Kede was reduced to watching Joyce through a vid screen. He kept an eye on her as she left medical after being treated for a my-grain which Resane assured him was non-lethal. He would not comment on his patient’s status except to tell Kede she would not die.
Oaths were taken when a warrior relinquished his blades to enter the healing arts. One such oath required a medico swear fealty to his patient and no other. The largest bending a medico may endure is revealing if a patient’s final darkness lingered.
It did not, so Kede was shown the door.
Now he stalked her as the Terrans called it. Kede saw it as caring for his harae and would not place any other label on his actions.
Labels. He shook his head and sighed. Labels caused so many problems. Labels and Doshan laws and Terran interference. It all came together to separate him from his harae and it strained his control. The warrior inside him wanted to hunt her and put down every male who dared to stare at her.
And yet he could not.
Joyce padded along the pathways, males stepping aside when she approached and lowering their gazes until she passed. She gifted a few lucky males with a small smile.
He had to remind himself he could not call a Kerosa over a smile. A smile his harae readily distributed.
Darkness dammit.
It had been a week since that smile was directed at him. Seven days of sleepless nights and distracted days. Something would have to bend or he would break.
Then no one would be safe.
A low tone alerted Kede to a visitor and he growled out a low order for entry. “Enter.”
The doors parted to reveal Hassee, his friend, dressed in his ceremonial robes worn when required to act as Doshan Ambassador rather than trusted warrior.
“Hassee,” he murmured. “Have a seat.”
The male strode forward, intent on a chair, but his gaze strayed to Kede’s screen, to Joyce working with Yare in the dining hall kitchen. That had Hassee changing direction and moving to the wall. His friend depressed a few buttons on the food crafter and then sought his seat. Hassee slid a small glass of amber liquid across his desk before finally sitting.
“You should drink it in one swallow. The Terrans call it a shot. I am told it is necessary when one is faced with bad news.” His friend did exactly as described, tossing the liquid down his throat and then hissing. “Oh, damn the darkness that burns.”
Kede eyed the glass. “I do not think—”
“As highest ranking officer on the hunk of metal, I order its consumption.”
Now he glared at the male. “Your power extends to interplanetary relations and the accompanying military actions. You cannot order me to—”
“This is very much about interplanetary relations. Drink the whis-kee and stop the arguments.”
“Hassee.”
The ambassador, who always had a clear head, growled at him. “Drink the fekking thing, Kede.”
“Fekking?” He searched his mind for the definition, but came up with no answer.
“Perhaps that is not what was meant. She said…” Hassee shook his head. “No matter. Drink and then we will speak.”
He narrowed his eyes further, but did as his friend demanded. The crafter would not create something that would harm a Doshan. At worst, he swallowed something disgusting and then his friend would explain his sudden visit.
He lifted the glass and tipped it back, draining it in one swallow.
Then he did as Hassee and hissed with the burn. Inhaling made the feeling worse, the liquid feeling as if it stripped the flesh from his throat. He coughed, fighting for air as the glass tumbled from his fingers and thumped to the ground.
“What in the darkness, Hassee?”
“Now we have done the bonding, we must discuss matters surrounding Joyce Enner.”
“You nearly kill me and now is the time to discuss my harae?”
“She is not your harae, Kede.” His friend’s words were a shot to the heart, his truth slicing him with a sharpened blade. “Choices were removed from her and now those actions have repercussions. They must be discussed and then explained to Joyce. She deserves to know.”
Kede snorted. “You spoke with Resane.”
“That is not the point.”
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, noting the changes in his body that accompanied the drink. Relaxation filled his blood and he sunk into his chair. “I will not let her go, Hassee.”
“You cannot keep her. She is not a feral choli to be picked up and claimed, Kede. She has rights as both a Terran and a Doshan. In addition, that change has caused problems with not only our negotiations with them, but with the council as well. They want her, Kede.” He did not like the sound of Hassee’s words.
“Explain.”
“You have many problems, my friend. I do not know where to start.”
“The beginning, Hassee. Always start at the beginning and then we shall solve this problem together.” Kede straightened and propped his elbows on the table. “There has never been anything we could not accomplish.”
“This might not be solved so easily, Kede.”
“There is no glory in quitting.” Kede waved his hand at Hassee. “Speak your words and we will find a way out of this mess.”
“A mess you created.” His friend grunted and leaned forward. “You kidnapped Joyce from Terra.”
“I was there for a choosing,” he volleyed back.
“From a pool of pre-screened volunteers.”
Kede shrugged.
“You kidnapped a female, which means she was also not branded as part of the Planetary Collective. As such, she became property. For a Terran, it is illegal to own another as property. Then you bypassed the rules of mating and verbally claimed her without the agreement of the female or her House.”
“She was not Doshan at that point. If we considered her property, I did not violate that law.”
Hassee glared at him. “That may be the only law you did not break. At that time. For you then genetically modified her. This violates Terran law. Doshans have no rulings on the practice as it has never occurred before. However, you tried to claim her as a Doshan female. Without her agreement and with no family to rule over her,” his friend leaned back and rubbed his forehead, “you have fekked up, my friend.”
