by Susan Hayes
She wrapped her arms around her mate’s waist and nuzzled his chest. “It wasn’t me. It was the tarugan. We’ve found his weakness.”
“You believe what you like. I know it was you.”
His praise was like being bathed in sunlight, warm and uplifting. She allowed herself a moment to bask in it.
She was still wrapped around Damos when the kitchen door opened and her staff appeared. All three of them looked concerned and uneasy.
“What did he really want?” Antas asked. He had an arm around Saral’s shoulders and she was leaning into his side, arms akimbo as if she was chilled.
Anya just raised a brow. “Don’t try to pretend you weren’t listening.”
Saral laughed softly. “I told you she’d know.”
N’tev frowned at her. “You need to sit down, mahaya.”
Anya pushed out of Damos’ arms and took a good look at Saral. Her golden color was washed out and her expression was pinched. “Yes. Sit. Are you okay?” Worry spiked and then morphed into fear. Was Saral sick? Did she have what the others did? Yardan hadn’t said much about symptoms. She wasn’t even sure he knew the words for them, given that none of them had ever had so much as a sniffle.
Saral waved dismissively. “I’m fine. I just tried to do too much today, that’s all. I haven’t slept well the last few nights.” She shot her mahoyen an amused glance. “But that was their fault. It’s just a headache and a bit of a backache. I’ll be fine by morning.”
“If you need rest, why are you here? Go home. All three of you. Take care of each other and I don’t want to see any of you here until tomorrow. If you need anything, just let me know.”
N’tev and Antas both gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you,” Antas said.
“I’m fine! You’re the one who should be going home to be with your mahoyen!” Saral protested, but she was already being led away by her mates.
“The food. I need to…” she tried again.
“I’ll handle it. You’re on enforced leave for today. Go. And if you feel any worse, you call the healers,” Anya told her.
“We’ll take care of her,” N’tev said.
“I’m not sick. It’s only a headache,” Saral grumbled.
“I’ve run a tavern before, you know. I think I can manage it for one night.” She made shooing motions until Saral gave up and went with her mates.
Once they were gone, she turned to Damos. “I think our date is off. I could close down for tonight, but I’m worried people want to gather and talk. I’d like to stay open.”
“Of course you’ll stay open. With our help. Our evening isn’t canceled. It will just start later.” Damos folded his arms over his chest in that annoying way that meant he’d already made up his mind and was telling her how it was going to be. Males.
She took a step backward so it was easier to meet his gaze without craning her neck. “You don’t know a thing about running a busy tavern. Not to mention that you and Tra’var have your own work to do. I’ll manage. I always do.”
“We have no urgent projects at the moment. We’ll help. While we don’t know much about mixing drinks, and I can assure you that you don’t want Tra’var anywhere near the food preparation, we know how to clean dishes and follow instructions. Let us help.”
“I can handle this. I’ve got the droids, and if things get crazy, I can call Maggie and see if she can work tonight.”
Damos didn’t move, but his stance shifted and she got the impression he was now firmly rooted to his spot on the floor. “I am not leaving. You need help, and if the afternoon is quiet, there will be time for you to show me what you need done. If not, you can call Maggie tonight. I want to be here for you. Why won’t you let me?”
She wanted to bristle and push back because that’s what she always did. Instead, she admitted the truth. “Because if I start letting people help me, I’ll get used to it. Then when they take off, I’m disappointed. It’s easier not to rely on anyone else.”
“You rely on your staff,” he pointed out softly.
“I pay them.”
“They’re your friends.”
That was true. “They are. But I…”
“I know. You’ve had time to get to know them. To trust them. Believe me. I understand. But if you don’t let us in, how are you going to get to know us? I’m an expert at keeping everyone at a distance. I’m probably better at it than you are.” He held out his hand to her. “So are you going to join me out here on this ledge?”
There was only one answer to that question, and her heart shouted it so loudly it drowned out her doubts. “Yes.” She took his hand and held on to it tightly. “Now what?”
“First, you should probably show me the kitchen. Then I need to talk to Tra’var and tell him what’s going on.”
“You’re really willing to wash dishes?”
He tugged her into his arms and kissed her, his lips soft and warm against hers. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust. I know I’m not what you expected, Anya. But I want to find a way to be what you need.”
She melted into his kiss. She didn’t have the words to tell him what it meant, and she was afraid to say anything in case the universe took note and threw another wrench in her already-mangled plans. So she kissed him back. Her fingers tangled in his vest as she pulled herself up to meet his mouth, and her lips parted on a soft moan. It was as close as she dared to come to saying yes… for now.
10
Working with Anya revealed more truths about their mahaya than Tra’var believed possible. Her intelligence showed in the choices she made, and the more he learned about why things were done a certain way, the more he came to respect her business acumen. It also made him realize how little thought he and Damos put into that side of things. They could spend hours designing and creating their product, but once that was done, they tended to toss it into the display area and move on to the next project.
