Crimson Rain

by Jaye Roycraft

  “It’s quite all right, Mr. Hluodowig. I’ve heard worse,” she replied, smiling.

  “Call me Wig, miss. Everybody does. Anyway, Vaiz keeps his wits about him.”

  “Has Vaizya mentioned any of the Syn ships?”

  “Not specifically. Just that one must have sent you running with your tail between your legs for you to be in the Megaera.” Wig paused. “Alec.”

  Kylariz had been staring at his glass, nodding in response to Wig’s statements, but when Wig spoke his name, Kyl’s head came up.

  “He knows you’re here. While you were, er, occupied in the back, I sent runners to the Odalisque. A lot of people saw you come into town, my boy. And a good number of those recognized you. There’s a lot of speculation about your companion, though. A few think Sandy was with you, but more than not guessed you had a young lad or a woman. Stay on your guard. I don’t know what his plans will be, but they won’t be good news for you. Or her.”

  “I’ll be careful. We won’t stay here tonight. I don’t want to bring that kind of trouble to you.”

  Wig sighed. “It’ll arrive on my stoop anyway, I’ve no doubt. Don’t worry, my boy. I can handle whatever comes.”

  Kyl nodded. “Any news of Syn activity? Or of Dhagaz?”

  “I haven’t heard anything of Dhagaz. Of the Syn . . . rumors, Alec, only rumors.”

  “What sort of rumors?”

  “The usual. That they’re going to raid Ror and clean out this den of iniquity.”

  “Any timetable?”

  Wig shook his head, sending his long springy hair to bounce like branches in a brisk wind.

  “We’d better get going. Keep an eye out for a ship for me.”

  “I will. And for news. Where will you be?”

  “The Odalisque, of course. They have the best rooms. Besides, Vaiz won’t expect me in his own back yard.”

  “It’s dangerous, Alec. Vaiz practically runs the place. He’ll find out you’re there. You won’t be able to bribe anyone enough to keep your arrival secret. Pick a different place, son.”

  Kyl only laughed. “I like a challenge, Wiggy. You know that.” Kyl stood and extended his hand to the big man. “Thank you for everything.”

  “My pleasure, my boy. Just be careful.” Wig turned and took Dina’s hand gently and gallantly in his. “Meeting you was a joy, my dear. Try to keep this one out of trouble, will you?”

  Dina smiled, but Kyl laughed. “That, Wig, is like asking the exodite to keep the thief on the straight and narrow,” he interjected.

  She flashed Kyl a look as cold and hard as the stone itself before bowing to her host. “Thank you for all your hospitality. And I’ll do my best, as impossible a task as it is. You see, the thief always blames the temptations for his misdeeds, never himself.”

  A wide grin split Wig’s face, and he nodded his understanding, then tilted his head toward the rear as the broad smile shrank again to seriousness. “Best you go out the back, Alec.”

  Kyl nodded and guided Dina toward the rear of the building after gathering their packs from their room. Once outside, the cool, brisk air woke Dina’s senses even more to the danger of their situation. “Please, Kyl, not this Odalisque place. Wig’s right. It sounds far too dangerous.”

  “Be still!” he hissed into her ear. “All you have to do is walk and keep your mouth shut. That’s not asking too much, is it?” It was a question that desired no answer except her silence, so that’s what she gave him.

  They threaded their way through the narrow streets, and Dina felt the eyes of countless unseen faces on her, but the steady pressure of Kyl’s hand guiding her gave her strength and quieted her fears. At long last, he stopped in the shadow of a low, rambling structure. He entered through a recessed doorway and pulled Dina through after him. The door gave onto a small vestibule that contained no furniture and no decorations on the walls, simply a panel which instructed the visitor to deposit a specified number of credit chips through a slot in order to obtain a room key. Kyl popped several chips into the slot, and a key card slipped into his hand from another slot. Seconds later, they were in an unpretentious room. It wasn’t beautiful or spacious, but it was clean and contained all the necessities.

