Misha brought their drinks, and, grimacing, set Jullien's unopened water down in front of him.
"Thank you." Jullien carefully checked the seal before he opened it.
"Thank you, Misha."
He nodded, then left them alone again.
Even though Jullien had checked the seal, he still smelled the water and placed his finger inside to dip it in a bit of the water to taste for poison or pollution. Then, he pulled a small vial from his pocket and placed two drops in the water and swirled it.
"What's that?"
"It turns purple if there's any poison present. Blue if there's a paralytic. Yellow for hallucinogens."
Ushara gaped. "You do this every time you eat?"
"Only if I don't prepare it." He slid the vial back into his pocket and waited several minutes before he finally sipped the water.
"You didn't do this on board my ship."
"I was too hungry to care, then. Besides, I was already in your custody and at your mercy. Not like you couldn't have thrown me out an airlock had you wanted me dead."
He had a point, but still ... "Were you always like this?"
Jullien shook his head as he continued to study his water. "No. I was suicidal at one time. Didn't care if they killed me or not. A part of me was hoping they'd succeed. The only reason I care now is I'm not about to let some asshole become a millionaire off my back because I laid down and let them cut my throat. They take me in, bastard's gonna earn it and I'm taking an equal amount of his ass to the grave with me." He gave her a lopsided grin. "I'm a contrary prick that way."
She leaned back as Misha brought out her food and put it in front of her. He grimaced as he placed the melon in front of Jullien. "Would you like me to bring you a knife for that?"
Jullien pulled his own out, and twirled it open. "No, thanks. I have it."
Misha beat a hasty retreat.
Ushara suppressed a laugh at Misha's reaction to Jullien's impressive knife skills. "Let me guess ... fear of a poisoned blade?"
"That's what led me to you, is it not?"
Yet another very valid point. Ushara watched as he carefully examined the smooth shell of the melon. And by that, she meant carefully. "Is something wrong with it?"
"Looking for needle marks. Making sure nothing was injected into it."
Her heart sank at his matter-of-fact tone. It was a miracle he ever ate anything, given this amount of paranoia. He even smelled the shell, and rubbed his solution over it to test if something had been placed on it.
Finally satisfied, he cut up his melon. And as with the water, he still examined each piece before he cautiously ate it.
"You sure you don't want some of mine?"
Jullien hesitated. The hungry longing in his eyes was searing. "I would kill for it. But it's not worth the chance of getting sick."
Because he had no one to care for him, and no way to seek medical help. First thing any doctor or nurse would do was run his DNA and prints for medical records. And the moment they did that, it would pop up his warrant and notify them that he was a fugitive. They would be required by law to turn him in.
Aching for the way he was forced to live, she took a bite of her bread, then held it out toward him. "I'll be your food taster."
Jullien paused. Before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth and allowed her to feed him a bite.
She smiled warmly at him, then wiped at his chin. "See? It's delicious, isn't it?"
Honestly? He didn't taste a bit of it. All he could focus on was how beautiful she was and how warm her touch made him feel inside.
She held her fork up and fed him some of her breakfast scramble.
"Thank you."
Inclining her head, she took a bite herself.
His cock jerked as he watched her eat and his thoughts went to a place he knew they shouldn't. But he couldn't help it. No one had ever been this kind to him. All his life, he'd wondered what it would be like to have someone who was nice to him for the hell of it. Not because they wanted something or a favor from his grandmother.
Nice because they liked him.
It was what had made him so mean to others, especially in school. In retrospect, he regretted how he'd treated a lot of his classmates, especially Dancer Hauk. But he still remembered that first day of school when Dancer had shown up and his mother had intentionally sat them together.
"Remember Dancer, this is the tahrs. Be nice to him and he can do a lot of things for you and our family. I want you two to be best friends."
Jullien would give Endine Hauk credit. At least she'd been open about it. Most weren't quite so blatant with their ass-kissing. But then, she was a distant cousin of his mother's. That kind of self-serving, backbiting bullshit ran thick in their genes.
