by Layla Nash
She abruptly twisted and brought her knee up, narrowly missing his sensitive and very excited parts, and turned away from his kiss. Faros growled in irritation but let her up. Violet staggered as she gained her feet; a pretty flush turned her cheeks pink, and her hair and eyes were wild as she stared at him. Faros held some hope that the night would still be memorable in an enjoyable way, so he gestured for her to get closer. “Come here.”
He could tell by the pattern of her breathing and her big dark eyes that she struggled to decide; he’d felt her willingness in the way she held his shoulders, how her tongue tentatively danced with his. Faros smiled, confident that he’d get his way, and waited for her to fall willingly into his arms.
Her lips thinned into a knife slash and she took a step, but it wasn’t to grip his hand and tear off her clothes. Her shoulders tightened and her arm moved and he braced for a bit of a slap. Instead, she punched him with all her strength. He started laughing, more from surprise than pain, and adjusted his jaw as he studied her. “What was that for?”
“What…you…how—” she said, flustered. Violet put her hands on those lovely hips and bristled like an angry haugmawt. “How dare you—I’m not about to kiss you and carry on. Don’t you dare try anything like that again.”
“You’re not about to?” Faros laughed and probed at a loose tooth. She was far stronger than he’d expected, and someone took the time to show her how to throw a good hook. “Why did you run your nails down my back? I heard you moan. Don’t deny it, Violet. Don’t hide from what you want.”
Her jaw dropped and her skin turned the bright kind of red that usually served as a warning. But Faros had never been great about listening to his instincts. He eased a step closer and caught her wrist, thinking she needed more encouragement, maybe a little ego-stroking, and murmured, “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re a very attractive female; we can have a great deal of fun together.”
She hauled off and swung at him with her free hand. He dodged in time to avoid her fist, though it made him grin. A wildcat, then, instead of the pinned-up lawyer. Even more intriguing than the hint of a bad girl in her conversation about drinking and vices. Faros chuckled and released her, folding his arms over his chest. “Deny it if you want. But we both know you were just a few seconds from tearing my clothes off.”
Violet spluttered and spat curses, then picked up a plate and hurled it at him. Faros arched an eyebrow. “You’re not denying it.”
She howled in rage and shrieked something that was probably a denial if he’d been able to hear at that pitch, threw one more thing at him, then stormed out of the dining room. Faros laughed until his sides ached and returned to his chair to finish dinner. She was much more than he’d expected. And he loved a challenge.
Faros joined Wyzak on the bridge after he strolled by the lawyer’s quarters and made sure she was safely inside. One of the ensigns had been assigned to keep an eye on her; he nodded to Faros when he saw the captain. And even if the ensign hadn’t been able to confirm Violet was behind the closed door, the sound of high-pitched cursing would have tipped him off.
Faros didn’t bother hiding his smile as he went on his way. He’d give her time to contemplate his offer, then get on with making the rest of the trip enjoyable for both of them. But in the meantime, he had to figure out what to do with the Tyboli and the contract issue. He hadn’t meant to tell Violet the truth about their little mission, but somehow it slipped out. She didn’t need to know the precise nature of the cargo the Tyboli exfiltrated for him.
Wyzak vacated the captain’s chair when Faros stepped onto the bridge; the second-in-command frowned as he studied the captain’s face. “What happened?”
“The girl took a swing at me,” Faros said, still amused and pleased with her spirit. He hated boredom above all else. He tapped his jaw and chuckled at the memory of her outraged, slightly flushed face as she tried to punch him. It had taken her long enough to decide to be pissed off that he knew it wasn’t a real reaction. A part of her might have been startled by his embrace, but she’d melted in his arms and kissed him back. Only later did she maybe regret that vulnerability. It just gave him more reason to tease that wild side out of her, even if it might distract him from the real mission. “She’s stronger than she looks.”
Wyzak snorted and checked the status of their shields and defensive systems. “Don’t underestimate the Earthers, boss. They’re a scrappy little species from a backwater galaxy, and they’ve managed to take over most of the Alliance governing bodies and the Fleet itself. If that one made it off that planet and out into the Fleet, she’s more dangerous than you’re giving her credit for.”
“Not dangerous,” Faros mused. “Not precisely. Either way, she’s my problem. What’s the latest on the Tyboli?”
“Kryken and his ship are where we expected.” Wyzak gestured at the viewing screens and a star map appeared to illustrate the distance between the Sraibur and their target. “We’ll be within hailing distance in a standard day.”
Faros tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Any anomalies or signs of pursuit? The girl managed to contact the Galaxos, so it’s possible that Vaant and his crew of do-gooders will head this way on a rescue mission.”
Wyzak sighed and shook his head. “Those warriors let their females run the ship. They won’t be able to catch up and we’ve changed our signature enough that they won’t find us even if they’re actively scanning. So it won’t matter how loudly Vaant’s mate complains about freeing the one you took.”
“I wouldn’t underestimate the Galaxos,” Faros said under his breath. Easy for his second-in-command to talk about expecting the worst from the lawyer but to end up ignoring the larger threat from a whole crew of their fellow Xaravians. Vaant and his team had become surprisingly inventive in keeping their beat-up ship flying, so it wouldn’t surprise Faros if their crazy engineer had somehow found a way to travel faster than any other propulsion system in existence. “Make sure the crew stays alert.”
