Exile

by Julia Barrett

Kyr heard the door to her cabin slide shut. He heard her turn the lock.

  Stubborn woman. No, not woman. You’d do well to remember she’s a Princess of the Blood.

  What if all the legends and stories are true?

  The captain sat back down in the flight chair. What other abilities did she possess? She said she could kill Wyer if she chose to. Kyr didn’t doubt her ability to do just that. What else had she seen? She’d said regardless of her death, the Chief would betray him.

  If the stories were true, it was no wonder the Coalition wanted her family dead. If she fell into the wrong hands, even into the wrong hands among the resistance fighters...

  Kyr wondered if her sisters possessed the same powers or if Aja alone was gifted. It was rumored that the power of the Blood passed through the ruling Empress to her daughters, not to her sons, never to her sons.

  Kyr ran a hand through his hair. Aja had been trying to talk to him about something terrible and he’d focused on how much help her ability would be to the Resistance. He’d been so caught up in his own excitement it hadn’t occurred to him how terrified she must be.

  How did it feel to experience your own rape and murder in a man’s mind? To be aware of the many ways she could be used by both sides, the myriad ways her powers could be abused by ambitious men?

  By the Gods he was brainless. He walked to the companionway and stared in the direction she’d gone. He would check on the Chief’s whereabouts and when he was certain they couldn’t be overheard, he’d speak with her. And he’d apologize for behaving like a boorish, insensitive, stupid, heedless darrok.

  She was crying, damn it all to hells. Aja leaned back against her locked door. She refused, absolutely refused, to probe the captain’s mind. She hoped he would help her. If not, then she would kill Wyer and vanish, coin or no coin. She could easily steal whatever she needed to survive. That would be the best solution all around.

  The captain had recognized her for what she was‌—‌power‌—‌for whomever controlled her or controlled the people she cared about. He might inadvertently turn her over to something worse than the Coalition. She’d seen that very real possibility among the many possible futures before them.

  Idiot. I may as well be smoking cabba.

  Living hand to mouth on this rock was not one of her destinies. It made her wonder, not for the first time, exactly how much control she had over the events in her life.

  She’d seen the many paths before her, but choosing the right path? That had always been the question. Sometimes events unfolded in such a way it seemed as if her path had already been laid out and there was no choice about it. Doors to the future were so numerous that if placed end to end they would stretch almost to the edges of the universe.

  Regardless of their number, Aja often felt as if she was destined to open certain doors.

  She shook her head, trying to alter the direction of her thoughts. Aja knew the history of her Blood. Other women like her, ancestors with her power, had been locked away before they died. Not a pleasant way to spend one’s days. Perhaps death by virus would have been kinder.

  Well, action was a good way to vanish her doubts. There was no time like the present to kill a man. Wyer was weak. She’d have no trouble luring him away from the ship.

  Aja walked to her bunk and pulled the coverlet aside. She reached beneath the pad, into the small slice she’d made in the bottom. She removed the largest surgical knife and stashed it in the pocket on the front of her trouser leg. Too bad she didn’t have any underclothes. The knife would be safer in her binder.

  She headed for the door, but her steps slowed. She had to give Wyer enough time to finish the repairs. She couldn’t get rid of the man until he’d completed his work.

  Aja wanted to smack herself. What a cold hard bitch she truly was. She ripped the scalpel out of her pocket and hurled it across the room. The blade stuck in the soft saffawood chest. Her mother had taught her to be patient. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

  Aja lay down on her bed and closed her eyes. She allowed her mind to drift, tuning out distractions, searching for Coalition ships, for the militia, for a transport, anything. She searched for safe passage off this Gods forsaken place.

  DAUGHTERS OF PERSEPHONE

  “The woman needs to die,” said the Chief. “She’ll get us killed.”

  Captain Aram sat behind his desk. He’d handed the Chief his half-share of the coin. Aram raised his eyebrows, but otherwise kept his face expressionless. The man was as clear about his position as Aja had been about hers.

