Born of Legend

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Born of Legend Page 22

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  He lowered his hand and approached her. "Can I help you, High Mother?"

  Shifting the basket in her hands, she smiled warmly. "A xetetic would call this a coincidence."

  He snorted at the Demurrist term for a nonbeliever, or anyone not of their faith. "And what do you call it?"

  "I'm more interested in what you think the odds are that you'd be working on my ship with such caring devotion?"

  Jullien froze. "You own the Stormbringer?"

  She ran her hand over the filigree design that wrapped around the underpanels. "I do and here I've been praying and praying for someone to get her back into service for me. Then lo and behold, I make my weekly check to see if my prayers are answered, and I find that someone has, indeed, finally accepted my repair request. I come to bring my generous benefactor a care basket, and thank them for their kindness, and it turns out to be ... well, you. Again, what are the odds?"

  As much as he'd like to believe in a higher power working magic behind the scenes to do good things for them, the delusion of a benevolent creature who gave a minsid damn about them belonged to small children and morons. His trust in such had died in childhood the day his grandmother had viciously told him she'd murdered his twin brother. "It's a random universe, High Mother. Weird shit happens without rhyme or reason every day."

  "So you say. I choose not to believe it. The gods work their will in their own good time, to benefit us all." She held her basket out toward him. "I still wish for you to have this."

  "Thank you, but I can't accept it. I don't do this work for payment, but rather my own penance." He sifted through the toolbox to find the right wrench for the access panel. "If anyone can understand that, I'm sure it's you."

  "Are your sins that great, m'tana?"

  He didn't comment as he opened the panel to look inside the drive and check the wiring there. At least now he knew what the priestess's given name was. According to the ship's manifest, she was Unira Samari.

  "So what did you do to the old girl, anyway?"

  She moved to stand behind him so that she could peek over his shoulder and watch while he rooted through the guts of her ship. "I primarily make relief runs through League blockades ... which is why I haven't had the money to repair her. There's not a lot of profit in charity, as I'm sure you know. Things got a little hot on my last run and the Garvons took out a big piece of her drive and shield systems. We limped back into port. But she hasn't been the same since. She's been very testy with me over it. I can barely start her engines. Because she's so old, it's hard to find anyone willing to work on her, or anyone who has any knowledge of how to repair her. Many don't even know how to access her core or can read her old code. Every year it gets harder to find parts for her since they stopped manufacturing them decades ago."

  "Why don't you replace her?"

  She cast a weepy look at her ship. "We go way back, she and I. As I'm sure you can appreciate. You don't get rid of your best friend simply because she gets a little age on her, and isn't to most folks' tastes. I like to think that we're both getting better with experience. Not washed up. Besides, no one would value her. They'd simply buy her for the metal and circuits, then crush her for scraps, and I can't bear the thought of seeing something so precious needlessly destroyed because others can't take a minute to see the truth of what's right in front of their eyes."

  Smiling at the inner beauty of the priestess's soul, Jullien linked and reviewed the diagnostic on his handheld. "Well, it doesn't look too bad. I think I can have her back in service for you in a couple of weeks."

  Her entire face lit up. "Really?"

  He nodded. "A little horse-trading with Sheila and some custom work, but it should be manageable." He paused as he studied the schematics. "And if you want, I should be able to boost the auxiliary firepower. It's a little dated as you said ... still, it'll take a higher round than what you've been using for defense. That should keep the Garvons and others off you a bit. I can update the system, do a patch and make it carry more, too. If you're interested?"

  "Really?" Unira repeated, excitedly. "That would be wonderful!"

  "I can also tap the intake, boost your speed and slow the fuel lines, which will save you a lot on your annual running costs. She'll be a little slow on the initial takeoff, but you won't notice it in flight, or when you hit HD. So as long as you're not rabbiting out from a base, you'll be fine. Do you do that a lot?"

  "No. It's usually mid flight when I encounter authorities."

  "Well, I can rig a booster switch should you need more speed on takeoff. That would bypass the fuel savings and settings in an emergency."

