by evil wind
"And she is a warrioress of the first degree,” the 2-I-C reminded his captain.
"True and I suppose a man could do worse than Zainabu Waberi,” Kamau agreed.
His second in command sidled over to him and leaned closer. “And then there is the factor of Demissie Waberi. To have the arms dealer indebted to you for taking his sister off his hands...."
Kamau waved a dismissive hand. “Demissie has no great affection for Zainabu. What does he care with whom the woman Joins?"
"As eldest brother, he would be required to make the dowry since their father is deceased,” the 2-I-C
said slyly. “To know it would be unnecessary since she will Join with a member of the royal household...."
Kamau nodded. “I see your point but still, the woman is bossy."
"But worthy of a warrior such as yourself."
"Aye, she could hold her own if I do not cripple her first,” the Necromanian prince commented. He tapped a long dark finger on the chair arm. After a long inner discussion with himself, he looked up at his second in command. “Ask the princess if she would make herself available for an intimate dialogue between us when we arrive on Corinth."
* * * *
Corydon Cree had finally found the time and the opportunity to approach the Amazeen Major. His shoulder had healed quickly but it was still a bit stiff as he walked up beside Kahmal and he was holding that arm with his other hand. Stiffening as the Reaper bent toward her and gave her neck a long sniff, Kahmal turned to glare at him, her eyes flashing. “What is it you do?” she demanded.
"You smell of mangoes,” Corydon said. “I like mangoes.” His amber eyes glittered.
"Get away from me, Reaper,” Kahmal snapped, stepping back.
His gaze wandered over her red hair. “And I've always been partial to red heads."
Kahmal lifted her chin. “Stay away from me,” she said and spun around.
"You're going to be mine, you know,” Corydon said in a slow, sultry drawl.
The Amazeen pivoted around—eyes wide and fists doubled at her side.
Corydon nodded. “I marked you as mine the moment I saw you in the Titaness, wench. There will be no denying me."
Her hackles raised, Kahmal walked back over to him and stood toe to toe with the Reaper. He was only marginally taller than her, but his muscular body seemed to overpower hers. Against him, she felt almost petite.
"Let us get two things straight, Reaper,” she said, her upper lip arched with irritation. “I am an Amazeen and..."
"I am a Reaper,” he said as though that trumped her claim.
Eyes narrowed now with annoyance, Kahmal could feel the heat of his body pulsing toward hers, and something moved in the pit of her belly.
"What's number two, sweetness?” he purred, moving so that his lips nearly touched hers.
I am...” Kahmal said then suddenly found herself lost in the golden depths of his brilliant gaze. “I am..."
"You are what?” he repeated and allowed the very softest of touches of his mouth to hers.
Kahmal shuddered from head to toe, her body trembling like that of a wet feline shaking off water.
"I am...” Kahmal was unaware her voice had gone down several octaves and had become husky. She was staring into his handsome face that looked so much like Kamerone Cree's.
"Aye?” he taunted—his voice no more than a growl—and once more touched his lips to hers.
"I am..."
"You are mine,” Corydon Cree finally stated and released the hold on his injured arm to snake his other arm around her waist and draw her up against him hard. His mouth slanted over hers and his tongue slipped unerringly past her surprised lips to duel with hers.
Everyone on the bridge had stilled and a pin could have been heard dropping from three decks away.
"She's a goner,” Sern whispered and became aware of Taegin Kullen giving her a look she found unsettling. He was staring intently at her, his dark eyes narrowed slightly. She, too, shuddered and turned away, unhappy the Reaper was watching her. It was then she noticed the others and blinked.
Augenia Deon was watching Eachan Gehdrin. Renata Aegean had her eye on Rylan Cree while Melankhoia Chanz was smiling tartly at Rylan's twin, Braiden. Cedilla Tyrian couldn't seem to drag her gaze from Toryn Belial and Danielle—the first female Reaper Sern had ever seen—appeared to be drowning beneath the heated stare of Killian Kiel. The other three Reapers—Comyn Coure, Kaelin Cree, and Ghrian Tohre looked very unhappy that no woman was glancing their way.
