 
# Racing Hearts

### Shadow Quest 4.5

## Kiersten Fay

### Contents

Dear reader...

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Praise for Shadow Quest

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

chapter 3

Chapter 4

More Great Books by Kiersten Fay

Copyright
**Dear reader...**

This short story gives a glimpse into the world of Kiersten Fay's Shadow Quest series; a steamy paranormal & sci-fi romance series of full length novels available now.

* * *

Please enjoy!

# 1

Priya Galion released a long pent up sigh, descended the landing bay ramp, and then planted her boot on to the solid metal platform of the dreary spaceport. The metallic tinge of musty, recycled air flooded her lungs, along with the familiar cloying scent of rust and sweat.

Excitement danced in her chest.

Her journey had finally come to an end.

Now the real fun begins.

Gripping her luggage handle in one fist, she thanked the transport ship's steward before striding forward in search of her next destination.

As she wound through a crowd of roughnecks, she noticed a pattern of conspicuous stains on the dark-green bulkhead to her left, probably from a recent brawl. A good one by the looks of it.

The domed quartz glass ceiling provided a murky view of space. She squinted past the thick film of grime to see another ship pulling in where hers had just departed. A few more ships were lined up behind it, waiting to unload passengers. Were they all as intoxicated with anticipation as she was?

A stranger's masculine voice sounded from behind. "Do you need a guide, sweetie?"

She rolled her eyes and turned around, keeping her right side angled away from him out of habit. Usually, that was the side she wore her pulsar gun, but according to the rules of this particular establishment, she was not allowed to keep a weapon on her immediate person. She could, however, stow it in her bag for easy access.

In place of her customary security work belt she'd tied a stylish strip of fabric over her brown tunic dress with burgundy stripes that matched her hair.

The man lowered his eyes to her bare legs and black knee-high boots with obvious interest. His features weren't terrible, but he wouldn't win any beauty contests. His nose had clearly been broken more than once. His dark hair was a mess. And when he peered back up at her face, he grinned, revealing a full set of crooked teeth. Oh, and two in the back were missing. Lovely. His gruff type were typical here in these far-away space ports.

Schooling her features, she replied, "I'm looking for a ship—"

"I got a ship for you," he interrupted with innuendo buried in the layers of his voice.

An entourage of rough and tumble onlookers chortled. With their matching stained uniforms and equally unkempt hair, they had the appearance of everyday grunt workers.

"A tiny one, no doubt," she countered and then smirked when the hard lines of his mouth fell into a petulant frown.

His friends, however, thought her response was hilarious. They guffawed boisterously. One slapped him on the back—the most masculine way to comfort another male while laughing at his expense. These weren't bad men, just products of a hard life and a serious lack of civilized influence. Not that she was any better. She'd practically been raised in places like this.

"The craft I seek is about to be entered in Phase Nine," she told them. "I've been petitioned to join the crew."

The laughter cut off and a round of brows shot up. Their surprise was natural, not because she was a woman entering the most dangerous competition in the known universe. No. Even the most hardened of men would have received incredulous looks. Many who enter Phase Nine didn't live through to the end. The race had few hard-set rules and spanned vast distances of space. Sabotage and murder, though frowned up on, was unfortunately par for the course. A ship without a good crew and heavy defenses wouldn't be expected to last long at all.

Ah, but she wasn't joining just any crew. She would be captained by a man who had not only run the race before, but had won it. And she fully intended to be with him when he did it again.

Silently eyeing her with new respect, two of the men pointed toward a corridor while the others continued to gape. Instant celebrity. Throughout the course of the race, her name and the names of her crewmates would become infamous for a time.

She nodded in thanks and headed toward the direction they'd indicated.

After a few steps, the first man called out, "Pray, tell me your name, beautiful lady, so I can cheer for you."

Blowing them a kiss, she replied with a wave of her hand, "You'll just have to watch the show, Sugar." It was the thing people loved most about Phase Nine. Strategically placed cameras would provide entertainment to over thirty planets and countless space cities. Every fifty years, the race became a universal obsession. Some of the most dedicated fans quit their jobs just to watch the twenty-four hour feed. Already there were screens mounted, scanning the docking bay where a variety of ships were lined up, their crews waiting to register. That was where she needed to be. That was where she'd find her captain.

The wide passageway was crowded with individuals trying to get through, and she had to push her way into the crowd. After getting knocked around by a few careless shoulders, she found herself in a massive shuttle bay where vendors offered supplies to the slew of stationed ships. She counted fifteen. Soon there would be hundreds.

The high ceilings permitted them to be flown in and out.

The pungent odor of oil seeped into her nostrils, and memories of her old life swirled through her mind. Many of the ships were in a state of disarray as workers rushed to make them ready for the long flight to come.

To her right, eager-faced people lined up at a registration booth. Anyone had the privilege to enter and nearly every known planet encouraged participation. It was the few activates that brought both the allied and disjointed sects together. In some cases, the race helped warring nations come to terms, as even a ship that comes in fourth or fifth or even tenth is impressive and likely technically advanced. That, or the crew is viewed as highly skilled in both combat and tactical strategy. Either way, one might want to think twice before getting into a scuffle with their people.

A lift vehicle rumbled by, shaking the ground at her feet and honking for folks to make a path. Over the chaos, she spotted the appreciable, dark-brown hair of her captain, Aidan. It had been cut short since she'd last seen him. He stood with a small group of men next the open hatch of a small but sturdy looking ship. She assumed the craft would be her new home for the duration of the race.

She could hardly contain her glee as she crossed the great room. A few months ago, Aidan had surprised her by showing up at Uli Rings, where, until recently, she'd had a nice, cushy job as head of security. The massive space city was a popular tourist destination, made up of three giant rings that spun to simulate gravity. When she'd seen him, she'd hoped to take him out for a drink and catch up, maybe offer him a job, but he hadn't had the time. Too busy with some kind of urgent matter regarding a race of people she'd never heard of before.

Then a few weeks ago she'd received a transmission from Aidan to get her ass to the North Star spaceport and prepare for Phase Nine.

She'd sat back in her expensive office chair, surrounded by state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, stunned to the core. An hour later she was shoving clothes into a large duffel bag with the tags still attached. No way was she missing this opportunity, not even if she was due for a promotion.

When Aidan caught sight of her, he rushed forward to clasp her in a bone-crushing hug. His massive arms held her up as though she were light as a pea. "Priya! Thanks for coming."

As her feet met the ground again, she couldn't help but tease, "You know, I received three more offers, besides yours. Pretty good ones too." She was already pretty infamous as a ship gunner. The other offers were from lesser captains than Aidan, and she didn't expect any of them to complete phase one of the race, let alone finish.

"Aw, and you chose me above all others? Aidan replied with a smirk and offered to take her heavy bag. "I'm flattered."

Glad to be rid of its weight, she handed it over. "Don't be. I was considering not coming at all." Although it was true that she wouldn't have answered any other call but his, or have traveled so far just to risk her life, she was shocked to hear who Aidan was racing for. "Tell me," she said. "Why in the name of the gods are you entering Phase Nine under the banner of the Legura Dragon Clan? Since when does your clan mingle with theirs?" It had been the one thing to give her pause. Though Aidan's people and the Legura share a solar system, they were from different planets, and their cultures were quite different. Never mind they all shifted into dragons.

"It's a long story," he replied, looking frustrated. "I'll tell you about it later."

At his back, three men stood patiently observing them, only one of which was a stranger to Priya. With a smile, she approached Asher and Zeek. Seeing them brought her back to a time when she was truly happy—way back when they had all worked together as mercenaries on a POS, rust bucket of a ship. Only one other face was missing from this reunion. And for that she was grateful. She knew if she saw _him_ , her joy would turn sour.

She greeted her old crewmates with big, squeezing hugs. In turn, they messed her hair with a rough, playful palm, effectively ruining the sleek braid she'd spent all morning on.

She slapped their hands away with irritation and undid the tie to fluff out her now-wild locks. "In some corners of space, people get shot for that," she chastised.

Zeek and Asher only laughed.

"You two haven't changed at all," she grumbled.

"Have too," Zeek protested. "Check this out." He lifted his sleeve to reveal dark swirling ink against his otherwise tan skin. The tattoo was outlined in red as if it were still healing. It was the image of a buxom, black-haired lady looking over her shoulder, hand covering her mouth as her obscenely short skirt rode up to offer a peek of white panties.

"Classy, Zeek."

He gave her a boyish grin that was accentuated by his short blond hair and stormy blue eyes.

Turning to Asher, she asked, "How about you, Ash? Any tattoos?"

She knew better. Ash's skin was as tough as metal, with the hint of a metallic sheen. Most needles couldn't penetrate it. His pewter, chin length hair was tough as well. As a game, he used to pluck a strand and challenge them all to try and rip it apart with their bare hands. No one had ever succeeded, but they continued to try anyway.

Asher's hypnotic silver eyes pinned her with a dubious expression. "No tattoos, Priya. How about you?" He wiggled his brows suggestively.

"None that you're ever going to get to see."

Typical masculine curiosity covered both their faces. She couldn't prevent her impish grin. The third unknown man cleared his throat, drawing her attention. She gasped, recognition dawning. Legura royalty?

Aidan introduced him. "This is Prince Lear of the Legura Clan. He'll be joining us."

Lear bowed respectfully. A black strand of his hair fell over his face as he cooed, "My lady." Seeing her jaw locked in surprise, he added, "Now doona be intimidated by my rugged good looks." His accent was thick and sounded nothing like Aidan's.

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "Have you ever worked on a ship, kingy?" She recalled learning from Aidan that the Dragons had been one of the first known races to enter space and colonize other planets. Many of the common languages had branched off of theirs, and they had connections or treaties with nearly every amiable planet.

Lear cocked his head and said confidently, "I am no' without skill. And I'm no king."

That was obvious by the way he stood. He held himself more like a warrior than royalty.

She faced Aidan. "Is this the whole crew then?"

Aidan took on a guilty expression and averted his gaze. A deep sense of foreboding dug a pit in her stomach. She'd seen that look before. He was hiding something. Something big.

Scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he tripped over his words. "Uh...well...about that—"

From within ship's hatch, a deep voice cut in, "The craft is tight, Aidan, but needs some work."

The sound of that deep, rough voice stabbed straight through her ribcage, and she shrank back under a wave of nausea. She unconsciously brought her hand over her chest as if that would save her the pain of seeing him again.

Vin emerged from the hatch, wiping grease from his hands with a dirty cloth. His grey tank top was equally stained, but no matter how torn up his clothing got, it never distracted from his awe-inspiring, muscle-head physique. He was built like a machine—a machine designed for two things: Fucking like a god, and destroying hearts. Oh, and he knew his way around an engine block, but mostly the destroying hearts thing.

Even though she knew it was wrong, her eyes took a seductive trip up his body, taking in the corded muscles of his arms and the six-pack that was outlined by his tight tank top. She tried to avoid the crotch area, but come one, she'd once had a very deep and personal love affair with that thick, fat—

She forced her spine straight, and whipped her thoughts into shape.

The moment Vin noticed her, he froze mid-step, mouth agape. His arms dropped to his sides. He seemed to deflate right in front of her.

She ignored the pang in her chest.

"Oh, hell no." Priya snatched her bag from Aidan and stalked away. She didn't quite know where she meant to go. Anywhere but here would do. She wondered if she could get her job back, though knew her position would already have been filled by now.

"Wait." Aidan grabbed her by the arm. "I won't stop you if you really want to go, but take a day or two to think about it. The entry deadline is in three days. I want you _both_ on my team."

She ripped her arm free and snapped, "You should have told me he was here." Her knuckles began to sting from clenching her bag, and she forced her hand to relax.

"I wasn't sure if either of you would show," he explained, looking sincere. "But if I had mentioned he might join us, would you have come?"

"No," she said honestly and without hesitation. She would have kept as far from Phase Nine as she could manage. Not even watching feed to root for her friends. She would have cosigned herself to purgatory before stepping foot in the same room with Vin again.

Aidan remained silent for a moment, then spoke softly. "I've rented you a room. Promise me you'll stay the night at least and sleep on it."

She ground her teeth and tightened her fist. How could Aidan ask this of her? She and Vin couldn't possibly work efficiently together. Not aver everything that had gone down. This could end up being detrimental to the entire group. How could Aidan not get that?

Would it be possible for her to put away her past, the heartbreak, lock it up in a tight little box and work with Vin? She could refuse Aidan's offer, she reasoned. She could walk away right now and not look back. But that would be an impulsive move. And Aidan deserved better. He'd asked her to give it some thought. Out of respect, she would do just that. It was the least she could do.

And the least Aidan could do was provide free room and board for her trouble.

Without facing him, she slowly nodded. "I'll think about it."

From behind, came Vin's low and—damn it—sexy-as-ever voice. "Priya, can we talk?"

"Screw off, Vin. You're good at that." Quick strides led her back the way she came.

"Run away, then!" he retorted. "You're good at that!"

# 2

Vin whipped his oil soaked rag at Aidan. It hit his shoulder with a _splat_ before flopping to the floor.

Brushing off the attack as easily as ignoring an insect, Aidan darted into the ship, avoiding Vin's gaze. The guilty fucker.

Vin followed him, letting his outrage escape through his tone. "You sent for her!"

Aidan replied coolly, "I did." His boots clunked against the metal mesh flooring as he strode down the hall, coming to stop in the lounge.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Taking a seat at one of the re-purposed, wobbly metal table—another thing Vin intended to fix before game day—Aidan tossed him a mocking, "I just did." He shimmied his hands in the air. "Surprise."

Vin threw his arms out. "No, you didn't. I _found out_. You don't bitch-slap a guy and _then_ warn him a hit is coming." That was exactly what seeing Priya was like, a total bitch-slap that still had his head spinning. And he had just stood there like a gape-mouthed dolt, gazing upon the woman he'd once loved—still loved. The woman who had so easily crushed his heart under the thick heel of her sexy-as-fuck boot. Did she have to be as alluring as ever? Over the years, and largely to make himself feel better, he'd picture her just as mournful and broken with regret ad he was, haunted by the memories of what was lost between them. What could have been.

What he saw instead was the sexy-ass, vibrant redhead he'd fallen so hard for years before, with the perfect, luscious curves he used to know by heart.

He ran his oil-stained fingers through his shaggy brown hair. When was the last time he'd gotten it cut? His hands traveled down to his stubbly jaw, anger toward Aidan billowing again. "You could have given me a heads up! For fuck's sake, man. Whose side are you on? She got to look all..." He mimed an hourglass figure. "While I look all..." he gestured to himself incoherently.

"What would you have done? Put on a suit and tie?"

"I would have put on a clean shirt, you son of a bitch!"

"You're a bloody mechanic. This is your uniform. She knows that. Hell, it's her type. I probably did you a solid."

Vin ground his teeth together. "Perhaps one day I'll do you a solid just like it."

Aidan grew serious. "I wanted a winning team. And that means both of you." It was an honor to be included in Aidan's short list, Vin could admit that, but he still responded with a murderous look.

Zeek and Ash entered then, probably having gotten tired of eavesdropping at the door the whole time. Doing a shit job of hiding their amusement, they claimed seats nearby and leaned in as if he and Aidan were putting on a show, all they needed was snacks and vision enhancing goggles.

Aidan ignored them, speaking to Vin directly. "What was it that made you guys split anyway?"

