Wulf, Tales of the Chosen

by Kayelle Allen

  Focus, Luc. Remember why you're in this nest of vipers.

  "My lord." Luc knelt.

  "Cyken Tomarus, my old friend." Pietas gestured to him to rise.

  The name he'd been given among the Sempervians sounded alien, though Luc used some part of it in almost every name he took.

  The technology the Sempervians used made that of the empire seem like toys. When Pietas offered to shake his hand, Luc felt the man's warmth and smooth skin as if he stood there in person instead of on a planet far outside Tarthian space.

  "Thank you for seeing me, my lord." Luc bowed.

  "I've been expecting your call." Pietas turned and walked away, hands behind him as he faced the windows. "This isn't nearly as lovely a view as your Tarthian office. Why didn't you call me from there?"

  Luc chewed over his words. "You expected my call? Why?"

  Pietas turned and stared, then came back toward him. "You've surely been aware another player has been moving your tokens."

  "Who is it? Did you know they blew up my house? I demand restoration and damages."

  Pietas chuckled. "I'd grant it if I hadn't told them to do it myself."

  "What!"

  "You're angry. How wonderful!" Pietas clapped his hands. "I love it. I knew you'd be upset. I so rarely get to see you--how do you say it-- 'lose your cool.' That's right, isn't it? Lose your cool?"

  "Yes, Pietas." Luc made himself stand still. Turning his back would irk Pietas, and a peeved Gamemaster was likely to set him up to lose. "Why? They killed people. Caused havoc in my life. Put my son in danger."

  "Son?" He tilted his head. "Oh, yes. The young thief. You know, I like Senthys. He's most interesting to watch. Have you decided to make him your Chosen?"

  "No. Not yet. He needs a few more years before he's mature enough to keep the secret. Senthys is off limits to everyone. You gave me your word, my lord, and whoever it was that attacked me put him in grave danger."

  He patted his mouth. "Senthys is talented, but he has a temper. Likes to have his way, doesn't he? I imagine he ... um..." He made a gesture, and Uurah, the massive android who served him, moved into sight. "What is that phrase about buttons?"

  Uurah inclined his head. "'Pushes his buttons,' my lord."

  "Ah, yes!" Pietas turned back to Luc, his beautiful face radiant. "I imagine Senthys pushes your buttons."

  Luc resisted the urge to demand Pietas keep his distance. That would put the Gamemaster fully onto Senthys' trail. "You don't know the half, my lord."

  "So you called me to complain?"

  "No, lord. I called for personal reasons."

  "Oh, good. I hope it's dramatic. I love drama." Pietas gestured to Uurah. He scooted a chair near him and Pietas seated himself. The android stayed behind him, watchful. Pietas waved a hand. "Go ahead, Cyken."

  "One of my Chosen has returned to me, my lord."

  "Ah..." Smiling, he motioned to Luc. "Pull up a chair, my friend."

  He rolled over one of the chairs in the office and sat down facing him.

  "Good." Pietas crossed one leg over the other, smoothing his black pants. "Now, tell me about Wulf."

  Luc held his breath. "You! You set all this up."

  The Gamemaster leaned back in the chair, one eyebrow quirking. "You didn't suspect?"

  "You put Stalkos up to harassing Wulf and had Stahlwell threaten him. You sicced them on me. Destroyed my home."

  Pietas smirked. "I did it for your own good."

  Luc set both elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. "My lord, if you weren't my sovereign in all things I would be furious with you."

  He glanced back at his android bodyguard. "In other words, Uurah, he is furious with me but he's too polite to say so." He leaned forward and patted Luc on the arm. "I love the way you put things. You're not as timid as the others, and yet you're still tactful."

  Clenching his jaw, Luc forced a smile. "You've always shown me grace, my lord."

  "Would you like to know the reasoning behind what I've done?"

  "Of course." He sat back.

  "When your last Chosen died and his son blamed you, you were so distraught several of the others begged me to intercede. Through their reports, I watched you struggle to continue. There are times, my friend, when inaction is what's needed most."

  Luc was sitting at Batchelors, telling Trink the exact same thing about Wulf. How much easier it was to say those words than to hear them.

  "Pietas, what could you have done? You didn't cause his death." He caught his breath. "Please--tell me you didn't."

