by Presley Hall
My gaze follows his as I shake off the confusing thoughts and lingering arousal. The trading planet comes into view, growing larger and larger as we approach.
Tycran heads toward the control deck, moving with purpose. Since the ship is on manual control, he’ll have to guide us into port himself so as not to reactivate the AI. Just taking the cloaking device off is risky enough, although by this point it’s doubtful anyone on Kalix could figure out what we’re doing in time to stop us.
Just before he leaves the common room, he pauses in the doorway and glances over his shoulder.
“You did well, Lucy,” he says softly. “Thank you.”
And then, before I can think of a response, he disappears.
11
Tycran
We finished the model just in time for our arrival at Hak Gavar.
It requires all my focus to guide the ship safely into the docking bay, and I’m grateful for that. It means there’s no room to think about what just happened with Lucy, or to dwell on what it felt like to have her arms around my neck and her slender body pressed against mine.
I’m reluctant to say I’m glad Lucy snuck onto the ship—after all, I still have to somehow make sure she gets back to Kalix safely without compromising the mission in any way—but I have to admit that having her here turned out to be far more useful than I expected.
I thought she would be a nuisance, useless and in the way. Instead, she turned out to be a quick learner, and extremely apt when it came to putting together the model of Oryn. More adept at it than I was, at times. It impressed me more than a little, and I could feel my emotions toward her softening with every day that passed.
But I don’t want to give her the wrong impression, or false hope. I know she wants more than what we are to each other now, but that’s a distraction I can’t afford, now more than ever. It doesn’t matter that she makes my blood feel like it’s on fire, that her touch just now made me ache down to my bones in a way I’ve never experienced, even when I was young and desperate for the touch of a female. It doesn’t matter that she makes my cock harder than I’ve ever felt it in my entire life.
She’s not my purpose. This mission is, and everything it stands for. My feelings for Lucy are nothing but selfish desire.
As if summoned by my thoughts, she appears on the control deck just as I’m angling the ship onto the trajectory that will lead us directly into port.
“What planet is this?” she asks curiously, leaning forward to look at the lights ahead of us.
“Hak Gavar,” I tell her, not taking my gaze off where we’re going. “It’s a trading planet.”
“Oh! Like Wauru?”
“In a way.” I feel my jaw tighten as I think of trying to keep her safe here. “Hak Gavar is far more dangerous. Wauru had a black market, and plenty of smugglers and other unsavory types, but they have laws against the slave trade. Here, that’s not the case. There are many on Hak Gavar who come to trade in flesh.”
I spare a glance at her, trying to impart the seriousness of it to her in a single look. “You will need to be very careful. Do not leave my side, and do not question anything I tell you. You’re both human and very beautiful, and as such, you will be seen as very valuable to the traffickers here. They must believe that they’ll have to go through me to get to you, and hopefully that will dissuade anyone who might want to take you.”
Lucy’s cheeks flush with pleasure when I say she is beautiful, but I see the blood immediately drain from her face as I continue. I’m sure she vividly remembers being taken by the Orkun, nearly being made a warlord’s bride, and the terror of what could have been. I hate making her relive such awful memories, but I need her to understand the gravity of our situation, and where we are.
“There are other things bought and sold on the black market here too—drugs, the teeth and tusks and fur of creatures not legally allowed to be hunted, and a great deal of weaponry. The pirates and smugglers who traffic in these goods are dangerous.”
“I understand,” she says softly. “I’m sorry I’ve put you in this position, Tycran, I really am. I didn’t realize…”
“I know,” I tell her, but my voice is surprisingly gentle when I say it. “I know you didn’t mean for it to turn out this way. It was foolish, what you did, but I know it was not malicious.”
She doesn’t say anything, just nods and braces her hands against the deck as I begin to guide us into one of the docking stations. One of those hands, pale and long-fingered, is very close to mine. I could almost touch it.
Focus. I shake my head slightly.
