The Iriduan’s Mate by Susan Trombley
Seven
Shulgi perused the terms of the contract with little real interest, though he paid careful attention to the details. He could tell by the bullet points that there wouldn’t need to be much haggling on his end. From what he could see, Zaska really wanted Ma’Nah’s business. Most particularly, the company’s growing shipping concerns.
“Are you certain Zaska can provide this level of service,” he asked skeptically, glancing up at the very distracting dyed flower.
It was only the fact that he suspected distraction was her primary purpose that kept it from working on him. Though, he wasn’t completely immune to her.
She had taken a seat behind the desk, and no longer bowed her head like a beaten slave. Though he approved of the fact that she hadn’t been completely broken by her master and could still show spirit, he still wished he could find a way to free her, without jeopardizing everything.
Her lips tilted in a reassuring smile that didn’t meet her fascinating eyes. He had to stop himself from staring into them to try to determine their true shade. Instead, he shifted his attention back to the console in front of him.
“Please don’t let the apparent condition of the docks concern you, Shulgi. They are far more serviceable than they look. Their decrepit outward appearance serves an important role.”
Shulgi huffed, leaning back in his chair to regard her frankly. She met his eyes with little sign of her previous meekness. The abrupt shift in her demeanor made him deeply suspicious, but he also understood it. She had a role to play for Zaska, and she’d likely been well trained for it. Realizing her previous timid act didn’t yield the results her master no doubt desired, she’d been forced to change her tactic.
He could respect her skill at manipulation, even if he also found it distasteful. He didn’t blame the slave, but the master. He couldn’t imagine what nightmares this woman had been put through to learn her craft so well.
The apparent deterioration of Sha Zaska’s docks was another manipulation, a smokescreen to distract the city bosses from this tier. Clean, well-run, visibly repaired and technologically advanced docking bays and forcefields would draw their attention—and inspire more frequent visits from their tax assessors.
He understood subterfuge well. He could assess the true condition of the docks with an examination of the bays Ma’Nah would be using.
“What about your haulers? You’re offering the dedicated use of two ships in this contract, with the possibility of additional ships as we expand our shipping routes, but I see very few details about their capacity, make, model, space-worthiness, or who will crew them.”
Again, his words earned a slight smile, and Shulgi wished she could give him a genuine expression. One that he believed was her own and not an act for her master’s benefit.
“It was my intent to take you on a tour of our docks and show you one of the ships from our fleet that will haul your cargo.” She gestured to the console in front of him with an elegant sweep of a small and dainty hand. “I understand you wish to verify our ability to perform our end of the contract before agreeing to it, but I wanted you to be aware of the terms when you toured our facilities.” She slowly rose to her feet. “Shall we go now? Or would you like to read over any of the other points in the document?”
He’d skimmed the document already. There wasn’t much to it. Business dealings in Za’Kluth didn’t involve the layers upon layers of legal bindings and bureaucratic nonsense that would be found in inner system contracts. This one laid out the essential terms, financial obligations of both sides, and how either side could break the agreement.
If someone tried to break the terms of the contract, enforcement of those terms depended on how big an army either side could raise and mobilize before the city bosses took notice and brought their bootheels down to crush both sides.
Ma’Nah had no intention of riling up Sha Zaska, nor would the under-tier boss want to mess with the dreg. Upon consideration, Shulgi found it ironic that contract disputes in Za’Kluth were rare, and that business, foul as it might be, often ended up being far more civilly conducted in this criminal city than in some of the most civilized cities in the Syndicate.
He stood, his gaze shifting from her captivating eyes to trail down her form. This time, she’d covered more of her skin in a green dress with a billowing skirt, no doubt because her master felt he already had Shulgi and Ma’Nah on the hook. In that case, he was grateful she wasn’t forced to display her body for his benefit, though he couldn’t help wishing she would like to do so of her own free will.
Not that he would dare to remove his mask for her. Even if that single re-affliction was an aberration he didn’t have to fear happening to himself, he didn’t want anyone who might understand why Iriduan males wore masks to notice he didn’t use one around a human female. Especially since humans were known to be so strongly fragrant—perhaps because they were also close to completely nose-blind and could barely detect a pheromone even if they were drenched in it.
He assessed the Ultimen guards as they shifted to allow the dyed flower to pass around the desk onto his side. The hairy species were well known for being intelligent and technologically advanced, but they were also known in the galaxy for being physically strong and more than capable of fighting, if necessary, though they usually sought peaceful ways to deal with conflicts. The combination of high intelligence and physical strength as well as a strong sense of diplomacy had made them one of the most dominant species in the Cosmic Syndicate.
Many members of the species served in guardsmen capacity in Syndicate-controlled space, but it was rare to find them on the Rim, since they didn’t usually resort to criminal and violent activities by choice. The story behind these two was probably an interesting one, but the important thing was that they weren’t likely to make a move against him unless he posed a genuine threat to their charge.
She certainly seemed comfortable around her guards as she walked gracefully to the door that led into the lobby. “Please, come with me and I will show you the bays we’ve set aside for Ma’Nah’s use.”
