“Baby? What’s wrong?”
Maris drew a ragged breath. “I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I don’t mind when you go all military on me. So long as you don’t hurt me, I’m good with it.”
He lifted his head to pierce him with a sincere stare. “I would never hurt you.”
Extremely worried now, Ture nodded. “I know.” He brushed his fingers against the beard he’d talked Maris into growing. He’d never cared for them in the past, but Maris made it look sexier than hell. “I really do love you, Mari. Insanity and all.”
Maris wanted to return those words with every part of himself. But he couldn’t. Especially not tonight. To say that back would dare fate to hurt Ture. To rip him out of Maris’s life.
Instead, he finally stepped away so that Ture could enter his apartment. Still he couldn’t shake the bad feeling in his gut. Something was wrong. Every instinct he had was on high alert.
Shrugging his jacket off, he laid it over the chair where he usually kept it.
“You know, Mari... I’ve been thinking.”
His gut knotted with dread. Here it comes . . . Get out. He knew it was too good to last. “Yeah?”
Ture hedged, which twisted Maris’s stomach into a painful knot. “I . . . um . . . would you . . . “ He let out a hard breath. “Okay, I’m just going to say it. I can do this. Really . . . Would you like to move in with me? I mean, you’re already here most of the time, anyway. Right?”
Maris went weak at the offer as joy ripped through him. “I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
Ture bit his lip as happiness filled him. He’d been wanting to ask Maris to move in, but had been too afraid to since Maris was so reluctant to say he loved him. Not that he had to. It showed in everything Maris did. Big and little. Such as taking over the paperwork so that Ture could focus on prepping the kitchen and leave a little earlier to come home. Stepping in with a willing pair of hands whenever Ture or his staff needed help. Going into the fridge for him so that he wouldn’t get chilled. Letting him go first in the shower every morning so that he never had to take a lukewarm or cold bath. A million thoughtful things that came together to make Maris the sweetest, hottest lover anyone could ask for. And while Mari wasn’t perfect, he tried. That more than anything meant the universe to him.
He pressed his cheek to Maris’s. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you, sweetie.”
Maris frowned as Ture left him and headed for the bedroom. “I do love you,” he whispered. But every time he tried to say it out loud, he choked on the words.
Just once in his life, he wanted everything to work out. Nothing would make him happier than to relive the last few weeks over and over again, until he died from pure joy overload. He didn’t want any of it to change.
Ever.
But nothing ever lasted.
Not the bad.
And especially not the good.
CHAPTER 9
Maris paused as someone knocked on his bedroom door. “Come in.”
Darling opened it and entered the room with a frown. “I just heard that you’d returned and. . . .” His scowl deepened as he saw the bags Maris was packing. Because of his reluctance to tempt fate, Maris had spent the last two weeks moving his things over to Ture’s apartment. He was hoping if he went slow enough, bad luck wouldn’t take notice of him and slap him down for daring to be happy with someone else.
“You’re leaving?”
Maris duplicated his scowl as he caught the hurt note in Darling’s voice. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
“Honestly? A little, yeah. I miss having you around, bud. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
Maris tucked his shirts into his bag then closed the distance between them. He pulled Darling into his arms and gave him a light hug. “You know you’re my first love.”
Darling tightened his grip before he released him. “I’m not used to sharing you like this. I don’t like it, Mari.”
“So you do love me?” he teased.
“You know I do.”
But not romantically. Darling’s heart and soul would always belong to Zarya first and Maris was good with that. And now that he had Ture, he understood it better than he ever had before.
Darling swallowed hard. “Through thick and thin, brothers to the bitter end, right?”
Maris gave him a sincere stare. “Always. You need me, night or day, you know I’m here for you. Ture says he accepts that and is good with it.” The gods knew, Ture had already proven it. He had yet to say anything nasty about how often Maris vanished whenever Darling beckoned.
“You really care about him, don’t you?”
Maris hesitated. What he felt was so complicated. He seriously enjoyed hanging out in the restaurant with Ture and his staff. Stealing kisses in the corners when no one was looking. It didn’t bother him at all that they spent sixteen to twenty hours a day there.
He even enjoyed helping Ana tend Terek in the middle of the night. Watching the baby during the day so that she could rest. It was the first time in his life that he really felt like he was home. That he was part of a family that accepted everything about him. Even his early morning crankiness.
When he’d first moved into the Caronese Winter Palace as an ambassador, Darling’s uncle had made him feel like a venereal disease in a whorehouse. Arturo had gone out of his way to verbally attack him and Darling.
Then after Arturo’s death, Darling had been...honestly, insane. For a time, he’d even feared that Darling might kill them both.
Until Zarya.
She had healed Darling and returned him to the best friend he’d been growing up. But from the moment she moved in, Darling had been preoccupied with her, leaving Maris to feel like a third wheel. They’d tried to include him, but they wanted and needed to be alone at times, and that was how it should be.
Still, he’d felt a bit abandoned and a lot lonely.
