Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (the rosie project .txt) 📕

“I don’t know,” whispered LaRenna. Even the quietest of conversations blasted inside her head.

“Sure you do.” Cance pressed her dagger to LaRenna’s throat. “The Blackmore is head of the Commitment’s Eyonnic fleet, has been since I served. An active Kimshee knows the codes. Think hard.”

“No.”

“Tch, tch. Such disrespect so close to ignominious defeat. I suggest you give Cance what she requires.” Talmshone cast LaRenna an intolerant smile. “Her fuse is burning sparse and so is mine.” He pressed his rough-scaled face against the side of hers, the skin cool in comparison to his pungent breath. “I do admire your bravery, LaRenna. Iralian justice would reward your courageous behavior with painless death followed by the grandest of banquets in your honor. But regrettably, we are not in Iralian space and I have not indulged in fresh meat for an extended period.” The Iralian spread his gargantuan hand across her knees, flexing his fingers a minimal amount to demonstrate their sheer power, digging his talons into her flesh to prove his point. “You are still quite young and tender, my dear, and so very tempting to my hungry midsection that I will happily make a meal of you if you do not concede.”

“Give them what they want, LaRenna.” Trazar glanced over his shoulder long enough to see fear leaching through the stubbornness in his sister’s pale eyes. As brave as she might be, she must comply. “He’ll hurt you in ways Cance never could.”

“4 breakbar 72 matka 1l2 call over kol 6.”

“Got it.” Cance entered the codes with a light skim of the symbol board. “Now we know how to get information from her.”

“Indeed we do.” The Iralian removed his hand, but continued to hold his face tightly against hers. “I will not repeat my demonstration a second time.” LaRenna stared straight ahead, breathing heavily. “There is nothing left for me to lose and a full stomach to gain. Do you comprehend what I am saying, young female?”

“Yes.” Sweat dripped from LaRenna’s temples, stinging the scrapes in her eyes. She was afraid of him in an infinitely different way from Cance and rightly so. Iralians were known for consuming their prisoners piece by piece while keeping them barely alive. An honorary banquet was just that, with the dead the centerpiece and main course.

“Excellent.” Talmshone lounged back and picked at his yellowed teeth with a talon. “There is a time to be noble,” he observed, “and a time to think of survival. The difficulty is deciding which applies to the situation at hand. I believe you made the wise choice, young LaRenna. My stomach growls with disappointment, but my mind approves.”

As Talmshone spoke, the launch’s database finally produced the information Cance requested. She read it repeatedly, smacking at the screen a little harder with each run through. “No, no, dammit. No! NO!”

“Is there a problem, dearest Cance?” Talmshone sounded particularly smug with himself.

“Damn right there is, you double-dealing water serpent.” Cance aimed her bow at him. “The Blackmore has retreated behind the truce line. I’m stranded!”

“I believe that should be plural, Taelach.” Talmshone’s eyes whirled with anger so red they flared purple. He blinked once, then again, then pointed toward the humming bow. “You can fire on me if you see fit.” He shrugged indifferently. “But, consider this before you do. You miss, you will blow a hole in the launch and we all suffer. Hit your mark, and I will most assuredly rip your arm off before you can trigger a second.” Taelach stared at Iralian, each anticipating the other’s next action.

Cance’s prock levels had receded to the extent that she shook. “Or, I could do you like I did Starnes.”

“You try and I will once again remove part of your anatomy, most likely your head.” They stared at each other for several more tense moments, Cance’s tongue giving periodic clicks of aggravation.

LaRenna opened a weak link to her brother, sending a tickle down his spine. Maybe they’ll kill each other.

Wouldn’t that be poetic justice? Trazar picked up on the mental touch and embraced it, hoping LaRenna could hear his thoughts. Keep still no matter what happens.

I hear you, she replied. Where am I going to go? I’m trussed up like a roast for the spit.

That’s what we’ll both be if Talmshone gets hungry enough.

Not funny, Trazar.

It wasn’t meant to be. Now rest your head. This must take incredible effort.

You have latent empathic abilities I can tap into, so it’s not too difficult. But Trazar pushed for honesty. Okay, okay. My head is splitting.

I should say it is.

Was that a joke?

Yeah, a really bad one. You have a prock hangover. I’ve seen it in sentries returning from post on Trimar. They have to try it just once before they go. Idiots. They had a choice. Close the link, little sister, and save your strength. As their mental tie broke, a low chuckle began to rise from Cance. She lowered her bow and broke out in a hysterical laugh that prompted an even more aggressive stare from Talmshone.

“Would you look at us?” she cackled. “We’re at each other’s throats when the answer is right here with us.” She crawled halfway across the seat, grabbed LaRenna’s face, forcing a full, passionate kiss into her mouth. “I would have enjoyed a small bite with that, lover.” Cance’s mouth curved in perverse teasing. “Talmshone, we forgot our backup.”

“You intend to part with your woman?” Talmshone inquired as he watched Cance draw a generous recharge from her inhaler.

“They’ll think I am.” Cance nodded toward Trazar between puffs. “But that won’t be what they get.”

Talmshone’s leer turned gruesome. “Apologies regarding my earlier indiscretions. It appears you do indeed have matters well in hand.”

“Always did.” Cance pushed a momentary phase into LaRenna. You’re mine, LaRenna, from now until forever. Accept the love I give. I’m your sole protector from the universe. I’m the only one who cares. Cance sighed with the phase’s release and held the inhaler to LaRenna’s