by Mina Carter
“Then who were you speaking about?”
“The females. It seems humans don’t have the same issues we do with numbers. Their gender numbers are equal. So much so, the base we attacked had female military personnel.”
Daaynal stilled, his focus solely on Tarrick. “They don’t protect their women? What kind of species are they? Like the Oonat?”
Tarrick laughed. “Draanth, no. They mounted a robust defense to our attack on their base but eventually lost to superior technology. Not for want of trying though. We secured their base and separated the males from the females as usual. That’s when we ran into problems. These females are not civilians. They’re as highly trained in weapons and tactics as the men. We couldn’t get any information out of them on questioning, and they were offering passive resistance until the T’Laat arrived.”
The Emperor’s expression tightened for a second before his face cleared. It didn’t last more than a blink of the eye, but Tarrick spotted the brief flare of dislike and anger. Daaynal didn’t like the T’Laat, everyone knew that, but as emperor, he couldn’t play favorites.
“And then?” he asked.
“The T’Laat made the mistake of kidnapping the women.”
“I’m assuming since you’re talking to me now and you’re only just mentioning it, that you have the situation sorted? How many women did you lose?” Daaynal grimaced and reached a hand up to run through his long hair. “Fuck, I didn’t want the T’Laat in that sector. Now they know there are women there. They’ll be impossible to get rid—”
“None,” Tarrick interrupted, “We didn’t lose any women. They’d already figured out our ident tags were the key to accessing ship systems. They stole one from Varish, used it to open a weapons cache. By the time we boarded the ship with combat teams, they’d freed themselves, bottlenecked the T’Laat forces and were blowing the draanth out of them.”
This time Daaynal’s eyes did widen in surprise. Then he laughed. “By the ancestors, they sound perfect. Almost as bad as we are.”
“Yeah, that. You might want to take a look at this.” Using the same subspace link he used to control the bot, Tarrick quickly sent the images of his wrist and medical data Laarn supplied, showing them on the chest-mounted screen on the bot.
“Fuck me…” If he’d ever wanted to see Daaynal surprised, he was seeing it now. The bigger man’s expression was one of utter shock. “If there is even the chance they are what Laarn thinks, I want to see. I want to meet some. Bring them here.”
Chapter Two
"The Emperor wants to see us? Really?"
Cat followed in Tarrick's wake like a little lost puppy following its master. The impression wasn't helped by the fact she had to trot to keep up. Every long stride of his needed at least two of hers, maybe even three. It was demeaning, but at the moment she didn't care. She was more interested in what he had to say than any blow to her pride.
"He does. He was most interested when I told him about your species and in particular this." He twisted his wrist in a telling gesture. The marks were covered by the long sleeves of his jacket, and a wrist bracer for good measure.
She appreciated the foresight. If every Latharian warrior realized that, unlike the oonat, humans could trigger their long-dormant mating marks, it would be open season. Competition for a human woman, any human woman, could cause chaos and dissent in the ranks, potentially shattering war clans.
The soldier in her wanted to insist that wouldn't be a bad thing. A fractured enemy was easier to combat, but she had to be sensible about this. Under the control of a sympathetic war commander, the Lathar could negotiate with humanity, sign treaties, and build alliances. But scattered lone-wolf groups of warriors would just invade and take what they wanted when they wanted, and humanity could do little about it. And not all Lathar were as honorable as the K'Vass.
Cat shuddered, remembering Varish T'Laat. The last thing any human woman needed was to be at the mercy of such a monster. No, the best way forward was to put their lot in with the K'Vass and hope the Latharian emperor was as “easy” to deal with.
Besides, she'd always wanted to see new planets and civilizations. It had been the main reason she'd signed up for the Sentinel program; to explore, to be out there on the frontier in a way humanity never had been before. So the chance to see the Lathar homeworld was an opportunity the explorer in her couldn't pass up.
