His right hand swept the damp hair back off his forehead, and the hair stayed put, except for one strand that fell forward in a lazy arc. Dina watched as a drop of sweat formed on his forehead next to a thin scar. After a moment, the bead zigzagged down past his temple to his cheek, exactly following the scar’s path.
She wondered again about this man. She’d never met an actual raider before, but this one didn’t exactly fit the image she’d formed long ago, as so many did as a child. He had abducted her, his demeanor had been cold, and except when he’d carried her through the airlock tunnel, he hadn’t exactly been gentle with her. Yet there was something about him different from the criminals she had dealt with in the past.
On Exodus she’d been able to fairly accurately sense good and evil in the people she met, thanks to her telepathic talents and her natural ability to judge the character of others. It was one of the reasons she’d been a successful investigator. But this man kept his thoughts buried deep and his true emotions even deeper, and she’d been unable to do more than skirt the perimeter of his mind. She’d picked up no sense of evil, and yet, unable to read him as easily as she read others, there was no way to be sure about him.
The time display showed that fifteen minutes had passed since the drop ship had left the Tisiphone.
“Long range sensors are clear.” With his lips slightly parted, Kylariz stared at the displays for a minute, then another minute longer. Finally, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest of the pilot’s seat. He swallowed, and Dina watched his Adam’s apple move up and down. He looked totally spent, as if the brief chase had been the race of a lifetime.
Strange, she thought. This man’s escape means my doom, yet I almost feel like rejoicing with him.
She tried her voice. It emerged a scratchy whisper. “How did you know the mission ship would follow your ship and not this shuttle?”
He opened his eyes and turned to her. His narrow eyes gleamed in the low light. “I can’t tell you all my secrets. By my reckoning, the ISD are your brothers, or distant cousins at the least,” he said softly.
She stared at him and felt a bead of cold sweat trickle down her spine. Whether from the words he had just spoken or from the closeness of the cockpit, she wasn’t sure. She’d been right. He assumed her to be in the military.
She looked away. “I’m a civilian. I’ve never been with the ISD.”
“But you’ve been some sort of grayshirt, haven’t you? Some manner of idealistic Syn crusader sent forth to the heavens to keep the alien hordes in their place?” He sighed. “Perhaps it’s all to the good. Where we’re going, it’ll come in handier than if you’d been a dancer or a dream engineer.”
She ignored his barbs, more interested in their destination. “Just where are we going? Will you tell me that?”
“Ror. Surely you know Ror, the Synergy’s grandest fiasco?”
She’d heard of it, of course. “I’ve never been there. It’s a barbarous place, if the stories are true, no doubt made so by the likes of you.”
“Well then, Hellfire, you’re in for a rare treat. You can experience Ror’s charms first hand and make up your own mind about the place. But the Syn made Ror what it is, not me. The Synergy, like a parent that forswears a bastard child, has a slippery foothold there at best, so there’s no law to speak of. Ror is peopled by a primitive humanoid species, none too friendly I might add, and a pool of the dirtiest sludge of humankind to co-exist anywhere in the galaxy. Raiders, smugglers, criminals, con-men . . .”
Just as she’d heard. “Then you should feel right at home.” She didn’t care in the least if she offended him.
He turned toward her again and gave her a tolerant look, his eyebrows lifting lazily and the corners of his mouth almost lifting. “Oh, aye, I do.”
Dina cocked her head in surprise. She’d expected a self-righteous denial to her verbal dart. His ready admission that he felt at home among the sludge loosed more shivers to race down her spine. She supposed his words could be nothing but bluff and bravado, but she suspected it was no more than cold truth.
“How long before we reach Ror? I can’t feel my hands,” she ground out.
“Only three standard days,” he said mildly, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort.
“You can’t mean to keep me like this the whole time.”
“What else would you have me do with you? There’s no cabin on this shuttle I can lock you in. If I don’t restrain you, I’m afraid you’ll crack me on the head and commandeer the ship.”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t know how to pilot a ship like this.”
He raised his eyebrows again. “I know no such thing. In fact, I’ve a feeling you’re smarter than you look.”
She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh of frustration. Gods, he was stubborn! But then, Rayn had been, too. What had worked with Rayn? The truth. She couldn’t tell Kylariz the truth about her background. He was a criminal and obviously harbored a strong hatred for all the arms of Synergy law. No, she would learn more about him before divulging her past. She had to say something, though—and fast—to persuade him to take off the restraints. They were biting into her skin as well as cutting off her circulation.
“Take the cuffs off. I promise I won’t do anything to try to harm you or this ship. Please. My hands have gone numb.”
He gave a soft snort. “I don’t give a damn about your comfort, Hellfire. And I haven’t survived this long believing every promise made to me.” Kylariz didn’t even spare her a glance. His attention was on the console.
Bastard. Dina leaned forward and shifted her weight, trying to relieve some of the pressure from her hands. When she’d done the best she could, she leaned back and closed her eyes. She’d appealed to him as civilly as she knew how, and it had gained her nothing. Struggling now would just put her in greater discomfort. Instead, she practiced her relaxation techniques, hoping it would calm her and enable her to better endure the pain.
