by S. L. Viehl
“As do I.” He lunged, going for an opening I’d left on my right, then looked down to see my blade cutting
into the waistband of his shorts. He whirled out, trying to get behind me. “Payment in kind, Sajora?”
“Eye for an eye. It’s a Terran thing.” I countered the move. “Not getting modest on me again, are you?”
“No.” He came at me again.
The dance changed. We were slashing at each other, forgetting form and defense as we plied our blades
toward the win. Kol struck again at my shoulder, sending the other half of my top drooping down, but I
slid the tip of my blade down his hip, completing the cut I’d made and leaving his shorts hanging from one
buttock and leg.
Breathless but feeling confident I’d win—my undergarment was tighter, and therefore harder to cut off
than his—I pivoted, going for a side pass so I could swipe at his backside from behind.
My knee gave out.
“Shit!” I yelled, wildly throwing out a hand. His left blade slashed across my palm before it
dematerialized, opening a gash from fingers to wrist. Then I went down, hard. “God damn it.”
“Sajora.” He let his blades fall to the floor as he dropped to his knees, hoisting me up, cradling my hand
in his. “Your pardon. Mother of All Houses, I did not mean to harm you.”
“You didn’t. My knee blew.” I bent over, trying to see the damage, and smacked into his chest. “Would
you move—”
“Be still.” His hand caught my chin and forced it up. Heat blazed in his white eyes; then they blurred as his
mouth covered mine.
One vague part of my brain reminded me that we weren’t supposed to be doing this. Then it shut down
as I sank into the kiss. My wet fingers ran up the tense muscles of his arm, smearing his skin with my
blood before I tangled them in his short black hair.
Without lifting his mouth he knocked me over, coming down full weight on top of me, pinning me to the
floor. I curled my legs around his, adjusting my hips until I had his erection pressing against where I
wanted it, where I needed him. When his hand moved down and cupped my breast, I pushed up against
his fingers.
He tore his mouth away. “Sajora—”
“Kol.” I bit at his mouth, catching his lip. “Don’t.”
“I cannot do this.” His white eyes were mere slits, his face as tightly set as his body against mine.
I knew the Jorenians had a lot of formalities about relationships, but we weren’t getting married, and I
had no intention of letting him go without both of us getting some basic satisfaction.
“You can’t do this?” I kissed him, hard, then let go of his hair and reached down between us. With a little
tugging I pushed the wet fabric aside so he could feel the folds of my sex nestled against the hard dome
of his shaft. “Or this?”
“It is wrong.” He rested his brow against mine, his teeth clenched, his entire body still. “Stop this; I cannot
think.”
I shifted my hips so that I rubbed against him. “You’re about to stop thinking altogether.” I brushed my
lips over his cheek, kissed his ear, then rolled until I ended up on top, where I had control of what went
where. “Let me demonstrate.”
“Sexual activity is confined to personal quarters.”
We both froze as the Blade Master materialized right beside us. I felt Kol’s arms tighten around me, and I
sighed. “Great timing.”
Kol lifted me off him and got to his feet, hauling me up at the same time. “Uel.” He handed me my tunic
and trousers, then shielded me from the Blade Master’s gaze with his body as he pulled his on. “Sajora
and I will leave.”
“Go to the infirmary first and have those wounds checked.”
I dressed, trying to resist the urge to take out my blade and stab Uel in the heart. As we moved past him,
the Blade Master held up a glove. “I will speak to you alone, Sajora.”
Kol hesitated, but I waved him out. “I’ll catch up in a minute.” When he was gone, I turned to Uel.
“Well?”
“Dancers should not take mates.”
The Blade Master was giving me advice on my love life. It was too bizarre for words. “And?”
“If you wish to work off your sexual frustration, I would suggest you choose a partner outside your clan.”
“Uh-huh.” I tilted my head to one side. “Like you, maybe?”
He stepped away from me as if I’d suggested something gross. “I do not wish to have relations with you.”
What was it about me and blade dancers, that none of them wanted me? A girl could get a real complex
from that kind of steady rejection.
“So you’ve been watching me every session for the last couple of weeks purely out of aesthetic interest?”
I didn’t wait for a response; it was enough to let him know I knew. “I don’t need or want your advice,
Blade Master, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”
“You and Varena are mirrors of each other,” he said. “If he becomes emotionally involved with you, it will
destroy him.”
The grim prediction made me grow cold. “You’ve got me mixed up with Fayne.”
He made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Fayne is a killer without emotion. You are the daughter
of one.”
