by Pippa Jay
He released himself from his safety harness and moved into the seat beside her. With a graceful wave of his fingers, he slowly extended his hand to her. She stared into his palm as if it was a zone too dangerous for even her to enter. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. I won’t have you suffering on my account.”
And what about on your own account?
Tyree hesitated. Neither of them had chosen to be in this situation. Why did he deliberately go out of his way to make it easy for her when it had to cost him so much?
The temptation was too much, and as the craft shivered beneath her she gripped his hand with a sudden urgency. “Tell me if it gets too overwhelming. I’ve never tried this with anyone but an Inc-Su.”
“Understood.”
Together they both sank back into their seats with eyes closed, hands linked. Tyree touched the shield control and tentatively opened herself to Zander.
A dull ache brushed her first, dark red. Fragments of pain in silver shards that left her gasping but were gone in an instant. Then a dark golden glow, the color of the robes he chose to wear, enveloped her. It was warm and sweet as capprey, but layered with bitterness. Like bathing in muted sunshine, or being wrapped in soft furs and held. Her breath caught as it cocooned her. The strength and focus of his aura startled her. In most humans it was a wild and ragged thing, flaring madly, easy to draw and consume. In Zander, the depth and complexity of it left her speechless. Made her ache for more. Even Inc-Su rarely had such a strong and sure aura. It spoke of his confidence and endurance. His determination. His passion.
She sank into it willingly. Liquid gold flowed into her, and she floated on it, euphoria singing in her veins.
Sudden pain slammed into her chest. The image of a woman. Her own image...and yet not hers. The way she moved, the way she spoke, was alien to Tyree, to her own perceptions of herself. This was Mirsee. Zander’s memories of her, his sense of her. A twin to Tyree, her death a dagger in his heart, burning deeper than his scars. His agony at the loss of Mirsee seared into her.
She tried to twist free, to sink back into the golden glow that lay at his core. Finding a glimpse, she dove into it, and pulled the threads of it back around herself. His thoughts poured into her soul. Grief, need, passion. Desire.
Pressure built within her, a terrible aching need that possessed her. She wanted him. Needed him now!
The straps dug deep and hard into her skin as she jerked forward, and the pain of it yanked her from Communion. Zander still held her hand but gripped so tightly that her fingers had gone numb from the pressure. She looked at him. Muscles twitched in his jaw, his lips pressed hard together. His eyes were closed and his brow furrowed as if in pain, his body held rigid.
“Zander.” She reached over her free hand to shake him. “Zander!”
He broke free with a shuddering gasp of air, as if he’d held his breath for the whole of their Communion. His grip on her hand loosened completely.
“Zander, I’m sorry, I should have—”
“It’s fine.” The snap in his usually smooth voice told her it wasn’t true, but she accepted the lie.
The heat that had seized her dissipated, leaving her cold with a deep ache of longing to recapture that lost moment. She wanted Zander to hold her hand, to reassure her that everything was all right as he’d done before, but he’d closed his eyes again, pressing himself back into the seating as if to shut the world out. As if to shut her out.
Guilt dropped a leaden weight into her stomach, and she sank into her own seat, clenching her hands around the armrests. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself into the trance state that had gotten her through her first journey to the Seclusion. But amidst the turmoil seething in her heart, even that comfort evaded her.
***
Tyree tried to focus on the last briefing with Zander as a distraction, reviewing all she knew about their destination. The area known as Neutrality was an empty section of space between the worlds claimed by the Tier-vane and the human-dominated range of the Territories. Several other races lived alongside humanity, each claiming their own systems in a loosely-knit accord, with trade and minor disputes being settled by the Galactic Commission. Whereas G-Comm Wardens could be from any of the sentient races, the Terran Assembly alone represented humanity.
