Chapter Eight
There was a flash of inky blackness and we popped out in the middle of a fluffy, white cloud. A cry of horror escaped me as we fell. The pulsating bolts of energy highlighted the churning water far, far below us. “Hothar!”
“I have you,” Hothar rasped. Another flare of indigo engulfed us. Poof! We were suddenly on the deck of a luxury yacht. An elderly man with a dead critter perched on his head sat in a bubbling jacuzzi surrounded by four bikini-clad babes. They stared at us in opened-mouth astonishment.
I stared back in equal amazement. Who in the hell got into a jacuzzi in this heat? I linked with Hothar, “What happened? I thought you were taking us back to the ship?”
“A burst of photon energy disrupted my power. I was able to do a mid-port shift and bring us here.” Hothar said grimly, lines of strain bracketed his mouth.
Holy hell! If Hothar hadn’t done that mind meld with Zarek, we would be very dead. Most warriors his age didn’t have the skills or power to do a mid-port shift. If Hothar had failed, we would have either appeared in the airless vacuum of space or hit the ocean at Mach 1. Uncle Saul had mentioned how incredibly difficult it was to shift locations in the middle of teleporting to a predetermined location. I patted Hothar’s chest. “Leave it to Hot Lips to pull off the impossible.”
“Do not call me Hot Lips. It is demeaning,” Hothar grumbled and dumped me on my feet.
“It’s a compliment. Cranky butt is not. See the difference?”
Hothar gave me his best menacing glare.
The geriatric playboy pulled a satellite phone out of God knows where and took our picture.
Slashes of incandescent silver flashed across the horizon.
“Oh, lookie at the pretty lights,” one of babes cried. Like magic, pink satellite phones appeared in their hands and they started snapping photos of the phenomenon.
They didn’t have a friggin’ clue those “pretty lights” could kill them. “Are we out of the blast radius?”
“Yes.”
I did a quick mental scan of the old guy while he took some selfies with the magnetic storm in the background. The old geezer was a self-made billionaire and loved the ladies. The younger, the better. He liked to party, and a helicopter would soon be flying in more of his guests. I smiled brightly and used my best Southern Belle accent, “Goodness gracious, y’all are having some wild weather. I hope you don’t mind us popping in like this? But why use a copter when a Coletti is available?”
The old geezer climbed out of the water, excited at the idea of a Coletti warrior attending his bash. His itty-bitty gold Speedo left nothing to the imagination and exposed his shortcomings to the entire world. “How did you hear about the party?”
I picked a name out of his head. “Armando told us all about your famous parties. He said we should stop by and say G ’day. Didn’t he honey?”
Hothar grunted.
“Gotta say this is some boat. You must be richer’n Croesus. You can call me Chastity, the big guy is Hothar and the Tabor is called Bey.”
Bey dropped to the deck and waved a leg all friendly like.
The babes screamed blue, bloody murder and fled below deck.
“Human females frighten so easily,” Bey complained.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, because ginormous spiders are so common.” I gave the old geezer an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, sugar. The Tabor won’t hurt you.”
“Do not make promises you cannot keep,” Bey said ominously.
“Behave yourself, or we’ll find out how well you swim.”
Hothar snarled, “Enough!”
“You got a fella?”
I jerked my attention back to the geriatric playboy. His lecherous gaze roved over me and settled on my Bermuda Triangle. Maybe I should start waxing down there.
Hothar growled deep in his chest and stepped in front of me.
Like I would do it with gramps? He was hairy as a gorilla and wearing enough gold chains to sink a battleship. I poked my head around Hothar’s back. “I do have a fella. Say howdy to the nice man, Hothar.”
“Howdy.” Hothar bared his fangs in a predator’s smile.
The old geezer twitched. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer, whiskey or a margarita for the lady?”
What the hell? I was hungry and thirsty. “Bless your heart. A margarita sounds wonderful. Hothar will take a beer and do you have any chips?”
“A beer, a margarita and some chips, Bambi,” the old geezer commanded the bikini clad bartender cowering behind a fancy chrome wet bar.
“Yes, sir.” Keeping a wary eye on us, Bambi whipped up a margarita.
“You didn’t ask what I wanted,” Bey grumbled.
“I doubt they have any insects for you to munch on and you’re not eating one of them.”
“I like chips and beer.”
“Seriously?”
Hothar ran a weary hand over his face. “He does.”
“Who knew?” I called to Bambi. “Could you make that two beers, sweetie?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I didn’t like the fatigue lining Hothar’s face or how ghastly pale he was. “You don’t look so good.”
“The mid-port shift drained my power.”
