A squadron. Dear god. It was the destroyer situation all over again, multiplied by ten. How was she to protect them this time? Fear made her head and muscles ache while she worried over it, trying to find a way out. This time they wouldn't want just her. Even if she decided to do the noble thing and give herself up, her actions with the destroyer had taken that choice away. Central would assume the station had a hand in it. All she'd done was make things worse. Swallowing against the bitter taste of guilt, she snuggled closer to Jason, seeking the comfort of his warm bulk.
He shifted to accommodate her, a low rumble of pleasure in his throat. Got it covered, he'd said. And the captain had said similar things, reassuring without explaining that all would be well. Except Anya couldn't see how that could be.
But even the fear of what was to come couldn't hold off the needs of her body for long. The hush in the sterile room and the steady, imperturbable sweep of Jason's breathing worked on her. The slow drug of sleep crept into her thoughts, numbing her concerns, and before long her breath fell into rhythm with his as she slipped into a dreamless slumber, anchored securely in his arms.
Chapter 26
Anya was alone in the bed when she woke and felt the loss keenly until she looked around the room to see Jason speaking in low murmurs with her friends. Even though his back was to her, he seemed to know that she was awake and turned towards her with a tenderness in his eyes that made her heart constrict painfully.
"Hey, beautiful," he said in a casual voice, as if he said this every day. Moving to her side, he bent over the bed and brushed his lips against hers with the air of a man following a routine years in the making. But his eyes gleamed with a secret delight that matched the tingle of emotion flowing over her skin. "How do you feel?"
Wonderful, she thought as she stared up at him. Couldn't be better. Take me now. But what she said was, "I could use a shower," in an offhand tone. "And my mouth tastes like something died in there."
"I'll get the nurse," he said promptly, but someone scoffed behind him.
"Nurse, hell, why would she need one of those when she's got us girls to help her?" Jar came around the bed far enough for Anya to see her. Her lips had an amused curl and when she caught Anya's eye, she winked rather unsubtly before looking at Jason with wide, innocent eyes. "Unless you want to help her?"
"There's an idea," Anya murmured, levering herself up onto her elbows and slanting Jason a slow, teasing smile.
"It's a damned conspiracy," he growled, but the corners of his mouth turned up and his dark eyes met hers with a warmth that made her breath catch.
"It's not monitored in there, you know," she said, looking up at him through her lashes.
His expression didn't change, but she saw a subtle darkening of his skin as he shook his head. "As much fun as that sounds," he murmured, turning her face up to his with a hand under her chin, "you still aren't recovered and I've got to go to work." The quick, hard kiss he planted on her lips wasn't nearly enough.
She sighed in disappointment as he turned away. "You'll be back later?" she asked in a rather forlorn voice. Talk about being obvious, she thought with an inner grimace.
"Try and stop me," he answered with a brilliant look over his shoulder before turning his attention to Jarden. "Take care of her."
"We always do," Jar responded with a smile. "When she let's us anyway."
He snorted with what sounded like agreement, and Anya frowned as his broad back disappeared out the door.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
They ignored her. Cesna sighed, staring at the closed door with a dreamy expression. "Why can't I find a man like that?" she asked wistfully.
Jar made a rude noise in the back of her throat. "I have no idea. You've been looking hard enough. Been through the entire station yet?"
Cesna turned narrowed eyes on her friend and folded her arms, round face mutinous. "Not yet. But maybe I should be looking for you, too. When's the last time you had a man, dear?" Her tone was sickly sweet.
With a patient, bland expression, Rie pulled back the covers and took Anya's arm, urging her to rise. Smothering a smile, Anya slid out of bed and stood, leaning on her friend as her muscles quivered weakly.
"Not long enough, if you're offering me your cast-offs," Jar responded in an acid tone.
"Now, girls," Anya murmured, but neither seemed to hear her.
They continued to bicker as Rie helped her across the room and into the lavatory.
"They have wanted to do that for days now," Rie said as the door slid closed behind them.
