by Zara Zenia
“Considering the way you handled yourself against the Infernians and their hired hands, it would seem the occupation suits you. But do you always jump into battle without knowing any of the facts?” I heard a note of teasing in his voice.
“Luckily for you, I did last night.” I smiled, wagging an eyebrow. “I've been trained to hold my own since I could walk. Hard to turn that off, I guess.”
“Do you still live with your family?” Karun smiled. He seemed to be breathing easier now that the conversation had veered away from his own turmoil.
“No, our compound was destroyed a few years ago.” I paused, bracing myself against the memories.
“TriScurra men were running a smuggling ring, and things were pretty bad for a while. We think they may have even been trafficking people. My brother, Orion, along with Johnson, was leading a task force against them. TriScurra struck first . . .” I swallowed against the rising emotion. “But we struck back, and more effectively. Until last night, they hadn't been spotted in over two years.”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to bring up such dark memories.” I glanced over at him and saw his eyes were full of contrition.
I half smiled. “It's okay. I don't want to not think about Orion. He deserves to have his memory honored. It's hard knowing he's not there anymore, but I'd rather that than never have had him in my life. When you love someone, you take the good with the bad, I guess.”
He looked thoughtful. “Without my brothers, I would be lost. Even with them, I sometimes feel . . . like I don't know who I am anymore,” he finished quietly.
I hadn't expected to share so much of myself, and from his silence, I had the sense that neither had Karun. I had only known this man a day, but since the moment we had made eye contact at the clinic, I couldn't deny that there was something different about him, about how he made me feel.
Not ready to follow those thoughts any further, I decided it was time for a change of pace.
“Do you enjoy music?” I asked, fumbling through the small pack in the compartment beside my seat.
“Very much so. At home, in Vahakun, we hosted dignitaries and diplomats from across many galaxies. I always enjoyed learning about their cultures and experiencing different types of music or entertainment. I even have some knowledge of Earth music,” he said proudly.
Finding the audio chip in my pack, I inserted it into the mecharover's dock. “Growing up so far from Earth proper, we don't have access to much new stuff, but there are some things that don't need improving. If there is a situation that can't use some Johnny Cash, I haven't lived it, and hell, I don't want to.”
“I cannot say I know of this,” he said, looking eager.
With the wind blowing through the open windows, we listened to peppy trumpets followed by the rich luxury of Johnny's voice singing Ring of Fire.
“This is a very different kind of music from anything I have heard before,” he said, looking just a bit excited. “I can see why you like this. What is this called?”
We talked briefly about music. I learned that Dragselians preferred solemn, choral music and that they used few, if any, instruments. In turn, I played more Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, and some Leonard Cohen for him. It was a surreal conversation.
“Well, spank me silly. Who would have thought I'd be teaching a dragon-man about ancient earth music on a road trip through the deserts of Vaxivia?” I joked.
“Dragon-man now?” he asked in a rumbly voice that I felt as much as heard.
Laughing, I answered, “Maybe you're growing on me.”
“Does that mean I get to spank you silly?” he joked and wagged his brows at me as I nearly choked on the unexpected laugh. Who knew dragons could get fresh?
“Actually, I prefer to do the spanking,” I teased back, recovering myself.
“That surprises me not at all,” he answered, smiling.
The first sun began to set, changing the shadows which were always moving, stretching, and shifting. They seemed to mirror the unsettled feelings stirring inside me.
Chapter 7
Karun
Driving over the open, rugged terrain, I was starting to appreciate the rough beauty of this place. So unlike the lush forests, mountains, and bustling cities of my homeland, it was a stark and severe landscape, but as I talked to Andie, her affection for it was plainly evident. I started to see the wide open flats and immense blue sky through her eyes—the liberating vastness.
Andromeda was an intoxicating question I didn’t know how to answer. At first glance, she was a brash and headstrong soldier, so eager to prove her mettle and abilities which, to be fair, were considerable. But, speaking to her, I caught glimpses of the vulnerability hidden beneath.