Once more Sern turned her gaze to the man who had hurt her so badly in the Titaness. His psychic power had nearly driven her to her knees, and he had seemed unrepentant about having used it so brutally against her.
"I thought you were the enemy," he sent to her but no smile, no look of regret shifted over his dark face. His gaze was locked on her.
"All women are your enemies," she flung his words back at him.
Taegin shrugged. "Perhaps not all."
Sern felt the old werebeast rubbing against her leg to get her attention and looked away from the Reaper. She put her hand on Ceatie's broad head and patted him. “He's trouble, Ceatie,” she said softly to the beast.
"He's trying to apologize," came the words from across the bridge.
Sern snapped her head back toward Kullen. "And not doing a very good job of it!"
Kullen's face softened just a little, and his eyes took on a strange, bleak look. "He's had no practice.
Mayhap you can cut him a little slack, wench."
Sern sniffed and looked down at Ceatie. “What do you think, my friend?” she asked the werebeast.
“Should I cut him some slack or ignore the arrogant prick?"
Ceatie yawned widely then lay down, turning over on his back with his four huge paws in the air. He waved one giant paw at his mistress and then began purring loudly.
"Traitor,” she named him but from the corner of her eye, she found herself watching every move Taegin Kullen made.
* * * *
"Well, this sucks,” Ghrian Tohre said as he sat leaning against the image deck wall of the Alluvia . He, Comyn Coure and young Kaelan Cree had sauntered off and had found the one place where they did not feel like sore thumbs. In their black silk uniform shirts and black leather pants, they had fashioned a quiet room with low lighting and very cool winds to waft over them and were content enough. "I hear there are women on the DarkWind ,” Comyn commented. “Mayhap one or two will find us as desirable as the Amazeens seem to have found our bloodkin."
Kaelan snorted. He was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, his legs crossed at the ankle, staring down at the black polished boots that encased his feet. “I want a mate of my own. It's not fair they get to play and we don't."
"Did you hear the way the great Admiral Tylan Kahn was fawning over that Diabolusian captain when he came on board the Alluvia to check on the Prime?” Ghrian inquired. “It made my balls ache."
"It made my mouth water,” Kaelin sighed.
"Mayhap they'll let us transport over to the DarkWind and we can go shopping,” Comyn suggested.
Both Ghrian and Kaelan turned toward the man sitting between them and gave him an incredulous look.
"Shopping?” Ghrian inquired. “You think of this as shopping, Tohre?"
Comyn cocked one muscular shoulder. “Isn't that the way it was when the Prime led the Reaper force?” he asked. “You went over to procurement, slapped your credits down, and picked a woman to take back to your quarters.” He sighed. “It was as simple as that."
"What of winning the wench's hand?” Kaelan asked. “Having her want to be with you."
"Wasn't necessary,” Comyn replied. “You bought her and she was yours."
"Huh,” Kaelan commented. “Seems straightforward enough."
"We'll soon be to Corinth,” Ghrian reminded them. “We can take a look at what's for offer on the DarkWind and if there's nothing there, we can graze around amongst the Serenian females. We're boun
d to find something interesting."
"Aye,” Comyn agreed. “That's what we'll do."
The three sat there for awhile longer then Ghrian drew in a long breath then exhaled slowly. “Aye,” he said. “This really sucks."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Troi and Raven rolled by hand and hand and Iyan shook his head. “I never thought to see the day,” he said with a faint look of discomfort. “That just bothers me, you know?"
"Makes you think, though, doesn't it?” Nyndham Dax inquired. He glanced over at Marti Holloway—his co-engineer—and winked.
Iyan swiveled his head toward Marti then cocked a brow at Dax. “Something I should know about there, Dax?” he asked.
"Like what?"
"Like you and Marti?” Iyan encouraged.
Dax grinned. “We're in limited discussion but Helen Bryan and Dakin Hesar are engaged,” he replied.
Iyan blinked. “What?"
"So are Sinjin Wynth and Cathy Atherton."
The second in command of the DarkWind whistled. “When did all that happen?” he asked.
