Maverick

by Cheryl Brooks

  Holy Hektat.

  He had every symptom of sexual arousal except the one that had been triggered by her scent only moments before. He’d wanted to escape from it then. Not anymore. He wanted to revel in her scent and its stimulating effects. Then he wanted to do everything he’d ever heard of to bring a woman pleasure, knowing his own would follow. He was well and truly smitten.

  And that realization didn’t bother him one tiny bit.

  Now all he had to do was find some time to be alone with her. He’d resented his Statzeelian brother for further delaying the return trip to Rhylos and Celeste. He didn’t mind the delay anymore. The longer he could keep Althea aboard his ship, the more time he would have to pursue her.

  When it came to enticing Zetithian females, pursue was definitely the right word. They responded well to the chase, acting like elusive prey until finally reaching the tipping point when they would turn and pounce on the man hunting them.

  Smiling, he leaned forward, propping his elbow on the console and resting his cheek in his palm while he drank in the sight of her. He didn’t give a damn if he looked like a sappy, romantic fool. Now that his goal and purpose had finally been revealed, the mating ritual could take its sweet time to unfold. If he’d smelled her desire after Keplok came aboard, he might’ve wondered which of them was triggering that response. But since Brak was currently the only other male onboard—and he seriously doubted she would have the hots for a bug—that particular scent proved his chances of winning her were excellent.

  Oh, yeah… This is going to be good.

  * * *

  Althea didn’t even have to turn around to know Larry was still nearby, whether she could smell him or not. His presence seemed to have imprinted on her, almost as though he were an extension of herself. This realization gave her very little joy, because while she might get over him eventually, the likelihood of that ever happening was pretty damn small.

  She took her time with the landing, mentally calculating the best angle for reentry, even though the helm’s computer had already provided her with a perfectly good approach vector. She needed to do something—anything—to take her mind off her old pal Larry. Especially after the look she’d just given him. He’d probably figured everything out by now and was maintaining a safe distance to avoid being bitten.

  Now I know how Brak feels.

  She should never have blabbed about him to Larry, much less admitted to doing it. Her only consolation was that she hadn’t shared her own feelings with either of them. However, the way Larry had frowned and retreated to the science station told the tale pretty clearly. There was nothing wrong with his nose; one whiff of her desire had him running in the opposite direction.

  Going through the landing sequence was second nature to her, and after setting the Stooge gently on the sand, she checked the hull temperature. Generally speaking, ships cooled down pretty quickly once they passed through the outer layers of the atmosphere and flew in normal air long enough to find a good landing spot. However, the ship’s hull temperature still read forty-six degrees Celsius.

  “Must really be hot out there,” she muttered.

  “Sorry. Forgot to mention that,” Larry said. “The normal daytime temperatures are usually in the forties and fifties. Gets pretty cold at night, though.”

  She could see the other ship, which, fortunately, wasn’t too far away. However, as luck would have it, the planet’s sun was directly overhead, suggesting that darkness was several hours off. She doubted Keplok would sit still for that long. “What else didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged. “That’s about it, except for the sandstorms. The scanners didn’t detect anything brewing on the way down, so I believe we’re good in that respect.”

  She eyed the baking sand with misgiving. Even in the Baradan jungle, which could be pretty steamy, she’d never known the temperature to get that high. “Okaaay. Don’t suppose you have a speeder or an umbrella?”

  “Both, actually. You know Mom. She wouldn’t let me fly off in my own ship without preparing for every eventuality. I even have a boat.”

  “Yeah. I know your mom,” she drawled. “And the boat doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  Chapter 13

  “You took long enough getting here. We barely have any reserve power left,” were the first words out of Keplok’s mouth when Althea and Larry hopped out of the speeder, giving Althea an instant dislike of him.

  “I can’t alter time or fold space,” Larry said with a shrug, which, in Althea’s opinion, was far too polite a response. For someone who was being rescued, Keplok was, as Brak had so succinctly phrased it, a bit of a dick.

