Alien Hostage

by Tracy St. John

  She turned her attention to Wekniz. “You fight fires? That’s all? You aren’t a real warrior?”

  His voice was even. “Lobam’s periodic droughts inland put many people in danger of flash fires that grow huge. I am glad to protect all those I can.”

  Ket snorted and swigged from a bottle of bohut. Narpok looked pained again, her expression saying she was unimpressed. The soldiers exchanged smirks.

  Falinset glared at the lot of them. He knew Wekniz’s bravery, would hold it in comparison to any other Nobek in a heartbeat. Not a real warrior? Like hell.

  His Nobek showed no sign of being insulted. He knew his worth, thank the ancestors. Falinset’s flash of anger eased. He would follow Wekniz’s example, confident in the knowledge of the fire fighter’s strength.

  From that point the conversation limped on. Narpok’s questions were an interrogation, always with an eye on how Clan Falinset could benefit her tawdry desires. She asked how often they left their isolated little house and went to Nalta City. What the shopping was like there. How often they went to Kalquor. Who their friends were and what kinds of parties did they throw. If Nur could introduce her to the celebrities who sometimes called on him for grooming services.

  Next to Feyom, she was perhaps the most superficial creature Falinset had ever met. With every petty concern she voiced, he felt more and more like pulling Tasha out of her hiding place, shoving her in front of Narpok, and screaming for the silly fool to look at a real woman, someone with substance. He thought he might have loathed Narpok if she hadn’t been too trivial to bother with.

  Mostly he worried about Tasha and Noelle, hiding and waiting for these people to leave. He watched the minutes pass and tried to think of a way to get rid of them. If he dismissed Narpok in a way that was insulting, she and Sitrel would leave and never come back. With the soldiers and Ket watching everything closely – no doubt hoping to find irrefutable proof that the refugees were in the house so they could take them – Falinset and Wekniz had no hope of taking hostages of their own.

  His relief was profound when Narpok finally stood and glanced imperiously at the silent, watchful, and no longer smiling Sitrel. “I am tired. Take me to where I am to stay for the night.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “I thought perhaps you’d like to stay here.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, cousin. This place is too small. There are no servants to wait on me.” She turned to Falinset. “Tell him. What accommodations do you have for guests?”

  He was eager to agree with her on the matter. “One guest room, but it’s not ready because we weren’t expecting—”

  Narpok waved him quiet and turned to Sitrel again. “You see? Oh, this wasn’t planned well at all. A suite in Nalta City would be acceptable.”

  Sitrel barely controlled the dismay and frustration in his tone. “I think you should stay here. Certainly Falinset won’t mind cleaning out his guest room, if that is where you wish to sleep.”

  His intimation was clear. He wanted to make the exchange right now, Narpok for Noelle and Tasha. Falinset felt Wekniz tense next to him, readying for trouble.

  Narpok gave her cousin a stricken look. “Sitrel. How could you think – after what happened to me, of course I would want a guest room.”

  Sitrel paled. Falinset and his clanmates winced. Reminded of the abuse Narpok had suffered at the hands of brutal men, the Dramok realized she would not be quick to visit a strange clan’s sleeping room. Casual sex was probably not something she’d ever indulge in.

  It made him think of all that Tasha had been through. She’d fought back from her trauma rather than let herself be overcome. He felt a strange sense of pride in her strength. It wasn’t that he faulted Narpok for her breakdown – after all, it could certainly be argued Narpok had endured more.

  Narpok cast off the moment of grief with visible determination. She fluttered her fingers dramatically. “No, this place is not what I expected. Dramok Maf has a home near here, does he not? I believe he hosted my father Pwaldur at his vacation home on this moon. And there is an on-call staff?”

  Sitrel bowed to her demands. “Yes, cousin. If that is what you want.”

  “Yes, yes.” She smiled brightly at Clan Falinset, an angel now that she had gotten her way. “I will return at some point. Or perhaps it would be better if you came to see me at your father’s home.” She looked around the room again, her nose wrinkled. “Wonderful taste in décor, truly. I love the rare pieces, but the house is so small. And no servants! Yes, it might be best if you visit me at Maf’s. I will com when I am ready for you.”

