and they were both founding members of the Protectorate. Still, Tarlon understood the speculation. The chancellor and LeAuntiez were unusually close, even for podmates.
“Is Nikki still at home?”
Tarlon nodded. They didn’t like to let her out of their sight, but she had insisted that she could walk back and forth between their house and the school without an escort. Unable to come up with a believable rationale for not allowing the compromise, they’d reluctantly agreed.
“She’s determined to recreate one of the confections her mother used to make,” Tarlon explained. “Lydia, the kitchen supervisor, gave her enough supplies for three attempts. If Nikki can’t make it work within the three, she has to wait until the supply ship comes at the end of next week.”
“Lydia is worth her weight in gold,” Sintar commented. “She has stretched our limited resources farther than I ever believed possible.”
They left the school together for a change and returned to their house. When Sintar pushed
the front door open, they both paused and inhaled deeply.
“That smells amazing,” Sintar murmured and Tarlon agreed.
“I did it!” Nikki hurried out of the kitchen and gave them each an enthusiastic hug. “At least I think I did. I won’t know until it cools, but it sure looks like my mother’s caramel apple pie.”
“Where did you get caramel?” Tarlon wanted to know. One of his Earth missions had been during the human holiday called Halloween. The chewy little cubes had been sitting out on the reception desk at the hotel in which he’d stayed. Tarlon found the sweet, buttery treat addictive.
“I had to make it from scratch. Martha Stewart, eat your heart out.”
He had no idea who Martha Stewart was, but she was clearly proud of herself.
Nikki had enjoyed her career before the war, so Tarlon had been concerned that she would resent the domestic nature of many of the tasks the females were doing, but she didn’t seem to mind. She pitched in wherever she was needed and took pride in keeping their house neat and clean. She was easily pleased and very nurturing. Tarlon was sure she would make an amazing mother when, and if, she ever decided she was ready for them to claim her.
“Did you eat something?” Sintar asked as they all went to the kitchen. “Tarlon and I ate with the others.”
She waved away his concern. “I had a sandwich about an hour ago. Stop worrying about me.” She looked at Tarlon, expression suddenly serious. “Did you have to use the mind probe?”
“I did not.” He placed his hands on her upper arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “A wise woman told me I could succeed without compromising my principles, so I depended on more traditional interrogation strategies.”
“I’m so glad.” She went up on tiptoes and kissed his mouth. He tried to prolong the kiss, but she wiggled away. “Pie first, then we’ll play.”
She asked them to sit at the kitchen table, then proudly served them each a triangular piece of the dessert.
“It’s a little on the runny side,” she complained, her mouth gathering into an adorable pout. “I should have waited longer to cut it.”
Likely motivated by her disappointment, Sintar bravely took the first bite. Tarlon watched him closely, trying to decide how much acting this would require. Sintar’s gaze narrowed as he chewed and then his eyes nearly rolled back into his head.
“It’s absolutely delicious.”
Unsure if he was being honest or simply trying to spare her feelings, Tarlon took a tentative bite. He wasn’t overly fond of sweets, but the pie was also tangy and richly buttery from the caramel. “He’s right, love. It’s delicious. Your mother would be proud.”
She grinned from ear to ear, obviously pleased by their praise and her accomplishment. After serving herself a much smaller piece, she joined them at the table. “Did you learn anything interesting from Narrn? Where is he, by the way? I know a bunch of females who would love a few minutes alone with him.”
“Tarlon here singlehandedly unraveled the mystery the chancellor and all his ministers—myself included—failed to solve.”
“Go Tarlon.” She looked at him and smiled. “So what was the connection between Narrn and the drug cartel? Why in the world were we kidnapped?”
Tarlon quickly explained what he’d learned from Narrn.
Nikki set down her fork and pushed aside her half-eaten pie. “Rh-negative women are basically universal breeders?” The blood was slowly draining from her face.
Sintar came up out of his chair and knelt at her side. “Breathe, baby. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
She scooted to the edge of her chair, then gave up trying to be brave and went into his arms. He sat on the kitchen floor and held her, stroking her hair while she trembled with fear. Tarlon had never seen anything like it. Sintar, his cold, unflappable brother was coddling their soon to be mate. Who would have thought him capable of such a nurturing reaction?
She looked up at him with wide, concerned eyes, but it was clear that she felt braver surrounded by Sintar’s arms. “There are really that many alien species who need mates? How is that even possible?”
He debated what to tell her, not wanting to worry her unduly.
“The Skarilians target the weak to motivate the strong. We’ve seen it over and over. They’ll slaughter females and children to gain the cooperation of the surviving males.” Despite her obvious fear, Sintar wasn’t willing to lie to her.