Anya seemed to be everywhere at once. She greeted guests when she could, supervised the kitchen area to make sure he and Damos didn’t screw up anything too badly, and generally managed to keep everything on the organized side of chaos. They plated the stew and other items not created by the food dispensers, gathered orders, and handed them off to the bots that scuttled in and out. Every few minutes Striker would appear with more used dishes. He and Maggie had both come in to help. Maggie was behind the bar and Striker was doing multiple jobs while keeping an eye on the customers to make sure everyone behaved.
Anya insisted that neither Tra’var nor Damos leave the kitchen. She didn’t want either of them being exposed to whatever was making some Vardarians sick. She’d insisted on sterilizing the kitchen before work started and had extra filtration running in all areas of the tavern. “Whatever this is, I don’t want anyone else catching it. Especially the two of you.”
Tra’var appreciated the sentiment, but he didn’t think it was likely he’d catch anything. Whatever was going on seemed to only be affecting a tiny fraction of the population. The healers would figure out the illness, and the specialists would work out why the nanotech wasn’t functioning correctly. This would all be over soon. The ancestors hadn’t brought the three of them together only to disrupt their lives so soon.
He was grateful for the chance to work alongside Anya, though. It let him see a side of her he might not have seen for months otherwise. She wasn’t anything like the female he’d imagined, but the more he got to know her, the more he saw why the ancestors had sent her to them. She wasn’t what he wanted. She was what they needed, and by all the winds that blew, she was magnificent.
As the evening passed, the orders for food slowed and the two of them switched to cleanup. Anya came by more often to help as the crowd dwindled.
By the time they were done and the doors were closed behind the last customer, Tra’var was actually fatigued, a feeling he rarely experienced because of his nanotech.
Anya reappeared at the kitchen door, looking as bright and fresh as if s
he hadn’t been working nearly nonstop for hours. “How do you do that?” Tra’var asked her as he dropped the cleaning rag he’d been using into the laundry chute at the back of the kitchen.
“Do what?” Anya asked.
“You have no nanotech or any other enhancements. So how is it you aren’t exhausted right now?” he asked.
“Practice. I’ve been doing this for years. Decades, actually.”
Damos shook his head. “And this is what it’s like for you every night?”
“Actually tonight was relatively quiet. It’s usually busier, and on nights I have entertainment it’s a capacity crowd.” She gave them both a wide smile. “Even as quiet as it was, it was far easier for me because you were both helping. It means a lot that you were here. Thank you so much.”
“You don’t have to thank us,” Tra’var said.
“But you are welcome,” Damos added.
“And I hope you can return the favor soon,” Tra’var added.
Anya laughed. “I don’t think I can be any help to you in your work. I have no idea how to forge anything.”
“That’s not what we need help with. Seeing how you run things here, I think we both realize we’re not doing enough to manage our business.”
“You mean like the fact your showroom is full of weaponry and the jewelry is all crammed in a dark corner?”
Damos scowled. “It’s not that dark.”
“I didn’t see any prices listed, either,” she continued.
“Our customers like to negotiate their own price or trade for goods and services.”
She gave them a look of dawning horror. “You don’t have set prices? Anywhere? How do you know what it cost to make something in time and materials if you don’t have a price? You have a room stuffed full of inventory. You cannot possibly have all that information memorized.”
“We have a good idea what everything is worth,” Tra’var said, but even as the words left his mouth, he had a sinking feeling she was right. They needed her even more than he thought.
“We can get started as soon as we’re done here. I just need to grab a shower and we can go to your place.
“No,” both of them said at the same time.
“You helped me. Now I can help you.”
“Not tonight,” Damos said.
“Tonight we have something else in mind,” Tra’var added. The sooner they got her home, the sooner they could claim their stubborn little female and give her the nanotech they carried. Even if there was a chance it wasn’t working as it should, it was still more protection than she had right now. It would safeguard her from whatever pathogens this planet had and give her the strength and endurance to keep up with her new mates as they entered the peak of the sharhal.
Damos retrieved her bag from the cupboard where Maggie had stashed it earlier. “You’re all packed, so now we go home. You can shower there.”
“With us,” Tra’var added.
“Who? How?” Anya looked at her bag and then at the closed kitchen door and answered her own question. “Maggie. My own staff are conspiring against me.”
“Only because you’re too stubborn for your own good,” Striker called out from the other room.
“I should have never hired a damned cyborg,” Anya muttered, but she smiled as she said it.
“Go already!” Maggie yelled. “We’ll lock up when we’re done.”
“Has everyone forgotten I’m in charge here?”
There was nothing but laughter from the other room. “Apparently I’m being tossed out of my own tavern.”
“Thank you,” Tra’var called out.
“We’re taking her home now.” Damos held out his free hand to her.
She took it and then reached for Tra’var. The moment their fingers touched was explosive. Energy and need flowed through him like he had hold of a live wire.
“Home. Now,” he said.
“Right now,” Damos agreed.
“Yes,” Anya agreed, her voice lower and husky with desire.
He met Damos’ gaze over the top of their mahaya’s head. His anrik nodded once and then smiled down at Anya.