  She gaped at him. "You can really do all that?"

  "Sure, it's extremely easy on these older-model ships. It's not that hard on the newer ones. You just have more code to bully and bypass. More coders and mechas you want to hunt down and slap."

  Laughing, she stepped back and held up her gift in a teasing manner. "You'd really do all that for me and take nothing from my basket for yourself?"

  Jullien shook his head. "I'm sure you can find someone far worthier and in greater need ... such as the widows and orphans fund."

  She lowered it to stare up at him. "Very well, then can I ask another question?"

  "Sure."

  "When can I look forward to seeing you at temple again?"

  His stomach tightened at the reminder of the last time he'd seen Ushara and her family. It was what he'd been doing his best to not dwell on or think about.

  Four days. It still hurt and felt like he'd been gutted. But then he should have known better than to let his guard down. To let himself think for one moment that he could have something for himself.

  "What's it like to know your own mother can't stand to look at you, Julie? That she screamed the first time she saw your hideous, hybrid form?" He grimaced as he heard Merrell's hateful words being snarled in his ear with spiteful glee.

  Sighing, he forced himself to face the cold, harsh reality that while he might have entered the world with a twin brother, he was going to remain forever alone in it. "I don't know."

  The high priestess pulled a small wrapped, gilded book from the basket and held it out to him. "Here, m'tana. I insist you take this for yourself, if nothing else. It's a prayer book and cloth. Ushara told me that you were never given exordium on Andaria. It would be my honor to exord and confirm you in our faith. The classes are easy. If you're interested in joining them and converting, my number is in the back of the book. You can scan it into your link and contact me, whenever you're ready, should you ever choose to be."

  Jullien took the book and stared at the bright purple cloth that was embroidered with their symbols of faith and the gold flower charm that dangled from the embroidery. "You'd exord me even though I'm Ixurian?"

  She smiled kindly. "I see no Ixur before me. Only a rare Kadurr. If you're going to invent an alias for yourself, child. Pick one that actually fits your true nature." And with that, she walked off and left him.

  Not sure what to think about her words, Jullien tucked the book into his pocket while he went to order the parts he'd need to begin repairs on her ship.

  As he walked through the main landing bay, three other ships and their raucous crews were in the process of being unloaded and inspected for code and inventory, and logged for possible repairs by other crews. He didn't pay them much attention.

  Not until an unknown object came flying at his head. Reacting on pure instinct, he caught it without hesitation.

  The fact that it was a Caronese war-star and he hadn't cut his hand on it brought out an impressed noise from the reckless lunatics who'd thrown it at him. But it pissed him off to no end. Had he missed the catch or not seen it coming, he would have needed stitches, and it could have killed him or caused serious injury. Only a careless moron with no regard for the life of another would throw that at someone.

  It was something his cousins or grandmother would have done for entertainment, and that definitely didn't help his soured mo

od--which was also why he was so good at catching such things. He'd been struck so many times as a young child that he'd developed heightened peripheral vigilance and assassin reflexes that allowed him to catch or deflect any object that came flying at him without warning.

  Even in pitch blackness.

  Jullien held the war-star in his hand, testing its heft, and debating the sanity of returning it to the sender.

  With interest.

  Don't. Hold your temper.

  But it was a hard, hard thing to do when he was desperate to punch the Caronese bastard who was approaching him with a smug, dismissive smirk. Especially when old memories and flashbacks burned through him and added a need to strike out.

  Damn the consequences.

  "Sorry, slag. It slipped." He yanked it from Jullien's hand.

  Jullien continued to hold himself perfectly still. Ushara will have to answer for any action you take against him. That alone allowed him to stay the course.

  Even though his soul screamed for blood.

  Something definitely not helped when another piece of scum from the bastard's crew stepped up to Jullien and slapped him, then laughed about it as he and his cronies danced off. The pain and metallic taste of blood in his mouth really set his fury into overdrive.

  They had barely vanished before Davel Altaan was in his face, too.