"It's been happening,” Dax replied. “You can't put guys and gals together and not have it happen."
Iyan found himself looking at Barb Fuller. The black woman was giving him a sultry look that sent a shiver down his spine. Neither could enjoy the same kind of relationships the others on board could, but there was a lot to be said about simple companionship. He smiled gently at Barb and she smiled back.
“Aye, I think I know what you mean."
"So, Troilus,” Dakin Hesar said to the ‘bots as they moved past his communications desk, “you and Raven seem to have hit it off."
Troi swayed its upper body back and forth. “'I have great comfort from this fellow',” the cybot declared.
"'In that chamber was I born',” Raven said with a sigh, nudging its plastiform head toward the places where it and Troi recharged.
"Everybody seems to have someone except me and Pat,” Lisa Mahon quipped. She eyed Hern Belvoir who shook his head.
"Sorry, pretty one. André and I have women back on Terra,” he told her. “Mine is a friend of the Prime."
"That's okay, guys,” Lisa sighed. “Always a bridesmaid and never a bride,” she said.
"Tell me about it,” Pat complained.
Iyan reminded his crew they were about to enter the gravitational pull of his home planet of Serenia. The entrance to the underground city of Corinth was fifteen minutes away.
"The StarRaider will go in first and then we'll follow. After us will be the Alluvia , the Pantera and then the Necromanian ship will dock last. I want those going with us to Terra on the StarRaider as quickly as possible. The crew from the Orion is standing by—at least those preferring to leave—so let's make this changeover as smooth as possible."
Watching Raphaella taking the enormous StarRaider through its paces made Iyan nervous but Sinjin kept reminding McGregor that it was most likely his sister who was in charge of seeing the big bird into its docking harness safely and not the flighty Amazeen.
"There are some really good women flyers on the Ailith ,” Sinjin said.
"The what?” Iyan demanded.
"That's what I heard her telling the Serenian Command. Apparently that's the name she christened the
‘Raider,” Sinjin answered.
"Well she can just unchristen it,” Iyan snapped. “What the hell kind of name is Ailith ?"
"It means ‘seasoned warrior’ in Chalean,” Dakin Hesar replied with a stony look. “That just so happened to be my grandmother's name and she was a member of the famed Sisterhoods of Drogheda.
It is a highly honored and honorable name."
Iyan's face turned a bit red. “Aye, well, mayhap we'll leave the name, then,” he said.
"It is best not to re-name a ship,” Marti said. “Everybody knows it's unlucky."
"And we don't need any more bad luck,” Nyndham put in.
Expertly maneuvering the DarkWind into its slip and docking harness, Sinjin gave Cathy Atherton a thumbs up. Together, they had settled the ship so sweetly there hadn't even been a bump as the hull came to rest on the titanium mesh harness.
"All right,” Iyan said, getting up from the command chair. “Let's move it, people!"
The Alluvia was coming through the iris and down the wide, long underground tunnel that led to the docking station when Iyan and his crewmen and women exited the DarkWind . Already, Serenians, Ionarians, and a few Chrystallusian techs were swarming into the ship's interior to help remove what would be needed for the long trek to Terra.
"I am anxious to see my friend,” Lares said as he set off down the corrugated ramp way toward which the Alluvia was slowly maneuvering. He had been uncharacteristically silent during the last hour of the voyage to Serenia. Since he had not accompanied Tylan over to the Alluvia to be with Kamerone Cree, he was nervous, worried about the only true friend he had ever known. But his footsteps got slower and slower as the Amazeen ship settled into its berth. He was not as anxious to see Zainabu in person. His ego was still bruised and he feared he would embarrass himself by saying something he shouldn't. He glanced at the Pantera as it just entered the tunnel and winced for the Diabolusian vessel's engine was louder than any he had encountered in quite some time. It made his ears ache.
Cirolia Sern was the first crewwoman from the Alluvia to show herself in the opened hatchway as the Amazeen ship's engines faded into a light hum then died down altogether. She shot Lares a wondering look—realized who he must be—and ducked back inside, her eyes wide.
