Shalia's Diary Book 12 by Tracy St. John (2)

Except not quite. Where Nang had watched me with a sense of loss as I departed Earth, appearing forgotten and alone, he now stared at me with determination. A smile curled his lips, as if he’d won a victory.

 

I stood frozen, unable to move. I couldn’t scream as Nang and I stared at each other. He was the same and yet not the same as I’d left him. The determined gaze that could denote security or threat had not changed. The set jaw, square and matching the rest of his rugged face. The scar on his chin—had I ever asked him where it came from? If I had, I couldn’t remember the answer.

 

His jet-black hair had a sheen to it that had been missing before. A silvery shine in the sun, the first hint of gray. His eyes were hollowed, the shadows deep pools beneath them. More creases on his forehead and bracketing the corners of his lips. Thinner, honed to muscle and sinew by deprivation. Yet with the changes, there was no doubt it was Nang. I knew him though I had no more than two seconds to identify him.

 

A group of people passed, blocking my view. At the same instant, Tarl noted something was up. “Matara Shalia? Is something wrong?”

 

In the sudden silence that descended over my crew, I heard myself say, “Nang. He’s here.”

 

Startled exclamations greeted my words. They had been briefed. Nang’s picture had been posted to every employee of Cifiler’s headquarters. The men surrounding me turned and twisted, trying to find my pursuer.

 

My bodyguards, Nobeks Der and Etin, crowded at my side in a flash. “Where?” Der asked.

 

“He’s right over—well, he was over there, near Dock Twelve.” The group that had interrupted my view moved, clearing the sightline for me to discover Nang was no longer there. “Where did he go?”

 

“Stay with her, Etin. I’ll check.” Der raced off in the direction of Dock Twelve.

 

Etin nodded, his gaze as sharp as his chin and nose as he raised his com to his lips. “Cifiler Dock Security, we have a sighting of Dramok Nang. Coordinate and search.”

 

Meanwhile, I had my own com out. I buzzed Nobek Breft of Global Security.

 

“Matara Shalia, how did you know I was about to contact you?” came the fierce officer’s greeting. “I’ve viewed a security vid from a spaceport on the Esofu Continent. Last month, some seed containers arrived from Haven Colony and landed there. A man was in one of them. It was Nang.”

 

Any other time, the news would have stunned me. However, I’d seen the news vid report of that exact occurrence. It had played before my promo for Cifiler’s small ship cruise aired. It had played during the official launch of the ship. Empress Jessica had joked about it.

 

I should have known it could have been Nang, but I’d been so nervous that night. All I’d cared about was my damned promo.

 

None of that was important now. “Officer Breft, I saw the son of a bitch. He wasn’t thirty yards from where I’m standing now.”

 

Stunned silence. Then he barked, “Are you with others?”

 

“My vid production crew and a member of Cifiler security. The dock guards are trying to locate Nang now. He disappeared a moment after he made certain I saw him.”

 

I gave Breft my location, promised him I wasn’t going anywhere without every last member of my team by my side. Indeed, my Imdiko companions appeared as fierce as Nobek Etin. Breft said he was on his way and signed off.

 

My next coms were to my poor clanmates. I pitied them at that instant. They’d really signed themselves up for a piece of hell when they chose to make me their Matara. Yet none of them sounded anything but angry and frightened that I was under a threat.

 

Naturally, it was Larten I spoke to first. “Before you freak out, I’m fine. I’m in the company of security and my team. I saw Nang at the docks.”

 

“Stay with the rest and in full view of the public. I’m coming.”

 

Next it was Seot, who cursed colorfully after I assured him I was safe and would remain so. If I wasn’t so upset, I’d have begged him for lessons on how to wield profanity with such style. I’d never heard him rant like that before. He finished as soon as he reached his shuttle.

 

“Don’t com Cifa. He can’t pilot worth shit when he’s upset, and odds are, he’ll ignore automatic travel controls in this situation. I’ll pick him up, and we’ll be right there.”

 

When I ended the com, I noted our grim party had gained the attention of many of those coming and going on the cruises. Ugh, this was not the kind of publicity Cifiler needed. I told my crew, “Okay guys, even someone as far around the bend as Nang won’t chance a real confrontation in front of everyone. I’m safe with all of you. Smile at our clients. Don’t let on anything is wrong. They’re trying to have fun.”

 

Bless those boys, they did their best to follow my orders. When anyone glanced our way, the guys grinned, nodded, and waved them on. The act lasted until Breft’s gang showed up.

 

Sirens were wailing when Global Security appeared. Holy Hannah, what an uproar, with at least fifteen enforcement shuttles touching down nearby and scattering Cifiler’s patrons. So much for putting on a good face for everyone.

 

Larten’s smaller shuttle landed among them barely a second later. He trotted up with Breft and Raxstad. As Breft came close, he was shouting at the other ferocious-featured officers, erupting by fours and sixes from the shuttles. “Surround the place! Search the entire pier, including the ships! Make certain Dramok Nang isn’t hiding anywhere!”

 

Sweet prophets. I had visions of Cifa’s company going out of business as Global Security swarmed all over the pier, administrative buildings, and ships. All because of me. As stupid as the thought was, I almost wished I hadn’t told anyone I’d spotted Nang.

 

“Is this normal for a stalker case on Kalquor?” I asked Larten as he grabbed me. As sweat-soaked as my Nobek was from his training class, I was grateful for the hug. Sweaty embraces from Larten are welcome when I’ve been as rocked as I was at that moment.

 

He stared at me for a couple of long seconds. I guess he was confirming to himself that I was okay. At last he said, “We take the protection of our women seriously, my Matara. If Officer Breft doesn’t search every cranny of this pier, I’ll know the reason why.”

 

Breft was still giving orders to his men when Seot and Cifa arrived a couple minutes later. Cifa had Anrel. “She’s not leaving my sight,” he snarled to Larten when they arrived. “I dare that freak to touch my child.”

 

Seot hugged me, sighing. “I wasn’t sure whether to bring Anrel with us or keep her away. It wasn’t worth arguing with our Imdiko over the matter.”

 

Larten hugged both our baby and Cifa. “There is no one better to watch over our child.”

 

Cifa relaxed and managed a shaken smile. He crowded against me. “Are you all right, my love?”

 

“I’m fine. Just shaken. Part of me wants to deny it.” That was true. I knew Nang had been there. Yet with all the hubbub, a small bit asked if I’d really seen him or imagined it. I also felt awful about the trouble it was causing the cruise line. People were shouting questions at Cifiler personnel, who were as confused as the clients were. “I’m sorry about all of this, my Imdiko.”

 

Cifa didn’t pause an instant. He shoved Anrel into Seot’s arms, his expression shocked. He jerked me close, holding me as tightly as he’d held her. “This is not your fault. Don’t apologize for anything.”

 

Breft stopped barking orders at his men, turning to us. He addressed Seot. “Dramok, I’d like to ask your Imdiko if there is an office here we can use to talk privately.”

 

At Seot’s nod, Cifa loosened his hold on me a touch and pointed to the nearest administration building. “We can find a space in there.”

 

A few minutes later, we gathered in a small conference room. Everyone sat down around the rectangular table. Larten grimaced as he sat between me and Cifa, who had reclaimed Anrel. “Sorry about the sweat,” he apologized.

 

“I’d rather have you stinky than not at all,” I teased weakly. “That’s love, big guy.”

 

My goofiness eased the tension. Anrel was a help too. She was excited by the chaos and babbled with a happy, enlivened yell. Breft grinned at her before settling into the seriousness of the situation. “Raxstad is checking with the cruise line’s security office to check if they have any vid footage—ah, here he is.”

 

The big bruiser came into the room. “The surveillance system recorded something. I can use the computer?” He pointed to the device in the middle of the table.

 

“Whatever you need.” Hanging onto Anrel, Cifa jumped up and pushed the computer to an empty spot for Raxstad.

 

The burly Nobek clicked a drive home into the computer’s port. Within seconds, he brought up a floating vid and enlarged it so we could watch it. “Play section four-point-zero-seven-eight, Monitor Seven.”

 

The pier’s shuttle bay came up. A steady stream of people coming and going filled the shot.

 

“Isolate and enhance Sector Two-B.”

 

The shot zoomed in to the extreme left corner. There he was…Nang stepping out of a small, older shuttle and striding to the tunnel that led out of the hill where the bay was located and out to the pier.

 

Seeing Nang in person less than half an hour ago should have been the bigger fright. I guess I’d been too shocked to feel the stab of terror that I did viewing him on the vid. I thought I’d shatter into a million pieces as Raxstad called out the time and monitor and sectors that showed Nang coming out on the pier, stopping to watch me, then returning to his shuttle, which took off.

 

“He’s gone,” Larten said, relaxing.

 

Raxstad told Breft, “I called off the search of the area. We’re trying to pick up his trail.”

 

It was Seot who noticed I was on edge. Of course I was. The immediate danger was gone, so ass-backwards me chose that moment to think flipping out would be worthwhile.

 

“My Matara, he will not get to you.” My Dramok curled a protective arm about my shoulders and pulled me as close as our chairs would allow.

 

“I just—seeing him again. It’s as if someone punched me in the stomach.” I laughed weakly and winced at how screamy I sounded. “Prophets and ancestors, it’s like losing my balance at the edge of a cliff and doing my best not to fall over. But why do I feel this way when I knew there was a chance he was here? When I’ve known he was coming?”

 

Larten crowded against me, as did Cifa on the other side of him. Even Anrel reached out a pudgy hand to me, as if to offer security. Their support helped snap me out of the worst of my fear, as did Larten’s vow to tear Nang limb from limb…whispered in my ear so Anrel wouldn’t hear of such violence.

