Shades of Allegiance

by Sandy Williams

  It wasn’t false hope. Ash was alive. They just had to find each other again.

  The rumble of the shuttle’s engine almost disguised the vibration of his comm-cuff. He looked at the screen, read the words Contact Unknown.

  It’s not false hope, he assured himself.

  Several seconds passed. Finally he accepted the call.

  “Commander Rykus,” Tahn said pleasantly. “I believe I have something you want.”

  33

  This wasn’t the first time Ash had woken in this med-bay. But it was the first time she’d woken there without her fail-safe.

  Wasn’t it?

  Her memories were murky. Very murky.

  “Good evening, Lieutenant.”

  She focused toward the foot of her bed. Tahn stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Cas was beside him, scowling like usual.

  Hadn’t she left his ship? She couldn’t remember.

  She tried to reach up to rub her head, but something tightened around her wrist.

  “Apologies for the restraints,” Tahn said, “but we weren’t certain what your mental state would be when you awakened. If you’re feeling stable, they can be removed.”

  Stable. That was a funny way of putting it.

  “I’m fine,” she said, her voice raspy. “And thirsty.”

  “We can remedy that.” He nodded to Cas. A little rougher than necessary, the woman unfastened Ash’s restraints.

  Ash braced herself, then sat up.

  Tahn handed her a cup. She accepted it, trying to keep her confusion from showing on her face. She was pretty sure she should be hurting. She usually did when she woke in a med-bay.

  But she was waking up with gaps in her memory in a med-bay on a ship filled with top-notch technology and telepaths.

  She set the cup aside without drinking. “What did you do?”

  Tahn smiled. “You seem to be doing quite well. Do you feel up to a walk?”

  “Do you feel up to explaining things?”

  “Cas has clothes for you. I’ll wait outside.”

  After the door shut behind him, Cas tossed her a black shirt and a pair of pants. Ash slipped out of a med-gown and pulled on the clothes. It was still unsettling that she didn’t hurt.

  She sat to put on the boots and socks Cas dropped at her feet. When she straightened, she met Cas’s glare. If the telepath didn’t back off, Ash would make her sorry they’d healed her injuries.

  “I’m ready,” Ash said, making sure the double meaning was clear.

  Cas sniffed. She took a step toward the door, then hesitated. When she looked back over her shoulder, she was still scowling, but she said, “I hope he suffered.”

  A memory peeled open in Ash’s head. Valt, bleeding on the floor of a cabin. Rohn’s anomalies closing in. Her body growing heavy, her strength and coordination growing nonexistent. She’d called her fail-safe…

  She closed her eyes, relief pouring over her. Rykus was alive. She’d talked to him and…

  God, what the hell had she done? He’d been worried about losing her for months, and she called him when she thought she was dying?

  She’d been certain she was dying.

  “Ready?” Tahn asked from the doorway.

  “I need to make a call,” she said.

  “That can be discussed. Please.” He motioned her from the room.

  She exited the med-bay and walked by his side, Cas trailing behind them. She tried to remember other details of the past month. She’d spent it tracking Rohn and Valt and killing his anomalies. She shouldn’t have done the latter. They had been loyalty trained and were telepathically manipulated. They had no choice except to follow Rohn’s orders.

  “You’re more comfortable around us,” Tahn said.

  “How long have I been here?”

  “A week. You look surprised.”

  She rubbed at the chill bumps on her arms. “I was dying. Even anomalies don’t recover this quickly from injuries like I had.”

  “They do when they have access to the best medical equipment in the KU. Yes, more advanced than what the Coalition has. I like to collect technologies.” He looked at her as they walked. “There are benefits to knowing me.”

  “Benefits like having your thoughts ransacked?”

  “There are costs to knowing me as well.” He turned down the corridor that led toward the ship’s docking bay. “Speaking of privacy violations, I’ve intercepted a number of messages on your behalf.”

  “I’m sure I’m grateful,” she said, interjecting extra sarcasm to cover the way her heart gave a little jump. Did Rykus know she was alive?

  “Most were well encrypted. Several we identified as being from Chace. One was from a Devout Seeker named Bian, which seemed rather unusual. I don’t suppose you know why he might have tried contacting you?”

  Ash held back a smile. Bian wouldn’t be happy with the attention he was receiving from the bosses. Probably from the oligarchs too.

  He’d see it as a blessing eventually.

  Probably.

  “I have no idea,” Ash said.

  Tahn hmmed as they entered the docking bay. More telepaths filled the space than when she and Rykus had departed before. They were armed and seemed to be gathered around the transport Tahn was leading her toward.

  “You’re letting me leave?”

  “Perhaps,” Tahn said.

  The transport hissed, equalizing its internal pressure with that of the ship. It wasn’t preparing for departure. It had just arrived.

  Instinctively, she let her mind sweep through the small craft, something she had done over and over during the days she searched for Rohn and Valt. It hit on a familiar shadow.

  The door slowly lowered, revealing Rohn first and then, standing behind him, Rykus.

