“You told them we agreed to come unarmed, didn’t you?” Ash asked.
Tersa peered out the window beside the exit. “Yes.”
“Javerians don’t like anomalies,” Rykus said.
Ash looked at him. “You’re Javerian.”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. That wasn’t a gesture she saw often from him, and the casualness of it caused a spark to sizzle in her chest. It flared hotter when their gazes met. She almost forgot about the prime’s presence and the fact that his father waited for them outside.
Rykus cleared his throat. Quickly he moved to the door and unlocked it.
Ash followed her fail-safe and the prime off the shuttle. Tersa’s shoes scuffed across the cement as she attempted to adjust to the heavier gravity, and Ash almost stumbled too. It wasn’t the subtle difference in the atmospheric pull that unbalanced her. It was the air. It smelled like Rykus. Or rather, this was what Rykus smelled like. It was a clean, cool scent with a touch of exotic oak to it. The smell didn’t stay in her lungs; it invaded her entire body.
Rykus’s steps were easy and confident. Ash made hers smooth and deliberate. She needed to focus, to take notice of her surroundings and the threats present. The armed Javerian delegation wasn’t the only point of security in the spaceport. Heavy-caliber guns were embedded in two-meter-high turrets that were evenly distributed around the landing site. Tall guard towers were spaced farther apart. Ash wore a uniform, no body armor. She was pretty much dead if things turned ugly unless she was quick enough to take a hostage.
Her gaze rested on the man in the center of the delegation: General Markin Rykus. Her Rykus looked strikingly similar to the man. They had the same dark eyes, the same intimidating scowl, the same broad shoulders. They even held themselves with the same self-assured confidence. There was no mistaking that they were father and son.
“Thank you for meeting with us, General,” Tersa said. “We didn’t schedule this visit in advance, but I think you’ll understand why after I share our information with you.”
“Rhys,” the elder Rykus said. “You look well.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Will the First Citizen and First Prefect be available today?” Tersa asked, ignoring the very obvious tension between the two men. Ash wanted so badly to point out the chill in the air, maybe make a subtle quip about ideas for warming things up. Rykus—her Rykus—would know exactly what she alluded to. She wanted to know if the general would as well, and if the small, inappropriate suggestion would irritate him as much as it might irritate Rip.
But she was practicing being civil. And she needed to keep her thoughts from going there as much as possible.
“You will have thirty minutes with them this evening,” the general said.
“Thirty minutes?”
“It’s the same amount of time given to the Sariceans.” His gaze shifted to Ash, and he demanded, “Your name.”
“This is Lieutenant Ramie Ashdyn of Glory,” Tersa answered for her. “She risked her life for the information I would like to share with you.”
“Glory.” Disdain dripped from the word.
“Yeah. The shit hole.” Ash made a show of glancing around at the weapon-topped turrets. “This place is just a touch more welcoming.”
Tersa grimaced.
Ash’s fail-safe coughed.
She glanced his way. “That wasn’t civil, was it?”
Was he trying to hide a smile behind his fist?
General Rykus remained focused on her when he motioned to one of his men. “You’ll wear restraints while you’re here.”
Ash kept her posture relaxed, but her fail-safe didn’t. His eyes locked onto his father.
“The hell she will,” he said. “You invited us here. We came unarmed as you requested.”
“She wears restraints or she leaves.”
The general’s man reached for her wrist.
Ash unhurriedly widened her stance. “Touch me and I’ll kill you.”
“Lieutenant!” Tersa snapped.
“Oh, right. Sorry. Touch me and I’ll seriously maim you.” Anticipation jetted through her bloodstream. She all but bounced on her toes, wanting him to make a move. The Javerians wouldn’t open fire on a diplomatic delegation without an order, and Ash could disable both the soldier in front of her and Rip’s father in seconds.
Tersa turned to General Rykus. “I’m sure we can work something out. I understand Javery’s concern about anomalies, but Ashdyn is loyalty trained. She won’t snap.”
“I don’t share the same confidence in your brainwashing.” He motioned to his man again.
Rykus stepped between her and the Javerian. To his father, he said, “We’re leaving. Tell Mom and Taya I said hello.”
Pivoting, he put a hand on Ash’s shoulder and turned her toward the shuttle.
“Commander.” Tersa hurried to cut off their path. “Ash. Please. You know how important this is.”
Ash stopped.
