by Lee Savino
She bursts out laughing. “Oh my God,” she says, her shoulders shaking with mirth. “This is so adorable. Did he ask you out before or after he turned into a big scary dragon and tore up everyone who threatened you?” She notices my surprise and gives me a wry smile. “Come on, Diana. Everyone on this ship is a massive gossip. There’s a pool going on when the two of you will kiss, when the two of you will fuck, and when the two of you will marry.”
My mouth falls open. “What?”
“Are you really that surprised?” She grins, amused by the look of shock on my face. “I mean, the electricity between the two of you…” She fans herself. “If you kiss him tonight, you’ll make Maz a very happy man. He’s got a thousand credits riding on this.”
“Maz Krr. Maz, who grunts his replies, whose most intimate relationship is with his gun. That Maz?”
“Who else?” She starts pulling clothes from a rack and throwing them on the unmade bed. Surveying the mess thoughtfully, she pulls out a red dress. A very short red dress. “How about this?”
“Let me guess, you’ve bet that we’ll be fucking tonight.”
She looks unrepentant. “That’s a no on the red dress then.” She rummages through the pile. “What about this one?”
This one is a blue jumpsuit printed with large red flowers. “Where do you get these clothes anyway?” I ask her. “And why?”
“I like clothes,” she replies simply. “And you can find anything in the Exchanges. We’ll be on the Heca Exchange for a couple of days, won’t we? I’ll take you shopping if you’d like.”
“No thanks.” I turn down the jumpsuit—too colorful, I’ll be too visible a target—and pull out a cream blouse. The fabric looks like lace, but it’s not transparent. The sleeves are short and fluttery, and the buttons down the front are a burnt shade of orange. “Can I borrow this? It’s not new, is it?”
“It is new, but you can borrow it anyway.”
I start to protest, and she holds up her hand. “Diana,” she says sternly. “You’re long overdue for a night out. Besides, I don’t like myself in cream; it washes me out. The only reason I bought it was because Hani thought it was pretty.”
“You go shopping with Hani?”
She gives me an amused look. “You’re really not good at interpreting cues, are you? We’ve been together for the last two months. Try it on, see if it fits.”
Oh. That’s why Lisa had looked so worried before our assault on Neiptiun. She’d been worried for Hani’vi. “It was just my father and me for the first fifteen years of my life,” I say apologetically as I undress and slip Lisa’s shirt over my head. The fabric is as soft as silk. “I don’t know how to read people very well.”
“I know. That’s probably why you’re threatened by Zabek.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Look, I’m not a professional. This is me playing amateur therapist. But here’s what I think. You grew up isolated and alone, relying on your father for all your needs. You were starved for affection. You’d have done anything for his approval. Then you get here, and Thel basically adopts us. He becomes a father figure. He teaches you things, the way your dad did. He doesn’t withhold affection. You’ll walk through burning coals for him. Then Zabek comes along, and of course you feel threatened. You’re only human.”
I stare at her. Am I really so damaged?
“Here’s what you need to know, Diana,” she continues. “You are the second-in-command. You have Thel’s unconditional support. Not just Thel. The rest of the crew too. Zabek knows this. He’s just messing with your head. Don’t let him.” She tugs me in front of the mirror. “What do you think?”
I blink at my reflection. It feels weird to not be in grey. “I look different.”
Zabek is messing with my head, though I’m not as sure as she is about Thel’s unconditional support. After all, Zabek is his son, and as the saying goes, blood is thicker than water.
“You look great.” She hands me a gauzy orange wrap. “In case it gets chilly,” she says. “Now, which of my skirts should you wear?” Her eyes sweep the mound of clothing. She picks up a gold skirt that is so short that it’ll barely cover my ass. “What about—”
“I’m just going to wear my uniform pants,” I say hastily.
She gives them a dubious glance. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. Exactly how much money do you have on me getting laid tonight?”
Her lips twitch. “That would be telling. Shoes?” She holds up a pair of sandals.
