The Commander's Captive: A sci fi romance (Keepers of Xereill Book 2)

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The Commander's Captive: A sci fi romance (Keepers of Xereill Book 2) Page 3

by Alix Nichols


  He chewed at his lip. “Are we sure the corpse we found is Sebi’s?”

  “The blood analysis—” Voqras began.

  “Yes, yes, I know, and I’m duly impressed by your tech and your skills,” Boggond said. “That the sample you collected near the bones is a match to the blood drawn from Sebi in prison is compelling evidence. But it isn’t proof… I wish the body hadn’t been so badly burned!”

  “According to the hive mind,” Voqras said, “the chance that Sebi got away after losing so much blood, and that the body we found wasn’t his is inferior to one percent.”

  Boggond sighed. “I suppose I just hate not being able to stare into his dead eyes.”

  “What about the pretty little thing in the commander’s possession?” Ultek said suddenly. “What if Nyssa Sebi knows more than we think?”

  Jancel clenched his fists.

  Ultek’s eyes lighting up, he turned to Boggond. “If His Grace lets me question her, who knows, maybe I’ll obtain a precious clue.”

  “What clue?” Jancel hooked his thumbs into his belt.

  “I don’t know—but I’d love to find out.”

  “Nyssa Sebi spent the last year completely isolated from the world in my palace,” Boggond said. “She knows nothing.”

  Ultek rubbed his nose.

  “Besides, she belongs to Commander Heidd now,” Boggond added. “So, if you wish to borrow her for a bit of questioning you should ask the commander for permission, not me.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” Ultek gave Jancel a revolting smile. “Would you let me question your beautiful captive, Commander?”

  “She’s clueless as Lord Boggond just pointed out. And I prefer her in one piece.”

  Ultek flashed his yellow teeth. “I promise I’ll return her in one piece.”

  “The answer is still no,” Jancel said.

  Boggond raised his hand. “That’s settled then. Leave me now.”

  “Your Grace, can we quickly discuss how to deal with the Iltaqa Gazette and its editor Achlins Ghaw?” Voqras asked.

  Ultek waved dismissively. “I’ll deal with him.”

  Frustration flashed in Voqras’s eyes. “This matter needs to be handled intelligently. We can’t just stage another accident, Chief Ultek. There’ve been too many.”

  Boggond shut his eyes for a moment, thinking. He looked tired, wasted almost.

  I hope you’re ill, Jancel caught himself praying. I hope to Aheya you wither and die.

  Boggond opened his eyes. “Chief Ultek. Commander. Good day.”

  Ultek’s gaze darted from the governor to the cyborg. “If you’re going to discuss with Voqras how to handle Ghaw, Your Grace, shouldn’t I be involved?”

  “You have enough on your plate as it is.” Boggond folded his arms over his chest, his meaning unmistakable.

  Jancel saluted and spun on his heel, eager to get away from his “buddies,” as Nyssa had called them, as quickly as possible.

  Unfortunately, Ultek caught up with him in the hallway. “How are you enjoying her, Commander?”

  “I was away for three weeks, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “Are you saying you haven’t fucked her yet?” Ultek narrowed his eyes. “I know you were away at the border, but seeing how you’d insisted on having her, I thought you’d have a taste before you left.”

  Jancel didn’t respond.

  “She’s no virgin, I’m sure.” Ultek’s expression was pensive as he picked tiny morsels of food out of his mustache. “None of those high-borns ever are. But the bright side is she’d know a dirty trick or two. Or ten. Damn! I wish I’d sampled her before His Grace handed her over to you.”

  “Don’t you have a basement full of women for sampling?” Jancel bit out.

  Those poor souls! Since Jancel found out about them a month back, he’d spent hours trying to figure out how to get them out.

  “I do, I do. It’s just…” Ultek let out a sigh. “With that minx Etana up and dying on me, and Nysa in your basement, I’ve now let two babes who should’ve been easy prey slip through my fingers.”

  Jancel rushed down the steps toward the exit.

  “I have this fantasy,” Ultek panted behind him, talking to his back. “I picture the Sebi siblings chained to the wall next to each other.”

