A Menage Made On Madison [The Federation 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Serena Akeroyd

  “I don’t know, Monseign. I don’t even know if we went underground to travel to another dome. They covered my head….” She made a choked sound. “I’m…I’m in some dark room. They tied my wrists together then hooked the tie through a heating duct. I only managed to contact you because they don’t know I have a personal comm unit.” She gulped. “If you weren’t so generous, Monseign, I wouldn’t have been able to contact you.”

  When she started to cry, Parker spoke, “Tisiya, I’m so sorry this is happening. But please, have faith, we’ll do whatever it takes to get you back home, okay?”

  “Oh, Maseign, thank you.”

  “No, Tisiya, you don’t have to thank me. It’s my fault you’re in this mess. Can you remember anything about the kidnappers? Anything at all, like how they looked or how they spoke?”

  “I didn’t see them, Maseign. The cab had moved down the line, away from reception, and I went to the trunk first. I was going to pay once I’d taken the luggage out, because you know what some of the drivers are like. They’ll drive off with your bags still inside the car for a bit of extra profit.” Tisiya babbled out the words, her fear spilling over her voice, and freezing Parker’s heart with guilt. “As I was leaning into the trunk, someone grabbed me around the waist. Before I could scream, they’d clapped a hand over my mouth, and they shocked me with some kind of, I don’t even know what it was. It didn’t hurt, just made me feel faint, like my legs wouldn’t work. They stashed me in the cab, then, when I did have a chance to see them, they were all covered up in black.”

  “Was there anything unusual about their clothes?”

  “Well….” She hesitated, then mumbled, “I know black is black, but this was the darkest black I’ve ever seen. It’s strange, but it was so dense, it almost glowed.”

  “You didn’t see any of their faces or the shape of their heads?”

  “No, their masks were baggy.”

  “Right, Tisiya, I think you’ve given us more information than you realize. Cut the line now, we don’t want the kidnappers to know you have a comm unit. Keep it hidden, and if you learn anymore, anything that might help the Garda help us find you, then send it over.”

  “Yes, Monseign, Maseign, I will. T–Thank you again.”

  Before Parker could tell her she didn’t have to thank her, that it was because of her the poor woman was imprisoned somewhere in the city, and not at her desk, Tisiya did as Knox had told her— and cut the line.

  “That was supposed to be me. They wanted me, Knox. And poor Tisiya, she was in the wrong goddamn place at the wrong time.” She stood, sat, stood once more, and then finally took a seat at the edge of the desk. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t like to call the Garda in—you know how corrupt they are on Madison. But in this case, I don’t think we have any choice.”

  Parker shook her head. “Maybe it shouldn’t be the Garda, but the Fleet.”

  Knox frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I asked her to go out and pay Rafer’s tab, and collect his luggage. Maybe this has something to do with him and his position in the Fleet. They must have known who he was and who I am to him when they targeted that cab, and used it as part of their plan.”

  Knox grimaced. “There’s no maybe about it, Parker. Coincidences don’t exist. My major concern is how they knew who Rafer actually is. His existence is classified, for lukcin’s sake.”

  “Do you think he’s in danger?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know Tisiya is.” He switched on his main comm port and said, “And at the moment, there are more than just my twinling’s and Tisiya’s lives at stake.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “For any information on his whereabouts to be known, it can only mean Rafer’s unit has a mole.”

  Chapter Five

  The steady rise and fall of Rafer’s chest lulled Parker into a semblance of calm. She just sat there, in the peace of the bedroom, watching him sleep. It could probably be considered creepy, but with the shit going down in the hotel at the moment, she needed all the serenity she could get.

  Within mins of Tisiya calling, Knox had looked through his personal commqués in search of a message he’d received annals ago from the Fleet regarding a mission Rafer had been in, and one where he’d been injured enough for them to send for Knox. Because you couldn’t exactly call the Fleet up like you could the Garda, he’d used the contact details on the personal communiqué to get in touch with someone who actually knew Rafer.

