Taken by the Alien Dragon Page 8

  She sighed heavily and held her body as stiff as if she were a corpse. “I can walk.”

  “And fly as well as any naturally winged being.”

  Inside my room, I placed her on my bed. She lay there, fists balled at her side, staring at the ceiling. “Lognx is gone, you bastard,” she said with all the venom of a Tzmeroc. “You killed him.”

  “I did not.”

  “Your commander did. I didn’t kill you.”

  “Thank you,” I replied dryly. “And I returned the favor. What was he to you?”

  “He altered my climbers for me when we went schlepping on Tylooa.” She stuck her bare foot out. “Lognx was going to make another pair for me. They’re versatile and—”

  “And hard as zarkenite. I remember them.” I winced and rubbed my nose.

  “I could have broken your nose.” She laughed harshly, but tears began to fall down her cheeks.

  “Esmeralda, I am sorry. It is hard to lose a crew member. He must have been valuable. But you can get another engineer.”

  “Lognx was irreplaceable. Every member is special. Like family. We don’t let anyone join unless they fit with us like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle. He was my brother.”

  “A human male?”

  “No, a Quaefoi. He is—was—like a brother, a good friend. He could make anything work.” She trailed off, her eyes shining bright.

  “Your fight is with the Hielsrane, not me, Essie.”

  She raised her head at the sound of her name. “You’re calling me Essie, now?”

  “One of your crew members called you that.”

  “Who?” her voice was small like a youngling’s.

  “I do not recall, as I was under the influence of your tranquillizers.”

  “You are a Hielsrane, too.”

  I sat beside her. “It is only a name.”

  “A name that no one with the last name Black will ever answer a distress call from.” Eyes shining with unshed moisture, she gazed up at me, the weight of her past darkening her eyes. What had she endured to reach the rank of commander of her fleet? I had never heard of another like her. Her lips parted and she burrowed her head in my armpit. Her tears soaked through my tunic.

  My fingers raked through her silky tresses, snagging on the colored wire I thought was dyed strands. I pulled them from her hair along with the pins sharp enough to blind any being’s eyes. Suns of Thirren, if I had not ordered her disrobed who knew what other weapons she would have produced from within the folds of her clothing.

  I stroked her hair and kneaded her shoulders and back muscles until her body quieted. My lips pressed into her scalp and forehead. My caudal had just been around her neck, ready to squeeze the life from her. Now, I only wanted to find a way to dispel the pain in her eyes and to dry her tears.

  15

  Esmerelda

  “You are resourceful. You’ve managed to escape me twice, but how have you survived in the verse this long without a home planet to back you?” The question was familiar to me. It was asked the same way people from two-parent households questioned how I survived fifteen foster homes, back on Earth.

  I told him the same as I told them. “It’s who the hell I am.” I threw my head back and howled with real laughter for the first time since being with my silver fire breather.

  He studied me like I might be overdue for a doctor’s visit. It made me laugh more. He was sort of funny.

  “I’m not out here by myself cruising around without any crew, like you were doing. I have my people.”

  “But they are not of your species.”

  I blinked back tears.

  “Essie...” Moddoc breathed, his voice soft.

  “I was thinking about Lognx. He was the only one who was near my height. Five-feet ten inches...gone.” I hiccupped. “I shouldn’t cry like this.”

  He studied me silently then said quietly, “Cry.”

  I laid my cheek against his chest and murmured, “I never ever cry.”

  “You can cry as often as you want with me. We are calling a truce” he said softly in a hypnotic tone that had me nodding along with him.

  “How?”

  “I do not know.”

  “We can examine our situation together, if you are willing,” he said against my hair. “Are you, Essie?”

  “I just tried to kill you. Or are you hiding a twin somewhere?”

  “I am a singleton.” His eyes narrowed. “I have no siblings.”

  Like me. “Listen, Hielsrane—”

  “I like the sound of my name in your human accent,” he said.

  “I called you Silver, too.”