  Jancel sped up.

  Ultek did the same. “A bunch of inmates banging the sister in every way they can think of… The brother thrashing and roaring in utter helplessness… Me, masterminding the show…”

  Jancel pushed the door open.

  “Now that the brother is dead, do you mind if I cast you in his role, Commander?” Ultek cried after him.

  Jancel rushed to his vehicle.

  Ultek laughed his ear-grating laugh. “I just like to keep my fantasies realistic, that’s all!”

  4

  We have found two eyewitnesses of two different kidnappings. Both told us the same thing. A motorized vehicle pulls up, two masked men jump out, grab the girl, press something against her mouth, and shove her into the vehicle.

  Considering how few people in Eia own such engines—legally or otherwise—the number of potential suspects suddenly shrinks from thousands to a score or two. We hope the police will put this information to a good use and finally make headway in the “girl snatcher” case.

  But in any event, we will pursue our own investigation.

  Achlins Ghaw, Iltaqa Gazette

  Closing he paper, Nyssa stared at the flowerbed in front of her.

  Two weeks had passed since the news of Areg’s death.

  To her shame, she’d given in to thirst and hunger shortly after Heidd’s return from the Frontier Zone. The siren’s call of life had pulled her away from the brink.

  No matter how often she reminded herself of her misery, her loneliness and her bleak future, she couldn’t quash her will to live.

  Hope is the devil.

  It had anchored itself in her soul and wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard Nyssa tried to dislodge it.

  Stupid survival instinct!

  Every Ra-human—every sentient being—was born with it. Some people would do anything, go to impossible lengths to survive. Others, like her brother or the Iltaqa Gazette’s dauntless editor, found the strength to show it the fist, so they could do what was right.

  Clearly, Nyssa wasn’t one of those people.

  Neither was her jailor.

  Heidd had done nothing to save Areg. He’d sided with criminals and he’d played a role in Boggond’s ignominious scheme to get Areg to confess. There was no doubt what kind of man Heidd had become. And yet… something didn’t quite add up.

  For one, he hadn’t touched Nyssa, even if she was completely at his mercy now.

  With Areg gone, she’d lost her value as a bargaining chip. He could force himself on her and then kill her. Or he could pass her on to the revolting Chief Ultek, who’d rape and kill her. There’d be no punishment, not even an investigation, since she’d already “died” last year.

  Alternatively, Heidd could keep her in his residence, completely segregated from everyone, not concerning himself with her physical well-being or mental health. That’s what Boggond had done to her for an entire year. Considering the governor’s asexual, effeminate appearance and manners, his lack of interest in ravishing her had never struck her as odd.

  But Heidd was a different story.

  Every sensor, every female hormone in her body, every bit of experience she’d had with men told her the commander was the opposite of asexual. He didn’t seem to find her unappealing, either.

  Finally, he wasn’t involved with another woman, as far as Nyssa could tell. Yet her virile and single captor showed a phenomenal restraint in her regard. Was it possible that the promise he’d made to Areg actually meant something to him?

  Whatever the reason, Heidd was extra kind to her these days, extra respectful and… extra withdrawn. He barely spoke to her beyond polite good-mornings and good-nights. Nor did his mother, for that matter.
The old hag was too busy in the mornings, managing the house and cooking her potions. In the afternoon, she often volunteered at the nearest Healers’ hospital. And late in the evenings, she went out again. She’d done that every night for the last two weeks.

  Where in hell was she going to? A witchcraft conference? A poison-making workshop?

  Nyssa rolled her eyes at those ridiculous ideas.

  But, seriously, where?

  Seeing as Nyssa refused to take her meals with the Heidds, she couldn’t casually ask the question over dinner. She ate in her room or with the servants. Despite what Heidd called her, she was not a guest in his house, and it would do her no good to pretend otherwise.

  Sometimes, she caught him grimacing in pain when his headaches worsened, typically late in the day, just like Father’s. But he never asked her to give him a massage again.

  A pretty butterfly flapped its wings past her and headed to the rondrons in the middle of the flowerbed, pulling her out of her thoughts.

