His father clapped him on the back. "You're doing fine, my boy. Just as I knew you would."
Yeah... He hadn't pissed on the rug yet.
But another glass of liquor and he might.
Wishing he were anywhere else, Caillen made himself pay more attention to what was being done even though he felt like a flaming overdressed moron in a tacky suit.
Desideria stood to the far back of her mother's Guard. She had yet to earn a forward spot, but that was okay. She would do so in the next few weeks. Of that she had no doubt. Especially since the other members kept treating her like she was somehow lesser because she was related to their queen. They assumed her appointment came from nepotism.
As if her mother had ever possessed an ounce of that. Go ahead and sneer at me. All they did was fuel her anger and make her that much more determined to challenge them once this ended. The only thing that had kept her from issuing a challenge the last two weeks had been her inexperience with social functions. Because she'd been considered a child until two weeks ago, she'd never attended anything like this and she preferred to stand back and get her bearings before she took the lead.
But before the year was out, she would advance to Head Guard and they would all learn that it was respect for her abilities and skills that had landed her where she was and not her blood relationship to their queen. Deside>
"Look at them," her mother said in their native language through a fake smile to Pleba--one of her oldest Guard members. "Preening peacocks, all of them and not a cock among them."
Desideria arched a brow at her mother's insult. Unfortunately, it was true. Even her mother's pampered consorts who were extremely womanly by Qillaq standards were far more masculine than anything Desideria had seen since leaving home. While she would have never considered her father effeminate, she now understood why her friends and family were so harsh toward offworlders like him.
They just didn't measure up. It was really scary. Not that she was interested in finding a lover--she'd have to spend a year as an adult before she'd be allowed to even consider one and then only if she earned the right in combat.
Definitely not something that appealed to her at the moment. She had a lot more things on her mind than anything to do with the male species.
Sex could wait. Men were okay, but nothing...
Her thoughts scattered as she rounded a corner and actually stumbled.
Oh. My. God.
Breathless, all she could do was stare at the last thing she'd expected to find on board this ship.
A full blown masculine god...
He was without a doubt the finest-looking man she'd ever seen and she wasn't the only one to think so. Every woman in the room was throwing covert lust-filled glances at him as he stood oblivious to the gapes. Several groups of women stood apart, making lewd comments about what they'd love to do with and to him.
But it wasn't his looks alone that caught her attention. It was the force of his presence. Even though he was covered by so many heavy robes they obscured whatever shape his body was in, he stood with his weight on one leg, head low, eyes intense...
A soldier's stance.
More than that was the stony look on his handsome face as his gaze swept the crowd. Sharp. Alert.
Predator. It was obvious he was assessing everyone in the room as a potential threat. An aura of lethal killer clung to him, warning all that he would only strike once and it would be fatal when he did.
A chill went down her spine as her heartbeat sped up with a fierce adrenaline rush.
He was absolutely gorgeous. Short dark hair framed a sculpted face that was so delicious it was hard to look at him. It sent a foreign tremor through her.
And when his dark eyes met hers, she felt a shiver of appreciation that caused goose bumps to raise the length of her body.
Oh yeah... For that, she'd be willing to fight and then some.
"Caillen! Relax your face. You're scaring the nives."
Caillen blinked as Darling's voice in his ear startled him. His friend was right. He had that deep, intense scowl that he wore like armor around the undesirable crowds that haunted his usual gathering places. It was his basic default whenever he left home or felt uncomfortable with his surroundings. Look tough and no one messed with you.
Look homicidal and they avoided you entirely.
Which wasn't a good thing around the geriatric crew who ran with his father. His luck he'd give one of them a coronary and get sued for it.
"Now you look like you're on massive antidepressants."
Caillen sighed. He couldn't win for losing. At least that was what he thought until he felt that familiar tingle warning him someone was watching him.
A quick sweep honed in on...
