Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series)

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Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series) Page 16

by Cade, Cathryn


  But even if Creed didn’t understand, she still owed him the truth. She couldn’t make love to him again until she opened up all the way, was honest with him. And be damned to Logan Stark. She and Daanel were on Frontiera. They could make their own way without any help if they had to.

  When her comlink chimed, she started, then sank back in her chair, hand over her heart. Which clenched when she saw who the link was from. Daanel. Oh, goddess, now she had to gear herself up to tell him the truth as well. And hope he didn’t hate her for deceiving him so thoroughly.

  As it turned out, she didn’t need to work up the courage to tell him.

  His holovid image sprang up over her desk. When she greeted him with a tentative smile, her heart sank like a stone as her cousin gave her a look she’d never received from him—disappointment and anger.

  “Taary, I know you’re on Frontiera,” he said. “And I know where you are. I just don’t know why. What is going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head so hard her hair flew out around her face. “No, I’m safe, I’m fine.”

  “Then what are you doing?” His face was suffused with color, his hands flying out in a gesture of distress. “You’re supposed to be on Serpentia, shopping. Or so I thought.”

  She winced. “I’m sorry. I—the whole thing was a lie, D. I’m sorry.”

  “But why?”

  “I did it to save you,” she blurted. “To save us.” Then she clapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. He was gazing at her in horror.

  “Taara,” he whispered. “What? What have you done?”

  She closed her eyes, but hot tears leaked out. “I made a bargain with someone,” she managed around the lump in her throat. “He—he agreed to help us get here, to start over.”

  “Logan Stark,” Daanel said flatly.

  “How did you know?”

  He shook his head, looking as sick as she felt. “Never mind that. What—what did he want you to do?”

  “Oh, nothing horrible.” Her voice shook, and she waved her hands in the air, indicating the bedroom around her and her own body, clothed in Creed’s favorite dress, the one with a bodice of diaphanous yellow lace. “He ... I went to him for help, you know. And I thought he’d do it because we’re Kiri’s friends. But he said if I wanted his help, I had to—to come here and ... and seduce his brother.”

  Daanel lost it. He let out a hiss of pure rage, his eyes slitted like a viper about to strike. “What? That pit viper! I’ll kill Logan Stark if it’s the last thing I do. With my dying breath I’ll take him out.”

  Taara shook her head frantically. “No, no, Daanel, you don’t understand. I ... I came because he made me, but it’s not that bad—”

  “It’s not that bad?” he yelled, bending toward her from the waist. “He forced you to fuck his brother and it’s not that bad?”

  “Daanel, stop,” she called. “Please, calm down. I came because I wanted to get us here to Frontiera. I chose this—it’s not like he held a laser to my head.”

  “No, he just held our safety and well-being to your head instead,” he cut in.

  Taara shrugged. There was that. “Anyway, I came for us, but then I ... I stayed for him. For Creed.” She smiled tremulously. “Oh, Daanel, he’s a good man. He’s strong, but he has a kind of boyishness about him. He’s ... I care about him.”

  He blinked. “And does he … care about you? Or is he like his brother, caring only for power and wealth? Because if so, you are out of your mind.”

  She shook her head. “He’s not like that at all. He doesn’t know about my deal with Stark.”

  Daanel’s brows flew up. “He doesn’t know? What is he, a simpleton?”

  “No,” she snapped. “How could he, when no one told him?”

  She winced as Daanel regarded her, brows still up. “Yes, I’ve been lying to him too. I owe him an apology just as much as I do you.”

  Daanel snorted. “Oh, I hardly think you owe him anything. After all, you’ve been—” he gave her a look that encompassed what she’d been doing for Creed. “And why would he be angry if he finds out you’re not a whore?”

  “Because,” she said around the painful lump in her throat, “that makes me a liar.”

  He nodded. “True. Taara, I love you. But if you ever do anything like this again—lie to me, try to save me in such a reckless, twisted way, without consulting me first, so I can forbid it and tie you to a chair as well—I will never speak to you again. Are we clear on this?”

