by Alana Khan
She bestows a warm, wide smile on him and I wonder if she’s smitten. His veneer is so gracious, so generous, so handsome.
I bend slightly at the waist and gesture for her to precede me out the door. We walk from his huge suite on the first-floor balcony to the stage and then through the maze of hallways to our quarters. Three of the Emperor’s guards follow us. If he were to simply give the word, those guards would be our captors, perhaps our tormentors, rather than our protectors.
Grace’s safety is so precarious. How can I defend her? One thing I do know. I can’t let her know what I just saw in his mind. She would never be able to perform her last concert tomorrow if she knew. I want to rescue the enslaved female. But even more than that, I must keep Grace safe. My Grace.
I’m not much for praying, but I pray with all my heart that Zar and Axxios find a way to outwit and outrun the cartel. I picture them swooping in as Grace takes her final curtain call tomorrow and snatching us off this dracking planet.
~.~
“What a charming man,” she sighs after we’ve both showered and are lying down.
“Indeed,” I reply, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
“You didn’t eat any of the doggy bag I brought you.”
“If the translator is correct, on my planet we do not eat that type of animal, it is considered a housepet.
She laughs, then explains the term.
“Thanks, but I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Seriously the best food I’ve eaten in my entire life, Tyree. I felt guilty, eating it in front of you and not being able to share. Sure you don’t want some now?”
“No appetite,” my tone is sour.
“Don’t you think the Emperor is handsome?”
What is that inflection in her voice? Is she baiting me? Why?
“And charming. Don’t you think he’s the most charming fellow?”
My hands ball to fists at my sides. I don’t believe I’ve ever been irritated with Grace before, but my anger gathers so fast my temples throb and my jaw clenches.
“Did it seem to you like he was interested in me, Tyree? Do you think he might have a little crush? Did you know he’s not married? Imagine that, a man of his good looks and muscular stature. I was thinking—”
I can’t control myself any longer. I roar into her head like the fire stallions from Luxon IV. Grace! I scream at her, my anger flaring.
Dear Lord, Tyree. Did you need a written invitation to come talk to me in my head? My next move was to give voice to a sexual fantasy about that horrid male.
Horrid? I slow my breathing and unclench my fists.
Yes, horrid. I’ve never encountered a male, or female for that matter, so enamored of their own voice. The food was delicious, but the dinner was endless. I could barely wait to come back to our room and giggle with you about what an ass he is. You do think he’s an ass, don’t you?
Okay, my breathing is almost back to normal, but now I have to figure out how to laugh and joke with her and not let her know exactly how black that male’s soul is. I’m assuming he’ll be at tomorrow’s performance as well. If she knew half of what I know, she’d never be able to tolerate being in the same room with him.
Total ass, I agree. Galaxy’s biggest ass.
I got a pervy vibe from him, too. But let’s change the subject. I wish we could snuggle in this bed. Although, after what happened last night maybe that’s not a good idea. I miss those nights before your Transformation when we’d laugh and have fun watching vids in bed.
We could do that again, Grace. It’s just that now we have other things we can do in bed when we’re bored. More choices than vids…
Are you leering at me, Tyree? I wish I could see your handsome face. It’s kind of interesting not being able to touch. Maybe tonight I could be the one to tell you what to do under your covers.
Mighty bold, Miss Grace. Some night I would like that, too. In fact, I’m moving that very thing to the top of my fantasy list.
Ohhh, very interesting. What’s right below that?
I’m at a choice point here, keep up this sexual banter and tease poor Drackhead to the point of a trip or two or three to the bathroom, or shut things down right now.
We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and your dracking dinner took hoaras. We should probably save our little games for another time.
You’re right. One more day on this crappy planet. One more exhausting performance. Do you think the Sweet Del...The Warrior will be here tomorrow? I don’t even want to think that it might not...Nope not going there.
Absolutely. Tomorrow. I try to reassure her, even though it might not be true. For all I know everyone on board could be dead right now. We’ve got good males and females on that ship. I can’t allow my mind to think such things. It will probably touch down before the end of your performance. We’ll grab those beautiful gowns of yours and make a run for the ship.
Do you really think I need those gowns? I’ll probably never perform again.
You asked what the next fantasy on my list was? It involves those dresses.
Mmmm, tell me.
Nope, I’ll show you. We’ll be back on board the ship. In our room. I keep the thought to myself: Because you’re mine. We’ll sleep in the same room. We’ll be truemates.
I turn over to go to sleep then freeze almost as if I’m paralyzed. A thought has been nagging at the back of my mind since that noxious excursion into the Emperor’s mind, but I couldn’t place it. Now it’s like all the little hints are tumbling into place, and it’s chilling me to my marrow.
When I was rummaging through that madman’s mind something seemed out of place. There was something about the cell next to Tawny’s. His thoughts flicked there several times. But the cell was empty.
