The taller of the two, with amber and cream stripes, thrashed his tail in annoyance. “Woman, you will cease your mewling.”
Oh, Mr. Space Cat didn’t like that? Didn’t like listening to a woman scream? So I screamed some more. “No! Don’t touch me! No!” And I know the Tal are not, technically, space cats, but they have tails and pointed ears with tufts of fur. The design aesthetic is all feline. But never say that to a Tal, not if you like your skin perforation free. The Tal had retractable claws, too. Space. Cats.
Irritated, the Tal shoved me through a door. It locked behind me. I kicked and pounded on the door but I knew the two crewmen ran away as fast as possible from my mewling.
The lights in the room were dim but I seemed to be in someone’s quarters. Possibly the captain’s judging by the size. The decor was...not what I expected from smugglers. I expected sparse and well worn, rag tagged even but this was lush. The entire area seemed designed for comfort. Pillows, cushions and throw blankets covered every surface. There was a large, overstuffed chair, a chaise lounge, a sofa with deep cushions, a little bistro style table in one corner, and an expensive chest of deep polished wood. Candles and lanterns covered every surface, the artificial lights flickering. Of course it wasn’t a real candle on a spaceship. That’s just begging for an explosion. Potted plants added greenery and luxury to the space. Soft music played, a Terran instrumental. Every object, every decor item pointed to the centerpiece of the room, the large bed on the far wall.
Pillows, bolsters and thick comforters piled high on the bed. The sheets looked to be real cotton, polished smooth, colors a deep, inviting red. Fine netting created a canopy around the bed, like there were insects on the spaceship that needed to be repelled. I bet the mattress was softer than feathers, maybe that high tech foam stuff, but I wasn’t touching that bed. I would get a disease. A smuggler’s disease.
The quarters clearly belonged to a man who liked to...entertain ladies. I frowned. Did I know that? Given the way the Fremm smuggler’s eyes ate me up and then glared at Glin, yes. Totally into the ladies. But he recognized Glin. They knew each other. Interesting.
The floor shuddered. I sank to my knees with nerves. The ship was taking off. We were leaving Blackborn. This day just keeps getting better and better.
A white lace dress, shoes and a wrap waited on the bed. I held up the dress, judging the size correct for me. Clearly the smuggler wanted me to wear this but I rebelled, not wanting to give him anything. Still, I was wearing a shirt and panties and nothing else. Either I continue to walk around with my behind hanging out or let the smuggler play dress up doll with me. Either way he wins.
I scanned the room for cameras, because this seemed like exactly the type of situation for sleazy hidden cameras. I didn’t see anything obvious and put on the dress. Thin straps held it up and the sides were open to the waist, letting a lot of side boob action happen. I placed the wrap around me. Who even has these type of clothes just hanging around? Oh, that’s right, men who like to “entertain”. Stars, the place makes me want a bath in the worst way. I need to scrub off the sleazeball.
“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” a voice said behind me.
I turned around. The slate blue Fremm had a wicked smile. What did Glin call him? Traitor. And Ruush. “I don’t know if I could be comfortable with this much smarm.”
He laughed. “You have a translation implant.”
“Yes,” I said. “How did you know.”
“Because you probably wanted to say something other than compliment me on my ‘performance’. But let me assure you,” Ruush said, stepping disturbingly close to me. His hand reached for my chin and tilted my head upwards. His low voice rumbled me to my core. “It’s a hell of a performance.”
Oh.
I backed away. “What do want from me?”
Ruush’s eyes swept up my form, lingering just long enough on my hips and chest to make me need that shower desperately. “How about breakfast and then we talk business?”
“I don’t have any business with you.”
A grin played at the corner of his mouth. “Food first. I realize the hour is early and you looked so comfy all snuggled up next to your pet warrior. I figured you didn’t have time for a meal.”
I hated his tone. Glin wasn’t my pet. He wasn’t my anything. He made that abundantly clear last night. The aroma of food on the table drifted across the room. My stomach rumbled. “Fine,” I said. “But no moves.”
