Sherem

Lil Gibson

SHEREM Book 2: Feline Predators of Ganz

BY LIL GIBSON Venus Press LLC

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The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

FELINE PREDATORS OF GANZ 2: SHEREM Copyright © 2006 by Lil Gibson ISBN: 1-59836-271-2 Cover Art © 2006 by Dan Skinner All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America. For information, you can find us on the web at www.VenusPress.com

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Acknowledgements:

First and foremost I'd like to thank Deborah Lynne--cheerleader, motivator, brainstormer, editor, and most importantly, friend. To Charmin Kuhn, my friend and second pair of eyes. To Lynn Pittenger for her continuing lessons on grammar and sentence structuring, and patient friendship. And to my mother, Connie Shaffer, who knows the spelling and definition of every word in the dictionary off the top of her head. I love you Ma...you too Dad.

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Dedication:

To my husband John, my real life hero who has supported my writing habit from conception to fruition. I love you, honey.

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Prologue

Like ticks on a boar, they jumped and clung to the lone warrior. The Horta or mountain people rarely attacked another human so the situation was one of interest to the great beast observing the unfolding slaughter. The ankou matched the mountain people in height but walked on four legs instead of two and easily tripled their width and weight. Some believed the ankou synonymous with werewolf, while others an ancient myth told in deep night around a fire; it mattered not to the ankou for no one saw them and lived to tell the tale. The mountain people had lain in wait for the giant warrior for the better part of the afternoon, while one not of the mountain people handed out weapons and advice on usage. The arms, though not sophisticated—knives, clubs and mallets, would do damage enough. The one ambushed towered over his assailants and had the instincts and talent of a seasoned fighter, but the sheer number of Horta were against him, he would fall. The warrior knew his death grew near, but determination and well-honed reflexes prevented him from yielding to the inevitable. From a race of fierce predators himself, the ankou was impressed with the fierce one’s tenacious hold on his discipline; he would easily kill two thirds of the mountain people before succumbing to the next realm. But unlike any other bi-ped he encountered, he could read this one’s thoughts. The ankou read his determination, his anger, and self-recrimination at being caught unaware. The powerful human knew he had only moments left but refused to give up. The ankou felt a connection and a joining with the warrior that would force him to intervene. It was a feeling quite foreign to him but not unnatural. The ankou were loners, rarely traveling in packs as other similar species; they did however remain to raise their cubs and protect the she-ankou after mating. But this pull proved an anomaly; it held strangeness and rightness in the same grip. It was ordained. The warrior belonged to him and he would protect him. 6

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Rarely did his kind show themselves to humans and when they did, it did not bode well for the humans’ continued existence. Today would be no different. His path had just taken an unexpected turn but rather than question it, he would follow…little time remained. He gathered mass and took form even while gaining full speed toward the melee. When he roared, closing quickly now, the squatty Horta froze as one, then scattered like insects…

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Chapter One

Earth Year 2031 Princess Nadia, of the House of Ra, Province of Gattonia studied her reflection absently, mentally preparing herself for the confrontation ahead. If that were possible. Her reflection showed a non-descript female of almost twenty cycles with tawny hair, skin, and eyes that her sister-in-law referred to as cat eyes. Ordinarily she spent as little time in front of the mirror as possible. She’d overheard what others called her. Amber albino, one-color-wonder, lady leuko. She sighed and decided to add another layer of eyeshadow, blush, and lip color in a futile effort to add a little contrast to her features. Her last meeting with the Prince of Nefar grazed her consciousness and she shuddered—she wouldn’t think about that now, her mission to rescue her brother and family over-shadowed all else. In an instant, her eyes cleared and focused on her face with a ruthless determination spun from desperation. He must listen, she must convince him; little time remained—she grew certain of it. She rose from her vanity and exited her chambers without a backward glance. The Inner House Facilitator of the House of Baraden entered the private chambers of Prince Sherem, finding him engaged in a not uncommon exercise. “A visitor, my Prince, claiming to be one Princess Nadia, though one has to doubt her true identity considering the manner in which the 'true princess' exited some seven moons ago. If I recall, her exact words were, "I will return again to the House of Baraden when the fires of Effers Mountain freeze over!" Since that will likely not occur in the next thousand millenniums, one can only marvel at the miracle of her appearance today." He ended with a sniff that held feigned snobbery. "Do not tease, Julius, we discovered just how volatile the princess could be on her last visit." To say nothing of the first, he amended privately. "Behave graciously and show her into the receiving room. I will be with her as soon as I finish here." He motioned to his pleasurer to begin a faster pace. His heart began a staccato beat, causing 8

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his breath to quicken and a light sheen of sweat to appear on his exposed flesh. The changes could not be credited to his pleasurer’s actions but rather to the news just imparted. Nadia had come to him. His self-imposed exile was finally at an end. Staying clear of her these last moons had been harder than any battle he had waged, but at last his strategy had paid off. He closed his eyes to hide the fierce satisfaction shining there. He had made many mistakes concerning his future mate, gravely miscalculating her stubbornness and resolve...and vulnerability. But things would be different now; he would gain the upper hand and keep it, and finally have her where she belonged. A slight scuffle outside his chambers occurred before a rainbow of shimmering, layered shifts and flowing locks whooshed through his panel, skirted around Julius, and skidded to a halt several paces from Sherem. Utter silence prevailed while Julius, Sherem, and the pleasurer, kneeling on the floor between the prince’s legs, waited for the eruption sure to occur. Nadia gaped at the scene before her, her gaze tracing the naked, powerful torso that showcased more than a dusting of inky black hair. Gattonian males had no hair on their chests so the sight made her skin prick with awareness. It swirled around his chest circling dark nipples then migrated in an arrowed line toward the huge appendage between his thighs, now exposed, as the pleasurer sat back and licked her swollen lips. As the seconds passed, Nadia could seem neither to close her mouth…or her eyes to block the incomprehensible vision. Never had she seen or been prepared for anything of this magnitude. So sure of her welcome and put out by the rudeness of the IHF, she hadn't thought—still could not think. She froze; repulsed, disgusted…and somehow mesmerized by the long, thick member, bobbing slightly as if in greeting. Sherem quietly bid both the pleasurer and Julius from his chambers and again waited, seated before her, exposed. She blinked twice, as if trying to dispel the image, mouth still agape. Sherem grew distinctly uncomfortable. As an innocent, protected maiden in the body of a temptress, Sherem did not know whether he was further aroused at the sight of her riveted to his arousal or appalled by his blatant decadence. His shaft twitched in unsolicited response and her gaze finally came unglued from his manhood only to fasten on his steadfast scrutiny. He smiled knowingly and twin red blotches appeared on each of her cheeks. His discomfort turned into embarrassment tinged with shame at the unspoken accusation in her eyes He deplored being made to feel like a common troglodyte, a Horta, as though he had no right to his pleasure in the privacy of 9

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his own chambers, like an uncouth barbarian not worthy to lick her delectable booted feet. To make matters worse, when those feelings surfaced he tended to strike back, aggravating an already ticklish situation. While his mind grappled for civility, his tongue proceeded without it. "Nadia, misulu," he began softly, "either close your mouth and adjourn to my private study while I make myself presentable," he warned softly and motioned to a panel to his left, "or leave your mouth open and put it to use finishing what you interrupted with your uninvited presence in my private chambers." Inwardly, he winced at his crass suggestion. What got into him whenever she was near? Why couldn't he control himself…his tongue…his penis? Nadia snapped her mouth shut, then paused, and tilted her head slightly as if striving to comprehend the full meaning of his command, then quietly and carefully, as if she would shatter, made her way to the panel he indicated. It slid silently closed behind her. Sherem leaned back, eyes closed and grabbed his mane. Groaning aloud, he called himself twelve times an idiot, imbecile, and an unmitigated fool. Could the amount of ground he had just lost even be calculated? His fleeting triumph had been buried under an avalanche of dung and it had taken less than a minute to achieve. Stuffing his now semi-flaccid member into his breeches and fastening his shirt, he contemplated her reaction. She had not flown at him in a rage, as was her usual reaction to his seemingly never-ending insults to her sensibilities—or rail against him and his pointlessly base manner and offensive language, as he certainly deserved—did not even flee, as she sometimes chose to do. Zazu, she mystified him more with each encounter. Since entering society two cycles past, Nadia had acquired the label of "Ice Princess", a female with a bloodless, passionless nature. Sherem smirked at the thought for though she projected a cool demeanor and impenetrable reserve, in actuality, she possessed a kind-hearted, fragile spirit with the soul of a termagant and backbone of steel…and he should know. What she lacked in physical strength she made up in scathing words and cutting wit. At times, she fairly flew at him, her words zinging toward him like so many Tenian daggers, some hitting their mark with unnerving accuracy. Yet it hadn't always been so, he pondered, as he made for the clean room. When he had met her three cycles past, she had been a fresh, innocent, incredibly passionate-yet-shy child/siren and so easily wounded. She had been too young and 10

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wholly inexperienced. He was just now coming to suspect that his initial and ongoing handling of her might partially be responsible for the wall of frosty reserve she showed to the rest of the world. Zazu, he hoped not. But regardless of how it occurred, she had grown into a female equal to him in every way, who captured his soul, fired his blood and left him wanting her more with each hour. Memories of their first meeting wedged into Sherem's thoughts. He had been struck dumb at his first glimpse of her and marveled at the sheer power of her effect on his senses. And their first kiss, when her untutored body melded onto his like molten lava, she had scorched him for all time, ruining him for any other female. If he had believed in love, which he did not, he would have said it approximated love at first sight. It certainly evoked lust at first sight. He had spent more than three cycles trying to bind her to his side as lifemate, and yet with each meeting he alienated her further. And while many times in the past, he did not understand what occurred to widen the breach between them, this time he had deliberately bated her, proving what an uncouth Horta he could be. He had acted just as she probably expected. Was he demented? And what of her reaction? She had behaved with quiet dignity and devastating vulnerability. Vulnerability he had not witnessed since first encountering the quiet, unsure fledgling female that still haunted his dreams these three cycles past. A gaping vulnerability that brought out an impossibly strong instinct to protect her with every fiber of his being, even while the barbarian in him wanted to take her down and ride her mercilessly until forced to confess his dominion over her. The two conflicting emotions warring within were so diametrically opposed that, at times, he felt as if they were rending him in two. The people of Nefar were reputed to be the 'uncivilized ones’ of the planet Ganz; they were rougher, less refined, and more barbaric than those of the other Provinces. As mercenaries and warriors, they sold their skills to the highest bidder. With their lands all but devoid of natural resources, it remained the only method for keeping Nefar financially solvent and their people fed. He padded into the clean room to wash—and attempt to cleanse himself of the guilt coating his conscience before having to face Nadia.

*** Idiot, fool, imbecile; she called herself again and again. Oh, would she never learn? Though no word had come from Sherem since her last disastrous visit to the 11

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House of Baraden she had believed, was almost sure that she would be welcomed, that he would help her, and retained an interest in mating with her. She thought it her one bargaining chip that could be parlayed into a voyage to rescue her brother. Obviously, she had miscalculated, once more, and this time the blame laid squarely at the foot her own rash behavior. He was most likely laughing himself insensate at her expense. This proved even more degrading than her last visit. At least then, he hadn't known how he had hurt her, was unaware that she’d overheard what he and his friends thought of her and how his words pummeled her composure along with her self-worth. She wanted to leave and never set eyes on him again, but she was trapped in his inner sanctum with no escape-hatch handy, and she refused to walk back into his chambers. There was no telling what might be occurring there. She hugged herself tightly as she recalled her last visit. Sherem had been sitting with his male friends, playing a card game in the spacious study off the main entertainment hall where a band warmed up in preparation for the dancing to begin. His brother, Dakar, sent her to rouse him from his play; after hinting, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, that she was the only one likely to capture Sherem’s attention and get him to open the dancing. Butterflies commenced their own jig in her stomach at the thought of approaching him. She was addicted to him and had been since the first kiss he’d given her over three cycles past. Arriving at the House of Ra, in order to prepare for 'the evil invaders' attack, he launched a preemptive strike on her untried mouth and senses, shattering her equilibrium and changing her from child to grown female in the flash of an instant. The entrance to the study panel had slid open silently and assaulted her senses. The surroundings defined overpowering masculinity in both look, and feel; it even smelled like male with a combination of liquor, smoke, and sweat. Her gaze fastened on Sherem as he rearranged the cards in his hand. He spoke in a low lazy drawl that never ceased to set her abdomen humming, so that at first she didn't realize the conversation centered on her. "I will not let her go. Eventually I will wear her down, ease her skittishness and then she will be mine. I will have no other. I suppose that it is the one thing that made the Dargon invasion worthwhile," he commented through the grunts and chiding laughter around him. 12

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"She leads you around by your man root and you do nothing but drool," Rishd, the thin graying male commented. "Have you no pride; no will of your own? She is spoiled fluff encased in ice with all the passion of a rotted log. What makes you want to mate with one such as that? If you have an itch for her why not just tie her down, take her, tame her, and train her to your will?" The slimy Tenian leader spat into the spittoon next to him before adding. "Bah, Gattonians, they're over controlled, under feeling drones." She believed Sherem would defend her. "Be very careful, Rishd, you are discussing the future queen of Nefar. And I fully expect to do all you have suggested, but I will also pamper her all the hours of the day…on her back, on her stomach, on her knees, and any other position I choose," he replied softly with a dangerous flash suddenly clear in his midnight eyes. The others at the table began guffawing. "And I would venture to add that if her brother had overheard you just now, you would no longer be in your seat but on your head." "I agree with Rishd. Why do you bother with her?" Ollie, the Kerrdic diplomat seated on Sherem’s right wanted to know. "She has no contrast, nothing to break-up the monotony between hair, skin, eyes and personality. She is bland both in looks and temperament. A tawny albino, colorless as weak, tasteless broth, though I suppose you could keep more interesting females close at hand. She would most likely have no complaint, ascending as she would, to the rank of queen,” he commented with a smirk while throwing in his hand, signaling an end to the game. “But there are many others of equal rank, more amenable and easier to look at, and most of them are here tonight, why not just pick another and give up on the colorless Ice Maiden?" Sherem sighed and rolled his eyes before replying. "What is the most valuable export on Ganz, my friends?" Amusement unmistakable in his tone. Nadia had been thoroughly confused by the change of subject. What could that have to do with her? Rishd hissed and smacked the side of his pin-shaped head. "Why you sucking Syphor, you would gain permanent control over their Assyllis, both production and export for all time and bring untold wealth to yourself and your people.” He scratched his beard and his expression turned cunning. "My sons will someday be in line for the rule of Tena. They are not too much older than you and still quite popular with females. Maybe they should give you some competition, Nefari. They couldn't do much worse than 13

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you, so far." He licked his lips in lewd anticipation. "Perhaps she might even prefer an older male still full in his juices." Nadia had not stayed to hear more. She’d lunged madly to a near-by clean room and lost her evening meal. She was nothing to him but a monetary boon. She had come to believe he desired her for herself, when all along, it had been a ruthless ploy for power and wealth. She swore at that moment that the fires of Effers Mountain would freeze before she would mate with that hairy monzu, and not even then. That had been seven moons and three dawns ago and yet here she stood again, prepared to beg for his assistance if necessary. Nadia faced the window trying to hold on to her composure, even as tears slowly made their way down her cheeks. She did not notice the lush accoutrements of the room she occupied but instead gazed out the window and studied the harsh, rocky terrain that formed Nefar. Though stark and uncompromising with hidden crevices and jutting, unforgiving cliffs, it exuded a haunting majesty and awesome force that was as breathtaking as it was treacherous. Rather like Sherem, himself. It made her wonder at the similarities between herself and the land of Gattonia with its soft, gently rolling hills and constant sibilant breezes that played with the trees and flowers. She and Sherem were the exact antithesis of one another, forging a life together would have been an impossible disaster. It was good she had witnessed what she had today. Her budding dreams where the Nefari Prince was concerned disintegrated for good. She wondered if she could go forward with her plan. Sherem entered silently behind her and noted the slump of her normally erect shoulders. Still, she was magnificent in her flowing rainbow gown that showed everything and nothing at once; and her satiny mane that seemed to illuminate her in a golden halo, when kissed by the sun as it was now. She was exquisite, flawless. He wanted to touch her with an ache that had only grown since his first taste of her. How could he breach this latest chasm? He approached slowly and waited for her to sense his presence. Wave after wave of despair and a myriad of other dark emotions poured off of her bludgeoning his senses like physical blows. Though she made no discernable movement, he knew the moment she sensed him for he could see her muscles and tendons tighten to statue-like rigidity. He gently laid his hands upon her shoulders and traced the line from the base her dainty ears along the curve of her long neck down to the tops of her shoulders. When she didn't 14

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jerk away, he enfolded her within a careful embrace and held her to him. She slowly relaxed and leaned her head back against his chest. She seemed as weary of their confrontations as he. "Nadia…misulu," he whispered softly. "For just this moment…no recriminations, no ill feelings. Let us be in accord. I have missed you greatly and would hold you to me. You have a talent for making me feel like the lowest form of refuse crawler." "That's because you are one," she muttered even as she leaned against him. Could it be she needed this brief reassurance as much as he? He gently kissed and then laved the hollow at the base of her neck where he would one day mark her as his mate. Rarely, from the time they met had she allowed him such access. Nadia felt herself melt into Sherem. Zazu, what this male did to her when he spoke in that soft raspy voice, the low hypnotic cadence and exotic accent of the Nefari, reaching deep into her very core. More potent than any mixture of jive, Sherem’s scent intoxicated her beyond reason. He made her feel sheltered, protected, and small as he bowed over her, eclipsing her height more than six inches. At these times, she would follow him into the fires of Hades; where she briefly visited each time he kissed her. Thank the heavens he normally communicated with clipped commands and drawling cynicism issued across a room. Sherem meant to comfort her in a non-sexual manner but the longer she let him hold her, the more aroused he became. Her intoxicating fragrance and lush pliant curves settled against him sending his senses spinning. She would feel it at any moment. What was he to do? The civilized thing, of course, would be to step away and regain control. A pity he was Nefari. He smiled and ran a finger down the inside of her arms, barely grazing the outside of each breast; gratified when a tremor stole through her in reaction to his touch. He snaked one arm around her waist to anchor her while he lowered a hand to her abdomen, splayed his fingers firmly against her, and pressed, cradling himself in the crevice of her buttocks. He groaned. It only took a moment for her to react. She yelped and tried to pull away but he held her firmly and growled in her ear. "Feel what you do to me each time I touch you, misulu, each time I see you, smell you, or even conjure your image in my dreams." Nadia snorted with strangled conviction and replied, "You think I am flattered, you great monzu? That happens to you with any female, as I witnessed first hand not ten minutes ago! Now release me, I did not come for this, I need you for quite another 15

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purpose." Nadia didn't know where the strength came from to pull away, when all she wanted entailed reassurance and kisses, but with her strength came anger, and with anger came resolve. "She is a pleasurer, Nadia, a gift from the people of Jasper," Sherem enunciated succinctly, looming over her, his hands placed arrogantly on his hips. "She serves no purpose but to give me sexual exercise and physical release. It is mechanical—altogether different from what I feel for you." "Ha!" Nadia returned with equal hauteur. "If it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck, and quacks like a duck," she recited, staring pointedly at his erection. "It ain't no dog!" Sherem gawked at her incredulously, as if she had instantly sprouted horns. Well, at least she had his undivided attention, she decided. "What are you talking about? What 'duck'? I have never heard it referred to as a 'duck'. Perhaps a 'cock' on certain planets…" He seemed to run out of words as he studied her, probably waiting for an explanation. Actually, Nadia didn't know exactly the significance of the duck but it was an earth saying that her sister-in-law, Catarina, employed frequently and it seemed to fit the occasion. "You have missed the point. How is your erection different with me than with your pleasurer? It seems to me that one would be the same as another," she asked with genuine curiosity behind the accusation. A thought suddenly occurred to her. Could Nefari males be different? Maybe they were just built that way and constantly required assistance in order for it to deflate. The Earth romances she regularly read never mentioned such an affliction but then they did not know of the Nefari. Maybe she was embarrassing him. Actually, he looked like he had just swallowed something unpleasant. He could barely credit the words pouring from her mouth. She wanted to know about his erections? Was she supposed to know the word? Even at twenty cycles she remained naïve in the ways of lovemaking. Was her sister-in-law telling her things best left to her mate to explain? Of one thing he was certain; he did not want to explain about erections. Studying him uncertainly, her gleaming white teeth worried her moist, plump lower lip.

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This reassured him, what did it matter in the long run how she found out about erections? He smiled. "When the time comes, little one, I will show you rather than tell you. Now why have you come?" She started at the change of topic and looked chagrined as the words burst from her with abject urgency. “I need your help, Sherem. It is of utmost importance that a ship be dispatched to Earth in search of my brother and his family. He left on the Miramid some six moons past and hasn’t been heard from in over four, when they entered Earth’s atmosphere. They are in trouble; I can feel it. Please, Sherem, you are my only hope,” she implored, resting her hand lightly on his chest, her eyes, beseeching. “What of your High Council misulu. Surely if a problem existed, they would send a ship immediately.” Sherem was confused. A common enough occurrence when dealing with his future mate. He had been aware of Gattonias’ mission to look into atmospheric irregularities surrounding Earth that could eventually impact their own galaxy. He did not, however, know that Zorroc headed the mission with his family in tow. He focused carefully on Nadia’s next words. “The members of the Council…” She licked her lips nervously and blinked rapidly. A wholly uncommon occurrence and one that brought all of Sherem’s protective instincts to the fore. “They won’t listen to me. They discounted my concerns as missish…and chastised me for my efforts to contact my brother through COM transmissions not cleared by the Council. They dismissed me out of hand, or you might say; kicked me out and barred me from making further appeals,” Nadia admitted, ruefully. How dare they treat their Princess with such disrespect, dismiss her as one would a common citizen, and leave her feeling foolish and powerless when in truth, she could be next in line to rule Gattonia if something happened to Zorroc and his off-spring. Sherem’s ire built at a steady rate until all that filled his vision was red…

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Chapter Two

Nadia arrived back at the House of Ra, feeling cautiously optimistic. It went better than she had expected, especially considering the way her visit began. Sherem promised to do some checking of his own and call upon her by weeks' end to let her know if he would send a ship to earth to search for her brother. She had not yet made the stipulation that she would be on that ship and he had not yet made any stipulations of his own. She devised several well thought out scenarios rendering her presence essential, and continued to fine-tune her arguments. She would be on that voyage. Nadia had told Sherem a COM would be sufficient to deliver his answer as to his assistance but he had insisted on responding in person. Was he making the concession because of the scene she witnessed in his private chambers? Maybe she could use his contriteness to sway him to her thinking, because she would be on that ship even if she had to stow away. For though her concern for her brother and family outweighed all else, she also wanted this adventure with a longing born from years of tedium and over protectiveness on the part of her aunts and brother. While they and everyone else she knew constantly traveled the galaxies, exploring different worlds, and meeting diverse peoples, Nadia had remained tethered to the House of Ra like a princess trapped in a tower. A hothouse flower stuck in a carefully regulated greenhouse. She was sick of being pampered, sick of being too young, too sheltered and too bored. Half of her felt guilty that she’d use her family’s disappearance as a means to get off the planet, but the other half hoped they could postpone their safe return another week or two so she would be on her way and too late to stop. She didn’t worry about being with Sherem because she knew he’d never hurt her or get too rambunctious out of respect for her brother. She had kept him at arms length for three cycles and was sure she could continue for another few weeks. Besides, this opportunity could give them a chance to know one another better. More than likely, he would lose interest in her all together. 18

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Nadia frowned at her last thought for it didn’t make her feel the relief she anticipated. Sherem made careful inquiries as to the status and last known coordinates of the Miramid. He did not want the Gattonian High Council to get wind of his plans for their princess. They could deduce that he intended to take her with him and step in to block his plans. That he would not allow. But how to inform Nadia her presence on board the Portender was a non-negotiable requirement. Ultimatums were ineffective and caused her to become more intractable. If the last three cycles had taught Sherem aught else, it was that. When he pushed, she pushed back even harder. So he would entice her, perhaps put her in a position where the idea to accompany him became her own. He could hint that her presence was essential because of the telepathic link she shared with her brother. In truth, it might come in handy. Nadia would do anything for her brother— and Sherem would do anything to have Nadia. He would do his best to seduce her into acquiescence but if that failed, he would somehow trick her into coming aboard and then depart. She would be trapped and compromised forcing her brother to approve the joining whether she chose it or not. Sherem smiled with wolfish intent. She would be neatly trapped. It was a good plan. He felt more optimistic than he had in a very long time. He resumed issuing orders for his ship and began to plot a course to Earth.

*** Dakar closed down the View-COM that observed Sherem making inquiries and giving orders to make the Portender travel-ready by weeks' end. Sherem intended to help the Gattonian Princess, and Dakar needed no View-COM to confirm it. He could feel it clear down to his bones. And his brother would use the Princess's request to trap her into a lifemating. Sherem was clearly in love with the golden goddess, but too stubborn to admit it, even to himself. Especially to himself. In the past, Dakar would have advised that a true lifemate made a stronger warrior, not a weaker one, and that refusing to acknowledge the truth of his feelings, made him more and not less vulnerable. But no more. Sherem’s would-be assassins may not have succeeded in killing him, as yet, but they had terminated the life long bond of trust and friendship between brothers. Dakar had been all but accused of masterminding the attacks on Sherem’s life. Instead of Sherem siding with him in the face of the allegations, however, he sided with the accusers. After all, Dakar was next in line for the rule of Nefar. Who else could it be? 19

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Sherem no longer sought his counsel, his company, or his protection and when that became clear to the others around them, Dakar became an outcast, a betrayer. The irony was that he was the one betrayed, by everyone he loved and trusted. Now Dakar's opportunity for revenge had finally arrived. They had chosen his role, and he would faithfully play his part. He smiled and began forming his own plans.

*** "So what did you think of her, Bran? Not quite the frigid ornament everyone believes, yes?" The ankou studied him for a moment before telepathing an assent into Sherem's mind. It was an odd talent Sherem had, and one he’d never admitted to another human. He could read the thoughts of animals and they his. It was something he had been born with and so inherent in his nature, he rarely thought on the uniqueness of it. But that talent had saved his life several moons before when the ankou had come to his aid in the midst of an assassination attempt by a tribe of rouge Horta, the mountain people of Nefar. Experts theorized the Horta to be the original inhabitants of Ganz and a more primitive life form than the remaining humanoids, which were considered to be transplants from other galaxies. No one, however, could substantiate these theories or negate them. It was also presumed that the Nefari and the Gattonians had a shared ancestry and simply evolved differently due to the lands they occupied, which also could not be substantiated. And how to explain the unusual capabilities of the people of Ganz; capabilities not found on other planets within their galaxy. The Gattonians, the province to the south, were known telepaths with expanded talents not spoken of to outsiders. The people of Kerr, the province to the east of Nefar, could travel out of their bodies to anywhere they chose, leaving their bodies behind in a state of rest. The people of Tena, the province to the west and south of Nefar, had telekinetic abilities. He had witnessed a Tenian levitate a starship seventy calabrays off the ground as if it weighed no more than a feather. And what of the Nefari? Their heightened senses allotted them the uncanny ability to defeat the enemy and defend themselves in battle. They could feel slight changes in the air and detect the exact location of movement even blinded. They could smell one of a different race, which avoided wounding a comrade and their eyesight was so keen they could react to a threat before an enemy flinched. They were fierce warriors, feared throughout the galaxies. On certain planets, they were purported to be un-killable, immortal. They were not, of course. 20

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But Sherem could read animals, could mind-speak with them, and they with him. He knew of no other with similar ability. It involved not so much transference of thought, as feelings. Similar to using music to communicate in lieu of words. And it had saved his life in the form of the ankou. Many thought they were a myth. Something spook stories were woven around. Rarely seen and greatly feared by the Horta, it was said they not only killed humans, but devoured them leaving nothing, not even a bone or a drop of blood. They were considered immortal, as well. Sherem was unsure about that part. Bran stood four feet tall at the shoulder and over two feet wide. He looked similar to a very large, shaggy, and menacing wolf. He'd come to Sherem's assistance when no less than thirty Horta had ambushed him after the annual meeting with the Chief Horta in charge of Macronadin mining. “Your mind wanders to the squattys that attacked you.” “Horta not squattys,” Sherem corrected telepathically. “Who is to know what I call them, but you? It cannot hurt. And the description is apt; my language skills are improving,” Bran pointed out. “It can hurt when next I meet with them and call them squatty, by mistake.” “Ahh.” Bran knew his friend relived past frights. “You fought well, that afternoon, why do you dwell on it? You change the scenarios of fight strategies, picture yourself armed, worry on the how of it. You were not unprepared or careless. How could you have foreseen an evil force handing the squattys weapons, demonstrating use, and rewarding them with much food, skins and metals?” “You are right, I suppose. It still baffles me, though. The Horta have never raised arms, their minds are childlike and simple, not malicious. They know only kindness from us; we have cared for them for centuries.” “Your tribe pack spent many suns teaching them how to cut and use the black rocks, as well.” “It’s Macronadin and we taught them to mine it to instill self-reliance and respect for themselves. It is one of few natural resources on Nefar and precious to us.” “It provides heat for those without natural coats.” Bran paused and scratched behind an ear before shaking his rich bushy fur.

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“Yes, it’s used throughout the galaxies. Three cubic inches can be heated by a single blazer-blast and warm a six-calabray area for close to a full moon. It has saved the life of many a stranded traveler; all now carry a piece.” “I have seen them eat from it,” Bran stated. “Yes, it can be carved and shaped into a wide shallow bowl and used for cooking,” Sherem remarked absently. “Your mind is still on the attack, my friend.” A grunt was Sherem’s only response. The ambush occurred on his way home riding his horse, Rina, as the roughness of the northern terrain sorely limited the landing options of a micro-jet. The attack had been well planned by an outsider bent on his demise yet one who knew of his practice to visit the Horta unarmed. Sherem took down at least ten but had been badly injured in the process; he believed his chances of survival dwindled with each second and silently cursed his inattentiveness and credulity where the Horta were concerned. Just as another blow clubbed the back of his head, he heard a chilling howl loud enough to wake the spirits. The Horta began scattering in mad disarray but to no avail. Every one of them were torn apart by a giant beast in the midst of a blood lust Sherem could only watch in horrified awe. When the Horti were dispatched, the beast came and stood over him, panting fiercely and looking around as if expecting other intruders. The beast touched his mind with a feeling of unleashed protectiveness and tentative affection. Sherem thanked him for his timely intervention and the two had been inseparable since. Sherem named the ankou Bran after a mythical monstrous beast from ancient mythology and he became his protector. Bran had the capability to shift, as to make himself all but invisible, and Nadia had not detected his presence when she visited his chambers or when the ankou had quietly followed her into his private study. He was fairly confident that if Bran had made himself known to her, she would have run screaming from his House and this time not have returned even if the fires of Effers Mountain had frozen. The two padded companionably down the main hall toward the COM room where he intended to finalize preparations for departure. If Zorroc and his family were truly missing, it could disrupt the entire political balance of Ganz and possibly beyond. Secrecy also guided his moves or his plans for Nadia could be forfeit. It proved sad and not a little ironic that he could trust no one but Bran. At one time, 22

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Sherem would have sought the advice of his brother, Dakar, but as he had surfaced as the prime suspect behind the numerous assassination attempts, he did not deem it prudent. Dakar had inherited the greater portion of savoir-faire in the family, imbued with a wry sense of humor and natural empathy that made him the consummate diplomat— and probably a much better leader than Sherem. A trick of birth, however, decreed it otherwise unless, of course, something happened to Sherem. Dakar swore repeatedly that he harbored no desire for Sherem's place; further, counted himself blessed not to be saddled with the burden of ruler. However there remained the very short list of those who would benefit from Sherem’s demise. It almost had to be Dakar or their younger brother, Rand, the baby of the family and three cycles younger than Dakar. The two were sent off-world to the knowledge planet and raised together, while Sherem remained in Nefar as the future ruler. Rand and Dakar had been inseparable until their father summoned Dakar home to be trained as a backup in case something should befall the current heir to the realm. Rand’s only interests revolved around scholarly pursuits. Even when he returned home for occasional visits, his nose was never out of a book or away from an educational screen program. He did not seem to discriminate on subject matter; his mind acted as a sponge that required constant watering in the form of knowledge. He was quiet, reserved and the least violent male that Sherem had encountered. Power meant less than nothing to Rand and violence, positively abhorred him. He was often teased for his aversion to combat and weaponry, an inherent Nefari trait. Sherem’s ministers had nothing to gain by his demise. What would be the difference between one brother and another? There would be no gain of power or increased wealth. And his father, the King? That was even more ridiculous than the ministers' theory. It always returned to one person—Dakar.

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Chapter Three

"Dakar, what a surprise! Please make yourself to rest." Nadia beamed and then turned to Jaffers, Inner House Facilitator to the House of Ra and requested, "Jaffers please bring Choc-tea and scones at once." "I would rather have Eden wine," Dakar confessed, "It has a little more punch to it, if that would be convenient." He smiled and winked at Nadia. She laughed and said, "You are absolutely right, Dakar, Eden wine does have more punch, and for someone with your quiet ways and demeanor," she teased, "you need all the punch you can get. Make it so Jaffers and I'll have some too." Dakar laughed outright. “What has become of the reserved, quiet child I was introduced to three cycles past? I think your body has been possessed by an alien faerie minx," he finished feeling well pleased and a little smug that she could be so comfortable in his presence. "I missed your visit yesterday," he continued, "you and my brother did not have another fracas, I hope. It seems the two of you cannot be in close proximity for more than three minutes before sparks collide. With my brother, fracases are all too common place, except with the female persuasion, of course, but you are always as calm as a languid pond and as gentle as a soft breeze until you and my brother share the same air. I have never quite understood that. It is an enigma, yes?" "It is a very long story and entirely your brother's fault," Nadia replied, the spark in her eyes still visible. "Enough polite diplomatic chit-chat, Dakar, you would not just drop in unannounced and therefore, must be on a mission of some sort." Conversation halted as the proper Jaffers returned with refreshments, then quickly departed. "I am crushed you’d think I would not visit for the shear pleasure of your company, princess, I believed us to be quite good friends and allies," he enjoined intentionally. He took a long savoring sip of the outstanding wine and played for time, 24

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hoping to prick Nadia’s curiosity. Then added thoughtfully, "This may not work out as my brother intended if you do not consider me a worthy comrade and are uncomfortable in my presence." "Laser it, you buffoon. Speak plainly and quickly before I show you just how comfortable with you I am and anoint you with the remainder of my wine." "Spoken like a true faerie minx," Dakar responded with good humor, lowering his gaze to cloak the steely resolve shining there. The brothers were similar in appearance on initial meeting, but Nadia had come to realize they were as different as sunlight and night. Although alike in bone structure and height, Sherem was broader, darker, and courser with sharper facial planes, and a brooding sometimes ruthless manner. Dakar sported the grace and sleek lines of a fine thoroughbred with a playful disposition and affable non-threatening presence. And while both had pitch-black hair, Sherem’s black eyes exuded menace while Dakar's were a light gray-blue and seemingly guileless. She wondered at the validity of that sincerity now as she studied him, waiting for a reply. He sighed and began. "Sherem has done some checking and determined that your brother and the others on the Miramid may indeed require assistance. In fact, he grows concerned, since so much time has elapsed, that speed is of the essence. He has gone on ahead to do some further checking and has credited me with the task of escorting you to the planet where he’ll await our arrival. If you are uncomfortable with this solution or have decided not to accompany him, he will simply continue on to earth. Either way he will go after your brother," he finished, concern evident in his voice and manner. Nadia’s head swam; panic and joy warring within her for supremacy. Panic that Sherem believed her brother and his party to be in danger and joy at finally being let offplanet. Nadia had been struck with wanderlust five cycles ago when her brother and Prolinc departed for earth. She’d begged for days to be allowed to accompany them, only to be told she was too young and the voyage too dangerous for her. Nadia’s entire family treated her like the most delicate filigree; one small mishandling and she would shatter. She was sick of it and now had her chance for an off-world adventure with no one around to say her nay. The aunts could be easily gotten around and Bandoff, Prig Head of the High Council, need not hear of it until she was well and truly gone. Something, however, rang false about the offer, coming too easy and happening too fast for her comfort. So 25

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she proceeded with the practiced calm and cautiousness she’d worn like a cloak all her life. "We did not discuss my going along, in the event he decided to make the journey. Are you sure he approved my accompanying you both? Maybe you misunderstood, Dakar." Dakar felt his mask slip a fraction and crossed his long legs while grabbing for his Eden-wine, taking a large pull before replying. Sherem had not broached the subject of her accompanying him? That made no sense, surely that was the only reason he’d consider redirecting one of their mother ships away from Nefar, on a wild goose chase to Earth or wherever he planned to take her. Dakar was quite sure that Zorroc and the Miramid were in no danger or the High Council of Gattonia would have sent one of their own ships to investigate. Obviously, Sherem was merely leading her down the garden path and had planned to deliver his ultimatum when he arrived with the news of his assistance. She began studying him dubiously; he must assuage her suspicions. "How clumsy of me. I assumed that since he spoke of you joining us, the two of you had already agreed upon it. This is awkward, as he wanted us to depart as soon as possible, within hours if possible for we are due to meet up with him in five days on a planet close to earth resting just on the cusp of our galaxy. As we will be traveling by public convoy, every minute counts. One must wait for available space and we’ll require a private bunker. I will not expose you to danger, for fear of death at the hands of my brother," he clarified comically by grabbing his throat and hanging out his tongue. "Once we have joined him on Jasper, Sherem said he’d try to contact the Miramid. He wants to confirm the MIA status before executing a galaxy jump to Earth," Dakar concluded matter-of-factly. Nadia closed her eyes, took a deep breath then jumped to her feet. “I’ll be ready before you finish the carafe of wine.” She flew from the room. Dakar smiled triumphantly. With her packing complete Nadia paused, shielding her thoughts from any who would endeavor to read them. She felt a vague sense of unease; make that a healthy dose of guilt. She could mind-speak to her aunts to let them know of her plans but she was afraid they would come rushing home and try to prevent her from leaving. To fortify her resolve, she mentally replayed her aunt’s reproof from early that morning. 26

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“Nadia, there is nothing we can do or that you can do at this juncture. You have spent countless hours scanning for any sign of a distress beacon and tried repeatedly to COM the Miramid—much to the consternation of the High Council. They will not dispatch another ship to Earth for fear of weakening Gattonian defenses until it can be confirmed that there is, indeed, a need for assistance. And you know that other than extreme emergencies, COM silence was to be maintained. It would be a disaster for our COM transmissions to be intercepted, and with Earth technology advancing so rapidly, it could happen at any time. The many COMs and probes you transmitted may be zinging around their universe for years to come, just waiting to be discovered. No wonder the High Council is put out with you, and refuses to give you another audience, dearling.” Her Aunt Helen always used the old-fashioned endearment when delivering her lectures, and was the one who shared the thousands of romance novels she brought back from her many travels to Earth. Her Aunt Marie was more pragmatic and gruff, poohpoohing happily ever after and sweet sentiment. Both had chosen not to mate; instead, becoming historians, tracking the political progress and cultural changes on Earth, located a galaxy away. Following the initial Dargon invasion, that all but destroyed the female population of Gattonia, they were sent to Earth on an assignment even Nadia was not privy to, then returned two cycles later with a group of Earth women, her new sister in-law among them—and incredible amounts of new data to assimilate. It seemed to Nadia that their brains were stuffed with so many facts, that little room remained for anything else. Like fashion sense…or common sense. She adored them. But if she sought to get their permission to search for her brother, Marie would start cursing and Helen would begin crying and… Hello Aunts, Sorry I missed you. Jaffers said you would not return until this evening and I was unable to wait. Sherem has sent for me. We are going after Rocky and the Miramid immediately, as he is convinced time is of the essence. I love you. Do not worry, all will be fine. Nadia. That evening, Helen and Marie stood staring at the COM screen like two startled owls, thinking maybe if they blinked enough times the words left by their niece would somehow morph into another message entirely. It was not to be. "Oh, dear…" Helen whispered. 27

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Chapter Four

Sherem decided to wait until the day before weeks' end to call on Nadia with his decision. He wanted her flustered and slightly panicked that his answer would be 'no'. That way, if she had reservations about making the voyage with him, she would be easier to manipulate to his wishes. He would have his way in this for though he was convinced that the Miramid could be in danger, there would be no voyage without her onboard. He was not that altruistic, after all. Dressed for travel in standard combat attire, he had every intention of leaving directly from the House of Ra to his ship, the Portender—with Nadia in tow. His shirt was of the finest linen, his vest, breeches, and over the knee boots were Kameri leather. It was light, soft and virtually indestructible. Even a direct hit from a blazer could not penetrate it. The process of curing and enhancing the naturally black leather remained a well-guarded secret known only to a handful of Nefari. He had dressed in his leathers everyday since the ambush and possessed several hidden weapons, as well. He would not be caught unaware again. As he studied his reflection in the mirror, an inner glow of triumphant satisfaction shown clearly through his eyes. He had won; she would soon belong to him. As soon as they departed on their journey, she would be alone with him and his crew and be hopelessly compromised. And he fully intended to seduce her to make it complete. Not even her brother would be able to intervene, which led to thoughts of Zorroc…and Rosik, the captain of the Miramid. Sherem's very good friend. It had taken a lot of heavyhanded persuasion to get the information he required and when he did, he hadn’t liked what he heard. Nadia had been right; there was much reason for concern. When he’d acquired further clarification on the whereabouts and status of the Miramid, a moment of searing foreboding flooded his mind. How would Nadia survive the loss of her brother and his family; it would tear her to shreds. And what of Gattonia? It would be left without a clear leader. It was probably a good thing she would be mated to him. He 28

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would take care of both her and Gattonia if it became necessary. He made his way with determined strides toward his destiny, the ankou by his side. Why was Jaffers gaping at him as if he was some sort of specter? Sherem, who’d arrived at the House of Ra a minute before, had yet to be admitted. "Jaffers let me in. I am expected by the Princess, I assure you," he stated succinctly while nudging the IHF aside to gain entrance. "Jaffers!" he barked once inside. "The Princess…now! I will be in the study." Was the Inner House Facilitator having a fit of some sort? Sherem made his way down the hall to the proper panel and entered the family living area to await his future mate. He grew impatient to be off now that the time was at hand. Surely, by now she’d be frantic to speak with him. As the minutes passed, Sherem became more and more restless. He wished he had brought Bran in with him. That would surely have garnered some action. He looked up as the panel slid open emitting a muddled disarray of colors, arms, legs and grunts as the aunts came bobbling into the room as one entity, halting less than a calabray from him. As the two split apart, straightening hair, skirts, and sweatshirts, they all stared dumbfounded at one another, clearly unable to form a coherent thought. Helen recovered first. "But you can't be here, Sherem, she is with you on her way to Earth. She departed five days ago, left us a COM saying that you had come for her, packed up and left right then…why are you here, have you lost her, then?" Helen asked, fingers twitching, lower lip trembling and eyes beginning to water. Sherem stood and took both of the round cherubs into his arms, though they only reached waist high. "Don't worry, we will straighten it all out," he crooned gruffly and glanced up to focus on Jaffers. "What happened Jaffers, who did she leave with that day, did you recognize him?" "No, your highness, but I did hear her call him by name. It was Dakar. She called him Dakar," he responded softly. Sherem swayed precariously and thought for a moment that they were doomed for a hard landing at Jaffer's feet. But he got hold of himself; though feared his dark bronze complexion had turned the color of mottled cream. He sat down heavily on the plush seat behind him, locked in his own internal quagmire. Why would Dakar kidnap Nadia? Was it some kind of twisted revenge for 29

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their disassociation as brothers? Could he want to compromise Nadia himself so Sherem would never have her? That would be the most sweeping revenge of all. Surely, he wouldn't harm her. She was not a part of what transpired between them as brothers and he honestly thought that Dakar liked her. He shut his eyes, trying to hold in his emotion and keep the bone chilling fear at bay. He had to think. He looked up and focused on Jaffers. "I know you would not listen in on private conversations, Jaffers, but did you by chance overhear anything that might give us a clue as to his destination or plans?" Sherem questioned, huskily. Jaffers almost smiled at the tactful manner in which the Prince phrased the question, but the truth was that any Inner House Facilitator worth his salt knew everything that went on in his domain using whatever means at his disposal to learn it. He answered. "I did not hear Dakar mention a planet by name, but overheard him explain that you’d gone ahead to a planet closer to Earth but within our galaxy and there you would try once again to contact the Miramid before making the final commitment to galaxy jump to Earth's solar system. Dakar said you would be waiting for them," he concluded, wishing he could be of more help. First Zorroc and now Nadia, what could they do? "Thank you, Jaffers; it will be a starting point. Helen, Marie, here is my COM direction. If you hear from Nadia, get her position, by tracker if she doesn’t know her coordinates. No—by tracker period. Dakar may be misleading her as to their location so keep the auto track on at all times and capture any incoming transmissions."

*** "Where is he, Julius? Where is your golden boy?" Sherem demanded, his voice a raspy husk of his usual cynical drawl. He had returned to the House of Baraden and would get the information he demanded or sever his IHF's head from his shoulders, from the look of him. "What has happened, my Prince, what is wrong?" Julius implored, his voice not quite steady. Dakar had been angry, furious really and hurt at his brother's continued refusal to believe in his innocence of the assassination attempts. Nothing Dakar could say had swayed his brother in his steadfast belief that his own brother wanted him dead for political gain. And Sherem's silent accusations were eroding his favorite charge from 30

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the inside out. Julius dreaded to know the extent of the damage done to their relationship. But he was about to learn. "Dakar has kidnapped Nadia," Sherem hissed. Julius sat down with a thump, something no IHF would do in front of their lord. "What have you done, Dakar. This will not help your cause but weaken it," Julius mumbled to himself, his hands cradling his face. "Where is he Julius, you always know what he is up to," Sherem continued, taking the seat across from him and dragging his hands through his hair impatiently. "I have checked the roster of departing ships and all are accounted for so he found an alternate way off the planet, unless he is still here holding the Princess prisoner somewhere. Talk to me Julius," he demanded with renewed vexation. "He has had her for five days." Julius sighed. "I overheard him making travel arrangements the day of the Princess's visit. I thought he planned to take one of his pleasurers and depart to escape the tension that has become so thick between you," he admitted. "I would check his COM; I am quite sure he will want you to find him. Most likely he is just tweaking your nose, my Prince," Julius concluded, praying that it would be the extent of Dakar's perfidy. Julius looked like he was withering before Sherem's eyes. Sherem had not meant for the breach between his brother and himself to infect the others around them so profoundly, and yet that is what had occurred, everyone choosing sides against the other. It never should have come to this, and now Nadia was involved as well. An outsider not of their House and yet drawn into their intrigue. She was so innocent, so untouched. If anything happened to her physically or emotionally, he did not know what he might be capable of to avenge her.

