Sunscapes Trilogy Book 1: Last Chance

by Michelle O'Leary

  Made from the purest crystal, it had no flaws that she could see and was as clear as spring water. Someone with great skill had sculpted a flower of such delicate beauty that it hurt to look at it. Wrapping around the stem and looping around the petals was a vine with thorns. It surrounded the flower utterly and the sculptor had contrived to make almost every thorn point inward, threatening the blossom.

  "You're certain there was nothing imprinted in the crystal?” Sin asked through numb lips, but she knew the answer already. The gift was message enough.

  "I am certain,” Mina answered, her voice soft with sympathy.

  Sin nodded, but said nothing for a long moment, fighting the urge to fling the thing across the room, to smash it into unrecognizable bits. She knew Nick could see the emotion flowing across her features, but at that moment she couldn't care less. If Griffin had been in front of her just then, she would have killed him without hesitation.

  "It's the Signalan flower of mercy,” she said shortly. “The Enua."

  Nick growled low in the back of his throat. She could tell he'd deciphered at least part of the message—no mercy—but not all of it. She wasn't sure she could ever explain all the facets of this message, but on a bitter impulse, she decided to try.

  "The Enua is the symbol of my mother's house, Preterat House. She was from Signala originally.” She lifted her head to watch him absorb that information.

  The muscles of his face seemed to flinch in response to the sight of the thing, but he didn't look away from the beleaguered flower. There was more to the message, though.

  "My mother killed herself.” She said it starkly, with no emotion, but his head jerked up, the pupils of his eyes dilating until his dark eyes were as black as space.

  "Sun's blood,” he gritted, and Sin smiled without humor, feeling the stiff fury in her face.

  "You see what kind of gift he gives me. But you still don't completely understand. The flower caught among thorns is pretty obvious—he's declaring his domination.” She could hear the bitter anger in her voice, but she couldn't stop. Belatedly, she realized that opening this package in front of Nick had been a mistake. “The kind of flower, the use of the Enua, while a nasty jab at our family history, is not as much about our mother as it is about our blood. We're Preterat bloodline through her, so it's a threat against us—us, you understand? He didn't use the insignia for Shay Enterprises, the sphinx. He used our house symbol. He's making this personal, telling us we'll suffer the same fate as our mother. You know what this says to me, Inspector?"

  Nick was watching her with a stillness like the eye of a storm, coiled emotion on the edges of his dark gaze. He made no reply to her question, but she didn't need one. The vitriol burning in her throat demanded release.

  "This gift tells me that Griffin has no mercy, no pity, no compassion. But what he does have is fear. He's made this personal because we threaten him personally. He would not have displayed his hand so obviously if that weren't the case. So for that, by all the Galactic Suns, I'll thank him for this gift!"

  Unable to remain so near to the thing, Sin lunged to her feet and began pacing the room. Her hands clenched into fists as she tried to regain her composure.

  At first she felt Nick's eyes on her, but after a moment he turned away to study the flower. His expression was thoughtful as he stared at the gift. “Will you destroy it?” he asked in a musing tone.

  Sin paused at the end of the sofa, studying him as carefully as he studied the flower. He was a younger version of Del, with his strong features and dark eyes—and surprising intuition. She waited, feeling her blood cool in the silence, until he turned his head and met her eyes.

  With a faint smile that he could interpret any way he wanted, she finally responded, “Why do you ask something to which you already know the answer, Inspector?"

  He continued to gaze at her with calm directness, seemingly unflustered that she'd followed his train of thought. “If it means all that you say it does, why would you keep it?"

  "Destroying it gains me nothing, Nick. Accepting it may gain me everything."

  There was a flicker of unease in his eyes before he looked away from her, returning his gaze to the threatened, defenseless flower. “You play a deep game, Shay. A dangerous one.” His eyes came back to hers, vibrant with dark demand. “Let my brother go."

  She wanted to allay his fears for his brother, to explain the deep and dangerous game that he sensed but didn't fully understand. But it was too soon—there wasn't enough time, and trust was a factor. Instead, she smiled sadly and said, “That would be entirely up to him."

