by Debra Jess
Their bodies molded together perfectly, and oh so real. Dream sex could not compare to the strength and passion Daeven showered her with. Together they started to move in tandem, her body coming alive as she rubbed her chest against his, their shirts getting in the way of contact they desired. Letting go of his muscled shoulders, she slipped her hands down his chest until they reached the hem of her shirt. She tugged the fabric up to her chin. His eyes darkened, realizing how far she wanted to go.
Slipping off to the side, he took advantage of her horizontal striptease to perform one of his own. With their clothes divested into a pile on the floor, they both raced to make up for the time wasted, hands all over each other, teasing, rubbing, stroking smooth skin now exposed. Tickling Daeven’s stomach with her fingernails had him groaning and grinding harder against her as she slipped her fingers higher, the silky blond hair twining around her fingers.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,“ he whispered.
Instead of asking why and where and when, Tamarja placed those questions in a box and tucked them away in the furthest part of her brain. She desperately needed to focus on the here and now while she still could. Small wisps of fog started creep forward, but she fought it back by slipping her hands down to Daeven’s perfect backside, the muscles bunching together under her tight grip. A wave of pleasure rolled along her pelvis, rocking her upward so she could feel his hardness pressing against her.
“Um, Daeven.“
What she was about to say got lost when he slipped in between her legs. The shock of pure pleasure danced along every nerve. Through a white haze, Daeven became more intense, watching her as he rubbed her, creating friction, forcing her upward against him.
“You were saying?“
She gasped as another wave of pent-up desire raced through her. What had she been about to say? Oh, right.
“I don’t remember…“
“You don’t have to, I can…“
“No. I mean, I don’t know…have we done this before? How can I feel all this and not remember you?“
All of the sensations stopped, leaving her gasping for more of the unfinished friction. He started to pull away, but she tugged him back into place.
“No, we’ve never done this.“ He looked everywhere except at her, licking his lips, the uncertainty as obvious as his desire for her.
There was something he wasn’t telling her though. Of course, she wasn’t telling him she had been dreaming of a former lover…maybe?
“It’s okay,“ she said, arching her back to beg him to keep going. “I wasn’t sure. I needed to be sure.“ Everything she didn’t know about herself could make any relationship with Daeven more difficult. Since he knew more about her past than she did, did he know about Rory? Was that why he wanted to make love with her now, because she couldn’t remember and this was his only chance?
Shoving that thought away, she slipped her arms back around his shoulders while pressing her pelvis against him. She needed him to move now. “Whatever I was or wasn’t to you before, it doesn’t matter to me. If this is our only chance to have any relationship at all, then I want you here and now. I care about you, Daeven. I don’t remember enough to know if this is love or lust or something else, but I want you.“
“You haven’t changed.“ Pinning her down with one hand, he gently stroked her face with the other, looking at her as if for the first and last time. “Since the moment I met you, you had this attitude of being above any personal wants or desires. Even in the worst possible situation, you challenged me to think outside the small box I had created to protect myself from what I felt. You made me want more than just to…“
“What?“
“I don’t know. Until you came into my life, I had been content to wallow in my hate and desire for revenge. You made me need something different.“
“I’m that good?“
He gave a slight eye roll before spooning against her. “Even in the worst of circumstances you made me laugh, just like you are now.“
“You mean, I’m not that good.“
“And you’re the most exasperating woman I’ve ever met.“ He rolled back onto her, his lips next to her ear, each breath tickling her senses, her body arching ever so slightly in response to the stimulation. “I don’t know how good you are because this is the first time I’ve ever touched you without inadvertently hurting you. There were some things out of my control back then. Hurting you wasn’t an option I could avoid, not without placing others in danger.“
He’d hurt her, but he didn’t elaborate. Maybe it was best that he didn’t, especially if he created a memory fog. The fog be damned—the feeling of the sheets against her legs as she widened them, Daeven slipping inside her with ease, not even a whiff of pain, and stoking her over and over, the delicious sensations crowded out all anxiety and stress and curiosity.
Together they rocked in tandem. Despite everything she’d been though, her strength had made some gains. She managed to match his rhythm, clutching his hips with her thighs, giving deeper access to her core. Electric pleasure hummed through her, each thrust drawing out a louder moan, along with a few choice words to bring him higher until they climaxed together. Even then, Daeven wouldn’t stop touching her, prolonging the sensitive shocks tingling along the length of her body. In this moment, maybe for this one time, Tamarja imagined how beautiful her life would be with Daeven by her side.
As the shocks subsided, though, she also realized how much she would lose if she lost him.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Complications, complications. There had to be a way around all these complications. Complicated situations called for complicated solutions—and who was the most complicated man she knew?
Tamarja jerked out of Daeven's arms and reached for her ear jack.
"Now what are you up to?" Daeven asked, propping up on one elbow, the sheets falling away from his bare chest distracting her, but only for a second.
"I'm comming Yohzad. He can free Jita."
"I doubt that."
"Why?"