Oh yeah. Now that'll brighten your day. She was exquisite. Dressed in a tight, and he meant t-i-g-h-t, burgundy leather Armstitch suit that was trimmed with some kind of military designation, her lush curves made his mouth water. Her dark hair was scraped back from her exotic face and coiled into a stern bun at the nape of her neck. It was hard for a woman to look good in a hairstyle so severe, but she wore it well and that made him wonder how much better she'd look naked, with that hair falling loose around her shoulders.
Her skin was a deep tawny color and so smooth it made him ache for a taste of it. But it was her lips that called out to him. A perfect bow, they begged to be swollen from his kisses. Yeah, he could just imagine the sensation of her nails on his flesh, digging in deep, her head thrown back as he--
Darling's voice in his ear was sharp with his reprimand. "Put it in your pants, Cai. She's off limits."
Like hell.
"Seriously, Caillen," Maris inserted. "Down, boy. She's Qillaq."
He grimaced in distaste. Ah damn. That wasn't right. Qills were the worst sort of man-hating, ass-kicking I-have-a-chip-on-my-shoulder women ever bred. From what he'd heard, they'd been normal until about two hundred years ago when a war had depleted a large portion of their population and virtually all of their men. The women who survived had basically bombed their enemies into oblivion and then taken enough of the enemy men as slaves to repopulate their planet. The next generation had purposefully bred men and women so fierce that they'd never again be defeated by another army. In fact, martial arts and law were the backbone of every part of their civilization.
They'd also pulled into themselves and rarely ventured into other planets' politics. While they did have some men in government, it was rare. Their males were reserved to be soldiers and kept breeders.
Yeah well, I wouldn't mind being kept by that for a night or two.
Yet he knew better. As delectable as she was, he hated women who felt the need to order him around. Too many years of living with three oer sisters who vacillated from being his mom to his wardens had left him with a bad taste in his mouth where those kind of women were concerned. He wasn't threatened by strong women. He preferred them. But he didn't want them trying to run his life or tie his shoes either. As long as they kept their determination aimed at others, he was fine. When they decided he needed help cutting his food...
He wanted blood.
Damn shame. 'Cause that woman there was a fine piece of ass he wouldn't mind spending a few hours with.
But he wasn't dumb enough to chase after something he knew would only make him crazy. He'd also traveled that road one time too many. So instead, he offered a smile to the elderly cougar who was eyeing him like the last steak in her kennel.
Help me...
Desideria felt a shadow fall over her. Blinking, she focused on her mother's angry stare.
"Are we waiting on you now? Did I miss the memo designating you as queen?"
Heat stung her face as she realized that she'd stopped completely to stare at the handsome man in the corner. I can't believe I'm so stupid.
Yet he was compelling and irresistible. As was evidenced by the senator running her hand down his chest while he tried to talk to her.
"Forgive me, My Queen. I though
t I saw something."
"You appeared to be daydreaming to me, Desideria. Did I make a mistake by promoting you?"
Those words drove all the desire right out of her and hit her like a blast of ice water. "No, ma'am."
Her mother's glower intensified. "Then you'd best pay attention or you'll find yourself headed home on the next shuttle."
In shame. That would make her sisters and aunt deliriously happy.
Desideria wanted to crawl into a hole as she saw the snide smirks from the other Guard members. To them this just confirmed that she didn't belong here.
And for what? A nameless man? Yes he was sexy and hot, but he wasn't worth her career or her reputation. No man was.
She wanted to die of embarrassment. No matter what, she couldn't let herself be distracted again. She couldn't afford to. Falling in behind her mother, she followed them out of the room, determined not to pay any more attention to anyone, male or female.
Not even if they were on fire and running around calling themselves the devil.
Yet she couldn't resist a quick glance back before she left. At the same time she looked at him, he looked at her and their gazes locked tight.
One corner of his mouth quirked up into the most alluring and yet strangely taunting smile she'd ever seen. It was like he had a secret and he was inviting her to hear it. And damned if she didn't want to go over to him and ask what it was.
