Starkissed (2 page)

He brought out a black velvet pouch and cleverly undid the complicated knot in the silver cord. He turned the pouch upside down and poured the contents on the table.

A dozen polished gems danced across the surface. Brilliant fire, red sparks radiating outward, glowed within the center of each crystalline stone. The Zi jewels!

Leith fell back into her chair. Collectors slavered over the chance to obtain one. The rich and the famous, from vid stars to royalty across the galaxy, coveted the prestige of owning one. She was no connoisseur, but even she could see the innate beauty in the stones. She held one against the dim light. It blazed brighter than a laserlight beam. She could only dream what one would look like in full sun. Carefully, she returned it to the others.

Steve, mesmerized by the sight, cleared his throat. “I see you brought the required amount.”

“Yesss,” Commander J’Qhir hissed. “I brought the amount ssspecified when lassst we ssspoke.”

His sibilant speech had intrigued her from the moment he first spoke, but the obvious resentment in this last comment made her take her eyes away from the brilliant gems to rest upon his face. Were the slits in his amber eyes narrower than before?

The uneasiness she felt from the beginning had grown to a strange undercurrent of disturbance. Something was wrong between the Commander and Steve, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. They didn’t like one another, but it was more than that. If she got out of this alive, she swore she would ask more questions next time. Her premonition was so strong, she was certain none of them would survive unscathed.

The Paxian sat with slender hands folded on the table, his humanoid fingers long and graceful. He had expressed no interest in the gems, had not even looked at them when the Commander spread them out. Resembling a human more than the Zi, his eyes were round, a beautiful shade of blue, and yet they didn’t seem real, as if they were glass replicas.

His feathers ruffled. “Perhaps we should proceed.”

A peacekeeper. She should have known, of course, since it was the reason his world came to be called Pax in Terran Standard. She sensed the Zi Warrior trusted him, but his primary function was to act as a mediator if the meeting threatened to explode. His calming influence ensured that each side came away satisfied. Leith relaxed a little, comprehending the unlikely pairing of Zi and Paxian. Paxians were often used as www.samhainpublishing.com

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Lanette

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peacekeepers when opposite sides were more likely to let their passions overrule common sense.

“Our carrier is docked in Bay 3,” Steve said, unable to take his eyes off the gems.

“My warssship isss in Bay 24.” The Commander gathered the jewels and returned them to the pouch. Deftly, he retied the cord into the intricate knot. “My crew isss ready to transssfer the cargo.”

“And our crew is standing by,” Steve replied.

The four stood. One of the few moments when the Commander took his eyes off Leith, he looked at the pouch clutched hard in his fist. “For my people,” he murmured and, bypassing Steve’s outstretched hand, gave it to Leith.

She tried to say thank you, but the words would trivialize the sacrifice of the jewels.

Instead, she bowed her head briefly. His only response was his unblinking gaze.

“Uh, let me have them, Leith. I have the security belt,” Steve said eagerly.

Too eagerly, it seemed to Leith. Reluctantly, she handed them over. Next time, she vowed, she would wear the security belt. The jewels would be safe. An ear-piercing alarm would sound if the belt was stolen. If forced open without the code, incapacitating electrical charges would be the thief’s reward.

Grinning smugly, Steve placed the pouch inside the cavity and keyed in the code.

Ashamed of Steve’s eagerness to obtain the gems, Leith couldn’t meet Commander J’Qhir’s eyes. Didn’t Steve know how difficult it was for the Commander to relinquish them? Or was it that Steve just didn’t care? Only the need for the cargo outweighed the value of the jewels to the Zi.

Disgusted with herself for not asking what the cargo was, Leith could only assume they carried weapons. What else would a technologically inferior society at war need?

She had heard all the stories of how the Zi were out to conquer the Crucians and rape and plunder the lush world of Crux. Their own world was hot and dry, little more than sand and rock, and they were running out of resources. The Crucians tried to compromise by sharing their bounty, but the Zi wanted it all.

