by Unknown
“I don’t need a partner,” Shanee snapped from between clenched teeth. “And even if I did, I’d ask for a female.”
“Actually for the next assignment I have, it would be extremely helpful, Colonel, for there to be a female and a male on the team,” Strom said, and almost flinched when the Amazeen’s head snapped around and she gave him a killing look.
“He’s influencing you,” Shanee accused. “He’s using his gods-be-damned sublims on you, General!”
Ailyn sighed. “No, I’m not.”
There came a heavy pounding beyond the general’s office door. It was muted for it was being delivered against the door to the outer office.
“Jost,” the general grumbled. He reached over and flicked on the vid-com. He ordered the camera in the corridor accessed.
Ailyn was staring at the large vid-com screen that sat to one side of the general’s office. As the image came up, Shanee heard a low growl coming from her husband’s throat. When she glanced his way, she saw an expression on the Reaper’s face that made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.
“Vice-Counselor Jost and your brother Felix,” Storm reported softly.
Though there was no sound, it was obvious Jost was shouting. His face was red with anger as he pummeled the door with his fists. The young man beside him looked almost as angry as his stepfather. And then Jost kicked the door.
“That man is an idiot,” Shanee commented.
“He hired the assassin on the Midian,” Ailyn said, his fingers on the arms of the chair digging into the leather.
Strom looked away from the screen. “Are you sure?”
Ailyn nodded without speaking.
“Why would he do that?” Shanee asked. She had considered the vice-counselor to be nothing more than the nuisance Strom had labeled him.
The Reaper studied the irate man. “His mind is a quagmire of wickedness,” Ailyn said quietly. “He wants his wife dead so he can gain access to her fortune. It wasn’t your death he contracted for but mine.”
“So the Storian wasn’t after Shanee after all,” Strom said.
“No, he was,” Ailyn said. “I read it in his mind during the attack but he was being paid by Jost as well as whoever hired him for O’Shay. I just didn’t know that until now.”
“So what do we do?” Shanee asked. “Other than arrest Jost.”
“Not just yet. We don’t want to let him know we are aware of what he tried to do,” Ailyn said. “As I said, I’ll handle Jost.” He swiveled his attention to the general. “Let him in.”
Without a comment Strom got up out of the chair and walked to the door, opened it and went out into Miriam’s office.
“What are you going to do?” Shanee asked her husband.
“Keep quiet and listen, ionúin,” he answered, and then vanished before her eyes.
Shanee popped out of her chair like a jack-in-the-box, twisting her head this way and that trying to find her husband. Her heart was suddenly thudding in her chest for even though she’d seen Rory Quinn disappear on many occasions, she had not seen Ailyn do so.
Jost cursed Strom as he bulldozed his way past the general and headed straight for Strom’s office with Felix Harmattan striding close behind him. He came up short when he saw the Amazeen facing him. “Where is he?” he demanded.
“Where is who?” Strom inquired.
“The Reaper!” Jost shouted. He too was looking about the room.
“Do you see him?” Storm asked.
Jost’s jowls wiggled as he closed in on Shanee. “Where is he?” he demanded again. “Why didn’t you bring him with…?”
It was then the door to Strom’s office slammed shut, making everyone jump as all eyes went to the door only to find no one even close to the portal.
“Who the hell did that?” Jost snapped.
The chairs in which Ailyn and Shanee had been sitting suddenly lifted up from the floor and sailed across the room, governed by unseen hands. The two other chairs that sat before the desk soon joined the others.
Felix Harmattan stumbled back until his shoulders were pressed tightly to the wall. His eyes were wide, his mouth open and he appeared to be trembling.
Jost’s florid face paled and he rushed to the door and tried to open it but it was sealed shut, and no matter how hard he turned and twisted the lock, it would not budge. He spun around, his fearful eyes scanning the room. “He’s in here,” he said. “I know he is!”
