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Tyelu strode down the hallway, admiring the sleek, sophisticated lines of the Domorian architecture in an attempt to quell her irritation. Kraden meeting had barely gotten past the greeting phase when the Domorian in charge had called for a short break.

Time to change the guards anyway. Sigun had opted to attend the meetings himself. Given that he, as tyrl, headed the power structure on Abyw, the Council of Kafhs thought he should have a rotating force of guards, and had then pulled together a quasi-guard force from their own children and heirs.

As if any Pruxn? worthy of the name needed such protection.

Tyelu shook her head on a sigh. She’d needed to get off Abyw for a while. It was better than watching her brother Ryn and his mate Ziri cement their relationship, daily reminding Tyelu of her own failure in matters of the heart.

She’d tried, hadn’t she? Tyelu flexed her fingers, easing some of the useless emotions roiling around in her gut. She’d tried to find a mate, scoured Abyw in the doing. A wasted effort. No one had truly caught her fancy.

Her heart clenched as eyes the color of the River Mikto popped into her mind. One man had caught her fancy, but not on Abyw, and not a man suitable to be her mate. What would a spacer like Jos Q’Mhel know of love?

Tyelu stopped in the middle of the corridor and glanced around. Her preoccupation had caused her to miss the lift to her level, and thoughts of him had swept her purpose right out of her head.

None of which would’ve happened if her father hadn’t sent her here.

Cursing under her breath, she pivoted sharply on a booted heel and retraced her steps, found the appropriate lift, and stepped inside. Her father had his reasons, the prime one having to do with his desire to retire soon from his position as the kafh of Myunad Province. She was one of the natural choices to take his place, and not only because she was his daughter. Her time with the elite Queen’s Guard on her mother’s homeworld had taught her much about leadership and strategy, two qualities she could put to good use as a kafh.

The question was, did she truly want that responsibility?

Some would say that she, as a rare Abyw-born woman, was too precious a resource to risk in such a position.

Tyelu did not agree. Pruxn? women were bred for strength, or stolen because of it, as her mother had been, in the hopes of begetting children sturdy enough to endure the harsh Abywian climate.

The Q’Mhel would breed strong children.

She ignored the heat gathering in her loins and stepped out onto her level, right in front of her cousin Kodh ab Urga. Kodh, like many Pruxn? men, stood tall and proud, his burly strength evident beneath the tight-fitting uniform he wore. His dark blonde hair hung loose around his shoulders, save for two thin braids dangling from his temple.

He stared down at her past the slight bump in his thin nose. “Running late for your next shopping trip?”

Tyelu made a half-hearted effort to control an automatic snarl. Her father would caution patience, her mother wisdom.

Tyelu wanted to rip him apart. Kodh had goaded and poked at her since they were children, more so since her return from her duty on Banam in the Queen’s Guard. Being an adult hadn’t changed his abrasive nature, merely the tactics he employed and the motivation behind his behavior. It was common knowledge that Kodh, as the son of Gared’s eldest brother, coveted the position his uncle held over Myunad Provence. For some reason, he’d gotten it into his head that he was the better candidate to replace Tyelu’s father.

But it wasn’t up to Kodh. It was up to Gared, and he welcomed all interested parties, and a few reluctant ones as well.

Tyelu allowed her lips to curl into a disdainful smile. “Run along, Kodh. I haven’t the time to babysit you.”

She turned and walked away, proffering the insult of an unguarded back. Let him goad and poke. What did she care?

“One day, cousin,” he said softly.

Tyelu sniffed. The implied threat merited neither comment nor action.

She continued down the hallway, basking in the soft light shining through the windows lining the corridor’s curved outer wall. Outside, the day seemed bright and inviting. Forro, the host city, spread out across the coastal plain. White buildings decorated with long ribbons of greenery merged into sandy beaches abutting the nearly purple waters of Domor’s sole ocean.

Tyelu paused outside her door, admiring the view. It had all the appearances of paradise. Such a beautiful, peaceful world had birthed the Domorians, an alien species known for their calm temperaments and diplomatic demeanors.

Had Abyw’s harsher clime been responsible for her own barbed personality, the restlessness she’d felt even as a child?

She shook her head. No. The Pruxn? were generally a warm, genial population. Quick to laugh, slow to anger, and nonetheless fiercely protective. Defenders, yes, but outside of the times when they were forced to seek mates off world, they did not instigate trouble.

Generally being the key word.

A flock of tiny, winged creatures flew by beyond the windowed wall. Tyelu followed their path through the crisply clear sky until they disappeared, then palmed her door open and stepped inside.

Lights rose gently, illuminating the living area and a man wearing the matte armor of a Q-merc standing at the far window with his back to her.

Tyelu closed the door, scowling. “How did you get in here?”

“Trade secret,” Jos said without turning around. “From here, you have an excellent view of the entrance to the diplomatic section and the gardens where the diplomats prefer to gather.”

That’s why she’d chosen this room, though that was her own trade secret.

“It’s a lovely room,” she said in a tone her brother would recognize as a shade too calm. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s obvious,” Jos replied. “I wanted to see you.”

“You saw me earlier, at the opening rounds.”

“In private.”

“Then you could have asked me to join you elsewhere.”

“But elsewhere doesn’t give me insight into your character and personality.”

What could he possibly learn about her from a room she would occupy for such a short time? “Do you ever take that armor off?”

As soon as the question popped out of her mouth, Tyelu wished it hadn’t. Think before you speak . Or at least control the temper behind her words.

