Surprisingly, it was Morgan who backed him off. “You agreed to remain civil. If that’s impossible in your current state of mind, we’ll adjourn, or you can leave Berlynn to negotiate in your place.”
“They weren’t involved.” Berlynn spoke for the first time. “Milanni was alone. I’m certain of it.”
“Then where is she?” Ulrik snapped. “Even your grandmother has been unable to see her.”
Garin watched the exchange closely, but even Raylon couldn’t decipher his thoughts. “Have you searched Outpost LA? She’s well-known in the pleasure district. Someone could be hiding her.”
“We’ve searched everywhere.” Ulrik leaned forward and animosity sparked between the two alpha leaders. It would take a strong and agile hand to keep these two in line. “The only place she could elude our seers is on a ship with covert shields. Do you happen to know where I can find one?”
Every word Ulrik spoke dripped with sarcasm and still Garin remained outwardly calm. “I know of two. She’s not aboard the Crusader, so that leaves the Relentless.”
“What female would be foolish enough to trust Akim Farmon? By now everyone has heard what he did to the harbinger. No one else will be foolish enough to willingly submit to his cruelty.”
“‘Willingly submit?’” Fury rolled through Raylon, propelling him to his feet. “You know nothing about it!”
“She’s a harbinger,” Ulrik snapped. “One of the best. She had to know what would happen.”
Raylon lunged across the table, but Garin caught his shirt with both hands and pulled him back. “She was not willing!”
Garin clasped Raylon’s shoulder, applying steady pressure until he sat back down. Shaking with suppressed rage, Raylon clenched his fists and glared at Ulrik Tandori. Willing? How many compassionless fools believed that nonsense? Chandar should have seen it coming, should have refused to serve Akim. Such ignorance was mind-blowing.
“You will not speak of the harbinger again,” Garin warned. “Her tragedy is intensely personal to both of us.”
“I apologize.” Tandori even managed to sound sincere. “I meant no disrespect to your friend.”
Raylon’s only response was a silent snarl.
After a tense pause, Morgan said, “To answer your question, Milanni might be the only female not horrified by Akim. I did some research and found out he was her mentor for several years. They know each other well. Or at least did before she moved to Outpost LA.”
“I was unaware of the connection,” Ulrik admitted with obvious reluctance. “Apparently, our search was a waste of time.”
Berlynn placed her hand on her uncle’s forearm, her voice low yet authoritative. “We have to focus on Akim or all our efforts will be a waste of time.”
Ulrik inclined his head, acknowledging her statement, so she removed her hand. “How in hells rings do we find him?” He posed the question to the table at large.
Garin shifted in his chair. His movements suspiciously close to fidgeting. Their inability to find Akim was an ongoing frustration. “We’ve been trying. The task is surprisingly difficult. And it’s not just the Relentless anymore. Akim installed his backup shield generator on one of his shuttles. This gives him maneuverability as well as speed.” Akim had used the shuttle to sneak past Lunar Nine’s defenses. Wisely, Garin kept that tidbit to himself. They’d taken measures to make sure it never happened again. That was all that mattered.
“How did you find the Relentless the first time?” Nazerel asked.
“With Pyre Sterling’s help,” Raylon admitted begrudgingly.
“She told us the frequency Akim was using to communicate with Quinton. We baited him into responding and followed the signal to the ship.”
“Can’t you just do that again?” Ulrik made it sound like it was the most obvious solution in all the known worlds.
“When a commander knows he’s had a security breech, it’s standard procedure to change all existing protocols,” Garin told him.
And just to make sure the meaning wasn’t obscured by military ease, Raylon clarified, “They haven’t used the frequency since, so we have two options.” Raylon looked at Berlynn, not yet ready to acknowledge Ulrik’s existence. “One of our harbingers could have another vision.”
“One of your harbingers?” Ulrik flared. “How many do you have?”
