“Are you nervous? Captain Ghost Gadget?”
He’d given her a droll stare. “Of course I’m nervous. Never met parents before. At least not intentionally.”
She’d scowled at him. “Meaning?”
He’d flashed his most charming grin at her. “Well … there was this one time when Dad came home early while I was at university. Wouldn’t have been so bad had he not been one of my professors.”
“Oh my God! Bas, tell me you weren’t?”
“What? Naked? Of course I was. Her, too. Needless to say, flunked that class.”
Her laughter had ended in a sympathetic groan. “Well, keep it in your pants, flyboy. I’ve already warned them about you.”
“Meaning?” he asked, using her favorite phrase she had anytime she wanted more information on the given topic.
“Oh, c’mon. Like you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“That you’re the friend everyone has to explain before they meet you and then apologize for afterward.”
“Oh gee, thank you.”
Bastien smiled at the bittersweet memory. Ember had been the only person he’d ever met who could make him laugh while she insulted him. Tell him to go to hell and make him look forward to the trip.
You were ever a woman of multiple, unique talents.
And he would love her forever.
She was still on his mind when he finally reached the main Gort base and asked the hostile controller for permission to land. Obviously not something they granted out of routine procedure like most bases. And judging by the amount of time between their communications, it must be taking an act of the gods for them to clear him.
Eternity passed before the woman returned with the permission he needed to land in their North Bay. There was no missing the shocked disbelief in her voice as she told him he’d been approved.
Wow, Jules … paranoid much?
Then again, he couldn’t blame him, given the number of beings out to end his life.
As soon as Bastien landed, he spotted Jullien waiting for him with a man and woman he didn’t know. Hard to miss his cousin’s gargantuan ass, even among the huge Fyreblood Andarions who called this place home. Only their species could make Bastien feel like a middle-schooler, since they dwarfed him. It was weird not to be among the tallest in a group.
But they put his genetics to shame.
Bastien removed his helmet and jumped to the deck, then made his way over. He pulled Jullien in for a brotherly hug.
Jullien laughed when he saw that while Bastien had trimmed his beard down to shadowed whiskers, he’d kept his long hair and wore it pulled back into a messy ponytail. “What is this?” He tugged playfully at it.
Bastien shrugged. “A reminder that I’m no longer civilized, and I have no intention of ever again playing by anyone’s rule book.”
“I understand. And I take it by your presence here that you’re no longer tagged?”
“No,” he said gratefully. “Syn Wade pulled it out of me. Finally.”
Jullien’s jaw dropped in shock. “Really?”
Nodding, Bastien clapped him on the arm. “Really long story short, they ended up on Oksana with The League hot on their ass, and I got caught in the cross fire. After a lot of bruising and damage and a couple of near-fatal catastrophes, it ended well for me.” His gaze went to the exceptionally beautiful and pregnant female standing beside his cousin.
Even without an introduction, he had no doubt that this was Jullien’s wife—the Gorturnum Tavali’s vice admiral. Her white-blond hair was identical to Vasili’s and her silvery-white eyes and fangs definitely marked her as one of the rare Andarion Fyrebloods who’d been exiled from their empire by Jullien’s grandmother.
Jullien stepped back. “My much better half, Ushara. Shara, my cousin Bastien.”
He inclined his head and bowed respectfully to her. “Impr? turu, Ger Tarra Samari.”
She gaped at Bastien’s formal Andarion greeting. “You speak Andarion?”
Straightening, Bastien winked at Jullien. “Not really. Just a few key phrases here and there that Julie taught me when we were kids.”
“Impressive, nonetheless.” Ushara gestured to the tall, dark-haired man beside her. “And this is Trajen.”
Surprised that the high admiral of the Gorturnum Tavali would deign to be here, Bastien didn’t miss the way those dark eyes probed everything about him.
Yeah, nothing got past this man. He had the mark of a well-trained soldier who’d been through hell and lived to tell about it. There was also a refinement to him that said he’d been noble born. That innate grace and bearing that seemed to come from their genes.
Bastien held his hand out to him. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Trajen hesitated before he shook his hand. “And you … Highness.”