She shook him off as the crowd lost interest in her and began dancing again. “I need the bathroom.”
“Wait,” Jalux trailed behind her, but a scantily clad young woman grabbed him and draped herself over him like a parasitic plant around a tree.
Making it to the edge of the throng, she hoped nobody had been watching from upstairs—especially Nagavi. She checked the window, but couldn’t see anything except a reflection of the shifting light display from the ceiling’s vidscreen. She decided to rejoin Shaba and the others and find a restroom on the way. Halfway to her goal, she spotted the universal sign for a female washroom and joined the queue at the end of a long narrow corridor.
Listening to the young women in front of her discuss who they thought had the most unique mask and outfit, she realized how far from normal her existence had become. She’d lost everything that these women took for granted, family, home, and friends, but contrary to her expectations, life was improving. She stifled a laugh, imagining the women’s disbelief if she told them she was one of Lord Rial’s Chenjerai.
The instant she emerged from the restroom into the empty passage and spotted two figures blocking the way into the club, her skin prickled.
Heavy footsteps coming toward her from behind had her turning to find a tall heavyweight man approaching. If he thought he could rob her, he was in for a surprise.
He wasn’t wearing a mask, and his piggy eyes squinted at her, and his jowls quivered as he leered, his gaze moving from her face slowly down her body. “Hey, you’re that gorgeous dancer everyone’s talking about, aren’t you? The blonde?”
That everyone’s talking about? What had Rial said? Do nothing to draw attention to yourself.
“Oh, I think they’ll be queueing up to bid for you.”
She snorted. Well, as much as she could guarantee anything, she could guarantee the Heir wouldn’t be selling. She turned to leave, but the thug grabbed her arm.
“Don’t walk away, that’s rude. Here, this is for you.” Before she could shake him off, he slapped a small translucent patch on her wrist.
She half growled, the sound coming from low in her throat. This time she wasn’t half asleep and exhausted, and no one would make her do anything she didn’t want to. She whipped her leg up and kneed him as hard as she could in the groin.
His face twisted with pain, and he lurched forward.
She chopped him hard in the throat, then slammed his chin with her palm, snapping his head back. She stepped away as he dropped to the floor with a thump, but another man, taller and leaner, appeared out of the darkness. Her vision swam, and suddenly dizzy, she stumbled backward, hitting the wall as the drug coursed through her system.
“Hey, San,” the man called, “get me another patch, quick. I’ll kill Nelwyr with his faulty deals.”
Kia moaned as an intense cramp twisted her innards. The sweet sour taste of bile filled her mouth, and she doubled over, vomiting over the man’s shoes.
He stepped away, grunting with disgust.
The other two men hurried along the passageway as Kia puked again.
“Hey! Pick on someone your own size.”
Kia recognized the voice and sagged with relief. None of her new skills included fighting while spewing up your guts.
The first man turned around, and the knife whistling through the air flew straight into his eyeball. He slumped to the floor. An instant later, the second man sprawled on his face, a dagger quivering between his shoulder blades.
Another bout of nausea convulsed Kia, and she retched again.
“Is she all right?” In no time at all, Nagavi had the third man trussed and terrified on the floor.
Kia never thought she would be so relieved to hear the senior officer’s familiar voice. “Yes, I’m fine.” She looked up to see more of the team striding toward them. Thank the Goddess. A wave of warmth toward her new companions swept over her. It was good to learn these people watched out for each other.
“Shaba, escort her to the bathroom. Tamaiko, tell the club security to call the authorities and collect this piece of trash and organize a clean-up. She made a real mess on the floor,” Nagavi grumbled
“Sure, boss,” Shaba responded.
After Kia finished throwing her guts up, Shaba wiped the gunk off her shoes. Her outfit was unsoiled, although more by accident than by intent. Ten minutes later, feeling miserable and embarrassed despite the incident not being her fault, they emerged into an antiseptic-smelling corridor free of dead bodies and vomit.
