by Lynn Best
They seemed to be walking in a sort of access way above where the normal hallways were. This space was cramped and dark. She couldn’t get over the way Kahn’s body seemed to be emanating just enough light to see by. She remembered learning about bioluminescent fish in science class, and this seemed to be what was happening, though his light was a dim purple, not the fluorescent green she was used to. It lit his features, and it made him just as tragically handsome as she remembered from their first encounter.
They didn’t talk. Kahn seemed afraid someone might hear them and pinpoint their location. Steadily, he led her down switchbacks and around corners until he finally stopped and knelt, placing his hand on the floor. The surface dissolved, creating a hole. Kahn lowered himself, and then reached for her hand.
Charis stepped to the hole, and peered in. All she could see was stars. She gasped. “Kahn, get out of there. You’re going to float into space!”
How was she even breathing? This was insane. They were going to die.
But Kahn smiled. “It’s secure. Look.” As she watched from above, he pressed his hand to what appeared to be empty space, and it gave a ripple. He knocked his knuckles on it, and it gave a glass-like thunk, thunk sound. “See? Safe.”
Nervous, Charis said. “Do it again.”
He obliged, knocking all over the surface. Standing on it. Leaning back on what appeared to be nothing, but not falling. “Trust me. It’s safe.”
Still nervous, Charis let him draw her down. He held her as she placed her feet on what appeared to be nothing. She felt the solid surface of what she assumed was glass beneath her and circling around her like a globe, where one side was the ship’s hull and the rest was the clearest glass she’d ever seen.
“It’s called the eye,” he said in his rumbling voice. “Or at least, that’s what it translates to. I come here a lot. I like to be reminded of the infiniteness of space. That there’s more to life than my stupid brothers and their stupid fights.”
She held tight to Kahn’s waist, staring out. She remembered being in Chicago and going to the Sears Tower, of being too afraid to step on the glass that held people out over the city. She’d stayed pressed to the railing for safety, and regretted it later. She did not regret stepping out today.
Space was amazing. The dark vastness made her feel somehow tiny and secure. There was so much out there. So much they didn’t understand. And Kahn was right, it made all her problems seem tiny.
“This is beautiful,” she whispered, noticing their words echoed around the globe. Whispers were all that was needed to communicate here. She liked that idea.
Kahn pulled her until they were sitting on the glass above the expanse of stars, arms around each other.
“That is Sirius. And those form Orion. That’s his belt.”
Charis watched his finger trace constellations, amazed. “How can you know so much about my solar system when you aren’t even from here?”
He shrugged, his arm shifting behind her neck a little. “I like to know the stars. Naming them gives them a purpose in this vastness.”
She wondered what it was like to be the little brother of the most powerful man in this world. Rahan was the captain of the ship. Han was the future king. What was Kahn?
“What do you do? On your world, I mean, when you aren’t flying around and abducting human women?”
His face was a mask of confusion. “Do? I serve at the pleasure of our leader.”
“So Han tells you what to do?”
Kahn nodded. “Whatever he wants, I do. And his mother. Before that, it was Father.”
“Or?”
“Or what? I have no choice. I’m the third born. My mother was our father’s last wife. Whatever there was, I got the last of it. Not that I starved. There was always enough.”
“But it hurt,” she said. “It hurt to be last. It always does.”
She felt his thumb begin to rub circles on her bare arm.
“It hurt,” he repeated. “It still hurts.”
So that was why Kahn wanted her. To take something of his older brothers. It made sense, but it also made her feel used. Like a favorite toy the little brother snuck out of his big brother’s room when he wasn’t looking. And that was probably why Rahan had done what he had, too. If Han was the favorite, he always got seconds, never firsts.
“Is there…” she started, but wasn’t sure how to continue without giving too much away. “Is there some reason Han needs to have a mate?”
Kahn shifted beside her. “To be king and the rightful heir, he needs to secure a mate who will reproduce his bloodline. But Han has a terrible time with women.”
“You’re telling me,” she murmured.
“Right. So, if he can’t pick one and produce an heir, he’ll lose his crown to Rahan, who’s next in line.”
“That’s very archaic of you. I’d have thought a culture that can make all this,” she gestured to the ship behind them, “would have evolved more than that. Elected officials or a president or something.”
“There are things our bloodline can do that others cannot.” His voice hinted at something important.
“What things?” Charis asked.
He shifted. The line of conversation seemed to be making him uncomfortable. “Let’s just say our bloodline has stayed in charge for hundreds of our years. Thousands of Earth years.”
“That’s a long time,” Charis stated, watching the Earth below. This whole conversation was making her feel tired and confused. She wanted to tell Kahn she didn’t want to mate with Han. She didn’t want to mate with anyone, really. But she didn’t want to risk offending him or wrecking this beautiful moment of peace in an otherwise completely exhausting stream of events.
In the warm embrace of Kahn, his fingers circling her skin, she got very drowsy. She didn’t know when the last time was she’d slept. She had no concept of time here in space, but it felt like ages since she’d been in her bed last. Her head lolled against Kahn’s massive shoulder. His gentle breathing was soothing.
