Shrugging, Vayne answered, “I expect the amount of mistrust on either side led to betrayal. Or perhaps they saw the way the war was turning. More likely, those who gave the orders for genetic homicide were a small faction and acted without the agreement of all. I have located a few already, but regrettably they didn’t survive to meet with me and…share the other conspirators’ names.”
“A small faction. Which is why you didn’t hold them all responsible. All humans and their allies.” Her grudging respect grew.
“We don’t destroy the innocent, Neira. We pride ourselves on seeing the forest for the trees, as your species has said. I only wish to find those remaining monsters responsible. Those still alive.” He spoke with no inflection, and his assertion was more powerful as a result. It left no doubt as to the fate of those people.
“The computer suggests a scenario that one or all of those individuals is aware of my…time with Baraith, and were in touch with him while I was there. They are concerned about what I might know.” She figured she might as well sum it up. “That explains the in-depth probing by the military of my time in captivity, then. Although not the efforts to help me suppress the trauma.”
“Perhaps they believed if you couldn’t recall anything of significance despite their efforts, then ensuring you kept it buried was in their best interests. But it would have worked at cross purposes. They weren’t concerned about your best interest.”
It was nothing different than the conclusion she’d come to, and Neira nodded. “Petrov probably knew,” she mused, “and it came out. So he was put down. I could have met the same fate if not for my contacts and friends. It was Alexi’s death by his own military that granted me escape. They feared I’d out them.”
“Politicians and those high up in the military are nothing if not strategists, Neira. Someone called in those favors, and to be fair, your superiors could easily have been misled. Told something along the lines of national security. Soldiers follow orders, especially from politicians.”
“As the Shadalla warriors follow yours. But you’ve been a soldier. And they know this, so obeying you can be done with a clear conscience.”
Vayne stilled, and those turquoise eyes filled with wonder as his features softened. “Your understanding is the highest compliment, my love.”
They stared at one another while Neira strove to resist the lure of that honesty and the endearment. Vayne blinked and spoiled the moment, to her relief. “One would wonder if you mightn’t have met with an accident on the mining colony, if not on the way there.”
She stood and paced in the small area, trying to ignore his size and strength, knowing he would hold her close and ease her angst if she allowed it. In fact, she was both surprised and disappointed he hadn’t made the attempt. “Toya. Was she a spy? Or my assassin?”
Moving with that eerie quickness and silence, he wrapped her up, ignoring her pathetic attempt to resist. Contrary was her middle name. That, or conflicted. “It is pure conjuncture, little warrior. But it does follow.”
When he lifted her and carried her to the bunk, she didn’t protest. He made quick work of stripping off her garment and sliding her between the covers. She became aware of how chilled she’d been again, cold to her inner core until Vayne had held her. The warmth was pervasive and she tingled, all thoughts and concerns about what was to come banished, at least for the time being. More of Vayne’s doing, no doubt, but she welcomed it.
“You’ve been so brave for so long, my little warrior. It has distracted you from what you need—and deserve.” He slid in beside her, also nude, instructing the lights to dim, and formed a heated bulwark against the universe. “Will you trust me, Neira? To plumb your memories and keep you safe through your recollection?”
She retained enough composure to qualify her response. “On this I’ll trust you.”
Vayne smiled against her hair, or so it seemed. “Ah, so difficult. All right, agreed. On this.”
It might have been a form of hypnosis, and one that would be far better received in certain circles than the more typical approaches. Neira allowed her body to relax against Vayne’s and listened to his voice as he suggested, aware her breathing was becoming synchronized to his. Their hearts beat closely, again with a faint echo, like a stutter step, and she meandered down pathways deep in her psyche she never thought—or wanted—to walk again. In spirit-saving safety. All of those horrible hours spent under Baraith’s torment unfolded, inch by excruciating inch. Except, held in Vayne’s thrall, she viewed it almost dispassionately, if with a certain sadness, as she shared with him. The memories flowed over her, slowing when others entered the room or called Baraith away, individuals close by… She could now pluck out names, and language and even faces, no longer clouded by the agony she and Alexi Petrov shared. The latter memory wrenched her heart sideways, the way she’d failed her trooper.
“Shh. You did your best.” Vayne rocked her, and Neira became aware of the tears sliding down her face.
“I know. But Petrov was so young, yet so male. Protective. And our roles—”
“Were reversed. Your position was untenable, Neira. So brave for so long, you needn’t carry that burden. I’ll take it from you—there is no need for you to strain beneath it, be forever in control,” he crooned.
Oh, how she wanted to believe him and find the courage to seek more than survival. She’d felt the tears in her psyche knit and heal beneath his benevolence and tender care and anything seemed possible. Vicky’s blissful countenance swam behind her closed eyelids and sudden terror made her flounder and desperately struggle in Vayne’s arms.
“Light!” she cried, and Vayne immediately echoed her demand. The room burst into illumination. Vayne blinked against it and frowned into her face.
“What’s wrong?”
