Reclaiming Mystique (SpaceStalker Saga Book 2)

by Bevan Greer

  Naria nodded. “A good idea. I don’t want to go back.” Not now, not ever. But that led her to another issue. The present. She felt a burning curiosity about her whereabouts. With any luck, her father would be so furious with her that he’d be glad she’d left. A heartening thought. Naria smiled.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That I was very fortunate to have met you. I’d like to see more of your ship, if I may. I’ve never been aboard a vessel.” The look he shot her made her want to smack herself. Stick to your story, Naria. “Well, I did catch a ride on the tourist ship that led me to Dark World, but I’d as soon forget about that if I could.”

  “How about a tour of the SpaceStalker, then?” Jace said with a smile.

  Naria sensed a watchfulness that hadn’t been there before her slip. Yet she liked that sense of caution. Naria didn’t trust anyone, and the fact that Jace didn’t trust her either gave them something in common.

  He left the bed and punched in the control keys to open the door. He led her into a room adjoining hers.

  She was in awe of her surroundings. The buttery yellow room was as far from black or gray as one could get. A large portal in the wall showed the Nearworlds off in the distance. Drawn to the sight, she moved to the window and stared at the milky red cluster of smaller planets so far away.

  “We’re heading to planet Rovi to fix the ship. I can’t take you back to Seven yet. But I’ll work something out on Rovi to return you—”

  “No.” At his raised brow, she amended, “That’s not necessary. I was on a tour headed for the Motherworlds anyway. I’d much rather stay with you on Rovi.”

  He said nothing, just stared at her, and Naria felt worse than foolish. “Of course I can pay you.” Somehow she’d find credits—beks, they called them in the System.

  Jace scowled. Not the response she’d anticipated. “I don’t require payment. I’m just surprised you don’t want to return to your planet—to your family—after all you’ve been through.”

  “I want nothing more than to pretend Dark World never happened. Besides, it’s always been a dream of mine to visit Rovi.” She didn’t like his silence. He made her nervous, and she constantly wondered if he’d seen through her deception. She thought about adding some other incentive to keep her with him when he smiled, a slow, deep show of amusement that had her pulse racing.

  “Never let it be said I interfered with a fair maiden’s dream,” he said in a husky voice. “Rovi it is.”

  ***

  “And this is the control room,” Koneru said in a booming voice. Jace had left her with the Rovi while he attended to other things. “That’s Nesham. He doesn’t say much, but he’s a half decent pilot. Mostly.” The Rovi grinned.

  Nesham, the missing Fenturi who’d had help from Carinna, nodded at her, his expression stoic.

  Koneru continued, “You’ve seen the galley, library, crew spaces and control room. There’s not much more to the ship than belowdeck, where we keep the shuttle craft and supplies. And speaking of supplies, let’s get something to eat.”

  He led her to the galley, a small space with two large tables and chairs and a food preparatory service along a far wall.

  “Jace tells me you were caught by those hellacious creatures, just like us. What did you make of Dark World?” Koneru poured liquid into two glasses, handed one to her, then led her to one of the tables and sat.

  Naria sat with him and stared at the blue substance, wondering if Koneru meant to drug her. The liquid smelled funny and she thought it might be poison until she watched him drink from his glass.

  She put the glass to her lips and drew a small bit into her mouth. She swallowed slowly. A burning sensation coursed down her throat. Aware the Rovi watched her, she tried not to show how the drink affected her but couldn’t contain a violent cough.

  Koneru laughed and swallowed more of the vile blue stuff. “Not a drinker, are you? Bitter Blue doesn’t get much better than this.” At her confusion, his white eyes widened. “You don’t know Bitter Blue? The fermented juice that makes Vembi the stuff of legends?”

  Naria swam through her memory banks for the Vembi reference. Ah yes, the pleasure planet Vembi, reknowned for its hedonistic qualities. Sex, drugs, illegal doings. Anything and everything for a price.

  “Sure I know of Bitter Blue. I’ve just never had it before,” she said. “Imbibing isn’t encouraged in the academic field.”

