Virgin (7 page)

Dax didn’t understand why her scent would have affected him if she wasn’t interested, though her mixed blood might have been responsible. Perhaps all Aquerei/Terran women smelled like that. Dax had no way of knowing.

Dax knew he wouldn’t sleep, but he wasn’t getting any work done anyway, so he went to his quarters. He wasn’t even through the door when he focused on the fact that Ava was right there on the other side of the wall—probably already asleep—lying beneath blankets that would bring out the blue in her eyes the moment she opened them. Dax didn’t share Trag’s aversion to blue. He liked blue very much. Aqua was even better.

As Dax lay down on his bed, his thoughts took another turn. With Ava, he might actually have the chance to be part of a family again. He’d lost his own so long ago, he could barely recall the day that Tarq had found him, alone and crying in the war-torn streets of their doomed homeworld. Tarq had never been able to explain how he’d managed to find Amelyana’s ship, though Dax suspected that he’d been led by a vision—which was not uncommon among Zetithians. That the wife of their nemesis would try to save them was something Tarq hadn’t known; he only knew that a safe haven awaited them at the end of their journey.

They’d grown up on a fugitive ship, doing all they could to keep their existence a secret in a galaxy where no one could be trusted. Tarq had been like an older brother to him, but while Dax had thrown himself into his studies, Tarq and the other boys had used every opportunity to practice the fine art of enticing Zetithian females. Too serious and abrupt, Dax had never been popular with his female shipmates, and with the boys outnumbering the girls four to one, the ladies could afford to be choosy.

As a boy, Dax had never understood why so few of the refugees were female, but Amelyana had known how picky Zetithian women could be and just how irresistible the men were to females of other species—her own human race being more susceptible than any other. Rescuing more males than females made sense in other ways, as well. Men could father thousands of offspring, but a female could only give birth to a limited number.

After the liberation, he and Tarq had gone their separate ways; Dax opting to roam the galaxy, while Tarq had chosen to remain in the Zetithian colony on Terra Minor, undecided as to his future.

The fact that very few women had ever aroused him caused Dax to doubt the possibility of his ever having a family altogether. But Ava had changed all that, allowing him a faint glimmer of hope. If only he could change her mind…

***

Ava wasn’t sleeping either. Her mind had drifted, taking her to a place where, submerged in deep blue water, her head broke through the surface to find Dax waiting for her in the shallows. Droplets of water sparkled on his bare skin, calling attention to every muscle and contour of his body. He was stunningly made, every part of him designed to entice a woman—whether she wanted to be enticed or not. As he waded toward her, his eyes began to glow with desire, and she could hear him purring. She swam into his arms, wrapping her body around his and drawing him inside her. With a low growl, he unleashed the fire of his passion, driving himself in deeper, plumbing the depths of her core in a way no other lover had ever done. Her head fell back as she cried out in rapture, her hands clutching his shoulders as she begged him for more.

And he gave it to her. His mouth came down on hers, devouring her lips, delving inside with his hot tongue while he purred deep within his chest. Breaking the kiss, he went for her throat, licking a fiery path up her neck and back to her lips, whispering words of love and nipping at her skin with his pearly fangs. Ava felt her orgasm building, reaching previous heights, and then going far beyond. His breaths shortened as his own pinnacle was attained, and then she felt a rush of heat and pleasure so exquisite, it brought tears to her eyes.

Stunned, Ava gazed out at the stars as they slid past her window. No fantasy had ever seemed so real. If it had been a dream, she might have understood, but though the aftershocks reverberated throughout her being, she knew that Dax wasn’t with her—probably would never be—and her tears of rapture became droplets of sadness and regret.

***

Lars cast a cursory glance at the doorway as a trio of Aquerei men walked into the bar, immediately making him wish he’d stayed home. He’d never seen this bunch before, but even through the fumes of alcohol he could tell they were looking for him. Having dealt with their kind before, he didn’t bother trying to run. One touch from the hairlike tentacles that sprouted from their heads could numb you, and with their iridescent greenish-gold skin and sinister, sloping cheekbones, the mere sight of them was nearly enough to turn a man to stone.