She had fought hard to overcome the tragedies and obstacles placed before her, and I was struck by the fact that I was beginning to care, that I felt myself wanting to learn more, to unscramble this beautiful puzzle. Her quirky tastes in music, her suggestive humor, her wit, her courage, her strength . . . I wanted to dig through all those layers until I reached the very core of her.
It was jarring, this realization, the magnetic pull that was drawing me in. Almost as discomfiting was the increasing strain to control the reactions of my body, which were progressively getting more difficult to ignore.
The second sun was finally sinking down below the horizon when we decided to make camp. Hardin EEed Andie, and they selected a location two klicks from the main roadway and at the base of a gradual slope, hoping to disguise our location.
We were nearing a place Andie and Hardin called ‘the crags’, where the flats were crisscrossed with deep cracks in the crust. It would be a dangerous ride during the day and decidedly unsafe with the decreased visibility of night.
Pulling into an area slightly hidden by a gathering of weathered trees, Andie expertly parked the large mecharover at an angle behind Hardin’s. It was clear by her deft precision that she knew how to handle a vehicle—it made me wonder what else she would be good at handling, and those kinds of thoughts were not helpful right now.
While I was trying hard to push away thoughts of how her golden hair might look loose and flowing down her naked back, Ragal approached us.
“Before we make camp, one of us should do an aerial survey and make certain that we have not been followed.”
Oddly, I felt an unfamiliar rush of insecurity. For some reason, I realized I was suddenly and for the first time self-conscious about shifting in front of another. Would she think me repulsive, frightening? Further evidence that this development was becoming a nuisance.
“Go, batr,” I told Ragal. “Your speed and skill exceed my own.”
He looked at me oddly, surprised by my assertion as we both knew my statement to be, at least partially, untrue.
Shimmering briefly in the fading light, he transformed and took to the sky. Unconstrained, he soared and spun, reveling in the glorious freedom.
“Hot damn, that doesn’t get less incredible!” I turned back toward Andie and saw the awe in her face.
Her plump lips were parted and her heavily lashed brown eyes were wide and full of wonder as the light behind her silhouetted her slender, taut body. Feeling a simultaneous surge of lust and self-loathing, I turned and walked toward where Jennifer and Zaruv were helping a somewhat shaky Pavar out of the Mecharover’s rear cab.
Pavar seemed to have recovered a considerable amount of strength during the road trip. He was no longer feverish, and though pale, he seemed to be fully lucid.
“Pavar, it is good to see you so improved,” I said, coming up to him and taking the arm Jennifer had been supporting.
“I have Jennifer to thank for that, I am sure.” His voice was scratchy and low.
“You also have the lovely Sergeant Titania to thank,” Zaruv supplied.
We had walked a hundred paces off from the mecharovers to the area we intended to set up the small portable domes of our camp. Jennifer unloaded her medical kit while Hardin and Andie were joking and laughing as th
ey unloaded several metal boxes of munitions.
Lowering Pavar down to sit on a box of camp equipment, we turned back to face the three humans of our group.
I felt an uneasy tension watching her toss her plait over her shoulder and share her smile with her flirtatious comrade. She had stripped off her overcoat on the ride and was clad only in a sleeveless fitted black top and black and brown militia pants.
Pavar looked interested. “Is that her then? She certainly is a comely rescuer. I should like to thank her very much, indeed.”
A low growl escaped my throat before I had the wherewithal to reign it in.
Zaruv and Pavar both turned to look at me, surprised.
“She is a human and we are at war. It would be foolish . . . and reckless of you to allow yourself to become distracted. Not to mention, irresponsible,” I blustered. Zaruv smiled slowly but said nothing.
Pavar spoke first. “Well, I don’t know about you, batr, but at the cusp of death, one feels a certain inclination to experience the full richness of life . . . especially when there are such appealing options available.” He smiled suggestively, and if he had not been so wounded already, I would surely have rendered him unconscious.