  Her first impression of the Statzeelian was that he needed a nose job—as in giving him one that wasn’t flat against his face—followed closely by a vigorous attitude adjustment with the back of her hand.

  Dartula was far more gracious. “Thank you so much for coming, Larsan. I don’t know who else we could’ve called.”

  “Sending out a general distress signal is the usual method,” Althea said. “Or were you afraid whoever’s on your tail would hear it and come after you?”

  Keplok sneered. “No one is on our tail. We took great care to avoid being followed.”

  Which meant they were definitely on some sort of clandestine mission. “So what are you—gunrunners? Or are you transporting illegal drugs?”

  For a brief moment, Althea suspected Keplok was going to give her an attitude adjustment, only he was planning to use his fist. The waves of irritation flowing from him proved he was at least considering that option.

  He lifted his chin and peered at her down his virtually nonexistent nose. “We are on a rescue mission, I’ll have you know.”

  Dartula put a hand on her companion’s arm to silence him, which appeared to have the desired effect. Althea wasn’t getting any romance vibes from either of them, but Dartula’s control suggested there might be something there. “We’re looking for something that was stolen from Statzeel. Something very important to our society.”

  “And what would that be?” Althea asked. “Or is telling us against the laws of being rescued by your brother and sister?”

  “Half brother and half sister,” Keplok corrected. “Neither of us is tainted with any Terran blood.”

  “Tainted?” Althea braced her fisted hands on her hips. “You know, for half a credit, I’d make that flat nose of yours swell up like a Matuphian toad.” Actually, she would’ve done it for far less.

  Larry stepped between them. “Take it easy, you two. Whatever you’re up to doesn’t matter at the moment. What does matter is that giant worm headed this way.”

  Althea spun around and bit back a scream as she spotted the huge, segmented worm crawling toward them at a frightening speed. She’d seen plenty of strange creatures in a lifetime of planet-hopping, but this one took the prize for ugly and scary, which was saying quite a lot. “What in the name of Hektat is that?”

  “Dunno,” said Larry. “But it looks a lot like those snow suckers they have on Nerik. Only bigger, meaner, and with more teeth.”

  Saying that these critters had more teeth was a slight exaggeration. Althea knew from firsthand experience that snow suckers didn’t have any teeth at all, whereas these beasts had teeth the size of broadswords.

  “We have encountered them before,” Dartula said. “Which is why we had to stay on the ship.”

  Keplok eyed the worm with distaste but little or no fear, merely folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back against his ship’s hull. “Without them, we could’ve planted crops and started a colony in the time it took you to get here.”

  Dartula grabbed his arm and gave it a yank. “Will you please shut up before you drive us all crazy? Or get us killed?” With a frustrated snarl, she spun toward Althea. “See what we have to put up with on Statzeel? Honest to God, when this is over, I’m ditching him and
going to Earth or someplace where the men aren’t all pompous pricks.”

  Hmm… Maybe they aren’t so lover-like after all…

  Then again, plenty of lovers started off hating one another. That is, if you could trust what romance writers would have you believe. For her money, starting off with a guy you actually liked was more likely to pave the way to a lasting romance. She sure as hell didn’t want to bite Keplok. Ever.

  Dartula was exhibiting the normal behaviors of a Statzeelian female in that she could control a male. However, she wasn’t using any sexual means to do so, which seemed odd. Perhaps the Zetithian bloodline made it unnecessary.

  “Do those worms attack ships or just people?” Larry asked, proving that he, for one, had his priorities in order.

  “I have no idea,” Keplok replied. “We should probably go inside.”

  “Your ship first,” Larry said. “I want to salvage what I can of your comsystem. Providing you’re going to abandon the ship.”

  “That’s the plan,” Dartula said before her companion could respond. “If you can take us to Palorka, we’ll have no further need of it.”