  Jullien ground his teeth. It was the first time a member of Ushara's family had come near him since their grandmother had publicly reamed him at temple. He curled his throbbing lip. "What is this? Tavali Asshole Day?"

  Davel ignored his sarcasm. "Why didn't you hit them?"

  With the pad of his thumb, Jullien wiped at the blood on his lips. "The last time I bitch-slapped one of your brethren who attacked me, I was told the blowback for it went to your sister. Contrary to what you think, I do care about her and I wouldn't hurt her for anything. So if losing my dignity and some blood saves her from a Calibrum, I'll take their shit and do nothing even though it galls the Tophet out of me."

  "Is that the real reason?"

  He gave Davel a droll stare. "You saw what I did to your cousins. You really think that group of human cocupun scares me?"

  "Oh well, in that case. Let's go teach them some manners, shall we?"

  Jullien cocked his brow. "Don't tease me, Davel. It's cruel."

  "I never tease about fighting, drinking, or sex. And don't worry. This blowback is on me, drey ... and so's bail."

  For the first time in days, Jullien smiled as he finally had something to look forward to. "Then lead on mi dryht Tavali." He pulled his glasses off and put them in their protective case that he left in the bay, along with his weapons--no need to tempt himself for a murder charge.

  By the time they reached the bar where the others had gone, Jullien had his gloves on and was ready for payback. "I want the Caronese chiron who started this shit."

  Davel gave him a sinister grin. "And I claim his slap-happy friend."

  *

  "Admiral? You're needed in lockup immediately."

  Ushara scowled at Zellen, who wore a strangely amused expression on his face as he stood in the doorway of her office. "Pardon?"

  "Anders said it was imperative for you to come, in person, ASAP."

  Irritated that the commander of their Hadean Corps would dare summon her like that, she got up and headed for their quarters. She had no idea why the HC would be bothering her. Normally Anders was more than capable of policing the station without any interference from either her or Trajen. That was the entire point of having their division. Normally, HC only bothered her or Trajen whenever a verdict or sentence needed to be rendered for Calibrim--or a trial, or banishment.

  But as she arrived in the HC offices, and saw her brother and Jullien handcuffed together on a prisoner bench like two guilty teens who'd boosted their parents' favorite skimmer for a joyride, she began to suspect why he'd demanded her presence this day. Their clothes were torn and bloodied, and both were sporting the kind of injuries that said they'd been in a violent and prolonged altercation of some sort.

  Please tell me they weren't fighting each other.

  Though, to be honest, had they gone at one another, she'd have expected them to be in far worse shape, given their skills and size. Plus she doubted they would have been able to handcuff them near each other after such a fight.

  Once two Andarion males engaged in violence over a matter, they seldom quit pummeling each other until one of them was carried away on a stretcher. Unless they were blood brothers or held off at blaster point, they never stopped until an ambulance and enforcers were called.

  "What did they do?" she asked the intake officer at the front desk.

  She looked at Ushara and shook her head. "You want the whole grocery list or just the fun highlights?"

  Ushara covered her eyes and sighed as horror filled her. Embarrassed and ticked off, she lowered her hand to her mouth so that she could glare at her brother, then Jullien. "Really? Really? How old are the two of you?"

  "It's not Davel's fault."

  "It's not Dagger's fault."

  They spoke in unison.

  "So now you're bonded. You're what? Fight bros? Browlers?"

  "Could be Bringers," Davel said, which caused Jullien to laugh until he saw the fury in her eyes.

  He sobered instantly.

  Davel leaned against Jullien's shoulder. "Look on the bright side, drey. Your girl can't make you sleep at your mother's tonight. You don't have to go to bed to the wonderful sound of your parents bitching at you over what a disappointment you turned out to be."

  "Zeriti."

  "Ah, don't be. It was so worth it. I just hate they took that ear from us so they could reattach it. I wanted to frame it for my wall."

  "Oh dear God!" Ushara gasped. "You ripped off someone's ear?"