  “Look, whoever is paying for her, this third party, he has no idea we actually got her. For all he knows, we did fry in the upper atmosphere, if he even knows that much. What is she, anyway, some rich fucker’s ishat? With the amount he offered, he can buy two or even three women. Just tell him she didn’t survive. She was killed during the escape. Bring the corpse to prove it. She’ll get us killed, Captain. I swear it. If you don’t want to finish her, then let me take her out into the desert and drop her. I’ll do it. You can keep your hands clean and nobody’s the wiser.”

  Kyr forced himself to relax his clenched fists. If the son of a whore doesn’t shut up, I’ll gut him right here. “She stays and we deliver her as promised.” He changed the subject. “How are the repairs coming?”

  He watched the Chief purse his thin lips in disgust. “Be done by tomorrow, late afternoon or early evening. But, uh, I need a few more parts. I saw a supply depot not too far away, no guards. I can take the bird and pick them up.

  Isn’t that what Aja had said? Wyer would claim he needed to take the bird to pick up a few spare parts? Kyr’s respect for the woman grew. “You need Mr. Fedd to go with you for protection?”

  “Nah, should be a quick job. I noticed the stuff sitting free and clear the other day when we were scouting for gravity skin. I’ll get Davi started on the repairs and then I’ll take off. Be back in no time to finish the job and we can get the hells out of here. The sooner that woman is off the ship, the better I’ll feel.”

  “She’s valuable cargo. Remember that, Mr. Wyer. We’ll make as much money on this one transport as we make in an entire year.”

  “Ain’t hardly worth it,” Wyer muttered.

  “Keep it to yourself.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Chief Wyer left the captain’s quarters, closing the door behind him.

  Bloody murderous bastard.

  Aja was correct. The man had to die. And he would have to kill him. Kyr wasn’t about to let a woman do his dirty work even if she was capable of it. Kyr suspected Aja was more than capable.

  He walked over to his bunk and pulled his pistol from beneath the pillow, checking to see that every chamber was loaded. He hoped the depth of the ravine would muffle the sound. A laze would be silent, but the weapon would leave a power signature. He could use a knife, but that was messy, unpleasant work. Kyr didn’t want the man to suffer. He just wanted him dead as quickly and as neatly as possible.

  Fuck Wyer for forcing his hand like this.

  Kyr slipped the gun back beneath his pillow and tossed the coverlet over the top. He noticed a dark rust-brown stain on the bed clothes. It looked like blood. Kyr ran his fingers over it, pulled the material to his nose and inhaled. He tasted a metallic tang in his mouth. Blood.

  It was blood, the smell was unmistakable. His? Had he bled when Aja injected the antidote? Yes, from the site on his shoulder, but it had bled for just a moment, no more. And it had only been a drop or two. Kyr lifted his sleeve. He saw nothing. The site of the injection had healed over. It wasn’t even red. Besides, he’d been leaning against his desk when she’d given him the antidote and he hadn’t crawled into bed until several hours later.

  He pulled the coverlet from the bed and checked the sheet for more red stains. A small amount of blood had seeped through and dyed a portion of the sheet a pale scarlet.

  Kyr gave himself the once over. Other than a few bruises, he hadn’t been injured during their esca
pe.

  Well, it wasn’t important. What was important was an overdue conversation with the Princess. And his abject apology.

  Aja heard a soft tap on her door. For a moment she was incapable of responding. Her mind had drifted far and wide, seeking a solution to their predicament. She sensed that although there was doubt within the Coalition forces about their survival, there was indeed a battleship waiting for them, and a search was underway. Fortunately, the militia had begun the search on the far side of the planet and she’d noted that it was merely a half-hearted effort. She could only pick up two infrared signatures.

  The commanding officer was convinced their ship had burned up on entry. He was merely trying to appease his superior. That boded well for them.

  The tapping sound came again and Aja roused herself. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and pushed herself to a sitting position.

