Obligation in Blood Read online

  “That’s the attitude. And don’t you dare ruin the time you have left getting all weepy and miserable. If you really are serious about spending life as a hired freighter, you’ll start off with a good reference from your time here. But remember, life is uncertain in the space lanes. I’ve seen too many die. Seize the day and thank the gods for what you can clutch in your heart. And while you have a minute, please nip up to the galley and get me a cup of javabrew and something to eat. Not plastifish. I don’t think I can stomach that. Something with solid protein and lots of pseudo onions would be my preference.”

  Heaven help her! Her own lot had grown and gone their own ways, and here she was, still trying to talk sense into a lovelorn youth. Honestly! For a bright lad, Adlet was astoundingly thick. No doubt his brain function was hampered by hormones. It had happened to her more than once. She just hoped Adlet had enough brains left to pick out a solid lunch. She needed it. Not that she was complaining, but Drake was an insistent and demanding lover and she didn’t quite have the blood or the stamina of fifty or sixty years ago.

  Still, it was rather wonderful to end up back in the bed of a vampire after all these years. There was just something about the way a vampire could bring you to climax with that tiny nip just above one’s clit. Mortal men could do a lot with tongue and lips but vampires had a particular style about them.

  “You’re smiling.”

  Adlet reappeared, jerked her right out of her reverie. “Yes, just thinking about Drake. Vampires are rather special, aren’t they?”

  Adlet turned such an astonishing shade of pink. Right up to his ears. He was going to stammer as well as blush. She was getting fond of the lad, but really. “Give me that before you drop it.” She took the tray and pulled out a shelf from the console. “And don’t look at me in that super shocked way. You know what giving blood to a vampire entails.”

  He nodded. “Yes, but…”

  She had to take pity on his obvious mortification. “I’m just so old?” Bless the lad. He’d soon learn, if he stayed in this life any length of time.

  “Not just that. You’re important. Venerated. The colony leaders listened to you.”

  The colony leaders listened to her because she, Drake, and Rand, between them had saved their skins. “Just don’t tell the colony leaders, agreed?” He grinned at that. He was rather sweet. When he wasn’t being an irritating naïf. “Thank you for breakfast. You got yourself some too?”

  “I’ll go back. Couldn’t carry two trays.”

  At least Adlet appreciated how much protein was required to restore oneself after satisfying a vampire’s needs. She’d finished the first sandwich by the time he came back with his own breakfast and for a while they ate in companionable silence.

  “I’m definitely going back to university,” Adlet announced between bites.

  She managed to rein in the smile. Almost. “Good. Wise decision.” Apart from the fact she’d have considered flaying both him and Rand if the reverse happened. Come to think of it, could one flay a vampire? “Two years isn’t half as long as it sounds right now, and with that degree, you can sign on at a fair wage on any ship in the galaxy.”

  “I’d rather come back to Rand and Drake -- and you of course,” he added.

  Poor lad! Rand would no doubt have had a dozen lovers between now and then. “See how things are then. You never quite know what life will toss your way.”

  He appeared to mentally digest that thought. No doubt saw it as the inane ramblings of an old crone. “Thanks for the breakfast.” She had needed it. Funny how food gave you that instant boost, when logically it took hours for the stomach to absorb nourishment. “Tell you what, Adlet. You nip down and check the cargo in the hold, then take a sleep while I watch things here. You can relieve me at noon.”

  Taking care of vampires did rather play old Harry with one’s body rhythms.

  The lad went off, taking their empty trays with him, and Ferda settled in to the less than enthralling task of scanning the vastness of the heavens.

  Two more days to planetside. She’d better suggest somewhere less adventurous than the Hallidan Hub for their next stop.

  “I’m off to rest now,” Adlet said, from what seemed to be his special spot in the doorway.

  “Sweet dreams.” They would be. An aftermath of vampire sex was decidedly interesting dreams.

  “Just one thing…”

  “Yes, Adlet?” What now? She was beginning to long for the quiet of a solitary watch.

  “About the cargo.”