“We’ll find the docking master and pay him, and then go to my contact,” I tell her as I set the ship down and feel the locking mechanisms click into place.
As the hatch opens, I look at her. I’ve spent most of the time I’ve known her trying not to see how very beautiful she is, but now, as I think of how to keep her safe, it’s impossible to ignore it.
The red wrap dress she’s wearing seems to cling to every single one of her curves, showing me the shape of her body in a way that somehow makes me wonder what it would look like bared. Her long blonde hair is loose, tumbling around her shoulders, and as she pushes a lock of it out of her face, I feel my mouth go dry and my cock pulse beneath my loincloth, threatening to harden into a full erection.
You’re a full-grown Kalixian male, I chide myself. Not a hormonal, pubescent boy. Surely you can make it through the city with a woman at your side without having to fight to keep your cock soft.
Maybe other women. But this one is making it deshing hard.
“Can you… I don’t know… put your hair up or something?” I wave a hand at the thick, loose locks tumbling over her shoulders and back. “And by all the gods, stay close to me.”
As I turn to walk out of the hatch, I see her smirking slightly as she fetches a thin leather tie. She strides toward me, and I catch a whiff of her scent as she binds her hair back, the sweet smell of her skin and the herbal scent of the soap she used filling my nostrils.
I do my best to ignore it, but it’s a struggle. She smells almost addictive. The faint saltiness of the sweat on the back of her neck as we step out into the hot night makes it impossible not to think of the sweat that might streak the rest of her body if I took her to bed, mingling with my own.
I can feel lust rising up in me, my pulse speeding up in my throat, that familiar ache in my balls spreading to my cock and making it rise.
Why is she so deshing hard to ignore?
It’s not like I’ve never been around a beautiful woman before. In all the time since the genocide of our people, since I swore the vow of the Alpha Force, I’ve broken my self-imposed celibacy only once. I was young and tempted, and I lost my self-control. But since then, I’ve mastered my desires. I’ve learned to channel them into the things I’m meant to focus on.
So why does Lucy make me feel as if it’s coming apart at the seams?
I’m not the only one who notices her. As we walk through the streets, I see other alien males looking at her, their gazes skimming over her body, eyes lighting up with interest and desire.
Every single one then glances at me, hesitates, then tears their attention away, clearly deciding that whatever interest they have in Lucy—pleasure or profit—isn’t worth trying to fight me.
Good, I think fiercely, keeping my body close to hers. I can feel a protective instinct rising up in me, a deep need to make sure she’s safe and protected.
Lucy, to her credit, does exactly as I’ve asked her to do. She keeps pace with me despite my long strides, staying close to my side, and keeps her eyes focused forward on the path ahead of us. She doesn’t look around at the port or its occupants, and I feel a small flash of pride in her. She’s doing well, carrying herself like a warrior.
I knock sharply on the door of the warehouse as we stop in front of it—three quick raps, as arranged.
The door slides open a moment later, and we step inside. The warehouse is shadowy, with lights
at the far end overlooking a workbench and table. I see Lucy’s mouth drop open as she takes in our surroundings. Even I, raised in the natural beauty of Kalix, pause briefly.
It’s… not what I expected.
The inside of the warehouse is crawling with greenery. Plants of every shape and size cover the walls and floor around us, taking up every bit of space that isn’t being utilized for something else. There are smaller ones that look like herbs, great flowering vines, plants with massive leaves bigger than my arm. They fill the warehouse with a fresh, green, floral scent that almost covers the acrid smells of oil and metal and heat, and Lucy’s eyes widen as she looks around.
“Oh my god,” she whispers.
“Tycran.” An alien appears out of the shadows, as tall as I am and nearly as muscular. At first, I can’t imagine how I didn’t see him—no one has ever been able to sneak up on me, not since I was a child. But then the color of his skin shifts slightly, from the deep green of the plants to a darker shade that blends with the shadows, and I realize why.
“Oh, wow. He’s like a chameleon,” Lucy whispers, so low that I’m hopeful he didn’t hear it.
