He grinned at the mirror. “My tiger. She called you her tiger. Oh, yeah, fftt-fftt sha kee, brother. You've got it.”
He danced over to the bagbot and flicked it on. “Open. Set up.”
The little bot clicked, a stabilizer shot out at the base, and the top unfolded to its full height. The front panels separated and retracted, creating a makeshift closet with drawers. He chose a black turtleneck sweater and pants, changed, and combed his fingers through his hair. Satisfied with his appearance, he dropped onto the bed to rest.
Eyes closed, one ankle crossed over the other, he folded his arms across his chest. Thirty seconds later, his eyes opened. Fingers drummed. A foot tapped.
What was I thinking, asking her to wait for me? He tossed himself off the bed and paced the three steps it took to cross the room. I can't make a commitment. My master will kill me.
“Stop.” He sliced the air with his hands. “Stop. Deep breath. Deep breath, Senth. Calm down.” Fingers pressed against his temples, he closed his eyes to shut out distractions and released a long, cleansing breath. That's right, Senth. Be the lock. Okay, in, out, in, out. Remember your union training. Relax.
He clenched his fists until he was shaking.
“Oh, ffffftt! This will never work!”
Three steps forward. Pivot. Three steps back.
I can't get involved with her now.
Pivot. Three steps. Stop.
And what about Khyff?
Pivot. Three steps. Stop.
How could you forget about your own brother?
Pivot. Three steps. Stop.
I can't do anything on Shackle for five days, and I'm going home tomorrow.
Pivot. Three steps. He shook his fists.
It's only been three ffffftting days and I have to go home.
Senth snarled deep in his chest, a tiger's lament.
Idiot! What were you thinking? He faced the mirror. Why'd you have to ask her to wait? What is it she's supposed to wait for? A slave? You? He set both hands on the mirror and stared at his eyes. A half-human thief? Forget about waiting two years, kkkhh face. What are you going to do when she gets back here—tonight?
With a groan, he thunked his head against the glass.
* * * *
All People's Liberation Army Ship Vandal
Captain's Ready Room
The aide to Colonel Somnoll O'Venna saw NarrAy to his door, opened it without knocking, and announced her in a whisper. She set a finger over her lips when she turned back and gestured NarrAy inside.
O'Venna was slight of build, and had a gentle face and shaggy blond hair. Destoiya ranked him a desperado and the number one terrorist threat to the empire.
Right now, the desperado sat behind a desk piled with documents, note readers, and vidchips. He held a sleeping child on his lap, her head cradled against his shoulder. Wrapping the girl in his arms, he gestured to NarrAy to close the door.
She shut it quietly and snapped him a salute. “Sir.” She kept her voice low. “Captain Jorlan reporting.”
“At ease, Captain.” The Chiasmii officer leaned across the sleeping girl and extended his hand. The APLA disregarded most Better laws, especially the one about not shaking hands. “Glad to have you with us. Please, sit down.”
The Sleeper had gained his moniker because of his own first name, Somnoll, and his reputation for always catching the Conqueror unawares.
When he swiveled his chair a bit and turned out a bright light over his shoulder, NarrAy caught a glimpse of a braid down his back, woven with a bright red ribbon. One of the oddities of having Androgs in the military was having different dress codes on different days for the same person, but NarrAy felt fairly certain none of the allowances included ribbon.
O'Venna drew the blanket closer to the girl and tucked it around her.
NarrAy shook off the urge to question him about the child and decided on a different tack.
“Er, excuse me, Colonel, if I may, is 'sir' appropriate when addressing you? I don't wish to offend.”
“No offense taken, Captain. Human military tradition provides that male and female officers are addressed as sir when on duty. Chiasmii never joined the military until recently, so it's never been an issue until now. But thank you for not assuming.”
“You're welcome, sir.”
“Never served with a Chiasma before, I take it?”
“No, sir. It's never been my privilege.”