“You guys were lured away from your planet. How did they accomplish such a targeted attack? They sure as hell didn’t bother with Earth. They bombed the shit out of us indiscriminately.”
“They sometimes need strong, healthy males to process natural resources and prepare planets for transformation, what humans call terraforming,” Tarlon explained. Sintar was right. She needed to fully understand their enemy. “They unleash chemical weapons that strike with shocking accuracy. They target the infirmed first, then the very young and very old, finally females if the males are especially stubborn.”
“But why are they terraforming worlds? Don’t they have a planet of their own?”
The brothers looked at each other, thinking of all the hours they’d wasted debating that subject.
“They must have a home world or at least have had one at some time,” Sintar finally spoke. “They’re corporeal beings that require ships for travel. So even if they come from a different dimension, as my brother believes, their motivation is clearly conquest, not just destruction.”
“No one has ever seen their home world?” That seemed to shock her enough to ease her away from her fear. She sat straighter and sounded calmer.
“We know very little about them,” Tarlon admitted, “and we’ve never encountered anyone who knows more. They’re secretive and… wasteful. They slaughter without conscience and decimate more planets than they take over.”
“On the surface their patterns seem swarm-like, almost as if they’re acting on instinct rather than with a high functioning intelligence.” Apparently tired of sitting on the cold, hard floor, Sintar pushed her to her feet then stood. “But then how does one explain their ships, or the complex strategies they use to force the compliance of others.” He shook his head. “These are not mindless insectoids.”
“Then maybe the rebels are right. It sounds like the only way to stop them is to wipe them out of existence.” She heard her own words and shivered, looking a little haunted again. “But speaking for Rh-negative females, we’d appreciate it if you didn’t use us as currency during the endeavor.” She smiled, but her buoyant mood was obliterated, thanks to them.
“We’ve totally fucked up your celebration,” Tarlon grumbled. “I’m sorry, love. The pie was delicious and I appreciate how hard you worked on it.”
She walked over to him and poked him in the chest. “Don’t try and sweet-talk me. You’re still in big trouble, buster.”
He smiled, having completely forgotten about her threat to punish him. “Have you and Sintar decided on a fitting punishment for my not telling you about my abilities?”
“We have.” She looked at Sintar and they exchanged conspirators’ smiles. “You will sit across the room watching, and feeling, while Sintar fucks me anyway he likes. You will not be allowed to touch yourself or do anything other than watch. And only then, if I believe you are very, very sorry, will you be allowed to join us.”
“But Sintar’s the one who likes to watch.” It was more or less a game, but Tarlon didn’t like it.
“That’s the point. It’s punishment. You’re not supposed to enjoy it.”
“Fair enough.” It was small price to pay. He really should have told her.
Sintar swept her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Was there a specific reason you decided to bake the pie? Tarlon’s right, it did feel like a celebration.”
Finally! Tarlon suspected she was never going to get back around to the issue of claiming if they didn’t nudge her, but Sintar had forbidden him to bring it up.
S
he smiled, looking at him and then Sintar. “I was feeling nostalgic, but there was another reason.” She paused dramatically and Tarlon found himself holding his breath. “Unfortunately, we have to deal with Tarlon before I can tell you.”
“Good gods, female, you truly are trying to kill us.” Sintar flipped her over his shoulder and headed for the stairs.
She kicked and cried out, but her laughter ruined her halfhearted attempt to appear abused.
Tarlon hurried along behind them, anxious for the games to begin.
* * *
Nikki’s cry ended in a peal of laughter as Sintar tossed her onto their oversized bed. He came down on top of her and pinned her arms above her head. His mouth ravaged hers, lips grinding, tongue pillaging her mouth. His aggression surprised and thrilled her. He’d been so gentle earlier. Apparently her hints that she’d allow them to claim her had made him feel possessive.
He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “Do you realize how much I love you?”
Her heart fluttered wildly. They’d never spoken of love. They had vowed to protect and care for her, but love had seemed like an impossible dream. “I love you too.”
“And I—”
“You’re not allowed to speak,” Sintar snapped at Tarlon without taking his eyes off her.
She couldn’t see where Tarlon was sitting, but she was pretty sure he was following her rules. “Maybe I need to hear it from him too,” she whispered.
“Later,” he countered and went back to possessing her mouth.
She relaxed beneath him, stroking him with her tongue. Her legs were tangled in her skirt and he straddled her hips, so it was the only part of her that wasn’t confined.
When he finally pulled away, his features were tense, almost urgent. “I can’t wait, love. You can punish him later.”