Vin grossed his arms and looked away. "Like I can remember," he lied. "I'm sure it was something stupid." He knew it was something stupid.

Zeek sat straighter and lifted a finger in the air. "You bought her a tool kit for her birthday, an expensive set you had been eying for the better part of a year."

Through clenched teeth, Vin snapped, "Thanks for the reminder." Priya liked to tinker on occasion. He'd figured they could share it. In hindsight, it wasn't the most romantic thing he'd ever done, but that wasn't really what broke them up. Nope, it was his dumb, idiotic reaction to _her_ reaction to his gift. Her indignation made him feel bad, which made him angry, which had made him stupid.

Vin noticed Lear was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, expression amused. He must have been there for a minute or two, because he slipped right into the conversation with his deep brogue. "I'm guessing she did no' appreciate the gesture."

Zeek tapped his chin. "Oddly enough, she was livid." He shrugged like it was a real mystery.

Vin scrubbed a hand down his face. "I don't need a play-by-play."

They didn't know the half of it. Priya had always been an easygoing chick. He could have easily fixed his bungling birthday blunder. If only he'd turned right—into that pink-hued, flowery gift shop where men often went for penance.

Instead, his anger had directed him left, straight into a gentlemen's club.

"Go talk to her," Aidan suggested.

"Is that wise?" Lear asked the group warily. "If these two have a rough history, it could affect their performances throughout the race...and our win," he added with pitiless significance.

Vin had only known the dragon royal for a few short days. He was a stoic guy, generally, looking uninterested in the happenings around him, like he'd seen it all before and wasn't impressed. Though he hadn't yet meshed with the group, he seemed to be like catnip to females, and Zeek and Ash were quickly befriending the guy. But half the time, Vin wanted to flick the guy in the nose, just to rile him up, especially when he stated his unsolicited opinions.

He restrained himself, however, partly because they were going to be confined together for an indeterminate amount of time and it was probably a good idea if they got along, and also because it was his royal coffers that paid for this ship and would make it possible for them to enter Phase Nine, but mostly because Vin was pretty sure the dragon prince could clean his clock.

Still, the man needed to keep his perfect straight nose out of Vin's business.

Speaking directly to Aidan, he said, "Tell your prince to keep his opinion to himself or I'll shove it back down his throat with my fist."

Lear rumbled with laughter. "I'd like to see you try, mechanic. I've battled armies of dragons and emerged without a scratch."

Vin sneered at the dragon, balling his fists. "You can't dragon-shift in here without hurting yourself. Maybe we should find out how you are at hand to hand."

"If I shifted in here, I'd likely hurt the ship before myself. Oh, and you, of course."

"My money's on the dragon," Ash muttered to Zeek.

Zeek shook his head. "But Vin's all oiled up. Makes for a slippery catch."

"Enough," Aidan admonished them all. "No one is fighting inside _or_ outside the ship. That's an order." He faced Vin. "Priya is the best gun hand I've ever seen. You _will_ talk to her. You will convince her to join us. And we will all act like professionals. Got it?"

Silently, the all gave reluctant nods.

"One happy dysfunctional family," Zeek said.

"And on that note, let me make one thing clear," Aidan added, staring directly at Lear. "Lear is not _my_ prince, nor is he yours or anyone else's but his own damn people. I don't answer to him. _You_ don't answer to him. I am the captain here."

Lear just smirked.

Ash retorted, "Pardon, captain, but in my culture, when you offer vows of allegiance to a royal family, you become their subject." They'd all vowed to run Phase Nine under the royal banner of the Legura clan.

Vin knew what Ash was doing. Aside from relieving some of the tension, the thing that had bonded them all the most over the last few days was their combined enjoyment from messing with Aidan.

Renewed amusement danced in Lear's eyes, and he gestured toward Ash with one hand as if he'd made a brilliant point.

"I only vowed to run Phase Nine in the Legura name," Aidan defended. This was a hot button. It irked Aidan to have been inducted into the Legura clan to make running Phase Nine for them official.

Zeek cleared his throat and chimed in. "And to do that you had to officially join the Legura Clan...ergo."

Aidan growled. "Shut up, all of you." He stood and headed out the door. "I need a drink."

"Hold up. I'll join you." Vin said, feeling the weight of what he was about to do; a conversation with Priya after all this time. How long did he search for her after she left him? How many nights did he dream of her return? A second chance? To see her one last time? Or, gods willing, get her back. Now he had his chance, and everything in him was terrified he'd screw it up again. He was too good at fumbling his words, saying the wrong thing when he meant something completely different. There were so many words waiting to trip him up. So many phrases that could be taken the wrong way. Finally, finally, she was within his grasp and his brain was suddenly a murky void where the many speeches and oaths he'd once recited in his head were now vanishing under the gravity nervous energy.

_I can do this_ , he encouraged himself. It was just Priya. Same old, beautiful, fiery, feisty, owner of the busted-up, hollowed-out space in his chest Priya. The same Priya who'd once told him he was the only one who'd ever held the key to her heart. Sure, all he had to do was convince her she didn't hate his guts. No problem.

But first he had to get out of his soiled clothes. "Let me clean up first," he called after Aiden.

Zeek jumped to his feet. "Why don't we all go? We've been working like dogs to get the ship ready. We could sure use a break...plus Chastity is dancing tonight." He rubbed his hands together, grinning widely.

Asher chuckled. "You're determined to pay for her new luxury shuttle."

"I'm determined to get a glimpse of those gorgeous bazoongas."

"Lear, you stay here and guard the ship," Aidan ordered.

Lear nodded, uncaring. To his credit, he'd never lorded himself over Aidan, though there was still clear friction between the two. Vin hadn't gotten the whole story. Aidan wasn't one for heart-to-hearts.

In the bar, Vin and the crew claimed a table near a stage full of beautiful silk-clad dancers who were keeping step to an intricately choreographed number.

A busty waitress took their drink orders. When their drinks arrived, Vin spotted Priya across the room, and his heart stuttered. She faced away from them, perched on a barstool. A quick survey of the drink in her hand told him she was going heavy tonight. Usually she sipped those tropical-themed drinks with brightly colored straws and umbrellas. He always gave her shit for that, but secretly considered it adorable.

Tonight, she drank something hard on ice. Could it be she'd been just as thrown by their encounter as he's been?

Or perhaps she was different now, with different tastes. What if she'd changed more than her drink preferences? What if her preferences in men had been altered as well?

Gods, he hoped not. He'd really be screwed then.

The idea of her with other men pulled a rumbling growl from his lungs. She had been wild in the sack, free and passionate. He missed the noises she made when he nuzzled her neck just right, and other places. Simply remembering their heated nights stirred his body and he surreptitiously adjusted himself in his seat.

Priya swiveled in her seat, facing his way. He quickly turned away. When his gaze met the gyrating ladies on stage, he nervously shifted in another direction and found himself looking straight at Aidan, Zeek, and Asher. While the other two were distracted by the dancers, Aidan was studying him with a keenness that grated.

Vin stifled a gruff of irritation and scowled at his captain.

With the smallest movement, Aidan jerked his chin toward Priya.

How could Aidan expect him to confront her now? Here of all places? The location was different, but still reminiscent of the last time he'd laid eyes on Priya. Only this time, there wasn't a scantly clad flirtatious working girl rubbing his shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in his ear, alcohol potent on her breath.

He mentally cringed at the memory.

Aidan's gaze shot past him, his eyelids lifting a fraction.

Intuition skittered along Vin's nape. He snatched his ale and gulped it down just before he heard her voice.

"Could you guys get any closer to the dancers?"

Zeek answered. "I don't think they allow you on the stage." He eyes widened comically. "Do they?"

"How do you know if you don't try?"

"Good point."

When Zeek pushed back his chair, Aidan snapped, "Z, down."

Zeek plopped back down with a gamely smile and sipped his drink.

"Why don't you join us, Priya?" Ash offered.

Surprisingly, she pulled up a chair. Vin lifted his ale to his lips, forgetting that he'd emptied it. He motioned to a nearby waitress for a refill.

"So I've been thinking," Priya said, propping one arm on the table and resting her chin on her palm. Using her other hand, she motioned to the entire group. "I don't think this is a good idea."

There was silence for a moment. Aidan replied first. "You haven't even thought about it for a full hour."

She gestured to the half-filled drink in her right hand. "I've had three of these to think, and I still—"

Aidan put his hand up to interject. "Don't say anything now. Take the night, like you promised. And if you still feel the same in the morning, then Vin is out."

"Hey," Vin protested, leaning back in his seat.

Aidan leveled him with a stare. "Talk to me when you can shoot like her."

Vin shrugged, conceding the point. He may be a great mechanic, but Priya was a badass with a gun. She was the better choice for the job. Didn't mean it wouldn't sting to be cut from the team.

"So what have you been up to, Priya?" asked Asher.

"I've been working security on Uli Rings."

_So that's where she ran off to_.

Ash raised a brow. "Impressive. They let you temporarily leave your position to run Phase Nine?"

She frowned. "Not really."

"You quit to come here?"

She didn't respond, but her silence said as much.

"Then you _have_ to join us," Zeek exclaimed. "You and Vin don't even have to interact. In fact, I'll do you one better and staple his mouth shut."

She rolled her eyes. "I saw the size of your ship. We'll basically be living on top of each other."

"Mmm," Zeek replied playfully. "Thanks for the visual."

Vin knocked him in the back of the head.

"Ow." Zeek rubbed the spot. "Kidding."

Priya observed the exchanged with an air of indifference. She brought her glass to her lips and took a long swig. Her expression told Vin she didn't enjoy the taste. Maybe she hadn't changed that much after all.

She caught him staring, and her eyes narrowed.

He tried to keep his features passive. "Can I buy you a drink? Maybe one of those foofy ones?"

Her eyelids slit further.

Damn, he shouldn't have added that last part.

"I'll buy my own drinks, thanks. In fact, I'll buy the next round for the table."

Despite his glass being full, Zeek ordered another drink right away.

Vin leaned forward and muttered, "Priya, can we talk in private?"

She pretended to think, tapping her chin and lifting her eyes to the upper right. "Um. No. Why don't you go talk to her?" She pointed to a skinny blond at the bar. "I'm sure she'll be real interested in anything you have to say, as long as you can pay."

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

Zeek stepped in. "I'm amazed at how non-uncomfortable this is. Am I right guys?"

Ash stood and flicked Zeek in the temple.

"Ow! Enough with the abuse. I'll shut up."

"How about I buy you a drink at the bar?" Ash said.

"Jeez. Any more free drinks and I'm going to start questioning the cut of this blouse." He tugged at his T-shirt.

Aidan pushed out of his seat. "I need to get back to the ship and check on Lear. Some strange girls have been coming by asking to join the crew, and I'm afraid he might just let them."

# 3

Priya glared after the traitors as they scurried away, leaving her alone with Vin. Most likely, that was their plan since she'd sat down. But, with just the right amount of alcohol in her, she couldn't muster up the proper amount of outrage, or the conviction to get up and leave.

Actually, she was bristling for a fight, and this had been a long time coming.

She stared blankly at Vin, fugitively sharpening her claws. "Enjoying the entertainment?" The ladies on stage reached a pivotal point in their dance, deftly moving to the fast beat of the music like it hatched in their bones and flowed through their bones. To her surprise, he didn't even glance at them.

"What are you drinking?" he asked.

"Solar orbit on the rocks." It tasted awful, but the cute bartender had recommended it when she'd asked for something strong enough to put a three tailed Togen on its ass.

"That's a pretty stiff drink," Vin pointed out.

"Yeah, a guy turned me on to it a few months ago. It tastes good. He tasted even better." She ended her statement with a cruel smirk.

His fist clenched around his bottle. She waited for satisfaction at his reaction to flood her, to fill that empty space inside her that had festered and cracked at the edges, but it never did.

He took a long drink, finally transferring his attention to the stage. She studied the table and sipped from her glass. The harsh bite of liquor hit her throat, warming her body as it made its way down to her churning gut.

When she looked up, Vin was watching her closely again. His eyes creased in amusement and his lips curled into a sexy, lopsided grin.

"What?" she barked, mentally denying the desire that bloomed in her from that simple look.

"Don't you think I know you well enough to realize when you're lying?"

"You haven't known me for a _very_ long time," she countered strongly.

A flicker of doubt ran across his face, but it quickly turned it into something like disinterest. That bothered her. She wanted to hurt him like he had her. She raked her mind for something cutting to add, anything that might get a reaction, but came up empty. She sipped her drink and looked away.

"So..." he said after a moment of silence had passed. "Uli Rings, huh?"

She huffed. "As if you didn't know."

"How would I know that's where you went?" He took a long swig.

"Because I bought my ticket with your credits."

He sputtered before working the liquid down his throat. His expression danced between stunned-confusion and horror, making her realize he'd never checked his invoice that night before paying the bill.

All this time, the fact that he hadn't come after her had been even more devastating than seeing him with that woman. She'd used that devastation to fuel her rage and kill her sorrow, to fill her with the strength and power to master her desire to return to him, but now she felt it _whooshing_ out of her as though a critical valve had sprung a leak. If he'd taken the time to go over his expenses, would he have seen the charge? Would he have come for her? Begged forgiveness? Would she have caved?

She snorted out loud. Knowing him, he would have demanded forgiveness. Told her she was being ridiculous and that running away had been irrational and impulsive. Impulsive, yes. Irrational, no.

"What's funny?" Vin demanded, still reeling from this new information. She'd left him a trail to follow and he'd missed it!

He'd missed it!

"I just figured you knew," she said, seemingly as equally shocked as him to find out he hadn't known her location this whole time. "You were always good at keeping track of your finances."

He cleared his throat and murmured, "I was a little off that day."

He remembered someone shoving a bill in his hand, glancing over it without really seeing the numbers, and then signing on the dotted line. This, days after he'd found all her belongings gone from their shared living space. He'd been no better than a walking corpse, barely able to function past his grief.

Meanwhile his one-and-only clue to where she'd run off to had been right there, staring him straight in the face. Gods plow him down now! Just bowl him over and burry him in shit. He had thoroughly, unequivocally _, stupendously_ screwed things up. It was almost an art form with witch he'd screwed up. Vin the professional fuck-up, at your service ladies and gentlemen.

His self-abuse ceased with the spark of a hopeful idea: had she used his credits in an attempt to leave a trail for him to follow?

The thought was a buoy to a drowning man.

He studied her closer, taking in every little nuance, every little tick that gave away her thoughts. There was a stubborn shape to her lips, a marked defensiveness that he'd have been able to spot clear across the room. However, she leaned back in her chair, appearing completely at ease as though she hadn't a care in the world.

Which was the act?

Her crystal blue eyes were audacious pools that shimmered with spirit. He was always amazed how they appeared to nearly glow like twin moons when caught by the light. He could get lost in their iridescent depths for hours. Just staring at her in awe and never getting bored. The woman turned him into a fluffball.

His gaze roamed the smooth line of her delicate jaw, wishing he could have his lips there, burry his face in the crook of her neck while her nails scraped along his scalp in that oh-so-perfect way before digging into his back.

His need for her rebounded like the snap of a rubber band that had been relentlessly stretching for years, for miles, forever. It hit him in his gut and nearly knocked the wind from his lungs. Two things he knew: there was no doubt he would have followed her to Uli Rings if he'd seen that charge—he would have followed her to the edges of the universe had he known the way.

