by Mina Carter
Seren’s people were not what Gracie expected.
She’d seen warriors on their ships, all disciplined and soldier-like despite the leather uniforms. That one she still had trouble with, even though Seren and others had explained the fabric was as hardy and weatherproof as the BDUs she and Jay were used to. It still seemed wrong somehow, and she still expected them to bust out the alien equivalent of motorcycles. Perhaps a few death-head tattoos and some chains.
But Seren’s people were… rougher. Despite her first impressions of the Vorr, it had quickly become apparent that these were not trained imperial soldiers. They were farmers and workers. None of them wore the leathers she was so used to seeing. Instead rougher cargo pants and work wear seemed to be the order of the day.
Like imperial warriors, though, they seemed to have the same aversion to shirts. Most of them were stripped bare to the waist, and she was sure the big guy Seren spoke to was sucking his breath in to show off his abs. He might as well have not bothered, not if he was trying to impress her anyway. She only had eyes for Seren.
She hid her smile and waited for him to be done. The conversation was about crop rotations or something. Born and bred in a city, it was far beyond her.
“Everything okay?” she asked as he returned to her side, walking beside him as they made their way through the small village clustered around the long hall like chicks around a mother hen. “He seemed a little… stressed?”
Seren nodded. “Doorn is a worrier. He has sentaris planted near the forest border. It’s a delicate crop and susceptible to waterlogging… I’ve told him before to plant on a better drained area, but he says the shade by the trees makes for a better crop. We’re nowhere near the rainy season but he’s panicking already.”
His lips compressed as he paused by a stile over a wall, holding his hand out to help her over and into the fields outside the village. The first was empty with packed dirt and the same kind of circle markings she’d seen in the training halls on Latharian ships.
“Oh? So what was he asking you to do?”
She took his hand, feeling like a grand lady as she climbed the stile. She was about to climb down the other side but he vaulted the stone wall in an easy motion and reached up, his hands around her waist to lift her down.
“Oh… Lathar can jump much higher than humans can,” she managed as he slid her down the front of his body, a hard arm around her waist holding her to him, just on her tiptoes. His eyes had gone dark again, his breathing short and his cock hard against her softer belly as his gaze latched on to her lips.
“Vorr,” he corrected. “We don’t call ourselves Lathar.”
“Tomatoes, tomahtoes,” she murmured with a smile, hardly able to think when he looked at her like that. It was humbling. She had always prided herself on sticking to the mission no matter what. Of not allowing anything to distract her. That, and the sacrifices she’d made, things she’d given up—like family and friends—had allowed her to become what she was.
A nomad.
Nomads were specters whispered about in the special operations community. Blacker than black, they were special agents who answered to no one. They were trained to operate alone, with only the equipment and resources they could gather in the field. They were said to be able infiltrate anything and anywhere for their mission, whether that be intelligence gathering or assassination. If a nomad wanted in, nothing would stop them. The name was whispered with fear and reverence, drawn in parallel to Earth legends of the grim reaper. Nomads were assumed to be a myth, something everyone hoped were a myth.
No one wanted to face a nomad. Ever.
Nomads should not get distracted. Should not allow a pretty face, male or female, to sway them from their course. They were agents of Earth, defenders of humanity and…
Fuckit, she had to kiss him.
Her thoughts scattered to the wind as she lifted on her tiptoes, sliding her arms around his neck and plastering herself against his hard, solid body as she raised her lips to his. He didn’t pass up on the invitation, his mouth crashing down over hers as he backed her up against the wall.
Lust and need hit her hard and fast, a low moan in the back of her throat. She needed this, needed him—
“Oh for draanth’s sake,” a deep growl broke through her sensual haze. “Would you two get a room?”
Seren lifted his head with a chuckle, keeping her corralled against the sun-warmed stone with his body as he looked over his shoulder. Three big farmers leaned on scythes, matching grins on their faces. Of the three, only one had fangs like Seren’s.
“You’re just jealous,” he shot at them with an easy smile and allowed her to come out from behind him. “Kelarris, let me introduce Vaix, Tecc and Iaanto.”
“Hi,” she said with a small wave.
All three were huge, like man mountains. Iaanto even looked like he had a bird’s nest in his bushy beard. He nodded to her, grunting in what may or may not have been a greeting while the other two smiled broadly.
“Pleasure to meet you, my lady.” Vaix nodded, while Tecc offered an easy smile, still leaning on his scythe.
At least she thought it was a scythe. With double blades and a twisted shaft, it could easily be a torture device or a weapon of war. The only thing was it would need the impressive build of the Vorr to wield it. Anyone else would struggle to swing the damn thing.
“These three reprobates are responsible for our xairath harvest,” Seren told her. “It’s a pain in the ass to cultivate, so it’s highly sought after. Iaanto managed to engineer a semi-stable variety.”
She looked at the man-mountain with a little more respect.
“Agri-genetics?” she asked, keeping the surprise out of her voice as best she could. The Lathar genetically engineered everything else, so why she was surprised they did it with their food, she didn’t know.