At least until Ture had come into his life. He didn’t know what it was about that man, but he calmed the rage inside Maris that had simmered in his gut since the day his parents had disowned him. Ture touched a part of him that he hadn’t even known he possessed. All he wanted was to be with him. And yet he lived in a state of constant fear that he would lose everything again.
It left him twisted in a knot and unsure. Terrified and anxious, and at the same time happy and serene.
None of it made sense to him.
“I’m not sure how to answer.”
Darling narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “What was the first thing that entered your mind, and I know it wasn’t what you just said.”
Sighing, Maris stepped away. Darling knew him better than anyone. Even himself. “Yes. I like him a lot.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You know the problem.” Maris looked down at his clothes and luggage. “What am I doing, Darling? I know this isn’t going to last. It can’t. It never does. And I’m so tired of being hurt. How did you ever forgive Zarya for betraying you?”
Darling snorted. “It wasn’t easy. But this great friend of mine threw her at me and left me with no choice, except to deal with the pain of my past. And I wanted to hate her in ways you can’t imagine. I craved it. Yet as hard as it was to trust her, the agony of existing without her was so much worse. There are only a handful of people in this universe I need. The thought of losing one of you sends me into a panic that is indescribable. It’s why the sight of those bags on your bed pisses me off to an Andarion type of rage level. I can’t protect you if you’re not here.”
“As long as I’m sober, I do a pretty good job of protecting my own posterior...and yours.”
“I know. But as of last night, the League has increased the bounty on all our heads again. At this point, your ass is worth almost twice the price of mine. I think Kyr is using you to hurt me.”
“What abou
t Zarya and Drake?”
“Zarya’s a political nightmare for him that he’s publicly avoiding. Who knows what he’s doing in private? Likewise, he’s staying away from naming my brothers and sister. He’s not sure they helped rescue Zarya and Ture and the others, so legally, he can’t touch them.”
That made Maris feel a bit better. “Is there a price on Ture’s head?”
“No. Just those of us Kyr could identify in the rescue party.”
“Me, you, Nykyrian and Caillen.”
He nodded. “It’s just a matter of time before they start sending in their top assassins.”
Maris zipped his last bag closed. “Saf will warn me before they come after me.”
“If he knows. Kyr might not tell him.”
Maris shook his head in denial. “Kyr doesn’t know we still talk.” If he did, he’d kill their little brother and then Maris would annihilate him over it. Ever since Saf had been mistaken for him and brutally attacked when his father had tried to assassinate him, Maris had been hyper protective of him.
No one touched Saf with immunity.
“It’s about to get bad, Mari. I had to dispatch troops to solidify my borders an hour ago. The League is headed for our colonies and is trying to blockade and embargo us. Most of the empires have withdrawn in fear of them. They hit two of the Sentella’s smaller bases yesterday, and killed almost two hundred people. They injured over a thousand more.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Nor am I. Not for me. But for those I love...I don’t want to see you hurt because I rage-hit your brother when I should have held my temper in check.”
Maris smiled at him. “I told you when we headed out to rescue Zarya that if you were going to hell, I’d be driving the bus. Bring the rain.”
Darling sighed. “And it’s coming, my brother. With a torrential downpour. One I don’t want you caught in.”
CHAPTER 10
Over and over, Darling’s warning replayed in Maris’s head as he sat in the commercial transport that was locked in traffic. He’d never been patient with such things, but today...
He scowled as he swept the scenery around them and a bad feeling went through him. When hunted, gridlock was a dangerous thing. It was another of the reasons he normally drove an airbike. They were virtually impossible to trap like this.
But with luggage, he’d needed a trunk. And a transport made him an easy mark.
Every ounce of his military training kicked in.
“I’ll get out here,” he said to the driver before he swiped his card. “Deliver my bags to the destination and I’ll make sure you’re well tipped.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Two seconds after Maris swiped his card, he cringed at the rampant stupidity. Damn, he’d lived as a civ too long. If the League was monitoring for them, he’d just given up his location. Stupid moron.
Cursing himself, Maris slid out of the transport and secured his smallest bag across his body so that both of his arms would be free. He didn’t pause or hesitate as he maneuvered through the crowded street on foot. Making sure to keep one hand on his concealed blaster, he stayed vigilant and hated every second of it.
Even though it was ingrained in him by countless hours of training and drills, this degree of heightened alert threw him back to a time and place he didn’t want to revisit.
What are you, a pathetic faggot? Keep your guard up! Only queers rely on their girlfriends to protect them. You are a soldier, not some limp-wristed pussy.
Back then, he’d lived in a state of perpetual pissed off. It’d been bad enough to be insulted, but to hear the open and hostile disdain on a preference he’d done his best to deny and “cure” had only made it worse. He’d tried everything to be like the other men in his family and the academy and armada. To tell himself that he wasn’t really gay. That it was a faze or curiosity. Or anything other than what it really was.
Only his fiancé, Tams, had made it bearable. Because she wasn’t Phrixian, she’d assumed his strange behavior and reluctance to touch her was his own nervousness from being a different species.
