by Lili Zander
She’d been in those stocks for four days. She’d lost a third of her body weight. She was starved. Flies buzzed over her wounds. Disease ran hot in her blood.
Anais Calorio’s mind had shattered.
I am a Hafsson. The weight of generations of expectations presses down on me. I keep myself on a very tight leash. But when I saw her in that square, I knew that before the sun set that day, everyone involved would die.
We killed the man who bought her from Gratvar. We killed the manager of his estates. We killed every single adult member of his family. We killed the broker that arranged the transaction. We killed the people who sat in the benches arranged in tiers at the sides of the square and watched a woman being tortured as if it were some kind of spectator sport.
And then we went after Gratvar’s crew.
The only reason Hiram Gratvar had been allowed to live was because he had been fourteen. I wanted to give him a chance to choose a different life.
He chose poorly. He will die today.
It’s Nero I’m worried about. Nero charges into battle, reckless and brave, because something inside him died when he saw his mother in that square. Until his last breath, he will blame himself for her suffering.
Nero and Zeke sprint to the cockpit. I watch Nero go, my nerves stretched taut. This situation is fraught with peril. Nero is our best pilot. I’ll need him to steer the Valiant while Zeke and I take out Gratvar’s fleet. But given his history, I’m worried about leaving him on his own.
Raven picks up on my hesitation and gives me a questioning look. “Is something wrong?”
I’m about to reflexively reassure her that everything’s fine, and then I catch myself. I promised Raven that I wouldn’t be so high-handed. She’s smart, tough, and incredibly brave. As much as I want to wrap her in a protective cocoon, I know I’ll lose her if I do.
“I need your help.”
Her eyes widen with surprise. “Of course,” she responds. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure how Nero is going to react. The slavers… Let’s just say that we saw things we all wish we’d never seen.” I take a deep breath. “This is a situation that is designed to make him lose control. Zeke and I will operate the guns, but I'm going to leave the comm lines open. If Nero looks like he's struggling, if he freezes, can you alert me?”
“Of course,” she says again. She stands up on tiptoe and brushes a kiss against my cheek. “Thank you, Saber.”
My nostrils flare as her scent wafts over me. My cock stirs. I can hear the beating of her heart. The quickening of her breath. I can feel her nipples harden, and it’s everything I can do to keep myself from kissing her. “Thank you for what?”
She feels good against my side. Soft, warm, curvy. It drags me back to Boarus 4. To the warm tent, to the feel of her mouth on me, to the sound of her moans as she lost control. I shake that image loose. She wants us; her body can’t lie. But after what I did, I doubt she’ll ever give in to her desires again and welcome me to her bed.
“For asking me for help. It matters.”
I should join the others. We’re under attack. Now’s not the time to linger with Raven. But it’s hard to wrench myself away from this moment of quiet connection.
3
Nero
“Incoming ships.”
I slide into the pilot’s seat. The warning alarms blare. I push a key, and the display zooms in on one of the ships hurtling toward us. It’s long and sleek, yellow and black in color, and there’s a winged serpent painted on one side.
Hiram Gratvar.
We’re not in safe space. We’re in the Uncharted Reaches, the buffer of lawlessness between the Shayde Empire and the Constellation of Jowth. Ships venture here at their own peril. It had been a risk setting this course, but we’d had no other option. We’re on the Valiant. If we travel through the Empire—the most direct way to get to Merin—we’ll be spotted. Either by Ragnar’s people or by Levitan’s.
The rest of the fleet comes into view, all seven of them. Zeke swears under his breath. “Fucking slavers. Can we evade?”
I watch the screen. There’s Gratvar’s ship, five smaller fighters and one…
My heart starts to race. The last dot on my screen is a cargo ship. And if you’re a slaver, the cargo you carry…
… Are slaves. Abducted from their worlds, thrown into holds, and transported across the galaxy to be sold.
It happened to my mother nineteen years ago. I was seven. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I’ve carried around that feeling of helplessness for a long time.
