He pulled her close and she buried her face against his chest. Like a rogue wave, all her tightly-contained grief rose up and rolled over her in deep, racking sobs. Wolf held her, stroking her back, her hair, while he muttered endearments. Eventually she pulled back. He took her face in his hands and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “Weren’t you the one who told me SpecOps agents don’t cry?”
His head snapped around at a clatter from the darkness beyond the room. Jumper skidded to a stop in the doorway, light reflecting from his eyes. His ears folded flat against his head as he bared his teeth.
“Take your hands off her, dirt bag.” He sprang for Wolf, light glittering from the plexisteel of his extended claws.
Fitz yelled, “Wait, Jumper, no…”
Wolf grabbed the hurtling cat before the furry buzz-saw hit his face, and held him at arm’s length. “Stand down, Jumper. It’s me.”
“Boss?” The claws retracted. “It is you.”
He settled Jumper in his lap and studied his paws. “What are these?”
“I told him no when he asked me, but he did it anyway.” Fitz said. “And when I complained to the vet, he informed me that a Kaphier cat had a right to make his own decisions about the surgery.”
Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, but he likes to brag that he’s a bona fide member of the Gold Dragons, and mercenaries obey orders.”
“Yes, Boss. She was right. It was a dumb move. I sliced my ear and scratched my nose and even shredded my favorite cat bed while I was dreaming.” The cat sighed. “They’re only temporary, and will come off when I shed my claws in a few weeks. Long before the baby comes.”
“Baby?” Wolf turned to Fitz, eyebrow arched. “What baby?”
Not how she’d planned to tell him; there should have been candlelight, soft music, and chocolate cake. But he had the right to know as soon as possible.
“I’m pregnant.”
As if he hadn’t understood her meaning, he blinked rapidly and his mouth dropped open. Although his jaw moved, nothing came out for several long seconds, then, “Pregnant? As in with child? How is that possible?”
“Well, you see, when a boy cat and a girl cat feel kind of frisky…” Jumper started.
Fitz cut the troublemaker off. “Doc Ski seems to think it happened on board the Bifrost, right after you gave me the symbiont, and before she placed the IUD. She believes this thing is driven to reproduce, like any living organism, and it manipulated our bodies to make it happen. Just like it did with you and Ari.” She searched his face for any emotion behind the shock. “Are you upset?”
“Upset? No, just a little surprised. Why would I be unhappy? This is wonderful!”
“Ski said you didn’t have a very happy childhood, and you’ve never talked to me about it.”
“My father expected great things from me, and when I didn’t live up to his expectations, he tended to express his displeasure with the back of his hand. I quickly learned not to make mistakes.”
To Fitz that explained a lot about this hard, sometimes unyielding, man she loved. “It wasn’t easy for me, either,” she said. “By ten I lived on the street, avoiding the gangs and pedophiles and johns out trolling for new blood for their joy houses.”
“So between the two of us,” he said, “we have every reason to give him the childhood any kid would dream about.”
“Her. You’re going to have a daughter.”
His mouth curved in a lopsided grin as he brushed a finger down her cheek. “A girl. A miniature version of you. I can teach her to fly a shuttle and fire a weapon and…”
“And manipulate her father to get whatever she wants. This little girl is going to be so spoiled.”
“Not spoiled, just well taken care of. And loved.”
He pulled her into his arms, his breath warm against her face. Beneath the familiar masculine smell of him, she caught the dark odor of seawater, sweat and blood. She pulled back.
“I think a shower might be in order.”
Mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Care to join me?”
“I’ve a better idea. How about some cloudberry pie and ice cream?”
“Real?” Wolf believed even the best processor couldn’t do ice cream right.
“Of course.”
His kiss would have melted any frozen dessert instantly. “Hmm, pie or you. I think I’ll have both. First a quick shower while you fix it, then after we eat, you can give me a proper welcome home.”
“I like the way you think.” She reluctantly slipped away from his arms.
