Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings)

by Tracy St. John

  * * * *

  Krijero’s heart hammered as he followed Gelan to the interrogation section of the precinct. He had no doubt what was about to happen would be a debacle. There was simply no way he was going to do anything but embarrass himself interviewing Latwik. He tried to distract himself by concentrating on the slight arousal scent coming from Gelan.

  It turned out to not be such a good idea, because carnal warmth slipped deliciously into his pricks. Krijero knew full well Gelan’s excitement had to do with what might be a pivotal arrest. It had nothing at all to do with the Imdiko, but he responded to it anyway. Gelan was big, Gelan was bad, Gelan was a stunning specimen of a male. But he didn’t like Krijero. A blessing, seeing as how the psych did not let himself get entangled with Dramoks. Reminding himself of all that, Krijero calmed his own momentary erotic yearnings. It would be damned embarrassing if Gelan thought he had the slightest bit of interest.

  Over his shoulder, the investigator said, “Come in this room, Krijero. I’ll let you have a look at what’s happening before you go in with Latwik.”

  Krijero followed Gelan through a door. The room was small, with a kind of tabletop running along one wall. A bank of computers lined up all across the surface. Other than that, the room had nothing else of note.

  Two other men waited inside the room, both Dramoks that Krijero recognized. Gelan quickly made introductions. “Undercover Ops Supervisor Nost, you’ve met the psych working on this case.”

  Nost and Krijero exchanged quick bows. The head of undercover ops gave the Imdiko a charming smile. “Good to see you again, Krijero. Excellent background on the kind of mindset we were facing today.”

  Krijero fought not to duck his head so he could hide more of his face behind his hair. Compliments always embarrassed him. He mumbled, “Thank you. Glad I could help.”

  Gelan motioned to the other Dramok in the room. “Head Investigator Utta, Criminal Psychologist Dr. Krijero.”

  “Doctor.” Utta bowed and the Imdiko returned the acknowledgment.

  Gelan addressed the two department heads. “All Dr. Krijero is going to do is attempt to engage Latwik in conversation. This should give him a feel for how our suspect interacts with others. I’m hoping he can make some recommendations on how to best approach the subject with the actual interrogation.”

  Utta nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Gelan turned to the row of computers. “Vid up, Interrogation Room Seven.”

  A large vid bloomed into view. It looked like a window to another room, one with a table and an empty chair facing away from the onlookers. On the other side of the table, facing them were three men. Two percussion blaster-armed enforcers stood on either side of a hovercuffed Nobek.

  One of the enforcers was Wynhod. He and the other officer kept their eyes on the prisoner, who was not only cuffed but also locked in a suspension field that held him floating frozen in mid-air. Krijero swallowed. The suspension field kept Latwik absolutely helpless. Gelan wasn’t fucking around with this man; not with a field, hovercuffs, and two armed guards on the prisoner.

  A continuous growl rumbled from Latwik’s chest. Krijero looked into the dark, scarred face of the captured Nobek, and his mouth went dry. Suddenly, all the safeguards in place didn’t seem enough. Not with the heavy-browed, animalistic expression Latwik wore. He looked like violent rage personified.

  Gelan said, “As you can see, Latwik cannot harm you in any way, Doctor. The suspension field is fully activated, as are the hovercuffs. You’ve got Wynhod and Daw standing right there as well.”

  Krijero managed not to shudder. “Yeah. I guess he’s not going to get away, is he?”

  Gelan looked at him carefully. As if discerning the Imdiko’s unease, his tone came out gentle. “Ready?”

  Fuck no, Krijero thought. What he said was, “I guess. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to him.”

  Gelan shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, as long as you get him talking and give me an idea of what I’m dealing with. Come on.”

  He led Krijero back out of the room and took him to the next closed door. For an instant, his hand reached forward as if he would touch Krijero’s shoulder. Gelan froze and put his hand back down at his side. “You’ll be fine, Krijero. I owe you for this.”

  Krijero didn’t know what to say to that. The personal rule about not getting too close to Dramoks notwithstanding, he wished Gelan had given him that encouraging touch. He could have used it.

  The Imdiko took a breath, dipping his head so his hair covered more of his face. He took a step forward, passing Gelan. The door before him opened and the three dangerous-looking Nobeks turned their predatory gazes his way.

