By Jane Carver

Voices below deck greeted Vangee with reserved respect. Gambrel would dust anyone who didn’t show her deference. A few like Jacon greeted welcomed her, warm friendship evident in words and actions. While Jacon, his wife and daughter spoke to her like an old acquaintance, none laid a hospitable hand on her arm or patted her shoulder. How must she feel, he wondered, to be surrounded by those who know you but never be touched? How lonely she must be.

He refused to see himself in her circumstance. No one laid a hand him except in a fight, and he never missed any of the warmth associated with such contacts. In a lifetime long ago, someone loved and cherished him. All that disappeared in the flash of a blaster. He gained nothing by letting anyone come close again.

While Vangee talked to fellow passengers, he looked around the large room. Individual cabins lined the hull from stern to bow. Families lived in smaller ones. Unmated men shared larger ones. The same for unmated women. Portholes along the hull allowed for a clear view of space. Despite the crowded room, the high ceiling alleviated a sense of being cramped. Quite pleasant for a man his size.

Jacon moved to his side while Vangee stood on the other. Her hood hid most of her face. Gambrel remembered her saying how much she disliked meeting strangers.

“Vangee Windrum and Gambrel Sarjean, meet some of our fellow passengers.” Jacon introduced a small barrel-chested man who stood shorter than Vangee. “This is Wangon, master grower. Chiffro, his mate and his son, Aldin.” Vangee nodded, but Gambrel was forced to accept the man’s clasp in welcome. The young one, Aldin, impressed him when he stepped forward, bowed slightly to Vangee then clasped his arm like the father.

Jacon nodded to the family, and they moved aside. A young man came forward. His dark skin and lizard-like features proclaimed him a member of the Lazzard race. “Pessios, sire. Lady.” He also clasped Gambrel’s arm in greeting and gave Vangee a bow of respect.

While Gambrel debated whether he smiled or not, Pessios lifted the sides of his large mouth. A narrow red tongue came out and flicked the air between them. Gambrel stood his ground but wondered if the man tested him somehow.

“I offend you, sire. Not my intention. I merely tasted your scent so I can find you if necessary. Our people protect those who are important or beloved in this way.” With another bow, he passed on out of sight.

For the next sixty-brace, Gambrel met men and woman who seemed no different from him in their desire to seek a better life. Yet he knew himself unlike them. His existence revolved around killing, hunting those who killed. Once he had worked as an enforcer. Then he became a being bent on revenge. Fifteen years he had looked for Handid and the criminals that followed him. Now only one man remained alive. No one here could imagine the way Gambrel lived.

Pessios and a fellow Lizzardian named Canfanto talked to Jacon and Gambrel while Vangee visited with Effie, Dara’s mother, the girl he met earlier. Vangee caught his eye and nodded toward Dara. Did he notice the child trying to escape her mother’s arms, intent on reaching him?

The little girl frowned at her mother and squirmed in her arms. She implored him with her gaze, but he ignored her. Finally, she gave up trying to get to him and put her head on her mother’s shoulder where she promptly fell asleep.

Most of the women left to put their children to bed. Gambrel stood beside Vangee, her shoulders slumped. Weariness rode her hard. Having no way to tell time on the ship, he assumed it must be late. About to take leave of her and Jacon, he paused when the other man put out a hand to stop him. Jacon raised one eyebrow and nodded toward a small group of men approaching.

“You are the one called Sarjean?” The man speaking wore leathers like Gambrel but stood far shorter than he. He looked to be a man of mature years, in the prime of life. He would probably also fall short of Gambrel’s extended years. Flat black eyes, wide and large, stared at the taller man. While his face appeared human, certain aspects of his physiology showed him to be otherwise. The man shed no light on his origins. He left no doubt what he thought of Gambrel joining the voyage so late and in the manner he did.

He introduced himself as Gastrojan. His companions were Pharlie and Lycol. “Who brought you aboard? We signed up when the contract opened. Who are you to rate this kind of treatment? Better for all of us if you leave at the first port.” The man hooked his thumbs deep in his belt and took a wider stance. A fighter’s stance.

