Page 7 of A Mate for Vasek (Tallean Mercenaries #11)

Dawn

Dawn woke to soft cursing and was instantly on alert. An ornately decorated ceiling greeted her. Was she back in Kotch’s room? The design was different though; there was a lot less gold paint. And the sheets and blanket were so much softer!

Sheets? Oh no! She’d fallen asleep on the bed! She wasn’t supposed to do that. Maybe she’d be able to sneak back down to her mat before he woke.

That was when Dawn realized she wasn’t in Kotch’s room at all. She wasn’t even in the same port.

Kotch was dead, and had been for days. She wasn’t even with Bakum anymore. She was on Vasek’s shuttle. She’d been living off of sheer will and adrenaline for so long that she’d crashed hard the second her head had hit the pillow.

The shuttle no longer hummed, which meant they’d landed. They must still be on New Rhea. Perhaps the other port? How long had she slept? She felt a lot better. Whatever medication Vasek had given her earlier was working like a charm.

Another softly muttered curse drew her attention to Vasek. He was sitting at the table, head bent, concentrating on something. He had something on his face that reminded her of those glasses jewelers use to look at gems, but not quite. This one wrapped around his face at the sides.

And he wasn’t looking at the gems; those were in two neat little piles in the corner of the table. So what was he doing?

Curious, Dawn got up for a better look, almost expecting the Tallean to turn around and catch her snooping, but he was completely engrossed in his work. He didn’t even notice her taking the few steps to the table.

Dawn’s jaw dropped at what she saw. Instead of skin and flesh, there was metal and composite where Vasek’s forearm should be.

She recalled the robotic arms in his cabinet and was suddenly reminded of Morad and his bionically enhanced eye.

Vasek must be the doctor who’d installed that for him!

It made sense now that he’d agree to follow some rule about not attacking someone while they were in Vasek’s care.

Morad rarely followed rules unless they were beneficial to him.

There was a crumpled mess of artificial skin in a tray next to him.

He was struggling to get a new sheet in place because one corner kept popping up.

He swore again. And it was only now that Dawn realized the word was muffled because he was holding a tool in his mouth.

It must be difficult to operate with only one hand.

Vasek suddenly froze, still as a statue. When he finally moved, it was to look at Dawn. Did he look embarrassed? Awkward?

He released the artificial skin and tapped something on the side of the goggles before saying, “I lost it years ago.”

“Would you like me to help you?” she asked. Then, not wanting him to think that she thought him incapable, she added, “I’m sure you can do it yourself, but—”

“It’s easier with another hand,” he finished for her.

He tilted his chin to the bottle of sanitizing liquid.

Dawn recognized it because she’d had to use that before and hated the stuff, but it was probably a mainstay when it came to his profession.

“Clean your hands,” he said. “You can hold it in place while I make the first few attachments.”

Dawn wasn’t sure how she’d feel if this was a flesh-and-bone arm, but the way it was now, mostly robotic with just the slight hint of flesh showing, she found she didn’t feel queasy at all.

She was also surprised when she realized how warm the arm was.

But she guessed it made sense since it was still attached to his upper arm and would be warmed by his body heat.

Not to mention, when he touched her earlier, it had felt extremely alive.

She would never have guessed it was robotic at all.

Following his instructions, she held the skin-like sheet over the exposed hardware.

It was already cut to shape, and one side was slightly thicker than the other.

No wonder he had to get it to just the right position.

The tool he had been holding in his mouth was some sort of tiny, tiny stapler.

Instead of staples, it used something skin-toned and flexible.

Dawn watched as he attached a single point of the new skin to his arm, making several stitches in one place before moving to the next area.

The process was laborious and intimate. She was acutely aware of how close they were.

Eventually, he’d stitched the entire sheet in place at regular intervals, but there were still gaps in between the stitches, and the adhesions at the stitches themselves weren’t particularly smooth. He brought out a handheld device and ran it over the area.

Dawn gasped as the artificial skin seemed to soften up, molding itself to his arm.

Vasek then used his other hand to smooth it down, using so much pressure that Dawn worried he’d break the whole thing.

He repeated the procedure several more times until he was satisfied.

Then he held his arm up and wiggled all his fingers.

Still in awe, Dawn reached for his arm. It looked nearly identical to the other arm, and moved very realistically too.

If she hadn’t just seen what was behind the skin, she’d never have guessed Vasek had a robotic arm.

Did that make him a cyborg alien? How many bioenhancements were required for that classification? How many more did Vasek have?

As if he read her mind, the big Tallean cleared his throat, the action so human-like it was uncanny. “It’s the only part of me that is… uh, enhanced. Everything else is real. All the parts that matter anyway.”

Dawn’s brain immediately went were it shouldn’t, remembering how hard he’d felt under her ass when they’d been trapped together on takeoff.

She’d reacted to their nearness, and he’d reacted to her.

But then when he’d nuzzled her neck, it had confused her.