  It was the least she could do.

  "I apologize for interrupting, Sin,” Mina's melodious voice intruded. “But Manakai has informed me that you are late.” There was a slight questioning note at the end of that statement—according to Sin's schedule, she had no official appointments.

  "Thank you, Mina,” Sin responded, altering her expression to polite regret. It was now more important than ever that she spend some time in the Circle with Kai. After she told her brother about the gift, it was likely that they'd be there for a long, long while. “I'm sorry, Nick. I realize that we didn't get to any of your questions. Can we meet at another time?"

  He nodded, rising to his feet and giving the gift a final long look as he passed around the end of the sofa. “When will you be available?"

  "I'm afraid it might not be for a couple of days,” Sin replied, escorting him towards the door. “We leave on business tomorrow. But please feel free to stay as long as you like. I will make sure the station's every hospitality is open to you."

  "Thanks, that's ... very generous.” His tone was dubious and faintly questioning, but Sin smiled politely and pretended not to notice.

  "It's no trouble at all.” Opening the door, she stepped to one side and held to her polite smile as he passed through. “I will contact you when we are next available to answer your questions."

  "I hope it won't be too long,” he said with a pointed look from his dark eyes as he paused outside her door.

  Her smile widened with amusement, but she only said, “Goodbye, Inspector,” and let the door slide closed between them. With a sigh that was both relief and regret, Sin moved away from the door and headed with purposeful strides towards her bedroom. “Mina, make sure that thing isn't here when I get back."

  "What do you want me to do with it?"

  "Have it put on display in the Reception Hall. Prominent display."

  Mina's voice took on a dubious note, not unlike Nick's. “Are you certain?"

  "Oh, yes,” Sin muttered through clenched teeth. “Quite certain."

  Chapter 11

  Webster Griffin found his daughter in the Aqualyr, or the Water Room, as she had so crassly called it since she was a girl. As usual, she sat at edge of the fountain in the center, ignoring the numerous extravagant sculptures, paintings, and other liquid art that the room boasted. Always the fountain, he thought with a small grimace of distaste, but he hadn't come to start up that old argument. She had done well today, and though he wasn't going to go so far as to praise her, he'd decided to give her the reward of his attention.

  "Daughter,” he began in an even tone, but she interrupted without turning her gaze away from the tumble of water.

  "The gift was a mistake."

  His lips tightened as a flare of anger burned through him, but he controlled it with the steely discipline that marked his every waking moment. He hadn't made Quasicore what it was today by giving in to his emotions, but he was hard pressed not to react. She dared to disapprove of his decisions?

  "Mind your tongue, daughter,” he said in as easy and even a tone as when he'd first entered, but she glanced over her shoulder at him with a cool, knowing look in her gray eyes.

  Only those eyes marked her as his daughter—she was like her mother in every other respect, from her appearance to her attitude. As a general rule, she was malleable and obedient, but every once in a while she became intractable. Tod
ay was apparently one of those days when she was in the mood to test him. He noticed that she had those moods most frequently in this room.

  She smiled at him with a patience that made him want to grit his teeth. “Father, what use would I be to you if I didn't tell you the truth of what I see? You have enough people under you who mind their tongues. A whole galaxy, in fact."

  Flattery and insult in one—she'd at least paid attention when he'd instructed her, though turning her training on him was unacceptable. He returned her smile with a gentle one of his own. “I judge the measure of your usefulness, Liaena. I have no use for a disrespectful daughter who contradicts my decisions."

  She lowered her eyes from his submissively, but her smile remained to taunt him. “I mean no disrespect, Father. My choice of words may have been poor, but I feel it's my duty to tell you that I believe the gift will anger the Shays. And angering them is—"

  "A mistake?” he interrupted silkily, but she seemed immune to his lash.

  "Dangerous,” she finished, her expression sobering as she met his eyes again.