  "The Chosen are sacrosanct. Inviolate. No one, not even I, may touch them. The Chosen must not fear any of us. You shouldn't have to ask, Cyken."

  "I'm sorry, my lord. Your words shocked me. But why did you wait so long?"

  Pietas quirked a smile. "How long was it?"

  "Twenty years."

  "And how many years have we been alive, my friend?"

  Luc turned his head.

  "You've begun thinking like a human. Next lifetime I think you need to spend some time with me. Get to see the universe as it should be seen."

  Luc swallowed. "My perspective was off."

  "You see?" Pietas stretched out a hand. "I couldn't have done anything. Not then. But now? You desired Wulf Gabriel. It was a simple matter of nudging him in the right direction. That's why I sent Erryq."

  No wonder he'd had erotic dreams.

  Each Sempervian had a unique ability or gift. Erryq's enabled her to finely tune the minds of those asleep. Dreams, daydreams, fantasies... She needed proximity. His was to heal other Sempervians, and he could tell immediately if a person--no matter how well disguised--was a Sempervian. Even the shapeshifters.

  "Don't you understand, Cyken? I sent her to make Wulf dream about you, and you to dream about Wulf. It was a matter of time before one thing or another nudged you two together."

  "So you want me to join with Wulf?"

  "I threw Erryq and the others into the mix because you seemed to think you couldn't have your Chosen as a lover. Where you got that idea I don't know. I've had plenty of mine."

  "Pietas, why didn't you just tell me?"

  "And ruin the fun of manipulating you into it? Come now."

  "Then I have your permission to join with Wulf."

  He flipped a hand. "Do whatever you like, my friend. He's your Chosen."

  Luc stood as Pietas did. "What about these hit men who tried to kill him? Kill me? And Stalkos? He's still out there."

  "Of course he is. Must I do everything for you? Go back and protect your lover. Kill the bad guys. If you want to win, take action to defend yourself. I may have set all this in motion, but it's part of the risk of playing the game." He laid a hand on Luc's shoulder, turquoise eyes staring deep. "After all, my friend, that's why we call it Peril."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kelthian orbit, C-1, Luc's private vessel

  Sumertsag 29

  When the holophone rang, the tradestandard clock beside the bed showed it wasn't quite midnight. Wulf hid the half-empty whiskey bottle and reached for the bright red answer button.

  Feeyona Joie popped into view. "Wulf! I'm glad you're all right! When your message said 'call me' I got worried. Were you hurt in the blast?"

  "No, I'm fine. We got out okay. I can't believe you heard about that."

  "It's all over Imperinet. There's no other story online. I'm relieved you're all right."

  "I'm fine. Honest. I can't believe there was publicity."

  "Are you kidding?" Fee arced a hand through the air. "'Harbinger Presumed Dead' came up on screens everywhere. People in the street went nuts. The stock market fell. The media kept reporting more businesses 'the Man' owned a piece of. Then you guys turned out to be safe and there were parties everywhere. The market went crazy with rebounds." She peered at him. "So why do you look like your best friend died?"

  Wulf sank to the floor beside the bed and leaned back against it. "Everything between Luc and me has fallen apart. Everythin
g!"

  She sat cross-legged across from him. "What happened?"

  He covered his eyes, pressing the heel of his hands against them to stop himself from crying. His eyes hurt. "I never want to cry over another man ever again, Fee. Never."

  "None of them are worth one single tear, Wulf. Talk to me. Where are you?"

  "I'm on Luc's ship." He lifted his head. "I wish you were here. I could use a hug right now."

  "Oh, babe, I'm so sorry. What did he do? Did he hurt you?"

  "Just my heart, Fee. It's broken right in two."

  "Aww, Wulf." She reached out.

  He reached back in response, but his fingers passed through hers as she were a ghost. "He promised he wouldn't leave me but now he's gone and I hate him! I want to go home."

  "What do you mean he left you? Where is he?" Feeyona shook her head. "You're not making sense. Have you been drinking?"

  He hiccupped. "'S'cuse me. This much." He measured with fingers and thumb.

  She set both hands on the floor and leaned toward him. "Wulf, you need to think clearly. You're making decisions that will affect you the rest of your life. I want you to promise me you won't drink any more of that stuff. Pour it down the drain."

