Fusion (Crimson Romance) (18 page)

She swallowed hard, nodded, and hugged him hard once more. Tears came to her eyes and he nuzzled his cheek against hers. The warrior in her might hate the weakness she was showing after sex, but the woman needed the release tears provided. Sol understood and rocked her back and forth, murmuring sweet endearments. But their soft fantasy was quickly broken when a blue-robed servant approached.

“Please, mistress and master, you must don your clothing quickly. Lady Aigean can’t make it back here. She had pressing matters to attend elsewhere.”

Soldar nodded and caressed Lyra’s hip once more.

“One warning,” the girl quickly continued, “there are Condorian officers in the back hallway leading to the stage. Admiral D’uhr is among them. I believe it is his intention to seek a private audience with you. We tried to explain that you would need rest, but he would not be stalled. Be assured that we will not leave you alone. I and my companions will stay until you are safely in your quarters.”

Soldar pulled away from the warm safety of his lover’s body. He held his hand out to help her up. “I’ll assist Lyra with her clothing. Keep the Condorians diverted for a few moments.”

Lyra swiftly stood beside him. He watched her take deep, cleansing breaths. Then he waited while she ran her long fingers through her chin-length hair; the curls seemed to find their exact right place beneath her lovely chin and around her soft, tiny ears.

“Okay?” he asked.

“U-huh,” she breathlessly responded. “Get me dressed fast. I don’t want any Condorian near me without my clothes on.”

He pressed a gentle kiss into her forehead, grabbed her clothing, and proceeded to see to her dressing first. His own pants and boots were in place several minutes later and luckily so. A gruff, loud voice sounded outside the stage hatch. The hatch slid open and a Condorian of massive proportions pushed his way past several serving women and toward the stage where he and Lyra stood.

Protective instincts Soldar couldn’t control surfaced. He pushed Lyra behind him and stood ready to fight off a legion for her sake. Behind him, he could feel her body tense as if she was also going into battle. It occurred to him that she might not have ever been this close to the enemy without running, firing her weapon, or ducking other armament. The hulking creature before them was horribly impressive, but Soldar understood size was how the Condorian race chose their superiors. The biggest and largest of the men, and the most aggressive of the women, were always the top cast. Everyone else was expendable and easily sent to die on their behalf.

• • •

Lyra dug into herself and found the power to paste on an almost bored expression. Still reeling from Sol’s lovemaking, this was no easy task. She somehow felt stronger and more able to cope with this confrontation than she’d have ever believed possible. Briefly touching the armband he’d attached to her left bicep, she stepped from behind her Craetorian protector to help him face this most monstrous of all the Condorian leaders. This particular creature had a reputation for mistreating everyone around him, including his own officers. It was said they all yielded to his whims, or they faced torture. It was this same, single-minded brutality that kept him feared.

Admiral Kardis D’uhr was about six feet, six inches in height, but he’d had to turn his broad shoulders to get through the hatch. Like all Condorians, his head was devoid of hair. Black, tattooed tribal markings had been etched all over his bald pate as well as his face, arms and that part of his chest she could see through the vee of his leather vest. The rest of his body likely bore similar artistic renderings. His pants and tall boots thankfully covered them.

There’d been dead Condorians on the battlefield. Of those whose clothing had been blown away, she’d seen numerous tattoos. His eyes were similarly dark to those deceased; his broad face and thick neck were frighteningly fierce in appearance. Like all his people, he looked more like a raging berserker than a true warrior. Every muscle on his body was as well-defined as Sol’s except there was no lion-like grace in his movements.

D’uhr was arguing with the servants, who insisted on trying to protect the
entertainers.
His bare, meaty arm rose to strike the girl who’d tried to keep him outside the stage hatch. That was when Soldar moved forward. Had her warrior-lover not done so at that exact moment, Lyra was sure the blow from the admiral’s hefty Condorian hand would have broken the slender girl’s neck. D’uhr, like all his people, had no patience. But what could she have expected from a leather-clad, giant bully? From his thick, socialistic black boots to his nasty grin, the man was evil incarnate. His malevolence was palpable. Thousands had died by his command.

