by JC Cassels
With the now-docile man braced against the truss, Blade glowered at her. “Are you trying to get me killed?”
“Oh please… I’ve seen you take down guys like this for fun.” She tilted her head to one side. “You’re the guy who was trained in fifty ways to kill people with a toothpick. I’ve never known you to be squeamish before.”
“It’s called maturity,” he said. “That, and a respect for life.”
She peered past him at the tough, sagging against the bulkhead. “When did you suddenly gain a respect for life?”
He sighed. His shoulders sagged. “When I crossed the line.”
“What line?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Do we have to have this conversation here?”
“No. You’re right,” she said. “Is he drooling?”
Blade glanced at the man who indeed had spittle dribbling down his chin. “He’ll be fine.”
“What did you do to him?”
He shrugged. “A little trick I picked up on Kah Lahtrec.”
Her dubious look spoke volumes.
“A year with Tahar,” he reminded her. “Priest stuff.”
Carefully, he released the man’s prenaha. The tough’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slid down the bulkhead. Blade withdrew his hand as the man collapsed into a heap.
“Is he dead?”
Blade shook his head. “Unconscious. He’ll have a headache when he wakes in a few hours, but he won’t remember us at all.”
He thumbed the release in the stinger’s grip and the power cell fell onto the decking with a hollow thunk. Spotting a waste disposal chute, Blade tossed the stinger in and picked up the shopping bags once more.
He held out his hand to her.
She hesitated only a few seconds before stepping over the unconscious man.
“You know, the whole priest thing is scarier than the Predator.”
“Remember that the next time I tell you to let me handle something,” he growled.
She sidled closer to him, slipping her hand in his. “Oh, you know I can’t do that.”
With one last glance over her shoulder, she fell into step with him as he led her down the corridor.
Dammit!
Just when he thought he had put that life behind him…
She hugged his arm and rested her head against his bicep.
Some of his ire melted away, warmed by the softly curved woman snuggled against his side.
Dammit!
There was never any reason where she was concerned. Whenever she was in danger, no matter how small the threat, he couldn’t help but give in to the savage part of himself.
“Sometimes, you can be the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met,” he sighed.
She tossed her head. “What do you expect? Your communications skills are terrible.”
His lips twitched in amusement.
They rounded the corner to the lift platforms and selected one going down to the luxury suites. He allowed himself to relax a little when the railing closed around them. The platform rocked slightly, then began its descent, humming with the artificial gravity field as it skimmed gracefully along.
“So tell me about this line you crossed,” she said, breaking the silence. “I thought you were on record as not having one.”
She lifted her face to his. There was no condemnation in her expression, only curiosity.
His lips twisted in self-mockery. “It looks like they were wrong.”
Her brown hair stirred by the air currents made by their descent. She reached up with her free hand and pulled a stray lock of hair from her face. It caught briefly in the glistening makeup that darkened her lips. His stare lingered on her mouth, full and pouty, begging for his kiss.
“What happened to you, Dev? What did they do to you?”
Unable to meet the concern in her eyes, he watched the levels drift past.
“I suppose I did it to myself.” He set the bags on the platform and led her to the rail. “I can’t really blame anyone else. The choices I made were my own.”
He risked a glance at her.
Her brow furrowed as she patiently waited for him to continue.
His chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t happen all at once. You justify yourself. You tell yourself you had to compromise. You had to smudge the line. You lie to yourself that you can do this or that and it won’t change you, but it does. You do it often enough, then one day you look up and realize you can’t find the line anymore and you’ve become everything they'd trained you to be – sadistic bastard, ruthless killer.”
He laughed, but there was little humor in it. Releasing her hand, he turned away from her and braced his forearms on the railing. He stared down into the dimly lit transport shaft, paying little attention to the levels as they drifted past. The cool breeze caressed his face. He closed his eyes, shutting out the memories.
“I never set out to be a monster,” he said, his voice soft against the hum of the gravity field. “All I ever wanted was to save lives, not take them. That’s why I joined the Mighty Eighth after Niall was killed. I never wanted to feel that helpless again. That’s why I became a medic. I wanted to be a hero. But the IC saw the villain. They nurtured it. They trained it. I thought I could control it, but…” he broke off shaking his head. “That’s why I left the IC. The nightmares, the screams I kept hearing inside my own head, I couldn’t make them stop. Once I made up my mind that I wanted to live, I thought I could force them into submission. It worked…for a little while. Being with you – you made me want to be a better man. When you looked at me with such love and trust, I believed I could be the kind of hero I wanted to be – for you.”
“And then I threw you out.” With a sigh, she linked her arm through his and leaned against him.
He kissed the top of her head. “What I became wasn’t your responsibility, Bo. I found myself right back where I’d been when I left the IC in the first place. Only this time, I didn’t have Chase or you to keep me grounded. The demon inside me kept growing stronger until one day I snapped. I lost control. I was everything the IC had trained me to be – and then some.”
