Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Unfortunately for Captain Ruciyah, I was the only one on board with any sort of link to Louxuria.
In the few days since the discussion in the mess, I’d avoided him at all costs, unable to stomach even the sound of his heavy tread across the floor.
My small room had become my sanctuary, though after over a full cycle of climbing and silks my hands itched with restlessness.
So each day I scaled the ventilation shaft, searching around for hidden rooms or anything that might help me.
Not that I found any. In fact, I’d been lucky the captain had chosen to take the prisoner where he had. The ship’s environmental system was split into three separate sections with the living quarters being the smallest of the three.
I took most of my meals from the small meal renderer in the common living area after the rest of the crew went to sleep. I also ignored Greabes’ grumbles on the other side of my door when he came to drag me to dinner—confirming I was, in fact, the only one with access to my room.
Perhaps it was cowardice, hiding from Captain Ruciyah.
But I needed time to pull the pieces of myself back together again and push away the screams that vibrated through my skull every time I saw him.
I had been raised to believe the best in others, raised on kindness and fairness, but I could no longer find that part of myself anymore.
Not after the years on Ebyd III. My nightmares roared to life each night until I barely slept.
In only a few days the dark circles beneath my eyes reappeared with a vengeance.
“Can’t sleep?” Maxtalen murmured behind me.
I spun, fist clenching around the stirring stick on the counter beside me. But the male stood a few paces back, eyes wide and hands raised. His tablet flashed in one while the other held an empty cup.
“Maker, sorry,” he wheezed, taking another step back.
Lowering my hand, I grabbed the beverage I’d been making—some hot drink I’d never seen before. It was faintly spicy and I’d found I’d developed a taste for it over the last few days. I cleared my throat. “No…I’m sorry.”
When I turned back to him, he was blinking at me rapidly, a flush rising in his cheeks. “Want me to leave?”
With a shake of my head, I moved to one of the chairs around the table the twins and Crux liked to play cards on. I’d watched them once playing long hours into the night from my perch in the ventilation system. Rys cheated every time and I was pretty sure Crux did too.
Maxtalen moved up to the renderer to refill his cup and passed a hand over his face.
“So far, no luck with finding a way into the gala. I keep looking for a back door to their security system or a way to fake an invitation, but it’s looking more and more like we’ll have to go through the proper channels. ”
I nodded, having figured as much. We had some time, but every day that passed the window closed until I wondered if the captain would take the reckless route of storming the planet and killing us all.
“You know someone from Louxuria?”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I nodded again.
“From the outpost you came from? Wuaxia?”
Something like doubt shimmered in his eyes. I didn’t know much about Wuaxia but from the look on his face it appeared it wasn’t a place Louxurians would frequent.
“No…” I rasped, clearing my throat again. “From before.”
Maxtalen’s lips pursed and he cautiously made his way over, slipping into the chair across from me. “You don’t speak much.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Countless others on the Daskquah had felt the need to point this out as if it might unlock something between us or as the beginning of a question they would never ask: why? But after a moment Maxtalen’s cheeks flushed deeper and he dropped his gaze to his cup.
“Your voice is beautiful.”
A muscle feathered in my jaw and I froze. But he didn’t move toward me or reach for my hand and after a moment I forced myself to relax. When he looked up, he blinked again and swallowed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—”
“Maxtalen,” Captain Ruciyah snapped, appearing as if out of thin air from the mouth of the corridor. “You’re needed in nav.”
At once the male jumped to his feet, giving me a quick, embarrassed nod, and skittered away. Something about that look softened me to him just a bit and I wondered if he hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
I kept my attention fixed on my cup, taking a small sip even though the thick liquid caught in my throat.
“How well do you know this Louxurian?” The captain’s voice was a low rumble and my muscles locked into place. He was much closer than before.
He’d somehow quieted his heavy gait and my skin crawled. I took my time with another seemingly casual sip of my drink and traced a small burn mark in the table with the tip of my finger.
“Jun—”
“He’s Lunastra’s assistant.”
