Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine

by Jeanne G'Fellers

  “Lay them on the table. I’ll get to them in a while.”

  “No, Belsas, read them now!” Rona thrust a recorder into her hand.

  “All right.” Belsas, puzzled by her assistant’s odd behavior, flicked the recorder on and read the report while Rona waited. “Is there a fast frigate in orbit?” Belsas handed back the recorder.

  “The Predator is in the orbital docks for routine maintenance,” replied Rona.

  “Bel, what is it?” queried Chandrey.

  Belsas raised a hand for her to wait. “Have it readied. We’ll launch up after the Council meeting late tonight.” Belsas turned to Krell. “Is it possible for you to contact LaRenna today?”

  “It would be extremely dangerous.” Krell’s heart skipped one beat then another.

  “Wait until morning then. When you see her next, take her and Healer Wileyse directly into orbit. I want all Taelachs off Langus. That’s an order.” Belsas’s arms opened to receive Chandrey. “The Iralians are massing on the truce line. At last estimate, the largest of their ships, the Blackmore, will cross the line tomorrow morning.”

  Fear contorted Chandrey’s slender hands into pale knots. She watched Rona exit the room then flew into her mate’s arms, trembling with mother instincts for her child. “Tomorrow is the deadline for the High Council to concede to the demands of the Langus Cause!” she cried. “What’s going to happen?”

  “Nothing good, I’m certain. We must go to Langus to thwart whatever is unfolding. Our people, the Sarian system demands it.” Belsas made a quick, severe gesture to Krell. “LaRenna’s post did not cover this variable and is hereby withdrawn. Retrieve her at first dawn. The post’s risks far outweigh any reward.”

  “My brother is here, too.” Krell’s eyes were wide to the upcoming events. “Let me arrange for him to transport off with us, please.”

  “I’d forgotten you were Aut raised. Do what you need, just be in orbit with LaRenna when we arrive. Belsas out.” She shut off the screen and looked grimly down at her lover. Chandrey was in need of her reassurance, but duty also called, and, after a moment’s soothing the call became overwhelming. “Help me into my dress uniform, Chandresslandra.” Belsas pushed away. “The Council will be waiting.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The only good Taelach is a dead, burned, and ash-scattered Taelach.

  —Autlach quote

  “Why do I always get the grunt work?” Brandoff carted LaRenna’s limp body up to the living quarters. Cance followed behind, whistling, LaRenna’s slippers and skirts tucked under her arm.

  “ ’Cause you beat her half to death, that’s why.” Cance puckered to resume the tune then paused, her mouth flattening in brief contention. “She would’ve responded better if you hadn’t kneed her so early on. Next time, I question her alone.”

  “She won’t tell you shit and you know it. You just want a chance to coo over her without me there to laugh.” Brandoff dropped LaRenna close to where Bane lay, frightening him into noiselessness so that Brandoff promptly admonished, “You’re not asleep, old man.”

  Cance tossed the clothing into an empty corner then touched her twin’s blackened eye, somewhat gladdened LaRenna hadn’t made things too easy. It showed strength. Cance adored conquering strength. “Have a look at yourself. She made a proper mess of you.” Brandoff peered in the room’s wall-mounted reflecting board. Cance stood behind. LaRenna had gouged long scratches on their faces and a bite ring was clearly visible between the brands on Cance’s neck. She fingered it gingerly, as if recapturing the moment. “What a woman! Fought the whole way through, prock high and all. Imagine what she’d be like if she was willing. Wild is my bet, how ’bout it, Brannie?”

  “Yeah, I gotta give her credit for linger ability”—Brandoff’s mouth points stretched a little higher—“and delectability. One of the best I ever had—until she passed out. A little while longer would have exhausted me enough for sleep.”

  “I’m there now.” Cance cleaned her scratches with a cloth. “Someone her age, even a Kimshee, shouldn’t have that sense of control. It took everything I had to phase her into submission. Gave me a headache.” Cance surveyed Brandoff’s ruffled appearance then passed the cloth. “Here, doctor yourself then lace back up. You’re leaving nothing to the imagination.”

  Brandoff snorted and took the cloth. “Eh, I’m fine.” She spied her sibling’s disapproving reflection. “And if you think differently, take a snort to clear your senses.” She broke her gaze to glance around the room. “You seen Starnes since we came up? He didn’t sneak out, did he?”

