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  And this was just Saron, a stopover planet. She couldn't begin to imagine what Elysia, the trade center of the quadrant, might be like. But she was determined to make her way there, after seeing to the crucial disposition of her virginity. The odds of her uncle or the Leors coming after her were too great to put that off.

  First order of business was getting currency and making a few purchases. She needed to find a jeweler and sell a stone from one of her daggers, then buy new clothing and rent a room where she could rest and clean up.

  Then on to the Pleasure Dome, to seek temporary employment as a courtesan. She should be safe from harm there, as she assumed that they screened their clientele. Yes, that was the best place to take care of her most pressing problem. Steeling herself, Eirene put her plan into action.

  * * *

  "The equipment you're seeking is very rare. So far, I haven't been able to find any." Celie Cameron sipped her drink, regret in her dark brown eyes. "I suspect if we do locate such items, they will be very expensive. I'm sorry."

  "I don't understand why you can't find equipment that analyzes electromagnetic distortions," Jarek said. "Surely it's necessary to map out undeveloped sectors of the quadrant. And what about superconductors? Don't we use them in our intraquadrant hyperspace routes?"

  "I don't understand, either. I thought the same thing you did." Celie leaned forward, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Unfortunately, the Controllers place more emphasis on dominating the quadrant and sucking it dry than exploring and mapping new regions."

  "The greedy bastards aren't exactly visionaries, are they?" Blake commented.

  "No, they're not," Celie agreed. "Very little exploratory equipment is manufactured. As for our internal hyperspace, it's all artificial, and the equipment to maintain the tunnels is manufactured on an as-needed basis. All of that is done under strict surveillance."

  "What about the worn-out equipment that's replaced?" Jarek asked. "Could it be overhauled and rebuilt?"

  Celie shook her head. "I checked on that. The equipment is immediately melted down and recycled. Waste not, want not."

  "Yeah, right," Jarek muttered. He suspected the recycled materials went into weapons. Murdering Shielders and any dissenters was high on the Controller priority list.

  "I wish I had better news. I'll keep looking and contact you if I find anything." Celie placed her hand on his arm. "What will you do now?"

  He blew out his breath, frustration a raw ache in his chest. "I don't know. I'm not giving up, that's for sure. But I'll probably head for Liron and get everything settled there. Where are you going next?"

  "I’m leaving for Risa, first thing tomorrow. As a matter of fact, I need to get some supplies loaded on my ship. I'd better call it a night." Celie pushed away from the table and stood. Both men rose with her.

  She hugged Jarek, and he kissed her on the cheek. He'd known her since she was a young girl of sixteen seasons, had watched her grow into a fine young woman. He thought of her as a sister. "Thanks, sweetheart," he said. "Tell Moriah and that no-good mate of hers that I said hello."

  Celie grinned, the expression making her look hardly old enough to be piloting her own supply ship. "I will. And I won't tell you what Sabin says about you." She turned to Blake and offered her hand. "Commander. It was nice meeting you."

  "My friends call me Blake," he replied, taking her hand in both of his. He gave her his most engaging grin, the one that ensnared most females.

  "I'm sure they do." Celie gently disengaged her hand and flashed Jarek another smile. "See you around. Have a good trip to Liron." She strode from the bar, seemingly oblivious to the multiple male stares fixed on her stunning figure.

  Blake let out a low whistle. "Damn, she's a looker."

  "She's also very intelligent—too smart to get entangled with the likes of you. She's too young for you, anyway."

  "I'm not that old," Blake muttered. "So, do we have the evening free before we get started?"

  "Yeah, you're free until 0800 hours standard time tomorrow."

  "Great." Blake turned, slung his arm across Jarek's shoulders. "Since you won't let me flirt with the lady smuggler, I have another idea. We've been working pretty hard these past cycles. What do you say we go to the Dome for some R&R?"

  Jarek was taken aback by the suggestion. He had never availed himself of the services of the Pleasure Domes. He didn't have the time or the precious miterons required for such decadent pleasures. Nor did he have any desire to purchase an act that should be given freely between a man and a woman.

