The Iriduan’s Mate by Susan Trombley
Nineteen
Shulgi wanted to spend more time with Molly. He wanted to spend the entire day cycle with her, to make love to her again and fall asleep with her safely in his arms. The last thing he wanted to do was watch her leave him, with her bodyguards flanking her as she returned to the monster that dared to call himself her master.
After a long, parting kiss, he had to say goodbye to her. They both had to return to their duties, and he’d already risked too much by making this time for her. After the last time he’d been with her, he’d passed out cold after the stimulants had worn off and had not awakened for several day cycles. As soon as he’d managed to crawl out of his bed, starving and shaken by how weakened he’d felt, he’d been swamped with work. They had a lot to prep for with the upcoming arrival of the weapon sample.
They needed new equipment for the lab in order to store and process the weapon, and procuring that was Shulgi’s primary responsibility. Beyond that, he had all his regular duties, including running the actual business of Ma’Nah and making a myriad of decisions to keep them solvent despite the massive expenses their true mission incurred. He really shouldn’t have left the dreg to spend time with Molly.
He knew what he had to do, and though it killed him to let Molly go, he didn’t chase after her. Instead, he made use of the bathroom facilities and cleaned up, washing away all of Molly’s scent. He also decontaminated the room and his clothing to make certain not a trace of it lingered that would raise questions and doubts in the dreg.
He had to return to Namerian and would tell him that Zaska’s minions were helping him to smuggle in some of the more difficult equipment to find. Making those arrangements shouldn’t be difficult. Zaska’s minions were already eager to ship anything and everything Ma’Nah required. Dealing with them meant he had a better excuse to be with Molly.
After he finally left the inn and was making his way through the crowded streets of second-tier, he received a message he’d been waiting for. He immediately opened it, reading it quickly on his wrist com before changing his direction. Before he could report back to Namerian, he had to make a stop on fourth-tier to meet an information peddler whose services were difficult to procure, but he’d been told they were well worth the effort.
Fourth-tier, like every level below fifth in the column, was overcrowded and filled with the press of alien bodies. Not many Iriduans bothered with this level, but he spotted a few in the crowd. Like him, they only made eye contact briefly, quickly nodded acknowledgement, then looked away. He doubted they were from the dreg.
Za’Kluth did business with every species in the Syndicate—and some too weak and poor to have membership in it. It wasn’t impossible to encounter unaffiliated Iriduans, even imperial Iriduans, making their way through the crowds, rare though that was. The imperial Iriduans tended to avoid worlds like this, as their allegiance put them at risk from rebels and out-castes eager for vengeance.
Thus, the lack of prolonged eye-contact and the careful avoidance of each other.
Business fronts thronged the streets, so crowded and chaotic that it was a wonder anyone could make their way through the pop-up market stalls and vendors and temporary structures where countless different species peddled their wares in loud calls and vivid and garish advertisements.
He’d been given a location and his wrist com assisted him in homing in on it. That location was the only information that had been passed in the message sent to him by some old contacts who’d switched sides from imperial to rebel.
This information peddler didn’t do business with the Iriduan empire—perhaps because they knew too much about that government to trust them. Shulgi couldn’t blame them. The empire had a bad habit of betraying those who aided it, and “disappearing” those who threatened it.
In fact, it was risky to even follow the directions to this location, as one of his contacts might have switched back to the imperial side or was even serving as a double agent. Capturing Shulgi would be quite a boon for the second emperor, who all sources said was now completely in control of the government—the Oprimo being overwhelmed by his affliction to his empress. It wouldn’t be long before the Secundo unseated the Oprimo and took his place—or selected some other male to take that place if he couldn’t bear the idea of finding an empress of his own.
Few males who could choose wanted to imprint if they didn’t have to.
Shulgi would choose Molly, if he’d had a choice, but he knew that he’d likely never have met her if he hadn’t imprinted on Ninhursag. In fact, he likely never would have mated at all if he hadn’t been entrapped. He might never have even had a sexual experience, never being one for using sexual stimulants. Though it wasn’t the sex he had with Molly that made him so eager to spend time with her, he certainly enjoyed it. It also felt right to him, in a way that being with Ninhursag had not.
Molly truly felt like she was his when he had her beneath him. She seemed engaged and eager, her eyes only for him. She seemed connected to him rather than detached and cold.
He could see how good a life with her as his mate could be. He didn’t think she would ever take advantage of her influence over him. The empathy in her eyes as he’d told the sordid truth about his past, and the way she’d insisted that he was a good person despite all the terrible things he’d done made him want to believe in himself as much as she seemed to. He wanted to be the male she thought him to be.
Proving himself worthy of her started with this meeting with the information peddler. He couldn’t keep Molly as his queen, but he could free her from Zaska and destroy that monster and everything he’d built up in the under-tier.
