Marked for Surrender [Marked 4]

by Jennifer Leeland

  Andia, her heart in her throat, grabbed the gold foil box and her bag. Then she set the security system with the code word “Apocalypse.” Mya had told her about it. Her privacy paramount, Mya made Andia promise to destroy the hidden place rather than allow anyone else to violate it.

  The countdown began, and Andia sprinted for the shuttle. Tears streamed down her face. It was as if Mya were dying all over again.

  Her hands were shaking so much she couldn't deal with the shuttle controls. Christophe placed his hands on her shoulders, and Zevon took over the shuttle.

  "Where are we going?” he asked.

  "Sethos Prime."

  Zevon shot her a surprised glance and then programmed the shuttle.

  They careened out of the hidden landing bay and straight through the atmosphere. The mountain exploded behind them, rock and debris cascading into the valleys below.

  "Mistress,” Christophe said softly. “I'm sorry."

  She shrugged away his hands. “She was my friend.” My family, really.

  "We're coming up on a gate.” Zevon activated the shuttle weapons.

  She glanced at the console. One ship followed them. It had to be Rina. “Merano,” she said.

  Zevon grinned. “Double gates. Good idea. I'll have to outrun our tail. How fast can this thing go?"

  "It's rated Tetras Ten, but I know it can go faster.” She began to reroute power.

  "Hang on,” Zevon told them.

  They hit the gate so fast Andia thought the ship would be tossed into black space. She hadn't done any gate travel in over three years, and these weren't the best circumstances to be reintroduced. Gates were man-made wormholes that cut through the light years of space and had various openings to different systems. Luckily Andia had kept her gate-mapping system up-to-date.

  Even one millimeter off and a vessel could careen out of the wormhole into the vast expanse of distance between galaxies and planetary systems. The only way into a gate was an entrance, but there were several ugly ways out of one.

  Zevon was a damn good pilot, though, and whizzed through the gate. He flew to the exit that dumped them in the Merano system, then without even slowing down, screamed through the gate to the Sethos exit.

  Even then he didn't relax, maneuvering the shuttle behind one of the moons of Sethos Blue. The all-water planet had three small moons, and all of them would disrupt the tracking system of their pursuer. Hopefully they'd lost their follower and could proceed to Sethos Prime. She wondered if the person chasing them would be safer than the planet they were headed for.

  Zevon shut off the engines, and the shuttle went silent. He turned in his seat, and the sheen of his dark eyes glowed in the dim light from the console. “All right. What happened?"

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  Chapter Ten

  The adrenaline rush from the flight from Nylar was beginning to fade, and Christophe realized they'd just come five galaxies away from his home. He knew very little about this system. Three planets, one covered with water, one a pleasure planet dedicated to every fetish known by every life-form, and one mechanized planet teaming with spy devices and a beaten-down population. Z probably knew more, but he wasn't sharing at the moment. He seemed annoyed, even angry at Mistress Andia.

  There was no support here, yet she had insisted they come to Sethos Prime. Zevon wanted to know why. And so did he.

  Andia had discovered something. He studied her in the subtle glow of the console lights. Her long, curly blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. It made her seem young and vulnerable.

  She faced him squarely, defiantly. “We're targeted by Rina."

  "The Brotherhood assassin?” Christophe burst out. “That's crazy. Why?"

  From the beginning, Andia'd had more information than they did. On the way to the Kyiaga mountains, Christophe had thought she might reveal some of it, but she'd kept her own council, sharing very little with them except her body. It frustrated him to be out of the loop with things that had a direct impact on him. He couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't trust them.

  "I only have a theory,” she said slowly. Cautious to the last.

  "Let's hear it,” Zevon snapped, and she narrowed her eyes into slits.

  "You do not order me, Zevon,” she said in a hard voice.

  "We're not in your conclave, Mistress,” he said. For a moment, their gazes clashed.

  Watching them, Christophe knew it didn't matter where they were. Christophe would submit to her, do anything for her, kiss the beautiful curve of her heel. Zevon would fight at first but surrender finally and enjoy the pain she inflicted.

