TALON (RIBUS 7 Book 4)

by Shae Mills

  Her eyes skated back to the men, and then it happened: one shrouded body fell, the languid form rolling to its back in a mire of blood.

  Chelan clutched at her chest and tried to process what she had just witnessed. Her head throbbed, and she felt ill. Then she jumped as the main doors parted. She shook violently as six shrouds strode in and halted before the grisly scene. No one moved.

  Chelan’s hands trembled so badly, they ceased to function. Her knuckles were devoid of all color. Then she winced as the survivor turned to face her. Time trickled by with agonizing slowness. She felt as though she were shutting down, the man’s next move too frightening to contemplate. Who was down, who was still standing, and was her death to be meted out next?

  She could only await her fate like a caged animal. Her end, or her salvation, was in the hands of the victor, his identity still as elusive as the oxygen in the room. Then she shivered as he dropped his weapons, the metal hitting the floor with a resounding clatter.

  Chelan attempted to speak, but her voice was gone. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Then she tried again. “Talon?” she called in a strained whisper.

  Her hands clutched at the red-stained fabric of her dress. Her bloodshot eyes flickered over the fallen body and then back to the victor. “Talon?” she croaked, but there was only silence.

  Chelan’s stomach churned, and she nearly choked on the bile that rose in her throat. She hunched forward and caught her breath, steadying herself as best she could. She felt like she was about to pass out, but she needed to keep her wits. Whatever was happening was not over yet.

  She straightened and scanned all the figures before her. Then she picked her way carefully along the slippery floor to the fallen figure, her eyes never leaving the victor. She crouched down, and when her fingers finally touched the man’s body, only then did she dare to look at him.

  With fear infusing her soul like nothing she had ever experienced, she reached for his hood. “TALON!” she cried, her voice piercing the Palace walls. Chelan grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him once. “Talon!”

  His eyes flickered open, and Chelan sucked in her wind. The blue flame that had always burned in them was dimming. Her heart stopped.

  “Little one,” he whispered.

  Chelan’s tears gushed. “Oh god, what has happened?”

  He raised a weak finger to his lips. “Shhh, sweet lady. All is fine.”

  “Fine?” she cried. “Oh god, this is not fine!” And her hands coursed frantically over his tattered shroud. “Who did this to you? Who did this?” she demanded.

  Talon shook his head slowly. “You will see, my Lady. But no matter. It is done.”

  Chelan scrambled closer to him. “What is done?”

  “The Empire… My Empire is no more.”

  Chelan became very still. “Don’t speak like this. I will get help. You will see!”

  Talon’s lip twitched. “No, my Lady. It has fallen fairly.”

  Chelan was frantic. Then she froze as his face contorted with pain. “Nooo!” she wailed. “You need help!” She tore open his shroud, reached for his jacket, and opened it. The wave of blood that spilled from the confines of his uniform caused her to lurch backward. Taming her fear in a microsecond, she set to work. She clutched frantically at his torn flesh, trying to cover the multitude of wounds with her small hands. “I need to stop the bleeding.” With all her strength, she pulled his shroud about him tightly. “You will be okay. I will get a doctor.” And she tried to stand, but his hand gripped her gown, holding her fast.

  “No, little one. There is no help.”

  “No help? Of course, there is help!” She stared up at the six inert shrouds. “Please,” she begged them. But they did not move. She looked back down at Talon. “Please…” she whispered.

  “Shhh, pretty one. They will not help.”

  Chelan pressed her hands over his torn chest. “Tell me what to do,” she whimpered. “Tell me what to do…”

  “Just stay by my side, sweet woman.”

  Chelan cleared her hair back from her face with blood-soaked hands. Then she shook her head frantically. “No, the bleeding, it has to stop.” And she lay over his chest, trying with all her might to close off the flow of fluid. As she pressed upon him, she felt his arms surround her, and her eyes flooded once again.

