by Stella Cassy
Did they all do that breath thing? That was even better than his tongue. He had that je ne sais quoi that publicists and marketing teams hoped would fill seats, skyrocket ratings, and plump bank accounts. He just knew what to do at the right time. Who would’ve thought an alien could satisfy me like no man ever had? Would I be constantly comparing his touch to anyone who came after him?
“You have been bored while I am away from you?” he had asked. No scripts to review, no lines to memorize, no meetings with my agent, manager, or assistants.
Why wasn’t I bored?
Being on this ship had been like being forced by a doctor to take a vacation in an exotic location. Even on my mini vacations tacked on to the end of a shoot, there were emails, calls, paparazzi, fans, and parents to dodge. All of that just didn’t exist in this world. Especially at night, in his arms, this whole crazy reason we were together was separate from everything else.
I scanned the display of shells he had left open. My favorite was the red one with swirls of pink and blue and green. It reminded of his coloring.
Before I started thinking about the big dead-end Carissa seemed to be, I hurried into the shower and then dressed in my freshly laundered dress. I needed something from my old life. I slipped into the youngling sandals he’d had altered down to my size.
“Talk to Lehar. Make him understand,” Carissa had said, as if he was a normal boyfriend and my only problem was that he wouldn’t put a diamond on my finger.
I didn’t tell her all the times he had said, “You are mine.” He really meant that shit. He already had me. Maybe if she weren’t under the influence of hormones and Tarion she could understand that. Surely even a human alien had felt the same way I did at some point.
“Could you care for Lehar?” Carissa had asked. Yeah, I cared for the big guy, but my life was waiting for me back on Earth.
Not thinking about my conversation with Carissa or what might be happening on Earth had worked last night. What about today?
My curls felt hydrated and behaved even though Lehar had untwisted my bun as usual. After a drop of that cucumber lemon oil Lehar used after his showers, my hair looked about as good as it did when I went to the stylist.
I would ask Carissa to get a flask for me. I was taking some of the rehydration liquid back with me, as much as I could. If I could have it analyzed, get something close to it on the market, I could retire somewhere, take roles I actually enjoyed performing. I stuck out my foot. The weird sandal boots could be part of my line. My manager was always hounding me to extend my brand to products.
I headed to the dining hall where Lehar had said they might be.
Heads turned as I walked into the dining hall. The looks were less curious. They were getting as used to me. I smiled at the purple female alien whose name I’d learned was Kydoei. She made eye contact. It wasn’t exactly a smile, but it was her way of acknowledging my presence. Dashel always did the same. Was that the way they acknowledged non Drakons or just me?
To the left of the entrance, Lehar sat, an indulgent smile on his face as he talked with his niece. He ripped into a hydro pack and she took some cubes from Lehar’s plate and tossed them into her mouth. I made my way over there.
“If she’s going to be your mate, she will be my aunt, but ...” Matilda said, “Someone said she’s a slave?”
“Do not mention such in her company. It will make her uncomfortable. She is a slave, Mattie,” Lehar said.
“A slave!” she said. “No Hielsrane would be mated with a slave.”
I stopped a table away. She sounded so much like the sassy teen I’d played opposite too many times, who had all the fun lines, while I, for most of the movie, had been the tongue tied and awkward girl.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out, and my eyes darted around the room, expecting to see pity. My eyes watered immediately There was no surprise, no pity, as if the teen had stated a basic fact that didn’t warrant any reaction at all.
Before their bland expressions really did turn to pity, I spun and went back to the door. If they could even have any pity for a mere slave.
The clatter of a tray came from behind me, and Lehar shouted, “Lara!” I picked up my pace until I was out of there.
He caught up with me. His arm went around my middle. “Don’t pick me up,” I muttered. I wrenched free and ran around the next corner. I stopped and looked behind me. It wasn’t as if I could outrun an eight-foot alien with wings.
He wasn’t there. I kept walking down and around to the next level, straight to the incubation chamber.
“Lara,” his breath came fast against my neck. His wings were half expanded.
I swung around. “Is there a hidden elevator in this place? Or did you fly? And how did you know I was coming here?”
“None of that matters,” he said. “Come, let us converse in our quarters.”
“Your quarters. I should be in the slave quarters. Where are they, by the way?”
He had me in his arms and I gasped and buried my head against him. He had hopped up onto the railing and flew straight up to the next level before I could say no. This arrogant alien who had helped me escape still thought he actually owned me.
He set me down in the hallway leading to his room. I marched ahead of him until he overtook me and then outpaced me by four feet. I went to my old room and stood in front of the door, but it didn’t open. He locked me out, so I went to his room.
The table and benches were out underneath the vending machine by the time I huffed all the way into the room.
“I was only stating the truth,” he said. “Matilda is a youngling who says whatever enters her head.”
“Your tone said more than your actual words.” I climbed up on the bed.
“I do not recall my voice being anything other than controlled and calm,” he said.
