Rayne focussed on the scars with an obvious effort, and raised a hand to trace one with a finger. He tensed, and she withdrew her hand. “How could they do this to you?”
“You mean damage me?” He snorted. “It didn’t detract from my value all that much.”
“I mean hurt you. Nothing you could have done deserved this.”
Tarke frowned at his hands. He still found it uncomfortable to be in her company without his mask, and even worse when he was not wearing his vest and shirt. “I was a slave. It came with the territory.” He stood up and moved out of her reach. “Now that you’re feeling better, perhaps you’d care to wait for me in the lounge. You’re early, you know.”
“I know. I wanted to talk to you.”
“You seem to have got more than you bargained for. It won’t be the topic of conversation, by the way.”
Rayne glanced at his scars again, unable to hide her horror. The one in the centre of his chest, a legacy of the laser burn he had received aboard the Draycon ship, was still pink.
Tarke turned away, and she whimpered at the sight of the scars on his back, clamping a hand over her mouth. There were so many that they overlapped in layers; decades of torture cut into his skin in pale patterns of pain. She could envision them running with blood, and imagine the agony he must have endured at the time of their infliction. He swung around with a frown, and his expression became concerned as he returned to sit beside her again, studying her.
“You may be an empath, but you can’t possibly feel pain that happened years ago.”
“I can imagine it. I know all about pain.”
He nodded. “Perhaps you can, but it’s not doing you any good, so stop it. I don’t want you drifting off again.”
“Why did they do that to you?”
“I wasn’t a particularly well-behaved slave. The collar inflicts terrible pain, but it’s fleeting, gone in a few moments. There were times when they wanted me to suffer for days, even weeks, and the best way to do that is with a flogging. It’s also humiliating, and can break even a strong man’s spirit.”
“But they never broke yours.”
“No,” he said. “But they came close on a couple of occasions.”
“Is this why you gave me an apartment, because you didn’t want me to see this? Because now that I have -”
“No.”
“There’s no reason we can’t be together. I don’t want there to be secrets between us -”
“Rayne...”
“I want us to be happy. We deserve to be happy, don’t we?”
“We do, but this isn’t the reason for it.”
“Then what?” she asked.
“I don’t want to discuss it. Be content with what we have. You’re happy, aren’t you? You’re not taking those filthy drugs anymore. You have a purpose and friends, don’t you?”
“Yes, but -”
“Then be content with that, okay?”
“Why?”
He jumped up, heading for the bathroom again. “Because I say so.”
“It has to do with your past, doesn’t it?” She followed him, refusing to be put off this time. “You don’t have to tell me about that. Just tell me why we can’t be together.”
He turned in the doorway, blocking it. “The two are inextricably intertwined, I’m afraid. If I tell you the reason, you’ll want to know what caused it, and that, I don’t wish to talk about. Are you so unhappy? Can’t you be content with what we have? I am.”
“What do we have? An occasional dinner together when you’re not off saving the universe, or, at least, your corner of it. A little pleasant conversation. That’s not a marriage.”
“Oh, so you want the whole deal now, do you? I set out the conditions of the marriage before you agreed, and you knew what you were getting into. Now you’re not happy with it.”
She looked away, hating to seem so ungrateful. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’ve done for me...”
“But you want more. Well, I’m afraid I can’t oblige. Sorry.”
“Why?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I hate that question.”
“Is it because you don’t care for me like a husband? Are you incapable of such feelings?”
“No.”
“Then you do -”
“Damn it, Rayne, will you stop fishing? You’re not going to catch what you want, and that’s a promise. My feelings are not the issue; nor are yours. I don’t pry, so leave mine out of it too. This topic is best left alone, for both our sakes. If it’s breached, it will be bad for us, perhaps even destroy what we have. Do you want that?”
“No.” She stepped back, surprised by his vehemence. “Then does this mean we’ll never -?”
“Yes. That’s what it means.” His eyes glowed in the bathroom’s cool lights. “Happy now? We’ll never have more than this, and this is what you accepted. This is what you agreed to. There’s no way out of the deal now, and that’s the end of it. Make the most of it. Find something else to distract yourself. Open a casino on Lericon, build a monument on Triban, start a hospital on Grandor. Whatever you want. You have unlimited choices. You have no reason to be unhappy.”
His words hurt, and Rayne searched his face for clues to his rejection until he looked away. She reached for his emotions as she had never done before, probing his shields until he frowned, but he still refused to look at her. All she could sense was a deep unhappiness tinged with anger, which only told her that he meant what he said. Swallowing the lump of misery that blocked her throat, she lowered her gaze to the floor.
“Then there’s nothing more to say,” she murmured.
“No, there isn’t.” When she headed for the main doors, he asked, “Where are you going?”
“Back to my apartment, where I belong.”
He overtook her and blocked her way again. “Are you all right?”
“Such concern,” she said, glaring at him. “If you’re worried that I might try to drown my sorrows in drugs again, don’t. I’m not stupid enough to make that mistake twice, although apparently I am stupid enough to marry a man who didn’t want a wife.”
