by Ruby Dixon
She sighs. “Well, at least you’re honest. All right, I’m coming with you.” She points a finger at me. “No rape.”
I’m amused at how she’s making demands, despite the fact that she’s clearly not the one in power in this situation. Fierce little one. I love that. “If I wanted to rape you, my sweet, would I have not done so already?”
“Not if your little Kivian doesn’t like a show,” she retorts.
I burst into laughter. So she caught that, did she?
Sentorr just gestures at the door. “If we’re all done here, can we please go before the station security is alerted to our actions?”
I nod and put a hand on the human’s back. “Come. Stay close to me.”
She automatically moves closer, and her hand goes to my belt, as if she needs to latch on out of fear of being left behind. It fills me with a near-unholy sense of pleasure.
“Is that your name?” she whispers a moment later. “Kivian?”
“Sav Kivian Bakhtavis,” I tell her with a playful grin. “At your service. And now, it’s time for us to go.”
FRAN
The unreality of the situation keeps growing. I keep expecting to wake up and find this all to be a dream. Or only half a dream, and I’ll wake back up in the cage with someone throwing “human feed” at me like I’m a pet chicken.
Instead of being the slave of frog-men, I’m…free? I think.
And instead of being surrounded by frog-men, I’m with big blue guys with horns that look a bit like I imagine the devil might look if he decided to be a space alien.
It’s all so bizarre.
“This is The Dancing Fool,” Kivian tells me as he leads me out of the narrow passageway and onto the dimly lit deck of what must be his ship. There’s dark metal and lit-up components everywhere, and all of it looks smooth and important and I’m afraid to touch anything. “She’s my ship, and she’ll be your home for the next while.”
“Dancing Fool, huh?” I rub my arms and hug them, because not only is it a little chilly and I’m wearing less than a diaper, but it helps keep my tits covered. “Doesn’t sound very pirate-y.”
“And that is exactly the point,” Kivian replies with an irrepressible grin. He immediately starts to strip off the layers of his ornately embellished clothing, like any man that’s just been given reprieve from going to a fancy dress party. “No one is going to stop a ship called something so ridiculous and assume they’re up to nefarious deeds.”
The other two aliens busy themselves removing their guns and then move past us, heading down the hall.
“Come,” Kivian tells me after he loosens the tight fabric at his neck and removes a layer of clothing. “Let’s get to the bridge so we can get out of here.”
“Wait,” I tell him as he moves past me. “Can I have a shirt? Or something I can wear to cover up?”
He turns to me and rubs his jaw. “Of course. I don’t suppose you run around in little more than a scarf on your home world, do you? I’ve heard humans are primitive, but I imagine that’s a bit more than primitive.”
“Yeah, sorry, I must have left my stone tools at home back in my cave,” I tell him sarcastically. “Can I have a shirt or not?”
Kivian watches me for a long moment, and my skin prickles. Maybe I’m being too lippy with him and he’s going to punish me. A slow grin spreads across his face, and then he shakes his head. “It seems I’m good at charming everyone but you.” He opens his shirt, undoing complicated fastenings with the blink of an eye, and then shrugs it off.
My body prickles with alarm, wondering if this is when the rape happens. I step back warily, but he only holds the shirt out to me. Oh.
“I’m not going to touch you without your permission,” he says in that calm, smooth voice. “When I said you were safe with me, I meant it. I won’t harm you, and neither will my crew.”
I study his face, wondering if this is a trick. If he’s fooling me like he fooled the frog-guys. But I see nothing but calm confidence in his expression. It takes me a moment to realize his words aren’t being filtered in through the ear piece. “You…you speak English?” I take the shirt from him and wrap it around my body, shoving my arms through the sleeves. It’s like wearing a blanket because he’s so large compared to most human guys, but I don’t mind. It’s warm and it covers everything, and that’s all that counts.
