by Anna Carven
He just has this magnificent way of putting all that aside when he’s at home with us.
The rest of the Universe can wait. That’s what always he tells me.
“Ami, wait!” I rush down the corridor, chasing the little monster into her room. Damn it, she’s fast.
Figures. She’s inherited half her genes from one of the most lethal beings in the known Universe.
“Broo dwess,” she exclaims, banging her fists on the wardrobe.
“Blue dress please,” I correct, unable to contain my smile.
A few facts about Ami. She likes blue. She likes wearing dresses. She likes pretty things. She rarely says please.
I don’t know where she gets her girliness from. According to Kenna, I was a grubby little tomboy of a child. Her exact words.
It must be Tarak’s doing. Daddy treats her like a princess. Positively spoils her.
I press my hand against the wall-panel and the wardrobe slides open, revealing an array of toddler clothing—from stained and well-worn playsuits to pretty floral bloomers and blouses and even colorful Veronian-made slacks and tunics, made from the softest fabric.
Ami points to a blue dress with pink polka dots. “Dat,” she says, most assertively. Her jaw juts out in a way that reminds me so much of her father.
I sigh, taking the garment off its hanger. Right now, this particular dress is on high rotation. “You have lots of other clothes, Ami. Why don’t we wear…” As my hand hovers over a yellow t-shirt, she shakes her head.
“No. Dat.”
I briefly consider trying to dress her in something other than the blue and pink polka dot dress, but decide against it. It’s not worth the tantrum that would inevitably follow.
I quickly change and dress her, and when we return downstairs, Tarak is still sitting at the breakfast table.
Wait, something’s different. He’s decked out in full battle-armor now, wearing the seamless obsidian exo-suit that he can summon at will from the nanites that course through his bloodstream. The armor is designed specifically for him. It’s impenetrable to almost everything, encasing his body in a sleek, flexible shell that molds to the contours of his powerful body.
The first time I saw him, he was wearing the exact same thing, and I thought he was absolutely terrifying.
He can be terrifying, but not to me.
Not to us, ever.
“Aren’t you late for work?” I drink him in with my eyes, just because I can, because he’s beautiful and dangerous and otherworldly, and never in a million years could I have imagined I would catch a Kordolian First Division warrior, let alone the Big Bad himself.
My ogling doesn’t escape his notice. He returns my stare, upping the heat level with his usual crimson-eyed intensity.
My heart races. Impossible man. He almost makes me forget that I’m on my period right now.
“Later,” he mouths, reminding me of last night’s glorious intensity. My lips part, but no words come out. His expression is infuriatingly enigmatic, save for the slight almost-smirk playing across his lips.
He knows exactly what effect he has on me.
Devious male that he is.
I place Ami on the floor. “Bada!” She runs to him, her dress flapping around her ankles, her tiny feet pattering on the polished floor. The cleaning-bot skims past, narrowly missing her. Tarak scoops her up into his arms, planting a tender kiss on her head, ruffling her pale wispy hair.
Little miss blue-and-pink-polka-dots, nestled in the arms of my imposing armor-clad husband.
All is well.
“We are going to play battleships,” he declares, his expression perfectly deadpan as Ami nods enthusiastically. “Then I will go up to Silence.”
Nothing is too urgent to interrupt a game of battleships, it seems. Well, he is the head of a vast and powerful mercenary organization, so he can afford to keep his own timetable. The seemingly endless fleet of the Kordolian Imperial Military has morphed into something else under his command; a gigantic, sprawling entity that has its reaches in even the most distant corners of the Nine Galaxies. On Earth, it’s known as the Darkstar Corporation, but that’s just one facet of this massive thing, this… empire.
Darkstar is just the civilized face they present to humans; a super toned down version of the truth. If people on Earth really knew what Kordolians were capable of, there’d be panic in the streets.
I’m not worried, though. Tarak might have a tyrannical streak, but he isn’t a bad guy.