"What’s he like?" she asked as they entered the flight bay. She'd gotten used to the fact everything to do with the Lathar was just, well, bigger. Their ship, their furniture, their clothing...their men. Hell, were their men build bigger. All over. She dragged her mind away from the gutter quickly and looked around. After a while, she'd gotten used to the larger proportions. It took something like the flight deck—easily big enough to fit a couple of terran destroyers in—to make her appreciate the size difference.
They strode past row on row of fighters. Like the combat avatars present as guards throughout the ship and the main force which attacked her base, they were remote controlled. The pilots’ lounge was one place Tarrick refused to allow her. Said something about human women were dangerous enough with the knowledge they'd gathered already; he wasn't handing over any more of the Lathar's secrets on a plate. She'd smirked at that. From assuming humans were simple and easily cowed, the Lathar learnt they might be smaller, but a force to be reckoned with. Especially when they got hold of energy weapons.
"Daaynal? He's a K'Saan. Think Laarn but bigger, same eyes."
She hurried to pull even with him, reaching out a hand to his arm as they turned a corner. A quick glance took in the small group waiting at the end of the row, but she ignored them in favor of curiosity, looking at Tarrick.
"Same eyes? Why would he have the same eyes as your brother?"
Tarrick gave her a sexy little side-glance through the corner of his eye. "Because Laarn has our mother's eyes, and Daaynal was our mother's Litaan."
She paused, her steps faltering as the words sunk in. Holy crap...
"You mean you're a prince? You're a freaking alien prince and you never told me?" She ran to catch up, swinging around to stand in front of him, her tone accusing. "Why didn't you say you were royalty?"
He stopped finally and looked down at her, his golden eyes narrowed. "Would it have made any difference to how you viewed me? That some accident of my birth was more important than the skills and status I have gained on my own?"
Shit. Put like that it sounded bad. "No, of course not. But your culture fascinates me... probably fascinates all of us. Like your clans, your names...the relationships between you."
She'd quickly come to realize the Lathar in a war clan were usually related in some way. Cousins at least. None seemed to be as closely related as Tarrick and Laarn though.
He sighed, but she caught the softer expression in his eyes before it disappeared. It pleased him, her interest in his family. "Yes, I'm technically what your people would call a prince, as is Laarn. And although Karryl shares our father's blood, he is a J'Vass. The clan only gained the right to use the K' signifier when my mother took my father as bond-mate. The K' indicates a line descended from Imperial blood."
She nodded, soaking up as much information as she could while they walked. She'd thought the different names were, while pretty, just that. She hadn't realized they meant something. "Karryl is related to you as well?"
He nodded. "The son of my father's younger brother."
They'd almost reached the small group waiting for them near a docked ship larger than most of the flyers on the deck. If Cat had to guess, she'd put it about the same size as the Captain's Yacht on the base. A fast, luxury transporter for a few VIP passengers. Only this wasn't built like any luxury carrier she'd ever seen. It had far too much armor and weaponry. But then again, that was in line with everything about the Lathar. Their whole culture was based on warfare.
The group contained tall, leather-clad warriors and a small group of women dressed much like she was, in long robes a
nd warm capes. Oddly, for an advanced culture, Latharian fashion tended toward the medieval. Along with the clothing change from their dirty uniforms, she’d noticed a distinct thawing in the attitude of the women to their Latharian “captors.”
Her gaze flicked over the women, then shot back to one familiar figure.
“Jess!” she squealed, launching herself across the space between them to hug her friend.
Okay, so it was a bear hug around the neck and caused the taller woman to stagger back a bit but Cat didn’t care. She just hugged her friend harder.
“Might want to let her breathe a little?” Laarn, behind them, pointed out.
“Yeah…breathing would be good,” Jess gasped, although her hold on Cat was just as tight.
Reluctantly, she eased her grip and studied her friend. Apart from the tiredness around her eyes, Jess appeared in good health.
