Dancing With The Devil

Tales of the Quiet Kitty 2: Dancing with the Devil Camille Anthony

All rights reserved. Copyright ©2004 by Camille Anthony No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

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Chapter One

Captain Brant Sylenus heaved a bored and antsy sigh. Shifting in his command chair, he rolled over onto one hip and crossed his legs. How much longer are they gonna keep us waiting? Over at the navigational console, Bevel-leveB flicked his tongue out, tasting the air and Brant flinched, knowing he had taken note of his agitated moodiness. With a sour feeling in his gut, he waited for the alien to let loose with one of his usual acerbic comments. He wasn’t in the mood to be reminded he lacked self-control. His brother-in-law, being Jenari, enjoyed heckling him about being the impatient sort. Much as he often wanted to refute his second-in-command, stuff his teasing, ciliated tongue back down his throat, he couldn’t argue with the truth. Waiting was hard for him. In fact, in his opinion, waiting took first prize as the part of their smuggling runs he hated most. Currently he had the Quiet Kitty running on autopilot, locked in synchronous orbit around one of Wistarlandia-2’s minor moons. Everything had been set to go -- cargo weighed, packed and waiting in the hold, ready for unloading… then the Corporation squadron had shown up. So here he was, after two days, still twiddling his thumbs. He could barely stomach standing tamely by while the colonists danced about, distracting the unscheduled patrol that had set down on planet. The colonists knew it wouldn’t do for the Quiet Kitty to be caught by the Corporation’s goon squad. For one thing, they would lose out on all that sugar. Out here on the fringes, even basic foodstuffs were hard to come by. The high-priced luxury items -- like the cargo of cane sugar currently resting in the bowels of the Quiet Kitty -- were almost impossible to obtain. The entire populace of W-2 was practically starved for the expensive delicacy. Being a new -still mired in passage-debt -- colony, they could not afford the Corporation’s exorbitant prices. Knowing their story, Brant felt sorry for them. The naïve settlers of Wisterlandia-2 hadn’t planned on being carted way out to the edges of the Sauris Galaxy and dumped. The Corporation had seen fit to interpret their contract with the eager travelers as supplying a viable world for colonization and nothing else. They’d abandoned the three thousand settlers on a barely stable, newly terra-formed world and charged them for the privilege. Ten years later, no longer so naïve, the colonists continued to harbor ill will against all things Corporate.

They jumped at every opportunity to thwart their traitorous overlords. Every year, freak storms conveniently damaged their crops. Seasonal swarms of ravenous insectoids consumed what remained. Their official records showed they rarely had enough crops to support themselves, let alone benefit the galaxy-wide predator that sought to control all known space. In reality, the yearly bumper crops were harvested and left the planet in the holds of enterprising free-traders. Their animosity toward the Corporation worked just fine for the captain and crew of the Quiet Kitty. Brant’s lips widened in a feral grin as he fondly recalled how avidly the Wistarlandians had responded to his original offers of trade. They’d been more than happy to stiff the Corporation by entering into an ongoing business relationship with him. The thankful people of W-2 gained the sugar and other rare commodities they loved and were able to bask in the happy knowledge that they were royally dissing their landlords. Of his scheduled runs, this one usually proved the most lucrative because he paid practically nothing for the sugar. It was plentiful and cheap in certain areas of the galaxy and his underground contacts in CCS -- Corporation Central Space -- made it easy for him to pick up raw, black-market cane for a song. Having it processed and packaged took next to no credits and even less time. Once aboard the ship, it was easy to smuggle the cargo of high-grade sugar out to the Rim where he sold it for half the going Inner Rim price. The true beauty of it all was, once rendered into sugar, the load wasn’t a bit illegal. They could be stopped and boarded and come away with a clean Corporate receipt. The sugar was clean. He was the cargo the Corporation really sought. They wanted him back in their hands something fierce. That was why smuggling was another plus for him. He wanted those bastards hindered in every way possible. Even the relatively small disruption he caused in the petty enterprise of Corporation sugar sales gave him immense pleasure. Far more importantly, it made him a nice, tidy sum. He realized an even heftier profit from the krasn fruit he took in partial payment. Krasn fruit was beautiful and looked as good as it tasted. The skin of the long, tubular fruit was pale lilac in color, the flesh inside ruby hued. Bisected by a central stem of pod-like seeds, the meat was firm and sweet -- its flavor indescribably delicious… and addictive. But the popularity of the fruit did not lie in its flavor and looks, but in its secondary properties. Krasn seeds -- when ground into powder and added to any liquid -- became the most powerful aphrodisiac known to the linked galaxies. So far the substance had proven effective on every species it had been tested on. It was this quality that made the fruit both sought after and feared. Among many of the races and species inhabiting the three galaxies, the aphrodisiac was known as the Killing Pleasure. In the hands of the skilled, it could become either the perfect torture or the most sublime reward. And used either way, it often resulted in death. Otherwise intelligent beings had been known to chase after the pleasure of the krasn until their hearts gave out. As far as he knew -- and he’d made discrete, extensive inquiries -- Wistarlandia-2 was only one of two worlds in three galaxies where krasn grew. The colonists had been smart enough to keep that crop information from the Corporation. The preliminary scans hadn’t been thorough and by some fluke, the fruit had been overlooked by the initial surveyors. More than likely this proved possible due to the fact krasn grew in the dark, usually in

caves and underground caverns. Since the scans had been confined to the surface once it had been determined no significant deposits of precious metals resided under the soil, the krasn escaped notice. It helped that right after being terra-formed the land had still been in geothermal turmoil, so active the sensors had constantly malfunctioned. Brant chuckled. The damned Corporation messed up on that one and the colonists had been quick to take gleeful advantage. Oh, the krasn brought in great amounts of credit. No matter how much he made on it, Brant still couldn’t quite come to terms with being a dealer in the deadly substance. He, especially, knew how the innocuous-seeming fruit could overpower one’s will. During the years he’d been force-fed the poison in the breeding pens of the Corporation zoo, Brant had become intimately acquainted with the insidious power of the krasn’s seeds. An angry, menacing snarl rumbled in his chest, catching him unawares. He hadn’t thought about those years in a long time and had assumed his well of rage had grown shallow. It hadn’t. Now he didn’t think it ever would. Not until he gained his revenge and regained his family. As their only captured prime Sh’Bahkyr male, he’d been treated like a lowly guinea pig, a lab rat. His captors, the Corporation scientists, had subjected him to a thousand indignities attempting to test the truthfulness of the legends that claimed the males of his race could breed across any species. They hadn’t been too happy when he’d refused to cooperate with their experiments. Brant’s fangs flashed as he recalled the so-called scientists’ fury at his steadfast refusal to mount the females thrust into his cage. Even when they’d fouled his water with krasn powder and hidden it in his food, he’d forced himself to turn from the Shes, drove them away with threats of death. He had determined in his heart that any cubs he sired would roam free, not live caged to be gawked at in viewing pens by human spectators. But he’d almost died from the artificially induced and maddening sexual overdrive. His blood pressure had hit the roof and hung there, threatening imminent stroke. Lungs and heart had been pushed to the limit, forced to work overtime as his pulse pounded out of step every minute of every hellish day. Worse, his cock had remained hard; so swollen and stiff he could not bear to wear clothing. Even the ephemeral touch of the wind, blowing against his engorged flesh, had brought shamed, agonized tears to his eyes. No amount of masturbation helped -- in fact, nothing had hurt more. The agony that ripped through his abused organ during the times he tried to bring himself off had proved almost more than he could bear. Indeed, he could barely tolerate the acidic content of his own piss passing through his throbbing gland. Just when he’d given up hope, years of playing the dejected, depressed captive finally paid off. A few days after he’d come to the decision to end his life, a new guard had slipped up. He’d been warned to take care, but working around Brant day after day, seeing his dejected state, the man must have decided the thin, pain-wracked Sh’Bahkyr was no threat. He’d entered the cage alone. Brant had ripped out his jailer’s throat, switched to his Ghost form and escaped. But not before opening the doors to every cage in the scientist’s so-called zoo. Ever since that day, he’d worked relentlessly toward the goal of gaining revenge on the heartless people who had sought to enslave and break him. Even more important than his revenge was finding his scattered, imprisoned people and rescuing his queen -- who happened to be his twin sister.

A blinking light on the main console caught his eye and refocused his wandering attention. With a disgruntled sigh, Brant made the minor adjustments needed and watched his board signal the expected response. He noted two maintenance lights showing amber and made a mental note to get Willa to take care of those before they turned red. Keeping an eye on the board, he returned to musing over the unique properties of his next cargo. Oh, he knew all about krasn, which was why he was extremely cautious of the beings he sold it to. Of course, there were some races he could trust with krasn. Like the Landresid of Plador, a race that had only one use for the drug. Brant had a standing high-priority order from them for all the fruit he could ship. Over the centuries of their long-lived lives, the Landresid -- the ultra-privileged ruling branch of Pladorian society -- had become sated by and immune to hedonistic pleasures. Their race began dying out due to lack of births. The Landres -- their women -- could only become pregnant during orgasm and without outside help, it seemed they were doomed to attrition. The Landresid were stunned and hopeful when they discovered that the powerful aphrodisiac contained within the krasn seeds could rouse their deadened libidos. They craved that short-lived jolt of sexual excitement so much they considered the fruit worth its weight in old Earth gold. Since Earth was no more, the value of gold just kept going up. So did the price of krasn. Thankfully the deep coffers of the Landresid seemed to have no bottom. Turning from his board, Brant yawned and stretched. Shaking his head, he threw off the depressing memories of his dark past. Having to wait always gave him too much time to think… to brood. Things were different now. He was no longer alone. Soon after his escape, he’d found Bevel-leveB. The poor Jenari had been half out of his head -- both heads -- trying without success to find his lost bond-mate. Together they’d liberated the sole functioning ship remaining of the family’s once strong armada. On the Jenari home world the registry had been obliterated, the ship’s name changed and the Quiet Kitty had been born. A hunting cat was silent, deadly, sneaking up on its prey on muffled paw. Like the silent cat it was named for, the Quiet Kitty was deadly. Bristling with the latest stealth weaponry and the newest long-range Wave travel capability, the ship was just what they needed to facilitate finding and rescuing the disenfranchised members of their families. For every Sh’Bahkyr Clan was a vein leading from the trunk root of the great Core and as such, claimed kinship to the ruling family. Brant sighed. These mental trips to the past always disturbed him. He needed to relax for a while. They wouldn’t be able to bring their cargo to market for another day or so and he didn’t want his head crowded with images of the past. What better way to relax than to spend some time with Willa? His balls were heavy with sperm, his cock thick with need. Now was as good a time as any to see to his new Sexengineer’s required feeding. A smile widening his mouth, he toggled the intercom button on the arm of his command chair with one hand and palmed his cock with the other. “Willa, report to the bridge ASAP.”

