Marauder Read online

  He slipped into his tiny office through the hallway entrance. The cluttered space could also be accessed directly from the command center, which was his final destination. He didn’t want anyone to hear his conversation with Arton, so he sat down behind his desk and activated privacy filters. Then he pinged Arton and waited. He was about to repeat the ping when the harbinger responded, audio only.

  “I’m a little busy right now. This better be important.” Arton sounded seriously annoyed.

  Too damn bad. Rex was annoyed too. “I understand why you kidnapped Lily, but why did you take Thea? She did not volunteer to bond with anyone.”

  His low chuckle was anything but amused. “It didn’t take long for her to win you over, which only proves my decision was right.”

  “What the hells is that supposed to mean?”

  “She appeared in my dreams, you fool. I wasn’t sure why she was important, but I knew she had a place in our new world.”

  Rex tensed. He had never interacted with a harbinger before he met this one, but Arton’s predictions were frighteningly accurate. “That’s fascinating, but it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “I’d agree, except I dreamed about you too. You were claiming Thea at the time. It’s a little hard to misinterpret that. I don’t know how long it will take for you to win her over, but Thea is your mate.”

  Stunned and excited, Rex just stared off into space as the connection went dead.

  Chapter Three

  Thea pulled open an inset compartment, then muttered a curse, realizing she’d looked inside it several times before. It was official. She had searched every inch of Rex’s cabin and found nothing useful as a weapon or a means of escape.

  Escape? They were in outer space. Where the hell would she go even if she made it off the Marauder?

  She released a sigh of pure frustration, hating her helplessness. Rex had been gone for hours, or at least it felt like hours. She had no way of knowing the actual time. She didn’t speak Rodyte, so she couldn’t ask the computer, or activate any of the cabin’s systems. God this was aggravating.

  “Thea, this is Rex.” His voice came over some unseen speaker filling the room. He sounded agitated and tense, which only heightened her restlessness. “Sit down at the table against the wall. Feel around under the seat until you find the trigger for the restraints, then strap in. It’s about to get very bumpy.”

  Wasn’t space a vacuum? She didn’t think there was turbulence way out here. Still, she moved to the table with its two matching chairs, both of which were fastened to the deck. It was the only table in the room, so it wasn’t hard to find. The “trigger” on the other hand, took a few seconds. As with everything on the ship, it was inset, creating a smooth surface. The texture was slightly different, and it caused her to hesitate. The slight pressure was enough to activate the function. Wide straps emerged from the chair, spanning her lap and crisscrossing her chest.

  “Nifty,” she muttered, and then the breath was ripped from her lungs. Her eyes widened and she gripped the table, nails digging into the synthetic wood. What the hell was happening? Nothing around her changed. There were no streaks of light or colorful streamers, but the acceleration was literally painful. An oppressive weight pressed her back into the chair and threatened to rip the flesh from her bones.

  As suddenly as the staggering rush erupted, it vanished. She sat there stunned and fighting for breath.

  “It’s over,” Rex’s disembodied voice told her casually. “Touch the trigger again to release yourself from the chair.”

  If it had taken her two seconds longer to find the freaking trigger, she’d be plastered against the far wall right now. “Thanks for the warning, jackass.”

  Sarcasm dripped off each word, but he still said, “You’re welcome.”

  She rolled her eyes and released the straps, slowly moving each limb to make sure she was still in one piece. She’d spent more time on shuttles than spaceships, but she’d never experienced anything like that! Had they passed through some sort of...what? Wormhole? Stargate? She shook her head, finally relaxing enough to smile. If Rex had a Stargate, he wouldn’t need a spaceship. And if the Outcasts had a Stargate, they wouldn’t need Rex.

  Her legs felt weighted and shaky as she heaved herself out of the chair. She moved toward the exterior wall, wishing for the hundredth time that she could speak Rodyte, or Linusian, or whatever the computer acknowledged. Lily knew all sorts of commands and they were cabin mates, so Thea hadn’t bothered to learn any of the alien phrases. Despite the futility of her rebellion, she’d tried to keep herself as separated from the aliens as possible.

