Feral Flaw

by Feral Flaw (lit)

  More than he could ever imagine. "Yes. She has promised not to chase after me again." To listen. To focus on keeping the baby safe so I can protect her in my own way.

  "And you take her vows as truth now?" Arken's questioning gaze demanded a reply.

  Finally. "We have come to an understanding."

  "But she refuses to remain on The Undertaker." Arken sighed. "We bring these things upon ourselves, Goro." He paced in and out of the darkness and blue lighting.

  Am I to hear that logic at every turn?

  Arken's commanding gaze locked on mine through the murky blackness of the room. "Take your mate and seek a safe haven for your child on a remote inconspicuous planet where you feel comfortable. Welcome the child of legend. There are simply too many dangers aboard a starship. Even if they may only seem to lurk inside your mate's thoughts."

  Decommissioned first and now excommunicated by The Cause? "So I am useless to serve? I've lost all respect for my service and must leave The Cause?"

  A smile softened the commander's stoic mask. "You report to Destiny. My job is merely to remind you of that duty." Arken began pacing left again. "I think you've always known this. Why you cannot see it now remains the question to answer."

  * * * *

  Goro had pondered how fitting his mate into the grander scheme of war during her pregnancy just wasn't going to be easy with every one of his drumming footfalls leading him back to the silver door of his private quarters. Arken revealed all with the greatest clarity. Darla should be happy now. We were leaving. And Arken seemed to respect me. Combine that with Destiny's plan and I'm leaving with my honor intact. In our mating, we chose to carry out Destiny's plan. But Darla seemed so soft these days. So fragile. I'm going to be more careful. More attentive. I stepped past the sliding door leading into my personal quarters.

  "I'm sorry I embarrassed you." Her honest gaze begged for forgiveness where those eyes locked upon me. She stood in the gently draping pale blue silk gown.

  My gift.

  Was she waiting for me? For something? I crossed the space to stand before her.

  Beauty. That's what she was. The most heavenly body any man could stand before the way the gown clung to her breasts. The way her loose brown hair framed her glorious body down to her hips. A goddess.

  My goddess in her gown of purest water reflecting the cloudy mist, with her hair the color of the most fertile earth. All promised the greenest life would spring forth from her. My child. The child of legend. Was she even she real? If I dared touch her, would she vanish like a swirling vapor? Like Xquine. My gaze slid to hers. "You're beautiful."

  A smile took hold of her features and yanked away the questions her face held. "Black never was my favorite color. But it can sure help a girl when she's acting like a crazy witch. I'd choose this dress over leather any day."

  All for the greater good of free thinkers and Destiny. Arken was right. Truth has been there all along. I never worked for anyone other than Destiny. And I should have realized Darla and I no longer belonged here.

  "So, you don't want to tell me that we're staying here? I mean. It's all right. I'm with you. Whatever you must do. I know I can trust you."

  The declaration of love could fuel and win battles. But her last four words were more important than hearing her proclaim her love. I snatched the curvaceous goddess into my arms and studied the flurry of thoughts dancing in her dark eyes.

  What phantoms seduced him therein? Not phantoms. The future.

  The future no longer revolved around grasping at what I was. I had to face those phantoms. Face my fears. Face the fear of losing what I was. Welcome the unknown. And in those dark eyes lay my Destiny.

  "What are you thinking, Goro?"

  Too many things to risk speaking and overwhelming her. "I couldn't have made a wiser choice in mates."

  Her warm palms settled against the muscles in my upper arms. She seemed to withdraw but her mischievous lowering of her chin only made her appear to shrink away. She stared up at me through her dark lashes. "I thought you might regret that after I ruined your hunt for the skulls."

  "You merely interjected the truth of the matter. You are more important than whatever The Cause decides to order me to do. And those orders were nothing but a farce. We know where the last skull is. My life among free thinkers has turned into a farce." Now, my life is Darla. I crushed my lips over hers and thrust my tongue inside her warm hungry mouth.

  An alarm blared.

