Faster, harder, deeper. The orgasm hit him like a firestorm, igniting every nerve, inflaming every vein, engulfing him until he shuddered on the rack of delirious ecstasy, her name torn from him. She clenched against him and screamed, too.
He collapsed upon her sweet, cradling body, still merged, still whole.
Her trembling hands slicked over his back and the gentle touch wrung an exquisite aftershock from him. She shivered beneath him.
As he whispered her name, her voice broke on his.
A septhour later he woke and rolled from her, inwardly cursing his thoughtlessness. He’d been too exhausted to lift a finger, let alone summon the muscle control to leave her—the will-power to leave her.
He rose and went to the shower, letting hot water pummel him. When he left the bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, he detoured to his den for the gift he’d made her—the Nullifying pendant. Ship and Samba had dug out a fancy little square box from somewhere. He walked into the bedroom and laid it on the bedside table.
She’d curled up, looking small, innocent. Vulnerable. Shadows lay beneath her eyelids. A scar on her ankle from her escape from the earth fault marred her skin.
Fear squeezed his guts at his terror for her this morning. Almost killed! And he’d been helpless to stop it. Impotent to help her. Even more useless now that he’d been accused of attacking her.
He wouldn’t lose her. That confrontation she’d had with Bucus before JudgmentGrove was her death warrant. Ruis understood that even if Ailim didn’t. His uncle wouldn’t give up.
Ruis looked at his own hands, remembering being under the control of Bucus: the lashes, the burns, the razorslits. Cold fury burned inside him. He couldn’t leave Ailim to his cruel and merciless uncle. Bucus would soon find some way to kill her, especially with Menzie still in D’SilverFir Residence.
The only sure way to keep Ailim safe was to eliminate Bucus.
The coldness of fear and fury transformed into heat, storming fiery through his veins until his mind seemed light. It burned everything he’d known before—all his restraint and hesitations in not challenging Bucus.
Ruis wasn’t running anymore. He wasn’t letting the corrupt older man’s power stop him.
He went to the closet where he’d stowed the weapon he’d restored—a lazergun.
Ailim woke to the sounds of Ruis dressing. She stretched luxuriously and laughed. Free. She’d been totally, completely free in her passion, and she knew she’d never forget—she’d take the experience and use it to be freer in the other aspects of her life.
She turned her head to see Ruis buckling on a strange-looking holster, and all her cheer fled. She licked her lips, found her voice as he handled an object that could only be a weapon. “What are you doing?”
He glanced up, grim-faced. Fierce battle glittered in his eyes. “I’m going to take care of Bucus.”
“We’ll clear your name.”
“It’s not my name I’m worried about. It’s your life!” he gritted out.
Ailim heard her heart thud-thud-thud in her ears as if counting the beats until certain doom. “I’m fine. I’m safe now and will continue so. I’ll buy additional spells, hire a Holly body-guard. Going after Bucus isn’t the right way to handle this.” She found her clothes and donned them with trembling hands. Dread filtered through her.
He snapped the weapon into the holster at the side of his left thigh. “I can’t wait any longer. He sent a man to murder you today. Going after Bucus is the only way. I get him and throw him in the brig and he’s no longer a threat to you. As long as he’s free, you’re in danger. I want to protect you.”
Desperation made her words sharp. “And you’re in danger every moment you’re here in Druida! Every risk you take outside the Ship can lead to your arrest and execution. Your—our—discovery is only a matter of time! Listen to me. I’ve initiated the legal case against Bucus. It will only take a few days before he’s in gaol. Leave Druida for a few days until he’s captured, you be safe. That way it’s legal, it’s done right, we win forever.”
“No.” His smile was wry yet tender. “We value each other more than ourselves.”
“You won’t go?”
“I won’t run and abandon you to Bucus’s cruelty.”
Dread escalated until she could hardly breathe, hardly think. “I want you to leave and let me handle this by law. You want to protect me and handle it by force—kidnapping and vigilantism. You won’t run but you’ll skulk and kidnap and hide!”