 

Breft did his best to answer my questions. “It’s one thing to suspect the worst. It’s another to encounter it. The shock will pass, Matara.”

 

I inhaled to steady my thundering heart. Breft was right. He sounded as if he knew a thing or two about dealing with the worst. He’s a cop, what would be a federal-level cop on Earth, so maybe he has.

 

He stood and paced, a riled tiger in a cage, except there was no containment field between Nobek Breft and us. He was reining himself in with obvious effort. He acted like Nang’s appearance was a personal affront to him. A good officer, he took the issue to heart.

 

“The fly-by checks are in place over your home. The trackers implanted on Matara Shalia and the baby are active. You’ve kept in the company of others at all times. That this deranged stalker came as near as he did today tells me we need more.”

 

“I should hire around-the-clock personal bodyguards.” Seot said.

 

“You could, and no doubt you’d be able to afford the best money could buy. But the absolute best you can get would be Global Security officers. We’re not for sale, but I can assign men to Matara Shalia and Anrel.”

 

Seot didn’t bother to ask the rest of us for our opinions. We all had the same idea on that matter anyway. “We welcome your men’s assistance, Officer Breft. Thank you.”

 

Breft flashed his teeth—he could have been smiling, grimacing, or snarling. Or all three. “Dramok Nang has serious problems showing himself so openly. If he’s foolish enough to do it again, we’ll catch him.”

 

Raxstad shook his head, his dreadlocks whispering over his boulder shoulders. “I’d seen everything when I viewed that vid of him jumping out of a seed transport. Only someone rabidly desperate would contemplate such a thing. Three days of travel in a space too cramped to turn in, in utter darkness with barely a sufficient amount of air to make it? No sane person would consider it. To actually do it—I’m at a loss for words.”

 

“You’re freaking me out worse than before,” I said.

 

“I’m sorry, but you should know the lengths he’s gone to in order to find you.” Raxstad looked us over. “Guard yourselves well. I’ve never encountered anyone like this Nang.”

 

“Nor I. And I’ve dealt with some pretty hard characters.” Breft drew a breath. “I suppose you will all go straight home?”

 

Nods all around. Nobody would be able to work for the rest of the day, not with our sense of security shattered as it had been.

 

“I’ll have some men escort you. They’ll remain in place until we put your assigned bodyguards in place.”

 

“Thank you,” Seot said again. “You have my gratitude for all you’re doing for my Matara.”

 

As we rose and readied to leave, Breft and Raxstad gave each other an intense look. Raxstad shook his head slightly. Breft’s lips pressed together. My concern edged up a notch.

 

When the badasses are worried, I get scared.

 

After some discussion, it was decided I would ride home in a police shuttle. Cifa and Anrel rode in another. Nang couldn’t target me and the baby at once, not that we thought he was messed up enough to come after either of us while we rode with Global Security.

 

Then again, no one had expected him to show up in broad daylight when I had a slew of companions with me. I kept replaying the gazes Breft and Raxstad exchanged. Maybe they suspected he was a lot more unbalanced than we’d been led to believe.

 

A third Global Security shuttle kept pace with Seot and Larten’s vehicles as we wended home. Our little bay in the rock was crowded with all those shuttles. We had twelve officers inspecting the home, learning all the avenues into it, interviewing the staff for their schedules and routines, and consulting with each other on the best plan to keep the clan, especially Anrel and me, safe.

 

It was hectic and weird for about three hours before we started to settle into something that approached normalcy. Ha! Like having armored cops standing at the home’s entrances or patrolling the grounds could be construed as normal.

 

Yet by the time we sat down to dinner, we’d begun to relax. Cifa had even put Anrel down for her nap in her nursery and left her there to slumber. Maybe us parents were a bit obsessed with checking the monitors every few seconds, but at least we weren’t hovering over her nonstop. We were coping in a healthy manner.

 

I had an appetite for the broiled ronka roast set before me. My stomach had rumbled steadily when its aroma had begun to fill the air of my home, reminding me that I’d had nothing since breakfast. My appetite for lunch had been nonexistent.

 

We sat down to eat, our expressions showing pleasure at the kitchen’s usual wonderful offerings. We gorged on a superb meal and oohed over the large dish that came afterward, ready for us to fill our dessert bowls with. Anrel saw the berry sorbet sitting in the middle of the table inside its clear, cooling dome and voiced her demands. “My, my, my, my!” Which is her way of saying, “I claim that for me. It is mine. Hand it over or suffer my wrath, peasants.”

 

We laughed at our insistent queen. Then we began voicing our more frequent concern of her becoming spoiled rotten. I kept to myself the suspicion that soon Anrel would have to share her throne. I might be pregnant, but I’m not ready to test for it. I could be wrong, and I don’t want to get anyone else’s hopes up quite yet.

 

Unbelievable as it seemed, we had restored ourselves. Despite me sighting Nang and the presence of law enforcement in our home, we’d managed to take back our contentment with life. I was smiling at Cifa’s attempts to convince Anrel to use her spoon instead of burying her face in her bowl of sorbet when my com went off. Chuckling at the pair, I checked the message that had come in.

 

No number of police surrounding you will keep us apart.

 

Motherfucker.

 

 

March 26

 

I’m trying to stay positive in the aftermath of yesterday’s events. There’s got to be a silver lining to this, right? Maybe not, but today’s mantra is that old chestnut: when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. And then add vodka. Okay, I made that last part up.

 

Adjusting to police patrolling our home is no easy task. Here are these strangers, roaming all over the place. I know they’re protecting us, but it feels like being in a prison. After all, Anrel and I can’t go bopping off wherever we choose, whenever we choose. Any place I wander on the rock, there’s a guy in body armor in sight. This is exactly the scenario I swore Nang wouldn’t drive me to. Yet here I am. Jailed in my own home.

 

Silver lining: no one from my clan went to work today. Seot and Cifa set up shop in our home, relying on computers and coms to do their jobs. Thank the prophets and ancestors they own their businesses and can set their own schedules. As could I, if I could settle down and accomplish something. I tried and managed to complete a few tasks. Yet I’m frustrated that it’s reached this point. Angry. Scared. I tried to stay busy, but all the angst kept getting in the way. The tiniest peeves kept short-circuiting my endeavors.

 

Silver lining: I can take a lot of breaks. Playing with Anrel, dawdling over lunch, extended training exercises, meditating, and reading a book helped me regain my equilibrium more often than I can count. When an instance of chaos threatened my senses, I indulged myself.

 

One of us was not so easily distracted. Larten can’t train his students remotely. Not only that, but he’s furious over Nang’s threat and not being able to do much about it. He and I worked out together and practiced self-defense until we were soaked with sweat, but it wasn’t adequate to stop the poor guy from worrying and feeling useless.

 

I took a little stroll this afternoon, wandering about the house in the attempt to clear my head after my mind started jumbling from anxiety for the millionth time. As I passed Larten’s private suite, a beastly growl issued from the open door.

 

A Global Security officer was walking past at the same second. He quirked a wry smile at me as I paused in the hall outside the room. He leaned to whisper in my ear. “Your Nobek is unhappy with the situation.”

 

“Can you blame him?” I whispered back.

 

“Not for a second. I’m actually impressed that he’s maintaining this level of control. Push him too far, however, and you’ll have an animal on your hands.”

 

I almost offered the tart comment ‘you say that like it’s a bad thing’. No, Shalia. We do not talk to men outside our clan in that manner. Not even to be humorous.

 

I went into Larten’s personal room, which he’d assured me I was welcome in any time. As the bodyguard continued on his rounds, I said, “Door, close and lock.”

 

Larten stepped in from the balcony. He wore a dark look that was simultaneously enraged and vulnerable. He wiped it off quickly, but I saw. I’d known he’d been putting on a calm exterior for my sake. Well, not entirely calm, but not the infuriated angst I caught a glimpse of in that moment.

 

We stared across the space at each other, over the obstacle course of dropped clothing, hand weights, Anrel’s toys from her frequent visits, floor cushions, and emptied water pouches. Larten, who is so tidy everywhere else, is a slob in his private suite. The cleaning staff has a betting pool for various sports—the losers have to go in and clean up behind my Nobek.

 

Mimicking the floor, Larten’s desk and the low table in his meditation area were cluttered. I couldn’t spot their surfaces for the items crowded on them. Still vid shots. Broken gadgets he would find and tinker with until he got them working again. Small wood carvings he fashioned from driftwood that washed up on the rock.

 

None of the jumble mattered to me. I was concerned for my clanmate, who no doubt felt more caged and impotent than I did.

 

“My Matara,” he said after recovering from his surprise. “Is everything all right?”

 

“Yes and no,” I said. “Yes, I’m okay, no emergencies to report. No, I’m not okay, I’m a prisoner in my own home. I suspect you’re on the same page as I am.”

 

Larten relaxed a touch. Probably as much as he was able to. “It’s unbearable, isn’t it? We have no means to deal with our frustration either.”

 

I moved towards him, stepping around his obstacle course of messiness. “There’s always one fun technique to blow off steam.”

 

He came to alert, knowing full well what I was talking about. Yet he stayed where he was, not coming to meet me. “I’m afraid to touch you. I’m forceful when I’m not upset. The way I feel now, I fear I won’t be able to maintain that small bit of control.”

 

I stopped a foot away from him. Refreshing sea breezes eddied through the arched opening that led out to the balcony, drifting past me, lifting my knee-length skirt to mid-thigh as it swirled teasingly. I didn’t miss Larten’s gaze drifting down in fascination.

 

I gave him a level stare. “The tension has you feeling like an animal. I should tame you.”

