by Ruby Dixon
“Who?” She just needs to say his name and I'll keffing kill him, whoever it is. Anyone that inspires this much terror in my female is not going to draw breath much longer.
“Lord Unto.” The name means nothing to me until she shudders and continues. “He's the one that was going to buy me. The one that had me blinded.”
Then I know, and my heart fills with rage.
20
IRIS
After I confess everything to Alvos, I still don't feel better.
He holds me close, but I can feel that he's not at ease and neither am I. I can't open my eyes and let the reality of where I am reassure me. I'm in the darkness, and no matter how tightly he holds me against his chest, I still think about Lord Unto every time I go to sleep. His long, horrible name and his cruel, cruel heart. I've never met the man and I know he's pure evil. I don't need to meet him to know. I can't imagine a person that would blind a horse or a dog that wasn't behaving. I know that a lot of these aliens view humans as little more than animals or pets, but who would do that to a pet? Only the worst kind of person.
The fact that he's out there haunts me. For a few weeks, I've been able to pretend like I'm safe, that everything is all right. But this Lord Unto could claim his property at any time. What do I do then?
I made Alvos promise that he wouldn't tell the others that I'd heard Lord Unto's name. That it'd be a secret just between us, because I want to avoid him and any sort of confrontation possible. I just want to hide away from Unto's corner of the universe and pray that he never finds me.
After all, I'm sure escaping is considered very, very bad behavior, and I can only imagine what body parts he'll remove if he has me in his possession again. The thought haunts me and I huddle against Alvos's chest all night. I sleep very little and when I do, my dreams are of captivity.
I wake up the next morning feeling less rested than ever, and it's hard to leave my room. Part of me wants to hide away forever, but I know that'll just make the others wonder what's going on, and so it's easier to pretend that everything's normal. I force myself out of bed, dress, and then head for the mess hall. I can hear people moving around in the room, though it's quiet when I enter. There's a lightly rolling hum under my feet that tells me that the ship's moving. We've left the station, and I can't say I'm sorry to realize that. The farther away we are from this place, the better.
“Morning,” I call out in a greeting to the others, forcing a smile to my face. I put a hand out, touching the edge of one of the tables to guide me. “Is there any tea on?”
“Iris. Good. You're here.” Kivian's voice is crisp and business-like without any of its usual good humor, and I feel a prickle of alarm.
“I am,” I answer calmly. “Who all is in here with us?”
“Everyone,” Alvos says, speaking up, and I'm torn between a ripple of pleasure at the sound of his buttery, rich voice, and fear, because everyone in here at the same time never happens. Something is up.
I force myself to remain calm. “Oh?” I turn toward his voice—he's seated at the table I'm standing next to. The air feels still near me, and I reach out to see if the seat is empty. It is, so I slide into it. “What's going on?”
“We're just discussing our next job.” Fran sounds quiet, subdued.
“Oh?” A hand brushes mine. I recognize the callused fingers and the fuzzy-soft skin—Alvos. He wants to hold my hand. I don't know if I'm pleased or worried. It feels like something is wrong. I twine my fingers through his and force my voice to be placid and even. “What's the next job? I thought we were hooking someone at the station with gambling.”
“That can happen anytime,” Kivian says. “This particular job is more time sensitive. We're intercepting a shipment.”
“What kind of shipment?” I ask idly, since it's awfully quiet in the room. If everyone's in here, they're not talking.
Someone clears a throat. Male. I don't know who.
Then, Alvos squeezes my hand. “You know who we're going after.”
Cold washes over me. This is why everyone is here, then. This is why it's quiet and feels fraught with tension in the room. “You're going after Lord Unto,” I comment, my voice mild and bland as could be. Inside, I'm screaming. Outwardly, though, I'm so very calm.
