Draekon Pirate

by Lee Savino

  His lips tilt into a smile, and then he catches sight of the bottle on the side table. “Lodihe is potent stuff. You should be careful, Diana. Ektons might be able to drink large quantities, but—”

  I hold up my hand to cut him off. “I’ve been living on an Ekton ship for six months. I know how to handle myself.”

  He inclines his head. “You're right. You do know how to handle yourself, and I didn't mean to imply otherwise. My apologies.”

  He’s hung like a horse, and he can admit he’s wrong. Somebody pinch me; I’m dreaming.

  Mirak opens a hidden cupboard and pulls out a bottle. “About First…”

  I undo another button.

  His eyes flash with amusement. “I see how we’re playing this,” he murmurs, leaning back, his long legs stretched out. “Very well, spitfire, we’ll do it your way.” He gives me a full, tempting smile. “Go ahead. Distract me.”

  He knows exactly what I’m doing. I don’t understand why, but I undo another button anyway. “You’re an asshole, you know,” I tell him.

  “I have no illusions about myself,” he agrees. “If we’re listing my faults, let me add a few to your list. I don’t care about causes. They just bore me. I don’t get involved. I spend my life in a state of indifference.”

  And yet he saved us. Why? I don’t ask. “I don’t trust people.”

  “Yes, that’s pretty obvious,” he responds. “Though I think it’s not quite as simple. It’s a little more nuanced than that.”

  I want to ask him what he means by that, but instead, I flip him off. He grins and takes a sip of his drink, his eyes locked on me. Warmth spreads through my body. He’s watching me as if I’m the only person in the universe, and it’s an addictive, heady sensation.

  “Since you brought up the shower…” He crosses his legs at the ankles. I keep waiting for the towel wrapped around his waist to fall off, but sadly, it refuses to cooperate. “You saw me naked. I think it’s only fair that you reciprocate.”

  “You do, do you?”

  “Mmm. You should take off your shirt.”

  I fight the temptation to do exactly that. “The shower was an accident.”

  “Is that a no on the shirt?”

  It should be. If I had any sense, it would be. Except I feel the weight of his gaze like a touch. The warmth of his smile lights a fire in my core. “I’m considering my options.”

  His expression turns dark. Predatory. “Should I try to persuade you?” he purrs. “Should I tell you that when I closed my eyes in the shower, I was thinking of you?”

  “You were?” My voice comes out breathless.

  “Mmm.”

  “What was I doing in your fantasies?” What the hell is wrong with me? I’m playing with fire. I’m flirting with the dragon.

  “You were lying on my bed,” he murmurs. “Naked. Soft and ready. Your hair spread over my pillow, your arms open and welcoming.” I lean forward, turned on and mesmerized, and he takes another sip of his drink. “I kissed my way down your curves. I sucked your perfect nipples into my mouth, and you whimpered—”

  “They’re not perfect.” I feel hot and flushed. My breasts ache. My swollen nipples chafe against the fabric of my blouse.

  “We must agree to disagree.”

  My comm beeps, a routine notification about an automated course correction. I silence it. The Mahala can manage an evening without me.

  “Then I put my head between your legs,” Mirak continues.

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe you said that.”

  “Why? It’s what I was fantasizing about.” His eyes rest on me. “Should I stop?”

  No. Yes. I don’t know. “No.”

  I undo the last button, and my shirt falls open. Underneath, all I’m wearing is a bra, handmade for me in the Ciras Exchange. Mirak clenches his eyes shut. “Spitfire, you’re killing me,” he groans. “Forget the comm. Meet me somewhere instead.”

  “What?”

  “For a drink. You humans have this custom, no? You sit, you drink, you talk, you share a meal…”

  He’s inviting me for a drink, but he’s offering much more. He wants to fuck me—the expression in his eyes makes it obvious.

  And I want him too. If he were here right now, I’d rip off that towel and jump him. I swallow. “Do we have any food in common?”

  “Let’s find out. You’re going to the Heca Exchange to repair the damage the Mahala took, aren’t you? You’ll dock at your usual spaceport in two days. Slip away from your crew and meet me at Zuha.”