Never hook your thumbs. If you need to throw a punch, you’d be out of luck. Trapped. Gambrel smiled at the thought of hitting the cocky bastard. No matter what side of the universe he traveled to, men like him always made their presence known. His attitude would make the trip harder to bear.

Gambrel’s smiles usually scared men, but Gastrojan didn’t change his stance or glare. Faster thinkers than their leader, his friends stepped back. Gambrel let the smile slip from his face, and he shook his head, sorry for the shorter man.

Before anything inappropriate happened, a hush fell over the group. The aura of the room shifted. He no longer wanted to pound the sanctimonious sneer off Gastrojan. The other man looked confused.

A soft hand touched Gambrel’s tense arm muscles. Immediately he relaxed. He didn’t want to, but he did.

Vangee stepped to his side. “Good night, Gastrojan. Our introduction can wait for another day.” She turned to Jacon, but still touched Gambrel’s arm. “Friend Jacon, I will join you at morning rise.” She climbed the stairs, leaving two of the three men bemused by their sudden disinterest in fighting.

The staring contest between the two men would have continued, but the younger man turned away. The trio left.

Jacon shook his head, glanced at Gambrel, and smiled. “She did it again.” With no further explanation, he too quit the room.

She used her power as a Radiant to empathically influence the men’s behaviors. Gambrel wondered—could she avert a war if necessary?

Deck lights glowed in small patches. Otherwise, the only light came from the sun behind the fleet. Seven morning rises would pass before they left the dying planet behind. He caught up with Vangee by virtue of his longer stride, not because he hurried.

Neither spoke until they reached the door leading to the cabins below. Vangee stopped on the first step leading to the upper deck. “I must speak to the captain about those men.”

* * * *

Gambrel entered the cabin to find a larger bed attached to the wall where a smaller one once stood. Someone had removed the plate and cup Vangee brought earlier. He tested the mental control over the lights and smiled like a little boy when they brightened then faded and went out at his command. He lit one so it glowed softly against the bank of windows.

A gusty sigh escaped his lips. The bed’s firmness beneath his rear felt good, soft but not mushy. The black coat lay across the chair. His shirt buttons slipped apart slowly. The day was catching up to him. He scratched the hairs on his belly then tossed the shirt over his coat.

He’d lived in the thing for days. When did he last put on clean clothes? He couldn’t remember. Moving fast and looking for a killer who didn’t want to be found meant sleeping in the same clothes quite often. A self-sufficient man, he would take care of cleaning his things tomorrow.

He pulled a knife from inside his boot as the door opened. A small body slipped through. Instincts told him to throw the blade, but recognition held his hand.

“What the fick are you doing here?” Gambrel reached for his shirt but couldn’t get a grip on it, mainly because his gaze was locked on Vangee.

When he caught her eyeing the knife, the blade longer than his hand, he closed it and slipped it beneath his pillow. A weapon would not change the subject as far as he was concerned. Vangee Windrum had no business in this cabin.

“A fighter never gives up all his arsenal, huh?” She didn’t sound disappointed, scared, or defiant, merely amused. “If you promise no one but me will see that, I won’t say a word to Merlo.” Further into the cabin she moved, took off her cape, and hung it on a peg.

Decorations on the wall turned out to be drawers filled with feminine things like the lavender gown and robe she pulled out. She shook out the wrinkles then crossed the cabin, the garments thrown over her arm.

“What the fick are you doing in here?” Gambrel’s bellow would have awoken the dead if any were around. He harbored a sudden fear her father might rise from his watery grave and chase him off the ship into the breathlessness of space. The mere thought made Gambrel gasp for air.

“’Brel, are you all right?” Vangee came closer, her hand out to touch him, but he waved her away.

“Get out, lady. You don’t belong here.” He stood and grabbed his shirt, swinging it on while moving as far across the cabin as possible. His back hit the door when she approached.

“I don’t understand.”

He caught and held her gaze, willed several lights to glow brighter. He searched her eyes, looking for her soul and found instead the one thing he hoped he wouldn’t—innocence. Curse words from three planets burned the air.