Kede tilted his head. “I do believe you mean fucked. Your pronunciation is incorrect.”
“I do not give a flying fek about pronunciation. I care that my friend will lose his harae before he had a chance to solidify his claim!”
Kede slumped. “What should I say, Hassee? I could not leave her behind. I could not help but claim her as my own. I could only keep her at my side as a possession and… I will not let her go.”
Hassee pinched the bridge of his nose. “She has not asked for a marking or planetary brand. She is houseless right now, Kede, and she doesn’t know to ask, and Resane is captured by Doshan laws. He cannot tell her for fear of influencing her decision. A male not of her House cannot advise her and she has no House to lean on.”
“An unprotected female may choose, but it is her responsibility to ask.” It was a bastard version of the law, but it kept Resane’s hands tied.
“She’s learning Doshan as fast as she is able, but has yet to work through the primary texts. She is a youngling still.”
Why had the world conspired against him? “Load the texts to her data pad, highlight the appropriate passages.”
“That seems like—”
“Interference, though I choose to view it as guided education. For now, it is what we can do. What else is hounding you, friend?”
“Terra wants her back regardless of her genetics and you’re being charged with kidnapping and enslavery. The council wants her, but I do not know of their intentions.” Hassee stared at Kede’s tabletop. “The male you challenged in the dining hall is no mere warrior, Kede.”
Kede nodded. He knew every crewmember. “Yes, he’s Councilman Riskz’s nephew. Have we discovered his whereabouts or how he came to have a flare? What about the young engineer Resane took as an assistant? That wasn’t a Doshan design.”
Hassee shook his head. “No. Nothing new. Both disappeared, but that does not mean we shall stop hunting.” His friend paused. “You should enlist security for assistance, Kede. It is what they were trained to do.”
He grimaced. “If I could trust them, I would. But someone got a crude flare to Ambassador Martins and she almost escaped with Joyce. It was not a Terran who assisted her in securing the device since there were no others on the ship nor had any come to the ship recently. A Doshan provided it to her and I do not know if I can trust my men, Hassee. You and Resane… there is no doubt of your loyalty. Not just as Houses aligned with Tria, but as fellow warriors and strong males.”
“Word has spread. Members of the council are on their way and I am not hearing good reports about the other Terran females in Doshan care, Kede. None have been harmed or altered, but now that males know of this possibility. That they can have a Doshan female who does not require their male remain on planet…” His friend stared at him. “The problems are coming to a head. We have the Terrans on one side and the council on the other. The Planetary Coalition is not far behind. Your only salvation lies in Joyce.”
Kede closed his eyes, shutting out the vision of Hassee and bringing Joyce to mind. “How?”
“You must convince her to accept you and she must be willing, Kede. Only then do you have the protection of your mating to keep Joyce from the council, the Terrans and the Collective. A male’s decision is absolute and a mate bond is unbreakable even by the most powerful in the Collective. It is the only way.”
Kede was afraid he’d say that.
Damn the darkness.
Joyce pasted yet another smile on her face, ignoring that no one returned her silent greeting. Each time she stepped from the room she had to remind herself that she wasn’t surrounded by Terrans. Doshans wouldn’t smile back and they sure as heck weren’t pretending they were happy.
Frowns. Frowns everywhere.
If it wasn’t a frown, it was pure terror.
Then again, she imagined that was due to Kede and his Kerosa thing.
Honor Challenge.
Over her.
She shook her head. Why fight—to the death—over a Terran turned slave, turned harae, turned Doshan, turned harae?
Her varying statuses and how quickly they’d changed gave her a headache.
At least a couple of things remained the same-ish. Like before, she padded toward the dining hall to help Yare. Later she had a learning session with Resane, and at some point she’d have official testing to determine her aptitude and position in Doshan society.
Almost thirty and she had to endure SAT testing. Again. Ugh. Well, the SATs plus eye exam. She’d never been assigned a job because of her eye color before. Weird. Then again, being suddenly Doshan was weird, too.
The dining hall panels slid wide and she strode through without hesitation, one destination in mind. As always, the conversation hushed as she passed, only to resurge the moment she left the vicinity.
Instead of snapping at them, reminding each male she was a Doshan like everyone else, she kept walking. Nothing good would come of arguing with the males.
She padded past another table of men, their attentions on their meals. How sad was it that she was relieved they hadn’t noticed her?
Very. Very, very sad.
Her steps quieted by the biopad, she continued on her path, winding around bolted down tables and randomly scattered chairs. She inwardly sighed as she tucked one to the side. Terran or Doshan, a male couldn’t put the seat back where they’d found it.
Even better, there was a half-eaten plate of food resting nearby.
Men. Blech.
Joyce leaned across the polished surface and snagged the nearly empty tray. She dragged it toward her and stood, gripping the metal in her hands. She turned, ready to resume her trek, and squeaked when she came face-to-chest with one of the ship’s males.
