Lost in Barbarian Space (8 page)

“Hey, warrior, where are you going?”

He pressed his palm to a door lock and it opened. Inside, the cabin was much the same as his, but a mirror image. The bed was neatly made, no clothes strewn anywhere, and the tantalizing scent of Honor was strong.

He strode in. He saw two crossed wooden staffs on the wall above the bed. They looked old, the center grips wrapped in faded red fabric. He spied a framed picture beside the bed.

“Barbarian,” she growled. “How about you get out of my cabin?”

He picked up the frame and studied the image. An older man stood to one side, his arm around a smiling Honor. On her other side were two tall men with short hair and rugged faces. The resemblance between them all was remarkable.

“Your family?”

“Yes.” She snatched the frame and set it down. “My father and brothers. They’re all soldiers in the GSS—Galactic Security Services.”

Colm tilted his head. “Why are you not part of this GSS?”

“My father asks me that every time I speak to him.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sure you won’t understand, but I don’t like to kill. I wanted to use my skills to protect, plus I love history, so working security for the Institute suits me far better than the military.”

Colm paused for a moment. “That makes perfect sense.”

Her mouth opened, closed. “No comment on me being too soft? Not having a killer instinct?”

He guessed she’d heard those accusations before. He lowered his voice. “Honor, I saw you use that sword and I saw you fight the raiders. I think your instincts, killer or not, are fine.”

She stared at him. “You just keep surprising and confusing me, warrior.”

He smiled. “Good.” He was going to taste Honor Brandall before she left his world, his own control issues be damned. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

“A gift.” He held out the package he’d had in his bag.

She eyed it like it might bite her.

“Does no one give you gifts?”

“No one I work with.”

She was a prickly thing. “It is Markarian tradition for leaders from different clans to offer a gift at the beginning of a working alliance.”

“Oh.” She took it and opened the thin, paper wrapping. Her eyes widened. “Oh!”

The gauntlets were smaller versions of the ones she’d admired at the arena. He’d paid a small fortune for the artisan to finish them quickly. It meant they weren’t richly decorated, just a few swirling engravings in the deep-brown leather. But Colm decided they suited Honor better that way.

She stroked them, a look of want on her face, and it went straight to Colm’s cock. He shifted.

She looked up. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“It is tradition on Markaria to seal a working deal with a kiss.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Markarian warriors kiss when they work together?”

“No. They do a warrior’s shake, but since you have not passed the Way of the Warrior, you are not considered a warrior.” He smiled as she scowled. “No matter how well you can swing a sword or staff.”

“Fine.” She went up on her toes, pressing one hand to his chest.

He felt the burn of that touch, felt the sweet warmth of her. She pressed her lips to his. One fleeting brush. Then she pulled back.

He saw the heat flickering in her eyes. “Kiss me again, Honor.”

“I shouldn’t. I think you’re dangerous. You warriors should come with a warning.”

“You aren’t a coward. What if I promise to keep my hands at my sides?”

“No.”

“Kiss me,” he coaxed. “One more time.”

She was still and silent, her gaze on his. Then slowly, so incredibly slowly, she leaned forward.

She nipped at his bottom lip, then deepened the kiss.

Colm groaned. She did, too, and suddenly the kiss turned into something wild and out of control. Colm’s nails bit into his skin as he fought not to break his word and grab her.

She threw her arms around his neck, her body plastered to his. She made hungry sounds, and Colm poured his frustration and desire into the kiss.

“Agent Brandall, prep for take-off is going well. Twenty minutes.”

The voice made them jerk apart. The sound was coming from the small badge attached to Honor’s heaving chest.

She stepped back and he watched as her face turned serious. She touched the badge. “Thank you, Wu. We’ll be there shortly.” She looked back at Colm. “Thank you for these.” She set the gauntlets on her bed. “Now, let me quickly show you the rest of the ship and we’ll get up to the cockpit for take-off.”

Chapter Six

Honor tried to calm the trembling, hungry feeling in her belly.

A hunger for one thing.

One man.

Colm strode beside her, taking up most of the corridor. He was looking around, absorbing everything about the ship.

