by JC Cassels
Moving silently, Blade eased out of the shadows, patiently waiting for the Sovran to turn and notice him.
With a sigh, Andre Marin hung his jacket on the stand near the window.
Either sensing he was no longer alone, or seeing Blade’s reflection in the ancient mullioned windows, Marin’s shoulders stiffened. He slowly turned. His gaze flicked over Blade, registering momentary alarm before his expression closed.
“Well, boy, what have you got yourself into this time?” He gestured lamely at the blood staining Blade’s clothes and skin.
“Varo is dead,” Blade said flatly.
Marin smiled tightly. “I take it you’re the one who killed her?”
Blade nodded.
“Lover’s spat?”
The corners of Blade’s lips twitched. “Nothing so easily dismissed, I’m afraid,” he said. “She assassinated The Barron and framed his brother.”
Blade reached out with his senses. There wasn’t even a glimmer of surprise from the Overlord. Folding his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowed as he studied his father.
Like a cat circling its prey, Marin moved to the antique cabinet that housed his personal liquor stash. His hands steady and his demeanor dismissive, if he hadn’t kept his body so carefully angled towards Blade, his air of nonchalance might have been more convincing.
“So you killed her, leaving Royce with no way to prove his innocence.” Marin poured a drink and lifted the glass, silently offering one to Blade, who refused with a small shake of his head.
“Royce and I agreed it was more important to send a message.”
“I see.” Andre sipped from his glass as he sauntered closer. “To whom are you sending a message?”
“There’s collusion in Barron Clan. Galen and maybe his son are making a bid for control.”
“You think Varo was freelancing for them?”
Blade shook his head and mouthed the word ‘no.’ “You have a traitor,” he said.
“I?” Marin stopped safely outside of striking distance from his son.
Blade held his ground. Shifting his weight, he braced his fists on his hips. He didn’t trust his father.
“Varo was taking orders from General Rameus,” he said. “Rameus and Galen were schoolmates.”
Marin’s lips tightened in another attempt at a smile. “You’ve done your homework.”
Blade acknowledged the compliment with a small nod.
“But you conveniently killed her, so we have no proof of your accusations.”
Blade shrugged. “I bring you the information. What you do with it is up to you. When the hell have you ever needed proof?”
Marin’s shoulders shook with a silent chuckle. He stared into the yellow liquid in his glass as he swirled it around. Smug self-assurance rolled off him. “I assume since you’re here that you’re ready to compromise and take that desk job.”
“You assume incorrectly,” Blade said.
The Overlord looked up in surprise. “Then why…?”
“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for my wife.”
“Your wife?”
Blade enjoyed watching his smugness turn to confusion. It was about time he had an advantage over the old man.
“Bodhile. Laidan. Caitre. Marissa. Barron. Devon.” He stressed the Devon.
Marin’s brow gathered, as Blade knew it would. Blade’s refusal to answer to the name his father had given him was a point of contention between them.
“The rightful Representative to the Second Sector Council,” Blade went on. “First Minister of Mondhuoun. Commanding General of the Black Wing. The Barron. Chief of Barron Clan.”
Marin’s jaw clenched, but he hid his anger quickly behind an insincere smile. “So you married her to spite me.”
Blade’s smile held no humor. “You think everything revolves around you…”
“I am the Overlord.”
“You’re not mine, not anymore. We’re through, Andre.”
Maker, that felt good to say, as though the invisible chains binding him to Trisdos loosened, even if only a little.
Marin set his glass on the table and took another step towards him. “It doesn’t work that way.”
Blade held his ground and refused to budge. “It does now.”
The two men stared at each other for a long moment in a silent battle of wills.
“I can order the marriage dissolved,” Marin said at last.
Blade shook his head. “No, you can’t. We were legally married under the sovereign laws of Kah Lahtrec. The Outland systems are independent and well outside your jurisdiction. There is no provision anywhere in their law for dissolution of marriage. You could petition the Tryrium, but he stood as witness to the union and it was registered by the Tahar. The marriage stands.”
Marin’s jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. He wasn’t often thwarted, and he didn’t take it well. Blade had no sympathy for him.
“You just came here to warn me about Rameus?”
Blade shook his head. “No. I came here to tell you I won’t be back.”
“You can’t cut ties with me, boy. You are my son and heir…”
“Don’t look for me to come back while you’re alive – not of my own free will,” Blade said, feeling the chains loosen and fall away. “I don’t want anything more to do with you, the Inner Circle, the First Sector, Cormoran, any of it. I’m done.”
“Don’t be foolish, boy…”
Blade smiled. “This is the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Good-bye, Andre.” He turned to leave.
“Just tell me why.”
“Why?” Blade slowly turned to face him. “You ask me why?” Shaking his head in disbelief, Blade reached into his pocket and pulled out the datacard. He looked at it for a moment before he threw it at Marin.
“That’s why.”
Marin made no attempt to catch the card. He let it fall onto the thick carpeting.
“Larianne gave that to Bo. Told her she wasn’t anything but an asset to me. Convinced her I’d been playing her. That’s another reason I killed her.”
