Between Frost and Fury

by Chani Lynn Feener

  Before she could react to that last part—or freak out about it—he was talking again.

  “He likes to wander, break the rules. I’m sure being around me his entire life is partially to blame for forming that habit. No doubt that’s also why he was so curious about you.”

  “You talk to him about me.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  “I just got back from speaking with my father,” he said, and even though she knew it was a diversion tactic, she went along with it.

  “What about?” She’d never met the Rex and, in truth, always hoped she never would. Dealing with Magnus, the Vakar king, had been hard enough, and he was supposedly the more lenient of the two.

  “It seems we both did well with the coordinator today.” It should have been a good thing, but the way he said it showed he was anything but pleased.

  “Your dad found out about that already?”

  “He received a full report before we even made it back to this room,” he said. “Typical. He’s never been one for waiting. For anything.”

  “You didn’t get your patience from him, then.” Trystan had patience in spades. It would even have been an attractive quality if not for … everything else about him.

  “No, I did not.” His uniform was impeccable, as ever, but there was a dull shade to his usually vibrant eyes, and his hair was mussed, as if he’d recently been combing his fingers through it.

  “You seem tired, Trystan.”

  “Do I?” The corner of his mouth turned up, but even that was lackluster in comparison to his usual half grins.

  She was still wearing the dress, and now she tapped the lacy flowers on her shoulder. “How did you know the stellaperier is my favorite flower?”

  He feigned sudden interest in his right sleeve, adjusting it even though it was perfectly straight.

  She took his silence as meaning he wasn’t willing to discuss the topic, so she shelved it. For now.

  “Maybe you should get some rest,” she suggested, and he let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

  “Concerned for my well-being, Delaney?” He looked up and latched on to her gaze. “Or are you merely trying to get rid of me?”

  She forced herself not to react. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I bother?”

  “Hmm.” He stood there a moment longer, like he was either waiting for her to say something more, or he was trying to find the right words to voice a thought of his own. He ended up not doing either, and stepping away instead.

  “Going to bed?” The sky was finally starting to darken outside. A tingle of anticipation ran down her spine.

  “I’m much too busy for that,” he said over his shoulder. Just as he was about to leave, he hesitated, turning back to face her. “You did well today, Delaney.”

  She opened her mouth—to say what, she wasn’t sure—but he wasn’t finished.

  “You’re a very good actress.”

  CHAPTER 9

  When she finally heard from Ruckus, the sky was almost pitch-black and it’d been forever since Trystan had left her for the night.

  “Delaney.” Ruckus’s voice was low, like he was whispering into her head.

  It was somehow more intimate, and she took a second to breathe past the adrenaline and hope, needing to calm herself enough to focus. They had one chance for this to work, and she certainly wasn’t going to be the one to screw it up by being overexcited to see him.

  “You’re here. Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll be with you shortly, but I have to cut communication in order to focus. I know where you are. I’m coming.”

  She felt the connection sever before she could respond, and her shoulders slumped. If anything, she was more nervous now than she’d been prior to hearing from him. Having found a way inside didn’t guarantee he’d actually make it through the palace.

  Delaney left the bedroom, pausing as soon as she entered the sitting area when she heard a muffled thump. With a slight frown, she angled her head, trying to get a better listen. For the most part it was quiet, but less than a minute later the sound came again, closer this time, accompanied by a light tapping sound. A seemingly endless moment passed where nothing happened, and she held her breath. But then the door eased slowly inward and a Kint walked in.

  Before Delaney could feel panic, recognition dawned. The uniform had thrown her off, but now it was clear who was actually there. “Ruckus.”

  He’d slid between the gap in the doorway, and was followed closely by Pettus and Gibus. The latter quickly moved to the electrical panel, while Pettus angled himself so that he could peer out into the hall.

  She let out the breath she’d been holding, and flung herself at Ruckus, not caring how damsel in distress the move made her look. Despite the seriousness of their situation, she closed her eyes and allowed herself a second to just relish the feel of his warmth around her.

  “Gibus is working on the passcode so we can get you through the door,” he said.

  “How did you guys manage to get in?” The door was meant to keep people out as well, yet here they were.

  “Who do you think designed this system?” Gibus said without turning from the panel.

  Pettus sent him a look. “And who helped you hack it?”

  “I would have eventually figured out—”

  “Thank you,” Delaney interrupted, smiling when they both grew silent and nodded at her.

  “How much longer, Gibus?” Ruckus asked, also not wanting to give them time to argue.

  “Soon,” he replied.

  “Until then, all we can do is stay quiet.” Ruckus eased closer to her so their sides were practically pressed together. “The guards outside have been taken care of. But if anyone walks by, they’ll know what’s going on.”

  “If that happens?” She was not a huge fan of this plan so far. Waiting around seemed dangerous. “Aren’t you all committing treason by doing this?”

  “Technically.” He shrugged a single shoulder. “They might even claim we’re kidnapping you.”

  “Ironic.”

  He smoothed a large palm up her back. It hadn’t been that long since she’d last seen him, and yet now that he was next to her, it felt like a lifetime had passed. She scanned his features, checking for differences, filing away the curve of his jaw and the sharp angle of his nose. The only thing out of place about him was the fact that he was dressed in Kint colors.