 

His avid attention sharpened. “Do you think you could?”

 

If you’ll play along. I thought he might, if only to escape our shared frustration. My own sense of losing charge over my life made me eager to gain power from somewhere, including places I usually didn’t find titillating. Bending Larten to my will would release some of the irritation on that front.

 

I turned from him and wandered about the room. “The rest of your clan come in here from time to time, when your door is open to us. I’m sure you’ve considered the potential to indulge your favorite whim on that front.”

 

“I’m not following you, my Matara.”

 

A falsehood, as well as growing excitement, in his tone. I’d have to punish him for it.

 

First, I had to get Larten where I desired him. “Let’s see. Plenty of hiding places in here. Yet you wouldn’t want Anrel accidentally discovering and revealing your secrets. Maybe you’ve put something behind this carving?” I peeked behind one of Larten’s artworks, a rendering of a scalloped denuges shell. As I’d suspected. I pulled a hovercuff out and twirled the metal ring around my finger.

 

Without glancing at my watching clanmate, I continued my inspection. “Naughty, naughty Nobek. Collecting cuffs again to use on your clanmates. Whatever shall I do with you? Oh, don’t answer that. I have more than enough ideas.”

 

Larten remained silent, but I could taste his anticipation in the air. I’d never assumed control between us before, so I can only imagine his ideas on the matter. Curiosity as much as eagerness kept him from any attempt to grab command of the situation.

 

I discovered another cuff behind a vid projection of Larten’s favorite kurble team. “Two down. Two to go,” I murmured, casting a glance in his direction. I grinned at his enthralled expression. “If I discover the others, I win the prize of a delicious Nobek. And when I say delicious—” I paused to lick my lips “—that means I intend to have a bite.” I snapped my teeth together so that they clicked audibly.

 

A low growl drifted from where Larten stood. Not an angry sound as I’d heard before I’d entered, however. Anticipatory. Excited.

 

Another cuff hidden behind a commendation for military service came into my possession. “One more,” I teased Larten. “One more, and I claim my trophy.”

 

I deliberately ‘missed’ discovering the last cuff I needed. It was behind a row of smaller carvings on a wall shelf. When I glanced carelessly and kept going, my Nobek coughed a short sound under his breath. I paused and looked at him with wide eyes.

 

“What? Did I go past one? Hmm, I’d better check again.” I lingered over my inspection of the shelf, taking my time, drawing out the search. At last I uttered a surprised sound. “Why, here it is! Silly, silly me.”

 

I wandered over to Larten with the cuffs in my hands. Not that it mattered with his ridiculous Kalquorian-fast speed, but I stopped out of his reach. “Transfer control of these, would you?”

 

Now we’d learn if he’d play my way. It would be so easy for my Nobek to take a quick step, grab me, and commandeer the cuffs I’d found. Putting me at a disadvantage was usually his modus operandi. How adventurous was he today?

 

The novelty of letting me take charge must have been too interesting to deny. With a leer, Larten said, “Cuffs, control transferred to the next person who speaks.”

 

“Control assumed,” I said with a return smirk. “Hold your wrists out, Nobek.”

 

Larten, being the good boy he is—okay, being the horny dog he is—complied immediately. I snapped on the cuffs and did the same to his ankles.

 

“Freeze subject,” I announced. “Respond to my physical commands as well as verbal.” Delighted with myself, I walked around my prize.

 

Mine, mine, mine to do with as I wished. For once, the idea excited me. With this one venue being my route to assuming some power in my life again, I was primed to dominate my lover.

 

“First, we should remove these shorts,” I decided. They were the only article of clothing my Nobek wore. I wasn’t sure whether to be glad, since it meant a lot of effort wouldn’t have to be expended to get Larten naked, or if unwrapping him like a gift was too much a denied pleasure.

 

I had sufficient angst in my life. I decided to view it as a positive. I pulled the shorts down and directed the cuffs so I could toss them aside.

 

I took another walk around him, smoothing my hand over his body as I inspected my playground. All those delicious, firm muscles were a delight to touch at my leisure. Shoulders, arms, back, chest, abdomen, thighs, ass. I ignored the twin shafts saluting me.

 

Behind Larten’s back, I paused to consider. More than once, I’ve gotten myself in trouble for daring to spank that incredible carved ass. The notion to do so usually stemmed from an urge to have my own ass spanked. Not on the menu today.

 

Instead, I stepped close to him, letting him feel my warmth. “You need to be marked,” I whispered to him. “You need to show you’ve been claimed.”

 

He shuddered, and a growl trickled out. I chuckled at his enthusiasm.

 

I swept Larten’s hair aside, smoothing it over his shoulder to give me the full view of his skin. He has a few scars as any Nobek would, shiny, thin streaks that are lighter than the rest of his brown flesh. I decided he should have a dash of red.

 

I keep my nails lengthy enough to do the kind of damage my men find so exciting during lovemaking. I dragged my excuses for talons down Larten’s back, leaving stripes on his skin. His intake of breath was loud, louder than his growls had been. “My Matara,” he moaned, a world of delight in his voice.

 

“My Nobek,” I said, emphasizing the my. I bit into his shoulder, leaving indentations there. Then the other shoulder. I scratched him again. “Now everyone can tell you belong to me.”

 

I moved around him, coming to stand before his quivering body. Larten’s cocks were swollen to the point they appeared ready to burst. I captured the drop of pre-cum on the primary’s tip and licked it off my finger. “How sweet,” I purred before dragging my nails down his chest and ribs.

 

Larten’s kitty-cat pupils were huge, eclipsing the irises of his eyes. His fangs were down, but he didn’t attempt to use them on me. He stared and snarled with a leer twisting his lips upward. Scary, dangerous Nobek. I had him helpless as far as I could tell, but a flare of delicious terror heated my insides.

 

I had to delay the moment by kicking a few of the scattered bits of untidy mess out of the way. “So messy in here. I should leave you like this for forcing me to clear a space. I don’t appreciate having to clean up to enjoy you,” I chastised. “You’ll have to make it up to me.”

 

I cleared the room I required and instructed the cuffs to place Larten on his back on the floor. I stared down at him, his body horizontal, his cocks vertical. “Ooh, this I don’t mind finding lying about on the floor. I can do a lot with this.”

 

“I’d enjoy that,” Larten managed, his words slurred. Talking through those long fangs is difficult.

 

“Think so?” I smirked. “We’ll see.”

 

I shed my clothes, getting naked and enjoying how his breath quickened and his shafts jerked. A woman does need the man she loves to tell her she’s attractive now and again. I try not to fish for compliments, so it’s wonderful when they’re offered so readily.

 

“Now what shall I do with you next?” I wondered out loud as I fondled my breasts. Larten’s gaze was hot as I rubbed and pinched them, giving myself exciting sensations, making my nipples harder than they already were. “Or should I do anything at all with you? I’m doing fine on my own.”

 

I demonstrated by moving my fingers between my legs. My dominance turn was doing a number on me, all right. I showed Larten how wet I’d gotten before stroking my slick pussy more. I groaned as I found all my favorite spots where I delight in being caressed. Fire blazed from my cunt into my belly. I sighed. Larten groaned in response.

 

“Please, my Matara. Let me pleasure you.”

 

“You are. Look at me, Larten. Look.”

 

I placed my feet on either side of his head, giving him a view of my pussy as I stroked it. He lurched against his cuffs when I buried my fingers within myself. My knees trembled as thrills of excitement raced through me.

 

“My Matara. My mouth is yours. Please.”

 

I had planned to force him to wait, but I hadn’t taken into account my own eagerness. I was more than ready to be tasted.

 

Facing so that I could enjoy the view of his cocks, I sank down on my knees and lowered my hips. Larten didn’t wait for me to get to him. He lunged up and engulfed me with lips and tongue. I groaned as I settled down to let him serve me.

 

Serve me, he did. Maybe Larten worked harder because he didn’t have the use of his hands. Or maybe because he knew I usually preferred to surrender. At any rate, he licked and sucked and kissed with ardent enthusiasm that made my eyes roll in ecstasy. His rough tongue caught at my tender flesh in a fashion that was too delicious to describe.

 

I suppose I could have been a more demanding mistress, but I’m a firm believer in rewarding effort. Besides, my Nobek’s cocks were a yummy temptation. It was all too easy to lean over and close my lips over his primary shaft.

 

Larten writhed as I sank down, taking him deep. Again, it was a heady sense of power, strengthening me once more. I was in charge of my Nobek’s pleasure. Yet I was serving him too, as I always desired to. Were the growing jolts of bliss from doing as I wished with him, or that I fulfilled his urges? That was a question to consider, but not at the moment. In that instance, I was all about the delights of devouring and being devoured.

 

Larten’s musky-sweet-spicy flavor filled my head, adding to the flares of excitement in my belly. As I swallowed my lover’s shaft, he dove in deeper, thrilling me to the core. Heated pulses throbbed through me. His tongue alternated between laving my folds and stabbing into my pussy. He moaned and growled as he enjoyed me…as I enjoyed him enjoying me.

 

A nova of sensation speared into my depths. Enthralled with the feelings, I rubbed against Larten’s lips, putting my clit in heady contact with his flesh. Oh, that was amazing. As I sucked hard on his cock, tasting the added saltiness of pre-cum, I ground harder.

 

My Nobek’s tongue captured the swollen bit, and he sucked me in turn. I moaned around the shaft in my mouth and moved back and forth against him, forcing him to serve me in the manner that felt best. I could have ridden his face for eternity.

