Shades of Allegiance

by Sandy Williams

  He made himself concentrate on the words she’d said to him, not the ones he wanted to say to her, and he followed her gaze to Toman. The man was a dreg with a take-on-the-chill-of-space fearlessness in his stride. He could be an anomaly.

  Or he could just be a big, overconfident brute.

  “How do you know?” Rykus asked.

  “He snapped about a decade ago,” she said, her gaze focusing on Mel’s skimmer parked ahead. “He set a quarter of Bedlam on fire. Killed over sixty people—anyone who got in his way. He went from street to street, torching everything. Dregs tried to talk him down. They asked what he was doing, what he wanted, what had set him off. He never gave a response. He was an empty husk.” She paused. “It was scary.”

  She said the last part in a neutral, flat tone. Few people witnessed anomalies snapping. At least, few people witnessed it and survived. Rykus had. More than once, he’d accompanied the other instructors of Caruth when they’d been sent to take down a former recruit. Some of those anomalies had had madness in their eyes. Others… Well, Ash’s empty husk description was accurate.

  “You saw him?” Rykus asked.

  “I saw the aftermath. And I saw when Mel found him.”

  They reached the soot-stained buildings, which appeared to be housing for the workers. The faded yellow walls were identical except for the pattern of peeling paint and the number of shattered windows.

  “No one knows why he listened to her and no one else,” Ash continued. “But she talked him down. She went right up to him and took his burned hands in hers. He didn’t move. Didn’t even look at her. He just stared into the flames. Then his whole body jerked. He looked at Mel, and she led him away.”

  “What did she say?”

  Ash snorted. “That depends on when you ask her. Whatever it was, the result was the same. Toman is her dreg now. He does whatever she wants, and the fact that she stopped the Beast of Bedlam gave her enough cred to secure a tiny piece of the precinct for herself.”

  They stepped into a section of muddy, missing street. “She’s a boss?”

  “She’s a sub-boss. Bedlam is Bedlam because everyone fights everyone else. No one’s been able to gain enough power to unite it.”

  “Until you,” Rykus said.

  She didn’t respond.

  “You don’t see what’s going on here.” He motioned toward Mel, who’d stopped ahead to speak to someone. “You see her and every other dreg as a threat. You think she’s escorting us into an ambush. You don’t see her scanning the crowd, the buildings, looking for potential threats. You don’t see what Chace has done for you.”

  “Chace only does things for himself. Every dreg—”

  “He’s grown alliances for you, Ash. Or expanded the ones you already had. Denn and his people didn’t risk their lives for some random person who jumped the causeway. They risked their lives for you. Mel might not have been your ally before, but she’s not your enemy now. The workers who were celebrating earlier weren’t doing so because I was there or their friends were saved; they were celebrating because you were doing the saving.”

  She slowed, stopped, then turned to him. “You don’t know Glory.”

  “I know people and I know you. You were a boss, and you did something different. Something no one had tried before.”

  She shook her head. “Everything I did was for power.”

  “What were you doing with the power?”

  She didn’t meet his eyes.

  “You sent sick kids to Mira,” he said. “And you protected her. Hell, you probably were protecting the Seeker’s House, too.”

  Ash’s eyes widened, a split-second blip in her mask that said he was right.

  “I’m not good, Rip. I never have been. Everything you thought of me when I arrived on Caruth is true.”

  “I thought you were strong. A survivor. A beautiful pain in my ass.” He took her hand. “I hate the loyalty training, Ash, and control over you is the last thing I want. I want you. I want you safe. I want you happy. I want you to have your own thoughts and to disagree with me and to argue and drive me crazy. That’s what couples do. But they also laugh together. They experience life together. They agree and solve problems and work through things together. I don’t want you to fall into some standard mold. I want a normal relationship with you.”

  Ash went still. “I will never be normal.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Hey,” Mel called out beside the transport. “Chace is going to raid these streets if I don’t get you back soon. Step it up.”

  Quickly Ash strode toward the other woman. Rykus let out a breath and followed.