  The door opened and Thea spun around. “What in God’s name just happened?”

  Rex smiled as he strolled across the room. The door slid closed behind him, making the cabin feel smaller, more intimate. “Linusian ships are built for speed, not comfort. You’ll get used to it.”

  It sounded like an excuse, not an explanation, but she didn’t know enough about spaceships to continue the argument. She watched him move closer, and closer, torn between fascination and...something she wasn’t ready to identify. Yes, he was physically appealing, but so were many of the Outcasts. Why did Rex make her feel so strange, so agitated? “How often will it do that? You said I could release the straps. Is it safe to walk around?” Damn, when had she become such a whiner? This wasn’t like her at all.

  “The ship won’t lunge again until we’re ready to return.”

  Return? Return to Earth or return to the Outcast planet? Starting a fight at this point would be counterproductive. Rex was the closest thing to an ally that she had right now. “Return from where, and how long do you plan to stay there?”

  “We’re heading to LOP Six, if that means anything to you. We should arrive late tomorrow afternoon, and I’m not sure how long it will take to fill the overlord’s shopping list. Most of the stuff is straightforward, but there are a few items that could be hard to find.”

  They stood facing each other, tension mounting with each passing moment. He didn’t frighten her, but his nearness heightened her restlessness. If they weren’t going to reach their destination until tomorrow, then she’d have to spend the night in this cabin, alone with him. She swallowed hard, torn between mistrust and something warm and tingly, like anticipation or—she refused to call it arousal.

  “Is LOP an acronym?” Better to stay focused on gathering facts, assessing the situation.

  He nodded, the decorated braids swinging forward with the motion of his head. “Linusian Outpost. This is the sixth of nine.”

  He moved even closer and she automatically stepped back. The cool surface of the bulkhead reminded her that there was nowhere to run, no way to escape him if he chose to...to what? He’d been polite and helpful, almost suspiciously courteous. “Do you have contacts on LOP Six?”

  “Among other things.” One corner of his mouth lifted, hinting at meanings he wasn’t willing to share.

  “Did you find a com-bots injector?”

  His smile vanished. “Damn it. I knew I was forgetting something. I’ll check before we leave the ship tomorrow. I promise.”

  She nodded. Feeling out of breath and scattered. Why did this happen whenever he was around? She’d always been comfortable with human males, actually had more male friends than female. “Is this our only destination, or do I have a choice of possible locations.”

  Pressing one hand to the bulkhead, he studied her silently for a long time. His gaze drifted downward, the golden rings shimmering. Was he looking at her mouth? If he was going to kiss her, why didn’t he just kiss her?

  The thought was jarring. Did she want him to kiss her?

  Before she could decide one way or the other, his gaze narrowed and returned to hers. “Do you have any idea what it costs to charter a transport to another planet? Especially one as remote as Earth?”

  Sucking in a quick breath, she called upon a lifetime of stubbornness to make her seem strong. “It doesn’t mat
ter. I’ll earn whatever it costs, no matter how long it takes.”

  “That’s a noble goal. It’s also naïve, even ignorant. Earth has no trade with other worlds. Humans only recently established contact with other species. There is no financial incentive for anyone to go there.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Not everything in the universe needs a financial incentive.”

  His brows arched. “Do you honestly think some stranger is going to take you all the way to Earth out of the kindness of their heart?”

  She’d been hoping he would, but that was obviously not his intention. Squaring her shoulders, she gave herself a firm mental shake. She didn’t need a man to rescue her. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “What choice do I have? I couldn’t stay with the Outcasts. What they want from me is simply impossible.” The annoying catch in her tone revealed weakness, which ticked her off. Still, there wasn’t much she could do about it now. She wasn’t sure if he understood why she found the Outcast proposal so intolerable or not. He’d seemed to know when she mentioned LA earlier. She shook away the speculation. It didn’t matter. She certainly wasn’t going to volunteer the details now. Her past was none of his business.

