Bonded

by Jaymi Hanako

  “He has?” Her face flushed as she wondered exactly what Jaren had told the older man.

  “When explaining your qualifications for this job, he told me he owes you his life. He didn’t go into detail, except to say it involved poison.” He gave the packet a brief tap. “Perhaps this is the antidote?”

  How had he guessed? Taimi gazed into those old eyes; eyes that saw far too much and made her feel completely exposed. “Yes. It is.”

  * * * *

  The door to the bridge opened, followed by the distinctively heavy steps of his first mate. Jaren locked his gaze on the gauges in front of him, hoping against hope that Dev would understand he was in no mood to talk. “Engine at seventy percent. Continue powering up.”

  “What are you doing here, Captain?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? We all want to get off this system as soon as possible.”

  “You mean you want to.” Having someone know him as well as his first mate did was a distinct disadvantage at times. Dev crossed his beefy arms over his chest and glared. “I’m surprised you’re not with Taimi.”

  “I’m working, and so is she.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time you passed the takeoff procedures on to me.” Dev crooked a brow. “And since a little birdie told me you two shared a room during the festival, I really didn’t think you would want to be here.”

  “There were no other vacancies.” Jaren frowned at the gauges, though the instruments were telling him exactly what they were supposed to. “And she’s only staying in my quarters until we off-load some of the cargo. You know that.”

  “I know bullshit when I hear it.” Dev snorted. “I saw the way you look at her. You can’t deny you want her.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? I told you, she’s off-limits.” He tightened his fingers around the arms of his chair until his knuckles whitened. “She’s part of the crew now.”

  “I know. You keep saying that. I assumed it was just an excuse to warn me off.”

  “Dev.”

  “Come on, Jaren. How long have I known you now? Eight, nine years? I haven’t seen you this worked up over a woman since—”

  “Exactly.” Jaren interrupted before Dev could say the name out loud. Not that he was afraid to hear it, but nearby crew members were straining to hear every word. “I’ve made a fool of myself once. I’m not about to do it again.”

  Dev snorted. “You’re lying to yourself. Taimi is nothing like her, and you know that better than anyone. What are you afraid of?”

  “Nothing.” Denial came easy. Almost too easy.

  “She’s crazy about you. Even a blind man can see that.”

  “I know.” And that was part of the problem. He did care about Taimi. He cared about her a great deal. If he were honest, he might even admit his feelings for her were stronger than those for his ex-wife. Different, but stronger. Which meant she had more power over him than Ethlinda ever did.

  The power to hurt him.

  And that scared him. Really scared him.

  The tumult of emotions was tied up in his guilt. Guilt that had flared higher after her unintentional confession.

  She believed she was in love with him. He didn’t doubt that. But he also knew he didn’t deserve it.

  Lights on the panel in front of him flared, drawing his attention back to the task at hand. “Strap in,” he said. “We’re taking off.”

  He slid the throttle forward, and the Marama gave a violent shudder as it struggled to free itself from the pull of the Lorus system. An apt metaphor of his situation, in many ways. And Taimi’s.

  It seemed she was never far from his thoughts, no matter how he tried. One memory was particularly persistent: of the last time they’d tried to leave Lorus. The takeoff had been difficult for her, and though she was no longer confined to skirts… He should check on her. Make sure she was all right.

  They were free of the atmosphere. Jaren carefully schooled his expression and words to neutrality. “Take over here. There’s something I need to do.”

  Dev wasn’t fooled. At all. “It’s about time.”

  * * * *

  Taimi sat across from the doctor, their discussion quick and animated as they passed something between them. Everything looked completely normal.

  Jaren felt like a fool.

  Before he could slip back out, however, the older man saw him. A flicker of surprise passed through Doc’s eyes, though his voice remained professional. “Hello, Captain. Is something wrong?”

  Taimi scrambled to her feet. Her wary gaze met his for a brief moment before she quickly averted her eyes. Her stance was normal, her small feet side by side rather than spread apart for balance.

  He should have known she’d be a quick learner in this too.

  But she wasn’t completely steady. Nothing to do with the sensations of flight, though. Tiny tremors rippled up and down her slender form. She fidgeted, twisting her fingers in the loose fabric of her shirt and working her teeth into the soft flesh of her lower lip, reopening the barely healed cut there. His thoughts turned to the way those lips felt under his. Her taste. Her kiss.

  His heart threatened to pound right out of his chest, and he was grateful for the bagginess of his pants as his cock swelled. He forgot about their audience, forgot about his doubts. The only thought he focused on was the memory of the way she fit in his arms.

  Taimi flicked a look in his direction, through the long black screen of her lashes.

  A faint flush touched her golden skin, and their gazes locked.

  He didn’t know how long they stood there, staring and silent. The doctor cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Captain. I think I need to check on something. Back in my quarters.”

  It took a moment before Jaren comprehended the older man’s words. He might have nodded. An automatic reflex, nothing more. The door to the medical ward slid open, and the doctor left him alone with Taimi.

  “Did you—” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, her blush deepening. “Did you need something? Captain?”

