Fire & Soul

by Siobhan Crosslin

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Book Details

  Dedication

  Fire and Soul

  About the Author

  FIRE & SOUL

  Siobhan Crosslin

  As children, Temsha and his twin brother were kidnapped, their parents murdered, and forced to become sky force pilots for the notorious Lord Jheghda. Their younger brother was sold off to become an anam, a companion and power source for pilots, and if they are lucky they get to see him every three years.

  After he nearly kills their latest anam, Temsha is at his limit. He is tired of being a slave, tired of worrying constantly about the brother he has not seen for six years, and tired of burning out anams. When they are assigned a new anam, Temsha tries to resist getting close, because one more loss will be the one that breaks him.

  Note: While there is no incest, the brothers do share a lover.

  Book Details

  Fire & Soul

  By Siobhan Crosslin

  Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Tanni Fan

  Cover designed by V. Rios

  This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition April 2014

  Copyright © 2014 by Siobhan Crosslin

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN 9781620043363

  To Drew, for being my muse.

  And to my mama, for always being there.

  Fire and Soul

  Court is bright colors, swirling shapes and voices overlapping and fighting for dominance. Cold masks frame lips—slashes of sneers, biting smiles and cruel laughter—all rebounding off the marble and clear glass of the receiving room. And everywhere, the sweet, cool rasp of silk on silk on skin.

  His Eminent Lord Jheghda of Clan Bredan tilts his head and flicks his fingers. One of his aides glides forward and leans down to whisper in His Eminence's ear. Jheghda's lips quirk at whatever the aide says and the Alliance official seated opposite our entourage pales. His Eminence is not known for his tolerant amusement.

  "You've heard of the pride of my family's sky forces." The official nods before Jheghda finishes speaking. Jheghda's fleet of space fighters, commonly referred to as adjuncts, are renowned throughout the Alliance. Jheghda gestures widely—Mikscn and I end up included in the sweep more by chance than any care on Jheghda's part. Not that anyone could miss the black metal collars around our throats. "Do you know the story of how they were acquired?" Jheghda sounds supremely bored, which means he's putting this show on just to punish us. The bruise ringing my eye throbs and I fight the itch to move.

  "No, Prince," the official says.

  "There were rumors of a family in my forests, retired pilots with three sons," Jheghda says, and I can catch the edge of a grin from where I'm standing. "They didn't declare their presence, so I had my men investigate."

  Investigate—yeah. I can still smell the burning wood and the coppery stench of blood.

  "The two elder sons were taken as pilots. The third, I sold to be trained as an anam." Out of the corner of my eye I see Mikscn stiffen. "It really is too bad pilots can't be paired with an anam sibling. They're all terribly powerful."

  "I've heard stories." The official fidgets in his seat, but I don't let the movement draw my eye.

  "They're permitted to see their sibling every three years, provided their behavior has been good."

  Distress rolls off Mikscn in waves and I close my eyes. There's no use pretending now.

  "They would have been able to see their brother during this trip if Temsha hadn't overloaded their newest anam." Jheghda turns his head towards me. "Right, Temsha?"

  "Yes, Eminence," I croak. Another three years. And Cherian is probably here somewhere, or at least on the planet. So close, dammit!

  Jheghda flicks his fingers at the official, who recoils. "But we're all works in progress. Temsha really does try so hard." His tone is honey sweet and cold and I let it wash over me, my eyes squeezed shut.

  *~*~*

  "I'm not angry about what happened with our anam."

  I glare at the damaged electrical panel in my hand and wish I could disappear inside the adjunct. I lean over and look down. Mikscn stands at our mech's feet, his hand held up to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun off the white alloy.

  "You should be," I reply as I pick up a screwdriver. The adjunct's right shoulder is in pieces around me, the plating pulled away to expose the inner workings where the pirates had managed to fuck our shit up.

  "You weren't mad when I fucked up last time." Mikscn's voice is a little closer and a quick glance confirms he's climbing up the adjunct's leg. I sigh. I knew I shouldn't've left the adjunct on one knee.

