Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,63

attack or experiencing technical difficulties, space travel was inherently boring.

This was different. He wanted to be doing something. Even if it was making covert reconnaissance runs on the palace. At least that would get him out of the house and away from Klara’s scent. The trouble was, he felt like he should stay put in order to protect her. Even though Velkma had said they were well protected right where they were, putting all of their eggs in one basket, no matter how well guarded, seemed unwise. Perhaps he and Temfilk could stay somewhere else. A different base of operations as it were.

Looking back, he realized he should never have spent the night with Klara. The mating process made everything more complicated, not to mention fraught with frustration.

Hindsight being 20/20 and all…

The speed with which it all happened was mind-boggling. Matings normally took time to develop. Weeks at least, sometimes several months. Not overnight, and certainly not within an hour of their first—

Except it wasn’t their first time. Not really. There had been an exchange of blood and snard both times. Apparently, that was all it took. In fact, it was a wonder she hadn’t conceived that very morning.

Talk about a pairing that was meant to be.

“Damn.”

“What’s up, Moe?”

Until Temfilk questioned him, Moe hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. “Nothing, really. Just mulling over the futility of fighting against fate.”

“Pretty deep subject for the breakfast table,” Nexbit said around a mouthful of some porridge-like substance Moe had yet to identify. “Might want to hold off on that until later.”

“I agree,” Temfilk said. “We had enough of that shit yesterday. I vote we take the day off.”

Moe snorted. “And do what, precisely?”

“No idea,” the Norludian replied. “But anything’s better than all the talking we did yesterday. About wore me out.”

“You’re only tired because you weren’t the one doing the talking.” Following a nod in Temfilk’s direction, Nexbit aimed a long-suffering look at Moe. “He about wears me out sometimes. I’ve considered turning into a rock just so he wouldn’t know I was there.”

“I always know,” Temfilk drawled. “I can hear you breathing.”

Nexbit’s response was an atonal hum, which Moe took to be the endpoint of the discussion.

Interestingly, Moe felt a twinge of the old anger resurfacing. Beating the daylights out of a few Nedwuts was sounding better by the second. Merely stunning the ones that had burned them out of their hideout wasn’t nearly as satisfying as punching the furry beasts until their ugly snouts bled. And while cool heads and careful planning might be essential components of a successful revolution, there was nothing quite like unleashing one’s fury on some deserving individual. A face-off with Pelarus would’ve been the perfect solution, although a personal confrontation with the big boss man was highly unlikely.

Unless…

He slapped his palms on the table and fixed his gaze on Velkma. “We need to contact the Ladies Auxiliary. Now. I have an idea.”

Chapter 17

Moe had come up with some cockamamie ideas before… No, wait. He’d always been the sensible one. Something had changed. Perhaps it was joining forces with Klara and her gang. Whatever it was, he was not only angry, he was also feeling a tiny bit reckless.

Mom would be proud.

He waved at the poster-covered wall. “We can start with your collection. I’m not much of an artist, but maybe you know someone who is.”

“Okay,” Temfilk drawled. “I’ll bite. You want someone to draw pictures?”

“Yeah. Hopefully better than those drawings of Klara. We can use the back side of the posters.”

“And just what do you want pictures of?” Nexbit asked.

“Some of me, some of Pelarus,” Moe replied. “Maybe some with both of us.”

“And why would you want to do that?” Velkma sounded cautiously hopeful.

“I’m gonna challenge him to a duel.”

Given the freaked-out screeches from her gang, Moe was glad Klara wasn’t sitting at the table. He wouldn’t have put it past her to come crawling out of the bedroom to see what was amiss.

“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” Temfilk declared. “I know you’re good in a fight, but that son of a dwithan would not fight fair.”

Moe grinned. “I won’t be fighting fair, either. I’ll hold back on the speed while I’m fighting the other opponents in the arena, and—”

Nexbit put up a hand. “You do realize that to fight in the arena, you either have to be owned by one of the patrons or get yourself thrown in the dungeons and have to fight your way out.”

“I could go either way,” Moe said