45. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
V artan
Pounding headache. Stiff muscles. The last thing I remember we were being boarded by pirates. What’s happened to me? Opening my eyes to slits, I try to figure out where I am.
I had been waiting outside the boarding area. I was to be part of the second wave against our attackers. However, when I look to my left, I see Dax’s wooden bas relief on the wall. I’m in the dining hall.
Bodies surround me. None are moving. All dead! Dear Gods! The enormity of this sweeps over me with such force it makes my gut cramp. Lyra! I must find her.
Eyes still barely open, I take a swift inventory of the room and see none of the boarding party.
Rolling onto all fours, it takes me a moment to feel my limbs, but I manage to lurch to a standing position.
As I survey, I see every male and female on board lying in two rows on their backs on the floor. Is everyone dead but me? Lyra’s not here. Is she dead? Alive? Taken? Was my female stolen from me only moments after we discovered our love for each other? The fates are cruel.
I kneel next to Stryker, who is closest to me. Touching his carotid, I feel his pulse. Is it a miracle? Did more than one of us survive this attack? I perform another visual inspection as my brain struggles to clear. There is no blood. No obvious signs of trauma on me or anyone else. They must have gassed us.
My blood runs cold when I realize Theo and Doctoré are missing. I’ll have to perform a thorough search for them in a minima.
My brain is now fully online, and I realize we’re being warehoused in this one room. Are our enemies watching us? Will they come barging in when they see my movement?
A low moan drifts from behind me. I turn to see bearded Dax sitting up, his palm rubbing the back of his neck. Axxios the pilot is stirring, his brother Braxxus is rolling to his knees.
“Vartan! Axxios! Braxxus! Come to the bridge!” Is that Lyra’s voice?
I skirt the room, trying to stay in the cameras’ blind spots in case our captors are watching us, although Lyra’s shouted commands must have alerted them that some of us are awake, or is she being forced to call us? Then I see the decapitated Frains. What the drack happened here?
“No need to hide. Get your asses to the bridge. Now!” There’s no fear in her voice. She’s not being compelled. My body transforms from high alert to a powerful urge to join my female.
The three of us barge through the double doors and out into the hallway as Dax attends to others who seem to be waking.
Lyra’s alive! I’m alive! Is it possible we all survived the pirate attack?
I’m the first to crash through the bridge door to see Lyra sitting in the captain’s chair. She jumps out of it and runs to me, jumping into my arms.
“You’re alive, Lyra. How?” I smooth her hair and gaze into her eyes, wanting the connection— needing the connection.
“I’ll tell you everything in a minima . Let me hold you for just a moment.” She’s clutching me so tightly it’s as if I’m her lifeline. “I thought you were dead for a while, Vartan. I’m so glad you’re alive.”
I crush her to me and dust a hundred kisses on her lips and cheeks—even her eyelids. I’m so glad we’re together.
Glancing forward, Beast and Tyree are on screen with a grin of relief on their faces. “We’ll sign off now. Happy to see you’re alive,” Beast says, and they disappear.
“Hey, you two!” Axxios scolds Lyra and me. “Report.”
It’s only after I set Lyra on her feet that I see she’s not wearing any pants. She doesn’t seem shy about her body like the other females, though. It makes sense. She was naked for the first nineteen annums of her life.
As she strides to the front windows to give us a rundown, I see two dead Xelkets in the back corner of the bridge. Their heads have been neatly sliced from their bodies. Did little Lyra do this?
When I glance at her, her back to the front windows that also serve as vid screens, I see the feed from the dining hall. Most of the crew are stirring andstaring at the three beheaded Frains slumped at various places in the room.
“Zar, come to the bridge,” Braxxus commands when he sees the captain is up and about. His voice now tender, he adds, “Brianna love, can you join your mates here too? I need you on my lap.” Axxios and Braxxus are mated to Brianna who looks directly into the camera, flashes a grin that lights up her pretty face, and darts out of the room.
A minima later, the room is filled with the two pilots, Captain Zar, who’s carrying his mate Anya and doesn’t look like he’s going to release her anytime soon, and Brianna. She’s in Braxxus’s lap in the first mate’s chair and holding Axxios’s hand as he sits in the pilot’s chair. Lyra’s standing in front of the large screen waiting patiently.
“Tell us everything from the beginning,” Zar commands.
Lyra explains what happened in a clear, concise manner. I’m so proud of her, my chest is full to bursting. Was it only a few lunars ago she didn’t know how to hold a fork or decide whether she wanted the blue or green shirt?
“I love you,” I blurt. Even though the room is full of people who could judge me, I repeat it, “I love you, Lyra. I am so proud of you. You’re such a strong person.”
