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Chapter 15

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Nikol took his time responding to his father’s summons. It wouldn’t do to go before Lothar with anything less than perfect reserve, and right now, he couldn’t manage that. He was still bothered by his feelings for Darcy.

Dressing in black pants and a dark gray shirt, he slid several knives in hidden pockets designed along the right leg. At his waist, he added a handheld blaster.

No one would look twice at seeing him walking armed through the massive home. There were too many attempts on his life growing up to be considered accidents. It was a pitfall for any of Lothar’s children as the tutanis vied for power through them.

He stopped to speak to the guards on his way out of the kitse. The reminder was a routine one. “Allow no one inside my kitse.”

“Of course,” Garmon replied.

“As you command,” Tseju said in a vibrant, clear voice, bordering on a yell.

Nikol hid a wince. Garmon had been with Nikol for a few years. Tseju was younger than the guards Nikol had employed in the past but he was Dain’s blooded kin and was diligent in his duties. Sometimes overly so.

The trip through the halls to get to the main part of the house was familiar. Glaring at any who dared meet his gaze kept anyone from approaching. Strength and cruelty were the only things respected by Lothar’s men, so Nikol ensured he portrayed that image.

He almost reached Lothar’s office uninterrupted. His breath eased. Constant warring was taxing.

“Nikol. A moment, please.”

Vizen and Taima stepped into his path from the hall of one of the private visitor wings. Folding his arms across his chest, Nikol glared, ignoring the glances Taima sent him through lowered lashes. “What?”

He made his tone intentionally harsh. Vizen swallowed and forced a jovial expression to his face but his voice quaked when he spoke. “I only wish to remind you of Taima’s availability should you ever wish to test her training. Your father found her more than adequate.”

Nikol’s eyes immediately shot to Taima. He knew what females looked like when his father was done with them. He’d spent enough time in his kitse to see the broken limbs, the scars and severe bruising. The servants excelled in cleaning up the blood left behind.

Stiffening his stance, Nikol asked, “Is this offer open?”

Vizen straightened in triumph, glee flashing across his face. “Of course. Whatever you want, whenever you want. Taima will be honored to please you.”

He bet she would. Especially since Lothar was probably behind the offer. Nikol dropped his arms and stepped to Taima. She leaned forward to rub her voluptuous breasts against him. Her hands remained at her side but she leaned her face into his throat, her height an advantage as she murmured, “I promise to do anything to please you. My mouth, hands and punan are ready to provide you ease.”

Hiding his disgust at the tactics she employed at Lothar or Vizen’s command, Nikol stroked her midnight hair back from a broad face, as he took in her wide nose and light gray eyes. The tips of his fingers glanced over her gold horns and arousal flared in her eyes. Nikol gripped one and yanked her head up and away from him.

“Don’t touch me again unless I give you leave.” He deliberately pressed a finger into the grooves at the base of her horn and blocked out her moan of rapture. The scent of her arousal rose between them. Taima was willing even after experiencing Lothar’s cruelty. For all she knew, Nikol would bring that same level of brutality to the bed. Or worse.

His lips curled. “Not at this time, Vizen. Thank you.”

He let Taima go and stepped around the both of them, not stopping until he reached the door to Lothar’s office. Bracing himself for whatever cunning trap his father planned, he knocked harder than necessary and turned the handle before the command to enter rang out.

To Nikol’s surprise, Lothar wasn’t at his desk as was customary. Instead, he stood in front of the double windows with his hands fisted behind his back. He glanced over his shoulder at Nikol’s entrance and nodded. “Good. You’re here.”

Nikol strode to the left of him and searched the grounds to see what had drawn Lothar’s attention. There was nothing outside the norm to his expert gaze. Patrolling guards, a paved lot for their fleet of hover-cars and hover cycles, and a towering statue of the current Majad in jade and gray marbled stone.

In the far distance, he could make out the fifteen foot high wall that surrounded the gardens leading to his private suite. Darcy was there. He gritted his teeth.

“You wish to see me,” Nikol prodded in a hard voice.

Lothar snorted. “I sent for you. Had nothing to do with wishes.”

Masking his annoyance, Nikol controlled the urge to turn around and leave.

“I’m having a bacchul in two weeks to celebrate the founders. You will attend.” He pierced Nikol with a sharp gaze.

There were better things to do than watch Lothar and his friends engage in sexual excess. “I don’t have time. I’m to leave with Dain in two weeks for the weapons deal you demanded I oversee on Antila.”

“You will also bring a tutanis with you to participate in the festivities,” Lothar continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

Stillness flowed over Nikol. He cut a look at Lothar from the corner of his eyes while pretending to be engrossed with outside. What game was Lothar up to? Nikol had made excuses and missed the last bacchul with no issue. It wasn’t about their gods or ancestors. The party was an excuse to put on a decadent display of sex sharing where Lothar and his associates generously exchanged tutanis back and forth for the evening.

Hating those events was putting it lightly. “What about the Ferandis and Tokuum? There’s little time to prepare as it is.”

Dealing with the two races, who were constantly at odds, was precarious at best. He’d negotiated contracts between them before but in one way or another, things always devolved into a brutal fight and Nikol was forced to intervene. Physically.

“You work best under pressure, Niko. It is one of the things I admire about you, son.”

“Nikol,” he corrected on a growl.

The corners of Lothar’s mouth hiked up and he dipped his head. “As you say.”

Lothar turned away from the window and strode toward his desk, propping his hip on the side. “The bacchul will be at the last hour of the night when the moon is high. You will be there, you will bring a tutanis and you will participate.”

Nikol gritted his teeth. “Fine. Then I’m sure you will excuse me as I have much to do.”

Storming out would reveal his agitation, so Nikol made it a point to take slow deliberate steps to leave.