Wyzak glanced around the empty bridge, as if verifying that none of the crew had slipped in while they talked, and lowered his voice as he studied Faros. “What are we going to do about Kryken? We don’t have the currency to get the cargo or clear the interest and lien on the ship.”
“We’ll get it.” Faros frowned as he studied the viewing screens and the vast expanse of space in front of the ship. Ungoverned space was always eerie with its lack of activity and traffic.
The other warrior folded his arms over his chest, his scales flaring with hints of yellow and green and orange. “How? When? Come on, man. We can’t run headlong into the Tyboli’s quadrant and his fleet if we don’t have a plan to either pay them off or disappear forever.”
Faros sighed and rubbed his jaw again. It didn’t even ache, and yet he couldn’t help himself from probing at it—like he wanted the connection to Violet. “There’s a well-traveled smugglers’ route not far from here. If we divert three degrees to starboard, we’ll run across slavers or some other criminals with full cargo holds and currency. We have an extra day or two until we absolutely have to meet Kryken. That’s plenty of time to deal with the issue of payment.”
“So we’re going to board and seize cargo off an unknown ship and just hope they’ve got enough value to pay off the Tyboli?”
Faros shot him a dark look. He’d had enough of being questioned, and his long-suffering second-in-command should have recognized the signs. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do, because we don’t have any other options. Unless the rebels or the Galaxos returned the massive bounty we earned to you? No? Then it looks like we don’t have a choice but to return to our piratical roots.”
Wyzak shook his head. “I’ll start scanning for targets.”
Faros shoved to his feet and headed for the door. “Fine. I’ll be in the training hall, then my quarters. Ring me if there are any likely ships in the vicinity.”
He left before he grew more agitated, since Wyzak didn’t really deserve
his irritation. The second-in-command was just doing his job. Faros’s ire was directed at the rebellion and the Galaxos crew, for preventing him from collecting a hell of a payday that would have covered his son’s medical expenses as well as the payment to the Tyboli. Instead, the Galaxos and its Earthers had thwarted his best efforts and dumped him in a rebel jail for far too long. Faros had no choice but to hold up another ship in ungoverned space and hope that the hapless fools had enough currency to resolve his debt.
He wasn’t going to lose his ship. It wasn’t even an option. He growled with irritation and shoved through the door to the training hall so he could throw heavy weights around and vent some of his frustration before he tried to rest. It would have been far more pleasant to work off some of his excess energy with Violet. Faros stripped off his robe and stretched his shoulders. The female was a distraction, that was true enough, but it wasn’t going to be a problem since she wouldn’t be around long-term. Just a few days until he’d gotten things sorted out with the Tyboli, then he could figure out where to drop her that wouldn’t put her in danger or end up with him back in a rebel jail.
Faros frowned as he hefted a weight and began his workout. He hadn’t had a plan when he took her from the jail, so he didn’t have any good ideas for how to deal with her after the immediate problem was resolved. He pushed away the thought. That would have to wait for another day. A solution always came to him eventually. He thought better under pressure anyway.
Chapter 10
Violet
Violet returned to pacing inside her quarters, unable to sit still despite the pleasant fog rolling through her thoughts from the liquor. A surprising agitation kept her upright and moving, fidgeting with her uniform, and increased her muttering under her breath about asshole Xaravians. He’d kissed her very thoroughly, and for an insane moment, Violet had been tempted. Very tempted.
Not that he could ever know that.
She shook her head at herself, threw her arms in the air, and growled in sheer frustration. What the hell happened to her? She used to be able to stand her ground and be very up-front about what she wanted. If she wanted to fuck the annoying warrior, she damn well should have.
Except she knew that he had the upper hand in the back-and-forth, and not just because he’d kidnapped her. Violet tried a few push-ups to work off the excess energy. She wanted to be the one who walked away when she wanted to, and no part of her believed that Faros wasn’t exactly the same. He didn’t do anything unless it benefited him, and he decided when that benefit changed. She damn well wouldn’t be set aside like some... one-night stand. A convenience.
Not that she wanted any kind of a relationship with him or any other male.
She switched to sit-ups when the push-ups didn’t do the trick. She’d been adrift since leaving the Argo and ending up a prisoner—the first time—of a crew of Xaravian barbarians. She didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life without the structure of the Fleet. Violet stared at the smooth, spotless ceiling of the room. Maybe if Faros marooned her on some wild planet, she could come up with a plan and make her way. It would be just as likely as her finding her way if he returned her to the Galaxos and all her friends.
Everyone else seemed to have settled down and discovered the way they could contribute to the rebellion or a family or something that meant something to them, and yet... Violet still felt adrift and aimless.
Which she hated.
She shoved to her feet and went back to pacing. It would all be a moot point, of course, if Faros couldn’t pay the debt and somehow the Tyboli took the ship as forfeit. Violet would be sold off as chattel, and she’d kill whoever touched her first, and probably end up executed in some horrible manner.
