by Erin Tate
What good was a ship’s ambassador if she couldn’t work?
She simply prayed they’d remove the language implant before they sent her back. She knew the government’s secrets, knew what they hid within the chips and what that meant for ambassadors. Sure, the project was classified, but no one paid attention to secretaries.
The male grew closer and Joyce touched the control pad for the bed, raising her until she was almost sitting up. She winced as her weight shifted, the healing skin on her hip pulling and fighting the stretch with her new position. She groaned and suddenly Resane was at her side, tsk’ing at her and fiddling with her bed.
“I told you to remain flat,” he growled at her.
“I’m not getting fired while I’m flat on my back.” The bed shifted again and she batted at his quickly moving hands with one of her own. “Quit that. Stop touching things.”
“The commander has ordered—”
“Well, if the commander is making demands, he can bring his happy ass down here. Oh, wait,” she gave him a blank look. “He’s busy.”
She thought she’d imagined Kede clutching her hand as she’d endured the first, spine-breaking waves of pain. She’d pretended he was there to support her as her veins caught fire, and as a wave of relief coursed through her. She’d passed out, exhausted from everything her body had endured, and those few imaginary moments were all she had for the last four days.
Because he was busy.
“Joyce…”
Joyce glared at him. “Resane, I appreciate all you’ve done—I truly do—but there are times when lies are no longer necessary.” She was so tired, so tired of arguing and hoping and being on edge. “He doesn’t care. I understand. Please tell him I appreciate his strength while I began treatment, but stop telling me he wishes he could be here.” She sighed. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Don’t want to hear what?” The male stood beside her bed and she glanced at his insignia. She wished she could make out his name, but her implant had yet to provide a translation for the Doshan written word. She simply recognized his robes as belonging to an Ambassador. One she’d never seen before.
“Nothing of concern, Ambassador.” Joyce used the same tone as the one she constantly used on the director. Smooth and soothing, strong yet assuring that she had things under control.
“Hmm… Resane?” He turned his eyes on the medico and she groaned. Resane was the biggest narc known to man.
“She does not believe the commander is concerned with her welfare.” The medico clenched his jaw and she noticed the throbbing vein at his temple.
“Ah.” The ambassador drew out the word. “I see.” He frowned for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. “He has thought of nothing but your safety for the last two turnings.”
Turnings. Days. Two days. And it’d been two days since she’d seen a soul beyond Resane and the male before her.
“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t about to get her hopes up. Hell, the reason she was segregated could merely be because they didn’t want her tainting the air of the Doshan warriors. “Is that so?”
“That is so.” The ambassador frowned more and turned his attention to Resane. “Did you not tell her of the precautions?”
“I was not told to tell her,” the medico countered.
“You can’t hold her prisoner without providing reasons. We treat Jorslugs better.”
“Kede didn’t tell me I could. I was specifically instructed to keep her calm and assist in her healing. Protect and nurture.” Resane narrowed his eyes. “Do you think telling her all would make her calm? She would probably run off like an empty-headed female and how could I protect her then?”
Wait, protect? Nurture?
“You are the lead medico and you did not think to inform your patient—”
Resane snarled. “Do not speak of patient care. I have done what is best—”
“Leaving her ignorant is best?” The stranger snorted.
This time the medico bared his teeth.
The unknown Doshan did the same.
Right that moment the medical doors slid open once again, granting Ambassador Martins entrance. Lovely. If the area was meant to be off-limits, then the chick obviously shouldn’t be nearby. Plus, if she was to be protected, she figured kicking the woman out would be step one.
“Uh, guys?”
Martins narrowed her eyes and turned toward their small group. There was nothing sweet or even calm in the woman’s gaze. No, enraged and psychotic seemed to fit best.
“I am a Doshan ambassador and leader—”
“And I am the Master Medico with certificates in—”
“Uh, guys?”
Martins eased closer, not even noticed by the two males. The nearer she got, Joyce saw more evidence of the woman’s crazed appearance. It wasn’t just in the wild eyes. No, her clothes were disheveled, hair unbrushed. Something frightening lurked in her features.
“You will defer to my judgment!”
“Defer? I am not a youngling playing in the pathways. I have not deferred to—”
“Guys!” Her yell overrode their continued bickering and suddenly she was the focus of two very impassioned, very large Doshan males. It’d be sexy if she weren’t scarred to hell and back. And if, well, she wasn’t so attracted to Kede.
Stupid alien bastard.
“I didn’t get much out of your conversation, but it seems y’all are supposed to keep others away from me.”
Both males nodded.
“Good, because she’s a little too close for comfort.” Joyce pointed at Martins, Martins glared at her, and then the two males snarled in unison.
Apparently they could form a united front when they had a joint target. Thank God for that.
“Does she know you’ve turned her into a hybrid whore? My planet won’t stand for this!” The woman screeched and rushed forward. “They want her back.”
“It has been explained to you.” The ambassador held out his hands, moving his larger body toward the end of the bed. “Joyce Enner Tria-se is now a Doshan citizen.”