“Niko!”

Nikol kept walking, freedom from Lothar’s presence only steps away.

“Niko! Here me now.”

Nikol froze, his body trembling. Vengeance was a cold spike pulsing through his chest.

“Do not disappoint me in this. I will trust you only so far, son. Be careful how you deal with me in your arrogance.”

Turning to look over his shoulder, Nikol asked in a deadly voice, “Are you threatening me?”

Completely oblivious, Lothar looked stunned. “I would never harm you.”

Threats came in many forms. Nikol swallowed and yanked the door open.

“Directly,” Lothar added loud enough for him to hear.

Breathing through his nose while he fought for control, Nikol let out a deep breath and stepped out of the office. Now when he needed him more than ever, Dain wasn’t waiting for him in the hall. He’d sent his friend to dismantle the surveillance and tracking devices Lothar routinely planted on Nikol’s ship.

One would think he’d have given up on tracking Nikol’s movements by now. He let Lothar see what he wanted him to see and no more.

In the hall, as he marched down the corridor, Nikol pointed at random men he crossed. “You, you, you. Training room now.”

He had to find a way to work off the level of violence brewing inside of him, searching for a target.

Red hair, blue eyes, groans and moans of ecstasy crossed his mind. His cock swelled almost to the point of pain. Better. There was a better way to assuage this lack of control raging through his veins.

But first, he’d fight and take the edge off this heat boiling to the surface. It wouldn’t do to give in to the Earth woman so soon again when he was still taking her measure.

***

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The afternoon meal passed with no signs of Nikol. Darcy distracted herself by trying to learn the sewing that the women seemed to take so much enjoyment in but it didn’t last long. She stabbed her fingers twice before calling it quits. Computer systems were more her thing.

“I could show you another way to add the thread to the bottom of the shellams,” Stasia offered.

She’d rather poke a fork in her eye. “You all stay and finish. I think I’ll walk in the gardens.”

She eased through the glass doors, which were open to let in a light breeze and roamed the outer gardens, following the path that curved and winded past sprays of flowers in full riot of colors. Trees shaded grottos with a profusion of leaves and large rocks were conveniently arranged for natural seating.

Darcy checked over her shoulder to make sure none of the others had come out after her. Weeks of never having a moment alone made it impossible to investigate the area fully. Lifting the hem of her shellam to keep from tripping, she scurried over to the tall wall that ran around the perimeter of the courtyard.

It was made of stone blocks in a light shade of gold with blue veins running through it. Darcy pressed her hand to the bottom stones looking for give or any protrusions that would allow her to climb. From a distance, the seams appeared even and leveled. Up close, she could see the slight depressions were a finger width wide.

Pressing her toe into a slight ridge, she gripped a thin groove several blocks high above her head and tried to pull up. Her feet slipped and scrabbled, sending her back to the ground on a stumble.

Not one to give up, Darcy kicked off the fancy sandals and tried again. This time she managed to get a solid toe hold. Grunting, she crablike crawled a good two feet up before missing a spot with her feet.

She squealed, legs swinging before managing to jam the tip of her toes in a groove. Darcy leaned her body flat to the wall and waited for her heart to stop its rabbit paced beats. A quick look behind revealed no one coming out to check on her. Swallowing, she continued her slow pace until her head broke the top and she could see over the wall.

Guards. Guards everywhere, armed with what looked like deadly laser rifles that could take a person out in a split second. Dark-haired and with menacing horns, their presence created quite the intimidating image as they marched the premises in a state of readiness.

This looked like a massive stronghold with interconnecting buildings. Landscape was at a minimum except for a small cluster of trees and flowering plants around a green statue of a horned man in a flowing caftan. Off in the distance, brilliant lights and varying rooftops represented a vibrant cityscape.

Squinting, she turned her head left and right. There. A paved lot with hover-cars and hover-cycles. That was how Brax had brought her in. There had to be a transport station near there. If she could steal away on a departing ship, her prayers would be answered.

“Clear!” a voice shouted below.

Darcy jerked and ducked. She waited for the stomp of boots to fade then began her meticulous climb down. Hope sprung to life when she dropped, landing lightly on her feet in the grass.

If she could get to a comp, she could contact the Singles Program on Earth and let them know what had happened to her ship and the passengers. Getting herself to the transport station wouldn’t be easy but she could hide on the first outgoing ship. She swept away the grit dust on her breasts from rubbing along the wall.

“Darcy, we are about to eat. Join us.” Amia was heading toward Darcy, her face wreathed in smiles.

Her stomach growled in response. “I am hungry now that you mention it.”

Amia’s gaze dropped to the marks on Darcy’s torso. The light in her eyes dimming slightly. “Are you hurt? Please be honest.”

Darcy had the feeling her response could do serious damage to Nikol’s character. She hesitated then answered truthfully. “I’m fine. Nikol didn’t hurt me at all.”

Amia’s brow eased and her shoulders lowered. “I hoped he was as he seems.”

On a sudden thought, Darcy spoke. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Yes.”

The instant answer gave Darcy pause and she chuckled. “Just like that?”

Amia laughed and the sound was like the wings of a butterfly fluttering on the wind. Darcy should have been envious but a part of her relaxed. Amia was like the sister she never had and always wanted but her mom never raised enough funds to become impregnated again.

“Ask me what you will.”

Flushing because she knew they’d tried to teach her this time and again but Darcy had blocked it out with a determined will power, she rushed her question out.  “Horns. How do they affect Marenians? Sexually?”

Amia didn’t blink at the question. “You mean in females?”

Darcy choked. “Males.

Amia nodded, her gaze knowing. “I thought you’d never ask. Allow me to share all I know and a few things that would bring a proud male to his knees if one desired.”

“Right,” Darcy forced nonchalance into her voice. “If one desired.”