2SaurellianFederationBundle

by Joanna Wylde

  “Josiah, why is it that I’m not surprised you didn’t knock?” Jerred asked with an acid smile. “I assume that you’re ready for us to come to dinner?”

  “Yes,” Josiah replied idly. “Follow me, I have a special treat for you. Wine from the Emperor’s own private reserve… I came across three bottles of it recently.”

  Giselle’s breath caught. Did all pirates and smugglers have a direct line to the Emperor’s cellars, or had Josiah stolen the wine from their ship? She glanced up at him, trying to determine if his face gave any hint. She might as well have been staring at a stone—his expression betrayed nothing.

  They followed Josiah through more corridors and several galleries. She was struck again by the size of the place, and the openness. She wanted to know more about this place, but something told her asking was a bad idea. Maybe when Jerred was all done with his meeting and they were safely away, he’d give her more information.

  They crossed through a large, heavily guarded doorway into the most lavish set of rooms she’d ever seen. Women garbed in clothes every bit as fine as her borrowed dress bowed low to them as they walked through the rooms, until they finally reached a dining room. There were low, long tables on the floor, flanked by comfortable couches designed for lounging.

  “We eat in the Imperial style tonight,” Josiah said, a strange smile on his face. She felt Jerred stiffen beside her.

  Josiah walked slowly to one of the couches and lowered himself gracefully. There was a menace in his movements, as if he were a predator who had just found a particularly tasty piece of prey.

  “Jerred and I have dined together like this many times,” he added. “Although rarely in such charming company.”

  He gestured for her to lay next to him. She would have preferred to sit on one of the couches across from him, but Jerred shook his head in a barely perceptible manner.

  Great.

  She walked over to where Josiah had indicated and sat on the edge of the couch, wondering just what was the proper way to lie down and eat. She’d seen people eating like this on vids about the Imperial nobility, but never tried it herself. Seemed awfully decadent.

  Still, she managed to get herself seated.

  Jerred took the couch across from them with a grace that surprised her. She wondered again about the stock of Imperial wine on his ship. Surely he didn’t actually move in Imperial circles? There were hundreds of billions of people on the settled worlds. Only four or five thousand had that kind of rank. What were the odds?

  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy dinner,” Josiah said softly, and he rang a small bell conveniently placed on the table. Instantly, a number of scandalously clad women came in carrying platters of sumptuous food.

  It was all she could to keep her mouth from hanging open. This really was like a vid. Soft music began to play as the women brought them food, a haunting melody that seemed somehow very sad to her. She took a sip of her wine. Even though she was prepared for its effect, the strangely erotic tingles it sent through her were startling in their intensity.

  Once again, it seemed to go straight down her throat and between her legs. She shifted, feeling liquid pool there. Jerred caught her gaze from across the table and a wave of longing swept over her. Her muscles actually clenched, she wanted him inside her so badly. A memory of him slamming her up against the wall earlier made her clench her legs. The memory was so enveloping that it took her a moment to realize their host was speaking to her.

  “How long have you and Jerred been…ah…partners?” Josiah asked, taking a drink of his own wine. She turned her attention to him, noticing for the first time how attractive he was. Of course, the disturbing tattoo faced away from her. She examined the feeling carefully, turning it around in her mind. Was she attracted to him? No, not really. She could appreciate him aesthetically, but the longing she felt for Jerred seemed to leave no room for other kinds of longing. It was a good realization. At least now she knew that whatever special properties the wine had, it wasn’t solely responsible for the way she reacted around him.

  “We’ve only been together for a few weeks,” Jerred replied, surprising her. She turned her gaze back to him, catching a hint of a warning in his expression. For some reason he didn’t want Josiah to know they’d met on Transit Three. Fair enough.

  “That’s right, it hasn’t been that long,” she said. “We met in a bar,” she added awkwardly. Great. Now she sounded like a cheap floozy.

