by Eve Langlais
Her own fault. Ignoring her mother’s advice, and full of bravado, she’d gone to a local tavern to ask questions about cogs and Siyborghs. It didn’t go as planned.
All she’d said to the owner of the tentacle cradling her buttock was, “If you don’t remove it, you’ll be sorry.”
He didn’t listen. A stool, suddenly kicked aside, fell over into the path of a corpulent alien with bumpy skin, who crashed against a table, smashing a bottle, a large shard of which propelled with enough force to shear through the tentacle touching her bottom.
It fell at her feet, and Nema shook her head as she stared at it, the clean edge leaking purple blood. “You really don’t want to use that knife.”
She whirled and ducked before a different tentacle could stab her, then grabbed and yanked, sending the alien stumbling. He tripped over the same troublesome stool and tumbled to the floor, right onto his knife. He died a moment later.
The entire room went quiet, with only one whisper to break the silence. “She predicts the future.”
No, that was her grandmother’s supposed skill.
But tell that to the suddenly excited crowd. As eyes gleaming with avarice fixed on her, she finally pulled a pair of daggers, ready to fight. Only someone shot her from behind!
And that was the first time she woke locked up. Given they feared her using her powers against them, they’d kept her in a drugged state that involved much drooling, until the auction.
Then her escape was foiled by two males.
Handsome fellows. One with short, spiked hair, white to the root and yet not from age. His face didn’t have any of the creases, and the general playful nature of his expressions indicated youth. His physique proved lean from what she’d seen, given his attire of leather pants and a black silken shirt covered by a coat trimmed in gold buttons. He wore holsters that hugged his hips and a bandolier that seemed more decorative than practical.
It was his friend, the one who carted her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing more than a scarf, who had more the appearance of a warrior dressed as a dandy. Of dark skin and bright gaze, he wore his hair in twisted knots and, despite his finery, bore a granite expression. His coat might be finely cut, but when it flapped open, she’d seen various weapons within reach.
She should have escaped when he was kidnapping her. Then again, she’d certainly not expected them to shoot her!
How long ago since that happened? Had they put her in a cryo sleep—a word she’d had explained to her after her first kidnapping—like the pirate captain had, intending to keep her subdued until they had a use for her?
At least they’d put her in some nice quarters. The walls were smooth and white except for the embedded art that added a pop of color to the space even as she doubted the authenticity of the impossible landscapes. The bed proved large and plush, the mattress comfortable, the sheets clean. Sitting up, she noticed a light gray fabric on the floor, not quite the carpeting she was used to. There was a long shelf with a stool in front of it that might serve as a desk. Finally, a pair of doors, leading where exactly?
“You’re awake.”
The voice appeared to come from the very air. Speakers, subtly hidden in the walls, surrounded her with a rich sound.
Despite not being able to see the person, she glared at the ceiling. “Where am I?”
“Aboard the Solar Eclipse, which you should have known given you’re supposed to be a seer.”
She sighed. “I’m not a seer.” Hopefully, she never would be. She’d seen what her grandmother’s life consisted of. She rarely left the Lake. Paranoia and a fear of the future guided all her actions. Her people might call the Lake’s visions of the future a gift, but Nema saw it as a curse.
“You were being sold as a predictor of the future. A reader of the past.”
“Only because I made a lucky guess,” she muttered, trying hard to not feel odd that she talked to thin air. And who exactly spoke?
“Given I’ve not got many other options, I’ll take some of that luck.”
“What makes you think I want to help you?”
“I’m trying to understand your dislike. What have you heard about Siyborghs that’s so bad?”
“You are known to be obsessed with filling your bodies with mechanical parts.” She didn’t understand the allure.
“Don’t knock it until you try it, baby.”
She blinked. “Excuse me? I am most certainly not a baby.”
“It’s a human term of endearment. Quite popular at the moment. I’m surprised you haven’t come across it.”
“I have a name.”
“I’m sure you do.”
She waited for him to ask it. But silence stretched. “I demand to know where you’re taking me. What are your plans?”
“Plans? Why that depends on you. What can you do for me, baby?” It almost sounded as if he flirted.
“I’m not a seer.”
“How are you at finding things?”
Apparently better than expected, given she’d accidentally bumped into Siyborghs.
And then tried to escape them. That didn’t work out so well.
They needed her for something, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use them, too. She eyed the ceiling. “You want my help.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you speak to me through a machine?” Her lip curled. “Why am I not surprised.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I can’t expect robots to have manners.”
“Robot? Hold on, baby. That’s not nice.”
“Why the frukx are you arguing with the seer?” barked a different voice. She recognized it as being from the one who’d carried her over his shoulder. The one called Ray.
“Turns out she’s not a seer.”
“Why am I not surprised,” sighed Ray.
“But she’s lucky.”
“How do you figure that?” snapped Ray. “We kidnapped her from a slave auction.”