  "I can't."

  "Why not?"

  "It's Kelthian. It's expensive. Luc would kill me."

  She sat up straight. "Did he threaten you?"

  "No. I meant"-- He hiccupped --"he would hate it if I did that."

  "Why do you care, Wulf? Besides, I'm sure the Harbinger can afford to throw out whole cases of whiskey." She wagged a finger at him. "Now I want you to go get that bottle and pour it down the drain right now."

  "I..." There was always the second bottle. He shrugged. Shifting his weight to the bed, he leveraged himself to his feet, picked up the bottle, and poured it into the toilet. He returned, plopped down onto the floor, and held up the empty. "Done. For you, Fee."

  "Thank you, Wulf." Feeyona's eyes glittered with unshed tears. "I worry about you. Promise me you won't drink any more tonight."

  He cast about in his mind how to get around that. It wasn't quite midnight. In a bit, it would be tomorrow. "I promise. No more today."

  "Now, let's hear the details." She leaned to one side, propped on her hand. "He left you? Do you have a way home? Do you need money?"

  "No. I'm good." He hiccupped and braced a hand against his stomach. "But I appreciate the offer."

  "Are you sure? Do you still have the tickets I bought you?"

  "Yeah." He picked at the royal blue carpet. "I packed them in my bagbot."

  "Wulf, are you sure you're not in physical danger? A man like Saint-Cyr... I don't know what to think about him. I want to be sure you're safe."

  "He wouldn't hurt me, Fee." Wulf pushed one hand back through his hair. "He may be an asshole, but he wouldn't hurt me." He sucked in a deep, ragged breath. "He refused to marry me."

  She covered her mouth. "What's wrong with him? Why wouldn't he marry you? Wait. What am I saying? Why would you want to marry a guy who mistreats you?"

  "He doesn't mistreat me. Fee. It's just... Look, marriage is a huge commitment. Luc doesn't enter into anything lightly. He analyzes everything in minute detail. He researches every business deal he makes."

  "You're not some business deal, Wulf."

  "That's not what I meant. Haven't you ever watched one of those specials about him? You have to know he isn't going to jump into marriage. I was an idiot to ask him."

  "Wait a minute." She rubbed a spot between her eyes. "You asked him to marry you?"

  "Yeah. Was that stupid or what? I've known him a couple of days."

  "A couple of days? Wulf! You told me you've known him since you were a kid." Fee rubbed her neck. "Which kind of creeps me out, if you want to know the truth."

  Wulf blinked. "Why?"

  "How old is this guy? How old was he when your father died?"

  "I don't know. Um... lemme think." Even tipsy, Wulf took care to guard Luc's origins. He skimmed back over the Chosen Chronicles, trying to piece together the "official" details. "He was born in 4601."

  "So he's in his late fifties. Nearly twice your age."

  "Please. Have you seen him?" Age had nothing to do with it. Luc would age to the point where his body could no longer heal itself rapidly and then he'd "die" and be reborn, younger, vital, ready for another hundred and twenty or more years. "Age doesn't matter to me. Besides, humans don't even reach middle age until they're seventy. He's in great shape. You ought to feel the muscle on him."

  "I'll pass."

  "Age doesn't have anything to do with this."

  "If you say so. He never touched you when you were a child, did he?"

  His mouth dropped open. "Feeyona Joie! How could you even think such a thing! I'm his..." He stopped himself from saying Chosen.

  Feeyona was watching him. "His what?"

  "I'm his best friend's son. Besides, if you knew him, really knew him, you'd know he'd never do anything to hurt a child. He's taken in foster children, you know. He's got an adopted son on Kelthia." Okay, Wulf, better leave out the part where Senth's a slave and Luc drugs him. Might not make your point very well.

  "I'm glad you think he's so wonderful. How does all that jive with him breaking your heart?"

  Wulf covered his eyes, tilting back his head to rest it against the bed. "It's complicated."

  "Isn't it always?"

  "He asked me to pose for him." Wulf met her gaze. "Can you believe it?"

  "I know how you feel about that." Fee drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them.

  "Guys all the time think I'm some pretty face. Want me to pose like I'm their personal model. 'You look like you stepped right off the screen'. Man, I hate that shit. I'm not some toy. Luc insisted. Wouldn't take no for an answer."