  I’m assuming Zuha is a bar. “Will you give me my knife back if I do?”

  He laughs. “You have to show up to find out, spitfire. Will you?”

  A delicious lassitude fills me, the lodihe at work. I consider Mirak’s offer, temptation lapping at me. I feel like I’m taking a giant leap into the unknown. “Okay,” I whisper. “It’s a date.”

  A date with a Draekon. It’s got to be the effect of seeing Mirak in the shower. It’s completely scrambled my common sense.

  9

  Mirak

  Tarish’s secret source, the one who’s providing him useful intelligence about Blood Heart?

  It’s Diana.

  Bast. Mahr. Kashrn. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.

  A little over a month ago, the Rebellion had tried to plant a spy in Blood Heart. A Zorahn woman, Nala Darniq. She’d been the one who’d sent us a warning that First was headed to Consalas.

  But Consalas had been a trap, one First set up for Kadir. And when Kadir had arrived there, he’d found First, standing over the dead body of the spy.

  A few days later, he’d sent us a reel of Nala being tortured. It had been mercifully short, but it had still been stomach-churning.

  I’m a Draekon and a soldier. I live with the constant agony of the rathr. I can take torture; I was expressly engineered to withstand pain. Not so Nala. The Zorahn woman hadn’t been an innocent—she was an experienced operative, and she’d known what she was signing up for. But nobody can really prepare for torture. The last few moments of her life had been agony. She hadn’t died easily.

  And now Diana’s involved. If First finds out… My fingers tremble. The glass I’m holding falls to the ground and bounces around. The amber liquid goes flying everywhere.

  It can’t happen. First cannot find out. I will not allow it.

  Theldre ab Beni comms me the next morning. “Fourth,” he says, his eyes fixed on me. “Or should I call you Mirak?”

  Mirak. I think about the way Diana had whispered my name last night. Her dark eyes had been unfocused, hazy with lust. For a moment, I’d wondered if I’d slipped into a dream, and my subconscious had brought the subject of my fantasy to life.

  “Fourth will do.”

  “And you really are one of the Crimson Force. When Diana told me about your identity yesterday, I could hardly believe it. If I hadn’t seen you shift with my own eyes, seen the red scales…” He shakes his head. “A thousand years of stasis. Amazing. You shouldn’t even be alive.”

  She’d only told Theldre about me yesterday? She’d kept my secret, though I hadn’t asked her to.

  Diana Behrman is full of surprises.

  I keep the shock off my face and wait silently for Theldre to continue.

  “You saved my life yesterday.”

  “I stole Docarro’s money. Call it even?”

  “If it were only my life you saved, I’d agree with you,” he says seriously. “But it was more than that. You saved my son’s life. You saved Diana’s life.”

  Ah, Zabek is Theldre’s son. That explains why the pirates wouldn’t leave him behind. The son clearly hasn’t inherited his father’s intelligence. Stealing from the Pajeon without an escape route out of the Sarkanon sector. What a stupid thing to do.

  “Which leaves me in your debt,” Theldre finishes. “Why were you on Besep 3?”

  A direct question. I debate my options and decide on a direct answer. “I was hoping to meet you. I’m a messen
ger from the Rebellion. They would like to recruit you to their cause.”

  “Me, or my spy network?”

  “Both.” Honesty compels me to add a qualifier. “But mostly, the spy network.”

  The Ekton is silent for a beat. “I don’t like being indebted, Fourth,” he says at last. “But no, I will not join the Rebellion. Ask me for anything else.”

  I was prepared for his rejection. After all, I’m not the first emissary from the Rebellion. It still stings. Disappointment spirals through me. “Can I ask why not?”

  “Because Tarish has the subtlety of a sledgehammer,” he replies. “He’s not devious. He’s not cunning. He doesn’t understand the limitations of a spy network. He will push too hard, too fast, and he will get my spies killed. I cannot allow that.”

  Theldre cares about his people. He’s protective of them. It’s an admirable trait, one that’s rare in a pirate. “Things have changed in recent months. Draekons from the prison planet have joined the Rebellion. Two of them, Dariux and Zunix, were the Spymaster’s apprentices before they were exiled. Tarish will not be in charge of your spies. Dariux and Zunix will.”