“How many seers are among Tandori Tribe and how long have your people been able to shapeshift?” Garin returned without pause. “Are you ready to start exchanging secrets?”
Berlynn’s shimmering golden eyes narrowed as she looked at Garin. “How did you know about the shapeshifters?”
They hadn’t been sure there was more than one until her question confirmed it for them. Unsure how much Garin wanted the others to know, Raylon let the general answer. “One of my harbingers witnessed the tragedy. We’re very sorry for your loss.”
Ulrik rested his forearms on the table, leaning slightly forward again. “Did this harbinger see where Milanni went after she murdered my brother?”
Raylon shook his head. “The vision occurred from your niece’s perspective. We know no more than you. The explosion was triggered by an energy beam, so Milanni escaped in some sort of ship. But all the harbinger saw was the beam.”
“That’s convenient,” Ulrik muttered, slumping back in his chair.
“What’s the other option?” Berlynn asked Raylon. Her back remained straight, her narrow shoulders squared, but pain and loss clouded her gaze.
“We can contact the Integration Guild and ask how to locate a ship equipped with covert shields,” Raylon explained. “The Integration Guild must approve all new technologies. They’d know about any potential weaknesses.”
“And why would they reveal such a weakness to a bunch of criminals?” Morgan’s tone was less cutting than Ulrik Tandori’s, yet the question held a wealth of meaning.
Had the humans learned about the price on Garin’s head? The Integration Guild hadn’t established their support for the rebellion, nor had they stated their allegiance to Quinton. As far as Raylon knew, the most powerful guild on Rodymia intended to remain neutral as long as possible. Which decreased their chances of helping a rebel. Raylon sighed. His mental rambling explained Morgan’s doubt.
“We wouldn’t be the one to ask for their assistance.” Garin looked at Ulrik meaningfully. “If I’m not mistaken, your sister has a direct link to the Integration Guild.”
Raylon had no idea what Garin meant. Still, he wasn’t willing to reveal his confusion to the others. Staying current on Rodyte happenings was almost impossible with everything he had to do in this star system. Luckily, Nazerel asked the question echoing through Raylon’s mind.
“What are you talking about?”
“Haven’s entire life is a balancing act.” Ulrik’s voice became a low rumble. “She’s technically a fugitive, just like us. The only thing that keeps Quinton from arresting her is Javin Aidentar.”
“Are they lovers?” Morgan asked. Clearly, she wasn’t aware of the connection either.
“Their relationship began several years ago, but—despite my adamant objections—Haven married Javin last summer.”
“Your sister is married to a guild master?” Nazerel still sounded wary.
“Not just any guild master. Master of the Integration Guild.” Morgan was even less subtle than Nazerel. “Why haven’t you asked for their assistance before now?”
Ulrik glared at her. “I will not endanger one sibling in pursuit of retribution for another.”
“How does a simple message endanger your sister?” Garin shook his head.
“It wouldn’t be a simple message,” Ulrik objected. “We’d be asking for information that only has one source. If we can suddenly track the Relentless, Quinton will know who helped us and why.”
“It should be Aunt Haven’s choice.” Berlynn looked at Ulrik as tears gathered behind her long lashes. “It takes so long for our messages to reach Rodymia. She might not even know about Vinton yet.�
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Ulrik sighed, his wide chest visibly sinking. “I’ll think about it.”
After a reflective pause, Morgan cleared her throat. “We’re actually a bit off course. Vinton’s murder was not what brought us here today.”
And like an ember ignited by the wind, Ulrik Tandori was bluster and indignation all over again. “No, we’re here because the battle born want to steal our women!”
Chapter Four
With a frustrating sense of déjà vu, Milanni paced a cabin, waiting for the occupant to arrive. This cabin was smaller than Akim’s but still large by spaceship standards. She was waiting for Fyran…she didn’t even know his last name. Not that it mattered. Her purpose was to seduce him, not form a mating bond. Seduction was much easier when she knew her target and she’d not yet met Fyran. She knew he was a battle born warrior who served under the most ruthless commander in the fleet, but was he loyal to the crown or did he follow orders out of necessity?
