Shades of Allegiance

by Sandy Williams

  She turned her attention to Chace. She’d almost killed him a few minutes ago, but he stood there unmoved. Calm.

  Calm. She had to find that emotion. Had to wrap it around her before she encountered Rykus again because he couldn’t know about this. He had his planet to worry about. His family. His home. This was her shit to take care of.

  She shoved Hauch’s cuff into her pocket. “I need you to get Rykus and Mira to the capsule.”

  “No. You’re not running off to Scius’s compound on your own. If he—”

  “That’s what I need from you, Chace. You said yourself, Rykus is a weakness. He’ll come with me, and Scius will threaten him. I’ll be distracted. Do you understand? I won’t be able to function like I’ll need to. And Mira needs to leave. Promise me, Chace.”

  She held his gaze and watched him put the threads together. She saw the moment he realized just how big a vulnerability Rykus really was. His jaw clenched, and the muscle under his left eye twitched. Finally he said, “What do I get out of it? You’re not staying.”

  “I’ll kill Scius.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “I’ll gut his organization. There will be a power vacuum. You’re in a good position to step into it.”

  Something flashed through his eyes. It should have been greed or victory or satisfaction that his scheme had played out exactly like he’d planned. It wasn’t though. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotion.

  “You would back me?” he asked, his tone oddly hollow.

  “People will know we’re associated,” she said. “I won’t have to say a word.”

  He studied her. This time all his thoughts and emotions were closed off. She didn’t understand. He wanted Scius destroyed, wanted a shift in the power structure. She would make it happen. Did he not believe that?

  “You know what I am, Chace. I’m more than I was before. I won’t fail.”

  A long moment passed before he said, “I know.”

  Something in Ash’s chest twisted hard. She didn’t deserve Chace’s loyalty, but she had it. He’d do what needed to be done.

  So would she.

  Ash’s plan solidified while she showered, while she tended to her wounds and gathered a few supplies. When she had the final piece in place, she made her way to the garage north of the quad and found Emmit. He was working on one of the Seeker’s transports and looked thoroughly exhausted.

  He smiled when he saw her though, but that smile disappeared when she began to explain her plan and what she needed from him. When she finished, she held out her comm-cuff.

  He stared at it as if it was a flash grenade.

  “If you don’t hear from me before the capsule leaves,” she said, “give this to your father.”

  “What is it?” he asked, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

  “Just give it to him.”

  “If he knows it’s from you—”

  “Don’t tell him.”

  Emmit sighed and accepted the cuff. “Okay.” He slipped it into his pocket. “But I fully expect to hear from you.”

  Ash plastered a smile onto her face.

  19

  Rykus shoved his chair back from the console. He was so damn useless. The only thing he’d done was send messages to his parents and siblings, to a few friends who might be able to check on them, and to Captain Naethan Furyk. The latter had command of the Kaelais, the Coalition’s most advanced sentient ship. He’d know Javery’s status. Whether he’d pass info on to Rykus, he didn’t know. It almost didn’t matter. Rykus wouldn’t get an update until another data dump arrived.

  He logged off the terminal, erasing one of the dozens of articles he’d read that had confirmed Chace’s words. The Sariceans had launched a ground assault. They’d taken full control of the thrysite mines, and they bombarded locations that put up any resistance against their curfews and laws.

  The articles hadn’t reported on the location of the Coalition Fleet, but they had made it clear that certain member planets blamed the Coalition for not providing aid.

  It wasn’t the Coalition’s fault. The triumvirate hadn’t requested help in time.

  Stupid. Just so damn stupid.

  He left the console. He needed to move. He needed to find Ash. He shouldn’t have left her like he had. He should have made sure she got to medical care. At the least, he should have made sure she took the overdue booster.

  He pinged her cuff as he left the communications room. Seekers were returning from the break yards. The dining hall had filled with exhausted men and women. They were crammed around a few tables to make room for triage. The injured Gloridians should be in hospitals, not lying on a cold, dirty floor. It was unbelievable that this was the best care they could get.