“I’m so glad you’re here. Things have been…” She paused, words drying up as she tried to verbalize the events of the last few days. Jess smiled and grabbed her hands to squeeze them. “I know, don’t worry, I know. Just…I’m here, you’re here. Let’s work from that, eh?”
“Yeah…” Cat’s breath shuddered from her lungs and she looked up to find Laarn watching them. His gaze was locked onto Jess, his expression possessive until he noticed her watching him. Instantly his face blanked and he gave her a smooth smile. So, the aloof healer did have a weakness after all. She smiled at him, mouthing “thank you,” sure Laarn was the reason Jess had been included on this trip.
He didn’t reply, looking away without acknowledging her thanks. She didn’t argue because a commotion behind them caught their attention. The group turned to find Jane Allen stalking toward them with Karryl dogging her steps.
“You were injured, female. You should be resting, not running around the ship risking further injury.” Frustration obvious in his voice, the big warrior danced around Jane, trying to get her to stop so he could lift her in his arms. His strange half-scuttle and scoop with his arms spread wide made Cat chuckle, a sound she quickly smothered as the soap opera in front of them unfolded.
“I'm all right,” Jane hissed, her gaze focused on the group by the transport as though Karryl were nothing to do with her. “How am I going to come to harm on a ship this well armed?”
Somehow, she’d managed to avoid the robes and cape combo the rest of them had and wore leather pants a la Latharian warrior and a singlet vest. Her dog tags bounced against her chest as she walked. She’d even managed to keep her boots, which somehow fit with her mishmash ensemble. All in all, the Marine looked badass. A fact that didn’t escape the attention of the two other warriors with the group, who sucked quick breaths in at the sight of the human woman.
She, however, wasn’t paying any attention to their little group, mainly because at that moment Karryl had decided enough was enough and tried to scoop her up over his shoulder. The women, knowing what was coming, winced.
He’d no sooner got his hands around Jane’s trim waist when she turned the tables on him. Grabbing his arm, she twisted and turned in a quick movement that dumped the big warrior on the floor. To add insult to injury, she dropped and pinned one arm with a knee, jamming her other booted foot right in his throat.
“Don’t you ever try that again, sunshine,” she warned, her voice cold and level. “You lot might have all these young women atwitter with the muscles and the charm… But I’m older, wiser and with a shitload more experience under my belt of dealing with pretty boy soldiers like you.”
Cat leaned in to whisper in Tarrick’s ear. “She likes him.”
His eyes widened. “She does? How can you tell?”
She hid her smile. “She hasn’t killed him yet.”
Jane rolled away, and Karryl scrambled to his feet. Glaring around, he spotted Laarn. “Healer, do something about this defective female! Make her understand what an honor it is to be chosen by a warrior of my standing.”
Jane snorted, boot stomping on the deck she joined them. “Stow it, big boy. Humans don’t consider it an ‘honor’ when a guy wants to stick his dick in her. You’ve got a hand, I suggest you put it to use if that’s all you’re interested in.”
The women dissolved into giggles quickly smothered when Karryl glared at them.
Tarrick sighed. “Children! If you’re finished, the Emperor awaits.”
***
As Cat expected, the yacht was utilitarian, set up more for combat than luxury. The metal of the bulkheads in the corridors they passed was unadorned, and at no point on their journey through the ship did she see carpeting covering the deck plates. The design was simple, with barracks and other rooms off the central corridor. At one end was the “bridge,” little more than a fancy cockpit, and at the other was a large common room.
All the rooms had their own facilities, though, for which she was thankful. She didn’t fancy wandering the central corridor at night trying to find a toilet. Not that she thought any of the warriors aboard would even look at her sideways, but a girl liked her privacy, especially when bed head was an option.
Voices rose in the corridor behind them as Laarn assigned rooms. None of the warriors were bunked with a human woman, a fact Karryl argued intensely about. From what Cat could gather, Karryl thought his claim over Jane was a done deal, and her consent a mere formality. Meanwhile, Jane was simply ignoring the big warrior. Tarrick led Cat up a flight of stairs tucked in a corner. Cat hid her smirk and followed Tarrick.