Putting as much distance between them as possible, a ludicrous effort, seeing as her body was fully aware of his proximity and its own potential, Neira called upon her military training to school her brain. She couldn’t become Vicky and lose herself. “Who did I give you? Did you recognize the names?”
Vayne didn’t appreciably relax his hold, but he backed off his intensity and she shored up her withered defenses. Working with him out of necessity had wreaked havoc on her determination to reject his intention to bond with her. Trust him, indeed, on this one thing. It was like nibbling on a piece of dark chocolate when the entire box sat temptingly within reach. Bad, bad libido.
With a sigh, he searched her features, lifting one shoulder as he seemed to recognize her determination not to allow him any liberties. “I recognized several names you spoke, Neira. A few I’ve already taken action against. But it is difficult to judge whether the rest were shared within the context of the rout of the Juxtant, or otherwise, and I require evidence. Baraith would have received updates of the last stands, hence the use of those names, perhaps, but there is a chance he would also have been continuing to forge and sustain alliances. He was always one to plan ahead, and he would never plan to surrender. So it would stand to reason he’d remain in contact with those he was engaged in for other nefarious purposes.
“The descriptions will be catalogued and compared for evidentiary purposes. It won’t take long. And then we shall see. I have reached out to my hunters of both Baraith and those who perpetrated the unconscionable act on our species, so your additional pieces of that puzzle will be of help.”
The side of Vayne she’d barely glimpsed before—the one also written about during the earlier war—was suddenly apparent. If she squinted she’d see the similarities to the Juxtant cousins he disparaged and disdained, and she knew there would be no mercy afforded to either her tormentor or those cowards who’d used genetic warfare, pinpointing the Shadalla women and children. That lack of mercy didn’t bother her at all.
He slipped out of the bunk and she willed her eyes to look elsewhere, anyplace but at his fine ass and broad, muscled back. Had he really been intent on stealing her control? Or merely sharing her burdens? Neira
was back to feeling conflicted and very concerned Vayne was wearing her down. And she felt abandoned yet desperate to make sense of things.
After entering something on the data display, he touched a corner with his thumb. “There. It’s done.”
“It seems strange that of all women, all Home World women, you would come across me.” It was like she had no will of her own. Rather than avoid any conversation about fate as she’d planned, she had to go put it right out there. Damn it. It certainly didn’t help that they were both nude. “And that I miraculously would be one of your chosen and perhaps possess the means for you to obtain your ultimate revenge.”
Vayne stilled in the same way he’d done when she’d last spoken her mind. It was a tell of sorts, and she filed it away. He then smiled, such a wide, genuine smile she nearly smiled back. But she didn’t, because just as quickly his expression took on a resigned cast. She wanted to look away, away from what was surely hurt, and his naked body should have been the distraction, but she couldn’t do it. This couldn’t be resolved by lust.
“What?” she demanded instead.
“Do you think this is a conspiracy, then? Something cleverly constructed with the timing so exact and all the players fulfilling their tasks so perfectly? I suppose it could happen. I have already established my belief in fate. But a conspiracy must feel more likely to you than trusting in the idea we are destined for one another, and we crossed paths to complete the circle. And that you have developed feelings for me as I have for you. I ascribe to the latter.”
“I’m not the only one for you,” she said stubbornly. “You might have waylaid another transport, raided an outpost and spied your chosen.”
A curious look flitted over his face and she tried to interpret it, for it seemed important that she do so. Was that fear she saw? Impossible. His next comment was going to have a terrible impact. She could feel it.
“I’ve indeed botched this, haven’t I? Right from the beginning. And your conspiracy theory has only strengthened your resolve while I believe in what was meant to be. That we were destined.” He paced away from her and ran a hand through his hair, showing her a certain discomfiture that was sadly disturbing. “I thought to use the influence of the Shadalla pheromones to seduce you, make you mine and elicit your surrender. Because I am impossibly drawn to you and I do not lie about how my feelings have developed into…more. And despite how effectively you resist, there is something between us, quite separate from my…advantage. But it can never be simple, at least not for me.”
The laugh he then gave was self-deprecating. Neira made enough of those sounds in her life to know, and she peered at him, puzzled. She found she didn’t want to ask, but the words slipped past her lips anyhow. “I don’t follow.”
“There is a holding period, a grace period, if you will. It allows our chosen to acclimatize and settle within the male’s sphere, aided by the pheromones, and give consent. I failed to mention that part, for fear you would withhold consent. I sensed that about you, and it follows, because you aren’t Shadalla and haven’t been raised since childhood to understand what that entails. You are the only chosen, in my experience, who has the wherewithal to resist. And I believe I now understand.” He squared his shoulders and she followed the play of muscle across his torso, aware she might not wish to hear what he had to say next.
“I cannot have it both ways. Destiny—fate—has seen fit to put you in my path, and because of this I will soon have the last of those responsible for the planned extinction of my people. But fate is also cruel, and I am obviously not meant to have you as my lifemate. Perhaps because by being the sovereign sacrifices must always be made. Revenge has become an empty alternative but it appears it is all I will have.” Vayne finished shrugging into his tunic, having stepped into his leggings, and he moved to the door. “Rest, Neira. I will return when I have news.”