*** Nadia felt as if she had fallen into a waking dream that no amount of skin pinching could alter. The planet of Jasper was ornate and opulent. The color scheme of the land and living structures were similar to Gattonia but the fluid, ornate design of the buildings were exotically carved and intricately inlaid with colorful reflective tiles that formed wondrous murals. The people, too, dressed in garb that could only be described as liquidly rich as a rainbow through a waterfall after a shower and Nadia wanted to giggle at her own thoughts. She had seen many holos of Jasper but they did not come close to the reality. 31

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Her adventure had begun. Dakar gawked at her fit of tittering and she acknowledged that the sounds of her delight were foreign to her own ears then let another round escape. So dazzled by her visual preoccupation, she was unprepared when they were shown directly into Queen Heptshu’s private receiving rooms and the Queen herself in residence. She was tiny, as short as Cat, but wide, as if she enjoyed the castle cook’s cooking above all else. And she was in direct contrast to the other people they had come into contact with, so far. The people of Jasper had a fluidity of motion in both speech and physical movement. It made Nadia feel like the proverbial bull in a china shop…but not the Queen. She fairly charged into the room, clomping purposely with voice booming. She presented such a stark dichotomy to her subjects Nadia could only stare silently. “Dakar, you young stud, it is a pleasure to see you again. Can I assume that Sherem follows close behind? We have business.” The bluntness of her inquiry surprised Nadia out of her daze. She used no protocol of greeting. It was most unusual. “You are astute as always, my Queen.” Dakar’s eyes twinkled and he winked as he added, “And as graciously tactful, as ever. May I present Princess Nadia, sister to Zorroc, of the House of Ra, province of Gattonia.” The queen caught and held her gaze. She felt as if the Queen gleaned every hidden facet of her being. Nadia found it chilling, the affably brash façade masked a keen intelligence and razor-sharp perception. Little wonder she was the most respected leader in the galaxy. Only a fool would underestimate her. Finally, she nodded slowly. “Sherem will take you to mate; it will be a good match.” When Nadia opened her mouth to protest, the Queen cut her off. “You will stay in the palace as my guests. Rooms will be set-aside for Sherem and his party. Patz, show the Prince and Princess to their separate chambers.” “Not a particularly chatty person, is she?” Nadia whispered under her breath for Dakar’s ears alone. Dakar grinned. It had been a long three-day journey to their destination, for public transportation was slow and there had been many stops along the way. The travel ship consisted of five levels; the fifth was the luxury dome and was completely transparent. The view mesmerized Nadia on the first night but eventually became monotonous containing endless star systems and planets twinkling through the black void. People watching, however, provided a constant source of fascination. For though she was highly educated 32

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and familiar with the varying species occupying the many planets within the universe, the ability to observe them first hand rather than by octi-view proved a treat beyond compare. Nadia marveled at the many diverse cultures; each with their own language, and comportment; and all jammed into one, gigantic travel machine. Dakar allowed her to wander unfettered but kept her within seeing distance and remained loosely protective allowing no one direct contact with her. It was frustrating but understandable. If anything happened to her, he explained for the hundredth time, Sherem would terminate him and he had no desire to expire so young. They now occupied a suite of rooms, courtesy of Queen Heptshu of the planet, Jasper. The Zinn galaxy had grown closer in the cycles since the Dargon’s attack on Gattonia. There bloomed new understanding, camaraderie, and trust between the diverse cultures inhabiting the planets in and around their galaxy. The Jasperi, though small of stature, possessed an air of relaxed grace and effortless competence that had been a balm to the Gattonians in the face of the Dargon invasion. Jasper was a pivot point to numerous planets and star systems, being on the very edge of their galaxy. All knew it as a planet of peace and pleasure. Pleasure for the mind, the soul, and the body. They were an overtly sensual people with a subtle, nurturing manner and they used their bodies as no other humanoid life form known. They flowed with perpetual grace of motion in speech, thought and manner. There were no sharp expressions of speech, raised voices, or aggressive outbursts; and no clumsy, unplanned movements. It was a part of their ‘state of being’, their philosophy of life practiced from the moment of birth if not before. They were a people of absolute control and coordination, fluidity, and grace in thought and deed. Chaos and conflict, hatred and aggression were totally foreign to their intrinsic discipline. Their non-confrontational philosophy had in the past threatened their existence and was the way an alliance had initially been formed between the peoples of Jasper and Ganz. The warriors of Nefar had come to the defense of the Jasperi on more than a few occasions and deterred more aggressive species from taking advantage of what appeared to be easy pickings of a people and planet. A very well positioned and prosperous planet. Sherem was a hero of the Jasperi and so revered that he’d been awarded a precious gift in the form of Tula, great-granddaughter of the Queen and now known as 'Sherem's Gift'. The gift Nadia had seen gifting Sherem with her mouth. Nadia felt like a child in eye-candy-land. Something new to see, experience or taste bombarded her senses at every turn. She’d spent many markers on diverse 33

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purchases from decadent arrays of exotic foods and spirits to mind-freeing-meditation instruction and massage therapy. She had received multiple invitations to extend the services to include lessons in the Kama Sutra or a mind to body link they called "The Seeding" but, of course, she refused. She would leave those particular teachings to her future mate. The thought of Sherem touching her like the animation advertisements seen on every corner, forced a shudder of awareness. She visited the markets and purchased wondrous offerings of fine arts and gifts for everyone in her family. Even Sherem. A particular house jacket of soft textured quill, a rare material impossible to reproduce artificially, caught her attention. It was the color of black smoke and superbly cut with silver piping that would highlight the thin iridescent gray that outlined the pupils of his black eyes. It would also accentuate his very broad shoulders and tapered waist. After she completed her purchase, she felt selfconscious and a little embarrassed by the intimacy of the gift but did not return it. He was, after all, spending vast amounts of funds and time to assist her and her family. The very least she owed him was a simple gesture of thanks. If she pondered the way it would feel to be the jacket and have leave to caress and mold herself to his torso, well, who would be the wiser? Dakar kept her entertained and behaved overly solicitous, but a growing uneasiness crept its way into her consciousness making her wonder if she might be a pawn in some unpleasant game Dakar precipitated. Where was Sherem? Surely if he knew she’d arrived, he wouldn’t have kept her waiting all this time and in the company of his brother. She was aware of the rivalry between them but not the reason behind it. It was time for some answers; she would not be put off further. Nadia stood, hands on hips, head tilted and eyes narrowed, measuring Dakar as if for the first time. "You said your brother would be waiting to meet us here, but two days have passed and still there is no Sherem. I am beginning to smell a monzu, Dakar. Is there something you would like to confess, I hear it is very beneficial to your inner sanctum of grace," Nadia advised as she crossed her arms below her breasts and tapped her foot in time to her internal rhythm. Dakar's affable expression changed for an instant, revealing a granite-etched coldness that chilled Nadia, as though the temperature had dropped twenty degrees. Then his face cleared and the Dakar she had come to know in the last days resurfaced. Had she imagined that look? 34

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"Nadia, you wound me. Have I not given you your hearts desire and taken you exploring to a far off planet? Have I not kept you safe for my brother? How can you doubt me?" "Actually, I find it quite easy. Why hasn't Sherem requested to speak with me? Does he trust you so far that he would leave me in your company for days? I am not completely cut off from the goings-on around me, I have heard the rumors that all is not well between you and Sherem. You would not use me in some ploy to strike at your brother, would you Dakar?" At Dakar's blank, semi-wounded look, she faltered. He had been most gracious toward her; what exactly was she accusing him of? Had her imagination run away with her once again? She would contact the aunts and the House of Baraden as soon as they returned to the castle, just to be sure. She knew Queen Heptshu's people would be more than happy to assist her. Dakar began pulling and guiding Nadia down a well-traveled food court like some sort of a demented jester, then seated her at a cozy table outside a café. He called out for certain specialty refreshments, and did his best to avoid Nadia's not so subtle accusations.

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Chapter Five

Dakar’s stomach clenched at the coming confession. He had enjoyed himself tremendously in the last week. The warmth and camaraderie he and Nadia shared, made him feel almost whole, again. After he explained all, would she turn on him like everyone else? And, if he dreaded this coming confrontation, the one he was sure to have with his brother at weeks' end intimidated him even more. In truth, he’d given precious little thought to snatching Nadia right from under Sherem's control. But the day before the princess's visit, he and Sherem engaged in yet another round of shouting that, for the first time, preceded from mildly veiled insinuation to blatant accusation, and then turned physical. If not for the six-foot long monster, always at his brothers' side, they might have done real damage to one another. The playful camaraderie always present in their former bouts of rousting vanished. This time it escalated to purposeful injury and Dakar found himself at a loss to curb his anger and frustration at his brothers' lack of trust in him. But what and how much to tell Nadia? He sighed and leveled her with a look that bore no resemblance to his normally non-threatening, affable good humor. "There have been numerous attacks on Sherem's life in the last two cycles." He did not pause at Nadia's gasp of distress but continued on doggedly. "At first the attempts seemed more prankish than deadly, but that changed when the last two attempts almost cost him his life. "Eight moons ago his micro-jet careened into a mountain, with him in it, after someone tampered with the hydraulics. His warrior reflexes saved that day him but he spent long hours in the med-tech unit being knitted back together. The most deadly attack, however, occurred several moons later when he traveled to the northern mountains of Nefar where the Horta reside. It was to be a routine meeting with their chieftain. "Have you heard of these people and their connection to your own lands?" Dakar asked and then cleared his throat and took a pull on his jive. 36

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"Oh, yes, I know of them. They are reputed to be quite child-like and primitive. A law unto themselves. It is my understanding that aside from Macronadin mining, they also assist in the processing of the Assyllis plants we export to you. Your government, in turn, exports the product to approved vendors in the correct proportions. I believe it has been quite a profitable and expedient arrangement." "Yes," he paused as if in pain. "Well, as usual Sherem made the journey on his horse but on the return trip a rogue tribe of Horta ambushed, beat and almost killed him. A massive mythical beast intervened and came to his aide. The animal has not left his side since." "Zazu, Dakar, that does not seem in the least plausible. An animal? A beast? Why would an animal want to save Sherem and why would the Horti wish him harm? He has improved their living conditions immensely. If this is one of your stories, Dakar, I find it in very poor taste. Your brother's life is nothing to jest about; I am disappointed in you," Nadia chided as she studied him for the truth, as if it would shine right through his eyes. It did. No one could fake the anguish stamped clearly on his features. What was happening? "Why wasn't I told about any of this? Does my brother know?" she leaned forward and demanded. Her heart lurched precariously as she contemplated a world without Sherem. "It is being kept under wraps for the most part so I doubt if your brother has been informed. To be honest, my dear, I am not being kept in the loop…for you see, you are looking at the suspected mastermind behind these attempts." Nadia could not credit this latest revelation. Was he demented? Had he just sprung the last rung on his latter? Dakar looked crestfallen and devastated. In addition, he studied her warily, as if he expected her to heap her own accusations onto the rest. She reached over and squeezed his hand before standing and pulling him up with her. "This is not the place for our discussion," she concluded and led him back toward the palace. Since their departure from Gattonia, they had developed a bond of friendship similar to one she shared with Prolinc. She’d practically been raised by him and her brother, and tended to be more at ease with males. And as afternoon passed into evening and Dakar talked on, they became even closer. He confided his feelings of isolation and 37

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censure by those of his family and friends; the suspicious glances that followed him as though at any moment he would sprout horns and hooves and begin spewing acid. He felt angry, confused, and afraid…afraid that whoever was after his brother would succeed, afraid that he would be accused and condemned to die; and lastly terrified for his youngest brother, his father, and his province for the upheaval it would cause. He felt immersed in a black pit. After a sleepless night Nadia contacted her aunts to reassure them of her safety and whereabouts, then requested a patch to the Portender. She was informed of his eminent arrival on the landing grid of Jasper and on his way to her. When her panel buzzed immediately afterward, she expected Sherem. She was surprised and a little panicked to see Dakar. "He's on his way, Dakar, and liable to be just the slightest bit put out with you and your little joke. So try to be a little conciliatory and less defensive, and maybe just a little scarcer, until I can speak with him and get this all sorted out. "It won't work, these days my brother trusts no one but the mangy beast glued to his side. Every time I get near Sherem, he growls." "Which one, the beast, or your brother?" Nadia asked innocently, hoping for a little levity to defuse the incredible tension mounting in Dakar. "Come Dakar; be easy, I'm sure that deep inside your brother realizes you could never set out to harm him. Just give him some time to work everything out in his mind. You know it occurs to me, that if you have been pulling these kinds of pranks since your return; you are partly responsible for the soup you find yourself in today. If you had talked to him, explained, I'm sure…" She felt a stirring of air and the hair at the back of her neck rose. A sure indication Sherem had arrived. Nadia caught his particular scent and found it difficult to remain still, especially since she was still raw over learning how close she had come to losing him—could still lose him. He brushed past her without giving her a second look, barked out "Guard" to the beast that had materialized before her, and “Stay” to Nadia herself, before continuing across the room toward Dakar. Nadia faced his retreating back, and silently mimicked “Guard” and “Stay” while rolling her eyes, hands on hips. So much for her welcome, he’d not even given her a glancing acknowledgement as he passed. 38

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Bran focused on the female with a silent promise that clearly warned her not to budge, then glanced at the bludgeoning scene taking place across the room. “It is quite unnecessary to spout one word commands, Sherem, for though I lack the vocal apparatus to speak your tongue, I have become quite fluent as to the nuances and meanings behind your language,” Bran informed Sherem in mind-speak. “Further, I do not enjoy being ordered about in words of one syllable and neither, it appears, does your mate.” Sherem paused to congratulate him on his newly mastered articulations before catching a punishing fist in his face for his inattentiveness. “Oomph,” he emitted before toppling like a blown-over obelisk. Dakar studied his fist in bewilderment. Nadia decided the floor was probably the safest place for her warrior, for the moment, and concentrated on the beast. At least three times her weight, and his head on a level with her chest, he was quite the most prodigious creature she’d ever seen. She absently noted that sitting as he was now he would probably be eye level with her sisterin-law who could not be more than five feet and scant inches. She squatted in front of him letting his height top hers and inquired. “And what words of welcome have you for me, my majestic beast, since your master seems to be rendered speechless for once? I know who you are, you know. Dakar has spoken of you. He is very grateful to you for saving his brother." He remained impassive except for a warning growl when she made a move toward the brothers. An alternate tact was in order, she decided. "You are such a brave, handsome fellow; I bet you could use a little attention. Your friend is not much for praise or appreciation which I am sure you have noted." She began to scratch behind his ears and continued her patter of praise and petting. Bran grew distinctly uncomfortable. Never had he failed to put the fear of death into humans, why was this one speaking to him as if he were a small cub yet to come into his fangs? He roared telepathically to Sherem for assistance and startled him awake as if he had been shot from a cannon. After eyeing his brother grudgingly, Sherem turned his attention to the distressed ankou and his future mate. Why wasn't she cowering in a corner or crying to him for assistance? He approached the two with a telling look of disgust. "Leave off him, misulu; he is a killing beast, not some pet to be cooed over. You are embarrassing him. If you want to give your attention to someone then attend me," he growled and grabbed her arm, yanked her to him and proceeded to squeeze the air out of her. She wanted to tell him that she much preferred being greeted first, instead of last, 39

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but she was being simultaneously squished and soaked by a combination of his sweat and banded steel arms. She didn't truly mind, as long as she didn't lose consciousness by the death grip he held her in. Sherem shook with the pent-up anxiety he’d been holding inside since the discovery of Nadia’s kidnapping. He knew he held her too tightly but couldn't seem to stop, and there were things he must learn. He checked the base of her gently sloping neck, relieved to see no mating mark. It made her his for the taking and he relaxed his hold marginally. "Did he harm you, misulu, did he frighten you?" Sherem demanded gruffly. He saw the combination of anger and frustration that crossed Dakar’s face before he stormed from the room and laid in a command for Bran to follow his movements. "No. He was perfectly charming," she grumbled into his chest, "more charming than you, certainly." "We will discuss later why you did not contact me immediately to let me know of your location and safety, but first things first." He stepped away from her, grabbed her left hand, and slapped a band on to her wrist. It immediately molded itself flush against her skin. Sherem could tell she recognized it for what it was. Her sister-in-law had one similar to it. He noted her mounting distress and the effort she exerted to temper her unfolding destiny, like a flower blooming at the will of the sun. The first stirrings of her changed circumstance, the knowledge that she was ensnared. The powerful tracking band guaranteed he would always know her location…it also served as a band of possession. "I know what this is, Sherem, and there is no need for it. I am here, I am safe, and I am prepared to depart with you whenever you are ready. I would have contacted you sooner but Dakar said he stayed in daily contact with you and that you were detained with the last minute details of our journey. I did not learn the truth until last night. You are over reacting, Sherem, your brother loves you and you are doing him a disservice by withholding your trust," Nadia alleged while trying to loose the band from her wrist. "And what of the disservice he has done me, female? He stole what belonged to me." He gently wrapped his giant hand around her wrist to halt her attempts to dislodge it. "Oh, and what was that? Not a ship because we arrived by public transport, and not your clothing because yours are too large and muted for your exuberant brother. So 40

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unless he stole the house jewels, he took absolutely nothing that belonged to you except possibly your over-inflated ego. Now get this band off of me!" Nadia insisted as she wiggled her wrist ineffectively with a mutinous set to her chin. He wanted to laugh at her blustery attempts to wound him, noticing all at once her changed appearance. She seemed more radiantly alive than he had yet to see her. Her hair cut and styled to emphasize her eyes now shown like Amber beacons, vividly infused with her adventures of the past week. They fairly sparked and winked at him. He was also drawn to the plains of her face. Her high cheekbones had shed all traces of baby fat revealing the beguiling plains of a sculpted goddess. Was his brother responsible for the glow radiating from her? "He stole my piece of mind and my sanity when I realized you were missing. You look well, Nadia. Have I my brother to thank?" His eyes pierced hers with the inhuman glow of a feral demon set on his prey. Nadia ignored the warning evident in his quiet inquiry. He was finally with her and they would soon be on their way to save her brother and family. As stimulating as she found her adventures on Jasper, she grew impatient to be on their way to earth and the Miramid. But first she needed to further the cause of Dakar, convince Sherem of his loyalty and goodness, and extol upon the great care he had taken of her. "Yes, you do as a matter of fact,” she assured him. He took me to a Temple Fluerevitae and paid for a complete treatment. I'm sure you are aware that 'Fluerevitae' is practiced here. I have been unable to determine if it is an actual religion, a philosophy, or just a way of living, but the temples cater to every part of a person. It was wholly decadent." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, revealing a slight mysterious smile. Her expression artlessly, achingly sensual turned his to stone. Sherem was definitely going to kill his brother. What had he been thinking to take her to a place like that? Most temples were no more than glorified houses of pleasure where sexual favors of all kinds were pursued. And he was familiar with almost all of them. It was where he and Rosik had first met and shared the many available pleasures together. At one time, they shared three females for a full session lasting five hours. It had been erotic and satisfying but he still preferred his sexual dealings one on one. His attention focused again on Nadia as he continued to listen for anything amiss. So far, her little adventure seemed harmless enough. She prattled on about her hair; nails, face and body paint and but then she mentioned body massage. 41

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"Where did they touch you?" he demanded, interrupting her so suddenly she paused to examine his now ferocious demeanor. “Touch me? Why is your face turning red? Sherem, surely you have heard of a massage. They knead your muscles and pressure points allowing your body to breathe and relax.” "Where…did…they…knead...you…misulu?" he asked with equal softness. "Oh, all right!" she spat. "They kneaded my arms, my neck, my shoulders and back, my legs and then the most exquisite place of all," she paused with a small moan. He would torture his brother for weeks. He could see him now. Hung…upside down by his feet. "My feet," Nadia said at the precise moment his mind was picturing Dakar's, so that he did not quite grasp her message. "Feet?" "Yes, it was positively sinful. Surely, you have been to these houses and cared for by their staff. If you have not, I insist on taking you myself before we depart here. It will lift your mood, invigorate your organs, and pleasure your soul. Actually, I think you could benefit from their services right this moment. I will take you to the establishment I attended…" "Nadia, I have been to the temples many times and while I found their administrations to be quite comprehensive, I would now rather my needs be taken care of by you." Sherem took a step closer to Nadia, his eyes glowing like hot molten lava, pouring into her, heating her from the inside out. Nadia cleared her throat and stated what she considered to be the obvious. "I don't know, Sherem, those professionals train for years to acquire their expertise. I don't think I could be nearly as effective," she gulped. A fire seemed to ignite within the lava. "I am sure it will come to you," he assured her as he closed the distance between them then cradled her face in his massive hands preparing her for his kiss. "Sherem," she yelped nervously. “We must first discuss your brother. You need to listen to him. He is not the one trying to harm you." Sherem grunted his disbelief. “You must think logically and not as a barbarian for once, someone is trying to kill you and you are letting your testosterone and groundless assumptions get the better of you, it’s silly.” 42

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“You are a naïve female spouting nonsense you know naught about and if there is one who is silly in this room it is not me.” “Oh, you can be so pig-headed," she groaned. "Now I am pig-headed. Now I am silly," he said with deadly calm. "You never have said these words to me before. Look to yourself, female and tell me who is the one not thinking logically.” His mouth crashed down onto hers, roughly parting her lips mercilessly plundering the depths of her moist cavity. Nadia, caught wholly unaware, could only buffet the heady waves of their combined passion. Only once before had he taken her so—their very first kiss had been a taking, a possession—before he had discovered she was Zorroc’s sister. Since then, he had been tentative and careful as if she were spun glass. Those days, it seemed were at an end. The barbarian had returned in full force. As quickly as the branding had begun, it ceased, and when Nadia opened her leaden eyelids, he’d vanished. He was right, of course; only someone with a death wish would call a Nefari warrior silly and pigheaded. As Sherem flew down the hallway, Bran fell soundlessly into step having left Dakar in his chambers. Though he had only observed his friend with his future mate on two occasions, the human rituals of securing a mate stunned him. Bran was in his first years, a pup, and he pondered the misery, frustration, and self-recriminations that flooded Sherem’s mind with his every encounter of Nadia. He had witnessed him take on thirty Horta with less exertion, why put himself to such torture? He was a warrior; why not just take her? “Sherem, why do you waste time with this one, you should find another who is less trouble,” Bran advised. “I would if I could, believe me Bran.” Sherem paused, gathering his thoughts in an effort to explain. He could read the ankou’s concern and protective instincts rising to the fore and didn’t want Bran seeking to rid Sherem of his frustrations by eating his intended. “To the Nefar, the quest for our other half, our misulu, is a most important undertaking for if we do not find her in this carnation, we must content ourselves by other means. The begetting of heirs from multiple mates with superior bloodlines. No matter how inviting that prospect may seem, it makes for a lonely existence. When we find our eternity match, she fills a chasm in our soul and in our heart that no other can fill. Nadia is my blood, the voice in my head, and the missing piece that completes me. There is 43

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room for no other; therefore, I do what I must to win her. I find the alternative unthinkable. Someday, when you meet a female that fires your blood you will understand but until that day, know that protecting my mate is more imperative than my own, for I am not sure I could live without her.” “Very well, I will not eat her.” The comment was followed by much canine snickering; Bran finally found a use for human humor. The horrified look on his friend’s face was its own reward.

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Chapter Six

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with our council. We are quite at our wits' end with this situation and instead of leveling off or improving; it grows faster and deadlier by the hour. Two hundred deaths from overdose were caused by this new drug last week alone. It must stop, 'Jasper's Hero', it must stop," Horrus pleaded urgently while bowing repeatedly in fluid subservience that Sherem found obnoxious and unnecessary. Bowing and scraping could not be appropriate behavior for a counselor to the Queen but Horrus had ever been thus when in his company. Sherem didn't know if it was because of the way he towered over most of the Jasperi or if it was just Horrus's nature. Either way he found the gnat hard to tolerate. "Oh, put a stopper in it Horrus and don't speak again until you're spoken to!" Queen Heptshu barked as she entered the meeting room flanked with more bobbing, bowing counselors and retainers. Sherem thought he heard her mumble under her breath, "Surrounded by a bunch of lily-livered wimps, is what I am." It was one of the things he liked most about this tiny irascible tyrant; she came across as the polar opposite in demeanor and speech to the devotees of Fluerevitae though it was purported that she created the ‘path of life’. The Queen had 'requested' Sherems presence to discuss a new threat to the people of Jasper and their visiting guests. "Not going to beat around the bush, Remy, we’ve got a deteriorating situation here and could use your special brand of assistance," she began to explain. “A drug is being smuggled onto the planet called 'Angel's Gate'. A combination aphrodisiac, hallucinogen, and amphetamine; it addicts instantly with lethal consequences. From the first dose, the drug begins to build up in the user's system. Ninety percent is actively absorbed while the body stores the other ten percent. The more the drug is ingested, the more the body stores until overdose—most times lethal.” 45

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The Queen continued with mortality figures and the steps Jasper had taken to halt importation, all with failed results. It was chilling. Sherem would rather face an army of Dargons than this invisible stealer of souls. The problem was clear but not his role. They were warriors not drug enforcers. Sherem ran his fingers through his hair while debating a reply. Queen Heptshu, understanding his quandary, superceded him. “Though we consider this to be one of the hardest wars we have faced, I do realize it is not the job of Nefar to enforce our internal laws. We seek your help for quite another reason, my friend. "When our scientists broke down the drug, one ingredient was particularly familiar to us—Assyllis," she finished pointedly. "You are sure? There can be no mistake?" Sherem asked leaning forward over the table. "We are sure. We may not have the hotsy-totsy scientists they sprout in Gattonia but we can certainly recognize Assyllis when we see it. Many of the properties are not known to us and of course we can't be certain how it's processed but Assyllis is a prime proponent and easy to distinguish. We know that Nefar processes ninety-five percent of all Assyllis exported and so we concluded that whoever is manufacturing this killing tool is purchasing it from you." She stopped to let Sherem assimilate what she had divulged so far. She and her council had been dealing with this problem for close to a year weighing the possible fallout and pondering future options. Sherem had been given an hour. "There’s a saying I'm sure is familiar to you; follow the credits,” Sherem mused. "I believe in this case, we will follow the Assyllis. I will go back in our records these last moons and track the quantities being distributed to each vendor and look for increases or accelerated frequency of orders; anything suspicious. In addition, I will contact the High Council of Gattonia and make them aware of the problem. I’m sure their hotsy-totsy scientists will be interested." Sherem strove to hide his amusement but a slight quirk appeared at the corner of his mouth, exposing his dimple. "Do you have some of this poison I can take back with me and turn over to the Bio-chemistry Consortium located in Gattonia? They should be able to break it down further and give us a clearer picture of what we are dealing with in addition to learning the remaining components that may point to the possible manufacturers." 46

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"Of course, and thank you for the assistance, it was more than we had hoped for," the Queen offered sincerely before closing the meeting and excusing her council leaving the two leaders alone. "Headi," he mused, employing the nickname only used when they were alone. "I would like two vials; one containing the drug and another containing a placebo. The placebo I will entrust to our Med-tech center held in a secure location, while the other I will keep with me, hidden. I will take no chances and unless our ship is destroyed, I will see it personally delivered into the hands of the scientists. My only regret is that I cannot depart immediately. My first obligation lies with the Gattonian princess. I do thank you for your trust in this matter," Sherem concluded, bowing in the formal manner of the Jasperi. "Don't get polite on me now, Remy. I want to discuss some additional facts you need to be aware of and then I have a surprise for you and your crew before you depart our planet."

*** "You will not attend in that, that garb," Sherem stated forcefully. "Your entire crew will be attending the masque and though Jasper is known for their costume balls, the costume selection is not limitless; plus I am quite a bit taller than the people here, a veritable giant, if you will. This is all they had in my size." "It is the garb of a pleasurer." "It is just a costume." "You will not go as my…my inamorata. I will not have it." "Oh, that's right, you all ready have one. We’ve met." "You have not met, you glimpsed her, and if you had not…" "Glimpsed! I got an eye full—two eyes. Now get out; I will attend alone!" "You will not go alone; you will attend with your mate." "I do not have a mate, you do not have a mate; all you have is a pleasurer. Too bad she did not accompany you on your ship as I am sure she makes a much better pleasurer than I." Sherem flinched inwardly because Tula had accompanied him to Jasper. She had stowed aboard the Portender and when discovered, swore she wanted no trouble for him, but only to see her matriarch, the Queen. What was Sherem to reply? When he thought about it, he concluded it would be a good way to return her to her people. Two females 47

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in the same House would likely escalate into a war zone; his future mate did not seem the type to share. In the end, Nadia might use it as a way to deny his suit. Yes, tomorrow would see the parting of Sherem from his ‘gift’. He focused his attention back on his impending mate and studied the “costume” in more detail. The outer layer was a sheer sarong that caught at one shoulder and floated downward to bare feet adorned with jewels on each toe. The under layer, Zazu, he was breaking into a sweat—the under layer, too, gathered at one shoulder and was sheer, sheer enough to delineate her areolas and ended just below her breasts. From there hung a wall of intricately beaded strings from every color of the rainbow, always in motion, making gentle music as they brushed against each other. And when she moved toward him, the beads played peek-a-boo with her body exposing portions of her ribs, abdomen, hips, legs and…everything! He would not be able to keep his hands off her. At any given moment he would lose his last bead of sanity, throw her down and use those strings for the purpose they were intended. He could not let her out of his sight…what was he thinking…out of the room, he meant, and unleash her onto the masque. He hopelessly raised his eyes to hers and tried to follow the jist of what she was telling him. "…If we were on Gattonia," she explained, "or one of our mother ships, I could just conjure something appropriate, but your ship is void of the merest convenience and here they have only pre-made clothing from natural fiber." "The Portender was built for combat not luxury,” he bristled. No one insulted his ship. “Could you not wear something underneath to cover you from roaming eyes?" Like his? "It would ruin the line of the dress and no longer be what it is," she pointed out logically. He was a dead male. She won in the end. He would just cover her body with his to prevent her from being viewed. He groaned. It would be a very long evening. Nadia watched Sherem stride purposely across the entertainment hall, eating up the distance between himself and the royal party he’d been summoned to attend. His catlike gait exposed the rippling muscles of his thighs. She stared, mesmerized. He had worn the jacket she purchased for him and looked more panther than Nefari. His black mane flowed half way down his back, a perfect match for the black material stretched across his broad shoulders. The silver piping in the coat emphasized the ring around his 48

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pupils. Without that faint ring, his feline-shaped eyes would look almost demonic with no relief between the black of his pupil and that of his iris. The first time he focused those eyes on her she had felt hypnotized, as a snake would freeze its prey. The feeling had not abated in the three cycles she’d known him. His beard accented the firm set of his mouth, the taut plains of his chiseled cheekbones and sharp almost hawk-like nose. The scar on his forehead that dissected his left eyebrow and disappeared into his hairline, made him look even more lethal. His features were hard and uncompromising like the rest of him. Her beads shimmered in reaction. The masque proved a glittering affair. A couple hundred of the Portender's crew attended, clearly delighting in the evening’s festivities. Sheer rainbows of silk draped ceiling and walls, creating a dreamy wonderland effect in the massive hall. It was magical evening. Sherem stayed by her side and was stingy with his introductions. She felt like a coveted toy that he had no intention of sharing. He’d refused to dance with her or let anyone dance with her and she suspected he would prefer she stand statue still as to not jiggle her beaded streams. But he fed her an array of delicacies and catered to all other requests. Dakar came to stand beside her, looking quite imposing in a long flowing, midnight colored robe complete with hood, which hid his features and hair completely. "How are you faring, Dakar?" Nadia murmured. "Better than expected, I delivered more than I sustained this round. A feat that continues to baffle me actually. Perhaps he is beginning to question the theories ricocheting about the House of Baraden. Of course, he hasn't looked at or spoken to me either. “That outfit makes you absolutely glow,” Dakar commented, a twinkle surfacing in his eyes. “I am sure it probably caught my brother's attention quite neatly." "It did. He hated it!" "Surely, he did not say so." "He demanded I take it off." "Not at all the same thing, I should think." Dakar hid his guffaw behind a cough. "Males! Try to elevate your thoughts north of your waist, if you please," she quipped while studying the movements of their hosts. “Have you noticed how the Jasperi don’t seem to walk so much as float? It’s almost spooky. Most of the females are attired similarly to me but their beaded strands never seem to separate but flow like a gentle 49

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waterfall around them. How do they do it? I’ve been trying to emulate the way they move all evening but my bead-streams seem to jerk apart with even the smallest breath. I’m concerned that your brother may have noticed,” she finished distractedly. Dakar, dead sure his brother had noticed, pursed his lips firmly shut to prevent the laugh threatening to burst forth like repeating rounds of ammunition. Nadia’s attention suddenly fastened across the hall and Dakar followed her gaze to the female talking with his brother. Zazu, it couldn't be. Sherem could not be that brainless. The female kneeled at Sherem's feet, holding fast to his calves and speaking quickly, obviously begging for something. The female was Tula and his brother— forever without his mate judging from the haunted look on Nadia’s face. She swayed beside him and he grabbed hold of her waist to steady her. Sherem moved to conceal Tula’s identity from Nadia while curtly dealing with his former pleasurer. "You cannot accompany me to earth, little one, the journey will be long, and my mate on board with me. Nadia would be more than displeased by your presence and I will not be the cause of her upset." He already had one person intent on his demise; he did not need his mate bent on it as well. Tula caused the scene on purpose, he knew, for if her grandmother and the other royals witnessed him rejecting her, they would lose face. It would be considered a blatant insult. He had best get both of them out of there fast before it evolved into an intergalactic incident. His face, an unreadable mask, whisked Tula to her feet and away from the hall. No other explanation fit; he was born to humiliate her. Nadia was sure of it, as she tried to keep the shock from showing in her expression and body language. She had once again begun to think of him in terms of her mate. Had been daydreaming more and more frequently since her request for assistance. She was a fool, a dolt but he; he personified the lowest form of belly slime crawler! A monzu, a Syphor, a spawn! Fortunately, she found out before the lifemating instead of being stuck with the foul error for the rest of her life. She would use him to save her brother, but roll over in her grave before allowing him to leg-shackle her. When she was able to focus her mind outward, the first thing she registered was the look of concern on Dakar's face. He had relegated his hood to its resting-place down his back. She was grateful for his presence and his friendship. She would be sorely in need of both in the moons to come.

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"Dakar, it's not as bad as all that." Her beads vibrated in a parody of her emotions, putting a lie to her words. "Would you see me to my chambers? I am quite fatigued." She turned and quit the room.

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Chapter Seven

Ensconced in his allotted suite of rooms, having shed himself of Tula, at least for the moment, Sherem pondered which situation needed addressing first. He had to convince the Queen to take back her great-granddaughter—permanently. He needed a course of action to investigate the drug responsible for killing so many and discover the mastermind behind it, while absent from his home for the next few moons. He must stay alive and catch his assassin. Finally, he must discern how to locate Nadia’s brother and tether said sister to his side for all time. His role as a warrior and leader held far fewer complications than the ones to which he now aspired. Lifemate to Nadia, detective in charge of missing persons and drug-trafficing, and trapping his would be murderer. Normally, he would have delegated the investigation of drug trafficking to his brother, Dakar, who had trained his entire life to such a role. But alas, until he unmasked the assassin, the less Dakar knew of his business, the safer for all concerned. Did Sherem truly believe his brother capable of such treachery? No—which made it all the more plausible. He sighed and activated the COM unit in front of him deciding Angels Gate the most expedient beginning. After the final confrontation with the Dargons three cycles past, which freed the Gattonians from sure extinction; Zorroc and the High Council of Gattonia rewarded Nefar with the processing and distribution of Assyllis. This proved a powerful boon to the economy of Nefar and solidified Sherem’s popularity and justification toward his eventual assent to the throne of Nefar. Ironically, “Sherem’s Gift” also referred to this new venture for it was seen as his gift to the people of Nefar. It allowed older soldiers to retire with their lives and mates while still maintaining a decent income and remaining a contributing part of society. It also gave a safer avenue toward self-sufficiency for those less adept at combat. The later category fit Gannet, an old friend and classmate of Sherem’s. So it led, that he assigned Gannet the role of organizing and implementing the massive effort. He’d excelled admirably; thus his title of Procurement Minister. 52

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“I wish you would decease with the title, Gannet, I fail to see why you should show customary respect at this late date,” Sherem pointed out after reaching his friend, a grin apparent in his message. “One never knows when all this power might go to your head, my Prince. I am only erring on the side of caution,” Gannet replied in kind. “I am sure when that time arrives, you will take great glee in correcting the misconception of my superiority. “I need your help,” Sherem said quietly, his voice losing all humor. “And it is not a pretty story.” He explained the situation, confident that Gannet could deduce the ramifications for himself and their people. “Angels Gate must close, Remy, I understand and will begin inquiries immediately. It could be very bad for Nefar if the situation continued, though I am confident our people are innocent of involvement,” Gannet responded. “It indeed would prove an economical disaster to lose all that had been granted to us three short cycles ago.” Sherem almost snorted at the word “short”. They had been interminably long for him. That marked the starting point of his pursuit of Nadia. The one now at an end. “Thank you, Gannet.” Sherem paused, wondering if anything further could be set into motion, then grinned. “Contact my Uncle Kindarak. With his non-stop travels, he may have heard of this Angels Gate and provide us with valuable information as to the faction responsible. COM end.” Sherem terminated transmission and pressed visual on Nadia’s chambers. It was empty. He checked Dakar’s to find it empty, as well. Surely, the masque had ended some time ago. Where was she and worse, had she witnessed the scene with Tula? He cursed and activated the tracking device on Nadia’s new bracelet. She had fled castle grounds. "What have you learned, Bran Beast?" Sherem asked distractedly, studying the screen, following the progress and direction of his constantly-missing-but-soon-to-bemate. Nadia had, no doubt, witnessed the earlier scene and sought to find a place of solitude. Not surprising considering the display Tula had orchestrated in an effort to persuade him to take her along when they departed in the morning. Her desire to remain with him in the face of his patent rejection baffled him. She seemed to be little concerned 53

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with the turn of events and yet insisted on making the journey with him. There had never been any true intimacy between them. Merely a pleasant, but rather polite acquaintance. She did what he asked in an efficient if not overly enthusiastic manner, then pursued other activities. It made no sense that she would not like to return to her life and family where her time would once again be her own. Surely, she desired a mate and offspring. And how to explain her presence to Nadia? "It is over between the pleasurer and me but she will continue to travel with us." Nadia would have his head severed from his body and serve it to him—diced. And could he blame her? If their roles were reversed, he would toss the pleasurer into deep space then slap a chastity belt on his mate. “Your brother and your female did not go quietly, they put up quite a struggle,” Bran mind-spoke while jumping onto the platmat to settle in for a nap. "How can you be sure?" Sherem’s pulse leapt to his throat and he turned from the screen to study his friend. The ankou, though lacking the vocal cords to speak his language, could now think it with more flair and articulation than Sherem. A situation affording Bran a vast amount of amusement. “I located the place they were accosted, scenting your brother's blood and energy, even though two of the takers took care to remove the evidence.” "Will you be able to identify their scent when next you come across them?" he asked. The ankou raised a bushy eyebrow. “Of course. I followed it to a Star Hopper. I would guess they plan to make away soon. When do we depart?” "Immediately. I will order the crew to report to their stations. We can be airborne within the hour. I’ll notify the Jasperi of our departure and have them place the escaping vessel on detect. Both of us will monitor any attempted communication. It will not be difficult to overtake their transport, and may provide us with the answers to a number of other questions, in the bargain. You ready?" They would depart immediately while Nadia remained within tracking distance, and surprise those who had taken them. Sherem had no intention of allowing them to galaxy jump to an untraceable location. So much for his nap, Bran thought, as he stretched, and pounced soundlessly from the mat to Sherem's side. As the two headed purposely toward the Portender, Bran asked if Sherem had any ideas as to why the Princess and his brother had been taken. “My only guess is they believe, that with the strained relations existing between my brother and me and the fact that he brought Nadia to Jasper without my knowledge 54

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previously, I will conclude he has absconded with her once again. They probably assume that I will be in such a rage, my brother will kill me to defend himself, or I will kill him. Either way they would win. With the frame on my brother complete, he would be incarcerated or dead—or I would be. The murder of a prince demands such a sentence no matter the extenuating circumstances. Most perplexing though, is who and why.” Sherem posed in mind-speak. No one knew of the bond of understanding between the ankou and himself, and they’d agreed to keep it that way. “What could the unknown party hope to achieve in creating instability and chaos within Nefar and beyond? Who would gain by discrediting the House of Baraden?” Sherem mused. “Someone who would like the Assyllis trade for themselves, I would venture,” the ankou replied logically. Sherem’s mind shot back to a long ago conversation he’d had while playing cards and imbibing too much jive…and how Nadia had played into the mix. She had evaded him that evening in his own home, causing him to drown his frustration in liquor and cards. He fought to recall his exact words. Had he intimated that the trade of Assyllis somehow was linked to Nadia’s favor? Surely not… He felt the blood freeze in his veins. Though publicly the other provinces approved of Nefar taking over the processing and distribution of Assyllis, there remained an undercurrent of jealousy and greed just below the surface. The purveyors of the Assyllis held untold power and wealth and if Assyllis were indeed a key ingredient of Angels Gate, the illegal trade of the flower would increase the value one hundred fold. A very powerful motive for murder or assassination and well worth the risk. “You may have solved the question of why someone would want me dead and my brother blamed. The Assyllis. It is a better theory than we have yet to come up with.” Cold sick dread settled in him as he broke into a dead run for his ship, knowing he could be to blame for giving them the idea. The timing was about right. The attempts on his life had begun not long after the Queen noticed the presence of Angels Gate on Jasper. It all began to make sense. Sherem constantly marveled at the laws of reasoning, be they deductive, analytic, discursive, or epistemological. They all carried interlocking components toward one end. Divining the truth. Random occurrences were often connected if one deduced the underlying relationships. He’d been locked in a personal battle between trust and betrayal, unable to detect the logical pattern of incidents to 55

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purpose but suddenly his mind was free and working furiously. Someone had put into motion an elaborate scheme in which a key part relied on his disposal and possibly his brother’s while leaving Nadia free. All without casting shadows on the real objective or persons involved. Sherem shook his head in doubt. Surely a mastermind intelligent enough to formulate so complex a plan would not have swallowed the lame excuse he had given for wanting Nadia. He’d have to be deranged to believe the two were linked. Everyone knew the Assyllis trade occurred as a direct result of Nefar’s service to Gattonia and had no bearing on Nadia. Still it was the best hypothesis they had and must be acted upon. Once again, he thanked whatever forces responsible for bringing Bran into the pattern of his life. And if they had not traveled to Jasper, it might have been moons before he connected the Assyllis with the attempts on his life—and too late. He expelled an imaginary breath and felt lighter with each step. His brother was in fact being set up, and not an assassin. Thinking in those terms made him ashamed he ever doubted him.

*** “I have been contacted by the Prince and asked to trace the distributed amounts of Assyllis to our buyers. He wants to know if any parties have increased allotments, and who those parties might be. He has put Assyllis together with the manufacture of Angels Gate. The old witch must have given him an earful as he chased after his brother and the albino bitch,” the stooped Nefari stated into the COM unit. “He would have discovered the connection sooner or later; he’s not completely devoid of brains. As long as he does not tie it to the attempts on his life, we are safe. Fortunately, with the help of Dakar himself, he will be too focused on retrieving the princess once again to consider much else. We can always hope they kill one another this time. Sherem must have reached the end of all reason with her taken from him twice in as many weeks.” The dark one snickered at the way everything had fallen into place. He drew one step closer to the final prize; he would have his vengeance and more.

*** Nadia regained consciousness and took note of her surroundings, or would have if she had been able to see anything. She rose to all fours, the beads in her costume scrunching uncomfortably into her knees, and crawled to her left hoping to find a wall, a piece of furniture or anything to tell her where she might be. She bumped into a log; it 56

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groaned. It turned into a leg as she began to trace it with her fingers gingerly poking and touching as she went. “Another few inches, Princess, and you will come across an appendage that will be very happy to make your acquaintance,” Dakar whispered lightly. Nadia snapped her hand back as if burned. “Dakar, why didn’t you identify yourself, you monzu, and where are we?” she whispered back, privately relieved she was not alone, and not alone with the dead or unconscious body of her friend. “I came-to with your touch, which began as a very pleasant dream. As to where we are, I would say we have been kidnapped. Do you remember being set upon?” he asked. “Of course I remember being attacked, I was sure they had killed you,” her voice betrayed the effect the violence had had on her. She had never before seen someone beaten so brutally. The short scuffle with his brother ranked as harmless play compared to it. “Are you alright, Dakar? Is anything broken?” Dakar tried to chuckle but groaned again instead. He felt like he’d been put through a meat grinder backwards. He needed a Med-Tech Unit in the worst way but doubted their captures would see it that way. Why had they been kidnapped? “Everything, I believe.” “Who would do something like this; surely they do not think they can possibly succeed. But worse than that; what will your brother think?” She worried her bottom lip, more afraid of Sherem’s reaction than the threat posed by their situation. A soft thrumming began to sound. “Zazu’s hammer, we are on a ship,” Dakar whispered. “Nadia, give me your hands.” “Do you want to get up, Dakar? Somehow I don’t think your body will thank you.” “Just do it, Nia.” As she reached for him, he grabbed her wrists and let out a relieved sigh. The tracking band remained on her wrist. Most likely, their captors had no notion it was there. Sherem would track them making their captivity fleeting. Nadia too realized the ramifications of the band and relaxed. A silent whoosh and blinding light told them they were about to meet the kidnappers and survey their surroundings. It was some sort of a storage compartment with no seating, tables or amenities of any kind. One of the males walked in and kicked 57

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Dakar in the ribs and though his face showed a growing sheen and paleness he made no sound. “Get up, royalty; we have plans to put into motion. There is little time.” Dakar remained motionless. “Sorry scarubs, I go nowhere without the Princess.” He was rewarded with another kick and then brought to his feet roughly by two of the males. “Make no mistake, Prince.” The leader sneered his title. “Your wishes mean less than nothing to us, but defy ours and the Princess will pay the price for your reticence. Gorrick enjoys his work; he is a skin-carver, and one of the best. Fail to do as we request and I promise you will not recognize the Princess when next you see her. Got it?” Flat face flashed a toothless grin. Dakar paled under his all ready pasty complexion, but said nothing further as he was led away by two burly goons. Flat face turned back to Nadia. “Disrobe Princess,” he commanded, “or I will do it for you. Actually, you may not want to co-operate, it would probably be your first taste of a real male’s hands on you.” He inched toward her. “You’d probably like it.” He grunted, showing off a toothless grin. “Might even begin to melt the ice in your veins.” “Touch me cavern mouth and you will not survive the day, not that there is much chance of that anyway,” Nadia commented while climbing to her feet with a nonchalance she did not feel. Actually she was fairly certain they would not kill her but there were many fates just as devastating if not as permanent. She refused to cower, however, like some helpless creature in a cage. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, frantically weighing her options. They were not in abundance. He was on her in an instant and before she could react, the upper layers of her costume were ripped neck to hem leaving her waist and above fully revealed. She felt sick and backed up against the wall, putting as much distance as possible between them. He hissed like the snake he resembled and started toward her. This time she reacted with a well-placed kick to the groin but instead of neutralizing him, if only for a moment, it enraged him. He backhanded her so hard her head hit the adjacent wall with a sickening thud and everything went black. When he started for her again, he was grabbed by two of his shipmates. “What are you doing you fool, if you kill her we all die! If not by Sherem then her brother or worst of all, our leader. You’ve seen his temper; you’ve seen what he can do. We may already be doomed, Gorrick.” He knew he was babbling but couldn’t stop. 58

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Bager wished he’d never gotten involved with these low-lifes. There was little chance he would survive it. For once, his mate had been right. She had warned him to take a pass and walk away but the credits had been a lure that he’d been unable to forego. Now it would mean his death. He approached the broken female and gingerly felt for a pulse. She still breathed. He injected a dose of the zombie drug then carefully lifted her and carried her to the sleeping chamber. Nadia awakened to a worse nightmare than she could envision. Four of them stood over her, their appendages exposed and pointed in her direction. Was this some kind of satanic ritual? They were touching themselves, rubbing their erections and occasionally grunting and then it began; one by one, they began squirting a cloudy substance all over her. It was pungent and repulsive. She wanted to be retch but was afraid she would drown in her own vomit. She could not move her limbs or her mouth but she could see and feel and was aware of everything happening around her. She was utterly helpless, what had they given her? She realized at that moment that she lay on a mat entwined with a male body as still as her own. They had been posed together. She prayed to be sucked out a portal into open space rather than face what she knew followed. She did not have long to wait. They entered silently but the air in the chamber immediately changed. It seemed charged with rage, fury, and a myriad of other emotions she could not pinpoint but were as equally in evidence. There were no rantings of betrayal or accusations, no words at all. She couldn’t tell who had entered; only that Sherem was among them. She could pick out his scent even through the stench of sex clinging to the room and her skin. Were there others gawking at them, stunned into disgust? The air moved once more and Sherem appeared before her. She was so humiliated that a lone tear found its way past her lashes and onto her cheekbone, making a path to her mouth. Sherem bent down and gently kissed it away. He covered her to her chin with his cloak then lifted her high and tightly to his chest issuing quiet orders to get Dakar aboard his ship and into an MTU. Nadia closed her eyes. They were saved but at what cost? She would never be able to face Sherem again.

