She stripped off her gray uniform, peeling away its tight spandex grip and stood nude before the long wall mirror. The only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her unusual eyes. Cat-like with a golden hue, they mesmerized most men. When her boss needed her to appear human, she wore contact lenses to hide the hint of her lineage. She traced her breast with a tender touch, her mind wandering to Alonwei. He was a large man, formidable in appearance. The thought of getting closer to him excited her.
Her nipples awakened when she imagined what the rebellious leader might look like naked. She ran the pad of her thumb over one hard, pink nub and frowned. “He’s as good as dead with an attitude like that.” Her fingers swept lower, brushing the thin patch of curly hairs above her pussy. She stared at herself, her eyes,
the
pupils narrowing to vertical slits. Temperature-controlled air spilled from the vent, chilling her. Goose bumps prickled her skin.
Sauntering away from her reflection, she went into the bathing room to key in the program for her lavender scented shower. A perk of her rank was the pink flashing holograms of Em-4’s first planet’s flower scenery. She stepped inside the stall, deciding not to bring the vibrator this time.
Seating herself on the side bench, she leaned back, closed her eyes and tried to relax.
Alga is the perfect place to start.
Far enough away from Taraf and Irnia, so as not to draw suspicion and peaceful.
Holy Mother knows I could use some peace right now.
She reached for the soap and a sponge-cloth, scrubbed her body clean and sighed when the face of her last hit flashed through her memory.
He was a good-looking general from Em-6.
Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin.
Melia clucked her tongue and shook her head. “What a fool he was.” He’d fallen fast for her charms and found himself stuck like a Mercer hybrid hog in the computer-controlled slaughter room. His eyes had widened. Determined, he’d slipped his hand down the back of her pants just before his last gurgling breath escaped his parted lips. His kisses were not as good as she’d hoped.
Standing, Melia forced the memory from her mind. She stared at the pink images of meadows and trees, flowers growing wild along hills. “There’s paradise,” she grumbled. “And here I am hovering near another of Kyleena’s outskirt planets, plotting to kill someone who wants more than he needs.” Her favorite hologram flashed before her, a brook beset on both sides by high grass and bulbous flowers. “I should be there.”
Fingers found her cleft and teased from side to side. It was not an erotic image, but the idea turned her on nonetheless. Melia’s one desire was to find the peace in those mirages, the emptiness and grace of nature that Kyleena and its massive corporations that backed it with dirty money and trade agreements were so anxious to plunder and rape.
She massaged her clit, awakening it from its soft hood. The flesh within hardened and swelled to meet her finger’s coaxing. She reached with her other hand and twisted first one nipple and then the next until her body quivered. Faster and faster she rubbed, ingraining the feel of touch over her most sensitive part. She wished she could find a man who knew how to please her, one who could be both rough and gentle,
one
she was not assigned to kill.
She held her breath and bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. Her body quaked. The orgasm began slowly, a teasing tickle just beyond reach. She concentrated on keeping up the rhythm, afraid she’d miss the certain spot that flared her passion and lose the moment. Her pussy contracted once.
Hard.
She massaged and whimpered.
Enrue Alonwei’s face invaded her mind, filling her, startling her and bringing her shivering body to the height of release. She cried out in a hoarse voice and plunged two fingers deep within her body. As she stood there, hunched over, her fingers being crushed by her body’s longing, Melia realized she desired something other than the tranquility of Em-4’s first planet.
“Shiemer,” she whispered. “I’ll toy with you before you die.”
Chapter Three
Leaving Irnia
Enrue set his glass atop the lacquered table and peered out over Leuj’s ruined gardens. The man whose city he’d taken over was an odd mix of eccentricity, selfishness and pomp. He only wished he could have seen Oemir Irnia’s body lain out. The notion that the cocky young man might still be alive angered Enrue. He pushed his plate away. Food no longer pleased him as it used to. In fact, he’d lost weight since Sima’s death.
“Sima,” he said, hoping her spirit would acknowledge him. “Why do you trouble me? Pass on to the next realm. This life was not meant for you.” He stood and walked around the large meeting table to stare through the replacement glass overlooking the gardens. Another Unangi statue lay across the grounds, knocked down when Enrue’s fleet attacked. This one was female,
its
black shape alluring and curved in all the right womanly ways.
“Deitre?”
Enrue turned to regard his silver-haired retainer. “Have that statue removed from the gardens, cleaned and set next to the other one. They may possess some innate value to the Unangi people. Perhaps I can use them as a bargaining tool.”
His retainer squinted above spectacles at the goddess statue and nodded. “Your will is mine, my Shiemir.” He pressed the com at his desk and muttered out the request to the groundskeepers.
Enrue nodded his approval, adjusted his sleeves, pulling them back down to cover his wrists and decided it was a good moment to go for a stroll through the ruins outside. He sidestepped the painters and the men repairing a large hole in the wall outside the office and crossed into what must have been a fine parlor at one time. The furniture had been removed and the floor bore scars from the attack, but the marbled columns stood to support the high ceiling, gleaming and strong as ever.
Shaking his head at his old rival’s excess, Enrue left the palace and followed the stone path into the nearly barren gardens. Weeds vined across the crumbled brick planters. Trees suffered blackened fire scars, but some sported new leaves, and one in particular had flowers clinging to its delicate branches, white flowers that fluttered their petals in the slight breeze.
