Chapter Ten

“Or a lifetime. I can’t see a future where I’m unafraid.” His head bowed in shame.

Codab gripped his shoulder and squeezed, as if he could infuse his son with his own strength and make him the man he might never be. “The trauma is still fresh. You have to give yourself the opportunity to heal.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.” Codab’s tone held a certainty Ilid didn’t share. “For the present, Diju means well, but don’t let her worrying rush you into a relationship. As I said, you’re young. It’s early for you to be thinking about finding clanmates.”

“Mother doesn’t think so. She hasn’t heard the first real detail where Mitag and Detodev are concerned, and she already wants me to clan them and Jennifer.” As Ilid spoke, a jab of regret shot through his chest. The pain surprised him into thinking about such a scenario seriously.

It only lasted a moment. No, he didn’t know the two men he’d met at the bar well enough to consider such a future. What hurt was realizing he probably had no chance of clanning either of them even if they turned out to be perfect.

Diju would have been enthralled to realize Ilid had always considered the ultimate relationship to include a full clan. He’d wanted what his parents had: full commitment and regard and support for each other. They belonged to an era in which clanship was forever, and they’d committed to their arranged relationship fully. The old Ilid hadn’t been able to conceive of anything less than what they’d forged.

That had been before his capture by the Darks. Before his ability to function as a Dramok had been shattered by terror and helplessness.

“Your mother doesn’t necessarily wish you to clan tomorrow. She wants reassurance if and when we leave you on Haven, you’ll have the support of people who care for you,” Codab said.

“I can bake and hire help fine without lifelong companions.” Ilid managed a wry chuckle.

“You aren’t here merely to run a bakery and recover from what happened. You’re here to build a network of those you can count on when you need help in any area of your life. I’m talking about living , my son. Really living. It’s time to move on from merely existing in the wake of what happened.”

“I wonder if I can.” He’d thought he was doing better. The constant search for living shadows in the bar that night, however…

“Making friends is part of it. Jennifer is a good start. Perhaps Mitag and Detodev will be men you can turn to, whether as eventual clanmates or merely friends.”

Codab made sense. Ilid was able to nod and agree with what he said. Friends would be wonderful. Perhaps Mitag and Detodev could fit as such.

But never clanmates. Ilid wasn’t Dramok enough for them, or any Kalquorians.

* * * *

Mitag lay still, recognizing the least twitch would wake the man curved along his back. He listened to the Nobek’s even breathing.

Despite the multiple releases he’d enjoyed during their romp, he couldn’t settle into slumber. He couldn’t calm the excitement keeping his brain avid long after Detodev had dropped off.

Detodev, Ilid, Jennifer. And Mitag. Nobek, Dramok, Matara, and Imdiko. An excellent setup for a traditional clan. It was everything he wished for. Perfect, should the four of them fall in love.

If only Detodev weren’t so stubbornly distant. Ilid too. He showed signs of being nearly as bad. The Dramok’s was a warmer personality, and he was considerate to a fault. However, replaying the evening, Mitag realized Ilid had shared little of his past. Or himself.

What had Mitag learned of the Dramok? He was claustrophobic and wanted to run a bakery on his parents’ behalf. All other questions had been deflected. Ilid had managed conversation so well, Mitag hadn’t picked up on his full reticence until he’d thought it over.

Mitag had long wondered why Detodev resisted most attempts for closeness. It wasn’t only the Imdiko he fended off. Detodev was a solitary beast, except when sheer loneliness brought him to Mitag’s or the rare Earther woman’s bed.

Now Ilid. What had happened to make the two men so aloof? Or were they secretive? If so, what could they be hiding?

Maybe Jennifer’s heard the story on Ilid. He dotes on her. I wonder if he’s confided his past to her. She’s met his parents. She has to know the backstory.

She was an open book, at least. She’d laughed at the college prank responsible for bringing her to Haven, though she expressed regret at injuring her professor. She’d shared her positive impression of Clan Amgar and her decidedly less complimentary assessment of Haven. Which could be a problem where his hopes were concerned. Mitag and Detodev were firmly established in Sunrise. Ilid looked likely to stick around too.

If Ilid were to stay, if a romance could be sparked between the four, would Jennifer reconsider returning to the planet once she finished her interrupted studies? Mitag had the feeling to make such a scenario happen, Detodev and Ilid would have to crawl from behind their barricades. They’d have to open up.

It wasn’t as if they had real reasons to hide their pasts. At least, not reasons as profound as Mitag’s. For the chance at the love he’d never had, he was willing to share his past horrors. He’d revisit the infamous tragedy and scandal that had been tremendous fodder for news vids if the compelling people he’d met would share their histories too.

* * * *

It was too early in the morning to be sociable, especially before coffee and after drinking the prior night. Nonetheless, Charity did her best when the hulking human in the law enforcement uniform stopped by the farm to introduce himself.

“I hope this is all right by you,” Assistant Chief Wilkes told Groteg, who’d answered the door and ushered him in the kitchen where the clan, their children, and Charity were readying for the day. “I’m not in the habit of poking my nose in where your rescues are concerned, but since Ms. Seng is human…”

“It’s appropriate,” Groteg agreed. “Jennifer should be able to rely on all law enforcement should anything go wrong.” He made the introductions.

“Nice to meet you.” Charity shook the smiling man’s hand and marveled at how he was as big as a Kalquorian. Sure, there were tall humans, but few had the muscle and bulk of their cousin species. “I promise not to pillage any fields or cause much mayhem.”

“Then we’ll get along fine,” Wilkes laughed. He accepted a cup offered to him. “Oh, thank you, Sara. Never too much coffee.”

“I’ll say,” Charity mumbled as she took her first sip and glared at Tori. If it hadn’t been for her exuberant young friend crashing in her room at the crack of dawn and demanding a rundown of Charity’s night out, she’d still be sleeping.

Unaware, the girl shoveled the eggs Imdiko Utber had ladled on her plate in her gaping maw. “Jennifer went on a date last night. She’s so popular, three men brought her home.”

“How do you know that, young lady?” Sara’s face flushed as scarlet as Charity’s.

“I stayed up and watched from the window. One of the guys was Detodev, of all people.” Tori grinned at Charity. “He can be grumpy, but he’s always been nice to me. He built me a dollhouse when he lived here.”

“You stay in bed next time. You need your sleep,” Groteg mildly rebuked.

“It wasn’t a school night. I don’t understand why I have to go to bed so early.” Tori’s curiosity-bright gaze flashed at Charity. “Are you going to join a clan? The third man was Imdiko Mitag. He throws all the best parties in town.”

Charity rushed to explain to the too-interested Wilkes, feeling her reputation flushing down the toilet. “Dramok Ilid…he came on the same shuttle I did…anyway, he and I went out as friends to Bar, Bowl, and Barrel.” She glared at Tori again and pretended she didn’t notice Adam’s heartsick expression. “We saw Nobek Detodev, who introduced us to Imdiko Mitag.”

“Detodev and Mitag are your age,” Wilkes observed. “Nice guys. Hard workers. I have yet to meet this Ilid fellow.”

“He seems decent enough. His family is considering buying Bertie Boynton’s bakery.” Groteg wiped up the milk James spilled on the table.

“They insisted on seeing me home, but I kind of got the idea they might continue their night out after offloading me,” Charity went on.

“They were legally sober to be shuttling around?” Wilkes narrowed his eyes at Groteg, but his smile said he wasn’t worried about the matter.

“Ilid was, and the shuttle was his family’s rental. Just in case, I gave them directions to your house and told them if they felt the urge to crash their vessel, that’s where it needed to happen.”

The pair laughed. Wilkes drained his coffee and looked in his empty cup. “Any chance I can be a total mooch and snag a second?” He shot Sara an appealing smile as he nodded at the fresh pot sitting in the coffee maker.

She chuckled as she mopped up more milk James had spilled. The kid had issues getting the glass to his mouth before attempting to drink. “Of course. Just give me a moment.”

“No need. I can pour it myself. You look like you could use another cup too, Jennifer. Is it okay if I call you Jennifer?” He snagged Charity’s cup and headed for the elixir of life.

“Sure. I’ve been called worse.” She yawned and offered heartfelt thanks to Utber, who brought her a swala omelet and crispy baked ronka strips. She felt as pampered as a queen, being served breakfast.

A little more conversation followed, which thankfully wasn’t centered on her night on the town. She happily tucked into the insanely incredible food. Utber deserved to be worshiped as the kitchen god he was, she decided, while talk rose and fell in the background.

A few minutes later, Wilkes bid them goodbye, ready to start his shift. “Easy day,” he chuckled as he headed for the door. “All those celebrating the weekend last night are tucked in bed. They’ll be too hung over to be a bother until sunset. By then, I’ll be home in front of the vid. Are you watching the game tonight, Groteg?”

The Nobek accompanied his law enforcement counterpart to the back porch as they discussed the start of kurble season. Utber offered Charity extra ronka.

“No, you devil. You and your delicious food can keep your distance. What I mean is yes, and my expanding waistline is all your fault. They’ll have to roll me to my shuttle when it’s time for me to leave Haven, thanks to you.”

Utber laughed as he set the crispy slices on her plate. He shooed the kids toward the stairs. “All right, gang, get ready for softball practice. We leave in twenty minutes.”

* * * *

Wilkes headed for town, his shuttle hovering low along the travel lane. He smiled to himself, pleased by his work.

He’d walked in Clan Amgar’s home, his private handheld device already recording audio. He was certain he’d gotten plenty of Jennifer Seng’s voice to have it analyzed and compared to the few samples his contacts possessed.

None of it would be one hundred percent confirmed to be Charity Nath. What had been recorded before had come from when she was quite young. Still, certain vocal patterns and idiosyncratic details would offer him some clue as to the probability of whether Jennifer and Charity were the same woman.

The audio recording had been only a backup if he’d been unable to claim better evidence. Since he had, her voice imprint wasn’t terribly important, just a little added support for any verification.

What mattered were the fingerprints and DNA he’d gotten from her coffee cup as he’d refilled it. If she was Charity Nath, he’d soon find out.

“You can run, and you can hide, but the truth will be revealed,” he chuckled. He was damned near giddy at his success under Groteg’s very nose. He was still laughing when he reached the office.

Chapter Seven

Charity waited to pester Sara until Utber and the kids had left for their softball league practices and Groteg had departed for the fields to inspect their progress. It was the weekend, but farmwork apparently never took a break. Sara was humming as she set the kitchen to rights following breakfast. She directed Charity where things should go as the younger woman tried to help. Charity had the feeling she was slowing her hostess down, but she certainly wasn’t going to sit at the table and sip coffee while Sara did all the work.

“Detodev,” Charity said as she put cups in a cabinet. “What’s the gloomy guy’s story? He has all the warmth of a brick, but there are moments he acts as if he’d like a better connection to his fellow man.”

“Hmm.” Sara considered, darting an evaluating glance at her ward as she did so. “Well, his is an interesting story, but it isn’t my place to tell it to you. You’ll have to get it from him, if you can convince him to tell it to you. He is the silent type…but once you know him, he isn’t a cold fish at all.”

Charity was certain she didn’t imagine a shadow of sadness on Sara’s face as she talked of the Nobek. “I probably won’t hear it then. You can’t give me a hint?”

Sara smiled and shook her head. “He trusts me to keep his secrets, as you do.”

“Then you shouldn’t tell me. I do hate a mystery, though. What weakness I can exploit to gain his confidence? Food? Money? Lots of pretty knives? Nobeks love those.”

Sara chuckled and sidestepped the question. “The plates go up there, next to the cooling unit.” Following a few seconds of silence, she added, “Be his friend. I know he doesn’t exactly invite it—”

“He probably has a moat surrounding his house. Filled with alligators. And sharks.”

“He’s standoffish, but there’s a kind man under his shell. I’d be thrilled if you were able to draw him out of it. He needs friends.” Sara suddenly swung to face her. “You’ve given me an idea. Invite the gang to dinner tonight.”

“All three? Ilid, Detodev, and Mitag?”

“Sure. Utber’s too busy shuttling the kids around to their activities to cook, but Detodev adores my pork tenderloin. We’ll roast some potatoes…I think Utber froze some wedi sauce. It’ll go nicely on the spuds.”

“Can I help? I can bake a pie. Wait, we’re talking Kalquorians. I’ve seen how much they eat. Two pies. Oops, you have a teenage boy and James the Food Tornado. Three pies. What fruit do you have I can use? Do Kalquorians like fruit pies?” Charity jabbered, excited at the notion of baking for her new friends. They probably thought an astronomy student with a supposed penchant for blowing up labs had never set foot near an oven.

Sara grinned. “A few baskets of strawberries and blueberries were dropped off a couple days ago. I made most into jam, but there’s probably enough for three pies.”

“Perfect! Okay, where can I set up?” Charity looked at the myriad surfaces where she might assemble her contributions to the meal.

“Hold on. You haven’t done any of your schoolwork since you arrived. You may not be on punishment detail for real, but you won’t let your studies slip. You have a few hours you can concentrate on your courses, then you can work on the pies.”

Charity felt a rush of warmth to be mothered by Sara. “I’ll get on my lessons once I’ve talked to Detodev. I overheard Groteg say he’s in the west field. Can I take the hovercart again?” She headed for the door.

“You don’t have to go to him. You can com him the invitation, same as the other two.”

“Ha! He’ll see my frequency and never pick up.” Charity was certain the Nobek was the type to regret having hung around her last night. He’d avoid her for at least two days if he could.

Before the door to the back porch closed behind her, she heard Sara confirm her suspicion by muttering, “Yeah, that’s what he’d do, bless his heart.”

* * * *

“Replacing doohickeys and whatchamacallits again?” Charity hopped off the hovercart and trotted to Detodev.

He awarded her the briefest of glances. He dismissed her and bent to the field monitor spilling its guts on the tilled ground where he knelt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never heard of such components.”

“Crabby. You look tired. How late did you guys stay up? Where did you go after you left? Was it somewhere fun? Did you crack a smile?” She flopped down to sit cross-legged beside him.

“Ilid dropped us off. His parents were expecting him, he said.” Detodev tossed his head to swing the long braid hanging over his work out of the way. “Do you always ask a hundred questions and refuse to let someone answer?”

