“I ought to change into proper clothes.” Not a lie. Changing, grabbing some important items, and clawing out the identity chip in my wrist were also on my agenda.
“My father is well enough for you to play dress up?” Swift circled me, tail flicking from side to side.
“I don’t appreciate everyone seeing me in my sleep clothes,” I said. The fabric on my tank top was thin.
“I’ve seen you in less,” Swift said. I gulped. He swatted my ass and laughed when I jumped. “Go appease your modesty but know that when you are mine, you will not hide away your beautiful figure. I want to see the envy in other men’s eyes.”
I sprinted down the hall.
In my room, I quickly changed into a simple Talmar day outfit: skirt, blouse, and long sleeveless vest. I pulled my hair back in a messy ponytail and splashed water on my face. In the cabinet, I kept another med kit. I spread the contents on my bed, then sat down gently on the mattress, the objects jostling.
This next part was not fun. Or easy. My identity chip, embedded in my right wrist, had my all credentials and credits but it could also track my movements. It had to go.
I tore open a packet of alcohol swabs and cleaned off my wrist. Next I applied a numbing agent with a hypospray. With my left hand I picked up the energy scalpel. The instrument hummed to life. The chip wasn’t far below the surface. My impromptu surgery didn’t have to be pretty but it had to be fast.
The energy scalpel cut into my pale skin, blood welling up scarlet and rich. My arm remained numb and lacked sensation. How odd. Chip removed, I used my free hand to apply a bandage. Sloppy but done.
I considered packing a bag. My eyes scanned the room, unsure what to bring. I didn’t have anything in the way of sentimental items. No family photos or cherished childhood toys. Clothing? Toiletries? No. If Swift or Gentle spotted me, I’d have to explain away the bag. Best to travel light.
Malik waited outside the door. He’d better have an idea of what to do next. My chip was out. There was no going back for me. He frowned at the bloody bandage on my wrist. Not my best work but I was a general practitioner, not a surgeon.
“I have a plan,” he said.
Relief flooded through me. I followed Malik’s instruction when he lead me to a skimmer and commanded me to climb into the back and hide under a smelly old blanket. I accepted without complaint the heavy equipment bags he added on top. I was patience. I was prudence. I trusted my brother.
Malik and I were both sold to Calmness as kids. I suspected Calmness got a big kick out of pairing two golden haired children together, one Terran and one Terran-Tal hybrid. He gave us our slave names, Meyet and Malik, which translate to “sugar and spice.” That sickened me more than anything. Of all Calmness’s atrocities, not giving us proper names was beyond insulting. Traditional Tal names were virtues and aspirations. We didn’t get real people names. We were objects; pretty little pets for our master to trot out when it amused him.
I wasn’t even sorry he was dead.
The skimmer stopped. Malik shifted the equipment and helped me out of the back. We were at the loading docks for the starport. He pointed to a crate barely big enough for a person. For me.
No freaking way.
“Are you sure?” I asked, giving the crate the stink eye. Sure, it was big enough for me to sit in but it wouldn’t be comfortable. I trusted Malik without question but he wasn’t the brightest star in the sky.
Malik brushed back the honey blonde hair from my forehead. I batted his hand away. “Heart sister,” he said, “I am paying a small fortune to a remarkably shady man to take this box without questioning the contents.”
Right. Paying a smuggler to get me off planet. “Will he know what’s inside?”
Malik shook his head. The golden tawny tufts of fur on his ears and head caught the sun. He swept me into a tight hug. “I will miss you, heart sister,” he said. “And I regret you were not my mate.”
“Be quiet,” I said, eye squeezed closed. Malik grew up in the same situation as me with Calmness, only he fought in cage matches. Malik punched them and I patched them up.
“What happened to the girl who sells books at the bazaar?”
For the last six months, Malik accompanied me to the bazaar. He claimed it was to protect me from assault but I realized it was only to make eyes at the pretty woman. He’d yet to actually speak to her, instead standing mute over my shoulder whenever I bought a book. I’ll admit I’ve purchased more books than I needed just to see Malik rendered as nervous as a kit.