  Somehow, Althea thought it strange that they were all going to the same wretched planet. Nor did she believe it was a coincidence.

  Had Larry told them his plans? Rhylos, maybe. But Palorka? Larry hadn’t received the call to fix that comsystem until after they’d left Barada Seven. She cleared her throat. “That’s where you’re headed? Palorka?”

  “Yes,” Dartula replied. “After that, you can drop us off on Rhylos. We can get transport back to Statzeel from there.”

  Dartula, at least, seemed reasonable, and she was as golden-haired as their mutual father. Having taken after her mother, Althea’s coloring was completely different. The Statzeelian woman appeared to have also inherited her father’s even temperament, whereas Althea took after her rather sharp-tongued mother.

  Just when a little diplomacy would’ve been a nice touch.

  Larry could handle the sensible stuff. He was more like his father, which Keplok most definitely was not, aside from his long, curly black hair. Cat was easygoing with a wicked sense of humor. Keplok didn’t appear to understand either concept.

  “How is it you know we’re on our way to Palorka?” Althea asked.

  Dartula aimed a questioning glance at Larry. “Didn’t you tell us you were going there?”

  Larry shook his head. “Sure didn’t.”

  “Interesting coincidence, don’t you think?” Althea didn’t need to be an empath to know that her half sister wasn’t telling the truth. Her shuffling feet and averted eyes told the tale quite plainly. “Mind telling us the real story?”

  “Um, guys, that worm is getting really close.” Dartula might’ve been trying to change the subject, but she was absolutely right about the worm. Not only was it closing in on them, it was also belching noxious fumes from its wide-open, teeth-studded maw.

  Althea tapped her chin. “You know, there’s something familiar about that thing, and not because of the snow suckers. More like I read about it in a book or saw the movie.”

  “You mean the sandworms from Dune?” Larry suggested.

  “That’s it!” Althea exclaimed. “Figure they can make the spice?”

  “Maybe so, which might explain why this is a forbidden planet.”

  “Will you two stop talking nonsense and get aboard the ship?” Keplok might’ve been nonchalant to the point of cockiness only moments before, but he was clearly rattled now.

  Larry, however, was as cool as ever. “Not a bad idea.” He waved toward the open hatch. “Ladies first.”

  Dartula hurried on ahead, whereas Althea stopped a meter short of the gangplank. “Wait a minute. Those sandworms in Dune… They were big enough to swallow a ship whole.”

  “These aren’t that big,” Dartula said. “Although your speeder might be at risk.”

  “I am not letting that monster get my speeder,” Larry declared. “I’ll fly it back to the Stooge if I have to.”

  Althea frowned. “Why would it swallow a chunk of metal anyway? Unless it’s an inorganic life-form.”

  “We haven’t had the chance to study them in detail,” Keplok snarled. “But if you’d care to conduct an experiment, be my guest.”

  Larry’s eyes narrowed. “You can just get back on your ship, and don’t let the hatch hit you where the good gods split you.”

  “What?”

  Despite the gravity of the situation, the Statzeelian man’s baffled expression had Althea giggling. “He means don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way in.”

  “I’d have thought he would prefer that it did.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” Althea said before seeing the utter futility of trying to explain any further. “Never mind. Just get on the ship.”

  “Better yet, everybody get in the speeder,” Larry said. “We’ll come back for anything we can salvage after that worm goes back to wherever it came from.”

  For once, Keplok didn’t argue. They’d barely gotten inside the vehicle when Larry lowered the canopy and took off at top speed.

  Althea looked back over her shoulder just in time to see the giant worm open its silver-toothed mouth and bite the Statzeelian ship neatly in half. “I thought you said it wouldn’t eat a ship.”

  “It hasn’t tried so far.” Judging from her dubious tone, Dartula now questioned the wisdom of having remained aboard their damaged vessel, no matter how hot it was outside.