“Nor mine to work with a Better, until now. You've been debriefed, have you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The girl whimpered and stirred in her sleep, and O'Venna cooed assurances, adjusting the blanket. She had Kin ears placed on the side like a human's. They almost disappeared from sight in her tangle of blonde hair.
A HalfKin like Senth. NarrAy's heart leaped. Better Laws forbid her to bear children, and a HalfKin could never sire one. What would one of theirs have looked like?
It startled her that she'd actually had thoughts of bearing children in connection with Senth. Definitely a first.
“Was the item recovered?” the Sleeper asked.
“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Keheyl took delivery.”
“Excellent! Now, a few things you need to know. The first is about Keheyl. Do you realize who he is?”
“He was promised to Captain Ruffhaus Fasra, I believe, Destoiya's top Praetorian. I heard talk on the way up here she'd…”
A swiftly upheld hand stopped her. “Been relieved of duty and arrested?”
NarrAy nodded.
“More than true. Keheyl has been Ruff's lover since he was a boy. In the short time you've been on this mission, the entire structure of the Praetorians has crumbled.”
NarrAy moved to the edge of her seat. “What happened?”
“To phrase it politely, the Conqueror demanded Ruffhaus Fasra's brother, Rocha, join her stable and he refused. When Destoiya tried to force the issue, Ruffhaus stepped in to defend her brother. Before it was over, the Conqueror had arrested Ruffhaus and sent Praetorians to Rocha's house to fetch him. They raped and killed his human wife, killed him, and set fire to their house.”
NarrAy set a hand over her heart.
O'Venna nodded toward the child in his arms. “This is their daughter, Talyn.” He gestured NarrAy closer and pointed to the floor behind his desk.
She stood and leaned over to peer down, and gasped. A younger child lay curled on a pallet at his feet, sound asleep.
“Who is this?”
The Sleeper met her eyes. “Onys is the only Chiasma test subject who survived the Sabbath Experiment.”
Stark anxiety roiled NarrAy's stomach. She sank back down into the chair.
The Sabbath Experiment.
A code name for research that exploited Chiasmii gender phases by intrafertilizing individuals with their own sperm and egg. It created genetically balanced fetuses, which were then altered, producing what was reputedly a step beyond Betters.
Arson started by protesters resulted in a catastrophic loss of life, the destruction of countless viable embryos, and led directly to the cessation of all genetic experiments in the Empire. And the outlawing of Betters.
“I didn't know someone survived the Sabbath Experiment, sir.”
“No one survived, Captain Jorlan.” He looked pointedly at her.
Ah. She nodded. “My mistake.”
“Stealth and Ruffhaus were assigned there. Stealth rescued O's tavi—his mother—who died shortly after reaching Felidae. I barely delivered O from the womb in time to save him.”
“You delivered him?”
“No choice. His mother had died with him still in the womb. I had to do something fast.”
“Is he like me? Genetically enhanced?”
“Because he's been hidden, he's never been properly evaluated. If Destoiya had known he survived … I don't have to tell you what his life would have been like.”
Tested, prodded, trained, judged, assessed. Pushed to exceed yesterday's accomplishments. Pressed to perform
longer, harder, faster.
Better.
“No, sir, you don't. I understand completely.”
“I thought you might. We hid him from Destoiya by keeping him with Ruff's family. My change in political convictions separated us, but I'd been Ruff and Stealth's friend for years before that. Now, they've seen I was right about Destoiya.”
“So, these two little ones are in your care?”
“O was reared with Talyn, so they're both homeless. I've known these children most of their lives. Where else would they go?”
“I'm surprised to see an officer of your rank with little ones literally underfoot.” She smiled.
“A Chiasma can father one child and give birth to the next, Captain, so caring for children is part of who we are. All our workplaces are geared around their care first, then business. My office will need some refitting, it seems.” He looked around.
“Quite a challenge.”