  “If you’d use that head for more than a prock port you’d know where he’s at. He’s hiding in the washroom, scared senseless. Typical Aut, no mind control whatsoever. I hear everything he’s fretting over.” Cance stepped over LaRenna’s sprawled figure and jerked open the washroom door. “Get out here, Starnie.”

  Starnes timidly exited his hiding place holding a small, neatly folded stack of linens. “Just prepping up some clean towels for tonight.” He kept his gaze down. The perfect squares fell from his arms when he saw LaRenna. He gulped and took a backward step. He’d known they’d hurt her, but surely they hadn’t . . .

  “Is she—no!” Black char wafted through the air as he collapsed to the floor. Cance stood over him, bow poised to repeat Brandoff’s attack.

  “She’s not dead, but you’ll be if you don’t listen. We had a visitor while you slept, little man. Said he saw you and a Taelach from the base cozying up at the Food Plaza, the same one Brandoff saw your new barmaid with this morning. You turned us in, you sorry little—”

  “No, I promised. We had a deal!” Starnes held up his hand to ward off the second plasma arrow that scorched through his shoulder. He squealed and drew into a fetal position, sure another blast would be his end.

  “I hate being lied to.” Cance ground her heel into his shoulder. “You knew she was Taelach and you knew we found her out, so why didn’t you run while we were using her?” Cance aimed between his eyes. “My patience is gone, Starnie!”

  “He didn’t leave because of me.” Bane sat up in his bed. “I’m the reason. Now let him be.”

  Brandoff sniffed at the dutiful dedication. “I say we kill them both. They’ve outlived their usefulness.” She aimed at Bane and smiled. “Shame to do away with such an entertaining storyteller.” The bow whined readiness and Brandoff waved goodbye, finger flexed on the weapon’s manual trigger.

  “Stop!”

  Brandoff downloaded and looked at Cance, who pointed to the lower level. Someone was knocking on the Waterlead’s front doors. “I’ll go tell whoever’s there that we’re closed today—family tragedy.” Cance laughed at what she said. “Singe the first one who opens their yap.” Tunic collar high, sleeves unrolled to cover her bow, Cance blinked to replace her Autlach lenses and trudged down the stairs.

  “Sorry.” She cracked open the door. “Family emergency. We’re closed this evening.”

  “Wait!” Trazar Laiman stuck his foot against the doorjamb. “I’m looking for LaRenna. Is she here?”

  “Nope. She took off at closing last night with some stocky man in baggy coveralls. No telling where she is.” Cance tried to push Trazar’s foot from the door, but he held his stance.

  “I see.” The man Cance referred to was one of Trazar’s sentries and second to him in the squadron’s command. They had walked back to the housing compound together so he knew LaRenna wasn’t around. “You don’t know when she’ll be back?”

  “She won’t be.”

  “She quit?” Trazar’s unshaven cheeks sank.

  “No.” Frustration crept into Cance’s tone. “I fired her for propositioning the customers. Once a whore, always a whore.”

  “Oh.” Trazar masked his face into disinterest. He pulled his foot from the jamb, thanked Cance, and strolled toward the Commons. When the Waterlead’s doors swung shut, he backtracked to hunker under an overgrown shrub near the main entrance. He had been lied to more than onc
e in the course of that short conversation and intended to find out why.

  “Damn Aut men.” Cance climbed the stairs two at a time. “Always after a piece.” LaRenna stirred when her footfalls neared the top. “She awake?”

  “Sort of.” Brandoff snapped at LaRenna’s bare legs with one of Starnes’s discarded towels. “I had to shove a rag in her mouth to stop her confounded moaning.” Brandoff aimed again at Bane. “Now, where was I?” She turned to Starnes. “Here?” Then she bounced back to his father. “Or maybe here?”

  “If you must kill one of them then make it Starnie,” said Cance. “We’ll pour our own drinks tonight.”

  “No!” pleaded Bane from his bed. “I’m already dying. Spare him and take me.”

