by Roxie Ray
I undid his tunic and he shrugged it off, exposing his pale pecs and well-defined abs, his soft black wings. He was magnificent, like some fierce and flawless angel from a medieval painting. In that moment, I could picture him holding a flaming sword and guarding the entrance to Eden.
I wanted him to let his guard down. To give me the connection I'd desperately wanted after years of guarding my secret so closely. To let me into paradise, after a lifetime of loneliness and squalor.
I quickly slid my dress the rest of the way off, kicking it into a corner. I was naked before him now, no defenses left, ready to surrender fully.
He stared at every inch of me hungrily, then stood and undid his trousers, removing them. His cock was long and thick, the white skin faintly tinged with purple as it stiffened before my eyes. I took the cool shaft in my hands, rubbing it in the warmth of my palms, relishing the way it grew harder and harder. I felt his entire body shudder in anticipation.
More than that – touching him like this, I could feel the whispers of his thoughts, his desires, as though they were my own.
Maybe they were. Maybe we shared some strange bond.
Maybe all his talk of “fate” and “destiny” weren't so silly after all.
I want you. Now.
Had those words come from his mind, or mine? Did it matter? I had never felt wetter in my life. I needed him inside me.
I reclined on the bed, my eyes never leaving his as I opened my legs wide. He positioned himself between them, holding me tight. I could feel the caution hovering behind his grip – members of his race were naturally stronger than humans, and I could tell that he didn't want to hurt me.
Then I felt the tip of him push past the slick folds of my labia, followed by the rest.
I gasped.
God, he was big.
He filled every inch of my pussy, reaching back into places no one else had ever found, let alone stimulated. I cried out, calling Zark's name… once, twice, and then over and over with each new thrust. I could feel his cool breath on my ear as he nibbled at my lobe. He was murmuring in his native language, and even though I couldn't understand the words, the meaning behind them couldn't have been clearer.
I've never desired anyone the way I desire you.
Our chests were pressed together, his heartbeat thrumming next to mine. I hugged him tightly between my thighs, raking my fingernails up his back. He hissed with pleasure, biting my lower lip so hard I worried he might draw blood – but no, he was still restraining himself. I could hear the concern for my well-being in his thoughts. He was determined to protect me at all costs.
Strangely, out here in the middle of the galaxy, light years from my own planet, I'd never felt safer in my life than I did now in his arms.
He throbbed inside me, and I felt my passion building, coming to a head. From his quickening pace, I knew he was close, too. I took a deep breath and let it all out. My moan became a scream of joy, and the sensation inside me was like the blasters they'd fired at us on Cexiea amplified by a million, a billion, blazing brightly enough to leave me a scorched and smoldering wreck.
Zark wrapped a lock of my hair around his long fingers, pulling it hard. The pang sharpened the edges of my pleasure into glistening knives.
A split-second later, I felt his climax – a cold, sudden, refreshing gush that poured through me, like a bucket of ice water on a hot day.
We looked into each other's eyes for a long moment… then burst out laughing. What we'd just done was senseless. It was crazy. It was improbable to the point of utter absurdity.
It was perfect.
“Well, I'll admit, I certainly hoped for that beyond all reason,” Zark said, “but I didn't honestly expect it. Not so soon, at least!”
“Why? Do you think less of me now for putting out on the first date?” I batted my eyes coquettishly.
He opened his mouth to answer – but before he could, there was a blasting sound, and the ship rocked beneath us.
“Jesus! What was that?” I asked. “Did we hit an asteroid or something?”
“No, the ship's auto-navigation system is programmed to avoid those,” he said, rising quickly and pulling his clothes on. There was another sharp impact, hard enough to make him momentarily lose his balance. “Someone is firing on us.”
He ran for the door. I yanked the sheet from the bed, wrapping it around my body and following him.
When we got to the command deck, he flopped down into the captain's chair, quickly pushing a set of buttons. The view screen sprang to life – revealing a huge, dark, ugly hunk of metal spinning in space ahead of us.