Violet pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes as she stopped in the middle of the room. That was definitely not how she wanted the rest of her life to go. There didn’t seem to be anything to do to help the situation, not that she wanted to support criminal activity like the kind Faros and his crew engaged in. She’d never liked the hypothetical ethical scenarios they threw at her in law school, but now that she’d found herself in the middle of one—could she break the law if it meant saving herself from ending up in a slave trader’s ship?
She pushed the thought away and started to get ready for bed. She’d get some sleep and think things over in the morning. Maybe rest would help clear her mind and give her a spark of inspiration. Violet sighed and ignored the exhausted, tight-lipped reflection in the mirror. She didn’t recognize herself anymore. Maybe figuring out what to do about Faros and his pirate crew would clue her in to how she was supposed to move on from everything else that had gone wrong.
Violet prepared to lie awake and stew over the turn of events, since it had been less than a day since she’d been on the pirate ship, but as soon as her head touched the pillow, sleep whirled up and carried her away.
Chapter 11
Violet
It didn’t last long. The ship jolted and an alarm echoed far away, and Violet tumbled out of her bunk with the force of the ship’s evasive maneuvers. For a long moment, she had no idea where she was and fought both disorientation and sleep as she tried to get back to her feet. Emergency lights glowed red in the room and a low beeping intruded in a pattern meant to indicate an attack.
An attack? Violet scrambled up and fumbled in the dim light for a uniform or something more substantial than underwear and the tank top she’d worn under her mostly-clean uniform. Heavy boots ran by in the corridor and Violet moved faster to get to the door, though she whacked her knee on the edge of her bunk.
She smashed her fist on the control panel on the wall, too disoriented and tired for finesse, and managed to turn the lights on but the door didn’t budge. She threw her shoulder into it as panic bubbled up in her chest. What if Faros lied about having time to pay the debt and the Slasu / Tyboli attacked already?
Violet pounded on the door with her fists, furious with Faros and the pirates and the Alliance and everyone else in the universe. They’d locked her in with no consideration for her safety. She took a deep breath and raked her hair back from her face. There wasn’t time to panic. She needed to think. The panel blinked with warning lights from her earlier abuse, and it took far too long for it to reset to normal.
There had to be an emergency release code, regardless of what overrides the pirates put on the quarters. Whoever designed the Sraibur was too intelligent and too good an engineer to leave something like that to chance. She just had to find it. More boots moved through the corridor, moving fast, and loud voices called back and forth in the guttural Xarav language she’d never really learned.
Violet took a chance and beat on the door, calling out to whoever might release her, and braced for a surprise as someone paused outside the door. She held her breath. She’d assumed the Xaravians were still in control of the ship. What if the Tyboli had taken over?
She backed away from the door and looked around for a weapon, just in case.
A barely-audible conversation took place beyond the door. Violet hit the lights and got ready for a fight, hoping her eyes adjusted faster than whoever stood in the corridor. Something beeped and buzzed, then the boots moved on. She held her breath and waited, staring at the door as if it would magically open, then crept closer. Nothing moved outside. She ground her teeth against a scream of pure frustration and staggered as the ship jolted again. It spun and tilted until she fell back against the bunk.
She dug through the cupboards and storage gaps under the floor for anything to use as a weapon or wedge for the door. She missed Rowan in a desperate surge—the engineer always knew how to blow something up or create a massive hole in something that wasn’t meant to have holes. The space under the floor panels revealed a few canisters made of heavy metals, so weighty it took her a moment to drag one out of the storage space.
Violet braced herself, said a quick request for help to Einstein and Galileo for good measure, and hurled the canister at the door. It dented the meta
l and she reconsidered the plan. The door might never slide open if it was too deformed, and there was no telling what was inside the canister. She picked the heavy cylinder up and slammed it against the control panel instead until sparks sizzled in the air. A whistling alarm sounded, then the locks disengaged and the somewhat damaged door cracked open and sagged out of alignment.
She put the canister down carefully and set her fingers in the small space between the door and the jamb, and started wiggling it open. It took far too long to get enough room to peer into the corridor. The alarms had quieted, only going off intermittently, and no one ran or yelled. Violet held her breath and heaved the door aside enough that she could slide through.
She stuck close to the wall and jogged through the half-lit corridors as she searched for the trouble. The loading bay was the most likely place for a breach, either executing it or being boarded, so that had to be... Violet slowed as she drew closer to the back of the ship and the vast empty space where cargo was loaded and unloaded. She’d assumed the Sraibur had been attacked by the Tyboli, but Faros and his crew were pirates. What if they’d attacked someone?
Violet paused to take a breath and reassess the situation. Maybe busting out of her relatively safe quarters and running headlong into whatever crimes were being committed hadn’t been the best idea. Griggs had been a terrible influence on her over the previous year. Normally Violet would never have considered something so brazen and utterly reckless.
But she steeled herself and strode on. She’d made her choice and she was going to stick by it. Knowledge was power, or at least that was what she’d always been told. She’d learned the hard way that sometimes, you really didn’t want to know more. Sometimes knowledge hurt more than ignorance.
