“Not that I can find. I viewed the feeds during that time frame, and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I didn’t tell you about it because there wasn’t anything to report.”
The isolation, the lack of natural light in the tunnels, the continual threat of a dragon attack messed with a person. Everyone felt the stress, and the broad wouldn’t be the first person to crack, but he needed people who could keep it together. “From now on, I want you to tell me everything. Don’t wait for a final report.”
Hicks swallowed. “Sure thing.”
“And why was she bare-assed naked?”
“She said her suit caught fire from a fumarole burst.”
Biggs shrugged. “All right. I’m not convinced she’s altogether there, but I’ll count on you to keep her in line. If any more crazy shit goes down, I want to know about it.”
“Absolutely!” Hicks’s head bobbed like a toy in a vintage automobile rear window.
“You’re dismissed.”
Alone again, Biggs contacted Asher.
Most considered him a pleasant, upbeat employee, low on the food chain but likable. Asher always had a smile or a joke for someone who seemed to be down.
“Hiya, boss!” he answered.
“I need an accident,” Biggs said.
“Who?”
“The hooker Hicks is fucking.”
“The brunette who went topside?”
“That’s the one.”
“How soon do you need it?”
“Give it a couple of days. Hicks might get suspicious if something happened to her right away. But watch her. If she does anything stupid, take her out immediately.”
“Understood.”
As much as he could trust anyone, he trusted Asher. He’d been a reliable enforcer on Earth before coming to Elementa.
He hoped he didn’t have to eliminate his ops manager, too. He needed a few smart people, and the guy was competent—when he thought with his big head and not the little one. Besides, like he’d told Hicks himself, there was a moratorium on employee recruitment until ships could get in and out.
He’d let Hicks’s future ride. After the whore met her demise, he’d see how the ops manager reacted and then decide what to do.
Chapter Twenty
Glowing lava spilled over the sides of the crater as sparks, smoke, cinders, and ash spewed into the air.
This is close enough! Henry said mentally. He was pretty sure the dragoness wouldn’t drop him into the volcano, but better safe than sorry.
Her bugle sounded a lot like a laugh.
Stop teasing him, O’ne said.
She bugled again but banked hard to the right and veered away from the massive pit of molten, burning rock.
They’d left T’mar’s palace for a sightseeing flight more akin to a roller-coaster ride. The dragoness would climb high, high, high, and then dive. Hard banks right and left. Then she’d make a line drive at a rock formation, veering away only seconds before impact. She did everything to rattle him, except fly upside down.
Are you okay? O’ne asked him.
Peachy, he replied.
She won’t hurt you.
If this was a truce, the dragoness had a funny way of showing it. On the other hand, she hadn’t toasted him, and her grip around his middle remained secure and gentle. If she was testing his mettle, he’d be damned if he’d fail. So he hadn’t protested until they’d gotten close enough to the volcano to singe his nose hairs.
I would never hurt our mate, the dragoness said.
Communicating telepathically blew his mind, unnerving him because he wasn’t sure how much of his thoughts were being shared and how much was private. He sensed O’ne and the dragoness communicated with one another and wondered if he had the ability to pick and choose the receiver or if only dragons could do it.
You have the ability. It takes focus and practice, O’ne said.
You picked up on that? I broadcasted that?
You’ve been broadcasting everything, the dragoness replied. Your mental meanderings are quite amusing.
New paradigm. That had been apparent from the moment he watched O’ne shift from a beautiful human-appearing woman into a thorny, winged, fireball-throwing creature the size of a small jet. The eyes, and her voice, which he heard in his head, remained the same. But that’s when it really hit him he was dealing with two separate individuals, each with a mind and consciousness.
The dragoness had gathered him in her talons, clutched him to her underbelly, and took him on an acrobatic “tour.” They’d soared over towering crags, molten rivers, volcanos, and geyser-like fumaroles. The planet was a pyrotechnic wonder, its land harsh but breathtaking, the perfect home for the Draconians.
You are our mate. It is your home now, the dragoness said.
The simple pronouncement ignited a bittersweet ache. That she accepted him solved one problem, but their future remained uncertain, improbable. According to O’ne, one couldn’t serve the Eternal Fyre and take a mate. Before she’d hidden her emotions, he’d picked up on her fear. He intended to stand by her no matter what, but the “what” could be so beyond his ken, he might be useless to her. What could a mere human offer a demigod anyway?
Your care and concern feeds my fyre, ignites my will to fight, she said.
Crap. He needed to learn how to shield his thoughts pronto.
I will teach you, but I like hearing your honest, open thoughts. I never dreamed I could have a mate, someone who loved me as I am, who did not need anything from me.
I only need you, he replied.
It is mutual.
What’s a demigod? the dragoness asked.
A supernatural being with powers beyond a mortal, he replied.
She tossed her head and bugled. I am a demigod!
The unfiltered honesty amused him, and he almost chuckled.
A priestess is the vessel for the sacred fyre; the vessel cannot be filled with pride, O’ne chastised her.
He sobered, along with