It looked like a flying saucer.
No, scratch that: It looked like pieces from about four or five different flying saucers, all welded together to create some hideously mismatched Frankenstein machine.
“Raising shields,” Zark muttered, hitting more keys. “Hope they didn't manage to hit those systems already… or the weapons, for that matter.”
A vague haze of blue energy appeared briefly between us and the attacking ship, and Zark nodded, relieved. “Thank the Succubi. They only zapped one of our rear shield generators. Everything else looks intact.”
“What do they want?” I asked.
“I'm trying to hail them, but they're not responding.”
A crimson blast arced from the underside of the enemy ship, hammering the front energy shields. They flickered blue again for a second, but it looked like they were holding up for now.
Then again, what the fuck did I know about all this alien technology?
“Looks to me like they're responding,” I pointed out, my stomach lurching. “Who are they?”
“Their ship doesn't match any known configuration. It's a total hodgepodge. There are sections of Drekkir and Krote armor, plus souped-up Valkredian engines, modified Mana shields, Xehrulian weaponry… it looks like something that would roll out of one of the Sives' chop shops, except the Sives wouldn't be attacking us. Whoever they are, they're big and nasty, that's for sure.”
Another blast, and the ship shuddered.
“Well, are you going to fire back, or not?” I demanded.
“I was hoping I'd be able to avoid it, actually,” he snapped. “I didn't want to drain the weapons batteries if I didn't have to, since I'm not sure what kinds of threats we might be up against when we reach our destination. But it looks like they're not going to give me a choice.”
He keyed in a sequence and our ship's weapons came to life – releasing a barrage of laser beams and what looked like big glowing grenades. The first few detonated against their red shields. Then one section of their shields seemed to crumple, and a grenade hit them dead center, leaving a smoking crater.
“That should be enough to make them back off so we can continue on our way,” Zark said with a nod.
The enemy ship hovered for a moment, as though contemplating its next move. Then a hidden slot opened on its side, releasing something that looked like a one-person rocket ship, smooth and pointed.
I stared at it. “An escape pod?”
“I didn't hit them hard enough for them to abandon ship.” Zark frowned, consulting his instrument panel. “It appears to be a short-range fighter, but sensors aren't detecting any life forms aboard.”
Its thrusters flared, and it started toward us with lethal speed.
Zark's eyes widened, and his fingers started to fly across the keyboard. “By the stars – they've converted it into a giant remote-operated bomb! Its core is close to overloading!”
I gasped as the object on screen grew larger and more menacing by the second. “Will the shields stop it?”
“No, it would go right through them and blow us in half!”
“Then shoot it! Stop it!”
“What do you think I’m doing? It's almost inside our shields now,” Zark said, tapping more keys urgently. “We'll only get one shot at this. Brace for impact!”
One of our lasers fanned out in a wide arc, like a deck of cards produced b
y a magician. It sliced the tip off the rocket neatly, sending it careening off to one side – but the rest of it kept coming at us.
I flinched, drawing myself as far back into my seat as possible… and the rocket exploded right in front of us, the shockwave rumbling through the ship. Sparks flashed from several of the control panels around us.
Once I caught my breath, I asked, “Are we okay?”
“I must have hit the engine core of the rocket,” Zark said. “Thank the Succubi we did, or else it would have kept coming and smashed right into us. This ship is too large to have taken evasive action in time. As it is, the blast was still enough to damage one of our secondary thrusters. Until we get it fixed, our speed will be reduced by at least two-thirds.”
“Look!” I pointed at the view screen. “It's flying off!”
The saucer was pulling away from us, but its progress seemed weirdly slow to me.
“I've seen that move before,” Zark said grimly. “Modifying an escape craft or single-person fighter to act as a missile was a tactic that Torqa used to employ.”
“So she's probably on that ship, then, right?” I prodded. “Or whoever's on it knows where she is? We need to follow them!”