  “I thought you were going to tell me what’s going on. This isn’t the Odalisque, is it?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “I thought Wig was your friend. You lied to him.”

  “Wig is my friend. What I told him won’t hurt him, and it’ll make it a lot safer for us.”

  “You expect Wig to betray you?”

  “Not intentionally, but there’s the slip of the tongue, the wrong thing said to the wrong person, or plain old coercion, all of which can be encouraged by too much tap. And believe me, Wiggy’s not immune to this city’s major tourist attraction—the unlicensed, unregulated, unadulterated flow of the most potent tap in this quadrant.”

  Dina sat on the edge of the commodious bed and took the heavy cloak off, smoothing vagrant strands of hair almost absently as she stared at the floor. “You seem to know this place very well.”

  Kyl sat on the opposite side of the bed, pulled his boots off, with considerable more ease this time, and leaned back against the wall with a tired sigh. “Aye, I do.”

  “Do you really feel at home here, among . . . these people?”

  “I come here on business, Dina, not for the tap or whores. I come here because the Synergy isn’t here. I come because I can buy and sell goods and get information and supplies for my ship. It’s a haven. As repugnant as the city and its people may seem to you, it provides me with what I need.”

  Dina sat with her head bowed and gave no answer.

  “Come here.” The beckoning whisper floated to her and broke through her exhaustion and moodiness.

  She turned to look at him and couldn’t resist the lure of his warmth and strength. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and was in his arms in an eyeblink. She closed her eyes and nestled her cheek against the hard pectoral muscle until she could hear his heartbeat in her ear.

  “Well, I have a different idea of what a haven should be,” she whispered.

  ALONE IN THE BED, Dina snuggled down into the nest of satin petals. A moment later she stretched languidly, like a cat, arching her back, pointing her toes, and rubbing her cheek against the scented velvet blooms beneath it. Floating just below the surface of consciousness, she’d never felt better in her life. She was warm, safe, and swimming in the biggest bed of roses in the universe. She wanted to stay there forever, drifting with the suspended flowers, caressing the soft current, sealed away from all noise and cold. But her stomach rumbled, a shaft of red light touched her face, and she bobbed into wakefulness.

  In point of fact, the bed was hard and lumpy, even compared to the ground she was accustomed to sleeping on, but Dina was loath to leave it. Even without Kyl’s rangy length beside her, she thought that there was no sweeter sensation than burying herself in the twisted sheets and inhaling their warm, musky scent. Earlier, Kyl had awakened her, and they had stripped their clothes off and made love until they both succumbed again to their enervation.

  But as the sunlight probed the small room with greater force, the harsh realities of her situation prodded her, one by one, and reluctantly she sat up and looked around. The room was quiet, and there was no sign of Kyl. Her heart pounded with fear even though she had no reason to believe he would leave her. He wouldn’t, she thought, not after yesterday.

  But her mind started unreeling one “what if” after another, and with each, her heart raced faster. She bounded from the bed and checked to see if his things were gone. The backpacks were still hunched on the floor, leaning against each other, but his utility belt and breastplate were missing. Then, hidden in the umbra of the shadow thrown by the bunched folds of her cloak, thrown haphazardly onto the c
abinet the night before, she saw the scrap of paper.

  Hellfire, have gone for food and news. Do NOT leave the room, and don’t answer the door if anyone comes, even if they claim to have a message. The mini-rupter is in the pack, if you need it. Back soon. Kyl.

  Her heart quieted, but she frowned at the dispassionate words. Cold and imperious, as always. She knew it shouldn’t matter, but it did. Could it be possible she was falling for him? She sighed. She doubted he would ever change, no matter how many times they made love. His body sang to her and gave her pleasure beyond words, but not even the tiniest, most meaningless endearment ever followed. Except Hellfire. That was his sweet nothing. Best she accept it. His words from the day before came back to her. The Roven are not givers . . .

