down. Normally, she could give as good as she got in a verbal exchange with Rodan, but something had changed--
"Shit," he muttered, remembering his promise.
"What?" said Cat.
"Nothing," Trag replied. "I'll be back in a minute."
Approaching Micayla, Trag did his best to ignore Rodan's drunken suggestions
and took the seat that Lerotan had just vacated. "How's it going?" he asked her. "I saw Leroy getting you a drink. You feeling okay?"
She nodded. "I'm fine," she replied, but Trag saw her eyes dart toward Rodan.
"Listen," he said quietly, "if he's bothering you, why don't you come over here and sit with me?" She looked uncomfortable at the suggestion, so he added, "I know we'll probably talk your ear off, but it's got to be better than listening to Rodan."
"Anything's better than that," she agreed.
"Well, you don't have to make it sound like such a chore," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean it that way."
"Sure you didn't." Getting to his feet, he held out his hand. "Come on, Mick, let's go."
She looked up at him with something in her eyes Trag hadn't seen before. The rest of her hadn't changed--though she was wearing different clothes. Someone--Jack, he suspected--had provided her with shorts and a tank top in a soft peach color that might have been less revealing than what she'd worn running, but it made her seem more
feminine somehow. She looked stronger in her Orleon uniform--as though able to draw strength from its tailored fabric and insignia that denoted her rank--but now she struck him as vulnerable and a little lost, as though she'd given up part of her identity along with her job.
Micayla stood without the aid of the hand he'd offered, which made Trag feel like someone had taken a cheese grater to his nerves. She was a hard woman to rescue. Trag's previous experiences with damsels in distress had been much more rewarding. It wasn't that she was being deliberately insulting; she just didn't seem to understand how to act when rescued--like she'd never learned the rules of the game.
"Look, you asked me not to leave you alone with him, remember?" Trag
prompted. "That's all I'm doing."
"I know," she said. "It's just that--well, Leroy told me something just now that has me a little... off balance."
He might have been irritated before, but suddenly he felt murderous--though it
wasn't Micayla he wanted to kill. His eyes shot daggers at Lerotan's back. "What's he been telling you?" he demanded.
"Something I wish I'd known a long time ago," she replied.
Whatever it was, it hadn't made her angry; she seemed more perplexed than
anything. But her befuddled expression did nothing to diminish her beauty; in fact, it enhanced it. Her eyes were wide and guileless; her face seemed softer, less like a tough cookie able to hold her own with anyone and more like a lost child. Something snapped inside him and it was all Trag could do to keep from pulling her into his arms.
"It's nothing bad," she went on, "just something that explains a lot of things. I
need some time to process it."
"Process it?" Trag echoed. "I can't imagine Leroy ever saying anything that profound."
"But he did," she replied. "I just need some time..." Her voice trailed off as her brow furrowed. She was thinking hard about something--but Trag had no idea what it could be.
"Well, just come over here with me," he urged. "You can sit and think and not say a thing if you don't want to--but at least you'll be away from Rodan."
She nodded and Trag snagged her chair and carried it over to where the others
were engaged in lively conversation. He was glad for the excuse to do something other than follow his strongest inclination, which was to touch her in some way--an arm around her shoulders or a hand on the small of her back; something to comfort her and let her know she wasn't alone--but she probably wouldn't have liked that. She wasn't his mate, after all; she would see it as being possessive or encroaching rather than reassuring. Trag wished she'd get woozy again so he could have an excuse to pick her up and carry her.
As they approached the others, Kyra caught his eye and beamed at him, nearly
taking his breath away--something she'd always been able to do to him. With a smile pasted on his lips, he gestured for Micayla to take his seat next to Cat while he sat on her right, turning the chair sideways to keep her in his line of sight.
Mick was nervous about something. She sat next to Cat--who was probably the
nicest guy in the bunch, not to mention the wittiest--as if he was the enemy. Granted, he was a stranger to her and the scar on his cheek made him look a little intimidating, but there was something else going on there, something that hadn't been evident earlier. What had Lerotan said to her?