  They’d contacted the wrong folk in the end, but they’d been patched through to a different office when Knox had answered some personal questions that only a Shuzon twinling would know about their brother. When speaking to the relevant office, they’d explained the situation and within thirty mins of Tisiya’s call, the Fleet were now in the hotel and speaking to Knox.

  Talk about fast service. That response was faster than the Garda’s. And they were planet-side!

  Parker had left the minute she’d known the Fleet were on their way up to the private tower. Accepting Rafer and his job was one thing, actively welcoming a unit into her domain was another. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice either way. Rafer was who he was, and she couldn’t change that. Nor could she alter the fact they needed the Fleet to intercede here, because the Garda would be useless.

  Madison’s Garda was, like every Garda in the Federation, a hodgepodge of different species assigned to certain planets for a set length of deployment. Each officer spent around ten annals on the planet, but Madison’s was more corrupt than most.

  As a pleasure planet, one used mostly by tourists, there was little Federation interference. As long as peace reigned, and tourists kept on visiting and adding to the Federation’s tax coffers, then that was fine. As Madison was on the outer rim of Federation territory, that was another reason why things tended to slip under the net.

  There were some decent agents, most of which the hotel had on speed line. But for a situation like this, they needed a higher-ranking officer, and most of those couldn’t be trusted.

  “How long have you been sitting there?”

  Rafer’s sleepy voice jolted Parker from her thoughts. She sank back into the chair she’d quietly pulled up an heura ago, and lied. “Not long.”

  “I thought you’d left a while ago.”

  “I did, but I came back.”

  He grunted as he flicked his fingers over the hover chair’s controls and it started to move him into more of a sitting position. When a cry of pain escaped him, Parker flinched, but she didn’t get up to flutter around him. He was too self-sufficient to appreciate being mollycoddled, even though it was in her nature to do just that.

  His chair settled at what she considered a half-supine position. Just enough to raise his head and shoulders off the bed while keeping his legs flat on the mattress.

  “Can I get you anything?” She restricted herself to that query, even though she wanted so badly to tuck a pillow behind his shoulders and try to get him comfortable.

  He shook his head but bit out a laugh. “At the moment, I could do with some Hadean Lixir. Not sure my meds would agree with it, though.”

  “Would some kaffa help?” The caffeine-based drink was the worst stuff Parker had ever tasted, but most of the Federation appreciated it. It was like tea and coffee mixed together—not a good combination in her opinion.

  “That would be great.”

  She nodded, and got to her feet, aware that at all times, he was watching her as she left the room. Heading over to what was called a “kitchen” but wasn’t actually used to prepare food, she used the KitchQizard to prepare a cup of kaffa. When Parker had first seen the KitchQizard, she’d immediately thought of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Whatever you wanted to eat or drink, it could replicate it. The flavors weren’t as intense as when real food was used, and most of the time, Knox and she ordered from one of the restaurants. But as she wasn’t the best chef in the world, the KitchQizard came in handy for moments l
ike this when she didn’t want Room Service intruding.

  In five seconds, the machine had created the cup and the drink, as well as a pot of Bayernai cream.

  She picked out a tray from a cupboard, set the dishes on it, then had the KitchQizard make some sandwiches.

  The food “sandwich” had had to be especially programed into the device. Federation nations had never heard of slapping some meat or cheese between two slices of bread before. They’d never lived in Parker’s opinion.

  She had the KitchQizard make a cream cheese and smoked salmon sub. Salmon was hard to reproduce and came out tasting more like tuna for some reason, but with the weird Bayernai version of cream cheese, it tasted quite nice actually. Nice enough to serve to her mate, at least.

  It seemed selfish to be thinking about food and making Rafer comfortable when Tisiya was locked up in a part of the city, unable to care for her own family…but Parker had experienced enough in her ninety-four annals to know that there was no point in worrying over something that she herself couldn’t change.

