Trazzak

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Trazzak Page 9

by Layla Nash


  He grumbled and held her tighter, reveling in the soft crush of her curves against him, and nipped her lip as he broke the kiss. Jessalyn dangled in his arms, looking dazed, and Trazzak’s spikes rattled with the satisfaction of leaving her speechless. She blinked up at him, and Trazzak bumped his nose to hers before he kissed her again, slow and soft until her fingers dug into his shoulders and she arched against him.

  The ship jolted and he straightened, checking screens to make sure nothing untoward happened as the beam dragged them to the dock, but turned his attention back to Jessalyn before she bolted. Trazzak brushed his thumb across her cheek as he made sure she was steady on her feet again, and leaned close to murmur in her ear. “We are both going to meet this asshole, and you’re going to listen to my orders from now on. You don’t work alone anymore. Understood?”

  She blinked, absently touching her lips, and she looked around as if she’d never seen the bridge before. Jessalyn cleared her throat and pulled away, her skin once more turning nearly purple, and she patted at her hair and tugged on her clothes. “That wasn’t… that wasn’t something a captain should do. I’ll, uh, consider. What you said. But we have to go soon to meet Ethan… I mean, Nathan… and I have to... Get ready.”

  His chest swelled as he watched her stumble to the doors, still flustered, and Trazzak couldn’t contain a bit of a smirk as he studied her fine, generous ass in the tight pants she wore. She might have been accustomed to working alone, but not for much longer. He’d see to that.

  Jess

  Jess never expected him to kiss her. Not staid, rule-following Trazzak. She couldn’t get the memory of his lips crushing to hers out of her head, even after she donned the Furtoli disguise and strode onto the orbiting market with Trazzak close on her heels. Her stomach clenched every time she looked at him. Imagine, someone telling her to follow orders. That wasn’t how things worked. She had her own mission and would damn well make sure it was a success, regardless of what everyone else tried to do.

  But her body thrilled every time she thought of the strength in his hands, the way he pulled her to him and she dangled in his grip. She’d felt completely... out of control. Under his spell. Not exactly helpless but definitely as if she’d surrendered all control to him — and she didn’t even remember how it happened.

  Jess shook herself to get rid of the distracting thoughts. She couldn’t afford to be thinking about how surprisingly soft Trazzak’s lips were when she faced off with Nathan. And every time she looked at Trazzak, or caught him watching her from the corner of her eye, she got all flustered and overheated again. For no good reason!

  She gouged her thumbnail into her leg as she meandered through the market, pretending to consider the goods on sale, and kept an eye out instead on who might be following her. No Xerxh mercenaries so far, but they could have been hanging back to observe. Jessalyn needed to focus. Normally the gouging trick worked, but then Trazzak moved behind her and all other thoughts fled. He couldn’t possibly have meant what he said about working on a team. This was just a short-term thing until they stole the technology and got the Alliance to leave them alone. He couldn’t possibly want anything long-term from her. It just wasn’t how things worked out in Jess’s world.

  Trazzak grunted and caught her arm, drawing her back and close to his side, and pointed at the stall right next to them, which sold all kinds of Xaravian items and foods. She should have been able to smell it from the other side of the market. She started to pull away but he pretended not to notice, and instead dragged her into the stall to look at the robes along the back wall.

  Jess gritted her teeth and attempted a smile for the proprietor, while Trazzak asked questions about fabric and weight and size and price. His banter with the owner at least gave her time to focus on the meeting ahead; she wondered if he did it on purpose, or just to irritate her. Or to touch her again. She shivered at the thought.

  She couldn’t afford to let Trazzak distract her so much. Jess could get him out of her system, maybe sleep with him once so he wouldn’t hold anymore mystery for her, and then she could get back to her work. He wouldn’t want her if he knew half the things she’d done, so it was better to sleep with him and then cut it off before Trazzak had a chance to break her heart. It would be better for everyone all around.