Well, as long as Ami and I are here to keep him in check, he isn’t a bad guy.
Well, most of the time, he isn’t a bad guy.
I glance around the kitchen, my jaw dropping a fraction as I notice that it’s perfectly clean. The benchtops are clear and gleaming white. The kitchen-bot is perfectly polished. A delicious, comforting aroma fills the air. Coffee.
Did Tarak al Akkadian, former General of the Kordolian Empire, Commander of the infamous First Division, CEO of the Darkstar Corporation, and all-round badass just tidy up our kitchen?
We have bots for that sort of thing. Granted, they’re not the most efficient machines, but they get the job done. But there’s no way the bots could have moved so fast.
“Your coffee,” he says quietly, gesturing toward the table. “The first one went cold, so I made you another.” A perfectly made latte sits on the gleaming black surface, courtesy of Tarak and the kitchen-bot.
I stare at it in astonishment. “You…” Sweet, impossible man.
Tarak gives me a searing look as he whisks Ami away, whispering something in her ear that elicits a squeal of excitement. I close my eyes and inhale the aroma of freshly ground Ethiopian coffee, and it’s as if someone’s just injected the caffeine directly into my veins.
Smell is such a powerful, evocative thing.
I feel so much better already. A decent night’s sleep, sex with my hot husband, and coffee. That’s all it takes to cure a bad premenstrual funk.
And it’s quiet.
I put my feet up and take a sip of my coffee. It’s just the way I like it; smooth and deliciously milky. Of course, Tarak takes his black, and ridiculously strong.
It’s so good to be home. Traveling back and forth between Silence and the Fleet Station and Earth has been exhausting, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We go where Tarak goes. It’s hard at times, but we make it work.
As my thoughts go from absolute brain-fog to calm clarity, I sit bolt upright, almost spitting out my coffee.
Oh, crap.
How did I not realize? Time’s gone by so damn fast, and life with Ami right now is absolute chaos.
It’s two days away from Christmas, and we’re out here in the blazing hot desert, and I need to do something about this situation, quick smart.
I can’t help but snicker evilly into my coffee as a ridiculous vision enters my mind. Maybe I can convince Tarak to dress up as Santa Claus for Ami.
Sexy silver Santa Claus with fangs. Ho ho ho.
Ha. Yeah, right. He thinks our little Earth customs and festivities are ridiculous.
A girl can always dream, though.
9
Tarak
“We’re going to the city today,” Abbey announces upon my return. Ami’s hand is nestled in mine as she walks beside me, her bare feet pounding on the smooth floor.
She slips her hand out of mine and runs to Abbey, catching her legs in a solid hug.
My incredible child. She makes me proud. She is a most destructive battleship player.
“The city?” I inhale my wife’s scent as it mingles with the rich aroma of coffee. Sweet. Earthy. Tinged with a hint of something ripe and metallic. Her so-called period. Humans bleed when they’re injured, just like us. Human females bleed as part of their natural cycle.
I am constantly learning.
I remind myself that this process isn’t a painful one. Abbey seemed to be suffering yesterday, but that insidious tension—whatever it was—it’s gone now.
“The city,” she says resolutely, and I recognize the stubborn note that has entered her voice.
As if she is gearing up for a fight, as if she is expecting my resistance, which is completely reasonable.
“Which city?” She knows me too well. My first instinct is to forbid her. I want to be at her side each and every time she goes outside my secure compound.
Sensing my mood, Abbey narrows her eyes. “Adelaide,” she says tersely. “We talked about this, Tarak. You can’t keep us locked away. Life has to go on.”
“With conditions,” I growl. “Can’t you get Kenna to mind Ami, at least?”
“Kenna’s had to go away for a couple of weeks.”
“I wasn’t aware of this.” At the mention of Kenna, my irritation rises.
Abbey’s abrasive aunt and I don’t get along.
It is a well known fact.
