“Where is she?” Errol asked flatly, ignoring the admiral’s jibe.
“She’s safe.” The admiral may be a pet to the patriarchs, but he had rejected the vanities that came with such a position—no braids, no inlay on his fangs, dressed in only a regulation uniform. There was a gravity to his tone and a directness in his gaze that told Errol he could at least trust the other Scaeven’s word.
Some of the tension drained from his shoulders.
“So, tell me, Enforcer—did you win her trust before you intoxicated her? Or did you simply—”
Rage bloomed in Errol’s chest, and he slammed a vicious fist against the glass. “I would never hurt her!”
The admiral’s cold gaze fell to the fine hairline fracture that appeared in glass, and the bright smear of blood. His gaze rose to meet Errol’s, and another unfriendly smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, revealing the tip of one fang.
Errol cursed himself for revealing his weakness. “Why don’t you tell me, Admiral,” he said raggedly, mind whirling as he struggled to gain some kind of upper hand, “why such a high-ranking military commander is doing the grunt work of a low-level Enforcer?”
The admiral’s grin faded.
“Who has the power to send a fleet commander chasing after some inconsequential nobody?”
The admiral’s gaze hardened. “I serve only Scaevos.”
“Commendable,” Errol said coldly, skeptically.
The admiral was silent, his hard face expressionless. After a terse moment, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but was interrupted by a soft sound echoing from inside the bulkhead. Both he and Errol tilted their heads, listening. Errol realized what he was hearing a heartbeat before comprehension dawned on the admiral’s face.
Hadiza. Seven fucking moons—she was in the vents.
“You know,” the Admiral said conversationally, with another one of his cold smiles. “They are lovely to look at, I’ll grant you that.”
Errol’s hands curled into shaking fists. He barely registered the admiral’s words as he strained to listen for the muffled sound of Hadiza’s progress through the bulkhead.
The admiral strode casually down the lane between cells, stopping just below the vent to the air recycler. “But I couldn’t understand the risks they’ve inspired. Why would somebody put their life, their freedom, and their inheritance on the line just for some pretty little thing? One mate’s as good as another, really. The matebond is just as strong with a scaly, cold-blooded Ljarken female as it is with one of those plush little humans.” He reached up, and deftly removed the fasteners that held the vent cover in place. “Or so I’m told.”
Errol’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. He swallowed again and again, choking back the warning shout that kept trying to claw its way out of his throat. Hadiza, run! Get away from here! But where would she run to? There was nowhere for her to go. And, though he’d already betrayed himself, it was best if he didn’t demonstrate how damnably obsessed he was with the “plush little human.”
“But I think I understand now.” The admiral pocketed the fasteners. He waited patiently beneath the vent cover. “They are immensely amusing, aren’t they? Why would such a fragile, hopelessly outmatched creature go to such absurd lengths?”
Shhf. Shhf. Shhf. Hadiza’s shuffling progress drew nearer. Errol could hear the labored rasp of her breath now.
“She tried to fight the ensigns,” the admiral continued, watching the vent cover with patient bemusement. “When they cuffed you. Nimble little thing nearly got past them—though what she expected to accomplish is beyond me.”
Shhf. Shhf. Shhf. Hadiza was directly overhead now, moving inexorably toward the unfastened vent cover.
“Then, she tried to bite the gunner when he got ahold of her. He’s lucky she missed. Those flat little teeth of theirs have plenty of bite force behind them.” He grinned, looking, for the first time, genuinely amused. “And now—”
The vent cover banged open and Hadiza dropped through the opening with a surprised yelp. The admiral caught her with graceful ease, hauling her squirming body tightly against his chest.
Red bloomed over Errol’s vision, and he slammed his fists against the glass again—and again and again. The hairline crack spread with each blow, spidering out wider and deeper.
“Errol stop!”
Hadiza’s voice cut through his rage. The admiral set her on her feet, and some of the red receded from his vision.
Hadiza approached the glass. She reached up, trailing her fingers over the places where his blood streaked. “You’re hurting yourself,” she reproached.
