Angels and Ministers of Grace

by Michelle O'Leary

  Jason stalked down the corridor towards her, relieved to see that she had a long robe on. He didn't think he could've kept his hands off of her if she'd still been wearing that costume. As he drew close, he was infuriated to see an ironic smile on her lips and her eyebrows lifted in inquiry. Just what did she think was so damned amusing about turning him inside out?

  He opened his mouth to blast her, but shut it again with a snap when he realized that the roar of the crowd would drown out most of what he'd say. He turned to what he assumed was the dressing room door and keyed it open, grabbing hold of her arm and propelling her through. She resisted him a little at first, and he thought he heard her call his name, but he didn't let her go until they crossed the threshold. When the door cut off the noise from the bar, he rounded on her, aware of her friends at the edge of his vision. He heard one gasp and another give a breathless laugh, but he paid them no attention, all his focus on the woman in front of him. Her expression was incredulous, but he didn't take the time to find out why.

  "You are going to start a goddamned riot out there," he gritted, his voice hoarse from the effort not to shout.

  She blinked at him as though he was a new species before her lips curled in a wry smile. "So you didn't like the show?"

  "Damn it, woman, you keep dancing on the tables like that and that mob will tear this place apart to get at you!"

  "Careful, Jason, that almost sounds like concern. You wouldn't want to trash a perfectly good hard-ass reputation, now would you?"

  "You're crazy, you know that? How could you—"

  She held up a hand to forestall him, and then shocked him to his toes with her next words. "Touch me."

  "Wh-what?"

  She grinned and wiggled her fingers at him. "Try to touch me."

  He had no idea what kind of game she was playing, but if she thought he could touch her now and not haul her into his arms… The teasing twinkle in her eye was enough of a goad that he reached up and attempted to catch her hand in his. A sudden stab of pain like an electric shock shot up his hand and through his arm, making him jerk back with a curse.

  "No one touches me without my permission. That crowd might be rougher than I've seen in a while, but I have complete control of them. At least, while I'm out there."

  "You may think you do, but if you keep pushing them like you just did—" he started, but faltered into silence when she pulled the tie on her robe. He stared in wild-eyed shock as she shrugged it off of her shoulders. "What the hell are you doing?"

  She paused and looked up at him in feigned surprise. "I'm changing. Shouldn't keep them waiting too long, don't you think? Could you turn around?"

  He spun so fast that he almost stumbled, feeling his face burn with embarrassment as he suddenly realized what he'd witnessed out of the corner of his eye when he'd barged into the room. The other three had been in the process of changing and he hadn't even noticed. Then the realization hit him that Anya was getting naked not three feet from where he was standing. He groaned out loud as sudden rampant desire made his whole body ache. "Damn it, Anya," he muttered between clenched teeth, his voice sounding strangled even to his ears.

  "Now don't worry, Jason. I'll be sure to tone it down as the night wears on, and by the time I'm done, they'll be docile as lambs. I promise."

  His answer was to walk out the door. It was either that or attack her again like a hungry animal, this time with her friends as witnesses. With long, hard strides, he put distance between him and temptation, arrowing for the exit with single-minded resolve. He had no idea what expression he had on his face, but people practically leapt out of his way as he pushed through the crowd. Outside the bar, he didn't slow his stride, heading with grim determination towards his quarters. A long cold shower and a stiff drink were all that was waiting for him there, but that was a hell of a lot better than making a total fool of himself.

  The evening had been a complete success—in more ways than one, Anya thought to herself with a smug smile. She was lying on her couch with Jar sprawled across the chair opposite from her and Rie sitting at the end of the sofa rubbing Anya's feet. Her body was pleasantly lethargic, but she was still much too keyed up to sleep. Not only had the wild crowd been an energy boost, but she was starting to think she was making real progress with Jason. As far as she knew, that was the first time he'd said her first name and the memory sent a pleasurable chill dancing over her skin.

  "You sure he didn't peek?" she murmured wistfully and grinned as Jar gave a throaty chuckle.

  "Not once."

  "Damn," she sighed and arched her back in a voluptuous stretch, remembering the look in his eyes when she'd opened her robe.

  "You overdid that first song on purpose, didn't you?"

  "Guilty." Anya looked over at Jar with an unrepentant grin and her friend snorted in amusement. "I was hoping he'd come. Did I tell you he asked if the Queen hurt me?"

  "Couple of times," Jar answered with a smirk.

  Anya had told her friends about her visit to the Hive, but not what the captain had said about her plans for the station.

  "Poor guy didn't know what he was in for. You teased pretty hard, Ani."

  "Serves him right. He looks at me with those eyes, and I could just eat him alive."

  "Feeling's mutual, I'm sure. I can't believe he ignored us. I was completely naked. I've never had a man just not notice that before."

  "I do not understand," Rie said while frowning in concentration at Anya's feet. "He seems to find you attractive and you want him for your mate. Simply tell him so."