I've lost my mind.
If she didn't get her head back where it belonged, she was going to lose her job and what little bit of respect she'd finally managed to carve out of her mother's hard heart.
Nothing was worth that. Nothing.
Breaking that temporary connection with him, she left the room.
Caillen felt a flutter of disappointment that the unknown Qill was gone. He had no idea why. She was not his type. Not by a long shot.
Yeah but at least she wouldn't be boring. Which the pampered women around him were. Yes, they were intelligent and beautiful. But they had no idea what the real world was like, and he found that not only abhorrent and irresponsible for the people who made the laws that governed everyone, he found it naive. They mistook leisurely travel and overpriced education for worldly experience. In his existence, worldliness meant being able to scrape together a handful of beans to make ten meals that fed four people. Being able to repair your home and transportation with minimal parts at a minimum cost.
These people thought they knew what troubles were and yet they were as clueless as a three-year-old babe crying over a petty broken toy because to them that was the end of the world. True reality had never once touched them. Not really. Their money isolated them behind a protective wall that kept everything ugly on the outside.
Not having Mummy's and Daddy's love or getting into the right school or having the highest level of a job wasn't a tragedy. He considered it a damn shame their selfish parents couldn't make room in their overindulged hearts for their kids, but it wasn't the catastrophe they made it out to be. Tragedy was watching a loved one die because you couldn't afford one more day of a hospital stay after you'd already gone broke and homeless trying to pay for their treatment, or knowing people who'd sold their bodies just for their biweekly meals. It was having to bury your parents before you were ten and then having to make rent. Having to sell blood to pay for your sister's medicine to treat an incurable illness that would kill her if you didn't. It was going without food for days just so that same sister could have a necessary trip to the doctor that was weeks overdue and then hoping you could talk the doctor into taking a partial payment and not throw your ass out on the street in front of a waiting room full of people.
Those were real horrors. Not being able to buy the painting you "loved" because someone beat you to it wasn't. But to the people around him, the latter was a tragedy of epic proportions.
I don't belong here.
Honestly, he didn't want to.
Feeling sick to his stomach, he cleared his throat to get his father's attention.
His father looked at him expectantly and it hit him like a fist in his abdomen. Even though he'd only known his father a few months, he'd learned to love and respect him in spite of the worldhe lived in. The man cared about him and he didn't want to disappoint him.
But this...
He just needed a break. "I'm not feeling well--"
"Are you all right?" The concern in his father's eyes tightened his stomach even more.
"I will be. May I be excused?" He hated sounding like that. In his world, the exchange would have been completely different... "Hey, Dad, think I'm gonna puke. Gonna hit the head and snatch a nap, 'kay?"
But both his father and Boggi would faint dead if he said that out loud around this group.
His father waved a bodyguard over. "Take your time. Please let me know if you won't be able to make dinner so that I can inform the others."
"Yes, sir." Caillen turned and headed away from the crowd with that annoying guard behind him. Like he needed anyone's help protecting himself. Want to wipe my chin while you're at it?
Darling and Maris met up with him in the hallway.
"You okay?" Darling frowned. "You look like you're about to hurl."
At least Darling used real speak. "How are you so normal having come from this shit?"
Darling gave him a lopsided grin. "My hellbent friends. I owe all my sanity to you guys." Yeah, and what Darling failed to mention was the double life he lived. To everyone here he was royal. To their friends, he was a wanted renegade who protected the innocent victims chosen by the League. One who had a staggering price on his head.
Caillen glanced at Maris. "I know you're not normal."
Maris laughed. "I actually like the pomp and decorum. I find it refreshing to have civility in a universe where people routinely kill each other for profit."
"Yeah, but in case you haven't noticed, all this civility is fake."