She pasted a smile on her face, one that was cordial, but not welcoming. She was to start her shift with Yare and didn’t have a lot of time to chat. Then again, this was the first male who’d even approached her. Should she rush him off so quickly?
Bright light she’d love to have a conversation with someone other than Resane or Yare.
Her new reality included Doshan males. If she wanted a mate, a family, it required one of the large men with more muscles than sense. Okay, that wasn’t fair. So far, Kede was the only man she’d encountered who had more muscles than sense.
And damn, he had a lot of muscles. Yum.
The man before her squirmed and she realized she’d been staring without saying a single word.
“Oh, sorry.” She fought the blush warming her cheeks. “Is this your tray?” She turned to place it on the table once again. “I didn’t see anyone—”
“No, Mistress. I…” He frowned and stared at what she held. “You should not be doing this, Mistress. It is not a task for females.” His annoyance vanishing, he jerked his head in a quick nod as if he’d decided something. “You do not have a House—”
“I don’t need a house, I have my quarters.” She furrowed her brow. Houses on spaceships? That seemed like a waste of room. Even if they converted the attics to storage or extra rooms…
“You do not talk of your quarters, Mistress. It invites trouble from males.” He tsk’ed at her as if it he were chastising a young one. “I was worried that you do not have a House and I could not petition for your company. Then I thought on the ancient texts and believe that I can perform tasks to earn your favor and then you can decide for yourself if you shall grant me your time. That is not against the laws.” He stood taller, pulling his shoulders back and pressing his fist to his heart in salute. “I am stating my intentions.”
“I…” Joyce tilted her head to the side in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Joyce?” Yare’s voice rose above the surrounding murmurs. “Do you need assistance?”
“I have done nothing wrong.” The man before her faced off against the frowning Yare.
“I did not ask you, I asked Joyce,” Yare snapped, bristling at the stranger’s tone.
Dear light, she was being assaulted by testosterone. Which was the last thing she needed in the middle of the dining hall. They’d already played this game and no one better whip out massive knives.
“She is Mistress Enner, Yare Lor-en.”
“I know her name. She has given me permission to address her as such.” Yare seemed to grow before her eyes, standing taller, welcoming eyes hardening as he stared at the stranger. “Joyce?”
“Uh… I don’t…” She focused on the stranger. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
The man snapped to attention, standing tall while pressing his fist over his heart in salute once again. “Second Engineer Dexal of the House Ozar.”
“Nice to meet you, Dexal.” She smiled. Even though she knew it was filled with confusion, he seemed to beam with happiness. Joyce turned to Yare. “Dexal was assisting me with this tray and, uh, stating his intentions.”
“Intentions?” Yare’s voice was soft and scary as a motherfucker. His gaze was like stone, but she sensed the barely suppressed violence within him. Oh, she hoped Yare didn’t have a set of those Ginsu knives. “You dare?”
Dexal bristled at Yare’s censure but did not back down beneath her friend’s anger. “She does not have a House and the ancient texts allow—”
“Ancient texts? That is the basis for your actions? You believe—”
“She is without a House. Females without a House, and who have not requested a House’s protection, can be approached by males directly. It is the law.”
There was definitely a lot missing from her general Doshan box-o-knowledge. Such as, what the hell did a house have to do with dating? Because, really, that’s what it boiled down to. At least she thought so.
“Commander Tria has declared—”
Oh, she should have been paying better attention. Joyce wiggled her way between the snarling males and pushed them apart. “Okay, back this up. Kede said what?” Dexal frowned while Yare gritted his teeth. Neither male said a word. “I got all day.”
Joyce even tapped her foot for good measure.
Yare was the first to break and she knew that stemmed from their friendship and his lingering guilt. Ever since her accident he was big into sharing. Almost to the point of over sharing. “Commander Tria ordered all males retain their distance until your House status and planetary affiliation can be officially recognized. You are not eligible for claiming. It is not the law, but he is able to encourage his warriors to behave in a way he deems appropriate, as we have never had a Doshan female on the ship before. The law is hazy on this type of situation.”
“Uh-huh. So, pretending I’m not a transitional citizen of Dosha and actually a natural born citizen, is there anything that states I cannot be approached? I mean,” she paused and forced herself to calm. How dare he make another decision about her life? “Assuming all things equal, if I were a female on Dosha with no House, what could happen?”
Yare pinched his lips together and Dexal spoke. “A female without a House may request House status from any council member who already has a harae. If she chooses not to secure House status, she may operate as her own Holder of House, adhering to the laws of the council.”
“It is not done,” Yare interjected and she found herself watching a verbal tennis match.
“That does not mean it is against the law.”
“A female cannot operate her own House. She must have the protection of a male.”
Oh, Yare just lost some friend points.
“Females create life. Do you not think they can live it without interference?”
And Dexal just got Yare’s friend points.
“And your intentions would not be considered interference?”
Well, score one for Yare. He had a point.
“It would still be her choice.” Dexal clenched his jaw. “She has not chosen a House and she has not accepted a Planetary Collective brand.”
“Can we have one person at a time speaking, please?” She burst into the staring contest. “Explain everything in very small words with one or two syllables each.”