“Full name is Lord Unto'Abarri'Nil Vohs Bekhinto, Lord of Nine Sunrises and Ruler of the Thirteenth Moon,” says Kivian, and then he snorts. “Pompous ass.” No one laughs despite his pause, so he continues. “He's getting a shipment of illegal goods. Likely some human slaves, possibly other forbidden species. We don't think it's darkmatter or weaponry shipments because he's got a very small crew with him. We've touched base with a few contacts and found out that he's currently vacationing on his barge near Ekhos II's water moon. It's a good time to slide over, hijack his vessel, lift his newly bought friends, and send his ship into the sun. It's going to be quite the unfortunate accident.”
“I can't keffing wait,” Alvos growls.
“It’ll be dangerous,” Fran warns. “He’s likely got a complete crew with him. That means guards and security out the wazoo.”
“I like dangerous,” my Alvos says, and cracks his knuckles. “Just let me have a chance.”
“There’s no denying this lord needs to be taken down a notch,” Kivian says. “I’m just not sure we’ve got the manpower to be the ones to do it.”
I desperately hope someone will speak up. Someone will be reasonable and say no, it’s too much to handle. That there will be other jobs.
“Of course we do,” Alvos says, and he sounds eager for a fight. My broken, bloodthirsty Alvos. “This guy’s not touching my Iris ever again. We take him down.”
“If everyone’s in agreement,” Kivian says. “Iris?”
“I’m not crew. Not really. I can’t decide for you,” I say, and I'm so very calm. Alvos squeezes my hand, but I don't squeeze back. It doesn't matter that I asked him not to say anything. He told the others and now we're going after Lord Unto. It's my worst nightmare come to life. They know it’s dangerous. They just don’t care enough.
“What about The Obsidian Blade?” Cat asks. “Tarekh says he heard a rumor that they tried to board him a few months back and got creamed. Space particles everywhere.”
I go cold.
Alvos only laughs and squeezes my hand. “Their crew was useless. The Blade couldn’t board a ship piloted by kits. I don’t know how they thought they could take on a fully manned barge. We’re smarter than that.”
The others murmur agreement, but I don’t listen. All I can think about is Lord Unto. Someone that brutal is sure to be surrounded by guards. I've been told Alvos and the others are good fighters, but I don't know them well enough to be reassured that all will be fine. Instead, I try to imagine what will happen if they try to board the ship and fail. I'll be enslaved again. Fran and Cat, too. The others will be killed.
Alvos will be killed.
A hard lump forms in my throat and I think of the man at my side. Of touching his face late at night and feeling his smile. His fuzzy skin taut over hard muscles, and the way his chest feels when a laugh rumbles out of him.
How gentle and caring he is with me.
If I lose him, I'm going to be broken beyond repair. I know I'm already damaged and struggling, but he's the one thing that's keeping me together. I can't lose him.
I remain silent while the others discuss plans and strategy. There's a way to disable the barge without getting on their radar, it seems. One person can take an escape pod toward the other ship, which won't pull up on their scanners. Once the pod gets close enough, the pilot can suit up and drift out to the other ship in space. He'll attach a sensor that will make the ship think that there's a problem with the engine, and while it sends out false signals, the Fool will swoop in and attach. Alvos and Tarekh and Kivian are going to board immediately with Cat and Fran providing backup. They've done it all a dozen times before, apparently, and from the sounds of their voices, it's a routine job for them.
Alvos is going to be o
n the escape pod. He's going to be the one drifting in space in nothing but a suit, attaching the sensor to the underside of the barge. If they find him, they'll kill him immediately. Just the thought makes my entire body clench up with worry, though Alvos's hand is loose in mine as if it's no problem. No big deal.
It's a big deal to me, though.
I don't say anything aloud, of course. I just listen. I'll remain on the bridge with Sentorr and listen to comms to make sure no one's coming in with the authorities or bringing reinforcements. It's all figured out.
I hear chairs scrape back and the sound of people getting to their feet. “If no one has anything else to bring up, I'll set the ship to surging,” Sentorr says. When no one speaks up, he continues. “Very well, then. Surging in five minutes. Remember to strap yourselves in.”
There's a low murmur of chatter as people leave the room. I remain seated, and Alvos squeezes my hand. When it calms and feels like we're alone, he speaks. “You're quiet.”