“Exactly,” said the one she realized was Zak. “If we hadn’t, she’d currently be suffering defilement by that Ymp. She’s too pretty to endure that.”
Pretty? Her cheeks heated. Did they not realize she could hear them?
Zak murmured, “I wonder if she’s mated.”
No. But the fact he even asked… “I’m not looking for a mate,” she blurted out.
There was a choking sound before Zak gasped, “Neither are we.”
Whereas Ray snickered. “Maybe she can read the future because she knew exactly how to scare the rust right out of you.”
The idea of being mated frightened them? She couldn’t help but tease. Not Zak, but Ray, the one who merited it most. “It is my understanding that, in some cultures, kidnapping a female is a mating bond.”
That brought a snarled, “We are not married.”
“If you say so.” She leaned back in the bed and noticed she still wore the white robe from the auction. She struggled to remove it, leaving herself clad in a simple body suit that left little to the imagination.
“You know what, you’re right. We shouldn’t be having this conversation by speaker. I’m coming to see you.”
Rather than reply, she pretended disinterest, assuming there were cameras watching.
At the swish of a door sliding open, she cast a sharp glance to see the one called Zak entering with a smile. He’d lost the jaunty hat from earlier, along with his coat, leaving him in a form-fitting shirt and breeches. His heavy boots surprisingly didn’t make a sound when he walked.
“Hello there.” He offered a slick smile.
She arched a brow. “Hello? Shouldn’t you begin with an apology for kidnapping me?”
“Funny, I was going to ask when you were going to thank me and Ray for saving you.”
“I didn’t require your help.”
“Lying is not attractive.”
“Neither is your patriarchal attitude.” She lifted her chin. “I see that not only do you sully your flesh with metal but y
ou’re still from a society that is archaically gender biased.”
He blinked then grinned. “Did you just call me a chauvinist? My sister would laugh to hear that one given I’ve never treated her any differently than a male.”
“So you claim, but I have my doubts.”
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“You tell me since you claim to know so much about me.” She crossed her arms in annoyance, noting it only served to highlight the molding of the fabric around her breasts. She dearly missed her own clothing.
To his credit, his gaze remained on her face. “Apparently the file on you was a bit lacking. It had no name, not even a picture.”
She cocked her head. “Are you complaining?”
He grinned. “Nope. The surprise was worth it. Although, I must admit, if they’d shown how attractive you are, you’d have sold for a higher price.”
The obvious flattery should have brought scorn, instead her cheeks heated in a blush. “I shouldn’t have been sold in the first place. I was attacked.”
“That happens a lot, unfortunately. What happened to your companions?”
“I had none.” Her chin lifted.
“That probably wasn’t a bright idea. The universe is a dangerous place.”
She wanted to hate the fact that he agreed with her mother—who had turned out to be right. “Don’t lecture me on right and wrong. You tried to buy me. You’re a slave owner.” She recalled seeing him and his friend on the edges, quietly bidding, the slight flick of his hand only going so high in the auction before he dropped out.
“Tried and failed. Hence the rescue.”
“Do you rescue all the slaves you cannot afford?” Nema arched a brow.
“I don’t know. You’re the first I ever bid on.” He sounded sincere.
She found herself skeptical. “I’m not a slave.”
“Prove it. Give me a name.”
“How does having a name prove anything?” she replied with a snort.
“Slaves have a designation.”
An ugly string of letters and numbers with no meaning. She had meaning. “My name is Nema.”
“Lady Nema,” he mused aloud. “No wait, you said you were a handmaiden. To who? A queen? Where are you from, anyhow?”
The queries flowed smoothly, meant to relax and draw forth answers. Siphon secrets.
She flattened her lips. “That is not information you need to know. Now, given you interrupted me during my mission and against my wishes, I demand that you deliver me to the next port of call that I might resume my journey.” How, she couldn’t have said. She had access to funds only if she could reach a bank and prove her identity, the discreet tattoo they’d imprinted on her wrist a strange method to access currency. Contacting her home was almost impossible. Grandmother had warned her that once she left, she would be on her own.
“I guess I could drop you off at Xilu, the next place we’re scheduled to stop in, or we could travel together?” He offered a winsome smile that resulted in a rapid patter to her pulse.
It also brought a frown. “Are you offering your services for hire?”
“Kind of. And I should add your options are limited given the Obsidian Market blew up.”
“You destroyed it?” She couldn’t help an incredulous note.
“Not on purpose.” The reply rather defensive.
Her brow knitted into a frown. “Do you often do things you didn’t intend?”
“All the time.” He tucked his thumbs into the belt loops of his pants.
“I wonder if that’s a side effect,” she murmured aloud, eyeing him more closely, doing her best to not react when she noticed the shadow of something moving under his skin by his temple. A small cog that spun, and a reminder of who he was. What he had inside him.
Perhaps she’d not run into them by accident. Grandmother did love to spout on and on about fate. Nema had gone looking to see if more of the gears like the one that landed via the drone existed, and here she’d found two specimens with some inside their bodies. She could use them to lead her to the source.
