Born of Fire

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  As a young woman, she must have been stunning. As an older woman, she was dignified. "Everyone who walks through those doors has that claim." She sighed wearily. "And I haven't the time to listen to your story today. Make an appointment with my secretary and come back when it's more convenient."

  More convenient? Shahara was aghast at her words. She couldn't believe they came out of the mouth of the very person all the worlds depended on for fairness. "No time for justice?"

  The woman laughed as she leaned forward on her elbows, folded her hands together, and rested her chin on top of them. "To be so shocked by my words, you must be one of my seaxes."

  "Yes. I'm Seax Shahara Dagan."

  Her smile was patronizing, but contrite. "Well, seax, justice takes time, and time is one luxury I don't own."

  Those familiar words haunted her, tugging at her memory. As the overseer turned away with a mannerism she was all too familiar with, a strange sense of deja vu prickled the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.

  Now that she thought about it, she knew the exact curve of the overseer's jaw--a jaw she'd kissed numerous times. She knew the little dimple in the left cheek that had tormented her with devilish taunts and quips.

  Drawing closer, Shahara noted that the overseer's eyes were as dark as space. If she'd had any doubt before that, that threw it out.

  "Oh my God," she breathed.

  The overseer looked up, her face impatient. "You're still here?"

  Too stunned to think better of it, she blurted out, "You're his mother . . ."

  The overseer lifted her brows and stared at her as if she were crazy. "I have no children."

  Shahara shook her head, knowing better. "Yes, you do. You have a son named Sheridan Digger Wade and you had a daughter named Talia. And if you don't hear me out, I swear I'll let everyone know exactly who you are and what you did to them."

  Panic sparked in the obsidian depths a moment before the overseer could mask it. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  More knocks pounded on the door. It sounded like they were using a battering ram. "Mistress?"

  Shahara gave her no reprieve. "Are you sure you want them in here for this?"

  The overseer hesitated a moment longer before she pressed her intercom button. "I'm all right, Briun," she told her secretary. "Just keep the guards outside until you hear from me."

  "Yes, Mistress of Justice."

  She looked back at Shahara, and this time Shahara noted she finally had the overseer's full attention. "Now what can I do for you, Seax . . . ?" She paused and closed her eyes. "Forgive me, I forgot your name.

  "Dagan. Seax Shahara Dagan. I'm here to get a fair trial for your son."

  Disgust and hatred flashed deep in the woman's gaze. She curled her lip. "Like father, like son. I'm sure whatever he's accused of, he's more than guilty of it."

  "No," Shahara corrected. "Sheridan is a good, fair man. Nothing at all like his father."

  "I don't believe you. Evilness like Indy possessed runs through the genes."

  "And half of his genes come from you, Mistress. Believe me. Sheridan has saved my life more than once when other people would have left me to die. He's not his father's son." She hesitated before she added, "But he is yours."

  There was something in her gaze . . . like those words had chipped away some of her ice. "What is it you ask for him?"

  "I was approached by Seax Traysen on your behalf. He asked me to escort Sheridan"--it was so odd to keep using that name, but she wanted to ram home his identity to the overseer--"in order to gain proof of assassination and corruption on Ritadaria."

  "The Merjack case?"

  "Yes, Mistress."

  She glanced down at the miniature flags on her desk. "Did you find it?"

  "Yes . . . with Sheridan's help."

  She nodded. "Very good, seax. Now how does this relate to a new trial for a convicted felon? A felon I'm sure more than earned his sentence for treason and theft."

  Shahara wanted to choke the woman for the obstinacy she had--for the same obstinacy she'd given her only son. What would it take to make her see she was wrong?

  What would it take to make Syn's own mother at least hear his case?

  Thinking, she scanned the certificates and honors lining the walls behind the overseer. And as the dates of the overseer's commissions registered in her mind, she had an epiphany. "How long have you been the overseer, Mistress of Justice? Twenty years?"

  "Twenty-three to be precise. Why?"