She receives my compliment with obvious joy and doesn’t hesitate a moment before she responds, “I love you too, Vartan.”
Instead of being greeted with derision, Zar hugs Anya tightly, rubs his feline nose against her human one, and says, “You’re my beloved, Anya. I’m so glad we lived through that.”
Not to be outdone, Axxios rises from his chair and squats next to his brother and Brianna. “I love you both.” I watch them hug for a moment, then glance at Lyra and pat my lap. She runs to join me on the comms chair I’ve appropriated. It’s no surprise that almost dying reminds you of your priorities.
“Back to business,” Zar says, his tone serious. “Are we sure this female’s name is Khour? The same name as our recently slaughtered enemy, Daneur Khour? He enslaved us, played with our lives for annums, and chased us since our rebellion, insisting he still owned us all. We killed him not more than a few lunars ago.”
“A quick look at the Intergalactic Database tells me Khour has children,” Braxxus says, his hands roaming his computer screen. “Females all over the galaxy are claiming to have given birth to his spawn, but it looks as if there are three he acknowledged, all by different mothers. Two sons and a daughter.”
“She said her father had tasked her and her two brothers with retrieving all of you as well as this ship,” Lyra says.
“Let’s assume this is his child. It sounds like she inherited his penchant for avarice, cruelty, and destruction. She has two of our males,” Zar says. “She brought the fight to us. With Theos and Doctoré in her clutches, we must pursue. I believe we have no choice, but we’re a democracy. I need to speak with all the crew.”
Zar asks the twin pilots to stay on the bridge when he joins the rest of the crew in the dining area. Before he leaves, he asks, “Your votes?”
“No crew member left behind,” Brianna says. Her mates nod in agreement.
Zar convenes a meeting in the dining hall they can watch on the vid feed. When we arrive, Savannah is weeping at one of the tables, Dahlia is hugging her from one side as Petra slips next to her from the other.
I know the history of this crew. Rileigh was originally paired with Doctoré. Like all the other pairs on this ship, they were expected to copulate daily, or both would die. They didn’t bond or mate like many other pairs have but the time they shared before they fought for their liberation must have left an indelible mark on her heart. She appears sad and stunned as she holds Dahlia’s hand.
“I believe we have to get Theos and Doctoré back,” Zar begins the discussion and then fills everyone in on what transpired.
I didn’t know Theos well. He was quiet, thoughtful, and respectful. He preferred lifting weights in the ludus to sparring. I’ve never heard a harsh word spoken about him.
Doctoré chose to stay in his room and seldom joined the group. He was older than the rest of us and well respected. He sparred with me a few times and I never failed to learn something from him. He was a born teacher.
Within a few minimas , the vote to pursue the cartel’s ship is unanimous. I knew the gladiators would vote as one unit. We’ve stared death in the eye too many times to shy from it when it involves retrieving our own. It surprised me the females agreed. Pride swells in my chest to be part of such a courageous crew.
“We will leave no one behind,” Zar says. “I’d like to wait for the Devil’s Playground to join us before we attack, but that may not be possible. We’ll do what we must to bring them back. You have my promise.”
Lyra
Even though everyone but me got a nice long nap, I join in the cleaning frenzy. Except for the fine dusting of powder from the exploded canisters that covers every flat surface, I made the biggest part of the mess. The blood from the Frains that has created three large pools in the dining hall, and the Xelkets’ blood on the bridge was all my doing.
“We didn’t thank you,” Anya says as she helps Vartan and me mop the caustic yellow mess from the dining hall floor.
“No thanks are necessary,” I say as I focus my attention on my task.
Almost as if he’d been listening, Zar announces, “We’ve all just had a close brush with death. I’ve been preoccupied, but I give my highest thanks for all our lives to Lyra, our newest crew member.”
His face is on every vid screen in the room when he gives me what I’ve learned is the highest praise one gladiator can give to another. He looks into the camera as if he’s gazing straight into my eyes, then bows his head and thumps his fist to his chest.
I have to swallow, hard, to keep from crying at how deeply his praise and acceptance touch me. Every male and female in the room set down their mops and rags, turn toward me, and mimic his actions. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I feel fully accepted. Despite what we’ve all just been through, my heart is full to bursting.
“We’d all be on our way to one of the worst slave auction pens in the galaxy if it weren’t for you,” Steele says. “I went to retrieve Braxxus when slavers were holding him there. I won’t even describe it with females present, especially with my Zoey here. It was horrible.”
Steele’s very shy mate Zoey is quietly working beside him and looks up at his silver face with adoration in her eyes and a sad smile on her face. I like her; she reminds me of myself—friendly but would rather work alone
For a moment I allow myself to imagine traveling back in time to speak to the younger Lyra who was lying at her Master’s feet. I tell her that in a few lunars she’ll be a free female who saved everyone on a space vessel single-handedly. And she’ll have the love of a wonderful male. My younger self could never have imagined such a thing.
