by Jess Granger
“I’m pretending to be from Earth because I am from Earth,” he said. “No one knows my real identity, and I prefer to keep it that way. The Grand Sister has no idea we are out of the shadows. I want her to think we are rotting down in the ground cities for as long as possible.”
“We?” Cyani could barely push the word out of her constricting throat.
“Mom, Dad, and I escaped Azra and fled to Earth two years after you were taken. We thought you were dead. We were certain they killed you. It wasn’t until the Union hired me as a linguist that I learned you were still alive.”
One thing at a time, she could only process one thing at a time. Her mother and father were alive, too, and safe. Her whole family was safe. Suddenly she felt like the last dozen years struggling to become one of the Elite meant nothing. She had been fighting to find a way to save her brother, and the whole time he had been safe.
“So you’re a linguist for the Union, then?” Soren asked.
“I offered my services as a cultural liaison when I caught wind that Cyani had survived so I’d have an excuse to come here, but I’ve discovered some very disturbing information. The Union is far too interested in where Byra is, and not interested enough in making sure you reach home,” Cyn confided. “The ongoing innuendo I’ve had to suffer through is that I should glean as much information from you as I can before you die and call it a day. Your people are priceless in the shadow trade, and the Union considers you primitive. That’s a bad combination. Corruption can run deep, even in societies with noble intentions.”
“That’s comforting,” Soren huffed.
“How do you know all this?” Cyani asked.
He chuckled. “C’mon, sis, you know me. Let’s just say I’m involved in some crap I’d rather not speak about, and I’ve come across some information through my—how should I put this?—shadier business partners that directly concerns you.” Cyn tipped his cup to Soren, but Soren didn’t say a thing. The only sound in the ship was the sickening crunch of Vicca’s unfortunate snack.
“What are you involved in?” Cyani crossed her arms.
Cyn scowled at her. “I trade valuable information, that’s all. The point is, I intercepted a transmission from one of the nastier shadow market dealers. The guy is pure scum, but he is very rich scum. He’s expecting something worth over seven hundred and fifty thousand bars of conductive trillide to come into his stock within the next twenty hours, from this base. If you sold everything on this base and all the people in it, it wouldn’t be worth that much, and only small transports are due into the base tonight. There is only one thing on this base worth that much money.”
“Me,” Soren supplied.
Cyani’s heart raced as she turned to look at Soren. “Who’s behind this?”
“Probably a Med officer. I know someone purchased a karnul extract on this base, and a medic would be able to hide it and handle it.” Cyn swallowed the contents of his cup, and winced.
“What is karnul?” Soren asked.
“A poison. Sneaky stuff,” Cyani explained. “It is very difficult to detect, so it’s a favorite of assassins.”
“If you also have the antidote, it’s handy for faking someone’s death, especially someone whose race has a reputation for dying suddenly anyway.” Cyn tossed his cup in a sanitizer. “I have to go pull a few more favors to get the flight permissions to leave. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and we’ll talk in macrospace.”
“Where are we going?” Cyani asked.
“Where do you want to go?” Cyn cocked his head as he looked at her. Her brother was fond of word games. She had a feeling this was a test.
Damn him. Cyani felt the endless weight of the universe closing in on her like a heavy dark net she couldn’t escape. Soren’s eyes burned as she looked at him, then her brother. The Grand Sister knew she was alive and expected her to return immediately. If she didn’t return, the Grand Sister would know she’d openly defied her.
She couldn’t risk the Grand Sister ordering a bloodhunt on her family. If they were on Earth, it wouldn’t take much to track them down. The Earthlen were practically drunk on sharing information. The only reason they hadn’t been found already is because no one was looking. Now that she knew her family was safe, the thought of an Elite bloodhunter capturing one of them sickened her. She couldn’t stand it.
