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Boundless: Pandora, Book 2
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After years of hard work and sacrifice, Aeryn Chase is finally in possession of her own merchant ship. Piloting the Nightshade gives her purpose, security, and most of all, freedom—or so she thought. Touching down on Nekron for a scheduled trade stop, she didn’t expect to be detained by guards or have her ship ransacked, nor did she anticipate meeting the likes of Lieutenant Xavian Tira.
Enlisting the Earthling’s help to track down a fugitive, infiltrate a high-stakes auction, and locate a missing Legacy didn’t figure into Xavian’s plans. With the clock ticking and no alternatives, he reluctantly agrees, but from the moment they arrive on Earth, things only go from bad to worse. As Aeryn’s life hangs in the balance, Xavian is faced with an impossible decision—the death of one, or the death of many. But how can he possibly choose between the woman he loves and the survival of an entire race? |
Excerpt
“Who is this trader anyway?”
Vane glanced sideways at him as they trekked the open pathway to the purple lights of Sector A. “You’ll see.”
Xavian heard the yelling before he could “see” anything. An angry, female voice rose up over the wind, her threats and insults growing more imaginative with her increasing volume. Rounding a private vessel plated in chrome, he finally got his first glimpse of the owner of the voice, and what he saw had him hurrying his footsteps.
One of the new recruits was on the ground, his face forced down on the tarmac, while a lovely human female wearing a hideous green sweater pressed her booted foot against the side of his neck. In her right hand, she held a coil gun—an Earth projectile weapon that fired energy pulses at varying strengths—on another recruit, but she didn’t look at him as she berated the male under her boot.
“If you ever touch another member of my crew, I promise it will be the last thing you do. I’m assuming you have a mother, yes?” When the guard didn’t answer her, she pressed her heel more firmly against his throat. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”
“Yes,” the male bit out through gritted teeth.
“And I’m also going to assume she taught you some kind of manners.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Perhaps you should stop embarrassing her, then. Don’t you think?”
Cursing under his breath, Xavian jogged toward the small group gathered on the tarmac outside of a large, black cargo ship with Vane right behind him. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. “Let him go.”
Now in the thick of the situation, Xavian noticed not only the guard on the ground and his companion, but the two other soldiers near the back of the craft—both glassy-eyed and unmoving as a Crimnian male with long, bright-red hair circled them. Dressed in brown leather pants and a dark knit sweater that hugged his lean frame, he looked up, meeting Xavian’s gaze, his shining silver eyes flecked with swirls of the darkest black.
Next to the Crimnian, two females had their heads bent together in conversation. A human with dark blonde hair and a delicate jaw glanced at him, but she diverted her gaze quickly. The other female, however, glared at him and Vane with open hostility through blood-red irises, while her slender, black tail flicked behind her with agitation. The two ridges across the bridge of her nose raised as she bared her teeth, and golden, spiral markings writhed over her dusky skin, pulsing like a heartbeat.
It had been a while since he’d seen a Jurdanian on Nekron, and even longer since he’d met one this angry. “Let him go,” he repeated to the female in the ugly sweater. “And someone tell me what the hell is going on here.”
With a crinkled nose, the female slowly lifted her foot at the same time she lowered the coil gun. Staring Xavian in the eye, she took a measured step back. She didn’t raise her hands or show any other signs of surrender, but she did—eventually—holster her weapon.
The guard on the ground bounded to his feet, and the other took an aggressive step toward the female.
“Stand down!” Xavian barked. “That’s a fucking order.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” the two newbies answered in stereo. They still looked tense, and they didn’t sound happy about the command.
Xavian didn’t really give a shit. “Miss—”
“Captain,” she corrected. “Captain Aeryn Chase. You can call me Chase.”
Xavian blinked several times, trying to reconcile the picture he’d constructed in his head with the beauty standing before him. He gauged the female to be nearly a foot shorter than his own six-foot-four, and though difficult to tell beneath the baggy, shapeless sweater, her face and hands appeared slender, almost delicate. Far from some lined and wary pirate, she had a soft, circular face with high cheekbones and big, round eyes.