“You could have been hurt,” he snarled through gusting breaths. He spread his palms flat against the glass, chest heaving as he pressed against it. Blood and sweat smeared beneath his hands. “Crawling through the vents! Do you know where they terminate? In the fucking incinerator!”
“Ah. That explains the heat.” She swiped at her brow, and for first time, Errol realized she was drenched with sweat. He inhaled, and the potent scent of her filled his head. But this time, he wasn’t overtaken by power of her pheromonal signature. Hers was the most delicious scent he’d ever encountered, but instead of going mad with the need to take her, he simply drew in another deep lungful, letting the scent of her fill him, steady him. She was still beautiful, still exquisitely perfect. But he was still in control of himself. Was it the danger of their situation? Danger had never dampened the debilitating need before. And why wasn’t the admiral losing his mind over the sight and scent of her? She was standing there, radiating body heat, her soft skin shining and flush from exertion. She was dressed in the thickly woven, tightly fitted thermal trousers that showed off the sleek lines of her legs and the curve of her ass, and a red Bijari cashmere sweater that draped over her soft curves with breathtaking devotion.
But the admiral only regarded her with patronizing bemusement. His gaze lifted to Errol’s. “Almost painfully beautiful,” he observed in a pleasant tone, speaking in Scaeven. “But the true lure must be in their entertainment value. I can’t imagine a Yiruban female crawling through a ship’s air vents. How undignified. But your intrepid little human didn’t think twice, did she?”
Errol’s gaze was fixed on Hadiza. She stood at the glass, ignoring the admiral, watching Errol. Her big brown eyes were troubled as she searched his face. Errol slid his hand to the glass where hers still lingered, leaving a streak of blood in its wake.
“The admiral will keep you safe,” he said in the Creole. “I trust him to do that.”
Over Hadiza’s shoulder, the admiral straightened in surprise.
“Promise me you’ll stay put.”
Hadiza scowled. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Errol, I’m obviously going to worry about you. What’s going to happen—”
“Your Enforcer will face a tribunal for his violation of the human ban,” the admiral cut in, speaking in the Creole. “And you will be placed into protective custody until it can be determined whether you’ve matebonded to him or not.”
Hadiza’s eyes went wide, her hand dropping to her stomach.
Please, he though desperately. Let her be mine. Not for the blanket pardon it would grant him—but only because he couldn’t live without her.
Hadiza whirled to face off with the admiral. “And what does ‘protective custody’ entail?” she demanded.
Another Scaeven prison. Errol’s heart ached at the continuous mistreatment she’d endured at the hands of his people. Even if she were matebonded to him, could she ever forgive the way she’d been brought into his world? In her position, he wouldn’t have been able to.
“Asier Mor-Talis is a Scaeven Enforcer with a human mate and another human ward,” the admiral said. He enunciated Asier’s name with a careful precision that spoke of dislike. “He can be trusted to look after you.”
A weight lifted from Errol’s chest. Yes. Asier could be trusted. And Hadiza would be with her own kind. I
t was more than he could have hoped for.
“Go with the admiral, Hadiza.”
She turned one last, mournful look on him. Her soft, sweet eyes cut him to the bone. He would’ve done anything to protect her, to reassure her. But he was trapped and powerless, separated from her by three fingers of security glass. He had to trust that, despite whatever patriarch was pulling his strings, the admiral would be true to his word and keep Hadiza safe.
The big Scaeven led her from the brig. The hatch closed and sealed behind them. Errol was alone.
Chapter Fourteen
Leo Cluster, NGC 3842
Scaevos Multi-body System, Varan Moon
IG Standard Calendar 236.46.21
Hadiza allowed herself to be led away only because she knew Errol would go crazy if he had to watch her be dragged out. Instead of returning her to the locked berth, the Scaeven he’d called the admiral led her to the ship’s control cabin. Two other uniformed Scaevens occupied the brightly lit, heavily fortified space, manipulating and assessing computronics and instrumentation beyond Hadiza’s comprehension. Instrument panels displayed Crurian numerals and Scaeven glyphs.
