I turned my attention to the immediate question of the straps that held me. They were fastened firmly, but not painfully tight. In fact, they weren’t restrictive. I wriggled my arms up and free, and undid the top strap. It was the kind that kept a sleeper safe during turbulence. It clicked open.
Relief whispered through me. I sat up and undid the second strap across my hips. As the blanket fell off, cool air caused my skin to goosepimple. The silky t-shirt and shorts appropriate to Tyger Tyger were inadequate here. The blanket had been a kindness. I wrapped it around me as I put my feet on the floor. Over to my right was a hatch set in the floor. Undoubtedly locked. On my left, there was a door; also closed, likely locked. I stared at it.
The door opened.
The bounty hunter entered. He stared at me.
His eyes were blue. He carried neither the disrupter nor a blaster. But then, why would he fear me? And the disrupter could operate from somewhere hidden to me.
“I can’t help you,” I repeated what I’d told him on Tyger Tyger. “And kidnapping is illegal. Where am I?” I couldn’t imagine that we were still on the tropical holiday planet.
“My ship.”
“And where is your ship?” Judging by the straps that had secured me, we were somewhere he expected turbulence. Had he taken us through a wormhole? They were rough journeys for most ships since few people could afford a starship shaman to smooth them.
Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer my question.
“Jaya Romanov.”
While I’d been unconscious, he’d done his research. I couldn’t summon the energy to care. “And you are?”
“Vulf Trent.”
I hadn’t expected he’d answer my question. I certainly hadn’t anticipated his name. “Vulf?”
“A family name,” he growled impatiently, as if he’d explained it too many times.
But I wasn’t questioning the oddness of his first name. Excitement trickled into me, replacing some of the strange apathy that had weighted my body with uncharacteristic helplessness. I recognized the name Vulf, not for this man, but in terms of who named their children Vulf or Vulfina.
In light of that knowledge, I reassessed him. He still wore a dark gray utility suit. The smooth fit of its cut and fabric served to emphasize his well-defined muscles. Life onboard a starship meant exercise had to be scheduled into a person’s day. You couldn’t rely on it happening naturally. It wasn’t like you could go for a walk to the shops or a swim in the sea. For a moment I regretted that I hadn’t made time for a swim in Tyger Tyger’s tropical ocean. But Vulf’s muscles weren’t simply the result of time in a gym. They were a genetic inheritance.
He was part of my self-selected life’s work, and the irony of discovering his identity now, after Ivan had stolen my sha crystal, struck hard.
It made me careless. “Pirate turned bounty hunter. I guess I can see how that happened.”
The sudden chill in the air had nothing to do with a change in the cabin’s temperature, and everything to do with the expression in Vulf’s light blue eyes.
“Not your name,” I said hastily. “Not Vulf Trent. I had no idea who you are. Have no idea.” Predatory alertness sharpened his gaze and made me babble. “Ivan didn’t tell me anything. I recognized Vulf as a shifter name. The wolf clans. Shifters have a reputation as pirates.” I finally managed to close my mouth, perhaps because some of the icy suspicion in his eyes faded.
“Most people don’t know that the shifters became pirates within a couple of generations of Earth’s evacuation.” There was a question lurking in his comment.
Fortunately, I had a good answer. “The Star Guild Shaman Academy provided a comprehensive education, including the history of Earth and developments since the Evacuation.” And I’d had a personal reason for paying particular attention to anything and everything related to shifters—including the reason they’d abandoned regular society and gone rogue.
When humanity evacuated Earth, many things were lost. The shifter clans’ ability to transform into their animal forms was one of the most terrible forfeitures. Now, werewolves, werebears and other shifters are trapped in their human bodies and slowly losing the essence of their primal souls. However, their instincts remain strong. They are violent, protective and loyal. Their pirate fleets give them the framework required to act out, while remaining sane. Remaining human.
The fact that they are pirates makes it incredibly difficult for outsiders to have any sort of meaningful contact with them. I’d assisted starships I was contracted to to escape them on a couple of occasions, but I’d never been able to talk with one or to observe a shifter for any extended period of time. All of my research was secondhand and theoretical.