“She’s not staying.” Rykus gripped her arm.
Ash didn’t move when he pulled. She gritted her teeth and breathed. The loyalty training felt like a physical thing, a gale-force wind pushing her in the direction her fail-safe wanted. Her mind rebelled at the thought of being in restraints again—she’d spent far too long in them on the Obsidian—but Tersa had a point. If Javery joined the Coalition, it would strengthen the government.
And Rip wanted her to leave. That meant she needed to stay. She needed to prove she was strong enough to resist doing what he wanted.
She gave Tersa a look that said the prime would owe her big for this. Tersa nodded.
With a dramatic sigh, Ash turned back toward the Javerians. “I’ll wear the restraints.”
“No.” Rykus didn’t let go of her arm.
Ash met his gaze, made her voice steady and strong. “It’s my choice.”
“Your choice or the loyalty training’s?” he demanded. He moved closer and lowered his voice to a deep rumble. “I know how far you’ll go to protect and preserve the Coalition.”
“It’s mine. So back off, Rip.”
He didn’t immediately release her arm. His eyes held rage. Even though it was directed more at his father than at her, it took a hell of a lot of willpower to stand there without backing down.
Maybe he saw her struggle. Suddenly he released her arm and stepped away. He was still tense, still on the edge of an explosion, but she was free.
She faced the Javerian soldier, held out her wrists, and allowed him to approach.
“Your comm-cuff,” he said.
She pulled her hands back before he could touch her.
“It’s procedure,” he explained.
“You can shove your procedure—”
“General,” Tersa said quickly. “She has a temporary visa, and she’s not under arrest or detainment. She won’t easily be able to use the cuff with her hands restrained. Let’s not make this an issue.”
The general studied her. Ash tried to look relaxed and unconcerned, but there was no way in hell she was handing over her cuff.
General Rykus finally nodded to his man. Ash loosened her cuff a notch so it slid further up her arm, then held out her hands for the guard to fasten the restraints.
The Javerians broke into two lines, three on each side, and escorted them to the waiting land skimmers. The four identical sleek, silver transports connected to each other at helm and stern. The general led the way into the front skimmer then past the plush lounge chairs, shiny round data-tables, and fully equipped beverage bar.
“We’ll take this one,” he said. The front and back doors were closed, and a hum and clanking signaled the skimmers were being decoupled.
“Normal security?” Ash asked. “Or are you worried Javerians will discover the Coalition’s minister prime is here?”
The general speared her with a glare cold enough to rival the chill of space. Apparently, being both an anomaly and a Glory dreg made her unworthy of being spoken to.
�
�How’s Darek?” Rip asked. His words drew his father’s attention away from her.
“Good,” the general said. “He’s well respected in the assembly.”
“He’s entered politics?” Tersa asked.
A soft rumble ran through the floor—the compensator kicking in. Aside from that almost unnoticeable vibration, the only sign that they were accelerating was the window view of the spaceport falling away below them. Ash stepped closer as the skimmer joined the low-atmo traffic. The clear air, the artfully melded twists of green nature and white infrastructure, all the landscaping had a strong, orderly feel to it. Just like her fail-safe. This planet had made him.
“Sit.” The order came from behind her, and a reflection moved across the window: one of the Javerian soldiers. He had put away his rifle and now held a Maven 660 pistol ready at his side.
Ash turned. “I know I’m scary, but this is overkill, don’t you think?”
“Sit,” he said again.
Make me. The words fought to the tip of her tongue, warring with her attempt to be civil.
She looked past the soldier. Tersa and General Rykus were talking, but Rip was watching her. Probably worried about what she would do. He started to say something but thought better of it. He moved to a chair halfway between her and the prime, and he sat.
Ash almost smiled. He was learning. If he’d told her to follow the soldier’s order, she would undoubtedly have done the opposite.
There was an empty seat beside him, so with the Javerian’s pistol tracking her the whole way, she sauntered over and made herself comfortable.
“I really want to take it out of his hand,” she said.
“I know.” He looked at the soldier, who took up position across from her. “Anomalies were responsible for three large massacres over the past fifty years. Ten years ago, the triumvirate banned them from the planet. Javery hasn’t had another mass killing since, not even one that wasn’t caused by an anomaly.”
“We’re not that unstable.”
“Most of you aren’t, and there are usually signs before you snap. I think the last one lost it because of the growing hatred toward them.”