  With that, she swept out of the room in a swish of skirts. Sitrel looked at Falinset helplessly.

  Falinset didn’t feel like gloating. He only wanted the lot of them out of his home. “I suppose the exchange will have to be delayed.”

  Sitrel’s expression said he was miserable at the turn of events, but he hurried after Narpok without a word. Meanwhile, Wekniz was on his feet, a snarl curling his lip back as he faced Ket. “You and your men can go with them, or you can explain to Maf why we turned down his generous offer.”

  Ket growled back, “What are you talking about? Ungrateful bastards, you don’t deserve a Matara, not when others have been loyal to the Basma while you’ve rejected him.”

  So that was why he was so irate, Falinset thought. Ket wanted Narpok. He was jealous.

  He needed to get the fool out of his home so Tasha and Noelle could come out of hiding. He went straight for Ket’s pride. “But she is ours. He’s given her to us. She is the price for what he wants, and he only gets what he wants if you take your disgusting carcass out and these fools with you. And stay the fuck out of my home.”

  Ket’s eyes narrowed. Falinset stalked up to him with Wekniz on his heels.

  “Do you want to be the one to tell my father—” he managed not to choke on that vile word “—how you managed to piss me off so bad that I rejected Matara Narpok? Just to spite you?”

  Ket unleashed an explosive string of epithets, but he jerked his head at his men. They left, casting threatening looks at the clan. Ket stormed after them. As he walked past Wekniz, the two Nobeks showed fangs, growling at each other.

  Wekniz followed him out, making certain the group left. Falinset and Nur looked at each other, the surreal situation crashing in. Falinset felt as if the entire universe had been turned upside down.

  * * * *

  Despite Tasha’s cautions to stay quiet, Noelle couldn’t help but whimper at the sound of approaching footsteps. Those whimpers became a sigh of relief at the sound of Nur’s voice: “It’s me.”

  The secret door opened, and the Imdiko looked in at them. Tasha and Noelle exclaimed with relief. The three-year-old asked excitedly, “Are the bad people gone? Is bad man Ket gone away?”

  Nur scooped her up and hugged her tight, his eyes on Tasha. “They’re gone. Let’s all go in the common room.”

  Still carrying the child, he led Tasha out of the cramped secret room that was hidden behind a wall in the closet. He ordered the wall closed after they were out in his private office. Tasha took a deep breath.

  “Was it bad in here?” Nur asked.

  Noelle told him, “I was scared.”

  Tasha gave her a smile filled with pride. “She was good though. She stayed very quiet.”

  It had broken her heart for Noelle to clutch at her in terror, waiting for ‘bad man Ket’ to come in and snatch her away. Tasha’s hatred for the Nobek and Maf had grown by leaps and bounds as they’d waited to either be captured or given the all-clear signal.

  “They didn’t even search the house,” Nur told her as he patted Noelle’s back, comforting her after the scare. “Maf is serious about trying to draw Falinset in before giving up once and for all.”

  “Still, I’m glad you have that room,” Tasha said. As claustrophobic as the space had been, it beat hiding under a vanity or shower. It was as secure a place as one could hope for since it was where the clan locked up their valuabl
es when they took extended leave of their home.

  She noted Nur’s expression kept changing. He gazed at them in concern, but he also showed moments of disbelieving humor and shock when his eyes went distant.

  “Was it Sitrel?” Tasha prodded. “Did he offer you your heart’s desire to get you to give us up?”

  Nur stared at her for a moment. Then he burst out in laughter, making Noelle go wide-eyed in surprise. He laughed so hard that tears ran down his cheeks.

  “Oh, you are not going to believe this,” he gasped when he recovered himself. “Come on. We have so much to tell you, Tasha.”

  With that he headed into the corridor. Tasha hurried after him, following him into the common room where Falinset and Wekniz waited. Like Nur, their expressions fluctuated between worry and barely contained disbelief.

  This was going to be interesting, Tasha thought.

  Chapter 21

  “Narpok? But she’s been catatonic for years!”

  Wekniz’s tone was dry. “Apparently she came out of it.”

