“The key is collecting the rest of the Hex Darmight. Seal them back in their reality.”
He catches the incertitude in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes dip into thoughts humanoids consider to be the soul. “Keep this safe for me.” JC removes the choker from her neck decorated with the symbol of Eir Basilica. “Keep it. One day you’ll know who to give it to.” She places the pendant in his hand and closes his fist around it.
He fears the answer to all the questions swirling around his head.
“You have to trust me. Whatever happens, I’ll know you again…in another life.”
Reynard squeezes the pendant in his hand. “You’re not going to die. We can stop the Sandmen.”
“You can’t stop what’s already happened,” JC says.
••••••
REYNARD LOSES TRACK of how long he leans against the examination bed. The metal pendant is imprinted firmly in his palm from squeezing tightly. A captain protects his crew. A good captain—a fucking well-trained captain.
••••••
“COMMANDER.”
Another inch and he would have been past the dream catcher and inside his quarters instead of dealing with the reminiscent tone of his mother when she caught him doing something wrong.
“First Officer.”
“Leeka is scared to death of our world. She has never known any other place but her underwater city. Why did you bring her here?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I accepted your youth and lack of experience when I was sanctioned for your crew, but I never thought someone tutored by the Calthos was irresponsible. She suffers from environmental shock, possibly irreversibly,” Australia says.
“All of us on this ship have been torn from our home worlds without choice.”
“She is our responsibility now.”
“We’re getting good at accepting strays,” Reynard says.
“Commander, it is my nature to follow procedures. If I were Osirian it could be considered stuffy, but I am not against you. I am your First Officer. I must do what is best for our crew.”
“Then help her acclimate to our ship.” He brushes past the dream catcher on his way into his quarters.
••••••
THE AUTOMATIC LIGHT fails to flash on as Reynard enters. Part of him isn’t surprised since damage from the crash keeps manifesting. “Athena, lights.”
Nothing.
He flexes his gun hand, reaching for his magnum before raising it to hit the manual wall panel. He rubs his index finger, searching for the light pad since someone did away with switches.
“Athena, there’s a malfunction with the lights.”
“Clearance code requested,” Athena responds.
“What the hell?”
“Not Hell, William.”
Any other voice and his magnum would be drawn.
“Lights, Athena.” The lights flicker on for Amye.
“I had to rewire the panel—Athena wouldn’t let me in,” Amye says.
Wires dangle from the wall panel.
“I thought we were going to avoid fermented liquids?” Reynard’s heavy breath releases. Amye’s relaxed position distracts his concentration. Her long legs splayed open reveal much of her body in a skimpy, see-through, lacy teddy. They have changed clothes in front of each other. He has seen the birthmark under her left breast before, but never displayed in such an offering.
She swills from a champagne bottle, and bits of the foam splash around her lips and dribble down the open neck of the nightie. “Prohibition never works, William.” She finishes off the last swig, tossing the bottle. It rolls next to several other empty bottles.
Her nipples scream to be released, poking at the soft material of her negligee. She runs her hands seductively up and down her hips. She follows the curves of her body with her hands until finally cupping her breasts. “I want you, William. I know you desire me.”
The veins in Reynard’s neck throb as his pulse quickens. “Not like this. Not in some drunken grope fest.”
She releases a soft moan as she pinches her erect nipples. She replaces her “kiss me” smile with a rolling tongue across her lips.
To deny I’ve experienced lustful thoughts for her would be a lie. I’ve already made one mistake with a girl today, and I won’t take advantage of Amye in a drunken state. Reynard gawks, soaking in a feminine beauty she rarely displays. If this were an eighties movie, Leeka’d stroll in, and I’d have a big comical mess. Not that this isn’t laughable.
“Forget about your little rescued girl. I’m a woman. You need a woman.”
Reynard scoops her up into his arms.
She locks her lips over his.
Reynard wants to open his mouth, but the taste of alcohol on her brings him to nausea. Not sure whether to puke or pass out, he relents massaging her tongue with his.
As she grapples her fingers through his hair, her lips never break contact. His finger fiddles with the back strings of the teddy.
Amye bounces onto her own bed. Enthralled in the passion of the kiss she never noticed him carrying her into her quarters. “What are you doing? I want you, William.”
“Amye, I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret in the morning.”
She throws her pillow as he escapes. The door automatically closes. “I hate you, William!”
••••••
HE DROPS THE wine bottle in the refuse. Before plopping onto his bed, he coughs at the fragrance reeking from the sheets. “What the hell. Did she pour it on here?” Reynard runs his hands over the sheets. “So much for sleeping in my bed.” The couch in the living room area won’t allow him the length to stretch out. Any other given time in my life having women directly interested in sharing my bed would be the most amazing problem to have.
OUTSIDE REYNARD’S QUARTERS, the dream catcher protecting his sleep loses a feather. It floats gently to the floor, melting into a puddle of dark sludge.
THE PRINCESS GINGERLY moves every outfit in her closet from one side to the other.
My most elegant dresses for formal dinner occasions. My maidens neglected to pack anything useful on a combat starship. Not their fault. They were not informed of my impending kidnapping. Still, how many formal dinners