“If you allow such distractions, you won’t just be at the cusp. You’ll walk right into the arms of death,” I retorted.
Zaruv waded in. “Death is certain to meet us all, whether we walk toward it or not. While we live and breath, we should, all of us, seek what happiness we may be able to find.”
“You have changed, batr. I can remember a time, not so long ago, when no diversions of the flesh or otherwise would have distracted you from your duties,” I said, confused by the transformation I had been trying to ignore in my brother.
“Love changes us all, I think,” he replied calmly.
“So you and Jennifer have reached an understanding?” Pavar inquired.
Smiling, Zaruv returned, “As you have said, Pavar, facing one’s mortality certainly serves to clarify one’s perspective. You might try giving yourself leave to explore such experiences, Karun. Some battles are not worth fighting, especially when they are with yourself.”
The subtext finally dawned on Pavar. “Aha, I see I have missed much. Well, Karun, I will do you the selfless and brotherly favor of not pursuing those particular options. You are already so old, who knows if you will live to meet another lovely lady?”
Zaruv and Pavar both laughed, but I continued to argue, trying as much to convince myself as them.
“You need do me no favors. I will not be pursuing anything of the sort. I am not about to endanger us all by giving into impulses. I will admit that I find her intriguing, but I cannot overlook the fact that she is a human, which presents its own complications, but beyond that is the fact that we are on the run from our enemies. I can’t afford distractions.”
Pavar added, serious now, “Nor can you afford to miss a chance at happiness. We have already been dealt an unjust and illogical fate. Don’t let something good pass you by out of fear.”
Having landed in silence, Ragal spoke from behind us, “I could find no sign of our Infernian enemies. We should be safe to proceed with establishing our camp. So, are you discussing Karun’s attraction to Andromeda?”
I looked at him, surprised, and he added, “You are easy to read, batr. Or did you think I didn’t notice that you were too embarrassed to shift?”
I was growing particularly uncomfortable. “I was not embarrassed, and there is nothing to discuss. If I were just a man and she were just a woman, that might leave room for discussion. However, things are not so simple. This is just not the time to think about anything but our survival.”
“Technically, you are just a man now . . . a Dragselian man, perhaps, but what obligations do we have beyond those to ourselves and each other? We are princes in name only now. The fact that she is human is not a barrier, as none of us is likely to inherit, not with Mulkaro’s wife set to give birth,” Pavar pointed out.
Pavar’s words disturbed me greatly. They seemed to undercut the struggle I had been trying to deny since the moment of my father’s death. Stripped of my title, my home, my career, all of the things that had defined me . . . what was left of me?
At war with my thoughts and the dragon inside that demanded I seize and lay claim to the object of my desire, I was relieved when at last, Jennifer jogged over to check in with Ragal.
Night had fallen in earnest when at last the camp was prepared. Hardin had brought out a thermal generator that served to offset the chilling night temperatures, but only barely. We sat on overturned gear boxes around the generator, huddled close, while we tried to stomach our dinner.
The militia had dry pods, essentially condensed bricks of nutrient-dense algae, that tasted even worse than they looked. Jennifer had fortunately brought along a few things from her kitchen to make them slightly more palatable. The glutton of our group, Pavar, was not entirely happy with the selection.
“Yegh, this is worse than transport rations,” he said, referencing the freeze-dried purees that had sustained us during our flight.
Jennifer laughed. “I take it this is a far cry from Dragselian fare.”
“Pavar is a pig. You will note that he is still eating it though he complains like an old woman,” said Zaruv, sending Pavar a dark look for his lack of manners.
“I didn’t say it was inedible,” Pavar retorted.
“I don’t think you have ever encountered such a thing that fit that classification,” I joked.
“Ah, Karun, you are hilarious. It is a good thing you still have your wit, as your looks have already begun to fade.” Pavar then looked mischievously toward Andie.