  As it was, the Fleet were handling this situation. By the end of the notte, Parker had a feeling Tisiya would be out of captivity and back home. The Fleet, for all their ills, did not hang about. It wasn’t much consolation, even to Parker, but she had to focus on that.

  While Rafer’s presence here in the hotel made something in her body settle down, relax for the first time in a long while, she was still tired. In fact, she was weary to her bones.

  She yawned when the KitchQizard beeped, and, putting the plate on the tray, she carried it through to his bedroom and placed it on the bed beside him. He’d moved the hover chair in her absence, and was now sitting a little higher. She knew he’d chosen his moment to make the move. Rafer was not a man who liked to show weakness to others. Even to her.

  Parker wouldn’t deny that saddened her. After so long with Knox, she was used to him showing her a side that no one else saw. When two of his favorite uncles had died within a deya of each other, as was the Shuzon way, she’d been there to hold him when he’d cried. He hadn’t been ashamed to show her his emotional pain. She hoped that eventually Rafer would come to feel the same way.

  “You didn’t have to make me something to eat,” he told her, when she returned to her earlier position in the club chair opposite his bed.

  With a shrug, she said, “It’s something I used to eat as a kid on Earth.” Her lips twitched at a memory that popped into her head. “My dad used to love fishing. He used to go out on the river at the end of every semanal. He spent a fortune on all the gear, and my mom and I wouldn’t see him for heurs. He always came back with salmon. Every semanal.”

  When her grin grew even wider, he cocked a brow. “Why does that make you smile?”

  “The rivers closest to us were filled with trout. My momma said he must have gone to the store every evening before he came home. We never told him we knew he hadn’t caught it.”

  Rafer smiled. “Male pride. Something that crosses every species, regardless of nationality.”

  She nodded at that, finding it rather apropos considering her thoughts of only moments ago. “You might not like it, but even from the KitchQizard, it’s pretty tasty.”

  He picked up the rye bread, a recipe that she’d also had to install into the program, and nibbled at the sandwich. She could tell he was surprised by the flavor, because he paused, then took a larger bite.

  “Good, right?” she asked when he’d eaten half of it.

  “There’s a strange taste to it, but yes, it’s very good. Like nothing else I’ve ever eaten.”

  “Unfortunately for me, the Federation didn’t introduce any Earthling food into the Union.” When she scrunched her nose, he smiled. “I wasn’t the best cook, and I rarely listened to my momma when she used to tell me about her recipes, but, and I don’t know how, I’ve remembered some. I’ve put them all in the KitchQizard.”

  “If Earthling food tastes like that, you should dedicate one of the restaurants to the cuisine.”

  She grinned. “You really did enjoy it.”

  “It’s strange, and the texture is odd, but it’s delicious.”

  “That’s not a bad idea about making more of a big deal about Earth food. It’s better than some of the crap on the KitchQizard’s pre-installed menus.” She pulled a face. “Wait until I get you to try a burger. You’ll love it. Knox does.”

  “A beer-gur?”

  She shook her head. “Burr-gur. It’s like a meat patty.” It was his turn to scrunch his nose, so she waved a hand. “I promise you’ll like it. Everyone loved burgers. And everyone I make them for always enjoys them. I don’t see why you should be any different.”

  He smiled as he took the last bite of his sandwich. “If it’s anything like this, then I’m sure you’re right. Griljerrd, I needed that.”

  “You looked a little thin—underneath all the bruises, that is.”

  Rafer grunted. “That’s probably the first solid food I’ve had in a semanal.”

  She nibbled her lip at that confession. That gave her a rough idea of a timeline. The Barconians had obviously tried to invade Federation airspace a semanal or so ago. She couldn’t imagine how bad Rafer had looked when he’d first been taken to a med clinic. He looked like death warmed up now, so God only knew what he’d looked like then.

  Her stomach cramped at the thought.

  She’d been here, at the hotel, working on some godforsaken ledger, or trying to keep her staff in line, while Rafer had been fighting for his life.