Strom calmly took his seat behind the desk as Shanee walked to his side. They faced the general’s visitors with emotionless faces. “Why are you here, Vice-Counselor Jost?” Strom inquired.
“Show yourself, Reaper!” Jost shouted.
“I wouldn’t call him that if I were you,” Shanee said. “He doesn’t like it.”
To emphasize her words, one of the chairs levitated from the floor and became nothing more than kindling in the space of a breath. The debris fell to the floor.
Jost gasped and slid along the wall to get close to his stepson. “I meant no disrespect,” he muttered.
Two chairs rapidly skidded from the wall to in front of Strom’s desk.
“Sit down!”
The disembodied voice was harsh and threaded through with a savage growl that brooked no disobedience. Both Jost and Felix practically ran to the chairs across the room and sat down—Jost nearly tumbling from his, the chair tipping precariously before he managed to right it.
A faint smile hovered over Strom’s face as he leaned back in the chair. “Would you like to sit down, Colonel?” he asked.
Shanee replied that she’d stand. She could sense her husband near though she could not see him.
“Please, Ailyn…” Jost began.
“It is Commander Harmattan,” the Reaper said, and appeared. He was standing beside Shanee with his arms crossed, his stony glare directed at Jost. “You will never again address me by my given name. Is that understood?”
“Aye, Commander,” the vice-counselor was quick to agree.
Felix was staring at his brother with several emotions seemly crossing his young face. There was fear mixed with awe in his dark eyes but his mouth was mulishly set, his cheeks dotted with color. “And what is it I am to call you?” he asked Ailyn.
Ailyn shifted his stare to the young man. “You were but an infant in swaddling when last I saw you,” he said, his voice losing some of its animosity.
Felix’s chin came up. “I’m a man now.”
A hint of a smile tugged at Ailyn’s mouth. “Well, you’re on your way to becoming one at any rate.”
“Mother is dying,” Felix said. “She wants to see you before she…” He faltered. “You know.”
“She wants one of my fledglings so she can live,” Ailyn stated.
“By the gods, she doesn’t!” Felix said with a gasp. “You are…you’re a…”
“Reaper,” Ailyn finished for him. “And aye, Felix, all she wants is what I can give her.”
“How can you say that?” Felix questioned. “You are her son, her firstborn. She…”
“Hated me from the moment I was born and the only reason she’s willing to see me now is to gain a parasite to cure her,” Ailyn said.
Jost timidly raised his hand to gain the Reaper’s notice. When those amber eyes flicked to him, the vice-counselor blanched for there was cruelty and vengeance in that penetrating stare. “Will you…” He swallowed before he could continue you. “Will you give her a parasite, Commander?”
“You will be delighted to know that I won’t.”
“Ailyn!” Felix shouted, jumping to his feet. He did not hear his stepfather’s sigh of apparent relief. “You have to. If you don’t, she’ll die!”
“Do you think she cared about me while I was interned at R-9, little brother?” Ailyn asked. “She didn’t give a damn what they were doing to me.”
“She didn’t know,” Felix denied.
“Oh but she did,” Ailyn insisted. “It’s all a matter of record.”
Shanee
exchanged a glance with Strom. There had been no mention in the files either of them had read on Ailyn that indicated Elspeth Harmattan knew her son had survived the crash of his father’s ship the Abroholos.
“I don’t believe you,” Felix said.
“Vid-com on,” Ailyn snapped and the screen powered up. He didn’t bother looking toward the screen. “Access file EFB-ID 2648759515, password stinger.”
A copy of an ID card flashed onto the screen. In the center of the card was the picture of a young woman identified as Elspeth Briza. The document bore the seal of the Aduaidh Alliance.
“Our mother worked for the Burgon before Ryden Bakari,” Ailyn said. “I believe the correct term for what she was engaged in was called a honey pot.”
“That’s a forgery,” Jost said. “It has to be. A honey pot was an antiquated euphemism for spying.”
“Actually it was sexual entrapment to gain information,” Strom corrected him.