  It took over an hour to return to the House, longer than it had taken them to reach the break yards. They had to dodge dregs and traffic. By the time Mel drove through the open gate to the quadrangle behind the House, the sun had set.

  The Seekers must have made multiple trips to the break yards and back. They’d returned with injured workers who were now spread out across half the lighted quad. Seekers weaved among them, administering first aid and passing out rations and water.

  Mel hopped off the transport, plucked a bottle from a blue-robed woman, then continued toward the House like she belonged there.

  Rykus put his hand on Ash’s lower back, guiding her off the transport and toward the back door. Chace exited before they reached it.

  “Took long enough,” he said. “And that was real fucking careless.”

  “Not now.” Rykus put his body between Chase and Ash and reached for the door.

  “He’s got you handled, doesn’t he,” Chace said.

  “I said not now.” He let a threat slide into his voice this time. Chace didn’t want Ash putting herself at risk. It was something they had in common. The difference was Rykus wasn’t trying to control her.

  Smoothly Ash sidestepped around him. “Taking up with Mel, are you? Brilliant idea.”

  Chace locked his gaze on her. “Mel saved your ass.”

  “Mel doesn’t save people. She keeps them around as bargaining chips.”

  “Do you know how many people Scius has at the break yards?”

  “I know he has her.” She jabbed a finger toward Mel, who’d leaned a shoulder against the wall of the House to watch their exchange, bemusement on her face.

  Rykus opened the back door.

  “You check the news feeds lately?” Chace’s question came out studded with barbs.

  Ash stepped toward him. “I swear to the Seeker’s god, Chace. If you—”

  “I didn’t do anything,” he said, not taking his eyes off Rykus. “The data push brought an update of news from around the KU. A big chunk of it was dedicated to Javery.”

  Rykus’s heart rapped against his chest.

  “The Sariceans invaded.” Chace spoke like he was declaring a victory. Like he’d thrown the final blow in a fight and knew that he’d landed a crippling hit. Rykus felt it in his gut, felt it in the way the oxygen rushed out of his lungs.

  “That’s… not possible.” The Sariceans had blockaded the planet, but Javery had been in talks with them. They’d been negotiating, and even if diplomacy had failed, the Coalition had been standing by, ready to help when asked. If the Sariceans attacked, there was no way the triumvirate wouldn’t have requested aid.

  “The ground assault started with one moon,” Chace said. “Then two. Then the Sariceans sent an orbiting station crashing into the Duneth Sea. While the Javerians were trying to keep that disaster under control, the Sariceans launched everything at the capital.”

  Guilt squeezed his windpipe. Chace said something else, but he couldn’t hear the words. His father was Grand General Markin Rykus. He was the head of the military. The Sariceans would need to kill or control him to win the battle, and Rykus knew how those things unfolded in war. The enemy would quash the general’s resistance by any means possible. They’d go after his family.

  His family. His mom. His sister. His brother.

  The numbness spread from
his chest to his limbs. His face and hands prickled, and his brain caught on one thought, one decision, that played over and over again in his mind.

  He never should have left Javery.

  18

  “I need to send some messages,” Rykus said.

  Ash caught his arm. He took her hand between his, squeezed, then he released her and went inside.

  Ash stared after him, not knowing if she should follow. This was unfamiliar territory. She was stepping into it without a plan or intel. She knew how to strategize in war, how to change tactics when plans went to hell, and how to triage a soldier until help arrived, but she couldn’t wrap this injury in bandages and med-gel. She didn’t know how to do this, how to comfort someone who’d had his home world invaded.

  “Who is he?” Mel asked. The woman didn’t sound curious; she sounded like a dreg plotting her next scheme.

  Ash’s nostrils flared, but she turned her glare on Chace, not Mel. Fury leaked through her pores, through her blood. She’d let Chace live, and beneath his hard expression, he was gloating, dancing jigs through the pain of another man.