  She nodded, his image blurring as her eyes filled with tears. “We’re clear. Do you forgive me, D?”

  But instead of huffing one of his trademark sighs, her cousin wiped away tears of his own. “I don’t know, Taary,” he muttered. “You didn’t trust me to be your partner. You just flew off to save me, without asking if that’s what I wanted too. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  “Oh, goddess,” Taara managed, her throat thick with the tears that now spilled down her face. “I’m sorry. I won’t … ask again. You can decide if and when.”

  “Oh, stop,” Daanel snapped. “We’re not done with this, but it can wait. Once you’re safely back here, we’ll talk more. Now how do we get you here?”

  She swiped her wet cheeks. “Funny, when you linked me, I was just nerving myself up to confess to Creed and you. So, I have to speak with him and … you know, see what he wants to do. I’ll link you back later, okay?” Although now she was even more afraid to tell him. If Daanel was this angry, how much more furious was Creed going to be?

  Daanel frowned. “I don’t like this. You’re there at his mercy.”

  She shook her head, smiling through her tears. Rushing to reassure him even through her own fear.”He’s not like that, D. Honestly he’s not. In fact, he’s so controlled, his people call him ‘The Ice Man’. He may be angry, but if anything he’ll just tell me to pack my bags and hop the next supply transport.”

  “A conclusion devoutly wished for,” Daanel muttered. “Listen, Tony—my new friend—knows this Creed. He says he’s a good guy, so … I guess I have to believe the two of you. But link me later. Promise?”

  “Promise.” She blew him a kiss and he returned it.

  Taara broke the link, and then rose from her chair. “Oh, goddess.” That had been so hard. But she was so relieved it was done—wasn’t she? She couldn’t remember Daanel ever being truly angry with her. It was the worst.

  Or maybe not, because now she had to tell Creed.

  * * *

  It was so worse than she could have imagined.

  Creed was in his study. He’d clearly just showerdried and shaved, his skin gleaming, his hair still damp. He wore one of his shirts that showed off his physique, this one blue, with a pair of gray knit drawstring pants. When he saw her, his eyes lit up, his mouth curved in that little smile she loved, and he rose from his chair.

  Then concern darkened his eyes. “You’ve been crying,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  She tried to smile at him as she walked to stand before his desk. “Creed, I have something to tell you.” Her voice shook. And she had to swallow hard to keep from choking on her words, but she kept going.

  When she was finished, he rose to stand facing her across the gleaming expanse of his desk. His face was like pale stone, but his eyes blazed.

  “So you’re here—you did this because you were forced to?”

  “No.” She lifted her hands to him, shook her head again, a strand of hair sticking to her wet cheek. “No, Creed, it’s not how it sounds. I—”

  He shook his head, cutting her off without a word. He stared at her for a moment as if he was struggling to process what she’d told him. “And everything we did— you were doing it for another man?”

  At this, Taara hurried around the desk toward him, her hands outstretched in entreaty. “Oh, no—not like that. He’s my cousin. Like a brother to me. The only family I have left in the universe.”

  Creed took on
e step back, and she stopped short of touching him, her hands curling into fists.

  “Well, you’re good,” he said, still in that eerily calm voice. “Gotta give you that. You had me believing you. And all the time, you’re not a pro, you’re just a … victim. Of my brother, the mighty Logan Stark. And of me.”

  “I’m not a victim,” Taara cried. “Creed, I want to be here. I—”

  His hand lifted and she stopped talking again. He gazed down at her, his face pale under his tan. “But see, I don’t know what I can believe now,” he said. “I’m sorry this was done to you. Sorry you felt you had to go this far to save yourself and your … cousin.”

  Taara shook her head frantically. “No, Creed, listen to me. I want to be here. I—I care about you. I’ve enjoyed everything we do together.”

  His jaw tightened and she watched in horror as his fists clenched, his whole body tensing so that his muscles stood out in ridges.