  Larry chuckled. “Must’ve been waiting for the nasty organic life-forms to leave before chowing down on such a tasty mix of inorganic compounds.”

  “So we’re safe from it, but the ship isn’t?”

  “Something like that,” Larry replied. “Kinda makes me wish I’d left someone on the Stooge aside from Brak. Those worms might not consider a Scorillian to be much of a deterrent. Might even like the metallic flavor of their shiny wings.”

  After stifling yet another giggle, Althea glanced at Dartula, who struck her as the most reliable and least obnoxious source of information. “Ever see more than one of them at a time?”

  She shook her head. “And if you don’t mind, I’d rather not stay here until another one arrives.”

  “That’s the plan,” Larry said. He tapped the control panel. “Hey, Friday. Would you please open the main hangar bay?”

  “Certainly,” the computer said. A moment later, she announced, “The hangar bay door is now open.”

  “Great! We’ll be inside in a few seconds. I’d appreciate it if you’d ask Brak to start the launch sequence. We need to lift off as soon as we’re inside and the door’s closed.”

  “I will comply.”

  Althea sighed. Larry was even polite to the computer when under duress. Keplok, however, deserved every snide remark and snappy comeback he got. In her opinion, the Statzeelians should’ve waited another generation or two before allowing any male offspring to be born. Perhaps Keplok was an experiment. If so, it was one that had essentially failed, unless he had heretofore unexpressed attributes like a really big dick or snard that packed an extra orgasmic punch—although Althea didn’t think that was what the breeding program the Statzeelian women had been working on for generations was supposed to produce.

  Then again, he only appeared to have a smart mouth. Statzeelian men were reputed to be belligerent and violent.

  Perhaps he was an improvement after all.

  Nah. Not much.

  A quick glance behind her proved the worm was too busy devouring the other ship to waste time coming after the speeder. Nevertheless, the wide-open hangar bay was a welcome sight.

  Only then did she recall Larry’s proposed means of extorting the truth from their newfound siblings. Clearly, leaving them behind wasn’t in the cards.

  He’s such a softie.

  Softhearted, y
et strong and infinitely sexy. With Keplok as a perfect example of the more annoying aspects of masculinity, Dartula was sure to fall for Larry. What woman in her right mind could help herself? Althea didn’t think she was prejudiced in his favor, either. He really was the perfect man. Provided that the woman in question didn’t object to continuous, effortless, mind-blowing orgasms and preferred a man who was easygoing and polite rather than a tightly wound asshole like Keplok. Then again, there was no accounting for taste.

  Larry hadn’t seemed to be too taken with Dartula, which was fortunate. Unlike that curvy blond bombshell—

  “You okay, Al?”

  She blinked as an elbow nudge from the man in question disrupted her thoughts. “Um, sure. Why do you ask?”

  “You were growling.”

  “Really? I must’ve been angrier at that worm than I thought.”

  He popped the canopy, then pushed the button to open the side doors. “Not half as miffed as I am. I really wanted to salvage that comsystem.”

  “I would’ve preferred that we’d salvaged my clothes.” Dartula sounded rather petulant, which Althea considered to be a mark in her favor—or rather her disfavor. If all she thought about were her clothes, she wouldn’t be much of a sidekick for Larry. No. Not a good choice at all. Not if she was as vain as that. Rhylos was the best place for her. She’d probably find her perfect match before they even left the spaceport. Althea had nothing to worry about from that quarter. She could hardly wait to hear Keplok’s take on the subject.

  He didn’t disappoint. That is, if a disgusted snort constituted an opinion. Surely he had more to say than that. Instead, he merely climbed out of the speeder with a weary wag of his head. Then he did the arm-folding thing again and glared at Dartula.

  “What you ought to be wishing for are our credits and identchips.”

  The light emanating from Dartula’s pupils should’ve set him on fire. “You mean you don’t have them?”

  “I have mine,” he replied with a condescending smile. “Not too sure about yours.”