Sara put her helmet on again, taking an extra moment to adjust it—and to make sure Mr. Leader noticed. Then she looked at Halliwell as pointedly as she could. At some point the guy had to notice she only obeyed the Old Man’s orders.
“Fall in,” Halliwell snapped.
“Sir, yes sir!” Sara snapped off a salute, spun and marched back to her group. With another sharp turn, she took her place with her playmates.
Helfron looked at Halliwell, his lips actually set in a pout.
“The Captain has duties, Leader. Discipline must be maintained.”
“True.” His head tilted, as he studied her again. “At least she is…obedient. It is a good quality in a mate.”
He said it like it was the only good quality he’d seen so far.
Briggs kind of coughed. Carey might have choked. They weren’t the only ones.
Sara couldn’t help it. She looked at Fyn and grinned. His brows were arched. Seriously arched. She stuck her tongue out at him. It drew the Leader’s attention to him.
Helfron walked up to Fyn.
“You are not one of them.”
Fyn shook his head, the movement sharp enough to make his dreads bounce against his back and shoulders.
“You are Ionian.”
This time just his lashes moved.
“Your people fought well. A pity.” The leader didn’t wait to see Fyn’s reaction. He turned and came up to Sara.
“You are almost pretty when you smile. You will smile when you are in my presence.”
Sara just looked at him, the sides of her mouth pulled down.
“Gaedon!”
Gaedon hurried to his side. “Yes, Leader?”
“These people received proper instruction, did they not?”
“Yes, Leader.”
“See that they all follow it.” He gave Sara a pointed look.
He turned and walked away from her, presumably to punish her. Sara stuck her tongue out at his back.
“Captain, please…”
Sara arched her brows. “Please…what?”
“There are strict protocols.”
“I heard.”
“Gaedon! We are waiting.”
He gave her one, last pleading look, then hurried after his Leader. It was kind of sad, seeing him like that. A real come down from his pompous parade the first time they met.
But not enough to make Sara change her mind.
Colonel Halliwell paused and said something to Carey, then left the bay. Carey looked at Sara. “Old Man wants you to pass on the throw down, Donovan.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re too pissed.”
Did she imagine a sigh of relief all around her? She looked around.
“Are you guys scared of me?”
“When you’re pissed, hell yeah.”
That from her own wingman?
“Really?” She stared at them for a long moment, then she grinned. “Cool.” Her gaze narrowed again. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better? Cause that would just make me more pissed.”
“Totally scared.”
Murmurs of agreement.
“That’s so sweet.” She looked at Carey. “But I need to do it, sir. I got a head of steam to burn off.”
Carey leaned close and lowered his voice. “I think I know a way you could do that without hurting anyone, Donovan.” He lowered his voice even more. “Think of it as a wedding present.”
Sara looked at him, color creeping into her cheeks.
“Go, while you can. I’ll send Fyn along after a discreet interval.”
Sixteen
While everyone, well, at least the colonel and the Old Man, thought they were having kinky alien sex, Sara and Fyn went up to the top of the ship and sat on the catwalk and held hands and talked. Fyn made holding hands almost as pleasant as alien sex, he was so thorough.
Had to love a guy who paid that much attention to detail.
They talked about when they were young, things they remembered, stuff they had in common, things they hated—nothing about the Leader or the Dusan. Sara wanted to avoid the subject, since he wasn’t going to be happy she’d volunteered to be bait for Adin.
“So what is it you’re trying not to tell me,” Fyn suddenly asked.
“What?”
“Your eyes give you away, too. What don’t you want to tell me?”
“Oh. That.” She looked down. “Let’s not ruin this time. I don’t want to think about any of it.” She looked at him hopefully. It was the truth. Just not all of it.
“Sara.”
His head angled, so he could look at her through his dreads. His brow arched, but it was his expression that did it. It was the cut-the-crap one, but with a bit of husband thrown in. Wow.
It worked, too. She heard herself tell him.
Pissed was an understatement.
“No. Not going to happen.”
“Fyn, it’s a good plan and you know it.” He just stared at her. “Okay, if I’m out of it, so are you.”
He opened his mouth…then shut it again. Opened it again.
“It’s different.”
“Cause you’re a guy?”
“I know you know how to fight, so fight. Just don’t…do this.”
“If I don’t, then Adin won’t come. Even if we win, it will just be a patch job, a temporary measure. If we don’t stand against them here, against them right now…it will just get worse.”
His expression didn’t change.
“Adin will lay waste to this galaxy and move on to mine, spreading his misery everywhere he can. And he might figure out how to get his hands on the Garradian stuff and be even more dangerous.”
“He doesn’t just want the stuff. He wants you.”
Sara didn’t flinch from his look. “I know.”
“You still have nightmares about what he did to you. What if—” He stopped. “He has more ships. More men. Even if the Gadi join us, it won’t be enough. And they probably won’t. They don’t have the will to fight anymore. All they’ve ever done is survive.”
