A Son for the Alien Warrior (Treasured By The Alien #2)(9)

“And the current captain?”

“Captain Armad? He is not Cire, but a large part of the crew is still of your race. Will you help me?”

He had every intention of contacting the ship to see if his brother was on board, but to request aid for the Vedeckian? A part of him wanted to shrug and tell him to call in the authorities, but how could he know if the Vedeckian would actually take such a step? He also had a measure of sympathy for the male’s reluctance to call in the Patrol. While they did an excellent job of enforcing law and order, they tended to see every situation in black and white and rarely considered any nuances. It didn’t help matters that he would also be in trouble if they arrived before he could exit the port.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Could we perhaps find somewhere less crowded to discuss the matter?” The Vedeckian cast a nervous glance around the crowded street.

Perhaps he had a point. They had not yet attracted a crowd, but more than one interested glance had been sent in their direction.

“Very well. Maldost, it appears you are going to get your wish after all. We will use one of the upstairs rooms at the Tavern of the Four Winds.” He turned back to the Vedeckian. “You know the place?”

“Yes, but we must hurry.”

That soft sound caught his attention again and he looked down to see that his tail was tugging gently at the cloak of the Vedeckian’s companion. What the hell? He sternly brought it back under control, resisting the impulse to apologize.

“Lead the way. We will follow a step or two behind.”

The Vedeckian gave an abrupt nod and he and his companion moved up the street. Cestov felt an odd reluctance to let the cloaked figure out of his sight and he followed perhaps less discreetly than was advisable, even as his excitement increased. Two possible leads on his brother—this was more than he’d had in years.

“Captain, what are you doing?” Maldost asked. “You don’t really trust that male, do you? You know you can’t trust a Vedeckian.”

“Normally, I would agree with you, but he seemed… different. I believe that he is sincere. And what reason would he have to lie?” The tall figure ahead of them moved with surprising speed and Cestov increased his pace, still unwilling to let the cloaked figure get too far away. “And if he is telling the truth, I am honor-bound to help.”

“Well, yes, of course.” Maldost lowered his voice. “You don’t really think they are trading in females, do you?”

“Would you put anything past the Vedeckians?” he asked grimly.

The male and his companion disappeared into the tavern and he increased his speed again. At least the male had had the sense to choose the rear entry. He ducked through the same door just as the host, a portly Drigueran, came back down the stairs.

“I am expected,” he said shortly.

“Yes, of course. However, you do understand there is a fee for the discretion of the house?” The Drigueran leered at him and Cestov couldn’t help wondering exactly what he thought was going to occur in the upstairs room.

He handed over a small amount of credits, then a second handful. “Bring us two meals and two mugs of ale as well.”

The Drigueran looked at the credits and his eyes turned greedy but then he took another look at the two of them and simply bowed his head. “I will make the arrangements. Top of the stairs, third door on the right.”

Unexpectedly eager, Cestov took the stairs two at a time. The dingy hallway did not look promising, but he had been here before and knew that the private dining rooms were more luxurious than one would expect.

Now that they were away from the street and the constant bombardment of food odors, he caught a tantalizing hint of fragrance, something delicate and floral that he had never encountered before. He wondered if he would be able to discover the source once his meeting was concluded, but as he pushed open the third door, he realized that the delightful scent had increased.

As he expected, the room was lushly decorated with heavily carved wall panels in dark crimson and matching padded benches surrounding a low central table, but his attention focused on the Vedeckian and his cloaked companion. He caught a hint of a soft voice as the concealed figure whispered urgently to the other male and he instinctively drew closer.

As soon as he was within arm’s reach, his tail once again tugged at the cloak before he could stop it.

“Would you stop doing that?”

The low soft voice was unquestionably feminine, and he stared in bemused wonder as she threw back the hood of her cloak. A mass of long pale hair tumbled out and big blue eyes stared up at him indignantly. Pale golden skin, completely defenseless, covered a soft round face with a funny little nose and an impossibly lush pink mouth. All of the blood in his body went straight to his shaft.





Chapter Six


Mariah stared up at the big alien whose tail—his tail—had been tugging at her cloak. She had never imagined anyone remotely like him. Textured skin in shades of deep green covered almost reptilian features with a flat nose and a broad, thin mouth. Dark, wide-set eyes focused intently on her face. Instead of hair, he had darker ridges covering his head that continued down onto his shoulders—his very broad shoulders. The tight black shirt and pants he was wearing did nothing to conceal an extraordinarily impressive set of muscles. She should have been intimidated, but something about him instinctively made her feel safe.