ALIEN REDEMPTION

Clans of Kalquor Book 6

By

Tracy St. John

© copyright October 2012, Tracy St. John

Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright September 2012

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s

imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

events is merely coincidence.

Kindle Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

To Bruce, who always makes sure I get it right

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Coming Soon

Prologue

The Kalquorian Empire was and still is a civilization of great importance to the Galactic Council of Planets. The fierce but intelligent species has been at the forefront of technological, medical, and scientific breakthroughs for millennia. Their military might has never been in question; even their ancient enemy, the opportunistic race of Tragooms, hesitates to attack a Kalquorian force half its size.

However, Kalquor’s survival is in jeopardy. The force that threatened this mighty race was not one that wielded weaponry. It could not even be seen with the naked eye. It was a virus.

Centuries ago, this virus struck the home world of Kalquor. It wiped out a substantial number of its people, particularly the females. Symptoms included massive bleeding of the body’s major organs, along with those of the female reproductive tract. Damaging the x-chromosome of the Kalquorians, the virus’ effects went beyond death. The majority of women not killed outright were rendered infertile. Daughters born to those who could bear children were not guaranteed the ability to do the same. The virus altered the very DNA of the entire race.

In an effort to keep their race from going extinct and prevent fighting amongst the men, family groups called clans were formed. Each clan was made up of one female known as the Matara (childbearer) and representatives of each of the three breeds of male: the Dramok (leader), Imdiko (caregiver), and Nobek (protector).

Despite their efforts, the population continued to decline. So few children were born that extinction was thought by many to be inevitable. Despite all their medical expertise and attempts to find compatible species to mate with, the Kalquorian culture seemed destined to disappear.

A little over a decade ago, a scout ship from a small, isolated planet no one knew of flew into the Galactic Council of Planets’ space. These newcomers were searching for a new planet to house the overflow of their ever-growing population. They called their home planet Earth. It was immediately remarked upon how incredibly similar they were to Kalquorians. The doomed race took note at once, and hope was restored. It was theorized that perhaps the Earthers were the fabled Lost Tribe of Kalquor’s ancient ancestors.

Earth, however, was not as enthralled with their potential distant cousins. Ruled by a government based on fanatical religious beliefs, Earthers were taught they were God’s Chosen, made in his wondrous image. They looked upon Kalquor with hostility and outrage when the beleaguered inhabitants of that empire suggested compatibility testing for purposes of interbreeding.

The leaders of the Kalquorian Empire, feeling they had no other recourse, decided the time had come to seduce Earther females and convince them to come to Kalquor. Women on Earth were treated as lesser creatures and second-class citizens by their government and religion. Kalquorians, with their near-worship of women, hoped they could entice these lifebringers to join their clans. And if the women would not be seduced, Kalquor was no longer above the distasteful necessity of abducting them outright.

Almost 2000 Earther women went to Kalquor, putting the Empire and Earth at each others’ throats. Then the unthinkable happened: an Earther woman joined the aliens’ ruling clan, making her Kalquor’s empress. Earth immediately declared war.

The fighting was horrific, with Earth’s greater numbers slowly overwhelming Kalquor’s more advanced technology. With their already dwindling numbers reaching crisis stage, the Empire was desperate to find a way to win the war and secure their future. They staged an invasion of Earth itself. Earth’s answer was to set off nuclear explosions beneath its own major cities, devastating the population and dooming the planet.

Most of the survivors have been rescued by Kalquor. The Earth females have been given the option of living on colonies with their own kind, hopefully to salvage their species; or they can live on Kalquor and join clans in order to continue the alien culture. Many, still terrified of their recent enemy, opt to remain with their native species. Others, traumatized by their experiences under Earth’s tyranny, have dared to start anew with the Kalquorians. There are still too few Mataras to guarantee Kalquor’s survival, and they are held by most of the alien men in the highest regard.

But not all Kalquorians are happy to have the Earthers among them. Some are determined to see Kalquor go extinct rather than mix the species. And still others nurse emotional wounds from the war, wounds that still bleed and demand that their former enemy bleed in return.

Bleed and die…

Chapter 1

Rachel’s vision was filled with the pleasing image of Dr. Conyod as he leaned close to her. He was a complicated man and the number of expressions his face held at once bore that out: confidence, pleading, hopefulness, patience, and determination.

His words, spoken in her language of English, were accented but pronounced perfectly. “You can do it, Ray-Ray. Just one word. Say ‘hello.’”

How she wanted to say that one simple yet impossible word for Conyod. If she could get past the clot of terror in her throat, just enough to squeak out that damnable ‘hello’, his blue-purple, cat-slitted eyes would light up. She’d be rewarded with a rare smile that made his rugged, chiseled features go from merely attractive to heart-stopping handsome. The tension in his jaw would ease. He might even laugh; a great prize for accomplishing the long-awaited goal.

Boy, she had it bad for her psychologist. What had started as a comical schoolgirl crush on the Kalquorian Imdiko had erupted into an almost obsessive love. Rachel Hicks was in her early thirties, too old to swoon over her heroes, too battered by experience to believe in fairy tale romance. Yet hearing his step as he entered her hospital room never failed to make her pulse quicken. As unrequited love went, this was grade-A passion.

That Rachel couldn’t give Conyod what they both wanted so much tore her up inside. And not just because she’d fallen for the man coaxing her to speak. Not being able to talk when a physical disability no longer existed was a source of shame. Once upon a time, she’d been a strong, confident woman. A force to be reckoned with. Hell, she’d dared to take on Earth’s fanatical regime. Okay, maybe not the whole regime, but she had fought her way into a women’s prison with the group she’d led. They'd been determined to make the tyrannized general population see the atrocities that were going on there. To make them get up off their frightened, complacent asses and rise up against a government that employed torture and execution to keep its citizens in line.

To the bunch of idealistic twenty-somethings she led, it had seemed like a good plan at the time. But Rachel had only been a courier in real life, with no military training. Heck, she hadn’t even been a Girl Scout. Though her group had taken over the prison and held it for almost a whole day, in the end she’d been the only one left alive.

The broadcasts they’d sent out had shown vids of the infected wounds never treated on those still living, of the endless scars and bent limbs of badly healed breaks, and of bodies stacked like cordwood in the morgue. Most horrific of all, they’d shown the endless lines of graves marked only by the prisoners’ numbers and not their names. Those vids had never gone out. All transmissions and communications had been blocked by a government well versed in utter control. The revolution Rachel had dreamed of since she was a child did not come to pass.

The whole thing had been pointless.

Even if she’d known in advance her strike against the prison would fail, Rachel might have gone for it anyway. To her warrior soul, raising a fist against an insurmountable obstacle was better than slinking through life like a beaten dog. In hindsight, she would have changed just one thing. She wouldn’t have chanced the lives of so many others. Like her Marcus.

She swallowed hard, trying to get the lump clogging her throat down so she could give Conyod that stupid word that wouldn’t come. Her fists twisted in her lap, wrinkling the soft white hospital gown that showed so brilliantly against her mahogany skin. None of her remaining scars showed when she wore the simple, sleeveless sheath. Almost all the marks of her torture were gone, thanks to a brilliant team of surgeons who’d erased them. It was too bad Conyod couldn’t wield a scalpel that would excise the scars from her soul as easily.

Rachel looked into his grape-hued eyes, trying to soak in the strength he projected towards her. His wavy, black hair tumbled forward as he leaned in, close enough that she could have stolen a kiss if she’d wanted.

Well, she wanted, all right. But it would hardly be proper, and Conyod would no doubt be horrified if she dared. That he had oceans of compassion, she did not doubt. But sympathy and a drive to heal the wounded didn’t translate into lust for a broken down Earther who couldn’t even say ‘hello’.

He tossed his waist-length waves back with a quick jerk of his head. “Relax, Ray-Ray,” he coached her. “The more tense you get, the harder it is. Calm yourself and try.”

His hands moved to her shoulders, and Rachel wallowed in their warmth as he kneaded the stiff muscles. Heaven and earth, she loved it when he touched her. His hands were square and solid with strength. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensation, though it was surely a sin to shut Conyod’s face out. Made herself take a couple of deep breaths. Opened her eyes to his slight encouraging smile and opened her mouth.

The word was right there, flashing neon-bright in her head. It traveled down, moving towards her mouth. Coming, coming, almost there. Then it ran into the roadblock of knotted tightness that refused to budge. It was right there, and she couldn’t get it out! Tears of frustration spilled down her cheeks.

Conyod stopped rubbing her shoulders to cup his palms around her heart-shaped face. His thumbs gently erased the wetness from her skin. “Hush, sweet girl. It was a good try. Take a moment and breathe.”

Still only infinite patience and kindness on his face. No disgust. No disappointment. No wonder she had the hots for Conyod. Rachel smiled a trembling apology for yet another failure on her part.

He smiled back, and her breath caught. Damn the man, he was just too handsome when he did that. As he sat back in the big seating cushion opposite hers to make notes on his handheld computer, Rachel had the opportunity to look him over. And yes sir, she took every opportunity offered when it came to eyeballing the delightful topography of Imdiko Conyod.

The alien was remarkably similar to her own species. Kalquorians looked like large, muscled versions of Earthers, with a few differences. For one thing, there were those catlike eyes. A longer torso. Fangs that imparted a kind of intoxicant to their bitten victims.

Another important difference had Rachel darting a glance at Conyod’s crotch. Kalquorian men had two penises, a larger one up front and smaller one behind it. Rachel had once had the very delightful opportunity to experience a man so endowed. The Kalquorian who had rescued her from the bowels of the prison she’d been incarcerated in had been a pure joy despite his inexperience with women. She couldn’t help but wonder how the older, more knowledgeable Conyod would feel inside her.

Yeah. She had it real bad for her doctor.

Like all the Kalquorians she’d seen, Conyod’s skin was the mocha with cream shade she associated with Earthers of Middle Eastern descent. His hair was so black the waves had blue highlights. His rugged face was delicious to the eyes. Not to mention a muscular body the loose-fitting tunic and trousers he wore couldn’t hide.

Rachel was getting wet and she forced herself to look away. She’d heard Kalquorians possessed a keen sense of smell, better than an Earth bloodhound. She certainly didn’t need to humiliate herself by letting Conyod know he aroused her to distraction. One of her worst fears was that she’d do something that would make the gorgeous Imdiko reassign her to another doctor. And while she liked most of the psychiatric staff in Kalquor’s largest hospital, none of them were Conyod.

She made herself look around her room. It was small, but comfortable. She had her thick sleeping mat in one corner, the softest surface she thought she’d ever slept upon. She made it up tidily every day though the orderlies were perfectly happy to do it for her. The room was softly lit, but she knew the illumination was more than bright enough for Conyod. Kalquorians could see in the dark, it seemed. Rachel envied the aliens that ability. Too many times she’d wakened in the middle of the night, certain she was still in the bowels of the prison, alone and frightened. Stubborn pride had kept her from sleeping with the lights on, so she’d spent many a sweat-soaked night peering blindly about until one of the night orderlies, keeping careful watch on monitor vids, came to check on her and give her a sedative.

Restful cream-colored walls and dark blue carpeting kept her room from looking too institutional despite the spartan decor. Her only furnishings beside the sleeping mat and Conyod’s Kalquorian-sized seating cushion consisted of a low table to take her meals at and another seat cushion, which she sat on now. Two vids provided pictures of pretty outdoor scenes, giving the illusion Rachel was looking out of windows. She had the options of viewing landscapes of any number of worlds. She kept the vid settings on random, and the view changed about ten times a day. Right now, one vid showed her the rolling hills of Joshada. The other depicted a Kalquorian mountain range which Conyod had commented on when he’d entered the room.

“That reminds me of my childhood home,” he’d said. As complex as ever, his expression had registered both sadness and pleasure.

How badly she’d wanted to ask why Conyod had such mixed feelings about his past. Not for the first time, she wondered how a man dedicated to healing the pain of others seemed to find no relief from the conflicts he himself bore. She was sure something preyed on the psychologist’s mind. He wore sadness like an almost visible cloak.

Rachel knew the feeling well.

Her doctor’s voice brought her back from her contemplation of the mountains that reminded him of home. “What do you want more than anything, Ray-Ray?”

She turned to look at him. His eyes were big, bigger than most Kalquorians she’d seen. The vibrant blue-purple orbs almost seemed to glow against his dark skin. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat having nothing to do with the blockade against her speech. What did she want? Boy, she would love to give him an earful on that.

Conyod nodded in encouragement. “If it’s something I can get, I will. Then all you have to do to claim your prize is say just one word. Any word.”

Love. I want to say love. Because every time I look at you now, that’s what my heart screams. It might be just infatuation, but damn it, it feels like the real thing.

He leaned close to her, his gaze avid. “There is something you want. I can see that. Tell me.” He nodded at her handheld computer sitting on the floor next to her cushion. She used it to communicate with the staff, since her stubborn throat refused to open up.

Damn it, she didn’t want to type. She wanted to talk. But fear of what she might say, the secrets she might tell, kept it all bottled up. Back on Earth, she’d been beaten and tortured for information. She’d kept the words inside, only screaming as hideous pain was inflicted on her poor body. I’ll never, ever tell you anything had been her internal mantra for all those terrible months. And now she couldn’t tell anyone anything at all.

She wanted to make Conyod proud. And he’d said she could say any word. Perhaps a word her now-dead torturers wouldn’t understand?

Rachel opened her mouth. She thought of a new word, saw its brightness in her head. Watched it travel down, down, closer to her mouth, approaching where the blockage always appeared just in time to keep her silent. Closer still, the passage still open, almost there…

“Retig,” she said.

The word was little more than a breath, with just enough grating undertone straining through to make it audible. It had been years since she’d spoken, and the weakness of her surgically healed vocal chords was obvious. But she’d said a word. Damn the bastards who had shut her up, she’d talked.

Conyod's mouth dropped open. He blinked. Then pure, unadulterated delight suffused his face, making him smile broader than Rachel had ever seen him smile. Her heart thumped painfully to see how he transformed with unguarded happiness.

He laughed hard, and the deep, rolling sound of it filled the room. Rachel had always wanted to hear Conyod laugh. It was a beautiful sound. His eyes were bright, as if they'd filled with tears. He reached for her as if to gather her in an embrace. Apparently he remembered himself just in time and settled for clapping.

Boy, she wished he'd hugged her instead.

She'd said hello after all. She'd said it in Kalquorian, but she'd done it. And he was so pleased with her. She smiled at his undisguised delight.

Finally Conyod was able to speak. “Excellent, Ray-Ray!” He nodded at her handheld. “I saw on the reports you were studying my language, but I never thought to have you speak it instead of your own. Well done!”

Rachel ducked her head, a little embarrassed to be praised so highly for uttering one word. But she knew it was a huge breakthrough. She kept her eyes on Conyod, enjoying the sight of him smiling so broadly.

He picked up his handheld and tapped its surface in short, quick bursts. “It’s safe to speak Kalquorian because so few Earthers understand, isn’t it?”

She nodded. As always, he’d seen right to the root of the issue. The man’s intuition made him a very good psychologist, at least in her opinion.

Conyod chuckled and put his handheld down again. His steady gaze enveloped her in warmth. “Wonderful! I’m so proud of you. Now … I believe I owe you a reward? What is it you want?”

Rachel deserved a reward all right. And suddenly she decided she would claim it rather than ask for it. It was the only way to ensure she’d get what she wanted.

In one smooth motion, as if she’d not left Earth with nearly a dozen badly healed broken bones, Rachel shifted from a cross-legged sitting position up onto her knees. She grabbed her startled therapist’s face between both hands, leaned forward, and closed her lips over his.

His lips were as soft as she’d imagined. In his shock, Conyod’s mouth opened to gasp, and Rachel brazenly took advantage of the opportunity. She flicked her tongue inside his mouth, tasting him.

She’d forgotten how raspy the Kalquorians’ tongues were, how like raw silk the texture of that flesh was. He tasted of sweet spice, and she uttered a weak groan.

Conyod’s arms, as strong as she’d dreamed, wrapped around her, pulling her up against his broad chest. She felt the strength of his muscled body and rubbed against him as desire, denied over almost a year while being his patient, overtook her.

Conyod growled a little, and his tongue invaded her mouth in a passionate kiss. Rachel’s insides melted to pool into her panties; hot, wet need. She climbed onto Conyod to rub her sex against his with wanton desperation.

He suddenly gasped and pulled his face from hers while simultaneously pushing her away. She whimpered and strained against his hands. Her heart thudded painfully.

Conyod slowly shook his head. “Rachel, this isn’t appropriate. I’m your doctor.”

Rachel detected a scent she’d smelled before and glanced down at his groin. The crotch of his pants was tight around an obvious erection. Her gaze met his again, and she arched an eyebrow at him.

He reddened. “I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. But it’s wrong for me to act on this. I cannot take advantage of my patient.”

Rachel blew out a frustrated breath. She could see his point and appreciate the awkward position she was putting him in. Still, he looked so damned good and felt twice as wonderful.

She leaned back, putting the distance he needed between them. Smiling ruefully, she settled back on her seating cushion and picked up her handheld to type.

Let’s see what you think of this, my gorgeous, ethical doctor, she thought as she wrote what she wanted to say:

You and Dr. Govi said my fear of speech was the only thing keeping me here. That once I spoke, I could be released. Would you like me to fire you as my psychologist right now so we can explore this?

Not that she meant a word of it. No doubt a man like Conyod already had a woman. Maybe his clan even had a Matara, a lifelong female mate. She’d never asked because she didn’t want to know he was unattainable. But now that she’d spoken, the clock was ticking on the time she had left as his patient. It was better to know now rather than later just how unavailable he was.

Even if he is without a mate, he’d never want me. Not broken, scarred, and ugly Rachel Hicks. He could definitely do better.

She was willing to settle for one glorious round of lovemaking. With the memory of being in Conyod’s arms to sustain her, she’d at least have that to treasure for the rest of her life.

She handed him her handheld, noting how it trembled the least little bit in his grip. He read it and gave her his patented Rachel-you’re-being-naughty-and-you’re-not-getting-away-with-it frown. He could be so paternal sometimes.

“You know there’s more to being cured than getting you to say one word,” he chastised.

She took the handheld back from him. Rachel decided it was time to go for broke and to give Conyod his chance to put an end to her dreams and her desires. To deny her the love she ached for him to return. Once he did that, she could start to plan for a productive, Conyod-less life, as empty as it would be.

She typed, I’m a grown woman who knows my own mind. I’ve had men, one of whom was Kalquorian. I want you. If you feel nothing for me beyond your professional compassion, tell me now.

Conyod read the message, and his eyebrows shot up. Rachel was just surprising him all over the place today. If she wasn’t so certain this session would end with her heart broken, she’d enjoy it.

Instead of telling her it could never be between them, Conyod said, “I wasn’t aware you’d been intimate with one of us. Were you coerced? We’re not allowed—”

Oh for heaven’s sake. Rachel leaned forward and put her hand to his mouth to shut him up. His breath was warm on her palm, and the thought of how his mouth had felt on hers made her insides clench. He watched her face and waited. She took her handheld back from him and sat back down. Typed another message.

I was very much the seducer, my rescuer’s first woman. You asked what I wanted in exchange for a word. I will tell you exactly.

She watched him read it, and when he looked up at her questioningly, she opened her mouth.

It’s not English. The words are Kalquorian. Say them.

“Imdiko Conyod.” A strengthless croak that came from her straining throat.

He heard it nonetheless, and his large, beautiful eyes shut with feeling. She couldn’t tell if it was because he was disgusted with her answer or enthralled because he’d cured her inability to speak.

Handheld again, because she only knew a few words of his language. If you don’t want me too, say so. It will hurt, but I can take it. I’ve lived through worse.

He read it. Then Conyod lifted his gaze to hers. She braced herself.

“I do want you.”

The entire world stopped in that instant. I didn’t hear that right. My wishful thinking made me hear something I wanted to. There is no way this man could care for me beyond doing his job.

But he was nodding slowly, his shoulders lifting as if a huge weight had been released. “I have almost from the moment you got here. From the second I laid eyes on your beautiful face and saw the strength behind the agony in your eyes — and now, hearing my name come from your lips—”

Conyod stopped, as if overcome. His hands covered his face, but not before Rachel saw the mix of despair, hope, and longing on his expression.

He sat that way for a few seconds, and she let him. She had no clue what to say or what to do. She simply waited for him. All the while, her thoughts yammered, He wants me! He wants me!

But something was wrong with the situation, something beyond the sacred doctor-patient issue. When Conyod emerged from behind his hands, his words bore that out.

He looked at Rachel and gave her the saddest, most heartrending smile she’d ever seen. “You are the only good thing I’ve known for a long time. But Ray-Ray, things are complicated right now with my clan. This … I need to think about this.”

He’d said clan, but not a word about a Matara. Rachel couldn’t help but allow a flicker of hope.

It was obvious Conyod wasn’t going to let himself be overcome by desire at this time, but Rachel could live with that. She would settle for a token of affection.

I’m sorry if I came on too strong, but I have very intense feelings for you. I know it’s not proper, but I really, really need you hold me.

As soon as he’d finished reading that, she added, “Krewet?” Please?

Conyod looked at her, his expression that of a man who felt as lost and frightened as a child alone in the woods. He took a deep breath and held his arms out to her.

Rachel went to him, sitting in the cradle of his crossed legs. His arms curled around her, surrounding her in warmth and protection. Rachel burrowed her face against his chest and sighed. His cheek pressed against the short cap of curls on top of her head and rubbed back and forth against the softness.

Rachel sighed again. She almost felt safe. She thought she could shelter in Conyod’s arms forever.

* * * *

Dramok Erybet fumed, though he kept his expression still as he walked down the well-lit hallway of the hospital’s Matara psychiatric wing. Damn Conyod. Of all the times for his Imdiko to work late, he had to pick this evening. Which led to another thought: was Conyod being difficult on purpose? Just to get back at Erybet for his silence, a silence he was under orders to keep?

The clan’s Nobek strode silently at Erybet’s side, his soft-soled feet making no sound even as Erybet stomped echoingly, the one betrayal of his anger. Sletran’s face was as stoic as the Dramok kept his. But Sletran rarely looked any other way these days. Even when the strong-featured Nobek had been caught hacking his hair off with a knife, driving Conyod into near hysterics, the look on his face had been pure indifference. Erybet had no doubt that the Nobek’s impromptu haircut was a sign of a growing storm of self-destructiveness. But the chilling lack of discernible emotion from his clanmate kept anyone from knowing when Sletran would perform an act of self-inflicted harm or when he’d pull one of his many disappearances.

In contrast to Erybet’s finer, almost pretty features, Sletran’s face was made of broad planes, strongly cut bone, somehow balanced with shockingly sensual lips. The Nobek was handsome in an almost brutal way. And his hair was growing out again, now nearly chin-length. However strained his emotional state may be, Sletran was a striking man, one that made the Mataras stop and stare. Well-muscled without being ponderous, he would no doubt impress the Earther woman they were meeting tonight.

If he would come out of his funk long enough to try. And if Conyod didn’t fuck everything up by making them late for their date.

It was their third attempt to attract a female mate. A third hope for Erybet that having a woman to devote themselves to, to protect, to care for, would at last fix his broken clan.

He could understand Sletran’s difficulty in reaching out. The man was still in shock from the war. No, not the war; that was not where his clanmate’s difficulties had sprung. True, the fighting had been terrible while they were in the thick of it. But it was what came after, when Earth had fallen and all that was left to do was clean up the aftermath. That was when hell had truly begun.

Conyod, however, was simply being stubborn. He refused to see that with his clanmates bound to secrecy by their superiors, the answer was a new start. A fresh start a Matara could bring. Yet he kept dragging his feet when it came to attracting one, even though their chances were beginning to fade.

It was pure chance for any clan to come up on the lottery, the system that allowed them the opportunity to add a childbearer to their group. Kalquorian women were rare; fertile ones of childbearing age almost nonexistent. Few Earther women from the nearly annihilated race were willing to choose Kalquorians over their own kind. It took a lot of luck to get to impress one. And the lottery only allowed a clan five chances to do so before the opportunity passed them by.

If his Imdiko would just cooperate!

The sound of sobbing distracted Erybet from his angry thoughts. An orderly escorting a young, crying woman came down the hall, heading in their direction. The medic had an arm around the Matara’s thin, shaking shoulders and he whispered gently to her as they walked. Her gaze was locked on Erybet and Sletran, and she began to resist coming closer to them.

Erybet realized he had clenched his fists at his sides, showing his upset over his ruminations. He quickly released the tension in his body and slowed his progress, approaching the pair carefully. He gave his gentlest smile to the poor little blonde, whose black-hollowed eyes gave her frightened face the visage of a skull.

He didn’t often visit Conyod at his work. Seeing the damaged Mataras from Earth, the ones who’d endured so much trauma that they couldn’t join the lottery or be sent to the scattered Earther colonies, was hard. Looking into haunted eyes of such fragile creatures made him hurt.

Better than seeing them ripped apart physically, his mind whispered. Like the ones at New Bethlehem after you gave the order…

Erybet’s mind skittered from the memory. He would not think about that. Would not.

Now the young woman was trying to hide behind the orderly. He continued to whisper gently to her, but she wanted to be nowhere near the unfamiliar Kalquorians. The orderly smiled apologetically at Erybet and Sletran, shrugging a little. “It’s all right, Matara. No one wants to hurt you.”

Erybet glanced at Sletran. His Nobek had emerged from his emotionless state to look stricken. Erybet hoped it was only because seeing a crying woman was so awful, and not because Sletran was remembering New Bethlehem too.

Not daring to look at his clanmate for too long lest Sletran take the attention the wrong way, Erybet stepped close, but not too close, to the orderly and his patient. Sletran stayed by his side. They bowed deeply to the frightened Matara.

Taking his cue from the orderly’s whispering, Erybet very quietly said, “Good evening, Matara. Please accept my apologies if our appearance frightens you. I hope you have a pleasant night.”

For a wonder, Sletran also spoke. His voice was soothing in its deep tones. “I too apologize for having upset you, Matara. We will be on our way and distress you no more.”

She abruptly stopped crying, her eyes wide and wondering as she looked at them. The orderly chuckled. “See? There’s no one to be afraid of here.”

He nodded to Erybet and Sletran, ushering the woman past them. She cast nervous but much calmer looks at them over her shoulder as she went.

Erybet and Sletran continued on their way. The Dramok had wanted to ask if the orderly had seen Conyod, but the woman’s obvious fear had kept him from doing so. Fortunately, he saw another orderly escorting a hover cart down the hall, stopping at each patient’s room to access the closed doors and drop off a meal.

They drew abreast of the broadshouldered Imdiko. Erybet kept his voice low, not sure how well sound carried from the hall to the patients’ rooms. “Excuse me, but I’m looking for Dr. Conyod. He’s not in his office and I need to see him right away.”

The orderly jerked his head back in the direction from which they’d come. “He’s probably in Matara Rachel’s room. He usually checks in with her one last time before leaving for the night. Room 786, right over there.”

Erybet nodded. “Thank you. Come on, Sletran. Let’s round up our Imdiko and see if we can salvage this night.”

As they headed back, Erybet went back to seething at his unthinking clanmate. For making us late to have dinner with a potential Matara, this Matara Rachel had better be in a bad way.

Immediate horror followed the thought. He did not want any female to be suffering. The Earther women had endured enough from all that had happened to them. Most of them had been on Earth when the nuclear blasts had happened, making the planet uninhabitable. Before that, they’d been second class citizens among their own kind, kept subservient because of a religion that saw them as inherently sinful.

And women on the colonies hadn’t fared much better, had they? Erybet’s stomach curled in on itself as he remembered body parts scattered around a blackened blast site.

He had returned to Kalquor, but Erybet knew he would never truly escape New Bethlehem.

Yet another headache pulsed behind Erybet’s eyes as he and Sletran neared the room where Conyod might be hiding, once more avoiding them as long as he possibly could.

* * * *

Rachel had managed to move Conyod from cuddling to kissing. Knowing he had feelings for her, she was eager to press her advantage.

Now that she had him going, there was nothing tentative about her doctor’s embrace. He held her close, his mouth firm, even demanding, as he tasted her. His tongue stroked hers, and she moaned in his mouth. The delicious way he kissed her had her senses rioting. Maybe she was wrong for insisting he break the rules, but damn it, she needed this. She grew needier by the second.

Rachel moved against Conyod, passion insistent. He made a sound deep in his throat, something very much like a growl. Despite their intelligence, she knew the Kalquorians possessed a primal core, and that suited her fine. The threat of feral reaction excited her.

As Rachel readied to make her next move, a knock sounded at the door. Conyod tore his mouth from hers with a gasp. He looked at her and laughed shakily.

“Your dinner has arrived, I suppose.”

Conyod stood, holding her in his arms. He set her on her feet. Rachel fought not to pout like a three-year old. But damn it, she’d been enjoying him so much!

Conyod went to the door, his face still flushed. “Enter,” he commanded, and it slid open. His jaw dropped in shock as he looked into the hall. “My Dramok, my Nobek. What are you doing here?”

A low, angry voice answered him. “I could ask the same of you. We have an appointment in five minutes, an important one. Why have you not come home?”

Conyod shot a glance at Rachel and swallowed. She stared. He looked absolutely miserable now. “I – I guess I fell behind on my rounds. My father Vel stopped by for a visit today, so I’m playing catch-up.”

Rachel had to see the clanmates who had put that expression on Conyod’s face. She stepped to his side and stared at the two men outside her room.

They couldn’t have been a more dissimilar pair physically. The slightly taller and more muscular of the two shouldn’t have been handsome, not with that heavy brow, wide forehead, and strong jaw. Each individual feature was simply too rough and unrefined for attractiveness. Well, except for his lips. His lips were plump, sensual things that made Rachel not want to kiss so much as nibble. Somehow the entire package worked for him. He was striking, worth a long, slow look.

He also wore his hair much shorter than any Kalquorian man she’d seen. As he looked back at her, his set expression shifted to something dark. Was it pain? Anger? Probably both since Rachel had seen the look on her own face. Suddenly she knew something else: he’d cut off his own hair in a self-destructive rage, much as she had done to hers over and over. She’d finally quit attacking her curls after all cutting implements had been removed from her room, but her hair had been kept shorn close to her skull at her insistence. She told herself it was because the look suited her and shied away from any other reasons.

Looking at this man, she knew better. For whatever reason, he had wanted to punish himself. Just as she had. Just as she sometimes still did.

It was hard to look away from the amazing, distressing sight of this man to look at the other. After only a few moments, Rachel managed. The second man, though not quite as tall as his companion, still had at least six inches on Conyod. His features were much more delicate than those of either of his clanmates. He was almost pretty but somehow managed blatant masculinity at the same time. His sculpted jaw was strong, his cheekbones well-formed, his nose as straight as an arrow. The grim set of his mouth was the only negative note on a gorgeous face framed by long, wavy hair. His build was the slenderest of the three, but there was no denying the aura of command that surrounded him. This one would be Conyod’s Dramok, Rachel decided.

The two men bowed deeply to her, their gazes never leaving her face. The pretty Kalquorian spoke, his voice the same as the one she’d heard speak to Conyod. At least the anger had disappeared. “Hello, Matara.”

They straightened, and the other man also spoke up, a smile hinting at those delicious lips but not quite bursting forth. “No wonder you spend so much time at work, Conyod.”

His voice was deliciously deep, and Rachel shivered. A stray fantasy of hearing him order her to disrobe and lie down before him made her lick her lips. Good heavens, she was horny.

The Nobek’s statement took some of the angst from Conyod’s expression. “Matara Rachel, these are my clanmates. Dramok Erybet and Nobek Sletran.”

The men bowed again. Rise, my subjects, Rachel thought and couldn’t help but smile. Respectful gentlemen. How nice.

“Retig,” she rasped. The magic word that had gotten her in Conyod’s arms. Her favorite word in the universe right now.

Erybet gave her a surprised but delighted smile. “You speak Kalquorian?”

Rachel showed him how little by holding her hand up and indicating with a bare inch between her thumb and index finger. That elicited chuckles from all the men, even the Nobek. Erybet and Conyod looked at him with surprise.

Conyod wiped the wide-eyed expression from his face. He asked her, “May I explain?”

If he trusted them, she could too. She nodded her assent.

With pride, but for her accomplishment and not his own, Conyod told the other men, “Rachel has had a huge breakthrough, just minutes ago in fact. Her vocal chords were badly damaged when she was brought to Kalquor, which surgery corrected. However, the trauma she endured after being interrogated on Earth by the authorities left her psychologically incapable of speaking. She’s found a way around that by learning to say a few words in Kalquorian.”

Erybet’s brows drew together. “A fascinating solution to what I am sure has been a great obstacle. I’m very sorry to hear of your trials, Matara.”

He sounded sincere, not at all as if he was delivering an expected statement. Rachel warmed under his compassionate regard.

Sletran thrilled her with that deep voice again. “You were incarcerated? Tortured?”

Rachel nodded and typed on her handheld, which she’d thankfully brought with her. I attempted to lead an insurrection against the worst women’s prison in the North American bloc. It didn’t go so well.

He read her words with Erybet leaning close so he too could see the handheld. Sletran nodded at her. Though he couldn’t possibly be impressed with her cataclysmic failure, his tone was warm and approving. “Very brave of you.”

“Indeed.” Erybet considered her and seemed about to say something else when something on his belt beeped. He scowled at no one in particular. “My apologies, Matara Rachel. I hate to do this because I want to know more, but we do have an appointment.” He smiled an apology to her. “Hopefully, Conyod will tell us more of your story, with your permission.”

Rachel nodded.

Conyod didn’t move as his clanmates stepped back and waited for him. With obvious reluctance, he told her, “We have a meeting with a Matara tonight. Our clan was randomly picked for the honor by the lottery.”

Rachel’s heart dropped. His clan was actively pursuing a Matara?

Gee Conyod, it would have been nice if you’d mentioned that before I wallowed all over you.

His obvious discomfort didn’t keep his gaze from meeting hers. He looked hard at her, as if trying to communicate something. Rachel thought she understood. He didn’t want another woman. He wanted her.

But the other two men had better options than a broken down, scarred, and mute female. And two votes versus one would leave her out in the cold. Or did clanning a Matara require a unanimous decision?

She’d have a lot of questions for Conyod at their next session. For now, she had to let him go to his … oh, she hated to think it … date. She managed a tight smile and nodded.

With rapid-fire typing, she told them all, I hope you have a pleasant evening. Good luck to your clan.

Erybet smiled and answered for them all. “Thank you, Matara.” He gave his Imdiko a sharp look. “Conyod?”

“Of course. Good night, Rachel. I look forward to further developments tomorrow.” With a last look, he followed his clanmates, leaving her behind.

The dinner cart arrived at her room just then. Rachel gave the orderly a wan smile as she accepted her platter and walked inside with a meal she had no appetite for. She sat down at her small table and ate anyway, knowing not eating wouldn’t sit well with the psychiatric staff.

Rachel chewed slowly, not tasting any of the ronka meat and gusasp that she’d normally enjoy. Conyod wants me, she told herself over and over. But the words weren’t the celebration they should have been.

Rachel knew better than to fool herself. There was a chance she and Conyod were done before they’d even properly begun, what with two other men in the equation. Plus, they were interviewing likely Mataras. Crap.

She liked to think she wasn’t petty. Perhaps they’d meet a woman who would be a good match for all three of them. Someone who would make a wonderful mate for Conyod, maybe erase that undercurrent of sadness from his soul. But even though she knew it was childish, Rachel couldn’t help but wish that one of the men would accidentally dump a bowl of soup on their date’s lap tonight.

Chapter 2

Erybet commed ahead to the Matara they were supposed to be meeting this very moment, a woman named Maria. Fortunately she was running late too. “No problem,” came her bright voice over his com. “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

She sounded nice. Sweet. But Conyod knew she would be nothing compared to Rachel. No woman would.

Snapping his com back onto his belt, Erybet shot a look back at his Imdiko who trailed behind. His expression was both exasperated and concerned. “Is Matara Rachel the one who’s keeping you from us these days?”

Rachel was a big reason. She’d come into Conyod’s life just a little before Erybet and Sletran had returned from the war. Working with her, discovering the sweet but tough mix of her personality had eased a lot of the crushing loneliness at the time. Conyod had not been exaggerating when he told her he’d wanted her from the very start. He’d known he was in love early on.

She had also become a convenient excuse to avoid two clanmates Conyod no longer recognized. These were not the men who’d left Kalquor to fight the war against Earth. Even Sletran was a stranger now, nothing like the Nobek Conyod had adored since he was a teenager. His hero had not come home.

He didn’t want to tell them these things, but he couldn’t outright lie either. Both men knew him too damned well. “She’s part of it.”

Erybet scowled. He kept his voice low. “People change, Imdiko, especially men who have been through war. Just because we’re not quite how you remember us—”

Here we go again. Conyod couldn’t keep the furious hurt out of his voice. “You’re nothing like the men I clanned with. I’m not stupid, you know. I understand war changes people, but this is beyond that. If you’d just give me a hint as to what happened, maybe I could find something to grasp, some common ground where I could meet you.”

Erybet stopped and swung around so quickly that Conyod would have run into him if Sletran’s arm hadn’t shot out to stop him in time. Before Conyod could catch his eyes, the Nobek looked away, his gaze darting away as if ashamed.

Conyod couldn’t remember the last time Sletran had looked him in the eyes.

They were just in front of Conyod’s office, and Sletran yanked him towards it. “In here. If you two have to fight about this again, at least do it in private.”

The three went in. The door shut, leaving Conyod alone with his clanmates. Erybet loomed over him, his lips pressed tightly together. Conyod returned the glare, not giving an inch. Sometimes he thought he hated his Dramok. If Erybet would give just the tiniest bit, Sletran might open up and tell Conyod why he’d hacked his once waist-length hair off. Why he shouted “No! No!” in his sleep, his voice breaking in horror and despair. Why he sometimes disappeared for hours at a time and wouldn’t tell them where he’d gone, re-appearing with bruises and scratches all over his body.

Sletran was self-destructing. And until Erybet let him speak, Conyod could only stand by and watch his hero fall apart.

Yes, sometimes he really did hate Erybet. Like right this moment.

“Damn it, it kills me when you look at me like that,” the Dramok said, his shoulders drooping. “Don’t you know I’d tell you everything if I could? I’ve never kept secrets from you before. But we’re sworn to do so now by the Imperial Commander himself.”

The defeated look Erybet wore made Conyod’s anger waver. He knew Erybet was hurting too. That perhaps the Dramok himself was lost in an emotional storm no less destructive than Sletran’s. But seeing the frozen blankness on Sletran’s face that didn’t quite hide the torment in his eyes made Conyod feel mean.

Damn it, Erybet was their Dramok. He was supposed to lead his clan, to put their welfare ahead of all else. His voice cold, Conyod told him, “I don’t know anything anymore except my clan is falling apart, and you’re letting it happen.”

Raw anger sparked anew in Erybet’s expression. Sletran picked up on it immediately and pushed Conyod back a little, angling his body so that he was between the Dramok and Imdiko. Protective as always. It was the one thing about Sletran that hadn’t changed.

That made Conyod’s vision swim, and he blinked hard. Damn it, he wanted his Nobek back. And his Dramok too, for that matter, as mad as Erybet made him. So he didn’t hate his leader after all. If he did, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

Grief made Conyod’s throat and chest ache with physical pain. He tried to hold onto control, to not show weakness. He’d gotten pretty good at it lately, but this time restraint failed him. He barked out a harsh sob.

Ashamed, he turned away from both men.

Erybet sighed, a soft, defeated sound. “I’m sorry, Conyod. I know you don’t believe that, but I am. I’d lay down my life for the two of you. If I thought it would fix things, I’d throw myself off the cliffs. My Imdiko, I’m doing the best I can.”

And Sletran, his deep voice trying to be gentle, said, “He is, Conyod. Erybet’s hands are tied in this matter. It’s my own fault I’m doing so badly, not his.”

Erybet’s voice again. “It’s not your fault, Sletran. None of it is.”

There was a long silence there, one that told Conyod that Sletran still blamed himself for all the anguish that had befallen the clan. And when Sletran got upset, he disappeared. Conyod was terrified that one day the Nobek would pull one of his vanishing acts and not return.

So stop weeping like a child and act like you’ve got a backbone. He needs you to be strong. They both do. It’s not the clan I started with, but it’s the one I have now.

Conyod took a deep breath. Squared his shoulders. Impatiently scrubbed off the betraying tears that had escaped.

He turned and faced his clanmates. They looked back at him with twin expressions of concern, pain, and resignation. It was that last element that made Conyod’s stomach churn. It was as if the two had seen something so horrible that it took away all hope for joy in this life.

To Erybet, he said, “I’m not going to let this go, my Dramok. I don’t care if all the ancestors commanded your silence. I can’t watch the two of you suffer so badly and do nothing.”

One corner of Erybet’s mouth lifted. His gaze soft on Conyod, he said, “You’ll only stay mad at me if you keep pushing it. Concentrate instead on our opportunity to clan a Matara.”

Conyod pushed down a fresh flare of anger. Keeping his voice even, he said, “We have no business pulling a woman into this mess. How can we properly care for a childbearer when we’re falling apart ourselves?”

“The Matara is the center of the clan. With one of our own, we will have a collective purpose again.” Erybet’s tone and expression firmed. “You will not destroy this opportunity, Conyod. This is our third attempt, and we only get five. We won’t come up in the lottery again.”

“Well maybe there’s a woman for us who isn’t in the lottery yet.”

Sletran’s face brightened with sudden interest, an event in itself. “The one we met? Your patient?”

Erybet scowled. “She looks like a fine woman, beautiful and brave and strong, to be sure. But there’s no guarantee your Rachel will want a clan once she’s released from here. We have a chance tonight with a woman who has confirmed her interest in mating with Kalquorians. Don’t be a fool, Conyod.”

Erybet didn’t see that Conyod had already fallen in love with Ray-Ray. That no other woman would do for the Imdiko. Before the war, he’d have noticed right away. Erybet’s inability to see how Conyod felt underscored how much the man had changed.

A chill filled the Imdiko’s belly. His voice as cold as his insides, Conyod said, “Shouldn’t we be going then? I thought we were late, Dramok.”

Erybet’s eyes narrowed at his tone. “Thanks to you,” he shot back.

He turned to the door, which obediently opened for him. Erybet left the office with long strides, not bothering to check that they followed him.

Sletran’s hand closed on Conyod’s shoulder and squeezed. “He is trying, my Imdiko.”

Conyod looked into the haunted eyes of his clanmate of 18 years, his beloved champion for so many more. “Not hard enough, Sletran. Not hard enough by far.”

He followed Erybet, keeping pace with Sletran so they walked side by side. Even with the Nobek painfully distant, Conyod still preferred his company over Erybet’s. It was impossible to be mad at Sletran when he was so obviously wounded. And Erybet was Sletran’s immediate commanding officer in the military. Whatever had happened to him was ultimately on the Dramok’s shoulders.

Sletran’s long strides meant they caught up to Erybet in short order. Wanting to stay near the Nobek’s side put Conyod between the two men. Next to Erybet who couldn’t, or simply wouldn’t, answer the mystery of what had happened during the war.

Conyod saw two familiar figures heading down the hall towards them. One of the men he genuinely liked; the hospital’s head psychologist Dr. Govi, Kalquor’s leading expert on Earther Matara trauma. The handsome man was dedicated to a fault. Too dedicated perhaps. Rumor had it that Govi’s Dramok had insisted he cut back on his hours for the wellbeing of their clan. It wouldn’t have surprised Conyod to learn such a thing was true. Imdiko Govi cared for his damaged charges like a father for his daughters.

The second in charge of the department was not such a favorite of Conyod’s, nor most of the staff. That Dr. Kivokan was talented was not disputed. But there was something cold in the Dramok psychiatrist’s demeanor that all his copious charm couldn’t quite mask. And his readiness to mindwipe the more damaged patients – to erase not just their memories but their entire identities – didn’t sit well with the majority of the staff. Conyod had privately voiced his objections to Govi and been relieved to find his supervisor agreed. Only two women had been subjected to the mindwipe procedure thus far. Their horrific experiences of multiple rapes since childhood had left them both completely insane. It had probably been for the best for them to start from scratch. Even so, Conyod had still shuddered at the terrible blankness they’d emerged from the treatment with. He didn’t like to think about it, though intensive restructuring therapy had made them happy women with new identities and good, productive lives.

Fortunately, Kivokan concerned himself more with administrative duties than actual one-on-one therapy. Conyod got along with him for the most part, especially during the war when they’d both been deprived of their clanmates. Kivokan’s Nobek was Erybet’s immediate commanding officer, just one step below the Imperial Commander, Emperor Bevau.

Govi immediately hailed Conyod’s clanmates with an easy grin. “Good evening Erybet and Sletran. It’s been a long time since I last saw you around here. Have you met Dramok Kivokan?”

Erybet nodded his respect to the two doctors. “He is clanned to my commanding officer. Good evening to both of you. I am sorry to be abrupt, but we are extremely late for an appointment. We’re here to collect Conyod and be on our way.”

Kivokan waved off Erybet’s explanation and Govi shook his head to show no offense was taken. “Not at all, please go. Is it the lottery? Conyod said you’d been given the opportunity.”

“Yes. Fortunately, she is as late as we are, so I hope there is no harm done.”

Conyod didn’t want another altercation with Erybet, but he felt he had to report to his superiors. “Just a quick moment to tell them the news of my patient, my Dramok?”

Erybet stiffened a little, but he nodded acquiescence. Maybe he didn’t want to fight anymore tonight either.

Not wishing to tax his leader’s patience, Conyod quickly said, “Dr. Govi, Rachel had a breakthrough. She spoke a few words today.”

Govi’s eyes went wide. “That’s wonderful! How did that come about?”

Conyod thought about his attempted bribe to get Rachel to talk, and what she’d wanted in return for that single word. His face warmed. He decided it would be best to not share all the details.

Instead, he offered the weak, “She’s been learning Kalquorian on her own. She feels it’s safer to speak our language instead of her English.”

He felt Erybet and Sletran’s gazes on him. No, he couldn’t get away with a lie around those two. Not even a half-truth.

Kivokan and Govi, on the other hand, exchanged excited glances. “That is an interesting work around. It cancels her fear of divulging secrets to the wrong people,” Kivokan mused.

Govi concurred. “I hadn’t considered the possibility before. We have a dozen other nonverbal Mataras. None of whom are as stable as Rachel, but it may be worth our while to teach them Kalquorian as well.” He checked the time and winced. “I really have to get going or my Dramok will have my head for working too late. I must check in with Rachel for just a few minutes though. Good night, everyone. And excellent work, Dr. Conyod.” He rushed towards her room.

Kivokan joined Erybet’s clan as they continued on their way to public docking. The psychiatrist oozed charm that always seemed a tad calculating to Conyod.

“I was just in your Imdiko’s neck of the woods the other day, Dramok Erybet.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Conyod said. He might not be Kivokan’s biggest fan, but they did have a lot in common. He told his clanmates, “Dr. Kivokan’s clan bought the property right next to my stables. A little getaway, I believe?”

Kivokan smiled. “The country is so relaxing. My Nobek Akrij in particular has fallen in love with the area. He goes out there every chance he gets.”

Erybet’s eyebrows raised. “I never realized High Commander Akrij had an affinity for such remote areas. Wasn’t he raised here in the capital city?”

“Since the war he’s found the peace and quiet of the plains and mountains a soothing respite.”

They reached the shuttle docks and Kivokan went the opposite direction from the group. “Have a good night, all. Good luck with your meeting. Wonderful job with Matara Rachel, Dr. Conyod.”

“Thank you, sir.” Just hearing her name made the Imdiko’s heart stutter a little. If he had any luck tonight, it would be that tonight’s lottery pick would be an absolutely horrible example of an Earther Matara.

* * * *

When a knock sounded at her door, Rachel had the wild hope it was Conyod. Seeing Dr. Govi instead was a bit of a disappointment, but she smiled anyway. She liked Govi. Better him than the slick, debonair, and totally smarmy Kivokan any day.

Govi grinned back. “Hello Rachel.”

“Retig, Govi.” It was still a shock to hear the whispering croak coming from her throat. She hoped he didn’t mind her omitting ‘doctor’ from her greeting. She hadn’t learned the Kalquorian equivalent yet.

The utterly stunning Kalquorian laughed out loud. “Your voice is the sweetest sound I’ve heard all day. Well done!”

Her face heated at the effusive praise. She motioned for him to come in and sit.

Govi entered the room but stayed just inside the doorway. It was late in the day, and Rachel didn’t doubt he’d been leaving for home when Conyod had told him she’d spoken.

She typed him a message on her handheld. A snarling Tragoom sounds better than I do.

He laughed again, the rolling thunder of his amusement filling the room. “I would argue that. I’m sure as you get more practice, your voice will clear up. Vocal chords weaken like any other body part not used regularly, so you’ll have to build it a bit at a time. Do you feel confident you’ll continue to learn Kalquorian and speak more?”

Rachel wanted to talk to Conyod. Not just say hello. Not just speak his name. She wanted to have a real conversation, one in which they could share their thoughts and feelings without her crutch of a computer. She gave Govi an emphatic nod.

“Good. Then we can start thinking along the lines of treating you on an outpatient basis.”

Rachel’s heart sped. Fear and hope warred for supremacy. She typed, How soon?

Govi considered. “That will depend on your progress and how prepared you feel you are. If you keep working at speaking, maybe as soon as within a week. More likely two, but if you’re driven to prove you’re ready…” He shrugged, letting her know the ball was in her court.

Rachel swallowed. Leaving could mean not seeing Conyod again. And she’d not been outside the psychiatric wing of the hospital since coming to Kalquor. Suddenly the prospect of being cured was more daunting than she’d anticipated.

She asked, Where will I go?

“If I’m not mistaken, you’ve indicated an interest in joining a clan?” At her nod, Govi said, “In that case, you’ll join the other Earther Mataras in Kalquor’s lottery program. Quarters in the Earther Matara compound will be assigned to you, and they’re quite comfortable from what I’ve been told. There are communal exercise facilities, meeting places, spas run by the Tratsods who are noted for their ability to relax both mind and body, all sorts of amenities. In fact, some clans have complained we’ve made life for the unclanned Earthers so nice, the women don’t want to leave.” He chuckled.

I know it’s past time for you to go home, but could you quickly explain the lottery to me?

Govi was too nice to check his chronometer. Acting as if she didn’t impose on him at all, he said, “Of course. Clans are picked randomly to present themselves to up to five Mataras. I have no doubt you won’t lack interested suitors. You meet them for an initial appointment – I think you Earthers refer to them as ‘dates’ – and if you like a particular clan, you can meet with them as many times as you wish until you make a decision.”

It sounds great for my kind, but I’ll bet there are a lot of disappointed clans.

“That’s true. There simply aren’t enough women to go around, but that’s been the state of Kalquor for centuries now. That’s why we have the clan system.”

She’d known all that, but Rachel had been looking for confirmation of what she’d been told. She typed, I’ve taken up enough of your time, Dr. Govi. Then she said, “Gutuk ze.”

He truly looked delighted with her. “You are most welcome, Rachel. Keep working on it. Good night.”

“Ek dug.”

Govi grinned fit to split his stunning face. “Marvelous. I am so happy for you.”

He bowed his head to her and left. Rachel thought without a trace of envy how lucky his Matara was to have such a dashing sweetheart of an Imdiko.

It was funny how the handsome, kind Govi somehow didn’t appeal to Rachel the same way the darker, moodier Conyod did. Maybe it was because she identified with angst better after all she’d been through. His clanmates Erybet and Sletran also had pain lurking in their demeanors, though they’d attempted to mask it with polite interest.

I wonder if I can get out of here soon enough to be considered by Conyod’s clan. But they know I’m damaged. And even if we got along, how would they feel when they see my scars? When they learn of how stupid and pointless my stand against Earth’s authority really was? How I got two dozen people, including the man I loved, killed?

Conyod had been understanding about all those things, but maybe he was one in a million. Still, it was nice to think she might have the opportunity to make her case to join his clan and spend her life with him.

Rachel wondered how the men’s date was going. It was probably wrong to hope the Matara they were meeting was ugly or stupid so Conyod’s clan wouldn’t want her. But Rachel hoped that was the case anyway.

* * * *

Erybet thought that if it was left up to the atmosphere of the eatery named A Taste of Home, they’d have no problem impressing Matara Maria. Unfortunately, it seemed the only other thing his clan had gotten right was their gift to her. The Dramok had commissioned a Joshadan craftsman to fashion the necklace made of precious gemstones mined from one of Kalquor’s moons. Pretty, dark-haired Maria had gasped with delight when she’d opened the box it nestled in. It now glittered in iridescent rainbow hues around her generously perfumed neck.

That and getting into the most popular restaurant in the capital city’s marketplace had been the positives of the night. The eatery had opened only a year prior and was a runaway success with its fusion of Earther and Kalquorian cuisine. Erybet had gotten on the waiting list to eat here the moment the clan had come up on the lottery two months prior. It was geared specifically for clans with Earther Mataras, serving delicious cuisine for all tastes. Those women homesick for the foods they’d grown up with were guaranteed to find something they liked.

The restaurant was also meant for romance, with each table nestled inside half-circle partitions that promoted privacy and intimacy. Low lighting and soft music and the relaxing tinkle of a nearby fountain enhanced the cozy, conversation-inducing setting, and the quick and unobtrusive service was a plus. It had been so successful that there was talk of opening a second location on Kalquor’s next-largest city a continent away.

Erybet’s plate of chafga meat and stewed beets couldn’t have smelled more savory. He’d never had Earther food before, but the beets’ sweetness and the shrimp and chile-stuffed mushroom caps they’d started the meal with couldn’t have suited his palate more. Unfortunately, he was starting to feel nauseous. The night had taken a turn for the worse.

Maria couldn’t be blamed, overzealous use of cologne notwithstanding. The young vivacious woman had spent a lot of time trying to engage Erybet’s clanmates in conversation. She got next to nothing from Sletran, which was not surprising. But Conyod was almost as quiet, providing one or two-word answers to her questions.

The poor girl was trying to draw out the reticent Imdiko once again. “Of the Mataras under your care, which has been your most interesting case, Dr. Conyod?”

The thus-far unenthusiastic Conyod finally showed a flicker of his former gregarious personality. His face lighting with genuine pleasure, he said, “My best case is that of a young woman who had a huge breakthrough this evening. I confess it’s my fault we were late in meeting you, because I was enthralled with the latest step in her recovery. She’s been completely mute, afraid of speaking because she was tortured for information back on Earth.”

His excitement in answering, which had initially given Erybet a sense of relief, quickly became another negative in what had become a terrible night. Conyod continued to go on and on about Rachel, as if Maria would find the intricacies of her treatment fascinating. And he kept talking, not allowing Maria to contribute a single word to the conversation. With a sinking heart, Erybet watched Maria’s interest fade to polite attention then to boredom.

Conyod didn’t notice. It was as if there was nothing else in all the universe to talk about but Matara Rachel. Through his misery, Erybet wondered at his usually sensitive and empathetic Imdiko’s inability to see he was tiring their date.

Next to him, Sletran sat silently, slowly chewing his meal with no sign of enjoyment and evidencing no interest at all in the goings on. He’d been pleasant when spoken to, but otherwise, the Nobek might as well have not been there.

Conyod finally paused long enough to draw a breath, and Maria took the opportunity to jump in. “Your patient is very fortunate to have someone so passionately dedicated to her care.”

Trying to forestall another launch into all things Rachel, Erybet asked the lovely, round-featured Earther, “Did we mention Conyod was the psychiatric team’s top pick to join them? He was chosen over 200 other candidates.”

She smiled tightly. “Yes, I believe you did mention that. One can see why, given his devotion.”

The silence that followed was undeniably uncomfortable. Conyod, deprived of what was apparently the only subject he wanted to talk about, descended into silence once more. Erybet desperately searched his mind for something to say that would impress the Matara, something about his clan he hadn’t spoken of yet. Something that would warrant a second meeting. He came up with zilch.

Damn it, he’d carried the evening, such as it was, on his own. He tried to catch his clanmates’ eyes, to plead silently for help. But Sletran stared into space, presumably seeing nothing but past horrors. Conyod picked miserably at his half-eaten dessert of glazed fitu fruit.

A young man dressed in a loose-fitting cook’s tunic stepped in their eating area, his expression warmly polite. The handsome youth looked questioningly at Erybet, who nodded his permission to address them. Erybet was relieved to have the distraction.

The cook smiled at the group. “Good evening, all. I’m Imdiko Vax, owner of this establishment. May I interrupt you for just a moment to ask how the food was?”

Maria was quick to enthuse. She’d not left a crumb on any of her dishes. “It was all amazing, Imdiko. I really wanted the filet mignon, but I’m so glad your waiter steered me towards the braised ronka. It literally melted in my mouth.”

Vax was unabashedly delighted with the praise. “Excellent! Did you have the garlic mashed potatoes with it? They really do match up wonderfully.”

She nodded, her dark curls springing about her face with her adamant pleasure. “I did. And this—” she indicated the empty stemmed bowl that had recently contained her dessert “—the tiramisu was pure heaven. Your Matara is so lucky to have a man who can cook like you.”

It took all Erybet’s self control to keep disappointment from flooding his expression. Maria was obvious as she fished for Vax’s clan status.

The Imdiko darted a quick glance at him and flushed with embarrassment. The voltage of his smile lowered. “I’ll be sure to tell her. It doesn’t hurt to remind her to appreciate me once in awhile.”

The obligatory laughter from all was forced. Vax wasted no time bowing and leaving, but not before sympathy crossed his gentle features.

Well, at least one Imdiko in the building was aware of the obvious. Erybet took no comfort from it, however. The date was a lost cause and all he wanted to do now was get it over with.

He grabbed his large glass of kloq and drained it in one go. He hoped they had plenty more at home to help him forget the humiliation of this night. And not just tonight. There was a lot he’d like to forget.

* * * *

Erybet’s shuttle landed in its assigned place between his clanmates’ personal vehicles. He turned it off, winking out Conyod’s view of the exterior vid, which showed the docking bay in the complex where they lived. Like a quarter of the city’s inhabitants, they lived within the cliffs overlooking the pink-sand beach at the western edge of Kalquor’s largest ocean. Spacious living quarters and multiple levels had been cut inside the natural formations. The Imperial Clan and their immediate families also lived in one of the cliffs. The Royal House was about half a mile away from where Erybet’s group made their home, along with around 300 other clans.

The interior of the cliff dwelling showed little evidence of the natural formation it was carved from. The floor of the bay was polished smooth as glass, and light emitted from the wall and ceiling panels that covered the stone.

As soon as they disembarked, Sletran muttered something about taking a walk on the beach. He headed towards the transport tube that accessed all levels and sections of the cliff without waiting for their leave. Conyod started to say something, but one look at Erybet’s face shut him up. The Dramok’s fine-drawn features were almost feral with his brow crushing down over his eyes and mouth curled in a near snarl. Erybet was boiling mad.

His shoulders hunched almost defensively, Conyod followed Erybet to another transport. Except for his leader’s snapped orders to the transport controls, neither said anything.

The second they got into their quarters’ greeting room, Erybet tossed the box containing the necklace they’d presented Matara Maria to a nearby table. That she’d been reluctant to return it had been obvious, but she’d told them, “I’m sorry but I don’t think your clan is for me. And as much as I love this necklace, I wouldn’t feel right accepting it.”

She’d been a very nice woman, more than acceptable for a potential Matara. Conyod felt a wash of guilt that he’d disappointed Erybet by not trying harder. But Maria was not Rachel. Not by far, and he just couldn’t pretend interest in the woman, not even to make his Dramok happy.

Erybet stalked across the room to the bar, wasting no time in pouring himself a glass of bohut, a much more potent drink than the kloq he’d had at the restaurant. Conyod eyed the half dozen bottles of alcohol at the bar with desire, but he wasn’t going to go anywhere near while his furious Dramok stood there.

He’s never truly hurt me. His discipline and punishments have always been fair, the Imdiko told himself. But Erybet was a near stranger to him now, and who knew what he was capable of in such a rage? Conyod decided it was best not to chance finding out.

He wanted to go to the sleeping room, to get as far from the other man as possible. But the way Erybet glared at him told Conyod he wasn’t going anywhere, not without a discussion first.

Swallowing hard, Conyod sank onto a lounger against one light-paneled wall. The greeting room wasn’t very big; just enough to entertain half a dozen guests comfortably. He sat in the area with the lounger and a table. Two raised chairs sat across from him. In one corner, a few seating cushions scattered around a smaller second table. Fur rugs covered the floor, creating a soft patchwork puzzle of whites, grays, browns, and blacks. On the far wall were framed portraits of the clan, portraits the talented Erybet himself had drawn.

Conyod felt himself cringing under Erybet’s livid stare and made himself sit up straight. He’d been completely out of line at dinner with his reticence, and it was time to make amends for his behavior. His “I’m sorry” was spoken with sincerity.

Erybet’s voice was a growl. “Give me one good reason why this one wasn’t acceptable to you.”

Rachel. Conyod bit his lip. Erybet wouldn’t understand. So Conyod went to the other reason, the one that was more plausible. The one his stubborn Dramok should understand but refused to.

“Maria was a perfectly lovely woman. But the state of this clan –”

Erybet slammed his glass on the polished blackwood top of the bar counter, cutting Conyod off. “Her presence might have fixed the state of this clan! Why won’t you acknowledge that? Damn it, Conyod, we only get two more chances at this! And it will be hard to find someone as good as Matara Maria!”

Hating the pleading tone coming out of his mouth but unable to stop it, Conyod said, “Our Nobek is in no condition to protect a Matara. He can’t even protect himself from himself!”

“Sletran needs focus. He needs a goal. Seeing to a Matara’s needs will give him the direction he needs.” Erybet was dogged in his belief that the Nobek’s natural protectiveness would fix everything, if only he had someone he could exercise that nature with.

Conyod knew better, and Erybet’s continued blindness to the real situation was making anger replace fear and contrition. He rose and stomped across the fur-covered floor to stand before his Dramok, returning glare for glare across the bar between them. “He needs therapy. Erybet, chopping his hair off with his knife is one step away from self-mutilation. Maybe even suicide!”

Erybet winced. He broke eye contact, his head bowing. “He would never do that. Not our Nobek.”

As his leader’s anger bled away, Conyod’s also diminished. “Not the old Sletran. But this one—” Conyod shuddered. “He’s not the same. Neither are you. You used to tell me everything. Both of you did. Why won’t you tell me what happened? You know I won’t talk, not even under torture.”

Erybet’s fists clenched. Opened. Clenched again. “This is different. We’re under orders from the highest command. We can’t speak of what our last mission was, or what happened on it. It’s just not possible.”

Anger surged once more in the face of the Dramok’s stubbornness. Conyod spat, “Is your Nobek’s life worth the secrecy? Because that’s what you’re gambling. If we lose him, and I find out I could have done something if you’d just told me, then I … I don’t think I could forgive you.”

Erybet slowly raised his head to look at him. His expression was blank. “I guess that’s a chance I’ll have to take then. I’m sorry, Conyod. I really am.”

With that, Erybet turned and left the room, leaving Conyod seething impotently. Again.

The Imdiko grabbed the bottle of bohut with a shaking hand. Drinking would not help matters one bit. He’d only wake in the morning with a pounding head and a still broken clan. But the siren song of forgetting for even a few hours was too much temptation to resist. He didn’t bother with a glass, tipping the bottle to his mouth and wincing against the fiery burn of liquor running down his throat.

Conyod walked back to the lounger and flopped onto its soft surface. He lifted the bottle and asked it, “Who gives a damn anymore? Me, that’s who.”

He drank until the bohut put him under, took him away from the bitter disappointment, fear, and heartbreak. He was unaware when the sleepless Erybet came back into the room.

The Dramok stared at his unconscious Imdiko for a few minutes, not bothering to wipe the silent tears that tracked down his face. At last Erybet sighed and came over to the lounger. His fingers brushed hair back from Conyod’s face, a face he’d adored since Sletran introduced them years ago. A face that looked at him with far too much despair and disappointment these days. And with good reason. Erybet had failed both his clanmates, had failed them utterly.

The Dramok gathered Conyod in his arms and picked the insensible Imdiko up. He carried Conyod to bed, pulling his clanmate’s boots and clothes off before drawing the covers over him. Erybet slid under the linens to lay next to him, watching Conyod sleep and praying to the ancestors that Sletran would come home safe. He thought he wouldn’t be able sleep himself until he knew the Nobek was all right. Yet weighty despair and exhaustion were enough that he drifted off within the hour.

Chapter 3

The self-styled Beast of New Bethlehem roamed the halls of the Matara complex, tracking the scent of the one who had caused such emotional pain tonight. It wasn’t enough that those like her had physically destroyed so many of his men. Had killed them outright. The devastation continued. Perhaps the bloodshed had ended, but the Earther women still annihilated Kalquorian men, this time through their hearts and souls.

He’d watched her tonight, though no one realized it. Had watched as she led on men that meant so much to him, men he’d die to protect. The disappointment on Erybet’s face had been gut wrenching when the capricious creature unfastened the beautiful necklace he’d presented her and handed it back.

The clan deserved so much better than the likes of this hateful woman, this monster that hid behind such a pleasing mask. And she … she should pay for humiliating them as she had. As she would, given the opportunity, humiliate the next clan and the next and the next.

She had to be stopped, and he was just the man to do it. He was the Beast of New Bethlehem, the destruction of the Earther destroyers.

He nodded to other Nobeks as he passed them, not worried that any would challenge him. He’d learned the turnover of those guarding the Earther women who resided in the complex was constant. Kalquor had gone to the lottery system in an effort to keep the playing field level as to the clans who could vie for a female. It was deemed necessary to regularly rotate out the security. It was unfair to unduly tempt Nobeks with females they may never be able to clan or give them an advantage over clans whose Nobeks were not assigned guard duty.

Not only that, his forged identification clearances were impeccable, their frequencies tuned correctly to allow him access where he would be expected to have it. A career and rank in the military had given him access into the compound’s security system, since it was run by the military. He posed as a mere sub-commander, someone not worth a second look by most. He didn’t worry over running into any of his men either; the few that had survived New Bethlehem and hadn’t committed suicide yet were on administrative leave due to the trauma they’d suffered.

He slowly wound his way up to the fourth floor of the western side of the complex. He’d followed his quarry’s scent to the transport. There, the aroma had been lost in the scents of so many others. It was no matter; he’d known he would probably lose her. It also didn’t concern him that using the computer system was out of the question since queries would be tracked, if not outright questioned by anyone seeing him performing them.

There were simpler ways to hunt his prey to her lair. Laughably simple.

He went into the laundry intake, where the Mataras sent their clothing to be cleaned through motorized chutes. It ran only during the day, ensuring he would meet no one who might question his activities. Most of it was automated anyway, with manual backups should the system fail. Even the manual stations were organized so the staff could identify exactly where an article of coded clothing had come from and return it to its rightful owner once it was laundered.

It was only a matter of walking past the bins, inhaling the aromas of perfumes, natural body oils, a potpourri of soaps and lotions. The scents of women made him achingly hard, but he ignored his body’s eager response. He would never take pleasure with one of the Earthers, not after what they’d done to him and those who meant so much to him. Never.

He’d gone a quarter of the length of the laundry when he caught wind of her particular musk and the cloying perfume she wore. He drew closer to the wall with its chute openings that vomited out the clothes of the Mataras. His sensitive nose flared wide, searching for the correct output.

There. Directly over his head, two openings up. That was hers.

He bent to the bin beneath that opening and immediately spied the dress she’d worn tonight, right on top of the pile waiting to be sent to the sorters. He grinned, his fangs descending from the roof of his mouth in anticipation of the kill. Oh, this was just too easy, especially for a Nobek with his cunning and experience in tracking the enemy.

Taking the dress to the manual code scanner immediately gave him all the information he needed. Maria Byrne, Eighth Floor, Room 98.

All that was left was to go to the cache he kept in the back of the laundry’s cavernous storage room. He donned a housekeeping uniform and grabbed a two-tiered hover cart that no one ever seemed to notice was in the wrong department. On top of the cart’s shelf were a myriad of cleaning solutions and implements on top of a long cloth that draped low, hiding the empty second shelf.

He left the laundry, entering the corridor. He paused as the hallway turned left, as he always did before entering a new space. After only a moment, he rounded the corner, his gaze flicking up to glance at the recording vid lens mounted on the ceiling.

The recorders gave him no worry. He didn’t even bother to hide his face from the round, black disk that was even now sending a message to the security monitors that the signal had been interrupted. It would come back on line as soon as he had passed out of its view. He’d successfully perfected the portable frequency distorter shortly after the attack. It would have brought him much income and prestige if he’d presented it to the military. Techs had been trying to develop such a device for years without success.

He couldn’t turn it over, not when there was so much good he could do with it.

A brief ride in the transport and short walk down the eighth floor’s hall brought him to Matara Maria’s door. He stood in the corridor, empty at the dark hours of morning, and listened. His sharp ears discerned nothing behind the door; no music, no movement, no sound. He thought perhaps she had gone to bed, laughing to herself over how she’d dashed the hopes of three men and planning for the next clan.

He reached into his stolen uniform’s pocket and took out the device that would search out the door lock’s frequency and interrupt it. Not even a second later, the catch made its distinctive low-toned trill, indicating the door had been unlocked.

The Beast took one last look around to ensure there were no witnesses before stepping into the apartment, bringing in the hover cart and locking the door behind him.

He let his eyes adjust to the quarters’ darkness. Apparently, the Matara had gone to bed, because Earther eyes wouldn’t see much in the gloom. Kalquorian eyes saw much better.

The Beast shook his head. Kalquorians had the more sensitive senses, were stronger, and more technologically advanced. Yet the Earthers had come close to winning the war, and they continued to do damage. It made no sense. Nothing did anymore.

The room he’d stepped into combined dining and sitting areas. Small, but definitely functional. The furnishings weren’t extravagant, but Maria lacked for nothing. Computer, vids, and a com that would instantly give her access to an operator at the complex’s central control, and thus anything her little devious heart might wish for.

Leaving the housekeeping cart in the main living area, the interloper made his silent way into the sleeping room. There was a three-way mirror in one corner, along with a table topped by a couple of framed pictures of the young lady with an older couple. Parents, perhaps, probably long dead. The time had come for a family reunion.

He looked at the girl sleeping soundly in the middle of the sleeping mat. Her face was so sweet and innocent in slumber. They were all lovely, these Earther females. It pissed him off that such beauty concealed the monsters they truly were.

He crept close and inhaled her sweet, musky scent. She’d washed the choking miasma of cologne from her body, thank the ancestors. He stood over her, hard and aching to sink his cocks into her warmth, to be absorbed in her softness. That she could trick his body made him hate her and the others like her all the more. He would never let their surface beauty fool him again.

The Beast covered Maria’s mouth. Her eyes were just fluttering open when he buried his fangs in her throat. She made a choked sound. She struggled against him, and he grew harder than ever. He held her down easily, enjoying how her efforts grew more feeble as the seconds ticked by until her body was completely lax beneath him. Another several seconds, and she sank into unconsciousness.

He kept the intoxicant flowing into her a little longer, making sure she was totally under. At last he released the bite, picked her limp form up, and carried her out to the main living area of the quarters.

He swept aside the cloth hiding the lower shelf of the cart. He tied and arranged her body carefully so that she wouldn’t shift and reveal herself to any passersby as he took her out. Satisfied, he let the cloth conceal his prize and moved the cart around the room to be sure she remained secured.

It looked perfect. No one would ever guess a person was hidden inside.

The Beast opened the door to the corridor and waited a moment to let the security recorder lose transmission. Then he went out, escorting the cart with its cargo.

Minutes later, he had her in his personal shuttle and was taking her to his special place, the place where he could punish her for her misdeeds and then pass final judgment. As he raced through the night, he allowed himself to laugh out loud. He was doing the Empire proud, making amends for the losses Kalquor had suffered.

* * * *

Rachel was surprised but delighted when Conyod stopped by her room earlier than their usually scheduled session. In fact, she’d only finished her breakfast when he showed up. She switched off her computer immediately, hoping she’d remember the new Kalquorian words and phrases she’d been working on. Then she fought to keep from running across the room to the Imdiko, to fling her arms around him. She was as goofy as a teenager in love seeing him smile as he closed the door behind himself. And though his eyes seemed more shadowed than ever, he was still the best vision a woman could hope for.

She thought he sounded hopeful as he said, “Good morning, Ray-Ray.”

Her voice wasn’t as raspy and weak as it had been last night. Her surgeon had given her vocal exercises, exercises that had been useless when she couldn’t get a single word past her clogged throat. Being able to speak in Kalquorian had changed the game however, and she’d practiced last night with newfound will. She returned her therapist’s greeting with pride. “Ibo dug, Conyod.”

His grin lit his entire face and he took a few steps towards her, stopping an arm’s length away. “If you only knew how good it is to hear you speak.”

She typed on her handheld, wishing she was fluent in Kalquorian. With her heart in her throat, she asked, How was your appointment? She couldn’t bring herself to call it a date.

Conyod’s smile slipped, and he looked a little ill. “Not very good. The Matara rejected us.”

Rachel debated whether she should extend her sympathies, but she didn’t like to lie. So she opted to skip any further discussion of the subject. Conyod didn’t appear eager to talk about it anyway.

Govi says I might join the lottery very soon. She hesitated, then in a flurry of typing asked, Do you think perhaps your clanmates would consider me? Would YOU consider me? Conyod read the words, and his smile returned. Heaven and earth, she loved it when he smiled.

He said, “Nothing would make me happier. As for Sletran and Erybet…” He considered. A shadow passed over his face, and he seemed to struggle with an inward debate. Finally he added, “I think perhaps they would. They were very impressed with you. But Ray-Ray, I am your doctor and this might be frowned upon. It’s not unheard of for patients to fixate on their therapists because they feel gratitude or a sense of obligation.”

His expression seemed to beg her to negate this idea. She was more than ready to do just that. He stepped closer so he could read over her shoulder as she typed, as if he couldn’t wait one second for her answer.

I know my own mind. I know it very well. While I am grateful, I do not feel obligation. I feel—

She stopped typing and looked up into Conyod’s big, beautiful purple eyes. She dropped the handheld on the nearby table, turned, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Everything inside went soft and warm as she felt the strength of his body against hers. Sure, she was fixated, but it was love. As sure as she was standing here, the front of her body plastered to the front of his, she was in love. She stood on her tiptoes and moved her lips over his.

Conyod’s arms wrapped around her back, and happiness surged. His tongue flicked over her mouth, and she opened so that it could dive deep, tasting her and allowing her to taste back. His flavor was fresh and bright, and she wound her tongue about his to take as much as he would give her.

The thorough kiss he gifted Rachel with sent arousal surging to her lower parts. She couldn’t help but move against him, needy and starved for more. The hardness that pressed against her belly told her Conyod’s appetite was just as great for contact. His hands slipped down to cup her buttocks and hold her so he could grind hard against her.

A scent that reminded her of cinnamon rose between them. Previous experience with the Kalquorian who had rescued her from Earth told her this was the smell of arousal for the alien race. The aroma excited her, and she enthusiastically rubbed against the Imdiko, matching him for ardor.

Their mouths parted, and they gasped for breath, staring into each others’ eyes. Conyod’s voice was rough with emotion as he told her, “My entire day is wrapped around seeing you. I can’t wait to come to work in the morning, and I dread going home and leaving you at night. Every moment I’m not with you, I wonder what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, if I’m on your mind at all.”

She answered, “Vofrek.” Always.

Conyod’s eyes went bright and he kissed her again. Rachel’s body was in full riot. She wanted more. She wanted it all. She moved against him demandingly.

He groaned and ended the kiss. “We should stop.”

Rachel spoke the sentence she’d practiced harder than any other. In Kalquorian she said, “Make love to me. Please.”

She put her hand right on Conyod’s groin, feeling the hard strength of his need. Her hand slipped under his tunic and dove down the front of his pants. The other hand dragged the startled Imdiko’s waistband down far enough to set his twin set of cocks free.

So big. So beautiful. So eager for her, his members just a bit darker than the rest of his skin and glistening with his own natural lubricant. Eased by the slipperiness of his juices, Rachel wrapped her hands around both tapered lengths and rubbed from the tips to their roots.

Conyod was openmouthed with stunned arousal. For several seconds he simply stood there, his already large eyes incredibly wide as he watched her work his flesh. Then a low, rumbling growl rolled from his chest. Abruptly he snatched her off her feet, picking her up and carrying her to her sleeping mat.

He laid her down and jerked her hospital gown up, exposing her from the neck down. Rachel wore panties, too plain and too big to be sexy, she thought. But her utilitarian underwear had nothing to do with why she closed her eyes, suddenly too afraid to look at the expression on Conyod’s face.

Most of the scars from the torture she’d endured were gone. In fact, only two remained on the front of her torso. One was a thin, raised line that curved from her breastbone to three inches shy of her right hip. The other was a indented, jagged series of three strokes on her left ribcage. It looked as if the legendary swordsman Zorro had monogrammed her for himself.

They were the remnants of more vicious scars. The underlying tissue had been too badly damaged for the talented surgeons of Kalquor to completely erase the effects of the torture she’d endured. But they’d managed to correct the pigmentation so that the marks matched the surrounding skin. Same with the three remaining scars on her back and the one on her left buttock.

But she was still disfigured. Still damaged.

“Ray-Ray, look at me.”

She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see the disgust on Conyod’s face. Or worse, his sympathy.

“Open your eyes, my love.”

The words were sweet, but the tone was pure command. Rachel’s eyes popped open to look at the man crouched over her.

Conyod’s expression was deadly serious. “Do not hide from me like that. There is no reason. These—” he ran his fingers over the ribcage scar, then the longer one, “—these cannot mask your beauty. They only serve to enhance your perfection.”

Rachel swallowed. He must really love her, to see past those hideous marks. Only a man in love could see the woman beyond such disfigurement. Tears of gratitude spilled from her eyes, especially when she saw he was still hard, still eager for her body.

She reached up, tugged at his tunic. He swept it off over his head then tugged his pants further down his thighs.

Heaven and earth, he was gorgeous. Kalquorian bodies had a natural inclination to be muscular, and Conyod was no exception. His broad chest seemed made of granite. His shoulders were wide and sculpted. Rachel had put on weight in the year that she’d been on Kalquor, going from not much more than a stick figure to rounded, almost plump. Lying beneath the chiseled heft of Conyod had her feeling like an insubstantial waif again. And though she trusted him with all her being, seeing him loom over her like a lustful god made part of her afraid. That fear made things inside tumble around, exciting her even more.

He clutched the front of her too-sensible panties in his fist and slowly, slowly pulled them down her legs. His eyes darkened as he looked upon her naked sex, at the soft froth of black curls between her legs. His breath caught, and he emitted a groan. Now that he was looking at that part of her, the part that had been spared the interrogators’ cruelties, she was able to relax a little. Especially since there was nothing but heat and want in his eyes.

“Ah, Matara,” Conyod breathed. It almost sounded like a sob. He freed her ankles of the underpants, tossing the thin fabric aside. He bent down close, inhaling her scent with what appeared to be profound pleasure.

She groaned and grabbed at him, sinking her fingers into his thick black hair and dragging his face towards her neediness. His gaze slowly rolled up to stare into her face. The look was almost feral, like that of an alpha wolf challenging his mate for dominance. Rachel’s mouth went dry, and her pussy clenched in excited reaction. What was it about seeing a dangerous animal lurking within her kind therapist that got her so aroused?

