Marked for Surrender [Marked 4]

by Jennifer Leeland

  He gritted his teeth. Why couldn't he leave well enough alone? If he'd just turned a blind eye... But that wasn't who he was. He might as well wonder why he had brown eyes.

  "It just doesn't make sense,” Christophe muttered.

  "That the council wants us dead? Not to me either,” he said.

  "Well, that and a lot of other things.” Christophe's brow furrowed. Zevon loved that expression. Christophe looked like that whenever he had a particularly challenging project. He was brilliant at advertising because he had statistics and trends from thousands of sources in that amazing brain of his.

  "What's bugging you?” he asked. It usually helped Christophe to talk it out.

  "Either Pavlik isn't as smart as we thought or there's more going on.” Christophe focused on the ceiling. “He had enough control of the council to bypass our trial, and none of the evidence was scrutinized.” He focused on Zevon. “He could have killed us long before we reached Muan.” His gaze swiveled to Andia. “And he arranged it so we'd be under you. Why would he do that when you're known as someone who ferrets out truth?"

  "Maybe he thought I'd be blinded by my prejudice.” Her face was blank, unreadable.

  "He's not that arrogant, Mistress,” Christophe said absently, lost in thought.

  Zevon noted her eyes narrowed, and she seemed irritated. He grinned. “He's in full geek mode."

  She shot him a glare and then stared at Christophe. “Pavlik has taken three council members as his submissives. He's manipulated the system, and I think he's probably a traitor. That sounds arrogant to me."

  "Don't misunderstand me. I didn't say he wasn't arrogant. He isn't arrogant enough to base an entire plan on your possible emotional response.” Christophe delivered this with no inflection, but Zevon knew how it would sound to Mistress Andia.

  Was she offended? Yes. None of it showed on her face or in her tone. “Perhaps he was confident in the evidence used to convict you. By my research, you are both traitors to Nylar and deserve severe punishment. Why wouldn't Pavlik believe that I would deliver it wholeheartedly?"

  Christophe focused on her. “I've offended you."

  "You think?” Zevon said, amused.

  Helplessly, Christophe turned a pleading look on Zevon. He sighed. “Andia—” He stopped when she narrowed her eyes at him and tried again. “Mistress, what Christophe is saying badly is that Pavlik takes every contingency into account. This is not just about getting rid of two nosy employees who stumbled onto his traitorous money-making scheme. This is about discrediting you as a Mistress."

  The color drained from her face, and Zevon wished he'd been less blunt. “Discrediting me?"

  "Can you think of someone who would want you gone?” Christophe leaned forward, and Zevon shook his head. His lover was like a dog with a bone when he was like this.

  "No,” Andia said stiffly. “No one. I'm good at my job."

  "Maybe you're too good,” Zevon suggested.

  "No, that's not it,” Christophe muttered. He glanced up and met Andia's glare. “I mean, you've been a Mistress for twenty years, right? Why now? That's the question. Why does Pavlik want you out of the picture now?"

  "Shut up,” she suddenly snapped, and Zevon widened his eyes. “I don't want to hear any more. It's all been a mistake. Think whatever you want, but I don't want to hear it.” She turned to the controls and ignored the two men.

  Zevon and Christophe exchanged a glance. Zevon understood. Her whole life had been spent as a Mistress. She'd built a fearsome reputation based on integrity and toughness. All that was being swept away because of them.

  Fly the fucking shuttle. That's all he could do. Zevon bent to his task and tried not to let the silence in the cockpit bother him.

  Maybe it was because of the time he'd spent with Christophe. Zevon had always been accused of being insensitive and self-absorbed. A year ago, he wouldn't have speculated about Mistress Andia at all. He certainly wouldn't have given a shit that her entire life had been turned upside down by two men who were accused of treason.

  Christophe was the sensitive one, always tapping into other people's emotional baggage. Zevon had been clueless about Pavlik. It was his lover's insight that had given Zevon a heads up about the man. It hadn't saved them, though. But perhaps it had made the shock of the betrayal and the lies a little easier to deal with.