I point out the cargo ship to Zeke. “We’re not going to fucking evade.” I turn around and meet Saber’s eyes. I’m bracing myself for an order to abort. Harek Levitan has created a deadly disease. At any moment, we’re going to have an outbreak on our hands. Our only hope is Raven. She carries the virus in her blood. We need to get a sample to Ivar Karling so that he can start working on a cure. Our first priority should be to keep her safe and protected, not to get into battles with rogue slavers.
“Colonel?”
Saber’s expression is hard. “I’m not your commanding officer anymore, Nero. You don’t need my permission. But I agree with you. We don’t retreat from slavers. We wipe them off the face of the galaxy.”
I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“They’re going to try to board and take us captive,” Zeke warns. “We can’t let that happen. If they run our IDs, Levitan will be alerted to our location.”
“They won’t board.”
Saber hears the resolve in my voice and frowns. “We need to get rid of the Zaddyth vermin and get to that cargo ship. No unnecessary risks, Nero. The Valiant has the best shields money can buy, but let’s not test them more than we have to. Are we clear?” He turns to Raven. “Could you stay with Nero, please?”
I wink at Raven. “I see how it is,” I grumble. “Despite not being our commanding officer, Saber barks orders at Zeke and me. You, on the other hand, get a ‘please.’ Seems reasonable.”
Saber rolls his eyes and continues to hand out instructions. “Zeke, man the starboard guns. I’ll take the port ones. Leave the comms open. They’ll try to hail us once they’re in range. I want to hear what Gratvar has to say.”
This is battle, familiar and soothing. Saber’s orders remind me I’ve done this a thousand times before. Gratvar is no different than the other pieces of slime we’ve gone to war against in the last seven years. “Yes, Colonel.”
Saber and Zeke disappear, and Raven takes a seat at my right. “There are so many of them,” she says, looking at the viewscreen. “Can we fight them all?”
“Yes. They’re hoping a show of force might convince us to surrender.” Anticipation tingles in my fingers. “It’s not a bad strategy. It would have worked if we were the tourist ship they think we are.” I smile at her. “Our shields might take a beating, but that’s the worst that can happen. Saber and Zeke will take them out before they have a chance to inflict any real damage.”
She gives me a pensive look. “I didn't know that your mother was taken by slavers.”
“Hiram Gratvar didn’t enslave my mother. His father, Dawlish Gratvar did.” White-hot anger runs through my veins. “I thought we’d dealt the Gratvar scum a mortal blow when we killed Dawlish, but I guess not.” Resolve hardens my heart. “This time, I’ll make sure to wipe them all out.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Not really. I don’t want to think about what Gratvar did to my mother. I don’t want to remember the years I spent searching for her. Some wounds are too deep to heal. But Raven links her hand in mine, and the words pour from my lips in a flood. “My mother was a prostitute who plied her wares in a dusty tavern. I never knew my father. We were dirt poor. Despite that, I had a happy childhood. We never had very much money, but my mother loved me.”
I clench my hand into a fist. There’s a slight tug of pain. It’s not completely healed yet. When the fight starts, I’ll have to remember to co
mpensate for it. “Then Gratvar’s pirates landed on Merin. They took Toram, the man who ran the bar. They took Jemina, the young cook in the kitchen. And they took my mother.”
“You were seven.”
I nod. My fingers hover over my flight stick, my eyes stay fixed on the screen. Only Raven’s touch keeps me anchored to here, now. “I swore vengeance.”
“I can understand that.”
Yes, she can. Her parents were taken from her too. We have this in common. “I joined a street gang. I think I told you that. We terrorized the local government. Everyone who had intentionally looked the other way when Gratvar’s crew landed on Merin was made to pay for it. We wreaked havoc. Subconsciously, I think I was determined to die in the most reckless, dangerous way possible.”
She makes a sound of distress. I turn to her and force a smile on my face. “I’m fine. It all worked out in the end.”
Her eyes are blue, a deep, dark hue that reminds me of a still water pond. I could lose myself in their depths. “We both know that’s not true,” she says quietly. “We function because we must. It doesn’t matter if we’re broken inside.”