And he was going to do everything in his power to get her back.

"You don't really think this will work, do you?" she asked him, breaking through his silent oath.

"Hmm?"

"Me and you, working together again after...everything?"

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I don't have a problem with it, but I'll understand if _you_ do." He left a little something in his tone that he knew she'd hate. An itty bitty unspoken hint that she might not be able to handle the situation while he, however, could. She hated that shit. The woman was competitive as fuck. Just one more thing he loved about her.

As expected, she bristled. "You don't think I can remain professional?"

"I think Aidan told you he'd kick me off the team to placate you and keep you from making an impulsive decision. Truth is, he wants me here. Said I was one of the best. Told me so himself. Hell, I'd wager he built this team around me."

She looked to the sky, her eyelids fluttering in that way they did when she was truly irritated. Oddly, it was among his favorites expressions, especially because right now, what it meant was she was gearing up to take this verbal battle to the next level.

"You always did have an over-active imagination, Vin. Or are you actually starting to believe you're the center of everyone's universe." Priya mentally mocked her own statement. At one point, he _had_ been the center of her universe, the goddamned sun to her planet, but his ego didn't need that particular piece of news at the moment.

He smirked as if picking it from her thoughts, his gaze raking her expression. "Tell me about _Mister Solar Orbit_."

Okay, so he wanted to chat about her boyfriend—who technically didn't exist because she'd made him up just to get under Vin's skin, which didn't seem to be working.

"What's to say," she hedged. "He's nice."

"Just nice? That's it?"

She'd always been a bit of a terrible liar. She generally took a blunt, straightforward approach. And for that reason, it was just easier to evade an iffy topic rather than spin a yarn. "Do you really want to talk about him?"

"Does he make you happy?" His voice turned rough, almost challenging. "Make you laugh?"

No one did that anymore. No one since Vin. She recalled a particular time when she and this very crew were on a mission in dead space, barely a star to be seen. Endless black stacked on top of black for days on end. It was suffocating, the nothingness. Even Zeek had been affected by the gloom, losing a little of his inherent cheer.

During the crushing worst of it, Vin kept her spirits up by conspiring with her and unleashing small pranks on the crew. During a visit to Asher's room, who was always ridiculously organized, they had systematically rearranged some his personal belongings when his back was turned and then hid their snickers as they watched in fascination as he painstakingly set to right everything that had been disturbed before realizing they were messing with him. They hadn't been allowed back in his room for months after that.

Zeek was more difficult to prank because he was always in such high spirits and when your mark enjoyed the prank as much as you did, well, it kind of dulled the fun. The only noteworthy prank was when they had added dye to his shampoo, turning his hair bright pink for a time. The funniest part was it took him half a day to notice the change.

Aidan, being the captain and, in general, a serious type of guy, took some brainstorming. They'd settled on reconfiguring a set of holographic projectors to make it appear as though his quarters were under a great sea, complete with an eight-tentacled beast that had made a cozy home of his bed.

Priya hadn't been spared, however. Mysteriously, over a few weeks' time, she'd begun to notice her clothing gradually shrinking as though repeatedly put through a careless wash, even though she did her own laundry. Meanwhile, her undergarments were becoming too large for her body so that she'd had to forego wearing them near the end. She couldn't figure it out. Her weight wasn't changing. Her measurements were the same.

Then one day, she'd walked in on Vin wearing only his jeans and _her last good bra!_ A sewing kit was sprawled out over his desk, her favorite pants in hand, a set of threaded sewing needles climbed between his teeth.

He'd been taking in her clothes one by one, while stretching out her underthings.

When he'd been caught, he'd given her an unabashed grin, needles pointing out from between his white teeth.

She'd tried to be mad, but when the realization of what he'd been doing—what he'd been doing for weeks—hit her, she'd crossed her arms, eyed him up and down, and asked one simple question. " _And_ the underwear?"

He spit out the sewing needles and gave her his trademark sexy grin. "The prank was on me too: a weeks-long wedgie and a constant cockstand, just to have you prance around in front of me in these skin tight suits with nothing underneath. It was well it worth it."

She knew that night, she could love him forever.

But then...

She lowered her gaze and gulped back her emotion. Her voice came out pathetically small as she finally answered him. "He doesn't hurt me."

Vin flinched and leaned back in his chair, his finger crooked loosely around the neck of his bottle. His tone was equally deflated. "S'pose that's something."

The ladies on stage ended their dance to sporadic claps and cheers. A moment later, a new set of girls took the stage. After watching them kick and spin for a while, Priya glanced at Vin from the corner of her eye. His lips were pressed in a hard line as he glared at his bottle. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but that was something a girlfriend did and that was no longer her place.

In a way, the silence between them made her feel like she was still light-years away.

"I shouldn't have come," she blurted.

His head snapped up. "Of course you should have. I bet you were just as excited as I was when you received Aidan's transmission."

"Was," she emphasized.

His expression grew dark. "You hate me so much you'd throw away this opportunity just to avoid me?"

She shook her head, feeling a shadow of gloom fall over her. "I don't hate you... _that much_."

He gave a weak smile at her attempt at humor.

"You have to admit, we'd make a pretty shitty team at the moment."

"I told you, I don't have a problem—"

" _I_ have a problem with it," she snapped. His continued insistence that he felt nothing grated. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is pointless. We'd ruin this for everyone on that ship. In the morning, I'm going to get a ticket back to Uli Rings. See if I can get my job back."

"So you're just going to run away? _Again_."

The nerve! As if she was the one responsible for destroying everything they'd built!

She shot to her feet and tossed a handful of credit chips on the table in front of him. "Here, have a lap dance, on me."

Vin disregarded the chips on the table, glowering after Priya as she walked away. He'd lost his taste for lap dances the day she'd left, but her words cut him deep. Just as she'd intended.

His eyes dipped to her ass, swaying in that unconscious way that always drove him nuts. The turmoil inside him turned violent. A voice in the back of his mind screamed that he was about to lose her again.

_Can't lose something I don't have_ , he reasoned.

Ash and Zeek chose that moment to return to their seats. Vin wondered how much of the show they'd caught. Zeek offered him a fresh ale and a pitying look. Guess that was his answer. He took the offered drink and downed three quarters before coming up for air.

"That bad?" Zeek observed.

"Did you expect anything else?"

"Honestly, I expected chairs to be thrown across tables."

"Then from that perspective, it went pretty well." Vin sucked down more booze before muttering, "She's leaving tomorrow."

Ash let out a sigh. "Aidan's going to be bummed."

"Who gives a fuck how Aidan feels!?"

The two men went quiet for a moment. Then Ash inquired, "How do _you_ feel about it?"

How indeed? It was like someone had just chewed up his guts and spit them back out. Like his chest was about to collapse into a black hole and take this damn spaceport with it. Every muscle coiled with dread and urgency.

Most of all, if he let her go this time, he felt as though he'd be sucked down the unending pit of despair that had nearly swallowed him the first time she'd walked away from him, and he wouldn't be able to claw his way back out.

There was only one play he could make to keep that from happening.

Without answering, he stood and bolted toward the ship, rushed toward his compartment, and rummaged through his things, snatching a small package and stuffing it in his pocket.

On his way out, he passed Aidan.

"How did it go?" Aidan yelled after him.

"We're just getting started!"

# 4

In her tiny rented room, Priya flopped back on the thin, lumpy mattress held up by a meager frame and placed her arms behind her head. The lack of color on the metallic walls matched her dreary mood.

She closed her eyes and let out a frustrated breath, once again re-living that terrible day. The day she'd caught Vin with that leggy tramp draped over him, his gaze riveted to her generous bosom. On her friggin' birthday! Priya knew he'd seen her standing there in the doorway, and he hadn't even had the gumption to look guilty.

A knock sounded.

After a short debate, she labored to her feet, knowing who it would be.

Vin straightened his posture when she yanked open the door, his russet eyes wary. "Can we speak?"

She replied with a hard look and crossed her arms.

Mirroring her expression, he pushed past her, giving her a whiff of his familiar musky scent. He smelled of hard work and man. She used to worship that fragrance.

Stifling a sigh, she closed the door and gave him her best stubborn frown. Yet, on the inside, she was stupidly eager. He always did that to her. No matter how angry she'd been at him, he could always make her want him.

Bastard.

For a long while a tension-coated silence filled the space between them. He pretended to survey her room while she tried to avoid looking at him at all. She sucked at this game.

Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke up. "I just came to tell you I don't want you to leave. I want to run Phase Nine with you, and I want us to win."

"Thanks for your opinion. I'll take it into consideration."

His lips thinned.

"Is that it?"

"Yup." He shrugged and lifted his palms as if at a loss.

She stepped toward the door to let him out. That's when he pounced. He hooked an arm around her waist, halting her movement. Eyes wide, she flipped around in his grasp. He'd made sure she was off balance and had to grip his shoulders for support.

"No, that's not it," he hissed. "Why did you leave me without a word?"

She blinked. "You _know_ why."

"I know what you _think_ you saw, but you're wrong."

"It that so?"

His words came in a rush. "You knew I was peeved off day. I was already pretty drunk when I saw you at the club, and out of spite I let you think I was interested in that woman. I thought I'd come back to our room and we'd fight a little. I had a plan, you see." Sorrow entered his eyes. He shook his head. "I never expected you'd up and disappear—without even railing at me."

Averting her gaze, she swallowed the lump that had built up in her throat. "You told me we were finished...finished with me."

"I was just angry. I wish I'd never...well, I wish a lot of things."

She cursed the quiver in her voice. "When I saw you with her, I knew it was true."

"It was _never_ true," he insisted. "Never! I was so damn stupid."

His eyes locked on hers with such intensity it stole her breath. Her heartbeat faltered as she recognized that familiar determination she used to love about him.

Still loved about him.

"You never answered me."

"Oh?"

"Does Mister Solar Orbit make you happy?"

She didn't respond.

"Does he make you blush like you're doing now? Make your blood burn?"

At length, she shook her head.

He pressed his mouth to hers, and she did nothing to dissuade him. His lips were soft and warm and perfectly molded to hers, just as she remembered. Her body responded just as she remembered, too, melting under the heat of his desire.

When he crushed her to his chest, she felt something like desperation roll off him. It mixed with her own.

Tilting her head, she deepened the kiss. He took her cue, slipping his tongue past the border of her parted lips.

His taste flooded her, became a drug that fired in her veins, igniting her the passion she'd worked so long to suppress. A needy sound escaped her, and she began to meet him with every sweep of his tongue. Her arms latched around his neck as she pushed her body deeper into his.

Just like that, she was lost.

The kiss became hard, demanding, reckless, as though both starved for the other. He inched her backwards till he had her pressed against the wall, caged by his strong arms. The cold metal rivaled the burning heat that had come over her. She gave a soft moan; he snarled a hungry groan. One calloused hand slipped to her backside, while the other gripped the small of her back as if to hold her in place.

Her heart thundered, her breaths coming in harsh gasps. She broke away, overwhelmed by emotion. She muttered, "Damn you," unsure of whom she was cursing, him or her.

His lips found hers once more and she relented, needing more of him. The kiss slowed, becoming something unbearably sweet, something pleading, his mouth lightly gliding over hers. With measured movements, his lips traveled the soft curve of her jaw.

He stopped just below her ear, his whispered breath caressing her skin. "Forgive me."

Her mind cried to obey, but she held back. "You can't just kiss me and expect to be forgiven." Against her neck, she felt his lips curve into a smile. Could he hear the waver in her voice?

"How about a thousand kisses, then?"

"Try a million."

"A million it is then." With a firm grip on her hips, his mouth captured hers once more. She placed her palms on his broad shoulders, letting them slowly flow down his thick mechanic's arms, reacquainting herself with each titillating muscle. His smooth skin felt blissful under her touch.

Suddenly, he pulled back. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you."

She cocked her head, bemused as to what could possibly be more important than what they were already doing.

When he reached into his pocket, she rolled her eyes. "Don't be cheeky."

He chuckled. "There's that dirty mind I love."

He presented her with a small box.

She raised a brow and took it, pulling off the lid. Inside, a delicate silver chain and a heart-shaped pendant sparkled in the light.

She glared up at him. "Are you kidding me with this?"

"Huh?" He glanced at the necklace and then at her.

"There are no gift shops on this spaceport, and you had no idea I'd be here. So tell me, who did you _really_ buy this for?"

He took a step back, looking hurt. "I've had that since the day you left. I bought it for you after I left that club. Before I knew you'd gone."

Rocks tumbled in her belly. Her mouth fell open to respond, but for the life of her, nothing would come out.

"By the time I left the club, I realized I fucked up. This was going to be a please-don't-be-mad-at-me bribe. I was going to grovel, like this." He dropped to the floor, his hands resting on her hips. "And I was going to say something like, 'I'm sorry I'm such an ass, and that I got you a crappy gift for your birthday, and I'm an idiot, and if you don't like the necklace, I'll get you whatever you want."

Her face was frozen in shock. She glanced down at the box. The corners were old and worn, part of the veneer flaking away. When she examined the pendant again, a memory stirred. A few days before her birthday, she had not-so-subtly pointed it out.

He'd gone back for it.

Her throat suddenly tightened and her response came out breathy. "I would have said you _are_ an ass, and I love the necklace, and if you ever even think of touching another woman again I will shove it in a place that will take many doctors, many hours to extract."

He gave her a heart-stopping grin and stood to kiss her with renewed hunger. Her arms clasped around his neck and she hitched her legs around his waist. Taking her full weight with ease, he carried her to the bed, following her down onto the mattress. He kissed her in quick succession, finding a new place each time: the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, making his way to her cleavage.

The sensation made her squirm.

She clawed at his shirt. He sat up to shrug out of it, and then went for her clothes, peeling off her boots and pants. His belt and pants soon followed. As he crawled back over her, he made sure to trail his hands along her skin, making her shiver.

Their lips crashed together and suddenly they were nothing but skin and breath and heat. Tangled limbs and passion.

When he found her center and jointed them together, they both let out a soul-stuttering moan. As he began to move, euphoria took her and ecstasy assailed her. She became intoxicated by pure, unadulterated pleasure. She matched his speed with her hips, their bodies toiling and writhing. Soon his thrusts became frenzied, maddening, and she could only accept him and the ferocious bliss he offered.

Only Vin could take her to this wild place where lust ruled and passion reigned. Muscles straining, he drove her closer to that tormenting, glorious edge. A powerful wave of ecstasy rolled through her, and her orgasm burst out in the form of a primitive cry. She tossed her head back and cried out.

He roared, his release following hers. His rhythm slowed, drawing out the last bit of pleasure for both of them. Finally, he stilled. Arms propped on either side of her, his weight came to rest on her while they both too a moment to gather their breaths. Her fingers trailed over his back. He let out a rough purr.

Then his head snapped up. "I love you, Priya. I never want to lose you again. Marry me."

She choked on a gasp and searched his expression. He looked sincere and anxious, but mostly determined.

"It's a little soon for proposals, isn't it?"

"Not for me. I've spent far too long without you. I know I only have a tiny sliver of your heart back, but I am going to hold onto it with everything I have. You want a ring? I'll get you a ring. More necklaces? I'll buy them all." He paused. "Being without you was like being without my best friend. No. My soul-mate. More than that, it was like being half-dead. I don't want to go back to that."