Kivian moves forward, all bare skin. I notice for the first time that he’s got a few old scars on his chest, white against the blue hue of his skin. Along one arm, dark black tattoos dance up his muscles in fascinatingly foreign patterns. He’s impressively built, and not just because he’s seven feet tall. It’s clear he works out. It’s also clear that the “armor” I thought I felt under his clothes was actually on his skin. He has hard ridges along shoulder and arm and across the center of his chest. He reaches for the front of the shirt and begins to move his fingers along the complicated knotwork of the ties, doing them up for me like I’m a child. Three fingers and a thumb, I notice. Just another bit of alienness.
Funny, because he’s the first guy that’s treated me like a person since I woke up a slave.
“I had my chip download your language the moment I saw you,” he says. “Thought it might be easier to communicate.”
“Chip?”
He taps one big finger against the back of his ear. “Language implant. They’re common these days, just like anti-virus implants and the like. Yours is…cheap. Effective but cheap and uncomfortable.”
I touch my ear, where the big bulb rubs against my skin. He’s not wrong.
“Come,” he says, finishing the ties on my shirt. “Time to go to the bridge before the others wonder if I’ve dragged you to my bunk.” Kivian gives me another flirty, easy grin and then turns, heading down the hall after the others and treating me to a show of upper-back plating, lower-back dimples, and a swish of his tail.
All right, then. I can go and find a shadowy spot to hide like a coward, or I can suck it up and go hang out on the bridge. Much as I want to hide—or sleep, sleep would be nice—I force myself to follow him down the passageway. His shirt’s so big that it brushes against my knees and the sleeves bury my hands. I shove them up my arms and then roll them up as I walk, trying to absorb everything about where I’m at.
I hate to say it, but the entire thing looks like it could have come out of a Star Trek episode or a space movie. I wonder if that’s coincidence, or if someone in Hollywood’s been visited by aliens himself. There are all kinds of panels on the walls—some dim and blank, some lit up with graphs and images and lights. There’s something that looks like a keyboard with a lot fewer keys, and Kivian moves his hand over it—not touching it—to open a door. The floor underneath my feet is cool and feels like ridged metal, and as we go inside the bridge of the ship, I see several workstations with big chairs, all of them occupied except the central one that clearly must belong to Kivian.
One of the big blue aliens turns and glares at us. His head is shaven, making his horns seem almost as prominent as the hawkish nose on his face. “About time.” His gaze flicks to me. “It’s bad luck to have pets on a ship, Bakhtavis.”
“She’s not a pet,” Kivian says easily. “She’s our guest.” He puts his hand on my shoulder and leads me forward. “Come sit in my chair. You can belt in so you’re safe on take-off.”
Well, that’s a welcome change from how Froggy treated me. I perch on the edge of his chair, feeling dwarfed by its great size. “What about you?”
He shrugs his big shoulders, moving forward to tap a button that makes straps spit out and conform to my body. “Do me good to get pitched around now and then.”
“So, wait. We’re keeping the human?” The shaved-head one frowns in my direction. “I thought we were just going after lethiul crystal?”
“Kivian found something else he wanted,” the biggest of the aliens says.
Someone groans.
“All of you, silence.” Kivian doesn’t sound irritated but amused. “J
ust tell me if you were able to swing the crystal while I was busy distracting our ooli friends.”
“Got the shipment…and a bit more, but not too much more. It’s not all that the kaskri asked for,” says one of the men.
“It’ll have to do. We’re leaving.” Kivian grins at me and grips the arm of the chair. “Hold on tight, little one.”
Hold on? Why?
“Surging,” one of the aliens says, and that’s the only warning I get before we shoot forward like a slingshot into outer space.
5
KIVIAN
The fragile human closes her eyes and rests in my captain’s chair. She’s dwarfed in my shirt, her strange soft skin covered from chin to knee.
I want to hold her close and protect her, but I know she wouldn’t welcome it. I have to clench my hands to keep from reaching out and caressing her rounded cheek. Soon enough, she’ll welcome my touches. I’ve never been spurned by a female I chased…not that I’ve ever chased particularly hard. I’ve always preferred a life of no encumbrances—romantic or otherwise—but I can tell that’s changed since I looked upon her.
