Rykus stepped into the House, touched his hand to his forehead then to his heart, and said, “Fortune on your path, Patriarch.”
Bian’s gaze snapped to him. He erased the rage from his face, said, “And to you, Seeker,” then turned back to Ash and snarled, “Get out!”
“Just me?” She sashayed farther into the foyer, her gaze sweeping across the artwork hanging on the walls, then up to the high ceiling. “Or all of us? Patriarch.”
That pause before “patriarch” was familiar. It disrupted the air with the same intentional affront as when she mocked Rykus with a sir.
“You.” Bian’s face shaded red. “You were dead and unmissed.”
“Unmissed? How very religious of you.”
Rykus watched her stroll to a framed image of a blue-oceaned planet painted onto a dark background. A molecular cloud of pinks and purples swept across the canvas. Little clusters of stars and swirling gases created footstep-like formations that traveled the celestial object. It was a painting of what all Seekers sought: the God-touched planet that would bring peace and prosperity to the KU.
“This is new.” Ash jabbed her finger into the planet.
“You are not granted sanctuary.”
“Bian.”
Two of the Devout entered from a hallway.
“We cannot turn them away,” the older, gray-haired man said. The younger man said nothing, but his jaw went slack. He scanned Ash head to toe, then he took a half step forward before he stopped and steadied his features.
“We can turn her away,” Bian said. “She’s not a Seeker, and if Scius learns she’s here, he’ll demolish this building and everyone in it.”
Ash looked over her shoulder. “He better not learn I’m here then. Hey, Emmit.”
She gave the younger man a too-friendly smile.
“She was inside when she requested sanctuary?” the older man asked.
“By a whole half foot.” She ambled back to the center of the foyer and stopped directly in front of Bian. “A Devout Seeker would welcome me to his House. He would preach and proselytize and pressure me to join the search for the God-touched planet.”
“Bian.” Mira stepped forward. “I’m sorry. We didn’t want to come here, but we need help. Just a day to sleep and recover. We jumped the causeway and—”
“You did what?”
Mira grimaced. “It wasn’t by choice. Scius razed my clinic. He sent people to kill me when I tried to pick up my shipment from the spaceport. Ash saved my life.”
“And Ash is the reason her clinic lasted as long as it did,” Chace put in. “She paid for its protection.”
“If that’s the case, why was it burned down?” Bian demanded, the fury in his eyes rivaling the hate in his voice.
“A hiccup in funds,” Ash answered.
Bian’s jaw clenched. “Mira can stay. No one else.”
“Dad,” the younger Seeker, Emmit, said. “Look at them.”
Bian’s mouth turned down. They weren’t dripping puddles on the floor, but they were damp and battered and exhausted. Ash had always been good at disguising her injuries behind smiles and distracting-as-hell body language, but Rykus knew the little hitches to look for, the shallow breaths, the way she stood too still when she wasn’t actively trying to distract someone. She needed rest more than all of them.
With a jaunty little dip in the movement, Ash took a step toward Bian.
Rykus knew what would come next. Ash would deliver a carefully worded sentence intended to snap Bian’s patience. She’d accompany it with an exacerbating smile and cavalier tilt to her head.
“Ash,” Rykus warned.
She remained in front of Bian, still poised to take down the authority figure.
“Patriarch.” Rykus changed tactics and eased in front of Ash. “We won’t stay long. We need food and rest, and we need to get to the capsule before it leaves the system.”
“It leaves in an hour.”
Rykus bit back a curse. “Then we’ll be on the next one.”
Bian’s jaw clenched and unclenched over and over again. Ash must have given the man hell for him to react like that. Patriarchs were calm and consoling by nature. They wanted to help everyone they came in contact with. Bian had probably tried to help Ash, but Ash being Ash, she had used his altruism to find weaknesses in his composure.
“You’ll leave and not return?” Bian asked.
“Yes.”