“Does he need a fucking report on every little thing I do? I don’t think so.” Abbey mimics Kenna’s raspy voice. “Her words exactly. She doesn’t know when she’ll be back, and I have no idea where she’s gone. Don’t worry. Kenna’s the most paranoid and cautious person I know… well, the second most, and she’s tough as nails. She isn’t going to do anything stupid.”
“I do not like this. We need to find her, Abbey.” I am wading into a current of resistance, but I am right. How in Kaiin’s hells did Kenna manage to evade our security?
“Kenna’s existed on this planet longer than either of us. She knows how to get around. She knows how to handle a weapon. She will be… fine.”
“Why is there more than a hint of doubt in your voice, wife?”
“Huh.” Abbey lets out a frustrated sigh. “Well, maybe… It’s just that I promised her I wouldn’t make a big deal of it, and Kenna gets so damn adamant when she gets her head around something.”
Hm. Why the need for such secrecy? What is the stubborn old hag up to? “This world is different to the one she once knew, Abbey.” My voice softens as I move to my mate’s side, gently pressing my hand against her lower back. Sometimes it’s easier this way. Abbey’s judgement on this is clouded by her closeness to Kenna. “I need to know where she is,” I murmur, making small circles in the small of her back with my thumb. Ami curls her tiny arm around mine, clinging to both of us.
“Fine.” Abbey relents, sounding more than a little relieved.
I make a mental note to have my Intelligence Division track Kenna down and monitor her movements. Although she is a pain-in-the-ass, she is an important person to Abbey. “Now, about this excursion of yours…” I take Ami’s hand into and play with her tiny fingers. She giggles.
Abbey’s eyes narrow. She chafes at my need for absolute control. It is a delicate balance. I need to keep her and Ami safe at all costs, yet they must have some degree of normalcy in their lives.
They must have freedom.
Otherwise, what is the point of everything I have fought for?
“Ami needs to be exposed to the world, Tarak. I’m not going to have her grow up knowing only this. She needs to socialize. It’s important for her development.”
“Hm,” I say for the second time. She is right, of course. Abbey isn’t naive. She’s aware of the potential danger to our family. I have many enemies, and none of them would hesitate to use my mate and child against me. The mere thought threatens to unravel my civilized facade and bring out my most vicious instincts.
With great effort, I keep the dark thoughts at bay.
I need to be careful here.
“And what are you planning to do in this place… Adelaide?” The name is somewhat familiar. I recall information from one of the many intelligence reports I’ve scanned since arriving on this planet. Adelaide. Population of around four million humans and a few thousand aliens. A sprawling coastal settlement on the lower edge of this barren continent, wedged between the desert and the sea. Their main export is power, generated from massive deep ocean currents and fed through large cables that span the entire length of the continent.
Yes, Adelaide’s economy is built on power. Their second most profitable export is wine, an infernally toxic human beverage. Abbey likes it, but I will never touch the stuff. For my kind, it is poison.
“I have things to do,” she says cryptically, her jaw set at a stubborn angle that I recognize all too well. “Must I run every little thing that I do by you, General?”
What is my mate up to now?
Despite my suspicions, I am pleased that she is back to her usual stubborn self, even though she is undergoing this so-called period.
“Bwaaah,” Ami interjects, demanding our attention. Our child does not like to be ignored.
“Quala, Ami?” I ask softly, using the Kordolian word. What are you saying, child? It is an endearing form of speech, used by the common people of the Flatedge when talking to children. I do not know why that particular word is so familiar on my tongue.
“Bwah bwah,” she says, raising her finger and aiming it at me. I realize she is making the firing sounds of our imaginary battleship.
She scrunches up her face, trying to look fierce.
“Good girl.” I can’t help but chuckle. Kaiin’s hells, but Abbey has a point. How can I keep this child locked away from the world when one day she will have to navigate it on her own? “You can go to the city with your mother, Ami, but she must take two of the First Division with her.”