  “It is in my field.” Koneru downed the rest of his glass before refilling it. “Bottom’s up.”

  Naria watched him in awe. The physical and mental strength emanating from the Rovi reflected in his aura. As if he hadn’t been tortured in the recent past, Koneru retained a fortitude that warned he’d never go down without a fight. Her father would have loved working on the male until he broke.

  Koneru stopped drinking and frowned at her. “What?”

  “I was just thinking you look very healthy for someone having left Dark World. What of the others? Jace said there are five of you? I only met three.”

  “Castor is recovering nicely, but Mikhel,” Koneru paused. “The med unit works wonders on the body but can’t do a thing about the mind.”

  Med unit? Naria worked to recall the term. Ah, yes. A mechanical device devised by the Nexians. It was a large glass-encased pod able to hold a body within. When activated, the unit did what Naria could with a touch—it healed physical injury.

  “Mikhel is the other Fenturi, yes?”

  He nodded. “He’s a full-blooded Fenturi from Fenby.”

  She frowned. That did not sound like one of the Motherworld she’s studied. “Bylar, you mean?”

  He gave her an odd look. “Fenby is the new Bylar. You know, after the Ragil Horde, the Bylaran-Fenturi civil war ended and the planet united.”

  She blushed. “Of course. Sometimes I get wrapped up in my studies and forget the real world.” That had been a close call. She’d need to pay better attention before speaking.

  He nodded. “Anyway, Mikhel is full Fenturi. Nesham’s half. Both of them are a pain in the— ah, well, never mind.” He chuckled, then seemed to grow sad. She felt his sorrow. “Unfortunately when Nesham escaped, Demise turned his wrath on Mikhel. I don’t know what happened to him, but he looked ten times worse than me and Castor.”

  “What happened to you?” she asked. Not one to administer such torture herself, and not a fan of such pain, Naria could still appreciated her father’s fine hand with his craft. He was the best interrogator on Lysst, and a fine instructor when it came to tormenting others.

  “Demise set those thirst demons on us. You had to have seen them. Huge beasts with fists like rock. They did their best to pound us into oblivion. But it’s pretty hard to kill a Rovi, demon or no,” Koneru said with pride.

  “I take it Castor was not as lucky?”

  “No. He’s Bylaran. One of the best warriors I’ve ever come across, but he’s only human. Frailer skin and bones. Demise and his demons roughed him up, bad.”

  “Lord Demise didn’t seem to care about race when doling out his punishments.” She thought about the crew. “So you’re a Rovi, Nesham and Mikhel are Fenturi, Castor is Bylaran. What is Jace?”

  Koneru took another swig of ale. Determined to keep him talking, Naria took a swallow as well and managed to keep her coughing to a minimum. She found this conversation fascinating, an insight into different offworlders. It gave her a chance to explore some of the System’s creatures up close.

  “I don’t know where Jace hails from.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “Funny, but I’ve never seen another with eyes like his. Until you.”

  Naria blinked. “But I’m from Seven.”

  “Well, Seven’s people are a lot more varied than the Fenturi or Rovi races, but one thing you have that we don’t—those eyes. You’ve got some really deep eyes, Naria.”

  Jace walked in, and she wondered how much he’d heard. He grabbed a glass of Bitter Blue and joined them at the table.

  “Interesting
,” he said and drank. “But I doubt Naria and I share the same race.”

  Naria couldn’t help herself and took a peek at his mental shields, finding them fully in place. His lips quirked though he didn’t look at her, and she wondered if he’d felt her subtle probe.

  “So you’re not from Seven, eh, Jace?” Koneru chuckled. “My guess is neither is she.” The Rovi stood and drained the rest of his glass. “I’ll be in my quarters if you need me.”

  “Good. Get plenty of rest.” Jace watched him go, then turned to Naria. He looked at her glass. “I see you’ve been relaxing as well.”

  “I’ve never had this before,” she admitted. “It’s interesting. The taste is bitter yet it pulses through my body like tiny heartbeats. I can feel it in my belly.”

  Jace grinned. “It’s been known to have that effect.” He studied her face and stared into her eyes. “Now why would Koneru think you’re not from Seven?”