“I know.” I covered my face. “I can’t believe, at times, when I’m with you, I feel like my normal self. I feel like the real me. Not an actress pretending to be other people or the family breadwinner and retirement plan. Not the one who is always thinking before she says anything. Not the one who doesn’t drive or shop for herself or do anything because it might make her image crumble. Not your pampered little slave.”
He paced in front of me. “Humans are slaves. It is not my decision.”
“Carissa doesn’t wear a collar.”
“She is Tarion’s mate,” he said.
“I know. I am your slave. Nothing more, right, Lehar?”
He just stood there breathing hard. He was just like the few men I’d dated who were sweet but for some reason I fell short. I was going home anyway. He was good enough for now.
“I should go back with them anyway. Whenever they go back to Earth—”
“With whom?” he asked.
“With Carissa and Tarion, or whoever can get me back home, where I belong.”
“Tarion! Not in this verse or any other. As cousin or captain, he will not interfere with what is mine despite what Carissa suggests. Neither will I. Your place is with me. You belong here. You are not in want in bed or out.”
“That’s not enough, but another round before I leave would be nice. Or you could take me to the airlock,” I said, crossing my arms and flopping on to the bed in irritation.
“I asked you not to repeat that.” His nostrils flared and his tail whipped against the floor.
I flinched. “You can’t intimidate me with your aggressive tail smacking around like you might turn into the other you—”
“When my caudal snaps the floor, it is an instinctive, automatic response. It helps keep me from doing other things.”
“I’d rather die Lehar, than wear this any longer.” I tugged at the necklace. “I mean it.”
“You do not have to wear it in private, as I have told you.”
“What difference does that make if I have to put it back on, Lehar?”
“Do not say my name just now.” He started pacing again. “Unless you want me between your
legs and pushing up in you at an opportune time.”
He crawled above me with his wings opened a quarter of the way. I lay there with an arm over my face as huffed down on me, drying out my curls.
“I’m serious.” I turned on my side.
“You say mine,” he said. He rolled me on to my back and kissed my forehead.
I smacked a palm against his chest. “You’re impossible, Lehar.”
“You also do as you please. Publicly throwing my name about is like running around naked. Personal names are usually private because it stirs the libido. You may use it in private. I have a lot of control usually, but since I obtained you —”
“Met me.”
“Encountered. Made you mine,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Better,” I said. “I guess.”
He lay beside me. Neither of us said another word for a long time.
“Why do you object to your status so much?” he asked. “I did not invent slavery or the fact that humans are slaves.”
“Humans are beings like anyone else. My mother’s ancestors were slaves. At some point, slavery was a big problem throughout Earth’s history. I’m a descendant of one of the largest groups of enslaved people. I won’t live my life that way.”
“Hielsranes are not in the slave trade,” he said. “We take whole planets and resources. Anything else is incidental. No one, once under our rule, is exploited like the Pax who took you. I only think of you as someone important to me. Your status is no less to me than any others on this ship. Only my feelings toward you are different. I have never experienced this level of bonding. It is more than I have felt before.”
“I’m a little scrambled myself. I mean, you’re not even human and I feel the same. But I’m leaving. I still want to go home.”
He kissed my eyebrows, my nose, each ear.
“Lehar, you know that, right?”
He sighed. “Yes, but I do not want that. I never will. I do not think of my future without you. Do you understand that, Lara?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” I fought to hang on to my outrage at the weight around my neck even after he removed it.
16
Lehar
All ten screens blinked, flashed, and scrolled in front of Dashel, who showed no signs of leaving his station.
“Are you down to a single meal now?” I asked.
He shifted his eyes to the left, at me, for a micron, then back to the screen. “Is it time already?”
“Yes. Go.”
His glazed eyes cleared, and he rose while his fingers flew over the console keyboard.
“What do your meds scans say about your activity level?” I asked.
“Needs improvement.” He laughed. “But I go straight to the rec bay for an extended session almost every solar.”
“You can have an extended lunar break from now on then.” I would not be back to the bridge a micron early from mine. I didn’t like to leave it without Dashel or myself there for too long while on an official mission. I could give up some of that time because I had most of the lunar with Lara in my nest, while his bed was only warmed by his own body heat.
After Lara’s reaction to Mattie’s ill-timed words, I needed to spend extra time with her.
He left the bridge to retrieve his mid solar meal, which he would eat glued to screens of battle simulations. It was his only hobby as far as I could tell.
I cast a glance at the bridge crew whose heads moved from screen to screen in the far corners of the room.
“Computer.” I lowered my voice. “Locate Lara Abernathy.” I could guess by now where she was. I knew her routine. She would be on her way back to our room to eat her mid solar meal with me soon. Many times, I had wagered with myself about her location.
“Subject is at location 2800, the—”
“Incubation chamber.” Correct again. She had not deviated from her schedule. “Computer, display video.”
The screen displayed Lara smiling and chatting with the mother of one of the hatchlings, who was reaching toward her from his mother’s arms. “Computer, how often does the subject visit incubation chamber?”
“Subject has visited incubation center once every solar,” the computer stated. She spent as much time as I did admiring my shell fragments.