I pull my hand from his. “I'm fine.”
I'm not fine. I'm terrified and angry both. He told them about Lord Unto even after I begged him not to, and now they're all going to risk their lives to rob him. They can say it's because of money or slaves or whatever, but it's because I spoke up. I know it is. And Alvos is taking on the most dangerous role of them all. I try to picture him drifting silently out in space to sneak up on the barge, and I'm terrified.
What if I lose him? I've worked so hard over the last few weeks to become more independent, and yet the thought of losing Alvos steals the breath from my lungs. It's not that I need him to guide me through the ship or be my friend.
It's that I need him. I need his presence. I need his affection and support. I need more than just that brief kiss from last night.
Have I fallen in love without even realizing it? Because being in his arms feels like the most natural thing in the world suddenly, and now I'm wondering if I'm going to lose that. I feel like I'm dying inside. The despair shooting through me feels like I'm losing my sight all over again, except this time I'm going to lose my heart.
I can't handle this. I get to my feet and head out of the room.
I hear Alvos, just a few steps behind me. He doesn't speak until I turn towards the bedroom. “You should go to the bridge,” he says. “Belt in. We're going to lose gravity when we surge, and I don't want you getting hurt.”
HE doesn't want ME getting hurt. I want to laugh (or scream), but all I do is continue forward, keeping my expression safely pleasant. “I'll be careful.”
Alvos makes a frustrated sound and I wait to hear his boots heading away, but he follows me back to our quarters. Of course he does. He's protective and sweet and if he thinks there's even a whiff of danger when it comes to me, he's going to do his best to make sure I'm all right. Just like with this stupid barge attack.
It won't matter to him if it costs him his life. And that's the part that makes me angriest. The bitter frustration and helplessness seethe through me with every step. By the time I touch the door and then run my hand over the sensor panel to let myself in, I'm fuming with pent-up rage.
He follows right behind me. Of course he does. Once the door slides shut with its little whirr that tells me we're alone, Alvos grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. “Why won't you talk to me?” His voice is blunt with irritation.
“There's nothing to say.” I keep my voice mild and sweet. “Nothing's wrong.”
Alvos makes another frustrated sound in his throat. “Then why are you coming back here to hide in our quarters instead of going on the bridge?”
Because I don't want to, I'm tempted to bite out. My expression is calm. So, so calm. “What makes you think that there's a problem?”
He growls low in his throat. “Because I know you, Iris. I know how your mind works and you retreat behind this nicey-nice shit whenever you're scared. You don't show me what you're feeling because you're afraid to for some reason, and that makes me crazy. Is this how it's going to be between us?”
“Is what how it's going to be between us?” I ask mildly. He's not wrong about any of that, and I can't decide if it makes me upset or scares me.
“Don't do this,” he snarls, and I feel his hands on my shoulders. “Don't you hide what you're thinking from me. Show me something, damn it! Anything! You're not a keffing automaton. I know you've got emotion under there! Quit hiding it from me!”
My anger and fear for him bubbles over. I reach out and punch him.
Or at least, I try to. I always forget how tall he is, and my hand ends up skimming along his jaw, but the meaning is there.
It’s utterly silent in the room.
A wave of fear washes over me and I sag, my knees giving out. No, no, no, my brain is screaming. Now you're not safe. I want to collapse on the ground in a heap of apologies and obedience.
But Alvos won't let me. He laughs, and the sound is delighted even as he sweeps me into his arms and off of my feet. “Oh no you don't,” he murmurs. “That's the first real emotion you've shown me other than last night. Don't be scared. Tell me what you're thinking, because I keffing love it. Slap me again if you want to.” There's a timbre in his voice I've never heard before, as if he's aroused.
I suck in a breath, because I can't decide if I'm aroused at his response or just really, really mad. I slap at his chest even as he cradles me against him. “Does it matter what I'm thinking?” Slap. Slap. “It's all been decided already.”
“It has,” he agrees.
Now he's the calm one, and it infuriates me. I slap his chest again. “I told you about my fears in private. In private. And you went and told the others right away. You promised you wouldn't!”
