by Regine Abel
“Xelix Prime is the only home he’s ever known. The place where his best friend and family live. You’ve decided to settle on Tuur and, once again, to be with you, he has given it all up. Tell me, Aleina, you who so jealously protect our new Veredia, have you ever even shown him pictures or recordings of Tuur? Of Haven? Of the foreign place you ask him to settle in? How many trips have we done back home to drop off the Sisters we have rescued over the past couple of months? Yet not once have you let him set foot in Haven. You didn’t even let him, or any Xelixian, enter our atmosphere. But he’s giving up his homeworld for it?”
I jumped to my feet and took a few steps away from her. I couldn’t breathe. Each of her words scorched me like acid. None of my actions had been meant in a callous or malicious way. But hearing them listed in this fashion as seen through external eyes, chafed me raw.
“Last night, for the first time, he actually asked you to give something. Not even permanently. Just for a short while, maybe a couple of hours. You told him to fuck off.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
Yes, it was.
Goddess, how had I been so selfish? How had I not seen it? Our mating had seemed so perfect. Almost too perfect.
Because he bent over backwards for you while you kept taking.
Kamala walked up behind me and pulled me into her embrace. I leaned back into her, and she pressed her cheek against mine.
“Love is a two-way street, sweetie. He can’t be do all the giving while you’re doing all the taking. Ghan didn’t ask for much. He didn’t even ask it for himself but for you because he fucking adores you. You’re his goddess. Make him your god. Learn to let go before you lose him.”
* * *
The rest of the day kept me as busy as the previous, with barely even enough time to take a piss. Once again, I didn’t see Ghan—or rather I didn’t see him physically as he remained on the Marauder. The loving text messages he sent to my com throughout the day helped me cope with how badly I missed him. Seeing him on the Marauder through the vidscreen during our conference call, with Mercy on her own ship the Raven, made me want to reach out through the screen and touch him. I’d grown addicted to having Ghan’s massive, hard, naked body wrapped around mine at night. Even showering without him had been heartbreaking.
Goddess, I’m so needy!
I didn’t know why I was such an emotional wreck lately. My season had ended sometime last night. In the waning days, I should have been gradually regaining better control of my emotions, but the opposite occurred. The slightest thing set me off to anger or the need to cry. And right now, I felt particularly clingy, wanting my mate near me.
So unlike me.
Forcing myself to focus on the call, we discussed all that Ghan had found out from the Guldan guards he had interrogated. From all accounts, Gruuk had indeed given us the location of all his fortresses, as far as the guards knew. They also provided us with the coordinates of the three illegal auction houses where flesh trades were still being performed in the Western Quadrant. We had failed to capture Varrek, but according to the guards, that was expected.
He had gradually been moving his activities to the Eastern Quadrant where slavery, in all its forms, was legal, although indentured servitude remained the dominant common practice. Essentially, people would sign contracts voluntarily offering themselves as slaves to another for a predetermined duration, with specifically defined terms of the servitude. Many debts were settled that way.
For example, one could be an indentured sex slave, meaning as long as the services required by their master were of a sexual nature, they would comply without a fuss, but could refuse doing anything else like menial labor or chores. For an indentured slave to breach the terms of a contract effectively gave the master the right to permanently own the servant, all boundaries lifted, as long as the master could demonstrate the breach in a court of law. Contracts ruled the Eastern Quadrant, so one had to be extremely careful before entering into one.
With a large number of pleasure barges and adult entertainment facilities catering to most extreme fetishes, it made sense for Varrek to move his activities to that sector. Mercy had a contact there: a Terran named William. He apparently acted as the right hand of a hybrid Terran-Braxian male named Anton Aldriss, the most powerful adult entertainment mogul, owner of the Hive network of high end pleasure barges in the Eastern Quadrant. Apparently, Bliss had become an overnight sensation in the Hives but also a major source of headaches for the organization.
Mercy had managed to get us an audience with Anton. William would require his blessing to put their resources behind tracking down either Varrek or his production facilities. We only had a narrow window to meet with Anton before he would become unavailable for weeks. With the upcoming tenth anniversary of the Lilith Hive pleasure barge, Anton and his family would be travelling halfway across the quadrant to preside over the celebrations that would last fifteen days. Following him there would add another two-week travel time in each direction to our already long journey to the Venus Hive, his headquarters.
The Tempest would reach Tuur in the morning, stopping long enough to unload our precious cargo before setting off to the Eastern Quadrant. The entire Tuurean fleet would remain on our homeworld to protect it from possible raids, now that the rescues had raised so much curiosity and greed. Ghan had also pledged to leave a number of his vessels with us as patrol, while the others headed back to Xelix Prime with the rescued Xelixians.
Kamala and Sohr would supervise our defenses while Ghan, Mercy, and I would pay Anton Aldriss a visit.
By the time this day ended, I was once more weary to the bone and missing Ghan something fierce. Knowing we’d be reunited tomorrow made it a bit more tolerable. Yet, after a quick shower, I found myself putting on one of Ghan’s shirts. I drowned in it and totally didn’t care. His scent surrounding me felt oddly soothing. Curled up in bed with the Altayan album playing the music Ghan and I had danced to for the first time, I munched on ryspak to further increase the illusion of his presence.