Ruush bowed his head slightly. “Only if you ask for my moves.”
Ick. Just ick.
A large serving tray waited on the table. “Are those pancakes?” I asked. And eggs, toast, sliced tomatoes, bacon and even a carafe of an orange liquid. It couldn’t be real orange juice. Real oranges were just too expensive. I’d only ever had the reconstituted powdered stuff.
Ruush must have noticed the puppy dog eyes I made at the carafe because he poured me a glass. The juice was acidic, tart and sweet, just like the real thing. The rest of the meal, however, was not real. Flat and bland, it must have been generated by the ship’s processor. Still, better than a ration bar or more rabbit.
“How do you know what Terrans eat for breakfast?” I asked, chewing through the rubbery pancakes.
“Funny thing about Terrans,” Ruush said absently, spreading a deep purple jam on a piece of toast. The sharp aroma coming off the jam said it might be real but there was no telling. “From practically the moment after first contact, you were screwing aliens. Terrans seem to be,” he paused, licking the remnants of the jam off the butter knife, “flexible in that regard. Certainly your sister sees the appeal. I guess you do, too. Good little breeders, too, having an estrous every month. The civilized species only manage it once a year, popping out teeny tiny half-xeno babies.”
He wanted to upset me. I ignored his taunting words and chewed the flavorless bacon.
“My father was Terran,” Ruush said. “This was his favorite meal.”
That was quite the sharp corner he steered the conversation around, going from snarky comments about human-xeno sexuality and then his father at breakneck speed. His strategy must be to upset and then hit with emotional sentimentality. Poor little smuggler with his Terran father. That routine was so not working on this girl.
“Pulling out all the stops to impress me?” I asked. No, don’t, I scolded myself. Don’t flirt with him. Don’t play his game and let him charm you. Be firm. What would Glin do? Be grumpy. I forced my mouth into a frown as I poked the eggs. They were springy so the frown wasn’t much of an act. The Fremm smuggler was trying to turn my head with a story about his father and real orange juice. Frown.
“I thought you’d be tired of ration bars and whatever dead animal Glin flung at you,” he said.
I snickered. Bad Vera. Don’t laugh. “I dunno, this seems more like a morning-after breakfast, not a I-need-to-steal-my-friend’s-girl type of breakfast.”
He arched an eyebrow but said nothing, taking a long drink of the real orange juice. “I’m going to like you,” he finally said. “Shame Glin saw you first.”
Like Glin was doing anything about it.
My face must not have been as blank and inscrutable as I thought because Ruush grinned in triumph. He scored the point for this round. “We gonna talk business?” I asked, irritated.
“Right now I’m trying to decide which would give me more pleasure: rolling in the mountain of credits I’ll get for ransoming your pretty face or making that judgmental asshole sorry.”
“So you do know Glin,” I said.
“My misspent youth on the straight and narrow, I’m afraid,” he said. “I use to rub shoulders with the most uptight people. No sense of humor. But you like to laugh; I can see it in your eyes.”
Great, back to the heavy handed smarm. “Look, the orange juice is impressive. I’m sure it fell off the back of the spaceship or whatever, but I’m not going to…” Images flashed through my mind of last night with Glin, the look of defiance in his
eyes when he stroked his cock, holding my gaze and the utter triumph when he spilled onto his hands. His body glowed with those strange stripes on his torso, hot with desire for me but not willing to touch me. I blushed and said, “To do whatever you think you need to get me to do to hurt Glin.”
That’s when I noticed Ruush’s face. I mean, really noticed. Sure, he had handsome features, a strong jaw and wild dark hair which epitomized his devil-may-care career choice. His face was expressive but only in the regular human ways: eyes, mouth, and tone of voice. No marks burned on his face, or any skin for that matter. He must have legendary control over his emotions to keep everything blank.
“But I could be persuaded,” I said and reached out to brush my thumb across the back of his hand. Nothing. No bioluminescence.
Ruush drew his hand back quickly, all mirth and flirtation gone from his voice. “You noticed a lot faster than most Terrans, I’ll give you that.”