“Side effect of what?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter. Back to our current situation. Given your mental acuity is in question, I’ll have to commandeer your ship.”
The laughter emerged boisterous and full of mirth. The kind that tickled over the skin and almost drew a replying grin.
Her lips pursed. “I fail to understand your amusement.”
“You, claiming you’ll take my ship.” He snickered.
“I could. I’m not as helpless as you think.” Despite her grandmother’s and mother’s repeated warnings, her fingers itched. Without an audience around, no one would see if she acted.
“How about we work together instead? You mentioned being on some kind of mission. How about me and Ray help you? We can travel together.”
She cocked her head. “Why? To what purpose? My journey is not yours.”
“Adventure is adventure.”
Her lips thinned disapprovingly. “An easy thing for you to say. There are consequences if I fail.” What if Grandmother’s prediction were true and she didn’t have much time?
“Then let us help you.” He smiled.
Let someone who might very well pose a danger with his metal bits get close? She couldn’t help but remember the reaction of the Lake as it swelled with fear. But was it a fear of the Siyborghs? Or something else?
Because standing close to Zak, his masculinity drawing her eye, his scent tickling her senses, and her blood humming through her body, she didn’t feel danger.
Only desire.
Was this how those sentient gears worked to infect? By seducing possible hosts?
It certainly worked. Her body thrummed with need, demanding things it shouldn’t. Doing its best to seduce. She had to act before his accomplice arrived.
Without warning, Nema darted for him, crossing the few steps between them, intent on her target. She missed the door opening again.
Ray entered, exclaiming, “What the frukx is going on?”
Before she could put an end to Zak and his arousing allure, yet another person shot her, knocking her unconscious again.
6
Zak caught Nema before she hit the floor, the lack of robe showcasing the slimness of her frame. She fit nicely in his arms. He’d never noticed before since Ray handled her the first time, carrying her straight into the ship and putting her to bed as they raced ahead of the Obsidian Market’s explosion.
Thus far he’d only watched her via a video feed while she slept off the effects of the stun gun. Most people took only a few turns of a minor cog to recover. She went through several sleep cycles.
Which was why he snarled at Ray. “What did you shoot her for?”
“Because she was about to murder you.”
“How do you figure? She was bare-handed.”
“I could kill you bare-handed,” Ray observed.
“Maybe. Don’t forget I got an upgrade not long ago.” He stepped back from the bed and flexed.
To which Ray snorted. “Anytime you want to go…”
Zak laughed. “How about right now?” Sparing proved to be one way to pass the time when the space between worlds proved vast, even with their streaking technology.
“Need to redeem yourself since you almost let a lady clean your clock?”
“She wasn’t going to hurt me.” Sure, the intent in her eyes seemed a tad focused, but a pretty woman such as her didn’t have the calluses that indicated a life spent training. He had only to remember his own and Ursy’s hands to remember what fighting fingers looked like.
“Did she say anything?” Ray asked. “Find anything out?”
“Her name is Nema, and she is on some kind of mission.”
“For?” Ray prodded.
He shrugged. “She never said. Although she did think she could just take over the ship.”
That brought a snicker from Ray. “Rich little princess used to getting her way?”
“So another bossy female like your sister. Speaking of whom, we received a message from Ursy.”
“She made it out of the market all right?”
“Yes. Both she and Wulff escaped.”
A coiled spring of tension within eased. “Where they going?”
“She didn’t say.”
And Zak wasn’t too worried. Not only could Ursy handle herself, she had Wulff by her side, a male of many skills and so besotted, yet he didn’t appear to know it. Zak pitied the fellow.
Pitied his other friend Jwls, too, who’d fallen into the trap of love.
Why would anyone want to tie themselves to one person? What could being married possibly do to enrich a life? Zak didn’t understand it himself. Sex was sex. And they did say variety spiced the universes.
But those who married for love claimed having the same partner, every day, morning and night, fulfilled them. Made them happy.
Zak stood over Nema, a sleeping beauty. Her skin had a luminescent quality to it, fresh and unblemished, her lashes a dark fan against the tops of her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, full but not too big. Everything about her a perfect size and shape.
Except for her attitude.
She’d not been happy at all they’d rescued her, which was fine, because he wondered if he’d been hasty in going after her in the first place. Not only did she claim to not be a seer, she didn’t seem to be all-knowing. Then again, she’d not been conscious long enough to truly make a difference.
What if she told the truth? Good thing he’d not paid for her.
If she couldn’t see the past or future, then she couldn’t tell them where to find any treasure. It would really irritate if they’d gotten themselves permanently banned from the Obsidian Market for nothing.
What if she was lying?
How to test, though? And even more important, how to get her to understand she wasn’t in control? He and Ray were. She would answer to them.
While she slept off the effects of a second stun gun, he followed an energy trace they’d accidentally picked up.