  "You didn't get our anam put in a coma last time," I say with a vicious jab into the electrical panel. "We don't get to see Cherian and our anam is probably going to be euthanized." Jheghda's not exactly patient when his property doesn't work the way it should.

  I had positioned the adjunct so its arm rests on its bent knee. Mikscn settles on the back of the wrist and stares up at me. "It's not your fault," he says. "It's not either of our's fault. Cherian understands that. Jheghda does this on purpose to show off to the other Houses."

  I grit my teeth and shove the electrical panel into place. "Have you heard anything about our new anam?"

  Mikscn's silent for a few seconds before he replies. "Not a word, other than that he or she is arriving tonight."

  I nod and start replacing the armor panels. The adjunct just has to be able to get us home—we'll have an escort on the journey back to our home planet, no fighting required.

  It makes me sick some days, looking up into the severe parody of its face, knowing that another one of these days whatever kid they saddle us with is going to be carried out of the cockpit.

  Gods, Misa. I tried so hard to keep from drawing more power than she could give, but they came at our right flank and I had to pull power, I had to. She should never have been approved for space combat.

  Mikscn clears his throat. "Here, I'll take over. Go get something to eat."

  I make a face at that, but nod and start scaling down. "Damage isn't that bad," I say when I'm on the ground. "I got most of it fixed. Mostly we need to replace the plating, but that'll have to wait till we're home."

  Mikscn nods. "I'll run a diagnostic, see if there's anything our anam's going to need to look at."

  The Brudeah capitol planet, Eisen, caters generously to the Houses that are based off-world. House Bredan is old, expansive and wealthy—our home here is open and beautiful, all trees and sweet-smelling flowers, courtyards and fountains.

  I stride through the busy corridors, ignoring servants and nobles alike. They ignore me in turn—Mikscn and I are answerable only to Jheghda. I nod to a few pilots, and many stop to offer their condolences for burning out yet another anam. The souls of our adjuncts may be dispensable to the people that own us, but anams are precious to pilots. We literally cannot survive without them.

  In the mess hall, I finally relax. This place is for pilots and anams only, and no matter if I blame myself or Mikscn or Jheghda for the people we've killed, there is no judgment here.

  I get my food and make my way to one of the long tables in the middle of the room. The others part to let me sit down and I tuck into my food, only now realizing how hungry I am. Aiya, one of Mikscn and my mentors, strokes her fingers through her hair as she chats next to me and I let the quiet murmur
of conversation vibrate through my skin.

  Keito, Aiya's fellow pilot and Mikscn and my other mentor, leans over the table to me. "A Vrah'di family bought Misa," he says, and I can't help the smile that breaks out over my face.

  "Yeah?" I ask, and he nods. It's not a guarantee, but if Misa wakes up, she'll be free—the Vrah'di are part of the Hegemony, where all forms of slavery are illegal, and several of their Houses have gotten into the habit of buying pilots or anams who are disabled. Most anams eventually recover from the physical and psychic trauma of being overloaded, if they're given enough time. It's just they're rarely given that long to recover, and they're generally considered useless afterwards. This is the best possible thing that could come of this situation.

  "Thank you for telling me," I say, and he gives me a brief smile before his attention shifts to something behind me.

  "You're new," he says, and as one the table goes quiet as everyone turns to look at the man behind us.

  "Just got off the ship," the man says warily. There's a lunch tray in his hands and a backpack over his shoulder. He's tall, lean, and breathtakingly beautiful.

  "Did you," Aiya drawls. Keito and their anam, Micca, stiffen. Aiya smirks. "You must be Jye."

  The man, Jye, frowns. "Yeah."

  Aiya nudges my shoulder. "I believe this belongs to you."

  It's not clear which one of us she's talking to at first, but then it hits me like a fist to the gut.

  This is the next anam I'm going to get killed.

  It isn't until I'm in the suite that I share with Mikscn—and will share with Jye—that I realize that maybe bolting from the mess like an idiot wasn't the best way to greet our new anam. It isn't until I'm being sick into the toilet that I realize I don't care.