  Soon her entire body was moist with slippery warmth, and she knew she was failing in her bid to stem the ebb of his life force. His once powerful heartbeat was now slow and unsteady, and her own heart began to break. “Oh my god, Talon… Stay with me… Please stay with me…”

  Finally, she shuffled to her knees, her fingers brushing his long, blue-black hair from his face. “Tell me what to do.”

  Talon swallowed with difficulty. “Live on, little one. Rise to the top, where you belong.”

  Chelan’s chin quivered so violently, she could hardly speak. “I belong with you. We have accomplished so much. And we have so much to look forward to. And you promised me you would never leave me.”

  Talon closed his eyes and smiled. “I remained true to my word. All along I knew our separation would only come through death itself.”

  Chelan clutched at his face. “Nooo…” she ground out through clenched teeth. “No…”

  His eyes opened to hers. Then he stiffened and groaned. Chelan jumped, her eyes widening with terror. “The pain! Oh my god, tell me how to stop the pain!”

  Talon shook his head. “It is okay, little one. We shared a lifetime this past year. The pain is nothing.”

  “No! I want it to stop. I don’t want it to end this way. It can’t end this way.”

  Talon looked at her and then raised a finger to her lips. “Then let me go, little one. Release me from this world.”

  Chelan became as still as stone. “What do you mean?”

  “Let me pass on, Chelan. Set me free.”

  Chelan pressed close to him. “How?”

  “The last year with you was heaven. And for me, this last day with you, my love, was as if I were in your world’s Eden. But through it all, I have never heard three little words so sweet from your lips, the words I have always longed to hear. Those words will complete my life. They will take away the pain and set me free.”

  Chelan’s throat constricted with insurmountable grief. She gathered his hands in hers and then looked down into his graying eyes. Her mind raced, her emotions entangled in misery. Then she quieted. “I love you, Talon.” She sniffed back her tears and calmed her trembling. “From my heart to you, on this day of our shared bond, I love you.” And she swallowed the sob that had lodged in her throat.

  “Ah, my sweet woman,” he soothed. “You have just completed my life and taken away my pain.”

  Chelan hugged his hands to her breasts, witnessing a small spark return to his eyes. He smiled. “You have delivered me into peace.” His voice became but a faint whisper. “The genuine love you have shown me on this, our final day together, will sustain me an eternity.” And his eyes closed one last time.

  Chelan watched his head loll to the side. She became inert, momentarily paralyzed by the full force of her grief, coupled inextricably with stunned disbelief. Then she collapsed down upon him.

  *****

  Time ceased to exist. Eventually, from the murky depths of her suffering, she heard a commotion. She looked up and watched as the shrouded men surrounded the faltering victor and aided him to a chair. Then, through weary eyes, she tensed as one of the shrouds approached her. He squatted down across from her and drew back his hood.

  Chelan felt all the air leave her lungs in a whoosh, her pain replaced by rage. In a flash, she grabbed one of Talon’s knives and lunged at Lethiason. The blade sliced into his neck before he could react. “You treacherous bastard!” she shrieked.

  Lethiason fell to the floor with her, wrestling the knife away before pinning her to him. He tossed the blade away and then clutched at his neck with his free hand. “Chelan! Please. All is not what it seems!”

  C
helan twisted violently in his arms, and he was forced to release her. She sprawled onto her back and kicked at him with all the strength that only unbridled fury could give her. “I will kill you!” she raged.

  But then a motion caught her eye, and she wavered as two shrouds approached Talon. “Leave him!” she yelled, and she leapt away from Lethiason and dove for Talon. She covered his body protectively and glared at the men.

  Lethiason winced at the pain in his throat and waved the men off. He rose to his feet and then crouched back down beside her. “My lady,” he whispered softly. “No one will touch his body. You have my word.”

  “Your word,” she spat. “I want your head on a spit!”

  Lethiason looked down. “Not all is as it seems, my Lady,” he whispered once again.

  Chelan’s eyes flared. “Talon is dead. The Empire…” She tried to get her breath. “The Empire, his, is no more. That is what it seems!”

  “I know, my Lady… I—”

  “Get out!” she ordered. “Get out, and take all your henchmen with you!”