  "It has to do with a conspiracy. One you accidentally uncovered and one I inadvertently helped foster.” She turned her head and stared out the viewscreen. “Twenty years ago, when I was a new Mistress, I broke a man named Anton Ivanovitch."

  "I remember him,” Christophe interrupted. “He sold secrets to the Brotherhood. Or did he?"

  She shot an amused smile at Christophe. “In this case, he did. Under the threat of his family's death, he gave important military information to the Brotherhood.” Her expression was serious and sad. “The Brotherhood wanted something else, something more that Ivanovitch wouldn't do. It seems he cooperated with the authorities to stop the leak.” She took a deep breath. “The things he'd actually given the Brotherhood were not that sensitive in nature and would have earned him a turn in rehabilitation.” Her fists curled into fists. “But when he refused to give the Brotherhood what they wanted, the bastards set him up.” Her mouth tightened. “He was convicted of a crime he didn't commit. Now, because of your discovery, Christophe, the conspiracy is unraveling."

  "My discovery?” His mind spun. What did a twenty-year-old leak have to do with the shipping manifests he'd uncovered?

  "That information about the bioweapons, the ones the Brotherhood paid you both for? It was identical to the information Ivanovitch supposedly sold twenty years ago."

  "Identical?” Zevon questioned. “That's insane. How could the council not know?"

  "I'm sure they did,” Andia said through tight lips. “The question is, why did Pavlik set you up, because that's what he did."

  "Pavlik is in league with the Brotherhood,” Christophe said firmly. “The evidence I found—"

  "Was put there to trap you,” Andia interrupted. “Why you?"

  Christophe searched his past for any reason Pavlik would want him dead, but nothing came up. “I don't know. I swear, Mistress."

  He glanced toward Zevon, who was lost in thought. If anyone could unravel Pavlik's motives, it was the man he loved.

  "That report I submitted to the council. Remember, Christophe?” Zevon's dark eyes narrowed.

  "Pavlik approved that report,” Christophe said, bewildered.

  "Only after I compared the symptoms to the disease that killed—” Zevon's breath hissed as he inhaled sharply.

  "Who? Killed who?” Andia insisted.

  "Christophe had described his father's death to me many times. As a child, it made a huge impression on him.” Zevon spoke to Andia but kept his focus on Christophe.

  Unwillingly, Christophe's mind went back to that horrible day. His father had tended the Circle Garden, a huge space station that orbited Nylar. The Blueshift Brotherhood had dusted the station, killing everyone and everything.

  Melted, deformed skin, deteriorated muscles, and complete DNA breakdown meant everyone exposed were pools of liquid humanity when they reached the planet surface.

  Christophe had been eight.

  He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the vision of his father's telltale mate ring floating in a pile of melted flesh.

  "If I didn't already believe you were innocent, that look would convince me,” Andia said softly. “And you were so young."

  "He still has nightmares,” Zevon said.

  Christophe opened his eyes. “Less, since you."

  One side of Zevon's mouth rose in a crooked smile. “You were ready to deal with it. I on
ly provided the motivation."

  "What does this have to do with Pavlik?” Andia asked.

  Zevon frowned, his dark brows drawing together. “Vezera was developing a biological defense weapon. It was supposed to be about vaccines, remedies for the bioweapons the Brotherhood used.” He pressed his lips together for a moment. “But I found out that the reactions to one of the most prominent antidotes Vezera was testing were the same as the descriptions I'd heard from Christophe."

  "We believed that we'd inadvertently created the same compound.” Christophe shrugged. “It's happened before. So Zevon made his report, stating that the compound was too dangerous to use, too similar to the weapon used against the Circle Garden."

  "Yes.” Andia nodded. “I found it ironic that the information sold to the Brotherhood was the same weapon you spoke against."

  Zevon shook his head. “I should have known then. But Pavlik seemed genuinely shocked."

  Andia snorted. “I'm sure he was. No one was supposed to know Vezera was manufacturing death."