Resane glared at the male and then he too focused on the female. “Continuing on this path will result in unpleasant circumstances, Ambassador Martins.”
“She is a Terran. They’ve demanded her return. I won’t lose my position over this!” Martins rushed left then spun right and around Resane.
Both men stumbled and Joyce wondered how the Doshan males managed to live beyond toddler-hood if they couldn’t even intercept and grab one small woman. Then she remembered. Martins was a woman and women—females—on Dosha were treated like treasures. To harm one was a one-way street to pain and incarceration.
All of that meant Martins had almost no trouble appearing at Joyce’s side, no issues grasping her wrist and then pressing a small metal disk to her chest. A disc that looked vaguely familiar.
“They want you back and they’ll get you.” Those crazed eyes met hers.
A low hum thrummed through her body and Joyce realized what the woman had done. She’d slapped a teleportation device to Joyce and she had no doubt of the destination. For some reason, Terra wanted her happy ass back on the planet. Well, she wanted to live so…
As fast as she could, she snatched the disk from her loose gown and smacked it onto Martins’ chest. She used whatever strength remained inside her and shoved the woman as hard as she could. The men might not be able to attack a female, but it wasn’t against the law on Terra. Everyone was equal which mean pushing Martins was A-okay.
Martins stumbled back a handful of steps, colliding with a nearby cart. She tumbled and fell to the ground, hatred burning in her gaze. It took no time for the woman to regain her feet and then she was coming toward Joyce once again.
Only… only the woman disappeared with a bright flash of light and the space she’d occupied was barren.
Part of her regretted the loss, but she reminded herself of the fact that Martins had already been wearing a copy of the small, silver disk that’d bee
n pressed to Joyce’s chest. They were both supposed to be transported to Terra’s surface, then.
Whoever wanted Joyce had no problem killing the other ambassador in the process. How long did a returning ambassador have before her brain exploded courtesy of their language implant? One second? Sixty minutes? A full day?
Joyce stared at the spot once occupied by Martins and she wondered if the woman’s death would be instant or drawn out. That was one thing she hadn’t been able to determine when she’d glanced at the files.
As much as she disliked Martins, she hoped it was quick.
“Tria-se to medical. Tria-se report to medical.” Resane’s voice broke into her thoughts and she focused on the two men still nearby.
While Resane snared a scanner and rushed to her, the ambassador barked into a comm. “Track her. I want her back on this ship immediately.” A small pause. “I do not care about inter-planetary politics. The Terran woman attacked and attempted to kidnap a Doshan female. I will have her head!”
Joyce didn’t understand half of what he shouted, but the last had her giggling.
What head?
She snorted and chuckled. It was morbid, and she wondered if she’d lost her mind, but his demand made her laugh. One chuckle turned into ten turned into a massive belly laugh that didn’t want to end.
Slowly, those transformed to tears, sheet-soaking tears that flowed over her cheeks and sank into the pillow beneath her head. She cried and sniffled, allowing the panic she’d experienced transform into soul-wrenching sobs.
She’d almost died. If she’d been successfully taken to the surface, she would have. Her life almost ended in a bright blink of time. One more second, one more breath, and she would have been dragged to the surface much like Martins. Because Terra wanted her back on their soil. She had no doubt that those demanding her presence knew of the implant.
But why kill her? She’d been accidentally chosen and dragged to the Vehly. She didn’t choose to go into space.
And yet…
“…turned her into a hybrid whore…”
Kede rushed into medical and she fought her body’s desire to stare at him, to drink in his presence. She had to remember that he’d abandoned her. He’d seen her through the hard parts and left her to recover alone.
It didn’t make him any less pretty to look at.
“Status,” he snapped the word and the males launched into explanations, picking up where the other left off and vice versa. By the time the details were laid before him, the commander looked ready to kill.
“Get her back here. I do not care how. I do not care if she must be stolen so that she may face justice, but I will have her on my ship.” Kede’s voice was low, deadly, and Joyce finally found her voice.
It had to be explained. She just prayed everyone on her planet wouldn’t suffer for her leader’s evil decisions. “There won’t be anything left of her to find.”
All three men turned to her then, Resane and the ambassador seeming to be surprised that she was even present. The only one conscious of her presence appeared to be Kede.
He simply lifted a single brow in question. Apparently the expression wasn’t limited to Terrans.
“The language implant is designed to—”
Resane rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but a low growl from Kede silenced him. “Continue, my harae.”
“I really need to be told what that means.”
Kede tilted his head but said nothing else.
Joyce sighed. “The language implants are provided to the ambassadors by the Terran government. Agreed?”
She looked to the ambassador for confirmation and he immediately gave voice to his thoughts. “That is correct. They are manufactured on the planet and then provided to the Doshan for implantation.”
