Captive of Pleasure; the Space Pirate's Woman (The LodeStar Series) (44 page)

She rolled her eyes at him and then laughed. “Me too. Let’s do this.”

“Just remember, this isn’t us against the IGSF and the citizens. It’s us against the slavers. And Cerul. That’s the way we planned it and the way it’s gonna go down.”
 

She nodded. As she walked away, Haro jogged to meet her. Joran watched with shock and then pleasure as the man caught Qala in his arms and laid a long, deep kiss on her, which she returned.
 

“You be careful,” Haro said to her, his expression fierce. “You get me? I’m not losin’ you now. Got a lot of time to make up for.”

She lifted a hand to Haro’s face. “You too. You’re annoying, but you’ve grown on me. Like a fungus, I guess.”

Joran turned away, leaving the pair to their weird but amusing version of love talk.
 

Now, in between battling slavers, Cerul and anyone else who got in his way, he just had to find time to make things right with Zaë. Because he wasn’t losing her either. Not now, not for a long time to come.

Chapter 26

Zaë liked the Hawk. Joran’s craft was beautiful, and surprisingly comfortable for the small space inside. The interior was all in shades of gray and silver, rather like his eyes. She liked the comfortable leather seats, the way the portholes in the main cabin, although small on the inside, gave a fish eye view of what lay outside, and the way every centimeter of space was used, for storage or communication.
 

She also—reluctantly—admired the way Joran strode on board, swept her with a look to see that she was strapped in and safe, before moving ahead through the narrow galley to the front cabin where she could, from her seat, glimpse consoles alight with gleaming colors and shapes, all mysterious, all state of the art.
 

She especially liked that this time, she was not aboard as a terrified, shattered woman, but one who had been invited—okay, ordered, but in the Storm’s limited alpha male vocabulary he probably considered that the same—and she was here because he wanted her safe.
 

She had a change of clothing, she had an insulated carrier with some supper, and she had the mawwr, quietly deposited in the sleeping cabin, where she hoped it wouldn’t make a mess. Ringi had informed her the mawwrs traveled on the transport with the catas, but Zaë was afraid if she left hers now, she might never see it again.
 

She was secretly very excited to be going along on an adventure with the Storm and his crew. Not that she was going to let him know that, because she was very angry with him. No, she was furious.

And soon she was going to make sure she had time to give him a piece of her mind. Having sex with him might be planet-quaking and orgasmic, but that didn’t mean it made her lose her intelligence. He had lied to her, or at least withheld information. He’d believed her to be engaged, and he’d still had sex with her? That was indeed the act of a pirate.

And then he’d given her
that look
in front of everyone, and spoken to her as if what they’d shared hadn’t meant much at all. She didn’t care if he was a pirate, he didn’t get to behave that way. And so she would tell him, over and over if necessary until it sunk into his hard head. Because she was not giving up on him.

On this thought, her gaze cut to the man sitting near her. David Woodby. A face from her past for whom she was rapidly recalling, she had never felt more than casual friendship, ruined by increasing irritation as he pressed his attentions on her. He may have believed they were engaged, or about to become so, but she would never have agreed to marry this man.

“Elle,” Woodby said, leaning over from his own seat, his gaze darting from her to the back of Joran’s head in the pilot’s seat. “I don’t understand why we’re aboard this craft, and not back on my rented one, headed for F City? This is—”

“David.” She held up her hand for silence. “This is my business, not yours. You are only here because you know me, and thus the Storm is willing to protect you.”

He looked at her with distaste. “You interrupted me. As I was saying, we should be on our way back to F City. Your parents are frantic, as I’m sure you can imagine. And here you are, flitting about with these—these pirates.”

She’d never liked him
at all
, Zaë realized with a shock. What a coward she’d been to let him bully her into even considering marriage. She’d be polite now as possible, but she was not going to listen to him denigrate Joran or his people.
 

“David, I will be on my way back to F City when I’m ready. Right now, we’re on an important mission. If you don’t like that...” she shrugged. “I’m sorry, but your opinion of our activities doesn’t really matter.

His face reddened, and his eyes narrowed. “I’ve spent a great deal of my credit chasing after you, miss, so I don’t appreciate your ingratitude. And I have your parents’ approval, so you’d best behave with a bit more decorum. Then perhaps I’ll forgive you.”

She gaped at him. “You’ll forgive me?” she repeated.

He nodded stiffly.
 

“You’ll forgive me?” she repeated, her blood beginning to boil. He was the second male to speak to her today as if she was a fool, and she had had it up to
there
!

“David, in the past month, I have been kidnapped, drugged out of my mind, starved, left to suffer extreme cold and heat, been beaten and threatened with rape and worse, and then sold like an animal. The only reason I am still alive and whole is because of the man who owns this cruiser. You had nothing to do with any of that.”

At this, his gaze flickered, but she was too upset to care.

“So please explain,” she went on. What I have done to beg your pardon for?”

He snorted. “You’ve clearly fallen into that pirate’s arms and his bed. You just said ‘our activities’ as if you are one of these people. How do you think that makes me feel, when I waited and worried alongside your parents, not knowing if you were dead or alive?”

The mention of her parents hurt. Because she did care what they thought of her. What if they were dismayed that she’d been with Joran Stark?

“Oh, you’re not going to listen to me,” she realized. Unable to bear looking at his smug face any longer, Zaë turned away from him to gaze out the porthole.

She blinked, and looked with astonishment at the place where the camp had been. It was gone. In the place of the tonts were strange oblong crates on the flattened grass, and even now they were being hoisted into an open transport. The catas were gone, and so were all the various vehicles that had been moored around the perimeter.

The air over the camp was full of activity, with armed fighters hovering over the transport, and cruisers sailing off into the distance, surrounded by a phalanx of smaller craft.
 