It was Zainabu who was the first to leave the ship. She came down the gangway, nodded curtly at Lares then turned and headed toward the farther slips—the ones into which the Pantera and Juggernaut, the Necromanian dreadnaught, would dock.
"Bitch,” Lares said under his breath, watching the woman who had been his intended as she strode purposefully away from him as though he'd been nothing more than a dock worker. His teeth ground together.
"You handled that well, Prince Lares,” a tall red haired woman said as she came off the Alluvia. “I am sure Kamerone would have approved."
Lares raised his chin. “I saw no need to act childish,” he said and narrowed his dark eyes. “You are Major Kahmal?"
"I am,” she said and put out her hand, not expecting the Necromanian warrior to accept it, but he surprised her when he engulfed her smaller hand in his and shook it firmly.
"You have my thanks for helping to preserve the life of Cree,” he said.
"Even though it was because of me he was placed in harm's way?” she countered, letting go of the giant man's hand.
"Shit happens,” Lares replied with a white-toothed grin. “How is he?"
Kahmal's smile slipped a notch. “Not well. He is in a great deal of pain. The Healer, Khiershon Cree's woman, is doing all she can to make him comfortable but the Triso no longer has the power to block out his discomfort."
Lares nodded. “To him, it is discomfort. To you and I it would be agony so severe it would drive us to madness."
"I have no doubt of that. He was sleeping for awhile but now that isn't even allowed him,” Kahmal said.
She stepped aside as two of her women left the vessel. “His bloodkin will accompany him off the ship.
Go on in if you like. I need to see to the removal of the Triso and Sustenance from my cargo hold."
Lares nodded and walked up the gangway and into the Amazeen ship. He felt uncomfortable—as most males did who had ever stepped foot inside one of the dreaded ships—but pushed the feeling aside. He saw Dorrie and a wide smile broke upon his dark face.
"You are well, bantling?” he called out to her.
Dorrie shook her head, seemingly having no time to speak to him. She motioned him to follow her as she headed into the opened doors of the elevator.
The Necromanian sprinted after her and the big man barely got inside the cage before the door closed.
“What is happening?” he asked. He looked dow
n at the brace of vac-syringes in Dorrie's hand.
"He was convulsing when I left. I transported over to the DarkWind to get some meds Caitlin hopes will help,” Dorrie replied, her face creased with worry. “These are anti seizure drugs."
"Convulsing?” Lares repeated.
"He woke about two hours ago and started seizing,” Dorrie said as the elevator door's shushed open.
She pushed ahead of Lares at a fast clip down the corridor. “He is in bad shape, Taborn."
Lares followed her, barely noticing the young men standing outside the door to the room into which she led him. His subconscious noted the men were Reapers by their uniforms and knew they were Cree's bloodkin. He came to an abrupt stop as he saw Tylan and Khiershon bent over, forcibly holding the Prime Reaper to the bed upon which he was thrashing.
Caitlin was checking the fluids that were dripping from an IV into Cree's arm and adjusting the flow. She didn't even look over as Dorrie came in and began injecting the contents of the first vac-syringe directly into the Reaper's straining neck.
"God, hold him still!” Dorrie snapped. “I don't want to break the needle off in his vein!"
"Adjust those lights so she can see, Renata,” Caitlin ordered and the Amazeen directed the bright light down on the side of Cree's neck.
Tylan was grunting as he put his entire weight into trying to keep Cree pressed to the bed. “Get your ass over here, Taborn!” he ordered. “This is like trying to rope a gods-be-damned tornado!"
Khiershon was at the foot of the bed leaning his weight on his father's ankles as Lares shot around him and grabbed one of Cree's arms out of Tylan's rigid grip.
"He doesn't know what's happening,” Dorrie told Lares. “He just knows he's in pain."
In his nightmarish state, Cree was struggling against ropes wound around his wrists and ankles.
He was lying on top of a vast expanse of barren rock, tied hand and foot to a jagged plateau whose jutting points were gouging into his bare back. He stared up at the blazing overhead dual suns beating down on him with merciless brilliance and licked at his dry lips, wanting water so badly. He stared blindly up at the woman bending over him checking the reaction of his pupils.