Malik’s chest rumbled at the mention of the bookseller. Tal didn’t exactly purr but they certainly rumbled. The Tal were a graceful, feline-like people with wide eyes, pointed ears with tufts of fur, claws, and a tail. Of course, the Terran-Tal mixed specimens were spectacularly gorgeous, as Malik demonstrated. As a physician, I could rationally tell you that most carbon-based life in the explored galaxy evolved along the same lines. Most aliens were compatible with Terrans for breeding. What was hard to explain was why the interspecies children were so gorgeous. I was completely biased on the subject, however. I loved Malik like a brother. More than. He was my family.
I never gave much consideration to taking a mate. Or sex, for what it’s worth. Constant work limited my dating pool. All day, every day, I was surrounded by men who worked for Calmness’s syndicate, so basically criminals. Not exactly prime mate material. Or casual sex partner material. There was interest, sure, but Calmness made it clear that his personal physician was off limits. No one approached me, including Calmness’s own son, Swift, despite the desire in his eyes.
Swift’s last words to me echoed in my mind. He would claim me when his father died.
Nope. It was safer to avoid love and sex all together. Stars forbid my birth control failed and I became pregnant. My kit would be born into slavery as Calmness’s property. I could never do that to a child.
Not like my father.
“What’s to stop this shady man from selling me?” I asked Malik. I could not leave one master for another. If I wanted to remain a slave, I’d stay with Gentle and Swift. Gentle, large and hulking, was a monster. He was mindless violence made flesh. His temper was short and he never pulled his punches. Gentle genuinely terrified the masses but Swift was the one who truly frightened me. Cold and calculating, Swift pointed his brother at a problem and let blood settle the matter. He never forgot a transgression and his sharp eyes noticed everything.
Swift noticed me. Swift had always noticed me, his amber eyes following the curve of my hips and tailless bottom. Swift wanted to make me his mate. He said as much. Promised as much. Only Calmness’s mandate to leave me unmolested kept me out of his paws, thankfully. I had seen too many women with busted lips and bruises blossoming over their empty eyes after a night with him. Swift would notice the small pile of ash under my feet while I tended Calmness in his last moments. He would find the ash ground into the carpet. Which brought me back to the crate and Malik.
“This is not a slaver ship,” Malik said.
“And how do you know that? Maybe the captain had a change of heart.”
Malik shook his head. “I know.” Of course he did. Malik was not Calmness’s best fighter by his superior genetics alone. Malik approached every situation with a plan. He studied his opponents. He made preparations. He made contingencies.
“How long have you been planning this escape?”
“You ask too many questions, Meyet.”
“Come with me,” I begged. “They will know you helped me. You can’t stay here.” Swift and Gentle would torture Malik.
He shook his head. “No, sister. They will expect us to travel together. I will lead them away.”
“I don’t want to go without you.”
“We will meet at Galax One. Agreed?”
I didn’t like it. The universe was a big, dangerous place. I should have my brother with me. Meeting at the gigantic space station was a good plan, though. Clever. I nodded. He gave me another bone crushing sque
eze.
“It is time.”
I pulled away slowly, not looking him in the eyes. I couldn’t. Not without crying.
I climbed into the crate. Malik handed me supplies and sealed me in. I had a blanket, a pillow, some ration bars and water. In a leather satchel, I had a data card with unmarked credits. I carried my real identification chip but would never activate it again. I was no one now.
Muffled voices outside the crate. I heard men talking and recognized the easy purr of Malik. Someone thumped the top of the crate and then it moved. Jostled inside, I bit my lip to remain silent. Finally, the tiny, confined space stopped moving. More muffled voices moved outside as the unseen crew loaded cargo into the hold. Eventually it grew silent. Then it grew cold. I shivered and wrapped the blanket around myself. I guess this ship didn’t heat the cargo hold.
Security scanners were too sophisticated for me to go undetected on board a ship for long. Hopefully, after my inevitable discovery, the ship would be too far away from Talmar to return me to the port. Hopefully that would happen before I froze.
