by Cathryn Cade
She drew in a hiss of pure rage, her emerald eyes going molten.
Good—let her have a taste of the frustrated rage he’d been battling since he laid eyes on her and realized that here was the woman of his dreams—his fervid, tormenting dreams—and that she would never be his… unless she agreed to his terms, which she was unlikely to do. Why should she, when she could enjoy any male she chose, for as long as she chose, instead of pledging herself to just one?
“I presume you had an important reason for following me?” she asked with dangerous softness. “And for spying on me?”
“It will wait,” he bit out.
He’d come on this voyage to look for a woman—a far different kind of woman. The kind who’d saved herself for marriage and who was chaste. Instead, he’d taken one look across that hellhole of a bar on Solaria and fallen like a space rock for this beauty, a warrior who could fell a man as easily with a kick or a look—and did both with regularity.
He turned his back on her before she could reply and before he could do what he really wanted: throw her over his shoulder, carry her off to his quarters and toss her in his shower-dry until she’d been through three or more cleaning cycles. And then…imprint his own touch and scent on her, so thoroughly she would never want another.
Slamming through an open hatchway, he raced down one of the many small spiral staircases, not caring where it led as long as it was away from her and what he wanted of her.
Chapter Four
The doors of the Orion’s arboretum slid open, and a young passenger wandered in, clad in brief vacation wear. Mina Starline inhaled a deep breath of the damp air, full of the mysterious spicy scents of the lush, green foliage. A brilliantly colored bird darted past her head and she ducked, then giggled.
Flipping back her long blonde hair, artfully streaked with pale blue and turquoise, she touched the jeweled earpiece of her com-link. The melting tones of a hit love song filled her ears as she wandered along the winding path to the edge of the grotto-like pool.
Sinking down on a large faux rock, she gazed at the cascading waterfall. Trailing fern fronds danced in the spray. Orchids dangled, delicate pink and orange blossoms swaying.
It had been worth every bit of wheedling, convincing her parents to give her a cruise for her birthday. Wait until she told her friends in Frontiera City about the hot Serpentian ship guards.
Chaz Jaguari launched into the chorus of his ballad, “I would follow you to the end of the stars,” in his trademark lazy growl.
But instead of listening, Mina wrinkled her nose. What was that smell? It reminded her of a family vacation on their home planet of Frontiera. They had stayed in a geo-tent and in the evenings sat around a fire made of wood.
She peered into the deep shadows beyond the pool. Had someone or something moved back there? If there were other passengers in here, she wished they would speak. Lurking was just creepy.
Another, larger bird burst out of the shrubbery, trailing purple feathers and golden topknot. It uttered a liquid burble as it landed on the path and strutted toward her. She sighed with relief—only a gemcock.
The bird stopped midstride, one claw lifted, head cocked to peer in her direction. Then suddenly it dropped its jeweled tail and scurried away behind a large clump of gently swaying orchids.
Hearing a sound behind her, Mina froze. That had sounded like footsteps—and not those of any bird. A low growl followed, sending a chill of fear through her. Oh, stardust, she was obviously not the only being in here, and she really didn’t want to meet the owner of that menacing growl.
She shot off of the rock, looking around her. This path must come out by one of the doors. She scurried around another bend in the path. The footsteps sounded again, closer behind her. She whirled.
“W-who’s there? Show yourself,” she said, her voice quavering.
The foliage rustled violently, and the scent of smoke filled her nostrils again. Her eyes wide, she stood frozen with terror as a huge, golden shape emerged from the shadows.
Half man, half mythical beast, he stood upright like a man, looked like one in most respects except that his skin had a golden, scale-like sheen. His forehead looked even more reptilian, plated in heavy scales which swept up from a point to form prominent brow bones, then rose to two flaring horn-like protrusions above his skull. And behind his back—were those wings?
He looked like a…a dragon!
He looked straight at her with his fiery golden eyes, and his lips parted, revealing glistening white teeth. He emitted a deep, guttural growl and took a step toward her. That was when she realized he was naked and a huge golden phallus hung between his thighs.