  I jump when cool hands smooth my hair away from my forehead, but Aiya doesn't acknowledge that she startled me. "It's okay, love," she whispers, and I realize I'm crying. "It's okay, it's not your fault," she murmurs as she wipes at my face with a wet towel. "Misa'll be okay, you only hurt her a little."

  "I'll get him killed," I choke out and she tsks and pulls me down to cradle my head in her lap.

  "You forget that me and my boys are free," she says as she pets my hair. Her pants under my cheek are quickly growing damp, but she doesn't seem to care. "Didn't I say I'd get you two a present?"

  I snort despite myself. I do forget, somehow, that Aiya and Keito and Micca don't belong to anyone but each other. "You said that two years ago," I croak and she chuckles.

  "It took a long time to find someone like him."

  I still. "He is? Jye's our present?"

  She strokes my cheek. "He's the most powerful anam I could find, equal to or stronger than your brother. I didn't know he was so pretty, though." She worms her free hand into her pocket. "Speaking of your brother…"

  She holds the wrinkled, crumpled note in front of my face and I make myself open it calmly.

  To my idiotic brothers,

  Don't you dare blame yourselves. It was Jheghda's fault as per usual, you're not allowed to be sad. And I'm doing fine, I promise. Just ask Aiya, I'm sure her and Baina gossip enough. I'd say our mentors shouldn't be allowed to talk to each other, but then we wouldn't be able to, so I guess that's the price we pay.

  I smile despite myself and scan the rest of the letter before tucking it safely away to share with Mikscn later.

  "How'd you convince Jheghda to buy us a stronger anam?" I ask.

  "I didn't," she says, petting her hand down my cheek. "I convinced Jye's House that a good diplomatic relationship with Bredan is something they want, and Jye volunteered to be a goodwill ambassador."

  I just breathe for a few seconds. "Jye is free?" I manage, and she hums a positive. "Totally free?"

  "Yup."

  I sit up and stare her in the eye. "We could—he could—we could convince him to buy Cherian and set him free, pay him back somehow."

  Something flits across her face too fast to read before her expression smoothes out and she smiles. "How about we get you boys introduced before we worry about all that."

  I nod, but I'm already thinking, planning ahead. Finally, a chance to free Cherian! I have to tell Mikscn. Aiya sighs as she follows me out of the room, but I ignore the sound, feeling lighter than I can remember. Finally, a chance to make things right.

  The next few hours are spent trying to track Jye down. He's been everywhere—medical, the quartermaster's, our suite—and by the time I give up and return to the adjunct, I'm ready for a nap. I climb up to where Mikscn's inspecting the panels in the adjunct's face and pass him Cherian's note.

  He smiles as he reads it aloud and I imagine that Cherian's talking to us. I can remember his voice, a little, and it's a nice fantasy.

  Mikscn passes the note back to me. "He sounds good."

  "Yeah." I tuck it back into my boot and stretch languidly. "I met our new anam. Kind of." I wince.

  Mikscn takes it in stride, though. "Yeah? Do tell."

  "He's pretty," I say before I can stop myself, and Mikscn laughs. "Aiya said he's powerful. Like, Cherian-powerful."

  Mikscn stares at the panel in his hands. "Good. That's … good."

  "You two are hard to find."

  I barely register drawing my gun, but Jye doesn't even flinch. He just stares up from where he's perched on the adjunct's wrist and waits in silence as I holster my gun.

  "I take it you're our new anam," Mikscn says as he replaces the panel.

  "You're twins," Jye murmurs. "No wonder you're so powerful. Your synchronization rates must be through the roof."

  "My name's Mikscn. This is Temsha," Mikscn says like Jye hadn't even spoken. "You two've already met?"

  "Not as such, no." His eyes flick between Mikscn and I. "My name's Jye."

  Mikscn nods and turns around to face us, dusting off his hands. "Nice to meet you, Jye. You'll have to forgive Temsha his lack of manners; he forgets to use his words sometimes."

  "Hi," I mumble, feeling my face heat. Not like Mikscn isn't affected too, he's just better at hiding it.