Chapter Two

Her sexual appetite never ceased to amaze him. Brant leaned against the bridge command console, legs planted far apart, his freed cock buried in the depths of his Sprite’s hot little mouth. Combing his fingers through the light feathery mass growing from her skull, he gently directed her motions, carefully feeding her more and still more of his tumescent shaft. He groaned and shifted, easing the pressure on his testicles. “Willa, use your teeth… yes, like that… now cup and lick my balls.” One tiny hand cradled his full sac while she nibbled on the vein running the length of his cock, then took him deep. Hollowing her cheeks with the strength of her suction, she swallowed against his length, opening her throat in a practiced move. A sexy hum vibrated along his erection and a groan escaped him. His knees weak, he tightened his hands on her head, feeling her strong pulling motions all the way to his scrotum. Growling a needy command through clenched fangs, he ordered, “Suck me deeper, darling. Harder.” His neck arched. Throwing back his head, he gritted his teeth at the feelings caused by her flicking tongue playing in the slit of his glans, hissing in pleasure. Bending his head, eager to watch her small bowed lips greedily engulfing his swollen cock, he tenderly brushed the brilliantly colored plumes off her forehead. What a beautiful sight. His eyes unfocused as his distracted gaze swept the starboard viewing port. Outside, the majestic panoply of stars and distant planets moving past the vessel in a lazy crawl beckoned to his wandering soul. The galactic dance coupled with Willa’s virtuoso fellatio performance had his heart pounding. He tried to rein in his galloping lust, wanting this moment to last a little longer. His grip softened on her head. His fingers played idly in her silky head fronds as he watched the universe put on an outward show just for him. Willa’s tugging lips triggered another show of pyrotechnics. The dance of stars always soothed him, brought peace when nothing else could. Lately he’d felt that same peaceful calm in the presence of Willa. In the short space of a little over two month’s time, he’d grown hungry for the soft feelings she sparked in him. Somehow she always managed to make him feel like those twinkling stars -- as if his insides were going nova, exploding with life and light. Groaning in gradually rising ecstasy, Brant lowered his head in time to see Bevel-leveB sliding between Willa’s open thighs. They exchanged speaking glances before the Jenari placed long-fingered hands on both the Sprite’s knees and yanked her legs apart. Abruptly and without preamble, Bevel plunged his writhing tongue deep up Willa’s glistening slit. She tore her mouth away, abandoning Brant’s cock to cry out at the sudden invasion. Her small body trembled and shook under the strong lashing. Brant’s balls tightened at the sexy sight of his Sprite writhing on his brother-in-law’s tentacled tongue.

She soon recovered her focus and buried her head back in his crotch. As her head bobbed up and down his length, her trim bottom swayed to the rhythm of Bevel’s cunnilingus. As he struggled to hold back his rising ardor, Brant couldn’t help wondering what those waving cilia would feel like brushing his own rampant flesh, maybe teasing at his rectum… He’d never felt curious before. If the Corporation hadn’t disrupted their lives, he’d have shared sex with Bevel before now. As his twin sister’s bonded mate, Bevel-leveB was his closest male relative. The Sh’Bahkyr race usually bred in twins and triplets and it was custom for sibs to share mates among the unmated siblings. Still, with Letshya gone, the thought of engaging in sex with Bevel had never crossed his mind… until now. By sharing Willa with Bevel, the entirely normal desire to taste him, himself, rose in Brant. His flat round nipples tingled and hardened at the idea, while his seed boiled and seethed in his scrotum under Willa’s expert handling. He knew Bevel wouldn’t mind doing him. Raised on Sh’Bahkyr in the Jenari embassy, Bevel-leveB was well aware of the sexual practices of the royal family. If this particular session hadn’t been strictly for Willa, he’d have done more than contemplate trying out the Jenari’s paces. With a resigned shrug and a mental promise to follow through on his ideas at a more appropriate time, Brant tabled the intriguing thought and concentrated on what Willa’s mouth was doing to his cock. It was lust-inspiring, seeing her trying to bring him off while helplessly reacting to Bevel’s tongue crawling in and out of her slit. He loved seeing her wriggling and squirming under the Jenari’s slithering tongue as it reamed the tight corridors of her creamy channel. His avid gaze honed in on the feathered delta of her mons. Damn! He could see the wriggling movements of Bevel’s tongue moving beneath the thin surface of her skin. How freaky was that? Heat roared up his spine, sending a small jet of sperm spurting from the tip of his pulsating cock. “Lick her pussy hard, Bevel. Ream her little hole good.” He gritted the order through his clenched teeth, eyes glowing with excitement. “Damn, I’m losing it!” With a lusty growl he gripped Willa’s head and held her in place as he pushed further into her working mouth, forcing his erection past her tonsils. “Swallow me,” he ordered hoarsely when she gagged on the throat-full of meat he fed her. “By the stars, breathe, baby, but swallow every inch of my cock right now,” he groaned. Like the good little sub she was, she accepted him, swallowing at his command, her happy little thrumming hum vibrating the length of his shuttling cock. His skin tightened, tingling under the snug clasp of her lips and teeth. She gave her neck that little twist that enabled her to take him so deep her nose brushed the coarse pelt shielding the base of his organ. He jerked, moaning, back tensing as he drove his hips at her, all control lost in his frantic race to spew his come into her welcoming mouth. The muscles in his thighs bunched as he surged forward, fucking her face, dominating her, eyes narrowed and glazed as he watched her take every straining inch of his cock down her working throat. He hissed at the pleasure pouring through him, radiating from his buried shaft. Both hands hugged the back of her head, preventing her from backing too far off his length.

Her hot mouth felt so good, better than anything in the galaxy, but in the midst of the red haze of need that drove him, he realized she still needed more. With a sigh, he ringed the wide base of his cock with his thumb and forefinger. Squeezing ruthlessly, he halted his imminent explosion. Much as he wanted to come, he couldn’t allow himself that pleasure just yet. Pulling back enough to allow her to breathe, he sucked in great draughts of air through gritted teeth, struggling against the urge to slam back into the clinging, sweetly hot depths of her agile mouth. Fuck! He wanted to shaft her mouth hard, to feel her rubbing her nose in his pubic hair while he rode her lips. The sly smirk he caught on her pixyish face before she wiped it off made him frown in mock anger. She knew what she was doing to him! The Sprite had once told him her entire body was a marvelous instrument to be used for the giving and taking of pleasure. He couldn’t argue that. She certainly knew how to strum a tune that constantly had both Bevel-leveB and him dancing to her beat. In playful retaliation and recognition of her needs, he leaned over and applied a flurry of hard smacks to her firm rump. The cracking sounds his hand made on her firm ass caused his cock to spurt in length and girth, to dance in the constricted confines of her mouth. Head buried in her crotch, the Jenari groaned happily as he swiped his busy tongue along the wet folds of Willa’s sex. Clearly excited by her eager squirming, leveB dripped golden come from its slitted eye, swaying lazily between the open legs of its primary, overseeing the actions of both men. “Bevel, use that snaky tongue of yours to good effect. Yeah…” Brant crooned, “like that. I want our little slut screaming with need. Give her clit a hard licking, but back off before she comes. We don’t want her finishing too soon.” Willa stopped sucking long enough to moan in protest. When he felt her small lapse against his shuttling flesh, a big grin stretched Brant’s mouth. His cock leaped and come dribbled from the flanged head as he shivered with anticipation. She was in for it now. Slowly, taunting her silently, he withdrew his length out of her mouth, signaling for Bevel to stop his actions and slide out too. He grinned down at Willa where she knelt at his feet, looking up at him like a distraught baby bird -- mouth hanging open as if begging for the food withheld. He schooled his face into stern lines, his voice into disapproving tones. “I felt that protest, you naughty Sprite. Go and fetch my belt and come right back. If you dawdle, we won’t fuck you again until after the krasn fruit is loaded.” Her eyes widened in true fear at his threat. Leaping up, she flew to obey his command. Her iridescent wings fluttering in a violet, maroon and fuchsia blur, she flitted out the open door and zipped down the corridor, tiny feet dangling more than three feet from the ground.

Chapter Three

A great belly laugh erupted from Brant. He shook his head, marveling at her gullibility. By now Willa should know he could never set out to deliberately starve his little bedmate. Then again, why should she? His smile slowly faded. Corporate training was no joke. In fact, it was a bitch. Like him, Willa had been subjected to brutal years of Corporate “training.” Sprites required the ingestion of life-carrying sperm and the psychic absorption of the emotional emanations given off during orgasm to flourish. Yet it had taken her almost a ship’s month of semi-starvation before finally opening up to them. He felt humbled at the trust she’d exhibited by revealing her nutritional needs and the peculiar genetic make-up of her people. The knowledge she’d entrusted to them could spell the demise of her and her sisters. Ever since learning her secrets, he and Bevel had kept Willa stuffed full of cocks, orgasms and sperm. They’d become as excited as she as they tracked and measured the rapid regrowth of her body feathers. Her silky nest fronds had filled in first and now completely covered the little fuchsia-hued cunt he loved to eat. The next major growth had been on her head. She called those crest plumes. Her wings came in last. The first time the feathery, multi-hued glory had unfurled, the three of them had held a lengthy fuck-fest. They’d put the ship on autopilot while they tried out every position they could think of, inventing new ways they could make love to her while she hovered in flight. Two ship’s days later, they’d finally collapsed in an exhausted puddle of entwined limbs, drooping wings and flaccid cocks. Now he watched her frantically retreating down the corridor, noticing how her full flirty tail feathers fluttered in her wake. Wind turbulence parted the fronds, revealing the well-turned globes of her trim ass. He loved the way those feathers felt brushing his belly when he took her from behind or how they tickled his balls when he was cock-deep in her tight pussy. Biting his lip to hold back his indulgent chuckle, Brant clamped down on his rising ardor. Crossing his arms and leaning back against the hip-height railing in front of the captain’s seat, he exchanged a meaningful glance with Bevel-leveB before returning his gaze to his retreating lover’s lush curves. Cilia waving, leveB stiffly extended its length, raised its head and nodded at Brant. Swaying side to side, the snake-like cock gave a little sinuous shimmer -- its way of indicating amusement. Bevel turned his sightless eyes toward his captain. They gleamed with his usual teasing humor. “Oh, you are ssoo right, leveB. Brant, if you could ssee your face! Sshe iss more than a handful, you know. Sshe hass you jusst where sshe wantss you!” “Not yet, she doesn’t.” Brant absently fisted his cock, running his thumb over the seeping head while he thought of how they would all soon be reaping the benefits of Willa’s coming satisfaction. “By the time we finish taking turns spanking her, whipping her nipples and making sure she has a few strong orgasms, she’ll be ready to slurp on you and leveB until you both ejaculate. Only then will I take