  Her stomach turned to stone with those words. It was just as she suspected. No wonder Syn had never come forward to clear his name.

  It would have meant facing the woman who'd told him that if she ever laid eyes on him again, she'd have him imprisoned. It would have meant facing the woman who'd tried to kill him when he was an infant, and who had twice abandoned him to a world that hated him.

  The harsh reality of that made her wince, but at least she finally understood why Syn had preferred to remain a criminal rather than clear his name.

  Honestly, she couldn't blame him for the decision.

  "Do you realize, Mistress of Justice, that your son has been running from tracers and assassins for twenty-three years because he'd rather be killed by them than ask anything from you? Even a fair trial, which is the very least of what he deserves?"

  Shahara boldly looked the overseer up and down, noting that she took her words in stride. "From the outer looks of him, he has far more of your genes in him than his father's. But then, I guess maybe I'm wrong. Unlike you, Sheridan would never allow an innocent man to die without a hearing. He'd at least take the time to listen to the case before he condemned the person to a death he didn't deserve. And he sure wouldn't condemn someone for his own actions that they didn't have any part in. He's remarkably decent that way."

  She felt her eyes water as she thought about Syn and the son he continued to claim in spite of everything Mara and Paden had done to him. "You should also know that unlike you, he still provides for his son even though he's not the biological father . . . and his ex-wife, like you, has tried repeatedly to kill him and arrest him, not for his crimes, but for those of his father."

  Poor Syn, to have been relegated to such cold-blooded bitches in his life.

  "As a young man, he crawled out of the sewers you abandoned him in and went to med school on his own dime. He became a surgeon until a reporter exposed his past. Even then, he didn't become his father. He built a shipping company and was leading a respectable life until I screwed him over."

  "What of Kiara Zamir? Did he not rape and murder her?"

  "She's alive and well, if you'll bother to check. Sheridan was protecting her when her father threw a fit and, rather than give him the benefit of the doubt, he called out an execution. Syn's only crime was not handing his best friend--the man who is in love with Kiara and who still protects her--over to President Zamir. He would rather die than betray his friend. Again, not the actions of his father--but those of a decent man. And at this point, I have no idea where he learned his decency."

  She turned to leave.

  "Wait," the overseer said, stopping her.

  Shahara turned to face her.

  "You have proof of his innocence?"

  Crossing the floor to stand before the desk, she reached inside her pocket and pulled out the chip. "This proves his innocence conclusively, as well as the guilt of the Merjacks."

  "You have reviewed the chip?"

  "Yes, Mistress of Justice."

  The overseer took it from her hand and placed it in an airtight container. Positioning it carefully before her, the overseer studied the tiny chip that held Syn's entire future.

  Shahara held her breath, praying for a miracle.

  Finally the overseer looked up at her. "I can get him a fair trial, but that's all. If our court finds him guilty, then I'll do nothing to stay his execution."

  "That's all I ask."

  "Very well. Where is he being held?"

  "Ritada

ria."

  She tilted the container so that the chip fell into one corner. "I'll send an escort with you to have him transferred here for incarceration until his trial."

  "Thank you, Mistress."

  Silence fell between them. Shahara could tell the overseer wanted to say something more, but doubt hovered in her eyes while she continued to study the chip. "Tell me something, seax," she said at last.

  "Yes?"

  "Really, is he a decent man?"

  "Yes, Mistress. I've never known a more noble one. He does you proud every day he lives."

  She smiled.

  "And may I ask you a harsh question?"

  "Why did I leave them?"

  Shahara shook her head. "Why did you try to kill him when he was an infant?"

  The color faded from her face. "What?"

  "Digger told me that you tried to kill him when he was an infant."

  Her cheeks darkened with anger. "That's a lie. Talia had wanted to bathe him and I let her. She'd allowed him to fall beneath the water and drown. I was the one who revived him, but Indy wouldn't believe me. I never hurt my children."

  "But you left them."

  Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. "I had no choice. Indy would have killed me had I stayed. I kept hoping that I could convince my parents to take them in. After awhile, it just got easy to live without them."