“I'm not going to let him get away with this,” Alvos says, as if it's all a done deal. So I smack him again with my open palm, because the bastard's not sorry in the least. “I'm sorry, Iris, but your safety comes first to me. He's going to pay for hurting you, and then I'm going to make sure he never hurts anyone else again.”
“I. Don't. Care. About. That!” With each word, I smack his shoulder again. It feels good, and I can't stop myself. I close my hand into a fist and lightly punch him. My blows are ineffectual against his armored skin, but it's not about the pain, it's about getting this all out of my system. “You're going to get killed!”
“I won't.”
His smug, confident answer just infuriates me more. “I'm so…mad at you right now. Put me down!”
“I like you mad.” He's utterly unruffled. “And it doesn't matter how angry you get—I'm not changing my mind.”
“Then let someone else go in the pod! Let someone else risk their necks. Stay here on the ship with me!” I clench my hands in his tunic because I want to throttle the man. I don't know how to get rid of all of this frustrated energy, so I just hold fistfuls of his shirt and shake angrily. “Don't do this to prove a point!”
“It's not to prove a point,” Alvos says. “It's because I love you and you're mine.”
I suck in a breath. For a moment I want to punch him in the face and kiss him both. The urge to kiss wins, though, and I unclench one handful of tunic and find his jaw, and then lean in, hoping he'll meet me halfway.
He gives a little groan and then his lips brush over mine in a light caress. I want more than a gentle kiss, though. I'm too fired up, and everything's exploding out of me. I tighten my hand on his tunic and push my mouth against his harder, practically savage in my movements. I'm hungry with need as I move my tongue against the seam of his lips, insisting on entry. I want to give him a kiss that will show him just how frustrated and full of emotion I am. He wants me to show him something? I'll show him everything. So I kiss him hard, bruising my lips as our teeth come together. It's not polite or sweet, but fierce and angry and vicious.
And good. So, so good.
21
IRIS
His tongue rubs against mine as the kiss deepens, and I remember the strangely arousing ridges he has on it and how they feel wh
en they drag against my tongue. I moan against his lips as he sweeps into my mouth, and then I fight with him for control of the kiss, and it turns into a battle of its own, both of us vying for dominance. Faster and harder we kiss until I'm breathless with lust and my mouth is throbbing and our teeth clash as we kiss and still it's not enough.
Somewhere outside the room, there's a low whine and then the entire ship surges forward. Our bodies rock and Alvos staggers backward a step, and then I begin to lift out of his arms.
There's no more gravity. We're surging.
I gasp and hold on to him, locking my hand tight in the soft fabric of his tunic. He's floating, I think, and my hair streams around my face. Something flutters against my cheek—the end of my ribbon, I think—and then it's a bit like swimming without the weight of water around us. There's no anchor as I drift upward.
His hand touches my cheek, rough and reassuring. “I've got you, love. I won't let go.” Something hitches onto the belt of my jumper—his other hand—and then I'm anchored against him. “Don't be scared.”
“I'm not scared,” I whisper, shoving my streaming, wild hair away from my face. It's dangerously close to getting into my mouth. “You've got me, right?” And for some reason, that sounds incredibly sexy. I'm getting aroused. Maybe it's the situation or the hint of danger or the kiss we just shared, but I can feel the heat throbbing between my legs and I like it. I want more kisses. I want to run my hands all over him. I want more of everything—and not just because I don't want to be a virgin anymore.
It's because I truly want Alvos. No, his name is Alyvos, I tell myself. I have to stop hiding, to stop pushing to see if he'll respond negatively. I know in my heart he won't. I know he's mine and I'm safe with him. “Alyvos,” I say softly, letting it roll off my tongue. “I love you.”
The big alien groans again, and I feel him drift closer to me as he tugs on my belt, hauling our bodies together. “My sweet Iris. Will you trust me? Don't be scared of this Lord whoever. I won't let him harm another hair on your head. You're my female. No one's going to touch you ever again.”