Alkard

ALKARD

Downstairs from the Fallen Star's main floor, nestled in the most secure area of the club, was a room few knew about. The doors to even reach the area only opened via a biometric scan, and only for me and my most trusted circle.

It was decorated as opulently as the club overhead. The table was made of real wood, not synthetic. Overhead lights descended from the ceiling on thin gossamer webbing.

A huge tapestry covered the rear wall, depicting Vinduthi in our natural element, hunting and killing. I poured myself a glass of Agmis brandy as I listened to Makar make his report.

"I ran into a petty thief by the name of Tollak," Makar said, his tone suggesting he was really getting into his story. "And he told me that Conii's day chef was in dire need of a recipe for Itoli Stew. I just happened to have come across one of the most exquisite concoctions during my culinary adventures, and I was able to trade it for a little information."

His smile seemed as warm as the green tracery that twisted up his arm. Smart people thought of poisons instead.

"And what information would that be?" I asked, growing increasingly impatient. My body might have been in the meeting room, but my mind kept drifting back up to the club above. I couldn't stop thinking Tessi was up there, right in the same building as me.

"If Conii has our guns, then she isn't keeping them in her own residence. The chef was very clear on the fact that he has full access to all areas except her private quarters…and those are too small to hold such a large shipment."

Havek growled and tapped his fingers on the table with mounting impatience.

"Why didn't you just say that? Why did you have to tell us every twist and turn of your investigation, no matter how minute?"

Makar spread his hands out wide.

"Why, I sometimes feel as if I am taken for granted, and I want to remind you all of how good I really am."

I snickered, while Havek grumbled.

"I do appreciate your efforts, Makar. I never thought your strange predilection for preparing food would prove to be so terribly useful."

"You would not say that if you tried my quiche."

I sighed.

"For the last time, I'm not eating cheese. I can't believe the humans turned you onto that. It's basically milk that's spoiled, you know."

Makar gasped. "How can you say that? A good cheese, my dear Alkard, is more sublime than the Koklar Nebula, and satisfies the palate on a level that few other repasts can hope to manage."

"If we're talking about human food, I prefer barbeque," Havek said.

"As I would expect," Makar said with a smug smile.

"What makes you say that?" Havek asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Because you're a basic bitch, Havek. Always have been, always will be."

"You want me to show you basic?" Havek bristled.

"Knock it off," I snapped. "Both of you. We don't have time for this shit. Don't you think Conii would laugh herself sick if she could see you two now? Almost at each other's throats?"

"I'm just sitting here," Makar said with a shrug.

I glared at him until he sighed and nodded to concede the point.

"Keep looking for our weapons," I said. "And I want you to be on the lookout for any news about a missing human woman as well. About five and a half feet tall, strawberry mane. Used to dance at the Pulsar. Name of Mera Lashley."

"Why am I looking for her?" Makar asked.

Apparently he caught something in my expression.

"Mera, you say?" Makar said. "I'll go and make some inquiries right now."

He stood up and I nodded, my anger fading a bit.

"Please do," I said as Makar left, then turned to Havek.

"How are Kovas and Taz faring?"

"It's been about an hour since I last checked in with them. That Fanaith is one stubborn bastard. He won't talk no matter what they do to him."

I stood up and stretched like a cat. I had sat too much today.

"I'll go and check on their progress."

I left the meeting room and entered a short hallway. One way led to the stairs allowing ingress to the club floor. The other way terminated in a secured and soundproof metal door.

I walked to the metal door and pushed it open. As soon as a crack opened, a piercing scream reached my ears.

I entered the room. The Fanaith leader hung from a hook piercing his dorsal fin, arms manacled to his feet. His smooth skinned amphibious body had more red showing than gray, and he appeared to be missing several of his fingers and toes.

"I see our guest is on the stubborn side," I mused, grabbing the Fanaith's head and lifting it so I could look into the man's eyes. Well, I tried. It was hard when both eyes were nearly swollen shut.