  Heidd’s manservant, Memeen, emerged from the house with a big pile of papers. A maid darted out with a pitcher and a glass. They set their loads on the table under the old apple tree and went back inside.

  Ah. Heidd was home early, and he was going to work in the garden before dinner.

  That was what he’d done last week when he walked in on Nyssa in the garden bathhouse. Knowing he was at work, and Wadinnie was nearby to shoo away anyone who got too close, she had left the tinted window open to let in fresh air and the soothing sounds of nature.

  He’d come home early and headed to the garden.

  Wadinnie had frozen, not daring to drive him away from the bathhouse immediately.

  Heidd saw Nyssa’s bare back.

  When Wadinnie cried out, “You can’t be here, sir! Please, go away,” Nyssa glanced over her shoulder.

  Their eyes met.

  The whole thing lasted just a brief moment until he spun around and strode away.

  It was a moment that haunted her ever since.

  She peeked at Wadinnie, who’d fallen asleep under a tree, snoring softly, her open book on the grass next to her.

  Now.

  Without admitting to herself what she was up to, Nyssa darted into the mansion and ran upstairs to her room. She grabbed a towel and a fresh set of clothes and ran back to the garden, making a beeline for the bathhouse. Inside, she stripped down to her panties and turned the water on.

  And then she opened the window.

  A few minutes later, Heidd’s tall, broad-shouldered figure appeared outside, his gaze boring into her, blistering hot.

  Nyssa didn’t flinch.

  Slowly, she reached for the window, intending to shut it. Then, for reasons beyond her comprehension, she dropped her arm along her side and faced Heidd fully, pushing her breasts out and her head up.

  Surprise flashed in his black eyes, only to be replaced by a look so full of raw want, and of promise, that desire stirred in her loins. She stared back at him—his flushed face, his taut body, the bulge in his trousers—and pushed down her panties.

  Her gaze still locked with his, she let her underwear fall to her ankles and stepped out of it. Showing herself to a handsome, desirable man was tantalizing. Nyssa found herself basking in Jancel’s awed gaze—and remembering how it felt to be a woman. It felt good.

  But with arousal came remorse. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way, wasn’t supposed to match his hunger with her own. The point of the whole impromptu scheme had been to tease him, to let the monster have a good look at what he craved. At what he’d never have.

  Her own arousal was completely uncalled for.

  It doesn’t mean anything, Nyssa told herself. Her getting turned on was just a by-product of revealing her body to a male gaze. She’d lived like a vestal ever since Boggond had locked her away over a year ago. She’d missed sex.

  Her body’s response wasn’t personal.

  It had nothing to do with Heidd. It couldn’t, because lusting after him would be so wrong on so many levels. It wasn’t a relapse into her old crush, either, when she used to pretend that every man she lay with was him—

  “Sir Heidd, please, oh dear!” Wadinnie’s panicked, sleep-hoarse voice reached Nyssa’s ears before she spotted the maid. “You can’t! Will you please?”

  She wrung her wrists, shooting pleading glances at Heidd and apologetic ones at Nyssa.

  Poor thing.

  Ashamed of herself, Nyssa closed the window.

  When she walked out of the bathhouse fully clothed with her wet curls combed back, he sat at the garden desk, engrossed in the files he was reading. She was sure he’d heard her walk by but he didn’t look up.

  Was this incident going to change things between them? she wondered. Would he treat her differently now? Would he expect more after the preview she’d given him? Would he expect to share her bed?

  She shuddered at the thought, realizing to her utter mortification that her quiver held both fear and excitement. More excitement than fear.

  Goddess, she was messed up!

  Later that day, she was wolfing down the dinner Wadinnie had brought to her room, when someone knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “Jancel.”

  That was fast. Well, he was in for a cold shower. “Go away.”

  “Nyssa, it’s important. You have to open that door.”

  He didn’t sound playful or husky. In fact, he did sound like whatever he’d come to say was important. And not in a good way.

  She wiped her mouth and hands with a napkin and let him in.

  “Chief Ultek is here,” he said, entering the room. “Along with Lord Boggond’s new head of security, a hive cyborg named Sutor Voqras. They want to talk to you.”

