The Snare (Huntress of the Star Empire Episodes 4-6)
Page 14
“And how do you plan to discover the source of this rot?” Enlightenment stroked his throat blaze. “You don’t believe our lovely Huntress is simply going to uncollar you and turn you loose in government archives, do you?”
“Naturally not. I have a backup plan.” And as long as she’s on time, I’ll be fine. The unscheduled stop on Guerre had proven to be something of a blessing. If he could stall long enough, he could lose the time she made up in the “shortcut” jumps that had taken them to Guerre in the first place.
“Well, my friend,” Enlightenment said behind a yawn and a stretch and flex of his clawed forelimbs, “I don’t envy you your mission on that front. I shall leave you now and take some much-deserved rest. I have a hunch that I’m about to get some very interesting customers in the near future, and some of my inventory would be best…removed from catalogue.”
“I understand,” Micah said. “Thanks for the wine. It’s done me more good than you know.” He glanced over at the sleeping Huntress. Her skin was even paler than before, if that were possible. He hoped it wasn’t a sign of something serious. He needed her alive as much as she needed him.
Enlightenment slinked through the narrow archway into his other room and Micah swirled the last of the wine around in his cup. If Xenna were around, he’d pour it over her skin to warm it. He eyed the Vice Hunter and wondered if the wine would freeze if poured over Treska’s skin.
He finished the wine and leaned back on the pillows, his hands behind his head. Beside him, Treska sighed in her sleep. She was quite lovely when she wasn’t sneering or snarling at him. Her features retained a kind of classical beauty that bespoke innocence. But he could also see the network of fine scarring that went into the roots of her hair, and the discreet implants in different places on her body. Indelible evidence of the way she’d been broken, and the painstaking effort it had taken to rebuild her.
She drifted for a while, rousing again when the Mauw rose and dimmed the lights, murmuring softly about parts dealing being an all-hours business. She turned on her other side, hoping that having her back to Micah would make it seem like she was alone. Something dug into her ribs and she gave up the attempt at deep sleep and sat up.
“Did we disturb you?” Micah asked.
She rubbed her eyes. “No,” she murmured. “This did.” She pulled the lotus bowl out from under one of the pillows. “I found it while we were searching for the actuator.”
“A lotus bowl?”
She shrugged. “It was in a pile. Enlightenment let me keep it. What d’you think it’s for?”
Micah took the bowl from her. “I don’t think. I know.”
“Frotz. Not you too,” she said, remembering Enlightenment’s admission. “What is it, a bowl for serving snacks at an orgy?”
“What do you mean, ‘not me too?’ And no, it’s not for serving snacks.” He turned the bowl over in his hands, long fingers tracing the etchwork along the sloped surface.
“Just that everybody I meet lately seems to have had a perverted encounter with a Hathori. Or rather, more than one Hathori.”
When he didn’t answer right away, she threw up her hands. “See?” She flopped back down on the pillows. “The entire Union’s going to rack and ruin without me there to keep it in line.”
He looked down at her. When did he get so close? “Full of ourselves, aren’t we?”
A dull ache started in her forehead. She blinked a few times to return him to focus. “What was it like?” she asked, her voice barely audible to even her own ears.
A crease appeared between his eyebrows. “What...are you asking me?”
Her tongue ran away from her control. “What was it like—with the Hathori.”
His eyes were really very blue. A little smile curved his lips upward. “I’m not telling you about my experiences with Hathori.”
She put her hand on the bowl. “Then tell me what this does.” Suns knew why it was so damn important to her. Some old plate junked by a people who were all but outlawed outside their homeworld. A people whose very existence centered around the behavior that invited risk. Only—they had created a thing of cleverness and beauty in the bowl, and she wanted to understand.
His eyes searched hers. She made a game attempt at keeping her own focused for as long as she could. Finally, he placed his other hand on the rim of the bowl and gave it a twist. “The renowned Hathori liqueur is called Emera.”
She nodded and licked dry lips. “It’s green,” she said. “And it reacts with their skin.”
“There is a ceremony where a Hathori hostess—a priestess or acolyte in the temple—will pour the wine down her arm in such a way that the trickles dance from the tips of her fingers into cups for her companions. Emera becomes a potent aphrodisiac when it contacts the skin of a Hathori.”
“Enlightenment told me as much,” she said. “But the bowl didn’t come in anywhere.”
“The lotus bowl is from an earlier time,” he said. “As the historians tell it, the Hathori used to serve Emera after it was poured over the entire body of an acolyte. Depending on the client’s offerings to the pleasure goddess, the client received his or her Emera from a different part of the acolyte’s body. The Emera collected in the lotus bowl, however, was reserved for the most respected of clients.” His voice had gone soft and he fingered the bowl thoughtfully.
A sudden tightness gripped her chest. Isn’t this how Vice corrupts? Lulls you into carelessness? Exposes you and leaves you as ripe for picking as a—as a Tenrayan grape. And just as ready to be smashed.
This new, softer side of Treska unnerved him. The unconscious physical attraction between them was one thing. One thing he was equipped to handle—he saw little shame or discomfort in physical attraction to someone else. The body’s response to physical attraction was nothing to be feared or misunderstood. But the intimacy of seeing another side of her—a side not cut and pieced and hardened off by New Morality sculptors—bound him to her more firmly than any set of repulsor cuffs.
“And where, exactly, did the lotus bowl collect the Emera from?”
“Only the most potent Emera found its way into the lotus bowl.” He lifted his hand. Her eyes grew unfocused as she followed his finger. He touched her collarbone. “Starting here, the Emera makes its way down here—” He traced a line from her collarbone, down to the valley between her breasts. “And all the way down—”
A deep sigh from her cut through the haze in his brain. He jerked his hand away, shocked that he’d been about to touch her intimately, and doubly shocked at her lack of protest.
Then he saw why. Her chin rested on her chest. Her eyes closed and her jaw slackened, she clutched the bowl with one hand and tucked the other between her head and shoulder. And she began to snore. “Ahh, lovely Treska,” he murmured. “If only you weren’t so quick to hate.”
***
Micah’s chance to strike reveals a devastating twist in the Union’s power structure when he discovers the secret of Treska’s past may hold the key to breaking the Union’s uncanny stranglehold on the star system. When a Union battle cruiser offers unexpected assistance, Treska discovers her beloved Union’s help doesn’t come without strings attached. Strings that pull her into a web of deceit whose center holds the secret of her own identity.
Thank You
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed your stay in the Star Empire, and are ready for further adventures with Treska, Micah, and their friends and rivals. Don’t forget to subscribe to the newsletter at bit.ly/AthenaNews to stay updated.
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Thank you so much for reading Season One and for allowing me to entertain you for a few hours.
&nb
sp; Warmest regards,
Athena
Huntress of the Star Empire
The Complete Season One
Binge-read with the Bundles:
The Chase (Episodes 1-3)
The Snare (Episodes 4-6)
The Catch (Episodes 7-9)
The Release (Episodes 10-12)