  Christophe shuddered. He knew exactly what would happen if word got out that this product that was supposed to protect his planet from Brotherhood bioattacks was as bad as the attacks themselves. Pavlik's face was so associated with Vezera that he'd be crucified in the vid streams and public opinion would vilify him.

  The council had good reasons for suppressing the evidence of Christophe and Zevon's innocence. If Vezera stumbled, the markets on Nylar would falter since Vezera had diversified into every imaginable product.

  Pavlik clearly cooperated and dealt with the Blueshift Brotherhood, and that made him a traitor, regardless of his financial and political power. Only he, Zevon, and Andia could stop him."So what now?” Christophe asked.

  "When I hacked into the council's files on Ivanovitch, I found a name of someone who is undercover, trying to get information on the Brotherhood from the inside.” Andia pressed a button on the console, and Sethos Prime came on-screen. “He is there."

  Zevon shook his head. “We can't go there. Not with you,” he said bluntly.

  Andia glared at him. “I'm well aware of what we face."

  "Are you?” Zevon snapped, and Christophe sensed the fear beneath his sharp tone. “When I was developing a vaccine a few years ago, our ship ran into a Sethos Prime war bird. They boarded us and took all the women.” Zevon clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face bunched and tight. “Nylar protested, and the women were returned.” He tightened his lips. “Some of them wished they'd been murdered. None of them are back at work, too psychologically damaged to return.” He held Andia's gaze. “The Primarians only had our co-workers for two months. I don't want to know what they did to fuck those women up like that."

  "I know the stories,” Andia said; her face looked like it was carved out of stone.

  "The reality is worse,” he said.

  "They didn't take all the women, did they?” she argued. “The women who were mate marked were left behind."

  Christophe and Zevon exchanged a glance. She would know that. This was a volatile discussion for them. Even after Christophe had declared his love, tying himself to Zevon in every way but officially, there was always doubt between them.

  Zevon let out a sigh. “You're not marked."

  She leaned forward. “So mark me."

  Christophe gritted his teeth. A mixture of jealousy and anticipation made his stomach churn. He wasn't even sure who or what he was jealous of. He wanted to be marked. He wanted to mark them both. There was a jumble of emotion, and it surged forward, threatening to overwhelm him.

  "You're crazy,” Zevon said roughly. Christophe had to agree, but—

  Mistress Andia couldn't know the pain both he and Zevon had about this. She didn't know what she was asking. For Zevon to mark her, he tied himself to her. What would that do to the promises Christophe had made to Zevon? He placed his hand on Zevon's thigh. “She doesn't know, Z."

  "Know what?” Andia raised her eyebrows. “I know Zevon loves you, has wanted to possess you. But he can't mark you. If he could have, you'd be marked."

  "Stop it,” Christophe demanded. He didn't want to talk about this.

  "It's why he let you hide your secret, Christophe,” she said, implacable. “Because he could never possess you. Not the way he felt you deserved."

  Shock reverberated through Christophe's body. “Z? Is that true?"

  What could he say? Zevon hadn't put the thoughts into words, but Andia had nailed it right on the head. Christophe had always wanted a mate mark, a sign of belonging, that Zevon could never give him. Something in the chemistry of their relationship prevented it. So was that the reason he'd encouraged Christophe hide his submissive side, never revealing the true nature of their relationship?

  "Yes.” Zevon started to rise, to get away from them both, but Chris anticipated him and shoved him down.

  "Is that why you tried to take the blame for everything that happened?” Christophe demanded to know.

  "It was my fault."

  "We investigated it together. You may have done a lot of the legwork, but I helped you, hacked for you."

  Zevon smashed his right fist into his other hand. “For me. You did it for me. If I had let it go—"

  "Shut up, both of you,” Andia snapped. “Don't you get it? Pavlik wanted you both dead. He was going to get it done in whatever way he had to do it. The blame is his.” She gave them a steady look. “Marking me will protect me so we can contact Leo Eyler."