 

However, I knew having his cocks in my pussy and ass would feel even better. Larten would have agreed, had I given him a say in the matter. I did not, but I did give myself a few more minutes of enjoying his tongue. Hey, I couldn’t waste my one occasion of being Queen Shalia, Empress of Sexual Demand. I got all I could out of it before the building spasms threatened to send me over.

 

Groaning to deny myself immediate gratification, I lifted from Larten. My girl parts tingled and tickled and begged to remain on his warm mouth, but I had to make certain my Nobek was taken care of too.

 

I straddled his hips and stared down at him. That naughty boy was licking my juices clean from all around his mouth. “Holy shit,” I told him. “I never realized until now what a long tongue you have. No wonder you’re so adept at making me happy.”

 

He grinned. Damn if he didn’t lick the tip of his own nose. Unreal.

 

More importantly, he had ceased to look consumed with helpless anguish. He was the old Larten having sex: fierce, joyful, and eager. I warmed, knowing I done well. And that my Nobek has a crazy long tongue. I can’t forget the importance of that. It turned me weak all over.

 

It took some doing to focus my attention lower. I reminded Larten and myself who was in charge by scoring his chest and abdomen with another swipe of my nails. He yelled, “Yes! Do it again!”

 

I answered, “No. You want it too much. I have other plans for you.”

 

His eyes brightened at that. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so delighted if he’d known what was in store for him.

 

Larten is my beast. I love an animalistic fuck on a regular basis, and nobody serves up ferocious sex like my Nobek. It sometimes bothers him how primal he becomes, but Seot and Cifa have more than enough finesse in their arsenal to keep me happy. I wouldn’t change Larten’s powerful lovemaking for the Empire.

 

Since I was in the mood to control, pushing my Nobek’s limits was in order. When I lowered myself on him, I took in no more than an inch or so of his lengths. I remained crouched, staying utterly still, glorying in that small bit of possession that I held.

 

“Matara?” he grunted, staring at where we were barely joined. “Is something wrong?”

 

“Not one thing,” I sighed. “I enjoy feeling you this way. Be a good boy and lie still while I soak in the moment.”

 

He blinked at me. Confusion drew his brows together. He continued to gaze at our sexes, as if willing them to unite more fully. I watched frustration tighten his features.

 

Larten shifted, as if to either warn or encourage me to get moving. I gave him the same expression I give Anrel when she’s misbehaving. “I told you to stay still. Don’t make me finish this by myself, because I will.”

 

He froze. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he wondered whether or not I’d do it.

 

I narrowed my gaze. “Don’t try me, Nobek. I will walk away if you don’t do as you’re told. You can lie here and suffer until Seot or Cifa come searching for you.”

 

Fortunately for both of us, Larten opted to obey. With obvious effort, he settled down. His gaze glued itself to our sexes once more. I never thought a Nobek could be pitiful, but the yearning on his face made me feel sorry for him.

 

Almost.

 

With it once more established that I was in charge of our party, I lowered myself a touch more, enfolding more of those incredible cocks within. It was amazing to sense every minute instance of my body yielding to the pleasure of self-inflicted invasion. The widening of the tapered shafts rubbed in the most wonderful way against my entrances. Because I was paying attention to the details, burying Larten in my flesh became a profound experience. I noted each nuance of our slick sexes as they interlocked fraction by fraction. For such tiny movements, they packed a hell of a wallop. I’m not sure I’ve paid such intense attention to joining in my life.

 

Meanwhile, Larten’s stare remained avid on what I did to him. His fists clenched, but he offered no attempt to work his will. Perhaps he sensed our connection as keenly as I did. Does he enjoy the same things about surrender as I do? Was it a relief to not have to do anything but accept his mistress’s desires? To be excused from all the responsibility? To find fulfillment in serving?

 

I didn’t ask. It would have disrupted the moment to get philosophical. I didn’t want to distract him from the pleasure that left him quivering beneath me.

 

Inch by inch, I descended. At last, my weight settled on him. I sighed to be filled and sat there for a few seconds, glorying in having my Nobek deep inside me. His chest moved quickly, rising and falling with excitement as he looked me over. I was a conqueror, astride my prize.

 

I leaned back, planting a hand behind me, between Larten’s legs. My feet braced on the floor, on either side of his ribs. The position pressed his primary cock against my interior hotspot with crotch-melting force. It felt astounding.

 

“I’m going to take you now,” I told him. “You will come when I tell you. Not before.”

 

His eyes widened. A growl trickled free. Larten appeared elated with the order.

 

I rose and fell over him, taking my time as I exulted in the streamers of molten bliss that danced through me from the friction of our sexes. Prophets and ancestors, it started as rapture, and got better from there.

 

Larten’s gaze was dark and fixated on me as I fucked him. It gave me the idea I should do more than just fuck him. The man deserved a show. As I enjoyed my ride on my Nobek, I played with my tits. I shut my eyes and did all the things that the men usually do to me. Circling, squeezing, pinching, tugging…I raked my nails to give myself delicious, stinging trails. I moaned, drenching Larten’s primary while heat squiggled down to my cunt.

 

That was so incredible, I figured rubbing my clit would be the next step in self-love. Because I was leaning back, Larten had a perfect view of all of me. I got off on being watched as I always do. I slit my eyes open to see my Nobek’s reaction to me pleasuring myself while I fucked him.

 

He looked hypnotized as I slid my fingers over my mound, heading to my happy place. I found my swollen nub slick with need, making it easy to rub. Oh, and talk about feeling good! I cried out as a flare of sensation shot through my pussy, clenching me around Larten. He groaned so hard, my cunt and ass vibrated. Wow.

 

“You like that?” I asked him breathlessly. “You like me fucking my big, strong Nobek while I play with myself? You like me wet and excited?”

 

His cocks jolted within me in answer. His mouth moved, but he didn’t say a word. I took it as an affirmative that he was enjoying it.

 

I certainly was. I stroked my avid clit, making me hot and eager and aching. My whole being coalesced to the area between my navel and where my legs began. All I knew were Larten’s cocks moving within me, rubbing hard where it mattered most, and my own touch applying friction to my eager clit.

 

My abdomen was a clenched fist, squeezing tighter and tighter by the second. Want tends to be characterized as an emotion, but it is also a monumental near-desperation, as compelling as hunger for food after a day without. Want welled up in me, insisting I move faster, insisting I push harder to relieve it. I answered that call, obeying its clamor, and was rewarded with greater want. It drove me, heightening until it suffused more of my body. It was a choking feeling in my throat, a trembling weakness in my legs, a scrambling of my brains. Want demanded to be fed, and it devoured me in its voracious embrace.

 

I’m ashamed to say I kind of forgot Larten in the growing lust that consumed me. Every now and again, as I pounded him into me as hard as I could, I checked on him. Fortunately for my guilt complex, he acted enthralled with the way he was being used. I took those opportunities of remembering there was a wonderful fella attached to those cocks to remind him, “Do not come yet!”

 

As I approached glory, my insides seizing in that final rush, I told him once more, “Don’t…don’t come…until…until…I say…”

 

Blinding white sheeted over my gaze. My body galvanized, coalesced into one silent spot the size of a pinhead. Then I flung wide, a massive detonation that filled the world with fire and heat and quaking.

 

Moments later, the rumbles through my being continued, but I knew the world around me once more. Larten lay beneath me, gasping and straining at his bonds as he fought to not join me in my rapture. Veins stood out on his forehead and throat as he writhed, denying himself in obedience to me.

 

Talk about power. Through the surges of orgasm, I was aware of the responsibility such control placed upon me.

 

Still moaning through lesser thunderclaps of ecstasy, I leaned forward, planting my hands on my Nobek’s chest. I dug my toes into the carpet and rode him harder while staring into his dark, wild eyes.

 

“I love you,” I panted. “I love you, and I order you to come for me now.”

 

With a shriek that was all animal, he let go. He came hard, yelling with each jet of seed he sent into me. For a few seconds, he scared me…not because he looked bestial as hell, but because I feared he might have a heart attack or a stroke. Larten showed more agony than bliss.

 

When I was positive he wasn’t going to die and turn me celibate in guilt and horror, he was amazing to watch. The easing of the terrible tension as the strongest of pulses ebbed. The euphoria that replaced the pained expression. The manner his spasmodic jerking slowed to a sensual twisting kind of motion. Larten went from violent brute to erotic angel.

 

It occurred to me that I’d never so carefully watched anyone climax before. Moment to moment, my Nobek was vulnerable. Open. Nothing was hidden from my view in that unguarded passage of seconds. It was one of the most poignant instances I’ve been privileged to witness. Larten’s soul was laid bare to me as he reveled in the culmination of our union.

 

Only sex? Not when you’ve been given the obligation to care for another. Not when you’ve watched them at their most susceptible, most exposed. It was profound.

 

After I took the cuffs off him, we rested on the floor, holding each other for almost an hour. I listened to the breeze coming in from the balcony, to the sounds of sea avians and waves. To Larten’s heart beating in his chest, as strong as the warrior who owned it. My need to dominate had ended, and I relished being in his arms, held tight in his sheltering embrace. The helplessness had receded. I was no longer frantic. My Nobek had restored me in a manner neither of us would have imagined would have worked.

 

As for Larten, he was relaxed and not so angry for the remainder of the day. I’m not sure what our tryst did for him. Talking about it could have killed the magic, so I didn’t.

 

Perhaps it reminded him that not being in control was not the end of the world. Maybe it was my show of strength that eased his mind; that I’d be okay even if he couldn’t keep all bad things from me. Who knows? The important thing is, we found equilibrium. Together. The same method we’ll win through whatever the coming days bring.