“Does Shrek make house calls?”
“The magnetic field has temporarily inhibited my long-range telepathy and it also scrambled the electronics in my warrior’s bracelet.”
“Terrific. My blood will fix you up, right?”
“It should.”
I urged him over to a lounge chair. “Sit. Drink.” I offered Hothar my wrist.
“It will hurt.” He licked my pulse point.
I stroked his cheek. “You saved our lives. I can deal with a little pain.”
“You do know, I will never let you divorce me?”
“Once you’re feeling better, we’ll talk about personal boundaries.”
“If you insist.” Hothar bit down gently on my radial artery. A sharp pain radiated up my arm. The discomfort was quickly replaced by raw want as he took my blood.
Ack! Ack!
“Give it a rest, Bey. Hothar needs my blood.” My core pulsed with sudden moisture and an unbearable ache began to build between my legs. Oh, God. Oh God. I fought to squelch a whimper.
“The facial expressions of a human being aroused is nauseating,” Bey griped.
“Then don’t watch.” I dug my fingers into Hothar’s shoulder as my pleasure grew and grew. Could I have an orgasm standing up? Phantom tentacles vibrated against my clit and ecstasy cascaded over me. A moan broke from me as my entire body shook, and I literally saw stars. Wowzers!
Ack! Ack!
Hothar locked his left arm around my hips. “Easy there.”
“I think you’re feeling better.” The toe-curling aftershocks continued to shake me.
A satisfied smile curved Hothar’s mouth. “I am. I like watching you come.”
Ack! Ack! “I do not. It is beyond disgusting.”
“Yes, we know Bey.” I placed a light kiss on Hothar’s mouth. “The old pervert enjoyed the show too. Voyeurism gets him off and I’d rather that didn’t happen again. Kay?”
“In the future, I will endeavor to feed somewhere secluded.” Hothar added, “The old pervert envies me.”
“I doubt it. He has his own personal harem. I can’t compete with their model good looks.”
“Your beauty outshines all of them.”
“You’re turning into such a Don Juan.” I twitched, as the sweet warmth of his tongue licked the puncture marks on my wrist. “Do you smooth talk all the ladies?”
“Only you.”
“Good answer.”
Bambi cautiously approached with the beers, my margarita and a bowl of chips on a silver tray. She placed it on a glass-topped table next to Hothar. “If you need anything else, please let me know.”
“Do you have any extra swimsuits?”
“Yes, ma’am, we do.”
“I’d be obliged if you could loan me one.”
“Sure. No problem.” Bambi twitched nervously when Bey picked up a beer bottle with two of his front legs and drained it.
“Good God almighty, would you look at that.”
A hysterical giggle broke from Bambi.
I linked with Hothar. “How in the hell can he drink beer from a bottle?”
Hothar grinned. “His mouth is shaped like a short drinking straw. Bey uses it to suck up the liquefied insides of his prey or beer.”
“And the chips?”
“He spits digestive juices on them,” Hothar answered.
I grimaced. “How yummy.”
Buuuaaahhh. Bey belched loudly and tossed the empty bottle at Bambi.
She caught it and fled back to the wet bar.
I glared at the overgrown spider. “Where are your manners?”
“After suffering through your nasty public display of affection, I needed a drink,” Bey replied and grabbed the other beer.
I linked privately with Hothar. “Can Tabors get drunk?”
“Yes, and quickly. Inviting Tabors to any festivities that include liquor always results in chaos. At the last bonding ceremony, the drunken Tabors had a web spitting contest.”
“As in, who had the biggest one?”
“As in who could spit them the fastest. They turned the entire ceremonial cavern into a mass of thick gooey webbing in a matter of minutes. It took hours to free everyone,” Hothar replied.
Bet Detja was pissed. “Why in the hell did you let Bey drink those beers?”
“If I had tried to stop him, he would have webbed me to a wall,” Hothar admitted sheepishly.
“Couldn’t you just teleport out of the way?”
“Not until my power level is back to normal.”
Hmmm. In sick bay, Bey’s speed at webbing the assassins had rivaled a professional baseball pitcher’s fast ball. “How do we stop him?”
“Very carefully.”
I shuddered. If the creepy spider tried to web me, I was tossing him overboard.
Bey stuck his face in my margarita and sucked noisily.
What a brat. I rubbed Hothar’s finely muscled bicep. “I’ll be right back.”
Before I could take a step, Hothar grabbed my hand. “Where are you going?”
“To get a swimsuit. I’m tired of the old coot staring at me.”
After shooting a glance at the old geezer who was still eyeballing me like I was his favorite dessert, Hothar released my hand. “An excellent idea. Killing one’s host is not proper etiquette.”