  "I didn't." Davel pointed to Jullien. "He's a vicious bastard in a fight."

  Jullien was unrepentant. "He came at me first. I was unarmed. He's the one who introduced cutlery into it. Besides, it was the lesser evil of what I was tempted to snatch off his body."

  Ushara turned back toward the intake officer. "What do I have to do to get them out of here?"

  "They've been bonded out. But after the damage they did, the HCXO marked them IRIS."

  "IRIS?"

  "I Require Intense Supervision. Anders didn't want to release them without direct supervision so he had me call you to take custody of them."

  Davel let out a tired sigh as another HC unlocked their cuffs. "Yeah, the tattletale puss wanted to make sure Mom knew so she could spank our asses." Rubbing his freed wrists, he looked over at Jullien. "You might like that after dinner. But remember, she is my little sister. So, no gru-gru without pledging. Or else I'm going to have to bleed on you." He stood up and held his hand out to Jullien.

  After helping him to his feet, Davel gave him a brotherly hug. "Later, kiran."

  "Later, mi drey."

  Walking sheepishly to her, Davel kissed Ushara's cheek. "Go easy on him, kisa. He's had a bad day. And you should know I've offered to sponsor him on my crew. We need to get him off the docks before someone kills him. It's open season for anyone out there without a patch, especially someone like Dagger. He's had a couple of really close calls today. If you have any feelings for him at all, don't send him out there again."

  Stunned, she watched her brother leave, then turned back toward Jullien. "What did you do to him?"

  He paused by her side as the IO handed him his things. "Nothing. But he did get bashed in the head pretty hard. That, I tried to prevent."

  She led him from the office, back toward the landing bay so that he could pick up his coat, weapons, and glasses. "So what happened, anyway?"

  He shrugged nonchalantly. "Assholes came in. Davel saw them in all their charming glory. We decided to teach them some manners."

  "There are easier and much cheaper ways to teach manners."

  Jullien snorted. "Not if you're Andarion."

  Ushara p
aused as she realized what Davel had said to her. And what it meant. "Did you tell my brother who you really are?"

  "Your father did."

  While she trusted her brother, she wasn't sure she liked so many people knowing about Jullien's outstanding warrant. Davel wouldn't hurt him, but he wasn't always the most judicious when it came to keeping secrets, either. He ranked right up there with her gaggle of sisters.

  "You know, if Davel sponsors you ... you'll be gone from base most of the time. I'd rarely see you."

  Tucking his hands into his back pockets, Jullien gave her an adorable, boyish sideways glance as they headed out of the bay, toward the living quarters. "Will you miss me?"

  "I think I will." She couldn't tell how he felt about that. He had an irritating ability to hide his emotions.

  "Well, I'm not leaving right away. He won't go until after the baby's born."

  "That's any day now."

  "Yes, but he said he won't leave until after the Day of Division."

  That wasn't that far away. And the thought of Jullien leaving with Davel's crew made her ache deep inside. Much more than it should. It was actually excruciating. "Then I expect to see more of you between then and now."

  "Really?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay." He rubbed his chin. "I'll gain more weight."

  She laughed at his teasing tone. "Jullien!"

  "Oh..." he said, drawing the word out. "You meant come over. Like play at your house...'cause I'm just a juvenile delinquent. Right?"

  She bit back a smile at his light, teasing tone and the playful light in his eyes. "Well, if you insist on behaving like one...."

  He brushed his thumb speculatively over his bottom lip while they walked. Then he gave her the most adorably charming grin she'd ever seen on any male's face, and it made her incredibly warm and tender inside. "Do I still get my spanking later?"

  How she could find him so desirable, she had no idea and yet, she'd never been this attracted to anyone. "Do you want one?"

  "Not really." He paused for a second to consider something. "Unless you're wearing that outfit you had on at temple. Then I could be persuaded to take it like an Androkyn ... and relish it."

  She snorted. "Now you're being sacrilegious."

  "Yeah well, if I'm bound for Tophet, let it be for something good, I say."

 
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