A low cough alerted her to the gathering crowd and she groaned.
“Are you injured, Mistress?” Dexal was the first to respond, but a good dozen sets of eyes focused on her, seeming to hold their breath and wait for her answer. Impending violence vibrated the air and she knew groaning was a very bad thing.
“No, I’m…” Surrounded by horny aliens, “fine. Can one of you answer the House-no House issue and whether I can date or not?” She focused on Dexal. “That’s what you wanted, right? You want to date?”
“Date.” His mouth echoed the movement of her lips. “Date?”
“Yes. Date. Two people spend time together to see if they are well matched. Eventually it leads to marriage. Um, claiming a harae.” She wasn’t sure which words came out as Doshan and which emerged as Terran, but he seemed to get the idea.
“Yes. That is my wish, Mistress. To date.” Dexal smiled widely, pure happiness filling his gaze and she couldn’t suppress the one that jumped to her own lips.
“Okay.” She nodded. “I have to get this House stuff straight in my head, but I will contact you once I have sorted everything out.”
The large crowd eased closer, men nudging others aside to get nearer, and Joyce imagined them shoving forward until she was lost beneath a sea of alien combat boots.
“Mistress Enner, I am…”
“I am of the House…”
“First Engineer, Mistress…”
Oh, suddenly she was the hottest girl on the ship—the only girl on the ship—and they all wanted to date. That was so not happening.
“Look, lemme figure things out, okay? You heard me tell Dexal that, right?” One blue-green-eyed guy elbowed a purple-yellow-eyed guy who knocked him into a teal-orange guy and then all the colors of the rainbow were not playing well with others.
Someone shoved Dexal into her and then she slumped against Yare which had him bellowing and…
Joyce saw her life, lives, flash before her eyes. There was no love or marriage or a horse and carriage. There was a lot of pencil pushing, getting yelled at and deeply tanned skin, though.
The fight edged closer, fists flying, yells of words she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to know filled the air and the crunch of metal reached her ears more than once.
Another surge, another stumble, and then Joyce took to the tables. She crawled atop the one at her back, the big slabs of bolted down, unmoving metal, an immovable safe haven from imminent ouchies.
More than one set of hands reached for her, but she dodged the touches, choosing instead to race away. She was never talking to, nor coming into contact with, another Doshan for as long as she lived.
Joyce jumped from the table and of course landed funny because God, in whatever form he took, hated her a little bit. She limped and hobbled toward the dining hall’s exit. The battle continued behind her, but she kept her mind trained on fleeing.
Crewmembers ceased to matter, the massive males jogging past her and toward the dining hall didn’t bother her a bit. Nope, not when she was intent on getting to medical. Resane could lock her in, patch her up, and hide her if necessary. She knew that not even Kede could get past Resane’s codes, the medico’s power absolute inside his domain.
“Joyce!” a male called, but she didn’t recognize him. For all she knew, he was an escaped dining hall horny boy.
Nope. Not happening. She hobbled farther, heading toward the lift doors that stood a mere twenty feet away. The whole time her plan swam through her mind.
Call the lift. In the lift. Get to med deck. Fall into medical. Fin.
She could do this. The rapid, pounding thump of her pursuer neared and she slammed her hand on the call pad, nearly sobbing when the doors immediately parted. She practically fell into the lift, collapsing to her knees and crawling the last couple of feet. Her dash was slowed by a hand on the back of her leg, palm sliding down her thigh and tightening on her calf. She glanced back to meet a man’s black and red-eyed gaze. A bolt of fear pummeled her, attacking her spine while dumping adrenaline into her blood. Everything inside her, both Terran and Doshan, screamed at her to Get The Fuck Out.
There was something wrong about those colors, something that struck a long forgotten visceral part of her Doshan body. Go, go, go.
Whispering an apology to God and the bright light on the off chance they were two different deities, she brought her good leg up and then slammed it down on the man’s grip. It jarred her aching ankle, but screw it. This male had nothing but pain in mind for her. There was no doubt he wanted to harm her.
Well, she’d give her own bit of agony. Another kick was followed by another, and still he wouldn’t relent.
Dammit.
So far she’d gone after just his hands, but… “Dude, I so don’t wanna break that pretty face.”
He smiled. One that told her she really, really didn’t want him catching her.
“Screw it.” She hauled her leg back again and went right at the male’s features.
Joyce kicked out with her left leg while tugging her right, and her foot connected with a squicky crunch of bone and spontaneous flow of blood. He grinned through the ribbons of red, exposing straight white teeth.
Panic overrode good sense, her body screaming at her that flight was good any fucking time now and Joyce should get her fat ass off the mother fucking elevator floor all-fucking-ready.
Damn, her fight or flight response was a cursing bitch.
She went after him again, this time nailing him in those shining white teeth. Between that strike and the racing approach of other males, Joyce’s flight instincts got her free, got her on the damned elevator and got the doors closed.
The moment they slid shut, she slumped against the wall. Air heaved in and out of her lungs, body fighting for oxygen while she tried to ignore the pain pumping through her. Oh shit, that had not been an enjoyable experience.