“Sometimes I ask a thousand. You’re cleaning the circuit board?”

“They get gunked up faster than anything else. Half the breakdowns are due to dirt getting in the circuit boards.”

“Show me and I’ll help.”

“You?” He finally looked at her.

She scowled at his disbelief. “What do you mean ‘you’? I can handle delicate objects. Have you ever manually calibrated a priceless antique cadioptric telescope? I have, thank you so much for asking. I’ve also disassembled loads of telescopes and put them together again. By hand.”

“Wouldn’t have figured you for the manual labor type, starry-eyed college girl. Don’t you have the heavens to gaze at?”

“Stop making my eyes roll so hard at your obvious attempt to convince me to leave. I’m getting a headache.”

She watched him dip a brush barely bigger than a sewing needle in a solution to clear grit from the circuitry. She selected a similar brush and tweezers from the folding leather case next to him. She used the tweezers to extract another paper-thin circuit board from the field monitor, laid it delicately on her pantleg, and set to work. She glanced at how Detodev performed the task from time to time to make sure she was cleaning it properly.

After a minute, he used his set of tweezers to pluck the board from her custody.

“Hey! I’m not messing it up.”

Detodev looked at it closely and grunted. He set it on her pantleg again. “No, you aren’t. You’re actually doing a pretty decent job.”

Wait until you see how I bake a pie, you big grouch. You’ll literally eat your words. “I’m a fast learner. I also spent a lot of time assisting my sister on her projects. She builds micro machines. We’re talking nanos you have to look at through a microscopic holo. I bet I can solder faster than you and with greater precision.”

“I’m happy for you. Don’t you have anything else to do?”

The man who’d hovered at the edges of their bar group and had occasionally darted in their midst was clearly gone. He wanted her gone too.

Tough cookies, jerk . “You realize the more you try to scare me off, the more I’m likely to hang on like a tick?” She resumed cleaning.

“What’s a tick?”

“Oh joy, they didn’t revive those horrible little monsters. Score one for Haven.” Her com buzzed for attention, and she set her work down before grabbing it from a pocket. “Hey, it’s Ilid! Hi, Ilid. I was about to com you.”

She was aware of Detodev gazing at her. “No, you weren’t. You were cleaning a circuit board.”

“Well duh, I was going to com him when I was done. Ilid, you’re on speaker, by the way.”

Ilid chuckled, his deep voice giving her a pleasant shiver. “Is that Detodev?”

“His evil twin. Nice Detodev is apparently hibernating.”

“Oh, sorry to hear it. Hi, Evil Detodev.”

“Hello, Ilid. Feel free to take her somewhere I’m not.” The Nobek sighed.

“Miss Behavior giving you a hard time?”

“Does she do anything else?”

Charity blew him a raspberry and concentrated on the laughing Ilid. “Anyway, Ilid, Sara invited you here for dinner tonight, here being the farm in case you didn’t guess where I am. Pork tenderloin and I’m baking berry pies.”

“Sounds good, I guess. You know I’m unfamiliar with most human food, though my mother bakes a type of berry pie called aserch .”

“You’ll love the strawberry and blueberry version.” Charity drew out the word love to ensure he understood how amazing it would be. “You’ll worship those who fed you such an amazing meal.”

“Okay. Should I bring anything?”

“I’ll ask Sara, but she didn’t mention you needing to. If you don’t hear from me beforehand, assume you just need to bring your appetite.”

“Will do. Thank Matara Sara for asking me.”

“Hey, you commed me. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you were busy tonight. I guess my question’s been answered.”

“Never make assumptions when it comes to me, my fine Dramok. I’m to distract Sara’s clanmates while she woos you. I told you the dinner invitation was her idea. I think her wandering eye likes the looks of you and Mitag.”

“Mother of All,” Detodev muttered. He looked scandalized.

Ilid laughed at her teasing. “Is Mitag going to be there?”

“I’m comming him after Detodev and I are done autopsying this field monitor. No problem where Mitag’s concerned, I hope?” She fished for information of what the trio had done once they’d dropped her off. She doubted Detodev would tell her anything.

“None. He’s a nice guy from what I could tell.”

“And?” she prompted.

“And what…oh, I took him and Detodev to his house.”

“Which I told you,” the Nobek whispered between gritted teeth.

“You didn’t say you went home with Mitag. You made it sound like you each went to your respective abodes…not that it’s any of my business.” Charity returned her attention to Ilid. “The pretty Imdiko failed to ensnare you, Dramok?”

“Thank goodness. I went home and found my mother waiting up for me.” It was Ilid’s turn to sigh.

“She loves her widdle boy.”

“Don’t start, Miss Behavior.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mommy’s big, strong Dramok.”

Following a few more joking insults, they ended the com. Charity’s gaze met Detodev’s scowl.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have said what you did about Matara Sara. It wasn’t respectful.”

“I was teasing, and Ilid knew it. By the way, she expects you to come to dinner too.” Charity set the circuit board she’d been cleaning on the square of fabric Detodev had laid out for his work.

“I can’t.”

Charity put the tools she’d been using away. “Can’t or won’t? She says you’re a big fan of her pork tenderloin.” She clicked her com.

“It’s excellent, but—”

“Hi Sara!” Charity interrupted when the woman answered. “Quick question: do you want the guys to bring anything for dinner?”

“No, it’s all right. We have everything covered. Are they all coming?”

Charity rose gracefully to her feet and stepped out of the Nobek’s reach. She headed for the hovercart. “Two out of three so far, Ilid and Detodev. I still have to com Mitag, which I’m doing now. Heading in as I com, so I’ll be there in a few!”

She stuck her tongue at the glowering Detodev as she set the hovercart in motion. “See you tonight, Grouchy. Don’t be late. It would hurt Sara’s feelings if you were.”

She skimmed back to the farmhouse, smiling broadly at the snarled curse that chased her. “He’ll thank me later.”

* * * *

“But they’ll be charming. Unexpected. Ironic.”

Mitag gazed at the hall where several tables for six had been set out, topped by gleaming white covers and elegant centerpieces of flowers and candles. He did so thoughtfully, as if seriously weighing the prospective bride’s suggestions.

He gathered all the diplomacy at his command. “It would be unexpected indeed. However, your guests will be dressed in formal attire. You stipulated they wear black tuxedos and gowns, so you and the wedding party would stand out in your white and silver. Using haybales as chairs, while incredibly ironic at a swanky reception, will result in everyone covered in chaff. They might be less than happy about the mess and the cleaning bills as a result.” At her dubious expression, he added, “It’ll look terrible in the stills and vids. All the hay on the dark fabric will stand out.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it would.” Matara Selene…“Matara Selfish,” in Mitag’s head…had shown little concern for how her guests would feel when it came to her ceremony and reception choices. It always came down to how her big day would look.

Whenever Mitag pointed out how her decisions impacted others, it always came back to “But it’s my special day.” Consideration for her family and friends and future in-laws be damned. She was paying the price for her self-absorption. What had started as a guest list of three hundred was down to one-twenty-six. Mitag had a feeling it would be far lower before the nuptials in a few days. Her demands on her guests continued to become narrower and more frivolous.

She was paying a high price to him as well. Despite the falloff in attendance, he’d begun adding to his fee in an effort to rein in the impulsive rustic design choices she made by the hour. Haybale seating was her latest effort to drive him bonkers.

He’d somehow managed to render palatable the chicken wire arch she’d decided she couldn’t live without by weaving in white tulle ribbons and roses treated to appear fresh for weeks. Hay was another matter entirely, however.

The event had begun as “elegance to rival a big-city wedding,” as Matara Selene had expressed during their initial consultation. However, the lifelong farmgirl seemed determined to devolve her sumptuous vision. No doubt Jennifer would have declared it a Planet Farm Hell Black Tie and Tails Hoedown.

Mitag managed to talk Selene out of the haybales for seating and riding her favorite farm horse into the hall. “Manure on the floor also isn’t what you want in the vid” was the deciding factor on that idea. He’d been ready to strengthen his argument by noting the guests puking at the sight and smell alongside their dinners would also result in poor recordings. Fortunately, she’d seen the wisdom of making the groomsmen pull her and her betrothed in an old-fashioned horse cart instead. Mitag was pretty sure he could get the rig decorated nicely in time for the festivities.

He escorted her, her giggling maid of honor, and her eye-rolling mother to the hall’s door. Selene’s mother had long given up on debating her choices by then. At this point, she was simply there to watch Mitag handle her daughter as best he could. “I’m always tempted to bring popcorn for the show,” she’d whispered to him a week prior. When he bowed to them as they said their farewells, she grinned and silently applauded behind Selene’s back

As soon as the door shut behind them, he unleashed an extended sigh.

“I could still hire myself out as a waste tank scrubbing sponge at the sewage treatment center,” he said to the silently waiting assistants he’d hired to set up the room.

Chuckles brightened their sympathetic faces. He dismissed them for the day and thought about finding a barn to hide in until Selene’s wedding day was over.

His com buzzed. He brightened to see Jennifer’s frequency. Maybe the day was looking up. “Hi, gorgeous. Are you ready to run away with me and make all my dreams come true?”

“Ha! You’ll have to settle for dinner tonight at Clan Amgar’s. Ilid and Detodev will be there. I’m baking the dessert, so I’ll take a no from you personally.”

His heart skipped a beat. He heard the eagerness in his tone and didn’t care. “I’m as good as sitting at the table right now. What can I bring?”

* * * *

“It’s her. DNA, fingerprint, and vocal analysis confirm Jennifer Seng is Charity Nath.”

Wilkes gloated as if he’d personally brought the traitor’s daughter to Haven. He couldn’t help it. So much of his work as an informant to the leaders of Mercy and New Bethlehem had been strictly reporting which humans had joined Kalquorian clans or given birth to hybrid babies. He’d begun to seriously question what benefit it was to traditional God-fearing Earthers to know such matters. It wasn’t as if they could stop the sins of so many.

None of the Earther colonies had space fleets designed to defend against or attack enemies. After the original Earth had been lost and their battlecruisers had been confiscated by the Galactic Council of Planets ten years prior, they’d had to rely on the member planets of the governing body to defend them from attacks, mostly by Tragooms. Only Earth II had been given permission under its Kalquor-loving governor Stacy Nichols to develop a defensive fleet. The fleet was yet to take shape, however. The new Earth was currently dependent on the goodwill of other species to keep them safe. It would mean years for humanity to resume its sovereign status as a fully liberated people.

Discovering Holy Leader Browning Copeland might still live and was being kept prisoner by the Kalquorians and the former Earth general Borey Nath would prove humans had been treated unfairly. It might result in financial assistance from planets unaffiliated with the Kalquorian Empire, loosening the Earthers from their true enemy. The idea he could have a hand in restoring his people to the path they belonged on excited Wilkes.

Governor McCarthy sounded on the brink of religious fervor in his enthusiasm. “You must capture her and fly her to New Bethlehem. It could finally swing matters here on Mercy in our favor. We could put down this damned rebellion and jail those behind it indefinitely. At any cost, Wilkes. Do you understand? No matter who you have to kill, get Charity Nath.”

Chapter Eight

Mitag walked through town, thinking about buying a new shirt for dinner at the Amgar farm. He had plenty of nice outfits, but were any perfect to impress a lady of Jennifer’s worth? He should find something extra special.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the other new face in the district. Dramok Ilid headed his way. Mitag’s bright grin was answered by a more restrained but entirely pleasant smile from the handsome young man.

When they were within a few feet, they exchanged bows. “I’ve been informed we have a dinner date tonight,” Mitag enthused. “I was planning to com you to see if I could offer you a shuttle ride. It’s only fair since you were so kind to pilot Detodev and me last night.”

“I’d appreciate it, thanks. My parent clan plans to go out. They were going to drop me off at the farm, but your offer will free them up.” Ilid changed direction and fell in step with Mitag.

The Imdiko was thrilled to have him as a companion. “Where are they off to?”

“The next district over has a Kalquorian restaurant they heard was excellent.”

“They must be eating at Etariz. It’s definitely worth an hour’s flight.”

“That’s the place they mentioned. I’m relieved you think it’s good. The dinner is a celebration. They’ve decided to buy the bakery if its current owner agrees to their offer.”

“Then you’ll be staying!” Mitag beamed and barely kept from grabbing Ilid’s arm in delight. “What great news.”

“I’m glad you think so,” the Dramok laughed. He glanced at Mitag, then his gaze slid aside, as if checking for something or someone. He’d done it quite often the night prior, Mitag realized. Hadn’t Detodev called him on it?

He was distracted from the notion as their eyes met. He bubbled, “Hey, as the owner of an event planning business, I could stage the bakery’s grand opening for you. We can make it a huge occasion to introduce you and your work to the community.”

“I can see how it would be an excellent promotional opportunity,” Ilid acknowledged. His tone was warm, but his attention had shifted from Mitag to their surroundings…searching, searching, searching. As if he expected trouble to jump out at him from each doorway they passed.

“What’s his name?” Mitag asked.

Ilid regarded him in surprise for an instant. He glanced again to just over Mitag’s shoulder. “What’s whose name?”

“The Imdiko who’ll punch me and give you an earful after seeing us together. You keep checking for someone, so I have to assume...”

Ilid uttered an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry, Mitag. I’m being rude. I think I mentioned I had a bad experience while I was in the fleet. It goes beyond mere claustrophobia, I suppose. I can’t seem to stop checking for trouble.”

“The biggest problem you’ll find on Haven is what you stepped in. You won’t run into strict commanding officers, Tragooms, or Darks.” The Imdiko swept his arms to indicate Haven as a whole. “Here, it’s only fields of innocent produce and sweaty farmers, as far as the eye can see and the nose can smell. Oh, and brides who believe haybales and chicken wire are the height of fashion, but that’s an entirely different story.”

Ilid chuckled. For once, his regard remained on Mitag. It sent warmth through the young man.

* * * *

“ Voila ! Pies in the oven, right on schedule.” Charity waved a dramatic flourish for Sara’s benefit.

“Excellent. I’ll dash out for some eggs. The biscuits are my last project.” The blonde grinned.

The door flung wide, and the three children swooped in. “Mom, Mom, Mom, James cut himself bad,” Tori exclaimed breathlessly, dragging her younger brother by the collar of his filthy tee.

