Shamara (20 page)

Use your powers.
His final words came back to her. He'd known she would face challenges, and he'd urged her to use her abilities.

She was terrified of her powers, and with good reason. Rayna might still be alive, if not for her mistake. She had managed to heal Jarek without major mishap. She'd employed her powers again to escape from his ship on Elysia, although they hadn't worked very well on that attempt. The bottom line was, as dangerous as she knew her powers to be, she only dared use them when there was nothing left to lose.

Jarek would be tortured and executed for certain if he couldn't get away from these bounty hunters. She would have to risk using her powers to help him. But first, she had to get off the ship and find him. Keeping the speaker on, Eirene settled down and waited. She heard the men shuffling around and muttering to each other.

This time she deliberately reached out, tapping into their thoughts and energies, in the hopes they would lead her to Jarek. They were dark, depraved beings, and she wanted to cringe away from them, but she persisted, although she gleaned no usable information.

After a while, their voices faded away, as did their energy patterns. The ship was silent. She did another mental sweep, feeling nothing. They were gone.

She scrambled from her hiding place, determined to leave quickly and follow. But she was stiff from her cramped quarters, and the galley's bright light painfully bombarded her eyes. Squinting, she groped for her satchel.

Ranie chattered anxiously.  Eirene briefly considered leaving the lanrax there, but decided against it. She might not get back to the ship, or the men might return. She made a quick stop in the cockpit to retrieve Ranie's padded knapsack and slipped the protesting lanrax inside.

She bolted off the ship, grateful no one stood on guard. She glanced in all directions, trying to pick up the two men. Too many ships crowded the landing bay, and a good number of beings were milling around. She couldn't lose the men, or she'd never find Jarek. She closed her eyes and stood still, concentrating, reaching. She picked up a lot of energies, much of it degenerate, but she was learning to distinguish individual patterns.

There—the same tainted energy she'd felt on Jarek's ship. She whirled around, her focus honing on two walking men, already halfway across the landing bay. She took off at a full run, zigzagging through the crowd. Ranie squealed in alarm.

Spirit, don't let them get away,
she prayed. She ran until her lungs burned, yet still lagged behind the men. They turned up a ramp, entering a red-and-black ship several pads down. She slowed, gasping for breath, and approached the ship cautiously, Ranie still squealing.

"Hush," she admonished, and the lanrax calmed somewhat.

Eirene stared at the ship the men had entered. She needed a plan. And fast.

*  *  * 

Lani's high heels tapped down the gleaming corridor. She glanced around in satisfaction. The Leors employed abhorrent color schemes in their ships, either orange or red—or in some appalling cases, both. But even such an awful decor looked better when it was properly maintained. Gunnar had assigned Karr and Feron to daily cleanup detail, much to their disgust, and to snickering from the other two crew members.

The regimen wouldn't hurt them in the least, Lani thought. While the Leors were highly disciplined about physical fitness and battle readiness, they were sadly lacking in other areas. For one thing, they were uptight, pompous, and unimaginative. They never enjoyed any amusement activities, as far as she could tell.

She pursed her lips. She was utterly bored. This last part of her vacation wasn't nearly as interesting as she had hoped it would be, with the exception of Gunnar. The only time she had any fun at all was when she verbally sparred with him.

Pausing outside his council chamber, she smoothed her simple Saija silk shift. The Leors kept the temperature on the ship much too high. She understood the reason, having done some extensive research on them since she'd been on board.

Leors descended from a race of beings resulting from a reptilian species crossbreeding with humanoids. They didn't have internal temperature regulators and relied on external heat sources. Their special skin absorbed heat readily, so they wore minimal clothing and kept their environment very warm. Lani found all this fascinating, but it didn't make her any more comfortable.

She'd been forced to abandon her robes and most of her feathers. She now wore her skimpiest clothing, and today, she'd put her hair up, sacrificing fashion in the interest of comfort. After all, she was highly adaptable, much more flexible than these ultraprimitive males. She sounded the panel tone.

"Enter," Gunnar called in his guttural voice.