  He didn’t see Ash, so he pinged her again, then tried to find her in the room they’d slept in last night. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the rec area either. There was no sign of her or Chace or Mira. He didn’t see anyone he recognized.

  His footfalls grew heavy. The news about Javery had blindsided Ash. He’d seen it in the way her eyes widened. He’d seen it in the way she’d tried and failed to scrape up something to say. But he hadn’t been thinking about her at that moment. He hadn’t considered how the loyalty training might twist her emotions. She didn’t react well to things that hurt him. Moreover, she didn’t react well to things that threatened the Coalition. The attack on Javery—and the accusations and conspiracies surrounding it—would knock Ash off-orbit.

  So where the hell was she? And why wasn’t she answering his pings?

  He stopped the next Seeker who crossed his path. The man knew of Ash—apparently, nearly everyone in the House knew of her—but he hadn’t seen her. Neither did the next two Seekers he asked. He was about to ping Chace when Ash’s name finally popped up on his cuff.

  “Where are you?” he demanded.

  A long pause then, “I’m in the garage. The metal building on the north side of the quad. You okay?”

  “I’m almost there,” he said. He killed the connection, slipped out the back door, then strode across the night-darkened courtyard. The garage’s sliding door was cracked open but not widely enough. He shoved it aside and entered.

  The place smelled like dirty metal. Sheets of it were piled against the far wall along with layers of hardened insulation and refracting plastics. Ash stood next to Emmit in the center of the garage. The latter had pried a panel off the side of a transport.

  He strode toward them. “You didn’t answer your pings.”

  “I was in the middle of something,” Ash said.

  “In the middle of this?” He nodded at the transport.

  “In the middle of showering and taking care of myself, but yes. I ran into Emmit.”

  Rykus looked Ash over. She had cleaned up and changed clothes, and she’d either seen a medic or treated her injuries herself. Med-gel glistened on her cheek, and a bandage peeked out under the cuff of a long-sleeved shirt she wore open. Her undershirt was clean and white, so she must have taken care of that side wound too. She seemed okay, so why was suspicion clawing at his spine?

  He looked at Emmit. Emmit immediately looked at the transport.

  “She got a little beaten up on the rides to and from the break yard,” Emmit said, “but I’ll get her up and running by noon tomorrow. We’ll load her with fuel and get you to the warehouse. Ash said the SG-220 can get you to space.”

  Rykus looked at Ash.

  “We’ll be cutting it close,” she said, “but we should make it to the capsule before it leaves.”

  “You’re leaving with me?”

  She looked him straight in the eye. “Yes.”

  From the moment they’d run into each other at the spaceport, Ash had been planning to shove him into a capsule with Mira while she stayed behind to deal with Tahn herself. More than once, he’d had to make it clear he wasn’t going anywhere without her. Now she wanted him to believe she was suddenly dropping her mission to leave with him?

  �
��What are you planning, Ash?”

  “Mel still has some of that cheap stealth varnish. We’ll reapply a coat to the 220. It’ll be good enough for a single trip through the atmosphere.”

  “Scius will be watching,” Rykus said. “Anti-data paint won’t help against a targeted scan.”

  “I’ve arranged for a distraction.”

  “Scius doesn’t sound like an idiot. He won’t take his eyes off this province.”

  “Ships will be all over the coast, surveying the damage,” Ash said. “We won’t be noticed.”

  She had an answer for everything. It was like she’d planned for all his questions. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the way she maintained eye contact, and he didn’t like the way Emmit preoccupied himself by tinkering with the wires inside the transport’s open panel.

  Ash finally sighed and looked away. “I know you won’t leave without me. I also know that you have to go. It’s possible I can…” She looked at Emmit, then stepped closer to Rykus and lowered her voice. “It’s possible I can finish my mission on the capsule. And you’re my fail-safe, Rip. The Sariceans’ attack not only hurts you, but it hurts the Coalition. I have to go too.”