And from that moment on, he'd been hard on Dancer. Suspicious and cold. Never trusting that Dancer was there for any reason other than the fact that Endine had made him tolerate Jullien's presence.
But no one had told Ushara to be nice to him. She had nothing to gain by sitting here. He had no more political ties to use. No strings to pull.
Nothing.
She cut up her ham and held it out for him. When he opened his lips, she playfully jerked it away and ate it instead. "Ha! Fooled you!"
Jullien laughed as her pale eyes sparkled with humor. Shaking his head, he held a piece of melon out to her. "Eat this with it. The juices will enhance the flavor."
Leaning forward she ate it from his hand. His breath faltered as her tongue skimmed the flesh of his fingers and sent another wave of desire through him unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
Holy gods ...
"Mmmm," she breathed. "You're right. It's delicious. How did you know?"
He shrugged. "I spent a lot of time in the kitchen when I was a kid."
"Really? Not exactly the place I would imagine for an Andarion tiziran."
Snorting, he cut more melon. "Haven't you seen the pictures of me when I was Prince Ponderous?"
She choked on her food. "Excuse me?"
"Oh c'mon. You're not going to hurt my feelings. Not like I could miss it. The headlines were in every tabloid and newsfeed the universe over. Tahrs Tub-of-lard. Jiggly Jullien. Prince Jerkllien. Jolt-Head Jullien. And of course my personal fave, Tahrs Junkie eat-it-all Asshole. Whenever I was trying to stay sober, I sought refuge at the bottom of a barrel of cake batter. It was the only safe place I had in the entire palace where no one bothered me." He licked his fingers.
"Sorry."
"Don't be. Best memories of my life were sitting in the kitchen with our cook while she worked. I know she didn't really like me either, but at least she wasn't openly mean to me."
"Then how do you know she didn't like you?"
"Andarion hearing and I moved like a shadow for a fat kid. Heard a lot of things no one knew I did. But at least Karna quit complaining about me after awhile. Sometimes she almost even smiled when I came in. And at least she knew by the girth of my abundant ass that I appreciated her hard work."
Ushara offered him another piece of ham and this time, she didn't pull it away.
"So what about you?" he asked.
"What about me?"
"Who raised you?"
She tried not to react to something he really shouldn't have to ask. The fact that he was sincere with that inquiry said a lot about his world. "My parents. They're Tavali so I was raised here." She took a drink of her juice. "They're both still alive and my father continues to make some runs, but not too many. In fact, that's where Vasili is this morning. He spent last night with them after we got home. And he'll be with them all day. We're not letting him out of our sights for days to come."
"Really?" His voice was filled with disbelief. "He likes them?"
"Most beings like their grandparents, Jullien."
"Do they?"
She laughed at his genuinely shocked tone. "Yes. I promise."
But the expression on his face said that he couldn't quite wrap his mind around the concept of
it. How tragic for him.
He wiped his hands. "Do you have siblings?"
"A large number of them. Three brothers and four sisters."
His eyes widened.
"And brace yourself ... we love each other. Get along famously, most days. In fact, we live in a cluster together, within walking distance of each other's homes. Two of my brothers were even on board the ship that brought you here. The big giant who scowled at the door of the bar when I entered to get Vasili? That was my brother Dimitri."
"I have no ability whatsoever to relate to anything you've just said. I believe you spoke in Universal, but really, all I heard was bleh, blar, blurr, blah, bleakly, blar, blar."
She laughed at his gibberish. "It's true."
"I kind of, almost believe you. Of course I still believe in St. Daner who uses a pair of magical boots to bring presents to kids on Gal Day, too. So what the hell?" The laughter died in his eyes as he looked past her and his gaze sharpened and fastened on someone behind her.
She turned to see what had caught his attention. Crap ... Speaking of her family. Her cousin Lev was headed toward them with his crew. They must have just come in from their latest run. And he didn't appear particularly happy.
