Page 4 of Her Alien Mercenaries
The reddish cast to Zanyr’s skin was the result of the hours he spent in the sun. Back in the empire, it would mark him as a laborer, beneath the notice of the upper classes. Attitudes like that were a large part of the reason Torren had left home as soon as he was of age. He’d been more than happy to put as many light years between him, his controlling family members, and his home system as possible.
“There’s no accounting for human tastes. But out of curiosity, which one was it?”
“Nathalie, or something like that. She and a few of the others were at the market, trying to figure out what ayakanwas and how to cook it. The vendor’s translator was glitching, so I stepped in to help before they tried to boil the damned things and they exploded.”
Torren snorted. “Bet they didn’t cover that in their introductory courses.”
“They should.”
They both lapsed into silence while Torren tucked into his meal. When he was finished, he pushed the plate away and nodded to his friend. “Thanks for making breakfast. I was on schedule this morning until…” He trailed off and hoped Zanyr would understand.
He did.
“I figured. You were yelling in your sleep last night, too. Bad nights usually mean rough mornings for you.”
“Sorry if I woke you.” He’d been shouting? Torren couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or a bad sign that he didn’t remember anything about it.
“You didn’t. I was already awake.”
Which meant Zanyr had a rough night, too. They shared a look that spoke more than words ever could, and then Torren got to his feet. “You made breakfast. I’ll take care of dinner.”
“Deal. And tonight, we’re going flying. Been too long since we’ve raced the winds.”
“Good idea. Been a few weeks since we both had a bad night. Think there will ever come a time we don’t think about the past anymore?”
“Sure.” Zanyr didn’t sound convinced. “It will probably happen right after we find ourmahaya. Maybe we’ll even manage to win our money back from Yardan the same day. He can’t wineverytime we play cards.”
“Sure he can. He cheats. Spymasters are not to be trusted.”
“But he’s on our side.”
Zanyr snorted. “Not when it comes to cards.”
It took him half a minute to clear his dishes and wash his hands. “See you tonight.” He extended his arm, his hand turned so that the scar on the back of his wrist was visible.
They crossed wrists, pressing their scars, the mark of their blood-bond, together.
“Fair winds and clear skies,” Zanyr said.
“Same to you, brother. We’ll get through it.” How many times had they said that to each other? Probably a thousand or more.
“We always do.”
With that, Torren hurried off. If the winds were right, he’d arrive on time and Saska would have nothing to complain about… but when was his luck that good?
For once, the winds were perfect. He arrived almost two minutes faster than usual. That was more than enough time for him to get to his classroom, and thanks to good planning and some time spent at the school last night, he had nothing left to do but show up and teach.
Students of every age lingered outside, all of them loath to enter the building and begin the first day of school. Some of them cheered as he touched down, while others stared in surprise. Torren was well aware of his reputation among the younglings. According to Director Firt, they viewed him with a mixture of respect and admiration combined with a hint of fear. As far as he was concerned, that was the ideal balance.
He spotted the director in the courtyard and turned toward her, raising his wings in a shrug. He wasn’t late, and that was all that mattered.
The wind shifted at that moment, ruffling his hair and making it necessary to tug at the bottom of his tunic so it fell properly. The director was a stickler for two things—punctuality and professionalism. He could get away with lateness from time to time, but only if he looked and acted as she deemed proper.
The female had missed her calling. She should be running a military camp, not a school for younglings. Then again, given her commanding air and acid tongue, perhaps she had been in the military at some point. That would explain a lot.
His musings slammed to an ungainly halt as he caught a new scent on the wind. Hunger tore through him, as if he hadn’t eaten in days. What thefraxx?
That scent. He didn’t recognize it, but it called to him, demanding his attention. Desire sank sharp talons into his insides. Instantly, his cock hardened, the hunger deepening into something more. Something…