The elevator—screw calling it a lift just because Kede said so—dinged at her, a gentle request for a destination.
“How about up Kede’s ass?” she grumbled. It beeped at her again. “Medical. Override, Kiss My Ass.”
That’d been fun to program. Resane trying to give her access to ship’s functions while she griped about Kede. That equaled Joyce’s commands being peppered with some of her favorite Terran curses.
The elevator whooshed into action, the change hardly discernable as she rose through the ship. Her only clue at movement was due to a hint of pain in her ankle that came with the motion.
“Fuck,” she murmured and the elevator dinged at her in question.
She needed new curses.
“Continue.” A beep sounded in confirmation and it didn’t take much longer for her to finally arrive at her destination.
The elevator slid to a stop, the change in direction subtle, and then the gray—what the hell was up with the gray?—doors parted.
More gray. She needed to introduce these guys to color. Maybe some bright sunny yellows to bring life to the ship.
“Joyce?” Resane came toward her, rounding one of the med units and then panic filled his gaze. He was the chief medico, skilled in all manner of bodily repair both Doshan and alien, yet still he paled.
“I think it’s worse than it looks.” Joyce glanced down her body, noting the wrinkles and tears, the splotches of God knew what, and the blood that stained the bottom of her pants. She plucked at the blood soaked hem, tugging in an effort to raise the fabric. “You see, what happened was…”
Kede bypassed the lifts and jogged straight toward the nearest engineering access panel. He ripped the grate from its hinges, disregarding the warning tones from the ship’s systems. Operational engineering would be notified of the breach but by the time they responded, he’d be at his destination.
The sounds of battle—grunts, yells, and shouts—reached him as he crawled past the fighting. The altercation quickly spread from the dining hall and beyond, spilling into the corridors.
As ship’s commander, he should have waded into the mass of violent bodies and brought order to the commotion.
As a male worried for his harae and unknowing of her condition, he felt the males could kill each other. He had no fucks to give.
“Catch her before she gets away!” The bellow rang his ears, the man’s voice shaking the passageway.
Bastards would not touch her.
“Plant it, dammit!”
Plant it?
Plant what?
Who was that?
Another loud yell, this one drowned out by the rising battle, had him moving. Security could handle the mess.
Kede continued his path until he hit the junction beside the lift. He tore at the hatch, wrenching it open, and then began his ascent. Hand over hand, he climbed the small ladder, rising higher with each shift of muscle. The fit was tight, meant for a single Doshan male to traverse. Smaller Doshans at that. The path was not built for a battle-ready warrior, but he did not let the tight confines deter him.
He had to get to his harae. He refused to let a tunnel thwart him.
Level after level disappeared and it was not long before he neared medical. Joyce’s voice was timid, but not laced with pain. That was all that saved the fighting males. Had they hurt her…
“You see, what happened was…” Joyce sounded timid and unsure. That too was unacceptable. If Resane’s demeanor caused such a response…
“You’re covered in blood!” If the words weren’t enough to alarm him, Resane’s tone had him tearing through the grate.
With a roar, he shoved at the panel, sending the metal scraping over medical’s flooring, leaving deep gouges in the biopadding. The couple near the door jerked, Resane bolted forward, putting himself between Kede and Joyce.
The male would receive a medal for his bravery after Kede killed him for getting between him and Joyce.
And Joyce… scrambled away from him, hands and legs hunting for purchase on the soft ground. She was fearful. His Joyce. The female who screamed of probing and deadly chocolate, fought to get away.
She was not the strong, fierce female he recalled.
Unacceptable.
Kede climbed through the portal with a snarl, his inner-rage bubbling to the surface. It nearly overflowed when he finally paused to look at Joyce, to see the slashes in her clothing and the… the blood soaking the fabric.
The roar would not be contained. It bubbled in his chest, his ancestors seeming to come to life inside him. He thundered with rage filling his veins. The weight of the elders of his House pummeled him, sending his anger soaring.
They dared.
They. Dared.
“I will gut them where they stand,” he rasped, his lips hardly able to form words. “Give me the names.”
He could not tear his gaze from the blood-soaked fabric, from the wounds it must shield from his eyes.
He did not think he could take seeing the injuries.
He did not think he could hide from them.
“Kede! What—”
He ignored Resane and kept his gaze trained on his harae. “Tell me their names, Joyce and they will be no more.”
He had no blade, but his hands would suffice.
“What?” Joyce shook her head and ceased fleeing from him. “I’m fine, Kede.”
He stared at the blood, at the sheer volume of the red fluid. “No, you cannot be. I know you are trying to be strong my—Joyce—but I will have the head of the male who injured you. Speak it to me and it will be done.”
It would help him be rid of his fury.
Her gaze traveled from him to the streaks of blood she’d left on the biopad, and then back to him. “This isn’t from me, Kede. I promise. I kicked the hell out of one of your warriors. That’s all. I swear.”
Kede was sure her words were intended to calm him.
They did not.