Why had her parents agreed to trade with them? Supplying weapons to the Zi was a serious offense. If caught, they would all go to prison for life, if not face execution. What could they have been thinking?
If
she returned to Earth, she would have a long talk with her mother…

Her sympathy dissipated. The Zi Warrior deserved whatever befell him, but she didn’t. Oh, she knew pleading ignorance would not save her. She’d hang along with the rest of them. It wasn’t fair she found herself in this predicament. However, it was her fault for not asking questions.

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Starkissed

11

“It will take a few hours to transfer the cargo,” Steve said as they prepared to leave.

“Would you like a tour of the carrier? It’s the latest design, Galaxian class, and the newest addition to the McClure fleet.”

What had possessed Steve to make the offer and prolong contact with the Zi? Leith was anxious to conclude this unpleasant business and return to Earth.

The Commander’s response was even more puzzling. “Yesss, I would like to compare it to my warssship.”

“Corru, would you care to join us?” Steve extended the invitation.

The Paxian shook his head, feathers ruffling then settling. “Thank you, no. I have another appointment this evening.”

Halfway across the room, Steve stopped suddenly and Leith almost bumped into him. He glanced toward the farthest corner where a group of four or five humans gathered around a large table.

“Are you looking for someone?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard above a Biian harp being played too loudly.

Startled, Steve whirled on her. “I, uh, thought I saw someone I knew, but I was wrong.”

They waited while the Peridots crawled through the door, then stepped outside. After the smoky, smelly interior of the bar, Leith drew in several deep breaths of crisp, clean air. She felt as if she hadn’t taken a breath for hours.

Corru took his leave of them, grasping arms with J’Qhir and shaking hands with Leith. He disappeared into a dark alley. Steve led the way to the spaceport, walking ahead a few steps. With his long legs, the Commander could have outdistanced them both, but he matched his stride to Leith’s. He stayed so close beside her their jackets occasionally brushed.

The few humans who came into contact with a Zi reported experiencing an innate aversion to them. Because of their saurian eyes, she supposed. Vertical slits for pupils surrounded by amber were distinctly different from human eyes, but Leith felt no repulsion when she looked at the Commander. What should repulse her was his warrior status, the Zi trying to conquer the Crucians, and this particular Zi involving her parents in illegal trading. That should make her furious.

Yet, there was something about this quiet, dignified male that contradicted all of these thoughts. She couldn’t feel repulsion or fury toward him no matter how hard she tried or what reason she could think of to justify such feelings.

She felt something else and refused to identify it.

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Lanette

Curington

Leith frowned into the dark night, illuminated only by a sky full of stars and the pale double moons hanging overhead. They had only a few more hours, and then Commander J’Qhir, Zi Warrior, would be out of her life for good. She wouldn’t have to wrestle with her conscience any longer.

”””

J’Qhir trod slowly beside the human female, the
saàloh.
He had expected to meet with Cameron as usual. He had often spoken with Hancock to make arrangements, but Cameron would be present when the time came to make the exchange.

Unprepared for the
saàloh
youngling, he had been rude. He had broken one of the major tenets of The Zi Warrior: Be prepared for anything and all things and do not allow the unexpected to overcome. He had allowed the unexpected presence of the
saàloh
to jeopardize his mission.

He should, of course, report himself to the Council of Elders, but he was too old and had been the Zi Warrior too long to put himself at the mercy of the Council over a minor transgression. The mission would be completed to everyone’s satisfaction, which was the important thing. He had recovered his senses enough to accept the
saàloh
and her price.

Of course, Cameron had nothing to do with the cost increase. J’Qhir could accept inexperience as an excuse, but not greed. Yet, he had seen no greed in her wide blue eyes as she held the jewel to the light. He saw reverence and the comprehension of how precious the jewels were to his people. Hancock was as avaricious as a Crucian, and J’Qhir expected no less from him. The
saàloh
, however, acting in Cameron’s stead, had to know of the increase and approve.

