Seduce Me in Dreams

by Jacquelyn Frank

  The clang of the metal was louder than he would have liked, but as soon as the door swung open, he couldn’t have cared less.

  She was real.

  He would have known her anywhere. The hair alone, spread out in a stream of chocolaty brown, like a rich decadence.

  The fist came out of nowhere. Bronse caught it less than an inch from his throat, back-stepping under the surprising force of it. The second strike came at his now unprotected side, and it hit, sending the soldier careening into the near wall, slamming him against his cracked ribs. Winded, Bronse had to regroup quickly. He met a series of wickedly fast movements, a form of hand-to-hand artistry he was not familiar with, but he still managed to counteract enough to earn himself an opening. The kid, and he realized—with a bit of consternation—that it was a very young man, was damn fast and made sure he did not let Bronse touch his bare skin. But Bronse did finally grab him by his soiled tunic front and shoved him into the stone wall with force enough to stun him, his forearm pressed firmly against the kid’s windpipe.

  “Relax, kid! I’m not here to hurt you!” he hissed, realizing that the young man was certainly not a guard, dressed the way he was. Bronse looked past strands of sand-and-gold blond hair as they hung over defiant hazel eyes. After a beat, those eyes went wide with shock, and then, strangely, a desperate relief.

  “Great gods, it’s you,” he rasped against the pressure of Bronse’s arm. “I was … I should have known she was right! It just took you so long! Where the hell have you been?”

  Bronse blinked at the angry, accusatory tone. He noted that the fight had left the kid’s body, in spite of his very obvious fury for Bronse’s supposed tardiness. The commander stepped back and carefully let the young man go. Then he completely dismissed him and swung around to the sole focus that had brought him there.

  Ravenna.

  He strode across the room to the pallet lying on the floor and quickly knelt beside her.

  And that was when the full impact of what she was suffering hit him.

  “What the hell happened to her?” he growled in rough demand, setting down his weapon and yanking off his gloves as he turned on the other man with fury blazing in his eyes.

  “They beat her!”

  “I know that!” Bronse barked, laying the back of his hand against her burning face. His distressed gaze raked down her swollen back, the wounds oozing blood and pus. “No one tended her after?” he demanded.

  “This is a prison! They don’t give a damn about those things!”

  Bronse’s response was to swear, making the younger man’s eyes go wide in awe. Kith, having been raised in the sanctity of a temple, would never have dared say a single one of those words, never mind link them together.

  “She didn’t look this bad when I saw her. I had no idea,” Bronse said, confusing Kith with the strange statement. “Ravenna?” Bronse leaned over her, his breath brushing her perspiring cheek, her fevered heat striking him like a desert wind. “Ravenna, I’m here.” He reached out and stroked his fingers through her wet hair. “Ravenna?”

  Bronse couldn’t believe she was real, that he was actually touching her. He was almost afraid it was a dream and he would wake up. But as the thought struck him and she yet remained, he knew it wasn’t a dream. The fact that she was gravely ill was no illusion, either. His eyes swept the cell, the scant water in a bowl, and the bloodied cloths.

  “You’re her brother.” He wasn’t asking, and he did not turn to face Kith. “My name is Commander Bronse Chapel. I’m with the Interplanetary Militia, and I’m here to lend assistance. How long has she been this way?”

  “I think it started soon after they did it. They kept me from her until they thought to use me to tend her. The ignorant bastards didn’t give me anything to help.”

  “You did your best. She’ll be all right. We’ll see to that.”

  “We?”

  “Yup, we.”

  Kith and Bronse both swung around to see Justice leaning with saucy aplomb in the door frame, wiggling fingers of greeting at him. Ender and Lasher were squeezing past her and entering the cell.

  “What’s up, sir?” Lasher asked quickly, settling onto a knee beside him.

  “Got your kit?”

  “Aye.”

