MenageLost

by Cynthia Sax

  Metal scraped against metal. Mirian pulled and the door unexpectedly swung open. She flew backward, landing hard on her ass. “Oomph.”

  A vine slid along the tile. “Steve.” A shaky laugh tumbled from her lips. “Where are Xan and Furu?” She groaned as she pushed away from the floor, her body aching. “Are they in trouble?” Steve cocked a bloom to one side, indicating that he didn’t know.

  “They must be.” Mirian rushed through the door. Blue mud oozed down the frame and dripped on the threshold. “Or they would have rescued me.” She ran down the path, her lungs burning and her legs throbbing with pain, frantic to find her males, the loves of her life.

  An eerie silence settled upon the forest, no insects chirping, no sus grunting, no large, sexy males jostling with each other. Let them be alive. Mirian’s eyes stung with unshed tears, unable to deal with another loss, another goodbye. I’ll do anything, give anything. Don’t take them from me.

  A tremor shook the ground and a ship’s engine rumbled to life. Not their ship. She sprinted toward their makeshift camp. It can’t be their ship. “Furu! Xan!”

  Steve’s vines reached out to her. Mirian ducked and his leaves skimmed over her back. Her heart pounded, her fears bursting out of her chest. They wouldn’t leave me. It must be slavers.

  She broke into the clearing and skidded to a stop, her feet slipping on the flattened grass. The fire had been extinguished, Furu’s cooking gear removed. Xan’s impressive rack of deadly swords and daggers no longer leaned against the big tree. The vegetation had been cleared around the ship’s landing gear, the ramp remaining open.

  Too neat for slavers. Mirian staggered backward, pain piercing her soul. They couldn’t. They wouldn’t. There must be a reason. She clung desperately to the last remnants of trust, unable to believe they’d leave her. “Xan! Furu! Where are you?”

  Xan stomped down the ramp, guns in both of his hands. “How did you free yourself?” He glared at her, his red eyes glowing, his face dark with an unsettling fury.

  “She got out?” Furu appeared behind him, his forehead creased with lines.

  “I got out?” She sucked in her breath. “You locked me in.” Her thighs trembled, her knees threatening to collapse under her. “Deliberately.” Why? Her body temperature dropped. “You were leaving me here.”

  Xan looked back over his shoulder at Furu. Furu raised one of his fine white eyebrows, and Xan shook his head, their wordless communication excluding her.

  “We were leaving you for a day at the very most.” Furu’s voice lowered to that condescending softness adults used with animals and small children. “The plan was to meet with the Balazoid warship and then come back for you.”

  They think they’ll come back but they won’t. They won’t ever return. “I’m coming with you.” Mirian hurried toward the ramp.

  Xan straightened his shoulders and widened his stance, blocking her path. “No.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts, hugging her torso. “I’m your breeder. You said I was your breeder.” Xan’s lips flattened, his primitive face hardening, and a wild desperation rushed through her. “I’ll do whatever you say. Have anal sex. Anything.” Her gaze lifted to Furu. “If you don’t want me to talk, I won’t talk. I’ll—”

  “You’re staying here,” Xan bellowed, and she winced, her ears ringing.

  “You have to, Mirian. It’s safer for all of us.” Furu placed one of his palms on Xan’s leather-clad arm, both men in their full uniforms. “Balazoids may share breeders.” He rubbed his hand over the Dreck warrior’s biceps. “But we don’t.”

  “And if one of those bastards touches you, I’ll rip the verme off his head, one by one, squishing them between my fingers and thumbs.” Xan’s face grew frighteningly fierce. “Then I’ll gouge out his eyes and pop them like—”

  “Yes, yes, you’ll gleefully kill any male touching her. We get the transmission, Xan.” Furu’s lips twitched. “Do you see, Mirian? If you don’t stay here, he’ll lose his temper and get the three of us killed.”

  “I’ll hide on your ship.” She gripped her hands, knowing they wouldn’t return. “I’ll be quiet. No one will know.”

  “Until they perform a scan of our ship’s life forms.” Xan holstered his guns and moved forward, crowding Mirian backward.

  “I’ll slather myself with mud,” she argued.