The other races, separated from the Tier-vane by the human systems, felt no need for treaty or accords with the war-like felinoids. After all, if the Tier-vane invaded, the human worlds would fall first, a harsh reality that Zander confessed had driven the Terran Assembly to this risky solution. G-Comm worlds would support humanity, but it was the humans who would bear the brunt of any assault—and any losses. And what of the Inc-Su? Now that Tyree knew about the psi-weapons, the prospect of facing the Tier-vane in battle knotted her stomach almost as much as space travel.
Their transport docked so smoothly that Tyree barely felt the process. After the disastrous Communion with Zander, she had eventually pushed herself into her dormant state and only a final shudder running through their ship as the core drive vented shook her from her trance. She woke with a frightened gasp, and Zander touched her hand.
“You are safe,” he murmured, as if he had felt her panic. Perhaps he had. She hadn’t shielded herself again, and that brief merging of their auras would linger.
“Sorry,” she muttered, reaching for the shield control. At the edge of her perceptions, hundreds of unfamiliar auras flickered and teased her. The gray nothingness of the shield was preferable to that, even though it closed out Zander’s golden presence—so close, and yet forbidden to her.
“Here.”
As she released herself from her harness, he offered his hand again. She hesitated before accepting it, afraid his touch might reawaken the terrible need she had felt, and that it might harm him again. But the shield held it back, and the warmth of his hand, the sureness of his grip took so much of the apprehension from her that she almost wanted to hug him.
And how would he react to that?
He led her to the exit, with their small entourage following. As the double doors opened with a faint hiss, a Monitor guide—a pale white globe hovering at head height—waited to greet them in the corridor.
“Welcome. I am Petori, Monitor of Centralis. Please follow me to your quarters.”
It bobbed ahead of them as they obeyed. The narrow gray docking corridor led to a wider one in gleaming white. Panels etched with gold lines and symbols from a hundred different written languages decorated the walls. Between each of them, living murals of galactic views, planetary scenes from a dozen worlds, and alien art-forms broke up the whiteness. They stopped twice along the way, first at Callista’s assigned quarters with a small medical facility, then for Visaya and Pevanne, before Petori delivered Tyree and Zander to theirs, the luggage already set in place. A spacious living room in shades of green and blue, an elaborate bathroom—a huge luxury in space—and a large bedroom with a bed that could have slept all five greeted them. Tyree dropped her shield and paced the rooms to assess them. A faint sense of relief touched her to see a comfortable sofa as part of their furniture. Even if they agreed to share the bed as nothing more than a convenience, she worried about what the Communion had done to her restraint and Zander’s composure. Best not for her to be near temptation.
“Are they to your satisfaction?” Zander enquired with a hint of humor.
“They seem to be okay,” Tyree said, perfectly serious. Aside from their three companions, no one appeared to be in this section of the station.
“I’ll take the sofa tonight,” Zander announced, and before she could protest he stepped closer to her. For an instant she thought he was going to embrace her and tensed, but he merely moved a hand in her direction. “You look tired. Perhaps you should sleep now?”
“What about you?”
“I’ll sit out here and read for a while. Pevanne can bring us dinner later. Unless you’re hungry now?”
Her stomach churned, but not with a d
esire for food. “No, I can wait. When do we meet the Tier-vane?”
“The day after tomorrow. We have our inauguration in the morning, to reinstate us both as delegates.”
She knew the schedule but her body clock felt out of alignment. If dinner was still to come, then it wasn’t night here yet. “Will you be all right if I sleep?”
And should I let Pevanne know? I can’t leave him unguarded here.
Zander frowned. “Yes. I promise I’ll stay alert and not sit with my back to the door until you wake.”
Although his tone was serious, his words were faintly mocking, reminding her that he’d taken her scolding about personal security on board. “Okay. I would like to sleep, thanks.”
With a courtly gesture, he urged her toward the bedroom and she took it gratefully. The failed Communion had left her more out of sorts than not having one at all. She didn’t even bother to change out of her Su-shift as she curled up and sank into the memorphorm mattress that molded around her much like Zander’s arms once had. The comparison made her ache.