  Lasher fished out the first-aid kit and Bronse opened it. He hesitated long enough to send Lasher a puzzled look when he saw the contents. Lasher just shrugged. “I had a gut feeling,” he said dismissively. He took back the enhanced kit and began to load the first hyperspray. He reached to touch it to Ravenna’s neck. “Jet said this should be compatible with most of Ebbany’s species. It’s a cocktail of antibiotics and a vitals stabilizer.” Lasher’s jade eyes swept over the raw exposed back of the woman before he finally injected her, a deep frown playing over his features. “That’s a topical desensitizer,” he said with a nod toward a spray. “Hold it three inches above the wounds and spray her liberally. She’ll need it if you plan on taking her with us.”

  Bronse’s lips quirked. Lasher hadn’t even bothered to ask. He’d simply known that Ravenna was not to be left behind, even though it was highly irregular and against standing orders to rescue civilians during a mission unless specified. Bronse reached for the spray and applied it.

  “The kid’s coming too,” he said simply.

  “Figured” was the even simpler reply.

  “I’m not a kid” came the disgruntled protest from behind them. But when Bronse looked over his shoulder, Ravenna’s brother had eyes only for his sick sister and the care she was finally getting.

  Ravenna moaned softly, and Bronse’s head whipped around. He leaned over, pushing Lasher out of the way, and brushed his fingers over her cheek.

  “Ravenna?”

  Her eyes cracked slightly, and then they fluttered open, revealing weary topaz and fevered browns. But when she saw him, her beautiful mouth spread into a generous smile.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice dry and rasping.

  “Hey,” he greeted in return, smiling himself.

  “You made it,” she noted.

  “More or less,” he said with a chuckle.

  She looked up and around, taking in his crew.

  “You stayed together,” she said, sighing with relief. “I’m so glad.”

  “Yeah. All alive and well so far, though it was close a couple of times,” Bronse told her, ignoring Lasher’s gaze as it narrowed on him in suspicion. “Ravenna, sweetheart, we’re going to have to move you now. We can’t stay here any longer. There’s danger.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Honey”—he gritted his teeth together an instant—“it’s going to hurt like a bitch. Worse even. But we’ve numbed you. Just … tell us if you need to stop, because we can’t have you crying out, okay? Do you want me to knock you out? We could carry you, but you’d be deadweight and—”

  “No. I want to stay awake. I want to walk.”

  Bronse doubted that was possible. Not over so many miles when she was so sick. He looked to Lasher with his indecision. His second shook his head once sharply.

  “You have to narc her, Bronse. She won’t be able to take it. Hell, I’m not sure I would be able to take it. I’d say maybe if she didn’t have the fever and all that swelling, but there’s no way to carry her without putting pressure on the wounds, and she’ll be screaming.”

  “No! I need to help you!” Ravenna begged him, reaching to grasp his hand. “I can help you.”

  “Rave.” Kith came around to kneel by her head, whispering in her ear. “Rave, let them do it. You can’t help when you’re this sick. You’d never be strong enough.”

  “There is danger,” she argued hoarsely. “Soon. Don’t put me to sleep.”

  “What about a nerve blocker?” Bronse asked suddenly. “On the back of her neck. Numb her from the neck down. We’ll help her and she’ll stay aware. That’s what you need, right, Ravenna? You want to stay aware? To warn us if you need to?”

  “Yes,” she said with a sigh
. “Yes. And to help.”

  “Do it,” Bronse commanded Lasher. He grabbed his gloves and jerked them on. He disposed of the narc patch on the palm of his glove, clicked his sidearm into its holster. “What’s your name, kid?” he demanded of the boy.

  “Kith.”

  “Well, Kith, are you strong enough to help me carry your sister?”

  “Of course,” he scoffed.

  “Over fifteen miles?”

  “Sure,” the younger man said stubbornly. “No problem.”

  “Fine. Same rules for you. Not a sound. If you need to stop, you say so and we trade off. No heroics.”

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  “Sir,” Lasher interrupted, “we could move faster if you and Ender—”

  “Ender needs his hands free for munitions. I need you on point and Justice watching our backs. Final orders, Lieutenant Commander,” Bronse said shortly when Lasher looked like he was going to protest. “Ender, dump those guards in here. Go down the corridor and take out the guard making rounds. Maybe if we can keep the alarm from being raised, it’ll make it easier for us.”