  “Javery is a flush planet,” Chace said. “It has resources and respect, and it’s not even part of the Coalition. But every politician on Meryk bows to whatever it wants while turning their backs on everything we need. You shouldn’t give one shit about it.”

  “He doesn’t want me to kill you,” Ash said, her voice cold. “That’s the only reason you’re alive.”

  The idiot stepped into her personal space, looked down. “You’re brainwashed, Ash. That’s the only reason you follow orders.”

  The fight exploded out of her, a release of anger and frustration she took out on him. He hit the ground hard, rolled just in time to avoid her knee to his crotch.

  Her knee hit his ribs instead, and she let him get his hands underneath himself to push up. It was a dumb move on his part, allowing her all the time in the world to take his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arm around his neck.

  He stumbled to his feet, carrying her with him while he tried to pry her arm away. When that failed, he slammed her into the wall.

  She ignored the ricochet of pain that exploded from one injury to the next.

  Chace tried a different tactic, swinging his head back to hit hers, but she was too close. She kept her face pressed against his skull, dug her arm even farther beneath his chin.

  Mel watched, entertainment dancing in her eyes. Ash kept her gaze on the woman, kept it there even after Chace’s hand fell and his body went limp. Mel’s smile lasted a few more seconds.

  “Ash.” The woman straightened. “Hey, let him go!”

  Another second passed. Then Mel sprang forward. Ash shoved Chace’s body away, rose to a crouch to intercept Mel, but Mel went straight to Chace and put her hand on his chest. She actually looked pale. Worried. That was interesting. Mel didn’t care about anyone but herself. What scheme was she running here?

  Mel looked up. Rage flickered in her eyes. “Do you have any fucking idea what he’s done for you?”

  Ash rose to a knee, then to her feet. “He’s done what I’ve paid him to do.”

  “He’s armed Scius’s enemies,” Mel spat out. “He’s expanded your allies with food and medicine and protection. Your allies.”

  “He benefited.” Ash kept her voice cold, her expression unaffected. “He’s the head of the network. Dregs are following his orders. He’s practically a boss.”

  Mel let out a sharp laugh and shook her head. “He doesn’t want to be a boss. He wants to resurrect you. You united Bedlam once. You went up against Scius. You gave people something to hope for.”

  “I did nothing.” That constriction in her chest—the one that felt like she was going against the loyalty training—it came out of nowhere, and it didn’t belong. Compulsion wasn’t involved in this conversation. It was her guilt, her conscience, that cinched around her chest.

  “Your actions made it clear what you were after,” Mel said. “And he’s kept it going. For you. For all of us.”

  Chace’s body jerked. He drew in an ugly sounding breath and coughed.

  “Guess it’s good I didn’t kill him then.” She still itched to do it. It was something that was in her control, Chace’s life. Everything else had quickly spiraled into chaos.

  Chace rolled to his side, still wheezing. His gaze locked on hers. Surprisingly, he didn’t look like he wanted to put a bullet in her brain.

  Mel offered a hand to help him up.

  “Chace,” someone called. A blue-robed Seeker with a long, neatly trimmed beard strode toward them.

  “It was a misunderstanding, Gram,” Chace said, weaving slightly as he stood. “It won’t happen again.”

  The guilt squeezed tighter. Barely conscious, and Chace was still trying to cover for her. Trying to keep her from being kicked out of the House.

  The Seeker glanced at Ash. Distaste rolled off him before he returned his focus to Chace. “You need to see something.”

  Chace found his balance. “What is it?”

  Gram jerked his head toward Ash. “She should come too.” He turned without answering the question.

  Chace looked at her and rubbed his throat. He didn’t ask for an apology though. This wasn’t the first time they’d fought. Wasn’t the first time Ash had won either.

  She turned to Mel. “You can leave.”

  “I could also stick around,” Mel said smoothly. “See who you try to kill next.”

  “Go,” Chace said. “I’ll message when we need you.”

  Mel stared at Ash, then shook her head in a motion that said she knew she was making a bad choice. Or that she had made a bad one. Was she really working with Chace? Ash watched her walk across the quad and tried to reconcile this version of Mel with the one she’d been five years ago.

