Faith and the Fighter

Home > Other > Faith and the Fighter > Page 7
Faith and the Fighter Page 7

by Honey Phillips


  She giggled, she actually giggled, a sound she could have sworn would never have come out of her mouth. Torn between being delighted and appalled, she kept silent, tangling her fingers in his beard and stroking the long silky strands.

  “Why do you grow your hair so long? None of the Elginar at the lab have long hair.”

  “And that’s why right there. There are two castes on Elgin—the fucking scholars and the workers. The scholars keep their hair short and the more extreme bastards shave their heads completely so you can see their fucking tattoos.”

  “You have a tattoo,” she pointed out, stroking the symbols etched across his chest.

  “That came later, after I left Elgin.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  He was silent for a long moment and she looked up to see him staring out the viewport at the stars.

  “My father was a trader, too. Oh, not like this.” He waved at the ship surrounding them. “He had a ship that sailed the seas of Elgin. For the first ten years of my life, my mother and I accompanied him. I fucking loved it. Loved the sea, loved the travel, loved being with my family all the time.”

  “But?”

  He sighed. “My mother is a scholar. I guess the work she could do on the boat wasn’t enough for her. When I was ten, she was offered a research position at the main Center of Learning in Haskol. My fucking grandfather may have pulled some strings to get her in, but maybe not. She’s fucking brilliant.”

  His eyes were focused on past events and she didn’t prompt him, although she was still struggling with the knowledge that his mother was a scholar. Eventually, he sighed again and continued.

  “So, anyway, my father sold his fucking ship and we moved to Haskol.”

  “And he hated it there?” Was that why he seemed so resentful of scholars?

  “My father? No, I don’t think he did. He got a job on the fucking docks. He knew half the people already and he liked it down there. On the other hand, I hated every fucking minute of it. My parents made me go to this fancy-ass school even though I was already a head taller than those fucking little scholar kids.”

  Her chest ached. She knew only too well what it was like to be the different one in the class; the one who was stared at and whispered about. “What did you do?”

  “Skipped school a lot.” He shrugged. “Eventually, I started hanging out at the docks, too, but the docks at the space port. When I was sixteen, I finally managed to find a captain with low enough morals and a good enough eye for an investment that he was willing to make a deal.” He laughed. “Kefniss was a canny old bastard.”

  “You had enough money to buy your passage?”

  “Nah. I sold him the only thing I had. Myself.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, Athtar, no.”

  “Not like that,” he said hastily. “I sure as hell wasn't fucking pretty enough for that.”

  Imagining him at sixteen, she wasn’t at all sure that was true.

  “I made a deal to work for him—five years with no pay except room and board. Or at least that was the plan. Turned out I had a knack for fighting. He entered me in some fights, and I won. Just fucking dockside pits at first, but the fights got bigger. We had a… discussion and I started earning my share of the winnings. That’s when I got these tattoos.”

  The thought of Athtar, chest bared, fighting some faceless opponent had a curious effect. Part of her was appalled, but another part of her was unexpectedly turned on. It might be barbaric but her primitive self reveled in the idea of her man as a triumphant warrior.

  “What happened then?”

  “Like I said, Kefniss was a smart bastard. He set up the fights, arranged the bets, didn’t fucking steal too much from me. We worked together for more than ten years. And while we were flying around the fucking galaxy, I learned everything there was to know about ships. When I had enough money to buy one, I quit.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yeah. I’m a good fucking fighter but it’s not what I wanted to do with my life. The ship, the freedom—that’s what I wanted.”

  “Like when you were young,” she said slowly.

  “I reckon so.” He turned his gaze from the stars and looked at her. “I spent the past fifteen years building up this ship, this crew, my business. I’m not about to fucking give it up.”

  Something in her throat hurt, but she swallowed hard. It was just as well she knew where he stood. She had her own plans, after all. Her voice was calm when she responded. “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “Women never tell you they’re gonna try and fucking change you, but they always do.”

