Toni meets the clan she never expected...the clan she can't resist. Well, at least as far as dinner's concerned.
* * * *
Earth II
“The seal is broken. Half of what should be in this bin is missing.”
Toni waved her handheld displaying an invoice from the seller at the transport
carrier’s chief officer.
New Hope City’s spaceport was a hectic hive of activity. She
was forced to shout over the din at the Chesran in charge of his ship’s cargo.
It was just as well; she would have been shouting anyway after fifteen minutes
of arguing.
The squat green-skinned alien whose ears were as big as his
skull bared sharp teeth at her. “I told you, you have to take it up with the
seller.”
“According to the shipping officer who personally supervised
the loading of my order, all seals were intact! There are supposed to be
twenty-five more handhelds in this bin.” Toni stood a full foot taller than the
Chesran and had no qualms about looming over him in a threatening manner.
The Chesran had apparently never encountered a furious human
woman before, a female Earther who had no problem stomping him into a green
puddle. A woman who actually enjoyed engaging in major disputes. “Maybe he
lied. It makes no matter to me whether you accept the cargo or not. We get paid
in any case.”
She hated the idea of calling the officer who’d arranged for
the first of supplies for a new school to serve the incoming refugees. It
didn’t matter the head of Supplies and Requisitions was Dramok Rihep on Alpha
Space Station, through whom she’d placed the order. It didn’t matter he was her
sister’s fiancée and would put this slimeball pirate in his place.
What mattered was Toni wanted respect on her own terms. She
wanted people to acknowledge she was no one to screw over. Starting with this
asshole.
It was time to go nuclear. She pocketed her handheld and
waded in.
“Look, you little wart. You’ll give me my full order, or I
start ripping off parts until I’m happy again. Those ears, for instance, will
make fine umbrellas. This onion you call a nose is next. I’ll tear out your
lying tongue and use it to wipe my ass.”
As she seethed, she advanced on him, her hands hooked into
claws. The Chesran at last recognized he might be in trouble. He backed up a
few steps. His tone was still belligerent, though defensively so.
“Look, you lunatic Earther—”
“Oh, you haven’t seen lunatic. But you’ll feel it, I promise
you.”
“Excuse me, Matara. May I be of some assistance?”
The calm voice behind her spoke English, in the typical
slight slurring of a Kalquorian accent.
Great. Some would-be hero running to the rescue instead
of letting an equally big, bad woman handle her own business. Not me, baby. Not
Rosa Nichols’ daughter Antonia.
Toni whirled to give the good Samaritan his walking orders
under no uncertain terms. Her angry words died on her lips.
He was big, all right. Bad? She wouldn’t have bet on it. It
was an Imdiko’s gentle, open face confronting her, his expression earnest and
concerned.
What a face, framed by waves of below-shoulder-length hair.
It was as handsome as it was kind, boasting chiseled cheekbones, a straight,
aristocratic nose, and full decadent lips. There was nothing lacking in his
body either, which was clad in a green-trimmed black fleet uniform. He was
magnificently muscled where armored padding failed to hide his physique.
Toni’s mind went blank as instant attraction froze the
moment in a snapshot. She’d seen scores of stunning Kalquorians, had lusted
after her share, but no one had ever left her gaping as this man did.
“Matara? Is this Chesran giving you difficulty?”
Chesran? What’s a Chesran?
The fog that had abruptly consumed her brain began to lift.
The Chesran. Right. The thieving, lying little green shit she’d been determined
to stomp then scrape from her shoe.
“He, uh, he won’t…the bin…seal broken…supplies for the
children…”
Sweet prophets, she couldn’t get her mouth to work. She tore
her gaze from the mesmerizing sight of the Imdiko and woke up in time to notice
the Chesran turning his from her and stalking toward his ship.
Fury burned off the Kalquorian’s spell. “Oh no you don’t,
you cheat. Get your ugly green ass back here and tell me where my handhelds
are!” She stormed after him.
He hurried faster, breaking into a trot.
A black blur shot past them both, then resolved into the
brain-breaking Imdiko, who stood glowering in the Chesran’s path. The alien
yelped and jerked to a halt.
“Where is the woman’s merchandise?” The Kalquorian’s tone
was quiet, but there was menace in it.
“I don’t…we had engine trouble,” the Chesran gasped. “It was
a bumpy ride. Maybe the bin broke open and the missing pieces spilled out. I
can have the cargo bay searched.”