  Josiah burst out laughing, and Jerred’s face turned grim.

  “In a bar?” he repeated, “How very unusual. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you pick a woman up in a bar, Jerred. Well, at least not a woman that you kept for more than a few hours. This one must be special.”

  He reached over and grasped her chin firmly, turning it so he could examine her face. She froze, disgusted by his rudeness. Her eyes flew to Jerred, but once again he shook his head very slowly.

  “You see, Jerred knows better than to make me mad,” Josiah said. “Well, at least better than to make me mad in my own stronghold. I would imagine under the right circumstances he’d kill me for touching his woman.”

  He dropped her chin and turned to smile blandly at Jerred.

  “She’s not my woman,” Jerred said, his tone light. “I find it convenient from time to time to acquire a bed mate. Just because you’ve never seen me do it before, hardly makes it a novelty. I’m actually growing tired of her, though. Care to take her off my hands?”

  He smiled back at Josiah, his expression every bit as bland as the other man’s had been.

  “That’s a possibility,” Josiah said, taking another drink of his wine. “But we can discuss that later. For now, shall we eat?”

  Jerred nodded. The women came forward again, this time filling small plates with delicacies from the different platters. One placed a dish covered in candied fruits and nuts before Giselle, and she took a bite resentfully. Damn, it was really good. If only it had been inedible—she would have enjoyed snubbing Josiah’s hospitality. Jerred also seemed to be enjoying his food. She noticed that one of the women has lowered herself to the floor beside Jerred’s couch. She was tall, svelte, and dark, with raven-colored hair that hung well belong her waist. Everything that Giselle wasn’t.

  The woman touched Jerred’s shoulders, and holding up small, particularly choice bits of food for him. He took them from her without sparing a glance for Giselle, and she felt her anger rising. She took another deep drink of the wine, and then set the goblet back down in disgust. The last thing she wanted was to feel more lust for the man. If he wanted to get laid, he could do it with the slut sitting next to him. The woman hardly wore any clothing at all, just a few strategically spaced scarves.

  She felt a hand touch her shoulder, and she turned to find Josiah watching her closely. He smiled, and for the first time she thought there might be a spark of human emotion in those cold, icy blue eyes.

  “I’m sorry Jerred isn’t paying closer attention to you,” he said softly. He ran his fingers across her shoulder lightly, and she felt a frisson of sensation uncurl from where he’d touched her. She pushed it back, unwilling to acknowledge it.

  “You really don’t know him very well, do you?” Josiah continued softly. “He says you’ve been together for several weeks, but I would imagine it’s been less than that. Do you know what he is, for example?”

  She ignored him, carefully taking another bite of fruit. The woman had come around Jerred to kneel in front of him, blocking her view of his face. What was he doing? Did he want her? How could any man not want her, Giselle thought, repulsed. The woman was perfect. Not short and round and spotted, for love of the Goddess. She wasn’t the kind of woman men met in bars. This was the kind of woman who could serve the Emperor without anyone thinking twice about it. She was definitely out of her league here.

  Josiah leaned toward her, whispering in her ear.

  “He’s a spy, you know,” he said softly. His breath brushed against her cheek and she shivered. The tip
of his tongue flicked out, tracing her earlobe so softly that she hardly realized he touched her at first. She quivered even as she willed herself not to respond.

  “He pretends to be a smuggler, but he’s really in service to the Saurellian government. If he knew you knew that, he’d have to kill you.”

  She tried to pull away from him, but somehow his arm had wound its way around her, holding her securely so she couldn’t move. His insidious whispers continued.

  “He’s also a friend of the Emperor’s,” he said softly. “He’s a double agent, and a darling of the Imperial court. He’s bedded hundreds of women there. He fucks them until they give him their husbands’ secrets. How much room do you think has in his life for someone like you?”

  With that, he pulled away from her. Any hint of emotion or warmth was gone from his gaze.