“Two?” Abbey asks sharply. “Isn’t that overkill? Surely one of the guys would be more than adequ—”
“Two,” I snap. “That is not negotiable.”
“We’ll stand out.”
“That is the point,” I say quietly. Deterrence is an effective tactic. I would surround them with an entire Division if I had my way, but Abbey would not appreciate that.
So I will send two of my most skilled and trusted.
She gives me a strange look. A small puff of air escapes her lips. “Fine. But I get to choose.”
“Of course.” I smile, feeling magnanimous now that I have won half the battle. “Anything for you, my love.”
Just like Ami, Abbey wrinkles her nose at me.
My daughter and my mate, the two most precious things in my existence, are making faces at me.
They are the only ones in the Universe who can do such a thing and get away with it.
10
Abbey
“Remind me why we’re here again?” Rykal is watching the street from behind dark glasses, looking deceptively relaxed as we stroll down the bustling thoroughfare.
Make no mistake though, he’ll kill in an instant if anything threatens Ami or I.
Kalan is on my left, giving off a decidedly surly vibe. The big guy doesn’t like busy places. He doesn’t seem to like much of anything, except for fighting and his mate, Jia.
He positively dotes on her. It’s quite a remarkable thing to see. It’s too bad she couldn’t come with us today. Arin wasn’t available either. I asked around, but it seems everyone’s busy.
Except for Kalan and Rykal, who are on a rec rotation after completing their off-planet missions.
Well, isn’t it just their lucky day?
“We’re going Christmas shopping,” I say cheerily, holding Ami’s hand tightly as she walks beside me. With tiny feet, she stomps heavily on the bold patterns that are imprinted into the concrete path, making a game of it. A squeal of excitement escapes her lips as she spots a little boy about her age coming toward us. He’s sitting in a glider pram, being pushed by a man—obviously his father.
She tugs on my arm, pulling me toward the boy.
I wince, surprised at her sudden strength. If this is how strong she is at just two years of age…
Stars, she’s going to be a monster, just like her father.
“Kriss-mass?” Rykal’s brow creases. “I’ve been hearing that word a lot lately. Arin didn’t really explain it. Just said it’s some sort of human tradition, that she’s busy and doesn’t want to make a big fuss over it.”
Beside me
, Kalan is quiet, but he’s listening intently and keeping an eye on Ami at the same time.
Laser focus. The ability to cut out the noise and stick to their task with scary intensity. All the First Division warriors do it.
I glance at Rykal. “Arin’s just saying that because she’s Arin. She’s not the sort to expect pampering and gifts, but that doesn’t mean you can’t spoil her and then.”
“I’m all ears,” Rykal says dryly. “You think I don’t spoil her rotten?” He flashes his fangs.
“I know you do, but you’ve both been working pretty hard lately.” Rykal’s just returned from some top-secret mission that even I don’t know the details of, and Arin’s been doing crazy hours coordinating logistics for Earth’s second Kordolian base—on Antarctica. The third one is going to be on the moon, apparently.
I sigh. How do I explain this… sentimental feeling I’m getting right now; this nostalgia? “Christmas means different things to different people. For some of us, it means absolutely nothing at all.”
“Means nothing to me,” Kalan grumbles, instinctively moving closer to Ami and I as we pass a fire-twirling street performer surrounded by onlookers.
People step away, giving us a wide berth.
Kalan’s a tough nut to crack, but I know his weakness. “Well, you should at least know that at least half of Earth stops for just a few days at this time of the year.”
“But what’s the point of all this?” Rykal seems genuinely puzzled. “Why would they want to shut everything down?”
“Family, friends, food, relaxation, marking the passing of another year…” I try to list all the good things. It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to properly celebrate Christmas. The last time was on the Fortuna Tau. Even our miserly corporate overlords had enough sense to wind down work on the mining station for a day so we could kick back and enjoy ourselves.
It was… special.