Her hands fluttered away from him, and she parted her thighs in acquiescence. Held her breath. Waited to see what he would do to her.

Conyod took a deep, shuddering breath. “My apologies, Ray-Ray. Kalquorians are very domineering, especially where sex is concerned. Dramoks and Nobeks are much more dominant than Imdikos, so I don’t usually get to be the forceful member of my clan. Because you are smaller and physically weaker … well, I’m having trouble keeping my assertive instincts under control.”

Now, that was interesting. Rachel had been forced at a young age to assume responsibility for her mother after her father’s death. It had provided her plenty of strength to survive the trials that came later, and she’d often taken the lead sexually with her beloved Marcus. As satisfying as she’d found sex with her long-lost lover, she’d wished he’d taken control more often. She’d fantasized about being ravished by an authoritative male, of being bent to a powerful man’s will too many times to count.

Rachel licked her lips. She had the opportunity to make those fantasies come true, it seemed. But if she gave Conyod all the control, would he go too far? She was undoubtedly more fragile than the females of his kind. And he was very, very strong.

Somehow the risk was making her want his dominion even more. She was sure there was a puddle under her butt now. Niagara Falls has nothing on me, she thought.

Barely able to breathe in her mingled anxiety and need, she slowly, carefully mouthed, I trust you. Be strong.

A tremor ran through Conyod’s entire body. His pupils had swallowed almost the entirety of his irises and a pair of long, rattlesnake-like fangs appeared behind his blunter, human teeth. The thrill of terror that raced through Rachel was so strong she experienced a mini-orgasm. The jolt of pleasure forced a moan from her lips.

Conyod answered the sound and musky wash of moisture from her core with a low growl. His gaze never leaving her face, his hand cupped her left thigh. His grip slowly slid up until he grasped the back of her knee. He bent her leg up. Opened his mouth wide and pressed those thin fangs to her upper thigh’s skin so that it dimpled. Rachel’s eyes felt like they would bug right out of her head as he applied pressure.

Do it.

The teeth punctured her flesh, sending bright pain to make her jerk instinctively. Conyod held her leg still, sinking those fangs deep into the muscle, penetrating her. Rachel barked a sob, but she didn’t attempt to pull away. Instead, she made herself accept the bit of torment.

It was over in only a moment, something in his saliva an antidote to pain. She panted in reaction however, the exquisite instant of agony a bright counterpoint to the pleasure of having his mouth on her, so close to where it would feel best.

A sweet wash of euphoria seeped through her body and mind. Kalquorian intoxicant, delivered through their hollow fangs, was potent stuff. A bite made the recipient relaxed and acquiescent. Inject enough, and the victim could be rendered unconscious. The Kalquorians used it on lovers and enemies alike.

Rachel was floating when Conyod released the bite. He smiled, and her every cell warmed under his regard. “Now you’ll enjoy giving up control.”

I was ready to give it to you anyway, she thought. But this was very, very nice. Her body hummed happily, though it ached for his more than ever.

Conyod’s grin spread over his face, and she saw dark promise in his intent. She whimpered, her pelvis jerking upward in need.

“Don’t worry, lovely little Ray-Ray,” he said. “I will take such good care of you.”

His hand still gripped the back of her knee, and he lifted her leg over one of those great, broad shoulders. Then he grasped her other leg to settle it over the opposite shoulder. She was wide open now, and his face was right there, so close that she could feel his breath on her nether lips.

“You smell of the seaside during a rainstorm,” Conyod told her. “It is a most delicious scent, my Ray-Ray. I am going to taste you, and you are going to let me.”

Rachel jerked a nod. Oh yes. She’d definitely allow him to do that.

His lips were parted as he descended down to her trembling flesh. He spread her open with calloused fingertips. She had a moment to wonder how a doctor had gotten such rough skin. Conyod’s eyes closed and his tongue peeked out just before the lower part of his face was lost to sight.

The wet, scratchy flesh spread over her more tender sex. It slowly lapped up her parted nether lips, intent on catching every drop of her flowing juices. Rachel groaned from the tips of her toes, which waved in the air over Conyod’s head. The sound became a wavering cry as the wicked tongue moved up and up, nearing her clit. The Kalquorian’s mouth closed on that throbbing morsel, and he sucked hard. Sensation rocketed through her belly and shot up her spine. She arched against him.

Conyod’s grip slammed her back down to the mat surface. He kept her pinned flat as he licked and sucked and shoved his tongue into her core, devouring her like a starved animal. Rachel kicked the air wildly, her fists slamming against the bed’s soft surface as blistering heat built higher and higher. She was going to come quickly, too quickly if he didn’t stop.

But Conyod showed no inclination of halting his gorgeous assault. Ignoring her agonized cries, his mouth was demanding, voracious, insistent. No amount of writhing or pulling at his hair blanketing her lower belly deterred his feeding. Lips, teeth, and tongue conspired to tie her in ever tightening knots, bringing pleasure so acute it was almost painful. The soft, gentle intoxication of his bite faded in her massive need for release.

The orgasm was on its way now, stampeding with such force that Rachel was actually fearful it would rip her apart. She doubled her efforts to escape the brutal ecstasy that closed in on her, but Conyod’s insistent pleasuring would not stop. His fingers joined in the fray, two pressing deep into her pussy, moving easily in the slickness of copious moisture. She groaned to feel a part of him inside, plunging in and out of her channel. Then he found the bit that made every hair on her body stand at attention. Rachel had a moment to gasp before her world shattered.

Climax roared through her, a huge wallop of sensation punctuated by brighter slivers of excruciating delight. She was dimly aware of thrashing helplessly, of Conyod continuing to hold her down, of his fingers moving from her pussy to her anus, one plunging into the tighter orifice. Then she was off again, her body reacting automatically to a pleasure held taboo on Earth, one she’d joyfully engaged in with relish whenever possible.

Thinking that sex with the doubly endowed Kalquorian guaranteed she’d be indulged in rear-entry pleasures brought Rachel one more time.

The pulses of orgasm slowed, leaving her heaving for breath, utterly limp and wasted. She didn’t even have the strength to open her eyes for a few moments. Conyod’s evil, wonderful mouth finally left her flesh, though he continued to gently ply her ass with a thick finger, which was presently joined by a second. They pressed in and out rhythmically. He was stretching her, readying her body for his. She couldn’t have been more relaxed. The monstrous spasms of release had waned to warm, tender pulses. She glowed under the Imdiko’s care.

She was finally able to part her eyelids. Her legs were still slung over Conyod’s shoulders. His chin rested on her lower belly, and he watched her come around with a smile that drifted between amusement and adoration.

“Your eyes are very dilated,” he observed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more relaxed or content.”

Rachel sighed. She had no power to do otherwise.

Conyod chuckled. “We’ve only just begun, my little lovely. I’ve imagined our first encounter so many times, and I know exactly what I want to do to you. Having you unable to resist makes it all the more exciting for me.”

Rachel could only lay motionless as he rose on all fours, his eyes dark with desire. She watched, her breath stilled in anticipation.

Conyod’s fingers working in and out of her never lost their rhythm as his face descended again, this time zeroing in on her navel. He mouthed the indentation, his tongue dipping in. Rachel had tensed, thinking the touch would tickle, but instead it made her warm inside all over again.

The Imdiko moved up her torso, his mouth kissing and licking and gently biting its way higher. The fangs were gone, and the little nips he gave her … well, the sensation confused Rachel. She couldn’t call them comfortable, though he wasn’t really hurting her either. They were definitely an exciting part of his play over her body. Damned if she wasn’t getting wet all over again. Maybe it was the intoxicant making her enjoy the rougher treatment? Or perhaps it was all part of his domination that she found so erotic. She wasn’t sure what was turning her on after the incredible orgasm she’d already had. But that she was newly aroused could not be denied.

Rachel wondered how far Conyod would take it. The thought that he might push her boundaries even further sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through her. She tensed a little, bringing her awareness of his fingers working her butt to the fore again. The tight ring of her sphincter sizzled with a little pain, and she made herself relax.

The Kalquorian arrived at the underside of one breast. With her legs still draped over his shoulders, her knees were nearly up to her ears. She was rolled up nice and neat, barely able to wiggle. The sensation of being helpless got her insides churning more enthusiastically than ever. The angle meant Conyod was having a harder time fingering her backside, and she felt regret as he pulled free of her there.

His tongue worked to make up for the loss. It scraped along the crease where it met her ribcage. He mouthed his way up to her nipple, which already stood at eager attention. His teeth dragged over the pebbled flesh, and Rachel’s body erupted in goosebumps.

“Affirmative reactions to rougher handling,” he said, as if giving a clinical diagnosis. Conyod’s eyes were still very dark and his voice carried an undercurrent of rumbling, like it was made of far-off thunder. He kissed the stiffened peak of her breast like the gentlest of lovers. Rachel’s insides felt as if they were melting, and she released tension with a sigh.

“Tender use is also met positively. One wonders how the subject will react to both at the same time.”

Rachel wondered that too. She licked her lips and stared into her doctor’s eyes.

Conyod’s fingers closed over her other nipple. He pinched the tip as he suckled sweetly on its twin. A twinge of discomfort darted from where his fingertips held her flesh like a padded vise while pleasure swelled from the gentle suction of his mouth.

His head pulled back, stretching her breast with it until it emerged from his mouth with excruciating delight. He released his grip on her other nipple and eased the slight ache with a kiss.

“More?” he asked.

Rachel’s body baked in the heat of his gaze. Yes, she wanted more. She wanted him to push her as far as she could stand. She was also frightened of how much she wanted to be pushed.

Conyod’s intent look softened a bit. “Ray-Ray, I want to give you what I think you need. What we both need. I might test your comfort levels, but only if you let me.”

His hand left her breast to caress her cheek. She pressed into the warmth of his palm.

I love Conyod. I trust him. So why am I hesitating? Because I’m scared. Scared of disappointing him, of hurting him. I’ve hurt so many already. Marcus’ handsome, smiling face arose in her mind’s eye.

Heaven and earth, how she’d let him down. And now he was dead, and she’d never get to say she was sorry.

Rachel shuddered. It would be so easy to withdraw, to huddle in a corner and refuse to come out, to never take a chance at love again. She’d hidden away from it all back on Earth after Armageddon, too scared to venture out until someone had come in after her. A kind, young Kalquorian had shown her there was still something good to be had. After that, she’d resolved to not let fear keep her from life.

Fear would not rule her ever again. Not even the terror of what lay in her own heart.

Rachel swallowed. She looked into Conyod’s ever-patient face, no annoyance at her delay showing anywhere on his expression. She slowly nodded and raised her arms to lie over her head in a submissive gesture.

She said another phrase she’d worked on last night. “Yof dif.” I am yours.

Conyod smiled. “Thank you, my Ray-Ray.”

He bent back to her breasts. The hand that had pinched earlier now caressed, the calloused pads rubbing with delightful gentleness. It was his mouth that held Rachel’s attention, however. She tensed as his teeth closed over her vulnerable nipple this time. Pressure. A sliver of pain. The bite was gentle, not even enough to leave a mark. And the smart was powerfully exciting. When he released her, she thrust the throbbing flesh up towards his mouth again.

Conyod chuckled, and the sound was gorgeously evil. “Definite positive reaction to the pleasure and pain dynamic. Now let’s see how you like this.”

His mouth went to the other breast this time, his hand molding it to fit as much as possible inside. He sucked hard, as if he’d devour the entire mound. There were teeth again, pressing firmly against her flesh. He dragged them all the way to the tip as he painfully released the breast.

Rachel’s breath came in gasps. Again, Conyod had not broken the skin, had not added marks to her already marred body. It had hurt this time, really hurt. She was clutching the sleeping mat over her head in handfuls in reaction. It had been the only way to not try to push him off.

But damn, it had aroused the hell out of her too. Knowing he’d held back when he could do so much more, that he was careful to not inflict real damage while letting her know who was in charge … wow. Fucking grade-A incredible.

Conyod had paused and watched her closely. “More?” he asked.

For an answer, Rachel twisted her body slightly, offering him the other breast. Damn straight she wanted more. She wanted it all.

“Let’s see how you respond to being controlled along with the pain.”

He reached up and wrapped his hand around her wrists, pinning them in a firm grip. She’d already been pretty much at his mercy with her feet and ass in the air, her body immobile beneath his weight. Now she was utterly helpless, with no defenses left.

I wish I could show those fools back on Earth what I’m letting this guy do to me. They thought I was rebellious before. They had no idea.

Conyod filled his mouth with her other breast, and made it throb like he had the first with those wonderfully cruel teeth. Rachel’s head tossed from side to side, her body a riot of arousal and agony. As soon as his mouth left her flesh, he searched her face.

“Still good, my lovely?”

So good, you big, strong beast of a man. Don’t you dare stop. She tried to communicate the message with her eyes.

Some of it must have gotten through, because his expression warmed. “Could you be any more perfect, Ray-Ray?” he whispered.

Conyod moved up to catch her lips with his. The shift brought her butt completely off the sleeping mat, putting her weight on her upper back. The Imdiko’s hard lengths settled against her pussy, and she groaned to feel him right there. She tried to wriggle against him in an effort to rub her needy flesh all over his, but she couldn’t move.

His kiss was demanding, hungry. Rachel moaned at the assertive, almost aggressive way he devoured her mouth, his tongue sweeping in to declare her his. She was being claimed.

Conyod broke the kiss and stared into her eyes. “Are you ready for me, my love?”

His cocks throbbed with his pulse, hot and eager against her. Rachel thought of how endowed he was and how ruthless he’d already been. Her lower parts convulsed in nervous anticipation. She nodded.

Conyod’s gaze never left her face as he reached down. He shifted slightly, not enough to let Rachel move from her vulnerable position, but enough so that he could arrange his cocks to enter her pussy and anus. The tapered tips slid inside her just a bit, and her breath caught.

At last. He was finally going to fuck her.

“Relax. Deep breaths. Let me in,” he said.

Pressure built against her openings as Conyod pushed against her. His cocks slipped in, aided by their combined wetness. Both Rachel’s sheaths started to ache as the Kalquorian grew thicker towards the base of his organs. He was so big!

“Almost, Ray-Ray. Just a bit more. Take it, lovely. Take it all.”

She clenched her fists, trying to channel all the tension there, forcing her lower parts to remain soft and accepting. Conyod pressed in steadily, not too fast but not letting up for an instant either. Pushing her to surrender to him.

“Don’t fight it. Give yourself over. Submit to me.”

Rachel wanted to and battled to make herself pliant. She groaned as the ache of accepting him grew. It was almost pain, but he was rubbing really sensitive parts too, parts that felt as good as taking that incredible girth hurt.

An excruciating blast of sensation burst through Rachel’s belly, and she seized up. That brought real pain, particularly from her stretched anus, and she cried out. Conyod stroked her cheek gently.

“Easy, Ray-Ray. I bumped your cervix. Relax, pretty girl. Relax and let yourself adjust to me.”

Rachel whimpered, but she tried to make her body go limp. It wasn’t easy to do so, but by degrees the tension slid away. The blast of agony dulled to a throb.

Conyod held absolutely still as she recovered. “Deep breaths. That’s my girl.”

Discomfort eased to where desire returned. Rachel breathed as she was told and considered the situation.

Conyod still held her wrists over her head. Her knees were at her ears. Her ass was in the air with the weight of the big Kalquorian pinning her down. She had a huge cock buried in her pussy and a smaller, but still sizeable one up her ass. All things considered, it had turned into a pretty good day.

Rachel nodded to her lover. She was okay again. Better than okay.

The corner of his lips twitched up. “You feel amazing to me. So tight and warm. I love being inside you. It’s better than I ever imagined.”

She smiled at him. She wished more than ever she was able to tell him what was in her heart … if she even had the words for the enormity of her emotions.

Conyod planted his free hand next to her shoulder. He shifted and slowly eased his hips back. Her passages gave up his cocks grudgingly, and a growl trickled from his lips.

“By the ancestors, you’re snug! I don’t know how I’m supposed to last.” He shook his head. “You’ve got me as ready to come as if I were a virgin with his first.”

Rachel was glad to know he found her so exciting. It gave her a rush of badly needed confidence. And it raised her own level of arousal.

Conyod pushed into her again. Rachel was ready for that heady bump of him finding her end this time, but she still tightened when that splash of ecstasy cascaded through her belly. She was getting stretched however, and the smart she got from reacting this time added to the excitement rather than killing her groove. Oh yes, this was very, very wonderful.

Conyod’s movements started slow but steady, moving in and out, sending mighty waves of excitement through her body. The darts of him bumping the end of her made her insides seem to swell with the most excruciating delights she’d known. The Imdiko’s pace quickened as she continued to adjust to him. Rachel’s every breath came in a high-pitched cry.

“That’s it, Ray-Ray. That’s right, my lovely.” Conyod gasped with every breath. His hips pounded against hers, the sound whip-cracking loud. Rachel’s head swam with the feel of him moving through her flesh, driving into her over and over, plunging against all the best places in both passages.

“Feel me ... inside you. Feel ... me taking ... you.” He spoke in bestial grunts. His eyes were nearly black with the pupils overwhelming the blue-purple irises. His fangs were out again, making him more animal than man. The look of carnal need on his face brought Rachel right to the brink of orgasm. Conyod was beastlike in his lust and she turned primal in her response to him. She strained against the hands pinning her, against his weight holding her to the sleeping mat like an anchor. He slammed into her, and she felt the climax breaking loose. Almost there. Almost there. Rachel’s teeth ground together, and her lips pulled away from them in a snarl. A feral, grating sound scraped through her throat.

Conyod answered with his own growl. “Yes. Come. Come right now!”

As if his command was what she’d been waiting for, Rachel’s orgasm unraveled in fraying streams, flying apart from her belly. She voiced a strangled scream from between her clenched teeth.

Conyod’s mouth flew wide open. His eyes closed and his back bowed, plunging him deep inside her. His hands tightened on her wrists. A groan rumbled his entire body, and Rachel felt a strong pulse within her sheaths. He was coming, filling her with his seed, pouring his essence inside to become part of her. Another climax ripped through her, and she cried out again.

Conyod strained against her for several moments before slowly collapsing. He carefully brought Rachel’s legs down to straddle his waist before rolling over onto his side and taking her with him. He rained gentle kisses all over her face.

“What have you done?” he groaned. “There is no way I can live without you now. I will do everything possible to make you part of my clan and pray neither of us regrets it.”

Rachel smiled. Conyod was back to being complicated, exhibiting both euphoria and worry all at once. Nevertheless, she’d made the right choice in pushing her want for him. And she’d make sure there were no regrets this time. Conyod would learn soon enough she’d move Heaven and Kalquor for him.

Chapter 4

Erybet hurried into the greeting room to answer the door. He couldn’t imagine who might be calling. He and Sletran hadn’t been very sociable since their return from the war, outside of being tapped for official functions and chasing disinterested Mataras.

He reached the door and said, “Identify?”

A polite voice answered. “Officers Breft and Raxstad of Global Security.”

Global Security? Something must have happened in the complex. On the heels of that thought came a nagging familiarity of the two names spoken.

“Please enter,” Erybet said.

The door slid open, and indeed he had two Nobeks wearing red-trimmed Global Security formsuits on his doorstep. Their stances were casual, but Erybet didn’t miss that their hands rested on their belts, where blades and blasters were holstered.

What was going on? Did it have something to do with New Bethlehem?

Erybet stepped back and indicated they should enter. They did so, the smaller of the two coming in first. He wore the insignia of high rank, though Erybet wasn’t familiar enough with Global Security to know the man’s title. He was slightly shorter than Conyod, and absolutely dwarfed by his thickly muscled, dreadlocked companion. Still there was barely restrained ferocity in the lead officer’s demeanor. Erybet had no doubt the lean-framed Nobek was extremely dangerous to his foes. And he knew he’d seen both men’s faces before, though he still couldn’t place either of them.

“Officers, how may I be of service?”

Sletran chose that moment to enter the room, his hair damp from his shower. Erybet’s clanmate looked not the least refreshed, the shadows under his eyes pronounced. Still, Sletran’s protectiveness came to the fore seeing two unknown Nobeks in the room, and four steps had him between them and Erybet. With him wearing a sleeveless top and short pants nearly identical to Erybet’s, it was apparent Sletran’s muscles had tensed. “Erybet?” he said.

The officers eyed Sletran carefully, though they didn’t react to his response to them. He was a Nobek, after all, and he had come upon them confronting his Dramok in his home.

The smaller officer bowed his head slightly. “You are Dramok Erybet and Nobek Sletran?”

Erybet stepped a little to one side so he could see them over Sletran’s shoulder. “We are.”

The bigger one with the massive shoulders spoke next. His tone was a touch less formal than his superior’s, almost friendly. “And your Imdiko I take it is at work at the hospital?”

“Yes.” Erybet had a sudden stab of fear. Had something happened to Conyod?

The big Nobek offered a slight smile. “My Dramok is Govi. He has the highest praise for Dr. Conyod.”

Erybet’s tension fled, and his clanmate visibly relaxed. Sletran said, “Nobek Raxstad.” He looked at the other officer. “And you are Breft, Nobek of Councilman Rajhir. We attended the diplomatic affair for the Joshadan ambassador several months ago. You were there.”

Breft nodded. “Yes. It is good to see you both again.” His tone was still formal, but less so.

Sletran moved aside, no longer on alert. Erybet moved to stand beside him. He felt a little better now that he had a handle on who his unexpected guests were. But why they were here still had him on edge. “Is there a problem at the hospital? Has something happened to my Imdiko?”

“Not at all, at least not to my knowledge. I apologize if our appearance gave you that concern.”

All right, so maybe it was something to do with New Bethlehem. Erybet felt better that Conyod was all right, at least.

“Please sit down, officers,” he invited, gesturing to the seating. “Something to drink? Water, a protein juice—”

“No, thank you, Dramok.” Breft settled himself on the lounger, and Raxstad perched a couple of feet beside him.

Erybet and Sletran took the raised chairs across from them. The Dramok looked at the officers questioningly.

Breft said, “We have a few questions for your clan regarding a Matara named Maria Byrne.”

Erybet blinked in surprise. “Matara Maria? We had an appointment with her last night. We’ve come up on the lottery, and she was our third prospect.”

“Did she stay here with you for any length of time following your appointment?”

Erybet’s face heated. Keeping his voice steady, he answered, “No. I am sad to say she felt my clan was not compatible with her requirements. Our meeting started and ended with dinner at the Taste of Home establishment.” He just managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but his gaze drifted to the table between him and the officers. The gift box with the necklace Maria had given back sat there like an accusation.

He looked back at Breft and Raxstad in time to see them exchange a glance. He asked, “I trust she is well?”

The two men considered him for a few silent seconds. It was Raxstad who answered. “That’s hard to say, Dramok. She is missing. There is evidence she was taken from her apartment last night by a person or persons unknown.”

Erybet gasped. Sletran leaned forward in his seat, his expression sharp. “Another abduction by the resistance?”

Breft shrugged. “Perhaps. How did you feel about her rejection of your clan?”

Erybet was stunned at the question. They thought his clan had kidnapped a Matara? Then he relaxed. They were only investigating Maria’s whereabouts, trying to look at it from every possible angle. He and his clanmates had nothing to hide where the missing Matara was concerned.

“We were disappointed, of course. I thought she had potential for our clan. I assure you, we had nothing to do with her disappearance.”

Sletran added, “You are more than welcome to search our home, officers.”

Raxstad held up a hand and shook his head. “I doubt that’s necessary at this point. We are simply trying to cover all ground in our attempts to find her. As you know, these abductions are a very high priority for Global Security.”

His gaze still sharp on them, Breft asked, “What have you heard about the rebellion?”

Erybet shrugged. “Just what the news vids report. Something like two dozen Earther women kidnapped or missing, that someone calling himself The Boot may be behind the disappearances.”

Raxstad’s voice was very soft. “What if we were to tell you some of the missing have been found dead?”

Erybet’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in a stunned gasp. Sletran, too much of a Nobek to give his emotions away that overtly, went completely still beside him. Neither of them said a word. They only stared at the two officers in horror.

All the tension bled from Breft’s body. He nodded. “I’m sorry I had to tell you that, but I needed to see how you would react. We were only able to mention it to you because of your high security clearances with the military. You are not to repeat that information.”

Feeling unreal, Erybet whispered, “Of course. You have our complete cooperation.”

Raxstad asked, “Where did you go after your appointment with Matara Maria?”

“We saw her to a shuttle that was to take her back to the Matara compound. Then we came straight home.”

Raxstad told them, “Vid recorders show she did return to her apartment safely. You went nowhere else last night?”

Before Erybet could answer, Sletran said, “No. We came home and that was it.”

Erybet felt a jolt of surprise, but he said nothing to refute his Nobek. He wondered why Sletran would lie. Sletran had gone for a walk, and though the Dramok had tried to stay awake until he got home, he’d fallen asleep next to Conyod. Erybet hadn’t seen Sletran until this morning when Conyod’s waking alarm had roused all three from bed.

Breft’s questions continued as Erybet’s thoughts swirled. “You saw nothing amiss during your appointment? No one paying special attention to you or the Matara?”

Again Sletran answered. “Not at all. Having been a group commander, it is habit for me to keep watch on my surroundings. I would have noticed anyone lurking around like that.”

Breft rose to his feet, and Raxstad followed suit. “Not necessarily, Nobek Sletran. Not if the kidnapper was trying to remain unseen.”

Erybet and Sletran also stood and followed the officers to the door. Breft turned to them. “Thank you for your time. If you would, please mention this matter to your Imdiko, minus the secured information we shared with you. If he happens to have any information, no matter how inconsequential it may seem, have him contact us.”

Erybet nodded. “Absolutely.” With feeling he added, “I hope you find Matara Maria safe and sound. She is a very lovely woman.”

Breft and Raxstad took their leave. Erybet stared at the closed door for a few moments, trying to wrap his head around the situation. And Sletran’s falsehood preyed on his mind. He turned to see his Nobek about to exit the room, heading into the quarters’ private areas.

“Why did you lie, Sletran?”

The question stopped his clanmate in his tracks. Sletran turned to face Erybet, his expression one of genuine surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“You went for a walk after we returned. You didn’t come home until after I was asleep.”

The Nobek stared at him. His brows drew together. “I – I did?”

Erybet stepped close to his clanmate. Sletran looked utterly confused … and was that a flash of fear in his eyes?

Not sure he wanted an answer, Erybet asked, “Where were you last night?”

Sletran swallowed. “I thought I was here. I remember getting off the shuttle. You were angry and Conyod was withdrawn. We were heading for the in-house transport…” his words died off. He seemed to struggle.

Erybet’s heart thumped painfully. He said, “You said you were going for a walk on the beach.”

Sletran refused to meet his eyes. “I don’t remember that.”

Erybet grabbed the other man’s chin. “Look at me, Sletran. Where did you go?”

The Nobek looked into his eyes. And yes, that was fear swelling in his gaze. The expression rocked Erybet. Even at New Bethlehem’s worst, Sletran had never looked afraid. Despondent, horrified, sickened, yes; but never scared.

Sletran whispered, “This has been happening a lot lately.”

“What has? Tell me, Nobek,” he commanded when Sletran hesitated.

“I’m missing time. I go to bed at night then I wake to find myself miles down the beach or in the market square. I don’t remember going to these places at all.”

All those disappearances over the last few months. Did Sletran have no idea of any of them? Erybet was suddenly as terrified as his clanmate looked. More so. “Where did you wake this time?”

“Here, this morning, in bed with you and Conyod. I thought I’d been here all night.”

Erybet released Sletran’s jaw. Thinking out loud more than actually speaking to the other man, he said, “It’s a good thing you spoke up to the officers. Who knows what they’d think if they knew there were hours you couldn’t account for?”

He wasn’t sure what to think himself.

Sletran said, “This amnesia must have to do with New Bethlehem.” He sighed heavily. “I wish I could talk to Conyod. Though if he knew what happened, he’d never forgive me.”

“You know that’s not possible anyway. We’re under orders.” Erybet fell back on the one chance they had to resume normal lives, the one ray of hope he clung to desperately. “If we can get a Matara, you’ll feel a lot better. A woman that belongs to you, for you to protect … it will make a lot of things right again.”

Sletran’s lip curled. “I don’t deserve a Matara. Not after what I did.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Sletran. You did all you could to stop it from happening.”

The self-loathing in his voice chilled Erybet. “But it happened. The blood of those innocents stains me. I am responsible for all those deaths—”

Erybet grabbed his jaw once more, putting his face in the Nobek’s, forcing him to look at him. Trying yet again to absolve his clanmate of sins that didn’t belong to him, though he knew it would do no good. “Stop it right now. I gave you the order based on flawed intelligence. You carried out that order, and when you discovered the information was wrong, you tried to stop what was happening. You must not blame yourself that half your command didn’t receive the changed order. Sletran, you did nothing wrong.”

The Nobek told him, “That’s not how it feels, my Dramok.” His haunted eyes were filled with pain, pain that Erybet knew from his own guilt he could never hope to lessen.

* * * *

Conyod left Rachel’s room. He still had a few minutes before his shift started, and he headed straight for his supervisor’s office, too excited to wait for an appointment. He hoped Govi would be in despite it being early.

He went to the head psychologist’s door. “Request permission to enter,” he said, triggering the visitor announce on the other side.

Govi’s voice, always friendly even when giving someone a reprimand, sounded quite cheerful this morning. “Identify, please?”

“Dr. Conyod. If I’m not interrupting?”

“Not at all. Enter.”

The door slid open, and Conyod walked into the large office. Govi sat behind his utilitarian desk, and Dr. Kivokan was also inside, sitting across from him. Conyod hesitated.

Govi waved to the empty seat next to Kivokan’s. “You’re all right, Conyod. Sit down. We’re just going over routine administration issues.”

“As well as your patient’s huge step forward,” Kivokan added. His handsome face gave Conyod the usual charming smile, the smile that never quite reached his eyes. “Congratulations once more on a job well done.”

Conyod sat down. “Thank you, though I must credit the Matara’s will to recover.”

“That is always an indispensible ingredient in healing the broken spirit. But I have no doubt your guidance made all the difference,” Govi insisted. “I spoke to Rachel last night, and I am so pleased with her progress.”

Conyod licked his lips. He wished he could speak to Govi privately, but as second-in-charge, the subject would have to be broached to Kivokan anyway.

So he took a deep breath and told Govi, “Rachel told me you discussed her release from the hospital.”

Kivokan looked at their supervisor in surprise. “Do only a few words spoken truly allow this? It wasn’t so long ago she was hacking her hair off every time she found an object sharp enough to do so.”

Conyod countered. “She’s had access to meal knives for the last two months, which she’s used properly. She has a safe hair trimmer for her hair now. There haven’t been any episodes of self-mutilation or evidence of harmful survivor’s guilt for several weeks.”

Govi considered. He never answered any question without turning it over carefully first, even if he knew the answer. After a few moments he said, “Conyod and I have agreed for some time that she’s emotionally stable in every way except for this continuing trauma-based muteness. She’s found a way past that. I’m very comfortable letting her explore her next steps with continued, but reduced supervision.”

Kivokan frowned. “I’ll agree her progress has been quite good, but she still exhibits some issues regarding her appearance. Her remaining scars are minimal, but she seems to see them as much worse than they are.”

“That will fade as clans vie for her attention. I have no doubt that with the combination of vulnerability and strength that are part of her character, she will be very popular.” Govi glanced at the small vid on his wall where his Matara and daughter’s portrait was displayed. It was the only decoration in a room dedicated to minimal function. Govi hated to not be around people, and Conyod knew he spent as little time in the office as possible, preferring to visit patients and consult with the team.

Conyod studied the vid as well, and despite his nervousness he had to smile at the lovely image. The baby Serena was a miniature version of her mother Michaela with matching black curls and cherubic face. A beautiful pair, no doubt the real reason Govi jealously guarded his hours, putting in only a couple nights of overtime each week. He was a very lucky man.

The head therapist turned back to his subordinates. “Constant reassurance from a devoted clan does much to alleviate issues such as perceived unworthiness.”

“Matara Rachel has shown an interest in clanning?” Kivokan sounded surprised but disinterested. His clan had opted to not enter into the lottery.

Conyod took a deep breath. Now was as good a time to jump in as any. “Perhaps I can mitigate some of Dr. Kivokan’s concerns. Rachel has indeed indicated an interest in joining a clan.”

Govi nodded. “Yes, she has. We discussed the lottery last night.”

Conyod barreled on. “As you are both aware, my clan has won the right to approach willing Mataras. Rachel would like to explore the possibility of joining my clan. I’d like to as well.”

Govi’s smile disappeared. He and Kivokan stared in undisguised shock.

The head psychologist spoke slowly. “That’s rather unprecedented, Conyod. I’m not sure it’s ethical either.”

Conyod nodded. “I know. I’ve spoken with Rachel about the concerns of patient-doctor involvement. After much discussion and deliberation, I’m convinced she is sincerely interested in me and my clanmates as potential mates. I’m certain this is not a dependent fixation.”

Kivokan didn’t try to hide his disapproval. “You’re too close to the situation to make that determination, Doctor.”

Govi’s tone was gentler, but he was firm. “I have to agree.” He glanced at the photo of his Matara and child again. One corner of his lips twitched upward. “However, I clanned my own Matara knowing I’d be treating her for issues of poor self-image and a lack of worth. I have not been the most objective of therapists when it comes to her either.” He looked at Conyod again. “You have feelings beyond those of a therapeutic caregiver?”

Without hesitation, Conyod said, “I love her. But I never told her until I was certain she felt the same for me.”

Another long pause as Govi turned the matter over in his mind. Conyod barely breathed in those endless seconds. Finally his supervisor said, “I’ll tell you what, Conyod. I’ll speak to Rachel myself and decide if it is in her best interests to pursue this course of action. Meanwhile, you must get your clanmates to agree to the arrangement as well. If you do court her, you will have to hand her primary therapy over to another doctor.”

Relief swept over Conyod. Govi was giving him the opportunity, clearing a major hurdle. “Thank you, Dr. Govi. You have my profound appreciation.”

Govi wagged a finger at him. “Let me warn you, I’m going to be objective about this. If I think for one second it will be detrimental to Rachel in any way, I will rule against it.”

“Of course. I trust your judgment.” He couldn’t help the elation burning in his chest however. It was the first truly bright hope he’d felt in awhile.

Kivokan asked, “What about your Nobek, Conyod? He’s had a little trouble adjusting since returning from the war, hasn’t he?”

That took a little of the thrill away. Kivokan’s Nobek Akrij was Erybet and Sletran’s commanding officer. He’d know intimately what had happened to his clanmates. The evaluating look on Kivokan’s face made Conyod wonder if Akrij had gone against the security orders, if he’d shared the top secret information with the Dramok.

Jealousy flared at the thought Kivokan might have the knowledge Conyod was desperate to discover, knowledge that would allow him to help his clanmates recover. It made him downplay how bad things had become.

“Being put on administrative leave has set Sletran adrift. You know how Nobeks need something to keep them busy or they get stir crazy. Getting to know Rachel and figuring out how to best take care of her needs will give him an important goal.”

Great, now he sounded like Erybet, spouting nonsense. But he refused to give Kivokan the satisfaction of admitting anything was wrong with his clan. Not only that, he needed Rachel. With his clan in shambles, she was the only thing worth getting up in the morning for. Worth sticking around for.

Govi gave another of his long pauses before saying, “Whether she’ll be a positive for your clan and Nobek is a question ultimately for your Dramok to decide. Meanwhile, I’ll give you an answer about Rachel tomorrow.”

Conyod rose and bowed respectfully to Govi. “Thank you again, Doctor.”

He left the office to start his regular rounds, feeling positive. Rachel was determined, and he had no doubt she would convince his superiors she was definite about being with him. With Erybet determined to clan a Matara, the only opposition he could foresee from his Dramok was that Rachel’s trauma might be too much to add to their already distressed clan.

At the end of his shift, Conyod bid Rachel a sweet goodbye for the day, kissing her until they were gasping and on the verge of another romp. The summons at her door announcing the evening meal kept that from happening. Eager to broach the subject of clanning his beloved, Conyod went home after promising Rachel he would come to the hospital early in the morning.

He rehearsed what he would say to his clanmates the entire way home. It was with nervous hopefulness that he entered their quarters and went in search of the other two. He found them sitting on the balcony on weatherproof seating, silently watching the sun set over the ocean. Both wore gloomier looks than usual. Conyod hoped his news would lift their spirits a little.

The men looked at him as he came out on the balcony, murmuring greetings. Conyod went to the low wall of the balcony, but was too excited to appreciate the way the setting sun tinged the green-hued sea with amber highlights. He faced his clanmates.

He searched their eyes, as he always did these days, for a glimmer of warmth as they gazed at him. It was that bare touch of affection that kept him from completely giving up on the altered pair and running away. He found it. They still cared for him; they were simply too lost in their misery to display much of it these days.

Erybet even managed a ghost of a smile. “My Imdiko is home from work before dark for a change. This is a special occasion.”

Conyod clasped his hands behind his back to conceal their slight tremor. Undoubtedly, Sletran had already detected his nervousness, but Erybet might not have. Since it was his Dramok who had to be handled carefully in the matter, Conyod didn’t want to give Erybet any reason to refuse considering Rachel. He worried his leader would do so out of spite because of the hard time Conyod had given him over the other Mataras. The old Erybet wouldn’t have, but now…

He smiled back at Erybet. “Actually, it is a special occasion. Do you remember Rachel? My patient you met last night, the one who had just begun to speak?”

Erybet eyed him carefully. Okay, Conyod’s words had come out a little too fast, a bit too high-pitched to convey the casualness he’d planned on. But Erybet didn’t comment on that. Instead he answered, “Such a beautiful girl. Who could forget a face like hers?”

Sletran added, “She was the brave one who opposed her government. Did she speak more today?” He too was managing a hint of a smile, his gaze warming on the Imdiko.

“Much more. Govi is ecstatic over her progress.” Conyod swallowed. His next words came out in a rush. “So much so that she is to be released soon from the hospital and will be going into the lottery system. She wishes our clan to present its case for her first.”

The eyes on him widened. His clanmates exchanged a look with each other, their expressions becoming careful.

It was the Nobek who quietly asked, “You’re her primary therapist, aren’t you? Will considering her for clanship be allowed?”

“Maybe. Govi is looking into the matter and will give me an answer tomorrow.” Conyod caught Erybet’s gaze and held it. To hell with pretense. His Dramok would have deduced already how important this was to Conyod. “I beg you to consider it.”

Erybet leaned forward in his seat, his stare never leaving Conyod’s face. “You’ve had no interest in previous Mataras.”

Conyod couldn’t continue to match that intense gaze. Erybet had a look that made him feel like he could read every thought in the Imdiko’s head. He dropped his eyes. “I have a confession to make, my Dramok. I didn’t want any of the others. I only wanted Ray-Ray.”

There was a long beat of silence. Conyod could feel those eyes boring into him. Under the weight of that gaze, something inside his heart shrank. Erybet was going to say no.

Sletran spoke, giving Conyod a small reprieve from the other man’s scrutiny. “Are you in love with her, Conyod?”

Conyod looked at his Nobek. As always, Sletran regarded him with gentle strength, a look the fierce warrior reserved for him alone. It gave Conyod the resolve he needed to answer, “Yes. With all my heart. She says she loves me too.”

Erybet said, “There are two other men in this clan, men she will have to want as well as you.”

The Imdiko dared to look at his clan leader. The look Erybet gave him, one that was almost as caring as Sletran’s, allowed Conyod to take a breath.

He said, “I know, Erybet. She’s intelligent, though. She’ll see what good clanmates you’d be to her.” He hoped. “If you only get to know her, you will want her as much as I do. She’s smart and caring and courageous and perfect…”

Conyod had to pause to take a breath from the recitation of all that made Rachel wonderful. In that moment of silence, Sletran laughed. It was the first time Conyod had heard him do so since he’d returned home from the war.

“Conyod, you’ll be writing poetry next.” Sletran shook his head, but his smile was indulgent. For a moment he was so much like the Nobek Conyod had known, the Nobek he’d been overjoyed to clan with.

Maybe Erybet was right. Maybe having a Matara will be enough to snap Sletran out of his trauma. Crazier things have happened, right?

Sletran turned to Erybet. “We can’t stand in the way of this, my Dramok. It can be no worse than the other candidates.”

Erybet snorted and took a swallow from his cup. “I have to give you that. May we meet with her tomorrow, Conyod? Spend a little while getting to know her better? That’s supposing Govi gives his approval.”

Conyod thought his heart might explode. His clanmates were saying yes! He couldn’t help the huge, stupid grin that made his face ache. “Absolutely. Thank you, thank you both so much.”

Erybet looked at him, his eyes bright. He blinked hard, and Conyod had to look away. Erybet never cried, at least not in front of him. The Imdiko was afraid the naked emotion on his Dramok’s face would bring his own tears.

Erybet’s voice was steady at least. “Perhaps we will finally get the new start we’ve so desperately needed. Conyod, fix yourself a drink and sit with us for a while.”

Conyod obeyed. For the next few hours he told them all about Rachel, sharing the things that had made him fall hopelessly for her. They ate dinner and drank companionably, discussing the possibilities, and to Conyod, the suddenly bright future before them. For a little while it was almost like the old days again.

* * * *

It was after dark when the sleepless Dramok joined the other man on the balcony. The roar of the waves attacking the beach soothed him. Their Imdiko slept easily within the home, his gentle face finally peaceful again. At least one of them had attained some measure of serenity.

And so you will remain, my Imdiko. I swear it.

Shoulder to shoulder with his Nobek, he gripped the low wall of the balcony, letting the breeze blow back his hair. Warmer weather had arrived after the troubling winter, but it still became quite cool at night. The clan had yet to indulge in a soak in the balcony’s large whirlpool.

The body next to his sang with tension. His clanmate also gripped the wall, and moonlight showed the whiteness of his knuckles. With their third member safely unaware, he let his carefully constructed façade slip off his face. The Nobek’s face was equal parts misery and fury.

Don’t talk, the Dramok inwardly urged his clanmate. Don’t say what’s been on your mind to tell me all evening. By the ancestors, I truly don’t want to know.

Of course the Nobek dashed his hopes, as so many had been dashed because of the war. “I’m sorry I lied to you. About what’s been going on. About where I’ve been.”

The Dramok shuddered. “You took that Matara.”

“And the others. The dead ones, anyway. I’m not part of the rebellion. The political abductions have nothing to do with me.”

By the ancestors. He was saying he’d killed all those women.

But I knew already, didn’t I? I think I knew something evil was happening even before this horror.

Emotion tried to close his throat. His words came out choked. “Why? I know New Bethlehem was horrible, but how can you—?”

He couldn’t finish. All he could do was stare at a man he thought he knew so well. His Nobek’s tormented face belonged to a stranger. A face much like his own had become.

The other man’s growl was bestial. “They use their beauty against us. They know how much we want them, how we’ll do anything for them. That one on New Bethlehem … you know the one I’m talking about, my Dramok.”

The one before the massacre. The Earther woman who had broken a brave and mighty Nobek’s mind.

My clanmate is killing Mataras. If it gets out, he will be executed. My innocent Imdiko and myself ostracized. We will lose everything, with no hope of starting over.

It had finally gotten beyond the Dramok’s control. He searched for a way out of the chaos, the madness that had started on a small, insignificant Earther colony.

The secrets we’ve kept are choking the life out of my Nobek. I don’t want to know what happened in his head that day. But I must listen. If he tells me all of it, maybe that will stop him. Hearing the tale from his mouth might arrest the need for vengeance.

He swallowed. He really didn’t want to know how that pivotal event had led to New Bethlehem’s infamous Slaughter of Innocents. But things had gotten out of control. The war was over, but his Nobek was still killing. It had to stop.

“Tell me. I know the story, but tell me every detail from your point of view. I’m the only one who understands, the only one you can talk to about how you felt.”

“We share so much that is secret. What are a few more confidences?” The other man turned from him to stare out at the roiling blackness of the sea, churning its fury under a moonlit sky. “She came to us as so many did. She wanted food. I sent her with one of my best men to the kitchen at our camp. It was right at meal time. She knew exactly when to do it.”

The Dramok swallowed. “And there was no check for weapons.” The big mistake. A mistake any Kalquorian male would have made at the time. Nevertheless, his Nobek had not been able to live it down. His clanmate was a good soldier. A great soldier, who never let any detail get past him.

“I should have checked beneath her coat. It was big and bulky, perfect for hiding arms. If it had been a man, I would have. But she was so small and lovely. So innocent looking with her big wide eyes sending tears down her face.”

His Nobek’s greatest weakness had been exploited. The man had always been a fearless protector of those smaller and weaker than himself.

The Dramok tried to assuage his guilt yet again, knowing the Nobek wouldn’t hear him. “You weren’t the first to be fooled by an Earther woman. It happened many times after that incident.”

“I could never imagine one walking into a camp wearing explosives like that. Even if I’d seen it with my own eyes, my mind would not have accepted it. But the explosion – ” He stopped. His eyes were wide, his gaze faraway, seeing the horror. A strange sound came from his throat, one of absolute agony. His whisper barely rose above the growl of the surf. “Body parts flung everywhere. She took nearly two dozen men with her, my Dramok. Men who would have done anything to help her. Some of my best men, men that looked up to me.”

The clan leader clutched the other man’s shoulder. He felt how his Nobek trembled, but whether from grief or anger, he wasn’t sure. His voice intense, he insisted, “The war is over. This must stop.”

A sigh. His head bowed. “I know. But they are so evil. So many men, men who trusted me, and I sent her right into their midst.”

“No more killing. I order you.”

“Yes, my Dramok. I will try.” He didn’t look at him, and that was worrisome. It was as if he didn’t think he could halt the murderous compulsion that had overtaken him. That perhaps he didn’t even want to. Still, he took a deep breath and finally met the clan leader’s eyes. “I have the chance to begin again. Each day is a new start.”

The shoulder beneath his hand had stopped shaking. The Dramok squeezed that mound of bunched muscle. His clanmate was strong. He would prevail. Putting all his faith in his voice, he told him, “Exactly. Put the past behind you and start anew.” He thought a moment and added, “I know I needn’t remind you our Imdiko cannot suspect any of this. This is a very sensitive time for him, what with the new developments. We must make right what was nearly destroyed.”

The Nobek stiffened. Nothing roused his protective instincts more than the third member of their clan, the sensitive Imdiko they would shield at all costs. “He will never know what I’ve done. And I will do what I must to keep him from being hurt again.”

The Dramok wondered at the exact meaning of that last statement. In the end, he was too afraid to ask.

Chapter 5

Govi had grilled Rachel over her intentions towards Conyod and his clanmates the day before. ‘Grilled’ indeed, if such a word could exist in connection with Imdiko Govi. Getting interrogated by the gentle head psychologist was like getting beaten by the softest pillow in existence. Still, Rachel had realized that if he wasn’t happy with her responses, he’d put the brakes on her hopes to charm Erybet and Sletran. She’d poured her heart out to him, hoping to impress upon the Imdiko her absolute adoration and devotion to Conyod. At the same time, she made sure Govi knew her gratitude to her primary therapist and her love for him were two separate things.

Apparently it had worked because Conyod’s Dramok and Nobek were coming to speak to her. She’d managed to schmooze Conyod into finding her a halfway decent sheath dress for the meeting. He’d cocked an eyebrow at her request, obviously confused.

“They’ve already seen you in your hospital gown,” he pointed out.

That earned him a scowl. Hardly impressive. I thought you wanted me to win them over?

“They’re impressed by your mind and your bravery. They don’t care about your clothes.”

That got the most expressive eyeroll she could muster. You may be brilliant when it comes to trauma, but you have a lot to learn about a woman’s typical behavior, Conyod. No dress, no meeting. I’m not going to speak to your clan about joining them while looking like a pathetic beggar. Even though she felt like one.

The Imdiko threw his hands up in surrender. “I’ll find you a dress, Ray-Ray.” As he walked out of the room, she heard him mutter, “Earther women are as demanding as Dramoks.”

Poor man. He had no idea.

Conyod had not only brought her a suitable dress, he’d managed to find one close to her size. Marcus had never been able to pull that off. And the purple shade, similar to the Kalquorian’s eye color, looked good against her dark chocolate skin tone. If it was just a bit daring up top, showing a good two inches of cleavage, Rachel decided that would only help her case with the female-deprived Kalquorians.

Too bad her gorgeous beau hadn’t thought to pick up a pair of shoes too. But he was a man and trying to make her happy, so she was content to make do with her soft-soled hospital slippers.

Now she stood waiting to meet her potential clan. She wiped one sweating palm on the side of her hard-won dress and clutched her handheld in the other as Conyod ushered Erybet and Sletran into her room. Both bowed deeply to her.

The almost-too-pretty-to-be-a-boy Erybet straightened and said, “It is a pleasure to meet with you again, Matara. I’d like to thank you for the opportunity to present our case for clanship.”

She smiled and typed, I am the one grateful to you, Dramok. Conyod told me he shared my feelings for him with you. I hope we can all come to an understanding. Maybe more.

Erybet’s look was as cautiously hopeful as she felt. “I hope Sletran and I can impress you at least half as favorably as my Imdiko has.”

Her grin grew, and she found the courage to tease. The fact he clanned with you puts you ahead of the game. You have to be something special to have caught this Imdiko.

Erybet returned the grin. His obvious delight took a good ten years off his appearance, and Rachel had a glimpse into the hopeful young man he must have once been.

Conyod indicated the extra seating cushions he’d had brought into her room, all arranged around her low table. “Why don’t we all sit down so we can talk comfortably?”

They sat, and Rachel realized Sletran had yet to speak. Despite his silence he seemed quite attentive, his eyes riveted on her with seeming fascination. She also noticed Erybet’s smile had disappeared. He was back to being stiff and uncomfortable.

He flushed under her curious stare. “I apologize for our lack of preparation. We have nothing special to offer you at this meeting.”

She shook her head, not understanding.

“We do have something from our last attempt to attract a Matara that you might like to have. It is a beautiful piece of jewelry. However, it is my understanding it would be considered poor form for us to give you a gift originally meant for another woman.”

I’m afraid I’m a bit confused, Dramok.

“We usually have a gift to present prospective Mataras, and our first meetings are usually in better atmospheres. Your quarters are pleasant enough, but taking you to a fine dining establishment or a museum would be much more impressive.”

Rachel waved off his concern. I’m not concerned with such things, nice as they are. On Earth, we had a saying; ‘It’s the thought that counts’. I do appreciate the consideration.

Erybet nodded, but he continued to look ill at ease. There was a lull in the conversation, where no one seemed to know what to say next. Rachel looked again at the silent Nobek to find he was still studying her. He seemed to find her fascinating, but he didn’t speak. Meanwhile Conyod was looking from one clanmate to the other, as if watching a tennis match. He appeared worried.

Rachel decided to go right to the heart of the matter. She typed quickly on her handheld and showed it to the Dramok. Erybet, do you see yourself as a good man?

He jerked a little upon reading her words, as if the bald question startled him. “I try to be.”

And as a Dramok, are you a good leader for your clan?

That query struck a nerve. Erybet froze. His eyes rolled to one side, taking in his stoic Nobek. Erybet looked back at Rachel and then his gaze dropped to the table. In a low voice he answered. “I’ve made mistakes and sometimes my clanmates suffer for it.”

His guilty conscience couldn’t be more plain if he’d tattooed it to his forehead. Rachel’s heart went out to him. She knew a lot about making those kinds of mistakes.

She typed, That makes two of us. I led a revolt on Earth, and it got the man I loved killed, along with several other good people. My intentions were noble, or at least I thought they were. Maybe I was just stupid.

Erybet studied her message for so long that Sletran leaned over to read it too. Both men gave her identical stunned expressions. Then the Dramok’s tense demeanor relaxed. He nodded, his smile that of someone who had found a kindred spirit in pain.

“We never truly know, do we? We drown in the what-should-have-beens, the things that would have kept our loved ones safe.” He handed her the little computer as he glanced at Sletran again. The shame in his expression was far too familiar.

I felt guilty that I survived. I didn’t feel worthy of living.

Conyod was also reading along with Erybet now. He gave her a gentle smile. “We had a few scary spells, didn’t we?” To his clanmates he said, “She never did hurt herself, but she admitted she thought about it all the time.”

The interrogators didn’t mark my face, but they’d scarred my body. Clothes hid the marks, but I knew I was ugly. I wanted to ruin what little beauty they’d left me, so no one would be fooled into thinking I was something I wasn’t.

After the men had read that much, she went on. On Earth after Armageddon I found a pair of scissors. Any time my hair would start to grow out, I’d hack it off. I’d have done more, but I was already in so much pain from torture that I couldn’t bring myself to injure myself further.

Sletran touched his hair at her words. He finally spoke in a deep voice that made Rachel shiver. “Horrible things happened in the war. Many of my friends died. Many who were under my direct command. Many innocents. It is hard to come home and be normal when so many others won’t. It is difficult to not suffer when so many have.”

Rachel’s chest ached with emotion. The Nobek spoke words she might have uttered had she been able to. He voiced her pain.

Without hesitation, she confided in the three men: I don’t think I’ll ever return to the person I was. I suppose the old Ray-Ray didn’t survive after all. I guess I have to make a new me.

Erybet huffed rueful laughter. “I talk about making a new start so often, I’m surprised my clanmates haven’t sealed my mouth shut.”

You’re right though, Erybet. The past can’t be changed. All we can do is pick up the pieces and move on.

Erybet and Sletran nodded, their expressions registering complete agreement. Rachel had been ready to accept the two as companions simply because she loved Conyod. That she’d discovered a deeper kinship with them was a happy surprise.

Sounding like the leader he was supposed to be, Erybet asked, “What do you need from your clan, Ray-Ray?”

She thought about that. It would be easy to lie, or at least not to tell the whole truth that would expose her too much. But clanning was for life. As much as she was desperate to be with Conyod, Rachel recognized Erybet and Sletran were raw from their own traumas. They needed to know exactly what they were in for with her.

I need strong men I can rely on. Men who will make me feel safe. Her face heated, and she added, You have no idea how embarrassing it is to admit that. I used to be tough. Able to stand on my own.

Sletran’s almost feral features somehow managed to convey gentleness. “I think you still are strong, Ray-Ray. Bravery isn’t the lack of fear. It’s facing life even when you feel overcome by terror.”

She swallowed. She had an overwhelming urge to impress this warrior, perhaps even more than Erybet. It was hard to bare the coward she’d become, but someone like Sletran would sense the real Rachel Hicks anyway.

Her fingers typed hesitantly, hating to reveal all. I don’t face life though, not anymore. I can’t even speak my own language now for fear my words will hurt someone.

Conyod’s hand rubbed up and down her back, soothing some of the self-recrimination. “But you are speaking. You’re heading towards the same destination. You’ve simply chosen a path with fewer obstacles.”

Erybet smiled at her, going stupefyingly gorgeous again. “He’s right. You are still strong, even if you don’t see it. As your clan, we would be there when your courage fails. And Ray-Ray, everyone’s courage fails at some point. Even Nobeks.”

Sletran pretended to snarl at his Dramok before loudly whispering to Rachel, “But don’t tell anyone. That’s a big secret.”

Conyod and Rachel laughed out loud, and even Erybet chuckled. The Dramok and Imdiko looked at their third member with hopeful expressions. Rachel noted how much more relaxed they all were now that a few of the uglier bits had been exposed. She thought they seemed quite capable of handling any burden she might stick them with, even though they were obviously struggling with their own demons.

Even if I wasn’t in love with Conyod, I think I would like to be part of this clan anyway, she decided.

Sletran leaned forward and offered her his hand. She didn’t hesitate to take it, and she felt a thrill when his fingers closed, making her entire hand disappear in his careful grip. He told her, “It is easier to be strong for others than for yourself. I can protect you. It might even make up for—”

He stopped. Powerful emotion made his mouth snap shut. Rachel heard his teeth click together with the force. He looked away from her face, staring instead at their linked hands.

Erybet had paled. He watched Sletran carefully. When the Nobek remained still and silent, he said, “We are carrying our own scars, Matara. I know you can see them.” A deep breath, then his words grated as if he was forcing them out through the strength of his will alone. “Perhaps you would not be so well off with my clan, though it pains me to say so.”

Conyod’s head bowed, his hair falling forward to hide the agony on his face. Sletran’s hand tightened around Rachel’s just the least little bit, though his tormented expression didn’t relax or deepen.

With her free hand, Rachel typed, Until now, I didn’t realize it was important to be with a clan who understands the pain I’ve been through. You get my hurt as if it was your own. I am sorry you’ve been damaged too, but at the same time, it allows you to know me. It makes me feel I can trust you.

She slid the handheld towards Erybet and gave him time to read it. Then she opened her mouth and said in Kalquorian, “I love Conyod.”

The Imdiko raised his head and peered at her through the long black hair that hung over his face still. “And I love Ray-Ray.”

She took the handheld back. Please give me a chance, Erybet. I think we would be good for each other.

Conyod shook his hair back and looked at the Dramok with desperate hope. Sletran had finally stopped studying his fist curled around Rachel’s to read her last message. He still looked grim, but his jaw unclenched to speak.

“I also think we might do each other good. I want to try with Ray-Ray, Erybet. I swear I will do my best by her.”

Erybet considered the Nobek. Rachel thought she saw fear flicker across his face. Then a glimmer of hope dawned. He took a deep breath, blew it out heavily.

The Dramok turned to Rachel. He reached out and took the hand not commandeered by Sletran. His fingers were longer, more elegant, but still hid hers from view when they closed around them.

He licked his lips and said, “Thank you for giving us this chance, Matara. You are more than I dare hope to clan, but I will do my best to win you.”

Rachel’s heart leapt not just at his words, but also for the warmth in his eyes as he smiled at her.

* * * *

Two weeks later, Rachel stood before a door. It opened, and she walked into her apartment in the capital city’s Earther Matara complex. Her apartment. Her new home. Conyod, Erybet, and Sletran followed her in.

The last two weeks had been full of intense interviews, more psych tests than she could count, and numerous visits from her clan-to-be. No, they hadn’t asked her formally yet, but she had already made her decision. There was so much yet they needed to learn about each other, but Rachel was pretty sure about the three men. The doubts she still had about Erybet and Sletran, her love for Conyod made up for. She was determined to spend her life with him.

As she had her first look around the greeting room, what she would have called a living room, Conyod stepped beside her. He held two dresses the clan had bought her besides the one she wore, along with a small case of her few other possessions. The group looked over the plainly furnished room with its single small table and scatter of seating cushions. A vid monitor hung on one wall.

Erybet stepped to Rachel’s other side. She looked up to see him scowl, unimpressed. “Small,” was his verdict.

Conyod’s outlook was much more upbeat. “It’s bigger than her room at the hospital.”

He was right. Plus Rachel had other rooms to explore. Using her handheld, she told the men, It’s nice. Besides, she reasoned that if all went well, she wouldn’t be here long anyway.

She stepped forward to move farther into the room. The vid suddenly came to life, showing moving pictures of the Kalquorian seaside. Arranged in the qwerty layout she was used to from her Earther handheld, letter buttons glowed at the bottom of the screen. A deep, mechanical voice issued from it.

“Welcome to Kalquor, Matara Rachel Hicks. We are pleased you have chosen to live on our planet. Your profile indicates you are nonverbal. For information on your rooms, this apartment complex, the city, or Kalquor, please touch the vid to bring up an alphabetic keypad and type your question. You may also link a personal computer or handheld to this device and type your questions via that method. In the case of emergency requiring immediate assistance, you will find a lit red button by each doorway. Simply press it, and someone will arrive immediately.”

Rachel saw the glowing red button next to the opening that led to the next room, the kitchen. She turned and confirmed another was next to the apartment’s main entrance.

Sletran’s hand went to her shoulder, and he squeezed gently. “Security is good here, but be cautious anyway. The Matara we met with prior to courting you went missing from this complex several days ago. You are aware of the rebellion?”

Rachel nodded. She’d heard, all right. Govi, Conyod, and even Kivokan had gone to great lengths to warn her not to open her door to strange men and to not go out to isolated places unchaperoned. Damn it, she wished Erybet would let go of his caution and simply clan her. Then she could move in with the clan and live safe and sound in their home. She was already reassured by Sletran’s Nobek protectiveness, having gone on little walks outside the hospital with the clan while waiting for her official release. His eyes were forever scanning their surroundings. The man was as alert as a guard dog.

Sletran and Erybet were both considerate to a fault when it came to her. She sensed a desire from them both to get close to her, to gain her confidence. Solicitous at every turn, Rachel found herself truly liking her beloved’s clanmates. But would she find love with them like she had with Conyod?

She noticed the flat rectangle on the table. She looked at the men with surprise. I thought computers weren’t provided? That I’d have to buy my own with my government allowance?

Erybet offered a cautious smile. “We thought you might like to spend more of your money on clothing, since you have so little to wear. Consider the computer the introductory gift we didn’t present you upon our first meeting.”

Her heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. That’s too generous, Erybet.

He gave her a firm voice, but his smile grew. “You’ll have to accept it, or I’ll spend the same amount on a wardrobe for you. And you may not particularly care for my taste in clothing since all I’m used to are military issued formsuits.”

She shook her head but took his hand. “Gutuk ze,” she said, giving in with good grace.

Erybet seemed delighted at her touch. He squeezed gently. “Perhaps Sletran and I can take you to some shops while Conyod works today?”

Rachel nodded and blinked back the sudden sting in her eyes. The man never stopped trying to take care of her now that his clan officially courted her. She couldn’t figure out why Conyod had hinted he was at odds with his Dramok.

Conyod moved to stand close to her as well. He wasn’t as tall as the other two men, but he still loomed over her. Looking up at him, Rachel was reminded of how overwhelming he’d been covering her body with his. They hadn’t had another opportunity to make love since the one time, and she hoped that now she was out of the hospital that would soon change. Rachel wasn’t quite sure how that would work with Erybet and Sletran added to the mix. She was always in the company of more than one man these days. Not even having to go into the hospital for outpatient therapy was going to give her and Conyod a chance to be alone; her case had been turned over to another psychologist.

She gazed now into his big, beautiful eyes, thinking she’d be happy to drown in their blue-purple depths. He smiled at her. “Sletran has loaded a Kalquorian language program into your computer. It’s highly recommended for Earthers.”

Sletran added, “Everyone learns differently, though. If you don’t like it, let me know and I’ll find you another instruction.”

“Gutuk ze,” Rachel said again. She’d been thanking the three men a lot lately. They did so much for her, often anticipating her needs before she even realized what they were.

Conyod turned and led the way into the next room. While Rachel and the other two paused in the small kitchenette, the Imdiko continued on through another doorway. “I’ll put your things in the sleeping room. Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Rachel wandered the tiny room, made smaller still by the two massive Kalquorians who remained with her. She opened doors and drawers, familiarizing herself with her new surroundings. One door opened into a cooling unit filled with ready-made meals along with fresh fruits, beverages, and snacks.

Erybet opened another door. To Rachel, it looked like a cabinet. However the Dramok said, “For the meals, just put them in this warmer. The machine will scan and heat them properly for you.”

Okay. Simple enough. From the looks of the packages, labeled in both Kalquorian and English, she had quite a few familiar entrees to enjoy.

She showed Sletran the package that apparently contained teriyaki chicken. He nodded. “The farms of the Earther colony Mercy have done well enough that you’ll find a decent selection of food you’re familiar with.”

Conyod returned to the room. “She’s had a taste of that in the hospital. Lasagna seems to be her favorite.”

The Nobek offered, “I could learn to make it. The market gets fresh daily shipments of Earther produce and meats.”

Rachel looked at him in surprise. Sletran was handsome, but he also looked almost primitive with his heavy, uber-masculine features. He was the biggest of the three, with at least a foot in height and over one hundred pounds on her. She couldn’t imagine the massive warrior doing something so domestic as cooking a meal.

Erybet seemed amused at her reaction. “Sletran is a decent cook. I enjoy it when he prepares our meals.”

The Nobek snorted. “I had no choice but to learn. Otherwise, we’d eat only rations or take the chance on being poisoned by these two.”

Conyod’s grin was unguarded, lighting his whole face. Rachel’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.

He asked his clanmates, “Do you remember the time Erybet tried to roast half a ronka in our first home’s tiny cooker?”

Chuckles rumbled from Sletran’s chest, and Erybet snickered unselfconsciously. They laughed a lot more than when Rachel had first met them. “Most of it was still raw after eight hours of cooking,” the Dramok confessed. He cocked an eyebrow at Conyod. “At least I didn’t nearly burn the entire place down making a stew.”

All three men laughed at that, Conyod flushing dark with embarrassment even as he joined in the hilarity. Rachel enjoyed seeing them sharing a moment of ease. In the last two weeks, the reticent Sletran had come more and more out of his shell, Erybet had become relaxed around her, and Conyod’s haunted expressions had nearly ceased. She liked to think she was doing the clan good.

Conyod said, “It’s true. I did destroy the kitchen of our first home. What made it worse was that I was still in training for my advanced therapy certificate and not making an income. These two had to pay to replace the entire kitchen.”

Sletran nudged him with goodnatured indulgence. “On my basic foot soldier and Erybet’s group commander salaries. That was the most expensive meal any of us ever made!”

Rachel cocked her head in confusion. But you get income from the Empire’s ores, right? Those from Kalquor itself and its moons and colonies?

Conyod answered that one. “Oh of course, but that covers only the basics: shelter no bigger than this apartment, food staples, functional clothing, schooling, and maybe a small bit left over to buy a couple of drinks at a club. The Empire’s infrastructure and services like the military, medical care, and police force also come from those resources.”

Erybet added, “Most is placed in a fund for Kalquor’s future needs and emergencies, such as natural disasters. What each Kalquorian receives is not enough for any real luxury, but no one starves.”

“Unless you two are cooking,” Sletran deadpanned, which earned more laughter.

After he stopped snickering, Erybet told Rachel, “Now that you’re a permanent resident of Kalquor designated to join a clan, you get a share as well. It pays for this apartment, the food, and the allowance in your account.”

Rachel nodded her understanding with no small relief. Now she didn’t feel so much like a charity case for having her home and food provided for. She was being treated like everyone else in the Empire, Kalquorian and Earther alike.

They peeked in the sleeping room, which contained a thick mat like the one she’d slept on in the hospital, a seating cushion and low table, plus a closet which disappeared into the wall. Then it was time to say goodbye to Conyod for a few hours.

He sighed unhappily, gazing into her face. “I suppose I should get back to the hospital. Some of us have to work these days.”

Erybet placed his hand on the back of Conyod’s neck and squeezed gently. “Ray-Ray is in good hands, my Imdiko.”

Conyod searched the Dramok’s face. His smile returned. “Yes. I think she is.”

He kissed Rachel goodbye right there in front of his clanmates. It wasn’t a chaste kiss either; it made the center of Rachel’s stomach heat with need. Then Conyod left with another wistful sigh.

Rachel’s sigh matched his. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face even though the other two looked terribly amused at the display. Feeling sassy, she stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry at the pair.

You think that’s funny? Just wait until I get my hands on you both. Then we’ll see who’s smirking.

The thought had her grinning. After all, even if she wasn’t in love with the Dramok and Nobek yet, they were still delicious-looking enough to enjoy carnal fantasies.

* * * *

Global Security officers Breft and Raxstad arrived in the city’s underground market, carefully navigating their small shuttle right to its central square. It was early yet, but the market was already bustling with many Kalquorian and Earther Mataras alike, all on foot. Only emergency vehicles were allowed in the heart of the market where the bulk of the capital’s business and entertainment took place.

The Kalquorian love for keeping their planet’s landscape as untouched as possible was the reason the hub of the activity was kept underground, in a former mine. One would rarely realize they were not outdoors once they reached the market area. The ceiling above was one great vid receiver, showing a live transmission of the sky overhead. The day was filled with sunshine, and no one, not even the best engineer or tech, could discern that the sun wasn’t actually beaming down on the streets of Kalquor.

The central square, like many of the other squares of the market, was lined on either side with shops and eateries. In the wide open space between the shops, entertainers played music for the enjoyment of those wandering the area. Artists invited passersby to sit for portraits. There were scenes enacted from favorite plays. Seats and tables scattered around beneath the shade of trees for those who wished to rest or simply visit with friends. There were even play areas for the few children, mostly toddlers, to enjoy. Breft’s clan had brought their twins out just yesterday to shop. He had supervised his little ones as they happily climbed rocks with carved handholds and slid down chutes. Their shrieks of laughter had pealed joyously enough to make even tough Nobeks grin.

There was to be no laughter today. Not considering the report they’d received.

At the very center of the square was a large statue, depicting the First Clan of Kalquor. The virus that had decimated the female population had spurred then-Crown Prince Shev to adopt the clan system with his friends Nobek Mekyi and Imdiko Hartob. Matara Dalic had joined them. They ascended to the throne together, becoming the first Imperial Clan.

As Breft and Raxstad neared, they saw the statue was hidden behind an opaque shield. A crowd clustered around it, no doubt curious as to what had happened. Other Global Security officers noted their first and second superiors’ approach.

“One side, citizens! One side to let officers pass,” came the call, and everyone drew back to create a path. Breft and Raxstad walked through the crowd without a problem, both activating their identification signals via small boxes on their belts. The opaque shield allowed them to walk right through.

The huge bronze visage of Nobek Emperor Mekyi stared down at Breft, his blades drawn as he coldly dared anyone to harm his clan. Dramok Emperor Shev stood at his side, one hand over his heart in a symbol of his devotion to Kalquor. On the opposite side of Shev stood Imdiko Emperor Hartob, one hand on Shev’s shoulder, the other on the shoulder of Empress Dalic, who knelt on one knee before Shev, facing away from her men. Her hands were held out, palms up, as if to offer peace to all.

Breft swallowed to see what had been placed in one of her outstretched hands. It wasn’t peace the beloved empress offered today.

Officer Lidon approached, his usual limp not as obvious today. The turn of warm weather was offering him a little relief from the horrific injury that had nearly destroyed one of his legs long ago when he was a fighter pilot. He nodded a quick bow of respect. “My commanders.”

Breft thanked the ancestors Lidon had retired from his military spaceflight career to join Global Security. The man’s quick mind had been a boon to the precinct since joining.

Now he asked the elder Nobek, “How intact is the scene?”

“I believe nothing has been disturbed.” Lidon gestured to a man who was talking to one of Breft’s investigators. The man’s face was pale, his eyes wide, and he kept the statue at his back so he wouldn’t look at it. “That Imdiko over there owns the herbal shop just across the square. He saw this when he arrived to open and called security.” Lidon pointed to two regular peacekeepers. “Those two officers zoned off the area right away and called regional enforcement, who called us upon their arrival.”

Raxstad had stood silently by, his lips pressed tightly together as he surveyed the scene. When he spoke, his growling words were nearly indecipherable. “By the ancestors, this is the worst one yet. What kind of monster would do such a thing?”

Breft looked at Matara Maria’s face, recognizable from the pictures he’d viewed. The killer hadn’t marred her now-pale features. With her closed eyes, she almost looked serene. Or would have, had the rest of her body still been attached. It was her head that the statue of Empress Dalic held out like a gift.

The Matara’s naked torso had been skewered at the end of Emperor Mekyi’s uplifted blade. Her arms and legs draped over the First Clan’s necks like macabre stoles. The effect was hideous. A young, innocent woman, perhaps as sweet and gentle as Breft’s own Matara, had been made into a demented joke. The thought that Breft’s mate Amelia could have suffered such a fate made him want to shred the killer.

He swallowed his rage. He had a job to do, women to keep safe. He forced himself to look the scene over carefully.

“No blood.”

Lidon nodded. “She was killed and cut apart elsewhere. Then the parts were washed clean.”

“What’s that in her hand?” The square of paper Breft spied was tucked between two fingers that curled around Emperor Hartob’s jaw like a lover’s caress.

“He left a note.”

Well, that was new. Breft felt a surge of excitement. “Let’s have a look.”

Lidon led him to a crate set next to the statue. Footprints showed others had already used it as a step. The figures of the statue were almost twice as tall as Breft. He stepped up and peered at the lettering on the note, careful to touch nothing so he wouldn’t contaminate the scene before Forensics had their way with it.

Lidon quoted it as Breft read, probably for Raxstad’s benefit. “‘The Beast of New Bethlehem wakes and hunts its prey. The wages of war shall be paid.’”

It felt wrong to be happy to have a message from the killer, what with his latest victim lying all over in pieces. Raxstad’s tone echoed Breft’s pleasure however, taking some of the guilt away. “A connection to the Slaughter of Innocents. And our first real clue as to the killer’s identity.”

“So it would seem.” Breft thought about his next move. It only made sense that he immediately contact Emperor Bevau, Imperial Commander of the Kalquorian military. But the Slaughter of Innocents was a touchy subject. On the rebellious colony of New Bethlehem, more than two dozen of Earther women and children had been killed by a Kalquorian squad. The public was still unsure of how the horror had happened, and those who had been responsible were not known. There had been many accusations of a cover up, leveled not just at military leaders, but also the Imperial Clan itself.

Breft was on very good terms with the Nobek Emperor. Raxstad was an actual close friend of Bevau’s. He wondered if asking pointed questions would jeopardize those relationships.

Well, he would do his part to keep the link between the Matara murders and New Bethlehem quiet if it would solve his case. Breft stepped down from his perch and confronted his two officers. “Lidon, no one else is to see that note but Forensics. Everyone who does see it is under a gag order as to its contents until further notice.”

Raxstad looked at the shield. Its effects were one-way, allowing the investigating officers to see the confused and excited crowd that waited for news. “The murders might come out as public knowledge now. If this Beast keeps leaving the bodies this way, we won’t be able to hide the fact we’ve got both a revolt and a serial killer on our hands.”

Breft nodded. “Any report that the murders are related to New Bethlehem will only feed the frenzy. Even if we acknowledge the killings, that part must remain secret for now.”

“Easier said than done,” Lidon opined. “My Dramok has told me there have been many covert attempts to find out who was directly responsible for the debacle there. People want someone to pay.”

Breft frowned to hear that. Lidon’s clanmate, Admiral Dramok Tranis, would certainly know such things. The space fleet’s youngest admiral in history, Tranis had also been the captain of a spyship during the war. It had been his actions that had ended Earth’s aggressions, though not in the way anybody could have foreseen.

Raxstad scowled as he eyed the scene carefully. “Could this be separate from the other killings? They’ve always been dumped in isolated areas, never been left out in public before.”

Breft looked to Lidon, wanting his opinion on the matter. The scarred Nobek took a deep breath. “My vote is no. The mutilations have gotten progressively worse over time. The three victims before this one were also dismembered and washed.” He met Breft’s eyes. “He’s getting bolder. He’s showing off. Taunting us with her body and his letter. I have a feeling he will increase his rate of kills now.”

Breft went cold all over. He’d dealt with some sick, depraved minds in his career, but he’d never had to track down a serial killer before. He actually worried he might be out of his depth with this case.

The precinct commander snapped, “I want every square inch of this place gone over twice. No, make that three times.”

Lidon nodded. He stared at the head of the poor Matara, and his eyes went dark with fury. “If there is the slightest speck of evidence, we’ll find it. Nothing will be missed.”

Chapter 6

Rachel, Erybet, and Sletran spent a couple of hours shopping and enjoyed a nice lunch in an open-air café. Although it had always been Rachel’s experience that men didn’t particularly care for clothes shopping with women, her escorts had been courteous, patient, and forthcoming with their opinions, especially when they liked a particular dress or outfit. Their compliments when she tried clothes on had even made her feel pretty from time to time. She found herself genuinely liking Conyod’s clanmates. It didn’t hurt that they looked so good too.

The only real cloud over their morning had been hearing about a murdered Matara that had been found in the market’s main square. Erybet had gone especially pale at that news and had questioned several shopkeepers as to the woman’s identity. No one had a name to share with him. Rachel wondered if he feared it was the woman they had gone on that date with, the one who’d rejected them. She hoped not and felt terrible for wishing the little bit of jealous ill she had on the woman.

Erybet and Sletran had kept her away from the central market. “Nothing there except dining, fresh produce, meats, and the like anyway,” Sletran said. “No clothing shops.”

The layout of the market fascinated Rachel. It boggled the mind to know they were deep underground. The outer boundaries possessed the nighttime entertainment spots, with live theaters, restaurants, and clubs. Rachel couldn’t imagine the kinds of clubs Kalquorians frequented, unless they were like the sports bars back on Earth. She knew some races had places to dance with booming beats for swaying, sweating bodies. She’d seen vids from other worlds and thought it looked fun, if blatantly sexual in some cases.

Earth had outlawed entertainments like dancing for being too lascivious. The one exception was ballet. Even that had been carefully controlled to keep participants from touching each other inappropriately.

Rachel had a hard time imagining Kalquorians doing either ballet or the more energetic and sexual shaking that comprised some races’ forms of dancing. Somehow, the idea of two serious, muscled fellows like Erybet and Sletran boogying down to a throbbing beat just didn’t translate. Hunting wild animals with spears? Sure. Chopping down trees? Okay. Wrestling crocodiles or whatever the equivalent might be on Kalquor? Absolutely. Executing graceful pirouettes or shaking their butts in wild rhythmic abandon?

Definitely not.

As one journeyed further into the interior, the next two levels of the market were more restaurants, along with shops that offered clothing, furnishings, decorative items … everything. Rachel couldn’t wrap her head around all the goods one could buy. There hadn’t been much money for her family back on Earth. Even those in her neighborhood who had money found it hard to buy the staples sometimes. Stores often had bare shelves. In her town, it wasn’t unheard of for riots to break out over a shipment of sneakers.

Kalquor was a shopper’s paradise. And yet, even in the midst of all this plenty, her companions had told her that the very best goods weren’t on their planet.

“If you want the absolute best craftsmanship with furnishings, jewelry, or even building supplies, Joshada is the place to go,” Erybet said. “They construct everything by hand, and with such precision and skill you’d swear it had been rendered by machine.”

“The Joshadans are exceedingly talented,” Sletran agreed. “I saved most of my first year’s pay just so I could replace all my military-issued blades with ones commissioned on that planet. They are the best weapons I’ve ever wielded, better than even my blaster.”

It had been an instructive tour, and Rachel now had nine new outfits, four pairs of shoes, and even some makeup. The clan had vexed her plenty over those purchases.

It started with the first store they visited. She’d argued with Erybet to let her pay for her own clothes. She’d chosen four outfits already when she discovered he’d instructed the proprietor to take payment from his account.

She furiously typed, I’m not about to take advantage of you. What if you decide not to clan me?

The Dramok exchanged a look with Sletran, looking as if he was fighting to not smile. “Very well, Matara. The funds have already changed hands on these clothes, but I will pay for no more. I only insist you let me buy mid-meal.”

She’d grudgingly okayed that. At the next shop she kept an eye on Erybet to make sure he didn’t arrange to pay for anything, and he didn’t. He commed Conyod instead, discussing dinner plans, along with private matters to judge from the whispered part of the conversation Rachel couldn’t hear. While he did that, Rachel’s feet were measured for shoes. The Dramok helped her debate the merits of four pairs she really liked until she narrowed her choices, reluctantly, to two pairs. Then she discovered Sletran had given the shop his account information. She scowled at him.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t buy you something,” he pointed out.

I’m saying it now.

“Very well.”

Promise. Both of you.