 

 

March 27

 

Even with getting a handle on the matter of feeling helpless, I’m not so great with being shut in all day and all night. I have to laugh at myself on that one. After all, I spent the majority of nine months on a transport ship. It’s not as if I could go out in space and take a stroll. However, the Pussy ‘Porter was spacious, a big beast of a craft. I didn’t feel closed in the way I’m starting to here. Like the whole clan is starting to.

 

A couple days into this ‘siege’ situation, and we’re already chafing to break out of here. Our answer has been to stay busy. We managed to kill off part of the morning with sex. Then we distracted ourselves with work and playing with Anrel. When I did all I could from home on that front, I was granted a secure coded channel through Global Security so I could send messages to my nearest and dearest. I updated everyone on the current situation and told them to stay away. All return messages to go through a coded frequency, in case Nang has figured out a way to monitor coms from family and friends.

 

The guys did the same, and that led to an interesting result from Larten. He called us together in the common room with the best suggestion in the universe.

 

“My parent clan had a wonderful proposition. They said that if we could leave Kalquor, we could stay with them.”

 

Larten’s parents live on Lobam, on a part of the moon that’s sparsely inhabited. They’re kind of a zero-waste, nature-happy clan, living off the land as much as possible. I’m not definite on if they’re more along the lines of survivalists or hippies. Maybe a cross of both. I’ve spoken to them via vid com, and Larten’s mother Gilsa loves to give advice on making my own soaps and lotions fit for Anrel’s baby-soft skin. I wish I’d paid better attention now, since I have all this time on my hands to do such things.

 

I’ll get my chance for hands-on training in that department. We were enthusiastic at the notion of getting the hell out of the house, off Kalquor, away from Nang. Even I, the gal who loves convenience, was practically jumping for joy.

 

“I’ll com Nobek Breft and find out if it’s possible,” Seot said, dialing up the frequency with an avid expression.

 

We were disappointed when Breft didn’t give his immediate go-ahead. “I’ll stop by your home in an hour, and we’ll discuss it,” he said. When Seot asked him if there had been any sign of Nang anywhere, the answer was no.

 

Both items took the wind out of our sails for the next fifty minutes. Breft showed up with Raxstad earlier than he’d promised, and we sat in the greeting room with expressions that said we would stoically withstand disappointment.

 

Breft gave us reason to smile. “Your plan for the clan leaving Kalquor is an excellent option. If we can pull it off without Nang realizing it’s happened for a few days, all the better.”

 

I couldn’t hold back a little cheer of relief. “I thought maybe you were going to turn us down.”

 

“Not at all. In fact, I’ve already put measures in place to make it happen.”

 

“So quick?”

 

“It would solve a few problems, so I’m eager to jump on the opportunity. First of all, Nang wouldn’t know where you are, making you safer.”

 

Raxstad added, “Also, once he realizes you’re missing, it could spur him to come out of whatever hole he’s hiding in. The attempt to track you down could bring him into the open.”

 

“If he’s desperate enough to search, he might make a mistake.” Breft’s grin gave me a chill.

 

“What about security?” Seot asked. “Would we be leaving that behind as well?”

 

“Absolutely not.” Breft was adamant. “I’ve got a couple of guards in mind for you on Lobam. They’re retired there, with no clans of their own to protect. When I commed them about watching out for you, they jumped at the chance.”

 

Larten pointed out, “Com reception is spotty around my parent clan’s home. The area is as remote as you can imagine. I was shocked I got an instant connection today.”

 

“It’s a concern, but with these security guards I have for you…they worked for Global Security themselves…I have faith they can handle any situation. Not that I anticipate Nang following you out there, not if he reacts the way I think he will.” Breft’s eyes glittered as he eyed Larten. “Besides, that part of Lobam is noted for being cautious of strangers. People there prefer their secrets kept quiet, from what I’ve heard.”

 

Larten snorted. “Nang’s presence would be noted quickly.”

 

“And dealt with if others were warned about him, I’m sure.”

 

Larten said nothing, his expression noncommittal.

 

“It’s an excellent location to hide in, even with the communication issues. I can bring a short-distance receiver for Shalia and Anrel’s trackers, in case the unthinkable occurs.” Seot grinned at Larten, as if he knew whatever Breft had been hinting at. It was the first real smile my Dramok had worn in days.

 

Breft’s watchful demeanor eased, and he returned to a more businesslike approach. “What is the range on that type of receiver?”

 

“About a hundred miles. It won’t rely on the com net at all.”

 

“Excellent. I’ll collect that for you to take along.” He mused for a moment. “When you leave, we’ll maintain the same security measures here at your home for a while, giving the appearance that you haven’t gone anywhere. After a week, once you’ve settled in with Nobek Larten’s parent clan, we’ll lift the protections and see if Nang reacts.”

 

“How will we leave?” Larten wanted to know.

 

“During a guard change, at the end of the day tomorrow. We’ll smuggle you onto the shuttle that drops off and picks up our officers. You’ll be brought to headquarters. From there, we’ll move you to one of our official transports, using a series of destinations that should throw Nang off if he gets the idea you’re being moved. I’m afraid you’ll have to ride with convicts being transported to a prison camp off-world. Not to worry, however. They’ll be in stasis for the trip. You won’t be bothered by them.”

 

It made a nice, neat package. Breft had considered the whole thing. I was certain of that when Cifa stormed him with more questions.

 

“What do we tell our companies? Family and friends here on Kalquor? Will they be okay, or would Nang come after them in the effort to find Shalia and Anrel?”

 

Breft tackled the first question. “We will set up accounts on your communications devices here in your home that my men can access. For the week you are supposedly still in your home, you will send me any messages that need to go out. I will forward them here, and our operatives will send them on. They will intercept return messages, route them to me, and I will make sure you receive them.”

 

“Wow,” I said. “It’s a great plan, but a lot of steps, huh?”

 

“That’s the way it must be in order to guard your whereabouts. I advise you to not arrange for an extended absence until the first week is over. Don’t hint you’ve thought about leaving.”

 

My guys nodded, but Breft’s words extended absence rang in my ears. “Um, how long will we hide if Nang never puts in an appearance? What if he waits us out?”

 

Breft pulled in a deep breath. “It won’t come to that. He’s gone to great lengths to get to you. Having you disappear when he’s got you in his sights will set him off. However, I do agree Nang has proven himself to be crafty. He may indeed decide to lay low for your return.” He shrugged, a twinge of helpless frustration creeping in his demeanor. “Let’s take it step by step for now. We don’t want to set a hard timeframe on this yet.”

 

Raxstad returned to Cifa’s list of concerns. “Don’t tell family and friends where you’ve gone. That’s for their protection as well as yours.”

 

“As for their safety, we’ve anticipated Nang might go after someone close to you for information or to grab a hostage in hopes of an exchange.” Breft put on his super-scary face, a mask that makes me think of him eating live animals. “I’ve enlisted more retired security and law enforcement personnel to keep an eye on those dear to you. Nang shouldn’t be able to approach them without detection.”

 

Larten’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the most likely route for him to show himself, isn’t it?”

 

“Along with trying to access to your home in the hopes of discovering some clue as to where you’ve gone.”

 

Raxstad smirked, his heavy features a match for Breft’s ferocity. “Don’t worry about your loved ones. We’re taking no chances that they’ll be harmed. Nang will find himself in dire straits if he comes anywhere within sight of them.”

 

I didn’t have to ask how dire the straits could get. I continue to hope this can end without bloodshed, but if it’s between the lives of our family and friends versus Nang, that Dramok draws the shortest straw.

 

 

March 28

 

We’re in a packing frenzy, getting ready for our escape to Lobam tonight. We have to travel light, so preparations shouldn’t be such a big deal. Ha! Having to narrow things down to the bare minimum is tougher than it sounds. When did I become so high maintenance? I caught myself putting three pairs of shoes in my bin before I realized how stupid that was.

 

Packing for Anrel is another matter. Diapers, diapers, and more diapers to start with. Clothes, lotions, her favorite stuffed animals: bear, zibger, ronka, bunny. How is it one little person needs so much more than I do? She will end up filling her travel bin and half of mine.

 

Larten nearly ended up with her playmat shoved in his mouth when he checked on my progress. “You don’t have to bring all that. It’s spring where my parents live. It’s the perfect temperature for her to roam around naked.”

 

“Except diapers,” I said, trying to fit in the formula bottles and cursing myself for not being able to nurse her.

 

“The livestock roams all over the place. Everyone knows to watch where they step, so she can relieve herself anywhere outdoors.”

 

I stared at him in horror. “Yeah, that’s civilized. She’ll be socially acceptable when she gets back here if she gets in that habit, won’t she?” Then, another thing he’d said occurred to horrify me. “Everyone knows where to step? Everyone except Anrel!”

 

“She’ll learn.” The man had no clue.

 

It was then that stuffing baby items down Larten’s throat struck me as a good idea. “You oaf. She’ll probably think animal poop is clay! She’ll play with it.”

 

He considered. “Yeah. I went through that phase myself.”

 

“Are you telling me that you expect our baby to be covered in shit for the better part of the day?”

 

“It washes off.”

 

I banished him from the nursery before I could turn violent. I added two more pairs of shoes and extra tall socks to Anrel’s bin. She’ll have to wear them on her feet and hands.

 

At least I’ll get a decent workout in, chasing after her to keep her from wading in mountains of animal crap. Prophets and ancestors, save me. For each ounce of shit Anrel gets into, I’m slinging that amount at Larten.

 

It washes off. What an ass. He’s lucky I love him so much, or I might search for the opportunity to shove him into the sea.

 

 

March 29

 

What a night. That’s all I’ve got to say.