her. I’ll slide a dildo up that tiny ass while I give her the rough, turbulent fucking we both need.” Bevel clapped his hands, a wide grin exposing his tentacled tongue. “Oh my, that doess ssound exssellent. Are you going to sselfisshly sspirit her back to your chamberss again, or do we get to watch thiss time?” Brant’s mood soured as he gazed at his pilot. “I’m surprised at you, Bevel. You obviously didn’t listen. This session’s for Willa. She needs more than my sexual attentions to achieve full regeneration of her plumes and fronds. They may have grown fuller in the last two months, but they still need more nourishment.” Brant watched in fascination as leveB jerked into a stiff, upright position, curved tight to the firm plane of Bevel’s stomach. The cock undulated and swayed, obviously conveying its sentiments to its primary. “Uh oh, buddy, looks like you’re in trouble now. By the looks of it, you’ve gone and managed to piss your better half off.” Bevel grabbed the mushroomed crown of his cock -- the only part of his stiff organ that was smooth and free of cilia. He couldn’t pry it away from his belly. “What did I ssay wrong?” “I think leveB knows the score. I told you this time was for Willa and my usual wants didn’t come into it. Not only were you supposed to watch, hell, you were to participate. But I don’t like your sly insinuations about my being selfish with Willa. As punishment, there’ll be no cock sucking for you and I don’t think leveB is happy about that.” Nodding its agreement, leveB angrily twitched itself out of Bevel’s grasp and snapped downward, heading toward their balls. A startled yelp flew from Bevel’s mouth. He attempted to recapture his sentient cock. “Helloss! Don’t do it, leveB!” Brant’s hand tightened on his own cock, his other hand cupping his furred balls as he curiously watched leveB burrowing between Bevel’s legs, inadvertently squeezing their balls as it neared its destination. The frantic jig Bevel was doing, trying to avoid getting penetrated by his own cock, was the funniest damned thing he’d seen in a long while. It was also the hottest. It should have been impossible to feel such arousal and humor at the same time, but Brant simply couldn’t stop the chuckles tickling the back of his throat. “Aiyeeeeee!” Bevel shuddered. He had no choice but to stand still and widen his shaking legs or suffer the pain of having his balls crushed by the sawing action of his errant erection. “I’ve told you… never in public, leveB!” Watching in lurid curiosity and simmering lust, Brant swallowed thickly as leveB relentlessly approached Bevel’s tight, ungreased asshole. Several of its longer tentacles hooked themselves along the opening of the tightly clenched sphincter. Applying equal pressure, the pseudopods pried the resistant entry open and held it gaping as the self-aware cock slithered into its primary’s ass. The width of the sentient cock stretched the resilient entrance wide as leveB forced its way deeper into the dark channel. The pseudopods released their hold as they were drawn in the wake of leveB’s deep plunge. Brant had never seen the like before. “I don’t fucking believe it!” he gasped, struggling to get the words out past shocked laughter. “Oh, Bev, you should see yourself! Guess leveB is intent on getting his head

wet regardless of your fuck up…” “Thiss iss sso embarrassing!” the Jenari wailed. He stood stiffly, legs splayed, blind silver eyes glittering with reluctant, awakening lust. His face a picture of embarrassment and arousal, he bunched his hands into fists as his body helplessly responded to his own cock digging deeply into his anal cavity. A husky cry escaped the Jenari’s open mouth as leveB seated itself with a final push. Whimpering, Bevel rocked on his heels, the muscles in his buttocks fluttering, clenching rhythmically on the thick intruder wedged tightly in his ass. A groan escaped his locked jaw as leveB began to pull out slowly before thrusting forcefully back into their dark, constricted opening. “You cannot know how I hate it when he doess thiss in front of otherss!” Brant grinned at his second-in-command and brother-in-law, baring his sharp teeth in an expression that consisted of equal parts amusement, arousal and pure curiosity. “Doesn’t look like hate from where I’m standing. I don’t think leveB is gonna let up any time soon. Might as well relax and enjoy your ass-fucking, Bevel.” Body rigid with conflicting emotions, Bevel swiveled his head over toward his captain. Face dark gray with chagrin, he lowered his chin. “Ssir… Brant… I… um… don’t know what to ssay. Pleasse excusse thiss lapsse -- leveB sseemss to have losst all -- arrgh!” Brant tilted his head for a better view. “Has Letshya seen this? Has she ever ordered you to fuck yourself for her enjoyment?” “Yess,” the Jenari hissed on a sigh. “Sshe often orderss leveB to fuck my ass when he hass finisshed taking her in the ssame manner.” Brant’s breathing escalated as excitement raised his cock belly-high. “Then I order you to accept this fucking. Let me see you enjoying it.” Shy as a virgin, Bevel shuddered as he lowered his head. He shook all over as his unsteady hands coasted up his body to cover his flat nipples. His fingers plucked frantically, tugging and twisting on his hardening tips as his hips began a languid humping motion in response to leveB’s strong thrusts. “Oh, planetary sstarss, I cannot sstand it!” His fingers pinched the stiff buttons of his nipples as his mouth hung open, allowing his writhing tongue freedom. Going up on his tiptoes at the height of a particularly vicious thrust by leveB, he lost his balance and fell forward, collapsing over his navigational console. He flung his arms out at the last moment, barely stopping his torso from slamming onto the panel. His muscles quivered with the strain of supporting his upper body as his hips continued to jerk out of control. Brant watched entranced as the alien fucked himself. The longest tentacles left outside the Jenari’s anus were writhing and swarming over his scrotal sac, plumping and rolling the balls nestled inside. “Damn and blast, you’re making me ache!” It was the hottest thing he’d seen since… he didn’t know when. Brant’s own cock hardened at the sight, jutting up thick and strong between his open thighs. Without thinking about it, he gripped his sex and began a slow pumping as he called encouragement to the sentient cock. “Oh, yeah, leveB, fuck that ass, make it yours! Oh, wait… it already is!”

Brant had never known how the alien’s earless cock could hear or understand what was said to it or about it. It did, that’s all he knew. There’d been too many instances when the damned thing had proven its knowledge. Now, caught up in the sexy scene being enacted before him, he shouted, certain it could hear him. “Fuck the hell outta him, leveB. Shaft him good. Let me see you shoot some come in that tight ass!”

Chapter Four

From the corridor Willa heard Brant’s voice calling out lusty suggestions and put on a burst of speed. What was going on in there? Were her guys indulging sexually -- without her? With each other? Her eyebrow fronds twitched into a frown. That just wasn’t fair. I thought Bevel-leveB couldn’t penetrate anyone but their bonded mate. Why, that reprobate liar! If he’s in there fucking the captain, I will have his many-tongued cock in my hungry nest by nightfall! She flew onto the bridge, trailing Brant’s wide Dinquwr leather belt, ready to slap a couple of butts with it. And froze, hovering above the deck, mouth going slack with wonder. Helpless cries poured from Bevel’s mouth as his body twisted under the powerful strokes of leveB. Sweat ran down his sides and sheeted his trim flanks. Her head turned enough to see her captain without losing sight of Bevel’s rocking hips and saw Brant’s blurred hand motion as he jerked strongly on his flushed cock. She saw him near critical point, eyes closing and mouth opening as he sucked in great draughts of air. Moisture flooded Willa’s mouth and nest. She swallowed thickly, drinking in the two males’ rising emotions, letting their lusts flow through her bloodstream. Letting it fill her hungry receptors, satisfying part of her ever-present needs. Licking her lips, Willa settled down for the show, heart thumping in response to the heady spice of the two men’s desires flooding the atmosphere. Both were panting now, eyes glazed and focused inward as they hurtled toward a finish line only they could see. Brant’s fist pumped his cock, cupping and pinching the leaking head at the apex of each stroke. His lips curled back, revealing the sharp tips of his fangs as his other hand gripped his furred balls, rolling the tender sac with a roughness that showed how close to the edge he was. Bevel’s outstretched arms gripped the edge of the console as he twitched under the relentless decobra-like strikes of leveB. The self-aware cock had over half its more than eleven inches buried in

Bevel’s ass, the sphincter forced wide as the tentacled penis dug up and in, over and over. Her womb clenching in excitement, she watched, eyes watering at the beauty of the sight. These were her two strong men, comfortable enough in their skin to pleasure themselves uninhibitedly, uncaring who might see. Suddenly she had an urge to see them indulge in the ultimate intimacy with each other. She would love seeing them fondle and please each other, fuck her between them. Her lips pursed as she pondered the likelihood. If it were the last thing she did, she would make sure it happened… soon. A male cry of surrender split the air, startling her and bringing her wandering attention back to the here and now. She swiveled to watch Bevel’s head shoot up and back, the muscles in his neck distended as he shouted in pained celebration of his climax. His body jerked wildly as leveB blasted jets of come deep into his rectum, filling him until the copious flood oozed in golden rivulets past the cock buried between his trembling thighs. Brant’s husky triumphant roar -- the magnificent roar of a mating Tygyr -- soon joined Bevel’s. Willa’s head snapped around in time to see him slump against the side of the command chair. Head flung backwards, torso bowed, his hips pumped strongly as his fist worked the rigid length of his cock. His come spewed from him in copious amounts, arcing in pulsating waves. It splattered the flat plane of his belly to drip down and coat his balls, the residue splashing onto the deck of the bridge. With a scolding growl, Willa went to her knees before him, lapping up his cooling sperm from the flooring. When she finished, she rose up on her haunches and leaned against his thighs as she licked every pearly drop from his taut belly and abs. Then she took his softening cock into her mouth. Humming, she cleaned all traces of his seed from his drooping penis. Breathing hard, Brant lifted her into his arms, licking off the small drop of semen clinging to the side of her mouth. With a growl of hunger, he covered her lips with his, taking her mouth in a voracious kiss. They lost themselves in the exchange. Turning, Brant sat Willa on the console and came over her, spreading her legs wide so he could drag his flaccid penis through her sultry heat. The slick cream coating her sex wet his length as he rubbed against her mound, drawing gasping cries of hunger from her. One hand slid down to cup her bottom, fingers trailing through her tail feathers as he lifted her against the rippling muscles of his belly. Pressed between them, his cock stirred and lengthened, filling out as it firmed into a long bar of steely flesh. “Oh!” Willa’s arms came about his torso as she leaned back in his embrace, wriggling, trying to get his cock head wedged in her dripping opening. He blocked her. Drawing back, he took his cock in hand and rubbed the swollen, aching tip in her flowing juices before pushing into her, embedding just the head of his cock in the doorway of her pussy. The heat of her arousal seared his flesh and a moan growled its way past his clenched teeth. “Your cunt feels so good surrounding me, Sprite.” They both gasped as he sank his bulbous head deeper into her sultry slit. “You’re so tight, you grip me like a vise. You make me wanna come before I even get all the way inside you.”