The Grand Sister would send Yara. The Elite warrior was smart and relentless. Yara took great pride in her bloodline. She was a true daughter of Yarini the Just. The rule of law was black-and-white for the exceptionally talented but untested warrior. It didn’t matter what disguise Cyn wore, she’d find him. She’d find him, and if the Grand Sister ordered it, she’d kill him. Yara never questioned her orders. Cyani couldn’t contain her rising panic. Her family had to stay safe. She had to protect them. It was all she had thought about for over a decade. She had no choice.
“I have to return to Azra.”
Soren dropped his dark gaze to the floor. She couldn’t read Cyn as he turned away from her and entered the cargo hold.
“You don’t have to return,” Soren said as soon as they were alone. “Your brother could help us escape.”
“I can’t escape now,” Cyani admitted. “Soren, if I tried to run now, the Grand Sister would send a bloodhunter after us, after my family. It was one thing on Makko when no one knew I was alive, but now that I know Cyn is safe, he has a life to lose, too, and I can’t be responsible for that. You haven’t bonded to me.” A chill ran down her neck. “Have you?”
He didn’t answer.
“Soren, did you bond with me last night?” she asked again.
He took a step forward and reached out for her, but she backed away. “Tell me the truth.”
“No,” he said as he retreated back into the opening to the cockpit.
She didn’t know what she would do if he had bonded with her. She couldn’t pretend that there were no consequences anymore.
She sighed. She had to take him for his word, and no matter what, from this point on out, she had to resist him.
How could she resist him when her body knew what he could do to her?
“Then you’ll be safe, and you can find a mate to heal you once we get you home.” She tried to hold back the bitterness that edged into her voice. A flash of what he had looked like stretched out beneath her with the firelight playing in his hair and over his golden skin taunted her from her memory. They had shared something holy. No other woman could give him that.
She had to stop. Her thoughts would only hurt them both. “I promise you, even if I can’t go with you, Cyn will help you. I’m not going to let you die.” It would rip her heart out, but she would not let him die. She felt torn between saving him and protecting her family.
Soren lightly touched her face, drawing her toward him. She couldn’t help herself. She leaned forward as he whispered near her temple. “Is this really what you want, Cyani? A life without being touched, a life without passion or love?”
He brushed his lips over hers, so soft, so full of promise. Her body hummed with tension as she felt herself come alive with feeling. In her mind she could see the colors swirling together. She needed him so badly.
“No,” she whispered against his lips. “It’s not what I want, but I have no choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” Soren murmured, then kissed her.
16
THE GLOWING, FLYING, MECHANICAL CREATURE LET OUT A PIP, THEN A DRAWN out whistle that sounded remarkably like “woo-hoo.”
Soren cursed as they broke the kiss. Cyani pulled away from him.
“Soren,” she murmured. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.” She paced between the beds like a trapped animal.
She had to. His life depended on it. He wasn’t satisfied with reaching his home so he could die anymore. He wanted her. He wanted a long, peaceful life with her by his side, and in his bed. He had to convince her to take the risk. They could find a place to hide and live in peace. The universe was large enough
to conceal them.
He pressed a hand to the center of her chest, stopping her restless motion. His thumb feathered over her collar. The beads of the necklace he had given her pressed into her flesh from their hiding place beneath her uniform. She knew what the necklace meant to them both, and she hadn’t taken it off. She wanted this bond, and he knew it.
“Why are you still wearing this?”
She touched her hand to his and slowly pulled it away.
“Defy her,” Soren said, his anger and frustration putting an edge to his voice. “She has you trapped, she has you chained, and for what? You’re stronger than she is, Cyani. You fear her assassins, but you have much more talent than they do. I know you do. Her assassins have been trying to kill you your whole life, remember? They haven’t succeeded, and you’ve been right under their noses.”
Cyani stepped away from him, but didn’t say anything. She seemed deep in thought. She retreated into the cockpit. Bug followed her and hovered near her shoulder.
She sat down in the copilot’s seat and ran her finger along the edge of a slightly worn control screen.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she admitted without looking at him.
