Chapter Two – Taliga
Taliga sat in the middle of the third cargo bay, breathing deeply through his nose before releasing it from his mouth. There was an ache right below his sternum, the likes of which he hadn't felt for a long time, that hitched his breath. It was ridiculous. Years had passed since he has been run through by a jagged blade, and yet the old wound had been bothering him ever since he had brought the human aboard.
He breathed in again. Maybe it was the look in her eyes when she offered to go with them without a fight as long as nobody was hurt. Or maybe it was how her dark eyes contrasted with the pale golden hue of her skin, or her hair, which was thick, dark and shiny. Her curvaceous body certainly didn't hurt. She was gorgeous.
Pure animal lust. That must be why all these unwanted feelings were welling up in him.
The door clanged open, and Taliga looked up, irritated, as Kulog stomped in. He was barefoot, revealing the enlarged claws that meant the other T'shav was approaching musth.
As if he wasn't annoying enough. Whenever Kulog entered his musth, he became unbearable. But the other male had saved his life all those years ago, and they made a profitable team. Taliga was better with people and got them well-paying jobs, while Kulog could punch his way out of almost anything. It didn't make Taliga like him any better, though.
"We got a message from Zon's Sanctuary," the other T'shav said, turning over an empty bucket to sit on. A faint banging came from the corridor, but Taliga ignored it. Kulog grinned and rubbed his hands. "Zon has offered us twice as much as whatever payment we've been offered for the human to return her to him unharmed and unmolested."
Taliga was quiet. There was, of course, no question of accepting the warlord's offer. For one thing, the people they were selling the human to were vicious, bloodthirsty brutes in their own right. Second, if he and Kulog did give her over to Zon, the warlord would likely arrest or kill them. Third was Kulog's history with the Sanctuary.
"I told him he could take his offer and—"
"I think I know what you told him." Taliga unfolded his limbs and stood. "How long until we reach the rendezvous?"
That was another reason that Taliga stayed with Kulog. There wasn't a better pilot in the galaxy. Taliga's own skills were basic. If he was flying this ship, it would take them twice as long to get to any location he wanted to get to.
"Depends on the asteroid belt I've plotted us through. I'll have to pilot through it manually, and that could take anywhere from a few hours to a day or more if we have to stop to rest. But even if we're delayed, worst case scenario is that we get there in four days. Plenty of time."
Taliga nodded, trying to ignore the twist in his gut as he thought of handing the human over to the Wytsian Order.
The banging from down the corridor increased. His hesitancy combined with the noise made a spike of irritation shoot through him. Did that woman have no sense of when to be quiet?
The T'shav grabbed his black broadsword from where he had leaned it against the wall when he began his meditation. He had forged the blade himself. The blade color was a flaw, from when he had had to melt and shape the ore a second time after his first attempt shattered, but Taliga thought it suited him perfectly. Broken once, but remade stronger than ever.
"Has she been doing that this whole time?" He turned to Kulog with a raised brow.
"Yes. I wanted to see how long she could keep it up, but she's getting damn irritating now." Kulog picked at something between his teeth with the long, sharp dagger he always had strapped to his thigh. "At least she's not screaming anymore. 'Let me go, let me go.' I have half a mind to go in there and rip out her tongue."
A spike of anger shot up Taliga's spine. "You'll do no such thing."
Kulog stared at him, muscles tensing. His grip tightened on his blade. Taliga glared back at him. Musth was not the time to antagonize the already unstable male, but he wasn’t going to let Kulog harm the human – their commission wanted her untouched.
"We lose money for every mark on her. They might just reject her completely if she's permanently damaged."
Kulog scowled as he stood, slipping his dagger back into its sheath. He cracked his neck from side to side, clearly waiting for Taliga to blink first. It was a pathetic display, but one that was necessary at this point. Until the other T'shav found a way to deal with his increasing aggression, Taliga would have to watch his back.
