Chapter 11

11

S he didn't wait for an answer, letting the door slide shut behind her. Picking a direction at random, she started walking. The station was massive, so hopefully she could walk off some of her mood in the endless corridors and keep a low profile for a while until people forgot she'd been out all night.

Her mind raced as she walked, snippets of the previous night flushing through her mind and taunting her. The heat of Traax's gaze as it wandered over her skin and the taste of him on her tongue, the feel of his skin against her body. All of those had not hit her as hard as the way he'd looked at her, that awe and reverence in his eyes as though she was something precious and rare.

What made it even worse was that they were lies, each and every one of them. Pretty little lies while she was distracted by a package of chiseled abs, piercing amber eyes, and a husky laugh that did things to her body that should have been illegal.

She gritted her teeth, her fingers curling into fists as she walked. The bite of pain didn't bother her. In fact, she relished it and used it to ground herself in the present. She couldn't afford to get lost in the memories… to get lost in what might have been. She had to remember the reality of it. She couldn't trust an asshole alien as far as she could throw him.

The thought steadied her, and she rolled her shoulders back with a sigh, letting the tension drain away. This wasn't her first rodeo. She'd had one-night stands before. Admittedly, most of them hadn't actually proposed in the morning, but still, a one-night stand was a one-night stand. And as she had told her pilots, nobody got married to an alien, not while the One-Ten was aboard the station.

She rounded the corner, beginning to pay attention to her surroundings again. Ever the pilot, she had been automatically mapping the route in her mind—counting each left and right turn she took and noting the landmarks, as minor as they might be, as she passed them. An odd junction here, a mark on the wall there, a control panel… After the day she'd had, getting lost would be just embarrassing.

Up ahead, a group of Latharian warriors rounded the bend in the corridor and her steps slowed. Something about the way they moved gave her pause, and she scanned the corridor quickly, looking for a turn before they got to her. But there was nothing. She'd have to turn and go back the way she'd come. That would put her into retreat, a place she didn't want to be with this group.

She knew the instant they'd seen her, their movements changing like a pack of predators on the prowl. Her gaze latched on to the man at the front, their leader. He was a half a head taller than the rest of them, about the same height as Traax, and his shoulders looked like they'd been carved from a boulder. He even looked a little like Traax, but that was due to the easy arrogance and the same lethal grace in the way he moved.

Pulling her shoulders back, she kept her walk professional as they approached. She didn't slow her pace, nor did she move aside for them, walking down the middle of the corridor like she owned the place. Given what she knew of how Latharian warriors saw women, she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of cowering or slinking away like the timid little mouse they obviously expected her to be. Her chin lifted in challenge as she matched gazes with the man at the front of the group.

Surprise rolled through her. His eyes were amber, almost identical to Traax's. His nostrils flared, and a slow, wicked smile spread over his face as though he knew what she was thinking.

She nodded and made to walk directly past him, but he swung to the side and planted himself directly in her way. It was either stop or plow right into him. Not wanting to cause an intergalactic incident, she stopped, making sure to keep a neutral expression on her face.

"Can I help you with something?" The tone of her voice could have cut glass.

He smiled wider, and his gaze swept over her, lingering in places that it shouldn't. She suppressed a shudder, feeling like she needed a month-long bath.

"You are human. The human female who saved Kaaric," he said. She heard a low rumble in his voice like Traax's, but unlike the lord starfighter's voice, this one wasn't pleasing to her. "They call you Spirit, or something. Don't they?"

She stiffened. So much for keeping a low profile.

"Ghost," she corrected him. "Actually, that would be major to you."

"Humans. So funny." He chuckled. The sound sent chills down her spine. It was a greasy, unpleasant laugh, like he was laughing at her, not with her.

"My apologies, Major ," he drawled. "I am Zyax, cousin to the lord starfighter. I am one of the flight leaders here. I came to express my gratitude for your bravery in saving one of our pilots."

Her shoulders tensed at the way he said "gratitude," his eyes glistening as they swept over her again. She felt like she was the main course of an all-you-can-eat buffet, and he was a starving man.

"I was just doing my job," she said, keeping her voice as neutral as possible. "Now I have things to attend to, if you'll excuse me..."

She started to walk around him, but he moved at the same time, blocking her path again. The group at his back moved, the warriors surrounding her like a pack of rabid animals.

"What's your hurry, little human?" he purred, leaning closer. At least she thought he probably intended it to be a purr. Instead, it sounded like a growl of menace.

She stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated as she glared up at him.

He smiled. "I thought we could get to know each other better. After all, any friend of Traax's is a friend of mine."

The insinuation made her blood boil, and she had to resist the urge to put her fist through his perfect teeth.

"I think you're mistaken," she bit out. "I'm not friends with Traax. I have enough friends, and I'm not looking to make any new ones here—especially not arrogant alien assholes who don't know how to take a hint."

His eyes flashed, and his smile turned predatory.