  Jye smiles and the expression isn't mean the way it is sometimes with other people. "Hi."

  *~*~*

  Breathe. In. Out.

  "Initializing sequence."

  Breathe. In. Out.

  "Sequence initialized. Reading trifecta."

  Breathe. In. Out.

  "Trifecta confirmed."

  Breathe. In. Out.

  "Pilots confirmed. Pilot synchronization initialized."

  Breathe. In. Out.

  "Anam confirmed. Coordination with anam initialized."

  Breathe. In. Out.

  "Pilot synchronization holding at 98%."

  "Coordination with anam holding at 90%."

  "Pilot synchronization dropping to 90%."

  "Coordination with anam dropping to 88%."

  Breathe. Be calm.

  "Pilot synchronization at 93%."

  "Pilot synchronization at 95%.

  "Pilot synchronization at 98%."

  "Pilot synchronization at 100%."

  "Coordination with anam at 95%."

  "Coordination with anam at 100%."

  "Adjunct operating at full capacity."

  "Adjunct holding at full capacity."

  "Sequence completed."

  "Ending sequence."

  I open my eyes as the adjunct's computer disengages. The HUD disappears behind my eyes as the cockpit opens. I let out a soft breath, trying to still Mikscn's excitement.

  "Beautiful," Aiya says from where she's sitting on the adjunct's knee. She's got a tablet in her lap, her fingers dancing over the screen. "I've never seen such a flawless sequence, even for you two."

  Mikscn crawls out of the cockpit first and I follow carefully, awareness singing through my veins. Aiya chatters away, and I push Mikscn's attention to her, desperately reining in our curiosity. But Mikscn won't be distracted and we both watch as Jye crawls out of his cockpit, located beneath ours, where the adjunct's armor is thickest
.

  His eyes show just a strip of blue around his blown pupils, and arousal hits us low in the gut. We let out a breath as he stares at us and watch intently as he licks his lips.

  "Oh. Huh." Aiya's voice cuts through the air and we turn to look at her. She's tapping her index finger over her lips. "You two never get worked up like that."

  She's right, and it cuts through us like a hot knife through butter. Mikscn thinks an apology, but it comes through my lips and we sigh.

  Aiya snorts. "I know you guys pride yourselves on your freakish ability to come back down in a couple of minutes with nothing but a hug and smile, but I'd like to remind you that that's abnormal."

  I frown as Mikscn nods and the discordant note pulls between us, stretching under our skin. I feel Mikscn's wince pull at my muscles.

  Jye runs his fingers down my spine and Mikscn laughs when I nearly jump through my skin. Mikscn's amusement pulls against the aggression pounding through my veins, the urge to shove Jye against the adjunct, but only for a second until my brother gets yanked along beside me.

  "You have a room," Aiya shouts. "Go away so I can run diagnostics."

  We scowl and Jye laughs and our irritation is lost as we turn to him. He tumbles off the adjunct's arm, a controlled fall and we follow, the instinct to chase jumbling up with the need to claim, slipping through each other's skin.

  Mikscn tries to slow us down, but Jye tilts his head and grins like he knows and we lunge forward. He leads us through the estate, a chase that pounds through marble halls with our heartbeat.

  He hesitates and we catch him, press him to the locked door and he fumbles with the keypad as we give in to the urge to touch. We snarl a little in frustration—two bodies, not one, too many hands—and fall forward as the door slides open.

  Jye laughs as we struggle to right ourselves and the sound sinks into our thoughts, cools some of the desperation. I breathe in deep and fall back as Mikscn presses forward, his hands working at Jye's belt. Jye's hands pet over Mikscn's shoulders and I watch, purposefully stifling everything that tastes like Mikscn inside me.

  Mikscn shoves Jye onto the bed and glances back at me with heavy-lidded eyes. I cross my arms and lean back against the door, my teeth gritted. Mikscn stares at me a heartbeat longer, asking permission, and I look at Jye waiting patiently on his back, his arms stretched above his head. Mikscn's lips quirk in a grin and he turns around and peels his shirt off before setting a knee on the bed, everything in him leaning forward, focused on Jye.