  What other shit was he going to roll around in his head so he could avoid thoughts about what had happened when she fucked him at the conclave? He gritted his teeth and forced himself to look at it, think about it, tear it apart.

  He'd always believed he was a dominant. Not so much. He'd thought if anyone else touched Christophe, he'd go berserk. Wrong again. He had been convinced he'd never go down on his knees for anyone. Definitely not true.

  Masochist? Yes, he loved the pain. But the facts were clear. He'd gotten his rocks off being at Mistress Ball Breaker's mercy. He'd loved it, relished it, and wanted to do it again.

  What were the chances of that?

  "Deep in thought?” Mistress Andia snapped him back to reality.

  "There's a lot to consider.” He checked the console and wouldn't meet her stare.

  "Zevon,” she said in a hard tone. “I'm not blind."

  Finally he lifted his gaze and injected all the defiance he could into his look. “Did I say you were?"

  Christophe made a sound of protest, and Andia held up her hand imperiously. He abruptly closed his mouth. Zevon raised his eyebrows.

  "You can walk around it. You can lie about it. You can pretend it isn't there.” She reached over and stroked his knee. “But that feeling isn't going to go away.” She tightened her lips and turned back to the console. “No matter how much you'd like to deny what you are, the facade will wear thin. Trust me."

  "Speaking from experience?” he sneered. “Oh wait. You were tested a Mistress at fourteen."

  "Zevon, don't,” Christophe said softly. Yes, his lover knew Zevon only sneered when he was cornered or frustrated.

  She didn't glance at him at all. “Just because someone tells you what your nature is doesn't mean it's what you want to be.” Her voice was emotionless, but he sensed the powder keg underneath. “Once I accepted my nature, my female dominance, my life made sense."

  "Sure. It makes total sense now, doesn't it?” Frustration, helplessness, and rage at their situation boiled over and aimed right at the woman beside him. It wasn't her fault, but he heaped it on her anyway.

  She kept her attention on the console. “What happens in my external world doesn't disrupt the core of me, Zevon.” Finally she turned her head to meet his furious gaze. “Can you say the same?"

  No, he couldn't. And she knew it. Damn her. Damn them all. He shoved away the controls and snapped open his straps. “I don't need this shit."

  "Sit down,” she ordered.

  Before his brain kicked in, before he understood what she'd said, he sat.

  Holy shit.

  Something inside him broke. Before she opened her mouth to say another word, he shot back to his feet and scrambled for the back of the shuttle.

  He shut the door to the cockpit with a resounding slam, then slid to the floor. Everything he knew about himself had been destroyed. He put his head in his hands and tried not to shake.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seven

  Stunned, Christophe stared at the door Zevon had just slammed. Andia had continued to fly the shuttle as if nothing had happened.

  "He's not a submissive,” Christophe stated. Yet doubt crept into his mind. He'd seen what happened to Zevon at the conclave and attributed it to their circumstances. But here, in the shuttle, Zevon was free to be his dominant self.

  And he had responded to Andia the way Christophe responded.

  He blinked at Andia. Something about the way she commanded Zevon, something about the way she commanded him filled a need he hadn't known he had. Perhaps it was the same way for Z.

  She hadn't responded to his statement a
nd stayed focused on their flight path. When she did speak, she didn't turn her head to look at him.

  "Most people don't know this, but there are men who have lived happy, productive lives after a stint at the conclave."

  "By happy and productive, I assume you mean ridiculed and shunned,” he snapped. Was she really so heartless?

  "I mean, being a male sub doesn't have to mean a death sentence.” She still didn't turn her head. “There are other places, other planets."

  "We won't see any of them as long as we're hunted,” he pointed out. “Pavlik's reach extends into the Terran Interstellar Force. He's ruthless and persistent."

  "Why did you hide it? Why didn't you tell the council—"

  "We never spoke to the council, Mistress,” he interrupted. “We saw our trial on the vid streams, just like everyone else.” He studied her profile. “You must know that. I can't imagine you didn't read all our information."