“Barron wasn’t supposed to be anything but an asset. You brought it on yourself.”
Anger radiated off the old man in waves, roiling the energies around them…anger and something else…, something like…desperation…and fear.
“You’re not even going to pretend you don’t know what’s on there?”
Marin turned and picked up his glass. He took a few steps towards his bar, but hesitated. “That was my insurance,” he said over his shoulder. “I did what I felt I had to do. You were growing too attached to her. You weren’t going to end it, so I arranged for her to end it for you.”
The Overlord’s casual dismissal of Bo touched off Blade’s ragged emotions like a solid rocket booster.
“You son of a kretch! That wasn’t for you to decide!”
His face a twisted, furious mask, Marin turned. “It was exactly for me to decide! I am Lord Marin! You are my son! She is a Second Sector Noble, and not just any Second Sector Noble, but The Barron! Any formal alliance between the two of you will cause civil war! The Black Wing is Scull’s great equalizer! He won’t meekly allow The Barron to change allegiances. He’ll kill her before he lets her marry you!”
“We’re already married!”
“Dammit, boy, I’m trying to protect you!”
“I don’t need your protection!” Blade’s shout rattled the windows. He glared at his father as the echoes of their argument faded away. Swallowing hard, he forcibly brought his emotions under control. “I don’t, but she does,” he said in a calmer tone. “Since you’ve so generously removed me from her circle, I’m counting on you to do what you can to keep her alive.”
Marin flinched. “What can I do?”
“You’re so damn clever, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
Shaking his head, the Overlord set his empty glass back on the table. “Find a way to dissolve the marriage.”
“There is
no way…”
“Find one!” Marin glared at him. “If you want my protection for her, you’ll start looking.”
Blade sensed a subtle shift in the energies around them. Marin seemed somehow diminished while he felt…stronger. On a hunch, he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “If you ever hope to see me again,” he said softly, his voice thick with menace, “you won’t let anything happen to her.”
Marin stared at him, his expression unreadable, but the energies around him were frenetic as he struggled for control. After a long moment, his shoulders sagged and he nodded. “I suppose I can pressure Scull to call off the hunt for her.”
A smile teased Blade’s lips. The door to his future, once a prison, creaked open, granting a crack of light and hope through.
“There, you see? Now you’re thinking, Andre. This is good. I think we’re finally starting to communicate.”
Marin’s brow furrowed. “I can do more if you give up this nonsense and come back to Trisdos permanently.”
Just a season ago, the mention of returning to Trisdos would have sent Blade into a panic. For the first time in his life while facing his father, he felt perfectly calm and in control of his own destiny.
“You’ve already said you won’t pardon her. Anything less is not negotiable. Nice try, though.”
Blade started to turn, but his father called after him.
“You’re never satisfied, are you? I gave her to you as a Kiara mistress – no strings – but it just wasn’t good enough for you was it? The two of you could carry on your affair openly, here on Trisdos…”
Blade cut him off with a smile. “That’s just it, Andre. She’s not a Kiara. She’s The Barron. And she’s not a mistress, she’s my wife. There’s a difference.”
“Don’t you see she’s using you?” Desperation rolled off Marin. “She’s using your title to pressure me to pardon her. It’s a political maneuver…”
“She doesn’t know I’m your son.”
“What?”
“She doesn’t know.” Blade spread his hands and smiled at his father. “To her, I’m Dev Fossey. I’m a war orphan who made good. She loves me…not my title…not my influence with the Sovran…not even my damn holofeature career. She loves me.” He shrugged. “At least she did until you…decided to fix everything.”
“Are you insane? Have you learned nothing? You can’t afford to be ruled by your hormones or your emotions.”
Blade laughed and shook his head. “You know what I find ironic about this? I’m the one labeled a sociopath and you are the one completely incapable of relating to another living soul.” He took a deep breath and released it. “Look, I’ve done what I came here to do. Rameus ordered the hit on The Barron. He’s setting up for some kind of power play. You and I both know he hasn’t got the mind for political intrigue at this level. I’ll give you time to find out who’s pulling his strings before I go after him, because when I do, there won’t be anything left. Stay out of my way, Andre. I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want to have anything further to do with you. We’re through.”
“I can have you taken into custody.”
Blade arched an eyebrow at him. “You can try. Good-bye, Andre.”
“Don’t you turn your back on me, boy!” Marin snarled. “Come back here! Boy?”
Blade let himself out of the Overlord’s private chamber, ignoring his father’s increasingly louder commands. By his estimation, he had exactly one minute to slip outside the Sovran Palace before Andre ordered a lockdown. Blade broke into a run.
***
With one last look around the apartment, Bo heaved a sigh and slipped out the door. She wouldn’t be back. Technically, the apartment belonged to her as part of her severance as a Joy Babe. She didn’t want it. It could sit empty and unused for all she cared. Numb, trying not to think, she rode the lift to the ground level and left the building.
If she hadn’t been quite so consumed by her own misery, she might have noticed someone following her much sooner. By the time she registered the pursuit, a large hand clamped down on her mouth and an arm solid as molded fuseform closed around her. Bo struggled against him, but he easily lifted her off her feet and carried her deep into the shadows of an alley.