  She looked across the table to see the woman sitting next to Jerred, rubbing his back languidly. Her eyes, so deep and rich and brown, gazed back at Giselle. There were secrets in that gaze. Her touch on Jerred seemed possessive, as if she knew she owned him.

  Or perhaps as if she’d touched him before.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying Celia,” Josiah said smoothly. He turned back to Giselle. “She’s always been his favorite. He likes those tall, dark types.”

  Giselle gritted her teeth and nodded her head. What had she done to deserve this? All she wanted to was a decent, regular job so she could get back on her feet. This simply wasn’t fair.

  “Celia has been asking after you as well, Jerred,” Josiah continued. “I promised her she could have you. Of course, that was before I searched your ship. I’m not sure you’ll be capable of accommodating her once I’m done with you now. I really wasn’t very pleased with what I found there.”

  Giselle looked to Jerred quickly, suddenly afraid.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied lightly. “There’s nothing on my ship that should concern you.”

  “Oh, really?” Josiah said, his tone growing harsh. “I find that interesting, because in one of your encrypted databanks there was a detailed schematic of this station and the five largest ships in my fleet. Why would you want information like that, Jerred?”

  She looked to him, waiting to hear his explanation. She had no idea why he might have such a thing, but she hoped to hell he had a good reason. Josiah didn’t seem very pleased about the situation at all.

  Jerred didn’t reply, though. Instead he sat up and pulled Celia against him, whipping out a knife and holding it to her throat.

  Everyone froze, and Celia gave out a low moan. The music stopped.

  Then Josiah burst out laughing, and the music started again.

  “Oh, Jerred,” he said. “I’m impressed by your play acting, but I really don’t care whether you kill Celia or not.”

  The woman moaned piteously, and her eyes caught Giselle’s. All trace of seduction, superiority was gone now. They were just two women afraid of the men around them. Giselle’s breath caught her in her throat.

  “Please, Jerred,” she whispered. “Don’t kill her. She doesn’t deserve to die, and I don’t think that Josiah cares about her at all.”

  She knew she was right about that. As far she could tell, Josiah didn’t care about anyone. He wasn’t human—or at least he wasn’t human where it counted.

  “Shut up,” Jerred said roughly. “You aren’t part of this. I don’t care what a little whore like you thinks.”

  His words stung her at first. Then she thought back to his comment early, about making friends with Josiah. Was he trying to protect her? Or simply reverting to form…

  She sat back, trying to think what to do next. Before she came up with anything, one of the guards came up behind Jerred and hit him over the head with the butt of his blaster. He dropped like a stone, and Celia scrambled away, clutching at her throat and screaming. A line of crimson blood dripped down between her fingers.

  Josiah sat through it all, a smile on his face, his arm curled around her rigidly. After a moment he turned to her and spoke.

  “Celia will be fine,” he said softly. “Jerred is a weak man. He never intended to hurt her. I know him well enough to predict that. You have a choice to make now.”

  She nodded slowly, watching two men roughly lift Jerred’s body and haul him out the door. Where were they taking him? Would they hurt him?

  “Are you listening to me?” Josiah asked softly. “I really think that you should. You’ll only have one opportunity to make this choice and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

  She swallowed and forced herself to pay full attention to what he said.

  “Now you get to decide where your loyalties lay,” he said smoothly. “You can either choose to stay with Jerred or you can choose to join me.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “How would I join him?”

  “In my prison cells,” he said. “I haven’t decided what to do with him quite yet. Normally I would set an example of man who betrayed me. It’s good for business. On the other hand, I’ve known Jerred for a long time and we’ve had many mutually profitable business dealings with each other. I can’t help but wonder whether I should let sentiment enter my decision-making process.”

  She saw nothing resembling sentiment in his face. He was inhuman—she had more than enough proof of that. Poor Celia still clutched her bleeding throat as the women fluttered around her, trying to help.