He knelt to right an overturned bench and seated himself there. The groundskeepers were en route, a band of seven men with a small hovercraft to raise the statue and place it on a loader ship. As he watched the men work, Enrue relaxed. It was nice not to think of the massive war soon to be underway. He pushed aside his plans to meet with his allies later that evening and took a moment to breathe in the clean air.
“Forgive me, Shiemir.” Yet another retainer had appeared from the palace, a data sharer in his hand. “I have the figures on Southern Irnia for you.”
“Ah, yes.” Glancing over the young man dressed in the standard blue uniform, Enrue took the sharer from his aide and sifted through the tallies. Seventy-three closed brothels, nine slaver houses, and three black market body banks. “That’s all of them?”
His retainer nodded.
Enrue turned off the sharer and set it beside him. Watching the groundskeepers raise the black goddess, he frowned, his mind returning to the emissary the Empire had attempted to send. He doubted the Cossia would give up easily. She had her orders. Rubbing his chin, he wondered if he ought to capture her and send word to the Empire, demanding a higher ranked official attend him.
A flower drifted across his field of vision, dancing circles in the air until it came to rest on his lap. He grasped the delicate bloom and drew it to his face to breathe in its perfume. Glancing at his retainer he asked, “Is there something more?”
“Yes, my Shiemir.
The Cossia from Kyleena.
Her ship has changed course, and we estimate it will arrive in Alga by nightfall.” The retainer’s brow crinkled with worry.
“Good, good.” Enrue waved his retainer away. “Send an envoy of my police to meet with her. I want the Cossia brought to my palace in Taraf.” He clutched the data sharer and rose. “No harm will come to her. Be sure the officers know my will.”
“Yes, my Shiemir.”
* * * *
The boardroom in the Irnian palace had survived well enough to still be useful. Only one wall bore a jagged crack as a result of the bombings. Enrue sat at the head of the long, black table with his three most trusted allies. There was a hint of danger in the meeting, but the Empire had yet to realize Enrue’s intent. Like any overgrown government, they felt safe in their rule, secure due to their vastness. The Empire considered itself untouchable.
He studied his allies, Jorin from Em-3, a balding, elderly man with a quick retort always at the ready. Then there was O’ka, the Empress of Em-19. If not for her dark-nylenth ancestry, Enrue might have found her attractive. She was stunning, but prone to acts of violence. She’d killed her last two mates, and though she hinted she welcomed the idea of him as her lover, he had no desire to become her third victim.
Women don’t interest me any longer. My urges passed with my youth.
The representative from the Sovra system, his third ally, continued to scratch notes across his arcane papers.
A wonder they manage space travel.
In Sovra, people aged slowly and the man scrawling out his notes appeared to be no more than a teen. But Enrue knew better. Hyath was older than him by thirty years. His youthful face gave off
an innocence
worthy enough to fool most high-ranking officials in Kyleena. He was an excellent spy.
“My friends,” Enrue began. “Ours will be a new light in the universe, an alliance of fellows united for peace and the fair treatment of all the races. This exploitation of newly colonized planets and their people is just like that of Earth so long ago. It’s wrong.”
O’ka raised one eyebrow and half-grinned at him, her expression alluring. Pheromones drifted through the temperature-controlled air. “We are all in agreement. My armies will take this location as base to launch an attack when the Empire comes.”
“They will come sooner than we think,” Jorin interjected. He ran a palm across his sweaty brow, his sparkling eyes narrowing. “And when they do, my fighters will attack from the rear.”
“Right they will.” Hyath glanced up for a brief moment and set back to work.
Enrue stared at O’ka, her full lips and her one revealed fang. She reminded him of a snake from the Unangi jungle, waiting to strike. “Then all is settled for now. We should not meet like this again. It’s too risky. Once the Empire catches wind of my plot, they will want me and anyone allied with me assassinated.” He stood and smoothed his belt. “I’m going back to Taraf for now.
To keep you abreast of my plans, be warned that Kyleena has sent a Cossia to meet with me.
The ship should have arrived in Alga by now.”
“A Cossia?”
Hyath set down his pen. He shook his head. “You be careful, Enrue. It might be a trick.”
“Maybe so.”
He strode around O’ka’s seat, avoiding her intoxicating scent. “I’ve sent my police to fetch the messenger.”
“Mm, a wise move,” Jorin piped up. “Send the Cossia on to me for questioning if you like. I have ways to make anyone speak.”
O’ka stood and turned, feathers rustling along the edge of her flowing robes. The fabric clung to her shapely figure, accentuating her breasts without showing any cleavage. Enrue stared at her chest and caught himself.
“Just kill the Kyleena scum,” she whispered. “These underlings are not worth toying with. Kill the messenger and send the body back in pieces. Our message will be clear.”
Enrue shook his head, more to rid it of O’ka’s natural perfume, than to deny her suggestion. He sidestepped toward the door. “I will hold her in a cell for a time, maybe question her if need be. I’m certain her mission is standard. She said she’d been sent with a proposition.”
“Be careful,” Hyath repeated.
“I will protect you, if you like,” O’ka said in a sultry tone.
“I can look after myself.” He bowed to each ally and took his leave. Outside the meeting room, he heard the rain beating against the roof. Irnia’s weather often became fitful, not like the placid city of Taraf. Enrue hurried through the halls, tired of his old rival’s palace. He entered the room he’d been staying in, gathered up the few possessions he kept on his person, and made ready to leave. Glancing at the enormous chamber with its tiled mural and vast windows, he hoped he’d never have to return here. He considered Leuj’s palace a direct reflection of the decadence and evil of the southern side of the city, an evil he’d successfully wiped clean.