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She trots inside, and I lock the door behind us.
Nisina proceeds to continue sniffing, focusing on my luggage and the bed where my scent is the most concentrated. And when she’s satisfied with her olfactory investigation, she simply looks up at me expectantly. Does this dog think that I have a mission for her to complete?
I sit down on the bed and pat the soft coverlet.
“Come join me, pretty girl,” I coo at her.
She needs no further invitation, climbing on top of me with her tail wagging. We settle in together, and while I don’t think sleep will come soon, it’s a comfortable arrangement.
If he pisses me off tomorrow, I think gleefully, I’ll just steal his dog.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MAK
I wake up with a foggy mind and my palm sweaty on the handle of my ikani. This old blade stays where I sleep, while my stinger and my modern ikani rest neatly on my bedside table. I should probably learn to sleep without it, but it’s one habit from younger days I can’t seem to break. Some little boys grow up clutching a stuffed kaia or model spaceships; I hugged daggers to my chest to soothe the nightmares away.
These days, it’s less and less likely that a murderer could or would appear in my bedroom, but the reflex persists.
Before I even have time to collect myself, Viro sweeps into my room without announcing himself.
“You know, this could be between your eyes if you sneak up on me in the wrong moment,” I tell him.
“Nah, I’d dodge it.” He squints hard at me. “Did you sleep alright?”
Do I look haggard? I glance over my shoulder at the mirror.
“I had a strange dream,” I admit. “But that’s all.”
“Good or bad one?”
I snort, sheathing the ancient blade and tucking it under the pillow where it belongs. “They’re all the same these days. I see her everywhere, and yet I can’t touch her.”
When she first started haunting my dreams, I would always reach for her, and she’d fade away as soon as I was close enough. This time, I thought I was awakened by an assassin, only to find it was her neck ready to meet my blade.
“Huh, what a coincidence. Because your mate joined us while you slept,” Viro tells me, swallowing a yawn. “Along with Kalla and Kaye. With Kalla’s ship, they were able to dock without putting us off schedule.”
“Good,” I say, though my nerves have me quaking. “Any clue what I should expect?”
He shrugs. “All I know is that she’s requested to see you.”
“Then I’d better get going.” I don’t bother hiding the excitement shivering through me at the prospect of meeting with her.
I hesitate, patting myself down in confusion.
“What am I forgetting...?” I turn in a circle. “Oh. Where’s Nisina?”
“With your mate,” he reports. “Ruka heard from the guard on duty that the kaia slept in her room. That beast is always two steps ahead of you, hm?”
“Get your rest already,” I say, relieved by the thought of Nisi and Frankie together. “But before you do, drop by Kalla’s to tell our newest guests that I’ll be in the captain’s den for the rest of the day. I’ll await my mate there for whatever she wishes to discuss with me.”
When he’s gone, I fret over preparing myself for the day. I’ve never thought much of what I grabbed from the closet. Many of my best garments are reserved for addressing the public, but I usually don’t bother with them when I’m on Makiva’s Revenge. From what little I know of her, I try to decide whether she’d prefer the flamboyant and flattering costumes I adorn myself with to play the part of a great king. Or would that turn her off? Should I be the warrior instead, dressed in the same armored airseals that my crew wears? Neither of these are what I’d choose on a typical day of travel in my own quarters, so would it be better to act as though nothing about today is different?
No, I decide, grabbing for a loose tunic Lalo wove for me years back. If you act like a pompous king or an imperious captain, you’ll spook her.
I pause halfway through lacing the front closed. I’m still a handsome male, after all. I’m not above subliminal messaging. The ties hang undone, and I curse myself for vanity before I leave my quarters.
The captain’s den of Makiva’s Revenge sits adjacent to the bridge, a wedge-shaped room where the smaller end consists of a curved window that overlooks the docking zone. From here, I can see the comings and goings and easily check in with the pilot and bridge crew if necessary. It functions as my office when we’re traveling. The docking zone plays host to a few of the larger ships in the fleet, but it still looks empty. Kalla’s small craft is dwarfed by the others, yet it’s worth credits upon credits more than our best battleships.
