Skinny almost choked on the tea Ma had poured for him. Okay, he could deal with Sparky having one brother, but two?
“You have three sons, Ma?” he asked when he could breathe again.
Ma beamed as she sat down opposite with a delicate china mug cradled in her hands. They were elegant and beringed, her short nails painted blood red.
“I do. Marc is the eldest. Jayce here is my middle boy and Scott is the baby.”
“Fucking favoritism,” Sparky muttered into his mug, which earned him a cuff around the ear from his mother.
“Language in my house!”
Skinny suppressed his grin as Sparky squeaked and ducked. The slap was affectionate and made even more amusing by the fact Ma was half the size of her son.
“Always wanted a girl but never managed to carry one to term,” she admitted. “So I have to wait for one of these reprobates to get married and give me a daughter-in-law.”
“Ma! You know I like guys too, so don’t count on me,” Sparky pointed out.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Ma wrapped an arm around her son’s neck as she stood up, dropping a kiss on his ruffled blond hair. “You’ll get me another son. I’m sure of it. Pick a pretty one, though, okay…”
She eyed T’Raal in speculation, causing the big Lathar to almost spit his drink over the table.
“Not me! I mean,” he said quickly as Ma’s expression shuttered, “I’m sure your son is a catch, but I’m not that way inclined. Nothing wrong with it, though, love’s love and all that…”
Skinny had never heard T’Raal lose composure quite as badly or as quickly, but faced with the ire of a mother who could shoot the way Ma did? Yeah, he could understand it.
“Sorry, but you’re more my thing.”
If Skinny could move, he would have face palmed. Twice. Ma looked at T’Raal for long moments and Skinny thought that was it. They were dead. They were going to have to fight their way out of here.
No… they were definitely dead males walking.
Sure, he and T’Raal were both full-blooded Lathar and battle-hardened warriors. A couple of humans should be no problem at all, but he was quickly discovering that being bigger and stronger meant fuck all with some humans, especially ones with the levels of crazy the Allens had.
Then she broke out laughing.
“Oh, bless you.” She reached across the table to pat his cheek. “You’re a cutie and no mistake. If I were ten years younger, I’d climb you like a tree—”
“Lalalalala! Not listening!” Sparky warbled, shoving his fingers in his ears. Ma Allen grinned and ruffled his hair.
“But I’d eat you for breakfast.” She grinned at T’Raal. “Thank you for making an old woman’s day, though.”
“You’re more than welcome,” T’Raal rumbled, eyes twinkling as he took a sip from his mug. “But please, reassess this ‘old woman’ nonsense. When we met I thought you had to be Sparky’s younger sister.”
Oh, by the goddess, he was smooth. Skinny watched as a look of surprise and then pleasure washed over Ma’s face. T’Raal was right, though. The human woman didn’t at all look the age she had to be in order to have adult sons. Humans appeared hung up on the oddest things, like their curves or lack of them and their age.
He’d caught Tank moaning to Lizzie about the silver strands in her hair the other day. He’d noticed them but thought they made her look even more beautiful. Not that he’d mention that in Zero’s earshot. That was a good way to get a vicious sparring session with the big, very possessive cyborg. But did human women not realize that no male worth anything cared about those things? They just loved women, in all their types and appearances.
“Stop flirting with my ma!” Sparky ordered, glaring at T’Raal.
T’Raal just chuckled. “Your ma was the one flirting with me. Isn’t that right, Ma?”
She grinned as she sat back down, putting a computer on the table in front of her. Skinny wasn’t familiar with Terran tech, but like Ma’s weapons, this looked new and top of the line. The Allens were obviously not a family to be underestimated.
“Okay,” she said. “How many IDs do you need and where do you want to be from?”
“That’s it? It’s as simple as that?” The businesslike nature and bluntness of the question took Skinny by surprise.
Ma slid on a pair of glasses and looked over the rims at him. “Yes, why would there be anything else?”
“Well…” he hedged. “I just assumed there would be. I mean, you barely batted an eyelash when you met us, even knowing we’re aliens, so I assumed this part would be much more difficult.”
She smiled as she folded her hands over the still-closed laptop. “Son, I have a simple rule. I don’t deal with assholes. Had enough of that with my late husband, god rest his soul.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss,” he replied automatically.
“Don’t be.”
Sparky snorted in amusement.
At the curious looks from the two Lathar, he elaborated, “Dad was worse than a hundred Ingrassias, but no one did anything because he was top brass military. Used to beat mom when we were kids.”
“And you dealt with it. I assume?” Skinny demanded. If the guy still drew breath after doing that, he would be sorely disappointed in Sparky. So much so, he might have to persuade T’Raal that a little side trip was in order.
“He didn’t. I did,” Ma announced. “Needed a new patio. He’s quite comfortable chilling there in the footings. Set the house to blow as well.”
Sparky grinned at their expressions. “That’s what happens when you marry a former assassin and piss her off.”
T’Raal sat back in his chair, gently rotating his empty mug in long fingers. “I’m impressed. You don’t happen to have any sisters. Do you?”
She snorted. “Burying a husband isn’t as impressive as bringing up three boys single-handedly. Especially when one has firebug tendencies like this one. Burned down our garden shed three times—”
“Twice,” Sparky corrected. At his mother’s look he shrugged. “Third time I took it out with some KET-4 explosive I found under your bed.”
“Ahhh, always wondered where that went,” she commented and looked back at T’Raal. “One sister, a twin. Dead a long time ago. Got a niece but she’s a marine. I think your lot took her. She was on Sentinel Five.”
“Imperial warriors,” T’Raal growled in distaste. “Not like us at all. We’re Warborne.”
“Whatever you say, handsome. Now, let’s get these IDs sorted out. What planet of origin am I putting down?”
She looked up and studied them with a critical eye. “I would suggest Edania. Those crazy bastards are so insular that no one’s gotten a good look at them in years, and they’re into body modification big time so it would explain the…” She waved a hand in the general direction of their faces.
“Sounds good,” Skinny agreed.
Marika had referred to them as Edanian before. It hadn’t made much sense to him at the time, but now it did. If she’d automatically assumed that, even having been on their ship surrounded by alien tech, perhaps it was a cover they could use to operate more freely in Terran space.