A lesson he had learned the hard way.
"So," Kulog said, pulling the word out until it was almost three times longer than normal. "If commission goes down with every mark on her, I suppose it means that delaying a day or two and using her for musth is out of the question."
"Yes." Taliga had to resist the urge to run the other T'shav through on the spot. How dare he even suggest such a disgusting, depraved act? "It is most definitely out of the question."
Kulog's nostrils flared. Another loud thud echoed down the corridor and he whirled, fists clenched. "I'll get that woman to shut up if it's the last thing I do. Get the regenerator ready."
"No."
"A few bruises will be easily healed."
"No!" Taliga pushed passed the other T'shav. A hard, angry lump was in the middle of his stomach, and the scar tissue in his chest gave another twinge. "I'll deal with her. You're at the start of your musth and I don't trust you with her. She's too valuable a commodity to risk."
"Are you saying—?" Kulog cut himself off and stalked away.
Taliga took a deep breath, calming himself. After bringing himself back under control, he headed up the corridor to the second cargo bay, which had been retrofitted for the human's containment. He flicked the door open. She was standing on the other side, her hair in a wild mess around her, the white gown clinging to her in all the right places. Taliga was struck once again by how breathtakingly beautiful she was.
And then he was struck in the stomach by her fist.
"Ow!" Taliga pulled back, more surprised by her hitting him than anything else.
She struck out again, this time her fist coming at his face, but Taliga caught her wrist easily. She punched with her other hand, and he caught that one, too. She kicked. He shoved her backward, making her lose her footing. She fell heavily. The tight bodice of the dress made her heaving bosom look even bigger.
She glared up at him. "When Zon sends his men after me, you'll be sorry for this!"
He had to admire her fierceness if nothing else. He offered her a hand to help her stand. "My name is Taliga. What's yours?"
Why was he asking her for her name? It was irrelevant. If anything, it was a dangerous question. Knowing names led to emotional connections, and emotional connections made it more difficult to do what was necessary when it was necessary. He was already having a hard enough time managing his feelings for this woman. He didn't need to know her name.
"Vanessa," she said, taking his hand.
He pulled her up – and she instantly struck out again, kicking at his ankle. With a growl, he pushed her again. This time she grabbed at his neck. They fell together. Taliga held out his hands, bracing for impact. But instead of hitting the floor this time, they landed on the mattress he'd thrown into the cargo bay.
Vanessa's dark hair haloed her as she fell back onto the bed, pinned between the blankets and his body. Her pupils expanded. Her hands were still around his neck, and her grip tightened. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Taliga almost forgot to breathe. Was he seeing the same draw in her that he felt himself? Or was it his mind playing tricks on him?
It wouldn't be the first time. After all, how many times had he seen this same look in Edala's eyes and thought that she felt the same way he did? And in the end, it had all been a lie. She had stared him in the eyes, professed her love for him, and then stabbed him in the back.
Literally.
He put a little more of his weight on Vanessa unconsciously, pushing her thighs over his hips. Ever since Edala, he hadn't allowed himself to become close to anybody. He hadn't even slept with a woman, except for when he needed to at the height of his musth. But those times were always blinded by an overwhelming lust. There was always something missing…
His own gaze moved to her mouth, and he found himself being drawn in. He knew he shouldn’t be this close to her. If Kulog saw them like this, how could he stop the other T'shav from doing what he wanted?
A whimper from Vanessa made her look back to her eyes. The desire in them was fading to pure terror. Taliga released her with a jolt. He scrambled to his feet, shaking his head. He wanted to reassure her that he would never hurt her like that but stopped himself. It was best if she feared him. If she saw him as a person she could trust, then it would make him feel even guiltier about handing her over to their buyer. And he was not going to risk his life for her.
"Stay quiet," he told her gruffly. "If I hear another peep out of you before we reach our destination, you'll regret it."
He turned on his heel and stalked out, not daring to let himself look back.