Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3
Page 11
“We’re in a maintenance tunnel,” the Emperor replied. “No one comes in here other than the workers charged with keeping all the systems of Xuanyuan functioning seamlessly. The original Emperors didn’t like to see the technology everywhere. They thought it made them look less magical. So the tunnels hide the cables and computers used to keep the Forbidden City in the air. No one would ever expect the Emperor to tour these tunnels, so we’re perfectly safe.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes, while Gil tried to keep a mental tally of the lefts and rights. Luckily they didn’t make many turns before they exited at the docks where their party had arrived hours ago. The guards snapped to attention but didn’t say a word to stop them. They must be familiar with his disguise and this routine. “How often do you do this?”
“More and more lately,” the Emperor admitted. “Mother thought I was spending too much time with my Empress and so had us separated.”
“You’re married?” Gil couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice. “But you’re so young! Why didn’t we meet her this evening?”
“Mother hates her because she’s taking me away from her. Therefore Lady Alute has been banned to her palace on the fourth level and not even I am allowed access.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m the Son of Heaven but I’m not allowed to see my own wife whenever I wish. I have to follow a schedule. Now Mother has decreed that she doesn’t even exist and so when I ask to see her, the eunuchs stare at me blankly and offer to bring me one of my other consorts. They take her orders instead of mine.”
He slammed his fist against the wall with a ringing thud. “I don’t want the other consorts. I want the wife Ci’an helped me pick. I knew it was a mistake to show favor to her choice instead of Mother’s, but I tried to keep both happy. Instead, everyone’s unhappy, most of all me. The throne may be mine, but only because Mother put me there, and no one, least of all her, will ever let me forget it. I have no real power of my own. If I were older, or if I’d not been so sick as a child, and allowed to make a name for myself, then they might believe I could become a competent ruler. Instead, all they see is a weak, childish man ruled by his mother. Worse, they’re right.”
Unsure what to say to assuage the young man’s anger, Gil remained silent as they arrived at a small barge. It looked the same as the one in which they’d arrived. For all he knew, it was, or merely one of a countless fleet of Imperial boats. A man waited for them, bowing low and gesturing to the open door. They talked in their language briefly and the man bowed low again. Then they were seated and the man flew them out of the dock.
“I’m sick, you know.”
Gil jerked his attention back to the Emperor. This time, he made sure to belt himself in firmly so he wouldn’t end up on the floor again. “I’m terribly sorry, Your Majesty.”
“That’s why Mother wanted Lady Wyre to come to Xuanyuan. She hopes she may be able to help me since my own physicians have proven to be incompetent fools. It’s a tricky situation for her. She daren’t admit that I’m not well, yet she must if she’s to see me healed. Sometimes I think she honestly believes she can order me to be well and I will obey.”
“If anyone can help you it’s my lady.”
“You’ll speak to her for me? I can’t ask for her help directly or Mother will ban me to the fourth level and I won’t be able to escape like this, even for a little while. She can’t allow us to show any weakness.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. What are you symptoms, and I’ll pass them along to my lady discreetly.”
He dropped his head back against the paneled wall of the elegant ship. “Weariness. No energy. Weight loss, no matter how much I eat. I can eat so much my belly aches, but it doesn’t matter. I just keep losing weight and I’m weaker every day. My skin feels as thin as paper, light and unsubstantial. Some days I think I’ll just close my eyes and float away into the gray. It takes all my effort to hide how weak I truly am.”
Indeed, he seemed very different now from the laughing young man who’d plied him with wine and begged for another story. “I’m sure my lady can help.”
Straightening, the Emperor smiled slightly. “Half of me hopes she fails.”
Gil’s heart sank though he said nothing. It pained him to see such a young man so hopeless and unhappy, yet it seemed ridiculous at the same time for him to be so miserable when he had so much. He didn’t go hungry, he didn’t shiver in the cold with no clothing or home, he didn’t live in constant fear of being thrown in a dungeon. He didn’t slave for a meager wage, destroying his health for a few pennies to support his family. He could be so much worse off, yet anyone so deeply unhappy was poor, even if they were wealthy.
“Here we are,” the Emperor’s voice brightened, pulling Gil’s attention back to their little escapade outside the Forbidden City’s protective walls. At least listening to the Emperor’s symptoms made passage through the wormhole quicker. He only felt as though his head would explode, but at least he hadn’t thrown up the elaborate dinner. “I hope you enjoy my favorite pastime.”
They disembarked in what looked to be a warehouse district of Bei-Jing. The streets were littered with filth and crowded, even though it was night. The buildings stretched up story after story, stacked upon one another like a child’s building blocks, and often just as tilted, as though a stiff wind would send them all crashing down to crush the commoners below. “Well that depends, Your Majesty. Where are we?”
The Emperor grinned. “A brothel.”
Shaking his head, Gil followed him into the building. This will be fun to explain to Charlotte. She might make me wear that cock ring nonstop.
Chapter Eleven
Sig had never had such difficulty finding his mark before. He still didn’t know whom he was to kill, let alone who’d hired him to do it.