  "I did. But I had hoped it was...a mistake.” Her jaw clenched, the muscles tight. “Here's our destination."

  Christophe glanced out the viewscreen. It seemed snow covered everything, and the only color was the occasional evergreens that dotted the landscape. They were headed for the higher elevations of a mountain range bare of everything but rock and snow.

  Andia pressed several buttons, and they began to glide toward a shelf that connected two high peaks. Suddenly a large slab of rock slid away from the northern spire, and she maneuvered the shuttle through the opening.

  The rock ground closed behind them.

  "Where the hell are we?” Christophe asked her, peering into the black.

  "This is Mya's hideaway where she came on her vacations.” Andia's smile was sad. “I always thought it was strange that she came to a place more remote than the conclave."

  "She brought you here?” Christophe followed Andia's lead and unhooked his safety straps even though he wasn't sure he wanted to step out of the shuttle.

  "No.” Andia's remote expression was difficult to read. “I discovered it."

  "Do I want to know how?” He narrowed his gaze on her face.

  Her lips tightened. No, she wasn't comfortable with this at all. “Probably not. I invaded her privacy, dug a lot deeper than the usual check.” She shook her head. “I learned early on in my career that a guard that's untrustworthy can be destructive."

  Abruptly, Andia swung out of her seat and through the exit from the cockpit. Something there, definitely.

  Zevon stood at the door of the shuttle, his body tense, ready for an attack. Andia brushed by him and strode down the steps into the gloom.

  When Christophe studied Zevon, he was shocked to see his dominant's face was pale and pinched. Whatever was going on within him, it wasn't pleasant. Christophe reached out, but Zevon flinched away.

  Christophe dropped his hand. His earlier thoughts seemed hollow. He'd believed that no matter what happened at the conclave, he would still love Zevon, still belong to him. But what could he do if Zevon left him?

  This wasn't the time to worry about that.

  He turned and followed Andia into the darkness and wondered if he'd lost Zevon for good or if the darkness within would swallow him whole.

  Light flooded the bay where they'd landed, and Christophe stared. The landing site was a crystal cave, like the inside of a geode he'd once seen. Andia handed him a lantern globe.

  "Come,” Andia said.

  Christophe glanced back at Zevon. He stepped out of the shuttle, and the colors of the crystals glittered in his dark eyes. But other than a flicker at his surroundings, Zevon didn't show any response.

  The cave narrowed at the northern end to a tunnel that spiraled down with roughly carved steps. The rock walls were embedded with colored stones that shone in the globelight. They twinkled and sparkled like Christmas lights.

  The stairway ended at a huge cave with several entrances. Andia strode to one of the ancient wooden doors and pressed a code into the key lock. The door creaked open. There weren't many doors like this one. Technology had replaced the old wooden ones with smooth grack alloy that slid open. Christophe stroked his hand over the wood and reveled in the way it seemed warm to the touch.

  The interior beyond the door was more amazing still. Andia's guard had a taste for history. Wooden furniture with natural fiber cushions filled the room, and ancient texts were on shelves. Expensive. Not many people had old books preserved so well.

  Mya was an interesting person who Christophe now regretted was gone. He glanced at Andia. Had she been close to the guard? Or had she just used the woman's skills? It was hard to tell from Andia's face, but the way her fingers tightened on one of the cushions as she strode past seemed to indicate strong feelings.

  "Sit down and be comfortable,” she said. “I'll return in a moment."

  Andia disappeared behind a doorway to the right, leaving the two men alone.

  It wasn't enough that they'd been through hell. Now they had to put each other through hell. Clearly what happened at the conclave made Zevon think Christophe wouldn't want him. Well, fuck that. Christophe strode across the room and gripped Zevon's neck.

  His head snapped up and he glared at Christophe, but it didn't deter him. Christophe pressed his lips to Zevon's and demanded a response, any response.

  Zevon shoved him away. “Stop it."