Lara had been enthralled by the nursery when I first took her there. There was something that drew me there as well, when I was at my lowest. Or had my dragon been leading me there? I was at that age.
Dashel returned just before I switched the screen. He must have run. I stood and stepped away from my station. Another vidwin window opened. A room full of centaurs filled the screen. “Computer, end security feed.”
“Gods of Chaos, is that the Coovoo?” Leaning over the console, Dashel lowered his hydro pack.
“Yes.” I tapped my fingers against the console. This was no minor rebellion; there were hundreds, if not thousands of centaurs ready to fight.
“We are sending this transmission directly to you because Tarion of Hielsrane is no friend of ours, not any longer. Six planets in our quadrant have fallen under his rule, two of which were completely upended, their leaders dethroned and planetary treasures plundered. He’s a murderer and a lunatic. We reclaim our freedom.”
That sounded like Tarion. I’d helped him with quite a lot of it, but not with as much zeal as my cousin had.
“We reclaim Coovoo’s independence,” a tall, angry looking centaur on the right said. The crowd shouted and stomped, kicking clouds of dust into the air. “Coovoo, Coovoo, Coovoo!”
As the two Coovoo in front signaled to the crowd to calm down, a Moset appeared on screen and stepped between the two, calling for attention with raised hands. “We are joining with the Moset in our quest. Send our liaison and troops home.”
The transmission ended.
“Deathstars.” I ran a hand over my face. “They are barely worth the effort it took to procure them.”
“They would still be at the mercy of every raider in the quadrant if they were not part of Hielsrane. Those worms of the verse,” Dashel spat. “Do you think they are serious about aligning with the Moset?”
“A possibility. That would be two betrayals. Tarion would never allow it.” The grumbling in my gut had been more than my dragon since meeting with Neswove. Lara’s presence made me think it had been all her.
“Computer, locate Captain Tarion,” I said.
“Communication is set to Do not Disturb,” the computer stated. “Captain Tarion is in the rehydration bath on deck one. “
“I can go and get him.” Dashel stood.
“No, but we do need to discuss the situation immediately. Keep trying to contact him, try Carissa too and forward the transmission to him.”
While I waited for Tarion to respond, I would meet Lara for nutrition. The Coovoo and their temper tantrum could wait that long.
I walked down corridor in the direction of the incubation chamber to intercept Lara.
I spotted Lara’s orange garment leaving the incubation chamber. Her hair was pulled back from her face, making her eyes look bigger. Her black tresses bloomed out from her head and brushed her shoulders.
“Lehar!” Lara picked up her pace, slowed, then leaned against the wall, her head bowed. I raced down the hall before she fell to her knees. She grabbed the front of my garment before closing her eyes.
“Lara!” I said. “Clear the corridor!”
The few crew wandering about hesitated, then stumbled into each other and scattered as if they were not familiar with emergency corridor protocol. Some threw themselves against the wall as my wings ballooned to their fullest.
I gathered Lara close, locking her between my arms and legs. I took off toward the railing and dove into the middle, clipping a crew member’s wing in the process. I did not acknowledge my error. “Clear!” I yelled as I lowered to the next level. I swooped in near the medical bay, bypassing the landing ramp.
With my blood pumping in my ears, I landed and sprinted down the cor
ridor straight into to the medical bay.
“Healer!” I yelled.
I was responsible for this little human and she had come to harm in my care. If anything happened to her, how would I come to terms with the loss?
When had she become so prominent in my thoughts, so vital to my everyday routine?
17
Lara
In the white gossamer dress and my platinum and diamond slingbacks that I wore to my last premiere, I twirled into the solarium, where my collection of antique perfume bottles sparkled in my étagère, except in their place were multicolored shells, creamy and brilliant like delicate lava baked porcelain. Where were my perfume bottles?
The solarium windows shattered, and the French patio doors flew open. I stood there in shards of glass while a gigantic burgundy hand reached inside the cabinet and snatched the shells, crushing them into pieces as small as my pink sea salt. Lehar. I looked up at him, my mouth hanging open. He took me by the waist with his other hand. I should scream, I thought, but I didn’t. My only thought was: why was his hand, him, so much bigger than normal? As big as King Kong but with wings. He flew straight up above the clouds into the cargo bay of his spaceship.
Then I was hoisted up to a porthole. I grabbed hold of the ledge and looked over my shoulder at Lehar. He kissed me and I kissed him back. His smokiness was strong in my nose. My eyes burned. He pointed out the porthole. Down below, the only thing left on my plot of land was the pool house. The pool was a black smoking hole. The guard sat in his guard booth, but there were no neighbors left. It was as if one of those runaway wildfires ravaged my community, which had never been in danger before. The smoke from below seeped through the walls.
Again, I looked behind me. Lehar threw his back and slid his hand between my legs. He entered me from behind, moving in and out. I moved my hands from the ledge to the glass, arched my back and moved in rhythm with him. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I leaned my head back on his chest and squeezed my legs together. “Lehar, love me—”
I jackknifed up in the bed and ran my hands over my face. My body damp with sweat. “A nightmare…”