Steeling himself, he lifted his head and met her stare.
“I did horrible things, Bo. Savage, brutal things. The kinds of things that haunt your nightmares. I was in such a dark place.”
“What finally made you crack?”
“A woman,” he said. “A client. Turned out to be a trap. They chose someone who would remind me of you.” He shook his head. “By the time I realized it was a set-up, it was too late. They put me on a ship and pumped me full of drugs to keep me quiet.”
At her sharp intake of breath, his lips twitched. Bo understood his fears of sedation. With his self-control gone, the monster inside had been free to rampage unchecked.
“When I came down off whatever it was they gave me… The ship looked like a slaughterhouse. I killed them all. The ship was derelict for over a week before my team found me. Sometimes, I still can…smell it.”
Slipping her hand into his, she laced her fingers with his and hugged his arm to her, drawing him back from the brink of his own darkness.
He shook off the memory and managed a distant smile. “I don’t know how you can handle it without going mad,” he said. “Being alone out there in the deep dark. A week and I was ready to kill myself.”
“Blow them out the airlock,” she said. “Much easier to clean up. Much easier to convince yourself it never happened…and I hadn’t been drugged. I don’t even have that excuse.” She smiled up at him. “I can’t judge you, Dev. I’m guilty, too.”
“You said yourself that I’m a scary bastard.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m not afraid of you.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not saying I fully trust you. I’m pretty sure I can take you in a fight, that’s all.”
He laughed, feeling his dark mood lifting under her teasing. “You probably could, at that,” he said. “I wouldn’t bet against you.”
; Unable to resist the impish humor gleaming in her eyes, he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers in a quick, chaste, and wholly unsatisfying kiss. Taking a deep breath, he cruelly squelched the desire to go back for another.
In the low light, her pupils dilated. The heightened color spreading across her face had little to do with the makeup she’d artfully applied back in the dress shop. She cleared her throat and swallowed daintily.
“So, what does stepping over the line have to do with what happened back there?” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “I’m not even sure what you did.”
He smiled and turned his attention to the levels drifting by. It was nice to know she was just as affected by the attraction between them as he was.
“After my breakdown, I needed someplace to put myself back together.”
“So you went to Kah Lahtrec.”
She said it matter-of-factly, as if it were inconceivable he’d have gone anywhere else.
He nodded. “I checked into the temple on Mount Jihat and I studied with Tahar for almost a year.”
Glancing back at her, he met her patient gaze. Her amber eyes held no judgment as she waited for him to tell his story his own way.
“It took a season to learn to let go of the guilt,” he said, softly.
“And then?”
Such a question.
How could he possibly explain a year’s worth of soul-searching, self-loathing, self-destruction, and honest introspection until he’d finally learned to let go of his anger and bitterness?
He studied their hands, clasped together, fingers entwined, as he struggled to find the words to explain what he went through during that year.
“And the rest of the time to find the line again.” He shifted uncomfortably. “The first time, I did it for Chase. Then I did it for you. This time, I had to do it for myself.” He gently squeezed her hand, offering silent assurance that he indeed had found what he’d been looking for.
“I haven’t stepped over it since.” He met her gaze once more, silently willing her to understand – to see him for who he truly was, not a role he’d played. “I am not that man anymore.”
She lifted a dubious eyebrow.
His heart sank.
“You mean to tell me that you haven’t fought anyone, you haven’t killed anyone, since then?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “I find that hard to believe.”
He sighed and squared his shoulders.
“I’ve fought,” he said firmly. Resolve strengthened his tone. “I’ve killed. I’m a soldier, and we’re at war. There’s no getting away from that, even if it is only a shadow war. But no more murder. No more assassination. I look for other ways. If I’m lucky, I find them.” He jerked a chin toward the upper levels. “That guy didn’t have to die.”
She nodded. “But what if he kills the next people he tries to roll? Or someone after that? You could have prevented it.”
He stilled. That was the crux of it. She’d fired right into the very heart of his own weakness. It had been the hardest lesson to learn.
“I don’t have the right to make that call,” he said. “You can’t convict someone based on their potential.” He shook his head. A small smile touched his lips. “Tahar once told me that if all men were judged by what they’re capable of, everyone would be in prison.”
She rolled her eyes.
“That’s your problem, Bo. You focus on what someone might do and not what they’re actually doing.”
“Meaning you?”
“A man’s words may lie, but his actions won’t. You’d be a lot happier if you opened your eyes to what’s right in front of you and worried a little less about what tomorrow is going to bring with it. I hate to think about how much you’ve missed out on for worrying about things you can’t change or control.”
“This from the man who has to control everything?”
“Control is an illusion. It’s a lie we tell ourselves.”
“So you’ve given up trying to control everything?”