Nuzzling was strictly forbidden. It was the Tallean version of kissing, and it wasn’t done with someone like her.

Of course, that didn’t mean it was never done with slaves.

But none of the long line of owners had done it to her, not even Kotch, who had her for much longer than any of the others.

It was rumored that nuzzling could trigger mate bonds between Talleans and humans, and no one wanted to be mate-bonded to a slave, much less a human one.

Dawn had known some women who actively tried to get a Tallean to bond with them. It usually led to a much better life. A mate was like a wife, and some Tallean males almost acted like they loved the females they bonded to.

But that wasn’t something Dawn was interested in. She didn’t want a pampered life out here. She wanted to go home to Earth.

So when Vasek had nuzzled her, it had thrown her for a loop. And she couldn’t forget the confusing way her body had reacted to him either. That was totally unacceptable.

And then he’d practically dumped her on the shuttle floor. You’d think she was poison from how fast he’d gotten them out of that harness. She didn’t understand why she was so disappointed. She shouldn’t be lusting after him anyway. He was a Tallean.

Maybe for a moment Vasek forgot that she was human, just like she’d forgotten that he was the enemy.

Enemy or not, most Tallean bodies were easy on the eyes, the men and women alike.

Tall, thin, and lithe, Tallean women would be right at home on the runway.

The men tended to put on muscle easily, and just a little work was enough to give them bodybuilder physiques.

Still, Dawn had seen several less-than-ideal Talleans, and she’d wondered whether it had been cases of unfortunate genetics or extreme neglect.

Vasek wasn’t super built like Morad, who was the poster boy for ‘roids gone wrong.

Nor was he a little overweight like Kotch.

Instead, the medic was lean and toned, with the perfect amount of muscle definition.

Considering his less physically demanding profession, Dawn wondered if he took time to work out to maintain his physique.

That had the image of Vasek, muscles flexed and sweating at the gym, skating unbidden across her mind. And she already knew he was big everywhere.

She squeezed her legs together surreptitiously, hoping Vasek couldn’t smell her arousal this time, but she was standing so close and she knew better. But if he did notice her interest, he hid it well this time.

Did he not detect her scent? Maybe he had a stuffy nose.

“Thank you,” he said in his warm, deep baritone. “That made it easier.”

“It is my pleasure to serve.” And for once, the well-rehearsed words spilling from her lips weren’t completely bollocks.

Vasek frowned. “You don’t need to follow any protocols with me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I do not keep intelligent lives.” Then, as if the topic made him uncomfortable, he got up from the table and went to the navigational panel.

So did that mean Dawn was the first “intelligent life” thrust into his care?

That was good, right? It could mean he was against slavery and would free her.

Or did it mean he didn’t want to spend the credits and would drop her off at the first auction house they came across?

She hoped it was the first option and that he’d treat her like a companion instead. She wouldn’t mind that.

This was the first good news since Bakum had kidnapped her into the wilds and dashed any hope of her participating in the big escape that several of the humans she knew had been plotting for months.

She just had to convince Vasek that she was worth keeping around. That way, she’d have plenty of freedom and be ready if there was another big escape back to Earth.

The interior of the shuttle was suddenly flooded with natural light as the front view screen turned transparent.

They must still be somewhere on New Rhea, because outside was the most beautiful sunset.

New Rhea had two suns, with one traveling just ahead of the other throughout the day.

During the summers, the two suns were relatively close together and stayed in the sky for longer, making it blisteringly hot when both were high in the sky.

In the winter, they traveled farther from each other, with the first and second sunrises being almost two hours apart.

But winter wasn’t particularly cold on this part of the planet.

The rainy season had just passed, which Dawn always thought of as spring, since the weather often grew hot after the rains, and the suns were starting to come together again.

Currently, one of the suns was just above the horizon, and the other was a bit above it.

The pinks, purples, and oranges that filled the screen were so beautiful she couldn’t help but just stand and watch.

Vasek turned and glanced outside as well. “We are at one of my hideouts outside Port Number Two.”

No wonder they’d arrived so quickly. He’d said this was one of his hideouts; did that mean he had more than one?

And hideout meant this was not his home.

Was he hiding out because of what had happened with Bakum and Morad?

It was probably a good idea, especially since they’d be coming after her once Morad realized she wasn’t with Kotch’s killer anymore.

Would they find their ship here? The side of the view screen showed jagged rock walls, and it looked like they were backed into a cave with a giant opening.

It didn’t hide the gorgeous orange and pink sunset from streaming into the shuttle, but the rocks above would hopefully hide them from any scanning devices.

Except Kotch’s old crew wouldn’t be using any scanning devices from the air. They’d come on foot and on personal hover vehicles to search the forest the old-fashioned way, and the shuttle was a sitting duck against that. The only thing she could do was hope they wouldn’t find her.

Her eyes went to the mess left at the table, and out of habit, she started cleaning up.