Maris arched a haughty brow. "Fake is pretending to deliver flowers to someone and then shooting them in the face when they answer the door. It's smiling at someone while listening sympathetically to their problems and pretending to be their best friend and then doing everything behind their back to ruin them. Taking that gleaned confidential information and turning it against them. Exposing their personal secrets to others for no other reason than sheer meanness and cruelty. Or even worse, lying about them after they've done nothing but try to help you because you're jealous and know you can never accomplish what they have."
Maris indicated the people they'd left with a thumb over his shoulder. "Everyone knows the aristos are out for themselves and are ruthless. They don't pretend to care about you and you know not to tell them anything you don't want made public. We make no bones about it. Yet we still respect each other and all the political machinations that go on. It's honest treachery in my opinion. No one is ever surprised when one senator ns another. Or one emperor orders the death of his rival. Yet people are always stunned when their best friend talks about them behind their back or tries to ruin them for no real reason other than petty jealousy or just sheer meanness."
Now Caillen was actually scared as he realized that Maris was right. "You know in a fucked up way, that makes sense. Only you could put it all into perspective."
Maris shrugged. "It's all about perspective, my friend. That and the ability to duck fast when life throws excrement at you."
Caillen laughed at his unexpected comeback as he entered his room and his guard remained in the hallway. It was extremely out of character for Maris to talk like that. "I think we've finally corrupted him, Darling."
Before Maris could respond, Darling cut him off. "You want us to stay or do you need some downtime?"
"I need some time."
Darling gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "It will get easier. I swear."
Caillen didn't believe it for a minute. But he appreciated the kindness. Then again if anyone knew about leading a double life, Darling was it. "Thanks."
&nbs
p; He waited until they were gone before he jerked the robes off and let them fall into a heap at his feet. He had a childish urge to kick them. Saddest part? Those damn things cost as much as his ship and would have fed him and his sisters for about six years back in the day.
Raking his hands through his hair, he headed for his closet where he had his backpack stashed. Black and worn, it'd been his security blanket for years. A gadget for every occasion. This was his magic sack that had seen him through many a hairy ordeal.
He smiled as he opened it and rifled through the stuff that belonged to his past. Weapons, dehydrated food, garb...
And finally...
"There you are." He pulled his old link out and cradled it in his palm. This was what he needed...
Exchanging it with the one in his ear, he called his sister. He was still mad at Shahara and the others for never telling him he was adopted, but he understood.
To them he was family. It didn't matter how it'd happened. The moment their father had shown up with him in his arms, the three of them had welcomed him into their hearts and never looked back.
"Cai?" Shahara had a deep, husky voice for a woman, which had been great as a kid 'cause she hadn't been able to scream at him in shrill tones--unlike Kasen and Tess. "Is that you, pook? I've missed you so much! Why haven't you called and updated me on what's going on in your new life?"
He smiled at an endearment only his oldest sister could get away with. "Hey. I've been busy as hell with all the... stuff my dad has been strangling me with. So what's up with you?"
"Nothing.iv heig A clipped response that quickly led to her voice dropping two octaves. "Tell me what's wrong."
He licked his dry lips as his gut knotted even more over the sound of her sweet voice in his ear. Gods, how he'd missed her. "Who says anything's wrong?"
"Honey, I know you. I know that tone. You're sad and hurting. What's going on, baby? You need me to come and kill someone for you?"
He smiled at his sister's not-so-empty threat. As a former bounty hunter, she'd probably killed more people than he had. "I don't need you to fight my battles. I just wanted to hear a friendly voice."
It sounded like she was opening something up on her end. "You know we're always here for you."
"Same." It was so wonderful to know that even though she was on the other side of the universe, she would fight to the bitter death for him. He could see a perfect image of what she must look like in his mind. Her long red hair and gold eyes that were always filled with motherly love whenever she looked at him. She most likely would have one side of her hair pulled back from her ear while she talked to him and she'd keep one hand up near her link. No reason for it, just a strange quirk she had. And she was probably wearing a flowing floral dress that would make her appear soft and gentle. A total contradiction for a woman who could take down the nastiest scum the universe had ever spat out of hell.
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