The Melier (Women of Dor Nye Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: The Melier (Women of Dor Nye Book 1)
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“Now, since I have no intention of calling you slave 892, mainly because that requires more effort than I’d ever care to exert,” she sighed and tapped her chin in thought. “Your new name is… Soren. Yes, I quite like that.”

The strange array of emotions that swept over his face in nanoseconds wasn’t lost on Lucia. Confusion and elation were the most predominate
. Poor beast
, she inwardly mewled,
he’s probably never been shown decency at the hands of an owner. No, definitely not if he belonged to the Treps.
“Who was your master before Ta’Ra’Enn?”

His hairless brows rose, and then settled into complacency. “I have always belonged to Commander Ta’Ra’Enn.”

Hmph. Definitely a poor beasty.

Turning, Lucia walked around a few more of the crates, gaze perusing and fingers lifting lids to try and assess the worth of her spoils. “Finish dressing, Soren,” she threw over her shoulder. “Then, I want the ships inventory. Can you find that for me?”

Soren grunted. “Thank you Loo-Sha. I will locate the inventory log.”

When she heard the zip of his suit and then the rattle of the metal stairs, she finally looked back. Her eyes bugged and she blanched at the short-furred blue tail that swept at his ankles.

Guess he does have some hair after all.

Chapter 2

Lucia was bent over waist deep in one of the taller crates, toes barely skimming the floor of the cargo hold as she tried to keep her weight balanced on the crate’s edge. Every breath was a wheeze as it put pressure on her diaphragm where she teetered, but she needed to reach the peculiar box at the bottom of this crate. It was smack in the middle and her arms were just a few inches too short. Straining, her fingers skimmed the wooden box in a completely ineffective manner, since it was entirely too solid and heavy to slide with her fingertips alone. “Jeezuzzzz,” she rasped out and lurched again, futilely. Sagging over the side of the crate, she dangled there a moment to try and gather more strength. She still hadn’t taken any rest since her hairline escape from the Treps.
One more time…
She stretched, putting all her effort into it.

“May I assist, Loo-Sha?”

Lucia yelped and lost her center of gravity, causing her to tip forward just too much and topple into the crate with a
thunk
and exasperated whine. The blue beast slowly loomed over the crate, tilting his head to the side as he examined her struggling to right herself among the uneven contents. Her curls pulled and bounced around her head, blocking her eyesight momentarily, which only made her moan in further frustration. “Don’t. Ever. Sneak. Up,” she wheezed through puffs of breath and shoved herself upright enough to glare at his hovering face. “
Onmeagain
!” The last part came out in a jumbled, annoyed rush. She gave up and collapsed back against the lumpy, tarp covered objects. Something was poking into her hip, but she just didn’t have the strength to care.

Chest rising and falling heavily, she blinked repeatedly and listened to the blood pulse in her ears as her heart tried to slow down. “What am I even doing here?” she moaned, wondering why the hell she was having a moment of life reflection at the bottom of a crate in a cargo hold on a
twice
stolen ship with a slave watching her like
she
was the alien.

“You fell in, Loo-Sha,” Soren stated plainly. Lucia opened her eyes, brushed her hair from her forehead and glared at him for the second time. He at least had the decency to shrink back a couple inches.

“Did you find the inventory log?” she bit out.

“Yes, Loo-Sha.” Soren lifted a glass tablet in the air. Blue text glowed on its surface in a language other than English. She groaned.

“Which language is it?”

“Trade language Lotyne, Loo-Sha.” There were three trade languages; English, Lotyne and Za. Za was the worst. A language with lots of whining and mewling that some considered beautiful and elegant. Lucia considered it a quick way to the asylum.

“I can’t read Lotyne,” she sighed, still glaring up at Soren. She could only read English, though she could speak all trade languages fluently.

“I can, Loo-Sha,” Soren smiled and his stark white teeth against his cobalt skin gleaned down at her. Their predatory sharpness took her by surprise. His double incisors were abnormally long and thick, fitting into grooves in his jaw. The rest of his teeth looked like razors, ready to tear and render flesh from bone. She ripped her gaze from Soren’s teeth and made a mental note to keep her fingers far from his mouth. “I am able to read all trade languages, but it is difficult to vocalize them.”