  He waited for a moment, the look in her eyes impaling him like a poisoned dagger. Then he spoke again. “We will leave. The Command Center is yours. You have it to yourself. It is sealed. You may stay here as long as you wish. No one will disturb you or touch him.”

  Chelan could only pant for air as she watched him rise. Through clouded vision, she watched as two men helped the victor to his feet, and all seven shrouds left. Then everything was silent, so deathly silent.

  Chapter 24

  Chelan drifted in and out of uneasy sleep for many hours, her hands gripping Talon’s torn shroud, her cheek pressed hard to his bloodied chest. As the afternoon light faded, she finally awoke and squinted against the twilight. She closed her eyes momentarily, wishing with every fiber of her soul that his soothing heartbeat would return, but it was not to be.

  Chelan blinked several times as the Command Center lights rose slowly. She craned her stiff neck toward the doors, and her breathing stopped. Braedon approached her slowly and squatted down beside Talon’s fallen body. Chelan swallowed hard, her voice hoarse. “What has happened?”

  Braedon nodded to her. “Come with me, pretty woman. Let me help you get cleaned up.”

  Chelan tried to rise, but her long hair had hardened in Talon’s blood. It held her solidly. Braedon gently began the task of releasing her, trying as best he could not to tear her strands. Chelan watched him as he worked. He wore soft buckskin pants, his feet clad in his knee-high, moccasin-like boots. His upper body was bare, his long, jet-black hair cascading over his shoulders. “Why are you here?” she muttered.

  Braedon’s black eyes looked at her with warmth. “To help you.”

  Chelan was finally able to sit up straight. She looked down at her blood-caked arms and held them out away from her body. “How did you hear?”

  Braedon moved to her side and helped her to her feet. “The galaxy has heard, my Lady.”

  Chelan’s world spun, and she tried to steady herself. Braedon ushered her slowly into her chambers and to the en suite. There she turned and looked at herself in the mirror. She raised her red hands to her blood-streaked face and touched her cheeks. The form she saw before her was nearly unrecognizable.

  Braedon studied her, his heart going out to her, but he remained silent.

  Finally, Chelan looked at him. “Give me your knife.”

  Braedon’s eyes narrowed. “I do not wish you to harm yourself.”

  Chelan shook her head slowly. “I won’t. Please, just give me the knife.”

  Braedon was chary, his body coiled for action. Slowly, he passed her his blade.

  Chelan took it and faced the mirror. Then, with a deep breath and a fairly steady hand, she began sawing at her matted hair, large clumps of it thudding to the floor.

  Braedon looked away. He knew the years it would have taken to grow such a lustrous, long mane, but he understood her grief.

  When she was done, she gently set his knife on the counter. Then she knelt down and began gathering all her hair together. Clutching it to her, she stood and walked away.

  Braedon followed her out into the Command Center. From the doors, he watched as she sank beside the fallen man and remained very still for a long time. Carefully, she closed his jacket and placed her hair reverently upon his chest. Then, with affection, she kissed him once, closed his shroud, and pulled his hood over his tranquil face.

  Braedon saw her body quiver. He did not know if she wept or if she was cold, but it did not matter. He moved to her side and gently pulled her to him. After a time, he looked down into her bloodshot eyes. “Come with me, please.”

  Chelan blinked back into reality, and she squinted up into his dark eyes. “Where?” she whispered.

  Braedon’s finger touched her red cheek. “For now, let’s just get washed up.”

  Chelan shook her head. “I shouldn’t leave him.”

  “No one will touch him, my Lady.”

  Chelan finally nodded.

  Braedon scooped her up into his arms and walked into the en suite. There he stood her on her feet before him. Robotically, she began peeling off her gown. It pulled unmercifully at her white flesh, the clotted blood no less adherent than glue. When she had finally torn it from her body, she let it fall to the floor.

  He watched her closely as he stripped himself, but she never even glanced at him. Then, tenderly, he took her by the hand and descended into the spa with her. He set her in his lap, where she lay limply, her head on his chest, her eyes staring off into oblivion.