She opened the entry and strolled in. Gunnar sat at a massive table, with Karr and Marat flanking him. He looked up and scowled. He always did that when he saw her, and it was beginning to annoy her greatly. "You're interrupting an important tactical meeting," he growled. "What do you want?"

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

All three men groaned. "It will have to wait." Gunnar turned back to Karr and Marat.

She had been patient long enough. "It can't wait. I'd like to get started on my plans immediately."

"Her plans." Gunnar sat back, rolling his eyes. "Goddess spare me!"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You might as well hear me out, Commander. Avoidance will not make a problem go away."

"It might if I jettison that problem into outer space."

"That's very childish, Commander. I expected better from you."

She knew he'd rise to her challenge. His eyes narrowing, he snapped his fingers. Karr and Marat rose stiffly, bowing slightly toward him. They departed with backward glances and snorts of disgust. "Sit," Gunnar rumbled.

Lani took the chair to his right, and he swiveled toward her. Leors wore leggings and boots when they dealt with the more conservative races of the quadrant. But on their planets and their ships, they wore virtually nothing, just loincloths. With his magnificent physique, Gunnar certainly didn't need clothing to give him presence.

He filled a chair better than any man she'd ever seen. He leaned back slightly, giving the appearance of being relaxed, but the ripple of muscles in his bare chest and bulging biceps indicated he was alert, ready to take action at a moment's notice.

He sat with his feet planted solidly on the floor and his legs spread in a masculine stance that sent Lani’s heart into freefall. His hairless, supple skin heightened the effect, emphasizing his massive, muscular thighs—and the massive bulge beneath the loincloth.
Oh, my.
It was way too hot in here. She snapped open her feathered fan and fluttered it near her flushed face.

"What did you come to carp about this time, woman?"

She forced her attention back to Gunnar's hostile black eyes. He might have a body that would affect even the most jaded courtesan, but he needed to work on the attitude—and the manners.

"I hate to be rude, but this leg of my vacation has been very disappointing. Quite boring, I'm sorry to say. I haven't had anyone to talk to, and there's been absolutely no adventure, not even a small skirmish. "

He stared at her in disbelief. "You expect to be amused? Perhaps you would like me to attack another ship so you can have some excitement?"

"Certainly not. But if you just happened to cross paths with an enemy, or wished to negotiate a trade deal, for a new bride, perhaps, that would be interesting."

"I am not looking for another bride," he growled. "I do not wish to experience another female's treachery. I am concerned only with protecting Leor territories and interests, not entertaining a foolish woman dressed like a bird. How many times must I remind you that you are a hostage?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "A mere formality, in order for you to save face. You know Celie wouldn't lie to you. And while it's been somewhat interesting to be a hostage, I need to get back to work. I don't have unlimited funds, you know."

"A mere formality? You have much to learn about Leor ways, woman. You will not dictate your release, or anything else, to me."

He was being thickheaded and unreasonable, as usual. "Listen, Mister Cave Dweller, you can't expect me to stay here under these dull conditions. Plus I have responsibilities, and a job to return to."

"You
have a job?" he sneered. "I cannot imagine you possessing any useful skills. Can you pilot a ship, or defeat an opponent in combat, or replicate weapons? Can you plan tactical maneuvers, or heal wounded warriors?"

Lani was oddly stung by his scorn, although she knew the Leors valued only those skills relating directly to their way of life. Her research on them had been most revealing. For the most part, developing trade routes, expanding their territories, and battling fiercely to protect their interests comprised their entire existence.

They placed a high value on honor and justice, something she admired. But, oh, they were stubborn, insensitive brutes—at least the men were. She hadn't met any Leor women, so wasn't prepared to pass judgment on them.

"No, I can't do those things," she replied. "But what I do is very important."

"And what is that?"

She paused, not at all certain how he'd take the answer. Oddly enough, in addition to admiring honor and bravery, the Leors also valued chastity. As a rule, they didn't engage in sexual activities until they were mated. They looked upon abstinence as a discipline, and believed channeling their sexual energy into their physical training made them better warriors.