He nodded, fondly gazing at the child on the pallet. “An incredible challenge. O thinks like a HalfKin, not a Chiasma. I'm not sure what to do with him. He doesn't know how to use telepathy or any of his empathic senses. And Talyn…” He sighed and leaned back in the chair, then grinned widely. “She's been aboard less than one day and she's already convinced a fighter pilot to take her up backseat and teach her to fly against the empire. I had to discipline him, but I have a feeling it won't help. The crew's adopted her as their own.”
NarrAy had to laugh. “She's a leader then.”
“That she is! Like her aunt. Ruffhaus will join us soon. Stealth and the Praetorians now on our side hope to free her within a day or so. Destoiya will spit venom when she finds out.”
“You expect Ruffhaus to join the resistance?”
“Ruff has no reason to trust Destoiya, and every reason to hate her. She can win us our freedom.”
“You have a lot of faith in her.”
“That is a massive understatement. I'm staking my life on her. More than that, I'm staking the future of the empire.” He tucked the blanket under Talyn's chin. “I believe once Ruff's on our side, she'll become the leader of the rebellion. Not me. To that end, Captain, once your mission is completed…” He paused. “Which will be when?” He waited.
“I'll return Sen—Mr. Antonello to Kelthia and be back within a day, sir.”
“Good. When you return, you'll be Ruff's aide. Show her the ropes. That's a lateral move for you, but it will work into a hefty promotion.”
“Thank you, sir. I'm honored.”
“Congratulations on a job well done, Captain. I've taken the liberty of assigning your aides elsewhere for a few days. I need their expertise on a private security matter. When they return, they'll report to you. I'll expect you to hire a staff and train them.”
Talyn twitched and cried out in her sleep. O'Venna rocked her in his arms, crooning softly.
“Nightmares.” He glanced up. “Small wonder. Thank you, Captain. That will be all.”
“Yes, sir.” Smiling, NarrAy rose and shook the Sleeper's hand again, clasping her other one around his. “Thank you, sir. I wish you well with the children.” She stepped back and saluted. At the door, she paused and turned back.
O'Venna was smoothing one of Talyn's curls.
“Sir?”
He looked up.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Of course.”
“I couldn't help but notice your ribbon.”
With a smile, the Sleeper reached back and pulled the long blond braid over his shoulder.
“This ribbon is for the Conqueror, Captain Jorlan. She's made a point of saying I'm the primary target in her war against domestic terrorists, which is what she calls anyone who resists her power. I've answered that tyranny cannot and will not rule any person free at heart.
“So, this…” he tossed the beribboned braid over his back, “—is to make sure Destoiya can spot me in a crowd.”
* * * *
Imperial Armada Ship Vandal
Officer's Quarters
NarrAy unlocked her cabin and entered.
“Senth?”
A darkened, empty room greeted her. She set a hand over her chest. Tight. Hard to breathe for a moment. She shook off the feeling.
Oh, well. Guess Senth went for chow.
She headed back into the corridor.
“Warning. Weight limit exceeded.”
NarrAy stopped. The gender-neutral robotic voice sounded as if it had come from inside her cabin.
NarrAy poked her head back inside. The tightness in her chest increased.
“Senth?”
His bagbot had been activated, its lights blinking. She entered the room and shut the door behind her.
“Lights on, full.”
Ambient lighting went to bright.
“Warning,” the bagbot announced again. “Weight limit exceeded. Please remove items until optimum weight condition achieved.”
NarrAy approached the bagbot. “What the…” It swayed like a drunkard.
“Mmmph!”
“Senth!” Grabbing the retractable doors, NarrAy forced them apart.
Senth fell out of the bot and collapsed into her arms, gasping for breath.
She helped him to the bed.
“Who did this to you? What happened?”
“No.” He fanned his face. “Hot.”
“I'm calling security.”
“No!” He clutched her arm. “NarrAy. Sorry.” He took shallow breaths. “My fault.”
“What happened?” She picked up a booklet on the desk and used it to fan him. “Are you all right?”
He grunted and turned on his side, doubled over.