  She put the note down and took a hot, leisurely shower, washing her long hair until it squeaked. She had no fresh clothes to put on and wished now that she had taken a few moments last night to wash out a shirt and underclothes. She did this now, by hand, as the room had no washer unit, and hung them to dry. She retrieved the small rupter gun from the pack, wrapped herself in a sheet, and curled up on the bed to wait for Kyl.

  She thought about the days and weeks to come. What would happen? She huddled under the coarse fabric and brought the stained material up to her face, inhaling once more the musky reminder of last night’s passion. What future could she realistically have with this man? This place was crowded, noisy, hideous in appearance, and filled with a populace of lost souls that cared for nothing except their own pleasure and whatever they could take from the next soul foolish enough to wander into their space. And Kyl felt at home here. He could come and go as he pleased. He had friends here. She, however, was, for all intents, a prisoner, as though he still had her cuffed. She bowed her head, then leaned back in despair.

  The abrupt movement caused the pendant she wore to bounce lightly against the bare skin of her chest. She clutched the warm stone as if it were a life preserver, and her thoughts instantly turned to Rayn. Where was he now? Kyl had told her yesterday that it was 3.138.35, standard Glacian time. Rayn had been due to arrive on B’harata just a few weeks ago. Did he know of the Palladia’s fate? Would he make an attempt to find her? It was an impossible task. No one knew where she was or where Kyl was headed next.

  Two hours later, a soft knock came at the door. Dina was dressed and waiting in her still-damp clothes.

  “Dina. It’s Kyl. I’m coming in. Whatever you do, don’t shoot me. Dina?”

  “I hear you. Don’t worry, I won’t shoot.”

  Kyl used the key card to quietly let himself in. He sat on the bed beside her and kissed her.

  “Where did you go this morning?” she asked when he released her.

  “To see Wig,” he answered softly. “I want to make love to you.”

  After waiting for two hours with nothing to do but speculate uselessly about her future, she wasn’t in the mood. “No. Answers first. Had he tried to contact you at the Odalisque?”

  “I’m sure he found out soon enough I wasn’t there.” The chill in his voice told her he wasn’t happy with having his advances rebuffed.

  She cocked a brow at him. “Wasn’t he hurt that you didn’t trust him?”

  Kyl shook his head and fingered her just-washed hair, letting his gaze follow his hand. “No. I’m sure he thought I wisened up and took his advice to stay elsewhere.”

  “Did he have any news for you?”

  “Just that there’re no ships available right now.”

  “Kyl.” She wanted him to focus on her questions, not her body.

  He met her gaze, but his eyes were slitted.

  “Why do you and this Vaizya hate each other so? It isn’t some sort of competition to see who’s the baddest raider in the quadrant, is it?”

  He twisted a corner of his mouth. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Give me a chance.”

  Kyl sighed and ran a hand through his thick mane. “He is, indeed, ‘the baddest raider in the quadrant,’ as you so naively put it. I willingly grant him that dubious distinction. He deals in all kinds of cargo, hot and cold. He feels no compunction in buying and selling women and even children, and he has a well-earned reputation for using his goods before he sells them. I don’t hold any creature in the universe in less regard than Vaizya Repere, with the exception of Dhagaz.”

  “So why does Vaizya hate you?”

  “Because he knows I’m better than he is, but he won’t admit it. It makes him swell with self-importance to think he bested me. He denigrates me every chance he has in the tappers. Tells everyone I’m spineless and weak for only dealing in cold cargo.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “No. Those who believe his prattle aren’t worth caring for or worrying about. The rest know me by the reputation of the Phoenix, which is long and strong.”

  “And what exactly is your reputation?”

  “That I deal in cold cargo only is the truth . . .”

  She interrupted him with a clearing of her throat and a high lift of her eyebrow.

  “Very well, until you. When I had Sandy and the Tisiphone, I had the best pilot and ship. I don’t hurt anyone unless they deserve it. I deal fairly with those who reciprocate. With those who don’t, I’m ruthless and unforgiving. And, in spite of what you may think, I do care about my comrades. It’s a loyalty born of bonds I don’t think I could ever explain to you.”