  “What about it?” Not a problem. Not now.

  “It’s the way it’s packed. I ran a scan. Just to look really… There’s a large box in the second container. Not like the little sacs at all.”

  “Could be anything.” Or nothing. “Different warehouses and labs pack differently. Might even be a built-in refrigerant in case our power fluctuates.”

  “Then why only in one?”

  That was a bit odd. “Beats me. Economy. Oversight. I’ll have a look.”

  With a nod, Adlet went back to his quarters and Ferda settled in for a quiet morning. She’d nip down to the hold later. Observant of Adlet. Keep that up and he’d do well for himself.

  Once he was gone, the bridge settled to the wonderful familiar quiet that she so loved. Took her back to her teens and early twenties when she’d roved the space lanes with her father. Good thing Adlet had never asked which university she’d attended, but times had changed. One no longer earned licenses actually working on space ships. Admittedly ships’ controls were more complicated than in those distant days, and if he stayed with them he could learn a lot during a year. But she’d given her word, that she’d have him back in time for the new semester and damn, he’d be there if she had to drag him by the balls.

  A while later, setting controls on auto, she went down to the hold. Adlet had been right. Odd way to package anything. Maybe it was frozen. Compressed air in the large chamber, but why not the other one, too? She never did completely trust Zadde, but the shipping manifest had matched his description. Later, once the vamps woke up, she and Rand could check more closely.

  Ferda was back in the navigator’s seat, relaxing with a fresh mug of javabrew and wondering if Adlet would wake without a knock on the door to rouse him, when the first impact slammed into the hull.

  Chapter Three

  Dousing herself in hot javabrew was the very least of Ferda’s worries. She tossed the now empty mug aside, thanking the heavens for the thick fabric of her zipsuit, swiveled her chair to face the console, and started flicking switches, frowning at the empty viewing screen. Whatever was attacking was firing from above. Or behind. Behind, she decided, as a second hit glanced off the side of the hull. What in the name of the gods of creation was going on?

  She took over manual control and angled the ship sharply to port. The old tub responded slowly, but made the sharp turn, just avoiding a third impact. The flash of the missile shooting out into the vastness of space was soon blocked out by another hit, somewhere along the rear fuselage, if the scanners were accurate.

  Definitely under attack. The vamps were dead for the day and Adlet…

  Was rushing onto the bridge, wearing nothing but the skimpiest of black briefs, his zipsuit in hand.

  “What’s happening?” The panic in his voice clearly showed he had a good idea.

  “Someone is trying to blast us out of the universe.” As Ferda spoke, she took a sharp turn to starboard, avoiding the next missile. She couldn’t keep this zigzagging up for long. The steering couldn’t take the jolts, not that the ship could take too many impacts either, but they’d soon get wise to her tactics and adjust their firing to match. And if she changed the rhythm, she’d have intervals on a straight course and they’d be a prime target. “Had any experience with armaments, Adlet?”

  “What?” He was ashen pale.

  “Armaments. Attacking. Firing weapons at the unfriendlies. Hitting them before they get us again.” Which was precisely what happe
ned as she spoke, just a glance off the side, but it was enough to drain the last vestige of color from Adlet’s face. His idea of adventure obviously hadn’t included this sort of excitement.

  “Yes! I had target practice on Praeden. We all did. Just in case the Wardens moved in on us.”

  Thank heaven for a provident planetary council. “Good. You take up position in the rear deck. There’s a small gun turret there. I doubt the gun is enough to inflict total damage but while they’re avoiding your hits, I’ll try maneuvering. I’m going to try to get behind them by shooting upwards and spinning around fast. They’ve got a Trillian Clipper, by the look of things. If you can hit one of the side power hubs, it will slow them down enough for us to get away.”

  “Okay.” Poor lad, the romance of the wandering life had just blown up in his face. Adlet swallowed and nodded. “What sort of gun is it?”

