Chapter 13
GARK
“Are you sure you want to come?”
Aletta was standing next to him as they waited for the ramp to lower. They had arrived on Irith’s Moons again that morning, Aletta muttering something about groundhogs, which had made no sense to Gark. He’d asked her what a small mammal had to do with a space station, and she’d bent over laughing.
He’d decided there were some things he just didn’t need to know about human culture.
While they waited for a berth, Aletta had run through all she remembered about the bar where A’Kar had taken her.
Thanks to the security footage, they had a good idea of where it was, and after a lot of arguing, they decided to just walk up to the door and knock.
Aletta remembered the code word A’Kar had used, so it seemed like the easiest way to gain entry.
Getting out might prove more difficult.
“Try and stop me.” She fiddled with the zipper on her jacket as if she needed something to do with her hands.
She was back in her own clothes, after Gark had laundered them for her while she slept. Some ships had replicators, but the technology was expensive, and The Lady hadn’t needed it before now. He wished he had purchased one when he had the chance, so he could make Aletta some better-fitting clothes.
“Promise me you’ll stay back with Vox if I ask you to.”
The ramp lowered with a muffled boom from the rubber stoppers on the underside.
Aletta shot him a glance, but didn’t answer. Instead, she strode determinedly down the ramp and into the hangar. Gark followed, sighing and shaking his head. What did he expect? Compliance?
He huffed a laugh. Never, not from his Aletta.
But she hasn’t agreed to be yours yet.
No. She hadn’t.
Because he hadn’t told her the truth. If he told her, and she rejected him, how would he survive?
He remembered his father’s stories about what happened to rejected mates.
He’d laughed, dismissing them as myths, but now he wondered if there was an element of truth in them.
Would he go insane if she rejected him? Lose his ability to reason and turn feral?
He shook his head. They were stories, that’s all. None of it was real.
You thought there was no chance of finding your mate, either.
He pursed his lips and strode after her, quickly catching up. He didn’t have time to think about this right now.
Gark quickly caught up with Aletta, and Vox paced beside him. They slowed their pace to match that of her shorter steps, the three of them making an odd-looking group.
Jarden and Arik were on the captive ship, still orbiting the station, until Gark gave them the all-clear to dock and offload their prisoners. He didn’t want to let any of the Alliance left in the bar know they were coming.
The station was at its familiar level of busy, but they quickly made their way to the corridor where Aletta had winked out of sight on the security feed.
She pointed down a corridor. “It’s down there, then another turn, and it’s in a dingy-looking alley.”
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Right. Let’s do this.” She held out her hands to Gark, who wrapped a length of cord around her wrists.
“Remember, pull this way, and it will come undone,” he said, showing her how to undo the knot with a flick of her wrists. “Ready?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Yep.”
“I’ll go ahead and knock. I’ll give the code, and then we’ll all enter.” Vox repeated the plan, and they all nodded.
“I’ll pretend to be terrified and see if I can find the woman I saw when I was here before.”
It was Gark’s turn. “I don’t like this plan.”
Aletta snorted. “Look, it’s the best way to get them to let us in.”
He scowled. “But to offer you up as bait after—”
She cut him off. “Nobody had a better idea. For all we know, she’s been shipped off to some brothel like they were going to do with me.”
Gark hated that she was right.
“Look,” she said, her voice softening. Vox turned away, scanning the corridors to make sure they weren’t being watched. “I’m sure we’d be able to come up with a better plan with time, but I can’t just leave her there.”
Gark nodded. “All right. In that case, I’ll play the muscle and keep you in line. I’ll be right next to you the entire time.”
“I know.” She smiled briefly. “Let’s do this.”
They headed down the corridor, slipping into character like their lives depended on it, which he supposed they might. When he’d been in the military, he’d always been the pilot, then he’d been a commander of troops, but he’d never been a covert operative. He’d never been a spy.
Vox, on the other hand, was eerily convincing as he sauntered up to the door and gave the code word. Aletta didn’t have to pretend to be terrified; she was shaking, her face pale and chest heaving with every breath.
The door opened, and they headed into the bar, past a guard who made Gark glad he had Vox with him. That one was far too big to be easy to take down on his own.
It was dimly lit, with a long bar against one wall. The tables were mostly empty, though a few had Taureans clad in black playing various gambling games. A haze of smoke filled the room.
Vox sauntered up to the bar, and Gark followed, dragging Aletta with him. Vox leaned against the bar, his back to the room, gesturing for the bartender.
Aletta stumbled forward, hands raised to cover her face. “She’s not here. I can’t see her anywhere.”
Gark cursed. They’d counted on the woman being in the main bar and getting out quickly. Every minute they spent here increased the chance of them being discovered.
“I have a thing for humans,” Vox said as the bartender slid what looked like two Tarkethian ales toward him.
There was a note of distaste in the bartender’s voice. “Can’t say I understand it.”
Vox looked at Aletta and laughed. “What’s to understand? They’re all soft and make the most delightful noises when you....well, you know.”
Gark had to remember that they were playing a part, and he forced himself to smile and grunt in reply and not punch Vox in the mouth.
Aletta whimpered, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching up to grip her shoulder in one hand.
He slid his thumb under the cover of her hair and rubbed a gentle circle on her skin.
She shivered, and he hoped it looked like she was scared. The better to make this work.
“I heard you had a human here.” Vox turned back to the bartender.