"He's not high enough on the Manitac food chain." Daeven trailed a single finger up her abdomen, between her breasts until he tugged her hand away from her ear. "He couldn't even reverse the signal that shut down your collar. What makes you think that he'd want to free Jita, much less be able to?"
"He can at least try."
Daeven still looked skeptical.
"C'mon, Daeven. I'm just going to ask him, that's all. Asking couldn't possibly make the situation worse than what it is."
"He works for Manitac. The situation can always get worse."
Tamarja wrinkled her nose as she jacked into the first free channel available and punched up Yohzad's connection. She waited, but he didn't respond. When prompted, she left a simple message to contact her before disconnecting.
She dropped her head back onto the pillow, stretching her arms over her head.
"At least you tried." Daeven snuggled next to her, his body pressed against hers on the small bed.
Tamarja didn't respond, relaxing against the comfort of having someone hold her close.
"He's probably heading for Jarvis Station. The director might have filed a token protest to keep up the appearance of actually caring about what happens to her employees. Cyrek will have to follow up on that protest. He'll be in meetings all night. You know how much Manitac loves meetings. If I know Cyrek, he'll contact you as soon as he's able."
Tamarja rolled, so she faced Daeven nose to nose. Having him so close, so intimate with his hands on her, made her desire him all the more. Maybe even feel something stronger than desire. Her friend’s disappearance made her realize how precious every moment she had with Daeven was. As if he knew what she was thinking, he pulled her closer, teasing her lips with his own, making her want to repeat their lovemaking. What she wouldn’t give to have him inside her once more, but she couldn’t. Jita needed her.
"What about the Shadows? How can I contact them?"
This time D
aeven was the one who jerked away. "You want to try to drag the Shadows into this?"
“Drag them into it? They are already neck-deep. And isn’t this what they fight against? Don’t they want to protect people?“
"What is Jita to you that you're going to risk a war just to get her back?" Daeven sat up, his agitation forcing him off the bed. He retrieved his pants from where he had thrown them on the floor. "That's what's going to happen, you know. If you somehow manage to contact the Shadows, and if they decide they have something to gain by rescuing your friend, and if they pull it off without making her situation worse―and believe me that's a very big if―are you willing to destroy most of Dawn's Landing to rescue her?"
"It's not just about her." Tamarja sat up. "It's about all of them. All the colonists who are at risk of being turned into ‘pets! I know what's in store for them. I'm living what's about to happen to them. We have to stop this somehow. Someone has to make a stand."
Rage, sorrow, passion, and sadness all crossed Daeven's face at the same time, distorting his handsome features into a solid mask of pain. He reached over to grab his shirt and field jacket from her desk chair.
"Where are you going?"
"To get you your damn Black Wave."
Tamarja started to protest, but Daeven whirled back on her, jabbing his finger into her face. "You want to make a stand? You want to get all self-righteous with Manitac? You're playing with people's lives and not just the ones Manitac has disappeared. You are not the one to decide when and where we make a stand."
He stormed out the door, leaving Tamarja sitting alone on her bed.
Daeven sat in a borrowed floater parked outside the main security facility. Still fuming over his fight with Tamarja, he figured he needed a few minutes of quiet before he tried to steal the Black Wave that she would need to get her memory back.
Getting the drug didn't worry him. Dawn's Landing had nothing in the way of a formal court. If anyone got caught carrying the Black Wave, they would be busted, processed, and shipped off to Jarvis Station and the tender mercies of Manitac security until someone picked them up and took them home—or off to be wiped, depending on the circumstances.
After listening to the main security channel for an hour, it seemed that AuRaKaz security had its hands full with Black Wave raids. The raids had been planned for the next week and he was supposed to be a part of them, but someone had sent down orders to move up the timetable. Maybe the director thought to impress her Manitac overlords with a shipload of new prisoners?
Regardless, Black Wave found during the arrests would be recorded and then incinerated or shipped to biotech for study. Two or three missing packets would not be noticed, especially if security was short-staffed and he volunteered to help process the Black Wave during his off-duty hours. He shouldn't need more than that.
He dissolved the driver's side door. Despite his unresolved feelings about Tamarja, he would help her get her memory back, no matter the recklessness of her decision, no matter the pain her death would cause him. She wanted this, desperately, and he couldn’t deny her. If he did, he was afraid she’d find a way to get it on her own. And if she did that, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t take it on her own without medical supervision.
His ear jacked chimed before he could enter security's headquarters, a drab building not far from Facility Prime. He stopped long enough to check the comm. It was Joran on their private channel.
"Where are you now?"
Odd question. Joran usually knew exactly where Daeven was at every minute of the day. The man had an uncanny knack for tracking his partner, one that he used despite Daeven's annoyance. "I'm at headquarters, why?"
"We have a problem."
"Another one?"
"Yes, well, I just received contact from our cell group on Dawn's Desert. We have a new assignment."