  You, he thought, but it would be highly inappropriate for him to say. Their position, and every rule he’d set about bringing her on board, made it so.

  Those excuses seemed even flimsier now than before. Because they were just that.

  Excuses.

  He inhaled deeply. Even in the controlled, air-scrubbed environment, he thought he detected the delicate, spicy floral tones of the soap she’d used back at the inn. “I think we need to talk.”

  Taimi twisted her slender fingers together in the nervous gesture already so endearingly familiar, but only for a moment. She dropped her hands to her sides, and her expression became a blank mask.

  Pain shot through his heart as he faced the new emptiness in her gaze. He had done this to her. He’d thought he was doing the right thing, what needed to be done for her sake, but now…

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  No emotion. No life in her voice. Damn. “I don’t know.” Jaren stepped forward and caught her hands in his.

  Taimi jumped. Her soft skin enticed him, and he felt her tremble. Her dark, exotic eyes gleamed bright, sheened with the traces of tears, and the facade cracked. “Don’t.” Another difference between her and his ex-wife: Ethlinda had used tears as weapons without any feeling behind the gesture; Taimi fought to keep them from falling, even when she was hurting. Her lips quivered. “I thought you said we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

  “We shouldn’t.” But he didn’t let go, and Taimi didn’t pull away. Instead, he tightened his hold, stroking circles on the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “And maybe I was a fool for saying that in the first place.”

  “Maybe?”

  Jaren sighed. Rested his forehead against hers for a moment before he released her. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what’s right when it comes to you.” He tried to smile. “It’s complicated.”

  “I don’t understand.” She gave him another look from
beneath her lashes. Her slender throat worked hard, and the last bit of blankness evaporated from her eyes. And her voice. “Don’t you care about me?”

  “I do. That’s what makes this complicated.”

  “Jaren?”

  He turned to leave. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I need to think about this some more.”

  “Maybe you’re thinking too much.”

  He stiffened. Perhaps she had a point, but what could he say? “I’m glad to see you’re settling in all right. I need to get back to the bridge.”

  One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. Don’t look back.

  Part of him hoped she would call out to him, but in reality, there was nothing to be said. She had confessed everything on her side. Laid herself bare.

  If he didn’t know what he wanted, he couldn’t tell her what she needed to hear. Couldn’t feel what she needed him to feel in return.

  Despite his best intentions, he’d never been any better than Ethlinda. No, worse. He’d known all along how Taimi felt about him and let her wish for things he couldn’t give.

  She deserved so much more.

  Still, he couldn’t walk away. He was too selfish to walk away.

  He turned back. As he waited for the door to the medical ward to slide open, he heard an unexpected sound.

  Footsteps. Running.

  Odd.

  The crew should be at their stations or in their quarters. And if it were someone desperate to seek the attention of the medical staff—an accident in the mechanic’s bay, for example—the comm system negated the need for running about.

  “Captain! To your left!”

  The urgency in Taimi’s harsh cry demanded instant response. He caught a flash of movement, sidestepped, and felt a sharp prick in his upper arm, just below the shoulder.

  Jaren looked down. Yanked a needle and syringe, full of a cloudy white liquid, out of his upper arm. A laugh both unfamiliar and familiar echoed through the corridor. A figure emerged from the shadows. One of the young men from the machine shops. “Benj? What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing, Captain? I’m trying to kill you.” The crewman reached under his belt and pulled out another syringe. Removed the cap to expose the needle. “Guess I should have practiced first, but the off-world medicine man made it sound so easy. Fortunately, he gave me a very good price. I have plenty to spare.”

  The voice sounded right, but the words were strange. Benj spoke in the Lorian tongue, for one thing, which none of the crewmembers spoke besides Jaren and Dev and maybe the doctor. There was also a vaguely feminine air to his gestures, reminding him of—

  No. That wasn’t possible, even with her magic. Was it?

  “Why are you doing this, Benj?”

  The young man appeared puzzled for a moment. Then laughed again, the sound containing more bitterness than mirth. “Silly me. I forgot about my disguise.” He swept a hand over his body with a flourish, and the body wavered. Benj looked like the image from a bad transmission, shaking and lining in and out of focus. Parts of the young man’s body deformed, bulging out in odd lumps that slowly smoothed into the overtly lush and familiar curves of a woman.

  Ethlinda.

  Her voluptuous form strained the seams of the clothing stolen from Jaren’s young crew member. She gave him a smile he’d once found so very seductive, but now it only sent a cold shiver down his spine.

  “Hello, darling. Did you miss me?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “You!”

  The shocked expression on the captain’s face made every discomfort she’d suffered through the cloning spell worthwhile. Ethlinda laughed. “Now, now. Is that any way to greet your wife?”

  “Is that what you’re calling yourself now?” Jaren closed his fist around the syringe but kept his gaze locked on her.

  He looked wary. How nice. Ethlinda decided she liked a little fear in a man. Her other husbands had died too quickly, without suspecting her in the slightest, so that particular emotion had been noticeably absent.

  “Last I heard, you were calling yourself my widow.”

  “Well, it’s not exactly accurate. Is it?”

  “Never stopped you before.”