His gaze kept traveling back to her mouth, to her full, pink lips. Her upper lip stretched a little wider than her bottom, looked just a little plumper, giving her mouth a heart-shaped appearance. As he watched her, his own lips began to tingle in response, and a strange current rippled up his spine, effectively cutting off anything else he might have said.
“Chase, what happened?” Vane asked, shoving past the two soldiers to stand directly beside her.
Xavian growled, the sound low…dangerous.
When he realized it, he pressed his lips together and jerked back. No one else had seemed to hear or notice him, a fact for which he was immeasurably grateful, because he didn’t have any logical explanation for his behavior.
“I’ll tell you what happened,” Aeryn answered, her tone sharp with an undercurrent of bitterness. “I was informed the Nightshadewould be searched upon landing. Not the norm, but I accepted it.” Her upper lip curled, and her nose wrinkled across the bridge. “Then these two assholes get here, along with Fuckhead One and Two over there.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the two officers still staring dazedly into the night. “They insist I take off my jacket so they can search me.”
Xavian’s gaze raked down over the swell of her hips to her long, slender legs, and finally fell to the crumpled fabric just to the side of her booted feet.
“I complied,” she continued, “until they wanted me to take off my sweater as well.” She glared at the guards again. “Those two idiots over there start throwing crates off the back of the ship like it’s a halftime show during a game of fieldball. My tech engineer tells them to knock it off since we don’t exactly get paid for damaged goods. Fuckhead One there grabs her by the arm and shoves her to the ground. You arrived about twenty-seconds later.”
A shadow descended over Vane’s face as he turned to the two closest guards. “Is that what happened?”
While the males tripped over each other trying to justify their actions, Xavian marched over to the female and stooped to retrieve her coat from the ground. It was covered in dust and cold to the touch, but he shook it out and held it up for her. She studied him with a furrowed brow for a long time before she nodded and turned to slip her arms into the sleeves one at a time.
“Thank you,” she muttered as she zipped the jacket and flipped the hood up to cover the top of her head. “Aeryn Chase.”
“So you said.” Xavian offered his hand. “Lieutenant Xavian Tira.”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, the hunter green irises shining with amusement. “Under the circumstances, I can’t say it’s a pleasure, but still…”
Trailing off, she took his hand, her soft palm pressed against his, her grip firm. Electricity sparked between them, a pulse that zinged up Xavian’s arm and ricocheted around in his chest. Despite the temperatures, her touch spread warmth over his skin like rays of sunlight.
Vane glanced sideways at him as they trekked the open pathway to the purple lights of Sector A. “You’ll see.”
Xavian heard the yelling before he could “see” anything. An angry, female voice rose up over the wind, her threats and insults growing more imaginative with her increasing volume. Rounding a private vessel plated in chrome, he finally got his first glimpse of the owner of the voice, and what he saw had him hurrying his footsteps.
One of the new recruits was on the ground, his face forced down on the tarmac, while a lovely human female wearing a hideous green sweater pressed her booted foot against the side of his neck. In her right hand, she held a coil gun—an Earth projectile weapon that fired energy pulses at varying strengths—on another recruit, but she didn’t look at him as she berated the male under her boot.
“If you ever touch another member of my crew, I promise it will be the last thing you do. I’m assuming you have a mother, yes?” When the guard didn’t answer her, she pressed her heel more firmly against his throat. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”
“Yes,” the male bit out through gritted teeth.
“And I’m also going to assume she taught you some kind of manners.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Perhaps you should stop embarrassing her, then. Don’t you think?”
Cursing under his breath, Xavian jogged toward the small group gathered on the tarmac outside of a large, black cargo ship with Vane right behind him. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. “Let him go.”
Now in the thick of the situation, Xavian noticed not only the guard on the ground and his companion, but the two other soldiers near the back of the craft—both glassy-eyed and unmoving as a Crimnian male with long, bright-red hair circled them. Dressed in brown leather pants and a dark knit sweater that hugged his lean frame, he looked up, meeting Xavian’s gaze, his shining silver eyes flecked with swirls of the darkest black.