  She fidgeted with the bottom hem of her shirt. She didn’t like admitting weaknesses. Was that what this was? She was uncomfortable being vulnerable? It was possible. Hadn’t he just been thinking about the loyalty training and its effects on her? In that context, it made sense for Ash to drop everything to help preserve and protect the Coalition.

  On the other hand, when Ash was aware of the loyalty training’s influence, she threw herself into a hard reverse and did everything in her power to resist it.

  “You haven’t taken the booster yet, have you?” he asked.

  Guilt flickered in her eyes. “No. It’s in my room. I can do it now.”

  He nodded. “Go on. I’m going to get cleaned up, then I’ll meet you.”

  A smile bent her lips, and his stomach jumped in response. She put her arms around his neck and rose up onto her toes to kiss him. For the first time in hours, he relaxed, giving in to the moment, to the kiss, to the feel of the woman pressed against him. He needed her. He needed to shut out the rest of the universe and the bleak futures that wanted to smother him.

  She gave him one of her sultry grins when she broke the kiss, and it took everything in him not to follow immediately on her heels. He watched her walk away, and when she left the garage, he looked at Emmit.

  Emmit had watched her walk away too. The man cleared his throat, gave Rykus a shrug, then turned back to the open panel where Rykus was very certain he was working on nothing.

  “Tomorrow at noon?” Rykus asked.

  “Yeah. Possibly late morning, but no earlier than that.”

  Rykus nodded, waited a moment, and then said, “Have you seen Mira?”

  “She was at the break yards when I left. Knowing her, she’s still there.”

  “Ash won’t leave without her,” he said. “She might not leave with her either.”

  Emmit’s tinkering slowed to a stop.

  “You know Ash well,” Rykus said.

  Emmit half turned away from the open panel. “Probably not as well as you.”

  “But well enough. I need another set of eyes on her.”

  Emmit finally looked at him. “You don’t trust her.”

  No, he didn’t—not on this—but he wanted to avoid a conversation about anomalies and fail-safes, so he said, “I don’t trust Chace. If he finds out we’re leaving, he’ll try to stop us.”

  “I don’t think Chace will cross her, but sure,” Emmit said. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “Thank you, and thanks for helping us get out of here.” He nodded at the transport.

  “No problem. I’ll let you know when the fuel’s loaded. Then we can head to the warehouse.”

  Rykus left the garage, feeling marginally better, but Emmit’s help was the backup plan. The main plan was to keep Ash in sight at all times. Tonight wouldn’t be a problem. Tonight he would make sure Ash spent every second in his bed.

  20

  Ash wasn’t sure he bought it.

  Rykus was suspicious, definitely. That’s why he’d asked questions. Each one had hit her chest like a crowbar, trying to peel the confession out. She’d let a little truth escape when she admitted the loyalty training was twisting up her plans. That seemed to have appeased him.

  He’d be coming to her room soon, and she would appease him again. Maybe two or three times.

  Heat stirred in her stomach, then pulsed between her legs. It had been too long since they’d been together. She needed to feel his body slamming into hers. She needed that connection, that release. She needed him to know she loved him despite what she was about to do.

  She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She did love him, and it scared the shit out of her.

  She fought back the panic and stepped into the deserted corridor that led to her temporary room. Most of the Seekers were still at the break yards. The ones who weren’t were attending to the injured or they’d already fallen into their beds, exhausted.

  A tickle, a sort of sixth sense she’d been born with, scratched at the back of her mind. Someone was behind her. He or she moved too quietly to be a random person walking the hall.

  She paused and looked back. She didn’t see anyone, didn’t hear anything, but someone was there. It was an instinct, a loose thread in the silence that she could almost follow to its source.

  She continued down the hallway, her senses heightened. There was something familiar about this feeling, like she’d lived the moment before.