  She inhaled a sharp breath.

  He grabbed her hands. “Nyssa, all they’ll do is ask a few questions. I’ll be there. I won’t let them hurt you.”

  “Just like you didn’t let them hurt Areg?” She pulled her hands from his grip. “I’m not afraid. Take me to them.”

  His mouth thinning, he nodded and headed downstairs. She followed him.

  Before pushing the door to the drawing room open, he yanked her aside. “Don’t try anything silly, like jumping at Ultek and trying to claw his eyes out.”

  That was exactly what she planned to do. Nyssa looked away.

  “I knew it!” He encased her face between his hands and forced her to look at him. “Nyssa, please, don’t provoke them, especially Ultek.”

  “Or else?” she hissed.

  His whisper was urgent, pleading. “For Aheya’s sake, promise me you won’t.”

  She spread her arms. “No can do.”

  “If you behave in there, I will… I will…” His eyes moved rapidly. “I’ll find out where Areg is buried. I’ll take you to him.”

  She surveyed his face. “You better deliver on that promise.”

  “I will.” He exhaled in relief and opened the door.

  The big man, who had to be Voqras, touched his brow and bowed to Nyssa.

  Ultek took a step forward. “Lady Sebi, we meet again! You’re more beautiful than I remember.”

  She bit back a quip.

  Voqras pointed to a chair. “Please, sit down. This won’t last long. We’ll just ask you a few questions, and then we’ll be gone.”

  The four of them took their seats with Heidd next to her and the two other men across the table.

  Pulling a small vial out of his pocket, Voqras held it out for Nyssa. “I need you to drink this before we begin.”

  “What is it?” Heidd asked.

  Voqras smiled. “A very useful Baylian invention, courtesy of Governor Horbell.” He turned to Nyssa. “It’s a truth serum.”

  She glanced at Heidd, but his expression was impenetrable.

  “It has no side effects,” Voqras said, “and it will be out of your system by tomorrow.”

  “Drink it,” Heidd said.

  Oh, what the hell. She
grabbed the vial from Voqras’s hand and downed its contents.

  “Excellent.” The cyborg’s teeth glinted in a brief smile. “It works immediately, so we can delve right in.”

  “What happened to your brother?” Ultek asked.

  She was going to roll her eyes and say something along the lines of, Aren’t you the best placed to know, moron? Except, she couldn’t. She felt compelled to give him the most earnest and exhaustive answer she was capable of.

  Her eyes tearing up, she told him everything she’d learned from the papers, in every painful detail. She whimpered. She raged. She tried to punch Ultek in the face, but Heidd caught her fist and diverted the blow.

  “Had Commander Heidd tried to help Areg when he was on the run?” Ultek asked.

  Heidd glowered at him. “What?”

  “Just doing my job, Commander,” he said with a shrug before turning back to Nyssa. “Had he?”

  She gave him a spiteful look. “You aren’t just a thoroughly corrupt lecher, you’re also dense, aren’t you? Heidd is on your side. Duh! He cut a deal, same as Judge Mahabmet, so he could keep his position. The judge was Father’s closest friend, you know? I hate him for that. So disappointing. But I hate Heidd more.”

  “Why?” Voqras asked.

  “Because I used to admire him… I was in love with him before the war.”

  “Ooh, interesting.” Ultek dragged his chair closer. “Did you two date? Did you have an affair?”

  Nyssa shook her head. “The few times our paths crossed through Areg, he showed no interest in me. It broke my heart.”

  Ultek pulled a face. “Aw.”

  “If only I’d known back then what kind of man he was!” Nyssa took her head in her hands. “But I was too silly, too shallow, and self-centered. I didn’t appreciate—”

  “Your brother had many sympathizers in Eia,” Voqras interrupted her, leaning forward. “Who are they? Can you give us names?”

  “I have no idea who they are.”

  “Not even an inkling?”

  Nysa’s eyes hooding, she released an impatient sigh. “Are you dumb? That degenerate Boggond locked me up before Areg resigned from the army and went into politics. I don’t know anything about the last year of my brother’s life.”

 

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