"Oh, I can take a hint, little human," he murmured, lust in his eyes as his gaze dropped to her mouth and then further down, grazing over her figure. Bile rose in her throat. "The thing is, I like it when they put up a fight?—"

"Zyax!" A familiar voice cracked through the air like a whip, and the group of Latharians around her scattered to reveal Traax striding down the corridor toward them.

The look on his face was thunderous, his eyes molten gold with rage. Her tormentor straightened lazily and turned to face the lord starfighter, an insolent grin spreading over his face.

"Cousin Traax," he greeted, his voice jovial. "I was just getting to know your little human… pet ."

Traax's growl was low and dangerous.

"Watch your tongue," he snarled to the other Latharian, "before I rip it from your throat and wear it dangling from my braids like an honor bead."

The arrogance on the other man's face flickered for a moment. Raising his hands in mock surrender, he gave a faltering smile, fear creeping into his eyes.

"I mean no offense, cousin," he said, taking a step back. "Humans, so uncultured. They don't know how to respond to a civil greeting…"

Traax's lip curled into another snarl as he turned to her, his golden eyes sweeping over her quickly as if checking for any injuries.

"Are you all right?" he demanded, his voice harsh.

"I'm fine," she snapped. "I was about to take care of it."

Something dark and bitter flashed across the backs of his eyes, but it was gone before she could figure out what was. He turned back to Zyax and the others, anger rolling off him in waves of heat. Barely contained violence crackled in the air.

"Leave," he ordered, the words snapping in the air like a whip. "Now."

The aliens scattered like cockroaches, Zyax trailing the group. He cast a glance over his shoulder and winked at her before he disappeared around the bend in the corridor.

She was left alone with Traax, who was still virtually vibrating with anger.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me," she told him coldly.

His expression hardened, his eyes flashing fire.

"Stay away from Zyax, Zara," he ordered. "He's dangerous. Ruthless, in fact—all of the K'Saan are. Me included."

Her temper snapped, the last threads of her control gone.

"I can protect myself," she snarled, shoving him with both hands in the center of his chest. It was like trying to move a mountain. "I'll have you know, I was in one of the best fighter squadrons in the entire Earth Alliance. I know how to handle myself."

He blinked, a look of shock on his face at her outburst. Then he shook his head, frustration creasing his handsome face. "You don't understand; you don't know what Zyax is capable of. The things that he's done."

She rolled her eyes at him. Men—they thought they knew everything.

"Let me guess," she sighed. "He's a real bad boy, huh? Breaking all the imperial court rules, that kind of thing? Yeah, right. Big fucking deal. I've seen bad boys, Traax. I've tied them up in fucking knots like a fucking pretzel. So far I'm not impressed by any of your warriors."

His eyes narrowed to glittering slits, something dark and untamed behind the molten gold. Taking a step forward, then another and another… he forced her back until she was pressed tight up against the bulkhead, the metal cold against her back but the heat of his body burning her in front.

"Bad boys—is that what you need?" he murmured, his voice low and seductive, like an auditory caress that swept along her skin. "Do you like a bad boy? A little rule-breaking? Does danger get your engines going?"

He leaned in, their mouths little more than a breath apart.

"Because I can be a bad boy, kelarris ," he whispered, and the words resonated right down to her core. "Worse than anything you've ever experienced before."

She resisted the urge to press her thighs together, knowing he would feel the movement and it would give her away.

"I can fuck you up against the wall right here in this corridor, with the whole station as my witness. I'll mount you like the warriors of old, take you right here until your screams echo in the hall and everybody aboard knows my name."

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath hitching as his hand slid up her thigh. Heat rolled through her from his touch, settling into a molten ball of desire in the pit of her stomach. A savage ache started up between her thighs as she remembered how good it had been last night.

"Do you want this?" he asked, his voice little more than a wicked whisper of temptation against her lips. "Do you want me to stake my claim for all the station to see?"

Oh god, she did. God help her, she wanted that. She wanted him again. But not like this. Not in anger, and certainly not as some kind of pissing contest between him and his cousin. It would cheapen what they'd had, even if it was just a one-night stand. She didn't want what was between them to turn into yet more gossip for the station grapevine.

Swallowing hard, she summoned the last remnants of her willpower and pushed him away. It was hard, especially when she ached for him to kiss her again.

"I don't want anything from you," she said, her voice croaky, "except maybe to get the hell out of my way."

Something flickered in his eyes, a hardness and a ruthlessness. At least that's what she thought it was, but it was gone before she could really analyze it. His hands dropped, and he stepped back, the loss of his heat leaving her aching and empty. It was all she could do not to pull him back against her.

"As you wish," he said, his voice cold. "But Zyax is not the kind of male you should mess with."

She snorted and pushed off the wall.

"I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me," she threw over her shoulder. "Thanks all the same."

Lifting her chin, she walked away. His gaze burned into her back, but no way was she going to look back.

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he got under her skin. Not ever again.