Sextus

by Alana Khan

  Perhaps I can play him.

  “You saw what kind of male I am on the front drive about an hour ago, Pet. I’m a male who kills people who disappoint him. I’m ruthless. I’m a male,” he leans forward, “who gets what he wants.”

  “And what does this male want?” My voice sounds hushed and breathless and sexually interested as I lean toward him over my untouched meal.

  “I want the Cerulean, Lexa. And perhaps, after you get me that, I’ll want you.”

  “I’ll help you with the big, blue bastard, Mr. Khour. No guarantees implied or intended about me, though.” I’m piercing his violet gaze with my own.

  “Where is he?”

  “I believe he left planet Salute a few hours before my new house tragically burned to the fucking ground. He was on the vessel Arum.”

  “The Cerulean looked fond of you, Lexa. Would he come rescue you if you called for help?”

  “I was just his pet, Mr. Khour, I have no idea. We could try. What, pray tell, would he be rescuing me from?”

  “Me.” He pins me with a dark stare full of equal measures of anger and lust, then speaks into his comm. Focusing back on me he says, “Eat up, Lexa. I imagine the Frains didn’t feed you well on that rust bucket they fly around in. You smelled like a dead Vorhon when you arrived.”

  A lavender male joins us and hands Khour a device I assume is a long-distance comm. “Hand me your blaster, Sirnan.” He holds out his palm and the underling reluctantly hands over his weapon. After what I saw on the driveway earlier, it seems like every interaction with Khour could be your last. I wouldn’t want to give my weapon to him either.

  “We tracked down the Cerulean, he’s on the vessel Morsus, sir,” Sirnan informs him.

  “We’ve just started doing business together, Lexa,” he pins me with a livid stare, “and you’ve lied to me already.” He points the weapon directly at my chest.

  “Call the port authority, Mr. Khour. See if the vessel Arum was slated to leave today. He was supposed to be on that. Perhaps it needed servicing.” I take a dainty bite of the green stuff on my plate. I have no idea what it is. I’m too nervous to taste anything, but I’m projecting as much bravado as I can muster.

  Two minutes later Khour receives the news that Sextus Marcus Auranious had been slated to fly out on the Arum, but changed to a different vessel right before liftoff.

  “Okay, it wasn’t a lie, Lexa. Telling the truth will save your life.”

  “Good to know.” I take a big bite of meat and chew like I’m enjoying a fine, aged steak even though it tastes like ass and I’d like to spit it out. “What do I need to do?”

  “You’re going to call your blue friend and tell him you’ve been kidnapped. Tell him we burned your house down, he’ll check that and it will corroborate your story. You’re going to sound scared—and you should be, because I’ll be aiming this blaster at your heart the entire time.”

  Five minutes later, they’ve hailed Sextus and I’m on the equivalent of a speakerphone. I wish I could see his handsome face, even if it’s just for a minute. It would reassure me. But no such luck.

  “Sextus,” he announces when he picks up. “Who is this?”

  “Hey, Six, it’s me.”

  “What do you need?” he asks irascibly.

  Ooh, smart male. I wonder if he has an inkling something’s wrong. He probably does, it was an unspoken agreement that we’d never talk again when I hurried off the ship the other day.

  “Funny you should ask. I, uh, need a little help.” I glance at Khour. Actually, I glance at the big-barreled laser blaster aimed at my heart, then at the detached amusement on Khour’s face.

  “Do tell.”

  “I was snatched from Salute after an unfortunate conflagration at my new house. I’m on Ortheon II enjoying Daneur Khour’s hospitality.”

  “How hospitable is he? I imagine he provides only the finest.”

  Six is smart, playing it close to the vest. He doesn’t know if I told Khour we were friends, lovers, or enemies. He’s not giving anything away about the nature of our previous relationship. I’d better let him in on our backstory.

  “I know you weren’t too happy when I bit your... Did I ever apologize for that by the way? And, really, I shouldn’t have threatened to blackmail you. That was wrong of me. I’ll go to hell for that. Which is why I’d really appreciate your help—I don’t want to die.”

  “What’s your ask, Lexa?” he says wearily.

  “He wants the Broog. He says he’ll let me go in exchange for the painting.”

  Six laughs derisively. Shit, he sounds as evil as the purple male sitting across from me. I never knew he was a good actor.

  “You think I’d exchange one of the most expensive paintings in the galaxy for you? Are you crazy? I had it appraised for a third time on Salute yesterday. That painting’s worth millions. Lexa, no piece of ass is worth that—even that pretty heart-shaped ass of yours.”

  “Here’s the deal, Six. You saw how good I am at klempto. I wasn’t lying about that. I’ll be your slave forever and be your cash cow. I can produce a steady income and suck your blue cock whenever you want. I’ll even be nice. What do you say?”

  “It would be easier to just sell the painting and not have to put up with your drack, Lexa.”

