“I see you’ve brought some questionable company along with you,” Admiral Brantward Davis sneered, casting a dismissive glance in Rykal’s direction. “That explains a lot. Humans aren’t good enough for you? You needed something a little more exotic, sergeant?” The admiral leaned in so close she could smell the alcohol on his breath. “I’m sure your pretty little moon-elf over there hasn’t seen your ugly side yet, otherwise he’d be out of here quicker than a fucking Ephrenian warp-cruiser.”

Moon-elf? Ha. You have no fucking idea. She really had to keep this short and sweet. Knowing Rykal, the situation could easily get out of hand if she didn’t shut Davis down right now.

That’s why she’d asked her mate to stay exactly where he was. Tempers could flare at the slightest provocation, and Rykal could be unpredictable.

“Listen, Sir.” Arin cut straight to the chase, trying to control the sudden torrent of rage that ripped through her, threatening to steal away her composure. “I’m trying to have a quiet night out, preferably without any bullshit. That’s why I’m going to ask you nicely. What happened in the past… I’m over it. It’s finished. Move on and leave me the fuck alone. Trust me, you do not want to cause a scene in here.”

“You’re threatening me?” Davis’s grey eyebrows rose in mock-astonishment, his forehead creasing. “In here of all places? Not wise, Varga. I can have you thrown into military prison faster than you can blink.”

“I’m a civilian now.” She kept her voice low, keenly aware of the fact that Rykal was staring. He watched them from across the room like a predator lying in wait. “Civilians don’t go to military prison.” She shook her head. “I’m not threatening you, Sir. Just giving you some friendly advice.”

Davis let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re really too much, Varga. This is my territory. I can do anything I want here. I can have you thrown you in a cell if you don’t behave. Who do you think was behind your dishonorable discharge? Some idiot even wanted to recommend you for the Medal of Bravery after that crazy shit you pulled on the Hendrix.” He laughed. “Not on my watch. Your mother’s influence only reaches so far.”

Davis was so close they were almost touching. Arin could feel Rykal’s burning gaze upon them. A warning prickle shot down her spine, but she resisted the sudden urge to slam her knee into the admiral’s groin, even though it was highly tempting. The man had really caused her a lot of distress. It had taken her months to get over what he’d done to her. Even now, the images flashed through her mind, triggered by his sudden appearance.

A stray hand grazing her ass, so quickly it could have been an accident. His hand on her thigh. His knowing smirk—so infuriatingly smug. His lips lingering far too long on her cheek as he drew her in for a greeting kiss. Alone in the office late at night, Davis entering, spinning her chair around, pressing himself against her, his erection digging into her belly, his hands tearing at her shirt, groping her breasts, buttons popping off as he exposed her breasts…

That’s when Arin had lost it. Her fist had flown out and caught him in the side of the head. Enraged, Davis had tried to fight back, but she was at least ten years younger than him, and the admiral hadn’t been in the field for a very long time.

In contrast, Arin had just completed a rigorous physical training bootcamp, and she’d been near the top of her class in hand-to-hand combat. She’d followed through with a flurry of frenzied punches, closing her eyes as she gave in to her anger.

The build-up had been long; a series of repeated incidents, with Davis growing more and more brazen once he realized he could get away with it.

The release had been quick. Two black eyes and a broken nose to Davis, and Arin nursing a set of grazed knuckles.

Once a military brat, always a military brat.

That’s how she’d lost her promotion and earned her exile to the remote mining station, Fortuna Tau.

“You know,” she said slowly, deliberately, “getting demoted and sent to that backwater mining station was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’ve just been offered a far better job than what I ever could have hoped for as a peacekeeper, so I just wanted to thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson.” She smiled coldly, enjoying the look of outrage that crossed Davis’s face. Shortly after they’d returned to Earth from Kythia, General Akkadian had come to her with an interesting proposition, and she’d accepted without hesitation. The General was in the process of putting together a mercenary outfit, and the way he’d explained it to her had made perfect sense.

If they were to operate on Earth, they would need human support in the logistics department.

That was where Arin came in. Head of Human Logistics for the Darkstar Mercenary Corporation.

It had a nice ring to it.

Ironically, if the admiral hadn’t tried to force himself into her pants, she never would have punched him in the face, she never would have been sent to Fortuna Tau, and she never would have encountered the Kordolians.

She never would have met Rykal.

“Best thing that ever happened to me,” she repeated quietly.

Arin and her Kordolian had been to hell and back, and nothing on Earth could scare her anymore.

