by Mina Carter
She’d always traveled in larger Latharian vessels before. Warships were huge, designed to carry small armies of warriors, and built on lines that made her feel like a child. So, stepping into the small confines of the scout ship had been a change. The sense of strangeness was reinforced by the fact the inside was completely bare. Where she’d have expected to see interior fittings—crew seats, bunks, etc.—there was nothing but bare metal walls.
Xaan slid her a sideways glance and smiled with little more than a quirk of his lips at the corners.
“It’s magic.” He winked and pressed a button on the console.
She gasped as the back portion of the cabin came to life. Sections of paneling depressed and moved out of the way as furniture unfolded from the walls and assembled itself. Within seconds what had been a bare room became a fully appointed bedroom.
With one bed.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “You think you’re getting lucky, handsome?”
His smile broadened. “Oh, I’m already lucky. I’ve got the most beautiful female in the galaxy to myself for the next few days.”
She blinked, her surprise showing on her face. For months, they’d been wrapped up in a delicate dance around each other. She’d seen him at his lowest, near death’s door, and he’d helped her navigate an alien society that was nothing like her own. Half the time she’d been convinced he was about to make a claim on her, seeing the male interest in his eyes, but until the dance he’d never once said anything or flirted with her.
Until now. This was flirting. Wasn’t it?
Her eyes narrowed. “Okay. Who are you? And what did you do with my friend Xaan?”
He laughed, the deep, rich sound filling the interior of the small ship. The sound didn’t get to her as much as the expression on his face. The little lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled up. Even the big scar across his face, the one she’d found so scary at first, twisted up by his lips.
“I compliment you and your first thought is I’m a kinatash?”
“A what, where?” she asked, sidetracked for a moment. Even though she’d had the standard neuro-translator implanted months ago, some Latharian words had no direct translation.
“Ermmm…” He thought for a moment. “A face liar? Someone who uses another being’s appearance?”
Realization hit. “Oh, like a shape shifter?” She was instantly all ears. It would make so much sense if there were such beings. “Changes form?”
“Yes, exactly. You have such things on Terra?”
Kenna shook her head. “No, not really. They’re just stories. Myths and legends.”
“All stories have a basis in fact somewhere,” he said as he turned to tap out a series of commands on the console in front of him. The low voice of the computer announced, “autopilot engaged,” and he levered himself up to walk into the back of the cabin. “The kinatash are rare now, but every so often we come across one.”
“Oh? Why are they rare?”
She followed him, almost walking right into his back when he stopped abruptly. Instantly she knew she’d hit on something, his broad shoulders tense as he ran a hand through his hair.
“The Ovverta,” he said quietly.
She froze, the name alone sending chills down her spine. She didn’t know much about Xaan’s early life but she’d been able to piece together some of it. His family had been killed by a species called Ovverta, and he’d hunted them down to extinction in revenge. She didn’t know much about them though. She’d asked but they were like the Lathar’s version of the bogeyman. No one wanted to talk about them.
Moving carefully, she laid her hand in the center of his back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything else.”
“The cabin reconfigures itself on command,” he said, as though she hadn’t said anything. She lifted her hand, giving him room. He’d talk when he was ready. She’d learned long ago that Xaan was a man of few words at times.
“Facilities are in the back, left door. Right door is to the cargo space. Don’t go in there,” he warned. “It’s got less insulation than the cabin so it gets cold.”
“Yes, sir.” She snapped off a quick salute, falling back into her usual cheery, slightly teasing act. She grabbed her pack from where she’d dropped it behind the copilot’s seat. “Dibs on the shower first.”
* * *
Grabbing her wash kit and towel, she disappeared into the bathroom. After a few seconds being amazed that they could fit everything, including a fully functioning shower, into the tiny space, she stripped down and stepped into the shower.
Conscious of the hot water, and that Xaan had to shower after her, she showered as quickly as she could. It didn’t take her long after that to emerge dressed in the shorts and tank top she usually slept in.
“All yours,” she said with a smile, trying not to notice he was sitting on the side of the bed closest to her, stripped to the waist. One thing was for sure… like most Latharian warriors, he was very nicely built. Unlike most though, his arms from his elbows up to his shoulders were covered in crisscross, oddly colored tattoos. But they weren’t really tattoos. They were scars. He’d burned them into his own skin with the acidic blood of some kind of alien snake.
She shivered at the very idea. Tattoos were bad enough, needles driving ink into the skin, but she couldn’t imagine the pain as acid etched the design instead.
“Thanks,” he hauled himself up and headed into the bathroom. A second later she heard the water snap on again. Hopefully she’d left him enough hot water. Used to water rationing from the corps, she was used to showering quickly so she should have.
Draping her still damp towel over the back of the copilot’s chair to dry, she headed back to the bed. It was large, designed for Latharians, so easily larger than a queen size. Biting her lip, she debated which side to take.
It was just a barracks situation, she told herself. Despite the almost kiss at the ball earlier and his “hold that thought,” he hadn’t said anything else or tried to kiss her again.
Which was Xaandril all over.