He flinched, but his gaze stayed grim and steady. “I’ll do what needs to be done. He’s gotten away with too much already.”
“Let me take care of this, please!”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You can’t do it, especially not in a couple of days,” he said brutally.
Knifelike-pain stabbed and twisted. She stopped herself from swaying, stiffed her knees as she felt the blood drain from her face. “What?”
“Bucus is the Captain of the Council. He has all the power. All the nobles will back him. Nothing you can do will bring him down.”
“Even now T’Ash is doubting him. So are others of the FirstFamilies. I’ve started proceedings—”
Ruis shook his head. “We don’t have the time. I won’t delay when you’re in danger.”
“We don’t have the time not to do this right. We do it wrong and we could lose!”
“So we do it my way.” He patted his weapon.
“I can’t,” Ailim said. “I can’t condone you kidnapping him. It’s not solely justice at stake, it’s honor. It’s believing in life and having faith that universal truths will triumph. More, don’t you see? It’s not that it hurts Bucus, and puts you and the Ship and Samba in danger. It hurts you, too. This action harms your soul.”
He stared at her. “You’re too much a lady. I don’t care about the state of my soul if your life is safe.”
She hurled herself at him, grabbed his biceps in both hands. “I promise, I promise that the law will get Bucus in two days.
I’ll make sure of it!” Her mind scrambled at how she could do it right, but she knew she could. If she called in every favor she’d been hoarding to use to the benefit of her Family, she could have Bucus in jail in two days. “Just hide here, deep in the Ship, where only you know where you are. Let the Ship protect you for two days and I’ll get him for us. For us!”
“He’ll twist your words or laugh at your case or slide free or escape. Then he’ll come after you with all the cruelty and power and evil that is in his rotten soul. I can’t risk that, risk you.”
She just stared at him. “So what it comes down to is that you don’t trust justice.”
“There’s no such thing as justice.”
Her breath came fast, her palms sweat. “You don’t trust the law as I do.”
“You could afford to trust in the law—until now.”
“You don’t trust—”
“I trust myself and the Ship,” he shot back. Then realization jolted in his eyes at what he hadn’t said.
“But not me.”
“Of course I trust you—”
“You have no faith in my skills, in my life work as a Judge, in me. I tell you I can have Bucus in jail in two days, that I can protect myself, and you don’t believe me. What kind of life could we have in the future if you only have faith in yourself and never in me?”
“It’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that.” She twisted her hands together. “Will you trust me to put Bucus in jail in two days?”
He hesitated. His fingers brushed the grip of his weapon. She saw the torment in his eyes, his yearning to believe, but his ultimate lack of faith. His jaw clenched. “I can’t take the risk.”
“You have no hope that we could win against your uncle the right way. No hope we could build a good future together,” she whispered. “I’m leaving.”
In a moment, when she was away from him, she’d be able to banish the tear
s welling in her eyes with a Word. She didn’t know how she would ever mend her shattered heart.
Her last smile for him broke. “The man I loved. Odd how I trusted you, your skill and your knowledge. I had faith in you.”
“Love! Faith? What?”
She shook her head. “Loved, past tense. I trusted you to save my life with those Earth machines. You think that was easy?” She ran. Fast. Down corridors she knew well. She reached the southeast airlock and pounded at the square manual door-opener. The portal slid open and Ailim stepped out into the wind that whipped the tears from her face, the cold gray day and barren park.
“Fligger!” Ruis swore and dropped to sit on the bed. The scent of their intimacy mocked him. He buried his head in his hands. He had to protect her!
“Ship, watch for any threat to Ailim! Call Samba.”
“Ailim D’SilverFir has left,” Ship said in subdued tones.
“Watch her closely.” He’d lost her. A cold clamminess invaded him, wisping from his bones to curl around his heart, sending streamers into his soul. Desperation paced like a ravening monster on the edges of his emotions, waiting to pounce if he lost control.
He’d lost her. Not because of the pressure of outside circumstances. He’d lost her because of who he was.
