The other pirates were so shocked they just stood there for a moment, mouths hanging open. Finally one of them got the brilliant idea to shoot. Before he could pull the trigger, however, Theron reached forward and bent the barrel one hundred and eighty degrees.
“Captain Azar,” Theron reiterated to Oleron, who had claimed to be in charge. “Tell him it’s a ghost from Bralon.”
Oleron’s eyes were wide with terror. He and the others almost fell over themselves in their retreat, running backward, trying to keep their guns aimed at Theron.
“How did I do?” Theron asked once they were gone.
“Not bad,” she conceded. “Maybe a little melodramatic.”
He pulled her close for a kiss. “Are you mad I didn’t let you stick up for yourself?”
“Nah,” she grinned, “I like it when you act like a brute.”
He held her tightly against him. She relished the sound of his heartbeat. There was no more calming, centering sound in the entire universe. As long as she had this heart to attune herself to, and these arms to hold her, everything would be all right.
For her. And for Theryssa, too.
There was only one variable left here. And that was Azar, the mysterious former Guardian turned pirate captain.
Should she be worried that he wasn’t here to greet them? Maybe he was busy with Theryssa. Making sex. With any luck it was even more than that.
Chapter Seven
“Falthar is dead,” said Oleron, standing at the entrance to the bridge.
Azar sought to contain his glee. That was one less of Oleron’s thugs he would have to deal with down the line. “I take it you encountered something a bit more hazardous than tourists?” Azar asked dryly.
Oleron did not appear to appreciate the humor. He never did, especially when he was the butt of it. “They want to see you,” he said flatly. “One man and one woman.”
“Two people?” Azar raised a brow. “It ought to have taken an army to bring down Falthar.”
“The guy is an army,” he said bitterly. “He’s got to be some kind of cyborg.”
Or a primale.
“What about the woman?” Azar inquired.
Oleron shrugged. “She’s a looker. About forty. But don’t say anything to her, or that cyborg thing will tear your fucking head off.”
“Duly noted. Have them meet me in the war room. I will speak to them alone.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Oleron declared. “If you want me, I’ll be in the galley getting drunk.”
“You’ll tend to Falthar first. Dispose of his remains out of the main hatchway.”
“It’ll take a while to find all the pieces. He must have hit the bulkhead at light speed.”
“What exactly did he say to this woman to get the man so angry?”
Oleron’s grin was physically nauseating. “Nothing we don’t say to the rest of our female guests.”
Azar frowned, thinking of Theryssa. “You’re dismissed, Oleron,” he said curtly.
Oleron grumbled and left. A second later he popped his head back in. “I almost forgot—he had a message for you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, something about him being a ghost from Bralon?”
Azar’s blood chilled.
“You know him?” Oleron read his expression.
“Of course I do, you fool,” hissed Azar. “Everyone in the galaxy does. Except for you and your idiotic cohorts.”
Indeed, there was only one person such a description could fit. This man was indeed a ghost. At least he would have been had Azar not pushed him out of the way of a collapsing beam tower under Narthian fire.
Theron had come to see him.
But why? He was Commander in Chief of the entire Guardian force now. A sworn enemy. The man was as good as turning himself over as a hostage. For what purpose?
Had his old comrade gone mad? Bringing himself and his woman here?
By the gods, this wasn’t just any woman, either. His mate was Nyssa, the Head of the Council.
“Who are they?” Oleron demanded. “What are you hiding?”
Azar struck him, the pent-up fury boiling over at last. A single backhand sent the man sprawling. “Silence, you imbecile. Speak to me like that again and I will have you drawn and quartered.”
“Yes,” the man groaned, licking the blood from the corner of his lip, “sir.”
Azar stepped over him, his mind already racing ten steps ahead.
Theron had come here. To him.
Something was going on. Theron was not a madman, nor was he a fool. He had come, unarmed, bringing his mate. The highest official in the government.
His heart raced as he descended in the elevator, to the war room. It did not take a cyber genius to figure out his extraordinary new visitors bore some connection to his other guest, a person whose presence here was equally improbable.
Theryssa. The female with the genes of a primale. A creature who, by all rights, should not exist at all.
At this rate, he could only imagine who would be coming to see him tomorrow.
The Narthian Next Queen maybe, begging to make peace? Or how about Santa Claus, asking him to deliver toys throughout the galaxy in his pirate ship?
One day I’ll laugh at this, he thought. If I live that long.
* * * * *
Theryssa stood on the mattress, pulling the chain with all her might. Gritting her teeth, she let loose a grunt of sheer anguish.
The novelty of the whole shackle and fur thing had most definitely worn off. Theryssa was bored. And pissed. And more than a little anxious about what was taking Azar so long. She should have pressed him for a specific amount of time. What if he was in trouble? Here she was stuck, chained up like a girl.
Which is what she was, technically, though that hardly represented the full fearsomeness of her woman’s spirit. She was a warrior—her mother always said that. Dad had called her Wild Thing since before she could properly talk and say her name.
Fuck. Maybe she could twist the thing off her wrists.
It was such a joke. Confined in a bed. A sexual prisoner. A freaking slave, according to her captor.
