by Reagan Woods
Zocan growled, “For the last time, we aren’t slavers and we don’t condone slavery.”
“Finish the damned story,” Nora insisted with an impatient eye roll. “How did you come to know Lara?”
“She escaped Hash-Han and made her way to a space station we frequently traded at. We found her hiding in our storage bay,” Lyon answered with a shrug. It was ancient history, but if she wanted to waste time discussing it, he would indulge her. She hadn’t had much opportunity to immerse herself in real Lyaran conversation before now and it seemed to be helping Zocan relax.
At her skeptical look he smiled, “She was very young and clearly scared.”
To his surprise, she bent forward, wrapping her arms around her waist, and laughed. The happy sound lightened the atmosphere noticeably and put a stop to his impatient thoughts. “Such fierce pirates you are,” she scoffed, sitting up to knuckle moisture from her eyes. “Taking in a stowaway and making her crew because you are big softies.” Her relieved breath ruffled her fluffy bangs.
It was clear her words weren’t meant as insults, that she found relief in hearing how they treated Lara, but she was jumping to another subject before Lyon could question her emotions too closely.
“What happened to your other ship? I feel stupid for calling it your ‘pirate ship’, but I really don’t know what other term to use.”
“The Nom’magata,” Lyon supplied. “Z’cari and Natar were going to take possession of her and piece her out so she couldn’t be used to track us.”
“I guess that never happened?” She pressed, leaning forward intently.
“We never gave it much thought,” Zocan admitted. “There is a chance that she might still be at the Xani public space dock.”
“Are we far from Xani? What am I saying, of course we are,” Nora sprang to her feet in one agitated move. “I’m partial to this ship because, you know, I – what was your word? Oh. Yes. I procured her, but what if we went and retrieved the Nom’magata? Wouldn’t that help you regain some of your ability to be pro-active?”
She mangled the pronunciation, but Lyon only beamed at her. He wasn’t one for idle talk, but this one conversation was clearing the air and bringing up new avenues of opportunity. “It is better suited for what we’re trying to do,” he murmured to Zocan.
And it was – on many fronts. First, the Nom’magata was indeed a superior vessel. They’d taken its processor when they’d pulled the crystal, but without the physical tech, the processor was of limited use.
They could avoid having to travel to the colony because the Nom’magata’s communications array would allow a secure connection without compromising the colony’s location.
More importantly, having their ship back would allow them to send Natar and Z’cari into hiding without further risk. Natar remained in a fragile and paranoid state while Z’cari was determined to protect his mate at all costs. And though he and Zocan didn’t often speak of it, there was no guarantee that either male could be trusted. There was no concrete evidence exonerating Natar from planting the homing device in Nora’s boot.
Just as there was nothing that exonerated Nora herself. Nothing beyond the fact that both he and Zocan had fallen for her. Still, it would be easier to discern her motives at their leisure if…
“There’s still the matter of the CORANOS assassin,” Zocan broke into his thoughts soberly. “He might be watching the ship for just such a move.”
“We could gather data and assess the situation,” Lyon observed, knowing that was what Zocan would want to do in any case. “We can be within range of Xani within a matter of days. What say you?”
“You’d best go update our coordinates,” Zocan agreed. “I’m going to get some sleep.” He turned to eye Nora who was still minus one boot. “Take her with you, but don’t keep her out too long this time.”
Lyon bit back a smile and inclined his head as Nora scrambled into her forgotten boot. “It will be as you say.”
Chapter 39
Nora’s bowels clenched with nerves as she scurried to keep up with Lyon’s long strides. She was elated to be out of the cabin, but this would be the first time she laid eyes on Z’cari and Natar since the meeting that led to her imprisonment. How would they react to seeing her?
She steeled herself for a knock-down, drag-out fight when they stepped onto the bridge. Instead, she stopped dead when she caught sight of Natar and Z’cari. Z’cari hovered behind his mate. Exhaustion had carved deep groves in his scarred face.