Her vision blurred. Could this truly be happening? He'd made a mistake that day, a humongous mistake, but so had she. If she hadn't acted so rashly and jumped the first flight out of there, she might have saved herself countless nights of misery.

"Would you really have come for me?" she found herself whispering.

"Without a second thought." His voice held no hint of doubt. "I will never forgive myself for missing your little clue."

She offered him a tentative smile, when what she really wanted to do was jump for joy. They had both fucked up, but maybe together they could fix it. Heal each other's broken hearts, and then make them stronger than ever.

Lifting her hand to the side of his strong jaw, she stroked his cheek. "Ask me again when we've won Phase Nine."

_The end_

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**Read on for an extended excerpt of THE DEMON'S POSSESSION**
**PRAISE FOR SHADOW QUEST**

"The Demon's Possession was a FANTASTIC read! This book will draw you in from beginning to end. The characters are well developed and the story line is wonderful! The chemistry between Analia and Sebastian is undeniably sexy. I couldn't put this book down and when I had to go to work all I could think about is how I couldn't wait to come home and finish it." _~Boekie's Reviews_

* * *

"Finally! A new premise! I really enjoyed this book. It pulls at the imagination and makes you wonder, what if...?" _~Bodice Rippers_

* * *

"I haven't read a good science fiction fantasy; The Demon's Possession was a great debut novel. Kiersten Fay is an author that everyone should be watching out for." _~Seeing Night Reviews_

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"Kiersten Fay has a way with creating female characters who are both vulnerable yet deeply powerful individuals. Her women are whole, strong and competent, and as a female reader I appreciate this! Her setting and character descriptions are rich and powerful, drawing you deeply into another universe." _~Candice Bundy, UF Author_

# Chapter 1

**Please enjoy this extended excerpt from**

**THE DEMON'S POSSESSION**

* * *

Analia crouched in the shadows of the docking bay—shaking with fear, anticipation—hidden behind a large pile of cargo. Heavy adrenaline coursed through her veins. Damp blond curls tangled around her face, falling toward her ragged excuse for clothing and dirty bare feet. She struggled to steady her breathing, afraid someone would hear her. Her body threatened to collapse under the weight of the ship's artificial gravity, as fatigue began to set in.

The sounds of the ship, like a living thing, enveloped her. Embracing her, both as an old friend and hated foe.

Soon she would be free.

She hoped.

It was the only thing that drove her on.

She'd known a merchant ship would be docking today. Two or three ships were scheduled every few days, in order to maintain a variety of stock. In space, no two merchants offered the same supplies, which meant many ships were often commissioned simultaneously.

She watched with frustration as the blond guard stood sentinel mere feet from her. She mentally retraced her steps, hoping she hadn't left evidence of her spontaneous and unplanned escape.

As usual, she'd been in the middle of a punishment. Locked in a room for two weeks—no food and little water—with another week of the same to look forward to. The punishment had been the result of trying, and failing, again, to refuse Darius' advances.

Captain Darius of the _Extarga_ , a.k.a the Hell Ship, had become full of rage at her continued resistance and ordered her locked away until she could accept her lot...accept him. Something she would never do.

She could never give her heart, body, or soul to someone like Darius. He was heartless and brutal.

As she had crouched on the floor of her cell, a man entered. She'd seen him before. He'd tended to her many times. Each time, she attempted a conversation, with no reciprocation.

She couldn't fault him, though. Darius strove to keep her isolated on _Extarga_ , hidden away from most of the crew. Those few who had come into her presence—to bring her food or a fresh change of clothes—were ordered not to speak with her, or be _disciplined_. None had risked themselves for her conversation. Not that she didn't continue to try.

"How is your day?" she would say to whoever had been sent to her room. It was a phrase she'd heard before, through stolen moments from the ship's surveillance. "What is your name?" she would ask, hopeful for a response.

When they ignored her, she would only continue as if the conversation were two sided instead of one, telling them anything that popped into her head: her thoughts of whatever room she was in at the time or how she missed the view of space. She hadn't been allowed to see it in decades.

She drew some satisfaction from the one-sided conversation, if only a little. It always meant something to her when they lingered slightly, as though they were listening.

But in that moment she hadn't been interested in conversation, eyeing the scraps of food the man had brought for her. Scraps not even fit for an animal, but she'd take it. She was growing thin from hunger.

Though the man hadn't said a word, he had watched her as she ravaged the scraps. The first bite of food she'd eaten in a week and it had not been enough to fill her belly. She'd barely tasted it, which, by the way it had looked, hadn't been a bad thing.

Wiping her mouth, she had looked up at the man, surprised he was still there. There'd been something in his expression she had never seen before. Was it sorrow? Shame? Did he pity her? Probably. Who wouldn't?

She'd wondered what she must look like, unwashed in her tattered dress. Her feet were bare, her nails were dirty and bitten, and her hair hadn't been properly brushed for some time.

When the man turned to leave the room, he hadn't left as normal: by closing the door tight and double checking the lock. Instead, he opened the door wide and withdrew in a rush. Without even a backward glance, he had allowed the heavy door to fall closed from its own weight.

Analia didn't know what had compelled her to act in that moment, just that she had. Rushing forward, she inserted her fingers in the doorframe, just before it shut her in. She stifled a scream when the heavy door came crashing down on her.

Grinding her teeth, she resisted the urge to cradle her hand and waited.

One heartbeat. Two. Three. Her breath was labored. The first rush of adrenaline entered her system, followed by the spark of an idea. Her heart began to race at the possibilities.

_What do I do now?_

Then she'd remembered that several merchant ships were scheduled to dock. Perhaps...if she were lucky. If she could only make it to the docking bay. If a ship was even there, it was possible she could escape _Extarga_.

_That's a lot of ifs._

She thought of the consequences if she went through with this and failed. A stream of horrific images entered her mind. She would suffer for days, weeks, maybe longer if she was caught. Never had she done anything so bold as to try to escape.

But if she didn't at least try, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life, no matter the consequences. There may never be an opportunity like this again.

Hope flooded her, made her feel light. The idea of freedom, a better life, possibly being within her reach was a heady thought.

_What if I do get free and it's worse out there?_

The idea spread through her like a poison. If she did escape, and found herself on a merchant ship...what if the people on board were worse than Darius?

She pushed the thought from her mind. It couldn't be possible. Could it? Dark images swirled in her mind, picking at her resolve.

Or, what if they found out about her gift? Perhaps her unusual pointed ears were a clear sign of what she was, even if she didn't know.

Maybe under different circumstances she would have embraced her ability, but for so long she'd suffered because of it and only wished it gone. Unfortunately, as far as she knew, that was impossible. It was a part of her, through and through, blood to bone. And it was the reason Darius kept her as isolated as he did. To him, she was but an object. A piece of machinery at his disposal.

It could be that her gift was a normal trait of her people. If so, it was the only connection she had to them. She had no idea what she was or where she came from. No memory of her people. She'd been but a child when Darius had claimed her.

Analia knew what awaited her here on the Hell Ship—a lifetime of suffering until Darius siphoned every last drop of her will in his attempt to break her. Eventually he would succeed.

When she was sure the hallway was empty, she braved a peek. Then she prayed for the luck of the gods and eased the door shut till she heard the soft click of the lock move into place. Any decision she might have made to turn back disintegrated in that moment.

She glided through the corridors, toward the docking bay. Her bare feet made little noise as she went. She knew this ship better than anyone. She knew it better than Darius himself.

When Darius hooked her up to the ship, Analia had the ability to tap into the ship's heavy surveillance system. It was as though the images from the cameras were displayed directly into her mind, and she could see everything all at once. As far as she could tell, it was the only real benefit of her gift.

Though it wasn't much of a tradeoff, considering the pain of being hooked up to the ship was nearly blinding. The sensation of her energy being drawn out of her body and into the ship's power storage system was agony. To take her mind off it, she watched the crew through the cameras, envying their freedom.

It was her only joy, but right now it was her greatest enemy.

Making her way to a small control panel, she went to work infiltrating the system. For once, her ability would benefit her.

As she hooked herself up to the ship, she felt the moment she became part of it, like one colossal machine working in unison.

Analia shook her head and frowned in disgust. She really was a piece of equipment.

Everything in the ship's database was her playground. Every piece of information, every secret, and every code belonged to her. If Darius ever found out about the extent of her ability, he would surely use her to spy on his crew. There were not many under Darius' command who spoke highly of him in private conversation.

With the ship at her command, she proceeded, first, to clear an easy path to the docking bay by unlocking any door that might be sealed, and checked to see if any crew members would be in her way. After ensuring a straight path, she erased two solid weeks of recorded surveillance. Then she shut it down completely and locked the system, changing the codes before continuing toward the docking bay.

The system was only checked once every few months, and anything recorded was only viewed when there was a discrepancy. No one would think to check it until long after she'd gone. If they wanted in, they were going to have to hack the system in order to gain access. And because she was the system, she knew they would have a hell of a time of it.

Only once, as she carefully traversed the maze of passageways, did she come across trouble—a couple crew members, advancing toward her. She heard them before she saw them. They walked confident and loud, boots thudding on the hard shiny floor, ready to turn the corner that would put her in their line of sight.

Dread engulfed her, almost overtaking her senses. But after her moment of panic, she was able to calm her emotions, and dove for a door to her right.

Inside, the room was small and dark like a closet, but empty and unused. Her body had begun to tremble with worry; her hands were the worst, shaking uncontrollably. Opening, closing, and rubbing them together, she tried to relieve the tremors.

The voices became loud, just outside the door. She froze. Her breathing stopped. Only when the voices and footsteps continued past did her body relax.

She was tired, so tired.

Those couple of weeks without food had greatly weakened her. And she had slept badly on that cold iron floor, sometimes only falling asleep when exhaustion overruled the chill in her bones.

She pushed into the now empty corridor and continued with caution. The hallways remained quiet.

The path she had hacked allowed doors to open at her approach. With each threshold, her anxiety was reborn. Each hallway was like a repetition of the first. There was nothing distinguishing, nothing but grey walls illuminated by dim overhead lights.

With her nerves grated, she had finally made it to the docking bay.

A merchant ship was indeed docked, both ships connected and open to each other. She'd almost cried out with a surge of an unfamiliar mixture of emotions.

Joy. Relief. Anticipation.

That is, until she'd spotted the guard blocking her path. A large, strong looking male, a bored scowl etched in his features. Spiky blond hair framed his face and a black short sleeved shirt revealed his muscular arms and chest. Black pants and a pair of black boots covered his lower half. He leaned against the wall of the ship, wearing an aura of danger. Like he could rip you apart with his bare hands while maintaining that look of boredom.

Luckily, he hadn't seen her. She was already halfway hidden behind large piles of cargo. The stack of boxes towered high enough to hide a body three times her size.

She had to hold her nose to contain a building sneeze as she caught a whiff of spices.

She didn't know how long she remained in her semi-hidden position, but the time dragged. Any minute now, the docking bay would be flooded with workers, sent to gather the goods. She could only wait and hope for an opportunity, the perfect moment when no one was watching so she could hide herself away on the merchant ship. She prayed for a distraction.

The docking bay was a huge room. The ceiling stretched high overhead, and the walls were covered in white. Three floors tiered around the great round chamber. Massive machines used for lifting heavy cargo loomed above her, bolted to the thick retaining walls.

No one was currently manning them.

Usually a slave or two was brought with each delivery, though she didn't see any this time. Darius liked to acquire things, people included. Although most of the crew were free, many were slaves, and of those, mostly women. And though they were treated just as poorly as Analia, they were rarely kept as isolated.

Each crew member, slave or not, had two things in common. First, they were all handpicked by Darius, selected for their great strength, knowledge, or beauty. He demanded only the best at his command. Second, they feared their leader.

When he wasn't punishing Analia for some perceived infraction, he often forced her to watch as someone else suffered. In order, she suspected, to frighten her into submission.

It worked.

She was once forced to witness a group being _disciplined_. One of the men had been condemned to death. The other three were ordered to take his life or die themselves.

Analia never learned what they did to deserve such a punishment. They were given no weapons to carry out the act. Horror-struck, she watched as they pounded at the condemned man with only hands and feet to save their own lives. If she didn't watch, if she'd closed her eyes, then she would be on the receiving end of her own punishment.

She shook the memory away. This was her first real attempt at escape. She'd thought of it many times before, dreamt of what it would be like to be in possession of her own life. To do what she wanted when she wanted.

Oh, how she craved freedom.

To think, act, and speak with no fear of consequence. No one forcing her to use her ability until her body, drained of almost all its essence, gave out in exhaustion. No man to encroach on her body, when she hadn't the energy to fight him off.

She shook her head.

_Focus._

She peeked from behind her hiding spot. The guard was still there, blocking her escape. He hadn't moved from his position since she last chanced a look. She'd never seen the man before, which meant he was a member of the merchant ship, and was standing there for the sole purpose of keeping people, such as her, from trespassing.

Her plan had been simple, well...in theory. She planned to sneak onto the merchant ship, hide until it next docked, and then sneak off again, disappearing forever from Darius' reach. Easy, right?

She just needed a little more luck, just a little to get her on that ship, one step closer to freedom. She deserved it, dammit! How much more should she be made to suffer? How much more could she take?

"Calic!" a male voice shouted.

Analia jumped at the sound. She peeked to see the guard's attention diverted to something inside the other ship.

"What?" the blond guard snapped.

"The last load is stuck!" the other voice yelled. "We can't get it through the doorway! It won't fit!"

"It helps if you're smarter than the door," the blond guard muttered before yelling back, "We got it in there, didn't we?" He sighed before disappearing inside.

Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She waited a few seconds, expecting him to return quickly. When he didn't, she sucked in a breath and moved forward, hesitant at first, and then she dashed for the opening. She could hear nothing but the rush of blood in her ears and the quick thud of her wild heart.

_Closer. Closer._

Her breath caught when she crossed the threshold onto the other ship. No sign of the blond guard.

She took in her new surroundings. The room was significantly smaller than the docking bay at her back, suggesting that the merchant ship as a whole was a fraction the size of _Extarga_.

There were two doorways, one to her front and one to her right. As voices came from the latter, she sprang for the opening to her front.

Spying ahead first, she moved through the door and into a long hallway. The air was warmer here, and a cushiony tan carpet tickled her feet. She was shocked by the sight of color on the walls, a mocha brown warmed by the touch of soft overhead light.

Ignoring the exhaustion and hunger that loomed over her, she moved quickly, seeing no promise of shelter. She was exposed, and if anyone spotted her now, all would be lost.

After passing through a few empty halls, guided by instinct alone, she spotted an open doorway. Beyond it, a sight she hadn't seen for a very long time.

Disbelieving, she was drawn forward.

The room was round with computer consoles wrapped around the edge. A center console near the back wall to her left stood alone. A massive window blanketed more than half the room and revealed a sight she'd been callously deprived of by Darius, a sight she had longed for.

Awe overpowered her as she gazed through the window.

_Space!_

Black. Deep. Vast. Speckled with pinpricks of light—endless possibilities masked in darkness. The power of it held her where she stood. Her tightly wound emotions nearly exploded at the beauty before her.

Only one thing was able to tear her eyes away and bring her back to reality.

She was not alone.

A young dark haired male sat facing the encompassing window with his back to her. His attention was on his computer console, clicking away, oblivious to her.