What a little fool she had been, getting all wrapped up in his whole snake charmer routine. Now that he had been gone a while, things seemed a lot clearer.
At least as much as they could in a situation like this.
Azar was either a traitor or he wasn’t. He was in bed with the Narthians or not. In either case, he was a pirate, who attacked Earth ships. Guardian ships flown by men who were her friends and brothers in arms. He also made slaves of women, although he seemed pretty sensitive with her.
When he wasn’t making plans to whip her.
Damn. The twisting wasn’t working either. Maybe she could use something else. Where had that lance ended up—the one she had attacked him with?
It was then she saw a tiny glimmer on the floor, near the end of the bed. Her heart skipped a beat. It looked like a key. Son of a bitch. Had the all-knowing, in control Azar actually screwed up and dropped the key to the shackles on his way out?
It sure as hell looked like it.
It was about time she got a break her way. The question was—could she reach it. Not with her hands, but she had feet and toes. She was pretty good with them, too, thanks to a lot of sessions of toe wrestling with her father, a game the two of them had invented when she was little.
How easy it was back then. When he would just play with her and talk and laugh. Once she had grown up, it all seemed to get so much harder.
Theryssa scooted down the bed, stretching her arms over her head. It took her a while to find the key again with her foot, since she was on her back, staring at the ceiling.
Finally, she felt the cold metal with her big toe. Now came the tricky part. Getting it between her toes without kicking it out of reach for good. Once she nearly lost it. A couple more times she came close, only to drop it halfway up.
Finally, she was able to lift it all the wa
y over her head and drop it straight down.
She caught it with true sass, clamping it right between her teeth.
A second later she was free.
Now all she had to do was find her way out of the cabin, past a whole crew of horny pirates and make it to Azar. Then she could make her decision.
Either to kill him or kiss him.
Whichever of the two came into her mind first.
* * * * *
It was not his old compatriot who Azar noticed first. Of the two highly attractive, physically fit persons of early middle age standing in the war room waiting for him, it was definitely the female who caught and kept his attention.
“You…are Nyssa?” he asked, astonished.
Azar had seen holoids of the woman here and there, official pictures off the hologrid, and scenes from Council meetings. But nothing up close and personal. In real life there was no mistaking the resemblance.
She could be Theryssa in twenty years.
“I am.” The woman nodded. “And you are Azar. King of Pirates.”
Azar was at a loss for words. Was the Council cloning its best citizens now, creating new organisms from the exact same genetic material?
“Nyssa is Theryssa’s mother.” Theron inserted himself into the conversation. “That is the reason for the resemblance.”
“Her…mother?” This was getting more incredible by the minute. “But natural genetics has been outlawed for centuries. You mean to say you carried her…in your womb?”
“Perish the thought.” Nyssa shook her head. “I love my daughter to death, but I would never endure such a thing. Theryssa was made in a test tube, the healthy way. It just so happens that her genes, unlike the rest of the population, are an exclusive mix. Mine and—”
“Yours,” Azar finished her sentence, looking directly at Theron. “Theryssa is your daughter. I should have guessed as much from her stubbornness.”
Theron attempted unsuccessfully to hide his pride. “She does tend to take after me, it’s true.”
“But she has your beauty,” Azar declared to Nyssa.
Nyssa smiled in definite appreciation. “Thank you,” she said, “though there is no need to flatter an old lady.”
“You are hardly old, Nyssa.” This from Theron, who clearly adored his wife. “But see here, Azar,” he riveted his eagle eyes, “now that the introductions are out of the way, I must insist that you guarantee the safety of my wife and my daughter from this point forward. Otherwise, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”
“You have my word. On my life,” said Azar. “As for the men you encountered, I shall deal with them. I promise you, they did not act on my orders.”
“We believe you,” said Nyssa speaking for them both. “And we trust you.”
Azar marveled at the woman’s grace and boldness. Theryssa had learned much from her mother, no doubt.
“Theryssa’s name,” Azar exclaimed, the pieces continuing to fall into place in his rapidly whirring brain. “That’s a mix, too. Theron and Nyssa. Therr—yssa.”
“I can see your powers of deduction remain as strong as ever,” Theron quipped. “I imagine you will be able to guess the real reason why we sent her here, too.”
“Not bloody likely. By the gods,” he shook his head, still overwhelmed at seeing Theryssa’s progenitors, “I can’t believe my eyes. It’s so clear. She is the perfect combination of a warrior and a politician. Tell me, is she truly unique, or are other couples being allowed to create natural children?”
“It’s a very select group so far. Our daughter, as well as our nephew born of Nyssa’s sister Seria and her husband. Of course Nyssa and I are natural, as well,” Theron explained. “Although Theryssa is unique in being the first female born of a primale father and a half primale mother. That makes her quite extraordinary. She is the first female in the Guardians, as a matter of fact, though she is seldom linked to me or her mother.”
“We have tried to protect our children’s identities,” said Nyssa. “Theryssa was raised by us, but only a few outside the family know who she really is. It’s the same with Seria and Raylar’s son.”