  “Gotchya, Boss.”

  Ender faded back down the hall a minute later and Justice watched him go. She also watched the corridor for movement as Lasher moved behind Ravenna and helped Bronse and Kith pull her to her feet.

  “You can’t feel your legs, but you can move them if you focus,” Lasher told her. “But let the guys do most of the work.” Lasher looked at Bronse, concern in his eyes. “She’s in bad shape, and we got some seriously bad miles to go. The wilderness and desert are crawling with activity.”

  “Any suggestions?”

  “I have one, sir.” Justice stepped up. “We can remotepilot the ship, making them think we left. We can then bring it down deep into the wilderness due east from here. It’ll be a longer, rougher trek, though. We’d have to make it a good fifty miles in if we expect the ship’s return to go unnoticed by the enemy.” She paused a beat. “Or I could go back to the ship alone and pilot to a rendezvous poi—”

  “No!”

  Bronse and Ravenna chorused the countermand harshly, shocking the others in the room.

  “No separation,” Ravenna insisted.

  “Ravenna’s right. We stick together,” said Bronse.

  Ravenna gasped then, lifting her head.

  “Ophelia,” she croaked. “We can’t leave her, Kith! Vivienne and Devan … all the others! If we escape, they will—” she gasped in breathless panic.

  “Ravenna, take it easy!” Bronse tried to soothe her, reaching to cup her face as she swayed on her feet.

  “No! No separation!” she gasped. “Don’t you see? They sold us! If we escape, they will sell the others to replace us!”

  Kith sucked in a sharp breath and spat out a curse recently acquired from Bronse.

  “She’s right! We need to get the others.”

  “Listen, kid, this isn’t a rescue mission,” Lasher argued sharply.

  Bronse gave his second a look, reminding him that it actually was a rescue mission, or it was supposed to have been. Lasher had the scruples to look sheepish.

  “But, sir, they’re civilians.”

  “We’re Chosen Ones! Priests and priestesses!” Kith snapped. “Sold and defiled, our temple desecrated by greed! They were selling Ravenna to be a Shiasha’s bride so he could rape her for the powers she has. They were selling me to be his chained pet and gods only know what else. Rave is right. We have a baby sister. The temple will be ransacked for the powerful Chosen Ones who are still virgins. That would be our sixteen-year-old sister, Ophelia. And there’s fourteen-year-old Devan. But then again, there’s Fallon, who’s seventeen if the Shiasha likes boys.”

  “What the hell is a Chosen One?” Lasher barked.

  “No time. No time,” Ravenna murmured.

  “She’s right. Let’s solve this later. Let’s just get out of here and head east into the wilderness. We’ll figure the rest as we go.”

  “Good. Our temple is in the wilderness,” Kith said darkly.

  “I didn’t make any promises, kid,” Bronse snapped. “And while I’m at it, I’m in charge of this mission. What I say goes. If men like these can accept that, then so can you. You copy?”

  “Yeah,” Kith agreed after a wide-eyed moment resembling respect. But then again, everyone respected Bronse when he used that tone.

  Ravenna was only partly conscious and even less aware than that when the next part of her prophecy came roaring out of a dark corridor. An unexpected troop of guards dropped right on top of them. Had Bronse been alone helping Kith and Ravenna, he would have been outnumbered ten to one and likely slaughtered in a heartbeat. Instead, the speed and violent skill of his team burst to life all around him, and he and Kith drew Rave out of the way of danger.

  After leaning Rave against Kith, Bronse joined the melee. His team, however, had rallied with splendid efficiency. They did a fine job of silently dispatching the threat, with a little help from Ender’s more stealthy tricks of his trade. Not a single whine of laser fire was to be heard. The guards lay sagged against the walls—all of them unconscious because Bronse had ordered a “no kill” until they were aboveground, when the rules would change significantly. Breathless, Bronse took a minute to lean against a wall, wiping sweat from his brow.

