Page 1 of To Quench Her Thirst

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ADDIE

“Idon’t fucking like this, Addison,” Drago muttered as he reached to check and adjust her five point harness—something he always did before every mission to another planet even though she knew how to fasten it herself. “I don’t fucking like it one fucking bit!”

“That’s a lot of fucks you’re giving there, big guy,” Addie said dryly. “A lot more than you usually give about anything.”

It was true—her Kindred Protector usually had the personality of a granite wall. It was hard to get anything out of him—either negative or positive. He was usually just stoically silent no matter what the circumstances were.

Like that time on Belugias Three where we ended up in the middle of a political riot,she thought. As a Xeno-anthropologist, Addie had been there to study the monarchy of the planet. Unfortunately, she and Drago had ended up in the middle of a rebellion with the common people trying to overthrow the ruling class.

Addie didn’t blame them—all the royals they’d met in the palace had been insufferably entitled. They were literally starving the common people to death while keeping all theplanet’s resources for themselves. But that didn’t mean she wanted to be caught in the middle of the two factions.

She and Drago had been riding in a float in the royal procession to celebrate the new Monarch's coronation when the parade met up with the angry crowd of starving peasants. Addie had been frozen to the spot—right in the middle of the road. She didn't know what to do, but her Protector did.

Drago hadn’t wasted a single minute cursing or worrying or getting upset. He’d simply grabbed Addie off the parade float and slung her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. Then he strong-armed his way through the shouting crowd, pushing protesters out of the way to back to the safety of their ship. Addie didn’t know if anyone else could have managed that—of course, the fact that her Protector was seven feet tall and extremely muscular probably helped. Nobody dared to mess with him.

It had been one of the most frightening experiences of her professional career—hell, of her whole life! But when he finally swung her down off his broad shoulder, Drago had the same stern and stoic expression on his chiseled features that he always wore. He hadn’t been upset or flustered a bit—pushing his way through an angry mob while carrying her over his shoulder was all in a day’s work, apparently.

Addie had been crying by then and to give him credit, hehadpaused a minute to comfort her by wrapping one long, muscular arm around her waist and pulling her close to his broad chest. She had pressed closer, wanting the warmth of his big body for comfort, breathing in his wild, spicy scent that reminded her of the scent of burning leaves in the Autumn. Drago had held her close—but only for a minute. Then he pushed her gently away and got down to the business of piloting the ship.

They had been in other sticky situations—though none as bad as Belugias Three—and none of them had so much as ruffledthe big Kindred’s feathers. But now that they were going to a perfectly nice and friendly planet on an ordinary diplomatic mission, he chose to get upset. It wasridiculous, Addie told herself.

“I don’t think you ought to trust the Vargans,” he growled, as he piloted the long-range shuttle up and through the Kindred Mother Ship’s atmosphere barrier and into the blackness of space. Ahead Addie could see a long red gash—the fold created by the Mother Ship to allow them to move from one part of the universe to a completely different part seamlessly and instantaneously.

“The Vargans are fine—theyinvitedus to visit them on Crimson Moon,” she pointed out. “They even asked for mespecifically.”

Actually, the invitation had been quite flattering—not to mention surprising. It had come from the fact that Addie had been seated next to Lx Sambla, the Vargan ambassador, during a VIP dinner aboard the Mother Ship.

Sambla was a tall, pale man with platinum blond hair he wore slicked back from his high forehead. His eyes were large and dark and mesmerizing and Addie had found herself talking to him through the entire dinner. Of course, she tried to include Drago, who was seated on her other side, in the conversation but her stoic Protector just grunted or gave monosyllabic replies.

At the end of the meal, Lx Sambla kissed her hand and expressed how he hoped to see her again soon. Addie had been enchanted and agreed—she would love to see him again as well.

At the time, she’d had visions of the suave ambassador asking her out on a date. She’d long ago decided that she needed to give up her secret crush on Drago—since after two years of working together it was clear the big Kindred was never going to take an interest in her—and find someone else who was actuallyinto her. Lx Sambla seemed like just the man to help her bury her secret feelings for her Protector and move on.

However, an invitation for a romantic evening together had not arrived. Instead, Addie and Drago were both called into her boss’s office a week later.

Commander Sylvan—the head of the Kindred High Council and also their superior—had explained that they had been invited to witness a special ceremony on Crimson Moon, the Vargan home world.

"The Vargan ambassador, Lx Sambla, explained to me that you had expressed an interest in studying their unique culture, Dr. Hollister," he'd said to Addie. "He has invited you to visit Crimson Moon and attend their 'Queen of Night' ceremony. Would you like to go?"

“Oh, yes!” Addie had exclaimed at the same time Drago had growled,

“Hell, no.”

"Excuse me?" Addie had turned to her Protector, a frown of confusion on her face. Drago had never objected to any of her missions before—he always just went along with her, with that same stoic look on his rugged, chiseled features. But now his dark brows were drawn low over his golden eyes—which had slitted pupils like a cat's—and his mouth was set in a thin line. Even his close-clipped black beard looked angry—if that was possible.

Commander Sylvan was frowning too.

“On what grounds do you object to Dr. Hollister visiting Crimson Moon?” he’d asked Drago.

“On the grounds that I don’t trust them—especially not that slimy little ambassador,” Drago growled. “He’s too slick—too fucking smooth, Commander. Reminds me of a used ship salesman.”

“That’s not true!” Addie exclaimed. “Lx Sambla was perfectly polite to me—andextremelyattentive. Besides, how would you know anything about him? You just grunted when I introduced you and then you were silent as a stone the whole rest of the dinner and didn’t eventryto take part in the conversation!”

“Just because I don’t talk much doesn’t mean I don’tlisten,” Drago rumbled. “That male was feeding you a line, Addison—he was telling you everything you wanted to hear.”

“He was beingpolite,which is more than I can say for you!” Addie snapped. “Why wouldn’t you even talk to him? Maybe if you had, you would have gotten to know him.”

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