The working Scaevens glanced at her, each of them doing a double take. After a wary glance at the admiral, they returned to their work. The admiral led her to the wide, curving bank of windows overlooking the massive ship’s nose. It was the perfect vantage point to watch the quickly approaching gas giant planet with its multiple rings and myriad of moons. The planet swirled with layers of white, purple, blue, and gray. Storms formed giant knots within the gaseous layers.
“If you can promise not to attempt any clever sabotage, you may wait out the remainder of the journey here.” He gestured at an empty pilots chair.
Hadiza glanced uncertainly at the other two Scaevens.
“They’re no threat to you,” the admiral said. Hadiza though he sounded annoyed, but he spoke the Creole with such a deep, rasping gravel that it was difficult to isolate emotional inflections. “Unlike Enforcement agents, the males in my fleet have some self-control. I don’t tolerate that kind of weakness.”
Hadiza felt a flare of insulted rage on Errol’s behalf, but she said nothing.
“We’ll reach Varan soon,” the admiral told her before striding away.
Even without projecting a bridge, the ship moved faster than anything she’d ever been aboard. They closed in on the largest of the gas giant’s moons in what felt like an hour. A human vessel would have taken nearly an entire Earth standard day to cover that distance.
The ship slowed just outside Varan’s atmosphere. From orbit, Varan looked similar to images Hadiza had seen of Earth. Lush green continents sprawled between wide expanses of blue ocean.
The admiral led Hadiza through the ship, to the flight deck, where he helped her into a small two-seat shuttle. She clambered into the far seat and fastened the restraints, overcome with a sickening wave of deja vu. She shook her head, pushing away the looming dread.
She had so many questions, and she was tempted to ask the admiral, but something told her not to expose herself to him in any way. He wasn’t a threat in the way she was used to, but something about him felt unsafe. She knew he’d assessed each and every word she’d spoken, storing away the information he’d gleaned. He wouldn’t hesitate to use anything against her or Errol—though to what end, she couldn’t begin to guess.
The shuttle dropped into Varan’s atmosphere and a set of long, thin wings snapped out from the body. They cruised over the largest of the continents. The terrain varied as they flew, from flat green lowlands along the ocean coast, to hilly forest, to a stark, jagged mountain range running across the continent like a great stone scar.
On the eastern end of the landmass, where steep stone ridges ran in undulating grooves from north to south, topped with rich green foliage, the shuttle began a descent towards a sprawling web of gouged earth along the coast. As they came in closer, Hadiza realized the gouges were intentional excavations. She was looking at a city formed of low, partially subterranean structures. Some were connected by networks of tunnels, with occasional aboveground walkways.
The shuttle dipped lower and lower, circling wide around the city, coasting out over the water. They followed the coast to the north, away from the thickest concentration of structures. Lush green forest began spidering into the gaps between structures. They flew on until there was more forest, and the tree cover hid most of the half-buried structures from aerial view.
At last, the admiral guided the ship down to an almost imperceptible gap in the forest canopy. They dropped slowly through thick, lichen covered branches until they touched down on crunchy, dry leaf- and needle-strewn earth. In the the clearing where they’d landed, a central dome of clear glass stood above ground, ringed by a low wall of heavy stone. Partially subterranean tunnels, topped with skylights of colorful glass, radiated out from that center point, terminating in other, smaller glass domes.
As Hadiza and the admiral disembarked from the shuttle, another Scaeven emerged from a tunnel set below the rest of the structure. Hadiza stared at the surroundings, forgetting her fear and distress for just one moment. That was one thing she’d never regretted about her time in the military—seeing new worlds, new cultures, new everything. She took in the thick, dark trees with their frilly green leaves and the strange needled florets that budded along their branches. She let her gaze wander over the stone and glass structure set into the ground like a mysterious lost city.