They’re silver, and they sparkle. They’re so pretty. I really should go shopping with Lisa one of these days. “I’m going to wear my boots,” I say regretfully. “Those are great sandals, but if I run in them, I’ll trip and break my ankle.”
“Running from a Draekon. How far do you think you’ll get?” Her brow furrows. “You’re carrying a weapon, right? Just in case you need to get out.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I have many weapons, and Thel knows where I’m going to be.”
I’m not afraid of Mirak, which is stupid, because he’s about the most dangerous person I’ve ever met. My stores of common sense seem to be running critically low.
11
Mirak
I’m strangely nervous as I wait for Diana to arrive.
Maybe it’s because I’ve never actually been on a date before. Or maybe it’s something else.
I’m not like Kadir. The Second of the Crimson Force was a frequent target of the Supreme Mother’s poisonous rants. It left him believing that he was lesser. Unworthy. It took Alice, the practical, no-nonsense healer from Earth to dispel him of that notion.
Ruhan dated plenty, if you could call it that. But until he met Lani, he kept his heart carefully shielded.
Which of them do I resemble? I’m not sure. Sex has always been a pleasant diversion, not a necessity. I’ve never wanted a woman enough. I’ve never craved someone before. I’ve never been obsessed with anyone, the way I am with Diana. The human woman has invaded every one of my waking thoughts.
I’d been worried about her. More than worried. A sharp edge of panic drove me forward on Besep 3. Running through the tunnels, trying to get to Diana before the Pajeon did, I’d almost lost control.
That’s not good. Terrible things happen when we lose control.
You know that nothing can come of this.
On the journey from Nestri to the Rebellion, Ruhan and I had found time for a quiet chat. Late one night, long after Lani had gone to sleep, the two of us had opened a bottle of taba. We’d talked about many things. We’d touched on the past—the Supreme Mother, the rathr, the relentless waves of death we’d been forced to cause—but mostly, we’d focused on the present. Ruhan’s thoughts had been on the threat posed by First. “He’s determined to exterminate every Draekon in this age,” he’d said, an uncharacteristically grim expression on his face. “What happens when he finds out that practically every Zorahn carries some Draekon genes? Does he kill the entire universe?”
A chill had run through me. Already, First has caused an unprecedented amount of carnage. If he interrogated a scientist and realized the truth, it would be nothing short of a catastrophe. “Let’s hope he never finds out,” I’d muttered fervently.
We’d both lapsed into silence, alone with our dark thoughts. I’d been the first to break the quiet. “He’s not going to stop looking for us,” I’d said. “Why did you—”
“Bring Lani into this?”
“I’m not judging. Really, I’m not. You’re never reckless with the safety of others, just your own. But I am curious.”
He’d taken a sip of his drink and stared into space. “Nothing is guaranteed, Fourth,” he’d said. “First could come for us again. He failed in Nestri. He has every reason to hunt me, to seek revenge.”
“But?”
“But I almost lost Lani to the Okaki pirates. For more than a day, she lay balanced between life and death. The healers counseled me to prepare for the worst.” He dr
ains the rest of his glass and pours himself another shot. “She survived. She’s alive. I have two choices. I can either be afraid, or I can reach out and embrace happiness with a full heart. I choose happiness.”
Lani and Ruhan, Alice and Kadir, they make sense. The human women are perfect for my brothers. But as much as I support their choices, I’m not going to emulate them.
I cannot let something develop between Diana and me. My little spitfire is already living dangerously. She’s Tarish’s secret source, passing on information about Blood Heart’s movements from Theldre’s spy network to the Rebellion. First cannot take a closer look at her.
And he will, if he finds out I’m involved with her.
First is coming for the five of us, the five members of the Crimson Force. We are targets. I cannot voluntarily place another person in the line of fire, and especially not Diana. She is a vulnerability; one I cannot afford.
In that case, why are you here? Why do you keep looking at the door every minute? Why is your heart beating an expectant tattoo against your ribcage?