  Chapter 9

  Krijero’s heart slammed into overdrive at the bald, hungry stares directed at him. Somehow his feet managed to carry him into the too-warm interrogation room. The door slid closed behind him, trapping him inside with the Nobeks. The sound of it startled him. He stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet.

  “Damn it,” the Imdiko cursed, catching his balance in time to avoid falling on his face.

  Latwik’s growling ceased long enough for him to snort at Krijero’s clumsiness. “Better sit down before you hurt yourself,” the prisoner sneered. When Krijero looked up at Latwik, his hair shifting back to expose half of his face, the Nobek blinked. “What the hell? An Imdiko interrogator? You have got to be joking.”

  Latwik burst out in derisive laughter. Well, at least someone in the room was enjoying himself. Krijero sat down in the lone chair and looked up at the prisoner. He might as well capitalize on his seemingly weaker stature by letting the gang member look down on him. Maybe if Latwik didn’t see him as a threat, he’d be more prone to talking.

  Krijero smiled with an ease he didn’t feel. “I’m not an interrogator. I’m a psychologist.” He shook his hair back to look Latwik in the eye, trying to give the other man a sense of his forthrightness.

  Latwik’s eyes widened. He grinned at Krijero. “Well, aren’t you the cute one? If I’d known I was going to talk to someone like you, I might have got myself arrested sooner. Gonna cure me of all my ills, Doctor?”

  Cute? Krijero’s face burned, and he forced himself not to look at the other two Nobeks. They must be ready to howl with laughter. He kept his focus on the prisoner. “I’m just here to evaluate you. Your name is Latwik, right?”

  “That’s right. Do I get to hear your name?” The man fairly purred at him.

  Krijero wondered if flirting back would get Latwik to talk. He decided he wouldn’t be able to pull it off, so he kept his tone professional. “My name is Krijero.”

  Latwik raked his eyes over the Imdiko and licked his lips. “Do you like dangerous Nobeks, Krijero? Maybe you’re tired of nice men who play it safe. What do your boring clanmates do for a living?”

  Krijero maintained a friendly attitude, though something inside him shrank. “I’m not clanned. What about you?”

  “Most know better than to mess with the likes of me. But I am good for a little play. Ever go to the pleasure clubs?”

  The pleasant expression on the Imdiko’s face grew stiff. No way he’d tell this beast he was no stranger to the area’s local play scene. Especially not in front of Wynhod or Daw.

  Instead, he parried with his own questions. “So there is no one special to you then? No one to go home to after a long day of selling Delir?”

  For the briefest instant, Latwik’s expression altered. In that half-breath, Krijero saw an undercurrent of fear, then the Nobek ogled him once more. “No one that looks like you, pretty Imdiko.”

  “Most of the people associated with Delir kill themselves when the police catch up to them. Why is that?”

  He got a scowl for that. “I don’t want to talk about Delir.”

  “Okay. What would you like to talk about?”

  “You bent over this table, your sweet ass in the air, waiting for me to fuck it.”

  Snarls erupted from Wynhod and Daw. His fangs fully descended, G
elan’s partner told Latwik, “You won’t be able to do much when your cocks are yanked off and shoved up your ass.”

  Latwik growled threateningly back. “Let me loose and put that blaster away, boy. We’ll see who loses what body parts.”

  Krijero wasn’t one bit aroused by the prisoner, but the two guards were magnificent in their bestial anger. Particularly Wynhod, with his fangs out and muscles tensed. A warning warmth low in the Imdiko’s belly told him to chill out. He looked away from Wynhod’s savage beauty, determined not to humiliate himself with an erection.

  Filling his tone with a lightness he didn’t feel, Krijero said, “He’s not bothering me, enforcers. Since he’s too afraid to talk about the Delir and what happens to those who get caught—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen. Nothing,” Latwik said between clenched teeth. “They know I’ll keep my mouth shut. There’s no reason for them to worry about me.”

  Krijero shrugged. “That might be true under torture. The truth telling drugs, though? No one can resist those for long. It’s just a matter of separating the random memories that don’t mean anything from the stuff the interrogators do want to find out.”