  He curled his lip in contempt, eyeing her with faint disgust. “They are no danger to Quasicore. You overestimate their abilities.” He heard the arrogance in his voice with a certain measure of satisfaction. There had been a time when he'd been wary of Shay Enterprises, but no longer. The passing of his opponent, Ezekiel, had sealed their fate—it was only a matter of time before he had them at his mercy. At the thought of his old nemesis, a pang went through him that he refused to acknowledge as sorrow.

  Dismissing his daughter, he turned away, but she stopped him in his tracks.

  "And you underestimate them,” she said in a voice as cold as the silver ice in her eyes. Then she turned her back on him as if he was meaningless.

  He punished her, of course. She had forced him into it. But he was vaguely uneasy to note that she took her punishment with the same remote stoicism as when she sat at her fountain, as if he couldn't touch her even with pain.

  Chapter 12

  Del rolled his head slowly from side to side, trying to release the knot of tension in his neck and shoulders as he waited for the lift to stop on his level. Training with Cassie had been as grueling today as it had been the previous day. Worse actually—she'd been more critical and a harder taskmaster with this day's training. He'd never had any experience with the kind of weapons that were installed in his Shadow, so his performance had been abysmal.

  Cassie, it seemed, was a Sun-cursed perfectionist. She'd kept him out on the ranges flying evasive maneuvers and practicing his targeting until his whole body burned with tension. Finally she'd let him return to the station with an uninspiring, “It'll have to do."

  Del had decided that she was evil incarnate.

  The lift doors opened, and he moved down the hall to his quarters, grimacing at the protesting stretch of his muscles. Grumbling under his breath about domineering little women, he entered his quarters and then jumped when a feminine voice greeted him.

  "Welcome home, Adelmo. You have a visitor."

  Del remembered the AI and made a face. She was going to take some getting used to. “Hey, Sam,” he muttered and then saw his brother rising from the couch. “Hey, Nick ... wait, how did you get in here?"

  His brother grinned, but it was Samantha who answered. “My apologies, Adelmo. Nicholo assured me that you would allow him to wait within for your return."

  "Well, he was right, so don't apologize. But he's the only one, understand? And stop calling me Adelmo. I'm Del. He's Nick."

  "I understand."

  Nick's grin turned faintly conspiratorial as Del flopped onto the couch with a sigh of relief. “I sweet-talked her, but I don't think she'd have done it if it wasn't me. Since I was part of her naming and all...” He lifted his eyebrows pointedly as he sat back down next to Del.

  Del snorted, eyeing his brother with weary amusement. “Think that gives you special privileges, do you?"

  "Nah, being your brother does that,” Nick answered, his tone light but his expression sobering. “But apparently naming a house companion is a big deal."

  Del studied his brother's face for a second, seeing the implications in his familiar dark eyes. “Been busy today?"

  "Yes, I have.” There was no mistaking the somber note in his voice.

  With a quick frown, Del cleared his throat and said, “Hey, Sam, can you handle privacy mode for a little while?"

  "Certainly. When you wish to end it—"

  "Request VRS to resume. Got it,” Del finished for her.

  "Privacy mode is now on."

  There was a small silence as the brothers looked at one another. Then Nick opened his mouth, but Del held up a hand to forestall him. “Before you get into it, let me take a quick san and grab a bite to eat. Think you can remember how to make a supernova?"

  Nick's expression lightened in amusement. “You sure you wanna go down that road again?"

  Del grimaced ruefully and rolled his shoulders. “Not all the way down, but I could use a muscle relaxer. The little slave driver was at it again."

  Nick chuckled, clapping Del on the shoulder before getting to his feet. “Go get cleaned up. It'll be ready when you come out."

  "Thanks,” Del muttered, levering himself to his feet with some difficulty and cursing Cassie under his breath. Who knew flying a slicer could make a body so sore?

  Nick had more than a drink ready when Del was finished sanitizing and pulling on clean clothes. The place was filled with delicious smells, and Del was pulled to the kitchen where plates of food were laid out on the table.