I’m not sure what a “chameleon” is, but I find his skill at blending in unnerving. This is undoubtedly Rok, the weapons maker I’m meant to meet with, and I clench my jaw as I attempt to take stock of him, just to be sure.
His face is one that I imagine females find handsome, with dark, grooved markings on either side of it, arcing from high on his temples down to just below his sharp cheekbones. But there’s a dangerous edge to him, something in the tilt of his head and the line of his jaw that I recognize as someone I would do well not to anger.
I could probably take him in a fair fight, but it wouldn’t be easy, and I’m not in any hurry to give it a try. I’m not Sorsir or Zhori, not one to let my masculine arrogance get the better of me. I’d rather talk than fight, and I hope that this meeting goes as expected.
Rok’s green eyes glitter with amusement as he sees me sizing him up. His skin has shifted color again, turning to a shade somewhere between my bronzed skin and Lucy’s tanned flesh. There are gold rings around each of his irises, and they glow in the dim light as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“You’ve come a long way to stand there in silence,” he comments.
His gaze flicks to Lucy, tracing the shape of her from her face down to her toes and back up again, and I see his eyes fill with an appreciation and heat that I recognize.
It rouses a fury in me that I didn’t expect, one I have to fight to restrain. I feel a growl rising in my throat, my muscles bunching, and I rock back on my heels, forcing myself to stay calm. I need Rok in order for this mission to succeed. It won’t help anyone for me to attack him right now.
No matter how much I want to.
He smirks knowingly but looks away from Lucy and focuses on me. “What can I do for you, Tycran? I’m sure you wouldn’t have come to Hak Gavar without a great need. No one does.”
I can believe that. This planet, and everything happening on it, makes my skin crawl. But being here is a necessity.
“I need bombs,” I say flatly. “Bombs that can take out the core of a nuclear reactor.”
Rok’s eyes widen a little, and I can’t quite tell if he’s startled or impressed. He whistles, shaking his head. “That’s a lot of destructive power,” he murmurs, considering. He steps fully out of the shadows then, gesturing for me to follow him to his workbench.
Lucy stays behind me as I do, and I’m glad for it. She’s picked up quickly on the need for discretion.
“I know better than to ask anything more about what you need them for,” Rok says with a chuckle as he settles into a chair near his workstation and leans back. “But you know weaponry like that doesn’t come cheap. Especially since the Orkun have tightened their watch on shipping lines. Two pirate ships destroyed just last week. Materials aren’t being smuggled in at the same rate anymore.”
“What’s your price?” I ask him tightly. I don’t have time to haggle. I need to do this quickly, and I can feel a knot of anxiety tightening in my gut at his caution. If I came all this way for nothing, destroyed my place in the Alpha Force and the trust my king and commander have in me for nothing…
I cannot let that happen.
Rok names a price, and I flinch. “I can’t pay that,” I tell him, my voice harsher than I mean for it to be. “I don’t have that kind of currency on me.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I think you knew that already though.”
A slow smile spreads over his angular face. “It’s not unusual for my clients not to be able to pay me outright,” he admits, tapping his fingers on his knee. “After all, I have to set my prices quite high to make up for the cost of materials and the danger of the kind of goods I make and sell. But there are… other things I need, from time to time.”
My jaw tightens. This kind of bartering isn’t out of place on these types of planets. Even ones like Wauru, where the black market is much more tame, rely more on haggling than flat currency.
Normally, I might take a certain pleasure in haggling with the other man, coming to terms that suit us both. But I can feel the need to hurry rising in me, nearly smothering me.
I fight the sensation back. I have to keep a calm and cool head.
“What do you want me to do?” I keep my expression as neutral as I can, hoping that what he wants will be something I can obtain.
“I’ll create your bombs in exchange for a favor,” he says, swiveling on his chair to face me fully. “I placed a bid for a collection of rare seeds at an auction a few days ago. They’re extremely valuable, possibly the only ones left in the universe. But I lost the auction.”
