Both pulled up, slowing to a walk.
While Janwar’s breath huffed in and out in gasps, Simone’s remained as even as if they’d just walked around the track instead. The only indications he could find that she had exerted herself were pink cheeks and a fine sheen of perspiration that gave her skin a minute glimmer.
Laughing, he shook his head.
“What?” she asked, still smiling.
He motioned to her. “There is… a lot of speed… packed into that little body,“ he professed, still trying to catch his breath.
She laughed in delight. “There’s a lot of speed packed into your big body. We tied.”
He shook a finger at her as they continued to walk. “Only because you… willed it. You know… you could’ve easily won.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yes. But you’re the commander.” She gave him a friendly nudge with an elbow. “I figured you’d boot me off the ship if I won.”
He laughed again and shook his head as his breathing finally slowed. “No. I’d just get you to race against Krigara—he’s the only one who comes close to beating me when we race—and bet against him.”
“Ooh. Devious.”
He winked. “Well, I am a pirate.”
“And the masses are all jealous of your booty,” she quipped.
He cast her a quizzical look. “That word didn’t translate.”
“Jealous?”
“No. Booty. What does it mean?”
“Depends. Sometimes it means treasure or stolen goods that are valuable.”
He did possess stolen goods that were quite valuable, most pilfered from the Akseli elite who supported the grunark who’d had his parents and other protesters killed. “And other times?”
She winked. “It means ass.”
Halting, he mentally reran her booty comment. So the masses were jealous of either his treasure or his ass? “Which way did you mean it?”
Grinning, she turned away and headed for the weapons wall, a spring in her step. “Come on. Let’s see if we’re as well-matched sparring as we are running.”
Vuan, she was appealing.
His spirits lighter than he could remember, Janwar strode after her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Simone swiftly fell into a routine in the days that followed. Every morning, she met Janwar, and they shared first meal. Sometimes the other guys joined them. Sometimes they ate alone. Then they continued their tour of the ship.
The Tangata was huge. And just about everything on it fascinated her, even things Janwar considered boring, like the acquisition beam he’d used to bring the Gathendien transport she’d conquered aboard. Smaller acquisition beams controlled by handheld devices were used in the cargo bays to load heavy crates. When she’d asked him how they worked, he’d demonstrated by making her rise off the deck and float around one of the cargo bays while she threw her arms out, pretended to fly, and—she feared—giggled like a schoolgirl.
Once their breakfast settled, they headed for the training room.
That became Simone’s favorite part of the day. They always seemed to have the gym to themselves. She didn’t know if that was by design or happenstance, but she liked it.
She liked him. Janwar.
Simone felt so comfortable with him. In very little time, jogging around the track with him, their arms occasionally brushing, felt like being with an old friend. She’d missed that.
On the Kandovar, she’d had to adjust her behavior around the men so she wouldn’t do anything their culture would view as too forward since unmarried Lasaran men and women weren’t supposed to touch. Her friend Eliana hadn’t been quite as careful, raising eyebrows when she “forgot” the rules and rested a hand on a crewman’s shoulder, clapped a soldier on the back, or nudged one with an elbow.
Some aspects of Lasaran culture reminded Simone of her youth and the tighter social strictures she’d had to abide by, so she and Eliana had shared some laughs over it.
Back on Earth, Simone had often hunted with the same male Immortal Guardians for decades before being transferred to a new location either because she was needed elsewhere or simply wanted a change. Whenever Seth sent her somewhere new, there had always been a brief introductory period in which the immortal men would give off watchful vibes as they waited to see if she might have any interest in pursuing something amorous.
Until recent years, all Immortal Guardians had been turned against their will by vampires, who tended to be particularly brutal with females. Women rarely survived long enough to complete the transformation, so immortal males vastly outnumbered immortal females.
Unfortunately, Immortal male/human female relationships never seemed to end well. Human women couldn’t be transformed without becoming vampires and losing their sanity. More often than not, the mortal woman would grow bitter as she aged and her immortal lover didn’t, accusing him of seeing younger women on the side and driving a wedge between them. Or the two would love each other until the day she died an old woman. Then the immortal would spend decades—if not centuries—mourning her loss.
Relationships with gifted ones were no better since—until recently—the gifted ones had always refused to transform and spend eternity with the immortals they loved. They hadn’t yet understood that vampirism and immortality were spawned by a virus and instead had believed religious claims that those afflicted would be damned.
So many immortal males dreamed of finding an immortal female with whom they could share a lasting, loving relationship.
Simone didn’t blame them. Loneliness was something most of them struggled with.
Yet when nothing romantic developed between them, she and the immortal males she hunted with always settled into a comfortable friendship.
She’d missed that camaraderie and had found it again with Janwar.
Though they were from very different worlds and backgrounds, they shared some surprising similarities. Both enjoyed the simple things in life, like going for a nice, relaxing jog with a friend. Sometimes they chatted. Sometimes they ran in companionable silence. Both loved to tease and joke. They laughed a lot when they were together, often finding humor in the same things. Simone hadn’t realized how much she needed that to keep worry for her friends from overwhelming her. And Janwar…
Well, his life thus far had been full of struggle and strife. He probably needed laughter and light moments as much as she did.
She really liked him… in a way she hadn’t liked any of the immortal males she’d hunted with in the past. Those had always felt more like brothers to her.
But her feelings for Janwar were far from sisterly.
Like right now. The two of them had been sparring for over an hour, bodies brushing, limbs tangling, pulses racing as they challenged each other every chance they could get and admired each other’s skill.
Even that—the way Janwar favored her strength, speed, and skill as a warrior instead of resenting it—thrilled her. There were too many men back home who felt threatened by powerful women. When confronted by one, they would verbally tear her down and disrespect her instead of treating her the same way they would a man in her position. But not Janwar. He was stronger than that. Whenever Simone managed to get the best of him and land him on his ass, he didn’t sulk or bitch and moan. He grinned and looked at her with praise and something more in his eyes.