She really wished he’d been the all brawn-no brains warrior she’d assumed when she’d first arrived on Markaria. She thought of the gauntlets in her cabin. He was proving to have far more depth, and cunning, than she’d given him credit for.

“Here’s the ship’s gym. I know our scanning trip won’t be long, but you’re welcome to use it if you wish.”

He stepped inside, eyeing it all. “This is where you train?”

“Yes. Sparring, hand-to-hand. We also have machines for exercise and muscle-building.”

He made a grunting sound, which she took to mean he wasn’t that impressed about exercising with a machine.

She moved over to the line of spar-droids resting in the rack on the wall. “These are special spar-droids. You can program them to spar with you at different levels of intensity and several hundred different combat methods from around the galaxy.”

She hit the button and the first droid moved out. It was shaped like a humanoid but had no legs, just floated a meter off the ground.

Colm raised a brow. “That can fight?”

“Yes. Droid, activate program brandall-alpha-seven.”

The droid shot forward with a hard-driving punch at Honor. She was ready to block it when something slashed down fast between her and the droid.

Colm’s sword split the droid in two. It fell to the mats in a sparking mass of broken metal and wires.

She stared at it, open-mouthed. “Uh, warrior, you weren’t supposed to kill it.”

Colm slid his sword back into his scabbard. “It was trying to hurt you.”

“It’s a machine, Colm. It was doing exactly what I asked it to do. I spar with these things all the time.”

A flush of dull color hit his cheekbones. “I am not sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, this was my fault. I’ll have someone fix—” she eyed the destroyed droid again “—er, throw it in the trash.”

“Hoo, what happened here?”

Honor closed her eyes and prayed for patience. She faced the newcomer. “Darzan. Ah, nothing. The droid apparently doesn’t have a warrior setting. This is Warrior Colm Mal Kor. Colm, this is Agent Wade Darzan, a new member of our security team.”

Darzan looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Yeah, sorry, these droids don’t come with a simple, low-tech setting.” The man was enunciating his words like he was talking to a child.

Honor frowned at him. What did he think he was doing? They’d all been briefed that the Markarian language was very similar to English.

“That’s what you’re used to here, right, barbarian?” Darzan finished.

Honor stiffened. “Agent Darzan, you’re out of line.”

Beside her, Colm stayed relaxed. He held up a hand. “I don’t fight machines, no. I fight wild darken beasts and other men my size.” Colm eyed Darzan’s shorter, more slender body.

Darzan went stiff. “I’m a trained security agent…I know more about combat than you’ll ever be able to dream about.” He pulled his laser pistol out. “You might wear fur and have a big, old-fashioned sword, but you’re no match for this baby.” Darzan aimed his weapon at Colm’s chest and smiled. “I could kill you in a second.”

Colm moved so fast he was a blur. His wristbands glinted in the overhead lights as he grabbed the laser pistol. A twist of his hands and it crumpled. He dropped it onto the mats.

Darzan goggled. “That’s my weapon! You can’t—”

“Would you like to challenge me?” Colm’s voice was low and silky. “On Markaria, we have challenges to the death. Just you and me in an arena…only one walks out alive.”

“Ah…” Darzan’s complexion suddenly looked green. He glanced at Honor, his eyes pleading.

She crossed her arms. She wasn’t helping him out here.

“You can even bring your weapons.” Colm dusted the last of the crushed stunner pieces off his hands.

“No…I…”

“Agent Darzan, you pulled a weapon on a guest for no reason.” Honor kept her tone as cool as she could, but anger was vibrating through her. “I will be reporting your inappropriate conduct to Darc. You’ve been rude to Warrior Mal Kor. What do you think Darc’s going to say about that? Scratch that, she won’t
say
anything. What do you think she’ll
do
?”

Darzan’s face paled more.

“And what do you have to say to Warrior Mal Kor?” she said.

Darzan swallowed. “My apologies.” The man looked like he wanted to crawl into a maintenance shaft and hide.

“Dismissed, Agent Darzan. Get strapped in for take-off. Come on, Colm. We need to get to the cockpit.”

She exited the gym and Colm followed.

“Colm, I’m sorry.”