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Chapter Eight

Sherem entered his quarters with orders not to be disturbed until called. He lowered Nadia carefully onto his mat and proceeded to shed his clothing matter of factly. He could not remember a time that left him so enraged. Pent up fury made his hands shake. They had beaten her badly. The left half of her face had turned four shades of purple while a lump could be felt on the back of head to the right. Her right shoulder had bruised, as well. The short visit to the Med-unit had removed most of her physical injuries but what of those inside. He wished the mongrels responsible for her injuries were still alive so he could kill them once again. Only one remained alive so they could coax information on who was behind the kidnapping. After he talked, Sherem would deal with him alone. He closed his eyes in an effort to block the emotions he saw roiling in her eyes. She looked like a cornered animal—fear, desperation, and humiliation radiating in waves from her wounded eyes. How could he comfort her? He was horrible in these situations; the inadequacy of words never more pronounced. He wanted to fix her, heal her, protect her from what she experienced and shield her from every hurtful occurrence in the future. He blinked—did he love her? Nadia stared, mesmerized while questions flowed through her mind faster than an angry river. She was thankful her jaw could not move or it would be residing on her chest. His body was a beautiful mystery to behold. His bronze skin glowed, accentuating the hard planes and contours of his body. He was perfection. His male member jutted out at a ninety-degree angle from his muscle-banded abdomen. She noted that his sex measured both longer and thicker than those of her attackers, and wondered why the fact pleased rather than frightened her. Her gaze sought his to determine why he had disrobed in front of her. They were roiling like an obsidian sea radiating fury and heated determination. Would he force his will upon her when she could not speak or retaliate? His black eyes glowed with feral intent but still he did not speak. Instead, he lifted her 60

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once more and carried her into the clean room lowering them both into the swirling waters of a giant bathing pool. The water was hot, cleansing, and relaxing—nirvana. Or maybe it was the way he held her. She felt as if she were wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and protection. The nightmare of the previous hours began to fade. He crooned to her while gently washing the stench from her body. She was home and did not, would not question her good fortune, afraid that it would melt away just as her ordeal was doing. Had he ever been so gentle? It was a side of him she would not have believed existed. He was not angry with her or repelled and the horrific episode lodged in every pore, purged through the tears streaming down her face. Nadia grew weary but refused to close her eyes. She feared the last few hours would replay over and over in her dreams and couldn’t face the thought. There appeared no way to convey her thoughts to Sherem, however, as he summoned a Med-tech Engineer with instructions to bring a sleeping potion. Sherem could read the panic in her eyes but hadn’t a notion of what was spinning around in her brain. Did she not trust him to take care of her? Did she fear his wrath? When the MTE arrived, Nadia let out a squeak as beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. Her eyes were pleading with him. “Do you not want the potion, misulu?” At the relief he witnessed in her gaze, he knew he had guessed correctly. “The drug you were given is called Bymithium; a combination motor inhibitor, amphetamine, and anesthesia. It paralyzes certain parts of the brain leaving you aware and conscious but unable to move or speak. It is also very uncomfortable to come down from, painful. I would not see you suffer more than you have. The injection will allow you to sleep through this process. I ask that you trust me and allow me to do what is best for you,” he whispered softly. Her gaze told him that she would like to believe him. “Leave the injector here, Dimi, I will administer it myself, you may go,” Sherem said as he turned back to Nadia, but as the panel slid open he bade her to wait. “How is my brother?” He wanted to know. “He remains incapacitated but the unit is doing its job. His blood pressure is elevated but I believe it is because he is unable to order us about.” She shrugged as a half-smile touched her lips. “That and the female who refuses to leave his side guarding over him like a she-ankou.” Sherem chuckled. “I am glad I am not there. Who is the overprotective female?” 61

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The MTE shifted uncomfortably, moving her gaze from Sherem to Nadia before answering. “Tula is with him, my Prince,” she answered quietly before exiting. “It appears my brother has made another conquest,” he commented to no one in particular. Nadia’s breath seized in her throat. Tula remained with him. He had brought her aboard the Portender even though he had known Nadia would be with him. How dare he pretend that he cared for her when he chose to travel with his gift. Did he honestly think she would stand for it? That he could mate with her—to have and to hold? Only he would have her but hold Tula? Would that she had the use of her limbs, she would pummel the appendage between his legs so he would find no pleasure from his pleasurer. She speared him with a look of censure impossible to misinterpret. Sherem swore under his breath. He just had to ask that last question. He wanted to kick himself across the room. Why was it that whenever a bond began to form between them something occurred to tromp on it like a heavy foot on a delicate flower? He quickly injected the potion rendering her unconscious. They would save this coming storm for when she could flay him in the manner he deserved. He could always hope she wouldn’t remember upon awakening. He sighed. Dakar felt such agony he wanted to trounce the being responsible for his existence, zap the million stingers relentlessly piercing his skin, and rail at the female quietly stroking his arm like a favored pet. The Med-tech Unit had done its job in mending his bones, tendons and lacerations, but as the Bymithium worked its way through his system, his discomfort grew ten-fold. He had communicated his refusal of the antidote with a hard won “no”, for the drug not only alleviated the worst of the symptoms and promoted sleep, it sometimes acted as a truth serum. The serum he would avoid at all costs as long as Tula remained by his side. At any moment, the moisture that welled in his eyes would overflow, making him look like a sniveling baby in need of a wet nurse. He would rather his weakness show in front of anyone but her. His brother’s ‘gift’—and Dakar’s dark obsession. Sherem made his way to the isolation unit where his brother was being treated and found Bran outside guarding as Sherem had requested. “No trouble as yet, my friend?” he asked. “No one has come near but the female, Tula,” Bran responded with a growl. “I am a killing beast, feared by all who have seen or even heard of me. I can destroy tens of 62

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your kind in two-minute intervals, yet both of your females treat me as a housebroken pet. It is not to be borne,” he stated with a shake of his massive head. What a dichotomy, Sherem mused; the males were terrified beyond description while the females either wanted to hug him or order him about. He tried to squelch a grin. “I apologize, but you must have similar problems with your own females; the species are difficult to comprehend and impossible to control.” Sherem lifted his shoulders in tandem with his hands in the age-old gesture of bewilderment. “But Tula is no longer my pleasurer or of any consequence to me. She remains against my wishes, with an unknown agenda. In truth, she is making my life and that of my future mate untenable. I cannot, however, repudiate her in deference to diplomatic considerations, and she has assured me she is not here to make trouble for me or mine. I can only hope she speaks the truth.” Placing his palm on the wall pad the door to the unit slid open. “Tula, leave now and do not try to see my brother again. He is a prisoner and allowed no visitors,” Sherem ordered with obvious rancor. After Tula fled the room Sherem focused on Dakar, taking several moments to put his feelings into words. Dakar studied him warily. Sherem sat down on the mat and studied his hands before speaking. “I feel like I have awakened from a living nightmare, and can once again see clearly. I have always trusted and loved you above all others, Dakar. If anyone else had been accused of my demise, I would have been able to weigh the facts without bias, but when all the arrows of accusation pointed in your direction, my judgment and perception became skewed. It is unclear who would set these incidents in motion or why, but of one thing I am sure. The culprit is not you. I can only humbly ask your forgiveness for my doubt and behavior these last moons.” Tears ran down Dakar’s face and into his hair but kept any words behind a tightly clenched jaw. Sherem studied his brother with renewed attention. Something was amiss. “Are you not well, my brother? You are sweating worse than a glass of iced water in the middle of a desert.” “Painnnn,” he ground out from the pit of his being. Sherem stood over him and shouted, “Were you not cared for, did they not heal you and give you something to block the aftereffects of the drug? You are here for your protection, not as a punishment for uncommitted deeds.” 63

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“I refused to ask with that female hovering over me like her next meal,” Dakar revealed ruefully. “Dimi, an antidote-tranq for my brother, stat!” Sherem growled into the COM unit. “You can be as stubborn as any ankou alive, Dakar. Tula is no more than a fixture, why not order her from your quarters and take the medication offered,” Sherem asked, puzzled at his brother’s reticence. Though Tula was a princess of Jasper and Sherem honored by the giving of her, she had remained somewhat of a cumbersome obligation, an un-needed toy. That Tula seemed to hold him in similar regard bothered him not in the least. So why his brother would care about her presence, or lack thereof, he could not fathom. The panel opened to admit the MTE and Tula, once again. “I thought I told you to leave these quarters, Tula,” Sherem began only to be cut off by a mutinous scowl from his former pleasurer who previously had seemed polite and pliant. “If you had but trusted your brother from the beginning, he would not be in this condition. I have stood back and let things progress without interference but no longer. I will care for your brother myself and ensure no further ‘incidents’ befall him in your care.” The last words shot like a spear through Sherem’s conscience and knew his remorse showed clearly as his somber gaze fell to Dakar. His brother had no words of vindication. He had lost consciousness. Sherem charged down the corridor toward the detention center. He would know who plotted to create the chasm between him and his brother. Moreover, who had the death wish to involve, and then harm Nadia? The Detention Officer appeared in front of him looking perplexed and not a little panicked. “He is dead, Your Highness, by his own hand.” “How did that happen? Our cells would not permit such an attempt without automatically intervening.” Sherem waited, his skepticism mounting with each bead of moisture forming on the officer’s brow. He felt the presence of Bran, behind and to his right. “It was self induced. We don’t know how, but have sent the body for an autopsy. We followed procedures to the letter. We searched him thoroughly, restrained, and watched him. We suspect he had a poison tooth.” After studying his officer for another moment, he dismissed him, already determining his next move. It felt increasingly like a game of three level chess. 64

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Sherem addressed a group of his most trusted warriors and crewmates briefing them on the upcoming journey to earth and informing them of the vial to be carefully guarded in the isolation compartment in the main Med-Tech Unit. “Two guards will be assigned at six hour intervals to ensure the vials safety and six others together with the ankou will guard my brother to ensure his…safety as well as my own.” The message rang patently clear; his brother was a suspected assassin. Sherem, Dakar, and Bran agreed that it was the safest route for the time being for they believed a spy—or several— could be on board and would hesitate to harm either Sherem or Dakar if his whereabouts could be proven at all times. Further, it would give his brother, when disguised, the freedom to roam while Bran guarded him. Enough of the crew had witnessed Bran’s ability to cloak himself, to ensure no one would approach Dakar’s panel, even if the passageway appeared deserted. “Dismissed,” Sherem ordered and rose to leave the planning room but at a subtle signal from his captain, he hung back. “What is on your mind, Jorge?” “You are, Sherem. Who will be watching your back while the beas, uh, the ankou is watching your brother?” “I am perfectly capable of watching my own back, however, I do expect you to be doubly vigilant and keep your eyes attuned to anything that does not appear quite right. My instincts tell me that this will be a very interesting journey; complicated further by the presence of the princesses Nadia and Tula, who must also be protected. Be sure to warn the men that 'protect' does not extend to touch, in the case of Princess Nadia, for I would hate to have to kill any of my own warriors over a messy and unwise attraction. Do we understand each other, my friend?” “Yes, though I can barely contain my amusement. I have never seen you like this over a female,” Jorge answered then strode out of the room whistling. Sherem groaned and realized it was becoming one of his most frequent expressions.

*** “What are you doing here? Leave my quarters at once. I may have to tolerate your presence on this ship but I will not do the same in my private rooms,” Nadia pronounced scathingly. Though still suffering the lethargy left behind by the tranq, she ranted at the audacity of her rival. Why did she have to be a princess on top of it all? She had serviced Sherem for who knew how long and was obviously not going to 65

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relinquish him easily. Nadia’s greatest fear, however, she concealed deep in her soul. What if Tula could conceive while she, almost certainly, could not? The deadly infertility virus that had been infused into the air over Gattonia, for the purpose of annihilating their race, had worked on her as well as most of the other females within Gattonia. Since reaching her maturity, she had declined the test that would confirm her fertility, or lack thereof, and simply counted herself lucky there were no outward signs of the virus’ effects, unlike many other females. It was the same catastrophe that brought Catarina into their lives. The influx of earth women bolstered their race, and ensured its survival, but at what cost? It was ironic that one of the best things that happened to their family began and remained as the worst. Nadia studied the Princess of Jasper. Tula magnified every shortcoming Nadia possessed. She was graceful, delicate, even-featured, had porcelain white skin that reminded her of the soft petals of an orchid, and was so very, very tiny in stature. She had hair the color of Sherem’s that contrasted beautifully with piercing deep violet eyes that warily watched Nadia as thoroughly as Nadia regarded her. Nadia wondered what she saw; a gangly giant with pronounced features and unrelenting amber from head to foot? She inwardly grinned. One step from her bare foot would probably squish the perfect little thing to death. A pity she wasn’t the violent type. “What I have to impart could be of great benefit to us both, if you will please give me a moment,” Tula stated nodding toward the lounger that Nadia had risen from abruptly when Tula had invaded her room. Nadia, believing height her only advantage, stood her ground with tilted head and a quirked eyebrow, waiting. Tula sighed. “Very well, I will sit while you continue to loom over me. You are a very obstinate female, not at all as you have been described,” she observed as she floated across the room, descended upon the soft upholstered lounger, and tucked her dainty feet beneath her. Tula stared directly into Nadia’s eyes and announced, “I do not want Sherem as my mate. In truth, I no longer hold the place as pleasurer nor will I miss it. We were never intimate, in fact.” Nadia snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. Tula sighed delicately. “The exercise that you witnessed between us had no more import than any other relaxation method of massage. It is simply our way of giving service to those in need of comfort, and totally non-sexual in nature.” 66

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Nadia glared, unseeing, at the blatant lie. Did the female think she was totally ignorant in the ways of males and females? If the unlimited information provided by the vidcoms proved insufficient, the graphic descriptions depicted in the steady stream of earth romance novels she devoured on a regular basis left nothing to the imagination. “Think you I have no knowledge of oral sex and where it leads? Yet another misconception, no doubt. A blow job definitely fits into the category of intimacy with a capitol S-E-X.” “Our culture is infinitely more advanced than yours, as is our understanding of sex, intimacy, massage, healing and all manner of physical and mental relaxation and stimulation. What I have confided to you is the truth, Prince Sherem and I have never been intimate by the standards of Fleurevitae,” Tula explained. At Nadia’s anticipated objection she held up a dainty hand for silence and continued, “Do not misunderstand me, princess, a “blow job”, as you so delicately put it can indeed be sexual, but it may also act as an exercise to promote relaxation. That is the case where your prince is concerned. I have no desire to be intimate with another’s mate which I have considered him these two cycles past, just as I have no longing for intimacy with Sherem even unencumbered. My heart is engaged elsewhere and I fear it is a lifelong sentence.” Nadia reeled at both Tula’s confession and her clear agitation in doing so. She blushed like an adolescent and averted her gaze, as if searching for a crack in the floor to crawl into. Her sophistication had vanished. Nadia plopped down onto the opposite end of the lounger and stared at this new side of the princess from Jasper. “So what are you doing here?” an only slightly skeptical Nadia inquired. Tula thought her conversation with Nadia proceeded well, and as it continued, she found she liked the princess very much. She felt a connection quite rare in her dealings with other females. Nadia had gone so far as to offer any help she could in bringing Dakar around to notice Tula as a potential lifemate. And was further heartened when Nadia confided that she and Dakar had become as close as siblings and felt the two of them would be good for one another. Tula smiled gratefully while studying her new friend unabashedly. Of course, she had heard the stories about her being different, even grotesque, but nothing had prepared her for the reality. She boasted a rarity of breathtakingly beauty, perfect in every way. The matching tones of her hair, eyes, and skin should have made her seem non-descript 67

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but nothing could have been further from the truth. It instead accented the dramatic tilt of her large eyes, the perfection of her sculpted cheekbones, her large, generous mouth, and long slender neck. It made Tula feel commonplace and not the exotic beauty everyone purported her to be. Nadia had a striking uniqueness that all together mesmerized. She resembled a breathing, golden statue, so striking she was almost difficult to look upon, but her powerful aura intervened. She was as clear as an amber stream with no meanness or conceit within, only quiet intelligence and unwavering simpatico. No wonder Sherem fell smitten. Nadia froze at Tula’s scrutiny wanting to avert her gaze and find an excuse to remove herself from sight but her pride would not allow it. She had become quite accustomed to people gawking at her and knew they would be unsatisfied until they stared their fill. No longer a child, she would not cower as one. She straightened her shoulders and defiantly remained unmoving. Tula noticed the change in her friend’s demeanor and silently chastised herself for her insensitivity. She was sure it was a common occurrence for Nadia to be stared at and must be tiresome to deal with. Tula flashed a self-depreciating smile. “It’s just that you are so breath-stealing lovely and unique, it quite takes my breath away,” Tula admitted. “Don’t worry, Tula, I am well aware of my, shall we say, unusual looks; I do own a mirror after all.” Tula blinked twice, not at all sure what she had heard or what it meant. “Your pardon?” she asked, bewildered. “Too, I believe is the operative word,” Nadia continued her pre-emptive strike in an effort to have the subject dealt with and over. “T-two?” Nadia gritted her teeth. “Too. Eyes too large. Nose too small. Lips too full. Coloring too...too.” Tula stared too hard at her for a moment. And then laughed…too hard.

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Chapter Nine

Sherem was confused. The mysteries surrounding him kept unraveling even as others realigned. Were Tula’s motives as simple as they appeared or did she hide some deeper purpose? His ‘accidents’ had begun not long after her appearance, yet he had never thought to question the timing of her arrival. What kind of a strategist was he that he looked for deceit from his own brother before questioning the pleasurer that showed up on his doorstep, previously unknown to him? She was in a position to have killed him on countless occasions, yet because of her connection to the Queen, until several minutes ago; he had never given it a thought. He had made his situation clear as to their separation and his allegiance to Nadia yet she stuck to him like an unwanted burr. Even with the easy-going manner of the Jasperi and non-confrontational ministrations, they were still a people of great pride and dignity. Why would a princess of these people stay where she was clearly not wanted? And why did she suddenly insist on staying by his brother’s side. Did she plan to set him up even further as assassin against Sherem or could there be some other reason that eluded him. Could she be plotting to kill Dakar then blame Sherem? He exited his post at the helm of his ship, leaving his navigator, Dune, in charge. He wanted to speak with his brother and Bran and get their thoughts. Taking the lift to the third level that housed his brother, Tula, and Nadia he made his way to the very end where his brother resided. Passing Nadia’s quarters, he thought he heard females in conversation. Had she made friends with one of his crew so quickly? He always considered her shy and protective of herself. Approaching his brother’s quarters, he heard the soft swish of an opening panel and observed Tula exiting Nadia’s quarters. What in the name of Zazu was going on? His brother was not in his quarters, no doubt on walkabout with Bran. He headed toward Nadia’s panel and entered before he even realized he had moved from his brother’s quarters. The affliction that greeted him stunned him speechless.

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“Do you have it in your possession?” the disembodied voice demanded. “Yes, er, no,” the other stuttered nervously into the outer COM unit. “They won’t be taking Heavens Gate to the Gattonian scientists or anywhere else, it has been destroyed.” “You were not foolish enough to ingest it yourself, were you,” he inquired silkily. “N-no, sir. It is no more than a death sentence and we both know it, I jettisoned it from the ship with other refuse. It will never be found either here or in anyone’s metabolism,” he submitted proudly, as if he had figured out the possible ramifications all by himself. “And you were not seen?” the voice continued silkily. “I swear on my m-mother’s ashes, great leader.” “That’s very good, Minoc, very good. And you know what to do next?” the voice probed. “It is clear, consider it done, sir. End transmission,” came the rushed reply. The officer silently exited the main COM room, available to all crewmembers wanting to contact family and friends while serving on the Portender.

*** Nadia turned as Sherem entered her chambers unannounced. She would somehow break him of that accursed habit but first she wanted his reaction to the reimaging that Tula had wrought. How Tula could think her a singular beauty escaped her but when Nadia explained her weariness at having to look upon the same bland reflection every day, she suggested a remarkable solution. “Um, so what do you think?” Nadia asked tentatively, touching her hair then smoothing her thigh-length sheath. “You look like a desecrated whore,” he ground out, demonstrating his usual finesse in dealing with his soon-to-be mate. He marched to her and touched her hair and the painted design on her face, neck, and one shoulder with disbelieving thoroughness. The turquoise, silver and black tattoo began at her left temple, patterned across her face down her neck to her shoulder, and disappeared under her gown heading toward her right breast. Her hair had been streaked using the same colors. Surely, he gulped, it could not be permanent, no deity could be that cruel, would allow the destruction of so perfect a creation. Someone had taken the symmetry of her golden beauty and vandalized it with graffiti and he knew just whom to blame. He would deal with her later. Blast her into 70

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space if need be but first he had to cleanse his female. He gently drew her dress down to expose her right breast, relieved to see it stopped where the material began, and awed at the perfection of her plump globe. Nadia stared in embarrassed fascination at her exposed breast and the way it budded under his perusal. When he lowered his head and gingerly circled that bud with his tongue, she jumped as if electrocuted. “What are you doing,” she yelped breathlessly, as he pressed the sheath back into place. His eyes met hers and opened his mouth to apologize but instead grabbed her arm and commenced dragging her to the clean room. “Cleaning you up,” he growled back. “Stop it,” she screeched. “Stop it this instant; I assure you I am perfectly clean already.” “We’ve got to get it off you and then I will deal with the witch that did this to you.” “I don’t want to get it off. I think it’s beautiful. Tula said there are civilizations where skin patterning is common and denotes family origin, occupation, and even mating status. Would you like to know the meaning of this design?” “You don’t understand,” he informed her, ignoring her question and working to shepherd her to the clean room. “The longer the stain remains on your skin, the more permanent it becomes. I will not have you marked.” “Oh, I understand, you barbaric moron. I understand more than you know. I understand, for instance, that the only reason you want me is to permanently monopolize the Assyllis trade. And I understand you have no intention of giving up your pleasures after we mate. Well you can have your precious flowers but it will be a cold day in hell before I let you touch me, let alone bathe me again.” Nadia stood her ground, stomping her foot. The accusation behind Assyllis blew by without note, the ‘pleasurer’ comment— undoubtedly understandable, but horror dawned as he recalled his actions. He had all but called his misulu a whore and then familiarly laved her breast. “Your pardon, I…” Then Bran’s voice sounded within him. “Trouble,” it intoned clearly. “Tell me,” Sherem thought back. “The vial of Angels Gate had been secreted from the Med-tech Center,” Bran answered. 71

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Nadia gawked, openly puzzled at the sudden change in Sherem. Something distracted him; his eyes lost focus and his body grew taut as if he was communicating telepathically with someone. Only she was certain he had no such abilities—no Nefari did as far as she knew for she would have felt it. She was an incredibly strong telepath though strove to hide the full force of her talent. When he pulled even further into himself, she used it as an opportunity to discern what about him held her in such thrall. Though arresting in a rough sort of way, the scar across the plain of his forehead and his brash mannerisms, precluded any claim to classic charm or beauty. Sherem’s features were harsh and his expression grim, which embedded additional creases into an all ready scored terrain. Yet he compelled and mesmerized her whenever his gaze held hers. She closed her eyes; what did it all mean? His control over her was undeniable and something her mind could not begin to encompass. She registered steel like brackets on both shoulders before his mouth crashed down onto hers, then just as fast, he was gone. “SHEREM,” she blasted into his mind, determined to confirm what she surmised. He would not have been able to screen his reaction to such a compelling command and her suspicions were put to rest; he had no telepathic abilities…but she learned something else as well. Someone very close did. And they were not Gattonian, Nefari, or any other being she had ever felt. Whatever it was, however, was clearly on the ship. She shivered in apprehension.

*** Tula flummoxed him, Dakar acknowledged. Recovered from his injuries and back to his duties, she persisted in her care of him and it made him jumpy and raw. Even when he refused to acknowledge her presence, his senses tracked her every fluid movement. She floated serenely around his chambers, straightening objects that did not require straightening, brewing him choc-tea, which she pressed into his hands, and in general making a nuisance of herself. The female invaded his quarters at will, allowing him no privacy during his waking hours and at night haunted his dreams with a thoroughness that left him shaking with a desire so strong he anointed his stomach with his seed on occasion. She was a plague, a pestilence that gave no quarter, except to drive him sensually insane. Today when she breezed past his guards, entered his chambers, and swayed toward him, opening her mouth to speak—he cut her off. “What in hells name gives you 72

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the right to barge into my quarters whenever the mood strikes you, female? One of these days you will catch me stripped and primed,” he drawled challengingly. “Oh, Dakar, the thought makes me tremble, but I wonder whether in fear or some other emotion.” She sauntered toward him and placed a delicate hand on his chest. He found that indeed she was trembling. “What do you play at, pleasurer?” Tula flinched as if struck. He stared at her, perplexed. Though at times he wanted to strangle her, being on the receiving end of the hurt he read in her startling violet eyes created a crater in his chest where his heart once resided. When he reached for her to apologize she whirled, and marched to his panel. Keeping her back to him she said, “Your brother sent me to request your presence in the main Med-lab. He asked that you hurry.” As she floated from his vision, he wondered what had just occurred. He turned and grabbed his tunic from his sleeping mat and gingerly donned it. His injuries, though healed for the most part, still felt tight. Why had his brother sent for him at the Med-lab? Why not COM him? And what had Tula intimated, exactly, before he opened his big mouth? When Dakar entered the Med-lab, three sets of eyes met his. “The vial of Angels Gate has been exchanged for a placebo which confirms we have a traitor or traitors on board,” Sherem stated shortly. “You are certain?” Dakar asked, looking first at Bran and then Jorge before walking to his brother’s side to examine the small tube. He ran his finger over the base where Sherem had made a chink, invisible to the naked eye. It was smooth. “I was the last of the three of us to check for the mark last eve and it was still there. Since then the shift has changed twice,” Jorge told Dakar. “When I decided to stop in a few minutes ago, this is what I found.” “Have you looked at the monitor archives, as yet?” “Not yet, your brother and Bran arrived right behind me and…how did you know something was wrong?” Jorge turned his attention to Sherem. “I had just reached the COM unit when you entered.” Sherem shrugged. “Serendipity.” Dakar barked out a laugh. “Serendipity? My big tough warrior brother knows a word like serendipity.” The teasing mirth in Dakar’s eyes leaped to Sherem’s. Relations between them were slowly returning to normal though Sherem could still detect a cloud 73

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of wariness surfacing when Dakar didn’t know he was being observed. Sherem hoped time and attention would see it disappear. Nadia had made him question the obvious, he should never have doubted his brother, no matter the circumstances, and he wanted to kick himself for his stubbornness and how it had damaged his relationship with Dakar. All he could do now was go forward. As the two grinned at each other like fools, Bran messaged that Dakar’s comment had taken the focus off Sherem’s timely arrival and suggested he use it to move on to the subject of the theft before more questions of an uncomfortable nature surfaced. Sherem nodded slightly in acknowledgement. “Jorge, we must review the virtual surveillance records for the last twelve hours. It will be slow going, who would like to take the first four; we must find the thief and the Angels Gate before it can be distributed.” “I will review the entirety of the data, I should have been more vigilant, my Prince,” Jorge admitted. Sherem noted his captain’s dejected demeanor and felt like a heel. He couldn’t confide that the whole exercise had been set up just for this occurrence. “There is only so much any of us can do, Jorge, you cannot take the blame for someone else’s actions. Each person chooses his own path to honor or dishonor. I will come spell you later this afternoon and Bran can assist, as well. He has keener eyesight than we mere mortals.” Bran ruffed in acknowledgement then followed the brothers as they made their way to Sherem’s quarters to consider their next move. Things were going as planned and would now become more dangerous. Sherem knew that Bran would stay silently by his side at all times…unless he managed to corral the female of his desire; then Bran would guard their privacy. He fought a grin as he made his plans for that evening. That evening Tula propelled a reluctant Nadia into the officer’s lounge. Nadia had not left her cabin since her rescue three days before. Her injuries on the outside were healed but the ones inside would take considerably longer. She felt exposed, ashamed, and embarrassed. Nadia wondered how many had witnessed the scene with Dakar, and even felt awkward meeting Dakar, her almost-brother. She wanted to burrow in her room for the rest of the journey but Tula would have none of it. The tiny tinker bell had turned tyrant. Jorge watched as the two beauties entered, causing male eyes, tongues, and other appendages to protrude. Tula’s diminutive frame, dark, curling tresses, and lively violet 74

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eyes were a perfect counterpoint to Nadia’s tall willowy figure, liquid Amber eyes and hair flowing smoothly to the base of her back in matching deep, golden glory. Their body language shouted from opposite spectrums, as well, and Jorge had to smile. Tula’s every move whispered of sensual delights while Nadia’s proclaimed aloof innocence. They eclipsed everything beautiful and desirous in a female and every male felt the power of it. After they were seated, the horde descended offering to bring food, spirits, or anything else attainable. When the waiter made to fight his way through, the captain could contain his laughter no longer. At that moment, he was infinitely grateful to his lifemate, whom he cherished even more than his ship. He sounded a whistle to attention and ordered the crew back to their stations. Nadia nodded her appreciation. Nadia shivered. “Thank the heavens they’re gone.” “They were only expressing their appreciation for your beauty, you should be flattered,” Tula commented. “Your beauty, you mean,” Nadia corrected. “My friend, you are the loveliest thing I have ever encountered and with my position at the palace I have seen many. Why do you question your fairness when it proclaims itself with every line of your body and radiates from within; it is no wonder Sherem has thoughts for no other but you.” “Oh, Tula,” Nadia groaned. “You don’t understand; the only thoughts he entertains are those pertaining to my lineage and natural resources.” Tula exuded an unlady-like snort and Nadia started with surprise making Tula laugh raucously through her reply. “I have no doubt that your natural resources are exactly what he is after.” Nadia’s confusion turned to understanding and she too began to giggle. “T-that is not what I meant,” Nadia clarified a minute later, relaxing for the fist time in days with the outlet of her laughter. “No,” she croaked, wiping her eyes and clearing her throat. “No, Tula, he is only interested in Gattonias Assyllis. Nefar handles the treating and distribution of it galaxy wide. It has enriched their economy and helped their people immensely. In mating with me, Nefar’s future will be assured. That is why he pursues me.” Tula studied her. “Are you so naïve in the ways of males?” After a moment she nodded and added under her breath, “Yes, I can see that you are. 75

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“Nadia, Sherem is besotted with you—obsessed. I am his pleasurer and would know.” Tula checked to be sure of their privacy and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I will tell you something in utmost confidence. I have never been breeched. I remain pure.” Nadia’s eyes bugged and her mouth fell open. “But that can’t be, you have been Sherem’s pleasurer for a long while…and I saw you that day.” Her eyes closed in an effort to block the vision. Tula sought to erase the look of pain arresting her features. “What I told you before is true; you saw a Fluerevitae relaxation technique and nothing more; our bonding centers have never intertwined. The Jasperi are taught from a young age to use our bodies to give comfort, pleasure, and healing in a myriad of ways. None of these methods bring shame or embarrassment but enrichment and knowledge. The only negative touches are those not given freely but stolen and only the thief should suffer shame for it.” Tula met Nadia’s gaze directly before continuing. “Sherem loves you with his whole heart, Nadia. It is a rare gift he offers.” Nadia sighed. “I am happy that you never, er, intertwined and thank you for easing my mind but I still believe you are mistaken.” Nadia studied her hands resting in her lap before admitting, “You see, I overheard Sherem telling his friends that his interest in me laid solely in monetary and political gain.” “Bosh, what you heard was simple male posturing. Did you truly expect him to admit that, after chasing you for three cycles without success, he was hopelessly in love with you? You told me you were raised by your brother and his protector; did you learn nothing of male ego?” Nadia closed her eyes fighting the hope fluttering like caged birds against her insecurities.

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Chapter Ten

Norric watched the two females with growing interest. They had been bent low toward one another for an hour; no doubt sharing secrets and intimacies blocked from other males hearing and insights. They were ripe for his touch and he knew just what would turn their centers to liquid. Between the two, there would be enough juice to feed him for a week. Maybe even satisfy him long enough to wean himself from the wicked Angel holding him, strangling him tighter with every hour; warping his perception and vision—corroding his very soul. Alvia would never condone his actions, never forgive; but then Alvia was dead, lost to him for all eternity. All that remained was this hell, this dark, dank, angry void where he resided except in the throws of Angels Gate, where he swore he could still feel his mate living in other females—waiting for him to claim the pods and free his Alvia. He had to have her back or the crushing vacuum would claim him for all time. Angels Gate would make it happen. He would make it happen, for he would bludgeon every portal until it was so. “Tula, tell me, do you know anything of self-defense?” Nadia asked, out of the blue. Startled, Tula laughed. “If we knew aught of defense or using our bodies in a destructive manner, we would not have required the assistance of your mate.” “He is not my mate,” Nadia answered absently while covertly studying the burly crewmember across the hall. His eyes were glazed and red-rimmed, and a coating of sweat covered his face and bare arms. And he had not taken his gaze from them since he entered. “Tula, it is important that you do exactly as I ask with no questions or arguments. Get up from the table now and exit quickly. Find Sherem and bring him here.” “But…”

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“Now!” As Tula rose, the male charged toward her. Nadia stepped between the two casually, facing him. “I don’t believe we have met, I am Nadia, Princess of Gattonia, here at Prince Sherem’s request.” She made herself ready for confrontation. Norric blinked; the vision of his mate super-imposed on that of the pretender. She was keeping him from Alvia. If he killed the pretender, his Alvia would come to the fore and be freed. The one trapping his mate would be no match for him, he doubled her in weight. He approached slowly, sure of his goal. Alvia would help him. She didn’t want to be in this other female. “Alvia, come to me. I will kill her and all will be right again. This time I won’t let anyone harm you. I’ll never leave your side. Come to me, my only love, we will kill the usurper together.” He rushed the pretender, fixing his hands around her neck. She used his forward momentum to roll back onto the floor and throw him a length behind her. She jumped up and rubbed her throat, trying to get air though it. But he was stronger and more determined. She would die. “Sherem, the meeting hall. Your mate.” Bran disappeared through the panel before either brother could react. Sherem froze in mid-sentence then raced after Bran leaving Dakar to wonder what had just occurred. The fleeting look Sherem had cast his brother had been one of terror. He heard Dakar scramble up and follow in their wake. Tula failed to register the whoosh that brushed past her as she rushed in the opposite direction but when she spotted Sherem she screamed for him to hurry. Dakar, rounding the corner several feet behind him, snagged her hand and kept running. “Dakar,” she pleaded, frantically. “Don’t worry,” he replied. Sherem burst into the dining hall to see Nadia standing alone against a crazed lunatic charging toward her. Her face was flushed, her expression focused and determined while her neck showed purplish bruises, telling him it was not the first attack. He raced toward her just as a wraith-like invisible force blew over her, trapping her assailant. When Bran materialized, Nadia collapsed and stared, frozen. Bran gave her his best tongue-hanging grin. “You killed him,” Sherem accused, wanting the pleasure for himself. Bran stood with his paws on the male’s chest, restricting his breathing. 78

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He backed off, observing the now unconscious human with interest. “I don’t believe so, well perhaps, but not intentionally. He collapsed.” “Are you all right, misulu?” Sherem reached Nadia in two strides and swept her up into his arms. Too stunned to respond, she merely nodded threading her arms around his neck. Her acquiescence alone alerted Sherem to her level of shock. “You caused this,” Sherem accused, pinning Tula with a threatening glare. “Of course she didn’t cause it,” Dakar defended. “What would she have to gain, because if you think it is you, your ego has out-distanced you common sense. She is a princess and no longer under your protection, for which I am sure she is grateful. Is this not true?” Dakar leveled Tula with a glare equaling Sherem’s. “You know it is true,” she reassured quietly. Then Tula faced Sherem. “Nadia and I have become friends, despite you. I would do naught to hurt her, and though she seems to tolerate you passably well, Prince Sherem, not all share her forbearance,” Tula replied haughtily, showing her royal upbringing for the first time. Nadia giggled weakly, jerking Sherem from his bemused state. “Dakar, I do believe Princess Tula is over-set. Please escort her to her quarters.” Sherem paused, “Tuly, are you hurt?” Nadia stiffened at the endearment and tried to pull away but Sherem held her fast. Tula simply grinned. “No, Nadia seemed to sense the eminent danger and sent me for help. She kept him from me. I thank you,” Tula said, meeting Nadia’s gaze. “My honor, princess. Defense classes begin in my quarters tomorrow before breakfast.” Tula nodded, a small smile playing around her mouth as she left with Dakar. “I owe my thanks to you, Bran; I don’t know how much longer I could have kept him at bay. You certainly know how to make an appearance. I didn’t see you coming, how did you do that?” Several crewmembers poured through the entrance to observe the aftermath of the scuffle. “Take him to the Med-tech, I will follow in a few moments,” Sherem ordered gruffly, then silently communicated for Bran to follow. “Bran,” Nadia croaked softly. “Bran…” She tried again, a question pooling in her wide gaze. Sherem fought a grin. He’d had similar gasping moments when it came to his protector and was still surprised speechless by him on occasion. “Bran can shift to near 79

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invisibility when it suits him. I don’t know how he accomplishes it, and am not privy to other unusual talents, barring one or two.” “Wow, I wish he could talk. Think of all he could tell us about his species, their numbers, evolution, and other powers.” “Be careful what you wish for…” Nadia shook her head as if to clear it. “It’s strange, Sherem. Ever since I came aboard the Portender, I sometimes hear voices in my head, almost like telepathy. Are there Gattonians among your crew?” “No. Maybe you are hearing snippets from the Miramid or your brother,” Sherem proposed, “we approach galaxy jump within hours.” “It doesn’t feel that way, it’s different, but I can’t explain how. Oh well, I am sure it will come to light…or go away.” Sherem lowered her gently to the ground though his every instinct demanded he keep her crushed safely to him. “Come, I will escort you to your quarters before I report to the Med-tech. Why did he attack you? Were you talking to or looking at him?” Nadia stiffened. “Of course not. We were deep into a discussion when I noticed him out of the corner of my eye. He appeared abnormally focused on us so I kept him in view. When he stood and began circling his way toward us, I told Tula to get help before he could block the exit, then I engaged his attention. But there was something odd about his body movements and expression. He appeared drunk or dazed and he was talking to someone not there. Sherem, you have seen me in social situations; flirting is beyond my capabilities. I would never—“ “Shh.” Sherem pressed a finger to her lips. “I know you would never. It is just that I know this male; he is trustworthy and loyal, it is difficult to believe…you said drunk or dazed? Come let us hurry.” Even with long legs, keeping up proved difficult with Sherem’s powerful stride, especially when the slight pressure of his hand on her back, propelling her along, seared the small of her back. “Stop,” she insisted, causing Sherem to catch her from falling because of the forward momentum of his stride as their bodies collided. Nadia’s lips twitched as she turned and pushed his massive frame an arm’s length from hers. “You are obviously in a hurry to leave my company; again, so why don’t I just return to my cabin at my own 80

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leisurely pace leaving you to do whatever it is you must do. Then whenever you can spare a few minutes, possibly, we can endeavor to converse in complete sentences until we have completed one entire conversation.” “May I remind you that the only reason we are here is at your behest, Princess, and that my responsibilities are numerous and time consuming.” Sherem immediately changed his demeanor from commander to predator. His eyes smoldered with dark promise. An involuntary tremor of awareness stole through Nadia’s anger and she took an involuntary step back. “If all you wanted was my undivided attention, my spitting tiger, a mere summons to your chambers within the House of Ra would have accomplished the task neatly. As it stands now, you may be assured that as soon as my business is concluded I will present myself and we can communicate for the remainder of the night.” “Must you twist every encounter to embody unbridled lust?” Sherem coughed with the effort it took to hide a surprised laugh. From where did these inflaming innuendos originate and did she even grasp the implications such banter had on him? He took a sudden step toward her and grasped her upper arms, imprisoning her while he studied her wide anxious eyes. Obviously, she did not. Sherem sighed in frustration. How could one so innocent sprout the words of a courtesan? “I desire you in every way, Nadia, make no mistake, but you are the one who spoke of lust, not I, so it appears that possibly you are the one who twists my words toward an intimate vane.” Nadia’s cheeks flamed. She broke his hold on her with no effort and stormed down the hallway with Sherem’s knowing laughter echoing behind her. Sherem whistled the entire way to the Med-center. Upon entering the med-tech Sherem barked, “Tell me.” The tech jumped then turned around. “He’s on Angels Gate. We’re running a scan to determine how imbedded it has become and from there will ascertain how long he has been using.” “Will he live?” The MTE shrugged. “For now; long term depends on the level of addiction and desire to survive.” The two stared at one another. Both knew of Norric’s loss during the Dargon invasion and how hard he had taken it. “We can’t force him to live, my Prince, even if it’s not too late.” 81

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“I know, Shad. Do you think he could be guilty of treason as well as drug use?” Sherem asked wearily. “I believe his quarters are being searched now.” Sherem nodded. “I’ll check with Jorge. Let me know when he comes to himself.” “Do you want him taken to lock-up when he gains consciousness?” “I’ll let you know.” Sherem went to the COM unit next to the Med entrance and inquired as to Jorge’s location. “We just finished searching Norric’s quarters. We found four vials of Angels Gate, but not the one we are after. He could have all ready disposed of it, I suppose. It could be the one responsible for his current condition.” “I don’t believe so, he wouldn’t have had time to destroy it,” Sherem replied. He disliked keeping the truth about the placebo but everyone on board must remain a suspect for the time being. Many lives depended on it, to say nothing of his own. “Where is my brother?” Sherem asked instead. “We are too lax with that one. I had one of his guards escort him back to his chambers and stay on guard until relieved. I still believe it would be safer for you if we put him in lock-up; it is a nuisance rotating personnel at his door,” Jorge groused. “He is my brother, Captain; I suggest you remember that; further, he is innocent until proven otherwise. I will go to Dakar’s quarters now and relieve the person on duty; Bran will keep watch for the remainder of the night. Oh, and Jorge.” “Yes, my Prince,” Jorge answered formally, obviously backpedaling from his earlier remarks. “See that I am not disturbed until second watch tomorrow. I intend to catch up on my rest. “Jorge, modify that. If Norric gains consciousness, I want to talk to him. Good night.” “I will see to it,” he murmured softly. “Good night.” The scene greeting Sherem on entering Dakar’s chambers proved perplexing. Evening dimmers had been set, casting the room in a soft glow emulating candlelight while soft music played in the background. The atmosphere felt cozy, intimate. Even stranger, Tula sat curled up on the plush lounger with Dakar too close beside her. Both encompassed twin auras of contentment. 82

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Shortly after Dakar’s arrival home almost two cycles past, he did nothing but criticize Tula and her presence at the House of Baraden. And Tula, for her part, a master in the arts of Fluerevitae, visibly bristled at the sight of his brother. Only days ago Dakar asked that Tula be banned from his rooms. Sherem believed they hated one another. Could this be the reason Tula insisted remaining with the Portender? The answer proved a little daunting. He wondered exactly how long they had shared this bond. Why had Dakar not confided in him, he would gladly have stepped aside for the couple. Indeed, it would have made things a good deal easier for him. They were staring, expectantly. Should he ignore their obvious accord or bring it to the fore? Zazu, he had always believed he possessed an adequate understanding of the female psyche, at least for a male. He smiled inwardly at his folly. No one understood females, females didn’t even understand themselves. “Am I interrupting a convergence of some importance?” he asked lightly. Dakar snapped to alert and sprung from his seat as if waking from a trance, Tula too, stood, looking like a child who had snatched a forbidden treat. “No, of course not,” his brother denied too loudly. “Tula was only reviewing what occurred earlier and she, um, didn’t want to be left alone, as yet. I was just, um, keeping her company until she felt calm enough to return to her own quarters. And she is calm now, so—“ “Yes,” she stated, cutting Dakar off, “I am centered now. Thank you Dakar for, um, relaxing me.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll just go calmly to my rooms.” “I don’t know, Tula, you don’t seem calm to me. You seem agitated, maybe you should remain and I can return at a better time,” Sherem offered congenially. “No, no Sherem. Tula has to go anyway.” “Yes, I have clearly overstayed my welcome,” Tula agreed. “Wait a minute, I didn’t say you had overstayed your welcome,” Dakar replied. “Well you intimated,” she asserted. “I most certainly did not do anything of the sort.” Sherem backed out through the panel leaving the two to debate the finer points of welcoming relaxation and moved down the corridor to Nadia’s chamber. He listened for a few moments but heard no sound; he tripped the panel and it slid silently open to reveal a dimly lit empty chamber. Sherem swore quietly and turned to leave when the sound of 83

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water stopped him. He smiled slowly, crossed the room, and stretched out on the large soft sleeping mat…and waited. He was not disappointed. The panel to the clean room slid open, emitting the intoxicating scent of Nadia woven through a foggy mist and the faint outline of a goddess from mythology. His senses shot to full alert. He felt the warm moist air from her skin alight onto his, as the subtle currents from her movement teased his restraint. She entered the umbra-cast room wearing nothing but a small bath blanket. The material left miles of long sleek legs and lush female. She looked relaxed and sensual as she padded across the room with natural grace. Her skin glistened and glowed from her bath and the tangy scent of Assyllis, vanilla, and the female scent belonging to Nadia, alone, made him hard as a stone. She mumbled to herself adorably and he reveled in the pleasure of seeing her with her defenses down. He almost regretted the moment she discovered she was not alone. “Egotistical, conceited lout. I do not twist his words; he simply never listens to himself.” She sighed. “But the way his eyes catch fire sometimes is enough to melt plutonium.” Stamping her foot, she exhaled a disgusted “Humph”. “Lust should have been his middle name, no his only name; that way it would warn hapless maidens to don their chastity belts and hold their noses. Dirt eating scarub; he has me talking to myself again. “Computer, lock for the night and post the privacy sign.” “As you wish, Princess Nadia.” The Portender did not have nearly the amenities of the Miramid but security functions abounded. No one would intrude on her privacy. She hadn’t realized how crowded she would feel with Sherem on the same ship. It seemed every time she turned around he was there standing close enough to touch or across a room staring at her with unerring predatory intent. And though her words erected barriers of propriety, her body rebelled with unrelenting desire. How much longer would she succeed in keeping him at bay when it abounded as something both of them wanted—only for different reasons. Was his experience with females so vast as to be able to fake the hunger in his gaze? She would take the high road until she knew the answer. And if she found it was the Assyllis that put the possessive gleam in his eyes, would she still take him to mate in hopes of eventually capturing his heart? She shuddered. 84

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Nadia moved to the built in storage drawers, draped her wrap on the nearby chair, and bent to fish out a sleeping gown. At a sharp intake of breath she swung around, shielding herself with the silken convection she’d grabbed and identified a large figure materializing from her mat. She drew in a breath to scream. “Misulu, don’t,” Sherem ordered quietly as he reached for her, pushing her up against the wall, aligning their bodies and gently covering her mouth with a finger. Nadia froze at the myriad of sensations pummeling her senses. His uniform, while not rough, had enough texture to make her nipples bud and her breasts grow heavy. The combination of hard thick erection protruding into her abdomen and Sherem’s masculine scent disoriented her. She felt as if she had just fallen into one of her forbidden fantasies.