Looking terribly amused but not daring to laugh, the two men swore they wouldn’t pay for any more of her purchases. Then Rachel noticed the size of the package Sletran carried out of the shoemaker’s store. The darned Nobek had bought her all four pairs of shoes she’d wanted instead of just the two she’d picked out. Gratitude warred with pride.

You are so lucky I can’t speak my language and I don’t know yours well enough, because you’d be getting an earful right now, she told him.

“The expression on your face is more than enough to terrify me, lovely Ray-Ray,” Sletran answered, looking nowhere near frightened. “Words are not necessary.”

“Let’s try that shop next,” Erybet said, pointing at one with holograms of pretty dresses and casual wear, sized just right for an Earther girl. “I hear the prices are quite reasonable.”

Certain she would be able to pay her own way this time, Rachel was thrilled to discover the clothing in the store was not only well made but indeed affordable for her government-issued allowance. She picked out four everyday outfits, and then splurged on a gorgeous dress. She wanted to look as pretty as possible for the clan that she was determined would soon be hers. Though she had protested Erybet and Sletran’s generosity, she was secretly pleased they’d tricked her into letting them buy her gifts. It made her hopeful they really liked her, that they would accept her into their clan so she could spend her life with Conyod. Contemplating the two muscled bodies totally naked was a delight too. It made her warm to think of being in bed with them, until she thought of how she’d have to be naked too.

After she’d finalized her choices, Erybet took an exaggerated step away from her, his expression pretending terror. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Ray-Ray…”

She narrowed her eyes at him. If they’d paid for this round of shopping after promising otherwise, she’d cuss them long and proper, even if it meant typing until her fingers fell off.

“Conyod called ahead and gave them his account information. He’s paying for these.”

Rachel’s mouth dropped open. She thought, What? But how had he known they’d be here?

Well, it had been Erybet’s suggestion they go to this shop. And he’d had a private conversation with Conyod while she was fitted for shoes. She’d been had. Jerks.

She threw her hands up in the air. I give up. What a bunch of macho creeps they were. Wonderful, macho creeps. She really did like them more by the moment.

When Rachel next wanted to go into the shop run by an Earther woman that sold creams and makeup, Sletran looked askance. “You don’t need any of that, Ray-Ray. You’re beautiful without it.”

Erybet snorted. “He’s right. I like you without your face painted. I hope you’re not one of those who wears so much it looks like a mask.”

Sletran added, “Or drowns herself in perfumes.”

Rachel stuck her tongue out at them and sashayed into the shop. The two men did not follow her in. She spent half an hour carefully choosing what she wanted and walked out with a silk carry bag bulging with her purchases. She almost laughed out loud at how dubious Erybet and Sletran looked. She decided not to tell them the bag was filled with mostly skin creams and scented shampoos, not that she had much hair to use them on. She’d never been one for much makeup either. She’d picked out a mascara the helpful owner had promised would enhance her short eyelashes and a softly tinted lipstick that could double for a blush if she wanted a little extra color.

What she told the men was, It’s a girl thing. You’ll learn to love it.

Erybet sighed. “You really don’t need it, my beauty.”

She warmed to hear his words. His beauty. As if they already belonged together. Still, her stomach knotted nervously as she thought of her hidden scars, the damage he hadn’t yet seen.

Rachel thought, We’ll find out what you think of my ‘beauty’ when you see the whole show.

After a relaxed lunch, the trio decided to go to the clan’s home to wait for Conyod to finish work for the day. They left Rachel’s new wardrobe in the shuttle except for the splurge-y dress, a new pair of shoes (one of the pairs she’d rejected because while gorgeous, they were also impractical), and her makeup bag. Erybet carried these things in for her on the chance they would eat somewhere nice that night. No one had been able to decide what to do for the evening meal.

Rachel looked over the home’s greeting room, noting with approval that while the furnishings were certainly nice, they weren’t overdone. She would be uncomfortable with opulence, she realized. It wasn’t a world she knew much about.

What caught her attention almost immediately were the three framed drawings hanging on one wall. Not vid art, but actual hand-done work. She went close for a better look at the individual portraits of the clan, noting how Erybet’s face flushed at her interest.

“Good, aren’t they?” Sletran said, his voice filled with pride. “My Dramok is quite talented.”

Erybet shrugged and laid Rachel’s belongings carefully on the lounge seating. “They’re just sketches, really. I don’t know why Conyod insisted on putting them out.”

Rachel stared, noting that the pictures must have been drawn before the war. The three men so skillfully depicted had none of the haunted expressions that underlaid even the happiest moments she’d seen them enjoy. There was a hopefulness to Conyod, confidence in Erybet, and strength in Sletran that had been eroded in the present versions. More than ever she felt a kinship with the clan.

On her handheld she typed, Don’t be so modest, Erybet. These are wonderful. I couldn’t draw a straight line with a ruler.

Sletran read her message too. “What interests or hobbies to you have, Ray-Ray? Besides starting revolutions, that is.”

Rachel thought hard about the question. To answer him honestly, she would have to expose some hurts. They weren’t physically present but had left scars nonetheless.

She told herself, No secrets from these guys, Ray-Ray, not if you plan to spend your life with them.

Taking a steadying breath, she began the painful baring of her soul. When I was very young, I liked to sing and play the church’s piano. My parents scraped up enough money for a few lessons. I thought I might be a musician some day, but then my dad got sick.

Erybet’s voice was soft. “Your father is dead? From Armageddon?”

He worked in a factory where dangerous chemicals were used, and the ventilation wasn’t very good. It cost a lot of money to go to the doctor. By the time we knew his lungs were damaged, it was too late.

Rachel swallowed hard. Daddy had been gone for a long time now, having died when she was only eleven. It still hurt like a bitch.

Two tight bands circled her; one around her waist and the other her shoulders. She blinked. Both men had put their arms around her. Their bodies crowded close to hers as they sought to comfort her. She wrapped their strength and concern around her like a security blanket.

Erybet said, “I am so sorry you had to suffer such a loss, little one.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Sletran asked, “Your mother?”

Something went cold in Rachel at his question. Yes, she had loved Mama dearly, but that love was tinged with anger as well. Rachel had been forced to be strong for the both of them.

She told the men, She fell apart after my father’s death. I quit school as soon as I turned 16 and got a courier job to support us. She died a couple years later, I think of a broken heart more than anything else.

“So you were unable to pursue your interest in singing and playing.”

Between plotting the overthrow of the government and scratching out a living, the music fell to the wayside. I guess Conyod didn’t explain to you you’d be courting an uneducated, untalented, unskilled woman.

While they read that, she let her head hang down. Until this moment, she hadn’t thought about her interrupted education or how she didn’t have much to offer anyone beyond maybe shoving out a few kids. Ugly, unbalanced, and stupid to boot. They’d never clan someone like her. It was a miracle Conyod had given her more than a passing thought.

Disappointment hit hard. Erybet and Sletran couldn’t possibly want her. Not as a clanmate. She lacked way too much.

Once they saw the scars, they wouldn’t even be interested in her sexually. And that was a damned shame, because they were absolutely gorgeous men she wanted to know at least once in a carnal manner. Rachel was very aware of the arms around her, of their strength. It made her insides raw with want.

Erybet gave the handheld back to her. “Let’s go out to the balcony. The weather is too nice to be stuck inside.”

His arm remained around Rachel’s shoulders, and Sletran took her hand. She knew they couldn’t possibly desire her in any way now. Despite that, the feeling of being protected and safe persisted as Rachel walked between the two men through their home.

The balcony was awash in the bright sunlight. Rachel blinked after the dimmer environs of the home’s interior. Kalquor’s sun was farther away from the planet than Earth’s beacon had been, but this sun was larger. After a second, her eyesight adjusted to her surroundings.

The balcony was a thick slab of rock, cut into the cliff face in such a way that one stepped right from the dining area through an archway onto its surface. The floor and almost chest-high wall that surrounded it were polished smooth, rendering the gray stone into an almost marble-sheened perfection. A series of large, sidelong ovals had been cut into the wall so one’s view of the pink sanded beach and vast green sea was unimpeded. Shuttle traffic whirred high overhead, the hum of motors almost lost in the roar of the surf.

Seats that reminded Rachel of patio chairs were grouped on one side of the rectangular-shaped balcony. Their heavy frames were a deep coral, a perfect counterpoint to the pastel color of the sand below. The thick cushions echoed the emerald tones of the ocean. They were big chairs meant for the big men who flanked her.

On the other side of the balcony was a hollowed-out circle, cut deep into the otherwise blameless floor. It was full of bluish water. Near the lip of the basin, just under the water’s surface, were small holes. Rachel studied it. A bath facility? On a balcony open to public view?

Erybet said, “It’s just getting warm enough to use the whirlpool. We’ve almost finished treating it for the season. Sletran, next time we’re out remind me to pick up a soaksuit for her.”

Rachel’s brows rose. They were still planning to have her around after her disclosure?

The men ushered her to one of the seats and sat on either side of her, moving their chairs close to hers until they touched. Her toes just brushed the hard stone of the balcony. It made her feel like a kid at a party for grownups.

Erybet tilted his head, looking her in the face. “From the expression you had earlier, I assume you think poorly of yourself for having to give up your education.”

Rachel shrugged. She’d done what she had to do to take care of herself and her mother. It hadn’t really occurred to her that she might view herself as lacking because she’d left school. However, society had taken a dim view. Had she internalized that attitude? She couldn’t deny a flash of shame when she’d admitted to not finishing her studies. She’d definitely felt terror that it might be a deal breaker where the clan was concerned.

One side of Erybet’s mouth lifted. He even chuckled. “I’ve known complete fools with years upon years of education. You are no fool, Ray-Ray. And though you may not have the skills you prefer, I wouldn’t say you have none at all. Surviving is a very noble skill.”

Sletran added, “Not to mention being able to lead an insurrection. Leaders are made because of what’s already present inside. You can’t be taught that drive.”

A little of Rachel’s dismay abated. The men didn’t seem to hold the absence of a diploma against her. However, she felt they held her in higher esteem than she deserved.

She typed, I didn’t lead so well. We failed horribly in our efforts to change the world.

Sletran rubbed her shoulder. The touch made her insides tumble, especially when she thought of his hands going elsewhere on her body.

The Nobek told her, “Some of the greatest victories lie simply in being brave enough to try. The outcome doesn’t negate that.”

Easy for him to say, Rachel thought. He hadn’t stood surrounded by friends and loved ones’ corpses, all dead because of a hopeless ideal. An ideal Rachel had preached until the others had followed her to their terrible ends.

Erybet interrupted her dark thoughts. “You have the opportunity to start from the beginning. Any schooling or training is yours for the asking. If you become a part of my clan, we will wholeheartedly support whatever direction you choose to go in. If you wish to pursue music studies, we will seek out the best possible instruction.”

She stared at him. They would do that for her? Just because she wanted it?

Rachel considered before writing her next message. Why would you make that kind of effort? I don’t need an education to have babies and take care of them. My ability to play music won’t save Kalquor. Ultimately, isn’t clanning Earther women simply to breed the planet’s future?

Sletran answered that one. “We won’t lie to you about the necessity for a next generation. After all, our people are dying out. But we also want you because you will add to our lives.”

Erybet added, “Helping Mataras realize their hopes, dreams, and potential fulfills their Kalquorian mates. You aren’t just an incubator, Ray-Ray.”

A little of the tightness eased in Rachel’s chest. That’s a very philosophical approach to a relationship. I like it. But I don’t suppose I can offer much in return when it comes to fulfilling your hopes and dreams.

Erybet gave her a real smile. “Don’t be so sure. To qualify for the lottery, we took a battery of tests. One of the questions asked was how I would like my future Matara to describe me. My answer was caring, supportive, and devoted to her needs.”

Sletran added, “My answer was similar, though I also wished my Matara would call me protective. For us to demonstrate such qualities, we would require a woman who needed to feel safe, who has requirements we can provide for.”

Erybet nodded, his expression saying he was in complete agreement. “What you might see as lack in yourself, we see as a gift to us. Women give men their lives. They give us children. It is our joy to uplift you in return, to make right the wrongs you have suffered.”

Rachel blinked. They certainly had an amazing outlook on things. What she thought of as detriments, they saw as opportunities. She grinned.

Where have you guys been all my life?

Erybet and Sletran both laughed at her message. The Dramok stroked her short curls. “Waiting for you, perhaps? What took you so long to get here?”

The pair looked so good when they were happy. Seeing how willing they were to give their all to a woman, one that had so little to offer in return, made her believe more than ever she’d do well as their mate. Their attitudes, along with those magnificent physiques, were turning her on too.

Of course, that led to the next hurdle. At what point do we explore physical compatibility?

Her question made the men exchange surprised looks. She hurriedly typed, I take it this is too soon. She was a little relieved to put that part off. Sure, she wanted them, couldn’t stop thinking about getting them in bed, but once they saw what she looked like with her clothes off—

Erybet took her hand. “I would be delighted to take you to our bed now. It’s just – Earthers tend to be so repressed when it comes to sex.”

Rachel swallowed, though her mouth was dry. Not me. I considered sex a wonderful form of resistance to my government’s tyranny.

That made Sletran chuckle. “You truly are a remarkable woman.”

A scent tickled Rachel’s nostrils, pushing back the salt brine of the nearby sea. The spicy aroma that reminded her so much of cinnamon emanated from the men on either side of her.

She thought, Great, Ray-Ray, you’ve got them aroused. Now you have no choice but to do something about it.

She liked that they found her desirable with her clothes on. But what would happen when they saw her without them? She’d piqued their lust and knew she should give them what they – and she – wanted. But now she was too scared to make the first move. If they rejected her, it would make her feel uglier than ever.

Should have cut my hair. Scarred my face, so they wouldn’t be fooled. So they’d know exactly what I am.

Erybet’s voice was soft with hope. “Would you like to see the sleeping room?”

She looked at him, at his too-pretty-to-be-a-boy face. At that delicious body she wanted on top of hers. Inside of hers. Sletran’s too. They could get someone so much better than her. But she couldn’t help the stab of need, or the hope they would somehow overlook her disfigurement.

Rachel nodded, trembling all over. To be fair, she gave them one last chance to escape. First you should know something. The doctors couldn’t get rid of all my scars. They are hideous. I’m not pretty like the other Mataras you could clan instead.

Sletran gripped her chin and made her look him in the eye. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Erybet rubbed her back, his touch comforting. “We are harder on ourselves than others are. Don’t be afraid to show us everything, Ray-Ray. What lies inside you is perfection, and that is all I can see.”

Rachel wanted to believe him. He sounded so sincere. If he and Sletran were mistaken, she’d have to do her best to distract them from how she looked. Thank the heavens that with Marcus, she’d learned a thing or two about the art of diverting attention in a carnal manner.

Her insides tumbling in a stomach-churning mix of anticipation and nervousness, she let the men help her to her feet and lead her to another archway further down the balcony.

Holding the hands of the two men, Rachel crossed from the sunlight into a room with walls covered in wine-red drapery. White fur throws cushioned her feet from the polished stone floor beneath. Her eyes widened at the size of the sleeping mat. The surface came up to as high as her waist, and it looked a square acre of softness. Shimmering black linens rumpled like sea swells. Typical men, not bothering to make their bed.

A glimmer of metal caught her peripheral vision, and Rachel looked over to see a silvery chain and manacle peeking out from behind one haphazardly drawn drape. Her eyes widened. Erybet and Sletran followed her gaze, and both faces flushed with color. Erybet shamefacedly stepped over and adjusted the curtain to cover the restraint.

Rachel thought, Well, well. I wonder which of them was bound by that? Or maybe it was Conyod? Oh yum.

She had a momentary vision of herself chained to the wall, with all three Kalquorians looming over her. It was her turn to flush, but the heat in her face had nothing to do with embarrassment. Warmth trickled between her legs. Now that was a thought to get her motor running.

She grinned at the two men carefully watching her and waggled her eyebrows at them. Their mouths dropped open in twin expressions of shock.

Erybet burst out laughing. “Matara! You truly are uninhibited. But may I suggest we keep it simple for our first time?”

Rachel nodded. Yes, she wanted her hands free to enjoy these two. She ached to touch Erybet’s long, lithe frame and Sletran’s bulkier muscled one. Two very different men physically, but equally as fine. Choices, choices.

Surprise radiated through her senses when the pair led her to the sleeping mat. Sletran took her handheld and laid it on a nearby table. With the Nobek behind her and Erybet in front, they began exploring her body over her simple sheath dress.

Both of them? At the same time?

Apparently so. Four hands, each bigger than her head, ran all over her torso. She wore a bra, but her nipples tightened under the warm touches. The tips poked into blatant buttons through the fabric of cups and dress. Erybet drew circles around the outlines with his thumbs, making her gasp and arch in reaction.

Sletran was forced to bend a little to kiss the length of her neck. His hands slipped over her ribs, arrowing down to frame the vee of her sex. Wicked fingers crept in to rub her mound, bringing moans from her throat.

Erybet’s mouth descended onto hers. She parted her lips for his raspy tongue, granting entrance. It plunged in to taste her, twisting delightfully to experience all of that orifice. Rachel grabbed his shoulders, pulling him as close as she could.

One of Sletran’s fingers probed at her cleft, discovering the wet crease of her through panties and dress. She rolled her hips forward until her clit made contact with the pressure of his touch. She felt a simultaneous melting and electrical spark. Her breath caught and she twisted her hips, moving to stimulate that eager bit of flesh.

“Uninhibited and assertive with her wants,” Sletran chuckled. “She might require chains and bindings on a regular basis, my Dramok.”

Erybet broke the kiss and looked down at Rachel, his eyes dark and dangerous enough to make her shiver with delicious fear. “Indeed. I appreciate the eagerness, though she could use a few lessons in surrendering herself rather than trying to take what she wants.”

Rachel lifted her chin in challenge. She thought, Good luck on that, big boy.

Erybet’s brows drew together. “Yes, there will definitely be a little schooling of the intimate nature needed.” He leaned down to whisper against her lips. “Never challenge a Dramok’s alpha instincts, my little Ray-Ray. Not unless you appreciate a show of force.”

Hmm, a show of force? The thought of herself in chains once more assaulted Rachel’s senses. Maybe she would appreciate such a display of Kalquorian strength.

Rachel’s hands flashed down from Erybet’s shoulders to grab onto the massive erection straining his shorts. At the same time she rose up on her toes so she could close her teeth on his lower lip. She nipped gently, meanwhile massaging the thick length beneath her fingers.

An instant later, she was flat on her back on the bed with the growling Dramok stretched over her. Her wrists were pinned over her head in one of his fists. The other hand circled her throat. There was no pressure, no attempt to choke her. It was a control display only.

Rachel gasped. She’d never felt any movement. In a blink of an eye she’d gone from vertical to horizontal. That fucker was fast.

She’d never been so turned on in her entire life.

“Do you understand now?” Erybet asked. The growl was gone, leaving his tone amused.

Rachel grinned fit to split her face. Oh yeah, she understood. She understood that sex with this particular dominating Kalquorian was going to be incredible.

Sletran roared with laughter. “She is a match for you, my Dramok.” He fell onto the bed to lie next to Rachel. “You might get her to obey, but you’ll have to prove yourself worthy of the honor.”

Erybet chuckled. “There is nothing I’d rather do. A prize is not worth winning if there is no challenge.” He dropped a surprisingly gentle kiss on her still-smiling lips. “And you are a very great prize, my little Ray-Ray.”

This time when he moved her, she had an instant of feeling the motion. She was on her feet again in the blink of an eye. Erybet held her still by the wrists, stretching her tall.

“Dress off,” he said, and Sletran’s hands were at the hem of her sheath, pulling it up and off in one smooth motion, even when Erybet had to release her hands to allow him to do so. The men were so quick that Erybet had hold of her again before she even realized she stood between them in only bra and panties. Not pausing for an instant, Sletran got her underclothes off as well, leaving her completely nude in front of virtual strangers.

They could see her scars.

Rachel twisted a little in Erybet’s uncompromising grip, trying to find some way to shield the ugliness from their gaze. Sletran grabbed her hips, holding her so she couldn’t escape their scrutiny.

“Stay still, my dark beauty. Let us look at you and these so-called ‘hideous scars’.”

Rachel had little choice, given their greater strength. She drew a shuddering breath and looked at Erybet. She wouldn’t shrink from his disappointment or disgust. She would face his reaction bravely, though she wanted to curl in on herself.

Erybet looked her over carefully, as if to memorize every curve of her body. She couldn’t tell from his expression what he thought. It was almost as disconcerting as knowing Sletran was looking at her backside and not being able to see him at all.

At some silent signal, they turned her around so she faced the Nobek. He also gazed long and hard at her, no doubt imprinting every flaw, large and minute, in his mind. Rachel had never felt so uncomfortably exposed in her life.

At last Sletran’s eyes rose to look into her face. To Rachel’s surprise, his expression was that of a man impressed by what he’d seen. He nodded approval. “Such a proud warrior. A woman like you is rare and wonderful.”

“Indeed you are,” Erybet agreed from behind her. “One of uncommon strength. I am honored to bed one such as you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. They were so nice to treat her gently. She couldn’t see the slightest hint of disappointment in their eyes. And their arousal scent had increased. Maybe it had been so long since they’d seen boobs and a pussy that they were able to get past the disfigurement.

When they put her on the bed this time, they did so slowly, with seeming reverence. They laid her down, but Erybet kept her wrists pinned. Excitement surged through Rachel. They were still going to make love to her. Her scars hadn’t scared them off.

Now that Rachel had some reassurance that sex was going to happen, she wanted Erybet to let her loose. She pulled against his grip, making whimpering sounds. Damn it, she wanted to touch them!

“Sletran.” Erybet put a lot of command in his utterance of the other man’s name. Apparently, it was all he needed to say, because the Nobek immediately took his place in holding her arms down.

She made another protesting sound and kicked her feet against the soft mattress in furious protest.

“So demanding. But I’ll let it slide this instance in honor of our first time together.” Erybet’s eyes were bright with contained mirth. “Now hush, little sweet. Your pleasure comes first, and you must allow us to take care of your needs.”

With that, he moved away from the bed to stand before the curtain-draped wall. He swept the fabric aside. There were no strange or crazy bondage instruments behind this particular drape. He did something, and a drawer slid soundlessly out of the wall. The Dramok rummaged in it for a moment, then extracted a couple of objects. Another motion, and the drawer disappeared seamlessly into the wall once more.

Erybet stalked back to the sleeping mat, his smile evil enough to make Rachel’s guts clench in anticipation. But when she looked at the things he carried, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of them.

One was a cylindrical metal object with what appeared to be a soft foam cover at one end. The other looked just like a miniature Kalquorian penis … well miniature compared to what Conyod had possessed both front and back. It was slightly less than what Marcus had been gifted with. Was the Dramok planning to fuck her with it?

It had a flat flared base too. Rachel guessed it was to prevent it from going in too far. Okay, she thought she could handle a little experimentation with the fake cock, but she dearly hoped to get the real deal as well. She just wished she knew what the soft-tipped metal cylinder was for.

Erybet knelt between her legs. “We enjoy using various accessories when we make love. You don’t seem adverse to a little adventure. Or being held down.”

Rachel gave him a little shrug, since she didn’t know just how much ‘adventure’ he wanted to take her on. She gave the cylinder a doubtful look.

“This? It won’t cause any pain. Quite the opposite, in fact. Dushveb, misfot.”

At the foreign words, the cylinder made a low humming sound. His gaze on her face, Erybet lowered the cushioned end of the cylinder to Rachel’s sex, touching her clit. A steady vibration pulsed against her flesh. Rachel gave a little cry as pleasure clenched her lower parts. Her hips jerked, and the Dramok took the cylinder away.

“Enjoyable, isn’t it? Would you like more?”

Rachel’s pussy was trembling in the aftermath of the brief but intense contact with the device. She wasn’t sure how much stimulation from it she could handle. Could there be such a thing as too much pleasure? She was almost afraid to find out.

“Ray-Ray, I asked you a yes-or-no question, one you can easily answer. Do you want more or not?”

There was challenge in his voice, and damn him, she’d never been able to turn down a challenge. It was a matter of stupid, blind pride and she knew it. It still didn’t change the fact that she refused to back down from anything. Besides, he was thrilling her body, not hurting her. She jerked a nod at him.

Erybet’s grin was almost cruel as he brought the vibrating toy to Rachel’s clit again. Fierce elation shot through her groin and belly. She yelled and her hips bucked off the bed. He pressed it to her more firmly, and she writhed uncontrollably, her cries growing louder as hot, stomach clenching orgasm stampeded towards her. Erybet kept up with her gyrations, not letting her escape the pulsating machine. Oh gosh, she was going over, going to come harder than she’d ever come before…

The belly-twisting sensation was suddenly gone. Erybet had withdrawn the massage toy again. Rachel panted and stared at him. Why had he stopped? She’d been ready to orgasm. Damn it, she’d been right there! The ache in her loins was pounding, demanding release, and she squirmed desperately, thrusting her hips up at the Dramok.

“My Nobek, she acts as if she wants more. Too bad she can’t tell us, isn’t it?” The look on Erybet’s face was positively evil.

“Very unfortunate,” Sletran agreed. His expression was every bit as devilish.

Rachel squealed and thrust her hips up again. She didn’t understand why they were teasing her. What kind of jerks was Conyod clanned to, anyway?

“Do you accept my authority over you, little Ray-Ray?” Erybet asked.

Authority? Like control? Rachel stilled. If he was discussing just this sexual encounter, she could live with that. But what if he was looking for more?

“I guess I must prove my case a little better,” the Dramok mused. He set the fake dick down on the bed and grasped the back of Rachel’s leg. Raising it, he said, “Will you hold this for me, Sletran?”

“Of course.” With the hand not pinning her wrists, the Nobek took hold and held her leg up and out.

At the same time, Erybet tucked her other knee between his arm and side, rendering that leg powerless as well. Rachel gasped. She was open and vulnerable to him now. With his free hand, Erybet spread open her pussy lips, fully exposing her engorged clit. The humming device lowered towards it.

Rachel strained to jerk free. She couldn’t move, and the vibrator was getting closer … closer…

The light touch sent a blast of renewed ecstasy through her loins. She tensed all over, her body battling to both escape and embrace the wicked instrument. Able to do neither, it strained to release the mounting pressure.

Oh please.

Erybet took the device away once again. “Sholt,” he said, and it fell quiet.

Rachel lay gasping, her senses chaotic with need and denial. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes. She’d never known such delightful agony. Part of her wanted to escape, but another part wanted to remain under the pair’s power as well, even if they continued to torment her. The warring emotions confused her. She wanted a moment to think the situation through. Unfortunately, Erybet had no intention of giving her any time for contemplation.

“You are quite wet, Matara,” he said, his tone approving. “Perhaps you are reluctant to give yourself over, but your body is eager for my command. I think perhaps just a touch more convincing will make you accept my authority.”

He set the cylinder down. His finger traced her swollen, sensitive pussy, and Rachel keened a wordless plea. Something, anything, would feel good inside her right now. She ached to be filled. She ached to come. Damn it, she just plain ached.

A fingertip settled over the entrance to her womanhood. Erybet pushed inside, and she groaned to feel him enter her. Her channel clutched at him, eager for the penetration.

The Dramok’s gaze flicked to his clanmate. “Sletran, you should feel this. It is the softest flesh I’ve even known, yielding so easily. But it’s tight too.”

The Nobek growled deep in his throat. The purely animal sound made Rachel shudder.

Erybet’s voice was nearly as feral. “I will warm my cocks inside you very soon. But first, you must yield yourself entirely to me.”

His words gave Rachel another flare of fear, but the intensity of her arousal pushed it back after a few strokes of his finger. He rotated and probed, and Rachel jerked when he made contact with a spot that sent a cascade of sensation up her spine.

“There?” He rubbed it again, and she whimpered her affirmation. “Good to know.”

Erybet withdrew, again leaving Rachel too empty. She squalled like an angry cat. The men simply laughed, as if indulging a cranky child.

Erybet picked up the fake cock, nestling its tip against the opening of her pussy. Rachel’s pulse picked up speed. It was definitely thicker than his finger, though not as thick as what she really wanted. Still, she was riled up enough that almost anything would do.

“You get this here for only a few moments,” Erybet said and pressed it in.

Rachel’s head fell back as the rigid toy filled her. At the same time, Erybet’s fingers from his other hand, still slick with her juices, slid down her slit until they reached her back passage. One wriggled against her, insistent. Rachel made herself relax to allow him entry.

She sighed as the Dramok moved past the tight ring of muscles guarding against that most taboo of delights. His finger gently probed, stretching her as he slowly pumped the fake dick in and out of her. Rachel warbled her delight at the double penetration.

“Good, Matara. Very good. Stay relaxed.”

A second finger moved inside. Rachel closed her eyes, shutting out all but sounds and sensations. The sweet, slippery noises of penetration filled her ears, along with her quick breaths. Her moans became continuous, in time with the slow pulses of Erybet working her flesh.

“You’re almost ready for us,” he said.

Fingers and toy withdrew. Rachel whimpered, her eyes opening to beseech him. Before she could spend too long begging, he pushed the fake dick into her rear entry.

He’d stretched her well, and the wet toy slipped in easily. There was a slight ache as it grew in circumference and she adjusted. The minute discomfort only heightened her need for a good, solid fuck. Erybet watched her carefully as he inserted the toy all the way until the wide base stopped him.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, though she wanted more. Much, much more.

Erybet smiled, and the threat was back in his expression. “Excellent, Ray-Ray. Now let’s get back to our earlier discussion. Do you accept my authority right here and now?”

Oh crap. Was he really going to do this?

Rachel motioned for her handheld. She wanted to know exactly what the Dramok meant by his question.

“No, Ray-Ray. I want another simple yes or no answer. Though if you say no, I will be forced to try to convince you otherwise.”

Well, she certainly wasn’t going to give away her power to a near stranger. No way.

A hum announced the vibrator had been turned back on. “Answer, Matara?”

Rachel had a feeling Erybet’s earlier teasing had been but a small taste of the torture he might make her endure. Her mouth was dry. She’d been desperate to come then, almost crazed for orgasm. That he could make it worse, she had no doubt. That she wanted to be tested was also a fact. But she wanted it to end with everyone getting off. Somehow she had the feeling Erybet wouldn’t let that happen until she acquiesced to his dominance.

She just couldn’t resist a challenge though, especially since she wasn’t sure exactly how much power he wanted over her. She shook her head no.

Erybet actually looked pleased. “Very well then.”

The humming device touched her, sending agonized delight into her core. Heat ballooned where it made contact and spread throughout her belly. The groan that she emitted felt like it came all the way from the base of her spine. She strained against the men, but there was no way to move, no avenue of escape.

Erybet took the vibrator away, and Rachel groaned again with loss. He pulled the plug from her anus partway and pushed it in again. Now she had another heady sensation to excite her.

After a few moments of that, Erybet sheathed the anal plug to apply the vibrator to her clit once more. Stomach-churning pleasure erupted with a vengeance.

“Now, my little Ray-Ray. Are you ready to surrender yourself to me?”

The ache for release was growing to an acute point. Rachel managed to jerk a little, rubbing herself harder against the thrumming surface. She cried out, closing in on nirvana.

Erybet withdrew the delicious pressure, just out of her reach. “No, you may not. Not until you concede to me.”

He went back to fucking her rear with the fake cock. It felt good, but it wasn’t what she wanted. But to get what she wanted, she had to give in to him.

“I am Dramok. I am the leader. Give yourself over, Ray-Ray.”

The cylinder touched her pussy briefly. It went away. He continued to ply her ass with the dildo. Another brief brush of thrumming power against her clit, then he drew back once more. She wailed.

“Surrender yourself sexually, Ray-Ray. It is the only way to get what you desire.”

Somehow she understood him through the roaring in her ears. Erybet had only asked her submission for sex. Nothing else. She immediately nodded her agreement.

The humming quieted and Erybet eased the fake cock from her butt. “Finally. You are a difficult woman to convince, Matara.” His chuckle was filled with admiration, however.

“At last,” Sletran groaned. “I’m in pain from watching her take such torment. She is not the only one in need of release.”

“She will take us both at once then. For her stubbornness and making us suffer.”

Both of them? At the same time? Rachel’s breath nearly froze in her chest. The thought of having one set of cocks in her pussy and ass while she took the other man in her mouth was pure delicious fantasy. She’d never had two men at once.

Erybet sat back and swept the toys aside. His shirt came off, swiftly followed by his short pants. Rachel’s heart hammered. He was just as endowed as Conyod, a little more, in fact. A very, very big boy. She thought he might split her in two. Oh, but what a way to go.

He knelt between her legs once more. Sletran released her so that the Dramok could pull her upright to straddle his muscled thighs. He lifted her, his hands around her waist, and she braced her hands against those wide shoulders. His skin was so warm. And the hard tips of his cocks bumping up against lady parts were downright hot.

A hand, Sletran’s no doubt, angled Erybet’s front cock so that it zeroed in on its intended orifice. Rachel groaned a welcome as the tip slipped in. Then she really groaned when the Dramok pulled her down onto himself, spearing deep within her. All the preparation and teasing had her more than ready for the taking. The Dramok filled her easily, as if meant for her body alone. His penetration went deep, making the tip of his penis collide with her cervix. Slivers of pleasure dug deep into her belly.

Her backend was graced by the insertion of a couple of fingers. Doubling the heady thrills. Rachel dimly wondered why Sletran hadn’t put Erybet’s second cock in her there. Perhaps he thought she needed more stretching. Well, it felt fine as could be, and when he added a third finger, it felt even better. She was really happy the Kalquorians were naturally equipped for double penetration. Really, really happy.

Erybet wrapped his arms around her waist, pinning her against his warm, solid body. His mouth closed over hers, kissing her deeply, with breath-stealing passion. Rachel closed her arms around his neck, giving as good as she got and rubbing against him as much as his firm hold would allow. He felt so good. She wanted his hips to move, for him to fuck her hard and proper.

The Kalquorian broke the kiss and smiled at her. “Now just one last little thing, and you’ll be ready for us both. Sletran?”

“Only a moment of discomfort, my little warrior woman,” the Nobek breathed in her ear. His mouth closed over the side of her neck. A sharp report of pain there clenched her whole body, and Erybet hissed.

“Easy, Matara. You’ll make me erupt before I’ve had a chance to enjoy you properly. There, the pain of his bite should be gone now.”

The brief burst of agony had disappeared, and the first hint of intoxicant seeped into her body. Rachel let it take her. She knew from her experience with Conyod and the earlier one with a young Dramok named Sojan how delightful the aliens’ bites made sex feel. As if the act wasn’t wondrous enough.

Euphoria suffused her entire body and mind before Sletran released her. “How do you feel, my beauty?” he asked.

Rachel’s head fell back on his shoulder. She gazed into the Nobek’s watchful blue-purple eyes and smiled her biggest, widest smile.

The bodies against hers shook with laughter. “I believe she is properly primed,” Erybet said.

“Then with your permission, my Dramok?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Erybet rose up on his knees. Sletran’s fingers left her nether sleeve, and Rachel’s lower lip slid forward in a pout. She sucked it right back in when she felt something much bigger readying to take their place.

No way. If he was anywhere near the size of Conyod and Erybet, no fucking way. She couldn’t possibly accept all that.

Somehow the small burst of alarm couldn’t overcome the drugging venom he’d put in her system. She didn’t struggle. The tip of him slipped in, slick and hot and exciting to feel. His sigh rang in her ears.

“That’s it, Ray-Ray. Stay relaxed and easy.”

Erybet added, “If you need to stop to take time to adjust, squeeze my shoulders.”

The heady sensation crept towards a deep ache as Sletran pressed further in. The tight ring of muscles became reluctant to accept him. At the same time, a part of Rachel’s lust and intoxicant-fogged brain enjoyed the domination. Even more exciting was the little bit of fear that if she protested they might still make her take all of Sletran; every last inch of what had to be a monster cock.

All those fantasies I had. The wish Marcus would hold me down and do whatever he wanted to me. I kept quiet about it all those years. I was too scared of what he’d think to ask him for that. Now I’m getting it with Erybet and Sletran.

You wanted it, girl. Now you can damn well accept it from these men who want to give it to you.

When the ache increased to the first bolt of real pain, Rachel didn’t let herself clutch Erybet’s shoulder. Something on her face warned the Dramok however, and he said, “Hold a moment, Sletran.”

The Nobek halted his invasion, and the pain steadied. Even as she panted with the burning torment, Rachel shook her head. She could take it. She wanted to take it.

“Easy,” Erybet murmured, gently kissing her face. “We will take what we desire, but you will desire it just as much. Let your body adjust to ours.”

“My possession of your sweet, round ass is more than halfway,” Sletran added, his growling voice giving her goosebumps. “I will sheath all of myself inside you to our mutual enjoyment. You may be assured of that.”

He eased a little more inside until Rachel panted in reaction. She was clutching Erybet’s shoulders hard now despite efforts not to, the tension she refused to allow in her back end having to assert itself somewhere.

“Such a desire to please,” Erybet said. The blue-purple of his irises were all but lost in the widened pupils. “I will have to give Conyod my sincere thanks for sabotaging our efforts with earlier Mataras.”

Little by little Sletran’s possession continued until at last he said, “There. I am inside of her. She is so tight, I may not last nearly as long as I would like.”

“That makes two of us. We must do our utmost to see to her pleasure, however. Fortunately, she seems as ready for it as we are.”

Rachel thought, I’m ready for it all right. Crammed gloriously, if somewhat painfully full of Kalquorians, she’d never known such an amazing sense of completion. The thought of what it would be like to have Conyod here as well, his forward cock shoved down her throat, made her writhe. It would happen. It had to.

“Easy, Ray-Ray.” Erybet gasped for breath.

He moved, slipping out of her until only the tip of him remained in her slick grasp. Then the Dramok thrust in. As he did so, plunging deep, Sletran slid all but the smallest bit of himself loose. The friction of the two men moving inside her, going in opposite directions, was intense. Then Erybet was withdrawing and Sletran was re-entering. The ache was diminishing, getting lost in the powerful surge of desire. All Rachel could do was hold onto the wide shoulders before her as they plunged into her in turns, thrusting harder and harder as her cries urged them on. The tightness of having two men inside her at once meant heavy pressure on every little sensitive nerve. She was swamped with carnal ecstasy, her body swelling with awesome need. The cocks shoved deep inside, claiming her over and over. She sobbed with the glorious feel of the flesh surrounding and invading her.

Sletran’s voice in her ear was a primal growl. “You must climax, my lovely warrior. I cannot hold off much longer.”

“I have her. Bring her now,” Erybet gasped. His hands tightened on her waist.

Sletran released the grip he had on one of her buttocks. His fingers reached between her legs, where Erybet’s cock dove in and out of her pussy faster and harder than ever. The Nobek found her clit. He pinched.

Rachel’s entire lower body seized as heat and force blasted through her. She shrieked at the ceiling as huge washes of release burst through. Her body twisted and fought the monstrous force having its way with her but was unable to move very much for the two blocks of Kalquorian stone that trapped her. Gorgeous crescendo sizzled all the way up her spine, forcing itself out through screams that tore from her throat.

The pulse ripped free of her, and she sagged bonelessly between the two men still working furiously against her. Rachel bounced like a rag doll over their driving cocks.

Erybet stiffened all over. A cry strained through his clenched teeth, and Rachel felt his dick pulse hugely within her pussy. The next instant Sletran slammed his full length into her and he howled, his cock throbbing in tandem with his clanmate’s. They were filling her pussy and ass with their seed, pumping themselves deep into her. The thought made her clench again, and she groaned as her nether parts clutched at the cocks inside her, as if to milk them of every precious drop they could give.

The air was filled with grunts and moans, the spicy-savory smell of lust realized. The bodies plastered against Rachel’s were moist with sweat, as was hers. She felt and heard the pounding of the men’s hearts, joining the racing of hers. They shook and she trembled as the last sexual expulsions left the group.

The men collapsed on their sides with her still trapped between them. They fell carefully onto the sleeping mat’s forgiving surface. Wrapped in warm, strong bodies, the softening lengths of them still embedded within her as if they belonged there, Rachel smiled. If this was how all her secret fantasies were going to play out, she was going to be a very satisfied woman.

“You are all right, Ray-Ray?” Erybet sounded breathless.

She looked up at his pretty face. Sletran leaned up a little so he could see her too. She marveled at how such rugged features could look so similar to the Dramok’s when they both wore the same satisfied expression. She gave them her biggest smile and a thumbs up. Then she mouthed Wow.

The men chuckled and snuggled her tight between them. “It can’t get much better than that, especially when you add in her screams,” Sletran smirked.

“I’d say we’ve done her proud.” Erybet’s eyes narrowed at Rachel. “I would like to know why you were so reluctant to hand over control though.”

Rachel made tapping motions with her fingers. Sletran moved behind her, careful to not let his cock slip from its shelter. He handed her the handheld.

I was afraid you wanted control over me beyond sex. I thought there might be more involved with your demands.

The Dramok arched an eyebrow at her. “No, Ray-Ray, I wasn’t after your personal power.” He pursed his lips and considered her. “I am the leader of this clan. Sometimes I make decisions not every member likes, but not without careful consideration. And it’s only in matters that affect the clan as a whole. I don’t infringe on personal liberties.”

Rachel thought about that. She thought she understood what he meant.

He quirked a smile. “So long as you get the proper training and can do it nearby, I have no problem with that. The difficulty would be if you wanted to do it far away from where the rest of us work.”

Sletran added, “Conyod has built a very successful career here. When we’re not off fighting, Erybet and I are stationed on this part of Kalquor. It wouldn’t be feasible for us all to pack up and go elsewhere.”

“The Matara’s welfare is always at the top of the Dramok’s list, but I still have to weigh the needs of the entire clan. While I would support and encourage the dreams you hold dearest, I also have to be sure the needs of my Imdiko and Nobek are met.”

Rachel nodded. It was like any family group she’d known on Earth, with Erybet as head of the household. The good of the whole sometimes superseded the wants of an individual.

“I would do my absolute best to make you happy in your life with us,” the Dramok said. “I can’t claim I’ll always get it right.”

Sletran patted his clanmate’s shoulder. “Such is the burden of the clan leader. A good one bears his mistakes with a heavy heart, even when no one else blames him.”

Rachel didn’t miss how Erybet’s smile slipped as he looked at the man spooning behind her. She could see how conscientious he was. That more than anything sealed the deal. She harbored no doubts that she wanted to join this clan.

* * * *

They lay quietly, and Rachel dozed off. Erybet watched her, enjoying the warm feel of her against his body.

Rachel was perfection. The mix of strength and vulnerability she displayed drew him in. Her eagerness for sex was a joyful surprise. Her mind was quick, intelligent. Nevermind she lacked as much education as she wanted. That was easily corrected.

It was no wonder his Imdiko had fallen for the Earther. She was a treasure. As for Sletran…

Erybet looked at his Nobek curled behind her, molding his muscled frame around her. Sletran’s arm wrapped around her torso, his leg around her thighs. Protective and sheltering. Their eyes met, and Sletran smiled. Seeing his clanmate doing what he was meant to do, being the man he was meant to be, eased something in Erybet’s chest. Just as he’d hoped, a Matara to care for was healing Sletran.

Not just any Matara though. It took this one, this special, sweet yet tough woman.

Erybet’s gratitude to Rachel knew no bounds. He could get his Nobek back. He would bring Conyod back into the fold.

The Dramok would have clanned her for that alone. But the feelings she engendered were moving beyond hope and thankfulness. Given time, he was going to fall in love with her. He knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. It warmed him, took away the pain he’d carried home from the war. His fractured clan would not be simply healed; it would be made whole.

No other woman would have made this happen. What do Earthers call it when the one perfect mate is found? A mated soul? No, a soulmate. Rachel is our soulmate.

It was so right, lying here with her. For the first time since he and Sletran had left Conyod to go to war, Erybet felt like himself again.

A low tone sounded in the room. Soldiers to the core, both men carefully but quickly disengaged from Rachel’s body and were up and dressed in a matter of seconds. Sletran hurried ahead of Erybet to the greeting room.

“Identify?” the Nobek barked at the door com.

“High Commander Akrij,” came the familiar voice.

Sletran opened the door immediately. “Commander,” he said, bowing deeply to their superior officer.

Erybet also bowed. “Please, come in. May I offer you something to drink or eat?”

Akrij stepped into the room, waving his hand to halt Erybet as he turned towards the bar. “No. I will only take a moment of your time. How are you two?”

Knowing his commander’s preferences, Erybet motioned to a seating cushion. Akrij folded his long legs, sitting comfortably. As lithe as Sletran was bulky, the High Commander was a streamlined fighter. The lean cast of his face made him look all the more predatory. Akrij was not a leader to sit on the sidelines during action. He was right there with his men, fighting at the front, shoulder to shoulder with the lowest ranks. His speed was legendary, allowing him to take out enemies stronger than himself. His mind was every bit as fast, making him a tactical genius. Men begged to serve under his command.

Erybet and Sletran joined him in the conversation circle. The Dramok told Akrij, “We’ve had our difficulties, but I think we will soon be past all that.”

“I am glad to hear of it. You’re good men, and I look forward to having you back under my command when your leave is up. I’ve come on some rather grim business, I’m afraid. I –”

He suddenly started, his words cut off as he looked behind Erybet, towards the doorway that led to the kitchen. Erybet turned to see Rachel standing in the doorway.

Erybet couldn’t help the smile of delight to see her there. The three men stood to acknowledge the young woman.

Erybet held his hand out to her. Like all commanders who had needed to speak to the former enemy, Akrij spoke the Earther language of English. Glad translating back and forth wouldn’t be an issue, Erybet said, “Come in, my dear. High Commander Akrij, allow me to introduce Matara Rachel Hicks. Ray-Ray, this is my commanding officer. He is also Dr. Kivokan’s Nobek.”

Rachel moved into the room, her light textured pink dress making her dark skin glow. The dress molded beautifully to her curves. It wasn’t blatantly tight, certainly nothing he was embarrassed to have Akrij view, but it did remind him of how he’d enjoyed her body so recently. She moved to stand next to Erybet, and he caught the mingled scents of himself and Sletran on her. His cock twitched.

Damn, she was beautiful.

Akrij’s gaze was appreciative without being untoward. He bowed to her. “A pleasure, Matara.”

Erybet watched as she typed a message on her ever-present handheld. I am glad to meet you, Commander. After he read it, she spoke in her delightfully throaty voice. “Retig.”

Akrij was too considerate to remark on the odd exchange, so Erybet quickly explained, “Rachel is recovering from her own war wounds, Commander. She finds communication a bit tricky still.”

Akrij nodded, his pleasant expression never altering for an instant. “Welcome to our planet, Matara. I trust these men are treating you well? They’d better be.” He mock-scowled at the pair.

She ducked her head a little and gave an embarrassed little smile. Very well, she wrote and peeked up at Erybet as Akrij read. A naughty smile flitted across her lips. Heat coiled in the Dramok’s cocks. He was forced to look away from her.

Akrij gave the handheld back to Rachel. “Erybet, I hadn’t realized your clan had come up on the lottery.”

He nodded. “In the short time we’ve known her, Ray-Ray has been instrumental in healing the hurts Sletran and I suffered during the war.”

That earned a less salacious smile from the Earther. She looked happily surprised. Yes, Erybet would clan her. There was no doubt in his mind on that score.

Rachel quickly tapped another message, one for him. Obviously you have things to discuss with your superior officer. May I sit on the balcony and enjoy the view?

Erybet nodded. “Please do. Any refreshment you like, you are welcome to.”

She smiled and gave them all a little wave goodbye as she backed towards the door. Akrij bowed to her again. “It was a delight to have met you, Matara.”

She left the room, and they listened to the soft padding of her slippered feet on the kitchen floor. There were sounds of her moving about in there as she opened the cooling unit and rooted around the cabinetry. After a few moments of that, her steps faded further away, sounding as if she was on her way to the balcony.

Akrij settled back on his seating cushion. “A most exquisite creature, Erybet and Sletran. I wish you all the best in clanning her.”

The other two men also resumed their seats. Erybet wanted to be with Rachel. He wanted to go ahead and ask her to clan. It was probably rash to do so this quickly, but he was absolutely certain it was right. And he was positive she’d do it, if only for Conyod. That was fine. He and Sletran would have the rest of their lives to charm their Matara.

Getting back to immediate matters, he said, “Thank you, Commander. You were saying you had some business to discuss?”

Akrij nodded, and his face turned grim. “A Matara was discovered murdered today in the commercial area. Right in the middle of the market.”

Sletran stared at his own hands. “We heard. Such a terrible tragedy.”

“What you may not be aware of was that she was mutilated. Dismembered, in fact.”

Erybet jerked. “By the ancestors!” He stared at Akrij in horror.

The sleek warrior’s lips were thin with emotion. “A note was left with the body. My sources tell me it mentioned New Bethlehem. Erybet, Sletran, I know I don’t have to remind you what happened there is to be kept with the greatest secrecy. Given the situation, I felt I had to speak to you.”

Erybet went cold all over. Had the victim been Maria? To think that sweet woman might have been hurt in such a fashion…

He knew he should look at Sletran, to see how his clanmate was reacting, but he was afraid to. He kept his gaze steadily on Akrij. “Of course, Commander. You should know we were approached by Global Security a couple of days ago when a Matara went missing. They questioned us because we had met with her as a lottery option.”

“That would have been before the mention of New Bethlehem.”

Sletran spoke up. His voice was distant, the way it got sometimes just before he disappeared for a few hours. “New Bethlehem did not come up during our conversation with the Global Security officers.”

Akrij took a deep breath. “All right. You know your orders and I have absolute faith that you will follow them. You’re two of my best, after all.”

He started to rise, but Sletran’s next question stopped him. “Commander, what if we continue to have problems coping with what happened there? Surely there are doctors or specialists who can help us cope, put us back to work sooner?”

Akrij’s expression was filled with compassion, and Erybet finally dared to look at his Nobek. Yes, Sletran was wearing that terrible blank look that usually preceded one of his hours-long disappearances. But there was also such pain in his eyes. Erybet’s throat closed to see the misery there.

Akrij put his hand on Sletran’s shoulder. Squeezed. His tone gentle for one so fierce, the high commander said, “It is hard to be inactive, Sletran, especially for one of your drive and ambition. But this must never get out. Remember, my friend, New Bethlehem was not your fault. All of us involved know it. We are in agreement that it is for your protection in particular that what happened doesn’t come to light. You must trust us on this.”

He released Sletran and smiled at the two of them. “I have taken enough of your time, especially with such a beautiful Matara waiting for you. These past few months have been hard, but it is time for you two to live the good lives you deserve once more. I will check on you again in a week or so.”

Erybet somehow found the ability to say, “Thank you, Commander.” He and Sletran stood and followed Akrij to the home’s entrance.

The moment the door slid shut behind their commanding officer, Sletran sagged. His head and shoulders drooped as if he didn’t have the strength left to hold them up. “New Bethlehem. Sometimes I feel I’ll never put that place behind me.”

Erybet took a deep breath. “You must, my Nobek. You can’t undo what happened there, and it’s time you stopped blaming yourself for what you had no control over. Stop letting it run your life. Let it go.”

The Nobek shook his head slowly from side to side. “All those broken bodies, lying in parts all over the place. All those lives ended because of me.”

“It’s over, Sletran.”

“Is it? That dismembered Matara might not agree if she could argue the point. Maybe it will never be over, my Dramok. Maybe it is only beginning.” His head came up and he stared at Erybet. There was fury in his gaze, and his fangs had descended.

Erybet’s heart seemed to freeze in his chest. He steeled himself to not show the stab of fear Sletran’s look gave him. “Stop it, Sletran. With Rachel you have an opportunity to make things right. Focus your thoughts on her, on being her Nobek, her protector.”

All at once the threat in Sletran’s face disappeared, replaced by that terrible blank hopelessness that Erybet knew too well. “Like I protected the others on New Bethlehem? I’m no protector, my Dramok. I’m a monster.”

He turned towards the door. It slid open and he stepped into the waiting transport. “Close. Shuttle dock,” he said.

Erybet lunged for the Nobek, but the command had already been accepted by the carrier. The door slid shut in his face, cutting him off from his clanmate. A low hum announced the transport was already in motion.

There was nothing the Dramok could do but shout impotently, “Sletran, get back here! Sletran!”

The door swished open, and an empty car awaited. Erybet fought off a scream of frustration, not wanting to frighten Rachel out on the balcony. Even if he followed Sletran to the dock, the Nobek would already be gone by the time he got there. And there would be no way to find a man like Sletran, not if he didn’t want to be found.

Erybet’s world lay in shambles once again. Rachel hadn’t cured Sletran after all. Even her need for a strong, protective Nobek had not stopped the terrible madness that possessed the man. The bright hope of only an hour ago had been extinguished.

Chapter 7

Conyod entered the home, hoping the day had gone well and Rachel would still be with his clanmates. As he crossed the greeting room, he heard sounds and detected the smell of food coming from the dining room. He headed there immediately.

Erybet was stone faced, setting out food ordered from the building’s kitchen. Trying not to worry over his clanmate’s expression, Conyod made himself smile. “Four settings. Rachel is still here then?”

Erybet turned to him and offered his own smile. “She’s out on the balcony enjoying the sun and the view.”

“Sletran is with her?” Conyod was surprised the Nobek hadn’t showed off his cooking skills to their would-be Matara.

Erybet turned away. “Commander Akrij stopped by. The visit upset Sletran and he stepped out for a bit. I don’t know where he went.”

Conyod grabbed his Dramok’s shoulder. He made Erybet face him. “Sletran does not ‘step out for a bit’. His behavior is not normal, Erybet. He can’t go on this way. We can’t go on this way as a clan.”

Erybet eyed him, and Conyod readied himself for the same old argument. Instead, his leader shocked him.

Erybet’s shoulders slumped. “I agree. But something wonderful happened before Akrij’s visit. Sletran became like his old self with Rachel. She … invited our attentions today. It made him whole again for a little while.”

Conyod’s heart leapt to hear his beloved had taken that important step of bedding with his clan. She was determined to join them, and the depth of her love for him made him truly happy despite for his worries over Sletran. “Well, that’s a start,” he said, the understatement of all time.

“It is a start. A good one.” Erybet took a deep breath. “When Sletran left, I was at first hopeless. But I keep thinking how he was with her. I know we can build on that progress. You were right about Ray-Ray, Conyod. I want her as our Matara. Not only because she could save Sletran, but because of how she makes me feel.”

The Imdiko hated to disagree with Erybet, especially when his clanmate looked so encouraged for a change. And especially now when having Rachel in his life permanently was within his grasp. But he had to do the right thing, the best thing for them all. Despising the words coming out of his mouth, Conyod said, “She can’t save our Nobek, Erybet. Only coming to terms with what happened to him in the war will do that.”

“I know you’re concerned, and I respect your insight, my Imdiko. But this latest spell came over him after she left the room. I think if she’d been with us the entire time, Sletran wouldn’t have fallen into it. He’s his old self with her. I can see it.”

Conyod wanted so badly to be swept up in Erybet’s newfound hope. He also knew he had to put his traumatized Ray-Ray first. “But you admit reminders of the war set him back again. He’s not here now, is he?” He bit his lip. “I love Ray-Ray with all my heart. I would do anything to have her in my life forever. But if Sletran is a danger to himself or anyone else—” Erybet’s jaw tightened. “He would never hurt her. Conyod, you know him better than anyone. When he commits to someone, he can’t be turned from that.”

The Imdiko swallowed. “I knew him before the war. Until whatever happened to him can be dealt with openly, we won’t get him all the way back.” He looked at Erybet, and the full brunt of the pain he’d carried for the better part of a year swamped over him. His voice almost failed him as he said, “You’ll be lost to me as well because I’m watching as you fall apart too. You may be doing it more quietly than Sletran, but it’s twisting you beyond recognition.”

His Dramok suddenly pulled him roughly into an embrace. His arms wrapped around Conyod in a tight, viselike hold, he whispered, “I’m sorry, my Imdiko. I’ve let you both down, and I’m doing everything I can to make it right.”

Clutching handfuls of Erybet’s shirt in his fists, Conyod begged, “Don’t you know I would keep anything you tell me confidential? Why won’t you trust me? There’s nothing you or Sletran could have done that I won’t forgive. Damn it, you have to know that!”

A tremor ran through the other man. Conyod sensed Erybet’s struggle. All he could do was hold on and hope. After a few moments, the tension bled out of the Dramok’s body. He took a deep breath, his chest moving against Conyod’s.

Finally. Erybet was going to tell him what had gone so terribly wrong during the war. Conyod could feel the weight his leader bore shifting, ready to fall away.

The soft pad-pad sound of small feet on the stone floor of the balcony outside warned them of Rachel’s imminent arrival. The moment between the two men passed, and Erybet gently pushed away from Conyod, turning to smile at Rachel as she walked into the room.

Conyod wanted to scream. Not at Rachel, whose face made his heart throb painfully with emotion. Not at Erybet, who’d finally been ready to let him in. But at stupid, ever-capricious fate, which had thwarted his attempt to fix his broken clan.

He struggled to smile at his beloved as Erybet said, “Look who’s home, Ray-Ray. And just in time for our meal. I don’t know how much longer Sletran will be with his errand, so we may as well eat.”

Rachel beamed at Conyod, her love for him shining from her eyes. The Imdiko wrapped its warmth around him, finding solace in her regard. He went to her, taking consolation in that at least one part of his life worked well. He enveloped her sweetness in his arms and pretended everything was all right. “Hello, my love,” he whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

* * * *

The Nobek stood in the shadows of the market watching others walk by. He did not worry about being seen, at least not by the ones he watched closest. Earther eyes were notoriously weak in the dark. And at this hour, intoxication was beginning in earnest among alien and Kalquorian alike. It helped that the market’s overhead vid screen showed none of Kalquor’s moons had climbed high enough to lend their light to the merrymaking. Only the illumination lines on either side of the main walkways and ambient light of the businesses disturbed the perfect dark.

The eateries were busy tonight, as were the clubs. A series of dull thuds reverberated from the one across the walkway. The more uninhibited unclanned Mataras liked to gather there, moving their tiny bodies to the pulse of Bi’isil tribal music while hopeful clans watched the alluring display. Kalquor had changed greatly since he’d left for the war. If not for the ever-present threat of the innocent-seeming Earther women, he’d have appreciated the more joyful atmosphere. Hope these days flowed as freely as the leshella the Earther females liked to drink, supplied by eager men looking to please. Optimism, a strange and exotic mindset after centuries of living under the threat of extinction, had cloaked the Empire.

And it was all a lie.

He thought of the pleasing faces of women, of their sweet smiles. The way they could look with warm gazes at men. The haunted agony that lurked behind their expressive eyes. The Earther women knew pain. They knew heartache. It moved behind their hopeful faces, plain to see for one who knew such horrors. Perhaps that was what made all their kind such monsters. Women of Earth had been marginalized and often treated harshly by their government. Of course it must have twisted them. It made sense. Sometimes he could almost feel sorry for their plight.

But mostly he hated them for what they’d done to his men. For what they would do to his world, given the chance. Scarred, battered, and utterly compelling, the Earther Mataras would sneak into the heart of the Empire and destroy it. They had to be stopped.

Yet his mind turned to sympathy once again, where he felt more want than anger. Some were such beauties. It was often hard to cut into soft, warm skin, to mar it with his blade. To remove sturdy legs, slim arms, and perfect oval-shaped heads. To take a gorgeous whole and render it into parts so that a woman was no longer pretty, could no longer entice and lie with her body.

It was terrible to have such responsibility foisted on him, but he’d faced harsh duties before. Had carried them out not just with a sense of pride, but with honor, knowing it was the best for all concerned. And if he couldn’t sleep well, if nightmares followed him even during the waking hours, if even his clanmates looked at him in confusion or fear, then he would live with it. For their own good. For the good of the Empire.

A trio of laughing Earther females passed him by, the scent of alcohol overlaying the warm aromas of their bodies, the sting of their colognes. They’d been enjoying themselves to great distraction, and continued to do so, the slender bottles of leshella gripped in their hands. They didn’t notice him standing there in the pool of darkness, didn’t sense how his eyes followed them as they made their way towards the market exit, probably heading to the Matara complex. Sometimes one would stagger a little, making her companions laugh louder as they grabbed hold to keep anyone from falling. Every Kalquorian man in the vicinity paused to smile and bow and watch them make their happy way.

The Nobek started after them, walking casually so as not to draw attention to himself. The Earthers were so easy to take when they drank, completely without any ability to defend themselves. And there was a stretch of perhaps half a mile between the market and Earther Matara complex where foot traffic would be light, sometimes nonexistent. The new monitors that recorded the path where he’d taken two other victims did not trouble him. He thought his device would thwart those as easily as the ones in the Matara complex.

The new sentry stations also worried him little. They were manned mostly by Nobeks just out of training camps and set beyond sight distance apart from each other. Far from deterring him, the latest security measures instead goaded him to chance capture. He relished the opportunity to show the Earthers they had no defense against the righteous judgment of the Beast of New Bethlehem.

If he could time his attack just right, it would be nothing for a man of his abilities to overcome three inebriated Earther women. He planned to quickly kill two and knock the third unconscious. He’d hide the bodies in the underground wooded area where the others lay undetected. Then all he had to do was spirit the one still living to his special place only an hour’s shuttle ride away. There, the punishment for her people’s sins would commence until she apologized for her misbegotten race’s wrongdoings. Finally, he would kill her and make her into a warning for the rest. The Beast of New Bethlehem would make them all pay.

He thought about the look he’d gotten of them as they’d walked past. He already knew which one he wanted to concentrate his energies on. They were all fair skinned with long hair, nothing like the woman he truly wanted to capture, the lovely, doe-eyed female who no longer spoke her own language. That was the woman he ached to take away. But one of his quarry was shaped similar to the one he desired above all others. She had that poignant mix of pain and hope etched into her eyes despite the leshella’s attempts to erase past sadness. That was the one he would take to his hideaway. He’d use her torture and death to prepare him for the ultimate prize. She would ready him to kill the one who tried to bend his indomitable will with compassion he couldn’t afford to have.

The Nobek left the marketplace at a discreet distance behind his prey, and then veered into the stand of trees that ran along the trail leading to the complex. He kept pace with their drunken progress and waited for the moment when he could take them right out from under the noses of those who truly deserved protection. Then all three of these beautiful monsters would be the unlucky winners of his personal lottery tonight, and Kalquor would be made a little safer.

* * * *

Erybet leaned close to offer Rachel a morsel from one of the serving trays. “Have you tried pilchok before? Many Earthers find it reminds them of a sweet from your home. It comes from a bird native to Kalquor.”

Rachel let him feed her the small bite with a giggle. For one thing, it was funny for a big man like the Dramok to feed her like a devoted slave. For another, she was putting on as happy a face as she could because she felt the tension between him and Conyod. The Imdiko sat on the other side of her, hovering with as much dedication, waiting to feed her a bite of something else.

Erybet grinned. “Yes, I know it is strange for you to be fed. It is our custom, one of the many ways we try to serve Mataras to let them know of our esteem for them.”

Rachel chewed the flaky, pastry-like food. It sure wasn’t like any bird she’d ever eaten. She’d never know in a million years it was meat. It was very good. She could definitely get used to eating it … and being fed like a queen. She swallowed her mouthful and turned to Conyod, batting her eyes.

Conyod laughed, and she relaxed to see the tension between his brows ease. “Oh, so you enjoy having men waiting on you. Careful, Erybet. This one will be spoiled if we’re not careful.”

Rachel tapped her handheld. Having you wait on me seems perfectly reasonable. Who am I to criticize Kalquorian customs?

She gave them both her sauciest grin, which they answered with chuckles. She sensed the men were loosening up, thank goodness.

Swallowing another delicious tidbit, Rachel noted a smudge of sauce on Erybet’s lower lip. She raised up to lick it off, earning a surprised look. He choked a little on what he’d been chewing.

Conyod’s eyebrows rose. “Hmm. If that’s how you clean …” He set the morsel of pilchok he’d been waiting to feed her on his lap, leaned back, and smiled innocently.

Erybet roared with laughter at his Imdiko’s antics. Rachel gave Conyod a mock scowl. He was completely unrepentant, but he did reach to take the pilchok from his crotch. “I only joke, my sweet.”

Rachel bent down hurriedly to get to the food before he could take it away from its very delectable setting. While she was down there, she gave him a playful nip.

Conyod yelped a little and laughed. “Naughty girl. Let’s see how you like it.”

He tugged down the front of Rachel’s dress and plopped a blob of vegetable paste on her breast. He then proceeded to lick it off slowly, to her immeasurable delight.

“My turn,” Erybet growled when the Imdiko was done. He mimicked the same action with her other breast.

Their mouths on her breasts sent warm, ticklish sensations down lower. Rachel groaned as the Dramok drew on the soft flesh, his teeth scraping deliciously against her skin. He rose from his ‘feast’ with a happy sigh.

Rachel decided the boys hadn’t had nearly enough. I’m no appetizer. I’m a main course, she thought, and began pushing the dishes before them to the farther edges of the table.

“Ray-Ray?” Conyod said, his brows drawn together in confusion.

As soon as she’d cleared enough space, Rachel turned away from the table and laid back, so that its surface supported her torso. She laced her fingers behind her head with her arms splayed out. Then she wiggled her eyebrows at the two men watching her.

Lust and delight suffused their features as they figured out what she was up to. But when Conyod leaned towards her, Erybet barred him with one arm. “No, if we do this, we do it right. The entire buffet belongs on the table.”

Conyod’s happy smile signaled his agreement. The two men pulled Rachel’s dress entirely off her body. As usual, she couldn’t help but cringe when she was totally exposed. She made herself relax when not only did the men pretend not to notice her sudden tension, but they continued to be very aroused to judge from the erections straining their pants. They quickly rearranged the table, putting some dishes on the floor, so that they could lay Rachel out full length upon it.

“Hands back behind your head again, like you did before,” Conyod said.

Rachel did as told, her heart beating fast in anticipation.

“Good. Now don’t move.”

The two men began dishing out the dinner all over her body. As they arranged the meal so it wouldn’t fall off her, they fed her bites until her stomach was full. She fought not to wiggle when ticklish parts were handled, though she huffed warnings at them from time to time.

At last Erybet leaned back to take in the view. He grinned at his clanmate. “She already looked delicious, but now she’s a feast. Where to start?”

Conyod’s gaze wandered all over the landscape of her body clad in the men’s dinner. “From the top and we’ll work our way down.”

“Makes sense. I know what I want for dessert.” Erybet stared at her crotch. It was covered by a bowl-shaped leaf filled with tiny green pea-shaped roe. “And I’m not talking about the rizpah eggs.” His searing gaze made Rachel hot all over.

The men went to work on their feast. Their rough tongues lapped every hint of vegetable paste and every dollop of whipped potatoes from her skin. Their teeth nipped gently where they nibbled at chunks of ronka meat, pilchok, and roast beef. They sucked on her flesh where juices ran in rivulets. They especially lingered in the spots that made her wriggle helplessly.

Erybet gently chastised her. “Now, now, my lovely little buffet. You were told to be still. If you can’t behave, I’ll have to put you over my knee.”

He’d been licking an especially sensitive place, the tiny indentation between belly and hipbone. That ticklish spot rendered her unable to stay still. It didn’t help that Conyod was eagerly lapping fish eggs from right over her mound. The two sensations made it impossible not to squirm.

At Erybet’s threat of a spanking, a thrill chased down Rachel’s spine. Marcus used to playfully pop her rear once in awhile when she’d been particularly naughty with her teasing. The warmth of her bottom from such strikes had always gotten her wet. She’d thought of asking her long-ago lover to spank her like a child but had never gotten the nerve up to do so. She’d been afraid he’d think her strange. Heck, she thought it was a little strange.

Now I’ll never know, not with him. But perhaps these guys, with their liking for bondage…?

Conyod had been watching her with half-lidded eyes as his feeding brought him closer and closer to uncovering her mound. Now a jet-black eyebrow rose. “I do believe our little Ray-Ray might want to be disciplined.”

Erybet paused licking that tender area that was driving her crazy. “Are you a naughty girl, my sweet?” His voice was gentle, but he nipped her skin hard enough to make it sting. Rachel gasped with the sudden stab of acute arousal. The warm wash of soft passion had a more assertive nature.

Erybet licked low, almost to the crease between thigh and mound before the lettuce cup got in the way. “Would you like to know how it feels when a man makes your pretty rump hot from a spanking?” he growled.

Rachel swallowed. Want, huge and demanding, rolled through her belly. The waft of cinnamon scent told her the men felt just as excited about the prospect as she. She nodded two quick jerks of her head.

Both men growled that time. Looking like her gentle therapist’s evil, lustful twin, Conyod said, “After our meal is finished, you will be properly chastised.”

There wasn’t much left of that meal, and both men made no pretense of hurrying through the last of it. Conyod tossed aside the leaf cup at the end and dragged his tongue over her soaked slit. Rachel cried out as hunger surged through her pussy. Then Erybet had a lick too.

“Very wet,” he proclaimed. “I bet we can get you wetter.”

He sat on the edge of the table. Conyod picked her up and settled her facedown across the long, sleekly muscled legs of his Dramok. Rachel felt Erybet’s erections press against her hip. He caressed her ass, his hands big and warm. Strong. A spanking from those hands would hurt. Suddenly she was very tense and afraid. But she was also churning out juices, practically gushing at the thought of the Dramok wearing her ass out.

What is wrong with me?

Erybet’s voice was breathy, but he sounded careful as well. “Rachel, can you say the word sholt?”

She licked her dry lips. “Sholt.”

Conyod stroked her head and leaned down so he could look her in the eyes. “Very good. That is Kalquorian for ‘stop’.”

Erybet’s voice over her head was as warm as his hands. “I have no intention of making you suffer, my sweet. This spanking is only for play and our mutual pleasure. If at any time you are uncomfortable, whether it be emotionally or physically, say sholt. I will stop immediately.”

Conyod gave her an encouraging smile. They were so careful with her. They made her feel something she couldn’t claim too often: safe. She smiled back at the Imdiko and nodded.

He said, “Stay relaxed, Ray-Ray. It hurts more if you tense up.”

She nodded again and concentrated on making herself soft and easy. Erybet continued to caress her rump, tracing its curves with a delicate touch. “So beautiful. You’ll be watching her, Conyod?”

“Carefully.”

Erybet sighed. One hand drifted from her butt up her spine, settling at the middle of her back. It flattened out and pressed her against his thigh. He was holding her down. Keeping her still for his discipline. Desire stabbed through Rachel’s pussy. It was coming.

The hand still on her ass disappeared. Then a meaty clap resounded through the room. It took a moment before Rachel’s right ass cheek pulsed to life. She jerked a little, her eyes widening. Warmth suffused where his hand still lay, and there were little darts of pain at the edges. As discipline went, he’d been pretty gentle.

She relaxed. Well, it wasn’t the mindblowing excitement she’d hoped for, nor the agony-filled torture she’d feared. It was okay. A little kinky, so it was kind of fun in a taboo sort of way.

Erybet’s hand lifted again. Another clap, this one louder than the first. Her left cheek suddenly blazed to life, the pain sharper this time. She jumped, jerked her head up, met Conyod’s dark gaze with wide eyes. He watched her intently, and Erybet paused again.

Rachel’s backside throbbed a little with her heartbeat. It was warm. So warm. The heat tickled its way into her pussy, making something inside turn over. This was better than just okay. This was good.

Rachel closed her eyes. She waited. Erybet’s hand disappeared again.

Smack, smack, smack, smack!

The quick torrent of slaps crashed against her bottom, and she yelped in surprise. Then burning bright agony swept over her ass, and she writhed. Erybet’s hand kept her pinned down, making Rachel aware of his absolute control over her. She had nowhere to go. No way to escape, should he choose to ignore her plea for him to stop. She was defenseless and completely at his mercy.

Devouring arousal tore through her guts. Something inside took the pain and helplessness and turning it into need greater than she’d ever known before. She gasped against the fiery heat spreading from her ass straight to her pussy. Heaven and earth, something was really wrong with her, but she was getting off on the punishment. She wanted more.

“Sholt, Rachel?” Conyod’s voice seemed to come from a million miles away.

Sholt? Was he kidding? She wished she had learned the Kalquorian phrase for ‘keep it fucking coming’.

She thrust her hips up, begging for more of that heavy, exacting hand. Erybet’s rumble was delighted. “That is definitely not a request to stop.” His fingers slid to bathe in the flow of her pussy. “By the ancestors, she’s soaked. You really did find us the perfect Matara, my Imdiko. All right then, little one. A good, firm round of discipline to make us all very happy.”

The thigh supporting hers moved so that her pelvis rested on it instead. Conyod sat up and moved over to pillow her head on his leg. Then Erybet gave her a real spanking, such as not even her parents had ever given her.

The air filled with sharp reports, sobbing gasps, and little squeals. Rachel’s world narrowed to one of burning heat and piercing arousal. She bucked and fought to break free, and the firm hand holding her down gave her no escape.

She did not say sholt.

Through the pain she became aware of how her jerks moved her clit against Erybet’s thigh. Shocks of need fed the inferno of the spanking, and she rubbed hard against the muscled expanse. She completely forgot about trying to get away from that pounding hand slapping her backside. She had to come. Groans interrupted her cries as she worked to find nirvana.

She got hotter and wetter by the moment. Moaning, she braced her hands against the table between the support of Conyod and Erybet’s legs. Her feet dug for purchase against the surface, trying to find some way to make better, stronger contact with the thigh holding her butt up for its punishment. Her clit scraped against him, but she just couldn’t get the right angle to make the teasing orgasm hit.

Erybet rumbled something in Kalquorian, and Conyod answered. The Dramok shifted his leg, removing the tantalizing pressure Rachel had been determined to get more of. Before she could scream the protest that barreled up her throat, Conyod leaned over her. His fingers groped down her lower belly, zeroing in on her mound. She keened a desperate, wordless plea. The next instant his fingers closed over the swollen nub.

The searing heat from Erybet’s spanking had reached a crescendo. Rachel felt her total helplessness against the two men as they controlled her body, her ass, her clit. Climax burst through her, shattering from the inside out. She shrieked as if in hell rather than heaven as blinding white starbursts … one, two, three, four … rocketed through her.

The spanking ended as she writhed helplessly against the pounding strength of her body’s reaction. Conyod continued to stroke her clit, insisting on releasing every last mote of tension from her pussy. When her jerks eased to shudders, he finally released her to lie limp across their legs.

Rachel thought she might never move under her own power ever again. She didn’t care. Loose-limbed satisfaction reigned, making her as weak as a newborn.

She became aware that Erybet’s erection against her hip was pulsing. Wet warmth spread through his clothing to dampen her skin. Both he and Conyod breathed with hurricane force.

The Dramok’s low voice sounded strained. “She is perfect, my Imdiko.”

“She absolutely is.”

Rachel heard the warmth and adoration in both voices. She smiled.

Erybet picked her up. With Conyod following, he took her to the clan’s sleeping room and laid her gently on the mat. Both men stripped their clothes off and cleaned themselves in the small attached facility before climbing in on either side of her. She snuggled between them, much as she had with Erybet and Sletran earlier that day.

She looked up into Erybet’s face, feeling how he and Conyod were both growing hard against her again. The Dramok smiled at her, and the care in his expression made her heart swell. He felt every bit as right to her as Conyod did.

Okay, there’s no way I’m already in love with this guy. Not so soon, right? Love at first sight, or first couple of fucks, is only in fairytales. It’s gotta be infatuation.

It was something, however. There was no doubting the ache in her chest as she looked at both the Dramok and the Imdiko, the ache that said if either of them disappeared, she would be bereft. Yes, she was absolutely forming an attachment to Erybet, at the very least. And it had nothing to do with him being Conyod’s clanmate and the one person who could keep her from her adored Imdiko.

She could live with that. Two out of three were good odds, and she thought Sletran might just make it a unanimous decision if his trauma could be overcome.

* * * *

Despite wearing himself, Conyod, and Rachel out with lovemaking, Erybet couldn’t sleep. The night hours became early morning, and still Sletran didn’t return home. He wondered if he should go looking for his Nobek, but he didn’t have a clue where to start. At last he slipped out of the bed and padded down the hall. He sat in the greeting room to wait. One moment he enjoyed contentment in knowing his Imdiko and would-be Matara slept sound and safe in his bed. The next he fidgeted with the worry of where Sletran might be.

It was only two hours before daylight when the Nobek walked in the door. Grass and leaves and a few bright flower petals clung to his ankles and shoes. He walked right past Erybet, who had risen from his seat.

Erybet stormed on his heels. “Sletran, where have you been?”

Sletran stopped and turned. He stared right into Erybet’s face, but the terrible blankness in his eyes told the Dramok he didn’t see him.

“Sletran. Sletran,” Erybet called urgently. He had to restrain himself from shaking his clanmate. If he startled Sletran, the Nobek might react in a threatening manner. Erybet had to settle for snapping his fingers in front of the other man’s face.

Sletran blinked. Awareness flooded into his expression and his eyelids fluttered. He looked at his Dramok in confusion. “What … Erybet?”

“Where have you been?”

“I – I was –” he looked around himself, at the room. His gaze returned to Erybet. “Weren’t we just speaking with Commander Akrij?”

“That was hours ago. It’s the middle of the night.” The clan leader’s chest tightened.

“I left?” Sletran glanced down at his feet.

Erybet looked too. He recognized the tiny purple and white flowers clinging to his Nobek’s shoes and ankles. The same type of blooms had been planted near the entrance to the Earther Matara compound.

Sletran frowned. “Did I go see Rachel?”

Erybet gripped his chin and made him look him in the eye. “Sletran, you must think hard. Where were you?”

The command from his clan and company leader brought the immediate obedience ingrained in the Nobek’s demeanor. “I … I was somewhere crowded. The market perhaps. Yes, that’s where I went. I was watching people visiting the clubs and restaurants. Many Mataras. Before that, I went somewhere else. I went to the compound. I wanted to know…” His eyes went distant again.

Now Erybet did shake him a little. The tightness climbed up from his chest to his throat, trying to choke him. “What? What were you looking for?”

Something dark flitted through Sletran’s eyes. “The guards. I wanted to know where the security was most lax. I wanted to know how easy it would be to get into the compound.”

Erybet shuddered. He thought of Global Security’s visit the day before. He thought of the dismembered Matara found in the market. He thought of Rachel. “Why would you want to know that?”

“New Bethlehem. I have to stop another New Bethlehem from happening. Erybet, why am I doing this?”

Fear was foreign to Sletran, but Erybet saw the naked emotion on his clanmate’s face, a terror that mirrored what was in the Dramok’s heart.

He squeezed Sletran’s shoulder. “I don’t know, my friend. But I’m going to find a way to make it better. I promise. Go get yourself cleaned up and get some sleep.”

When Sletran didn’t move right away, Erybet squeezed the Nobek’s shoulder again. Sletran still looked frightened and confused but he obeyed Erybet as readily as ever. He walked out of the greeting room, silently moving down the hall to the sleeping room where Rachel and Conyod slumbered.

Erybet dropped onto the lounger, his legs suddenly too weak to support him. It didn’t matter how much of a security issue the New Bethlehem matter was; he had to make Akrij listen. Sletran had to have help immediately.

Erybet was a company commander and a good soldier. But he was a Dramok first, and he had to save his Nobek from the madness that threatened to claim him.

Chapter 8

At work the next morning, Conyod found himself reading the latest test results on a catatonic Matara for the fifth time. He’d reached the end of the document yet again without making a single note on the case. He sighed. His mind was definitely not on his work.