After lurking in corners and wandering through the shadows of the various halls on this level, he finally gave up hope of running into a mysterious masked person with a note telling him the target. When he did encounter someone, they refused to speak to him. Some of the servants had actually run from him, like he was a Great White Terror come to destroy everything and everyone. He’d expected suspicious looks or even the threat of guards, not blank stares or simply flight.
It wasn’t like he could just come out and ask everyone he saw, Are you the one who wants me to assassinate someone inside Xuanyuan? If that didn’t cost him his head, it’d at least get him thrown out of the Forbidden City and barred for life. Even the idea of a threat to the Emperor could be a death sentence.
He found their rooms by listening to the constant tug of his heart. Held together by Lady Wyre’s dangerous technology, his heart always knew where she was. Galaxies could separate them and he was sure he could find her again. This close, he could practically feel her breathing inside his own body. He slipped into the chamber silently, not to hide from her, because that was impossible.
She felt him just as keenly.
However, her dark head was bent over her datapad, her fingers flying over commands, and though she lifted her head a moment in acknowledgment, he didn’t want to break her concentration. This was Charlie at her best and worst, wholly engrossed in deciphering some great mystery.
God help me when she finally decides to turn that full curiosity on to figuring out who I am.
He sat beside her, content to soak in her scent and presence until she leaned back in her chair. She hummed beneath her breath, no tune or melody, just a low sound as though her mind were purring with pleasure. “How interesting.”
He couldn’t resist chuckling. “Watch out, Xuanyuan. You’ve piqued the legendary Lady Doctor Wyre’s interest.”
She sniffed with distaste, but her lips twitched at the same time. “Why does everyone keep calling me that? You’re the legendary one.”
“I’m infamous. Not legendary.”
“There’s a difference?”
“But of course. I’m the man with more than a thousand marks to bloody my hands. If I were to show my f
ace in Londonium, I’d be shot on sight.”
“So would I,” she said softly, her voice filled with an aching yearning for home.
He’d never felt homesick for the life he’d left behind. Not once. He’d rather kill everyone he’d ever known or met than face that nightmare again.
Even her? A tiny voice whispered in his head.
Of course not, he told himself firmly. I’d never hurt Charlie. I love her.
But would she still love me if she knew the truth of who and what I am?
“The Dowager Empress showed me the great secret of Xuanyuan this evening. I don’t believe even she suspects the truth of what she showed me.”
Unease shot through him at her choice of words. He felt her so keenly he had to wonder how much of him she felt too. Could she read his thoughts? Maybe she’d already looked into the blackness of his soul and his worst fears had already been realized. But if she knew…
She wouldn’t sit here so calmly, her charming face open and warm. She even reached across the lacquered table to take his hand in hers. Her feminine hand in his felt like a small bird, helpless and trapped, while stalked by a dangerous beast.
“They have a hibernating dragon hidden away on a secret level of Xuanyuan. Supposedly only she knows of its existence, yet she claims that according to legend, Zijin will fall out of power entirely if the dragon dies.”
“Let me guess—she wants you to heal it because it’s dying and she fears her son will lose the Dragon Throne as a result.”
“Exactly. Preferably in time for a formal procession the Emperor must make in Bei-Jing to confirm his right to the throne. In only two days.”
“Talk about a deadline. Why doesn’t she simply go out and find another dragon to put in its place?”
“She claims they’re extinct.”
“Claims…?” He arched a brow, waiting, because he knew that tone of Charlie’s voice. That tone of amusement said she knew something that proved that Cixi was a liar. Or at least wrong.
“I took a sample of the beast’s DNA.” She lifted her gaze from their entwined fingers to his face. It was all he could do not to wince at the piercing stab of her gaze that struck straight to his heart. “It was once human.”
Still fighting to suppress his own fight-or-flight tendencies, it took him a moment to register her words. “Human? So some kind of shapeshifter?”
“Not exactly. It’s more like a human took in dragon DNA at some point and they…merged. Or vice versa. I’m honestly not sure which came first or how the injection of a different species’s genetic code happened.” She took a deep breath, her breasts moving with the intensity, as though a massive weight pressed on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. “It reminds me of what happened to the Razari. Some kind of mutation and merging of DNA.”
“They don’t have your technology.”
It wasn’t a question but she shook her head anyway. “No, there’s no foreign tech causing the mutation, as far as I can tell, and the dragon’s age has been well documented as over a thousand years old, long before we had the capabilities to develop such small microchips. It’s very strange, actually, that they’ve been able to accomplish so much, like harnessing a wormhole, yet there’s very little networking or communication that I’ve been able to tap into.
“None of the bugs I planted throughout Xuanyuan are reporting data. Only the one I left in the ship. Isn’t that odd? I wish I’d been able to plant something in the elevators between levels, but by then I was out of readily available nanobots. I didn’t want to play with my locket and make them suspicious. Somewhere in this massive floating station there are incredibly powerful mainframes, and I intend to find them. Only then will I know if Majel has already begun her attack.”
“Maybe Masters will learn something from the Emperor,” Sig said, looking down at the table but keeping his voice light. “Is he back yet?”