Dawn's Desert was a barren wasteland in the same solar system as Dawn's Landing. No one would touch it when the lush biological offerings of Dawn's Landing dangled nearby. Terraforming it on a large scale would have been prohibitive. It made a perfect location for their Shadow cell group to establish a base. From there, they could follow the action on Dawn's Landing without being noticed.
"We haven't even finished the old assignment. What changed?"
"Oh, you'll like this. Lots of action and adventure instead of all this sneaking around."
Action and adventure didn't necessarily mean the assignment would end well. "Spill. What are we doing?"
"I told the higher-ups about the possibility of Black Wave reversing the memory wipe on your ‘pet. If it works on Chase, they want us to shut down Jarvis Station, just long enough for another cell group to sneak in our brand new fleet of attack ships through the slipstream and deliver them to Dawn's Desert."
"Are you kidding me? You did tell them that we have a Manitac warship sitting on our front porch, didn't you?"
"Of course I did, dear boy. I wouldn't let a tiny detail like that slip my mind. The problem is that they have a limited window of opportunity to do the same at the other end of the slipstream. You know we'll need these ships if we're ever going to take over Dawn's Landing. Think of it: we'll have a fleet to take on Manitac, and we can begin reversing the memory wipes on the ‘pets already here. We can let the information loose through our underground network. If we bring enough ‘pets here for treatment, we can establish our own free colony with a fleet of our own."
That was the master plan. Wait until enough infrastructure had been built up on Dawn's Landing and then simply take control of the colony and the station that controlled the slipstream. Once the Shadows had control of one end of a slipstream, they could keep Manitac away. It was going to be a colony for Shadow loyalists, but by bringing ‘pets here, the Shadows could grow the colony to beyond just a navy of rebels.
"When is this little sideshow supposed to take place?"
"It all depends on your girlfriend. They've given us four days to report back. If she survives, they'll send us more precise information. In the meantime, we need to figure out how to knock out Jarvis Station temporarily."
It was all Daeven could do to keep his expression neutral. Joran’s nonchalant mention of Tamarja’s potential death was cold, even for him. He wanted to reach through the comm and strangle the man. Instead, he asked, "Do you have the schematics?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"All right. I'll stop by as soon as I have the Black Wave."
A long pause stretched out. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Daeven? Giving her Black Wave could open up a black hole that could consume you. Despite what the higher-ups want, I can still fake her death for you if necessary."
Daeven almost couldn't believe Joran's offer. Did his partner have a heart after all? Or was Joran working another angle of the plan Daeven couldn't see? "I know that better than anyone else, Joran, but I can't just abandon her. You know what she just told me?"
"No, what did she tell you?"
"She said she wants to contact the Shadows, have them swoop in and rescue her friend."
Joran chuckled. For a moment, Daeven could see the irony himself, but humor? No. It most certainly wasn’t funny.
"If that isn't history repeating itself, then I don't know what is," Joran said.
"Yeah, but she's right and she's wrong. She wants to fight, and she wants justice. She wants everything the Shadows are supposed to represent."
"Life isn't always that clean-cut. We both know that."
Daeven nodded, even though Joran hadn't activated the viewer and couldn't see him. "I know that. She does too. Somewhere back in her memory, she knows how complicated the Shadow mission can become."
"Well, if we can give her back her memory, we might just find the key to opening the doors to Dawn's Landing."
Daeven sighed. Tamarja wanted to contact the Shadows so she could rescue people. Unknowingly, she was helping the Shadows take over Dawn's Landing. Still, if Black Wave did turn out to be the secret cure for Manitac's
memory wipes, then maybe she could comfort herself with knowing that someday she might find her friend and rescue her after all.
"When will you be ready to administer the Black Wave?" Daeven asked.
"Tomorrow night should be just fine. Right after your shift, assuming she's not flying."
"I'll let her know."
"Be careful. It's the simplest actions that can get you killed."
"I will. And Joran…" He waited to make sure Joran hadn't disconnected. "Thank you."
"Hold your thanks until after we know Tamarja Chase survives."
Chapter Thirty-Four
It was a sad state of affairs when even dream sex didn’t excite her. But then, after her tryst with Daeven, the dream just didn’t compare.
Tamarja stretched her body, straining against Rory's even as he slid in and out of her. She tried to feel something, anything, but the routine dream―or nightmare―proceeded with precision. She had no control. Crying out in anger rather than pleasure, she shuddered as she climaxed, Rory following right after.
Her eyes opened, as they always did when the dream ended. One small mercy. When the dream ended, it ended. It didn't start over again. Maybe she did have some control after all. If the dream repeated itself all night, each night, she would have lost her sanity days ago.
Groaning, she sat up, her overstimulated nerve endings singing for more physical pleasure. She clamped down on that. Even within her dreamscape, when she tried to find some spark of emotion, some love, or even some hate over Rory's lovemaking, she couldn't find it. There was nothing to feel, nothing to touch, no spark of a promise, of a deeper commitment. No other memories.
At least that part would change soon. She hoped. She didn't want to die, but she couldn't go on like this forever.