  She watched him form the words, taken with the firm yet sensual quality of his lips. Her body felt foreign to her, attraction for Jace overloading her senses. So different from anyone she knew, so handsome and filled with secrets. She should stay far away from him. She knew his danger. Instead she leaned closer.

  “The one thing you can always count on in life is Bitter Blue,” he said in a low voice and put his glass down. “Naria?”

  “Yes?”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Without another word, he leaned forward and kissed her.

  -6-

  Jace covered her lips with his own and watched Naria’s eyes drift shut. Her scent seemed to fill him from the inside out. A soft, feminine perfume that spoke of power and secrets. He took a last look at the dark smudges of her lashes against her fine, pale skin, marveling at the glow of life that sparkled under her skin.

  He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, and she seemed to soften under him. He sensed her curiosity and desire, as well as her innocence. He trembled at the contact, aroused beyond belief, and contented himself with no more than a kiss. Any more than that would be too soon, too fast.

  He knew this intense attraction should worry him, but he couldn’t stir himself to bother. Not when he finally had a taste of her.

  Beautiful beyond a doubt, Naria stirred something deep within him that no one had ever touched. Giving himself to the pleasure of the moment, he teased with his tongue. She gasped, and Jace stole into her mouth, penetrating and sliding against her. Her body stiffened, and then she melted against him, turning his tentative taste into a feast of the senses.

  She returned his kiss, touching his tongue with hers. Awash in sensation and uncomfortable with its intensity, Jace broke the kiss and tried to catch his breath.

  Naria opened slumberous violet eyes and looked at him with that other part of her he recognized on the psychic plane.

  “You are hurt?” A pulse of color lit her purple gaze, turned her eyes black, then evened out into the sparkling violet he recognized.

  “It’s a sweet pain.” One from wanting you, went unsaid.

  They stared at each other in silence, and just when Jace decided to go in for another kiss, Nesham’s voice interrupted through the intercom.

  “Jace, a Legionnaire patrol approaches. They have words for the captain only.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he said absently. He lost himself in Naria’s thoughts, her echo of bewilderment and lust broadcasting clearly, though she probably didn’t realize it. Not wanting to alarm her or let her know he’d read her, he delicately withdrew back into his own mind.

  “I’ve got to go to the control room.” He brushed the pad of his thumb against her mouth and swallowed a moan of need. “We’ll finish this another time.” Definitely.

  He stood, aching at having to let her go when his body clearly needed satisfaction. Naria collected herself and projected an air of disinterest, at odds with the warmth she’d previously shown, adding another layer to the complex female. She intrigued him on so many levels.

  “Perhaps our discussion is best left finished,” she said coolly, as if she hadn’t just burned up in his arms. Her gaze stayed firmly on his face, a flush of embarrassment staining her cheeks as she refused to look below his chin. “I’ll be in your library, if that’s allowable.”

  “Fine.” Jace watched her leave. Then he gulped down his remaining ale, needing to steady his pounding nerves.

  Calmer and once again in control of himself, he met Nesham in the control room.

  “The Legionnaires are on comlink two,” Nesham informed him. The Fenturi stared fixedly at a spot just beyond Jace.

  Jace looked over his shoulder but saw nothing. “Nesham?”

  After a moment, Nesham shook his head. “Sorry. Thought I saw something.”

  “Do another sweep. I want to be sure we don’t have anything from Dark World aboard.”

  “We don’t. Koneru and I went through this ship twice.”

  Jace looked at him.

  “Another sweep.” Nesham sighed. “Roger that, Captain.”

  Jace turned to the vid screen, punched in the corresponding codes, and saw a Legionnaire Lieutenant wearing a militant expression.

  “I presume I’m speaking with the captain of the SpaceStalker?”

  “That you are.” Yet another example of anal retentive System law. Until meeting Castor, Jace has assumed all Legionnaires lacked a sense of humor.

  “We have a message for you from Legionnaire Master Garen N’alen of Fenby.”

  Dare’s mate. His best friend had actually tied herself, willingly, to a Legionnaire. It still surprised him to think of his best friend happy and with child—with a man once her enemy. Jace nodded for the lieutenant to continue.