“It’s not my blood, Kede.” Her words were soft, pleading with him, and he realized why.
His right hand ached, throbbed in time with his pulse, and he noticed he’d somehow snatched Resane’s ceremonial blades from the wall. He did not recall doing so. However, they would be useful.
A medico gave them up when he took his oath, but they always remained near to remind a healer of his past and why the present was so important to Dosha.
Kede now clutched that history, fingers gripping so hard he knew it would not be long before he bled.
He raised his gaze from Joyce and scanned the room for his friend. He noted the medico stood firmly against the opposite wall, hands at his side and no hint of aggression in his stance.
Good. Kede would hate to kill his childhood friend.
“Kede,” Joyce whispered his name and he focused on her once again.
What he saw enraged him even further. “Who struck you, my harae?”
She did not correct him and he held the small victory close to his heart.
“I’m fine. I said that.”
He shook his head and lowered to the ground beside her. The bruise on her cheek worried him. The ones on her arms infuriated him. He could only imagine the condition of her leg. If a warrior snatched her and ended up bleeding all over her due to her struggles… The soon-to-be dead man had been very close, indeed.
Kede relinquished his hold on the blade, his heart now urging him to care for Joyce rather than begin his hunt. They were on a starship. Her attacker could not hide for long.
“Come. Let me assist you now.” He did not allow her to tell him no. He could not take her denial now.
She weighed nothing in his arms, light and soft against him as he carried her toward the biobed. Resane’s systems could assure him of her well-being.
Joyce gasped when he placed her on the smooth surface, but she also did her best to suppress the whimper.
It did not work.
“Joyce…” She had lied and now he would hunt and—
“I want you to stay with me, Kede. You can take your Ginsu knives out later.”
He did not know the term, Ginsu, but he imagined she tried to distract him with her native language and unknown words. He narrowed his eyes, searching for any hint of deception and found none. “Very well. I will postpone the Kerosa until your injuries are examined. It will allow me to determine how long your attackers live and how much they shall suffer.”
Joyce shook her head and sighed, mumbling about asshole males.
“Are you speaking of me, my harae? I have an asshole, but I am not an asshole. I do not understand.” He needed to speak with Hassee. The male seemed more familiar with Terran slang and curses despite his inability to pronounce the words correctly.
“Nothing.” She plucked at her pants, the fabric drying and sticking to her skin. “Resane? Is there something else I can wear? Nothing’s broken, I swear. I just don’t want his blood on me any longer.” She shuddered and Kede did not give a bit of darkness if Resane agreed or not.
His harae would have alternate clothing or the male would die.
When Resane brought forward a medico uniform, Kede decided Resane could live.
Kede took the small bundle from his friend. “Turn your back,” he snarled.
The sound was cut off when Joyce snagged the fabric from him. “You turn your back.”
“I will assist you.”
“I know how to get dressed.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You have been injured. I shall ensure—”
“I can do it myself.” Joyce edged to the rim of the bed and kicked her feet, hopping to the ground.
Except she continued to collapse, body folding beneath her weight, and he was quick to snatch her to him. “You are weaker than a newborn youngling.” He breathed deeply, enjoying her scent so close. “I assisted you once before, Joyce. Allow me to do so again.”
A small shudder racked her and he wondered if it was due to fear or excitement. Knowing the mistakes he’d made, he was sure it was truly due to anger.
He could not blame her.
“Fine,” she gritted her teeth and he remained still. “Don’t watch.”
“Of course.” Those were the two words he voiced. Silently, he added three others. I will try.
The top was simple to replace and he pretended not to notice the bruises marring her Doshan skin. The deep hue hid much, but it could not cloud the swaths of purple defacing her body.
She clutched him tightly as she removed her shoes and tugged the bottoms free. Blood still stained her skin, but that was simple enough to wash away. At least the soiled fabric would not cling to her flesh any longer.
She tossed the pants aside and with his help, she carefully donned the new pair.
All the while he drank in the vision of her curved body with his eyes.
She was Doshan, and yet not.
Where their females were hard and strong, built for a rough life on their home planet, Joyce was small and curved, a lush armful even though he had not held her very often.
The moment she tugged everything in place, he lifted her onto the bed, laying her gently atop the equipment. “One moment, my harae.”
“I’m not—”
He turned his back to her, unwilling to hear the words fall from her lips yet again.
She might not be his at that moment, but he refused to lose her. Consequences for failure be damned to the darkness. He wanted Joyce. Not because of what their mating could do for his career, but what it would mean for the rest of his life.
He wanted to die with her at his side.
He could not do that if she would not remain there.
Mainly because kidnapping was still illegal.
“Resane, you may return,” he called to his friend and gathered the soiled clothing, taking it to a nearby station.
The blood would be analyzed and the attackers identified. Those with the most biological material marring the fabric would be first to taste Kede’s blade. By the time he made it to the end of the list, he may be merciful and merely cut off an arm rather than take the male’s life.
He could be a kind, merciful warrior.
Resane quickly returned. He did not glance at Kede as the medico began his work. The machines whirred and beeped, hovering over Joyce for a brief moment before moving on.