  An unexpected flare of jealousy appeared. “Had a lot of experience with that, have you?”

  “If you’re asking me if I’ve fucked a lot of women, I’ve had my share. More when I was fighting. I was young and my dick was always hard and there’s a certain kind of woman who goes for fighters.”

  “You don’t need to fill me in on all your conquests.” She wondered how long it would take to program his sanitary unit so it would only emit freezing cold water.

  “No, baby. You don’t understand. Once I got my ship, I never had much time for that sort of thing. And I never met a woman who made me even consider giving it up.” There was an unspoken before in his words that made her heart started to pound, but he kept going. “That’s why I’m not worried about you taking advantage of me. I’m not my father, content to work on the fucking docks and wait for my mate to come home.”

  There were so many implications in his last statement that she could only stare at him. Packing them away to consider later, she pulled what dignity she had around her like a cloak.

  “And like I said, I didn’t ask you to. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  His teeth bared in an expression too feral to be called a grin. “I don’t think so. I’m not fucking through with you yet.”

  “I don’t care. I—Oh.” His mouth had gone unerringly to the spot on her neck which made her brain disconnect, even as he was pulling her against all that hard, naked muscle. “Oh, what the hell. I’m not through with you, either.” And she raked her nails down his chest, sighing happily when he roared and rolled her under him. It was a long time later before either one of them were through.

  Athtar lifted a sleeping Faith gently off of his chest and tucked her down in his pillows. She murmured a little then settled down. Fuck, she looked right lying there in his bed, just as she’d looked right on his bridge. But if nothing else, telling her the story of his past had reminded him why it would never work between them. This was a temporary arrangement, nothing more. Ignoring the discontented feeling in his chest, he went off to find Precious. His war beast was on the bridge, curled in his chair.

  “I think she thinks she’s the captain,” Ultana said. She was the only one on the bridge, sitting in her usual spot, monitoring her console and playing a game on her tablet.

  “Probably so. Any problems?” he asked as he scooped up Precious and sat down again with her in his lap. It was a routine question, but he didn’t really expect a response. While they were in transit, the only issue they were likely to run into was encounters with other ships. Since he was obeying the emperor’s orders, he didn’t expect the Fleet to suddenly appear.

  “I’m worried,” she said slowly.

  “About what?”

  “About this whole thing. I don’t like being involved with the Imperial politics, even if we’re doing their bidding.”

  He tugged his beard. “I don’t like it, either. Once we’re done, we should go do some trading on the fucking outer rim for a while.”

  “Done with what, though? Delivering the prisoner? Or trying to destroy the weapon?”

  “I told you you’d get a fucking vote. If you don’t want to go, vote against it.”

  “And is that going to be the end of it? Or is your lady scientist going to want to go chasing after some other villain?”

  “She’s not my fucking lady scientist
.” The words felt wrong in his mouth. She was his, even if it was only for now.

  Ultana gave him an openly skeptical look. “Are you sure about that?” Before he could answer, she kept going. “I like this job. I’ve been with you for a long time and you’ve earned my loyalty. But I want to be trader, not a hero.”

  He had hired Ultana after the scumbag owner of the ship she had been piloting had tried to sell her to pay off the ship. She’d taken care of the owner but was left without a job in a dingy little outpost. Their original agreement was for one voyage. Ten years later, she was still here, and he didn’t want to lose her now. “You think I want to be a fucking hero?”

  “A man will do a lot for a woman he loves.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Ultana, I’ve known her for two days. Give me a fucking break.”

  She shrugged. “My mother and father were mated three days after they met.”

  “Well, I’m not fucking mating her, understand?”

  “Yes, Captain,” she said, but she was clearly not convinced. What the fuck was wrong with everyone? So he was attracted to Faith. Why shouldn’t he be? With that mind and that body, she was perfect for… perfect for him. Fuck. He was screwed. It’s just temporary, he reminded himself.