“Right. So, Terrans,” pointed at herself and Kede growled again. This time she ignored him. “Can create the chips, code them and manufacture them, but can’t manage to implant them ourselves? Does that make sense?” All three men frowned, but remained silent. “So, we allow Doshans to do our dirty work. Your doctors, medicos, put them inside us.”
“Yes, but—”
“But no one bothered to check them prior to implantation.” Joyce sighed, suddenly exhausted, and she let her eyes close. “If you check, you’ll see that they’re set to explode or release poison or… something. I just know that if I step foot on Terra ever again, I’m dead.”
Chapter Eleven
Kede settled into his makeshift office, easing into the chair and activating the screens embedded in the surface of his desk, encouraging them to rise from the level plane. One swipe to his left brought up crew assignments while a wave of his right hand unfolded Hassee’s report. Where his friend’s analysis ended, Resane’s continued.
The center of his viewing area remained barren. Normally yet another set of notifications would fill the space, but he needed a clear view of Joyce. Nothing could stand between him and his harae ever again, not even his responsibilities to Dosha.
He’d kept his distance after her injury for both his benefit and hers. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself if he remained at Joyce’s side and she couldn’t heal if he constantly bothered her. At the time, he’d decided his suit could be put on hold until she was healthy.
Obviously that had not been the correct course of action since he nearly lost her to Ambassador Martins’ machinations, which were aided by Doshan traitors. If he’d been at her side, the female would have never gotten so close, never been able to threaten his harae’s life.
Yes, he now knew, without a doubt, that had Martins succeeded, his harae would not have survived.
He brought the recent missive from the Terran government, notifying him of the female’s untimely death.
Brain aneurism… Apologies… Harm peaceful relations… Rogue…
If only Kede could believe a single letter of a single word.
A soft moan sounded from the other side of the room, the body beneath the sheets twitching, and he waved his hands, banishing the screens from view.
He accepted his earlier mistakes. He should have been at Joyce’s side, ensuring her health at his own hand. Hadn’t he been taught about the connection between a harae and her harau? Their bodies fed off each other, exchanging energies as they reveled in the touch of skin on skin. As one healed, that connection was vital.
For Joyce, as a new Doshan, it was doubly important. He cursed himself to the darkness and knew he should have listened to Resane.
“You must spend time with her.”
“Her conversion is slowing.”
“She is not healing as she should.”
Two days and he’d been a selfish bastard, worrying about his body’s response to her while he should have worried over her health. He did not deserve his harae, however he would not give her up.
It had changed now, all things had changed. The treaty between the Planetary Collective hung precariously above Dosha and Terra. Council members from their home planet were en route while the Terran government postured.
They had no idea about the information Joyce provided to them though they did know of her transition. He had no doubt the truth was fed to both Ambassador Martins and the Terran government.
Which is why they want you, my harae, but they shall not have you.
Another whimpering moan and Kede rose from behind the small desk. If Joyce’s recovery continued at its slow pace, he would have a larger workstation brought to his rooms. Even if they did not touch, his presence and scent were integral to her recovery and transition.
Which was why, as she slept, they’d relocated her to his suite. A new doorway to her quarters was already in place, installed after her injury when he realized he would never let her go. Now, her old suites would act as an escape for her as she came to terms with the changes inside her.
With his touch came the rest of her transition.
Quietly, Kede slid into bed beside her, careful of the sensitivity of her wounds.
Resane reminded him that the new skin and flesh were vulnerable and should be treated gently.
He resolved to always treat his harae as if she were the softest petal.
With utmost care, he reached for her hand, smiling when her twitches and moans instantly eased. He lay on his side, head resting on a pillow as Joyce slept on. Instead of twining his fingers with hers, he let his hand lay passively beneath her palm.
Should she become restless, he did not want to hinder her.
More so, should an intruder venture into his private quarters he wanted to be ready to destroy the interloper. Now that he knew of the additional purpose behind the Terran implants, he’d ached to feel their blood flowing over his hands. Someone breaking into his suite would be the perfect answer to his prayers.
Joyce moaned and whined. She clutched his hand, fingers squeezing his and he was quick to soothe her further. “Easy, my harae. You are safe here.”
“Kede…” She sighed.
“Right here.” He reached up with his free hand and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “I won’t leave you again, Joyce.”
“Mmm…” She nuzzled him and it took every ounce of training not to gather her into his arms.
Instead, he eased closer, allowing their arms to align from bicep to wrist. “Sleep now. I will protect you in the night.”
“Kede…” His name was said with yet another breathy sigh as she settled into sleep. “My Kede…”
Yes, he belonged to her just as she belonged to him. He just hoped she still wanted to claim him in the bright light of day. Tomorrow would bring many things. Most important among them—the truth.
* * *
Gently brightening light woke her, the glow growing with every breath. It lured Joyce from sleep and she really didn’t want to go there. Awake meant pain. Even with Resane’s treatments, her body throbbed with a never-ending ache. Would she ever breathe without discomfort? She hoped so.
A delicious scent drifted to her on the room’s cooled air. Sandalwood with a hint of sweet. Kede.