Her brother opened the door to the cargo hold and entered the living quarters. Bug zipped over, did a quick loop, and tapped the top of his head to greet him. Cyn caught the edge of the glowing disc and spun it with a quick flick. It let out a high-pitched “Weeeee” as it spun around the room. Cyn’s wry smile betrayed his amusement as he crossed the room and walked into the cockpit.
“I’ve got clearance for a macrospace leap to Azra. We’ll be there in a gnat’s nut. Whoever’s after Soren is either still asleep, or not on the base, because so far, no one’s trying to stop us.” He tapped commands into one of the overhead panels, then jabbed a lever with the heel of his palm. “Let’s not press our luck.” Cyn threw himself in the pilot’s seat.
“So, is that our destination, sis?” He leaned back in the pilot’s seat and crossed his arms, then kicked his heels up onto the edge of Cyani’s chair, as if her choice didn’t matter to him, but the steely gaze he leveled on her said far more than her brother wanted to reveal. Soren was far too adept at reading expressions for him to hide his intentions. He was testing her, and so far, she was failing. What was driving him? Her brother seemed to change faces, even personalities, as quickly as Soren’s eyes changed color. He was a man of deception, and Soren wasn’t entirely sure he could trust him or his motives.
Soren turned his attention to Cyani as anger and frustration tore at his gut. She taunted him with her indecision. It gave him hope. He watched carefully as she lifted a hand to her neck and traced the edge of his necklace beneath her uniform. “I have to return to Azra,” she said, but her voice told a different story.
Cyn cast a dark glance back toward him. “Fine. Better have a seat, Soren.”
Soren eased onto one of the bunks, leaning his back up against the wall where he could still see into the cockpit. Cyani’s brother was a mystery to him, but perhaps he had an ally.
The ship lifted into the air and pushed forward through the docking shield into the open expanse of empty space. The glowing orb of Makko fell away into the black abyss. He nodded a good-bye to Lakal, and in his heart he wished his friend’s spirit peace and happiness in his afterlife.
The ship surged forward, and with a lurch, settled into the peaceful stillness of macrospace.
The last time he and Cyani had made the leap, he wasn’t sure if they’d live or die. The same sense of dread fell over him. He didn’t know what his fate would be as soon as the ship dropped out of macrospace.
Cyani sat in the copilot seat, staring at the blank screen. She looked as lost as he felt.
He pulled Vicca up into his lap and closed his eyes. His mind was filled with Cyani. He remembered the first time he saw her face after an endless stretch of nothing but darkness. It was beautiful then; she was ethereal now. He’d never forget the way the light played on her naked skin as she straddled him. She was the only woman he’d loved, the only woman he would ever love. He tried to convince himself that it was enough, that it was more than he thought he would ever have in his life through his long years of torture, but it wasn’t enough.
How could he finally break through to her?
She glanced back at him, a stolen look in the dim silence. She was reaching for him, too. He had to convince her to hold on, in spite of the consequences.
“We’re about to drop out of macrospace,” Cyn announced. His little machine whirred around the cockpit then landed on the worn patchwork pillow tied to the edge of one of the cases bolted to the wall. Six tiny metal claws emerged from the underside of the disc and hugged the pillow tight.
The ship dropped, and the screen in the cockpit came to life. An enormous turquoise planet loomed before them. Soren watched in fascination as they tore through the fiery atmosphere and flew over a churning ocean. On the horizon, a land mass arose. High dark cliffs dropped straight down into frothing waves. At the top of the cliffs, a mass of tangled jungle clung to the rock.
Soren could see other islands in the distance. The planet was littered with them, jutting up out of the violent sea. The ship rose to nearly the top of the tree line, flushing thousands of birds from their perches, and landed on one of six white platforms floating near the canopy of trees.
Cyani didn’t move as she stared at the swaying leaves, but her face paled. Cyn rose first and pulled the sleeves of his shadowsuit down then adjusted his glove to carefully hide his tattoo. What lengths would the man go through to hide who he really was?