"Do what?" Anya asked as the other woman undid the tabs on her hospital gown with quick fingers, letting it pool at her feet.
"I believe the expression is 'letting off steam.'"
With gentle hands, Rie maneuvered her into the shower, sitting her on the seat. Feeling a little ridiculous in her naked weakness, but unable to do otherwise, Anya watched her test the water and then sighed in delighted relief at the cascade of warmth over her skin. Closing her eyes, she tipped back her head and let Rie first soak her hair and then cleanse it. It took some time, Rie's fingers massaging her scalp and running through her hair with mesmerizing gentleness. She knew Rie had a mild fascination with human hair, since she didn't have any on her own graceful form. But she didn't mind the time it took—Rie's touch was soothing and peaceful, and the warm water was relaxing.
When she'd finished with Anya's hair, Rie began to wash the rest of her. At first this was also soothing, Rie's scaled fingers running over her skin with the tenderness of a mother for her newborn. But Anya had spent the night in Jason's arms and the last time she'd been in a shower, he'd also been there. Under Rie's exotic touch, Anya's skin began to tingle with a stimulation that wasn't particularly appropriate.
Clearing her throat, Anya decided that a distraction was a damned good idea at this point. Studying the bent head of her friend, she murmured, "Witness," to see what Rie would do. But her only reaction was a serene smile and silence as she continued her work. "What do you see when you watch me?"
Rie's eyes were sky blue when they met hers, her hands drawing back from Anya's skin. "I see beauty and blindness. I see a great nobility and a terrifying fragility. You fear, yet you act, and it is a terrible thing to behold. I see a beginning and an end."
A shiver ran down Anya's back despite the warm water at the finality in Rie's tone. She supposed that if she had more courage she would ask what those prophetic sounding words meant. But she didn't. Clearing her throat, she growled, "I hate it when you get cryptic," to counteract the chill in her blood.
Rie gave her a wry smile and said, "And there is that blindness," in a tone as caustic as any Jarden had used on her. It surprised a laugh out of her.
"What can I say? I'm only human."
"True," Rie murmured, eyes sliding into a deep, entrancing amethyst. "And yet you still do as you have done. It is cause for amazement."
"Oh sure," Anya retorted with an abrupt, negating gesture. "I've done such amazing things, it's a wonder we're not all dead yet. I've only made things worse here," she finished in a desolate mumble, thinking of the flight of Central's ships on its way.
Rie only watched her solemnly for a moment before saying, "Time to rinse," in a noncommittal tone.
Anya was docile under Rie's ministrations as she rinsed and dried her, slipping another hospital gown over her nakedness. When she was done, Anya grasped her hand to catch her attention. "Thanks, Rie."
Her friend smiled in her usual serene way. "There is no need for thanks. You would do the same for me." Twisting her hand in Anya's so that her arm could support her elbow, she led her out of the lavatory.
Jar and Ces looked up with smiles, apparently done bickering. "Hey, girl, get over here and dig in. Eat fast, 'cause it's getting cold. Plus, we've had to beat your visitors off with a stick."
"Visitors?" Anya asked as Rie helped her into bed and fussed with the blankets over her legs.
"Babe, there's a freakin' line form
ing out there," Jar said as she settled a tray of food across Anya's lap. "Somebody leaked the news that you were awake." Jar glared over her shoulder at Cesna, who shrugged without apparent remorse.
"There can't be that many people wanting to see me," Anya denied, picking up the fork and waving it at the door. "Just let them in." She took a healthy bite of the crepe on her plate and chewed with enjoyment until she noticed the silence in the room. Looking up, she swallowed hastily to see the three of them gazing at her with a level of seriousness that was alarming. "What?"
Jar sat on the side of the bed, taking Anya's unoccupied hand in hers. "There's something we need to tell you. I'm afraid the captain's done something that you probably won't like."
Anya put down the fork carefully, not taking her eyes from Jar's. This was going to be bad. "What did she do?" she asked through stiff lips.