  “You served as a military medic, old man. I need you to treat this one’s wounds. Here, look her over.” Cance pulled LaRenna within his reach. Her underskirts bunched at the waist as she was moved, revealing a series of bloody streaks that stretched down her inner thighs. Seeing them, Cance glowered at Brandoff. “You idiot! Look at this! I told you not to be so rough. Dammit, you could have killed her!”

  “I wasn’t that rough!” protested Brandoff, sounding more insulted than concerned. “And I didn’t do anything to cause that, not when I laid her, leastways. It must be from the knee to the stomach.” Apathetic at best, she aimed squarely at Starnes. “This is becoming tiresome. Any last words for your dah?”

  “NO!” called Bane. “Murder him and I won’t treat the woman. She’ll bleed to death where she lies.”

  “The old fool isn’t so foolish after all.” Brandoff’s high had worn until she squinted. “Well, Cancelynn?”

  “Tie Starnes while I get some bandages for the not-so-foolish one to use,” she replied. “We can’t have our trophy dying before we have the opportunity to show her off.” She turned to Bane. “Aren’t we making a speedy recovery? Brought you medicine, didn’t she?”

  “Does it matter?” Bane frowned, brushed the hair from LaRenna’s face, and quickly evaluated the extent of her most obvious injuries. “I need some hard liquor.”

  “Sounds good to me but I suggest you try wine first.” Brandoff secured Starnes’s arms behind his back. “Your stomach is probably weak.”

  “He doesn’t want to drink it, you half-wit!” Cance replied angrily. “He needs to cleanse the girl’s cuts. Go get some.”

  “Uh!” Brandoff stomped down the stairs. “Do this, Brandoff. Now, Brandoff. Who the fuck named you Mother Maker?”

  “I’m self-appointed so hurry before I choose to end that sorry excuse you call a life!” Cance watched Brandoff’s tangled mop of hair disappear then turned back to Bane, hesitant to hear his diagnosis. He’d removed the cloth from LaRenna’s mouth and was smoothing out the remains of her skirts. She groaned, fighting him weakly as he rebuttoned her shredded top.

  “What did you do to this child? I heard her scream until her voice went.”

  “More than I intended.” Cance stooped by LaRenna’s side. “She fought everything we did. Things became heated. Is she bleeding badly?”

  Bane pushed on LaRenna’s torso until the touch provoked a loud cry. “I don’t believe she is, but a fair number of her ribs are broken. We’ll need to bind them.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Keep your maniac twin away from her. One more hard blow could drive one of those loose ribs into something vital. Remember that if you want her to live.”

  “Oh, I do,” assured Cance. “And not just so I can use her like I already have. I like her spirit.” She pointed to the dried clots. “What about this?”

  “Normal female cycle.”

  Cance startled then stared at him. “Taelachs don’t have cycles. We’re sterile. Everyone knows that.”

  “This one does. I’ve outlived two wives and have four daughters. That’s enough experience to know what the normal cycle smells and looks like.”

  “Can you stop it?” Brandoff stood at the top of the stairs, a bottle of clear liquor and two wine crystals in her arms.

  “Do you lose your senses every time you fuck while laced?” Cance absently fingered LaRenna’s hair. “Of course you can’t stop it. It’s a natural function.” She smiled down at LaRenna. “You’re more valuable than ever, my beloved. You’re breedable. Just imagine what they’ll pay to get you back—if I give you back at all.”

  Brandoff handed Bane the liquor and took the crystals to the room’s only chair, settling into it and glaring at the object of Cance’s affection. Bane poured a little of the spirits on a cloth and gently cleansed the bloody patches on LaRenna’s face until she became alert enough to object. She coughed and gasped as the alcohol burned her open flesh, making her painfully aware of her broken ribs, her foot, her hurt all over.

  “Where am I?” The question was no more than a rustle in her throat.

  “With me, bitch.” Brandoff had dosed while downstairs. LaRenna struggled to find the location of her voice, found Cance first, and swung out with all her might, collapsing back against Bane when her ribs shifted within her.

  Keep still. Cance’s mental tone was as soft as the pain-relievingphase LaRenna immediately threw from her mind. Very well, my love. Cance pushed away. “Hurt if you insist, just let us treat you.”

  Bane held her head firmly to finish cleaning the worst from her face and neck. “Shhh,” he whispered when she protested. “Let me clean you up a little.” Then he took her hand and carefully examined the broken finger. “What else did you find necessary to break on this child?”