  “I’m aware of the changes in Tarish’s inner circle,” Theldre replies. “I’m not yet convinced.”

  Not yet convinced. There’s hope then. “I would like an opportunity to change your mind.”

  Thel studies me for a long time. “Why don't you come aboard my ship?” he finally says. His voice turns amused. “This time, with an invitation. We’ll be on the Heca Exchange in a couple of days. I’ll be losing one of my navigators—Parani just told me she’s quitting. Something tells me you’re qualified to do her job.”

  The best I’d hoped for was another meeting with the pirate. This offer is both generous and unexpected.

  And if I’m on the same ship as Diana, I’ll be able to place my body between her and danger. I’ll be able to better protect her from First.

  “I accept.”

  10

  Diana

  Zabek wastes no time in his attempt to undermine me. The next morning, when I enter the mess for breakfast, he’s already there, talking to Azeer and Sina.

  Great.

  Azeer is Ekton. He’s the third-in-command. He’s never displayed any sign of open hostility toward me, but he’s also made no effort to be friendly either, probably because he used to be the interim second-in-command before Thel appointed me to the post.

  Sina is his partner. Lean and lithe, she’s a fighter through and through. Not much of a hand-to-hand specialist, but she’s great with a gun.

  The three Ektons stop talking when I walk into the room. I nod to them before helping myself to a cup of tea and some flavored goop and heading to an empty table in the corner.

  The Ektons aren’t gourmets, and the Zorahn and Draekon members of the crew don’t seem to care what they eat. And most days, neither do I. As long as I don’t go hungry, I’m happy.

  Today though, the sludge seems particularly unappetizing. We really should buy a better syn when we’re in the Heca Exchange. Something with more variety. Either that or get in touch with Kelek ab Rahni. Rumor is that the Zorahn smuggler can procure a syn that will produce pizza.

  Parani walks into the mess, looks around, and makes a beeline for me. “Chief Officer, I need to talk to you,” she says, pulling up a chair and sitting down across from me.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I just talked to the Captain, but I wanted to tell you as well. I’m quitting. I’ll be leaving the Mahala as soon as we arrive at the Heca Exchange.”

  “What?” I swallow the scalding tea too fast, and it burns all the way down my throat. “You are? Is it because of what I said?”

  She looks puzzled. “What did you say?”

  “Umm, remember when Fourth came on the ship? I snapped at you.”

  “You did?”

  She has no idea what I’m talking about. “Never mind. Why are you leaving?”

  Her mouth opens in a snarl. “I understand why the Captain went to Besep 3,” she says. “Zabek is his son. Those are important bonds. But Zabek was responsible for the death of my kin. A raid he was in charge of went badly wrong. My sister sacrificed herself so that he could escape.” She shoots him a poisonous look. “The father wouldn’t have left. He would have fought side-by-side with his people. Not so the son.” She stares at me. “The son is unworthy. I cannot work here if he’s allowed to remain. I’ve explained myself to the Captain; he understands my decision.”

  I don’t know what to say. “I’ll be sorry to lose you. If you need us to drop you off somewhere other than the Heca Exchange—”

  “That won’t be necessary.” She lowers her voice. “Chief Officer, this is not my place, but a word of warning. After the incident on Shamak, the Captain finally saw his son for who he really is. But Zabek’s been gone a while, and the Captain is facing the end of his career, and I’m afraid he might be allowing himself to forget the damage his son caused. Watch your back. Zabek wants your job, and he’ll do anything to get it.”

  I’m conflicted. I don’t want to lose my job to Zabek. I want to stay on the Mahala. This has become my home, and these people have become my family.

  But everything I have, it’s because Thel gave it to me. If he wants to give it back to Zabek, do I have any right to protest? No, of course not.

  Parani isn’t telling me anything I don’t know, but I’m grateful anyway. She didn’t have to stick her neck out to warn me.