“I think your celebrating is over, young lady.”
Her stomach was empty and her head was clear, though her legs felt wobbly, and she couldn’t wait to sleep in her new bed. “Sure, boss,” she mumbled, grateful Shaba still had hold of her arm keeping her upright.
Chapter Fifteen: Revelations
Kia woke on the gold-brocaded couch in her new quarters wearing the unitard and covered with a soft blanket. She’d passed out in the flit and had no memory of how she arrived in her quarters, but somebody, she assumed Shaba, had removed the beaded costume and settled her on the couch, though it wasn’t long enough to be completely comfortable. The sleep had cleared her head, but her mouth and throat felt as if a Sestrian sandstorm had made an unexpected visit. Looking out of the window, she gazed at the moon, much larger than Emankora’s, and remembered the evening’s events. She sighed. No matter how hard she tried to stay out of trouble, somehow it always found her. Nagavi would have informed Lord Rial. At this rate, she would never get to do anything by herself, ever.
A cough drew her attention to the door in the corner by the window. She’d noticed it earlier and found it locked, but tonight it was wide open. She peered along the narrow dark corridor, knowing full well where the little passage led. Regrettably, she was without a weapon, and whatever plan she devised would have to be more subtle than rushing at him with a knife in the dark. Ignoring the sudden alarm blaring in her brain and the twisting of her guts, she couldn’t resist tiptoeing along the corridor. She paused in the opened doorway at the other end.
Outlined in the moonlight, Lord Rial lay on his back on the couch, an arm thrown over his face as he slept. He seemed younger and vulnerable in sleep. He wore loose black pants, and his bare chest rose and fell with his soft breathing, revealing his sculpted muscles.
No, no, no. Whatever way he might interpret the situation—assassination or seduction—wouldn’t be good for her. Where in the name of the Goddess had her common sense gone? She turned to flee.
“Kia?”
She stopped in her tracks. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… it was… I—”
He clicked his fingers and a soft light bloomed. “Turn around.”
Shoulders slumping, eyes down, she faced him, then looked up, irritated, as he laughed at her.
“Your face,” he said. “Go in my bathroom and wash your face.”
“I can do that in my… I’ll leave—” She stopped speaking as he was beside her, his hand on her neck. She balked at he slid open the door to his bedroom, but the pressure of his fingers told her not to bother.
“Through there,” he pushed her toward a second door.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the sink and snorted. What was left of the black make-up Shaba had artistically applied earlier was smudged in giant circles around her eyes. She could have been an actor in a horror show. She washed her face, inhaling the fresh scent of his cleanser, and felt petty doing it, but made sure she left plenty of black smears on his pristine white towels.
“Come and sit down.” He patted the seat beside him. “I’m glad you’re here, despite the hour, as I have two gifts and an apology for you. But first, let me get you a drink.” He returned with two exquisite crystal goblets filled with an emerald green liquid, handing one to her. He touched his glass to hers. “Here’s to the future.” He sipped his drink.
Kia didn’t want any more intoxication, but her throat begged for mercy. She copied his example, her taste buds exp
loding as the sweet liquid flowed smooth and easy as honey water over her tongue.
“Drink up,” he said, clinking her glass once again and tossing back the rest.
“Are you trying to get me intoxicated?”
“Yes, but not for the reason you think.”
She wasn’t thinking of any reason, but the whole situation was bizarre. She’d been doing as she was ordered since the empire’s soldiers first pointed a gun at her, so she obeyed and sipped a bit more. “What’s this about an apology?” The alcohol emboldened her, but she kept her tone polite. Okay, she appreciated the unexpected chance to stab him with something—her gaze slid around the room checking for a weapon—but couldn’t spot anything useful. She shivered, far too conscious she was alone with a man whose power frightened her.
“What did I warn you about before you left?”
His quiet tone had her cringing. Here he goes, she thought. “Not to draw attention to myself.”
“Did you?”