“I'm calling sick bay. You…”
“No! NarrAy.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “My fault. I was trying … test. To see if—if…” His hand tightened on her arm as he looked away from her. “So stupid.”
“I don't understand, Senth. What happened?”
“I was bored, so I…” He pushed his face against the bed, avoiding her gaze. “I break into bagbots all the time. I thought I'd try breaking out of one.”
“You did what!” She sank to the floor beside the bed. They were at eye level.
“Once I got the doors closed, the bot kept trying to compact itself.”
“Senth! You could've suffocated.”
“I break into them all the time, just for fun. I figured getting out would be easy.”
All at once she glimpsed the future she'd have with Senth if she pursued him. NarrAy bit down on the anger so quick to rush heat to her face. Her own wild missions paled compared to the thought of a life full of stunts like this one. Finding him locked inside some bagbot or cabinet or safe. Having him risk his freedom for the sake of a few rare coins, or an old locket like the one he'd stolen for her. Thievery commonplace in her life?
Her parents would never, ever approve.
Which was why she had to give that future a chance.
“So I'm sure I understand, tell me again. You did that for fun?”
He nodded, peeking at her through his lashes like a little boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
“And was it?”
“Well, yes, until I got overheated in there and it ignored my command to open and kept telling me I was over its weight limit.” He breathed a long sigh. “I thought you'd never get here.”
Her heart stuttered as pheromones crested in a swift tide of elation. Like the prelude to an orgasm. Chocolate and silk and whipped cream all rolled into one. All over her body at the same time.
No man had ever made her feel like this before having sex.
NarrAy set her chin on the edge of the bed, her nose next to his. “Senth, what am I going to do with you?”
“My master says the same thing.”
His shy smile made her crest again.
Oh, god. Two crests and I haven't even kissed him.
She arched against the hot spasms of pleasure making her quiver inside.
&nb
sp; “Senth.” She leaned over and took his mouth in the way she wanted him to take her. A long, drugging kiss, heady with lust.
He turned onto his back as she climbed onto the bed and over him, both of them fully dressed. She didn't care. She had to have her mouth on his.
“NarrAy, I…”
“Shh…” She placed light kisses all around his mouth. “It's okay. Please, Senth. Hold me. Let me kiss you.”
She fisted both hands in his hair and held him in place while her mouth ravaged him. She fed on the sweetness of his mouth. Licked his chin, his jaw. She scraped her tongue over his fangs, flicked the tip of it against them.
He licked her lips. When he pushed his tongue against the roof of her mouth, it scratched her. She wanted that rough cat tongue on her nipples.
“Tiger. Tiger! I'm on fire.”
She wanted his cat tongue spreading her open, licking her clit until she screamed.
Knees on either side of his hips, she rubbed herself side to side over his body.
“Hold me, Tiger. Hold me hard.”
His hands went to her waist. Tugged her down.
The third wave hit. She threw back her head.
“Senth. Oh, god. My tiger.” No man had ever made her this hot this fast.
She bent down for more of his lips, almost bruising them in her rush to taste him.
“Palm here.” NarrAy guided his hand between her legs. Her clit throbbed and burned. Her pants were soaked. “Oh, god, yes. There, Senth. Hard.”
She rubbed against him like she was in heat. She yanked up his sweater, bared his chest, and splayed one hand across his smooth skin. Her palm brushed across a rigid nipple.
You're reacting. Good. I'll get you past this Shackle yet.
A vibration started in his chest. Oh, god…
Senth was purring.
An orgasm shuddered through her. She cried out hoarsely, rocking atop his hand side to side in a frenzy of lust.
Shivering, gasping for air, she draped herself over him in contentment, repeating his name in hushed whispers.
He drew her head down against his chest, shushing her, bringing her fingers to his mouth for kisses.
“NarrAy.”
She lifted her head and brushed away tears. “Senth, you truly are my tiger.”
At the Mercy of Her Pleasure Page 9