The location turned out to be a small curiosities shop tucked deep within a shadowed alleyway between two eateries. Given the out-of-the-way location and the dangerous neighborhood, he wasn’t surprised the shop had no customers, despite the intriguing items on display from all over the galaxy.
His wings flicked as he scanned his surroundings constantly, feeling tense from the moment he’d entered the alley. If he’d had the time after receiving the message, he would have returned to Ma’Nah for his armor and weapons. He could usually find a way to dispatch his enemies without them, but it was much easier and less potentially painful when he used them.
Unfortunately, this meeting was an appointment. One the information peddler would not wait around for, so Shulgi had to make the time. Besides, Namerian would ask questions if he’d returned to Ma’Nah solely to grab weapons and armor. He didn’t want Namerian to discover that he planned on destroying their newest ally and the corrupt businesses he controlled that would allow Ma’Nah to smuggle in their needed supplies.
If he did this right, he could take over Zaska’s infrastructure after wiping him and his most loyal minions out, and Ma’Nah could install their own leader to run things. Most lower-level minions didn’t really concern themselves with who was running things, as long as they continued to get paid.
For now, all he needed was someone who could gain access to information he’d been unable to obtain on his own. Zaska’s movements were a complete mystery, though his minions had been well tracked by his enemies. No one could get close enough to the monster himself to truly pinpoint his location in the under-vents. Nor could anyone determine the true size of his organization and holdings as he used a variety of front companies to hide his dealings from city bosses and his rivals alike. His visible minions and businesses concealed far more below the surface, just like they concealed the monster himself.
The door to the curiosity shop slid open as he approached, revealing an interior packed with overflowing shelves, like a barter market in the slummiest sector of the dreg. Shulgi entered with caution, his body tense in preparation for an ambush, his gaze scanning the dimly lit interior of the shop, seeking potential threats as well as assessing his options if combat ensued.
A bored olem stood behind the counter, two of his three eyes focused on a screen that was below the top of the counter out of Shulgi’s sight. His third eye glowed as Shulgi approached him. He straightened to his full height, which was nearly as tall as Shulgi’s.
“Don’t get your kind in here often,” the olem growled out, his snout twitching as he sniffed. His pointed ears flicked towards Shulgi as his upper set of hands settled on the top of the counter.
“I have an appointment.” Shulgi stopped in front of the counter, boldly meeting the three eyes of the olem male in a show of dominance.
The olem bared his sharp teeth in a grin, then lowered two of his three eyes again. “Of course, honored Iriduan. You are welcome to my shop. Our mutual acquaintance will meet you in the back room.” He turned and gestured to a sealed door behind the counter. “Please, come this way.”
Shulgi rounded the counter, his muscles tense and ears pricked as he neared the olem. The species weren’t usually foolish enough to attack without being certain they could win the fight, and he knew that he didn’t look like an easy target, despite wearing only a robe instead of full body armor.
“Your mate fill these shelves?” he asked in a carefully neutral tone as his gaze scanned the other side of the counter, noting a spiked club he could grab to kill the olem if the other male got any foolish ideas in his head.
The olem snorted at the question. “Sister. Haven’t hunted a mate yet.” The olem waved an upper hand towards Shulgi’s mask. “See you don’t have a queen yourself.”
Shulgi chuckled, though he thought longingly of Molly. “I don’t need a queen to travel off world.”
“More likely she’d keep you downside, eh,” the olem said, narrowing his lower pair of eyes. “Unless you’re a parlor pet.”
Shulgi cocked his head, regarding the olem with suspicion. “You seem well informed about Iriduans for a ground-sider. You sure you don’t have a mate? Surely your sister doesn’t link with you.”
The olem snuffled with open laughter. “I can see I’ve given offense, since you are quick to return it. It would seem we both know far more about each other’s kind than either of us are comfortable with.” He gestured again to the door, and it slid open as they both neared it.
“Please, wait within. Your contact will meet you there.” He held up both lower hands, showing they were empty of any weapons or threats. “I mean you no ill will. I’m a professional, ground-sider though I be. Besides, I know how deadly the Iriduan soldiers can be. Even if they no longer serve their emperors.” He grinned again, pointedly lowering his bottom pair of eyes in submission. The spines on his back flattened and his head hunched until it hung much lower than Shulgi’s.
Shulgi acknowledged the gesture with a sharp nod then entered the interior of the backroom, quickly scanning it for alternative entrances and potential weapons. His wings flicked as he turned to regard the olem. The door slid shut between them, sealing him into a room with no other visible exits.
Still, it was a storage room, not a cell. A simple access panel for the door existed on this side of it, and Shulgi had broken through the like more than once in the past. He wasn’t overly concerned yet. He was disappointed to see that the room stood empty save for more junk packed into crates, boxes, and barrels stacked against every wall of the small space.