  The temporary part was increasingly difficult to remember as the days passed. His nights with Faith kept getting better, her passion equal to his own. And when she fell asleep in his arms afterward, he was filled with a deep contentment. During the day, she was everywhere. She spent long hours on the bridge with Ultana, and despite the other woman’s original concerns, he could see that she was won over by Faith’s intelligence and enthusiasm. Kanithe had decided that she approved of her and had taken it on herself to try and teach Faith some self-defense moves. He had watched one of their sessions but between cringing every time Faith stumbled and getting annoyed every time Kanithe ordered her around, he had decided to make himself scarce during those times.

  Studoc, of course, already liked her and Athtar fought a constant battle with himself when he knew they were together. He wasn’t really worried about Studoc’s outrageous flirting; he knew the man well enough to know he’d never poach on Athtar’s territory, although he couldn’t help but wonder if the other man’s quick wit and charm were more appealing to a woman like Faith than his own blunt demands. Despite his good intentions, he found himself dragging her off to their cabin more frequently than usual whenever she was with Studoc, even when Thynmirr was present as well.

  Grabon was the only one who still had not warmed to her. His security chief watched her constantly, a look in his eyes that Athtar couldn’t decipher. He would almost have thought it was longing, yet the man never showed any signs of physical interest. After one evening in the crew lounge when the man never took his eyes off of her, he’d had enough. He sent Faith on ahead and followed Grabon to the med lab.

  “Why do you keep fucking staring at my woman? Do you want her?”

  Grabon looked startled, then shook his head. “No, of course not.”

  “Then why are you staring at her?”

  Grabon sighed and rearranged the vials he had been studying when Athtar barged in. “Two reasons. The first is practical. I’m still not sure I trust her. I’ve been trying to come up with an antidote to the poison in Zartan’s system, just in case, and I have not been successful.”

  “You can’t seriously think she’s going to fucking poison us, can you?”

  “No, not now. But I don’t want to leave it to chance.”

  “You’re a fucking paranoid idiot but since that’s your job, I’ll let it go. What’s the other reason?”

  Grabon picked up a vial, holding it up to the light, and avoiding his gaze. “I want a mate.”

  “You can’t fucking have her, you son of a bitch. She’s mine.”

  Rage blinding him, it took him a minute to realize that the other man looked genuinely startled. “No, no. I don’t want your mate. I meant I want a mate of my own.”

  “I thought you liked this life. When we were fighting, it’s all we fucking talked about.”

  “I know. I wanted the freedom. I still do. But I’m getting older. I always thought I would find my mate eventually, but it hasn’t happened and I’m starting to wonder if it ever will. And, Athtar, I want a family. Being around Deb and Rast made me realize how much.”

  Athtar sighed and sat down next to Grabon. His friend’s words echoed the same longing he had been pushing aside. Seeing Rast find happiness with a woman, ironically with another human female, had made him, not jealous exactly, but more conscious of being alone. The fact that Rast and Deb had named their son after him still filled him with pride, but also made him regret not having a child of his own. Which immediately made him think of Faith. He found it surprisingly easy to imagine her pregnant, to envision her body blooming with his child, to see himself… to see himself what? Coming home to her every day from some fucking job on the docks. No, he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that.

  “I hope you find what you’re looking for, old friend,” he said finally. “I already know it’s not for me.”

  Grabon shook his head but didn’t say anything. His silence rang in Athtar’s ears as he headed back to their… his cabin. The light was on, but Faith was asleep, her glasses still perched on her nose. Pieces of paper surrounded her and flowed over onto his side of the bed. As much work as she did on her tablet, she liked old fashioned paper as well, claiming that it helped her think. Fuck, she looked right lying there in his bed. Something ached in his chest, but he pushed it away. Instead, he removed her glasses and kissed her awake, then made hard passionate love to her, trying to convince himself that this was only a physical arrangement. She responded with equal fervor but when they finally collapsed, and she settled into her usual position on his chest, he had the sinking feeling that he was lying to himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  When they emerged in the Kaisar system, everyone on board was tense, anxious to get rid of their prisoner and get away.