It was time.
It was a good thing Tra’var had thought to order one of the community transports for the journey home. It wasn’t a long walk, but now the moment was here Damos could think of nothing else. Need flared over every nerve ending, triggering dark desires so primal he barely recognized them as his own.
It was also snowing, the air so full of flakes they could barely see the road. Fortunately the transport was self-piloting and navigated by sensors embedded in the road. None of them were fit to drive right now, so they rode in silence, all of them holding hands but no one trying anything more. They were all too close to their breaking point.
The moment they were out of the transport, he and Tra’var unfolded their wings. “Go with Tra’v. I’ll be right behind you.”
It took no time at all for them to reach the rooftop of their home. His wings were weak, but he could still manage to fly short distances even if he wasn’t as graceful as a pure-blooded Vardarian in flight.
They hurried inside, eager to be out of the wind and snow. The moment Tra’var reached the bottom of the stairs he had Anya in his arms, stripping her out of her cloak without bothering with his own.
Damos took a few seconds to shed the first layers of his clothing before joining them, eager to get his hands, and his mouth, on Anya.
His claws extended and for once he didn’t hide them. He used them to tear away her clothing, shredding the fabric while still holding on to enough control not to leave so much as a mark on her beautiful skin.
“What is it with you two and your need to ruin my clothes?” Anya asked as the tattered remains of her shirt fell to the floor.
“And you gave me grief for using a knife earlier. Now do you see my point about easy access?” Tra’var asked, his voice slightly muffled as he laid a path of kisses from Anya’s shoulder to her ear.
“Yes. Please tell me you ignored my previous ramblings and bought our mahaya every beautiful, easily unfastened thing in the shops.” He dropped to his knees in front of her, a position that placed her bare breasts within easy reach of his mouth.
“I did. If you want to thank me, just say you’ll do the dishes for the next week.”
“Done.” Damos managed to force the word out of his suddenly dry throat. Anya was beautiful. Her skin was kissed with a hint of gold and dusted with constellations of tiny spots.
“What are they? Markings?” he asked, brushing a finger over the tops of her breasts.
“We call them freckles,” Anya said.
“Pretty. I like them.” He let his hand trail lower until his thumb was brushing over one pert nipple. “You are stunning, mahaya. Do you taste as good as you look?”
He replaced his thumb with his lips, drawing the already tight peak into the heat of his mouth. Fire streaked through him as she moaned softly, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair and draw him closer.
“Shower. We should get cleaned up before…” her sentence ended with another moan as Tra’var turned her head and sealed her mouth with a kiss.
Damos gave her breast a light nip before moving to the other one. He didn’t want to stop. Not when the bed was only a few steps away.
Tra’var had been busy this afternoon. He’d brought the bedding from both their rooms into the main living space, converting it into a bedroom of sorts with a bed more than big enough for the three of them. It would be so easy to tumble her onto the mattress and let the sharhal take them…
No. Having a choice mattered too much to Anya to do that. If she wished to bathe first, that’s what they’d do, and they’d make sure she had the most memorable shower of her life.
He relayed his ideas to Tra’var through their link, and it only took a few seconds to make a plan.
“Shower is this way,” Tra’var gave their mate one last kiss and then led her down the hall. Damos took just long enough to shed the rest
of his clothes before joining them.
Tra’var must have directed the in-house AI to activate the shower when they arrived because the moment the door opened all three of them were enveloped in a warm cloud of fragrant steam.
“You had the shower running all this time?” Anya’s hair was still braided for work, and now she was coiling the long braid into a knot at the top of her head. Without the curtain of her hair, he could see the long lines of her body—a slender neck, the elegant curve of her back, and the plump roundness of her ass. She was perfect.
“This is not a ship, or a station, little flower. This place is rich in natural resources, including fresh water,” Damos reminded her.
“I know, but it’s hard to shake some habits, and conserving water is—was—a major concern in my life.”
Tra’var turned her toward him and smiled so broadly Damos could have counted his teeth. “It’s time to let go of your old life and embrace your new one. Fresh water. Open skies…”
Damos stepped in behind her, capturing her soft body between theirs. “Us.”
“Let’s start with that last one, please.”
Her soft words sent all the blood left in his brain surging straight to his cock. She wasn’t merely making a request. She was granting them permission.
They moved into the shower together, skin to skin every step of the way. The space was more than big enough for all three of them, a design feature he’d never truly appreciated until now. It was meant to give them room to extend their wings while bathing, but it also allowed all three of them to shower together.
Heated water sluiced over them, the mundane act of cleaning up made erotic because of Anya’s presence. Soft skin slick with water and flushed from the heat, she was achingly beautiful, perfect, and soon… she would be his.
He wanted to learn every line and curve of her body, every place that gave her pleasure. He turned her toward him and then drew a finger across her lips. One day he’d find a way to capture her beauty in metal. He didn’t know what form it would take yet, but he had to do it. Then, even if she retreated from him later, he’d still have a piece of her to worship.