  He shook his head. "No thanks. I need to send some communications and plot our return course to Liron. You go on."

  "Hey, you need some down time, too, Captain. It will do you good."

  Good? Jarek no longer believed there was much that was good in this Spiritforsaken quadrant.

  He started to refuse again, but Blake headed him off. "Come on. Don't be such an old Shen." He jingled the coins in his flightsuit pocket. "I won a big pot playing Fool's Quest here at Solaris yesterday. I have more than enough for the two of us to enjoy an evening at the Dome, and still give some to the cause. Those communications and navigation duties can only take so long. What will you do for the rest of the time?"

  What, indeed? Jarek thought. Endure another lonely night shift, filled with grief over his father and dark fears about Shielder survival?

  Because of his obligations and the continual dangers he faced, he never allowed himself to become involved in a relationship, much less consider taking a mate. He had nothing to offer except the strong possibility he wouldn't return from any given mission. He'd had only a few sexual relationships, and those occurred before responsibility had become such a heavy cloak.

  He was sick to death of being alone, of battling memories of destruction and despair. What would it be like, for once, to lose himself in mindless physical release? To find warmth and comfort in the arms of a woman without duty or commitment? Just once.

  Weary and emotionally battered, he felt his resolve wavering. Just once. For tonight—no burdens, no accountability, no nightmares. He nodded. "All right, let's go."

  Blake whooped loudly and strode toward the bar's exit.

  Jarek followed more slowly, already doubting the wisdom of his capitulation. It couldn't hurt anything, he told himself.

  It was just one night.

  Chapter Two

  "Are you sure you're okay?" Lani asked, her high-pitched voice grating on Eirene's tautly-strung nerves. "You seem jittery."

  The courtesan who had been chosen to introduce Eirene to her new surroundings was nice enough, but she seemed to be somewhat scatterbrained. Eirene took a deep breath. It didn't help much; her pulse continued racing. She wished her beloved mentor was still alive and here to guide her.

  Rayna had recognized Eirene's rare powers when she was very young, had taught her the necessity of keeping them secret and using them only when imperative. She'd been like a mother to Eirene, guiding her into adulthood and teaching her ancient healing techniques. But Rayna was gone, and Eirene had no one to advise her now.

  "Eirene, are you all right?"

  She jolted back to the present. "Oh, I'm fine. Just getting used to working in a different environment, with new clients."

  Lani giggled, the sound overly shrill, and a blunt reminder that the virginity disposal business was close at hand. Very close. "Oh, sweetness, the clients are the same wherever you go!" she trilled. "I don't think that will be any adjustment for you." She fluffed her blue hair around her shoulders and her very generous breasts. The blue feathers cloaking her small frame swayed with the movement. "Where did you say you worked before?"

  Eirene paused, still trying to assimilate the other woman's appearance. She'd never seen so much blue—hair, lips, feathered headdress and robe—all blue. Actually, she'd never met anyone remotely like Lani. Despite the oddity of the petite woman's appearance, Eirene sensed a good heart and kind nature. Lani harbored no malice or ill will of any sort
. She had generously taken Eirene under her wing—so to speak—going so far as to share her cosmetics and perfume.

  "Sweetness, surely you've got previous experience at this," Lani prompted, her face scrunching in concern. "I mean, you didn't have any personal toiletries, and just that one robe. You can use some of my feathers, if you like. Most men find them very… stimulating. And you just wouldn't believe the things the right man can do with feathers."

  "Oh, no thank you," Eirene answered hastily. "I don't usually—ah—work with feathers. As I told Madam Zandra, I don't have much with me because I managed to get a seat on an earlier transport than I planned, and my personal items are on the later transport."

  Lani still looked concerned. "Have you worked at other Domes?"

  "I've been many seasons at The Tent of Women." Eirene had told Madame Zandra the same thing, but the woman hadn't been totally convinced. Greed won out, however, cementing her decision to hire Eirene. The madam had clearly broadcast her hope that Eirene's striking looks would be a draw, despite her questionable credentials. Madam Zandra was a businesswoman, first and foremost.

