by Lea Linnett
“Now?” Kamanek asked, making her pause. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Oh, right.”
“Seriously, sleep,” he said softly. “You can call them in the morning. I’ll take first watch.”
She glanced at him, the issue of the bed now seeming a lot more pressing. The pindar had assumed they’d be sharing, and while a part of her shivered in revulsion at what else the pindar had assumed, another part tumbled over with excitement. “Where will you sleep?”
Kamanek turned to look at her, his brow plate warping into something that looked remarkably like a raised eyebrow. “We can take turns.”
“You won’t…” She cut herself off, not sure herself what she was even asking, and she cursed the whiskey, and the tiredness, and whatever was making her feel so wrung out and vulnerable.
The levekk watched her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, something in his gaze softened. “I didn’t have any ulterior motive in getting this room, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not gonna prey on you in the night or anything like that.”
Her face turned hot, and she ducked her head, unloading her gun and placing it between the bed frame and the mattress. “See that you don’t,” she mumbled, briefly unsheathing the knife at her belt before tucking it, sheath and all, beneath the pillow.
Kamanek chuckled. “I’ll only come if you call for me.”
A laugh escaped her, and she quickly rolled over to mask it. He didn’t need the boost to his ego.
Sleep came quickly, weighing her limbs to the cot, and she slipped into dreams that were more confusing than comforting. They were punctuated by a chink of light, the screaming of metal, human hands reaching for her. But through it all she felt the phantom support of a hard chest against her back, soothing her to sleep.
13
“Mila, hey. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I’m in Sek Vorek.”
Kamanek heard the screech from Taz’s comm all the way across the room, and winced. He glanced at the human, who was sitting on the cot in the corner and holding the comm a few inches away from her ear, her fuzzy eyebrows tented upwards in distress, and Kamanek had to hide his smile.
When the shouting subsided, Taz gingerly pressed the comm back to her ear, and said, “I’m sorry. I really am. But I couldn’t just leave them like that…”
She noticed him watching her, her mouth pulling down in annoyance, and Kamanek lazily returned his attention to the window. There’d been no movement all night and all morning, no one had left or arrived, and the blue dot on his tracker had been rooted in the warehouse since they arrived. He was growing increasingly sure that there was a whole base of operations hidden away inside the long, flat warehouse, which meant this could be a bigger job than either of them had expected.
But it also meant their prey had little to no reason to leave the safety of its den, which made keeping an eye on the place monumentally boring.
And made the human he shared a room with all the more tantalizing.
She’d slept until dawn, her angular face softened by sleep. Miraculously, that softness had remained even after she woke, and she’d looked at him with an odd expression that he couldn’t quite fathom. She’d then promptly locked herself in the bathroom for a good half hour, although the pipes leading to the chem-shower had only rattled for a fraction of that time. She’d reemerged with her sleep-mussed hair valiantly tamed and her olive skin reddened by the chemicals, the disgruntled pout back on her lips.
It was obvious that she was frustrated by their failure the night before. He’d grappled with it himself while he sat alone at the window. But there was nothing more they could have done. Tangling with Niro’s security would only have gotten him killed, and Taz…
He shuddered. He didn’t want to think about what they might have done with her.
“We got something,” Taz said into the comm, rubbing at her arm. “A lead. We’re staking out a warehouse that seems to be the base of operations for the Silver Veil—or whoever the fuck they are.” A pause, while Mila said something. “No, they’re keeping humans there. We saw them. In cages.”
That revelation brought about a ringing silence, and Kamanek turned to see Taz staring at the floor, listening intently. After a few moments Mila’s voice drifted through again, more subdued this time.
Taz sighed. “No, we can’t get to them. But we have a good vantage point, thanks to the levekk.” She glanced up at him. “You were kinda right about him opening doors.”
Was that a compliment?
She noticed his pleased grin and twisted away, her mouth forming a thin line. The movement seemed to trigger an itch on her shoulder, which she scratched at. “Anyway, I was thinking we could actually do some good here with a little backup. Maybe someone with some tech background to analyze the security? Yeah. Yeah, exactly.” She paused, straightening a little at whatever Mila said next. “So you’ll send someone? Really?”
Her eyes had lit up, an uncharacteristic grin worming its way onto her face, but it abruptly fell at Mila’s reply. “Right,” she said, itching at her leg now. “Okay. Yeah, I understand. See you, Mila.”
Kamanek cocked his head at her as she shut down the connection, chucking the comm onto the bed beside her. Her body tensed, as if she didn’t know whether or not to celebrate whatever Mila had said.
“Everything all right?”
She met his eye, her expression unreadable, “In a way. Mila’s sending backup, but she couldn’t tell me how long it would take.”
“That sounds like good news.”
“She said she’s going to extend my probation indefinitely. I’m free to move around until our backup arrives, but I’ll be punished as soon as I get back to New Chicago.”
“Punished?”
“Supply runs. Probably toilet cleaning duty, too.”