Erybet had fallen in love with Rachel. Conyod knew the signs from his Dramok all too well, and it made part of his spirit soar. He’d been sure his clan leader would see how wonderful she was, but it was still a relief to see that belief borne out. One more obstacle had been overcome.

At the same time, Sletran’s behavior was not improving enough. This morning, the Nobek had been withdrawn for the most part. True, he did respond to Rachel when expected, but he was maintaining a distance, almost as if he was afraid to be too close to her.

Conyod loved Rachel. The thought of not being with her made him hurt inside. But the old worries nagged at him as well. Erybet was putting too much hope into her presence curing Sletran. And what would happen if the Nobek lost control again, perhaps hurting himself?

I’m in over my head. I can’t see anything clearly anymore. I have to talk to someone.

Of course, that someone was always Dr. Hupsan. Just as Conyod had gently pulled a number of tattered patients away from the brink of self-destruction, so Hupsan had done for him when he was still very young.

That’s not quite right, is it? It was Sletran who pulled me back from the edge. Hupsan kept me from going back for another look into the chasm.

Conyod kept no secrets from his former psychologist and longtime mentor. Hupsan was well aware of the problems he had faced since his clanmates had returned home from the war. It was because of Hupsan that Erybet and Sletran still had an Imdiko that came home to them.

“You learned long ago you can’t run away from your problems, Conyod,” his old friend had told him only five months earlier. “You must stay with them and see this thing through to the end. Sooner or later, the secrecy will end.”

But would it end in time to safely clan Rachel?

With Rachel no longer in residence at the hospital and no new patient assigned to Conyod in her place, he had a stretch of time to himself. Though his Nobek father Vel was in the capital again to conduct business, Conyod had begged off meeting with his parent. He didn’t want the overprotective Nobek in his private matters. He needed an objective opinion, and he needed it now. Erybet could ask Rachel to clan at any moment.

Hupsan picked up Conyod’s vid call almost immediately. Pure white strands had worked their way in to his braided black hair. The smile lines in his kind face were etched deep. “Conyod! It is so good to hear from you. I’ve been wondering how you and your clan are doing.”

Conyod couldn’t help but smile at the warmth. “It’s been too long, and I apologize for not keeping in better touch.”

“Not at all. Life has a habit of superseding good intentions. So how are you?”

“Wonderful in some aspects, terrible in others.” He took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you at length.”

“Go right ahead if it’s convenient for you.” The way the vid transmitted Hupsan’s image, it looked as if he folded his arms on Conyod’s desk instead of his own. It was almost as if his trusted friend sat right there across from him.

Conyod had hoped Hupsan had time, but he didn’t want to impose. “I’m not interrupting? I can com later when you have time.”

“You’ve caught me between clients on a slow day.” The other Imdiko’s smile never wavered, but his gaze sharpened. “What’s wrong?”

“We have the opportunity to clan a Matara. Not that anything is wrong with that,” Conyod added quickly. “She’s wonderful, just absolutely perfect. I can’t begin to tell you how happy she makes me.”

“And Erybet and Sletran?”

“Erybet adores her too. Sletran shows great affection and has said he wants to take care of her.”

“It sounds like they’re doing better.”

Conyod sucked in his lower lip before answering. “Some issues have improved. Sletran occasionally laughs again. He even jokes. But overall, I’m not really seeing any substantial changes in either of them. Whatever the war did to them, they’re both still showing the same signs of trauma. Erybet’s lost his ability to make good decisions. Sletran disappears for hours at a time and doesn’t tell us where he’s been.”

“Have they told you anything of what happened during the war?”

“They’re still under orders of silence from their superiors. I’m convinced Sletran is a danger to himself, and I’m terrified of bringing Rachel into our clan when we have a Nobek who might be falling apart.”

Hupsan pursed his lips. “How is Sletran around her?”

“That’s the part that makes this so hard for me. When Sletran is interacting with her, he’s almost normal again. Erybet too. I’m lost, Hupsan. I want Ray-Ray with me so bad, and I can tell Erybet feels the same way. He’s pushing to bring her in, hoping she’ll fix Sletran.”

His mentor stroked his chin. “Having a Matara might alleviate some of Sletran’s crisis, but there’s a strong likelihood it will only be temporary.”

Conyod nodded. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Ray-Ray’s been through her own trauma and she needs strong men, not this broken mess we’ve become. I know they’re under orders, but if I just had some clue as to what happened, maybe I could help them.”

“Well, I would never advise you to push your clanmates into revealing secrets that might set them up for a court martial.” Hupsan’s brow arched. “But you could assure them that anything they tell you would remain private; that it would remain between the three of you. Secrets within a clan are never a good idea. Meanwhile, you should impress on Erybet how imperative it is that you not bring in someone so vulnerable as your Rachel at this time. Is there any fear she will join another clan?”

That was something else to make some of the dark clouds over Conyod’s head a little less dense. “No. I am certain of her.”

Hupsan’s smile returned. “Then take your time. Let your clan get healthy.”

“Thank you. I guess I just needed someone to tell me what I already knew was right.”

“We all need that sometimes, Conyod.” The elder Imdiko hesitated. “I would like to make another recommendation, if I may?”

“Of course. I welcome any advice you can give me.”

“When you are certain Erybet and Sletran are as ready to clan Rachel as you are, make whole-clan therapy a condition of doing so.”

Conyod blinked. “All of us? Together?”

“Absolutely. If you clan, you’ll have three clanmates with trauma, along with your own.”

“Me? But my issues were cleared years ago.”

“The issue of your missing brother and the way your parents treated you has been dealt with. But now you’re living with a very troubled clan. It’s affecting you adversely, Conyod. You’re showing an abnormal amount of stress. You need help before you fall back into the same situation you were in before. Or are you still having notions of hiding from your clanmates?”

Conyod sighed. He had admitted to Hupsan that he had thought of simply walking out on the pair a few months ago. Clanning was for life, and Conyod couldn’t break the ties legally, but he’d gone as far as researching how to disappear. Not that he had been quite ready to take that extreme step.

Or so he’d thought until Hupsan had questioned him about his motives. That conversation made Conyod examine closely how close he was to doing it. It turned out he was right on the brink.

The consequences of such actions would be extreme. If Conyod left Erybet and Sletran and got caught, the authorities would get involved. His Dramok and Nobek would be investigated for abuse. Conyod would be placed in a psychological trauma facility under guard until the situation was worked out to the court’s satisfaction. It would be a nightmare, just like when he’d escaped the conditions of his parents’ home as a youth.

The Imdiko did not want to shame his clanmates, especially when they already suffered. Still, he’d had the stray thought that the resulting investigation would force Erybet’s hand, would make him finally admit to whatever had happened during the war.

The growing love Conyod had felt for Rachel had ended the drive to escape his clan. While still miserable at home, he simply couldn’t imagine not seeing her every day. He resumed trying to force Erybet to own up to the mess they’d become. Now things were a little better, and he was determined to fix the clan so Rachel could become a part of it.

“I’ve been under a lot of stress, but I haven’t thought of leaving the clan for several weeks ” he told Hupsan. “Clan counseling is still probably a good idea.”

“I see I’ve given you a lot to think about. Will you call me in a week and let me know how things are?”

“Of course. And if I don’t, please com me just in case I’ve forgotten.”

“Because life keeps happening,” Hupsan chuckled. His understanding smile was exactly the same that had soothed a younger overwrought Conyod so many times.

* * * *

High Commander Akrij hadn’t hesitated for a moment when Erybet begged for an audience. “Come in immediately,” the Nobek had told him.

Now Erybet sat opposite Akrij, facing him across the table that the officer used for a desk. Despite his advanced rank, Akrij never put on airs. He was content with sitting cross-legged on seating cushions on the same level as his visitors. No other furnishings crowded his office, making it spacious. The only sign of his superior standing was the fact he had a real window in his office instead of the usual vid monitor. It overlooked the training grounds, on which squadrons of Nobeks ran drills.

Erybet and Sletran ran the same drills every day, keeping a military routine as best they could during their enforced leave. Nonetheless, the last months of inaction had left the Dramok feeling adrift. For Sletran, it had to be a thousand times worse. An idle Nobek was a troubled Nobek. The breed simply wasn’t suited for sitting at home and relaxing for more than a couple of hours of waking time.

Erybet had fretted over leaving Sletran alone with Rachel for the time it would take to meet with Akrij. But Sletran had seemed fine when the clan leader left, contentedly making lists of the beautiful Earther’s favorite meals and the ingredients the recipes required. And the fierce protectiveness that had been such a major part of the Nobek’s makeup for all the time Erybet had known him was very much in evidence as he kept near Rachel.

Akrij had been on a com call when Erybet was welcomed into his office, and he waited quietly, watching the soldiers outside as they practiced hand to hand combat. It made him wish for happier days, when he would be directing such drills. He, Sletran, and his other group commanders would pace the lines, barking out orders and encouragements. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they’d done such things.

Akrij ended his call. He immediately gave Erybet his complete attention. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. The administrative part of my position is my least favorite and seems to take up the most of my time.”

Erybet nodded. While the prestige of advancing was every man’s source of pride, the responsibilities of a more boring nature grew. “I completely understand. Not only do you prefer to fight on the front lines, the men under your command love to have you at our sides.”

“It beats sitting behind this desk. I should never have let them promote me. I think it’s made me soft.”

Erybet’s eyes widened. “You, Commander? Not a chance.”

Akrij snorted. “Enough about me. I’m surprised to see you again so soon, Erybet. Something has come up?”

The Dramok drew a deep breath. “It’s Sletran, sir. I’m truly concerned for his wellbeing. New Bethlehem is preying on his mind and –” Erybet’s eyes lowered. The words tried to stick in his throat and it took real effort to get them out. “I think he may be experiencing a breakdown.”

A trickle of a growl escaped Akrij. At first, Erybet had a jolt of horror as he thought the high commander’s expression of disgust was for Sletran. But Akrij’s scowl wasn’t aimed at his Nobek after all.

“That place destroyed a lot of lives. I don’t know of anyone under my command who hasn’t been affected by the tragedies there.” The spark of anger was replaced by concern, and Erybet relaxed as Akrij leaned toward him. “Is it lost sleep? Violent outbursts?”

“He loses time. He has periods where he leaves our home and wanders around without realizing what he’s doing. You saw how he hacked off his hair. Our Imdiko is concerned he could do something even more harmful to himself.”

Akrij frowned. “You haven’t told your Imdiko what happened, have you Erybet? I can’t impress upon you how adamant the Imperial Commander is about keeping the events of New Bethlehem quiet. The potential damage such information could do to public morale would be devastating. Things are already at a low what with the rebellion growing worse.”

Erybet wasn’t about to share how close he’d come to telling his worried clanmate everything. “Conyod knows nothing. Commander, I’m desperate. I really think Sletran is in serious trouble that a year’s respite from his duties won’t fix. There has to be something that can be done to help him come to terms with what happened.”

Akrij sat, looking at Erybet with quiet compassion. He’d always been thoughtful of his troops. Erybet knew he weighed every order carefully, determined to do the best by the men under his command.

Finally he nodded. “Erybet, I am not about to dismiss your concerns. Nothing is more disturbing than seeing one of your men suffer. And when it’s a clanmate, the agony can take over your life.”

“It’s been very difficult,” Erybet said, his voice quiet.

“Excuse my bluntness, but you are in some difficulty yourself, aren’t you?”

Erybet jerked. True, he had frequent bouts of nightmares, lost sleep, and an urge to take out anger in inappropriate ways sometimes. He’d buried it under his drive to find an avenue to make Sletran better. The Dramok had thought he was hiding his own problems from everyone but Conyod, who knew him too damned well to let him get away with the farce.

But sharp-eyed Akrij, ever vigilant for his men’s difficulties, had seen the truth too. Erybet could only nod, dropping his gaze once more.

Akrij sighed. “You and Sletran are my very best. If you two are doing that badly, I must find a way to help. Do not doubt for a second that your welfare is a priority to me.”

Erybet detected no censure in his tone, and he relaxed. As a Dramok in an army made up of more than 90 percent Nobeks, he had more to prove than most. That Akrij didn’t think less of him for his weaknesses – that he considered Erybet to be one of his best – went a long way to making him feel better. He’d truly been fortunate to have Akrij as his commanding officer.

Akrij turned to his computer and tapped out something. “Give me a few days to speak with those in higher authority. I’ll impress upon them your and Sletran’s complete loyalty to Kalquor and your flawless records before New Bethlehem. I’ll push for you to receive the assistance you need until it comes through.”

It took all of Erybet’s pride to not sag in utter relief. “Thank you, Commander. Thank you so much. Not so much for myself, but I’ve been worried for Sletran. Whatever is needed from me to make things right for him, I’ll do without hesitation.”

“He’s going to be all right, Erybet. We’ll end that war for him once and for all.”

Akrij’s confidence gave Erybet strength. His gratitude to the High Commander knew no bounds in that moment.

* * * *

Rachel watched Sletran with some concern. The man simply couldn’t seem to stay still. He paced like a caged lion even as he taught her how to speak simple Kalquorian phrases. While patient and unfailingly polite, his expression was grim. She also didn’t miss how he kept his distance, which really bothered her.

Finally, she couldn’t take the strained atmosphere any longer, and in true Rachel fashion, she decided to confront the big man flat out. She typed out her question, stood up from the balcony’s seat she perched on, and moved right in his path. Why won’t you come near me?

Startled, he read the handheld’s display, and then looked at her with a combination of worry and anger. He ground his teeth and struggled for a moment, as if he was the one with the speech impediment. Finally he growled, “I am afraid of hurting you, Ray-Ray.”

It was her turn to be surprised. She asked, Do you want to hurt me?

Sletran shuddered all over, and he hunched his broad shoulders. “It’s the last thing I want. You are beautiful, and you make Conyod and Erybet happy.” He stared into her eyes. “You make me happy.”

He struggled again, obviously wanting to say more but not able to for several seconds. Rachel waited, knowing the Nobek would not want her sympathy or assistance. More than ever, she felt a special kinship with Sletran.

At last he spoke again, spitting the words out like bullets. “I was affected by the war with Earth. I saw and did things…”

His voice died out then, and his expression went blank. The complete lack of emotion was somehow much worse than the desperate fury he’d worn the instant before. Now Rachel reached out to touch his arm. He blinked, and awareness flooded back into his face once more.

She quickly typed out, War makes us do things we wouldn’t ever conceive of in our normal lives. War can bring us face to face with our worst selves, selves we never knew we were.

Sletran looked at her and nodded slowly. Compassion warred with torment for possession of his emotions. “Sometimes I think the man I was, or thought I was, is gone forever. With you, he comes back.”

Rachel smiled. See? You won’t hurt me.

He shook his head. “I wish I could believe that. I lose hours of time nearly every day. I don’t know where I’ve been or what I’ve done. What might a man be capable of when his mind is no longer under his control?”

I haven’t known you long, but I do know one thing, Sletran. You will not hurt me.

She gave him time to read her words. When his eyes went from scanning the display to focus on her, she laid the handheld down. She stepped close to him and reached to wrap her arms around his neck. One hand went to the back of his head, and she tugged his stormy face towards hers.

Rachel kissed the Nobek, letting her lips drift lazily over his. Her tongue peeked out to run over his lower lip, tasting the sweetness of his mouth. Sletran’s lips parted, and his tongue darted out to meet hers. His arms closed around her, drawing her close, letting her feel his growing desire.

The Nobek’s tongue abruptly plunged into her mouth, stroking her tongue with demand. He tasted of the coffee they’d had with their breakfast, and of unadulterated masculinity. Rachel moaned and rubbed herself against that granite body pressed to hers. The sharp scent of his arousal washed over her, and her body responded automatically. Her pussy seemed to pulse with sudden, acute need, and her panties dampened in a rush of fluid.

Sletran broke the kiss with a feral growl. In a blur of motion, he scooped Rachel into his arms and carried her into the sleeping room. Rachel found herself beneath the huge Nobek, pressed down onto the sleeping mat’s surface under his weight.

“Eryi, eryi,” she whispered to him as he lifted up to pull her dress off over her head. Yes, yes. She tugged at his loose, sleeveless shirt, wanting his hot skin against hers. He swept it off and covered her again with his body, his mouth on hers, devouring her in his hungry kiss. His tongue tasted her with ruthless need.

Rachel writhed beneath him, rubbing her demanding sex against his lower belly, her hands sweeping over his shoulders and down his back. How could a man have so many muscles, muscles that undulated in a sinuous dance beneath her fingertips? Every inch of Sletran was a delight to feel, and she arched a little to rub her breasts against his hard wall of a chest. Her sensitive nipples swelled at the contact, sending slivers of heat straight down to her aroused pussy.

Sletran rumbled a warning deep in his chest, and he reared up. His hands captured her wrists to pin them over her head. The anger in his expression was gone, replaced by brute lust. “You are so eager, my beautiful warrior female,” he said, his eyes dark and narrowed. “And proud. You know the word for please in my language. I would hear you beg me for pleasure. I would hear you scream for it.”

Rachel’s breath caught. The Nobek looked savage and her body responded with a burst of pure need. Her legs surrounded his hips, and she yanked hard to pull him as close to herself as she could.

Sletran chuckled. “Oh, this will be a delightful struggle, Matara. One I think we might both win.”

He rubbed his groin against hers, stimulating her clit so that she gasped. His erection strained against the slick fabric of his knee-length pants, feeling like twin rods of steel against her mound. At the same time, his hand closed over one breast, squeezing it just shy of pain and making the tip engorge with blood. His tongue scraped over the stiff flesh. Rachel groaned as heat sizzled through the mound.

“You enjoy a touch of intensity, don’t you? Let’s try a little more,” Sletran said. He bared his flat teeth, and they closed over the tip of Rachel’s nipple. Again, the pressure increased until Rachel trembled on the threshold of hurt. Then he flicked his sandpaper-rough tongue over the captured flesh, sending a thick wash of desire down to her belly and straight into her pussy. A strained warble broke from her throat.

He released her breast from teeth and hand, possessing it with his mouth. Sucking in hard, he enveloped half the lush mound in stroking wetness. Rachel arched, as if she would shove even more into that erotic kiss. Sletran withdrew the luscious embrace, much to her disappointment. Then he gave her a feral grin, one in which his fangs came into sight. Rachel gasped.

The Nobek’s head darted down, and he impaled her upper breast with those needle-thin teeth. He held her still, careful despite his ferocity to not let her jerk and tear her flesh against those twin darts. The bite lasted just long enough for Rachel to feel the beginnings of intoxication.

Then Sletran moved his brutally delicious attentions to her other breast. This time he sucked in another mouthful, and slowly withdrew, letting his flat teeth scrape achingly across her skin. Rachel groaned, her head tossing from side to side. She ground her crotch hard against his rigid length, so tantalizingly close yet kept terribly separate from her by his pants.

Sletran’s raspy tongue swirled all around her areola. Rachel clenched her legs hard around him, rutting like an animal, dragging her clit along that swollen part of him. She was eager to have him inside her, fucking her with that glorious pair of cocks.

The Nobek raised his head to snarl through a lascivious smile. His fangs descended again. Rachel’s mouth fell open and she thrust her breast towards him. Rattlesnake fast, darts of pain shot into the tender flesh.

As he injected her with the sweet venom that made everything feel safe and wondrous, his groin pressed down, sinking his weight down on her pelvis. Rachel could no longer move against him. Her burning pussy was left trembling, unable to grind for rapture. All her attempts to writhe moved her no more than the most minute amount.

“Krewet?”

Sletran released the bite and snickered. “That’s the best you can do? You don’t sound nearly desperate enough.”

He kissed his way up from her breasts. Rachel’s chin lifted, unconsciously offering her vulnerable throat to him. She didn’t realize how submissive the gesture was until the Nobek’s mouth closed over the slender column and his fangs sunk in for a third time. She cried out and once more tried to rub her crotch against his, desperate for more pleasure to go with the heady delights of erotic pain. His weight held her still, making her lay still as he pumped more intoxicant into her system.

Euphoria made her limbs lax. Her legs tumbled from his hips to lay wide open on either side of his thighs. She couldn’t summon the strength to struggle against him. He was making her helpless not just physically, but mentally as well.

Sletran released the bite. “Now you will refuse me nothing. You are mine, little Ray-Ray, in every possible way.”

I already was, you dominating thug. But I’m not complaining. Not one damned bit.

He let her wrists go. “Keep your hands there. You will obey.”

“Eryi.”

Her acquiescence brought a growl trickling from his lips. “Stay right here. Do not move a muscle.”

His weight suddenly disappeared. Rachel blinked to see him rummaging through the drawer that held the vibrator and dildo Erybet had tormented her with the day before. She trembled at the memory.

What Sletran brought out was a flat black double strap, shaped in an ‘x’. The middle of the fabric piece was thickly padded. The four ends were looped, like cuffs.

The Nobek returned to her. He slipped the padded part behind her neck, leaving two straps on either side of her. He worked quickly, securing loops just above her knees and around her ankles.

When he was done, Rachel’s legs were wide open, her knees and feet held up in the air by the tension of the short straps. She was splayed, the weight of her legs held by the strap behind her neck.

“Gorgeous,” Sletran breathed. His half-lidded eyes were dark as he looked down on her, his breath heaving his sculpted chest. His thumbs hooked the waistband of his shorts, and he dragged the fabric down. His primary cock sprang loose, so hard it nearly slapped his lower belly as it escaped its confines. The second cock appeared next. Both glistened wetly with the cinnamon-scented lubrication he secreted. The dark skin of him was almost purple, and veins stood out on each appendage. Rachel’s pussy flexed, aching to be filled with him.

“Krewet,” she moaned. Her voice had a desperate edge to it.

Sletran stared at her mound. His fingers stroked through the tight, soft curls there. “I think I would like to see this entirely bare,” he whispered. He was gone in a blur of motion once more. Rachel heard him rummaging in the facility, and she warbled a plea in that direction.

The Nobek was between her legs a moment later, a thick towel and slim instrument in his hands. He slid the towel beneath her buttocks and switched the instrument on. A low hum muttered through the air and Rachel tensed. Another vibrating toy?

Sletran touched it to the upper edge of her pubic triangle and stroked down. Rachel gasped to see the black swirls of hair fall away, revealing the dark chocolate skin beneath. He was shaving her.

Flesh not bare for years was made smooth. Rachel jerked to feel the slightest breeze against her most secret parts. Sletran worked with efficiency, wielding the shaver with gentle strokes until the last soft sprig had been eliminated. Then he folded the towel up and dropped it to the floor next to the sleeping mat.

She felt very, very naked without her nether curls. Every current of air felt blatant against her flesh, as if the very atmosphere was determined to have its way with her. She writhed, unable to stop herself.

Sletran grinned. “Such a beautiful pussy. I have wanted to see it this way from the beginning.”

His hand slid against her slit, nestling in to rub the soft petals. Meanwhile, his thumb drew tight circles around her clit. Rachel jerked against his touch, groaning with need. The thick, calloused fingers massaged up and down, spreading her juices all the way down to her anus.

It felt good to be handled by the Nobek, but Rachel needed more. She needed something inside her. She needed that thumb to stop teasing and to offer direct contact. She squirmed.

“Krewet, Sletran?” The pitch of her tone was higher than ever.

Instead of giving her what she wanted or even the courtesy of an answer, Sletran’s other hand settled its warmth over the slight hill of her mound. He applied pressure and rubbed in slow circles. Rachel’s insides tumbled over and over, her need growing by the second.

Her groan came all the way from her curled toes waving in the air. “Krewet.”

Sletran bent forward. While his hands continued to work her sex, his tongue dipped into her navel. He dragged it up to her breastbone, forging a wet trail. She shuddered under the rasp of the scratchy appendage. Then she cried out as he nipped his way over to suckle at one breast. While he sucked gently, that wicked tongue rubbed her nipple over and over.

Rachel’s body was a riot of erotic agony, agony that grew by the moment as Sletran played with her. The delicious torment was driving her insane.

“Krewet, Sletran, krewet, krewet!”

He moved over to her other breast, still sucking and stroking.

Damn it, she was going crazy. If Sletran wasn’t going to provide her with what she needed, she would get it herself. Disobeying his earlier orders, she moved her hands to grab his and push them towards where she needed.

Sletran immediately reared up. His hands released her mound and one clapped against her clit. She heard the wet smack before she felt it. And when she felt it…

A sharp sting reverberated through her pussy, and then a crescendo of heat burst through her. Rachel yelped from the sudden pain. An instant later, the pulsing burn twisted into something else, and she cried out from the gut heaving arousal. She writhed in helpless, ecstatic torment.

Sletran snorted as he put her hands on either side of her head. “Nearly came, didn’t you my naughty Ray-Ray? Now keep your hands where I’ve put them.”

Rachel trembled violently. She shrieked when Sletran picked back up from where he left off, his hands massaging her pussy and his mouth working her breasts hungrily.

Cruel bastard!

She was nearly sobbing from need. The spank to her most tender flesh had only increased her agony to be fucked by the Nobek. He’d mastered her. She’d begged him. What more did he want from her?

Suddenly, two of the fingers working her slit slid into her pussy. Rachel bucked against the thick digits, desperate to take him in as deep as possible. The calloused fingertips probed her channel, searching, searching…

A jolt of pure fire burst through her belly. Sletran had found the cluster of nerves at the front of her sheath. She clenched handfuls of linens in her fists. Rachel opened her mouth to scream, but she had no breath to utter it.

“There it is,” he growled, his eyes narrowing. “Right there.”

He stroked the knot of sensation, the pressure firm and his movements slow. It was enough to bring orgasm boiling right up to the brink, but not quite enough to send her over. Rachel quaked violently, unable to come. Tears spilled from her eyes.

She couldn’t even think, she was so close. Her brain fragmented under the torture, and she could only think of one word, the word that had already failed her several times. But it was all she had, so she started screaming it with all her might.

“Krewet! Krewet! Krewet!”

Sletran sighed and leaned back, pulling his touch from her straining body. “Finally. Such a strong, stubborn warrior. I should put you over my knee and give you a thorough spanking instead of a good fucking. Luckily for you, if I don’t spill in your belly soon I’ll be in agony.”

He knelt between her legs and brought his cocks in line with her open pussy and ass, handling them both in one hand. It was only now that Rachel realized he hadn’t stretched her anus in preparation for his penetration. Would she still be loose enough from the night before?

I don’t care if he splits me in two. I need those cocks in me now!

Sletran propped himself on one hand between Rachel’s clutching fist and her ear. With a sigh, he lowered his groin to hers, pressing his cocks into her body. The tips of him slid in, eased by their combined wetness. Rachel groaned to feel him filling her channels, the fit snug. As the Nobek’s girth increased, she ached a little. The entrance of her tighter sheath burned as it reluctantly widened to accommodate her lover’s thickness.

Then the front cock moved against the nest of nerve endings inside her pussy, and the wash of heated pleasure took all her attention from the discomfort of being impaled in the rear. Sletran pushed steadily into her warmth, his gasps a storm. He watched himself disappear into the shelter of her body, his lower lip clenched between his teeth.

A jolt of painful elation jarred Rachel, galvanizing her body. She tensed all over and groaned as shivers of delight zapped all through her belly. Sletran had found her end, the tip of his cock making contact with her cervix.

His gaze slid up her body to meet hers. “Will you save me? Can you save me?” he whispered.

Rachel could have cried at the tormented want in his face. She knew his pain. It was her own. Neverminding his order to keep her hands on the bed’s surface, she reached for him. He leaned forward, letting her take his face between her palms. She pulled him to her. Their lips brushed softly. His tongue licked her upper lip, the contact ticklish. She parted her lips, and his tongue surged in to taste.

The kiss started off tender, almost tentative. Then Sletran’s strokes became stronger, more demanding. Rachel moaned into his mouth, delighting in the taking. Once more, her senses were overcome by desire. His mouth worked hers, sucking on her tongue.

His hips eased back, dragging his cocks outward, rubbing all the sensitive spots as he went. Rachel went stiff all over in reaction as the friction sent sparkles of excitement through her loins. Her hands went from the strong jaw of the man still kissing her to tangle in his soft hair, down further to stroke his strong shoulders.

Sletran moved until only the tips of his cocks remained within. Then he slowly pressed back in, again hitting all the spots she liked best, filling her with thick delight.

He broke the kiss to stare into her eyes. He said nothing, just looking as he pumped in and out of her, carefully gauging her reactions as he shifted positions minutely. The Nobek found an angle that made Rachel cry out.

“Right there. That’s where I’ll keep you,” he whispered.

Sletran thrust again, harder and faster this time. Elation swelled within Rachel. She yelled again. And again as the Kalquorian fucked her faster and harder until their bodies slapped together in a relentless tattoo.

Monstrous heat swept through Rachel. The pressure in her womb was increasing by the moment. Ecstasy was ballooning hugely within, readying to explode in monumental release. She sobbed, moaned, wailed, and yelped in turns as Sletran pounded his lengths into her pussy and ass.

“Come for me, my warrior,” he gasped. “Come that I may fill you with my seed, so I can mark you as mine.”

Rachel felt the orgasm starting, a heightening burst of sublime pleasure. It roiled from her clit, picking up momentum as it sparked the heavier ecstasy of the ball of nerves inside her pussy, joined by the deep, delicious ache of Sletran’s fullness in her ass. Then it billowed through her belly, struck her spine, and barreled up into her throat, releasing in a long, drawn out scream. More spasms followed the same path, thundering through her in close succession.

Sletran’s rhythm stuttered. He stilled for an instant, completely frozen against her quaking body. Then his hips slammed against her three times before his howl joined her cries. Rachel felt the cock in her pussy pulse hard as he shot heat deep inside her.

Her flesh continued to flex, milking the big Nobek until he fell over her, emptied at last. His lips covered Rachel’s face with delicate kisses. His hands stroked her perspiration-sheened skin. Tenderness from such a big, primitive-looking male was a joyous surprise, and she kissed and stroked back.

After a few minutes Sletran propped himself up to look into her eyes again. His strong features were softened by a look that seemed suspiciously like adoration. For the moment, the haunted look he usually wore was missing.

He asked her, “How do you do that? How do you make me myself again? I would do anything for you, Ray-Ray.”

She smiled, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. Damn, how does this keep happening? Now I’ve gone and fallen in love with all three of them.

Chapter 9

Conyod came home that night with the announcement he’d gotten the next day off from work. “Perhaps we can visit the stables?” he asked Erybet.

Erybet looked to Rachel. “Would you like to see Conyod’s other passion?”

“Kestarsh?” she guessed. From what the Imdiko had told her, his small breeding stock was similar to Earth’s horses.

“We could go riding. My stables are an hour away by shuttle. The weather is supposed to be comfortable.”

Erybet nodded. “I hear the last of the freezes are over.”

The Imdiko was almost childlike in his hope. Rachel smiled to see the big man so obviously excited over the prospect. She nodded her agreement.

Sletran crooked a half-smile. “You should know his parents live on the adjoining property. It would be unseemly to go and not visit with them.”

The voltage went down a little in Conyod’s happiness, and the Nobek narrowed his eyes at him. “They should meet Ray-Ray.”

“I agree.” Erybet’s hand went to the back of Conyod’s neck to rub. The Imdiko rolled his eyes. “It’s the proper thing to do,” the Dramok gently chastised. To Rachel he said, “My parents and Sletran’s live much farther away, so it would take extra effort to visit them. It may be a while before it can be arranged.”

The in-law gauntlet, Rachel thought with little enthusiasm. Judging from Conyod’s expression, he looked forward to it as little as she did. Well, if she was meeting parents, then maybe that meant she was a step closer to being the clan’s Matara.

Conyod blew out a breath, giving up. “I guess we should stop in.”

“At least for a few minutes.” Erybet was still rubbing his neck, as if to calm him.

“You know it’s never just a few minutes with my family.”

Sletran ruffled the Imdiko’s hair like he was a cranky child. “Then we’ll spend more than a few minutes.” He gave Rachel a look that was half-amusement, half-grimace. “Conyod’s parents are extremely possessive, particularly his mother and Nobek father. Don’t be upset if they don’t approve of you.”

“It won’t change my mind one bit about making you my Matara,” Conyod grouched. “Don’t let anything they say make you think it will.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows. Well. This meeting was going to be interesting.

* * * *

The next morning, after a long discussion, the clan decided to go straight to the home of Conyod’s parents. “Might as well get it over with,” the Imdiko sighed. “Then we can enjoy the rest of the day.”

After a pleasant flight, their shuttle landed on a broad expanse of tall grass on a mostly flat stretch of land. Rachel stepped out of the shuttle with the men and looked around. Tall grasses waved in the breeze, and mountains jutted from the land only a few miles away. It fascinated her to see how the peaks seemed to suddenly rise from the otherwise level ground, as if the jagged heaps had been plucked from elsewhere and scattered at random.

The only manmade feature Rachel spied were three circular buildings. The unadorned wooden structures apparently housed large animals. Outside the doors, metal poles speared the ground at regular intervals as far as the eye could see.

“My parents’ stables,” Conyod said. “The posts emit a containment field for the kestarsh. It’s programmed to keep them in and predators out.”

Rachel squinted at dark, moving shapes in the distance. The only thing she could tell about them was that they were large and six-legged. She pointed.

Conyod nodded. “My parents’ herd. There’s the home where I was raised.”

The area he indicated rose slightly out of the ground at an angle. Painted to match its surroundings, Rachel had missed the structure at first glance. It sloped gently up from the landscape, the front wall no taller than the height of Sletran and Erybet if one stood on the other’s shoulders. A wide door and two pairs of windows on either side of it looked out towards the shuttle. The one side wall she could see disappeared into the small hill that it was built into. Rachel realized the house was partially underground, in keeping with the Kalquorian devotion to marring the natural landscape as little as possible.

As she looked at it, the door opened and four Kalquorians emerged from the structure. Three men and one female hurried towards them. With a nod to Erybet, Conyod took the lead to meet them.

The group of elder Kalquorians closed around the Imdiko, beaming with delight to see their son, embracing him in hearty hugs, ruffling his hair, exclaiming over him. Rachel wondered at his reluctance to visit. Their devotion and love were apparent.

His mother, Matara Lafec, was an Amazon compared to Earther women. She was still small next to the men, who were all about the same height as Conyod. Her clothing was simple; pants that molded to her sturdy legs without seeming too tight, and a blouse that hung loosely, its hem almost to her knees. After a moment, Rachel decided Lafec wore one of her mates’ shirts. Her scuffed brown boots reached halfway up her shins. Her shining black hair was caught up in a braid that reached to her waist. Her face was pretty despite being careworn. Rachel noticed the Matara frequently glanced over at her from the corners of her eyes.

Rachel identified Conyod’s fathers from the vid pictures he’d shown her. All three wore long suede leather-looking pants with padded inseams. Thick gloves hung from straps on their waistbands. Their shirts were long-sleeved despite the warm day. They looked like they’d already done a full day’s work to Rachel.

Dramok Tuher was an elder version of his son, obviously the biological sire of her beloved. Rachel knew such things weren’t remarked upon. All three men claimed fatherhood of the clan’s children. Tuher’s jaw was strong and his smile came readily. More restrained but obviously pleased to see Conyod was the goateed Nobek Vel, whose hand went to the Imdiko’s shoulder and stayed there. His piercing gaze looked over his son carefully, assessing Conyod’s wellbeing.

As fervent with affection as Lafec was Imdiko Sema, who wrapped his arms around Conyod to hug his son with no sign of restraint or embarrassment. His broad face, which his long, wavy hair kept falling over, was delighted. “You don’t smell of kestarsh yet,” he chuckled. “What did we do to deserve first look?”

Conyod didn’t answer, but his face reddened. “You’ve been busy in the stables,” he said, appraising them all.

“Getting the eldest mare ready for your stud. She’s coming into season soon,” Lafec said. Her gaze flicked to Rachel again. She turned from her son to look over those he’d brought with him. In a much more formal tone she spoke. “Hello Erybet and Sletran. It’s good to see you again.”

Her mates also acknowledged the Dramok and Nobek with polite faces and slight bows. “We are always glad to have a visit from our son’s clan,” Tuher said. His voice was pleasant, though not quite enthusiastic.

Erybet nudged Rachel, and he led her and Sletran over to the group. Lafec’s smile was downright stiff as she too stepped forward to greet them. “This is the young woman you told us about, my son?”

Conyod grinned at Rachel over his mother’s shoulder and gave her a wink. Reassured, Rachel smiled with all the warmth she could muster at Lafec.

Conyod said, “May I present Matara Rachel. We call her Ray-Ray.”

Lafec dipped her head in a nod while her clanmates executed respectful bows. Tuher said, “Welcome to our home, Ray-Ray.”

“Metla thlard gauted fapo mik pifral.” The words didn’t stumble despite the guttural language her clumsy tongue found so awkward to speak.

“And we are pleased to meet our son’s friend,” Tuher responded in kind. He exchanged impressed looks with the male members of his clan. Lafec only continued to eye Rachel. “Please, everyone come in.”

Sema thumped his son on his back with a strong hand. “Don’t worry, Conyod. We won’t keep you from your kestarsh for long.”

Everyone chuckled. Even Conyod quirked a smile.

Vel inclined his head towards Rachel. “While he was growing up, there was a time he would sneak out and sleep in the stables instead of his own bed. I think he often wished he could transform into a kestarsh.”

Conyod scowled at the insistent teasing. Rachel grinned. Marcus used to be just as embarrassed by his parents when they visited. Earthers and Kalquorians were very much alike. She patted his back sympathetically as they went into the house, and he uttered a long-suffering sigh.

Rachel thought she should be used to the Kalquorian use of vids to simulate windows by now. She’d managed to forget yet again. She was startled to see the main room well lit by what appeared to be natural light from all around instead of just the windows surrounding the door.

She settled on a tan overstuffed seating cushion, which was part of a seating circle. A stone fireplace was the focal point of the room, and Rachel thought it was probably quite cozey when the fire was lit. Conyod sat to her left and Sletran to her right with Erybet on the other side of the Nobek. Lafec sat on the opposite side of Conyod, her broad hand on his. She smiled up at him in utter devotion, and Rachel swallowed. Her own mother had never looked at her like that, at least not that she remembered. Not even before her father had died.

But Lafec’s expression was perhaps too devoted, obsessive even. Rachel thought she might be starting to understand the Imdiko’s unease around his parents.

Lafec turned her attention to Rachel, and her expression went wary. “I’m surprised to hear a traditional greeting in Kalquorian from you, Rachel. I was led to believe you didn’t speak at all.”

Conyod’s tone was gentle. “It is her own language that gives Ray-Ray difficulty, Mother. She was tortured for information on Earth and put up a mental block against saying anything to her captors.” He smiled at Rachel as if proud. “Kalquorian is something they wouldn’t be able to understand, so she feels safe speaking it.”

Sletran added, “She is working hard with me to learn our language. I think she might be able to hold a simple conversation in three weeks at her present rate.”

Tuher nodded with approval. “Very impressive. I have heard Earthers find our language as difficult as we find yours.”

Rachel typed on her handheld and gave it to him to read. But you all speak English so beautifully.

They did. Only a trace of accent marred otherwise perfect diction.

Imdiko Sema, sitting directly across from her, answered. “We made it a point to immerse ourselves in your languages, each of us learning English and Spanish. I speak German in addition to that. Tuher speaks Russian, Vel Arabic, and Lafec Chinese.”

Rachel was impressed and chagrined. They knew more of her world’s languages than she did. She only knew English.

Sema continued. “It was necessary for our business. We have hopes of selling the kestarsh we breed to some of the Earther colonies. They are strong and obedient animals, more agile than your horses.”

Tuher beamed. “Technology has not yet improved on the kestarsh for its farmwork capabilities in mountain regions. To this day they are still used in canyons and highlands here on Kalquor, more so than any machinery.”

Sema added, “Not to mention so few of your horses survived the explosions on Earth. It will take a few years for the clones to grow to maturity and be capable of working for your people. We have already introduced the kestarsh to the Mercy and Haven colonies with pleasing results.”

Rachel had been eyeing a vid picture on the low table that sat in the middle of the seating group. It was of a muscular beast, with six thick legs and a thick chest. Despite its heft, it managed to look graceful, with a long, curving neck, a streamlined face that tapered from a strong jaw to slender nose, and a gently arched back. A sweeping snow-white tail hung from its rounded hindquarters, and the rest of its short, curly black fur gleamed with health. The animal’s eyes were gentle and intelligent as it seemed to stare at her from the still photograph.

She typed on her handheld. They are beautiful animals. Quite sensitive to their handlers’ wants too, from what Conyod has told me.

Vel’s sharp eyes moved from her computer to her face. The man had the most intense gaze she’d ever been subjected to.

He said, “That still you’re looking at is of Dresk, the champion Conyod bred and trained.”

Rachel looked at the Imdiko in surprise. You never told me you bred a champion.

Lafec visibly swelled with pride. “Dresk has won more championships than any other kestarsh on record. My son is a natural when it comes to training the kestarsh. It is what he was born to do.” Her eyes narrowed at Conyod. “I keep hoping he’ll come out of this psychology phase he insists on wasting his time with.”

Rachel felt him stiffen, and he looked away from his mother, his mouth tight. Sletran caught his eye and surreptitiously winked. Immediately, the Imdiko relaxed and his lips curved in a private smile.

Tuher said diplomatically, “Conyod knows his own mind. He is talented in more than one field.”

Rachel typed, I’m certainly glad he became a therapist. I can’t imagine anyone helping me more than he has.

That earned her a smile from Conyod. His free hand found hers, and he laced his fingers in her grip.

Nobek Vel, sitting on the other side of Lafec, leaned forward to look at the Earther. “Matara Rachel, what is your opinion of the security protocols in the hospital? Do you feel they are adequate for the safety of the nurses and doctors against the more violent patients?”

Conyod rolled his eyes. “My father, I work exclusively in the traumatized Matara wing. As I’ve told you before, the majority of the women are more danger to themselves than anyone else.”

Vel was dogged with his inquiries. “But there are those who lash out against their caregivers. Even a small Earther can cause plenty of damage, given the right tools.”

Rachel thought she felt Sletran jerk the smallest bit.

Lafec nodded her own disapproval. “And don’t forget the Empress herself was abducted leaving that wing.”

Conyod was almost growling in his irritation. “My father, how many times have you visited me at my work? You were just there the other day when you came to the city to take care of those licensing issues.”

Vel arched an eyebrow. “I am fully aware of where I’ve been and what I was doing. Just because I saw you in your office does not mean I know how safe the working conditions are.”

Sletran’s tone was tight but reassuring. “I have visited Conyod’s worksite and have seen the safeguards in place there. The security since the Empress’ near-kidnapping has been re-examined and new protocols have been enacted. It is very safe for him to work there now.”

Vel scowled. “Every contingency cannot be foreseen.”

Tuher smoothly interjected. “All the more reason to not worry unnecessarily. Even raising kestarsh in these mountains comes with its share of dangers.”

Rachel thought she heard Lafec gasp. The Matara’s face was stricken as she stared at her Dramok, as if he had said something terrible.

Tuher refused to look at her. Instead he turned to Conyod. “I know you must be eager to check on your stables, my son. And you should introduce Rachel to Dresk. Two of your best successes must be brought together.” He smiled at Rachel with seeming approval.

Conyod stood, tugging Rachel up with him and looking relieved. The rest also rose to their feet. Lafec continued to cling to her son, both hands circling his arm.

He said, “I really should check in with my staff, and I thought Ray-Ray might enjoy going for a little ride.”

Lafec’s grip tightened. “But you’ve only just arrived! Surely you can spend more time with us.”

Sema’s tone, while kind, was firm. “He’s here every ten days to tend to breeding business, and you’re right there with him each time. Don’t act as if you never see your son, my Matara.”

She scowled at him and Tuher, and then looked up at Vel. The Nobek stared at Rachel. He seemed just as unhappy as Lafec, but he said nothing.

Erybet smiled brightly at Lafec, as if he didn’t feel any of the tension surrounding the group. “We will return after our ride for a longer visit. After all, it is early in the day and we don’t want to interfere with ranch business. Perhaps we can invite you into town for evening meal?”

Lafec’s upset turned on its head, and she actually smiled at Erybet. “I will cook. After all, Rachel – Ray-Ray – deserves a proper welcome. We will sit and eat together this evening.”

Erybet bowed. “Thank you, mother of my clanmate.”

Sletran echoed the bow. “Your food outshines any dining option I know of.”

Rachel nodded her thanks and gave Lafec her brightest smile. Lafec waved them all off, but she looked very pleased. “Enough flattery out of all of you. Enjoy your ride.”

Rachel contained a snort. Lafec was a charming hostess and completely agreeable now that she knew Conyod would be returning later. Rachel knew the drill well. Lafec was just like any jealous Earther mom with a son whom no woman would ever be good enough for.

* * * *

Rachel held tight to the saddle handgrips of her mount as she rode. She sat atop the celebrated Dresk himself, above the waist-high grass of the plain, surrounded by the clan as they rode Conyod’s other kestarsh.

Dresk was monumentally huge, so big that Rachel had initially found it terrifying to approach the animal despite Conyod’s assurances. She came only to Dresk’s thickly muscled shoulder. But as she’d neared him, he dipped his massive head down to look her in the eye. After a moment of quiet regard, he brushed his muzzle against her cheek and offered a soft chuffing sound. He stepped forward and nudged her with his head so that he could circle her shoulders with his long neck. The warm smell of sun and grasses seemed to be imbedded in his fur, offering a sense of comfort. She felt as if he was giving her a hug.

Conyod confirmed her assessment with a laugh. “Dresk just made you a part of his herd, Ray-Ray. He’s welcoming you into the fold.”

As Dresk released her, Rachel grinned. She ran her hands over the animal’s neck, burying her fingertips in the short curls of fur. I like you too, big guy.

He was the biggest of Conyod’s seven kestarsh, and she’d expected to ride a smaller mare. However, Dresk had other ideas. Though the other kestarsh were just as friendly and doting when they approached her, the moment Conyod tried to help her mount one, Dresk gently bumped them out of the way.

After attempting to put Rachel on a third kestarsh with the same result, Conyod finally threw his hands up. “Fine, she’ll ride you,” he told the stallion. The Imdiko gave Rachel a rueful grin. “Apparently, Dresk thinks only he is qualified to train you to ride.”

He’s going to teach me? Rachel was amused. It was backwards to the animals she’d known on Earth, but she had no doubt the kestarsh were not only gentle creatures but immensely intelligent as well. Dresk as her teacher made perfect sense.

Now she sat atop the champion, enjoying the slight sway as he bore her behind Conyod, who rode a younger stallion. Sletran kept pace with her on a spirited mare while Erybet brought up the rear on a quieter, older kestarsh.

“I never rode before I met Conyod,” Erybet told her, rolling his eyes. “The kestarsh find my lack of experience amusing, and the younger ones like to take off with me holding on for dear life.”

Conyod chuckled. “You ride like a sack of grain. They like to throw a scare in you, but they’ve never let you fall.”

“That’s true. Tricky creatures.” Erybet scratched his mare’s neck with affection. She nickered and threw her head back to bump his shoulder in return.

Sletran noticed Rachel’s sudden white-knuckled grip on the saddle holds. “Don’t worry, Rachel. Dresk has no intention of frightening you with a sudden run.”

It was true. The massive beast stepped carefully, grunting at Conyod’s mount when the younger animal got a little too far ahead. Only as Rachel relaxed and gained trust in him did he quicken his pace. They rode closer to the misty-topped mountains.

She didn’t even have to steer. The long triangles of Dresk’s ears tipped forward, flicking slightly when Conyod gave his mount direction. Rachel had expected to use reins like Earth horses, but the kestarsh responded to spoken commands.

“A hand on his left or right front shoulder would also suffice,” Conyod told her. “Swinging your legs forward tells him to halt, and swinging them back tells him to go or to increase speed. He’s already figured out you’re mostly nonverbal, so he’s ready to respond to touch commands.”

Sensitive creatures, Rachel marveled. Dresk made her feel safe. He often looked back at her as if to check on her wellbeing. It was no wonder Conyod loved him as he did.

The ride she’d half-dreaded was so enjoyable, she already anticipated the next excursion. The tall, gray-red grasses perfumed the air, reminding her of wisteria. The breeze that wafted through the tall, thin fronds sounded like a gentle waterfall. The sun warmed her shoulders, left bare by her sleeveless top. Dresk’s rolling gate was like riding a sea swell.

The day was a pleasant, drifting dream, one Rachel thought she might never want to wake from. Contentment hummed through her. She was almost in a trance state from the blissful relaxation.

Conyod turned in his saddle to grin back at her. “What do you think, Ray-Ray?”

She grinned big enough to make her cheeks ache and nodded enthusiastically. In Kalquorian she said, “Good. I like. Dresk good.”

Dresk blew and his head bobbed up and down, as if to agree.

Erybet’s voice came from behind and to the left. “Her speech is really coming along.”

And it’s only going to get better, Rachel thought with determination. She pointed to the mountain looming before them and looked to Sletran. “How to say?”

“Pabem. The mountains are called pabem.”

Rachel repeated the word, memorizing it. After a few minutes of searing it onto her brain, she asked, “We go mountains?”

Conyod snapped, “No farther than the stream.”

Rachel cocked her head at his almost angry tone.

“Werpac.” Conyod slowed his mount so he rode beside her. “I’m sorry. I was a bit short, wasn’t I?”

She shrugged. Dresk nuzzled Conyod’s knee and nickered worriedly.

The Imdiko sighed and pointed to the left lower ridges of the closest peak. “That was the last place my brother was seen. He never came back, and we never found him, though we did recover the kestarsh he’d been riding. It was injured with claw marks from a zibger on its body.”

Erybet urged his mount forward to flank his Imdiko’s opposite side. “That’s why Conyod’s parents are a little on the protective side with him. I can’t imagine the hell of losing a child.”

Conyod nodded. “It was hard. The damage was tremendous to our family. They became suffocating with their need to know where I was every minute of the day.”

Sletran asked, “Would you have done any different?”

Conyod looked out over the plain. “I don’t blame them. But I nearly went crazy under the constant vigilance. I finally ran away from home. The authorities got involved and the whole family was put in counseling.”

Rachel considered him. He’d had a death in his family too, with the opposite effect of what had happened when her father died. She wondered whether she or Conyod had received the worst experience.

Withdrawal or smothering? I guess neither is a good way to live.

Out loud, Rachel said, “Dramok and Imdiko father good.”

Conyod smiled. “With the help of our therapist, they saw the damage the overbearing protectiveness was doing to me. I still see the worry in their eyes, though they have stopped the damaging behavior. My father Vel tries most of the time to not run my life, but being the protective Nobek, he can’t help but hassle me about my safety at times. My mother was the worst affected by the experience. She makes no secret that she would prefer I lived at home with her where she can keep an eye on me.”

Rachel felt a small pang in her chest. Her mother had retreated from her, from all life, until she was unable to even care for herself. It had been Rachel forced into the parental role, compounding her rage and grief over her father’s early death.

Sletran offered Conyod an understanding smile. “Mothers can be like that.” He told Rachel. “Mine cried for weeks when I was classified Nobek and had to be sent to the training camp. My parents were much older and had given up on having ever having a child when they learned I was on the way. I was considered their miracle and letting me go was quite a trial.”

Rachel had heard that young Nobeks were wild, savage creatures unable to rein in more primal impulses. Once a child was identified as that breed, he was sent away to a type of boarding school that taught him to contain his feral urges, to gear them towards constructive endeavors. Many went into the training camps as young as five years of age. She couldn’t imagine having to give up a child that young, though the destructive nature of young Nobeks could be deadly.

What if I have children with this clan? What if they turn out to be Nobeks and I have to send them away?

Now there was a sobering thought. One that Rachel decided was better left for another time. She’d be able to interrogate Sletran on the matter when she was ready to face it.

She struggled to ask Conyod a question, not having enough Kalquorian under her command to speak clearly. “Son of Lafec? Not Conyod?”

Fortunately, the Imdiko understood what she was trying to ask. “My brother’s name was Hoslek. He was a Dramok.”

“Conyod big? Hoslek small?” She made height motions with her hands, Dresk’s gait smooth enough to allow her to let go of the saddle to do so.

“Do you mean our ages?” At her nod, Conyod said, “He was a couple years older than me; nine years old at the time of his disappearance. We were very close.”

A stab of pity went through her. “Sorry, Conyod. Sad.”

He reached over and took her hand. “Don’t be, Ray-Ray. This is supposed to be a good day. Maybe we can make some happy memories in the sight of these mountains to replace the bad.” He smiled, and the expression chased away the sorrow in his eyes.

She nodded enthusiastically. She would do anything to take that sad look off his face, and her seemingly always naughty brain had an idea of how she might accomplish it.

* * * *

Rachel – Ray-Ray – was so beautiful. Her smile was the sweetest he had ever seen, making his heart ache. If only that smile could be trusted. If only she and her kind were not the savage killers he knew them to be, monsters that turned on those who would save them. And in her presence, the clan lit up. Faces that had grown so despondent had learned to smile again. It made him want to scream that destroying her might finish them off as well.

He could see how happy she made them. For their sakes alone, he did not want to kill her. If only he could be sure her smile was not a lie!

He would keep a close eye on her. He would wait and see if her true nature rose. The members of the clan were precious to him, and if he could save them, he would. But she would not be suffered to live if she showed signs of turning on them. He would not lose them as he had so many others.

Meanwhile, there were others demanding his justice. So many of the Earther menace infesting Kalquor that needed to be eradicated. He looked away from that pretty face that wanted to mesmerize him, peering in the distance where his special secret place was. The abandoned stables tucked away on a forgotten corner of the land waited for animals of a different kind. It was where he took the Mataras, where he punished them and executed them for their heinous crimes.

He felt the need boiling in his being, the despairing rage that could only be quenched for a short time by soaking in piercing screams, by flesh parted with his blade, by gushing blood pulsed out by a rapidly failing heart. He licked his lips in anticipation and looked forward to returning home.

It was time to collect another prize. It was time to send another message to the pretty monsters.

* * * *

The group stopped a few yards short of the stream, a clear rush of water winding down from the nearby mountains to cut a swath through the plains. It chuckled to itself as if enjoying a private joke as it raced over rocks.

The grass was incredibly tall here, trying to tickle the underside of Rachel’s feet through the soft soled shoes Sletran had bought her. As the Nobek helped her down from the great height of Dresk’s back, she noted the distant look in his eyes that gave way to an evaluating stare. He licked his lips.

Somebody’s thinking naughty thoughts, Rachel decided.

The grass was all the way up to her chest. For some reason she wasn’t sure of, it made her laugh. She waved her arms over her head, as if to attract attention for rescue. The three men chuckled at her act.

Erybet said, “We’ll have to take care we don’t lose you.”

He took her hand, and Conyod took the other. They left the kestarsh to graze. Rachel was not surprised the intelligent creatures didn’t have to be tied to prevent them from wandering away.

Sletran led the way to the stream bank, his large bulk clearing a path for her to walk. What grasses his feet didn’t smash flat for her, the other two men swept aside with their arms. As usual, Rachel was humbled and gratified by their good manners. The Earther women who continued to reject Kalquorians as mates were sure missing out, in her opinion.

The grasses shortened the closer they came to the stream. A few feet away the fronds reached slightly above Rachel’s ankles. Sunlight shimmered against the water like quicksilver, with diamond sparkles to dazzle the eyes. Erybet and Conyod flopped down on the bank and pulled her down to sit between them. Sletran sank down gracefully in front of her, his legs crossed Indian-style as he sat facing her. The sky above was blameless and powder blue. The sun was brilliant but sent down only comfortable warmth to caress her shoulders. The grasses hid everything else, making it as if they were the only people in existence. Rachel couldn’t even see the nearby kestarsh from here.

The ground was springy beneath her butt and legs, almost soft. She thought she could sleep out here and be just as comfortable as if she lounged in a bed. Of course, thinking of bed made her think of other things.

Well, why not? There’s no shuttle traffic overhead. No one else around that I know of.

Rachel gave the three men her naughtiest grin. “Hide here. No people see.”

She yanked down the front of her top to brazenly flash a breast at them. After a second of widened eyes, she snatched it back up and stuck her tongue out at them.

Sletran growled through his devilish grin. “Now why would you put something so lovely away?” He and the other two leaned towards her, their hands reaching.

Rachel pretended horror and gently slapped at the grasping hands. The air came alive with gasps, feminine giggles, and deep chuckles as she made them wrestle her clothes off.

She ended up straddling Sletran, who lay flat on his back. Conyod knelt in front of her, his knees on either side of the Nobek’s shoulders, his erect cocks in front of her face as she braced her hands on Sletran’s chest. Erybet knelt behind her, his legs between their thighs.

Rachel looked at the men surrounding her. Now this was going to be sheer delight.

“Down on me, Ray-Ray,” Sletran coaxed, his hand between them, guiding his main cock to her pussy. His other hand groped a breast with rough passion that made her moan with need.

She sank down on the iron appendage, feeling the tip enter her, sighing as it filled her, growing thicker as it moved deeper and deeper, joining her to the big man. Her recent experiences with the well-endowed men made the taking pure pleasure. Rachel felt none of the ache of earlier sessions of lovemaking, and she actually missed the slight torment that accentuated her desires. Still, she sighed happily as she accepted the entirety of Sletran, feeling how his second cock nestled against the crack of her ass, its length burning and wet.

“Up again,” Erybet whispered in her ear. One of his arms circled her waist, and he tugged her upwards.

Rachel obeyed, moaning a little to feel Sletran’s cock sliding through her. She let Erybet dictate the movement until only the tip of the Nobek’s cock remained inside. She made a sound at the Dramok behind her and resisted.

“All right then,” he said, his voice low and almost evil. “Let’s see how you like this.”

With that, his free hand moved under her, against her pussy. Sletran’s breath caught, and he groan-growled, “My Dramok.” Both his hands were on her breasts now, and he squeezed almost to the point of pain. Rachel gasped, but she didn’t ask him to stop. She loved being at the clan’s mercy.

“Now back down slowly,” Erybet directed. His hand was still beneath her, the angle of it telling her he was gripping Sletran’s cock.

Rachel lowered down onto the thick shaft once more. She frowned. Something else was right there, pressing against her pussy, trying to open her wider so it could enter her as well. After a moment, she realized what it was. She shot a wide-eyed look over her shoulder at Erybet.

His gaze narrowed. “Do you accept my sexual dominance over you, Ray-Ray?”

Rachel swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. A twist of fear and want made her insides tremble. Well, she’d missed the ache of taking something big. Be careful what you wish for, silly girl. You might end up getting it.

“Eryi,” she whispered and looked away from Erybet only to meet Sletran’s dark, dangerous gaze. A tremor seized her, like prey in the sights of a predator.

Erybet’s tone held no compromise. “Then you will do this. Take all of him inside you. Both cocks in your pussy.”

Unable to look away from the hungry stare Sletran speared her with, Rachel pressed down. The tip of the Nobek’s second cock entered her womanhood, joining the primary one. And there was that magnificent ache, a slight discomfort that grew as she took him in. The maelstrom of sensation made her shudder as her body quickly tipped towards orgasm.

“Hold a moment.” Erybet’s breath was hot in her ear. “Let yourself adjust.”

Rachel shuddered in his grasp. She almost had Sletran right where that sensitive spot in her sheath waited. Despite feeling overly full, the tease of having him so close made her a little crazy. She jerked a protest against Erybet.

He chuckled. “So very eager. But I will not have you injured due to impatience, Ray-Ray.”

Conyod caught her face between his hands and made her look up at him. “You are not in control, my heart. If you want Erybet for your Dramok, you must give command of your body over to him.”

Rachel whined, but she stopped fighting. Damn it, she’d fantasized about submitting to a strong man more times than she could count, but she was too used to being the lead. It was killing her to give in.

Conyod smiled down at her, his purple eyes twinkling. “It takes a different kind of strength to surrender, doesn’t it?”

Her lip curled. Very funny, hot stuff. Stop laughing at me.

There was laughter in Erybet’s voice too. “All right, Matara. A little more now. Keep an eye on her, Conyod.”

The Dramok’s grip loosened, allowing Rachel to lower farther down on Sletran. The pressure moved deeper, deeper … and slid right over that magic spot. A thunderclap of ecstasy blasted through Rachel, making her cry out. Her sex convulsed in reaction, and Sletran yelled out.

“Ancestors!”

Everyone froze, Rachel unwillingly because Erybet’s grip halted her once more. Conyod was still holding her face, so she couldn’t see Sletran. She could feel him though, panting and gasping as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen. For her part, the inside of Rachel’s belly pulsed eager heat, greedy for more of that incredible pressure.

“All right,” came the Nobek’s deep voice after a few seconds. “That was close, but I think I’m ready for her now.”

“Caught you by surprise, did she?” Now Conyod was laughing at him.

“I didn’t realize how strong those interior muscles could be. What an amazing feeling.”

The breathy approval made Rachel feel good. She couldn’t wait to give Sletran more. The instant Erybet eased his hold, she went back to consuming the Kalquorian lying beneath her. That constant, delicious pressure against the hot button in her sheath had her spasming almost constantly, and she heard Sletran’s steady growl as he enjoyed the sensations.

At last she had him completely enclosed, her bottom resting on his body. She sighed and closed her eyes. She had him. All of him. And it hurt damned good.

Sletran’s hands gently stroked up and down her torso. The tender warm touch sent shivers of delight through her body.

“Release all but the tip of him when you’re ready for more,” Erybet said.

Rachel’s eyes popped open. Conyod let her turn her head so she could look at the man kneeling behind her. More?

He grinned. His hand slid over her buttocks and she felt the sweetness of his touch against her anus. “More. But just the one cock here.”

Her jaw dropped. Could she really handle another cock in there when she had two up front?

Erybet nodded, as if he could discern her thoughts. “It’s been done with other clans. Earther females are pliant enough if care is taken by everyone involved. The sexual manuals call it tutlito tolp.”

“Ultimate possession,” Conyod translated. “While you hold Sletran and Erybet in that manner, you will take me in your mouth.”

The expression on his face told Rachel there was more to this than a kinky sex position. She raised an eyebrow at the men.

Sletran looked up at her, his eyes half-hooded with lust. “The position, if accepted by the Matara, indicates her trust in the men enjoying her body. She is placing the whole of her wellbeing in their care as well as offering herself for their pleasure.”

Erybet added, “Of course, the men do all in their power to see not only to her safety, but her pleasure as well.”

Rachel considered them. That dark part of her mentality definitely liked the sound of ‘ultimate possession’. And she’d wanted all three at once, hadn’t she? The thought resonated with her eager body, making her clench around Sletran again. His eyes rolled a little in reaction.

It also felt like a test, of sorts. It seemed obvious to her that giving over so totally meant something to this clan. If she accepted their challenge to perform this tutlito tolp, would they finally clan her? After all, giving herself so completely had to tell them she was serious about them. That she trusted them to not hurt her.

She looked from one to the next. Her beloved Conyod, with his encouraging smile, who’d helped her unlock her lost voice. Of course she trusted him. With all her heart and soul.

Rachel looked at Erybet next. So beautiful. So hopeful. So insistent she let him be the leader he was born to be, yet patient when she resisted. And careful, not allowing her to be hurt when they tried something like this. Yes, she trusted him too.

She turned to Sletran. She sat atop him, yet knew he could overpower her in an instant, probably before she even knew what was happening. He’d said he feared hurting her. The Nobek was incredibly dangerous and his past trauma no doubt increased the peril of being around him. Could she trust him?

Rachel wasn’t sure. There was still so much hidden about the man. Yet she knew his pain and knew how much a show of confidence in him would help him heal. How displaying anything less might hurt him. She loved Sletran and wanted his recovery. Wanted it bad enough to chance her own safety for it.

She nodded. “Eryi. Tutlito tolp.”

“Rise up for me, Ray-Ray.” Erybet’s voice was soft and coaxing.

Rachel slowly lifted her hips, groaning to feel Sletran’s double thickness pulling through her swollen, sensitive pussy. Their mingled wetness helped her move over him easily despite being so stuffed.

She stopped just before the tip of his smaller penis could leave her. Erybet’s arm around her waist held her steady as a hard, hot prod brushed against her anus. It only now occurred to her that he hadn’t prepared her by stretching her with his fingers as the men usually did. But she’d had Sletran there only hours before, late last night. That Nobek did like butt sex with his larger cock. Not that she minded. It had been a favored activity with Marcus too.

Rachel closed her eyes, concentrating on relaxing as Erybet pressed in. She released a breath of relief when the ring of muscles yielded easily to his careful invasion. Then she groaned with renewed arousal as his cock filled her backside, eliciting a deep pleasurable pressure nearly as delightful but decidedly different from having Sletran in her pussy.

“Let me direct the pace,” Erybet gasped in her ear. She nodded her agreement.

As he withdrew, his arm about her waist lowered her so that she was fully impaled on Sletran. Then the Dramok slowly pushed into her again, making his clanmate slide nearly free of her once more.

Rachel swayed between them, her moans nonstop as she took them in turns. A cascade of heady delights swept through her: the dark pleasure of Erybet moving deep inside her only to draw back out, Sletran’s twin cocks pressing hard on the bundle of nerves as he traveled in until he found the end of her and sent sparkles of toe-curling excitement coursing through her entire body, and finally the decadent grind of his pelvis against her clit as their bodies met. Burning rose from her pussy up into her belly, from her ass all the way up her spine to make her dizzy with sensation.

Hands cupped either side of her head. Rachel opened her eyes to see Conyod’s cocks closing in on her wide-open, groaning mouth. The larger one wept a tear of honey, and as it came into range, she flicked it onto the tip of her tongue. The wondrous flavor of him and his spicy scent filled her senses. She gratefully accepted him, her lips closing over the soft, silky flesh over hot iron, rubbing her tongue on the underside as it slid into her mouth, stopping just short of making her gag. The second one slid under her chin. Rachel sucked hard on the one her mouth possessed to claim his delicious lubrication and the seeping pre-cum, her cheeks caving in with the effort.

“Merciful Mother of All!” he cried out. He shuddered.

Conyod’s hips matched Erybet’s gentle rhythm, though Rachel could still feel him trembling as he stroked in and out of her hungry mouth. She kept herself braced up on Sletran’s chest with one hand while stroking Conyod’s second cock with the other. His moan was answered by a growl from Erybet. Suddenly the Imdiko’s noises became muffled, and Rachel rolled her eyes up to look at him.

Erybet was kissing his clanmate. Not a sweet, gentle kiss, but a powerful and passionate and devouring one with one hand fisted in Conyod’s long hair. The smaller man moaned into the Dramok’s mouth, returning the forceful taking with equal hunger. Rachel watched the eager embrace the two men shared, the sight somehow exciting her even more.

No doubt about it. Seeing them together was hot.

Meanwhile, they never wavered in their rhythm as they fucked her delightfully. Beneath her, Sletran had added his rumbling growl to the growing cacophony, one hand stroking and pinching her breasts as he added fingers to the delicious assault on her clit.

Heavy pleasure bloomed, unrolling through her pussy to enfold her belly and chest in a soft, warm explosion. Then searing exaltation poured through her, clenching her nether parts in strong reaction. Beneath her, Sletran tensed. He shouted, and she felt the pulse of his front cock, stretching her harder than ever as it released streams of hot fluid into her womb.

“Now you, my Imdiko,” Erybet growled from far away. His fist closed over the base of Conyod’s prick, pushing Rachel’s mouth back so she only suckled the tip. Conyod yelped a shocked cry as the Dramok’s grip slid forward and back quickly, masturbating him. Rachel’s tongue swirled the end of him, inviting him to feed her.

“Come for us, Conyod,” Erybet said just before taking the Imdiko’s mouth in another rough kiss.

Conyod shuddered and shrieked into his leader’s mouth. The next instant, hot spurts of his seed erupted, shooting straight back into Rachel’s throat. Her lips closed over him, sucking the spicy-savory-sweet fluid down. Erybet milked his cock for every drop before finally releasing him.

Rachel gasped as her heart thundered. She’d already come, but damn if she wasn’t closing in on another wave of mindstealing pleasure. Sletran’s cocks slid free, and wetness poured from her. His hands still worked her tits and pussy.

“She’ll go again,” he said.

“I believe she will,” Erybet panted.

His pace was growing faster and harder, his groin slapping against her ass as he fucked her. Conyod bent to kiss her, and she imagined she tasted his and Erybet’s passion on the tongue that swept her mouth. Rachel warbled a cry into his mouth as ecstasy built higher, fed by every strong thrust of Erybet’s cock, every tug of Sletran’s fingers. Then crescendo fell over her once more, making her stomach curl in on itself with the force of it. She was barely aware of Erybet’s yell, but she felt every throb of his cock as it emptied into her.

Finally, all that was left was gasping, sagging bodies, and a sense of utter relaxation. Erybet slid out of her in another wash of wet warmth. Rachel was lifted, arranged, and cuddled between the three men who clustered around her.

“Thank you, my Matara,” Erybet said, pressing a gentle kiss to her brow.

My Matara. The Dramok considered her his mate now. But he still didn’t ask her if she wished to join the clan. Right now there were only soft murmurs of love words from the three men, gentle stroking hands to sooth her lax body.

Maybe Erybet waited to consult with Sletran before making the offer. Rachel hoped they would have that conversation in the very near future. If they didn’t ask her to clan soon, she’d have to make the move herself. She knew she belonged with them.

Chapter 10

Breft stood on the beach trying to cool the rage burning in his head. Raxstad and Lidon stood on either side of him, their expressions just as livid in the pale peach light of the sun rising through the clouds.

Nine dead. Nine innocent Earther women, women we Kalquorians are supposed to protect from all harm. Dead.

It was enough to make him want to beat others until they were bloody. This unfortunate girl had disappeared only two nights ago, along with two other women. She’d been savaged much worse than the prior victims too. She wore her killer’s bite marks all over her dismembered parts, and Breft had the ugly thought she’d been alive and screaming as the Beast of New Bethlehem delivered such torment. The anesthetic effect of a Kalquorian’s saliva was just enough to numb the small pinpricks of their fangs. It wasn’t nearly enough to mitigate the agony of being torn by a mouthful of blunter teeth.

Not even the thought of saliva samples eased the Nobek officer’s fury. They had plenty of DNA from the killer, DNA that wasn’t on file anywhere. Every Kalquorian was typed at birth. Which meant one of two things: either the killer was a high-ranking public official or someone connected to top secret military knowledge. Top secret like the New Bethlehem Slaughter of Innocents.

From Breft’s position, he could see the body perfectly fine as forensics did their grim work on it. She’d been cut apart the same as the others before her. The killer had placed her so that her torso was at the center, and her head and limbs splayed out about a foot from their proper places where they should attach. It reminded him of a doll his little daughter had pulled apart. Then she ran crying to him, lisping in her mother’s language to “fixth baby, Da”.

He’d fixed his little girl’s baby, but he sure as hell couldn’t fix this. Earther women didn’t piece back together after they’d been cut apart.

His eyes squinted at the note pinned to the dead woman’s forehead. A thin metal knife, one specifically made to stab Tragooms in the brains through their eye sockets, had been buried deep in her skull. He knew he’d only be angrier when he read whatever taunts the monster had written for them, but it didn’t change the need to find out what it said. He needed a fucking clue so he could catch the bastard. And hopefully, said bastard would resist arrest so Breft could kill him. Painfully. With lots of blood pouring out of his sorry-ass body.

Lidon finally spoke, his tone kept painfully calm. “It takes a lot of rage to put a thin eye blade through an Earther skull.”

Breft grunted his agreement. The force required to do such a thing would have been monumental.

Raxstad blew out a heavy breath. “We won’t be able to keep the murders from public notice any longer. Emperor Clajak will be all over us for this one.”

Breft scowled. “Good. Maybe he can talk some sense into Emperor Bevau. We’ve got to unseal those records from the New Bethlehem debacle so we can finally get some names.”

His hot gaze went to the cliffs of the Royal House where the Imperial Family lived. No one stirred on the emperors’ balcony. He wasn’t surprised. Bevau and Clajak were both hands-on rulers. If they had any clue something was happening on the beach right outside their home, they’d be here asking questions rather than watching like so many others were right now.

His eyes moved along the line of cliff homes and government offices. Half the balconies were crowded with the curious, no doubt wondering what was going on behind the protective veil of the shielding. Shuttle traffic, growing heavy with those going to their morning shifts and leaving night work, had been diverted so nothing passed directly over the crime scene. Despite the shielding now being in place, the regular route had not yet been re-established. Quick work had guaranteed only a few had glimpsed the carnage. That few were enough. Raxstad’s assertion that the murders would go public was a given now.

Breft’s sharp gaze settled on a cliff about half a mile to the south. His eyes narrowed. He easily found the balcony belonging to the home of the clan who had been the last to see Matara Maria alive. One lone dark dot told him someone watched from there. It was impossible to tell which Kalquorian it was; the height could have belonged to Dramok Erybet or Nobek Sletran.

Access to the pair’s wartime military records had been blocked. ‘For Executive Eyes Only’ the computer had warned him. Erybet’s rank might have warranted that, but not a group commander like Sletran. That meant the Nobek had been involved in classified operations, even though he was mostly a foot soldier. It wasn’t a stretch to believe the two had been on New Bethlehem when the slaughter happened.

The forensics supervisor finally trudged from the body to speak to Breft. “We’re done with her except for removal of the note and her body if you want to take a closer look.”

Breft jerked a nod. Followed by Lidon and Raxstad, he approached the detached head of the victim. An errant breeze flapped the thin sheet of paper, exposing her blank, blue eyes, peering sightlessly at the sky overhead. Her bloodless face was pale and shimmering against its bed of pink-sand encrusted brown hair.

Breft swallowed hard and turned his attention to the note to read the killer’s latest message.

The Beast of New Bethlehem will not rest until all of the disease has been eliminated. The deaths of the innocents will be avenged.

He scowled and then noticed something else as the breeze died for an instant. There was a smell foreign to the sea salt and ever-present musk of the men surrounding him. He leaned closer and inhaled. Yes, definitely another scent, something deeper, richer than anything else in the area. He moved down to the naked torso and drew in another questioning breath. No doubt about it.

“Sir?” Raxstad sounded hopeful.

“Animal scent.” He was excited at the find, but the odor was not something Breft was familiar with. He didn’t hunt beasts, and his clan had no pets.

The forensic supervisor nodded. “We found some strands of fur here and there on the body. I’ll have an analysis to you as soon as possible.”

Breft noted their eldest officer’s puzzled look. The man had spotted or thought of something new. “Tell me, Lidon.”

The Nobek’s brows drew close together. He was still staring at the note. “We all know what happened on New Bethlehem. The slaughter of two dozen Earther Mataras and children is enough to make any Kalquorian want blood. Look at what he wrote. ‘The deaths of the innocents will be avenged.’ But why would he turn his rage on the very ones you would think he’d want revenge for? Why is he blaming the Mataras for the massacre?”

Raxstad snorted. “He’s not rational. His mind is so twisted and sick that it has distorted all thought.”

Breft said slowly, “Or he doesn’t count the Earther victims of New Bethlehem as innocent.”

His gaze met Lidon’s. The other Nobek nodded slowly. “There were many Kalquorian victims leading up to the massacre. The Earther rebels fought a brutal campaign after the war ended.”

Breft’s mind turned over the issue. It made sense. His gaze went back to the collection of body parts at his feet. Someone, a soldier perhaps, had gone mad from the constant stress of being under attack. Someone who had seen his associates and friends killed by people who refused to believe they’d been conquered.

It still didn’t excuse such barbarity against innocent women. When Breft thought of how the Earthers had come here already traumatized by a fanatical government, only to die at the hands of one of those tasked with keeping them safe … his fists clenched. His own Matara, an artistically talented beauty named Amelia, had been terrified of him and his clanmates when they first met. Her trust had been hard to win, and the thought this butcher might get his hands on her was too much to bear.

He knew Amelia was safe at home in the company of his Dramok Rajhir, who had the day off. She was probably working on a painting or playing with the twins. Yet Breft had the sudden irrational urge to call and check on her. No, he wanted to go home and see her with his own eyes. Even better, to wrap his arms around her and not let go.

She and the others won’t be truly safe until you catch the bastard. So get your head together and find him!

To his men, Breft said, “Raxstad, you’re in charge of the scene. Lidon, let’s go interrupt whatever Emperor Bevau is doing and get some answers.”

“Sir?” Raxstad stared at him in surprise. As Breft’s second, it was an insult to delegate the huge Nobek to watching everyone else clean up.

Breft twitched an apologetic grimace. “You’re a personal friend of Bevau’s. I need someone more objective on this interview. I know you can do the job, but it wouldn’t look right to most.”

Raxstad’s expression cleared. He nodded his appreciation of the situation. “Understood. I’ll report immediately if we find anything of particular note.”

“Thank you.” It wasn’t necessary to show his gratitude, but Raxstad was a good officer. Breft determined the next high profile duty would fall to him.

Breft and Lidon left the scene, striding to Breft’s shuttle with determination. The image of the dead girl’s severed body burned into his brain, Breft had every intention of getting some answers this time.

* * * *

Conyod was deep in administrative work at the hospital when his visitor announce beeped. Grateful for anything that relieved the tedium of organizing files, he answered with a hopeful voice. “Yes?”

Erybet’s voice came through loud and clear. “It’s me, Conyod.”

“Come in.” He stood from his seat cushion in as Erybet entered the room. “My Dramok. This is a surprise.” A bad thought occurred to him, especially as he looked at Erybet’s grave face. “Is everything all right? Did something happen to Rachel or Sletran?”

Erybet waved his hand and indicated Conyod should sit back down. “No, nothing like that. I think we should sit and have a long overdue talk, if you have time.”

Conyod stared. A flare of hope warmed his chest. “Of course. My afternoon has been cleared for reports and evaluations, so I have no patients waiting on me. We have all the time you feel we need.”

“Good. This might take awhile.” Erybet sat on the other side of the low table Conyod used as a desk. Conyod quickly followed suit.

The Dramok’s head was bowed. Conyod watched him, waiting for him to start. After a few moments of what looked like heavy contemplation, Erybet looked up at him. “There’s been another Matara murdered. Her body was left on the beach near our home.”

Of all the things Conyod thought his clanmate might have said, this was not on the list. “By the ancestors! This is horrible. Wait, another Matara? There have been others? Oh, the one that was found in the marketplace.”

Erybet nodded. “There have been more than two. Many of the Mataras Kalquor was told were abducted have been actually murdered. Including Matara Maria. I’ve learned it was her body left in the marketplace.”

Conyod could only stare at him, his mouth open but speechless. Guilt stabbed at him, as if it had been his reluctance to clan with Maria that had gotten her killed. Silly, but utterly understandable, he decided.

“We were warned by those Global Security officers who visited us to tell no one, so you need to keep that to yourself,” Erybet told him.

Conyod nodded. He still couldn’t think of anything to say.

Erybet took another long moment to consider. “My concern is for Sletran. The last time this happened, he became very upset and had one of his wandering off episodes.”

“Is he with Ray-Ray now?”

Erybet shook his head. “I sent him to the Mentoring Center. I want him to start training Imdikos in self-defense, like he used to before we left. He needs something to fill his time. I took Ray-Ray to the Matara complex so you and I could have this talk.”

“I can understand you not wanting her to hear any of this.” Conyod swallowed. It bothered him a little that Rachel wasn’t in the company of a member of the clan. What if the killer went after her?