“Which begs the question,” Azar decided to get to the meat of the situation, “why tell me all this? For that matter, why choose my humble ship for this little family get-together of yours in the first place? Are there more coming? Should I expect a reunion?”
Nyssa’s smile broadened. The room lit up, the same way it did when Theryssa smiled. “Not exactly. Could we sit down, though? I’m afraid it’s a bit of a long story.”
“Forgive me.” Azar rushed to get a chair for this dazzling woman…the mother of the woman he had been sharing such incredible sex with.
The same woman Azar currently had chained on his bed.
How could he have forgotten such a thing, standing here, casually talking to the woman’s parents? Looking at Theron, he had sudden visions of himself flying through the air like Falthar.
“If you’ll forgive me, I need to tend to something.” Azar bowed, offering Theryssa one of two simple metal seats. “I’ll be right back.”
Theron remained standing. “If you don’t mind, I would like to get right to business.”
“Theron,” Nyssa scolded lightly, “stop being such a bear.”
“It’s all right, Nyssa,” said Azar. “If Theron was too easygoing, I would start to worry.”
Theron sat down, with Azar following suit. Unfortunately, Theryssa would have to wait just a little longer.
“I’d worry, too,” agreed Nyssa, squeezing the powerful arm of her husband.
“The first thing I must ask you, Azar,” Theron settled imperiously into his seat, “Is to confirm your receipt of my transmission. I assume so, since you haven’t tried to blast us to atoms.”
“I did receive it. As for letting you live, credit your lovely wife. I’d have shot you on sight if you’d come alone,” he joked grimly.
“It’s true,” he acknowledged with a gallows smile. “We have been enemies, you and I, for a long time. Were we meeting under different circumstances, I would be sworn by my office to destroy you.”
Azar nodded, seeking once and for all to lay to rest the memory of Solania. Whether it was indeed an accident or that she had killed herself after being told by Theron that she couldn’t see Azar anymore, it wasn’t Theron’s fault. He had come under orders and he was not responsible for her subsequent actions. “That said, let’s get down to business. The past…shall be left in the past. I accept your personal words to me and your invitation to dialogue.”
Theron nodded. “In that case, let us propose to you a new beginning between us.”
“What new beginning could there be, Theron?”
Nyssa eyed her husband, indicating a desire to take over their end of the conversation. “Azar, we sent to you the most precious thing to us in the entire universe. Our only child. Forgive us for not being up front about why. Forgive us, too, for sending her in disguise, and for keeping tabs on her while she’s been with you.”
“Keeping…tabs?”
Theron nodded. “Unbeknownst to her, we inserted a transponder into her retina. The procedure is a new one. It was done while she was asleep one night. A remote android, a ball little bigger than a man’s hand administered it by microbeam. It’s painless and is designed to dissolve in a few weeks. Thanks to it, we have been fully aware of everything happening to her since her arrival.”
Azar swallowed. “Everything?”
Nyssa smiled knowingly. “Don’t be embarrassed Azar. We are adults, we are aware of what sex-making is. Theryssa is grown, too, and we know that all that has transpired between you is consensual and fully natural.”
Azar looked at Theron, blinking. “You saw…”
Theron was frowning heavily, fists clenched. Clearly he was far less comfortable with his daughter’s sexuality than his wife.
“Let’s not drag this out,” he cut Azar off. “We did what we had to for Theryssa’s security. This is a pirate s
hip for star’s sake. You have my word, the receiver will be deactivated as soon as we get back on our ship. The point is, Theryssa came to you unmated, you interacted with her and now you will be her lifemate.”
Azar’s eyes widened. Was he hearing right? Theryssa was certainly sweet, but what, for nebula’s sake, gave Theron the idea they were going to hook up for life after less than a day together.
Although now that he thought about it, he did feel intensely comfortable and at home with Theryssa…more so even than in his own skin.
“Theron, with all due respect…”
It was Nyssa’s turn to interrupt him. “Azar, you needn’t answer now. I know it’s a lot to absorb. And we owe you an extra apology for spying on you in bed. We just needed to know she was safe at all times.”
“It’s lucky for you she was,” Theron said. “I have had half the fleet on standby in the next star system.”
Azar had had just about enough. “Well, you might as well use it on me, Theron, because I am not mating with anyone against my will. Ever.”
“You have no choice,” Theron pressed. “You possessed her…as a primale. She is your woman. You must protect her, and lay down your life for her if need be. Your genetics will allow nothing else.”
Azar’s blood pounded in his head. “I have been with many women…with all due respect, and never had that happen,” Azar argued, as much against himself as Theron.
Theron was on his feet. “Do you dare to compare my daughter with a horde of pirate wenches?”
Azar, no physical slouch himself, met him eye to eye across the table. “I said no such thing, Theron. And if you think for one moment that I dishonored Theryssa in word or deed, then you will meet such wrath as you have never known.”
“Both of you, that’s enough!” Nyssa was standing, too, holding them back, one palm on each of their chests. “You are both acting like boys in a schoolyard.”
Theron’s breathing slowed and gradually his face resumed a less predatory expression. Azar extended his hand. “Forgive me…old friend.”
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