Page 16 of Defiance (The Intersolar Union #7)

The chrome floors in Novak’s quarters were excellent for manic pacing. Unlike on dirt or stone or carpet, his endless loop would remain invisible. The whiplash of his tail, however, had left scratches in the walls like a weedwacker.

He’d indulged in the habit nearly every waking moment in his own quarters, Charlie’s magenta glow seeping through the seams in the door and invading through the vents like poisonous gas. His only saving grace was that for the past week, they’d barely seen each other.

It wasn’t because she’d holed up in her quarters. Oh no. It’s because Xata had kept him so fucking busy. She’d caught him stalking Charlie’s chemia trail on the second night, hopping from one shadow to the next on his way to the commissary like a lunatic. Xata had closed the bulkhead and trapped him in the hallway with a cackle over the ship’s PA system. He’d completely forgotten himself and where he was, lashing at the doors with enough force to dent them.

After that, Xata dragged him to the gym. Every demerit her crew earned that week was solved in a spar with Novak, and the mostly female crew was rowdier than a gang of pirates. They fought dirty and liked it that way, pulling his ears, ganging up on his tail for a bout of tug-of-war. The arms master even tossed Charlie’s discarded cup at him once in the hopes of distracting him long enough to pluck one of his plumes as a trophy. If they ever took shore leave on Huajile, they’d end up running their own racketeering empire.

Xata’s antics were unpredictable but effective. While he was fighting, the Hunt lessened in intensity, sharing space in his lizard brain with blood and pain. The gym was humid, filled with pheromonal scents that agitated his colear?. When he was in there, he could hardly see a speck of Charlie’s chemia, so overwhelmed by the dozens of other bodies all looking for a fight.

At least the shilpakaari smelled like ocean brine and syrup when they worked themselves up. Venandi exertion smelled like crickets and tree bark.

Xata tsked, laying propped up on her elbows on his bed with her boots on his sheets.

“If my entire crew isn’t enough to tame your wild urges, poor Charlie won’t survive, you know.”

Novak snapped his tail tip at her boots. It broke the sound barrier just like a whip, cracking the air and leaving a scorched tear in the sheets. The commander raised a brow, unimpressed.

“What’s taking her so long?”

“Human things, how should I know?”

Novak stopped abruptly, the tip of his snout an inch from the door. He grew deathly still, ears homed in on the quarters across the hall. He needed to see her. He hadn’t seen her in two days. Just her detritus. A few curly strands of copper silk. Her meal trash in the bin. The primer she’d left behind one late night in the crew lounge. Xata glanced through it now as Novak watched her sideways.

“Don’t touch it,”

he snarled, plume mail shivering down his tail in warning.

Xata held the plasdocs aloft, staring down her chest at him.

“What, this old thing?”

She wriggled it like a prize, muddying up the scent of Charlie’s finger oils in the curled corners.

“Bent to hell. We should print her a new one. Hey, you think she’s memorized it?”

Novak snatched it back, baring his teeth.

“You know why I have it, stop cutting me off!”

Xata sat up and lifted her two-thumbed hands in surrender as her gaze darkened.

“You could just walk across the hallway, you know. She’d give you something if you asked.”

Novak was staring at the door again, starving for any grain of sound or scent. He wavered, mouth full of venom, their stems throbbing in a straight line down his spine to his cock. He pressed up on his sacs with his tongue, swallowing as much of it as he could stomach without feeling tipsy.

“The separation has been good for me,”

he rumbled, tempering the desperation. It came and went, mostly when there was room for obsession to niggle its way back in.

“It’s not a real Hunt and I can’t let myself think it is. I’ll be calmer when she’s in my eyeline where she—”

He swallowed, then ploughed on.

“Where she belongs. She’s given me plenty to get by.”

He chucked his chin at the little bag of her things. Ties for her silk, a toothbrush, a hand towel from her kitchen… The cracked meter on an old, salt-encrusted velcro band and the worn shirt were his favorites. He’d slept with them to keep himself from going insane.