“Not yet.” Her voice was as carefully light as his. “It’s just you and I, as it was in the beginning. Though I love Gil dearly, I sometimes miss those early days when you came to me on Americus.”
Did she miss him, or something else? Like the sometimes violent way they’d made love.
It’d been a very long time since she’d tied him up, made him helpless and then slowly taken his life away while she brought him to climax. They hadn’t indulged that dark side of their desires since Gil had joined them.
“Is that what’s bothering you lately?” She tightened her grip on Sig’s hand, as though she was afraid if she didn’t hold him, he’d jump up and run.
He couldn’t deny that his muscles were tense, his thighs quivering. Whether with excitement or the urge to flee her questions, he didn’t know.
“You’re more distant. I understand that you’re protecting yourself, but from what? What can I do to help you, dearest?”
He wished he could explain the darkness…without admitting how much deeper that darkness went. He wished he could go back to those days when the worst thing he wanted was a little bondage. A little pain—his own, thank you very much. Not hers.
I can control it. I can ignore it. I don’t have to let that darkness out.
I don’t need it.
His stomach clenched so hard he couldn’t breathe. Fear, desire, nausea combined to make a roiling riot of emotion deep in the pit of his stomach. He did need it. He needed pain and death—to push back the emptiness spreading through his soul.
Not her pain. Not her death.
“I have everything I could possibly want,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “I don’t need anything else.”
“Do you remember the first time I tied you up?”
He shuddered at the memory. He’d woken up in a strange place, so weak and helpless he hadn’t been able to lift his head. All he’d remembered was crushing pain, blood fountaining from his chest. He’d known he was dying, so to wake up again with her beautiful face etched with weary relief had been more than he could comprehend. Then to learn that she’d bound him to the bed to prevent him from hurting her or himself while he healed…
He’d been shocked when the realization had comforted and relaxed him instead of driving him into a killing rage.
“I keep wondering if I’d never tied you to the bed if we’d find ourselves here. That innocent attempt at safeguarding your health opened a door I didn’t even know was inside me. It must have always been there, but I had no idea, no desire to explore such things, until you.”
Her words destroyed him, even while his body thrilled to her admission. In many ways, this darkness was his alone to bear. “It’s my fault.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” She squeezed his hand harder, her eyes narrowing on his face. “The seed was there in me, Sig. It took you to make it grow. So that seed was inside you too. I made it grow in you, but the seed had already been planted and sprouted, hadn’t it?”
That poisonous fruit had been planted in him as a boy. The first time he’d been forced to watch his mother punish his father. At first, she’d just humiliated him, verbally beating him down with words about how useless he was. Useless dreamer, that’s what she’d called him.
Then one day her insults hadn’t been enough. She’d struck his father in the face, and he could still see the flash of supreme pleasure on her face. All too quickly, the slaps had become fists. A hairbrush. Her riding crop. Each time she’d indulged that twisted need, it’d grown bigger, darker and more violent.
“Sig,” Charlie’s low voice made him flinch. He didn’t dare look up at her face. He didn’t want to see pity or, worse, revulsion. “I need to know what happened to plant that first seed.”
“No,” he ground out. He pulled back, but her grip was surprisingly strong. She stood and moved around the table. Before he could stand, she was in his lap, and he didn’t want to hurt her by dumping her onto the floor. That’s what he told himself, at least. He could have set her aside and strode out of the room, but Charlie had always had him wrapped around her delicate pinky.
“You think you know me, but you don’t, Charlie.”
“Try me.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know you’re from a prominent Britannian House. Which one, I admit I don’t know, but I don’t care either. I know you’re the most infamous assassin in the galaxy. You like bondage and pain with edgy sex. I love you and you love me. What else matters?”
“I’m…damaged,” he finally forced out. “You have no idea.”
“I do. We’re all damaged by our pasts. Our love…”
“You don’t understand,” he broke in, finally opening his eyes to let her see the ragged darkness spreading in his gaze.
Her eyes flared and she drew in a sharp breath. Her fingers stilled on his cravat.
“You see?” he whispered, hating the look on her face, the way her bottom lip trembled. The legendary Lady Wyre was never shocked or scared. She certainly never cried. Yet her big eyes shimmered and her heart was beating so loud and fast that he could almost taste her pulse in his mouth. “I can usually kill to keep the darkness at bay, but it’s been too long since I’ve had a contract.”
Her fingers returned to loosening his cravat, opening up his shirt enough that she could slip her hand inside to stroke his chest. “How does killing a mark make you feel better?”
“It doesn’t make me feel better. I just…feel.”
She pressed her hand over his heart. In answer, a surge of power pulsed through that damaged organ, making it leap in his chest, as if every lady-created nanobot flooded toward her touch on his flesh. “You don’t feel this?”
“It’s not the same. It doesn’t sink into me. It’s like my skin is numb and cold and dead. It doesn’t touch my heart.”
She wasn’t offended by his words. In fact, a wicked smile curved her lips and she settled deeper into his lap with a wiggle of her hips that made his breath snag in his throat. “I see. Perhaps an experiment is in order. I must understand this anomaly. Shall I bind the subject for experimentation?”