  “Do you have any idea what it does to me,” he said hoarsely. “To hear you stand there and say that to me, and not be able to trust that it’s true? I get it, Taara. I get that it was life and death, that you had to get out of there, and this is a great world for a new start. I’m glad you made it. But I do not like being the price you had to pay.”

  She gasped, not daring to reach out to him. Fury rolled off of him in waves so fierce she felt buffeted although he made no move toward her. He turned away as if he could no longer bear to look at her.

  “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. I’ll, ah … have a cruiser pick you up as soon as possible,” he went on. “They’ll take you wherever you want to go. Make sure you’re safe. And I’ll make sure you get your credit, everything Stark promised you.”

  Turning, he stalked away. Taking her heart with him, and her budding dreams.

  “No,” she said. “No!” She ran after him.

  He strode swiftly through his house. Taara ran to keep up with him. When he walked into the sitting room, she followed him, then stopped short, alarm crawling over her skin. He was staring at the big leather sofa, where they’d made love. As if it were the scene of a crime in which he’d participated.

  “Creed?” she breathed, her heart pounding with sickening force. “Please, talk to me.”

  She took a step toward him.

  “Creed?” This time her voice held pleading, she could hear it, but what the hells, she couldn’t stand another sec of this weird, heavy silence that emanated from him.

  Then he looked at her and she rocked back. His gaze was tortured.

  “You say my name like that, I almost believe you mean it,” he said. “I did believe you.”

  “I ... I do mean it,” she managed. His gaze flicked down, then back up, and she realized she’d wrapped her arms round herself. She couldn’t bring herself to move them, braced. “I can explain.”

  “You can explain?” he went on, in that cold, flat voice. “That you’re not who you said you are? That far from being a woman who fucks because she likes it, makes her living at it, you had to be blackmailed into coming here to my bed? That every time I touched you, I was forcing you—making you a victim.”

  “No!”

  That’s when he lost it. “And do you know—” he went on, his voice rising to a roar, his face livid again, “that I was once a victim like that, and so when I know that I made one of you, it makes me want to rip my own cock off? It makes me want to puke until I’m empty of all the guilt.”

  He broke off, shuddering, and closed his eyes. For a moment, the only sound was his harsh, shuddering breaths and the pounding of her heart. Shock reverberated through her, and horror, which morphed swiftly into compassion so strong it lent her strength when she had none left.

  “Oh, Creed, “ she whispered. “Oh, sweetheart.”

  She moved forward, as carefully as if he were a swaying cobra, and slipped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest and holding him close. “Tell me,” she begged. “Tell me.”

  He stood, his arms hanging, swaying a little as if only she held him up. “You want to know my first memory? Standing with some other little kids, boys and girls. Maybe four years old. And a monster in human form shoved his cock in my mouth and made me take it. And told us that was what we were all gonna do, to stay alive.”

  Taara shuddered, hanging on to him. She wept, but did it silently so he would go on talking.

  “Then … he put us out on the street, and that’s where Joran found me. He got Logan. They took us to a crèche. But I wouldn’t let go of Joran, so he asked Logan to take me home, just for the night. He made me feel safe, because he was still a kid too. Then they just … kept me. Took a while before I realized Logan wasn’t going to do that to me in exchange for food and shelter.”

  He moved, lifting his hands to hold her. He smoothed his hand down her back, but she had the sense he hardly knew he was doing it. “We didn’t have much, until Logan made money. But I was safe, went to school, grew up.

  “Until one day I was … almost eighteen. I was crossing an alley. Heard a kid cry out. When I followed the sound, I found a man abusing a little girl. Using her mouth the same way that slimer did me. I went blind with rage. Dragged her away, and jumped him. I … him to death with my bare hands. Killed him.

  “Came back to myself to find two Zhen Lou there. They took over, took me and the kid to their hotel. Turned her over to a good crèche and offered me a chance at a life where I could learn to channel the rage.”

  He sighed deeply, his chest shuddering under her cheek with the movement. “Joined the Zhen-Lou to … try and finally make sense of life. To do something that mattered.”