He stopped. He looked calm and unconcerned. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, I do. That idiot is a part of my group and…”

“Honor, there are small, nasty idiots everywhere.” He smiled. “Even on Markaria. Apparently fancy technology—” he waved at the ship around them “—doesn’t change that. A man…or a woman…is judged on their actions alone. Not those of the people around her.”

He just kept surprising her. She let her gaze trace the hard blades of his cheekbones, the strong, chiseled jaw.

Her comm badge chimed. “Agent Brandall? We are ready for take-off when you are.”

Honor nodded. “It’s time to head into space. Ready?”

Colm gave one decisive nod. “Ready.”

***

Colm followed Honor into the cockpit. There was a wide screen of glass showing a pretty view of one of Kavon’s fields. This one was left fallow, and dotted with yellow gaia flowers.

There were two main seats at the front, both occupied by uniformed agents, busy tapping the screens in front of them. Another woman sat at a console to the side. She, too, was tapping and swiping furiously, her brow creased. The two rows of seats behind them were empty.

“Captain Dagan and Co-pilot T’kon,” Honor called out. “I’d like to introduce our Markarian escort, Warrior Colm Mal Kor.”

The man and woman at the front turned.

“I’m Captain Amelia Dagan,” the older woman said. “A pleasure to have you aboard the
Drake
. We’re finishing the pre-flight checks now, so please strap in.”

“And Colm, this is Agent Ning Abora.” Honor waved at the young woman to the side.

The woman smiled. She had pale-blue skin and wide eyes. “It’s fabulous to meet you. Your world is fascinating.”

“Ning is our science officer. She’ll be running the scans today.”

The younger woman tucked some of her pale hair back. “This is my first mission. It’s rather exciting and I’m so thrilled to be visiting Markaria. A new world in uncharted space…” She gave a happy sigh.

Colm inclined his head. “Your enthusiasm does you credit.”

The science officer might have been of a different species, but she still flushed prettily.

“All right,” the co-pilot called out. “Everyone take your seats. Take off in thirty seconds.”

Colm followed Honor to two seats behind the pilots. He settled in and heard the chair creak under his weight. If it had been any smaller, he wouldn’t have fit in the damn thing.

“Here.” Honor leaned over him, pulling the straps across his chest.

Colm sat still and let her fuss. When her knuckles brushed his stomach, he pulled in a breath.

She froze and her gaze flicked up to his.

Heat flickered in her green eyes and Colm felt his nanami stir, like a hungry beast waking. As he tried to calm them, he clamped his hands on the armrests of his chair.

Soon
. Very soon he needed Honor Brandall under him to quench this crazy need.

She sat back and went to work on her own harness.

“Ready for take-off.” The pilots’ hands were moving over their screens, their faces set in concentration.

Colm felt the ship lift, felt his stomach tense. There was a pressure that pushed him back into his seat.

But then his gaze glued to the glass screen in front of them. He saw a blur of color as they moved over the field. They shot upward and he clamped his hands down harder on the armrest, feeling the metal bend. By the warrior, he was very sure warriors weren’t designed to fly.

A hand discreetly pressed down over his. Honor wasn’t looking at him, she was staring ahead, but her fingers stroked his.

He suppressed a grin. She was trying to soothe him. He might find the new experience of flying…unsettling, but he wasn’t concerned. Still, he left her hand where it was, enjoying the contact.

Soon, Markaria was behind them, and they entered the black of space. Colm pulled in a deep breath. The
Drake
changed course, and he had a perfect view of his planet below. A ball of pale blue.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He nodded at Honor. “It is more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

“So you can be surprised.”

There was a teasing note to her voice. He turned to look at her, lowering his voice. “You’ve surprised me at every interaction we’ve had.”

Her tongue darted out and licked her lips. “Colm.”

“Coming up on the first moon,” Agent Abora said.

Colm dragged his gaze from the confounding woman at his side and once again, felt a hitch in his chest.

The ball of pitted rock that was Markaria’s smaller moon, Myrine, was growing larger and larger through the window.

“You can undo your harness now,” Honor said as she unfastened her own.

Soon the two of them stood by the window.

“Starting scans,” the young science officer said.