  “How is the asshole?” he asked Grabon when he went to collect Zartan.

  “Annoying,” Grabon said bluntly. “He seems convinced that we’re all too stupid to understand what important work he was doing.”

  “Fucking scholars.” Athtar glanced over at the prisoner and lowered his voice. “How much longer does he have?”

  “I don’t think it will be long. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain other than complaining about his stomach occasionally, but he’s getting weaker.” Grabon’s face turned grim. “You need to drop him off and get us out of here before he collapses and they want to send us back for another one.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He spoke loud enough for Zartan to hear. “Come on fuck-face. Time to meet your emperor.”

  “A Kaisarian,” Zartan sniffed. “They aren’t worthy to clean an Elginar’s shoes.”

  “They were worthy enough to kick Elgin’s ass a thousand fucking years ago,” he said dryly. “Now get your ass up.”

  “What about the human whore?” Zartan sneered. “Are you tired of fucking a mongrel yet—”

  Athtar watched in satisfaction as the man crumpled to the ground from his blow.

  “No wonder we got conquered. Assholes can’t take a blow.” He grinned at Grabon. “With any luck, he’ll stay unconscious until we’re out of orbit and on our way.

  The transfer went smoothly enough, although Emperor Karthajin insisted on Athtar accompanying Zartan to his office. For an emperor, he was a tolerable enough bastard, with an air of authority that belied his youth. The visit also served to remind Athtar that the emperor, too, had a human companion. Athtar had offered previously to take her to live with Rast and Deb but Karthajin had no intention of giving her up. Watching the man’s face when he rejected the offer as firmly as Athtar would have done if someone offered to take Faith, he wondered if they were both fooling themselves. He thought of telling Faith about the emperor’s female but she hadn’t shown any interest in Deb so he supposed she w
ouldn’t be interested in Ella, either.

  Once the ship was safely away from the Kaisarian system, he called a meeting. They all gathered in the crew lounge. “All right, baby. Time to convince us we can destroy the weapon and not get killed.”

  Faith looked at the faces of the crew and tried not to flinch. This is no worse than defending your thesis, she told herself. Maybe even easier since half of her committee had been prejudiced against her to begin with because of her youth. If she could win them over, she could win this group over as well. Although she hadn’t asked her professors to put their lives in danger.

  She took a deep breath. “The lab has a back entrance. It’s supposed to be a secret. Only the Elginar scientists knew about it, probably because they didn’t care if anyone else could escape in the event of an emergency.”

  “How do you know about it?” Grabon asked with his usual suspicious look.

  “I hacked into the utility systems, of course. The well that provides the water supply is located just inside the back entrance. That’s what I used to distribute the poison.”

  “So toss in some more poison, and boom, we're done,” Studoc said cheerfully.

  She frowned at him. “The water is used by everyone in the facility. The guards are innocent—well, at least most of them. I’m sure they don’t know what’s happening.”

  “What do you mean, most of them?” Athtar asked.

  “Some of the supervisors are Kaisarian. I’m sure they know what’s going on. They kept talking about Napisten’s holy mission.” She felt sick just remembering. “I thought they meant this Napisten of theirs wanted new habitable planets, not that he wanted to destroy them.”

  “I do not believe that destruction would be Napisten’s wish,” Kanithe said quietly. She was rubbing the small gem she always wore around her neck. “I would not follow Him if I believed that.”

  “I suspect you’re right. They seemed more fanatical than devout. And there are a few other scientists, too, ones that were captured as I was and forced to work.” There had been less and less of them as the years wore on. If they “failed to perform,” as Skevyk would put it, they conveniently disappeared.

 

‹ Prev