  Except when his fingers trailed across her back and sent tremors all through her, from her toes to the crown of her head, with just the barest touch — Jess didn’t know if once would be enough.

  So she pasted what she assumed was a Xaravian-worthy scowl on her face as she looked at him. “Yes?”

  Trazzak held up some robes, unaffected by her irritation, but the proprietor sighed and pressed his hands together near his chin. “It’s so nice to see a couple so in love.”

  Jess scowled more as Trazzak looked on the verge of laughing at her, and she gave the proprietor a dirty look. “He’s not quite enough warrior for me, but he’s trying.”

  The owner howled with laughter and even Trazzak cracked a smile, and Jess had to wonder at the ridiculous Xaravian sense of humor. Instead, she glanced at her watch and tilted her head at the door. “I’m going to keep looking. You can finish shopping.”

  She turned to go and Trazzak caught her elbow, pulling her up short. He handed the robes back to the owner and nodded. “We’ll be back shortly.”

  Then he led the way out of the stall, glancing up and down the row to check for Newton only knew what, and only when he determined it was clear did he let her leave the small Xaravian store. Jess fumed, no longer so enchanted with the rough pressure of his hand on her skin, and focused on the meeting ahead.

  Once more, Nathan waited in a small, out-of-the-way cafe. He spotted her and started to smile; then he spotted Trazzak, and got to his feet to run, no doubt. Jess didn’t break her stride or acknowledge the distrust on Nathan’s face, and instead jerked her thumb at Trazzak as she took a seat. “My bodyguard. He doesn’t understand Earther, and he doesn’t talk much. He’s here to watch my back.”

  And she reveled in the irritation that radiated from the Xaravian, since she’d just cut him out of most of the meeting.

  Nathan didn’t like it, but he went back to his seat. “I never knew you to want a meathead following you around.”

  “After the last time we met, a couple of bounty hunters tried to kill me. So extreme times call for extreme measures.” She glanced at Trazzak, who scanned the surroundings and pretended not to be listening. “Besides, he’s not entirely a meathead. He can carry heavy things. Open jars.”

  Nathan smirked, folding his arms over his chest, and gestured for the waiter to approach. It was an old-fashioned cafe, with actual aliens walking up to the table to take orders. Jess didn’t like it; she preferred the anonymity of robot waiters. But she got the impression that Nathan wanted to impress her, though she couldn’t guess why.

  Jess ordered a drink for herself and one for Trazzak, getting him something sour to match his disposition, and watched Nathan until the waiter departed. The information officer smiled and slid his hands across the table, reaching for hers. “I was so glad you called.”

  “This is business.” Jess removed her hands from the table, not about to play his games. Although it was fun to listen to Trazzak grinding his teeth every time Nathan opened his mouth. “This is my price to make your acquisition proposal happen.”

  She slid the paper across the table to him — she preferred some things old-fashioned — and waited for Nathan to read it. She listed immunity for all six of the female crewmembers, all of the Galaxos crew, and the ships involved in the conflict with the Argo. They got to keep the Argo and the other ships they’d taken, and Isla and her crew got to keep full pensions and benefits as if they’d been killed in the line of duty. The last part was the only one Jess figured was unreasonable — she wanted a personal meeting with the Minister, and the right to ask any questions she wanted.

  Jess had to know if the Minister plotted it all, if he’d been in on Witz’s bad be
havior. She wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, not knowing, and if the Ministry was involved in all the evil things others accused them of.... She had a lot to atone for. A lot of work ahead of her to make things right.

  Nathan’s expression didn’t change as he read and re-read the list, but he smiled when he looked up. “Come on, Barnes. You know this isn’t going to happen.”

  “That’s my price.” She gambled occasionally, but only with her work. Jess kept herself expressionless, willing Trazzak to remain uninterested. He didn’t know what she’d written down, and the last thing she needed was for him to break character and demand to see it. “That technology looks pretty solid. I’d hate to see what that could do to the Fleet if it gets out in the open.”

  And she waited.