“Sergeant Titania, did my brother keep you entertained during your drive?”
Andie looked surprised and somewhat suspicious to be drawn into our fraternal squabbling.
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I learned quite a bit about Dragselian culture. It was quite interesting,” she answered somewhat hesitantly.
“Ah, I’m sure Karun thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to share something of our culture with you. However, if you should find his decrepit company . . . lacking, I would be happy to further your education on all things dragon related.” I rolled my eyes at his blatant attempt to rile me.
Zaruv cut in, “Considering Karun is a full three years younger than myself, I can reliably say that men of our stature are anything but decrepit or lacking. But I suppose when you’re still wet behind the ears, it’s hard to tell the difference.”
Pavar countered, “Is this true, Jennifer?”
Jennifer, in turn, having finished her food, stood and turned to Pavar in a display of uncharacteristic friskiness. “All I can say is that I’ve never been disappointed with any of Zaruv’s . . . lessons on Dragselia.”
With that, Zaruv stood, pointedly grinned, and followed Jennifer to one of the white canvas domes. In an unspoken agreement, we all began to prepare for the night and made our ways to our own domes. I, however, volunteered to keep watch first.
An hour later, I heard a rustling from behind the mecharover Andie and I had ridden in. Swiftly and silently, I worked my way to the front of the vehicle and inched along the side, preparing to attack and sound an alarm to the others.
Closing my eyes, I felt the darkness, focusing on my senses and instincts, enhanced in comparison to that of a human’s. I flipped around the corner and pinned the intruder to the back of the truck.
Instantly, my mistake was clear as I registered the soft warmth of the woman beneath my hands. For a moment, we stayed still, one hand at the silky curve of her neck, the fine hairs that had fallen out tickling my fingers. I had used my other arm to shove against the supposed attacker’s torso, and it was still there, my forearm resting on the rise of her breasts.
My heart raced, and with my Dragselian senses, I could tell that hers did as well. My hand at her throat relaxed, fractionally, and I splayed my fingers against the heat of her skin. I wanted to press into that
warmth, to feel it surround and consume me, to claim her there, in the dark stillness of the night.
Realizing the intensity of my urges, I released her instantly and tried to apologize. “I’m sorry, I thought you were an Infernian.”
She stared at me a moment before speaking. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause alarm. I thought I was being silent. I couldn’t sleep. I thought maybe cleaning my rifle would help me relax. Too much on my mind, you know.”
“Are you afraid?” I asked
“Me? No, not afraid, just anxious. If they’re going to come for us, I want them to come sooner rather than later. I don’t like sitting and waiting.”
“There is virtue in patience, I have been told,” I replied teasingly.
She laughed, stepping forward just barely. “A Dragselian lesson, perhaps?”
“I believe it is a universal truth,” I countered.
“Yeah, I may have heard that before, but out here in No-Man’s Land, when you see something you want, you go for it.” She looked in my eyes as she said it, and the dragon in me screamed for release.
“That’s a rather dangerous attitude, don’t you think?” I said as I realized I was drawing nearer too.
“Maybe, but I don’t let fear make my decisions for me,” she purred.
“Perhaps you just don’t realize what forces you’re playing with,” I said, intoxicated by the sound of her heart beating, the sweet smell of her skin just inches from me.
“Maybe I need to be taught . . .”
She had no idea what she was inviting, could not imagine the appetite of the dragon within me. I stepped even closer to her, backing her up once more to the truck, my chest just brushing against her breasts, trying to show, to intimidate her but instead pushing myself beyond my own control.
“Yes, you do . . .” I growled as I took her mouth, ravenous with hunger.
She responded in kind, and we were two starving creatures, feasting on one another. I could feel myself losing my grip over my body. It was all I could do not to push her against the truck, to take her right there. Her body, supple in my hands, was calling to me. Her lips, pliant and luscious, responded and reacted, matching the cadence of my mouth on hers.