This time Captain Ruciyah’s steps were audible as he rounded the table until he towered over me.
He’d taken off the upper part of his mask and the silver of his eyes was a brand against my skin.
Black hair waved around his face, falling well past his shoulders, and it looked wild, as if he’d been running his fingers through it.
Burn it to the ground.
My jaw clicked as I clenched it.
“Have you spoken with her?”
I shook my head. It was the truth. I had no personal communicator, only the tracker in my arm, but I wouldn’t be informing him of that.
From the corner of my eye, the captain ran a hand through his hair before gathering it into a knot on the top of his head.
Unconsciously, it seemed, he took a step closer and I fought the urge to push my chair back.
Even now my throat ached from the pressure of his forearm, my voice even raspier than it had been before.
“Then I suppose we’re taking a detour to the Daskquah.” He turned away and threw over his shoulder: “Get ready to see your mistress.”
…
The next evening Captain Ruciyah, Greabes, and I stood side by side waiting for the ramp of the small cruiser to open into the hangar bay of the Daskquah. Electricity vibrated in the air until Greabes muttered a curse and stepped back with a wave of his hand.
“Maker, you two need to pull yourselves together. This male and most of this universe-damned ship believes she’s your personal pleasure yeska, so whatever murderous feelings you have for each other need to be put aside for the next hour.”
A gnawing pit opened in my belly and I exhaled slowly through my nose, thanking the universe and her Maker it was only a story.
“Perhaps I like murderous little sneaks.” The captain’s hands flexed at his sides. He took a step closer to me and even the blood in my veins seemed to stop moving. I swallowed once, twice, three times, breathing out through my nose, and wondered if I would be sick.
Greabes cursed again right as the ramp lowered to the ground, bringing Lyrace into view.
He smiled in the courteous way he did for patrons, outfitted in a deep ruby three-piece suit complete with a half cloak over his right shoulder.
But his bland smile faltered at the sight of me, his gaze raking over my braided hair and the circles beneath my eyes before he masked it.
“Captain, what a pleasure to see you again,” Lyrace purred, bowing his head. “Mistress is waiting for you in the gemstone room.”
Ruciyah pressed a hand against the small of my back and I jumped before his fingers tightened on my cloak.
I’d worn a similar outfit to him—the same one I’d worn when we’d infiltrated Keva Um’plem—to give the illusion of our alliance.
Perhaps Lyrace would believe Quinzyr males preferred their pleasure yeskas dressed in a similar fashion to themselves.
With a firm grip, Captain Ruciyah guided me down the ramp, his hand smoothing out as we came to a stop.
Lyrace’s shrewd gaze lingered on the space between us, but his practiced expression of polite disinterest reappeared.
He barely gave Greabes a passing glance while we strode through the hangar and into the lush halls of the pleasure barge.
But the captain did not lower his hand. The heat of his wide palm melted through my clothes and made my skin itch.
Every so often I thought he would release me while we traveled through the winding halls, but then a patron or yeska would appear and he would drift a little closer until I was tucked beneath his arm completely.
And with each step, each bump of my shoulder against his side, each brush of his hand against my hip, I heard the screams of my people in my ears.
Smelled their burnt flesh on the air.
Watched as he pointed a bare hand toward our home tree with a bored expression.
I couldn’t remember my sister’s name. My mother’s face. My father’s laugh.
But I remembered him.
By the time we reached Lunastra’s greeting room I wasn’t sure what my face looked like. Only that Captain Ruciyah’s hand had become a vice against my hip and every few steps his mask tilted down toward me.
I took a deep breath, finding the notes of spice and burning incense on the air, listened to the distant sounds of music in the entertaining rooms and one very vocal patron finding their pleasure.
This was a job, a mission, and at the end of it I would make sure I was there to watch the life leave this male’s eyes. I would tear him apart piece by piece the way he had my village, my people, my world.
And with that thought in mind, I relaxed into his hold even as my stomach roiled, allowing him to tug me through the door and into my mistress’ waiting arms.