***
Tyree jerked from sleep, a whimper caught in her throat. Again, she’d dreamed of that first kill. But this time, it was Zander’s glazed face that had stared up at her in silent accusation, the golden light of his aura stripped from his dead body. The pain in her gut made her curl into a tight ball, gasping with agony. She was used to the nightmares of that first death, but they had never been so vivid, nor had they ever featured the face of someone she hadn’t actually killed. To see Zander lying dead beneath her had been a horror greater than any other.
She forced herself to take long, slow breaths, purging the terror of that vision. For all their psi-related talents, Inc-Su had no kind of prescience. It wasn’t a vision of something to come, although there was always that possibility. Perhaps that was what she was afraid of. What if she was fated to kill him one day? Could she do it? The thought repelled her more than facing her first kill again.
And then what? Dissipation? Would I rather face that instead?
She groaned and levered herself upright. He would just be another target. Another human in need of removal. She couldn’t show any favoritism because she’d gotten to like the man a little.
Speaking of which...
She clicked off the shielding at her shoulder and reached out. His golden presence, muted in sleep, glowed on the far side of the wall. Farther beyond, at the edge of her senses, she found and identified the rest of their group, including Pevanne. If he wasn’t shielded, then he wasn’t on watch, which meant she should be. And she was already dressed for the part and fully awake.
Tyree slid from the bed and Misted out to pass through the bedroom wall and into the living quarters. Zander had fallen asleep in a chair. For once, the scarred side faced her. The delicate ragged tendrils fanned across his cheek and temple like the feathery fronds of a netusi palm leaf. She wanted to touch them, to trace the patterns they made. To her, they were beautiful, just as he was. The mark of his suffering and courage.
The strange and sudden urge disturbed her, quickened her pulse. What was it about this man? He had charm, certainly. Handsome, considerate, quietly determined. Or was it simply that being confined with him meant she had come to know him in a way totally unlike her previous encounters with humans. Was that the difference? Would she see humans in a different light after this occasion? Visaya, Pevanne, even the avian medic Callista, had become familiar associations. Perhaps even friends?
Still incorporeal, still drawn to him, she hovered closer. No, this seemed something else. Being in his presence warmed her more than the body-molding memorphorm mattress. More like rejoining her kin in Refuge. Although not the same, she hungered for that sense of kinship, of reunion that she’d believed could be found only in her traditional home.
She drifted in front of him, merging into his aura. Warmth and golden light wrapped loving coils around her, and she bit back a moan of pleasure. She wanted more. Not the full auric release of death, but at least the illusion of unity with him. Her lips brushed his, a feather touch. A shimmer of yearning passed into her from Zander, and she took more solid form to press her mouth against his and feel him mirror her move even though he was still on the edge of sleep. Heat flooded her veins as their kiss deepened and his desire blended into hers.
A familiar tightening clenched in her groin, but this was beyond the basic need for sex, or for auric energy. She wanted this man. While she might not be prepared to admit it aloud, she had come to admire him, human though he was. A strange feeling for a Su. She had never had a choice in her targets. Among the Inc-Su, when the compulsion for Communion forced her to seek one out, it would often be the first she met equally desperate to share. To make her own choice now only deepened the terrible desire she felt for him. It burned her. A pain both consuming and sweet.
Zander lifted a hand, threaded it through her hair, and pulled her in. “Mirsee,” he whispered with longing, and she jerked back as if he’d punched her in the face.
His eyes flickered open, and then widened in surprise. “Tyree?”
She opened her mouth, about to protest, but he blinked and saw her clearly. Pain splintered into her, pouring from him in an icy cascade of shock. “Tyree!”
Agony smacked her in the chest. His passion had been for his lost love, not for her.
She Misted out and ran away.