  He pushed off the bulkhead and meandered around the room. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who found it easier to think while they were in motion. “I don’t know about you, but I like to have as much information as possible when I make important decisions.”

  It was a not so subtle way of pointing out that she’d rushed into this blind. “I do too.” She managed to only sound mildly defensive.

  “All right, then let me spell it out for you. It will cost between ninety and one hundred twenty thousand standard credits to travel to Earth and back.”

  “I only need a one-way ticket,” she objected.

  “But whoever takes you will doubtlessly charge you for their return. As I said, there is nothing worth trading on Earth.”

  “Except human females,” she muttered bitterly.

  He smiled patiently, undeterred by her attitude. “And that’s not including whatever they tack on as a desperation tax. Some will take one look at you and triple the actual price.”

  She squared her shoulders and tried not to look as annoyed as she felt. Why did he insist on being logical about this? She’d let instinct and emotion guide every decision she’d made since the LA Massacre.

  And look where that has gotten you. Lily’s voice echoed in her mind, followed by an inescapable surge of guilt. They’d grown close in the weeks since they were taken from Earth. It felt really disloyal to be making these plans without her. Lily hadn’t been any happier about being kidnapped than Thea.

  She pushed aside the disquieting thoughts and refocused on the conversation. “How much can someone make as a waitress or retail clerk?” He was right. She needed to know what it would take to make this happen.

  “If a server in one of the taverns is willing to flirt and show a little skin, they can make forty to sixty thousand credits a year. She’d have to put up with a lot of groping and unwanted propositions, but the money’s not bad. Now if she was willing to offer more than drinks, she could—”

  “I’m not, so it’s irrelevant.” Dread dropped into her stomach cold and heavy. “It would take between two and three years for me to earn enough...” The reality was so demoralizing, she couldn’t finish the sentence. It cost at least a thousand bucks to fly from New York to London, and that was on a commercial airline. She would need a private charter. Why had she thought this was attainable?

  “Sweetheart, it would take much longer than that. Fifty thousand would be your wage, not what you’re able to save. You’d need to pay all of your expenses first and LOP Six isn’t cheap.”

  She shook her head in denial, but she knew he was right. There would be rent and food, clothing and maybe taxes. And that was if she didn’t get sick or sprain an ankle and not be able to work for a month or more. She closed her eyes against the rush of frustration. Why did life have to be so unforgiving? She shook away the self-pity. Negativity never accomplished anything.

  But a tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered, You should have stayed on the Outcast planet and refused to bond with anyone. At least there you had food and shelter—and other humans. On LOP Six, or any of these outposts, she’d be a stranger surrounded by aliens. No, she would be the alien.

  “Can I ask a question without totally pissing you off?” he asked after a long pause.

  Unlike most of the Outcasts, his speech was peppered with American slang. It made it easier to forget he wasn’t human, which was dangerous in her opinion. Without the insulation of her resentment, she found him likeable, even charming. She didn’t want to forget he was one of them.

  “I won’t know until I hear the question,” she told him.

  He nodded once, acknowledging her statement. “I was under the impression that there was nothing left for you on Earth. Why are you so determined to return?”

  She just stared at him as waves of emotion rolled through her. He was right and yet he was horribly wrong. Her husband’s final resting place was on Earth. Every memory they’d made together had taken place on Earth. That was where she’d fallen in love, gotten married, and started a family. Her house might be a pile of rubble, but that was where her children played, where they laughed and cried, lived...and died.

  Grief surged to the surface, filling her aching emptiness with brutal intensity. Everyone was dead, her husband and kids, her mother, and an aunt. They were all gone now, wiped out in an instant by an overzealous madman who’d been trying to drive away the invaders. Her anger and the surreal nature of being kidnapped by aliens had momentarily muted her sorrow. It was back with a vengeance.