He saw in his mind’s eye her white face, dominated by huge eyes gone gray, without a hint of blue. Her bleak expression. Trails of unacknowledged tears. The image duplicated another one of Ailim he’d seen before. That Ailim had been dirty, desperate, close to imminent death. She’d tilted her face up to him from a filthy hole where she’d been trapped.
His gut tightened, the beast despair came closer. She’d feared for her foot and her life and her Residence. But she’d shunted aside all that fear to trust in him and his skills in something she’d never experienced.
He hadn’t done the same.
The argument reverberated in his mind.
Two days. In pride and fear he’d refused to give her a simple two days. Why? His hands trembled as he rubbed his eyes. He thought of the morning, her conflict with Bucus, the subsequent attempt on her life. Let his lady battle his nemesis for him? The most cherished person in his life confront the worst evil in his life? Out of the question. Better that he fight and die than Ailim be in the least be-smudged by Bucus. He wanted to keep them apart. Forever.
He walked back into the bedroom. The little box containing his gift stood on the bedside table.
He’d been so proud of himself, fashioning a gift that would give her peace and serenity, surcease from the pressures constantly weighing on her.
Yet he’d forgotten to give it to her.
“Samba!” He yelled it with all the fury, frustration, and desolation he felt. He imagined his voice echoing down the deserted corridors, the empty halls of the past and the future.
Samba and the Ship. Not enough. They’d taught him, made him a better man, but he didn’t feel integral to their well-being—another person could have filled the place in their lives.
Not so with Ailim—and she had given to him as much or more than he’d given to her. More. He picked up the little box containing his gift. His head began to hurt.
Samba whizzed in, scowling. You yell at Me!
He didn’t have time to soothe her feelings. “D’SilverFir may be in danger, follow her. Ride the saucer—”
Samba’s eyes widened. In the day?
“—but fly high and slow, to be as safe as we can.”
She tilted her head. Her whiskers twitched as she considered. I can do. I fly high and slow and safe. Someone threatens, I divebomb. She grinned. One ear angled as she saw the box he held. Why didn’t you give her?
Ruis shook his head, touched the lazergun at his hip. “I planned on kidnapping Bucus.”
Samba snorted. You crazy. Her saucer dipped as she turned and flew away.
He took the weapon off and stowed it in the closet. He had to go after Ailim. It was the only way he could convince her that he did trust her, did believe in her.
He’d doubted her and his past and pride had demanded that he only rely on himself. If he wanted her, he had to put his—their—future in her hands.
He should let her go. Associating with him could cost her everything—her career, her title, her estate, her Family. But he couldn’t deny himself the comfort of her. Having someone care for him was too wonderful. He was too greedy.
His mouth quirked as he mocked himself. He could give up his reckless anger and his vengeance—had given them up and started changing for his own sense of self-worth. He could give up his pride. But he couldn’t give Ailim up—not even if he could convince himself it would be the best thing for her.
He hoped she could forgive him. That she’d give him another chance.
Even if Ailim couldn’t forgive him—if she was wise enough to keep away from him—she deserved the necklace. The gift he created that would provide her with what she most cherished.
“Samba has left,” Ship said.
“How’s she flying?”
The Ship hummed. “My cams can barely discern her. She is flying high to avoid turbulent winds. She does well,” it said grudgingly.
“Good.” Ruis twitched his clothes in order, flung his cloak around himself. His optimism rose—he would win her back, somehow. Time to go claim his lady.
“Ship, do you see D’SilverFir? Did she teleport?”
“She walks with her head down near the reflecting pool in Landing Park.”
“Good.” He rubbed his hands.
Taking the quickest omnivator, he hurried to the airlock exit and pressed the button.
The door rose. Ruis ran toward the reflecting pool.
His cloak whipped from his grip, and he fought it back around him. Too late. A tall, rangy man separated himself from the dimness of a tree trunk.
Ruis stared into dark blue eyes.
“I’m Straif T’Blackthorn.” The man frowned. “You’re Ruis Elder. You don’t look like a deranged and dangerous murderer.”