Natar was seated at a workstation. At the sound of their arrival, he turned slowly, like a frail old man, to face them. His yellow eyes were sunken, and his skin stretched taut over his high cheekbones.
He squinted, his eyes momentarily unfocused, until he homed in on Nora’s face. “I see you brought the spy out of her cell. Has she promised to change her ways? That she’ll never do it again?” He cackled, his mouth twisting into a snarl. “Or has rutting between her legs blinded you to her treacherous ways?”
Z’cari’s face fell even as he placed a soothing hand on Natar’s back. He closed his eyes for a moment but stood mutely at his mate’s side.
Lyon stepped between Nora and Natar, drawing the latter’s attention to himself. “Let us attempt civility, please.” He held Natar’s over-bright gaze for a long moment.
Slowly, Natar seemed to pull the crazy into himself, and his eyes cleared. He dipped his head in deference. “Forgive me,” he appealed stiffly. “That was beyond bounds.”
Lyon nodded sharply and drew Nora to another workstation across the room. “We’re setting a course for Xani,” he announced, his fingers sliding and swiping over the command console to bring up the navigation system.
“Er – may I ask why?” Z’cari inquired from behind them.
“To assess the status of the Nom’magata,” Lyon answered matter-of-factly as he finished inputting the new coordinates.
Nora turned so she could keep an eye on Natar. He seemed to have zoned out. Z’cari, on the other hand, was wringing his hands and shooting concerned glances at his mate.
“She is a much better-equipped ship,” he acknowledged. “We wouldn’t be able to sell her for parts from that port.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice, “And I do not think Natar is in any condition to return to Xani.”
“We have no intention of jeopardizing Natar’s well-being,” Lyon assured him. “We’re looking for leads on who might have been tracking us. There is also the lure of reclaiming the Nom’magata and either piecing her out elsewhere or putting her back into use.”
“You mean to return to work, then?” Z’cari fingered his scar absently as he considered. “It’s probably a wise decision to get back to business.”
“After a few months of recuperation, we hope you and Natar will be ready for a new assignment as well.” Lyon’s words let Z’cari know that he and Natar were still valued team members, but that he understood they needed some time off and that they needed a job that wasn’t quite so intense as their work on Xani had been.
Nora strongly suspected one or the other or possibly both Natar and Z’cari had set her up to take the fall for the tracking device. After all, Natar was the last person to handle the boots before they went on her feet. That didn’t solidify his guilt, but it was a hell of a coincidence.
Despite her suspicions, she felt an unwitting pity for the duo. Perhaps watching Z’cari get gunned down in battle had been too much for Natar. Though he had held vigil at his mate’s side stoically enough. Whatever the cause, Natar’s mental state was clearly deteriorating and Z’cari’s instinct appeared to be to protect his mate from further disturbance.
“We welcome time to heal,” Z’cari agreed fervently. “Then, we will be ready to further the cause.” He glanced at Nora quickly and then away again. “You still intend to avoid the colony?”
The overt mistrust irritated her – especially because it was unfounded.
Lyon nodded and turned to clasp Z’cari’s upper arm affectionately. �
�You have my word that we won’t bring trouble to your sisters or their mates. Our families, our future will be protected at any cost.”
Z’cari’s rigid posture relaxed appreciably. “Their existence keeps us going,” he confided. “Sometimes it is the only thing that motivates us.”
“Though most of our close relatives perished, Zocan and I feel a great responsibility to those who remain. We will see them restored,” Lyon intoned soberly. “I must return Nora to the cabin. I will rejoin you shortly.”
Nora quietly puzzled over the exchange as Lyon escorted her like a prison guard to her cell. His meandering pace didn’t register until he spoke. “You have something to say?”
She had a lot to say, but no concrete evidence and no firm conclusions. These Lyarans all had a shared history, a common cause. There was no reason for them to trust her or to betray one another. Still, she had to speak out – even if he didn’t believe her. “I’m pretty sure Natar bugged my boot.”