“It’s me, Princess,” Royce whispered harshly in her ear.
At the sound of her uncle’s voice, she stopped fighting. He set her on her feet in the darkness and quickly took several steps back away from her until he was out of reach. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Bo wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and sob out her misery against his chest like she used to do when she was a child. Slowly, she turned to face him.
“Why?” was all she could think to say.
The dim glow from a street lamp gave just enough light for her to make out his features. His brow gathered. “I didn’t do it,” he said. “You know I’d never…”
“I want to believe you, Royce. I just don’t know what to believe any more.”
He waved her concern away. “Look, I know you’re hurting, Barron, but you need to step up and do the hard work right now. Listen to me. Don’t trust me. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t take any more care packages or diplomatic pouches from home. Don’t take any more meetings with Galen or Jaden or anyone else. You’ve got to drop out of sight.”
“What are you talking about? If you’re worried about a face-to-face, then we can route packages through Edge…”
“No. You can’t trust Edge either.”
“Not trust Edge? Have you lost your wits?”
Royce closed the space between them and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Princess, Edge will betray you to save your life if he has to. Trust no one.” He stared at her as if silently willing her to understand. Seeing her lack of comprehension, he released her and stepped back, rubbing his face with one hand. He shook his head. “Look, it’s about power. It’s not personal. Do you remember what I’ve taught you about power?”
She nodded. “Where there is power, there are those who want to seize it for themselves.”
“Your father is dead. I’m wanted for his murder. You’re in exile. Who’s got the power?”
“Galen…and Jaden? But Jaden…he…he…”
“He was trained for the job right along with you. Ask yourself, Princess, what did I have to gain by killing my brother? If I wanted to be Chief, I’d have to kill you, too.”
Bo stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” she said. “I don’t know what to believe.” She sighed. “I’m tired, Royce. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of running…tired of being lied to. If this is what it is to be The Barron, I don’t want it. I don’t want to be a commodity. I don’t want to be an asset. I just want to go home.” Her voice broke as sorrow overtook her. She took a deep shuddering breath. “I never got to tell him good-bye.” A tear broke free and rolled down her cheek. She wiped angrily at it. “I feel so useless.”
“His last words were about you,” Royce said. “He gave his blessing, you know. He approved of Blade.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “Yes, well, Blade had us all fooled, didn’t he?” Sniffing loudly, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “He’s a better actor than anyone realized.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about that bastard.”
“You’re going to have to talk about him eventually. Like it or not, Princess, you’re married to him.” Royce glanced towards the entrance to the alley. “I’ve stayed too long,” he said. “You’re not going to see me again — not until this mess is straightened out. Promise me that you won’t take any meetings with anyone, Galen, Jaden, the chamberlain, nobody. They’ll use any weakness against you. Galen knows you too well. He raised you. He knows how you think. He can anticipate your every move. That’s why I say you can’t trust anyone, not me, not your brother, not Misou, not anyone. Even the most innocent thing can betray you.” He searched her face. “I’ve lost my brother. I don’t want to lose you, too.”
She sighed again. “I don’t see how I’m going to do this.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Royce said sharply. “They’ll kill you the first chance they get.”
Before she could react, he hugged her to his chest so tightly she was afraid he’d crush her. “I am so very sorry, Princess. I wish everything could be different. I wish it could be the way it’s supposed to be.” He kissed the top of her head and released her. “Remember what I’ve said. Do what you have to do. Just…stay alive.”
With one last smile, he melted into the shadows and was gone.
Drawing a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin a notch. She was The Barron. She would deal with it. She stepped back onto the main street and caught a passing robohack to the port.
***
Bo stared at the colorful curtain of hyperspace, not really registering much of anything. The medical scanner flashing in her hand confirmed her pregnancy yet again. Vibrations from the hyperdrive engines rumbled through the deck plates. The hiss of the ventilation system cycling air through the ship took the high notes in the symphony of white noise that marked deep space travel. Lingering cold seeped through the lightweight fabric of her clothing, chilling her. Absently she hugged herself for warmth, rubbing her hands along her arms.
With a sigh, she popped the buckle on her g-locks and shrugged out of the straps.
So this was what her life was going to be like – solitude and silence…, at least, until the baby came.
Bo glanced over the con one last time before she pushed herself out of her seat. The heavier-than-standard gee she favored aboard ship mirrored her mood. With plodding footsteps, she slowly made her way aft to her quarters and sanctuary. Every footfall echoed hollowly through the empty ship. Her ears strained to catch some sound of life; something…anything to assure her that she wasn’t alone.
Holy Maker, she’d never minded being alone before.
At her touch, the door to her quarters shushed open. Her gaze roved over the slightly rumpled tidiness of her hastily made bunk. It felt like years since she’d slept. Not bothering to remove her boots or gunbelt, Bo ducked into her bunk and flopped down on top of the covers. She lay still on her back, staring up at the storage panels above her as she absently stroked her flat, firm belly. Little more than a narrow shelf, her bunk had never seemed so large, nor so cold.
