by Reagan Woods
She knew he wouldn’t harm her – not physically, but his words landed like a heavy blow to the face.
“Is that what you wanted?” Nora asked, hurt making her tongue thick and the words hard to get out. “I thought we were friends, Lyon.”
He paced away, running a hand through his short spikey hair. He spun back toward her, as though to say something and from the look on his face, it was scathing.
“We were all worried for you, Nora,” Zocan stepped between them, a hand going to Lyon’s chest to lightly push him back before he turned to her fully. “And, though your actions saved us a lot of trouble, we should probably discuss a few things.” He turned to Lyon and nudged him another step back. “But first, let us change the access codes and be away from this place.”
Lyon’s anger disappeared beneath an unapproachable, efficient calm. He stalked to the console and a stool rose up from a door in the floor for him to rest on. “I’ll be working to disable any tracking devices as well,” he reported, monotone. “Setting a course back toward the Cengemi to confuse anyone who might be following us.”
Zocan’s narrow face wore the odd smile she’d first noticed when he was dealing with Vrenti across the negotiation table. Almost absently, he ran a soothing hand up Nora’s back to squeeze her shoulder. “If you take the position to Lyon’s right, he will show you how to operate your new Tetraglide.”
Propelling her forward, Zocan swiped his boot over a floor panel to activate another stool and pressed down on both her shoulders to urge her to sit.
“Er – um – what?” She asked, flustered. “My Tetra-what? No.” She shook her head adamantly before shooting an imploring look over her shoulder to Zocan.
Lyon continued to ignore her, and she realized he might be twisted up thinking she’d overexerted her position in their lives. She needed to make him – make them both – see that she wasn’t trying to control them. “It’s our ship. I won’t make demands on you. Er – mostly.”
Zocan’s strange smile spread wider across his handsome face. It didn’t comfort her in the slightest. “Mostly?” He inquired politely.
Nora took a deep breath and hunched her shoulders. “Please just don’t leave me anywhere or sell me to someone. Or lock me up. Or throw me out a waste hatch. Or –.”
Lyon’s laughter cut her off while the translator was still relaying her words. “You’re daft, female. We set up the situation with Vrenti so you could finagle a promise for safe passage back to Yureth, and you passed it up. Now, you think we’re going to just – what – drop you at the nearest pleasure station?”
Shooting to her feet, she spun around to confront them both. Zocan muffled his own chuckles behind an elegant hand as he supported himself with one arm on Lyon’s shoulder. Lyon simply guffawed as he turned toward her on his stool.
“Don’t mock me, pendejos!” She growled, balling her hands into fists and propping them on her hips angrily. “And for the last time, it’s Earth!”
Zocan sobered first, his eyes soft and serious as he offered her a hand. “Though we are pirates, we hold ourselves to a certain standard. I promise we will not abandon you or mistreat you, Nora. Provided, you give us the courtesy of truth.”
His demand for honesty seemed reasonable. Hesitantly, she took his offered hand. Vrenti’s words echoed in the back of her head but she couldn’t let that niggling doubt ruin the opportunity to make a real connection with Zocan and Lyon.
Nora desperately needed to belong, to find her place. She knew she was better off with these savvy pirates than she would ever be on her own. Their simple refusal to put her out on Coniru and wave bon voyage earned them high marks in her esteem - despite their obvious predilection for mayhem.
Lyon reached out to place his hand over hers and Zocan’s. “It’s agreed. We three shall keep truth and honesty between us. This we swear on the Sacred Mother and her Consorts.”
Zocan repeated the words and then both males looked to Nora expectantly. “I-I have no idea who the Sacred Mother is,” she stammered. “But I promise to always act in our best interests.”
That seemed to satisfy them and the weirdly touching hand-holding broke apart leaving Nora feeling bereft. To cover her confusing reaction, she smirked, “Now, I think we should get to the applause and accolades.”