  It took everything in her to keep her feet planted, especially when her fail-safe’s eyes met hers. Especially when she saw her relief reflected in his gaze.

  He was okay.

  Her call from the cabin had confirmed he was alive, but her memories of it were filled with pain, not comfort. Seeing him there, knowing he was almost within reach… She’d never needed anything so much in her life.

  He guided Rohn down the ramp.

  “Commander,” Tahn said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. Lieutenant Ashdyn, alive and well as promised.”

  Rykus pushed Rohn forward.

  The bastard stumbled, fell to a knee, then stood again and pinned her with a furious glare.

  Letting him live had been difficult. She remembered that. She remembered her arm around his throat, cutting off his carotid artery until he lost consciousness. When he’d jerked back awake, she’d asked for Valt’s location, then cut off the blood flow again when he didn’t answer.

  He’d given her what she wanted after his third blackout.

  His gaze shifted to Tahn. “They’re dangerous. You should be hunting them down, not helping one of them. Not helping her.”

  Ash took a step toward him, which also took her a step closer to Rykus.

  “Valt was more afraid of Tahn than he was of me,” she said. “Don’t make the same mistake.”

  A vein on his forehead stuck out. “That’s not the mistake he made.”

  Ash was unarmed, but she could snap his neck in seconds.

  “He never should have touched you,” Rohn said. “He should have sensed your strength and moved along.”

  She could have avoided the pain of losing her teammates. She could have continued on, oblivious to the telepaths.

  And oblivious to the life she could have had with Rip.

  She focused on her fail-safe again and felt a visceral pull in his direction. She needed to get off this ship. She needed to be in his arms.

  “Yes,” she said to Rohn. “He should have.”

  His mouth tightened into a glower. Then he focused on Tahn and strode forward like a man meeting his fate.

  Ash watched him approach. Rohn had been an instructor of Caruth. He might have manipulated his
way into the position, but that didn’t make him unqualified or weak.

  He subtly veered toward her.

  She stepped back and pivoted, ready to face a physical and mental attack.

  Rykus acted first. He fired a pulse-pistol, and Rohn dropped at her feet, his head slamming into the deck with a loud thunk.

  “I appreciate the nonlethal weapon, Commander,” Tahn said, staring down at the unconscious telepath a moment before he looked up and met Ash’s gaze. “I am rather disappointed, however, that he wasn’t delivered directly to me to begin with.”

  “Interstellar shipping,” Ash said. “Items get misrouted.”

  He snorted.

  “We’re done here,” Rykus said, his voice loud in the quiet docking bay. Five, maybe six paces separated them now. So much could happen in that small space.

  “Yes.” Tahn made a dismissive gesture. “Go. Please. You’re both projecting enough emotion that my people will be quoting sonnets for months.”

  Ash made herself take her time, made sure she was collected, in control, and that she had just the right amount of provocative confidence in her step. She was almost to her fail-safe when something felt off.

  She froze.

  “Ash?” Rykus’s hand tightened around his pulse-pistol.

  “He…” Ash spun toward Tahn. Her heart kicked against her chest.

  “I was wondering when you would notice,” the crime lord said.

  “Notice what?” Rykus demanded.

  “Notice that she is free. Consider it a gift and a thank-you. You meant a lot to Trevast, and he meant a lot to us.” He nodded toward Cas. “If he hadn’t needed to hide his telepathy, I believe he would have undone the loyalty training himself.”

  “I told you no,” Ash said. “I told you to stay out of my head.”

  He held up a placating hand. “I promise I did nothing except undo the brainwashing. It was a completely virtuous endeavor. If, however, the Coalition continues to crumble and you decide to seek private employment.” He raised a shoulder. “I welcome your application.”

  Rykus touched her elbow. “Let’s go.”

  She felt all of them now, all those minds wandering throughout the ship. They had been there this entire time, but their faint glows took on a more malicious tint. She had no way of knowing if she could trust Tahn. No way of knowing what he might have done to her.

  “Ash,” Rykus said softly.

  Her equilibrium was off. It was the unsteadiness she felt after loyalty training, not quite knowing how to interact with the universe or how the universe would interact with her.

  Rykus touched her arm. She looked at him again…

  And she could breathe. He still centered her. He still made her want to break his composure, erase that too-serious expression on his face. She wanted to get under his skin and snap his self-control, to see the man he was when he took off the uniform.

  She really wanted to see the man out of the uniform.

  She focused on the transport and strode toward it. Rykus followed behind her. A few more minutes, and they would be away from there.

  They ascended the ramp. Rykus tapped the button to close the door.

  “Are you okay?” he asked when it clicked shut.

  “I need to get out of here.”

  He nodded. She thought he was going to say something else, but his mouth flattened instead. He turned away and headed to the cockpit.

  It seemed to take hours to exit the docking bay and escape the reach of the telepaths. She closed her eyes and searched her mind, trying to find a trigger, a trap door, a hidden code of some sort, but she felt nothing. It seemed like her mind was her own.

  More her own than it had been in a long time. It was weird, like a hum she hadn’t realized was there until it went silent.

  The air shifted. She felt Rykus approach.

