by Candy Nicks
"What have I done?” she whispered.
Dan rolled onto his back, chest heaving. He scrubbed at the congealing blood, smearing it over his cheeks, his mouth and chin. He let out a short, grating laugh.
"You just saved all our lives. That's what you just did."
* * * *
What he didn't tell her was that she had also most likely blown a hole in the side of the ship. As well as alerted everyone within hearing to her presence. News of the explosion would spread like white fire, rumours would start.
They were about to become very popular.
"He's unhurt.” Shula crouched over Cristan, cradling the child. Behind her, stood one of the security guards, face inscrutable. The other emerged from the bathroom, wiping his hands on a drying-cloth.
Dan hauled himself up on one elbow and grimaced.
"Containment,” he said to the guard. “What can you do?"
"Call it a reciprocator blow-out. Mistress Sal is on her way."
Damn, that was two people too many who'd seen Shula and the child. Sal's men were bonded trustees, tagged, their lives liable to be snuffed out at the merest hint of disloyalty. But they would report fully on what they'd seen. He moved his head, discretely pointing Shula to the sleeping-cabin. Her mouth a thin line, she nodded and rose without further comment.
Reciprocator blow-out might explain the explosion. But if a base-team was not hired to put right the damage, people would ask why. Moment news of it got out, the con would be abuzz with messages offering cut-price spare parts.
"How did the Shoari get in?” Dan sat up and twisted his neck back into place. His head felt three sizes too big and if the brute had cracked his skull, he'd need a medic to solder the bone.
"Found a hole under the ship, port-side."
"And the integrity-sensor didn't pick it up?” He got himself upright, holding on to the wall until the corridor stopped swinging from side to side.
"We found a crawler stuffed into the hole."
Closing his eyes, Dan managed to stop the inappropriate laughter and braced for Sal and her interminable questions.
"Have we retained integrity in the bathroom?"
"Mainly a clean-up, which we execute at Mistress Sal's command. She arrives now."
"Mainly?” Dan fended off the nausea and straightened. “We need to leave asap."
"I've already filed your flight plan.” Sal appeared, face creased with concern when she saw his injuries. “I should terminate you both for allowing this,” she said to the guards. “Contain this mess and give me a damage report. Now!"
"You want to change ships, Dan?"
He covered his face with his hands. Considered the offer. “I can't afford a new ship. I can't afford a single seat on a new ship. Transgalactic goods transfer don't pay like it used to. Decoy would be good though. If you could manage that?"
Sal gave him a tight smile. “Where you headed?"
"Come up front. This is already out of control."
On the flight-deck, he flopped into his custom-seat and tipped it back.
"Let me worry about where I'm headed. What did they tell you?” he said.
"That you have a woman and a child onboard."
"I got the General on my back. Astor's mediating that one. Can you rig up a line of credit rats? Put him off the scent for a while?"
"Astor?” Sal raised a bushy eyebrow. “He's not that stupid."
"Untangling the threads will keep him busy for a while. By the time he gets to source, we'll have a head-start on them."
"With a hole in your hull? You'll be lucky to get off planet."
"Then rig me a patch.” He regarded her coolly. “Sal, forget business and return of favours. I need all the friends I can muster right now."
"Let me see her."
"See who?"
"The Lady Shula. Of the most noble Estepharian house of Aluderia. Godmother to king presumptive, Prince Cristan, Aluderes the fourth, heir to the Kalimar throne of Aluderia. I want to pay my respects. Not often we have a royalty on the base."
"Admit it. You're just a sucker for a baby."
"We get even less of those,” she replied dryly. “Introduce me."
"I'm fond of them."
Sal acknowledged the simple words and the weight of their meaning with a tight nod. When they entered the sleeping-cabin, Shula rose from her perch on the bed to quickly stand between them and the child.
"Friend,” he said. “Shula meet Sal. Me and her old dad go way back."
"You told her who we were?” Shula's eyes widened in accusation.
"Sal's clever enough to work it out for herself. She wants to see Cristan."
Sal had already moved towards the child, bending to stare at him intently. The look of longing on her face took Dan aback.
