Free Clan and Crown by Tracy St. John Page B

his lips as he watched
sweating bodies twine together in lascivious knots. The sex workers
were a talented lot for the most part, turning fucking into a
sinuous ballet of entangled limbs. The crowd’s cheers were not
halfhearted in the least. Egilka wondered which brothel these
prostitutes came from. It would be worth a visit. His gaze filled
with one green-skinned Duhi, her six long-fingered hands easily
handling the male Plasian lying beneath her on one of the stage’s
platforms. She simultaneously stroked his cock, finger-fucked his
ass and mouth, pinched his nipples, and spanked his ass. He writhed
under her bidding, his black-marble eyes glassy. Egilka rubbed his
stiffening cocks, thinking about how delicious it would be to be
ravished by a woman with six arms. How equally delicious it would
be to play with the four full breasts that ran the length of her
torso. The heat in the square seemed to rocket up another ten
degrees.
    The Imdiko might have remained
distracted had he not spotted the two large creatures lumbering
with a purpose through the crowd before him. Onlookers cried out as
the pair of Tragooms stalked through, but they jumped out of the
way quick enough. Egilka curled his lip. Damned awful creatures.
With ugly, warty, snouted faces, bad tempers, and smelling like
rotten dung to boot, Tragooms were no one’s favorite species. They
crossed borders, attacked when they sensed weakness, and stole
others’ technology for their own uses. They thought nothing of
raping and killing just for fun. Even the Galactic Council of
Planets turned a blind eye when its members slayed Tragooms with no
provocation. The only line the governing body drew was attacking
the Tragoom home world with no motive.
    Dantovonians loved money, and they had
no compunction taking it from any species. Dantovon was one of the
few planets that had commerce with Tragooms. Still, being
universally hated kept the monstrous bastards from coming to the
pleasure planet in large numbers. It was odd to see them
about.
    There had been two outside the brothel
the day before, wearing Bi’isil collars. Egilka’s eyes narrowed and
he strained for a closer look at the hide-wearing pair plodding
through the crowd. The brutal sun reflected a gleam from their
necks. Yes, this pair wore metallic collars. Were these the same
Tragooms enslaved to Ru’imbu?
    The Imdiko wove through the crowd,
looking the pair over closer still as he closed the distance. He’d
not taken a long, lingering look at the Tragooms outside the
brothel yesterday. His intent had been to escape the irate Bi’isil
prince and get Clajak away as well. He couldn’t be sure these two
were the same pair.
    His breath caught to see one holding a
long bar in its cloven-fingered hand. There was a loop of
retraction wire at the end of it. A capture noose. The Tragooms
hunted, looking to catch prey of some sort. From the way their
rounded snouts stuck in the air with nostrils flaring, they tracked
a particular quarry, one whose scent they’d caught. They were
making a beeline for their victim.
    Evil premonition filled Egilka’s gut.
He looked in the direction the Tragooms headed. Sure enough, he
caught sight of a familiar steel-haired head. Clajak stood in front
of the performing Duhi, a big appreciative smile lighting his face.
He had no idea doom was coming on him fast.
    Egilka shoved his way through the
crowd, panic making his heart hammer. The congestion closest to the
stage thickened, holding him back. There was no way he’d get to the
prince before the Tragooms slipped the noose around the Dramok’s
neck. But he might be able to reach the Tragooms before they got
Clajak.
    A battle-trained Kalquorian could take
on several Tragooms in hand-to-hand combat. Egilka was not
battle-trained. He was a research scientist, an Imdiko who had
taken a few fighting classes with self-defense in mind. Egilka
would be no match for the pair of aliens that towered over him,
each weighing twice as much as