"Cargo's unloaded!" a distant voice came from behind. Someone was coming toward her. "The captain wants the ship ready to go as soon as he returns!"

Her stomach tightened, and a bead of sweat ran down her spine. Slowly, she edged away from the door and crouched behind the main console, the only place where she could hide. Unfortunately, she was but partially hidden. The approaching male might not see her upon entering, but if the other man sitting at his station turned, he would spot her instantly. She watched him intensely, holding her breath.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

After glancing around once more, a frightening realization hit her, and her throat went dry. She swallowed hard.

The control room!

The heart of the ship! A room that will soon be filled with bodies ready to take their stations. And the console she was crouched behind, considering its location in the room, must belong to the captain!

In a panic, she searched for another escape. There were no other doors. There was nothing else to hide behind, in, or under.

The station she crouched behind was only a few feet from the back wall, which was drawing her attention. She got the feeling that something was there. Something she was not seeing.

Then she caught it from the corner of her eye—a small latch near the floor, not too far out of reach.

The male entered the room. "Did you hear me?" he said to the other man. "Call the crew back to their stations. We'll be departing as soon as the captain returns."

"Yeah, I heard you."

Analia scooted out of view as the male advanced into the room to attend an unoccupied console next to his colleague, leaving his back to her.

She reached out and gently lifted the latch. There was a soft click. Her breath caught at the sound. Glancing at both men, she was relieved they didn't seem to have noticed the noise.

She pulled gently, half expecting the tiny door to squeak from lack of use, but it silently revealed a small opening just big enough for her to fit through.

Shuffling through the space, she pulled the door closed behind her.

_Click._

She almost growled at the sound, which seemed louder this time.

After a moment of bloodcurdling stillness, she released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and surveyed her new surroundings. It was a small, cramped space, seemingly for maintenance purposes. Tubes of varying thickness ran along one wall, lit by a dim line of lights. The space was barely large enough for her to lie down with her knees bent, which, at the moment, was extremely tempting. Every muscle in her body was pulled taut. Her heart still pounded with adrenaline.

Making herself as comfortable as possible, she fought against an exhaustion that threatened to drag her into oblivion. Passing out right now would not be good. Once she felt safe, she'd relent, but not yet. The ships had yet to detach and everything could still go wrong.

She tried to listen to what was happening outside her tiny enclosure. Nothing, it seemed. She pictured the two men clicking away at their computers.

Light and dark spots began to star her vision, indicating that she was losing her battle against the overwhelming fatigue pressing down on her. She had succumbed to exhaustion enough times to know that she was lost. Still, she strained to stay awake, rubbing her eyes to reinvigorate them in a near useless attempt to keep them from closing again. Her brain pounded with the need to shut down. Only now did her heart begin to slow. Breathing was becoming easier. Body relaxing, her head lulled.

_Stay awake._

Vision blurred.

The last thing she heard was the voice of a man, someone who had just entered the control room. She was unable to make out what was said, but the deep masculine timbre seemed to ease her in some way. She allowed it to roll over her, a vibrating energy that wrapped her in a cloak of security.

Or was that just exhaustion making her delusional?

Still, she couldn't deny the energy she felt from him, even from within her enclosure.

His rumbling voice boomed again. There was no making sense of his words in her tired mind.

She closed her eyes as her brain fell into blackness.

# Chapter 2

Sebastian Uthair sat in the all too familiar spot, across from Darius in a chair similar to his, but slightly lower to the ground. Darius was half hidden behind the large wooden desk, as usual. Wood was difficult to acquire in space, vastly expensive in its raw form. Fully crafted, it sold for astronomical prices, and was generally only acquired as a means to display status or wealth.

Wealth Darius had, which was made obvious by the overabundance of wood furnishings and expensive tapestries decorating his office. But status in space was meaningless. Space was a hostile environment that required a sharp and cunning mind over prestige any day. That, and a shit load of weapons.

Most of the items in Darius' office were displayed to exude a sense of upper-class and distinction, objects placed meticulously to build a sense of importance. Sebastian saw it for what it was: a facade of an egotistical man. This man was no more important than a leaf on the wind. As a merchant, Sebastian had to deal with these all-too-self-important types constantly.

Darius dressed—same as he decorated his office—with the purpose of seeming more important than he was. His suit, expertly tailored, was made from the finest fabrics. Shoes buffed to a perfect shine. And his coffee-colored hair was molded neatly, framing his face.

He sipped his cup of steaming liquid while, in turn, scrutinizing Sebastian. Sebastian's clothes were simple. His style was more wear-whatever-you-grab and less preconceived, although today he put a little more thought into his dress. A pair of black pants—riddled with pockets, buckles, and secret places to hide his weapons—a pair of thick black boots, scuffed with overuse, and a dark coat lined with a light-grey faux fur over a simple white shirt. Around his neck he wore two heavy silver chains, which could double as weapons if needed. His short black hair was purposefully messed, allowing his horns to peek out. He too knew how to put on a show. His appearance projected danger and reinforced the common knowledge that one did not want to piss off a demon, especially this one.

Darius sat silently, giving off his usual air of superiority. Sebastian matched him with a quiet reserve, knowing what was about to come.

Negotiation time.

"I'll give you half the agreed price," Darius finally declared in a tone meant to end the conversation there. He put down his mug and picked up his pen, readying to draw up the new contract.

_Two items missing from the load and the bastard thinks he should get half off!_

It was rare for any merchant to feasibly acquire everything on a client's list. Especially one of Darius' lists. Most captains understood this, which was why many merchants catered to the same clients. It was the natural ebb and flow of space commerce.

Yet, so was bargaining.

Stifling his annoyance, Sebastian replied, "That would not even cover my costs." His voice was calm, a slight lift at the corners of his lips, his face a mask of arrogance.

"A few of the items I requested are missing from the load. I cannot pay the full amount we agreed upon. If I did that, every one of my merchants would bring me only half of my order and demand full price." Darius tsked.

"There are only two items I was unable to acquire and those items are damn near impossible for anyone to get. I would have to risk my life or the lives of my crew, and you are not paying me enough for that."

"I disagree." A knowing smile played across his lips. "A few short weeks ago, a competitor of yours, Kierok, I believe was his name, was able to bring me one of those items and charged me less than you quoted." A steely pause. "Perhaps I should do more business with _him_."

Sebastian knew Kierok, a rival merchant and a heartless creature. He also knew that Darius was waiting for some kind of outburst at the prospect of losing him as a customer. He probably expected Sebastian to crumble at his words and beg for whatever pay he was willing to offer.

But Sebastian could not care less if he and Darius did business. There was something abhorrent about the man. Sebastian sensed he needed to tread cautiously around him and always kept his guard up, as though he were a snake in the grass waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Kierok doesn't give two shits about his own crew and callously risked their lives to procure your goods. I don't work that way."

Darius studied him for a moment, frown in place. "Kierok could provide me with all the same services as you," he pushed.

Sebastian only smiled, never taking his eyes from the man in front of him. "If that's how you feel, I will have my men pack up the cargo and we'll be on our way."

Darius tried and failed to hide a sneer before saying, "Unfortunately, I cannot wait for Kierok. But I will not pay full price for partial delivery." He slammed his hand down on his desk to emphasize his point.

Sebastian shrugged, unconcerned. "I will offer to take three percent off the agreed price."

Darius, visibly agitated, leaned back in his chair. "Make it thirty percent."

"Eight percent."

Through clenched teeth, Darius replied, "I will accept no less than twenty percent off."

Sebastian pretended to weigh his options. "Then I am sorry. I'll have to decline your offer." He stood, indicating the end of negotiations and his patience. He had many other contacts that would pay adequately for his supplies.

He held out his hand in a businesslike gesture, resolution covering his features.

Darius eyed his outstretched arm with disgust. "Fifteen percent," he growled.

Offering him a fake look of indecision, Sebastian pulled his hand back and contemplated the new offer. If he had more time, he would have argued further, but he needed to be on his way. "I think I can deal with that." He didn't offer his hand again, and neither did Darius.

Darius bent to unlock a drawer low on his desk, lifting from it a small black box. He reached in and counted, then recounted the correct number of chips before tossing them on the desk in front of Sebastian.

Sebastian gathered the payment, bid Darius farewell, and proceeded back to his ship, passing a handful of bodyguards on his way out. He couldn't wait to get back. The next stop promised to be a big job, one of their biggest. He was about to negotiate a contract with the Serakians—an ancient and wise race known for their peaceful and gentle nature. When riled, however, they proved to be exceptionally fierce.

To anyone who chose to accept, the Serakians were offering a generous sum to transport a curiously small amount of cargo. Sebastian had received the notice just after he'd negotiated the contract with Darius. Now that the contract was fulfilled, he and his crew would head straight to the Serakian rendezvous point. Luckily, it wasn't too far from their current location, and should only take a week or so of travel.

The commission from this coming job could feed his crew for months, maybe a year. Sebastian was protective of his crew. He was their leader, their captain. Every action he took affected them as much as it did him. Many in his crew were next to family. Of the more than two hundred crew members more than half were loyal friends, but only two were blood relations—his sister Sonya and his brother Calic.

With a sense of satisfaction, Sebastian crossed onto his ship. Calic grunted a nod at him. Calic was his second in command. He was a tough leader, and an even tougher adversary. When they would spar, Calic held nothing back, as if he possessed a deep rage clawing for release. He demonstrated a ferocity Sebastian had never seen the likes of.

Sebastian had the same rage bubbling inside him. However, he was able to hone it differently by focusing on the survival of his crew and on each commission. He understood where the malice came from, though. They'd both been betrayed by women they loved. Calic's beloved mate and their own mother had turned their backs on them at the worst possible moment.

As a result, both Calic and Sebastian kept their women at a distance, using them for what was necessary and discarding them the moment after. The only difference between the two was that Sebastian never slept with anyone aboard _Marada_ , though more than enough women lived on the ship. A few had even propositioned him. It was a strict policy he tried to enforce with everyone, including Calic. But, like many, Calic refused to submit.

"Is everything unloaded?"

Calic nodded. "Yeah, how did it go with Darius?"

"He got fifteen percent off."

"Huh. Not too bad." Calic pressed a series of buttons on the control pad and the docking hatch began to close. Metal screeched against metal as the heavy locks moved into place and a faint hiss issued as the door sealed shut.

They made their way to the bridge, where Sebastian claimed his position at the center console. As ordered, the crew was at their posts with the ship ready for departure.

An unfamiliar fragrance filled the space around him. He sniffed the air. It was feminine. "Cale! Have you had a female in here?"

Calic laughed carelessly. Conceit dripped from his words, "Depends on when you're referring to."

"Keep them out of the control room," Sebastian scolded. If Calic was going to consistently break the rules, there were plenty of more appropriate places to do it.

_So help me, if he had her on my console!_

Calic just shrugged in response.

Not soon enough, the ship roared to life. Sebastian was eager to get to the rendezvous and accept the contract before anyone else beat him to it. His ship was fast, but they'd been delayed due to the contract with Darius. In hindsight, he regretted accepting that commission, but the deal had already been struck, and Sebastian always fulfilled his contracts. He just hoped the delay hadn't cost him.

He wasn't too worried, however. The Serakians stipulations were extreme, to say the least. Even though the pay was great, he doubted many would be eager to take on the job.

His crew barked out their actions as the thrusters fired, surging _Marada_ forward. With the course set, Sebastian eased into his seat. The crew seemed to relax along with him.

For a long while, he watched the stars as they twinkled like trapped firebugs, thinking over his checklist of supplies. They'd made several stops before meeting with Darius, stocking up in preparation for the lengthy trip ahead. He wasn't certain how long their journey would take, just that it would be a great distance. That could mean weeks or months or, gods forbid, years. He wanted to make sure they were fully prepared for whatever was required.

Even though they were currently better stocked than they'd ever been, he would still barter for more supplies from the Serakians. Being over prepared would set him more at ease with what he was about to put his crew through.

* * *

——

* * *

Analia woke. The unfamiliar rumbling of the ship reverberated through her core. How long had she been asleep? Obviously long enough that the scraps of food she'd last eaten were all but consumed by her body. The ache in her stomach punished her for it. She was weak. Struggling to even move her arms, she wrapped one around herself for added comfort. Icy chills racked her. Shivering, she stifled a groan, remembering where she was—a strange ship and an unknown crew. Her heart jumped as realization hit her.

_I'm free._

It was done. She was no longer on the Hell Ship. Grinning stupidly, tears began to stream down her temples. She had to keep herself from laughing out loud. A weight seemed to have lifted from her chest, making her feel lighter.

_Freedom!_ her mind repeated the word.

Her joy was cut short, feeling herself growing weaker by the minute. Her already cramped space seemed to grow smaller with each breath. Shifting her body in an attempt at a more comfortable position, she rested her head on the crook of her arm and stared at the blank grey wall. Once more, her stomach growled. She clutched her abdomen in an attempt to silence it.

She could only hope the crew decided to dock soon so she could escape this ship and disappear into a faceless crowd. Her pulse jerked at the prospect. Being away from _Extarga_ was nearly intoxicating. But she knew, even though she'd escaped, she wasn't safe yet.

Getting on this craft had been easier than she could have imagined. Surely it would be just as easy getting off, right?

At the thought of Darius, she grinned anew, imagining the look on his face when he found that his precious Analia was missing.

_Did I just giggle?_

It was possible she was becoming delusional from thirst and hunger.

Just once, she would have loved to have seen the look of defeat on his face. To revel in the fact that she alone had bested him. Would he be engulfed in rage? Would he regret his treatment of her? Doubtful. Or would he set out straightaway to find her. Fear prickled her, and she lost her good mood. That's exactly what he would do.

They had to pull into a port soon. This was a merchant ship, after all.

Thinking back, she wondered if she'd adequately covered her tracks. Would the search take long enough for her to carry out her plan, or was he already on his way to claim her once more? She bit her lip with worry. There had been other ships to come and go. Hopefully he would seek them out first.

She found it was becoming harder to keep her eyes open. Voices trailed through the small grated door. To stay awake, she tried to concentrate on the conversation outside. It must be the captain's voice that she heard the loudest. His words were muffled. She scooted closer to the door to listen. Someone was saying something about...wards?

"Once the wards are in place, you may begin your long journey." This came from a commanding voice...a female voice.

"My men are gathering the supplies you promised." _The captain?_ "They should be back shortly." He paused. "Is this it? Is this all we are to transport?"

"That is all that was requested of us. It is enough," the woman's voice proclaimed. "The contents of this box are without price. Irreplaceable. This is a very important task you undertake. Ethanule's reasoning for choosing you above all others is...beyond me. Know this...if this box does not reach its intended destination, you will face the wrath of my entire race, as well as Ethanule's."

Analia's curiosity was piqued.

"I assure you, Lady Hieskita, we are excellent at what we do. There is no doubt...."

"You understand your journey will take you through the warring territories. Have you no reservations about that?" the woman interrupted.

"There are ways around those zones. It would only make the trip a little longer to avoid them. And, if we must, we have maneuvered those territories many times before." The captain's reply sounded as though he was smiling at the challenge.

"You fully understand the wards then? What will happen if they're breached?"

"Yes." He tried to conceal the exasperation in his tone. "If anyone leaves or enters the ship before the package is delivered, the contract is annulled...and we are still required to deliver the package, without pay," he said robotically, emphasizing the last words. "Or risk war from both you and Ethanule."