Now I simply had to wait.
Chapter Three
Ruush
I had a damn stowaway.
Jonee, the pilot, did not flinch when my hands slapped the consol. Her nerves were either steady as a rock or she was used to my temper. And I was steaming. System scans detected a life form in the cargo hold, glowing amber on the screen.
Fucking Talmar. I hated this planet. Sure, half my crew was Tal. I was equal opportunity that way. Business opportunities on Talmar were too sweet to totally ignore the planet, but there was always some fly in the ointment when I came planet side.
It had to be that nervous Tal with his crate that didn’t need to be on an official manifest. He was too quick to agree to my price and I wasn’t cheap.
Fucking Talmar. I didn’t deal with the flesh trade. I made that perfectly clear. Every time I was on that rainy, hot planet, some greedy bastard tried to transport slaves on my ship. The idea of that filth in my ship infuriated me. I know, I know. A smuggler with principles. It was the only one, I assure you. Fremm stopped dealing with slaves a thousand years ago. I wished the rest of the galaxy followed suit.
I stalked down the corridor, and headed to the cargo hold. We were in orbit now but not in the deep black. The temperature in the hold would drop to freezing, probably even below. I didn’t heat the space because I didn’t transport people. Any unlucky stowaway would be in trouble eventually, which was why we run the scans.
If that nervous Tal tricked me into smuggling a person, I’d drop the poor soul off at a safe, slaver unfriendly Interstellar Union port. Then I’d go back and work out my frustration on his face. I hate slavers.
If it is runaway, well they had my sympathy but they would work for their passage. I ran a business, not a charity. I had a crew to pay and a ship to maintain.
On paper, the Promontory and her crew were mercenaries. And we were. Sometimes. The crew was more than pleased to provide escort and security. Even more pleased to bash heads. Off the books, we dabbled as thieves, smugglers, bandits, pirates, and con artists. You named it, and I’d name a price. I wasn’t too proud to pass up good credit. But I wouldn’t tolerate a slaver. It was the one honorable trait from my mother’s people that I held to.
The augmented eyepiece I wore quickly highlighted the offending crate. I grabbed a crowbar. The wood groaned in protest as I pried the lid away.
Inside was a Terran woman. She jumped up. She wore a traditional Tal outfit: tight and short navy blouse, full white skirt, and a long white jacket with dark floral embroidery and a complex diamond pattern cut out of the thin fabric. Her honey blonde hair gleamed in the poor lighting. Her eyes, wide with fright, were the bright color of a spring leaf. Thicker than the average Tal female, she was built exactly the way I liked, with soft curves. She was ideal.
The scents of summer replaced the stale, canned air of the cargo hold. Fresh cut grass, salt, and searing heat surrounded me. I breathed deep, the heady fragrance stirring something inside me. Well, my cock stirred but that fucker had an opinion on everything. This was different. This woman called to something deeper in me.
“Don’t make me go back! I have credit,” she said, the words tumbling out.
My heart sang just looking at her. I rubbed my chest and frowned.
I would do anything for her.
Chapter Four
Meyet
I trembled like a scared kitten.
The Fremmian man, tall and slate blue with wild, unruly hair, gave my form a long look, focusing on my chest and hips. His eyes were the shade of a dark plum, with a strange silvery sheen. Augmented lenses? I fought the urge to protectively fold my arms over my chest, and I balled my hands into fists. His eyes lingered on the bloody bandage on my wrist. Not my best work. Plus, I didn’t exactly have time to be delicate when I hacked the ID chip out from under my skin.
“I need to get to Galax One,” I said.
The smuggler gave me a flat look.
“I can pay.”
“I’m sure you can, kitten,” the man said. “How rich is the master you’re running away from?”
My stomach clenched. He would to send me back. “My master is dead.”
He tilted his head to one side. “That’s why you had to dig out your chip?”
“I can still pay.”