“Let me see.” Sara rushed to the pale child, who held out his arm. It was swathed in what was apparently Adam’s shirt, since the teen’s torso was bare. Sara unwrapped it and eyed the wound, which went from the crook of James’ elbow to nearly his wrist. Blood welled in a thin line.

“Big scratch. Not deep, thank the prophets. Tree or fence?”

Charity was impressed by Sara’s calm. She thought if she had a kid and he came in bleeding, she’d be screaming for emergency medics to save his life.

“Fence,” James reluctantly admitted.

“Whose?” Sara glared at him, pressing the wadded shirt to control the blood flow.

His head lowered.

“Mr. Jenkins by the school, I’ll bet.” Sara’s clipped tone hinted James had bigger worries than a cut arm.

Adam rolled his eyes at Charity before he suddenly realized he was shirtless in her presence. He turned crimson and rushed from the room. His footsteps thudded up the stairs.

Tori smirked, but her attention remained riveted on her mother and little brother. “I bet Mr. Jenkins put the fence up just to ward off James from his peach trees. Serves you right, brat.”

“Enough. Tori, see to your chores. James, to the bathroom so I can treat this scratch.” Sara straightened and sighed. “Jennifer, could you go to the coop and collect the eggs for me? There’s a basket—”

“By the door.” Charity had paid mind to Sara’s endless to-do list in case she was asked to help. “I’m on it.”

Behind her, Sara called, “Thanks, sweetie. Come on, James. While I disinfect and bandage this, we’ll have a conversation about those peaches and what happens to thieves.”

* * * *

Charity was nearly to the coop, which was located a few yards behind the house, when a movement at the corner of her eye caught her notice.

Her gaze swung to the barn. Its red presence was a cheerful postcard image, set off by a backdrop of verdant fields and nearby forest. Late afternoon sunlight illuminated the first few feet within its wide entrance, then shadows blanketed the rest of the interior. She was certain she’d seen a figure draw deeper in the dark.

She paused. Except for the chickens, Clan Amgar didn’t keep animals. They owned no cattle, ronka, goats, or horses. The barn’s function was to store produce fresh from the fields until it was sent on to market. It also garaged tools and the hovercarts.

It was close to quitting time, but the fieldhands weren’t due to come in for a few minutes. Sara and the kids were indoors. Groteg and Utber were at their respective jobs. Who’d be in the barn? Could it be Detodev, hoping to see her for a private word? Or more likely trying to avoid her.

No. Despite their acquaintance being so brief, she knew Detodev wasn’t the type to slink around in such a fashion. If he’d come to pick up an item needed in the field, he’d have endured her teasing rather than scurrying to hide.

She had the creepy sensation of being watched. She was reminded of her time on Browning Copeland’s battlecruiser, Sword of Truth . The old feeling of unwanted interest crept over her, making her skin crawl.

Back then, she’d had no choice but to put her head down and hurry on her way to escape the hungry stares of disgusting old men rather than confronting them as she’d wanted to. She’d been unable to slap the knowing leers from their stupid faces. The risks to her and her family had been too great.

No longer. If it were some asshole playing peeping tom, she was perfectly within her rights to punch his lights out. Especially if his target wasn’t her, but Sara. Or Tori. Charity’s hackles rose at the idea.

Then again, it could be someone looking to steal from Clan Amgar. They had a lot of tools and components for their field monitors in the barn. The clan did fine financially for themselves, but it didn’t mean anyone could show up and take their belongings. Charity had almost as little use for thieves…excluding mischievous boys hungry for peaches…as for creeps staring at innocent girls or kind women who went out of their way to help others.

No doubt she was overreacting. It was almost certainly a fieldhand she’d seen. Still, it was best to make sure.

She squared her shoulders. Whoever you are, you’d better have a good reason to be in there. If not, be ready to answer to me.

Charity marched to the barn.

Her eyes were in no hurry to adjust from the glare of sunlight to the darker reaches of the barn’s interior. Peering at vague shapes and trying to make sense of them, Charity stepped in the gloom.

“Hey. Who’s in here? Need help finding something?”

At first, silence greeted her. She ventured deeper, her gaze finding a nearby shovel. So old-fashioned, some farm tools. Also handy if she needed to take a swing at someone. She slowed her advance, creeping more cautiously forward to reach grabbing distance of the shovel.

A distant voice calling unintelligibly startled her, and she turned toward the front of the barn, uttering a gasp. She relaxed an instant later. The fieldhands were on their way in. They were still some distance off from the sounds of it.

She faced the rear of the building’s interior again, irritated to find she’d blasted her vision to garbage from looking at the sunlit area. She curled her fingers on the shovel’s handle. “I know someone’s in here. State your business, or I’ll assume the worst.”

No answer. Charity picked up the shovel and held it at the ready. Staying as silent as possible, she headed in, peering among bins and equipment as best as her slowly recovering sight allowed.

She’d gone half a dozen steps when someone grabbed her from behind. A thick arm circled her waist, pulling her close to a large body. Her attacker yanked the shovel from her grip and flung it into the darkness.

Chapter Nine

As the shovel flew from her sight, Charity enacted the first rule of self-defense: she screamed, as loud and piercing as she could. Then she stomped the booted feet and jabbed her elbows in a stomach as hard as steel.

She was rewarded by the softest of grunts from her efforts. The bastard was big, and as far as she could tell, he was pure muscle. She screamed anew.

Something sprayed her face. Its scent was reminiscent of skunk, and she choked. Dizziness overwhelmed her. Her legs loosened, and she started to fall. Her surroundings rocked.

She was dimly aware her sudden collapse had made her slide low in her attacker’s grip. As he scrambled to catch her, she summoned what strength remained and shot her elbow back once more.

Score. Square in the family jewels, her fading mind whispered.

A high-pitched wheeze verified her hope, a lovely prize for her efforts. The man lost his hold on her. Her instincts screamed escape, and she obeyed them. On numbed legs, the barn tilting like a funhouse, she ran for the outside.

She got through the door and ran smack into another large, muscled body. For a moment, she thought it was her attacker. To her relief, a familiar face swam in view as her upper arms were grabbed and she was held upright.

“Jennifer! Was it you screaming?” Detodev’s nose wrinkled. “What’s that smell?”

She clung to him as her brain tried to gather the wisps of her thoughts and pull them together. “Man. In the barn. Attacked me.”

Sara and her eldest son were abruptly there. The woman’s arm clasped Charity’s waist. “Attacked you? Who was it?”

“I’ll check. Adam, stay here.” Detodev’s lips wrinkled in fury to display descended fangs. He rushed past them to search the building.

Adam stared after Detodev, his face pale. Behind him in the kitchen doorway, Tori and James watched the scene, their eyes wide.

Charity gulped air. The faintness began to dissipate. “I didn’t see him. He was big. Kalquorian big. All muscle. He sprayed something in my face, and I almost lost consciousness.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe now.” Sara glanced to the side. A number of farmhands were racing from the fields, calling questions.

Detodev came out, pieces of hay clinging to his braid and red flannel shirt. His brows were drawn together and low, giving him a bestial, violent appearance. “I didn’t see anyone, but he could have gone through the window in the back. It’s open.”

“I thought I saw someone coming from this direction as I was running up,” Bud panted, out of breath. “He was limping but moving fast. I couldn’t make out any details, except he was a big bastard. He headed into the trees at the edge of the property.”

Charity’s gaze met Sara’s. “Someone knows who I am,” she whispered. “They came for me.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Detodev frown. Despite keeping her voice low, he’d heard her.

* * * *

Detodev joined in the strained laughter as Mitag told everyone of the young bride he worked for and her obsession with tuxedos and haybale seating arrangements. It should have been a hilarious story, but the gaiety was forced from Jennifer, Clan Amgar, and Detodev following the incident in the barn.

At Jennifer’s insistence, dinner had gone ahead as planned. Sara’s pork tenderloin was as amazing as ever. The scent coming from the berry pies was mouthwatering. Detodev had been surprised to learn the would-be astronomer Starry Eyes Seng could bake. He wished he could do real justice to the anticipation of tasting her culinary efforts.

Unfortunately, he was too concerned about what had happened in the barn. He eyed Jennifer and her hosts, wondering what the real story was.

Anxiety kept creeping in, giving rise to anger. His reaction when she’d staggered from the barn, her expression dazed and terrified, had been an upwelling of fury he recognized all too easily. He’d smelled the knockout gas, used often on farm stock by the local veterinarians when a horse or ronka needed medical treatment. He’d helped out on enough neighboring ranches to identify the odor once his mind-blinding rage had dissipated. Whoever had cornered Jennifer must have used a diluted formula. The full-strength version could have stopped her heart instantly.

Who’d do such a thing? And why? It was obvious she was in danger. The remark she’d made to Sara referencing someone knowing who she really was told him she hadn’t come to Haven over a mere prank gone wrong.

And she’d stumbled over her name when she’d initially introduced herself to Detodev.

She’s in hiding on Haven. Who is Jennifer Seng? Why is someone after her?

Who’s after her?

His heart drummed. He realized he was on the verge of an animalistic growl. Detodev drew a deep breath, grateful Mitag continued to talk and hold everyone’s attention. No one had noticed the Nobek’s tense jaw or how he grasped the edge of the polished wood table in a white-knuckled grip.

He forced himself to relax. Jennifer was safe now. The powerful but restrained Groteg, a decent version of a Nobek, would protect her. Knowing she’d been targeted, he’d make sure nothing else happened to her.

Detodev could focus on what he was suited for, what he was safe doing. Farming was where he belonged, where his energies could do the most good. Where he wouldn’t lose control and commit the terrible harm he was capable of, the harm he’d done in the past.

“Hey! Detodev, quit daydreaming,” Mitag demanded. Trust a Nobek to drift off when the talk turned to event planning and weddings, though the stories were funny. Detodev had obviously missed the recent change in conversation.

“Huh?” Detodev’s distant gaze sharpened as he responded to the Imdiko.

“I was telling everyone about the show the Sapphire Isles District Players are putting on at Sunrise’s theater next weekend. It’s a comedy centering around a guy coming to Haven and trying to start a high-end vacation spot for rich people who want a taste of ranch life. It all goes sideways, of course.”

Utber snorted. “I’ve heard of it. My understanding is it’s bawdy. Downright crude. Not suitable for the children.”

“The title of the play tells you all you need to know . Cow Patties in Paradise ,” Groteg chuckled.

“Prophets. No thanks,” Sara laughed as Tori groaned.

“What’s ‘bawdy’ mean?” James asked as he gobbled pork roast and eagerly stared at the nearby pies. If his bandaged arm bothered him, he gave no sign.

“It means young men your age don’t get to see it.”

Mitag directed his interest to Jennifer, Ilid, and Detodev. “That leaves us, my fine friends. It got rave reviews in the neighboring districts. It’s supposed to be hilarious. I can get tickets if we decide to go. Dinner first, maybe drinks later?”

“It sounds like a laugh. I’m in,” Ilid said.

“Is it really what passes as culture here?” Jennifer groused. “What I wouldn’t do for an actual dance club. Except you spoilsport Kalquorians don’t dance.”

Mitag’s brilliant smile fell an octave. “It’s a chance at some new entertainment. I thought it might be fun.”

Detodev noted Jennifer, who had struck him as empathetic to others’ feelings if not always sympathetic , wasn’t picking up on the Imdiko’s disappointment. She was too shaken from what had happened, he guessed.

Her reticence was shared by Sara, who eyed her worriedly. “Maybe going out isn’t such a wise idea. Sticking close to home might be better.”

As Ilid and Mitag registered surprise, Groteg at last updated them on the situation. “Someone got up to mischief on the farm today. Jennifer surprised him while he was messing around in the barn. It was apparently someone who shouldn’t have been there. Possibly a thief, I suppose. He attacked her. She fought him and got free.”

At the Dramok’s and Imdiko’s shocked exclamations, Groteg shot Detodev a glance. Maybe he suspected the younger Nobek had doubts about the story of a would-be robber. Detodev guessed Groteg was warning him to keep such concerns to himself.

Definitely something weird going on where Jennifer’s concerned.

“Detodev was in the vicinity when he heard her call for help, and he came to the rescue,” Groteg continued smoothly. “The person ran off, and Jennifer wasn’t harmed. She’s a little rattled, nonetheless.”

“Good for you, Detodev.” Ilid praised.

“Too bad you didn’t catch him,” Mitag snarled. “Imagine attacking a woman. He deserved the full measure of a Nobek’s wrath for such an act.”

Detodev’s stomach twisted. He ignored Groteg’s regard and the elder man’s uplifted brow. “At least she’s okay,” he muttered.

“A night out and a silly show, whether it’s good or not, is an excellent idea,” Utber suddenly opined. “In my view, the last thing you should do once something bad happens is let it stop you from normal activities.”

“I agree,” Groteg said. “Jennifer, if you want to see the show, who better to be in the company of than three strong Kalquorian men? I can’t imagine what happened today repeating in public, especially if your friends don’t let you out of their sight.”

Again, his gaze swung to Detodev. His stare was challenging.

It was the elder Nobek’s assertion no trouble was apt to happen in public that offered the younger man the space to nod. “If Jennifer wishes to attend the play and it’ll help her feel safer, I’ll go along as well.”

“The same goes for me,” Ilid quickly added. “We’ll see to it no jerk keeps you from enjoying yourself, Jennifer.”

The strain she’d worn like a mask evaporated in the face of their protectiveness. Her smile was nearly its usual brightness. “The show does sound worth checking out. I guess you’d better make good on those tickets, Mitag.”

“Done.” The Imdiko grinned. “I might be categorized as a caregiver, but you have my promise of protection too…after the Nobek and Dramok soften up our enemies.”

Detodev’s laugh joining the rest had a hoarse quality. Thank the ancestors it was doubtful anyone would try to harm Jennifer at the theater. The last thing he wanted to do was show how ill-suited he was when it came to fending off adversaries.

* * * *

Wilkes couldn’t sit still in the aftermath of his failed attempt to grab the Nath woman. Despite the ache of his groin where she’d managed her lucky shot, he paced his casual but nicely furnished living room, snarling at his bad luck.