Lucia snorted.
Don’t we make a pair? I can speak them, he can read them.
“Great. So let’s get down to business. Help me out of this damn crate.” Her fingers reached up, that being the extent of her strength. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if he was going to help her, so she waved her raised hand around to make him pay attention. Her eyes popped open when she felt his warm, textured skin slide under her palm. The massive hand enclosed hers, gripping her wrist as well in its coverage. In the next moment, four hands were placed about her body; two around her flared hips, one along her wrist, the other along her spine between her shoulder blades. A small sound escaped her lips as she was lifted and set upright outside of the crate. All hands left her just as quickly, causing her to reach out and grip the crates edge for balance.

“Thanks,” she mumbled and then cleared her throat. “Now, I need that wooden box in the middle.” Lucia just had this tingly feeling there was something in there she wanted. Call it her experience after five years of bounty hunting. When she got the itch in her palms, she knew she found something.

When Soren didn’t immediately move, she gazed back up at him and caught his eyes. The slit pupils were fully dilated, causing his entire eye to turn black. The unsettling obsidian orbs made her spine snap ramrod straight. “Soren?”

He blinked. Blinked again. The pupils slowly retracted until they were rounded diamond shapes. “Yes, Loo-Sha,” he responded and immediately turned to lift the wooden box like it weighed nothing. Setting it down before her feet, he popped the top easily and then took a step back.

That was weird.
Lucia gave him another sized up glance before sinking down to her haunches and brushing back the straw covering of whatever was in the box.

“Eeeee!” she shrieked in excitement, vaguely noticing Soren cover his ears. She shook her fingers in front of her, squealing in delight at the contents. Tentatively, her digits skimmed the spines of the five tomes before her. “Oh man,” she breathed. “These are first editions!” The overwhelming hesitation to touch them almost had her closing the box back up. The spines were soft, made from
weqna
beast skin. Beasts so vicious, illusive and master predators, it was hard to hunt them at all. Their meat was a delicacy, their hides sold for thousands of credits but it was rare you ever saw them for sale. Only true warriors from the YutYut galaxy planets ever had the gall to go after such beasts and often kept their hides as show of their prowess.

Lucia could retire if she sold these tomes.

But I can’t sell these! They’re so precious…and they’re classic YutYut tales, at that.

Yes Lu, sell them.

No,
she inwardly battled and whined.

Do you enjoy getting shot at?
Her inner logical self-questioned. It was hard to argue with that.

Grrr, the bitch is always right.

I know I am.

“Loo-Sha?” Soren’s worried voice interrupted her comeback and she dragged her gaze from the tomes.

“What Soren? I’m kind of busy here in a battle of
wills
.”

How about I keep four and sell one?

No.

Three?

Nope.

I’ll keep one and sell four. I need at least one, damn it!

Contemplative silence.

Fine. One.

Her shit eating grin of glee probably freaked Soren out, since she was still staring at him during her inner monologue. Lucia’s lips slipped back to normal as she got a grip on herself. He looked torn between saying anything more and running for his life. Lucia stood and waved a hand. “Okay Soren, let’s figure out what else is in this hold.”

He looked immensely relieved.
He must’ve really thought I was planning something diabolical.

No, just losing your goddamned mind.

Ugh, shut the fuck up.

****

An hour later, Lucia was sprawled over the top of a crate, fighting to keep awake as Soren droned on. The inventory was going to bring her enough credits to comfortably float for the next ten space terms, or ten Dor Nye years, at least. She yawned and stretched like a contented pet, luxuriating in her spoils. The Treps would be hoppin’ mad that she’d stolen this craft if they were still alive.
Good. Hmph.

“Loo-Sha?” Lucia cracked an eyelid open and startled at Soren’s hovering face so close to hers.

“Soren, we need to discuss personal space. You and I have very different ideas about
the bubble
.”

“What bubble, Loo-Sha?”

“My point exactly!” Lucia pulled herself up into a sitting position, and Soren thankfully took a step backward. “We can finish going over what’s left of the inventory tomorrow. I’m beat.”

“Who beat you?” Soren’s muscles rippled under his skin.

“Not literally,” Lucia waved a hand. She was beginning to understand Soren couldn’t comprehend sarcasm.  “It means I’m tired, wiped out, exhausted.”