  “You coming?” Chace asked.

  Ash clenched her jaw, then fell into step beside him. Loose gravel crunching under their feet, they followed the Seeker to an entrance closer to the House’s center. Gram led them through a deserted rec room and past the entrance to the empty dining hall. A right turn, and they stepped into the foyer.

  Two grim-faced Seekers, a man and a woman, stood by the open front door. They stared down at the body that had fallen across the threshold.

  No. Not fallen. No way had this person walked there. Shin bones protruded through bloodied pants on both legs. He—Ash was pretty sure it was a he—had been tossed there after getting the life beaten out of him.

  Her feet wanted to root themselves to the ground, but she forced herself to approach. The air turned sticky. Apprehension clung to the salt water that had dried on her skin and stiffened her clothes. Chace knelt next to the body and reached toward the hood that half covered the corpse’s broken face.

  Pushing the cloth away revealed more damage, a swollen shut eye and thick, congealed blood. Something was in the man’s mouth, shoved in so hard only a few teeth still hung from the man’s gums.

  Chace wiped his fingers across a semiclean portion of the corpse’s longcoat, smearing blood that should have been on Ash’s hands because she knew who this was. She’d done this. She’d sent Denn off to find Hauch.

  Chace straightened. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “We can attend to the body,” Gram said, “but Bian will want you to leave. Scius knows you’re here. He’ll throw more than one body at us next time.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Chace said again, firmer this time.

  Ash stepped forward, staring hard at Denn’s broken face and the thing shoved into his mouth. It looked like a comm-cuff. She crouched to pry it out, almost certain she knew who it belonged to.

  More teeth came loose when she pulled the device free. It wasn’t a Glory-made cuff. It was durable, fast, and well encrypted, exactly like the one wrapped around her wrist.

  She didn’t want to swipe her thumb across the blood-covered screen, didn’t want to read the message Scius had left for her or see the ID etched alon
g the back, but she was unable to stop herself. Unable to stop the dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. Unable to stop the truth that strangled her like a telepathic hand on her throat.

  Scius had Hauch.

  She clenched the blood-covered cuff in her hand, wanting to break it, to break Scius and the Sariceans and every individual who screwed with her universe. She was cracking. She felt the fissures in her self-control, the scream she wanted to let loose, the violence she needed to unleash.

  Her hand shook. She squeezed the cuff tighter and tried to breathe through the turbulence. Rykus’s home world was under attack, his family’s status unknown, and he was keeping it together. She hadn’t lost Hauch yet, and she wouldn’t. No more soldiers would die because of her.

  A hand gripped her shoulder.

  “You can’t meet Scius on his turf,” Chace said. “You can’t meet him on his schedule.”

  She shoved his hand away. “Hauch is better than this planet. I won’t let him die here.”

  “Scius won’t kill him. Not yet. You have time to think about this.”

  “I don’t need to think,” she said. “I have something he wants.”

  Chace grimaced. Of course he did because this wasn’t what he’d planned to trade for the causeway. He wanted Ash to use the code she’d planted to shut it down, to show her power and recruit dregs to her side.

  “It won’t work,” Chace said. “Scius will kill him. Then he’ll come here and kill Seekers until you turn it over. Lives mean nothing to him. If you barter for Hauch, he’ll know you care.”

  She’d have to work around that somehow. She’d find a way. She couldn’t leave Hauch there. Scius would torture him, hurt him because of Ash.

  Pressure built in her chest: pain, rage, frustration.

  She stood, raised her hands to the back of her neck, and paced. All this shit was because of her.

  Distantly, she heard Chace tell Gram and the other Seekers to go. He said something else to her, but she didn’t hear him. She was trying to hold her thoughts together, trying to keep a level head. It didn’t work.

  She roared in frustration and kicked the door. It slammed all the way open, then bounced back for her to kick again. A hinge broke. A third kick made the wood crack down the center.