At once, she quieted. But his thoughts did not. He dozed, briefly. Most of the night, he kept a watchful vigil over her. The locks on the door to their room gave him no confidence. Even though theyd deactivated or destroyed all the listening bots, he felt he needed to be ready for anything.
Beskidt By roused the animal of vigilance that had been an integral part of him on Sayén. Instead of safeguarding himself, now he safeguarded Mara. Cautious. He had to be cautious, his motive greater than ever before.
The odds she had survivedShe could take care of herself. Of this, he had no doubt. Yet she incited in him a fierce protectiveness despite, or because of, her own ferocious will to persevere.
They were both feral, but usually his uniform hid the nature of his beast. Now he lay in a bed on a smugglers planet, holding Mara close to the protection of his mind and body. Stripped of his gray uniform, stripped of everything. His nakedness revealed a truth hed never known; only with her was he truly himself.
The thought wove like smoke in his mind as he held her throughout the night.
They stood outside the lodging, squinting in the glare.
Morning doesnt flatter Beskidt By, he murmured.
Nothing does. Only unconsciousness.
Yellowish light cast by the storm bathed the city and threw the dirt-streaked buildings and streets into high relief. The streets themselves held fewer people. Most of them were likely still passed out somewhere. A few vendors stood with their vend-pods, moodily selling kahve and rolls to red-eyed citizens. Everyone seemed to be nursing a hangover.
Except Kell and Mara. They moved through the maze of the city, the only two people with clear eyes and sharp minds. He couldnt remember feeling this energized and alert in some time. He never gave the 8th Wing less than everything, yet somehow, this morning, he felt sharp as a laser, ready to meet or cut down any obstacle in his path.
Strange. He hadnt even slept very well.
As he and Mara walked, she cast quick glances toward himguarded, contemplativethe same glances shed been giving him all morning. Something had changed between them. Neither spoke of it, yet it was there. The air was fraught with this change, the biggest uncertainty in the midst of the mission.
He growled to himself, fighting the jumble of his thoughts. He needed to focus on the goal: find Lieutenant Jur and her ship. Get them both unharmed to the 8th Wing base. He added another objective: keep Mara safe. Nothing else mattered. Once he set a goal for himself, the only thing that could keep him from fulfilling it was death.
He hoped like hell it didnt come to that.
People thronged in the elevator bay leading up to the club. Most were bleary, and surly, elbowing each other as they jostled into the waiting elevator.
Seems its worth crawling out of the gutter for this merch, Mara said under her breath.
He found himself wedged tightly into a corner, but didnt mind so much since Mara was pressed against him, chest-to-chest. Her body felt as delicious and sleek as it had last night. And his hunger for her hadnt decreased. Knowing the sharp little sounds she made when climaxing, the hot silk of her surrounding him, only fueled his need.
Something had to be wrong with him, because, during the long, crowded elevator ride up to the club, he seriously considered hiking up her skirt and stroking her to completion, feeling her come against his hand.
Ive gone mental. Over a dozen people in here with us, and I want to seduce her.
Despite his attempts to control himself, he hardened, his cock pressing into Maras belly.
The damn witch felt it and smiled at him, wicked provocation in her eyes and lips. She even wriggled against him, teasing him into aching need.
What did I say about provoking the wild animals? His low words were for her ears alone.
Didnt learn my lesson.
Ill teach you againlater.
Her eyes gleamed. Never been a good student. Some one-on-one tutoring that will get the job done.
Finally, the elevator reached the club. Everyone rowdily filed out, and he wished he had a coat or missile silo to cover his giant erection, but he didnt, so he slowly, stiffly made his way into the club.
Fortunately, everyone was too preoccupied with the impending announcement to notice his state of arousal. Only Mara saw, and gave him a heavy-lidded stare that nearly set him off. It had been decades since hed come without being touched, but she lit him like a plasma charge.
He did eventually get control of himself and took in the scene. Today, in the morning, the club lacked the desperately carnival atmosphere. Tinted glass in the windows muted the daylight, yet the details of the placeits grime and disrepairstill appeared. Same with the people. These smugglers and scavengers lived hard, and it showed in their hard faces, their tense, weary bodies and greedy eyes.
Dangerous people who would do anything to survive.
Would Mara look the same in five, ten years? Embittered and callous? Assuming she was still alive.