  Her chest ached and her stomach cramped, yet her eyes remained dry. She was beyond tears, had been for weeks. She felt so lost, so desolate that it gradually became another form of numbness, a darker, bleaker form, but she still felt only a gaping abyss where her heart should be.

  “I’m sorry,” Rex said, moving toward her. She warned him off with an upraised hand. If he touched her, she’d shatter. It had been weeks since she lost control and she’d be damned if Rex Dravon would make her do so now. “That was horribly insensitive. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  The cunning gleam in his eyes said otherwise. She wasn’t sure why, but he wanted her to think about all she’d lost, the happiness she would never know again. Her chest began to burn and she sucked in a breath, forcing the air past the tightness in her throat. He watched her closely, easily within reach, but honoring her need for distance.

  “Am I free to leave the ship as soon as we arrive?” she asked once her emotions subsided enough to allow speech. She wasn’t sure why she cared. She had nowhere else to go.

  “Of course. You’re not my prisoner.”

  “No, but thanks to Arton, I’m not really free either.” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin. “I’m a realist. I try hard not to lie to myself. The only way I’m getting home is if you feel bad enough about my situation to return me to Earth, or if Kage Razel orders one of his men to take me home. We both know that will never happen, so I’m left at your mercy.”

  “It’s not a matter of mercy. It’s a matter of time and money.”

  She would never make enough money to reimburse him and they both knew it, so she didn’t bother making the offer. If he agreed to a trip back to Earth, not only would he lose time and fuel. He would need to pay his crew. It was way more than anyone should expect from a stranger.

  He reached out and lightly touched her arm. “Let me get through this mission and then we’ll decide what to do about you.”

  Tingles streaked up her arm and she inhaled sharply. “And Lily,” she reminded, feeling guilty for not making her friend a more prominent part of the conversation.

  “And Lily,” he agreed with a faint smile. He lowered his arm, depriving her of his touch. Then he motioned to the cabin’s
main door. “My head of security is extremely curious about humans, so I invited him to share our evening meal. If you’re not comfortable meeting him, I can tell him not to come.”

  She glanced at the small square table against the far wall. It would be cozy but doable. “I welcome the distraction.” And the chaperone, she added with an inward smile.

  KAGE STRODE INTO THE war room aboard the Viper and activated privacy protocols before accepting the holo-com from Xorran. The tracker had only been gone a few hours. Kage hadn’t expected him to report back this quickly. Xorran’s quarter-size image appeared in the center of the planning table. His rugged features were tense. He looked rather stunned.

  “Report,” Kage prompted when Xorran continued to struggle for words.

  “I was following the Marauder as instructed when it just...” He shook his head, eyes wide with disbelief. “Some sort of portal opened in front of them and they just disappeared.”

  Kage struggled not to roll his eyes. “You’ve never seen a ship engage its hyperdrive before?”

  Impatience flashed in Xorran’s gaze as he insisted, “This was completely different than our hyperspace drives. The ship didn’t suddenly speed up. It looked like it just flew right through the fabric of space. I’ve never seen anything like it. Wherever they emerged, must be very far from here. I can no longer sense any of them and I had locked on to Rex. He shouldn’t have been able to outdistance me. That has never happened before either.”

  Kage tapped his thumb against the tabletop, his mind whirring with possibilities. “It’s been the night for mysteries.” Xorran didn’t ask what he meant, so Kage said, “There’s no telling when or where the Marauder will ‘emerge’ from this mystery portal, so head over to the Relentless. Torak is hunting another mystery and could use your talents.”

  “What sort of mystery? If I may be so bold as to ask.”

  Kage chuckled. You could take the soldier out of the military, but there was no taking the military out of most soldiers. “I won’t drag you in front of a tribunal for asking a question, Xorran. Relax.”