She slept.
***
She woke to someone gently brushing the hair away from her face.
“Charis, it’s time to go.”
“Go?” She blinked drowsily.
Kahn was leaning over her, gently tugging strands of hair away from her face and looking at her fondly. She smiled. “Why do we have to go?”
“Han is looking for you. And me.” He sighed deeply.
She sat up. “Will he be mad? Will he lock you up again?”
“Not if he can’t find me,” Kahn said darkly. “But you have to go. He won’t stop looking for me if I have you.”
She felt sick with that bottomless feeling in her stomach again. The sleep had really helped, but now she felt groggy and cotton-headed. And the thought of going back to Han made her even less inclined to get up.
But Kahn was above her, holding out his hand to help her up. And she knew if she stayed here, or went somewhere else with him, she put him in danger. And she’d already done that once.
She took his strong hand. He helped her up easily, and then opened the smooth hull by pressing his hand to it again. In the dark closed space, she turned to him. Because he had to hunch over, his face was much closer to her than she’d expected. She looked into his deep brown eyes.
“When will I see you again?”
He reached out, and ran a hand down her cheek tenderly. “Hopefully soon, but I can’t promise anything. He’ll be angry we did this.”
“It’s my fault,” she said, dropping her eyes.
His thumb and forefinger gently gripped her chin, and then lifted it until she was facing him again. He was so breathtakingly handsome. “None of this is your fault. Okay? Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself. Find a way to do what it is that will make you happy, even if it means leaving this ship.” He said the last words with a tinge of regret in his voice that made her insides spin. Then he tilted his head, and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss was electric. His lips were
so soft, and his mouth tasted like summer rain. Charis folded into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he drew her body to his. She didn’t know how long she kissed him like that, but when he pulled away, they were both breathless.
“Charis,” he said, running his hand down her hair. “What you do to me.”
She blushed.
“Now go. He’s coming. Walk down this hallway and take a right. You’ll see the opening when you get to it.”
She watched him walk away, feeling a strong urge to run after him. But then, she’d risk Han’s wrath. The last thing she wanted was Kahn back in a jail cell, or worse.
Slowly, she plodded down the hall and took the right. There at the end of the hall was a shaft of light. When she got to it, she saw the opening into the hallway below her.
Carefully, she got to the edge of the hole and lowered her bottom half. Then she dropped until only her hands were gripping the upper lip. With an inhale, she let go, feet hitting the floor. She felt the shockwave in her knees, wincing.
When she stood, she felt the hand circle her bicep. Then she was yanked into a room.
Startled, she looked up to see Bram.
And he was furious.
“Where have you been?” he hissed. His hair was mussed, and there were bags under his eyes.
“I… I went for a walk.”
“Lies.” He gripped her arm hard. Suddenly, Charis was afraid. “You ran off with Rahan or Kahn or whomever. By all the blessed suns, I swear if we had known we had picked up such a slut—”
“Hey!” she interjected. “Where I come from, slut-shaming is not considered cool.”
He gave her a dark look. “You need to stop running off. Rahan and Kahn will bring you nothing but trouble.”
“Oh, and Han is so great? If he’s not ignoring me, he’s insulting me. He clearly despises me, Bram, so just send me home. This is all just a waste of everyone’s time.”
He shook his head. “We cannot send you home.”
“Why? Because Han and I have some ‘connection’? I assure you, we don’t.”
“Do you not feel it?” Bram asked. “When he touches you, do you not feel the energy?”
The simple answer was yes, but the rest of it was complicated. When she touched Han, the most amazing feeling ran through her veins, making her feel the most pleasure she’d ever experienced. But then, he was always batting her hand away like she was poison.
She shook her head. “There’s nothing between Han and me.”
“Yet,” Bram added. He bent down, and then snapped something around her ankle.
“Hey!” She reached down, feeling the smooth, hard material that fit over her skin like a glove. It pulsed and glowed. “What is this? Take it off.”
“You will wear this for the duration of your stay. It will tell me your location no matter where you are. It will also keep you from accessing places on the ship where you are forbidden to go.”
“A tether. You’ve given me a tether.” Charis seethed. “This is not fair, Bram.”
“What is not fair is how you keep running off with Han’s brothers. How do you think he is going to feel about you when you keep doing it—?”
“I’m not doing it,” she interrupted.
“Well, whatever it is you are doing, how do you think it makes Han feel?”
“Indifferent,” she answered. “Because, like I said before, he hates me.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Bram gave another exasperated sigh. “Just try. Please. For all our sakes. Don’t you think the best outcome would be that the two of you fall madly in love and live happily ever after?”
Charis made a face. She couldn’t imagine any scenario where that would be true. Now with Kahn or Rahan, maybe. They each had their own special charms.
“Well, you are going to try because if you don’t get him to kiss you in two days, you are not going home. You are going to what you would refer to as a work camp on our planet. Kiss your old life goodbye.”
She jerked her head up to see if he was joking, but his face was stone. “You can’t imprison me.”
“Who says I cannot?” It was Bram’s turn to cross his arms. “Our first deal was not properly motivating you, so let us hope this will.”