Willa squirmed on his impaling erection, trying to force her way up his cock. Mewling and whimpering, she circled his neck with slim arms. “Come in me, Brant. Bite me and make me scream!” “Oh, damn the stars and novas!” The shaky exclamation barely left Brant’s lips before his hips slammed into hers, ramming his cock all the way up her tight, clinging channel. “I wanted this to take a long time but the feel of your tight little cunt squeezing my cock makes me insane with lust.” He growled as he began shafting her with strong, deep thrusts. His extended claws dug into the soft flesh of her hips as he held her still before him, not allowing her the freedom to do anything but accept his lustful taking. Low in his belly, nerves quivered and tightened as he flexed his hips and drove himself repeatedly into the lush body of his Sprite. Her small breasts jiggled with each strong movement and he bent his head to capture a jutting nipple between sharp teeth, loving the helpless little sounds she made under him as she rocked her body into his heavy thrusts. Her body tensed. Her legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into the muscles rippling in his flanks as he fucked her mercilessly, sucking strongly on the hard sweet morsels crowning her breasts. Her head fell back and she moaned long and low, eyes flashing with the colors of a purple-hued rainbow. Gripping him between her thighs, she sighed, “You feed me so well, fill me so full…” He felt like a god when she convulsed in his arms, feeding from the climax he could feel building and churning in his balls. With a howl of surprise, he watched his body fade as the Tygyr took control. A huffing growl left his throat as his muscles convulsed and corded, took on another form… The Tygyr dropped to his back haunches and twisted to keep its cock buried in the scalding caldron of the female beneath him. Invisible now, he continued to fuck the Sprite with rapid, shallow thrusts that drove his cock inward with inhuman strength but eased on the outward motion. Willa howled like a demented banshee, bucking her hips up at him in reaction to the added stimulus from the sharp barbs coating his penis in this form. The tiny hooks sprang out and rasped against the inner walls of her vagina, dragging into her on each outward surge. “Fuck me harder, Brant, fuck your Sprite forever!” He roared with the excitement burning along his nerves, sizzling in his blood, shaking with the ecstasy of knowing she burned with the same mating frenzy as he. He had never lost control like this, never taken her in Ghost form. Now he chuffed in bliss, mind reeling at the sharpened scents, the heightened sounds and feelings available in this basic form. He felt powerful enough to grant her wish and fuck her forever. A snarl of possession segued into low groans and snarls of helpless need as he contorted his long body, bringing his sandpapery tongue into contact with Willa’s upthrust nipples. They swelled into stiff little peaks. The harsh texture swiping across the tender nubs hardened them more, abraded and chafed them, turning them a bright hot lilac. Her tight pussy gripped his cock, squeezed and molded it. Her wonderful muscles clamped and unclamped in rhythmic fervor, constricting the long barbed tool until he thought his tapered head would explode from the heated pressure… until his balls tried to crawl up his body and detonate against the

base of his penis… until she screamed. Damn it, he had forgotten himself. The barbs must have caught her as he pulled back to slam into her. Oh, shit! Shocked and frightened, cursing his mindless rut for hurting her, Brant wrestled for control. Forcing his body back into humanoid form, he became visible. “Oh, damn, baby, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” “Yes! Yes, please! Hurt me again, dearling. Hurt me some more…” He bowed his head on her breast, laughing quietly in disbelief. How had he forgotten the Sprite enjoyed the spike of pain with her loving? A smile stretching his lips, Brant lowered his head and took her lips, relieved he hadn’t inadvertently injured this special female that pleased all his senses -- both Ghost and substance. “You liked the Tygyr?” “Mmmm, yes. I love the Tygyr!” “But the barbs…” “Delicious!” “Knowing that you accept me in both guises, that you like the pain my Tygyr cock brings, makes me hot, makes me hard for you.” “I know. I can feel you hard and hot inside me. So big and thick… Come for me. Fill me up.” Brant thrust against her languidly, barely moving his hips as his lips gently roamed her cheeks, the curve of her chin, the hollow at her throat. “You telling me you want my come, my orgasm?” Willa tightened her arms and legs about his thrusting body. “You make me hungry. Even when I’ve been fed, I see you and my mouth waters. You can never give me enough of your orgasms… I want your sperm wet and hot in me, always.” Brant groaned. Her words burned through him, humbling him and energizing him. Resting his forehead against hers, he just let go, let his seed flow from him as his body relaxed, pressing heavily along her smaller frame. “Willa,” he moaned, curling his hips up to push his cock further into her clasping slit, “you make me weak and strong at the same time. What have you done to me? I’ve never fucked someone this sweetly -- felt such peace in the letting go…” They stilled, coming to rest against each other in an intimate tangle of tired limbs, feathers and fur as the gentle pulses of his orgasm continued to inundate her hungry womb. His heavy muscles tremored and tensed, tremored and relaxed as his balls emptied themselves in a long, drawn out, leisurely completion that left him sated and drained. Floating in the peaceful aftermath, Brant pondered the growing closeness developing between himself and Willa. He wondered what would come of this deepening attachment. Could members of so different a species find contentment and happiness as mates? Not having the answers, he sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position, deciding to let chaos take its course and worry about it another day.

It felt like eons but only a few moments had passed before a deep, ragged moan from Bevel brought his head around. He’d forgotten the presence of his second-in-command. The Jenari stood on shaky legs, one trembling hand clutching the navigational console for balance. He looked dazed and woozy. Like them, it seemed he barely had the strength to remain upright. Between his wobbling legs, leveB swayed majestically, preening his victory over his primary. With a cocky swagger, leveB dipped toward Willa in the movement she’d come to learn meant he wanted sucking. “Not on your life.” Willa shook her head, laughing. “You’re not going in my mouth till you shower. I know where you’ve been!” “Yeah!” Brant snickered tiredly, joining in the teasing. He pulled Willa up and leaned against the console, snuggling her before him. Settling her so her ass pressed against his rising erection, he cuddled his armful of wriggling Sprite. Eyeing his reeling brother-in-law with an almost jealous awe, he smiled. “Bevel, I salute you! You and leveB have just given a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘Go fuck yourself’!”

Chapter Five

Willa plunked the maintenance data strip down on the arm of the command chair with a measured twist of her wrist and glared at him, her silence more eloquent than words. Six days had passed since their special love-fest on the bridge. The sugar had all been off-loaded and paid for and the krasn fruit loaded. Brant refused to acknowledge her, knowing damned good and well what she was up to. She’d obviously caught wind of the same rumors he had heard floating about W-2 and come to her own conclusions. He shot her a secretive sidelong glance, pretending all his attention centered on the information streaming down his personal communication screen. Her mulish expression had his lips curling up into an indulgent grin. She was so open and forthright, not capable of hiding her anger any more than she hid her excitement or joy. Sometimes her actions were so innocent, so childlike, he almost felt guilty fucking her. Then she’d do something so sensual, so utterly, sinfully sexy, he’d have a hard time waiting for privacy before jumping her delectable bones. Hell, just two days ago, he’d banged her up against the cargo bay wall with only the folded metal doors between them and the haggling Wisterlandia-2 delegation. While the colonists bickered with Bevel-leveB over the price of the sugar, he’d been cramming his hard cock into Willa’s welcoming pussy. And cramming her mouth shut with his tongue. When he was buried deep inside her, nothing else mattered. It always surprised him how addictive her

heat and tightness felt surrounding him. If he could, he’d make it last forever, never leaving her slick, steamy, silky sex. Knowing Bevel-leveB could smell them, flirting with the possibility of being discovered by the buyers, had heightened the arousal arcing between them. In the end, he’d had to bite his lip -- and hers too -- to hold back their wild cries. Sneaking another peek at her now, Brant forced back a smirk when Willa huffed, shifting from foot to foot in front of him. When he gave her no response to her silent nudging, she pushed the data strip closer to his elbow. He bit his lip. She was really having a hard time trying to maintain her dogged silence. She needn’t have worried, though… her anger was coming through loud and clear. Well, tough shit. She wasn’t the only angry one. Brant gritted his teeth as he stared at the main view screen, determined not to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her. He was none too happy with her current attitude. News of a Sprite being held captive on one of the inner worlds of the Nashiri system had been whispered in his ear by one of his contacts among the colonists. The Nashiri system was only a couple of light years out from Plador and he’d already decided to make the small detour to check out the rumors. If they turned out to be true, the Quiet Kitty would pull away with one more crew than it had arrived with -- after their rendezvous with the Landresid was completed. Just yesterday, Landresi Ereh, ruling head of Plador, had sent a high-priority beam-message requesting an urgent audience with the captain of the Quiet Kitty at the conclusion of the ship’s business with the Wisterlandians. The Quiet Kitty would be making no side trips until the meeting with the head honcho of Plador was behind him, no matter what Willa wanted. Brant had learned the eternals were not people you kept waiting… not if you wanted to keep breathing. Their memory of an insult dealt them was as long as their incredible life spans. And damn it, it shouldn’t matter that he hadn’t gotten around to sharing his information with her yet. Willa should have known better -- should have known him better. Hell, they’d been in each other’s hip pocket for over two standard months. Why hadn’t she known he’d do whatever he could to help her retrieve her sisters? After all, they both had the same agenda -- to rescue their families and bring down the evil Corporation. She is questioning my honor, damn it. That’s what it boils down to. The more he thought of it, the more royally pissed at her he became. As a prime male from the ruling house of Sh’Bahkyr, he prided himself on being a Tygyr of his word. Willa’s rank show of continued distrust galled him to his soul. If she weren’t very damned careful, he’d upend her and spank her butt as punishment, not as preparation for a fuck. Let her stew!