“That’s not the main thing I wanted to discuss with you.” Erybet took a deep breath. Held it for a moment. Blew it back out in a rush. His gaze met Conyod’s. “What I have to tell you must remain between us. I’ve never disobeyed an order from my commander, much less the Imperial Commander himself.”

Conyod felt the weight of Erybet’s disobedience. His Dramok was a dedicated leader, and the military had been his home for a long time. Guilt flared in the Imdiko’s chest. He’d tried for almost a year to get Erybet to tell him what had happened, not fully appreciating what it would cost his Dramok to do so. If his clanmates’ emotional wellbeing hadn’t hung so clearly in the balance, he’d never allow Erybet to do this.

“You know you can trust me, my Dramok.”

The sincerity in his tone allowed Erybet to give him a hint of a smile. “I know. I’ve put in for an appointment to speak to Emperor Bevau. I had hoped to get his permission to bring you into our confidences before discussing this with you, but he is very busy. I don’t think this can wait any longer. I would rather lose my freedom and commission than my Nobek.”

“Of course.”

“We were on New Bethlehem.”

Conyod’s eyes went wide. That hellhole, where so many Earthers and Kalquorians alike had lost their lives? Where the Slaughter of Innocents had taken place? If Sletran had been anywhere near that site of horrendous bloodshed—

Conyod knew that was exactly what had happened. It explained everything. “You two were there during the massacre? And with Sletran as protective as he is … no wonder he’s having so many problems!”

Erybet’s gaze caught his and held it. “It’s more than that. I was at a command post, but Sletran…”

He visibly gathered himself. In a low voice, he said, “Our Nobek wasn’t just a witness, Conyod. After I cleared it, he gave the order to attack.”

Conyod stared, not believing his ears. Not my Nobek. Not Sletran. He would never do such a terrible thing. Never!

He opened his mouth to deny Erybet’s allegation, but nothing would come out. He wanted to scream at the other man to shut up, to say not another word, but the words stuck in his throat. Conyod suddenly had full appreciation of the torment Rachel had gone through.

Erybet’s mouth moved, and his words told the story that Conyod no longer wanted to hear. He sat frozen as Erybet took him back to that terrible day, to the day that ended the lives of the clanmates he’d loved and replaced them with men he didn’t recognize.

* * * *

Company Commander Erybet stood in the cramped and dark command post, half a dozen illuminated vid screens scrolling information before his eyes. His two aides Dramok Ridna and Nobek Tas flanked him, working the computers.

He smiled with no humor. This was it. This was ‘for all the marbles’, as he’d once heard an Earther commander yell as his troops attacked Erybet’s. Apparently marbles, whatever they were, were a very valuable commodity on Earth.

A slight wash of static came through the com link. Erybet frowned. Communication relays almost never became distorted, not unless someone was purposely jamming the frequencies. It cleared up immediately, replaced by Sletran’s voice.

“Team A in position, Company Commander. Team B, report.”

High Commander Akrij sounded as if he was in the room. “Team B is in position and awaits your signal, Group Commander Sletran.”

Erybet smiled with real feeling this time. As usual, Akrij was in the thick of things, fighting side by side with his men. Probably right at the front of the line, too. Just as typical, he’d left Sletran in charge of the attack, refusing to take deserving leadership away despite his higher rank.

Erybet responded. “Company Commander acknowledges Group Commander Sletran’s men are in position.”

Sletran’s smooth voice carried no sign of the excitement he undoubtedly felt. He was utterly focused on his mission. “I confirm activity within target location. We see movement within the building, but cannot make out exactly who is inside. Commence routine confirmation of target. We have surrounded the building at coordinates one-one-seven-two-point-eight-four-six.”

Ridna doublechecked his computer. “Coordinates confirmed.”

“Coordinates confirmed,” Tas echoed.

Erybet scanned the vid before him three times before adding, “Coordinates confirmed, Group Commander.”

“Confirmations received. Request routine confirmation of intelligence.”

The three men in the command post brought their attention to their individual readouts. Ridna reported, “Informant to High Commander Akrij, designated EM-729, reports Earther insurgents gathering in building located at coordinates one-one-seven-two-point-eight-four-six. Intelligence gathered confirms a number of no less than forty-three Earther soldiers, having ignored orders for surrender, have commandeered the location to carry out attacks against the Kalquorian forces and peacemakers. Informant also reports, and said reports have been confirmed, the identities of these Earthers are those who have led attacks against Kalquorian peacemakers engaged in aid to Earther refugees.”

Tas repeated the exact same thing, reading from his separate station. Then Erybet repeated it again.

Another wash of static preceded Sletran’s next relay and distorted his message. “Con … cation and intelli … received.”

Erybet’s eyes narrowed and he peered into the darkness beyond the vid displays, as if he could will second sight to show him his Nobek. “Repeat, Group Commander. I’m getting a lot of interference from your com.”

Another burst of static, then Sletran’s voice came through loud and clear. “Confirmation of enemy location and intelligence received.”

“Check for willful interference of communications from enemy. I’m getting intermittent interruption of signal.” If this mission was compromised, Erybet had no problem pulling his men out, though the Nobeks would kick and scream about it. Fuck the attack and the Nobek need for face-to-face confrontation; he’d set up a security cordon and starve the insurgents out if he had to.

Sletran spoke after a few moments. “No interference detected, Company Commander. If it’s intermittent, it could be a random jamming device coming from the target.”

“Your assessment is to continue the mission?”

“Absolutely.” Sletran let a little growl into his voice. His predatory instincts were at full force despite the cool command he exercised.

That was good enough for Erybet. Time to end this damned rebellion and go home to our Imdiko. “Company Commander Erybet assigns full authority to Group Commander Sletran to carry out the mission. All confirmations verified. My order is to destroy the insurgent threat. Good luck and be careful, Sletran.”

“We’ll all see you soon, Commander Erybet. Teams A and B, commence planting of explosives.”

Minutes of com silence ticked by. Erybet hated these long moments of waiting and worrying in the dark. Akrij definitely had it right, jumping into the fray rather than holding down the command center and feeling useless.

Erybet’s aides felt the strain too, especially the Nobek. Too well trained to show impatience, tension nevertheless flowed from Tas in waves. He growled, “I’ll be glad when we’ve taken care of the last of these holdouts, Commander.”

Erybet nodded his agreement. “This is supposed to be the last large group of insurgents here on New Bethlehem. With any luck, we’ll be heading home in a few weeks.”

Home. And Conyod. By the ancestors, all he and Sletran talked about in their off time was their Imdiko and how much they missed him. Because New Bethlehem was such a hotbed of trouble, they’d not been allowed communications to home. No one had, as casualties on the small colony and once-secret military base continued to mount for Earther and Kalquorian alike despite the ending of the war. The only sense of contact with Conyod came through the occasional visits from his Nobek father. Vel had been cleared to come to the ravaged colony to make deals with the peaceful colonists for kestarsh. The Earthers had lost nearly all their livestock to the war and rebellion.

The identities of those trying to quell the uprising on New Bethlehem were kept quiet. Even Vel’s activities had been deemed a security issue, and he’d been sworn to secrecy just like any member of the military. Having been a foot soldier himself in the past, Vel’s loyalty was never questioned. He’d cleared the security measures without a problem, and as far as Erybet knew, he’d never told his clan or Conyod he’d been on the colony.

The only way loved ones discovered a clanmate, son, brother, or father had gone to New Bethlehem was if the dead body was shipped home. While the terrible truth of the colony could not be hidden from the public, at least those who served there and lived could be protected.

Erybet had watched many men, several under his own command, die in this terrible place. He had no doubt he was a changed man, seeing all he had. But eventually the nightmares would stop once he was out of here. Having Sletran with him helped him cope with the unrelenting fighting in the meantime. That, and the eventuality of going home to Conyod. Anticipation of relaxing on the balcony with drinks, looking out over the green ocean and pink-sanded beach, of sharing stories and laughter again was the light at the end of this dark tunnel.

Today’s mission might very well signal the achievement of that goal. One last bloody hit on those who refused to bow to the inevitable, who killed for no other reason but blind retribution, and it would be done.

A loud blast of static came over the com, interrupting Erybet’s hopeful thoughts. Between the buzzing hiss of interference, Sletran’s now-desperate voice faded in and out.

“… not activate … I repeat …. Mataras and children … do not … now!”

Erybet went on full alert. Even under attack, his Nobek had never sounded that frantic. “Sletran? What’s wrong?”

An eternity of long, silent seconds passed as he waited for an answer. When it came, Sletran sounded like he was screaming the words, though it was barely discernable through the badly distorted connection.

“… get in … search … survivors … Erybet … bad intel—”

He was suddenly cut off, and cold terror blasted through Erybet’s guts. Not caring how desperate he sounded, Erybet yelled, “Sletran, talk to me! High Commander Akrij, respond.”

Akrij’s cool voice came through clearly. “The target has been successfully destroyed, Company Commander, despite Team A not carrying out execute orders. I am making my way to Sletran to find out what has happened to Team A.”

More silence, leaving Erybet to listen to his heart thunder. Akrij is there. Sletran is alive. It’s going to be okay. Too bad he didn’t truly believe that.

Finally, with gorgeous clarity, Sletran spoke. “Group Commander Sletran to Company Commander Erybet.”

Erybet’s eyes closed in relief. His Nobek sounded perfectly fine. Steeling his voice to not betray the depth of emotion he felt, he answered, “Sletran, you’re coming in clear now. What happened?”

“The intelligence was bad, or the insurgents knew we were coming and planted civilians in their place. We have killed an unknown number of Earther Mataras and children.” Sletran’s voice lost its composure then, trembling over the frequency. “Erybet, there are bodies all over. Women and little ones—”

Erybet exchanged horrified looks with his aides. Then he looked at the vid suspended in the air in front of him. He couldn’t help but stare at the intelligence on its invisible surface, the information that said the building had been filled with insurgent soldiers plotting murder and mayhem. No women and children were mentioned. No innocents were supposed to be there.

The vid mocked him with its falsehoods. How had they gotten this so wrong?

I told him to go ahead with the attack. I gave the order. My Nobek carried it out and now there is blood of Mataras and babies on our hands.

His lips numb, Erybet whispered, “Sletran.” The word was nearly silent to his own ears. Erybet forced volume into his strengthless voice. “Sletran.”

The shaken voice answered him. “My Dram – Commander?”

“Commence search for survivors if you haven’t already. I’m on my way.”

* * * *

Conyod stared at his Dramok. The Slaughter of Innocents on New Bethlehem was considered the most horrendous of crimes perpetrated as a result of the war with Earth. Kalquorians and Earthers alike cried out for justice against those responsible, despite the military’s assertion it had all been a terrible mistake.

His clanmates had been party to that tragedy. Had ordered it carried out.

Erybet’s gaze was far away, looking into an unthinkable past. “It was beyond horrible when I got to the scene. I can’t even describe it to you. I won’t.” His eyes closed, and a single tear slid out from under one eye. “How could we have been so far off with our intelligence?”

“How could this happen?” Conyod asked. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“We still don’t know. The informant’s credentials were supposed to be solid. Our own intelligence said we’d find the rebels there.” Erybet swallowed. “Of course Sletran took it personally, claiming all the fault was his. He tried to stop Team B from setting off the explosives, but the com didn’t work properly, and…”

His voice died off. In the silence, Conyod thought of how protective his Nobek had always been, especially when it came to those weaker than himself. When Conyod had run away from home as a child to a strange town and been confronted by bullies, it had been Sletran who had come to his defense. Who had seen to it Conyod got back home safely. Had kept in touch and offered support on the blackest days when the Imdiko was at his lowest.

Sletran did not knowingly hurt those he felt deserved shelter and security. He sure as hell would never harm women and children.

Bad information and a shitty com connection killed those people. Not Sletran. Not my Nobek.

But knowing Sletran as he did, Conyod knew his clanmate couldn’t help but blame himself. Erybet was suffering from self-reproach as well. Yet they’d been left without resources to deal with the guilt, made to keep their torment a secret, even from their own Imdiko! It was wrong, and Conyod seethed at the faceless bureaucracy that had taken damaged psyches and left them to fester.

Anger made his voice hot. “You should have both instantly been placed on therapeutic leave. Analyzed, given coping instruction, all of it. At the very least.”

Erybet sounded tired. “Our orders keeping this classified came directly from the top. We knew there would be an outcry against the slaughter, unintentional as it was. As commanders directly responsible for the mission, both Sletran and I would be the target of attacks from enraged Kalquorians and Earthers.”

Conyod saw his point. “If it gets out, you could be murdered. People have been howling for the blood of those responsible since it happened.”

“Kalquorian men don’t kill women and children. And we don’t forgive those who do. It was kept a secret for our protection.”

Conyod leaned forward, slapping his palms hard on the table between them. “But it was a mistake! You didn’t know. You double checked everything. It wasn’t your faults!”

“Someone is to blame for all those deaths. I gave the order to Sletran. He led the teams. We are directly responsible.”

His Dramok was hurting terribly, and Conyod ached for him. But he was at least coping. He hadn’t given the final order. Their clanmate had.

“Erybet … Sletran will never forgive himself. Never.”

“I know.” He rubbed his temples, grimacing as if in pain. “New Bethlehem was a nightmare before the slaughter. We would have been changed men even without that last horror.”

Conyod stilled. There was more? “Tell me.”

Erybet drew in a huge breath. “The war was over, but the insurgents on that colony just wouldn’t let it go. They were made up of soldiers manning a secret military base hidden there. We’d learned of the installation just before Earth’s Armageddon. They refused to give up the fight. They attacked us every chance they got, even if it meant killing themselves or their own. They went after our people who were providing Earther refugees medical care, food, and shelter. Your father and his aides too, and all they were doing was selling kestarsh.”

Conyod turned that over in his mind. He hadn’t known Vel had gone to New Bethlehem. “You wouldn’t have known who was the enemy or who was friend among the Earthers.”

Erybet shook his head. “Even some of the women wanted us dead. And some were forced to attack us when loved ones like their children were held hostage. Shortly before the slaughter, a young beautiful female like Ray-Ray walked right into the camp Sletran and I were based out of. She wanted food, and we could tell she hadn’t eaten in a while. Of course she was allowed in.”

“Oh no. Did she—?”

“It was right at evening meal time. She walked into the dining facility and detonated the explosives she had strapped to her body. I lost a lot of men that day. Your parents’ head trainer Nif died along with a couple others Vel had brought. He was out of his mind with fury.”

“Nif? But I thought he was killed in a shuttle crash.”

“Vel was sworn to secrecy, the same as the rest of us.” Erybet shook his head. “Now you know why he’s so worried about your security here. He’s seen Earther women kill.”

Conyod swallowed the pain he felt, a mirror of what he saw in Erybet’s eyes. So much had been kept from him. Worst of all was what had happened to his clanmates. “I’m sorry, my Dramok.”

“So am I.” Erybet reached across to touch Conyod’s hair. “You didn’t ask for this broken clan you ended up with.”

His clanmates needed him. Desperately. Conyod had to find a way to get them off New Bethlehem, because he had no doubt both were still trapped there in a significant way.

He said, “Now that I know what happened, maybe I can help.”

Erybet pursed his lips. “I don’t know how Sletran will take you knowing what happened. It would devastate him to think you feel any less for him.”

Conyod scowled. “You know I can’t censure him for an event so far out of his control.”

“I know, Conyod. But in his state of mind, I don’t know he’ll accept that. Help him, by all means. But proceed very carefully.”

Erybet was still stroking his hair, and Conyod leaned his cheek into the other man’s palm. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Erybet. I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass pressuring you to disobey orders.”

The Dramok found a smile. “You haven’t been an ass. You’ve been a concerned Imdiko trying to help his clan. I only would have found fault if you’d been less insistent.”

He stood and came around the table to stand next to Conyod, who also rose to his feet. They stared at each other, and Conyod finally felt the emotional distance closed. He had his Dramok back. Not the same Dramok he’d had before the war, but one he knew despite the changes. It was a relief.

Erybet said in a soft voice, “I can’t begin to tell you how much better I feel now that you know. It’s been so hard to keep it from you.”

His arms wrapped around Conyod. The Imdiko returned the embrace. A portion of the weight had left him, but the greater part of it still remained.

Conyod was still reeling from Erybet’s story. He couldn’t begin to think of how he’d help Sletran recover, not from such a horrific tragedy, but it didn’t matter. He knew he would do no less than his damnedest to make it happen. He would try until death claimed one or both of them. Conyod had to get his Nobek back too.

Chapter 11

Breft essentially bullied his way into Emperor Bevau’s office in the Government House by walking into the reception area, stating he was there to see the military’s Imperial Commander, and telling the Imdiko who handled Bevau’s appointments that he’d wait until the monarch found time to see him. Then he and Lidon stood over the poor flustered man who insisted the schedule was full. Finally the receptionist fled into Bevau’s private room to consult with his superior. The Royal Guards standing at the entryway said nothing, as was usual for the elite Nobeks charged with keeping the emperor safe. They simply watched Breft and Lidon, who stared back with an equal lack of emotion. Men just doing their jobs, and neither side taking issue with the other.

The Imdiko came back out, scowling for all he was worth. “Emperor Bevau has graciously decided to make time for you, officers. You may go in.”

Without a hint of smugness, Breft offered the upset man a slight bow. “Thank you so much for seeing to our very important matter. It is appreciated.”

The Imdiko sat down at his computer without another word and began issuing commands to shuffle his superior’s appointments.

Breft and Lidon nodded to the Royal Guards as they passed into Bevau’s chamber. The Government House was a cliff building that also housed the Royal Council, which advised the Imperial Clan on all matters dealing with the wellbeing of Kalquor. Breft’s Dramok was a councilman himself, and a well-respected one at that. He had offices two floors below this one.

Half a dozen more Royal Guards stood at attention within the room. Breft and Lidon crossed the polished rock floor silently, neither looking anywhere but straight ahead towards one of three of Kalquor’s emperors. Bevau’s desk was against the far wall, a long, square metallic surface that held no less than four computers. Vid readouts floated in the air before the big Nobek.

Breft grimaced. Like most of his breed, he hated the administrative parts of his job. No doubt the emperor had a horrendous amount of such work to judge from the number of readouts and computers in front of him. Being the ruler of an empire was not something the Global Security officer would ever aspire to. Being the head of his precinct had enough such nonsense, so much so that sometimes Breft wished he hadn’t allowed himself to be promoted a year ago.

Then again, Bevau was a very rare Kalquorian. Though he was officially classified a Nobek, he was actually also half Imdiko. Maybe his nurturing side didn’t mind the filework portion of his position.

No one with good sense would ever discount the emperor’s fighting abilities just because of his supposed gentler nature. The tall man was a pure brute when angered. When his empress had been attacked shortly after joining his clan, Bevau had cut the head off one of her assailants. With savage joy. Rumors said he’d made the man’s skull into a cup which he drank from every night before retiring, but Breft discounted that as pure absurdity. Empress Jessica would never allow such a barbaric trophy in her home, and that woman ruled the Imperial Clan.

Bevau ordered his vids paused and off before standing to greet them. The man was almost ridiculously handsome with perfect features and long, spiraling curls that reached to the middle of his back. His sleeveless black formsuit, complete with the royal purple trim, clung to a well-muscled body. Dark scars on his veined biceps were fighting marks of honor any Nobek would be proud to wear.

Handsome or not, Bevau’s disapproval was plain to see. His black brows knit together over narrowed eyes and his lips thinned in a frown. Before Breft and Lidon could properly greet their ruler, he snapped, “I received your message this morning, and I assume that’s why you’re here. Do you have any idea of the hell New Bethlehem was for our men?”

Breft and Lidon bowed deeply. Keeping his tone carefully respectful, Breft said, “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, my emperor. To answer your question, I know it was one of the worst spots during the war.”

“As well as after the war. In fact, it got worse once the official hostilities were done. Earthers committed suicide attacks against our soldiers. Against their own people who peacefully surrendered. It was an abattoir and no one ever knew where the next round of violence would come from.”

Lidon’s voice was a soothing counterpoint to Bevau’s obvious agitation. “I’ve heard many didn’t come back with their minds intact.”

Bevau walked around his desk to stand near them. “You heard correctly. Half the men who fought there and are still alive have spent time in psych wards since coming home. The other half are having problems as well.”

Bevau thought of the Matara on the beach. Of the one draped over the statue in the square. Seeing them one at a time was horrific enough, but thinking of the many who’d died in the infamous slaughter … children too … made him stiffen. “Are you saying that excuses the massacre, my emperor?”

Bevau suddenly bared fangs at him. There was no hint of any Imdiko nature in his expression and Breft went very still. He’d gone too far with his rash statement. His emperor was a conscientious man, and no doubt the slaughter weighed heavily on him.

“My apologies, my emperor. I was completely out of line by saying that.” Breft lowered his head.

After a moment, Bevau sighed. “Few know what really happened. Few care. All that matters is innocent women and babes were killed. No one wants to hear the massacre was due to a mistake and malfunctioning equipment.”

Lidon inhaled sharply. Breft raised his gaze to look at the emperor in surprise.

Bevau nodded, his expression despondent. “That’s right. A company went in based on a reliable report of insurgent activity in the area. A report that had been fact checked and found feasible. We’re not sure if the insurgents discovered they’d been informed on, or just how it happened that so many civilians were in the building we attacked. The onsite commanding officer realized the error just before they set off explosives, but due to a com failure the attack went down anyway.”

Breft was thunderstruck. Beside him, Lidon groaned. “It sounds like Armageddon all over again.”

“Except we had no one to blame but ourselves for the deaths on New Bethlehem. It was an honest miscalculation that cost dozens of lives.”

Breft shook his head. “I can understand the secrecy then.”

Bevau sat heavily on the edge of his desk. “The deaths of those Mataras and children were terrible. I’ve lost a lot of sleep over it. They deserve some sort of justice, but it’s not mine to give.”

He glanced at a wall vid, and Breft followed his gaze. Empress Jessica, in a rare moment of lightheartedness, smiled brilliantly from the still photo. Framed by long chestnut hair, her elfin face shone with unrestrained happiness. She held her two children, who were laughing at whoever had taken the picture.

It made Breft think of his own Matara and little ones. His chest throbbed with an ache that was equal parts love and worry.

Still looking at his family, Bevau said, “My heart breaks to think of those deaths. But it was not intentional. The men who made it happen have suffered tremendously already without earning public hatred.”

Breft took a deep breath to ease the heaviness that filled him. “My emperor, you’ve read the messages left by this Beast. Someone who was on New Bethlehem, not necessarily involved with the massacre, is taking out his damage on innocent Mataras here. He must be stopped.”

A muscle jumped in the emperor’s jaw. He refused to look at Breft. “I will not expose anyone I don’t have to. We had thousands of soldiers on that colony. I trust Global Security, but I will take no chances on having my men who are innocent killed by a self-righteous mob.”

Lidon, ever diplomatic, offered a solution. “If we were to give you specific names, my emperor?”

Bevau looked at him with an expression of relief. “I will accept that. Tell me your suspects and I will tell you if they were there.”

“Company Commander Dramok Erybet.”

Bevau started. His mouth dropped open as if to protest, and then he snapped it shut. He jerked a nod.

Breft added. “Group Commander Nobek Sletran.”

Bevau’s hands shook for a moment and stilled. He jerked another nod. It was apparent these two men in particular meant something to him.

“Foot soldier Nobek Monby. Military aide Nobek Tas.”

Bevau didn’t react as strongly as those two names. “To the best of my knowledge, both those men went missing soon after they returned from New Bethlehem. Tas left a suicide note, but his body hasn’t been found. They served under Erybet and Sletran.”

Lidon’s voice was very quiet, low enough to escape the hearing of the Royal Guard. “Were any of them involved in the massacre itself?”

Bevau licked his lips. “All of them.”

Breft swallowed. If it turned out one of his four suspects was the Beast, that would open up the question of whether the Slaughter of Innocents was a cataclysmic mistake or planned murder.

The look on Bevau’s face said he knew that too. He leaned close and whispered, “I know Erybet and Sletran, Breft. Good soldiers. Good men. Neither of them would harm any Matara no matter what they went through on New Bethlehem. It would be so against their nature as to be impossible.”

Breft spoke carefully, not wanting to earn Bevau’s anger. “I have to consider every possible element, my emperor. I promise you my investigation will be very discreet. As long as I have no reason to believe either of them is behind this, they will not even be aware they are suspects.”

Bevau fixed his intense gaze on Breft’s face. “Be very sure of this before you approach them. I don’t think you’re aware of the damage knowing they’re under investigation could cause.”

“Then tell me, my emperor.”

“Two-thirds of Sletran’s group have committed suicide over the massacre already. The rest are in and out of internment camps due to violent crimes or remanded to psych wards.”

Lidon gaped. “All of them?”

Bevau gave him a grim smile. “All have found trouble but Erybet and Sletran themselves, and the one Dramok who served as Erybet’s aide on New Bethlehem.”

Breft and Lidon exchanged horrified glances. Whether by mistake or design, the massacre continued to claim lives. That over half had killed themselves because of it brought the terrible weight back into Breft’s chest.

“‘There is none more unforgiving than the self’,” Lidon quoted from the Book of Life. He bowed to Bevau. “My Dramok still struggles with the guilt he feels over being a key player in Armageddon, though he was absolved of all blame. You may be assured the four names we gave you will not leave our confidences.”

Bevau nodded. “Their lives depend upon it.”

Breft added his bow. “Thank you for your valuable assistance, my emperor.”

Bevau had turned once more to the laughing Matara and children in the vid photo. He said nothing. They left him staring at his family’s portrait.

* * * *

Conyod left work an hour early, returning home with Erybet. He simply couldn’t stare at reports anymore, not when his mind was buzzing from the knowledge he now had.

His Dramok and Nobek had inadvertently caused New Bethlehem’s Slaughter of Innocents. It was a lot to wrap his head around.

As soon as the men walked into their home, Erybet called, “Sletran?”

The rough voice raised to answer. “We’re out on the balcony.”

Conyod exchanged a look with his Dramok. “We?”

They went out to discover Rachel and Sletran relaxing in the whirlpool with drinks. It shouldn’t have concerned Conyod that his Nobek had picked Ray-Ray up and brought her back here. Yet for some reason, it did.

Rachel waved cheerfully for a moment before assuming a grumpier expression. In Kalquorian she demanded, “Where the fuck you be? We wait forever you two assholes get home.”

From the corner of his eye, Conyod saw Erybet’s jaw drop, a match to his own shock at her language. Sletran and Rachel burst into gales of laughter at their expressions.

The clinical part of Conyod’s mind noted how his beloved’s voice sounded stronger and less raspy as she learned to use it once more. The not so clinical parts of him saw she looked stunning in a skintight bright yellow soaksuit. It dipped low between her breasts, showing the inside curves to advantage. He wondered how much the bottom part revealed. What he could see rippling beneath the water’s surface showed the long stretch of her legs.

Conyod felt heat spilling into his cock, making him hard. He turned his attention to Sletran. The Nobek was still chuckling, looking so much like his old self that it made Conyod’s heart ache anew for what his clanmate had suffered.

Erybet had recovered, mild disapproval replacing the stunned look on his face. “Really, Sletran? You’re teaching her profanity?”

Conyod crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “That will get her so much farther than good manners.”

Rachel kicked water at them. “Laugh. Is funny, you shit elbows.”

Sletran roared with hysterical laughter. Erybet’s struggle to rein in his humor was obvious, and Conyod turned his face away to hide the grin currently owning his face.

Sletran gasped between bellows of hilarity. “No, Ray-Ray. Clefgud sok is what you meant to say. Shit brains, not shit elbows.”

That did it. Erybet lost all pretense of Dramok-like control and fell apart. Conyod joined in, laughing hard enough that he forgot to breathe. After hearing the grim story of New Bethlehem, it felt damned good to laugh.

Rachel grinned and shrugged. “To say ‘shit’ is good. Sletran say need say shit when Conyod, Erybet cook.”

Conyod shook his head at Sletran. “Aren’t you a little old for that kind of humor?”

The Nobek grinned. “Aren’t you a little young to be such an uptight shit elbow?”

That got them laughing again. Conyod couldn’t remember the last time they’d all laughed so hard.

Sletran finally calmed down and stood. He got out of the whirlpool and used a drycloth to stop dripping. He wrapped it around his waist. To Rachel he said, “I’d like to speak to my clan for a moment, Ray-Ray. Will you excuse us?”

Rachel looked at the depleted drink she held in one hand, put it on the edge of the whirlpool, and picked up Sletran’s half-full cup. Raising it to the three men, she grinned and waved them away.

Chuckling, Erybet and Conyod followed Sletran into the dining room.

As soon as they were all gathered, Sletran spoke. “I know I haven’t been myself for quite some time. I didn’t realize how much I’d changed until Ray-Ray came along. When she’s around, I feel like I used to.”

Erybet nodded. “You act more like your old self when she’s present.”

“She makes me think I can be the man I was again.” He took a deep breath. “Can we clan her, Erybet?”

Conyod’s breath froze in his lungs. He exchanged a look with the Dramok. Of course Sletran noticed, and his eyes narrowed.

Erybet put a hand on the Nobek’s broad shoulder. “Before we discuss that, we need to address your emotional health, Sletran. I’ve been very worried. So worried that I have disobeyed orders from our superiors.”

Sletran’s gaze threatened to bore a hole in Erybet’s skull. “In what way, my Dramok?”

Conyod moved close. “He told me about what happened on New Bethlehem.”

Sletran jerked, his eyes widening as he turned to Conyod. In that instant, the Imdiko saw something he’d never thought his clanmate was capable of: utter terror.

Conyod hurried to calm the big Nobek. “I think you did the best you could in a no-win situation, Sletran. You won’t hear a word of condemnation from me. If you’ll let me, I’d like to help you deal with the pain better than you have been.”

Tension fled Sletran; so much so that his entire body sagged with the release of it. The need on his face made Conyod hurt. “You don’t see me as a monster?”

Conyod stepped forward to wrap his arms around the solid body of his clanmate. He whispered in Sletran’s ear, “Of course not.” Then, to mask the emotion that wanted to overwhelm him, he teased, “You know you’ll always be my hero. I worship your blade, my Nobek.”

Sletran snorted a brief expulsion of laughter. His fingers trailed lightly through Conyod’s hair before gently pushing him away. He gripped Conyod’s shoulders and studied him. After a moment, he seemed satisfied. “You don’t know what a relief it is to be able to look you in the eye again. Even if you didn’t understand – the secret is too big for me. I think it would have stolen my mind.” Another wash of fear, but much diminished, chased over his expression.

Conyod’s hands closed over Sletran’s biceps. “I’ll help you. We’ll figure this out,” he vowed.

Erybet patted Sletran’s back. “As to your request. We all want Rachel in our clan, but it may be best to give you more time, my Nobek.”

Sletran released Conyod to turn to their Dramok. “Please, Erybet, let’s clan her now. She gives me something tangible to work toward. I can be the Nobek she deserves, I know it.”

Erybet looked to Conyod. “You’re the psychologist, Conyod. What do you think?”

Of course he wanted a professional assessment, one only a trained therapist could give. And Erybet wanted Rachel too, so much that he wouldn’t be able to render an objective answer.

Conyod wasn’t assured he had the ability to do that himself. He’d dreamed of clanning Rachel for months. Still, he tried to consider the question with all due fairness.

She still had yet to spend a night in her quarters at the Matara compound, only going there to change clothes for the most part. Today she’d had her only time away from members of the clan since her release from the hospital. They were already living together for all practical purposes.

And Sletran sounded so sincere, so sure that he’d do better with her as his mate. To feel his Nobek’s hopeful gaze on him, the pleading expression begging for a chance made Conyod want to make it happen simply because Sletran wanted it too.

Conyod bit his lip. “There’s no doubt she’s good for him. If he could teach her something besides foul language, he might be good for her too.”

Sletran quirked a hopeful smile. “If you’ll trust me in this, I swear on my life you won’t be sorry. Take it as my greatest vow, my Imdiko.”

It was too soon. Sletran was not yet stable. Yet, how could Conyod refuse him? He exhibited hope for happiness, something the Nobek had not shown since coming home. There was another element too; helping Rachel could very well help Sletran make amends for the victims of New Bethlehem, at least in his own mind. She was his greatest chance to realize redemption.

If Conyod took that away, Sletran could descend into true madness, one they might never pull him out of.

He needs this. I think he loves her, and that can go a long way to heal them both. I hope. If not, we could be taking Ray-Ray down a dark path.

Conyod swallowed. He slowly, almost reluctantly, nodded to his clanmates. “I think he can handle it, my Dramok.”

Sletran’s grin lit up his entire face, making his rough features as boyish as the day Conyod had first seen him. “Thank you, Conyod. Thank you for having faith in me.”

They looked to Erybet. The Dramok’s smile was as brilliant as Sletran’s. “Let’s go claim our Matara.”

Conyod’s pulse sped up. Was this really happening? Was Rachel truly about to be his?

He could hardly feel his feet as he followed Erybet back out to the balcony with Sletran next to him. They stepped out into the sun just as Rachel got out of the pool.

The Imdiko barely restrained a groan. The legs of her suit were cut high, almost to her waist. The soaksuit molded to her luscious curves as if painted onto her body. The sight of her wet, the sun gleaming off her deep mahogany skin and swelling her one-piece in all the right places made his groin tighten with need.

She’s beautiful. Perfect. And mine. Finally mine.

Now that he knew what he was working with as far as Sletran and Erybet’s emotional issues, he could look forward to a day when the health of all was restored. He would be happy again. Just the anticipation was enough to make him giddy right now.

Erybet’s voice was hoarse as he looked at their intended. “Had enough?”

She nodded and rubbed a drying cloth over her short cap of hair. Conyod had the urge to make her stop so he could lick every drop off her magnificent flesh.

There was something more important about to happen however, so he held his tongue. He stood slightly behind his Dramok, slightly to Erybet’s right, his dicks as hard as rocks. Erybet continued. “We have something to ask you, Matara Rachel Hicks.”

She blinked at the use of her full, proper name. She stopped drying and looked at them expectantly. Conyod saw the flash of hope in her eyes as her gaze met his before she returned her attention to Erybet.

“Would you consent to joining my clan as our Matara?”

Her smile burst over her face. She bounced up and down, clapping her hands. In Kalquorian she shouted, “Yes, Dramok Erybet, Nobek Sletran, Imdiko Conyod. I be Matara.”

Erybet reached back to grab Conyod and Sletran’s arms, pulling them forward so they stood side by side before their new mate. “Then we are clan,” he laughed.

Conyod had no ability to contain himself. He pushed past his Dramok and grabbed Rachel, swinging her up into the air, and then yanking her to his body for a sound kiss. Behind him, Sletran and Erybet’s laughter filled the air.

It was a day for much joy.

* * * *

One of the eateries that catered to both Kalquorian and Earther tastes had an outside courtyard surrounded by white-flowered zela trees. It was a large establishment and the food was good, although not as good as A Taste of Home owned by Imperial Clan Brother Vax of Clan Bacoj. Since the smaller A Taste of Home had a weeks’ long waiting list, this particular dining option, called Kalearth Cuisine, was a suitable venue for last-minute celebrations.

Breft and Raxstad stood just beyond the zela trees, unobserved as they watched Erybet’s joyful clan. The little group drank and ate and laughed in obvious high spirits. Breft had brought Raxstad up to speed on Emperor Bevau’s revelations, with the understanding that his second in command would not speak of it to anyone else and only with him and Lidon in the most private of circumstances.

Raxstad’s rough features, broader and more primal than even Nobek Sletran’s, were relaxed in a smile as they spied on their quarry. “If that’s not a clan celebrating the addition of a Matara, I’ll eat your shoes. The old ones that smell so bad.”

Breft snorted. “As much as I’d enjoy seeing that, I’d say you’re right. They look happy, don’t they?”

“Second thoughts on that Dramok and Nobek?”

Breft sighed. “And third. And fourth. I’ve seen them at official gatherings in the past, and they were the grimmest, most detached men you could imagine. I always supposed it was because military men, particularly Nobeks, don’t do well when their time isn’t structured. New Bethlehem aside, leave might have done them more harm than good. Now they have someone to direct their energies on.”

“Mataras go a long way towards healing hurts.”

Breft had to smile at that. “They do, don’t they?” He sobered again as he looked at Rachel, who was accepting a bite of food from Sletran’s fingers. “But if the Beast of New Bethlehem is one of those two men, that young woman is in a lot of danger. What did Lidon come up with this afternoon?”

Raxstad’s gaze stayed on the newly completed clan. “Before New Bethlehem, they had impeccable records. Both decorated, both with high accolades from their superiors. Erybet is respected by even the most demanding Nobek officers and Sletran’s men would follow him into a Tragoom mating frenzy. He’s also volunteered for years to teach Imdikos self defense. He’s very protective of those who he feels need extra help.”

Breft folded his arms over his chest. “Not exactly men who you’d think would brutalize innocent Mataras or possibly plot to kill children.”

“No. But Lidon also discovered the rate of violent outbursts of many who served on New Bethlehem. Even among those who he’s sure were nowhere near the massacre, the statistics are chilling. That place fucked up a lot of good men’s heads.”

Breft’s eyebrow rose. “No names of New Bethlehem combatants have been released, except those who died there. He actually got into some of the sealed records?”

“Lower classified documents only. And you didn’t hear that from me.”

Breft was impressed. And a little worried for his officer who was once a spy. Breaking into classified records could put Lidon in prison if the military got wind of it. It could land Breft and Raxstad in hot water as well if it came to light they knew what he’d been up to. However, Breft was desperate enough in his search for the Beast to look the other way. “Tell him to be careful. We don’t want our department up on charges, and I don’t want to lose him.”

Raxstad’s grin gleamed in the evening light. “You know Lidon. The man leaves no traces. If he was the Beast, we’d never find out. He’s that damned good.”

They watched Erybet’s obviously happy clan for several minutes more. Breft’s mind was turning over what the men had been through and the unfairness of what they would face if their participation in the massacre came to light.

He told his second, “It’s funny. Lidon’s clan was the one who got us access to Earth, which led to their Armageddon. Millions dead. Yet he and his Dramok are lauded as heroes for ending the war. Now let’s assume the Beast of New Bethlehem had nothing to do with the slaughter there. In that case, you have Erybet and Sletran, who were handed bad intelligence. They acted on it in good faith, simply doing their jobs, and it led to the deaths of a couple of dozen.”

“And nearly everyone would be calling for their lives if they knew. The difference is we can point at Earth’s leadership for putting Armageddon in motion. There’s no other scapegoat for New Bethlehem.” Raxstad shook his head. “I’ll admit, I think of those dead innocents and I still feel the urge to pound on those two for good measure. Not because they deserve it. It’s just that the slaughter was so senseless and I want to find some sort of justice for those poor victims.”

Breft frowned. Raxstad was a very fair man. If someone like him wanted to take out his rage on Erybet and Sletran, then those of less understanding would definitely want to see the pair dead.

You two better hope the public never finds out your connection. You wouldn’t last a single day if it comes out, he thought at the men.

To his second he said, “It’s getting late, Raxstad, and our clans will be missing us. We’ll pick this up in the morning.”

They departed, leaving the clan celebrating. Breft couldn’t help but smile as their laughter followed his steps. He really hoped Erybet and Sletran were innocent of the Beast of New Bethlehem’s crimes. He also hoped their lives continued to get better and they would find much happiness with their new Matara. Some deserved redemption more than others.

* * * *

Full of food and liquor to the point they’d let a navigation service pilot the shuttle home, Erybet’s clan stepped into the greeting room. Rachel was pleasantly tipsy. And aroused. There had been enough teasing and fondling beneath their table at the restaurant that she considered foreplay done. She was ready to consummate her wedding night with her three lifemates. She stumbled ahead of the men, giddily navigating her way towards the sleeping room.

Apparently unaware of what she was up to, Erybet’s voice behind her asked, “More drinks?”

Nearly to the door that led into the next room, Rachel turned. He was behind the bar, studying his options. Conyod leaned against the counter, his gaze just a bit off focus as he looked at her, smiling happily. Only Sletran seemed to have picked up on her mood. He was still in the middle of the room, but he watched her with sharp eyes.

Rachel pulled her dress off over her head, its decorative beading concealing the fact it was a simply cut sheath. She’d liked that it looked fancy but was extremely comfortable to wear. She threw it at Erybet.

Conyod laughed, and his sappy expression was erased to make room for a more heated stare. “I believe the answer to your question is no, my Dramok.”

“But the celebration continues nonetheless.” Sletran leered at her, the swelling of his groin letting Rachel know he appreciated the turquoise lacy underthings that did more to bare than conceal. Erybet’s stare was almost as predatory as their Nobek’s.

She grinned, happy she’d gotten their undivided attention. Backing slowly towards the door, she unhooked her bra, then let it slip from her shoulders to land on the floor.

Sletran growled. All three took a step forward, then stopped as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. Their purple eyes were avid, the pupils growing to make their gazes dark as they waited and watched.

Rachel pushed the underwear down over her thighs, and then let it slip over her knees, down her calves, finally coming to rest around her ankles. She stepped slowly out of the soft fabric. She let the three pairs of eyes look her over. From a few feet away, she caught the spicy aroma of the Kalquorians’ arousal. Even if she hadn’t smelled their lust, she would have to be blind to miss the tenting of their pants.

Smiling naughtily, she turned to give them a nice view of her backside. Then she suddenly took off running for the sleeping room.

She’d just hit the doorway to the room when a growling Sletran caught her. Lifted in his powerful arms, she yelped her surprise. He threw her onto the soft surface of the sleeping mat. Before she could catch her breath he was on her, turning her over onto her back and pressing the weight of his body down on hers. She looked into a face made up of dark narrowed eyes and lips that curled back to reveal long fangs. His growl rumbled from deep in his chest, shaking her entire body with its force.

Alarm and arousal hit Rachel in the guts in one breathless punch. Sletran looked absolutely feral, a rabid animal ready to bite and fuck all at the same time. There wasn’t a sign of civilized man anywhere in his hungry face. He’d turned into a force of nature, one that could tear her apart in an instant.

Erybet’s amused voice sounded from the room’s entrance. “Ray-Ray, you never run from a Nobek unless you want him to be very animal with you.”

He dropped onto the sleeping mat on one side of her. Conyod did the same on the other side, propping his head up on one bent arm. She saw all of this in her peripheral vision, because she couldn’t take her eyes off of Sletran. He was starting to ease down, his fangs slowly folding back into his mouth, but he still looked more animal than man.

Conyod said, “Running prey arouses the Nobek breed’s instincts, my love. His first impulse is to kill or fuck whatever he catches.”

Sletran’s fangs had finally disappeared behind his flat teeth, but his eyes were still alert and his voice was very, very rumbly. “I will never do you harm, my Matara. But I might get a little rough if you’re not more careful.”

A little rough, huh? I kind of like the sound of that, she thought. She strained upward and bit the Nobek’s chin, harder than could be called playful.

His lips stretched back in a snarl. She snarled back.

His fangs descended once more. “You are a naughty one,” he said. His body had started a fine trembling, as if he strained to maintain control.

In her broken Kalquorian, Rachel said, “What you do about it? Big, strong Nobek make Matara obey?”

Erybet grinned. His fangs were showing now too. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Sletran’s gaze never left Rachel’s face. “Indeed it does. One I accept with my Imdiko’s approval.”

Conyod looked amused by the whole affair, but his expression grew stern as he stared down at Rachel. “As long as she promises to say sholt if things become uncomfortable.”

Rachel gave him a funny look.

His tone became demanding. “I know you, Ray-Ray. You might make it a matter of pride to continue beyond safety and not acknowledge physical or emotional distress.”

Erybet’s eyes narrowed. “That will not be allowed. Promise you will tell us if we become too intense or we cannot continue.”

Sletran added, “I have a perfectly good hand as well as an accommodating Imdiko. A Dramok too, if I feel like fighting for it. Any of those will serve me fine if you do not swear you’ll do as they ask.”

Rachel’s heart warmed with the concern all three men showed. That Sletran wanted her mightily was no question; the proof was what felt like a twin pair of steel rods sandwiched between their bellies. Yet he was not willing to risk her wellbeing just to get his rocks off. More than ever, Rachel was glad to be a part of this clan. Her heart swelled with love for the three men who cared so much for her. She nodded her assent.

“Good.” That dark, erotically scary look took over his face again. “I haven’t disciplined a badly behaved girl in a long time.”

Before she could react, he flipped her over onto her belly. Oh no you don’t, Rachel thought. Erybet’s not the only one you’ll have to fight for a little fun.

She scrambled to her knees and hands and rolled over a very surprised Conyod, heading for the edge of the bed. Delighted chuckles followed her flight, and she didn’t get anywhere near escaping before strong hands encircled her ankles and dragged her backwards. She yelped.

Rachel looked over her shoulder to see Sletran smirking at her as he pulled her towards his massive body. “Naughty, naughty,” he said. “A little extra discipline for your refusal to take the punishment due you.”

She bared her teeth at him and grabbed fistfuls of bed linens, trying to slow his dragging her backwards. She kicked ferociously.

Conyod’s laughter filled the room. “Would you like some help, Sletran?”

“I don’t need help with this little one.”

“I didn’t say you did. I asked if you wanted it.”

Erybet was every bit as amused. “Do let us assist, my Nobek? We’d enjoy it so much.”

Sletran’s smile was broad. “All right. Take her feet, my Dramok. Conyod, you’ve got her wrists?”

A firm but gentle grip closed over Rachel’s arms, pulling her clenched hands from the covers. “I do.”

Despite Rachel using all her strength to resist, Erybet and Conyod had her splayed flat on the thick mat only moments later. Sletran looked her over with an evaluating eye. “Very nice. Very, very nice. Now what should I use to make this beautiful ass sting?”

Rachel rolled her eyes up to look at the behemoth looming over her. He wasn’t going to spank her with his hands? Her heart fluttered in fright.

Sletran grinned, the threat ferocious in his chiseled face. He climbed off the bed and pulled the drapes on the wall apart to access one of the deep drawers. When he pulled out a thick, black paddle that looked like it was made of rubber, she groaned. Oh, that thing was going to hurt.

Moisture oozed from her pussy in anticipation. Rachel frowned. There was that weird response to fear again. She wondered if it was pain she liked, if she was some sort of masochist. Or was it simply being made helpless that she couldn’t escape? Which got her stomach tied in eager knots?

Whichever, a dark part of her looked forward to the punishment her Nobek was just as eager to dish out. His snug pants were even snugger at the crotch as his cocks strained the fabric.

Sletran stalked back to the bed, holding out the paddle in such a way that she could get a long, good look at it. It was twice the length of the big hand that held it, not counting the handle, and there were raised bumps along the edges. It was at least an inch thick.

The honey seeping from her womanhood became a gush. Oh yeah, she had some strange urges, all right. And Sletran looked all too ready to satisfy them judging from that fanged smile he wore.

First, he massaged the mounds he was getting ready to punish. The feel of his talented fingers massaging her rear made Rachel moan in spite of herself. His hand was hot and soothing. When his fingers brushed her slit, she jerked despite Erybet’s firm hold on her ankles. Sletran’s hand moved farther down, searching. He slid through her wetness.

“Look at this,” he invited the other two, drawing his hand away.

Rachel’s cheeks burned a little with embarrassment even though him showing the other two just how aroused she was made her lower parts warm even more. On display, about to be spanked and fucked, she was going molten.

Erybet chuckled, the sound dangerous. “We’ll have to come up with other ways to punish her when she actually misbehaves. This is turning into a reward.”

“I’ll work on that.” The threat in the Nobek’s tone made Rachel shiver. “Ray-Ray, what do you say if the pain becomes too much?”

“Sholt.”

“That goes for emotional overload too,” Conyod said. She looked up to take in his steady gaze. “Sometimes painful play brings up issues of past hurts. A situation like this might remind you of the torture you suffered.”

She gave him a gentle smile completely at odds with her body’s excitement. This was nothing like the prison on Earth. Not one bit.

He grinned. “She’s ready, my Nobek.”

Sletran didn’t say a word. There was a meaty smack from behind Rachel. An instant later heat suffused the center of both buttocks. She caught her breath. The next moment, sharp twinges of pain joined in. Her teeth clamped together and she uttered a high squeal.

It fucking hurt! And yet the heat from the strike stampeded through her, making her pussy ache with greedy ecstasy.

I am so damned screwy in the head. What the hell—

Her thought was cut off cleanly with another strike from the paddle, this one slightly below the first. Rachel yelped loudly on that one. She writhed helplessly in the grips of the other two men as burning, agonizing elation tore through her.

Sletran kept paddling, making her hotter and wetter despite, or perhaps because of, the growing pain. Every stinging slap from the thick implement heightened the delicious torment until she thought she might actually be able to climax from both the spanking and the men mastering her.

It ended far too soon for such a realization. Sletran leaned back and eyed her critically. Despite her throbbing ass, Rachel moaned a protest and tried to thrust her hips up for more.

“Greedy, greedy girl. Don’t you worry. We’re just getting started.”

His hand swept over her throbbing backside, bringing the ache back to the fore. Rachel’s groan felt as if it came all the way from her toes. It was a sound that was equal parts hurt and hunger.

Sletran’s gentle tone was completely at odds with the spanking he’d given her. “Do you remember the manacles you saw the first time you were in this room? Where they are located on the wall?”

Rachel’s pussy tightened. “Eryi.”

“You will go there. Now.”

Conyod and Erybet released her. She got to her hands and knees and crawled towards the edge of the bed.

Smack!

Rachel yipped at the flash of burning pain on her ass and gave the paddle-wielding Sletran wide eyes. What the hell did he do that for?

A slow, evil grin spread over his face. “Move faster.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Dominating bastard.

His arm was a blur her eyes couldn’t begin to follow as he landed another strike on her defenseless bottom. Rachel launched herself off the bed and bolted towards the curtained wall. Sletran was right on her heels, paddling her all the way with peppering blows, ushering her along like a herd dog with a wandering sheep.

Herd dog, hell! He’s a fucking wolf!

As soon as she reached the wall, the spanking stopped. Sletran swept the drape aside to reveal the metal cuffs and chains. “I should warn you that you’ve only had the smallest taste of my discipline, though I do enjoy your disobedience. Feel free to challenge me all you like so we can discover just how much you can take,” he said.

Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. Great. Just great. She was a masochist and he was a sadist. They were a perfect pair.

“Give me your wrists.”

She eyed the manacles. Was she really going to willingly make herself utterly helpless for these men, all three of whom were now looming over her like great gods of lust? A violent spasm clenched her pussy tight.

I guess I am then.

She offered the demanded body parts with a raised eyebrow to show Sletran she was being generous by not fighting. One side of his mouth lifted in amusement.

“Thank you, Ray-Ray. You are most accommodating.”

The cuffs closed over her wrists. Rachel’s arms were stretched high over her head, and she faced the wall. There was enough chain for her to turn around to face the room instead, but she thought she’d wait to see what her Nobek wanted. I can be easy to get along with, she thought.

He looked her up and down. “She needs to stand higher. Where is the half-moon cushion?”

“Other side of the sleeping mat. I’ll get it,” Conyod said.

The Imdiko returned with an emerald green cushion that was a half-sphere. Laying it on its flat side, he put it on the floor just behind Rachel.

“Step up, my little warrior,” Sletran said, helping her stand on top of the rounded piece. While he held her steady, Erybet and Conyod pushed it up against the wall beneath her. It wasn’t as soft as it looked. The cushion had just enough give for her feet to sink a little ways into it, keeping her from sliding off the slope. It had obviously been made for other uses, uses she could all too easily imagine. Her boys certainly had good taste in toys.

Sletran stepped behind her, his feet still on the floor. His hands seized her hips, pulling them slightly back. His groin rubbed against her sore buttocks. “Just the right height,” he groaned. Erybet adjusted the chains to her manacles, tightening them to keep her arms taut against their pull.

Today just keeps getting better, Rachel decided.

She expected Sletran to pull his pants down and have at her … and heaven knew, she was ready for that … but he surprised her by dropping to his knees on the floor instead. “Spread,” he rumbled, gently pushing her legs apart.

She did, and though her feet still had plenty of traction, Erybet and Conyod were right there on either side, making sure she wouldn’t slip. Meanwhile, the new position had her pussy spread wide open, and Sletran was looking up at it from only a few inches away. There was that uncomfortable sensation of being much too exposed, but Rachel determinedly shoved it down. The men obviously liked what they saw. They’d clanned her, hadn’t they? And clanning was for life.

Sletran fingers traced the lips of her sex. She was soaked already, and the light touch brought more honey from her trembling flesh. Rachel felt him lean close, heard him inhale deeply of her scent. A growl rumbled from his throat. Two fingers slid inward to firmly stroke the indentation between outer and inner pussy lips. Rachel gasped and rocked her hips to encourage more of the delicious fondling.

Conyod tilted his head to gaze at her half-lidded eyes. “That’s it, my Matara. Give yourself over to him.”

His warm hand caressed her lower belly, stirring up more sensations. Erybet’s long, graceful fingers plucked carefully at her nipples, making them stiff in reaction. Bolts of delight zinged down to her clit, which Sletran’s teasing touch kept coming close to without quite making contact. She threw her head back and groaned.

“That’s right,” Erybet murmured in her ear. The soft breath against that tiny cup sent gooseflesh erupting all over her skin. “You are ours. You belong to us. You need do nothing but surrender.”

The fingers playing with her pussy settled against the entrance to her. Two pressed in. At the same time, Conyod’s hand dipped lower to brush her clit. Erybet’s tongue flicked into her ear, which was a surprisingly erotic sensation. Rachel cried out, her entire body stiffening in reaction. Desire stampeded through her body, making every touch that much more electrifying.

Erybet grasped her chin, turning her face towards his. His mouth brushed hers, and she parted her lips for him. His tongue invaded, stroking hers. He tasted of masculine musk and passion, and Rachel’s tongue twined around his.

Sletran’s fingers buried deep into her pussy, probing, searching. Rachel shouted into Erybet’s mouth when the Nobek found that supremely sensitive spot. Her legs gave out, but the three men were ready to support her as molten heat suffused her body. She jerked her hips, driving the nerve cluster against Sletran’s fingertips over and over. Fierce need made her work with almost frenzied speed. Her mind crumbled into bits, all thoughts consumed by the ravenous hunger in her womb. All she knew was desperate desire and the drive for release.

“Enough,” a deep voice said, and except for the supporting arms that held her, the touches disappeared.

Rachel’s shriek filled the room. Her body was one primal ache and she was being denied fulfillment.

“Easy, my eager warrior.” The voice in her ear was half-violent, half-amused. She twisted her head around to see Sletran looking down at her over her shoulder. Erybet and Conyod had stepped back, giving him sole possession of her, though they watched with avid gazes.

Rachel swallowed. They were going to watch Sletran fuck her without participating themselves. Being on display for such an act was scary and exciting.

Sletran pulled her close so that her spine met his hard chest and abdomen. He was naked. She really had gone bye-bye for him to have disrobed without her noticing. Thick, heated lengths pressed against her butt crack.

Enough of Rachel’s scattered brain re-assembled itself for her to make a plea. “Krewet?” She rubbed her still-smarting ass against his groin, smearing the wetness of his lubrication into her crevice.

“Oh, absolutely,” he answered.

His hand adjusted his cocks, putting the tip of his larger one against her pussy. The smaller, secondary cock appeared, its beginning jutting just at the front of her mound. Right up against her clit. Rachel’s breath caught.

“Feel something you want, my Matara?”

She jerked a nod, staring into his dark eyes. The pupils had enlarged so that they appeared almost wholly black, with only slivers of the blue-purple irises showing.

“Then I will give it to you.”

She was so wet that when Sletran pressed up, he slid halfway in before he could stop himself. Rachel’s head rocked back to fall on his shoulder, her insides clenching with near climax at the abrupt entry. She shuddered.

“My sweet, eager Matara,” the Nobek groaned. He shook almost as hard as she, making Rachel wonder if he’d been close to coming too. He held still as they both fought to recover.

His hands cupped her breasts. Rachel was nowhere near flatchested, but those huge paws swallowed her mounds whole. Damn, Sletran was a big man all over the place.

When his breath had steadied, he whispered, “Let’s continue this.”

His renewed invasion was slower, carefully entering her, filling her to bursting. Rachel’s every exhale ended in a sob as not only did the thick cock rub the hot spot inside her sheath, but the smaller cock moved against her clit as he drove steadily inside her. Her head slowly shook from side to side as he took her. Her insides were roiling, desperate to spill over. Tiny spasms shook her, small bursts of pleasure that did more to feed the swelling ecstasy than relieve it.

Sletran pressed in until he was embedded completely. He paused.

“Bring your legs together, tight.”

His hands slid from her breasts to her hips, steadying her as she obeyed. The new position trapped his second cock between her thighs. It nestled up against her clit and mound, a hot, wet brand searing her sensitive skin. It jutted, darkly purple, curving upwards. She panted in reaction.

The Nobek’s hands traveled up Rachel’s body, moving up her ribcage, over her upper arms, all the way up to her hands. He made her close her fists over the chains holding her stretched up.

“Hang on to these and fuck me.”

Her breath caught. She clutched the cool metal links hard. Using them to help support her weight, Rachel rocked her hips upward. Sletran’s cock slid outward, dragging delightfully against the sweet spot. At the same time, his second cock rubbed against her clit.

“Aaaaaaah,” Rachel breathed in a protracted sigh. She pressed back, drawing him back in and massaging her clit, which had emerged from its hood. The pleasure was profound, almost painful in its acuteness. The tip of him met her cervix, sending slivers of elation through her belly. She wanted more. She wanted it harder.

She rocked up, then back with more strength. A thunderclap of bliss poured through her. Oh yeah. That was exactly right. That was what she needed.

“Yesss,” Sletran hissed in her ear. “Make yourself come fucking me. Make yourself come hard, my Matara.”

His mouth covered the muscle in the side of her neck. Rachel felt the sting of his fangs poised to bite into her flesh. She stretched her head to one side, surrendering to his bite. His teeth plunged in, and she warbled a high pitched cry at the exquisite pain.

The tiny punctures numbed in an instant. As Sletran pumped intoxicant into her veins, Rachel rocked her hips, moving faster and harder. Erotic euphoria filled her senses from the Nobek’s bite. Gorgeous sensation billowed through her body. She was getting close.

“So beautiful watching her with him.” Rachel heard Erybet’s voice from nearby.

She’d forgotten he and Conyod were right there, seeing her give herself to their clanmate. Looking at her while she fucked him. Being on display was every bit a thrill as being spanked, and Rachel felt her insides clenching as she closed in on the inevitable end. She jerked hard against Sletran, orgasm just a breath away.

Sletran released the bite and licked over the tiny wounds. His hands closed over her breasts and he squeezed. His breath was a hurricane in her ear. “Come, my beauty. Come now.”

Rachel’s pussy seized. White-hot climax exploded. Her insides heaved in tidal waves. An instant later Sletran cried out, his body stiffening behind her. Then he bucked, ramming his cock in and out twice before shoving harder. She felt the iron bar of him pulse hugely. He was coming, pumping her full of his seed. Her pussy flexed, drawing every drop of precious liquid from him. She sagged in the manacles, the last of energy drained from her body.

At last the big Kalquorian slumped behind her. His arms circled her body, and he kissed the back of her neck. “My mate,” he whispered.

Rachel closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his warmth against her back. All was right in her world.

“I’d better fetch some stim tabs.” Conyod sounded a little breathless himself. “Otherwise, you and I will have to take care of each other, my Dramok.”

“As much as that never fails to please me, I would prefer my Matara this first night of our clanship.”

Conyod chuckled as he left the room in a hurry. Rachel didn’t even raise her head as her wrists were unshackled. She floated in contentment from the combined effects of liquor, Kalquorian intoxicant, and sensational climax. Her whole body hummed with quiet pleasure.

“Open your mouth and let this dissolve on your tongue.”

Rachel didn’t bother to open her eyes to see what Conyod was giving her. Her lips parted and a small, flat strip was placed on her tongue. She’d never taken a stim tab before, so she had no idea what to expect.

There was a hint of tart sweetness, like an exotic fruit. It disappeared fairly quickly. Rachel was barely aware that she was no longer vertical. Not quite horizontal, either, though she felt a firm but giving surface beneath her back. More like her butt was draped over a hill with her head below it. Warm hands spread her legs apart. Fingers opened her pussy, stroked it gently. Curls of delight wove through her loins. Nice. So very nice…

Rachel’s heart began to beat faster. Energy suddenly coursed through her body, as if she’d been plugged into a socket. The sluggish pleasure brightened, and she was abruptly fully aroused once more. Her eyes flew open.

“Welcome back, my angel,” Erybet said. He knelt naked on top of the half-circle cushion, right between her wide open legs.

“Retig,” she mumbled. Wow, stim tabs were a lot more potent than coffee. She felt like she could run a marathon right now. Or spend the entire night fucking the gorgeous creature looking down on her, his cocks sticking straight out from his body.

Yes, fucking sounded like the better of the two options. But what the hell was Erybet wearing on his cocks?

Two joined rings were pushed up all the way to the bases of his penises. They were made of some flexible material that was colored dark brown and covered in small nubs. At the top, right above Erybet’s primary cock, was a square of more of the material with an indentation, like a little pocket.

From her experiences with Marcus, Rachel knew holding the base of the penis tight could inhibit ejaculation. So Erybet wearing the rings there made sense if he wanted to prolong their joining. But that top part of the thing … she couldn’t make sense of it.

Erybet grinned as he watched her puzzle over the strange object. “Ready for some new experiences, Ray-Ray?” he asked.

With her energy restored, Rachel was more than ready. She motioned with both hands. Bring it on.

Erybet seized her thighs, drawing her pussy and ass up to his groin. He entered her carefully, mindful she hadn’t had anything in her tighter orifice for a few hours. Still, he was slick with lubricant and she accepted him with ease. He was soon completely embedded in her.

The nubby surface of his double cock ring sent shivers of delight up her spine. Like the cushion she lay on, the thing was firm yet pliable too. It was a most fascinating sensation. Her still engorged clit fit just inside that little pocket area at the top. Well that was interesting.

Erybet’s eyes narrowed as he looked down on her. “Satacri. Misfot.”

The rings began to vibrate, massaging all the flesh surrounding her vagina and anus. That in itself would have been enough to galvanize her senses, but the little pocket holding her clit…

Rachel arched as a shout poured from her lungs. The sleeve was flexible and it molded around her clit, moving gently back and forth with gentle but direct pressure. It vibrated too, the pulses making her wild with rapture.

“My gift to you,” Erybet said, his eyes full of deviltry. “I’m glad you like it.”

His hips drew away from hers, pulling the cockring away from her delighted flesh. The clit mold-thingy gave up her nubbin reluctantly, pulling it until she was released from its sweetly tormenting grip. Rachel heaved in a breath. Damn, that thing was—

She didn’t get to finish the thought. Erybet pressed deep into her. Tiny vibrations pulsed against her flesh and the clit mold sucked her into its delightful clutch once more. It throbbed with delicate insistence.

Erybet fucked her with slow, deliberate thrusts, making her feel every nuanced pulse of the cockring’s vibrations. Rachel quaked beneath him, her body tumultuous with reaction. Perspiration sheened her body. Her moans were continuous, heightening to wild cries every time the clit mold laid hold of her sensitive button.

“Lovely,” Erybet grunted. “I like seeing you writhe beneath me.”

His belly undulated, as sinuous as a snake as he plunged in and out of her. Had she not been so crazed by pleasure, Rachel would have appreciated the graceful dance of the muscles in his abdomen. The Dramok’s beauty was supplanted by the gorgeous sensations racing through her lower body however.

“I think you are ready for more,” he said. “Cemed.”

The cockring’s vibrations increased. The clit mold’s pulling became more insistent. Pleasure bellowed through Rachel’s belly and she bellowed back. She reached desperately to push Erybet off her before she shattered.

He laughed and pulled her legs up so they draped over his shoulders. Rachel was forced to throw her hands back to brace against the floor. A part of her knew the Dramok wouldn’t let her fall, but instinct took over as her balance was knocked off kilter.

His groin pounded against her in quick, hard strokes. The clit mold had hold of her more often than not now, and she felt her insides coiling tight. Oh Jesus, Mohammed, and Moses, when she came she’d blast into a million pieces. Rachel actually feared the power of the oncoming climax. She strained to keep it from happening, convinced it might kill her. Too powerful. Too much.

Erybet ground out another word between clenched teeth. “Fihul.”

Incredibly, the cockring pulsated faster than before. The clit mold drew hard on Rachel’s little pink pearl. She lost the battle as searing orgasm blew through, decimating her. Exquisite rapture seized with a strength that hurt.

After an eternity the first paroxysm abated, followed by convulsions of ebbing strength. Little by little, Rachel became aware that Erybet had stilled and the cockring was silent.

“Amazing,” he said. “And well worth the hell I’m in right now.”

He pulled his still rigid cocks free of her. With a groan, he eased the double ring off his flesh. Then he moved Rachel so that the top of the cushion nestled in the hollow of her lower back. Erybet lay on top of her, slipping his cocks back into her warmth once more.

His mouth found hers. She opened for his stroking tongue, the rest of her body too loose-limbed in the wake of her orgasm to move. She felt fresh warmth nestle in her womb as Erybet plunged deep in her, rutting with almost desperate strength. When he groaned and his cock pulsed with release, she responded with small, blissful spasms.

Rachel sighed. Damn, these guys were good.

Erybet peppered her face with quick, happy kisses. She giggled at the adorable display of affection. At nearly seven feet tall, behemoth or not, her pretty boy was just too adorable when he was satisfied.

A thud next to her turned both their heads. Conyod smiled sweetly from a few inches away. He lay on his side, propping his jaw against his hand. “Hi,” he said, every bit as cute as their Dramok despite his more rugged features.

“Retig.” She grinned. Her lady parts were a bit tired and she knew she would be sore in the morning, but this was her wedding – or clanning – night. The stim tab was still doing its work, keeping her alert. Good thing, because tonight was due some wild shenanigans, she believed. She wouldn’t mind riding Kalquorian flesh until the sun came up.

“Do you need a pain inhibitor yet?” the Imdiko asked.

She shook her head and gave him a thumbs up. It was so sweet, so very Conyod of him to worry for her wellbeing when he no doubt was horny as hell.

“Our mate has stamina,” Erybet said, rising off her.

His cocks slid wetly from her, unleashing a flood of fluids. Rachel wrinkled her nose. A shower would definitely be in order soon, but it was kind of titillating to feel the evidence of Erybet and Sletran’s passion.

“Poor Imdiko,” Sletran said. He lay on his stomach on the sleeping mat, watching the three of them. “Waiting so long for a turn at our most delicious clanmate.”

Conyod’s smile deepened. “She’s worth waiting for. An entire eternity, but I’m happy it didn’t come to that.”

Rachel reached to caress his face. She was clanned to Conyod. Her first Kalquorian love. She rolled onto her side to move close enough to kiss him. As their lips met, he shifted so that their fronts met. His arm circled round her, holding her tight.

“You smell like my clanmates. And you smell of sex and passion. It makes me feel feral. Primitive with the urge to add my scent in a most bestial manner.”

His words made Rachel rub herself wantonly against him. She grabbed his cocks and stroked from base to tips. Conyod growled and rolled over on top of her, then lifted as if doing a pushup. With her hands still grasping him, he swung his hips back and forth, pumping his slick lengths into her fists. Rachel tightened her grip to make him groan. The veins in his cocks pulsed against her palms.

His usually gentle demeanor was dissolving in the purity of brutal need. Rachel’s hands worked him harder, faster, wanting to see the civilized Conyod fall into the animal she now saw lurking beneath the surface.

His entire body tensed, the muscles standing out. He wasn’t as streamlined as Erybet, not as bulky as Sletran. Conyod was the happy medium and perfect to her eyes. And that beastlike aspect that was taking over made him even more ideal. The flawless mix of gentleman and brute owned her heart and passion.

With a snarl, he grabbed her wrists. “Let go,” he grated, baring his fangs.

Rachel’s hands flew open like bird wings under that brutish stare. Conyod flipped her over on her stomach. His knees wedged her thighs apart. He maintained his hold on her wrists, gathering them in one strong hand and pinning them to the cushion’s surface.

His mouth latched on the back of her neck. She was surprised to feel his blunt teeth and not the fangs close over her nape. He had a good hold of her though, stopping the bite just shy of pain. He growled with force, and she felt the vibration in her skull as well as traveling down her spine until it hit her tailbone. Her hips jerked upwards.

Conyod took the invitation. His hand guided his cocks to her, thrusting deep before Rachel quite realized he was there. She choked on an interrupted breath as twin iron filled her passages. Her ass spread grudgingly for the larger cock. Shock more than the sudden ache made her yank her hips down in an instinctual effort to dislodge him. The Imdiko growled again and ground into her. There was no escape.

She mewled with the twist of helplessness and ardor. The big man was owning her, right here and now, his body beating mercilessly against hers, making her take him. Rachel kicked her feet as monstrous passion fed on her. Conyod didn’t let up for an instant, his flesh slapping meatily against hers as he took her hard and fast. His growls were continuous, sending wild shudders up and down her backbone. She thought her head might explode from the violent vibrations.

His hand squirmed beneath her hips, squirreling its way towards her pussy. Rachel gasped as he seized her clit, rubbing it hard. Her head strained back and mouth opened wide, but no sound left her straining jaw. She had no air with which to scream.

Climax crushed down on her. Its weight was heavier than that of the man pinning her down, a thunderous mass that rolled through her. Rachel’s entire body strained beneath that mighty force, her fingers flung into starfish, her legs stretching straight. Then it released her, leaving her limp as aftershocks poured through her.

Conyod was still pounding into her, his growls turned to grunts of effort. “Again,” he grated through his mouthful of her neck and rubbed her clit harder.

This time the orgasm was a bright, white-hot lightning strike, and Rachel did scream, her voice shattering loud. Conyod moaned, release his bite, jerked three more times and groaned. The cock in Rachel’s rear pulsed.

After the spasms passed, the Imdiko rolled off Rachel, going down the cushion to land face up on the floor at Erybet’s feet. The Dramok sat on the edge of the sleeping mat next to the still supine Sletran. He studied his gasping clanmate who splayed like an accident victim.

“Sletran, when was the last time Conyod was allowed to top?”

The Nobek shot his leader a dark glare. “To top me?”

Erybet rolled his eyes. He cocked an eyebrow at Rachel, who was still layered on the rounded top of the cushion catching her breath. “Just because the Imdiko is our gentler breed, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to dominate on occasion. His performance just now lets me know he’s not had the opportunity in a while. Conyod does not get that savage, usually.”

“Not with you two,” Conyod grouched. “I like keeping my hide, thanks.” He looked up at Rachel. “Did I hurt you, my love?”

She shook her head and grinned despite her entire body feeling like well-cooked spaghetti. Forming her words in his language she said, “Like Conyod do that. Fuck good.”

Sletran and Erybet laughed. Conyod grinned back at her, then turned his head to scowl at their Nobek. “Your next assignment is to teach her nicer euphemisms, like ‘make love’.”

“But it sounds so raw and primal when she says ‘fuck’.”

Conyod glared. Sletran snorted and rolled his eyes. Giving the Imdiko a long-suffering look, he said, “Fine. I’ll teach her to call your cocks her double prongs of happiness while I’m at it.”

“Bastard.”

“Now who has bad language?”

“Doesn’t count when it’s not Kalquorian, you big shit elbows.”

That got them all laughing. Shaking his head, Erybet rose and went to Rachel. He picked her up and carried her to the sleeping mat, laying her down and spooning behind her. Still snickering, Sletran helped Conyod up so they could both join their Matara and Dramok. Rachel snuggled into Conyod’s chest, with Sletran curling behind the Imdiko.

She’d thought she would spend the entire night making love to her new clan, but the stim tab was apparently wearing off. Her body was utterly relaxed, and her eyes were heavy. Sleeping in the arms that surrounded her seemed just as delicious an option right now. So she let herself drift, warm and … and safe. Yes. She did feel safe with the three men.

My clan, was her last happy thought before falling asleep.

Chapter12

Perhaps an hour after he’d drifted off, Sletran’s eyes opened.

He felt the warmth of his Imdiko against his chest and belly, a sensation comforting for its familiarity. He’d almost begun taking it for granted when he’d been sent out to war, then the loss of it had been an ache. Being curled around Conyod once more had been the only thing completely right since coming home. Still, pain remained, torment that not even returning to his clanmate had erased.

The smell of lovemaking was heavy in the air. It coated Sletran’s body, as well as Conyod’s. And he could scent Erybet too.

And her.

Sletran sat up, taking care to not disturb the others. He stared at Rachel, her face still discernable to his sharp eyes despite one cheek being pressed into the shadow of Conyod’s chest. She looked so sweet, so innocent in her sleep. As innocent as all the other women on New Bethlehem.

How he had wanted to help them! Those frightened, shrinking Earther Mataras, crying over their lost world and loved ones back on Earth. Cringing anytime he came near them. It was wrong for the lifebringers to suffer so, and it had been his shame to know that Kalquor, no matter how inadvertently, had been such an instrumental part of their pain.

I just wanted to help. To somehow make it better.

Then the insurgent attacks had started. No matter how much aid they’d offered, how many of the Earther children the Kalquorian peacemakers had fed and sheltered, how much medical assistance they’d offered, many of the Earthers had turned on them. Including the Mataras.

He thought back to that one terrible day, the sweating, trembling Matara that had approached, asking for food. Her whispered thanks as she went to the dining area. And then the explosion, the men screaming, the shattered bodies of the dead.

Sletran knew his work would never be finished as long as even one Earther Matara remained alive. He looked over the still-sleeping trio in his bed. How both Erybet and Conyod sandwiched Rachel between their bodies, their arms circling around her protectively, keeping her safe. For now, anyway.

Meanwhile there were others, women not sheltered by adoring Kalquorian men, women left vulnerable, easy to get to. Sletran’s eyes narrowed. His breath quickened. His lip wrinkled back, displaying his fangs.

In an instant, he was out of the bed and pulling on a formsuit. Silent as death, he left the room.

* * * *

Conyod woke. Rachel was burrowed against him, her warmth and smell a lovely reminder of how he was part of a full clan. His gaze flicked to Erybet’s face. The Dramok slept too, a gentle smile playing on his lips as if still basking in the earlier lovemaking.

However, the pressure Conyod was used to feeling at his back was missing. Taking his arm from around Rachel’s slight form, he reached back, groping for his Nobek. The sheets were still warm, and a slight indentation remained where Sletran had been when Conyod fell asleep. But his clanmate was gone.

Dread pulsed through Conyod’s heart. He rose from the sleeping mat, careful to not disturb Rachel and Erybet. Padding naked through the home, he searched every room and the balcony for Sletran. There was no sign of him anywhere.

The Imdiko went to the com in the greeting room and checked the bay where the clan kept their personal shuttles. Sletran’s was missing.

The Nobek was gone again, not cured in the least by having a Matara to keep him sane. Conyod swore to himself. He prayed he hadn’t made a mistake bringing Rachel into the clan. That wherever Sletran had gone, he was all right and wouldn’t leave her without her protector. Fear gnawed at his guts as he wondered where his Nobek was.

* * * *

Breft got the call at home before the sun had finished clearing the horizon. He spared just enough time to kiss his Matara Amelia and the sleepily blinking twins before heading to the Earther Matara complex.

He found Raxstad, Lidon, and forensics already at work in the middle of the courtyard, which was the central area of the compound. Formsuited local police officers, identifiable by their gray shock and blade proof vests, held the curious Mataras back, far enough away so they wouldn’t see what was going on. Compound security officers also abounded, though the majority of them were conferring with Global Security officers.

Breft let the police scan his credentials and hurried past them once he’d received clearance. He passed by the banks of flowerbeds, firepits from which the sweet aroma of lit scentwood wafted, bubbling pools, and massage beds. Had he not been so intent on the latest activity of the Beast of New Bethlehem, he would have been glad to see how well Kalquor was treating the Earther women. By the ancestors, they certainly deserved it after all they’d been through.

He joined Raxstad and Lidon. Before he could ask, Raxstad gave him a grimace. “The privacy scene shielding we brought isn’t operating. And the localized force had five other calls at the same time, so they didn’t bring one. I sent someone to headquarters to get a mechanism that works.”

“Good.” Breft blinked at the dozens of small, slender objects arranged in a round starburst pattern in the center of the black marble tiles flooring this part of the courtyard. At their center was another sheaf with the now too-familiar writing awaiting him to read.

For now, he was busy puzzling over the whitish-gray and brownish-gray objects making up the starburst design. After a moment he realized what he was looking at, and his heart slammed hard against the wall of his chest. His lips curled back.

“Fingers?”

Raxstad nodded grimly. “Nearly a hundred. Small, like those of Earther females. Analysis will have to confirm that, though.”

Breft looked up at the women being kept at the periphery of the crime scene. Their eyes were wide, and they whispered excitedly to one another. “Tell me none of the Mataras saw this.”

Lidon said, “The staff found it, thank the Mother of All. They kept the Mataras away.”

Breft swallowed, took a step forward to study the macabre arrangement better. “Clean cuts through the bone and muscle with ragged edges on some of the skin. It’s as if they were taken off the hands in a hurry. Some look burnt.”

Raxstad said, “I think the note explains it.”

Breft tore his gaze from the tiny bits of flesh to read his antagonist’s latest missive.

Here are the trophies of the first to fall, my initial blow on New Bethlehem. These were not the ‘innocents’ everyone would have us believe, their deaths not a slaughter but justice. They point in accusation at the other daughters of betrayer Eve who would lay us low.

In clear writing, Breft had before him a direct reference to the Slaughter of Innocents. Breft thought of Erybet and Sletran with their clan the night before, celebrating a new Matara. Drinking. Laughing. And, for one of them, perhaps plotting this horrific display?

Speaking past the bile rising in his throat, Breft seized on the most curious mention of the note. “Eve?”

Lidon answered that one. “According to the Earther’s mythology, the first woman. She betrayed their god, leading man to be cast out of Paradise. All Earther Mataras would be the daughters of Eve.”

Breft raised an eyebrow at him.

Lidon shrugged. “My Matara was quite traumatized by the differences between her beliefs and ours. I have begun studying her religion to better understand her faith, which still means much to her.”

Breft nodded. He looked around the complex, taking in the apartment windows that looked out over the courtyard from as high as ten levels up. At regular intervals on the ground floor were the vid recording devices he’d noted from previous visits, along with two sentry stations. How had the bastard gotten in and out undetected?

“Wasn’t security doubled here? How is he getting in and moving around so easily? Have you checked the employment records?”

Raxstad bristled. “Of course. I also took it upon myself to forward the worker list to Emperor Bevau. He confirms no one who works here was at New Bethlehem.”

Lidon frowned. “That doesn’t mean the killer isn’t coming onto the grounds and posing as a member of support staff. There are over 1700 Imdikos, Dramoks, and Nobeks on the roster, with more coming on board every month as more Mataras enter the lottery.”

Breft scowled. “Then it’s common to see unfamiliar faces around here.”

“Identification checks haven’t yielded results either,” Raxstad added. “He may have forged his own set. We already know he’s got the technical know-how to pull something like that off.”

Breft eyed the monitoring devices again. “Which brings me to my next question. What about the security systems? Same interruption in service as before?”

“That’s right. He’s using random fluctuating frequencies to cause interference.”

“The devices that do such things are too big to be portable.”

Lidon’s eyes narrowed. “Known devices. This man is smart, sir. Genius turned to evil is a monstrous foe.”

