by Mary Auclair
Her survival depended on it.
“What is this mission you’re on? I can only assume it’s dangerous, and a secret.”
Hazel stared into Zaxis purple eyes, watching his most minute reactions carefully. His polished face didn’t betray anything, but his pupils slashed thinner in the amethyst sea of his eyes. Hazel didn’t know much, but she knew this meant she’d put her finger on something sensitive. Something worth digging for.
“Don’t overthink it.” Zaxis chuckled lightly but his eyes remained sharp, his look alert. “We’re just on a trading mission.”
“Trading mission, my ass.” Hazel bent over her bowl, bracing her elbows on the table. The memory of another set of purple eyes, cold and twisted, full of sickness, came to her mind. Hazel swallowed as the monster who had ruled over her entire life rushed to her from the dark recesses of her thoughts. “Something is up. I’ve never seen an Eok and an Avonie working together before.”
She watched as Zaxis’ eyes grew wider and he almost choked on his ration pouch. He recovered quickly, placing it gently down on the table before staring straight at her, all traces of subterfuge gone.
“Let this go, Hazel.” His voice was suddenly cold, his tone cutting, and she saw the male he truly was under all that exterior beauty. An intelligent, dangerous male, one she didn’t want to have as an enemy.
“I’d let it go if I wasn’t trapped here with you,” she answered in an even, soft voice. “I need to know what’s ahead of us. I need to know what I’m facing.”
Zaxis got to his feet, then looked at her for long seconds before shaking his head.
“I wish I could tell you, I really do. But I can’t, and you shouldn’t pry. I mean it, Hazel. It’s for your own good.”
There was regret in his voice, but also resolve. Resolve, and a kind of dread that made Hazel’s spine tingle with the awareness of danger. Whatever scared someone like Zaxis should terrify her.
She opened her mouth to speak, not really sure what she wanted to say, but having to say something anyway. Then she cried out as the entire ship seemed to move under her feet. The floor met her knees and her face banged against the table, pain shooting through her body as a primitive fear took hold of her.
Sirens blasted a deafening alarm above her head as Zaxis cursed from somewhere on the other side of the table.
The door to the small kitchen burst open to reveal the broad, imposing frame of Khal. His blue eyes scanned the room and found her, then he was immediately at her side. Arms as hard as rocks wrapped around her and Hazel instinctively leaned into the Eok’s strength.
“What the fuck is happening?” Hazel screamed above the blasting of the siren, scrambling to her feet as another, lesser jolt shook the ship. “Are we under attack?”
“No. It’s much worse than that.” Khal shook his head, but somehow, his face was even grimmer. “We’re being boarded.”
His arms were still around her as they moved, heavy and warm, making her feel strangely safe and small at the same time. Like as long as those arms were around her shoulders, nothing bad could happen.
It’s insane. I’m not safe. I’m the opposite of safe.
But there was no time to think, to reflect on the craziness of the moment. On the craziness of what Khal made her feel.
A great shock rippled through the metal skeleton of the Myrador, toppling the unbreakable china inside the cabinets and sending her bowl of food ration to the ground in a great splash of gray, sticky sludge.
Thankfully, all the furniture stayed put, heavy anchors bolting it to the ground, the cabinet doors held shut by powerful magnets. The Myrador was a state-of-the-art ship, and safety codes had been upheld scrupulously.
Around her, above her, Khal held her as strongly and surely as one of the metal anchors.
Then stillness invaded the Myrador. All Hazel could hear was the breathing of those aboard—Zaxis to the right, on the other side of the table, fast and heavy, and Khal’s, steady and slow, playing in her hair. Her own breathing was shallow and uneven, too fast.
Dark spots invaded her vision as she breathed faster, but she was still starved for air. Panic set into her body, into the very muscles covering her bones. She couldn’t move, couldn’t talk. All she could do was breathe faster and faster, but darkness still came.
They’ve breached the Myrador. We’re losing oxygen. We’re all going to die.