Jos half-turned toward her, just enough for her to catch his faint smile. “Not while I’m on duty.”

His statement aroused genuine curiosity. The Q were such a mysterious people that they hid the location of their homeworld from outsiders. Getting to it, applying for training with them, were incredibly difficult tasks, possibly by design. Their mercenary-soldiers were elite units, some of the best-trained in this section of the galaxy. Even the Queen’s Guard couldn’t match them.

Tyelu strode across the room and sank into an oddly shaped couch the color of Domor’s sandy beaches. “Are you ever off duty?”

“Are you asking because you’re curious about the Q or because you want to spend time with me?”

Her heart leapt at the question, and she bit her tongue. “Are all Q’Mhel’s as forward as you?”

He smile stretched into a flirtatious grin. “You don’t have to worry about other Q’Mhels, princess.”

“I am not a princess,” she said, a dangerous edge underscoring the flat statement.

“It’s all in the attitude.” He turned fully forward, facing her. “Invite me to sit with you.”

“Why would I offer hospitality to an intruder?”

“Because this intruder saved your brother from a Sweeper.”

Tyelu huffed out a breath. The arrival of Jos’s dal on Yarinska had been timely, true. But how had he known her brother was on the ship?

“I can see your mind working,” Jos murmured. “Invite me to sit with you.”

She swept a hand to the other seating unit. “You’re free to sit if you wish.”

“Not there. Next to you.”

She huffed out another breath, this one accompanied by a short laugh. “What’s the difference?”

In two strides, he’d crossed the room to stand over her, not quite menacing, though his smile had slid away. “The difference, princess, is that from here, I can smell that subtle perfume you’re wearing, feel the warmth of your skin, hear the soft murmur of your heart.”

That heart tripped into a heady rhythm at his nearness, and her skin flushed. She curled her hand into a fist to keep it in her lap. “You demand much, for an uninvited guest.”

“But not an unwelcome one.” He leaned near and slid an armored fingertip down her nose. “Beautiful. Prickly. Intriguing.”

The armor had been as warm as her skin, not the cold, impersonal alloy she’d expected. It startled her into a flirtatious, “Me or the yinga?”

He laughed and drew away. “Both. Have sex with me.”

The question halted the warm arousal growing in her gut as effectively as stepping into an Abywian winter. “I don’t have casual sex with strangers.”

“Who said anything about casual? I was hoping for a temporary alliance. Mutually beneficial.”

Her eyes narrowed and a spark of temper flared. “In other words, casual sex.”

He leaned over her again, putting their faces inches apart. “Fascinating. Do your eyes always brighten when you’re angry?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she bit out. “Are you finished insulting me?”

He cupped her face in his hand. “Never would I insult you, Tyelu af Alna.”

His lips brushed across her forehead, then he stepped back and, on some cue she couldn’t discern, disappeared.

Tyelu sucked in a shaky breath and slumped into the couch. No wonder his eyes haunted her. How could she forget a man such as him? Insolent, overbearing Q’Mhel.

Unaccountably, she smiled.

Jos popped into norm space in the transport deck of Apedemak , a cruiser outfitted specifically for the small, strategic missions carried out by independent dals. The crews of such ships had their own command structure within the Q’s mercenary-soldier force, but when on missions, the captain answered to the dal’s Q’Mhel.

For all intents and purposes, this was Jos’s ship. So long as he bore the title of Q’Mhel, he could use it as he pleased.

Of course, he thought wryly, if he used Apedemak for anything other than official Q business, he’d be stripped of the Q’Mhel title, ousted from the Q-mercs, and possibly kicked off world by his family. Even his grandmother, the current taq, and his uncle, the High Commander of Q Command, couldn’t save him from his parents’ wrath.

The captain waited on the ship’s transport deck, behind the crew member manning it. Gage Coppev was a slender man in his mid-thirties with a keen duty to service stamped into his sharp features. He ran an efficient ship, did Coppev. Jos had never had cause to complain, and even considered the other man a friend.

Jos retracted his helmet. “You have a report, Captain?”

Coppev stepped forward and smiled grimly. “Our sweeps indicate a nest of Sweeper ships skirting the edges of this system. One parent ship, three child ships, by the size of them.”

Jos’s mouth tightened. “Any indications that they’re headed toward us.”

“Negative.” Coppev hesitated, then added, “Our scans of local communications indicate no chatter between other ships or the Domorians regarding the nest.”

“Surely others are doing sweeps. That’s the entire reason for the summit.”

“Others aren’t as paranoid as the Q.”

Jos grunted at that. He suspected Tyelu was, judging by the wariness in her expression when he’d propositioned her. “Send an alert. Carefully worded. We don’t want to start a panic.”

Coppev nodded once. “How’re the negotiations going?”

“I’ll let you know when we get past the meet and greet.”

“Ah, the Domorians. Ever patient in their diplomacy.”

“Laugh all you want. You’re not the one standing guard while some twenty seasoned diplomats exchange pleasantries.”

“It’s not our usual duty,” Coppev agreed mildly. “Rumor has it we’re here for another reason.”

Jos glanced at the crew member studiously gazing at the transport display, as if his captain and his Q’Mhel weren’t venturing into private territory.

“Duty takes many forms,” Jos replied, just as mildly.

“Aye,” Coppev said, his eyes sparkling. “It does.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing pressing.”

“Back to guard duty, then. Let me know if those Sweepers change course.”

“Will do.”

Coppev stepped back. Jos triggered his helmet and transported himself planetside.