  Braedon trickled the water over her face and neck, slowly and gently soaking away the remnants of Talon’s life. Then he tended to her tattered hair. When he was finished, he leaned back and held her tight. Night was upon them.

  *****

  Chelan awoke to the early morning dawn, her body cocooned in a large, white towel. She lay upon her bed, the bed she had shared with Talon only one short day ago. She looked down and saw the strong hand that held her tight.

  In response to her stirring, Braedon sat up and rolled her to her back. His fingers removed her hair from her drawn face. “You have to at least drink, my Lady.”

  “I want to go back to the caverns with you.”

  Braedon forced a smile. “Okay. But first you must drink and then eat.”

  Chelan shook her head wearily. “Not now.” And she closed her eyes.

  Braedon hung his head. Then, pushing himself up heavily from the bed, he ran his fingers through his coarse hair. He stretched his weary body and watched as the doors to the chambers opened.

  Lethiason approached them slowly. He looked at the ashen beauty, her inert body as still as death itself. “Has she eaten?”

  Braedon shook his head. “She needs time.”

  Lethiason frowned. “How she will recover from this, I have no idea.”

  “The timing of the battle could not have been worse.”

  Lethiason stared at her a while longer and then placed his hand on Braedon’s shoulder. “Take care of her,” he whispered.

  Braedon watched him go, and then he returned to the bed. Softly, he lay down beside her, enclosing her with the warmth of his body.

  *****

  Chelan awoke in the late afternoon. This time, Braedon decided he was going to be a little more assertive. “Come on, Chelan. You have to at least drink. You are dehydrating.” And he pulled her into a sitting position.

  Chelan groaned. “I am not thirsty. I just want to sleep.”

  Braedon moved to his knees in front of her. “Look. Talon would not have wanted you to waste away. You must drink.”

  Chelan’s eyes finally opened fully, and she accepted the glass he held. She took several sips, but her stomach rebelled, and she hunched over.

  Braedon steadied her by the shoulders. “Take it easy… Keep it down.”

  Chelan nodded and swallowed hard.

  “Will you try some food?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

>   “Trust me. It will do you a world of good.”

  Chelan rubbed at her stomach. “I couldn’t keep it down.”

  Braedon handed her a small, wafer-like morsel. “Try it.”

  Chelan finally reached for it with a shaky hand. Then she looked up into his hopeful eyes. But she did not eat. “Will you take me back with you?”

  Braedon smiled. “You know I will, but you must be strong first.” And he pointed to the food.

  Chelan eyed it suspiciously, and Braedon’s smile increased. “You must trust this Southerner, hey?”

  Chelan raised the bread to her pale lips. “I trust this Southern man.” And she finally took a bite.

  Braedon breathed a sigh of relief and then sat back. “It is good to see you again.”

  Chelan managed a tiny nod.

  He continued to watch her, and then he reached for her frayed hair, its torn ends stopping just above her pretty breasts.

  Chelan looked down and stopped chewing. “Looks like I didn’t do a very good job.”

  Braedon smiled. “Will you let me have a go at it?”

  Chelan simply nodded.

  Braedon moved in behind her and surrounded her with his thighs. Then he drew her hair back over her shoulders and pulled out his knife. Slowly, he began the task of repairing the torn ends. When he was done, he ran his fingers through her hair, the silken mane perfectly feathered, its ends just brushing the tops of her shoulders. Then he turned her to him and gathered her into his arms. “It is going to be okay,” he assured her.

  *****

  The night came and went, and on the second morning since Talon’s death, Braedon began by coaxing her to eat. After only a few bites, she looked down at the towel and shuddered. “I am so cold,” she whispered.

  Braedon brought her her uniform, and she dressed quickly. Then he sat on the bed beside her. Chelan finished pulling on her gloves and looked up at him expectantly. “When can we go?”

  Braedon nodded. “Soon.”

  Chelan glanced away. “It would be best if we left now.”

  Just then the doors parted, and Lethiason stepped in. He took a deep and unsure breath, but he saw no animosity in her eyes. He bowed. “My Lady.”