  But Lani appeared to believe Eirene. She nodded in ready acceptance. "The Tent of Women. That sounds very interesting and very exotic."

  Eirene thought of the ragged tents in the women's compound on Travan, the dust blowing through the frayed fabric. Of the women there, worn down from serving men's voracious needs, from the harsh living conditions, and from bearing too many children. Sadness joined the trepidation churning in the pit of her stomach. She vowed to herself that one day she would return to Travan in a position to make some changes.

  She looked around the boudoir to which she had been assigned to perform her job as a courtesan, the place where her next actions would ensure her freedom. Its conspicuous opulence rivaled her uncle's residence. A mirrored alcove ensconced a huge satin-draped bed, on which soft pillows were artfully arranged. A plush sofa sat against the opposite wall. A vibrachair, large enough to hold two, or possibly more, sat next to a console containing Elysian wine and liquor, glasses, and an assortment of sexual "accessories." That's what Lani called them.

  Having firmly assured Madam Zandra she had no exotic sexual specialties, Eirene hoped her client wouldn't be interested in using any accessories. Not that it mattered, because she intended to use her powers—just a little—to enhance the client's lust, forcing him to finish the act quickly.

  She was scared of channeling energy, but more frightened of the mating act. Hopefully, if she could use just enough energy to inflame the client's libido without hurting him, he wouldn't notice her lack of experience—or her virginity.

  A tone sounded, and the panel by the entry lit up. "Oh, you've got a client already!" Lani sashayed over to the panel and indicated the display. "This will give you all the information you need to know about him. His name—first name only, of course—his race, his—ahem…personal preferences."

  Oh, Spirit. Her heart pounding, Eirene walked over and read the information. A humanoid male, Jarek, had purchased the whole evening. He didn't state any unusual preferences.

  "Oh, lucky you!" Lani squealed. "You got an easy one your first night here. He's human. That's better than having an alien."

  "An alien?" Eirene pressed her hand against the display to steady herself. She hadn't even considered that possibility. "You mate with aliens?"

  Lani shrugged, her feathers fluttering. "It's really not so bad. And some have very interesting … abilities. But I refuse to take the slimy ones."

  Eirene shuddered.

  "And your client is staying all night. That's good," Lani continued, seemingly oblivious to her revulsion. "Of course, Madam Zandra always limits it to three in one shift. She wants us fresh and perky for the next night."

  Three in one night? Now Eirene vaguely remembered Madam telling her that. Panic began to build in her tense body. Spirit, what was she doing here? A chime sounded—her entry panel.

  "He's already here. He's an eager one!" Lani patted Eirene's arm. "I'll clear out. Have fun." Balancing on her high spike heels, she strutted toward the panel adjoining their chambers.

  Eirene battled the urge to drag Lani back and beg her to take this client. Lani turned at the panel. "Oh, yes. There are alarm buttons by the bed, the couch, and the vibrachair. If your client gets out of hand in any way, use one to call security. Madam doesn't like for us to be roughed up or hurt. Ta-ta!" She was gone in a flash of blue feathers.

  Alarm buttons? Roughed up? Hurt? The building knot of panic exploded and raced through Eirene's body. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. She didn't know anything about mating. Well, actually, she knew how it was done, but—

  The chime sounded again, a death knell from her perspective. No, she told herself firmly. This was a necessary step toward the freedom she sought. She was merely divesting herself of her most valuable known commodity, reducing her bartering value, and keeping herself out of the hands of the Leors. It would be far more dangerous should the fact she was an Enhancer be discovered.

  Telling herself to stay calm, she opened the panel. She wasn't wearing heels, and she wasn't tall to begin with, which put her eye level with a masculine chest. Adrenaline resurged, and she froze, looking straight ahead. The black flightsuit her client wore fit snugly, emphasizing nice muscle delineation. He was solid, but not barrel-chested or overly developed like many Travan males.

  "Hey. I'm up here." His voice was pleasant, deep and quiet, but she thought she detected a hint of nervousness.