Vulf could teach me so much!
“It’s no good looking at me with puppy eyes,” he growled.
I blinked. “Puppy eyes?” Oops! Evidently my excitement at the chance for firsthand research had shown.
“All hopeful and innocent.” He backed up a step. “I’m not going to let you go.”
“Okay.”
He frowned.
“I mean…” Oh heck! I needed to explain my response. My lack of resistance to being imprisoned would puzzle him. I’d sounded downright eager to stay—which I was! How many other crew did he have onboard? If he was a typical shifter, they’d all be pack. I could observe multiple shifters and their interaction. I tucked the blanket closer around me to keep from clapping my hands together in glee. What I needed was a cover story, a reason that Vulf could accept for me wanting to stay with him.
Truth was always easier than a lie. “Ivan stole something from me. When you strapped me into the bunk—and thank you for the blanket—did you notice the chain around my neck?” I fished it out, running my finger along it till I reached the broken bail where the crystal should have hung. “On the beach, when Ivan gave me that friendly hug, he stole the crystal that used to hang from here. I want it back.”
I had the unhappy suspicion that I might be able to recover the crystal, but that Ivan would have used all the sha stored within it before I reached him, and it was the sha energy, not its crystal vessel, that was precious.
I let go of the chain. “I don’t know where Ivan’s going or what scheme he’s involved in, which means you have a much better chance of finding him than I do. So you can keep me here, hoping to learn something about him from me, but in doing so, you’re giving me a much better chance than I’d have alone at catching up with him.”
A bemused expression washed over his face. He shook his head. “Are you trying to convince me that you’d work with me?”
I hesitated. As angry as I was with Ivan, did I really intend to be part of handing him over to the Emperor of Meitj? “What will the Emperor do with Ivan?”
Vulf shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“If you had to guess…?”
“Prison. Not death. The Meitj don’t believe in capital punishment.”
I fidgeted with the blanket. The question would be whether a prison could hold a shaman of Ivan’s abilities. If I helped capture him and he could immediately escape, then that didn’t count as treachery, did it?
One glance around the cabin, with Vulf blocking the door, reminded me that shamans could be imprisoned. It just required a hellishly expensive disrupter—a gadget the Emperor would be well able to afford. The million solidus bounty for Ivan was proof of that inconvenient fact.
I sagged. “No. Even with what he did, I can’t help you catch Ivan.” I straightened my shoulders. Whatever Vulf’s response to my refusal, I’d handle it. “I won’t help you.”
He straightened from leaning against the doorframe.
Despite my intention to be strong, I swayed backwards fractionally, flinching from him.
He paused.
We studied one another. I knew what he saw. I was tall and skinny. Lanky. All arms and legs, with my calves sticking out beneath the blanket. My black hair was messy as it escaped its braid. My face tended to look gaunt when I go
t stressed, as if all the fat beneath my skin was sucked away, hollowing out my cheeks, making my pointed chin even more noticeable, and emphasizing my mouth with its full lips. My plump lips made me uncomfortable. They seemed to promise a generosity and sensuality that wasn’t in my nature. I compressed them into a frown.
Vulf seemed to frown naturally, as if it was a default setting for his face. His icy blue eyes gave no clue as to his thoughts. Yet he’d halted when I flinched. The man who’d punched me unconscious had halted at my hint of fear.
Shifters were protective of their own. If I could coax him to see me as a submissive female, one who was no threat to him or his crew, maybe his instincts would protect me. I wasn’t actually submissive by nature, but most people confused my quiet reserve with submission. I’d had practice in unobtrusively achieving my goals after people had dismissed me as weak. But I couldn’t risk Vulf seeing me as irrelevant and ditching me on a remote planet or station; not if I wanted to study him and his crew of shifters.
All the jumble of things I wanted to do and had to fear roiled around in my brain, and I sighed. Loudly.
“What do you want for dinner?” Vulf asked.