  “They’ll smell you.” Furu grasped her right wrist, his fingers surprisingly firm. Xan gripped her left wrist and they pulled her arms back. “Steve, hold onto her.”

  “No, don’t.” Mirian struggled. “Please don’t, Steve.” The damn plant, her supposed friend, sided with the other males, wrapping his vines around her arms and legs, holding her securely.

  “Stay here.” Furu curved his palm over her cheek and skimmed his mouth over hers, his touch frustratingly brief, his expression cool and aristocratic, his red-eyed gaze rising to a point above her. “We’ll be gone for less than a day.” He backed away from her, snapping the vine Steve had curled around his ankle.

  “This is for your own protection, female.” Xan grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, brutally smacking their bodies together. “We can’t lose you.” He kissed her hard, driving her head backward. Mirian sucked on his lips, trying to hold onto him, to keep them with her, to make this last embrace stretch into forever.

  Xan wrenched his body out of her reach, breathing heavily, his chest rapidly rising and falling. “We’ll be back for you,” he grumbled the exact same words the captain of the USS Fitzgerald had uttered.

  “No you won’t,” she whispered, sagging against Steve, every drop of passion drained from her.

  Her two males, the loves of her life, strode into the ship without a backward glance, the ramp closing behind them. The ground quaked as their vessel lifted, the roar of the engines thundering in her ears, the wind whipping her hair around her face, Steve’s leaves striking her skin. Mirian embraced the sting, the pain, her punishment.

  The ship disappeared into the mist, and Steve released her. She fell forward, jagged shards of agony shooting over her knees and up her thighs, and she waited, kneeling, for Furu and Xan to return, knowing they never would.

  * * * * *

  “Your father is more tolerant than I am.” Captain Grok relaxed in his silver metallic chair, a tiny cup of rare Balazoid nectar clasped in his wrinkled hands. The huge viewscreen behind him revealed the black expanse of space, distant stars sparkling, Viridi’s solitary sun to Furu’s back.

  Furu sat, facing the elderly military man, his legs crossed, one ankle dangling limply in the air, his expression conveying carefully cultivated boredom, his churning emotions smothered under layers of ice.

  More tolerant? He stifled his snort, his bastard father deeming his transgressions unworthy of notice, considering his sons as replaceable as his breeders.

  “If my son had followed your unnatural path, I would have disposed of the Dreck immediately.” Grok flung the declaration into the chamber with a malicious glee, his red eyes gleaming.

  “I’d like to see you try,” Xan growled, his rash response threatening to close the opening Furu had been waiting for.

  Furu pressed the length of his leg against the warrior’s hard thigh, silently reminding him of their plan and everything they had to lose if it went wrong, their female alone and unprotected, relying on them to eliminate this danger to her, to them, to their future.

  “We are banished to No-Man’s Land.” Furu released a delicate shudder, playing the role of the bored aristocrat, a persona he’d perfected while unsuccessfully trying to please his father.

  “That is a fate far worse than death, I assure you.” Furu peered at Grok over the rim of his silver-lined cup, his haughty expression concealing a frustration both Xan and he felt, the one day away from Mirian stretching into two and then three.

  “I welcome the day we complete our assignments and return to Balazoid.” The lies flowed off his tongue.

  “You may return alone at any time
and the council will welcome you with open arms.” Grok’s gaze slid to Xan.

  “Fuck you and your council,” Xan snapped, returning to their practiced script, throwing himself into his role as the emotion-driven monster, playing to the Dreck stereotype. “The day we set foot on Balazoid—”

  “That day won’t come. You’ll never again set foot on Balazoid.” The verme covering Grok’s skull writhed, as bad tempered as their host. “I’ll see to that.”

  “Says the Balazoid also relegated to No-Man’s Land.” Xan’s top lip curled.

  “Captain Grok is overseeing our missions. It’s a noble post.” Furu placed his hand on Xan’s arm, signaling for him to temporarily withdraw from the conversation. “Have our findings been processed by your crew?”

  Grok’s gaze shifted to Furu. “The planet won’t serve our purposes.”