Now I get why my fugitive brother is so happy on his keffing farm out on a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere. He gets his mate all to himself, no questions asked. Seems like a pretty good deal right about now.
I watch my female to make sure she’s comfortable, and then turn to look at my crew. I can feel their judgment even before I meet their eyes. They don’t like this. I can’t say I blame ‘em. I’m not sure I like it, either—I just know I have no choice in the matter. She’s mine.
Sentorr crosses his arms and just looks at me.
Alyvos scowls, his jaw clenched.
Tarekh just looks amused, as if I’m still playing a game or two of sticks and someone’s suddenly gotten the upper hand on me. Feels a bit like that, too, I have to admit. I feel completely lost but in a good way.
“Well?” Sentorr asks. “Going to explain yourself?”
I glance over at the female, but she’s still sleeping, her eyes closed. “He wasn’t kind to her. I couldn’t leave her there with him.” Everything in me rebels against the very idea.
“Not our fight,” Sentorr says.
“It is now. She belongs to me.”
Tarekh’s eyes widen. “It’s like that, then? You’re keeping a human pet, then?”
They misunderstand. I scrub a hand down my face, wondering how much I should admit to. “Not exactly. She’s her own person, not a pet. She’s just as intelligent as you or I, and I don’t plan on owning her or forcing her to submit to me like Jth’Hnai wanted to do to her.”
Tarekh laughs. “Then you mean…”
I shrug. I don’t feel the need to answer him. Not exactly. Not when Alyvos is giving me such a horrified look. He’ll just have to get used to the idea.
“You could have left her on the station,” Sentorr protests.
“So someone else can grab her and force her into slavery?” I snort and shake my head. “You know as well as I do that she wouldn’t last five minutes on her own. Not without a protector.”
“It’s a good thing you’re so kind-hearted,” Tarekh says slyly.
I shoot him a quelling look.
“The plan was just for the crystal,” Alyvos bites out, spreading his hands in frustration. “Now we have most of the crystal, we’ve pissed off our contacts, and we’ve stolen a contraband pet—“
“Not a pet,” I correct him again. I’m getting irritated at them. I knew they’d have a hard time with this, but for kef’s sake, it’s not like I’m making her captain and giving her a share.
Least, not yet.
“I can hear everything you’re saying,” the female murmurs in a low, sleepy voice. “I’m right here and I’m not an idiot. I have a translator in my ear and it’s telling me everything while I’m trying to take a nap.”
Tarekh laughs. Sentorr looks like he sucked on something sour. Alyvos scowls at me like it’s my fault.
“Go back to sleep, little one,” I tell her. “It’s going to be a while before we get out of the surge.”
“Is that like hyperspace?” She yawns and then blinks at me sleepily. A moment later, she curls her legs under her in the chair, all dainty elegance, and I cannot help but be utterly fascinated.
Little Kivian is as well.
“Hyperspace?” Sentorr echoes with disdain. “Never heard of such a thing.” He looks at me. “And you think humans aren’t primitive? Does she imagine us just flying through space on fossil fuels or some other crude nonsense?”
“Maybe she thinks we’re gods,” Alyvos continues, picking up the thread of conversation. “Maybe she’s going to worship us.”
Tarekh seems amused at the thought. “I don’t know if I’m keen on being worshiped. Perhaps—“
“Dude, seriously.” The female opens her eyes and gives us a dark glare. “Still right here. You’re all still talking over me like I’m the family dog.”
I chuckle, even though I don’t know what a dude or a dog is. All I know is that her indignation is charming. “You’ll have to forgive us if we’re not being proper hosts, little one. It’s been a long time since we carried a passenger.”
“Longer since we did it without pay,” Sentorr grumbles.
“You could ask me my name,” she says calmly. “That’d be a start.”
I’m utterly chagrined that we haven’t asked about herself, but I try to cover it. “What, you mean FuckYou isn’t your true name? I’m shocked.”