Zark shook his head slowly. “No. I don't think so.”
“Why not? Wasn't finding her the point of the whole mission?”
“Yes. It is. And she knows that's my mission, because those goons on the station will have contacted her by now. What's more, she knows that I'd recognize her trick, and that I'd assume the saucer would lead me to her.” Now it was his turn to point at the screen. “Look how slowly they're moving. With the damages to our propulsion systems, they could easily leave us in a cloud of space dust. But they want us to follow them. She sent them as a decoy, to make us think she's not on Egone after all.”
“Egone? The snow planet?” I shivered with dread. “That's where we're going?”
Zark cocked his head at me. “Yes. Why? Are you familiar with it?”
“A little too familiar, actually. It was where the raiders who took me from Earth brought me… it's where I was sold to Nos.” The unpleasant memory made a ball of ice form in my stomach. “It's a cold, shitty, miserable place, and I fucking hate it. I certainly don't feel like going back.”
“I'm not overly fond of the prospect, either,” Zark conceded. “I agree that it's one of the most wretched planets in the known galaxy, and filled with the worst sorts of people. Then again, that's all the more reason to believe that we'll find Torqa there… or, failing that, someone who knows where she is. Besides, the ship has clothes with built-in warming technology that will keep you from freezing. And I'll be there to protect you from any threats. I gave you my word on that, remember?”
“Yeah. I remember.”
I just wish I could let myself believe you'll be able to tackle any threat that might be waiting for us there. Because if what we just went through is any indication, we're up against someone who's smart as hell, not to mention pretty goddamn ruthless.
7
Zark
I piloted the Angel's Wrath into Egone's star system, and then carefully maneuvered it behind a stormy cluster of unstable gaseous clouds located near its edge. The system had no official name – it was cheerfully referred to (by those brave enough to enter its lawless borders) as the Reaper's Field, and the clouds were known as the Seven Scythes, since their unpredictable flares were known for suddenly lashing out and slicing smaller ships in half.
Thankfully, the Wrath's formidable armor and shields would prevent that from happening.
I hoped.
The gases would keep our vessel masked from sensors, since it wouldn't do for word to get around that the Valkred flagship was lurking around such a notorious place. It'd raise too many questions – and again, if the news of our arrival reached Torqa, she might bolt before we had a chance to grab her.
When I brought Miranda to the armory to find an insulated bodysuit that would fit her and protect her against the sub-zero temperatures on the surface, I couldn't help but notice that she was looking around the room apprehensively. The walls were lined with racks of Valkredian armor and weaponry – some ceremonial, some practical, some both. She stared up at them, her blue eyes wide.
“No need to worry,” I assured her. “They may look intimidating, but most of them are quite lightweight and easy to use. I'll choose a good one for you. We can't have you walking around completely defenseless down there, now can we?”
She shook her head. “It's not that. It's just… I guess coming back to this rotten place is shaking me up a little more than I realized. I can't help thinking that I'll be snatched up and sold into slavery again.”
“Well, last time you were here, you were unarmed and you didn't have me by your side,” I reminded her. “And I have no intention of letting anyone take you away from me. So overall, I'd say your chances of holding onto your freedom this time around are greatly improved, wouldn't you agree? Here, I believe I've found a size that will suit you.”
I handed a hooded suit with heavy padding to her, motioning for her to try it on. She stepped into it, pulling it up around her. It hung loose on her at first, but when I touched a small button on the back, the seals were activated and the whole suit sucked itself in, clinging to her tightly. She pulled the hood over her head and face, adjusting the built-in goggles over her eyes.
“Not very fashion forward, is it?” she asked, her voice muffled by the hood.
“Actually, I think it's quite becoming on you,” I joked, admiring the way the suit tightly hugged the contours of her hips. “And you can't claim it doesn't leave enough to the imagination. Besides, it's virtually stab-proof, and resistant to most blaster fire as long as it's not point blank.”