  He must have lost his mind. Zevon gripped her arm and yanked her to her feet, thrusting his face inches hers. “It will be permanent. Forever. You'll belong to me, wear my mark on your arm. There's no fire that can burn it off, no skin graft that can hide it. Whatever happens, you'll be mine."

  "Isn't that what you want?” Andia's chocolate brown eyes riveted him. In them he saw desire, longing, and power. So sure, so confident.

  He clenched his jaw and said through stiff lips, “I don't know. I want to possess you, tie you to me, make you mine the way Christophe is mine. I want that so much that I don't trust it."

  Andia didn't touch him, but she was so close that her breath bathed his face with her warm sigh. “Maybe you can't mark me."

  Christophe gasped. He immediately stepped aside, seeming unsurprised when Zevon jerked Andia toward the back of the shuttle. Why wouldn't she think that? He hadn't been able to mark Christophe even though they both wanted it.

  Dammit, he knew she was goading him, forcing him to do her will. He also knew she was right. This was their only option. He was going to wrest control from Mistress Ball Breaker.

  When he'd brooded in the back on their way to the cabin hideaway, he had noticed a series of modifications on the shuttle that intrigued him.

  He was satisfied to see Andia's eyes widen as he accessed the control panel.

  "How did you know about that?” she demanded.

  He smiled grimly. “I'm a bioengineer, but I like shuttles. I noticed this one had additions. You're a dirty little girl, aren't you?"

  She jerked on her arm, but he wouldn't release her. “I'm hardly little or a girl. I'm a Nyral Mistress."

  "Not at the moment,” he said in a low, purring tone. “At the moment, you are a Nyral woman who requested I mark her. But I'm not doing this your way.” He lowered a series of hooks and straps from the ceiling of the shuttle. “Christophe, get the stool over there in the cabinet."

  His lover moved quickly and unfolded a sturdy step stool from the cupboard in the wall.

  Andia struggled and fought. “What are you doing?"

  Zevon threaded his hand through her hair and forced her to meet his gaze. “I'm going to give you what you want, but I'm going to control this session, Andia. You didn't break me. I'm a dominant who will submit to you. But that cuts both ways. Are you willing to submit to me? Or was Mya the only one?"

  In her stillness, he had his answer. Mya had dominated Andia, tapping into a hidden part of her. He wanted her submission, her capitulation, eve
n though afterward he would kneel at her feet.

  With Christophe's help, he bound her hands behind her back and strapped her into a ten-point restraint that crossed over her breasts. Securely bound, Zevon pressed a button that lifted her off her feet and suspended her vertically.

  Then while she watched, he pulled out her bag.

  "What are you doing?” she said, her outrage making her voice hard.

  "You know, I always hated that all-knowing dom shit,” he mused, ignoring her question. He dug in her bag until he found the flogger he knew she'd brought with her. He would have. “I once did a role-playing scene with a female sub, and everything went wrong."

  Christophe, who had heard the story, chuckled. “All-knowing dom indeed."

  "She was a pain slut, and I didn't give her pain. That one used pain to get to submission. For her, the fight was more arousing than subspace.” Zevon swished the flogger through the air. “Let's just say that I had a tough time explaining the black eye I got from a submissive."

  "You're wrong again,” Andia snapped.

  "No, I'm not. You're like her. Pain is your thing, just like it's mine. You're not a submissive, but you'll submit to me, Mistress Ball Breaker.” He glanced at Christophe. “You, strip."

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  Chapter Eleven

  How the hell had he read her like that?

  Andia tried to breathe. Panic began to take over. Helpless, bound, and about to be marked, she didn't know if she'd shatter before she submitted.

  Mya had always been indirect, almost sneaky in her domination. Through pleasure and pain, her guard had brought her to a place where Andia could let go.

  But Zevon was like a tornado, ripping through her shields, taking rather than stealing. What frightened her the most was the way her body reacted—aroused, excited, wanting him to pillage her rather than cajole her.

  She hung from the ceiling, straps holding her so she wasn't stretched or uncomfortable. Her breasts jutted out, her nipples hard and aching. Her pussy was exposed, the straps positioned to spread her legs slightly.