Willa gritted her teeth and silently stomped over to her terminal. Her jaw tightened. Well, I give up! If Brant wants to pretend I’m not here and won’t talk to me that is just fine! I’ll show my disgustingly stubborn captain a thing or two about how dangerous ignoring this Sprite can be… Willa flopped down on her chair and swung it about to face her console. All lights were green and after a

cursory glance over the engine settings and wave particle condensator, she peeked over her shoulder toward the command bay. Yep, there he sat, glowering at her, his Tygyrish eyes gleaming in the low level lighting maintained on the bridge during non-emergency shifts. Satisfied she had a captive audience, she settled back in her seat, making a production of getting her tail feathers situated just so. Tilting the angle of the chair, she lifted her feet to the edge of the console, spreading her legs and fanning her nest fronds, exposing the plump fuchsia- and lilac-hued nether lips of her sex. Mouth turned up in a slight smile, she languidly ran her hands up her torso, let her palms brush over the fronds guarding her straining purple nipples. The fingers of one hand combed through the soft willowy quills, fluttering them back and forth, back and forth, teasing the tightly beaded nubs beneath until she had to catch her bottom lip between clamping teeth to bite back a lush moan. She didn’t plan to actually bring herself to climax. If she did that, she risked losing her newly acquired feathers and fronds. Without the nourishment of another’s psychic emanations, her orgasms caused her to feed off her own excitement. Her other hand riffled the fronds at her nest, dipping behind them to circle and tease her engorged clit. A quick glance confirmed her captain’s avid attention. His cock strained against the form-fitting pants he wore, the bulbous head faithfully outlined behind the stretchy material. Oh, yeah, he’s interested! But today he can go hungry! One finger twirled about the mouth of her sex, poking in and out of the small opening like a shy skyrat poking its head from its leafy home. Widening her legs, she let her head drop back against the seat as she humped her hips against her hand. A few breathy mewls and moans of lust raised the testosterone levels on the bridge. She could almost feel the heat suffusing the males as they watched her with bated breath. Smothering a smile, Willa tossed her head, let her fronds wave and flutter on her agitated breeze. She felt sort of bad that Bevel was being taunted along with Brant. He hadn’t done anything to arouse her ire, not like the captain had. Still, he obeyed every command the Sh’Bahkyr issued and never questioned him. A little frustration was good for both the males. The sound of two males moaning low in their throat reached Willa at her remote maintenance console. Good! That ought to do it! She had a hard time holding back a triumphant cry. Dropping her feet from the console, she straightened up and with a flippant twitch of her tail feathers, sauntered from the bridge. She really enjoyed the snicking sound made by the lock on her cabin portal. *** Brant straightened up from strapping a micro-sizzler to the back of his leg. He unrolled the pant leg of his uniform and smoothed the dense material until the outline of the needle-thin weapon disappeared, became undetectable by sight. “Bevel-leveB, I’m leaving you in charge of the Kitty while I palaver with the big mojo down there.” He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, exchanging a worried look with his second-in-command.

“They’ve never called for a face-to-face before and this sounds --” he paused, not sure how to explain the uneasy sense of wrongness beating at him, raising his hackles, “-- like something we want to be very careful about.” “You besst be more than careful, Brant. The Landressid are not beingss to fuck around with. And I haven’t gotten to fuck you yet.” “Tell me about it, Bev!” A ready smile widened Brant’s lips. “But the fucking’s gonna be on the other foot, pal. Or should I say, the other butt?” Finished adjusting his uniform, he gathered his courage and walked over to where Willa leaned against the bulkhead. Two days had passed and she remained silent, still recalcitrant and pouting at him. It hadn’t helped that he’d denied her request to portal over with him. She’d added his denial to her growing list of his wrongdoings, withdrawn to her quarters and stayed there, refusing to talk or interact with him. Two days of her isolationist shit was all he was willing to allow. She was his, damn it, and it was time she accepted it. Ignoring her continued snit, he snatched her up against his chest and buried his face in the sweet curve of her neck. His nostrils flared as he dragged her scent in, making it part of him. After a long moment of debate, he tilted her head back, angled her chin and sank his fangs into the soft skin of her neck. “By Sparkle, Brant, yes!” Willa’s passionate cries rang in the air, buffeted his ears, making his pulse trip and double in beat. Her head lolled back and her legs came up to lock about his hips as breathless pants and groans trickled from her slack mouth. Frantic with quickly rising lust, he gripped her ass in both hands and ground her pelvis against the hard ridge of his cock, the hardened length pressing against the restraining cloth of his tight uniform. He rubbed against her dripping slit, knowing the abrasive material would prove a maddening sensation that would electrify her swollen nether lips. His repetitive movements -- as much as the ecstatic pain of his bite -threatened to toss her over the sharp edge of arousal. He shifted her lower body away from his, finally pulling back from her throat. “Careful,” he warned, his voice a husky rumble, gravelly with need. “Your pussy is soaking and I can’t have my pants getting sopping wet, little hellion. It won’t look good if I go visiting the mighty Landresid with your arousal smeared on my uniform.” The hungry snarl she gave as she fought to retain her hold rivaled his for viciousness. He delayed returning his mouth to her neck just long enough to swipe his tongue in a raspy path across her pouting lips. “If you’re hungry, it’s your own fault. No one told you to lock yourself away for two days. Now you’ll wait for satisfaction until I return. Bevel and leveB are under strict orders not to give you any relief. This is between us, and we’ll settle it together.” He smiled at her disgruntled look before bending his head and sinking his teeth back into her, piercing her skin and sucking at her jugular. He moaned as he held her closer while he drew her rich blood into his mouth. His entire body trembled. The taste of her only made him hunger for more. Concentrating, he produced the special enzyme in his

saliva and released it into the wound he’d made. His cock throbbed, ached and grew as he drank life from her and gave his back to her, binding them together in an ancient Sh’Bahkyr mating ritual. He couldn’t fathom this sudden compulsion to mark her as his. Why should he need to? As captain of the ship, he held first rights to her service and her body. He didn’t really mind sharing her with Bevel-leveB because he knew the Jenari would never try to wrest her from him. Besides, in her depleted state, she needed more nourishment than he alone could provide. So the abrupt, unreasoning urge to place his brand on her stumped him. However, he’d been saved by listening to his intuition too many times to ignore his inner voice and right now it was screaming for him to establish uncontestable ownership. He reluctantly withdrew his fangs and backed away, cursing. “Damn, my cock’s gone hard as a stone asteroid. I want you, Sprite, but there’s no time --” “Make time!” Willa begged with a growl, pulling his mouth back down to hers. She bit at his lips and rubbed the tight points of her breasts against the soft swirl of fur covering his chest. “I love this uniform. It leaves so much of you accessible to me,” she purred, stroking her body over his in a practiced move, “but right now I want it off! You cannot spike my appetite so and then leave me hungry.” “I thought you were angry with me.” Brant caught her hands before she could open his crotch placket. A determined hand gripped the head of his cock through the cloth. “I was. I’m still angry with you and growing angrier by the minute.” A questioning frown wrinkled her forehead. “What has wanting to fuck you got to do with being mad at you?” Easing her away, he chuckled. “I’m glad to hear you think like that, because I have no intentions of ever again letting you deny me whenever you don’t get your way.” “Deny you? I would never!” She looked shocked at the very suggestion. He filed her reaction away for later study. “Willa, let go. I have to leave for my appointment. The Landresid consider lateness a deliberate insult. If you’re mad enough to get me killed all you have to do is keep delaying me.” “Answer me one question and I’ll let you go.” She smoothed her hands over the bulge rearing between his thighs. He couldn’t hide his instinctive reaction and a half smile came and went on her expressive face as she noted his helpless response to her touch. “Ask your question!” The growled curse that accompanied his order came from the depths of his soul. He glanced at his chronogram. How much time did he have before Landresi Ereh considered him late? “Why did you bite me?” He hesitated. Over at the portal console, Bevel sat with head cocked, tongue lolling -- paying too damned much attention to what was none of his business. The Jenari knew what that bite signified. Brant absently rubbed his belly where an ache had started about the same time she asked that pointed question. “I -- I… haven’t figured that out yet. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.” With a sigh of relief, he escaped through the portal. Even the thought of meeting with the powerful and deadly Landresi paled against

having to face the feminine curiosity of the female he’d just bound himself to.

Chapter Six

“Captain Prince Brant Sylenus, welcome to Plador. My family has long desired to reveal themselves to you, to interact with you according to your true status. We know your true worth, that you are much more than just a mere ‘Captain’.” Brant cocked an eyebrow. The fact that this ruler had taken the time and effort to find out his lineage seemed ominous to him. He didn’t believe the crap the Pladorian was passing out for one minute. The Landresid were rumored to be more impatient than he was. They didn’t wait for anything very long before ordering it to their side. Much like he had been ordered to show up for this interview. But since he’d been named ‘Prince’ by the Landresi, he might as well play along and act the part. But what was all that about revealing themselves and interacting? Many long years had passed since he’d moved in the circles of royalty, yet the intricacies of court procedure -- drilled into his stubborn head by his equally stubborn father -- was something he’d never forgotten. Until he found out what was really going on, he would execute each step as if he were dancing the stately court roundelays at Sheiryn Castle, the heartplace of Clan Sylenus. Bowing from the waist, he barely dipped his head in a formal nod. “I am honored to be called into your presence, Imminence.” He straightened and boldly met the searching gaze of the being reclining on a sumptuous, pillow-strewn couch. The ruling Landresi didn’t look a day over forty-five. Despite the evidence of his eyes, Brant never questioned the reports that claimed Landresi Ereh was well over nine hundred standard years old. Large pale gold eyes -- like clear honey, filled with the vast knowledge garnered from almost a thousand years’ experiences -- were deep set in a frame of long, thick black eyelashes. A high, broad forehead tapered down to lean cheeks bisected by a strong, long nose with wide nostrils. His well-shaped, full lips set off a firm dimpled chin. His thick mop of black hair, held off his forehead by a thin band of beaten gold fell in long thick waves to the middle of his back, softening what otherwise would have been an overly harsh, commanding visage. Dressed opulently in flowing robes of scarlet and purple, the male’s almost feminine accouterments did nothing to soften the hard lines of his face -- a face that carried the look of a warrior who might have strode the sands of ancient Earth. He looked like a conqueror, a modern Gilgamesh -- stern and unyielding, a giver of laws. His tall, lean body rippled with muscle, each movement smooth and calculated. At the same time, a sense of immense power hung about him, power kept leashed and held under the control of a mental discipline garnered over almost a millennium. What does this man want with me?