  Not an attack. They had to get off The Meditator. I broke free of her lips and stared into her wide eyes. "Get your pants on, Darla."

  With my assistance in dressing, they ran through the chaotic corridors within minutes. Darla had a death grip on the gown.

  They had to reach the docking bay. Only one thing could keep her alive. Her pod fighter the universe so generously provided. That singular piece of exotic armor would ensure she survived. Hopefully, the baby was on the way. If anything happens to me, I've done my part to shift the powers of the universe.

  The Meditator vibrated with such violent force they both fell against the hard trembling wall.

  Pain shot from my elbow to my shoulder.

  An enormous impact. Or explosion. The ship could blow. They had to reach the docking bay. I grabbed my waist and shoved her back toward the lift.

  "I'm with you," she shouted as we jumped over scrambling crew members.

  The lift wouldn't open.

  Gods' jest. Voldon was a bastard. This was not the time to remove Destiny from the equation. "Back. Go back to a room."

  Not more than an earth hour later, Goro hid with his mate, biding his time, waiting as the crew members were rounded up, one by one, and dragged from the corridor by Voldon's zombified army, through a hole blasted in the wall. All I could do was hide until an opportunity to reach the docking bay arose. Basic functions in the ship had ceased other than life support. Apparently, the navigators and controllers were enslaved already. All I could do was duck into an open door and force Darla to change her clothing. If she didn't look like a were-assassin, she might not be exterminated on sight.

  "Are they coming in our direction yet?" she whispered, yanking the blue gown's hem down around her body.

  Something tells me she doesn't want to hear yes. But the screaming and the shouting kept creeping closer and closer. I watched the soldiers' distorted red reflections in the door opposite the room where they hid.

  The smears dragged a woman out of her quarters.

  "Can you hide somewhere? I can go with them. You can follow," she whispered.

  She'd lost her mind. I peered into her incredibly serious gaze. "You're insane. I'm not leaving you."

  "Voldon wants me most. Nothing will happen to me."

  She spoke truth. But how can I let her go? They had come to enslave the survivors. Not my mate and child.

  "Let me save us for now. Crazy Darla's one Hell of a bitch. They'll fry your ass to ashes if you don't. Who'll save me then? I've got one full syringe. And you?"

  Footsteps stormed toward them.

  Damn, what else could we do?

  "In the shower." She shoved me toward the lavatory.

  Her plan was the only chance we had in facing Voldon's troops and their incendiary torches that would turn organic material into ash with one flash. And we both are armed with syringes. She could work her way through the madness pretending to be someone else. "Do not fight them. Just play along." I slammed a kiss on her lips and hid in the shower.

  Somehow, I'd follow her.

  Unless the soldiers torched everything.

  Hopefully, my seed germinated and legends wouldn't die.

  * * * *

  Essentially weaponless when facing a torch, Darla slammed her bare shoulder blades up against the cold hard wall, acting as if she were the only person in the cabin, hiding right beyond the door. No projectiles, she had promised. Goro said play along. I'm just going along with the game. Just playing the part. Would my outfit fool them all? Why did I
suddenly feel dead? Because this wasn't a game in a controlled environment back on The Seeker. And The Meditator was just as dead. Being harvested of its parts, its very soul, by an insane humanoid.

  Footsteps thundered toward me.

  I can do this. Weapon's or not, someone's got to save Goro. And I can hurl projectiles with the best of them. I've just got to wait for the right moment.

  My heart pounded harder than it ever had in my life.

  A body slid across the threshold, dressed in plain red jacket and pants. The man's black boots gleamed beneath the muted overhead lighting as if teasing they didn't have one drop of blood on them.

  That's a good sign. Act the captive. Pretend Voldon is a godsend. I stepped away from the wall, assertively. "It's about time Voldon got around to saving me. I'm Darla, his mate. Take me to my child."

  A second soldier stepped into the room, sized me up from head to toe with a formidable gaze, and shot a speculative glance at the other man.

  Would they play along?

