by Tracy Lauren
“No,” he says, plopping down on the bed, contemplating his answer. “It bothered me to be tethered to a desk, but I would have stayed for much longer if it had not been for Rennek’s call. His proper family had requested his aid on one of Tennir’s scientific endeavors, and of course he leapt at the opportunity, but he needed a crew and so he called on the rest of us. We all grew up together on Javan, you see. My friends, they are like family to me.”
I tense at his words, which highlight the stark contrast between Dax and me. Sure, I’ve thought about the humans I left behind, but I haven’t once considered Dax’s friends, who risked themselves time and again to rescue us for no other reason than the kindness of their hearts. I haven’t once considered all the people Dax left behind or what may have happened to them.
Dax continues talking, not noticing my frown. “I was so relieved when Rennek called on me to assist him, it was as if the goddesses opened a door in the universe just for me.”
“Do you have family?” I ask trepidatiously, fearing the answer. I don’t want Dax to be as alone as I am. It wouldn’t be fair for someone as good as him to be all alone. “Other than your friends I mean?”
“I have a proper family, of course. My mother and her parents.”
“What is this proper family business about?”
“I am considered a bastard, you know. I am not a ‘true’ member of my proper family,” he explains.
“I don’t think I understand.”
He pulls me to sit next to him on the bed and I relent, leaning back on my elbows so I can take in the picture that is Dax. He turns to look down at me, that constant smile of his playing at his lips.
“My mother was still young during The Invasion, probably about your age now. Though it was a dark time, she met my father and they fell in love. Eventually the invaders left, taking my father with them, and my mother was left to raise me alone. For some years she had the help of her parents, but that was a difficult time in its own right,” Dax explains.
“While my mother loves me very much and does not abide by this ‘proper family’ business, my grandparents were quite the opposite. They were furious she had a fledgling without being formally bound to a mate and tried to insist upon this lie of rape that so many of my brothers have been forced to live by. She was still dependent on them in many ways back then and had to endure much hardship.”
“That’s awful, Dax,” I tell him.
“Eh, it was not so bad.” He shrugs. “I was such a little thing then I did not see their distaste for me clearly at the time. Eventually it became more than my mother could stand and we departed. It was just the two of us then, and though we had very little in the way of luxury, those days are still the source of my most fond memories.”
“But still you grew up on Javan? That’s like a prison planet or something, right?”
“No, it is internment. The purpose is to mold those of dubious birth into honorable males. Internment is just the way of things, there is no fighting it. I still spent vacation time with my mother, and every so often she would come and steal me away for a few weeks of fun. That is likely where I got my sense of adventure.”
“So, your mom’s still around then?”
“Yes, after The Invasion she quit the career path she had been following and decided to become a documentarian. She travels to places where injustices are done and records accounts, takes images of the horrors she comes across. It is a dark profession, but one that has allowed her to find her own sense of healing. Though, when it began I believe that she was searching for something else.”
“Or someone?” I add.
Dax nods. “I believe a part of her is still looking, asking questions, and gathering clues. But as the years passed she developed a true passion. She lives now to tell other people’s stories, going to very dangerous worlds and shining a light on injustice. I admire her very much,” he says dreamily, seeming to get lost in thought.
“In some ways you remind me of her,” he tells me suddenly.
“I can’t imagine how. Is she a brunette?” I ask with a rueful laugh, because truly, I cannot imagine what in the world I would have in common with a brave woman like that.
“The way you are with the young. Caring. Kind. Real.”
“Oh.”
“You are a good pilot like her, too.”
“You’re being too generous with your assessments, Dax. When it comes to piloting I have one skill and even that is on the wane.”
“What is it?” he asks.
“Blind luck,” I reply, causing Dax to laugh.
“You are a funny one, V, when you allow yourself to be. But you and I both know that your skills are not luck alone, and besides, part of me thinks you are beginning to enjoy it.”
“Part luck, part skill, what’s it matter? Everyone’s luck runs out eventually and then what are you left with?”
“Skill?” Dax supplements.
“I was going to say you’re left picking up the pieces…”
“I like mine better then,” he tells me.
“Of course you do.”
“Let me take you out tonight, V. Let’s have some fun in the game house or visit the bars in the merchant district.”
All I can do is groan.
“And if I tell you of how much fun you will have fun?”
“I’d call you a liar,” I laugh.
“I never lie, my sweet V.”
“Then just promise I’ll be safe and I’ll go.”
“I do not make promises I can’t keep,” he says with a frown. “But that does not mean we should not go out.”
