The Harbinger took Khyff's face between both hands. Khyff felt the heat of the man's gaze.
“I believe you would.” Saint-Cyr's hands moved down to his shoulders. “I know the courage it took to offer me what you just did, and I'm deeply honored. But I'll never think of you in that way, Khyffen. I want you to never let anyone own you again. You're a free man. The next time you surrender your body, make sure your heart goes with it.”
“Yes, sir. I will.”
“Well, now. We should celebrate your good news.” He set an arm around Khyff's shoulders as they walked.
For the first time Khyff could remember having a man touch him didn't fill him with disgust. Saint-Cyr was the first man other than Senth who'd proven worthy of his trust.
“This is so amazing. I'm free! I can't believe this is happening.”
“Neither can I,” Saint-Cyr agreed. “I'm going to owe your brother a lot of money.”
“Sir?”
Saint-Cyr patted him on the back. “Never mind. Thinking out loud. What do you say we find a nice place to eat and then get thoroughly drunk?”
Khyff tossed back his head and laughed.
* * * *
Tarth, Tarth City
I can't believe this is happening. Senth kept both hands behind his head as he and NarrAy were prodded into one of the storage containers he'd opened earlier. At least they didn't shoot me. Yet.
The metal door clanged shut behind them, trapping them in total darkness. A bar scraped shut on the other side. In the confining space, their breathing echoed.
Senth reached out, found NarrAy's hands reaching for him. “I'm sorry.”
Her arms slid around his waist as he pulled her into his arms. “Not your fault, Senth. I should have known this would happen.”
“Brox and Encie. What'll they do?”
He felt her head move. “They have orders to leave me behind if I'm caught.”
“Great. So we're totally screwed.”
“I'm sorry!” She pressed against him harder, hugging his waist. “I should never have gotten you into this.”
“Don't be silly. It's not like you forced me.” He set his chin on the top of her head. “I got paid to be here. I had a choice.”
“Did you?”
He thought of Khyff. What would happen to him now? “Yes,” he said at last. “I did. Anyway…” he slid his fingers through her hair, “—I'm glad I can be here with you. I'd hate to think of you alone in here.”
“Oh, Senth.” Her hand felt warm on his cheek.
When he moved his head, her lips brushed his chin.
Bending toward her, his lips found her mouth. He swept his tongue inside, savoring the sweet taste he hadn't been able to get out of his mind since she'd kissed him on the elevator.
Her arms went up around him, holding him against her as she pressed up into his kiss.
They broke apart at the groan of metal against metal. The high whine of a motor kicked in, followed by the clank of chains across a concrete floor.
“Hold on!” Senth clutched her. “We're being moved.”
The truck-sized container jarred on its foundations and tipped. Senth and NarrAy flung out their arms, skidding across the metal floor and into the wall.
Warning beeps and a whistle sounded. The unit tilted again and lifted into the air.
They huddled together on the floor to keep from being thrown. Senth braced his feet flat against the floor, helping NarrAy settle between his thighs, up against his chest where he could keep her safe. Her head went against his shoulder, and he wrapped her in his arms as the unit began to lower.
It landed with a thud-scrape-thud and settled hard. Chains rattled on the outside again. More beeping and whistles. A different motor, this one with the deep thrum of a transport truck. A hiss of air shrieked under the truck, and they felt the unit jolt up off the ground.
“We're moving,” he said. “Where do you suppose they're taking us?”
He felt her shrug. “You saw those uniforms.”
“Praetorians. What's the Conqueror got to do with that locket of yours?”
He heard her sigh, felt her shoulders lower as she leaned against him. “Remember I said it held the key to my inheritance?”
“Yeah. I take it that's something she wants.”
“My parents unlocked an old technology for her. Something from before the barrier was erected, before the First Cycle of Wars.”
“I thought all that barrier stuff was a myth.”
“It wasn't to my parents. They saw it.”
“They saw the barrier? It's real?”
“They said it was.”