  Anya sighed as her friend's words brought her back to reality with a thump. "I wish it was that easy, Rie. But he's still mad at me for some reason, and I have to find out why first. Besides, anybody would've found me attractive after that first number. I did push it pretty hard."

  Rie lifted her frown from Anya's feet to her face. "You humans complicate what is a simple matter."

  "It's a curse." Anya smiled and wiggled her toes. "Thanks, Rie. That feels great. What would I do without you?"

  "You would hire a masseuse," her friend murmured with a dry look, but her frown was gone. "Cesna does not seem to have this curse."

  The little redhead had gone directly from Whitey's to a rendezvous. She wouldn't say with who, but Anya didn't think it mattered. Cesna changed men like she changed her clothes.

  "Ces has a different curse," Anya replied with dry amusement and Jar laughed softly.

  "So many men, too little time?"

  "Exactly."

  They grinned at one another before Jar got to her feet and arched her supple body like a cat. "We should get to bed. We've got rehearsals tomorrow morning at the Seasons before they open for lunch."

  Anya nodded, but didn't move as Rie also stood. "Thanks for keeping me company. And good work tonight, girls—we've made a great start here, I think."

  Jar smiled and bent to give her a motherly kiss on the forehead. "As usual, you were a shining star. Get some sleep, Ani."

  "Goodnight."

  Anya watched with deep affection as they meandered out the door and then heaved a sigh at the thought of trying to sleep. Her body was tired, muscles aching mildly from the night's efforts, but her thoughts and emotions were not conducive to rest. The joy of performing again had given her an emotional high that was going to be difficult to get rid of, but it was thoughts of Jason and his reactions tonight that were really going to keep her awake. Was it just the performance that had put the dark heat in his eyes? Was she kidding herself to think that he'd been concerned about her being in the Hive? He'd still been frustratingly angry with her or she would have been at his door tonight to find out. Maybe in a couple of days she'd pluck up the courage to seek him out and ask him.

  Sighing again, she rolled off the couch and headed for the bedroom without much enthusiasm. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 19

  Jason stared down at the menu with unseeing eyes, trying to decide whether he was insane or just severel
y sleep deprived and so not responsible for his actions. Why else would he be sitting in the Seasons a few minutes away from watching Anya perform again? He wasn't usually prone to masochism.

  "Have you decided?"

  A polite voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up at the waiter, wondering what the guy would do if he said that yes, he'd decided he was insane. "Not really. What's good here?"

  "Well, everything is good, but my favorite is the grilled grouper. It's marinated in—"

  "Fine, I'll take that."

  The waiter then asked what kind of side dishes he wanted and whether he wanted soup or salad. Jason made his choices randomly and afterwards couldn't remember what he'd said. It didn't matter anyway. He wasn't really there for the food.

  Jason settled himself to wait, looking down to where Anya would be performing. The Seasons had two floors and both were arranged like half moons to give as many dinners as possible a view of the Arboretum through large, plas-glass windows. This then made it convenient to clear an area directly in front of the windows for the singers, allowing most diners to watch as well as listen.

  The place was fuller than he'd ever seen it. An upscale restaurant which prided itself on personal attention to its customers, the Seasons usually catered to the more well off members of the station and its visitors, but those were a small percentage of the station's occupants. From where he sat, though, he could see only two empty tables and one of those was being filled as he watched. He had to hand it to her—Anya was definitely starting her career on the station well.

  The waiter distracted him momentarily by putting a bowl of soup in front of him. When he glanced back down, he saw the four singers grouped around an older man. His eyes were drawn to Anya like a starving man to a plate of food, aware that he'd stopped breathing. She was stunning in a full-length gown of a deep forest green with her hair pulled up to fall in white, glistening ringlets to the nape of her neck. Jason watched with hungry eyes as she spoke and gestured, her expression solemn and her movements graceful. He was pathetically aware that he'd missed the sight of her, that the day had been long and colorless without her.

  The older man stepped away from the singers and faced the dining room, a reserved smile on his face. Jason guessed that he must be the manager. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am Basil Gerard, the manager of the Seasons. It is my great pleasure to introduce, from Earth, the lovely and talented Anya Vaedrin."

  The diners began to applaud, and Gerard faded back out of the cleared area, making room for the singers as they stepped forward. Anya nodded to the manager as he passed them and then smiled for the audience.

  "Thank you for that warm welcome. I'd like to introduce the three people who make my job easy, not to mention making me look good." She introduced her three friends who got their own round of applause. "We have the honor of entertaining you tonight, or at least we'll try." She flashed a depreciating smile at the audience and got a smattering of laughter in return. "Our first song holds special meaning for me. Though I'm fast falling in love with this station, there's a large part of me still back on Earth. This is for all of us who've left something behind."