"Fuck you," he managed.

"You're not my type," I said, grabbing a sharp knife off the wall. "And if you don't start talking, then you won't be fucking anything again, ever."

I did my level best, creative in my brutality, but the Fanaith either didn't know anything, or was made of too stern of stuff to break.

My anger increased the vehemence of my interrogation efforts, until Taz pointed out that my rage was going too far.

"You're going to dry up this particular wellspring of information, Alkard," he said.

I growled, and shoved the bloody knife into his hands.

"Fine. Keep at it."

I took a towel from the wall and used it to clean the blood from my face and hands, then shut the door securely behind me.

I jogged up the short flight of steps, anger brewing inside of me. The Fanaith surely knew something worth our while. I didn't like it when the enemy was strong willed, loyal, or both.

It made getting information out of them so damned inconvenient.

I stepped up onto the club floor and froze, everything else swept out of my mind.

My eyes fixed upon the sinuous form of Tessi. The patrons all gathered around, cheering her on as she twisted and turned her body in the most sensuous of ways.

She wore only glittering stockings and gloves, a high leather collar hiding her bite mark.

Tessi's smile grew as one patron held up paper credit slips in his hand. My blood boiled as she sashayed over to him, until she was only inches away. She put her high-heeled shoe on the raised buttress of the stage.

The patron, a Mondian, stuffed the paper credit slips into the top of her glittery stocking, his fingers touching her creamy flesh in the process.

I moved without thinking, patrons and waitresses scrambling to get out of my way.

My hand closed on her waist, and I dragged her toward the shimmering curtain leading to the backstage area.

"What are you doing?" she protested. "I had them right where I wanted them."

Tessi's words made my face twist into an even bleaker grimace, fury.

"Hey, answer me," she said as I continued to drag her along. "Why did you pull me off the stage?"

I rounded on her, my mouth flying open.

"Because you are…"

My voice trailed off.

I needed to get a grip on myself. This human female got under my skin.

There was no reason.

"You are not getting the job done," I snapped. "Your dancing is awful."

She blinked, surprised, then her eyes narrowed. "That one guy seemed to like it well enough."

I couldn't think, couldn't do anything other than watch her lush lips, the shapes they made as she spoke.

Then the meaning of her words sunk in.

How dare she say such a thing?

"He is not the one you need to impress," I snapped. "I am. I think you need some discipline."

She squeaked as I dragged her into my office. The door shut behind us and I kept pulling her along until we were behind my desk.

I settled into my seat, and then pulled Tessi into my lap. Her gaze caught me off guard. Somehow there was no fear there, just indignation, and something else. Something new.

Something I wasn't sure I wanted to see.

"What are you going to do to me—oh!"

I flipped her over as if she weighed nothing. Her rounded bottom presented itself to me, supple and pliant and inviting.

I resisted the impulse to caress her, to pull those cheeks apart and see her most intimate areas. Instead, I slapped the palm of my hand down on her right cheek.

"Ow!" she cried. "What?—"

Tessi squirmed on my lap, protesting every smack on her bottom with an indignant cry. But at the third smack, the sounds she made grew more enigmatic.

I could not tell if her sharp cries and husky moans were from pain or from pleasure.

I stopped the spanking before her reactions got me too distracted, pushing her back onto her feet. She looked down at me, her mouth slack, eyes wide and glassy.

"Get back to work, and dance properly this time," I snapped. When she continued to stand there, staring at me blankly, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall, I added another slap to her already sensitive behind and she yelped.

"I mean now , Tessi," I snarled. She needed to get away from me, quickly.

With a quick shudder, she seemed to come back to herself, her hands flying to her face.

As she hustled out of the office, my eyes stayed glued to her red bottom the whole way.

With a groan, I sunk my head into my hands.

I really must reign in my emotions from now on. That was…that was close.

Too close.