Ruis froze. He should be trying to think himself out of this fix, trying to talk or run or even fight. But all he could focus on was Ailim. She walked slowly through the park a few meters away.
“I’ve never murdered anyone. I’ve stolen to survive, that’s my only crime.” He paid little attention to his words, let his cloak flap free. He wanted to hasten after Ailim; he never wanted anything more in his life. But he dared not draw attention to her, could not destroy her life. He kept his voice low and looked T’Blackthorn in the eyes, willing the man to concentrate on him.
“I’ve tracked Holm and Tinne Holly to this entrance,” T’Blackthorn said.
Ruis winced.
“You know something about their disappearance?” The man’s voice sharpened.
“They were alive the last time I saw them.” They’d been close to Tory Town this morning.
“My cuzes are alive?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the Null! You, guy, he’s ours! We get the reward!”
Three guardsmen appeared from bushes and tried to shove T’Blackthorn out of the way. With graceful ease and Holly training, T’Blackthorn set two of them on their butts.
Ruis detached and tossed his cloak under a bush to hide it and spun to sink a fist into the third guard’s soft belly.
“Someone wants you bad, Elder,” T’Blackthorn said.
Ruis grinned with all his teeth. “Bucus T’Elder.” From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Ailim staring at them. She stood still for a moment, then her chin lifted and she walked toward them. No! he wanted to cry. He never wished for telepathy more in his life.
“Are the Hollys in Nuada’s Sword?” T’Blackthorn studied him with narrowed eyes.
Ruis met the GrandLord’s gaze and put a hand over his heart. “No. I swear it.”
“Look, guy—” One of the guards grabbed T’Blackthorn. He disengaged with a quick move. And looked at the man. “You may address me at GrandLord T’Blackthorn,” he said.
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“I have business with this man.”
The guard stumbled back, eyes wide. “The tracker.” “No wonder we was told to follow him,” the other guard mumbled.
“What reward?” asked Ruis.
“This here’s Ruis Elder, the thief. He’s in Druida City,” the third guard explained. “That makes him violating his banishment and to be hauled to gaol, or we can execute him. Cap’n of the Council said. Preventing us from doing our duties is a crime. He’s ours. We got chains.” He hauled a heavy black chain clanking from a sack he’d dropped.
Ruis tensed. He’d never wanted to be chained again.
“Is there a problem here?” asked Ailim, joining them.
“It’s the Null’s bitch,” one of the guards said.
Ruis swung and hit him. All the guards jumped Ruis. He took a blow to the head and the gut. Dazed, he struggled as they clamped manacles on his hands and feet. “No, no, not her—” he slurred. A moment later a rag was stuck in his mouth and another tied around his head to gag him.
“This isn’t right!” Ailim cried.
“Sorry, Y’r Ladyship,” one of the guards sneered. “But this here’s a criminal, violating his banishment. Now, you bein’ a Judge, you’d know about that, wouldn’t you, Y’r Ladyship.”
“Yes.” Ailim’s voice was strained.
Pain exploded in his head as someone kicked him.
“Stop that!” Ailim demanded.
“Maybe we will, if you come along nice. Cap’n wants you, too. As for you, T’Blackthorn, there’s five of us now, and one of us has already reported to the Cap’n. By the time we reach the Guildhall a ’mergency FirstFamilies Council’ll be in session. GrandLord, I’d advise you to let us do our job. If ya like, you can take charge of the lady.”
The autumn ground was cold, but the irons were colder than the hard earth and chill enveloped Ruis like a shroud.
“Judge D’SilverFir. Will you accompany me to the Guildhall so we can sort this out?” asked T’Blackthorn smoothly.
Darkness fringed Ruis’s vision. Why couldn’t T’Blackthorn get her out of here?
She should lie, should deny she had anything to do with Ruis, say she’d found him and was planning to do her duty as a judge and turn him in. Whether Straif T’Blackthorn believed her or not, he wouldn’t contradict a FirstFamily GrandLady, not in front of the guardsmen and a despised Null, probably not even in front of the FirstFamilies Council itself.
Heart Thief Page 33