A holo of her body appeared before the scanner, circles gently pulsing along the projected image. Kede knew enough to see that the red circles meant locations of her injuries.
“You are not injured badly,” Resane murmured.
“She should not have been injured at all!” Kede roared and then sucked in a harsh breath. He must control his anger for fear of frightening Joyce.
He risked a glance at her and noted the rolling of her eyes. She was annoyed then. Not scared.
He was not sure if that was better.
Fighting for calm, he returned his attention to Resane. “How long will it take to heal the damage? What damage is there?”
The chief medico shot him a glare, but returned to his task.
“Resane,” he snapped.
Finally his friend focused on him and then on Joyce. “It is your choice if you let him stay. You know my vow of silence extends to him as well.”
Joyce finally turned her gaze to Kede. “You won’t leave, will you?”
“No. You may not like me, I know you do not love me, and I know you deny my claim, but I will fight to stay at your side.” He kept his attention on her so she could see the depths of his feelings.
She sighed and looked to Resane. “I don’t agree with half of what he said, but I just want him gone. The sooner you tell us both what’s wrong, the sooner he gets gone.”
The medico glared at him once again.
Kede did not care. The male could glare until the bright light took him and still he would stay at Joyce’s side.
“Very well.” Resane manipulated the holo of Joyce’s body, moving his fingers and circling certain areas. The machine responded to his movements, sliding and hovering over different parts of her until only a single, pulsing red circle remained.
It was then that the medico stopped and rested his hands on the biobed. “All done. You will ache a little for one day, maybe two, but everything is healed.”
Kede furrowed his brow in confusion and stepped forward. He pointed at the red area, not penetrating the holo but making sure he directed Resane’s attention to the appropriate spot. “What about there? That still persists. Repair it.”
Resane looked like he would happily choke Kede.
Kede did not care.
“Fix it.” He punctuated his statement with a forceful poke. He came close to disturbing the holo, but kept himself in check.
“Joyce requested it remain in place at this time.”
“What is ‘it’? ‘It’ should be repaired. I order it.”
Resane took a deep breath. “It remains as my patient demands. It is not harmful.”
“The biobed disagrees. Take it out.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I order it.” He growled the words at his friend.
“If you had jurisdiction over a patient’s healthcare, I would follow your order. You do not. So, I do not.”
“I am Commander Kede Tria-se,” he glared at Joyce and dared her to correct him. She did not, so he continued. “Commander of the Vehly and Holder of House Tria. I demand it be removed from my harae.”
Tension filled the woman resting on the biobed between them and he accepted he may have gone a little too far. The harae portion of his demand was what probably caused her stiffening.
“Kede?” Her voice was too calm. His mother used the same tone on his father and the outcome was never good. They did have many long hours of mating after his appropriate apology so perhaps this was not a bad thing. “It’s staying. Period. End of story. Resane and I have discussed its presence and, at this time, it needs to remain in place.”
He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. “What is ‘it’?” He tore his stare from her to Resane and back again. “I demand an explanation.”
“Is that an order from my master?” She spat the words and he mentally groaned.
“That is not what happened and you know this, Joyce. Your designation meant nothing to anyone on the Vehly. Were you not given free access to the ship? Were you not able to do whatever you desired?” He sighed and stared at her wounded eyes. “I cannot change the laws, my Joyce. I can only work within them and try to make you happy.” He shrugged. “I am only one male in a galaxy of trillions.”
Some of her anger drained away, but he dare not hope he would be forgiven. He had done research on Terran history and learned the meaning of slave and property. He could not deny that Terran past mirrored their present. It did not sit well with him, but he could not change it. At least, not yet.
“Joyce, I have made many mistakes. I would like to fix them. But no matter what has transpired, it does not mean I do not worry for you. I care for you. Now,” he tilted his head toward the still pulsing ring, “what is wrong?”
She rolled her eyes, telling him once again he’d annoyed her. Annoyed was better than furious and disgusted. “It’s not a big deal. It’s an IUD. I had it implanted when I first started,” she blushed, her cheeks adopting a hint of pink. “Resane?”
Kede frowned and turned to his friend.
“Terran females go through a Needing every turning. This device ceases the ability to carry offspring during that time.” Resane’s grim tone told Kede more than words could convey. To deny the bright light its choice in creating life…
Blasphemous.
“You must remove it at once!” He did not care that he shouted.
Joyce did though. “Look, it’s my body. And it’s not a Needing or whatever you call it. Terran women menstruate once a month. This device has kept that from happening. It acts as a pregnancy blocker. That’s it. It’s not hurting anything.”
“The biobed disagrees since it is recommending removal.” Kede shook his head. “Joyce, it should not be present. Even if you do not wish to sate your Needing and risk pregnancy, you cannot allow that thing to remain inside you.”
“I want it there,” she hissed at him. “I didn’t choose to come here, I didn’t choose to be drafted as some alien ambassador, and I didn’t ask to become Doshan. I have not controlled a single thing since I met you, Kede. This, this is my decision.”