 

Okay, so I have more than that to say. As soon as full dark hit, the shift change in our guards occurred. We’d prepared everything in the house all we could…lights to go on and off at intervals, our com systems set up for the links to run through Global Security while appearing to originate from home, our things packed and ready to go. We snuck out under cover, leaving home sweet rock.

 

I hate that we’re running away. The more I think about it, the more I wish I could face Nang. No, I realize there is no debating with the man. I understand he is not rational, and I’ll have damned little hope of convincing him there is no ‘us’. He was delusional to the point of breaking with his clan, and to show up here using a seed transporter. His mind is not working right.

 

I want to confront him so he can be taken into custody. He has to be put somewhere safe so I can live my life. So I can be free and not look over my shoulder all the time.

 

After all, I trained to defend myself against Nang. I’m a fighter, skilled with blasters, pulse rifles, blades, and my bare hands. I’ve been through a sufficient amount to believe I can at least hold him off long enough for the authorities to apprehend, if I can’t subdue him outright. I have considered offering myself as bait to draw him in.

 

But Nang is not predictable. I’m all too aware that putting myself out there in hopes of catching him could easily go wrong. I could be too confident in my abilities, something I must guard against. After all, Kalquorians between the Empire and Earth had been on the lookout for him. He sneaked past them. I’d only have to make a single, tiny mistake, and he could abduct me and Anrel.

 

I’ve not mentioned playing bait to lure Nang out in the open. When we were at the territory’s Global Security headquarters and the idea came on strong, I kept that compulsion to myself. No doubt Breft would have turned down the notion immediately. It would have freaked my clanmates out.

 

We weren’t at headquarters for more than five minutes. We boarded Raxstad’s shuttle, and he took us to his home which is in the best guarded location on Kalquor—the Royal House.

 

Raxstad is clanned to the Dramok who serves as Emperor Clajak’s aide. I guess the Dramok emperor likes to have his assistant close. No, I didn’t tour the Imperial home or even the shuttle bay we landed in. My clan went straight from Raxstad’s personal shuttle to a household staff member’s vessel. I saw a contingent of Royal Guards and more Global Security officers. Glamorous, ha-ha.

 

In our undercover getaway vehicle, we flew to the major spaceport. More clandestine sneaking ensued, with the five of us taken within a hover carrier loaded with supplies to the ship destined for a prison colony. The whole thing was so cloak-and-dagger, I began to feel ridiculous. If Nang was keeping up, he deserved an award.

 

At last, we boarded the prisoner transport. As Breft had promised, we shared it with six stasis chambers, in which convicts had been placed. Besides us were two pilots and four armed guards. I guess the guards were required in case the chambers failed for some reason, allowing the prisoners to get loose. It wasn’t the most reassuring notion to have, but as I eyed the stacked stasis pods uncomfortably, one of the guards told me there hadn’t been such an incident in over a dozen years.

 

With that matter explained to my satisfaction, I joined my clan in watching the window vids. The guys might have been doing what I was; scanning the launchways for any sign of Nang. Surveillance was supposed to be tight throughout the facility, in case he’d managed to follow us this far.

 

At Global Security headquarters, Breft had told us, “There will be no record of the prison transport diverting to Lobam to drop you off. No mention of the plan has been noted anywhere. Logs will show the prison ship going straight to the camp, landing on schedule, and returning to Kalquor on schedule. Nang will have no means of knowing anything different occurred.”

 

I have to say, Breft did quite the job of covering our escape. So why was I still expecting Nang to charge across the launching area?

 

He didn’t. The shuttle lifted off, and we were on our way for our overnight flight to Lobam without any sign of my stalker. We were free. Safe.

 

The weight of the last few days fell off my clanmates. I was as abruptly relaxed and happy as they were. I felt younger, giddy like a schoolgirl. It was wonderful. Wonderful!

 

The guard in charge, Nobek Vuko, showed us one of two cabins for the use of the pilot, co-pilot, and guards when they weren’t on duty. “I’m afraid it’s not luxury accommodations, Dramok Seot,” he said, his gruff voice apologetic.

 

It was cramped with three bunks attached to the wall, open shelving for belongings, a small shower, small table and two chairs. Plus a cooler with pre-packaged food and water for our comfort, and a miniscule cooker. The attached lavatory had the tiniest, most basic toilet facility and sink imaginable. But my delighted mood saw only the good. I crowed with delight to spy the crib in the corner, complete with a soft mattress, clean linens, and several stuffed animals. “Look, Anrel! A nice bed all for you, sweetie!”

 

She shrieked with delight and held out her chubby hands for the blue kestarsh plushie. She yelled her version of the word mine. “My, my, my, my!” I laughed and sat her in the crib to let her claim her prizes.

 

I beamed at Officer Vuko, whose rough face was in danger of being taken over by a grin. He waved off my thanks. “It was Supervisor Breft’s doing, Matara. He has children himself, so I expect he knew this would be helpful.”

 

“I will be certain to thank him,” I said.

 

Vuko told us to let him know if we required anything else and wished us a goodnight. The door shut behind him, leaving our family alone in our quarters.

 

Cifa laughed. “We’re going to be knocking into each other with every step. Our smallest closet is bigger than this!”

 

“I’m grateful all the same,” I asserted. “We got away from Nang. You could have packed me in a seed carrier from Haven, and I would have taken it.”

 

“No kidding.” Larten was more his old self than ever. “I can live with this. But the sleeping accommodations are tight.”

 

“I can sleep in the chair,” Seot decided.

 

“You can snuggle in with me,” I said, testing out the lowest bunk. The others could climb the ladder to the other two bunks. I patted the mat. “My Dramok, you’re the smallest of my mates. We’ll be crowded, but I can’t get close enough to you anyway.”

 

Seot grinned and slid onto the mat with me. We snickered as we tangled legs and crushed hard against each other, trying to be comfortable. “Ancestors, what do they do with guards the size of Nobek Raxstad? My ass is sticking out into the air.”

 

“The better for me to kick, my dear,” Larten said in a growl. I’d taught him the story of Little Red Riding Hood so he could tell it to Anrel. He does the wolf voice so perfectly, and that was how he spoke then, much to my loud amusement.

 

It was a testament to how relieved we were that the next two hours was filled with such laughter. We kept Anrel up late too, playing and enjoying our new lease on life. We finally let her rest when she became cranky with us.

 

I slept with no nightmares to haunt me, my Dramok holding me tight. I didn’t wake until hours later, when Nobek Vuko called at the door to tell us we were in orbit around Lobam.

 

 

March 31

 

I had the opportunity to freshen up and change the clothes I’d slept in before we landed in one of the spaceports on Lobam. Located in the Besyu District of the colonized moon, it was far from the urbane setting of Kalquor’s capital city.

 

I already had an idea of what to expect from Larten. A lot of the Besyu District is arid desert. With temperatures that can literally boil a person’s blood, nobody inhabits the center of this harsh land.

 

However, the outskirts of the desert are more temperate and livable, even at noon. The arid landscape gives way to plains, then woodlands at the verge of an ocean. Larten’s parents lived in the woodlands, about ten miles from the sea.

 

The spaceport was where the plains started to turn into desert. It was hot as the blazes when we got out of the prisoner transport. So much for my change of clothes. They hung damp on me.

 

Anrel scrunched up her face despite the large, floppy hat I’d put on her. She squawked a displeased sound, so I guess the heat didn’t agree with her either.

 

“I remember now why we never visit in the spring or summer,” Cifa said. “Let’s get inside the terminal before we melt.”

 

A yell grabbed our attention. We glanced at two men by a large, older shuttle. I wouldn’t have called the vessel dilapidated, but it had logged its share of miles.

 

One of our greeters was waving. “I recognize the shuttle,” Larten said. “It belongs to my parent clan. Those must be the bodyguards Breft assigned us.”

 

Nobek Vuko had disembarked with us, as did a couple of the other guards. I guess they wanted to be positive Nang hadn’t landed on Lobam ahead of us, though every precaution had been taken to keep him from discovering we’d left, much less where we’d gone. “I know that man. He used to work with my father, years ago. Hatzeg, what are you doing out here?”

 

We met with our new best buddies halfway between the shuttles, the heat making their features shimmer. The Nobeks were old warhorses, all right, powerful despite their graying heads and creased visages. Their bared arms and legs were more scars than skin. Though neither appeared similar to my former lover Oses, they had his demeanor—stoic and self-assured. I liked them on sight.

 

The bigger was Hatzeg, and he gave Vuko a checkerboard grin, three of his teeth having absented themselves at some point in his life. “Look at this young pup. almost as pretty as a boy in his first year of training camp.”

 

“Ha! You can’t see the best of my scars hiding under my formsuit. But wait—let me show you this. It’s my least impressive mark of honor.” Vuko raised his arm to display a long, jagged disfigurement from his armpit to his elbow.

 

“Not bad, not bad. How’s your father Jel?”

 

The other Nobek waiting with Hatzeg snorted and bowed to my clan. He possessed all his teeth. “Excuse the delay, Dramok Seot. I am Nobek Tiron. Let’s get you boarded and out of this heat.”

 

Seot chuckled as Hatzeg and Vuko muttered apologies for letting camaraderie interrupt duty. They had another couple of minutes to trade quick stories as my clan and our belongings were loaded into the shuttle.

 

At first glance, the interior, like the outside of the craft, wasn’t much to look at. My initial impression became more generous when I noted the typical seating had been replaced by durable but softer seating cushions. They had been constructed from patchwork pieces of strong fabric, and I appreciated the colorful charm. The shuttle was sizable, and I later found out it had started life as a moon-bound ground troop transport. Larten’s parents had scored it at a surplus auction decades ago.

