Taken (Calliston Series - Book 1) (4 page)

"Why would you need…ah," Viktor said. She intended to stay here, with him. His eyes flicked toward Harom, and he hoped that her babysitter would also be joining them. He didn't want to suffer the consequences of being alone with S'rea.

The door chimed and three sets of eyes turned to it.

"Harom," S'rea said. Her quiet escort walked to the door, which opened at his presence.

The commanding officer of the vessel looked up into the unblinking eyes of Harom before he tried to look around him. "Viktor. Do you need a medic?" he called.

"You're a funny man, Roger," Viktor said as he got to his feet. "I'm fine."

S'rea joined them at the door. "We were just leaving, colonel," she said. "You may keep him company while I am gone."

"Thank you, ma'am," Roger said. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Viktor.

"My bodyguard," Viktor explained. "The Lyrissians are afraid I'll be the next target."

S'rea turned in the corridor and called back to Viktor. "One last question, U-man. What was that on your chest, earlier?"

Viktor placed a hand over his chest and wondered what she meant. He didn't have any other tattoos. There wasn't anything on his chest except for his…
 

"Chest hair," he said.

"And do you place shaving gel on that as well?"

"No!" he said, and stepped back from the door so it could close.

"Interesting," S'rea murmured.

Viktor turned a glare on Roger, who was doing his best not to laugh. "You can shut up," he warned the colonel.

"What I want to know," Roger said when he was able to speak, "was how she saw your chest hair."

Viktor went to a cabinet and pulled out a decanter. He sloshed some alcohol into two glasses and thrust one at his guest. "I'd just got out of the shower when she turned up. I thought it was you. I was wearing a towel."

Roger guffawed and sighed loudly. "Did she find the U-man male repulsive?"
 

"If she did, she didn't say," said Viktor. He took a sip of his drink and replayed answering the door in his mind. She had touched him. It hadn't been sensual, more answering a curiosity. He supposed it was the scientist in her. "She didn't look repulsed."

"Hard to tell with that veil," said Roger. "Is it cultural?"

Viktor shrugged.

"A lot of scuttlebutt going around about it," Roger said as he dropped onto the sofa. "Walked in on my senior staff placing bets on whether it's 'cause she's either hideously deformed or so beautiful anyone looking upon her would lose all sanity." He shook his head.

"What do you think?" asked Viktor.

"I put my money on insanely beautiful," said Roger.

"That was nice of you."

Roger shrugged. "Bigger payout if I'm right. Going by how ugly the males are, though, I'll probably have to cut my losses."

"She has expressive eyes," Viktor said.

"Hmm," Roger agreed. "A good height too."

"Curves."

"I don't know how you can see them through those damned sacks she wears," Roger muttered.

"Certain angles," said Viktor. "Not that I'm looking."

"Course not," Roger said, and hid a grin behind his glass. "Tell me, Viktor, ever been attracted to an alien?"

"Got drunk with a Duarr once."

"How'd that go?"

Viktor shrugged. "All I know is the next morning, when I woke up, I was sore in places I'd never been sore before."

Roger snorted with laughter.

"You?" Viktor asked.

Roger smiled slightly at a memory. "Once. When I was a young man."

"Years ago when elephants still walked the earth?" Viktor teased.

"Respect your elders, child," said Roger. "I had a crush on a lovely Targan girl. We worked together at the refugee camp."

"What happened?"
 

Roger's eyes narrowed and he looked away. "Before what would have been our first date, she was killed. Her death sparked the race riots on Atlas IV of seventy-seven."

"I'm sorry."

"She's the reason I joined the Corps."

Viktor studied his friend. The older man, who usually looked much younger, seemed to age before him.

"Women," Roger said suddenly.

"What about them?"

"They affect the course of our lives more than we'd like to admit."

"I can drink to that," Viktor said, and got up to refill their glasses.

* * *

S'rea entered Viktor's quarters. She flared her nostrils and frowned at the inebriated U-man who swayed slightly in front of her.

"Colonel," she said curtly.

"You hath the prettiest eyes," he told her before he stumbled out the door and straight into Harom, who carried their combined belongings. Harom set the colonel back onto his feet before following S'rea into the room.