  Reluctantly, she raised her eyes. He was tall, his build sleek and lean. And he was relatively young, she realized, perhaps thirty-five seasons of age. He was clean-shaven, with dark eyes and wavy hair the color of rich brown yarton wood.

  He studied her in return, his perusal sliding over her face and down her body. She steeled herself, expecting the rush of lust she was accustomed to picking up from men, and felt nothing. At least, no emotions. He radiated energy, as did all living things. She felt the warmth of his body, and sensed a calm well of strength within him. But no emotion—no lust, no anger, or joy, or even the nervousness she had heard in his voice.

  She tried to compose and center herself. Her fear was interfering with her powers. She couldn't control this situation if she couldn't lock on to his thoughts and feelings. And she had to be very careful, so she wouldn't hurt him.

  "I'm Jarek Ra—" he began then stopped, as if suddenly remembering no last names were given at the Dome. Madam Zandra had that information, of course, along with the client's ID disk, which was held until the transaction was completed to the satisfaction of both parties. "I'm Jarek," he finished lamely.

  Eirene didn't respond, trying again to link with his mind. Why wasn't it working?

  He turned his head sharply as if he heard something, his body tensing. He stared down the corridor one direction and then the other. Startled, she halted her linking attempt. He looked both directions again, shook his head as if to clear it. "That's odd." He took a step forward. "May I come in?"

  She nodded and moved back, not used to a male asking permission for anything. He stepped into the chamber, and she backed up farther. Again, she became acutely aware of his vibrant life force, strong and focused. She'd only ever felt such strength from Rayna, her mentor.

  The automatic panel slid shut behind him with an alarming, final thud. He glanced around the room briefly before his dark gaze settled on her. Eirene couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She felt like a kerani caught in a snare.

  He didn't move, either. Uncertainty flickered in his brown eyes, and she realized he was unsure how to proceed. Perhaps he didn't purchase pleasure at a Dome often. An experienced courtesan, like Lani, would have known exactly what to do to put a client at ease, to get on with it.

  As a matter of fact, she felt certain Lani would never be at a loss for words—or feathers. But Eirene had no idea what to do next, except to try to spur Jarek into lust and a mating frenzy. Once again, she attempted to tap into his psyche. Nothing.
It felt as if she had slammed against a wall.

  Immediately, his attention shifted from her. He strode around her and checked the chamber thoroughly, beneath the furniture, in the lav. One hand rested lightly on one of the weapons strapped to the black utility belt encircling his waist. He stopped by the panel adjoining Lani's chamber. "What's in there?"

  "That's another courtesan's chamber," Eirene replied, giving up her attempt to link.

  Jarek scanned the room again, although he visibly relaxed. "Strange," he muttered.

  "What is?"

  "Ah…it's nothing." That dark gaze returned to her. He moved closer, halting by the vibrachair. "Sorry if I alarmed you."

  She couldn't think of anything to say. She simply stood there, trying to collect her wits.

  "You're Eirene, right?"

  She liked his voice, the way it resonated. She nodded, still unable to speak.

  "You're very beautiful," he said quietly.

  Adrenaline began snaking through her, sending her heart pounding. She wet her parched lips with her tongue. "Thank you."

  This was it. She was going to lose her virginity to this man, but her plan had failed. She would not be able to cut this short by overloading his senses. She shouldn't be surprised; she'd long ago proven her ineptness at controlling her powers. Her attempts to use them had no effect on Jarek. Oddly enough, they'd seemed to agitate him, almost as if he could sense them. That would be very dangerous, indeed. She clenched her hands and waited.

  "Well, then." He unbuckled his utility belt and tossed it onto the console. Immediately, lusty Elysian music blared through the speakers. He hastily swept up the belt and punched buttons until the racket stopped. "Sorry about that."

  He grinned boyishly, and Eirene's heart skipped a beat. There was something appealing about his clean-cut features. He didn't have the spoiled, dissipated look that accompanied excesses of food and drink and mating; the look most of the Travan men had.