Best of all, she’d given him an easy excuse to stay celibate. He’d told her that he didn’t want to dishonor her before their wedding. Tams had thought it sweet, even while his father had rolled his eyes at something he considered unmanly. Phrixian males were slaves to their ids. Morality was dictated only when you went up against someone who could kick your ass. Otherwise, the universe was your playground and you did what you wanted.
The lies and unrelenting fear of being exposed had brought Maris one step shy of insanity.
Only Darling had known the truth and he’d coached Maris on how to fake a warrior’s stride. On how to pass undetected around the staunch machismo that went against his natural tendencies. But for Darling and his help, Maris would have been killed before he reached his maturity. There was no such thing as a homosexual Phrixian. Never in his life had Maris met or even heard of anyone other than him.
And to be a prince on top of it...
That more than anything else was why his bounty was higher than Darling’s or Nykyrian’s. Nykyrian might have taken Kyr’s eye, but so long as Maris lived, he was a blight on their family honor. And if one of his brothers could claim his life, he would be regaled by their parents for cleansing their gene pool. Maris’s killer would be honored as a national hero.
A sudden flash to his right caught his attention.
Reacting on instinct, Maris dropped down an instant before a black dart sailed so close to his face, he felt the air burn of it. From behind, an assassin moved in with a knife as the crowd realized what was happening and panicked. People ran in all directions, screaming while they sought shelter. Maris spun and caught the man’s wrist. The assassin cried out as Maris twisted and snapped the bone. The assassin came up with his blaster, but before he could fire it, Maris struck his nose with the heel of his hand. He wrested the blaster from the assassin’s grip as the man fell to the street. Switching it to stun, Maris shot him and stayed low as he scanned for his next target.
He caught sight of the one who’d sent the dart at him and moved toward him with raw determination. Without realizing it, he fell into target fixation and missed the third assassin who sank a dagger deep into his side. Hissing, he turned and backhanded his assailant. As he moved to snap his neck, Maris froze.
Draygon...
His younger brother who was barely a year older than Saf.
He winced at the sight of him. Switching tactics, he held Draygon on the ground in a fierce grip against his neck. A smart man would end him. Brother or not. Yet when Maris went in for the kill, he didn’t see a soldier. He saw his brother laughing as they tried to jump over a ditch that had left Maris with a broken leg. Even though Draygon was injured himself, he’d carried Maris home.
This wasn’t an enemy.
It was his little brother.
Draygon’s dark eyes dared him now, just as they’d done as kids whenever they’d gotten crossed up over something. Maris could hear the taunt in his head. Go ahead and hit me! I can take it.
That was what they’d both been raised on.
Silent, Draygon stared defiantly, waiting for a death blow.
Maris jerked the dagger out of his injured side that Draygon had planted there. Without a word, he sank low and threw it straight into the heart of the assassin he’d been fixated on.
Still, his brother’s gaze never wavered as he waited for Maris to kill him. Maris pinned him with a paralyzing hold that Draygon had never been able to escape. If Maris let him go, Draygon’s honor would be eternally damaged. To be defeated by a target was the ultimate Phrixian insult.
For that target to be homosexual...
The kindest act would be to cut Draygon’s throat and leave him dead on the street. But as Maris looked into a set of eyes identical to his own, he couldn’t do it.
In spite of everything.
Knocking Draygon unconscious, he quickly moved away through the screaming
civilians, with his hand pressed against his deep wound.
I have to get help. At the rate he was bleeding, he’d never make it to a hospital. He only had enough time for one call before he passed out, and most likely died in the street...
Without hesitating, he called the one single voice he needed to hear most.
“Hey, love. Are you on your way back?”
Maris panted with the weight of his pain as his vision dimmed. “I’m badly wounded, Ture.”
“What?”
Maris skirted into an alley and pressed his back to the stone wall as he slid down it, deeper into the shadows. He glanced around for more assassins. “I was attacked.”
“Baby, where are you?”
Maris tried to focus, but warm blood kept flowing over his hand and down his leg. He slipped on it and hit the street.
“Mari! Talk to me.”
“Um...” Everything spun around him. He tried to get up and couldn’t. He was dying and he knew it. “Ture... I love you.”
* * *
“Maris!” Ture shouted as Maris’s whispered words lanced his heart.
There was no answer.
Terrified as tears filled his eyes, he snatched off his apron and called Darling. He handed his apron to his sous chef. “You’re in charge until I get back.”
Her jaw dropped as he ran for the door. The moment Ture reached the street, Darling answered.
“Darling? It’s Ture. Maris just called me and he’s been attacked and is wounded. I think he passed out while he was talking to me. He didn’t have a chance to tell me where he was. Help him, please. Tell me how to find him.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m outside my restaurant.”
He could hear the sounds of Darling running. “Okay...he left here about twenty minutes ago. He should be closer to the restaurant than the palace. He would have automatically gone for shelter. An alley probably. I’m on my way, but I have to hang up to trace him.”
Tears streamed down Ture’s face. “Find him, please.” His breathing ragged as panic threatened to overtake him, he hung up and ran down Maris’s route, trying to figure out where Maris might have gone.
Cloak & Silence (The League) Page 12