Lady Hieskita humphed and said nothing more.

Analia laid back, alarmed by their conversation. _Wards? Long journey? No one on or off the ship!_ She had to make her move now. But how?

Her mind felt dull, but she could tell there were many people out there. Too many for a clean escape, especially with her slow reflexes and weary body. More than that, she had no idea where they were. How far had they come? She realized now that she had no experience with new places, new cultures. She'd have no idea how to act, who to trust, how not to get herself killed.

Maybe she could wait it out. How lengthy could this trip be?

Thanks to Darius' favorite punishment, she found she was able to go without food for longer and longer periods of time. But how much more could she endure? Furthermore, how much time had already past? She was so hungry. She didn't think she could hold out much longer.

By the sound of soft approaching voices, the decision to stay and wait it out was made for her. The captain took one last moment to reassure the Lady Hieskita.

"I pray for your safe journey," she replied. Then the room went silent until she began chanting. Ancient sounding words that dripped with power and energy filled the empty space around her. Energy slithered and writhed around her. It clung to her—tiny tendrils clamoring, seeking a way inside.

At first Analia resisted, using her own energy to push against it, but it pushed harder. The power didn't feel malicious, just strong. She relaxed a little, allowing the strange current to do as it wished. It softened, and then flittered through her like a warm embrace before dissipating.

When the woman's chanting died out, she said simply, "The wards are in place."

The captain said his goodbyes and thanked the woman. After a short while, a great sound rumbled.

The ship was on the move once again.

Analia's body felt colder and weaker than before. Her initial resistance to the odd energy had cost her. Breath coming in short spurts, she curled into a ball in an attempt to warm her shuddering body. When that didn't work, she allowed the weariness to overcome and she welcomed the cradling arms of unconsciousness.

* * *

——

* * *

Sebastian was damn curious about that box. Never had a job been racked with such complications. His crew was used to docking at a space city every so often for supplies, equipment, and entertainment. They'd never gone more than a few weeks without stopping for some reason or another.

They were stocked to the brim for this trip, but it would be a trial for the crew, being on board for so long. After receiving their intended destination from Lady Hieskita, he figured the journey could take a little more than seven months, maybe ten. Once the job was completed, he would make sure they all had some much needed time away from _Marada_. Maybe find a cozy planet, brimming with fresh women.

The wards spooked him, knowing they were there yet unseen, like a parasite attached to his beloved ship. In the past, he had refused many jobs due to such restrictions in the contract. This one, however, promised to pay the equivalent of more than ten commissions combined, nearly double what he'd first thought it would be. He couldn't refuse.

To his utter shock, Ethanule had personally requested _Marada_ for this mission. Why?

Ethanule was the leader of a faction of pirates. They'd done one job for him in the past; a small commission at that. There had been nothing challenging about it, nothing that should prove any real worth as a merchant or a cargo ship. Furthermore, Sebastian hadn't hid his distaste for pirates. His family openly disliked them, since their father had been brutally murdered by their kind.

But sometimes, a job is just a job.

His thoughts drifted back to the parcel. Why would Ethanule ask for him? And what could be so important that came in such a small package? That which could invoke the wrath of an entire race? This commission could either be a great achievement or his utter destruction.

Calic eyed him warily, possibly thinking the same thing. "Our course has been downloaded into the ship's navigation system, Captain."

"Good. Let's get going then. Cale, take command."

Calic nodded and assumed control of the bridge.

Sebastian left, taking the stairway outside that lead to his quarters, just above the control room. A domed window, covering half the room, ceiling to floor, revealed a vast spacescape. Unlike the one in the control room, this one did not double as an oversized communication screen, just provided a great view.

_Marada_ itself was complete with luxuries, unusually so for a typical merchant ship. The previous owner—an extravagant and apparently rich individual—had adorned the ship with every comfort one could think of. There was a spa room with an oversized pool, and a built-in pub separate from the galley and salon. There was even a large room dressed with soil, live plants, and an artificial stream of re-circulating water. The place reminded many on board of their home planets.

But what was most amazing was _Marada's_ water recycling and regeneration system, unusual for such a large ship. Where many ships used the more economical powder enzyme shower systems, _Marada_ used real water. The system allowed for an abundant use of water—one of the scarcest commodities in deep space—over long periods of time. Water could be used and recycled many times over without contaminants entering the system. The only drawback was, every few decades, fresh water needed to be added to the system, siphoned from a planet that was overflowing with it.

Everything about the ship was made to provide a sense of comfort.

Even though it was constructed like a cruise ship, great attention had been paid to the internal workings as well. It was state of the art in defense and weaponry, as well as navigation. The ship came complete with an extensive database of galaxies, solar systems, stars, planets, different races, and extremely detailed information about places far out of reach.

Yes, the day he, Cale, and Sonya had stolen it, they found that they had acquired a good ship indeed. It had been five hundred years ago, the day of the betrayal, and the beginning of the war that ultimately destroyed their home planet. It was a war between his people and the warmongers who called themselves Kayadon.

The Kayadon had come in fast, without warning. Only a select few had known what was coming, and many of those who knew chose to betray their people and their planet in favor of the infidels. People like their mother and Calic's mate. He thought of them now with venom in his heart. Cowards.

Shortly after the war had begun, he and his brother had received word that the fighting was nearing their village. After a quick meeting among the elders, all able men were called together. The brothers hadn't hesitated to join the fray, to protect their homes and families.

Sonya had spent hours begging to come along. She wanted to fight as badly as they had. Sebastian, being the eldest male in the family, had refused.

Not that she couldn't take care of herself. She had always been a strong fighter, trained by Sebastian himself. Her speed was incredible. She was faster than anyone in the village, including Cale. But he wouldn't let her fight because he couldn't stand the thought of losing her in battle. He had always been fiercely protective of her. Both he and Calic still were.

Readying their battle gear, Cale and Sebastian were unaware of the danger in their own home. The two women had approached as if to kiss them goodbye, but, instead, injected them with a poison that would render them weak and, therefore, useless in a fight. The poison had taken affect nearly instantaneously. Both men—disoriented, muscles slack and weak—howled in rage. Sonya too screamed her horror. "What have you done!" he recalled her saying over and over again.

"The Kayadon have come to lead us," their mother had ranted in a radical tone he'd never before heard her use. For the first time, he noticed the glossy glazed look in her eyes as she fanatically spouted her support for the invaders.

Seething with anger, and a newfound hatred, they had left the two women behind as they made their escape. The fighting was close, and they could not defend themselves. Survival instincts had taken over.

They thought to hide out in a cave or the woods till the poison passed through their systems and they once again regained their strength.

That's when they came upon _Marada_ , belonging to a solitary Kayadon nobleman waiting to stake a claim on their home planet. The interloper had landed his ship far enough away from the war zone to not get involved, but close enough that he could join in the victory when it was over. The bastard never lived to see the end of the war.

After Sonya slit the man's throat, Sebastian and Calic readied the ship for takeoff. There was a short period of trial and error with the controls. Their kind had always been swift learners.

The Kayadon had quickly won the war. Their weapons had been far more advanced at the time, and they had the element of surprise. Soon after their victory, they had scorched the demon planet to the point of being uninhabitable. The Kayadon had taken what they could and enslaved many of Sebastian's people.

Sebastian shook away the memories of that terrible day. He hated that after hundreds of years later it still haunted him. He could see the anger festering within his brother too, and it had only grown over these long years. He feared that one day his brother could be lost to the rage forever.

He showered quickly and dressed before setting out again.

At present, Sonya was in charge of _Marada's_ pub. She seemed happy there. But, every once in awhile, he would see in her eyes the same look that he sometimes caught in his own, or in Cale's—a deep mourning for the loss of the home they would never know again.

Sebastian entered the pub—Sonya liked to call it The Demon's Punchbowl—and took a seat. Sonya spotted him and waved while attending Bertok, a trusted crew member who had been with them for years. Bertok shifted in his seat to nod a silent greeting at Sebastian, then turned back to his drink.

"Hey!" Sonya smiled, sashaying toward Sebastian. Her thin tail—a trait of female demons—swung side to side as she walked, making her look more seductive.

Sebastian ground his teeth at that. He suspected she did that intentionally.

Fortunately, the men on the ship were smart enough to stay away from her. They understood that he or Cale would kill anyone who dare hurt her. He also knew that Sonya resented their over protectiveness.

Sebastian smiled as she approached. "Hi, Sunny." To his amusement, she scowled at the nickname.

"What can I do for you, _Bastard_?"

He smiled wider. "I'll take some of that new stuff you got in."

"Ah, the raging inferno. It's pretty strong, even for us demons."

"Good. The stronger, the better."

Sonya poured him a generous glass and then prepared a shot for herself. She lifted the tiny glass expectantly. It was a ritual that they'd brought with them from their home planet. Whenever an unfamiliar drink was imbibed, it was always done in the company of a friend or loved one. The practice arose following a string of serial murders through the use of poison mixed with foreign alcohols.

Turned out an insane member of the demon community was going around killing off his friends. Imported alcohols had been used because a demon could easily detect poison through taste in familiar drinks, but with previously unconsumed substances that talent was nullified. Now, the simple ritual was a sign of trust and friendship.

Sebastian raised his glass.

While he sipped his drink, Sonya downed hers in one gulp, slamming her glass on the counter. "Good stuff," she declared.

Sebastian nodded his agreement.

"So," she continued. "We're stuck on the ship for some time, I hear." Again Sebastian nodded. "Well, it'll be good for business." Perking up, she poured herself another shot.

Even though Sonya was much more lenient with her pricing than the larger pubs in the space cities, whenever they docked, she always lost her clientele to the more lavish entertainment the cities provided.

She had made a profitable business out of her pub, wisely saving for her own future. Not that she was leaving her boys anytime soon.

Rather than use the ship's funds, she used pub profits to purchase whatever supplies she required, leaving herself independent of her brothers. That seemed to be important to her.

She also insisted on paying rent for her space. Sebastian had refused, but Sonya was persistent, giving him ten percent of her earnings each month. He saved everything she gave him, planning to give it all back to her one day—which, if he knew Sonya, would surely piss her off. Sebastian chuckled out loud at that. When Sonya gave him a questioning look, he just shook his head and went back to his drink.

"So what's the load this time?" she asked.

"Don't know. Something very small. Too small for the pay if you ask me. But the package is sealed and the contract is void if we take even a peek."

"Hey, sometimes the best things come in small packages. Just look at me." She did her best I'm-just-a-cute-little-demon impression, which always made him laugh. For a demon, Sonya was on the small side. So was Sebastian, for that matter, though he still towered over her.

"You're right," he said, ruffling her long, black-as-pitch hair.

She bellowed out a curse in Demonish, their native language, while swatting his hand away. Vainly, she rushed to fix the disheveled mess. Her violet eyes blazed with irritation, and a little amusement.

Sebastian continued to sip his drink reflectively, as Sonya went about her business, refilling glasses and seeing to anyone who entered.

He hoped the decision he had made to accept this commission was the right one. Sonya's words repeated in his mind. Whether the package was large or small, it was significant to someone. Significant to a lot of someones, it seemed. He couldn't help but wonder why they would trust him with it?

Finishing the last of his drink, Sebastian waved his goodbye to Sonya. Calic would be in charge for the next few hours so he had some time to kill before he took command again. In the gym, he worked out some of his pent up energy. A few hours later, he took a dip in the pool. Most days, he hated his downtime. He always felt he should be doing something. After the pool, he was relaxed and headed to his quarters for some rest before it came time to relieve Cale.

# chapter 3

Nearly a full week had passed and all was calm.

Sebastian had been working his crew hard. Round the clock detail. Each day brought them closer to their goal.

No one had complained. Everyone seemed as eager as he to get this job over with. Maybe they sensed what he did. There was something different about this commission. It was taken more seriously by everyone. Even the most careless of the crew were noticeably working harder.

Sebastian was at his command center, checking the status of their progress. For the last week, _Marada's_ engines had been churning at nearly constant full speed. It wasn't fast enough. He had hoped to be farther along than this.

Sighing, he settled into his chair, watching the vision of space at his front. It was stoic, calm, and never ending—deadly, if you weren't careful.

He imagined how different his life would be if he still lived on his home planet. If the war hadn't destroyed it, and if he'd never been deceived by those closest to him. He would have found a woman, he supposed, made a family. He would have built them an adequate home on his ancestors' land, and he would have strove every day to keep it up. Life would have been...boring.

As it was, he loved his adventurous existence, leading his crew and meeting all the strange races of the universe. Learning and mastering all the different languages and cultures. It gave him a purpose.

A faint groan jarred him from his thoughts, barely audible against the steady rumble of the ship, but distinct. Sebastian looked around. No one else seemed to have heard it.

Another moan, this one even quieter...anguished. His brows drew together. He had definitely heard something. He sniffed, again noticing something different in the air. Had been for a while, but he hadn't thought much of it.

He stood, concentrating on the source, opening his ears to the smallest noise. All he heard was the hum of the ship. But the sound had been very close. He thought it had come from behind, but the only thing back there was the bulkhead and a small maintenance compartment.

He approached the wall and stood silent. A rasping sound came from the other side. He bent down to open the door to the small compartment and staggered back in shock as a pair of tiny bare feet came into view.

"Who's this?" he bellowed, his voice a mix of threat and confusion. His horns heated as his body reacted to the flood of demon rage.

The owner of the wee feet made no move.

Sebastian bent closer, cautiously placing his hand on a thin ankle. Still no movement. He began to pull until a feminine body emerged from the small space.

The first thing he noticed was how thin and frail she looked, as though she would break with a light squeeze. She was marked with dirt from head to toe. A dingy, piece of cloth clung to her like a second skin, barely covering her.

He shifted his gaze to her face. Her skin was pale, but flawless. She had pouty lips, full and a tempting shade of pink. Blond, curling locks draped over her bare shoulders.

The female shivered.

"Who are you?" he ground out, finally pulling himself from his stupor. He realized he was holding her upper body in his arms. When had he reached for her?

At his booming voice, her eyes flew open. If Sebastian wasn't already kneeling on the ground, he would have fallen to his knees. He was instantly lost. The ship fell away and there was only her. The blue of her eyes was indescribable. So light they unabashedly pulled him in. No color imaginable compared. Her gaze turned pleading. For what? He didn't know. But in that moment he would have given it to her.

What was wrong with him?

Too soon, the color dulled and her head lolled before she slipped into unconsciousness. Sebastian, alarmed more than he should have been, felt for a pulse.

Faint, but still there.

The natural sounds of the ship slammed into him, as his surroundings came back into focus. Some of the crew had already gathered around, apparently repeating questions he hadn't heard them ask. They looked at him expectantly and at her with curiosity.

Lifting her off the ground, Sebastian took note of her weightlessness.

"Back to your posts!" he ordered, and then carried her out of the room without another word.

The crew must have been as shocked as he was to find this tiny creature, because none of them moved at his command. He didn't care. His only focus was getting her to the doctor. So he could find out how she was able to get onto his ship, not so he could see the vivid color of her eyes again.

Racing down the hall, he hardly noticed people stopping to stare at the strange beauty in his arms. The elevator made him impatient, moving slower than he remembered. He should get someone to look at it. Finally, he reached the deck that housed sickbay. A few more passageways, and he was there. The doors parted for him, and he carefully laid her on one of the cots.