The other Scaeven drew closer, and Hadiza snapped her attention to him, subtly positioning herself to use the admiral as a body shield. The other Scaeven’s gaze lit on her, on her positioning, and faint amusement lit his yellow eyes. He had hair as pale silver as the admiral’s, though his was shaved on the sides and fastened down the center in a thick, coarse braid that was tied off at his neck with black cord.
The two Scaevens faced each other, their stances rigid, their expressions closed. Dislike permeated the air between them. At last, the admiral spoke in that harsh, growling language. In the midst of all those jagged throat sounds, Hadiza heard “Errol Sin-Haros.”
After some back and forth, the other Scaeven looked to Hadiza. “Welcome to my home,” he said in the Creole. “My name is Asier Mor-Talis. I am an Enforcer—I am partnered with Sin-Haros on the same operation. It would be my honor to host you until…” He hesitated, searching Hadiza’s face. “…until this is all settled,” he finished diplomatically.
Hadiza glanced up at the admiral. Errol had trusted the admiral to keep her safe, but he hadn’t said anything about this other Enforcer.
The admiral said nothing to her, instead using his big body to herd her toward Asier Mor-Talis and the dungeon-like entrance to his underground home. Uncertain, but with no other options, Hadiza allowed herself to be shepherded. They entered the tunnel, reaching a heavy wooden door at the end. Mor-Talis pulled it open. It hinged at the top, rising over their heads.
Through the doorway, they stepped into a large round room. The walls were stacked stone, the floor smooth flagstones covered with thick, colorful carpets. Three shadowy openings spaced evenly along the circumference of the room led off to other portions of the warren-like abode. Heavy, richly upholstered furniture was arranged around in the center of the space, facing inward. Overhead, a massive glass dome gave them a wide view of the towering forest. She realized they were beneath the central hub she’d seen from the ground level.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hadiza caught movement in one of the shadowed tunnels. A woman—a human woman—emerged from the tunnel. She was tall and pale, with icy-blonde hair and glacially blue eyes.
Hadiza did a double take. “Lyra Hallas?” The woman had been captive with her on the traffickers’ ship—but she’d escaped when they’d touched down briefly on an unoccupied planet. Hadiza had assumed her long-dead. But Lyra stood before Hadiza, looking perfectly healthy and happy. Instead of the ragged flight suit Hadiza remembered, she was wearing a green silk tunic with gray
trousers. Her long blonde hair was loose and shining, rather than the lank braid she’d maintained in the traffickers’ cargo hold.
Lyra grinned, crossing the room to stand before Hadiza. “Fancy seeing you here, Moreau,” she replied in French, the language of the Interplanetary Alliance. The humor in her expression was short-lived. She turned her gaze to the admiral, towering behind Hadiza’s back, and her gaze turned cold. “And you would be the famous Admiral Kir-Thoran?” she asked in the Creole.
“At your pleasure, Rour-Asier,” the admiral replied, sounding faintly bored but obligingly polite.
“You’re unmated,” Lyra stated bluntly.
“Yes.”
“Did he touch you, Hadiza?” Lyra turned fierce eyes on her.
“No,” she said quickly. “Well, not like you mean.”
“Unlike some males,” the admiral cut in coldly, “I have a measure of self-control.”
“It’s not a question of self-control,” Asier put in, a subtle warning in the low growl of his voice.
“Isn’t it, though? A human female of childbearing age, healthy and whole, spent a full zeitraum aboard my ship. My entire crew managed to keep their hands to themselves for the entire time, without so much as a single attempt to stake a claim on her.” A self-righteous fury had crept into his snarling voice. “Odd, how a bunch of unmated young conscriptees managed to resist what seasoned Enforcers could not.”
Asier stepped forward, fury writ over his hard features. “If you think it’s as simple as—”
“Hey, Lyra?” a feminine voice called out.
Everyone turned to see a third human join the fray. She was as tall and pale as Lyra, but several years younger. The family resemblance between them was unmistakable, though this woman had coppery brown hair and gray eyes instead of Lyra’s teutonic blonde-and-blue combination.
From behind Hadiza, the admiral let out a deep, vicious snarl.
Moon Struck Page 17