“She married our father to gain access to information needed by the Alliance. According to the official Alliance records, it was her knowledge of the movements and mission of the Abroholos that gave her handlers what they needed to destroy the ship and everyone on board it,” Ailyn said. “Access file #KGH-6197975652-A_05-14-2320.”
Documentation of the information—signed by Elspeth Briza—given to the Alliance regarding Duke Harmattan’s ship flashed across the screen which was split into two sections. The left section contained a vid-sequence of a flyover showing the destruction of the Abroholos.
“This can’t be happening,” Jost said, his face even paler than before. He buried his face in his hands. “This can’t be happening. She can’t be a spy for the Alliance.”
Felix walked over to the vid-com screen and read what was written there, his face washed out by the silvery glow of the screen. When he was finished he turned to look at Ailyn. “Even if this is true, she couldn’t have known what would happen to the Abroholos,” he said. “A woman doesn’t send her husband and her child to their deaths.”
“Ours did,” Ailyn said. “Access file ALH-6891234658-A_05-20-2320.”
The final document also came up on a dual screen. On the right side was a vid-sequence of Ailyn having a parasite dropped onto his back. On the left side was a signed authorization giving the Alliance scientist Perse Cean permission to use Ailyn LeVey Harmattan in their experiments. The document bore the initials EBH—Elspeth Briza Harmattan.
“Since she was a valued member of the Alliance, they had to get her permission before they could torture me,” Ailyn said in a flat voice. “She knew what was going on at R-9 but she gave that permission anyway.”
Felix was staring wide-eyed at the vid-sequence as Ailyn began to Transition. He finally tore his attention from the horror taking place on the vid-com screen and staggered to his chair. He sat down, staring straight ahead of him, his lips parted.
“She knew where I was, Felix,” Ailyn said, “but she didn’t care. She also knew where I was taken when I left R-9. I can’t prove it but I’d be willing to bet it was her finagling that got you assigned to the Revenge so you could discover me among the Reapers. Do you blame me now for not wanting to help her?”
“But she’s your mother,” Felix said, tears glistening in his eyes. He looked up at Ailyn. “She gave you life.”
The sound that came from the Reaper might have passed for a laugh had not those in the room not been looking at his face. “She gave me life, all right, and she tried to take it. When that didn’t work, she sentenced me to a hell you cannot even begin to imagine, little brother. I should let her have one of the hellions just so she’ll know the agony I went through because of her.”
“She’s been a good mother to me,” Felix said, but Ailyn could sense the lie his younger brother was telling. “Please, you have to help her.”
“No I don’t,” Ailyn said, stressing each word, and then he vanished again.
“Ailyn!” Felix shouted.
“Leave him be,” Shanee said. “He’s suffered enough because of your mother. Let her pay for what she did to him.”
Chapter Ten
He was waiting for her out in the corridor as she knew he would be. She said nothing as he held out his hand and together they walked toward the elevator. His hand was steady in hers, his flesh warmer than usual. They waited silently for the elevator to arrive. When it came, she saw his eyes search the cage before he led her inside and knew from now on that would be the case whenever she was with him.
“Two down and one to go,” he said as the elevator doors closed behind them.
“That was a cakewalk compared to what we’re going to face with my mother,” she told him.
“We’ll see,” he said. His gaze was on the panel showing the floors they were descending.
“Were those documents real?” she asked.
He nodded. “Only too real.”
“We didn’t know about any of that,” she said.
“You didn’t know where to look,” he said. “When we were first brought to Theristes, Tariq asked Bakari for all Alliance data that had been removed before the shutdown of the Reaper program and the Burgon complied. Tariq told me how to access that data. He thought I should know. He said he believed it would help me make my decision of whether or not to accept what it is I’ve become.”
“And it did,” she said.
“And it did,” he repeated.
“Strom should be given the data,” she said.
“He will be,” her husband agreed.
The elevator settled and they got off to take the tram to the hanger where Shanee’s runabout was docked. It would take them to her quarters outside the city.