  "He's pushy, huh?"

  "Fuckin' dominating." Wulf bit his lips together, and then smiled. "Which is kinda hot sometimes, to tell the truth. Anyway, we had great sex, and I asked him to marry me, and then the next minute he was all ice and grit. He shut me out completely. I don't know how to deal with that." He lifted his head. Feeyona was studying him. "I'm sorry. More detail than you wanted, I know."

  "It's okay. We're friends. I cried all over your shoulder the night my former best friend stole my boyfriend, remember? You got to hear how much I hated the way he fucked anyway."

  He chuckled, shaking his fingers as if they burnt. "Yeah."

  Feeyona leaned forward again. "Wulf, honey. Are you sure you're safe where you are?"

  "Yeah." He reached out, trailed fingers down where her face would be. "I miss you, sweetie."

  "I miss you too."

  "Let's get together when I get back. We'll go get drunk together. I'll buy all the drinks if you let me whine about how hung my big hot stud is but how bad he treats me."

  She giggled. "If you promise not to tell me how badly he fucks."

  "Oh, honey. That is one thing you will never hear. He is a god in bed. Does me till my eyes roll back in my head."

  "Okay." Feeyona held up one finger. "Let me get this straight--no pun intended--he's filthy rich, loves kids... uh, is he a sports flake like you?"

  "Go Fists! He practically owns the team."

  "And you say he's hung?"

  "Like a bull." He made a cross over his heart and held up a hand. "I am not making that up."

  "Okay. And he fucks like a god. Tell me again why you want to leave him."

  Wulf set a hand over his mouth. "You know, since you put it that way..."

  Feeyona threw back her head and laughed.

  * * * *

  Kelthian orbit, C-1, Luc's private vessel

  Sumertsag 29, mid-morning

  Luc tiptoed into his darkened cabin. Wulf had curled up on the far side of the bed, his naked back to the door. The reek of whiskey filled the air, discarded clothing lay strewn across the floor, and an empty whiskey bottle sat on the table.

  Great. I'm in love with a lush. Luc picked up the
clothing as he passed through the room and deposited it in the laundry chute, grabbed the bottle by its neck and carried it into the bathroom to toss in the trash. He unzipped in front of the toilet and almost gagged at the brown water in the bowl. The smell of whiskey rose in pungent waves.

  Wait a minute. The water's the same color as the whiskey. No way. He leaned down toward the toilet. I can't believe I'm doing this. One sniff told him: whiskey. Wulf poured a bottle of whiskey down the commode. What the hell for?

  He relieved himself, flushed, and washed his hands. Above the sink on the mirror, Wulf had scrawled a message. Luc turned up the light to read it better.

  "Fuck you" had been written in some type of make up. The word "you" had been mostly smeared out and "me" had been written over it, followed by the word "please" as if Wulf had started out angry, and then forgiven him in stages.

  Stripping off his clothes, Luc turned out the light and headed for the bed.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kelthian orbit, C-1, Luc's private vessel

  Luc slipped under the covers and slid up behind Wulf. Taking his sleeping lover into his arms, he pulled Wulf against him.

  "Nnn." Wulf mashed his face into the pillows and rolled away.

  Luc gathered him close once more. Wulf's cologne seemed familiar, but not like his usual. No real scent of whiskey. He buried his nose against Wulf's neck and breathed. Delicious. Sweet. What is that? Wulf's skin felt smooth to the touch. Luc rubbed his fingers together, testing. Oil? Very faint, if so.

  Taking a handful of Wulf's dark hair, he drew it back from his ear and nuzzled closer. Like a snap, the scent registered. Baby oil. Luc grinned into the darkness. Lots of good uses for that. "Wulf. Love. Wake up."

  "Nnn. Wan' sleep."

  "Wake up." He rolled Wulf onto his back and slid his hand down the smooth chest, brushing fingers across his nipples. They pebbled immediately.

  The pale brown eyes fluttered open, dazed and sleepy. His lashes stuck together in endearing points. Wulf yawned, hooching around in the bed as he knuckled his eyes. "I'm still mad at you, Sempervian. After you make love to me I'm going to kick your ass."

  "You think so, do you?"