Next to the Crimnian, two females had their heads bent together in conversation. A human with dark blonde hair and a delicate jaw glanced at him, but she diverted her gaze quickly. The other female, however, glared at him and Vane with open hostility through blood-red irises, while her slender, black tail flicked behind her with agitation. The two ridges across the bridge of her nose raised as she bared her teeth, and golden, spiral markings writhed over her dusky skin, pulsing like a heartbeat.
It had been a while since he’d seen a Jurdanian on Nekron, and even longer since he’d met one this angry. “Let him go,” he repeated to the female in the ugly sweater. “And someone tell me what the hell is going on here.”
With a crinkled nose, the female slowly lifted her foot at the same time she lowered the coil gun. Staring Xavian in the eye, she took a measured step back. She didn’t raise her hands or show any other signs of surrender, but she did—eventually—holster her weapon.
The guard on the ground bounded to his feet, and the other took an aggressive step toward the female.
“Stand down!” Xavian barked. “That’s a fucking order.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” the two newbies answered in stereo. They still looked tense, and they didn’t sound happy about the command.
Xavian didn’t really give a shit. “Miss—”
“Captain,” she corrected. “Captain Aeryn Chase. You can call me Chase.”
Xavian blinked several times, trying to reconcile the picture he’d constructed in his head with the beauty standing before him. He gauged the female to be nearly a foot shorter than his own six-foot-four, and though difficult to tell beneath the baggy, shapeless sweater, her face and hands appeared slender, almost delicate. Far from some lined and wary pirate, she had a soft, circular face with high cheekbones and big, round eyes.
His gaze kept traveling back to her mouth, to her full, pink lips. Her upper lip stretched a little wider than her bottom, looked just a little plumper, giving her mouth a heart-shaped appearance. As he watched her, his own lips began to tingle in response, and a strange current rippled up his spine, effectively cutting off anything else he might have said.
“Chase, what happened?” Vane asked, shoving past the two soldiers to stand directly beside her.
Xavian growled, the sound low…dangerous.
When he realized it, he pressed his lips together and jerked back. No one else had seemed to hear or notice him, a fact for which he was immeasurably grateful, because he didn’t have any logical explanation for his behavior.
“I’ll tell you what happened,” Aeryn answered, her tone sharp with an undercurrent of bitterness. “I was informed the Nightshadewould be searched upon landing. Not the norm, but I accepted it.” Her upper lip curled, and her nose wrinkled across the bridge. “Then these two assholes get here, along with Fuckhead One and Two over there.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the two officers still staring dazedly into the night. “They insist I take off my jacket so they can search me.”
Xavian’s gaze raked down over the swell of her hips to her long, slender legs, and finally fell to the crumpled fabric just to the side of her booted feet.
“I complied,” she continued, “until they wanted me to take off my sweater as well.” She glared at the guards again. “Those two idiots over there start throwing crates off the back of the ship like it’s a halftime show during a game of fieldball. My tech engineer tells them to knock it off since we don’t exactly get paid for damaged goods. Fuckhead One there grabs her by the arm and shoves her to the ground. You arrived about twenty-seconds later.”
A shadow descended over Vane’s face as he turned to the two closest guards. “Is that what happened?”
While the males tripped over each other trying to justify their actions, Xavian marched over to the female and stooped to retrieve her coat from the ground. It was covered in dust and cold to the touch, but he shook it out and held it up for her. She studied him with a furrowed brow for a long time before she nodded and turned to slip her arms into the sleeves one at a time.
“Thank you,” she muttered as she zipped the jacket and flipped the hood up to cover the top of her head. “Aeryn Chase.”
“So you said.” Xavian offered his hand. “Lieutenant Xavian Tira.”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, the hunter green irises shining with amusement. “Under the circumstances, I can’t say it’s a pleasure, but still…”
Trailing off, she took his hand, her soft palm pressed against his, her grip firm. Electricity sparked between them, a pulse that zinged up Xavian’s arm and ricocheted around in his chest. Despite the temperatures, her touch spread warmth over his skin like rays of sunlight.