“Don’t get cocky, Varga.” Davis leaned in, his lips grazing her ear. Arin froze as a warm gust of alcoholic breath hit her in the face. His hand curved around her arm, making her skin crawl. “The fall back down to Earth can be very painful for you if I decide to make it that way. Colluding with aliens against Earth’s interests is tantamount to treason. I’m sure that if I look hard enough, the evidence I need to prosecute you will be found.” He kissed her cheek, deliberately, insolently. The message was clear. Davis was a man who got what he wanted, and he always had the last word.

Ugh, you have gone and done it now, Admiral fuckwad. Arin wanted to slap him, but she was keenly aware of the fact that all eyes were on them. One did not just slap an admiral of the Federation military in public and get away unscathed. Knowing Davis, he’d probably have her arrested on the spot.

Don’t give him the satisfaction.

“Remove your hand, or I will remove it for you.” Rykal’s deceptively mild voice cut through the noise like one of his insanely sharp obsidian blades.

Davis froze. “What did you say?”

Rykal had appeared out of thin air with all of his usual Kordolian stealth, no warning given.

A pleasant shiver coursed through her as he curled a powerful arm around her waist. Arin melted against him, her irritation dissolving, turning into relief.

“The alien speaks,” Davis laughed, trying to regain his composure. “Arin obviously hasn’t given you a proper cultural introduction, otherwise you would understand that on Earth, threats of violence are the lowest form of coercion. Do I need to remind you that you’re on our planet now, boy?”

“No. I know exactly where I am.” Rykal smiled, and the effect was as chilling and desolate as the frozen wastelands of his native Vaal. “Take your hand off her, human, or I will separate it from your arm and make you eat it in front of all these people.” His tone was deceptively mild.

Rykal’s reaction to Davis’s threats warmed Arin to the core. She was used to handling her own, but it was always nice to have an invulnerable Kordolian by one’s side.

“Don’t be stupid, Kordolian. What you don’t seem to understand is that I can make both of your lives complete and utter hell.” Davis signaled towards the back of the room. Three uniformed men stood up and stalked towards them. “Your Empire ain’t what it used to be, Kordolian. Don’t think you can just come in here and fuck with us the way you’ve done with the rest of the Nine Galaxies. I won’t let it happen.”

“What are you doing to do?” Rykal taunted, pulling Arin even closer. “Fight me?” He bared his fangs.

Davis glared at them as he removed his hand from her body. Finally! His touch made Arin’s skin crawl.

But instead of retreating, he leaned forward aggressively.

Arin could sense the pent-up tension inside Rykal. Although he was gentle with her, his muscles were taut, his arms like corded steel. She could almost feel the anger radiating off him—perhaps this was the so-called killing aura the Kordolians always talked about. He held her in a way that signaled to everyone in the room that she was his, and the sheer ferocity of his unspoken statement took her breath away.

Did Davis even have the smallest idea of how much danger he was in right now?

“Hey, Rykal,” she whispered, slipping her fingers beneath the sleeve of his kashkan to stroke his bare skin. “Let’s go back. He’s just a washed up old warhorse who likes to play power games with young recruits. He really isn’t worth it.”

“He deserves to be punished,” Rykal insisted, his warm breath feathering her ear. “If you wish, I can sever both his hands and his balls. That would be fitting, would it not?”

It probably would. How many other young and vulnerable recruits had Davis harassed? How many times had he gotten away with it?

But she couldn’t imagine the fallout if Rykal made good on his threats. An Admiral of the Federation? Ha. Human-Kordolian relations would go right down the drain, and everything they’d worked so hard to achieve would be lost.

“Eject them,” Davis ordered as his men surrounded them. She noted the insignia on the left breasts of their jackets. Military police. Arin groaned.

“We’re not going anywhere.” Rykal stood his ground, and Arin recognized the stubborn note in his voice.

Uh, oh.

The situation had quickly devolved into a testosterone-fueled standoff between a Federation admiral who was drunk on his own power—not to mention the alcohol—and a lethal First Division Kordolian warrior who was hell-bent on protecting his mate.

If she didn’t do something quickly, this was going to end in disaster.

“Ry—”

The music stopped.

Heads snapped towards the podium. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“You people all need to relax now.” The incredibly talented drummer-singer stood and tucked his drumsticks in his back pocket. He jumped off the stage, one-handedly snagging a couple of beers from the tray of a passing waiter.

It occurred to Arin that he was as tall as Rykal but not as heavily built. He was wiry and long-limbed, and he moved with the elegant grace of a dancer.