Several moments later Kylariz rose from his seat and knelt beside her. He slid his right hand along her waist to the small of her back, and she jerked her body away from his touch. “What do you think you’re doing?” She twisted her head in his direction and all but spat out the question.
“I was going to take these off, but maybe you prefer the wrist jewelry as is.” His voice was soft, but the tired lines in his otherwise impassive expression seemed to indicate that his placability was due more to disinterest than gentleness or concern.
“No, I don’t prefer it like this, but you could have let me know what you were doing,” came the reply that sounded petulant to her own ears.
“I apologize, Your Highness. Would you like them off?”
“Yes, please.” She pictured the first thing she wanted to do with her freed hands. Slap his face. She smiled at the thought.
Kylariz again skimmed his hand slowly over her waist until it nested in the curve of her lower back. The fingers of his large hand brushed hers, and she shivered again in the heat of the cabin, but this time the shiver wasn’t due to fear. Most people would probably say a man like him had an undeniable presence, but she felt it more acutely than that. She was sensitive to auras, and his was the strongest she had ever experienced. His was also the first bicolor aura she’d seen. The top of his aura was red, and that was no surprise. Red was masculine, assertive, and domineering, and Kylariz was certainly all that. But the bottom was yellow, a negative color, and she found that to be strange. Yellow was unbiased and non-judgemental, and he hardly seemed that. When his fingers had touched hers, his aura had been tangible—sparks that danced along her skin, raising the hair on her arms.
He whispered a soft command, and the bands sprang open and fell from her wrists. He caught them and stood, and she wondered why he’d touched her when all that was needed was a verbal directive to remove the cuffs. Bastard.
He waited while she shook her arms in front of her to restore circulation. Annoyed that he was standing there towering over her, she looked up at him, but decided now was not the time to slap him. Not while he twirled the cuffs on one long finger like a street performer.
“In front.”
She gave him a wide-eyed look.
“In front or behind. Your choice.”
She had a police officer’s vocabulary of profanity, and the names she silently fired at him made “bastard” sound mild. Finally, she swallowed a sigh of frustration and held out her hands in front of her. He snapped the cuffs back on. At least the pressure was now off her shoulders and arms, and while the restraints still chafed her skin, it was a definite improvement.
“Why bother? I know you didn’t do this for my sake,” she said, unable to keep either the edge from her spoken voice or the vulgarity from the voice of her mind.
He looked in her direction, but his eyes were focused behind her, as if he were listening to her silent flaming of his birth, parentage, and the size of his manhood. “You’re right, I didn’t. You won’t be of any help to me when we land if you’re injured.”
More unflattering names rose to her lips and mind, but she fought to suppress them. She wanted answers from this man and wouldn’t get them by trading insults.
“The mission ship. When they catch Rhoan and discover you’ve slipped away, won’t they figure out where you’ve gone?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Of course. The Syn are many things, but hardly stupid.”
“Aren’t you worried?”
The smile grew. “Not especially.”
“That seems foolhardy to me, and I don’t think you’re a foolhardy man.”
He sighed, as if he were explaining a basic of life to a young child. “They have a confiscated ship and a prisoner to process. They won’t be in a rush. Besides, if they think they know where I am, there’s no need to rush. They can come after me anytime they wish.”
“And I suppose that doesn’t worry you, either.”
“No.” When Dina continued to stare at him with her eyebrows raised, he elaborated. “The denizens of Ror, such as they are, have no love for the Synergy. Syn agents won’t get much cooperation without heavy bribes, and the Synergy is as tight with their funds as a rat with its tap. Besides, I have friends in Paradise.”
“Friends? I thought you didn’t trust anyone.”
He turned to her and leaned as close to her as he could. “No, little Hellfire, I didn’t say that. I don’t trust people I don’t know,” he whispered.
The look on his face and his closeness held her still for a moment, and his aura brushed her skin like whiskers. She shivered, and only when he turned away could she take a deep breath. “What’s Paradise?”
“The sludge pool I referred to. The largest port on Ror.”
“That’s where we’re going?”
He didn’t answer. What the hell, she thought. She took another deep breath. “What are you going to do with me?”
When silence again followed her question, she wanted to scream. She bit back all the names she wanted to yell at him.
“I don’t know yet,” he said quietly at last, not looking at her.
It hadn’t been the first vague answer he’d given her, but she sensed candid uncertainty in his words rather than evasiveness, and the touch of vulnerability heartened her. Perhaps he’d be honest with her after all. She tried again. “Rhoan said you were Roven. What’s that?”
He turned his head toward her, but his eyes were focused forward, in the direction of the stars. “Something the likes of you would never understand. And given that you’re most likely a grayshirt, I’ve told you too much already.”
So much for frankness. “I don’t work for the government in any capacity. I was going to B’harata on personal business.”
In reply, all she heard was the soft purr of the shuttle and the whir of the circulating air.
Dina tried yet a different tact. She had to get an answer to her question. “I’m not a Syn agent, but what if I were? What would that mean to you? Would it guarantee my future as a slave? Would you seek out the dirtiest slave broker in Paradise to sell me to?”