  “Master Garen orders you to contact him immediately. Failure to do so will prompt your swift return to Fenby under armed guard.”

  Jace didn’t need this, not now. “Fine. Patch me through to ‘Master’ Garen.”

  The lieutenant gave him a stern look but did as requested.

  The minute Garen N’alen appeared on his vid screen, Jace let loose his frustration. “What in the five hels are you doing trying to commandeer my ship?”

  “Your ship?” Garen’s hint of a smile annoyed the Psi out of him. As did the not-so-subtle reminder that Jace had only recently taken over as captain the last cycle—after Garen’s mate had turned the ship over to him. “My, how possessive you’ve become. I wouldn’t have bothered you but Dare told me to.”

  “Nice to see you aren’t master of everything,” Jace muttered.

  Garen chuckled, a changed man from the once embittered captain of the Stalker patrol. But then, the love of a good woman was often said to have that desired effect.

  “Dare’s been beside herself with worry the last few passings, convinced you were in grave danger.” Garen frowned at him. “You don’t look too well, truth be told.”

  “I’m fine. The crew and I ran into some problems with the Meklens. You’ll be happy to hear they’re still holding a grudge against you for putting down their rebellion.”

  “Really?” Garen sounded interested, his warrior blood no doubt still boiling, despite his newfound marital bliss.

  “Yes, really,” Jace responded testily. “Don’t sound so pleased with yourself. And for the record, I’ve better things to do than battle the Meklens on behalf of your Stalkers.”

  “Why do I get the feeling Castor was involved in this mess?”

  ‘“Because he was. It’s too bad Castor was so good at his job as a Stalker. He’s not taking to pirate life as well as he could. He’s got a natural talent for trouble. Unfortunately, he seems to be starting it instead of finishing it.”

  “That’s Castor.” Garen grinned. “Where is he?”

  “Healing in medical. Don’t worry, he’s recuperating well enough.” Jace paused. Though he and Garen had once stood on opposite sides of the law, his friendship with Dare had tied them as friends. To their surprise, they found they actually liked each other.

  “Wha
t exactly haven’t you told me?” the astute Legionnaire asked.

  After a pause, Jace admitted, “We had to land on Dark World to escape the Meklens.”

  Garen gaped. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I were. We took some hits. Castor is mending and Mikhel—” He focused, found Mikhel exactly the same, and sighed. “He’ll heal physically, but I’m not sure what they did to him there. The stories are true, Ren. That place is a literal hell.”

  “If anyone could survive Dark World, it would be you. Damn if I’m going to tell Dare any of this, though.”

  “Don’t. She’ll just worry. Look, I’ve got to get back to the crew. Just tell her that I had some trouble with the Meklens but that I’m okay. And take care of that boy of yours. Jace Jr. has my smile.”

  “You wish.” Garen shook his head. “I’ll go. Now. But if I don’t hear from you within a moon’s rising, I’ll come get you myself. Be sure to let me know if Mikhel takes a turn for the worse. The queen will want to know.”

  The Fenby Queen, Thela Vinopol—Mikhel’s sister. Though once on opposite sides with the Vinopol monarchy, Mikhel had made his peace with the royals. Now under the leadership of a wise and noble king bent on patching the Bylaran and Fenturi people together, Fenby had been flourishing under its new leader. It helped that the king truly loved Queen Thela, and that he wanted peace as much if not more than Thela did.

  “I’ll let you know about Mikhel.” Jace said good-bye and cut the connection, knowing he should be angry at Garen’s interference. Though he’d been alone for most of his life, his relationship with Dare had filled a part of him devoid of family. Having lost her to Garen a cycle past, he’d been ignoring the small void her absence left.

  His crew felt more like friends than crewmen, his relationship with Castor closer than the others. Yet none of them knew the truth of who he was. Fear of the legendary Psi ran rampant through the System. Tolerance, though practiced in abundance on certain planets on the System, was saved for its inhabitants. Mystique did not exist as far as the System was concerned, nor for that matter, did its people.