  She was almost to her door. She used the excuse of reaching for the handle to turn again. She recognized Toman’s face the instant he attacked.

  Ash’s hands shot up too late. He locked an arm around her neck and cut off her air supply.

  She stumbled sideways. Kicked off the wall.

  A brief trickle of air gave her another moment of consciousness. She dropped her weight and twisted.

  Just in time, she slipped free. A half-second delay and that arm would have been permanently locked beneath her chin. Another half-second, and he’d have snapped her neck.

  She blocked a punch to her face, another to her torso, then three more that came in quick succession. Each one threatened to crack bones. Toman was strong and quick and lethal, a fucking anomaly she’d let get too close.

  “Knew I shouldn’t have trusted Mel,” she wheezed.

  He charged.

  Her back slammed into the wall, knocking what little air she had from her lungs.

  Shit. She was in no condition to win this fight. She wasn’t armed. Toman was. He had a gun holstered at his right hip. He could have shot her in the back and ended this.

  Why hadn’t he?

  “You want to keep this quiet,” she said, retreating as he silently stalked toward her.

  Screw him. She wouldn’t be quiet.

  She roared and charged.

  The beast fell for her feint toward his gun.

  She punched his throat, followed up with a kick at the side of his knee, but he’d ducked his chin enough to keep the blow from killing him. He choked and gagged but didn’t go down. He barreled through her defense and shoved her head into the wall.

  Black spots clouded her vision. She fought by instinct, keeping his hands from her throat.

  His fist pounded into her stomach once, twice. Her knees buckled.

  Something scraped up her back as she went down. A door handle. She grabbed it, scrambled inside the room, and kicked the door.

  It burst back open.

  She rolled away, grabbed the first thing her hand touched, and threw it.

  A pillow, damn it.

  Toman didn’t blink.

  Ash cursed, threw a second pillow, and leaped to her feet.

  She didn’t get halfway up before Toman slammed into her. Her back cracked into the edge of the bed. She screamed, partly because it hurt but also because she hop
ed to draw in someone who might distract him for one fucking second.

  His hands wrapped around her throat. She grabbed at them, tried to pry them away, tried to kick him off, tried to breathe.

  “I’ll kill Mel,” she rasped. “Chace will… kill her.”

  Toman’s hands tightened. He shifted all his weight on top of her, leaned in close so the only thing in her blurry-edged vision were his cold gray eyes.

  “I’m not here for Mel,” Toman said.

  Even though she was weakening, losing, failing, a shot of surprise hit her. Toman hadn’t spoken to anyone but Mel since he’d snapped.

  At least, he hadn’t spoken to anyone who’d lived.

  She kept fighting, kept trying to find that one millimeter of movement that would let her slip free. But he was too strong.

  Her body flushed with a cold, sickly heat. A prickling started in her cheeks. It moved down, stabbing along her arms and legs.

  Toman leaned closer. “I’m here for Neilan Tahn.”

  She didn’t feel the shock of that statement, didn’t feel the sting of failure or the fear of what came next; she only felt a deep, unfathomable sense of loss, a sense of remorse. She wouldn’t get another moment with Rip.

  Pain slashed through her lungs. She couldn’t lift her hands. Couldn’t move her legs. Couldn’t move.

  Pressure against her mouth. Her lungs screamed again, and her chest… it felt like it had caved in.

  “Breathe, damn you!”

  Her body spasmed, every muscle cinching up at once. The breath she drew in scraped through a too-tight throat.

  She flung herself to her side, another inhale assaulting her lungs. She wheezed over and over again, trying to find the rhythm which had once come naturally.

  “There you go, baby.” A warm hand stroked down her back. “You’ve got it. Just breathe.”

  Rykus.

  She opened her eyes, needing to see his face. Instead, she found herself lying cheek pressed to the floor with Toman’s dead gray eyes staring at her. A trickle of blood ran from his mouth. It mingled with the puddle expanding beneath his body.