He walked with a supremely confident swagger, as if he owned the place. He wiped away the glistening sweat at his temples and ran his hand over his head, grazing tightly curled and sharply trimmed-and-faded black hair that sported a hint of salt-and-pepper. His faint shadow of a beard was similarly well groomed; all straight lines and sharp edges. “You boys need to separate, settle down, and have a long, cool drink.” His smile was as brilliant as the midday sun, but sharp around the edges. “There will be no fighting in my bar.” He pushed a beer into Davis’s hand and draped his arm around the admiral.

He extended the other long-necked bottle to Rykal. Beads of moisture ran down the edges, making the green glass glisten in the dim light. “Welcome, brother. Please. It’s my shout.” He looked around the room, raising his voice. “Hell, why don’t we just do a free round of drinks for all you beautiful people in here tonight, courtesy of Leo Sankare.”

Applause and cheers rippled through the room. Leo clicked his fingers and the music started up again, coming from hidden speakers.

“Drink to peace,” the singer growled. “This twice-decorated, Medal-of-Bravery-winning, beat-slinging veteran of the armed forces humbly requests your co-operation in this matter.”

“Leo…” Davis looked around. Everyone was watching.

To Arin’s surprise, the military police stepped back.

Davis raised his bottle in a resigned manner, his Adam’s apple bobbing up-and-down as he swallowed his pride. “To peace.” He gulped down the beer and stared daggers at Rykal. “And a momentary truce.”

Rykal’s eyes narrowed as he studied the bottle. “This is…”

“Beer,” Arin whispered, realizing what was happening. In the blink of an eye, Leo had engineered all this. The crowd was on his side, and whoever refused to play along would instantly become the villain. She knew it. Leo knew it. Davis knew it.

Even if Rykal knew, he probably didn’t care. He held up the bottle of beer, studying it with a dubious look.

Arin elbowed him in his side. “Just drink it.” Kordolians were supposed to be highly sensitive to alcohol, but surely a small sip wouldn’t affect him. If he didn’t play along, he’d come across as a sore loser.

To her relief, Rykal drank the beer. “To peace,” he drawled, pinning Davis with a lazy golden stare, “and ongoing Kordolian-human relations. We so enjoy being on this quaint little planet of yours.”

Davis scowled.

Why did Arin get the feeling this matter wasn’t even close to being resolved?

“All right!” Leo clapped his hands together as he disengaged from the admiral. “Then it’s settled. Humans and Kordolians will get along for evermore, and the people here will be allowed to enjoy their night. That is all.” He gave the admiral a sharp salute. “Sir. If you’ll excuse me, I need a little something to soothe the nerves. You go on and have yourself a nice evening, now.” He turned to Arin and Rykal. “Care to join me?”

And just like that, the tension was defused. Well… mostly.

This Leo character was one smooth operator. Arin breathed a sigh of relief. “You may have just saved Davis’s ass, you know that?”

“Oh yes, I do.” Leo winked. “The reputation of the silver ones precedes them. A good buddy of mine was on the Hendrix II. I knew how this might end, and let’s just say there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen in my reputable establishment. People come here to relax, not get all worked up about differences of opinion.”

“Sensible man,” Rykal said, tipping his head in acknowledgment. He turned and planted a slow and very meaningful kiss on Arin’s lips.

She is mine. He was putting it out there for all the world to see.

Her legs turned to jelly. Warmth spread between her thighs. She wanted to tear those damn sexy Kordolian robes off him and jump his damn sexy…

Mom’s watching.

Shit. Like cold water poured onto a hot fire, the thought momentarily doused her lust.

Rykal twined his fingers with hers, and they followed Leo as he drifted between tables and chairs. The singer tossed his megawatt smile around in a carefree manner, shaking hands and fielding greetings from various patrons in a fluid sequence, never missing a beat.

They followed him all the way to the back of the room, until they reached…

“Hello, beautiful.” Leo slid in beside Arin’s mother and kissed her on the cheek.

Arin gaped.

Alison smiled. “I see the three of you have already met.”

“Y-you’re…” Her hard-as-nails, workaholic, emotionally impaired mother was dating smooth-as-hell Leo Sankare, the Astral Sea’s resident crooner?

“We’re together,” General Varga said. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “For a while now.”

Suddenly, she was all zen.

This Leo—was he some sort of fucking magician?

“Huh.” Arin stared at the couple. They were like chalk and cheese. There was her mom, in her half-shed military uniform, her severe hairstyle emphasizing the harsh, uncompromising planes of her face. There was Leo, exuding effortless cool, his lazy smile as warm and inviting as the music he wove with brilliant hands and a soulful voice.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

Leo was as far from Arin’s father as anyone she could have imagined. Perhaps he had something to do with Alison’s recent mellowing.