  "And when he came to you when he was twelve?"

  "He caught me by surprise and I didn't know what to do. I would have lost everything I had if anyone ever learned that I had been married to Idirian Wade. I panicked when I saw Sheridan and overreacted. By the time I came to my senses, he was gone."

  Shahara shook her head. "You see how easy it is to be misjudged when you don't have all the facts?"

  "Don't lecture me, child. You have no idea what I've been through over these years."

  "And you have no idea what your son has had to face alone because of what you did."

  The overseer didn't speak as those words hung between them. After a few seconds, she glanced up. "Do you know whatever became of his sister, Talia? Is she all right?"

  Shahara swallowed at the desperate longing in the woman's voice. "No, Mistress. Talia killed herself a long time ago to escape her father."

  The overseer took a deep breath. "And what of you, seax? Why do you defend the son of Idirian Wade with such vigor?"

  She answered with the one single truth she couldn't deny. "I love him. Deeply."

  "Does he know this?"

  "I'm sure he doubts me." Especially given the way she'd been forced to act in the hotel, yet had she shown any weakness, Merjack would have killed them both. "But I intend to make sure he believes in me again."

  The overseer nodded. "We all make mistakes that torture us the whole of our lives. Unfortunately, fate doesn't always allow us a second chance. I hope you get yours, Shahara."

  "Thank you, Mistress."

  The overseer smiled sadly. "He must truly be a noble man to inspire the loyalty of a seax."

  "He walks with nobility and honor."

  She nodded. "Now go, seax. See to his safety."

  Numb to everything except the throbbing pain in his skull, Syn sat huddled in the corner of his icy cell. He swung his chains at one of the rodents that had strayed a little too close for his liking.

  At times like this, he really cursed his eyesight. He was able to see every tiny crawling, slithering creature that eyed him as either a meal or a host.

  But worse than the insects and rodents was the deadly chill that caused his broken jaw to ache unmercifully. He wasn't exactly sure when it'd been broken. There had been so many blows as he was interrogated by Merjack that he could barely recall which one had caused what injury.

  If he didn't hurt so much, he'd have laughed at Merjack's panic as the man had tried to find out what Shahara had done with the real chip.

  He really had to give her credit. She'd betrayed them all. First she'd turned him in, then she'd run off with Merjack's money and the chip.

  She was some piece of work.

  He closed his eyes and let the agony of betrayal ravage his soul.

  How could you have done this to me? He would have given her his life had she asked for it. But to have it taken like this . . .

  He wanted to kill her.

  The door to his cell opened, ushering in another stinging wind. Syn mentally prepared himself for the beating to come. Maybe this time they would finally succeed in killing him.

  He listened to the footsteps approach and, though his first instinct was to fight, he didn't move. He just didn't have it in him anymore. His fighting days were over. Now he just wished his life would end, too.

  Instead of rough hands seizing him, something incredibly soft and warm was draped over his shoulders. Stunned, he looked up into the golden eyes that had haunted him every moment since Merjack had taken him.

  "Hi," she said with a smile.

  Rage clouded his sight. He tried to speak, but his jaw and the cold made it impossible. Disregarding his pain, he reached for her, intending to tear her lying tongue out.

  Shahara noted the hatred in his eyes as he sprang at her. "Syn, please don't. You'll only hurt yourself."

  As he lunged toward her again, Nero appeared to pull him back. "Easy, buddy. You don't want to do any more damage to yourself."

  A man wearing the green and gold uniform of an overseer's guard stepped between them. "C.I. Syn, born Sheridan Digger Wade?"

  His breathing labored from his pain, Syn stopped moving and eyed all of them warily.

  When he didn't answer, the man looked to Shahara to confirm his identity before he continued. "C.I. Syn, you are being remanded into overseer custody pending a full investigation and trial of your case."

  Confused, he stared at the guard. How?

  "I went to her," Shahara explained as if she'd read his thoughts. "She's agreed to hear everything."