Her heart leapt. The Khadim were on the move, and she was going with them.
 

She unbuckled her belt and keyed her comlink. “Joran, may I please sit up front with you?”
 

“You through bitching out Woodby?” he asked, his voice in her ear amused.

She winced at this reminder that he and Qala had heard every word of their conversation, then lifted her chin. “Yes. I believe so.”

“Come on up. Won’t be for long, but you can look around.”

She rose with alacrity.

“My rental cruiser,” David yelled behind her. “They’re leaving it behind. Make someone go back for it. I’ll be liable for that.”

“David?” Zaë advised, “suck it up!” She hurried forward into the cockpit.
 

Qala sat in the copilot’s seat. For once, she gave Zaë a friendly nod, then went back to watching her instruments.
 

Joran gave Zaë a gleaming look over his shoulder. “Strap into that jumpseat, my lady.”

She slipped into the compact seat, eyeing the controls with fascination. “Is there where you shoot at things?”

“Mostly at other craft, not ‘things’. But, yeah, those are weapons controls, so don’t touch anything.”

“Oh, all right.” She clasped her hands firmly in her lap. “Where are we going?”

“North, to a little rendezvous. In the mountains. You ever been up there?”

“I don’t think so. I believe this is my first visit to Frontiera.”

He grunted, and then spoke quietly to someone else. “We’re all up and on the move. Draz will move the camp west. We should reach Bone Arch in less than an hour, then we’re in the hot zone. Masterson, you on the way?”

A small holovid sprang to life above the windshield. “Here,” said a man with hard, cool hazel eyes. “We’re headed to the mountain. Just civilian businessfolk stopping by to have a look at the satcom installation, anyone asks. My men are in place, inside my warehouses.”
 

Another holovid, this one a man so blocky he looked to be made of stone, his dark eyes the only thing active in his face. He wore the biggest comlink Zaë had yet seen, and another piece floated near his face. “Berenson here,” he identified himself. “Surveillance on the area. All quiet at the IGSF base. The usual patrols out.”

Ilya appeared beside him, her mop of braids in contrast to the fire in her gaze. “Eyes on you, boss. You have pursuit, all five of the slavers, plus the epaulets from the amber lake camp. They’re hanging back, waiting.”

“Good,” Joran said. “They’ll be sending word to base, letting them know. Haro?”

Haro’s shaggy head appeared, and he gave a smile and wink to the woman in the co-pilot’s seat. She frowned reprovingly. Zaë watched this byplay with fascination.

“Ready. I’ll wait to liaise with the epaulets till you’re in place.”

“All right.” Joran spoke to the group, his voice crisp. “The auction ring’s been set up, and all the pieces are in place. All we have to do is draw everyone together and our little party can begin.”

“You’re waiting till nightfall, I presume?” Masterson drawled. His gaze arrowed to Zae and paused, his eyes narrowing. She blinked—whoa. What an intense man.

Joran moved, leaning sideways so that her view of the holovid was blocked—and so was Masterson’s view of her. What was that all about, she wondered?

“Yes, we wait until dark,” Joran agreed. “Gives an extra element of confusion, I always think.”

“Nothing like nature on your side,” agreed the man with a ghost of a smile. “Of course it also allows the enemy to slink away unseen.”

“Can’t believe you’re doing this in Bone Arch,” a new voice boomed.
 

Zaë started as a new holovid appeared. Now
he
looked like a pirate. His head filled his tiny vid, his broad, angular face surrounded with a mane of wild, pale blond hair that had been partially tamed into braids, the lower half his face covered with a short beard and mustache. He grinned and waggled his brows at her. She smiled back. “Right in the IGSF’s fuckin’ back yard! You got any closer to the satcom installation, you’d be in their pockets.”

“That’s the beauty of it, Steele,” Joran agreed. “No one pays any attention to Bone Arch, it’s just a ghost town from the old bad days, when pirates holed up there.”

“Those were the days. Kinda miss ‘em, tell truth. This shindig is more like it—my kinda party!”

 
Joran held up one hand, listening. “I have a link from our special guests. Back to you later.”

The holovids disappeared, and Joran shot a look back at Zaë. “Back to the main cabin with you. And put on some warm clothes, you’re gonna need ‘em. There are flight suits in the sleeping cabin.”

She obeyed, although not without disappointment. Her mind was reeling with what she’d gleaned from the cryptic communications between Joran and the others. They were enroute to a very important meeting of some kind. Hush-hush and illicit. And certain participants were pretending to be on innocent errands, when in fact they were involved.

She passed through the cabin, where David Woodby was closing a comlink, a smug look on his face. “I’ve just—” he began.
 

Zaë walked past him. “Wait, where are you going?” he demanded. “I have important news.”

“Hold the thought, David.”

She shut herself in the sleeping cabin, mostly taken up by a bed with a silver comforter. Her bag lay on the end. Opening it, she pulled out the long sleeved tunic and leggings, and changed into them, then opened cubbies until she found a warm coat and pair of gloves, and a pair of tall boots that were only a little too big. Outside, she could see rugged mountains ranging to the horizon, where the sun was going down.
 

She used the lav, then carried her wraps back to her seat in the main cabin.
 

David was scowling at her. “As I was saying, I’ve just spoken with your parents.”

She stared at him, her surroundings forgotten. The coat slid to the carpet and her gloves followed, landing softly. “My parents?” she whispered. She lifted one hand to her heart. “Oh, they must be so—were they happy?”

“Of course,” he said. “Very happy. They want to see you at once.”

“Oh, my.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Perhaps we can meet in the morning.” She felt a guilty relief at not having time to link them back now. She was anxious to see them, but once she was with them, her old life would reach out and envelope her—and Joran Stark might have no interest in being part of it.