Saber clears his throat, the sound coming through on the ship’s comm. “I’m in position.”
“Me too,” Zeke adds.
Raven startles. She’d forgotten the comms were open. So had I. That’s probably why Saber had spoken, to remind both of us that he could hear our conversation. Not that it matters. I don’t have secrets from Zeke and Saber. They’re family.
“We threw Merin into chaos, even more so than usual. People started to complain, and eventually, the protests reached Starra. Saber was dispatched to restore order.”
Gratvar is closing in. Any moment now, he’s going to hail us and demand we surrender.
Hiram is a fucking idiot; the father was a lot smarter. Dawlish would have realized that most people who saw the Gratvar emblem would turn around and flee.
We’re not running away.
Dawlish Gratvar would have been wary. Not so the son. Hiram’s ship is setting a direct course for us. Fool. This is Ragnar Thorsson’s personal spacecraft. The Valiant is more than capable of taking down a fleet twice this size.
“In less than a week,” I continue, “Saber’s team had retaken control of my planet. We had only one shot of survival. Send someone in to assassinate him. I volunteered.”
Raven gapes at me. “You did?”
I wink at her. “What can I say? I was young and stupid. You’ve seen Saber fight, you can probably predict what happened next. He disarmed me with embarrassing ease, but for some reason, he didn’t kill me. Instead, he helped me find my mother.”
For twelve years, I’d tried to find her. Using the full might of the Empire, Saber and Zeke found her in an afternoon.
“She’s safe now? Back in Merin?”
“Her time as a slave caused all kinds of damage, but she survived. The others didn’t. It changed her. My mother used to laugh a lot. She doesn’t talk much anymore. She lives in Fateh.” Raven’s expression is blank. “Fateh is a small planet in the North-Eastern quadrant of the Empire. It’s…” I’m not sure how to describe Fateh. “It’s quiet, peaceful. The weather is always perfect. It never rains; it never snows. Merin is noisy and chaotic and filled with life. Fateh is monotone and sanitized. But that’s what she needs.”
Raven’s expression is sympathetic. “Do you visit often?”
I shake my head. “Fateh only permits visitors one week a year. People go there to take refuge.” Pain squeezes my heart. “I tell myself that one day, she’ll be well enough to reengage with the galaxy. With me.”
The comms flare to life before Raven can reply. I shake my head, banishing the memories. I need to focus on the present, not drown in the failures of the past.
A gravelly voice fills the small cockpit. “Hailing the Albatross. This is Captain Hiram Gratvar. You are in our territory. Prepare to be boarded.”
Albatross? Raven mouths.
“Zeke cloaked the Valiant’s identity.” I flip a switch and broadcast a reply to Gratvar. “These are the Uncharted Reaches. You have no jurisdiction here. Give up the cargo ship, and I will let you leave. Otherwise, we attack.”
The pirate laughs at that, long and hard. “There’s one of you and six of us. You’re warning me? Who do you think you are?”
Toram had died in less than a year after he’d been enslaved. He’d been beaten by his owner for not working fast enough. His cuts got infected. The drugs to cure him were expensive, and the man who bought him decided that Toram wasn’t worth saving.
I never knew who my father was. When I was a child, I used to fantasize that it was tall, thin, graying Toram. He probably knew. It never changed the way he treated me. Toram was always kind.
It’s Toram’s face I see now. And Jemina’s, and my mother’s. And when I speak, my voice sounds as icy as the coldest night on Boarus 4. “I am your death.”
A shiver runs through Raven. Most days, I can keep the dark caverns inside me hidden, but not today. Not when Hiram Gravtar is still alive and so many of the people that I cared about are dead.
I’ve scared her. I’m about to open my mouth to say something reassuring, but before I can do that, she straightens her spine. Her eyes blaze bright. “Let’s take him down.”
Raven’s parents were killed on Boarus 4. She was sent to the re-education camps—a glorified prison—as a child. She was there for ten years. She’s been forged in fire. She’s stronger than all of us.
Unbidden, a memory rises. Raven building her ice-boat and hoisting the sail, and effortlessly gliding across the ice.