  “You’re not still mad about that, are you?” A subtle flick with her finger produced a tiny spell. Just enough magic to pop the top two buttons of her man-style shirt. She leaned forward, ensuring him a good view of her cleavage. “It wasn’t anything personal, darling. I did like you. Truly, I did. It was just…business.”

  “Business.” His gaze flicked to her breasts, just as she had expected. Ethlinda lifted the needle and lunged.

  He snapped his head up and raised his arms in a defensive position, proving he was more than ready for her.

  Forcing her to stop.

  Well. It seemed the good captain had changed after all. Emasculated by bedding the little slave. No true man would be so easily distracted from her breasts. He’d lost his taste for a real woman.

  A shame.

  It would have been fun to seduce him again, for old time’s sake. Though he’d been boringly predictable in bed, the impressive size of his cock more than made up for his lack of technique.

  Ethlinda took a discreet look at the front of his trousers to confirm what she already suspected. No visible swelling.

  Either he had learned a whole new level of sexual self-control over the last two years, or he didn’t desire her in the slightest. She looked back at his face.

  The blankness of his expression bothered her. She used to be able to read every thought in Jaren’s expressive features without using magic. But she couldn’t let such a minor detail stop her now. She pasted on another smile. “Can’t blame a woman for fighting for what she deserves in life.”

  Jaren snorted. “You do have an interesting view on things.”

  She spared a glance for the little slave, noting Taimi was closer to the confrontation than before. Her presence was unimportant. The girl had no strength to fight anyone.

  Ethlinda raised her chin. “I want what I deserve.” His skeptical expression annoyed her. Though she shouldn’t expect a mere off-worlder to understand the lifestyle demands Lorus society inflicted on anyone who desired to move up in rank. “I want what you owe me.”

  “You’re mad! I don’t owe you anything. The courts decided that.”

  “The courts.” Ethlinda sneered. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was? To have you betray me in front of everyone?”

  Jaren snorted again. He sounded like a bull when he did that, and she knew he could be just as stubborn as one. “Betrayed? You’re the one who tried to kill me.”

  How nice it must be, to see everything so simply. Typical off-worlder foolishness. “Things are different on Lorus.”

  “Not that different.”

  “Don’t complain, darling. You’re not dead.”

  “No thanks to you.” He stepped forward.

  She couldn’t let him get too close. Ethlinda was no match for his strength.

  Only one clear shot left. She needed to make it quick and efficient.

  The slave girl had moved closer too. Closer to the captain, seemingly without him being aware of her. They were not working together. Not consciously, at least.

  Fortunately for her.

  Ethlinda shifted the syringe in her hand, closing her fist around the glass. Her thumb rested on the plunger.

  She thrust forward, swinging her arm with all her strength. Aiming for the heart. The words of the old merchant filtered into her head: something about the importance of finding a vein.

  But veins were small targets. Too small. She just needed to get the potion under his skin. The heart was a good target. Even if she missed, she was almost certain of hitting something else.

  She ignored the flash of motion coming from the side. Big mistake.

  A hand clamped on to her wrist, and she tried to twist away. Her arm bent into an unnatural angle at the elbow. She let
the first tears flow as she looked at her tormentor, hoping to move Jaren to guilt over his carelessness.

  It wasn’t Jaren.

  The fingers were smaller and even more slender than her own. Like wire nails digging into her wrists.

  The little slave.

  Ethlinda jerked back but could not break free. There was a surprising amount of strength in those skinny digits. “What do you think you’re doing?” Frustration ruffled her tone more than she would have liked. It was always better to be composed, as befitted rank. “How dare you touch me!”

  Something flickered in the girl’s expression, and she faltered. A lifetime of submission, of obeying her masters, would be difficult to overcome. Though she’d defied Ethlinda before, she’d done it secretly, behind her mistress’s back. It was unlikely she had the will to do so in direct confrontation.

  Ethlinda pressed her advantage. “Unhand me. That’s an order.”

  Taimi’s hold wavered.

  Victory. How very sweet. Ethlinda smiled.

  Too soon.

  The girl straightened, and hot emotion flared to life in her eyes. “No.” Her voice grew stronger with each word that followed, though she retained a slight, almost comical veneer of decency in her address. “I won’t. I don’t belong to you anymore, lady. You have no right to order me to do anything.”

  “How sweet. You’ve actually been listening to the captain’s fairy tales.”

  “The courts of Lorus confiscated your property. Captain Caradoc bought my contract and set me free. Those are the reasons I don’t have to listen to you.”

  The foolish girl sealed her fate with those words. Now she had to die. Inconvenient, having to exert the effort when Ethlinda didn’t plan on it. She glanced in Jaren’s direction. The good captain made no attempt to hide his concern.

  How nice.

  This would definitely hurt him more than it would hurt her. It was almost better than killing him immediately, but Ethlinda needed to ensure he wouldn’t have the chance to play hero. Another quick finger-flick didn’t produce nearly as much magic as she would have liked—she was not yet recovered from the cloning spell. But it was enough to pin her former husband against the corridor wall, and wires from the ship’s infrastructure coiled around his hands, trapping them above his head.