On top of it all, he’d run from Nobek Detodev, a known coward. He hadn’t realized who’d raced to Charity’s rescue until he’d already fled into the trees, where he’d hidden to see if he’d been identified. Detodev’s face in the barn’s rear window, peering to see where the quarry had fled, had nearly incited him to emerge and issue a challenge. Had it not been for the rising excited voices telling him others had arrived on the scene, he might have. Despite the Nobek’s furious expression, Wilkes hadn’t been impressed. He was as big and strong as the young Kalquorian farmer…and he didn’t slink from confrontations like a beaten cur as Detodev was notorious for.

“I had her,” he snarled to the room, kept clean and tidy by a woman he’d hired to make it so once a week. “My first real chance to do something worthwhile against the Kalqs and Kalq lovers, and I blew it. I had the traitor’s bitch daughter, and she got away!”

He’d ranted and raged in the aftermath, and he could feel the passion of his anger depleting. It was a letdown and a gift: the part of him rarely allowed to vent wanted nothing more than to continue to wallow in ire. Yet Wilkes knew it would take a clearer head to cut his losses and begin anew.

At least no one had identified him. If they had, Groteg would have broken down his door already. Perhaps Nath thought she’d been accosted by a Kalquorian. A few local human men were near Wilkes’ size and strength, but they were a scant minority. It stood to reason she’d surmise some lusty Kalquorian man had been lying in wait for her, eager to rape yet another degenerate human woman. It was what they were infamous for, after all.

It would have served her right if I had been one of those beasts. Wilkes thought of her lying helpless under him, of her cries and tears as he taught her the error of her sinful ways. He enjoyed the idea of just payment for her and her father’s transgressions, though his aching groin found no sensual thrill in it.

The vision of Charity Nath suffering what she deserved at his hands leeched the last of Wilkes’ blinding rage. He eased into his favorite overstuffed chair. He shifted until he found a comfortable position, ready to contemplate the next step.

“They may suspect she’s been found out,” he told the room with its cozy seating arrangement in front of a top-of-the-line entertainment system, on which he enjoyed football games and movies. Talking out loud had always helped him think matters through better. “I’ve lost the element of surprise. Groteg will be on the alert for further attempts in the immediate future.”

Wilkes’ next try would have to be along less suspicious lines. He mused over various scenarios, letting his mind range from the conventional to the ridiculous. He’d found even dumb notions sometimes held a nugget of promise he could take advantage of.

“Might have to take chances…but nothing excessively risky. Not unless the risk can be shoved onto someone else loyal enough to the cause to willingly accept it. Or loyal and stupid enough.”

He grinned. He knew a fellow who fit the bill where such an accomplice was concerned. Once more, speaking the thoughts running through his head had sorted their confused clattering.

* * * *

Charity aimed the battered antique telescope she’d set up in the Amgar backyard. “There, out beyond the Bi’is territory’s sun…what was the Bi’is territory,” she amended. “It isn’t visible from here or from any telescope even at the edge of known space, but my calculations say there’s a hypergiant sun about seventeen hundred light years from Galactic Council territory.”

“Hypergiant?” Mitag asked.

“A star larger than a supergiant. It’s huge, in other words.” She gazed at the blue twinkle of Bi’is itself, a planet now devoid of the sentients who’d called it home for eons. The Bi’isils had been real bastards, but she felt sorry for their extinction just the same. No species deserved to be wiped out, with the possible exception of the entity which had ended them: the All, from which the Darks came.

“How would it compare to Kalquor’s sun?” Detodev asked.

“Close to two thousand times the radius. Visualize six and a half billion of your suns fitting into it.”

The Nobek whistled, for once impressed.

Charity focused and waved Ilid over to look. “There’s Bi’is, as my people would have seen it hundreds of years ago, if they’d been on Haven.”

He hesitated. For an instant, she thought he’d retreat rather than looking. Slowly he bent and peered through the eyepiece. He almost sounded relieved when he spoke. “It’s so tiny. It’s astonishing this device was at one time the apex of scientific tools.” He leaned back and gazed in amused wonder at the telescope.

“Isn’t it? A computer tied to the GC’s Polttuu space telescope could show you geographic formations on Bi’is’ surface. Yet my people discovered a number of planets with one of these before we had non-animal transportation. As did our common ancestors before they flew to the stars.”

Mitag took a turn. “It doesn’t do any calculations for you either. So primitive…but incredible too.”

“What happens if you’re proven correct about this sun’s existence? What does it mean for you?” Ilid asked.

Charity wondered if he could see her flush in the dark. “My name would be attached as its discoverer. It could land me a great job at an observatory, so it’s a career-maker. It sounds like a big ego trip.”

The Dramok’s regard was warm. “You aren’t chasing accolades, though.”

“Don’t get me wrong; I’d enjoy the praise. I’m a mere occasionally self-absorbed mortal, after all. But to be the first to know something of such magnitude is out there…to be the first to realize what no one else has…”

She sounded foolish to her own ears. Pathetic, as if she were a toddler shouting, look at me, look what I did! But it wasn’t that at all. If she proved her hypergiant was out there, it would be the same as discovering a treasure. Or a cure for a devastating illness. Proving her sun existed was a thrill she’d embrace whether the galaxy knew of her accomplishment or not.

“The heart of the explorer,” Ilid said. “Living to find a dream made real.”

She beamed at him. He understood. Somehow, despite her clumsy attempts to explain, he understood.

Detodev took his turn to peer at Bi’is through the lens. “I like this,” he said in his even voice that doggedly betrayed so little emotion. “It underlines how far apart the planets and stars are. Too much is put so easily at our fingertips. Our modern technology makes it seem trivial how far our people have come from our beginnings. This reminds me how hard we had to work to get to this point.”

Charity joined Ilid and Mitag in gaping at the Nobek. He straightened and frowned at their regard.

Mitag recovered and chuckled. “You almost waxed poetic, you big thug.”

“Shut up. I have a brain.”

“I suspected it all along,” Charity grinned, then lightened up on him. “You’re right. It doesn’t apply only to stargazing, either. As backward as I complain Haven is, farming is a breeze compared to what it was when hunters and gatherers began planting rather than chasing their food. Sometimes I dream we might actually survive our worst selves.”

“I suppose there’s hope.”

Charity imagined there was a note of sadness in Detodev’s voice. She brushed off the notion and stared up at the sky. It was vast. Limitless, dotted by endless points of distant stars. “So clear,” she sighed. “You don’t get such views from Jedver’s surface, thanks to the light pollution.”

“Careful. We might get the idea you appreciate Haven,” Ilid chuckled.

She turned in a slow circle, her gaze sweeping the cosmos laid out like a computer star map. She’d already memorized the positions of Kalquor, Earth II, Joshada, Bi’is…so many planets twinkling when their turn to visit the night sky came. Haven held an impressive position to view its distant relatives and beyond.

“No light pollution here, thanks to it being mostly pastoral. The location is a sort of hub to view everything we’re taught in our classes. You can explore the farthest reaches of known space from this very spot. There should be an observatory on this planet.”

“Do you think so?” Mitag joined her in eyeing the black stretch of sky overhead.

Charity imagined Haven’s position in her mind’s eye. There were moons, planets, and stations in the area, but far fewer than most colonized planets. Travel routes weren’t heavily trafficked even when Planet Farm Hell wasn’t quarantined. It wasn’t considered a tourist attraction. No big cities. A handful of satellites and one space station orbited. Nothing else.

“It’s the perfect place for an observatory,” she said. “So much wide-open space on the planet…a university study facility would be inexpensive to put here alongside an observatory. A big one, so there isn’t so much wait time to use the study stations.”

“Was that typically a problem on Jedver?” Ilid asked.

“You better believe it. There’s sometimes up to a GC standard month delay to get at the resources at my school. We’re constantly filing extensions to finish our work for our professors.”

“Haven’s colony charter is specific about it being a resource to benefit Earthers and Kalquorians who wish to pursue farming and ranching. However, other colony charters belonging to Kalquor have been changed if the alterations were considered of value to civilization,” Detodev noted. “It’s possible our government would consider an observatory and university facility to be an advantageous addition.”

“It is inside the empire’s space,” Mitag added.

“If the Galactic Council’s university got its shit together after the Darks are shown the door…or Kalquor and Haven residents decided to extend Kalquor’s current university system to extend studies here…I can see it. Planet Farm Hell could be an important place for stellar investigation.” Charity’s mind boggled. The modest home of cow and ronka patties could become a springboard for a whole field of education and exploration.

“You should send a proposal to the Kalquorian university board,” Ilid said. “As well as the governors of Haven. Groteg and Utber have the connections to get you interviews.”

“The Jennifer Seng Observatory.” Mitag grinned. “Impressive credentials. You’d have Kalquorian clans of high rank beating down your door.”

She snorted, not just at his obvious fishing. Nor because it wasn’t her real name he was using.

She considered her father’s vaunted position on the original Earth. He’d been a high-ranking general at the Holy Leader’s side when Browning Copeland had wielded all the power. It wouldn’t have saved her from Copeland’s sick lust. Then there was her sister Hope. She’d joined a high-ranking clan, but they had served as double agents in the empire’s recent civil war. Though they’d been instrumental in saving Kalquor from the enemies determined to destroy it, they were still considered one step above traitors by many.

All those showy titles, all their heroics, yet the Naths weren’t allowed to be together as a family. Charity had no clue when she’d see her father and sister again. Thanks to the dangers inherent in their positions, it was possible she wouldn’t.

“Rank is nothing,” she said. “I can’t imagine anything lower on my list of priorities. I’m only interested in those I can count on to be close. People I can count on, period.”

Reminded of how Detodev had been there outside the barn when she’d run to escape her attacker, she glanced at the big Nobek. True, his showing up when she needed him had been a coincidence…but he’d been there, nonetheless. Her smile of gratitude was sincere.

She must have caught him off guard because he returned it in full. His was a wonderful smile. It transformed what had been a merely handsome man…in a morose sort of fashion…into stunning.

Hello, gorgeous. Why have you been hiding?

Jennifer smiling…really smiling instead of in her teasing, ready-to-kick-you-in-the-crotch smirk…was a revelation for Detodev. Starry Eyes was beautiful. Truly, unequivocally beautiful. It was as if he’d never seen her before.

It had come on gradually, he realized. As she’d spoken of the hypergiant sun she ached to prove, as she’d seen the potential for an observatory on Haven, the snide and somewhat juvenile aspect of her personality had faded to reveal an intelligent woman fully capable of forging a path for herself and those who’d take note and follow. Just as she’d looked at the sky and seen the whole of its possibilities, he now saw that in her.

Is this what it is to fall in love?

Shit.

The notion simultaneously amused and irritated Detodev. The urge to be near Jennifer, to protect her at all costs…an urge setting his teeth on edge…was terrifying because it felt so imperative. It was a desire he couldn’t shove aside.

It was getting late, and Jennifer began packing up her telescope. Mitag glanced between Ilid and Detodev. “Want to come back to my place? Drinks, whatever else?”

“I have to be in the fields early. The east field’s monitors seem to be passing their glitches to each other. In fact, I need to talk to Groteg and Sara about it, get some extra hands over there to work on the machines if they can spare them. I’ll join you another time.” Detodev spoke half-truths blandly, hoping Mitag wouldn’t suspect he was doing so. The Imdiko had an uncanny ability to sense when he was being outright lied to.

“I’ll join you,” Ilid told Mitag. He glanced at Detodev but didn’t press him to accompany them. “I told my parents not to wait up. Hopefully, they’ll listen this time.”

Detodev felt a mix of disappointment and relief. The idea he could have enjoyed both the fascinating Dramok and lovely Mitag almost made him wish he hadn’t opted to remain behind. At least Mitag was too delighted to be entertaining Ilid to press him on his excuses.

They stuck around long enough to see Jennifer to the back steps of the Amgar home. Then the two men left, their heads close together in conversation as they walked away. Their laughter drifted on the air.

“Good. Ilid needs to have an affair. He and Mitag fit well, don’t they?” Jennifer sighed, the sound happy.

“You really aren’t put off by them being intimate?” It wasn’t the conversation Detodev wanted to have, but curiosity demanded he ask.

“It’s hot. I’ll be imagining those two together later.” Her bald statement was accompanied by a challenging gaze. “Not all Earthers are uptight. Do I strike you as an Earthtique?”

“No. But some Earthers have secrets. What did you mean when you told Sara someone had discovered who you really are after the attack in the barn?”

She paled. “I have the feeling you understand about keeping secrets. It seems you’re a mystery wrapped in an enigma. Heaven forbid you share anything when it comes to yourself.”

“You’re deflecting.” He kept accusation from his tone, trying to invite her to share. “I’ve spent the entire evening wondering who Jennifer Seng really is. And who realizes who she is and why they came after her today.”

“Damn it.” She scowled at the sky she’d been looking so dreamily at minutes earlier.

He expected her to tell him to mind his own business. To storm into the house. Instead, she set the telescope on the porch and sat on the back steps. When he stared at her, she impatiently waved at him to sit by her side.

“I get you Nobeks prefer to be on your feet, but I’d like you close while I spill my guts. In case I have to smack you for some reason. Down, big man.”

He obeyed. It wasn’t the threat of being hit, but his sense of her underlying need for support bringing him close. Her warmth was beguiling, forcing him to restrain himself from scooting as close as possible. “You’ll tell me?”

“I suppose I owe you, since you came running to my rescue. You have to keep this to yourself, though. My safety depends on it.”

A wave of protective anger swept through him. Detodev glanced at their surroundings, instinctively checking for trouble. “I don’t tell tales.”

“No kidding. You barely talk.” She chuckled and gave him a playful nudge before sobering again. “My real name is Charity Nath. Does it ring a bell?”

Nath. Detodev frowned. It did indeed sound familiar, and he sifted through his memory to discover why.

A second later, he had it. He wasn’t one to watch much where news was concerned, but he’d have to live under a rock to have missed the story of Holy Leader Browning Copeland’s supposed survival…and the allegations his last general, Borey Nath, had conspired with the Kalquorian Empire to illegally hold him prisoner.

“General Nath had…has a daughter supposedly clanned to Admiral Piras, the spy who played traitor to get to Copeland,” he said, thinking out loud. Jennifer, or Charity, couldn’t be her…no way a clan like Piras’ would let their high-profile Matara out of their sight. Besides, she was young for such a mature clan. His eyes widened in realization. “There was a younger daughter too, recently sighted on Alpha Space Station. You?”