“That’s wonderful,” she said as the initial shock wore off. “I’m so happy for both of you.” The feeling was genuine. Arin and her mother hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, but she’d always felt that Alison deserved to find someone who made her happy. Stars knew she’d had a tough time of it since Arin’s father had disappeared.

They never spoke of him. It was too painful.

Beside her, Rykal was quiet.

Distracted.

He was staring off into the distance with narrowed eyes.

Arin didn’t like that look one bit. That was his warrior look; the one he got when stalking his prey.

Arin never, ever allowed herself to forget that Rykal and his brothers were supreme natural hunters. Nature—and horrific Kordolian technology—had transformed them into the ultimate predators, and they certainly didn’t possess the same scruples as humans. Sometimes, she got the feeling it was her responsibility to act as Rykal’s moral compass on Earth.

“Let’s sit.” She gave him a little nudge.

Rykal swayed on his feet.

He actually swayed. The action was so unusual, so unexpected, that Arin did a double-take.

Her warrior was normally as stealthy and graceful as a big hunting cat. It was so unlike him to appear anything less than in full control of his reflexes.

Rykal slid into the booth, slamming his beer bottle onto the table. Their drinks had arrived. He picked up his steaming cup of coffee and downed it in a single gulp.

Alison and Leo stared at him as if he’d grown a new set of horns.

Horns. After hearing some interesting facts from Sera, Arin had asked Rykal about them. “I’d let them grow, but they aren’t compatible with our exo-armor. You know how it is, love. Duty first.” So she had to be satisfied with stroking his horn-buds; the two slightly raised and erogenously sensitive patches at his temples.

“So, Rykal.” Her mother’s steely grey gaze fixed upon her future son-in-law; her latest victim. “What exactly is your role within the Kordolian military?”

Arin glared at her mom. I knew it! This was going to be an interrogation after all.

Leo shot Rykal a sympathetic look. “Can I get you something else to drink, my man? There’s a fine ten-year-old single malt whiskey I’ve been saving for—”

“No alcohol.” Rykal held up a hand. His silver skin had turned pale. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. One of his hands closed over Arin’s thigh. He gave her a reassuring squeeze. He opened his eyes, and they were cold and clear. “In the old military, I was in the First Division. We were the ones they’d send to clear the way.”

“Clear the way?” Alison frowned.

“Our job was to give the people a taste of what was to come. We’d show them what would happen if they didn’t submit to the Empire. We created power vacuums and filled them with Imperial order.”

Arin nudged Rykal in his side. Too dark! You don’t have to go there… Had that single mouthful of beer been enough to loosen his tongue? This was supposed to be pleasant small-talk, not cold hard truths about the Kordolian Empire’s dark-and-ugly past.

A past that Rykal knew intimately. A past he shared.

“You would terrify entire populations into accepting Kordolian rule.” Alison’s tone was matter-of-fact. “And if they refused to cooperate, you would subjugate them by force.”

“Exactly.”

“Mom!” Arin blurted. “Rykal doesn’t do that anymore. The Kordolian Empire is in transition, and there’s a protection treaty in place. You know that. Why are you digging up the past?” A past that was so painful for Rykal to relive.

“Preliminary intimidation is a well-known military tactic. Besides, don’t I have a right to know exactly who my daughter has fallen in love with?”

Fallen in love. How astute. Was it really that obvious? “Don’t you trust my judgement?”

“I’ve barely seen you these past few years.”

“And whose fault is that?” Arin clenched her jaw, a wave of stubbornness coming over her. Why was it that her mother could make her irrationally angry so damn fast? There was something about family… they could get under your skin and make you feel like you were sixteen years old all over again.

As if sensing her frustration, Rykal grabbed her underneath the table, running his big, rough, elegant hands up-and-down her forearm. He kneaded her palm with his thumbs and stroked the back of her hand with his fingers. “Arin, it’s okay. I have nothing to hide, and I don’t lie. Sooner or later, the truth about us is going to be widely known on Earth. Our history isn’t a secret. It’s been written in the stars for all to see, and humans have no choice but to accept it.”

“Just because people do terrible things, doesn’t mean they’re terrible people,” her mother quipped. “We shouldn’t let our pasts define us.”

What? Arin couldn’t concentrate. She was turning to putty in Rykal’s warm, relentless hands.