  She’s waiting for an answer. She probably wants me to announce that I’m going to kick Zabek’s ass, or something similarly dramatic. “All I can do is my job. The rest doesn’t matter.”

  “All you can do is your job?” A caustic male voice cuts in. I look up to see Zabek looming over me. “From what I’ve been hearing all morning, you’re terrible at it. What kind of self-respecting pirate allows someone to steal from her? Fourth should be dead by now. Instead, he’s alive and well.”

  This guy. This fucking guy. Yes, Mirak is the most aggravating person in the galaxy, and yes, he did steal from us. My failure at Neiptiun still rankles. But Zabek doesn’t get to insult Mirak. Not when the Draekon saved his life. “Without Fourth, none of us would have walked out alive yesterday,” I reply evenly. “Something you seem to have conveniently forgotten.”

  Thel limps into the room at that moment. He looks over at us. My cheeks are flushed, and my right hand is at my thigh, my fingers curled over the hilt of a throwing knife. Zabek is looming over me, his eyes flashing with rage.

  “Is something the matter?” Thel asks.

  Zabek gives me a hateful look before turning to his father. “Diana and I were just having a little chat. Weren’t we?”

  It would be so much easier if the hostilities were out in the open. I’d kick Zabek’s ass in a fight. He won’t catch the knife I’d hurl in his face; I’m willing to bet his reflexes aren’t anywhere as fast as Mirak’s.

  Stop thinking of Mirak, Diana.

  Zabek’s question hangs in the air.

  This is my fight. I can’t run to Thel for every little squabble. Even if I thought it would help the situation, I still wouldn’t do it. Stress worsens Thel’s symptoms. He’s already spent too many nights in a healing tank. I have no desire to add to his worries. “We were,” I reply. “Just a nice, friendly conversation.” I get to my feet, pushing the half-eaten bowl of slop away. “Excuse me. I’m due on the bridge.”

  Zabek’s strategy is obvious; he’s trying to turn the crew against me, starting with Azeer and Sina. I have to watch my back.

  Good thing I sleep with a knife within easy reach.

  Thel’s son or not, I’m ready to murder Zabek by the time we reach the Heca Exchange. He’s launched Operation: Undermine Diana. He’s questioned the route we’re taking. He’s debated the wisdom of landing on Feram, our usual port. He’s complained that the quote we received for repairs is too high. He’s grumbled about the roster assignments, the work schedule, and the division of labor
. Basically, as soon as Thel is out of earshot, he throws himself into questioning my authority.

  And Thel is out of earshot a lot. Either because he over-exerted himself on Besep 3, or because this is the natural progression of his illness, or a combination of the above, he spends most of the trip in a healing tank.

  All in all, by the time we land on Heca, I’m cranky, deeply irritable, and ready to call off my date. It doesn’t help that I have nothing to wear, just my Ekton uniform. After pulling out every piece of clothing I own and realizing that the vast majority of them are grey, I knock on Lisa’s door.

  She opens it. “Let me guess,” she quips. “You’re sick of Zabek, you want to throw something at his head, and you’re here for a drink. Come on in, I have you covered.”

  I enter her quarters. She waves me to the only chair. “How are you holding up, Diana?” she asks sympathetically.

  I don’t really want to talk about it, but I don’t have the heart to snap at Lisa. “I’m fine.” She holds up a bottle, and I shake my head. “I mean, I am sick of Zabek. But that’s not why I’m here.” I feel my cheeks heat. “Can I borrow something to wear?”

  “To wear?”

  This is so awkward. I mean, I like Lisa, but we’re not best friends or anything. I’m used to keeping people at a distance. But right now, she’s the only person on the Mahala that might be able to help me. “I have a date.”

  Her eyes widen. “You do?”

  Kill me now.

  She whistles under her breath. “Good for you,” she says. “Let me see what I can do.” Her smile turns sly. “You’re welcome to anything in my closet on one condition.”

  “Which is?” I ask warily.

  “You tell me who you’re going out with.”

  I’m about to tell her to forget the entire thing when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look like a dystopian hellscape. “Fine,” I mutter, not meeting her eyes. “Fourth and I are having a drink.”