Chace’s head swung his way. Rykus didn’t look at the man. He knew what he’d see, a protest and a challenge.
“You may remain out of the way”—he looked at Ash—“until three days pass or the next capsule arrives. Whichever comes first. If Scius’s people come looking for you, you will leave. If there is theft or damage or debauchery of any kind, you leave.”
Ash did the head tilt. “What, precisely, do you mean by debauchery?”
“Ash,” Rykus said, exasperation seeping into his voice.
“I just want to make sure the rules are clear.”
He followed up his warning with a glare that would make an errant asteroid rethink its path.
She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll be perfect. Promise.”
She’d be hard to keep in line.
Either Bian believed her—doubtful—or the man knew he couldn’t win. He was the patriarch of the House. If he was going to enforce the rules, he had to follow them. He had no choice but to grant them sanctuary.
“Handle this,” Bian said to the other two Seekers, then he left.
“Emmit.” The older man turned to the younger one. “Show them to the guest dorms. I’ll have Logan tell the kitchen we have company and gather clean clothing.”
He touched his forehead and heart, then made his exit.
Emmit’s demeanor changed the second the other Seekers were gone. He took three quick steps toward Ash, looped one hand around her waist, the other behind her neck, and he pulled her into a rough, deep kiss.
Emmit’s hand dropped to Ash’s ass. Rykus’s gaze followed it. He didn’t know why. He should be focused on the man’s mouth—specifically, on bashing his teeth to the back of his skull—but that hand ran down the curve of Ash’s ass and pulled her hips into his.
About the time Rykus decided it would be okay to break the man’s fingers, Ash peeled the hand away and pushed Emmit back.
Not like Rykus would have pushed him back. Not even close.
“Presumptuous, Emmit,” Ash said.
The man fucking beamed. “I knew you weren’t dead.”
She gave him a smile that bordered too close to flirtatious. “It’s good to see you too.”
“Where have you been?”
“Out and about. You still repairing flyers?”
“I’ve got some things you might want to take a look at.” He grinned.
“Rooms,” Rykus bit out.
Emmit seemed to notice him for the first time. “Right. You need rest. Come on.”
He led the way to a flight of stairs.
Ash paused at the bottom step and waved Chace and Mira on. She kept her eyes on them but said to Rykus, “Don’t get cranky.”
“Anyone else going to kiss you?” The question came out harsher than he intended. It wasn’t Ash’s fault. She’d cut it off.
“It’s a possibility,” she said and climbed the first step.
He grabbed her arm. She looked down at it, then at him.
He didn’t know what he was going to say. That he would throttle the next person who touched her? That she needed to make it clear she was unavailable? That he was going to have an uncivil conversation with Emmit and Chace and anyone else who acted like they owned a piece of her?
Everything he wanted to say sounded petty and possessive, so he released her arm with a quiet, “I don’t like it.”
Some of the tension left her body. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need an apology. I need…” He faded off, frustrated.
“I know,” she said again, this time with a small
smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.
Yes. That was what he needed. He needed her in his arms. He needed her safe and happy and curled against him in the night. He needed her off this planet and free from the responsibilities she tried so hard to carry on her own.
She hitched in a breath. Her eyes heated before she turned and hurried up the stairs.
She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Emmit had stolen a kiss. Not quite fair that he couldn’t. Because Ash didn’t want him to be targeted by old enemies.
He climbed the stairs. He respected Ash’s wishes—he’d keep his distance—but the second she changed her mind, he would have her beneath him.
Overused muscles protested the climb to the fourth floor. Emmit waited beside an open door.
“You and Chace will take this room,” he said to Rykus.
“And Ash and Mira?”
“Farther down the hall.” He motioned for the women to follow.
Rykus refrained from asking where he slept—probably it was on a different floor reserved for Seekers—but he waited in the hall until Emmit opened another door.
He waited until he closed it too. Emmit noticed, and his smile slipped. Maybe the guy would think twice before he touched Ash again.