When Fitz returned with the pie, she placed the tray on the table by the bedroom’s large window. Beyond the glass, wind drove the snowflakes horizontally and whitened the ground. A good night to stay inside, warm in her lover’s arms.
She stepped into the freshener and the sight of him stilled the words in her throat. Wolf had come back to her, safe and once again himself. The hair would take some getting used to, but it would grow back. She’d have taken him completely bald if that’s what it took to have him back in her arms. Her gaze followed the flow of hot water across the hard muscles of his back, down to the curve of that magnificent butt. Joy swelled in her chest, threatening to explode with the light and heat of a supernova.
She finally found her voice. “Better hurry before the ice cream melts.”
“Screw the bloody ice cream, I’ve changed my mind.” A bright flare of desire lit his eyes. He pulled her into the shower and lifted her into his embrace, lips hard against her mouth. Heat spiraled up her body until the water flowing over her seemed to be sizzling off her skin. The song inside her head swelled, merging with his in a passionate symphony. She wrapped her leg around his thigh, pressing her body closer to his.
“You’re getting my clothes wet,” she said, laughing when he finally lifted his mouth from hers.
“I can remedy that.” He let her slide against his wet body as he set her on her feet. Brushing against the hardness of his desire, Fitz shivered in anticipation. His hands caressed the contours of her body as he skinned off her shirt and tossed it away. He released her hair from its ponytail, threading his fingers through the wet curls and pulling her face closer so his tongue could caress her mouth. A blaze of passion mounted in her as he nibbled and licked a heated path down her neck, her shoulder. His mouth followed his hands to her breasts, the brush of his unshaven cheeks against her sensitive skin sending shivers of passion up her spine.
He knelt, sliding her pants over her hips and down her thighs, carefully lifting each foot to free it from the wet fabric. He slid his hands up her legs until they embraced her bottom, pulling her to him. Fitz stroked the soft stubble of his hair as he kissed her stomach, traced a fiery line around her navel with his incredible tongue. He nuzzled his face against her abdomen but froze, remaining quiet as the seconds ticked away. Then he lifted his head, his expression childlike in wonderment.
“She’s singing,” he whispered. “Our daughter is singing to me.”
She stroked his cheek and only nodded, her throat locking on the words. Tears prickled in her eyes.
Wolf stood, swept her up into his arms and carried her to their bed.
___________
Fitz woke to Wolf’s body coiled against her back, warm and solid, his hand cradling her abdomen, their future. Jumper lay pressed against her chest, his sleepy purr rumbling through her body and reverberating in her mind.
A chiming grew insistent.
She checked her inhead, intending to route the incoming call to standby, but the darkness reminded her that she hadn’t reinserted her spike. More pleasurable activities had distracted her. Across the room, a light pulsed in time to the sound.
“How’s a cat supposed to sleep with all that racket going on?”
Wolf shifted behind her, pulling her tighter against him and sending a cascade of wicked notions through her mind. His lips brushed the side of her neck. “Ignore the bloody comm,” he grumbled.
“If someone’s looking for us at this time of
night, it might be important.” Fitz repositioned the cat and slid out of bed, padded across the darkened room and punched the receive button. The image of a battleship’s bridge on full alert blasted the last of the muzziness out of her mind. Maks Kiernan stared back at her, struggling to maintain a professional demeanor, but a sheepish grin lit his face
“Ah…Colonel, you are totally out of uniform.”
Fitz realized she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on. Wolf slipped up behind her, wrapping a blanket and his arms around her. “Admiral, what’s going on?”
Kiernan’s eyes narrowed. “Youngblood?”
Kiernan snapped to attention at Wolf’s nod. “Triumvir, at 0147 hours fleet time, we received a message from Remote Station Beta-34, sent as they were destroyed. Three Tzraka hive ships jumped in at the hyperlimit, and are inbound toward Scyr.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Fitz walked into Wolf’s office, twisting her hair up into an untidy knot. “Are you ready? Lizzy is on the pad and waiting for us.”
