Ember in Space The Collection

by Rebecca Rode

  “By sneaking up on me as I slept?”

  “I didn’t want the guards to hear me. I kind of crept past them. You weren’t the only tired one around here.”

  His story could be true, but she doubted it. Ruben was grinning, and suddenly Ember felt self-conscious in her bare feet, form-fitting trousers, and sleeveless shirt.

  No. He was the one acting inappropriately. Only a fool would believe that story. “Tell me why you left us on the ship.”

  “I felt a strange presence and went to see for myself.”

  She spoke softly, her voice only as loud as a breath. “The emperor.”

  His eyes went wide, and he approached her, excitement in his voice. “You felt him too.”

  “Yes.” She’d nearly convinced herself she was imagining things that day. None of the other flickers had noticed his presence. Of course the emperor wouldn’t be on such a run-down ship. He lived on Empyrean, a planet full of tall, snow-capped mountains and lush greenery. Stefan had shown her a video feed once. “Did you see him?”

  “No. I couldn’t find him. But I was able to hide until nightfall, then sneak out and steal a shuttle.” He raised a hand before she could interrupt. “Don’t worry, I disabled the tracking device first. Probably would have been smarter to wait for a cargo shuttle, but I thought the Daughter needed to know about the emperor.”

  Days ago Ember would have insisted he go straight there, but now she wasn’t so sure. “You’ll visit her tomorrow?”

  “I spoke with her tonight. She allowed me a late-night audience.” His grin faded, and he took a step closer. “It wasn’t her I was eager to see, however.”

  Just a foot lay between them now. Ember’s heart galloped in her chest, her mind racing with a clarity she’d hadn’t experienced in days. She lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “You have no loyalty to the Daughter, Ruben, and we both know it. You could have returned to Arcadia, but you didn’t. Tell me why.”

  “To the point, as always. I like that about you.” He paused. “I had to see you again.”

  She snickered. “You want something from me.” They always did. Those who couldn’t use her wanted to destroy her. There was no middle ground these days. She couldn’t trust anyone—the Daughter, her flickers. Not even Stefan.

  “A familiar sentiment,” Ruben said. “I often feel the same way. Delightful, having powers beyond imagination, isn’t it?” He chuckled. “No, I simply wanted to discuss our options. I believe we can still kidnap the Empire’s flickers.”

  Our options? We can kidnap? “You do?”

  “Yes, and it’s easier than you think.” Another step forward. Ruben’s face was only inches from hers now.

  He was pushing her, testing her level of trust. She refused to move backward. “It’s too dangerous to send a second unit after them.”

  “But not too dangerous for a couple of flares,” he said lightly.

  It took a moment to register. She finally allowed herself to step backward, her breath coming in quick gasps.

  His miraculous escape from the Empire ship. Could it be true?

  “I don’t believe you,” she finally managed. “Commander Kane said I was the first he’d seen in twenty years.”

  “I managed to hide it from him. He told me about your father, Nick, from the time I was a child. Practically worshiped the guy. I knew all about the symptoms, so when they started to appear, I knew enough to suppress them when he was around. He never suspected there was a flare in his own household.”

  If she had a lot of questions before, her mind was completely overwhelmed now. Ember wasn’t all that special after all. If Ruben really were a flare, could there be others out there?

  “Are you really his son?” Ember asked, taking an unconscious step back. Ruben Kane didn’t follow, allowing her the distance she needed. She knew the answer already. The similarities between Kane and his son were unmistakable. Even if that weren’t the case, Ruben had all the mannerisms of his father.

  “Yes. And to answer your next question, I’m the only other flare I know of. There definitely aren’t any others on Arcadia. We’re unique, you and I.”

  We will change the universe, you and I. Kane’s words. The memory made her mouth go dry.

  “You were never on the Union’s side,” Ember said. “You’re an Empire spy.”