  “Just her ankle.” Brandoff sounded proud of the way LaRenna winced in response. “Cance did it and her finger. I’m the one who busted her ribs. In just one blow, I might add.”

  Bane remained unimpressed. “Good for you. I’m sure you’re proud of your conquest over such a superior-sized enemy.”

  Brandoff flung her boot knife into the wall above Bane’s head, skimming brittle white hairs from his scalp. “Bite your tongue, old man, or you won’t have one to chew.”

  Bane ignored the threat. “I need splinting material for the finger and ankle.” LaRenna lay perfectly still in his arms, listening. She was too weak for an effective phase and too winded from her recent movement for anything more.

  Cance nodded then disappeared into the next room, returning momentarily with a small bundle. “This should be enough. I even found a needle and gutting thread for that gash Brandoff left in her jaw.”

  “It does need stitching.” Bane felt increasingly weak from the exertion but kept his pace. He had to look after LaRenna. She had, after all, done the same for him. “First the ribs. Sit her up and we’ll wrap them.” He pulled Brandoff’s knife from the wall and began to slice the light coverlet on his bed into long strips.

  “I hope you plan on returning that.” Cance drew onto the floor beside LaRenna.

  “I have an option?” Bane raised his head to look at her. “My only concern is for my son and the girl. Sit her up.” He handed the knife to Cance, handle first, who returned it to Brandoff.

  Cance looped under LaRenna’s arms and pulled her to a sitting position.

  “Gently!” snapped Bane.

  “That’s as gentle as I get!” Cance snapped back. “Now what?”

  “Help me wrap these strips around her gut. Snug but not too tight. She has to be able to breathe.” LaRenna’s expression pulled Cance’s attention from the task.

  “Your eyes deceive you.”

  “Do they suggest loathing?” asked LaRenna.

  “No, my love, fascination. You are trying to figure me out.”

  “Only so I can kill you.”

  “Such anger so soon in the relationship?” Cance laughed. “It’s far too early for that. Relax, LaRenna, and let us treat you.”

  “Why, so you can prock-lace me again?”

  “Smartmouth.” Cance appreciated the argument. “You have an appealing edge to you.” She wrapped LaRenna in a hug, placing a pair of light kisses to the side of her
head before LaRenna could wriggle away. “Next?” She looked at Bane.

  “Set her finger.” Bane closed his eyes in concentration on his long ago training. “Feel to see if the fracture is at the joint.” Cance grasped the injured hand and pressed on the finger. LaRenna squirmed but couldn’t pull away.

  “It’s the joint.”

  “Good. It will be easier to set. Pop it into place and splint it.”

  “Sorry, m’lady,” Cance soothed with a light touch to LaRenna’s face. “But this is going to hurt.” LaRenna yelped as the finger popped back into place.

  “You bawl like a kicked animal, you stupid cunt.” Brandoff laughed between pulls from one of the crystals. “I think I heard that same sound when we were downstairs. Remember what I was doing when you made it? I do. I was—”

  “Stop it.” LaRenna shook violently against Cance, quaking with rage and fear she could not contain. “She’s too bad off for your ranting.”

  “Why should I care? She’s nothing more than a toy for us, or can’t you see that anymore?”

  “She’s a hostage I plan to keep alive as long as necessary. I won’t have her dropping off because of your blasted mouth. Her heart all but jumped from her chest when she heard your voice.” Cance wondered how much of the shaking was actually from the mental attack and how much was Brandoff’s doing. “She’s terrified of you.”

  “It’s the prock,” retorted Brandoff. “She’s crashing.”

  As the panic subsided and her mind cleared, LaRenna discerned a sick sense of pride exuding from Brandoff’s warped mind. Brandoff honestly enjoyed the pain she inflicted on others. It soothed away some of the agony of her own complicated life. Like the drug she was so reliant on, it made her forget. Cance’s emotions were evident too, differing from Brandoff’s though just as intense. They were a disturbing mix of obsessive affection and erotic desires directed toward LaRenna. She found pleasure in hurting others, but not for the same reasons as Brandoff. Pain was a weapon, a means of effective discipline, a teaching tool. She even used it in the name of love.