“Hazel.” Hands large enough to cover her entire shoulders and wrap behind her shoulder blades closed on her and Khal turned her to face him. His eyes settled on her, his rough, masculine features twisted in lines of worry. “Slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”
But she couldn’t. All she could do was breathe and breathe more. Panic ruled her body as her mind rebelled against the oncoming death. Space, its merciless, aseptic void surrounded her, so close she could almost taste it.
Then a hard set of lips closed over hers, stopping the supply of oxygen. Strong hands pressed her body against a hot, warm wall of flesh and Hazel shut her eyes. His taste was male and clean, the feeling of his lips over hers like a brand, his willpower seeping through the contact.
Soon, her panic receded until all that was left was Khal and his body against hers.
Then he stopped. Blue eyes met hers, and she found out the darkness was gone. Her breathing, though still fast and shallow, had slowed down.
“Thank you.” Her voice was breathless, but she could talk.
“Come.” Khal’s eyes were blazing, glittering from behind that blue curtain with something both fierce and possessive. Something totally and utterly male. “Stay close to me, and whatever you do, don’t speak.”
Hazel nodded, her mind still foggy with the remnants of panic. Khal didn’t give her time to recover. He grabbed her wrist in one large hand and half-dragged her along. From the corner of her eye, she saw Zaxis follow, his face grim and his back stiff.
Then there was no more time for anything else but running. Khal dragged her behind him, his long legs giving him a clear advantage, the sound of their feet against the metal floor pounding above the beating of her heart. She followed blindly, knowing she might be running to her death, but also knowing her best chances lay with the Eok and his companion.
They ran through the surprisingly spacious interior of the Myrador until Khal suddenly stopped. Hazel’s breath was jagged and her throat raw, and she had to brace her hands on her knees as they stood in a large room, lit from the ceiling by a series of round white lights.
Hazel let out a startled cry as the floor opened, revealing a wide ramp. Fog invaded the loading dock as the ramp lowered. Figures emerged from the fog: two tall, bulky frames and a smaller, shapely form in the middle.
Khal tensed at Hazel’s side, holding the handle of an ionic gun she hadn’t even seen him pull out.
The fog dispersed, revealing the identity of the figures waiting at the bottom of the ramp. The two tall, bulky forms were creatures Hazel had no name for, with brown, rough skin made of scales and all-black eyes slashed by vertical, bright yellow pupils. Two long holes in the middle of their faces made for their noses, and lipless mouths melted into chinless necks. Their tall, oblong foreheads were covered in bumpy scales.
“Shriklas,” Khal whispered to her. “Reptilian creatures. No sense of humor, and even worse tempers.”
“Noted.”
“Don’t piss them off.”
Hazel wholeheartedly agreed. She had no intention of pissing off these monstrous, snake-like creatures. In fact, the less interaction she had with them, the better.
Then Hazel looked at the creature in the middle and blinked.
The creature was obviously female, with luminescent, pale skin that seemed to shimmer and change under the light. The tones in her skin ranged from light purple to bright pink, moving in pattern with her steps like liquid paint under the surface. Almond-shaped, dark pink eyes stared directly at them with an arrogant shine from within an oval, pleasing face. The creature had rounded features, with smoo
th cheekbones and a high forehead covered in fine, short, fur-looking brown hair exposing long, round-pointed ears. Her body was female and curvy, rounded at the hips and with a small, elegant bosom, all clad in black synthetic leather, molding to her form like a second skin.
Hazel had no name for what that creature was, or even knew if there was a name for her. She was mesmerizing, and danger hovered about her like an aura.
“Arvak,” Khal whispered again. “I’ve only ever seen one once. Their homeland lies well beyond the Ring. I have no idea what this female is doing here.”
Hazel stared openly as the creature, flanked by the two Shriklas, stopped a mere ten feet in front of them. The creature opened her arms in a wide, welcoming gesture.
“Welcome aboard the Mother!” The creature’s voice was musical and harmonious, the end of her words sounding a bit like bells. She smiled, exposing a row of perfectly white teeth capped with two short fangs.