“Wait, what? You can’t promise that I’ll be safe?”
“I can promise you that I will stay by your side and that I will do everything in my power to protect you. I will even point out that it is highly unlikely that anything bad will happen here on Quar. But I am no fortune teller, I cannot foresee the future, and I do not make promises that might one day make a liar out of me.”
“Fine, as long as you don’t expect any danger. I guess we have to get out of here to eat anyway, right?”
“Or we can eat in bed,” he says in a sultry voice, leaning down on top of me suddenly. I startle and scramble away, jumping out of the bed.
“Quit playing! Let’s go get some dinner or whatever it is you want to do,” I huff out, exasperated and flushed with embarrassment. His stupid teasing is doing a number on my crush. I wish he would just drop the flirty act so I could stop obsessing over him.
“I have one condition,” Dax demands.
“Fine, what is it?”
“I get to bathe you first.”
“Nope. Try again.”
“I get to pick out your attire for the evening.”
“Hmm…” I grumble. “Okay, that’s fine I guess.”
“Wonderful,” he says, hopping up from his seat on the bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask when he runs to grab a tablet from the entryway and begins typing away at it.
“Ordering your clothes, of course.”
“Ordering? I thought you were going to pick something from my bag.”
“What would be the fun in that?” he mumbles, engrossed in the clothing selection on the tablet.
“At least let me see,” I say, reaching up on my tiptoes to see the screen.
“Ah, ah, ah. You have already agreed, and I do not want you to renege on our deal, so there will be no peeking!”
“What have I gotten myself into?” I say to myself, plopping back down onto the bed.
“What’s that?” he calls to me.
“Nothing, just a question I keep asking myself…”
Chapter 24
Dax
My V. Sometimes I do not know what goes on in her troubled mind, but I do know that she keeps me at bay.
Perhaps I am an odd one, I find that I like this dance we do. It is an exercise in my patience. Every gain I make in earning more of her trust is like a coveted prize. I would not rush this experience for
the world. I know what the end result will be, even if she does not see it yet. V will be my mate. We are perfect for one another in all ways.
My only concern is that she rebuts my every attempt to flirt with her. Earlier, I felt mixed emotions when she accused me of flirting with the female who sold us our room. Though I had a definite sense of pride over her jealousy…is she staking her claim on me in some human fashion? I was also highly dismayed that she would think I would dishonor her in such a way. I would never give my affections to another female, nor would I flaunt such a thing right under her nose.
Luckily her dark mood seemed to pass and even now she seems lighter in spirit as she dresses for the evening.
“Are you sure you do not need my assistance?” I ask her.
“Stop peeking!” she squeals.
“I am not peeking,” I insist as I watch her struggle to climb into her attire.
“Dax, a thick fog would offer more coverage than these curtains. I can see you looking at me,” she says plainly.
“I think I got it now,” she says tugging at her clothing and muttering curses under her breath. My V is beginning to have quite a dirty mouth. She pulls the curtain aside and no longer is she a tantalizing silhouette behind a sheet of white. She is a delight to my senses. My eyes roam over her body, from her meaty and bare thighs to her slender waist. I try not to linger for too long at her breasts, but I likely fail at that endeavor because she begins shifting under my lusty gaze.
“It’s too revealing. I feel stupid,” she admits, crossing her arms over her chest.
I stand and approach her, watching the subtle uplift of her chin as her eyes remain locked on mine. “Do not feel stupid. Feel beautiful, for that is what you are,” I tell her tugging and straightening the straps of her clothing.
She huffs at me.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask
“Can you help me with my hair first?” she asks shyly.
I smile at the opportunity to pull her onto my lap. Taking her hand, I lead her over to the bed. I nearly groan aloud as the softness of her skin brushes against my own thighs and she settles squarely over my cock. Clearly, this female does not know what she does to me.
“How would you like it?” I ask.
“I don’t know, surprise me,” she says, and I get to work. “I’ve never known what to do with my hair,” she admits after a moment.
“Luckily, I am excellent at such things. We are a good match in that way,” I tell her.
“Yeah, a match made in heaven. I’ve been searching my whole life for a man who can do my hair for me,” she says, and my hands still.
“Is this true?” I ask.
She scoffs, “No, Dax, I was being sarcastic. Don’t worry, I’m not going to start crushing on you just because you can do a French braid.”
“That is a shame,” I tell her, tying off the end of her braid. Tonight I have opted for a tighter look that goes well with the clothing I have chosen for my V. She stands, and I follow her to the mirror.
“What do you think?” I ask her.