Viktor was nowhere in sight. "U-man," she called out. When he did not respond, she searched his living area for him. His bedroom was equally empty of him and any personal belongings. She hesitated at the door to the bathroom, but decided to press on. She raised her hand to knock when the door slid open. Her eyes widened in shock at the current state of the peacetalker. He was fully clothed yet soaked from head to toe.

"Evening," he said, and brushed past her to his bedroom. The door closed behind him and a few minutes later he returned, wearing dry clothes. He rubbed his shaggy hair with a towel and asked, "Did Roger leave okay?"

S'rea nodded. "I was not gone long. What happened?" she asked.

"Alcohol happened."

"Why did you soak yourself?" she asked.

"Sobering up," he said. "That your stuff?"

"Yes. Those are my belongings, along with Harom's. We are still a few days from Lyrissia so we will remain with you until we arrive."

"I suppose you'll want the bed," he said.

S'rea tilted her head to see him at a different angle. His responses concerned her. She supposed the alcohol was the reason, but she wondered what else had happened while she had been away. "Where would you sleep?"
 

"Sofa," he said, and pointed to the piece of furniture.

She shook her head. "I will sleep on the sofa. You will sleep on the bed. That way the assassin will have to go through me to get to his target."

It was Viktor's turn to shake his head. "This is insane. I can't let you do this. What if something happens to you? I'm pretty sure your father would kill me."

"Nothing will happen to me."

"And how can you be sure of that?" he asked, hands planted on hips.

"Because I am a Lyrissian female," S'rea said. She saw the dubious slant of his annoying eyebrow and added, "Harom will be sleeping in front of the door."

Viktor turned to the large but silent Lyrissian and nodded. "As long as it's the main door then I can live with that."

Harom nodded.

S'rea hoped that he would—live, that was. "I require bedding," she informed him, and watched as he grumbled all the way to his bedroom, pulled a cover off his bed, came back and gave it to her. "Thank you."

"Good night," he said, and left them alone.

S'rea sighed. "This may be a long night, Harom."

* * *

A crash from the other room woke Viktor. He struggled to get free of his sheets and ended up on the floor. Viktor swore and reached for his weapon. He passed over the pulse blaster that Roger had given him in favor of the weapon he was more familiar with.

The door opened at Viktor's approach and he cautiously looked around the edge. With the lights off, he wasn't able to make out much of anything. Objects of varying shades of darkness went past in a blur. Something the size of a lamp flew by. Whatever it was smashed nicely a few feet down the wall from him. A piece of shrapnel cut his face, and he winced. That small noise seemed to have an effect on the fight going on in the main room. All movement ceased. Then, just as suddenly, it started again. What he could only assume to be two beings rushed for him.

Viktor stepped back into his room and pressed against the wall, next to the door. There were two of them, but he didn't know if they were Harom and S'rea, Harom and the assassin or two assassins. If neither of them were S'rea then he hoped she had gone for help, although he doubted it.

The wall he was leaning against rattled as someone was thrown against it. "Damn they're strong," Viktor whispered, suddenly glad he was safe in his bedroom.

Someone in his living room screamed. It was a horrible, inhuman noise and it had Viktor fearing the worst. Without thinking, he ran for the door. It opened and he twisted sideways to fit through. He was in time to see the main door close. Viktor took off in pursuit.

* * *

S'rea spat and cursed at the Lyrissian who had attacked them. She bounced around in time with his feet as he ran with her unceremoniously slung over his shoulder. Her hands were bound tightly behind her back. Aside from wriggling and cursing loudly, there was little she could do.

"We are on a Space Corps vessel. Where could you possibly be taking me?" she demanded.

"You are leaving the ship," her captor sneered.

"How do you intend to do that?"

"Orka," he replied.

S'rea paused in her struggles. The Orka were nearby. "What do you want with me?"
 

"A gift," he said.

"No!" she cried out. "Let me go!"

"S'rea!"

She heard her name being called from the far end of the corridor and tried to lift her head to see. It was the U-man male. She saw him stop and lift a tall, slender object. He was taking aim, she realized. At them. Alarmed, she flailed around some more and tried to swing out of the way of his shot.

