Chapter 9
The Sineater
I was very good at making myself feel like shit, but what I’d done this time was probably my worst move ever.
Frederique—small, brave little human that she was—had more guts than I had in my pinky finger.
She’d known, and what had I done? I’d slapped her in the face, made her feel cheap and dirty. Made myself feel that way too.
The tiny escape pod was so small that there was no escaping one another, but all my anger—all my rage—had withered until I felt like I was about to fade into the walls.
She could not retreat from me, though she clearly wanted to, and I could not leave her and her feelings in peace.
No, what she felt now was so richly fulfilling to Val that it was a veritable banquet: pain, shame, despair, and yes, all the grief from before over discovering the loss of her crew, piling on top of it.
I’d played my crewmates, incited their feelings, sometimes to feed, sometimes because I knew, in the end, it would help them see the light.
It had never made me feel like shit, but this did.
If I could take it back, I would, the words, not the sex.
This was probably when I owed her an apology, but those words never managed to pass across my lips.
Val was feeding, soaking it up, and still, it was not enough to lessen the intense things Frederique was feeling.
Never did any of it show on her face—not when I finally released her so she could slip off my cock, not when she cleaned up with the scraps of her torn panties, and not when she dressed in her uniform.
In the limited space, all of it meant touching me, bumping into me when she stuck her legs in her pants, a brush as she sat back down against my knees.
It all felt cold, impersonal, distant. She had retreated in her mind, even if she could not create physical distance.
I told myself it was better this way. She couldn’t be my mate, given the wreck my life was. My bond with Val was messed up; I’d mess up the one with Frederique even worse. I already had. I slanted a look her way through my lashes and ached when I realized her lower lip was trembling.
Val hadn’t cradled my body in armor since I’d started the sensual dance with my mate.
Now I realized that she had not returned at all; she was on the other side of the tiny pod, wrapped around Frederique’s shoulders like a cloak.
It might simply be to give her easier access to all the things my mate was feeling—to feed—but I had a sinking feeling that it was not.
I’d managed to piss off both my ladies in one fell swoop.
I didn’t know how to fix any of it, and I was actually relieved when an alarm started blaring. A distraction, we could all use that, even if it came in the form of a dangerous alien life form attacking a tiny, fragile little escape pod.
Val responded to the emergency by circling my mate and creating protective armor that covered her entire body.
She made a surprised sound but quickly muffled it.
Hunching over the control panel forced my shoulder into her face, but I could not feel the warmth of her breathing through the armor, only the ghost of it against the edge of my neck.
I forced myself to focus on the emergency, quickly appraising the risk and our options.
There was no way I’d let Frederique into the water, where they could grab hold of her.
“Hold on tight,” I warned, though it was mostly for Val, so she could secure my mate against the coming acceleration.
I forced the pod to divert power from life support to the engines, and it leaped toward the surface.
Though capable of flight, the pod was never meant to go far and was better suited for space than atmosphere.
We were lucky to have gotten this close to the ocean’s surface already.
There wasn’t enough power to get us out of range of the shadowy threat and to the strip of rock in the distance.
Lifting my hand, I thumped it against the tightly sealed hatch.
“It’s going to be rough,” I warned. She resisted when I grabbed her around the waist, but Val slid over her head, covering her face with a helmet.
I never heard her words as I gave the hatch another strike.
It spun away, and the pod lost all pressure.
We didn’t need it—Ysa’s armor also came with a helmet and oxygen.
It slid over my face, and then I was throwing both of us out of the narrow opening.
The boosters in my suit did the rest. Val kept Frederique’s body safely encased and protected, but I still cradled her carefully against my chest as we flew.
Well, “flying” was too grand a word for it, we were careening through the air at high speed, falling.
The boosters could only prolong that, but aimed right at the distant island, I was certain we’d make it.
On our approach, Val spread around my chest, then unfurled on my back like a parachute.
Rock crunched beneath my boots, boosters depleted, and with a screech, darkness sank back into the waves behind us, unable to reach.
My human stray was wobbly when I put her back on her feet, and Val seemed to take a moment before she retracted from around her face.
Her expression was furious and pale, and I worried she was slipping into shock.
Her eyes met mine, just a brief flash of green before she turned away, a metaphysical slap that I deserved.
Val was watching her, guarding her, so I focused on what needed to happen.
It was easier to think about the mission than about potential futures I wasn’t sure would ever exist. Although Val was far from hungry right now, and there was nothing gnawing at my gut other than my own turmoil.
In fact, Val seemed to have gained a little bulk since we’d met Frederique.
Now, she could cover her in armor, and still have plenty for her Gracka shape—and then some.
It was far larger than normal, and that couldn’t all be attributed to the much smaller person she was covering.
I didn’t want to let that stir hope in my chest, but it did.
The island was a slab of granite shaped like a crescent.
I’d parked my small shuttle on one end, behind several craggy outcroppings and spindly black trees.
On the other end, the island rose sharply, twisting into the gray skies.
Cliff faces were a barrier against the water, and their height provided ample protection against whatever stirred beneath the surface.
The beach we were on was closer to my shuttle than to the cliffs, but we would still be in view of anyone who cared to look.
On the cliffs, a building squatted, large and domineering.
Walls of gray rock and reinforced steel, towers and turrets, and several gates separated the castle from the rest of the planet.
From a handful of tiny windows near the top of one spire, lights glowed.
Someone was home, but it could hardly be called an overwhelming force.
It was unfortunate, but it meant Jalima was likely not here.
The water itself was placid, lapping at the rocky beach behind me with an almost pleasant sound.
I had not forgotten the massive shadows beneath the surface that had traced our path through the sky.
Whatever was in the water, it was far bigger than the creature aboard the Lancing Light.
Far bigger. I glanced at Frederique, covered in Val’s silver form, and wondered what would have happened had I encountered one of those on my way down to the ship.
It might have swallowed me whole, and I might not have been able to get it to spit me back out.
“Come,” I said, “I’ll take you to my shuttle first, and then I’ll finish my mission.
” I did not remind her that my mission was to kill someone, anyone in that castle, if they stood in my way.
She heard me speak in what was perhaps my kindest voice yet, but it did not make her look at me.
She nodded vaguely in my direction, but her eyes were on the castle in the distance.
I knew enough of her by now to know it would have made her curious, but I did not explain.
The path to the shuttle was rocky, uneven, and far from pleasant walking.
Encased in Val, it was easy for my stray thoughts to wander, and I was glad she didn’t give me any reason to touch her.
I didn’t want to know how she’d respond if I so much as touched her finger—probably snap at me.
It was shocking how tempting it was to try, to provoke her, to force her to be close to me. I kept my distance instead.
The shuttle was only barely visible against the dark landscape, and the triple suns were setting in the south.
Streaks of green, purple, and red faintly tinted the horizon, but not enough to make this planet look anything but morbid.
It was almost night, which provided the perfect cover to infiltrate the stronghold and take care of any resistance.
It was clear that Frederique was having trouble with the rapidly fading light, and though Val could do a lot, she would never go so far as to direct her movements, control her.
That was very different from holding my mate in place for me during sex.
The thought made me recall Frederique’s heat as I sank into her, the sounds she’d made as she came apart.
It heated my flesh, hardened my cock until I ached.
But then I recalled the wounded look in her eyes when I’d snarled at her.
Just to punish her for her bold words, for daring to call me a coward unwilling to face his feelings, snapping at her like a wounded beast because she was right.