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Chapter Eleven

“Don’t scream,” he reiterated. “I will take my hand away but first nod to let me know you understand. I did not intend to frighten you, sweetheart, please forgive me.” Nadia nodded. He took his hand away but did not move or say a word. Had his arousal jutting into her tummy in uneven pulses rendered him speechless? The only sound apparent was the slight hum of the engines and their heightened breathing. She could feel the results of his by the warm breeze on her hair and neck just below her left ear. Her tender nipples grew even more sensitized, a result of her rapid, shallow breathes, forcing those buds up and down. With every minute stroke, an electrical charge jolted her belly and lower, increasing the sensation until she felt as if she would shatter. His scent intoxicated with every whiff and the tuft of hair visible above the V of his uniform teased her lips with its springy softness. She had fantasized running her fingers through his chest hair for longer than she could remember. Why didn’t he speak or do something to break this impossible current? She heard a groan but was too lost in rapture to distinguish its origin. He bent slightly and scooped a callused hand under each of her buttocks and began to move, rocking in slow stroking movements. She felt his member expand and harden even more, as he lifted her to burrow into the folds of her womanhood, spreading her wide. Pressure, hot and insistent, began to build within her, coiling in her lower belly tighter and tighter with every contact. Sherem remained fully clothed, how could it feel so intimate, so overwhelming. His rhythm changed to a circular motion with harder, determined strokes. Suddenly the coil, wound too tightly, burst and she gasped out her release in loud staccato moans, burying her face into the place just under his tensely strained jaw. Sherem murmured nonsense words striving to comprehend the previous five minutes. He was overwhelmed, elated, and rock hard. Nadia had come apart in his arms, more responsive than any encounter in his vast experience. And she belonged to him. The thought made his cock harden to bursting. If he did not take her in the next few 86

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moments, he would spew inside his uniform; a condition too embarrassing to contemplate. He cradled Nadia’s limp, sated body and lowered her onto the sleep mat. Her golden skin glowed with a slight coating of moisture, her sleepy eyes narrowed on him beneath thick lashes, and a soft smile beckoned him to her. Her sun-kissed hair fanned out on the pillow, across her shoulders, and coated her breasts playing peek-a-boo with her dusty-rose nipples. A more glorious sight he had never beheld. He slowly released the fastenings on his fitted tunic and drew it off exposing muscled, hair covered chest, corded shoulders and biceps, and a steel banded abdomen. Nadia was grateful she lay on the mat or she would have sunk to the floor in one sizzling puddle. The males of Gattonia were without body hair so the sight of him made for an exotic playground for her eyes and touch. He leveled a knowing grin as he loosed his pants and slid them down, then his boots and stepped out of both, revealing his massive form. She knew he expected some reaction but her vocal cords had frozen. He was shaped like a god. She gulped; a fertility god. Her gaze took in his chest hair, the way it swirled around his nipples in disarray then gathered in arrowed formation down the center of his torso to a large nest at the apex of his thighs, showcasing his erection as it plunged through the inky nest. She wondered how that springy mass would feel pressed against her breasts. Was it silky like his mane or textured like his beard? Now that the moment had arrived, she felt equal parts apprehension and anticipation. He took a step toward her, kneeled on the mat, then came up and over her in one fluid motion reminding her of a panther claiming his prey…or his mate. Tremors skidded up her spine at the thought. He had tried to claim her over three cycles ago when she was just shy of seventeen. Now, two days past her twentieth, he would succeed. She had come to crave him on so many levels she had lost count—and now he would seal her fate for all time. A somewhat belated birthday gift. Would it prove the best or worst she had ever received? The shadow of a smile touched her lips as she felt his weight pin her into place. His waiting finally at an end, caused arrow after arrow of emotion piece his heart. His lips took hers in a searing kiss of possession. His hand covered her breast and squeezed. At her gasp his tongue took her mouth and explored every inch, setting a rhythm that was most likely becoming familiar to her. Instead of lying pliant under him, she ignited into an explosion of lapping fire. Her hands grazed his arms, shoulders, and back; her fingers in turn kissing and searing his skin. He groaned. 87

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“Spread your legs, Nadia.” She complied, bending her knees until she cradled his hips and groin with damp promise. He ran his hand across her slightly rounded abdomen down to the downy cloud covering her entrance and ran his index finger around her opening and then inside. Her creamy juices anointed his finger. Nadia groaned, grinding her hips restlessly striving for more friction; more of what he promised with every gesture. His control hung by a thread, but he must go slowly. Be gentle. Two words no one would ever associate with a Nefari male. Sweat beaded his forehead, neck, and back with the effort it took to hold back. Nadia squirmed under him and he notched one step closer to his warrior self where conquering eclipsed reason. She was lost in herself, he realized—reaching for release. He put two fingers inside her marveling at her narrow passage then circled her clitoris with his calloused thumb. She jumped in response. He continued until her inner walls began to convulse then pressed firmly on the now protruding nub. She screamed her release, calling his name over and over, and he kissed her with a passion he didn’t know he possessed. She was ready for him, hot for him, he could sate himself, take her, use her. He froze. “Sherem, you have stopped, is something wrong? Uh—are we through?” He would not meet her gaze. “No.” He did not recognize his voice. “Sherem, I am not a snowflake. I will not melt or disintegrate. Please love me.” His control evaporated like so much mist. “Ah, but you will melt and disintegrate. I will see to it.” He plunged into her with one driving motion through the taut barrier protecting her innocence. He found her passage so tight he nearly spilled his seed right then. Were all virgins so snug and unyielding? Until Nadia he had only been with females of experience. She screamed with what he hoped signaled rapture, because burrowed deep inside, touching her center, his warrior side took rein. She alone proved more potent than any aphrodisiac. He drove into her wet heat again and again, faster and harder. Wanting to go deep—deep into her very core where he could claim and keep her for all time. His seed burst forth, his orgasm stronger than any he remembered. He arched up above her and screamed his surrender. Never having lain with a virgin, he hoped that in rushing their first coupling Nadia would be more amenable to a second round. For part of what he intended to accomplish that night stood uncompleted. His mark of possession. For the moment, 88

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though, she had yielded and taken him inside her body giving him a home for eternity. He collapsed onto her, holding her close, nestling her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. For the first few moments he could do nothing but feel the aftershocks of mating, but then he noticed that his mate had grown still and silent. When had that occurred? Was she as drained as he? Moisture worked its way down his neck and chest, could it be his sweat or… “Misulu,” he rasped as he propped himself on his elbows to study his mate. What he witnessed leached all satisfaction and triumph from him. Tears coursed down Nadia’s cheekbones and into her hair as she sniffed, swallowing a whimper. It had hurt like Dargon hell. She knew that some virgins experienced more pain than others, and that occasionally females naturally perforated their hymen through athletic sport, feeling no pain at all their first time. She obviously fit into the first category because for a few moments she was certain Sherem had rent her in two. As he had continued to move inside her, the feeling had changed to pleasure-pain and finally more of an itch she needed him to scratch, building toward that amazing pinnacle he had given her before… And then he stopped. After all the love scenes she had read it was—well—a let down. The pain had subsided but left a residue of frustration similar to the moment you take your first large lick off an ice cream cone only to have the round creamy confection tumble to the ground with a sickening splat. Sherem had pulled out. Another regrettable loss, and was now mumbling a barrage of apologies. “Please cease your tears, misulu, it will be my undoing,” he groaned, miserably. Nadia blinked and focused on his fathomless dark eyes etched in pain. “Your undoing?” Nadia blinked. She hadn’t been really crying from the pain so much as the overwhelming experience of finally being one with Sherem. “It was not that bad; it only hurt for a moment. I must have had a thick barrier, but it doesn’t burn any longer. I am fine, truly. It was just somewhat, uh…anticlimactic after all I’ve read about lovemaking.” Her words ricocheted through his ego like a POD set on destroy; its multiple blasts taking out every target in sight with effortless precision. He had pleasured hundreds of females multiple times and learned many lessons along the way. Yet with his 89

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own mate, whom he had chosen over all others, he measured “not that bad”, and “anticlimactic”. He cleared his throat, deciding to focus on her last words. “You have read books on making love?” “Well, of course. I am Gattonian. We are scholars, curious about all things. You are familiar with our culture,” she reminded him, growing a little uncomfortable at his sudden focus. “You are familiar with the Kama Sutra?” he probed carefully. “Umm, only the first book. Cat thought it would be educational after all the romances I’ve read.” “These romances contain graphic descriptions of the sexual act?” “Well, of course,” she stated a little defensively, “the characters in it fall madly and passionately in love and the natural extension of that love is, umm, you know.” Her entire body shaded from embarrassment and no wonder. They had just made love for the first time; she was divest of clothing, and currently engaged in a sexually explicit discussion with said first time lover who remained magnificently naked. She felt admittedly awkward in exposing her secret obsession of reading material and groaned inwardly. What would he think of her now? “And after all this ah…research and hours of study you still refer to the act of making love as “umm, you know”?” If Sherem hadn’t been lying across the only cover available, she would have dove under it and not resurfaced until she starved. Why was he behaving this way? She felt as if he was interrogating her for a supposed crime. He smiled and his eyes lit with an unholy glint that could not bode well. “So, you believe my technique could stand improving.” The comment was more statement than question. “Well, not the technique precisely; as far as I could tell, you handled everything in the correct manner. I suppose I thought that coming from a warrior race and with your, uh, considerable exploits, the experience would have been more riveting.” “Riveting.” “Umm.” He had made her squirm enough, he supposed, but he thoroughly enjoyed seeing her flustered and her barriers down. The time had come to reassure her. 90

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He leaned over, running a battle callused finger across her collarbone, just under her left breast, then down her tummy before speaking. “I have never lain with a virgin before, and strove to take you with as much care as I could muster. I am deeply sorry if I caused you undo discomfort with my clumsy actions. I promise that you will experience no more pain only unrelenting pleasure from this moment forward.” He brought his right thigh over hers, cupped the back of her head, and began making love to her lush lips over and over until both of them panted for more. He paused to study her closely. Her eyes were dream-dazed, her pulse fluttering rapidly, and her cheeks flushed with desire. She wanted him again but after the pain of her initiation…and to give her a sample of her own medicine, he decided to withhold his attentions. They would not make love that night but neither would he be parted from her. And in the morning, after a leisurely bath… “Not tonight, however, for you will be sore from the tear of your hymen and previously unused muscles—and I find that I am quite sated and content to sleep.” A boldfaced lie, of course. He rose and vanished into the clean room only to emerge a moment later with a cloth which he used to wipe gently between her legs after spreading them wide and looking his fill. He threw the damp scrap onto the nightstand and slid in beside her, informing, “From now on I will share your mat, so as to accustom you to my touch and presence.” “Wait,” she ordered looking disgruntled and slightly offended. “I did not give you permission to enter my chambers, or take my virginity, or share my mat. Until I do I suggest that you return to your own.” Sherem hid his amusement behind a mask of innocent confusion. The haughty, cool expression firmly affixed made her look like a regal queen addressing a serf. No longer fooled by her demeanor, he nodded and rose. “As you wish, Princess,” he said magnanimously, slipping into his trousers and boots, then donning his shirt. “I only thought that since we are so comfortable, it seems a shame to move elsewhere.” “I am sure you will be as comfortable in your own chambers as you obviously are in mine,” she encouraged, a satisfied glint shining within her amber depths, believing she had won. “Only you can release the privacy lock to let me exit,” he advised, seemingly resigned. It would not do to let her know he could over-ride any panel command; he might need it later to bring her into line. 91

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“Panel, over-ride privacy command and open.” The panel silently complied. Sherem bent low over Nadia, she believed for a good night kiss. Then he scooped her naked form up, coverings and all and made for the exit. Nadia yelped and sputtered, speechless for a moment then shrieked, “What do you think you are doing, I told you to go.” She squirmed in an effort to free herself…and Sherem fought the urge to laugh. He had not felt so amused in cycles. “I am only complying with your wishes. I think you are right, I believe we will be more comfortable on my mat. It is larger and will facilitate freer lust sport.” Sherem strode briskly down the corridor, holding Nadia high on his chest as if she weighed no more than a feather, grinning despite…or because of her protests. “If you wish to keep Dakar and Tula from observing your state of undress, I’d suggest you keep quiet. If on the other hand you want to announce your new status as my mate then feel free to resume your happy tirade.” She drew a fist back to plant a well-deserved punch when he softly advised, “Put that arm around my neck right now, or I will drop you and take the comforter with me.” Nadia froze. They were passing Dakar’s rooms but Tula’s was at the other end of the ship. “You believe Tula is with Dakar?” Sherem shrugged. “They were together when I left to come to your chambers. I have a feeling they remain so.” The implication was clear. Nadia felt happy for her friend but wondered at Sherem’s blasé comment. “This doesn’t bother you?” She lifted her head to study his expression. A smile flitted across his mouth. “No, misulu, I have the female I want and desire no other. I am beginning to believe that perhaps my brother and Tula deserve one another. Oomph. Watch the elbow, sweet one.”

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Chapter Twelve

Sherem ducked into a private lift Nadia had never before noticed. “Take us,” Sherem murmured and Nadia felt them ascend rapidly at a blur but before she could lose her evening meal, they came to a stop. The panel opened to reveal a huge chamber overflowing in lush accoutrements and Nadia gasped her amazement. She squirmed and this time Sherem released her, allowing her to explore. She kept the comforter securely in place, covering her from neck to toes. Nadia’s chambers included two rooms for sleeping and hygiene. They were a cross between function and comfort with a few items of luxury like the cut-jeweled lamps on either side of her vanity and a cozy fireplace, both superfluous with no real purpose, but for the aesthetic pleasure it gave the occupant. Sherem’s chambers, however, were opulent, even by Gattonian standards. He had a living area with lounges and chairs of the same material as his over tunics, pants and boots only the colors of his rooms were bursting with primary colors and rich, complementary pastels. Very Gattonian in feel and style. The carpets littering the floor and walls were of the highest quality Jasperian silk. They muted the regular lighting imbedded in the walls, creating a warm, intimate retreat. Large pillows in front of the floor to ceiling holographic fireplace completed the room. Nadia was speechless. She made her way to the sleeping chamber to find a huge raised platmat with multiple comforters and a built-in technology unit. Dressers and vanity below large mirrors extended from an adjacent wall and murals of both Gattonian and Nefari landscapes decorated every available wall space. She snuck a glance over her shoulder to catch Sherem lounging in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and ankles crossed, tracking her with an inscrutable expression that gave nothing of his intentions away. Realization dawned. He had done all of this for her. Warm, thick pleasure spread though her like honey. How long had he planned to have her aboard his ship and in his chambers. Had all this been accomplished in the days after her visit? That would mean 93

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he knew from the beginning he intended to help her and only delayed in order to do this for her. Overcome by the implications she escaped to the clean room…only to recognize the bathing pool as the one he had immersed them both after her ordeal. He must have moved her to her current quarters after injecting the sleeping potion. This room, too, was spacious with a corner free-standing shower built for two. She sighed. She’d expected a stark, utilitarian warrior’s quarters not this luxurious, spacious…Nadia paused and cocked her head in consternation then marched into the main room searching for another panel. “Where is it?” “Where is what, misulu?” Sherem answered uncertainly. His chambers had been radically modified to please her. What had he forgotten? “The place you keep your weapons and equipment. You would not allot yourself quarters where you couldn’t readily defend yourself.” A half smile lit his eyes as he entered the sleeping chambers and walked to the massive platmat. “Weapon chest, open.” The entire pedestal opened revealing a cache of weapons larger than any Nadia had ever glimpsed, all neatly placed. Enough to take out a small planet, from the looks of it. At Nadia’s incredulous stare, Sherem raised a shoulder and said, “I like to be prepared.” Next, he crossed the room to the mural of Gattonia. “Safe-room test, J.” The mural, about twelve feet wide and ten feet tall, opened exposing a large area filled with a miniature ship. “It’s a POD kept travel ready at all times. This room is indestructible and impenetrable; the only voice that can open it is mine. Safe-room, the following voice is allotted the highest security and access commands, memorize.” He motioned for her to identify herself. Nadia cleared her throat; unsure of whether her voice would work and croaked, “Hello, J. My name is Princess Nadia of the House of Ra and Province of Gattonia, uh, how do you do?” “I am perfect, Princess Nadia of the House of Baraden and Province of Nefar. Your voice has been stored. Thank you and have a nice day.” The panel closed. Nadia began to giggle both at Sherem’s audacity and also at the program itself. “You did that on purpose, Barbarian of Baraden.” Giggling even harder at the title that so fit him. And he’s so polite,” she commented through fits of hick-ups. 94

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Sherem grinned and shrugged, inordinately pleased he had made her smile. “If anything happens to the ship, do not evacuate with the others, come here, and wait in the POD. It has its own life-support system and can carry as many as six passengers. I will join you as soon as I can. If you find yourself floating in space, tell J to jettison the protective carton and lay in coordinates for Gattonia. Nefar may be unstable for a time. Wait for my parents to arrive to introduce yourself. They will take care of you and the babe, if you have conceived.” Nadia’s giggles came to an abrupt halt with both guilt and what his instructions implied. “What are you saying? Are you trying to scare me? This is a star-ship; no one but another star-ship would dare attack, and how many others can there be in this vast universe? Only the major powers have them.” “Have you forgotten about the Dargons and the myriad of other advanced and sometimes depraved species? Believe me, Nadia, space travel is not safe, but I will guard you with my life along with my warriors, you need not be overly concerned.” As if the statement was prophetic, sirens began to sound. “Speak Jorge,” Sherem barked into the band at his wrist. “Trouble. Space raiders, we believe. They tried to catch us unaware by taking out our south cargo entrance. They were only partially successful.” “What of the shields? How were they able to penetrate them?” “I do not have an answer, commander; and it scares the skin off me.” What he neglected to voice, Nadia knew, spelled sabotage. Sherem’s ground-eating stride took him to his clothes cove in less than a second. He donned a deep burnished copper, one piece, metallic suit that covered everything, including his eyes and threw a similar suit to her. He looked like a giant, spooky scepter, and the picture he presented momentarily frightened Nadia. It was as if a death-shadow had swallowed him. When he accessed the cache of weapons and grabbed two hand blazers and several lazulite blades, sheathing them inconspicuously, she took a step back as he approached her. “This is not a game, Nadia. Put that suit on right away. It locks automatically and cannot be breached. Do not move from this spot. I will return when the danger is past.” He vanished out the panel before she could even wish him luck. She looked dubiously at the body sheath and cringed. She let the comforter pool around her feet and 95

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slipped into the suit. It felt like skin and while not quite see through, the shadow-sheath hugged her every curve and valley. She almost giggled, of course it was skin; it was peeled from the Kameri serpent. She recalled how Sherem’s skin felt next to hers, the friction of his chest hair brushing her breasts, and groaned. Could she go to her chambers for clothing or fit into Sherem’s and put the body armor over it? She recognized defeat when presented to her. She refused to secure the headpiece, as yet, but sat down on his mat to decide her next move. Just as she sat, she jumped up and ordered, “J, open the weapons chest.” If they were in danger, she would be armed. Nadia had not only trained with her brother and Prolinc but had also benefited from tips from Cat and Dee learning many dirty tricks that would hopefully come in handy. The drawer slid silently open and she grabbed the only weapon that looked familiar. It was similar to the blazer she had trained with and she set it on disarm. She didn’t want to take the chance of killing someone on their side. The wait seemed interminable, listening for the sound of combat, wanting to join in the battle for the ship. Wanting to protect Sherem, no matter how ludicrous the sentiment. As she stood to leave, someone banged on her panel. “Who is it?” she demanded. “Part of the prince’s guard, my lady. He sends for you. The battle, though well fought, left him wounded. He is calling for you.” Nadia paused, digesting the message. For one, she doubted anyone could get the advantage over Sherem. His battles and exploits were legend. Two, if he was wounded he would certainly not send an entire guard for her. And finally, she doubted he had a prince’s guard. He was too much the barbarian warrior to tolerate it. Bran and Dakar were all he needed at his side. In every romance novel she had read where someone, whether it be someone the heroine knew or not, wanted to take her to the wounded hero’s side; it spelled set-up. Her heart began beating double-time; her mind racing right along with it. She set her weapon on destroy. Sherem was right; this was not a game. What would happen if she just ignored their summons and disappeared into the ‘carton’, as Sherem called it? She could never identify the culprits, or determine if they were a part of the crew or from the raiders. Moreover, if they were dressed as she, the COM record unit would, most likely, not be able to identify them. But of one thing she was certain—J could. 96

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“J, allow forced entrance and record,” she whispered. “Princess Nadia, I must advise caution…” She cut him off. “J--just do as I ask.” She heard grumbles from outside the panel. “My Lady, I am afraid that time is of the essence. We must insist.” Came the summons, once again. She detected at least two voices arguing in hushed urgency. Did they sound just a bit panicked? Nadia made her decision at that moment. She jumped beneath the covers, hiding her suit and replied. “I can’t believe he sent for me. He knows I am not feeling well. How dare he disturb me with his petty injuries. Tell him to come here if he wants to see me. I am a princess, after all, and have a delicate constitution. Now go away and let me get some rest.” She waited, feeling both amused and adrenalin charged. She braced herself. After a few moments of silence she thought she had succeeded—then the panel failed and two burley males in Nefari uniform swanked in. She had never seen them before. They held their hand blazers laxly at their sides in a mildly threatening manner but were not dressed for battle, and the Nefari dagger, normally present at their side, was missing. “I am afraid that the prince’s orders were clear, but not to worry, we’ll carry you if you’re too weak to walk.” “As if,” Nadia snorted. When they advanced into the room Nadia shot her blazer through the covers and disarmed one intruder before they realized anything amiss. While the male screamed that his hand was gone, another tried to stun her through the comforter. It didn’t feel great but it failed to incapacitate her. She fired her next shot at his arm but missed and he lunged for her. She rolled to the far side of the platmat and used it for cover. He grabbed at her, barely missing leaving her no choice, she aimed for his head. He went down as warriors flooded Sherem’s quarters. Nadia sank to the floor; surely the entire ship was not filled with traitors. “Nadia,” Sherem bellowed. She smiled. He sounded like a mother bear coming to the defense of her young. A telepathic probe brushed against her thoughts and she immediately sealed her mind. It was the unknown telepath, once again. Her flesh tightened in reaction. Sherem tore through the Nefari warriors blocking his path to Nadia. The lift to his private quarters was concealed, and only someone with the plans or those of his first 97

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level crew knew of its location. So how had it been breached so effortlessly? He practically tripped over two burly males at the entrance to his sleeping chambers. Had Nadia escaped to the carton, as she should have? Across three layers of his crew, their eyes met and held. She was safe. “Norgoz, report,” Sherem barked. Norgoz, one of Jorge’s most trusted officers, stood over the downed males. “They are not familiar to me, sir. Perhaps they are from Engineering or Safety and Support. MTEs are on the way.” Sherem nodded knowing he left out the clearest probability—that they were not members of the Portender at all, just dressed as such. “Remove those two to the secured Med Center on lower level 6 and clear the room. I will debrief the princess myself. Inform Jorge I will get back to him when I have finished here. In moments, the room was cleared, leaving in its wake blood-soaked carpets, splattered walls, and ceiling. Nadia shrugged, an impish smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Sherem studied her closely, mesmerized by the way the Kameri leather hugged every inch of her body, leaving nothing at all to the imagination. Noting, too, the tazer burn on her right shoulder. He reached out to touch the area then reached for the opening of her suit and lowered it exposing her shoulder. A choc-tea colored bruise the size of his fist marred the perfection of her satiny skin. So delicate, he realized. The shot should not have left a mark. Nadia cleared her throat noisily bringing his gaze back to hers. “What happened, misulu?” “They told me you were wounded and wanted to see me.” He nodded for her to continue. “I knew they were lying so I armed myself and waited.” “That was wise of you but you should have remained hidden until I arrived and released you myself.” Nadia cocked her head to one side, as if confused, then her expression cleared. “I meant I waited in your sleeping chambers. I got under the covers and waited.” A red haze spread across his vision and filled his ears with a pulsating roar that all but blotted out his next words. “You thought that hiding under the covers would prevent detection from armed intruders?” “Of course not.” She crossed her arms in front of her and began tapping her foot. “I wanted to see the people stupid enough to believe I would fall for a line like theirs. I 98

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also needed to know if they were part of your crew or the pirates. If I had hidden in the carton, we would never have been sure. In addition, they knew I was in here and if I had disappeared, they would have torn the place apart looking for me; in doing so, figured out that you have a hidden room somewhere off your chambers. Since you told me it was important no one know of its existence, I decided to stay in the open and fight it out.” Nadia sounded very pleased with her solution, apparently unaware of the growing inferno Sherem fought to control. “So instead of taking cover to better protect yourself, you chose to relax on my mat?” Sherem’s voice slurred to molten gravel. “No! You are not listening—“ “I am listening well enough to know that you put your life in danger when protection was only a panel away.” He knew he was out of control but could not stop. “What if they had shot you? Hells fire, they did shoot you!” “Concealed as I was under the covers, they couldn’t have harmed me.” “What if they had aimed for your head?” He fired back. “Why would they do that, it was simply another kidnapping attempt. I would do no good to them dead.” “What if they had simply missed,” he began. “I hadn’t really thought of—“ “Before you managed a lucky hit?” he finished. “I assure you luck had nothing to do—“ “What if they had overpowered you?” “You assured me that no one could breach the body suit.” “Only when the headpiece is in place and locked. They could have peeled you out of it in seconds.” “Well, you left out that part.” Nadia mumbled, turning bright crimson, obviously recalling her state of undress. Sherem followed her train of thought and traced his gaze over every delectable inch of her. Without under-clothing, the sheath clung like her own skin, changing her from amber to textured deep bronze similar to snake skin. He broke out in a cold sweat as his manhood grew hot and hard as a red poker. He refused to mention that had she wanted to surprise them to get off the first shot, simply standing in front of them would have accomplished it nicely. 99

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Nadia’s nipples budded under Sherem’s perusal and she wanted to cover herself lest he realize how he affected her. Her gaze collided with Sherem’s and desire flashed between them stronger than a bolt of lightening. Nadia had not been quite honest with him concerning their first bout of lovemaking for though it had hurt more than anticipated; she was more overwhelmed than complacent, and anxious to try it again. Sherem’s mouth kicked up slightly as he softly ordered, “Take off your armor, Nadia, I would check you for further damage.” He honestly did not know whether his anger at her, his concern for her well being, or blatant animal instinct to bend her to his will, rode him the hardest. He only knew he had to be in her, dominate her, and punish her for risking herself and not following his directives. “Uh, Sherem, I think you should see to your crew and maybe, uh, interrogate the prisoners…” “First, there is something I must teach you, misulu. Never again will you put yourself in harms way. Protecting you has become my first priority, surpassing that of my own safety and that of my crew. You must have a care.” With each word carefully delivered in subdued modulation she was at once mesmerized and cautious, even more so noting the determined gleam in his eyes. “Oh! You would blame me for your lack of concentration and the consequences to your crew? I will not buy that threat so don’t even begin to propose it.” “Do not think to deflect my purpose, Nia mine, for it will commence.” Without giving her a moment to react, he struck; snaking his hands around her waist and tossing her face down across the sleeping mat. Holding her neck in place he took her body armor and demonstrated what he had alluded to before. That it could be peeled off in one fluid motion. Leaving her totally exposed to him—helpless. She found the mixture of fear and anticipation a powerful aphrodisiac. He grabbed her hands and pulled them above her head securing them with one hand and glided his other down her spine raising chills and a shudder as he reached the crack of her mons. She could feel her uterus contract excreting the thick proof of her arousal. She squirmed in protest. He dipped a long finger into her essence, swirled it around her clitoris, then up to her anus where he plunged it in. She yelped in a combination of surprise, discomfort and erotic bliss. He found a place deep within her and began toying with it, circling until her contractions built toward climax. Then pulled out. 100

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She opened her mouth to voice her outrage when he leaned over her and whispered against her ear. “Move your hands when I remove mine and I will lash them to the headboard.” “Stop, Sherem. I will not allow you to take me in anger.” “I am your mate and will take in any manner I see fit in order to achieve your abeyance,” he stated. “You are not my mate so you have no right.” Nadia pushed up seeking to unbalance him and he growled as he hooked an arm around her waist holding her in place, trapped her hands, once again, and murmured unfamiliar words as her hands sunk into the mattress, holding her immobile. “Release me, barbarian. What have you done? What is this contraption?” “One that will hold you until you know the one you belong to.” He placed several pillows under her belly exposing her to his perusal. He spread her wide, bent down and began lapping her entrance, sucking and nipping. The combination of arousal and fear had her reacting in a way foreign to her nature—or what she always believed to be her nature. Gone was the self-contained, dispassionate princess and in her place a raging, cornered hellcat fighting his and her own desires. He replaced his mouth with his cock and surged to the core of her where he paused, plastering himself shoulder to thigh, panting as if in the midst of a marathon. “You are mine,” he bit out as he pulled out and thrust hard into her once again. And then plunged into her hard again and again, reaching further, deeper into her passage until she was screaming and begging for release. Stars burst from behind her eyes in a furious detonation of euphoria. As her tears soaked into the mat she felt his shaft at the entrance of her other opening even as the aftermath of her orgasm continued and somehow intensified. Equal parts ashamed and aroused as he pushed the head of his arousal into that forbidden place; she struggled against the pain and pleasure of his possession. How dare he seek to conquer her in this manner. “Stop struggling or this will prove even harder for both of us. I will impose my will, Nia, and you will submit even if I have to use dominance, discomfort, and carnal desire. By the time I am through, you will beg for my dominion, my weight and my rule over you. For I will not stop until it is so.” He worked his way into her gradually with measured strokes and Nadia hated his ruthless demonstration of his power over her even as she craved it. He was tearing her in two and she screamed in both indignant rage and 101

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seething hunger. His hard length into her anus felt different, full, erotic, forbidden. He drove into her for what seemed like eternity giving no quarter…and no release. “Please,” she begged. “Please what, misulu,” he demanded. “Please, Sherem, don’t do this. Don’t take my dignity…my…” She stopped as a sob clogged the rest of her plea. “Misulu, no.” He changed his pace and began circling and pinching her elongated clitoris until she cried out in relief and completion. “Forgive me,” he rasped before he bit into her leaving the mark that would prove her his and she screamed as another orgasm stronger than the first ripped through her. He murmured a phrase that released her hands and rolled them to their side holding her fast. Sherem wondered what insanity had possessed him to treat his mate in such a barbaric manner. Everything she had ever accused him of proved true. He had never lost such utter control of himself and in such a brutish sexual display of ownership. He pulled her even closer nuzzling his face into her neck and took in her scent; the scent of their sex intertwined and the slight hint of blood mixed in with her sweat. He grew hard all over again. “Nia…I…” What could he possibly say to make things right? Sherem gently caressed her shoulder and ran his hand down her arm, kissing and laving the bruised and bleeding mating tattoo. She relaxed and rolled her head back, giving him access to her neck and shoulder. He whispered endearments, offering entreaties for her pardon. She merely groaned in response. The COM speaker chose that moment to buzz, signaling a message. Both froze until it buzzed again. Sherem cleared his throat. “I must go, the prisoners must be interrogated.” Nadia turned onto her back, studying him through slitted eyes. “What is happening, Sherem? Who attacked the Portender and why would two of your crew come after me?” Sherem gave her a lop-sided smile though his expression remained somber and contrite. “That is exactly what I intend to discover.” His voice dropped, becoming compelling. “Then we will…talk, misulu…at length.” 102

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“Wait,” she said, scrambling off the mat, exposing her voluptuous curves for his perusal. “I want to come along, it pertains to me too. In one week I have endured two kidnapping attempts. Don’t you think it’s time I learned why?” Sherem paused and then replied, “You may accompany me and listen on one condition.” Here it comes, Nadia thought. “If I tell you to leave and return to our chambers, you will not argue but leave immediately.” “Our chambers?” she questioned. “Nadia, yes or no,” he cut in. She sighed, “Oh, all right. I agree.” “First you will re-don your armor under outer clothing. I want you protected.” He went to his dresser and pulled out an exquisite Nefari robe of pearl velvet. The ankle length, sleeves, and tapered design fit perfectly and she wondered how many other females had worn it before her. She smiled, at least she knew Tula was not one of them, it would have swallowed her.

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Chapter Thirteen

Nadia and Sherem arrived at the interrogation level to alarms, running security personnel, and MTEs. “Return to our rooms,” Sherem commanded. “Not right now,” Nadia replied. Sherem turned to her, incredulous. “You promised you would obey me.” “And I will—just as soon as we find out what has occurred,” Nadia reassured. “Does everything have an out clause you can utilize at your discretion?” The question was innocuous enough but the very air surrounding them became charged, as if he was about to spring some elaborate trap…again. Nadia squirmed and chose her words carefully. “There are more important concerns to be dealt with at the moment, but afterward I will do your bidding. Please Sherem, I would stay with you.” Something in his demeanor changed as he stepped closer and ran a finger along her jaw line. His gaze pinned hers and then dropped to her mouth, he bent his head toward hers— “Commander, er, your Highness. I regret to report that the prisoners are dead. One from a fatal head wound,” he said eyeing Nadia warily, “the other from apparent suicide. The Captain awaits.” The unwanted interruption acted as a bucket of cold water. Sherem straightened and answered slowly without taking his eyes from her. “Tell the Captain I am on my way.” Sherem lifted his hand and gently put her hair behind an ear before addressing her. “Misulu, I do not want you to witness these males. I implore that you return to our chamber and await me. I will not be long. Then I will share all I learned with you. Will you do this for me?” Nadia nodded soundlessly, turned and floated down the corridor. Sherem smiled in satisfaction. He enjoyed the faraway look he put in her eyes and made a mental note to use honeyed requests in place of orders to get and keep her 104

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acquiescence. Had she forgiven his barbaric display of dominance and accepted him as her mate? He sighed and entered the detention cell where Jorge, Specialist Jenkins and MTE Rollins waited. “Tell me,” he ordered without preamble. “Bran, I need you in detention,” he mind spoke. “Unseen,” he added. “In one moment.” “No one touched them, Your Highness—“ “Sherem,” Sherem corrected. He had twelve tittles, twelve too many as far as he was concerned. “Sherem,” Jenkins corrected. “One was DOA but the other just stood there, vibrating and in general, looking wired on adrenaline. Then he looked me in the eye, smiled, and dropped to the floor, dead.” “Did you notice whether his eyes were dilated? Did he seem disoriented or lucid?” “No, Your High—Sherem, sir, I did not but they were both sweating profusely emitting a pungent odor and the blood vessels on their faces seemed swollen, bulging. I’ve never seen the like before. It was, uh, quite spooky all in all.” “Your hypothesis, Rollins?” Sherem asked, turning to the MTE to hide his bemusement at Jenkins description, but as one of his finest and most seasoned warriors, his reaction warranted note. The MTE shrugged. “Could be just about anything from their body’s reaction to stress…or drugs; an autopsy is the only course if we want confirmation.” “Do so immediately and compare it to the first supposed suicide. Twice we have been set upon and twice the captives found death more appealing than interrogation. I believe it is clear that both incidents were ordered by the same person or persons. I have not known of many so diabolically ruthless that they inspire death in the face of failure.” As Sherem spoke, Rollins went to the COM and ordered the autopsies. “It must be someone with power, both absolute and far reaching, but who? I’ve not heard of anyone fitting that description since we assassinated that warlord on Saxus. “Sherem, do you think these attacks are linked to whoever is trying to kill you?” Rollins asked. “Not the brightest bean in the bag, if I may say so,” Bran commented wryly, moving to Sherem’s side. 105

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Sherem’s face split into a grin wholly inappropriate considering the question. Rollins flushed a deep red at his reaction. “I apologize, I was thinking of something, er, amusing.” He cleared his throat. “I think, very possibly that the two are related, and the one behind the theft of Angels Gate, as well.” Jorge whistled. “I forgot about that. This situation is growing increasingly convoluted. There is also the question of the Princess. Someone has twice now attempted her abduction.” Cold dread and something like fear infiltrated Sherem’s being. What in all heavens was happening? At first Sherem believed Nadia’s kidnapping no more than a ruse to inflame his jealousy beyond bearing causing him to kill his brother or eliminate both of them. But again they sought to take her from him and this time made it clear the mastermind was not Dakar. So what was the real motive—a spurned suitor, revenge against Zorroc or himself, or a misconception that the affections of Nadia were linked to the Assyllis agreement? Sherem’s blood ran cold remembering the conversation long ago where too much jive, frustration, and loss of face caused him to spurt the ridiculous allegation that he could want Nadia other than for herself. Namely some stupid flower. Surely no one had taken his blustering seriously. Sherem shook his head to clear it but the question crept up his spine like a deadly viper. Who were the other players sitting with him? That evening every dignitary, leading family, military officer and eligible female had been present from all four provinces of Ganz. Along with several off-world groups. He could not recall his companions at the table and near by but he would remember if he heard their names. “We have yet to determine the identity of the cruiser and how they were able to breach our defenses. I will begin there.” Sherem nodded. “Very good…and Jorge, any leads on who switched the vile?” Sherem asked, trying to clear his mind of Nadia being stolen from his side. “Not yet, I was studying the tapes when we were attacked. I’ll go now and continue, with your permission.” “Good idea. Rollins, let me know as soon as the results from the autopsies are complete. Jenkins, I want a list of wounded and killed as soon as possible. Both sides.” “Let’s adjourn to my quarters, Bran. From there, I will summon my brother and review all we have learned. We have to determine what in Hells flame is going on! First they target me and now it appears they have focused on my mate.” 106

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“She is no yet your mate,” Bran reminded him. “She carries my mark; the rest is mere technicality,” he answered a touch smugly. “The ship that attacked was a star cruiser similar to the one used to abduct my brother and mate. It should carry a maximum crew of thirty, yet I would swear that at least one hundred males invaded our ship. What was your sense?” “I lost count. It was not my priority at the time but I believe I took down more than the Horta attack. Could not some have transhifted from an alternate point?” Sherem froze in mid-step and cocked his head toward Bran. Knowing for near certainty that they had traitors yet on board, the possibility was great. “An excellent point. We need that body count.” “I understand your brother is working on the exact number. I am curious, though, about one point. The attackers were attired much like your own warriors. How do you differentiate in the midst of battle?” “Nefari warriors, for the most part, employ traditional weaponry but even more telling is our fighting style. It is easily recognizable and clearly separates us from all others. For the few that choose weapons such as blazers, they are tuned to recognize a signal threaded in to our uniforms and not discharge unless override is activated. It helps relax our fighters and crew to know they cannot accidentally hit a comrade. Which poses another question. How do you know the difference? Scent?” “Yes. The marauders all consumed the same meal before invading the Portender but with even that aside; I know the scent of every crewmember aboard,” Bran responded in a blasé manner. “Can’t that be nauseating at times, especially when you have a large number of unclean bodies?” Bran chuckled in his mind before answering. “No more than you would at seeing a particularly unattractive female. And sometimes the stronger the scent, the stronger my craving to feed.” “Ah, in that case, I have an assignment for you when we conclude the meeting with my brother.” As they traveled through corridors to the jet-quik that would take them to Sherem’s quarters, Sherem marveled at the ease with which he and Bran conversed. It seemed that they had known each other for many cycles instead of merely half of one. 107

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“Could you wait out here until my brother arrives? I would like a few words with Nadia.” Bran materialized and answered with his largest wolf-grin. Sherem walked in to find Nadia fresh from her bath and slipping into the gown he had presented to her. The thought of only one thin barrier between his hands and her body left his fingers restless and itching. He wanted to make love to her right then with gentle thoroughness; and for days on end but first he must secure their safety. And they obviously were not safe on the boarder between galaxies. Someone knew their location and Sherem believed it only a matter of time before a greater force arrived to engage them. The cruiser and transhifted invaders could only have been launched by a starship within close proximity. The final binding of the Nefar Mating Ritual would have to be postponed until his unforeseen enemy had been dispatched. She sent a furtive glance over her shoulder, no doubt wondering how long he had been studying her. Covering his disquiet with a grin, he sauntered across the room until he stood no more than a hairs breath away. “You look stunning, misulu. The gown suits you beautifully; it makes your skin glow like an ethereal spirit, too lovely to touch.” He glided his hands lightly over her collarbone, shoulders and down her arms to her ribcage, his thumbs barely glazing the underside of her breasts. She visibly shuddered. “I see it doesn’t stop you,” she commented softly. She loved the robe and the way it floated across her skin. Secured by fasteners that played peek-a-boo with her skin from her neck all the way down to her navel made her feel exotic…and sensual. The thought of who it had been fashioned for still wriggled, however. “The gown is beautiful, Sherem, how did it come to be in your possession?” He smiled knowingly. He knew she was jealous of the ones who had come before her. Come being the operative word. Zazu, the barbarian was arrogant. “I had it made for you. It is the daywear of our females. The style is comfortable and flattering…and provides easy access for sexual encounters.” Nadia chose to ignore the last comment and asked skeptically, “How did you know my size, it is as if it was designed specifically for my figure.” It stunned her that the gown did not fit so snuggly as to hold her, rather flowed gently over her skin, caressing every inch of her like a million soft touches. How had he accomplished such a feat? 108

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His mouth quirked up at one side as he raised an eyebrow, tangling his gaze with hers; he may as well have shouted his vast expertise with the female body, gloating at the ideal fit. She wanted to kick his shin, a desire she had never wished upon another a being. He lifted her chin with the touch of a finger then softly brushed his lips across hers once, and then again and again, until she was quite dizzy. Maybe if she were more experienced sexually, she would be able to remain unmoved, but her heart beat out of control, her breaths were hitched and shallow, and all she wanted involved melting into him…again. He deftly loosened a couple of ties and his hand cupped and fondled her breast in less than a breath. His arm snaked around her waist to hold her upright while he worked his magic on her budded nipple. Then broke the contact, leaving her bereft. “The Nefar male dresses his LM in the way that pleases him. I had an entire wardrobe designed for you. The symbolism is clear. Each outfit encloses you in my protection as my body enfolds you—shielding, possessing and proclaiming to all my ownership of you.” “That sounds overly sexist even for a Nefari Prince. You cannot own me, I am not a possession, Your Hiney; I am a Princess.” Nadia crossed her arms under her breasts and studied the belligerent, unrepentant block of testosterone before her. How did this keep happening to her? One minute floating in sensual heaven, wrapped in his voice and touches, and the next trussed up in a spider’s web of dominance getting ready for her last meal—or rather his last meal. She would ring his neck if her hands could span the steel corded column. “And what is an ‘ellem’?” “The acronym for lifemate and tradition dictates that I purchase you from your guardian, in this case your brother. After we locate him, he and I will negotiate a suitable separation gift and the final step of the mating ritual will be complete and you—” He decided not to mention the ceremony required to make the bonding complete. “—will then belong to me,” he finished with great satisfaction. Nadia contemplated the attempts on his life wondering whether anyone had considered the female angle. Surely, half of that population must want him dead for his unrepentant chauvinistic views on females and their place in the universe. “You have forgotten one thing in your zeal to buy me, oh mighty warrior.” Sherem eyed her warily. Strategically, it might have been wise to keep that part of the ritual from her, as well. All, until a few moments ago, had been falling neatly into 109

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place. He had ruined her beyond repair, she had accepted him as her lover, bore his mating tattoo and had allowed him to clothe her. All of her bridges leading away from him had been incinerated; she just hadn’t yet realized it. Still, he could afford to be magnanimous—and circumspect. Especially considering the view she afforded him with her now gaping gown partially exposing an aroused areola. There existed a very old saying. It is not over until it is over. He decided to disarm her with his nearness. “And what is that, the light to my night? I will correct it immediately,” he rasped softly into her ear. Nadia seemed to sway into him before she caught herself. “My brother can’t sell what he doesn’t own, and, he won’t give me to you to mate if I do not agree. It is my permission you need to garner; my brother will go along with my decision. If you have learned anything in the last three cycles, surely it is that,” she challenged. “That was then, misulu—before you boarded my ship, shared my mat, wore my mark, and donned my possessions. I am an honorable male and take my obligations seriously. I have taken you and accepted you as mine. Your brother understands honor and will not keep you from me. It is over, little one. You are well and truly mine.” Nadia stared, disbelief warring with inevitability. Her skin leached of color. “You trapped me. You had this whole thing planned from the beginning and have no scruples whatsoever. Deny it!” “Why? I have none and less than none where you are concerned. But as to having planned our current situation; I would never expose you to danger, Nia mine. That you must believe. “Something evil surrounds us, for though I cannot see from which direction it approaches, I can feel it with every fiber of my being. And when it reveals itself I will not be merciful. What is mine I hold be it my crew, my ship, or you, sweet one— especially you.”

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Chapter Fourteen

“Where is Nadia? I thought she wanted to be included in our meeting. She seemed most insistent when I ran into her earlier,” Dakar queried. “She is resting,” Sherem answered gruffly. He should not have pushed her so hard sexually then turned around and stated her position so baldly. When she insisted on going back to her former quarters he refused, telling her they now housed Bran. When she told him she’d stay with Tula, he informed her that Dakar and she were now sharing a mat and would not enjoy company. With livid determination she demanded her own clothing returned, only to learn they had been destroyed. Her parting salvo included an ear-spitting shriek and a punch to his gut, which had all the impact of a fly hitting titanium. She finally retreated to their sleeping chamber locking the panel behind her. He could override her command, of course, but decided she deserved the small victory. Dakar eyed him suspiciously. He hoped Nadia did not make her misery clear or Dakar might take the place of Zorroc and act as her protector. He and his brother had just reconciled and Sherem wanted nothing to come between them, and while Nadia had the punch power of a gnat, Dakar’s was formidable; add righteous indignation on Nadia’s behalf, and he might just beat the flesh off Sherem’s nose. “Well, maybe we should wake her.” “In trouble with your female, once again?” Bran offered blandly. The comment marinated in humor. “Stifle it, mangy beast,” Sherem growled. “It was only a suggestion, brother. I wasn’t planning on storming her escarpments,” Dakar forced, barely holding to his temper. “Not you, Dakar, I was talking to Bran.” “Funny, I didn’t hear him utter a sound. Are you holding out on us, Bran? Are you suddenly fluent in universal Ganz?” 111

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Bran gave him his best beast smile and nodded his head. Dakar looked suspiciously from Bran to Sherem. “He, uh, understands a great deal of what is said, I think. He is very intelligent, a species as intelligent as our own, possibly,” Sherem blurted. “Obviously more intelligent, if your relations with your mate are anything to go by,” Bran offered. “Not another comment or we’ll blow our cover, I swear,” Sherem mind-spoke threateningly. One thing neither wanted. “Ah,” Dakar stood as Nadia entered the room. “Hello, Dakar. Hi Bran, sorry, I guess I fell asleep.” Sherem watched Nadia move into the room taking a seat next to Dakar flanking herself between his brother and Bran who sat on the floor. The L-shaped lounger sat seven comfortably and she had chosen the farthest seat from him. She idly ran her fingers into Bran’s fur, but instead of protesting, he sat perfectly still, allowing her ministrations. Nadia looked pale and unnaturally still, and her puffy eyes, though dry were lifeless and remained focused on the faux fire in the alcove across from her. Sherem cringed inside. His old feelings of inferiority surfaced and he all but growled at the three sitting cattycorner from him. Sherem cleared his throat. “Dakar, do you have the numbers of attackers?” “I estimate one hundred and twenty-eight, about one hundred too many for a star cruiser to hold for any great distance,” he pointed out unnecessarily. “Which means that not far is a starship waiting. Do you believe the first attack acted as a probe to test our defenses or are they simply toying with us?” Sherem mulled through invasion and attack strategies and none of the scenarios he employed fit their current situation. “Why waste valuable forces for scare tactics? It’s wasteful and puts us on our guard. If they were sent to deplete our warriors in preparation for the main attack, they miscalculated because we lost ten with thirty injured while they forfeited over a hundred—and still counting. The clean-up crews are not yet finished.” Though blazer technology had advanced to allow for body disintegration, Nefari warriors fought with daggers and swords when in close quarters. Numbers of downed and deceased allowed them to accurately define enemy defenses, plot future strategies, and evaluate their own warrior effectiveness. Most evaded blazer technology entirely, in favor of the traditional 112

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Nefari broad swords that reflected blazer rays and stabbed to kill or disable. Their training and fluid grace enabled them to dodge any beam or projectile and return it with deadly accuracy. “Could they be unaware you are Nefari and testing your battle-readiness?” Nadia asked. “No, all in the galaxy know the Portender and what that entails,” Dakar answered. “Speaking of the Portender, where is the captain, shouldn’t he be here?” Nadia carefully avoided Sherem’s gaze and queried Dakar. “The only ones I trust with your life are in this room, misulu,” Sherem answered for Dakar in an effort to make her face him. Unsuccessfully. “Until we determine ally from enemy; that is how it will remain. Jorge has captained the Portender for six years and trained with me at our academy before that, but you are too precious to lose by misjudgment. I will not endanger you when it is not essential.” Sherem noticed color suffuse her cheeks; he’d embarrassed her by his blunt talk. His gaze bore into hers willing her to understand the feelings he could not put into words. “The most bizarre aspect of the battle is that the enemy seemed to kill more of their own soldiers than ours. They had no friendly fire guards on their weapons and seemed more anxious to fire at anything that moved, rather than determine the antagonist. Almost as if they were caught in a blood lust.” Bran broke into Sherem’s thoughts. “I was in the lab when autopsies for the prisoners and combatants were analyzed. The prisoners died of a powerful hallucinogen with trace amounts of Assyllis and every combatant tested was high on it. Most likely a derivative of Angels Gate. The possibility we discussed earlier linking Jasper and Angels Gate to the attempts on your life, the framing of Dakar, and the kidnappings are growing stronger by the moment.” “Yes, you are right but there are still missing pieces to our puzzle.” Sherem nodded to Bran. He looked up to see Nadia focusing her attention on him and Bran and realized that if she hadn’t already discerned the telepathic bond between them, it would not be long. “Your pardon?” Dakar asked, warily focusing first on Nadia and then Bran. “Did I miss something, perhaps?” Sherem shot a furtive look at Nadia before addressing Dakar. “Sorry, I was thinking of the results from the enemy autopsies I received just before you arrived,” he 113

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improvised. “It seems traitor and intruder alike had one common bond; they all had high quantities of a drug in their system, possibly Angels Gate in combination with another. It would explain much, their feelings of invincibility and inhibitions in killing all in their path. Even the taking of their own lives.” Sherem took a deep breath. “Dakar,” he ventured tentatively, “Bran and I believe that all the incidents including the attack today have a direct correlation to Angels Gate and the percentage of Assyllis it contains—and just possibly the attempts on my life, framing you.” Dakar coughed. “You and Bran? What does he do, nod, slobber, or scratch behind his ear depending on the hypothesis?” “No,” Nadia interjected, “they are telepathically linked.” She directed an accusing glare at Bran. “Yours is the voice I’ve been hearing in my head, is it not, Bran?” Bran hung his head. “I apologize for misleading you, one who belongs to Sherem, the fewer who understand my powers, the safer for all concerned.” “Is this a joke? You can talk to the animals, now? Have you completely lost your mind? I know it was hard on both of us when we were estranged but I didn’t start communing with the clouds, talking to the tulips, or convening with canines.” “It is true, Dakar. Bran just mind-spoke to me and I have been picking up idle,” she cleared her throat, “thoughts from him. I just didn’t know where they were coming from—until now. “Why did you not tell me, Sherem?” Accusation blending with hurt in her darkened swirling eyes as she finally met his gaze. “I would have kept your confidence.” “I am sorry, misulu, the fewer people aware of Bran’s powers, the stronger advantage we have for finding our traitors and pinpointing the ones behind it all.” “What about me? I am your brother. You still do not trust me, do you?” Dakar accused. He stood almost toppling the oblong table in front of them. His eyes were suspiciously moist as he raced from the room; Sherem directly on his heals. Nadia sat back and crossed her arms under her breasts. “You are the one who has been planting those comments into my mind.” Bran responded with a beastly grin. “Would you care for Eden-wine? I find I am thirsty.” “A bowl would be appreciated, thank you.” 114

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“My pleasure. Well, since you can converse, why don’t you tell me all about yourself?” Bran shrugged, jumped up on the side vacated by Sherem, and took up the length of it. “There is not much to tell. Obviously, my friend and I are not very adept at deception and to be frank, telepathically communicating with those I normally eat is a strange and rather unsettling phenomenon.” He licked his lips staring hungrily at Nadia. She laughed. “I am not intimidated by your act, Bran. Save it for the male crewmembers; they seem more susceptible than we females.” “Why is that?” he wanted to know. “I don’t know. For me, I know that Sherem would never let you near me if there were the slightest chance you might harm me. It is a rather freeing experience and one of the only pleasant side-affects of being bound, temporarily, to your friend.” Bran actually chuckled and the sound made Nadia laugh. “So, what other powers do you possess and how can you communicate so articulately in our language?” “Initially, I correlated Sherem’s feelings to the sounds he used to express them. It gave me a rudimentary knowledge of your language; I then studied video-docs to pick up the nuances. Sherem does not have the broadest of vocabularies.” Nadia giggled. “He is a warrior not a diplomat, Bran. He does have an effective way of getting his point across, however. He merely backs his opponent into a corner and traps them into compliance.” Nadia’s smile fell from her face. “You make him crazy.” This cheered her. “It is the least I can do. Can you do other things besides communicate, reason intelligently, and disappear?” “It is unclear. I am just a pup, as I grow I may develop others. Sometimes it seems I am about to change shape but it has not yet occurred,” he stated matter-of-factly. Nadia spit out the wine she had just sipped. “A pup? Did you say you were just a pup?” Bran bared his teeth and yelped. “Yes, I will not reach full growth for another three seasons.” Nadia whistled. “That’s almost a full cycle. H-How big will you get?” “I am not sure but I believe we will find out together.” 115

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The panel opened to reveal both brothers bantering away. Nadia was glad they straightened out their differences, however Dakar watched Bran with a tinge of wariness and jealously. “I have given the order for ‘High Alert’. We agreed that whoever attacked, will most likely come at us again before we discover who he or they are. It has grown late and is time to rest. Bran, we will lock ourselves in for the night. Nadia’s quarters are available and I hope quite adequate for your needs. Sleep well, for I can feel a storm brewing. If something happens, I will wake you.” Sherem turned to Dakar and clapped a hand on his back. “I know where you sleep tonight, brother. You have my blessing on the union.” Dakar smiled sheepishly at Nadia, punched his brother in the arm, and exited behind Bran. They were alone and Nadia wished he would release her as easily as he had the others. She sank back down on her seat and grabbed her wine, emptying the contents. “It has been a long and grueling day, Nadia. Come retire to our mat.” Though she could barely hold her eyes open, there was no chance she would meekly follow. He had taken too much from her and she was raw from the experience. She would sleep in the living area. When she heard him fall asleep, she would take a pillow and cover from the mat and curl up on one of lounge sections. Though not very wide, when exhaustion took her, she would no longer care. “I agree the day as been particularly grueling, that is the reason I am too wired to sleep. You go ahead and I will follow after I have another Eden-wine.” She heard him sigh. He knew she intended to delay the inevitable. He approached her, feathered his fingers through her hair, and kissed her tenderly on the temple. “Do not leave our chambers, misulu, do you promise?” he coaxed. “I know it is dangerous, Sherem, I am not a reckless child. I will stay right here, I promise.” He silently left her. She would keep her promise and not move from her spot on the narrow, though plush lounge.