He hesitated before placing his hands on her shoulders, and she supressed a shiver at his touch. “I did,” he said. “I do. We’re a great team, and we have fun together, don’t we?” She nodded, and he went on, “I can talk to you, and you know more of my secrets than anyone else. You’re a great help, telling me when my enemies are lying and running the dome. Your empathy doesn’t bother me, and I hope my peculiarities don’t bother you too much. Let’s make the most of what we have, okay?”
“If you won’t tell me why we’re not together, will you tell me why you married me?”
He released her, looking away. “I told you at the time; you deserved a better life. You’d have killed yourself eventually. Is that any way for the Golden Child to end up? The girl who saved Atlan, and the rest of us, probably.” He smiled and glanced at her with eyes that looked like they could melt steel. “You’re my heroine, and I’m your guardian. Isn’t that enough?”
“No,” she said, struggling to hide her tears. “I thought there would be more.”
“I’m sorry, Rayne. I can’t offer you more. It just isn’t possible. I wish I could.”
“Does it have something to do with your being Antian?”
His brows rose. “Perhaps a little. But don’t start your guessing games now.”
“Does it have something to do with me?”
He turned away, his expression shuttered. “It’s complicated.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I know how badly you react to shocks. You might slip away, and I’ll never get you back.”
Rayne pushed past him and escaped out of the door.
Tarke swung away as the portal slid open. He had forgotten to lock it, he realised, and that was how she had been able to enter without him knowing. The door scanner was programmed to allow only two people instant access, her and Vi
dan. His apartment was deep within the command wing of the main building, and unobtrusive security measures all along the corridors that led to it ensured no one without top security access would be outside. Nevertheless, his reaction to the open door was instinctive, born of decades of hiding his identity. He stared at the door after it closed behind her, trapped by his lack of a mask and shirt, and wondered if he should go after her or leave her alone for a while. A pang of sorrow went through him as he recalled Vidan’s warning. Shortly after she had arrived at the base, he had asked the Atlantean to conduct some discreet tests, worried by the dazed spells she sometimes had.
The results had been disturbing. According to the medical scanner Vidan had fitted in her room, she had a dangerous psychological condition, an imbalance in her brain’s electrical structure. The only explanation was that her brain was badly scarred, and the matrix of her mind had shifted. The experts Vidan had consulted had told him that a shock could trigger the condition.
The Envoy’s scars went deep, and she teetered on the brink of an abyss that could swallow her reason and put her into a permanent coma. That prospect terrified him. The thought of losing her made him shake with unfocussed anger and dread. The mere sight of his scars had been enough to send her into a blank spell; learning the truth about him and ending her dreams of a proper marriage might prove too much.
For the same reason, he could never tell her how he felt, or allow her to get too close to him. Her touch made him shudder, but how could he ever explain why? How could he tell her that no one had touched his skin for over fifty years, until she had so briefly held his hand? She would never understand how uncomfortable that had made him, even though it had not been as bad as it should have. Since she had come to the base, her attempts to hold his hand had discomfited him on several occasions. She had no idea of the depravities he had suffered, and he did not think she would be able to deal with it. He cursed and headed for the bathroom to take the shower he had been planning.
When Rayne did not join him for dinner, he went to her apartment. Finding it empty, he headed for the station’s command centre, using his cyber implant to send a query ahead to Vidan. The Atlantean was clearly surprised that Tarke contacted him via the base’s cyber-linked communications system, since he rarely used it. He replied that Rayne had left the base two hours before to visit her brother on Darmon, and she had told him Tarke knew about it.
“She lied,” Tarke said as he entered the command centre. “She didn’t tell me anything.”
Vidan regarded him with deep alarm. “What’s happened?”
“She’s upset. She asked a bunch of questions I couldn’t answer.”
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”
“One more shock could push her over the edge. You said it.” Tarke loomed over the short man.
“That’s true, but this might be worse. She might not find the truth all that bad, you know.”
“What escort does she have?”
“She didn’t want one. I told her she had no choice and assigned two cruisers, but she didn’t wait for them.”
Tarke thumped a console, making the holograms flicker. “Damn it!”
“Darmon should be safe. The Atlanteans don’t own it.”
“No, the damned Yasmarians do, and they’re Atlan’s allies. If Tallyn’s got any brains at all, he’ll have set a trap at her brother’s house, won’t he?”
Vidan looked aghast. “You really think they’d do that?”
“You tell me; they’re your people. How low would they stoop to capture me, huh? To put an end to what they think is the biggest slaver empire in the galaxy.”
“Pretty low,” Vidan muttered. “But the Golden Child? They wouldn’t dare.”
“Maybe they would, if they thought they could keep it quiet. What the public don’t know, they won’t complain about. By the time they release her they’ll be celebrating my capture, won’t they?”
Vidan groaned. “Why didn’t you just tell her the truth?”
“She’s not ready for it. She may never be. I won’t risk it.”
