Fenturi Fate (Spacestalker Saga Book 1) (17 page)

Ren was still loath to do so.
The royal house Vinopol had been his curse for years, a dead weight around his neck that would never get lighter.
He was both proud of his heritage and at the same time hateful and resentful of it.

His father had hated him with the same passion he’d hated Ren’s mother. As much as he’d loved her. The dichotomy of emotions had confused Ren for years, because he’d wanted to love his mother, that “treacherous Fenturi witch who’d seduced Zedrax away from reason.” He’d heard the stories too many times to count, and his contradicting feelings for his mother—and himself—had never resolved.

And now he had his own Fenturi witch locked in a small room right next to his own.

His thoughts grew dark with memory, a desire for retribution, and unwanted carnal need.

Castor warily tapped Ren on the shoulder and sighed with relief when his friend’s dark brow rose in question.

Lately, Ren’s moods had been as changing as the Ocaian tides.
T
he more Castor wondered about his friend’s state of mind, the more he realized Ren had been acting strangely since he’d met Captain Dare—The Mari.
The old king’s death hadn’t helped matters either.

Ren shook his head and moved to his chair to make notes in his journal while the twins conferred with Primo about where to settle on Vembi. All three of the resident Fenturi seemed agitated, full of nervous energy.

Lately Ren’s eyes seemed to glow, a soft green that grew more brilliant when he burned with emotion.
Just like the twins, though their eyes were a bright blue. And their ski
n seemed luminescent at times too.
Though
Ren had begun undergoing these changes since meeting the twins, they’d grown more obvious since running into Dare.

Personally, Castor would have loved to have a Fenturi heritage.
He gave no credence to Bylaran law that outlawed the native race.
The Fenturi could run faster, had considerably more stamina and strength than a human, and typically had the good looks and sensuality inherent to their race that made mating an easy and pleasurable task at all times.

The twins knew a good thing and used it.
They never wanted for female companionship and were better than Bylaran gold in battle.
If you could get over that annoying habit they had of finishing each other’s sentences, you couldn’t ask for a better pair of warriors to stand with.

But Ren… The female would be his downfall or his salvation. She was devious, beautiful, and possessed the sensuality of her kind—an impossible temptation to a man constantly fighting an inner beast.
Castor knew she would drive Ren to distraction.

Something his friend dearly needed.

By the Dark World, Castor had been amazed by her attractiveness right off, and he was Bylaran.
He’d seen Ned and Nesh conferring when Ren had brought her on board, had seen the gleam of hunger in their eyes that they’d banked when Ren spoke with them.

But who could blame them?
Whereas the stubborn captain refused to fully accept his nature, the twins embraced theirs.
It had often been a long-standing joke that to defeat a Fenturi, one merely had to keep them from mating and the Fenturi would beg for surrender.

Castor understood why Ren had so readily agreed to the visit to Vembi.
He no doubt felt sexually frustrated and yet still angered over Dare’s deception.

Perhaps she could heal what years of Zedrax’s hate and fear had harmed.
Ren needed to understand what made him such an amazing warrior.
He needed a wake-up
—
to realize his Fenturi blood was not the evil taint Zedrax had accused it of being, but a gift from the Goddess.
A gift not unlike the attractive female healing on board.

“Shall I contact the king for you? So you can report that we captured the gorgeous, shifty little Mari?” Castor saw Ren’s thinly veiled control and tried not to smile. He could feel another
I told you so
coming to the fore.

“Fine.”

“Do you want to take the call in your quarters?”

“No.” Ren paused. “The Mari is in my adjoining chamber.” He bent to scribble something more in his journal.
Castor met the twins’ surprised look.

“Oh?” Castor asked knowing he shouldn’t have, but was unable to resist baiting Ren. “Are you sure she’s not warming your bed instead?”

“She can warm mine anytime,” the twins said as one.

“What?” Ren snapped.

“Nothing,” the Hams mumbled and returned to their station work.

“I find it curious you don’t put her in a prison cell,” Castor said, unable to stop pricking Ren’s temper.

“She’s important to the king, so I’m treating her as such.
The little Fenturi witch tries anything, though, and she’ll pay.” Ren stared through the forward portal, mostly likely seeing Dare, not the stars.

“I’m pretty sure she’s not fond of the pet name, Little Fenturi Witch. You might try calling her Dare.”

Ned coughed and Nesh bit his lip. Primo suddenly buried his face in star charts.

“Castor, you’re very, very close to being spaced.” Put out of an air lock into the cold death of space.

“Promises, promises,” Primo muttered.

“Do it. Then you’ll have to corral the Stalkers all on your own.”

“Bastard,” Ren mumbled.

Rolling his eyes at Ren’s stubbornness, he contacted the royal house.

“Vinopol Protocol One Five Seven,” a pleasing female voice answered.

“This is Castor Nizbe of the
Eyshan6
with a message for King Zebram, courtesy of his
brother
, Captain Garen,” Castor said in a booming voice.

“Oh, well. Hello, Castor. Greetings to Captain Garen,” the feminine voice warmed.
“Please stand by.”

Castor transferred the call to Ren’s station and waited for the inevitable fallout.