"Hey, Micayla," Jack began as Micayla took her seat. "Tell me more about this guy Grekkor. I've never heard of him."
"Windura actually knows more about him," Micayla replied. "I'd never seen him or heard of him except for that one time."
"Hmm, and he said his wife had a Zetithian lover--is that right?"
Micayla nodded. "He said he killed him and then she went back to Zetith to find another one."
The men all smiled smugly, but Jack didn't seem to notice. "That's not too
surprising," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "If I'd lost Cat and I knew there was a whole planet full of these guys somewhere, I'm pretty sure I would have tried to get there myself. Wonder whatever happened to her. Did he say?"
Micayla shrugged. "No--though I suppose it's possible she was on Zetith when the asteroid hit and was killed along with the rest."
"Seems like he would have gloated about that a bit, doncha think?" Jack mused.
Not giving Micayla time to respond, she went on, "Of course, it wasn't as if you had a lengthy conversation with him--and he might not actually know what happened to her, but--"
The topic must have caught Windura's attention, for she left off playing with the kids and headed back to the table with Lerotan following right behind her. "If I'd been her, I'd have gotten as far away from that creep as I could," she said firmly. "I don't know a whole lot about him, but the rumors are pretty scary. He's not the kind of man you'd want to cross."
"I think we can all agree on that," Jack said. "I just wish we knew more about him--like how to find him. If we could get rid of Grekkor, call off the Nedwuts, and get the word out that it was safe, more Zetithians might turn up."
"Grekkor would be a hard man to get to," Windura said. "We barely got off that station alive--and I wouldn't have if I'd been alone. Micayla's the only reason we escaped."
"And the fact that you did get away from him and lived to tell about it is very fortunate," Cat said with a warm smile at Micayla. "This could mean a lot for those of us who are left."
"Yes, but we're wanted now," Micayla said soberly. "We didn't kill that Norludian, but if he says we did, no one would dare contradict him--or believe us."
"Norludian?" Jack echoed. "Obviously I need to hear more!"
Micayla remained silent while Windura related the entire episode, including the
part about finding Trag in the hooker's database.
"Trag, what have I told you about that?" Jack said accusingly. "You need to stay away from those places from now on. You might catch something fatal." Softening her tone, she added, "Still, their data would be very useful. It might help us find more of you."
"Maybe," Windura admitted. "But it's mostly just faces and notes about how the men behave in the brothels--what they like or don't like, whether they tend to be violent or not--that sort of thing. They put in the names and species if they know them--and their location--but most guys don't give out a lot of information. Trag was the only Zetithian in the files."
"True," Jack admitted. "But it'd be nice if we could use it to find out where Grekkor is. Don't suppose you noticed him in there, did you?"
"No, but I wasn't looking for him either."
"Any chance you could hack into it and find out?"
"They've got it locked down pretty tight, but I was given a password." Windura paused as Jack looked at her expectantly. "I'm pretty sure I could get in."
Jack grinned. "That's just what I wanted to hear."
***
Lerotan's revelation had been distracting enough, but the longer she sat with the group, the more something else became clear to her--something even more significant. Cat's nearness wasn't bothering her anymore, nor had the smile he'd given her. Experimentally, she took a peek at Leo, noting that nothing registered, nor did she feel any reaction when she took a good, long look at Tychar.
The implication was disconcerting, to say the least. Pleading fatigue, Micayla
went off to bed feeling more confused than ever. She'd now met four of the six surviving male Zetithians, and, as luck would have it, the only one who made her want to hiss and bite was Trag.
Chapter 12
Micayla's abrupt departure didn't arouse anyone's curiosity but Trag's--or so he
thought. He made it appear to be casual and unplanned, but Cat lingered briefly after Jack had gone to put their three sons to bed, taking Trag aside with a meaningful nod. "You need to purr," he said.
"Purr?" Trag echoed. "What for?"
"To entice Micayla," Cat replied.
Trag might have expected something like that from Jack, but coming from Cat, it
took him by surprise. "Look, Cat," he said evenly. "I know she's pretty and all, but when a woman hisses at you on sight, I don't think enticement is what she has in mind."
