Page 5 of Taken to Lemora
He chuckles. “If Rhorkanterannu wanted to rob you, you’d never know he was there.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I straighten up, clutching his shoulder as a support so hard he winces before prying my fingers off his skin. “That still doesn’t explain who has access to that quantity and from where they acquired it.”
“I saw her approach the Egama and the Oosa as well.”
“I thought that the Egama sold the female?”
“We aren’t sure.”
“But if they did, why would they bid on her?”
He shakes his head. “Egama mercenaries might have sold her. These Egama here are of the federation.”
“Hm,” I scowl, then rub my chin thoughtfully —though what I really want, is to rub my horns.“They wouldn’t have anything to do with one another.”
“Precisely.”
I stare down the hall, thinking back to the Egama giants I saw in the ballroom lurking over the other guests. One-eyed giants with moss-colored skin, they stand twice as tall as I do.
“I pity the female,” I grumble, then I remember that I don’t deal in flesh and I don’t negotiate and I’dneverpay that price for anything,unless, maybe, it comes in a honey jar.I start away from him again. As I do, the base of my horns don’t just heat now, they itch. It’s like the shell encasing them is contracting bit by bit, trying to smash them to pieces.
Tevbarannos blinks at me with his enormous silver eyes, looking young and innocent and confused, more than anything else. “You aren’t even curious to see what she looks like?”
“Nob.”
“Herannathon was right. You’re a real bore, you know that?” He says with a grin.
It irks me, making me want to grin, too. “Pagh!” I shout, shrugging his grip off of my arm. “I don’t have time for this…”
But as I turn to walk out of the tunnel, I’m arrested by the sight of the last being I’d have wanted to see among all the beings in these great and miserable cosmos.Why oh why did they have to elect me to be clan chief? Gorman would have done a fine job!
“Raingar.” The sound of my name in that voice I’ve heard before makes me cringe. I turn down the hall, only to be halted by Tevbarannos blocking the way.
“Move,” I shout at him.
He just stares past me in frustration. “Igmora,” he says and for a few moments — the most painful of my life and that has nothing to do with my horns’ sudden itchiness — we dance around one another, neither moving the respective direction we’d hoped.
My shoulders slump forward before electricity radiates up my spine at the gentle press of treacherously soft fingers against my bare arm just below the arm hole of my sleeveless tunic. My shoulders roll back, double time. My rough skin sizzles under her touch. She knows how to touch a male. How to manipulate. It’s what they do, Igmora and her scaled mate.
“Igmora,” I say stonily, turning to see the female with bright orange skin. Some say she’s part-Hypha part-Voraxian, but I don’t know. I don’t care. All I know is that she’s orange and about as gentle as a whip. She stands slightly shorter than I do, but is waif-thin and covered in a slick fabric that catches light and turns it all manner of color depending on the way she moves. It attracts the eye, but I don’t dare look anywhere but into hers. She sees everything. She knows what males like. But I don’t like anything that can’t be found on Lemora.
I hate everything.
But I like my rock. My rock is nice and the people on it, solid.
She rolls her eyes, the color of pitch, so oily and black. Her gaze flashes to Tevbarannos. She slinks past me, slides her other hand over his shoulder and pulls away from me in the same fluid motion. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for you. I come with some news, Tevbarannos. For a small price, I’d be willing to give you a viewing. It won’t be as…intimateas the viewings some of the bidders will receive, but I’d be willing to let you have a look to confirm your…” She casts a dismissive glance in my direction before pulling Tevbarannos past me and dropping her tone so that I can no longer hear it. She has his attention —all of it— and then she…they both…she…she…
She turns her back on me.
I…I am not a particularly proud male, but I don’t like that. I hate it. And I do something unexpected. Instead of keeping silent and continuing my hunt for the exit, I shout, “A decent male prefers his female strong and salt of the earth! Not a fragile pet that he had to pay an obscene amount of kintarr for!”
“Alright, Raingar,” she says without looking over her shoulder at me. “I am aware of your feelings on the matter. You don’t need to worry about receiving an invitation from myself or my mate. I wouldn’t dare dishonor your Lemoran sensibilities.”
“You…I…pagh!”
“The exit is down the main hall to the right. I know that’s what you’re looking for, anyway. Goodbye, Raingar. Good luck with your…negotiations.” She glances at me over her shoulder and offers a smile that’s either menacing or filled with humor. With her, it’s hard to tell the difference.
Then she and Tevbarannos disappear around the corner. I follow. I follow them out into the main hall but where they go left, I go…well, I don’t go anywhere at first. I just stare in the direction they’ve disappeared wondering what’s unnerving me more — my curiosity, my pride…or my horns.I’m touching them again. The itch has settled into that stultifying pressure that I despise more than Igmora and the sum of her unsavory parts.