“What is that?”
“My deformity,” he said, bitterness creeping into his voice. “Being half-Terran means I lack a vital piece of Fremmian social interaction. I have no luminescence and it freaks out the squares.” Then a theatrical grin spread across his handsome face. “Good for business, though.”
Yeah, being able to keep your thoughts to yourself must be helpful when you’re a liar and crook.
“Is that what you think I do?” He asked.
I guess that last bit wasn’t internal dialogue. “You are going to ransom me. I mean, how generously should I regard a man willing to sell me into slavery?”
He drew back like my words stung. “I don’t deal with the flesh trade,” he said.
“But the Tal are slavers and most of your crew is Tal.”
“I am the captain!” His voice filled the room. “My ship does not deal with slavers.”
“But thieves are good people?”
Ruush leaned across the table, eyes cold and flinty, all his mirth gone. “I could tell you stories about your big blue crush that would curl your hair.”
My hair was already curly but I said nothing, daring him to fill the silence.
“Our mutual friend is a berserker. Do you know what that is?” I did not but I wasn’t going to tell the smuggler that. “It means,” he continued, “that he completely loses control on the battlefield. Bloodlust they call it. His mind just leaves him and what is left is a killing machine, a monster. Maybe you’ve seen it?”
My mind flashed back to Glin pummeling the inky wolf creatures, caving in their skulls with his fists.
“It’s terrifying. He’s little more than an animal. Of course, he was our animal. Our pet monster. We aimed him in the right direction and just let him go, following the wake of destruction. Now, this isn’t so unusual. There are plenty of berserkers in the military. It’s a sought after position. Everyone needs a murder machine. But those men are able to contain it, to unleash their urges for mindless slaughter only in battle. Glin can’t control himself.”
Here Ruush paused and gave a chuckle at my rapt attention. Yes, I was on the edge of my seat, riveted and I didn’t care if he knew it.
“What did Glin do?”
“He likes to beat up women. Well, there’s just the one I know about.”
My blood went cold. To injure a woman was the greatest offense, Glin said. It was unforgivable.
“We were out on the town, drinking and picked up some girls. Nothing classy or even tasteful but we were little more than boys and these women were going to make us men. But not Glin. He got his dick in a woman the first time and he lost his mind. He just went blank and started to strangle her.” Ruush refilled my glass of orange juice. “I pulled him off but he did a real number on her. Crushed her larynx. Bruises so deep and purple she’ll never be the right shade again. Eyes swollen. Lip busted. Ribs cracked. Scared to death. Nearly to death.”
And that was the man I craved. A man who nearly beat a woman to death when he had sex. Everything in me went cold.
Ruush stood next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. He leaned down and brushed the hair behind my ear. “To think you’re worried about me trading you to slavers when you should be scared shitless that I’m going to put you back in a cell with that animal.”
“Are… are you going to put me in a cell with him?”
“Of course. I need him to know I told you his dirty secret. I need him to see the fear in your eyes and have him understand that I put it there.” A finger under my chin turned my face towards his. “Can you do that for me? Let him know that I took away the trust of the woman he loves?”
I nodded but Ruush was wrong. Glin didn’t love me. He was dangerous and I kept throwing myself at him, tempting a monster.
Chapter Eighteen
Vera
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t look at Glin. We were stuck in this cell, which was little more than a storage closet, and I heard every breath he took but all I could think about was the poor woman he nearly killed.
Nearly.
Because Ruush pulled him off, like I pulled him off the wolf creatures.
I’m in a tiny room with a man who turned into a monster. He paced. He grumbled. He tossed me a scathing look, as if challenging me. I said nothing. I sat on the floor, legs folded lotus style and my back pressed against the way. Finally, Glin cannot stand the silence. “What did the traitor tell you,” he demands.
I am so tired of this.