I woke up, startled by a pulling sensation. My eyes flicked open to Ghan taking the seeds of the three ryspak I had eaten out of my hand and wiping my sticky palms with a wet cloth.
“Ghan,” I whispered, wondering if I was hallucinating.
“I’m here, love,” he whispered back, the rumbling sound of his voice sending shivers down my spine.
He swiftly discarded his clothes, helped me out of the shirt I had entangled myself in, then lay down next to me. I nearly wept with happiness when his burning skin wrapped around mine.
Goddess, how I had missed him.
We were both too worn out to do anything more than cling to each other. It didn’t matter. The dull ache throbbing in my chest had subsided. My world had righted itself again. I buried my face in his neck, inhaled his unique, male scent, and let his steady heartbeat lull me back to sleep.
CHAPTER 20
Ghan
The Venus Hive space station blew my mind. As part of our military leaves, I’d often visited pleasure barges, but this belonged in a league of its own. The station could hold a city of six million people and catered to entertainment in all its forms, including dance shows, music concerts, casinos, gladiator arenas, fetish clubs and everything else in-between. The variety of alien species among the patrons exceeded even that found in the Galactic Council.
The division between the Commons and the VIP area couldn’t be mistaken. Where one tried to attract you with flashy signs and colors as loud as the music and criers outside the venues, the other was quiet, with subdued colors and discreet signs.
Anton’s right hand, William, greeted us at the security gate of the docking bay. The Terran male had a rugged kind of charm: square jaw covered with a two day beard, light brown hair sprinkled with silver, and serious blue eyes. Tall and muscular, pushing his late forties or early fifties, he looked in excellent shape and like a competent warrior.
He gestured for us to enter the hover car that would tak
e us to the Venus Hive headquarters. Despite the commendable efforts of the other guards at the dock to remain impassive, I didn’t miss how their eyes lingered on Mercy’s exotic appearance. Her beauty alone would draw many stares, but she had also made no effort to hide her horns or Veredian markings.
I cast a glance at Aleina, now impersonating Admiral Lee. She’d been in a very strange mood over the nine days it took us to reach the space station from Tuur. She’s been emotional and needy, with weird eating habits, and an abnormally frequent need to sleep at odd hours.
All signs that seemed to point at a potential depression.
My attempt to make her let go had been in part to address the first signs I had noticed back then. Before our mating, Lee had been a workaholic. Having no personal life and hardly any leisure time, the Admiral had been able to handle an ungodly load that would have crushed any common mortal. But since she’d embraced Aleina, trying to fit the same burden in half the time so that we could be together, strengthen our bond, and get to know our intended daughter, had taken its toll.
The stress was crushing her, and I was beginning to fear that our fight combined with the insane pressure of last week’s raid might have taken her to the breaking point. Once we were done with this business with Anton Aldriss, even if I had to knock her out, I was taking my mate back to Xelix Prime, away from any stress and responsibility, and let the love of her mother and family help her get back to her old self.
We entered the imposing headquarters of the Venus Hive. A pretty redhead Terran sitting at the reception smiled at William, then us.
“I’ll let Mr. Aldriss know you’re on your way up,” she said to him.
“Thank you, Dana,” William responded without stopping.
Sexy, yet surprisingly tasteful art pieces of adults of all pairings locked in steamy embraces and beautiful females in lingerie, adorned the white walls of the entrance hall. Where I peered discreetly at them, Mercy gawked openly. She truly was a strange one.
William led us down a spotless white and chrome hallway past the reception desk. Five elevators numbered two to eleven stood on each side. He headed for Elevator One, framed with luminescent tribal patterns. It stood against the back wall at the end of the corridor. The doors opened at his approach and closed behind us as soon as we stepped inside. Without any input required from any of us, the car raced to the penthouse.
The elevator doors opened on a sumptuous living area. William led us down the hallway to its left. He knocked on a closed door at the end, then opened it, and walked in first.
“Your guests have arrived.”
“Thank you, William,” Anton’s deep and gravelly voice said.
Three seats had been placed in front of Anton’s desk. William gestured for us to come in and take a seat before letting himself out. The door closed behind us with a soft click. The three of us nodded in greeting to our host who returned the favor. My mate settled in an antique, red empire chair right in front of Anton. Mercy picked the brown leather seat to Aleina’s right, and I sat down in a similar brown armchair to her left.
Anton observed us quietly as we took our places, his head slightly tilted to the side. His face, even more brutish than my own, made no mystery of his Braxian heritage. The prominent forehead, strong brows, and broad, jutting jaw were eclipsed by his wide, flat nose akin to that of a lion. Massive by most species’ standards, Anton appeared to be of a height with me, but with an even bigger muscle mass. Even I found him intimidating.
Incredibly, as a hybrid Terran-Braxian, Anton would be considered scrawny by pureblood Braxians. I didn’t even want to imagine how enormous those giants were.