Lyon snickered, some of his former warmth leaking through his cold facade. “You’re more than welcome to praise me, but really, I haven’t done anything all that taxing today.”
“Ha ha,” she rebutted flatly. “Admit it, you’re impressed that I killed those mercenaries and got us this sweet ship.”
“Well done, Nora,” Zocan acknowledged seriously. “I can’t tell you how happy we were to see you alive.”
“And your negotiation skills were far superior to this one’s,” Lyon slapped Zocan lightly on the arm. “You got a ship, supplies and an escort out of the Troclian. He gave away the Sword of Triumph.” Lyon’s scowl lacked real censure.
Zocan snorted, unbothered by the criticism. “It seemed a tribute to his superior numbers might not go amiss.”
Nora raised a brow. “Enough chit-chat. Someone needs to set this baby up with voice commands so I can learn how to fly her.” She pointed to the flight console.
“She’s demanding,” Lyon observed to Zocan as he joined Nora at the fancy controls.
Zocan chuckled. “Something tells me you like it.”
Chapter 28
Lyon watched as Nora nodded off only to jerk awake at her station. They needed to have a conversation, but now was not the time. He was mostly over his dismay that she hadn’t taken the opportunity to barter with Vrenti for transport back to her homeworld. She’d indicated that was what she wanted above all else, so of course, he wanted that for her.
He hadn’t bothered to analyze the tender emotions he harbored for her. She was a sweet, sweet female with a resiliency he admired. However, he didn’t know what to make of her choosing to stay with their band of hunted pirates. It was a decision he feared she would come to regret.
She hadn’t moved or otherwise indicated she was progressing through the tutorial for nearly an hour. The voice prompts in her strange, hacking language were silent.
He had no idea when she’d last slept. Dark circles showed beneath her drooping, bloodshot eyes and her skin was unusually pale. Her exhaustion was painful to witness.
Zocan eyed her slumping shoulders and then met Lyon’s concerned gaze over her head. “Nora, you should go lie down,” he suggested from his seat on her other side.
Her shoulders stiffened and she sat taller atop her low-backed stool. “I’m fine.” Her speech was so slurred with fatigue that she had to repeat it for the translator to pick up her words and relay them.
“There are only two cabins in a Tetraglide,” Lyon began apologetically. “Z’cari and Natar are resting in one. You should take the other,” he urged.
“I’m good,” she declined huskily, shaking her head groggily. “I can hang.”
“Nora, that’s patently untrue,” Zocan told her gently. He placed a hand on her shoulder and Lyon watched her list into the support. “If you’re afraid to sleep or to be alone after what happened, one of us can sit with you for a bit.”
“I said I’m fine,” she snapped, bracing her arms on the console in front of her.
There was a temper beneath that docile exterior, he noted. Zocan seemed amused rather than offended at the small show of fire.
For Lyon, it was interesting to watch his mate comfort Nora. After Zocan had struggled so mightily not to show her any compassion, he was clearly done fighting the potent combination of her sweet spirit and that contrasting, unexpected bravery. That was good. If ever there was a female in need of nurturing, Nora was it. Zocan was a born caregiver though he didn’t often show that tender side of himself.
Nodding to his mate, Lyon indicated that he should do as he saw fit.
Zocan stood. “Don’t hesitate to call for me if something comes up,” he said to Lyon before ben
ding down to place a firm kiss on his smirking mouth.
“Of course, darling,” Lyon replied, sliding his eyes back to Nora’s dazed yet obstinate visage. “Good luck.”
“I’ll need it,” Zocan agreed, turning to scoop her up into his strong arms. They made a pretty picture, the messy, dark haired female juxtaposed against Zocan’s regal good looks.
“Put me down!” She squeaked, dissolving the romantic illusion of the moment.
The two faced off with narrowed eyes in a silent battle of wills that had Lyon chuckling. They turned matching expressions of displeasure on him and he wisely contained his mirth.