  “I’m on my own side—a side I highly recommend for you as well. You’re too powerful to belong to anyone, Ember. Your abilities lift you far above that irritating woman who calls herself the Daughter. I keep hoping you’ll realize that, but it appears your insecurities are too great.”

  Her insides buzzed with a warning that screamed for her to get out, to run far away from this man. He watched her now, eyes as deep as a grave.

  She swallowed back her concern and smoothed her face again. “Then tell me why you’re really here.”

  “The Empire wants you. Wants us. Not as prisoners but as equal partners. They’ll raise us both to high commanders—no collars, no bonds. You’ll never be expected to sweep another ship. They just want you away from the Union.”

  “Sweep?” She snorted. “Is that what the Empire calls murder these days? And let me guess—you talked to the emperor himself.”

  “Yes. Not in person, of course, but on a screen. And I told you the truth about stealing a ship. I took the long way back, so they won’t find us unless I tip them off.”

  “And if I refuse?” Ember asked.

  “I’ll go alone. The Empire forces will descend upon this place within days. There will be no Union left to protect.”

  A chill gripped her spine. “Some of them are your own people, Ruben. You can leave them to their deaths so easily?”

  “The flickers will be retrieved, I’m sure. Too valuable to be wasted. Everyone else signed on for this. They knew the risks of war, and they were foolish to think they could beat the Empire in the first place.”

  He sounded exactly like his father. Ember couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it earlier. Ruben knew everything—their weapons, their numbers. Their capabilities. The Union wouldn’t last a day against the Empire.

  “Look, Ember,” Ruben said, closing the distance between them again. Ember took another step back and found herself up against the wall. “The emperor wanted me to extend the offer, but I didn’t have to do it in person. I came all this way because I thought you deserved that much. You’re a fascinating woman with incredible potential. Your power only makes you even more special.” His breath was hot against her forehead. “It’s almost like the stars wanted it to be this way—two flares, a man and a woman. Two rulers. Just think what we can accomplish together.”

  “Under Empire rule,” Ember muttered.

  “At first, perhaps. But the emperor won’t live forever, and despite the Daughter’s secret plans, she doesn’t have what it takes. You do. We do.”

  A shiver overtook Ember. Now he was proposing they unseat the emperor and rule the universe? The man was dancing on the brink of insanity.

  He gently brushed her cheek with his hand, then tilted her face upward. “It wouldn’t be the same without you. Please come.”

  “Stefan.” It was barely a croak.

  A glint of hardness appeared in Ruben’s eyes, and he let his hand fall. “What?”

  She hadn’t meant to say it aloud. It had simply slipped out. The last time she’d faced a man like this, had a man touch her like that, it had been Stefan. With a single touch, Stefan had lit her very soul on fire. This felt like a cheap imitation.

  “I’m not going with you,” Ember said. She paused, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze. “And I can’t allow you to go, either.”

  Ruben smiled. This time, however, it held no light for her. “I thought you might say that.”

  Her shield. She was suddenly very aware of it, as if a pressure were mounting on her brain. A tidal wave against solid rock. She hadn’t had time to refashion it to imitate the shape of his.

  Ember gritted her teeth and slammed her own inner arm agains
t his shield. Her pressure just folded around it. There was no give to his shield whatsoever. How could he be so strong?

  “You have adequate mental strength,” he said, mirroring her thoughts. “But you don’t have experience. There’s so much more you can do, things you haven’t even allowed yourself to consider.”

  “I don’t want to consider them. I only want those I love to be safe.”

  “Like your beloved Stefan, the little flicker playing dress-up under the emperor’s thumb?” He snickered. “Wrote his own death sentence by failing the emperor. Probably long dead by now.” There was a wildness to his eyes, something that chilled Ember to her core.

  Her defenses slipped. It was a minuscule amount, barely half a second, but it was enough. She could feel her shield weakening under the pressure, softening like butter under a steady stream of warm water. He had distracted her, and now she couldn’t stop the landslide of power from overcoming her.