“I look like someone else. I love it,” she says, turning to assess her body in the tight and strappy jumpsuit she wears.
I frown at her words. “You look like V to me,” I tell her.
“Yeah, a few weeks ago I was Prudence, so V is looking pretty good to me right about now.”
“She is looking good to me as well,” I growl as she preens herself in the mirror. She freezes, and her eyes shift to my reflection in the mirror. A heated second passes between us, but the spell is broken when she rolls her eyes at me.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get going. Are you sure it’s okay for me to walk around like this? Are people going to be mistaking me for a goddess all night?”
“Without a doubt,” I reply, still watching her with hungry eyes.
“Dax, you know I’m uncomfortable with a lot of attention. Maybe I should just wear a cloak or something?”
“I will be by your side to protect you, my V. You have nothing to fear as long as I am with you.”
She freezes at my words and looks up at me with those wide eyes of hers. “I believe that, Dax,” she tells me, her tone laced with sincerity. “I really do.” She runs her hand up my arm, and I hear that drumming once more. It is loud and insistent, but I cannot bring myself to break V’s gaze to search for its source. I do not know what I said to bring on this rare expression of intimacy, but I do not want to miss this moment. Suddenly, though, the hand that seductively slid up my arm, gives me a firm pat on the shoulder and V marches toward the door with resolve.
“Let’s get this over with,” she calls back to me.
I shake myself, raking my hands over my face. I laugh. This slow dance is such delicious torture.
My mate visibly bristles when we walk through the bottom level of the hotel. The music stutters as the musicians see her and conversations drop away. I see the female at the front desk point at V and whisper something to another employee who stands nearby.
“I don’t like this, Dax,” she tells me in a hushed tone as we exit the building. I wrap my arm around her and pull her close so that her body is huddled next to mine. After a moment her arm slips around my waist and I feel her tension lessen.
The sun still shines outside, but the heat from the day slowly slips away. I lead V in the direction of the shops. Most remain open late into the night and are often even more busy under the moons of Quar than they are during the daytime hours. Perhaps V will see something she likes. I would enjoy finding a gift for her, to bring a smile to her face. It makes me wonder over the things that might please her.
I remember seeing a silky and embroidered robe as we passed the shops earlier. Would V enjoy such a thing? Or perhaps a small trinket box inlaid with gemstones. Maybe a piece of jewelry? I consider how a delicate pendant would look around her slender neck. V’s steps abruptly falter.
“What is it?” I ask, pulled from my thoughts.
“Look,” she says, pointing into the shadows between two stalls. I see the flicker of yellow eyes catching the sunlight. Caught in the act of trailing us, a group of children come running out from their hiding place. About half a dozen Baudouine fledglings scatter to find new hiding places along the store fronts. One particularly conspicuous child hides within a rack of those embroidered robes I had been eyeing for my V.
“Is that—?” she begins to ask.
“The child from before? Yes. It seems you have admirers,” I laugh, leading her to the clothing rack.
V kneels down, eye level with the little feathery bump under the robes, and pulls the fabric back. “Hello there,” she says sweetly. The little child’s eyes go wide and he bolts away from us.
“He’s scared of me,” she says with dismay. Noticing my attempt to stifle laughter, her eyes narrow. “No, the irony is not lost on me, the biggest scaredy cat on the planet.”
“It takes some longer to warm up than others. I am sure you will be best of friends by the end of our time here,” I assure her, squeezing her back to my side. We continue our slow pace along the store fronts, and V takes in the wares this time, but her eyes keep going back to the Baudouine children who occasionally dart out from behind a stall only to run ahead and hide again.
“What are they doing?” she whispers.
“Spying on you,” I tell her with a smile.
“Why? I mean, I know that some people think humans look like these goddesses or whatever, but still, I’m not that interesting.”
“I would have to disagree with that assessment.”
She huffs, dismissing my comment and looking away from me. It is silent between us again, a valley that I must somehow bridge.
“Do you see anything you like? Or anything you might need to make daily living more comfortable?”
Her eyes scan the shops.
“Tell me if you see something you would like to have.”
“I wouldn’t normally like the idea of someone buying things for me, but I guess you are rich…�
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“Pick out anything you would like; it would bring me pleasure to know you have everything you need.”
I watch her eyes to see where they linger, but she shows no interest in the items I would have chosen for her.
“Maybe we should get something for the kids?” she asks, looking up at me for my approval.
“That is a wonderful idea. Did you have something in mind?” We both look up to the shop we stand in front of. It specializes in handheld weapons.
