A Son for the Alien Warrior (Treasured By The Alien #2)(8)

“Yes, that is why the ship needs to be intercepted and prevented from returning to Vedeck.”

“Earlier, you said if we were intercepted,” she said slowly.

He avoided her gaze for a long moment, then finally sighed.

“I have a transmitter that I was to use to alert the Cire ship if this occurred again. They are supposed to be monitoring for the signal, but I am concerned because I have not received a response. It has been many months since I was taken into this crew. I hope they have not stopped waiting for my signal.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What if they have? How am I going to find Judith and Charlie?” The other problem struck her as she spoke. “And what’s going to happen to me?”

“I will protect you to the best of my ability,” he promised. “We are currently headed to Driguera. There is a port there with a somewhat… questionable reputation. Commander Kadica plans to auction off the troublesome female.”

“You can’t let him do that!”

“I know. If I can’t reach my contacts, I will have no choice but to call in the Patrol.” He did not seem happy about the idea.

“Is that bad?”

“They will arrest the entire crew and I doubt that I will gain much leniency because I called them.” He squinted at her with his working eye. “And they will erase the memories of all of the humans and return them to Earth. Including you.”





Chapter Five


“But Captain…” Maldost whined as he trailed reluctantly behind Cestov through the crowded streets of the underground market on Driguera.

“Stop complaining. You knew when you brought the slonga on board that she required specific nutrients.”

“I did. And I thought I had secured enough supplies.”

“Just like you thought that she was a male?” he said dryly.

Maldost’s ears went down. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“No. Which is one of the reasons that you are buying supplies using your own credits.”

They both knew that Cestov would never let the slonga or her calves starve, but he intended this as a lesson for the younger male. He had already arranged to have his navigator procure additional bedding.

Maldost followed him in abashed silence as they turned down a narrow alley lined with a variety of food stalls. The aromas were overwhelming, ranging from tantalizing to unspeakably foul. The stalls were stacked high with skewers of unidentifiable fried substances, fruits of every description, piles of baked goods, and hundreds of other types of food. A cacophony of voices hawked their wares. As usual, his crew member bounced back quickly from the reprimand.

“We should stop and have a meal while we’re here,” Maldost suggested hopefully, casting a longing gaze at a stall selling strips of some kind of dried meat.

Cestov sighed. “Maldost, this is not a recreational trip. We need to get the supplies, get back to the Wanderer, and get off Driguera. The last thing we need is for the Patrol to decide to make one of their periodic raids on this place while we have the slonga on board.”

“We could just get something to take with us—”

“I beg your pardon, sir. May I have a word?”

Cestov scowled at the Vedeckian addressing him. The tall white-skinned male was a member of a species he despised with all his heart. They called themselves traders also, but they had no scruples and gave the entire profession a bad name. The male was accompanied by a small figure completely covered in a dark cloak and he wondered who had been unlucky enough to fall into the Vedeckian’s clutches.

“I have no time for you, Vedeckian,” he growled and started to move on.

To his shock, the male had the audacity to grab his arm. He snatched the Vedeckian’s hand, squeezing the narrow bones together.

“You forget yourself.”

He heard a soft gasp from the cloaked figure and something about the sound caught his attention but before he could investigate, his captive spoke again.

“Please, sir. You must listen—I need you to call for assistance from another Cire ship.”

“You want me to call a Cire ship?” The unexpected request made him drop the male’s hand. Most of his people had remained on Ciresia despite the plague. Could his brother simply have moved on to another ship? And yet… “You know we have no use for your kind.”

“I have been working with other Cires to stop an illegal trade operation,” the Vedeckian lowered his voice to a barely perceptible whisper, “transporting females.”

He stepped back, stunned and disgusted by the very idea. To treat a precious female as an object to be bought and sold? Maldost growled, a low rumbling sound that echoed his own anger, and another soft noise came from the cloaked figure.

“Why should I believe you?” He frowned suspiciously at the other male.

“I know you have no reason to do so, but there are females who need assistance and you are my only hope unless I call in the Patrol.”

This was exactly the type of quixotic quest that would appeal to his brother.

“What is the name of the Cire captain?” he demanded.

“The former captain was Hrebec Nak’Charen, but he has retired on Trevelor.”

Another mention of the planet. If the captain had retired there, it was even more likely that a Cire colony existed. He tried to suppress the surge of hope. It would not be the first time he had been disappointed.