  “You insisted on calling me Moddoc when we first met. Continue doing so,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble.

  “No.” I rammed my fist into his shoulder, but it petered out to just a tap.

  “You are not injuring me,” he said. “Your loss is too recent to discuss our new diplomacy.”

  “Don’t be nice to me because of...” My loss. His sweet words and gentle tone brought more tears to my eyes. “I bit you, stabbed you, scratched you. I am not sorry, Moddoc.”

  “All of that was before our truce,” he whispered. His eyes closed to slits and he breathed in deep before wrapping me in his arms. He held me until my face dried, and the heat of my embarrassment at my outburst had cooled.

  When it was clear he wasn’t going to move until I did, I pushed off his chest and although his arms relaxed, they remained locked firmly around me.

  “Release me. I’ve finished wallowing.” I squinted up at him with a rueful half smile. Rearranging facial muscles was exhausting all of a sudden.

  “Were you being truthful about enjoying my touch?” he asked.

  “Hells, yeah.”

  “Good, I have plans for us for the next hour, if you will allow yourself to relax.” His hands massaged lightly in tiny circles, the opposite of his touch earlier, teasing and kneading my back.

  It was impossible to constrict my muscles enough to squeeze out tears or move at all when my entire body was melting from his touch=. Cradling me in his arms, he pushed me back against the bed. Running his hands along my body, he kneaded the muscles in my legs, making sure to keep his talons tucked in. By the time he made it to my toes I was prepared to be kicked out of the paradise his fingers had created.

  That massage was worth a crate of credit chips. Doubtful that Wrigo and Oyna would agree. I knew what the follow-up was: payback time. I didn’t mind if it ended the way it had last time. I tipped my head up, unsure of whether my jaw muscles were working enough to speak. “Nice, thanks.” When had I last had a massage? Never.

  I sat up and pushed at his broad shoulders. “My turn, on your back, Moddoc.”

  To my surprise his response was, “No, not yet.” He swept me up to his chest and straddled me over his lap facing him. He went to work on the body-lock clasp on my tight-fitting shield. He used his sharp claws to pick apart the dozens of triple-hook wires.

  “I can help you with those,” I said.

  “Yes, but unnecessary.” His fingers didn’t stop the deft rhythm they had established.

  I took a fistful of his hair and twisted it around my wrist. “How often do you cut your hair?”

  “Never.”

  “Since birth?”

  “Yes. It grows slowly,” he said. “The men in my line follow the custom. Do you shear yours regularly?”

  “I trim mine about once a month. Oyna does, anyway. Long hair can be very useful.”

  I roped his hair and threw it over his shoulder, then ran my finger along his neck. I dipped my head and deposited a kiss behind his ear. He continued unfastening my shield.

  “Okay, you’re still annoyed by the choking, aren’t you?” I asked when he didn’t respond.

  He paused. “I did not maximize your pleasure last time. I have not joined with a female in many rotations, so my control was minimal. I will exercise more restraint this time.” He resumed his work.

  “My clothing didn’t
get in the way last time,” I said.

  He pressed his lips to mine in a quick, hard kiss. “It would this time. Without a doubt, I will rip it off you this time, unless you let me finish.”

  “In that case, sir, continue. These getups cost about a crate of credit chips.”

  The last clasp unsnapped between my legs. He sat back and peeled the soft, flexible fabric off slowly until I was completely naked. “More beautiful than I imagined...”

  I pressed my knees together. I had never felt so naked. It just occurred to me that I had never had sex without my shield on.

  He blew a puff of warm air against my face, then my lips. I needed to ask him about that little custom. One whiff and I leaned into it. It was like simmering hot cocoa with cinnamon, the perfect temperature to warm the bones on any night from fall to spring. My eyes closed and I could almost taste it on my lips.

  Gods, what I’d give for a cup, no, a whole pot of chocolate with marshmallows. In fifteen years, I hadn’t come across anything resembling chocolate. I tilted my head back and took a sip of his lips, the next best thing.