Lyon gripped her elbow tighter and pulled her into his side, ducking his head to hers even as he continued to propel her forward. “It is a distinct possibility. The question is why?”
Her knees sagged as relief swamped her, tension leaving her body in a rush. Lyon half-carried and half-dragged her through the sliding door into their cabin as she sputtered, “What? When did you - ? But why?”
Zocan sat up as they tumbled into the room, his eyes gleaming from the gloom as he took in the situation.
“Sorry to wake you, darling,” Lyon remarked urbanely. “I believe Nora will have some questions for us once she gets her thoughts in order.”
Nora jerked her elbow from Lyon’s grip and punched him in the stomach. “Oof!” He bent at the waist.
She didn’t apologize. Instead, she stalked to the edge of the bed where she dropped down and glared at the two stupidly attractive aliens. Lyon recovered to lean casually against the door, his hand rubbing absently at his midsection, a faint smile on his wide face.
Zocan, long, golden hair tumbled loosely over his shoulders, had the cover draped over his legs, one leg bent in the air as he rested back on his hands in a model’s pose of masculine beauty. Gak! That kind of perfection shouldn’t be possible – and why, oh, why couldn’t she tune out how attractive they were? This really wasn’t the time to get all fluttery. No, this was the time to let them know how freaking angry she was!
She wanted to curse, to flail about. That would get her nowhere. She needed answers.
Nora did her utmost to ignore the shivery prick of heat that she felt at being the center of their combined attention. “I’m very interested in why you cut off the translator, why you’ve kept me locked up like a prisoner and why you are acting like Natar and Z’cari are innocent?” She barked, emotion making her voice harsher than she intended.
“This was my doing,” Zocan answered before Lyon could.
She glared at him, not trusting herself to speak. Severing communication had been like cutting off her arm – and there better be a damned good explanation for it.
“You understand we still have no clear proof of how the tracking device got in your boot.”
Nora nodded, and he continued, “I know I didn’t put it there and I know Lyon didn’t put it there. I don’t believe you had any way or reason to smuggle it aboard.” He paused. “I don’t want to think either Natar or Z’cari would do something like that…but I have to consider they might have. The translation system is something I cobbled together in haste, and it required the intra-ship communications system to be in ‘listening’ mode constantly. It wouldn’t have taken much technical skill for anyone to listen to whatever was being said anywhere on the ship at any given time.”
Comprehension dawned. “You’re saying whatever you and Lyon talked about could have been spied on.”
“Anything we said to you could have been heard, too,” Lyon added apologetically.
Nora pursed her lips. “Why didn’t you use it to spy on them?” She asked.
“We had other, better, options,” Zocan answered with a shrug. “Or so we thought. We were duped. Now, we are trying to figure out why. Your idea to collect our ship might provide the time and distance we need to figure things out.”
“But why lock me up and isolate me?” She argued. “Thinking you intended to punish me hasn’t been fun.”
Lyon snorted. “We’ve kept you safe, Nora. There are no better guards than the two of us and neither Natar nor Z’cari – if indeed they are guilty - were able to kill you and point the blame in your direction. You’re welcome.”
Zocan made a calming motion with his hand. “Now, darling, don’t be rude. Nora had no way to ask her questions as she refused the sublims. She’s finally come along to the point of rational conversation, so let’s be happy that we’re all communicating now and leave it at that.”
She flushed. There was no way to miss that Zocan was giving her full credit – and responsibility - for her decisions. “I don’t want to argue,” she insisted. “But I’ve been very scared.”
“Now you see that was wasted emotion.” Lyon quirked his brow sardonically.
“It is late,” Zocan pointed out as he patted the mattress beside him to indicate Nora should come to bed. “We can discuss things further tomorrow.”