He tried to summon disgust for her and the price she demanded, but he could not find it. He glanced at her. His eyes were made for the night, and he could see nearly as well then as during the day. Deep brown hair cascaded down her back, shimmering in the double moonlight. Ivory skin glowed starkly against the dark colors of her clothing. He caught a whiff of her scent. By the sands, it was familiar but he could not place it.

His
vha’seh
tightened. How long had it been since his body had responded to a
saàloh
? Too long. The war and the demands of his position weighed heavily upon him so that he had no time or inclination to seek another lifemate after the death of T`hirz.

Now, his inclination was increasing of its own volition.

“Commander, will you return to Zi tonight?” Her harmonious voice broke their comfortable yet unbearable silence.

“Yesss,” he hissed curtly, not knowing why.

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Starkissed

13

She said nothing more, obviously stung by his discourteous manner. He could not blame her. He raised his eyes to the stars. He did not know how to conduct himself with this human
saàloh.

He had spoken to few
saàloh’az
in his life. His mother, long dead, had rarely spoken to him after he reached adulthood. Even before he reached maturity, she had little say in the upbringing of her male offspring. She was a perfect Zi
saàloh
in all ways. She knew her place and kept any opinions, if she had any, to herself.

So also had been T`hirz, his lifemate. His binding with T`hirz had been arranged by his father. The daughter of a Council Elder, he had never seen her before the arrangement had been made. She had never spoken in his presence until the ceremony and, afterwards, she had spoken only when spoken to. She had never expressed curiosity about what he did, whom he saw, or where he went. He had found no fault with T`hirz’s response. Was it not the expected behavior of a lifemate?

They had been bound for less than a season, their physical matings brief and painful for T`hirz. Then, before he ever knew if the seed he planted would bear, she sickened and died.

Shortly thereafter, his father died as well. Enshrouded in sorrow, he had suddenly found himself appointed the Warrior in his father’s place. A dutiful son, he could not refuse the honored position any more than he could have rejected his arranged lifemate.

The appointment came in the middle of the Second War with the Crucians. By the time it had come to an end, any thoughts of finding another lifemate were long forgotten.

He had decided it was unfair to subject anyone else to the all-consuming life of the Warrior. Besides, those
saàloh’az
he had known, who would have made perfectly acceptable lifemates, were all bound to others. He would have had to settle for another arrangement and—with all due respect to his father—this he would not do. Thus, he resigned himself to a solitary existence.

A circle of bright lights indicated they neared the spaceport. Hancock led them inside the circle, across the landing pad to the first row of bays. In Bay 3, the triangular ship rose like a monolith against the night sky, its quicksilver hull gleaming in the light.

“This is the
Catherine McClure,
named for Leith’s mother,” Hancock told him. “It’s the latest model of the Galaxian class and the newest addition to the McClure fleet. The landing struts are made of titanium-jettite alloy and guaranteed to withstand more than one thousand times the weight of the ship.”

J’Qhir watched as Hancock keyed in a code on his remote control pad. A ladder descended from the side of the ship while a door rose. They ascended the ladder with Hancock leading the way. J’Qhir climbed behind the
saàloh
and found himself eye-level www.samhainpublishing.com

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Lanette

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with an intriguing part of her anatomy. Loose-fitting trousers and the bulky jacket left most everything to the imagination, but with each step up, one hip bent and revealed a plump curve on either side. So different from the straight planes of a Zi
saàloh.
He tightened even more.

Ssss, he should not react at all to the physical attributes of any
saàloh
, Zi or otherwise, but these curves tantalized him. Why in the name of the rock did this human
saàloh
make him think of
rhiìnaà
more in the past hour than he had in the past decade?

It was a relief when he stepped through the doorway and his line of sight was now above her instead of upon her. Hancock led them to the command sector, and he spoke into the comm to let the crew know they should begin unloading the cargo.

“I need to alert my crew to prepare for the transssfer,” J’Qhir said. When Hancock nodded, J’Qhir keyed in the frequency and quietly spoke in his own language.