He regarded the crates next to the door thoughtfully, patient enough to wait for the moment, though his senses prickled with unease that hadn’t left him since he’d received the message of this meeting.
“I’ve heard the lamuchin statuettes are very popular with olemites,” a lilting voice said from behind him.
Shulgi spun around, snatching up one of the small statuettes as he turned. He froze in mid-swing, the statuette just above his head, though not by his choice.
The female standing before him was slender, almost sylphlike. That wasn’t what made her so startling—and terrifying.
She had a hand up in front of her, her palm turned towards him. He knew without asking that she froze him in place with her mind alone.
He also knew without asking that this female could disintegrate him with a thought.
“You’re a Lusian?” he said with a grunt, still tensing to pull his arm out of her telekinetic grip. “A female?”
Her large black eyes slowly blinked as she lowered her hand, holding it out to him, palm upwards, three long fingers splayed open. Waves of silvery hair a shade lighter than her light gray skin covered a head that seemed smaller than Roz and his crew’s had been, though it still retained the general and distinctive shape and features of a Lusian. Her lips were thin, her nose nearly flat with two small nostrils, her eyes as large and unnerving as any Lusian’s were. Her slender body had slight curves in breast and hip. Noticeable but not overtly obvious, even in a skintight silver jumpsuit.
Without meaning to, he handed her the statuette, and her fingers curled around it. She lifted it to regard the carven image with the expressionless face of her kind, though one far more delicate and feminine than he’d ever seen before.
“I am an aberration.” She glanced up at him. “You’ve met others.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and he realized she was probing his mind as he felt a slight internal tug on memories he’d buried deep.
He shook his head with a sharp jerk, forming the image of a wall inside his mind that caused her to frown in irritation. “I might have. I assume you’ve met a mate that made you this way.”
“Your assumption is incorrect.” She cocked her head. “Though it does explain something about the other aberrations. How curious.”
“I came here to meet an information peddler. Should I assume that is you, or would that also be incorrect?”
He didn’t bother to ask how she’d entered the room without passing through the door, now that he understood what species she was. He’d learned more than he’d ever wanted to know about them when he’d spent time on Roz’s ship with his bizarre crew. Teleportation was easy for them.
“That assumption would be correct,” she said with a small smile that seemed almost out of place on such an enigmatic visage. “Your case intrigues me. As does your connection with a rival cohort. A rogue operation, no less.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Shulgi said through gritted teeth, bolstering his mental walls.
She lifted her free hand, gesturing in a smooth motion. He felt suddenly calm and relaxed, though he had enough sense to retain his mind shield. “There is no need for aggression. My kind engage in rivalries in a far different manner from your own. I suppose my own position puts me at odds with all other affiliated cohorts. I have more in common with your rogues than with the Progenitors’ Council.”
“I truly don’t understand.” He felt more sanguine and knew that was a direct result of her power over him, which conversely caused combat stimulants to release into his bloodstream.
She chuckled, showing even more animation in her features than Roz had. “The circumstances behind my transformation are different from the others you’ve known, but they have made me no less of an outcast of my species. Perhaps even more of one, as I am certain my existence would be extinguished were I to grow careless enough to allow any of my kind still affiliated to find me.”
She lowered her empty hand, then set the statuette on the top of a crate standing next to her. “I have no interest in making enemies of your… allies. I am merely curious. Curiosity is my driving purpose, and the result is the product that I offer you—information that you can’t find anywhere else.”
Shulgi felt a spark of hope and anticipation. If anyone could find the illusive Sha Zaska, it would be a Lusian.
“Would you like to know my rates?” the female asked, her unblinking eyes fixed on him.
“I need this information,” he said abruptly, “but I have limits to what I will pay for it.” He did not wish to seem too eager so that she felt she had the upper hand in the bargaining. He kept the fact that he would pay anything to save Molly out of his head with effort.
“You ask for very privileged information. Information others have requested prior to you.” The female glanced around the room as if searching for something. “There are those who would pay a small fortune to locate the one you seek.”
“I haven’t given you a name yet.”
She smirked, meeting his eyes again. “As if I needed you to speak it aloud.” She tapped her temple with one long finger. “I hear you shouting his name in rage repeatedly in your head. I know not only his name, but your reason for seeking his location.” She studied him thoughtfully, tapping her pointed chin. “Your bloodlust is strong, but I sense something far stronger behind it.”
“Just tell me what it will cost me to find the off-breed,” he snarled, the false calm she’d sent to his mind dissipating. “What I will do to him when I find him is well deserved.”
“Za’Kluth is a dangerous world,” she said, her tone taking on a sharpness that he recognized as all business.