Chapter 40
Nora had believed she wouldn’t sleep, but she’d dropped off immediately. The sounds of Zocan quietly exiting the sonishower drew her from slumber. He always moved stealthily in the mornings. He was considerate like that.
Normally, she rolled over and went back to sleep until after the change of her guard, but this morning she was more interested in answers than sleep. Though her tired body protested, she pushed herself into a sitting position and knuckled the sleep crust from her eyes.
Zocan, as handsome and fresh as ever with his hair plaited neatly into a tail down his back, looked over, surprise clear on his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized immediately.
“You said we would talk more today,” Nora reminded him crankily as she shoved a hand through her disheveled crop of hair. Zocan’s effortless elegance always made her feel self-conscious. He was a treat to look at, but all that masculine perfection was intimidating.
“And so we shall,” he agreed. He moved closer to the bed and casually combed his fingers through her short hair. “Your hair is so soft and shiny,” he commented, feathering the longer bangs to one side and smoothing the rest flat. His voice dropped to a husky murmur, “And the color, so dark, it’s very lovely.”
Nora froze, certain that any movement would bring her fully awake and this dream was far too good to leave. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been touched with such tenderness. When she dared to look up, he stepped away, his arm dropping to his side even as he met and held her gaze.
Immediately, she felt her cheeks flush with pleasure. She cleared her throat, acutely aware that he was gauging her reactions – and that this was reality. “It used to be so pretty and long,” she blurted wistfully. “I’ve never worn it short like this before.”
“It will grow back,” he said confidently. “Though it does seem to have its own personality.” His long-fingered, elegant hand smoothed firmly over her head again as though he were stroking an animal.
“It’s curly,” she replied lamely, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress so his caresses felt less lover-like and more friendly.
This was a bizarre and surprisingly intimate conversation for them. Though they slept side by side every night, they didn’t often speak unless he demanded a report on her studies. Nora had to admit that most of that was her fault. Zocan had been standoffish and rude to her in the beginning. Though he’d explained his behavior, she continued to give him the silent treatment.
He stared at her for several long beats. The star-shaped pupils in the center of his liquid golden irises seemed to well into dark, fascinating pools.
“What did you want to talk about?” He prompted.
Nora clos
ed her eyes against the wave of mortification. How long had he sat there, waiting patiently for her to speak while she gaped at him like an idiot? Cheeks burning from embarrassment, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I think Natar is strung out on something.”
“Strung out - ?”
Nora licked her lips nervously. She needed to make her observations clear without stepping on any land mines. “Showing the signs of using mood-altering drugs,” she explained with a helpless gesture.
Zocan sighed and eased himself onto the side of the bed. “It is entirely possible that is so,” he admitted with a troubled frown. “Z’cari and Natar had a very difficult assignment on Xani. The atrocities committed by the priests were only one of many heinous aspects to that place. Having agents in the market there was a necessary to the cause, though, and their previous careers made them ideal for the work. That doesn’t mean it was pleasant. Frankly, I would be surprised if they didn’t need chemical assistance to continue to function.”
Nora mulled over his words with a frown of her own. “I guess I thought maybe his conscience was getting the better of him or something and that’s why he was cracking up.”
“Cracking up?” He questioned with a snort. “I can usually follow your bizarre idioms and the odd ways in which you state your ideas, but that is a ridiculous phrase.”
“I suppose now is the time you tell me that I’d be better at conveying my thoughts if I’d only use the sublims?” She asked drily.
He patted her knee reassuringly. “No. If you decide to use the sublims, that is fine. I won’t pressure you to do something you’re so strongly against.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, relieved that they wouldn’t be fighting first thing in the morning,
“Don’t thank me.” He smirked as the door slid back to reveal Lyon. “I simply don’t want you accusing us of trying to influence your decisions. Good morning, darling,” he greeted Lyon.
“Good?” He questioned with an irritating smile. “It would seem it’s a miraculous morning – not merely good. To what do we owe the honor of seeing those bright brown eyes so early?”