“A very good idea. I take it most of the cargo has been
offloaded? It shouldn’t take you more than…” the Imdiko considered. “Fifteen
minutes to find how many, Matara?”
Toni fought a scowl. He was only trying to help, though his
efforts were undermining her ability to solve her own problems. “Twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five.” The Kalquorian smiled at her then leveled his
stare at the Chesran. “Hopefully, none will be broken. Fifteen minutes?”
“Make it ten,” a heavy voice growled.
Another Kalquorian strode forward. Toni gaped at the
menacing creature who stalked up to stand next to the Imdiko.
Definitely a Nobek. She wondered how someone could be so
brutish and handsome at once. Stacy’s sweetheart Kuran was certainly a tough
specimen, but he also possessed a decent helping of civilization.
Not so this fellow. He appeared capable of snacking on
metal. His formsuit, also of the fleet variety, possessed no body armor she
could discern. It displayed an insanely chiseled physique. Displayed? More like
flaunted. The fabric of his uniform molded to the muscular swells of his
abdomen.
And other fascinating swells lower down.
He wasn’t looking at Toni, but her knees shivered as if made
of gelatin. She prayed his glance wouldn’t swing her way, lest she drop to the
floor before his power.
“I suggest you do as he says,” a third deep voice noted in
amusement. “My clanmate Wovir isn’t the most patient of men.”
Toni turned. Another fleet officer, sporting Dramok-blue
trim on his uniform. Armored, thank the prophets, though he was apparently no
slouch in the muscleman category himself. His goateed features were sharp with
sarcastic humor as he eyed the Chesran.
Damn. Three styles of delicious, apparently a clan. A
woman wouldn’t have to choose. She can take the whole platter home. On the
heels of that, Toni’s better sense spoke up. Nope. Not gonna do a whole
clan. Oh hell no.
But…damn, the temptation.
“Ten minutes. Sure. I’ll be right back.” The Chesran fled to
his ship’s open cargo area, his long tail literally curled between his legs as
he did so.
“Should I follow him?” To Toni’s relief, the Nobek’s threat
diminished as he consulted his clanmates. He was still an icon of sheer
destruction, but at least he didn’t appear ready to shred those in his
immediate vicinity any longer.
“Give him five minutes.” The Dramok’s tone was upbeat,
cheerful. “Then loom over him. Growl a bit.”
The Imdiko merely chuckled and shook his head. “You two. I
was handling the situation fine.”
“You were, but group intimidation is so much fun.” The
Dramok turned his smirk to Toni, which turned into a real smile. “Hello. I hope
you don’t mind us rendering assistance.”
“No. Thank you.” She tried to shake her dazed reaction off,
to assert herself appropriately. “Actually, I was working on teaching him to
respect Earther women. You ruined the lesson.”
“Would it help if I were to assure you of my respect? Your
threat to rip out his tongue and treat it as it so obviously deserved was
glorious. Do you mind if I borrow that particular warning?”
“Uh…” Toni’s face heated as she recalled the exceptionally
crude comment.
“It was among the best threats I’ve heard.” A slight smile
toned down the Nobek’s feral visage further…but he still looked part beast. An
admiring beast, who bowed to her as his companions did.
“Dramok Imon,” the goateed Kalquorian said. “These are my
clanmates, Imdiko Feru and Nobek Wovir. Whom do we have the pleasure of
rescuing, though she was in no need of it?”
“If you’re being condescending or engaging in flattery, you
can save it.” She scowled despite wanting to return Imon’s insanely charming
beam.
“Not at all! It’s merely how I talk.”
“Like he’s trying to sell you real estate in a swamp on the
planet Trag.” Wovir surprised Toni by chuckling, which he didn’t appear capable
of.
“In the first months of our acquaintance, Wovir punched me
no fewer than five occasions before he realized I’m not quite as smarmy as my
natural tone suggests. And Feru, who is one of the most understanding and
forgiving men you’ll ever meet…a psychologist, no less…told me to fuck off on
dozens of occasions before we clanned. He’s continued to do so since then, but
I ignore it now.”
Imon’s grin was infectious. Toni realized she was returning
it unconsciously and scowled.
Feru and Wovir laughed at her reaction. The Imdiko who’d
stolen her breath said, “Don’t fight it. Imon’s charisma has a habit of blowing
past defenses when you’re unfamiliar with him.”
“Even after.” Imon beamed.
“I’ll be on guard then.” Toni was aware her lips were
fighting to curve upward again. “I do owe you thanks for getting the green jerk
moving on my shipment. We have a lot of refugees on the way, particularly
children, and little time to get ready for them.”