“You haven’t even told her how you feel.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Tarke demanded.
“She told me. She asked me why you married her.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told her to ask you.”
Tarke cursed. “That’s only made the situation worse. Now she thinks we’re all in on the conspiracy, ganging up on her because she’s an empath.”
“Why would she think that?”
“Because she is an empath! You want paranoia by the ship load? Find an empath who’s been around a lot of people, and you’ll find enough paranoia to infect the populations of ten planets.”
“What will you do?” Vidan asked.
“I’m going after her, of course.”
“Do you think you should? I mean, perhaps she just needs a bit of company. It’s not like you spend much time with her, so you’ve got to let her do her own thing once in a while.”
“Are you implying that I’m being overprotective?”
Vidan sighed. “I won’t pretend to be able to imagine what goes on in that weird head of yours, Tarke, but you can’t wrap the girl in cotton wool; you’ll smother her. She’s safe with the cruisers. Those guys know what’s at stake.” He held up a finger. “Not that I think you’re telling the truth, mind you. I think you’re making a mistake, but then, maybe you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. But you can’t keep setting off false alarms on the base when you need an excuse to get away from her, either. It’s not fair to the workers, or her.”
“I should have glued your lips together a long time ago.”
“Then you’ll stay here?”
“No, I’m going to follow her,” Tarke said. “She won’t know I’m there.”
“I’ll find an escort.”
“They won’t be able to keep up.”
“Tarke...”
He waved a hand. “I’ll be careful.”
Chapter Two
Rayne ran into Rawn’s arms as soon as the energy shell dispersed. He lifted her off her feet and swung her around, chuckling. They stood in the lounge of his modest house on Darmon, whose somewhat drab décor of brown and white seemed cheap and tasteless compared to the elegant opulence of the Shrike’s base. Rawn’s petite, doe-eyed Mansurian wife watched them with a smile. Like most Mansurians, she was an Atlantean crossbreed, and claimed that her other half was human. She certainly looked human. Her skin possessed only a slight metallic sheen and her hair was almost monotone brown. As before, she met Rayne with ill-concealed hostility, most of which came from jealousy. Her false smile grated on Rayne’s nerves, but she ignored her senses and returned it with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.
Rawn radiated joy and worry, sending his wife hard glances to ensure she behaved. Norva went to fetch refreshments, and Rayne sat on a comfortable chair. Rawn settled opposite and beamed at her, and she found his familiar, warm presence and soft tawny eyes a balm to her wounded ego after her disastrous confrontation with Tarke. Unfortunately, once the banalities were out of the way, he was the first subject Rawn brought up.
“So, not only are you a celebrity now, but the wife of the most notorious slaver in the galaxy.” Rawn’s cheerful smile belied his true feelings of disappointment, and his remark was only half teasing.
“He’s not a slaver. He’s a kind, gentle man.”
“And you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Does he love you?”
“Of course,” she lied. “Why else would he ask me to marry him?”
“Maybe you’re another prize to add to his collection.”
“In what way?”
He spread his hands. “Well, you’re the Golden Child.”
“He doesn’t collect things.”
“Does he even have a face?”
“Of course.” She flushed when he raised his brows.
“So you’ve seen it?”
“Some people say he’s a monster, and that’s why he wears the mask. Is he?” When she bit her lip, he grinned. “Come on Ray, you can tell me. I’m not an Atlantean spy, you know. You must have seen his face. How could he hide it from his wife?”
His derision spurred her, and she lifted her chin. “Yes, I’ve seen it, and he’s not a monster.”
“And he lets you wander about with that memory in your head? Very dangerous, I’d have thought.”
“I have protection.” She frowned. “Why are you so curious about him?”
“Well, he’s my brother-in-law now. And I haven’t even met him, nor am I likely to, am I?”
“Do you want to?”
He smiled. “Maybe.”
Norva entered with a tray of finger food and drinks, depositing it on the low table with a smile. “Dig in, chaps.”
Rawn reached for a smoked Atrasian eggroll. He had gained more weight, Rayne noticed, and his stomach bulged over his belt.
“Married life agrees with you, I see,” she remarked.
He patted his paunch. “After years of near starvation, I’m enjoying the fruits of your fame, sis.”
“The Atlanteans are supporting you?”
“Of course. I’m your brother. When you disappeared, they allowed me access to your accounts. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No.” She sighed.
Rayne longed to tell him about her problem, but it was impossible with Norva hanging on every word. She did not expect him to have a solution, but just telling him would have helped. Still, she found his company and light-hearted banter relaxing, and laughed at his jokes. Even Norva’s subdued disapproval could not dampen her enjoyment. They all jumped when an energy shell materialised in a blaze of light. Five black-clad men bowed to Rayne and moved into the corners to take up defensive positions.
“So, your protection has arrived,” Rawn drawled, eyeing them. “Why do you need so many guards in your brother’s house? What does he think I’m going to do?”
Slave Empire III - The Shrike Page 3