She happened to disagree, but questioned the wisdom of telling Gunnar she was a courtesan. Not that she was ashamed of what she did. She provided a vital service, and thoroughly enjoyed herself in the process, but Gunnar was difficult enough as it was. "You might say I'm in the entertainment field."

He mulled this over, his forehead furrowing. "Entertainment? Dancing? Singing?"

She couldn't sing an on-pitch note, not even in a crystal echo chamber. And the erotic Elysian scarf dances she liked to perform would shock this staid Leor commander to his puritanical core.

"Among other things," she hedged. "But as I said, Commander. It's been interesting, and I've learned a lot, but I want you to release me. I need to return to my obligations."

"No."

The man epitomized the word "obtuse." Lani placed her hands on her hips. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

But it appeared she no longer had his attention. He was looking at her head. "You are not wearing your hair down."

She'd been in the chamber a quarter hour and he was just noticing that fact? "This ship is too hot for me to keep it down. I've already explained to you that the high temperature you maintain is most uncomfortable for me. I've even had to strip to my barest clothing."

"So you have." His gaze shifted downward to her chest.

His expression remained impassive, but Lani had been dealing with various males too long to be fooled. The slight tic in his jaw line told her he wasn't unaffected by her breasts, clearly outlined through the thin silk. Good. There was nothing wrong with the Leor libido, despite his people's foolish abstinence from sex.

She thrust her chest forward. Let him look. Maybe it would heat his blood, and he'd turn down the cursed temperature. Or, at the very least, a blast of desire might shake him up a little.

A low growl rumbled in his throat, and his eyes snapped back up. "You are a hostage. You do not give orders, and you will remain in my custody until I am certain of Celie Cameron's innocence."

Oh! He was insufferable. "Then you had better find something to keep me entertained, Commander, because I won't stay here with nothing to do. And I expect financial compensation for the income I'm losing."

His eyes turned icy, and he leaned forward, slowly, menacing. "Woman, you have done nothing but complain since you have been on board. You say the ship is dirty, the food is bad—"

"I offered to replicate nutritious meals for you and your men."

"You gave us
green
things—vegetables!"

"You eat too much meat. It's not good for you."

He slapped his hand on the table, the sound reverberating in the chamber. "The ship is too hot, we have no manners, you want to be released, and now you want to be entertained. Perhaps some time in the brig will help you learn silence."

"Only a coward would put a woman in the brig," she retorted, thoroughly irritated. "If you can't handle me any other way, so be it. But only after Karr and Feron clean it."

He grabbed the edge of the table, intense frustration darkening his face. "What is it you want from me? I have done everything in my power to quiet your constant complaining. The ship has been scoured, the temperature settings reduced, vegetables added to the menu, my men's language censored. What more can be done to silence you, except for the brig?"

Lani leaned back in her chair. "If you won't release me, then you can talk to me."

Total shock and incredulity blazed onto Gunnar's face.
"Talk? To you?"

She smiled brightly. "Yes. We'll chat every day."

He stood abruptly, his chair banging the wall. "Marat! Get in here. Put this female in the brig.
Now!
"

*  *  * 

The weapons dealer was a seven-foot Jaccian with four tentacles, no eyelids, and a revolting odor. Dealing with it was a harrowing experience. Perhaps calling it a "he" would be more appropriate, since the creature radiated definite lascivious inclinations. Ranie hated him on sight, snarling and lunging, until Eirene was forced to secure the flap of the knapsack.

"Me help you, lady?" the Jaccian shrilled in a singsong voice, leering at Eirene and trying to peer down the front of her robe.

She edged away, drawing the fabric protectively around her. "I wish to purchase a stun gun."

"Ah! You have enemy? Me sell you excellent disrupter. Fry enemy's brain, then he die—slow."

He stared at her breasts, his lust increasing exponentially. Slime began oozing from the barbs in his tentacles, intensifying his horrible smell. From inside the knapsack, Ranie chattered in protest. Covering   her nose, Eirene was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer, purchase a disrupter, and put him out of commission permanently.