“Me.” Charity smiled ruefully before launching into her tale of the bounty placed on her by certain factions of Mercy and New Bethlehem colonies. “It’s probably their leaders, the epitome of Earthtiques, who want to question me as to what I know. I happen to know a lot. Plenty to shake up the balance of the current situation.”

“Copeland’s alive,” Detodev surmised. Shock reverberated through him. If the Darks in charge of the Galactic Council could prove it, Kalquor’s few remaining allies might turn on the empire…a ruinous result for a dimension already rumored to be teetering on the edge of destruction.

“Unfortunately. Why Kalquor didn’t execute the bastard is beyond me.” She stomped the step her feet rested on. “Some people don’t deserve a fair trial when their guilt is beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

Detodev didn’t feel capable of weighing in on that portion of the situation, but he recognized what was important to him. “If the Earthtiques have learned you’re here, you’re in danger. We have to assume it’s the case.” He stood.

Charity stared up at him. “Where are you going?”

“To talk to Groteg.”

* * * *

“I can keep an eye on the farm. Patrol, watch for trouble,” Detodev said.

He and Groteg had the kitchen to themselves for the moment. Steady thumps overhead were evidence of James running around on the second floor. Sara’s, Charity’s, and Tori’s voices also drifted from the upper story. Detodev was unsure where Utber and Adam might be. The fact Groteg hadn’t signaled for quiet when the younger Nobek had announced he knew about Charity Nath, the fugitive Clan Amgar hid, reassured him they were far enough away for it to not be an issue.

“You?” Groteg’s tone was bland, indicating neither acceptance nor disbelief. His gaze was steady. Perhaps curious. “How did you feel when you searched for her attacker, Detodev? More importantly, what will you do if you discover a possible intruder on the property?”

Detodev remembered the hot, sick feeling when Charity had burst from the barn, her eyes wild from fear. How his vision had turned red-tinged when he’d torn into the building, searching for the animal who’d stamped such terror on her features.

He thought of another woman gaping in horror. Of a man, dripping blood. And another, groaning in a heap. Bile rose in his throat.

Detodev swallowed. “I can help. I can watch for trouble. And if…if nothing else, I can raise the alarm if I come across anyone suspicious.”

Groteg watched him for several beats, his expression evaluating. At last, he nodded. “I agree someone needs to be patrolling the grounds. I’d planned to do so myself, but I appreciate the assistance. You can take first watch and report to the fields tomorrow afternoon rather than morning.”

Detodev snapped a nod. Relief and dread mixed uneasily in his gut. He had no choice but to ensure Starry Eyes was kept safe…but he couldn’t keep from hoping he wouldn’t have to face those who’d harm her.

* * * *

Charity spent an hour tossing and turning after she’d bid everyone goodnight. At last, she admitted sleep wasn’t coming. She sat up on the edge of her bed and considered the view beyond the window before her.

The stars she loved were shining bright. Another body gleamed in the distance, larger but dimmer than the rest. She identified it as Rel Station, a Kalquorian fleet training facility floating a few hours’ shuttle journey from Haven.

She loved the expanse of black, the sense of vast space. For some, it might be lonely. For Charity, it served as a reminder that as big as her problems sometimes felt, they were truly insignificant in the scheme of life. Whatever happened to her, the universe went on unperturbed. Its unending existence was a balm to fears.

She stood and went to the window. Movement caught her eye. A shadow passed between the lovely pecan trees in the front yard. She squinted at the darkness, wishing for a Kalquorian’s heightened sight.

She didn’t need it. As the shadow emerged from beneath the wide branches, she identified the silhouette as belonging to Detodev. Funny how she already knew his figure: the breadth of his shoulders, the shape of his head, the swing of his arms. Even his manner of smooth striding was recognizable. When had she noticed so many details about him to the point of being able to recall them easily?

She watched him, an imposing shade striding confidently. She realized she was smiling. The comforting warmth his mere presence brought was startling. It brought back the memory of clutching him in the aftermath of the attack, of his strength against her. Of his protective snarl. Removed from the terror of the moment, the remembered expression raised the hairs on her body in a far from unpleasant manner.

Silly crush. Silly lust. Still…why not?

Clad in her thin nightgown, she slipped from her bedroom, not bothering to pull on clothes or a robe. She glided down the stairs and considered the direction Detodev had been walking.

She let herself out through the kitchen door and crossed the porch. Down the steps to the lawn, the grass soft beneath her feet, she turned to intercept him, shivering slightly in coolness of night. She angled to leave the shadow of the overhang, so he could see her approach.

“Jennifer. Charity.” The rough voice floated from near the chicken coop.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She spoke quietly as she headed in his direction.

He hurried to meet her halfway between the coop and the house. He stopped a few feet short. “What are you doing out here in your…aren’t you cold?”

“A little. I’m used to running outside and freezing when I notice something interesting is happening in the sky.” She closed the distance.

“Is anything wrong in the house?” He seemed to realize belatedly her sudden appearance might herald trouble.

“As I said, I can’t sleep. I saw you patrolling and thought you might appreciate the company.”

“Dressed like that?”

“You don’t appreciate the view?” She pirouetted to give him the full effect of her flimsy white chemise. It covered everything, but the suggestion of what was beneath the fabric was blatant. Her curvy figure guaranteed it.

He remained silent. Motionless. His thoughts, as usual, were impossible to guess.

“Okay, so maybe I’m trying to distract you from my purpose of luring you out of your impervious Nobek shell.” She had no urge to tease. She felt very, very serious. “I told you my secret. Charity Nath, her truth laid bare, and I’m not referring to my nightgown. Or my hair, eyes, or the surgical alterations to my face from the empire’s efforts to hide my identity.”

“I looked you up in news archives. It is a change.” He paused. “You’re beautiful either way.”

“Thanks for trying to buck me up.”

“It’s true. You don’t believe me?”

She considered. “I don’t mind if you’re just being kind. I hate not being me.”

“I don’t give false compliments.” Typically gruff, he pulled a smile from her. “Does Ilid know?”

She shook her head. “I want him to, but it might not be safe for him, especially if I’ve been discovered by my father’s enemies.”

“Maybe. He’d probably welcome the opportunity to protect you. He strikes me as the type.”

She scowled. “Hey, no fair trying to distract me when I was attempting to do so to you. Make with the true confession, big man. What brought you to Haven to be helped by Clan Amgar? Why are you so afraid of getting close to people? Are you in hiding too?”

His silhouette turned slightly from her. Was it her imagination, or did his shoulders hunch? Was it defensive or from shame?

“I’m not in hiding. I’m Nobek Detodev, farmhand on Haven. Nothing more. Why does it matter?”

“Because I trust you. I hope to earn the same from you.” When he failed to react, she spoke in a frustrated voice. “Look, you came running to my rescue. I realize it’s the warrior Nobek thing to do, but—”

“I’m not a warrior. I’m a pacifist.”

She stilled, confused. A pacifist Nobek? Wasn’t it a contradiction in terms? He’d looked far from peaceful when he’d raced into the barn to confront whomever had grabbed her in there. He’d appeared just as brutish when he’d emerged.

He had to be screwing with her…except a prankster Detodev was as unlikely as a non-violent Nobek when angered.

“I’ve never met a member of your breed who described himself in such terms,” she said.

“My breed is barely a step above primitive animals. Do you think the typical Nobek would admit it?” he muttered. “Cruelty is our nature. Most Nobeks hide behind excuses to indulge in it. A badge of protectiveness to pretend nobility in what we’d do anyway out of anger.”

Charity blinked. There was fury in his voice. And humiliation. He believed the words he spoke.

She heard pain too. An ocean of pain beneath the surface indignity.

“That’s quite the indictment, Detodev. Most Nobeks I’ve met are noble.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? They play the part so well. But there wasn’t an ounce of honor when I attacked my own mother and Nobek father at the mere age of four. My father still carries the scar I gave him. And over what? I was refused a treat. I wanted a damned tiky puff and went after my mother when she told me no. I was an animal from birth. I knew nothing but vicious drives.”

The self-loathing in his voice chilled her. Though she half-feared his reaction, she placed a hand on his arm. She felt the fine trembling, but he didn’t pull away.

Heartened, she soothed, “Children throw tantrums when they’re young. I threw fits as a teen. Accidents happen.”

“It was no accident when I put an instructor at training camp in a coma. He damned near died when I lost control.”

“When you were four?” Charity couldn’t believe it.

“I was sixteen on that glorious occasion. I’d fucked up during an exercise since I was already disgusted by my urge to hurt others. I refused to spar hand-to-hand and defend my team’s position during the drill. It caused us to lose the battle simulation. My instructor was within his rights to punish me.”

“How? Did he hit you?”

Detodev barked a laugh possessing no humor. “He never had a chance to lay a hand on me. He only got as far as screaming in my face, and I…I lost it. It took half a dozen full-grown men to pull me off him. Even when I realized he was near death, all I could think was how I wanted to finish the job.”

He abruptly pulled loose of her hold. For a moment, she thought he’d stalk off. Instead, he rolled the three-quarter sleeve of his shirt up and shone a light on the inside of his arm.

A ladder of scars...scars on top of scars on top of scars…climbed up to where his bunched sleeve began. It was only then Charity realized Detodev never wore sleeveless shirts as did many Nobeks, who were typically eager to show off battle scars.

“These didn’t come from others. These are from my own blade,” he rumbled.

“You’re a cutter?” She winced at her own surprised words, realizing how insulting she sounded. She stared at the tormented suggestion of his features, mostly hidden by the dark.

“It relieves the urge when I’m tempted to attack.” He twisted to face her full on, going as far as to bend so their noses were mere inches away. “I don’t want to be a monster, Charity. I don’t want to be a mindless beast who destroys people over a difference of opinion. I can be better than the breed I was born to. Which means I can’t be the Nobek potential clanmates or lovers expect me to be.”

“Detodev.” She grabbed his arm again and felt the raised proof of his anguish. So much pain. So much suffering. She spoke, her tone thick from feeling. “I don’t see any hint of such brutality from you.”

“You did when I ran in the barn. Seeing you frightened…if I’d caught your attacker, I might have torn him apart. I would have torn him apart.”

“Why? We’re barely acquainted.” The words mocked her. She was protective of him too.

“I told you,” he said after a lengthy, uncertain pause. “I’m a Nobek. Violence is what my breed does.”

“You were violent when the tantrums of a toddler arrived. Earthers call it the ‘terrible twos,’ though it can go on for longer. Our children strike out as well. Then you were violent when you were an adolescent, cooking in hormones. From what I’ve heard, it isn’t uncommon for teen Nobeks to majorly lose their shit on a regular basis.”

“Which proves my point. We’re only beasts.”

“You know what? It can happen to Earther teens too. Even if they don’t get physical, they aren’t recognized for making good decisions during adolescence.”

“My breed is infamous for getting physical.”

She refused to give up. “Doesn’t the danger of losing control fade as Nobeks get older? Don’t the majority graduate from the training camps around eighteen, nineteen years old?”

“In any case, few of us put their trainers in the hospital.”

“It sounds to me as if your trainer failed to keep his wits about him, especially considering you were coming out of a training battle where your control had already been tested. If anyone was to blame, it was him.”

“You can’t excuse what I did. What I’m still capable of.” He straightened and looked away.

She kept going, as if he hadn’t spoken. “As for what you might have done today…well, I hope you care enough to defend a frightened woman who runs to you for help. A man should be enraged to see someone weaker victimized. I’d like it even more if you’d cared because it was me who’d been terrorized.”

Silence. She let the quiet stretch, so he could consider what she’d said.

At last, he spoke. “I couldn’t see straight when you were standing there, shaking like a leaf and staring at me as if I were your only shelter. All I could think was the bastard had to pay for assaulting you.”

“Do you hear me arguing you shouldn’t have? I’d have loved for you to teach him a well-earned lesson.”

“I refuse to consider violence as the only means of correcting problems. Despite how I acted today, I won’t be reduced to it.” Tension thrummed through his frame.

“Oh no, you aren’t a big meathead who pounds people first and asks questions later? How awfully enlightened of you. It’s scandalous.” She smirked.

“I’m also not the kind of man anyone expects a Nobek to be.”

“Then be the Nobek you want to be, even if it means rewriting the book on warrior mentality. Why do you believe I wouldn’t think it’s okay? Give me a little credit, Detodev. Even if I thought less of you, why would you care? Do I pay your bills? Is my opinion worth more than yours when it comes to how you live your life? Is anyone’s?”

His attention turned toward her. She saw the glint of his eyes in the starlight as he gazed at her, perhaps weighing whether she meant it.

“I wish I knew what to make of you,” he muttered.

On sudden impulse, she said, “Figure this out for starters.”

She closed the distance and rose on her toes, grateful she wasn’t as short as her sister. Wrapping her arms around his thick neck, she pressed her lips to his.

His hands pressed the small of her back, drawing her close before he froze. She clung, moving against him, willing a man’s instinct to grab control…as his Nobek instinct for protectiveness had earlier in the day.

To bring home her intentions, her mouth parted and her tongue slid between his lips. Uttering a groan, he opened to taste.

Sizzling excitement coursed through Charity as their tongues met and twined. She writhed, letting him feel her softness pressing his iron frame, keening in blatant need. The kiss grew hotter, hungrier. When at last it ended, they gasped as if they’d run miles.

“I’m not the man you want,” he panted. “I can’t be.”

“Detodev, I don’t have a habit of kissing men who don’t interest me,” she said. “So why don’t we mosey to the old barn over there and create me some better memories of it? At that distance from the house, we won’t scare the Amgars, the kids, and the chickens. Trust me, you don’t want me getting crazy aroused in the backyard. I’m noisy when it comes to sex.”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re sure?”

“I’m many things, my friend. A tease isn’t one of them.” She used her grip on his neck to pull him toward the barn. “This invitation is set in stone, big man. I take refusals personally.”

He allowed her to tug him a couple of slow steps. “I’m on guard duty. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on things.”

“You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on me . How better to do so when we’re up close and very personal?”