With a quick bark, Vicca leapt off Soren’s lap. She whined and put her paws on his knee. He stroked her head. The fox blinked up at him, then snuck over to Cyani with her tail dragging on the ground. Without a word Cyani led the way into the hold and descended the ladder. Soren followed her, tempted to reach out and pull her back into the ship, but Cyn was at his back, waiting to descend onto the platform.
Soren had to shield his eyes from the light glaring off the pristine platform. A small open ship hovered at the far end.
Two warriors stood with emotionless faces at the transport. Their pure white clothing clung to their bodies while the sun glinted off the knives strapped to their bare forearms.
Had Cyani ever been so hard? So cold?
She tried to form her face into an emotionless mask, but she couldn’t hide the sadness in her eyes. He would always be able to read her.
“Stay safe,” she said to him. Her voice sounded rough. She paused as if she wanted to say something else, but she dropped her head and joined the other two warriors. Vicca trotted obediently at her heel but looked back over her shoulder at him, holding her ears low against her head.
Soren felt his heart rip as if she were pulling part of it with her. He tried to steel himself, but couldn’t. She was killing him.
She stepped into the ship, squared her shoulders, and held her head high. She became the warrior, strong, noble. Her eyes—only her eyes—turned back to him as the ship took off into the trees.
He felt Cyn’s reassuring hand on his shoulder, a solid weight of a common bond.
“Don’t worry. We haven’t lost her yet.” Cyn gave his shoulder a quick thump then strode back to the hatch. “Come on, we don’t have much time. I could use your help.”
Soren watched the trees for a moment, unwilling to let go of the image of Cyani standing on the platform. When the heat radiating off the platform became too much, he reluctantly followed Cyn into the ship. The man sat in the pilot’s seat, quickly stabbing at the various panels and watching a line of gibberish flash across the main screen too quickly for any normal person to possibly read.
“They’re getting tricky,” he mumbled to himself. He typed almost as quickly as the figures scrolling across the display. “Not tricky enough. Got ’em.”
The screen went black, and Cyn smiled. He rose from his chair and stood near one of the beds. He immediately stripped
and donned a pair of black pants then threw a loose black shirt with slit sleeves over his head.
“How did you knock out the people in Med?” He pulled a pile of clothing out of a storage locker and tossed it on the bed followed by two dagger harnesses. “Are you going to change?” he asked. Soren looked at him like the man had just sprouted a third arm.
“Why do you care what I did to the people in Med?” he asked, his words tinged with caution. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he took one of the knives. “What’s going on?”
“Just curious,” Cyn responded. “Your talent for making people keel over might come in handy where we’re heading.” He buckled leather cuffs over his forearms, carefully hiding his Azralen coloring and his tattoos.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Don’t you trust me?” He flashed his sardonic smile as he tied a sash over his head. The back draped down, giving him the impression of long dark hair. He looked like a criminal.
“If you think you’re going to sell me, I’ll show you exactly what I did to the people in Med, only you won’t wake up,” Soren challenged.
Cyn turned to him as if Soren had just gut punched him. The irreverent smile disappeared like a fleeting illusion. His face turned hard with sudden anger. In a moment he looked like he had aged about ten years. He pulled the collar of his shirt aside, revealing a slashing scar over his chest. “I received this from a flesh trader when I stole his meat. I free people. I don’t sell them.”
Soren grabbed him by the shirt, bunching the material in his fists as he thrust his damaged wrists up so Cyn could see them. “These scars say one thing. I’m worth seven hundred fifty thousand of your bars of rat shit. And until you tell me exactly what’s going on, I have no reason to trust you. For all I know you are the one who wanted to sell me to your seedy contact and that is why you were in such a rush to get off the base and come here.”
He shoved Cyn back and widened his stance. He could feel his eyes flashing, and he didn’t care.