Coletti warriors were taught etiquette? Who knew? I hurried over to the bar. “Could you show me where the swimsuits are kept?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s right this way.” Bambi escorted me down a hallway lined with pricey paintings.
“Thank you kindly. I want to apologize for Bey’s behavior.”
Bambi giggled. “It’s okay. I’ve never seen a spider drink beer before and I didn’t know they could belch like that.”
“His momma didn’t teach him any manners.” I had been picking up some odd vibes from Bambi. I just hoped she hadn’t hooked up with an Earth First lunatic. To be on the safe side, I slipped a subliminal suggestion into her brain to ensure she answered my questions truthfully. “How long have you worked here?”
“Just about six months. I was touring the South Pacific when I met Paul, ah, Mr. Gabaldon. He offered me a job on his yacht as a bartender and companion.”
“A companion? Bless your heart. Taking care of the elderly is God’s work. You read to him and play cards? That kinda thing?”
“I mostly sleep with him and his guests.”
“Oh!” I fanned myself. “You’re a working girl.” Gabaldon was a friggin’ pimp? “Your boyfriend doesn’t mind?”
“Tad?” The image of a blonde hunk in an itty-bitty Speedo flashed across Bambi’s mind and she laughed. “Not at all. Tad encouraged me to take the job. He said only a fool would pass up this opportunity. I mean, I get to ride around on a fancy boat, eat great food and all I have to do is be nice to the old coots; who then show their appreciation by showering me with expensive gifts.”
Mercenary little thing. I had a feeling Tad was selling off the jewelry Bambi earned on her back. “What does Tad do?”
“Do?” Bambi froze like a deer caught in the headlights.
“For a living?”
She blinked frantically. “He runs a successful auction house in Sydney.”
“How interesting. What does he sell?” The thought of snooping around in Bambi’s mind made me queasy, but she was hiding something big.
“He deals in antiques and stuff like that.”
A half-truth. I took a quick peek. Tad fenced stolen property and was wanted by Interpol and the Australian authorities for multiple thefts. His current caper was having Bambi replace the old geezer’s expensive artwork with fakes. “What an exciting job. Has Tad popped the question yet?”
“No.” Tears welled in Bambi’s eyes. “Tad found out Tony Lark, one of Paul’s drinking buddies, had asked me to be his mistress.”
He didn’t mind her sleeping with the old coots, but being a mistress was off limits? What was I missing? I gave myself a mental head thump. Duh. The creep hadn’t retrieved all the stolen artwork yet. “He didn’t want you losing this great job?”
“No. It wasn’t that. Tad was furious when I told him I had turned Tony down.
Whoa! Hadn’t seen that one coming. “He doesn’t have enough money?”
“Oh no, Tony owns a diamond mine in the Outback. He gave me these.” Bambi lifted her hair, showing off a very expensive pair of pink diamond earrings.
“Goodness gracious, those sparkle nicely,” I forced a note of admiration into my voice. I would never understand how a woman could sell her body for some fancy trinkets.
“Aren’t they just to die for?” Bambi let out a long sigh. “But Tony has what I call “dragon’s breath” and his dentures always have food stuck in them. When we play tonsil hockey, I always end up with pieces of his dinner in my mouth. A total gross out.”
A sudden irrational urge to laugh hit me. Bambi’s life was like something out of one of those old soap operas or gangster movies. Who lived like that? Did she even worry about the Rodan? Probably not. I gave her a sympathetic smile. “Killed the romance?”
Bambi shuddered. “Totally.”
“Is sleeping with Gabaldon better?”
“Not really.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Between you and me, he has a small package, if you get my drift?”
I nodded solemnly. “I do.”
“Paul’s dick reminds me of a shriveled-up carrot and even with those little blue pills he can’t get it up. Trying to give him a blow job is like sucking on a rancid pickle and his ball sweat is beyond gross. It tastes like rotted tuna fish,” Bambi confided.
Oh, dear God, Bambi’s memories of her intimate moments with Paul were enough to put me off sex forever. “Have you thought about a different line of work?” Please say yes.
Bambi laughed like that was the funniest thing she had ever heard. “And give up all this luxury? Not a chance.” An eager curiosity filled her eyes. “I heard Coletti warriors don’t have balls or bristly pubic hair?”
“You heard right.” Kaylee had sent me a vid on Coletti man parts and holy crap what an eye opener. “They have tentacles instead.”
The look of horror on Bambi’s face was priceless. “Tentacles? Like an octopus?”
“Yes. Squirmy little fellas and dripping with slime.”