* * * *

Groteg stood at the window, where he’d been since hearing Charity go outside. He shook his head in mingled disbelief and amusement as he watched the young woman drag Detodev toward the barn. The younger Nobek’s initial reluctance…probably brought about by Charity’s unforeseen lascivious attack rather than disinterest…ended in a flash. He abruptly lifted her and trotted to the silhouette of the large building. Her legs wrapped around his waist. She kissed and nipped his ear and neck. They disappeared in the barn’s dark environs.

“Are they letting nature take its course?” Utber asked from the clan’s shared bed. He sat leaning on the headboard, Sara snuggled against his chest.

“That would be an affirmative. Apparently, Charity doesn’t accept ‘no’ for an answer.” Groteg couldn’t keep the laughter from his tone as he joined his clanmates. He slid between the sheets and curved into their warmth.

“Good for her,” Sara yawned. The scent of her earlier pleasure mixed with theirs washed over the Nobek. “Our girl’s going to be all right as long as we keep those bastards from Mercy and New Bethlehem at bay. Detodev will be okay too, if she can convince him to get out of his own way.”

“She might. She’s bringing out the protective instincts he fights. Maybe having her to keep safe will help him learn to trust rather than fear them.”

Charity had entertained visions of making love on mounds of hay. She’d forgotten Clan Amgar’s lack of livestock meant they had little use for large amounts of the stuff. Fortunately, they had a supply of bags of chicken feed piled nearly knee-high and wide enough to accommodate her. Perhaps it wasn’t as soft as hay would have been, but it made for an okay surface to lie on. Plus there were no stalks to jab her.

It was where Detodev had set her after he’d stripped her nightgown off. Now she was gasping and moaning as his hot mouth moved from breast to breast, sucking enthusiastically.

His weight on her was an enthralling reminder of how big he was. How strong, thanks to his muscled physique. She was brutally conscious of his power as he hungrily devoured her breasts and his hands roamed her far softer topography. Her entire body sang as cascades of pleasure ran through her from scalp to toes.

Her legs curled around his waist, seeking to trap him. He could be so distant. She feared he might abruptly think better of the situation and run. Much of her writhing was from pure ardent instinct, but some was calculated. She wanted him. Like Ilid, she’d wanted him almost from the moment she’d seen him.

“Detodev,” she groaned, running her hands on his brawny upper back and shoulders, then tangling her fingers in his wavy hair. It was dark in the barn. Robbed of her sight brought sensation to the fore, exciting her.

She was blatantly aware of the sting when he nipped the underside curve of her breast. She gasped as the shock rolled straight to her pussy. The crotch of her panties was already soaked through, but excitement gushed anew to wet her inner thighs too.

“Oh!” she cried, her legs tightening on him. She’d heard Kalquorians enjoyed rougher play. It was an enthralling surprise to find she enjoyed at least this small demonstration.

It was proven again when he bit her other breast. His weight pinning her, robbed of sight, unable to keep him from delivering hints of punishment…Charity was consumed by arousal to be in such a position.

It made her wonder what Ilid, possessing a Dramok’s command, might have done to her if they’d had better opportunities to explore during their trip to Haven.

Detodev kissed his way to her mouth, his passion stealing her breath. His hand squirmed between them despite her legs’ desperate grasp. She squalled when he stroked the sodden crotch of her panties, his touch firm on her clit. His kiss muffled her wild cry, and his return growl was likewise softened…but its vibrations thrummed through her.

Be as animal as your Nobek nature wants , a part of her silently pleaded.

She had hopes he would. His arousal scent, similar to Ilid’s, betrayed his growing lust. Perhaps it was because he was a Nobek that Charity thought he smelled wilder than her other crush. The sweetish-spicy aroma had an added musk she found incredibly erotic.

Or maybe it was simply the fact his fingers were seeking entrance through the leg of her panties. They discovered it, and his calloused touch was abruptly on her.

In her.

She flailed at the sudden invasion, her legs releasing him to kick the air as bliss tumbled through her sex. She clawed his back, and he snarled against her lips. He bit the lower one. Once again, slight pain translated to mind-blowing pleasure. Charity’s cry rang through the barn.

“I’ll make you come for me,” the deep, growly voice promised, sending a shockwave of exhilaration down her spine. “You have no choice, woman.”

His thumb sought her clit and rubbed. At the same instant, the two fingers in her applied demanding pressure to her inner wall, finding a place matching her clit for electricity. All at once, Charity was on the brink. Bright, shining rapture held her for an instant…then her senses exploded.

A heaving tide of pure ecstasy swept over her. It hadn’t begun to recede when the next wave hit. She was lost in euphoria, drowning in it as each surge drove through her.

It seemed a lifetime later when she became aware of darkness surrounding her, of a blissful weight on her, of someone else breathing heavily above. Of fingers filling her, though the invasion was now happening elsewhere, where she’d never been filled before. Filled and emptied, filled and emptied, stretching her so she experienced a thrilling ache, which kept the quieting surges of completion flowing.

“Gorgeous Starry Eyes,” came Detodev’s voice, weighted by feeling. “You’re so beautiful when you come.”

“Prophets,” she groaned. “You should license those fingers and your mouth as deadly weapons.”

His chuckle was breathless. “I damned near joined you. You’re amazing to watch. Are you all right? Am I hurting you?”

The ache had eased. Charity missed it, strangely enough, but the pressure was still exciting. As was the anticipation of what they had yet to experience together.

“I’m fine. Wasted, thanks to you being in-fucking-credible, but I’m perfect. You’ve been practicing on the local farmgirls, haven’t you?”

He snickered. “I’ve been lucky enough to have a couple of encounters. Not too often. Drinking on both sides is usually involved when they start dropping hints. More drinking when they finally ask me to satisfy their curiosity about Kalquorians.”

He didn’t approach them, then. It made Charity sad his perceived lack of merit as a Nobek extended to his love life. How much joy was Detodev missing out on because he let Kalquorian society’s parameters dictate how he saw himself?

She gripped his head in her hands and pulled him in for a kiss, pouring into it her need for him to see himself as worthy.

He broke from her long enough to strip off his shirt. She gloried in the warmth of his skin as the kiss resumed, as the barrier of his pants disappeared. She felt him hot and heavy and slick on her mound and spread her legs in welcome.

He entered her cautiously despite the tension she felt thrumming in his body. His second shaft was significantly larger than his fingers, and she was glad of his care. His primary was thicker. Though she was no blushing virgin, his girth made her ache. Despite the increasing ardor of his kiss, betraying his mounting eagerness, he took his time. Even so, Charity wondered if she could actually make love to this man.

He slid against the sensitive place inside. All discomfort disappeared as passion seized her. She cried out, and he froze.

“No. Don’t stop. For prophets’ sakes, don’t you dare stop,” she gasped.

His low growl answered, and he continued to fill her. Her head tossed as the brutal friction of the double impalement increased, soaring her ever closer to detonation. Her constant moans were punctuated by high-pitched sounds as surges of bliss shot through her. She was conscious of the ache of taking him. It added to rather than detracted from her excitement.

He didn’t pause when they were fully joined. He rumbled animal noises at every exhale, warning he was as aroused as she. His hips rocked, feeding the bounding elation driving her quickly to the precipice. The only question was who’d reach climax first.

Charity’s legs wound around his clenching ass, clutching in rhythm to his quickening thrusts. Her hips drove up to meet his descent. She grasped handfuls of his hair to hold him so she could kiss and bite his lips. Their movements were frenzied and wild as pleasure twisted in a knot inside her clamoring pussy.

Tight, tighter…she felt she’d go insane before she reached the breaking point. It came all at once, ripping apart and flinging her into ecstasy.

Somewhere in the maelstrom of orgasm, she was aware of Detodev shouting. Anything else was eclipsed in the raw violence of pounding, pulsing elation.

It was some time later when she returned to the darkened barn. Her pussy throbbed in concert with the gentling jolts from the cocks in her. Their gasps rang loud in the stillness. Detodev had rolled them so they lay on their sides facing each other.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Have you returned to reality yet?”

“Barely.” He chuckled. She wished she could see the rare smile she sensed he wore. “I hope I wasn’t too quick.”

“Did I sound like you were too quick?” She snuggled in closer, enjoying how big and warm he was. “I’ve had two. You have some catching up to do.”

“If that’s an invitation, I’ll gladly take you up on it. Give me a few minutes.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“However long you need.” She thought for a minute. “My first Kalquorian. Now I’m angry I’ve been missing out.”

“I’m surprised Ilid was denied the privilege of being your first.”

“He would have been, but the shuttle cabins weren’t soundproof. His parents had the uncanny ability to be in earshot when any opportunity presented itself. You heard how loud I am.” She scowled because it had been obvious Ilid’s parent clan would have been delighted if they’d become lovers. She’d had half a mind to tell them they needed to make themselves scarce more often during those three days of missed chances.

She snickered as another thought occurred to her.

“What?” Detodev sounded suspicious.

“I was thinking it’s funny you and I just had sex, and it’s you who brought up another man.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression being with you was less than incredible. It was.”

“Thanks and right back at you. I don’t mind you brought him up. Hey, since you did, can I ask about you and Mitag? I’m curious, but if it’s none of my business, say so.”

There was a beat of silence before he answered. “You’ve said you weren’t put off by men sleeping with men.”

“I’m not. The idea turns me on.”

“Mitag and I have been intimate. I’ve tried putting him off…you know, expecting the worst when he finds out I refuse to be the typical Nobek…but my being difficult only seems to encourage him.”

“Or you’re so damned hot, he can’t stop himself.”

“I think it’s a matter of him enjoying a challenge.” Detodev sighed. “He’s also rather needy.”

Charity found his nose and tweaked it. “Don’t sell yourself short. Since I’ve solved the mystery of strong, silent Detodev, I’m still attracted to you. Don’t sell Mitag short either where your pacifism is concerned. A guy who does event planning for human farmgirls must have an open mind.”

“I suppose it’s possible.” He sounded far from convinced. Charity imagined she heard regret in his tone again.

Detodev likes Mitag. Maybe more. I wonder if he realizes it. He’s so determined to stay walled off from everyone, he might have lost touch where his feelings are concerned.

“Now I’m down to finding out what’s up where Ilid’s concerned,” she said, discerning it would probably be a bad idea to press matters of Detodev’s heart. For the moment.

“Mitag will. Ilid didn’t go home to his parents if I know that stubborn Imdiko. One step in Mitag’s lair, and it’s pretty much finished. He’s as determined as you. As well as enticing.”

“Imagine him and me as a team.”

“I shudder.”

She rubbed against him. “I don’t feel fear saying hello down low, do I? A couple of hungry boys are waking up. Come on. I want to guarantee you spend your workday too satisfied to be miserable from a lack of sleep.”

Detodev proved he was up to the challenge.

* * * *

Ilid opened his eyes and discovered he was frozen on a medi-bed. He couldn’t budge an inch. His breath caught as the spyship’s medical department swam into clarity. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

Dr. Umen moved in view. He cocked his head to one side, his hooded eyes narrowed in fascination. Ilid had little interest in the man’s broad features, however. An indistinct blob sat on Umen’s wide shoulders, its shadowy tentacles curled around his throat and chest.

“Awake, are we? Fine, fine. I’ve completed all the tests I can while you’re living, and it’s time to dissect you. Of all the ways to kill a Kalquorian, this is my favorite. Don’t die too quickly please. It takes all the fun out of it.”

He raised a laser cutter so Ilid could see it. He switched it on.

He pointed it at the trapped man’s abdomen.

The agony hadn’t begun, but Ilid screamed in anticipation of it. This time, his horror opened its voice, and it pealed loud, drowning Dr. Umen’s maniacal laughter.

“Ilid! Wake up! Ilid!”

Ilid’s eyes flew open. Hovering over him, an Imdiko orderly named Darir was shaking him, his gaze terrified.

Darir? But he was dead, killed by the Darks as the spyship had blown up. Ilid had barely escaped intact.

The nightmare finally loosened its hold. It wasn’t Darir calling his name, but Mitag.

No Dr. Umen. No Dark. No fleet spyship medical department. Ilid was on Haven.

“Ilid!” Mitag shouted.

The Dramok’s shriek cut off. He lay gasping, staring up at the young man he’d come home with and fallen asleep next to. He reached up, his hand shaking, to touch Mitag’s face. Mother of All be praised, he could move. Better still, Mitag’s cheek was warm. Solid. Real.

“Fuck,” he groaned. He closed his eyes as the sting of tears from mortal terror transformed to tears of relief.

“No kidding.” The Imdiko kissed his brow. He was trembling too. “Hell of a nightmare.”

“You have no idea.” Shame washed through Ilid. He wondered how Mitag would take it if he got up and left. Probably not well.

“Why don’t you tell me about it? Expose it to the light so it doesn’t seem so bad.”

Ilid barked a harsh laugh. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Ilid opened his eyes.

Mitag still hovered, concern spelled clearly on his handsome features. The Imdiko stroked his jaw, his desire to somehow help obvious. “I wish you would anyway. I like you, Ilid. A lot.”

“Don’t.” Ilid immediately regretted how harsh he sounded when Mitag winced. He cupped his jaw in apology. “I’d be a waste of effort.”

“How can you say that? Maybe I don’t know you well yet, but you’re clearly a wonderful man.”

“I’m an okay man. I’m a shitty Dramok. Probably the worst you’ve met.”

Mitag stared in confusion. “Because you had a nightmare?”

“Because I’m afraid every second of every day.” Admitting it gave him a sense of relief. Pretending he was someone he wasn’t, a strong Dramok in command of his life, was too much of a burden. Ilid considered wearing a sign bearing the words he’d spoken: I’m always afraid .

“What are you afraid of?”

No dismay. No disgust. Mitag kept gazing at him, his expression a study of gentle compassion and caring.

Ilid had to set this Imdiko straight. He thought Mitag was wonderful too. Wonderful enough to find a real Dramok to commit to, the Dramok he deserved.

Ilid sat up and rested his back against the luxuriously padded headboard. “I encountered the Darks during my service to the fleet. They took control of my ship. The officers, a lot of the crew, the medical staff…” He thought of Umen standing next to him, a laser cutter in his hand. “I can see the Darks. They wanted to know why, so they experimented on me.”

“Mother of All,” Mitag breathed, gaping in horror. “Why haven’t I heard of this?”

“I was on a spyship in a place a Kalquorian presence wasn’t supposed to be.”