  “I honestly don’t know. Something not frightfully up to date, I imagine. Ships like this do their best to avoid confrontation.” Or another hit on the side. Odd really, the impacts were slight, as if they intended to slow them down, not actually blow them out of the universe. So what? It was an unprovoked attack and they were hitting back with the little they had.

  “Get in there, Adlet. Put your zipsuit on first, and I’ll try to evade. Remember what I said I was going to do? Lifting up and dropping back, you go for a power hub. Two if you can.”

  “I will,” he replied and ran.

  Ferda hoped a few weeks or months of target practice was enough to get them by.

  Adlet fought the urge to throw up, crap and pee all at once. He didn’t have time for any of them. As he ran down the narrow hallway to the tiny gun turret, another hit glanced off the hull, so close the noise deafened him for a moment or two. He raced the last few feet, pulling on his suit and zipping it before he realized he was still barefoot. No time to go back for shoes. He climbed into the gunner’s roost and strapped himself in.

  Ferda had been right. The gun was close to antique, but clean, well maintained and fully armed. Rand didn’t let anything go. As Adlet fired up the cannon, another missile whizzed close as the ship veered sharply. Aiming at a moving target while his own ship was zigging and zagging was going to be a whole different game from hitting a target on a holo-screen.

  He had to do this. Had to hit the power hub. Everyone, Rand, Ferda, and Drake, depended on him, and apart from target practice he’d never hit anything other than small game animals. But once he had the attacker in his sights, an odd calm descended on him.

  An entire ship was bigger than any small game, wasn’t it?

  He took careful aim, pulled the trigger, felt the recoil as a missile launched and watched as it overshot the target and headed for deep space.

  This was not like target practice.

  As he closed his hand on the trigger a second time, the ship shot up at a forty-five degree angle. How Ferda managed that he’d never know, but it got them out of the way of a couple of missiles. Not for long. The attacking ship was smaller, faster and probably twenty years newer. As Adlet looked down, it was already maneuvering to compensate, so he sent off two shots in fast succession. One went wild; the other grazed the tip of a back fin. Not enough to make any difference, but as the ship turned, he had a perfect shot at the rounding bulge of a power hub. He sighted, fired. And missed as the ship took a sharp turn.

  Damn!

  No time to swear. He took sights again, holding steady as they banked even more sharply. He fired and was rewarded with a most gratifying explosion. He’d taken out the power hub. But as he watched, the attacker righted itself and headed toward them, angling upwards as if to ram them.

  Adlet let off a rain of shots, and all missed.

  Damn! He shouldn’t miss at this angle.

  Their ship banked again, the engines grinding in protest, and they were above their attacker. Adlet didn’t hesitate. He aimed right at the second power hub and watched in satisfaction as the shell took it out with a nice big blast.

  “Bravo, Adlet!” Ferda called on the ship’s com. “Hold tight. They’re not going to be happy. Might try to take it out on us.”

  Hold tight was the word. The ship shot hard to port, then accelerated with a whine that stung his ears. She had to be burning the engines, but they were racing. He clung to his perch and wondered how the hell even vampires could sleep through all this.

  When the ship stilled, or at least stopped racing, Adlet unbuckled and slid down from his perch. His legs barely held him up and now he really did want to puke. His stomach clenched and pulsed with the beat of his heart. He’d never have made it back to the bridge if he hadn’t had nice convenient bulkheads to hold onto.

  Ferda greeted him with open arms. Literally. She pulled him to her and hugged. “Adlet, you were magnificent! They’ll never come after us now. Not with half their power out. And I’ve found a nice, obscure parking place while we patch things up.”

  “We’ve incurred damage?”

  “Yes, but slight. I’ll check it in a minute or two. We need to look at the cargo too.”

  “Yes.” She was absolutely right, and was still holding him as he was shaking like a stray fragment caught in an air tunnel.

  “Upset?” she asked.

  “Yes. I don’t know why but…”

  “I am too, Adlet. Combat does that to you. And you surpassed yourself. Held them at bay for over two hours while I maneuvered.”

  Two hours? “Seemed like minutes.”