“I know.” She hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about it, but she knew the odds were against them. The thought of seeing Adin again made her feel sick to her stomach…but part of her…wanted it. Part of her wanted to face him and beat him.
“Early in our country’s history, we were out manned and so out gunned. We’d been at war for a while and it wasn’t going well. It was winter. Our men were freezing and starving, dying of disease. Some wanted to give up. A man, a Patriot, named Thomas Paine wrote, these are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. We won that war, we won our freedom. And that was just the first time we won when everyone thought we couldn’t.”
She was quiet for a moment, then she looked at Fyn.
“We can do this. But even if we lose this battle…we have to do it. Failure is only final if you stop trying.”
He was quiet so long, she wondered if he’d ever speak.
“The summer solider…”
There was an odd note to his voice and he sounded…far away. She couldn’t read his eyes.
She tried to smile. “Where are you?”
He jerked and smiled. “I’m here.”
But he wasn’t. Not completely. She felt an odd, almost panic. She climbed into his lap and started kissing the side of his face.
“Let’s go down and…make me feel married. I think I need a little more convincing.”
He obliged with the proper amount of enthusiasm…but she still felt uneasy when she left him to dress for the dinner. Maybe it was time to start asking him some questions.
* * * *
When Sara arrived at the dinner party, she was not happy to discover she was the only woman in the
room.
Sara could see both full bird colonels, Carey, Gaedon, Mr. Pretty Leader and his security detail. And Briggs. There were some jarheads stationed around the room, too, their security guys, looking suitably intimidating.
Fyn had bailed. She didn’t blame him. Couldn’t be that fun to have some twerp looking your wife over like she was a heifer at an auction. But she missed him. It was definitely an odd wedding day, even for someone with low expectations.
Gaedon saw her enter and directed Helfron’s attention her way. She’d have to thank him for that later.
The Leader did another examination of her person, spending extra time on her legs, now that they were somewhat visible. Sara could feel her temper try to do its thing. This galaxy was bad for her self-control.
Gaedon approached her. “The Leader would like to speak to you, Captain.”
“It’s not like I’m hiding. He wants to talk to me, I’m right here.”
“If you read the instructions—”
“Actually, I didn’t get around to it. Sorry.” She smiled, well sort of. A no teeth one.
“You’re being very difficult.”
“I only promised to meet him.” She shrugged.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to talk to him.”
“You’re appealing to the wrong person.” Briggs joined them with a wide grin. “You want Donovan to move her ass anywhere the colonel’s the man for the job.”
Sara looked at him. “You just had to tell him, didn’t you?”
Sara turned back to Gaedon, but he’d already left, on a heading for the Old Man.
“Let’s get something to drink and see if it works,” Briggs suggested. “Wonder if they are serving actual booze this time?”
They were, but Sara still chose a glass of fizzy water. No reason to fuel her fire some more.
“Perhaps we could all be seated.” Kilburn was at his most diplomatic as he directed the seating traffic.
The Leader looked a bit smug when Sara finally had to enter his orbit. She’d been seated next to him—the same chair she’d sat in for Adin’s visit.
Great.
She saw Helfron look at her cover with distaste. He reached for it and she blocked his move with her forearm. He looked surprised. Sara was a bit surprised, too. She hadn’t meant to block him. It just happened. For a long moment they stared at each other through crossed arms.
He pulled his arm back, but he looked...not happy.
Actually, she wasn’t supposed to have it on, but since the leader hadn’t liked the Kevlar helmet, she figured he’d hate this one…and technically women could wear a hat indoors, as she’d pointed out to Carey when she sought his permission to wear it.
“Take it off.”
“Yeah, that’ll happen.” She pulled out her chair and dropped into it with an ungraceful plop. She knew she looked a bit sulky. She’d spent lots of time in various principles offices perfecting the look.
He sat down, too, a look that was almost bewildered on his face.
“Why do you do what he says, but ignore my commands?”
Sara looked at him. “Colonel Halliwell is my commanding officer. If I don’t obey his orders, I get shot.”
He frowned. “I am a guest. A leader of my people.”
“I know.” Sara looked at him, her eyes wide and innocent. “That’s why I haven’t tossed you on your pink ass.”
Gaedon may have whimpered.
“What is an ass?”
Sara’s brows arched. It was dang hard to insult someone in this galaxy.
“An ass is what you’re sitting on. For some guys, it is also where their brain is stored.”
This time Gaedon did whimper.
Did the leader’s lips twitch? He might have been amused. It was hard to say. He had the poker face thing down pretty good when he wanted to—though it was a very prissy poker face.
Sara reminded herself not to under estimate him. He hadn’t gotten to be leader just by wearing…pink.
“You could not toss me. I am a male. And my guard would stop you.”
Sara looked at the two men, flanking his chair. Those two couldn’t make her break a sweat, let alone stop her.
“Yeah, if it makes you feel better. Sure. They’d stop me.” She took a drink of water.
Now he looked openly amused. “You think you could…toss my men on this ass thing?”