The leader of the group, a tall, elderly man with purple tentacles, approached and said without preamble, “Where is she?”

Lars didn’t have to ask who the man was referring to. “Gone,” he replied, avoiding the Aquerei’s harsh round-eyed glare. “You’re too late. A damned Zetithian seduced her right out of here several days ago.”

His tentacles sparking with electricity, the man leaned closer to Lars. No doubt about it, the guy was pissed. “Perhaps you didn’t understand what was at stake by letting her leave this world before we sent for her.”

Lars rolled his eyes. “C’mon, man. I may not be very smart, but what part of ‘it’s worth more than your life’ wouldn’t I understand?” He took another swig of his beer. If these guys were intending to kill him, he might as well finish it. “That pretty cat-boy probably gave her a taste of his dick, and that was that. I don’t care what drugs you use, nobody can beat out one of those guys when it comes to a woman. Nobody.”

“And did you actually
use
the drugs?”

“Did ’til I ran out of them,” Lars said with a sardonic laugh. “What the hell did you expect me to do when you creeps dumped me here and then conveniently forgot to pay me again? Did you think the money would last forever? Or did you think I could win her over with my potent male charm?”

“Never that,” the Aquerei sneered. “Why Sliv hired you to begin with is beyond me.”

“He was desperate, and I was available,” Lars said bluntly. “And I didn’t do such a bad job. He knew I wasn’t her type, but Russ had had enough of the deal. I don’t blame him for wanting to be rid of her. She’s a real pain in the ass.”

The orange-tentacled Aquerei snorted derisively. “The way I heard it, she was more of a headache.”

Lars couldn’t argue that point and let it drop. “So where is Sliv, anyway?”

“Dead—like you’re going to be if you don’t tell us where she is.”

Though the man seemed anxious to make good on his threat, Lars chose to ignore it. “That’s what I told Ava—didn’t know for sure, but figured he must be, or I’d have heard from him before now.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Look, if you’re gonna kill me anyway, just shut the fuck up and do it. I’m sick of your shit.”

“Tell us where she went, and we might let you live.”

Lars began chuckling uncontrollably. “Guess I’m a dead man then—and as you know, dead men don’t talk.”

The elder Aquerei was hissing now. He was so close that Lars could almost feel the sting of his tentacles. “Where
is
she?”

“I don’t know,” Lars insisted. “She said she was going to Aquerei to find her father, but she could have been lying. Like I said, the guy was a Zetithian. Once he got hold of her, she probably forgot all about trying to find her old man. I chased them down to the whoring district, and then they stunned me. Where they went after that is anyone’s guess.”

“There aren’t many Zetithians left, Eantle,” their green-haired cohort murmured. “Shouldn’t be too hard to narrow it down.”

Eantle nodded. Focusing his attention on Lars once more, he went on. “Was he alone? Do you have a name—a description, perhaps?”

“Ask the bartender,” Lars said with a shrug. “He might know him. I’d never seen him before. Tall guy—and I mean
really
tall—with black dreadlocks and a flame tattoo up the side of his face and neck. Had a Norludian with him—and he seemed to know Jack Tshevnoe pretty well.”

Eantle’s tentacles stopped crackling and fell into a smooth wave. Lars’s next thought was that he might not die after all. “We’ll find them.”

Some particle of affection for Ava surfaced briefly. “Hey… when you do find her, what will you do with her?”

“Why, make her our queen, of course,” Eantle said with a smile. “After all, we’re the good guys—didn’t you know?”

Lars sucked in a ragged breath as the trio turned and left as quickly as they’d come. “Sure couldn’t prove it by me,” he muttered to himself. He drained the last of his beer and waved at the waitress; he thought her name was Lrantee or something like that. “I’ll have another.”