“You don’t have to ration her, you idiot.”

Xata tossed the primer into his bag and got to her feet.

Charlie’s bloody dress and ankles flashed in his mind.

“I can’t indulge either.”

Novak exhaled, loosening up his spine as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the door. His ears flattened against it, tickled by the subtle hum of the ship.

“Thanks for not making it worse.”

Xata glanced up at him thoughtfully.

“Yeah, well. We all deserve a chance at something good.”

Her holotab pinged and Novak’s ear twitched. She purred under her breath, tendrils spiraling with appreciation.

“Our envoy is waiting on the dock like a good boy. La?we Sath.”

Novak turned away from the door, grateful for the distraction.

“The name isn’t familiar.”

Xata pulled up the hjarna’s dossier and clicked her dental ridges together.

“Would you look at that? HIXBS’s shiniest little squish. Easy on the eyes too.”

She tossed the screen at Novak’s bionic and the information scrolled over his vision. La?we Sath was a rising star with several media appointments, all centered around protected species topics. He’d spent six orbits going back and forth between Helion and Byd Farrwel, the yiwreni homeworld. He had one credit loan that funded his initial move to Helion, but a large savings cache, and two modest home units. He traveled to and from Piaoguo on a regular basis, and took a local course on interspecies meal preparation. His last physical exam had been centered around obtaining spawning credentials, which he’d passed.

A knock came at Novak’s door and he spun back around, heart in his throat. Delicate knuckles tapped the metal rather than ping the access panel.

“Agent Gaul?”

Charlie called through the door.

Novak stepped towards the access panel in a rush, then came to an abrupt halt. His ears twitched. His nose twitched. His tail twitched. Everything twitched.

“I just, ah…”

Charlie cleared her throat and spoke a little louder.

“I know we’ve docked. I’m ready to go anytime.”

“Thank fuck,”

Xata sighed, pressing the access panel. The door whooshed open and there was Charlie, her chemia engulfing him like holy incense. It rolled through the hallway and off her skin in glittering clouds that instantly soothed his plumes and his tail. His colear? expanded and relaxed on the bridge of his nose.

Charlie gave him a thin-lipped smile while all he could manage was an unnerving staring contest, then her expression brightened as she craned her neck to see around his shoulder.

“Siat! Glad you’re here.”

Charlie brushed her shoulder against Novak’s elbow, sliding into the room. She held out a collection of plasdocs and Xata took them slowly with a piqued expression.

“Drawings for my food bay?”

she teased.

“You shouldn’t have.”

Charlie grimaced, but there was no animosity in her scent. Novak’s tail slithered out into the hallway to wrap around the straps of Charlie’s bag while they talked.

“It’s a proposal. Pure shite since I put it together in a week, but…”

She cleared her throat.

“Not like I had anything else to do.”

Xata leafed through the plas sheets, a crease in her brow. Her intensity strengthened, eyes flying over the words.

“How’d you come up with this?”

Charlie shrugged.

“I’ve been volunteering in the medbay with Pom Pom and thought maybe there’s something to that. Like museums with touch tanks and lumber companies that plant trees…”

She glanced nervously between Xata and Novak, then planted her hands on her hips.

“Humans do this sort of thing a lot. We’re tribal and not very good at seeing the humanity in others sometimes. Maybe it’s offensive, though. I don’t know. People aren’t really my specialty.”

Novak drew up Charlie’s bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“A senescence outreach study.”

Xata slid the docs into her uniform jacket before Novak could ask for details.

“I’ll look into it.”

The commander offered Charlie her hand in a human handshake and they clasped palms.

“In the meantime, try not to blow it?”

She looked pointedly at Novak, who grinned dangerously. Now that Charlie was in his space, his desperation had cooled into possessive vigilance.

“Yes, sir.”

The cocksure set of his ears didn’t fool her anymore than he fooled himself.