Trying not to let frustration get the better of her, she picked the side of the bed nearest to her and slid under the covers. Her toes curled as her warm skin met the cool sheets. She curled up into a little ball until the bed warmed up.
Wriggling, she got comfortable, being careful not to encroach on Xaan’s side of the bed. Just a barracks situation, she told herself again. Hopefully this time it would sink in. Instead of the bunks being one above the other, they were just side by side without a dividing wall.
She sighed as she snuggled down. Like most Latharian beds, it was like sleeping in a cloud that hugged her entire body. The blanket was lightweight and silky, but as cozy as any Terran sleeping bag or duvet. One thing was for sure… she never wanted to sleep in a Terran bed again.
A sound from the bathroom made her open her eyes and she realized that Xaan hadn’t latched the door properly. At some point during his shower it had swung open a little, giving her a clear view of Xaan’s back as he stood at the sink, cleaning his teeth. Her eyes widened as her gaze traveled down and she realized he wasn’t wearing a towel. The firm, taut globes of his naked ass were in full view.
Holy hell, she bit back a very feminine whimper. He was just as drool-worthy without his clothes on.
Instantly, though, she shut her eyes. He didn’t realize she was watching him, and she wouldn’t want to be spied on without her knowledge. So it wasn’t fair to assume it was okay just because he was a guy.
I wouldn’t mind him spying… a little voice in the back of her mind whispered, but she ignored it for the moment and turned over. Less temptation that way.
Relaxing her body, she concentrated on falling asleep. She let her muscles go lax as she cleared her mind, imagining herself in a hammock under a star-lit sky. It was a trick all marines were taught to fall asleep quickly, even in a foxhole in the middle of a battlefield. The hammock might change for whatever the individual preferred to visualize
, but the concept was the same.
It had the right effect. Within a minute she felt her muscles relax and her body settle further into the embrace of the bed. She breathed out, a soft sigh of contentment only disturbed when the mattress shifted as Xaandril climbed into bed.
She expected him to settle down on his side and turn his back to fall asleep like she was. They had no idea what they’d be facing when they reached their destination, so being well-rested would give them the best advantage. Tired people made crap decisions.
She certainly didn’t expect a strong arm to snake around her waist, or to be pulled into the protective lea of his bigger body. He chuckled, his deep voice soft in her ear as she started a little. “I had no idea humans could fall asleep so quickly.”
“Practice,” she mumbled, wriggling to cuddle against him. No way was she going to pass up the opportunity. So he wasn’t a talker… if he was a cuddler they could work it out. They could work anything out if they both wanted it enough, even the differences between Lathar and human.
“You’re cute.” His lips grazed her temple. “And so delicate it scares me.”
She was careful to keep her body relaxed and her eyes closed. If he was only talking because he thought she was half asleep, she didn’t want to wake fully and scare him off. Stop him talking.
“Not delicate,” she told him, yawning and pillowing her head on his strong arm. “Marine, remember?”
It felt nice being held by him, and the gentle touch of his big hand on her hip wasn’t inappropriate. Not that she would have been bothered if it was. She’d long ago decided that, of all the handsome Latharian warriors, Xaandril was the only one she would accept. The only one she could see herself spending a lifetime with.
“Yeah, but you’re human. I could break you in two without breaking a sweat.”
“Creepy much?” She snorted.
He stiffened. “I would never hurt you.”
She patted his arm, her lips quirking a little in amusement. “I know. I was only teasing.”
He rumbled under his breath, the sound transferring through his broad chest pressed against her back. Silence fell for long moments, but then, just as she thought he’d started to fall asleep, he spoke again.
“Laryssa was delicate as well. Taller than you are, and so beautiful,” he started slowly, his voice low and almost absent… as though he didn’t realize he was speaking aloud. A stab of jealousy surged through her for a moment but instantly she beat it down. Laryssa had been his mate’s name. The one who had died.
“But delicate. Too delicate. She struggled to cope even with the protected lifestyle I could give her. Bearing our daughter was almost too much for her, and sometimes…” He shrugged, his hold on her moving slightly.
“I don’t know… I felt more like a guardian than her mate. Like she was too good and delicate for me. But then the Ovverta attacked our home planet. We’d settled on one of the outer ring planets, a lovely place with the lilac seas she loved,” he added. “I was away, in service. Back then I was a commander with a war group of my own.”
She stroked the inside of his arm gently. She’d wondered why he had short hair when most warriors wore their hair long with braided battle honors. The only Lathar with short hair were the commanders, like the generals of the Latharian army, who’d risen so high they’d gone past the need to count personal honors and instead put their efforts to the glory of the empire.
“When I got back, they were all dead.” His voice was flat, no emotion running through the deep timbres. She closed her eyes, her hand squeezing his arm a little to give whatever comfort she could for the long ago agony.
“Daanae, our daughter, died first,” he said after a long pause, and this time there was emotion in his voice. Anger. “For years I told myself it was because Laryssa hadn’t heard the alarms. That she’d been asleep and the Ovverta had surprised her, but in my heart of hearts I always knew the truth. She ran. She ran and left our daughter to those monsters.”