He turned to her, his eyes so narrowed she couldn’t see even glints of light from them. “That’s it, isn’t it? You are an agent, and you’re afraid to tell me for fear I’ll do just that.”
Why did he hate the Syn so much? “No, that’s not it,” she said forcefully. “I’ve told you the truth. But you won’t believe it. You’ll do with me as you will.”
“Oh, aye, I will,” he replied softly.
She said no more.
Neither spoke for hours, and Dina drifted in and out of sleep. Finally, the rumble of hunger in her stomach woke her, and she looked at Kylariz. His head was tilted back against the headrest, and his eyes were closed. Sleep relaxed the lines in his face, giving him a mask of youthful innocence. She briefly wondered what raiders dreamed of.
She shifted her hands to keep the circulation going, and at the small snick of metal on metal as the cuffs scraped against each other, Kyl opened his eyes and turned to her.
“I know you don’t especially care, but I’m hungry,” she said.
He got up, stepped to a stowage locker, and returned with a handful of foil packets. He tossed her a few. “Grub. Enjoy. It’s all you’re going to get.”
Dina looked at the packets and then at him.
His eyebrows rose. “Space paste.”
“I know very well what they are,” she replied coldly.
“Oh, I see. Syn agents get better than this on their flights, do they? Sit-down dinners with natural form food instead of thermostabilized or irradiated? Well, you’re not so privileged anymore.”
She knew she should be grateful for any food at all, as she had expected nothing, but the raider’s tone and his insistence in believing her to be a Synergy agent infuriated her.
But he appeared to take no notice, opening one of the packets and squeezing its contents into his mouth.
After a moment, during which time her rebellious stomach again signaled its presence, she did likewise. The paste had little flavor, but at least it was palatable. She ate the contents of all the packets he’d given her and, feeling better, leaned back in the seat and gazed out the forward view port.
With no atmosphere to affect the starlight, the stars didn’t twinkle or waver as they had when she was on Glacia or Exodus, but glowed with a steady brilliance. Nor was the sky all black and white, but as colorful as an artist’s palette. Stars shone yellow, red, and blue against the rich background.
Instantly, she was transported to the Exodus of her mind’s eye, and she saw herself sitting on the desert floor with Rayn’s arms around her, her head lifted to the heavens. It was night, just after the first time they’d made love, and Dina had thought then that she’d never before beheld such a magnificent night sky. She remembered thinking that the stars sparkled like countless exodite gems, glittering every color of the rainbow . . . yet paling in comparison to Rayn’s love.
Determined not to allow the tears to well, she tucked the bittersweet memory away. Kylariz looked at her, saw where her gaze was focused, and smiled. It was the first smile she’d seen on his face that hadn’t been twisted by cold contempt or dark derision.
“Beautiful, aren’t they? I never tire of reading,” he said.
She scrunched her brows together. “Reading?”
He nodded toward the view port. “The stars. No book can tell such stories as can the heavens. Always the same. Always changing,” he said, his voice almost reverent. It was obvious he’d mistaken the emotion on her face for awe of the starry sky.
But she said nothing to correct his misconception, instead studying his face for a moment before she, too, looked back to the stars.
He leaned toward her and pointed just off the port side of the ship’s nose, but she ignored his fingers and instead watched his eyes, directing her gaze to the same spot. “See that glittering pink cloud shaped like a flower? That’s the Rhodon Nebula.”
“It is beautiful,” she breathed in his ear.
He leaned away from her and took a deep breath. “There’s an asterism to the right of the nebula, with four stars in a diamond. See it? Just above the top point of the diamond is a red star, there, called Xan, and a yellow star, there, called Rhyff,” he said softly, nodding at two bright stars directly over the ship’s nose.
“Strange names for stars.”
“Ah, but they’re not really stars, but gods. I can tell you their story, if you’ve a mind to hear it.”
She was curious, especially given his reticence to tell her anything. She shrugged, feigning indifference. “I’m a captive audience, Captain, so indulge yourself.”
He leaned back, and she saw his eyes shift back and forth, as if the stars were indeed words to be read. “Xan was a shifter. In her human form, she was as beautiful as the night sky, with long hair as black as deep space, skin as luminous as moonlight, and eyes that shone like blue stars. While in her human form she called herself Xan-tenet, the Lady of the Earth.”
Dina turned, the stars forgotten, and watched the face of the man as he spun the story. His features softened, and his voice, speaking quietly in the strange accent, mesmerized her with its deep vowels, slurred consonants, and almost musical rhythm. It was a rough voice, not rich and refined, but born of backways and forged by forces she could only guess at.
“Xan-tenet fell in love with Rhyff, who was just a man, without the ability to transform himself, but he was no ordinary man. He was a warrior, having fought many years for the liberty of his homeland, Eaven-la-mel. His scars and worn body, injured time and again in battle, belied his relative youth and handsome features. Xan-tenet saw not the scars, but the warmth of his eyes, and when he held her, she felt not his weakness, but the strength of his heart, his loyalty, and his courage.
Crimson Rain Page 5