Anton’s nostrils flared and he narrowed his eyes at Lee. After a beat, they turned to Mercy and his nostrils flared again. When our gazes connected, a knowing smile stretched his lips and deep unease settled in my stomach.
“Interesting,” Anton said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m always curious to see who will take the red chair.”
“Why is that?” Lee asked with her androgynous synthetic voice.
“It either states who’s in charge, or identifies who my guests are trying to seduce me with.”
“I bet the latter happens a lot,” Mercy said, in a teasing tone.
I groaned inwardly. Aleina’s sister had a marked preference for massive males, with rough, brutish features that normally made females cower in fear. Anton was happily mated. From all accounts, he all but worshipped his female, although I had a hard time picturing him soft and loving right this minute. While Mercy wouldn’t cross any lines, we couldn’t risk her innocent flirting to jeopardize our mission.
“Credits have a strange way of making even the least appealing male look irresistible,” Anton retorted mockingly. “But let’s get down to business. What brings you here, Admiral?”
Lee gave Anton a quick rundown of Varrek’s scheme, abducting Xelixians, enhancing them with Veredians, and then harvesting their venom to produce Bliss. She kept the details to a minimum, sticking to information relevant to his understanding.
“So you want my help tracking down this Varrek so that you can rescue the Veredians you have sworn to protect,” he said to Lee, then turn to me. “And you want to free the Xelixians who got abducted.”
I nodded.
“Slavery is legal in the Eastern Quadrant,” Anton said, matter-of-fact.
“Yes,” Lee said, “but that won’t stop us from doing everything in our power to save the Veredians and Xelixians.”
“Fair enough, but why should I get involved?”
“Because of the Bliss problem growing through your Hives. Soon it will become an epidemic that you will not be able to stop,” Mercy said.
Anton shrugged. “Recreational drugs come and go. Before there was Krax, then Ice, and now it’s Bliss. Tomorrow it will be something else.”
His nonchalant tone and body language didn’t fool me. Mercy had nailed it. Bliss was becoming a problem for him, but he was careful not to tip his hand, so as to remain in a position of power.
“Except none of them were Bliss,” I countered. “Thylin venom will give you the best high and is extremely addictive. But here’s the catch: once you’re hooked, rehabilitation isn’t possible.”
Anton’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and I knew then the first cases of incurable addiction had already begun to pop up. As horrible as I felt for the victim, it still played in our favor as they provided the proof that would convince him to assist us in case he resisted.
“You see, the Thylin addiction is DNA bound. So there is no possible substitute you can give the victim to ween them. The venom binds to their system and seeks a specific DNA marker to appease the craving. If they do not receive it, their body will begin to shut down until they die. There is no cure,” I said stressing each word of that last sentence. “You do not want this spreading in your Hives. Bliss addiction is a death sentence.”
Anton leaned forward and clasped his hands on top of his desk.
“So I help you find this man, you catch him, and dismantle his labs. That’s great, but how do I know Bliss doesn’t pop up again a week later from some other distributor?”
“I’m sure you’re a well-informed male,” Lee said. “Surely, the news from the multiple simultaneous raids against a slaver-drug dealer have reached this quadrant?”
Anton nodded, an amused glimmer sparkling in his eyes.
“It was impressive,” Anton conceded.
“He has no slaves left in the Western Quadrant, Veredian or Xelixian. They represented the bulk of his resources. And I won’t mention the thousands of crates of Bliss we confiscated in the process,” Lee said. “However many Veredians and Xelixians Varrek may have here, they are few. Once we’ve shut him down, there will be no vulnerable Veredians left for any wannabe to try to take over the market.”
“Our Council is also running an extensive campaign for Xelixians living offworld, warning them off entering into shady contracts and of the recent kidnapping spree,” I
said.
Anton nodded. “I have seen some of them. However, while this all sounds good in theory, slavery remains legal here. Raiding like you did in the Western Quadrant will likely prompt some forceful responses from other slavers who will not want to allow such a precedent to go unpunished.”
“Veredians have been declared endangered species by the Galactic Council,” Mercy said. “While the Council isn’t as powerful here as in the West, it still gives us a degree of legitimacy to try and rescue the ones held here.”
Anton pursed his lips and nodded again. “Not as powerful but its influence is growing every day. It will give people pause. At the time of the raid, you will want to send a global signal to all passing ships and ground control that any interference to your rescue will be considered a direct attack against the edict of the Council regarding a protected, endangered species.”
“Excellent suggestion,” I promptly replied, realizing he had indirectly given us his consent.
“Do not bring up the Xelixians unless challenged about them,” Anton continued. “They have signed a contract—however misleading it may have been—and have therefore forfeited their rights. If asked about them, merely say there were collateral losses for their master during the Veredian rescue.”
Lee chuckled, the synthetic effect of her voice modulator giving it an eerie sound.
“I like the way you think, Mr. Aldriss.”
“Glad you approve,” he said with a smirk. “I will instruct William to use all of our resources to track him down. It might take a few days, but we will find him.”
A surge of excitement coursed through me. I’d waited a long time to catch that son of Gharah. To think it could happen any day now…