“But my friend Darcie had sex with a Coletti warrior and she claimed she had twenty orgasms in one night.” Bambi shuddered. “She wouldn’t have done it with him if he had goopy tentacles.”
God, this was way too much fun. I looked around cautiously and put a finger to my mouth. “Shhh. Wanna hear a secret?”
Bambi nodded.
“I know for a fact Coletti males are great at mind control. A little mental hocus-pocus and Darcie forgets all about those tentacles.”
“Wow. Who knew? But, you know, for twenty orgasms, I think I could deal with tentacles. Your guy’s kinda hot. I wouldn’t mind doing him.” Her lustful tone raised the hair on the back of my neck.
“Think again, sweetie. Hothar’s mine. Touch him and I’ll break all your fingers.” I gave her my version of Zarek’s scary-ass sociopath smile.
The color drained from her face. “Oh! No. No. No. I would never steal your guy.”
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind she’d give it the old college try and the little whore would find out the hard way that Coletti warriors were faithful, very faithful to their women. Bambi should stick with the old coots and her sticky-fingered boyfriend. I bared my teeth in a not so friendly smile. “Glad we could come to an understanding.”
“Tad will be arriving shortly, and I’ll be sure to introduce you.”
I frowned at the note of malevolence in her voice. Was Bambi threatening me? Maybe she wasn’t quite the airheaded bimbo she pretended to be. “I look forward to it.”
Bambi opened a door and pointed to an enormous closet full of designer gowns and swimsuits. “Take whatever you need. Paul is a generous host. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks. I will.”
“Feel free to use the shower too,” Bambi added cattily as she closed the door behind her.
Okay, I’d admit I was a little ripe, but Bambi would smell just as bad if she had been running around a tropical island in a fat suit. I headed to the bathroom and my jaw dropped. Talk about fancy. Golden sea creatures were etched into the mosaic floor tiles. White marble surrounded the huge shower. Gold-leaf Mermaids danced on the double glass doors and the taps were designed in the shape of fish. I shucked my medical jumper and stepped inside. I turned the fish, and hot water poured down from a rain showerhead. Man, I could get used to this. The dolphin shaped bath shelf held an array of shower gel and shampoo. I picked pink jasmine and lathered up, repeatedly. God it felt so good to be clean.
Hothar rumbled in my head, “Do you need help picking out a swimsuit?”
“I decided to take a shower first. I smell worse than Zoey’s skunk perfume.”
“Shower?” Poof. Hothar was standing beside me. The water poured off his battle suit as he explored the stall. “I never knew there were showers like this.”
“Pretty nice, huh?”
“Very.” His amorous gaze roved over my wet body. “And full of great beauty.”
My nipples hardened and my pussy clenched. “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna jump your bones.”
“I want to be inside you, making you mine, watching your face as you come.” He took my lips with a devastating blend of hunger and gentleness.
I pushed Hothar back with my telekinesis. “Hold on Romeo. Zarek and my uncle would have a cow if we complete the bond. Plus, doesn’t it create a whole shitload of problems?”
“It does. We would not be legally mated. Other warriors could challenge me for the right to claim you.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Calm yourself. There are only a few warriors that have the ability to defeat me,” Hothar assured me.
“I don’t care. I’m not a piece of property to be fought over.”
“You are my heart, not a possession I own.”
Oh, dear God. He meant every word. In that moment I fell in love with him. “Any challenge to you, is a challenge to me.”
“You would fight for me, even if it meant your death?” There was a touch of horror in Hothar’s voice.
“I would. We’re a team.” I went up on my tiptoes and gave Hothar a smooch. “We do the smart thing and wait until I’m twenty-one and for God’s sake, don’t accept any more death challenges from idiots like Jarok. There are enough people trying to kill us.”
Hothar smiled. “A wise observation. I have chosen well.”
“Actually, I think Uncle Saul and Zarek had something to do with it.”
“Or Detja. She is responsible for over eight thousand bonding ceremonies.”
“Wow. Quite a record.” Pin pricks crawled up my spine and I could hear the distinct Whup-whup-whup of a military helicopter overhead. “Do you think Uncle Saul sent a chopper for us?”
“No. He has not. The men onboard are not his soldiers.” Hothar cocked his head as he mentally scanned the occupants’ minds. “They are hired mercenaries.”
I merged with Hothar. Shit! One of them was Tad. The larcenous creep was wearing body armor and had bought an assault team with him to relieve Paul and his guests of their valuables. I shared the intel I had gotten from Bambi with Hothar.
“Thieves.” Hothar’s face hardened. “They picked the wrong ship to rob.”