I zeroed in on the last part. “You know Kieran that well?”
“I know him by watching you.” He disappeared through a hole that opened, then closed in the wall.
“Wait!” I ran over and tried to find the passage so I could go after him, but there were no seams, and no
panel to access. Furious, I punched the alloy, then went to find Kol.
I caught up with him just outside medical, but he didn’t say a word to me. I was too frustrated and ticked
off at Uel to come up with idle conversation as we went in and were examined by the doc. His cuts were
all minor, but my hand’required sutures.
He stood by the berth as the doctor stitched me up, waiting with the heat still simmering in his eyes.
I wasn’t bad for him. I could take the heat, give it back—and then some. We only needed to clear up the
matter of whether he was Kieran’s son or not.
“Doc, what does it take to do a DNA comparative scan?” I asked as he finished bandaging my palm.
“I can perform the test in a few minutes. Why?”
“Excuse us for a minute, will you?” When he left, I gazed steadily at Kol. “You heard the man. A little
blood, a few minutes; then we’ll know.”
“You mean this test will reveal if we are siblings.” I nodded. “No, Sajora. I will not take it.”
I should have shouted at him, but the look on his face made a knot tighten in my chest. “I need you to do
this for me, Kol. I have to know now. After what almost just happened, I think it’s an imperative.”
“We are kin.” He reached out and brushed his fingertips over the short, curly hair that had grown back on
my scalp. “As to whether we are blood kin, it matters not.”
“How can you say that?” Despite my irritation, all the frustration seemed to drain away inside me. That’s
what he did to me with a single touch. I wanted to turn so I could press my face against his palm, but I
couldn’t look away from his eyes. “Please do this. For my own peace of mind.”
“If we are blood, then what we feel must perish.” His finger sketched a delicate trail over my brow, down
my cheek. “If we are not, then what we feel will perish.”
“If we’re not, it doesn’t have to.”
“You do not wish to bond with me, and I will not force you.”
Fayne is a killer without emotion. You are the daughter of one.
“Okay. You need us to do this Choice thing first; I can do that,” I told him. To hell with what Uel thought.
I touched his face. “If I’ve got to marry you so we can be together, I’ll do it.”
“What of your vow?”
My fingertips went still. “I haven’t taken any that I’m aware of.”
“You said that you would never have children.”
“Kids?” I frowned. “Yeah, well, I don’t want any. I’d be a terrible mother.”
“I am Jorenian, not Terran. Children are why we Choose, Sajora. To bring new life to the path.”
It was my own fault—I’d been very straightforward about my dislike of children. I didn’t want to be a
brood mare; I had better things to do. And what sort of mother would I have made, anyway?
Parenthood simply wasn’t an option.
It wasn’t an option, and still I found myself thinking about it. Having Kol’s child growing inside me, getting
heavy, waddling, writhing as I tried to force it from my body. I looked into his eyes and swallowed hard.
“I guess I could try it and have one,” I said at last. “I mean, everyone has kids, right? I’d probably get
used to having it around after a while.”
He pressed his fingertip against my lips. “You would bear my child, and it would either be deformed
because we are blood kin, or unwanted, like us.”
“You were unwanted,” I shot back. “My mother gave up her family and her friends and her whole life for
me.”
“Perhaps the shame was too much for her, and she ran away.” He grabbed my fist before it connected
with his face. “Why else would she select a place where she would have to hide from everyone for the
rest of her life?”
“She wanted me to be free, instead of becoming an unpaid servant, like the rest of you.”
“She wanted you to be Terran, and she succeeded. But why, Sajora?” He forced my arm down, but held
on to my wrist. “Kalea Raska was a strong woman—intelligent, gifted, and much loved among my
people. Why would she run away to raise her only child on the homeworld of the man who had
dishonored her so?”
“I told you.” I tugged my hand free and rubbed my wrist. “Her HouseClan kicked her out; it’s their fault.”
“What are you hiding from me?”
I refused to answer him.
“Very well, my heart. You may keep your secrets. But know this.” He bent over and brushed his lips
over my brow. “Had she stayed, you would believe in Choice as I do. As all our people do. Kalea
denied you that.”
Out he went.
Something changed in me after that gentle but cruel rejection. I felt almost the way I had right after Mom
died—I didn’t want to eat, sleep, or be sociable. Kol must have said something to the others, because
everyone tiptoed around me, and even Sparky stayed out of my face.