She recognized the soft menace in his voice. “Not on purpose.” She hated how defensive that sounded, but she hadn’t asked anybody to watch her dance.
“I repeat, did you draw attention to yourself?”
The understated threat hovered in the air.
“Possibly,” she snapped, her nerves getting the better of her.
“I hope the attempt to kidnap you wasn’t a result of somebody seeing the comvid of your dancing.”
“What comvid?” Could things get any worse?
“I had it deleted, but somebody relayed it live to the city’s comnet. Last year, as far as we can estimate, slavers snatched over a thousand young men, women and children during the festival. I would have been disturbed to discover you had been among this year’s disappearances. Retrieving you would be costly and time consuming. What was the name of the dance?”
“The Assassin’s Seduction,” she mumbled, surprised he’d recognized it as a srilao dance and knew they had names. He would have come after her. She felt a softening toward him but frowned at his gripe about the cost and time. “Can’t the city authorities stop it?”
“They could, but the emperor allows it. Not officially, of course.”
She peered at him in disbelief. “Why?”
“He tolerates the slavers for a few years, and when the citizens become too upset, he removes them, and basks in their gratefulness for having such a strong and benevolent leader.”
“That’s…” She left the sentence unfinished. The emperor was his father.
“Twisted? Corrupt? Or we can settle for plain evil.” He fell silent. “Keeping you alive hasn’t been straightforward, Kia. Apart from saving you from certain death out in the forest, an attempt on your life killed a talented young woman, although you were the target. You should have been piloting when the accident happened, shouldn’t you? Regrettably, you appear to be the target of too much unwelcome attention.”
Where had this come from? “Did you find out the cause of Red’s—”
“Red was your friend, but her death was not your fault, Kia.” He ignored her interruption, talked over her and didn't appear to notice she’d spoken. He walked over to a desk in the corner, opened a drawer and removed something. “Here,” he said, “this is my first gift.” Was he nervous? “Hold out your hand.” He placed a heavy object in her palm. “I believe this is yours.”
She looked down, tears coming unbidden as she studied the golden srilao champion’s medal, her medal, the one Nagavi had taken off her when he told her I’ll be seeing you before the year is out; until then, I’ll take care of this. “Thank you,” she said clutching the medallion. She took a long pull of the sweet fiery liquid.
“Kia, does the name Jenèz mean anything to you?”
Jenèz? She stared at him as if he’d grown four heads, and once more her throat was a desert. She drained her goblet. Jenèz was the name her father had insisted she and Jared memorize, drilling it into them during the previous summer until she was saying it in her sleep. He’d made it very clear that if anyone used that name, they could trust that person. How did the Heir know that name? Was he trying to gain her trust with the medallion, thinking she would betray the resistance network—if anyone was still alive? But her father had told her nothing about the people he’d formed alliances with.
“My second gift is this.” He returned to the desk, retrieving a small hand comunit from the drawer. “This is also for you.” He tapped the screen and passed her the device.
Kia stared in disbelief at her brother’s face looking up at her, his familiar smile, the shock of dark blond hair. He appeared healthy, but there were lines around his hazel eyes that hadn’t been there when she last saw him.
“Kia, if you’re watching this, then you’ve met Jenèz, and you’re protected. Father and I worked with him over a long period. You can trust him, Kia. I can’t imagine what our parents would have said if they’d learned you were hobnobbing with the highest ranks of the empire.” A look of sorrow flickered across his face, but it vanished quickly. “Oh, did I mention Rial is Jenèz? Well, he is. Be safe, little sis. I love you.” The screen went blank.
“In Sestris, Madaxa Xefe knew me as Jenèz, and you have no reason to trust what I say, Kia, but perhaps you’ll believe your brother. I deeply regret that I failed to save your entire family.”
Jared was alive and well. Her heart filled with hope. “Where is he?” She would crawl across hot coals if she had to. She would spend her days on her knees begging if that’s what it took to be with her brother. “Can I see him?”