  “Of course, it won’t,” Furu drawled. “Viridi is barbaric and uncivilized, fit only for plants and amani.” The vine attached to his leg dropped silently to the floor and slinked into the shadows, undetected by Grok. “I’m shocked the council would send a warrior of your statue to inquire about it.”

  Grok’s chest expanded. “That’s not what I’m assigned to inquire into.”

  “After three endless days, he’s finally telling us,” Xan grumbled, his voice low and deep.

  “I’m telling Furu.” Grok handed his cup to the serving robot, the faceless machine bowing before the captain. “As your kind doesn’t know the meaning of honor and loyalty.”

  Oh shit. Furu held his breath, fervently hoping Xan wouldn’t lose his temper completely, putting them all in jeopardy.

  The warrior straightened in his seat, his eyes blazing with heat and fire. “My kind completes the tasks Balazoids are too weak to undertake.” He rested his hands on his guns. “Without our specialized skills, your kind would have lost your foolish war before it began.”

  “Only a Dreck would think our war is foolish,” Grok sneered.

  Furu set his cup on the robot’s tray, glass clinking against metal. “What are you inquiring into, Captain Grok? It must be of grave importance to warrant your presence.”

  “I’m searching for a Dreck assassin.” Grok slid a tablet toward Furu. “He’s extremely dangerous, a threat to all of Balazoid.”

  Red eyes set in a pale face stared up at them, savage and defiant, the Dreck’s human hair whiter than his skin. Furu scanned through the images, feigning an interest. “And the female?” A humanoid female with long lifeless pale hair and blank violet eyes gazed out of the screen.

  Grok surveyed the empty room and leaned forward. “It is a future-bender. We suspect the Dreck captured it.”

  Furu blinked, expressing the expected amount of surprise, not caring an amani’s ass about some colorless future-predicting female. “This could secure our victory.” He tilted his head, his verme limp, the strands missing Mirian’s touch as much as he did. “The Balazoid who recovered the future-bender would be a hero.”

  “This is why the council trusts me and only me with this assignment.” Grok tugged down on his ill-fitting uniform.

  Xan snorted, his nostrils flaring.

  “And this is why you’re talking to us.” Furu tapped his index finger against his mouth, slowly leading Grok toward the decision they wanted. “If the Dreck assassin enters this sector, he’ll stop on Viridi to replenish his supplies.”

  Grok’s eyes widened. “And when he does, you’ll inform me.” His voice rose. “I’ll dispose of the Dreck assassin and retrieve the Federation future-bender.”

  “We’ll do no such thing,” Xan stormed, pounding his fists on the seat, denting the metal. “We completed our assignment on Viridi. We’re moving to the next assignment and earning our way back to Balazoid.”

  “You could complete a hundred assignments and not earn your way back to Balazoid,” the captain spat. “But…” He met Furu’s gaze, his beady eyes speculative. “If you assist me in capturing the Dreck assassin, I’ll ensure your crimes are forgiven.”

  “If?” Xan sprang to his feet, his boots thudding on the tiles. “You want us to wait on Viridi for how long? Forever?” He towered over them, his muscular physique dominating the space. “On the off chance the Dreck assassin might enter the sector?” He rammed his hands down on his gun handles. “No deal.”

  “You don’t have a choice.” Grok slapped a button on his communicator. “You’re staying on Viridi and you’ll notify me when the Dreck assassin lands.” The doors slid open and five burly soldiers entered, guns in their hands, their bodies covered with protective armor. “That is a direct order. These males will escort you to your ship and you’ll return to the planet or it will be my great honor to personally dispose of you.”

  “Why you—” Xan surged toward Grok.

  “No, Xan.” Furu stepped between the two males, the soldiers’ guns trained on Xan. “Don’t.” He patted his warrior’s chest and one of the soldiers sneered. “This is an opportunity for us to earn our way back to Balazoid sooner.” He turned to Grok. “We’ll do this.”

  “Good.” Grok nodded. “Listen to your master, Dreck.” He smiled smugly. “Take them away.” He waved his hand.

  The soldiers approached. Furu grabbed Xan’s arm and dragged him out of the room, the warrior glaring back over his shoulder at the warship’s captain. Xan grumbled curse-filled nonsense as they strode through the narrow corridors, a visual recording system following their movements, the soldiers listening to their conversation.