That was the first time I realized I’d underestimated her.
Today needs to be the last.
4
Raven
Nero’s eyes are focused on the screen. He reminds me of a s’kal cat at this moment, lazy and languid, nothing in his body showing that he’s inches from striking. His fingers stroke the controls, soft and light, and I have a sudden vision of his hands on me, his thumbs teasing my nipples. I sit straight in my seat, pressing my thighs together. The slavers are about to attack us, and I’m fighting the urge to touch Nero.
What the hell is wrong with me? When danger surrounds me from every direction, my need for the vampires reaches a fever pitch. The first time I slept with Saber and Nero and Zeke, it was right after Olaf and his enforcers attacked me.
Great Spirit, I’m fucked up.
Thankfully, Nero doesn’t seem to notice the direction of my thoughts. His attention is on the slavers’ ships. He’s on guard for any sudden attacks.
I am your death. His voice had been flat and unemotional, but the words themselves had come from the deepest part of him. Saber’s warning sounds in my ears. This is a situation that is designed to make him lose control.
Nero told me once that we were similar. It was the first day I’d met the three vampires. Saber had sponsored me in the tournament, and afterward, Nero had gone with me to my apartment so that I could pick up clothes. He’d sat on my bed and he’d told me that he’d grown up on the streets. That he understood me.
That day, I’d scoffed at Nero. That day, he was just a vampire to me, rich and powerful. The vampires were our masters. The balance of power would always be in his favor.
But I’d been wrong about him. I understand his pain now. I understand his desire to obliterate everyone involved in enslaving his mother.
Out of nowhere, three more ships appear on the screen, yanking my attention back to the here and now. “Nero,” I gasp. “There’s more of them.” I feel so helpless. I can cut through the ice on Glacis and find fish so I don’t starve. I can follow a s’kal cat’s trail for miles on end. I can build a shelter from blocks of ice so I don’t freeze to death. But out here in space, none of my skills are of any use. I don’t know how to fly a ship or shoot a gun.
“I see them.” Unlike me, Nero sounds perfectly relaxed. “Here, take this.” He indicates a joystick in front of me. “See this viewsc
reen? Your job is to fire the starboard guns. Whenever one of the fighters is in the crosshairs, fire. Don’t shoot the cargo ship. Got it?”
“Got it.” I swallow hard. There are people on the fighters. Living people. And when I shoot them, they’ll die.
They’re are slavers, Raven. Save your sympathy.
I must look nervous because Nero pats my hand. He intends the touch to be reassuring, but I shiver as his callused fingers caress my skin. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Saber and Zeke are crack shots. I’d run into a gunfight any day knowing they have my back.”
Saber coughs, reminding me again that the comm lines are open. “So you’re saying that if we didn’t cover you, you wouldn’t run into as many fights?” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “Really? After seven years, I find this out now? That’s all it takes?”
He’s doing it to distract Nero. He’s heard the flatness of Nero’s voice. He’s heard him tell Gratvar that they will all die. And he’s making a joke.
It’s not a joke. It’s a lifeline.
Arrogant or not, Saber rescues people. That’s his thing. It’s never been more clear than in this moment.
Hiram Gratvar’s voice oozes through the speakers. “We have you surrounded,” he says mockingly. “The only people that will die today are those on the Albatross. And now it’s my turn to give you a warning. Drop your shields and let us board, or you will all perish.”
Nero rolls his eyes at the posturing.
Just as the slaver finishes talking, a pulse of light streaks from the Zaddyth ship. Nero’s been waiting for that moment. He anticipates the shot perfectly and veers the ship sharply to the left. At the same time, his fingers dance over the controls, and the screen expands to show three hundred and sixty degrees of space around us. “When you’re fighting in space,” he says conversationally, “You can be approached from any direction. Stab that red button.”
I hit the button on the joystick I’m holding. A jet of fire erupts from the Valiant and hits one of the pirate ships that zoomed in front of us, knocking it off its trajectory. “Nicely done,” Nero praises me. “We’ll make a fighter pilot out of you in no time.”