  "No,” Christophe said softly and came right back. Zevon's hands came up to shove him back, but Christophe gripped them, used them to yank him closer.

  Their lips almost touched when Zevon said, “She's going to break me, Christophe. And I won't be the man you loved."

  "Shut the fuck up,” Christophe murmured and kissed him. This time, Zevon took over, plundering Christophe's mouth violently, his hands clamped on either side of Christophe's head.

  Nothing had changed. When they came up for air, Christophe stopped Zevon's next attack with one word. “Love."

  "What?” Zevon blinked.

  "You will always be the man I love. Always."

  But the words didn't have the effect Christophe had hope for. Zevon stared at him and then stepped back. “And Mistress Andia? What is she to you?” He released Christophe abruptly. Zevon's voice was gravelly when he spoke. “Do you think I don't know?"

  "Know what?"

  "I know what she gave you. I know what she can do for you that I can't.” Zevon paced the room, his shoulders tense.

  "You're right,” Christophe admitted. He couldn't lie to Zevon. “She does do something for me that you can't."

  Zevon froze and then nodded, numb pain in his dull gaze.

  But Christophe went on. “She made you whole. Why didn't you tell me you liked pain?"

  The only movement from Zevon was his throat when he swallowed. “I didn't think it was important."

  Christophe couldn't believe it. He studied this man, his lover, his friend. “Didn't think it was important,” he echoed.

  Zevon moved his shoulders impatiently, an action Christophe was achingly familiar with. “I didn't want that kind of thing from you.” Zevon's words hit him like a blow.

  Three years and it had all been bullshit. Zevon had settled for Christophe, believing he couldn't have what he really wanted.

  But then, he had to think about how Zevon had taken his words. Christophe had admitted Mistress Andia filled a hole inside him he hadn't known existed. Yes, she dominated him. But unlike the force of a man's domination, the only thing Christophe had ever known, she drew his surrender from him rather than taking it. Instead of the violence of being overwhelmed, her style was to wait until he gave it willingly. There were parts of himself Christophe kept hidden, savoring the day when he would want to give those tidbits to a lover. He'd always believed that lover would be Zevon.

  Christophe had never felt like he'd settled for Zevon. With Zevon, Christophe was able to be the sub he'd always wanted to be but had been too afraid. It was through Zevon's dominance that Christophe had recognized his need for more.

  Besides, he was greedy. He
wanted both of them.

  The dark recess of the cave was still hidden, untouched. Andia breathed a sigh of relief. So far, whoever was after them hadn't discovered her guard's getaway. Mya had been almost paranoid about her privacy, and now it paid off. But not for Mya.

  Andia tightened her lips. Someone was going to pay for Mya's death. Had they thought the Ball Breaker would let this pass? Well, they thought she'd be dead.

  The cave was a contrast to the ancient Old Earth feel in the other part of Mya's fortress. Every technological wonder filled the space in this well protected and shielded room. Mya had wanted her privacy, but she hated being out of the loop. Consequently, she'd bugged every conclave to keep up on the Mistress gossip.

  With a smile, Andia pressed several buttons on the console, remembering when Mya had finally revealed this room to her. She hadn't been surprised or angry when Andia found her mountain home, but Mya hadn't shared herself willingly. Until that day. They'd been colleagues for over eight years when a prisoner had almost killed Mya in a freak accident. It had been Andia who had killed that man, saving her guard's life and earning a place in Mya's life forever.

  Mya had been amused at Andia's squeamishness at listening in on conversations of other Mistresses. Somehow it had seemed like cheating to play politics with that kind of advantage. But Mya had no qualms at all, believing that the petty bickering at other conclaves could become useful.

  Now Andia had to know what was being said about the attack at Muan.

  She switched the various screens on and watched as the other seven conclaves came online. With her parameters, the system filtered through video, only focusing on discussions about Muan and Mistress Andia.

  The conversations shocked her.

  The council had informed the Mistresses that Muan had been retired permanently, that the building was too remote to remain active. Her own “reassignment” had been announced as a special envoy to the council.