Chapter Eight
“This is a disaster!” Kaemon shouted, shattering his glass against the wall.
Tayker stared. There goes a piece of my finest crystal.
“It may appear that way, but again, I have saved the day.”
The younger man whirled on him. “You better have, old man, because I’ve been thinking about Syri’s sweet pussy all day long, and now you’re telling me the old man sent her off to the blue planet! What if Rayden is sliding into her right now? What if she brings him back before I can be named Khar? Will the people even accept me without her at my side?”
Tayker sipped his own spiced warlic. “I was able to plant a Spyre on her craft before she left.”
“And why in the fjik should I care about that?” he said, his voice dangerously low.
“Because very soon not only will the Spyre I planted go after Rayden, but it will activate all the ones we planted before, relaying to them my new instructions.”
Kaemon froze. “So, soon he’ll be dead?”
Taykersmiled, glad he was finally catching on. “Precisely.”
Silence stretched between them.
But at last, Kaemon spoke, “And what of my mate?”
The older man shrugged. “Syri will need to return, to be mated right away…and guess who will be here waiting for her?”
Kaemon threw himself into a chair, a slow smile dawning on his lips. “Everything is falling perfectly into place. Before we reach the new planet, I will be Khar. Syri will be my mate, and Rayden will be dead.”
Pouring him a new glass, Tayker handed it to the man who would soon rule his people. “And we will be gone from this dreadful ship, finally free on our new homeworld.”
The two men clinked glasses in a toast, pleased that all their puzzle pieces were falling into place.