With a faint whimper, she fainted, collapsing to the soft earth.
The beast stalked nearer. For a long moment he loomed over her, his nostrils flaring as he drew in her feminine scent. His mighty claws clenched into fists. Throwing back his head, he let out a roar that echoed through the quiet arboretum. Flames shot from his mouth, arcing through the air to a low hanging branch. Smoke billowed. A bunch of leaves smoldered and then hung limp, wisps of smoke drifting upward.
With a low hiss, artificial rain began to patter down through the branches—the arboretum sprinklers reacting to the fire. The drops fell in silver curtains until every hint of smoke disappeared.
The rain spangled the dragon’s shoulders, ran in rivulets down over his horn-plated skull. Shaking the moisture from his partially furled wings with an irritable twitch, the dragon paced down the path and stopped at the curve to look toward the main doors. He sniffed the damp air and tilted his head to listen. His jeweled eyes examined the lush growth. At last, satisfied that there was no sound save the pooling raindrops, dripping off the leaves and that nothing else breathed in the arboretum save the birds, he turned back.
She lay where she had fallen, a delicate picture of feminine grace in her pale outfit, her long blonde hair flung out in disarray across the mosses. Molten gaze fastened on her, he prowled slowly nearer.
The female was young, lovely and completely defenseless. He could do what he wanted, with no one the wiser. But she was not the prey he desired.
He flung back his head and roared his frustration and rage to the jungle.
Sirena stepped out of the shower-dry unit in her beautifully appointed stateroom and stretched. Ah, that was better. The hot water and her special herbal soap had soothed her, helping her regain her earlier relaxation. She would sleep like a hatchling for the rest of the night—if she could stop thinking about Slyde Stone.
Drat the big fang-lizard. Bad enough that she’d most enjoyed another perfectly good male when he was watching, but now he’d attacked her verbally. Just wait until they were on duty—she’d give him the tirade he deserved.
She frowned into her mirror. Her freshly washed hair waved back off her face to fall about her shoulders, bright as flame against the pale gold of her skin, accentuating her emerald eyes.
Smoothing her hands down over her hips, she relaxed, her full lips curving up in a tiny smile. She had the body of a courtesan, voluptuous and lithe. It was only when she moved that one saw the taut muscles, the balance and grace in each movement.
Males loved her body. Rarely did one refuse her. In fact, she had to only to select from those who pursued her. As Slyde had not.
But he was jealous. Her eyes narrowed as a thrill of pleasure shot through her. She gave her body where she chose, for as long as she chose. But with Slyde… perhaps she could use his jealousy to reel him in. She definitely knew what to do with him once she got him.
Touching her lips, she imagined him bending to kiss her. She drew in a shaken breath, and stared at herself in the mirror. What had come over her? Just the thought of that great hulk kissing her had her silly as a young girl.
She shook her head, turning away from the mirror. She was as big a fool as he. She curled her lip delicately—his exclusive approach to sexuality was clearly the cause of his anger. Serpentians were highly sensual creatures and
suffered sexual frustration if not allowed frequent outlet for their passions.
She’d just belted her flame-silk robe about her waist when her com-link sounded. She tossed her head impatiently, wanting to rip the tiny ear piece out and throw it across her room. The new surgically implanted com-links meant that one was never out of reach, but that was sometimes a curse rather than a blessing.
“Speak,” she snapped. She wanted rest. Her lover had fallen asleep immediately after their last coupling, but she never allowed herself to fall asleep with a male. It left a woman too vulnerable. Males had superior strength—a female must be watchful of every look, every intonation, using cunning to manage brawn.
“Commander, you’d better see this.” The voice was that of Raile, one of her guards.
“Holo-vid on.” She focused her attention on the holographic image that sprang to life.
Raile sat beside a narrow exam table in the infirmary, holding the hand of a pretty human in tourist wear who gazed up at him as if he were her savior. Dr. Tentaclar, the Orion’s physician, stood on the other side of her.