The image of Taz battling dirt and grime rather than crime was funny enough that Kamanek had to turn his head away, fighting down a smirk. “That sounds rough.”
“Maybe I should convince Mila to have you join me,” Taz bit out, glaring at him now as she scratched her ankle.
He sat back, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t blame me, this was your idea.”
“You encouraged me!”
“You didn’t need much convincing.”
Taz made a disgruntled noise, shuffling around on the cot until her back was pressed to the wall. “Whatever.”
“What’s Mila’s problem with you, anyway? Sounds like you’ve been on probation for a while…”
“There’s no problem,” Taz snapped, but it was missing its usual bite. She scratched at her hand.
“You sure? I couldn’t help but notice some tension between you, her, and… your sister.”
Her brow furrowed, and she said nothing.
“What’s the story? Probation seems like kind of a drastic punishment for a little bit of rule-breaking.”
“We just messed up a job,” she finally admitted. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh, really?” he said, and he knew he was wheedling, but he couldn’t shake his curiosity. He needed some excitement after staring out this window for the last seven hours. “Because I thought I heard Mila mention you guys as the reason the Lodestars’ numbers had fallen.”
Her itch seemed to be intensifying, and she dug her nails into her shoulder even as she shot to her feet, turning her deeply tanned skin a dark pink. “Don’t talk about shit you don’t understand!”
“Help me understand, then.”
“You’d never be able to.”
“Because I’m levekk?”
“Because you’re a mercenary!” she snarled, her fists shaking, and he braced himself for an attack.
But to his surprise, the human only scratched her neck, let out a strangled noise, and stormed towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Kamanek stared after her, holding his breath without really meaning to, until the whine of the water faucet kicked in, and a frustrated grunt filtered through the metal
door.
That… could have gone better.
Kamanek cautiously rose to his feet, curious about her strange reaction. He crossed the room, pressing his palm to the metal door, and tapped it with one claw. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine!”
He narrowed his eyes as the proclamation was followed by the splashing of water and a stream of muffled curses. “You sure about that? Taz?”
The door swung open to reveal the human wearing nothing but her undershirt and trousers, her skin looking red and raw beneath the rivulets of water that dripped down her neck and shoulders. The sight was almost alluring, reminding him of the flush of embarrassment he loved seeing on her cheeks, but the harangued expression on her face killed his arousal.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did you do that to yourself?”
Taz sighed, rubbing her palm down her arm and grimacing. “It’s just the chem-shower. It doesn’t play well with human skin. Leaves this sticky fucking residue that itches and drives me mad.”
His brow plate dipped, concern almost making him step forward, but he held back. “I’ve never heard of that happening before. Is the chem-shower faulty?”
“No. It’s normal. Although, it isn’t usually this bad.”
“What can you do about it?”
She sighed. “Not much else to do but wait it out. Try to keep my mind off it.” Her face fell as a smirk rose unbidden to Kamanek’s face. “What?”
He shrugged, leaning against the edge of the doorway and gazing down at her. Her undershirt was tight, clinging in places where the water had seeped into it. It showed off the swell of her breasts—something he’d heard about, but never seen—and the sight made him burn with curiosity. “I could help take your mind off it, if you’d like.”
“Do you ever stop?” Taz asked, but her gaze flowed up the long line of his body, from toed claw to plated head. He would never be the broadest, or the strongest, of his race, but Kamanek knew he was a fine specimen, nonetheless. He’d worked hard on his physique, even when other males may have taken… endowments such as his as an excuse to be lazy, and he had a quickness to his fingers that females seemed to appreciate.
And from the way her gaze darkened, he could see that Taz appreciated these things, as well.
“I could make you forget all your worries within a minute,” he said. “Less, even.”
She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parting. But then she flushed red, her face turning the same shade as her irritated shoulders, and she pushed through the gap in the doorway he’d purposefully left for her.
“Is that because a minute’s about as long as you can last?” she jabbed over her shoulder, crossing to the bench by the window and throwing herself down onto it.
He licked his teeth, fighting down the disappointment. It would do him no good, here. He turned and chuckled, asking, “Do human males last longer than that?”
“Men, you mean?”
“Sure. If that’s what you call them.”
She glanced at him as he sat on the cot. “It depends on the man, I guess,” she said, noncommittally.
“So, you’ve got experience, then?”
“A little,” she said, hiding her face in the window. Nothing else was forthcoming, leaving him to wonder about that. On the one hand, Taz seemed too dedicated to the Lodestars to waste time on sex or romance. But she was also wild, and Kamanek personally didn’t want to imagine that kind of passion going to waste.
“So, I’m curious,” he said, drawing her gaze. “What else is different about humans, besides the obvious?”
Taz raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, so you really do only last a minute?”
His gaze darkened, his smile still firmly in place. “Like I said, I’d be happy to show you firsthand.”