  She began to sing, and Jason was immediately struck by the similarity to last night's performance. She sang as though she were alone with each individual in the room, with an intimacy and personal connection that captured the attention of every single person in the place. Jason didn't once hear the clink of silverware or the hum of conversation while she sang. Part of this, he came to realize, was the emotional connection she was making with the diners. He could actually feel a bittersweet longing, which he knew had to be coming from her because he'd never considered Earth home and had no loved ones there to draw him back.

  I miss you most in summers gone by

  Covered in grass stains and sweet flowers

  Over fields and through sunbeams I'd fly

  To your arms, laughing together for hours.

  I remember the love in your arms

  I remember the warmth of your smile

  I remember the light in your eyes

  We've been apart for such a long while

  But though the distance is far

  I'll know wherever you are

  My soul is where I feel you

  Just call me and I'll be true.

  As he listened to the words of the song, Jason could feel a black frown clenching his brows together and pulling his mouth down. What had she left behind that could cause her such melancholy? Or more to the point, who? When they sang the chorus, he could hear the throb of love in her voice and feel it like warmth seeping into his skin. Was it that lover who'd betrayed her? Was she still in love with him?

  I miss you most watching summer stars

  Talking in whispers to cricket song

  Spending the cool night wrapped in your arms

  And falling asleep before too long.

  I remember the love in your arms

  I remember the warmth of your smile

  I remember the light in your eyes

  We've been apart for such a long while

  But though the distance is far

  I'll know wherever you are

  My soul is where I feel you

  So call me and I'll be true.

  I miss you most in my heart

  [My soul is where I feel you]

  Day and night, whenever we're apart.

  [Just call me and I'll be true]

  I miss you…"

  Her voice soared in glorious counterpoint to her friends before drifting to a quiet sigh of bittersweet sadness at the end. He could see that she'd had quite an effect on the audience—a woman at the next table was sniffling through tears as she applauded with great enthusiasm. Grinding his teeth together in a state of burning jealousy, Jason abruptly stood and stalked towards the exit, forgetting about his meal.

  The next few days were an agonizing roller coaster for him. He refused to go to any more of her performances, so his days and nights were filled with a terrible longing to see her offset by a furious jealousy. It was bad enough that she was so much in love with someone else that she wrote a song for them, but what made it even worse was that she could still love the bastard even after he'd ruined her life. It drove Jason crazy, and by the fourth day even the captain was walking on eggshells around him.

  When he got word that a huge brawl had broken out at Whitey's, Jason jumped at the chance for some action. With luck, he'd be able to crack some heads together and release some of his aggression. When he got down there, though, he was alarmed to see a squad in full riot gear surrounding the place from the outside. He found Frank who handed him a chest plate and helmet. "What the hell's going on?"

  "It's escalated. Somebody trashed the doors so we can't just lock 'em in and gas 'em all. We're gonna have to do this the old fashioned way!" Frank flashed him a hard grin, face flushed and eyes gleaming in anticipation.

  Jason grinned back, pulling on the chest plate, but holding the helmet for the moment. "So what are we waiting for?"

  They moved towards the line of troops at the front entrance, Frank's expression sobering professionally. "I've got 'em armed with shockers and sonic stunners, but it'll take time to clear that mob. So far, we've just kept 'em from spilling out into the public area, but they're a wild bunch, Jace."

  Looking over the shoulder of one guard, Jason could see that for himself. Whitey's had turned into a madhouse, the occupants barely recognizable as sentients. They were acting more like enraged animals. Grimacing at the bloody mess, Jason turned to order the troops in, but something caught his eye. He flashed a quick look back into the fray only to stop and stare in stunned amazement as people began dropping to the floor. Like a circular wave, this phenomenon spread from the center of the place out, fighters slumping to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.

  "What'd you throw in there?" he muttered to Frank, but the older man was shaking his head slowly in amazement. The line of troops surged backwards as brawlers fell into their arms,
and Jason looked to the middle of this strangeness to see one single person standing there.

  Jason felt his heart freeze and his limbs go numb when he recognized Anya and realized that she'd been at the very center of that violence. His throat closed in panic at the thought of what could have happened to her and he remained silent as she began picking her way towards them.

  He barely heard her through the ringing in his ears as she started yelling, "Damn it, Frank! Why the hell didn't you call me when this started? My god, this could all have been prevented! What the hell is wrong with you?"

  "You did this?" Frank asked in a queer mix of puzzlement and awe.

  "Yes! And I could have stopped this before it started if you'd only—"

  "Are they dead?"

  "Yeah, Frank, they're dead—that's why that guy's snoring!" She gestured in disgust at one sleeper who was making a great deal of noise while he slumbered. She shot the older man a look of searing contempt before turning her attention to Jason.

  He'd watched her make her way through the sleepers, his heart pounding faster and faster with belated fear and fury as images of what could have happened to her burned in his mind. By the time she stood in front of him, he was beside himself with anger at the risk she'd taken. He had enough presence of mind not to unleash it in front of his people, though. When she was within range, he dropped his helmet, clamped a hand around her wrist and stalked away from the group, dragging her with him.

  "Jason! What the hell are you doing?"