"She couldn't keep what happened with the destroyer a secret. It's impossible to hide a ship that size, and too many people saw the captured crew. So she broke the news to the general population. She didn't exactly lie, but she put a hell of a spin on it," Jar said in a dry tone. "According to her, big bad Central sent a destroyer to threaten the station with no regard for its occupants. They wanted to steal our angel away and give her to the Guild for study. I didn't hear her give any details on that, but the rumors have you being abused, tortured, dissected—ugly stuff like that. Anyway, the story is that you selflessly gave yourself up to save the station and then single-handedly fought off two rabid telepaths and a full crew of angry shiphands, before delivering the destroyer into the captain's hands and nearly killing yourself in the process." She paused, her eyes filled with solemn gravity. "You're their hero, Ani. They see Central as their enemy now and you as their savior. The captain's made you her figurehead."
Covering her eyes with a despairing hand, Anya methodically went through every curse word she knew, grinding them out through clenched teeth. When she was done, she sat for a long moment in silence, thinking about what the captain had done. And then she started again. Her friends waited, occasionally offering a curse she'd missed, until she fell silent and dropped back against the raised head of the bed, an arm flung across her eyes.
Then Jar cleared her throat and added to her misery. "She also told her personnel to circulate the story of the assassin. And what you did about it. I'm sorry, Ani, but damned near everybody on this station is acting like you're some kind of goddess."
"Shit," was the only curse she had for that one, her voice a tiny ghost of its former self.
"Yeah," Jar agreed, patting her hand in commiseration. "On the bright side, I haven't heard a single person wig out about your talent. The captain managed to break the news in a way that made everybody not only accept what you can do, but admire you for it. Better than a witch hunt, I suppose."
Anya lifted her arm and glared at Jar. "That's just great. Central's coming here with a whole stinkin' fleet of ships, and everybody's going to look to me to save them. If that's your bright side, just shoot me now."
Jar grinned and patted her hand again. "Eat your breakfast, Oh Glorious Goddess. You'll need your strength."
Anya started on her list of curse words again, and Jar rolled her eyes, pulling her to a sitting position. Shoving the fork into her reluctant hand, Jar pointed at the plate with a warning glare. With a sullen snarl, Anya attacked the crepe on the tray with something a few light years west of enthusiasm. Under the stringent eye of her friends, she ate and grumbled between bites about what she'd do to the captain when next they met.
Which was just after her last bite of crepe. As Jar took the tray from her lap, the door opened, and Captain Jamison breezed in as though she hadn't a care in all the worlds. "Anya dear, you look much better today. How do you feel?"
"Come closer, Marta," Anya said, keeping her voice level with an effort. "I feel this overwhelming need to strangle you."
The woman had the temerity to smile as she came to stand at the end of the bed. "I'm glad to see your strength returning."
"What is wrong with you? Jar tells me you've convinced the people of this station that I'm some kind of —of—"
"I see that you're angry with me."
"Very astute," Anya snapped.
"But you have no reason to be. I had only your best interest in mind."
"Oh please!" Anya scoffed, eyeing the captain with a curled lip. "Just admit it—you're using me for your own ends."
The smile was still hovering around Marta's mouth, her dark eyes bright with amusement. She didn't seem at all put out by Anya's distrust. "What I will admit is that you gave me an opportunity that I could not pass up. One of my biggest concerns with breaking from Central was how the station populous would react. Logical explanations and reassurances don't counteract fear and suspicion very well with the general public. They needed something to believe in, a symbol that would focus their hopes. You stepped so neatly into that role, how could I not act on it?"
"So it's somehow my fault that you're using me as a pawn?" Anya asked with indignant belligerence.
"Now, Anya, you're no one's pawn. I haven't asked anything of you, have I? It's your own actions that have brought us to this point. After all, if you act heroically, you shouldn't be surprised when someone calls you a hero."
"I'm no damned hero," Anya muttered, glaring at the captain. "I was just trying to save you from doing something really stupid. And it backfired. I didn't think it through, and all I've done is make things worse. According to Jason, there's a whole damned squadron on the way."