Kol spent more time training outside the clan, but I pretended not to notice. I didn’t talk to him, and I
stayed as far away from him in any situation as possible. It wasn’t because I was angry at him. Blaming
Kol for making me face an unpleasant truth about myself would have been unfair, so I told myself to let it
go—and I thought I had, until one particular sparring match.
Bek had me warm up with Dag, one of the wide-bodied humanoids who had shoved me around over on
second level a few times during Hell Week. He acted like he’d completely forgotten about it, but I hadn’t.
That’s why I wasn’t surprised by what he said when we took our positions.
“Fayne sends her affections,” he told me, flashing his silver band. “She’s offered a bounty for anyone who
can cut up your face.”
“Still won’t challenge me herself, huh? The little skink.” At Bek’s signal, I rolled out of Dag’s attack line,
ducked under his arm, and came up behind him. I pinned his arm, twisting the end of it up behind his
back. With my other hand I sank a blade into his chest. “Did Blondie mention what I’d get if I cut up
yours?”
I broke away as he wrenched free and spun, then slashed my blade across the back of one of his hands,
making contact long enough before the blade went holo to slice through half a dozen tendons and render
his grip useless. One of his tåns fell to the floor, drawing the attention of the other trainees.
I ignored the hoots as I circled him, sizing up his guard, which was sloppy and full of holes. I could have
stabbed him in the chest again at least a dozen times, but I wanted to play with him for a bit longer.
“I’ll hack out your eyes and put them on a cord for her.” His blade whistled past my face, but the tip
missed my cheek by a hair. “She can wear them around her neck.”
I brought up my elbow, knocking his chin up and exposing his throat, which I also slashed. The blade
didn’t go deep enough to nick any arteries, but I liked seeing his flesh part and his blood drip down the
front of his tunic. “Worry about your own throat.”
“Saj,” I heard Bek say behind me. “You are to spar, not toy with him.”
That seemed to infuriate Dag into making a wild lunge at me. Overextended as he was, it was simple to
trip him and knock the last blade out of his hand. I planted a foot on his chest, bent down, and stabbed
him in the implant a second time.
“Don’t kill me!” He looked frantically around for help. “Please, I concede.”
I smiled down at him and raised my blade again. Light glittered on my claws. “Say pretty, pretty please
with sugar on top.”
“Sajora.” Bek hovered at my side. “This is a sparring match, not a challenge.”
“It is.” Dag nodded with terrified little jerks of his head. “We were only supposed to practice moves.”
“This piece of shit promised to carve my eyes out, Trainer.” I sheathed my tån, then brought one of my
claws down until the very tip of it hung a scant millimeter above his right eyeball. “I figure he owes me one
just for making the threat.”
“You have prevailed. Let him go.”
I traced a tiny, invisible circle above his eyes. “I want him to say I prevail. Loud enough for everyone to
hear it.”
He gulped, unable to blink without slicing his eyelid open on my claw; then he shouted, “You prevail; you
prevail!”
“Good boy.” I stepped off him and watched as he scrambled to his feet.
“Dag, report to medical.” The trainer gestured for me to accompany him out of the room as well.
Nalek tried to say something as I strode past him, but I wasn’t interested in more clan nagging.
“I didn’t skip any of the pivots,” I said to Bek as we made a circuit around the quad.
“No, you did not.” He looked up at me. “You heal very fast, for a Terran.”
I regarded my claws, which oddly had not yet retracted. “Blame my bad Jorenian blood.”
“In there.” Bek stopped me by pointing to one of the empty planning rooms the trainers used. When the
door closed, he rubbed a paw over his scarred face. “I should send you back to second level for what
you did to Dag, but we are closing that section soon.”
I sat down on a table and held on to the edge. It was just high enough for me to swing a leg back and
forth. “Do what you have to do, Bek. I’ve never asked you for any special favors.”
“Not even when you hear that I trained your fa
ther?”
I jumped off the table. “You did what?”
“You’ve been asking everyone about Kieran,” he said. “Perhaps it is time you got some answers.”
I hadn’t told anyone Kieran was my father. All Uel knew was that I wanted him to be my first kill as a
dancer. “Who told you that Kieran is my father, Trainer?”
“No one, Saj.” He smiled a little. “You are unmistakably his offspring.”
Was I. “Do you know where he is?”
Bek shook his head.
I didn’t even realize I was going to ask the next question until it popped out of my mouth. “What is he
like?”
“He’s efficient. He learned the no-self discipline before he ever came here.” Bek’s two remaining whiskers
twitched. “He never lost a challenge.”
I waited, but he didn’t add anything else. “And that’s it? He’s a good fighter who never lost? That’s all?”