“Wow.” Senth leaned his head against the wall. “What's it look like?”
“They said it was like a net cast in space, trillions upon trillions of tiny navcapsules spread across parsecs. It scrambled navigation and broadcast a warning.”
“And it's really to keep people on our side of the galaxy from leaving?”
“Yes.” She moved her head against his shoulder. “Like a quarantine.” Her hands rested against his chest.
He wrapped his fingers around hers. “Quarantine for what? You mean like some kind of disease?”
“No. It warned about genetic damage during unprotected planetfall. The odd thing is, it was coded in a language similar to what our Etymis is based on.”
Pting! Pting!
Senth ducked at the loud retort of shots ricocheting off the metal container. The vehicle came to an abrupt stop.
“Down!” NarrAy grabbed him.
He felt her warmth as she covered him with her body. Shouts outside. More weapons fire. A scream of agony.
“What's going on?”
“A fire fight,” she said against his ear. Through her fingers on his neck, he felt her pulse beat as wildly as his own.
“Are we being rescued?”
“I don't see how. Brox and Encie are the only ones who know where we are, and they don't have the firepower to do anything about it.” She slid her hand down to take his. “Come on.”
He followed her to the door. “What are we going to do?”
“Get down, right here.” Her hands guided him.
He stooped beside her near the door, hiding to the right of the latch side.
“When someone opens that thing,” she told him, “we're fighting our way out of here.”
Outside, the metal bar across the door screeched on its way up.
Chapter Nine
Tarth, Tarth City
NarrAy leaned her body weight against Senth. “Let me go first, and if you get a chance to run, take it. No heroics. I can always find you.”
“How?”
She pressed her mouth against his for one heart-melting moment and savored the taste of him, smooth as a lick of vanilla ice cream on a hot day. It was all she could do not to kiss him deeper.
“I'm attuned to you.”
The screeching metal stopped. Two taps against the door, then one. All clear. A signal known by everyone. NarrAy readied her fists.
“Chocolate.” A man's voice on the other side. It was not Broxus, but it was their code.
“Chocolate is good,” she responded.
“Chocolate and sex are better.”
She had to smile. How could she not?
“Friendlies!” She leaned into Senth.
The door swung outward.
The sight of two armed Praetorians in full riot gear brought NarrAy to an abrupt halt.
The one on the right snapped her a salute. “Lieutenant Stealth Keheyl, Captain.” He extended a hand to help her down from the container bed. “Newly recruited to the Liberation Army.”
NarrAy motioned to Senth. He landed beside her. A stiff breeze caught a few tendrils of his dark hair not tucked under his cap. He stuffed them back and pulled the cap tighter. She grabbed his hand.
“My aides?”
“Already picked up, ma'am.” Keheyl gestured to one side. Paper litter blew across the bodies of dead Praetorians. “We
're in a hurry. This unit has backup on its way. Follow me, please.” Keheyl trotted toward the front of the transport.
Wide swaths of burn marks scorched the side of the container. The driver hung out the door; a quasi-beam rifle slung over one lifeless arm.
“You two did this?”
“Had to, ma'am. They just wouldn't see it our way.”
A scoot squatted ahead of them, looking like a pregnant dragonfly perched on the ground. Above it, blades pulsed, pushing silent air. In space, alternate flight surfaces took control.
NarrAy hung back when she saw the Conqueror's golden fist insignia on the side. She pointed at the logo and questioned Keheyl with her eyes.
“The Conqueror's personal scoot, ma'am. We steal nothing but the best.”
Senth tugged her arm, looking for reassurance. She nodded, motioned him ahead of her, and climbed in. Keheyl and the other Praetorian piled in after her. She barely fastened her belt before the fat little vehicle shot straight into the air.
It came to a dead stop at the top of the atmosphere and went forward at a ninety-degree angle.
So did the contents of Senth's stomach.
The flight crew tended to the mess as if it were an every day occurrence. Senth sipped at a bottle of water and kept his head down. The cabin noise, minimal in a luxury scoot like this, still made regular conversation difficult.