“Aye,” Iaanto nodded, his voice like a rockslide as he turned to look out over a field of delicate powder-blue flowers. “This year’s ’ave been the best yet. Good crop.”
“The oil is used in the medical fields and in cosmetics, perfumes,” Seren told her. “We’re the only planet to offer this variety and it accounts for eighty percent of our income. Keeps us from starving.”
She shot him a sideways glance as they moved on, waving goodbye to the three big Vorr as they headed back into their fields. “You’re Lathar. Surely the empire wouldn’t allow you to starve?”
Seren’s chuckle was dry and bitter as he guided her forward. “You’d think that. Wouldn’t you?”
10
“How did the conversation with the emperor go?”
Risyn grunted as he studied the displays in front of him, analyzing the code as it streamed past his eyes. It was the only acknowledgment he gave his second in command as Berrick dropped into the chair on the console next to him. He felt the slight surge in the datastream as the bigger cyber-warrior jacked in, his digital presence large and unmistakable.
From the moment they were implanted with their ke’lath, all B’Kaar maintained a link with the streams around them, whether it was a collective stream from their own unit, a larger stream from a taskforce, or a full-on stream from something like the base. Their own personal firewalls and shielding allowed them to relegate multiple streams to little more than background noise as they went about other tasks. But for things that required more processing power, like their work on the genetic matching database or bringing the base back to full operational function, they jacked in fully and allowed their bodies to run on autopilot as they went digital.
It went as you would expect, he answered on their private stream. His attention was divided between his analysis of the database code, monitoring a hunter program searching the maintenance subroutines and the environmental systems on the lower levels of the base for the rogue AI he just knew was hiding on the base somewhere, and observing section delta four alpha while they were training. Their section leader, Kraavi, had distinguished himself recently and he’d have to make the deci
sion soon whether to promote him or not. Given the recent issues with Soriat, he needed strong warriors around him in case of a leadership challenge. The emperor wanted to know if we had found his sister. I explained the AI is not his sister. It’s a pale copy of databytes and coded responses, nothing more.
He felt Berrick’s attention on him in the stream.
What?
Was that wise? Berrick had never been anything if not blunt. It was one reason why Risyn had promoted him over other, higher ranked warriors. His family was lower in the B’Kaar hierarchy with only one son suitable for ke’lath assignation. You know, pissing off the most powerful male in the empire?
Risyn shrugged, the movement physical. Even though they were both digital at the moment, it wouldn’t matter. Berrick would see the movement. He was like Risyn, able to interact both physically and digitally at the same time with ease. It was what made them so feared.
I’m right, though. Whatever that AI is, it is not Miisan K’Saan. Not anymore.
Silence met him on the stream. When he looked, Berrick apparently had all his attention on the coding for the new database, working on the analysis and matching loops. There were some glitches and some erroneous matches.
He knew why the male was so intent on it. One of the new matches was his own, with an Earth female. If the coding was wrong, the match would be incorrect at best and infertile at worst. Since the mate program was designed to solve the Lathar’s procreation problems, they needed the first matches to be viable and bear fruit.
Are you sure? Berrick asked suddenly, and Risyn turned to find the male’s dark-eyed gaze intent on him. He’d make a good interrogator. He was so draanthing stubborn.
The M’rln female… He shrugged. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was born biological.
Risyn shrugged. A one in a million chance… a fluke, nothing more.
“A work of genius, more like,” an irritated female voice announced, making them both jump and spin around.
A Latharian female stood behind them, resplendent in a full court gown with her hair piled high and decorated with jewels shaped like herris blossoms, the flower of the K’Saan imperial line.
“Keris is a fully realized, sentient intelligence with self-awareness who more than passes the neural tests,” she told them sharply. “As do many of my creations. Fortunately, none of them are stupid enough to reveal what they are to those who would do them harm.”
Risyn blinked and just about managed to stop his jaw dropping to the deck in surprise. Then his expression tightened.
“How did you manage to evade our hunter-seeker programs?” he demanded sharply, as he pulled himself from the streams. Or tried to anyway. Something stopped him pulling himself fully back into his body or activating his kasivar, on standby in the corner of the room.
She tsked at him, clicking her tongue against the back of her teeth. Or… more accurately, the hologram projection she was using approximated that sound and movement.
“How?” he demanded, not sure how she was holding him, of all people, prisoner.
She shook her head. “You think you can match me in the streams? I was coding before you were even born, Risyn B’Kaar. I invented some of the base algorithms your technology was based on. Don’t think you can test me on this battlefield. Now don’t make me break things. Just listen. We have a problem…”
The tour of the fields around the settlement had been informative, and Gracie fell silent on the walk back. She’d wanted more information on how the Lathar empire worked, but this had been an eye-opener. None of the Lathar here seemed to like the empire or even view the emperor as their leader. Every time she’d mentioned the empire, their expressions had shuttered and conversation had dried up.
“Thank you for showing me around.” She smiled up at Seren as they returned to the long hall. The main area was empty apart from one older alien, stirring a pot over the fire. He didn’t look up as Seren hustled her past.