“Continue.” Sirena sank onto her divan, watching closely.
“This is Mina Starline,” Raile said. “Mina, can you tell the commander what you saw in the arboretum?”
The girl nodded, her lip quivering. “I saw a dragon. It was a dragon…and a man, at the same time.”
Sirena blinked. A dragon? She could recall no beings on board who could be mistaken for such a mythical creature. There were the Lupinians, but with those short stubby horns, they resembled Earth bovines or hummels more than any other creature.
If only Commander Navos was here—he could tap into the girl’s thoughts, ascertain which was true. But he wouldn’t board until they passed by his home planet of Indigon tomorrow.
“Were you touched or harmed in any way?” she asked.
The girl shook her head. Dr. Tentaclar agreed. “My examination shows no sign of any physical contact.”
“Raile? What does the security holo-cam show?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. There was an aberration in the feed for that area of the ship.”
Sirena frowned. Unusual. That would have to be checked. “You searched the arboretum carefully?”
“Yes, Commander. We did find some singed branches, but that could’ve been the glow-torches at the wedding last evening. The only recent life traces found were from garden crew and passengers. Oh, and Commander Stone had walked through a short time before the, er, incident.”
“And he noticed nothing?”
“His com-link is off. But wouldn’t he have alerted you?”
She nodded. That settled it. If there had been any being or creature in the undergrowth, Slyde’s Serpentian senses would have picked it up, even in his foul mood. “Dr. Tentaclar?”
Two of the doctor’s several eyestalks swung her way. He winked solemnly.
“I believe the best thing for our young patient would be a medicinal libation and a good night’s rest.”
Raile’s handsome face fell. “You mean you’re going to give her a sleeper?”
“I think he means we comp her a couple of free drinks in the nightclub,” Sirena said dryly.
“Commander, I’ll take very good care of her,” Raile promised.
“I have no doubt you will. Thank you, Doctor.”
Sirena closed the com-link, but sat for a moment. A dragon-man, hmm? She’d met many strange beings in the course of her interplanetary travel, but none that resembled a dragon or could breathe fire.
In fact, it sounded as if the girl had been watching holo-videos of Serpentian legends. The Dragolins, dragon kings of the mountains, were the subject of many a children’s tale. She smirked. Perhaps Slyde Stone was a Dragolin. That would explain both his great size and his demand for monogamy. The legendary beings were said to have mated for life.
As different as could be from her typically Serpentian father, who had drifted away when she was a hatchling, returning only for casual visits. For an instant she remembered herself as a little girl, weeping in her mother’s arms as she watched him fly off through the sunny desert.
Sirena shook off the memory with an annoyed hiss. Great serpents, but she needed sleep. She was becoming maudlin. She rose, stretched and then let her silk robe fall in a slither of color behind her as she slid naked into her bed.
Mina Starline fell asleep with a smile. Her space cruise adventure now had the added cachet of a frightening encounter with an alien being. She hadn’t been hurt, either, so she’d have the fun of recounting every nuance of the creature’s appearance and her own emotions to her friends, but she hadn’t been raped or murdered.
And she had met the handsome, sexy guard Raile. So far it was a great cruise.
Chapter Five
Sirena glided into the command deck of the Orion. The sleek command console framed a breathtaking view of deep black space, dotted with twinkling stars. Nearby glimmered the deep purple of a small planet. Flung out behind it lay the red gold shimmer of a swirling nebula, light years away.
Nearly all the Orion’s crew commanders were seated in the tall-backed chairs. Halix, head of operations, his round lavender face beaming; Ogg, chief mechanic, wiry and weathered; Dr. Tentaclar, head medical officer; Panthar, the Tygean navigator, relaxed as a big hunting cat on a limb; Mra, the Pangaean chief interpreter, shimmering with a faint green aura. They all wore the silver grey of the Orion, with commander epaulets over the symbols of their specialties.