Understanding lit his features.
Ding.
“I am
beat
too.” Lucia bit the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face. The blue beasty was kind of growing on her.

“Captain?” Wade’s smooth, synthesized vocals came through the ships hidden speakers.

“Yes, Wade?”

“I have reached communication with Trey, Mima and Raz. Would you like me to-“

“Vid in command!” Lucia ordered and hopped from the crate in a mad dash to the stairs. Anticipation coursed through her veins as she shot up the steps and through the hall and galley. She grabbed the back of the command chair, stumbling in her attempt to slow down. The shield of the crafter lit up, Raz’s ugly mug coming through.

“Lucia!” he exclaimed, a sigh of relief –
she hoped-
slipping.

“Oh my stars!” Lucia replied. “I thought you were dead, for sure! Where is Mima and Trey? How did you make it out? Is everyone alive? Did the Treps get blown to smithereens?”

“Slow down Lu,” he held up a hand. “Mima and Trey are fine, now. One of the Treps
bit
her and dislocated her shoulder. It was a bloody mess, and it’s amazing she didn’t lose the arm. We found the escape pods and landed on Bolnar Pan. She’s in the medical unit right now, but they said she’ll be fine in a week.”

Lucia shivered, thinking about how painful it would be to get bitten by a Trepnil. Their teeth were like long needles in their elongated, scaly snouts. All their drool would be a festering pool of bacteria, she imagined.

“Hey Lu,” Trey stuck his head in front of the vid, waving and disappearing again.

“As you can see, Trey’s fine. Most of the Treps are space food. Their ship was obliterated.” Lucia felt her way into the command chair and sagged against it. “Where are you, and who or what is that?”

For a moment, Lucia wasn’t sure what Raz was talking about until she realized he was looking
past
her. She leaned over the arm of the chair and noticed the slave. “Oh, that’s Soren. He was fixing the sensors when I took this craft. I’m headed to Dor Nye.”

“Anything good?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Lu grinned and proceeded to tell him what most of the inventory consisted of. Of course, she didn’t say anything about the tomes she found.
Let’s just call it a finder’s fee.
The profits from those tomes were going to support her until she figured out what else she wanted to do for a living, if anything at all. Maybe she’d just laze around Zar Tu’s lush resort at the capital, sipping
ular
fruit cocktails the rest of her days while Soren rubbed her feet. Lucia almost laughed, but her breath lodged in her throat at the winding tickle she felt at the thought of Soren’s textured, warm skin rubbing her feet and calves. Her thighs squished together.

You’ve gone overboard, fantasizing about a blue monkey. You need a man, just like mama always says.

It’s baboon and don’t bring mama into this. I
definitely
don’t need the man she has in mind for me.
Lucia shivered, thinking about the pretty idiot her mother had been urging her to partner with.

“Lu? Lu?” Raz waved a hand over the vid screen.

“Hmm?”

“I said I have to go, but I’ll comm again when Mima is awake.”

“Okay!” she squeaked, waved and shut down the comm.

Lucia jumped at the sound of a low groan. Leaning back over the arm of the chair, she noticed Soren closer than he was a few minutes ago. His eyes were black again.
It freaks me the fuck out…
“Sor-”

“I smell you, Loo-Sha,” he ground out, his straight nose with its slightly wider nostrils flared repeatedly as he scented the air. It dawned on her that Trepnil ships only ever had males on them, aside from any captures the Treps might get their hands on. Soren’s probably never been around a woman or female
anything
.

“Soren…” she started out slowly in a warning tone. She squished her thighs together again when her eyes dipped to the straining appendage at the juncture of his suit. Lucia shot up out of her chair like a lightning bolt, keeping the command chair between her and Soren as a safety precaution. “Control yourself,” she bit out in her best assertive tone.

Slowly, his pupils retreated back to their regular shape and Lucia dared not look to see if anything else on his body went back to normal. “Now,” she calmly said. “I’m going to get some sleep. You should too.”

Carefully skirting Soren, Lucia went back through the galley and swiped the panel to the sleeping quarters. Upon entering, she turned around to swipe it closed and came face to belly button-less blue man. Baboon. Alien.
IT!
“W-what are you doing?!”

“I am going to sleep, like Loo-Sha said to.”

BOOK: The Melier (Women of Dor Nye Book 1)
8.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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