“Not at present. He’s far from Xarunta. If we pass near the system where he is, I’ll take you to visit him. I promised Madaxa I would keep his family secure, and to my lasting shame, the plans we worked on for many years, in the end, failed.”
She crossed her arms and hugged herself. Breathe, she told herself, you’ll live. This won’t kill you. What was one more paradigm shift? “You’re really Jenèz?” Her plans for revenge were falling apart, leaving her adrift—though maybe she should attribute the latter to the alcohol she’d consumed.
“I am. Which is why I sent Nagavi to prevent you ending up in the mines. The situation was difficult and I regret I was unable to rescue you the way I did Jared. There are many games played by the emperor and my enemies, and I couldn’t reveal my hand in Sestris.” He sat silent for a while, then smiled, a small rueful smile. “I told you I keep my promises.”
Kia, too restless to sit, leaned against the window, staring out at the glowlamps creating pools of silver light in the garden. Her mind still reeled as she sought to reconcile the fact that her brother was alive, and that the Heir to the throne had worked with her father to foil the Emperor’s plans for Emankora.
Rial refilled her goblet. “Would you care for something to eat?”
She shook her head. The liquor was enough to dull the trauma of his revelations. Her stomach couldn’t handle food, too.
“There remains the issue of the nanobots in your blood.” He took her elbow and led her over to the couch, sitting down close beside her.
“Oh, those things.” Her skin prickled, a sure sign she wasn't going to like whatever he was about to say next.
“Cheydii informed you the new guards are presented to the emperor?”
She nodded.
“It is imperative he doesn’t find out your immune system has accepted the nanobots. He has been searching for a way to make the nanobots adapt to his system as he believes they would grant him an extended lifespan, among other benefits. If he discovered they’d adapted to you, he would put you in a lab and take you apart. He’d impregnate you himself, or remove your womb and use it as an incubator, and the rest of you would be taken apart for research.”
Kia stared at him horrified.
“Before and after I was born, he performed endless experiments on my mother. He wanted the advantages the nanobots bestowed but nothing worked. He kept conducting tests until he killed her. He is obsessed with gaining the power inherent
in the nanobots. They are the reason the drugs didn’t work on you tonight. The effects of poison and drugs are temporary, however your system will eject them—one way or another. ” He waited a few minutes, letting the information sink in. “I do have a resolution to the problem, although you may not be happy about the circumstances you’ll be placed in. You may even hate me for it, but it’s the only solution I have.”
“Can I have another glass of that green stuff before you tell me what it is?”
“Of course.”
“Fill it to the top,” she instructed.
“Tell me, how does a man woo a woman in your country?” he asked as he handed her the drink.
“With soft eyes, sweet words and deeds, and a kind loving heart,” she replied impulsively, knocking back a healthy slug of the liquor. “It’s a famous lovers’ poem.” It had been one of her mother’s favorites.
He smiled briefly but became solemn as he continued. “I can’t marry, except to someone my father decrees is suitable, and he hasn’t yet found an alliance worth sacrificing me for, but I can bed who I wish. Such a woman is given the unofficial status of companion, and he and I have an agreement that she is forbidden to him. He’s aware the consequences of breaking his promise in this matter would be serious.”
She didn’t want to hear anymore and glanced at the entrance to the passage with a dreadful, sinking feeling. Dear Goddess, let there be something else at the end of his confession other than where she feared this was heading. “Um, yes, I had heard.” She remembered Red’s jokes about sleeping with the Heir. She wished Red could have been here and tried to focus on what Rial was saying.
“The safest way to protect you is to officially make you my consort. He knows how you saved me, and that creates a plausible explanation for our alliance.”
No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. She was more intoxicated than she realized, or else the evening was getting really weird. “It must be the alcohol, but I'm hearing things. You didn't ask me to be your… your… whatever, did you?” She spluttered, spilling her wine and too alarmed to even say the word. “Because that would be insane. That's not what you asked, is it?”
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