“For a Lusian?” he scoffed.
She grinned, revealing straight, white teeth, lacking the sharpened eyeteeth of Roz and his crew of males. “I am not invincible. Besides, I work through other sources less… gifted than myself. It would not be wise to risk revealing my presence to some of my kind.”
“Name your price….” He raised his brows at her in question.
“My name is Luna.” She lifted her chin, eyeing him with a hesitance in her expression that surprised him.
“Very well, Luna.”
He knew from Roz that the Lusians did not generally have names. Only titles like Director, Associate, and Drone. He suspected there were more titles, but those were the only ones he’d been exposed to during his time on Roz’s ship. Luna likely chose the name in defiance of her cohort, rather than being granted it by a mate, like Roz had received his.
She regarded him in silence for a long moment, though he still felt the prickling in his thoughts that told him she was trying to read them. He hoped the shields he’d raised were good enough to conceal the things he didn’t want her learning. He made a conscious effort not to think of what those things were.
Finally, she seemed to give up, though he didn’t let his guard down. She turned her penetrating gaze away from him, scanning the storage room as if it held objects of great interest to her. “My rates are high, and—as you must have been informed—I am selective about who I will work with.” Her gaze shifted back towards him. “Iriduans generally do not make the list.”
“And yet it was an Iriduan contact who set up this meeting.” Shulgi crossed his arms over his chest, studying the delicate features of the shorter Lusian.
The fact that she was smaller than Roz and his crew made Shulgi curious about her status prior to her transformation. In fact, she had the petite stature of an Associate or even a Drone rather than a much taller and more imposing Director. Yet, neither of those classifications possessed the degree of power she seemed to have.
She smirked again. “I sometimes make exceptions for Iriduan rebels. Anything to bedevil the empire.”
“You plan on making an exception for me?”
She met his eyes again, her gaze as uncomfortable as before. Lusian eyes were the hardest to meet, and for some, the most frightening to see. He had more fortitude than the average Iriduan, but he still found them unnerving.
“As I said, your case intrigues me. Until I met you here, I wasn’t certain why you had so much interest in Sha Zaska.” She cocked her head. “My rates would be as high as always.” She smiled broadly, a startling expression on a Lusian. “Perhaps even higher. Your species is known for having access to plenty of wealth.”
“You still haven’t given me a number.” He tried not to allow his impatience to show through, but he was eager to get this meeting over with.
He had to return to Namerian and give him an update on the status of the equipment he needed to procure. He felt torn between his duty and his desire to help Molly.
“My price has changed now that I’ve learned more about you,” she said in a thoughtful tone. “I need something more important than credits to me.”
Shulgi braced himself for news he suspected he wouldn’t like. “And what would that be?”
She broke eye contact again, turning away from him. “I need protection. The protection of a cohort.” She glanced over her slim shoulder at him, her silver hair framing her high cheekbone, her black eye gleaming above it. “You happen to know of one that might accept an aberration such as myself into their crew.”
“Connecting you with others doesn’t seem like a high price,” he said suspiciously, unwilling to believe that a simple message to Roz would be all it took to get Sha Zaska’s information.
She stared at the wall in front of her, hiding her expression from Shulgi. “It is not in our nature to mix cohorts. Convincing the other aberrations to accept one not of their kind will be a challenge.”
“What of your own cohort? Did they expel you from their number because of…?”
She slowly shook her head. “That will be another hurdle. I cannot hide the truth from a director.”
“I take it that truth will be a bad one?”
He wondered whether Roz would accept Luna into his cohort. He knew too little about the enigmatic Lusians to be certain, even though Roz himself had been remarkably friendly and helpful in comparison to the rest of their species. Yet always, Shulgi got the feeling that Roz worked towards his own ends and helped only when that assistance furthered those ends. Fortunately, he also suspected that Roz’s ultimate goals were benevolent, given how much his aid had improved things for the people he’d helped.
She shrugged one shoulder. “It is. A terrible truth. One that would get me killed by most of my kind even if they could accept my… change.” Her head tilted back, her hair falling to the middle of her back. “I had no choice,” she said in a sad tone.
“I can contact the crew you’re looking for,” he said, “but I can’t promise they’ll accept you. I really need Zaska’s location, so perhaps you can offer me an alternative price if things don’t work out.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder again. “Contact them. Let them know that I murdered my cohort—and my director. If you can get them to hear me out, then I will have Zaska’s location for you within a Standard week.”
Shulgi’s blood prickled with combat stimulants as he regarded the slender back of the Lusian. “And if they refuse to hear you out? If they decide to punish you for your crimes?”
“If that is their intent, then they won’t find me,” she said flatly. “I will contact you within two cycles. I expect you to have heard back from them by that time.”
Before he could respond, she suddenly disappeared.