  She read the heart of the man standing on the other side of the door.

  “Enter.”

  “You’ve locked the door,” said the captain, his voice a whisper.

  “Oh...”

  Aja stood on shaky legs and wove her way to the door. She flipped the bolt and Captain Aram stood before her. She realized he wished to enter so she moved aside. He slid the door closed and slipped the bolt into place.

  “I need to speak with you, Aja. I want to—” He stopped talking and stared at her. “What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”

  The man reached for her arm and she collapsed against him. “What the hells? You’re drenched in sweat. Do you have the virus? Did they infect you?” He shook her. “What’s wrong with you?”

  The captain helped her to her bed and made her sit. He grabbed a jug of water and held it to her lips. “Just tell me how much antidote to inject. I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

  Knowing she was dehydrated, Aja sipped the water. She shook her head. “It’s not the virus. I’ve been…” She met his eyes. “I’ve been scanning, seeking a path for us. I’m not experienced at this. I’m not as well trained as I could be and it can be exhausting. So sorry, Captain Aram. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  The captain sat by her side in silence, watching her drink. For a few moments, he said nothing. She handed him the empty water jug and he set it aside.

  “You were right,” he said. “I owe you an apology. I doubted you and I’m sorry. My only defense is that it’s very hard to believe in a myth come to life. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “I also see your dilemma. Anyone who controls you wields immense power. With such power, it would be difficult to remain an honorable man. I understand that now.”

  Aja laid her hand over his. “Our ancestors said absolute power corrupts absolutely. In this, they were very wise. Even the Resistance, despite its lofty goals, could use me for a terrible purpose. You see, Captain Aram, I am an abomination.”

  “You are no abomination, Aja.”

  “Yes, Captain, I am. Every thousand years, an abomination is born. A woman with, as you say, immense power. The power is always neutral, but the woman is not. She may be good or she may be evil. And the same can be said of those people who surround her.

  “The last abomination, the Empress Calia, was assassinated by her own consort to save the human race. A thousand years before that it was the Empress Lystam, burned at the stake by her followers. You’ve heard the story. It’s told to little children to frighten them.”

  “But the Empress Ya? She was no abomination.” The captain brushed a damp curl away from her forehead. “She saved her people. The stories remind us that we are alive today because she led her followers away from the flames of our ancient home world.”

  Aja’s eyes filled with tears and they spilled down her cheeks. “What if I am not Ya? I have seen myself as both savior and destructor. Both paths are before me and I’m not yet certain how to thread my way through.”

  Captain Aram hesitated for a moment, but then he reached for her. He wrapped strong arms around her and pulled her to his chest, as if she was just a woman and not a Princess of the Blood.

  Caught off guard by his action, Aja’s inner walls crumbled and she clung to him, shaking with sobs.

  For the first time since she’d been kidnapped, she allowed the anxiety she felt over her family’s safety to surface. She relived the terror she’d experienced in the laboratory, strapped naked and helpless to a cold steel table; surrounded by strangers who both feared and hated her and wanted nothing more than to see her dead.

  She grieved for her guard, who although Coalition, had not been a party to the treachery. The man had been slaughtered before her eyes as he fought to keep her safe. He left behind a wife and three children.

  Now, without her mother’s protection, Aja felt like she was being forced to tiptoe her way through a saday minefield. The slightest breath, the weight of a mere feather, could trigger an explosion that would not only destroy her, but everyone and everything in her vicinity.

  “It will be all right. I won’t let any harm come to you.”

  She lifted her head. “I don’t believe you.”

  A corner of the captain’s mouth turned up. His hands were on her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “I promise to keep you safe.”

  Aja stared at the man’s chiseled face, his wide blue-violet eyes. She was suddenly hungry. The captain’s lips looked delicious, full and soft and sensual. Inviting. It was the pull of the Blood Bond and she didn’t want to fight it.

  Kiss me, she thought. Kiss me.