  Furu pressed his hand on their ship’s control panel, unlocking the doors, and they entered their makeshift home, leaving their guards on the warship. “Engage,” Furu instructed their guidance system, the route back to Viridi already programmed.

  The ship shuddered and shook as it broke away from the Balazoid warship. Furu fell forward and Xan strapped his arms around his waist, steadying him.

  “Finally, we’re returning to Viridi.” Xan pulled Furu toward him and their forms collided, strength meeting strength. “To our breeder, Mirian, the unnatural female who loves us, an exiled Balazoid and a Dreck.” He tapped his chest.

  “We’re returning home.” Furu leaned back and met his gaze.

  Xan flattened his palms against Furu’s back, his fingers splayed, the heat of his hands searing through the leather. “Home.” He smiled, his primitive face softening.

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s just you and me now, Steve.” She gazed up at the heavy, white mist. Droplets formed on her bare arms, her skin clean of the concealing mud, Mirian no longer caring if she was captured or killed. “We gave them three days. They’re not returning.”

  Steve draped his vines over her shoulders, his leaves smoother than Xan’s palms, broader than Furu’s slender fingers. Mirian blinked back tears, the evening breeze blowing her hair away from her face.

  “We should leave.” She turned her head toward the path, the prospect of another night spent alone in the station unappealing. “We’d be fools to wait here.” She didn’t move, clinging to a hope that made no damn sense.

  “Furu and Xan aren’t coming back.” If I tell myself that enough times, I’ll believe it. Mirian watched the sky, looking for a ship she’d never see. “I—”

  A droning hum broke the endless silence. Mirian froze, her heart pounding. Steve fluttered his leaves against her back. “It isn’t,” she squeaked. “It can’t be.”

  The noise grew louder, continuous, foreign and undeniable. She held her breath. Silver landing gear pierced the mist.

  “A ship.” She leapt to her feet, her bare toes planted firmly on the ground, the grass brushing against her legs. The achingly familiar underbelly of a ship appeared. “Their ship.” Mirian glanced behind her. “Right?”

  Steve bobbed his fuchsia blooms, confirming her observation.

  “Their ship,” she repeated, clutching her hands together. “They came back for me.” The ground shook as the ship touched down, and Mirian swayed against Steve, the plant propping her up. “
Xan and Furu are here.” Excitement zipped up her spine.

  The ramp lowered, the interior lights blindingly bright. She squinted, searching for her males. Boot heels rang against metal, a rhythm she recognized.

  “Xan!” She sprinted toward the ship.

  “Mirian!” Her warrior ran down the ramp, Furu following closely, the two males clad in black leather, fit and healthy and drawing nearer with each step.

  Mirian sprang into the air, reaching out for Xan. He caught her, their bodies colliding with a bone-shaking smack. “You’re here.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, clinging to him, her joy bubbling past her lips.

  “You’re really here.” She met Furu’s gaze, a boyish smile plastered across his handsome face. “Both of you.” She cupped his cheek, his skin warm and alive.

  “We’re here.” Furu turned his head and pressed his lips against her palm.

  “We said we’d return,” Xan said gruffly, his big hands curved over her ass. “Did you doubt us, female?” He walked with her, his rolling gait unhampered by her weight.

  “You said a day at most.” She inhaled his male musk, too happy to be angry.

  Furu winced. “We were as unhappy about that as you were. We had each other but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t right.”

  “We were incomplete.” Xan laid Mirian gently on the grass. “We had holes here.” He placed her right hand over his heart, his expression somber, his eyes glowing fiercely.

  “Holes only you can fill.” Furu flattened her fingers against his chest, warmth in his aristocratic face. “Make us whole again, Mirian.”

  She reclined, gazing up at them, her two males. “I’m empty also.” She untied the leather straps at her hips and opened her thighs. “I need you, both of you.”

  Xan raced Furu to undress, the males stripping their uniforms from their bodies, revealing pale skin. “Where?” Xan’s voice lowered, deepening with desire. “Where do you need us?” His cock sprang free, large and hard.