I blink at him. “Seeds?”
Rok shrugs. “Better than what most people bid on around here.” He gestures to our surroundings, to the plants covering the walls and the vines that seem to be reaching out for us like moving, breathing things. “Are you really so surprised?”
“It’s not my place to judge,” I tell him flatly. I’m just relieved that his demanded price wasn’t worse—a slave he wanted stolen, or a woman.
“Those seeds are important to me.” Rok leans forward, his eyes intent as his gaze meets mine. “The man who won them will be picking them up from the seller on the Astral Grace cruise ship in two days’ time. If you can get those seeds for me—before or after he hands them off, doesn’t matter to me—I’ll build those bombs for you.”
“And they’ll do the job I need? You guarantee it?”
Rok grins at me. “I’d never take a job I couldn’t deliver on. You’ll have bombs that could blow up a moon, if you wanted.”
I don’t so much as flinch at his words. Behind me, I hope that Lucy is keeping a straight face.
I hesitate only for a moment. This will put us a day behind schedule, and what he’s asking for isn’t entirely without danger. It won’t be easy to steal the seeds unnoticed. Fortunately, a place like Hak Gavar is light on laws and law enforcement. But that doesn’t mean that either the seller, the buyer, or both won’t have some personal security forces with them. And there will absolutely be security aboard the cruise ship. It’s risky.
But I need those bombs. Aran told me there was no one else with Rok’s skill who could do what I needed, or who would do it without asking questions. I know I don’t have much of a choice.
“All right,” I agree. “I’ll get those seeds for you. But I need those bombs as quickly as possible. I’m short on time.”
“You’ve got it, brother.” Rok grins at me, his eyes glinting slightly as he lifts his chin toward Lucy. “Take that pretty thing with you. She’ll be a good distraction.”
I clench my jaw. “You didn’t see her here. If I so much as see anyone on our tail, trying to get ahold of her…”
Rok throws up his hands, chuckling. “Of course. Whatever you say. Don’t worry, I have no interest in that part of Hak Gavar’s trade.”
“Good.” I feel a little of the tension in
my muscles loosen. “I’m going to need descriptions of the seller and buyer, and a map of the port.”
The weapons maker gives me an easy smile. “Anything you need.”
12
Lucy
As we leave the warehouse and head down the street, my head feels like a blur. I don’t entirely understand what just happened, but I can tell Tycran isn’t too pleased.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even. I don’t want him to see how nervous I am.
The warehouse itself was strange enough, with the plants growing on every surface. Rok seemed easygoing, and I have to admit he was handsome. I’ve wondered if the Kalixians are unusually attractive for aliens, but I can see that there’s at least one other species in the universe that’s drop-dead gorgeous, even if his chameleon-like ability was a little unnerving.
But I sensed something slightly dangerous about him too. He’s not a man to cross, that’s obvious. I knew a few men like that in the clubs in Vegas. I hope whatever agreement Tycran made with the mysterious man, he’s certain he can keep it.
“We have to go to a cruise ship to get seeds?” I press, glancing up at Tycran.
“Well, I certainly can’t afford his price outright,” he says grimly. “So I’ve got to have some other way to pay him. He needs these seeds, for whatever reason, as if he doesn’t have enough plants to make a whole deshing jungle in there. So we’re going to have to go collect them.”
“Steal them, you mean.” There’s no judgement in my voice—I figured there would be things Tycran would have to do on this mission that weren’t exactly on the up and up—but there is concern. This sounds dangerous, and it wasn’t part of his original plan.
“Steal them,” he confirms. “We’ll deliver them to Rok afterward, and that will be his payment. But we’re going to have to get on that cruise ship and get ahold of the package.”
We. He said we.
I perk up a little as I realize that I’m going to be sneaking onto the cruise ship with him. I was worried he might just stash me on our ship until he got back, but it’s clear he doesn’t intend to let me out of his sight.