“It is true I am of the ruling house of Sylenus. However, my family and planet were destroyed during the hostile takeover of Sh’Bahkyr by the Corporation. Since then, I have been first a captive and now a fugitive. How could I possibly assist you?” Landresi Ereh’s beautifully mobile lips turned up in a small smile. “The more correct question is, ‘How can we assist you?’ But I am being unconscionably rude.” He stood and gestured toward a low divan. “Please, sit and be comfortable. Partake of my hospitality. What can I offer you as refreshment… some Evas wine, perhaps?” The question, far from easing Brant’s worry, caused the opposite effect. He hadn’t tasted Evas wine for over a decade. No one knew of his weakness for the potent liquor. If Ereh had done such extensive investigating, delved into his past and habits to this extent, then something other than krasn fruit was at stake. Brant’s heart rate increased. He fought to keep his expression bland and even. “Nothing for me, thank you, Landresi Ereh. I wish only to bring our usual business to a successful close.” He shifted uneasily. “Have you, perhaps, some concerns regarding our past transactions?” “No! None at all, Prince Brant, indeed, we are tremendously pleased with your fairness and business acumen. You are a pleasant change from our usual business partners. We often find ourselves having to deal with others who are not so even-handed.” Brant nodded. “I’m a firm believer that a profit can be made without gouging the customer. After all, I stand to make more in repeat sales. Draining the customer is counter-productive.” “It certainly is, yet there are those who have attempted to do that very thing.” Ereh swept his robes out of his way and settled back on the couch. “They were quickly shown the error of their ways.” “I’ll just bet they were!” Brant murmured beneath his breath, eyeing the Landresi askance. “So if you’re not upset with the way I do business, why am I here? We’ve always completed our transactions remotely, never face to face.” “We were not sure, before, if you were deserving of the honor. Recent events have proven otherwise.” “Thank you… I think.” While he spoke, he fought back a sudden anger. How dare he imply I am untrustworthy? Ereh’s eyebrows twitched together. His face went blank for a second. He took a deep breath and ordered his expression back to the smooth, placid one with which he’d greeted Brant. “Again I find I must apologize to you. That last comment… should never have been spoken. At any rate, it was not meant as an insult. If you feel I have impugned your honor, I will offer restitution.” Brant waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I have taken no insult.” “Yes, Prince, you did.” “Please, Landresi Ereh, I ask that you no longer think on it.” “Prince Brant Sylenus, length of years and power do not excuse impoliteness. My true offense was not in speaking the words, it was in deeming you less than myself. The present wisdom and grace you show

in this situation is the golden frame showcasing my gross discourtesy. Reparation must always fit the infraction.” Ereh rose from his couch, his movements graceful and eye arresting. His golden eyes warm with an emotion Brant could not name, the powerful ruler held out his hands, indicating Brant should take them. Hesitantly, unsure what was going on, Brant reached out and clasped hands with his host. Ereh’s fingers closed over his in a firm, warm grasp. “As I grasp your hand, so do I grasp your life and intertwine it with mine. By taking you into my personal family, I erase the stain to my honor.” The words rolled through the room like thunder, the sound of them ponderous and weighty, fraught with inevitability, incomprehensible at first. “What?” The shock literally knocked Brant’s legs from under him. He sagged, falling against the taller man. Ereh caught him, his muscular arms easily embracing his shoulders and pulling him closer to his chest. “From this day forth, you are a son of the Landresid of the house of Ereh. I offer you knowledge of my family name: Ehoneh.” Brant straightened away from the ruler, intently studying his facial expression. He could find no hint of guile, no indication that the Landresi toyed with him. “This… this is no light matter, sir!” Ehoneh Ereh nodded solemnly. “You are correct, donesi. It is of the gravest matter. This action binds both of you to us -- me and mine -- morally and legally, for all time.” Donesi? Ereh had called him son! The door opened and a tall, dark-skinned female erupted into the room. Brant braced to attention. So did strategic points south. He couldn’t help it. The Landres entering the chamber had the body and face of an earthy goddess: long, lush lines at face, breasts and hips. She looked Nubian, possessing the dark, exotic beauty of that ancient Earth race that had faded from the scene millennia ago. “But I am Nubian, youngling,” the woman chortled. Her face was wreathed with smiles; gray eyes glinted silver with welcome and what looked like a healthy dose of glee as she glided up to him. “I have come to greet my new donesi. The news already spreads throughout the compound.” She held her hands out, palm upward, offering a formal embrace to Brant. He countered it automatically, so taken aback he could not gather the words to respond. He blushed. “Oh, Ehoneh, at last you have granted my desires! And look… he is practically a babe! I shall have years and years with him before he is grown. Thank you!” She blew a kiss toward her smiling husband before turning back to Brant. “Be at ease, my donesi. I am Amecis, but you must call me ninomo -- mother. I know how unexpected this is --” she slanted an elegant eyebrow at Ehoneh Ereh, her mouth quirking in a teasing smirk, “I have never known my Lord to be so impulsive.”

“This once, his timing couldn’t have been worse!” Brant’s head snapped around to locate the owner of the harsh voice sounding a note of discord amid all this suspicious peace. His breath stalled at the sheer masculine beauty of the being leaning nonchalantly against the portal. This newcomer could be no other than Ehoneh Ereh and Amecis’ true son… this golden-eyed prince with smooth ebony skin as sleek as the newborn fur of a Sh’Bahkyr Ghost cub. Except for the darker tone of his skin -- a color which he seemed to have inherited from his mother -- and the fact the younger male stood a head taller, was a touch slimmer, father and son could have been twins. Right now his massive arms, corded with thick muscle, crossed a broad bare chest sporting an impressive set of rippling pectorals. Long, powerful legs were encased in a pair of camouflage combat dungarees that hugged his muscular lines, tapering to a tight cuff that folded over a pair of spacer’s boots buckled at instep, ankle and calf. A holstered blast pistol hung low on his right thigh. Brant didn’t for a moment doubt the Landresi’s proficiency with the weapon. Nor, eyeing those restless, tapping fingers, did he doubt the male’s present desire to use the blaster on him. It would seem the Landresi did not wish to have a new brother. “You are correct on both counts, Sh’Bahkyr.” The words were snarled through straight, white teeth that flashed between full, sensual lips. He exuded a brand of arrogance universal to the males who knew themselves desired and valued sexually. The man knew he was damned attractive and extremely sexy. Females of many species probably fell over themselves to get at that coiled, heated potential. Brant wondered what Bevel -- given the opportunity and the right circumstances -- would make of this prince, if he’d enjoy exploring some of that sexual potential. Hell, he wouldn’t mind watching that encounter… His thoughts skidded to a halt as he watched those manly lips thin. Suddenly he became convinced the aloof beauty could read every thought passing through his wayward mind. “And it’s not giving me much entertainment, kitty-cat. Right now I’m thinking about frying up some Tygyr-fricassee.” The Landresi licked his thick lips, moaning, “Mhmm… yummy! Nothing tastes better than sizzling Sh’Bahkyr.” Every muscle in Brant’s body tensed at the naked threat. A growl erupted from his throat even as he rocked on the balls of his feet, keeping his balance fluid and ready to move in any direction in a heartbeat. “Taelen, stop teasing and get in here so you can greet your brother correctly.” “He’s not teasing, sir.” Brant kept his eyes on Taelen as the prince pushed away from the wall and sauntered into the room. “Cease broadcasting hostility, Taelen.” Ereh’s brows drew together in a heavy scowl as he snapped the command. “Proper respect is needful.” “Respect for what? And how dare you give my family name to this… this… interloper.” “Whatever and whomever he was before your father claimed him, he is now your brother and my

younger son… my younger son, Taelen. You would do well to remember that.” “Ganging up on me, ninomo?” “You’d best remember I am your ninomo, and as such will have your obedience.” Taelen stopped short. As stiffly as a puppet controlled on a set of strings, he bowed in deep obeisance, his facial expression at once forlorn and chagrined. Brant suddenly felt sorry for him. Taelen whirled about, teeth bared in warning, face fierce. “I have no need of your sympathy, cat, only of your ship.” Ice coated Brant’s spine, stiffening it, bringing him erect with claws extended. “My ship?” His eyes narrowed. “What do you want with the Quiet Kitty? Not that you’re going to get your hands on her…” “No one wants to steal your ship, donesi.” Ehoneh glanced over at Amecis and shook his head. “Taelen is actually correct in this being the wrong time to give into impulsiveness. The boy will never believe he was wanted for other than his ship and the service we require of him. I strongly suspect my impulsiveness was manipulated. I have never given so many insults in so little a time…” Amecis bowed her head and bit down on her bottom lip, worrying the full morsel between pearly white teeth. “I might have gotten carried away in my eagerness --” “We will discuss this in more detail anon, my dear.” The blalor-shark grin that slashed across Ehoneh’s face at his wife’s admission gave Brant pause. “I was afraid of that, my Lord.” She pursed her lips and flung back her full head of thick, cottony curls. “Any consequence is worth this joy of having another son. At over a hundred, Taelen will soon spread his wings for his elder’s journey. Who knows when we will see him again?” Taelen strode over and enfolded his mother in his arms. Tall as she was, she practically disappeared wrapped in his bulky embrace. “Ninomo, you know I have at least another hundred standard years before the need shall be upon me.” Ereh snapped his fingers impatiently. “While I find this touching, I am sure our new donesi wishes to be brought up to speed. We will, as I earlier stated, deal with your tampering at a later time. Right now we need to concentrate on the problem at hand.”

Chapter Seven

“Brant, we need your help. Our family has recently acquired a new enemy.” Taelen snorted at his father’s words. “That could be considered an understatement, sir.”