  "As you wish, mistress," the first one who had arrived said in English.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Goro blasted into the Crellon ship and ejected the crew of three females into space in a life pod. Just killing them wasn't easy, he thought. They just might be someone else's mates. Slavers, yes. But anything but Mawshwucs. And there was no time to waste with Darla headed straight for Voldon's palace. The only way to save her was to use the Crellon spacecraft to hop wormhole relays, splicing the few wormholes between quadrants that I knew secret Crellon technology had been doing for a millennium. The clock counted down faster and faster.

  If he didn't hurry, Darla would shape shift-our moment of truth only Darla would pay for in my absence. But Voldon would probably try to detain Darla's were-form long enough to capture me and throw us together in his arena. The animal had a thing for killing were-assassins in were-form in public.

  This was not the time to fail my mate.

  * * * *

  Surprisingly, Darla found herself locked in an extremely clean private containment cell aboard a spacecraft instead of taken straight away to Voldon. Two guards had been left to protect me, she noted. But who needed protection from air? Albeit the gown's spaghetti straps and dipping v-neck didn't provide much warmth. Was this some omen that Goro died when they blew up the starship?

  My gut flopped at the thought.

  Negative thoughts will do me in. I've got to believe he's coming for me because my imprisonment meant Voldon must have reservations about my time spent on The Seeker with his arch rival. But things could be far worse. The guards hadn't touched me. Crellon ethics apparently aren't universal. I still packed my syringe-a three-day reprieve from shape shifting on a good day inside my boot. Unfortunately, my blood-lust symptoms without a sexual reprieve would definitely suggest pregnancy. Since two days had passed en route through wormholes, asteroid belts, and even nebulas. Two shots were gone…

  Apparently, Voldon hid out on his turf while he sent out his dogs to do his dirty work. I have to hand it to the bastard. His guards did what they were told without any missteps. Nobody even spoke to me. Nothing. Not even a get a move on was uttered.

  Nor did anyone cast me one unkind look.

  They delivered my food-something akin to home cooking from earth. Voldon apparently still toiled to gain my favoritism by using familiar things to win me over. All of which was a good sign for someone who needed all the time she could manage to accumulate. So I have three days, universe. Where is my mate? I slid my gaze across the sterile white floor to the guard beyond a cell wall composed of an energy grid.

  The guard with a reptilian look, either scales or a natural patterning to his skin that gave the impression of scales, slid another covered dish of food through the slot at the bottom of my glowing containment wall by using the end of his long alien wooden weapon to prod the plate into motion.

  I'm definitely not being tortured by starvation.

  Where was Goro? Three days. I have three bloody days before I can't control the blood lust. And then I have no cards left to play. That is if Voldon doesn't know I'm mated.

  Could he know? In regards to my treatment, I'd think he had no clue. Factor in how clueless these guards were when I'd secretly shot up with my back turned to them.

  But how far will secrets carry me?

  I need you, Goro.

  * * * *

  Two shots later, the guards led Darla down the starship's sterile corridor toward a display of dangling masks. Why did those rubber lovelies make me want to run back to my cell? Maybe the fact that the planet the spacecraft landed upon wasn't anything like home had something to do with the urge.

  One by one, the guards yanked the masks over their heads, positioning them over their faces.

  The reptilian guard handed her one. "Wear this."

  Thank the universe Lizard Guy's first words I heard since my capture were helpful. If the mask had been anything other than a visor with some backless soft rubbery seal around the edges, I would have been screwed and looked the idiot in trying to put on the contraption. But the universe seemed to want to spare me more embarrassment today. I copied what the guards had done with their masks.

  The soft seal latched onto the contour of my face as if it had a mind of its own.

  Weird. I drew a breath.

  And another.

  The air grew warm and moist inside the microenvironment.

  They led me through an air lock and then outside, into bright blue light.

  The palest blue light. So blue it was almost white. But not as white as on Earth. Or the masks were tinted.