Raxstad sighed. “He moved really fast during his visit a couple of hours before dawn, when vid monitoring began to fail. He got in here, set this up, and got clear too quickly for security to get a fix on him. The sentries were so busy trying to restore the vid surveillance, they missed him doing this.”

Breft raked his fingers through his shoulder-length hair. “Damn! The only thing going for us is he’s getting cocky. If the sentries had just glanced into the courtyard, they’d have seen something.”

“At least there were no new deaths this time,” Raxstad offered weakly.

Lidon nodded. “‘We must accept small favors as great things when the sky goes dark.’”

Breft snorted. “To beg the Book of Life’s pardon, one less dead Matara is a big favor.”

Lidon managed a semblance of a smile, a huge undertaking given the grisly body parts at his feet. “I will not argue with that.”

The elder Nobek’s handheld beeped and he checked it. His eyes widened, an extreme reaction given how much self control Lidon usually exhibited. “You’ll find this interesting, sir.”

“What have you got?”

“Forensics has delivered analysis on the victim we found on the beach. They came up with a positive species I.D. on the animal hair found on the body.” He looked at Breft, his frown deep. “It came from a kestarsh.”

* * * *

Conyod walked down the halls of the psychiatric wing with Rachel at his side. She was looking around with a bemused expression, almost as if she hadn’t spent a year of her life in its environs.

“What is it?” he asked.

She stopped walking and he too paused, waiting patiently as she typed on her handheld. It’s weird to be back here and not as a full-time patient. It’s only been a few days since I left, but it seems like almost a lifetime ago. I was thinking that it must mean I’m where I should be, with your clan.

Conyod smiled. “But you’re all right being here for a short visit, aren’t you?”

Rachel nodded. I like being anywhere you are. She pulled a face and added, Excuse the sickeningly sweet sentiment.

That made him chuckle. “I like the emotion, no matter how saccharine you think it is.”

They continued on until they reached Govi’s office. The door was open and Conyod stuck his head in.

Govi looked up from his computer vid. “Yes? Oh, hello, doctor.”

Conyod ushered Rachel in ahead of him. “We’re reporting for our appointment.”

Govi smiled and rose from his seat. “It’s good to see you again, Matara. You look wonderful.”

She answered him in Kalquorian. “Thank you, Dr. Govi.”

“Not too strange to be back is it?”

Rachel waved her downward facing palm in the air, indicating it was a little odd. Conyod’s superior nodded, unsurprised. “Well, it’s only for a visit. How are you doing out there in the wide world?” He ushered her into a seat and indicated Conyod should sit beside her before taking his own chair.

Rachel looked at Conyod, and his heart stuttered a little to see the warmth in her eyes. She really loved him. Her gaze, so full of devotion, made him vow anew to see her happy for all her life.

She turned back to Govi. “We good. We clan. Happy.”

Govi’s eyes widened and he also looked at Conyod. It was impossible to tell exactly how the head psychologist felt about the situation.

Govi smiled at Rachel. “Congratulations. I am so glad you’ve found a clan you’re happy to be with. Your Kalquorian is coming along quite well too.”

Rachel nodded. “Sletran teach. Much patient.”

Govi raised an eyebrow and his smile grew. “I admit I had my concerns what with Dr. Conyod being your primary psychologist, but you look so content. Both of you.”

Conyod started to relax now that Govi seemed to be all right with the turn of events. His supervisor turned to him. “Have you noted any adjustment concerns? It can be difficult to go from the safety and routine of the hospital’s familiar surroundings to total freedom outside.”

Conyod said, “If she’s had any, she’s hiding them quite well. I’ve detected no anxiety. She’s shown no signs of being overwhelmed.”

Rachel typed on her handheld and handed it to Govi with a wink. He read her message and laughingly handed it to Conyod to read.

I’m great, Dr. Govi. I’m a tough old gal.

Snorting with amusement, Govi answered, “I’m not sure about the old part, but you are an amazing survivor. I wish half my patients had your strength and will. Why don’t you stop back in after your regular therapy session with Dr. Donib next month? I want to stay informed on how you’re continuing to improve. And of course if you need to come in sooner, don’t hesitate.”

She nodded her affirmation.

Conyod took her hand and said, “Ray-Ray, do you mind if I speak to Dr. Govi in Kalquorian? It’s a somewhat private matter. Not that I don’t trust you with confidential matters—”

She waved him off with a shake of her head. She typed, Don’t worry about offending me. Your work with other patients is none of my business.

“Thank you, my Matara.” By the ancestors, he loved calling her that. He addressed Govi. “Doctor, if you have an extra moment?”

“Absolutely.”

Conyod took a breath. “I have some new concerns about my Nobek.”

Govi’s expression remained open and friendly, no doubt for Rachel’s benefit, but Conyod saw how his eyes narrowed slightly. “Is he still showing signs of post-traumatic stress?”

“He’s doing a little better. Being my mate’s Nobek is giving him renewed purpose.”

“Nobeks need a higher purpose. Being on leave has cut him adrift. I’m glad to hear he’s doing better.”

Conyod bit his lower lip. “He’s still struggling in some respects. He disappears from home, and when he returns he has no idea where he’s been.”

Govi frowned, remembered Rachel was there, and made his expression smooth. She took no notice, absorbed in studying Kalquorian vocabulary on her handheld.

To Conyod he said, “That’s not good. I guess he’s still under that gag order you told me about?”

Conyod chose his words carefully. He couldn’t admit Erybet had told him everything, not when it could get him court-martialed. “He is, though I have learned a little. Enough to know what he went through was horrific. The secrecy is part of the problem, I think, but it doesn’t look like the military is going to lift it any time soon. Do you have any idea how I might help him through this?”

Govi pursed his lips, tapping his jaw with his fingertips as he considered. “If he’s responding positively to helping your newest clanmate, I would build on that. Give him back his sense of self-worth, and that could go a long way towards healing a few of those wounds. Has he returned to his volunteer work?”

“Not yet, though he’s looking into it. The Imdiko self-defense classes were only once a week anyway.”

“It’s a start, though. I’m sure there are many other outlets for Sle—for your clanmate’s abilities. There are at-risk Nobek shelters which could use his help.” Govi’s eyes widened with sudden inspiration. “Conyod, we’re still hiring security here at the hospital, especially in the wake of the recent abductions. For that matter, the Earther Matara complex is also beefing up their security force. He could possibly get temporary employment that way.”

Conyod felt a burst of excitement. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Govi looked pleased. “Get Sletran on a routine again, one filled with meaningful work. Even healthy Nobeks can’t cope with too much idle time. It’s completely against their nature.”

“You’re right. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.” Conyod shook his head at himself.

Govi gave him a kind look. “You’re too close to the problem. It’s hard to think dispassionately when it’s a clanmate you care about.” His brows creased together. “You know, I think you should take some time off, Conyod. You have a new Matara to celebrate and a Nobek who needs you near. You’ve put in more hours than you should the last few months, though I think the reason for that is a little closer to home now?” He gave Rachel a meaningful glance.

Conyod gaped at him. Time off? It would be good, but the workload on the department was tremendous. “But my patients—”

Govi interrupted him. “Assign your current cases to the other members of the team, including myself, for the next week. Depending on how your Nobek does, we’ll see if you need more time. We’ll handle it, Conyod.”

The younger Imdiko was stunned and humbled by his supervisor’s compassion, especially since Govi didn’t know the full story of just how traumatized Sletran was. He swallowed. “Thank you, Dr. Govi. I really appreciate it, especially since I know how much everyone here already has on their plate.”

Govi sighed and grinned at him. “There is always so much work to be done, but sometimes clan comes first. We can’t forget those who need us most.” His smile faded and he tried to look stern, a look he didn’t do very well. “Our broken Mataras need us at our best. If you’re worrying over the situation at home, you can’t give them your best, no matter how hard you try.”

Conyod nodded. He rose, which got Rachel’s attention. “We’re done,” he told her.

She stood and addressed Govi, who had also gotten to his feet. “Thank you for all you’ve done to help me. Thank you for letting me be with my clan.”

She’d asked Conyod to teach her those phrases on their way in that morning since Sletran had been sleeping when they’d left. Conyod had told Erybet privately about Sletran’s late night disappearance. The Imdiko tried not to think about frightened Erybet had looked when he’d learned their Nobek had secretly left their quarters.

He made himself pay attention to the here and now as Govi responded to Rachel’s gratitude with feeling. “You are very welcome, Ray-Ray.”

He showed them to the door. Rachel took Conyod’s hand as they walked out, and he smiled, refusing to let his Nobek’s night journey worry him anymore. Not when he had some hope. Govi was right, of course. Sletran needed more structure, more duties. And some private consultation when the opportunity presented itself for the two of them to talk.

* * * *

After her therapy session with the very capable Dr. Donib, Rachel spent time flipping through still pictures on the large wall vid in Conyod’s office. She was scrolling through points of interest on Kalquor. Meanwhile Conyod worked at his computer to assign his cases to co-workers for the upcoming week. They were both so engrossed in their activities that neither noticed Erybet and Sletran’s entrance until the Dramok said, “Hello, clanmates. We’re here.”

Conyod jerked and Rachel gasped. Chuckling at their surprise, the two men moved to embrace Rachel and peered at what she was viewing.

Sletran’s brows rose. “The undersea ruins of the first Kalquorian city. Does archeology interest you?”

Rachel shrugged and tapped on her handheld. Her message appeared over the coral-dotted walls of what had once been some sort of power station tens of thousands of years ago. I’m curious about my new home now that I’m not stuck in here. I’d like to visit all over the planet, if it’s possible.

Erybet looked delighted at her interest. “Of course. There are many places to see. Tell us where you’d like to go first, and we’ll arrange it.”

Rachel grinned. Let me think about it. In the near future, I wouldn’t mind going back and riding the kestarsh soon. And riding any other beasts I might find there.

Sletran snorted and shook his head with a broad smile at her brazen flirting. Erybet and Conyod returned her lascivious grin.

The Imdiko said, “Easily done.” He told Erybet and Sletran, “Govi has given me the next week off, more if I need it. I think he means it as a clanning present.”

“How very kind of him. Then we must go while you have the break.” Erybet looked more pleased than ever.

“I’m re-assigning my patients to the rest of the team. It will take me a little while to get everything in order.” He stared into Erybet’s eyes. “You should take Ray-Ray shopping. She needs to start thinking about decorating her rooms. Sletran and I will catch up in a little while.”

The other two men exchanged a look and nodded. It was an opportunity for Conyod and Sletran to discuss the Nobek’s problems in private.

Erybet turned to their mate. “That’s fine with me. Rachel?”

She gave Conyod an evaluating look, obviously knowing something was up, something she was being kept out of. To her credit, she seemed to trust them. She nodded her agreement.

Conyod winked at her, thanking her for her understanding. “Have fun.”

Erybet sighed. “We’ll be shopping. How can we not have fun?” He rolled his eyes.

Rachel laughed and typed, Typical man. At least I don’t have a purse for you to hold.

“What is a purse?”

Rachel shook her head. She kissed Conyod and Sletran goodbye.

“No makeup or perfume,” the Nobek called after her as she walked out of the office. She stuck her tongue out at him and took Erybet’s hand.

Conyod settled back on his seating cushion. Sletran sat across from him. The Nobek looked him steadily in the eye. “I suppose you want the whole sordid tale.”

His tone was light, but Conyod heard the tension underlying the fake casualness. “Let’s start by talking about where you went last night.”

Sletran blinked. “Last night? I – I was home. Wasn’t I? Erybet didn’t say anything.”

“That’s because I asked him to let me discuss it with you.”

Sletran sagged, his expression dejected. “No wonder I slept so late.”

“I woke up to find you missing. You’d taken your shuttle. You don’t remember anything about leaving?”

“No.” He looked at the Imdiko through the veil of his hair. Then he sat up straight, shaking the short strands back. His tone determined, he said, “I will not fail her, Conyod.”

Conyod bit his lip. “I know you won’t, not willingly anyway. Tell me about New Bethlehem. Tell me about the massacre.”

Sletran winced and closed his eyes. “I swear to you, I verified everything the way I was supposed to. Everything was go. I gave the order. Then…”

He stopped, shuddering. Conyod got up and came around the table separating them, settling back down next to his clanmate. He gripped the Nobek’s shoulder. “Tell me. Let me help you.”

Sletran drew in a breath and released it, visibly fighting to keep calm. He swallowed. In a low voice he said, “We could see the movement of people inside the target building. Shutter fields over the windows were activated so we couldn’t see who was inside, but all our intelligence confirmed it was insurgents.”

“You had no reason to believe otherwise?”

Sletran rubbed his forehead. “High command had been careful given the number of innocent colonists in the area. You see, New Bethlehem was supposed to be a peaceful farming colony. It was only towards the end of the war we discovered a secret military base had been placed there by Earth’s forces.”

When he faltered, Conyod pressed him. “My understanding was that they surrendered after Armageddon. After Earth fell.”

Sletran nodded. “The commander at the base did. And there were a few weeks of peace. A few companies were sent in to dismantle the military base and make sure no weapons of mass destruction remained. Peacemakers showed up to make sure the colony had all the supplies they needed since nothing would be coming from Earth anymore.”

“So what went wrong?”

“Some of the Earther soldiers didn’t want to give up the fight, even though their world was as good as dead. They wanted revenge for their losses. The attacks were sporadic at first, then they got worse. The rebels got better organized and turned to guerilla fighting measures. They went after the other Earthers, the colonists. People who came to us for help were attacked, sometimes killed for being sympathizers.”

Conyod shook his head. He couldn’t imagine that kind of rage.

“We were turning the tide, though. We’d captured or killed all but the core group, a group of highly trained military specialists. And we finally found out where their headquarters was located. Intelligence relayed to high command reported comings and goings from a community center on the edge of one farming collective.”

“So you were sent in.”

Sletran nodded. “It was a couple hours after dark. My group was given the privilege of ending the nightmare, once and for all.”

His gaze was far away, reliving the hell he’d been through. Conyod prodded him once more. “So you see evidence of plenty of people in that building, just as you expected. Everything as far as you know is verified. You tell the group to ignite the explosives they set.”

Sletran looked at him, pain flooding his eyes. “Right after I gave the order, one of the shutter shields was turned off. Standing in the window was a child. A little Earther boy, perhaps no older than five. Such a beautiful little creature with big, brown eyes peering out into the dark.”

“By the ancestors,” Conyod whispered.

The Nobek’s voice trembled. “He’d turned off the shutter to look outside, I guess. I lost maybe half a second, just staring at him in shock. There were only supposed to be grown men in there, trained soldiers who’d turned on their own. But instead, I’m looking at a child. A child whose life is about to end because I’ve given the order to detonate the building. Then a woman, perhaps his mother, rushed up to the window. She seemed to be chastising him for switching off the shutter.”

Conyod realized he was squeezing Sletran’s shoulder hard. He made himself ease up. “You tried to stop the assault.”

The Nobek’s tormented gaze met his. “I screamed at my men, Conyod. ‘Abort mission. Civilians in danger. Mataras and children inside. Abort mission.’ I was on my com in an instant, trying to stop the second team from detonating their end of the explosives. But there was interference. They never received the order.”

Conyod’s training failed him in that moment. Nothing came to mind except to repeat, “You tried, Sletran.”

“My men had to hold me back because I wanted to run at the building, as if my being there would stop it from happening. I keep thinking how much better it would have been if they’d let me go. If I’d died with the ones I killed.”

Conyod’s voice was breaking with the agony he felt for Sletran, for the little brown-eyed boy Sletran had seen, for all the women and children caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. “You didn’t kill them, Sletran. It was a terrible mistake, one you did your best to keep from happening.”

Sletran’s gaze was far away again. “All those body parts. There were less than thirty people in there, and a half a dozen survived the blast, including the child I saw. But there were so many pieces, it looked as if hundreds had been slain.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen people die. I’ve killed my enemies with my bare hands when needed. But I’ve never seen anything so horrible as what I saw that night.”

Conyod squeezed his shoulder gently. “You’ve always been dedicated to protecting the weak. The guilt that you couldn’t this time is what is hurting you.”

Sletran’s voice turned angry. “I’ve always stood between the helpless and danger. And everyone still thinks that’s who I am.”

“You are that man, Sletran. That hasn’t changed.”

Sletran shook his head. “I’m not that Nobek anymore. People believing that of me is a joke. I’m a lie.”

Conyod grabbed his jaw and made him face him. “Not if you take up the challenge again. Listen to me, my Nobek. Your life has been made up of good works. A lifetime of good works cannot be undone by one mistake that wasn’t even your fault.”

Sletran looked at him wonderingly. “You believe in me. Even after knowing what I’ve done.”

Conyod choked out a humorless laugh. “Of course I believe in you, my Nobek. I know your heart. You are not a monster.”

Sletran reached up and grabbed Conyod’s hand, holding onto him tightly. “Do you really think I can redeem myself for what happened on New Bethlehem?”

The Imdiko poured all the faith he possessed into his voice. “I do. I’ll be here to help you do so, too.”

Sletran stared, searching his face for something. Apparently he found whatever he was looking for, because he finally nodded. Some of the agony dissipated. “Then for you, for Rachel, for Erybet, I’ll try.”

It was a start, and Sletran seemed so much more at ease now that he was sure Conyod wasn’t about to turn his back on him. The Imdiko was still concerned about the Nobek’s missing time, but he hoped to soon resolve the issue. He had an idea.

Chapter 13

Rachel and Erybet left a furniture shop in the underground market area. Rachel was scowling, and Erybet sighed. His hand closed on her wrist and he stopped her only a few feet from the store.

“My Matara, you must understand. Your clan provides for you. This stubborn pride is only going to make us all unhappy if you persist in it.”

She only frowned all the harder. The argument had begun when she’d seen the expensive items the Dramok had wanted her to buy for her private rooms. The fact she’d have more than one room for her personal use at the home, one that was a kind of sitting room and another for her to resume her music studies and practice, was simply too much. She couldn’t stomach the clan spending that kind of money on her, especially when no one knew if she’d prove any good at playing an instrument after all this time. It was ridiculous, and she quickly typed a message to that effect.

Erybet pursed his lips, and she saw a spark of temper in his eyes. “I realize you have gone without in the past due to a lack of funds. I understand that such things are luxuries to you. But for me, as your Dramok, your happiness and wellbeing are non-negotiable items. Your clan has the means to make sure you have what you need, or else we wouldn’t have been placed in the lottery.”

Rachel stamped her foot in frustration. But I don’t NEED a music room!

“You need an outlet for your talents and interests, just as the rest of us do. I have an art studio. Conyod has stables and kestarsh. Sletran has space for his martial arts practice. Whether you think you’ll be able to play again or not, you have to explore the possibility. Even if you have no talent, which I highly doubt, if it brings you pleasure then the pursuit is worthwhile.”

Rachel appreciated his attitude, but she still felt she was taking advantage of the clan. She wished she had some skill that would profit them, some ability to pay her own way. She’d been a charity case long enough.

Erybet pulled her to a curved bench in the middle of the square and made her sit down. He settled next to her and regarded her with steady purple eyes. “You are so proud, my beauty. You are a strong woman, and I love that about you. It would be easy for you to feel life owes you an easy time after the torment you’ve suffered.”

Rachel shrugged. She’d seen some Earther Mataras with that attitude. It wasn’t one she subscribed to.

Erybet pushed his hair back from his face. “Do you know what it’s like to be able to care for you? To make your life good so you can pursue your lost dream of playing music?” He smiled. “It’s what I was made for, Ray-Ray.”

She made a face and shook her head. Erybet was not put on Earth – oops, Kalquor – to make her happy. That was her responsibility.

“How can I make you understand how much it means to me to help you realize your full potential?” His gaze bore into her. “There were so many people I couldn’t help during the war, Ray-Ray. I wanted to, but there were just too many. Most didn’t want my help.” His head dipped down and he studied his hands. “Now I have a Nobek who suffers from the war, and I can’t do much to help him either.”

Rachel typed quickly. I’m sure that’s not how he feels.

“He needs much that I can’t provide. And it makes me feel as if I’ve failed him.” Erybet looked up, his eyes peering from behind the strands of long black hair that had fallen forward. “I can be the Dramok I need to be with you. I can provide the means for you to be everything you ever dreamed. To give you the opportunity to fulfill whatever destiny life has set for you.”

But it’s too much. I don’t deserve that kind of generosity.

Erybet blinked when he read her handheld. He gave it back to her. “Rachel, read what you just wrote. Read it as if your closest friend said this to you.”

Rachel huffed. What was he trying to prove? She knew exactly what she’d said.

The Dramok’s gaze never wavered. “Do it.”

Rachel re-read it, just to shut him up. She frowned.

“You see it, don’t you? Who told you, you aren’t deserving?”

That was easy enough to answer. Plenty of people had told her that very thing. A government who didn’t see fit to make sure her father’s workplace met health requirements, dooming him to die much too soon. A mother who was too lost in grief to take care of her young daughter, instead becoming the dependent herself. A society that didn’t care why she hadn’t been able to finish basic schooling, just that she hadn’t.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on Rachel’s head. The words had never been spoken to her, but the message had been received just the same.

Drops splashed on her hands clenched in her lap. For a moment Rachel thought it was somehow raining in the underground marketplace. Then she realized the drops were tears. Her tears.

She knuckled them away almost angrily. She was tougher than this. But the tears continued to leak from her traitorous eyes, and she couldn’t make them stop.

Erybet pulled her close, cradling her head to press it to his chest. His lips pressed the top of her head. “I’m sorry if I made you cry. Seeing those words coming from you was bad enough, but to cause you to weep rips at me, my Matara. All I want is to make you happy. I want you to realize you deserve to be that way.”

Rachel gulped an almost silent sob. Her fingers trembling, she typed, I thought Conyod was the therapist of this bunch.

Erybet chuckled when she showed him. “Maybe our Imdiko’s good sense is rubbing off on me. Don’t tell him; he’d never let me hear the end of it.” He leaned back and gently rubbed the wetness from her cheeks. “Do you care about my happiness, Ray-Ray?”

Her brow wrinkled. Of course I do.

“Then accept the damned furniture, because taking care of my very deserving Matara makes me happy.”

Rachel blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Eryi.” She strained upward and he obliged her with a gentle kiss.

“Thank you.”

She burrowed against his side, enjoying his warmth, his solidity. Just when she thought she was getting a handle on her imprisonment and torture, other issues reared their ugly heads. Like Conyod, Erybet kept her safe while her strength faltered. And instead of thinking less of her for it, he appreciated being her support. She could feel it in the way he held her, in the way his cheek rubbed back and forth over her head. She heard it in his contented sigh.

Rachel couldn’t help but smile. If she had to crumble into a weeping mess, having this man – any of her three men – to pick up the pieces was a fine thing, indeed.

They sat that way for a while, Erybet’s arms wrapped around her, hers around him, his cheek pressed against the top of her head. The Dramok didn’t seem to care they were in public. Other unattached Kalquorians looked at them with undisguised envy as they passed by.

Finally Erybet murmured, “Ready to move on?”

“Eryi.”

He helped her to her feet, and they walked hand in hand from the more central part of the market to the outlying eating and club area.

It was still rather early for the midday meal, and the dining places and clubs were quiet for the most part. One building they passed seemed to be doing steady business, however. The small, unmarked round structure, tucked between two clubs and set back from the square, had plenty of Kalquorian foot traffic. Rachel slowed. When Erybet looked at her questioningly, she nodded towards the unobtrusive building.

“That place? Oh. It’s a pleasure club.”

His grin looked a little embarrassed. Curious, Rachel cocked her head questioningly, asking for more of an explanation.

Erybet shook his head at her inquisitiveness. “Well, you can go in and watch others or let them watch you.”

Rachel gave him wide eyes.

“Yes, having sex.”

Rachel swallowed. She thought about how the men had watched her have sex with each of them the night before, like spectators at a sport. How exciting it had been to be on display for their enjoyment. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only person who enjoyed such a strange quirk.

She wondered what kind of sex the Kalquorians were having in the club. She wondered if she would like watching as much as she liked being watched. She arched an eyebrow at Erybet.

He choked on his own spit. After a couple of coughs, he recovered and said, “I’m not so sure you’d enjoy it, Ray-Ray. It’s almost always men with men since we have so few women. And the encounters that happen in there are somewhat … extreme.”

Rachel considered. She’d seen Erybet and Conyod kiss passionately and that had been pretty arousing. But what did Erybet mean by extreme encounters?

She asked, So they do stuff like spankings?

“And harsher. It’s all consensual, but given how repressed Earth was, you might become upset over what goes on in such places.”

He might be right, but curiosity was killing Rachel. She really wanted to see what was going on in the pleasure club. The thought of naked Kalquorians doing things with each other, things she never even imagined, had her guts warming in excitement. What would the harm be?

“Krewet?” She tugged at Erybet’s hand and noticed he was just starting to bulge at the crotch.

He looked her over closely. She caught the slight scent of cinnamon coming from him. He did want to take her in there. She had the idea he’d been in a pleasure club more than a few times himself. Had he only watched before or actually participated? Now there was an exciting thought, visualizing Erybet’s gorgeous body on display.

Erybet’s words came slowly, as if he wasn’t sure he should do this. “All right. I’ll take you in to have a look. But the instant it’s too much, let me know. And stay close. I don’t want any other men thinking you’re looking to play with them.”

Rachel’s heart sped up in anticipation. She nodded and they walked up to the club. Erybet opened the door and paused to look into the blackness within. Strange sounds, like movie whip cracks and heavy thuds, came out of the unfathomable space. Moans and cries, howls and laughter issued forth, mixing agony and gratification.

Apparently satisfied, Erybet tugged her forward. He pulled her close to his side. She entered the interior’s darkness, feeling safe in the curl of his arm.

Coolness hit Rachel’s exposed arms and legs as Erybet escorted her into the pleasure club. They walked down a dark hallway, and she relied on her Dramok’s superior sight to guide her. Further down she could see some illumination, a square of dim light.

Halfway to the end, she walked into a wall of Kalquorian arousal scent. The spicy aroma of many men, hungry with lust, sent her senses reeling. Knowing that smell and what it signified had the crotch of her panties wet in an instant. Like Pavlov’s dog, except it’s my pussy salivating, she thought. She bit her lips closed to quell the amusement at herself. What a horny broad she was, she decided.

The sounds of immense pleasure and pain grew louder. There was a humming crackle Rachel knew from her stay in prison. A shockwhip was being used. Her excitement was quelled a little by that knowledge. Who the hell got off by being shockwhipped? Those instruments were pure torture, sending fierce electrical signals through the body as well as flaying flesh wide open. Half a dozen strikes could kill a person.

Her mouth dry, steps slowing, Rachel counted off the strikes, each one followed by shrieks that could have peeled paint off walls. One … two … three … four. A single word of Kalquorian, one Rachel didn’t know, was screamed. The whip strikes stopped. A smattering of applause came from the room ahead.

Erybet’s voice whispered in her ear. “As I said, the Nobeks can go in for some really excessive activities.”

Rachel shuddered. She wasn’t so sure she was going to like this after all. They reached the doorway, and she peered in.

She and Erybet stood on a type of balcony, at the top of a ramp that led down to the room’s floor. The floor was a forest of muscular male Kalquorian bodies, standing and watching the windows that lined the circling wall.

The main floor was lit by the rooms behind those huge windows. Rachel could see people moving in the spaces, but with men crowded close to the windows, it was hard to make out exactly what was going on. It was from those rooms that all the sounds came from. The watching audience barely made a sound.

“Let’s see if any of the playrooms are putting on a good show you’d like to see,” Erybet said. He guided her down the ramp into the midst of the onlookers.

The men who surrounded them looked hungrily at Rachel she walked by, but they made room, almost cringing as if afraid to touch her. She was glad they were so determined to keep their hands to themselves, because Erybet had no hope of fighting off so many. Apparently, respect for a clanned female in the company of her Dramok was blessedly great.

They were allowed to the front by the parting tide of Kalquorian bodies, and Rachel blinked at the bright light spilling from the playroom in front of her. She gaped at the view in front of her.

On the other side of the glass, a sleek Kalquorian male about the size of Conyod was tied with black cords in a complicated pattern all over his otherwise nude body. His wrists had been secured to his ankles, forcing him to balance on wide-set legs and the top of his head, making his body an inverted ‘v’ shape. A heavily-muscled man stood behind him, plunging his larger cock in and out of the tied man’s ass. At the same time, he swung his right arm from side to side, splashing multiple knotted lengths of what looked like leather against the tied man’s back. Snick-snick-snick-snick sounded with each strike. Angry red welts rose across the expanse of the guy getting beaten and fucked … and jerked off. The muscle man’s left hand worked the tied-up guy’s livid erections, bringing choked cries of growing ecstasy between the surprisingly few cries of pain.

Erybet’s voice in her ear interrupted the mesmerizing sounds. “Are you all right with this?”

Rachel was dimly aware of her mouth hanging open. Boy, was she ever all right with it. Cream slid down her thighs, as her soaked panties could no longer absorb the tide flowing from her incredibly aroused core. She couldn’t believe she was getting turned on by the display, but there was no doubting her reaction, either. She had a vision of herself in the tied man’s place, with Erybet administering the pleasurable punishment. Something deep inside clenched and she bit back a moan.

The dominant male growled something to his partner. Despite the pane of glass or whatever it was separating the main observation room from the playroom, Rachel heard everything going on perfectly well, including the moist squelching sounds of slippery cock working ass.

Whatever the dominant had said made the other man shudder. His groans grew louder. The muscular man grunted, pounding harder against the wide-open buttocks, nearly knocking the submitting male off his feet. Somehow he kept his balance.

The one on top whipped the bottom’s primary cock with quick, hard strokes. The knotted leather strips fell faster until they blurred against the submissive’s back. His mouth fell wide open. He cried out. Then he screamed. Thick, white ropes of ejaculate burst from his cock, coating his belly and chest.

The dominant dropped his cords, which Rachel could see were all bound at the bottom to a handle. He grabbed the other man’s hips with both hands, yanking his partner back and forth onto his dick. He shuddered and groaned. He pulled out and erupted on the other man’s ass.

Rachel’s knees were wobbling as other onlookers broke into applause. It took her a moment to realize her hands were slapping together too. It had been a hell of a performance.

She took her handheld off her belt and wrote a quick question to Erybet. Are they all customers in the rooms, or are the performances put on by the club itself?

“The club hires people to play with paying customers. But a lot of what you see takes place between friends and lovers. That Dramok and Imdiko are probably clanned to each other. They’re relatively young, so they may be using such displays to interest Nobeks.”

The muscled dominant was now carefully untying the smaller man, occasionally rubbing with gentle hands the lash marks he’d left on his skin. The Imdiko smiled almost sleepily up at him, looking as content as a cat in a sunbeam.

Many of the onlookers were moving along to other windows where no doubt more vignettes were playing out. Erybet asked, “Do you want to see more?”

Rachel nodded and they stepped towards the next window. As they neared, Rachel heard the constant peal of screams issuing from that playroom. There was an instant of seeing bright splashes of blood against the glass and walls before she turned away, looking up at Erybet with horror.

He nodded and pulled her to the next playroom display. “A group of Nobeks. They play hard with each other. Don’t worry, Ray-Ray, nothing life-threatening is allowed and there are medics standing by at all times. Let’s keep moving.”

All the warm tinglies from the first window had evaporated with that brief glimpse into the second. She forgot about it as they drew close to a trio of three Earther females who were before the third window watching wide-eyed and giggling. The Kalquorians were giving the women a wide berth, but their gazes were riveted on them every bit as much as whatever was going on in the playroom. Agonized desire filled most expressions. It was hard to see these men standing so close to what they wanted more than anything and unable to claim it. Feeling sad for their plight, Rachel turned away from them to see what was happening in the window.

She was surprised to see what she thought must be a clan surrounding an Earther male. He was suspended in a harness from the ceiling, his body horizontal and level with the Kalquorians’ groins. The young man, blond and blue-eyed, his body defined but nowhere near the chiseled musculature of his companions, swung back and forth between two of them. His hands were bound at his back, and his legs were snared in the harness, keeping him wide open for the Kalquorian pumping into his ass. Another enjoyed the use of the Earther’s mouth. The third Kalquorian knelt to one side, gently masturbating the blonde. The Kalquorians looked at their Earther playmate with expressions of lust mixed with genuine affection. Perhaps even love. It reminded Rachel of how Erybet’s clan looked at her.

“Not all clans want to be with females,” Erybet confirmed. “Some are predisposed to preferring men and have taken in male Earthers as sort of permanent companions. They look happy, don’t they?”

Rachel nodded. After the bloody carnage of the second playroom, this group seemed downright sweet. And hot. She was getting excited all over again.

They watched until the blonde was brought to climax, his cries muffled by the thick cock in his mouth. The two inside his body quickly followed with their own orgasms, and then the third Kalquorian took his turn between the young man’s thighs. Rachel’s nipples had gone hard during the display, and she was wetter than ever. She followed Erybet to the next window as the satisfied Kalquorian pair patted and stroked their still gasping Earther male.

They didn’t have to wait for a crowd to part to view the fourth playroom because no one was using it. Rachel looked the accessories displayed. Right in the middle was a segmented table. She couldn’t imagine what it did as its padded surface appeared to have several sections. What she could identify on it were wrist and ankle cuffs and a circular band that might be a head restraint at one end. Scary. Exciting.

The implements hanging on the side walls were every bit as confusing in some instances, fearsome in others, and thrilling in still more. One of the tailed whips like she’d seen demonstrated in the first playroom waited to be used on soft flesh. More objects like crops and leather straps meant to punish were there. Fake cocks of every imaginable size lined up on shelves. Tiny clips with chains between them. More things than her dazzled eyes could take in.

Erybet’s voice was low as she contemplated the tantalizing room in front of her. “Would you like to play?”

She inhaled sharply and looked at him. The idea was incredibly arousing. And all those eyes watching as she was tormented and pleasured by Erybet only got her hotter until she thought of the scars they’d also see. Those terrible, disfiguring scars that Kalquor’s doctors hadn’t been able to completely erase. The marks of her failure.

Her Dramok’s expression betrayed no emotion beyond kind patience. “I won’t be upset if you say no. Even if you say yes and then don’t like it, we can stop at any time. I leave the decision entirely to you.”

Rachel looked at that frightening, tempting table. She peered over her shoulder into the dark observation room, filled with Kalquorian men. Men who eyed her with desire, not knowing she was ugly with scars. She felt so sorry for them, many who would not win a Matara because there were so few women to go around. And sorry that if she did agree to play, they’d be disappointed with seeing such an imperfect example of what they wanted.

But what if they felt as Conyod, Sletran, and Erybet claimed they did? That her marks were honorable, heroic even because she’d survived the horror of torture? She knew she liked being watched as she was subjected to erotic pain and pleasure. And if these men weren’t dismayed by her body, if they in fact appreciated it, she might finally be able to reclaim a part of herself. The part she’d lost in prison when jeers and disgust were all that greeted her as she was stripped naked for mutilations and beatings.

It was ridiculous to depend on the opinions of others for her self-esteem. But she didn’t want to feel ugly anymore. Or worthless. Or undeserving.

Even though he’d left it up to her, there was still Erybet to consider. She didn’t want to do anything to upset her Dramok, though he seemed devoted to making everything she wanted come to pass. She told him, It’s no good if you don’t like being on display yourself.

His face reddened. “I’ll admit, I find it … arousing to perform in these settings. It wouldn’t be my first time in a room like that one.”

Rachel cocked an eyebrow at him. Well, that was interesting information. It won’t make you jealous for others to see me?

She’d actually wanted to ask him if he’d be ashamed for others to know his Matara was marked so hideously. Putting it in those words would make him angry however, so she went with an out that wouldn’t make either of them feel bad … or prompt Erybet to do something he didn’t want to just to prove something.

The lecherous grin he gave her made her stomach flutter. “I don’t mind them looking, but no man outside of my clan may touch you. That is our privilege alone.”

That should have settled things, but Rachel found she couldn’t leave the issue alone after all. Bracing herself, she typed, What about my scars? I’m not a perfect beauty for you to show off.

In an almost comical gesture of frustration, Erybet’s hand smacked over his eyes and he groaned. He dropped his hand to glare at her. “Ray-Ray. Rachel. There is no part of you that any man would see as flawed. To let these others know that I possess someone as faultless as you is an honor.”

His hands framed her face, holding her captive for a kiss. His tongue claimed all of her mouth, ruthlessly invading to make her moan and cling to him in desperate need. She rubbed up against him, her body rioting from finally being touched after seeing all the heady sex.

Erybet’s mouth released hers. His eyes were dark and he looked down at her with an attitude of possession. He growled, “I am the luckiest Dramok on Kalquor and proud to show everyone why. I am happy beyond words that my clan was rejected by the others who were nowhere near as amazing as you. I want to play with you and fuck you in front of everyone to proclaim my good fortune.”

Under that demanding gaze, her mouth still tingling from his kiss, all thoughts of being found lacking left Rachel’s head. Erybet released her face to yank her body up against his. His arm doing more to support her than her own legs, he took her to the wall next to the playroom’s window. He opened a door Rachel’s light-dependent eyes hadn’t seen and they entered a dimly lit hallway.

Erybet tugged her down its length, meeting an attendant that came around the corner at the end. The man, his gentle face suggesting Imdiko status, looked startled to see Rachel. He recovered quickly and bowed to the two of them. Erybet returned the respectful motion.

“The restraint table room, Dramok?”

Erybet nodded. “Please.” He rummaged in a pouch on his belt and withdrew his account identification.

The attendant didn’t immediately take it. He swallowed nervously, his gaze darting back and forth between Rachel and Erybet. “Ah, Dramok. We’ve never had an Earther Matara involved in play here before. I beg for your pardon, but I must ask her if she truly wishes to be on display for the pleasure of our other patrons.”

Still feeling Erybet’s incredible kiss made Rachel bold. She didn’t just wish to be seen by the others, she needed it. She was sure it would finally end the last of Earth’s poisonous hold on her emotions, to stomp into oblivion the fears that still plagued her.

She met the nervous attendant’s gaze. In a firm voice, she said, “Eryi.” Then she emphatically pointed at the door she thought led into the playroom.

The Imdiko’s lips twitched in a smile. He bowed deeply before her. “As you will, then.”

He accepted Erybet’s payment, scanning it and returning the identification. Then he opened the door to the playroom and bowed yet again. Rachel thought the man would have a hell of a backache before the day was out.

His voice followed them as they stepped into the brightly lit room. “Matara, Dramok, the room is yours. I wish you much enjoyment and pleasure.”

Chapter 14

Rachel’s determination and excitement ebbed the moment she stepped up beside the table. Beyond the window, she could see Kalquorians moving towards the room’s viewing area in a huge tide. Excited rumbling voices rolled through the room like oncoming thunder. Her heart beating madly, she turned to Erybet. Rachel typed so fast her panicked message was filled with spelling errors: wat of they thik Im ugly?

Erybet’s warm hand stroked her cheek. He smiled at her. “I promise you, they won’t see anything ugly about you. Wait here. I have an idea.”

He went to the wall where gags and restraints of all kinds hung together. He selected a dark blue satiny blindfold and a flexible strap and brought them to her. He tucked the strap into his belt. He brought the blindfold up and slipped it over her head. The soft fabric settled on her closed eyes.

“Better?”

She nodded. She could still hear the mutter of the growing crowd beyond the glass, which left her trembling. Not being able to see them calmed her racing pulse, however.

“Let me take your handheld. Remember, you say sholt if you can’t continue.”

She nodded and let the little computer leave her hands when she felt him tug on it. Then his hands closed over her forearms. “I’m going to tie your hands, so that you can’t resist what I do for our audience. Remember, you have your word. Sholt stops everything immediately.”

Rachel didn’t resist as he bound her wrists behind her back. He did that while still standing in front of her, so that her face burrowed into his chest. She inhaled the good scent of his musk and arousal.

Then he leaned back and grasped her shoulders, leading her. “This way.”

She followed him with cautious steps, moving forward and then a couple of steps to her left.

“Stop here. Face this way.”

He turned her slightly, and then moved around to stand behind her. His hands settled on her shoulders again and his lips brushed her ear.

“You are facing the window. They are watching you with such hunger in their eyes. They want to see this beautiful woman. Her beautiful body and how it responds to a man’s touch. I am going to seduce you on their behalf, for their pleasure.”

Rachel swallowed. She couldn’t help but tense a little. People were watching her, and they would soon see the imperfections.

Erybet’s hands moved from her shoulders, rubbing down the front of her body. Despite her nervousness she arched into his palms as they ran over her breasts. Her nipples tightened beneath the warmth of his touch. He plucked at them with his fingertips, making them swell so they would poke brazenly through the fabric of her dress.

Rachel heard low growls of appreciation. She was suddenly well aware of her physical helplessness to stop Erybet. He was blatantly showing her off to the assembled patrons of the pleasure club, showing how her body responded to him. She trembled with mingled tension and arousal.

Erybet cupped her breasts, pushing them up as if offering them to the crowd. More growls, louder with intensity. He squeezed, making them ache a little, and Rachel arched with a groan, her head falling back against his chest. Shouts of approval greeted her submission to Erybet’s use.

Hearing their acclaim gave Rachel strength. She thought of the sad and hungry looks they’d given her, these men who desired women in vain. Yes. She would be theirs to enjoy. This was what she wanted to show them; that they mastered her through the proxy of her Dramok. That she belonged to all of them since they had no Mataras of their own. She surrendered herself in that moment to every last one of them, utterly.

Erybet’s hands flattened over her ribcage and swept down to the swell of her hips. Then, wrapping one arm about her waist, his other hand moved over her mound, cupping her crotch. The feel of him touching her there made Rachel cry out, and she jerked instinctively, rubbing herself against his fingers.

“So eager, this little Matara,” Erybet said, loud enough for the onlookers to hear. “Show us how you desire us, my love.”

She ground against the press of his hand, rocking her hips back and forth to rub her flesh as her masters commanded. Choked cries escaped her throat. Heat bloomed with every call of encouragement they offered.

So many voices, calling on her to show them her pleasure. She worked herself against Erybet’s hand, determined to obey. She panted, the knots in her belly tightening with need. She wanted to come for them.

“Let us see all this beautiful woman offers us,” Erybet said.

His hands moved to the top of Rachel’s dress to part the resealable seam at the hollow of her throat. It opened with a soft purr just far enough to expose her breasts.

Groans and sighs rippled through the unseen crowd. Once more Erybet plucked at her nipples, making them harden and swell all the more. Darts of pleasure sprang from them to spear her pussy. Her head lolled from side to side against his chest and she moaned throatily.

“See how sensitive she is. How she succumbs to our touch. Such a sweet, soft creature. She is ready to give of herself, to trust us though she has been harmed so terribly in the past.”

All was silent now but for the Dramok’s voice and Rachel’s soft sounds of pleasure. The room itself seemed to be holding its breath.

Erybet cupped her breasts, gently massaging the mounds with his big, calloused hands. “They tortured this poor little innocent. Shamed her. They tried to steal her beauty. They told her she was ugly.”

Rachel barely noticed the low rumbles of angry growls. She was lost in the touch of those hands, those strong yet tender, teasing hands.

“They could not succeed in their determination to mar her perfection, though they left their marks upon her body. The fools, in their mindless zeal to destroy, only emphasized her strength and purity.”

With that, he gathered the open edges of the dress and parted the seam to Rachel’s waist. She was suddenly exposed, her scars laid bare for all to see. She froze.

There was a collective intake of breath. Rachel cringed, waiting for the insults. The catcalls. The disgust.

“Touch her for me, Dramok.”

“Yes, touch her. Show her how beautiful I think she is.”

“Let your spirit be healed, little one. There has never been any woman as lovely as you.”

More calls. More proclamations of her beauty, of her perfection. The men urged Erybet to demonstrate their attraction, their desire for her. Tears welled in Rachel’s closed, blindfolded eyes.

Erybet murmured, “You see? You are gorgeous to all these men. They are crowding up against the window to enjoy the sight of you. Every man in the observation room is looking at you and wanting you right now.”

He turned her around, showing the scars on her back. The calls of praise doubled. Rachel wept in gratitude. She didn’t believe she was anywhere near as perfect as they claimed, not even that she was pretty, but she thought she could accept she wasn’t hideous. Profound gratitude for the kindness of those gathered welled inside her heart.

“Now we will show them all the rest,” Erybet whispered. He parted the entire front of the dress, pulling it back to hang from her bound wrists. Then he turned her around to face the window again, exposing her to all.

Applause resounded, echoing through the room. Shouts acclaimed her beauty. Rachel smiled at her unseen audience. She felt uplifted by their approval.

“I’m putting you onto the table now.” An arm went under her knees, lifting her up. Cradled in Erybet’s arms, Rachel relaxed, her nervousness completely departed.

He sat her onto the slick surface of the table. “I’m untying the restraint, but you will be cuffed to the table,” he said. Her wrists were suddenly freed. “Lay down,” came the order.

Rachel did as she was told. Erybet slid her upward, and a slight touch against her forehead reminded her of the head restraint at that end of the table. She gasped softly, a twinge of anxiety shivering down her spine. Erybet said nothing; instead he set her hand a few inches to one side of her head. A strap drew tight across her wrist, locking it into place. Erybet’s finger slid between the bind and her skin, checking to make sure it wasn’t so tight that it would cut off her circulation. Satisfied, he tied down the other arm.

The restraint tightened across her forehead, rendering her unable to move her head. Rachel’s pulse pounded. The table suddenly moved beneath her arms only, spreading them perpendicular to her body. Rachel remembered how the table surface had looked as if it was in sections. Apparently it was, allowing Erybet to position her to his satisfaction.

Her ankles were also cuffed down. Now she was absolutely helpless but for the power of the word Erybet claimed would stop everything should she speak it. Rachel licked her dry lips.

I trust him. Erybet will keep me safe.

She was sure of it, but she trembled just the same. She was incredibly vulnerable.

The table moved, bringing her torso upright until she was only slightly reclining. Then she felt the part between her legs fall away, leaving only a slight ledge for her to sit upon. Her pussy and anus were completely uncovered.

Then the leg parts bent down below her knees and rose and spread her thighs. Now she was really exposed, her most secret parts wide open for everyone to look upon. She could almost feel the alien purple eyes crawling over her, evaluating. She’d thought she’d felt vulnerable before. Now she truly knew what that word meant.

“Lovely, isn’t she?” Erybet asked. Murmurs of assent drifted through the room. He continued. “And most responsive, as you will see.”

A feather-light touch wafted over Rachel’s clit. In her state of high anticipation, a bolt of elation shot through her. She cried out, jerking in reaction.

Delighted chuckles rang out, Erybet’s the loudest of all. “She does enjoy us touching that spot.”

Someone called, “There is another she likes too, one inside.”

“Indeed. Let me see if I can find it for you.”

Fingers spread Rachel’s pussy lips wide open, and then there was pressure at her entrance. She groaned as two thick fingers invaded her, curling slightly to rub the front of her sheath. It took Erybet only a matter of moments to find the sensitive cluster of nerves. A knot of aching need bloomed, making Rachel wail and strain.

“Krewet! Krewet!” she gasped as the heat built into an inferno.

“She can beg better than that. Would you like to hear her do it?”

Cries of “Yes!” and “Make her beg!” answered him.

Erybet’s fingers slowly withdrew from Rachel’s passage, leaving her whimpering for his touch. “I know, my little one. But these men want to enjoy you much longer, and we cannot disappoint them.”

Rachel heard someone say, “Look at how wet she is.”

“Taste her for us,” someone else encouraged Erybet. “Lick the juice from your fingers and describe her flavor.”

“Of course,” he agreed. There was a sucking sound, and Rachel wished his mouth was on her.

“Like rain in the summer,” he said. “Sweet and salty and fresh.”

The room sighed. Erybet’s footsteps told Rachel he went to the wall. She heard him rummaging about. Oh heavens, what was he getting? What was he going to subject her to in front of all these people?

“I’ve decided to use something I know she enjoys. I do not want to try something new in case she doesn’t like it. No one must be disappointed today, least of all her.”

Grateful murmurs greeted Erybet’s words. Meanwhile, Rachel’s mind rushed through the catalog of accessories the clan had already exposed her to, trying to figure out what her Dramok was up to.

She didn’t have long to wonder. A low hum started an instant before the vibrator brushed against her clit.

Rachel fought to arch as pleasure blasted through her. Her binds and the position she was in kept her from doing so. A grating cry flew from her lips, and she writhed helplessly until it moved away.

She panted in reaction. Eager laughter and throaty growls greeted her hearing. Then the vibrator was back, sending ticklish fingers of bliss through her pelvis as it pressed on her pleasure button for several seconds.

When it pulled away again and she’d had a moment to recover her voice, Rachel asked, “Krewet?”

“So soon, my Matara? But we’ve barely started.” Erybet sounded positively evil.

The vibrator touched her again, moving all over her clit, then sliding over the folds of her pussy. Its length settled inside her slit all the way up to her aching pearl. A dim part of Rachel’s mind still capable of thinking realized it was one of the fake penis toys, one that vibrated as well as being made to go inside her.

Pressure swelled within, gathering strength. Rachel needed to come with a terrible desperation, desperation that was made worse from knowing Erybet would not allow it to happen yet. She wailed in anticipation of the denial.

The toy cock shifted, moving away from her clit and out of her slit. Rachel moaned to feel it go. Then the tapered tip of it was at her pussy’s entrance.

She was so wet that Erybet slid it inside her with barely any effort. It wasn’t as large as any of her clan’s primary cocks. In fact, it felt slightly smaller than their anal cocks as well. But with her channel swelling in need, her body adjusted to make it feel nice and full. Sighs of pleasure left her lips as Erybet pressed it deep inside her, and then moved it out again.

It suddenly occurred to Rachel that Erybet was fucking her with the vibrating cock in front of a roomful of men. Dozens of complete strangers were watching it slide in and out of her pussy, wet from the juices that flowed heavily from her. And from the low-pitched growls that filled her ears, they were enjoying the sight of her bound and helpless, being made to take a fucking for their pleasure.

Her insides clutched hard around the toy. Her mouth widened with a cry that was pure wildness. The vibrator froze. She fought to grind against it, to make it move, to come for everyone watching.

“Easy,” Erybet said. He caressed her cheek. “Not yet, my little love. Hold on for us. We’re not ready for you to climax quite yet.”

Rachel sobbed in need. Then the vibrator was pulled free of her, leaving her empty. She wailed a protest.

Erybet chuckled. “Our woman is greedy, isn’t she?”

Strained laughter answered him.

Pressure against Rachel’s anus told her where the vibrator was going next. Slippery from her juices, it eased its way into her tight channel. She moaned at the heavy pleasure its invasion gave her, though she really wanted it against her clit or inside her pussy. Still, she remained on display, and her audience was watching her do the most forbidden activity she knew of. Fresh desire licked through her.

She moaned encouragement as Erybet moved the fake cock in and out, over and over. She warbled with every stab of sensation, letting them know how much she liked be taken this way. And it did feel good. Sensual. Erotic.

Erybet pressed the cock all the way in until its wider base stopped it. He left it there, thrumming deep inside her. His light steps told Rachel he was getting something else for her.

“Nipple clips,” he said when he came back. “Some pain to heighten your pleasure.”

Rachel felt his fingers slide a metal ring over one tip, and braced herself for the pain. He tightened it, and a heated barb stabbed into her breast. She hissed. He tightened it more until she cried out. She writhed.

“Remember your word,” he whispered.

Rachel shook her head as much as the restraint would allow. It hurt all right, but for some reason she liked it. She thrust the other breast up, insisting he torture it as well. He did so, tightening that ring until she yelled again.

“Your word, my Matara?”

“Etav.” She told him no through clenched teeth. Her nipples felt like they were on fire, but it somehow adding to the strange, thick pleasure of the vibrator in her ass. She was giving herself to Erybet, to every man in the building, demanding they accept her acquiescence to their power over her. In a weird way, she felt she was dominating them into dominating her.

After a moment of expectant silence from her Dramok, he stepped away, heading for the toys again. Rachel shuddered to think what he might add to the delicious torment she was already in.

She found out quickly when another fake cock pressed against her pussy, seeking entrance. It was bigger and she already had the other one filling her ass, making the fit tight. She made herself pliant to the invasion. Erybet was careful, letting her juices wet it thoroughly as he pushed it in. There was a part where it was much thicker, a round bulge that her swollen passage resisted. Erybet persisted, and it slipped inside with only a little added ache. As the cock slid to its end, Rachel felt the gentle enclosure of a clitoral stimulator surround her most sensitive flesh.

Once the toy was fully seated inside her, Erybet didn’t move it in and out, as he’d done with the other one. Instead, he switched it on and let it do its work.

This one didn’t feel like the vibrator shivering her back end. It wasn’t simply thrumming, it was – it was – turning. The thing was rotating inside her and the bulbous part that her body had been hesitant to accept moved around and around, the motion directly affecting the sensitive spot inside her. And the soft clit enclosure was sending mindblowing pulses that completely unhinged her mind.

Heat billowed inside, and Rachel’s body was immediately covered in perspiration. Her mouth stretched open in a scream.

“You may not come yet. Resist, my Matara. Your Dramok commands your obedience.”

The voice was one of no compromise. And though Rachel couldn’t summon a single coherent thought, she immediately clamped down on the climax attempting to bulldoze through her.

She shrieked her frustration, her desperate need. Her body quaked and seized in turn, battling to abide by that voice of authority even as orgasm fought to wrest all control from her. Mini spasms licked through her womb, attempting to relieve some of the awesome pressure.

“You will not climax. Do as you are told.”

Rachel howled. Insistent sparks lit her insides, trying to burst into inferno. Something slid out of her ass, leaving her open and terribly empty.

“Not yet, my Matara. Just a moment longer.”

The thing filling and moving in her pussy was also withdrawn. The worst of the need retreated, but she was still in agony. She didn’t know what was worse; fighting not to come when she needed to so badly, or being deprived of the ability to release all that pressure. Her cries became heartbroken sobs.

“Almost there, my love.”

New pressure on her pussy and anus, something warmer with silkier surfaces than what had filled her before. It was him. It was all of them, all the men watching her, preparing to fuck her through Erybet. Rachel begged for them to take her with wordless vocalizations of desperation.

And they did. New, hot pleasure forged into her body, drumming hard inside and against her. The insane pressure returned and the need to release it. The cocks pounded, and a hard groin slapped furiously against her. Tension wound tight, tying her in knots. Then the calloused pads of fingertips closed on her clit, rubbing the swollen flesh between them.

“Come, little one. Come now.”

Rachel flung herself headlong into the cataclysm. All was hurtling elation chasing through her, flinging her to and fro, breaking her into bits. White noise filled her ears, and for a long time there was nothing but heaving ecstasy and a buzzing roar.

Rachel wasn’t sure if she’d lost consciousness at some point. The next thing she was aware of was opening her eyes and looking into Erybet’s heavy lidded gaze. Wild applause and roaring approval filled the air.

“Well done, lover,” the Dramok said. He sounded out of breath, as if he’d just run a marathon.

He straightened, having collapsed over her at some point. His cocks slid from her body in a wash of hot liquid. He tucked them into his short pants with a lazy grin. Rachel noted the table had been shifted slightly to one angle, and she realized the new position would have allowed the still cheering audience to see Erybet as he took her. She thought of how it must have looked, his cocks plunging in and out of her pussy and ass. She shivered.

I think we’ve had enough for now. Put a lid on it, wild woman.

Erybet worked to release her from the table. She detected a fine tremor in his frame, but when her legs didn’t want to hold her up when she was finally free to stand, he scooped her up in his arms. With a nod to their appreciative audience, he carried her out of the playroom.

Rachel looked up into his beautiful face and smiled. “Gutug ze.”

Erybet smiled back. “You are most welcome, my love.”

The attendant, looking flushed, hurried to them. “This way, please.”

They followed him to a doorway set against the back wall. “This is the recovery room. You may relax here for as long as you need. I will fetch your dress and leave it outside the door for you, Matara. And thank you for a most wonderful demonstration.”

He unlocked the door and left them with another of his deep bows.

The lighting in the room was soft, almost dim to Rachel’s eyes. Golden beige walls enhanced the calming atmosphere. Soft cloud-white cushions with backrests abounded in the small space and a cooling unit sat in one corner. Erybet set Rachel down on the cushions, and went to the cooling unit for a water pouch. He opened it and handed it to her. She drank greedily as he fetched a downy blanket from a stack in one corner. He sat down, pulled her into his lap, and covered her in the mink brown blanket. When she finished her water, he set the refillable container to the side. Rachel snuggled against his chest, feeling secure in his arms. She burst into tears.

Erybet hugged her closer than ever, frantically smoothing his hand over her hair, forehead, brows, and cheeks. “Ray-Ray? What is it? Damn it, I never should have taken you in this place.”

She shook her head, still weeping. She told him, “Happy. Good.”

The poor man looked completely confused and a little panicked. “Then why are you crying?”

Rachel indicated she needed her handheld. Erybet drew it from a pouch on his belt and handed it over to her.

She told him, I’m not ugly or bad. I’m not a monster. They liked me.

Erybet’s breath whooshed from his lungs. “Of course they did. How could they not?”

You don’t understand what it meant to me. Being on display and getting their approval healed something inside. I’m not my scars anymore. I’m Rachel again.

Erybet read her words and smiled. “I’m not sure it’s therapy Conyod would have prescribed, but if it worked, I’ll take it.” His smile faltered. “Maybe I should bring Sletran here.”

It was an opening she’d been hoping for. Rachel quickly typed, Tell me what happened to him. To you. Conyod says you’ve both changed so much.

Erybet’s full lips pressed together, thinning. He shook his head. “It’s classified information, Ray-Ray. If I tell you, it could put me in prison.”

Rachel felt shock reverberate throughout her body. He could be jailed for revealing his pain? To anyone? She scowled. If Erybet and Sletran were suffering, they needed some outlet to express themselves. They wouldn’t heal otherwise.

You are my clan. I would never keep secrets from you because I trust you. You can trust me to keep your secrets no matter what. You know how strong I am when it comes to keeping my mouth shut.

Erybet snorted dismal laughter. “A little too strong, my love. To the point where you can’t even speak your own language.”

He’d called her his love several times over the last hour. It warmed Rachel’s heart, and she reasoned it had to count for something in the realm of trust. You are healing me. Let me do the same for you.

Erybet’s struggle was evident in his face. She sensed he wanted to tell her, but fear of authority, of punishment, and maybe even more was making it difficult for him.

He finally sighed. “Secrets are destroying my clan. A unit such as ours cannot survive under their weight. I nearly lost Conyod because I kept quiet. I still may lose Sletran if we don’t handle the issue carefully. His life would be at stake if it all came out.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. That was serious.

Erybet sat in silence for so long that Rachel thought he might not speak after all. It gave her time to wonder if she really wanted to know what had happened during the war.

When he spoke, it was so sudden that she jumped. “You know of the New Bethlehem Slaughter of Innocents?”

Rachel nodded. It was the worst crime to come out of the war next to Armageddon.

“Sletran and I were there. We gave the orders that killed those people.”

Rachel stared. Her heart felt as if it had stopped. She couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. She shook her head.

Erybet stared into her eyes, and she saw the truth in them. “Yes, Ray-Ray. We are the men directly responsible for the murders of over twenty Mataras and their children.”

Her heart lurched into gear again, thumping painfully against her breastbone. Betrayal and rage lit and burned in her head. Words of hate wanted to spill from her lips, but she couldn’t utter them.

Over and over in her head the words ran. I am clanned to monsters.

She typed with shaking fingers. How could you? The war was over. What could you gain by slaughtering those who had never harmed you?

She was crying again, crying in fury that she had been so stupid to trust in these men, these brutal killers. Her instincts had been all wrong about Erybet and Sletran. Completely, totally wrong.

Erybet didn’t try to hold her in his arms, perhaps discerning she would fight him. “It was a terrible mistake, Ray-Ray. Please, for your sake and mine, let me tell you how it happened, from start to finish.”

A mistake? How did one call that massacre a mistake?

Yet something inside Rachel made her sit there, made her listen to Erybet. Perhaps it was because she still wanted to believe. It could have been the naked anguish in his eyes that froze her there. And as he related the story in a voice shaken with emotion, she slowly came to grips with the horror.

Her anger dissipated when she heard that Erybet was not to blame. He’d trusted Sletran to make the final decision and to execute the mission properly. And what of Sletran’s hand in the slaughter? Could it be he truly was as much a victim of circumstance as Erybet?

She’d seen nothing in her Nobek that could make her believe he was a coldhearted killer. She worried that her ability to assess the true natures of people had faltered however. Kalquorians were of a different species and many of their ways were foreign to her. Was she ready to believe Sletran was a victim of circumstance because of wishful thinking? Because she didn’t want to admit she might have committed her life to a monster?

She was sure of one thing: the massacre was not the result of a simple mistake.

“Gurlucks,” she spat.

Erybet paled. “Matara, I swear to you we didn’t know—”

She quieted him with a gentle hand pressing against his lips. She typed, Not you. Not Sletran. Those who fed you lies that the insurgents were the ones who were in that building. Those who set you up, possibly one of your own.

Erybet’s brows knit together. “No one would do such a thing. Not any of the men I worked with. Not my fellow soldiers.”

Rachel gave him a bitter smile. My government’s military did it all the time. Lies, torture, murdering of their own citizens. It was part of what I fought against. It’s what people I loved died for. It’s what gave me the scars I still carry.

He looked horrified. “But the war was over. The Earther colonists were being victimized by the rebels as much as we were. There was no need for any of us to kill women and children.”

Trust me on this, Erybet. I know treachery. I can sense it from miles away. You were deliberately misled. That’s not the worst part, though.

She could tell he didn’t want to believe her suspicions, and it was with great reluctance that he asked, “What do you mean?”

The bastards who are really responsible for the massacre got away with it.

Erybet had nothing to say about that. He was fighting the idea that one of his own had turned on him and Sletran, using them to kill and letting them suffer for guilt that didn’t belong to them.

Rachel believed it though. She had to, or the blame sat squarely on Sletran. She didn’t think her newfound love for the Nobek could survive such a thing. So someone else was involved and the slaughter had been carried off on purpose.

It was a hard thing to bear. She either had to despise her clanmate, something she rejected utterly, or seethe with impotent rage at a faceless enemy. The lack of constructive options pissed her off the most. The old anger at injustice burned bright within her, and just as it had been on Earth, there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

Chapter 15

Conyod and Sletran left the Imdiko’s office after he’d finally finished delegating his workload. Fortunately, Conyod’s Nobek father Vel had stopped in, being in the capital on one of his many business trips. Sletran had been happy to converse at length with the elder Nobek about the clanning of Rachel, the needs of Mataras, and the myriad ways Sletran could ensure his new mate’s safety. Then to Conyod’s chagrin, the two men cornered an unfortunate supervisor of the hospital’s security and grilled him ruthlessly on the safeguards in place for doctors on staff. Sletran had already gone over the situation, but that had been a month ago. Sometimes administration made budget cuts and security suffered. He would not allow his Imdiko to be at unnecessary risk under any circumstances, and having Conyod’s father along to impress the need for the best protection possible was a bonus.

Conyod buried himself in his work and pretended he didn’t know the two men.

The security supervisor, a much older Nobek named Nar, patiently assured them nothing had changed since Sletran’s last check. Then he looked Sletran over, as if sizing him up.

“Are you still on leave from your military duties, Nobek?” he asked.

Sletran stiffened. It was humiliating to have been put on leave, no matter the reason. He hated discussing it with anyone outside his clan. “I am.”

Nar seemed pleased. “We are hiring more security due to the issues of Matara safety. Your name came up as a good candidate for the work for as long as you remain off duty. If you’re interested, I can have you fill out the necessary forms.”

Vel prodded him. “That would be perfect, Sletran. Having you here will go a long way to easing my concerns about Conyod’s welfare.”

Sletran considered. He liked the idea of being here with Conyod, with all those at the hospital who needed his protection. Rachel would have Erybet to keep her company during those hours, and there would still be plenty of time to work on her language skills – as well as other things. He nodded. “That sounds like a wonderful opportunity, Nobek Nar.”

“Excellent. Give me your contact information and I will send you details on the position as well as the forms.”

Vel left twenty minutes before Conyod shut his computer down and announced he was ready to leave. As Sletran walked at his side through the psychiatric wing, Conyod checked his handheld.

“Message from Erybet. He says he and Rachel are picking up the midday meal and meeting us at home,” he reported.

“Excellent,” Sletran said, realizing as he spoke he sounded anything but pleased. At Conyod’s questioning look, he added, “I’m seeing a lot of grim faces around here, my Imdiko.”

Conyod gave his attention to the small knots of orderlies whispering amongst themselves in the hall. His brows lowered. “I wonder what’s going on? There are Govi and Kivokan. Let’s see what they know.”

They approached the two doctors standing just outside Kivokan’s office. Conyod’s superiors turned to them. Sletran noted how the always pleasant Govi looked not only stunned but furious as well.

Conyod told them, “I just finished allocating my caseload for the week, doctors. What has everyone looking so worried?”

Govi spoke in a low tone. “Body parts were found at the complex for Earther Mataras.”

Conyod gasped. “Body parts? Not of women?”

Govi nodded, motioning for Sletran’s clanmate to keep his voice down. “My Nobek Raxstad says it looks like trophies from the New Bethlehem slaughter.”

The lights emitting from the wall panels suddenly looked terribly bright to Sletran. The heightened illumination stabbed into his skull painfully. At the same time, he felt eyes on him and looked at Dr. Kivokan. The Dramok was watching him with a narrowed stare.

Kivokan asked, “Are you all right, Nobek?”

Sletran’s lips felt numb, and he wondered how he moved them. His voice floated far away. “This news is terrible. Is it on the news feeds yet?”

Govi nodded. “Apparently, many of the abductions have actually been killings committed by someone calling himself the Beast of New Bethlehem. The details have been kept quiet until now to keep everyone from panicking, but Global Security is giving the public information now in hopes that heightened vigilance will keep the Mataras safe.”

Sletran fought to maintain his equilibrium. Damn it, why were the lights so bright in here? Kivokan’s stare was also making him want to fidget, though no Nobek would ever do so. He had an urge to claw the man’s eyes out.

Despite Conyod standing right next to him, the Imdiko’s voice was also far away, as if traveling through a long tunnel to reach him. “How many murder victims are we talking about?”

Govi shook his head, as if to deny the words he himself spoke. “At least ten. The killer claims there are more; that he started at New Bethlehem. That he himself was responsible for the massacre.” He turned to Kivokan. “We need to call a meeting with staff. The Mataras in our care here don’t need to hear of this. They live in fear as it is. And let’s see about doubling security in this wing.”

To Sletran’s relief, Kivokan finally moved his too-sharp gaze to address Govi. “I’ll get right on it. Is this afternoon good for the staff meeting?”

“The sooner the better.”

Conyod hands were opening and closing in agitation. “Should I put off my leave?”

Govi patted him on the shoulder. “Go home and take care of Rachel. She’ll feel safer with her full clan around her.”

Unless someone in her clan is the Beast. The thought spiraled through Sletran’s buzzing skull. It was all he could do to not shout it for all to hear. Feeling barely tethered to reality, Sletran followed Conyod out to the hospital’s docking bay.

* * * *

Conyod noticed Sletran’s silence as they rode home. He could appreciate the horror his clanmate felt, given the connection between the terrible events of New Bethlehem and this new development with the Matara killings.

He tried to draw the Nobek out a little. “Are you all right?”

“No. And I don’t want to discuss it right now.”

Conyod didn’t pursue the issue. He’d already poked at Sletran’s problems quite a bit today, and now his Nobek was trying to absorb the latest shock. He should give him time to let it sink in.

They reached home without incident and found Erybet waiting for them in the dining room, along with lunch. Before Conyod could ask, the Dramok said, “If you two can wait a few minutes, Ray-Ray is having a quick bath.” His voice turned sharp as he looked them over. “Why do you look so grim?”

When Sletran didn’t speak up, Conyod filled Erybet in on the latest news. Erybet’s expression was horrified. All the color drained from his face to hear body parts from New Bethlehem had been found in the Matara compound.

“What nightmare is this?” he whispered. “Why won’t it end?”

“You should take me to Global Security. Turn me in for suspicion of being the killer.”

Conyod and Erybet stared at Sletran, whose low voice had spoken those words. Conyod wondered if his clanmate’s mind had finally broken under the stress.

He said, “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d never kill Mataras. No one with half a brain would believe it.”

Staring at the floor, Sletran muttered, “I already have. The deaths of all those innocents on New Bethlehem preys on my mind. I should be punished.”

Sounding more tired than insistent, Erybet said, “New Bethlehem was not your fault.”

Sletran’s head lifted and he glared at Erybet. “We have to face the facts: I could be the murderer. For the sakes of the women on this planet, I should be locked up.”

Conyod couldn’t figure out why his Nobek was so adamant about perhaps being the killer. The man’s guilt was destroying him. “Stop it, Sletran. I know you, and you’re no murderer.”

Sletran turned that burning gaze on him. “What about the time I keep losing? Who knows what I’ve been doing when my mind goes blank? Why wouldn’t it be me?”

Conyod’s mouth dropped open. For a brief moment, he contemplated what his clanmate was saying. Sletran was missing a lot of time, time when no one knew where he was.

But it was Sletran. His Nobek. Therefore, it was impossible. The Imdiko became angry that he’d given the matter a second thought. “Just shut up, Sletran. There is no way you’re this Beast of New Bethlehem. Don’t say another fucking word about it!”

Sletran’s eyes narrowed and he took a step towards Conyod. His hand flashed out and snagged the hair at the back of the Imdiko’s head. He yanked him close. “You listen to me. You cannot let your loyalty blind you to the possibility that I have lost all control.”

Conyod bared his fangs. His fists clenched. Then Erybet was shoving them apart.

“Let him go, Sletran. Both of you calm down. I’ll decide what to do about the situation. For now, Nobek, go help your Matara take her bath.”

Sletran turned that hectic gaze from Conyod. “Erybet, I’m begging you—”

“Go.” The Dramok’s tone was firm and brooked no discussion. “You know how much better you feel when you’re with Rachel. I want you to concentrate on her care for right now.”

The Nobek’s shoulders drooped, but he left the room without another word. Conyod opened his mouth and then shut it again when Erybet narrowed his eyes and shook his head. They stood there, looking at each other, until they heard Rachel’s welcome to Sletran from the bathing pool.

Erybet stepped close enough that Conyod could feel the heat from his body. Speaking very quietly, the Dramok said, “I’ve noticed when Sletran becomes upset, that’s when he has those blackouts.”

Conyod matched the low volume of his voice, but his tone was intense. “He’s plenty upset now. As am I. I don’t believe for a second that he’s the killer, Erybet.”

Erybet looked down at Conyod, his stare hard and lasting far too long for comfort.

There’s no way Erybet could believe Sletran is capable of such atrocities. Conyod searched his leader’s eyes. Whatever Erybet’s thoughts, he gave no sign.

Still speaking in hushed tones, Erybet said, “He’ll try to leave at some point today. Probably after we’ve gone to bed. We’ll follow him and see where he goes. It’s time we solved the mystery of our Nobek’s missing time.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking. I was going to suggest it to you tonight.”

Erybet’s next words chilled the Imdiko. “Whatever we find, Conyod, we have to do what’s right. For everyone’s sake, no matter the consequences.”

Conyod swallowed. He again tried to reassure himself that Erybet didn’t think Sletran could possibly be the killer, but the grim set of his Dramok’s face frightened him.

* * * *

Sletran seemed to regain his equilibrium as the day passed. When he and Conyod learned Rachel and Erybet had performed at one of the pleasure clubs, they were first stunned, then quickly aroused by the story.

Conyod wasn’t sure Erybet should have done such a thing, certainly not without getting his input first. However, the news that Rachel had gained some confidence made him keep any censure he might have spoken to himself.

He looked his beaming Matara over with an assessing eye. “So you finally understand what I’ve been telling you all along. That your scars take away none of your beauty or worth.”

She ducked her head and shrugged. So I’m a little stubborn.

Conyod snorted. “Stubborn is understating it.”

Sletran’s big hand stroked over her hair. “Not only do they not make you ugly, but for me and I’m sure many of the Nobeks watching you, such marks only enhance your beauty. There is nothing more alluring to my breed than the evidence of strength.”

Taking advantage of Sletran’s growing calm, Erybet seized the opportunity to next share that Rachel knew all about New Bethlehem. Sletran turned away, but Rachel made him look at her. She didn’t write him a message, letting a passionate kiss tell the Nobek she still had faith in him.

Once he was smiling at her again, she gave him and Conyod her opinion of the slaughter’s cause. Her assertion that someone else had purposely set the group up had some merit in Conyod’s view, but Erybet and Sletran quickly dismissed that notion.

What about your informants? They were Earther, weren’t they? Maybe they were with the rebels, she typed.

“The information would have been checked by the appropriate people,” Sletran insisted. He was relieved enough knowing Rachel believed in him that he spoke of the nightmare with ease. Conyod relaxed a little at the sight, but he knew Sletran was still struggling.

Despite all the revelations, the rest of the day passed with lazy abandon. The clan indulged themselves with lovemaking, naps, soaking in the balcony’s whirlpool, and Rachel giving Sletran a lesson in how to make baked ravioli for dinner. They watched a vid of an orchestra playing an underwater concert on the oceanic world of Alneusia. Everything seemed perfect with the clan, but for the distant look Sletran occasionally got in his eyes. Conyod was convinced that the Nobek might very well have one of his spells.

They went to bed late that night. Rachel fell asleep almost immediately, her back to Conyod so he could spoon her, her face pressed against Erybet’s chest. Knowing Sletran would not sleep until he thought the rest of the clan was safely slumbering, Conyod closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply. He sensed Erybet do the same.

Sletran’s chest rose and fell rhythmically against Conyod’s upper back. His arm was heavy against the Imdiko’s ribs where it crossed over to touch Rachel. The muscled thickness of the Nobek’s thigh slung over his. Time passed. No one moved. Conyod knew Sletran was tuned to feeling the least little shift from the rest of them, that he would be wide awake in an instant to determine everyone was all right. Wanting to move wasn’t a problem though; Conyod was comfortable. Too comfortable. He felt warm with his beloved Matara resting against his front and the safe weight of his Nobek against his back. Their even breaths soothed him. His mind began to drift after the first hour, reaching for sleep.

A hand squeezed his shoulder. Conyod’s eyes flew open to see the Dramok looking at him over Rachel’s head. Coolness and a sense of loss alerted Conyod. Sletran no longer lay behind him. The welcome weight of the arm and leg that had been slung over him were gone.Warned by Erybet’s continued silence and gaze pointed elsewhere, Conyod slowly turned his head. Sletran sat on the edge of the bed, staring into space.

Conyod whispered, “Sletran? Are you awake?”

Despite his sharp hearing, the Nobek seemed to not hear him. He didn’t twitch. He simply sat and stared at nothing.

Conyod looked at Erybet. “Be ready to follow if he goes,” the Dramok said.

As if he’d been given a signal, Sletran stood. Moving carefully so as to not disturb Rachel, Conyod and Erybet slid out of the bed. When Sletran went to the closet and grabbed a black formsuit, his eyes still blank, the other two did the same. Dressed in the dark bodysuits with their traction boots on, Conyod realized they would all be nearly invisible in the night, with only the lighter colored flesh of their faces and hands easy to spy. With the weather so warm, putting on the long-sleeved neck-to-ankle garments suggested subterfuge. Whatever part of Sletran’s mind was operating, it did not want him to be seen.

Sletran headed for the door, and Erybet followed on his heels. Conyod paused to look worriedly at Rachel, sleeping all alone in the great bed. Noting his concern, Erybet whispered, “The security system is armed. She will be all right. We need to hurry or he’ll get away.”

Conyod nodded. He and Erybet rushed after their Nobek.

Sletran got into the cliff’s transport, and they slipped in with him. His voice wooden and unfeeling, the Nobek said, “Exit, beach.” The door closed and Conyod felt the conveyance move.

Seconds later, the transport door opened. The sounds of waves crashing onto the sand boomed into Conyod’s ear. Sletran stepped out onto the patio. There was a blur of movement, and he was gone.

Conyod raced out, looking frantically into the moonless night. He didn’t see Sletran anywhere. “Damn!”

Erybet pointed at the ground. The bit of starlight coming from the sky was enough for Conyod’s sensitive eyes to pick up traction-soled divots leading to the north. “We can follow his prints. Quickly, my Imdiko. We don’t want him to get too far ahead.”

Conyod knew Erybet would be far better at tracking than he, so he followed his Dramok down the beach. The steps ran in a nearly straight line, keeping close to the cliff face. It was late enough that few if any marked their passage. Most windows from the cliff homes were dark, and shuttle traffic overhead was light. With the growl of the tide, they made no sound he could hear.

They ran perhaps a mile before the tracks veered closer to the cliffs. Realizing they were nearing the opening in the rockface that led to the underground marketplace, Conyod ran faster to keep abreast of Erybet.

What could Sletran possibly want in the market area? Only the clubs would be open at this time of night.

They reached the entrance, right where Sletran’s footprints led. The men slowed.

The route to the marketplace was dug straight through the rock, a well-lit tunnel for foot traffic to pass through. It was wide enough to allow emergency shuttles as well, the only vehicles allowed in the enclosed underground area. The path was definitely firmer beneath Conyod’s boots, allowing him to walk faster. The bad part was the smooth rock showed no footprints for them to follow. If they could move more quickly, then so could Sletran.

“There he is,” Erybet said at the same moment Conyod sighted the lone figure up ahead. Having gained the tunnel, Sletran had slowed, walking in a casual manner. He might have been any late night partier, going to the market to seek a little fun in one of the clubs.

Conyod sighed. “Thank goodness. I was afraid we’d lose him.”

“We still could if he gets to the marketplace too far ahead of us. Let’s get as close as we can, but try not to alert him.”

Conyod frowned. “He didn’t even realize we were with him before.”

“No, but he’s playing casual now, trying to not draw attention to himself. His senses are on alert, and for all we know, he may not recognize us in the state he’s in. If we seem to be tracking him, it could make him run again. Or turn and fight.”

Conyod’s frown deepened. He didn’t believe for one second that Sletran would try to hurt his clanmates. But he obeyed his Dramok, jogging lightly and almost soundlessly after Sletran.

They were only a few yards back when Sletran reached the end of the tunnel, stepping from its well-lit environs to the night façade of the underground area. Seeing the Nobek turn away from the path that led to the market area had Conyod gaping in confusion.

“He turned right. That means he’s going to the dwelling area,” he whispered to Erybet. “Why would he go that way, and at this hour? It’s too late to visit people. We don’t know anyone who lives over there, do we?”

Erybet didn’t answer. His grim face was set as he pursued Sletran who had sped up again. Conyod was too busy trying to keep up to ask anything else.

The path was more of the smooth rock that had once made up the cliffs and the mines of the area. On either side of it were trees, small wooded areas. With the ceiling vid showing the star-blanketed night sky overhead, Conyod could almost believe he was actually outdoors rather than underground. Even the air smelled earthy, with the fragrance of the newly leafing trees adding to the illusion.

Conyod knew the trail ended about a mile up, turning into homes cut right out of the rock. Beyond those was the unclanned Earther Matara complex, where they had moved Rachel in and moved her right back out only days later.

Up ahead, Sletran’s trotting figure blurred and disappeared. Conyod halted and threw his hands up in frustration.

“Not again! He’s left no footprints this time, not on the stone ground!”