  Her shield shattered like a hundred pieces of glass.

  And then she felt his filthy hand tighten around her soul, closing in.

  * * *

  She was in a small room, a box. A cage. She could see Ruben still, but it was as if a sheet of thick glass lay between Ember and her mind. Her body felt attached and detached all at once—her sensation strong yet beyond her own power. She’d been here once before, when her inner light consumed her mind.

  Panic rose within her, but there was no way out of the box. She tried to pound against it but couldn’t move her arms. Her screams died in her throat.

  Ruben grabbed her chin, roughly this time, and then his lips were on hers.

  She wanted desperately to shove him away, but her arms refused to move. It was as if she were watching a second version of herself lean into him. She finally raised a slow hand, but it wasn’t to push him away. She placed a hand on his hardened chest, pressing herself up against him, intensifying the kiss. He grinned against her mouth.

  Ember could sense his light pulsing within her, its heat radiating like a flame.

  She threw herself at it like a wild animal—

  * * *

  And scrambled backward, throwing a weak punch to his jaw. He recoiled just in time, his grin fading to a pout.

  Ember stumbled toward the bathroom, relieved that her legs were working again. Horror nearly overcame her shaking body. He hadn’t just done that. He couldn’t have. No one could.

  “Touch me again,” she hissed, her voice trembling, “and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

  She almost wanted him to challenge her, but instead he grinned knowingly, as if she were a boasting child. “I wanted you to come to me willingly. But no matter. I have what I want.”

  The stunner was only a few feet away. She leaped.

  That heavy force gripped her inner light again, closing in.

  She felt her eyes bulging, her breath being stolen from her. She sank to her knees, eyes wide, unable to speak or breathe or even think. The room began to go dark.

  The last thing she felt was her body hitting the floor.

  She woke to find Amai kneeling above her, tapping her cheek. “Ember.” Pat-pat-pat.

  Ember sat bolt upright. She lay on the floor next to her bed, the door behind Amai slightly open. The distant whine of a small pod’s engine passed by, drowning out the sound of arguing outside.

  Amai released a huge sigh and sat back. “I thought we’d lost you. Her Eminence would have strangled me herself.”

  Lost her? Her thoughts were too fuzzy to understand why she was on the floor. And there was far more noise outside than usual. It sounded like the entire base was on the move.

  Then it all came back. A pair of wild eyes. An unwanted kiss.

  She scrambled to check her shield. It was still there, though weak. Ruben could easily have breached it while she was out. He likely could have breached it even if she wasn’t. He had likely gleaned something of use from her while she lay there. “Ruben got away?”

  Amai’s expression hardened. “We spotted him climbing into that Empire shuttle he brought. Four soldiers died trying to stop him. There were others too. I think he may have recruited some of his flickers. We didn’t dare send ships after him, knowing it would compromise our location to anyone who’s looking.”

  And the Empire would be searching. Ruben had likely stolen all of Ember’s secrets—her father’s identity, her relationship with Stefan. Neraline’s history and her death. All her flickers’ identities. Even Stefan’s crazy theory about flares originating in a lab. And that was just the beginning. Ruben had firsthand knowledge of their base, their defenses, their numbers, ships, his secret conversation with the Daughter.

  “He’s going to the emperor.”

  Amai nodded, her lips pressed in a firm line. “That was our guess too. The Daughter isn’t taking any chances. We’re evacuating.”

  At least the woman was smart enough to do that. It must have cost her dearly. They’d invested a small fortune in making this planet habitable. Now they’d have to start over somewhere else. She wondered if the Daughter even had another place in mind. Surely they couldn’t all fit on that small farming moon where the children of Ruben’s recruits lived. Now she was glad they, at least, were safe.

  “So are you going to tell me what happened?” Amai asked. “I wasn’t expecting to have to revive you before dragging you onto the ship.”

  Ember refused Amai’s outstretched hand and climbed to her feet. She should have stopped Ruben. She should have known what he was or at least suspected. His request bothered her. She felt as if she’d missed something.