  He saw the flash of fear in Latwik’s face again. The Nobek pressed his lips shut, telling Krijero he wasn’t going to talk anymore. The Imdiko slowly rose and addressed him one last time.

  “All right, Latwik, it was nice to meet you. I’d wish you good luck, but that would be kind of stupid I suppose.”

  He turned and headed for the door. Gelan had been right after all. Krijero had picked up some clues that might help the investigator.

  It wasn’t until Krijero stepped out and the door slid shut that he realized Wynhod was right behind him. The Imdiko jumped in surprise and nearly fell. Wynhod snagged him by the arm, steadying him with a slight smile.

  When that almost-grin didn’t disappear and Wynhod was slow to let go, Krijero thought maybe the Nobek was about to make fun of him. “What?”

  Wynhod finally chuckled. “Flirting with the suspect? It’s a good thing you’re not clanned, Imdiko. Your clanmates would take it out on your ass.”

  “I wasn’t flirting. I let that scary man do all that. Even if I was clanned, I don’t think I did anything to be in trouble for.”

  If I was clanned… Krijero thought of his ex-intended Dramok, Pertak. A weight slammed into his gut. He must have made some kind of face in reaction, because Wynhod’s gaze was searching.

  “Are you all right, Krijero?”

  The Imdiko took a breath and let it out. “I’m fine. I need to report to your partner.”

  “He’d be in the viewing room. Come on.”

  Wynhod released him but kept close as he escorted Krijero back to the room where Gelan, Utta, and Nost waited. None of the three Dramoks looked particularly happy when they walked in. The group had an air of uncertainty.

  Gelan offered Krijero a weak smile. “Okay, so that might not have gone so well—”

  Was he kidding? The Imdiko interrupted him right away. “Latwik has someone he’s worried about. He’s concerned for their safety. I’d check into family, whoever you can find he’s connected to. That’s the gang’s primary hold on him.”

  All four men stared at him, openmouthed. After a couple of beats, Gelan blinked. “Okay. That’s a start. What else?”

  Krijero was excited. His few minutes with the Delir dealer had given him plenty of insight, insight he could hardly wait to share. “When you find out who it is he’s so scared for, snag them and put them under guard for their protection. If you have that and can guarantee their safety, Latwik will probably talk. And you might remind him that now you’ve gotten your hands on them, the gang will think he’s opened his mouth anyway. He’s got everything to lose and nothing to gain by giving you the information you want.”

  Gelan stared at him with something that looked a lot like admiration. Krijero swallowed at the expression of overt appreciation. He hadn’t really done anything that special, after all. He’d simply noticed what made Latwik nervous.

  Gelan’s grin spread over his face, lending the sharp, noble features a warmth that Krijero didn’t want to respond to. The Dramok’s happy expression was echoed by everyone else in the room, except for Wynhod who merely seemed impressed.

  Gelan said, “Good. Excellent. Anything more?”

  Krijero had thought he was done, but a flash of inspiration came over him. He said, “Don’t ask Latwik anything yet. Put him in a cell, and let him stew overnight before you begin interrogation. He’ll spend the night worrying. It will prey on his mind more than threats.”

  Utta shook his head in disbelief. “Where have they been hiding you, Krijero?” He turned to Gelan. “It sounds to me like he should have been on this case from the start.”

  The wattage of Gelan’s smile faded as he gave Krijero a long, evaluating look. Uncomfortable, the Imdiko abruptly studied his scuffed traction shoes. His unruly hair fell forward, hiding him from the Dramok’s gaze.

  The man’s voice was musing. “I agree. His department should have put him on this first thing. I look forward to using what you’ve given me, Psych.” His voice took on a more commanding tone. “Wynhod, get Latwik in a solitary cell. Make sure things are nice and quiet for him tonight. I don’t want anything to distract him from his thoughts.”

  “Got it.” The door slid open and shut behind Krijero, indicating the Nobek’s exit from the room.

  Krijero heard Utta and Nost muttering to each other. He thought perhaps he should leave now, when Gelan’s boots came into view near him. The man stood close enough that Krijero could feel his body heat. Something deep in his gut tightened. He refused to look up at the Dramok.