  Oh, that was fucking great. He'd be lucky if his mother didn't have him offed two seconds after his arrival.

  The guard who'd spoken knelt down to release his chains while Nero handed Shahara his clothes.

  "We'll wait outside while you get him dressed."

  Shahara looked at Syn, who still hadn't moved from his crouched position on the floor. "Thank you."

  He appeared so defeated and hurt that it choked her with remorse. His wounds were so much worse this time than they'd been before. It was obvious Merjack had been a little ticked off over her subterfuge with the chip.

  She couldn't imagine how Syn even managed to breathe, let alone move.

  "Here," she said, closing the space between them. "Let me get you dressed and--"

  "I don't need your help," he snapped between clenched teeth as he shoved her away with a strength she found shocking given his physical condition.

  She wanted to argue but was afraid to try. The last thing he needed was a struggle that would only injure him more. "Here's your clothes."

  Syn snatched them from her and tried to dress by himself, but with one broken arm and all the other brutal injuries, he could barely move.

  It was useless; he couldn't even raise his arms high enough to pull on his shirt.

  This time when she came near, he didn't push her away. Without a word, she dressed him with gentle hands that only seldom hurt his injuries. But that wasn't what really hurt, anyway.

  The external injuries he could take. It was the wound she'd given his heart that crippled him. That was the one he couldn't get over.

  How could you . . .

  When she finished, she took his good arm and placed it over her shoulders. "Just lean on me, Syn, and I'll walk you out of this hell."

  "You're the one who put me here. Twice," he snarled through his broken jaw.

  Shahara's conscience screamed its own condemnation over his condition. He'd been here less than a day and Merjack had done all but kill him. "I know, baby. I know."

  Nero took over once they were outside the cell and helped Syn the rest of the way to the bay.

  As soon as they boarded the overseer's shuttle and launched, one of the escorts brought her a first aid kit while Nero moved up front for the launch. "I don't know how much help this will be. But I think there's some stuff in it to help dull the pain."

  "Thank you." Shahara took it from his hands. She dug around until she found the pills. "Do you need water?" she asked Syn.

  He shook his head before he roughly ground out, "They . . . broke . . . my . . . jaw."

  "Oh," she whispered, knowing he'd never be able to open his mouth wide enough take the pills.

  No wonder he'd been so silent.

  Shahara looked down in shame and replaced the bottle in the kit. Once more she searched the contents for something that might ease his pain.

  There was nothing.

  "Sorry. There's no injector in here, or anything else to give you."

  Syn said nothing. He just laid his head back against the wall of the craft and closed his eyes.

  Wanting desperately to help him, Shahara got up, moved around the steel partition that separated her from the pilots and asked the two escorts, "Is there someplace where he can lie down until we get there?"

  The man who'd brought her the first aid kit spoke up. "We could make a pallet on the floor with some of our emergency blankets."

  At the frown on her face, he turned contrite. "I'm sorry, seax. This is a prison shuttle, not a luxury class cruiser. It's the best we can offer."

  Well, at least the pallet would be better than his trying to sit up. "Where are the blankets?"

  He led her and Nero to the storage compartments and helped her pull them out. Together, she and Nero made a semi-soft bed and helped Syn lie down.

  Shahara sat beside him while the escort returned to his station. She watched Syn try to swallow and she hated herself for leaving him to Merjack. If only she could go back and change things.

  But she couldn't do that.

  The least she could do now was try to explain herself, especially given the fact that, for once, he'd no choice but to listen.

  "I know you don't believe me," she said, stroking his bruised cheek. "But I never meant to hurt you."

  His glare turned lethal and she could read his thoughts as easily as if they were her own.

  "You're right. I did turn you in, twice. But it's not what you think. The first time we met, I thought you were guilty of all those crimes. Then I was approached by another seax, Warden Traysen, from your prison. He'd been investigating Uriah Merjack for years and when he learned about the chip, he decided not to prosecute Merjack for the human rights violations in the prison, but wait until he could prosecute him for murder. The only way he could prove his case was to get your chip."

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