  He’s really laying it on; it’s an Academy-Award-winning performance.

  “You’ll only be able to fence the Broog for pennies on the dollar. Please,” I say eloquently.

  “Are you willing to call me Sir?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Okay, that seals the deal. Give me the coordinates.”

  Two minutes later we sign off. He has the coordinates and has given us an ETA. Khour has lowered his blaster, and I’m wondering if either Sextus or I will escape this fiasco with our lives.

  Sextus

  “Thantose, I need the Broog. I have a little gold left. I can give you everything I own in exchange for it.”

  “What’s going on, my friend?”

  “Khour kidnapped Lexa and is holding her in his well-fortified mansion on Ortheon II. He says he’ll exchange her for the painting.”

  “Of course you can have the Broog, Sextus. It’s worthless anyway; I’m not sure why we kept it. Where are you? We’ll meet halfway.”

  Thantose is an amazing male. He offered to accompany me to Ortheon and help me fight, but I refused. Khour will do one of two things: he’ll either do the deal honorably and let her go, or he’ll kill me, take the painting and keep Lexa. Thantose and the four other males on the Tranquility can’t provide enough backup to change the outcome of the exchange. If Thantose and his males show up they’ll all die and the females will be stranded. I won’t put all their lives in danger.

  With Thantose meeting me halfway, I’ll have the Broog in hand within eight hoaras. Then I’ll be twelve hoaras from Ortheon. The nav system can take care of the flying. I need to come up with a plan.

  I don’t want to put my cousin Bastien’s life in danger, but I’ll contact him and see if he can find the layout of Khour’s mansion for me.

  It’s only after my conversation with my cousin that I allow myself to think about Lexa. The little coward told me she loved me less than two days ago, then ran off the ship. I don’t know if that was the truth or just a gift she wanted to give me because she knew I wasn’t long for this plane of existence. Either way, I know she cares for me.

  And by the way my guts are tearing at themselves just thinking about the sadistic things Khour is probably doing to her right this minima, I know I care for her, too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lexa

  “A lifetime of sucking blue cock, Lexa? That’s what lies ahead for you? That was the best deal you could negotiate?”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Sextus is a fool; he’s easy to play. I’ll figure out a way to be rid of him soon. He’s all brawn and no brains. I’m not even sure he’s smart enough to know he’s flying into a trap.”

  “What
makes you think I’m not a man of my word?” He cocks a purple eyebrow as if my words wounded him.

  “I’m not gonna touch that other than to say your reputation precedes you.”

  I know the male could kill me without giving it a second thought, but I’m feeling frisky.

  “Just for my own edification,” I say as I take a bite of some soft, white concoction that tastes like a sweet cloud of perfection, “are you really going to release me in exchange for the Broog?”

  “Are you looking for honesty? To tell you the truth, I haven’t decided.”

  I hadn’t expected that level of sincerity.

  “Well, since we’re being honest, let me fill you in on a little secret. I really did bite the big, blue bastard. In a very sensitive place. I think you’d be happier with the Broog than me.”

  “I don’t have to choose, Lexa. If I want, I can have you both.”

  “Just sayin’, I don’t tend to make people happy.”

  “Just saying, I tend to kill people who don’t tend to make me happy.” He has a placid smile on his face. He’s telling the truth and enjoying our banter.

  “What’s with the Broog? No offense, but it’s ugly.” I change the subject. Talking about my imminent death is a topic I’d like to avoid.

  “I must admit, I was a little surprised by its lack of…”

  While he searches for the right word, I supply a few of my own, “Finesse? Talent? Expertise? Skill? Genius?”

  “Those words possibly fit.” He’s nodding his head.

  “Then why go to such lengths to attain a painting I wouldn’t hang in a dirty stable?”

  “I’m sure a plebeian like you would never understand.” He tips his head back so he can literally look down his nose at me. “There are thirty-two existing Broogs in the known universe. He’s most acclaimed for those completed during what’s known as his ‘red period.’ There are only three of those in existence. I already have the other two. These are priceless. Unattainable. And I will have them all.”

  He says this as if it explains everything.

  “So...it’s like killing the last rhinoceros? The joy of possessing something no one else will ever be able to have because of you?”

  “Exactly. I don’t have to enjoy the painting. The point is I will own it.”

  It explains a lot. Actually, it explains why he’s thinking of keeping me. I’m simply something someone else wants, so he wants me, too.

  This makes me realize he thinks Six wants me. How can I convince him Six doesn’t want me, he’s just doing something nice? That will be hard, since Khour can’t relate to anyone doing anything altruistic.

  “Let’s play klempto,” I say as I toss my head. “Heads up.” I’d like to keep him busy until Six arrives, perhaps it will keep sex off his mind.

  “What do you want to play for? You have little to bet with.” He smirks.

  “Stake me. It will make it fun.” Shit, I suggested klempto to keep him from thinking of sex, and he’s seconds away from suggesting we play strip poker.