  "You're awful handy to have around,” Del commented as he sat at the table, eyeing the food with anticipation.

  "Handy, that's me,” Nick answered wryly, setting the supernova down in front of Del as he sat next to him.

  Del dove into the meal with relish, wolfing down the food like a starved animal. He was aware that his brother was watching him with tempered amusement, but ignored that in favor of his demanding stomach. When he finished, he sat back with a satisfied sigh and downed the rest of his nova.

  "Better?” his brother asked.

  "Much. Thanks, brother."

  "No problem. Did the little dragon starve you, too?"

  "Yes, she did,” Del answered in an aggrieved tone. “And enjoyed every second. That woman is pure evil.” Nick laughed softly, but his eyes had a somber gleam that caught Del's attention. He pushed his plate away and then stared at the younger man with grim resolve. “So spit it out, Nick. What have you found out?"

  Nick sighed, pushing his own half-eaten plate away. “You won't like it."

  "What a surprise,” Del drawled, his tone dry enough to evaporate oceans.

  Nick acknowledged this with a quirk of his lips, but his eyes met Del's with a seriousness that caused a frisson of alarm to skate across his skin.

  "You have to get away from these people. I don't know exactly what they're up to, but whatever it is, it's big and it involves Quasicore. It's not just business either—it's personal.” He sat forward, his expression earnest and the lines around his mouth tight with dismay. “It's a blood feud, Del. With Webster Griffin. You stay and you'll get crushed between them."

  The alarm sank through Del's skin and leeched into his bones, turning to cold dread. “How do you know?"

  "I was with Sin when she received a gift from Griffin. I don't think she was expecting the kind of gift she got or she wouldn't have opened it in front of me. I knew the Core was brutal, but I never knew it could be subtle. The gift was a warning and a threat. And maybe a promise, too."

  "What was it?” Del asked, watching his brother with keen interest.

  Nick's expression hardened. “It was a crystal flower surrounded by thorns,” he said tersely.

  Del looked away to hide the flare of bitter anger that surged through him at his brother's words. A declaration of possession. Why didn't Griffin just brand her ass with the Core insignia and be done with it?

  "How d
id she react?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  "Not well,” his brother answered, the dry amusement in his voice not hiding an undertone of strain. “I gotta say, she's even more beautiful when she's pissed off.” Then his face sobered again, eyes alive with warning. “She wields it like a weapon. And her brother's just like her. You get between them and Griffin and you'll be just a smear on the floor."

  "I don't plan on getting between them,” Del said, feeling his whole body tighten with emotion.

  Nick leaned closer, taking Del's wrist in a hard clasp, eyes sharp. “You stay here and you won't be able to help it. Bad enough to stand between titans, brother. Anybody'd get crushed. Even worse to be in the palm of her hand."

  Del pulled away from his brother's grip, standing to clean off the table. “I've got a year's contract to complete. And a debt to pay,” he said tightly, not looking at his brother. He didn't answer Nick's implication that a contract and honor weren't the only things keeping him here. He had no answer for that.

  "She'll let you go,” Nick said in an insistent tone, and Del paused to look at him.

  "How do you know that?"

  Nick shrugged with what looked like reluctance. “I asked her to, and she said that was up to you."

  Del dropped the plates back on the table with a crash and glared down at his brother. “You did what?"

  Nick met his gaze grimly and without a hint of remorse. “I told you I'd do everything I could to help you."

  "And you call trying to get me fired help?"

  "Yes,” his brother answered with calm resolve, sitting back and hooking one arm over the back of his seat casually.

  Del stared at him for a long moment before snorting in disgust. “Well, cut it out. She might just decide to make my life miserable instead."

  "You think she isn't already?” Nick shot back with a sardonic look. “Did you see what she was wearing today?"

  The question caught Del by surprise, as did the memory of Sin draped in delicious cream and temptation. By the mocking half-smile that formed on his brother's lips, he could see that Nick had interpreted his expression accurately. Clenching his jaw, he folded his arms and refused to answer, staring back at Nick with resentment.