"Your majesty,” she whispered and then turned to Shula “Would it be presumptuous to ask to hold him?"
"He loves being held,” Dan cut in before Shula could protest. “Go ahead.” If Sal needed proof of their trust and loyalty, then what better way to show it?
Cristan creased his features, puzzled at the new face regarding him with such intense scrutiny. Sal acknowledged the marks on the baby's hand with only a brief pause.
"I might just keep him,” she said lightly. “Bring him up as my own son. He's beautiful."
Dan grasped Shula's arm in warning. Stopped her from snatching away the child.
"You would make him a wonderful mother,” he said. “I can't think of a better person to place him with."
"But?” Sal said, a wry smile on her lips. “He is already promised. And eventually he must return home. I hope he will be able to thank you, one day, for the life you chose for him."
"He will know of your kindness.” Shula extended her arms to receive the child. Tensions visibly draining once she had him back in her grasp.
"We shall see.” Sal clapped her hands and flipped back to command-mode. “My men will patch the ship, but get her properly repaired before you attempt hyper-jump. She won't survive it otherwise. I can disappear a few parts without anyone noticing, but too many and people will start asking about the who, the why, the where. We have a few supply ships due out today. I'll swap you an exit-code and flight plan. Is the ship capable of a 360? That will bring the least notice."
"I'll fly her off on my own back, if I have to,” Dan replied. “Mask us and keep Astor busy for a while. And leave the rest to me."
"Fortune fly with you, Dan. And give my regards to the Dragon-Master. So you get your absolution at last?” She squeezed his shoulder. “I'm pleased for you, boy. Never liked seeing your soul out there, in the wilderness."
She finished by placing a lingering kiss on his bloody cheek. “You may thank the Lady Shula for the hair,” she whispered. “Keep her. She'll be good for you."
"Too good for a rogue like me,” he whispered back. “Save your prayers for the kid. I was always a bit of a lost cause."
Sal shook her head. “Oh, not any more, Dan. Not any more."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 9
"Didn't your mother teach you not to pick fights while wearing your best clothes?"
"My mother didn't teach me a lot of things. Never knew her, or my father. Ahh..."
Shula stopped her gentle probing. “You should rest. Lie down on the bed. Are you sure nothing is broken?"
"Sal gave me a quick scan. Hairline fracture, no clots. Big bruises. I'll live. Help me off with this."
"I'll never get the stains out,” Shula said sliding the soiled shirt from his back. Scanning Dan anxiously for wounds. “Blood is a complete...” Sudden tears pricked her eyes. She wiped them away with her wrists. “Ignore me. You're the one who's hurt and I'm the one crying. I thought I'd be stronger than this."
"Taking out an elite Shoari bounty-hunter single handed isn't strong? I'd hate to see you really angry."
"It's not a pretty sight.” Despite the banter, the smile wouldn't come. “Stop talking, you'll split your lip again be
fore the sealer gets a chance to work. Here, hold this over your eye and lie back."
"Don't have time to lie down.” Dan sucked in a hissing breath at the feel of the cold salve hitting abused flesh. “Got to keep an eye on the ship's vitals. I've sealed off the rear-hold, but if that hull-patch goes, we'll have to make land-fall pretty quick. Come up front with me. I'll show you what to do if I pass out."
"Don't you dare!” The panic was genuine. She'd never driven anything larger than a land-car. If she had to pilot the ship, they were doomed.
They were doomed anyway. The Shoari was only the first of many. They'd keep on coming until she and Dan couldn't fight them off any more. At that moment Dan didn't look as if he could fight off a baby, let alone a fully trained, single-minded bounty hunter.
Her eyes filled up again. Delayed shock. At the attack. Their survival. “Give me a moment to get myself together,” she said. “I really thought I would be forced to watch Cristan die."
"Not the Shoari.” Dan hooked a hand about her neck. Pulled her in between his thighs. She felt his fingers push into her shorn hair."They work for ransom or trade. Cristan's too valuable a commodity to terminate on sight."