“In a hurry much?” She chuckled as he used his bigger body to herd her into the khaaitan’s chambers at the back of the hall.
“You have no idea,” he groaned, hauling her into his arms as soon as they were through the door. His gaze latched on to her face, and he studied her like he was trying to memorize every detail of her.
“What?” she asked with a half-smile, a little self-conscious at his focused attention. “Do I have something on my nose?”
“No.”
He leaned down to nuzzle her nose with his and her heart about stopped. The move was so sweet and cute, she was instantly putty in his hands. If she wasn’t, his next words destroyed any defenses she might still have had against him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, truth ringing in his voice. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“Are we back to this?” she murmured. “I’m not yours yet, handsome.”
“Yet. You will be soon.”
His soft growl filled her with need and desire, her feminine instincts operating entirely separately from her brain. She should maintain a professional distance, gather intelligence and figure out how to get it back to Earth. But the instant he leaned down and his lips whispered over hers, she was lost.
With a soft cry, she pressed closer, parting her lips beneath his. The kiss went from gentle to hotter than a supernova within a heartbeat. His tongue slid against hers, the slick, erotic brush as he dominated the kiss sending her arousal skyrocketing. But the way he held her hit her harder than anything.
Arms wrapped around her, he held her like she was the most precious thing in the universe. Safe and protected… cherished. And all thoughts other than getting closer to him vanished as though they’d never been.
He tore his mouth from hers, nudged her chin up, and kissed along her jawline. Urgency in every movement, he shucked his jacket and let it drop to the floor. She sighed with pleasure as more of his body was revealed to her eager hands.
“Lady, yes,” he murmured, groaning against the side of her neck as she explored him. He was strong and hard all over, flexing and tensing wherever she touched.
“Touch me,” he begged, pulling back to look down at her, his eyes dark with heat. “I need to feel your hands on me.”
She nodded, pushing at his chest to put some distance between them. He growled again and planted his hands either side of her head on the frame and the wall, capturing her, holding her prisoner with his body.
She didn’t care. Her hands spread over the broad expanse of his chest. Stroking and caressing, she watched his expression as she found his nipples, the flat discs hardening to tight nubs under her ministrations. He sucked a breath in, watching her with a rapt gaze, and she realized she wasn’t the one held captive.
“You like that. Don’t you?” she murmured, getting bolder. She’d never been shy about what she wanted anyway, and even less so now she had him here under her spell.
Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. He shivered, his body tight, watching her as she moved down. She flicked her tongue over his nipple and he started, his growl low and raspy. Holding back her smile, she lifted her hands to grip his wrists and then turned them suddenly against the wall by the door.
“Keep them there,” she ordered as she pressed his hands up over his head.
Then she continued kissing down his chest, exploring him with her lips and tongue. He gasped a curse as she nipped at his nipple, flicking her tongue over the tiny hurt, but he held himself still. His thighs spread as she kicked his feet apart and stepped between them.
“Draanthing hell,” he hissed as she teased his abs with kisses, her fingertips venturing under the waistband of his leathers. She lifted up and claimed his lips with a hard kiss, his buckle undone in an instant. The leather was well worn, putting up little resistance as she flicked it free. He froze, his lips bare millimeters from hers as she popped the first button, then the second. They shared breath, tension so high between them she expected to see sparks any moment.
“G
racie…” he managed hoarsely, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“Hmmm?” she murmured as the last button popped open. He sprang free, filling her hand. Hot, hard and heavy. A deep groan escaped him as she stroked, root to tip, working him with slow, sensual movements.
“I think you like this as well,” she whispered, her hand around his cock. He was as big as she’d thought… no, bigger… heat building between her thighs just at the feel of him.
“Goddess yes!” he exclaimed, dropping his hands to pull her closer.
“A-a-ah!” she chided, stopping her movements. “Hands back where they were if you want more.”
Their eyes locked for a moment and she could feel the battle raging within him. The need to take control and take over was obvious in every line of his body as well as the set of his mouth. She arched her eyebrow and took her hand off him.
He bit his lip, lifting his hands and hooking them over the top part of the partition wall as he watched her pointedly. She smiled and wrapped her hand around him again.
“Good choice.”
She stroked again, twisting her wrist on the up stroke so she got all of him as she slowly kissed down the front of his body. No part of him escaped her attentions, each plane of hard muscle kissed and licked. By the time she reached his abs, she slid to her knees, still stroking as she worked her way down to his cock.
Her warm breath washed over his rock-hard cock and he flinched, looking down at her with wonder and surprise.
“Grace… I’ve never… trall,” he managed, swallowing hard.
She smiled. “You never had a blow job? Please tell me you’re not a virgin?”
“Goddess no,” he denied instantly. “I’ve had intercourse many times. Just…” he closed his eyes as his cock jerked in her hand, his voice hoarse.
“It’s always been at a pleasure house. Not many sex workers will do that without extra payment and most I wouldn’t want their teeth anywhere near… my… oh draanth.” He dropped his head back against the wall as she blew a cool breath over his cock.