  “I hope you got to beat the shit out of a lot more monsters,” she muttered. “And—and kill them too.”

  “Yeah. Did that. Just never thought I’d be—”

  “Do not,” she said fiercely, lifting her head so suddenly she bumped into his chin, “say that again, Creed Forth. You are not a bad man. I am not a victim. I’m a grown woman, who makes her own choices. I chose to come here, and yes I did it for the wrong reasons, but I will never, as long as I live, be sorry that we made love—or, or fucked or whatever you want to call it. Got that?”

  He gazed at her for a long moment, and her heart ached. Because she could see he wanted to believe her … but couldn’t.

  “Wish you’d told me the truth,” he said quietly.

  “Oh, Creed, I wish I had too,” she said sadly. “Because now I’m afraid you’re going to retreat even further.”

  She nodded at the iridium displayed on his wall. “That man you had to let go. He called you an ice man, but I think you want to be like your precious ore. Hard, glistening and impervious to any emotions. Nothing could get in then, no fear, no pain.

  “You didn’t give that man another chance. I’m sure it was because you couldn’t and keep everyone else safe. But at the time, I told myself you’d do the same to me,” she said.

  “Today, I finally admitted that I was the one who was at fault, not you. I was being a coward. And so I ended up hurting you and myself.”

  * * *

  Creed ripped his gaze away from the irridium, glittering in the lightbox. Too dangerous to touch, because of the razor-sharp edges of its refined form.

  She was right, he realized. He could feel the hard shell she was talking about, just waiting to reform itself around him. His cloak. Zhen calm was his iridium. Not impervious to hurt, she was wrong about that. Man had to use what he could, though, so he’d use it—a barrier to keep her out. Her and the false warmth she’d promised. Because she hadn’t wanted to give it.

  Now he had to bear with that the raw pain of remembering, of making himself say it out loud to another being. What had happened to him and what he’d done. And the regret that she now had to bear it with him. She was soft, she shouldn’t have had to hear that.

  “Creed, don’t let this be the end of us,” she pleaded. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. But don’t let it ruin what we have.”

/>   “Not sure we have anything,” he said. “I gave you plenty of chances to talk to me.”

  She moved toward him and he backed away. His chest was on fire, with no outlet for the searing pain. “I let you in. You lay in my arms and you lied to me.”

  At this, she flinched. She shook her head, and tears flooded her eyes. “No,” she protested, her voice thick with tears. “No, I didn’t. Not about what really mattered.”

  She opened her mouth to say more, to take another slice out of him, every word another cut.

  Except that the world around them exploded, the ceiling coming down in chunks, thunder buffeting his ears. As if in slow motion, a large piece of the ceiling cracked in and fell down toward her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Taara’s eyes widened, green gaze swung up, her mouth opening. She cried out to him in terror. He felt it although he couldn’t hear it over the reverberations of sound around them.

  “Taara!” Feeling as if he were wading through thick gel, Creed leaped across the space between them, tackling her around the waist, rolling her in mid-air so she landed on the carpet, with his body caging her, holding her down, her head tucked under his.

  The chunk of ceiling hit him on the back, a heavy blow that drove the air from his lungs and flattened him onto her. That was gonna hurt later, he thought absently.

  Another explosion rocked the house, this one further away. That settled one question—this was no accident, but an attack. The quarking pirates had gotten through again, and this time they were clearly bent on destruction.

  With a mighty effort, Creed drew in a deep breath, nearly choking as he inhaled dust and bits of debris. He shoved, using all his strength to throw off the chunk of heavy wood and insulation.

  “Get up.We gotta go.”

  She peered through her tousled hair. It was full of dust and bits of insulation, as was her dress. “What’s happening?” Her words ended in a fit of coughing.

  “Attack,” he said tersely. He levered himself onto his feet and grabbed her arm to pull her up with him. Chunks of building material fell from his hair and he shook his head, then braced himself as the room spun dizzily around him.

 

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