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“And do what?” Taraven blurts out.
I give him a look and take him by the arm. “Uh…don’t mind him,” I say. “Bye!”
I haul him out to the spine, where the door weaves shut behind us. I mutter a thanks to Jaya for at least giving us some privacy before I turn to Taraven, still holding his arm.
“Hey,” I say. “I don’t think he means anything by it. Try not to be offended.”
Taraven frowns. “Offended?”
“Like by how he dismissed us?” I say. “You like him, right?”
Taraven’s eyes narrow as he puzzles over it, his brow furrowing. “I hardly know him.”
“I don’t mean like that,” I say. Damn it—translators don’t always do the trick, do they? “I meanlikehim. Have feelings for him. Want to…” I make a ring out of one of my hands and jab my index finger through it with the other. “You know.”
Taraven watches me in confusion for a second more, then barks out a laugh. “I like many people, Frankie.”
The way he says it makes something roil in the pit of my stomach. The sensation is fucking delicious—warm, liquid heat flooding from my groin to my chest. I gulp it down like it’s going to do a damn thing, biting down hard on my lip.
Okay…maybe Taraven is just an alien slut and I’m reading this all wrong.
“Never mind,” I say, plastering on a smile. “I’ll see you for our usual sparring session tomorrow morning, okay? Gotta get you in tip-top shape now that we’re making this war official.”
“Right,” he says, grinning. “Good night, Frankie.”
I smile back. “Good night.”
CHAPTER SIX
??
TARAVEN
The first sign of one’sekirah—our “divine balance”—is strange dreams.
I do not know if these dreams are strange, or just sensual. I’ve had sex dreams enough times that I know what’s normal and what isn’t, and I must admit that this is not normal. These are…spiritual, almost. Spiritual in a way sex has never been for me, as I’ve done that deed with numerous individuals on this ship and off.
I walk into a grove of bright pink flowers, vines climbing the walls and a statue on the opposite wall. The statue depicts our Divine, the two-faced and two-bodied creature that creates perfect symmetry in oneself. I hear sounds coming from the altar, and I find myself climbing through a hole in the wall to find the source.
Frankie and Malix are wrapped in one another, hands sliding over skin and limbs entwined. I cock my head at them as I watch them make love—as Malix slides his large cock, so different from my own, against Frankie’s opening; as Frankie clutches at Malix’s back and runs her tongue over his fringe. Her honey brown eyes dart to mine, half-lidded with arousal, and she crooks a finger at me to join them.
I wake to the sound ofzephtancalls in the dark, the keening wail of multiplezephtanjoining in unison. I lie in my nest for a moment, grappling around to find if I was actually with Frankie and Malix after all, or if I fell into bed with some other member of our crew.
There’s no one.
I sit up straight and my head sears with pain, forcing me to pull my hand up to massage my temple. I groan and shift in my nest, the space strangely empty—as it so rarely is—and exceptionally cold. I need to plant more flowers to generate heat in the room, otherwise there’s a chance I could freeze to death.
This is all wrong.
Since the destruction of Rath—perhaps even since Frankie came aboard—everything has felt wrong.
I feel off-balance.
I get to my feet slowly, swaying as I crouch and then get upright. My tail keeps me steady, thudding behind me to keep me on my feet. I groan and rub my eyes again as the room sways.
Is the ship trying to get me drunk?
It’s possible; in the past, when Jaya got involved in our lives, she has been known to release endorphin-generating chemicals into the ship. I’ve tried training her not to—and I frequently remove hallucinogenic material from the samples our crew brings aboard—but there’s always a chance something slipped through. I don’t think this was the result of Jaya’s meddling though, it’s just that I was having strange dreams.