The flight of stairs led to a secondary deck. Smaller than the main one, it was one room, with a large bed set in the middle of the wall under a sloping picture window. Clearly designed so the occupant could gaze at the stars. There were two doors in the wall opposite. She raised her eyebrow at Tarrick in question.
“Washroom and storage,” he replied quickly. Absently.
His attention was all on her, steady gold gaze unwavering. It was impossible to look away, and her heart rate increased as the gold became darker, more heated.
She knew that expression. Her body knew it well.
“Tarrick, we don’t have time.”
“Nonsense. There’s plenty of time... Or did you forget, I give the orders around here.”
She backed as he stalked her, somehow managing to get himself between the door to the stairs and her. Not that it mattered, if she ran it wouldn’t be very far. He’d catch her in the corridor below, where she knew he’d take her anyway, regardless of whom watched.
“Around here… Yes. But have you forgotten about the Emperor?”
He shrugged and continued to stalk her. “Laarn will get us underway.”
There was no arguing with that, so she didn’t bother, her lips curving into a smile as he reached her. Snagging a hand around her waist, he pulled her against his hard, muscled body and claimed her lips.
She melted, her knees weak as he swept his tongue past her lips to plunder her mouth. His tongue found hers, sliding against it in sensual strokes that took her breath away. The small whimper in the back of her throat was purely instinctive and she drove her hands into his short hair to hold him to her.
His kiss turned hard, frenzied, and she broke away to gasp. That didn’t stop him, his lips blazing a trail down the length of her throat. Held in his iron embrace, she couldn’t escape. Didn’t want to escape. Ever.
Strong fingers shoved the cape from her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet. She shivered as the cooler air of the room hit her bare shoulders. The dichotomy of the chill and the heat from his body drove her crazy. She moved closer, her hips urgent against his as the fever in her blood grew. Need became all encompassing and she tore at the zipper at the front of his uniform. Anything to get to the smooth, silken skin over his hard, muscled chest. A chest and a body she would never tire of exploring.
“Fuck…you’re hot. So sexy,” he muttered and claimed her lips with open-mouthed, hard kisses. His hands tangled in the straps of her dress, yanking them down with a twist that unraveled the alien design
of the garment. It slithered down her body, leaving her naked apart from the heeled sandals he’d had her wear this morning.
He gripped her shoulders, putting some space between them. His eyes burned with passion. He didn’t speak. Instead, his face tightened, hardened until his features became almost cruel.
She squeaked as he spun her around with a quick movement and pushed her toward the bed. The push and the unaccustomed heels made her stumble, and she half fell across the soft surface. As she got to her knees, he wrapped his sash around her wrists with a lightning fast movement. Securing them to the bedpost at the foot of the bed, he pulled the fabric tight until she bent at the waist. Hard fingers dug into the sides of her hips, pulling her ass up even as a large, booted foot kicked her feet apart.
“Tarrick! Slow down!” Her exclamation devolved into a small moan when he swept a finger through her already wet folds. Shit, that felt too good.
“As you pointed out, the Emperor is waiting,” he rumbled, rough voice carrying a trace of amusement as she lifted her ass for more of his attentions. Bastard. He knew he only had to touch her for her to go up in flames. “So, this’ll have to be quick.”
The broad tip of his finger collected the slick juice of her arousal and rubbed it over her clit. She whimpered, biting her lower lip to stop from crying out as he worked her body. Rubbed over and around the little nubbin of flesh, then, when she was least expecting it, gave her a little spank. There. Right there. On her clit.
“Yeoooohhh!” she moaned, the soft tap intensifying her pleasure in a way she hadn’t expected. No time to reflect though, because he started to rub again. Teasing and caressing her clit, adding the short little taps that didn’t hurt, exactly, but soon had her arching back against him. She needed him to fill her… cock, fingers, anything. Just now. Sooner.