Taz glared, but the heat in it wasn’t all anger, he thought. “I assume we’re better at dealing with the weather,” she said after a moment, turning her gaze back to the warehouse below, “seeing as we don’t need climate-control domes to survive the winter.”
“Come to the desert on Origin and see if you still think that,” Kamanek said lightly. “It’s hotter even than this. Do you eat meat?”
She blinked once. “Yeah. When it’s cheap. But we eat plants and nuts and stuff, as well. Do you?”
“Oh, I eat everything,” he joked, looking her up and down. “I’ll try anything once.”
His heart leaped when the human fought back a smile. “You know, that line was even worse than what that asshole levekk was trying last night.”
“Ouch. You wound me.” They fell silent for a while, until a new thought came to him. “I heard that your kind eats more often than mine…”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Once a day is good, more is better. Is that more often?”
“Most definitely. We eat… every couple of weeks? But weekly is better,” he added, mimicking her with a small smile.
She looked impressed. “Sounds useful.”
“It can be,” he said, looking her up and down. “But that means, if I’m hungry, you must be starving.”
Taz grimaced, her hand moving to graze against her flat belly. “Maybe a little.”
Kamanek grinned. “Then allow me to fulfill your every desire.”
---
Taz took a large bite out of the sandwich Kamanek had fetched from somewhere along the street for her and wished it didn’t taste as good as it did. It must have come from a pindar-run store. It was practically dripping with spices and sauce, and there were hardly any vegetables in it, but to her starving body it tasted like heaven, and she had to admit that she was grateful.
She’d never say it to him, though. He had a big enough head as it was.
Kamanek had paused briefly upon returning to the room, just long enough to inhale the three sandwiches he’d fetched for himself in a few large bites and then disappear into the bathroom. Taz told herself she was glad for the space, but the truth was that his absences were beginning to feel as confusing to her, and her body, as his presence.
She’d known him for less than seventy-two hours, but it felt like far longer, and the more time they spent together the more Taz felt like some internal barrier within her was breaking down. When he was there, it was like being in a never-ending fight or sparring session. Her body was aware of him at all times, tracking his position around the room. His touch sent shocks of electricity across her skin, even when it was just the accidental brush of his bone-like claw against her finger when he passed her the sandwich. Her muscles were tense, preparing for a clashing of bodies that never came.
And just like in a fight, she yearned for that clash. She awaited the final showdown with an anticipation that scared her. An anticipation that distracted her from the mission at hand.
But he was just as distracting when he’d left to find them food. Without his quips and teasing, the room had fallen silent, and staring at the lifeless warehouse below had proven to be a poor diversion from the pondering her brain seemed intent on practicing. Even now, as she tried to focus on eating her sandwich, she found herself longing for the stimulation the infuriating levekk provided.
How could she long for anything related to a levekk? How could she crave his attention even as it infuriated her so?
The boredom was getting to her, obviously. Her itch to lash out and do something, to fight something, was getting mixed up in his near-constant flirtatiousness. She couldn’t really want him in that way, surely?
No, she might be getting used to him, even warming up to him, but he was still an annoying asshole, and a levekk. That was something she couldn’t look past.
She was just telling herself this when the door to the bathroom swung open, the cheap metal ringing when it hit the wall. She took another bite and watched the window, refusing to look at him as he padded around behind her.
“How’s the food? What was it called—a sannich?”
“Sandwich,” she replied. “And it’s fine.”
A large body leaned over her shoulder from behind, his breath ghosting the top of Taz’s head, and she shivered, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. “Not a peep,” she said, but when she turned to glance at him, her mouth dropped open.
There were a lot of scales, and a lot of male chest, in her face, and none of it was covered.
She jerked away from him, almost tumbling off the bench, but a strong hand clasped around her arm and kept her from falling. This was a thousand times worse because now she could see everything, from the way his broad shoulders tensed, to the flexing of his stomach muscles as he held her upright. She found herself half-suspended, balancing on the balls of her feet with a half-eaten sandwich raised protectively between them, and Kamanek was definitely holding back laughter now, his tiny nostrils flaring beneath the line of plating that covered them and his lips pursing together.
“You okay there?” he asked, just as Taz managed to find her balance and stumble back. He let go of her immediately, allowing her to right herself, but then he straightened. Her face was now level with his chest, and she was confronted with broad pectorals covered in small scales that shined like copper in the sunlight. They were defined by musculature alone, his chest unmarred by the nipples that human men sported.
She blinked, staring at the spot where they should have been, and then snapped her gaze away. Of all the weird differences between their bodies, that was the one she chose to gawk at?
“I’m fine.”
“That’s your answer to everything.”
“Because everything’s fine,” she said, staring resolutely ahead. “Or at least, they are when half-naked lizards aren’t getting in my face.”
“Sorry,” he said, grinning for real now as he raised his hands in front of him innocently, and Taz didn’t think it was a coincidence that it showed off his clawless fingertips. “I’ll let you fall face-first into your breakfast next time, how about that?”