Erybet also stopped and turned to him. “I think I know where he’s headed, but we’ll have to hurry. Keep up with me.”

He took off running, though not nearly as fast as Sletran had. Conyod raced after him, wondering where they would end up.

He found out minutes later when Erybet led him to the Matara complex. There was a shimmering defensive wall around it, which Conyod hadn’t seen on his previous visits. Is this where Sletran had come? Why? Did it have something to do with the killings?

“You cannot let your loyalty blind you to the possibility that I have lost all control.”

Sletran’s words from earlier that day spoke in his head. Conyod grimly shoved the words away. His Nobek would never knowingly kill innocents.

But did Sletran know what he was doing right now?

They skirted the shielded area, and Conyod searched the darkness for a sign of his clanmate. They’d only gone perhaps two dozen steps when lights came up all around, blinding him. He and Erybet froze.

“Halt! Show me your hands!”

Silhouettes moved between them and the lights, and Conyod blinked past the glare to see he and Erybet were surrounded by half a dozen Nobeks, all with blades drawn. Erybet slowly, carefully brought his hands out to from his sides, the fingers splayed wide to show he carried no weapons. Conyod did the same.

“Do not move,” a voice growled in his ear. Rough hands ran all over his body, searching him thoroughly. Two other men were doing the same to his Dramok. Moments later, the guards stepped back.

“They’re clear, sir.”

A bearded Nobek, scowling ferociously, faced Erybet. He wasn’t as tall as Conyod’s Dramok, but the man was bulky with muscles that looked perfect for hurting people. “What is your business here? This is a Class 8 secured facility. Visitors are only permitted through the main gate and only during the daylight hours.”

Erybet’s voice was steady, as if he didn’t have all those shiny blades and scary Nobeks with percussion blasters holstered at their hips surrounding him. “My Nobek sleepwalks. We followed him here.”

The guard’s eyes widened. He seemed undecided as to whether to be confused or even more pissed off. “Is this a joke, Dramok…?”

“Erybet.” He inclined his head only slightly in Conyod’s direction. “My Imdiko, Conyod.”

When the guard’s gaze flicked towards him, Conyod dared to speak up. “It’s not a joke, sir. I’m a psychologist on staff at the hospital. My Nobek is a trauma case from the war. He wanders off with no memory of where he’s been. We’re only trying to help him.”

The head guard regarded him for a moment with narrowed eyes, but some of the threat seemed to ease from his attitude. He looked over to the guard standing next to him, one of the men who’d searched Erybet. “Check their credentials.” To another he ordered, “Inform the chief we may have a Nobek wandering the grounds. Put the site on high alert.”

As the guards muttered orders to their handhelds, the head guard told Erybet and Conyod, “You can put your hands down, but stay exactly where you are. You bolt, we’ll cut first and ask questions later.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Erybet’s head hung down. He looked defeated.

For his part, Conyod chafed under the delay, worried about Sletran. Afraid that when the guards found his Nobek they’d do something that would hurt him. He continued to look around, trying to peer past the lights that made the night blaze.

“Credentials confirmed,” reported the guard tasked with checking their identification. “Erybet, decorated company commander with military ground forces, currently on administrative leave. Commendation from the Imperial Commander himself. Conyod, psychological doctor working at the local hospital. Their Nobek is Sletran, decorated group commander with military ground forces, also currently on administrative leave. Also received an Imperial commendation. No record of arrests or incarcerations on any of them. They recently clanned one of our lottery Mataras, a Rachel Hicks. All information is on file here. And Commander Tudlu, you’d better have a look at this.”

He showed Tudlu something on his handheld, something that widened the Nobek’s eyes. He stared at Erybet and opened his mouth to say something. Before he could speak, something on the head guard’s belt beeped. He pulled a com plug from the strap and put it in his ear.

“Tudlu here. Yes. He’s where? Okay. He’s a war trauma case; don’t approach. We’ll bring his clanmates to him.” He listened and said, “The man is a highly decorated vet. Imperial ordered untouchable. You can contain but not attack. Just stay back until we get there.” To Erybet and Conyod, the guard said, “Your Nobek has been located. Come with me.”

The six guards surrounded them. Erybet and Conyod followed Tudlu, escorted by the entire group. Conyod’s heart thumped fast. Judging from the half a conversation he’d heard, they hadn’t tried to take Sletran prisoner. Maybe they could get out of this in one piece after all.

The complex to his left had been mostly hidden by a sharp rise in the landscape. As they walked, they reached an area where the ground flattened out, making the buildings and grounds easy to see. Conyod could even spy the lovely center courtyard between two of the living structures. He didn’t have much time to think about that because their group was joining another one of six Nobek security personnel. That detail faced away from the compound, looking into a stand of trees and bushes only a few yards away.

The commander from that group stepped over to confer with Tudlu. “He’s just outside the perimeter, next to that rock. I damned near tripped over him. He’s sitting there, still as a statue, and not responding to anything we say.”

Tudlu jerked his head at Erybet and Conyod. “Let’s go. The rest of you, surround the Nobek but do not threaten or engage with him.”

The guards slid away, taking up positions around a large, decorative stone, big enough to come up to Conyod’s chest. The Imdiko saw his clanmate crouched in the rock’s shadow, staring towards the complex. Sletran looked both blank and alert all at once. It was a bizarre expression, one Conyod had never seen him wear before.

He started towards him, moving between Erybet and Tudlu. “Sletran?”

Tudlu’s thick arm, as strong and unyielding as a metal beam, swung out to block him, touching Conyod’s chest. Erybet stared at Tudlu and growled.

The security guard kept his arm up, holding Conyod back. His tone was diplomatic, however. “Your pardon for my restraining your clanmate, Dramok, but if your Nobek wakes we don’t know what state of mind he’ll be in. I only wish to protect the Imdiko.”

Conyod shoved against the unmoving barrier. “He would never hurt me.”

Tudlu shook his head. “Probably not, but many men were changed by the war. My brother was one. He suffered a flashback and injured his Imdiko, something none of us thought he was capable of. I must insist you keep your distance until we know Sletran is safe for you to approach.”

Erybet sounded tired. “He’s right, Conyod. Talk to Sletran from where you are.”

Conyod stared at his Dramok in shock. The situation was ludicrous. Erybet knew Sletran would never harm him. But the look on Erybet’s face was firm, and Tudlu’s expression was even more uncompromising. They weren’t going to let him near his Nobek.

Conyod gave in with bad grace. “Fine. I’ll wake him from here if I can.” He gave Tudlu a hot glare, curling his lip back to show a fang. “Stop touching me.”

Tudlu lowered his arm. “I meant no insult, Imdiko.”

Conyod turned away, centering his attention on the still motionless Sletran. “Sletran. My Nobek, wake up.”

No response. Sletran stared at the compound like Conyod wasn’t even there.

Conyod tried insults. “Damn it, wake up you crack-skulled Nobek! Do you know what an idiot you look like? Wake up!”

Nothing. Conyod didn’t need anyone to tell him that eventually security was going to get tired of waiting. They’d take matters into their own hands, and Sletran could get hurt if his self-preservation snapped out of whatever hypnosis he was under.

Then again, Sletran’s self-preservation looked pretty much out of whack, considering he was surrounded by a dozen knife-wielding Nobeks and remained unaware of it.

That gave Conyod an idea. He warned the others, “Sletran’s going to want to protect me if this works. Stand back.”

Before anyone could stop him, he let some of his panic feed into his voice and called, “Sletran, it’s Conyod. Help me, my Nobek!”

Conyod saw an instant of wild desperation on Sletran’s face. The next instant Tudlu whirled away, hit hard by Sletran. Conyod didn’t get to see anything else before he was shoved down on the ground. He looked up to see Sletran standing over him in a defensive posture. The Nobek pushed Erybet behind them and twisted this way and that, keeping the security guards in sight. His growl was thunderous as he showed his fangs.

Conyod felt relief that the Nobek was finally awake, but the guards were closing in and they obviously meant business. “Put your knives away!” he yelled. “It’s okay, Sletran. Stand down. No one is threatening me.”

“No? Then why are they holding blades? Why did you yell?”

Erybet said, “You were sleepwalking again, and we couldn’t wake you up. You wandered into their territory, Sletran. You are trespassing.”

“We’re at fault here, not them. Stand down, damn it.” Conyod pushed at Sletran’s legs, making the now confused Nobek get out of the way so he could climb to his feet. His knees felt bruised.

Sletran was finally easing, his fangs folding back. He jerked in a graceless circle, looking all around. “Where – where are we? The Matara complex?” Horror filled his face. “By the ancestors, why am I here?”

“That’s a very good question, Nobek,” Tudlu said quietly, returning to face the clan. “Are you with us now? Are you willing to submit to a body search?”

Sletran blinked at him. He hunched in shame. “Yes.” He straightened and spread his arms and legs.

When the thorough frisk revealed Sletran had no weapons other than a very small knife tucked in one boot’s inner pouch, Tudlu addressed Erybet. “I’m satisfied for now that this is a case of trauma-induced sleepwalking and that no harm was intended. I’m willing to let this go for that reason, along with having seen the Imperial order of no engagement.”

“No engagement?”

Tudlu gave him a narrowed stare. “Law enforcement is not allowed to kill Sletran without having absolute proof of his intent to harm.”

Erybet and Sletran exchanged a look. “I’m not aware of any such order,” the Dramok said with obvious confusion.

“Registered by Emperor Bevau himself for both you and Nobek Sletran within the past week.” Tudlu cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m only a security officer, Dramok. I have every right to detain your clan, but I don’t want to tell Emperor Bevau why I had two of his finest placed in holding cells.”

“Thank you.”

“You realize, however, I will have to make a report to Global Security about this incident, due to the problems involving the Mataras. I’m sure they will have questions for your Nobek.”

Erybet nodded heavily. “Of course.”

“I must also inform you that if you or any member of your clan returns to the compound area without prior approval from the compound’s security office, we will have no choice but to assume hostile intentions. Imperial order or not, we will react as if it is a threat, Dramok. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are free to go. Once I hear from Global Security that they have cleared your Nobek of malicious intent, I will be contacting you for the information I need for my report.”

“Thank you.” Erybet sounded more like a man given a death sentence than one who’d dodged major trouble. “You have our contact information?”

“Yes, seeing as how you clanned a Matara who was here.” Tudlu’s eyes narrowed for an instant. He looked at Sletran, who had gone back to hovering protectively near Conyod. “I will arrange for transportation to take you home. I hope you will feel better soon, Nobek Sletran. I trust your clan will see to it you get the help you need before something truly terrible happens.”

“We will,” Conyod said. He aimed his glare at Erybet, but his Dramok didn’t look at him.

True to his word, Tudlu arranged for a security shuttle to take them home. Its lights flashed until it exited the tunnel that led out to the beach, and then the pilot turned them off to avoid attention and further embarrassment to the clan.

Except for the humble thanks Erybet offered as he disembarked, the clan was silent until they got into their home and found a wide awake Rachel waiting for them.

Chapter 16

Rachel stopped her nervous pacing the instant the men crossed the threshold of the greeting room. They also stopped short, seemingly surprised to see her up and waiting for them. Well, what did they expect? That she wouldn’t notice their absence, the comforting warmth that helped her sleep so soundly these days?

She scowled, unable to contain her anger now that she could stop worrying about what had taken them away in the middle of the night. In Kalquorian she demanded, “Where you go?”

Erybet’s devastated expression brought fear stabbing her heart. “Sletran had another episode. We followed him.”

All three were obviously upset. Conyod looked seriously pissed off and Sletran’s expression was as if he’d been sickened to his very soul. Rachel felt more scared than ever. “What? Where you go?”

Sletran’s head lowered. He peeked at her through the hair that fell forward to cover his face. “The unclanned Earther Matara complex.”

He whirled on the other two men, his face reddening in sudden anger. His voice was a low roar. “Now we know. I must be the killer. Why else would I be there?”

Conyod turned just as red. He yelled back, “You were not there to kill anyone.”

“Then why? What reason could I possibly have to lurk around where all those Earther women are?”

“I don’t know!” Their faces were only inches away now. Conyod fought for control and managed to speak in a steady tone, though there was still a raw undercurrent to it. “You are not a murderer. You will never convince me of that.”

Rachel’s thoughts were in a whirl. Sletran thought he might be the man killing Mataras? No, that made no sense, not when he beat himself up so bad for having let New Bethlehem’s slaughter happen.

She moved to stand at Conyod’s side, looking up at the shaking Nobek’s face. “You are good, Sletran. We be alone sometimes. You no hurt me.”

He closed his eyes. Pain sliced a path over his expression. “I would never hurt you, Ray-Ray. You are one of the few good things left to me.”

Erybet touched Sletran’s shoulder. “You have no idea why you went there? None at all?”

Sletran shuddered. “There is only one answer. Erybet, you know you have to turn me in for suspicion. You have to make this stop.”

Erybet closed his eyes. “Global Security has already sent officers to question us before this. The complex’s security is going to contact them. I have no doubt they’ll be here for you soon.”

Cops were coming for her Nobek? Rachel’s heart stuttered. She grabbed onto Sletran’s arm and clung to him fiercely. “No! You no do wrong. I am sure.”

He managed a semblance of a smile for her. He pulled free of her grasp so he could wrap his arm around her, pulling her tight against his body. “I’m not sure of that, Ray-Ray. But I am glad you have such faith in me, misplaced as it may be.” He gazed at their Dramok. “Erybet, I want to tell them everything when they take me away. I can’t live with this secret any longer.”

Erybet swallowed hard, but the compassion on his face told Rachel how much he cared for Sletran. “Yes, my Nobek. As your Dramok and commanding officer, I release you from our order of silence. I will meet with Emperor Bevau himself and explain my treason.”

Sletran drew in a great breath. Suddenly he relaxed. Relief replaced all the other hectic emotions that had filled his being. “Thank you so much, my Dramok. To have the burden lifted from me is worth any torture I face for my actions.”

Rachel’s heart skipped again. “Torture?”

All three men reacted, their expressions stunned. She barely noticed their stares, hardly registering she’d just spoken in English. Instead, her thoughts were centered on a dark place, a place where she hung chained from the ceiling, where unanswerable questions were shouted, where jeers and insults rang in her ears, where knives cut flesh, where shockwhips seared her nervous system, where fists pounded until her bones broke.

They couldn’t let that happen to Sletran. Not her big, strong, protecting Nobek who laughingly taught her to curse in his language.

She gripped him hard. “No. No torture. I would die before I let them hurt you.” Tears were coursing down her cheeks as she begged a wide-eyed Erybet, “Make him run away. Order him to go somewhere and hide so he’ll be safe!”

Sletran lifted her in his arms, bringing her up so she was face to face with him. He was smiling, his teeth bright in his dark face. “That you dare to speak your language again in my defense … that you care that much that you would overcome the pain you’ve been through … that you would do this for me … Rachel … my Matara…”

His mouth captured hers, enveloping it in soft, gentle kisses. Now that terror and love had opened her throat letting her speak again, Rachel couldn’t seem to stop the torrent of words that flooded out between his loving possessions. “I love you, Sletran. I know you didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t deserve to be hurt anymore. Please, don’t let them take you. Please, please, for my sake.”

“Don’t cry, my little Ray-Ray. No tears, sweetness. I’ll be all right. I know for a fact now that I’ll be all right.” He kissed her harder than ever, making her breathless and incapable of further protests for a moment.

The visitor announce buzzed through the room, jerking their lips apart. His voice filled with dread, Erybet called. “Who is it?”

A dark, dangerous voice answered. “Global Security. Open immediately.”

Erybet looked at Sletran. The Nobek nodded and set Rachel back on her feet. She burst into terrified tears, and Conyod pulled her away from Sletran, wrapping her in his arms. He looked as scared as she felt.

Erybet stood at Sletran’s side. His shoulders drawn back and head held high, the Dramok ordered, “Enter.”

The door opened and three Nobeks wearing black formsuits with red and silver insignias on their chests stepped in. The one in front, shorter than everyone but Rachel and exuding absolute authority, stepped right up to Sletran. His hand was on the blade sheathed in his belt. “Nobek Sletran, I assume you know why we're here.”

Sletran looked him in the eye without flinching. “Good day, Officer Breft. You’re here to arrest me.”

Breft raised an eyebrow at him. “Actually, that remains to be seen. Can you explain what you were doing at the unclanned Earther Matara complex?”

“No.”

The officers exchanged looks. Rachel swiped at the wetness on her cheeks. She had to be strong for her Nobek. She felt pride at his stoicism, but inside she quaked at what these big, dangerous cops could do to him.

One stepped forward to Breft’s side. He looked a little older than the rest, and he limped. He frowned deeply. “How many of these episodes have there been?”

Erybet answered that one. “That we know of? Half a dozen, perhaps.”

Sletran shook his head slightly. “More. There have been twenty-two times I woke on the beach or the marketplace with no idea how I got there.”

The elder officer’s brows knit together. “Did you ever wake with blood or injury on your body?”

“No.” Sletran pursed his lips and amended his answer. “Well, small scratches and bruises, but nothing of real note.”

Breft said, “You were on New Bethlehem.”

Something eased in Sletran’s face. “You know. Yes. It was my order that resulted in the massacre.”

Breft looked at him in silence for a moment, considering. Then he turned to Erybet. His tone apologetic, he said, “I'm sorry, Dramok. Unless you can account for your Nobek's whereabouts during his blackouts, I have no choice but to arrest him for suspicion of the Matara murders here on Kalquor.”

A muscle twitched in Erybet’s jaw, but otherwise he showed no reaction. “He will go with you peaceably.”

A big gorilla of an officer pulled a pair of cuffs from his belt. Rachel had a vision of that huge, dreadlocked Nobek beating on a helpless Sletran and couldn’t hold back. She jerked free of a silently weeping Conyod and threw herself between the officers and Sletran.

“No! Leave him alone!”

Sletran’s hands cupped her shoulders and rubbed reassuringly. “Ray-Ray, it's all right.”

In her panic, Rachel’s speech jumped back and forth between Kalquorian and English. She ranted at the officer in charge. “He no hurt Mataras. I know he's innocent. You no hurt Sletran!”

Breft held out a hand, indicating to the dreadlocked officer to wait. He needn’t have bothered. The huge man had halted the instant Rachel had jumped in front of Sletran. He actually looked at her with compassion, as if someone so big and scary could actually feel sorry for her fright.

“Hold a moment, Raxstad.” Breft looked to Erybet. “If I may speak to her, Dramok? I have an Earther Matara of my own, and I know how upset she’d be in her place.”

Erybet nodded, for all the good it did. Rachel wouldn’t let them take her Nobek to be tortured without a fight no matter what any of them said.

Breft got down on one knee before her, letting her look down on him in a pose so nonthreatening that she calmed a little bit. His voice gentle, the officer said, “Matara, as long as Sletran doesn't resist, we have no cause to harm him.”

Tears were beginning to spill once again, but Rachel paid them no heed. Let them imagine she was weak. They would be surprised.

She yelled at him, “You lie! You'll torture him to make him confess things he didn’t do! You'll beat him to make him say what you want to hear! I know what you cops do!”

Conyod said quietly, “She was in prison on Earth. Her experience doesn’t give her much ability to trust law enforcement.”

Breft winced. “I see. Then I will be completely honest with you, Matara Ray-Ray. Our methods of interrogation can be extreme, but only when the subject resists reasonable means and is found mentally stable. Sletran will be questioned, analyzed, hypnotized, and injected with truth-telling compounds in an effort to get to the facts. Other methods are of last resort.”

Sletran murmured, “Ray-Ray, I can't go on like this. I want to know whether or not I'm guilty.”

Her fists clenched. “You aren't! I know you're not!”

Breft leaned forward, looking her in the eye. “Ray-Ray, my first priority is to keep Mataras unharmed physically and even emotionally when I am able. My dedication to those principles includes you. That means in order to keep from hurting you in any way, I cannot harm Sletran nor allow him to be harmed while he is in my custody.”

Erybet reached to rub his thumb over her cheek, erasing her tears. “It will be all right, my Matara. I would not let them take him without a fight if I thought he was in danger.”

Breft added, “You can trust me with Sletran’s wellbeing. I swear it to you.”

She looked up at Erybet. “There’s no other way?”

He shook his head slowly. “If Sletran is innocent, they will discover it. This is the best way to establish that once and for all.”

She turned to face Sletran and sagged against him, sobbing into his chest. His hands stroked her short curls and he pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I have to do this, my love. As your Nobek, your safety means more than my life. If I am the monster who has been killing all those women–”

Rachel pushed against his chest, making a sound of protest. He cupped her face in his hands to make her look him in the eye. “No Ray-Ray, listen to me. You have to let me go. You have to let me protect my Matara.” He kissed her with passion, unmindful of the strangers in the room. “You have given me a reason to hope again. To live again. Let me see this through to the end.”

Rachel didn’t want to. Everything in her screamed to hold onto Sletran, to keep the officers from taking him. But he wanted to go. Even if it meant torture, she could tell her Nobek wanted to settle the matter once and for all.

Erupting into fresh sobs, she nodded. Reluctantly, she allowed Conyod and Erybet to pull her away.

Breft was on his feet once more and nodded to the biggest officer. Raxstad bowed to Rachel before approaching Sletran once more with the handcuffs. “Nobek, lie on the floor face down with your arms behind you.”

Sletran did as he was told. Rachel had to turn away when Raxstad and the other Nobek named Lidon held him helpless, one man’s knee between Sletran’s shoulder blades and the other’s knee planted against his lower back. She buried her face against her Dramok and Imdiko, holding fistfuls of their formsuits in her grip.

Erybet’s chest rumbled against her ear. “Where shall we go?”

Breft said, “Global Security's main headquarters. You can follow us there. I'll com ahead for your docking and visiting clearance.”

“Thank you.”

Rachel dared to look back when Raxstad said, “Get your knees up under you, Sletran. There you are.” He and Lidon helped the now cuffed Sletran to his feet.

Rachel knew their solicitude was probably for her benefit, that they’d never treat a suspected murderer with such politeness. She hoped it wasn’t window dressing that would fall into brutality the instant they had Sletran out of her sight.

Raxstad and Lidon began to lead Sletran away. The limping Nobek looked at her as they went to the door and said, “'The greatest measure of a man is how he is loved by others.' If your love is any indication, perhaps your Nobek will be soon returned to you.”

Sletran also looked at her as he entered the transport. He smiled at her encouragingly. Breft bowed to her and got in the transport with the rest.

“We ask you to hurry to the dock so we can be on our way.”

With that, the door closed, shutting off Rachel’s view of her still smiling Sletran. Her legs shook beneath her, threatening to spill her to the floor.

Before she could fall in her agony, Erybet picked her up and sped her to the sleeping room. Conyod was right behind him and opened the closet, grabbing a dress while Erybet flung off her robe.

“Let’s get you dressed quickly, Ray-Ray. I don’t want them leaving without us.”

She never spared a second for her hair or worrying about how bed-rumpled she might look. In seconds, she had the dress on and was shoving her feet into a pair of slippers. Her chest felt as if it yawned wide, a big empty hole planted in the middle of it. She knew she wouldn't feel right until she saw Sletran again, safe and unharmed.

* * * *

Upon reaching Global Security’s headquarters, Breft led Erybet, Conyod, and Rachel to his office while the other two officers took Sletran to be processed. What Rachel saw of Global Security was clean, utilitarian hallways and offices, with mostly Nobek men to-ing and fro-ing with purpose. They carried themselves with pride, and almost no one dawdled for gossip as far as she could see. Every one of the officers dipped their heads to her in quick respect as they passed by.

It was still a police station, for all intents and purposes. Just before they reached Breft’s office, the hallway they traveled opened up into a large space. There, five officers had three men held helpless in hovercuffs on their wrists and ankles. Everyone in that group including the officers looked battered, as if they’d either been in a crash or one hell of a fight. Rachel was betting on the fight option. The captured men’s wrists were connected behind their backs, and their feet hovered several inches off the floor. They all stood at a long desk where, from Rachel’s limited knowledge of Kalquorian, she discerned their personal information was gathered and inputted into computers.

It looked nothing like the police station in which Rachel had been booked, processed, and scanned, but she knew this was the alien version of that. The small hairs on the back of her neck rose.

She remained on edge until they reached Breft’s office. Though she could still see ‘booking’ or whatever they called it here, Breft’s private workspace was not quite as intimidating as the rest of the place. The clear surface of his desk was tidy. Only the flat rectangle of a computer lay there. Over it floated a vid covered with the hieroglyphics that served as the Kalquorian written language. Raised seats, six of them, were arranged in a semi-circle on one side of the desk, while a hover chair floated on the other. A padded bench lined one wall. Vids directly behind Breft’s chair showed numerous shield-like icons with inscriptions floating over them. Rachel guessed they might be awards and commendations.

She glanced at a painting – a real painting and not a vid – hanging on the wall to her right as she settled in one of the chairs between Conyod and Erybet. It showed a forest with rainbow-hued leaves. A tree on one side had a rope or cord or something of the sort tied to it. The painting was gorgeous, almost lifelike enough that Rachel felt she could step into it. It also seemed fraught with hidden meaning. Rachel’s eyes kept going to that rope, one end trailing across the soft soiled forest floor and knotted into a loop. She wondered what, or who, had been tied to the tree.

Even more interesting to her was the vid still photo on the wall to her left. A gorgeous redhead smiled from the portrait, and she held two children on her lap. A boy and girl, looking to be the same age of perhaps two or three years, laughed at whoever had taken the picture. Their glossy curls were dark with auburn highlights, and their eyes were pure Kalquorian purple in their bronze faces.

Rachel wondered how the children she might have with her clan would look. She wondered if Sletran would have the chance to be the father of those children, or if he’d be locked away from her forever.

She asked Breft, who had settled into his hover chair, “Your family?”

He looked at the vid, and his tight expression softened. “Yes. I am very fortunate with my Matara and children. They are wonderful.”

The hint of a smile that played around his lips made Rachel feel a little better about him. He didn’t seem like someone who would torture a person just to hear them scream.

He turned back to them and his demeanor was that of polite business. “Let's talk about what's going to happen at this point. Maybe it will set your minds at ease.”

Erybet drew a shuddering breath. “Thank you. I appreciate the kindness.”

“Not at all.” Breft eyed him carefully. “You and Sletran have been my prime suspects for a few days now. Much of the evidence we've found points to your clan.” He looked over at Conyod. “Imdiko, when was the last time Sletran was around your family's home or your stables?”

Conyod started at the question. “Four days ago. Why?”

“The last Matara we found, the one on the beach, had kestarsh hairs on her. That was three days ago.”

Conyod’s face went pale as death, and for an instant, Rachel thought he might faint. She jumped to her feet. “No!” English failed her at that point, leaving her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She was forced to speak in halting Kalquorian. “Sletran no do it!”

Erybet and Conyod both stood and put their arms around her. They gently forced her to sit back down.

While Conyod petted her and murmured soft reassurances, Erybet flicked his gaze towards Breft. “My apologies, Officer.” He sounded anything but apologetic.

Breft sighed unhappily. “None are required. This is upsetting news, and I expect for you all to have emotional reactions.”

He bowed his head and considered. “We’re going to run DNA tests on Sletran. We have the killer’s profile, but nothing to match it to. Doing all this will take a few hours. Meanwhile, we are going to keep his arrest as quiet as possible for as long as we can. Suspicion Sletran could be the killer would incite some to make an attempt on his life. If his involvement in the New Bethlehem matter comes to light, we could have a full-scale riot on our hands.”

Erybet said, “He wants it made public. He wants Kalquor to know he gave the command.”

Breft shook his head. “You know he will likely be killed, no matter how well we guard him. Even if DNA results exonerate him of the murders here, there are still too many who want justice for those women and children on New Bethlehem.”

Erybet rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. To Rachel, he looked like he’d suddenly aged ten years. “I know his involvement going public will get him attacked. The secrecy is destroying him though. Me too, though not quite as fast or as spectacularly.” He sighed. “After all, I gave him the go ahead to destroy that building. I'm as much to blame as he is. We must tell our story.”

“You'll be courtmartialed you know. You are under orders.”

The Dramok snorted. “That is the least of my worries.” Dismissing Breft, he turned to Rachel and Conyod. “You were right, my Imdiko. About everything. I'm sorry, Ray-Ray. I shouldn't have clanned you. You didn’t deserve to be dragged into this.”

Conyod’s arm lay across Rachel’s shoulders. It lifted slightly as he reached to squeeze Erybet’s arm. Rachel took the Dramok’s hand and she squeezed too. English was still getting stuck in her throat, so she told him in Kalquorian, “You are good man. You do what is right. I am proud to be your Matara.”

He smiled at that, and lifted her hand to press his lips to it. Rachel returned the smile, fierce intent beating in her heart. No matter what, no matter how bad it got, she wouldn't leave their sides. After all, she was used to fighting lost causes.

* * * *

Erybet warmed his chilled soul in the regard of his Imdiko and Matara. For whatever reason, they remained loyal to him. After all the mistakes he’d made; first not telling Conyod what had happened to him and Sletran, then blindly following orders that kept him from getting help for his Nobek, and finally clanning Rachel before getting their lives in order; after all that, they still supported him. Believed in him as their Dramok. By the ancestors, he didn’t deserve these people.

A deep voice calling his name interrupted his thoughts. “Commander Erybet?”

Everyone in Breft’s office looked out the door to the admitting area. A big, scarred Nobek was being floated in by three officers, his powerful body held helpless by hovercuffs. His eyes were bright purple, the pupils thin slits that could barely be seen. He didn’t look angry or sexually aroused, but his fangs had descended. Erybet knew the drug use that produced such effects were the least of this man’s problems. Global Security didn’t concern themselves with addicts.

Erybet rose and went to the door. “Hello, Ubnal. It looks like you've found yourself some trouble.” He stared at the Nobek in horror. Ubnal bore very little resemblance to the strong, proud soldier he’d known.

The Nobek who’d been one of Sletran’s best foot soldiers grinned around his fangs. His tongue lolled out, dripping saliva on the floor. He pulled his tongue back into his mouth with effort and worked hard to form words. “Nothing but trouble since New Bethlehem, Commander.”

One of the arresting officers snorted. “Big trouble now that you’ve moved from dealing drugs into the big leagues. Stealing explosives from the armory is going to put you away for a very long time.”

Ubnal grinned at the officer. One eye leaked a tear. “That’s nothing compared to what I did before I came home.”

Breft was at Erybet’s shoulder. “You were at New Bethlehem? With Commander Erybet?”

Ubnal’s head rolled back so he stared at the ceiling. “That's right. Hell and glory … minus the glory part, right Commander?”

“He served directly under Sletran. One of our best.” Erybet was forced to wonder if someone like Ubnal was in such bad shape, how were the rest of his men? His orders had forbade him to talk to any of them, except his own Nobek.

Ubnal continued to talk to the ceiling. “Proud of being one of Commander Erybet's soldiers. He's a Dramok, but he knows how to fight a war. Don’t you dare fuck with him, because I’ll kick your ass if he doesn’t do it first.” He laughed, a high, screamy sound that made everyone in hearing distance pause. “I’ll kick your asses, like the shit after the war kicked ours.”

Erybet was shaking. His mind repeated over and over, How many others? How many others?

Ubnal laughed again. “Not your fault, Commander. Nor Commander Sletran's. Is he here?”

Erybet wasn’t sure how it was his lips moved, as he couldn’t think how to use them. “He's around.”

Breft’s eyes were narrowed as he went up to the prisoner, pulling him down and grabbing his chin so Ubnal was forced to look at him. “I want to know something, Nobek Ubnal. I have a very important question to ask you, so I need you to concentrate hard. Based on what you saw, how did Sletran feel about the massacre?”

Ubnal drooled on Breft’s hand. “How we all felt, you stupid shit. Like we'd murdered our own mothers and children. High Commander Akrij should never have countermanded his order to abort the mission.”

Erybet’s world slammed to a halt. He didn’t remember moving; he was suddenly shoving Breft away and grabbing Ubnal’s face in both hands, making the man look at him.

“It’s all right, let him do this,” Breft said from right behind him. Erybet barely noticed that the officers who had been reaching for him immediately stepped back. All his attention was on the drugged Nobek in front of him.

“What do you mean, Akrij countermanded Sletran's order?”

Ubnal struggled to focus on him. He blinked slowly and Erybet had the urge to slap him until he answered. Fortunately, some of the dazedness left the man’s eyes. “You didn't know? When Commander Sletran commed the order to abort, that there were women and children in the building, the high commander told Wen the target was confirmed and to set off the explosives.”

Erybet felt the earth beneath him shift. “And then?”

Ubnal shrugged. “Wen couldn't disobey a direct order from the high commander, could he? The poor bastard killed himself a month after we got back, you know. I found out because he commed me a message just before he did it. Disobeyed the no-contact orders, but no one can bring him up on charges now.”

“I didn't know he died.” Erybet wanted the room to stop rocking around him. It was making him nauseous.

Ubnal smiled tiredly. “Damned shame. He was a good fighter. You know, we should have all died on New Bethlehem.”

The Nobek lost consciousness, as whatever he’d ingested overwhelmed his system. Erybet was only dimly aware of Breft taking his arm and leading him back into his office, where wide-eyed Conyod and Rachel waited to wrap their arms around him.

Erybet stared at Rachel. She’d warned him someone had deliberately set Sletran up. She’d been right.

But why?

Breft’s voice brought him back a moment later. Erybet was still standing, though now he was in front of the officer’s desk. His clanmates were holding onto him, their faces worried as they looked at him. Breft sat across from them behind his desk once more.

Erybet forced his stunned mind to kick back into gear. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Patiently, Breft repeated, “It sounds like you and your Nobek weren't directly to blame for the slaughter after all.”

Erybet simply looked at him. He couldn’t find a response to that.

Breft waited a moment, then spoke again. “I’ve met Akrij. In fact, I questioned him and his Dramok about you after Matara Maria disappeared. What was a high commander doing on the ground as part of an attack group?”

“He likes to be in the thick of things. He fights at his men’s sides when possible. That day, Sletran led one team, and he led the other. But Sletran was left in command of the group.”

Erybet’s responses were on automatic pilot. His mind churned, turning over everything he knew about the attack.

It had been Akrij who the informants and the spies in charge of confirming all information reported to. Erybet had never spoken to those people. No one but Akrij did. Their names were not known to anyone else.

It had been Akrij who had given Erybet the green light to plan the attack on the building. He had told him and Sletran that it was the headquarters of the last remnants of the Earther resistance. That they had to utterly destroy the enemy, make an example of them. The insurgents had killed too many, including their own people. No shockwaves to immobilize them for capture. No prisoners, because their sentence of execution had been passed. The murderers would die in their lair.

And afterward, when all those innocent people had died, it was Akrij who had told him he and Sletran were not to speak of what had happened to anyone under any circumstances. That they would not even have contact with their own men, lest something slip out in the wrong company. They were told to go home and recover.

It was all there right in front of Erybet, and yet he still couldn’t fathom it. Akrij was the best high commander in the military, second only to the Imperial Commander. Everyone knew his bravery and loyalty were unmatched. His men loved him with the fierceness of those who would lay down their lives for such a leader.

Raxstad poked his head in the door. He told Breft, “You've got visitors. Emperors Bevau and Clajak.”

Erybet’s blood ran cold at his words. Imperial Commander Bevau would learn he’d committed treason by admitting the whole horrible affair at New Bethlehem. While Erybet could have cared less about being arrested by the military police and brought up on charges, he didn’t want that to happen now. Not when Sletran needed him. Because when the Nobek found out Akrij might have betrayed them, might have actually knowingly had them kill those innocents…

Through the roar in his ears, he heard Breft say, “Go ahead and show the emperors in. Erybet, your clan can stay. I want the emperors to hear what has been going on from your end of things.”

Raxstad had more to report. “Sletran's asking to go ahead with hypnosis so we can find out what he's been up to during his blank periods.”

Breft eyed Erybet. “Dramok?”

The mention of his Nobek’s name had cut through some of the chaos in Erybet’s head. He nodded. “That's fine. If he’s willing to do it, I give leave.”

Raxstad said, “I'll have someone come in from the hospital.”

Breft said, “Get Lidon's Imdiko, if you can. He's certified, plus he's used to military protocols and mindsets.”

“He’s kind of – funny, don’t you think?”

Breft arched a brow. “He’s professional when it’s called for. I’m sure Degorsk will appreciate the gravity of the situation, but you can have Lidon remind him of it.”

Raxstad jerked a nod and looked at Rachel. “Your Nobek is doing fine, Matara. He's being very cooperative.”

Rachel gave him a surprised look. Erybet knew she didn’t trust enforcement officers, and every time one was nice to her, she seemed unsettled. However she did manage a graceful, “Thank you.”

The big Nobek left. Erybet stood there, looking at nothing.

Akrij…

Conyod tugged on his arm. “Erybet, sit down. You're in shock.”

He stared at his Imdiko. “Akrij went on with the attack even though Sletran was screaming there were women and children in the building. He let us think—”

He couldn’t finish the sentence. Akrij had let them think that there had been a com breakdown on his end that kept him from aborting the attack. He’d shut up everyone to keep them from discussing it. Sletran had been blaming himself all this time. Erybet had kept silent, not just because of the order to do so, but because if the public knew Sletran had been in direct, physical command of the men who’d killed so many women and children, he’d be lynched.

Akrij.

Conyod pushed Erybet into a chair. “Sit. Everything is going to be all right.”

Erybet was awash in sudden, impotent rage. His Nobek had suffered horribly and for no good reason. His mental health had disintegrated, perhaps to the point of lashing out at others. Maybe Sletran was the Beast of New Bethlehem after all, madness taking away all the goodness he’d once possessed. All because they’d trusted a man who had fought at their sides, who’d promised time and again he’d take care of them and keep them safe.

At this moment, Erybet couldn't imagine how anything would ever be all right again.

Chapter 17

Imdiko Degorsk was used to not being taken seriously by those who were little more than acquaintances. When stressed, he reacted one of two ways: by cursing profusely and hurling insults, or more often by joking. His conduct usually left others confused or irritated, especially the fierce Nobek breed. That he’d been specifically requested by Breft to hypnotize and question a suspected mass murderer was gratifying. Not to mention unsettling. He’d had no idea his Nobek’s superior officer was so impressed with him.

He’d even been granted immediate entry into Global Security simply by showing up. The guard at the entrance had barely looked at his identification, overriding the computer system to speed him through. Someone was in a hurry to close the case that had kept Lidon working long hours for the last few months.

Degorsk could well understand the haste. Mataras were dying.

He found the interrogation wing and was directed down a utilitarian hall. Lidon stood by one open doorway, and out of habit, Degorsk looked over his stance to see if he favored his scarred leg. Of course the Nobek missed nothing. He raised an eyebrow at Degorsk, eliciting a grin. A dozen teasing remarks leapt to the Imdiko’s tongue, but for once he kept them to himself. He’d never embarrass his clanmate at work unless Lidon deserved it.

Lidon was all business as Degorsk drew near. “Did you go over his file?”

The lean-muscled Imdiko scowled in mock disapproval. “What little bit was in it. Such a fountain of knowledge you offered me.” He tossed his waist-length braid back and worried openly. “I work with his Imdiko, Lidon. Dr. Conyod is one of my superiors. Should I be involved?”

“Breft wanted you.” There was a note of pride in Lidon’s voice. “Sletran's military, and more likely to trust another former military.”

The respect accorded his abilities stroked Degorsk’s ego, and he pushed it away firmly. Jokester or not, he took his duties seriously. “I'm not happy about this,” he told his clanmate. And he wasn’t. He liked Conyod immensely. The senior psychologist always made time for the still-interning Degorsk’s questions. Plus he laughed at his jokes.

Lidon didn’t remark on his protest. He simply looked at him and waited.

With a long-suffering sigh, Degorsk stepped into the interrogation room. He found Nobek Sletran sitting at a simple table, his cuffed wrists immobilized on its surface. The supposed killer was a big man, tall and muscular. He had an aura of patient anticipation. The expression on his face as he looked Degorsk over was even pleasant, though the typical predatory undercurrent of a typical Nobek shimmered below the surface.

Degorsk nodded to him and sat in the low-backed seat across from him. “Hello, Commander Sletran. I'm Dr. Degorsk.”

The man’s low rumble had warmth to it. “Conyod has mentioned you.”

Degorsk laced his fingers together on the table surface and leaned forward in a friendly manner. “I trust you won't hold anything he's said against me?”

Sletran blinked. “Conyod has been quite complimentary in his remarks about you, Doctor. He says he wishes there were twenty more of you working with the Mataras.”

Degorsk sighed. Nobeks were so damned serious. “That was a joke.”

“Ah.”

Lidon came in to stand at the end of the table. “Excuse my Imdiko, Sletran. He thinks he's funny.”

As Degorsk scowled, Sletran said, “Your Imdiko?” He looked at the doctor with more interest. “You were also military?”

Good. They were establishing a rapport, common ground. Degorsk told him, “We were assigned to a spyship, though we both had experience on board destroyers.” He cut his gaze to his Nobek. “And I am funny, Lidon. I'm hilarious.”

“So you say.”

With a snort, Degorsk dismissed him. He was pleased to see Sletran looked a bit amused with the exchange. Relaxing the Nobek was important. “So, my understanding is you hope to discover your missing time, which will show you aren't behind these murders?”

Sletran surprised him by shaking his head. “I don’t want to be the murderer, but more than that, I want to know the truth. Whatever it is.”

“Even if it proves your guilt?”

Sletran leaned forward, as if to take Degorsk into his confidences. He asked, “Do you have a Matara, Doctor?”

Degorsk felt a frown, but kept his expression pleasant. He had no idea where Sletran was going with such a question. “Yes I do.”

A definite smile curled the prisoner’s lips. “I too have been blessed with a mate. Her name is Rachel.”

“I heard about your clan's good fortune. I haven't seen Dr. Conyod to congratulate him yet. Matara Ray-Ray is an amazing woman. She was kind enough to allow me to do a case study on her for my training.”

Sletran’s smile faded. “If I am … what I fear I am, then my Matara's life is in danger.” He closed his eyes, wincing as if in pain. “And not just hers. No more can die because of me, Doctor. It has to stop.”

He opened his eyes again to stare intently at Degorsk. “I need you to help me find out the truth. I want to know if I'm the monster who terrorizes these poor women.”

Degorsk nodded, fascinated despite his concerns about being the one who might uncover terrible secrets. “All right, Sletran. Let's find out.”

* * * *

Rachel had not expected to meet royalty in her lifetime, not someone of her modest background. Yet here she sat, watching Nobek Emperor Bevau pace the floor while Dramok Emperor Clajak sat on the bench by the wall. Had she not been so worried about Sletran, she might have been nervous encountering the rulers of an entire empire. She had no idea what was deemed respectful to Kalquorian monarchs. When they’d entered, she’d risen from her chair along with Erybet and Conyod. As she’d stood there, wondering if she should bow to the emperors as her clanmates did, she’d been shocked when they bowed to her. Deeply and respectfully, as if she was the ranking member of the room.

Now her eyes moved with the incredibly gorgeous Bevau as he shook with anger and tried to take it out on the floor by walking it to death. The space in Breft’s office was tight enough that he was forced to pace almost in a circle. It was Emperor Clajak who supposedly had the quick temper, but the man with steel-colored hair watched quietly, albeit with a deep frown, as Bevau raged.

Spittle flew from the Nobek emperor’s snarling mouth. “Akrij countermanded Sletran's order to abort the attack? That wasn't in any of the reports I received or the interviews I conducted with him. Akrij told me the com link was distorted with interference and that he never got the command.”

Breft asked quietly, “Are you sure without having the reports in front of you, my emperor?”

Bevau rounded on him. “New Bethlehem was not just a scandal, Breft. It was a travesty. Every word of every file to do with it is burned in my brain.”

Fury equal to that of the emperor’s boiled from Conyod. “If it hadn't been kept such a secret, you would have known the truth already.”

Bevau glared at him. “At what cost? Until Akrij’s complicity was discovered, your clanmates and their men would have been in danger, Imdiko. The troops who were unfortunate enough to have been a part of it would have all been lynched by our outraged population.”

Erybet quoted Ubnal’s earlier assertion. “We should have all died on New Bethlehem.”

Rachel’s blood chilled at the lifeless sound of his voice.

Bevau’s anger lifted enough for profound regret to enter his expression. “Erybet, that's not true. I am so sorry you and Sletran were made to suffer the way you have. I only wanted to protect you.” His face darkened again. “I thought that's what Akrij wanted too when he insisted on the gag order.”

Emperor Clajak’s tone was icy with rage. “He was looking to save his own ass, if you ask me. What I can’t understand is why he wanted to kill those people.”

Bevau’s jaw clenched. “He will be brought up on charges. I swear it.”

They all came to attention as Lidon stepped into the room. He was followed by Dr. Degorsk, one of Rachel’s favorite doctors from the hospital. The gentle therapist who had made her laugh some of her bleakest moments away looked into the crowded room and settled for standing in the doorway.

“So this is where all the elite hang out,” he grinned as he bowed to the royal pair. When he got glares in return, he flushed. “Apologies for any disrespect, my emperors. I'm a little flustered after my session with Nobek Sletran.”

That comment made Erybet, Rachel, and Conyod rise to their feet. Her fists clenched at her sides, Rachel stared at the Imdiko, hoping against hope.

Behind her, Breft said, “What did you find?”

Degorsk looked at Rachel. His smile eased the pounding of her heart a touch. “In my opinion, you've arrested the wrong man for the Matara murders.”

Rachel burst into relieved tears. Conyod covered his face with his hands, and Erybet fell into his chair as his knees gave out.

His voice muffled behind his palms, Conyod moaned, “I knew he wasn’t guilty. I knew it. My Nobek would never hurt any innocent.”

After giving them a moment to get past the first rush of emotion, Breft said, “Quiet, everyone. Please continue, Dr. Degorsk.”

Rachel made herself calm so she could hear the doctor’s report. Degorsk said, “During his blackouts, Sletran has been going to places where the Earther Mataras congregate, especially when something happens that reminds him of New Bethlehem. He usually ends up at the marketplace, the complex, or the beach. But he's not stalking those women. He's trying to protect them.”

Emperor Bevau’s brows drew together. “Protect them? From what?”

“From danger. Nothing specific.” Degorsk nodded at their confusion. “The events of New Bethlehem and his part in them are driving Sletran to stand guard over the Mataras. The part of him that feels so much guilt over the massacre is trying to find redemption. He’s unconsciously driven to play guardian.”

Conyod’s hands had dropped from his face. His cheeks were shiny with tears. “He never could stand by and watch the helpless be hurt.”

Degorsk smiled at him. “Due to the secrecy surrounding the event, Sletran can't overtly make amends for the slaughter. His subconscious, however, is driving him to find avenues where he can keep an eye on those he's deemed at risk.”

“Typical Sletran.”

Degorsk sobered as he looked at Conyod. “I know I'm still just an intern on the psychiatric team, but I feel I must speak frankly. If you'll excuse the forwardness, I believe you should remand him to the hospital for testing and to develop a therapeutic plan for his recovery. He's been badly traumatized, and it's not something that will get better with time. He needs professional help.”

Erybet’s voice was thick with emotion. “Conyod knows that, Doctor. He's been telling me that ever since we got back.”

Conyod looked at his Dramok with gentleness. “You'd benefit from analysis and therapy yourself.”

Degorsk said, “Conyod, I'd like to speak to Sletran more, if I may? I know I’ve concentrated my work on the Mataras—”

Lidon spoke up. “Sletran connected well with Degorsk. I think my Imdiko’s experience in the military helped Sletran relate easier to him than he would with just any therapist.”

Conyod nodded to Erybet, who said, “Please Dr. Degorsk, by all means.”

Breft inclined his head. “Thank you, Degorsk. Your help has been invaluable.”

Degorsk bowed to everyone and left. Lidon stepped forward to Erybet’s clan with a handful of items. “Here are belongings Sletran can’t keep while he’s here.”

Rachel had pockets in her dress, and she took Sletran’s things, wanting something of him close until she saw him again. His com unit and a small knife were tucked away carefully.

She looked to Breft, concerned that nothing had been said about Sletran’s release now that they knew he wasn’t the killer. “Sletran come home?”

“I'm sorry, Matara. I can't sanction that yet for a few reasons: first, there is the evidence that continues to point to your Nobek. We need the results on our DNA tests that will fully exonerate him.”

Rachel opened her mouth, angry words ready to pour forth. Breft stopped her by holding up a hand. “Most importantly, he's safer here than anywhere else. If word gets out we brought him in for questioning concerning the killings – or the New Bethlehem issue – his life will be in danger.”

Rachel snapped her mouth shut. Damn it, she wanted her Nobek! But she also wanted him safe. She looked to Erybet for guidance.

The Dramok asked, “How long will you keep him? You don't have any other suspects, do you?”

Instead of answering him, Breft turned his gaze to Bevau. “My emperor, I realize the falsified reports and actions in regards to New Bethlehem are a military matter, but I still have a murderer to catch.”

Bevau jerked a nod. “When I found out you'd arrested Sletran, the first thing I did was com Akrij to tell him. As Sletran's commanding officer, he probably won't be surprised to see you at his doorstep.”

Breft looked to Lidon. “Get Raxstad. I want High Commander Akrij picked up and brought in for questioning regarding the Beast of New Bethlehem murders. For that matter, collect the rest of his clan and bring them in too.”

Erybet gasped. “You don't think he—”

“I only wish to ask him a few questions. It could be he is as innocent as Sletran, but he may have seen or heard something that will lead us to the killer.”

Clajak asked, “Why his clanmates?”

Bevau answered that one. “Because Akrij knowingly gave the order that killed more than two dozen women and children. It takes a badly unbalanced mind to do such a thing, and his Dramok and Imdiko may have seen something amiss with him.”

Breft’s eyes had gone dark. “If I don't like Akrij’s answers about that affair as well as what's happening here, I'd certainly like to find out what they know.”

Rachel’s head swam with this latest development. Did Breft actually suspect Dr. Kivokan's Nobek, the man Erybet and Sletran trusted? And he thought Kivokan himself might know something too?

Next to her, Erybet shook. His voice was shaking too as he asked, “Is there any way I could be present for the questioning?”

Breft considered him a moment before answering. “Not of Akrij. I don't want an incident, and you're clearly angry.” The officer smiled grimly. “As is expected. However, you may observe his Dramok and Imdiko's interviews as long as you can remain in control of yourself.”

Erybet took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Rachel tried to talk, but her ability to speak her own language had deserted her once more. Oh well, she should speak the language of her adopted planet anyway. “When see Sletran?”

Conyod’s arm squeezed her shoulders. “I'm eager to see him too, but I'd like to give Degorsk some time with him. Sletran needs to talk to someone not caught up in our situation.” He looked to Erybet, whose face was intent as he stared at the floor. Conyod frowned, clearly not liking what he was seeing. “With your permission my Dramok, I'd like to drop by the hospital's psychiatric wing. I want to arrange for a room and Nobek specialist for Sletran's therapy.”

Bevau spoke up. “We have excellent facilities for members of the military.”

Conyod barely restrained a snarl as he looked up at the Nobek emperor. He snapped, “I've had my fill of the military taking care of my clanmates.”

Erybet straightened and began to admonish his Imdiko. “Conyod—”

Bevau waved him off. “It's all right, Erybet. I know better than to cross an Imdiko who's been pushed too far. Our gentlest breed can turn quite vicious when it comes to taking care of clanmates.” He exchanged a look with Clajak and the two men snickered. Breft looked away, but Rachel saw his smirk. She looked at Conyod with surprise. Her Imdiko, vicious?

Conyod blushed. “I meant no disrespect, my emperor,” he said in a small voice.

Bevau looked at Erybet for permission before reaching to place a hand on the Imdiko’s shoulder. “Think nothing of it, Conyod. You have every right to your anger.” He grimaced. “I feel I owe you an apology for returning your Nobek in the condition he's in. Make the arrangements that suit you, and I’ll sign off on them myself.”

“Thank you, my emperor.”

Breft’s expression was serious again. “Since we may have to keep Sletran here for a few days until this blows over, feel free to bring him whatever you think will make him comfortable. I’ll get you a list of approved items.”

Conyod nodded. “Of course.” He rose to leave.

Erybet kissed Rachel’s cheek and prodded her to stand too. “Go with Conyod, Ray-Ray. By the time you get back, you can probably visit Sletran.”

Rachel was reluctant to go. She really wanted to see Sletran, but it wasn’t because she was terrified he’d be hurt. It was funny, but she actually thought the supposedly fierce Kalquorians, even the Nobeks – even their police – were somewhat caring people. No one wanted to hurt Sletran, at least not the ones who knew his story. So much for Kalquorian savagery and the brutality they supposedly used on their captives.

No, she only wanted to visit her mate simply because it would feel good to do so. But with Erybet’s assurance she might see Sletran when they got back, she thought she could postpone that joy. A long way from the terrified and angry woman she’d been when she walked into the place, she took Conyod’s hand, accepted the bows all the other men in the room gave her, and left.

* * * *

Conyod was quiet as he and Rachel stepped into the clan’s home. He’d been that way since they’d left the hospital, and she let him have his silence, knowing he was struggling.

They’d gone to the hospital first to look into the resources for Sletran. The place was abuzz as people tried to figure out why Global Security had escorted Dr. Kivokan from the psychiatric wing. Conyod and Rachel had pretended surprise, but the Imdiko had thought it necessary to drop in on Dr. Govi to apprise him of the goings-on. Since Raxstad was Govi’s Nobek, a revelation that had surprised Rachel to no end, Conyod figured it would be safe enough to share the whole story with his superior.

A surprise had been waiting for Conyod when he and Rachel had been granted entrance into Govi’s office. An older psychiatrist, Imdiko Hupsan, was there. It turned out he’d been Conyod’s personal therapist when her clanmate was a boy. He’d come to the hospital, hoping to speak with Conyod.

Everyone sat down. Hupsan was brought up to speed, as was Govi. The startled exclamations rang in the room, along with apologies to Rachel for some of the language they used. She’d waved them off, having been taught some of the fouler terms by Sletran already. She’d been more interested in how Conyod seemed to relax as he shared his pain of the last months, as well as his anger over how things had gotten so out of control for his Nobek.

“So I’m going over to the Nobek psychiatric wing to see what can be done for my clanmate,” he finished up. “I’m hoping they’ll have space for him as soon as Global Security lets him go.”

Govi said quietly, “I don’t think the hospital is the place for Sletran. I think a facility, one that serves entire clans in trouble, would be more appropriate.”

Conyod blinked. “Well, Erybet definitely needs some intervention as well—”

“You all do,” Hupsan interrupted. His expression as he looked at Conyod was kind. “We discussed whole clan counseling, though at the time I didn’t realize just how big the problem was. Intensive live-in therapy is called for in this instance for every one of you. You are in great trouble yourself, Conyod. The stress of the last year – even before, when you couldn’t contact Erybet and Sletran while they were on New Bethlehem – has been monumental. If you don’t get help, I fear you will shake apart even as your clanmates recover.”

Govi nodded. “He’s right. We’re a sensitive breed, which serves our clans well. But we tend to forget our own needs in deference to our clanmates. We often don’t see the damage we’ve been dealt until we’re in crisis.”

“I’m not in crisis. I’m fine now that I finally know what’s going on,” Conyod hotly protested.

“You feel fine because you’re angry and there’s a problem to solve. Once everyone else is taken care of, it’s all going to come crashing down on your head.” Govi frowned. “It’s not a weakness to accept help, Conyod. You know that better than most.”

“But, but there’s Rachel.” Conyod looked at her, his gaze searching. “She’s thriving. Today has been stressful, but things are beginning to work out. You are okay?”

Rachel nodded. She was even capable of speaking normally once more. “I’m still worried about Sletran, but once he’s been completely cleared of the charges, I’ll be fine.”

Govi found a smile. “I simply can’t get enough of hearing you talk, Ray-Ray, whether it’s Kalquorian or your native language. When I think of the shattered, silent young woman who was brought here not so long ago and how far you’ve come, it makes me feel good.”

He turned to Conyod again. “There is no doubt Rachel’s progress is ongoing. But she now belongs to a clan struggling to find itself. To re-invent itself actually, since none of you will ever be the same after all you’ve been through. She needs to know exactly what is going on with all of you and how to help you live with the trauma you’ve suffered.”

Hupsan was adamant. “You’ve got to let go of the reins, Conyod. This is more than you can fix, especially since you’re as broken in your own way as your clanmates.”

Conyod had nothing to say to that. Rachel took his hand, offering what little comfort she could.

Govi typed some notes on his computer. “I’m going to call around and see what I can find. You said Bevau offered to sign off on whatever Sletran needed. Since what he needs is the best possible care and his clanmates to share in it, that’s exactly what I’ll arrange for the lot of you.”

“The emperor may not appreciate that,” Conyod said.

“No, but neither does Bevau appreciate Clajak berating him, which is what will happen if he doesn’t follow through.” Govi grinned at Rachel. “My Dramok is Emperor Clajak’s personal aide. He knows exactly how to push his buttons in matters like this.”

Rachel’s eyebrows rose. Govi had some really serious connections, and he was apparently not afraid to use them. And for her clan’s benefit too. Her warm feelings for the Imdiko grew.

Now they were home, and Conyod’s mood seemed to lift a little as they stepped into Sletran’s private room. The Nobek used it mostly to work out and practice moves that reminded Rachel of Earth’s martial arts. His space had a reflective surface on one wall. The wooden floor beneath Rachel’s feet seemed solid but it had some give to it too. A thick mat lay in one corner, and wooden and metal parrying rods of various lengths and thicknesses hung on the wall opposite the mirror. Another wall contained vids and shelves with personal items stacked on them.

Conyod poked around the shelves. “He won’t need much from in here, since he won’t be allowed any sort of weapons. He keeps all his clothes in the sleeping room’s closet, so I’ll have to go in there to find him something clean. Let’s see, what else?” He grabbed a handheld from one shelf. “I’ll load this with some reading material, lectures, and music he might like.”

Rachel was interested in the vids. They looked similar to the badges that had hung on Breft’s office wall. These also had Kalquorian words written over them, but she couldn’t decipher enough of the symbols to figure out what they said.

Conyod noticed her fascination. He smiled. “Our Nobek does a lot for others.” He started pointing to each one, explaining them in turn. “This one is for heading up a rebuilding effort when a Joshadan village was impacted by an earthquake. This one is for volunteering on a search and rescue effort when a shuttle went down in the mountain range near my parents’ home. And these three are for his work in donating his time to teach Imdikos self-defense. He says those awards actually belong to me, because I was the one who got him started doing it.”

Rachel looked at him questioningly. He smiled, his expression nostalgic.

“It’s kind of an embarrassing story. I was a teenager at the time, fifteen years old. I’d run away from home because conditions had become so stifling following my brother’s death. You saw how my mother and Nobek father are still very protective of me.”

Rachel nodded. “They love you.”

“Yes, but it’s the kind of love that does more harm than good if not kept in check.”

“So what happened after you ran away?”

“I ended up in a town that was close to a Nobek training camp. It had given leave to its students that day, and four of them about my age decided to pick on me. They’d been drinking, and the situation was getting physical. Sletran, who was older, saw what was going on and got pissed off. He was there in an instant and had them all on the ground before they knew what had hit them. Busted a knee on each of them so they couldn’t get away. Then he took a stick and whipped them all like children in front of everyone.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide. “Wow. You’d never met him before?”

“No. That was our introduction.” Conyod chuckled at the memory.

“Then you became friends?”

“I suppose you could call it that. Sletran marched me to the authorities when he found out I’d run away from home.” Conyod hesitated a moment, making Rachel think there might have been more to the story than that. He shrugged. “It was a mess, because it’s considered a very big deal when a young Imdiko leaves home like that. Anyway, Sletran took an interest in my welfare for whatever reason. He visited me when he was able, and taught me how to defend myself. He said being an Imdiko was no excuse for not being able to fight. I was kind of small at the time and easy prey for bullies.”

“You filled out nicely,” Rachel said with a naughty grin.

“So have you. You were a skinny thing when you first got here.”

“Back to the story,” she insisted, getting a whiff of his spicy arousal aroma. “When did you know you wanted to be clanned with him?”

“Almost right away.” Conyod chuckled. “I had the worst case of hero worship you can imagine. When he went into the military and was stationed too far away to visit easily, I’d send him messages all the time.”

“You were in love.”

He snorted. “I was infatuated, a little boy with a very big crush. I thought about him every day and made a pest out of myself. He put up with it, which shows you just how patient he is. I was still just a kid, so he didn’t take me seriously for a while.”

“How did you end up being in the same clan?”

“I grew up. I stayed in touch with him all those years, and he was kind enough to send messages of encouragement as I trained for my psychology career. Then towards the end of my basic schooling, I attended a three-day conference near where he was stationed. I got him to meet me for dinner. A few mugs of kloq later, he followed me to my room.”

Rachel grinned. “You smooth devil. I guess he liked what you had to offer.”

Conyod played nonchalant. “I don’t like to brag, but I couldn’t have gotten rid of him after that if I’d tried. Not that I did try, you understand.”

Rachel laughed and he joined her. “I wish I could have seen the two of you, getting to know each other.”

Conyod pointed to a vid showing a picture of him, Sletran, and Erybet sitting on the balcony, the three relaxed and seemingly happy. “He’s got a few stills stored in that vid of us all. Show stills, clan pictures, oldest first.”

The vid projected a new shot. This one had the three looking much younger and laughing at each other as if they’d just shared a joke. Sletran and Erybet were in green and brown formsuits and tall boots that reached to their knees. Their belts had holstered percussion blasters and knives. Rachel guessed these outfits were their military uniforms. Metallic bars, two on Sletran’s chest and three on Erybet’s, seemed to denote their rank. Between them was a beaming Conyod, looking impossibly young and happy in a dark green outfit of well-fitted trousers and jacket.

“Our clanning ceremony,” Conyod said. His smile had dimmed, and he was blinking fast.

The vid went through several pictures, all of which showed a very happy clan as the years passed, their faces not yet touched by tragedy. Not yet touched by New Bethlehem. It made Rachel wonder how she herself had changed after her imprisonment, even if her scars hadn’t been present. If she saw pictures of the time when she’d been with Marcus, would she recognize herself?

Conyod’s voice ground out between clenched teeth as he watched pictures change. “Look at them. That’s who they used to be. That’s what Commander Akrij destroyed. That’s what that gurluck took from me.”

His fist suddenly slammed into the wall, making it shiver. His scream reverberated, making Rachel’s ears pop. “You hateful bastard! They trusted you! I swear by my ancestors, even if you aren’t the killer, I’ll break your bones for this!”

He kept screaming, unleashing a torrent of pain and fury. Rachel realized Emperor Bevau hadn’t really been joking when he’d spoken of an Imdiko gone violent. She thought if Akrij had been there at that moment, Conyod would have done everything in his power to kill him.

After a few earsplitting seconds, the screams stopped. Wracking sobs replaced them. He fell to his knees and hunched over, his body lurching with every harsh burst of emotion.

Rachel knelt next to him. Her eyes were streaming as she wrapped her arms around his jerking shoulders. “You’ll get them back, Conyod. You’ll get them back now that we know what happened. It’s going to get better.”

He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her against him as he shed long-overdue grief against her breast. She held him close, humming a comforting tune and rocking the distraught Imdiko. How long the storm lasted, she didn’t know. She simply held him and loved him and reassured him as best she could. Rachel was now her beloved’s shelter, repaying the long months of his care in kind. And while she hated the pain he was in, she wouldn’t have traded this moment of being Conyod’s strength for all the world.

Rachel stroked his long hair, kissing the top of his head as the worst of his agony slowly passed. He raised his face to hers. She pressed her mouth to his, letting her tongue slide between his lips to stroke its twin. He moaned, returning the kiss with a desperate hunger.

“Let me love you. Let me show you it’s going to be all right,” she whispered into his mouth.

“Yes.”

She rose and went to the corner to drag Sletran’s workout mat to the center of the room. “Lie down,” she encouraged Conyod. He did so.

Rachel pulled his boots off, and then moved up to kneel between his legs. She found the front seam of his formsuit and opened it down the middle of his chest. She leaned over him, propping herself on one hand while using the other to open the formsuit wide. She kissed the skin she bared, her lips traveling over its smooth expanse. When she found the dark brown disc of one nipple, she ran her tongue over it, making the tip pebble. Conyod groaned, his eyes becoming unfocused. She sucked gently, and he hissed with reaction.

“Ray-Ray,” he moaned.

She kissed her way over to the other nipple, treating it to kisses, licks, and sucks. She felt his groin swelling beneath her belly, and he moved against her in reaction to the attention.

Rachel rose up, grasping the shoulders of his formsuit and pulling it down. He shifted to help her peel it from his upper body and arms. She stripped him down to his narrow waist and went back to tasting.

His body was a gorgeous collection of lumps and bumps of muscles. Rachel’s hands and mouth explored him all over, tasting the salty-sweetness of his skin, tracing every line of him. Conyod was nearly panting as she mapped his abdomen with fingertips, lips, and tongue. The formsuit was hard pressed to contain his engorged cocks.

He tried once to reach for her, but she leaned back, gently batting his hands away. “Let me love you,” Rachel reprimanded him.

“The man is supposed to take care of the woman,” Conyod complained.

“This is an equal relationship, is it not? Isn’t that what you once told me?” She grinned. “That means I get to be on top once in awhile.”

He scowled. “Just because I’m an Imdiko doesn’t mean I like to surrender.”

“Conyod, I know that. And I love that you’re so strong. But I’m strong too, and sometimes I need to express it.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. “I enjoy how you and Erybet and Sletran take such good care of me. I haven’t had that in a long time. Right now though, I want to love you. I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

He looked at her but didn’t speak. She decided to take that as an agreement to keep going. Before he could change his alpha mind, she tugged at the front of his crotch, opening the seam.

His cocks spilled out, hard and flushed dark with eager need. They gleamed with his natural lubrication, making him slick. With a sigh, Rachel bent to him, inhaling the spicy aroma of his arousal. Her hands closed over the base of each penis. Conyod jerked in reaction.

Her eyes rolling up to watch his face, Rachel dipped her mouth towards those livid exclamation marks. Her tongue started with the smaller of his two cocks, right above where her hand gripped him. She slowly licked up the underside of the shaft, tasting his sweetness, feeling how his pulse throbbed faster at her erotic touch. Conyod’s eyelids fluttered, and he emitted a long groan. His cocks swelled fatter and harder than ever.

Rachel licked all the way up his shaft, pausing to close her mouth over the tapered tip. She sucked all the wetness she found there, swallowing it before starting a new journey up the larger cock’s underside.

He watched her, his lips parted and eyes half-lidded. When Rachel arrived at the top of his primary cock, she found a reward waiting there: a single sweet drop of pre-cum. She took it from him with a delicate swipe of her tongue. Sweet-salty-spicy goodness washed through her senses.

She bathed his cocks with her mouth; licking, sucking, kissing, nipping. In no time Conyod was writhing beneath her assault, his groans continuous. His warm hands rubbed over the back of her head, her neck, her shoulders. His hips rose and fell, feeding his need into her accepting mouth. She took his front cock as deeply as she could, pumping the rest of it as well as his second cock with firm grips.

“Oh Matara, how beautiful you look holding me in your mouth! I love you so much,” Conyod said. His ass thumped against the floor mat, driving in and out as he clutched at her shoulders. She was making him wild. Rachel grinned.

“Ready for something else?” she asked. She flicked her pink tongue over the opening of his front cock, coaxing more pre-ejaculate out.

“Whatever you want,” he gasped. “Just tell me.”

“I’ll show you instead.”

Rachel released him and pulled her dress off over her head. She stood over the Imdiko, enjoying how his eyes drank her in. Yes, enjoying it. Not flinching because he saw her scars. Not being afraid he’d find her ugly.

She shrugged off her bra, dropping it to the floor. Conyod licked his lips, staring at the soft mounds topped by dark, stiff nipples. Rachel rubbed them for him, making them as pebble-hard as she could. Her lover’s hands twitched, as if he could feel her flesh in them.

It was time to give the power back to Conyod, power he desperately needed. What had happened to his clan, what continued to happen, was making him feel incapable. Weak. He needed his strength, and she needed to give it to him.

She pushed her panties down over her hips and let them drop to her ankles. Then she stepped forward, placing her feet on either side of Conyod’s head, letting him look straight up at her pussy.

“You see, my love? Even lying there on your back with me standing over you, even now you control me.” Rachel reached down, spreading her pussy lips, showing him everything. “I’m doing this because I want to please you. Because I want you to be happy with me.”

She pressed two fingers into herself. Her head fell back and she moaned at her own touch. At the knowledge Conyod was watching her touch herself. She pumped her fingers in and out, fucking her pussy for his enjoyment. “For you, Conyod. For you.”

“Yes,” came his voice. His hands gripped her ankles. “Show me. Let me see you pleasure yourself until you’re right on the brink of coming.”

Rachel did as he commanded, pressing in deep and curling her fingertips to apply pressure to her G-spot. Hot, boiling rapture bubbled through her. She groaned and felt herself dripping.

“That’s it. Let your juices fall. You taste so good.”

Rachel closed her eyes. She pinched her nipple, imagining it was Conyod’s rough touch that sent shards of painful pleasure straight down. Her hand moved to the other breast, pinching harder. She cried out and arched into the punishing touch. Her nipples throbbed. She thrust into her pussy faster.

“Good girl. Now play with your clit. Make it so you’re ready to come, but stop before you do.”

“Yes, my Imdiko.” The words floated from her as her fingers slid down from her breasts, moving over her belly, down to her navel, then further down still to her hairless mound. They found her pleasure button, swollen with want and slippery with her honey.

“There you are. Rub it, my love. Take yourself right to the edge.”

Rachel stroked her clit and shuddered as rivulets of pleasure streamed through her. Her sex was melting under her touch. She thrust within and caressed, her hands matching rhythm. Her hips swung back and forth, propelling her towards bliss. And through it all, she felt Conyod’s gaze burning her, watching as she performed for him under his command.

Her legs shook, quaking, threatening to spill her to the floor. Heat licked through her loins. Rachel knew her own body. She knew what felt best, and she gave it to herself. Raw, carnal need drove her, and she worked her pussy harder and faster. She was filling up, getting ready to overflow. The dam holding climax back was cracking under the pressure, getting ready to give way…

“Stop, Ray-Ray. Stop now.”

The firm voice stilled her hands without her thinking about it. She was close. Too close. She tried to get her hands to move again, to take her over the brink. They were frozen, held utterly still by instinctive obedience to that voice that commanded her.

“Take your hands away.”

Rachel whimpered a protest, but her rebel hands were not hers to rule. Fingers slid free of her pussy and clit, leaving her empty and wanting.

“Kneel and give them to me. Put your fingers in my mouth.”

Rachel didn’t so much kneel as collapse. Conyod caught her falling body easily, gently lowering her to sit on his chest. His mouth opened for her offering, and she put the fingers that had been in her depths so recently into his mouth.

His tongue twined sinuously over the trembling digits, claiming every drop of honey. The feel of it made Rachel’s eyes roll. Her hips rolled a little, grinding her pussy and clit against his chest. She was in agony. She wanted to come so damned bad.

He released her fingers. His hands gripped her hips, lifting and pressing her back. “Fuck me, my beauty. Put my cocks in you and fuck me.”

Rachel’s hands shook hard, and she scrabbled desperately for the twin prods that Conyod held her over. She managed to aim the tips of him at their intended entrances. He slowly lowered her, letting her weight press him inside. She sobbed unselfconsciously, grateful to feel him forging into her, stretching her wide, promising to release the built up tension that made arousal an agony.

Slivers of delight flew through her as his front cock met her cervix and her clit rubbed against his groin. She cried out and her hands slapped down on his chest, her fingernails digging into the skin.

He hissed as his cocks jerked in reaction. “Yesss. That’s it. Feel me filling you up completely. Now fuck me, good and hard.”

Rachel got her feet under her, framing Conyod’s waist as she squatted over him. Bracing herself, she tilted her hips up, releasing all but the tips of him in a delicious slide. She slammed back down, making his body move hard against her clit, the sensitive spot inside her sheath, and her cervix. They both shouted.

Conyod rose up, his mouth surrounding her breast. He bit down, his fangs piercing the soft flesh. Rachel screamed and rode him with fierce abandon.

She pounded her pussy against the Imdiko, riding him with desperate force. Rising, falling, rising, falling, creating a cacophony of sensation inside. The constant pressure was driving her upward, sending her flying into nirvana. She knew when she fell from the heights, she’d be destroyed. She didn’t care. Euphoria from Conyod’s bite made her own demolition unimportant.

The climax began, a bright bubble inflating in her belly, growing larger and larger until it reached capacity. It burst suddenly but in slow motion, sending her senses flying in all directions. She felt it with crystalline clarity, every drop of her essence moving outward, flinging to the outermost borders of existence. Then it all drew back in, returning to the core of her body to do it once more. Then again. Then again.

The pulses were ebbing, allowing Rachel to return to some semblance of herself when Conyod arched beneath her, howling. His cocks pulsed hard, adding a second and third heartbeat to her sagging body. As she wilted over him he pulled her close, holding her tight to his chest as he jerked his hips desperately, emptying himself into her.

They lay gasping for a long time after that, neither possessing the strength to move. Rachel was good with that. If the world had ended right then and there with her draped over Conyod, his body still melded with hers, that would have suited her just fine.

Chapter 18

Breft scowled at his com, as if Raxstad could see his displeasure as well as hear it. “What do you mean you can’t locate Nobek Akrij?”

Raxstad’s voice was as clear as if he was in the room and not talking from his shuttle. “He’s not at the military base. His aide said he never showed up. He’s also not at home. I’m checking around other known haunts, but I’m coming up empty so far.”

Erybet was tense. The last thing he needed was more drama. At least he’d gotten to see Sletran for a few minutes and that had been a positive encounter. Despite being clad in a ill-fitting tan detention uniform, the Nobek looked better than he had in a long time. Discovering he wasn’t behind the serial killings and opening up about New Bethlehem had gone a long way to easing Sletran’s emotional agony. Erybet had agreed with Degorsk and Breft that it was still too early to tell him about Akrij’s supposed treachery. They needed the full story first.

Before Breft could respond to Raxstad’s report, another Nobek officer poked his head in through the open door. “Sir, Lidon is back with Kivokan and Trusec. He put the Dramok in Interrogation Twelve and the Imdiko in Three.”

Breft nodded. “Thank you. Raxstad, Akrij’s clanmates were just brought in. Keep looking, and I’ll see what I can get from them.”

“Copy that.”

Emperor Bevau’s look was thunderous. “My call must have warned him. He’s on the run.”

Breft signaled for calm. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, my emperor. After all, he’s not an official suspect yet as far as the murders are concerned. We’ll see what his clanmates know.” He rose from his chair and headed for the door. “We’ll start with the Imdiko. Follow me.”

Erybet fell in behind Bevau and Clajak as they marched down the corridor. Breft led them to the area marked ‘Interrogation’, where Erybet had visited his Nobek earlier.

Lidon was outside Room Three when they entered the area. He hurried to them, meeting them halfway.

In a low undertone he told Breft, “The Imdiko is very upset. He has cried twice since he was picked up.”

Breft started. “He’s crying? Does he show signs of being abused?”

Lidon shook his head. “Not physically. He seems extremely sensitive though. Childlike, even though he’s close to my age.” The Nobek blew out a breath. “If Degorsk is still around, he could tell you better than I. I’d like my Imdiko to see this one after you’re done for trauma support.”

Breft’s eyebrow lifted. “If Trusec is forthcoming, I have no intentions of being harsh.”

Lidon snorted. “I have no doubt of that, sir. It’s just ... there’s something … off about this man. Almost as if his mind is unfinished, for lack of a better description. Or perhaps I’m not used to such weak Imdikos. Some hearts bleed more than others from lesser cuts, I suppose.”

“Quoting from the Book of Life?”

“From bitter experience. However, I’ve never seen anyone like this. That his Dramok is a psychiatrist, and a celebrated one at that, makes Trusec’s mental condition scandalous, in my view.”

Lidon’s comment that some hearts bled more than others was still ringing in Erybet’s mind. His entire clan had done more than their share of suffering. No one was immune.

Hadn’t he met Trusec when accompanying Conyod to some hospital social function? Or maybe it had been a military conference. Erybet tried to visualize a face to go with the name, but all he could recall was a smallish figure standing between Kivokan and Akrij.

Lidon was still talking, and Erybet made himself attend to the conversation. “…very protective instincts for Trusec. Kivokan even threatened a couple of officers with a knife when they held the Imdiko’s arm to keep him from running away.”

“That is abnormal behavior,” Breft agreed. “If your clanmate is still available, I have no problem with him doing a mental health assessment on the Imdiko after we’re done.”

Lidon stepped aside. As the group passed, he said into his com, “Degorsk, have you left yet or are you still terrorizing everyone with your bad jokes?”

“No, I’m telling them the saddest story I know, the one about the first time you begged me for sex.”

Clajak and Bevau snorted suppressed laughter, and even Erybet couldn’t help the shocked grin that hit his face. Breft shot them all a warning glare, though his mouth was twisting, fighting the frown he forced it into.

They made themselves sober and entered the room where Akrij’s Imdiko waited. Erybet joined the emperors in standing against one wall as Breft sat across the table from a smaller than average man. A man whose eyes were wide and round with the fear of a child. Erybet knew Lidon had at least fifteen years on him, and he’d said Trusec was his age. To Erybet, he looked much younger, younger than Conyod even. His hair was fixed in intricate braids that held it off his face. The design was too perfect in the back for him to have done it himself.

Erybet tried to imagine himself or Sletran fixing Conyod’s waist-length hair for him. The idea had him wanting to grin again, though the expression would no doubt have a horrified quality this time.

Trusec half-rose as he recognized Clajak and Bevau. “The emperors are here too? But why? I’ve done nothing wrong to any person or the Empire!”

Even Trusec’s voice had an immature quality, sounding querulous like that of a five-year-old about to be punished. A very terrified five-year-old. Erybet questioned Lidon’s assessment that the Imdiko hadn’t been physically abused at some point. He did agree that something was terribly wrong with him though.

Breft held up a hand and spoke soothingly. “No one has accused you of anything, Imdiko. You’re not even under arrest. I simply need to ask you a few questions about your Nobek.”

Erybet was impressed with the gentleness Breft showed, especially since he was an undoubtedly ferocious example of his breed. One didn’t reach his rank at his age in an organization like Global Security without a generous streak of ruthlessness. Perhaps he used what he’d learned from parenting? It was an interesting thought.

Trusec sat down, but he wasn’t anywhere near calmed yet. His tone still tremulous, he asked, “Where is Akrij? I want his permission to talk to you first.”

Erybet made a noise of disbelief. It caught the Imdiko’s attention, and he looked at him.

Trusec said, “Do I know you? Where is my Nobek?” Before Erybet could speak, the Imdiko turned his attention back to Breft. “And what have you done with my Dramok?”

Breft switched tactics, going with a firm, authoritative demeanor. “Trusec, I need you to calm down and answer my questions. The sooner you do that, the sooner you can see Dramok Kivokan.”

The Imdiko sucked in his lower lip. His voice was quieter though still afraid. “But I don’t know anything. Really.”

Breft gave him a stern face. “Then you have no reason to be upset. Tell me, did Akrij ever speak to you concerning New Bethlehem?”

Trusec looked blank. “What’s New Bethlehem?”

The others exchanged stunned looks. Everyone knew about New Bethlehem.