Chapter Seven
She paced the room, hugging herself, forcing down the shakes. Swallowing the knot in her throat that threatened to choke her. What had she expected? In all honesty? She bit down on the pathetic whimper clamoring to escape. This was not how Su behaved. She shouldn’t have kissed him. It was a huge error, and she had only herself to blame for the agony raging through her now, the sense of rejection. Why would Zander have any feelings for her? Of course he would mistake her for Mirsee, whom she duplicated in almost every way. He still loved Mirsee, still grieved for her. And Tyree was an Inc-Su assassin, who killed with sex, not the innocent but flawed Su he had loved and been bonded to. Why would he want her?
She flopped onto the bed and rocked herself. Just for a moment, she had felt something different. Not the need for sex and auric energy, though the desire had been there. This had been warmth laced with affection. She had made a choice freely for once, without any orders to kill, without the terrible need for Communion. She had gone to Zander, wanting him for himself. Simply to be a part of him for those few moments of bliss. To have him touch her, kiss her. Hold her. She remembered how he’d held her after she’d been poisoned. The concern she’d felt from him. How he’d stayed afterward while she slept, worried for her.
But of course his only concern was to complete the treaty. He didn’t really care about her. Not as a person. Not as a woman. Just as the only way to keep the peace with the Tier-vane rather than going to war. That was the extent of her value. She was a fool to believe otherwise.
She lay down and curled up into a tight knot. Longed for Refuge and the feel of her kin. Longed even for Communion with one of her kind, instead of the hollow, aching void in her chest. The terrible gnawing loneliness. Was that why she had sought Zander out? Driven there simply by her need for companionship? Or did she feel more? Was this what it felt like to be in love?
If so, she couldn’t understand why anyone would permit it. At that moment she would rather be Dissipated.
***
The smell of capprey woke her. She lay curled in bed and sucked in the scent as though she’d been starved of the caffeine-rich brew for a year. She’d spent a restless night listening for Zander, torn between wanting him to come to her and terror that he would. What would he say? What could she say after last night? Should she apologize? Pretend it had never happened? Her thoughts ran rampant. Not even the Rules of Decorum covered this. Certainly nothing in the Inc-Su community of Refuge.
A soft knock sounded on her door. Her stomach writhed. She couldn’t face Zander. Not yet.
“My lady?”
Visaya. A
strange mix of emotions roiled through her. Anger that he clearly wasn’t prepared to face her, disappointment that he hadn’t come, and a feeling akin to sorrow, all dominated by relief. She shook herself. Today was the re-inauguration, and tomorrow their formal meeting with the Tier. Hiding in bed simply wasn’t an option.
“Yes?”
“I have your breakfast.”
Tyree sighed and forced herself out of bed, pausing to slip a loose robe over her nakedness. Not that Visaya and Zander hadn’t seen her naked before, but somehow she felt that probably wasn’t appropriate. Not that she could put a finger on why it bothered her now.
Visaya hovered outside the door as Tyree opened it, her hands clasped in front of her.
Edgy, Tyree noted. I wonder why particularly?
“How are you this morning, my lady?” Visaya spoke in a slightly breathless fashion. “Have you suffered any ill effects from travelling?”
“No, I’m fine.” Why would Visaya think that? Had Zander told Visaya about her issues with space travel?
She glanced toward the living area and her heart froze. Zander sat at the table, hunched over a cup of capprey and his gaze fixed on the contents.
Mothers, he looks as though he took on more than two Manikins...
She met Visaya’s gaze, and the woman twitched her head, indicating that Tyree should go and join him.
Mothers and Fathers...
As if being sent for Dissipation, Tyree went to the table and sat.
Zander’s gaze flicked up toward her. “Are you well this morning?” His voice came out as rough as he looked, but at least he was speaking to her.
“Fine. Thanks.” She grabbed the cup of capprey awaiting her and buried her nose in it, taking a deep breath before drinking. Hot and sweet, the drink improved her outlook no end.
“Do you want to run through the ceremony for re-inauguration again?”
“No, I don’t think so. I have it memorized.” Tyree helped herself to various wafers and fruits from the table. “Besides, the cleric will be doing all the talking, won’t he?”