  As his tongue dove deep into my mouth, tugging in his gentle but firm way, I changed my opinion; his kisses topped chocolate of any kind.

  I made some half-hearted effort to reciprocate but he brushed my fumbling hands away and laid me on my back.

  “Do nothing,” he said softly. “I will do it all.”

  What? When did I do that — in bed or out? Rarely. I wasn’t sure I knew how to do nothing. I balled my hands into fists and kept them at my side. He would change his mind. He was a male, wasn’t he? I opened my mouth to suggest I help him out of his clothes. I hadn’t seen him naked yet. The thought sent a shiver straight down to my core. I writhed against the cool sheets of his bed as he planted soft kisses down my body, his touch soothing and warm.

  “Clothes,” I breathed, as he pushed my thighs apart, trailing kisses down my leg.

  His warm breath sent a wave of pleasure down my spine as he leaned in, flicking his tongue against my clit. I moaned, forgetting my own self-consciousness. Moddoc let out a soft rumble of his own as he pressed his mouth against me. The soft flicks of his tongue against my clit were tantalizing when paired with his warm, sensuous breath and I tugged his hair, pulling him away.

  “Take your clothes off,” I demanded, my voice quiet in my own ears. A sharp growl left his lips, and he rose, wings spread out behind him. He stripped away his clothes quickly, unfurling his wings, as he kneeled on the bed in front of me.

  Between his legs was a museum level work of art. Silver, pale and medium gray accented the well-defined muscles of his cock. The spade-shaped tip had a concentric ring of muscles and the base was thick with ridges I had never seen before.

  He crouched over me and lowered his mouth to mine at the same time as I felt him entering me. I shut my eyes and sunk further into the mattress, my breath leaving me in a gasp.

  I refused to speak, following his commands, despite my natural inclination to act out. Slow, tentative stokes send shivers down my spine as he pressed hot kisses against my neck, his teeth nipping gently against my skin.

  When I wrapped my legs around his waist in a silent demand, he sped up, his thrusts becoming hard and deep. Biting my lip to keep from moaning at the sensation, I dug my heels into his back. He bit my neck gently, a growled, a low, deep rumble as his thrusts became erratic. Shocks of pleasure ran through me as he buried himself, wrapping his arms around me.

  I knew I couldn’t stop my release and apparently he couldn’t either, because his body was shuddering right along with mine. Pressing a soft kiss to my hair, he pulled me into his arms and rolled onto his side, tucking me against him. With his warm breath tickling the back of my neck, I closed my eyes and reveled in the heat of his touch.

  16

  Moddoc

  Esmerelda muttered and her eyes twitched in her sleep. One of her hands clasped my caudal, trapped tightly between her legs. Her breathed tickled underneath my chin, and I inhaled the fruity scent of her hair and sweet musk of her essence mixed with mine.

  I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Puckered skin from a scar snaked into her hairline. What other injuries and hardships had she endured? I did not want her to know the names of those who had ever harmed her. How could I prevent myself from killing them? Although I would not deliberately hunt them, my subconscious would lead me in that direction. Shifting her weight against me, I leaned down and pressed a light kiss against her temple.

  My lips did what they wanted to do while she fought grief in her dreams. Of their own accord, they kissed her palm and trailed down her arm. Her face instantly relaxed and a small smile crossed her face.

  What am I to do with you, Esmerelda Black? A human, the last species of female I would have thought of spending any length of time with. Certainly not one who had abducted me.

  Could I keep her against Commander Tarion’s objections?

  Keep her as what? A slave? A companion? Technically, it was my right as Dashel had pointed out. Of course she could not be released. Her small fleet would be a formidable opponent against many, and although some of the Hielsrane’s most powerful ships surrounded hers now, they would not always be there. She was too dangerous to our people to let go.

  So, what? I could not imagine her subjugated by me or any Hielsrane commander for any length of time.