I cock my head to one side, as if seeing the Fremm warrior for the first time. Sure he was big, muscular, ripped, actually, and moved with a feral grace like a predator. Because he is. I understand that now. And he’s scarred. There’s the obvious one that pulls down the corner of his mouth into a permanent scowl but I’ve seen the others on his arms, back and thighs. The thick tissue pulled at his skin but he’s even more gorgeous despite the scarring. Because of the scarring. And I even liked his sour attitude, the way his frustration would burn on his twilight skin but never did anything to make me feel afraid. Our first encounter on Juno, he was so agitated he pulled out his axe and threatened me; even then I did not feel afraid. I just knew I would be safe with this scowling, grumpy, too serious warrior.
Ruush took that away.
“I’m tired, Glin,” I said.
“You should sleep,” he said, still pacing.
I am tired from more than physical exhaustion. I’m tired of the way my attraction to Glin pulls me towards him only to have him push me away. I’m tired of him being unexpectedly kind and generous and then cold, unfeeling. Ruush opened my eyes to the situation. “No, Glin,” I said. “I’m tired of us. Of whatever the fuck this is between us.” I waved my hand dismissively in his direction.
“I’m tired of wanting you, knowing you want me and then you pushing me away.” The more I spoke the angrier I got. So it wasn’t the brightest idea to loose my temper with a berserker but it was too late for reason now. “Mostly I’m tired of you treating me like being attracted to me is repulsive.”
His back straightened and the pacing stopped.
“I know you want me, Glin. I know what you shouted when you were beating those wolf things. I know. But I can’t forgive what you said to me that night.”
“You’re Terran,” he said, voice quiet. “I needed to tell you…”
This bullshit again? “Fremmians don’t lie, Glin. I’m Terran. I can’t change that and I’m tired of your prejudice. If being with a Terran is awful for you, fine. Plenty of other fish in the sea. Just leave me alone.”
“I cannot.”
“Well tough shit, because I’m done with you.”
“What did Ruush tell you?”
“Enough.” Enough to know I need to move forward, without him.
So the tension in the cell was thick. Just a tad. Glin kept looking at me and rubbing his chin, like he was working on a complex math problem. Scowl, grumble, stomp stomp stomp: Glin in a nutshell.
When a crewman brought us food and water, I demanded to speak to Ruush. I knew he would come, if on
ly to bask in the complete awkward silence between Glin and myself.
“You’re looking a little blue, Vera,” Ruush said, grinning at his terrible joke. “Not as flexible as you liked to be?”
“I’m not eating this crap,” I said.
“Tough cookies.”
“Look, I know you have some real stuff on board. Let me make something. Even cooking ingredients from the processor is better than whatever that is.” That was a bowl of green soup with a heavy vinegar aroma. Ugh. No thanks. The sandwich on the side was equally unappealing. The bread was white but the contents, lettuce, tomato and sliced ham, were also green.
“And why would I do that?” Ruush asked.
“Because my sister is a chef.”
“But you’re not.”
“You think we didn’t cook at home? That I haven’t made a thousand meals with Evie? Learning?”
“But Vera,” Glin started to say.
“Oh, shut up!” I snapped. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”
Ruush rubbed his hand on his chest, over where his heart would be if it wasn’t shriveled and black. A grin of pure delight split his face. This is exactly the show he wanted, me rejecting Glin’s affections. I don’t know what grudge he had against Glin that he needed to be see the big man emotionally tortured but I happily complied. “This is precious,” he said. “A lover’s quarrel. Not your first, because I know our Glin is hard headed, but a good one. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
I wanted to punch him in his stupid handsome face. “I just want out of here. I can’t stand to look at him.”
“That is closer to the truth,” Ruush said, “so I’ll indulge you, Vera. Just this once.”
Ruush let me out of the cell but slapped a monitoring bracelet on my wrists. I knew Glin was upset with me. Everything I said was mostly true. I was tired of the emotional whiplash with him. I was not going to apologize for tempting the mighty Fremm warrior with my frail human body. I did want to move on and never revisit the subject.
Alien Warrior's Mate: Alpha Alien Romance (Alpha Aliens of Fremm Book 3) Page 8