“Relax,” he said. “We’re too far out to head back and I have no love for slavers. I do, however, expect you to earn passage.” White fang flashed against his slate colored skin. His voice rumbled and vibrated deeply to my core. I squeezed my thighs together, ignoring the sudden flare of desire. I understood immediately the type of payment he wanted. Not interested. Of all the things I had to do to keep Calmness Yvar from killing me, trading sex for survival was not one of them. A minor miracle for a woman in my position. I wasn’t about to start now.
“Credit not good enough for you?”
“I’m more interested in your skills,” he said.
No, no, no. I shivered, partly from the cold, but mostly from nerves. Clouds of my breath hung in the freezing air.
The smuggler tilted his head up and squinted at the ceiling. “How about we discuss terms where there’s life support? I’m built for the cold. You’re not even dressed for it.”
I moved to climb out of the box, but my stiff limbs didn’t cooperate. The man lifted me out of the crate like I weighed nothing. He held me to his chest, his warmth enveloping me. This was crazy. This smuggler might ask me to do unreasonable things for my passage. But at that moment, held against his warm, taunt form, I didn’t mind. I was safe.
Slowly he let my body slide down, rubbing all my curves against his broad chest, flat abs, thick thighs, and the growing hardness in his trousers. When he set me gently on the floor, I wanted to crawl back into his embrace.
“I don’t know your name,” I said.
“Ruush. What do I call you, kitten?”
“Meyet sama Yvar.” A slave name, but it was the only name I had. Ruush’s eyes widened but his facial expression was closely guarded. His face remained blank; no marks of recognition or surprise. Hmm. I had limited experience with Fremmians and most of my information came from films. Fremm culture placed much importance on honor, valor, and loyalty. I saw a miniseries about the same named Holy Swords. Fremmians were too honorable to bother with black markets and criminal types. I understood that the Fremmian bioluminescence gave away their emotions and inner thoughts, another good reason to stay away from the criminal element. Ruush’s level of control over his emotions must be extraordinary.
Yvar didn’t do business with Fremmians. Mainly because they, as a whole, were really terrible at criminal activity. Uneasy? Deceptive? The marks burned right on their faces. Terrible for a shady business. However, I did see plenty of Fremmian bodyguards and mercenaries. You didn’t have to closely guard your thoughts if your only job was to look fierce and throw punches.
It was too cold to figure out whe
ther he knew anything or had the single greatest Fremm poker face. “I need a heat blanket,” I said, shivering.
He grabbed the bag filled with my worldly possessions and led the way through the ship. The corridors of the ship were a glossy white with varying blue stripes on the floor and ceiling. Embedded into the stripes, lights flashed. It gave the effect of flying through the clouds. The design had been popular in the last century, so it was either an older ship, or Ruush liked retro style. The ship seemed to be in decent enough repair, though.
We arrived at the medical bay. “Why are we here? I’m fine,” I said.
Ruush patted the exam table, indicating that I should sit there. “You were in sub-freezing temperatures. You could have frostbite. Or you could have a virus that would make my crew ill.” And he can't make money with a sick crew. “So stop being stubborn and get on the table, kitten.”
“I would know if I had frostbite.” I didn’t. My fingers and toes were fine. But I climbed on the padded table anyway, arms folded over my chest.
Ruush planted a hand on either side of me and leaned in, nose almost touching mine. “Are you a doctor?”
“Actually, yes.”
He blinked. “Seriously?”
I pointed to equipment on the wall. “Get the heat blanket on me and get my core temperature up. It’s low but not dangerous. Use the med stat to scan me if you want to waste your time. You’ll find I’m healthy.”
“And that?” He pointed at my wrist.
I rubbed the bloody bandages. “I had to get my chip out fast. Knit gel will close the wound.”
Ruush followed my instructions and wrapped the heat blanket around me. Instantly, warmth surrounded me, but I continued to shiver. I was colder than I realized. The med stat confirmed my core temperature was low but not dangerously so. The blanket would bring my temperature up slowly over the course of an hour. Finally, with one hand, I cleaned the wound on my wrist and applied the knit gel.
Alien Rogue's Price: Alpha Alien Romance (Alpha Aliens of Fremm Book 4) Page 2