He pressed his hand to the wall beside them, and suddenly, it turned into a type of screen displaying the image of a dusty, windblown landscape. It looked like the pictures she’d seen of farmers during the dustbowl. Men and women with their backs bent like canes, hunched over, sick. Weak-looking crops bowed as the dust swirled around them and whipped their hair back, making their faces and their clothes all a dusty brown. The bandannas over their faces seemed to do little to protect them.
A miserable life. A short life.
“This will be you.” He tapped the wall where the woman was, clutching a shawl to her shoulders as the wind tried to tear it away. Her hair was gray and dirty. Her eyes haunted. “Is this what you want?”
“You can’t,” she repeated, feeling cold. “Where are these people?”
Bram lifted his hand, and the screen went blank. “Pray you do not find out where they are.”
“They’re people. You can’t just keep them.” She felt tears wetting her eyes. Those poor people. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers. Their families probably thought they were dead.
Bram gripped her arm, ripping her away from her thoughts. “Three days,” he hissed. “He kisses you, or you spend your life wishing he had.”
Bram dropped her arm and straightened his T-shirt. “His room is down the hall. He’s there waiting for you.” Bram stared at her until she started moving. Slowly, she shuffled away. She couldn’t get the image of those poor people out of her mind. Did they fall in the fields never to get up, the dust covering their bodies until there was nothing left, nothing at all?
CHAPTER TEN
When she got to Han’s room, he was indeed waiting for her.
Han stood in the entryway, his arms crossed over his chest, looking like a father waiting for his irresponsible daughter returning hours after her curfew. She knew she should care, but she didn’t. It all felt so hopeless. She just wanted to lay down and go to sleep.
“Where have you been?” he asked, playing the part.
She did her best to play hers. “None of your business.” A small, quiet voice chided her. She had three days to woo him. But a louder part responded there was no point. She and Han were the worst match ever made.
He moved to block her as she tried to get past him. “Where is Kahn?”
She looked up then. Mad. “Leave him alone. He’s suffered enough at your hand.”
His brow furrowed. “How do you know what he’s suffered?”
She glared, attempting to walk around him. Han moved again to block her.
“I’m tired. Can we not do this?”
He stayed where he was, arms over his broad chest. “You need to understand something. Kahn is not good for you.”
The more he talked, the angrier she grew. “He’s your brother, and you had him jailed. How could you?”
“He took you from here.”
“Oh, and you just can’t stand that, can you? You’re the big brother, so you have to have everything, right? Well, didn’t anyone ever teach you to share?”
He looked at her with puzzlement on his face. “You want me to share you with Kahn?”
“No!” She blushed. “That is not what I meant.”
He paused for a while before saying. “You stay away from Kahn. And Rahan. That’s an order.”
She laughed mirthlessly, giving a fake solute. “Aye, aye, Captain. Whatever you and your minion, Bram, say.” She pointed to her ankle tether. “I guess I’m a prisoner. I get to come and go whenever you say I do. So can I use the goddammed bathroom now, sir?”
He turned away from her narrowed-eyed stare. “Do whatever you want.”
His voice was complacent, frustrated, but she didn’t care. She stormed around him, searching the rooms until she found one that had
to be the bathroom, and then used her hand to close the door. Once she was alone, she slid down the wall, too angry to cry.
Impossible. This whole situation was impossible. Charis buried her head in her knees. It was then the tears came.
***
Hours later, when she stopped feeling sorry for herself, Charis walked out into the main room, not sure what she’d find. Han had been silent the whole time, and there was no noise from the hall. None of the brothers came to rescue her. She was on her own.
Puffy-eyed and sulky, she meandered down the hallway, surprise breaking through the irritation when she stumbled upon a bench near the hallway she didn’t remember seeing before. On it was a change of clothing, yoga-type pants and a scoop-neck white T-shirt. She was still in the blue evening gown, though it was rumpled and stained from all her escapades. Picking up the soft fabric, she found a dark corner and changed.
As she moved deeper into Han’s suite, she realized the floor plan had changed.
A stately hall had replaced the pool, resembling a scene from Downton Abbey. The walls were decorated with ornately carved wood and old oil paintings of long-dead people. A fireplace flickered in the corner, heat emanating from it. A long table was expertly decorated with fine china, polished silver, and linen napkins. Charis spied roast duck, dusky grapes, and a decorative cake with folds of white and brown meringue that she suspected was a baked Alaska, although she’d never tried one.
Her mouth watered.
A throat cleared, the sound coming from a chair facing the fire. Han was tucked inside the leather club chair. He held a book he promptly snapped shut. Standing, he glanced her way before diverting his eyes.
“If you’re hungry…” He gestured toward the set table, and then started to leave the room.
“Wait,” she called.
He stopped, but didn’t look at her.
“Aren’t you… hungry?”
Big shoulders shrugged. She watched his fingers dig into the book he was holding. How he must despise her.
“Do you want to…? I mean, if you don’t, it’s okay, but…” She was a mess. Biting her lip, she sighed and pushed through. “Do you want to eat with me?”