He grinned. “It’s a work in progress. I’m learning to roll with things more. Tahar says there are threads that run through the Commonwealth, through the universe, connecting us all. When it’s time, the Maker reaches out and gathers up the threads and weaves them together. If we pay attention, we can see the patterns. If we allow the Maker to use us for his purpose, we can be part of something greater.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I do. I have to. It’s what keeps me striving to be that better man.” He turned to her, leaning on one elbow. “It wasn’t an accident that I was in Akita when you – blew it up.”
She stiffened.
“It wasn’t my design, either,” he said. “When I saw you…I knew that…it was time.”
“Time for what?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” he laughed. “I just knew that when your ship broke grav, I needed to be aboard. No control, no plan, just a leap of faith.”
“And now?”
“I have a little more of a plan.”
“Which you’re not going to share.”
“Not on a lift platform, no.”
“When you agreed to leave my ship, you never had any intention of actually doing it, did you?”
He grinned. “If you want me to leave after I deliver you to Sundance, I will.”
The platform slowed to a stop and settled against a landing. The safety rails parted. His hand tightened on hers as he pushed away from the rail and collected their shopping bags. Together they stepped onto the mezzanine.
He glanced at the signs.
“This way.”
He headed for the corridor with the luxury suite he’d reserved. Once he found the suite, he pulled the plastiform key from his pocket and waved it at the door panel. It whispered open and he pushed her ahead of him into the suite before she had a chance to protest. He touched the light panel beside the door and the massive silver chandelier flared to life as the door shut behind them. Delicately wrought metal arms curved gracefully from a central cluster of glowing crystals. Resembling a spiral galaxy, the glowing, faceted stones nestled within it like so many stars.
He touched the panel again, bathing the lounge and dining area in warm light from recessed glow strips and stylish lighting fixtures scattered about the room.
Without comment, she slowly turned, taking in the elegant, yet cozy décor.
The creamy, gray walls subtly reflected the warm light from the recessed glow strips in the coffered ceiling. The light from the silver table lamps was diffused through raw shimmersilk shades. A plush rug covered the polished, pale gray stone floor. Upholstered furniture in muted shades of purple and gray clustered around tables carved from some pale pink stone, shot with veins of gray, which seemed to glow with a light of its own. On a raised platform, a dining table with seating for six waited only for the arrival of guests. A smoky mirror reflected golden light over the table and chairs, carved from the same stone as the ones in the lounge.
In all, it was one of the nicer suites he’d rented in longer than he could recall.
Blade crossed the foyer to the other door and touched the panel beside it. It slid open with barely a sound and lights slowly rose inside. The rich purple and pink of the lounge gave way to cool blue and silver in the much more restrained décor of the bedroom.
Shades of blue, ranging from the brilliant color of a Lahtrecki sky to the enticing hues of the seas he loved, and every shade in between, were purposefully strewn around the peaceful room in the bedding, the upholstered chair in the corner, and the artwork. The oversized bed was centered on a large, silver tufted panel that dominated the wall.
He set the shopping bags on the highly polished floor beside the door to the lav.
“We’ll get you settled in and I’ve got to go see Dilly,” he said.
She stopped abruptly.
“If you’re going to see Dilly, I’d better go with you,” she said.
He sighed and lifted his face to the ceiling. “
You need to get out of sight.”
“After what you did? You’d be an idiot to go anywhere near Dilly without backup.”
He canted his head. “How do you know about that?”
She huffed. “Everybody knows,” she said. “The troubadours on Gayoso 3 made it the theme of their epic song competition that year.”
“Really?” He folded his arms across his chest. “How did I miss that?”
“I’m serious, Blade.”
“I don’t doubt you are,” he said absently. He glanced at the bed. “But I have something more important in mind for you.”
Color flooded her cheeks as she realized where his attention had drifted.
“You don’t honestly expect me to fall for that, do you?”
“What?”
“I’m not going to let you seduce me and then walk out of here while I’m in some post-coital coma.”
“You wound me,” he said.
She bit her lip and studied him with the same wariness of a wild animal sizing up a hunter. “You said you were bringing me here to make love to me.”
His heart twisted in his chest. “I did, didn’t I? But I’ve had some time to reconsider that.”
“What?”
“You look disappointed,” he said.
Bo shook her head and looked away. “I’m not playing your games.”
“No game,” he said. He crossed the space between them and lightly brushed his knuckles against her cheek.
He waited patiently for her to meet his stare.
“Make no mistake,” he said softly. “I want you. I want to push you down on that bed and make love to you until you scream for mercy.”
“I detect a but.”
“But then I realized that there are still a lot of things standing between us, Bo.”
“Such as?”
“Five years.”
Her brow gathered.
“Five years and a lot of deception,” he said, and went on without missing a beat. “I can’t in all good conscience take you to bed again until we resolve some issues.”