When Emmit walked away, Rykus entered his and Chace’s room. Two bunk beds covered in charity-blue blankets lined the back and left walls. A door opened to a small bathroom on the right. Chace was in there, one hand braced on the counter while he leaned over the sink and washed some of the dirt and seawater from his face.
Rykus eyed the closest bed. He should sleep, but he didn’t want to, not without Ash next to him.
“You made a mistake following her out here.”
Rykus looked back toward the restroom. “Excuse me?”
Chace tossed a hand towel over his shoulder. “She’s using you.”
“Oh.” He filled the single syllable with an overabundance of I-don’t-care.
“Ash doesn’t do emotions,” Chace said. “Not genuine ones at least. She’s letting you think you have a chance. She needs something from you. When she gets it, you’ll be sidelined.”
“I know where I stand with Ash.”
“You’re infatuated.” He said the last word with disdain. “I understand. Ash is fucking amazing in bed, but you’re nothing but a passing interest. When she’s tired of you, someone else will step up to play.”
Rykus took a step toward the dreg but forced his hands to remain loose at his sides. “You’re worried I’ll take her away. That’s a good instinct.”
Chace’s eyes turned colder. “Ash won’t let you drag her off-planet. She doesn’t take commands from anyone.”
“She’s a soldier.”
“She’s AWOL.”
“She’s on leave.” He took another step forward. “And I have the authority to revoke it when I see fit.”
Chace smirked. “You’ve just given me a reason to kill you.”
“I’ve given you a reason to try.”
Chace’s hand flexed.
Rykus wasn’t one to pick fights, but he wanted Chace to throw a punch. He wanted to get this conflict behind them.
Chace chuckled. “You want a face-to-face, fair fight. That’s not how we fix problems here. It’s not how Ash fixes problems. Assholes and off-worlders tend to wake up with knives in their backs. Piece of advice: you might think about finding somewhere else to sleep.”
Well, look at that. Chace wasn’t an idiot. The man knew he couldn’t win against him. He’d also just issued a threat Rykus was fairly sure he’d try to see through. It would be a risk sharing a room with the guy.
Good thing he didn’t have to.
“You know what?” Rykus smiled, showing teeth. “I think I will sleep somewhere else.”
13
She heard him enter the room. Felt him stop beside her bed.
Mira was in the shower. They had some privacy. With her eyes still closed, she reached for his hand.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, threading his fingers between hers.
“I’m going to shower before I sleep.”
“That an invitation?”
She opened her eyes then and gave him a tired smile. “You’re learning how to flirt.”
The mattress sank when he sat beside her. “I’ve always known how to flirt. Just haven’t done it with you.”
She rolled to her back and blinked up at him. “I’ve been missing out.”
He returned her smile, leaned down, and kissed her.
It was soft and gentle, just what she needed right then. She was feeling a little broken, a little fragile, now that they weren’t potentially seconds away from death.
He brushed her hair back from her face. “We need to talk.”
She turned in to his hand.
“Was it Trevast?” he asked.
She went rigid. “What?”
“When we left Meryk, you were late boarding the Kaelais because you were talking to his widow. You took something from his house, didn’t you? Something Specialist Teal helped you decrypt.”
Well, hell. She thought she had been discreet. She’d threatened Teal, made her promise not to speak a word about what she’d done for Ash or what she had learned.
Ash couldn’t have this conversation lying on her back, so she pushed herself into a sitting position. She had to remind herself to breathe when the wound on her side sent a sharp throb through her body.
When the pain passed, she said, “Teal talked to you.”
“We had a conversation. She was extremely vague but made it clear something had unsettled you.”
“I thought you were ignoring me on the Kaelais.”
“Avoiding, not ignoring. Plus Captain Furyk was keeping tabs on you. He’s not a fan of anomalies.”
She snorted. “I could tell.”
“So what does Trevast have to do with Neilan Tahn?”