Beside him, Nesh whispered, “Fifty beks he and the Mari shack up before we leave Vembi.”

“I say they wait until we’re at Nexios.”

“You’re on.” Castor agreed with Nesh.

Then Primo wanted in on the action, and Castor recorded their bets while watching Ren talk to his brother, the king.

As usual, Ren cleared his face of any feeling and spoke into the headset like a well-trained soldier.

“Good to hear from you, finally,” Zebram said with enthusiasm.
“I heard our Legionnaires had a time of it with the Olm pirates on Kre. That can’t be true. You’re the best.”

Ren could almost see his brother cheering him on in the palace. He stifled a sigh.
If Zebram meant to be as hard a leader as Zedrax, he was going to have to curb his enthusiasm and remember to act more self-important.

“We successfully captured the Fenturi and are headed to Nexios, as you ordered.” Easier to pretend he followed a royal edict than bring Myla’s importance into it all.

“Yes, good.
I’ll tell Myla,” Zebram just had to say.
“But what is the Mari like?
Was he cooperative?
Does he know about his connection to the Thrax?
Give me some details.”

Details?
Now that he thought about it, Ren realized Dare looked very much like the archetype of the Fenturi female.
Why he hadn’t seen it until now he didn’t know.
H
er dark-hued hair and golden skin only accentuated the brightness of her eyes, the sensuality dormant in her full lips and generous curves.

“The Mari is a
she,
and she was anything but cooperative,” Ren admitted.

“A female?
Interesting. And you say she wasn’t willing to go with you?”

“Yes.
Look,
I’ll introduce her to you myself when we arrive home.
But first, we’re going to Nexios to meet Methan.
Hopefully we’ll find what we’re looking for there, or at least get a clue of where to start looking.”

Zebram agreed.
“Good. The sooner you get there, the better.
I’m getting more reports of the Horde around the Outworlds.
Supposedly, two Ragil scout ships have been spotted lingering uncomfortably close to Ocaia.”

“That close?” Ren asked, disturbed.

“Yes.
Do what you can to speed things up.
I don’t suppose I could talk to her? The Mari?” Zebram still sounded like a child obsessed with all things Fenturi. But unlike his older brother, he’d been coddled and indulged with care.

“You could if she were able to talk.
She had a slight accident on Kre and is healing as we speak.”

“What? But she—”

“
My king
, the woman is fine.
She just needs some time to heal, so we’re taking an extra day to reach Nexios.”

“Fine.
But protect her with your life, Garen.” Zebram speak with a commanding voice, sounding for the first time, very much the king he was.

“Aye, my lord. We’ll keep in touch.” Ren ended the connection.

He thought for a moment before he glanced up.
“Men, as soon as we leave Vembi we’re going to be extremely busy.
P
ack in as much enjoyment as you can stand into a short time.
With Primo’s direction, we should make it to Vembi within six hours.
I give us a day before we leave for Nexios.”

The men nodded, and Castor asked,
“How go rumors of the Horde?”

“Not good.
Apparently they’re openly scouting near Ocaia now.”

Castor frowned.
“That’s not good at all.
” He opened his mouth as if to say something more, then closed it. “We’ll do what needs to be done.”

“I know.” And he did. Ren trusted Castor like no other. Castor knew him, sometimes better than Ren knew himself. “Oh, and men, stay
clear of the green room above deck.
The cat has made it hers for the time being.”

Just like Dare has made everything she touches hers. And if I’m not careful, I’ll be next.

***

Dare slowly opened her eyes, still dazed.
She stared up at an enclosed ceiling. By the sound and feel of things, she lay in a ship.

She opened her senses but didn’t smell anything familiar.
Groaning
when she opened her eyes wider, she flinched at the dim light and blinked to clear her vision.

She looked around and saw nothing but cream-colored walls and a dark flooring.
The large bed in which she lay felt comfortable despite its utilitarian design and sat flush against a wall.
Opposite the bed she noticed a storage door.
An entryway appeared next to the storage door and was flanked by a small desk and chair.

  Under the covers, she found herself garbed in a soft, flowing robe made of Nexian silk.
Had a Nexian rescued her on Kre?
That didn’t seem right. She recalled her crew, the pirates, and… Hels. Legionnaires. She
looked around the room again.
No Nexian would allow such a cold, uninteresting room aboard a ship.

Slowly, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor, not surprised to see them bare.

She sat on the bed, for the life of her not understanding what had happened since she’d passed out. When suddenly the door next to the desk opened.

She swallowed a lump in her throat as Ren stood before her. He crossed his arms and looked her over.
His tall frame filled the doorway, and the unforgiving planes of his face made him appear more the pirate than lawman.

She took in the sleeveless tunic that left his thick, muscular arms bare to scrutiny.

Unlike herself, she saw several wounds still healing on his upper body.
Though small, they must have been painful if caused by Olm blades.
She continued to look him over before their gazes met. His amusement made her blush. The bastard.

“Would you perhaps like me to turn around for a better view?” he asked dryly.

“Where am I?” Dare refused to give in to the urge to scoot back on the bed and tuck herself into a small ball when he neared.