  “How much trouble are you going to get into for this?” she asked, opening her eyes.

  “It was approved.” His tone was neutral. His expression carefully blank.

  “Approved by Tersa?”

  He nodded.

  “How did you convince her to make the trade?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re more valuable than Rohn.”

  “I doubt that,” she said, rising from the bench seat.

  “We can trust you.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. We can trust you, and we never would have been able to trust Rohn. Plus Tersa saw the benefit of your ability to detect telepaths. She’s hoping you can teach other anomalies to do the same.”

  She stepped toward him. “That’s an interesting idea for her to come up with all on her own.”

  “It is.” He kept his hands clasped behind his back. “She also saw the benefit of avoiding another very public inquiry into the anomaly program.”

  Ash tilted her head to the side. “Blackmail, Rip? That’s not like you.”

  “I wouldn’t have been the only instructor testifying, and I had to get you back.” His voice deepened into a rumble she felt on her skin. She understood it now. She understood how much she hurt him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He stiffened, then visibly swallowed. “For what?”

  “For every time I scared you. When I thought I’d lost you…” Her throat tightened. He’d thought about leaving her on Glory. He’d said he couldn’t be around to watch her die. She shouldn’t have called him from that cabin. What if he’d accepted her death? What if he’d decided to live his life without her?

  “Did you snap?” he asked.

  She focused on keeping her voice steady. “It felt like I did. It felt like the atmosphere collapsed around me. It was suffocating, and the only way I could catch a breath was to eradicate everyone who hurt the people I care about.” She stared out the transport’s window. Caruth filled the black of space. “I think the loyalty training held me together.”

  “And now it’s gone.”

  She didn’t understand that tone, not until she noticed that his hands were still behind his back, like he was afraid to reach for her. He was tense. Barely breathing. And, finally, she realized why he was keeping a carefully measured distance between them.

  “Rip,” she said, her voice gently scolding. “I fell in love with you before the loyalty training. We established that months ago.”

  “I know. I…” He let out the breath he’d been holding, then pulled her into his arms. “Thank God, because I don’t know if I could have let you go.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder and let the heat of his body melt away her fears. He smoothed his hand over her back, and it felt right. Uncomplicated. They could do this. They could be together.

  “Are we out of their range?” he asked.

  “We’re out of my range.” She pulled back so she could look into his eyes. She liked what she saw there.

  “We have two hours before we reach Caruth. Probably half that before Tersa tries to contact us. And you—”

  She kissed him. It wasn’t elegant or gentle. It was demanding and rough, the way she needed him.

  And the way he needed her.

  They fought to undress each other, hands tangling, reaching, touching. Ash pulled his shirt off first. Dragged her nails over the muscles of his chest.

  He nipped her bottom lip and initiated the next kiss, deeper than the last. More erotic. More distracting. Her pants disappeared. Underwear too. Then he used the shirt she still wore to maneuver her toward the back of the transport. That’s where medical supplies were stored. That’s where a cot would fold down from the back wall.

  That’s not where she wanted him.

  She hooked a foot around the leg he wasn’t favoring and spun him toward the bench seat. It was closer. It didn’t take time to put in place.

  He growled something unintelligible and countered her move. She tried to resist, but he was bigger and stronger. He took her down to the floor, softening her fall with his hand beneath her head, another on
her hip. Before she could flip their positions, he lifted her shirt over her head and twisted it, capturing her wrists.

  He stared down at her, the heat in his eyes increasing the heat between her legs.

  “I told you,” he said, rocking his hips against her. “You’ll never best me in hand-to-hand combat.”

  “No,” she agreed, her voice coming out raspy. She closed her eyes and arched her back. She sensed his gaze drop to her breasts. “But I’ll make you want me to.”

  Acknowledgments

  A big, huge thank you goes out to Nevada Martinez and Yvanca Wensing, who read the ugly, messy chapters of Shades of Allegiance as I wrote them. They pushed me to finish the book and helped me make it a better story.

  To Renee Sweet! You’ve been with me from the beginning, and I don’t know how I would ever have the confidence to publish a book without your input. You always make my characters stronger, and I think I’m finally learning how to tone down the assholery in my rougher drafts.

  To Helayna Trask, Jaime Rohrer, Esmeralda Sofokleous, Victoria Fanibi, and Alexis—thank you so much for reading! Your opinions helped shape the book and let me know that it was a story worth telling.

  * * *

  Brenda Chin, it was great working with you. Thank you for teaching me that there are times to be blunt!

  * * *

  Finally, I must take a moment to thank you, dear readers, for your patience while I wrote this book. Life has thrown a few too many curveballs recently, from my health, to my kid’s health, to COVID-19. It has been a difficult time! But I am optimistic that I’ve learned how to push aside real-life crap for a few minutes each day so that I can continue to get lost in my characters’ stories. I hope this book is one you have been able to get lost in too.

  Also by Sandy Williams

  The Anomaly Novels

  Shades of Treason

  Shades of Honor

  Shades of Allegiance

  * * *

  The Shadow Reader Novels