Shulgi tucked his wings behind him as he moved to stand next to her, shooting a warning glance at the Ultimen who came up beside him. They both towered over him, just as he towered over the petite female. This didn’t intimidate him, but he also wasn’t reckless.
The dyed flower glanced over at him, then frowned as her gaze shifted upwards to meet the eyes of one of the Ultimen.
Shulgi found it curious that the guard shifted away from him, almost as if he’d been given a command to give Shulgi more space as he stood beside the woman.
Perhaps they were so obedient to Sha Zaska that they viewed every glance from his mouthpiece as a verbal command. It was an interesting dynamic, but Shulgi found the woman herself far more interesting as he followed her through the lobby, then out onto the docks.
“What is your name?” he asked impulsively as soon as they stepped outside Zaska’s building. He was tired of calling her a dyed flower in his head.
She shot a glance at him, the purple shade of her cheeks darkening. “My name?” Her gaze scanned the docks rapidly, as if she sought an escape from something. Then she sighed and shrugged. “My name is Molly.”
Despite her almost defeated tone, she seemed surprised by her own words, her eyes widening as a hand lifted to her mouth. It looked like she wanted to push the name back behind her lips but realized it was too late.
“I won’t tell your master you’ve given me your name, Molly,” Shulgi said in a low, soothing voice, irritated that the speaker on his mask made it difficult to whisper.
If only he could talk to her without that barrier between them.
She met his eyes, and a smile spread on her lips that finally reached her own. It looked more genuine than any of the other expressions he’d seen on her winsome face. “You are truly a good person, aren’t you?” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear her over the dull roar of noise as they strolled towards the docking bays. “Why would you ever want to live in a place like this?”
Shulgi’s pleasure at seeing a true smile from her dimmed as he considered her words. He knew he wasn’t a good person. He was a murderer.
“I have my reasons.” His tone had sharpened unintentionally, and he wanted to curse at himself when her smile disappeared and she stiffened, the mask of politeness sliding back over her features.
“Forgive me, Shulgi,” she said in the breathy tone that he now knew was completely affected to fit her demure and submissive persona, “I should not have asked such a question.”
Irritated at himself for being so inept in speaking to a female, he shook his head, reaching out a hand to stop her before they walked into the closest bay where Ma’Nah’s ships would dock. “I’m sorry, Molly. I’m not… accustomed to speaking to… women. Forgive my boorish tone. I took no offense from your question.”
Another brief flash of a genuine smile crossed her face, rewarding his honesty, no matter how humiliating it had been to admit to his failing. She glanced down at his hand, which had fallen upon her shoulder to pause her steps. When he shifted to pull away from her, she caught his fingers with hers.
Her pupils dilated, the shade of her eyes turning more green than amber or brown, a golden halo surrounding the irises. Her lips slightly parted as her breathing grew shallow and the dye on her cheeks darkened with a flush.
He felt paralyzed by the feeling of her fingers closing around his. When she lifted his hand to her soft lips and kissed one of the scars on the back of it, he didn’t pull it away. Instead, he entwined his fingers with hers and tugged her closer to him.
Her small, warm body bumped against his chest, and her head tilted back to look up into his eyes. He felt the weight of the mask covering his mouth and nose and a vague part of him realized it was the only thing keeping him from lowering his head to kiss her.
Panic at how captivated he felt by her made him push her away from him, though even then, he did it gently, feeling unable to cause her the slightest bit of harm.
“Forgive me, Molly,” he said quickly at the hurt expression that crossed her face. “I did not come here to accost you in such a way. I am here only for business.”
“What if I want you to ‘accost me’ in such a way,” she whispered in a voice husky with desire as a slow smile spread on her lips, her eyes still slightly dilated and shaded forest green and soft gold.
He wished he could tell if her demeanor and expression were genuine—or a result of long, unwilling training.
The recollection that she was a slave was enough to cool his desire, which was a good thing, because his erection would soon become obvious if it grew much stiffer, and he cursed his decision to wear a formal robe rather than combat armor.
He might get away with an obvious bulge at his groin in the under-tier, since it didn’t look like there were any Iriduans on this dock, but if it lasted all the way back to the dreg, his condition would attract unwanted questions.
Turning his attention to the docking bay, he tried to focus on the details of that space and what they would mean for his business, and the underlying purpose of it. He had to remind himself of the whole reason for him being in Za’Kluth, because Molly was proving far too distracting and appealing.
One of the Zaska’s cargo ships sat in the bay, and Molly, perhaps sensing his deliberate shift of focus, gestured to it, though he didn’t miss the small sigh that came from her. It made him think that her desire had not all been an act. He knew that Iriduan males were fetishized in some parts of the galaxy, especially on the Rim. He’d even been part of a team that broke up a slave ring while serving in the Iriduan military, where unmated males were forcibly imprinted and then ordered by their new queens to serve in a brothel.
It was possible that Molly had a fetish for his people. It was also possible that she was simply attracted to him because he didn’t look that significantly different from a human male, and her exposure to those was likely limited.
Or she was simply talented at acting, and that final concern was the one that kept him from feeling any hope that this sudden and unwelcome interest in her would amount to anything.