“Um.” I stared at him. “I just said I won’t help you catch Ivan. Oh! If you’re planning on drugging me, shamans have a high tolerance for drugs. Even with a disrupter operating.”
“I don’t drug women.”
“No, you just hit them.” I scowled at him, forgetting—already—my plan to act submissive.
He folded his arms. Muscles bulged. “Would you rather I’d stunned you with the blaster?”
I shuddered. “No!” I hadn’t considered that the blaster had been his other option.
He nodded grimly. “I did you a favor. I’ve seen a shaman stunned.”
I’d seen video of a shaman stunned. All Academy students did. Our connection to sha energy violently amplified the effect of a stun blast. I’d never forget watching how the shaman in the video convulsed for an hour and twelve minutes. After that, he’d been in pain for days. “Will you stun Ivan?”
“If I have to. On the beach I couldn’t get a clear shot.”
Ivan had darted into the jungle too quickly.
“He’s old,” I whispered.
“He stole from you,” Vulf countered. “And attempted to do the same from the Meitj. Old age isn’t a free pass.”
I stood, angry now as well as scared. I folded the blanket roughly and pushed it at him. Shifters were meant to revere their elders.
His arms remained crossed. “You’ll need it.”
“I don’t want anything of yours.”
His glower intensified. “Then that’s a ‘no’ to dinner.” He turned and strode out. The door sealed behind him.
“Flea-ridden mongrel.” I kicked the door. “Ow.” I’d forgotten that I wore flip-flops rather than sensible boots. Hot tears of pain started to my eyes. “Bully.”
A hatch opened in the wall by the door. A disembodied voice addressed me. “I took the liberty of estimating your size. Unfortunately, there are no suitably sized boots onboard the Orion. The socks should be sufficient while you’re inside the cabin.”
I snatched up the clothes, hugging them to me. “I thought Vulf implied I couldn’t have anything? Is he not the captain?” If there was someone here who was the boss of Vulf, I wanted to know who. Vulf radiated such authority that I couldn’t imagine him bowing to anyone. If he did, that someone would have to be dauntingly powerful.
“You are correct. Vulf is the captain. He ordered that I monitor you to assess your needs and provide for them after he’d spoken with you.”
“You’re watching me?” That was creepy!
“You are a prisoner.” Vulf’s deeper voice came through a speaker. I finally located it set in the ceiling. “Ahab is the ship’s AI. He won’t get any thrills observing you. Nor will he get tired or fall for your tricks.”
“Are you watching me?” Rather than stare up at the ceiling, I looked at the door. “I want to get dressed and I don’t want you perving.” The warm, practical clothing in my arms was familiar and would make me feel more like me. If I had to, though, I could change under the blanket I’d shoved at him. It would be difficult though.
“Do you know how much porn is available on the net?” he asked.
The audio was clear, but I couldn’t get a sense of whether it was disbelief or tiredness that flattened his voice. Either way, it was plain he wasn’t interested in watching me strip. Good.
A door cracked open in the far wall. I jumped, dropping the socks.
“The bathroom,” Ahab said.
“Thanks,” I muttered as I scooped up the socks.
It felt good to wash off the bug spray and my sweat in the small cubicle. Tyger Tyger might have been a holiday island, but it hadn’t been kind to me. I dressed in the utility suit Ahab had provided. It was dark gray. Perhaps it was the crew uniform for Vulf’s ship. The Orion, Ahab had called it.
In every interaction I could learn a little more about my captors and where we were. Plus, maybe I would have to try and save Ivan. What was he involved in that the powerful, if reclusive, Meitj had issued a bounty for him? What had he tried to steal and why? Ivan had never cared about wealth.
“Okay. I’m decent.” I returned to the cabin. Everything in it was the way I’d left it. “Ahab?” No response. “Is there somewhere I can wash my clothes?” Still no response. I looked around the cabin. Apart from the bunks, there was no other furniture. Unsure what to do, I put the clothing on the floor by the bathroom door.
A hatch opened below the one that had provided the utility suit and a robot whisked out. It rolled to my dirty clothes, scooped them up and reversed back to the hatch, which closed. So Ahab mightn’t be answering me, but it was observing me.