She must leave.

His heart hammered against the wall of his chest. Each breath came more rapidly, became less filling. Sweat sopped his brow in the cool room. Thunder filled his ears, and his vision narrowed to the woman standing before him, confusion and concern creasing her forehead. His large hands opened and closed, wanting to feel the skin where her neck met her shoulder, wanting to hear her breathe next to his ear. Wanting to absorb the smells of her womanly essence. His shaft filled with blood and demanded relief. Thank the gods, his shirt hung loose and covered the mammoth bulge between his legs.

Maybe she should see his condition. Then she would leave. Take his hope. A hope that sprang alive when she slipped into the room like a lover coming to her mate. No, he couldn’t do it. She would not understand, a woman without a man. Untested in the ways of sexual intimacy.

His emotions held tight, he stepped closer and took hold of her shoulders. “You shouldn’t be here, lady. It’s not proper. I’m not some fresh-faced boy with harmless innocent desires. I might hurt you and not mean to.” Honesty worked best now.

His explanation cleared her confusion. The frown of worry left her face, and she smiled at him. She backed up a step. Gambrel let her go rather than bruise her.

“’Brel, this is the cabin my father and I were to share. This is where you are to stay. Don’t worry. The others know we are friends. You will not hurt me.” She held up her hand when he protested. “That man, Gastrojan, will not hurt you, and I will not allow you to harm him.”

Gambrel frowned in confusion.

  “Did you not sense me blocking your urge to hit the man?” She pouted. “Gastrojan wanted to fight. You would have stopped him, but someone else might have gotten hurt.” A small stool stood near. She sat and draped the clothes over her knees. “I am safe, and this is your home until we reach the new planet.”

“I can’t stay here. With you. It’s not right. We are not mated.” Others would not favor him for being here.

“That counts for nothing when we speak of me.” She flounced a bit, something he didn’t think her capable of. A totally feminine gesture. “I’m a Radiant, ‘Brel. My life differs from others. No one will say or do anything.”

“Speak it, no. Think it, they will. I can not ruin your reputation, lady.”

“Lady! Lady! Why do you insist on calling me such? We are friends, are we not? My name is Vangee. Call me so!” Her ire grew as her voice rose.

Surely Radiants were not subject to fits of temper. Yet her pale complexion wore a rosy hue of anger.

“My friends call me that though most never see my face clearly.” In a true huff, she left the stool and neared the opposite wall next to the built-in bed. Her bed, he realized. His was attached and much larger. Truly she did not expect him to lie with her.

A panel against the wall came away on a swinging hinge. Vangee lifted a metal bar at the side, and a shaft dropped into a shallow hole in the floor thus anchoring the wide panel at an angle. She stepped behind the board to change her clothes, leaving him to fight his imagination.

The tunic of her gray suit came to rest over the panel’s edge. Gambrel uncrossed his arms and rubbed his erection. The swelling filled his leather pants to the point of pain. If she were any other woman closed here with him, he’d undo the lacings and let himself fall into her waiting hands. His engorged shaft sought a hot, wet, and willing hole.

But this was Vangee, and he wasn’t about to subject her to his lust. He swept up his coat and stuffed the knife back down his boot. “I’m going to find somewhere else to sleep. Good night.” His traveling bag over his shoulder, a blanket tucked under his arm, he stomped to the door.

Before he opened it, her voice sighed across the room and captured his heart. “’Brel? Captain Merlo assigned each soul to a cabin so he would know where they were in case of an emergency. He will not abide someone stowing away in a corner on deck.” She glided out from behind the panel. The glows faded, leaving the room in darkness.

He saw only her silhouette. She stepped to the side of her bunk, sighed—a sound filled with a faint tremble of pain.

“I’m sorry you want to leave. I promise not to bother you. But there simply is no choice.”

The whisper of silk sliding to the floor caught his attention and tightened his throat as well as his shaft. In his imagination, she wore a whisper-thin gown. She pulled down the cover and slid under. Perhaps she left it over her hips or maybe at her feet. Perhaps she lay on her back, those large breasts peaked and hard. A trickle of sweat rolled down the side of his face.