With his thumbs in his holster, Lev paused beside her and eyed Jullien suspiciously. "Kyzu," he said in greeting. "I wasn't expecting to see you here ... with a new ... servant."
Jullien leaned back in his seat. It appeared relaxed, but Ushara recognized it for what it was. He cleared the way for a clean shot at her cousin should he need it, under the table.
"Dagger," she said quickly, "May I introduce you to my kyzi Lev."
Jullien's eyes narrowed in disappointment before he returned his hand to rest on the table, letting her know that his finger was off the trigger. He passed her an irritated smirk. "Nice to meet you."
"You look familiar. Do you I know you?"
Jullien shrugged. "I have one of those faces."
"Lev..." Ushara drew his attention back to her. "Is there something you needed?"
Before he could answer, her link went off. She checked it and cursed. "Sorry. I have to take this." Scooting out of the booth, she headed toward the bathroom for privacy.
Jullien didn't move as the large, blond Fyreblood Andarion blocked him in. Because Jullien had yet to expose his fangs or stand up and he'd removed his sunglasses while talking to Ushara, Lev thought he was towering over a man and intimidating him. Dumbass.
"Do you know who she is, schankefrel?"
"I know."
Two other Fyrebloods moved in to flank Lev, while he glared down at Jullien. "We don't like outsiders here. No one encroaches on our females. You don't touch an Andarion, schankefrel. They're off limits to the likes of you. Understood?"
"I'm familiar with the culture."
The three of them stepped back as Ushara returned. Sighing, she grabbed a quick drink. "Sorry, they need me in my office. I have to go."
Jullien inclined his head to her. "It's fine. Thank you for the conversation this morning. And for the gifts."
Her features softened. "Good luck today. Try to make some friends." Then to his greatest shock, she leaned down and kissed his cheek. Turning around, she eyed her cousin and his crew. "Play nice."
But as soon as she was gone, they returned to glower at him.
Jullien let out a tired sigh. "Do I really have to kick your asses my first day here?"
"Lev," the female owner said in warning. "No fire in my restaurant."
"Don't worry, Petya. I don't need it to teach this piece of human waste a lesson."
"Ass-kicking it is." Jullien stood slowly. "Last chance to walk out of here on your own."
Lev hesitated as he realized that Jullien was taller than he'd assumed.
And broader.
For some reason, no one seemed to appreciate his size. He'd never understood why that was. He towered over most beings and yet they didn't seem to comprehend that fact until it was too late.
Like now.
Refusing to back down and lose face with his crew, Lev reached for him.
In one fluid movement, Jullien caught him in the solar plexus, which would preclude him from making fire. Then he punched him in the throat. Catching him, he spun and set Lev into the booth before going after the next one.
Jullien punched and caught him fast, dropping him straight to the floor. When he went for the third, that one wisely stepped back and held his hands up.
"I've got no problem with you, brother."
Jullien cast his gaze around to make sure there were no other threats.
Misha and Petya stared at him, slack-jawed.
"You said you didn't want a mess in your place."
Petya inclined her head to him. "Appreciate it."
Jullien pulled out his wallet and left half his money, hoping the tip would cover the inconvenience. Keeping his back away from the third crewman, he made his way from the restaurant and hoped that he hadn't just signed his own death warrant with that outburst.
If he had ...
His grandmother would be celebrating over his corpse tonight.
As he headed for his new job, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the store windows and winced.
No wonder they'd attacked him. He looked like the worst sort of vagrant dog. Yeah, he was clean. But ragged as hell. Baggy clothes. Second-hand, stained coat that had been patched and repatched to the point he looked like he should be huddled over a flaming barrel with a bottle of hooch near some abandoned factory somewhere. Boots that were held together with electrical tape. He looked down at his bruised hands and torn claws.
You're disgusting! A disgrace to the entire lineage of eton Anatole! No wonder your mother won't come out of her room. Who can blame her? I wouldn't sober up either if I had to face you as my son!