Armored in SpecOps black like her, Wolf pulled pistols, blades and explosives from the open weapons cabinet. He slapped a fresh power cell into the Acton and looked up, shaking his head. “All I want to do is gun up, charge into that warehouse, and finally have it out with Jan, but I can’t do that, can I? I’m not a free agent any longer. I have responsibilities; a Fleet to command.” He jammed the pistol into the holster under his arm. “I knew there was a reason I hated this job the last time I had it.”
“I’ll take care of Tritico,” she said.
Jumper flexed his lethal claws. “And Super Cat will help.”
“No.” Wolf’s reply was quick and final. “I’m not the only one with responsibilities. You’ll both stay with Ari and guard her. That’s your job.” His voice took on a hard edge, reminding her that he was her superior officer. “In the minds of the people, Ari is the Empire. She must be protected at all costs.”
“She has her Praetorian Guard…” Fitz started to protest, but his fingers against her lips stopped her.
“You know what I think of them.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m certain Tritico has another attack on Ari planned, and with the confusion of this invasion, now would be the perfect time to spring it. I’m not going to forget again that his ultimate objective is the throne. While I’m out with the Fleet, I need to know you’ll be there, standing between her and whatever that devious mind of his can dream up.”
“Dammit, I’m not going to let him slip through our fingers again.” She stepped away and paced. “What if I called up a Special Forces team? Would you be able to give them directions to that warehouse?”
“Yes, but from what I can dredge up out of Cypher’s memory, Tritico has at least three augies in addition to the bugs, so you’ll want to send in more than one team.”
“Hell, I’ll send an entire battalion if that’s what it’ll take. I’ll call Pike now and get him to set it up.”
Her comm to the lieutenant’s private line went to message; so did Chin’s, but Bartonelli answered immediately. The merc sat at a desk, kitted out in her mismatched Gold Dragons armor, a pulse rifle at her side.
“Where’s Pike?” Fitz asked.
“Gone, along with Chin and that gimpy staff officer, Perez. And any Praetorian who ever pulled a tour on a warship. Because of the holidays, Fleet’s personnel are scattered all over hell’s half acre on shore leave, and a lot of them couldn’t make it back before Kiernan burned out of here. He was in the devil’s own hurry to get his ships moving because he wanted to engage those bugs as far out in the system as possible. I thought he’d shanghai me, but instead told me to stay with Momma Dragon until you showed up. Right now we’re in medical helping Ski get set up in case we have casualties…”
The sergeant’s eyes widened as she caught sight of Wolf sliding into the image. “Behind you, Chima!” she shouted.
“It’s quite all right, Sergeant. I’m myself again.” he said.
A smile split her dark face. “Wolf?”
“Is that Youngblood?” a man’s voice called from off screen. “Let me talk to him.”
Bartonelli ceded the chair to Logan Von Drager.
“How did you get here?” Wolf grumbled. “A man’s out of touch for a few days and the whole bloody world gets turned on its head. What do you want, Doctor?”
“You have to kill Janos Tritico.”
“Believe me, I’d like nothing better, but right now I have an invasion to stop.”
“The best way to do that is to kill Tritico.”
Wolf shook his head. “As of last night he was there in Striefbourne City. How is he controlling a fleet at the far edge of the solar system?”
“You’ve located him?”
“I know where to find him, but he has a team of augies guarding him, along with several bugs of a type I’m not familiar with.”
“One of them will be a Speaker.”
“Speaker?” Fitz asked. “Like the one I saw him talking to on Baldark?”
“Yes, except this will be one of a twinned pair, two Tzrakas born conjoined from a single egg, sharing one mind. After separation they retain the ability to communicate instantly, even across interstellar distances, in a form of quantum entanglement. That’s how Tritico controls the hive ships. You have to sever that link; eliminate one, and its twinned pair will perish. Without direction, the bugs will break and run like they did at Lockmea Rho.”
“Then why do I have to kill Jan?” Wolf asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Von Drager squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a breath. “Tritico thinks he’s using the bugs, but they’re manipulating him, changing him and the way he thinks; molding him into something more like their old Arkainsahaar masters. When he returned from that trip to locate the Tzrakas, I could see the difference in him—colder, more cruel.”