"You might be surprised," said Cat. "She is a potential mate."
"So what?" Trag argued. "They're all potential mates." He'd certainly fucked enough of them to know that by now. He could have had his choice of a lot of women--
women who claimed to worship the ground he walked on and might even have loved
him--but he couldn't mate with someone he didn't love in return. It just seemed wrong.
"But Micayla's reaction to you means she is interested."
Trag's jaw dropped. "What? I've never heard that."
"You were just a boy when you left Zetith," Cat reminded him. "Mating rituals were not high on your list of priorities then."
"But someone should have told me about it--Ty, or my uncle, or somebody! I've never heard of such a thing!"
Cat shrugged. "Well, now you know."
"So, you're saying it's a good thing when a Zetithian girl hisses at you?"
"I am saying that there is a strong potential there. It is now up to you to entice her."
Trag rolled his eyes. "What if I don't want to?"
"Enticement is your choice," Cat replied. "If you do not want her, then do not purr."
"Simple as that, huh?"
"Simple as that." Cat peered at his friend closely. "But tell me, Trag, why would you not want her? She is beautiful, strong, intelligent--and Zetithian."
"Yeah, she's all that," Trag admitted, "but I'm just not sure she's the girl for me."
"She is too young, perhaps?" Cat suggested.
"No, it's not that," Trag began slowly. He knew the reason; it was because she wasn't Kyra--didn't act like her or even look like her. They were as different as two women could be; Kyra was sweet and warm, whereas Micayla was more like frozen
steel--though since they'd made their pact she was decidedly less icy. Still, the only thing she and Kyra had in common was their long dark hair. "It's hard to explain."
"But you have searched for a Zetithian woman, have you not?" Cat inquired.
"Now that you have found one, you realize that they are far more difficult to entice than human females. You know this from your experience with--"
"My brother's mate!" Trag snapped. "Don't go there, Cat."
"It was very kind of Kyra to ease your suffering," Cat said wisely. "But not every human female would have done the same, and a Zetithian woman would never--"
"Don't I know it!" Trag exclaimed. "Just--" He paused, letting out a long, rueful sigh. "Let's leave it be, okay? I'm already regretting a lot of things I've done in my life, and badgering Kyra to fuck me is the one that really stands out." Trag fought the urge to tear his hair out in frustration. The taste of Kyra was still on his lips, and whenever he slid into a woman, it was her face he saw. He could still feel her--like hot, sweet love wrapped around his cock. Trag had never felt the same way with any other woman, and God knows he'd tried to recapture it, but now that Micayla had tumbled onto Lerotan's ship, he had no desire to try again. If he enticed Micayla and mated with her, it would be for life, and he didn't want to spend the rest of his life wishing his mate was someone else. No, the pact they'd made not to become lovers was the best idea yet. He would stick to it.
***
giving the women a chance to become better acquainted. In a spacious divan, Windura sat at an ornately carved stone desk near a window that looked out toward the distant mountains while the other women lounged on two large, comfortable sofas. The breeze blowing in through the open windows carried the scent of flowers and ripening fruit, but Windura didn't seem to notice, nor did she appear to be relaxed by it. Using Kyra's computer, she was doing her best to get into the hookers' network, but thus far, she hadn't had any luck.
"They've changed the password," she grumbled.
"Can you still hack into it?" Jack asked.
"I don't know," Windura replied. "But I can try."
Jack, Tisana, and Kyra went on to trade anecdotes about their children while
Micayla sat trying to figure out a way to bring up the subject of female Zetithian sexuality without giving Jack the wrong idea. She had just about decided to blurt out a question when Veluka was ushered into the room by Dragus, effectively halting the flow of conversation.
Micayla ignored Dragus and focused her gaze on Veluka. She'd known he was
coming and that Tisana considered him untrustworthy, but she'd never met a Nerik before and, having heard a little bit about them, wasn't sure she wanted to. He was tall and broad-shouldered and covered with shiny black scales, but his eyes were his most