Page 1 of Zahhn's Mate
Chapter 1
LEONA
I awake drenched in sweat,convinced I’m not alone. Yet a glance around the brightly lit room reveals no one. I sigh with relief and place a hand over my racing heart. Inhuman growls echo in my mind, a remnant of the strange dream that just ripped me from sleep. Each time I blink, I see a pair of purple eyes set in a face obscured by shadows. It’s the same thing every night, the growls and the purple eyes and the overwhelming masculine presence.
What’s causing the dreams?
Am I actually communicating with some kind of creature?
Knowing I won’t be sleeping anytime soon, I take a deep breath, slip out of bed, and get dressed. Then I depart my quarters and slink through the corridors of theJansonna, the worldship that houses the last of humankind.
After climbing down the tubes to Deck Nine, I head for my favorite viewing alcove. I draw the curtain shut, perch on the bench, and proceed to gaze at the Darrvason fleet. Awe fills me as I study the fifteen massive ships.
It’s not lost on me that the odd dreams began shortly after the Darrvasons made contact with my people. And if the dreams aren’t enough to make me question my sanity, my growing fascination with the alien fleet is.
Ever since the Darrvasons showed up, I’ve found myself sneaking off to privately gawk at their vessels every chance I can get. Morning, noon, and night. At present, it’s past curfew and I shouldn’t be outside my quarters, but I can’t resist. There’s a pull inside me, something inexplicably strong that draws me to the viewing alcove multiple times a day.
I’m most captivated by theHaxxal, the lead ship in the Darravson fleet. It’s as though I’m missing something important, a vital piece of myself, and if I don’t go searching on theHaxxal, I very well might go mad.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair as I consider the tension on the worldship as of late. I was born on theJansonnaand I’ve lived here for my entire life, yet I cannot recall a time when so much fear has permeated the vessel.
Waiting. It’s like we’re waiting for something big and terrible to happen.
TheJansonnaisdead in the water, so to speak, to borrow an old Earth phrase. Nearly out of fuel, we’re unable to make the jump to hyperdrive. The water filtration system also keeps breaking down, environmental controls constantly malfunction, and an uncontained gas leak has rendered the five lower decks uninhabitable. Water and food are being rationed at historically reduced levels, and only the wealthiest on the ship—elderly Founders and their descendants—are able to receive medical care.
And in our time of need, the Darrvasons just happened to show up. I know the aliens have already met with Captain Warren and the rest of the human worldship’s command team, but beyond that it’s difficult to decipher which of the wildrumors I’ve heard about the Darrvasons’ continued presence might be true.
It’s obvious that negotiations of some sort are taking place. Humankind needs help and clearly the technologically advanced Darrvasons can provide it, but at what cost?
What sort of payment are the aliens demanding in return for their help?
Shivers rush through me as I think about the rumors. I’ve heard everything from the aliens wanting to keep humans as slaves, to the aliens being a vampiric race that craves our blood, to the aliens wanting human women for breeding purposes.
This last rumor causes me to flush and squirm in my seat, though I’m not sure why. I’ve never engaged in the act of physical congress. I don’t know what it feels like and whether it’s a pleasurable experience.
On theJansonna, fornication has been outlawed for decades, and we’re all given hormone suppression shots to keep us from havingurges. Whatever that means. Rather than being conceived the old-fashioned way—the dangerous way, or so we’re told—babies are conceived in a fertility lab. Reproduction is strictly controlled, and couples who desire a child must submit an application.
Yes,couples. We might not be allowed to consummate our relationships, but couples still get married on the worldship, whether for companionship, tradition, or to seal alliances between families.
I cover a yawn, but despite my growing fatigue, I don’t depart the alcove. My gaze remains riveted to theHaxxalas the longing seems to pulse harder inside my chest, and for a reason I can’t fathom, my upper arms feel warm and almost itchy.
Just another hour, I tell myself. Then I’ll go to bed.
As I scoot closer to the viewscreen, footsteps abruptly sound in the corridor. I freeze and hold my breath, praying whoever itis will walk by the alcove without peeking behind the curtain. My heart races and my palms become sweaty.
As the footsteps grow nearer, murmuring voices reach me as well. Shit. Multiple people. If they’re walking in a group after curfew, they must be security officers.
Relief swarms me when they move past the alcove, and I slowly, very quietly, release a long breath.
Close. That was too close.
Given how I spend my evenings—managing an illegal bar on Deck Twenty-Two known as Leona’s Speakeasy—I really should be more careful. The last thing I want is to run afoul of the law and draw unwanted attention to myself. Being out after curfew is generally considered a minor offense, but I can’t afford a fine and I dread the prospect of spending even one night in the brig.
Just as I refocus my attention on theHaxxal, the alcove’s curtain is pulled back with a flourish. I gasp and spin to face the intruder.
Cold shock grips me. It’s not a security or morality officer. Oh no, it’s so much worse than that.
Commander Hampton, the first mate of theJansonna, looms above me wearing a menacing smile. Given his reputation as a corrupt asshole, he’s the absolute last person on the ship by whom I’d want to be caught.