• • •

Once more, Soldar moved slightly ahead of Lyra so that she stood just behind his right shoulder. Her bravery was awesome, but he didn’t want it tested. Not now.

He interrupted D’uhr’s attempt to strike the serving girl with a very assertive comment. “Was there something you wanted?” he loudly asked in Earth English.

D’uhr stilled his hand then slowly turned and presented a smile as he looked over the only Craetorian in the room. Straightening his shoulders, he moved onto the stage. “I … am Admiral Kardis D’uhr. It’s obvious what planet you hail from,” he stated in broken English as he puffed out his chest and gazed back with suspicion. “Do you not seek to fight my race alongside your brethren?” he suspiciously asked. “What brings a man like you to a place like this? What could a Craetorian possibly want so far away from his own world, and why do you not speak in your native Craetorian tongue?”

Soldar pasted on a vapid expression. “I speak English for my partner’s benefit. And as to why I’m here … I side with whomever can offer me the most remuneration. In this case, that would be Aigean Florn.”

“Ah, that makes you a neutral?” D’uhr questioned cagily.

Again, Soldar bowed his head slightly in confirmation. “I see no point in fighting for a lost cause. The sight of blood … well, it sickens me.” He lifted a hand in greeting. The offer went ignored so he dropped it by his side again. “I’m called Soldar, big fellow. At least that’s the stage name I’m using for this gig. As performers, we go where the contracts are to our advantage. I’m sure a man of your status can understand making the best business deal.” He looked the Condorian over with what he hoped was his best, come-hither expression. D’uhr had to want
him
, not Lyra. If the admiral’s tastes now ran to men as Aigean claimed, then she might be safe for a while longer.

Kardis stared back at Soldar. “You have scars on your body that mock your words.” He stepped closer. “If I believed there was a spy among the crew, I would take everyone off this ship and have them beheaded for harboring such an agent.” He put his hand to Soldar’s throat and squeezed a bit for effect. “I would then take that spy below deck and allow my men the luxury of a long and entertaining torture.”

“What? These little cuts?” Soldar girlishly responded in reference to the scars. He also raised one hand and sensually stroked the fingers now closing about his larynx. “Law enforcement authorities incarcerated me for six months on Signus Mondi,” he lied. “The constables took exception to an escape attempt I bungled. I’ve been meaning to make an appointment to have these unsightly marks removed, but some of my clients actually find them attractive. It’s been said they enhance my masculinity.”

D’uhr stood straighter when the name Signus Mondi was mentioned. The admiral’s eyes narrowed and he fixed his gaze on Soldar as if the mention of that world was the most important thing he’d ever heard. “And what was your crime? Were any incarcerated with you?”

“Prostitution was the infraction listed on the books. And yes … there were others with me but I prefer not to talk about it right now,” he insisted as he slyly shifted his gaze in Lyra’s direction.

Kardis nodded covertly then turned an impassive countenance toward Lyra. “And who is this creature?”

“Just call me Lyra,” she swiftly answered without offering her hand in greeting. “I speak several languages if English bothers you. It just happens to be the most universally accepted on these pleasure ships.”

“You obviously hail from some world other than Craetoria, woman. You have no face marking as one of that race, but you are banded with this man,” he stated as he suspiciously looked her and her armband over.

“I’m from Gratis Major,” she easily responded. “We speak English there, but you must surely know that.” She lifted the palm of her right hand and covered her armband with it. “As to this old thing … don’t take it to heart. Sol and I paired for business reasons. It’s a mixed-race arrangement that makes getting work easier. As a twosome, we’re more in demand.” She glanced downward at the admiral’s hand.

Soldar saw her quickly avert her gaze. To see what had so alarmed her, he also glanced down at D’uhr’s hands. He understood why Lyra hadn’t offered a handshake.

The back of the admiral’s hands were covered with strange red blotches, ringed by darker red circles. There were other such markings on the man’s neck. D’uhr had apparently tried to hide it by wearing his collar higher. When the huge Condorian saw where
his
attention lingered, the brute’s gaze took on a hostile gleam and he pulled at the fabric of his clothing in an apparent attempt to conceal his ailment.