Kede winced and grimaced, unable to fight her words since they were nothing but the truth. “I understand. It would be best, though, Joyce. Resane?”
He silently begged the male to help him.
Resane nodded. “I have said this many times, Joyce. The device was meant for Terran physiology. Doshans are similar but not exact matches. I cannot tell you what will happen if it remains.”
“I know.”
“It may damage you so you cannot…”
“So I cannot carry young. I know.”
Kede felt as if he were struck in the chest. Joyce not have young? Impossible. She was fierce and passionate and strong. She should pass those traits on to sons and daughters. The Doshans could have no better female adding to their numbers.
Kede could have no better female adding to his House. He ached to see her heavy with his offspring, to have her cuddling their child.
“Joyce,” he whispered her name, unable to breathe past the lump in his throat. “Please. I beg of you. If you do not consent to be my harae, I will live by your decision. I will give you anything you desire. I will bow to your every whim. But for the love of the light, have this device removed.” She opened her mouth to speak and he imagined all manner of curses she ached to rain down on him. He did not refute that they were deserved. “The galaxy deserves to have young with your strength, with your fire. They will destroy any enemy with a single look, just as you crush me. All should witness and revel in that passion. I do not ask it for me, but for the rest of us. Please.”
Joyce sniffled and he recognized the shininess of her eyes, which meant she would soon be leaking. He’d become familiar with the process. “Hit a girl while she’s down, huh?”
He opened his mouth to assure her he had not struck her when medical’s doors parted, admitting several crewmembers. Easily a dozen males spilled from the lift. They were bloody and bruised, a few cradling arms or hands to their chests while others limped. At least one had a bloody nose that still dribbled the liquid down their uniform.
Disgusting.
And against his orders.
He squared off against the approaching males, ignoring their feminine whines and complaints. Joyce endured their rough treatment and still managed to cut him with her tongue.
Weaklings.
“How dare you enter while the female you abused is undergoing treatment!”
“Commander…” One of the males dared speak up and Kede was across the room in a moment. He had the warrior by the neck between one breath and the next. It took no strength to press him against the wall, fingers crushing his throat.
“You do not speak in her presence,” he hissed.
No one spoke. Not a single Doshan. It was easy to see he rode the killing edge. It would not take much to slide over the side and destroy every male in the room. Only Joyce would be safe. His Joyce, his harae.
Adrenaline, the fire of battle, pummeled him and urged him to eliminate the warriors. They were a threat to his joining with Joyce. They would demand they sate her Needing once Resane removed the device.
That would not happen.
No. Wait. His thoughts were rolling and splitting, but the thing he craved above all was to be alone with his harae.
“Kede?” Her voice was soft. “I don’t think you’re allowed to kill him because he stumbled into a room.”
He believed that was an appropriate reason. However, she was correct. Command would not look favorably upon his actions.
Accepting his defeat by logic, he dropped the male, allowing him to crumble to his knees. Without another look, he moved toward Joyce, intent on keeping the others back. Regardless of their injuries, she was first.
“Resane?”
His friend tore his worried gaze from the gathered males and focused on Kede. “Yes, Commander?”
“May she be released into my care?”
Joyce opened her mouth, probably to tell him to go to the darkness, but she snapped her teeth together.
“Yes. She must stay in bed for the remainder of the day.” Resane nodded.
“And the other?” He let his gaze flick to the still visible holo of her body.
“The other must be decided by Joyce.” The medico’s voice was firm and unbreakable.
“As you wish.” He tilted his head in acknowledgement. It simply meant he must be very convincing.
He reached for Joyce, but a male’s voice had him halting. “Her clothing, Commander?”
He gave the male a suspicious look, wondering how he knew the fabric belonged to his harae. Though he had to admit the uniform was that of an ambassador. Since the only Terran ambassador on the Vehly was Joyce, he imagined it was simple deduction.
He did not, however, like others touching her clothing. Especially since it represented a list of challengers.
“Thank you,” he glanced at the male’s rank designation. “Second Engineer.”
He held the small bundle and turned toward his harae. Resane could provide a bag. The last thing he wished was for Joyce to have the blood of another on her skin. He glanced for an appropriate place for the pile while he assisted Joyce, but she took the choice from him.
“Here, give me this stuff.” She reached for the clothing, he tried to snatch it away, and the only thing accomplished was for the bundle to fall to the ground.
Or rather, it would have fallen had a flare not been activated at that moment.
One second, the fabric was within the ship and the next, it was not.
Just like Joyce would not have been.
Kede released an echoing roar, one that he was sure could be heard at the command bridge, and spun to face the males now pressed against the wall. He scanned each face, intent on venting his rage on the unfortunate souls who disobeyed his order to stay away from medical. Which of them threatened yet again to take her from him. He was unsure if the male lingered in the group, but the dozen men seemed like excellent targets.
Or rather, the eight men seemed like excellent targets.
Kede Tria-se learned to count to twelve at the age of one. Even earlier, he knew how to count to eight.
He also knew the difference between twelve and eight which meant four males were missing.