A disturbingly helpless feeling enveloped me. I reached for sha energy and, again, the disrupter’s operation meant I encountered the resistant, burning sensation. Blocked from my power, I paced the cabin. It was difficult to pace in socks. They lacked the solid thump of boots. Instead, my agitation was soundless.
I gave up and sat on the bunk, crossing my legs and turning my hands palm up on my knees in a meditation pose. I was more than my shamanic ability. I had a brain. I just had to use it. What I needed was a plan.
What I got was another visit from Vulf.
Chapter 2
“Come and eat,” Vulf said from the doorway, before vanishing again. The door remained open.
I slid out of my cross-legged meditation pose and ventured in my sock-clad feet to the doorway. Beyond it was a comfortable cabin that seemed to be the ship’s main recreation space. To my left was the food dispenser and a table with benches set up. Vulf was seating himself at the table, facing me. In front of him was a plate of stew that smelled savory. Bread rolls and butter occupied the center of the table. Evidently, Vulf had stocked up on fresh food while planetside. A second plate of stew waited opposite him. For me, I assumed.
The doorframe was cool against my fingers.
To my right, a long sofa and a recliner faced a viewscreen. The side walls were probably storage cupboards and access hatches for robots and other support technology. The walls had a surprisingly elegant timber façade in deep shades of honey. It could have been an expensive apartment on any of the city worlds.
There was no one else present.
“Where are your crew?”
“I work alone.” Vulf waited till I sat. Then he picked up a bread roll, splitting it open and slathering on butter.
I watched the deft way he handled even a blunt-edged knife. “I thought shifters needed their pack?”
He bit into the roll. Then he ate some stew. The message was clear: whatever his reasons for working alone, they were none of my business.
The stew was excellent. It tasted of paprika and sour cream, almost as good as the goulash I made on the rare occasions that I stayed planetside. Of course, when I cooked, I used real meat and not the manufactured variety. But in space,
ersatz food was the most practical option.
With that in mind, I enjoyed the real bread and butter. “I understand why you had to knock me out.”
Vulf’s blue eyes studied me.
“You couldn’t drag me to your starship with me protesting the whole way. Did you tell people I was drunk?” I was proud of how even my voice sounded, as if the knowledge of how vulnerable I’d been—how vulnerable I remained—didn’t rattle my cage.
“I put you in a crate and rolled you in with other supplies.”
I choked on a mouthful of stew.
“The crate was clean,” Ahab contributed. “I sterilized it before it left the Orion.”
“Thanks?” I offered.
“You’re welcome.”
Vulf rolled his eyes.
I decided to test my boundaries. If Ahab was inclined to be helpful, that could be useful. I doubted that I could fool an AI, but there was always hope. “Could I have a drink, please? Coffee, for preference.”
Vulf put down his knife and fork. “I didn’t think.” He rose to cross to the food dispenser.
I could already hear the subdued hiss of hot liquid hitting a cup. “I can get it.”
He sat back down, watching me. We were both learning about each other.
Standing by the food dispenser, I took a sip. The coffee was strong, but smooth. “Good coffee.” Expensive. This wasn’t an ersatz blend. “Thanks, Ahab. Did you want a coffee, Vulf?” My whole body tightened as I said his name for the first time. I’d called him that in my head, but out loud, it felt significant. Was my response a warning? Could a prisoner come to trust her captor?
“Yes. Please.”
A second cup emerged from the food dispenser and a jet of hot coffee filled it. It was pure coffee, unadulterated by milk, sugar or flavorings, just as I liked mine. I set the cup down in front of Vulf and slid back onto my bench seat. A shorter legged person might have found the seat too high. It was designed for a large man like Vulf.
I reconsidered the recreation space in light of his claim to live alone on the ship. The space was exceedingly tidy. Even with support equipment and an active AI in charge of them, many ships descended to a level of shabbiness. Vulf maintained a high standard.
Her Robot Wolf: Gift of Gaia Page 2