“You’ve done enough,” Vartan tells me as he pulls me to my feet from where I’m wiping acidic drops of blood several feet from where I severed one of their heads.
He escorts me to my cabin but doesn’t cross the threshold. He just stands and looks wistfully at me and then the bed.
“After what we’ve been through do you think you need an invitation?” I ask.
“You’ve endured an ordeal. I didn’t want to presume.”
“You just had a long nap, but I didn’t. Care to join me?”
A smile warms his face.
“I need a shower. A long one,” I say. I ran to my room after Zar’s meeting and pulled on a pair of black leggings. These now have pinholes where the Frain blood splattered as I was cleaning.
“I’ve dreamed about a lot of things since my punishment began. Want to hear one that was at the top of the list?” Vartan asks.
I’ve never heard his voice so husky before. I have a feeling what he’s going to tell me will be good.
“I’ll only listen if you’re naked,” I say as I pull off my clothes.
“Bossy!” he scolds as he tears off his loincloth.
One look at his naked body goes a long way toward erasing the events of the last day. My fingers itch to touch his red and gold flesh. My mouth goes dry as my thoughts jump to all the pleasures we’re going to share in that bed.
“Okay, handsome male. Tell me what was at the top of the list.”
“Too late,” he teases, “now I’ll have to show you.”
He steps into the running shower, grasps my wrist, and doesn’t need to coax me to join him. I’m dying to kiss him, but I feel filthy. Between the dusty vent and all that blood, I want soap and water. The murders I committed? I’ll need more than scrubbing to wash those away.
He positions me facing the shower’s back wall, places my hands against the cool metal over my head, and uses the spray to wet me from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. Then he soaps the cloth and washes me down.
It’s hard to believe this was at the top of his fantasies. There’s nothing sensual about what he’s doing. He’s not making love to my body, not caressing my skin, he hasn’t even pressed his lips to mine.
“I’m washing it away, Love,” he whispers into my ear.
The soft cloth soaps every nook and cranny of my body.
“Watch it go down the drain, little Lyra.”
I’m not exactly sure what he means, but I tip my head and watch the soapy water swirl between my feet, then flow toward the drain.
“I’ve been here, Love. Many times. I used to wish for this feeling to go away. I prayed to become hardened to killing like the males I lived with in the barracks. I didn’t, though. After every fight, whether I killed someone or just hurt them, I felt regret. No matter what race they were, how foreign they looked, or how hard they pounded me while on the sands of the arena, I always felt remorse. To make it better, I developed this.”
As he talked, he dropped the cloth and began washing me with his bare hands. His warm, red palms are thorough. They’re not seductive, they’re cleaning me.
“Here,” he says as he turns me toward him. His voice is so calm, so accepting. “Let it all wash away, Lyra. Know this. You did what you had to do. I’m sure it was hard, but every female and male on this ship owe you their life. Let all your guilt and remorse travel down the drain along with the soap and any remnants of your fight.” Tears pool in my eyes—a mixture of so many emotions—then run down my cheeks. “Your tears too, Lyra, let them out,” he coaxes.
He positions me over the drain and stands behind me, soaping my hair with hands so gentle you’d never know they were more at home wielding a longsword than a brush.
He grows silent as I watch the soap and tears swirl down the drain for long moments. I allow five pictures to drift through my mind, vowing to myself I will never look at them again. I play the internal vid of each beheading, glad they were all asleep from the gas. Their eyes were closed.
I say a silent prayer of contrition, then lean back against Vartan, find his wrists with my hands, and pull them around my waist. No more soap circles the drain. No more tears flow down my face.
“It’s over,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
He hugs me tight as the warm water sprays us both. His chin rests on my head for a moment, then I feel his soft kisses.
“You’re a good female, Lyra. A hero.”
I laugh. What a funny word to describe me.
He must know I’m having trouble taking it in, because he solemnly repeats, “A hero.”
“I’ll try to believe it, Vartan.” I turn in his arms and face him. Our gazes meet and really connect for the first time since the klaxons began ringing. “My Vartan,” I say as I press the pad of my finger back and forth across his full lips.
“My Lyra.”
He sees me. I’ve been invisible my whole life, but this male sees me. And I see him.
“I’m going to take you to your bed and hold you in my arms. Just as I wanted to do a lunar ago, that day I couldn’t be there for you in the way you wanted, the way you deserved. I’m going to gently caress you to sleep, our bodies so close no light can peek through. When you awaken, I’ll learn your body. And you’ll learn mine.”