I asked Diana out, fueled by need and attraction and something else, and that attraction has dulled my common sense. Because I shouldn’t be here. This is a mistake. A tempting, dazzling mistake. I shouldn’t be on the Mahala either. Not for any length of time. Because the longer I’m on that ship, the more I risk that First finds out what she’s doing.
The door swings open, and Diana walks into Zuha. The words of caution dissolve into thin air. All thought flees my brain, and there’s just her.
12
Diana
Zuha doesn’t look like any bar I’ve been to.
Not that I’ve been to a lot of bars in my life. Just one, in fact. At the end of every back-country camping trip, we’d all gather at Pete’s Pub in Finton. The group I led into the wilderness would drink pint after pint to celebrate surviving the great outdoors. It wasn’t much of a pub—the furniture was worn, the jukebox was broken, and the floor was always sticky—but the food was hot and the beer was cold, and after a week of roughing it, everyone was exceedingly glad to be there.
Zuha is tucked in a corner of the main trading market. I walk up to the exterior door, which slides open to reveal a set of stairs heading underground. “I don’t like this,” Maz, who has appointed himself as my bodyguard, grumbles. “Too hard to fight your way out.”
“And here I thought I was the paranoid one.” Mirak is a freaking Draekon. He could have taken me by force from the Mahala, but he respected my decision and walked away. He could have let us die on Besep 3, but instead, he came to our rescue. No, while I might be in danger if a fight breaks out in the bar, every instinct tells me I’m safe from Mirak. “Go back to the ship, Maz. I’m hardly going to win your bet for you if you insist on chaperoning me.”
He looks faintly embarrassed at the mention of the wager. “I’ll stay close,” he says resolutely. “Just in case you need backup.”
I nod acknowledgment and start my way down the stairs. The door at the bottom remains shut, but as soon as I reach it, a man’s face fills the screen to the side. He’s Adrashian. His eyes are large, green and round, and his face is covered with fine red feathers. He takes me in, tries to match me against the list of known species in this part of the galaxy, fails to recognize me, and frowns in confusion. “Do you have a reservation?” he asks in Zor.
He’s fitted with a translator, but it won’t understand English. The only reason anyone on the Mahala understands me is because Soren did some fancy tech voodoo with their devices. “No,” I reply, also in Zor. I’m searching for the words to explain to the Adrashian bouncer that I’m meeting someone here, but before I can say anything else, the door slides open and Mirak stands there.
My breath catches.
Most of our conversations have happened via comm. I’ve only seen Mirak in person twice. And I’ve forgotten how large he is. How big and broad and male.
He’s wearing a cream shirt and black pants. The shirt is snug and hugs his shoulders and chest, showcasing his tightly carved muscles. My mouth goes dry. For an instant, an overwhelming desire to touch him fills me. I itch to trace each and every one of those glorious abs with my tongue. Peel off his shirt, and then mine…
“Diana.” There’s a smile in his eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He runs his gaze over me, and his lips tug up. “We seem to have coordinated our clothing.”
That breaks the tension. I look at his cream and black outfit, and at mine, and I start to laugh. “Awkward.”
“Mmm.” He holds out his hand to me, and I take it. When we touch—for the first time—a spark of electricity runs through me. It’s just your imagination, Diana, I say to myself. It’s been a really long time since you’ve had sex.
Except Mirak seems to feel it too. He’s looking down at me, a preoccupied frown on his face. “Is something the matter?”
“It’s the…” He shakes his head and gives me another warm smile. “Never mind. It’s nothing.” The Adrashian starts to walk down a corridor, and we follow him. “You look beautiful.”
He’s still holding my hand. I should pull free, but I don’t. Mirak’s touch is warm. In his grip, I feel safe and secure. I don’t have to be on guard tonight. I don’t have to scout the room for danger. I don’t need to be alert against threats. Tonight, I can relax, because I’m on a date with a Draekon, an apex predator, and whatever happens, he’ll take care of me.
It’s a surprisingly good feeling. I shouldn’t get used to it.