  Gelan said, “Thank you, Imdiko. I have no doubt listening to that bastard’s crude comments was difficult for you. I’ll see to it he regrets the disrespect, seeing as how you have no Dramok to take offense on your behalf.”

  Krijero had no idea how to take Gelan’s comments. He shuffled his feet, still staring down at them. “Um. Thanks. I hope I’m right and you can get the information you need.”

  “We’ll find out soon. I’m going to get right on researching Latwik’s family and connections.”

  The man’s strong hand gripped Krijero’s shoulder. The Imdiko nearly groaned at the warmth, at the sudden surge of sexual interest.

  Stop being stupid. It’s just a hand on my shoulder. It’s not like he’s stroking my cock.

  Gelan continued to talk, unaware of the effect his touch had on the Imdiko. “I’ll stop by your department tomorrow after I’ve had a go at Latwik and let you know how it goes.”

  “Sure. That would be great. Thanks.”

  Somehow Krijero mumbled his goodbyes to the men and lurched out of the room before he could embarrass himself. By the ancestors, who got hard over someone holding his shoulder?

  As Krijero made his way back to his department, he had a feeling he would be searching for a little intimate companionship after he got off work. Thank the ancestors he wouldn’t have to worry about running into Nobek Latwik at the pleasure club.

  * * * *

  Gelan wanted to celebrate. He deserved to celebrate. As soon as Wynhod had Latwik settled in a featureless solitary cell and they’d completed the most pressing reports that couldn’t wait overnight, the partners left work. They headed to their home mountain complex to enjoy a well-regarded restaurant’s food and drinks.

  Damn, things had gone well today. The takedowns of all the places Latwik had been known to go had gone off without trouble. They’d impounded enough Delir to keep the precinct’s jurisdiction high for a year. They had someone with information in custody. Krijero thought they could get him to talk.

  Gelan thought that if he got any happier, he’d explode. He ordered the choicest cut of ronka steak on the restaurant’s menu, along with a bottle of Plasian leshella. Wynhod raised his eyebrows at the extravagance but said nothing. Good thing for the Nobek, Gelan thought with a smug grin. Otherwise, he’d have to tea
ch Wynhod a lesson or two when he got him home. Tonight definitely demanded not just a good dinner and drink, but carnal delights as well. The rougher, the better.

  The restaurant was just nice enough to offer better cuisine but not so uppity that they’d be looked down on for wearing their enforcement uniforms. Their table looked out along the level’s concourse. From his position on fat, comfortable seating cushions, Gelan eyed the pleasure club across the stretch of walkways. For a few moments, he considered the fun they could have in that place with its playrooms full of instruments of bondage and erotic torment. Hell, they could even add a service Imdiko to their games if they wanted. Pleasure clubs employed unclanned members of the gentler breed just for those patrons who wanted someone nice and submissive, rather than someone they had to fight for sex.

  After a moment’s consideration, Gelan decided against it. He wanted to be alone with Wynhod and was perfectly happy to get sweaty and hard in an all-out fight for supremacy. His gaze was drifting away from the pleasure club’s door when he noted a familiar lanky figure going inside. His jaw dropped open.

  “Hey.”

  Wynhod looked up from his menu display. “What?”

  “I thought I just saw Krijero go into that pleasure club.”

  Wynhod grinned. “Unclanned Imdikos need sex too.” He finally punched in his dinner choices and pushed the screen to the middle of their table’s polished black surface. “He deserves some fun after what he went through. Damn Gelan, I couldn’t believe how well he handled that nasty Latwik trying to make him uncomfortable. I wanted to punch the jerk, and Krijero just smiles and nods his head and acts like it’s the most normal conversation in the world.”

  Gelan enjoyed a sip of the smooth, sapphire-hued leshella. “He was busy figuring out the bastard’s weak points. He didn’t do half bad, did he?”

  He thought about the Imdiko in the pleasure club and wondered if Krijero had gone in just to watch or participate. It was a shame someone like him was alone and reduced to finding sexual expression in such impersonal environs. Sure, the man was awkward and a bit goofy. Even off-putting at times. He was still incredibly smart and nice to look at when all that damned hair didn’t hide his face. Gelan couldn’t see any real reason why the man wasn’t clanned.