  Nathan pondered, drumming his fingers on the table. Neither of them spoke as the waiter returned with their drinks, took payment from Nathan, and disappeared again. Jess could feel Trazzak getting restless behind her, waiting for the tension to break, but Jess would be damned if she spoke first.

  After what felt like an eternity, Nathan picked the paper back up to study the list. “I knew you’d ask for a lot, but I didn’t think it would be this much.”

  “It’s not that much more than what you offered last time.”

  “We didn’t plan to include the barbarians in the negotiations,” Nathan said, arching an eyebrow. “We can hardly offer immunity to a bunch of rebels, and ones who were willing to buy all of you from Witz.”

  Jess shrugged. “They did what they thought was right, after Witz offered us up in trade. After he offered food and fuel.”

  “Ouch.” Nathan chuckled, making a note on the paper. “That’s got to be a hit to the ego.”

  “Good thing I don’t measure my worth by how much someone will pay for me.” Jess didn’t know what she’d ever seen in Nathan. Every word out of his mouth made her skin crawl and she had the worst time not reaching over the table to strangle him.

  Nathan just smiled, completely unperturbed with her response, and instead folded the paper with deliberate care. “I’ll take it back to the Minister and see whether I can get it approved. If you want this much, though, the mission just changed.”

  Jess leaned back in her chair, and gestured for him to keep going. They could keep going round and round with escalating requests and demands, and eventually she’d have to defeat the rebellion all by herself. She’d played these games before, though, and knew where all the off-ramps were. She was still in control. Nathan just didn’t know it yet.

  The information officer slid another chip to her, similar to the first. “We’ll need the actual prototype in order to fulfill your requests. I can’t guarantee that the Minister will approve everything, but your odds improve a great deal if you get us the machine itself.”

  “That sounds impossible.” Jess checked her watch again, not liking how long they’d stayed in the cafe. She hoped Trazzak actually had her back, otherwise it would be the shortest mission she ever undertook.

  “Nothing is impossible for you, Jessie bear,” he said, and managed to squeeze her hand before she pulled away. Nathan winked and pushed to his feet. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Jess didn’t watch as he walked away, whistling, and instead sipped her drink. Her heart pounded against her ribs, anticipating some kind of parting shot or a knife in the back, but she couldn’t let Nathan see her nervous. After an eternity of playing it cool, Trazzak leaned forward to murmur, “He’s gone.”

  “Great.” Jess pushed to her feet and immediately swayed as it felt like the station tilted, and she almost fell as her hand missed the table.

  Trazzak grabbed her around the waist and steadied her, frowning as he looked down at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Her whole body shook, though, and for a second, she feared the drink had been poisoned. But the clammy sweat that broke out all over her, and the uneven beating of her heart, reminded her more of exhaustion than anything else. She’d focused too hard in the conversation with Nathan, and as she leaned against Trazzak, it became clear she’d pushed past her limits for the day. Damn that Xerxh bounty hunter and his fucking poison knife. “Just got dizzy for a second. Let’s go.”

  Trazzak snorted and didn’t budge, holding her up with one arm as if she weighed nothing at all. “Nice try. You’re trembling. We’re going back to the ship and you’re going into sick bay.”

  “We have to get the robes,” Jess said. She hated the constant caretaking. Mostly. “And we don’t have any time to waste.”

  He leaned down until his lips brushed her ear, and his arm tightened around her back. “Do I need to start giving orders again? Because I will. And I’ll carry you out of here if I have to.”

  Jess shivered, closing her eyes as the soft threat thrilled over her nerves. Damn the Xaravian and his quiet confidence. She took a deep breath and hoped her arms and legs cooperated as she pulled away. “We still have to get the robes.”

  “We will,” he said. “Quickly. And then it’s straight back to the ship. Understood?”

  “You keep saying that like I’m going to agree with you,” she said. Jess made the mistake of looking up, and she froze, caught in his gaze. She tried to clear her throat and remember where her legs connected to her body. “And you’re wasting time.”

