Free Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Prisoners of the Wind by Unknown Page B

midnight lover leapt to his feet,
stomping over to the command chair and flopping down so savagely, the entire
console shook. She sat up, watching him work the com array, his face angry and
set.
    “Put your clothes back on, wench,” he ordered, but not with
the same tone he demanded Tarnes tell him from where in the cosmos the unknown
ship was coming.
    Marin got up and retrieved her jumpsuit, stepping into it
quickly as the Fiach sped recklessly through space. She stumbled a few times as
he changed course, rushing them back to the Revenge , but managed to
snatch her bra and stuff it into the pocket of her jumpsuit so no tell-tale
sign of their lovemaking might inadvertently be left behind.
    “Is it my mother you think?” she asked, as she slid on her
shoes.
    “Someone sent by her,” he growled. “Take a seat and buckle
in. I don’t want to be out here and unprotected in any case.”
    Fearing for him but not for herself, Marin sat down in the
chair beside his and latched herself in. Her heart was pounding but when she
looked over at him—took in the powerful build of his naked body—her mouth went
dry.
    “Stop thinking those thoughts,” he commanded, sparing her a
quick sideways glance. “I can’t be hearing that right now.”
    Marin blushed for her thoughts had, indeed, been of his body
and what he had almost had time to do before they’d been interrupted.
    Careening through space at a speed she didn’t believe was
either safe or prudent, Marin sat silent and tried to keep her thoughts from
the sensual man so close to her. She ached to touch him, to feel his body atop
her own.
    “Don’t, wench,” he pleaded, and she could hear the
hopelessness in his voice.
    “I’m sorry,” she apologized, and tried to keep her mind on
the asteroids flashing past the Fiach’s windshield.
    Something rocked the ship—a percussion wave that dipped the
craft downward for a moment.
    “Bitch!” Drae yelled, his hand on the com array. “Her
daughter is in here with me!”
    There was silence then an imperious voice came over the vid
com. “Lay to and allow us to board.”
    “Go fuck yourself, you leispiach bitch!” Drae insulted the
speaker. His fingers raced over the command keyboard and the Fiach shot forward
even faster.
    “Sweet Aneas!” Marin yelled at him. “You’re going to tear
this ship apart!”
    “Have faith in the Gearmánach engineering, wench. This
machine isn’t anywhere near her limits!”
    Though it had seemed they were far from the Revenge ,
the prison transport suddenly appeared right before them, tracers of laser
cannons firing to either side of the Fiach, rippling the space around the
expensive ship and making for a very bumpy ride.
    “Blow the bitch out of the sky!” Drae yelled.
    “Please don’t,” Marin pleaded. “She’s only doing her—”
    There was a loud explosion behind the Fiach and the ship
buckled forward, heading straight for the docking bay iris that was revolving
open.
    Marin threw her arm up, for the Fiach was racing through the
docking station and headed straight for a solid sheath of titanium wall.
    Drae felt the terror in Marin’s mind but he was too busy
bringing the ship under control, slowing it down, and by the time he did the
Fiach was a mere few inches from the wall toward which it had been hurtling. It
hovered there—engine idling.
    “Mother of Alel,” the Tiogar whispered, his breath coming in
gasps and his body drenched in a fine sheen of sweat.
    Marin opened her eyes to stare horrified at the wall that
seemed close enough she could reach through the windshield and touch it. She
felt moisture at the seat of her jumpsuit and knew she’d wet herself.
Slowly—very, very slowly—she turned her head to look at the man sitting rigidly
beside her. “Don’t,” she said, her voice low and shaky, “you ever do that to me
again.”
    Drae nodded, unable to speak. He, too, was staring at the
wall into which they’d come very close to splattering themselves.