She smiled then. “With my hands tied together.”
He sat back a bit, his pose an arrogant sprawl. “This I would like to see.”
Sara started to push her chair back.
“Captain.”
She looked at the Old Man. “Yes, sir.” Sulky did a come back.
The Leader held up his hand. “Please, Colonel. I would like to see this. I assure you my men will not injure her.”
“It’s not the Captain I’m worried about.”
Helfron’s brows arched almost to his blonde hairline.
“You do not know my men.”
“You don’t know Donovan.”
They exchanged long stares. Then Helfron snapped his fingers and pointed to the side. His two men moved away from the table.
Sara looked at them. They didn’t look ready. They were both in the poker-down-the-back stance and staring straight ahead.
Sara looked at the Old Man.
He sighed, but finally nodded.
“It’s their funeral, Donovan.” Briggs grinned a bit evilly.
Sara pushed back her chair and stood up, using her hands to smooth her skirt down, with just a bit of a hip wriggle. She was not above using feminine crap to tilt the odds in her favor.
She turned, stepping out of her low heels, feeling the floor with the bottom of her feet, finding her stance. Her skirt was too narrow for her to use her legs really effectively without a lot of sharing. She’d rather avoid it. She started thinking, planning her moves.
The two men had been staring straight ahead. Now she saw their eyes watch her, though neither man moved anything but the eye balls. They didn’t look too worried as she moved into striking distance.
Her arm flashed out.
The guy on the right blocked her with a look that was almost bored on his face.
“Not bad.” She gave him an approving smile, a half throttle one. Her fist shot toward the guy on the left.
He blocked it, too. A smirk edged out his bored.
“Excellent.” She smiled at them again, bumping up the volume on the smile. She gave a small sigh and fluttered her lashes, like she was giving up.
Their chests puffed a bit. And they took their eyes off her.
She spun toward the guy on the left, bringing her knee up into his groin. As he doubled over, the other guy started to move in on her. Her elbow jerked back, catching him in the solar plexus. When he doubled over, she applied some more elbow to the back of his neck. He went down. Not on his ass, but close enough to count.
She shouldn’t have been able to use that move on them again. Apparently they didn’t update their tactics after a skirmish.
She could have finished off the other guy, but it seemed like over kill. She left him standing there clutching himself.
When she sat down the silence at the table was…a bit intense. Sara finally looked at Helfron. His expression still didn’t give much away.
“Gaedon said you were…unusual.”
“Not to be offensive, but I’m really not. Just about anyone on this ship could take those two. Sparring isn’t about being the biggest or even the strongest. It’s about…physics.” Or some kind of science. Maybe.
“Physics?” He frowned.
“Force and counter force. Leverage—and surprise. You underestimated me. So did they. They probably won’t make that mistake again.”
He grinned. “Neither will I.” He leaned slightly toward her. “And you should not underestimate me.”
Please, don’t say it.
“You should know that I always get what I want.”
He said it.
She presse
d her lips together. That was about to change.
* * * *
Sara excused herself from the meal before dessert—a sacrifice but one she was willing to make—to go prep for the club. And because her stomach was roiling. Didn’t want to power puke it back up, not even into the Leader’s pink lap.
Sara hadn’t done anything too offensive at dinner. She didn’t want her behavior to reflect badly on the Old Man, the USAF or her country. Mostly she’d tried to ignore the Leader. When that didn’t work, she used monosyllables. And when those didn’t work, she’d just stare at him and blink. Then look away. Helfron didn’t appear to like any of it.
Life was a bitch sometimes.
There was one, bad moment when it become clear the Leader already had a bunch of mates back on Gadi. Something Gaedon had completely failed to mention during the negotiation. There was a tense silence at the table, while those who knew her waited to see what she’d say. Or do.
Sara blinked a couple of times. “How nice for you.”
The sighs of relief ruffled the edges of her hair.
“And for my mates. I am very demanding.”
Sara gave him a fake smile. “I noticed.”
And it made her nauseous.
She shoved her chair back. “May I be excused, Colonel? I need to change.”
In an odd twist, Gaedon seemed relieved to have her leave. Maybe he was nauseous, too.
She’d thought long and hard about what to wear. Now that she’d met the leader, she still wasn’t sure what the right move was. He was an interesting character study in contrasts. All that pink on the outside and on the inside…what?
Something about him reminded her of…something, if she could just remember what. Her brain-housing group had just had too much to deal with today. It was more inclined to ache than cough up obscure information.
She slipped into a pair of Capri length jeans, wondering where Fyn was and if he was all right. Something she’d said was bothering him. Surely he didn’t think that she thought he was a sunshine soldier?
She pulled on a shirt that left her mid-section bare, slumped off one shoulder, and hugged her body. She found the temporary tattoo and the faux belly ring she won at poker one night, and added them to ensemble.
She added mousse to her hair, crimping it to wind-tossed with her hands, then applied make-up that made her eyes jump out of her pale face. To her lips she added the same red as her high-heeled shoes.
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