Maybe he used to have a captive in there and was still thinking about her, but I didn’t get any images of that. My heart almost stops beating when I realize I found pictures of Grace in his mind. I was paging through his images so quickly, trying to see the broad view, I let the tiny fragments escape into the river of his thoughts.
But now that I replay what I saw and slow the river down, I see there were two distinct times he pictured my Amara. As I stop the vid from running and look closely, I see the pictures aren’t of Grace in a green or red dress, but of her nude.
There is a strong hand squeezing my heart. My mouth is parched. I’ve never felt this level of fear before—even when I was seven and kidnapped by aliens.
The Emperor is a madman, and he wants my Amara in a cell. In his dungeon. Next to poor Tawny who he’s nearly abused to death.
Almost worse than this is the fact that I’m alone on this planet. I’m less than one lunar cycle post Transformation with no comrades, only one gun, and a pitiful set of chainsticks I don’t have the skill to use properly. There’s a good chance everyone on the Warrior is dead. I can’t expect rescue. How can I protect my Grace?
I could be wrong. We could be safe. But we’re not. She’s not. This I know for certain. The one thing in this life I believe I’m meant for is to protect her—and I don’t know how.
My mind is racing like the fastest computer, but I can’t see any way to keep her safe. I’ll try to be clever, to use my abilities, but Quirinus is the most powerful male on the entire planet.
I consider telling Grace, but there’s nothing she can do. It will just make her more anxious and miserable. If she plays badly tomorrow God knows what will happen to her.
Then the thought pierces into my brain. If things go badly tomorrow, I want her to know how well and truly I love her. I have to tell her again that I consider her my truemate. Perhaps it’s something she can hold onto, to give her strength.
Grace
Grace. Grace, are you still awake?
Mmm-hmm. I was almost asleep. Tyree’s voice inside my head sounds different, urgent.
I know the timing is odd, but I wanted to speak to you about something important.
Sure, Tyree. I love talking to you. What’
s bothering you?
Nothing’s bothering me, Amara. I just think you should know…
It’s like he ran out of gas. The mindlink is severed for a minute, then reconnects.
I told you the other day when we thought we were going to be killed or separated by the Federation, that you’re my truemate. I haven’t mentioned it since—you’ve been so preoccupied with your performance, but I just feel compelled...
He sounds so serious. I’m now fully awake.
I just need to tell you I’ve known you’re my truemate since before our revolution. I want you to know how important you are to me. I realize I’ve frightened you with talk of truemates. You’ve avoided it since my poorly-timed disclosure. I won’t discuss it again unless you bring it up. But perhaps...there might be a moment when it will be important for you to know...to hold onto the fact that I love you with all my heart, as deeply as a male can love a female.
Tyree, I—
Larian truemates share love, and so much more. I will do anything and everything in my power to make you happy, to provide for you and protect you. I would die for you, Grace.
I stop a moment to consult my heart, which is squeezed in the tightest clench, as I bask in the words this male just said to me. Tyree, I don’t know what to say. That’s certainly the sweetest, most impassioned thing anyone has ever said to me.
I never knew my father. My mom neglected me and allowed others to abuse me, and here the galaxy’s sweetest male just declared his undying love for me. A normal person would be swooning, and groveling, and kissing the ground the Larian walks on. But me, abnormal as I am, I’m figuring out how to tell him I’m not interested.
Did I never have that talk with him? The one I should have had about not getting too close? The one where I tell him I can’t rely on anyone because I discovered early and often that no one is reliable?
I should explain to him I don’t know how to trust. And I should tell him I’m afraid to be dependent on anyone, even him.
My head is spinning when I realize he’s silently waiting for a response. He’s the nicest male I’ve ever known—human or otherwise. How do I tell him he should find another truemate, someone who can open her heart fully to him? Someone who isn’t neurotic and phobic and as fucked up as I am.
Grace, I can tell by your silence that my words weren’t what you wanted to hear. I shouldn’t have said them. I’ll never bring them up again, it was presumptuous of me to divulge them. You don’t have to respond. When we wake up tomorrow let’s pretend I didn’t say those things. Just go to sleep.
Tyree, I’m sorry. I care for you, I do. You don’t understand what you’re asking. I’m messed up, I—I realize he severed the connection and hasn’t heard a word I’ve said
Chapter Thirteen
Grace
This day has been difficult, although Tyree’s been the perfect gentleman. I certainly would be a bit more pissy if someone just broke my heart. He’s been super protective all day, doesn’t want to let me out of his sight. I practically had to physically kick him out of the bathroom when I took a shower. He ordered me to leave the door open a crack, and it wasn’t sexual—he was serious. I know he’s worried about the crew of the Warrior. I am, too. But it seems to be more than that.
He’s got a wrist comm connected to the ship, but it won’t work until the vessel hits atmo on Emirus.