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Chapter Fifteen

She lay in a pool of fire. Burning up as a million flames licked and kissed every inch of her inside and out. Her skin was tight over her frame, her breasts and lower abdomen heavy and aching. She needed relief, begged for it, surcease guiding her every thought and movement—and then her soul burst from her body floating up and up until with one last flicker burst into all the stars of the galaxy. Nadia exploded awake with an orgasm so strong she trembled like the onslaught of a volcano, the sound of her own scream echoing in her ears. Her eyes shot wide, finding fathomless black orbs staring back with amusement-laced satisfaction. “Wh—What happened?” “I brought you to orgasm in your sleep. You are very responsive to my touch, misulu.” Sherem’s voice grated over her nerve endings and passion soaked skin. He lay half on top her, their bodies intertwined. As she became more aware, she realized she lay positioned in the middle of his over-sized mat. “How did I get here?” she asked, the demand slightly slurred from sleep and fulfillment. A hot steel poker caressed her thigh and she realized they were both naked. “I carried you last night and you slept cuddled to me as if made for it. A few hours ago, I went to the bridge and gave the order for galaxy jump. We are in Earth’s galaxy.” He hesitated for a moment as if unsure how to proceed and Nadia felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. “Rocky,” she croaked. “Is fine, misulu. I have personally spoken with him. The Miramid is making its way toward us and we rendezvous in approximately four days in our own galaxy. COM silence will be maintained until then.” Nadia pushed until their positions were reversed. “Why didn’t you wake me? What has kept them so long, are they safe?” Nadia shook him, watching for the truth in 117

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his eyes. What she saw, past his relaxed good humor, was barely banked passion mixed with a smug self-satisfied gleam that Nadia did not trust. She couldn’t remember when she had seen him looking more content and carefree. Actually the words carefree and content used in the same sentence with Sherem created an oxymoron of the first order. “What did you talk about?” “I have brought food. While we eat, I will tell you everything. I laid out a wrap for you unless you would prefer to dine in the buff. It can be a most erotic experience.” Nadia turned the color of the strawberry robe within easy reach and made a grab for it, covering herself as she dashed for the clean room. Rich baritone laughter followed in her wake. Had she ever heard him laugh? Nadia entered the front room where an array of her favorite foods were laid out. Sherem was too magnanimous, too pleased and Nadia grew distinctly uncomfortable. What had he told her brother? She wanted to find out so when she contacted him she could devise her own story and arguments against Sherem’s high-handedness. If she were to be honest with herself, she loved the brute to distraction but that was precisely the problem because he looked upon her as some sort of prize to be coveted. She believed that spending more time with each other might do the trick but even while he cleaved her to him, he also pushed her away. There were certain barriers she could not cross and certain compartments she could not breakout of. It seemed ‘cross purposes’ defined their entire relationship. And he had so much more experience than she did with the male female thing that most of the time she felt totally out of her depth. How did you make someone love you? How did you lower your own barriers to someone on the other side with shredders? She wanted to be loved for herself, not her title, Gattonia’s natural resources, or even her looks. None of them defined her. “Are you just going to stand there looking lost or come hear about your brother and his boisterous family?” What was going through her beautiful, complex brain? Was she telepathically communicating with her brother where she stood? He had taken certain liberties in describing his and Nadia’s circumstances. He had told Zorroc that they had lifemated and all that remained was his blessing and the negotiation of a bride price. Zorroc had been comically stymied by the later and slightly offended that as her brother he considered Nadia not prize enough on her own merit that Sherem had to pay extra for her. 118

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Sherem had had to reassure him the “price” merely represented an old Nefari tradition and could be paid symbolically in allegiance between their two provinces. He had only one hurdle left to traverse. The ritual words must come from her own mouth and free will or the bond could be later questioned. Even worse, she probably knew it; being a well read, scholarly little Gattonian. The Miramid and the Portender would lock in four days. He must have her compliance and complete the tattoo. And affix the final mark on her heart as well as her shoulder. “Well, now who’s looking lost, I would like to hear the news of my brother.” “They are fine, did I not already say? It seems they sent a team out for reconnaissance and they disappeared. Since discovery of the Miramid would have confirmed the reality of another humanoid species, they had to be extra careful on how they searched for the missing crew. They did not find him…” “Him?” Nadia asked. “Yes, er, no, I mean them. A team of six vanished and with them a good friend of mine.” “Rosik,” Nadia whispered, putting her hand to her throat. “What do you know of Rosik,” he asked suspiciously. Had his friend been making inroads to her affection? “He spends a great deal of time at our House. My nephews are a particular favorite of his. Everyone believes him to be a lethal female magnet, but inside he’s more a big teddy bear. “I don’t believe anything terrible has happened to him. He is too…” She smiled wickedly, “good with his weapons.” “What is that supposed to mean, what do you know of his weapons?” Sherem stood up placing both hands squarely on the table, facing her accusingly. Nadia’s eyes twinkled like the rarest of diamonds, obviously enjoying his chagrin. “Well, stealth is a weapon. Charm is a weapon. His blazer works lethally on the enemy, where the all important one between his legs vanquishes the females.” Sherem raced around the table, picked her up out of the chair, and pinned her against the nearest wall—amidst rainbows of giggles cascading around him. He had never seen her quite so carefree and discovered he enjoyed making her laugh. “The only weapon between your legs will be mine. Now, how well do you know Rosik?” 119

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“He is a very good friend of Cat’s and visits most everyday when not on assignment.” Her merriment subsided. “Do you think he is alright? Cat and the boys will be heart broken.” “You are right about Rosik; we have been in many battles together and dangerous assignments. He will land on his feet; there can be no other outcome. Now, would you like to accompany me to the bridge and observe a galaxy jump?” “Why not just wait for my brother here?” she asked, while reaching out to Zorroc with her mind. Immediately she felt his warm presence. “I have missed you, Dizzy Nia. I am sorry to have worried you but you should not have come. You might have been injured.” “I am not a child, Rocky, and I had to do something. I felt your distress and knew something had gone wrong. And I was right. How are you, Cat, and my nephews?” “Cat and my sons are the terrors of the universe. In other words, all is normal. Did Sherem tell you about Rosik?” “Yes, and he said five others were missing as well.” “We located them just minutes ago and transhifted them to the ship. There is no word on Rosic. It is as if he disappeared. Cat is very upset and ready to tear the galaxy apart, of course, but more about that when we meet in a few days. I hear congratulations are in order; we have much to discuss after our rendezvous. Until then, I love you. Cat will be ecstatic when I tell her we spoke.” Nadia debated whether to bring up the subject of Sherem’s machinations but decided to wait until she could sit down and discuss it person. That way she would be more successful in swaying to him to her side. Until then she would not comment one way or the other. “Tell everyone I love them and will see them soon. You too, Rocky. I am beyond relieved to feel you in my mind, again. It has been too long.” She felt a wave of warmth and he was gone. “Did you hear me, misulu?” “Pardon? Oh, um, could you explain that again? My mind was elsewhere.” Sherem regarded her suspiciously. “Day dreaming, my pet?” “Spooka is a pet; I am your…” She stopped short, clearly perplexed. She had almost admitted what she most longed to avoid. “Your passenger.”

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Sherem barked out a laugh, his eyes fairly twinkling with delight. Nadia stared, spellbound. He looked…beautiful. Breathtaking. And all together too scrumptious to resist. Sherem, noting the hunger in her eyes, wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and take her to his mat—then keep her there for the rest of the journey. He cursed his responsibilities and whoever threatened them. He aligned their bodies, chest to hips and crushed his mouth down over hers. And reveled in her enthusiastic response. “Come to the bridge with me,” Sherem entreated softly, still pressing her to him, his face buried in her hair. “You can see and talk to Zorroc in four short days. I have already assured you he is safe. Come witness a different form of dance than the one we perform locked together. It may be the only space jig you are liable to see. Come with me, misulu. Let me show you my world.” She decided not to mention her communication with Zorroc and instead asked, “Space jig?” “Mmm,” he answered, inhaling the exotic scent of her hair and nuzzling the tender spot just below her ear, “a slang term that best describes it, and a most unforgettable coaster ride.” “Yes, I will come.” He only groaned in response. Sherem took great care in strapping her into the chair next to his, and took every opportunity to brush his fingers across her neck and collarbone to reposition her hair, and along her breasts, belly, and hips to ensure a tight and comfortable fit. The dazed look of trust on Nadia’s face made him feel as if he could defeat an entire army. He bent low and gently grazed her lips and for a moment the world around them galaxy jumped to another dimension leaving just the two of them. The sly whistle behind him disoriented him and he turned around to silence the intruder with a look. Galaxy jump left Nadia stunned speechless, even an hour after completion. Her mind’s eye would always recall, with vivid detail, the spirit rocking experience. The countless stars and planets bursting into a kaleidoscope of swirls too exotic to describe. Rather like observing a powerful orgasm as it pierced soul and body—similar to the one she had experienced just that morning. She cast a furtive glance at Sherem, mesmerized by the unholy gleam deep in his eyes; vast as deep space itself.

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”Have you found them?” the angry voice sounded over COM relay. “Not as yet, they were there one moment and—” “What was the staged exercise for if not to plant a tracking device strong enough to follow them into galaxy jump. I told you what to expect; you said it would be done.” The Kerrdic Prince Ryder ran his fingers through his spiked, red-feathered hair. How had this assignment ended up transferred to him? If Kindarak were the genius he proclaimed himself, he would have found a way to tag the Portender through one of his own spies on the ship. Security scan, or not. Now here Ryder was, short of crew, in the middle of deep space, with the majority of his males passing through one sickness after another. Some dying in gut wrenching agony, which Ryder had begun to attribute to the drug Kindarak had promised would enhance their battle skills enough to overcome the legendary prowess of the Nefari warriors. Had it blocked their telekinetic capabilities, he wondered, and prevented the raiding party from planting the bugs deep into their ventilation system so as not to be detected? Ryder sighed, he would never know, because the gas-filled tooth the soldiers of raiding party wore contained not a truth blocker, as purported, but a lethal dose of poison. After the fact, he refused to allow enhancements of any kind to be administered to his remaining crew. How had events culminated to his present circumstance? It had begun so innocently. A small loan to cover a lost wager that morphed into gambling, whoring, and finally betrayal of those he most revered. He had been led like a sheep to slaughter, believing he had control of his situation…and Kindarak. He felt tainted, used, in danger of his sanity and most importantly—trapped. For what were his options? Kindarak housed his ship and discreetly sent a guard to watch it. He and his remaining crew were under surveillance as well. And where could he go with not even enough fuel to make Jasper. Throw himself and his crew on the mercy of the Portender, who had vanished without a trace, and beg Sherem to bail him out once again? The acid in his stomach churned. Of one thing he was certain, if he was a naïve idiot, at least Kindarak was no genius. His planning so far had turned out every bit as flawed as Ryder’s own. The thought rallied him somehow. Kindarak was the idiot for going after the Nefari Barbarian. Ryder faced Kindarak with barely disguised distain. “Don’t forget my prime objective, my lord.” Making reference to Princess Nadia’s successful kidnapping. “Apparently, the drug you ordered administered either blocked the telekinetic powers of 122

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my warriors or impaired their reasoning. We will never know which, since there are no survivors. A very comprehensive way to block the truth, I might add.” The reference to the tyrant’s lack of judgment was one he would have been too intimidated to attempt the week before, but blaming himself for so many of his subjects’ deaths made feel him sick inside and dirty. The kind of dirt that would cling to him for eternity. Kindarak chose to ignore the insult, temporarily, he had further plans for the puppet prince. “The Portender will make its way back any time. Stay and monitor the skies until you locate them.” “Many of my crew are sick, if we do not start back soon, we will die. My father would be very displeased were that to occur.” “Don’t be more of the sniveling fool than you are. My ship will take you back when we depart—at the conclusion of our business. All you need concern yourself with at this moment is to locate the Portender. I will do the rest.” “Why can’t you simply galaxy jump to the Milky Way?” “I explained already that if my ship is traced to the jump sector, I could fall under suspicion. Sherem is not a complete idiot—like others I could name.” The log from his ship could be accessed to reveal travel co-ordinates for the last cycle. Kindarak would not trip himself up so easily. He must appear above reproach. The Baraden family were such trusting fools…all but the youngest, of course.

*** “I believe I have spotted our thief,” Bran mind-spoke to Sherem who was engaged in yet another attempt to seduce his mate into the formal branding ceremony. Yet she continued to hold herself back from him. Why? The sexual bond between them was stronger than any he had felt, he vowed his name, devotion and wealth to her; what more did she require? If she would but say, he would buy it for her. If she wanted travel and adventure, which she seemed to crave, he would lay it at her feet. Yet she insisted that what she needed most, he could not deliver. What else was there beside sexual compatibility, wealth, devotion, and alliance? It was the formula that bound his parents together and they seemed content. And it should further relieve her that his father had chosen only one mate. He shook himself out of his reverie. “Where are you?” “In my quarters with the original tapes.” “I’ll be right down.” 123

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“What is it?” Nadia asked. “Did Bran discover something?” “How did you know I was communicating with Bran?” Nadia shrugged. “I can just tell.” She rose from their game of backgammon and crossed the room for another piece of dark chocolate. “May I accompany you?” “Yes, after you don body armor under your clothing.” “Aren’t you growing a tad obsessive where security is concerned? We are not likely to be caught unawares again.” “I will not discuss issues of safety, either put on the armor or remain here with a guard outside.” “Certain bodyguards in Gattonia can form a mind-meld and create a force field around individual people or themselves. You should ask Bran if he could do that.” Nadia was confident that Sherem could keep her safe but what of himself. He seemed to consider himself indestructible despite the close calls he survived. “Can you?” “I don’t know, maybe with proper training. It is a rare skill and highly prized.” “I can understand why. Go,” he ordered, shooing her toward the sleeping room. “We don’t have all day.” Nadia raised her eyes to the ceiling and sauntered from the room. Sherem’s gaze never left the gentle sway of her hips. “Who is it,” Sherem asked, without preamble. Bran had been working on the original tapes for the last week. His vision was more than ten times as accurate as humans, from what Sherem guessed. Both figured the film had been doctored to cover up the guilty party, so Bran was slowly going through each slide. Sherem seated Nadia before taking his place beside her. “Watch this,” Bran invited, punctuated with a bark. Bran’s computer worked by eye command since he couldn’t speak. Frame by frame he led them through the suspected thief’s movements. Sherem was not surprised to find one of the stationed guards responsible, though they were purported to be the most trusted of his crew. His shoulders tensed and his back went ramrod straight even as he shook his head in weary resignation. Nadia caught the movement and covered his fist wadded tightly on his thigh. “Isn’t that—“ 124

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“Yes, misulu, it is Brian, Jorge’s second in command.” He looked over at Bran. “Do you think Jorge could be involved, as well?” “I believe only time will tell us,” he messaged into both minds. “If my second in command is corrupt, how many others wish me ill?” “Will you order his arrest now?” Sherem cocked his head in contemplation. “Perhaps not; his actions should be observed first to discover all others involved in this treachery. “Don’t,” Nadia admonished. “Don’t believe your entire crew is against you. For one it is not logical, for another, if it were so we would already be dead—with Bran or without him.” “My apologies,” she mind-spoke to Bran. Mind-speaking with the ankou was becoming more natural the more she practiced, though she channeled her thoughts into a never before charted canal. If asked, even she was unclear as to how she managed it, which gave her a glimmer of Sherem’s mental discipline and capabilities. He was far more powerful than the quintessential warrior he appeared. Bran shrugged his acceptance just as a buzz sounded on Bran’s COM unit. “I turned it off before you arrived, in case someone wanted to monitor our conversation,” Bran explained. “And besides, it serves little purpose; like handing a microphone to one who is mute.” Sherem moved to the COM unit and flipped it on before demanding, “Speak.” “Incoming from Nefar, your Highness.” “Who is it?” Sherem wanted to know. “He identified himself as Minister Gannett.” “Route him here.” After a moments pause Gannett’s voice came across harried and just a little panicked. “Remy, are you there?” “What happened to “exalted Prince”? I believe that was the last title you bequeathed to me.” “Zazu, Sherem, where in the hells name have you been and why are your communications and co-ordinates cloaked?” Came the frustrated question from his friend. “You used the name of our deity and the one domain he will not tread in the same sentence. You must be shaken-up.” 125

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“Do not joke. What is happening?” Gannett demanded. “The short version is that we were attacked before galaxy jump and since returning to Zinn, decided to keep our whereabouts unknown.” “Attacked! What fool would attack a starship crammed full of the worst massacring whores in the universe?” “Obviously one who is unfamiliar with our stellar reputation,” Sherem replied wryly. “Oh, uh, sorry. I—“ “I know what you meant, my friend. And the answer to your question is that we don’t know. The assailants keep killing themselves before we can question them. Have you heard of a lord powerful enough to command such fear?” Sherem listened to a small gasp and a silence held a beat too long. Gannett knew of one. “No. No one comes to mind,” Gannett replied too quietly. “Your Uncle has been trying to reach you, though. I assume he has some news on the drug you are interested in. If you will send me your co-ordinates I will pass them along or you can COM him yourself.” “I have his COM address, just give me his co-ordinates.” “He is in sector G815, Prince Sherem,” Gannett answered formally. Sherem didn’t bother to correct him. His friend knew more than he was telling and the thought made his stomach lurch in disappointment and frustration. He would rather face a hoard of enemies with only a sword than this seemingly endless web of deceit and betrayal. Sherem hoped his uncle could shed some light into the treacherous tunnel he had wandered. Nadia noted Sherem’s lack of color and set expression as he stood with his back to the COM. He looked as hard as metal but fragile at the same time, as if a well directioned wind could send him crashing to the ground. She had heard the conversation and didn’t catch anything amiss but Sherem obviously had. Nadia walked over and put her hand on his chest gazing deeply into his eyes. “What is it, Sher?” she asked. Sherem looked down at her with a knowing glint and mischievous smirk. “Did you just use an endearment, misulu?” “Huh?” “You called me Cher as in Cheri.” 126

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“I called you “Sher” as in short for Sherem,” she huffed placing one hand on her hip while the other remained firmly trapped on his chest by his callused hand. “I prefer the endearment,” he murmured, thrusting his other hand into her silken amber strands. They coated his fingers like liquid rays of sunlight as he tilted her head back, holding her in place for his bruising, soul-searing kiss. Her knees liquefied and she sank into his hard heat. The world fell away. The only reality remaining was this—him. Her relentless obsession. Nadia vaguely registered a disgusted groan before, “Take it to your own chambers, if you please. I am too young to appreciate it.” Both she and Sherem sprang apart, having received the message simultaneously. Sherem grabbed her hand, mumbled an awkward apology to Bran, and dragged her out of his chambers down the hall to the jetquik that would take them to their quarters.

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Chapter Sixteen

“What was I thinking?” Sherem asked the ceiling of the lift, but not relinquishing her hand. “I can’t even remember the sector, can you?” Nadia shook her head. “I guess I wasn’t paying close enough attention.” “G815,” Bran messaged. “Thanks, now get out of my head,” Sherem ordered. “Our heads, plural, Bran,” Nadia added. Sherem sprang through the panel as it opened leading Nadia through to their sleeping chamber, forcing her down on their mat and landing right on top of her pinning her hands over her head. “I cannot think when you are around. The only thing I want to do is take you again and again, fiercely until I know you are mine.” Nadia gazed back, her heavy lidded eyes dilated, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen wondering what she had done to awaken such passion and desperation. She, who was renowned for her passionless nature. “Say the words. Make your pledge to me. No more illusions, no more prevarication. Tell me you want me, give me your commitment and devotion…and your body.” Sherem’s body shook as he waited for her vow but Nadia froze in confusion. This was to be it? No words of love, no soft touches or cajoling smiles, just his will over hers? He must have anticipated her next words for he cut off her response with a full assault on her senses. “Before we leave this chamber, you will give me what I require,” he whispered seductively and went to work removing her robe and body armor. In moments she lay naked to his hungry gaze. She felt exposed; both overly warm and chilled consecutively. “Spread your legs, Nia mine.” His voice had turned to gravel, his chest rose and fell as if he had run a league. Nadia did as he ordered. “Wider, I would see and explore the petals guarding your entrance.” 128

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Nadia knew her cheeks flushed to raspberry red. She was as exposed as a female could get while Sherem remained fully clothed. In all honesty the erotically charged situation electrified her. She felt a drop of her juices push through her labia and slowly work its way down the center of her cheeks. Sherem spotted the dewy drop and followed its progress; a wicked flicker raced across his expression before he knelt between her legs and slowly lowered his head to lap the dewy trickle. He groaned lifting his head to make eye contact, and then licked his lips. A feral edge entered his gaze before he fell on her, gorging on her juices, licking, nipping, and circling her clitoris with his textured tongue. Nadia screamed in writhing abandon. When he lifted her buttocks off the mat and held her thighs even further apart for his feast, an orgasm tore through her. But instead of letting her ride the wave of her release he redoubled his attack until one orgasm piled onto another until she dripped with sweat and every part of her shook in reaction. She found herself begging but for what she wasn’t sure. “Tell me, misulu. Pledge yourself.” “Please, I need you inside me. Please fill me; I need your body over mine.” Nadia reached for him and groaned in frustration when he stood and slowly peeled out of his uniform. He seemed even larger than before, every muscle bulging. Especially the one between his legs. A rampant male ready to devour his prey and at that moment Nadia wanted him more than her next breath. Sherem studied the sated glistening vision in front of him. He had waited for her forever and now he had her begging for his body and his cock. There would be only pleasure for them both from now on. Her virginity was long past and he had brought her to orgasm more than five times ensuring her passage was coated and primed for his entrance. He would make her say the words that would seal her fate. All would be settled before her brother or anyone else could interfere. His manhood throbbed painfully in response but he would hold off until he had everything he wanted from her. He slid onto the mat and covered her slight frame with his. Zazu, she was soft and fit him perfectly. Her desperate whimpers made him want to alleviate her distress but he would have his way first. “Bend your knees and open for me. I intend to give you the ride of your life.” She eagerly complied and he slid home. She groaned with the pleasure of being filled. He began to slowly stroke her passage bringing her closer and closer to mindless pleasure. 129

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“Faster, harder, Sherem. You are torturing me with your restraint.” “I promise you will get what you want, but first I need something from you.” “Of course, anything, take anything you want,” Nadia wailed, damp strands clinging to her forehead and shoulders. Sherem increased his pace bringing her to the edge of infinity but withholding the final nudge. Her eyes and face looked fevered, wild. In old Nefari Sherem whispered J to record. He would take no chance should their mating be questioned. She was his. He then murmured the joining words in her ear and told her to repeat them. Breathlessly she repeated the foreign litany and something within him shattered, bursting free and he began to purr. The low droning spread through him until his whole body began its own unique waves of oscillating electrical charges all Nefari males possessed that resonated to every corner of Nadia’s being until they vibrated as one. She gathered and exploded into ecstasy. Sherem roared his own release and then sunk his teeth into the juncture of Nadia’s neck and shoulder completing the mating mark. When the metallic taste of blood registered on his pallet, he thoroughly laved the area to accelerate healing. He lifted his head and turned Nadia’s head to face him. She had fainted with the force of her release. Sherem smiled his satisfaction…she had repeated the ancient words of compliance, consenting to the lifemating. He studied her features. Her lush lashes, that had captured several silken strands of amber, fanned above moist rosy cheeks while her bee-stung lips were slightly parted in silent invitation. One he could not deny. He bent over and kissed her gently on those lips before moving on to her lashes, the tip of her nose, and finally the mating tattoo that irrevocably bound them. His mouth continued down her chest, tasting every honeyed inch of her. “You led me on a merry chase, little witch, but I finally bagged you.” “That is a very strange way to say ‘I love you’, Sherem,” Nadia groggily commented and then moaned as he nipped at the underside of her breast. Sherem shrugged. “There is no such thing as love; however there are addictions and you are mine. One I will feed until the end of our days. I own you, misulu. You whispered the words granting me the right.” He suckled first one breast, and then the other but instead of Nadia journeying into another sensual vortex, she felt as if a ship full of ice water had been dumped on her head. 130

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“I whispered no such words and I thought I made it clear I am no male’s thing to be owned or even worse—an addiction. I am the Princess of Gattonia whether we mate or not. And at the rate you are going it will never happen. Now let me up.” An unholy light burst through his gaze, pinning her as effectively as a cornered monzu. Nadia had never before feared this Nefari barbarian but a trickle of dread now slithered down her spine tripping every instinct of self-preservation she possessed. “Are you saying that I lied and forced the words of joining onto your tongue?” he asked too softly. Nadia licked her suddenly parched lips and thought through her response carefully, lest she provoke him further. “I am saying no such thing. What I am saying is that I do not recall reciting any mating words unless it was that nonsense phrase you had me repeat while I was too passion-laden to know what I was saying.” When Sherem gave her no response, she continued quietly trying to reason with him. “It was all a mistake. You see I thought, um, was under the false impression that you cared for me. That you love me. And that is what I require in a lifemate—actually, the only thing I require. So this error will have to be remedied which will be easy enough to accomplish. When we return to Ganz, I will have the tattoo surgically removed along with the wrist band, unless you would be so kind as to give me the key and save me the trouble.” Nadia held out her wrist striving to look as earnest as possible and maintained eye contact though she desperately wanted to shut out the mounting fury she found roiling across his features. “Nefari warriors, in war as in mating, value only what can be won and measured. Our sword arm used for the protection of a mate, the shelter we furnish to keep you warm and dry, and the clothing we provide proclaiming possession and rank. These things are not nebulous, abstract sentiments but solid proof of our regard. And as for that nonsense phrase; it signified a sacred life-bonding vow we took that cannot be broken or remedied. So I am afraid that you are stuck with my wristband, my tattoo and my person. You are mine and I keep what is mine and no one, no one, will take you from me.” When Sherem finished his threat he punctuated it with a brutal kiss. Then suddenly as if the tiger within had been loosed, his hands were everywhere on her body and were harsh and punishing instead of sensual and persuading. His face was a mask showing no emotion as he roughly parted her legs and pushed one and then two fingers into her. Nadia squirmed, pleading with him to stop but her teary words only inflamed 131

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him further. He entered her in one strong stroke then drilled into her hard and fast, overwhelming her in her inexperience. Holding her hands above her head with one hand, he tipped her pelvis up with the other for deeper penetration. As one emotion tore through her, another rocked her with angry force until she was unsure if it was torment or ecstasy. “You are mine, mine, mine,” he swore, each declaration punctuated with a thrust, “and I will prove it again and again with pleasure until you yield.” A burning flame began low in Nadia’s belly and it spread, growing hotter and more intense until she was engulfed. Wave after wave of release pounded her, caught in an undertow of unbridled pleasure and heartache. Sherem lay panting after his release, his face in the supple curve of Nadia’s neck. How dare he make her feel this way? A jumbled coagulation of confusion, vulnerability, stupidity, lust…and love. She wanted to strangle him. Did Zorroc act like a thickheaded brute when first confronted with Cat? What tortured idiosy. When Nadia shoved Sherem aside, he let her go with no comment. He lay on his back with an arm slung across his eyes looking even more miserable than she. Somehow, that made her feel better. Big bad beast overcomes maiden half his size—big victory! Nadia fled to the clean room deciding to visit Tula and Dakar, and leave Sherem to his brooding.

*** Kindarak cursed his COM unit once more. Why hadn’t he heard from the Portender? It had been hours since Gannett delivered his message to Sherem, though he had withheld his ships co-ordinates. Might he be suspicious of Gannett or him—or both? He pounded his fist on the console, he must get those co-ordinates, or his plans could be jeopardized. “Sir,” the voice sounded through the COM unit. “What is it?” “Incoming message from the Portender, Sir,” the COM informed. Kindarak grinned in anticipation. “Let the games begin.” He laughed and danced and twirled over to his COM unit.

*** “Have you spoken with our uncle?” Dakar asked as he entered the bridge. “Yes, we meet in space two days from now,” Sherem replied. 132

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“So, a day before the Miramid.” Dakar slunk down next to his brother and noted the deep black void of space visible through the wide window spanning half the station. “Yes. I thought you would still be in your quarters with Tula. You seem fairly glued to one another,” Sherem ventured. Dakar colored and smiled uneasily looking sideways at his brother. “Nadia came by and I decided to leave them to their chatter, besides there is something I would speak with you about.” Dakar cleared his throat and took a sip of the choc-tea he had brought with him. “I believe she is or should I say was a virgin. Is what you were about to ask?” Dakar spit out his tea in response. “I know th…Zazu, Remy, give me warning when you are about to spout outrageously.” He paused for a moment before asking. “She was with you for over two cycles, how did you…why did…?” “She is a princess, given to me as a pleasurer, not a concubine. It seemed somehow disrespectful to lie with her and besides; my thoughts were…elsewhere.” Dakar cleared his throat once again. “Have you a throat ailment?” Sherem asked humorously, receiving a sock to his arm for his brotherly concern. “No, but this is difficult for me as you must know and you are not making it easier.” Dakar ran his hand through his hair in much the same manner as Sherem, a family trait, no doubt. The thought made Sherem grin. It was good to be with his brother again unencumbered with doubts. “I think I am in love with her and…and wanted to know how you would feel if I took her to mate,” he spurted out in a rush. “Take her to mate with my blessing. She is a good match, but spare me talk of love. More like you are crazed with lust, there is no such thing as the other,” Sherem pronounced, broodingly. Dakar burst out laughing and stood over his brother. “I am sure that attitude has enamored Nadia to her knees. You have been lost in love with that female since you glimpsed her, brother. The sooner you acknowledge it the smoother your road to completing the lifemating ritual.” “It is done,” Sherem replied with a smirk. 133

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Dakar sank back down. “She said not a word to me or Tula, and her clothing, come to think of it, covered her to her chin. Why would she hide her mating tattoo?” Sherem wanted to curse his brother for his astuteness. What to say about his disastrous mating and the way he had coerced his mate. Sherem cleared his throat. “Probably just needs time to adjust,” he finally grumbled. Dakar clapped him on the back with a laugh and left him.

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Chapter Seventeen

The following two days spawned an uneasy truce between Sherem and Nadia. She was quiet, dignified, and controlled. The ice princess was very much in evidence when she spent time alone with him. It was driving him insane. He welcomed the diversion his uncle provided when he asked permission to link with the Portender. Kindarak was struck dumb at the sight of Nadia. He had never before met her but tales of her reached his ears. It was said that she was colorless, and incased in ice, her reserve chilling and remote. The radiant, vibrant creature before him, however, belied description. She glowed with inner fire like the rarest Myverion gold. She had high, sculpted cheekbones below large, slanted eyes of molten amber. Her carriage showed grace and charm while her silken mane proclaimed her sensual allure with every gesture. His plans for her realigned themselves. Her charms would be wasted on Ryder. She would, however, make a splendid addition to his collection. His reward for a victory well fought—but not as his mate. That place belonged to the mother of his son. He stepped out of the transport tunnel connecting the two ships and approached Nadia, not taking his eyes from her and ignoring, for the moment, all others in the greeting party. “May I present my lifemate, Nadia, Princess of Gattonia and now Princess of Nefar.” Sherem turned to Nadia. “Nadia, my Uncle Kindarak.” Even as Sherem extended the proper introduction he moved forward to partially cover her from Kindarak’s sight. His warrior instincts were shouting so loudly they momentarily disoriented him. Undaunted, Kindarak bumped Sherem aside and instead of a formal greeting, engulfed her in a tight embrace, then kissed her lingeringly on the cheek, inhaling her unique female essence. “Soon,” he murmured quietly. Nadia stepped back abruptly with a question in her eyes, Sherem moved to stand close beside her, putting his arm around her waist possessively. His eyes shone like the Macronadin native to Nefar, a warning clear within their depths. 135

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Kindarak merely smiled and turned to Dakar wondering at the camaraderie the two brothers once again shared—when he had gone to such lengths to separate them. “Dakar, I must admit surprise,” he murmured. “I was told you and your brother had something of a falling out. Such a pity. Oh well, everyone knows how unreliable rumors can be.” He dismissed him and faced Sherem. “My boy, I believe we have much to discuss, but later, perhaps after dinner. It would be my pleasure to have you as my guests this evening, say eighteen hundred hours?” “I have some free time now if you’d like to come to the counsel room.” “Alas, it has been a harrowing journey; space pirates running around everywhere breeding battles around every corner. I fear I must rest. I am not as young as I used to be. Until later…” It was not posed as a question. “Of course, Kindarak.” Kindarak stiffened slightly. “You have always called me Uncle, Sherem. Has something changed?” “As you stated yourself a moment ago, I too am not as young as I once was,” Sherem replied enigmatically. Kindarak simply bowed and took his leave. “Your uncle is a very strange soul,” Nadia commented, still unnerved by the touch of him. “Where is he from, he has an unusual accent and way of expressing himself.” A bemused expression flitted across Sherem’s face. “I can’t recall his homeland or if I ever knew. Do you know, Dakar?” The three headed down the hall toward the jetquik. Sherem held firmly to Nadia’s hand. Kindarak’s reaction to his mate made him unsettled and wary. Seeing him through the eyes of a child was blatantly different than through the eyes of a warrior. His senses were on high alert and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A warning that had saved him countless times. “I don’t know, either. Did he seem changed to you, a little off-kilter? I can’t explain it…” “Yes, I know exactly what you mean. When did we see him last?” “I would say about ten cycles, though I believe our parents see him quite often during their travels. And he stays in touch with Rand.” “Hmm, it is past time we communicate with our father. A good excuse to find out a little more about our “Uncle”,” Sherem said as they took the jet-quik to the main deck. 136

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“Nadia, go directly to our quarters and wait for me. I shall join you shortly—and tell J to set the perimeter for high security.” Nadia looked questioningly before guessing, “You are spooked.” “Warriors do not spook, we trust our instincts. It is what keeps us alive,” Sherem stated. “In other words, he’s spooked,” commented Dakar dryly. Sherem kissed Nadia gently on the mouth and nudged her toward their private jetquik, then he and Dakar proceeded down the hall and around the corner. Sherem glanced behind them to make sure of their privacy and then murmured, “I am spooked.” “I did not trust the way he keyed on Nadia; as if he’d just run up on a mountain of Macronadin.” “I noticed. Bran, what did you think?” Dakar jumped and looked around. Bran appeared just beside him. “How do you do that, you huge glob of fur?” “I do not think your brother likes me, Sherem. Can I eat him, yet?” he asked wryly. “Enough, we have larger game to hunt.” “What did he say? It was concerning me, wasn’t it?” Dakar looked accusingly at Bran while addressing Sherem. “He asked if he could eat you. Satisfied?” The stricken look that stamped his brother’s face gave Sherem just the measure of levity he needed. “There was something wrong with his scent, but not unfamiliar to me. He has ingested Angels Gate or a similar derivative.” Sherem locked in place and turned to his friend. “You are positive? You can scent it on his skin?” “What are you talking about now, I showered just before joining the welcoming our uncle,” Dakar stated righteously. Sherem’s eyes rolled back in his head and spoke to his brother through clenched teeth. “Dakar, be serious. Bran just informed me that our ‘uncle’ has Angels Gate or another similar drug in his system. That may explain the weird aura surrounding him and his unstable behavior.”

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Dakar looked at Bran, stunned and impressed. “I’m reevaluating my opinion of you as we speak, fur blog. That clarifies a lot.” Dakar looked furtively around. “Uh, Remy…” “Not here. I was going to suggest we meet in your quarters but I have changed my mind. We will backtrack to mine; there is something you must see, and we have much to discuss and plan. Bran, cloak, please. No sense in startling the crew.” It was the signal to Bran to drop behind and cover their backs. And to ensure no interested ears endeavored to follow. Sherem continued to converse quietly with both his brother and Bran, though Bran would not follow until all was secure. Dakar didn’t know the difference and so, every time Dakar asked Bran a question, Sherem would obediently translate, as usual. Sherem hid a grin, wondering when his life had taken on the elements of a comedic farce. Dakar was stunned speechless, a downright rare occurrence when the Gattonian mural taking up one long wall in Sherem’s chambers opened to reveal a fully loaded POD. “Father insisted it was a matter of national security that I have a way off the ship after a particularly risky mission. He would let me continue to warrior no other way. I complied.” “Why wasn’t I told?” Dakar wanted to know. Sherem shrugged. “You were off at Knowledge World with Rand when the modifications were installed. Come, I’ll show you the inside. It’s equipped with a separate and more sophisticated COM unit than the ships and we can successfully send and receive cloaked COMs with no worries of tracing or interception. He is the best!” Sherem looked five cycles younger as he boasted about his POD. Dakar had never seen his brother so enthusiastic. Dakar’s lips quirked precariously as he asked, “Why do you call your POD a ‘he’, I thought all ships were ‘shes’?” “J, this is my brother, Dakar. Please say ‘hello’.” “It is a pleasure to meet you, Dakar, brother of Sherem. Welcome aboard. Would you like a demonstration of my features?” “Not today, J,” Sherem interjected. “We need to send a confidential COM,” Sherem. “Of course,” he replied. “COM ready, special features employed.”

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After a few minutes, Dakar heard his father’s voice in greeting. “Hello, my sons, it is good to hear and view you. Your mother is here, as well. Mia.” He turned from the screen. “Come sit on my lap so we can share the conversation.” “Oh, Royce, what will the children think?” Came the off screen reply but in the next second their mother seated herself gingerly on the king’s lap. Her color was high and her eyes sparkling. Dakar yearned for a match as good as his parents. Sherem cleared his throat but before his first words Dakar blurted. “Sherem has finally landed Nadia. I witnessed her mark myself; Nefar has a new Princess.” Dakar read the retribution in Sherem’s eyes as clearly as if he had spoken and he smirked. It would be some time until he forgave Sherem for his suspicions; until then he was exacting revenge in his own inimitable fashion. The queen looked as if she had swallowed a plum whole. The silence was deafening and Dakar wondered at the thickness of it. Surely, they approved. Sherem had made his intentions known cycles ago. “Congratulations, son. Your mother and I are very pleased for you, aren’t we, Mia.” “Of course, darling, whatever pleases you. Uh…” Dakar stared at his mother. Queens did not say ‘uh’ and Sherem had not said a word, but sat there like the implacable cliffs of Nefar. “What kind of mating did you forge, Sherem?” she asked pointedly with a silencing look at Dakar. She needn’t have worried, Dakar suddenly felt as though he were officiating a game without knowledge of the rules to because he had obviously missed something vital. “A life bonding, mother, the ancient words were spoken,” Sherem answered woodenly. “I thought we had agreed against that course. You are next in line; an heir must be assured before the binding words are spoken. Did you have her tested?” Mia asked on a hopeful note. Reality speared Dakar to his core. He hadn’t thought. The smart virus unleashed on Gattonia may very well have affected Nadia. She was almost certainly sterile. All thoughts of revenge, no matter how harmless, purged from his being and he moved toward his brother in a show of solidarity. “Those mandates are—“ 139

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“Quiet, Dakar,” Sherem ordered turning to him with a humorous glint. “I can speak for myself…but thank you,” he added quietly and then faced the COM. “Since I likely will be assassinated before an heir can be procured, the point is moot,” Sherem leveled in deadly earnest. His mother almost swooned while his father studied his sons. Dakar couldn’t tell what he saw there but whatever it was, Royce bade Mia from the room and leaned toward the screen. “What has transpired?” The parental inquiries of mating and fertility were dropped. The face of a warrior stared back.

*** “Hmm,” Nadia said staring at the clothes cove, pondering the appropriate gown for dinner that evening. Maybe I can bow out, she thought. Pretend she had a headache or a stomach malady. She shook her head—then Sherem would fly into a fit and call for an EMT to check her over; getting everyone in an uproar. Bad idea. “Hmm,” she voiced again. “May I suggest the formal lavender gown? It is a similar color to the one you prefer, but the material is heavier, textured, and more fitted. You will look as soft as a tornika but as regal as a queen,” the disembodied voice stated. Nadia whipped her head around looking for the source of the advice and then stilled suspiciously. “J?” “Yes, Princess,” the voice answered. “And I think your hair down with no jewelry. Your hair is adornment enough.” “Is there a surveillance monitor in the clothes cove?” “Oh, no, Princess. I don’t need monitors.” “Then how can you see, I thought you were physically installed in the POD and acted as secondary perimeter alarm. Surely there are remote sensors located strategically.” “Goodness, no. When requested I merely create an impenetrable force field around the entire chambers. That way not only panels are protected, but walls, floors and ceilings, as well.” He sounded entirely pleased with himself, Nadia mused. “If you are such a marvel of force, then how did those pirates get in?”

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“I am unable to activate without instruction and I believe you requested that the panel be breached. Next time specifically call on me if you wish to be secure. Of course, my force field is always activated when my crypt is shut.” “Your crypt?” Beginning to wonder whether she wanted to know. “The POD room where I am enclosed, Princess.” “Please quit calling me Princess. Nadia is fine.” No wonder Sherem had made such a point of ordering her into the POD. She sighed. “Well, how can you see me and what I am looking at?” “When my outside perimeter is activated I can scan as well as visualize. That is why I must insist on the lav—“ “But you are not on outer perimeter activate status. Why are we having this conversation?” Nadia demanded, frustrated that nothing was making sense and her new style guru was a sightless computer. “I am on outer activate status, Nadia,” J answered calmly, “whenever Sherem utilizes my onboard COM unit.” “I see,” she murmured, wondering if they had reached their parents. “As to the lavender gown, it is beautiful but I do not wish to look fluffy and harmless, I am striving for more of a hands-off, don’t-mess-with-me-or-I’ll-rip-your-arm-from-your-socketlook.” Dead silence. “J? Did you hear me?” “Yes.” Came the disembodied voice. “Well, any suggestions?” she asked impatiently. “Are you unhappy with your mate?” “Of course, I’m not unhappy with Sherem. At least not in that way. Umm, his uncle is a real live flesh eating octopus, though, and I don’t want him putting his hands on me.” “An octopus? I am checking my databanks. Is that possible?” Nadia giggled. She loved conversing with computers especially the interactive AI types. “Not a real octopus, a male with questionable morals and allegiances who preys on females for sexual encounters, encouraged or not.” Nadia waited. “In that case I would suggest the black textured velvet with silver earrings, necklace and hair adornments,” he stated. Nadia brought it out and laid it on the mat. The material was thick, the sleeves long, and the bodice moderately cut. Add silver jewelry and she would be dressed in the 141

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colors of Nefar. She smiled. “J, you are a genius!” If Sherem wore the jacket she purchased for him in Jasper, they would match too closely to miss. Perfect. If that did not deter Kindarak’s wandering touch, there was something deeply wrong with him. Which she worried was the case. She donned her body armor under the dress as a paranoid precaution. Well, Sherem did tell her to wear it whenever they left their quarters. The panel whooshed open and Sherem strode in looking distracted…until he noticed her and then stopped dead in his tracks. A startled, confused expression pooled in his eyes. He crooked his head to the side and studied her carefully from her silver slippers slowly up to meet her tentative tiger-eyes. He raised an eyebrow quizzically, a flash of humor lit his eyes, then a knowing smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. “Planning to keep all lecherous uncles at bay tonight?” She returned his smile. “Is it that obvious?” she asked hopefully. He barked a laugh. “Only to those who know you.” He approached and circled his hands around her waist, and felt the body armor. “Do you really think that is necessary?” She nodded. “I’m sorry, I know that he’s you uncle, but—“ “Shh, I would have insisted on it anyway. The news from my father was not encouraging but it can wait.” He nuzzled the base of her neck then planted kisses up to her ear, across her jaw to her waiting lips. “You look a vision, my own, thank you for donning the colors of Nefar. We will be a matched pair tonight, a united front, yes?” Nadia came close to blurting her hearts secrets when his lips closed over hers in a thoroughly possessive taking. She was beginning to believe that Sherem did, indeed, love her even if he did not verbalize the sentiment. His actions would suffice for now. The message reflected in his eyes was as clear as any statement of devotion. Dakar and Tula met Sherem, Nadia, and a wraith-like Bran at the entrance of the link. Tula looked every bit the Princess she was and Dakar followed her every move like a besotted puppy. Nadia could not have been more pleased. She had no doubt the two would lifemate before long and her friend would become her sister-in-law—if she chose to remain mated to Sherem. He had pursued her for three cycles then claimed her in a most elemental way yet swore his feelings did not extend to love. How could she make him reassess his feelings for her? Even as she posed the question, she knew the answer. She couldn’t. She would have to rely time and patience. Nadia’s musings came to an 142

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abrupt halt when they entered Kindarak’s ship, the Stealth. It was lavish and opulent to an almost ridiculous degree. Ostentatious was too bland a word to describe it. Iridescent murals covered every wall and ceiling while thick patterned carpets covered the floors. Silks, satins and several materials not familiar, were dyed with garish abandon giving no thought to taste or appeal, draped every surface of table and seat. He led them into a huge auditorium that Nadia believed, at first, to be a dinner theatre. Rows of long tables and chairs faced the stage where a half moon intricately carved table, set with black macronadin plates and goblets, nestled five chairs behind it. Nadia realized with a sickening thud, as he led them up the stairs to the dais, that this was where they were to dine. Kindarak made a great show of placing Nadia to the left of the center chair and Tula to the right of it, with Sherem and Dakar on the ends while Kindarak sat in the middle. The chairs were made of dark ornate wood and thickly upholstered and the chair Kindarak sat in looked more like a throne. He even wore a cape that brushed the floor as he walked. He looked like some feudal lord above a sea of worshipping minions. Nadia wanted to laugh one moment and vomit the next. If he sought to impress he missed his mark, he looked more clown than king. And he seemed never to take his eyes from her. As the evening crawled slowly forward Nadia grew increasingly uncomfortable. He leaned closer and closer, quietly informing her of the contents and preparations of each dish seeking to create an intimate bond, ignoring the others. He complimented her on her clothing and actually touched her hair with the premise of examining the intricate silver roping woven into the thick braid down her back. Sherem noticed her extreme discomfort and kept hold of her hand under the table between all seven courses and gently squeezed her thigh while they ate. She was grateful for the connection. Though charming and attentive to a fault, it took all of Kindarak’s considerable control to leash his growing possessive fury. The object of his desire treated him with glacial politeness and aloof disregard. He tried every trick to make her relax and open to him but the more he pressed the more stubborn she became. He had a mare very similar to her before he taught her manners by repeated lashings. The image of Nadia tied and naked on his mat, disciplined into submission by his whip, made a tent on his lap he did not even try to conceal. Let her observe the eventual reward for her reticence. He was sweating with conjured images but it didn’t matter; his little charade grew to an end. He smiled magnanimously at all he surveyed. Seating Nadia at his left was a signal to his crew that she would be his next vict…mistress. He could almost taste the roaring river of 143

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passion hidden beneath her frigid façade. His eyes gleamed in satisfaction when a small ruckus erupted at the entrance of the hall. A junior crewmember from the Portender rushed to their table, Sherem and Dakar stood and moved to intercept him. “It’s Jorge, sir, he was attacked. We took him to Med Station One. He is asking for you. “Dakar, see our females back to the ship. I go with Denny.” Sherem grabbed his arm and whispered, “Be ready for anything. Bran will stay with you as backup. Dakar didn’t search for the ankou; for once he appeared grateful for his unobtrusive presence.

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Chapter Eighteen

Sherem raced through the link with Bran on his heels, ordering several of his most trusted warriors to guard the entrance and wait for the others then seal the entrance. “You were right in your suppositions, by the way,” Bran calmly pointed out, loping along beside Sherem. “What are you saying?” Sherem charged down the corridor to the jetquik and he and Bran piled in. “All of the survivors from our last attack were in that room staring up at you. Your instincts were correct.” “Yes, but did we learn the truth too late?” Sherem arrived on the bridge barking orders to prepare for link-drop and get underway while his senses screamed of peril; he knew Kindarak would launch first strike. He stopped at a wall COM and ordered their shields raised. It would tip off his suspicions but at this point, it was a matter of semantics; the snake of impending doom was slithering up his spine. “Sherem, the shields have been tampered with, they will not rise.” Sherem swore before answering, “Check all systems. Now! Report to me at Med Station One.” He ran full out to the med facility and did not stop until he was beside his captain. “Jorge, I am here. Report.” Meant as an order, it was spoken with great concern. “S-Sherem, it was Brian. I caught him tampering with the ship’s electrical systems, he tried to k-kill me but I was suited, as ordered.” Jorge forced a smile that came out as a grimace. “H-he was my friend. Trusted—don’t understand.” “I don’t think he is himself, Jorge. The tapes we reviewed showed Brian as our thief. We have reason to believe that he is an Angels Gate addict and controlled by his source, the real villain.”