He watched as the pieces clicked together for Mitag. “Bi’is? You were there when…when they were killed off?”

“Maybe. I’m uncertain what was happening on the planet while my ship was under the Darks’ domination.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone of your mission.”

“Honestly, I no longer care who knows what the fleet was doing.”

Mitag gazed at him, compassion pouring from his eyes. “You were among the first to witness the presence of the Darks, weren’t you?”

“Unfortunately. I watched men I knew and trusted become utter strangers. I was surrounded by the Darks’ shadows. If my rank hadn’t been so low, my job so unimportant, they would have grabbed me too. Instead, I was forced to see things that made no sense.”

“To have encountered the unknown, to have watched commanding officers and shipmates turn into hostile people draped in shadows…” Mitag shook his head. “You must have thought you were going insane.”

He got it. Ilid relaxed at his reaction.

“Obviously, I managed to escape. Mostly. A part of me is still on my former vessel though. Maybe it always will be.”

“How did you get away?”

“An Imdiko orderly helped. They got him when we were caught trying to reveal the Darks to the empire, to warn Kalquor of the hostile presence.” He swallowed, remembering Darir disappearing under a tide of furious Darks. “My ship blew up as I raced off in a shuttle. I was the only survivor.”

Fresh horror dawned on Mitag’s features. “I’m so sorry, Ilid.”

“I have nightmares, some worse than tonight’s. When I’m awake, I can’t stop searching for the damned Darks no matter where I go.” Even as he spoke, Ilid’s gaze swept the well-furnished room displaying Mitag’s good taste. The initial hint of morning had begun to gray the sky beyond the Imdiko’s window. The room had a few shadows, but they were mundane. Nonthreatening. He stared at each in turn anyway.

Mitag moved so his face filled Ilid’s view. “Darks haven’t infiltrated Haven. The officials here have protocols to keep them out, people standing guard. The women can hear them and we have those like you who can see them. We’re always on alert. No one comes to the planet unless they’ve been thoroughly vetted.”

“I understand that. It’s why my parents brought me here, why they hope to open a bakery for me to manage. This is all so I won’t try again to kill myself because I can’t handle what the Darks did to me.”

Mitag’s eyes brightened. Tears slid down his cheeks. He whispered Ilid’s name.

Ilid’s thumbs rubbed them dry. “I’m no real Dramok. I’m weak, Mitag. So terribly weak. Certainly not a Dramok any Imdiko should be the clanmate of.”

Mitag’s heart ached. It physically hurt to learn the pain this beautiful, haunted man lived with and the confidence he’d lost.

“I don’t see weakness.” He scooted closer to Ilid. “I see a survivor. An incredibly strong survivor who’s finding his way back after going through a horror I can’t imagine.”

“You wouldn’t say so after a few weeks of being woken by my screams.” Ilid’s gaze shifted for a moment to a point beyond Mitag’s shoulder. Checking for Darks.

Those who can see them do so in their peripheral vision. It cleared up the mystery of why Ilid struggled to meet Mitag’s gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Ilid, listen. I have bad nightmares too. Hell, I sleepwalk on occasion. You have no idea how often I wake in my closet, thanks to my silly brain sending me into hiding from night terrors.” He debated saying more, but it was wrong to talk about himself when his friend suffered. “Waking me up screaming isn’t as big a deal as you worrying yourself sick.”

“I upset you. Admit it; I scared the hell out of you.”

“I’ve had worse scares. Believe me.”

Again, it wasn’t right to discuss his own issues at the moment. Ilid had revealed his secret to Mitag. He’d trusted him with raw wounds in need of healing.

Mitag kissed his suffering bedmate, pouring care in it. He did so passionately to show Ilid he was all the Dramok he needed to be. A Dramok deserving of love and respect and happily-ever-after.

Mitag wasn’t sure he’d get to be this man’s clanmate. He wasn’t sure he’d was someone Ilid would want once he emerged from the fog of trauma blinding him to his worth. It didn’t matter. Mitag was an Imdiko, a man built to care and assist. He’d do so for the despairing Ilid as long as he was allowed.

A therapist had once told Mitag damaged hearts called to damaged hearts, especially where Imdikos were concerned. “Our breed tends to put others before ourselves. When an Imdiko feels someone hurts as he does, it isn’t merely an opportunity to help him. It can serve as a mirror image of our own pain and loss. Therefore, if an Imdiko can aid another sufferer, his subconscious might tell him it’ll bring him comfort too.”

Mitag had been looking for such a connection for a long time. He felt he’d found it in Detodev, and now, Ilid.

He experienced a twinge of conscience as he offered the cleansing force of lust to calm Ilid from his nightmare, because some of it was for his own selfish need. Their circumstances were different, but he saw his own hurt in the Dramok just the same. Mitag wanted to heal him. He wanted to be healed.

As he kissed the other man, he swung his legs over Ilid’s to kneel. He increased the passion of the contact, letting desperation feed his energy. His hands smoothed along the strong planes of Ilid’s shoulders, down his chest, along his abdomen, zeroing in on the place where he could help him forget his troubles for a little while.

Ilid seized his wrists, stopping him before he could do so. When Mitag pulled his lips from the Dramok’s to gaze questioningly, he found a dark, demanding stare greeting him.

“Do you want a Dramok, Imdiko? When it comes to sex at least, I can certainly play the part.” Ilid’s grin was fierce, all hints of uncertainty gone.

“Show me,” Mitag invited, a thrill of excitement and anxiety coursing down his spine. As if Ilid hadn’t done so a couple hours prior.

They weren’t much different height-wise, but Ilid was by far the more powerfully built of the pair. He showed his physical strength, heaving up with a suddenness that startled Mitag. He found himself falling back. Ilid put him flat on the bed. He loomed and pinned his wrists to either side of his head.

“Guess I shouldn’t have gotten on top?” Mitag gasped.

“It gets my attention and inspires me to assume my rightful place.”

It was Mitag’s turn to be fiercely kissed. He felt Ilid was putting his stamp on him as well as asserting his mastery. He welcomed the image, though it was probably an illusion.

What he wouldn’t do to make the fantasy a reality.

Ilid kissed his way along the Imdiko’s jaw, up to his ear where he nipped the lobe. Mitag yelped at the exciting sizzle of pain. He instinctively squirmed against his captor, though he was exactly where he wanted to be. Ilid chuckled before kissing, his lips hot on the side of Mitag’s neck.

The Imdiko was thinking, I bet he’s going to bite , when Ilid did so. Fangs sank in the meaty part of his neck. Mitag yelped again and bucked, intuiting his lover enjoyed subduing even halfhearted resistance. Certainly the Dramok’s cocks, hard and slick on Mitag’s thigh, exhibited delight to feel him struggle against the inevitable. Ilid burrowed tighter, his weight pinning him.

Little by little, the Dramok’s unspoken demand for surrender eased Mitag’s scant resistance. He wants my submission swirled in his head, and it was as good as hearing it ordered. In the end, he lay lax and accepting as Ilid’s venom took him over.

The Dramok released the bite and licked the pinpricks, his saliva easing the smarting that remained. He sat back to eye his prize. His wide smile showed his fangs folding out of sight. “Nice, obedient Imdiko,” he breathed.

Mitag groaned in response. Whatever Ilid ordered him to do, he’d grant without a moment’s hesitation. The bite left him no choice.

Ilid covered all the bases in a single statement. “Don’t resist. Surrender to me. Don’t move unless I tell you to.”

Mitag’s acquiescence was voiced in a sigh. “Yes, Dramok.”

Ilid wasted no time. He was young, he was eager, he was ready. Perhaps he was as determined to put his nightmare aside as Mitag was to help him do so. He settled the Imdiko’s thighs in the crooks of his elbows, lifting his hips. Voicing a grunt, his primary homed in on Mitag’s entrance and claimed him in a single thrust. Ilid’s eyes slid shut. Bliss suffused his handsome features. Seeing him accept Mitag’s gift of comfort lifted the Imdiko’s spirits. He felt his heart take Ilid in.

Let me love you. Let me have this important step toward the only thing I want in this whole universe, the one thing I haven’t been given since I was small. Give me a someone to adore and adore me in return.

The seconds spun past, and Ilid remained motionless. He simply knelt, joined to the hilt to Mitag, breathing softly. When he spoke, it was in quiet wonder.

“Why can’t it always be like this? Warmth and safety and pleasure? Why does anything else have to exist?”

Unsure if he should speak, Mitag waited until Ilid gazed at him, seemingly wanting an answer. The Imdiko offered the first option that came to mind.

“If bad situations don’t show their ugly faces, we don’t recognize and appreciate the wonderful moments.”

A slow smile tinged by sadness stretched Ilid’s lips. “Could be. Being here with you is wonderful.”

“For me too.” Hearing how choked he sounded, Mitag said nothing else.

Ilid’s hips slowly rocked. His cock moved deliciously against Mitag’s cumspot, eliciting a cry of pleasure. Though Ilid no longer pinned his arms, Mitag was unable to move because he’d been told not to. He could only lie motionless, feeling the exquisite sensations of Ilid making love to him.

Maybe he read too much romance into it, but it didn’t feel like a mere casual fucking. Nor did it feel his lover was using him to escape the pain he felt. Ilid’s pace was unhurried. He moved leisurely, slipping back and forth, letting Mitag feel every nuance of motion. Ilid turned his head from side to side and kissed the insides of the Imdiko’s bent knees, but his gaze remained riveted on Mitag, face. He gauged his reactions and adjusted the angle to elicit greater responses. He had control, but Mitag’s enjoyment appeared to be very much on his mind.

Best of all, he wasn’t looking for Darks.

“You can touch me,” Ilid said.

Mitag’s hands explored eagerly, thrilling to Ilid’s silky, warm skin. He’d concentrated his past seduction efforts since arriving on Haven to Detodev exclusively. The vision of Ilid’s nearly unmarked flesh…he had a few small scars on his abdomen, chest, and forehead, barely noticeable…fascinated him. He was used to the strangely symmetrical remnants of cuts, particularly on Detodev’s inner forearms. The Nobek had never shared their history…nor why fresh marks had appeared over the past year.

In contrast, Ilid’s flesh was almost as blamelessly smooth as Mitag’s, stretched over delicious swells of muscle. Mitag was particularly enthralled by how the Dramok’s abdomen flexed as his hips moved to feed him his larger cock. Detodev was an incredible lover, exciting and passionate when roused, but not as nuanced as Ilid.

Ilid adjusted his angle every few thrusts, experimenting to learn what felt best to the two of them. He paused to grind against Mitag on occasion, setting off exciting pulses. The Imdiko’s moans increased in frequency. Ilid’s fingers traced his flesh, gentle at first. Then he scraped his nails over Mitag’s torso, not marking but adding unaccustomed sensation. Finally, he pinched his nipples carefully, then harder. When Mitag’s lips parted to cry out in excitement, Ilid thrust his thumb between them so Mitag could suck on it. Ilid ran his wet thumb along his lips, coating them in Mitag’s saliva. His hips moved faster, increasing the already heady friction.

Keeping Mitag’s legs tucked in the crooks of his elbows, Ilid grasped the Imdiko’s shafts and pumped. Mitag gasped at the surge of heat filling his secondary and pushing toward its larger twin.

“Is it good, Imdiko?” Ilid teased.

“You’ve had practice,” Mitag panted.

“Believe it or not, spyship duty is usually boring, at least for us grunts who did nothing but work in ship’s operations. Off-duty, I was always looking for a little recreation. I was surrounded by plenty of young, willing, restless men like myself to enjoy.”

Mitag was concerned Ilid would lose his arousal thinking about his deployment, but the Dramok’s attention had zeroed in on watching his length disappear in Mitag’s accepting flesh. His pace steadily increased. Mitag guessed excitement kept him from delving too deep in the memories, allowing him to avoid the unpleasant ones.

Ilid continued masturbating Mitag’s smaller cock, releasing the larger to lick the Imdiko’s wetness from his hand. “I don’t think I’ve had anyone who tasted so sweet. You’re the perfect dessert, Mitag.” He grasped his willing prisoner’s primary once more and repeated the tasting on his other hand before resuming pumping both shafts. “Your ass has the ideal amount of tightness to squeeze my cock. So fucking good. I can’t wait to fill it full of my cum again.”

The recitation of Mitag’s attributes, muttered in a seductive growl, made the taking more exquisite. Ilid had leaned forward as he spoke, staring intently in the Imdiko’s eyes. Mitag was dimly aware he’d stopped stroking the Dramok’s torso at some point. He hung onto his muscled shoulders as if for dear life. Ilid’s groin clapped to his ass, the reports growing louder at each contact. His hands whipped faster on Mitag’s swollen lengths, urging heat to fill them to bursting.

“I could pound this sweet ass all night long if I didn’t have to come so fucking bad. If I didn’t need to shoot my cum deep in your ass.” He was growing bestial, his fangs showing.

Mitag’s heart pounded violently, transmitting straight to his cocks. Tiny cries escaped him as he edged nearer to losing restraint in Ilid’s firm grip. “Please, Dramok. I’m getting close.”

“Don’t come.”

Mitag wailed as the command stole control from him. Still intoxicated by Ilid’s bite, his brain seized on the order, and the surging lava creeping toward escape halted.

“Hold on, almost there, hold on, hold on…” Ilid’s jaw tensed. A cry emitted from between his clenched teeth. At the same instant, his shaft, buried to the hilt in Mitag, pulsed.

Watching and feeling his lover’s release brought mingled gratification and yearning for Mitag. He’d given Ilid the escape he’d needed, but desire demanded he find fulfillment too. His supplicating whimpers were a counterpoint to Ilid’s exultant gasps.

After a minute or two, Ilid’s glazed eyes cleared. His gaze raked Mitag. He licked his hands clean, then he ran his fingertips along the Imdiko’s trembling body. “You were incredible. Hopefully, I can thank you adequately.”

He pulled free and stretched Mitag’s legs flat on the bed. He crawled on top of the Imdiko, his ass hovering over the rigid lengths standing straight and insistent. Mitag shouted as his primary was enclosed in grasping warmth.

Only Ilid’s earlier order and the intoxicant holding sway kept Mitag from immediate climax. His cocks clamored for relief, for the Dramok to say the words to release him. Ilid rose and sank on him. His ass clenched rhythmically with each mind-blowing tug on the livid flesh trapped in him, drawing out Mitag’s rapturous torment. He stared intently to absorb every gasp, head toss, and jaw clench as Mitag suffered exquisite agony.