"Don't talk about him like that."
"That's how they see him.” His fingers drifted lower, tracing the line of her neck, her collar-bone. Leaving a trail of heat in its wake. She tipped back her head, exposing her throat. Answering his unspoken question.
"What are you doing, Dan?"
"Taking advantage of the lack of marker. What do you think?"
Her heart clenched. “Is this all we have? To be together when I'm angry, or sad, or terrified out of my mind?"
Tilting his head, he peered at her through the least-swollen of his eyes. “Why should I want it any other way? I told you—.
"Yes, I know.” She loosed herself from his arms. Half-twisted away. Found herself held fast in his strong grip. “Let me go. Cristan might wake up. I don't like doing this while he's in the same room."
"Any more excuses?” Dan turned her back to face him. Cupped her cheek.
She resisted the urge to lean into his touch. Why make things worse by showing how much she wanted him?
"There are a thousand different reasons why we shouldn't do this,” she said. “You trust me. I trust you. We have nothing to prove to each other. Doing this will only lead to heart-ache."
"Then break my heart. Wouldn't be the first time it happened. Won't be the last."
"I don't believe you,” she said, temper rising. “How can you say things like that? How can you be so cruel?"
He released her and stood, bringing his body flush with hers. His hard arousal evident. “Because I want you,” he ground out. “And the only way I can have you is like this. I don't want to be your love-slave. I want more than that. Does that answer your question?"
"You still don't trust me?” Tears fell unchecked, the shock of the attack finally overwhelming her. “I don't believe you."
"Believe what you like. I've got a ship to fly. People to out-run. You're not the only one who's hot. General gets hold of my ass; I won't be sitting down any time soon."
"Who's the General?” She almost had to run to keep up with Dan as he strode back to the flight-deck, stopping by the galley to retrieve his jacket. He slipped it on and slumped into his custom-seat.
"Not as grand as his name implies, but I owe him more than I can pay. You picked the wrong guy to be your saviour. Do you know how many ships were trailing us before we stopped off at the third moon?"
She lowered herself carefully into the co-pilot seat, swivelling it around to face him. Noticed with alarm the slight tremor of Dan's hand. Impulsively, she bent her head and kissed the dragon's tail. Remembered the marks he'd given Cristan. When he pulled away, she slipped her hand into his and held him in place.
"When we first met, you showed me your dragon. Why did you do that?"
Dan shrugged. Leaned forward to study the read-out screen."
"Stop, Dan, and talk to me. Why did you draw my attention to the dragon? Why won't you tell me anything about it?"
"Because the less you know, the safer I can keep Cristan."
"Tell me why you marked him. What is has to do with your absolution? Tell me why you're so scared of me."
The silence stretched between them. Dan's right eye was swollen closed now. His left not far behind. Every move had him gritting his teeth against the pain. He stared stubbornly at the read-out, refusing to acknowledge her questions. Building a shield with his pride.
There must be a time at which love begins. A time of looking back on and thinking: yes, that's the moment I knew. Her heart reached out to his, aching, melting.
Falling in love with a man she couldn't have. Not the wisest thing she'd ever done.
She turned his hand over and placed a lingering kiss on his work-roughened palm. When he made no move to stop her, she ventured further and pushed back the jacket to kiss her way across his shoulder to the curve of his neck. Her other hand, she placed flat on his chest, resting lightly over the crisp hairs. He stayed very still, neither helping nor pushing her away.
"Show me how to fly the ship,” she said, sliding onto his knee. “And don't tell me you've never had a woman in this position before."
"Good friend of mine died in a one-man A70 shuttle with his girlfriend on his lap. Trying to impress woman does terrible things to the aerodynamics."
"You've already impressed me. Tell me what to do.” She whispered close to his ear, lips tickling the skin. “What I should touch and what I should steer clear of. You said you'd teach me to control this thing, so teach me."
"It's just a question of mind-set. Overcoming your preconceptions."
"Like this?” Taking a deep breath, she imagined the two of them in perfect balance, locked in a kiss that was as much give as take. Balance was the key to holding back the marker. She knew that. Achieving it was a different matter when Dan had no marker to counter hers.