 

They’d converted it to not only have bench-style seating that ran along the sides of the hull, but also a nice dining space, all repurposed, repaired, and re-done from home furnishings. The kitchenette and bathroom had older fixtures and appliances, but everything was perfectly functional. A clan could have made a home out of it.

 

Best of all, it was blessedly cool. Whew! I thought Georgia was hot. Besyu was a whole other level of scorching.

 

The shuttle had been left idling. The engines were louder than what I was used to. Seot and Larten gave each other significant glances.

 

“First order of business,” Seot chuckled.

 

“Work on the shuttle’s engines,” our Nobek sighed. “Unless something more pressing is happening with the home itself.”

 

Cifa snickered at my curious expression. “Because Larten’s parent clan is determined to use materials until they are beyond redemption—”

 

“Even then, they keep using them,” Larten muttered.

 

“—repairs to various mechanical items are ongoing,” Cifa finished.

 

“Oh. Fun,” was my sarcastic assessment. I worried that our hideout might fall down around our ears as we tried to stay out of sight.

 

“Don’t worry. My parents have been living sustainably for so long, there is almost always an alternate to whatever has broken down.” Larten was his most reassuring.

 

I stifled a groan. At least my survival skills would be enhanced by the end of this trip.

 

We soon took off, racing away from the blistering border between desert and grasslands. Since the shuttle flew smoothly, I adjusted to its blatting.

 

We had an hour to watch the plain roll beneath us. Hatzeg and Tiron told us about the protective security barrier they’d set up around Clan Denkar’s homestead. “We take turns patrolling it each day,” Hatzeg laughed through his gap-teeth. “Nobek Larten’s parent clan’s power grid fluctuates enough that we have to reset the sensors on a regular basis.”

 

Cifa crooked an eyebrow at Larten. “Property power grid enhancement, then shuttle repair.”

 

“The list will only get longer,” Larten snorted.

 

Tiron added, “Livestock gets through the inner perimeter at least twice a week too, setting off the barrier’s sensors. We use those instances to drill on response times.”

 

If Nang got it in his head to check out parental properties in hopes of catching up with us, he’d scratch Larten’s parent clan’s off immediately. It sounded like we were in for some rough, frontier-type living. He wouldn’t figure on me going to such a location, even to hide from him.

 

If Nang ever did catch up to me, I’d punch him in the dicks for putting me through this Wild West nightmare.

 

Yet I couldn’t help but appreciate the woodlands when they appeared. I’d been impressed by the multicolored trees on Kalquor, but Besyu’s forests were amazing too. The foliage appeared dipped in precious metals. Bronze, copper, gold… the astounding hues were amazing as they slipped beneath the shuttle. Had our sanctuary been based on looks alone, I’d have been a lot more optimistic about the stay.

 

My clanmates had given me cause to fear the worse, however. When the ocean appeared on the horizon and the shuttle dropped towards a large clearing a few minutes later, I can be forgiven for my shock upon spying the beautiful freestanding house and outbuildings that awaited us. More amazing was to find these structures had all the appearance and charm of fairytale buildings when seen up close.

 

The roofs were black shimmering mirrors from the solar collecting panels placed there. That was the only detail that robbed the buildings of pure enchantment. Otherwise, they were as magical as any child ever dreamed a make-believe world could be.

 

Clan Denkar had built their house, stables, and shuttle storage barn from the surrounding trees. The wood itself was as eye-catching as the leaves that had once adorned the crowns of the timber. Where it hadn’t been painted or stained, it was striped brown, white, and black. The natural pattern was fabulous all on its own, and I wouldn’t have thought of enhancing any plank or log any further.

 

Clan Denkar had. Not just master builders, but craftsmen to their very core, they had carved that gorgeous wood into more gorgeous reliefs. Faces of men, women, and animals competed for space with flowers and abstract patterns that never came across as haphazard for all their differences in shapes and styles. I was so enthralled by the sheer artistry that I had little trouble ignoring the three large piles of machine parts and other assorted bits that had been furniture, appliances, and whatnot. Those heaps rose like small mountains behind the shuttle barn, and I made a dim mental note to myself to make sure Anrel didn’t wander that way.

 

Equally unimportant to me were the long-legged flock of swalla, the fat and wobbly pilchok that perched everywhere that was off the ground, and the five massive ronka that lumbered sleepy-eyed wherever they wished, including the lush garden plots planted haphazardly all over the place. One of the buffalo-sized beasts busied itself by scratching its ass against the corner of the house, concerning me that it might knock the amazing structure over.

 

We set down in front of the barn. Tiron was first out the hatch, having a glance around before the rest of us disembarked.

 

Seot and I stepped out, with Larten and Cifa carrying Anrel, close behind. Hatzeg brought up the rear and warned off the ronka nearby. “I wouldn’t mind some steak, so back off until I stow this deathtrap.”

 

Ronka are as dumb as the day is long, but that furry mountain was smart enough to decipher the Nobek’s tone, if not his words. It lumbered off.

 

“Lead on,” Seot invited Larten. I thought he was being nice to let Larten greet his parents first until he added, “Mind the landmines.”

 

“Shit mountain, dead ahead,” Tiron reported cheerfully. “As far as the eye can see, piles of shit, shit, and more shit.”

 

“Language!” Cifa barked. The next instant, Anrel yelled, “Shit!” Loud and clear. Plain as day.

 

Tiron slapped his hand over his mouth, staring horrified at my glaring Imdiko. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—I’m so very sorry.”

 

All at once, I was hit by the goofy stick. The stress of the last few days…our secret flight to get away…the idea that we were going to be living as scavengers, scrounging for our food, wearing skins for clothes—boom. At least my emotions swung to the hilarious rather than depression or more of the helpless outrage that had been dogging me.

 

Ancestors and prophets, did I laugh at my daughter’s sweet, cheerful voice calling out that profanity. A moment later, Seot, Larten, and Hatzeg joined in. Cifa was last after a short war between anger and surprise. He started to chuckle, then howl. We all did, except for Tiron, who seemed ready to crawl under a rock. Or a pile of dung. He was so embarrassed to have inspired my baby’s descent into potty mouth.

 

Fortunately, Anrel had no idea what had us in stitches, so there wasn’t a repeat performance. She laughed along with us, as she always did.

 

The sight of four people rounding the house and heading for us stilled my guffaws. I’d met Larten’s parent clan via vid com, so they were familiar to me by sight.

 

Dramok Denkar led the group, as was typical for the leader of the clan. He was the eldest, but not really that old. There was no sign of gray in his hair, and the only creases I saw on his face were those that came from smiling and perhaps squinting. He and the rest wore their hair pulled back, though his coarse, wavy tresses had rebelled. Quite a few tendrils had escaped to frame his heavy-jawed features.

 

Matara Gilsa was the female version of Larten. She had a tinge of his dangerous aura, a woman with a Nobek attitude. I’d heard she could outdrink her clanmates and was as handy with a blaster as a war veteran. She’d been delighted to learn I had trained to fight. At a distance, I could sense her strength and will.

 

Imdiko Iramas was the low-key, hippie type I thought someone who lived in touch with nature should be. His whole demeanor was so laid back, even his eyelids drooped sleepily. He approached at the rear of the clan, his slow steps leaving him farther and farther behind. He smiled dreamily, as if the whole world was a pleasant interlude. I couldn’t imagine him ever getting angry. Larten said he witnessed only two occasions when he saw any temper from Iramas, and that it had been shocking. “It’s so out of place for him, that I could never forget it.”

 

Nobek Barun was the exact opposite, the reason I half-expected our visit to be a survivalist nightmare. He was in habit of leaving his clan’s almost-zero consumption lifestyle for a month each year to live rough in the wild, eating only what he could hunt or forage and building shelter from whatever he found in his natural habitat. Hardcore, that guy. Larten had stories of Barun returning home half-starved because of poor game or wounded from encounters with fierce predators.

 

Yet Barun, like the rest, was simply but decently dressed. In fact, in all our coms he’d always been the vision of civilization, clean and polite. Handsome, his eyes lit with the same spark of humor Larten often had. It was he who ran ahead of the rest of his clan to claim Anrel from Cifa.

 

“Forget the son. I’ve had to look at him for decades now. Let me at this baby!” he growled, kissing her chubby cheeks and swinging her about to make her scream with laughter.

 

“Oh, how nice of you to bring someone for Barun to play with, someone he can relate to,” Gilsa deadpanned. She gave Larten the warm greeting his father denied, a hug which he returned.

 

“Hello, my mother. It’s good to see you in person again. It’s been too long.”

 

“And whose fault is that?” Gilsa swatted him and turned to me, holding her arms out. “Come here, Shalia. Let me undo all the horror stories he’s no doubt told you about digging up dirtbugs for dinner and walking twenty miles for water.”

 

“He said thirty miles,” I joked, accepting the hug.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t raise him better.”

 

“Hey!” Larten protested.

 

After the initial greetings and hugs galore for Anrel, we went into the house. Yes, there was poop mines to be avoided along the way, but it wasn’t as bad as I’d been led to believe. “It’s picked up daily and added to the compost pile,” Iramas drawled in his relaxed way. “I’ll check the grounds three times a day so Anrel doesn’t fall into anything she shouldn’t.”

 

“There is a containment field around the scrap piles too,” Denkar reassured me. “It’s there to keep the animals out. Anrel can’t walk or crawl through.”

 

I gave Larten a bald stare. He gazed back with wide-eyed innocence, an expression no Nobek can pull off. He’d known all along the baby wouldn’t find trouble on his parent clan’s homestead.