“The cabin is warm. I will cool it. Works like the lights. Think cooler, and it will be so.” Her drowsy voice created visions of lusty hot pounding sex.

Hot? Fick! His blood boiled.

“Go to sleep,” she whispered.

“Only for tonight. I will speak to Captain Merlo at morning rise.”

“As you wish.” One last sigh and he knew she slept. This day burdened her with a killer, deprived her of a father and her home. She earned her rest.

His teeth clamped together so hard his jaw ached. Would she turn and speak again? When she didn’t, he slowly removed his clothes. Normally he slept with nothing on but a cover. Not this night or any other while aboard the Fenix. He feared his dreams and any possible results might get him in trouble. Best to leave on his leathers.

When he lay down, Gambrel discovered the pillow held her smell. He propped his arms beneath his head and wished he still sucked Lubian smoke sticks. They always calmed his nerves.

If her life changed that day, so did his. Trapped on a ship with those who abided the rules and shunned any who took justice into their own hands. Trapped in a cabin with a woman he desired more than anyone. Even his departed wife.

Long ago, he wanted different things. Now he desired something he had never dreamed of. Unconditional love. He and Xantis never shared that kind of connection. They loved the idea of being in love. But they weren’t. Not really.

His tense jaw popped. Sleep seemed far away, tension too close.

“’Brel?”

Fick. Wasn’t she asleep?

“Yes…Vangee?” He used her name reluctantly.

“Don’t be mad.”

Ah, she tore out his heart. Her concern sounded real. “I’m not. I put you in a bad situation, and I’m not happy about it.”

“Everything will work out.” A pause then she settled. “G’night.” Her words slurred.

“Night.” His hesitation this time. Something had nagged at him almost from the start. Minor but bothering. “Vangee?” He whispered in case she slept again. Did she want to hear his silly question? Maybe she was asleep.

“Umm?”

Fick! No such luck.

“Why do you call me ‘Brel?”

She took forever to answer, and he hoped she drifted off finally. But no, she answered.

“Because.”

“What kind of answer is that?” For the first time, he forgot who and what she was and talked to her like an ordinary woman. One who gave him a nonsensical female answer. “No one else calls me that.”

“I’m glad I’m the only one. I like ‘Brel. It’s a strong name…like you.” She waited a moment longer before adding, “It makes me feel safe.”

This? From a woman who controlled the emotions of crowds? His name made her feel safe? Would he ever understand women? Especially this one?

No use beating his brain about things he could not comprehend nor change. For a while he lay with his eyes open, his mind drifting over the last years, weeks, and the past few days. What chance of fate left him sailing astral tides?

* * * *

He laid in bed in a sweat the next morning rise for a different reason. His bladder sloshed, and he needed to relieve himself. But where were the personal facilities? Finally, he could stand the fullness no longer.

“Vangee!” His hiss sounded like a snake’s. When she didn’t stir, he tried again. “Vangee!” The bed sheets rustled.

“Umm?” From the sounds, she woke slowly.

“Where’s the personal facility? I’m about to bust.” No sense in wasting words.

“What?” Her drowsy reply said she wasn’t fully awake yet.

“Personal facilities. Where?”

“Oh.” She turned to face him. He looked over his pillow and caught her early morning sleepy-eyed expression. “See those panels in the corner beyond the door? Pull the first one out then hook the slide in the hole in the floor.” The contraption worked like her dressing panel. “Pull the other one all the way out like a door. They fit together and form a room complete with everything you need.” Her jaw popped when she yawned.

“Thank you.” She remained on her side facing him. He gave her a glare and raised one eyebrow. No way would he get up while she watched. The huge bulge between his legs was too obvious. If he were after sex, the bulge would mean something else entirely. But just to piss. No way.

She finally caught on, giggled and turned over with an exaggerated flounce. He had known this woman less than two days. Had no one but her father ever seen her do that, heard her giggle? A Radiant she might be, but she was delicious female too.

Faster than grace permitted, he opened the panels and relieved his bladder.