The cabin door parted and Fyran walked into the room. At least she presumed it was Fyran. The computer hadn’t announced a visitor, so this was likely her target.
He spotted her as the door slid closed behind him. Drawing his flexblade, he narrowed his gaze and pointed the weapon at her head. Flexblades could morph from dagger to sword and back at the whims of the wielder. They were incredibly hard to control, which was one of the reasons battle born soldiers were so obsessed with them. Only the best and most disciplined were awarded flexblades. They were a status symbol as well as a lethal weapon.
“Who are you?” he snapped. “Why are you here?”
He was younger than she’d expected. His features were pleasant, perhaps even handsome if he were less fatigued. Battle born soldiers were all musclebound hulks, but there was a sophistication to Fyran’s face that she hadn’t expected. This might not be so bad after all. Young men all thought they were gods, wanted only to be worshiped, so she opted for a demure approach rather than unleashing Lady M.
She clasped her hands behind her back, forcing her breasts forward. Her outfit was anything but sexy. She’d had no idea she’d be groveling for protection when she dressed that morning. “I’m a gift from your commander, if you’re willing to accept responsibility for me.” She lowered her gaze and waited for him to react. She was at least ten years his senior. Still, she took good care of her face and figure so her age was hard to determine at first glance.
Moments ticked by in awkward silence. Was he still pointing his flexblade at her? She didn’t hear him move, but suddenly he was right in front of her. He curved his fingers beneath her chin and raised her face so he could see her eyes.
“Why?” His voice was low yet less hesitant.
She licked her lips, drawing his attention to her mouth. Hopefully igniting his imagination. She’d yet to meet a male who could resist that particular offer and she was particularly good at oral pleasures. “Why what? I don’t understand.”
“Why would Akim give me a gift? He barely tolerates his battle born crewmembers.”
Taking her clue from his earnest openness, she told him the truth, or as much of the truth as he needed to know combined with a few embellishments. “I’m in trouble. I witnessed a murder and now the family of the victim, as well as the murderer, is trying desperately to find me. I asked Akim if I could hide out here on the ship for a while. He agreed to let me if I could find someone to claim me as his body slave. I’m hoping that someone is you.”
“I don’t need a body slave.” He sounded offended by the idea.
“No one ‘needs’ a body slave. It’s a concept alien to anyone who works for a living. But Akim makes the rules. This is his ship.” She slowly reached out and placed her hand on his upper arm, doing her best to look innocent. “If you won’t do this for me, I’ll have to ask one of the others. I see kindness in your eyes. I’d rather serve you.”
He just stared at her, lips compressed, nostrils flaring.
She slid her hand down his arm, onto his chest and then lower.
Catching her wrist in one tight fist, he stopped her hand’s descent. “I will not take an unwilling female. The idea repulses me.”
“I’m willingly exchanging pleasure for protection. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.”
He swayed closer and the growing bulge in the front of his pants revealed the nature of his conflict. “Why would you be willing to barter with your body?”
She tensed, insulted by his objections. “Do you think I would have come to Akim if I had any other options? I’m desperate. I have nowhere else to go.” She jerked her arm out of his grasp and took a step backward. “I’m not unattractive.” She stumbled over the last word, hoping he’d correct her. “Can’t you find anything appealing about me?”
“Your appeal is not the problem. You’re stunning.”
Stunning? She couldn’t remember the last time anyone described her with that word. Lowering her lashes to hide her relief, she crossed her arms over her chest as she said, “I find you attractive too. Sharing pleasure with you will not be a sacrifice.”
His hand touched her upper arm, the contact shockingly gentle. “Are you sure? He isn’t forcing you to do this in some way?”
She looked into his eyes and lowered her arms to her sides, giving him access to the front of her blouse. “Akim had nothing to do with my mess. In his own twisted way, he’s being gallant.”