Marta chuckled. "Yes, you certainly stirred the hornet's nest. Quite a bit more dramatic than what I had in mind, but I can't complain with the results."
"Can't complain…" Anya stared at her aghast. "Just what do you plan to do when they get here?"
"Show them that they're outmatched," the captain answered with perfect confidence. "I'll let you get on with your visits now, but don't let them tire you. It's good to have you back, Anya. You frightened us for a while there," she said with a smile and a pat on Anya's blanketed foot. Turning to leave, she paused and glanced back to say, "By the way, thanks for returning my second to me." With a wink, she strode briskly from the room.
"That woman scares the crap out of me," Jarden said in a flat tone.
Anya didn't answer—she was too busy swallowing her own fear.
The rest of the day, Anya watched an endless stream of people march through her room. Most of them she didn't know and had never met. But they greeted her with endearing enthusiasm, their faces shining with hope and affection. The majority simply wanted to wish her well, but for the few that brought up the subject of the destroyer, Anya tried to explain what had really happened. It was a useless effort. Either they ignored her comments or they nodded sagely, as if she was confirming every ridiculous thing they'd heard.
"They think you're being modest," Jar murmured at one point, her expression rueful.
After that, Anya stopped trying to explain. After a while, the faces started to blend together, but there were a couple of moments that stood out. One was Frank's visit, though he stayed only a minute. Anya smiled into his dear face with tears in her eyes and hugged him close, thanking him for his efforts. The other was the Thlassnian.
There was a hush when he appeared, gliding into her room with mesmerizing grace, his scales gleaming like a jeweled flame. He bowed to her and courteously enquired as to her health. Anya stumbled over a reply, not remembering afterwards what she'd said.
"That is good to hear," he responded, so she must have been comprehensible at least. "I bear you a message from the Dreamer. She requests an audience with you when you are able."
"Oh, I—uh…" was her witty reply.
"Are you agreeable?" he asked, seemingly unperturbed by her awkwardness. She had a feeling that he'd had lots of practice.
"S-sure. Tomorrow?" she squeaked.
He smiled, and the scarlet flare of his eyes made her muscles feel like water. "I will convey your response.
It will be our pleasure to receive you."
Anya felt her face flush at that and silently cursed herself for being a pervert as he gave her another bow before leaving. She heard a whimper next to her and glanced over to see Jar holding Cesna back with an arm around her waist. Jar met Anya's gaze, and they began to giggle, both at Cesna's too obvious lust and their own involuntary responses.
"It's not funny," Cesna moaned, slumping in Jar's hold. "I think I'm dying."
That set them off into gales of laughter, and after a little while Ces joined them, Rie watching them all with a tolerant smile.
By the end of the day though, Anya was all out of laughter. Bone weary, she struggled to remain gracious, but there didn't seem to be an end to the line running out her door. Her friends repeatedly tried to disperse the crowd without success. By the time Jason strode into her room, she had nearly reached the end of her tolerance and was preparing to throw a tantrum. Thankfully, she didn't have to.
Jason took one look at her face and then turned on the crowd of people. "Out," he growled, his expression unyielding.
Without a word of protest, they went. Some even smiled, looking from him to her with bright eyes. She had a sneaking suspicion that her relationship with Jason was now about as secret as her talent.
He turned a frown on her friends as he approached the bed. "I told you to take care of her."
"Yeah well," Jar sighed as she slumped into a chair against the wall, "Next time give me a couple of shockers to do crowd control, and we'll be set."
He made a derisive noise in the back of his throat as he sat next to Anya, leaning forward to brush her lips with his. She sighed when he raised his head, immeasurably glad to see him. His presence made her world right again, as if he was a piece of herself that had gone missing, but had finally found its way home.
"Long day?" he murmured, his dark eyes concerned as he traced the curve of her cheek with a gentle stroke of his fingers.
"You have no idea," she sighed, weariness pressing down on her like an enormous weight.
Angels and Ministers of Grace Page 27