Holding on to the picture, she pressed back against Dan's hard erection, making him groan and grind his hips against her back. His hands moved without her prompting, covering her breasts with his dragon and his star. Hot breath fanned her nape, soft lips touched her skin. Like an offering, she tipped her head forward silently begging him to continue.
"Oh Shula.” He bit lightly, sucking on her exposed skin. “There's no future for us, even if we can control this thing. Don't start thinking there is. Doesn't matter how much we both want it. If we live through this, and that's unlikely, I can't offer you anything."
"I'm not asking for a future,” she lied. “Just a now. If the future is so uncertain, shouldn't we be making the most of now?"
"I'm about to drop, sweetheart.” His voice was a bare whisper. “Defences are low. You keep on being nice to me and I won't stand a chance. I want to carry you to bed and fuck you slowly after savouring every inch of your sensitive flesh. I want to be inside you for so long, you won't remember a time I wasn't there. See what you do to me?"
The words engulfed her with such longing, her heart threatened to break right there.
"You paint a wonderfully sad picture.” She leaned back into the crook of his arm, laying her head onto his shoulder. “If you still want me, I'm sad enough to be safe. Shall we do it here, or find somewhere more comfortable?"
His lips touched her forehead and then he leaned his cheek on her hair.
"With or without the marker, I'm never going to be safe around you, Shula. With you, I'm in danger of becoming one of the good guys, and that scares the shit out of me."
"You are one of the good guys."
"You won't be saying that tomorrow."
"What happens tomorrow?"
"If we survive our next move,” he said in a weary tone. “You get to find out just what kind of man I really am."
* * * *
Comes a time in a man's life when he just needs somewhere to call home. The vision was too tempting. A house. A piece of land. A baby in a cradle a
nd a wife in his bed.
Dan cleared his head and returned his attention to the calcs. The Bradley Compensation might just do it. Or then again, they might just break up on entry, or materialise in the middle of some distant star.
Lord of Sin, the read-out had to be wrong. Six craft following his precise trajectory. Mostly slower, single-pilot vessels, but the chances of random matches this close were slim.
"Double mask and reverse,” he ordered the computer. It would confuse their pursuers for a couple of hours maybe, but once they'd unscrambled the code, they'd be back on his tail.
"Configure hyper-bounce,” he said hopefully. A series of lines worked their way across the read-out screen, ending in a V-shaped spike.
Fuck. They were toasted elgrats. “Reverse third primary,” he said and punched in a row of figures. Sitting back, he bit his thumb and waited.
Well, there was the bounce, but a fifty-percent chance of break up on re-entry was too much. He leaned in closer, screwing up his swollen eyes for a better look. Of course. He'd forgotten to trim the rafter-gens.
Scenario seventy-five percent ideal. The computer's robotic voice droned out the specs. Enact?
"Store and standby,” he said and heaved himself out of his custom-seat. Twenty-five percent chance they'd die in the jump. Hundred percent chance they'd be caught if he didn't pull something spectacular out of the bag.
He found Shula in the galley, a replete Cristan lolling in her arms.
"My lack of hair confuses him, I think.” Lowering her head, she let the child grab hold of a lock of her short hair. “See sweet-heart, it's still there. It will grow again."
Cristan stuck a thumb into his mouth and regarded them both with sleepy eyes.
"You want to go put him down?” Dan said. “I need to talk to you."
He waited for her in the galley, helping himself to a brandy, pouring one for her. She returned, eyes a little anxious.
"What is it?"
The brandy burned his throat, just the way he liked it. “Here,” he said and pushed the beaker towards her. “Drink and tell me how brave you feel."
"Will getting me drunk turn off the marker? I thought you'd decided...” She fingered the beaker, lifted it and sniffed the contents. “I'm not as brave as I imagined I would be. Here's to you and yours.” She lifted the beaker in salute before throwing the contents down her throat and slapping the cup onto the table as tradition demanded. “Oh,” she said grasping at the table-ledge. “Intoxicating."