  “What about her?’ she asked softly, nodding toward the woman. “Do you care about her?”

  “No,” Josiah said, cocking his head thoughtfully. “Not particularly. I mean her no ill will.”

  She thought for a moment, desperately considering her options. She’d told herself a thousand times that she hated Jerred, but seeing him attacked like that tore at her inside. She cared about him for some reason. There was no point in denying it to herself.

  “What if I decide to stay with you?” she asked softly. “What do you intend to do with me?”

  “Well, I suppose I’d discover what it is about you that intrigued Jerred so,” he said softly, running one finger up along her cheek.

  “He seems to genuinely care about you,” he said. “He’s lying when he says he’s taken other companions. He’s never done anything like that before, and I assure you that I make it my business to know such things. There’s something different about you.”

  She closed her eyes, and then nodded. His fingers cupped her chin, a gesture that should have been comforting. But he gripped her just a little bit too tight, with too much calculation—she had a sudden flash of insight. He wasn’t interested in her sexually. He played with her, just a he’d played with Jerred over dinner. Something else drove this man.

  “What is it you really want?” she asked suddenly, opening her eyes.

  He seemed surprised, and then a look of utter enchantment came across his face.

  “Aren’t you a cute little thing?” he said slowly. “Maybe Jerred isn’t such a fool after all. I’m still thinking about what to do with you,” he continued. “Why don’t you run along and get some rest? We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  “I’m not tired,” she replied. “I’ve only been up for a few hours. The ship’s cycle is different than yours.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said slowly. “You’re still on Transit Three time. I had forgotten that. I’ll get you nice room and you can read or something. I have other business to take care of right now. You’ll be fine on your own, I assume?”

  She nodded, still unsure of him. He hadn’t answered her question.

  He stood, turning away from her.

  “Gwendlyn, please take Miss—what is your name again?”

  “Giselle Canting,” she said slowly, rising to her own feet.

  “Miss Canting to her room,” Josiah said. “Make sure she’s comfortable, and give her full access to the station’s libraries. I certainly wouldn’t want her to get bored.”

  He nodded to her, then stroke out of the room. She loo
ked to Gwendlyn, who smiled and nodded toward the door. Everyone else ignored her.

  Clearly, they didn’t consider her a threat.

  Chapter Eight

  Sitting in the cell, waiting was maddening. He’d known the bastard was up to something from the first. He’d smuggled cargo and information past Josiah a thousand times and the man had never shown an interest in his ship before. Hell, half the time he was Jerred’s partner in the smuggling deal.

  He should have missed his scheduled meeting. Sure, it would have caused some hassle for his superiors, but keeping Giselle safe was more important.

  The thought stopped him cold.

  How was keeping Giselle safe more important than his mission? She was just a woman, one of thousands.

  Even as he told himself that, he knew it was a lie. Giselle was far more than just any woman. Just seeing her lying next to Josiah had made his blood pump hard. He’d wanted to kill the man. He should have done it while he had the chance, he thought slowly. Although the guards would probably have killed them.

  That thought brought him up short.

  He couldn’t imagine doing anything that might hurt Giselle. As long as she was alive, there was still hope for her. He needed to focus on that. The most important thing he could do was deflect Josiah’s attention from her. If he thought she was just a whore, he’d ignore her.

  Hopefully.

  After a year or two she might find a way back to a station, find some new way to support herself. Giselle was strong and she was smart.

  All she needed was a chance…

  He kept repeating that to himself as he sat for hours. The cell was small and sparse. Along one wall was a metal cot; in the corner was a disposal unit. Nothing else. The walls were metal, the door smooth. Even the light was recessed into the ceiling and covered with translucent plast-crete. He tried to sleep, to conserve his energy, but it wasn’t happening.

  Finally, the door slid open, revealing two armed guards

  “The Captain wants to see you,” one of the men said as he stepped into the room. His partner held a blaster pointed at Jerred.