The star charts at his station made a convenient excuse to send them away. “I’m busy here. Take your argument elsewhere.” He made a shooing motion over his shoulder.
“It’s obvious someone must see that you sleep,” Zocan grumbled, carrying her off the flight deck. “As usual, you’ll have to be cajoled into doing what’s good for you.” The petulance a comment like that would have communicated just a few days before was markedly absent.
“This isn’t cajolery. It’s force.” The program continued to translate Nora’s words loudly enough for Lyon to pick them up as the two made their way down the steps to the short hall that split to lead to the living quarters.
They needed to learn to trust and tolerate one another if Nora was to stay with them. Now was the time for that faith to take root and grow. He had the distinct impression it was going to be a loud, messy progression. And he was looking forward to the entertainment their clashes would provide him.
Another chuckle slipped out as the sounds of their bickering died away. Though he knew Zocan had been slow to accept it, Nora belonged with them. Maybe she wasn’t the missing side of their trinepact – only time would determine that – but she was certainly the kind of person they needed in their lives.
Lyon was a soldier. Actions counted far more with him than did mere words. Something in Nora – inherent loyalty? – caused her to skip an opportunity to return to her home planet. Was it so she could be certain the people who had saved her life were safe in turn? Lyon didn’t know many people, male or female, who would sacrifice something they wanted to repay a debt like that. Despite – or maybe because of – the agreement they’d reached, he intended to discover what exactly had led her to stake her life on her honor. Because she hadn’t been entirely certain of her reception even after she’d made the trade.
“Females are a puzzle,” he muttered to himself as he initiated another scan for hidden code that might relay their whereabouts or other signs of treachery. Vrenti had conducted himself honorably. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t monitor them to sell their location to the highest bidder.
Pirates made powerful enemies and plenty of them. Thwarting those that would capture them for a bounty was part and parcel of their profession. They were always careful, always planning and always prepared for the worst.
Things were different now though. More was at stake.
Topmost on his mind was the CGA assassin. They’d managed to evade him in the Dead Zone with Bram and Lacy’s help, but Lyon knew losing his ship was but a minor deterrent to an assassin of that caliber. He would regroup and come after them. Soon. They needed to be well hidden by then.
Though they’d changed ships twice since encountering the assassin, they’d left a trail a dimwit could follow. It wouldn’t take much to connect the missing Bark of Ashwamei to Coniru – it was the only place they could go without chancing the Dead Zone again.
Though they’d kept a low profile on Coniru, plenty of people had seen them in the market proper and on the docks. Vrenti had surrounded them with sufficient hunters that they should have been hard to spot, but the Troclians had been fascinated by Nora.
She’d been delightfully oblivious to their stares and the little bumps and jostles as they’d attempted to discern exactly what she was. Even Vrenti had commented that her scent was unique and unsettling to the Troclian olfactory organ. Thankfully, Nora was unable to understand the Troclian tongue without the translation program and had been too engrossed in her first glimpse of the space dock complex.
Still, if one of Vrenti’s hunters remarked on her to the wrong person, they would be easy enough to track. There weren’t many females out this far – and there certainly were no other Lyarans.
Lyon intended to travel toward the newly established colony in as roundabout a way as possible, but it was time to regroup and gather with their own kind. Natar and Z’cari had been in hostile territory for so long that they deserved to recover in the bosom of their people. Add in that Zocan was technically their king, the only surviving son of the Lyaran dynasty, and that made it prudent to show his face and assure the elders that all was well.
How would the elders react to the events of these last weeks? Moreover, how would they react to Nora? When Lara was with them, they’d always managed to avoid taking her anywhere near any of the places where other Lyarans had gathered. They didn’t have that option without Ssszit. His psychic powers combined with Lara’s had always been enough to keep them safely stashed away when he and Zocan had to be absent.