From a desk in the corner of the room, Dr. Oshwald looked up. He was a thin, lengthy man from one of the short-lived races.

It seemed to take the doctor a moment to comprehend the sudden disturbance before he rushed to Sebastian's side surveying the situation. His jaw dropped.

"Where...? Who is...?" He studied her as Sebastian had, prickling his ire.

In a pointed voice, Sebastian replied, "I don't know who she is. I just found her hiding in a maintenance compartment. She looks on the brink of death."

Dr. Oshwald went to work with a skillful determination, while Sebastian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and watched.

The doctor came from a race of healers, their unique gifts worked on most, but not all. Sebastian had no knowledge of the mechanics behind the doctor's invaluable gift. He'd asked him about it once and the doctor had told him that it was like looking inside the body with his mind's eye. Oshwald could search out the problem and then fix it as needed.

That's what he was doing now, searching through the female's body, all the while intermediately checking her vitals in stony silence. Sebastian made his impatience known, and the doctor finally began his healing touch, placing a hand near her heart and the other at the crown of her head.

He stayed like that for a lengthy time. The whole while, she didn't stir, didn't make a sound. The breathing movements of her chest were light and barely noticeable.

A sheen of sweat began to glisten on the doctor's forehead. Finally, he removed his hands and slumped in his chair with obvious exhaustion. With effort, he wiped his forehead before he spoke. "She will live." The words were heavy. "If she'd been brought to me any later, there would have been nothing I could have done for her." Again he paused to catch his breath. "Forgive me. She took much of my energy."

Sebastian waited patiently for him to continue at his own pace.

"I've healed her body, but she has been without nourishment for a long time it seems."

"Are you saying she was in there starving to death?"

The doctor nodded.

"How long?"

"I couldn't say for sure. So many different races, so many different dietary needs. We won't know until she wakes and can answer for herself."

Sebastian knew that many races could survive long periods without food. A demon could go three or more months without nourishment. You would have yourself an irritable demon, but he would be alive. If this creature was anything like a demon, she could have been hiding on his ship for months.

As the doctor continued his business, fury began to rise in Sebastian. Before, irrationally, he had felt compassion for her. Now he had regained his senses and was livid at her trespass. How dare she think to steal herself onto his ship? Then a thought burned through him, settling deep in his gut.

_What of the wards?_

* * *

——

* * *

Analia fell in and out of blurred consciousness, the muted grey maintenance compartment tightening around her. She had waited too long and had run out of time. Her body was giving up. She knew she had only two choices ahead of her. Make her presence known within the tiny compartment, or resign herself to death. At least it was her choice to make and, though she was dying, she basked in that thought. No matter what she chose, her last action would be that of a free woman.

Inside the cramped box, she felt herself trying to leave her body. But she fought it. Why? Death would be so much easier. Suddenly, there was a warmth around her ankle, and then strong arms around her torso. A voice called her from the darkness. She sensed the presence of others with her, but strangely she didn't feel threatened.

_I must finally be dead._

As she opened her eyes, she saw the most beautiful male she could have ever envisioned. He had the blackest hair and a contrasting golden shade of eyes that shimmered with some kind of emotion she was not familiar with.

His features were exquisite, and he was so warm pressed against her freezing skin. She wanted to stay in his arms forever. He must be a being of the afterlife, come to guide her through death's doors. Her body still hurt with a lingering grasp of life, but that would soon be gone.

When the man began to fade, she begged with everything she had left for him to stay with her. But he was soon gone, a dark abyss taking his place.

* * *

——

* * *

Fuzzily, she awoke. Awareness came to her slowly as her mind brushed away the thick haze. She was no longer curled in a ball on the cold hard ground. Keeping her eyes closed, she accessed her other senses to evaluate her situation.

Her chest hurt, and her limbs were heavy and unresponsive. She was lying on something that was soft but firm. A musky fragrance lingered nearby. Cautiously, she peeked from underneath her lashes.

The beautiful being that she had thought would guide her through the portals of death loomed over her. No longer were his eyes warm, but an immense coldness covered his features. She realized then that she must be alive. Fear swept through her with renewed strength, and her heart sped. His eyes flickered toward her as he noticed she was awake.

In a deep, too calm voice, he asked, "Where did you come from?"

It unnerved her because Darius would sound that way when the pain was about to start. She stifled a whimper, seeing this man as her newest threat. He could be just like Darius, especially if he found out about her gift. She wanted to curl up into a protective ball, but her arms and legs felt like lead.

Growing visibly impatient, the man waited for her answer.

She didn't know how she _should_ answer. Would he take her back to _Extarga_ if she told him? She thought he might. He did business with Darius and would want to stay on good terms with him. Yes, he would definitely return her to hell.

Maybe she shouldn't answer at all. Pretend ignorance of his language. Pasting a look of confusion on her face, she shook her head as if to say, _I don't understand_. The small movement was painful, causing her eyes to go temporarily blind. She let her head drop to the soft pillow.

"Sebastian, she's still recovering," a voice offered from her right.

Her gaze darted painfully to the other man. She recognized him as a doctor. Sebastian's harsh gaze didn't waver. It became darker as he silently demanded a response from her. She decided to remain quiet.

"When did you sneak onto my ship?" He emphasized the word "my." When she didn't answer, he leaned his body over her, bringing his face close to hers. His hands landed on either side of her head, boxing her in. Two inches was the only thing that separated them. "You will answer me."

The warmth of his breath rolled over her and stroked her skin, making her shiver. She stared, wide eyed. His golden glare bore into her, demanding obedience and surrender. Something protruding from his hair caught her attention.

_Horns?_

Her heart picked up a notch, and her breath hitched. His features were godlike, perfectly shaped. She felt the need to touch his face, but her arms still would not respond.

Then, for some reason, she became hypnotized by his lips. As she inhaled his delicious scent, her mouth watered for a taste. Ever so slowly, she inched forward. His lips parted slightly, encouraging her. With a start, she realized she was becoming...aroused?

Thankfully the doctor interjected, freeing her gaze and putting an end to...whatever it was she was about to do. "Can you speak, miss?"

Sebastian pushed away from her with a growl.

They must have given her something, she rationalized. Some kind of drug. Darius never hesitated to keep her sedated for long periods of time. Grinding her teeth, she thought this was turning out to be just another hell ship.

Then she realized why she couldn't move her arms or legs. She was strapped down. All thought left her, and she cried out, struggling against the restraints. Anger soon turned into panic as she fought uselessly to free herself.

The doctor placed his hands on her shoulders to hold her still. "It's okay. We only strapped you down so you wouldn't roll off the bed."

His attempt to calm her didn't work. As she continued to flail she could feel the skin around her wrists start to break and bleed. Breathing was becoming labored as the panic grew like a virus inside her.

"Calm yourself, woman." Amazingly, she stilled at Sebastian's clipped words. His voice, still commanding, held a hint of concern. Or was she imagining that? Staring straight at the ceiling, drawing in deep breaths, she contemplated how that one phrase had diminished her distress.

The drugs, she quickly surmised. The concern in his voice was only for his equipment and not for her well-being. She registered the feel of hot tears streaming down her face.

Sebastian continued. "The restraints will stay until I receive answers."

"How do you feel?" The doctor resumed his questioning, as if he hadn't stripped her will away with his tonics.

She locked her jaw and stubbornly refused to talk.

He then focused his attention on Sebastian, and they began speaking as if she wasn't there. "I've healed her as best I can, though I suggest she get some sustenance in her, so her body can take over the healing process. I'm not sure what species she is. The shape of her ears should give us a clue."

Analia knew her ears were abnormal, pointed with a slightly rounded tip. She had never seen anyone with ears like hers. It was the one thing that made her feel more alone than being locked away in isolation.

"What of her blood sample? Have you found anything there?"

_Blood!_ Would they be able to determine her ability through her blood? Would there be something different about it? How could there not be? Everything about her was different. She swallowed hard.

Sebastian keenly noticed her reaction to his words and gave her a crooked smile. She hated herself for thinking it sexy.

"So you _can_ understand us." It wasn't a question. "Then you can answer my questions. Where did you come from? When?"

Analia nibbled her bottom lip, sickened at not being able to better control her emotions.

Sebastian grated, "Tell me, damn you...What is your name?" She flinched. He took note of her reaction and calmed his tone. "Just give me a name."

A name wouldn't hurt. It wouldn't tell him anything about where she had come from. She hesitated for a moment and then opened her lips to speak, but stopped, however, at her dry cracked throat. She had to swallow several times before she could speak.

Noticing her discomfort, the doctor lifted a glass of water to her mouth. She turned her head away, refusing to drink. The last thing she needed was more of their concoctions in her system. Shrugging, he put the glass back down.

"My name is Analia." Her voice was pained.

"Analia," Sebastian repeated in his deep rumble. She stifled another shiver at the sound of her name on his tongue. "Let the doctor give you some water, Analia."

"No." She cleared her throat, trying to summon her own moisture.

"Why not? You must be thirsty."

"Because you've most likely drugged it. You've already given me something, I can tell, it's making me react...differently."

Sebastian glanced at the doctor. "Have you given her anything?"

The doctor shook his head. "Nothing out of the ordinary." He paused. "But, again, I haven't been able to determine her species. She may be having a reaction to one of our medicines." Focusing on her again, the doctor asked, "How are you feeling exactly?"

"I...just..." She couldn't tell him that she seemed to desire his captain. "I just feel strange." Her head fell back, and she allowed her eyes to close as a wave of dizziness washed through her.

"You need to drink some water. It will make you feel better," Sebastian commanded.

Again she refused with a simple shake of her head.

"We haven't drugged it, I promise you."

"I have no reason to take your word on it."

A tick started in his jaw. She got the feeling that he wasn't used to being disobeyed. He reached for the glass and took a swift gulp. Analia watched the thick muscles of his throat work as he swallowed. "There, is that enough proof for you?"

"You could be immune," she rasped.

Growling, he shoved the glass at her. "Drink it or I'll make you drink it."

A hard dry lump stuck in her throat. She tried to reach out for the glass, but her bindings held her tight.

Frustrated, she began struggling again. Sebastian placed his hand on her stomach, and she froze completely, shocked at its gentle weight.

Afraid to look at him and risk becoming entranced once more, she kept her gaze on the ceiling. Her stomach quivered under his palm. "Remove your hand," she managed, though her voice was less commanding than she meant for it to be.

"If you promise to stay calm and take a drink, I will free you from your restraints."

Slowly, she nodded, not trusting him in the least. He began at her feet, his hands brushing her skin, leaving trails of warmth followed by a lingering coolness. Where he touched her, she felt a jolt of energy.

To her humiliation, her body began to react again. What did it think? That he was going to take her here? On the table? In front of the doctor? The thought sobered her. She didn't want anything to do with him. He was just another obstacle keeping her from her freedom.

After he unclasped her wrists, she sat up and allowed her legs to drop over the edge of the bed. As if to say _a deal's a deal_ , he held out the glass. She took it and dared a sip. It tasted...okay. The small amount of liquid was quickly absorbed by her dry tongue, and she took another sip. Soon she was gulping back the cool drink with fervor, barely taking a moment to gasp for air. She hadn't realized how badly she was in need of it.

"Good girl," Sebastian said when she set the empty glass down.

Then he scooped her up in his arms. She'd been so taken by surprise at the sudden action that she'd actually wrapped her arms around his neck for support. When she realized what she was doing, she weakly pushed away from him.

She wasn't long in his grasp, as he had only crossed to the other side of the room and set her down on a thin cot within an alcove—which became like a small room when a solid beam of energy flashed between them.

A force field?

It was transparent with a slight haze, masking everything on the other side in an auburn hue.

_From one prison to another!_

"There. You're free of your restraints."

She made a rough noise in her throat. "You call this free?"

"It's as free as you're allowed on my ship. You've committed a serious crime by smuggling yourself onto my ship. It requires serious punishment. I'm willing to be lenient, though. If you tell me where you came from, I promise to take you back there unharmed."

"I'd rather die," she supplied.

He raised an eyebrow and waited a moment before speaking again. "You're in luck then. The punishment for your crime is death." He scanned for a reaction. When he didn't receive one, he continued. "If you don't tell me where you came from, then your only other option is to be released into space. Actually, you'd be releasing yourself into space. In my culture it would be seen as an honorable death." He crossed his arms in expectation.

Analia considered his words carefully. He was offering her death at her own hand. She'd contemplated suicide before—many, many times before. But, as closely guarded as she'd been, she never found ample opportunity. Now it was being offered to her on a silver platter.

Thinking over her life, she could only call up memories of suffering and sorrow. There wasn't a single moment that brought her joy. No memory sparked a hint of happiness to make her want to cling to this existence. Could she really push the button that would end her completely?

Yes.

Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

_At least I had tried._

Her greatest and, sadly, sole achievement was her escape from _Extarga_. If she were dead, Darius could truly never hurt her again. The time she had spent in the small maintenance room had changed her completely. Even though she was technically still trapped, it was a small taste of what true freedom could be. It had been her choice, her decision, and no one else's, that brought her here now. She had felt the power of freedom and knew she could never go back. The moment she set one foot back on the Hell Ship would be the moment her spirit broke completely, reducing her to a mere shell of herself.

And here she was, locked up at the amusement of yet another arrogant captain. If she couldn't be physically free, then his offer was the only way to end her suffering.

With her decision resolved, she met Sebastian's gaze. "I accept your offer."

"Good. First tell me the moment you came to be on my ship."

"No. I accept your other offer." She almost smiled when his jaw dropped.

# Chapter 4

Sebastian felt his face frozen in shock. Had she just agreed to kill herself? He'd only suggested that to scare her into giving him the information he wanted. There was no way he was going to let her kill herself, at least not while the wards were still in place. Was she that desperate to escape wherever it was she had come from?

When he'd told her he planned to take her back, she had given him a look of such misery and...betrayal? He'd almost wanted to take it back. Almost.

Gaining composure, he considered the prospect that she was calling his bluff. She didn't look like she had the courage to commit such an act. His easy smile returned.

The force field masked her in a soft haze. She seemed to shimmer with a glow that made her look ethereal. Earlier, he had scented her sweet arousal and was still trying to recover from its impact.

When she had been on the medical bed, he thought to frighten her into talking by using his naturally commanding voice and large demon body to intimidate her. At first, it looked as though it had worked...then her eyes had grown heated, dilating as she stared at his horns, his lips. Her body had hummed with need. The lids of her eyes had drooped to half-mast. He thought she might kiss him just then, and damn it if that wasn't exactly what he was craving in that moment.

He'd gone instantly hard for her. He had never been caught off guard like that in his life. Everything in him was screaming to claim her. The scent of her desire had been almost maddening.

The doctor hadn't noticed the exchange when he'd interrupted, pulling her gaze away from where Sebastian wanted it. And the man had almost lost his head because of it. It had taken Sebastian a moment, but he'd calmed himself enough to save the doctor's life. His lower region, however, refused to listen to reason.

She was staring at him now, with those beseeching eyes, and he realized he hadn't said anything for a while.

"Very well." If she was going to call his bluff, he would call hers right back. "Do you have the strength to walk?"

She nodded. Disengaging the force field, he motioned for her to follow him.

Dr. Oshwald looked appalled. "Captain?"