  Trazzak’s eyes flashed brighter silver, and she bit her lip as blue swirled through a few of his scales. He glanced around, then shrugged. “Then we have to move faster.”

  “That’s what I’ve been —”

  Jess yelped as he abruptly picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, striding back into the market like some kind of conquering hero. She fumed, beating on his back with her fists, but Trazzak ignored her as he headed back to the Xaravian store. Her stomach turned over at being upside down and she debated getting sick all down his back. It would serve him right for manhandling her like that.

  Trazzak

  It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from launching across the table and killing the bastard who kept trying to touch Jessalyn. She clearly didn’t welcome those advances, and he was damned if he was going to let some creepy asshole make her feel uncomfortable. And when the guy insisted they had to do more dangerous work to get a guarantee of whatever demands Jessalyn made, Trazzak gripped the hilt of his boot knife just in case. It was bad enough Jessalyn considered going to a hostile planet to steal some coveted and dangerous technology, but adding more for her to do increased the risk too much.

  But he kept his mouth shut, mostly because of Jessalyn’s ridiculous story that he was her bodyguard, but partly because he would have cursed the man and created a blood feud that would have to be formally terminated with the man’s death. So he chewed the inside of his mouth ragged to stay silent. That mission could wait for another time.

  She grew pale as she argued with him, a greenish cast to her features, and when she stood up, Jessalyn nearly fell. Trazzak’s first instinct was to carry her back to the ship immediately. He could return to the market and pick up a dozen sets of robes so she wouldn’t have to be on her feet a second longer. But the stubborn Earther insisted on going to the store herself. He couldn’t figure out why she refused to accept help or believe she was part of a team, which just made things more difficult than they needed to be.

  She still didn’t look steady enough to walk to the store, so he picked her up before she could protest. And just to reinforce the fact that he gave the orders, he tossed her over his shoulder and strode back to the Xaravian store. She grumbled and hit him, and Trazzak braced for one of those tiny knives she carried to stick in his ass. But Jessalyn only gurgled and threatened to throw up on him. He didn’t mind. That’s why robes had layers.

  The owner of the robe store practically lit up with delight to see them return, and immediately fetched a chair for Jessalyn when Trazzak muttered about his mate being tired. It was easier than trying to explain who she actually was — since Trazzak didn’t know how to define that relat
ionship himself. And he hoped she didn’t speak enough Middle Xarav to understand what he said. She’d stab him for sure if she knew, probably with a much larger knife than the one she hid in her sleeve.

  He put her in the chair and handed her a small flask he always carried. “Take a sip. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Jessalyn glared at him, but her hand shook as she held the flask, so he knew she still didn’t feel well. A bit of liquor would give her the strength to make it back to the ship, as long as they didn’t dally while selecting robes.

  The proprietor offered half a dozen sets of female robes, from the utilitarian to the formal — most the dusty gray that blended in so well on Xarav, but Trazzak wanted something nicer for her. Something special. As Jessalyn coughed and spluttered from the liquor, he grumbled to the store owner to put aside two sets of the gray robes. He didn’t want to forget Maisy, though he wasn’t as concerned with how hers would look.

  Trazzak took the flask back before Jessalyn drank too much and knocked herself into a coma, and flipped through the robes himself. He kept an eye on her, not liking the pallor in her skin, and asked the proprietor to find her water and something to eat while he looked for a suitable outfit. The man hustled off, closing the curtains to the shop so no one would disturb them.

  He pulled down a few more sets, frowning at a gray-blue robe that might look nice with her eyes.

  Jessalyn laughed under her breath, mostly a sigh. “What’s wrong with you? Just grab a few sets and let’s go.”

  “The quality matters,” he said. It was mostly the truth. “It will change how people see you. These here, with the coarse fabric, are for lower-class warriors. You won’t get the respect you deserve if you wear these.”

  She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and dropped her voice. “We’re supposed to be pirates, Trazzak. Low class isn’t a bad thing.”

 

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