  The Meditator's crew trailed along single file, guarded by soldiers with torches-vile weapons that reduced organic materials to ash in a second. Weapons only cowards used to keep the enemy at a safe distance. Not something you want to find yourself on the business end of…

  Everyone wore an air mask. Whatever the device filtered, it could keep on working. Although, it was nice to know I could rip off my mask and die. Or steal a torch from a guard. But risking exposing my true allegiance was stupid. I have one shot left. I'm holding out my telekinetic card until I have no choice but to steal a torch.

  The winding trail of crew members in white uniforms meandered toward a giant transparent dome. Beyond the sparkling material thrust the most garish castle covered with frilly ornamentation and waving pennants at the tops of delicate towers topped with orbs. Unlike anything back on Earth. Whatever Voldon wanted presented to the world, sure looked strangely confusing. He was either pompous and frivolous or sending a message I couldn't decipher.

  Nice approach to confusing the enemy.

  The guards forced the captives through a gateway that looked anything but medieval. The framework was metallic and enthusiastically curvaceous, for the lack of a better description. Something optimistic glistened in the high sheen of the metal's swirls.

  Why did I feel like I was reading everything wrong?

  When the gate finally closed behind the winding column, the guards began removing their masks. But who breathed what?

  Not all the captives cared to risk breathing the air without a filter. The guards rammed objects into The Meditator's crewmen until they all removed their masks.

  Is this air okay to breathe? By the looks of those balking at testing the air, I ought to keep my mask on.

  One of the guards poked my back with a torch.

  Lizard Guy, prodding me to follow suit. Do or die. Oh well, maybe the problem will resolve itself with a few deep breaths. I wriggled my fingers beneath the mask's soft seal and popped it off.

  Crisp fresh air like a fall day minus the cool temperature filled my lungs.

  How can air be crisp without being cold? The answer had to be some planetary thing. Maybe some plant released a strange aroma.

  The guards led me onward.

  Through a bizarre place harboring tidy low walls fashioned from boulders, clean paths paved of stone, and all sorts of shrubbery carved in geomet
ric shapes to match the metalwork at the gate and castle. I suppose I expected heads on pikes, piles of decomposing bodies, and refuse everywhere. Or at least serious destruction from warfare. But this odd garden-type-tidy-castle beauty totally shocked me.

  The line of captives turned to wind around the castle's outer wall.

  Apparently, we're the riffraff. Or so I thought until I ended up being guided directly onto the castle's grounds.

  Lizard Guy ushered me to a large metal door decorated with all same the motif I'd passed along the castle's exterior, and he shoved the door wide.

  The door fell into a brilliantly lit cavernous room filled with all sorts of humanoids wearing exotic outfits. Feathers, leather, glinting metals, gemstones, everything that could have been used to adorn a person was in that room on somebody's clothing. I guess not everything given nobody wore body parts… The crowd stood before sheets of shiny orange fabric, curtaining the far walls in the strange awkward silence of the world of mindspeak.

  Good. Maybe I don't want to know what they're saying.

  The crowd parted magically. A broad path led to a golden throne at least a football field away. Perched on his fancy chair, the scantily-clad dark-haired man I met over three years ago slouched with boredom. Or something. Voldon didn't seem to care I was present.

  Lizard Guy nudged my elbow.

  What now? Meet the little gremlin? Be forced to have sex with Voldon? Death wasn't such a bad thing now that I'm facing the bastard alone. Damn, didn't I tell Goro I was afraid of being alone? And here I stand even farther from Earth. Lost in deep space. Isolated wearing invisible shackles. A captive. For what? To borrow time. Crazy Darla, pay attention. You're up.

  What would Voldon do?

  Okay. I just need to play it cool.

  Voldon couldn't read lesser-evolved minds. So, my thoughts are safe. I can lie till I run out of blood. Then I'll just have to rip some heads off in big bad wolf form. Run for my life. Do the general mayhem thing until Goro shows up, or I die. I inhaled and headed across the ocean of smooth tile.

  "Darla," Voldon called out where he leaned into the crook of his throne.