Fyran raised his other hand to her face, fanning out his fingers against her cheek as he traced her lips with his thumb. Oh his imagination had definitely engaged now. She could see it in his eyes.
“I claim you as my body slave.” His voice sounded rough almost choked. “You will serve only me.”
Thank the gods. A possessive master would be less likely to share her. “I serve you willingly and I will serve only you.”
Lust ignited the purple rings in his eyes and he quickly unbuttoned the front of her blouse. “I want to see you, all of you.”
She’d expected this. Many body slaves weren’t allowed to cover themselves. They were expected to be ready, willing and able to satisfy any need at any time. She toed off her shoes, tugged off her socks then shrugged out of her blouse. Her breasts were small and round, so she seldom bothered with a bra.
“Oh gods.” He groaned as he cupped one of her breasts and bent to lick the other. “You’re perfect, just perfect.”
He couldn’t see her face so she allowed herself to grin. He clearly didn’t get out much. Her body was average, ordinary. Still, an unfamiliar warmth washed over her at the praise. It had been a long time since anyone even pretended that she was special.
Without lifting his head, he unfastened her pants and pushed them down until they bunched around her knees. Then he lost interest in the task and slipped one of his hands between her thighs as the other pressed against the small of her back. He touched her boldly now, all hesitation gone. He didn’t seem to have a lot of experience, but he knew enough to stroke her clit as his fingers eased into her core.
“That’s good.” She sighed then wiggled out of her pants, giving him better access to her sex. His hands moved restlessly from one area to the next as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch her. Unless she was willing to play obedient slave for the duration of her stay on this ship, she needed to take control of the situation. “I want to please you.” She used a soft airy tone as if his touch had already made her breathless. She guided his hand away from her body then quickly sank to her knees.
“You don’t have to…” Even as the words escaped his mouth, he let her unfasten his uniform pants.
“Please. I want to.” Without bothering to undress him completely, she stroked his shaft and teased his tip with her tongue. He groaned and shuddered as if he’d never felt anything so wonderful. If he’d been raised by the military, as so many battle born males were, his opportunities for pleasure would have been few and far between.
Tilting her head back so she could watch his face, she slowly sucked his hardened
length into her mouth. His neck arched, eyes tightly closed, as rapture overtook his expression. Such a simple act and already he was captive to her skill. She’d use pleasure to control him, subtly shaping his decisions as she made him desperate for release. She wasn’t yet sure what she wanted from him, but one thing was certain already. Before she was finished with Fyran, he’d obey her every command.
* * * * *
Chandar rushed across the courtyard and into her suite, terrified that someone would see her. The door slid closed behind her and she pressed her hand over her rapidly thumping heart. What was wrong with her? Even if someone realized she’d spent a few hours in Raylon’s arms, what difference would it make to anyone? They were both consenting adults and neither was committed to another. So why should anyone care what they did?
Frustration pushed a sigh past her lips as she went to the bathroom and took a quick shower. Sleeping in Raylon’s arms had been wonderful, comforting. Yet it also made her restless and discontent. If she wanted him to see her as more than a victim, she had to stop acting like one. Her memory of the past two years was still fragmented and hazy, but one thing was emerging from the mist. She had once been strong and confident, brave enough to defy her captors despite everything they’d done to her. She wanted to be that person again, needed Raylon to see the real Chandar.
As if in response to her conclusion, a memory surged to the surface in her mind. The scene had been part of the flickering deluge, but she remembered it clearly now. She stood toe to toe with Akim, angry, yet unafraid.
“Why do you continue to defy me?” His voice was cold and demanding. “Everything would be so much easier if you would just obey.”
“I spent the last three days meditating.”
“What else would you do? There’s nothing to destroy in the holding cell,” he countered with a cruel smile.
“My vison quests have never failed when I focus that completely.” It wasn’t an idle boast, but a statement of fact.
Defender (Battle Born Book 4) Page 6