“Give the man a break, mama.” Leo took a drag on Alison’s juvi-stick and passed it back to her. “We talked about this, remember? You can’t just grill everyone you meet. The only thing that should get grilled in my bar is that juicy, genuine, non-recombinant rib-eye steak. Rykal, you have to try the steak. You eat that kind of thing, don’t you?”

“Kordolians are pure carnivores,” Arin remarked. “What else would they be?” They came from a barren planet covered in ice where nothing grew. They’d evolved to eat meat. It made sense. Dominance, subjugation, control; these things were in a Kordolian’s very nature.

“Is this your bar, Leo?” Rykal was staring off into the distance again, his amber eyes narrowed. Both his hands closed around Arin’s left one.

She twined her fingers through his, trying to gauge his thoughts. “Are you all right?” she whispered.

He nodded absently.

There was something different about him. It was very minor, but Arin knew her mate well, and she sensed that his tongue had gotten a little bit looser, and as for that spooky feline grace all the First Division guys had…

Perhaps it had slipped, just a little. Arin shifted uneasily. The thought of Rykal losing control was more than a little bit scary, considering the power contained within his sublime form.

Oblivious to Rykal’s subtle tells, Leo grinned. “Indeed it is. Built it with my partner, Araki-san. He creates the menu, I draw the crowds. Our clientele are mostly from the military and political set, but that’s what we want. I’d say we’re responsible for preventing at least three major international incidents in the last year alone. There’s nothing that can’t be solved with good food and fine tunes.”

“Ah. In that case, I’ll be right back.” Rykal gave Arin’s hand a squeeze and slipped away, leaving her shaking her head, her mouth wide open.

“What are you—”

But Rykal was already gone, moving in that swift, silent manner that was unique to the First Division. Arin looked over her shoulder, watching as he cut across the room. His luminous silver skin and platinum-white hair—a little longer than a regulation cut and tousled at the top—made him stand out like crazy. He was an imposing, otherworldly figure; a creature from a world of darkness and starlight.

Rykal on a mission.

Rykal on the hunt.

He was an arrow in the darkness.

But wait a second… was his gait a little bit uneven?

Arin glared at her mother. “Was this really the best place to invite us?” She glanced at Leo. “Sorry, Leo. You have an amazing venue here, but it’s crawling with the kind of people who probably aren’t so friendly towards the off-world folk.”

“We don’t tolerate that kind of behavior. Everyone’s welcome in here.” The singer leaned back and put his arm around Alison’s shoulders. To Arin’s surprise, her mother allowed him to do so, smiling a secret little smile as she leaned into Leo. It was a strange thing for Arin to witness. Her mother had never been touchy-feely with her father. Before her father had left, his relationship with Alison Varga had been cold and formal.

“This place is as safe as houses,” her mother added. “Safest place on Nova Terra outside base. If anything were to go down, you’d have the feeds of over a hundred personal safety monitors to back you up, and the place is crawling with licensed-to-carry peacekeepers.” She patted the bolt-gun holstered at her waist. “I knew you were shacked-up with a Kordolian, but before now, I hadn’t met Rykal in person. I didn’t know what his temperament was like, so I thought we should meet somewhere safe. They have quite the reputation, you know.”

“Shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” Arin grumbled, watching Rykal as he disappeared through a discreet doorway. A ripple of unease crawled over her.

“It was more for your protection, not mine. Not everyone on Earth is happy with the idea of these guys freely roaming our streets. I wouldn’t want for anything unexpected to happen. There’s been too much of that alre—”

“We’ll can finish this conversation later,” Arin said, hastily getting out of her seat. She didn’t want to get into the intricacies of the human-Kordolian relations right now. There wasn’t time. “I need to make sure Ry doesn’t…”

Get into any trouble. Better to leave that last part unspoken. Her hand reflexively dropped to her hip, reaching for a phantom gun. Sometimes she forgot she was a civilian now. Civilians didn’t carry bolt-guns. A sudden wave of lightheadedness came over her. Her ears burned and heat rose in her cheeks.

Maybe she was also a little tipsy.

Leo was staring in the direction of the doorway, his brown eyes sharp and alert. “I’ll go with you,” he said quietly. He pressed a button on his silver link-band and spoke in a rapid-fire language Arin didn’t understand.

Eskulin. Huh. Her mom’s boyfriend spoke the language of the streets—of the notorious Darkside. If she weren’t so worried about Rykal—or more accurately, about what he might do—she would find this situation highly fascinating.

“I’d better come too.” Alison stood up.

Arin sighed. Fine. Then they would all go. It would be a regular old family affair.

Family. Huh. Was it too much to think that one day, they might all consider each other as family?

One could only hope.