“Yep, we’re gonna put a definite kink in their plans.”
Screams echoed down the hallway and thuds shook the ceiling.
“That can’t be good.”
“I believe they have met Bey.”
“I would have loved to see their faces when they spotted him.” I studied Hothar. His color was better, but his power was still low. “Do you need more blood?”
“I have fed from you twice today. I cannot take more without endangering you. I can handle a few puny human males,” he assured me.
“Cocky much?”
“I simply speak the truth,” Hothar countered.
“A puny, human male with a laser pistol can still kill you and bad guys never follow the rules. I want you to promise me, you’ll be careful.”
More screams sounded.
Hothar sighed. “Yes, my lady.” He handed me a laser pistol. “Stay here until I return.”
“Like hell I will.”
“You will obey me in this,” Hothar stated, every inch a dictatorial Coletti warrior. Poof. He teleported.
I linked with Hothar. “Just so we don’t have any misunderstandings in the future, I’m not a dog. I don’t sit, stay, heel or roll over on command.”
“You do not have a battle suit or armor of any kind. You will stay where it is safe.”
A lack of body armor had never stopped me. Bolting from the shower, I ran into the closet and grabbed a one-piece tropical print swimsuit.
“What about Bey? He isn’t bullet proof.” I wriggled into the suit.
“Bey can take care of himself. Anyone foolish enough to attack him, will find themselves on the dinner menu.”
“I can take care of myself too.”
“Stay!”
Gunshots rang out.
Through my link with Hothar, I could see Bambi had a 9mm pistol and was firing wildly at my guy. I flinched as the bullets bounced off his battle armor.
Splat! Splat! Several web balls caught Bambi in the chest, slamming her back against the wet bar. She spat a litany of vulgar curse words and fought to free herself.
Splat! A web ball covered her mouth.
I did a fist pump. “Way to go Bey.”
“I dislike noisy females with weapons.”
“Is that a warning?”
“It is.”
A whirring chrrrick drew my attention. It was coming from a pile of towels. I chewed on my lower lip. Where had I heard that noise before? My eyes widened as the memory hit me. Shit! The last time Sariel, the Askole High Commander, dropped by to show off his new battle armor; his display models made the same whirring sound.
I shoved the towels to one side and there sat a black metallic girdle with a glowing red gem. Holy crap! Was that the new Askole armor belt? I picked it up and examined it. Dang! It looked like the prototype Sariel had been showing off to Uncle Saul and the Central Command bigwigs.
How in the hell had it ended up on a playboy’s yacht in the middle of the Pacific Ocean? And what were the odds of us ending up on the same ship? One in a zillion? Fate was laughing her ass off.
The old geezer did have oodles of money and could afford to buy the latest in personal protection, but the Askole only sold to planetary governments. Had someone in Central Command arranged the sale? I groaned. Oh, God, General Malford had struck again. For a sizeable bribe he would sell his own mother to the Rodan and maybe he had. She had come up missing about two weeks ago. Then there were the rumors circulating about his ties to Governor-General Ian Dovers of the Australian Defense Force.
I doubted he was our mole, but he might know who was. It was time Malford had a “come to Jesus” meeting with Uncle Saul and Zarek.
The belt vibrated in my hands. It was almost as if it wanted me to put it on. The old geezer wouldn’t keep something worth two million credits in the girl’s clothes closet. He must have shown it to Bambi and she told her sticky-fingered boyfriend about it. Tad knew the body armor would make him pretty much unstoppable and was coming to get it and the paintings. He probably thought this heist would net him about ten million credits. Boy was he in for a surprise.
A war erupted up on deck.
I merged with Hothar. Tad and his army were blasting the hell out of the yacht. “I’m coming.”
“No! I have it under control. Stay put.”
“But you’re out numbered.”
“I am Coletti and you are still a fragile human without body armor. You stay below deck.”
“So, if I found some body armor, I could help?”
“Yes.”
“Okey-dokey, smokey.” Hothar had walked right into that one. Sariel said the new high-tech armor would adjust to any size and there was only one way to find out. I fastened the belt around my waist and pressed the gem. Snikt. Schlik. Schlik. Schlik. Schlik. Schlik. Within seconds black armor covered me from head to toe. I took a couple of experimental steps. The armor fit perfectly and was effortless to move in. The heads-up display was totally awesome. The battle computer provided an easy flow of visual data and tactical information. I could tell at a glance who was friend or foe. I took a quick look at the full-length mirror and did a double take. The helmet resembled the jackal headed God Anubis. The glowing red eyes were totally creepy and cool at the same time. Time to try out the armor and kick some pirate ass.