The Imdiko clawed at Ilid, who threaded his fingers in his and pinned his hands to the bed. Mitag’s heels beat the mattress as incipient orgasm roiled in his cocks. He fought for the words to beg Ilid for mercy, but speech had ceased to be among his faculties. He screamed in desperation.

As the wail trailed to an end, Ilid leaned close and quietly said, “Come.”

Mitag shattered. Gratification came in violent bursts. He knew nothing but brutal rapture for a long while.

When he returned to a semblance of reality, Ilid kissed him gently but thoroughly, languorously tasting Mitag’s whimpers. When the Imdiko finally quieted, Ilid rolled them on their sides. He wrapped the shaking Mitag in strong arms.

Minutes later, they dozed dreamlessly, contentment written on their slumbering features. Neither was visited by further nightmares.

Chapter Eleven

Dramok Dolgra reflected that for someone who’d nearly been kidnapped the day before, Charity Nath was in high spirits. Unaware of him watching her, she danced around in the chicken coop. She tossed feed like confetti to the squawking while singing a stream of good mornings to them in an off-tune but chipper voice.

He chuckled. Her foolishness amused him despite having been summoned to the Amgar farm for such worrying reasons. She tossed her honey-hued hair so it stuck out in wild waves as she finally quit terrorizing the chickens and left the coop.

She caught sight of him grinning at her and laughed to have been caught acting goofy. No embarrassment stained her cheeks. “Hi! What brings you here so early?”

He approached her. “You. I heard you had a little excitement in the barn.”

Her face blistered red at his comment. Her jaw dropped in shock. A second later, understanding lit her face, and she giggled. “Oh, the attack. Yes. Awful. Scared me half to death.”

She certainly didn’t look scared. As Dolgra neared her, he figured out why…and the reason behind her initial embarrassed reaction when he’d mentioned the barn. She carried the scent of being freshly showered, but a Kalquorian’s sexual aroma wasn’t so easily washed off.

I guess the barn saw more action than was advertised. She’s still seeing Dramok Ilid, I suppose. I wonder if it’s getting serious.

Keeping his expression and tone carefully neutral, he questioned her about the assault. Her description made it sound as if she’d been grabbed by a Kalquorian, which while awful, was a relief. Dolgra couldn’t imagine any of his species in his jurisdiction wanting to abduct her on behalf of Mercy or New Bethlehem, no matter how profitable the bounty was. Nor could he envisage the Earthtiques in control of those planets contracting with Kalquorians, in spite of how much they wanted to get their hateful hands on Charity.

Some asshole who deserves to have his dicks cut off and jammed down his throat thought he’d grab her. He tried to take what he can’t respectfully charm from a woman. A different rage danced in Dolgra’s mind. It was tempered by the possibility her real identity hadn’t been outed.

“I’m sorry a member of my community tried to hurt you, Matara,” he said. “I’ll do everything possible to track down the bastard and bring him to justice.”

“You don’t think my enemies realize who I am and paid someone to grab me?”

“I won’t discount the possibility. In fact, I’ll proceed from the assumption because it’s our chief worry. But if it were a Kalquorian, we’d have to also consider different reasons for the assault.”

Like Dolgra, Charity seemed to take comfort from the idea. Earthtiques were terrible indeed when a woman preferred the threat of sexual violence to being captured by them. In any event, Dolgra would discover who was behind the attempted confrontation and see to it the shithead paid.

When Charity disappeared into the house, Dolgra stepped in the barn. The deep shadows were nonexistent. When he’d alerted Dolgra of the attack, Nobek Groteg had also informed him he’d personally installed two strips of lighting fixtures a couple hours following Charity’s horrific encounter. He’d had the farmhands do the same in all the farm’s outbuildings to make sure no further violence would happen.

Groteg had investigated the barn himself. Dolgra had no doubt Haven’s security chief and his team had been thorough. Nonetheless, he’d be remiss in failing to conduct his own survey.

He heard no one come in behind him, yet the air seemed to shift as he examined the inside of the building. “Don’t take it personally. I know you conducted an exhaustive search.”

“You wouldn’t be doing your job if you didn’t inspect it for yourself.” Groteg stepped beside him. He fairly vibrated danger.

Dolgra ignored the wishful tug in his chest and refused to look at the impressive figure next to him. Don’t go there. He’d already been stupid where Clan Amgar was concerned. He was unsure what had possessed him to give Sara the expensive bottle of bohut, but it had been dumb.

No Imdiko wants to live with someone so cold. I doubt a Nobek would either. Words snarled in the past had lost none of their vicious sting for Dolgra. Nor had the memory of the man who’d spoken them walking away, never to be seen again.

He’d been right. Dolgra wasn’t romance material in the slightest.

“Not working today?” His tone was light, hinting at none of the turmoil in his heart.

“The office will com me for anything important. I wanted to secure the farm as much as possible after what happened yesterday. The incident occurred next to the support beam.” Groteg pointed, then led Dolgra to the spot. “I found no real physical evidence despite the struggle, unfortunately. Just the shovel Charity picked up when she called the guy out. She lost the opportunity to use it when he tossed it away. He was quick.”

“She didn’t retreat when she realized she might be in danger? Brave. Foolish.” Dolgra’s tone held grudging admiration for Charity’s courage.

As Groteg had said, there was nothing to see in the immediate vicinity. Dolgra was impressed at how tidy the barn was. He caught a hint of the rank remnant of the spray the assailant had used in his attempt to knock the Earther out. Beneath it was the smell of humans and Kalquorians. No surprise, given Clan Amgar was composed of and employed both species.

Dolgra caught a stronger scent. His gaze swung to a pile of chicken feed bags.

Groteg chuffed amusement. “She has no fear of the barn in spite of what happened. At least she doesn’t when she’s in the company of a man who interests her.”

“Dramok Ilid paid a visit?”

“Nobek Detodev. He insisted on taking a shift patrolling the grounds to watch for further trouble. She joined him.”

“Detodev? Interesting. He’s a bit of a loner.” For good reason. Pacifist Nobeks weren’t popular, except as punching bags for other Nobeks…at least until Detodev demonstrated how anger could overcome his peaceful intentions. Pushed hard enough on a few occasions to fight back, he’d put his detractors on the ground in a decidedly authoritative fashion. Nonetheless, those who’d learned better than to try him had spread the rumor he was a coward, which many of the uninitiated believed.

“Matara Charity is apparently hard to resist. Ilid and Imdiko Mitag buzz around her regularly too.”

“Ready-made clan.” Dolgra did his best to ignore the notion Clan Amgar was a similar case, should the right Dramok appear to attract them.

No Imdiko wants to live with someone so cold. I doubt a Nobek would either. Or a Matara, whether Kalquorian or Earther.

The mental images of Sara and Utber stung in the wake of the memory. As did the presence of the man standing at his side.

Forget it.

Groteg shrugged at his assessment of the potential of the young people forming a clan. “Charity isn’t enthralled by Haven. She’ll leave as soon as she can. I can’t see Detodev chasing her as a potential lifemate, no matter how attractive he finds her.”

“Nor would Ilid. He doesn’t see himself as a real Dramok after his traumatic encounter with the Darks. It shook him to his foundations.” Dolgra had read Ilid’s psychiatric reports in preparation for the former spyship crewman’s arrival on Haven. A wave of sympathy filled him for the kid’s anguish.

It was too bad Ilid’s self-image had been damaged to the point he refused to consider the likelihood of clanship. Caring lifemates could make a difference to his outlook.

As if you’d know about that.

Dolgra shook off the tangent of regret and his fellow Dramok’s chance for youthful love…or probably more accurately, youthful lust…to return to what should be their focus. “Your intruder left no evidence anywhere?”

“He was careful where he hid as he waited to ambush her. Judging from her description of the attack, I believe he jumped her from here as she passed.” Groteg showed him a space behind a metal tilling cylinder. “No sign he’d been there, however, or anywhere in this general vicinity.”

Dolgra put himself where Groteg had indicated. He looked up at the lights illuminating the area and how much sunlight came from the open doors of the barn. “Earther eyesight doesn’t compensate for darkness as well as ours. She would have been blind once she stepped past that area.” He nodded to indicate where the sunlight ended.

“I wish we’d had the lights yesterday. Safety’s never been an issue for us before.” Groteg scowled.

Dolgra walked back to where Charity had encountered her assailant. “He comes out, they struggle, she gets in a good crotch shot and pulls free.”

“Then he runs to this window.” Groteg led him to the rear wall. “We found a few threads on the frame. The lab has them and should be reporting their analysis soon.”

“No hair?” Dolgra frowned. Most Kalquorian men wore long hair. Crime scenes involving his people tended to offer plenty of samples.

“None. Maybe he wore a hooded jacket. Or a head covering. Bud caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure, but no details of his appearance. He mentioned he was big though, as Charity reported.”

“Muscled?”

“Bud couldn’t say.”

“Charity might have been wrong about that. It’s hard to be sure when you’re fighting off someone who came up behind you.”

Groteg considered. “She has a pretty good head on her shoulders. It could have been an Earther. A few around Sunrise are nearly our size.”

“We have to consider all options. I can tell you no one has shown up on Haven from New Bethlehem in the last year. The Mercy refugees who fled the rioting were thoroughly vetted.”

“So Earthtiques from that quarter are out.”

“Unless operatives were sent to Haven early on for long-term surveillance.”

Groteg’s brows rose. “I never figured the fanatics for the long game. They always struck me as impetuous. Overly eager to act.”

“I’ve seen subtle signs Mercy and New Bethlehem might have had spies watching us for a while. Their governments’ conversations with Haven’s Earther governor have occasionally let slip they’re aware of more than they should be.”

“Mercy is currently in chaos, thanks to the revolt and Dark Death. Those few refugees we took in prior to Haven shutting its doors to all but the most extreme emergencies…do you have any indication operatives slipped in?”

Dolgra shook his head. “It’s possible but unlikely. Before the Darks took over the Galactic Council, the GC froze Mercy’s assets when its government tried to pull a financial scam on Joshada. The lack of funds for needed programs were part of what started the unrest. When the government tried to fake an attack by their detractors and the footage of Copeland’s alleged presence on Kalquor came to light, it all went to hell. Short story, Mercy doesn’t have the money to pay operatives unless they pull it from where it’s most desperately needed. Who can guess if they actually plan to pay the bounty once they get hold of Matara Charity?”

Groteg considered. “You can’t discount the fanatics. They’d do it simply because they’re determined to return to Earth’s old ways.”

“There is that. Which is why I’m considering the few Earthers who are as tall or muscled as our people as potential suspects. There are those whose physical regimens develop them to match our natural muscle.”

“True.” Groteg seized on the idea. “I can think of four men on the Earther side of Haven’s security force who’d qualify.”

“Give me the names, and I’ll investigate them.” When the Nobek gave him a funny look, Dolgra explained, “You shouldn’t be looking into this where Earther law enforcement is concerned. It could be seen as a conflict of interest. Your focus will be to investigate those outside of Haven security who match Matara Charity’s description of her assailant.”

“All right.” Groteg rubbed the back of his neck. “As for Charity’s fling with the young men…particularly the Dramok you brought in…”

“I doubt it’ll hurt to let her have some fun. You know Detodev personally. I’m fully informed of Ilid’s history.”

“Imdiko Mitag had to pass a thorough background check when he put on the event for the Earther governor. He’s so clean, he squeaks.”

“Despite his family’s history. It surprises me he’s so well-adjusted, considering his background. He sued for emancipation as a minor, you know.”

“I know, along with the reasons for it. He had more than his fair share of reasons to become an utter asshole, if not worse,” Groteg agreed. “No sign of trouble, however. We were impressed by his demeanor when he joined us for dinner.”

“If you’re okay with him being around her, it’s good enough for me.”

“I’m reassured where they’re all concerned, especially given your opinion of Ilid. Charity has less chance of being assaulted in the company of three strong men.”

Dolgra had to point out one factor. “Nobek Detodev’s pacifism won’t prevent him from defending her?”

Groteg snorted as they started to leave the barn. “Detodev’s biggest problem isn’t an unwillingness to fight. It’s how bad he feels after he’s been forced to do so and has committed the damage his opponents had coming to them. He lets guilt for the mistakes of his youth color every instance he engages in self-defense.”

“That’s a rough mindset for a Nobek.”

“He’s willing to watch out for Charity, which is a step in the right direction. His usual reaction to the danger would be to avoid it entirely. Isn’t it a little early for cocktails, my Matara?”

Dolgra’s heart skipped a beat as they emerged in the sunshine and found Sara waiting for them. It sank to note she held the bottle of bohut he’d given her.

“I believe we mistakenly got someone else’s delivery. This is very expensive.” She smiled and offered it to Dolgra.

He drew himself up and smiled as innocently as he could manage. “No mistake. I thought your clan might appreciate a treat rather than the usual container full of packing materials.”

Groteg peered at the label. His eyes widened in surprised appreciation. “Quite the treat.”

“It’s too much. I priced this vintage when I was researching presents for my clanmates.”

Groteg beamed at her. “What a lovely thought, my Matara. I’m glad you didn’t, though. We’d have had to leave an entire field unplanted if you’d indulged us so handsomely.” He chuckled at the idea of the extravagance.

“Two fields, my Nobek.” Sara held the bottle to Dolgra. “Thank you for such a generous gesture.”

“Please enjoy it,” he insisted, hoping his face wasn’t red. “As I said, it’s a thank you for taking Charity Nath on, especially in view of yesterday’s attack. It’s the least the Kalquorian fleet could do for you. They aren’t paying you enough for her lodging and safety, in my opinion.”

“But…” she looked to Groteg for help.

Dolgra backed toward his shuttle. “I’m running late on my deliveries. Save it to celebrate a good harvest, the end of the Darks, the end of Dark Death…whatever. I’ll check in later, Groteg, and let you know what I’ve found.”

He hurried to his shuttle before they could insist on him taking the bottle. It had been a stupid move to give such a gift. He’d had no business trying to charm Clan Amgar.

No Imdiko wants to live with someone so cold. I doubt a Nobek would either.

He was better off alone.