“Since learning new entertainment was hired, I insisted on meeting you,” D’uhr stated as he stuck his hand behind his back. “I have ample provisions in my quarters … only my most trusted officers are ever present. But Aigean tells me you’ll only be available in the early hours of the morning.” He glared at Soldar before stepping closer to him. “What possible reason could there be for my demand being dismissed?”

Soldar simply shrugged. “Our contracts allow us time to cleanse ourselves and have massages after performances. Regrouping for the next show takes time.”

Lyra chimed in. “And I’d certainly have to pick out some appropriate clothing at any rate. An extra half hour or so with the masseuse would be delightful.”

D’uhr studied them for a long moment. “If preening will make you more amenable to my …
hospitality
… then I’ll expect you at the ringing of this ship’s two bells. Do not be late!” He turned and took several steps away then stopped and glanced backward as if one other detail needed clarification. “Signus Mondi, you said?”

Soldar stepped closer to him before murmuring, “We can discuss whatever’s on your mind later.”

For a moment, D’uhr froze in place. Then he gathered himself, shook his head as if to clear it, and stalked away.

When the enemy was out of earshot, Lyra let out a long breath and ran both her hands through her hair. “Slimy, scum-sucking son-of-a-bitch!”

“For half a Craetorian coin I’d break that bastard’s neck and incinerate him on a pile of refuse!” Soldar bitterly agreed.

The servant girl who’d almost been struck approached them. She’d hovered in the background, waiting for her chance to speak freely. “I-I thank you for not letting him strike me, Craetorian. It would not be the first time he’s done so. However, it might be better in future if you allowed him to vent. It would seem too honorable to keep him from hitting me again,” she cautioned. “Now, please, we must get you to your quarters. Aigean will meet us there. She must make apologies to others who are queuing to entertain you. It would be impossible for you to accept
all
the incoming invitations.”

With a sense of purpose, Soldar took Lyra’s hand and followed the servant girl back to their quarters. The sex scene he thought would be one of the most arduous tasks for his partner was just the beginning. Lyra still had to get on the bridge and deliver the warning about the Taurean Seti-Seven attack. Then they had to act as if they were flattered to be entertained by a Condorian murderer.

If the Creator saw fit to gift him with a fully loaded laser pistol, he’d have used it on D’uhr without question, forgoing a mission that was likely to fail. Nothing could undo the fact that all the Allied Forces were outnumbered and would eventually fall. Walking through D’uhr’s hatch later in the night, and firing on him and then his cohorts would be well worth his life. But committing such a foolhardy act was not
worth
the lives of innocents on this vessel who protected him. Nor was it worth having the surviving allied warriors discovered where they lay, secreted within servants’ spaces.

Finally, such a foolhardy act would never be worth Lyra’s life. No, he couldn’t indulge his desires to go off mission. There were hundreds of officers at Allied Command awaiting any message pertaining to future attacks. His selfish, impulsive instincts had to be put aside. Of the factors that kept him from plunging his fist into Kardis D’uhr’s face and breaking his neck, Lyra’s safety outweighed them all.

More and more he was finding himself connected to the Earther. She induced desires no other being ever had. He quickly tried to sort his feelings and put them into perspective. Perhaps the peril of this situation was endowing her with more importance than would have otherwise existed. A place deep in his heart told him differently.

As they strode toward their quarters, he glanced at her.

Lyra walked on his left side. Apparently ignorant to the meaning, this was the position any Craetorian bride would take while walking with her man.

The left side of the body was closer to the heart, and the woman who stood on that side possessed the unconditional love of her mate. Coincidentally, a small lift of her chin made her appear even more Craetorian than Earther. The fear she’d displayed before their performance seemed buried. Her lovely eyes blazed with spirit and there was a feisty, determined expression on her face. For however long this mission lasted, he knew she was his. Raising his right hand, he briefly touched the armband on his left bicep. The gesture was a reminder that they were, indeed, connected. Surprisingly, he felt her grip his left hand tightly. Then she lowered her right cheek to that band on his bicep and silently nuzzled it. It was as if she knew what he was thinking.