From everything he had seen, Nora was ill-equipped to survive on her own. Getting the drop on one group of criminals didn’t necessarily mean she could survive that kind of attack again. There was no safe place to hide someone so vulnerable and soft. The universe had predators salivating to exploit naive primitives like her, and Lyon couldn’t let that happen.
Natar cleared his throat as he hovered near the top of the steps. Lyon hadn’t heard him ascend. “Can’t sleep, old friend?”
Hesitantly, Natar joined him at the controls. “Z’cari and I have a few concerns. Have you got a moment?”
“Of course,” Lyon answered, gesturing to the workstation Nora had abandoned. “Join me.”
Chapter 29
Nora snorted and bolted upright narrowly avoiding cracking her head on the sloping ceiling above her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she raised a shaky hand to it as though the act might somehow calm the rapid beating.
“Are you well, Nora?” The translator whispered the words.
There was a low light burning and she could just make out the lump that was Zocan on the far edge of the lake-sized mattress. He sat up and she could see the gleam of his shipsuit and the outline of his long braid falling over one broad shoulder.
It was comforting to know they were both fully dressed. Her memories of arriving in the cabin were smeared over with fatigue.
“Nora?” He prompted again. “Are you having a waking dream?”
“N-no. Sorry,” she answered, her voice clogged with sleep. “I had a nightmare.”
He grunted before offering, “Do you wish to speak of it?”
Nora thought back to the grinning skulls, detached from their bodies, hovering close and chasing her down darkened halls and up endless spiral stairs. Ridiculous. “Not really,” she decided. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
Zocan lay back down. “I suggest you try to go back to sleep. Natar and Z’cari will take duty in a few hours and Lyon will join us here. He is an active sleeper,” he warned.
“Join us?” She squeaked. “Er – shouldn’t I go with Natar and Z’cari or something?”
“Normally, I would say yes; however, I don’t think we want to go there just yet,” he replied thoughtfully.
“I don’t understand,” Nora insisted, straining her eyes to make out Zocan’s expression in the shadowy darkness. They’d thrown strange looks in her direction right before they disappeared into the ship. She hadn’t given it any consideration at the time. “Do they not like me?” Her heart gave a little squeeze of disappointment at the thought. She’d done her best to befriend the mated pair. It hurt to know people she thought of as friends didn’t think as kindly of her.
“It’s not that,” he denied. There was an undercurrent in his voice that she didn’t like – that told her it was exactly that. “They don’t understand how you were able to ove
rcome five well-armed criminals without any harm befalling you.”
“They don’t trust me?” She fretted with a huff of disappointment, hating the whine she heard in her own voice. “I used strategy like my father taught me. Divide and conquer. And, okay, I had more than a little luck on my side.” She admitted, unable to shake the feeling they’d all be sad but weirdly fine with it if she’d died.
“I think we should give it some time to let them settle in before we explain that,” Zocan said pragmatically. “They’ve been through a lot these last years and they’ve learned not to trust easily.”
Heat flooded Nora’s cheeks and her throat clogged with tears, but she slogged on. “Because they – you all – expected me to die. You thought I’d wring my hands, maybe squawk and cry a little, and ultimately, die a terrible death.”
“Well, yes,” Zocan agreed after a moment. She had to give him points for honesty though it stung.
“But I was thrilled to find that wasn’t the case,” he added hastily.
“But they don’t trust me now,” she said bitterly. “Because I didn’t give them what they expected.” She paused to rein in her temper, but it flared out of her control. “Things didn’t go how I expected either, you know,” she spat, hating the slippery burn of bile rising in her throat. She’d made a terrible mistake throwing her lot in with these people. “But I haven’t questioned how you knew to come back to the ship with reinforcements. Trust works both ways.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Zocan admitted slowly. “But you’re correct.”
Nora thought of throwing Vrenti’s words at him then as further proof of her willingness to cooperate, to be part of the team, but something held her back. Instead, she said, “I’ll happily answer any questions you have, but I’m not going to apologize for doing my best to survive. I’m not sorry I killed those guys.”