Only Sirena wore the distinctive golden yellow guard uniform. But she knew it was not only that which made every male turn and watch her entrance. She smiled as she sank gracefully into her seat, accepting their admiration as her due.
The lean blonde man in the captain’s chair nodded to her. “Sirena.”
“Captain,” she returned. She looked enquiringly at the empty chair beside him. “Commander Navos has not returned?”
“His shuttle just boarded,” Captain Steve Craig replied. “He should be joining us in a few moments.”
“He has recovered from the strain of having to examine the entire crew and passenger roster on our last voyage?” Mra asked, her green corn-silk hair waving gently with compassion. “He was exhausted.”
Craig nodded, brows drawing together. “Yes. Dr. Tentaclar will be keeping an eye on him on this run to make sure he doesn’t overdo.”
“Several, in fact,” chirped the doctor, waggling his eyestalks.
Sirena joined in the chuckle of response. She liked and respected the Orion’s chief medical officer. On their last voyage, Tentaclar’s skill had ensured that a young guard, attacked by a vicious saboteur, suffered neither pain nor lasting injury.
“Tessa is well?” Mra echoed Sirena’s thoughts.
Their captain’s blue eyes softened. “She’ll be joining us in a few days. Had to organize our new condo on Earth II.”
Ogg nodded. “Lots of wedding gifts to put away. That takes time. A bride likes to line her nest the way she wants it.”
Panthar eyed him with lazy interest. “You married, Ogg?”
“Was once,” the mechanic replied in his gravelly voice. “Didn’t last.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Ogg shrugged. “Don’t miss her. Too busy taking care of this lady.”
The hatch slid open again, and a deep, smoky voice sounded behind Sirena’s chair.
Her pulse galloped, although she remained outwardly serene.
“Sorry, Captain,” said Slyde Stone. “I was pursuing a small investigation.”
Sirena looked at him sharply as he slid into the chair beside her. He shook his head as their eyes met.
“Later,” he murmured as the hatchway slid open once again.
Craig smiled, his face creasing attractively. “Commander Navos, welcome back.”
Sirena looked at the lean man who stood in the hatchway. With the cool face of an ascetic, he gave the impression of leashed power. His eyes were a deep indigo, nearly black as his hair.
“Captain. Commanders. I trust the lateness of my arrival has caused no inconvenience.”
He sat. Above the center of the console, a multi-dimensional holo-video sprang to life, swirling through a complicated pattern that became the LodeStar corporate logo—a sleek ship speeding toward a guiding star. After a moment, the ship accelerated out of the hologram, and the area settled to a quiet glow, awaiting input commands.
Craig looked around at all of them.
“Crew commanders, welcome aboard the third voyage of the Orion. As you know, we are bound for Carillon, by way of Aquarius and Hibernux. Thanks to the news services, the whole galaxy knows that we were attacked on both of our previous voyages.” He added dryly, “It says a lot about the adventurous spirit of our galactic travelers that we have a full passenger roster for this voyage.”
“Or perhaps the positive spin the LodeStar publicists were able to put on the last voyage,” smirked Sirena. “After all, the Orion is ‘captained by the hero of the Solar Wars’.”
“I preferred the glowing reports about our ‘elite Serpentian guard’,” Craig shot back.
“Touché,” she murmured, although she felt none of the chagrin Craig displayed at having been in the public eye. The elite of all ship guards, her Serpentians deserved every kudos they received. LodeStar paid handsomely to keep them.
Panthar’s eyes gleamed.
“You’re both forgetting the heroics of Commander Jag, on the Orion’s first voyage,” he put in smoothly. “Doesn’t hurt to have a Tyger on board.”
“Easy, big guy,” Ogg quipped. “No bloodletting on this voyage. Nice and peaceful.”
Panthar shrugged.
“Maybe—maybe not. We still don’t know who hired the slime-worm with the bio-bomb on our first voyage, or who paid off two of our own to sabotage us on the second voyage.”
At this reminder, the levity around the command console faded. They looked to Captain Craig, faces grave, waiting to hear if there was a name, a face, an organization on which to focus.