“Virtually stab-proof?” She winced. “Resistant to most blaster fire? Yeesh. That's one hell of a sales pitch. You really know how to make someone feel safe.”
“It's the most cutting-edge defense technology the Valkred Empire has to offer.”
“Then won't Torqa be outfitted with the same stuff?”
“Probably, yes.” I lifted a blaster rifle from one of the racks and handed it to her. “But it's unlikely that her underlings will be.” I helped her adjust the shoulder sling so she could carry it comfortably, then pointed out the settings. “This is to stun. This is to kill. And this is to atomize. I strongly advise you to keep the stun setting on. It'll be hard to obtain useful information from a corpse or a cloud of radioactive particles. The bayonet can easily be unclipped from the undercarriage and used as a combat knife or utility blade. Were you proficient with weapons on your home world?”
She chuckled humorlessly. “I, uh, pepper-sprayed a guy once because he was following me too closely. Turned out he was just about to ask me for directions, ha. Other than that, no, not really.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Pepper spray. I see. Well, the PZ-37 Infantry Model is a rifle, not a condiment, so please handle it with extreme caution lest you end up zapping me and leaving yourself on Egone without an escort, hm?”
“Fair enough.” She made a point to direct the barrel of the gun at the floor. “Better?”
“Much.” I put on my own bodysuit, grabbed a more sophisticated rifle from the rack, and led her to the shuttle bay where my unmarked junker was waiting.
“So why would Torqa come here?” Miranda asked, lowering herself into the co-pilot seat. “Shit, why would anyone come here if they didn't have to?”
I flipped the switches on the control panels, and the shuttle hummed to life. “Due to the cosmic flares in this system – and inhospitable climate of the planet itself – only the worst, hardest, most desperate outlaws go to Egone. There, they can hide from authorities, regroup, stock up on weapons and supplies, maybe recruit some allies for their next dirty deed. And as you saw, it's also a perfect place to conduct slave trading and other less-than-savory transactions without being subject to the taxes and unwanted attention that usually go along with them. That's probably w
hy a greedy little weasel like Nos came here to purchase you, instead of the usual Valkred slave markets.”
The bay doors opened and the shuttle lifted off the docking pad with a series of clanks, jangles, and metallic groans.
“How sure are you that this heap can get us down to the planet in one piece?” Miranda asked, her fingernails digging into the sides of her seat.
“Exceedingly certain.” I made a mental note: Next time, don't get a real clunker – just outfit a normal ship to look like one. The subterfuge might light up the odd sensor scan here and there, but it's better than being dead.
The starboard thruster cut out for a half-second, the shuttle dipped sharply, and for a terrible moment, it seemed like we'd miss the bay doors completely and smash into the bulkhead below them. Then the old rattletrap righted itself, missing the edge by what felt like microns and zooming out into space.
I turned and saw Miranda staring at me, shaking, eyes wide, jaw hanging open.
“Just keeping things interesting,” I said with forced cheer.
“Zark, I'm riding around in space next to an alien vampire, heading toward an ice planet full of intergalactic criminals so we can steal a magic book from another vampire and deliver it to a cosmic wizard. Trust me, things are already interesting enough for me, so just keep the ship from crashing, okay?”
I grinned and nodded, but the closer the shuttle got to the blue and white planet, the more my heart rate quickened. This was it. Either I wouldn't find Torqa here – in which case, I'd lose even more time trying to track her, all while this thrice-damned curse devoured me from the inside out – or I would, and I'd be face-to-face with one of the most lethal killers in Valkred history.
I'd told Miranda that I would protect her, and I had every intention of doing that, right up to my last breath if necessary.
I'd had plenty of training and been in my share of battles – I was confident I could prevail against most threats I encountered. But Torqa was a force of nature. And she wouldn't be alone, either… with her hidden wealth and resources, she could have secured the services of some of the galaxy's deadliest mercs and bounty hunters to guard her.