Tears hit the backs of Kenna’s eyes, like hot needles. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. Just the idea was awful. He’d lived with that knowledge as well as the grief of their deaths.
He grunted and pulled her in closer against him to rest his chin on the top of her head. “You wouldn’t run,” he said suddenly. “You wouldn’t have left a child to face that alone no matter how scared you were. You’d have died trying to protect any child, even if it wasn’t yours.”
Her breath caught in the back of her throat and she wriggled around to lie facing him. She searched his gaze, humbled at his words. At his belief in her.
“No, I would never leave a child in danger. Not while I had breath left in my body.”
He looked pleased, as though her words had answered a question for him. “That’s what I thought.”
He leaned forward, intent in his eyes, and time stopped. This was it. He was going to kiss her. Finally. And… she froze. All her plans for what she was going to do when he finally made his move disappeared into the ether. All she could do was cling to his heavily muscled upper arms as he pulled her close.
His lips whispered over hers. A soft caress totally at odds with the ruthless warrior she knew he was, it was a mere press of his mouth against hers. She’d barely had time to register the warm smoothness of his lips before they were gone. She moaned in disappointment, crowding closer to kiss him. He chuckled, lips smiling against hers as he kissed her again.
This time it wasn’t a soft brush. Nor was it tentative. This time, he pulled her closer with a strong arm around the back of her waist and claimed her lips like he owned them. She murmured, a soft sound in the back of her throat. His kiss was firm and dominant but not hard… simply leading them both to more pleasure. It held an edge of ruthlessness and experience that made a delicious shiver run all the way down her spine.
Eager for more, she parted her lips in invitation. He wasn’t slow in taking her up on her offer with a deep rumble in the center of his chest that she felt more than heard. A large hand spread out over the back of her hips and pulled her up flush against him. Her breathing caught. He was hard, the solid bar of his cock pressing against her. More than that, he was huge.
She couldn’t help the tiny sound in the back of her throat that was lost as his tongue swept past her lips. He invaded her mouth and teased her tongue with a sensuality she hadn’t expected.
The kiss turned heated, filled with passion as he pressed her against the bed, half rolling over her and shoving a big hand into her hair. She whimpered and writhed against him. Her higher brain functions had shut down. There was only him, them, in the bed… and the heat and tension between them.
His knee pressed between her thighs so she parted them, sliding one foot up the back of his leg. She panted when he broke from her lips to trail a line of kisses along the side of her neck. The cabin filled with her soft murmurs and his deeper, masculine sounds of pleasure, and the sheets slithered around them as they moved on the bed.
He lifted up to brace himself over her, the expression on his face one she couldn’t read. Tilting her head in silent curiosity, she reached up to smooth gentle fingers over his cheek, tracing the line of his scar gently.
“I worried,” he admitted gruffly, closing his eyes and turning his cheek against her touch, “that you wouldn’t want a scarred and crippled old warrior.”
“Who would that be then?” she teased softly, her heart going out to him that he thought he wasn’t good enough. “As soon as I met you—”
Her words were cut off by a raucous screeching from the front of the cabin. She jumped, as much at the noise as the fact Xaan had vaulted out of bed. “What the hell is that?”
“Proximity alert,” he called back. “Trall… There’s a debris field that shouldn’t be here. Get your ass up here and buckle in. I need to get us through this.”
4
“The scans didn’t mention any debris field…” Kenna frowned as she slid into the copilot’s seat next to Xaan, her eyes narrow
ing. “This looks like ship debris, but I don’t recall there being any battles out this way.”
Xaan shook his head, his attention laser focused on the field in front of them as he navigated his way through it. It was easy to dodge the bigger bits of debris, but the smaller chunks could cause serious issues for the shielding. Shields were all well and good, but hit them often and hard enough and the generators would fail, especially on a little ship like this that wasn’t configured with heavy shield grids for combat.
“No, and the readings say this isn’t… wasn’t a Terran ship. Not being funny, but we can tell your ships a mile off. They’re clunky and made from crude metals, not the usual hybrid alloys.”
He risked a look at her. She was curled up in the copilot’s seat again, wrapped in his jacket. It swamped her, making her look like a child playing dress up. He hadn’t been prepared for the sight of her in his clothing, and a bolt of possessiveness and heat rolled through him so intensely he nearly cracked the controls in his hands.
The insistent bleep of an alarm snapped his head back around to the front screen. The computer-assisted flight control was good, but nothing beat actual eyes on the situation.
“If it’s not Terran, whose is it?” she asked, but all he could think of as he brought them safely around a chunk of debris the size of a troop transport was the silky length of her legs sliding against his.
“Well… I can tell you what it’s not. It’s not supposed to be here,” he added when he caught her curious look. “This is not a Terran ship in a Terran area. And there’s no bit of it big enough for me to identify what type it was or who it belonged to.”
“Can’t you just… scan it? Like pick up minute variations in the alloys that tell you where it’s from?”
He snorted. “No.”
“Why not? You’ve got all these high-tech scanner thingies.” She leaned forward to study the console in front of her. Currently it was showing energy outputs from the engines, rather than anything to do with the debris field, but she didn’t know that because the screen was set to Latharian.