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“Before I passed out he told me he was doing me a favor for we were about to be blown into oblivion and that the end he gave me was infinitely more pleasant than the one planned for you.” Jorge grabbed his arm and tried to sit. “You must be careful—“ “I know of the danger, Jorge, and who is behind it all—finally. Rest, all will be well.” Sherem turned to the EMT and a silent message passed between them. He followed Sherem to the outer chamber. “What is his condition?” he asked grimly. “As he told you, he was suited. It saved his life. Brian shot directly at his heart and bruised the muscle of the large aorta and will need time to heal. The med-tech unit has reduced the inflammation but the heart cannot be stressed for the next forty-eight hours.” Sherem nodded. “Fine, put him out and secure this and the other two Med Stations. Prepare for battle. Long life.” Sherem moved into the jet-quik and got off at the bridge just as a huge explosion rocked the Portender. Smoke and fire leapt from the counsel as warning sirens filled the bridge. “Engineering,” Sherem shouted over the din. “Do we have nuclear capability?” “Yes, sir,” came the faint reply. “Fine, get it ready. The Stealth has had her chance, now we will teach her not to mess with the Portender. Take no prisoners, Sami, launch all three and destroy her.” “Sherem!” Tula’s voice came over the COM. “Female, I am busy.” “Nadia is gone, Remy. Taken, somehow.” The wind whooshed from Sherem’s lungs; his entire being tripped off its axis. Gone. She couldn’t be gone. “What? What are you saying?” he rasped. “Wasn’t she with you and Dakar when you returned to the ship?” ”Yes, but then she vanished right before our eyes. I swear to you, Sherem, I would die to keep her safe but she just disappeared.” “Hold the order, Sami,” Sherem screamed and ran his hands through his hair as the terrifying truth hit him. Kindarak had used the dinner to plant a tracking device on Nadia then transhifted her aboard the Stealth just before firing. That is why he hadn’t dealt the Portender a harder blow; he wanted Sherem to realize Nadia was no longer aboard. Kindarak wanted to toy with him; to demonstrate his superior intellect by letting him to know that he had snatched Nadia right out from under him…he further knew that 146

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Sherem would not endanger her by firing on the Stealth. His options were few and tasted like sewage. “Sami,” he spoke calmly into the COM. “Standing by, sir.” “Are both shields and cloaking functions fully operational?” “Yes, sir, shields came online just now. Brian didn’t have time to complete his tinkering, the damage was minor.” “Good. Prepare one torpedo for launch and be ready to cloak and galaxy jump on my order. Load refuge canisters with debris and deploy in tandem with the torpedo—and Sami? “Sir?” “Millisec timing is essential if we are to make it through alive. Is that understood?” “It is now, sir.” “What do you intend? You can’t fire on the Stealth and disappear; Nadia is on that ship. You put that damn tracking device on her wrist; have you located her? Is she somewhere on the Portender? Damn it, talk to me,” Dakar demanded as he rushed to Sherem’s side. He had entered the bridge just as Sherem had given the order. “Easy Dakar, I would sooner take my own life than pluck a hair from her head.” Sherem ran his hands through his mane, once again, in frustrated agony. What he was planning could cost all of his shipmates their lives as opposed to the one of his mate. Faced with a terrible quandary and a horrible choice, it had to rest with her. Nadia was his to protect and if he had to die trying then let the fates rule. He turned to his brother. “We are going to play dead and then obligingly explode when next he attacks by firing our own nuclear bullet to meet his and expunge enough debris, hopefully, to convince him of his victory. I would so hate to disappoint our dear Uncle.” His mind raced through all the possible scenarios striving to maximize their chances for success. If they could fool Kindarak into thinking he had won they could then follow, cloaked, and wait for a chance to overtake them, possibly with assistance from the Miramid. If they were unable to snatch Nadia soon, surely his honorary uncle would light somewhere with his prize. It seemed strange and highly suspect that not even his parents knew of Kindarak’s roots or home planet. They had taken much on faith after he had saved their father’s life. Hopefully the children would not have to pay for a parent’s naiveté. But first things first. 147

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Dakar smiled grimly. “You are planning to galaxy jump.” Sherem nodded, his gaze fastened on the Stealth’s firing panel visible on the outside bottom of the ship. Sweat beaded and ran down his forehead but he dared not blink and miss their opportunity. There it was; a slight ping of light and wisp of smoke emanating from the Stealth’s launchers. Kindarak was through gloating. “Now, Sami!” Sherem shouted, pounded the button on the console, then grabbed his brother and hit the floor. An explosion rocked the Portender before it hit hyperspace but no alarms sounded; no sound to divulge their ploy. “Sami, damage report,” Sherem requested quietly, somewhat surprised at his steady demeanor. “The explosion hit us on the port side but the damage does not appear crippling. I will notify you when we have more information,” Sami responded. “Fine,” Sherem answered, and then COM’d down to the Med-unit. “This is Sherem, what is Jorge’s condition?” “He is stable, not to worry. Oh, and we are fine, as well.” “My apologies.” He could hear chuckling in the background. Sherem couldn’t help but grin. They had made it.

*** Kindarak sat in his chambers awashed in the splendor of victory and laughed aloud. He had done it, killed two brothers with one strike. The way lay paved for him to complete his goal. He would have all he desired, all he deserved that had been stolen from him—and an unexpected juicy fruit to taste at his leisure. He stood and began the ceremonial dance of victory practiced by his people. He found himself utterly peeved at being disturbed. “What do you want? Didn’t I give orders for privacy?” “You did, sir, but—“ “You will in future address me as “Your Excellency”, you dolt, and if I have to remind you a second time, it will mean your life. Is that clear?” “Uh, yes, Your Excellency. I am sorry to intrude but we need a cross bearing, Your Er-Excellency.” Kindarak liked the sound of his new title, it was more in line with his future station. It sort of just rolled off the tongue—“Your Excellency”—yes it would do for the time being but as to their next destination… 148

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Should he proceed to Nefar with the tragic news of the Portender’s destruction with all on board? He would say that he had raced to their aide only to be too late…such a shame. Rand, of course would be sent for immediately and Kindarak would remain to comfort them all in their time of need. In addition, it would allow him the time he needed to determine how best to eliminate his trusted friend, King Nefar. Hmmm, that strategy could take weeks…No, he would collect Rand himself as an errand to the grieving parents. After he had Rand on the Stealth, they could COM the King and Queen together. After all, he must solidify his relationship with Rand, since he would soon be his new father. In learning the news of his two elder son’s deaths, the King would fall slowly into decline until his assisted death…while Kindarak would be there to support the grieving widow and old love. The love and only love of his life. The Queen, he was quite sure, would go along with his plans. Rand was his natural son, after all. They would welcome a strong male to support him and act as a trusted advisor. Yes, Kindarak thought, the power behind the throne. And about time. He should have acceded to the throne on his home planet of Myveria but his comrade snitched making him persona non gratis. Such a fuss about a little house cleaning, his father was decrepit and barely lucid. It had been past time for him to take his rightful place but unfortunately there were two additional witnesses making it three against his word. He laughed out loud. Wimpmiesters, the lot of them. They didn’t even have the guts to kill him. As the royal son they merely banished him to a non-life of piracy…until now. And he couldn’t wait, he had learned much in forty cycles. His plan was foolproof. And then he paused. He would need time with Rand to forge a stronger bond until turning to his Uncle would seem natural…and time with his new mistress. Perhaps he could make her a number two mate. Nefar custom allowed such or just deposit her in his already existing harem. His female slaves remained sequestered and cut off from the rest of the universe. Yes, perhaps he would simply let Nadia die along with the Portender. He grinned at the sheer brilliance of his scheme. No one, as yet, knew of the Portender’s demise let alone that he held the Prince of Kerr and his crew as his “guests”. It allowed him ample time in which to decide the final fate of his many vict…er visitors. “Your Excellency? May we have a heading?” the disembodied voice quivered. This time Kindarak smiled graciously. “Yes, Smead, we go to the Knowledge Planet with all speed. Oh, and Smead; keep a look-out for any ship making galaxy jump.” Kindarak just hated loose ends like the Miramid and purported tales of telepathy 149

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inherent in Gattonians. He found it very difficult to believe and yet he had witnessed Ryder’s telekinetic powers. He supposed anything was possible.

*** “Do you have a line on them, Drake?” Sherem asked. Brian had been Jorge’s first navigation officer. Drake, his second, now took over that function. Drake had been nervous and tense, stammering his innocence and outrage at Brian’s acts for a full two minutes before Sherem put a halt to it. His current movements over the console were stilted but precise; he knew his job and might even surpass Brian in knowledge. As his first navigation officer grew more comfortable, he began to chatter. “I have him on the screen, Sir, he is leaving a trail a rookie could follow.” He turned to Sherem, a large grin splitting his face. “He bought it, Sir; he thinks he destroyed the Portender. It was a most brilliant exercise in stealth, if you don’t mind the pun. What do we do next?” Sherem grinned back. “We effect repairs until all is fully operational and follow at a discreet distance.” It was highly unlikely that Kindarak would have let down his guard unless completely sure of his success. So for the moment they were safe and held the advantage. He would never get another chance at the Portender or Nadia, once he got her back. Drake’s console began to blink and he turned to receive a transmission. “Sir, it is the Miramid.” “I’ll take it in my chambers,” Sherem stated grimly and stalked from the bridge. “I am here, Zorroc, speak.” “What in hells booty are you about? You almost galaxy jumped on top of us; it took all our efforts to avoid colliding. And where is my sister, she does not answer my greeting.” “Well, if you insist on flitting about the universe cloaked, you should expect the occasional close call,” Sherem replied laconically. When the jump was made to the Milky Way, he did not specifically have his mind on the Miramid and her location but hoped to materialize as close to her as possible to avoid detection from the Stealth in case they didn’t quite trust the destruction of the Portender and executed a jump of their own. But Zorroc didn’t have to know that yet.

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“Well, what were you doing cloaked in the process of a jump? That was a risky proposition, mercenary. One that never should have been attempted with my sister aboard.” “If my mate was aboard, I would not have had to resort to it. We need to link and plan a strategy for her safe return,” he responded, resigned to the tongue-lashing he knew would come. “What have you done to Nadia? Damn you barbarian, if there is a hair on her head damaged, your life as my sister’s mate will be a short one. We’ll trans you over for your explanation,” Zorroc growled. “I have my reasons for linking, brother, just prepare for link and I’ll explain afterward,” Sherem reiterated. He smiled as he heard Zorroc mumble about the “brother” comment. The console began blinking signaling another COM, this one from the Med Center. “End transmission.” Sherem terminated the COM to intercept the next. “Speak.” “It’s Rollins, Sir. About the autopsies...” Sherem waited a moment before demanding, “Spit it out Rollins, my time is short.” “They were jazzed on a drug I’ve never seen before that does contain Assyllis, but there was something else…” “Report, Rollins, I’m not a prompter.” “Er, yes sir, of course not sir…” “Now,” Sherem roared. “They were bugged in the same place,” Rollins blurted. “Underneath the skin on the back of the neck.” “Is it a homing device?” he asked quickly. “I believe so, sir. Should I bring it to you?” “Is it live?” “It’s blinking.” “Then stomp on it, you idiot, and then disintegrate it. And I mean now. Is it dead?” Sherem heard a crash followed by a laser. “Yes sir, it’s gone now.” Sherem cut the connection and turned to Bran. “Go to the Med Center and make absolutely sure the homing chips are destroyed.” 151

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“More those likely those bugs held more intelligence than your MTE,” Bran commented, padding into the jetquik. Sherem was escorted to Zorroc’s private chambers within the hour. He started to sweat again, this was even worse than plotting a life or death invasion. Maybe being blown to bits a few hours ago would have been less painful than what he was about to endure. He took a deep breath as the panel opened to reveal Zorroc, his mate Catarina, and three tiny rollicking children bouncing off every surface of the room. Shrill shouts, accusations, and baby laughter filled every crevice of the room. Sherem stood motionless; afraid he’d step on one of the miniature pocket rockets. Cat observed the giant warrior known as the Warrior Prince and hid a grin. The expression on Sherem’s face was hysterical. He took one step into the chamber which tripped the closing of the panel and froze. He glanced back, trapped and panic-stricken, clearly searching for a way to escape. Cat knew exactly how he felt. They were a handful. Okay, several handfuls—on a good day. They seemed to notice their guest together and froze in mid mischief. Trina made a beeline for the back of Cat’s legs, and Nadi scrambled for Zorroc while Zory boldly approached the dark giant before him. The top of his head came to Sherem’s knee. Sherem looked every bit the warrior he was purported to be. His hair was straggly and unkempt, a rigid scar dissected one eyebrow, and every contour of his face appeared carved into granite. His massive shoulders and chest, corded arms and chiseled abs and legs reminded Cat of a mountain. He son obviously agreed because he spouted belligerently, “I could climb you, I bet.” Sherem glanced down and growled, “Yeah, well I could eat you.” Zory screamed and decided to climb his father, instead. What Nadia saw in this harsh being completely eluded her. Zorroc growled warningly, popping his son onto his shoulders. “What in hell is going on? Why weren’t you at the appointed co-ordinates and what have you done with Nadia?” Zorroc roared; closing on Sherem slowly, impeded by Nadi’s clasped legs and arms around one of Zorroc’s calves and Zory’s death grip covering one eye. Catarina hid a smile as she put her hand on Zorroc’s arm to halt his progress. “Zorroc, sweetheart, give the poor man a chance to explain.” “He is male not man. Different species, my own,” Zorroc tenderly clarified. 152

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“Man, male—you’re all alike but let’s please try to leash the testosterone cacophony running wilder than our children. Sherem, please sit down. Let me get some jive for all of us, I think choc-tea is a bit light considering the circumstances.” She stifled Zorroc’s coming denial without a word then leveled a don’t-mess-with-me look at Sherem. She may be small but she was potent. She had learned to stay ahead of these cat-men, as she had persisted to think of them. The implacable cat-stare they exchanged would clue anyone into their true nature. Well, that and the way they moved—with the fluid grace of a panther—currently circling one another. Cat pressed a glass into each hand and then sat. Both cats…er…men...er…males…accepted the brew and stood down though Sherem remained by the panel as if ready to flee at any moment. “It is good to see you, Catarina, I am glad to see your children are well.” He turned to Zorroc. “You have not changed a bit, Zorroc. We have much to discuss if we are to free your sister. Your normal blustering will only deter us further,” he stated gruffly. The nanny arrived to take charge of the children but Cat could see she had no way around the massive figure acting as another door to the room. Cat sighed. “Children, go with Camille, she’ll take you for some ice cream and then the romper-room.” Sherem visibly paled as the three miniature torpedoes charged straight for him. Trina and Nadi went through his legs and Zory wound past his right calve grabbing hold as he sprang out the exit. Still he remained frozen, apparently too horrified to move. Cat went over and took his arm, and led him to a chair. “Just breathe, Sherem, you’ll recover in a moment,” Cat advised soothingly as she plucked him down. Zorroc stuck a drink in front of his face and toasted him; Sherem downed the drink in one swallow. “Talk,” Zorroc barked. “It is a long story but in essence, my honorary uncle, Kindarak, has taken Nadia. He may want her for ransom or for himself; he seemed inordinately fixated on her when I introduced them.” “I don’t understand how you could let this happen,” Zorroc began. “He planted a homing device on her while he entertained us on his ship for he trans’d her right out from under the watchful eye of my brother while I prepared a surprise of my own. He hopefully thinks the Portender is destroyed. It was our intent. 153

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That is the reason we attempted galaxy jump cloaked. We wanted to make him think he succeeded so I could rescue my uh—your sister.” “I am lost. Begin at the beginning.” Sherem painstakingly filled them in when all he wanted was to go after his mate and kill the maniac who had dared steel her. The ‘who’ behind the attacks on his life while framing his brother for the deeds, the one responsible for the traitors aboard the Portender, the supplier of Angels Gate, the kidnapper of his mate; all of the acts pointed irrefutably to Kindarak. The one question remaining was why? As a trusted member of the family of Baraden, Kindarak gained many an entrance into commerce and society that would have been impossible for him to achieve from another source. Plus, the unconditional friendship and trust bestowed upon him by the King and Queen of Nefar and Godfather of all three royal children. Why throw away more than thirty cycles of belonging, friendship, and trust? For monetary reasons alone? The facts and conjectures played over and over in his head like a program loop in a computer system. He was missing something vital, the key to the puzzle. An undetonated photon missile possibly aimed toward all he held dear. He clenched his jaw so hard it felt like hardened cement, his fists tight like steel pistons longed for action, only lacking their target. He hoped he had the control to extract explanations before shredding Kindarak into bloody strips. “So what is your plan? I assume you have one for getting my sister back safely…” Zorroc lifted an eyebrow and waited while Catarina paced, becoming more upset by the moment. “Z, can’t you reach her through mind-speak?” Cat pleaded. “Not until we achieve galaxy jump to our galaxy which we can acomplish in a matter of hours,” Zorroc answered. “Actually the Portender is ready now. My plan is to jump in tandem with the Miramid so if Kindarak is paying attention it looks like only one ship. The Portender will remain cloaked while we probe for your sister through her tracking bracelet and you communicate with her telepathically. If you catch the attention of the Stealth, all the better. It would seem only natural that you would initially mistake the Stealth for the Portender. After they identify themselves, you can send greetings, even get chummy and inquire about the Portender. Just don’t allow them near enough to detect us or attack. My ‘uncle’ has turned predator and requires no reason to attach and destroy. I intend to 154

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rid the world of his presence as soon as I can extricate my mate. I no longer care about the bond he holds with our family. When he took Nadia, his life became forfeit.” Zorroc studied him for a moment. It was a good plan. There was even an outside possibility that he would release Nadia to him, surely it was widely known that most Gattonians were telepathic. “Will Kindarak be familiar with the telepathic abilities of Gattonians, most in our galaxy seem to be. Maybe it would be wise to volunteer my telepathic link to my sister when I contact him.” “Zazu, I almost forgot about that, and I pray that Kindarak doesn’t think of it. He might just kill Nadia to cover his tracks. As it is, he can simply plead ignorance or say that we had departed some hours before. I can’t remember if I mentioned the Miramid. Bran will know,” he decided. Cat felt a presence before she could ask Sherem who Bran was, then was stunned into immobility as she stared when a hairy monster solidly materialized beside her. Zorroc, hearing the silent scream, jumped from his seat, lodging Cat behind him, and had dagger drawn before Sherem could utter a word. His reflexes, however, allowed him to grasp and still Zorroc’s hand. The past days and lackadaisical response from Nadia and Tula to Bran made Zorroc’s and Cat’s reaction all the more shocking, spiking his adrenalin. “Meet Bran,” Sherem squeezed out between gritted teeth at the effort of keeping Zorroc still. Zorroc didn’t take his eyes off Bran as he asked, “What is that?” “That is my friend and bodyguard and deserves your respect. He saved my life almost a cycle ago and has been at my side ever since. Bran,” Sherem said, turning to his friend, “this is Nadia’s family, as you already know.” “Well, he certainly has my respect. Is, uh, is he friendly?” Cat asked. “Only to those who are friendly in return. Nadia took to him at first sight, they even communicate telepathically.” Cat turned back to Bran and studied him with interest. Her shy and sometimes timid sister-in-law didn’t run from this monstrous mongrel? Sherem read the question in her expressive eyes. “Their acceptance of each other came as somewhat of a surprise to me, as well. Bran is an ankou and most likely more intelligent than our own species.”

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“Wow. I’m sorry for being so, um, startled, Bran, it’s nice to meet you. I would imagine keeping this mercenary warrior alive is a full-time occupation.” Bran gifted her with a full-toothed grin and bark. “If you can speak to Nadia telepathically; do you know if she is all right?” Catarina’s question caught Sherem by surprise and he looked to Bran. “Telepathy cannot traverse galaxies,” Zorroc stated, “but as soon as we make the jump I will be able to reach her.” “Arrogant humans; she is unconscious. He incapacitated her almost immediately and I presume will keep her that way until he believes she cannot be heard or contacted. It might be useful for Kindarak to believe that this one’s telepathic abilities are quite limited.” He yanked his head in Zorroc’s direction. Sherem fought to hide the grin as he offered, “Bran told me that Kindarak rendered her unconscious, possibly to assure no one can mind-speak with her. He believes it would be wise to let him believe that your powers in that area are limited and even weak so he will allow her to awaken. Maybe you can let it slip during your conversation with Kindarak.” Zorroc pinned the ankou with a steely stare. “Perhaps that would be wise, if we can finesse a conversation to reveal it,” he murmured then added. “And we will make her powers weak unless he already knows differently. Which brings us to the original question. How much does he know about our plans to meet?” All eyes focused on the ankou but Sherem replied. “The rendezvous with the Miramid was never mentioned but he would have been informed of the intent to locate her. It was the primary mission.” “Where do you think he will try to take her?” Cat asked, not liking the way the ankou was measuring her mate. “The sooner we return to our galaxy, the sooner we will know,” Sherem answered.

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Chapter Nineteen

Sonny crept closer to the voices and froze, straining to hear the conversation. He dared not venture any closer for fear of reprisal. The last time he’d been caught spying, they’d thrown him in a dark hole until he could no longer stand. That was when he made the discovery that saved his life. The ventilation ducts that catacombed the massive ship and led to hundreds of hidey holes. Long after the crew had forgotten his existence, he had stored clothes, food, and blankets in every section of the Stealth. Sun had outsmarted them all. It was quiet in the deserted cabin, once again. He waited, still as mold and then moved as light as dust toward the vent opening. He waited some more before peeking through the grid. A shiny inert lump covered the berth where he occasionally slept. He didn’t think it was a trap to draw him out but he had to be careful. He laid out flat about a foot from the grid and waited. He finally slept making no movement. Nadia rolled over onto her back and groaned from staying in the same position for too long. Her right hip and thigh were asleep and her neck felt like it had been clamped in a vice. Where was she? Not on the Portender she instantly realized. Her pulse jumped so hard she felt her heart jerk into her throat and she groaned again. She had been kidnapped for the third time, if she counted Dakar. And she knew that this time would not be nearly so pleasant. Zazu, this was getting old; she wasn’t even as frightened as the last time. Checking her wrist for her bracelet, Nadia sighed at the feel of warm metal encircling her pulse point. Sherem would find her…or her brother. “Rocky, are you there?” Nothing. “Bran, can you read me?” Nadia felt something strange, a probing…then nothing. Dead space. Where were they, had Kindarak galaxy jumped to the Milky Way or another island universe, possibly 157

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unknown to Sherem or Zorroc? A fission of fear zapped through her making her shiver unexpectedly. They would find her; the alternative was too ghastly to contemplate. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, shapes began to emerge. A shapeless blob about three feet high and two feet round was heaped in a corner of the small cell. Something that could be an ancient commode stood in another corner and then there was the narrow cot she occupied. Not exactly quality accommodations which somewhat surprised her considering Kindarak’s opulent taste in all things. Was she to his taste? The thought sent another tremor through her. If he tried to touch her, her skin would probably crystallize and jump off her frame like so many fleas. That vision caused an inappropriate giggle bubbling through her parched lips. She froze at a slight creaking sound adjacent her cot as a portion of wall seemed to shimmer and move exposing a black hole, and then something began to emerge, snaking its way toward her. A balloon of air began to fill her diaphragm and rose slowly to form a horror filled scream when a small, child-like voice whispered “Shh”. Nadia forced her eyes open as far as she could; not believing her senses. A tiny human took shape before her. “Wh-what are you,” Nadia whispered breathlessly. He huffed impatiently. “I am a boy. What do I look like?” “How did you find me? Did he send you to frighten six cycles off my heart?” Why she was so certain of her abductor she didn’t bother to contemplate. She simply knew it for the truth. The child snorted. “Not likely, he thinks I’m dead.” A whispered “I hope” followed his statement. He took a step closer and added. “I saw them bring you in but it took a while to find you and then I had to wait until I was sure they had gone, and then I had to wait until you woke up. Did he buy you too?” he wanted to know. “No, I am the Princess of Gattonia and mate to the Prince of Nefar. He kidnapped me from our ship.” Nadia had scant experience speaking with little people and wondered how much he understood about grown-ups and their motives…and evil. She couldn’t make out his expression, which made the task of communicating even more difficult. She forged ahead and hoped she was taking the right tact. “I believe he is not a nice person, maybe even bad.” “You are mistaken; he is the devil, himself,” he assured her, standing erect, with his hands on his hips. 158

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Nadia nodded in the dark but had a feeling he saw her perfectly. “What is your name and how old are you?” He looked no more than a few cycles older than her nephews. “I can’t remember the name my mama called me, I think it was Rees, but here they call me Sonny. I don’t know how old I am cuz I don’t know how long I’ve been here.” He sighed and turned his head away. “Seems like forever. I excaped’em long time ago and live in the tunnels that supply oxygen and tempcontrol. Cook leaves me food by the kitchen vent at night and sometimes other stuff.” Sonny’s voice sounded hoarse as if he hadn’t spoken for a while. Considering how he lived, Nadia was not surprised. How could they mistreat a child this way. He couldn’t be more than six cycles even if he were large for his age, which Nadia doubted strongly. He was wraith thin as if he’d been slowly starved. She wanted to sob her eyes out for him but knew he’d take great offense at her concern. He obviously was extremely brave and had fended for himself for who knew how long. He deserved respect and she would give it to him. “My name is Nadia and I’m very happy to have a friend here in this scary place. You will be my friend, won’t you Sonny?” “Sure, you’re just a girl and need taking care of. I always took care of my ma ‘til we ran out of food…” His voice trailed off and Nadia thought he might begin to cry but he emitted no sound. She cleared her throat. “Is there a light in here? My eyes aren’t used to the dark like I’ll bet yours are.” “It’s not safe to light the panel, they’ll know you’re awake and come for ya, but I’ve got something that won’t alert them.” He pulled out a flicker, a small hand held illumination device and switched it on. The room glowed dimly, similar to candlelight and Nadia got her first real glimpse of her comrade. His feline eyes dominated his face. Dark skin stretched tightly across his cheekbones, forehead, and chin below a ratted mop of black shoulder length hair. Ragged, torn, dirty shirt and shorts ripped just above his bony knees covered his small frame. His feet were bare. When Nadia met his steady gaze, proud, defiant, and impossibly weary; her heart lurched. He had the soul of an seasoned warrior, an expression Sherem wore on occasion that proclaimed he had witnessed too much of the dark side of life. “You are obviously clever, smart and canny to have alluded Kindarak and his minions and to have picked your allies well. I hope you will consider me one because 159

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when my mate comes for me, and he will; you will come with me and begin a new life of freedom and light. I swear this to you, Sonny, on my honor as a Princess.” Sonny smiled sadly. “I all ready have my freedom; leastways more than you, and where would I go? These tunnels are my home, the only one I know. I don’t know where I came from or if my mama is alive and would even want me back,” he admitted gravely. “You would have a home with me, Sonny. Sherem and I will adopt you, if you like us, and if not you can be employed in an important position and have money of your own.” Nadia explained this wanting only to secure his co-operation for there was no way she would leave him in such dire circumstances. What mother would sell her child into this kind of hell? Whatever the answer, it would end when Sherem came for her because she would not leave without him. His haunted expression was followed by a fast scurried movement toward the ventilation grid and sudden blackness. “They come,” his disembodied whisper warned. “Play dead or they’ll drug you again. I’ll be back later with food.” He gulped audibly then disappeared with no further sound. Nadia collapsed on the cot and ordered her breathing and heart rate to mimic sleep but her pulse thundered every beat muffling her hearing. “Get up, you,” one announced as he entered. The aroma of hot food filled the chamber. She willed her stomach not to growl. He moved to where her head lie and lifted a square board hanging on the wall to a horizontal position making a small table and plunked the food on it. Another guard walked to her and shook hard. She groaned but remained lax. “He said she’d come around about now. How we supposed to get her to eat if she’s still out?” “Maybe she’s faking. A couple of hard pops ought to get her attention.” “He said no rough stuff. She’s to be left unspoiled!” he mimicked the last part. “All right then.” The second guard approached her and screamed in her ear, “Princess, this here food will be eaten or we’ll stuff it down your throat when we get back.” The two opened the panel and retreated down the corridor. “Why does he care if the bitch eats?”

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“It’s drugged. Keeps her from trying to contact any of her people. She’s got the telepathy thing, the master says.” Nadia overheard the fading conversation though she wouldn’t have touched the food no matter what. A barely audible scratching followed and a small hand snaked out snatching the plate and goblet. They disappeared for a moment then retuned empty. “You don’t want that,” the childish voice said. “I’ll visit later with some other stuff that won’t make you sleepy.” “Thank you, Sonny,” she answered to the darkness.

*** “She is awake and attempting to reach us,” Bran commented to the chaotic voices trying to figure out the best way to rescue Nadia and terminate the Stealth. Sudden silence ensued for a long moment. “You can communicate with her over galaxies? She is speaking? Is she all right, what is her location, what does she know of Kindarak’s plans?” “Cease, Sherem!” Bran insisted. “She is awake but alone and knows nothing.” “Are you sure he is reading Nadia? Telepathy is thought impossible unless both parties inhabit the same galactic nebula or species,” Zorroc explained. “Inform small minded fool that it is that belief that sets the barrier not the varying nebula.” Sherem fought to hide the grin striving for purchase. “Er, he said his telepathic path, um, can breach the universes.” Zorroc looked at him doubtfully before turning to Bran. “What does she know? Let’s make galaxy jump immediately so I can speak with her.” Zorroc stood and made for the panel, ready to make final preparations. Cat remained seated, staring at the ankou. “Wait,” Sherem commanded, also contemplating Bran. “Nadia must not know we survived. Kindarak will visit her to gloat over the Portender’s destruction and her reactions must be genuine or he may be on to us.” Turning to his now brother in-law. “Zorroc, you must pretend ignorance of the whereabouts of my ship after galaxy jump is accomplished. Can you shield from her or will she know you are lying?” Zorroc sighed. “She is the strongest telepath I have ever felt. I have tried to hide that fact from her but heaven only knows what she has plucked from my mind. Can I shield my knowledge from her? Possibly, but you underestimate Nadia because even if 161

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Kindarak or I tell her of your supposed fate, she will not believe it, and trying to convince her would be pointless. So her reaction either way will be the same.” “But you will try.” “I will try.” “And your mate?” Sherem skewed Catarina. “Don’t look at me, I don’t have the gift.” At Sherem’s continued scrutiny Cat blurted, “Okay, I can read my mate, but that is the extent of my talent. And that fact is confidential for security reasons.” Zorroc looked at his mate with bemused humor. “You couldn’t lie if your life depended upon it,” he messaged. “Stop it, he is family. He has a right to know, it will probably happen to him, as well, when he and Nadia become closer.” Zorroc tilted his head in hot, knowing contemplation. “I believe you are right, my one.” His heated look made her blush like an untried female. “Enough, both of you. Telepathy is not necessary to know your precise thoughts,” Sherem stated. “Careful, Leader of Gattonia, or your mate will drop another litter of maniacs you affectionately refer to as children.” Sherem belly laughed at Zorroc’s paled complexion. Catarina joined in Sherem’s laughter and patted her mate on the knee. “Just breathe, sweetheart,” she advised. Zorroc was not at all amused. “Just wait, barbarian, for your own ‘Litter’,” he responded. Sherem sobered immediately, he would tolerate twenty little maniacs for the safe return of his mate. “Do not concern yourself, my friend, we will not fail,” Bran messaged. “Let us prepare to jump, and after Nadia is safe by my side—blow Kindarak to his new home in hell,” Sherem ordered.

*** “What do you intend?” the Kerrdic Prince demanded. “Ah, Ryder, I believe we have an opportunity that cannot be ignored. The Portender with the two eldest princes have been dusted and now we have the Miramid, purported to carry not only the Leader of Gattonia but also his mate and heirs. The temptation to repeat my former performance, I find almost irresistible. All that lovely 162

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Assyllis.” He turned to Ryder who was visibly sweating and had paled to ghost white. “Did you order your two star ships to the co-ordinates I gave you?” Kindarak asked silkily. “Yes,” Ryder lied easily. If it cost him his life, so be it, but he would not risk more of Kerr’s fighting forces and innocent lives just to accommodate a drugged up psychopath. “Good—“ Kindarak hesitated before continuing, noticing Ryder’s slight tremble, then added, “boy,” he finished. “I believe it will be a most unfortunate accident, a dreadful misunderstanding and you, Prince Ryder, will swear to it. I will, of course, take over Gattonia—“ “You promised Nadia to me. I should be the one to rule Gattonia as her lifemate.” Silence reined indefinitely while Kindarak studied the rebellious pup. He would like to eliminate him but he needed those starships to carry out his plans. Kindarak thought. Nadia was his; he had stolen her and she was his to do with as he wished. He decided to play along Ryder, at least for the immediate future. “I gave you my word and of course it will stand. You can have the chit.” Ryder let out an audible sigh before adding, “The key, your Excellence. I would visit my future mate and why is she being held a prisoner in that dank windowless pit. She is a princess and should be treated with more courtesy. It is not like she can escape.” “She could be telepathic, the room she inhabits is lead-lined. I was told that it blocks messaging or so the previous owner bragged.” Toward the end of their…association. At the time Kindarak thought him lack-brained—reading someone’s mind seemed far-fetched at best. But now he was grateful for the amenity. Fate continued to favor him. “Take some things to her if you must but don’t expect her to thank you, I am keeping her sedated. Here is the panel code.” When Ryder reached for the card, Kindarak snatched it away. “One more thing, my boy, I will rule Nefar and mate with her queen and I will allow nothing to stand in my way. And you, Prince Ryder, will make sure that Kerr welcomes me as an ally, the consequences if you prevaricate will prove…unfortunate.” Ryder tersely nodded and left without a word. Ryder rushed back to his POD as fast as he could without actually fleeing like the coward he was. Zazu, Kindarak really had annihilated the Portender, a feat all believed impossible. Ryder could not comprehend a universe without Sherem, the greatest warrior of all time. The male was an icon, more than a legend and Kindarak had blasted him into 163

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the next realm. He wanted to cry. Sherem was someone he both hated and worshipped. Worshipped because everyone loved an unbeatable force that risked his life for the good of those weaker than himself and hated him for the same reason because three cycles past Ryder was one of those he’d had to save—rescue like an untried youth mired in a clumsy, perilous mess. One that could have ended his life if not for the Prince of Nefar. Sherem took on a gaming room full of gambling smugglers and mean drunks and bested or killed them all, while Ryder cringed in a corner watching it unfold. He moved with the grace and speed of a panther; pivoting, flexing, leaping, and veering with such sure execution he looked like a dancer in some macabre ballet. Never had he seen the like…and now he never would again. He wanted to weep, but it was too late; too late for everything. He may continue to breathe but his life was over. And now Kindarak planned to destroy the Miramid and claim Gattonia—Ryder knew that with the same surety that he, the Golden Prince of Kerr, had allowed it to happen, even assisted. Zazu, he wanted to die; too bad he was too much of a coward to accomplish even that like a male. If he only had it to do over, he would set his stupid pride aside and help Sherem kick Kindarak into the realm of the damned where he so rightly belonged. He and Satan would love each other—two peas in a boiling pod. He halted in mid-stride. But there was one thing he could do; rescue the princess and put her into the safe hands of her brother. Even better, he could warn her of Kindarak’s plans and let her telepathically relay the information to Zorroc. If he couldn’t save Sherem and the Portender he might be able to extricate Nefar and Gattonia from the clutches of a megalomaniac. If he accomplished that, maybe he could stand to look himself in the mirror, once again. Ryder raced with new purpose and prayed to Zazu and all the other Gods and messengers above to let him succeed.

*** “Thank you, Sonny, come sit beside me while I eat.” Nadia hesitated, had he given up his meal for her? He was so painfully thin. Nadia knew that boys destined to be exceptionally large often looked too thin. Their bodies simply couldn’t get enough fuel no matter how much they consumed. Nadia herself was an example. She was more live wire than girl. Again she observed Sonny and noticed the slight bulge of his stomach. Instinctively she knew it was not from over-eating or a full belly but the first signs of starvation. The sight robbed her of what little appetite she had. She had consumed approximately half of what he brought. She grabbed her stomach and groaned. “Oh, 164

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Sonny, I appreciate the meal but I believe the drug they fed me must have soured my stomach…and there is so much left. What can we do?” Sonny fell on the food, assuring her not to be concerned; he would not let it be discovered. Nadia fought against a telling grin. He may be exceptionally bright but he was still just a growing boy. She patted his head imagining what his hair would look like clean and brushed. Tears filled her eyes with the image of them together laughing with him clean and well nourished. If she thought he would allow it, she would hug him to within an inch of his life. Sherem had no way of knowing but they would be starting their family a little early. “Nadia,” Zorroc messaged. Nadia grabbed Sonny and whispered that her brother had found her. Sonny looked like she had lost her senses. “I’m telepathic, that means I can talk to my brother through my mind just like we do when we’re together. He will save us, Sonny, will you sit on my lap while I communicate with him?” Sonny scrambled away. “Uh, I’ll just go and get rid of the plate but I’ll be back, do not be afraid Nadia.” He disappeared through the vent leaving his light behind. Nadia smiled after him and then turned her mind to her brother. “Rocky, where are you?” “That’s supposed to be my line, dizzy.” Nadia teared up at the childhood nickname. “Trapped on a madman’s ship; be careful Zorroc, this guy is truly certifiable. Have you connected with Sherem? Why won’t Bran answer me? I’m almost positive he touched my mind.” Zorroc ignored the reference to the ankou. “I don’t know what happened but the Portender was not at the agreed upon co-ordinates, he must have galaxy jumped. I’m sure he’ll turn up, he always does. Remember that, baby, when things get rough. Do you know your location?” “Of course not, I’m stuck in not a nice cell while my hosts are determined to drug me so I can’t speak to you.” “Are you starving yourself?” His tone was urgent almost frantic. That was the thing about brothers, they never outgrew their over-protective gene. “No, I found a friend who is prisoner, as well. There will be two of us vacating, I will not leave without him.” “Him?” Zorroc asked tentatively. 165

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“Him,” Nadia confirmed. “The most clever, brave, inventive boy of five cycles you will ever meet.” Zorroc chuckled in her mind and Nadia was afraid she would lose her brave façade and start blubbering like a helpless female any moment. “Rocky, find Sherem, he put one of those tracking devices on my wrist. He can just trans me out but it will have to be timed so that I can take Sonny with me.” “Sonny like s-o-n or S-u-n?” “You know, I’m not sure. He may not know either, but I will ask. Geez, picky, picky. What does it matter? Just find Sherem and spring us.” “You sound just like Cat when you put it that way,” Zorroc remarked. “Yeah, well lay down with Cat, wake up with slang. You spend enough time with someone and you pick up a few things. Sometimes I think Sherem is convinced that Cat is a bad influence on me.” “You’re just growing into your own person. A very vibrant, special, independent one.” It seemed that he wanted to say something else but stopped himself. “Rocky, is everything alright—the tri-terrorists, Cat, the aunts?” “Trust me, baby, you’re the only one in peril and don’t discount it but I promise I’ll get you and your new boyfriend out. You realize that another male could make your mate jealous.” “I’ll take my chances. If you can’t reach me, the bad guys succeeded in drugging me again but I’m still here. Zorroc, find Sherem. He wouldn’t leave me in this situation, I’m beginning to worry.” “Baby, I thought I could do this but I can’t. The Portender and your pigheaded mate are just fine. He thought it best to keep you out of the loop but I have faith you’ll play it just right and not give us away. Kindarak tried to destroy the Portender but your cunning fox fired a nucspike and expunged enough debris and dead bodies to convince him the Portender is no more.” “If Sherem is really with you and everything is alright then why do need my coordinates?” “You must be in a cell that blocks tracking devices. Ask if you can go for a walk.” “Do you honestly believe they’re that stupid?” 166

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“I won’t bother with a reply. Everything will work out, Nadia. We all love you and don’t worry about us; we know what we’re dealing with. One last thing, Dizzy, play down your telepathic capabilities and maybe they will stop drugging it. And don’t forget your defense lessons.” The link went blank.

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Chapter Twenty

Sherem, felt like he was coming out of his skin—if this was love he wanted no part of it. Every hour spent away from his mate-defined torture. What was Kindarak doing to her? Would he crush the spirit blooming within Nadia? He could not bear to contemplate her circumstance. After employing relaxation rituals in order to rest had failed, he decided to dress and plan their next move, which was turning out to be his next conundrum. His mind, usually so logical on multiple levels could not seem to discern which boot accommodated what foot let alone anticipate the motivations or probable strategy of an ‘Uncle’ turned mad-man. The only path his mind wanted to follow involved the well-being of his mate. He had never been a male plagued with introspection, he left that road to his siblings, his was a world of reflexes and problem solving, not philosophy and sentiment. Presented with a circumstance, he would turn it this way and that, learning its facets and studying hidden crevices for traps—then determine the best, most expedient path toward victory. He did so with confidence, never faltering or second-guessing his decisions, the Nefari gift of enhanced senses made it akin to child’s play; but his internal compass had veered off course, suddenly pulling toward feeling instead of fact. When dealing with passion over logic he felt like the proverbial bull in a china shop—clumsy, inept, untried. And since Nadia had entered his life he felt like he was wading through an emotional swamp. The fortress of logic and reflexes that surrounded him crashed around his ears by one tiny trickle of light that was Nadia, and when that damn of lightening burst through, his feelings of love for her overwhelmed him with paralyzing clarity. Now she was his fortress and if he didn’t find a way to get her back safely his world would not be worth a pebble of logic or a dusting of agility. He’d be the first to admit that he was intractable, overconfident in his intelligence and physical capabilities, but that was before Nadia had exploded into his universe with one kiss…no it wasn’t just a kiss, that was the problem. It was the feel of her in his arms, 168

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her scent, her fathomless eyes and the rightness of her body pressed to his. It was as if he recognized her on some visceral level never before opened to him. Someone pounded on his outer panel. “Come,” he ordered. “It is time to move, Nefari,” Zorroc stated, leaning against the entranceway. Sherem grunted his agreement and brushed past him. “I contemplated contacting my parents but I am afraid that as we are capable of monitoring Stealth’s communications, so are they able to intercept ours.” Zorroc shook his head. “Not on the Miramid, we came up with a system that has been proven secure, so we can contact them, the only drawback is that they cannot respond unless they have the same fail-safe software, and no one has it but us.” “Damn, I hate that ego-soaked superiority you Gattonians wallow in. How do you stand yourselves?” “It has to do with our captivating charm, I believe,” Zorroc responded with a smirk. Sherem barked out a laugh, in the three cycles since the Dargon attack, he had come to almost tolerate the Gattonian leader.

*** Nadia woke with a start. She had fallen asleep with Sonny tucked snuggly within her arms. Now she was alone but for the malevolent presence at the entrance to her cell. “Ah, you are awake, my amber jewel. I have wonderful news to impart. I am sure you will be delighted to hear that your barbarian has gone to the next realm along with his brother and the rest of the crew of the Portender. Such an unfortunate accident. It seems that when we separated, the Portender miscalculated and blew themselves up. It was a great pity but the fireworks were invigorating. I wish you had been awake to witness it.” At Nadia’s horrified gasp, he continued. “Now, now, don’t thank me, I really had very little to do with it. Tut, tut, such incompetence should not be borne in space, it was only a matter of time until tragedy struck, I am only relieved that you were not aboard. Devine providence, that’s what it was—that you chose me over that moronic barbarian. Can I get you anything, my dear? They tell me you are not eating properly. Maybe some company would spark your appetite, cook could prepare a celebration dinner…” “You are a pathetic result of jealousy and too many drugs not to mention a crew of arse kissers that you believe, even for a moment, could best my mate,” Nadia informed 169

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him coldly. “Sherem is the greatest warrior of our time and no strutting, megalomaniac, over inflated, peacock could ever defeat him, and nothing you say—NOTHING will convince me otherwise. Now get out before I take the pleasure of killing you away from my mate.” Nadia’s voice dropped with horse menacing intent before she rushed him and Kindarak jerked back instinctively. A move that seemed to infuriate even while it cowed him. A glint of pure menace shimmered deeply in his eyes before he drew himself up rigidly and continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “No?” Kindarak inquired lightly while easing toward the exit, “then I will leave you once more but with some well intended advise. You will come to me, Amber. In the end you will beg me to take you, that I promise. Oh, by the way, that is your new name—Amber is so much more descriptive, don’t you agree? Soon, Amber, soon, but business before pleasure, I’m afraid.” He turned and darted through the panel then paused. “Oh, I am sorry for the accommodations but we are on our way to pick up a guest, my only remaining nephew and the son of my heart. We can’t have you distracting me from my purpose so until all is concluded, you will remain here. Do try the food though, darling, we cannot have you wilting away before our pleasure is slacked, now can we?” Nadia waited until his footsteps could no longer be heard before she lurched for the refuse pot at the corner and dry heaved into it. She was sick with rage. Where had she found the courage to speak so to the male that held her life in his hands? She messaged her brother and this time put a no-nonsense, don’t mess with me push behind it. She could fairly feel Zorroc jump in response. “Good evening, Nadia, something on your mind?” Zorroc inquired humorously. “What kind of a brother are you? I have been frantic with worry and you had better have an excellent reason for ignoring me and leaving me to rot with this yaking loon…and YELP—“ The sound echoed both through her mind and through the room she occupied. Nadia vaguely registered her brother’s concerned summons but she was frozen into place by an apparition oozing out of the wall to appear directly in front of her. It appeared to be content to simply float there in front of her sporting a smirk that should have been terrifying but looked a trifle silly.

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“Are you a g-g-ghost?” Nadia whispered. Geez, she thought, he even laughed like a ghost…or what she perceived a laughing ghost would laugh like. Nadia slowly pulled her feet off the floor and tucked them underneath her atop her mat. The ghost seemed to lose some of his joviality as he studied her briefly. “I am not a ghost but from Kerr. I am sure you have heard we are able to travel outside of our bodies but we cannot retain our shape indefinitely, so I would ask that you listen. Kindarak has destroyed the Portender and all their crew. I’m afraid Sherem is gone. I am deeply sorry and most distressed but now I believe Kindarak will attack the Miramid and attempt to take over the rule of Gattonia. Kindarak, though always a power grabbing crook, seems to be losing touch with reality and in my estimation, on his way to complete insanity making him even more dangerous than before. “Can you warn your brother through telepathy? If I send a transmission it will cost me my life if discovered.” “Where is your body?” He smiled sadly. “I am being held here and blackmailed into doing his bidding until I can extricate myself,” he replied. His image began to fade with each second he remained and now was very faint. I will come to you in the morning with amenities to make you more comfortable. Until then…” Nadia had a million questions including whether he would help her escape but all she did was nod her understanding and whisper, “I will try to reach my brother. Thank you for the warning.” Her last comment she spoke to the wall. After the immediate shock of seeing the apparition, she recognized Ryder, the prince of Kerr. He said he was being held against his will. He was famous for getting himself into scrape after reckless scrape involving females, drink, and gambling. But if what he said was true, his current situation proved more deadly than the others. It could, however, be a trap to measure her powers. Kindarak may have ordered Ryder to contact her. Could she trust him? Would he help her escape? “What was that?” a small voice asked from the direction of the vent. Nadia sighed, she thought it more than a titch ironic that her cell had become as busy with arrivals and departures as any public trans-port and the only one stuck was the one who most wanted to leave—but then again they were all prisoners of the mad peacock.

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“He looked a lot like a male I’ve seen around, a prince or something,” Sonny continued, slowly creeping into her room and inspecting the spot where the image had floated. Nadia didn’t know how much she should confide in the child. Not because she did not trust him but it seemed a little unfeeling. He already carried the burden of too many secrets on his bird thin shoulders and what if by some chance her cell was being bugged. The thought caused a chill to skirt up her spine and along her shoulders. She held out her arms and said, “Come here and climb on my lap and I’ll whisper it to you.” Sonny was becoming more affectionate but slowly and with guarded trepidation. How long since he had been held and coddled?