* * *

Viktor took a long, calming breath. His heartbeat slowed as he took aim. He had only seconds. One shot. He pushed from his mind the possibility that he would hit the wrong target and, between beats, he let loose the projectile.

* * *

S'rea's captor stumbled. When he fell, gravity gave her no choice but to go with him to the deck. S'rea stared up at the ceiling while she regained her senses. Her captor moaned, and she quickly rolled to her feet. She stared down at him, shocked to find a long, thin shaft embedded in his behind. The Lyrissian made feeble attempts to reach for it, but the arrow appeared to be jammed quite far in.

Footsteps pounded on the deck plating. S'rea looked up to find the U-man running toward her. Viktor reached her and skidded to a halt.

Jutting her chin in the direction of the Lyrissian's bottom, she asked, "What is that?"
 

"An arrow," Viktor said distractedly.

S'rea frowned at him. His weapon intrigued her, but she now wondered why he was staring at her. "What?"

"You have hair," he said.

She stared at him as if he had lost his mind. "Of course I have hair," she snapped. "Now untie me." S'rea turned around so he could be useful; instead she felt his hand on her neck. She froze. He slipped his hand slowly down each ridge to her collarbone.

"You have ridges," he murmured.

S'rea closed her eyes. His hand was warm—so warm, in fact, that she could feel it through her hard ridges. The moment was broken by the sound of more feet pounding on the deck. S'rea snorted, spun around and kicked Viktor hard in the shin.

The U-man yelped and dropped the tall weapon he had been holding in his other hand.

"I told you to untie me," she said, and walked away.

* * *

Viktor hissed, and for the first time in the past week, it was not because he was talking to a Lyrissian.

"Darling, if you insist on getting beaten up, you have to live with the booboos." The doctor smirked at him. "And the doctors that love to put bandages on your very nice legs."

"Look, Bill," said Viktor, "just tell me she didn't break anything, and cut the flirting. Not in the mood."

"Aren't we a Mr. Grumble-Bum today," Bill muttered, but did as requested. "Care to explain to me why I have a surly Lyrissian with an arrow stuck out of his butt?"

"Made a good target," said Viktor. He hissed again at the doctor.

"Well, you were lucky, it was probably the only soft part on him from behind. These boys are thick-skinned, Vik. Those ridges you mentioned—they cover quite a lot of their body," Bill said. "Mostly the back, shoulders, neck, arms, outside of the legs."

"I'd like my arrow back, Bill."

"Of course, whenever I get around to removing it that is," Bill said with a cheeky grin.

"What about S'rea?"
 

"Did you put an arrow in her as well?" Bill asked.

Viktor shook his head. "How is she?"

"She's fine. A few cuts and bruises. One of my medics, however…"

"He touched her?"

"Yes, how did you know?" Bill asked.

"Lucky guess."

"Oh, the colonel would like you to translate for him. Seems the prisoner doesn't speak Common," Bill told him as he tied off the bandage. "Well, you're good to go, Vik. Unless you want me to kiss it better?"

"Sorry, Bill—still not interested."

"Nuts."

* * *

S'rea sneered at the Lyrissian who had attempted to kidnap her and
gift
her to the Orka. She knew how the species treated their women and would rather take a mate than suffer from that fate.

"Well?" the colonel asked her after she completed another heated exchange.

S'rea shook her head and caught sight of Viktor, who had slipped into the room. The weapon slung over his shoulder was obviously a prized possession. He did not appear injured, however; he kept staring at her while he talked with the colonel. She glared at him and put his unwanted attention down to her lack of veil. After this, she would need to cover up again.

"S'rea," Viktor said. She reluctantly joined them, and he asked, "Have you been threatening violence against him during the whole interrogation?"

"No," she said, and ignored the look the colonel gave her. "Just for most of it. Is that not how U-mans interrogate their prisoners?"

The colonel swore and turned away from them. Viktor, for his part, smiled and said, "You're lucky you have an innocent face."

"Can you salvage this?" Roger asked Viktor.

"Maybe," said Viktor. "What does he want?"