Her lips twitch with amusement, her body pressed back against my captain’s chair. The surge shakes and pushes at us as we shuttle through space at high speed. It’s only years of living on ships that allow me to keep my balance as the deck makes minute shifts under my feet over and over again and my ears pop repeatedly. I can only imagine the force it’s inflicting on her smaller frame. It’s not safe to retreat to personal quarters yet, but I wish it was. She looks as if she could sleep, and I can’t wait to be the one that gets to wake up next to her.
“Well?” I prompt when she doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to answer. “What do we call you?”
She yawns again. “Fran. My name is Fran.”
Fran. Fran. A strange, discordant sounding name for such a lovely, delicate being. I commit it to memory, even though she will always be “little one” to me. “Very well,” I murmur. “Fran it is.”
FRAN
I’m so tired. For the first time in what feels like forever, I can sleep and not worry about being groped or molested. There’s a weird, almost centrifugal force pushing down on me as we fly through space. “Surging,” they call it. Whatever it is, it’s exhausting. It constantly presses on me and makes my muscles feel as if they’re straining even when I’m sitting still. Despite that, I can’t help but fall asleep. I feel strangely safe despite being in the presence of four big blue aliens.
And I’m trying not to overthink what the big one said about me. Kivian. That’s his name. The one that gave me the shirt and lets me sit in his chair while he looms nearby, half naked and domineering without being pushy. It’s a strange combination, but then again, a lot about today has been strange. I drift in and out of sleep, but his words keep echoing in my mind.
You know as well as I do she wouldn’t last five minutes on her own.
I don’t plan on owning her or forcing her to submit to me.
She belongs to me.
She belongs to me.
She belongs to me.
The words ring in my head but without the menacing underlying meaning that Froggy’s words had when he said the same thing. Kivian’s words were said in an affectionate tone, and he’s not treating me the same as the other. Still, I can’t let my guard down entirely, but I’m also low on options. He’s not wrong that I wouldn’t last five minutes on my own. I’d be stranded in outer space with no money, no clothes, and only the barest hope of communication. Plus, if everyone looks at me as little more than an exotic puppy, I’m not going to get far.<
br />
I might not like or trust these men, but for the moment, I’m stuck with them.
I dream about food, and being held down. The dreams aren’t good ones, and I wake up constantly, jerked alert by the panic of being captured again, only to find that I’m still in Kivian’s chair, the endless push of the “surge” ongoing. It doesn’t make for restfulness, and the only reason I’m able to relax is that Kivian’s butt is directly in front of me as he sits on the dashboard in front of his chair, his tail flicking back and forth as he and his crew chat in low voices.
I wake up a short time later, gasping, my ears feeling unclogged for the first time in what must be hours. I rub one lobe, curious, and then I realize we’ve stopped. A jaw-breaking yawn escapes me and I sit upright. “Are we there?”
“Define ‘there,’ little one?” Kivian moves to the side of my chair, amusement on his blue face. He’s fascinating to look at, I have to admit. I’ve never seen an alien before, but if I had to create one to make him “just different enough” to be alien and just sexy enough to be attractive, it’d probably look like him. His features are bigger than a human’s, his cheekbones and chin more pronounced. His forehead is ridged and plated like his chest, but his eyes are dark and liquid and warm. And his lips…sheesh.
Those lips are just unfair. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about them.
But his response makes me worry just a little about the state of things. Where is “there,” exactly? I’m now on an alien spaceship with these guys, and I’m just as clueless as to my fate as before. I sit upright, uneasy. “Where are we going?”
“You mean in the next few minutes or in general?”
I purse my lips and give him a stern look. He seems to love to tease, this Kivian. Too bad for him I’m not in the mood. Being kidnapped by aliens, sold to a frog-man and then snatched a second time has worn me out. “Yes to both?”
He inclines his head, as if acknowledging his answer was a crappy one. “Overall, we are heading to the nearest asteroid belt. We’re going to get there, cloak our ship so it reads as just another object in a sea of floating objects, and then we’re going to lie low until the ooli are off our trail. That might be weeks. It might be a month. It might be two days…but I doubt it’ll be two days. Not with the amount of crystal we got away with.” He gives me a devilish grin. “That one’s going to sting for a while.”