The walkway ends, and we emerge in a massive, softly lit room. I look around. Even though we’re underground, it doesn’t feel the slightest bit claustrophobic. The ceilings are high, and when I look up, I see stars. Either the ceiling is mirroring the outside night sky, or it’s made of glass.
I spend so much time flying around in space. I rarely stop to look at the stars.
Shaking my head, I banish the sense of magic that’s coursing through my blood. I tug my hand free of Mirak’s as the Adrashian shows us to our circular booth and sit down. “Why didn’t you think I’d come? I’m not afraid of you.”
“You have no reason to be.” He slides into the booth as well. He’s big, and the booth is small, and our knees touch under the table. “I’m completely harmless.”
“Ha.”
He grins. “Okay, that’s a lie.” His fingers hover over the small screen set into the tabletop. “What would you like to drink?”
“I don’t know. Whenever we’re at a port, Lisa goes exploring, but I’ve never found the time. I have no idea what people drink in the Heca Exchange.” I grimace. “God, I sound both boring and whiny. Woe is me, I’m the second-in-command of a pirate ship, and I have to keep an eye on the Mahala and make sure the technicians don’t rip us off.” And now I’m babbling. Somebody kill me. “I’ll have some Vabrian, if they have it.”
“They have everything.” Mirak punches in our order. I look around as we wait for our drinks to arrive. The booths ring a submerged stage. Drones fly through the air, delivering food and drinks to the patrons, none of who I can see, because the booths are privacy-shielded. One of them heads toward us, lowers a bottle and two glasses onto the table, and zooms away.
Mirak activates our privacy shield. Nobody outside our booth can see or hear us. We’re surrounded by people, but we are completely alone. A shiver runs down my spine. Fear? Or anticipation?
I gesture to the bottle. “Are you planning on getting me drunk?”
His eyes run over me. “Your hair pins are as sharp as daggers,” he says. “The cuffs around your wrists shoot poisoned darts. The ring on your finger will release a puff of neurotoxin. Then there’s the usual collection of knives you wear on your person.” His lips tilt up and he smiles in genuine amusement. “I’m definitely not getting you drunk, spitfire. I wouldn’t want you to use those weapons by mistake.”
Damn it. I expected him to identify the hair pins—he’s not stupid. But he shouldn’t have noticed the ring. Then again, I should
know from experience not to underestimate Mirak. “Trust me, when I throw a poisoned dart at you, it won’t be an accident.”
He laughs and pours me some Vabrian. I lean back in my seat. My knees are still touching his, and I’m trying not to notice. “Tell me about yourself.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “What do you want to know?”
Everything. Mirak is Draekon. He turns into a dragon. He breathes fire. Can he control it, or is it raw, animal instinct? Then there’s the fact that he was made in a lab, engineered to be the perfect soldier. I have so many questions about that. And he’s been in stasis for a thousand years. I find everything about him fascinating.
But those things were done to him without his consent. I don’t want to force him to relive what might be a dark memory.
“Why do you speak Old Ektona?”
“It’s a fiendishly difficult language, isn’t it?” He leans forward, his entire focus on me. “A long time ago, I was apprenticed to an Ekton navigator.”
I wait for him to continue. He takes a sip of his drink. “The Zorahn set out to create the perfect soldier,” he says. “We were all powerful, of course. We all got strength, the ability to fly, the ability to heal faster, all that stuff. But they kept experimenting. With each of us, they tried something different. I’ve already told you this, haven’t I? Kadir—Second—can read emotions.”
“Is that a useful skill in a soldier?”
“Very much so. Kadir can look at a group of people and tell you who is most likely to break. He can survey an army and identify the general that’s going to fuck up. It’s a very handy skill.” His fingers brush my palm absently. “Ruhan can hack into anything, which is useful for obvious reasons.”
“And you navigate by instinct.”
“I can. But instinct is no substitute for training and experience. I spent three years with Baderre.”
“Did they ever ask you what you wanted?”