She snapped her mouth shut, aware she’d been staring after him in shock, and warred with such a sense of loss as to hollow out her insides. His parting speech should have reeked of self-pity, like a child denied a coveted toy. But instead, it was spoken quite matter-of-factly, the pain it hid barely leaking through. But she felt it deeply and wished for him to return so she could soothe him. Her body missed him equally.
No amount of rearranging the bedclothes, none of her efforts to swaddle herself like a small child, was enough to ward off the head-to-toe chill that swept over her. She needed Vayne for that, as she knew he needed her. She’d suffered the ague as a young teen and thought she might die from it, regardless of the medicines available then, even to the poor, and this hurt far worse. The body might not recall pain despite the mind’s ability to remind one of the experience and warn against it, but Neira had no difficulty in contrasting the two. She shivered and shook and suffered against the ache in silence, the only thing she could master against it. If the pheromones he spoke of weren’t having the anticipated impact on her, what was? A four letter word spelled out across her whirling thoughts and she automatically erased it. But the faded outline remained.
****
Vayne made his way to the bridge, pretending he wasn’t running from Neira and refusing to think about anything other than completing the task at hand. He’d spoken from his hearts, handed them to her without thought, and he’d never been so discomfited. But there was the matter of getting home safe, so he needed to focus, though he suspected that if he cut the serpent’s head off, its tail would shortly determine the lack of direction and fly back home.
“Sir.” Leric was back at his post. His exec appeared weary—and extremely happy. The bridge crew looked pained and kept their distance. Vayne, too, felt the lack and it was like a whisper of the lash across his senses. He envied the other man fiercely and took a breath to let it go.
“Anything from our hunters?”
“Not yet. But soon. How is your chosen? That information she recalled was priceless.” Leric didn’t inquire how Neira came to have that data, and Vayne wasn’t about to share. The other man knew about the medical emergency of earlier and was a master at putting things together but would never voice his findings unless he believed them to be necessary. It was what made him the best man for the job and an officer Vayne could not imagine doing without.
“She’s fine. And the word from Nibiru?”
A quick blink was the only indication Leric had noted Vayne’s brusque reply. “Jurlek advises the message has been sent. We will wait at the rendezvous point. A good choice, by the way.”
Leric had a way of stating the facts without fanfare or being obsequious and there was no man he’d rather have by his side when it came to traveling through space, either. He opened his wound. “How is your bride, Leric?”
His exec visibly swelled. “She is well. All is well. I had no idea of the wonder of bonding, Sovereign. I feel so fortunate.”
“And Eltrast? Jurlek? What of them?”
“I believe they are progressing in the courtship. Somewhat slower.” Leric’s tone was tinged with pride at being first, and Vayne nearly smiled despite a pang in his chest.
“And what if the women had been aware of our…extra persuasion, Leric? Might the courtships have gone so smoothly?” He was aware he was challenging a dictate he’d put in place, and rubbing salt into that very raw personal wound, but it was both a ruler’s prerogative and duty in regard to the former. As for the latter, perhaps he longed for the role of martyr. He pushed the thought aside. Pitiful.
Leric opened his mouth and shut it, his forehead creasing, and he looked away from Vayne, veiling his features. When he again faced him, his face was guileless. Perhaps Vayne had imagined that his exec was deliberately hiding something from him. “I believe others knowing how the Shadalla pursue our chosen would deem it overly tenacious and perhaps perceive it as stacking the deck to our advantage, but we would convince our brides regardless. And time has been of the essence, sir.” His exec used another Earth euphemism. “Desperate times require desperate measures.”
That simple, if vague, assessment should have reassured Vayne but he pressured Leric harder. “And if your Victoria learns you seduced her and she was, essentially, powerless to resist?”
Leric shook his head. Emphatically. “She is my chosen. And my only. She might complete me, but I have committed my hearts. And I owe her more than I can say. Lifemate holds true for all except those who were bonded through genetic manipulation.” The other man paled and flinched. “I apologize, Sovereign. I am deeply sorry. I was thoughtless. Please blame it on my recent bonding.”
“No, Leric. You were being honest and it’s been a long time since Asula faded. I take no offense.”
His exec clearly wished to speak further but maintained his silence, likely fearing another misstep. Vayne cursed himself under his breath. He’d been given an unheard of second chance and in his arrogance had failed to consider the variables. All Earth women were different and his chosen was possibly the most complex female he’d ever had occasion to meet. It was him who was lacking and now courted failure. How he wished she had turned to him, and not away.
“Sir?”
“What is it, Leric?”
His exec appeared to choose his words carefully. “Perhaps consideration can be given to finding other chosen in different ways once your quest is satisfied and the Juxtant are finished. I could envision contingents visiting the Home World and its colonies once our security is beyond reproach. Humans visiting our planet. That would provide opportunities and we would perhaps not need to hide our lack of procreative options. Because we both know how compatible our species are. Humans could appreciate what we have to offer. We need not speak of our desperation, but suggest a joining of our species in the interest of maintaining peace.”
Vanquished Page 12