  A moment later he heard a sharp intake of breath from Kith and turned to see what was wrong. He found the younger man glaring at him with accusation.

  “What?” Bronse asked impatiently.

  “You’re injured!” Kith snapped.

  Bronse felt the attention of his entire crew swinging toward him, three pairs of sharp eyes assessing him quickly.

  “I’m fine,” Bronse dismissed their concern gruffly. He straightened from the wall and took half of Ravenna’s weight onto himself again, ending any argument.

  At least with his crew.

  “He’s lying!” Kith blustered. “He’s in agony!”

  “Let’s get moving, kid,” Bronse commanded.

  “But—”

  “Move or let Ender take your place!” Bronse barked.

  Ender didn’t give the kid a choice. The huge munitions officer plucked Kith out from under his sister’s arm, yanking him back in Justice’s direction, and then swept up Ravenna’s weight on the left side as if she were a paper doll. Bronse secretly took a breath of relief as Ender bore his half of her weight far better than Kith had.

  Kith, meanwhile, was cussing and grumbling under his breath about Bronse. “He’s hurt,” he groused to Justice, “and he’s lying about it.”

  “He’s a soldier,” Justice responded with a shrug, clearly the end of the discussion on the matter.

  When they finally exited the tunnel entrance his crew had found in their efforts to reach Bronse, the commander never thought he would be so glad to see the black sands of the Grinpar Desert again. But one look at the lightening sky sent his mind reeling. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed. Dawn came early on Ebbany, and it was already upon them.

  “We have to get to the wilderness, fast,” he said, shifting Ravenna’s weight entirely onto Ender so he could quickly shrug out of his gear vest. He stripped off his double holster, then his long-sleeved black shirt. This exposed a short-sleeved Skintex T-shirt, also black, which he left on. He reached to slide the discarded shirt onto Ravenna, covering her exposed arms and back, buttoning it over the ragged remains of her gown in the front. “This will protect your skin in case we don’t make it to cover before the sun is high enough to burn.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “I am used to the sun.”

  “I know. But it’s different when you’re injured.”

  “Okay,” she accepted.

  Bronse reached to redress his gear, his keen eyes sweeping around the terrain as he tried to think of an advanced course of action.

  “Ender, how many miles could you carry her on your own if you had to?”

  “How many do you need?” the giant rejoined without h
umor or ego.

  “Kith, how many miles to your temple from here?”

  Kith stepped forward eagerly. “This is Banda territory. I don’t know exactly how far in we are, but I guess about thirty miles. Northeast,” he clarified before Bronse could ask, refusing to let the commander have any more opportunity to treat him like a simplistic kid. He was twenty-one years old, making him more than a man in many cultures, and he was quickly getting tired of the way this stranger treated him.

  “They’ll expect them to run straight home,” Lasher offered warily. “They’d try to reacquire them there.”

  “If their villagers sold them out, I wouldn’t call it a safe haven,” Justice added.

  “The temple is set deep in the forest, away from the village,” said Kith. “They wouldn’t even know we were there. The Banda don’t know where the temple is, only the village. It would take them time to catch up to us.” Kith was trying not to sound as anxious as he felt, but he had too much at stake to manage the same cool contemplation of their tones.

  “Frankly, I don’t see that we have much choice,” said Bronse. “The temple will provide shelter and a temporary safe haven. We need somewhere to hide from the larger threat of the trap closing in around us.” Bronse placed his hands on his hips for a minute as he surveyed the dawn coming over the terrain. “We can handle the Banda better than the other threat. Agreed?”

  “Sir, the ship has medical care. I don’t see logic in going in the opposite direction,” Justice complained softly. As a pilot, she inherently craved having a ship at hand. Being without it was like amputating a major skill.

  “Ophelia is a healer,” Kith countered. “And far better at it than anything you can come up with.”

  “I doubt that,” Bronse said dryly. “Okay. The bottom line is that everything to the south is hot with danger and enemies. We can’t risk it with an injured woman and a civilian. Northeast it is.”