It wouldn't have burned nearly as much had it not been the truth.
Pushing his aunt's harsh criticisms away, he turned the collar of his ragged coat up and headed toward the hangar for work.
When he went inside the office, he caught the clerk's sneer of revulsion, until she focused on his face. Then her look turned a bit more welcoming. "Can I help you?"
"Gunnar told me to report for work this morning."
"Oh ... you must be Dagger. Hold a minute." She got up and went to another office.
When she returned, she was leading a blond male who slowed his walk as he focused on Jullien's form. He raked a calculating stare from the tips of Jullien's scuffed boots to the top of his head. "I was told to make sure and give you a thorough introduction of how we do things. Gunnar said that you knew about ships?"
"I do."
"How much you know about Tavali?"
"General information. Nothing specific."
"If you'll follow me ... I'll show you where you can change into work overalls and store your gear."
Jullien headed into the back with him. As he started to remove his blaster, a bad feeling went through him. Honestly? He'd rather give up a testicle than his weaponry. Testicles he could live without.
Weapons ...
You're being paranoid.
"You can't work in the bay armed. It's against all regulations."
Yeah, that was what he figured. Still ...
Jullien placed his holster and weapons in the locker and followed his manager to the hangar. "Are you the OOD?"
"Yeah. And let me give you a quick tutorial on Tavalian culture and how things work around here. See this..." He pointed to his sleeve where The Tavali wore their national flags, individual Canting and ranks. "Designates the Nation we fly for. The solid black flag with the screaming skull is for the True Black Flag Nation, Gorturnum. That's us. We were the first of the Tavali Nations ever created. The patch under it is my personal Canting, then my rank. These three things mean that I'm a Tavali citizen with rights in this Nation. Notice you don't have any Canting, flag, or rank."
"Yeah. I know."
"No, I don't think you do. See, what that blank slee
ve on your arm means is that you are a slag. Without rank or citizenship. You're not even a cock. So you don't speak to Tavali unless we speak to you. You don't count in our world, and you don't exist. You're a ghost here with no voice and no rights."
Jullien froze as he saw a group of Tavali moving in to form a circle around him.
"You damn sure don't dine with one of our admirals like you hold rank. You don't even look at our females."
"Yeah," another Tavali said behind him. "And you damn sure don't attack a commander, slag. Because you attack one of us. You attack us all. That's what being Tavali means."
"And you ain't Tavali, dog."
Jullien silently winced as he mentally did the math in his head. Not that he needed to. One to twenty ...
This would hurt if they were planning to do it barehanded. The fact they were picking up tools for his beating ...
Fuck it.
He swept his gaze around the group and smiled at them. "Well hell, boys. If I'd known you were throwing me a welcome party, I'd have brought some beer."
CHAPTER 5
Ushara had promised herself that she wasn't going to act like some lovesick teenager with a crush on the latest crooning heartthrob. After all, she was the vice admiral of the oldest Nation of the Tavali fleet. The right hand of the most powerful commander they had. While she was young, she was as jaded as anyone ever born. Wise and strong.
Mature.
She was one of the best of Trajen's pilots. The commander he trusted above all others. She wasn't checking on Jullien over infatuation. Not even a little. It was merely gratitude for what he'd done with Vasili, and she wanted to make sure that he was settling in with his new job and quarters all right.
That was her duty as vice admiral--to ensure that any new member of their station merged well with their society. They had to mesh or be thrown out.
Of course, they didn't normally get such personal service from her, but Jullien had saved the life of her son ... She owed him.
Yeah, she knew she was lying to herself and making excuses for why she was seeking him when she had no business doing so.
No matter how much she denied it, she was drawn to him even though she knew it was all kinds of stupid. There was just something about him that she couldn't get out of her mind. Something about him that touched her heart in a way no one ever had before.
Not even her husband.
Still, she was proud of herself. She'd gone almost two full days without bothering him or spying on his whereabouts. But after two days, she wanted to make sure that he didn't need anything.