  War was a normal occurrence in the Federation. Not on established planets, but with nations who wanted to become a part of the Union and who had been rejected, or those who had been “selected” and didn’t appreciate the invitation.

  Earth had been the only planet entirely incapable of defending itself against the Black Star Fleet’s might. Even in the latter half of the twenty-first century, space exploration had still been relatively undeveloped. Humans had gone no further than their own solar system. Most of the world’s physicists and astronomers had never imagined something as huge as the Federation would be banging at their door. So, more than anything, space tourism had grown, and money had not been spent on competent and advanced space weaponry.

  While the planets who wanted to reject the Federation’s extended invitation did have fleets in space, the Union was too huge, their armies too large to conquer. They were up shit creek like Earth had been.

  That was one of the reasons why she disliked the Fleet and all it stood for. The individual soldiers were pawns, but the Generals were all Queens, and no other planet had a hope in hell of reaching checkmate.

  While she was still pissed that Knox had kept such an important truth from her, in a way, it came as a relief.

  She wouldn’t have been able to stand knowing Rafer was somewhere in the black soup, in God only knew what kind of danger, while she was kept in the dark.

  Not that she’d tell Knox that, though. It would only encourage him to hide things from her. And if he valued his balls, this would be the first and last major secret he withheld from her.

  “You’ve gone all serious on me,” he commented, eying her over his cup of kaffa.

  She could have lied. Instead, she told him the truth. “I was thinking about how I was working in the hotel when you were being shot at. You might have died and I wouldn’t have known. My deya would have gone on like normal, not realizing that my world had collapsed about me.”

  Parker found a mean satisfaction in Rafer’s blanched face. She hurt, he’d done that to her, why shouldn’t he know it?

  “It makes me wonder if you’re worth it, Rafer. Because my heart wasn’t enough to keep you away from the front line, was it? Knox told me what you promised him, and even knowing the repercussions, you broke it.”

  His hand trembled as he set the cup down on the tray. “I had no choice, Parker.”

  She refused to be moved by the hoarseness of his voice. “You keep on saying that, Rafer.”


  “It’s the truth. Look, I’m, I was a very high rank in the Fleet. They don’t put guys like me in danger. They keep us at a safe distance from the action, because they know how important men in my rank are. When they asked me to go on this particular mission, I said yes because I knew they’d keep me relatively safe.”

  She snorted. “Looks like that really worked out.”

  He glared at her. “That’s my point, it didn’t, but it should have. There were spacecraft carriers in front of my ship, Parker. They’re always at the back of the convoy in space battles—that’s how far back I was. The enemy should never have come close to me.”

  His face was lined with strain, because halfway through his impassioned words, he’d sat up without the hover chair at his back to support him.

  She knew it was unfair to raise this topic at such a moment. Tisiya had been abducted, and Rafer was recuperating. Still, she needed to know, and now, she had some answers.

  Knox, it seemed, had been right when he’d guessed there was a mole in Rafer’s unit. Because Rafer hadn’t been lying when he’d said he should have been safe. The earnestness in his face, in his tone of voice…he’d spoken the truth. Or at least, the truth as he’d known it. It made her feel better knowing he hadn’t flouted his promise to Knox. She knew Knox would feel a lot more at ease with that knowledge, too.

  “You have to believe me, Parker. I would…” He sighed. “I know I’ve fought this, what we have together, but I would never do anything to put you in danger. Knox never seemed to understand that you serve for allotted times in the Fleet. That, Libac, after we spent the notte together discussing the bond, and then Fahnil, even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have just left the Fleet. It’s not something you can just quit.

  “I’d reenlisted before Knox met you. I didn’t think he’d find a mate from another planet, that he’d completely flout Shuzon convention by taking someone without me. I mean, you don’t sign on for an annal, Parker. Especially not in my position. They don’t let guys like me go, not when they’ve invested so much in me. I signed on for sixty-five annals.”