  “Just in time to tempt me.”

  The heavy sarcasm in Falinset’s voice made Tasha snort. None of the clan seemed to take the offer of a Kalquorian Matara mate seriously. Tasha drove away the urge to explore why that made her feel so happy.

  She looked over at Noelle, who had left her fright behind as soon as Nur had switched on her vid animal friends. She rolled around among the brightly colored creatures, laughing as they gamboled for her entertainment. She paid no mind to the conversation Tasha and the men whispered in the corner of the room.

  They quickly filled her in on the entire exchange. Listening to the tale, Tasha could well understand why they vacillated between shock, concern, and incredulous hilarity. The situation was unbelievable, the addition of Narpok to the equation beyond belief.

  “Do you think she knows Maf is the Basma?”

  Falinset thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Nothing overt was said, so my guess is no. She’s just in the market for a high-ranking, financially well-off clan with good social connections.”

  Tasha rolled her eyes. “It sounds like she hasn’t changed from who she was before the breakdown. What a shame after all the time Jess and Auntie Tara invested in her.” She looked to Wekniz. “So what are your thoughts? Do you still plan to grab Dramok Sitrel? Narpok might make a better hostage.”

  Falinset and Nur each sucked in a breath. Looks of profound distaste were exchanged. For his part, Wekniz looked as if he struggled for an answer. Finally, the Nobek said, “Taking a woman prisoner, especially one who has suffered as much as Narpok has, is abhorrent to me. Even though she is self-centered, I do not like the idea of victimizing her.”

  Falinset growled, “We are not Maf or Ket.”

  Tasha respected their reluctance to harm Narpok, even if only emotionally. It even made her feel proud of them for some absurd reason. She was ready to concede that they had a point, but Noelle’s well-being was on the line. For Tasha, that trumped the good of everyone else. “Grabbing Narpok as our hostage as well as Sitrel might be the best way to get Noelle on a ship to Kalquor. It depends on how much value Maf puts on their lives … particularly that of a Kalquorian woman.”

  Wekniz frowned, not in an angry but considering way. The expression still turned the scarred side of his face savage. “I suppose you’re right. Narpok is more likely to play on Maf’s sympathies.”

  “If he has any,” Falinset added. “I fear he might decide the Matara is a worthwhile loss to reclaim the princess. By grabbing Narpok, we may sign her death warrant.”

  Tasha didn’t want to agree, but she thought their concerns were well-founded. Though she might be petty and self-absorbed, Narpok did not deserve such a fate. But then, Noelle didn’t deserve what was happening to her either.

  She spoke gently, letting them know she took the negative aspects seriously. “I feel for the position everyone is in. Truly I do. And I admit we’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of success. But to me, the biggest victim in all of this is the smallest. Noelle must be saved if at all possible. So unless you can think of some other way to make it happen, Narpok will have to be a part of our escape plan.”

  The three men looked trapped in the worst snare possible. Tasha felt a rush of affection for them. They respected women, even one they’d never met before today and who’d shown her worst qualities. Clan Falinset was made up of truly decent men.

  The ultimate decision lay with the Dramok, but Falinset looked for his clanmates’ opinions anyway … another quality that endeared him to Tasha. A nerve jumped in Nur’s set jaw, and he looked as if he might vomit. He jerked his head up once and looked away. Wekniz kept his expression stoic, but his hands clenched into fists. He nodded.

  Falinset looked at Tasha grimly. “It’s our best chance. But I’m making it an either-or scenario. If Sitrel returns here without Narpok and we can grab him instead, we will. We’ll do whatever it takes to force him to take us to Kalquor with you and the princess.”

  Tasha wanted to argue the point. Narpok would make a much more desirable hostage. But the stiffness in Falinset’s posture made her realize she’d be wasting her breath. It was repugnant to him and the other two that they might have to use Narpok badly. If she pushed them on the matter, they might decide against keeping it as an option at all. They were that honorable.

  “All right. Whoever we can get, whether it be Sitrel or Narpok, we’ll take it,” she conceded. “As long as we can get Noelle off Lobam and out of the Basma’s clutches.”