It felt like three g’s of pressure pushed into her chest.
“You shouldn’t know that name.” Trevast shouldn’t have either.
“What’s the connection, Ash?”
She closed her eyes. She told herself she didn’t want to talk about it because she wanted to protect Trevast’s reputation. Really, she didn’t want to talk about it because it still hurt to believe it.
“Trevast told us telepathy existed right before Jevan boarded our shuttle.” Ash tried not to let the memory roar to life. She tried not to remember the smell of singed flesh and the sticky warmth of her teammates’ blood. “I’d assumed the information was in the files we’d stolen, but the Coalition never found a connection. They never found anything about factions either.”
Rykus placed his hand on her thigh.
“I know my mind was fucked up, but I’m certain Trevast’s last words were to fight the factions. So I went to his home, broke into his databases, and captured every blip of data that acted like it didn’t want to be seen.”
“And?”
“And it was locked up so tight I had to enlist Teal’s help,” she said. Ash was good at hack-sig. Teal was better. The only thing that lightened that sting was that Teal was also an anomaly. She hooked onto data and codes the way Ash hooked onto fighting and survival.
“She decrypted messages between Trevast and Tahn.” Ash’s throat burned when she swallowed. “Trevast was supposed to kill me because I’d been unlocked.”
“Unlocked?” Rykus said. “That’s the term War Chancellor Hagan’s assistant used, wasn’t it? After he tried to kill you on the capsule?”
Ash nodded. That was months ago, right after the Coalition recaptured her on Ephron. They’d still thought her a traitor then, and they were sending her back to Caruth to see how a loyalty-trained anomaly was able to subvert their brainwashing. Rykus had stopped Stratham from adding a lethal dose of sedative to her IV line, but before they’d gotten more information from him, Valt had contacted them. He’d found Dr. Katie Monick, Rykus’s ex-fiancée, and he’d threatened her. The
only way Ash had been able to save her had been to kill Stratham. Then she’d gone to Valt in an attempt to trade her life for Katie’s.
“I think that’s the first step to making us susceptible to them,” Ash said. “Valt unlocked me somehow, then he started tampering with my mind.”
“But Trevast didn’t kill you.”
Her heart fucking hurt. “He told Tahn he couldn’t do it. Because I was family.”
Rykus didn’t say anything; he didn’t push. He kept his hand on her leg and let his thumb slide back and forth, a soothing, comforting motion.
She took a breath and continued. “Trevast was a telepath. Tahn must be too. It would explain how he was able to build his empire so quickly. If I can get to him, I can unravel this thing.”
“Tahn wanted you dead,” Rykus said. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to try to get in touch with him?”
“I have to, and that’s why I’m here. Credits and criminals flow in and out of Glory. Tahn has his hand in the pockets of the oligarchy and every precinct boss. I’ve… interfered with a few of his business interests. And I’ve made it clear I can interfere with more.”
His thumb stopped moving. “It doesn’t have to be you that does this.”
“I know the right connections to sabotage.”
He shook his head. “You’re trying to take on the universe solo again. Why didn’t you tell Tersa what you were doing?”
“Tell the minister prime that I’m running off to Glory to meet up with a crime lord who might be a telepath? She would have sent the whole fleet with me, and Tahn wouldn’t set foot in the system.”
“You could have told me.”
She lifted her brows. “What would you have done? Abandoned Javery to come help me?”
His smile reminded her of the happy, carefree grin he’d given his sister on his home world. A little playful, a little relaxed and upbeat. Definitely not the soldier’s glower she was used to.
It tugged at something inside her. Tugged on her guilt too. “You should still be on Javery.”
He wrapped his arm around her. “I’m right where I need to be.”
She leaned into him. It was a foreign feeling, this need to be close to someone. She’d spent the majority of her life keeping people at a distance, but he’d slipped past her defenses. She craved him, craved his body and his presence and his strength. She knew who she was when she was with him.
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