  She’d been so focused on keeping herself together, she hadn’t allowed herself to feel just how much she’d truly missed him.

  “Is it totally lame if I mention how much I hate when we’re apart?” she asked, smiling when his arms tightened comfortingly.

  “Only if it’s lame for me to agree with you,” he whispered, then leaned down to kiss her.

  “Not the time,” Pettus reminded them, glancing over. Doing so caused him to look away from the corridor.

  His split second of distraction cost them.

  The door slammed open with enough force to send the Teller backward. Before Pettus could regain his footing, it was too late. The lights flicked on, sudden and bright enough to momentarily stun them all.

  “Well.” Trystan’s smooth drawl cut across the expanse. “Isn’t this interesting?”

  Delaney blinked as her eyes adjusted. At her side, Ruckus tensed, his whole body curling around hers protectively.

  Trystan propped himself against the door frame, arms over his chest, ankles crossed before him. There were at least five guards visible over his shoulder, though they remained in the hall.

  Pettus and Gibus both moved back, putting distance between themselves and the Zane.

  Ruckus’s hand twitched; he was clearly debating whether activating the weapon around his wrist was worth it.

  The move instantly drew Trystan’s gaze, and his eyes narrowed, that dangerous half smirk never leaving his lips. “I wouldn’t.”

  Another tense moment passed, then Ruckus’s hand went lax.

/>   “You should probably step away from him, Lissa.”

  Trystan was blocking the only exit, and he’d brought along reinforcements. How had he known? The lack of surprise on his face when he regarded Ruckus was telling.

  “Delaney, now.”

  Before she could decide what to do, Ruckus thrust her behind him. She let out a startled cry, struggling to reverse their positions. Trystan wouldn’t hurt her, but he definitely didn’t have any qualms about shooting Ruckus.

  She glanced over to see the Zane uncurl from the door frame, cocky smirk gone. He didn’t immediately draw a weapon, which could be either a good or bad sign. There was really no telling.

  “I’m really going to have to insist you do as I say,” Trystan warned her. “Back away from him.”

  Ruckus tried to rush forward, but she caught his arm, using all her strength to tug him back. He was so angry, she could feel his muscles shaking beneath his heated skin.

  “I’m not going to let you hurt him,” she told Trystan.

  “And yet,” he growled, “the longer you stand there, the more hurt I’m going to deliver.”

  This was bad. Really, really bad. She couldn’t think of a way to get them out of this. At least, not a way to get them all out unscathed.

  But maybe she could make sure Ruckus and the others were safe.

  She took a step forward, and this time Ruckus was the one to reach out and stop her. Even though she wanted to glance over at him, she didn’t, keeping her gaze locked on the Zane’s, her body angled in front of the Ander.

  “I want assurances they aren’t going to be harmed,” she said, glad when her voice came out strong and authoritative.

  “You aren’t exactly in a position to ask for favors,” Trystan replied, though some of the tension eased from his shoulders. He was being smug, and she hated him for it. “I could have my Tellers come in here and remove you all by force.”

  She swallowed a biting retort. Despite the satisfaction sparkling in his eyes, she could still see the note of anger burning beneath. Honestly, she was a bit surprised that he hadn’t just shot Ruckus already.

  “I’m going to walk over there,” Delaney said. “But first, you’re going to promise me that you will not shoot my friends when I do.”

  “And you’ll take that?” He canted his head. “You’ll be satisfied with my word alone?”

  “You never lie to me, right?” she said. “So don’t lie to me now.”

  “Delaney,” Ruckus growled, but he didn’t attempt to drag her back again.

  “Do you see another way?” she asked through their fittings.

  His silence was reply enough. There was no other obvious way out, and Trystan was close to losing patience. They could only delay this so long, and it wasn’t like anyone else was coming to help.

  With all four of them trapped, that was it. Delaney was going to have to do what the Zane wanted. The only thing more terrifying than that was the idea of Ruckus being injured because of her.

  “All right, Delaney,” the Zane conceded calmly. “I won’t shoot—or let anyone else shoot—the Ander or the other two once you come to me. I promise.”

  She could read between the lines; that left a lot of other horrible possibilities on the table.

  “That’s not—”

  “Don’t get greedy, Lissa,” he cut her off. “That’s all I’m willing to offer you. Take it or leave it.”

  Ruckus’s fingers flexed around her arm. He was strong and solid at her side, the familiar smell of burning firewood drifting to her. If anything, it just drove home how important this was to her, how badly she needed to keep him safe.

  “It’s my turn to play hero,” she joked, aware that the hint of humor she’d attempted to put in her tone sounded forced. “Besides, how can you get us out of this later if you’re dead?”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Well, yeah. Neither do I.”

  “If he hurts you—”

  “He won’t.” She didn’t mention that she was well aware that Trystan’s calm was all for show. “He won’t hurt me.”

  Afraid that if she waited any longer she’d somehow lose her nerve, Delaney pulled away. With each step toward the Zane, her heart pounded louder in her chest, the crescendo drowning out everything else.