  She’d expected to feel settled on the matter, but a new thought occurred to her, one that made sickness slam in her gut. Her expression must have reflected the sudden horror she felt, because Wekniz asked, “What is it, Tasha?”

  “The other women. If Ket hasn’t already killed them, our escape will probably drive him to do so. Particularly if Maf is still trying to keep his activities here a secret.”

  The Nobek’s only concession to anger was his fists again clenching at his sides. “I think he’s on the verge of showing his hand, but you’re right. I doubt keeping those Earthers alive has value to him any longer.”

  “So how—”

  Wekniz shaking his head stopped her question in its tracks. There was an awful finality that killed her voice. “I hate to say it, but there is nothing we can do for them. As you have pointed out, we have to concentrate on getting Noelle home. You as well.”

  That she’d have to leave the abductees behind to their terrible fate swamped Tasha with guilt. She was nothing special. Why should she get to live when Sonia, Amy, and the rest had no chance? It wasn’t fair.

  She told Wekniz, “Concentrate on Noelle. I’m secondary to her.”

  “You’re secondary to no one.” He looked furious again, and his anger was reflected in Falinset and Nur’s faces.

  “My Nobek is right,” Falinset growled. “Getting you to safety is as important as taking care of Princess Noelle. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

  Tasha felt a glow deep inside, one that grew to fill her. They care about me, she thought. It had nothing to do with getting Maf back for all the injustices he’d heaped on them. They were invested in her for her own sake. She knew she could trust that … that she could trust them.

  Feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge were digging their claws into her, trying to get a permanent hold. There wasn’t time for any of that. They were reaching the end game, the moment when they must act and probably die in the process.

  I’ll think about it later, if later comes.

  Trying not to acknowledge the continued warmth inside her heart, the implications of the faith she had in their intentions, Tasha spoke with only a slight waver in her voice. “We have to assume Sitrel and Narpok won’t come without heavy guard, like they did this time.”

  Falinset ran his fingers through his hair, rumpling it. “I tried to warn Ket off, but it may have had no effect. If it comes down to it, we’ll have to overcome Ket and the rest to take Si
trel or Narpok prisoner.”

  Nur sighed, “And here I thought the odds would be impossible.”

  Wekniz gave him a wry smile. “You could always spray them with your cologne. They’ll be too busy choking to fight.”

  Nur managed a chuckle, but Falinset looked at Wekniz with a hint of excitement. “That’s actually not a bad idea, my Nobek.” He abruptly grinned as the rest looked at him in surprise. “Wekniz, I want to see the firefighting equipment you have here at home. Let’s see what we can come up with as far as an offense and go from there.”

  He hurried out of the common room, his face alight. Looking confused, Wekniz and Nur followed. After telling Noelle to call if she needed anything, Tasha rushed after them, wondering what Falinset had in mind. She hoped it was something good.

  * * * *

  Narpok sat on the edge of the sleeping mat in the master sleeping room of Maf’s vacation home. The suite included a dressing room, a lavatory, and a sitting lounge. It was precisely what she’d had in mind as a proper place to stay – at least that was what she’d told Sitrel.

  Yet she did not relax in the sitting room with the luxurious lounger to relax upon, vid entertainment system, and full bar complete with several bottles of leshella. Nor was she attracted to the bath facilities with the sunken pool, massage bed, and sauna. Even the sleeping room, where she sat silently, received none of her attention. The finely carved tables and chairs and draperies were ignored, as were the many closets for her clothes. She’d heaped her gowns on those elegant chairs and scattered her shoes all about, placing them carefully though it looked as though she’d flung her belongings about with no care.

  She sat looking at none of these things. She stared down into her cupped hand, musing over what it held.

  A silvery-steel gray hair lay across her palm. A single hair, seen on the lounger in the common room of Clan Falinset’s home. Narpok’s heart had thudded fit to burst from her chest when she’d spied it. She’d fussed for a ridiculously long time over her skirts to hide it in her pocket.

  No member of Clan Falinset had any gray in their hair. They had no serving staff. Though it wasn’t impossible to imagine someone had visited their home, an elder perhaps, Sitrel had told her they weren’t much for social interaction.