Ehoneh ignored his son’s interruption. “In one stroke, we have lost our second largest source of krasn fruit and gained the Corporation’s inimical interest in some of our other less… advertised affairs.” Taelen stared at Brant as he pulled a slim bladed knife out of its hidden sheath nestled in the small of his back. “What he’s pussy-footing around saying is that the Corporation has found out just how powerful we are. They’re frightened and you know what happens to a race when the Corporation becomes frightened of them.” He speared a krasn fruit and cut into it, quickly slicing it into long thin pieces. Leaving the skin on, he popped the first segment in his mouth, seed pods and all. Another long spear of fruit went in and he chewed slowly, obviously enjoying the taste and the almost instantaneous effects. Soon Taelen’s head dropped back against the wall and his shoulders sagged as his body slumped forward. His knees bent and his legs folded under him as he slid down the wall, a crooked smile softening the hard line of his mouth. Watching him, Brant swallowed sickly, feeling dread swim up from the depths of his belly. There were hundreds of seeds in just the two sections the Landresi had ingested. Any minute now the aphrodisiac properties would kick in and there was no one here for the young stud to mount except… “Rest easy, little cat,” Taelen waved a nonchalant hand in the air, chuckling sourly, “you’re safe. Krasn doesn’t affect me as it does the normal run of Landresid. I was born addicted to the fruit. It actually turns off my libido -- or at least, turns it down enough for me to function without requiring constant sex.” “Recently Taelen was caught off-planet without a supply of krasn,” Amecis explained, gliding over to stand above her son. She stroked a hand down his rioting black curls -- the only feature he’d inherited from her besides skin tone. Voice shaking, she caught Brant’s eyes with her own long, gray gaze, sadness darkening the silver to dull pewter. “In need, he compelled three women to his bed. One was the daughter of a Corporate Lord.” “And the Corporate bastard killed her, killed the woman I loved!” Taelen struggled to his feet, hugging the wall as he fought for balance. Gold eyes gone feral, he roared his anguish and pain. “She’s dead! Her own father fried her. He was gunning for me and hit her instead.” The wall shook as he lowered his head and then slammed it back into the solid structure. “I tried to push her away but she threw herself in front of me.” Ehoneh sighed. “Attempting to punish yourself is futile, donesi. As I’ve told you over and over, this tragedy was not your fault.” “But it was. Can’t you see that? If I hadn’t been so horny I couldn’t see straight, I’d never have compelled three at once. The Lordling told the truth about that, at least.” His voice taking on a foreign cadence unlike the melodious tones the Landresid usually employed, he repeated the bitter words of his lover’s father. “The other two, they are unimportant members of my harem. Befouling them is forgivable, but my Narisse is slated for better things than to be a Landresi whore.” Self-hatred colored Taelen’s next words. “Lord Avron was right… she was meant for better things than death. I should have left her alone.” “Lord Avron?” A flash of cold hatred roared through Brant as his heartbeat accelerated and his pulse pounded in his temples. He snarled low and hungrily, fangs extending as a vision of the despised man’s

face hung in his mind’s eye. “Avron is the Corporation official you are speaking about?” “That’s right. You know of him, don’t you, little fur ball?” Taelen goaded, pushing from the wall and shrugging off his mother’s caressing hand. “You have something he wants. That’s why I want it too.” Ice skimmed Brant’s blood as he realized Taelen might be a threat to Willa. “Avron will never put his hands on her again. I’ll gut and rip out the heart of anyone who seeks to --” “Not so fast, kitten. We’ll get to the gutting and whatnot in a bit. First I want to play with him, taunt him and entice him. I want to strip him of everything dear and precious to him. Only then will I allow you to start ripping.” “Allow me?” Brant straightened to his full height. “No one allows me to do anything,” he sneered in Taelen’s face. “I answer only to my queen and you are not she!” “Take it easy, cub! You’re such a fierce little ball of fur. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I propose a partnership…” Brant was shaking his head before Taelen even finished, a wry smile quirking his lips. “I don’t think so.” “Wait. Hear me out. There’s something in it for you.” “Donesi, do not allow Taelen’s arrogance to push you into a stance you would not wish to take.” Ereh placed a calming hand on Brant’s shoulder. “It was not Taelen who asked you to meet. I am the one who will bargain with you, not this brash and intemperate boy of mine.” “Ehoneh is correct, my donesi. And this I know,” Amecis said, placing a hand on the arm of both men she considered her sons, “tempers rise easier when the belly is empty. Let us retire to the dining hall and partake of nourishment before we embark on negotiations.” Brant hung back, not ready to leave off the discussion. He gently removed his arm from Amecis’ grip and turned to confront Taelen. “I still want to know what you think you can dangle in front of me to make me even slightly interested in helping you.” The smile that widened his lips softened Taelen’s face, making it more beautiful and arresting. “How about the name of a being who knows the location of your sister’s prison?”

Chapter Eight

Replete, Brant swiped his lips with the thick napkin, tossed it on the table and leaned back with an appreciative sigh. Reaching a languid hand for his drinking glass, he brought it to his mouth and swallowed a smooth dram of Evas wine, relishing the kick of the potent liqueur. “Thank you for this,” he murmured, hefting his glass in salute. “It’s been more years than I care to count since I had a taste of

Evas. If you knew how much I missed it…” He looked around the table, meeting three pairs of watchful eyes. His new family stared at him, two pairs of golden eyes alert and wary, gray eyes soft with compassion. “You’re welcome, donesi, of course.” Brant could almost feel Amecis’ need to nurture him, to protect him. He recognized that late-cycle mothering syndrome, having benefited from it in the years before the Corporation’s hostile takeover of his planet. His mouth tightened at the intrusive thoughts of his enemies. The warm glow of Evas faded in the strength of his growing anger and impatience to find out what Taelen knew of his sister’s whereabouts. Straightening in his chair, Brant pushed his empty plate out of the way and placed his elbows on the table. Resting his chin on his linked hands he regarded the three Landresid. “Okay, we have had our nourishment and talked nice at the table. Now I want to hear what you truly want of me, and I want the location of my sister’s cage. I refuse to bargain or deal with you while you withhold such information from me.” “Taelen deliberately misled you, Brant,” Ehoneh said, throwing a disapproving glance toward his eldest son. “He does not have that knowledge.” “But I know how to get it,” the Landresi interrupted, leaning forward and capturing Brant’s gaze. “Help me and I shall help you. It is that simple --” “No, it is not! There is nothing simple about this situation.” Amecis stood up at her place and addressed her husband and son. “The two of you seem to forget that Brant is now a member of this family. As such, you cannot bargain with his happiness or manipulate his emotional needs for your own advancement. I will not allow it.” “Take it easy, ninomo. We don’t plan any lasting harm to your new kitten.” Brant bristled, baring his fangs, the ruff of fur at his shoulders standing on end. “Taelen, stop baiting your brother,” Ehoneh ordered. His sharp-voiced command broke through the gathering storm brewing between the two males. Rising from his seat, he gestured for everyone to vacate the dining hall. “We will take this discussion back to the salon.” Taking Amecis’ hand, he led the exodus from the room. *** “The bottom line is Taelen needs your help,” Ehoneh finished. A snarl interrupted him. “I don’t need him, I need his ship.” “Which means you need me, bonehead, because you don’t get my ship any other way.” Brant enjoyed taunting the Landresi prince. He loved it when the man’s mouth took on that tight twist that shouted he was trying to rein in the urge to do some physical damage.

“What I don’t understand is… why all the adoption drama?” Eyebrows furrowed, he faced Ehoneh and Amecis, seeking the answer to the one part of the equation representing their interactions. “If you investigated me thoroughly enough to know my predilection for Evas wine, you had to have learned of my feelings toward all things having to do with the Corporation. You must have pretty much figured I’d be a guaranteed answer to your present problem, so tell me why you chose… this.” Ehoneh exchanged a furtive glance with Amecis. Reclining back on his sofa, he raised one hand and scrubbed at his chin, obviously unable to find a suitably vague answer. “Well…” Looking on, his face slack with disbelief, Taelen shook his head and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I can’t stand this. Look, Brant, I will tell you what the two of them seem reluctant to admit. The truth is --” “You will be silent!” Ehoneh waved his hand and Taelen’s words died out. His lips moved silently, obviously still trying to talk, but no sound emerged. Golden eyes gleaming with anger, he finally stopped trying to get anything out and flopped down on a fat cushioned chair to sulk. He flicked his hand and light flew from his fingertips to splatter against the wall, forming the words: I hate it when you do that! “I will tell you this, Brant Sylenus -- prince of the Sh’Bahkyr and prince of the Landresid -- we did not adopt you to further our plans against the Corporation. In fact, adopting you might well prove a hindrance in such matters.” Brant smirked at the silent Landresi and asked, “Why the secrecy? What are you hiding?” “In time, you will learn everything. Meanwhile I ask that you allow us to keep that secret. We can assure you it constitutes no danger to you.” Brant narrowed his eyes. “I might accept that assurance on my behalf, but I can’t take the same chances when it comes to my ship and crew. The Quiet Kitty is the last of the Sh’Bahkyr armada, all that remains of our military might. As long as she flies, we retain a piece of Sh’Bahkyr homeland which means we are still a political entity that must be recognized. This is why the Corporation wants us so badly.” “We are counting on Lord Avron wanting your ship badly enough to make mistakes.” Released from his father’s restriction, Taelen spoke quietly, his words devoid of their usual taunting inflection. “With the added possibility of recapturing me as well as certain other cargo you recently took on, he will be positively rabid to get his hands on your ship.” “You’ve alluded to my other cargo more than once. I won’t have h -- I won’t put that in danger.” “That is already in more danger than you know. I’ve learned of a trap being set, one that will spring shut and open only in the pens of the Corporate zoo. Is that what you wish to expose your… cargo to?” A vision of a naked Willa -- rainbow plumes scattered, writhing on the deck, back bowed in pain -slammed into his head. Striding over to the Landresid, Brant grabbed his forearm. “Tell me what you mean! What do you know, Taelen?” “Take me on as crew and I will tell you everything.” Brant fell back. “As crew? Oh, stars, no! You must think I’m crazed.” He shook his head.