Hazel shot a glance first at Khal, then Zaxis as both visibly tensed at the information.
“The Mother?” Khal stood perfectly still as the Shriklas approached, his face set in an impervious line, no emotions filtering through. “And what would Roohl want with us? There is no bounty to be had aboard the Myrador.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” The creature’s smile turned cold and those dark pink eyes gleamed with a challenge.
Khal’s eyes reduced to thin, dangerous slits. “I am the captain of this ship. I get to decide who boards the Myrador, and who gets to take a look around.”
The creature’s skin turned a deadly, pale pink, and her shapely lips pursed to a thin line. Something flashed in her eyes, something defiant and angry, but also suspiciously pleased.
Or maybe Hazel had just lost her damned mind. Who would enjoy pissing off an Eok warrior?
“That used to be true.” The creature clicked her tongue with annoyance, but a sly smirk contradicted the display of frustration. “Eoks are used to being in charge. Used to being the powerful ones. But you being Eok doesn’t mean a thing aboard the Mother, so I’ll say it again. I’ll be the one to decide if there’s any bounty to be had aboard your ship, Captain.”
Silence filled the air following the creature’s words. A silence full of anticipation, full of violence yet to come. The two Shriklas stayed perfectly still, but Hazel could see the aura of danger surrounding their scaly forms. Even Zaxis stood mute, his long, slim limbs too still, his face hard and cold.
All eyes were set on Khal, like he held all their fates in his impossibly strong hands. And he did. Eoks were strong, and powerful enough to wage such violence that the newcomers would all be obliterated.
But Khal didn’t move. His all-seeing eyes were full of dark promises but his head inclined in acceptance, once.
“Good.” The creature nodded, but she still had to swallow nervously. She wasn’t fool enough to think she could beat Khal in hand to hand combat, then. “The name’s Celaith. Now, who in the Ring’s hell are you?”
Chapter 6
Khal
Khal stared at the Arvak female as they walked, still disbelieving that she was real. If humans had been a rare species before their liberation from Trade Minister Knut two years ago, then Arvaks were legends unto themselves.
Legends with a reputation for nasty tempers and unsavory attitudes.
How did Roohl find us? What does he know?
The possibilities were too many and the consequences too terrible to contemplate, but Khal had no choice. This was either a trick of fate of epic proportions, or a betrayal from deep within a very close circle. Finding a ship in the immensity of space was like pointing to a random star and finding home. It just wasn’t meant to be.
Who betrayed us?
Khal’s eyes slid with suspicion to Zaxis, but the Avonie male had just as much to lose as he did. Khal had been appointed by Prime Councilor Aav and found Zaxis at the rendezvous point in a shuttle that didn’t even have enough fuel to go back home. Zaxis was not the traitor.
Then ice ran down his veins as he turned his gaze to Hazel’s graceful profile. The human female’s pale moonlight hair bounced up and down as she walked and her face wore all the signs of fear, but she wouldn’t be the first female to have foiled a male into believing in her innocence, would she? But what would she have to gain?
He had believed her plea when she’d demanded to be sent to Earth. He had even contacted Representative Markus, the human in charge of the population on Earth, in order to find Hazel’s sister.
Was this all just manipulation? Who are you, really?
His jaw clenched as suspicion mixed with another emotion—one he was entirely sure he should not be feeling. Hurt. Hazel’s possible betrayal hurt him like a dagger between the ribs. He was getting way too emotional where the human was concerned. The mission was what mattered, above all else.
Even above Hazel.
Khal glanced over his shoulder to Zaxis. The Avonie male was following in silence but as they locked gazes, understanding passed between them.
They wouldn’t win an outright fight with the bounty hunters. The Mother was the largest ship of its kind in the Ring. It had been capable of beaming inside the Myrador, foiling the ship’s automatic escape systems, and had anchored it by force. It hosted a crew in the thousands, made up of bounty hunters of all species, all hardened in combat and as savage as their captain. Captain Roohl’s reputation for ruthlessness and violence had been hard earned amongst the generally disreputable profession, and Khal wasn’t eager to provoke him. Not with Hazel in the line of fire.
