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“What the fuck? What do you mean, ‘pretty lashes’?” he growled.
“I mean they’re long and thick—most women would kill for lashes like that,” Andi informed him. “But as of now, you are not allowed to touch or rub your eyes. I don’t want you ruining all my hard work.”
“What if my eyes itch, though?” he asked, scowling. “What if?—?”
“I said no touching!” Andi said sternly. “Do you understand?”
Again that drugged look came into his eyes.
“Yes, Mistress.”
Andi frowned.
“Why do you keep calling me that? I’m your ‘Queen’ not your Mistress.”
“Uh, sorry.” He blinked and the look was gone.
But just the fact that it had been there in the first place worried Andi.
“Thrax,” she said tentatively. “Is there something you want to tell me? Something bothering you about this mission?”
“What? No—of course not.” Again he denied it too quickly and once more he couldn’t meet her gaze. Andi noted that one big hand had crept around and was rubbing the small of his back where the black tangle of tattoos that covered his body was thickest.
She wanted to shake the big Hybrid—why wouldn’t he tell her what was wrong? They’d saved each other’s lives on multiple occasions—if he could trust anyone it was her. But she knew from experience that she wasn’t getting anything out of him until he was ready to speak.
“Okay, fine,” she said lightly. “But I can tell something’s going on with you. When you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be here.”
“But—” he began.
“No, that’s it. That’s all I have to say,” she said, shaking her head. “Get back in your seat and land the ship.”
“All right, fine,” Thrax grumbled, rising smoothly to tower over her. He slid back into the pilot’s seat and gripped the steering yoke. “You think we ought to take our blasters with us?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject.
“I don’t think so—we’re just going to a party. And it’s not like we have anyplace to hide them,” Andi remarked, looking down at herself.
Thrax sighed.
“You’re probably right—we’ll leave them in the ship. Get ready—Salacious Delta, here we come.”
6
ANDI
After Thrax landed the long-range shuttle on an extremely large floating platform, Andi saw a woman waving at them. She was wearing an outfit very much like the one Andi had on, with a black corset, skirt, and boots, and a see-through red shirt tucked into the corset.
As Andi and Thrax exited the shuttle, she noticed there was a man standing about two paces back from the woman who was waving. He was dressed like Thrax, in a kilt made of leather strips and an abbreviated shirt which only covered his arms, shoulders, and neck and left his torso completely bare.
Well, at least Kat had gotten the fashions right, she thought as she waved back at the woman as they descended from the shuttle. She smiled at the woman, who quickly introduced herself and her mate.
“Hello, I’m Queen Shannabatch Keenasdaughter and this is my male-wife, Rux,” she said to Andi. “I’m here to be your guide and bring you to the party. I assume you have your invitation?”
Andi produced the stiff piece of parchment with the golden script that Kat had given to her and the other woman nodded and looked pleased.
“Excellent! And may I know your full name so the doorman can announce you?”
“Oh, uh, I’m Queen Andrea Elladaughter and this is my, uh, male-wife, Thrax,” Andi said, thinking fast to remember her matronymic name. “But you can just call me ‘Andi.’”
The woman, who had pale orange skin and long purple hair with a blonde streak right down the center almost like a skunk’s stripe, nodded and smiled.