  “Combat does that to you. I think it’s the mind’s way to block panic and fatigue, but it took the better part of two hours to evade them. They weren’t about to give up easily.”

  “Why go for us at all?”

  “I don’t know. They were an odd sort of pirates. No demands we stop or let them board. It was as if they were playing with us. Until you got in a hit that is. That rather changed their attitude. I don’t think they expected us to be able to counterattack.”

  He was still shaking. Couldn’t seem to stop.

  “You need a shot of Restore and a little lie down,” Ferda said, steering him off the bridge and toward his quarters. “It’s shock. You’ll be all right.”

  “What if they come after us?”

  “We’d be in trouble. But with two power hubs gone, they’ll be lucky to hobble home, much less give chase. Hold on a jiffy.” She paused by a galley service panel and held a straw to his lips. “Drink this.”

  It was sweet and heady. “What is it?”

  “Restore. A rather handy potion. It will stop your shaking.”

  She was damn right. By the time they covered the few meters to his cabin, his legs were steady and his mind clear. Sort of. In fact, his mind was spinning. Ferda’s arm was strong around his shoulders, and her breasts soft and warm against his arm.

  He’d never been that close to a woman’s breast and longed to reach up and touch, just to see if they were warm and as soft as his elder brother, Arden, once claimed.

  As she lowered him to sit on his bunk, his arm brushed her breasts. Ferda stepped back, but he grabbed her, pulling her toward him so she ended up half on the bunk, half on him. Driven by a wild urge, he kissed her.

  It was different from Rand.

  Her lips were soft and warm.

  Her body hot against his.

  He pulled her closer, amazed how her breasts flattened against his chest, and kissed her again. This was incredible. Different. She was so soft, so warm and…

  “Adlet!” Ferda pulled back just as he slid his hand up to cup her breast. “Behave yourself! Have you rocks for brains?”

  It wasn’t his brain that had gone hard. But he felt his erection wither as she scowled down at him.

  Damn, she made him feel like an obstreperous child. “What?” he asked, as she gave him a shove back onto his bunk.

  “Adlet, think. If you can through the fog of that damn Restore.” She shook him and glared.

  “What?” he repeated. His mind was mushy and racing at the same tim
e.

  “Adlet, think! We’re both currently on a ship in deep space and we’re both blood bonded to vampires. Different vampires. Have you any idea how territorial vampires are? And how one might react if his territory is poached? Ever faced an irate vampire?”

  Adlet just stared blankly. “They get pissed, huh?”

  A voice behind her said, “They do.”

  Drake! Adlet’s blank eyes all but popped out of his head. Ferda swiveled. Drake stood in the doorway, giving them both an object lesson on how an irate vampire looked. His eyes were almost red and his face appeared set in white marble.

  But he wasn’t ripping them limb from limb. Yet.

  No point trying to deny what he’d obviously witnessed. “I gave Adlet too much Restore.”

  “Indeed? Often give him a dose when we’re out dead, do you?” He’d stepped into the room and stood a meter or so from them.

  “Only when Adlet needs it after a couple of hours manning the gun whilst we evade pirates.”

  All right, it was a bit snippy and decidedly over dramatic but her nerves were on edge. She should probably have given herself a dose.

  “Pirates? We incurred damage?”

  “Some, but we’re safe. That’s why we’re off course.”

  “Where are we?”

  Vamps were cold when they chose. “Somewhere on the rim of the outer space lane beyond Farant Station.”

  That finally got a reaction that wasn’t imminently threatening. “That far out? What happened?”

  Adlet finally got his voice back. “We were attacked and hit.”

  “So that’s what woke me. Takes something to rouse me from dead sleep. Damage?”

  This would be far easier than explaining why she and Adlet had been locked in a passionate embrace. “We took three or four glancing hits but no major damage. Two of the hits were below decks. I need to check the cargo. Haven’t done that yet.”

  “I can see why. Come and check it now. And Adlet…”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Man the bridge.”

  Adlet fairly raced. Restore did speed one up. As Ferda reached the doorway, Drake closed his hand on her arm. “I saw everything.”