Lrantee grinned and waved back at him. Her colorful dress swept the floor as she walked back to the tap. Lars liked the way she moved, and she wasn’t bad-looking either—for a Twilanan. Plenty of people thought they were hideous, but Lars found something oddly appealing about the tusk on the end of her snout.

Chapter 5

Having spent the previous night fantasizing about Dax, Ava found it difficult to face her shipmates the next morning. She wanted to breakfast alone even less. Kots would have brought it to her in her room—she had only to ask—but when the summons came over the ship’s comsystem, she obeyed. Of course, the fact that is was Dax’s voice might have had something to do with it.

Probably a recorded message—not actually him speaking to her from out of nowhere—but she responded to it as though he had personally requested her presence; instinctively, automatically, and without any thought whatsoever.

“What
is
it about him?” she muttered as she reluctantly removed the lovely blue gown. Opening the closet, she let out a startled gasp.

There was only one outfit hanging there. It would probably fit her perfectly, but it wasn’t hers. Every article of clothing she possessed had disappeared, as if by magic. She remembered what Dax had said about knowing a magician and wondered if that person just happened to be aboard the ship, hidden somewhere apart from the others, working his or her sorcery on the rest of them.

Whoever that magician was, they didn’t know anything about her taste in clothes. The clingy, hip-length tunic was feminine and romantic, and its pastel aquamarine color a far cry from her usual grays and forest greens. The only colorful clothing she possessed was the red shirt her waitressing job required, and it, too, was gone. She suspected that Kots, rather than any magician, was responsible. He must have hovered in silently during the night and made the switch. But why? What did he care about her wardrobe?

Dax certainly wouldn’t have ordered it. A man who wasn’t interested in women wouldn’t bother to tell the droid to give her something different to wear, would he?

The answer came without any further bidding: Waroun. It must be his doing, not Dax’s. Dax wouldn’t give a damn. Waroun was another story.

Chuckling softly, Ava shook her head and donned the tunic along with the black tights hanging next to it. Her shoes were also missing; in their stead sat a pair of satin slippers that matched the tunic. Also a perfect fit. After a quick glance in the mirror, she left the room and followed the discreetly flashing arrows along the corridor to the dining hall.

Upon her arrival, she began to suspect that the ship itself, and therefore the droid that served it, was responsible for her new look, rather than its crew. No ship as luxurious as the
Valorcry
would allow a sloppily dressed girl to breakfast in such a room. Soft music played while crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. The tables were draped with snowy cloths set with crystal, china, and utensils with the unmistakable gleam of pure silver.

Ava wasn’t sure how it was possible, but even the two Kitnocks looked as if they belonged there, and Quinn was quite dazzling—for a Drell. His hair, which was now a few shades lighter, cascaded to his feet in shiny waves that drew the eye rather than repulsed it. Waroun and Dax, on the other hand, looked pretty much the same.

Seeing that they were all seated at the same round table, Ava took the only available place, which just happened to be between Dax and Waroun. It was either sit there or be terribly rude and choose another table altogether.

“I see Kots has been working on you too,” Waroun remarked. “It’s always interesting to see what he thinks our guests should wear while they’re aboard. I approve of his choice.”

While this answered at least two of her questions, Ava wasn’t sure she cared whether Waroun approved or not. Somehow having him
disapprove
might have been best.

Dax didn’t voice any opinion whatsoever. “Don’t worry, Kots will give your things back to you when you get to Rutara. He likes to make sure all of our passengers comply with his own version of the dress code. Everyone usually gets a kick out of it.”

Ava wasn’t sure “kick” was the right word. “It’s okay,” she said, staring down at her lap as she placed her napkin there. She was finding it difficult to sit next to him after the fantasy she’d had the night before. The fact that she could feel his body heat through the thin fabric of her tunic was bad enough. Gazing into his eyes was out of the question.