NarrAy drew Senth into her arms and kissed his brow, settling him against her shoulder. Close together, they could talk privately.
“You've never flown in a scoot before, have you?”
He lifted woeful eyes. “You can tell, huh?”
She smiled at his attempt at humor, and stroked his cheek. Her other hand slipped off his cap and played with his hair. She turned to Keheyl. “Lieutenant,” she shouted.
“Yes, ma'am?” His fingertips touched his helmet in respect.
“We'll debrief in a few minutes.”
“As you wish.”
Senth was staring up at her when she turned back. “I'm sorry, NarrAy.”
“Don't worry about it.”
“But this scoot—it's beautiful inside. Look at these seats!” He ran a hand over the surface. “They're leather, and the carpet's so deep you sink in it. And I just puked all over it.”
She set her forehead against his. “Think of it this way. It's the Conqueror's.”
That did nothing to set him at ease. “You're part of the rebellion, aren't you?”
No reason to hide it now. “I am. Does it make a difference to you?”
He ran his tongue over his lips.
She went on playing with his hair, letting him think.
He shook his head and smiled. “No. But tell me something.”
“What?”
“Does it matter to you that I'm not free? That I can't be free for at least two more years?”
She gazed down into his beautiful blue eyes. Darker blue outlined the oval pupil and, this close she could see tiny flecks of yellow. True cats' eyes.
“Are you asking me for a commitment, Senth?”
“I'm telling you it may be that long before my master lets me act on what I feel for you.”
His honesty surprised her into silence.
“I wanted you to know,” he said. “I care about you. If you wanted to wait for me, I mean.”
NarrAy cupped a hand under his chin and lifted his face. You adorable man-child. I could eat you up. She pressed her mouth against his cheek, not daring to kiss him here. Not after those endearing words. Her pheromones would wreak havoc in such an enclosed space.
Senth shifted on the seat, one arm around her waist from behind as he snuggled closer. He closed his eyes. NarrAy set her cheek against the top of his head and hugged him with both arms.
She wished for words to express what she felt, but what could she say when she had never felt this way before? This innocent virgin in her arms was so young, yet in every way a man. He had captured her body; she could hardly bear to be separated from him.
And now he had captured her heart.
* * * *
Kelthia, Miraj City
Khyff rested his head against the high leather seatback and closed his eyes. The booth was all the way in the rear of the restaurant, the kind of secluded, dark corner most of his clients preferred. Except this was not a client and he would never again have to perform any kind of sex act under the table in a booth. A genuine smile of pure happiness made itself comfortable on his mouth.
“How are you feeling?” The Harbinger was cutting steak; Khyff could hear the clink and scrape of knife and fork.
He didn't open his eyes. “Content.”
More scraping and clinking. The sound of a glass being moved. “How long has it been since you were good and drunk?”
Khyff turned his head toward the voice and opened his eyes. He could see Luc Saint-Cyr's whiteless eyes over the rim of the wineglass the man held. Is he watching me, or the door?
“Drunk? I'm never drunk.” Khyff grinned at him. “But I'm always good.”
The Harbinger laughed.
“What is it?” Khyff asked.
He set down the glass and patted a napkin over his lips. “What do you mean?”
“What is it you want me to do?” Khyff remained relaxed, his head resting on the booth.
“You think I brought you here to ask a favor?”
Khyff set a hand over his full stomach. “I make a living reading body language.”
Saint-Cyr took a bite of meat, chewed it, watching him. After he swallowed, he said, “I have a feeling Senth's going to need our help.”
Khyff's time on the street taught him never to show fear. Instead, he quieted, alert to impending danger. “Senth's in trouble?”
“I'm sure of it.”
“How do you know?”
The Harbinger let one finger circle the top of his wineglass. “I sense these things.”