He shrugged, tossing a dishcloth over his shoulder. “They come and go.”
Vox pulled a credit chip from his pocket and spun it over his fingers. It was a trick Gark had seen him do many times, and it had the predictable effect on the bartender. Back and forth the chip flipped, like a magic trick he’d seen at the harvest festival when he was a child.
Aletta gasped, and Gark squeezed her shoulder gently in warning. She shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head subtly to a doorway at the far end of the bar. The curtain covering the doorway twitched back into place, but not before Gark saw a pair of terrified brown eyes.
The bartender was too interested in getting his hands on the chip to pay any attention.
Vox slapped the chip on the bar and slid it slowly toward the bartender, who looked from the chip to Vox. He slowly reached for it, but not before Vox slapped his hand down over the chip.
“The woman. Bring her out.”
The bartender licked his lips, looking from where Vox’s hand covered the chip to the curtain that twitched open slightly again. There was definitely a human woman back there, mostly hidden in the dark.
The bartender leaned forward. “They won’t let you take her.”
Vox smirked. “Let me worry about them. Bring her out, and the credits are yours.” The bartender nodded and started to turn away, but Vox’s hand shot out and grabbed his forearm. “Help us leave with her, and I’ll triple it.”
The bartender nodded, eyes wide, a greasy smile spreading over his face. He disappeared into the back behind the curtain.
Vox turned his back to the bar, leaning his elbows on the dirty surface and popping a stick of gum into his mouth.
Gark stood to one side, like the hired goon he was meant to be, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
A group of Taureans in black, sleeves ripped off their shirts to show that tattoo—the symbol of the Alliance—pushed their chairs back from one of the tables.
One of them laughed, pulling the chips in the middle toward him, while the others headed for the bar.
“Vox,” Gark said in a low voice. “We have to leave.”
Vox smiled, turning his head and nodding at one of the Alliance who pulled up a stool at the bar. Gark pulled Aletta closer to his side.
And then the bartender came out, a human woman following meekly behind him.
“That’s her,” Aletta said.
Vox slid the chip across the bar to the bartender, who quickly tucked it into a pocket. Vox held two more in his palm and raised an eyebrow. The bartender nodded, the movement of his chin barely perceptible.
“Woman!” The Taurean who had won the pile of chips bellowed across the room. “I have enough to buy you now. Come here!”
The human woman behind the bar paled, her eyes huge in her pale face. “No,” she whispered. “No. No. No. No.” She shook her head.
Vox growled, straightening from his slouch and taking on a warrior’s bearing.
“Who are they?” One of the black-clad Alliance asked.
Aletta tugged at the rope holding her hands, the knot undoing. “Do you remember me?” She asked the woman, who nodded.
“Yes. But how did you come back? None of them ever come back.” She shook her head as if in disbelief.
“Later. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Gark couldn’t agree more.
And then the lights went out.
“Quick, over the bar.” Vox’s voice reached him over the surprised shouts of the patrons.
Gark grabbed Aletta around the waist and slid over the bar, landing with a thump on the far side. A muffled squeal told him Vox had grabbed the other woman, and then they were following the bartender at a run.
He just hoped they were being led out and not into a trap.
Shouts followed them as they raced through a back room, into a dimly lit hallway, and through a solid door to enter a brightly lit, busy walkway.
The bartender held out his hand, Vox depositing the remaining credits and an extra. “For your silence.” The bartender nodded and disappeared back into the hallway.
Gark turned to see Aletta kneeling in front of the other woman, who had collapsed on the ground.
“It’s going to be ok. You never have to go back there again.”
The woman looked up, eyes wide, tears running down her face as she took shuddering breaths. “What do you want me for?”
Aletta shook her head. “Nothing. I just couldn’t leave you there.”
“But you don’t know me.”
Aletta smiled and held out her hand. “I don’t need to know you to want to help you.”
The other woman looked at her hand and then reached for it, Aletta pulling her to her feet.
“Let’s get you back to the ship.”
There was no time to talk after that. Aletta took the woman—whose name he learned was Lara—to visit Klath, while Gark readied the ship.
Arik and Jarden had handed over their captives to Oren, and, using what Lara had told them and the flight log Jarden had pulled from the captured ship, they were able to work out which direction the other women had been taken.
They didn’t yet know the final destination, but Oren had promised to contact them as soon as he’d finished interrogating the prisoners, just in case he learned something more.
Jarden plotted a course, and they left Irith’s Moons. Gark sat on the bridge for the first hour, then, realizing he would be better off getting some rest, headed back to the crew quarters.
He hadn’t seen Aletta since she’d headed off with Lara to help her settle into A’Kar’s old room, so he figured he could grab some clothes from his cupboard.
So now Gark was standing in the middle of his cabin, clean shirt in hand, not entirely sure what he would do next.
Or where he would sleep.
He had just resigned himself to taking the floor in Vox’s room once more when Aletta walked into the room.
Or, more like, sauntered into the room. Her hips swayed with every step, and she smiled saucily.
“Guess what?” She seemed unsurprised to see him there.
He swallowed, hands twisting the shirt. “What?”
“We’re alive. And I’d say that’s a cause for celebration.”
He breathed in her scent, not fighting it as he had been for days, but letting it wash over him. She smelled delicious, and he wanted to taste her. “And how do you want to celebrate?”
She slid a finger into his belt, tugging him toward her. “I can think of a thing or two.”