  He had to have known she would never willingly go with him. But he had won. If he wanted to appease the Empire so much, why not toss her over his shoulder and bring her along?

  She knew the answer immediately. He’d been hoping she would refuse. Ember was the emperor’s treasure, the coveted mystery the Empire sought for decades. Her name was known across several galaxies—the first flare in twenty years. But Ruben, the very son of a high commander, was nobody. Yet. He intended to change that by wiping out the Union and taking his place at the emperor’s side.

  He’d left her, his competition, to die.

  “We need to get out of here. Now.”

  Amai folded her arms. “Yes. I know. But there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  Ember strode toward the dresser that held her meager belongings, trying to gather her thoughts. “Amai, Ruben is a flare. And he’s much stronger than I am.”

  Amai flinched, eyeing in newfound horror the spot where Ember lay just moments before. “But I thought—so you aren’t the only one? That never even occurred to me as a possibility.”

  “Apparently not. And what he can do—” Ember shivered as she shoved her things into a night bag and slid her jacket over her shoulders.

  Now she knew she wasn’t losing her mind. Ruben had taken control of her just as her inner light had in the lift.

  She tried to remember the steps. Ruben had first broken through her shield, then grabbed hold of her light. But instead of pulling or sending a blow like Ember, he had . . . become her. Merged with her. Replaced her with himself.

  She saw it now. The signs were there all along. He’d received two audiences with the Daughter despite her high security and busy schedule. He had somehow stolen a boat to fetch Ember the night his people were attacked. He’d also managed to get past her guards twice. Had he knocked them out or simply convinced them he wasn’t a threat?

  You’re a flare. You’re above the entire human race, like a god. She hadn’t thought anything of it that day on the ship. But now she couldn’t believe she’d missed the signs. He was trying to manipulate her into coming with him even then, driving a wedge between her and the Union. Flattery hadn’t worked, so he’d attempted seduction. When that failed, he’d knocked her out of the picture altogether.

  Revulsion shot through her, ending in a shudder. Her inner light had been trying to tell her all along. Ruben was far more than he appea
red. He’d done nothing but position himself since the moment he arrived, manipulating those around him in broad daylight without anyone suspecting a thing. And if Ruben could do all those things . . .

  So could Ember.

  Her breath hitched. There was something else she didn’t understand. Ruben could have killed the entire settlement before leaving, taking out thousands at once and returning to the emperor a hero. But he hadn’t. That meant one of two things.

  Either he wanted to defeat the Union as the entire Empire watched, securing his position, or he was toying with Ember—hoping she would rise to the challenge and fight him. Perhaps a public battle where their abilities were demonstrated across the galaxy. And he, of course, would defeat her again. In an instant, Ruben would become the second most powerful man in the universe.

  But that was only if Ember chose to face him in the spotlight, with the galaxies watching. Ruben had finally left his childhood in the dark shadows of the underground and was now emerging into the light. Ember had been raised in the light, but Ruben obviously expected Ember to run off with the Union into the shadows.

  He was wrong.

  “Get everyone off this planet right now,” Ember said. “The Empire will already be on its way. But leave behind your smallest, most useless ship. Even a shuttle that can travel long-distance and carry a few passengers. Nothing that’s ever belonged to the Empire before.”

  Amai raised an eyebrow. “If he’s really a flare, we’ll need your help more than ever. We don’t stand a chance without you.”

  “I’ll take care of Ruben. I know exactly what he wants.” He’d said it last night. The emperor won’t live forever. He wouldn’t stop at his father’s high commander position. He wanted the throne itself.

  “You’re going after him,” Amai guessed, a glint of hope in her eyes. “To challenge him?”

  “Indirectly. I’m going to threaten what he wants. I need you to take a message to the Daughter for me. Tell her I’ve decided to be her sand.”

  “And . . . that’s supposed to mean something profound?”