“He said that about you.” Khyff sat up, reached for his coffee, and drank it straight down. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
* * * *
Tarth, Tarth City
Rheyn Destoiya took in the six dead Praetorians on the ground and one in the door of the transport. The door of the shipping and storage container hung open, the inside empty. The acrid smell of charred flesh marred the humid air.
“How did they escape?”
Lieutenant Dhia Ruh, her new senior Praetorian, bolted to attention. “They used your scoot, Your Majesty.”
The Conqueror turned to her. “What did you say?”
Ruh fidgeted slightly. “They commandeered your personal scoot, Your Majesty.”
“Who let this happen?”
“We found the flight crew dead and the guards chained to their posts with their mouths taped shut.”
“That won't save them, Ruh. I want them questioned. I want to know who did this.”
“Already found out, Your Majesty.” The Kin female extended a furry hand. The paper in it bore the same crimson stain as her fingers. Ruh was efficient. “He left a note this time.”
Destoiya accepted it, opened it gingerly. It read, “Thanks for the use of the scoot,” and was signed by the head of the rebellion, leader of the All People's Liberation Army. The bane of Destoiya's existence.
The Sleeper.
Chapter Ten
Imperial Armada Ship Vandal
Officers’ Quarters
Though still carrying the marks of an armada cruiser, the Vandal and its crew had switched sides.
Senth followed NarrAy down a narrow corridor. “Why is everything on this ship lit up with red?”
“It's on Night Ops. Red makes it easier for the eyes to adjust to darkness and you can still distinguish everything. Let's see, cabin number … Ah, here we are.” She unlocked a door and he followed her inside. “This is our room.”
Encie and Broxus had brought Senth's and NarrAy's bagbots with them, and both bots waited in the room, inactive. The tiny cabin sported a chair, a drop down desk, and a garment
rack with a few cubbyholes under it. A mirror covered the back of the door.
One bed. A double.
Senth's cheeks burned in remembrance of the last time he and NarrAy were alone near a bed. “We're—um—both in here?”
“Mmh hmm.” NarrAy backed him against the door and set a hand on either side of his head. “This cabin is for accompanied officers.”
“A-accompanied?” You need a mind slap, you idiot! Say something intelligent. Unsure where to put his hands, Senth put them behind him.
“You know,” she slid a finger across his chin, “meaning with someone.”
“Oh, yeah.” Something intelligent, kkkhh face! But nothing came to mind and the only thing in sight was the bed. Or her. Right there, up close, next to him, breathing the same air. Oh, ffffftt! The way she's looking at my mouth. It's like—ffffftt! His throat almost closed. I am feeling soooo—naked.
NarrAy put one of her feet between his and leaned against him. Body to body. All the way from his calves up to his waist. Even through his clothes, her warmth soaked into him. And her scent. What was it?
Sugar cookies. That's what she smells like. Vanilla and butter and oh—ffffftt.
NarrAy pressed her fingers against his lips. Senth held his breath as NarrAy watched the progress of her fingers. They slid from his mouth to his chin, down the front of his throat and stopped where his cloak fastened.
He gulped.
NarrAy looked up at him, burnished amber eyes heavy lidded. He couldn't catch his breath. Her dark blonde lashes fluttered like butterfly wings on a hot summer afternoon. Slow, lazy, indolent, and a thing of sheer fascination.
Senth sucked in a shallow breath.
“I have a debriefing, my tiger, but I'll be back afterward.” NarrAy took both his hands and drew him away from the door. “Then we're going to talk about that commitment you wanted. You get some rest.” She put a kiss on her fingertips and pressed them against his mouth.
Too dazed to say anything, he just stood there as she swept past him and out. When the door shut, he stared at his reflection a moment before realizing he was standing there with his mouth hanging open. He shut it.
“Yes!” Senth pumped both fists in the air. “Fftt-fftt sha kee!” He did a slide-step dance across the floor, whirled around on one foot, and danced back. Whipping off his cloak, he tossed it across the bed and danced with his reflection. Arms outflung, head back, he spun around and laughed aloud.
At the Mercy of Her Pleasure Page 8