  “Is that the ‘code of the Roven’?”

  He closed his eyes and paused before answering. “Aye. You could say that.”

  “Why is Vaizya so important to you if you think so little of him?”

  When Kyl didn’t answer, she ventured one for him. “You stick close to him to attract Dhagaz?”

  “Aye.”

  She hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming with her, but his seemingly honest answers emboldened her. She could prolong her question no longer.

  “Kyl.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her, the eyes shaded in that strange way of his, almost as though he wore dark makeup around his eyes.

  “What happens next?”

  He didn’t pretend he didn’t know what she was asking. “I find a suitable ship and a crew member or two. Both will take time, but shouldn’t be too difficult. The reputation of the Phoenix is strongest in this part of the quadrant, especially on Ror.”

  “Then what?”

  “I go after Sandy, of course. And the Tisiphone.”

  “And me?”

  “I can’t leave you here, obviously.”

  She quickly broke in. “You could take me to B’harata. You said yourself we’re close to the Deorcan Grid. Two or three months, and you’d be rid of me.”

  “It’s three months to B’harata and three months back. Six extra months is a long time for my friend to be waiting for me. No, Dina. Sandy is somewhere the opposite direction from Deorcas Tron. He’s my first priority. You have a cool head, most of the time, and you know how to handle yourself. Join us.”

  She rose from the bed. Her throat felt tight, and she struggled to keep the tears at bay. A member of his crew. And perhaps an on-board mistress. How convenient. The thought repulsed her.

  Kyl stood, grabbed a mug from the nearby table, and filled it with water from the tap in the bathroom. She shook her head, not knowing how to reply. “There’s too much IIB blood in my veins yet to become a criminal.”

  He drank from the mug for a long moment, then met her gaze. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  It was the closest he had ever come to voicing any strong feelings for her. Did he truly care for her? His simple words had just made everything harder. Uncertainty filled her, as it had when she’d waited alone for him to return, and confusion constricted her throat. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. She still loved Ray
n, but she couldn’t have Rayn. She was falling in love with Kyl, but a future with him seemed equally out of reach. Where did that leave her?

  “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she whispered. It was the only thing she knew at that moment.

  “Dina. There are warrants out for me all over the galaxy. It’s a little late for me to go straight now. Besides, I have . . .”

  “You have your revenge to exact with Duguerra Dhagaz. A fool’s mission that I’d never be able to talk you out of in a million years. So there’s nothing more to say, is there?”

  He didn’t answer in words, but the crockery mug that flew from his hand to shatter against the far wall spoke volumes. He was off the bed, grabbed his cloak, and was out of the room before Dina was through wincing.

  She let out a long, shuddering breath. Did she truly want Kyl? Did she want a future with him? She tried again to imagine a future with this man. She couldn’t, much as she raised the image of his striking features and beautiful body in her mind’s eye. Even with the most amiable of crew members, would she ever be thought of as anything but the “Roven’s Mistress”? She doubted it. She couldn’t even bear to think what more jaded raiders would call her.

  Damn him! Damn him for taking me off that ship! And damn his lust for revenge. Only one option was left open to her. That decided, she felt better and bent to pick the broken pieces of crockery off the floor. She felt an urgency now. She had no idea where he might have gone, and she wanted to be finished before he returned. Quickly cleaning the room, she sat down and wrote a brief note, leaving it on the table with his name on it. She gathered her things and picked the mini-rupter off the floor, where it had lain since Kyl took it from her hand. Had they made love just last night? It seemed such a long time ago.

  With a deep breath and a soft click of the door, she left.

  Chapter Ten

  The House of Darkness

  RAYN AWOKE AND took the lift to the lower level. As he dropped from the third floor, he heard a man’s low voice overlaid with a woman’s higher voice, raised even higher in anger. Even without the acute mental extension of his physical hearing, Ryan would have had no problem discerning that the disagreement was over Sage’s decision to help Rayn.