“I’ve heard. This issue of the Darks has thrown both our
worlds into a mess. Our transport brought a few hundred refugees here from the
Galactic Council of Planets.” Imon’s smile lost a measure of its voltage, and
Toni thought she detected concerned kindness beyond its brilliance. “Whom do we
have the pleasure of speaking to?”
“I’m Toni Nichols, director of planetary education.” The new
title felt odd on her lips, and her tone lacked pride. She wondered if she
sounded as uncertain to them as she did to herself.
Maybe not. They appeared impressed. “An important post.
There can’t be any compromise when it comes to education. No wonder you were
determined to teach the Chesran a lesson,” Wovir rumbled approvingly.
“Nichols…is it a common name, or are you related to Earth’s
governor? Now that I’m thinking about it, you appear remarkably similar,” Feru
said.
“She’s my sister.”
“A strong family, as well as beautiful,” Imon pronounced.
“You do sound like someone who’d sell Tragoom swampland to
innocent bystanders.”
The men chuckled. “How about lunch? Dinner? A midnight
snack?” the Dramok offered hopefully.
Toni held her hands up in a stop gesture. “I know you
aren’t asking me to run off with you, but to be clear, clans aren’t my thing.”
“Are you sure? Have you tried a clan on for size?” Imon’s
charm showed no sign of waning. If anything, it increased.
Toni was also impressed that though his statement could have
been spoken as a double entendre, he’d kept it from his tone. It didn’t matter.
“No offense, but I haven’t had much luck when it comes to one guy at a time.
You’re definitely two men too many.”
Imon sidled closer and stage-whispered, “I can send Feru and
Wovir off to do errands. We’ll sneak off, have coffee and conversation.”
The Nobek rolled his eyes. “A word of warning, Matara Toni:
Imon by himself is five men too many.”
“I’m getting that impression.” She couldn’t keep from
snickering.
“One last try, then we’ll respect your refusal and say
nothing more,” Feru offered, his expression warm. “You can be assured dinner is
all we ask. Our transport leaves in the morning, so you don’t have to go out of
your way to avoid us.”
“Free meal, no strings.” Imon slightly bent a knee as if he
would kneel, his hands clasped prayerfully. “Please, Matara.”
Toni laughed. “Okay, okay! Free meals are my weakness. I
know a restaurant where the owners welcome Kalquorian customers, unlike the
dickhead Earthtiques around here. Meet me at the spaceport’s main entrance in…”
she consulted the time “…three hours.”
“Done.” Imon bowed and his clanmates followed suit, smiling
broadly as they did so. “Ah, here comes our most helpful cargo chief, and I do
believe he has your missing handhelds.”
“Thank the prophets. And you as well.” Toni was no longer
irritated it hadn’t been her to put the Chesran in his place.
No clans. No chance. But she looked forward to dinner with
Clan Imon just the same.
* * *
*
Now on sale!
All-out war has begun, with innocents caught in the
crossfire.
Former nun Cheryl Taupin and her husband Nobek Besral,
in charge of the remaining orphans of Earth’s Armageddon, watch the terrible
events unfolding in the Dark-overrun Galactic Council of Planets. Kalquorians
in Galactic Council space are being rounded up to suffer an unknown fate and
martial law is declared on many of the system’s worlds. A desperate plea to the
Kalquorian Empire sends Admiral Piras and Captain Kila to the orphanage…but how
can a lone spyship protect hundreds of children against the full might of the
Galactic Council’s warships bent on destruction?
Charity Nath has been brought to Alpha Space Station
to hide from those determined to exact vengeance against her father. Young and
irrepressible, she’s determined to claim a measure of freedom from stifling
restrictions placed on her. When her identity and location are revealed, her
Kalquorian protectors must thwart those who’d harm her while contending with
her stubborn refusal to be kept in check.
Imdiko Betra has done his best to put the past behind
him. He knows letting go of the only woman he could ever love was the best
course of action. But when he encounters Shalia Monroe again, his heart speaks
louder than his conscience. Will unquenchable desire destroy the life she’s
built, or will Betra’s clanmates Oses and Resan stop him from doing the
unthinkable?
Against the backdrop of pandemic and plague, Kalquor
and Earth II fight for their very survival against an enemy they’re only
beginning to learn the strength of. As the All tightens its fearsome grip on
the galaxy, humans and Kalquorians alike tremble on the verge of annihilation.
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