Bevau stepped forward. “I realize Akrij’s involvement on New Bethlehem is supposed to be a secret. But since I’m the one who gave the final order to keep it quiet, you are allowed to discuss it with us.”

Trusec offered him a hopeful smile. “He obeyed your order, my emperor. He never breathed a word to me about it. I don’t know what it is.” All spoken with pride and not a single trace of subterfuge.

Erybet stared at the Imdiko. What the hell was going on with this man? He could only come up with one possible explanation: that Trusec had suffered abuse in the very distant past, something so horrific that his clanmates had become overprotective to the point of emotionally crippling him. Could they have somehow sheltered him so completely that he had no idea of New Bethlehem at all?

If Breft felt any of the same horror and confusion, he hid it well. Keeping his voice even, he asked, “How has Akrij been since getting back from the war?”

Trusec shrugged. “The same as before, I guess. He keeps me safe.”

“He’s not gone into any rages? Never made you feel afraid?”

The Imdiko gave Breft a horrified look. “Absolutely not! I never feel threatened with my Nobek.” His lip trembled and his eyes filled with tears. “Why are you doing this to me? When can I see Kivokan?”

“I’m almost done. You’re being very helpful, Trusec. Would you like a sweet drink?”

The man blinked at him. He licked his lips. “Kivokan doesn’t like me to. He says they aren’t good for me.”

“All right, I don’t want to get you into trouble. Let me know if you change your mind. Tell me, does Akrij go off by himself a lot? Does he disappear or spend a lot of time away from home?”

Trusec thought about that. He scrubbed at his eyes, his brow furrowing. “I don’t think he sleeps well. He goes out for walks in the middle of the night or he takes the shuttle out for a drive. Kivokan says not to bother him about it.” Trusec huffed at Breft. “Anyway, going out isn’t illegal, last I heard.”

Breft shook his head. “No, it’s not. That’s perfectly fine. Do you know where he goes?”

“No.”

“You’ve never asked him?”

Trusec rolled his eyes. “If I needed to know, he’d tell me. He is an important man. Some stuff he does is top secret.”

Erybet thought, All the times I wished Conyod would simply accept that very explanation. Thank the ancestors he’s not anything like this man. His guts curdled at the idea.

Breft kept the questioning going. If he shared Erybet’s disgust for Trusec’s demeanor, he didn’t show it. “Has Akrij ever gone out for longer than a few hours at a time? Like a whole day?”

“Not to my knowledge. He’s usually at the base during the day, as far as I know.” Trusec considered. “He misses evening meal sometimes and doesn’t come home until after I’ve gone to bed. And sometimes when he goes out at night, he doesn’t come back until after work hours the next day.”

“Are you sure he’s going to work every day?”

Trusec snorted. “Well, not every day. Some days he has off and the clan spends time together.”

“I meant on his regular duty days. You know for a fact he goes to the base?”

“Of course he does. Where else would he be?”

Breft touched his com. “Lidon?”

The Nobek stuck his head through the door. “Right here. Dr. Degorsk is here too.”

“Good, we’ll need him now. Can you check to make sure Akrij reported for all his shifts since—” Breft threw a look in Trusec’s direction and considered his request. “Since the trouble started?”

Lidon gave him an intent look. “I’ll need high-level military clearance for such an inquiry.”

“So you will.”

Bevau nodded at Breft’s questioning glance. “You’ve got it.” He and Lidon left the room. Degorsk walked in, his expression pleasant and consoling all at once as he looked at Trusec.

Trusec fidgeted. He started to look weepy again. “When can I see Kivokan? You said if I answered your questions I could see him.”

“Soon,” Breft assured him. “You did very well and I appreciate your cooperation. I have to speak to him first. Meanwhile, Dr. Degorsk is going to sit with you. Thank you for answering my questions, Imdiko.”

He stood, handing his chair over to Degorsk and waving at Erybet and Clajak to follow him. As Erybet left the room, Trusec’s voice rose in a wail.

“I don’t want a doctor. I want my Dramok.”

Degorsk’s voice was all comfort. “I know Trusec, but he has to answer questions too. Did you know I work with your Dramok at the hospital? We’re on the same team.”

“Oh?” Cautious hope. “What was your name again?”

The Imdiko’s voice faded as Erybet hurried down the hall at Emperor Clajak’s side. The emperor caught his glance and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I’m taking my Imdiko out for dinner tonight in appreciation for not being on the same level as my children.”

Erybet shook his head. “Why would a doctor of Kivokan’s caliber not help Trusec?”

“Or perhaps be the reason he’s that way?” Breft added. “Unfortunately, that is not our concern at this time. We need to concentrate on getting information on Akrij.”

Movement right behind made Erybet jump. He jerked around to find Bevau had returned. “Sorry about that, Erybet. Breft, Lidon’s checking Akrij’s work attendance. I also have the military police searching the base for him just in case he’s somewhere on the premises. If they find him, they’ll bring him here.”

“Thank you, my emperor.” Breft slowed as they approached Room 12. “All right, here we go again. By the ancestors, I hope Kivokan can offer us something more concrete than Trusec.”

“At least he won’t cry,” Clajak muttered. “I hope.”

They walked in the room to find Kivokan pacing back and forth. He immediately lit into Breft, not even acknowledging the fact he had two emperors standing there as well.

“This is outrageous! Your men pulled me out of my job in front of my subordinates. The whole hospital will be talking. Then I find my Imdiko scared out of his wits in their shuttle. Where the hell is Trusec? How dare you separate us!”

His face was so flushed in his rage that he was nearly purple. Erybet wondered if Conyod had ever seen him this way. Conyod was no Kivokan fan; he had gone on more than one rant about the man’s unpopular push to mindwipe the most ‘troublesome’ Mataras. The descriptive word as much a sore spot with Erybet’s Imdiko as the proposed solution.

For Erybet’s part, he usually found Kivokan too in love with his own voice. There had been occasions when he’d been tempted to challenge the man when he spoke to Conyod with more than a touch of condescension. Fortunately, Conyod was quite capable of handling the Dramok himself.

Erybet had found Kivokan irritating before. After seeing the state his Imdiko was in, he decided he didn’t like him at all.

Breft was giving Akrij’s Dramok a cold, hard stare. He’d been like a stern but caring parent with Trusec. Now he was all Nobek, his expression and posture that of a predator ready to spring. With awful finality he told Kivokan, “You will sit down, Dramok, and answer my questions.”

Kivokan’s fury eased a few notches. He looked at all four of the men glowering at him and stepped back. Sketching a little bow of belated respect, he said, “My emperors, Trusec is a very delicate personality. He requires calm surroundings and reassurance that he’s safe.”

Lidon spoke behind Erybet, making him jump a little. Damned Nobeks kept sneaking up on him. “Trusec is settled for now until he is returned to your care. Dr. Degorsk is with him.”

Kivokan’s lip curled. “Degorsk? That clown takes nothing seriously. Why Govi sponsors that—”

Lidon’s growl filled the room. “Watch your tongue when you speak of my clanmate.”

“Or what? You’ll beat me in front of our emperors?” Kivokan’s dismissal set Erybet’s teeth on edge.

Breft moved in a blur, stopping so close to Kivokan that their chests bumped. The Dramok fell back with a gasp. Breft grabbed his collar and yanked him close again. His fangs out, Breft spoke slowly, enunciating every word. “Sit. Down. Now.” He shoved Kivokan towards the table.

Kivokan stumbled backwards and finally seemed to realize no one in the room was his ally. Looking scared and angry, he dropped into the chair. With bad grace he muttered, “My apologies. I am very confused and upset. Being snatched like a criminal has put me in a foul mood.”

Breft went to the other side of the table but remained standing. Without preamble he snapped, “Where is your Nobek?”

Kivokan snorted. “At work. Let me guess; the base wouldn’t allow your officers—” he spat the word out like an insult “—to bundle him off as you did with us.”

“He is not at his job.” Breft paused to let that sink in. Kivokan simply shrugged, so the Nobek continued. “Trusec has told us Akrij disappears on occasion. Where does he go?”

Kivokan’s scowling expression didn’t change, but he went still all over, his breath held for a moment. He snapped, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Breft slammed his hands onto the table surface and leaned in close. In a low voice he said, “I’m talking about murder, Dramok Kivokan. The deaths of Mataras. New Bethlehem.”

The psychiatrist’s eyes went wide. His face paled and he shouted, “Akrij’s involvement in New Bethlehem is supposed to be confidential!”

Next to Erybet, Bevau growled, “Then why do you know about it?”

Breft ignored the interruption. “Akrij countermanded Commander Sletran’s order to abort the mission. Why?”

Kivokan looked at him with horror. “Who told you that?” He turned his attention to Erybet. “You knew? But he jammed the frequencies between you and Sletran!”

On the other side of Bevau, Clajak gasped. Bevau and Breft stiffened and stared at Kivokan, who continued to wait for Erybet to answer him. He seemed unaware that he’d just confirmed Akrij had orchestrated the slaughter.

Freezing cold licked through Erybet’s gut, turning it into a heavy ball of ice. He heard his voice from far away. “We trusted Akrij. We would have died for him. And all along, we’re just his scapegoats, his pawns—”

“No.” Kivokan stood slowly, his gaze intent on Erybet’s face. “You men meant everything to him. Sometimes I think he loved his soldiers more than his own clan. Every death any of you suffered killed something inside him.” His head shook from side to side, but that hectic stare never wavered. “It was those damned Earthers! Attacking his people after the war was over, killing the men who were trying to help them. His men. And then there was that woman.”

Kivokan’s eyes closed and he dropped back into his chair. “Akrij only wanted to help her. He only wanted to help.”

He fell silent. The seconds spun out until Clajak quietly asked, “What woman? What did she do?”

Kivokan didn’t answer. He only sat there, staring at the table in front of him.

Erybet knew exactly who the woman was. As if he could ever forget. He and Sletran and Conyod’s father Vel had been standing there, speaking to Akrij when she approached. Small and shivering despite the bulky coat she wore and the sweat covering her face.

He said, “She asked for food, and Akrij sent her into the dining hall. We’d never been attacked by the women before. We never thought to search her before sending her in.”

Clajak’s mouth hung open. “She attacked you?”

“She detonated the explosives she had hidden on her body. She was surrounded by soldiers when she did it. We lost a lot of men that day. We later discovered the rebels had abducted her child and threatened his life if she didn’t do it.” Erybet choked on the words. “She had no choice.”

Kivokan recovered his voice. “Then there were others. They kept coming, kept trying to kill even though Akrij knew what to look for after the first one. He saw them as a threat to the men he wanted to send home safely.”

Breft asked the final question. “Is that why he’s killing the Mataras here? Because he thinks they’re a threat?”

Kivokan shuddered. His voice took on a pleading note. “You don’t have to arrest him. You can’t let it be known what happened. You know they’ll kill him for the murders on Kalquor and New Bethlehem.”

Lidon stepped forward as Kivokan stood and approached Clajak and Bevau, his hands held out in supplication. “Let me put Akrij in the hospital. I can help him. I can treat him. I can save him.”

He looked startled when Breft and Lidon appeared at his side. Lidon cuffed his ankles and Breft, his wrists. “Immobilize the prisoner,” Breft ordered the voice-command cuffs. He glared at Kivokan. “You can’t help Akrij, not when you’re in prison yourself for knowingly letting him murder all those women. You’re under arrest, Dramok.”

Kivokan stared at him in disbelief, too shocked to speak. Then he looked at Erybet, who stepped towards him. Bevau’s hands gripped Erybet’s shoulders, keeping him from getting close enough to attack. He didn’t struggle against the emperor.

Instead he stood there, looking at the man who had been a part of destroying not only his clan, but the lives of so many soldiers, women, and children. Kivokan couldn’t have prevented the Slaughter of Innocents, but a great many others might have been saved had he done something to stop Akrij.

Erybet told him, “Be very glad Global Security got to you first. And you’d better pray to every ancestor you hold dear that they find Akrij before I do.”

* * * *

Conyod led the way through the greeting room as he and Rachel headed for the transport. After recovering from lovemaking, they’d taken a quick shower and gathered Sletran’s things.

Just as he reached the door, Conyod turned his head to look at her. He said, “Let’s stop on our way back to Global Security to get Sletran something decent to eat. Who knows what kind of slop they serve in their holding cells?”

Rachel was in complete agreement, though she was eager to see her Nobek. The sex had been wonderful and exactly what she and Conyod needed following the rough morning they’d had, but it had taken up time that could have been spent with their clanmate.

Conyod was still looking at her when the door to the transport opened. Rachel’s eyes widened to see a snarling Nobek Akrij framed in the doorway. Before Conyod could turn to see what made her gasp, Akrij struck out with a fist, smashing into the side of the Imdiko’s skull.

Conyod flew halfway across the room, bouncing off the low table in the middle of the floor. Sletran’s belongings exploded from the carryall he’d been holding. Akrij was on him immediately, throwing the smaller man to land near the bar. The Nobek moved so fast, Rachel could barely see as he smashed a liquor bottle, then another, and a third over Conyod’s head.

Akrij rose from the still body. Blood ran from Conyod’s forehead. The whole attack had taken less than five seconds, giving Rachel no time to react.

She screamed in rage and terror at the Nobek staring at her. While her first instinct was to attack the man who had possibly killed her lover right before her eyes, she knew she was no match for him. She ran for the transport.

Rachel hadn’t finished her first step when Akrij grabbed her, his hand closing around her throat to choke off any further screams. He leaned in close enough to kiss her, but the savage look on his face made Rachel certain he was going to bite instead.

He grinned, his face a rictus of insanity. “Finally. I feared I’d never get you away from them, but with Sletran’s arrest, I knew you’d be unprotected.”

Rachel fought for breath as his hand tightened, cutting off all her air. She reached up and clawed bloody paths in his face, fighting with all she had to escape.

He let go and slapped her hard. She fell to the floor at his feet. Bright lights exploded in her vision, and Rachel knew she was about to pass out. She fought for consciousness, knowing that if she fainted, she was as good as dead.

Akrij kicked her in the stomach almost casually. Pain ripped through her guts. She curled up to protect herself, retching violently.

The Nobek watched her, his face now soft with pleasure that was almost as frightening as his earlier rage. He chuckled. “You’ve blinded my poor men, but I know what you are. I will save them from you, you deceiving bitch. You won’t destroy my two best officers.”

He took a couple lengths of flex cord and a strip of cloth from his belt. Moving with that uncanny Kalquorian speed, he had her wrists and ankles bound and her mouth gagged in seconds. Not bothering to be gentle, Akrij flung her over his shoulder, knocking the wind out of her again.

Tears blurred Rachel’s vision as he took her into the transport. The last thing she saw before the door closed was Conyod still lying bloody and motionless on the floor.

* * * *

Despite the cuffs keeping him immobile, Kivokan was determined to get at someone. He jerked against his restraints, trying to bite Breft and Lidon. Raxstad, looking for Breft, walked into the room and burst out laughing at the sight. He shut up immediately at the grim faces the rest pointed at him.

“Sorry,” he muttered, coming over to lend a hand that wasn’t really needed. “He just always looks so above it all. My Matara calls him ‘Mr. Shit-Wouldn’t-Melt-In-His-Mouth.’”

A smile ghosted over Clajak’s face. “Michaela always has had a way with words.”

Erybet’s com beeped frantically, a signal that someone in his clan desperately needed to get hold of him. He hurried into the hallway to answer it.

“Yes?”

“Erybet … he has her … he’s got Rachel.” The breathless voice ended in a moan.

The Dramok stared at his com. His voice echoed down the hall. “Conyod? Who has Rachel?”

A senseless question. He knew very well who had her. Breft, Raxstad, and Bevau were suddenly in front of him, their eyes questioning.

“Nobek … Akrij … attacked … gone.”

Breft asked, “Did it just happen? Where are you?”

“Home. Out five … minutes, maybe? Less … perhaps.”

Raxstad took off down the hall shouting, “I’ll pick up the trail from their complex!”

Erybet shook all over. The monster had his Matara. His Imdiko was obviously hurt. “Help is coming, Conyod. Conyod?”

Breft had been giving orders on his own com link. “I’ve sent for emergency medical to help your Imdiko,” he told Erybet.

The Dramok nodded. “Conyod, if you can still hear me, stay there. Global Security and medical are on the way.”

A sob told Erybet his clanmate was still conscious, but Conyod’s voice barely made enough sound to understand him. “Sorry, Erybet … never … never saw … him com—”

The connection broke off. Erybet warred between rushing to his apparently badly injured Imdiko and trying to find Rachel.

He took a step, thinking he’d know what to do when he reached his shuttle. Hands on his arms stopped him, and his panicked brain registered the two emperors were holding him there. Breft was going back into the interrogation room, his expression set.

“Wait, Erybet,” Clajak said. “You can’t find your Matara on your own. As for Conyod, emergency services are tending him. They’ll have him at the hospital before you can get home.”

Bevau added, “Let Breft handle this. He and his men are very good at their jobs. They found my empress when she was abducted. They’ll find your Rachel.”

They half-dragged him back into the interrogation room where Breft was yelling into Kivokan’s face.

The man who had handled Imdiko Trusec so carefully was nowhere to be seen. Breft’s true nature was apparent as he yanked on Kivokan’s hair, showing fangs, spittle flying as he put on a full Nobek threat display. “Where is your Nobek? Where would he be taking her?”

Kivokan’s eyes were wide with terror, but he bared his fangs too. “I don’t know!” he yelled back.

Breft dealt a openhanded slap to his prisoner’s face, a blow that rocked Kivokan’s head back on his neck. Lidon, his face dark with fury, grabbed hair on the back of the Dramok’s head and held him still for a couple more thunderclap hits. Kivokan’s eyes rolled. A thin stream of blood ran from his nose.

Breft yelled, “Don’t fuck with me, Kivokan! I’ll personally string you up and shockwhip you until your lungs and bowels bleed! No, I’ve got a better idea.”

He pulled a blade from his belt and looked at Erybet. As desperate and angry as the Dramok was for his clanmates, he was still a little rocked by the feral madness in the Global Security officer’s eyes. Even Erybet’s troops, in full battle heat, had never looked so deadly.

Breft grinned at him. “I’m going to hand Erybet my knife. I’m going to let him carve you until you tell us where that murdering Nobek of yours took his Matara. Last chance, Kivokan.”

Bevau and Clajak released Erybet so he could step forward. Cold rage suffused him. He would gladly make Kivokan bleed. And once he got the truth from Kivokan, he’d cut the rotted heart right out of his chest. A growl boiled from him.

Kivokan’s fangs folded away as he stared at Erybet in terror. He jerked as if he could escape the hovercuffs and overdue justice. “I don’t know! I swear it! He never told me where he took them!”

Erybet held out his hand. Breft placed the knife in it. Kivokan shrieked.

Lidon said, “Kivokan, where would Akrij have been in contact with kestarsh?”

The limping officer’s question cut through the roar in Erybet’s ears. He hesitated, the point of Breft’s knife only an inch from Kivokan’s face. “Kestarsh?”

Hadn’t they told him kestarsh hairs had been found on one of the bodies?

Kivokan was still watching him with wide, terrified eyes. “We don’t have any—” Then he stopped. Desperate hope bloomed on his face. He jabbered, “The plains property at the foot of the mountains. We bought it just a few months ago. We haven’t built our vacation home yet, but there are stables from previous owners.”

Breft grabbed Erybet’s wrist, holding his knife hand still. “Where?”

“The land is adjacent to Imdiko Conyod’s stables.”

Lidon snarled, “Exact coordinates. Now.”

Half a dozen officers arrived, brought in by some signal Erybet had missed. Looking as civilized as any Imdiko, the suddenly businesslike Breft jerked his head toward Kivokan and told them, “Bring him. Maybe the gurluck can talk his Nobek down if we don’t have a clear shot at him.” He looked at Erybet. “My knife, Dramok. We have the information we need.”

Erybet surrendered the blade reluctantly. His almost desperate urge to render Kivokan into small bits was eclipsed by the more desperate need to get to Rachel. To find her alive and keep her that way. “You have to let me go too. I was there on New Bethlehem. I might know better than anyone what’s in Akrij’s head.”

Refusal was stamped all over Breft’s face. Before he could answer, Bevau said, “We’re following you, Breft. Erybet will come with us.”

Breft shook his head, hurrying out of the room with Lidon on his heels. “I don’t have time to argue. Unless I tell you to help, stay back. A Matara’s life is on the line, and I won’t lose her.”

They raced for the shuttles.

Chapter 19

Rachel woke on the hard floor of a shuttle. She knew what it was instantly; its hum matched that of her clan’s vehicles.

Akrij had put a foul-smelling cloth over her face in the transport, which had knocked her out. Now she lay on one side, blinking up at the Nobek who seemed to tower miles above her in the pilot’s seat. For an instant, she saw Conyod’s bloody face instead, his eyes closed. She blinked tears back furiously. He might still be alive. She had to find a way to remain that way as well.

Rachel could feel the binds around her wrists and ankles. She strained against them experimentally. There was only a minute amount of give. She’d never slip out of them.

Akrij looked down at her, and she froze in his tiger’s stare. A smile she could only catalog as utterly insane spread across his brutal face. How the hell had Erybet and Sletran never seen the madness in this man?

He licked his lips, as if contemplating a big, juicy steak. “It wakes. Just in time, too. We’re almost there.”

She was fucked. There were no two ways about it. Terror was eclipsing all efforts to remain calm. Tied up. No way to run. No way to fight. Even if she could fight, she had no weapon. And hand-to-hand with this monster? Oh, hell no. He’d break her in half with one blow.

It was hopeless. She was going to die just as life had such promise.

On top of it all, she hurt. Her throat was still sore from Akrij choking her. Her face throbbed from the slaps he’d dealt. The hip she lay on ached. A small, hard lump beneath it felt like it was bruising her. She must have something in her pocket—

Her eyes went wide. She had Sletran’s com and knife! But could she get to them and use either?

Rachel wriggled, rolling slightly forward off the lump and twisting her hands to get at it. Her fingertips found the opening to the pocket and slipped in.

Akrij growled. “You will remain still.”

She wondered, Or what? You’ll kill me? Isn’t that the plan anyway, you crazy shit?

She continued to move, discovering the com was no longer in her pocket. It must have fallen out during all the ruckus. Her fingertips found the small knife, however, and curled the handle into her palm. The blade was cold against her flesh.

“I said, be still or I will set down now and make you scream!”

Rachel froze, her eyes rolling up to look at her captor. His fangs were out, and a snarl fit to turn men to stone twisted his face as he glared down at her. She held absolutely still under that rabid stare, convinced he would reach down at any moment and snap her neck.

The brutal expression slowly eased until Akrij looked similar to a normal person again. He shook his head at her, as if to relay deep disappointment. “Erybet and Sletran are important to me. They are blind enough to care for you. For that reason, I plan to not dismember you until after a quick, merciful death. But if you insist on defying me, you will die like the rest. Slowly. Painfully. You will pay for your treachery as they did.”

He looked forward at the vid relaying his flight plan. His eyes glazed over for a moment. “So many to avenge. So many to atone for.”

Pain replaced his savage expression, and he looked down at her once more. “Why do you hate us? Your Armageddon was an accident. We would have given you everything in reparation. And my men had nothing to do with it! They were good soldiers. The best. You had no right!”

He was getting amped up again, and Rachel thought she would indeed die lying right here soon if he didn’t calm down. She lowered her eyes, afraid her stare would only feed Akrij’s madness. After a few endless seconds of silence, she sensed him looking away, returning his attention to the shuttle’s controls.

She gave him a few moments to become as engrossed in piloting as he could. It was difficult when every instinct screamed at her to get moving, to do something. But she prevailed and at last judged the time was right. Keeping her movements as slight as possible, Rachel set the knife to the flex cord trapping her wrists and began sawing at it.

She was still working to cut the bindings when Akrij landed the shuttle. As he stood, Rachel set the knife inside her palm and against the inner part of her arm, praying he wouldn’t notice it.

Akrij looked down at her, his eyes empty. “All over soon,” he whispered.

He yanked her up, sending pain sizzling down Rachel’s arm. She couldn’t help the groan, and she nearly dropped the knife. Grimly she hung on as he slung her over one shoulder and walked out of the shuttle.

Rachel looked around her surroundings as he carried her, and her eyes widened. Those nearby mountains … the high grasses of the plains … Akrij had brought her near Conyod’s childhood home. Her head whipped around frantically as she tried to get her bearings. Yes, she was sure she recognized that slight rise in the distance to her right. If she was right, Conyod’s stables were on the other side of it.

Rachel’s heart raced with hope. If she could just get away from Akrij, she might find help at Conyod’s stables or his parents’ house. But where the hell was the Nobek taking her?

She rose up over his shoulder and twisted hard to see where he was headed. A derelict stable, the same round shape as she’d seen before with troughs surrounding it, loomed just ahead. Akrij took her into its dim environs, lit only by large cracks in the walls and roof.

This is where he planned to kill her. With his shuttle parked where it was, no one would notice it unless they were on the mountains. The distance between this place and Conyod’s stable meant no one would hear her screams, especially with the gag muffling her. She was running out of time, but if she started cutting at the cord around her wrists again, Akrij would definitely notice.

He carried her up to a wall that marked off an enclosure big enough for one kestarsh and dropped her onto the ground. The Nobek looked her over, the blankness waning to be replaced by that mad hatred again.

“How your kind can be so beautiful but so monstrous—” He broke off, shaking his head as if the puzzle in his sick mind was too much to unravel. He turned and walked to the opposite wall to rummage in a bin.

Rachel sawed frantically at the cord while she looked around, searching for anything that might help her. Her gaze fell on a pile of fabric only three feet away. Clothes. Bloody clothes, ripped and torn and buzzing with insects Rachel thought might be the Kalquorian equivalent of flies. She continued to cut at her binding, but she couldn’t take her eyes off that heap of dresses, skirts, and blouses. How many had he killed?

Akrij turned from the bin, the biggest knife she’d ever seen in his hands. The curved blade shined bright in the gloom. “Usually I’m better prepared than I was this morning,” he said, sounding almost conversational. “But when the emperor called me with the unexpected news, I had to hurry.”

The way his emotions changed from one instant to the next kept Rachel on edge. He could lose control at any moment and kill her in a sudden burst of fury. She had to be ready. Her every move against the Nobek had to count.

Marcus’ remembered voice whispered in her mind, and Rachel could suddenly see him, smiling with that devilish sweetness that only he could portray. “If you’ve got to fight, remember the best parts that will take a man down, Ray-Ray. Eyes, knees, or—” He winked at her.

A flood of grief swept through her. Marcus was gone. So many more were dead, including the victims of the maniac stalking towards her. She would die too, within moments.

The knife went through the last fiber of the flex cord. Her hands were free, but Akrij was standing over her now, filling her wide-eyed vision. And the knife in his hand that looked every bit as long as her entire arm was ready to send her on her way.

He nodded and smiled. “The knife is sharp, Earther. You’ll never feel it when it slices your throat. A quick, painless death. More than you deserve.” He reached down, grabbed her hair, and used it to pull her up to her knees.

Rachel didn’t think. She buried Sletran’s small blade in Akrij’s groin, pulled it out, and stabbed him again. He stared at her in surprise. Then he shrieked, a high-pitched sound that drilled through her skull. He fell, dropping his knife and grabbing at the knife protruding from his bleeding crotch.

Rachel rolled to one side, grabbing at Akrij’s huge blade. It was sharp all right, parting the flex cord binding her ankles in one swipe and nicking her leg for good measure. She didn’t feel it. She was too busy lurching to her feet and heading towards the open door.

Rachel burst into the sunlight and ran for her life.

Snatching the gag from her mouth so that the loop of cloth fell to her collarbone, Rachel ran with all the speed she could muster. Getting rid of the gag allowed the air to fill her lungs all the better, to feed oxygen to her thundering heart. Her slippered feet pounded the ground as she flew towards that faraway rise on the plain. The tall, perfumed grass whispered ‘hurry, hurry’ against her as she made her legs go faster than they’d ever moved before.

The roar of what might have been an ancient and horrific monster of legend interrupted the sweet singing of the lizard-like drils hiding in the grasses. Rachel jerked a quick glance over her shoulder and wished she hadn’t. Hunched over and staggering, Akrij was coming after her. Despite his injury and shambling gait, the Nobek was still moving fast and gaining.

The fucking bastard was catching up to her.

Rachel no longer had his knife in her hand. She didn’t remember dropping it, but it was definitely gone. The rise and Conyod’s stables beyond it with hoped-for help were too far in the distance. She had no hope of getting away. Akrij was going to catch her and then he was going to kill her.

She ran anyway, because she had to. She ran and ran, hearing his thudding footsteps pounding closer, his pained gasps and growls slipping ever nearer. He almost had her.

The glint of metal in the sky ahead, the telltale humming approach of a shuttle … no, two shuttles … made Rachel change her course. They were zeroing in on her and she ran for them as fast as she could despite knowing it was too late. The cavalry had arrived, but the damsel in distress was already as good as dead. She kept running.

The Nobek’s snarl was right behind her. A blow landed between her shoulder blades, knocking her to the ground. Then his tremendous weight landed on her back, and his fingers circled her throat.

“I will not let you destroy more lives!” Akrij bellowed.

He squeezed, choking her, taking her breath. Her lungs screamed for air. Rachel clawed at his hands instinctively, though she’d already resigned herself to the end. She only hoped it came quickly.

Darkness rimmed her vision of the high grasses in front of her. Spots exploded before her eyes. The hum of shuttles overhead and a strange buzzing sound filled her ears. Then the blackness descended, finishing it, making it all go away. Rachel fell into the abyss. It was a relief to not have to fight anymore.

* * * *

The emperors’ shuttle had barely landed when Erybet slapped the latch release and hurtled out. Breft and his Global Security officers were already surrounding Rachel and Akrij’s still bodies, rolling the demented Nobek off Erybet’s Matara. Rachel lay facedown, her tiny body splayed across the crushed grass. A sound that was a half scream of despair, half roar of fury, burst from Erybet’s chest as he closed in on them.

Bevau’s shout behind him warned Erybet the Nobek Emperor was hot on his heels. “Erybet! Halt!”

The command only spurred Erybet to run faster. He would kill Akrij for hurting Rachel. He no longer cared why his commander had done the terrible things he’d done. Explanations didn’t matter anymore. The bastard would die.

Raxstad’s body appeared right in front of him. Unable to stop or swerve, Erybet crashed right into the hugely muscled officer. Raxstad wrapped him up in a bearhug, pinning his arms to his sides. Bevau pressed in from behind, holding Erybet utterly helpless. He screamed and kicked at the pair.

Raxstad shouted in his ear. “Your Matara is alive, Dramok! She will be fine. We hit them with a shockwave. Emergency medical is on its way to tend her.”

His words penetrated, and Erybet strained to look over his shoulder at his fallen mate. “She lives?” He wanted to believe that. But she was so still.

Lidon had been kneeling next to her. He got to his feet and joined the men holding Erybet. “She is very much alive. Her throat is bruised, but I don’t think he managed to do permanent damage.”

Erybet sagged in Raxstad and Bevau’s grip, the relief making his knees unhinge for a moment. He recovered and straightened. “I need to see her.”

Raxstad nodded to the emperor, and they let Erybet loose. “Go to her. She won’t wake, but you can hold her for now.”

He stepped aside, and Erybet stumbled to his Matara. He knelt on the ground next to her and lifted her to his chest. Her eyes remained closed and her throat was already showing signs of bruising, but she breathed. Erybet let her exhale waft over his face. He kissed her slightly parted lips, exchanging breaths with her.

In that instant, he had no doubt at all that he loved this woman. The knowledge was huge, threatening to crush him under its weight. Rachel was his mate. His beloved. And he’d nearly lost her. Had nearly lost them all. First Sletran to madness, and then Conyod, who he’d received word was expected to make a complete recovery despite a skull fracture.

Behind him, Kivokan’s hated voice rose. “My Nobek is injured. Let me go to him!”

Lips wrinkling back from his fangs, Erybet gently lowered Rachel to the ground and stood. Kivokan, still cuffed, had somehow been allowed to get off the Global Security shuttle and now stood at the unconscious Akrij’s feet. A small part of Erybet’s brain registered that his former commander was indeed bleeding and from a very sensitive area. Rachel had fought him, had made the strongest Nobek Erybet had ever known bleed. A flicker of pride came and went. Erybet was too angry to enjoy his beloved’s strength.

Breft snarled at Kivokan. “Your Nobek will do more bleeding than this in the end. A small bit of the retribution owed to him.”

The Dramok screamed, “It’s not his fault! His mind broke from all he saw in the war. He’s mentally incompetent!”

Clajak stood next to Bevau, shaking all over. “And you knew it all along. Yet you let him kill over and over again.”

“I was fixing him. I still can.”

“Like you did your Imdiko?”

“I’m still in the early stages of his rehabilitation. Restoring his functionality following the therapeutic mind cleansing—”

Lidon was in his face the next moment. White showed all around his eyes. “You fucking mindwiped him? Breft, no mention of any major medical procedure for Trusec was in his files.”

Breft’s voice was deadly. “Kivokan, did you give your Imdiko an unauthorized mindwipe?”

Kivokan snapped his mouth shut. He shrank from the threatening Nobeks that loomed all around him.

“Explain this now, Kivokan, or I will tear your heart out of your chest this very instant,” Bevau growled.

“And not one of us will stop him,” Breft added.

“I had no choice,” Kivokan said. “He came to find the best location for the home we were going to build. When he found Akrij’s shuttle here, he went in the stables and found—”

Kivokan stopped. He sagged to the ground at his insensible Nobek’s feet. “I had to do it. Trusec went insane from the shock. He couldn’t handle what Akrij had done.”

“You stupid fuck,” Clajak snarled. “You stupid, sick fuck. You wiped your own Imdiko’s identity right out of his head!”

“He was already gone!” Kivokan shouted back. “Akrij wept over it. He actually wept with regret and talked about killing himself. That’s when I knew my Nobek wasn’t lost. He still felt remorse, and that told me I could get him back. It’s just there was so much damage from New Bethlehem.”

No one said a word. Everyone, Erybet included, simply stared in shock at Kivokan, not believing the horror of the story.

Kivokan looked at each of them in turn, his eyes finally lighting on Erybet. “You know what Akrij went through! You were there with him!”

Erybet’s fists clenched. “But I didn’t intentionally kill innocent women. Neither did Sletran. Akrij destroyed lives. He damned near destroyed my Nobek … my entire clan! And you let him do it!”

Clajak nodded. “If anyone deserves execution more than Akrij, it’s you, Kivokan.”

Kivokan’s eyes widened. “You can’t execute my Nobek! He’s as much a victim as anyone else. You can’t—”

Erybet couldn’t listen to anymore. He darted forward, passing the Nobek officers with ease. Later, he would decide they had let him through, to gain some small measure of the abuse they all wanted to heap on Kivokan.

At that moment, he didn’t pause to wonder how he’d gotten through elite fighters. Kivokan’s face, still puffy from the slaps Breft had dealt earlier at the headquarters, smashed beautifully beneath Erybet’s fist. The Dramok managed three hard punches before Kivokan dropped. Before Erybet could do anymore, Breft and Raxstad yanked him away.

Breft’s tone was as comforting as when he’d spoken to the unfortunate Trusec. “That’s all the damage I can allow you, Dramok. I’m sorry. I know he deserves so much more.”

Bevau called, “If it will help, your clan will have a front row seat for his and Akrij’s executions. I guarantee it.”

Erybet stared at Kivokan’s broken face, blood streaming, a number of his teeth now broken. He stood there, feeling all the blame he’d heaped upon himself for New Bethlehem, for Sletran’s emotional agony, for Conyod’s estrangement and injuries, and for Rachel nearly dying at the hands of his former commander, a man he had trusted above all others. And while he would have welcomed the opportunity to continue beating Kivokan and Akrij until they both died, he also knew it would never be enough to make up for the losses.

Erybet staggered back to stand next to Rachel’s still senseless body. He looked down at her, at the bruises she bore. His head fell back and he screamed his grief and outrage to the blameless blue sky overhead, a long howl of unspeakable pain.

Erybet fell to his knees and gathered Rachel in his arms to hold her close. Over her head, he stared at the moaning Kivokan and unconscious Akrij as officers dragged them to the shuttle. His voice grating with emotion too great to fully express, Erybet said, “You gurlucks almost took everything from me, the people I love best. You could be tortured for thousands of years, suffer millions of deaths, and you will never know enough pain, Kivokan. Never.”

Erybet pulled Rachel closer still. He buried his face between the softness of her breasts, like a small boy seeking comfort in the shelter of his mother. It was an appropriate emotion; he’d never known such vulnerability as the knowledge of how easily loved ones could be lost.

Chapter 20

Rachel checked the chronometer when Degorsk wasn’t looking. Clan therapy time was almost up. This round hadn’t been too bad. In fact, the sessions for the last month had been pretty easy to get through.

Only Sletran was still remanded fulltime to the psychiatric facility they’d all lived in since Global Security released him. The rest of the clan remained housed with him, loathe to go home without their Nobek. All three men still required one-on-one therapy six months after she and Conyod had nearly been killed by Akrij, and clan therapy was a given.

The facility Govi had sent them to, and for which Emperor Bevau paid the bill, was as nice as any country club Rachel had ever imagined. It offered quiet gardens, relaxing pools, and plenty of activities suited for everyone from a sedate Earther woman to an action-oriented Nobek. Rachel took part in a music appreciation class as her first step towards realizing her old dream of singing and playing.

Even the therapy room they now sat in had little to show it was actually a medical facility. The vids showed the outdoors in all their late summer glory, with trees festooned with leaves all colors of the rainbow. A spectacular fountain shot streamers of colored water. Rachel knew the window-vid behind her depicted an exercise group of nearly naked Kalquorian men going through poses meant to strengthen the body and quiet the mind. She didn’t dare peek. It made her clan grumpy when she looked.

As if I’d ever want any of those others. They should be happy I’ve got a libido to match that of three men. What’s wrong with a little eye candy, anyway?

Degorsk gave her a smile, as if discerning where her thoughts had strayed. Sletran had established an almost instant rapport with the Imdiko and requested him as his primary therapist. Degorsk had generously set aside his Matara-based psychological training to accommodate Rachel’s Nobek, flying an hour three times a week to work with him and the entire clan.

So many had done so much to put the broken pieces of Clan Erybet back together. Rachel had never known as much gratitude as she did since coming to Kalquor.

Degorsk asked, “Tell me the first thing you want to do when you go home, Sletran?”

The Nobek’s gaze cut to Rachel. The other men snickered, and she felt her cheeks burning in response. Damn him. It wasn’t as if he was living like a monk here at the facility. Degorsk might be in charge of Sletran’s emotional health, but she was more than taking care of other needs.

Degorsk pretended to note something on his handheld. “Okay, and second thing you’ll do will be either a shower or a nap…”

Rachel grabbed a nearby seating cushion and threw it at the comical Imdiko. He yelped and ducked.

In almost flawless Kalquorian, Rachel told him, “I send your Matara my condolences every day. Today is no exception.”

Degorsk snorted. “Cassidy appreciates my humor.”

“Maybe you’ll share it with us some day.”

He winced. “Ouch. That one smarted. And here I was going to give you the good news that Sletran can go home.”

Silence fell over the group. Rachel’s heart lifted, but Sletran’s expression was uncertain. He said, “You mean – right now?”

Degorsk dipped a nod. “No nightmares in six weeks. No lost time for the last four months. Your profile is much improved.”

Sletran licked his lips. “The whole team agrees?”

“The latest tests on subconscious responses show you carry much less blame for the events at New Bethlehem. Coming to terms that it was Akrij who was at fault has gone a long way toward healing your perception of yourself. We all believe you’re ready for this.”

A grin slowly spread over Erybet’s face. “You’ll be out in time for his and Kivokan’s trials. We can celebrate their executions.”

The uproar over the disclosure of what had really happened on New Bethlehem and Akrij’s murder spree had prompted Global Security to remove the Nobek and his Dramok from Kalquor. They were incarcerated at a secret location, from which their trials would also be carried out. It was a foregone conclusion neither man would be found innocent. Only the necessity of hiding them so they could undergo the formality of legal proceedings had delayed the inevitable executions. Their Imdiko Trusec had also been taken off Kalquor, for fear that the innocent man would bear the brunt of public rage, possibly being murdered in his clanmates’ stead. Little had been leaked about his situation. Even Breft, who visited on occasion, had only heard rumors.

“Someone told me he’d been re-wiped to erase all his memories of Kivokan and Akrij. His rehabilitation will include an entirely new identity and history. He could even join a new clan, since his records will show he’s never been a part of one before,” Breft had told them.

Conyod had scowled at that information. “While I can appreciate the uniqueness of Trusec’s circumstances, I wish they’d outlaw that procedure from now on. It’s an abomination.”

Right now, Degorsk’s eyebrow was raised at Erybet’s comments about celebrating the executions of unlucky Trusec’s clanmates. “Are you doing your anger-control exercises, Erybet? Attending all your classes?”

The Dramok’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, Doctor. I haven’t punched anyone in quite a while. However, I’m sure you can understand that I will never be able to forgive what that pair did to us.”

Immediately following Akrij’s capture, Erybet had gone through a period of violent outbursts. He’d not turned his rage on his clan, but more than one staff member at the facility had been forced to fend off the Dramok’s fists. Usually such fits happened if Erybet felt one of his clanmates had been slighted in some way. He’d been released from ongoing care only a month earlier.

“As long as you no longer let what Akrij and Kivokan did to you dictate your life. Don’t give them that power. Remember, you have much to be grateful for.” Degorsk smiled at Rachel.

Conyod nodded his agreement. One slender scar outlined his cheek. It was the only indication left from the beating he’d taken at Akrij’s hands. The same talented surgeons who’d erased the majority of Rachel’s terrible wounds had done a fine job fixing the damage.

He reminded Erybet. “We have a lot to celebrate.”

Erybet smiled at his Imdiko. Their relationship had been healed over the past months, all the secrets laid out, all the hurt they’d inflicted on each other forgiven.

Erybet said, “We certainly do.” He turned his smile to Sletran. “Come home, my Nobek.”

Sletran swallowed. “I want to. But I’m worried.”

Degorsk said, “That’s normal. Remember, you’ll still be seeing me for therapy twice a week, and you’ll have a direct com link. Call me anytime, no matter how insignificant you think an issue might be.”

Sletran relaxed with the Imdiko’s encouragement. “I will. Thank you. For everything.”

Degorsk rose from his cushion. “I’ll let you get your things together. I’ll arrange everything at the dismissal desk, including a shuttle to get you home. Congratulations to you all. And welcome back to life.”

He walked out, leaving them staring at each other. Rachel felt a little unreal. They’d been at the facility for so long, going home sounded like a trip to an exotic location.

In English, she said, “Holy cow, you’re sprung.”

Conyod grinned at them all. “I don’t know why everyone is acting so surprised. Degorsk has been talking about how Sletran will resume his normal life for the last three weeks. We knew we were going back to the real world soon.”

Sletran gave his clanmate a bald look. “It’s one thing to talk about it. It’s another to actually do it.” He blew out a breath. “What if I get out and it all starts up again? The blank periods, the wandering around?”

Conyod put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If the doctors thought there was the slightest chance of that, you wouldn’t be leaving. Look at all you have to look forward to, Sletran. Counselor to soldiers traumatized by the war at the War Veterans Hospital. Advisor for Matara security at the new complex that’s being built on the Anob continent. An offer to teach at the new training center for at-risk Nobeks.”

Sletran chuckled. “I’m not begging for work, that’s certain.”

Erybet grinned. “If you go mad, it won’t be from boredom.”

“My release happens just in time since Conyod’s leave from work is almost up and your new duties as Emperor Bevau’s assistant start soon.” Sletran took a deep breath.

Rachel went to him, eager to convince him to go home as well. She sat on his lap, straddling his thighs. She found he was very happy to have her there. “Not only that, unlike our barely adequate sleeping mat here, the bed at home is huge. It needs you in it. I’ll get cold with just a Dramok and Imdiko next to me.”

Erybet snorted. “I think we can keep you warm enough, though I do prefer our fourth there as well.”

Conyod grinned. “Sletran sleeps on the other side of me anyway, not next to you. You can’t tell me you were cold last night sleeping with my and Erybet’s cocks shoved up your—”

Rachel slapped at him. “Hey! Trying to get our clanmate home here?”

Sletran snickered. He was hard as steel beneath her, obviously enjoying her sitting there. He slowly unseamed her blouse and slipped his hand in to play with her breasts. He growled to find she’d gone without a bra today.

He told Rachel, “Maybe you could tempt me with a little preview of what I can expect at home?”

She casually twirled her finger around a lock of his shoulder-length hair, pretending she wasn’t getting wet from his touch. “Just a little preview. After all, we should be packing, you know.”

Sletran slid her blouse entirely off her shoulders. His head dipped down, his mouth taking custody of one breast and then the other. Rachel squirmed as tendrils of excitement unraveled in her belly.

“Just a little preview? I think I need more than that. Just to be sure.” His mouthing became much more energetic.

Rachel shoved against him, her pussy glowing with radiant heat. “Oh no. I think that’s quite enough.”

“Just the tiniest bit more incentive…” Sletran sucked hard on her flesh, making her nipples ache with excitement.

She was laughing breathlessly as he suckled with brutal ardor. All her struggles didn’t loosen his grip the slightest bit. The Nobek held her easily, not even straining to keep her on his eager lap.

Rachel turned to their laughing clanmates for assistance. “Guys? A little help here?”

Erybet and Conyod exchanged a look. The Dramok answered, “If you insist, my Matara.”

The pair moved forward. Erybet seized Rachel’s arms, holding them up and out of the way while Conyod reached under her skirt to rip her panties off. He unleashed Sletran’s cocks for him, leaving the Nobek ready to pierce her.

“Hey! You’re supposed to help me, not him!” she protested, but she was laughing hard now at their antics.

Sletran slid her up and forward, and he entered her easily. Suddenly all the hilarity was over for Rachel. She arched and groaned as her passages filled delightfully.

The Nobek’s eyes darkened. “Oh, I like this. I really like this. I’m almost convinced.”

Erybet looked down between them and frowned. “Her skirt is hiding everything. I want to watch her take a good fucking.”

His words made everything inside Rachel shiver. Having discovered how much of an exhibitionist she was, the men took every opportunity to capitalize on what was to her a strange fixation. There had been many a promise that they would all visit a pleasure club and put her through her paces in front of an audience. Rachel was well aware they weren’t teasing her. She didn’t know whether to be excited or terrified. She was usually both when she thought about it.

At Erybet’s complaint, Sletran rose up on his knees and laid Rachel on her back on the floor. Her ass remained on the floor cushion, keeping her in the perfect position for Sletran’s deep thrusts. Conyod bunched her skirt at her waist, revealing the vision of Sletran’s cocks burying themselves over and over in her pussy and ass. Erybet pinned her wrists over her head and leaned in for a better look.

Sletran held her legs wide in a vee, giving all of them a good view. “Look at that,” he encouraged his clanmates. “Look how wet she is for me. No resistance to my pricks at all.”

“I love watching you take his cocks,” Conyod said. One of his hands caressed her breasts as he knelt next to Sletran. “All wide open for him. It’s a beautiful sight, my Matara.”

Rachel couldn’t find the words to reply. Sletran’s groin slapped up against her, driving his front cock against that hot spot in her sheath, then all the way up to thud deliciously against her cervix. His back cock thudded in her tighter orifice, creating a deep, dark pleasure that made her writhe helplessly. She had no defense against the demanding pressure building in her belly, not with Erybet pinning her arms and Sletran’s unbreakable hold on her ankles. Adding to the growing bliss was the heat of their stares, watching as Sletran took his pleasure with her. She had no secrets from them. She was utterly revealed to them in every way. They saw everything, and it made her crazy with arousal.

Her head was beginning to toss with the growing storm. Every breath ended in a whimper. Watching Sletran fuck her with an avid gaze, Erybet whispered, “That’s it, Matara. Feel him fucking you. Feel his cocks reaching deep into you. Filling your ass and pussy. Making you want to come. You’re getting so close now.”

Conyod’s hand drifted from her breasts, down to her mound. His heated palm came to rest on the slight rise. It rubbed in a slow circle, putting extra pressure against her sex and brushing her clit with every downstroke. Sletran plunged in and out, harder than ever. Rachel’s whimpers were growing into louder cries. She was going to come soon. She would come with all three watching her as she lost control to them.

“That’s it,” Erybet coaxed. “Sletran’s cock is coated with your cream. I see how wet your pussy is every time he comes out of you. You can’t hold out much longer.”

Conyod joined in the wicked taunting as his hand drew circles faster against her mound. “I can feel him moving inside you. How he’s making your tiny body accept him. I’ll be able to feel it when he climaxes, when his cock pulses as he fills you with his seed.”

“Soon,” Sletran growled. He released her ankles and clutched her thighs in the crooks of his elbows. He pounded against her in a frantic tattoo.

Pressure in and out. Her clit sparking bright flashes. Cocks burning paths deep within. A fierce, growing pleasure, so profound it almost hurt. And their eyes, three pairs of those staring purple cat’s eyes, watching … watching…

Rachel’s mouth opened wide, ready to unleash the scream coming with the orgasm that billowed on the brink of escape. Her back arched, and she strained. Almost. Almost.

“Let us see it, my Matara. Come for us.”

Pure sensation poured through her, as painful and glorious as she’d known it would be. Release finally granted, she heaved with it. The scream she thought would pour from her lips came out in bursts of guttural animal groans instead. Then Sletran moaned, and his head fell back. He jerked against her two more times before his cock throbbed and released liquid heat into her womb.

Erybet leaned down to kiss Rachel’s forehead, eyelids, nose, and lips. “Well done, my love,” he whispered. The he looked up at their gasping Nobek. “Wouldn’t you say, Sletran?”

Sletran smiled, his eyes heavily lidded. “Oh all right, I’ll do it. I’ll come home now.”

Rachel grinned at him. “About damned time.”

“Oh no.” Conyod looked at them all with grave concern.

Erybet’s brows drew together. “Now what?”

“I’m not so sure if I’m ready to go home. Can I be convinced too?”

Thrown cushions flew at the Imdiko, and laughter filled the room.

The End

Other books by Tracy St. John available at Amazon.com:

Unholy Union

The Font

THE NETHERWORLD SERIES:

Drop Dead Sexy

Blood Potion No. 9

Once Bitten Twice Dead

THE CLANS OF KALQUOR SERIES:

Alien Embrace

Alien Rule

Alien Conquest

Alien Salvation

Alien Slave

Alien Interludes: Clans of Kalquor Short Stories

Please visit Tracy’s website at http://www.tracystjohn.com/

and Tracy’s blog at http://tracystjohn.blogspot.com

Follow on Twitter http://twitter.com/@TracySaintJohn

Enjoy the free serialized Clans of Kalquor story Shalia’s Diary at http://shaliasdiary.blogspot.com/

Coming December 2012

Clan Beginnings: To Clan and Conquer

(Prequel to Clans of Kalquor 3: Alien Conquest)

First Officer Tranis has just joined the crew of a Kalquorian destroyer under the command of Captain Piras. Starting a clan is not on the ambitious Tranis’ agenda; he is too busy building a career. Besides, the Nobek who captures his interest belongs to the captain. And the one Imdiko he can’t stop thinking about is definitely not his type. Still, he can’t help the instant attraction he feels for the pair.

Weapons Commander Lidon feels his best days are behind him. Damaged in battle, he knows he should accept his longtime Dramok lover’s offer to clan, but he just can’t bring himself to do so…not when Piras utterly rejects the Imdiko Lidon wants. Now a new young Dramok has his attention, making Lidon wonder if there is something more to look forward to.

The ship’s head doctor questions his military career, wondering if he should resign and return home to Kalquor. Hurt by what he’s seen, Degorsk hides behind an offbeat sense of humor that shocks and keeps his fellow crewmembers at an arms’ length – exactly where he wants them. But one Nobek refuses to be so easily put off, and the new first officer is too much temptation to deny himself. But to trust this pair with his heart? Not in a million light years.

As the trio is pulled together by attraction and pushed back apart by fear, an old enemy threatens the Kalquorian Empire. With no choice but to rely on each other for survival, Tranis, Lidon, and Degorsk are forced to expose their greatest terrors to each other…and themselves.

Mild BDSM, including spanking, anal play/intercourse, bondage, Dom/sub play, forced seduction, multiple sexual partners, and homoerotic situations (m/m/m).

Chapter 1

Nobek Lidon zeroed in on a two-man fighter in his single-man ship. He felt no remorse as he fired on the other vessel, though it was Kalquorian in origin. Taken in a bloody raid by the Tragooms, the two-man fighter was now the enemy. It had barely been off the assemblage phase on the free-orbiting manufacturing station it was stolen from. The target was so new it hadn’t yet received its navigational link-in frequencies.

Squad Leader Lidon’s twenty-fighter force was one of five squads. His home ship, a Kalquorian destroyer, sent plasma bursts and percussion blast volleys at the massive Tragoom warship. The opposite of the sleek lines of the Kalquorian craft, the enemy warship was typical of a Tragoom vessel: put together from a myriad of other species’ best technologies, it resembled something a group of semi-bright five-year olds might have constructed. If said five-year olds were also insane.

The enemy had slipped into Empire space undetected and was now trying to escape with the latest in Kalquor’s famous technology. Five days ago, the marauder had mounted the attack on the manufacturing plant.

Lidon snarled. Clumsy and ill-fitting as the Tragoom ship looked, it was still a menace. Over three hundred Kalquorians had been left dead on the station, another one hundred captured, along with all the newly constructed fighters the Tragooms could fly.

Tragooms did not bother to develop their own technology. They chose to steal what they could instead. That one of their roving bands of misbegotten raiders had gotten so far into the Empire’s space was the very thing the border was supposed to be guarded against. Heads would certainly roll for this fracture in Kalquor’s supposedly remarkable defenses. Nobek Emperor Yuder would no doubt have it publicly taken out on as many hides as he could find responsible.

Right now, Lidon had to concentrate on destroying as many stolen fighters as possible. Like the one his targeting computer had just locked in on.

His fingers flew over the control panel’s lit commands, firing a burst of devastating percussion power on the two-man craft that sadly contained only one enemy Tragoom. According to one of the three vids floating before his eyes, his arms-force levels were low. Thirteen years of manning a lightning class fighter had Lidon confident he could still render his target into only so much space dust. He was right. The fighter in front of his guns broke apart with the first volley and then shattered utterly with the next. The idiot pilot, unfamiliar with the newest line’s configurations, had never figured out how to raise defensive shielding. Cold satisfaction swept through Lidon.

His blood was surging and there were still at least fifty more of the enemy to kill. Unfortunately, power levels had been depleted. He knew by the time he recharged and rejoined the fight, his fellow attack pilots would have finished the job. He grimaced, though he’d personally taken out fourteen of the bastards himself. “Great is the man who can share glory with others,” his Imdiko father, a temple priest, would say.

“Can’t keep it all to myself,” Lidon reluctantly agreed with his absent parent. He sighed and commed the destroyer. “Squad Leader Lidon of Rizpah Squad reporting in.”

The answer was as clear as if the man handling communications sat right next to him. “Go ahead, Squad Leader.”

“I’m out of firepower. Request permission to dock. This fight’s all but done.”

“You are clear, Squad Leader. The captain offers his congratulations on your work. This is one of your highest kill runs.”

Lidon scowled a little. Piras, the destroyer’s captain and Lidon’s Dramok lover for over a year now, knew better than to offer such public praise outside of ceremonial recognition. Especially on an open com link. Of course, most knew better than to call Lidon the captain’s pet. The few that might dare to say such a thing to him would be taught better by his fists.

Still, he’d grown tired of correcting Piras over these niggling oversights. Even the fun of pounding other Nobeks bloody was wearing thin. Reinforcing the fact he had earned his rank and not been given it had lost its charm. He was going to have to have another talk with his would-be clanmate.

“Squad Leader Lidon to Second of Rizpah.”

“Second Squad Leader.”

“I’m done for this little skirmish. You have command.”

“Acknowledged. Second Squad Leader Resok assuming point.”

Lidon headed for the destroyer. Skirmish indeed. There had been few good moments in this fight, moments when he’d found an enemy worth his skills. He looked forward to counting the scorch marks on his fighter, to seeing how close he’d enticed death to come before scaring it off with his warrior ferocity. The defense stations on the Empire’s borders usually were enough to dissuade attacks like today’s. It was getting harder all the time to get a good fight going with Tragoom infiltrators.

The drone of tactical updates and advisories from his com was abruptly interrupted by an intense voice. “Squad Leader Lidon, you’ve got company coming in fast and wagging your tail.”

Despite keeping a constant eye on his vids, Lidon instantly rechecked everything. Instrumentation detected nothing, and he snarled. The lack of information meant only one thing: he had a chameleon-class fighter with signal-cloaking shields closing in. The tail of his craft was vid-blind in the back, not allowing him to call up an image.

A blip sounded, and Lidon noted a lightning class fighter, one of the stolen ones, coming at him from starboard. “How close is that chameleon?” he asked.

“Seven clicks, closing on you at a rate of two-point-seven-five.”

Lidon grinned with feral delight. He was either going to add more bodies to his kill count or meet a glorious death. For a Nobek, both were equally welcome.

Adjusting his heading and speed to mask the oncoming Tragooms from each other, he muttered, “As the Book of Life says, ‘The enemy’s sins are only redeemed when he offers peace or his throat.’ So come on in, you useless blight on the ass of the galaxy, and find some redemption.”

Lidon could see the lightning class closing in exactly where he wanted him. He had to count on fortune to keep the chameleon steady on its path to destruction. His grin grew larger and his hinged fangs unfolded from his palate. He waited for brute instinct and hard-won experience to give him the go-ahead.

The moment came. Lidon pitched the nose of the fighter down and executed a steep roll, effectively turning his course at a right angle. Now his vids showed him the sleek lines of the chameleon as it hurtled over him and in the path of the bulkier but better armed lightning. They collided with gorgeous force, and Lidon howled his victory.

Damn, he loved his job.

His moment of triumph was cut short as sensors chimed a warning. Several huge pieces of the chameleon flew straight at him. Too many to avoid being hit. Fingers flying over his navigational computer, faster than he could bark voice commands, Lidon veered hard from the biggest piece. He braced as another hurtling missile closed in.

He heard the impact before he felt it. Claxons went off, vids blinked frantically, and a flash of fire erupted in front of his face for a bare instant before the cockpit was doused in extinguishing foam, killing the blaze.

A moment later, the pain hit. Lidon’s leg suddenly screamed in brutal agony, and he screamed with it. It felt as if dozens of huge, jagged blades stabbed into his calf and thigh all at once. He jerked against the torment, but the limb was pinned in its hellish space. The hull had apparently collapsed in that area, crushing and trapping his leg.

Lidon fought to hold onto consciousness in that grim realm of anguish. Gritting his teeth to keep from screaming again, he said, “Squad Leader Lidon to destroyer.”

Only now did he realize the constant relaying of information had ceased on his link. He had no communications. As if to taunt him, all the blinking vids went out. Then the entire cockpit went dark as the ship’s power failed. For a moment Lidon was left in utter darkness and overwhelming pain.

The backup emergency lighting came on, bathing the smooth and now featureless control panel in orangey-red light. Lidon smashed his fist against the panel in frustration. He left no damage. The ship was designed to take the abuse of irritable Nobeks.

He hit it again anyway. “Well that’s just fucking great. Someone’s going to have to tow my sorry ass in.”

The question now was, how badly had he been injured? The leg hurt with a physical misery Lidon had not known in his entire violent life. He stuck his hand in the tight confines where he couldn’t see anything six inches below his groin. Wet heat greeted his touch, and he withdrew the hand. Despite his increasingly hazy vision, he could easily see the blood dripping from his fingers.

Lidon felt the fighter shudder around him. Someone was firing on his dead ship, finishing him off.

His lips were tingling and numbing from blood loss. He could hear himself slurring as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Sixteen enemy dead. Glorious death on the battlefield instead of safe in my bed.” A surge of guilt washed through him at those words, though they were what every Nobek hoped for. Why the ancestors had been so kind to deliver him an end he didn’t deserve, Lidon couldn’t fathom.

He’d face those who had gone before him soon enough. At least the pain would stop. In his last moments, however, Lidon couldn’t seem to stop the flow of words that poured like his life’s blood.

“Well, Piras, you’ll understand when I don’t make our dinner date. Sorry, but some opportunistic gurluck cancelled by killing me.”

Also cancelled was the discipline Piras had earned for his public display of affection. Discipline the Dramok would no doubt have been looking forward to. Lidon had to admit, he would have taken pleasure in dealing it, though Piras would have given in much too easily.

The ship continued to shake as it took abuse from the enemy. Somehow its defenses must have held for it to take so long to be destroyed. Lidon looked forward to his death, to getting away from the pain. It was all for the best; no doubt the damage to his leg would leave him crippled had he survived. And what kind of life could a Nobek in his prime enjoy with such a handicap? Not one worth living.

Lidon welcomed death, begged with all his soul for it to find him. His voice so low that he could barely hear himself speak, he uttered the words his Imdiko father had blessed the bodies of his Dramok and Nobek fathers with: “To every man death must come. Death, the destroyer of sorrows. Death, that dark friend to the sick. Go, and be not afraid.” Lidon snorted. “I was not sickly, nor do I have any hope of being relieved of my remorse, but what the hell.”

The fighter shook harder than ever. The motion jarred his leg hard, making it shriek with misery. Lidon opened his mouth to shriek with it.

He wanted to die, to at least relinquish consciousness, but the hurt went on, and on, and on…

* * * *

Lidon woke with a gasp to find himself in his lover’s darkened quarters. His leg, his damned leg. Fuck. He’d rolled over onto it in his sleep and had lay there long enough to set off brutal pain. He sat up, grinding his teeth together to keep from making noise and waking Piras.

Fifteen years after the incident, the agony still possessed the power to take him back to that hideous moment when his life changed. While Lidon was grateful to still have purpose, to be of continued use to the fleet, the harrowing beginning to his ordeal lived on in his nightmares.

Times like these didn’t invite the words from the Book of Life to comfort Lidon. Not when the torment was intense and much of the sleepless night lay before him. Instead, the long-ago mantra from Nobek training camp ran through his mind.

Pain is my friend. Pain gives me a challenge to show I have overcome and will continue to do so. I worship my pain, and I invite it to give me strength.

He looked over at Piras. The Dramok slept like a rock, fortunately. He lightly snored now, arms and legs slung wide, hogging the sleeping mat as he often did. The bed surface was clan-sized, big enough for three men and their Matara should they be so lucky as to have a rare female in their number. Still, Piras managed to take up most of it. Lidon had rolled to the edge to escape, ending up on his bad right leg.

The Nobek’s gaze wandered over the other man’s body, uncovered by the linens to the waist. Piras was a long, lean, graceful man, tall and elegant to look at. His strong jaw was somewhat at odds with the rest of his delicate face. It probably came from the fact he ground his teeth together so much in near-constant frustration. Those jaw muscles had gotten quite the workout in the last fifteen years. Piras was easily annoyed, and it was often because of Lidon.

Lidon’s expression as he looked over his longtime lover was a mix of affection and irritation. He debated waking Piras for sex, since he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping for the rest of the night. It would be good to fuck out some of the angst from the nightmare, and Piras was never adverse to being on the bottom. However, he was adverse to missing out on sleep. Deprive him of even an hour of his usual rest, and he would be a vicious brute to his crew during his entire shift. For such a docile lover, the captain was an unmitigated bastard outside the sleeping room.

The ridiculous hard-on had shown up despite the torment of Lidon’s leg. He decided the guilt of watching Piras make everyone else’s life miserable wasn’t worth relieving his erection. Nor was it worth listening to his would-be Dramok complain even as he put his ass up in the air for Lidon’s use.

Lidon thought about his altar in his own cramped quarters. Crew quarters didn’t offer much room for personal items, but the Nobek had managed to make a space for the small wooden shelf where he burned incense and read from the Book of Life. Most Nobeks meditated to calm their primal urges. On a destroyer where a man could only move so far and was in near constant contact with others, serene contemplation was a must. Lidon took it farther than most with a near-religious devotion to the philosophies of the Book’s writers, particularly the first prophet Lozatu’s teachings.

Meditation was the obvious choice, but Lidon’s heart was still drumming quicker than normal from his nightmare. He didn’t think he could sit still. He needed to move.

To the bridge then, though little would be happening with the captain asleep. Lidon pushed the covers from his perspiration-sheened body and swung his legs over the side of the sleeping mat.

Even in the very dim sleep-mode lighting of the room, Lidon could see the differences in his legs. The calves were nearly identical in shape, though the right was crisscrossed with scars. The muscles of the lower leg hadn’t been nearly as damaged as the thigh.

Damaged? His right thigh had been demolished. Crushed and torn, it was a miracle any of it had been salvageable.

Lidon looked at his leg with consternation and pride. A patchwork of scarred and lumpy flesh, it was a badge of honor many other Nobeks looked at with open envy and awe. Few men received such a horrific battle wound and were able to keep the limb to show off. In fact, the surgeons had begged him to let them replace the shattered leg with a robotic prosthetic. He’d flatly refused though it meant constant pain and the limp of a cripple.

Pain is my friend, and I invite it in to make me stronger. With such thoughts burned into their brains, it was no wonder most Nobeks were both sadists and masochists.

Lidon quickly dressed, putting on his red-trimmed black uniform formsuit, which had been tossed on the floor from the night before. He debated going to his quarters for a clean one then decided against it. He’d shower and change before his regular shift. For now, he needed to be engrossed in official business.

Putting his knee-high boot on the afflicted leg was an exercise in torture, and he hissed despite efforts not to. Piras didn’t react, continuing to snore his way through the night.

Lidon got to his feet, putting his weight on his left leg as he reached for his brace. The stiff metal contraption kept his weakened leg from collapsing under him. It fit over his boot and ran all the way up to his groin. The thing looked like an ancient torture device, which was why Lidon used it instead of one of the newer invisible-field braces. The brace elicited respect from other Nobeks. Unfortunately, it also made medics pester him to submit to more surgeries. Particularly a certain Imdiko he knew, when Lidon was able to corner him and force him into a conversation.

Lidon’s utility belt with its collection of tools and knives went on his waist, and he was ready to see how the destroyer’s nightshift was doing. He limped to the door, and it hissed open, letting in a wedge of light. Piras sighed and rolled over. He didn’t wake. Leaving his lover slumbering, Lidon slipped soundlessly from the room.

The Nobek limped down the corridor heading for the ship’s transport system. In the crew section at this time, it was an utterly blank stretch of hallway. It was only when he crossed from that part into the destroyer’s more functional middle section that he started to see others. Night shift personnel jerked their heads in quick nods to acknowledge him.

Lidon’s route took him past the medical department. Knowing he was being foolish, but hopeful just the same, the Nobek slowed and peered in. No one was being treated in the examination portion of the unit. A few orderlies and techs were standing around talking. The door to the head doctor’s office near the department entrance stood open, but the room within was dark.

Lidon sped up again as he passed Medical and got into the nearby transport, a tube-system conveyance that would take him anywhere within the ship. The small room he stood in was every bit as bland as the hallway.

“Bridge.” The transport’s door closed and he felt the slightest sensation of motion beneath his feet. In less than thirty seconds the door opened again, and he was in the braincenter of the destroyer.

The bridge during the ship’s normal sleeping hours was quiet, humming with efficiency. The room was a half-circle, with the first officer, captain, and weapons command’s podiums at the center of the flat end of the room. Next to weapons command was the security station with five Nobeks keeping tabs on everything from the destroyer’s defensive shielding to simple policing of the ship’s crew.

Directly in front of those stations were the communications banks, both in-ship and fleet monitors, run by five crewmembers. Beyond them were navigation and piloting, handled by a complement of three.

Along the most forward part of the curved section were the monitors, giant vids that kept the bridge informed of everything they needed to know to run the ship efficiently. Central was the constantly scrolling status-read, giving up-to-the second information on ship’s condition, position, and anything of note happening outside of it. A quick glance told Lidon they were on course for CP-108, a small moon with an acceptable atmosphere for lifeforms such as Kalquorians.

As the Nobek limped out of the transport, the first officer looked at him from the captain’s station with surprise; surprise Lidon shared.

Dramok Tranis, Piras’ second-in-command for only the past four months, was young for his rank. Very young. Thirty years Lidon’s junior, he nevertheless carried himself with maturity and assurance. Even now, caught off guard by Lidon’s sudden appearance, there was only a slight widening of eyes and steady stare to betray his concern.

The first officer’s deep voice was smooth, betraying nothing of his feelings as he acknowledged Lidon. “Weapons Commander? You’re not on this shift’s rotation.”

“No, First Officer, I’m not. Neither are you.” As the senior security officer for the entire destroyer, Lidon’s rank was only a step below that of the first officer. As Piras’ lover, he could get away with the borderline show of disrespect. It wasn’t something Lidon liked to indulge in. Sleeping with the captain shouldn’t mean special treatment. But with Tranis so new, the Nobek couldn’t help but test him.

Tranis’ eyebrows rose over sharp blue-purple eyes. His slitted pupils widened just a hair. The corner of his mouth twitched. Damned if he didn’t look almost amused by Lidon’s slight challenge instead of affronted or scared, the reactions the Nobek would have expected from anyone else. Dramok Tranis was different, however. From the little Lidon had seen so far, the younger man seemed to know when to let things lie peacefully and when to bite back.

Tranis went back to his readouts, which hovered over the captain’s computer station. He kept his body angled towards Lidon. The Nobek noted the younger man also kept his head tilted in such a way so he kept the weapons commander in his peripheral vision. It was almost a watchful Nobek pose, one that said Tranis wasn’t threatened but he wanted to keep an eye on the situation anyway.

The first officer said, “I’m filling in for Ranem.”

Lidon let his gaze wander just a bit, enjoying the sight of the strong, wide shoulders and chest of the Dramok. The formsuit uniforms Kalquorians wore let a man know exactly what he was getting when it came to other men. With the first officer, the promise was exceedingly nice. Tranis was more muscled than Piras. Shorter too, right about Lidon’s height. In the Nobek’s opinion, the view on the bridge had vastly improved since Tranis came on board.

He made himself stop before his gaze went any lower. “Is Lieutenant Ranem sick?”

“Injured. He insulted a fighter squad leader.” Tranis’ hint of a smile became the real thing. “Five broken bones and internal injuries. He’ll be back on duty tomorrow after the repairs have taken hold.”

Lidon snorted and limped over to the weapons computer station, where a lieutenant commander stepped aside, bowing slightly to his superior. A curved floating platform like the one Tranis stood at, the black podium put everything Lidon needed to do his job well at his fingertips. Lidon glanced at the vids floating over it. The Nobek lieutenant, only slightly younger than Tranis, had brought up all the latest ship diagnostics, security communications, and flight course scans for Lidon’s immediate inspection. Lidon wouldn’t have to punch him for sloppy command transfer, and that was fine.

One item caught his attention immediately, and he read it over with his brows drawn together. “That’s an interesting report from the border defense.”

Tranis nodded. “I’ve been wondering what those anomalous energy readings coming from Joshadan space might be. They look like power signatures from ships, but the defense stations can’t lock down a source.”

“If those are ships, they’re not answering communication attempts.” Lidon’s eyes narrowed. The border defense on the perimeter between the Empire and Joshadan space was thought by many to be a joke, more a punishment for misbehaving Nobek soldiers than real duty. Joshadans were a peaceful lot and not interested in technology beyond what they absolutely needed. Kalquor provided the small world and its colonies with defense, which typically consisted of nothing more than beating back the occasional Tragoom raid. It was certainly not as exciting as manning the border with Bi’is territorial space. A destroyer sweep in this section of the Empire, such as what they were doing now, was considered akin to taking a vacation.

Underlining the typical attitude for the Kalquorian-Joshadan border, the weapons lieutenant muttered, “I can’t imagine anything dangerous coming from Joshada.”

Lidon shot him a glance. “‘There is nothing as dangerous as not recognizing the potential for danger.’”

“Sir?”

Tranis’ voice came from Lidon’s left. “The Book of Life, right?”

Lidon turned his attention to the first officer, restraining the urge to smile. Young ones rarely paid much attention to the philosophical arts. “Seventh chapter, twelfth verse,” he confirmed.

His lieutenant persisted. “But what trouble could be coming from Joshadan space?”

Lidon kept his tone steady while acknowledging privately he might have to punch the man after all. A good brain-rattling blow might clear the fog from a lazy mind quicker than anything. “Ships of multiple origins could indicate Tragooms, since they steal from everyone. And we know next to nothing about that new species that’s shown up recently.”

Tranis gave him a curious look. “Earthers? I haven’t heard of them being hostile. Certainly not aggressive without cause, though some do say they strictly adhere to religious precepts. An aide to an ambassador I spoke with said they are easily affronted by anything not conforming to their beliefs.”

Lidon nodded. “They’ve attacked none of the members of the Galactic Planets. It doesn’t mean they won’t, eventually.”

Tranis stared at him, his look speculative.

Lidon quirked a suggestion of a smile. “Don’t look so worried, Commander Tranis. Nobeks, especially ones who have seen what I have, are a suspicious lot. I have yet to meet an Earther, so I naturally expect the worst.”

The first officer snorted. “Naturally. Deferring to your greater experience, Weapons Commander, may I ask if it’s your view that I alter course towards the nearest defense station? To check out those anomalous readings?”

Lidon’s estimation of the Dramok edged up a notch. Young officers climbing the ranks often felt it lessened their standing to ask the opinions of those under them. They had a bad habit of not recognizing the value of a range of judgments. It was nice to know Tranis was not one of those.

The Nobek studied the intelligence carefully before answering. “In all honesty, I see no reason to divert at this time. The defense stations on the border are well armed, each with a complement of fighters. Without confirmation of an enemy, I think you’ll be better off letting Captain Piras make that call.”

Tranis dipped his head. “Thank you for your recommendation, Commander. The captain will be on the bridge in a couple of hours anyway.”

Lidon went back to his reports, a sense of satisfaction warming his gut. Piras was a hard man to serve under, but he thought Tranis would work out fine.

A few minutes later, he sensed someone approaching him from his left. A pleasant, masculine scent wafted to his sensitive nostrils. He looked up to see Tranis standing at the edge of his station, eyeing him carefully.

The first officer wouldn’t have moved so close unless he wanted to have a semi-private conversation. Lidon took a step over, bringing their faces within inches of each other. Close enough to feel Tranis’ warmth. The Nobek’s cocks twitched. No surprise there. The Dramok was young and attractive with a personality Lidon found easy to relate to. Nice fantasy material.

He pitched his voice low, curious to know what was on the other man’s mind. “Can I help you, First Officer?”

Just as quietly, Tranis said, “Maybe. We’ll be entering orbit around the CP-108 in seven hours.”

“I’m aware of that. I look forward to enjoying a few hours of shore leave to breathe something besides canned air. It should make the Nobeks less likely to take Dramok insults personally.”

Lieutenant Ranem’s violent run-in with the squad leader was no real surprise to Lidon. Fights were breaking out more frequently. On this particular pass, Piras had really pushed the Nobeks’ limits as far as their need to regularly get out of the destroyer’s tight confines. He liked demonstrating his power as their captain, which was an essential component to his command. Still, Lidon’s lover would be in a pretty mess trying to control nearly 150 claustrophobic Nobeks with only a third of that number of Dramoks and Imdikos. Sometimes Lidon thought Piras pressed the crew’s warrior breed too hard.

Tranis’ voice lowered even more, his words only breath. “I’ve been trying to get a few crewmembers together for a kurble game. Would you like to participate?”

Lidon stilled and stared at him. It seemed he would be punching someone after all, a jokester of a Dramok. A growl slipped out. “Who put you up to this, First Officer Tranis?”

There was that bare hint of humor from the young man again, sending a spike of hot fury through Lidon’s skull. Tranis’ gaze held his, clearly not afraid. “No one put me up to anything. I know you have trouble with your leg, but the position of hurler defense doesn’t require running. You’d only have to stay upright long enough to get in the way of the attackers so the hurler can throw the ball.”

Lidon’s fists clenched. He was seriously pissed off now. “I am well aware of how the game is played.”

“I know. I used to watch you when you caught and ran for the Lotna Fleet Training Camp’s team. My brothers took me to all the home games.”

Surprise took the place of anger. Lidon blinked. “Your brothers attended Lotna?”

Tranis nodded. “A couple of them. The oldest was three years behind you, so I doubt you ever met any of them. You were amazing. I always wondered why you didn’t turn pro.”

Lidon relaxed. It wasn’t a joke. If Tranis had Nobek brothers, he’d know a member of that breed suffering with a disability would be looking for ways to prove himself still strong. Tranis wasn’t fucking with Lidon; he was offering him an opportunity.

In a much more conversational tone, Lidon said, “I wanted more adventure than the kurble field provided.” He snorted, glancing down at his brace. “I found more than I anticipated. How many brothers do you have, Commander?”

Tranis grinned, lighting his handsome face in a way that made Lidon’s cocks twitch again. “Five. All older, and all Nobeks.”

Lidon couldn’t restrain his own smile. Five brothers? Tranis’ mother had been extremely fertile. Bearing six children was unheard of these days. A precious few Mataras managed to produce just one. “Being the youngest brother to five of my breed must have been interesting.”

“They taught me how to play kurble. I love the game. The trouble is, most Nobeks don’t take a Dramok seriously when he tries to get a match going.”

Lidon could see his point. Then again, there were Nobeks who would enjoy taking apart a Dramok who would dare to step onto their turf. His grin spread. “I might know a few who will take you up on your offer. What’s your position?”

“Hurler. I really could use a smart defender.”

Lidon snorted. “Especially since Nobeks of the opposing team will think you’re an easy cart-off.”

Cart-offs were injured players who had to be carried off the field. It was humiliating to be one of those.

Tranis shrugged. “I think I might surprise them.”

Lidon looked at the young, strong body in front of him. Tranis had the sturdy build needed by a hurler that would be thrown to the ground time and again.

The Nobek thought, You’re certainly surprising me. Too bad you’re so damned young, or I’d invite you to play other games. I bet you’d be an animal in bed.

As opposed to Piras, who gave up control all too easily.

“So are you in, Commander?” Tranis prodded.

Lidon considered. A hurler defender was in the thick of the action, yet Tranis was right; he’d only have to be in the way of attackers, holding them off long enough for Tranis to throw or hand off the ball. Plenty of opportunity for pain while still contributing to his team. And Piras, no fan of kurble and certainly no fan of Lidon playing it, would hate the idea. Somehow, that made the decision easy.

“I’ll be your left flank defender, Tranis.” The position would afford some protection for his damaged right leg. He added, “I’ll see who else I can round up for the match.”

Tranis’ youth showed in that moment as boyish delight suffused his features. In fact, he looked much younger than his 36 years. “Thank you, Commander. I look forward to it.”

The first officer returned to the captain’s station. Lidon couldn’t help but watch him walk away, admiring those muscular thighs and the ass that topped them.

The things he could do with such a fine specimen. Especially a Dramok that was fierce enough to play a sometimes deadly game like kurble.

Amused at himself, the weapons commander went back to his reports. Delicious to contemplate, Tranis was obviously too young to seriously consider someone like Lidon for a sexual romp. Especially when Lidon was not just significantly older, but also crippled.

It was still fun to think about.

Table of Contents

copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Other books by Tracy St. John available at Amazon.com

THE NETHERWORLD SERIES

Excerpt

Chapter 1