Fitz swallowed against a mouth that felt stuffed with cotton. A Tritico more unfeeling than the one she’d faced on Baldark? The one who’d discussed turning her body into an incubator for thousands of Tzraka nymphs with the same casual disregard he’d use when asking for a cup of tea?
Von Drager twisted the zipper pull of his lab jacket between his fingers. “I’m afraid it’s gone beyond a battle for control of the Empire. He sees us and any other Lazzinair he can’t control as the enemy. It’s as if fate has predestined us to play out the same struggle that tore apart the ancient Arkainsahaar.”
Fitz knew nothing was free, particularly this chance at an extended life span, but had the symbiont come with a price higher than any of them had imagined?
Wolf folded his arms over his chest. “Fate has nothing to do with this. As I see it, you created this entire mess, Von Drager—or should I call you August Lazzinair?”
The doctor flinched as if he’d been struck, his face furrowed by the same grief Fitz had seen that morning in the maximum security cell. “No. That foolish old man should stay buried.” He gave a choked, desperate laugh. “But you are right about it all being my fault. I caused it all. I unwittingly dragged us into their war, a war which had been going on for over a million years.” He scrubbed his hands together as if trying to remove blood only he could see. When he spoke again, his words were barely audible. “My stupidity started the Tzraka War.”
Wolf’s lips thinned, pressed together so tight they looked bloodless. Fitz noticed ghosts stirring in his eyes as he dropped into his chair. He placed the slug thrower on the desk, retreating into the solace of disassembling it and cleaning each part with exaggerated care.
Too deep into his own misery, Von Drager didn’t notice the effect his words had on Wolf. “A mining company on Lockmea Rho discovered a population of aboriginals living on the planet.”
“And if they proved to be indigenous, they’d lose the contract, unless they split a healthy percentage of the profits with the locals.” Fitz wondered if the involvement of the planet where the final battle of the Bug War took place could be a coincid
ence. Not likely.
Yes,” Von Drager said. “So there was a lot of pressure—and money—for a xenoarcheological report supporting their assertion the population wasn’t native. I agreed, but, thank Hansue I had enough professionalism to go into the field and observe the subjects before I wrote the fraudulent report. As it turned out, there was no need to lie. They weren’t natives at all, but a group of Arkainsahaar, stranded at a remote listening post for centuries, awaiting a retrieval that never came. They had no idea the war was long over and time had passed them by. Those who survived had degenerated into little more than savages.”
Von Drager looked down at his restless fingers. “To learn what I could of their civilization, I stayed with them after I submitted my report. It must have been that information that alerted their enemies. They woke the Tzraka, gathered their hive ships, and set out immediately for Lockmea Rho, so consumed by their hatred that they couldn’t allow even a pitiful handful to exist.”
Von Drager cleared his throat. “After the fighting started, I returned home, but before I left, the Arkainsahaar gave me a gift. The symbiont. At the time I thought it was a kindness, but now I’m not so sure. As the casualty count mounted, I tried to convince the government that I had knowledge that could cut down on our troop loss. I received permission for an experiment at a remote field hospital on Yebbix. There should have been few casualties…”
“But then the fighting shifted,” Wolf said. “Those of us stationed on Yebbix found ourselves on the front lines. A lot of people ended up in that aid station, important people.”
“And I killed them.” Von Drager said. “Because I didn’t know about the connection between the symbiont and the virus the Tzraka carried in their blades.”
Fitz stared out the office’s door at the snow sleeting across the darkness, rather than look at the anguish on the doctor’s face. The symbiont had brought her only joy, a new life, a promise of love, and most importantly, Wolf and a child. Shame burned in her throat that she should feel happiness from something that brought another human being such suffering. Even when Von Drager tried to save lives with the symbiont, his act brought only more tragedy.
Cypher (The Dragon's Bidding Book 2) Page 25