  She felt more than saw Ruckus reach for her at the last second, but Trystan was faster, stepping swiftly between them. As soon as he had, the group of guards in the hall filed in, and she tried to watch as they moved toward her friends, but she was forced out of the room.

  Delaney started to turn back, wanting to make sure Ruckus and the others were okay. The sight of the hallway caused her to stop in surprise instead.

  A line of bodies trailed all the way down to the end where the corridor branched off. A pair of booted feet poked out from the side, indicating there were more fallen soldiers around the corner. She thought they were probably unconscious and not dead—she hadn’t heard any shots—but there were still a lot of them, at least two dozen, all unmoving.

  “Did you do this?” She sent the question to Ruckus telepathically without thinking, then let out a startled sound when Trystan rested a hand at her elbow.

  Once he had her attention, he let go, tilting his head down the opposite end of the hall. Without a word, he started walking away, expecting her to follow. He moved confidently enough, though his spine was stiff.

  “Focus on staying safe, Delaney,” Ruckus told her before the connection ended.

  The guards had completely blocked her view from within the room. Seeing no other choice, she risked one last glance at the Tellers who Ruckus and her friends had knocked out, then quickly went after Trystan. Even once she’d reached him, she had to practically jog to keep up.

  “What are they going to do with Ruckus?” she asked when he didn’t acknowledge her. “If you’ve—”

  “Let’s keep the threats to a minimum, shall we?” he said, a hint of irritation slipping through. “The Ander is fine. For now.”

  She faltered, almost falling. Strong arms caught her before she could face-plant, hauling her up against a wall of muscle.

  “Thanks,” she growled, “but I think I would have preferred the floor.”

  Trystan instantly let go and turned away, continuing to stride down the hall before she could catch sight of his expression.

  Why had she done that? Inwardly, she cursed her stupidity. He had Ruckus, and yet here she was taunting him. Again. While he was furious with her.

  They reached the hangar, and she slowed when he stopped in front of a large aircraft she’d never seen before. It was sleek and white, with silver trimmings around the curved wings. It vaguely resembled spaceships she’d seen in the past, only with all rounded angles. And it was twice the size of the one Ruckus owned.

  Without a word, Trystan started up the narrow steps that led to the wide opening at the side of the ship.

  She hesitated, all her instincts screaming to turn and run the other way, but she scoffed at them. It wasn’t like she’d never been in an enclosed space with the Zane before. She’d survived it then; she’d do so now.

  The loading dock she entered was dark, the only lights the ones that lined the walls at their base. The stairs retracted immediately behind her, and resealed against the side of the ship a few seconds before the engine thrummed to life and she felt them lifting.

  She scanned the room, jumping a little when she realized Trystan was standing with his back toward her on the other side. In the dark, it was impossible to make anything out other than his large outline.

  “How did you know?” She needed to stay focused on that, on the logistics of it all. Trystan had not only discovered them, he’d timed it perfectly.

  “You told me.” His answer was sharp, to the point.

  She froze. “That’s a lie.”

  “It isn’t,” he said. Only, not out loud.

  His words entered her mind like a cold breeze, making her shiver. The fact that he could speak to her telepa
thically meant only one thing, and she felt sick to her stomach.

  “You hacked my fitting,” she said, though she couldn’t get the strength to return to her voice. “When? Do you know how invasive that is?”

  “We’re going to be bonded, Delaney,” he said, like that should excuse everything. “And I did it on our way to Xenith, while you were still sleeping.”

  “I was unconscious!” she snarled.

  The lights flickered around them and then burst to life again, the sharp white glow momentarily disorienting her. She blinked past the pain, not wanting to let him out of her sight.

  When she was able to see again, Trystan merely tilted his head. The arrogance written across his devilish face made her curse herself for ever believing getting away could be so simple.

  Of course he’d hacked her fitting. Why hadn’t she thought of that possibility herself?

  “Where is he?” she asked. In the same instant, a side door swooshed open with a gust of warm air.

  Sanzie stood in the newly exposed hall, her hands clasped before her, a fritz bracelet on either wrist. She kept her gaze steady on Trystan.

  “Zane,” she said curtly, “D-Sub is approaching now. It’s been confirmed they have the cargo. Shall I direct them to Carnage?”

  Trystan eyed Delaney before answering. “No, have them follow us to Inkwell. Tell the pilot to maintain a thirty-five-yard distance at all times, and have him dock at the west-side entrance.”

  The Teller’s jaw clenched. “Yes, Zane.” Then she departed as quickly as she’d come.

  “She didn’t seem to agree with your orders,” Delaney said, staring at the still-open door.

  “Teller Sanzie doesn’t approve of keeping the Ander. They have history.” He motioned her closer with two fingers before she could ponder that last statement. “Follow me.”

  * * *

  THEY WENT ALL the way to the back of the ship through a network of twists and turns impossible to keep up with. Trystan stopped her at another doorway. “Here.”

  The room was empty aside from a small cot attached to the right wall and a table with two chairs in the left corner. A single window rested in the center of the wall, exposing a view of the teal sky and the front of another ship.