  No feasible plan came to mind. I was in no position to ask any female to join me in my disgrace, let alone a commander of her own fleet. I had nothing of value to offer her.

  I got up and retrieved my weapon from the floor, picking up the wires and pins that came from her hair in the process. I considered keeping them. For what? As a souvenir when I returned to... what? Where?

  I went to the cleansing unit, then ordered nourishment and hydration for her. Once more, my fingers tangled in the silky mane swirling around her face. She did not stir.

  There was but one hope, one thing I could do for myself — and for her. I could contribute significantly to the war effort. That was the only way I could help Esmerelda and redeem some of my own honor.

  “Dashel,” I whispered into the comms device secured to my wrist. “Are you on the bridge?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have a scenario to run by you before discussing it with Tarion and Ranel.” The two older Drakon would not like my proposition according to Dashel, whose advice had always been good. Ranel had suspected me of treason long before Thirren was attacked and Tarion was known for being brutal. No matter what he said, I was going to pitch my idea anyway. I just needed advice on the best way to approach him.

  I glanced down at Esmerelda Black. She was sure to help me. Despite our differences, her values were similar to me own. Though for her, the alternative would be losing her fleet, and slavery. I was, of course, in no position to threaten my own people in the same manner.

  Should I consult her? Not yet. I stepped into the hall and locked the door.

  17

  Esmerelda

  Yawning, I stretched out on the bed. Despite taking up what felt like half of the bed, I didn’t bump Moddoc. I’d have to get one of these room-sized mattresses aboard my ship. For the second time, I opened my eyes to a shadow pacing circles around the big oval mattress.

  A sweet, citrus scene caused my stomach to rumble. Pushing a strand of hair out of my face, I rubbed my eyes, sitting up in the middle of the bed.

  “Essie,” Moddoc whispered, learning over me with a tray in his hands. He dipped his face down to mine. “You have been asleep for a long time.”

  “Yeah, and I smell dinner. Or breakfast. Or whatever the hell it is,” I laughed, running my hands through my hair and looking up into his eyes.

  He placed a small tray in my lap, and I dug into the platter of sweet fruit of all different shapes and sizes while he resumed pacing.

  “You left,” I said, sipping a warm, herb infused tea – the source of the citrus scent. “And you didn’t tie me up.”

  �
��Our truce doesn’t include restraints,” he said. Anyone listening would think we had a formal treaty written with a big shiny Hielsrane seal. “The door was locked.”

  “Was it?” I asked with what I believed was the right amount of surprise.

  “You didn’t test it?” He asked with a wry smile.

  “A nap was more important.”

  “You are not my prisoner.”

  I took a long drag from my cup before setting it down on the tray. “So I can go back to my ship then.”

  “My commanders will not allow it.” He paused and straddled the bed, his wings relaxed so that they brushed the floor. There was a definite but hanging on the end of his sentence.

  “What is it, Moddoc? I want to go back to my ship.”

  “That might be possible if—”

  “How?” I crawled in between his legs and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

  “I need your help to restore my standing.” His head hung and his chest heaved like it was hard for him to breathe.

  I released his shirt and cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to mine. “What’d you do?”

  His wings snapped out, sending my hair flying behind me before falling back to my shoulders. Turning, he flopped back onto the bed, before rolling onto his side, an arm draped over his face. He couldn’t meet my gaze. In a monotone, he said, “It is partially my fault that the Pax were able to take over Thirren. I failed to sound the alarm on time.”

  “You made a mistake, that’s all. Hells, I’ve almost gotten my whole crew killed plenty of times.”

  I broke off when his head rolled to the side and he gazed, unblinking at some spot on the wall.

  “Hey, Silver...”

  He closed his eyes. His pained expression was worse than the head bashing he did when he was in my containment cell.

  “Moddoc? Look over here.”

  He glanced my way briefly. To the wall, he said, his voice rough with emotion, “I told you that an ally betrayed us, allowing the Pax to overtake Thirren. But I –