*** Sherem railed non-stop at the Gattonian Prince since losing the telepathic link with his sister thirty minutes before. “Try again,” Sherem barked for the hundredth time. “If you’d agreed to stay in constant touch with her these last days we’d have a much better idea of her situation and safety. What if he’s drugged her again, what if they’re dosing her with Angels Gate, what if…” He moaned, sank to a chair, and crushed his hair in fisted anguish. What if they’d given her a date-rape drug and were tearing her apart in both spirit and body. Until their current situation, that was the most horrifying sight of his life. He still had nightmares and day-visions about it and in the last days since Nadia had been taken, they were with him constantly. He moved to block his eyes and rising tears with the heals of his hands and strove to keep his shoulders from quaking. The waiting had finally broken him. “I swear our bond that your mate is well and not being mistreated in any way…and if I may add, holding up much better than you, my friend.” Sherem’s head shot up. “You didn’t tell me you were mind-speaking with her,” he accused, not quite trusting Bran’s revelation. “And I am not, but I have been monitoring her moods and conversations. She has the heart of a true warrior, Sherem, you can be proud of her. And she does have her allies who do what they can to make her comfortable, so calm yourself, the time for panic is not yet at hand.” “I never panic,” he grumbled. “Thank you for telling me but why not inform me before this. Why wait until I make a complete and total ass of myself?” 172

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The ankou shrugged. “It has been a mere twenty-four hours, therefore did not occur to me. And it has been a great pleasure to see you in such a state. If she were in danger I would have stepped in.” “Stepped in?” “It is not possible to trans onto the Stealth? Even so, the timing would not be optimum and so I deprive myself of a most satisfying banquet.” Bran sighed dramatically making his friend smile for the first time since Nadia’s abduction. “It is always best to play your hand and not someone else’s.” “Where are you learning the philosophy of battle strategy?” Bran smiled so wide his tongue fell out the side of his mouth but didn’t reply. Sherem just shook his head and then froze Bran with a look of determination. “Contact her now. Ask if she is well. Tell her everything, every last detail of our situation and beg any information she may have in order to trans her out of there.” “Beg? Ankous never beg. I shall, however, inquire if you beg me to do so.” He looked inordinately pleased with himself. “She is in a dead cell, what can she know of her position?” Zorroc asked finally understanding the telepathic link the two shared. Sherem turned to Zorroc and answered with clenched teeth. “She has comrades inside; they may provide her with them. I want my mate back—Now! If she can learn where she is being held we can trans in and rescue her before Kindarak knows we have been there, if nothing else Bran knows her scent and can lead us to her. Make no mistake, my first priority before any other business is Nadia and I will accomplish it with or without your co-operation.” Zorroc’s mouth worked, not trying too hard to hide a smirk as he returned Sherem’s steely gaze and nodded. Kindarak’s motives remained a mystery that had to be solved but Nadia must come first. “How do you propose we accomplish this feat, barbarian?” “I believe it is time you make contact with the Stealth, don’t you?” Sherem smiled in anticipation. “Let’s see how my dear uncle explains the disappearance of the Portender.” Cat held up a hand. “And what reason do you give for wanting to contact her? It seems to me that the less Kindarak thinks we know, the safer for us all, especially Nadia. If we go in there asking a bunch of questions, won’t that make him suspicious?” She 173

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turned to Sherem. “How much does he know, or could have been told by the spy on your ship?” “I can’t be sure, we’ll just have to feel our way and let Kindarak do the probing.” Zorroc smiled his agreement. “We’ll COM a general inquiry as to the whereabouts of your ship and see who answers, shall we?” “But first, one of you must mind-speak with Nadia, perhaps she has news that will erase some of our concerns,” Sherem ordered quietly. Bran and Zorroc looked at each other until Bran shrugged and admitted, “She will be more relieved to hear from me, I believe, as proof that we indeed survived.” “Bran will speak with her, meanwhile you can send out the inquiry.” “There is a small common area down the hall and to the left. You will find comfort and privacy. Cat and I will be up on seven taking care of the missive. Come to the bridge if Nadia imparts information of import.” Sherem nodded following Bran out of the room. “Nadia,” Bran queried. “Bran, you are safe—and Sherem—and Dakar and Tula—and the crew—and the Portender?” Nadia shouted into his mind making him see stars. “Control yourself, tone down; your psi is giving me a migraine.” “My apologies; your presence in my mind is very relieving.” “What disturbance severed your connection to your brother? He is concerned as we all are. Are you well and unharmed?” “Oh, that. It seems I acquired another ally. The Prince of Kerr is onboard; apparently another “guest” of Kindarak’s. He made himself known in a very peculiar fashion but says he wants to help. He told me the Portender is destroyed and that Kindarak has similar plans for the Miramid. Kindarak believes the same, for he visited to gleefully lament over the unfortunate “accident”. I believe him insane, Bran. A hypothesis shared by more than a few but thus far he has not harmed me. I am well.” “I am relieved that he bought our supposed destruction, it makes our plan even more plausible.” “When will you come for me? I am by no means safe; Kindarak intends to keep me as a sex slave, second wife, or mistress. I do not care to fill any of those roles.” Bran growled and Nadia felt a wisp of frustration from another source. “Bran, is Sherem there with you?” 174

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“Yes, why do you ask?” “I don’t know. I felt him in my mind. At least I think it was him; are you communicating with him while you speak with me,” Nadia asked, excitement pounding through her veins at the prospect. What if they could communicate through Bran. “I understand your desire. Give us a moment to experiment,” Bran entreated. “Misulu, I…You complete me. Keep yourself safe. Swear to me,” the far away voice ordered. Nadia smiled. It was Sherem and usual he was spitting orders for her to obey. She was so happy and relieved to hear him that tears flooded her eyes leaking down her cheeks. Sonny, who had fallen asleep in her arms, came awake in distress for her. She murmured that they were happy tears and to rest a bit more. “I will try, my mate. And I love you too. Thank you, Bran, I am forever in your debt no matter how things turn out.” “All will be well,” Bran answered. “Link ended.”

*** Kindarak was overjoyed to receive the inquiry. “Miramid, this is the Stealth. My COM officer just received your transmission and brought me the missive. I am most regretful to be the bearer of sad tidings but I am afraid the Portender met with a hostile ship and was apparently ambushed. “I have sent numerous PODs out to search for survivors but it appears the hit was clean. The Stealth arrived on the scene too late to save my nephews but we did destroy their enemy,” Kindarak added sadly. “Who were they?” Zorroc asked curiously. “I am not sure, the emblem was Kerrdic, but most likely the ship was stolen, after all, the Provinces of Kerr and Nefar are allies, at least last I heard. Do you know if that may have changed Lord Zorroc?” “I have been away for some time but believe they remain at peace,” Zorroc answered noncommittally. “Well then, there you have it. It must have been the work of space pirates; something really must be done, the skies are becoming unsafe for even the most formidable warrior vessels, let alone non-combatants like ourselves.” “Would you have any news, by chance? We received a message from the Portender to COM them when we achieved galaxy jump, but were not told the nature of 175

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the request. I got the impression that my sister had a hand in it somehow.” Zorroc drew in an audible breath. Catarina rolled her eyes at his melodramatics. “You don’t suppose she could have been aboard…” “I pray that it is not the case. Can you not reach her through telepathy? I understand it is a Gattonian trait.” “Yes, but like all peoples, some gifts are stronger than others. My sister, unfortunately did not inherit the talent, but she is beautiful and intelligent enough for it not to be of consequence…up until now, that is.” “Yesss, truly unfortunate. What are your co-ordinates? Perhaps it would be safer to travel together for a time. I presume you are returning to Ganz with all speed?” “Possibly, where is the Stealth bound for?” Zorroc replied, ignoring the request for their position. “We proceed to the knowledge planet to pick up my only remaining nephew, and then to Nefar. The King and Queen will need their only living son to console them in their time of grief.” “I was not aware that Dakar traveled on the Portender, are you certain he was aboard?” Zorroc asked, innocently. Kindarak stuttered into silence, obviously contemplating a reply. Finally he murmured, “I just assumed, I guess I heard it from somewhere. Perhaps I am mistaken.” “My mate is trying to get my attention, please allow a moment for us to confer.” Zorroc pressed the privacy switch and turned to Sherem. “Will you stop bothering me? I am trying to concentrate. You are worse than a mother hen. Drake, do we have a lock on their co-ordinates yet?” “Yes,” he replied over Sherem’s persistent demands, “and they are doing their best to divine ours, but I have routed us into cyber space.” He grinned. “Wh—“ Zorroc began. “We cannot allow him to lure my brother onto his ship, he already believes he has killed Dakar and me; what if my brother is next. We have to warn him, we must beat the Stealth. No, I will just trans onto his ship and kill him now.” “Stop,” Zorroc ordered before Sherem could leave the bridge. “We will take care of Kindarak long before he can get your brother. Let me think.”

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A smile lit Zorroc’s eyes. “We need to register our sons for education on the knowledge planet. You know what a waiting line there is for the classes, especially the ones we have in mind…” Catarina paused, her mouth quirking into a half smile. Zorroc’s gaze met hers and he chuckled despite their situation. “Kindarak, please forgive the interruption. My mate insists we proceed to the knowledge planet with all speed and pick up Rand ourselves.” “No—“ Kindarak began only to be cut off by Zorroc’s monologue. “Catarina and I became very close to Mia and Royce with the Dargon invasion and have stayed in touch since. As a matter of fact Rand has taken a particular liking to the triplets and they adore him,” Zorroc continued to lie blithely. He was on a roll. “Yes, the more I think of it, the more I am convinced that the boys would cheer and comfort Rand as nothing else could.” “But—“ “No, no, don’t thank us; Cat will mother him to death before he reaches Nefar and the kids are already hopping for joy at the thought of seeing their Uncle Rand. So if there is nothing else…” “There is,” Kindarak shouted, frustration evident in the staccato reply. “What about Nadia, aren’t you worried about her whereabouts? Your first duty must be to her. I’m very concerned she was on the Portender, she might be floating in a survival POD this very moment. You must stay and search while I go for my nephew.” “I’m sure my sister is fine, I would feel it in my heart if she were not.” Zorroc paused and turned to his navigation expert whose shoulders were heaving in hopeless mirth while he nodded his affirmation. “Well, have to run, see you around the galaxy, Kindarak. Miramid out.”

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Chapter Twenty-One

“I will cinder them all and stomp on their ashes. They are already dead, do you hear me? Where are they, Smead? They blabbered long enough for a first cycle cadet to pinpoint their location. Well?” Kindarak turned and bored a seething glare on his first in command. He was still pressing typing furiously on the console, checking read-outs then beginning the process again. “They were changing their position every few seconds, Your Eminence, I am still tracking.” “They were employing diversionary tactics? Why? What possible reason could they have unless,” Kindarak paused and considered alternative scenarios. They somehow suspected his hand in the destruction of the Portender. They didn’t buy his story of how he came to the Portender’s defense. Nadia is a stronger telepath than Zorroc suggested and the entire conversation was a ruse to determine his location and rescue his sister. Fissions of fear skittered up his spine, dotting his forehead and increasing his respiration. He must calm himself and regain his control. Did his crew watch him nervously contemplating his sanity? He was invincible, a God. He feared no male but all that crossed his path shuddered in their boots. He sat on his throne unwilling to admit, even to himself, that his knees were shaking. What if Sherem had survived? His body erupted in one violent quake. He couldn’t be alive. He watched the Portender detonate, saw the debris. He grabbed the hair on either side of his forehead and pulled. But wait. What if he was being paranoid? The drugs might be altering his perceptions. Maybe Smead miscalculated and couldn’t pinpoint them because of his incompetence…Yes, that could be it. Or maybe it was standard procedure and wired into their guidance system to cloak their whereabouts—even more plausible and a tactic he should have implemented long ago. Even so… 178

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“Smead, maximum warp to Knowledge Planet,” he ordered shakily, then shouted, “now!“ “Did you get everything?” Zorroc asked his navigation officer, Zanan. “We have him pinpointed and locked, the only way he can evade us is if he galaxy jumps,” Drake, the Portender’s new navigation officer interjected. Sherem had brought him over to assist and further his knowledge by working with the navigation experts on the Miramid. “I also took the opportunity to scan their ship and I recall the exact model from the academy.” Red crept up his throat and cheeks. He hated admitting his lack of field experience but he had a photographic memory and never forgot a ships layout. He cleared his throat and continued. “It might be a challenge locating the deadcell they have Princess Nadia in though, they have sets of five on three decks. That is so prisoners can’t band together and mutiny,” he informed the group, helpfully and then blushed again at his enthusiasm. Zorroc nodded sagely, hiding a grin, looked at Sherem who was also fighting to maintain his composure and asked, “Anything else, Officer Drake?” “The bridge is located on deck three,” he stated. Sherem started. Most bridges were located on an upper deck for the purposes of visibility and he recalled that when Kindarak had shown them his ship, he made a point of showcasing his state-of-the-art bridge on the top level – level six. “I was on that ship, Drake, and the bridge was on level six.” “Bogus, sir.” “Excuse me?” Sherem said. “Bogus,” Cat repeated happily. “Fake, counterfeit, spurious, artificial—“ “I think he understands, Cat, thank you,” Zorroc politely tendered. Sherem blinked and then shook his head. “Anything further,” he asked with trepidation. “Only one other thing at the moment, sir.” He cleared his throat. “I think I might be able to trans someone onto that ship.” The occupants of the room froze. “Explain,” Sherem barked. “I have a photographic memory, sir, and was particularly impressed with the this version of starship. I think I could tell a trans-tech where to phase someone in, then he could direct others.” 179

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“Officer Drake, I can appreciate your talents, but if you miscalculate, you could trans someone into a steel wall,” Zorroc stated, not unkindly. “Well, a large chamber would increase our odds,” the Officer admitted. “That well may have a lot of furniture in it. We would have the same problem.” Everyone in the room knew the physics of two objects of matter not residing in the same space simultaneously. “Wait a minute,” Sherem exclaimed. “I remember some of those rooms and a couple of the grand halls were extremely sparsely furnished. If I could describe them in detail, could you take it from there?” Drake smiled confidently. “Right on, sir.” “Uh…” “Absolutely, positively, unequivocally—” “They mean yes, Sherem,” Zorroc translated wryly. An alarm on the console sounded. “She’s moving, sir, and fast. Full out interstellar warp,” Zanan, warned, speaking for the first time. Sherem punched a key on the panel. “Dakar, make ready to depart.” It had been a wise decision to give his brother the command of the Portender and hoped it would set one more link toward mending their former rift. “Follow Stealth but be sure to avoid detection,” Zorroc ordered Zanan quietly. “Took him long enough to figure out we were on to him,” Sherem added. “Let’s not make the mistake of underestimating him again. If he is everything you think he is, he didn’t get there by playing fair. This could well be a ruse to flush us out,” Zorroc stated. “Then let’s not get caught, Mr.-my-ship-is-better-than-your-ship,” Sherem replied. Cat rolled her eyes but covertly studied Sherem’s navigation officer. How had he come across earth slang? She subtly sidled toward him, moving slowly until she was standing beside the young, virile Nefari. “Be very careful, my one,” her lifemate warned. Cat looked sideways to glimpse jealousy filling his amber eyes. “Sheesh, I just want to ask him a question. Get that look off your face or he’ll run screaming from the room…we’re going to need his expertise soon,” she mind-spoke the 180

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last part as an extra incentive. He leaned against the closest wall, crossed his arms across his chest, and did the leopard studying his prey thing. “Cat men,” Cat telepathed. “Earth females,” he thought back. Cat licked her lips and took one last look at her mate’s now dilated heavy-lidded eyes before speaking. “Uh, hi Drake. I couldn’t help notice your use of earth slang, unless ‘bogus’ is a Nefari word.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Actually I am mated to an Earth female. I think you may know her, she certainly remembers you, though I believe half the stories she tells are fabricated to entertain me.” I wouldn’t count on it, Cat thought. “What is her name?” His eyes twinkled with humor and unmistakable arousal and Cat moved to block his view from Zorroc. “She is called Ava and on the original female transport.” “I remember her well and wondered what became of her.” Cat did remember her; she was a delightful charmer who enjoyed sampling the variety of available Gattonian crew. Cat was surprised she decided to settle down. As if he read her mind he supplied. “She told me Gattonian males were too civilized; she preferred the earthiness of the Nefari.” And then added fiercely, “She does not stray.” “I would not believe otherwise. Please ask her to COM, I would very much like to stay in touch.” “As you wish but I would advise, if you do not want to see Ava a widow anytime soon, you return to your mate.” Though he smiled warmly, the warning was clear. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she mind-spoke as she turned toward Zorroc. When he growled audibly she realized her poor choice of words and grinned impishly. He pressed her into an observation seat and belted her in. “Remain seated and belted until I give you my permission.” “The children—” Cat began. “Are fine, I messaged Camille to secure them and you know accelerating to warp speed is their favorite activity.” Cat did know, sometimes Zorroc gave the order for warp acceleration solely to amuse the triplets. She studied Zorroc as he belted himself into the commander’s chair, offering Sherem the one beside him. Her gaze traced his broad shoulders and long silken mane as she contemplated his foray into fatherhood. He had taken to it naturally and with undeniable zest, like a cat to fresh cream. 181

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“Only yours, my cream,” he mind-spoke using his pet name for her. “In coming from the Stealth, sir…er sirs, or at least from within her. It is on a little used band.” “Put it on vidscreen,” Zorroc ordered motioning Sherem to the side to avoid detection. “I can’t, sir; it’s strictly audio and the band is all but obsolete. I am making some adjustments. Here it is.” “Zorroc of the House of Ra, Leader of Gattonia, this is Prince Ryder of Kerr. I bring you greetings.” “What are you doing on the Stealth? And speak up I can hardly hear you which begs the question of the antiquated voice band.” “I have but seconds before detection. I wish to ensure the safe return of your sister. I have obtained a key to her cell and coordinates to allow a successful trans for you and your warriors. In return I wish safe harbor for me and my crew back to Ganz. Once safely on board I will answer all of your questions concerning my presence on the Stealth and any others to care to ask.” “Why would you do this, friend of Kindarak?” “I repay a dept to Sherem though he has passed to the next realm. And I wish safety for his mate so that in future she may look upon me favorably.” Zorroc hushed Sherem’s growl with a slash of his arm. “When do we board?” “0600 hours. I have arranged to visit her with the ruse of bringing supplies for her comfort. I must go; coordinates to follow.” After a series of numbers, the connection went dead. “What do you make of that?” Zorroc asked Sherem. “I helped him two cycles past; a small matter of gambling in the wrong circles. Ryder is young and rash and cannot seem to keep himself free from trouble. Somehow it does not surprise me to find him on Kindarak’s ship. He attracts folly like a girl collects flowers.” “Then you think we can trust him?” Sherem went still in contemplation then slowly nodded his head. “If he is in trouble, and I am sure he is, then we must step in regardless of his assistance to my mate. He is reckless to a fault but not dishonorable.”

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“What in blazers is happening?” Nadia shot into Zorroc’s mind. “Are you well? Sherem is about to have a coronary. When you first broke contact with me, it rattled fifty cycles off his obnoxious existence. He is now entirely grey and walks stooped over; a very sad circumstance.” “Why do I doubt you, Rocky, he seemed fine when we spoke earlier through Bran. I am merely his latest possession,” Nadia messaged somewhat wearily. “What are you doing to free me from this psychotic loon?” “You were able to speak though the beast?” Zorroc asked incredulously. “I have never heard of such.” “Learn something new every dayrise. Now what is happening?” “The Stealth is heading toward the Knowledge Planet to pick up Rand. We are unsure of his intentions, whether he plans to kill him or ransom him back to his parents since Kindarak believes he is the sole remaining heir to the throne of Nefar. Moreover, if he is behind the production and distribution of Angels Gate, Nefar’s control of Assyllis distribution may play an intrinsic part.” “He desires not to kill his son, Zorroc, merely control him,” Nadia informed her brother earnestly. “What are you saying, Nadia? I must have misunderstood.” “I’m afraid you heard correctly. Sonny told me that Rand is Kindarak’s natural son and plans to use him to take over Nefar. Apparently the Queen and Kindarak had an affair resulting in Rand.” “Are you sure Sonny has his facts in order? He is a child, Nadia, little more than a babe from what you have disclosed.” “He is a very canny spy who has alluded Kindarak and others sent to catch him for a cycle or more. I do not believe he got it wrong and if you stop to think, it explains a great deal.” “Hells kitchen, Dizzy, what do I tell your mate? That his mother is an adulterer and that it is most likely his father and not Rand who is marked for death if not his mother as well? He will kill me before I take my next breath.” “That is your challenge,” Nadia declared lightly. “I am just the messenger. Why did he launch into warp if he spoke to you of his plans? It seems rather silly, to say nothing of knocking me across my cell.” 183

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“I believe he may want to beat us there or possibly he doubts the Portender’s destruction. But whatever he suspects, it does not bode well for you.” Zorroc didn’t add that Nadia could be in immediate danger as he had her ensconced on his ship and could take his frustrations out on her at any time. “Nadia, listen baby, we’re going to trans over early tomorrow morning and get you out of there. Rescuing you is our first priority before any other actions are implemented.” “I have done some thinking, Rocky and know it would be too risky. You don’t have the co-ordinates to accomplish it safely.” Nadia sounded resigned. “The only option you have is to take on the Stealth and hope I survive the attack.” “Wrong, little warrior, I come for you myself in a matter of hours. Can you ensure that the child will be with you?” Bran’s voice overpowered her brother’s. “No, but we have a system where I can reach him; a coded tap on the oxygen vent. It is comforting to know you have everything in hand.” A whisper of humor and hope entering her response. Nadia walked over to the grate and pretended to kick at the grate in case she was being observed though the imposed darkness hid most of her movements. “I will let you know when he appears,” she mind-spoke to Bran. “I will know. Soon Princess, soon we will be there to protect you.” “Nadia, can you hear me?” Zorroc’s tone was one of near panic. “I’m here, Rocky. Bran had a message for me. You are coordinating with our northern barbarians, yes? Zorroc noticed her restored spirits instantly and hoped the hairy beast had a better plan than they did. “You never know when a northern barbarian might come in handy. And Prince Ryder is also in the mix. You will be on the Miramid for breakfast, Dizzy. And we do have the trans coordinates; apparently you have a friend in Prince Ryder. Keep safe and let me know if Kindarak bothers you in any way. We may be able to trans over sooner if necessary.” “Nadia.” A small voice whispered from the direction of the grate. “Sonny sweetheart, come here. I need to tell you a secret.” Sonny crept through the grate and settled on Nadia’s lap. “I am going to whisper, just in case someone is listening. She bowed over the child, taking in his little boy scent and trepidation. He was not accustomed to trusting adults and why should he? Nadia strived for the right words to reach him. “Sonny, in the morning good and safe people 184

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are coming to save us. There is even a big shaggy dog that cannot wait to lick your face among the party. It is very important that you spend the night on the other side of the grate. If you have anything you would like to take with you, you must gather it and keep them in easy reach. Do you understand?” Sonny squirmed on her lap, clearly distressed. Nadia waited patiently to hear his thoughts. “Maybe I shouldn’t go with you. These are your people, they might not want me.” “Oh Sonny, of course they will want you. But most important, I want you. You will live with me and Sherem in a great castle and have anything you want to eat. And you will be my own precious little boy. Would you like that? We won’t live on a ship but a wonderful land full of mountains and streams where you can play.” Sonny’s brow furrowed and he grew unusually still. “What if I’m not good?” “Sherem and I will love you whether you are good or not. Little boys are not supposed to be good all the time.” “Well, what if someone decides to buy me?” Nadia’s heart almost broke with his words. How could she reassure him? “You forget that your sire is the greatest warrior on the galaxy and if someone tried to take you from us, he will beat them to a pulp. You will be our greatest treasure, sweetheart. I promise.” “But what if he doesn’t like me?” he whispered. “Sonny, you are the smartest, bravest, most cunning boy I have ever met; he will adore you every bit as much as I do.” “Kindarak promised to take me to my daddy.” “Oh baby, if your daddy can be found you will have the choice of going with him or staying with us. I just want you to be happy. Cook will take great pleasure in fattening you up and there will be many children your own age to play with. “Sonny, please promise me you’ll come. I couldn’t bear to leave you behind. You saved me, Sonny, please allow me to save you.” Sonny looked hard into her eyes and Nadia held her breath waiting for his verdict. Finally he nodded his head decisively. “I will go. You might need me to save you again.” “You are so right,” Nadia earnestly replied. Out of the mouths of babes… 185

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In the next second Sonny was scrambling through the grate and before she could even form the question of why, her panel opened revealing her odious host. Nadia simply groaned. “Ah my dear, awake and alert I see. The need to keep you from harming yourself is past. As a matter of fact, chef has prepared a marvelous meal for this evening. We have much to celebrate, you and I.” “Maybe you but certainly not I.” “Come, come, no use pouting over spilt blood. You should be thanking me; I let your brother and his family live…for the moment. And depending on your good behavior that will continue.” “My brother can take care of himself or did you miss what he did to the Dargons? And excuse me for pointing out the obvious but little ‘ol you are but a fly speck on his horizon.” For a moment Nadia thought he would strike her but appeared to get a hold of himself and smiled instead—a creepy, lecherous, demented smile. “Ah, my beautiful one. Better beauty than brains,” he murmured as males began to appear carting table and chairs, tablecloth and candelabras, crystal goblets, plates, and finally tray after tray of food and drink. “I had hoped to dine in my chambers but I see you need a few more days here. By the way Prince Ryder will be paying a visit with a few comforts to make your stay in this hole a little more bearable. He seeks your hand, you know—wants to control all of that glorious Assyllis, but I have decided to keep you for myself, at least until you begin to bore me. “Now what is you pleasure, jive or choc-tea wine?” Nadia had two choices, she figured, play along and try to learn more of his plans or take the food, liquor, and candelabras and dump them on his head. As attractive as the later was, she chose the former. “Whatever you are having, thank you,” she answered politely, thinking the probability for drugging diminished. “This jive is excellent. I am sure you will find it to your liking.” He poured first hers and then his own and Nadia relaxed a bit. “Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why we are celebrating?” “I am sure you will enlighten me in your own time,” she demurred. “How right you are, my beautiful treasure. We proceed to the knowledge planet to collect my son. Base born, I’m afraid but I intend to remedy that by mating with his mother. It would be highly improper for a bastard to eventually rule Nefar.” 186

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Nadia held her breath. How much to reveal? “I believe Nefar has a king and queen,” she ventured quietly. “Oh, not for long. I am afraid the king will waste away with the deaths of his sons which will leave me free to marry the queen, Rand’s mother…and my son. And if you are very, very good, my pet, I will mate with you, as well. Nefari law allows this, you see. And as long as your brother does not interfere with his current Assyllis agreement, we will all be just one big happy family. What do you think? I shall be the King of Nefar until my son inherits the throne. It is brilliant, don’t you agree?” “I think you are certifiable and if you live long enough will end up in a shelter for the insane.” Kindarak’s eyes glinted, his features froze, and Nadia could see his jaw clench. She prayed she’d not gone too far in provoking him but her mouth ran away from her before she could think to leash it. “Of course my alternate plan is to keep you as my whore, massacre your family and rule Gattonia along with Nefar. I leave the choice to you.” He waited for her to comment and when she did not, smiled upon her and nodded his head. “Just so. You learn quickly, my Amber jewel. How is your Chanuk? It comes from my home planet of Myveria and is very rare.” She wondered at the pieces of meat smothered in sauce. Though a bit gamey, she found it editable and instead of answering, she asked a question of her own. “I assume you are behind the new drug called Angels Gate?” He exclaimed delightedly at her acumen. “Amber, you are full of surprises and absolutely correct. The actual process was discovered by the Horta but Nefar’s Procurement Minister knew Sherem would never allow its distribution and so he contacted me. All was running flawlessly until your meddlesome barbarian met with that soon to be eliminated, old as dirt queen, and compared notes. Everything will soon be put to rights, however—a rather lethal dose of the drug will find its way into the queen’s sweets soon. She really is too fat to be imbibing such rich delicacies. I fear it will finally be the death of her.” Nadia planned to contact Bran as soon as she had privacy and warn him of the danger to the Jasperi queen. Nadia had thoroughly enjoyed her time with the irascible character and intended to enjoy many more. “You really are a poster boy for death and destruction. Your mother must be so proud.” 187

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Kindarak’s smile fell off his face. “My mother, if you can call her that, betrayed me! Had me kicked out of my home and even off the planet and for what—a little harmless sport. I didn’t kill anyone worthwhile; just some homeless squatters and a few peasants. I even gave them a head start…” He mumbled the last and Nadia felt dirty being in the same room with him. So repelled she almost missed his next comment. “A royal house?” she exclaimed stupidly. “Yes, I was the third in line for the throne and they dared banish me. Well I will show them. After I achieve my goals for Nefar and Gattonia, I will annihilate Myveria— after I make them beg for mercy.” His eyes mirrored his soul at that moment; evil, madness and death swam in their depths. Nadia counted the moments until he took his leave.

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Nadia wished she could soak for a week to wash the stench of Kindarak’s madness off her. Holding Sonny too tight, she contacted Bran and let him scan her entire conversation with her host. She felt his own repugnant reaction to her thoughts but felt it necessary to make him understand all they were up against. Sherem rubbed his gritty eyes, pacing his chamber like a caged animal and checked the time once again. He had bee up most of the night on his PODs COM warning first Jasper’s queen Headi, then Rand, and finally his parents. Now he gathered his sword and an assortment of other weapons and headed to the Miramid. Finally, the time for action had arrived. In a matter of hours Nadia would be safe in his arms. He was unsure if he would ever be able to let her go again. He stalked to the Miramid, Bran at his side. I hope all goes as planned but the back of my neck is tingling; not a good sign. How about you?” “I am unsure. My powers seem to be evolving so clear judgment is difficult.” Before Sherem could inquire further, they had arrived, greeted by Zorroc and his team of five and the Portender’s group of six. Forty more stood if needed. “Thank you,” Sherem grunted when Zorroc handed him a long thick chain with a disc attached. When Sherem looked at him questioningly, Zorroc answered. “Put this on your shaggy friend. It is a tracking device and monitors vital signs; if he is wounded we can transport him immediately to our Med center.” When Bran gave him a condescending look Zorroc added. “It is only a precaution; all who trans over wear one. Anything could happen, we go against a vast well-trained army that I am sure will not relinquish my sister easily. Nadia informed me of Kindarak’s plans; I will not leave without her this morning. He is obviously delusional and must be neutralized.” “At last, we agree on something,” Sherem said. “Bran, all stealth, if you pardon the pun. You are to be our secret weapon, you mentioned expanded powers…” “Yes, I have been practicing mass altering or shape shifting, if you will.” 189

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“Well, I hope your growing powers of shape shifting are on a par with your body. I’ll bet you have grown a head taller and gained a hundred pounds. Exactly how big do you get?” “I suppose we’ll know the answer to that when I stop growing,” he answered logically. “We will retrieve them, not to worry. The little one awaits with your mate and must be taken, as well. I will do what is necessary, you, watch your back.” “That is what brothers are for,” Sherem answered and turned to his normally carefree brother who looked every bit the Nefari warrior. They arrived at the trans station and all was prepared except for the sheer mass of the ankou. It was decided after the calculations were adjusted that Bran would transport initially followed by the rest of the party. Bran fell into a black void then felt his body materialize. He opened his eyes to reveal the scrawniest, tiniest human he’d ever seen staring quizzically at him with no sign of fear or even caution. “You’re the biggest dog I ever saw, can I ride you?” Bran did not understand the question but a clear vision entered his mind as to the child’s inquiry. He shook his head and thought that when he had them safely away he’d let the human flee climb up and trot him down the hallways of the Miramid to the Portender. “How long do you think it will take until then?” he asked, and Bran realized something impossible to comprehend. “Can you hear my voice inside your head?” Bran asked. “Uh-huh. I know Nadi talks to her brother and you that way all the time. Are you here to rescue us?” Afraid the miniature being would be trampled when the rest of the party arrived; he grabbed him carefully with his mouth and hooked him onto his back. The team surrounded them, their gazes running from shock to amusement at the sight of Sonny ensconced on Bran’s neck. Sherem spotted a furtive Ryder moving toward them with two others carrying a load of furnishings which they dropped to approach the warriors now guarding the hallway. “Let’s get her and depart.” No sooner did he utter the words than armed soldiers poured into the corridor from the other cells including Nadia’s—with Nadia nowhere in sight. 190

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“What is this, Ryder, a trick?” Sherem demanded under his breath. “No, I swear it, we are surrounded. You do not know him, he will kill us all.” Zorroc chuckled. “Do not worry, they cannot win against us. Reinforcements will surround Kindarak’s troops. Be ready for anything.” “How will they avoid the laws of physics? If they try to trans here we all will die.” “We have the plans to this vessel; they will enter on level seven and make their way here. In addition, Ryder, have you never seen a Nefari warrior in action? If not you are in for a treat.” Zorroc could hear Ryder’s relief. Kindarak strutted through his crew until he caught sight of the Nefari forces. His smile faltered along with his confidence. They were dead, he had killed them. Were these warriors from the Miramid posing as the lethal warriors? He could see they were not; for their was no mistaking the team of Gattonians in the mix with Ryder’s forces. Unable to suppress a shudder he faced the biggest warrior coated in Kameri. Maybe if he destroyed him, the rest would flee. Even as the thought formed it knew it for a lie. Nefari warriors were purported to be indomitable which is why he had decided to destroy their ship when their defenses were down. He had wanted to avoid a face to face confrontation with these alien-like monsters. The leather covering their eyes and faces, he found particularly chilling. He had known what to expect, had studied the holos, but nothing could prepare one for an actual sighting. They were huge in height and bulk and all held the swords that made their reputation even more chilling. They all looked alike and worse—inhuman and invincible. Still, they were surrounded and he controlled that which they most wanted…plus a surprise that would keep them under his control. Yes, he would make them bow to him. The Supreme Leader. “You are dead,” he stated confidently, though a trickle of sweat separated from his hairline and ran down his temple to his jaw. “This is a trick—who are you and what do you want?” “Why uncle, I think the answer would be obvious. I want my mate; where is she?” “No, it can’t be—I killed you, I killed you all.” “Sorry to disappoint, Uncle, but you missed. May I inquire as to the location of my mate? As usual she is not where she belongs.” “Lay down your arms and surrender and I might oblige you,” Kindarak answered. “Find Nadia,” Sherem mind-spoke to Bran before answering his “Uncle”. 191

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“I take the child,” Bran replied, “and will check her former cell to make sure she was moved and not hidden somehow.” Sherem could find no trace of either, was he cloaking the urchin, as well? The hint of a grin touched his mind. “Sorry Kindarak, but your luck has run out along with your life and that of your crew. You now have two star ships surrounding the Stealth. The only hope that remains is for you to release Princess Nadia, and pray we allow you to go on your way.” “Are there surveillance monitors in this room?” Bran asked the child when he slid into Nadia’s cell. The little-bit sat up and said, “I fixed them to go static. Are you looking for Nadia? They took her away a little while ago but I know all their hiding places. Want me to take you to Nadi now?” “In a moment.” Bran paused, wondering how to explain his powers without frightening the child. He gently probed his mind, an intrusion he would ordinarily never contemplate but everything changed at his first sniff of the boy. “Did Nadia tell you that I’m a magic dog? And did you know that we are invisible right now?” Sonny shook his head and his eyes grew round. “Wizard watootie!” “Shh, speak softly now and when we leave not at all. Instead put pictures in your mind of where we might find Nadia. Can you do that?” Bran felt his uncertainty and let him think everything through. He was an amazingly intelligent being for one so young. “All right, but how can we get past all these soldiers? You’re too big to go through the tunnels, like me.” “Not to worry, we will rise above them and then fly—but you must remain absolutely still and silent. Nadi’s life depends on it. And we must save her.” “I understand. It is why I decided to go with her; so I could save her if she needed it. She seems to get into an awful lot of trouble,” Sonny whispered in all earnest. Bran mind-spoke an assent into Sonny’s mind, striving to curtail his own amusement. He and Sonny floated into a jetquik just as blazer beams fired behind them. The small transport held the strong scent of Nadia and propelled them to the third floor on Rees’s command. The plans of the Stealth as described by Drake had the working bridge on this level. Bran once again cloaked them; uncomfortable with the level of activity they were likely to encounter and possible warriors guarding Nadia. “Bran, what in the hell is going on?” Sherem blasted into his mind. Since the answer toppled Sherem’s current understanding, Bran decided to prevaricate. 192

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“Glad you are still in one piece, as well. We are on the third floor and I am following Nadia’s scent. She is not conscious and I fear there will be ample humans guarding her. When I am certain I will let you know. We may need back-up to get the child and your mate to safety.” “Why so much concern for a homeless urchin and why is Kindarak alluding to a secret that will have me relinquishing my arms and the arms of my warriors, and most probably my life? Could he already have Rand on board?” “Possible but doubtful. I believe the secret lies with the child; Sonny must be protected as vigilantly as Nadia, I fear.” “What are you talking about?” “We have arrived,” Bran stated, ignoring Sherem’s last question. The answers would be forthcoming when all were safe and the Stealth destroyed. “Her panel is being guarded by a force of ten and more close at hand.” “I will send a dozen...plus one to collect this “special child” and deliver it into the arms of Catarina. Will that suffice?” “Nicely, and the sooner the better. Nadia is awakening.” “Bran, what other things can you do?,” Sonny asked using mind-speak, impatient with the waiting. “All sorts of things. For instance, I know that they call you not just Sonny, but the Sun of Nefar. Is that not correct?” Sonny looked down and mumbled, “Sometimes, but mostly just Sonny, if they recall me at all. I stay hidden especially from the mean one.” Bran was positive they never forgot him and could locate him with little trouble if they so chose. They simply wanted him to believe he could hide. A bad feeling blossomed and spread through Bran which meant retrieving Nadia and getting the three of them to safety with all speed. Because he was certain that the acquired name given Sonny by Kindarak was actually a poorly crafted synonym for “Son of Nefar”. Further, he suspected Sherem’s natural child, perhaps the next ruler of Nefar—most likely carried a detection device somewhere under his skin. Twelve Nefari troops appeared around them and Bran materialized. One plucked Sonny gingerly from Bran’s back and disappeared just as quickly. A mental grunt butted Bran’s mind which signaled action underway below and in the next moment, he and the Nefari troops engaged in battle. 193

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After Bran ate his way through the first row of Stealth’s crew, the remaining fighting force noticeable dwindled; some taking down their own comrades in the effort to avoid him. At that moment the guards within Nadia’s chamber tumbled into the melee leaving him the opportunity to get in. Nadia, with eyes slitted, mind spoke, “Can’t move.” He had scant seconds to trans her to the Miramid but with her body frozen and lethargic, she could not climb on to him and he had no way to signal her exact location to get her out. More likely they would trans him leaving her behind. She could not even grasp the band around his neck which left him no choice but one. He concentrated all his powers, letting his mind float and body shift. While he had played with the urge for some time, he’d never successfully accomplished the change. Now he must, in order to carry Nadia and press the disc hanging from the chain around his neck to get them both to safety. It happened quickly with little discomfort just when two of the enemy charged in, blazers first. Bran grabbed Nadia, and activated the disc but Kindarak materialized at the last possible moment. “Leaving us so soon? I’m afraid I can’t allow it.” He pointed a large silver weapon and fired three times into the now visibly human Bran. They disappeared over roars of frustration from Nadia’s former host. “Nadia is safe aboard the Miramid. I regret I am unable to rejoin you.” Bran’s words almost made Sherem sag and lower his sword even as he worried over his last words, but a laser beam missing his temple by a fraction called back his attention. “No matter, I give the word to retreat. We will come in waves to both the ports of Miramid and Portender and take the Kerrs with us.” Screams ignited behind Sherem and the flow of battle changed to chaos. Sherem strived to keep his mind on the three well trained enemy warriors in front of him. Kindarak had melted into the background and probably hid in a safe room, shivering under a mat. The cruelest bullies also proved to be the biggest cowards. One of the divine oxymorons of the universe.

*** On the navigation level of the Miramid, a Kalmeri-skinned warrior shimmered into view holding a small boy and shoved him into Catarina’s arms without a by your leave before disappearing once again. Used to the offhand behavior of what she silently called her cat people, she caught the child in her arms and gently let him down, taking hold of his hand. “My name is Catarina, but my friends call me Cat,” she explained 194

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walking hand in hand with the dirty, emaciated boy. “I hope we’ll become great friends because anyone who helps my sister has my eternal gratitude. Come sweetie, let’s get you fed, uh…bathed, and into a nice soft mat.” Cat drew him away reluctantly, neither of the pair particularly wanting to desert the bridge. Nadia could feel the tiny boy’s hand shake as she pressed him into a jetquik to the children’s chambers. And even as he sullenly whispered his name, she couldn’t help but notice his undue attention to every grate they passed comprising Miramids’ ventilation system. He simply broke her heart. “The boys are down for a nap, so I’ll introduce you later. Be grateful for the calm before the calamity that is sure to erupt as soon as they awaken. They will be very exited to meet you; it gets lonely being the only children on board.” “Ch-children?” Sonny asked; a startled expression half curiosity and half terror chasing across his small face. “Uh-huh, have you ever had children your same age to play with? Of course, you’re probably two or three years older than they are. I bet they’re gonna worship the ground you walk on.” “Why would they like me? I don’t think I know how to play…and what are years?” “Oh, sorry.” Cat smacked her forehead. “I still tend to lapse into Earth-speak. Years are closely equivalent to cycles. How many cycles are you?” “You come from the Milky Way?” Sonny asked. And Cat realized he deflected almost every question she asked. He was one cagey little scrapper—probably for good reason. Instead of calling him on it, she played along. “Yep, and did you know that we even have a candy bar named after it.?” “Candy?” In two shakes flat she was going to bawl like a baby. He had never heard of candy? Oh, the calories she intended to introduce him to, she concluded, reaching the nursery. One hour later a stuffed, scrubbed, and sleeping little boy lay nestled in his own cozy mat. Cat was very pleased, believing she’d packed at least two pounds on his small frame. Once she had him bathed he had the distinct look of a Nefar about him; as a matter of fact he looked a lot like Sherem… 195

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Toppling over that thought she realized she’d not heard from Zorroc and the rest of their party and broke into a run. “Stop,” her mate shouted. “We are safe. Nadia is asking after the little mite. He is well?” “He is sleeping and stuffed. How is Nadia?” “She is with the shaggy beast but The Nefari and I have words to cross.” Whoa, Sherem hadn’t been “the Nefari” for quite some time.

*** The Med center turned into a sudden mass of running feet, staccato orders, and multiple hands as a couple of Med-techs took a partially naked Nadia from a totally naked Bran in half human, half ankou form and strived to hoist him onto a wide gurney. Four MTEs studied him in consternation. They seemed frozen between how to treat his wounds and whether they dared touch him at all. Nadia donned a robe and wobbled over to her friend seeking to communicate with him. “Bran, how badly are you hurt?” she croaked. “Get them out, they burn. I believe they are eating me from the inside out,” came his tortured reply. Nadia turned to the frozen staff and said, “He has three missiles in him, they must be removed immediately.” “We are not equipped with the anatomical knowledge to operate and he will not fit into the Med tech unit, what do you suggest we do?” one of the Technicians asked. “Yes,” another agreed, “And be reasonable, Princess, he is a wounded animal, he may attack if we try to assist him.” “He will not attack, you baboons; he is my friend and rescued both me and Sonny with no thought to himself. You will operate now!” The group just looked down and shook their heads sadly. At that moment, she was ashamed to be Gattonian. She went to the wall, grabbed a blazer, and pointed it at the group. “You will save him or die; and as your Princess I have the right to take your life for refusing a direct order. Now move it.” Nadia knew she would never harm them but they, fortunately, did not. They brought a unit over that descended from the ceiling and ran it over his body.

***

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Cat knew that Zorroc had taken Sherem to their private chambers for a chat but somehow, with all the turmoil, uncertainty, and confrontation with Kindarak, she didn’t think it was the appropriate time for a few drinks and exchange of pleasantries. The panel to their master suite slid silently open just as both males stood, Zorroc with his hands out in a placating manner and Sherem charging him shouting, “You lying bastard” and planting an upper cut to her mate’s jaw that sent him crashing into the wall four feet from where he stood. Cat didn’t think, she just stormed the giant, screaming for him to stop and flew into the air landing on his shoulders, pounding on his head. Sherem started spinning around grunting, “Get her off me”. Cat caught a glimpse of her mate climbing to his feet, testing his jaw, with an amused almost jovial expression carved on his features. “She’s killing me, Zorroc, make her stop,” Sherem pleaded. “Will you settle down and let me explain?” Zorroc queried, grinning widely, sitting back down and leaning back in his seat. “Anything,” he replied, covering his face to block her tiny fists popping him. “I think he’s had enough, my one, he surrenders.”

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Cat stopped and looked up. “What is so funny, he punched you—hard.” “He thought I was insulting his mother; I would have reacted the same were I in his shoes. Now let the defeated warrior loose.” Cat looked down. The Nefari had to top her mate by four inches, which meant she was about seven feet off the ground. She couldn’t even imagine how she’d made such a miraculous jump and she didn’t particularly like heights. They made her dizzy. Zorroc appeared by her side and she slid into his arms, her favorite place to be in the universe. “What’s going on?” she asked, the last word ending in a squeak as he slowly slid her body down his until she reached the ground. Sherem looked on, a bemused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Sherem watched the couple and marveled at their openly loving devotion to one another. He realized that that was exactly what he wanted—needed from Nadia. He had always believed Cat a rather poor influence on his mate but seeing her with Zorroc, willing to defend him against someone two thirds larger than herself, well, it made him want to smile, even as his world was crashing around his ears. How could his mother have birthed another male’s baby—the male of his father’s best friend and trusted comrade? He shook his head and sank to his seat. “It is private, my Cat. Sherem would not feel comfortable while this is being discussed.” “She may stay, Zorroc. Maybe she can make sense of it all but first I want to see my mate. Will you send for her?” On top of the disastrous news Zorroc repeated from his communications with Nadia, Sherem had been told of a naked Adonis carrying her in his arms when they arrived on the Miramid. Who was he and where was Bran? He had not heard from him since he reported they were safe. And now his father had COM’d when he had no desire to deal with either him or his mother. 198

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Sherem nodded and listened to his father’s frantic greeting. “Hello father, it is good to hear your voice,” he replied without much feeling. “How is mother?” “Insane with grief and worry. We received a COM from Rand two days ago that the Portender was destroyed with you, Dakar, and your mate along with it. And now we are unable to contact Kindarak for confirmation. Your mother has been frantic—what in all Hell is going on?” A feminine sob sounded in the background and his mother appeared on the screen. “We’re fine mother, all of us including the Portender and her crew but we had a…ah, slight scuffle.” “Was Kindarak involved in this “scuffle”?” King Royce guessed. “The Stealth is no more. Kindarak was running deadly drug cartel using Assyllis. Either someone from Gattonia or Nefar has found a way to smuggle mass quantities for a drug called Angels Gate. The Portender and Miramid incinerated her leaving no space debris behind. I am sorry for the loss of your friend.” Sherem added with clenched teeth. If Nadia ever betrayed him for another he could not fathom his response. Did his father truly not know of the affair? Sherem cleared his throat. “Father, I would like to speak to mother alone for a few moments.” Their reaction was instantaneous. His mother threw herself at his father and sobbed, “Oh Royce, he knows, he knows.” Sherem had never seen his mother in such a state and while she sobbed, Royce met his son’s gaze steadily with deadly intent. “Mia, you are upsetting our son, go to our chambers. I will explain and all will be well, will it not Sherem.” It was not phrased as a question and Sherem knew his duty. “I swear it on my life, mother, now go so father and I may talk. We love you,” Sherem exclaimed suddenly. Both of his parents gawked at their son, rarely did he ever declare his feelings. “Can you remember when last you saw Kindarak in our home?” Royce asked. “I told Nadia I thought it was about sixteen cycles past. I didn’t wonder at the gap of visits until just recently. Father, is Rand Kindarak’s son?” Royce reeled in shock. Sherem was not sure if it was his blatant inquiry or another unknown reason. When his mother fell apart about his knowing, Sherem assumed that was what the fuss was about. “Rand is mine,” his father replied forcefully, “and your mother’s.” 199

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“But Kindarak told me…” Royce closed his eyes in anguish and lifted his head to the heavens. “My former friend and your godfather raped your mother right around the time that Rand was conceived. When she found she was with child the first thing she checked was the DNA of the fetus; when the results confirmed the boy was mine, she kept it. I do not know to this day if she would have made the same choice had the result been different. “With the changed behavior of Mia toward Kindarak, I became suspicious and confronted her some sixteen cycles past when Rand was little more than a babe. It was a difficult time for us.” “Changed how, father?” “I noticed that she could not stand Kindarak’s touch or to even look at him and constantly made excuses to leave any room he occupied. Since their relationship had always been one of warmth and friendship, I naturally became suspicious. You must understand that your mother and I shared a formal mating for purposes of political bonds. It was not until Kindarak raped your mother that our bond developed into a true mating filled with respect, friendship…and even love. I decided to shun Kindarak rather than kill him; uncomfortable questions would have been asked and your mother had been though quite enough at the hands of that monster. I discouraged any contact with my sons, as well, which is why you cannot recall seeing him for a long while. I only learned with Rand’s COM about the Portender that Kindarak remained in his life, keeping up the uncle act all the while.” Sherem shook his head, baffled. “How could you not know of their relationship? Why would he hide it?” “I cannot say, really. Rand told me it was because his godfather told him that he wished to avoid you and Dakar becoming jealous of their relationship, considering it was so much closer than yours. He apparently spent obscene amounts of credits on him and traveled with him quite a lot. “Your mother and I have our own obligations to Nefar that keep us buried most of the time and you have always gone your own way.” “What about Dakar? He and Rand were always close.” “I do not know, son, you will have to ask Dakar.” “The thing that has us so upset is that Kindarak contacted Rand and told him about the Portender—and that he was Rand’s true father after a brief love-lost affair with 200

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your mother. Now Rand doubts his true parentage and no amount of denial from us will convince him.” Sherem shrugged. “Show him through DNA. At any rate, the point is moot. Kindarak is dead. Both the Stealth and the Miramid destroyed her—after rescuing Nadia and a small boy along with Ryder, the Prince of Kerr and his crew.” “I am relieved he is gone and even more relieved you are well. Kindarak was…not rational and seemed to deteriorate over time.” “That is not the half of it. Aside from being a drug lord responsible for killing perhaps thousands, he had some obscene plan to kill you, mate with mother, take over your throne, keeping my mate as his whore.” Sherem could not stem the fury of his proclamation. And soon he would be facing his mate seen in the arms of another male— a naked male. Since hearing the tale upon his arrival to his ship and subsequent meeting with Nadia’s brother; he hoped his rage had cooled enough to confront her and her lover. How could she let a stranger touch her? And then to hear of his mother’s infidelities directly from the mouth of Kindarak, well, they were the last words he uttered before he vanished and the battle commenced. “I must go…Tell mother that we understand and not to worry. We will straighten out our youngest brother.” “That will be appreciated.” Royce cleared his throat uncomfortably. “There is one further bit of business…”

*** Nadia felt the mental link with Bran sever. “Faster,” she commanded. The bullets were extracted in minutes and the incisions closed though it felt like hours. “Test them and determine their composition,” she ordered one of the techs. Bran had slipped into a coma. Sonny came charging around the corner and made a beeline in her direction. He threw his arms around her thighs, tears leaking from his eyes. “I felt him in my head and then lost him. Will your dog be all right? He can talk, you know.” Nadia emitted an anguished laugh. “He is so much more than a dog, sweetheart; he is my friend and almost gave his life for ours.” “So he will be fine,” Rees stated as he slipped his hand in hers.