“Why not? You’ve got the room.” “But not the inclination,” he snapped. “I’ve seen some of your mental powers. In less than a day, you’d take over my ship and crew, leaving me captain in name only.” “My word on it, he will not!” Ehoneh promised. “You’ve seen me bind him. I can do the same where it regards you and yours. Taelen will submit to your orders as captain and will vow never to use his powers against you or against your wishes.” “What?” Taelen’s mouth fell open. “I will not bind myself with such a promise! The cub doesn’t have sufficient knowledge to maneuver in this situation. I must be allowed to --” “If you will not be bound of your own will, you will not go. I will not have you trying to usurp Brant’s position, nor suborning the loyalty of his crew.” Taelen glared at Brant as if blaming him for all his present woes. “Very well, I will vow to obey this youngling’s every order.” “And to take no initiative without my express permission…” “You go too far!” Taelen growled at Brant, who smiled innocently. “I won’t have you interpreting my orders to your own liking. Never doubt I know there’s a difference between obeying and only literally following orders.” “Your young brother is not so innocent after all, is he, Taelen?” Amecis patted her elder son’s hand in commiseration. “He’s got you pegged, dearling.” “One more thing… you are never to use your mental powers on me,” Brant stipulated. Taelen’s golden eyes glinted a warning. “Don’t question my word, Sh’Bahkyr! I’ve already said --” “Actually,” Brant interrupted, “you said you would obey this youngling’s every order. You said nothing about not changing my mind about said orders.” A slashing grin widened Taelen’s mouth, showing his healthy white teeth. “Caught that, did you, cat?” “Yeah, I did.” “Done. I’ll use no telepathic or kinetic powers against you. But I won’t promise not to outsmart you. If you can’t withstand the brilliance of my natural intelligence, that’s your own problem.” Brant raised an eyebrow. “If I can’t smell you coming, I deserve to be ambushed.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to accept you as crew. What the nova can you do?” “I’ve racketed about the galaxies for almost a hundred years. You’ll find I’m capable in a lot of different areas. I am proficient in acquisitions and bargaining, also in weaponry.” “And with you on board, we’ll probably end up getting shot at a whole lot more…” Brant murmured sotto voce.

“I heard that.” “I meant for you to.” “Boys…” They sighed, glared at each other and answered in tandem. “Yes, ninomo.” “Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Nine

The Quiet Kitty’s loading deck plates rang with a hollow bonging under the heavy soles of Taelen’s boots. He paused to look around, one eyebrow rising in reluctant respect. The ship seemed to be austere and functional yet there was a subdued beauty to the clean lines that spoke to Taelen’s soul. A worthy ship for a worthy captain, he decided. He’d seen inside the cub’s head, knew his honor and resolve. He could almost taste the hunger for revenge, the determination to bring down a hated foe. Even in that, the Sh’Bahkyr rose above baseness, for he desired the Corporation’s downfall not solely for himself, but for the safety of those he… loved? Taelen’s thoughts paused, his head cocked as he probed Brant’s thoughts. Chest rising and falling in an enlightened sigh, he nodded sagely. Yes, he sensed clearly that loved was not too strong a word to use. It was obvious to the Landresi that Brant would protect the ones he loved. Taelen frowned. That character trait of his, though admirable, was probably going to prove a hindrance in the next few days. Taelen glanced over at Brant, his face a careful blank. It was going to be very tense between them once he took the necessary action. He just hoped the little fur ball didn’t have a serious connection to the Sprite… Brant watched a silent, shielding Taelen walk the perimeter of the inner dock, the prince’s intense gold eyes cataloguing everything, alert and calculating. Nothing was overlooked. Every item of equipment came under scrutiny. His own eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the way the Landresi prince cased his ship like a burglar exploring his next target. Can Taelen be trusted? Despite his father’s assurances to the contrary, is he planning to steal the Quiet Kitty out from under me? More importantly… what does he want with Willa? He’d allowed himself to be persuaded against his will and now he questioned his sanity. What have I done by bringing this powerful prince onboard?

He’d been played, royally. The Landresid had studied him well, knowing the credits he’d been offered and the chance to bring down the most powerful Lord of the Corporation -- while tempting -- had been of secondary importance to the main lure: the possibility of finding his sister-queen. He missed Letshya. Her absence throbbed with the dull pain of an abscessed fang, ever present, never waning. She was his twin, his sister-soul. He’d felt sundered, only half a person since their mental connection had been severed. Tears welled and he fought them back. How could she breathe and not seek contact with him? With Bevel-leveB, her bound mate? Logic decreed she must be dead. Love and hope refused to accept it. Wouldn’t he know? Wouldn’t Bevel? “A nicely appointed ship, Tygyr-man. She’s powerful and sleek, spare and trim -- a battle maiden armed for war.” Brant ignored the sarcastic title, choosing to concentrate on the compliments to his ship. “She is that,” he bragged. “The Quiet Kitty is top-of-the-line when it comes to weapons and propulsion units. She carries the latest in Wave technology and multi-particle shields. Nothing the Corporation has can outrun her. She can be out-gunned, but it would take a sustained barrage of heavy artillery to breach her shields. The Kitty can be destroyed, but not taken by an outside entity.” He trained his distrustful glare on the dark-skinned male leaning nonchalantly against the bulkhead. “Only treachery from within can accomplish that.” “If you think me treacherous, why did you allow yourself to be persuaded to accept me?” The Landresi casually reached into a front pocket and pulled out a clear bag bulging with what looked like spears of dried krasn fruit. Brant’s suspicions were proved valid when he opened the bag and withdrew a handful, tossing them in his mouth and chewing. “My daily dosage,” he smirked, returning the bag to his pocket. He patted the concealed bag, a taunting grin pulling his full lips off center. “As long as I have an uninterrupted supply, your dreams of sharing my body will remain unfulfilled.” “I do not desire males like that.” “You lie. I have tasted your thoughts, seen your desire for the Jenari…” Brant waved his hand, dismissing the Landresi’s line of reasoning. “Bevel is bond-mate to my sister-twin. It is a different thing among us. A family connection ensures loyalty. When I mate, I will share her with my sister and her mate. Had my brothers lived, they too would have been welcomed within our circle.” “So now that I’m family, does that mean I’ll get to dip into any honeyed pot you pick up?” Brant bristled. “You’re not family.” “Oh, but I am, brother… and not just by Landresid law.” “You lie. I don’t recognize you.” “Nevertheless, we are legally bound. By the way, doesn’t this ship have a Sexengineer? I have some… pressing needs.” He gestured to his crotch where an impressive bulge tented the loose folds of his dungarees.

Possessive anger flared, searing his reason, tinting his vision blood red. “Stay away from Willa,” Brant snarled, claws snicking out in warning. “Willa? Would that be the owner of the cute little face pressed against the plate?” Taelen pointed behind Brant to the viewing plate set in the double thick chorionite-plated doors. “Back off!” With a last frown and glare for Taelen, Brant turned toward the door to find the Sprite hovering on the other side. Willa pressed against the panel, her eyes dancing with hungry lust, a huge, predatory smile showing all her pearly teeth. Her need brought his cock to immediate attention. “Damn, that’s all I need now,” he muttered, “a horny prince and a hungry Sprite.” It was the last thought he had time for before all hell broke loose. The airlock cycled down, releasing the inner portal, and Willa erupted through the open doorway with a glad cry. Movements so fast they were a blur, she advanced on Brant in a cyclone of wings, arms and legs, all seeming intent on wrapping themselves around as much of his body as possible. Before she reached him she was snatched out of the air. A yelp of surprise, a yell of denial, a snarl of intent blended as Taelen quickly secured the Sprite in his arms, turning his shoulder at the last minute to block Brant’s attempt to snatch her out of his arms. A full-throated roar of challenge shattered the silence, forced from Brant as he watched the Landresi press his lips to the full curve of his female’s mouth. He seemed to sink in and in, drawing from her, his ruthless lips sucking, his throat swallowing as if he pulled forth her essence and drank her down. Her body convulsed in his grasp, arms flailed wildly as she flopped about. Brant screamed in rage and tore at Taelen’s arms, desperate to loosen his hold on her. And then she was in his arms, her body jerking and shuddering, eyes rolled up and vacant. Her legs twitched and spasmed, flung out so her sex became visible. Swollen and throbbing, soaked with her juices, her labia gaped as though an invisible cock distended the lips, pressed them open and apart. Her breasts quivered under the urgency of her breathing, the tips jutting hard and high, flushed purple, filled with the influx of her pounding blood. She began to scream. The cries were raw and primal, ripped from her throat in a rising crescendo of passionate agony. Helpless to do anything but cuddle her, Brant rocked her in his arms, eyes gone feral as he locked gazes with the Landresid. “I will kill you, bastard son of a diseased race! What have you done to her?” His voice broke on the last sentence. Taelen looked down at the tableau, his own eyes glowing with kinetic energy. He met Brant’s heated glare, his expression calm, blanked, almost neutral. His voice, when he spoke, echoed his facial expression for deadness. “What had to be done.” He reached out a hand as if to touch him and Brant snarled, baring his teeth. “Back up. Back away.” His arms tightened about his precious burden. He gathered Willa up, bracing his legs to stand when shock dropped him back to his knees.

Her plumes, fronds and feathers -- all of them -- littered the deck in a drift of bright purple, fuchsia and lilac. Even her eyebrows had molted. Willa lay in a limbs-flung insensate heap, her body bare and exposed. In her frondless state, her nakedness seemed beyond what merely unclothed skin could convey. Fear rose in a black wave that threatened to rob him of reason. Brant’s heart quaked. Was she dying? NO! He would not allow that! “Bevel!” he shouted, voice hoarse with urgency, “medical emergency! Get the med unit up and cycling, set for Sprite!” He turned his deadly gaze on the black-skinned prince, standing so aloof and calm, divorced from the horror he had somehow engendered. “If she dies, so do you.”

To be continued… Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of Tales of the Quiet Kitty

Changeling Press Presents: Hot Toddies Tales of the Quiet Kitty: Holiday Dreams

Mind games… Willa is slowly recovering, but Taelen’s still on everyone’s hit list! He’s tried apologizing, but no one’s listening. If he can’t win someone over to his side, Taelen’s addictions may kill him. This time he can’t use his powers to get himself out of trouble. Or can he? Taelen has a plan. He’ll craft a holiday dream, giving the crew their hearts’ secret desires. The twelve hours before Christmas are going to be hot!

Camille Anthony

A California native, Camille Anthony now lives in the beautifully wild Low Country of South Carolina. A fertile imagination and a love of both Romance and Science Fiction fuels her writing. Her favorite stories

are those of strong, honorable people -- whatever the race or planet of origin -- who are driven by love and lust to find and do that one special someone. Camille likes her heroines feisty, her heroes dominant and her passion red hot! She loves to hear from her readers. You can e-mail her at [email protected]. Your comments and suggestions are appreciated.