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No matter how much Qhasheik whined about the amount of work he put into it, he once admitted it could have been much worse. As he upgraded the ship’s mechanics, she, along with Katsuki and Abiditan, took care of cleaning out the interior as well as replacing and repairing anything worn out. After that, they filled it with whatever they needed for the journey—food and medicine, as well as enough quantum fuel to get them to Akurn and back.
Putting her hand over her stomach, she felt it rumble as her nerves squirmed. One step closer to meeting Sychar. “Sit there,” she commanded the silent male. She gave him a cursory examination and couldn’t help but compare him to the love of her life.
Sychar’s brilliant platinum hair had a tinge of royal red, while this man’s hair was blacker than midnight. The sharp widow’s peak at his forehead flowed in a silky curtain to his shoulders. Sychar’s single-colored irises were a rich turquoise, whereas this male’s eyes were more like hers, dual-colored. Instead of her brandy brown and sharp orange, his were a shocking teal with a jagged yellow that surrounded his dark pupils.
Both men were Akurn pale, but her captive had a rosy tinge underneath his skin tone. Then a strange thought occurred. She didn’t have access to his memories. She frowned. “What’s your name?”
“Zamush.”
She raised an eyebrow at the single answer. “Zamush? That’s it?”
“Yes.”
Studying the man, she resumed the comparison between him and Sychar. Both had square chins adorned with a deep cleft under a straight Roman nose. In every picture she’d seen of Sychar when he was Amil-Shamash, his jawline was smooth and free of facial hair. Not this guy. The man looked at her with a sardonic grin surrounded by scruffy facial hair that framed his full lips.
What was weird the way each of them affected her. Sychar inspired thoughts of giddy romance full of hearts and flowers. This guy, Zamush, roused the complete opposite. She bit her bottom lip. Here was a dangerously sensual man who brought to mind sultry nights and decadent days. Dammit! Stop that. What a stupid thing to think. Her heart and soul belonged to Sychar. Not some random guy she kidnapped. Whoever heard of reverse Stockholm Syndrome? She wasn’t one to let her dark side loose. Especially not with someone like him. No matter how tempting he might be.
What are you doing? BoD interrupted her musings. Get your stuff before they leave without us.
Hang on. I just want to enthrall him a little more, so he’ll stay put while we’re gone.
Okay. But quit stalling.
Jelena refused to be rushed. Taking Zamush’s chin in her hand, she stared into his eyes and established a connection. With a gentle whisper, she said, “Sleep.”
His eyes drooped as he lay back on the bed.
Positioning both of his hands over his stomach, she stepped back and watched him breathe. She flexed her fingers. Her normal chill warmed after touching him. That type of heat wasn’t anything she’d ever felt before. The man was a walking furnace.
Can we go now?
Yeah, yeah. We’re going.
She tugged on BoD’s harness and studied her sleeping captive with a frown. A nagging sense something wasn’t right bothered her. But she couldn’t figure out what it was. With one last glance, she left without activating the door lock. The slumbering guy wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, she’d be back long before he woke up.
~Zamush~
When the door swished closed behind Jelena, Zamush sat up and plopped his feet onto the floor. With his hands gripping his thighs, he looked around. The room was bare except for the bed and a small alcove. There was some writing on the outside of the indent in the wall, so he went over to read it. Instructions were written in ancient Akurn on how to use the personal device to cleanse the body and clothes, as well as how to eliminate any internal waste. Well, wasn’t that convenient? With a grunt, he inspected the walls to see if there were any hidden doors or cabinets that might hold something he could use.
Nothing stood out except for the depressing light gray of the room.
Oddly, the walls were warm when he touched them. Because of his heated metabolism most things felt cool to him.
Well, inspecting the room didn’t take long. Nothing stood out that would prevent him from leaving. He doubted Jelena locked it. No click or hum sounded after she left. She must’ve assumed he was deep under her enthrallment, so she didn’t have any reason to lock the door. Just to be safe, he’d wait and make sure she left the corridor before he ventured out.
First thing to do was find her three companions and introduce himself as only he could. He searched internally to make sure his bloodlust was under control. For the past several years, the urge to feed increased every year.
Maybe being around Jelena changed something inside him. He licked his dry lips. The idea of satisfying his need for blood with her friends left a bitter taste in his mouth. Ah, but his imagination ran wild as he envisioned indulging in the taste, scent, and texture of what she offered. His mouth watered. He took a deep breath and clenched his fingers. Patience. When he took Jelena’s blood, he would take his time and savor the experience.
With a grunt, he put his ear near the door and listened. Silence. Another step made the door slide open. Poking his head out, he looked right, then left, to make sure the corridor was empty. Erie silence. Leaving the room, he headed back the way he and Jelena originally came from. Out of the corner of his eye, a splash of red streaked against the wall. What the hell was that? When he didn’t find anything, he studied the elevator at the end of the corridor. That might take him wherever he wanted to go, but he’d hate to be in the small space if someone called the car. It would be better to avoid that for now.
By the stairwell entrance was a plaque with the ship’s schematics, again in ancient Akurn. With a grin, he studied the layout before entering the stairs that led to the bridge. First person he wanted to “introduce” himself to was that purple guy named Qhasheik, who had to be the engineer and the brains behind getting this ship to Akurn. He couldn’t wait to find out how they planned to do that. As far as he knew, Akurn was still out of transportation range for at least another month.
Exiting the service corridor outside the bridge, he closed his eyes and opened his senses. While he may not be as powerful telepath as Raiden or Michael, his honed senses were sharp enough for him to isolate any blood source he came across.
Yes, just on the other side of the doorway, he sensed someone inside. And it was an alien signature. It had to be Qhasheik or that yellow female. What was her name? Kat something. Not that he gave a shit which one it was. He had to “talk” to all of them after he’d consumed their blood and accessed their recent memories before Jelena came back. Then he’d put a slight compulsion into them. He’d become their “buddy” and join the group as a trusted member. With everyone behind him, Jelena wouldn’t have any choice but to agree to give him freedom of the ship.
He strode to the entrance, and the door swooshed open when he got close enough. Spying Qhasheik’s splayed legs under an open console, he narrowed his eyes to concentrate on accessing the male mentally to encourage him to come out in the open. A little hard to access the guy’s blood with his head under all that machinery.