  “If you don’t have any investment in the game, it sucks the fun out of it.”

  I just wait, I’m certain he’ll supply a few suggestions any second now.

  “How about…” He pauses, faking deep concentration as if he hadn’t already thought up his perverted ideas before the conversation even started. “Articles of clothing?”

  He acts as if he’s oh-so-clever. Does he have no idea this Earth girl learned such things in grade school?

  “And what are you anteing up?”

  “Why, money, of course.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe, Mr. Khour, but money doesn’t motivate every being in the universe. How about my freedom, my life, and just for fun—throw in the life of the Cerulean.

  “Aha, I knew there was more between you two than master and slave.”

  “He’s risking life and limb to come rescue me. The least I can do is save his ugly, blue carcass. I’ve only got two articles of clothing. Loan me your rings.” He’s wearing six of them; they look like they weigh five ounces each.

  “You have two articles of clothing, I have two things you want—your life and the life of Sextus Marcus Auranious. We’re perfectly matched.” He cocks his head arrogantly.

  I pause a moment and remember every detail I gleaned from playing with him for three days on Lusion. I see it in my head like a fast montage from a music video. I recall every tip of his head, dart of his eyes, lick of his lips, and the timber of his voice when he was bluffing. He was too busy doing business at the klempto table to pay attention to much other than his own two cards. I’m certain I know his tells better than he knows mine.

  Which is helpful to a point, but sometimes the game simply boils down to who gets the best cards. It’s lady luck at her most basic, and two lives hang in the balance.

  “Sirnan,” he barks into his wrist comm, “bring me two decks of cards.”

  I nervously wipe my palms on my thighs. I’m wearing the scarlet and orange kimono and a pair of red panties provided by Vella. I’ll be playing for my life and the life of the man I love against the most ruthless male in the galaxy. What could possibly go wrong?

  Sirnan hits the door at a jog and presents Khour with two decks of cards, still sealed in their boxes. I don’t trust him for a second. This could be a ploy, the cards could be marked. He makes a mini-spectacle of cracking the seal.

  “Mind if I inspect?” I toss him an insincere smile as if I didn’t just insult the shit out of him.

  He passes the cards to me. The table’s been cleared and cleaned, stripped of its fine linens, and is the perfect size to play a friendly game of cards. This game, however, will be anything but friendly.

  I meticulously scrutinize the cards. Back on Earth, I was taught every technique to mark a deck from dots in the corners and bowed cards, to minute variations in the design on their backs. I inspect for each of these things and more. I can see nothing.

  I glance up to see that Khour has put on his reading glasses. Ahhh, not even subtle, asshole.

  “Mr. Khour, can I try your glasses? I’ve been having trouble reading small print lately, I’d love to see if glasses will help.” He smiles slyly, knowing I’ve caught him. When I try on his glasses, I see a floating, full-sized, 3-D representation of the face of the card hovering above the card. He’s so busted.

  “Would you mind if I borrow these spectacles, sir? Everything is so much clearer with them on.”

  He laughs, puts his hand out for the glasses, and sets them aside. “Let’s play without them, Lexa.”

  “You’re such a good player, Mr. Khour.” I’m not above sucking up. “I wouldn’t think you’d need to use a trick like that.”

  “Winning is always more fun than losing, Lexa.”

  “Yep.” Okay, the moment of truth. In ten minutes my fate, as well as Sextus’s, will be sealed. It suddenly strikes me like a two-hundred-mile-an-hour freight train that this game will be for life and death. What if I lose? What if I die? And what if I lose a freaking game of cards and sentence the male I love to death? What was I thinking?

  “What are you anteing up for the first hand?” he asks.

  “My panties. And you?”

  He moves his head from side to side, giving this serious thought. “I’m just thinking what would put the most pressure on you. I love to see people squirm. Since I think you do care about the Cerulean, and since the removal of your panties will be so much less amusing than your kimono, let’s play for your life first. By the second round, I imagine your small, pink hands will be trembling.” He smiles, showing canines that look positively wolfish.

  “My panties for my life. Let’s have Sirnan shuffle.” My voice sounds steady. My hands are, too. A casual observer would never know that my insides are quaking at 10 on the Richter scale.

  His minion joins us at the table, shuffles three more times, and deals us each two cards face down. I get seven and nine, not suited. I normally don’t play that hand; it can
win, but isn’t a strong one.

  The outcome of this game will come quickly since there will be no betting—we have nothing left to bet with.

  Sirnan lays out the first three cards: Ace, Ace, ten. I glance up and see Khour spearing me with a smug look. Since there will be no more betting, he turns his two cards face up; he has Ace, three. He’s got three of a kind, I have absolutely nothing. The next card is an eight which gives me a longshot for a straight, which beats three of a kind. Miraculously, the last card is a six, giving me the straight.