  It wasn’t difficult to read the woman in his arms. She wanted him to kiss her. Her eyes practically begged him. Despite the fire coursing through his veins, Kyr hesitated.

  How did one kiss a Princess of the Blood? Especially when she possessed the power born once every thousand years?

  He nuzzled the top of her head. Aja didn’t feel like a Princess in his arms. She felt like a woman, warm and soft and very willing.

  Kyr desired her. He’d wanted her since they’d fought their way out of the Coalition laboratory, from the moment he’d removed his weave and given it to her so she could cover her nakedness. But he’d been very clear, disciplined. This one woman was off limits to him.

  No common man touched a Princess of the Blood. But just as before, his body didn’t care about limits. He was every inch as hard as he’d been earlier in the day, when she’d watched him in his shower. Hells. It was as if he could hear her thoughts.

  Kiss me.

  “I’m damned for this,” Kyr said, just before his lips touched hers.

  “No more than I,” murmured Aja, her breath warm and sweet against his mouth.

  DAUGHTERS OF PERSEPHONE

  Aja lay in his bunk, safe in his cabin, asleep in his arms. Kyr had left her side only once, to check with Davi and receive an update on the status of the repairs, and to make absolutely certain Chief Wyer had retired to his own quarters. He’d locked Aja’s door with his own master key when he brought her to his room so there would be no mistake. Wyer would assume she slept in her own cabin, alone.

  Davi had agreed to take first watch; Kyr would take second in another turn. The fact that he hadn’t slept didn’t seem to be a problem. Kyr felt wide awake.

  It was the Blood, Aja’s Blood. He’d shared it, they’d shared, and now they were irrevocably linked, bound together for the rest of their days. Aja hadn’t forced him. She’d asked and he’d agreed, knowing that to take a Princess of the Blood as his mate could mean his death.

  Taking the innocence of a Princess of the Blood without consent of the Coalition or the Empress was a rash and dangerous act under the best of circumstances.

  Aja had said her body was her own, her one true possession, to give to whomever she chose. And she’d chosen him.

  He’d accepted her gift.

  Kyr had never lusted after power or fame. He’d preferred to work in the shadows, behind the scenes. No close connections, no complications, no entanglements.

  But something had c
hanged, and he knew it as sure as his heart pounded out a strong, steady rhythm. Now he wanted Aja by his side, the woman, not the Princess. And he wanted her with every fiber of his being.

  She needed his protection. He meant what he’d said. He would protect her. He would keep her safe from everyone who threatened her, Coalition or Resistance.

  Kyr stared at his palm. On the surface there was no sign of what they’d done. The cuts had healed. Inside, he’d sensed a change come over him and he knew now why he’d recovered so rapidly from the virus. She’d given him her blood yesterday to help him regain his strength. That explained the blood stain on his bed.

  He also understood what the Coalition had intended to do, why they’d broken their own commandment against genetic tampering. Women of the Blood were immune to any known disease. The Coalition had intended to use illegal recombinant viral DNA to kill them of natural causes.

  Kyr turned towards Aja where she lay curled onto her side, hands folded beneath her, her breathing even and regular. He drew a gentle finger along the side of her face, reached for a lock of her long, mahogany hair. He pulled the soft curl to his lips and inhaled. She smelled of blood and musk and dust and something else, something he couldn’t quite define. The only thing that came to mind was incense; rich, deep, dark incense. He remembered the priests burning something that smelled similar when he was a child and his mother took him to worship in The House of the Gods.

  Aja’s naked back pressed against his chest and he stirred. Making love with her had been an experience he would never forget. He’d been concerned about hurting her. It always hurt the woman the first time, but she’d used her knife to mingle their blood and he’d gripped her hand tight, pressing their palms together. The Blood enabled him to experience her pain, but she could also experience his pleasure.

  Kyr had never imagined something like this was possible.

  He tightened his arm around her waist. Aja turned in his arms to face him, eyes half open, and she smiled.