Sebastian waived him off. The doors swooshed open, and he stepped out into the hallway. Analia timidly followed close behind. His goal was to trick her into thinking he was going to force her to do this. Without a doubt, she would break—he imagined it would be at the last moment—admitting everything he wanted to know and would beg him to allow her to live.

He couldn't imagine her home could be so horrible that she would willingly submit to suicide in order to keep herself from it. Who would hurt such a delicate creature? Who wouldn't strive to make such a beauty content in every way?

At first, he'd suspected her to be some flippant spoiled wife, running away to torment her husband for some trivial thing. But that wouldn't account for her appearance when he'd first found her. Her clothing was nothing but a torn piece of cloth, obviously neglected for some time, suggesting she and her husband might be impoverished.

He peaked at her from the corner of his eye. Her hair was golden with hints of red when struck by light. Her features were not the features of a poor woman. A woman that looked like she did should be on the arm of some wealthy male who would lavish her with gifts and jewelry and anything else she might crave. Perhaps her husband didn't take good care of her. His loss. Sebastian would take her off his hands...for a little while at least. Eventually he would dispose of her in some corner of the universe, before she could become attached.

His gaze dipped to the sorry rags she wore. Dirt filled, ratty, and tattered as it was, it couldn't disguise her natural beauty. In fact, it was just the opposite. It revealed every curve of her body, leaving nothing to the imagination, and it swished seductively against her thighs as she moved.

As they walked—well, _he_ walked; she appeared to glide down the hall—they began to gather a crowd. Sebastian hadn't anticipated the ship's residents. He rarely walked the halls for pleasure.

People stopped what they were doing in mid-action to gape at the newcomer. He ignored them as best he could. Analia, however, was looking at everything and everyone, as if she were surrounded by the most interesting things in the universe. When they passed by a mother and her child, Analia stopped short and let out a gasp. The child, a small round faced boy with cropped blond hair, smiled sweetly and waved at her, drawing from Analia an amazed giggle. The sound reached something deep inside him, and he couldn't keep from glancing at her. She was smiling too. The sight of it caused him to lose his footing, and he stumbled.

Righting himself, his curiosity of the awe she seemed to be feeling got the better of him. "You act as though you've never seen a child."

"I haven't," she stated simply, still smiling at the little boy as they continued past.

"How is that possible?"

She merely shrugged.

He let it drop for now. The entire length of their journey, he allowed her to linger and marvel at anything that caught her eye. Her obvious unfamiliarity with the most common things fascinated him. A small window into space drew her attention for a moment. She looked as though she were savoring it rather than imagining herself out there.

Her nose flared at a fragrance as they passed Marik's galley and the adjoining salon. If a door was open as they passed, she crooked her neck to see more.

Sebastian was sure that anyone who seemed to want to experience all the things around her would never do what she expected him to believe she was about to do.

Eventually they reached the exterior maintenance access chamber. A room that had two hatchways; one hatch closed off the small room from the inner ship and the other, when activated, opened to space. Right now, the room was deactivated, hadn't been used in years.

He led her into to the chamber and pointed to a button. "When the room is sealed, all you need do is press this and the hatch will open."

Analia regarded the button warily. "That's all?"

"That's all." He noted her sickened expression and felt he was about to win this battle of wills. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

For a moment, she just stared at the button, then, "No. I'm ready." Her voice remained steady, almost light in tone. He expected to hear a quiver or a twinge of doubt.

_Could she truly mean to do this?_

"Do you know what happens to a body out there, without protection?"

She looked him dead in the eyes, hers full of cold understanding, and he knew the truth of it before she spoke. "Yes...I do." Her tone was grave. He had no doubt that she very well may have witnessed such an event first hand. The revelation dropped his stomach like a solid piece of iron.

While keeping his face blank, he stepped out of the room. She turned to him then, and he prayed she was about to cave, no longer filled with confidence.

"Thank you," she said. Her eyes were slightly glossed.

Sebastian scowled at her. She was looking at him as if he was doing her a great kindness, instead of ending her life. It felt so wrong.

"Don't thank me for this." He forced himself to close the door, with only a sliver of hope now that she wouldn't press that button.

Turning her back, she stood motionless for a heartbeat...two. Sebastian found himself desperate to see her face, to have her look at him so he could implore her to ask for her life.

_If she would only ask._

His heart sank as her hand rose above the button. He watched, glued to her actions, as though this were truly a matter of life and death. As if that button would do anything at all. She didn't know this was only a game. Her hand was steady. She accepted as truth, that once her hand came down, her life was over.

* * *

Analia waited as Sebastian exited the small room and closed the door behind him. Her heart was racing in her chest. A lump settled in her throat.

Aside from her body's reaction to the knowledge that it was about to die, she was at peace. There would be no more fighting, no more suffering. She felt light as though a great burden had, or was about to be, lifted. She wanted to smile and hug Sebastian for this gift, but all she could manage was a simple thank you. And she almost couldn't get that out. He would never know how much she appreciated what he was allowing her.

Sebastian had asked her if she knew what was about to happen to her. She knew all too well. A few years back, Darius had caught one of his crew stealing from him and, as punishment, the offender was thrown into space just as she was about to be now. Darius had made her watch the cruel scene. She remembered him smiling at her as though he were providing her with entertainment.

The only thing she could remember was the torment burned into the poor man's features as he suffocated to death. After several moments, it looked as though something in him had ruptured. Blood seeped from his nose and mouth. His eyes appeared to boil away, his body twisting in agony. He was conscious through all of this. It was a very unpleasant way to die.

When Analia had first discovered what was about to happen to the man, she thought it would be over quickly for him, but it was not quick enough. The poor man's horror-filled face was etched in her mind forever.

Even having the knowledge, Analia was not afraid. _It will be over soon_ , she reassured herself. There would be pain at first, but it would be nothing compared to everything she'd been forced to live through.

Sebastian's face was truly grave when he left the room, and she could only hope that he wouldn't regret giving her this...final freedom.

She raised her hand above the button, excited for the prospect of what was to come in the afterlife.

She let her hand fall.

Nothing happened.

Perhaps she didn't press it hard enough. She pressed it again, still nothing. She pressed harder, using the weight of her entire body. She began to bang her fist against the damn button.

Then the door opened—not the one she was hoping for—and Sebastian entered with a growl. She glared at him and backed away.

"Why?" Anger shook her voice.

"I wanted to know if you were serious," he sneered, gradually approaching.

Analia kept the distance between them until she was backed against the wall. "You were just playing with me!" It was a statement not a question. Hearing the hurt in her own voice, she was disgusted with herself for believing him. Her stomach retched. Freedom once again ripped from her grasp.

"Why would you want to do that?" His voice was rough and full of venom.

"Why wouldn't I?" she whispered, refusing to elaborate.

"Well?" he demanded.

Full realization hit her. Her eyes closed briefly and her body slumped in defeat. He was going to keep her alive. "Do what you will with me, but I don't have to tell you anything."

Without warning, he hooked his large hands around her waist and threw her over his shoulder. She gasped with surprise. She thought she should scratch, scream, or bite him to get away, but what good would it do?

She felt the strength of his arm around her legs. His hand on her thigh tightened as if he had read her thoughts. If she could get away, she wouldn't get far, and it would only worsen her situation. In defeat, she allowed her body to fall against him.

Carried all the way back to sickbay, she was once again placed in the little room, force field in place. He stood there for a moment. She refused to look at him. The doctor said nothing at their reappearance, only watched with silent reserve.

Finally Sebastian left the room. She remained where he'd dropped her, filled with a dull detached feeling.

Her little room consisted of only a small cot protruding from the wall with a thin, but plush mattress, a lightweight soft blanket, and a pillow. The pillow's softness consumed her as she laid her head on it.

Laughing without humor, she realized these were the best accommodations she'd ever had. A few hours passed before she allowed herself to drift into sleep.

* * *

——

* * *

Sometime later, she woke to a woman entering the room, a tray in her hands. The force field was removed briefly and the tray set down on small protruding shelf. The woman who brought it smiled at Analia expectantly.

The aroma of food filled her lungs. It smelled so good. Her stomach grumbled with an impatient demand.

She lifted her body into a seated position and grabbed for the offering.

At the first bite, Analia's taste buds were swimming with delight. On the Hell Ship, she was only given a small amount of sustenance, always ruined scraps or a brown-green blob of something unrecognizable, which was horrid. This was nothing like she'd ever tasted before. Each flavor sang against her taste buds. She eagerly shoveled in another mouthful, and another.

"Analia, right?" The woman was still standing there, staring at her. Analia realized she was shoving food in her mouth like a starved beast. Making an effort to slow herself, she nodded at the strange woman.

She had hair much like Sebastian's, similar in color, styled in two pigtails draping down her front. She had horns as well, though more dainty, which were poking out of her black hair. There was even a similar magenta hue at the base of them. She wore a deep purple strapless top and a short black skirt.

_Is that a tail?_

Analia marveled as the thin tail swished back and forth. The woman's footwear—also strange—were spiked at the heel.

"I'm Sonya," the woman said. "It's nice to meet you, Analia."

Analia swallowed her food. This woman knew her name? She must have spoken to Sebastian. Her guard instantly went up. "Thank you for the food, Sonya," she said, not sure what else to add, and not wanting to be impolite.

Sonya offered another sweet smile. "You're welcome. Though it's not the best stuff. Prisoners are only allowed whatever is left over."

Analia eyed the food again. _This was the leftovers?_ She focused on Sonya, who continued to closely inspect her. Analia felt her cheeks heat at the unusual scrutiny, which made her acutely aware of the fact that Sonya was in clean tailored fabrics, while her own clothing was ripped and filthy.

"You're pretty," Sonya exclaimed. Analia nearly coughed up her food. "No wonder you have his panties in a wad." She laughed then.

_Panties in a wad?_

"You know, you're the only person to ever sneak onto our ship...ever," Sonya emphasized.

Analia's internal alarm went off. Was Sonya here for information? Sebastian had obviously sent her. But Sonya wasn't asking for specifics and was looking at her with something like...respect?

"That's pretty impressive," Sonya continued, cementing Analia's confusion at this odd conversation.

"Thanks?" It sounded more like a question than a term of gratitude.

Sonya laughed at her reply, a carefree sound that was almost foreign to Analia. Pointing to the food, Sonya added, "Next time I'll sneak you something better than leftovers." With a wink she turned and left Analia to gape after her.

No one had ever spoken to her in such a way. She decided it must be another of Sebastian's tricks. He was determined to know where she'd come from, and that did not bode well for her.

After finishing off the rest of the food, Analia relaxed into the little bed, enjoying her full stomach. The bed was astoundingly comfortable. Even in the brightly lit space she easily fell asleep.

When she woke sometime later, the doctor kept asking how she felt and if she needed anything. She just assured him all was fine and curled into the warm blanket, prepared for a long duration of captivity.

She thought she had recovered from the devastation of Sebastian's trick, until he entered the room. Her outrage returned in full force. She should be grateful, in a way. Instead of attraction, the sight of him now filled her with rage.

* * *

Sebastian almost laughed at the look Analia gave him. Without a doubt, she was imagining scratching his eyes out at this very moment. Though amusing, that was going to make what he was about to do a little difficult.

Sonya had come to him earlier to convince him to, as Sonya put it, _give the poor girl a break_. Saying she _looks harmless_. He considered her words throughout the day and decided to follow Sonya's advice. The chit seemed harmless enough.

He approached the cell and disengaged the force field. "Come with me," he said, as if he were commanding any of his crew.

Her mistrust of him showed because she didn't move from her spot. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I'm taking you to another location. You don't need the doctor anymore."

She gathered up the blanket and pillow and stood, clutching them as though she expected them to be ripped away from her.

"You won't be needing those."

Her grip tightened for a moment, then, eyeing them with sorrow, she reluctantly dropped them onto the cot. The strange action made him even more curious about her, but he refused to let himself get involved. Someone had to have treated her badly. He ignored the ire that arose with the thought.

What did he care?

Because of the wards, he was stuck with her for a time. Once the mission was over, he would put her off his ship and out of his mind. The wards seemed to be intact, so she must have been on the ship before they went up.

Once again, she followed close behind as he led her out of sickbay. This time she didn't marvel at anything, keeping her eyes to the ground. Lost her vitality so easily? He was irritated that he might be somewhat responsible for the change in her.

After walking for some time, he stopped in front of a door and opened it, waving her inside. Hesitantly, she peered into the darkened room, unmoved. She didn't trust him. Why should she? He entered the compartment, which illuminated instantly at his presence. Analia just stood at the door. A tiny spark of interest lit her eyes, but still she didn't join him.

The room was of decent size, a bed against the wall to the left, couch and table near the center. Through a doorway to the right was a personal bathing chamber. It was one of the nicer rooms on the ship. He told himself he was offering her this one because it was the only furnished one available. But that wasn't true. There were a few smaller unoccupied rooms. For a reason beyond his comprehension, he wanted her impressed.

"You can stay here as long as you vow not to hurt yourself. You'll have this room all to yourself."

Finally entering, she peered around, but didn't respond.

"If you can't promise me that, then I'll take you back to the doctor and leave you there till I find a place to drop you off for good."

Her eyes blazed at that. "Drop me off?"

"Yes, we have a task to complete first, but after that I've decided I'll leave you at the nearest space city." The smile she gave weakened him, as well as doubled his interest in her. Did she not care where she'd be dumped? "Uh, can you promise me that?" He ground out.

"Yes," she rushed, smiling wider. But then her face dropped, and she eyed him with sadness. "Is this a trick?"

"No."

Studying him for a moment, she shook her head. "This is just a trick. You don't just give a trespasser room and board. What do you want with me?"

Sebastian let out a breath. "This is not a trick. We have a long way to go and, no matter where you came from, you'll need to stay on the ship till we've reached our destination. Where would you rather be? Here? Or lying on that cot for months?"

As she gave the room a second glance, he proceeded to show her around. When he got too close, she skittishly backed away from him.

"I won't hurt you."

She continued to watch him warily. For now, he decided to let it go.

"The bathing room is in here. I'll leave while you clean yourself and return with something for you to sleep in. In the morning, I'll show you around the ship before you begin your new job."

"Job?"

"Of course, this isn't a free ride. You'll work, just like everyone else."

"What kind of job?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't decided yet." He moved to leave. "I'll be back with clothes for you soon, so if you don't want me here while you're still naked and wet, you'd better hurry."

With that, she rushed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Sebastian left, smiling with amusement. Unfortunately, his teasing had backfired, hardening his already painfully stiff shaft. He imagined her damp body glistening with dripping beads of water, her blond locks the only thing clinging to her as they wound down her shoulders and around her naked breasts. Imagined himself licking and sucking those breasts between his lips, licking the wetness from every inch of her. His hands cupping her ass, her soft moans of pleasure in his ear as he drove into her.

He found himself rushing to get back.

**Continue the series with**

THE DEMON'S POSSESSION
_Shadow Quest Series_

THE DEMON'S POSSESSION

THE DEMON SLAVE

THE DEMON RETRIBUTION

DEMON UNTAMED

* * *

_Creatures of Darkness (CoD)_

A WICKED HUNGER

A WICKED NIGHT

A WICKED DEISRE

* * *

_Ever Nights Chronicles (CoD)_

KEEPING HIS SIREN

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This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author's imagination.

* * *

License Notes:

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Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.

Copyright 2018 by Kiersten Fay

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