I know what Roohl is after. He’s after the prize of a lifetime. The prize to top all prizes.
Finally, Celaith stopped in front of the control room, then turned to face them again.
“You two, wait here.” She spoke curtly to the Shriklas. “Let me know when the captain gets in.”
The Shriklas hissed in tandem in response to the Arvak female’s order, but made no move to follow as she entered the control room, leaving the door open behind her. Hesitating for only one second, Khal entered, with Hazel close at his side and Zaxis closing the ranks.
As soon as they were inside, a sharp nod from Celaith had Zaxis close the door behind him. With the door finally closed, Celaith’s entire demeanor changed, going from arrogant confidence to urgent worry.
“We don’t have long.” Celaith spoke low, all traces of bravado gone from her voice. Her expressive skin turned a shade darker and whitish streaks marred her cheeks and forehead. “You need to tell me all you know on Knut before Roohl gets in.”
Shock made Khal blink, then blink again as anger replaced the surprise. This was definitively not a chance encounter, then. Someone had betrayed him.
“And what makes you think we know anything about Knut’s whereabouts?” Zaxis answered Celaith, his composure one of pristine countenance, betraying nothing of his emotions. Khal watched, a new respect coming up inside him at the sight of the Avonie. Zaxis knew how to react under pressure. “We are on a trading mission, nothing more.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Avonie,” Celaith retorted aggressively, her cheeks flashing dark purple and pink. “You might be nobility, but in Roohl’s eyes, you’re nothing, just like the Eok.”
Zaxis’s pupils shrank until his eyes were entirely pure amethyst anger, but still he didn’t move, his face as polished as before. Khal considered the Arvak’s words as Zaxis stood straighter. The Avonie could well be nobility indeed, but it made little sense. Avonies were a chokingly conservative society, based on bloodlines and birthright rather than individual merits.
That one born into the elite class chose to run around with an Eok on a mission beyond the Ring was more than surprising. It was an anomaly.
Once again, Khal was reminded how little he knew about his only ally in the mission. And how much his life depended on it. More importantly, how much Hazel’s life depended on it.
Why more importantly? She might very well be the traitor who sold me out.
; Khal raged against his own instinct, against the protective streak in his mind every time the human female was involved.
I really need to get rid of her, and fast.
“If you know I’m nobility, then you know I’m speaking the truth.” Zaxis’s voice was haughty, his brows lifted high in a typical Avonie display of superiority. “What else would a Duke’s son be doing aboard such a miserable little ship?”
The Arvak female locked eyes with Zaxis for a long time, then she shook her head. Her skin shimmered in tones of pink and purple, but her face remained closed off.
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Celaith looked away from Zaxis and to Khal. “Roohl wants Knut, and believe me, you don’t want to stand between Roohl and what he wants.”
There was something ominous in the female’s voice. Something that spoke volumes about who the captain of the Mother really was—a monster, one who was every bit as bad as the one Khal was hunting, except for one thing. Captain Roohl was a bounty hunter; he wasn’t trying to overturn Prime Councilor Aav and push the entire Ring into a civil war that would cost billions of lives.
Not my problem, Khal decided. “Why are you telling us this?”
“Because I can help you,” Celaith spoke low, her voice hurried and her eyes darting to the door. “I can get you away from Roohl.”
“And why would we trust you? You work for Roohl.” That wasn’t really the question, was it? No, the real question was much more obvious. “Why would you help us?”
Her dark pink eyes locked with his, then darted to the door and back.
“I want out,” the Arvak female whispered, her eyes suddenly haunted and full of fear. “I can’t do it on my own. He won’t let me leave. He won’t let any of us leave.”
Then the sound of heavy footsteps resonated from beyond the door and Celaith’s face lost its desperate, almost fearful expression. Her skin took on a serene, pale purple tone and she leaned back heavily on her heels, cocking her head to the side as an arrogant smirk lifted her lips.