Her runabout was a sleek midnight blue Fiach with a dark purple stripe from nose to elevated tail. The ship stood out among the other runabouts.
“Sweet,” Ailyn said as they neared the gleaming machine.
“If you play your cards right, ehemann,” she said, “I might let you take the controls once we’re out of traffic.”
He snorted. “Don’t trust me in traffic with it, huh?”
“It’s been awhile since you’ve flown, big boy, and things have changed considerably,” she chastised him.
“Think it, ionúin, and I can fly it with the best of them,” he reminded her.
She stopped—putting a hand out to halt him—and gave him a challenging look. “You believe that?”
“I know that, little Amazeen,” he replied confidently.
Her grin was all he needed.
Twenty minutes later he was sailing her precious little craft into the hanger at the complex where she was quartered. After settling the expensive Gearmánach vessel into its docking harness, he shut down the engine and turned to give her a wink. “How’d I do?” he taunted.
“Ask me that after you’ve survived my mother,” she mumbled.
“Oh,” he said. “Are those Class 10s in your quarters?”
“Aye.”
“Are they activated?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“Do me a favor and don’t activate them while I’m around,” he asked.
Shanee frowned. “All right but why? We may need them on our missions, ehemann.”
“On missions, perhaps, but not where I am living and sleeping, Shanee,” he said. “I hate cybots.”
“Not a problem,” she said.
Queen Polemusa was pacing the floor as the door to Shanee’s quarters opened. She whirled around to face the man who came in right behind her daughter. “Ich fordere Sie, Kanaille heraus!” she threw at him. “Außenseite im Hof!”
“Mother, really,” Shanee said, wincing at her mother’s challenge to Ailyn to meet her in the courtyard and calling him a cur. “This is…”
“Wenn Sie bereit sind, Ihren Esel unten sich setzen zu lassen, holen Sie ihn an, meckern,” Ailyn said in perfect Amazeen.
Shanee gasped. Her husband had nastily said, “If you are ready to have your ass put down, bring it on, bitch.”
Hissing like a cornered viper, Polemusa shoved past her daughter and her daughter’s mate and went outside.
“You can’t be serious!” Shanee said then narrowed her eyes. “When did you learn Amazeen?”
“I learned a lot of things while you were playing with Jules’ life,” he told her. “And I’m not going to back down to her challenge, ionúin.” He spun around on his heel and headed for the courtyard.
“The gods help me,” Shanee snapped, throwing her hands into the air. She went after them.
Neither Polemusa nor Ailyn were armed. The defense queen was wearing a short, white toga-like garment that accentuated the lack of a right breast. She had kicked off her sandals and was standing on the grass, hands on her shapely hips.
“Come on, Reaper,” she threw at him.
Ailyn swept his hand down his body and the black silk shirt and black leather pants were replaced by his beloved breechclout. His boots had disappeared as well.
Shanee saw her mother’s face alter slightly and knew she was sizing up the man facing her—not from a warrioress’s viewpoint but from that of a woman. She almost smiled as her mother licked her lips until Ailyn spoke.
“Like what you see?” he taunted.
The Amazeen queen yowled with fury. Like an enraged bull, she lowered her head and charged. Her fingers had arched into claws. As soon as she reached her opponent, he took hold of her and flipped her easily over his hip, setting her down almost gently on the grass before stepping out of her reach.
Scrambling to her feet, Polemusa charged again, but this time Ailyn grabbed her arms and fell backward, placing a bare foot against her midriff to cartwheel her over his head. She landed on her back with the air knocked out of her body.
Shanee grinned when her husband put his palms flat on the ground behind him and did a back handspring that arched his back then vaulted him to his feet. She could have hooted with laughter when he put his hands on his hips—not even breathing hard—while her mother lay gasping for breath.
“Need some help getting up, old woman?” he inquired.
Polemusa struggled to her feet and stood there bent over, hands to her knees. She lifted her head and gave the Reaper a hateful look before launching herself at him again.