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Cat chose that moment to come charging into the room and threw herself at Nadia. “Thank God you are safe. We’ve been worried sick and your mate a burly, inconsolable barbarian, as usual. He even attacked your brother,” she stated indignantly. “Rocky can take care of himself, I am sure,” Nadia commented. “Actually, I attacked Sherem. He begged Zorroc to get me off him.” Nadia laughed helplessly through her tears for Bran. She could just picture the scene but then sobered. “Where is Sherem, I think Bran is doing better.” She added for fear of Sonny’s reaction. Cat went over to a now fully changed ankou and ran her hand down Bran’s fur, tears welling in her emerald eyes. “He’s on his way but I thought I’d warn you, while in our chambers, Sherem’s parents contacted him.” Cat explained the gist of the conversation detailing Kindarak’s relationship with Sherem’s mother. “She was raped? Somehow that does not come as a surprise. What else?” “Uh, there is some rumor going around that you were carried to safety by a really hunky guy and after the news about Sherem’s mother…well safe to say he’s a bit put out.” “Hoyboy, it is easily explained, I just hope he gives me the chance. You’re still fidgeting, sister mine, out with the rest of it,” Nadia implored, wiping her suddenly tingling hands on her robe. Cat squirmed. “Well, I did overhear a bit of the conversation…” Nadia just bet she did which brought back memories of another time when the two of them listened in to Zorroc’s one time fiancé and her brother delivering the news of his and Cat’s mating. Nadia raised an eyebrow and waited. “Ah, here is Camille to take you to the children, Sonny. They are up and want to meet you.” “Are you sure Bran will be alright?” Nadia could tell he was torn between his delight in finally playing with children and his concern for Bran. “He will be fine, sweetheart, he just needs to rest.” Nadia encouraged. When the nanny’s and Sonny’s steps could no longer be heard, she turned to Cat. “It seems that they are aware of your and Sherem’s mating and seek to overturn it on the grounds that you may be infertile because of the virus. They want the bond overturned. Your brother is outraged.” 202

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Nadia, caught unawares, sank into a chair feeling sick to her stomach. After all the cycles he had chased her and everything they had survived since embarking on their journey to have his parents bring it all to an end. What would Sherem do? And what would her brother do to Sherem and possibly Nefar. Zorroc could pull the Assyllis contract for such an insult to her. Zorroc was overly protective; Zazu, he could demand satisfaction from Sherem and die because of her. Or if he got lucky, could kill Sherem. The two males she adored beyond reason. She had to stop them. Without realizing it she had risen, scrambling for the exit. “Stop!” Her pintsized sister-in-law demanded. “He loves you, Nadia, trust him to work this out.” Nadia snorted. “I know Zorroc loves me, that is why I have to save him.” “Not your brother, numbskull—Sherem.” Nadia stopped dead. “What is a numbskull?” “You, if you don’t get hold of yourself. Sherem loves you, it won’t matter what the King and Queen command; Sherem will never let you go.” Nadia sighed. “More like he loves the lucrative Assyllis trade.” ‘I believe “numbskull” a very apt description for you if, for even an instant you believe that.” Sherem’s voice soft in her ear made her blush from her chest up to the top of her head. Nadia slowly turned to face him. “I did not mate with you for your productive organs. I lifemated with you because you make my heart beat, my blood coarse and my world complete as long as it contains you. Now you will explain who this male is that dares touch you; I would have a word with him.” “He is right over there.” “That is Bran,” Sherem murmured and took three giant steps to reach his side. “What happened, why was I not told!” He turned to the MTEs and lowered his voice pinning them with a glare. “What is his condition and what all is being done on his behalf? He is my protector. His life cannot be measured.” “Leave off, my friend; I am sure they are doing their best.” Bran did not move or change his respiration in any way but Sherem still heard the weak response. “Is there anything that you know that we, I, or the MTEs can do to assist in your healing?” “Poisoned,” Bran replied. “Have you determined the poison used?” Sherem asked the MTE in charge. 203

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He gulped. “P-p-poison? He was shot, we removed the missiles. Why would you think he was poisoned?” Sherem ignored the question. “Find out what was in the missiles or coated onto them. NOW!” He went to the COM and spoke quietly then turned to Nadia and Cat. “A team of our own is on their way to assist the Med-techs here.” Turning back to the three techs he said, “If he dies, so do you. Gattonians are purported to have superior skills, I would like a demonstration of that…or do I need to contact Zorroc to make my wishes clearer?” Sherem needed no further impetuous to persuade them of Bran’s worth. “No, your highness, we are checking now, sir, and will let you know momentarily.” “I remember that Kindarak was something of an alchemist,” Sherem added. “It may be a combination of components.” Four MTEs arrived from the Portender and Sherem realized that he, Nadia, and Catarina would only be in the way. “Rollins, I want an update as soon as possible. We will be in our chambers.” He led both Cat and Nadia out. “If you will excuse us, Catarina, I have need of your sister.” Sherem actually grinned when Cat blushed.

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“Now,” Sherem whispered into the disc around his neck, scooping Nadia into his arms. In the next instant they were in their chambers on the Portender. “Numb skull,” Sherem chuckled lightly. “How very amusing. I am coming to approve of your Catarina.” He dumped Nadia unceremoniously on the L-shaped lounge in the front chamber and growled frowning, “Now explain yourself! The male holding you in transport was nude while you were barely clothed.” “Explain yourself, numb skull, since you are so taken with the phrase! Do you really mean to defy your parents and keep me by your side as your only lifemate, as you promised? Or do you intend to take a second or even third mate, ones that can be certain of giving you off-spring?” At Sherem’s silence Nadia rose and marched into their sleeping chamber. “Hello J, it is good to be back. Please arrange the bathing pool to deep heat and massage; I am filthy from my ordeal.” “It awaits, Princess.” “J, you are supposed to call me Nadia.” “Only in private.” “Oh, don’t mind the raging bull there, maybe if we ignore him he will disappear.” “Do not count on it, Princess,” Sherem answered; shedding layer after layer until he stood naked and fully aroused. He crossed to Nadia, divesting her of the robe with one fluid tug and froze, his gaze rolling over every exposed inch of her. Nadia squirmed under his regard. It had been scorching hot and stuffy in her cell, so she’d first ripped the sleeves off her gown, then stripped out of her Kameri skin and finally tore the floor-length skirt until the hem brushed her thighs. “It was unbearably warm; I had to make adjustments to my attire.” Sherem gulped hard and rent the tattered garment in two before throwing her over his shoulder, stomping to the pool and lowering her in—with great care. As if she was some fragile miss. Loud rantings she could handle but his gentleness caused unexpected tears to fall silently down her cheeks. After settling 205

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in beside her, he kissed them away, arranging her across his lap where he cleansed her from face to feet and finally hair. He languidly massaged her scalp and after rinsing, allowed her to wash him. She loved the slow pace he’d initiated but awareness bubbled, tingled, and thrummed inside her until even her fingertips sang in response. She took extra care with his rock hard erection; wrapping one hand firmly around it stroking up over his bulbous red tip then down to his root, and using her other hand to cradle and gently knead his balls. His head fell back and his eyelids lowered to half-mast but failed to hide the fire of desire scorching her to her womb. Nadia thrilled to his every groan, harsh breath, and tremor until he surged up with her in his arms and followed her down when he reached their mat…and licked her dry. Nadia felt just like the heroines in her aunt’s books. He was seducing her—all of her until every touch made her cry out with wonder at his ministrations. He made her feel equal parts worshipped and rabid to have him inside her. Over her. Demanding her surrender. Filling her to bursting. “Sher, please,” she wailed. Their lovemaking before had always been fast, hard, controlling—proving his mastery over her. He had never finessed or slowly, tenderly made love to her. What could it mean? “I love you,” he groaned, thrusting into her to the hilt. Nadia climaxed from the combination of being impaled and his admission but he gave her no time to savor the waves of ecstasy or his words. His masculine scent surrounded her as effectively as his body’s invasion. When he slightly adjusted his angle Nadia crested again. He literally purred creating a pulsating beat she felt inside her womb and clear down to her toes. He turned greedy, ravenous, and ruthlessly determined to conquer her. Pummeling into her, faster and harder, Sherem snaked a hand down her abdomen, grazing then circling her clitoris with his thumb. When he shouted his completion, Nadia’s senses spiraled crazily causing a startled yelp to escape her lips and the walls of her vagina to spasm on and on, increasing in force instead of ebbing, propelling her groan to a keening wail. Sherem studied his mate quizzically, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He had given her la petit mort—the little death. The ultimate completion. He stayed inside her rolling onto his back until she rested on top of him refusing to sever their connection. Surely he had proven their bond too elemental and meaningful to risk it by mating with a stranger even for the purposes of an heir. That was what brothers were for and after witnessing the mating mark on Tula, a child surely could not be far behind. 206

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Nadia groaned, slowly opening her eyes. “You said that you love me. Does that mean you have changed your view on the subject or was it simply a misspeak?” “Yes,” Sherem answered. Nadia quickly looked away and made to rise. He held her in place. “What I feel for you transcends love in a million different ways. I adore you, misulu. And regret it took me so long to realize it. Your sister-in-law is right. I will never let you go. You were entirely too much trouble to catch.” He paused after each word to kiss and caress her face, neck, and arms. “But your parents…” “Will never come between us nor will a second mate. If we cannot have little ones, my other two brothers can certainly fill the nursery until it spills over with baby giggles. The only thing in life I cannot live without is you.” Nadia tightened her grasp around his waist and buried her face in his neck mumbling the words that soothed his soul and made it sing. She was his. He drifted into oblivion colored with Nadia in poses past, he grinned in his sleep…and future.

*** “Nadia, what do you think you’re you doing!” shrieked a familiar staccato exclamation, jerking Nadia out of a solid slumber. “Wha…” she mumbled. Nadia had left her snoring barbarian to sit with Bran in case he awoke in the early hours. Rollin’s reported that the poison had been identified and neutralized but he remained in a coma-like slumber. She must have gone to sleep with her hand still tangled in Bran’s fur because her arm and hand were numb and her back pulled painfully when she sat up. Disoriented, she focused on both, Tula and Cat, Cat having issued the awakening accusation. She noticed they were of similar height and build and both wore identical expressions of horror. Nadia blinked and shook her head in confusion. “What do you mean, what am I doing? I am sitting with Bran. He saved my life; the least I can do is be here when he revives. That’s what I’m doing. Now explain what you are doing. Where is Sonny?” Nadia paused realizing Tula had boarded the Miramid and that the two had met one another. She further noticed Tula’s mating tattoo and smiled to herself. “That is not Bran!” Cat admonished. “That is a man.” “Male,” Tula quietly corrected.

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Nadia swung her head around and gaped at the beautiful hunk, and at her tingling hand resting low on his abdomen. She snatched it away, speechless. He was naked, dark skinned, with steel colored, shaggy hair…and still unconscious. “It is not…It is….” Nadia brandished. Cat snorted. “What it is; is perfectly clear to the naked, er, the ahhh…” The three watched in disbelief as the male transformed into Bran. Utter silence reined for a solid minute before Bran groaned and lifted his head. “Bran?” Nadia whispered. “Whom were you expecting? What did he pump me with, acid flakes? Where are Sherem and his son, are they safe?” he mind-spoke Nadia’s eyes bulged. “Sherem’s son?” she queried. Was he confused after his ordeal or… “Son?” the other two bleated in unison. Bran shook his coat and jumped from the table, completely healed. “Do you mean Sonny?” Nadia asked. “What does he mean by son? Is he talking about Sonny? I mean, no doubt he must be referring to someone’s son, but Sherem’s? That would mean…” Cat clamped her mouth shut. “He has been spreading his seed around,” Tula finished. “Kindarak called Sonny the Son, S - o - n of Nefar. He is Sherem’s child. The mother sold him to Kindarak, with the assurance that he would deliver Rees, the boy’s real name, into the hands of Sherem. Unfortunately, he decided to use Rees as a pawn in a vicious game of blackmail and leverage.” “Sonny…Rees…” Could that be why Nadia felt an immediate attachment to the child? For it was true; he had much of his father in him. Nadia paused. How did she feel, however, that another female had gifted Sherem with a son when she may very well be barren? Thoughts of Sun…, no Rees’s unvarnished caring and bravery raced around her mind and she decided that he could not be blamed for being born. As it stood, she had determined that she and Sherem would adopt him anyway. This way she would not have to convince Sherem. It was a fait accompli. “Princess, your attention. Are Sherem and Rees safe?” “Bran wants to know how Su…er, Rees is faring.” 208

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“Rees is resting and well fed.” Cat answered. “The triplets and he have become fast friends and teaching him the diabolical tricks every yard-ape should know. He came to visit you when you were unconscious, and as soon as Camille gets some food into him this morning, I’m sure he’ll be back—probably with the triplets in tow.” Bran groaned. Tula rubbed behind Bran’s ear. “Should you be up? Only a few hours ago we were terrified you would not survive. Everyone has been…frantic for you.” Nadia almost laughed. Obviously Tula had been informed of Nadia’s highhandedness. Maybe blazer-handed would be more accurate. If she had it to do over, her tactics would be the same. “Tell her I have suffered no lasting affects from the acid fire,” he counseled Nadia. “He says, thank you, but he is fine.” Nadia glanced back to Bran and added, “Sherem is fine, as well and the Stealth has been destroyed, save for Prince Ryder and his crew. I suppose the first order of business is informing Sherem of his fatherhood and getting him settled close to us in the Portender.” Nadia made for the exit. Cat paused. “Wait a sec. We’ll be landing in a couple of hours, sweetie, I heard Zorroc receive permission from Jasper. Plus, he’s still asleep. Maybe it should wait until we land. “Um, one thing that can’t wait however is…shouldn’t we tell Bran about his change in, uh, appearance? He can’t just go switching back and forth, flashing that naked—literally to die for body to the masses.” Nadia shrugged. “He changed on the Stealth in order to carry me out. I doubt it will come as much of a surprise.” “Changed? Of what is the wood nymph speaking?” Bran asked. “Just a moment ago you changed from human to ankou and last night must have changed from ankou to human. Were you aware of that?” “No. I wonder if my body affected the change to accelerate healing? Convey my apologies to Zorroc’s wood nymph and Tula for startling them.” Nadia laughed out loud. “Bran, there are no such things as wood nymphs. They are a myth. A made up story. Cat is just a small Earth female.” “Do not voice beliefs for which you have no practical knowledge.” Cat cocked her head at Nadia’s surprised scrutiny. “This is decidedly unfair. I know you’re talking about me.” She focused on Bran, deciding to get a little of her own 209

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back. “You know Bran, you just proved an ancient Earth axiom that touts—‘You are what you eat’.” Bran looked positively horrified. “Bran, are you well?” Sherem’s inquiry startled him for a moment but then he answered. “I doubt I will ever be well again. Do you think it possible to become what you eat?” “Huh?”

*** Bran, in human form, fully suited, walked companionably down the corridor with Nadia and entered the jetquik to Sherem and Nadia’s chambers. The Miramid had already ported in Jasper and the Portender was making final preparations to follow. “Do not fret, little one, all will be well. Sherem will take one look at the tiny scrapper and fall in love.” “Quit doing that; it’s impolite.” “Doing what?” “Reading my mind. And I know it will be alright, I am just…I want so much for him to be happy about it—not for me but for Rees. We have a lot to make up for, and to reassure Rees that he is safe and wanted.” Nadia shook her head. “A nightmare about his life up to this moment and the way he was treated aboard the Stealth is the reason I ended up at your bedside. Ha, I thought that I had it rough with no mother or father, to speak of, but at least I had my brothers and two aunts. And I was secure in their love. First Rees is born into poverty, then sold by his own mother, then starved, tortured, and hid in the bowels of a ship with a madman at the helm. I can hardly credit it, and it makes me worry how everything will affect him in the cycles to come.” “He is a survivor, Nadia. And with all of the bad things that have happened to him, he remains a caring, intelligent, and incredibly clever human. He will make a fine male and warrior when he is grown.” Nadia looked stunned; blurting, “Warrior?” “Yes. He will want to protect those unable to protect themselves—exactly like your mate.” They had exited the jetquik and stood outside the panel. Nadia took a deep breath and before she could voice the code, the panel whooshed open to an agitated Sherem. 210

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“What is this male doing with you? Is he the one who carried you to safety?” He yanked Nadia behind him to face the intruder who all were speaking of—galling him no end. Sherem should have been the one to rescue her…or Bran. Nadia had dodged his question the night before and after appraising at the enigmatic warrior before him, the answer became clear. “It is good to see you, as well, and acting every bit like the jealous ass I have come to know so well. It is I, barbarian,” Bran mind-spoke, humor dancing in the depths of his familiar grey eyes. “I would have explained last night but decided it best you see for yourself.” “Bran?” he marveled incredulously. “You can talk.” “I have for quite some time, if you recall.” “Zazu, you are just full of surprises.” “You have no idea,” he agreed drolly. “May I enter?”

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Chapter Twenty-Five

“Ah,” Sherem uttered, eyeing Nadia uncomfortably, “are you sure?” By all that was holy, he thanked the powers he was not an older male. If Bran’s shape-shifting to human form had not proved bizarre enough, plus listening to him with his ears instead of his mind—finding out Kindarak purchased a child he had fathered and intended to use for whatever nefarious purpose his sick mind could conjure certainly capped it. And what could be going through Nadia’s mind? She had been holding herself unnaturally still and not commented once. Would her hard won trust in him be shattered? His day had begun poorly, first without his mate by his side after an incredible night of lovemaking; then Bran turning up human, and now this—a little boy; his little boy. Visualizing the past experiences of the poor mite only compounded his state. He stole another glance at his mate. A rock exhibited more animation. “Positive.” Bran sat on the cushioned lounger with his legs crossed, similar to Sherem’s, feeling uncomfortable and awkward. His clothing chaffed in a most coveted area of his anatomy; making him squirm to accommodate the appendage between his legs. If that was not bad enough, he had to urinate—not at all sure how to accomplish the deed in his present form. Before, he had always used the botanical solarium deciding his excretions provided a satisfactory fertilizer. Now, however, he would be forced to use the clean room. He almost groaned in consternation. Sherem broke into his thoughts. “This is no time to mind wander; I asked how old is he?” Bran looked to Nadia who shrugged. “I would guess approximately five cycles but I believe only his mother could provide the exact number.” Sherem grunted, trying to hide his relief. At least Rees had been born before he had met Nadia. Barely. A point he intended to drive home when they had some privacy. “Since the mother resides in Jasper it seems only logical that you contact her and ask.” 212

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Sherem squirmed with the knowledge that it could be one of many he barely remembered let alone knew the name of. His carefree days returned to haunt him. He could not even COM Rosik for assistance. He studied Bran, noticing he fidgeted as well. “I am the one in the hot seat, why are you twitching about?” he mind-spoke. Bran groaned in Sherem’s mind, explaining his dilemma. Sherem shot back the step by step procedure and felt Bran sigh. “If you will excuse me, I will return with, er, the child.” Bran all but fled from the room. Sherem thought Nadia whispered ‘coward’ and grinned. He moved to sit close to her, nestling her against his side. “Rees was born before we met; you should not be upset. I am not even sure of the mother’s identity; I had no lasting affairs before you, my Nia,” he added for good measure. “It’s not th…” Sherem nuzzled her just behind her left ear. “That’s not…” He kissed her cheek, brushing his lips up to her temple. “Tell me your thoughts, misulu. Are you afraid I will take her to mate?” Nadia jerked suddenly, telling him the prospect not occurred to her. He had stuck his proverbial foot into dung once again. “If not that then tell me.” “It would be easier with you across the room; you are distracting me.” When he merely smiled Nadia sighed. “I never had the test.” She whispered the words so softly Sherem barely registered them. “What test?” “The one that would determine if I am sterile.” Sherem rushed to reassure her but she put her fingers over his lips to block his words. “I believe you, and I trust you…and I love you.” She sat up and faced him. “I want to adopt Rees. I want to be his mama and raise him and love him and spoil him to make up for these last years. I want us to heal him and give ourselves over to make him a happy, confident, and whole child. And not because I am afraid I may be infertile but because I love him already. I want you to love him, too, and I want us to be a family.” Nadia’s words rushed out of her so fast Sherem barely understood what she was trying to say. When he did he took her hand covering his lips and kissed them, he saw her eyes glaze over making him cherish her all the more. Such a gentle creature and such a strong one; still waters, indeed, ran very deep. And though he loved her to distraction, he knew little of her except what was widely discussed. She remained a mystery. “What were you like as a little girl? Were you a confident, precocious little hellion, climbing trees, 213

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collecting bugs, eating mud pies and giving everyone in radius heart failure with your antics?” Nadia looked down, placing her hands in her lap. “I believe that I was quiet. My mother died giving birth to me, something very rare in these times, but she had a reaction to the birthing medication. It stopped her heart and a choice had to be made in a split second whether to save my life or hers. Apparently, it was not known for some time if I would be normal because of the loss of oxygen—and because I did not speak until I was three. My father was heartbroken over my mother’s death, disconsolate, and could not seem to look at or be around me. I – I went to see one day when I was very young. He was feeling unwell and wasting away. Anyway, when I went into his chambers with a book and asked him to read to me, he grabbed it, threw it against the wall, and called me a killer. An abomination.” Her knuckles were white, her hands buried in the folds of her robe. “I’ve never told anyone that story before. I felt so ashamed.” She snuck a look at him before continuing. “I have always believed that he made the wrong choice and should have saved my mother instead.” Sherem grabbed her, almost squeezing the air out of her. “Sherem,” she squeaked. He loosened his grip but could not meet her gaze. “How could they treat you that way! You are precious, coveted, unique, and genuinely valued for the female you are,” Sherem ranted. “Please, do not think I was mistreated in any way. Rocky and Linc spoiled me to distraction allowing me to follow them everywhere, while Jaffers told me stories every night and tucked me in when my aunts were on an off-world assignment. And though I mourned my father, when he passed, I did not feel his absence because I never really knew him. “If I could ask just one thing of you, Sher, it would be that you spend lots of time with Rees, playing with him, engaging him, and reading to him at night. I know this is fast; that it is too soon for children but if I have to; I will beg. Every child deserves to be wanted, loved, and cherished for the miracle they are.” “Hum, seems to me that you are asking more than just one ‘thing of me’. I would be responsible for nurturing and wanting my own son. And that I love, cherish, and play with him. “But if I accomplish all that, what would be left for you to do?” he teased. 214

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Nadia smiled. “I will sing to him, play with him and above all, love you both more than words could ever describe.” Sherem buried his face in her hair to hide his tears and swore he would love, worship, and care for his misulu for all of his remaining days; which he prayed would be many—a lifetime. Even encompassing the lifetime beyond. Mia, Sherem’s mother, had slipped in when the huge dark male vacated, motioning him to silence. The Portender had just landed and she wanted to surprise her son and talk some sense into him about his supposed mating with the Gattonian princess. Instead she left as quietly as she entered. She wanted to see her first grandchild.

*** The cacophony of screams, pounding feet, shouts, and giggles flooded the corridor as Sherem and Nadia stepped out of the jetquik on the children’s floor of the Miramid. They studied each other briefly both apprehensive about entering the melee waiting behind the panel. As one, they grabbed each other’s hand, sighed then marched to their fate. The panel gave way to a reveal a scene straight from a circus; so many images hit Nadia at once, she froze with the effort to process it all. Her three nephews were dressed in loud, primal colors complete with painted faces—riding Bran, one on his head and two bouncing on his back as he slowly made his way around the room. Rees was sitting patiently with an older female while she applied bright red hearts on his cheeks and black spades around both eyes. Nadia could not decide whether he looked accepting or patiently miserable. The lady patted and cooed between every stroke of her color wand. At that moment Nadia wondered if he would have preferred life on the Stealth…and fought an unruly grin. Cat hopped enthusiastically behind her children on Bran while a calm, content Zorroc sat on a chair sipping choc-tea. Camille was absent. Smart Camille. Sherem stopped dead when his gaze pounced on—Geez, his... “Mother?” Sherem gawked. Mia gave Rees one last pat and rose. “Hello, darling. I see you made it safely. Greetings Nadia, welcome to our family; Royce and I are simply overjoyed.” She approached with the marker still in hand and Nadia unconsciously backed up. Sherem tightened his grip and tugged her forward. 215

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“Cat and Rocky kindly invited us over to meet our grandson. He looks so much like you when you were that age. We are ecstatic. And he is very bright and incredibly brave to have persevered as he has.” “How could you possibly know all this when I…” Mia blissfully waved him away. “Mothers have their ways, my precious son. Where is Dakar? We sent for Rand; he is due in tonight. It seems cycles since the entire family was together.” Sherem’s gaze riveted on to his son and Rees, as well, eyed him carefully. Nadia held out her hand and Rees approached grabbing it like a lifeline. She bent over and whispered, “How’s it going, sweetheart?” “I’m not sure. Is he really my father?” “He sure is.” Nadia turned toward Sherem but he was already kneeling. “I am so sorry, son. I didn’t know, I swear. I would have come for you, I…” Rees jumped into his arms. Sherem did not bother to hide his tears. How had Rees managed, even thrived, with such a perverted monster. Hugging his son tightly he realized just how starved he felt under his hands. They had given him barely enough to sustain his life and for that Sherem wished he could kill Kindarak again. And again. And again. He cleared his throat. “You are coming with us when you get through playing with your cousins; alright?” “Cousins?” “Yes, the terrible three are your cousins. Nadia’s nephews are your cousins. You are related to all these people. Overwhelming, huh?” “Naw, they’re pretty fun.” Rees squirmed to look Sherem in the eyes. “We are on Jasper,” he hedged. Sherem took his hand and led him a little way down the hall. “Yes, we are. Who is your birth mother, can you remember?” “You do not know?” Sherem hung his head. “I was younger and had yet to meet Nadia. The culture on Jasper is…” “I just wondered. My mother was called Ranilla but Nadi told me that I would be her permanent, forever mother. And she told me you would be my father so we could be 216

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a family. Nadi told me all kinds of things but she failed to prepare me for all this.” He motioned behind him grinning sheepishly. Sherem laughed out loud. “Me neither. They are quite something, huh?” Rees smiled. “Yeah.” “Rees, would you like to visit with your birth mother while we are here? From what I understand, she believed that Kindarak, who at one time was close to my family, would bring you directly to me. It was not her fault and I am sure she misses and loves you. And though your place is now with Nadia and me, if you want to visit, we will.” “She was sick. It is why she did what she did. She is not bad.” “Of course not; we will look for her starting tomorrow. And it will give you time to get to know your Aunt Cat and Uncle Zorroc…and your grandparents.” “Hi, is everything okay?” Rees and Sherem sprang apart peering guiltily at Nadia. Looking from one to the other, she could not believe she’d not recognized the resemblance of father to son. They wore twin expressions of chagrin. She crossed her arms under her breasts. “What are you up to?” “Nothing,” they both spurted in unison. Nadia eyed first one then the other and said, “Fine. I will be in our allotted chambers. Tula is meeting me at the castle and from there to the market. I will leave you to get acquainted.” She sauntered into the jetquik and disappeared. “That went well,” Sherem commented dryly, leading Rees into a fit of giggles. Sherem chuckled and held out his hand. “Let’s do some research to find your mom, then I want to show you the Portender…and introduce you to J.” “J?”

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“How did you get in?” Nadia asked. “I thought I left you in the children’s wing.” Mia fluttered her hand in a dismissive gesture. “J let me in. I thought it time we had a chat.” Whoa, if there was one thing Nadia wanted to avoid, it was a ‘chat’ with Sherem’s mother. “How delightful,” she blurted instead. “You love my son.” “Yes.” “And you similarly love his son, though spurred through another union.” Nadia fought a laugh. Spurred? Union? Why not just say fucked, knocked-up, or even impregnated…if you wanted to get polite? “Um, yes, absolutely,” she responded instead. With a straight face. So far things were going splendidly. Gag. They understood one another and Sherem’s parents were not going to object their ‘union’. “Then we will be off,” Mia declared standing up. “Um, I beg your pardon?” Nadia had not been paying attention. “Well, to have you tested, of course. Since it no longer matters whether you are fertile or not, you may as well have the test.” Sherem and Rees chose that moment to enter. Thank Zazu. Sherem took in the scene, his mate’s expression and acted. “Mother, how kind of you to visit but the three of us would like the remainder of the evening to ourselves. I am meeting with Queen Heptshu in the morning and from there making further plans to rescue the captain of the Miramid.” He kissed her lightly on each cheek and bid her farewell. “Tomorrow, early, my dear,” Mia reasserted, before making her exit. “Humm, very smooth…and great timing,” Nadia put in. Rees leaned against Sherem’s leg, slightly dead to the world. “Let’s put him to sleep; he has had a very action-packed day.” 218

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“I agree.” Sherem swept him up and put him in a separate sleeping chamber right across from theirs. He failed to utter a peep. “Now, about us,” he stated. He caught her up into his arms and carried her to their chamber. “I have been starved for you, misulu. Will you love me?” “I thought you did not believe in such.” “And now you know better. I not only love you but like, adore, and respect you. Can you say the same?” “I can absolutely concur.” Sherem slipped his hand down her breast, waist, and thigh; then explored her mons. “Love me, Sherem.” “An easy request.” He stripped her in fast order, using his actions to brush every curve, plane, erogenous zone, and satin slope of her golden skin. Her scent spurred him to heights he never thought attainable. She was his and he would never take that possession for granted. He lifted her high on his chest and popped her onto their mat. He was carefree…and energized; impossibly impressed with Rees as his mate. Love for her coated his psyche and spiked his libido. He kissed her deeply and thoroughly running his hands up her rib cage until finding her pebbled areolas, pinching them firmly, immersed in her reaction and acceptance of his touch. He stood and peeled off his uniform, causing his cock to bob straight out. He wanted her with an all-consuming hunger he could not control. But did she want him as much? Perhaps he read more into her heated gazes when he chanced to look her way. “Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell you? Touch me all over; cover me with your hard heat. Push inside me and fill me to overflowing over and over until I can take no more.” He growled and thrust into her wet, hot heat…and stilled. “Tell me you love me! Tell me you cannot survive without my arms around you and my cock deep inside you. Tell me you will never, ever leave my side.” He eased back and plunged into her again. “Say the words.” Sweat beaded his forehead as he stared deeply into her eyes. And Nadia let him see everything her heart held for him.

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“Love is too weak a word for what I feel for you,” Nadia whispered. “I will never leave your side by my own choice. I freely cleave to you, my darling, daring warrior; you hold my heart for all time.” Sherem began to move inside her with strong, steady strokes, pulsating with his own vibrating rhythm. He felt her begin to quake before her muscles clenched his penis and milked him until he came in a blinding rush of juices and emotion. It was only the first of five orgasms he gave her that night. Nadia awoke stretching languidly—to feel the empty, cold space that should have been her mate. “J, where is Sherem?” “With Queen Heptshu, I believe. And Queen Mia is waiting in the front parlor.” “Ugh, ugh, ugh. That female needs additional activities to occupy her mind beside the state of my reproductive organs.” Nadia flipped onto her stomach, feeling it lurch and sink to her toes. “J, I do not feel right.” Before J could respond, Nadia dashed to the commode and tossed her last meal; or what was left of it. The kabulki had been delicious the previous night but not nearly so appetizing regurgitating that morning. “Uhlgahawa.” Nadia sank onto the floor in a pool of sweat and lethargic limbs. “I do not find that word in my databanks.” Nadia wanted to laugh but unfortunately the toilet was once again calling to her. “Well, good grief! If a tiny fertility test is going to put you in such a state…” “Mother, leave now,” Sherem interjected. “J, get an EMT here.” He sank next to Nadia and held her hair. “What happened?” “Nothing; I think I suffer from influenza. Every planet possesses a set of annoying viruses. Even Gattonia. The residents become immune eventually but offworlders some times had a terrible time acclimating.” Nadia unloaded another stream vomit then rested her head on the rim. Sherem produced a goblet of fluid allowing Nadia to rinse her mouth. “The EMT has arrived, sir,” J announced. “Are you through for the moment, misulu?” Nadia nodded and he lifted her easily. “Unnecessary, Sher; my legs are working just fine.” “Permit me,” he whispered into her hair. Sherem left her with the tech only to confront his mother still in the front room. “Mother?” 220

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“Oh, for heavens sake, I warned you Gattonians are high-strung, and highbrowed, with weak constitutions. But you would not listen…and now you have gone and bound yourself to her; promising fidelity of all things. Well, at least you have Rees…and two brothers,” she added. Mia’s head shot up, surprise registering in her sable eyes. Sherem knew who stood behind and to the right of him. “Leave.” His quiet, deadly tone startled Mia. “I am pregnant,” Nadia announced quietly, making room for the Med-tech to scurry around her and shoot through the exit panel. Nadia turned around but paused. “If anyone is interested, I will be keeping the commode company.” Mia’s mouth gaped and she had the grace to look a touch shamefaced. “Now, mother; you are to leave now. And if I ever hear that wad of prejudiced bull-shit with concern to my choice of mates or her family, you will never again be invited into our lives.” Sherem marched over to the exit panel and said. “J, mother is leaving and will no longer have entrance privileges to the Portender. Mia gasped and marched out with a sniffle. Sherem should have experienced at least a glimmer of guilt but for some reason felt exhilarated. He had made his choice between Nadia and his family and obviously chosen right. Cleaved to him—that’s what she had said and he would nurture and protect that bond. Sherem ordered choc-tea and dry toast for two then went to hold his mate’s hair and keep a cool cloth on her brow.

*** “Gannett, I did not expect you.” Sherem studied his friend, or whom he had considered his trustworthy beyond question. Reports surfaced, however, which led him to the irrefutable conclusion that he was wrong. He brushed his hand through his hair. Did anyone truly know anyone? And then Nadia touched his thoughts and he almost smiled. With some cherished ones the answer proved yes. However, in Gannett’s case… “Do not say anything. Please, just allow me to speak.” Gannett did not look well. His skin was pasty, his eyes glazed and his limp more pronounced than Sherem had ever seen. Gannett had been born with a disease of the bone that could not be cured; only manipulated to lessen the deformity. But he had the driest wit and the greatest intelligence of anyone in his acquaintance. He also housed the gentlest, kindest soul. At least he believed that until a group of days ago. “I simply want to know why.” 221

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Gannett seemed to collapse into himself. “I was being blackmailed.” Of all the excuses Sherem had prepared himself for; this was not one. “You are the finest, strongest, fiercest warrior in our universe. I am weak, deformed and generally ignored by the opposite sex. But I found a lover who accepts my failings and applauds my intelligence. And takes care of me—is a physical therapist, actually, and has kept me from deteriorating faster than projected. Kindarak,” he spat the word like a curse, “found out about him.” At first Sherem thought he misunderstood but from Gannett’s expression, knew he had not. “You found a male to love and care for you.” “Yes.” Gannett’s confirmation was spoken with quiet self-possession. Homosexuals, while not entirely shunned, were not looked on with respect or the dignity they, in most cases, deserved. “I do not understand.” “Use the brain I know you posses! I live with and love a male. That is not acceptable—certainly not when I hold an important political position appointed by you. Your critics and enemies would eat you alive and when the Queen and King catch wind of it, the fall-out to you could be immense. Hell, Kindarak ferreted out my secret, and look what he did. And it is not over—others will find out.” A hysterical laugh escaped. “They already have. Someone else is blackmailing me now and is demanding even more “favors” than that maniac Kindarak. He wants credits along with the illegal shipments.” “Stop right there! First of all, do you think me so incompetent that I cannot defend my own appointments? Do you consider me such a fair weather friend as to abandon them when they are most in need of my friendship? Zazu, Gannett. Do you not know me at all? After all our cycles of friendship; after tutoring me through poly-kinetictheoretical-calibrations? I could care less about your sexual persuasions as long as they do not include my mate! We are friends first and I respect you greatly…until recently, of course. “Were you also Kindarak’s contact with the Horta? The truth, Gannett, loose ends make me nervous. Who but you could have had dealings with both parties?” “Horta, macronadin—my involvement begins and ends with supplying Assyllis. I only learned later how they were using it. I have had nightmares...” Gannett visibly shook, clearly distraught. 222

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“But the Horta?” he continued. “Are you sure? They are clannish and have no trust or liking for outsiders and no contact with any but for you.” “I am sure. I put a vial of the drug into the hands of some scientists on the Miramid. They separated the compounds and Macronadin is the binding property that makes it both powerful and deadly. So there has to be a connection. And perhaps that is who your blackmailer is.” “I would do anything to trap a trafficker of Angels Gate.” Zazu, Gannett was actually crying. “I am so ashamed. Benik told me to trust in your friendship but I did not. What can be done now?” “How are you being contacted?” Sherem knew his voice lowered gruffly but Gannett looked like he was close to swooning. “The missives are anonymous. I have not been able to trace the source. But either way, I must resign my position as Procurement Minister. I have compromised the office and engaged in illegal activities.” “Wait.” Sherem was thinking fast; Gannett was probably correct. The miracle would be keeping him from penance. He would never survive it. And no matter what, Sherem would not allow it. “We will set up a sting; act as if you are playing along then turn over the culprits. Kindarak is dead and is not here to testify in your involvements. We trap the current blackmailers and you will be rewarded for the foil.” Gannett pursed his lips in consternation. An expression identical to the one used back in academy days when the universe stood open for any dream as long as they passed their courses. At times Gannett had to pull Sherem through them with a combination of coercion, obstinate badgering for him to apply himself to his studies and threats to withhold tutoring him for good. “Thank you, I believe it will work, but I will also be exposed as a homosexual.” “So? It is time our people became more accepting of alternate life choices.” Gannett looked positively on the verge of a heart attack. He grabbed his chest and wheezed, his eyes bugged and his face bloomed to the color of a rose. “Oh, for heavens sake—breathe!” Nadia pounded Gannett between the shoulders. “It is not a death sentence, after all. Males,” she uttered under her breath.

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Sherem popped up and said, “What are you doing out of our mat. You are to rest and take care of the little one increasing inside you. How can he rest and grow when you are charging around loose, surprising your mate and clapping people in the back.” Nadia just put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. Gannett recovered and stood. “I see Sherem has chosen well. You are well matched. I am…” Nadia negated his outstretched hand and embraced him instead. “I have heard many tales of you, Gannett. It is a delight to finally meet you.” She turned to Sherem. “It seems that Tula has been busy. A party is planned encompassing our three families; a small gathering of, oh, fifty—including Queen Heptshu.” Looking back to Gannett, she added, “Of course, you are welcome, as well. Bring a guest if you wish.”

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TWENTY-SEVEN

Sherem paced across their chambers, stopping in thought occasionally with eyes scrunched shut or looking into space, and at others grumbling to himself. At first Nadia merely watched, fascinated with his panther movements and low grunts that reverberated deep inside her, but finally she had had enough. “Talk to me, maybe it will help clarify your thoughts. Someone is blackmailing Gannet and taken over Kindarak’s drug trade. Or at least is trying. And we know that he must be working with the Horta for the macronadin…” “And he is close, very close. I can feel it, almost feel his eyes on me and mine. He moves among us, misulu. I have missed something crucial; something right in front of me. The culprit was not on Kindarak’s ship when we exploded it. I suppose it could be one of the Kerrs but how would they have been privy to the workings of the Assyllis agreement we have with Gattonia? “There has to be another traitor; one that has hidden well and laid far under our sights.” “I hate to say this but I am afraid you are right. He could even be the mastermind behind the Horta attack instead of Kindarak.” Nadia jumped up and threw her arms around Sherem’s waist, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. He in turn laid a kiss on her shoulder and rubbed her back in a soothing motion. “Your crew…is there a lot of turnover? I mean the attacks began about two cycles past; could you cross reference to see who has joined your force since then? If he or she is actually on the ship…” “You are correct; it will give us something to narrow the actions down at any rate. Unless the person has been with me; working behind the scenes even longer.” “Let’s not borrow trouble.” Nadia lifter her head and grazed her lips over his. He immediately deepened the kiss to explore her moist cavity to engorge and engage her tongue. 225

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“We have to get ready for the party,” Nadia moaned, twining her hands around his neck. “We will be late, I guarantee,” he assured her. He lifted her high on his chest and carried her to their mat. “J,” he groaned, “correlate a list of all new personnel from two cycles past…and monitor all COMs. If anyone contacts Gannett, we will know who.” “As you wish, Sher,” J answered, stopping Sherem in his tracks. Nadia pulled his neck closer to her mouth and began to giggle helplessly. “Nadia is the only one with leave to call me by that endearment, never use it again.” Nadia thought she heard J sigh. “And no interruptions until further notice,” he finished. Nadia had already peeled his uniform from his shoulders; when he lowered her onto the soft downy comforter she kept hold of it, baring him to the tops of his thighs— her eyes a swirling temptation of illicit promise… His dark erection bulged and bobbed invitingly, and she licked her lips. When she raised her gaze to Sherem’s she could read his feral intent. She grinned; she had her own plans for his cock-lollypop. “Nadia.” His voice rasped in a deep, implied threat and her breathing came in shallow pants when she cradled his cock in her hands and took him in her mouth to the very back of her throat. Sherem grabbed hanks of her hair and began rocking; careful not to push too far. She licked, and sucked, and kissed, and swirled her tongue around his head. “No more, I am too close to orgasm and I want to come inside you.” “Nadia, misulu, please.” Though he begged her to stop he continued to move; all control caught in Nadia’s lips. “Ahhhhh,” he yelled low in his throat while Nadia lapped up every drop of cum. Sherem pushed her down and fell on top of her; spent. He loved, craved, and lusted her—and every time they lay together his feelings grew in proportions so great that they swamped, nearly drowning him. He could not…would not lose her to whatever threat remained. And he would find and destroy it, but for now he intended to love her completely until her legs would fight to hold her weight when they finally attended the family festivities that evening. He almost felt as if he floated onto to her—into her. In a matter of seconds he was hard, hard, hard. And something more occurred. He felt her in his head; felt her arousal, her love, her total devotion to him and her thoughts fired his. It was exactly how 226

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he felt—he wanted to eat her and love and cherish her…and keep her from harm. “I can feel you in my head…in my heart.” “Yes, you are well and truly captured, barbarian.” “May I remind you that this barbarian is still quaking in your womb?” Ugh, Nadia thought, Sherem was becoming obsessed with her body—not in the way she intended but in protecting her from every little glitch. There was absolutely no reason to assume that this final threat had anything to do with her but Sherem insisted that she don the Kameri leathers under her gown; one similar to the one she had worn onto the Stealth. Long sleeves, long gown, high neck. It had not helped her in that situation—and with her family and friends literally surrounding her, could not fathom how it would assist her now. Males. “You look stunning, mate.” Sherem rubbed his large hands down her sleeves, onto her waist and then cupped her mons—still swollen from his earlier ministrations. Hum, maybe wearing the gown he desired had hidden benefits. J chose that moment to chime in. “The list is complete, Sher-em.” Sherem cursed under his breath. “It holds only thirty-one names. The report awaits in your POD.” “Cursed party. I need to take care of this now; not prancing around with a bunch of royal Gattonians and Jasperi.” “You are “royal”, as well,” Nadia reminded him. “The list will be here when we return and perhaps Gannett has received a missive. Be charming. Let’s go.” Sherem sighed, taking one last glance to the wall shielding the miniature POD. The “family gathering” had grown to include the crews of both the Miramid, and Portender, and a generous portion of Jasperi elite. In short Sherem’s worst nightmare when faced with a threat from an unknown source. He signaled Jorge over. “The Queen certainly knows how to launch an event,” Jorge said. “I have received word that a last threat exists—someone attempting to overtake the distribution of Angels Gate is threatening our Procurement Minister to attain surplus Assyllis. I am putting my full trust in you, Jorge, both as a friend and my Captain. Keep your eyes open for anything seeming not quite right; I promise to take your observations seriously. And watch all those around my mate because of the past history in using her to get to me.” 227

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Jorge whistled under his breath. “I would want you at my back, as well, my friend. I will keep a fast eye and clear instinct. Nadia will not be taken from you again.” He moved away and flanked Nadia, drawing Dakar into conversation who seemed equally as preoccupied in both Tula’s and Nadia’s welfare. Three sets of eyes would be watching. Gattonia’s Procurement Minister seemed nervous but had a male guarding him so Jorge was not overly concerned. “I need to use the facilities,” Nadia murmured to Cat. Cat nodded imperceptively and whispered, “Safety in numbers, let’s grab Tula and go together, er, so to speak.” Nadia tittered and leaned to whisper to Tula. She actually looked relieved. They had been standing for almost three hours drinking jive, and if nothing else would want to sit in the outer lounge for a moment. “How have your lessons been going,” Cat asked Tula. “Pretty good, Nadia drills me two hours a day.” “She is doing great,” Nadia interrupted. “The self-defense techniques look more like a Zen event than protection maneuvers. She is a marvel.” Tula colored prettily. “I have a good instructor, packed with patience. I still am not sure if I could put them to use; I seem to lack the bloodthirsty gene in which you two excel.” “You’ll find it if you or someone you care for is being harmed, believe me,” Cat told her. Rollins scurried over to the three as they approached the female lounge. “Are any of you feeling ill? Apparently some of the plumonto canopies are tainted and causing, ah, unfortunate reactions. Fourteen people have collapsed so far, and I am making the rounds to make sure none of our crew are affected.” Nadia touched him on the shoulder. “Do not look so concerned, Rollins, we feel fine, right?” Nadia looked to first Cat then Tula, who merely shrugged. “I will check with the chefs and meet you inside the gathering after a few minutes. It seems almost an impossible occurrence. Actually, I have never heard of such,” she mumbled, floating down the corridor toward the kitchens. “Perhaps you both should come with me and let me check you over. It will not take but a moment, and your mates would never forgive me if I allowed you to become sick.” 228

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“What is amiss,” Bran’s voice echoed in Nadia’s mind. “You really are beginning to get scary. Nothing is wrong, exactly. Rollins is warning us about tainted food and wanting to take us for a quick check-up in case we ingested some.” “We are on our way.” “Rollins, you are just about as cute as a button and I’m very comforted by your concern but we’re just fine.” “Aren’t we?” Cat asked Nadia. “Who knows? I am increasing so nothing feels particularly great on my tummy. Something you have amply experience with.” Nadia gently nudged Cat. “But I have been careful with tonight’s offerings and had little more than choc-tea. I really think I am fine, Rollins.” “That is unfortunate, indeed.” A blazer seemed to appear magically in his hand— and in the next second Cat’s foot whopped up and knocked it from his hand sending it skyward then clattering, without firing, onto the floor about eight feet down the corridor. After that everything happened in tandem. Sherem’s roar, Zorroc’s shout, Bran’s body becoming visibly, propelling through the air and landing on the poor human stupid enough to threaten Zorroc’s and Sherem’s mate. Jorge arrived with blazer in hand and said, “Heal, Bran.” Bran looked like he was tempted to take Jorge’s head off and have it for an appetizer; and Nadia suddenly wanted to laugh at the entire scene. Poor Rollins, he looked like he had too many of the tainted canopies which Nadia realized was just a ruse to get Cat and Nadia away. “Rolly?” Gannett’s horrified voice split the cacophony. Nadia and Sherem stared at one another, feeling the last piece of the puzzle slip into place. Tula arrived with Dakar and led them to a vacant office large enough to hold everyone. And slowly his story came out. “My mother was Kindarak’s mate…she was a Horta princess. Of course, he never acknowledged her. The ceremony took place within our village and, as Kindarak pointed out, not universally legal. Still, he visited occasionally when he got a yen to go slumming.” Rollins spit out the last part. “One of our villagers happened on the formula for Angels Gate completely by mistake, but Kindarak was visiting at he time—and took advantage of the opportunity.” Rollins glanced down at his hands knotted in his lap. 229

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“The wheels started turning. I knew Gannett…from before. We were, um, friends. My father blackmailed him for Assyllis using the information I gave him.” He looked shame-faced at Gannett. “I am sorry, he was my father, and promised me great wealth for doing his bidding. He told me that the drug would not hurt anyone; just make them happy, and make their unbearable lives bearable. No one was supposed to die,” he ended on a sob. He looked up and stared at Sherem. “After you kill him I discovered he had no will. And all the credits he promised me,” he slashed his hand in the air, “disappeared with him. But I knew everything. You think the Horta stupid, but we are not. We be as smart as any.” His speech began to break down to Horta regular; something he had successfully hidden before this day. “I knew how to do it; just take her and you do anything to get her back.” He stabbed a pudgy finger at Nadia. “Angels Gate manufactured on Horta land; all I need is Assyllis; all other ingredients found in Horta or stocked piled there. We be smart and got money for village. Not have to work so hard. Be successful entre-pren-eurs. “But little-bit spoil it all,” he said looking at Cat. “It wouldn’t have worked anyway, Rollins, Bran was on his way. He knew we needed assistance. I am very sorry about your father. Sometimes they are impossible to please and not worth the effort. It is not your fault, but his own greed and evilness that caused his demise. Is your mother still alive?” Nadia asked. Zorroc opened his mouth but Cat put a restraining hand on his arm. She had never heard Nadia make a comment about her father, pro or con and Cat feared that Nadia was not simply placating Rollins but actually revealing a truth about her own experience with her father. Zorroc seemed to understand for she felt a tremor move through him. “She is good.” Nadia turned to Sherem. “He has not really done anything wrong, Sher. He simply got lost for a while. It could happen to anyone.” “Misulu…” “Maybe he can be helped; he has always been kind to me—to everyone.” “I would not hurt your mate,” Rollins stated gravely. “Even my father not hurt her.” 230

SHEREM

Sherem ran his hands through his mane in impotent frustration. Her kind heart would be the death of him. “Jorge, take him to lock-up. We will decide his fate when we discern his full culpability in this mess.” Sherem whipped his head around to glare at Nadia at the same moment she opened her mouth. “Do not,” he growled. Nadia closed her mouth and put her hand on his chest. “Do. Not.” Nadia turned and smiled reassuringly at Rollins as he was taken away. “I came across a fine expression recently that I believe describes you with great accuracy; would you like to hear it?” Bran asked his friend happily. “No,” Sherem answered firmly. “Pussy-whipped.” Guffaws of laughter filled Sherem’s mind. “You will pay,” he ground out. “How is that possible?” “Wait until you find your own mate and then we will see.” Sherem could have sworn Bran whimpered.

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Lil Gibson

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Before diving into the overwhelming waters of penning women's fiction, Lil was a singer, cocktail waitress, sales rep and headhunter specializing in Information Technologies. She recruited her IT husband out of North Carolina, relocated him to her home in Nashville and married him a year and three months later. She now lives in Weeki Wachee, Florida with her husband and three cats along with the mermaids and manatees.

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