 

Inside the house, the last of my concerns disappeared. True, most of the stuff was handcrafted, repurposed items. The rugs had been woven from old clothing and other fabric scraps. Same with towels and washcloths. Jars and bottles and other containers held homemade soaps, detergents, and all manner of smaller items. The loungers had no doubt been re-upholstered often through the years. Many objects had been constructed from wood. Everywhere I looked, I was awed by the ingenuity that had turned what many might have deemed trash into useful pieces. I became conscious of my own wasteful tendencies.

 

Though filled with recycled bits, the home’s interior was as beautiful as the outside, and not because the inner timbers were as elaborately carved. All the things were crafted to please the eye as well as the unwasteful heart.

 

I was surprised to learn we were eating out that night at a local diner. “Is that safe?” I asked our minders.

 

Tiron answered eagerly, as if to receive high marks in order to make up for teaching Anrel her first crude word. “This area is small and out of the way. Plus the locals are tight-lipped.”

 

Gilsa grinned. “The people of the area mind their own business and take it personally when others try to pry. If that Dramok Nang was to show up and ask about you, he’d get nothing but silent stares. Maybe a blaster in his face.”

 

“What if he offered to pay for information?” I asked.

 

Denkar snorted. “He’d find out how little the locals like that sort of thing. He might not ever be seen again.”

 

Barun cleared his throat. “There are those who live nearby who might have had past issues with law enforcement. People who don’t want to be found. They and their families came here for anonymity. This region is perfect for such men and women to disappear into, and anyone who happens along asking for information, even if it doesn’t impact them, will pay a high price.”

 

That was an eye-opener. No wonder Breft had thought it a good place for us to sneak off to. I decided to not ask probing questions of the locals.

 

Gilsa looked at us brightly. “Who’s ready for a night on the town?”

 

A couple hours later, we were. In the meanwhile, I found showering in rain water collected in a cistern and routed into the house perfectly fine, though rushed. “It rained all last week, so you can have seven whole minutes!” Iramas said with the air of someone handing out treats.

 

Woohoo. Let the good times roll. But I wasn’t put out. The water was warm and the homemade soap smelled wonderful, like a bouquet of flowers. The guys used a different soap, the smell resembling pine. I guess the floral soap challenged their masculinity, which I did not fail to tease them about. The handsewn towels were soft and fluffy.

 

I’d been warned to not bother with fancy duds, and on that account, Larten had been right. His parents wore their simple but hardy pants and shirts, Gilsa included. I have to admit, it was nice to be in the company of a Kalquorian woman who didn’t glide about in gowns. Since the casual skirts I’d brought along looked dressy in comparison, I opted for slacks too. My blouse might have been a tad frilly, but my clanmates had nicer outfits on too.

 

“Will we city-folk be picked on?” I wondered out loud.

 

Seot chuckled. “No more than a comment or two. If they accept you.”

 

Larten had brought along mostly training shorts. “My fathers always lend us some of their clothes. I don’t think you’ll fit into my mother’s things though.”

 

No kidding. Gilsa was almost a foot taller than me, and broader to boot. Her clothes would fall off me. I had training outfits of my own, and I was certain I’d be living in them for the next few weeks. I had every intention on helping out, in whatever small ways I was capable.

 

I’d never been to dive bars on Earth, but I imagined they would have resembled the diner Clan Denkar took us to. Tiron came along, with Hatzeg remaining at the homestead to repair new gaps in the containment field and guard the property. Tiron promised to bring him a ronka roast.

 

But about this ‘restaurant’. It was rough and tumble, the way I’d imagined Clan Denkar’s home would be. The building was constructed of the same wood, but not with anything approaching an eye for aesthetics. Nope, it was four long walls and a roof constructed of crude logs. There were gaps that ensured if people came in during a rainstorm, they would get drenched. It didn’t have a floor. Just leveled dirt underfoot, with a layer of dried leaves scattered over to protect it from turning to mud.

 

It was as if I’d stumbled into a medieval inn. An entire ronka—well, minus the head, hooves, and fur—was spitted and set to turn over a fire in the rear of the place. The tables were sturdy, and the chairs had long legs, similar to those on Earth. Keeping floor seating cushions clean would have been an impossibility.

 

There was a long bar with booze aplenty, ready to go. Most of the people there were standing at the bar with huge mugs and cups in front of them—or being slurped on. Many had plates piled high with meat. Few veggies. Their mothers would have been so disappointed.

 

A big guy with fewer teeth than Hatzeg came over. His deep voice was pitched low as he dipped his head. “Clans Denkar and Seot. Nice to have you here tonight.” His gaze lingered on me and Anrel for a moment. He sniffed and returned his attention to Denkar.

 

“Good to see you again, Utel,” Seot greeted him. That was it for the pleasantries. AS I’d been told—these people minded their own business.

 

Ordering was simple. Denkar said, “Full plates for all of us. Bring us some bottles of the best bohut and kloq.” We’d brought our own juice for Anrel.

 

“I take it you want clean cups too.” Utel spoke with such seriousness, it took everyone else’s chuckles to make me realize he’d been joking.

 

“Only the best,” Gilsa snickered.

 

Utel gave her an actual bow, his gap-grin creasing a sun-worn face. “My ladies, for you, anything.” He chuckled when Anrel clapped her hands together, as if applauding.

 

“What do you think of our high life, Shalia?” Nobek Barun asked when Utel left us to get our order.

 

“I wished I’d brought my gown for the occasion. Larten said it would be lowkey. He didn’t tell me I was going to a fancy restaurant,” I sighed. “They even cook the food here.”

 

They laughed at my joke. Okay, it was a bit more down-to-earth than I’d expected an eating establishment to be. Waaay down to earth. A couple of Nobeks threw knives at targets on at the other side of the room. I swear the guys in the corner were buying and selling blasters, though I took my cue from the rest of the patrons and avoided staring at the transactions. There was a roped-off pit, in which I learned the locals had fighting contests. Many of those ended with broken bones or permanent damage.

 

A place for people to hide, where law enforcement didn’t try to intervene. Yeah, Nang would be off his rocker to come here in pursuit of me.

 

Yet when our food and drink arrived, there was no fault to be found. The dishes, utensils, and cups were plain, but they gleamed and sparkled where they weren’t in contact with our meal. It’s like brand-new dinnerware had been unpacked for us.

 

And the food! That ronka was fall-apart tender, practically melting on my tongue. I’ve eaten at some high-end establishments since coming to the Empire, and none came close to open-fire roasting. The vegetables…yes, there were some despite the apparent lack of enthusiasm most of the other patrons had for them…were crisp-crunchy, herbed to perfection, and undoubtedly freshly picked that day. Anrel was delighted to test out her new teeth on a few stalks. With the ronka shredded so fine, she was able to eat that too, and did so with great appetite.

 

Dessert was a gooey, berry concoction that I’d sell my soul to eat every day. From start to finish, it was an incredible meal. Who needs fancy dishes and tablecloths when there was such food to eat? Or a real floor, for that matter?

 

Only one thing kept me from perfect enjoyment of our night out. Well, two. The blood was off-putting. A couple Nobeks got into a violent argument about kurble and were sent to settle their differences in the fight pit. Anrel squealed, as if cheering the violence on. Barun cheered with her. You’d have thought they watched puppies at play instead of men beating the hell out of each other. Meanwhile, Cifa glanced at me and rolled his eyes. In the end, the combatants staggered out of the roped-off area with their arms slung around each other and bellied up to the bar to drink together. I couldn’t watch the one stitching his own chest up, first washing the flapping skin in the eatery’s cheapest kloq.

 

The other issue I had was when I caught myself examining the dozen people eating and boozing. I searched the crowd, a part of me positive I would spy Nang’s leer. I knew he wasn’t there, that he was a dead man if he showed his face in these parts, but I couldn’t convince the hunted animal inside me. Each time I realized I was scanning for trouble, I made myself stop.

 

Fear will not rule my life. I won’t let it.

 

All in all, however, it was a fun night out. People stopped by the table when they recognized the two clans and said hello. Nobody gave out my or Anrel’s names, and nobody asked for them. Not that it would have been hard to discover who the Earther and child were who had joined Clan Seot. Still, I appreciated the lack of nosiness. They smiled, said they hoped we enjoyed our visit, and told me what a cutie the baby was. When Gilsa asked if any other strangers had been sighted in the vicinity, she was assured nobody had—but if such people did show up, we would be apprised of it. Nang’s picture was shown with the warning he was bad news. Heads nodded. Understood.

 

Signal given and received, apparently. No further information was required.

 

I returned to Clan Denkar’s home feeling reassured. That rush of freedom I’d felt after we’d left Kalquor returned. I could relax. Anrel and I were safe for the moment.

 

Safe enough that my thoughts could turn in an amorous direction. I was impatient for Anrel to go to sleep in the small room off ours. We’d taken the crib Breft had offered for our use, and the plushies our daughter had fallen in love with. Happy with her situation, she cooed and mouthed her toys, her eyes getting heavier and heavier until her little body went lax and her breathing deepened.

 

Then I had the next hour to get through with Larten’s parents in the common room. Ugh, it sounds as if I didn’t enjoy their company in the least, when the opposite was true. We sipped some more of the smoothest bohut I’ve ever had while the family updated Larten on friends and neighbors he knew. It was then that I learned Larten had not gone to training camp like most Nobek boys.

 

Barun snorted. “Why should he? There was nothing here he could have broken that mattered more than him. He had all the woods to run wild in, to learn survival. Denkar, Gilsa, and I taught him to fight as well as any camp trainer would.”

 

I shouldn’t have been surprised that Gilsa would have been Larten’s fight instructor. Old notions die as hard as old habits do. Gilsa grinned when I shot her a glance.