I don’t want to think about my friends on the ship, I don’t want to think about the creepy Emperor, I don’t want to think about tonight’s performance, and I definitely don’t want to think about what’s going on between Tyree and me.
I know he’s a special male. Any woman would be lucky to be with him. He’s smart and funny and we always have a great time together. Our sexual chemistry is off the charts. Almost everyone on the ship is coupled up in one way or another. It would be easy to just let the truemates thing happen, whatever that entails.
I’ve decided sex is pretty terrific, and I don’t need to run from that anymore. I’m human. I have needs. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share my body with than him. But more than that? Give my heart to someone? Be desperate and clingy and codependent on a man? Give up huge gobs of myself just to have someone to have sex with or protect me or “take care” of me? No thank you.
And unfortunately, Tyree wants that. He wants to share a room and be mates like Shadow and Petra, or Zar and Anya. I need to be my own person—to find myself and quit hiding from people. And I need to learn to do that as a single person. Not a couple.
Things have been so tense today—we’ve barely talked. I should have taken the opportunity to explain myself, but when I practice my speech in my mind it just sounds lame.
Finally, it’s time to get ready for my performance. Tonight’s the white dress. I saved this for last. It’s the most formal and signifies I’m done with this terrible obligation.
I watched the neon ladies very carefully yesterday and I think I can do a serviceable job on my hair and makeup. I’m beyond ready for this day to be over.
~.~
The concert exceeded expectations. I’m receiving a standing ovation and the crowd is roaring its appreciation. Since this is my last performance, I take this opportunity to tear my eyes off the golden doorknob at the back of the hall. There are a lot of Emirusians here, but also a smattering of other races from all over the galaxy.
Now that I pay attention, I see that neon wigs seem to be all the rage for many of the women—and some of the men. I always wondered how people with four arms would manage, but by the looks of them clapping, it works just fine. I don’t focus on everyone’s differences, I bathe in the fact that their faces all seem to be beaming at me. They truly enjoyed my music tonight, and that makes me feel awesome.
I’m studiously avoiding turning my head to my left, where the Emperor’s suite is. I know he’s here because he asked me to join him for dinner again tonight. As terrific as the food tasted last night, I don’t want anything more to do with him. He had a creepy vibe I’d like to avoid. I try to focus on the applause and not the worries nagging at the back of my mind. I’m terrified that all my friends are dead and no one is coming to take me off this planet. And my heart is breaking for Tyree because by the look on his face, his heart is breaking for me.
Damn, here comes the Emperor, with his contingent of eight guards. Tyree steps out on stage as well, looking strong and handsome in his gladiator uniform—all that burnished skin, all those rippling muscles. He comes to my side and stands, making his protective presence known. The Emperor doesn’t even give him a second glance.
The auditorium quiets and Emperor Quirinus announces, “I want to thank you all for attending. I can see we all appreciated Miss Grace’s entrancing music tonight. She truly is the Musician of Angels. Perhaps I can convince her to stay right here on Emirus so she can entertain us on a regular basis?”
The crowd erupts in thunderous applause. At first, it seems like an innocent statement, but the way the Emperor’s brow furrows, as well as his odd smile, make me wonder if there’s a meaning I don’t quite understand.
He leans low and whispers in my ear as the audience files out, “Please join me for a bite to eat, Miss Grace.”
I nibble my bottom lip, trying to think of a nice way to bow out.
“Your bodyguard is welcome as well. I’m sure you’re hungry after that enchanting performance.”
“I’m so tired, your Highness. Your offer is so gracious, but…”
“I won’t take no for an answer.” He smiles, but it comes off as more of a leer.
With that, he gently takes my elbow and pulls me toward his suite. I glance over my shoulder and look at Tyree, hoping my expression conveys the fact that I’m not happy about this. We’re totally outnumbered here. I’ll have a quick bite and then beg off. Tyree’s face looks more like an angry plastic mask than his actual skin. His muscles are tight and his eyes are sending me a message I can’t quite read.
“You certainly can be persuasive,” I tell the Emperor
when we’re sitting at a table that is groaning with food in his luxurious suite. “Our ship is coming for us shortly. I’ll have to make this quick. I need to get back to my room to pack.”
“You’ve received word from your ship? Your captain’s mother’s health has improved?” he asks casually as he takes a dainty bite.
“Well,” I shrug, “the plan was for them to pick us up tonight after my last performance, no matter her health. He knew his visit wouldn’t be a long one.”
I’m hating this conversation. I just want to hurry to my room and slip out of this uncomfortable dress.
The Emperor gives a slight nod to Mauritious, and his men move lightning-quick. One guard stands on either side of me, and six surround Tyree, knives pointing at his throat before he can move. Tyree’s gun is wrestled from his hand before my mind fully grasps what just happened.