“Hmmm.”
His jaw clenched and slowly, reluctantly, his eyes rested on her. “What?”
She peered at him under her lashes. “Your dad’s coming.” The general had just ended his conversation with Tersa. He looked at his son with obvious disapproval and at her with even more obvious contempt. “And now it makes perfect sense why you decided to become an instructor of Caruth.” She leaned toward him, lowered her voice. “If you really want to piss him off, I know a way.”
Rip’s gaze dropped to her mouth. The air in the skimmer heated. She saw the want in his eyes, noted how his fingers curled slightly, but he didn’t act on what she offered. His jaw clenched, and he faced forward in his seat, ending their interaction.
Ash let a small smile play on her lips. Rip was barely clinging to his self-control. That was fine. If he wanted to be difficult about this, she’d cling to her flirtations, and they would see who came out on top.
12
“Rhys!” a woman called out as soon as they exited the skimmer.
Rip’s full, unhindered grin blindsided Ash. Her steps slowed, then stopped when a tall, beaming brunette jogged down the white steps of the family home, then threw her arms around Rip’s shoulders. Taya. His sister. They were close in age and had the same almost-black hair, brown eyes, and sharp nose. Taya was almost as tall as he was, and her fitted blue pants and white top revealed a slenderly muscled physique.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Taya said.
“I didn’t either.” He ended the hug, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “Taya, you look great. Any men I need to kill off?”
She rolled her eyes. “All I have to do is tell them my family name, and they go running.” She gave him a conspiratorial look. “So I don’t tell them my family name.”
“Taya.” His tone carried the gentle scold of a protector.
This was… weird, her fail-safe being normal. Not hard. Not demanding. Just acting like a brother. Ash had no experience with relationships like this. She had accomplices on Glory, colleagues and acquaintances she trusted as much as she could, but every conversation and greeting on her home world came with the knowledge that, if things turned the wrong direction, those so-called friends had every right to throw her to the bosses. This automatic, unconditional trust was more foreign than any world she’d ever stepped on.
Taya lightly knocked Rip’s hands from her shoulders. “Be careful, don’t get hurt, watch my six. I know, I know. I’m good. But what about you? I heard you were…” She faded off when her gaze found Ash. “I heard you were bringing home a girl, but I didn’t know you had to put them in restraints these days.”
Rip’s smile vanished. “It’s not like that.” The easy, lighthearted tone left too. Ash missed it. She needed to hear the gentle rises and falls in inflection, the tenderness in the sound, to better understand it.
Taya stepped around her brother and approached. Ash stood her ground, outwardly relaxed even though it was suddenly very obvious she didn’t belong on this world. She didn’t belong anywhere in Rip’s universe.
The guard beside Ash held up a hand to stop Taya’s approach. “She’s dangerous, ma’am.”
Taya scanned her head to toe, then lifted an eyebrow as if to ask, “What could you possibly have done?”
“I’m an anomaly,” Ash explained.
Taya still managed to look refined and pretty when her eyes widened. She glanced at her father then at Rykus then back to Ash. Finally she laughed.
“Seriously, Rhys?” She shook her head, still chuckling. “You really know how to piss Dad off.”
“I’m not… She’s not… Never mind.”
Ash smiled. “I’ve never heard him stumble over words before.”
“Neither have I.” Taya’s hands went to her hips, and she surveyed Ash again, this time more thoughtfully. “You aren’t going to snap, are you?”
“I’m not supposed to.”
Taya must have expected a simple no—the response most anomalies would have given. Her eyes widened again.
“You’re loyalty trained? I didn’t think they trained women on Car— Wait.” She looked at Rip. “You’re her fail-safe. Shit.” She looked back at Ash. “Shit.”
Rip’s expression hardened. He turned away from Ash and Taya, focusing instead on Tersa and the general.
Ash’s smile slipped. He valued his sister’s opinion, and his sister had just been shocked to learn he would sleep with a woman loyalty trained to follow his orders.
Ash started to cross her arms, then remembered the restraints and who she was. She never cared if she made a good impression. She wouldn’t care now no matter what the loyalty training encouraged. She was who she was, and anyone who didn’t like it or her choices could go for an untethered space walk.
“Hey, Dad,” Taya called. “Tell Jinston to take the restraints off.”
“I already tried that,” Rykus said, still focused on the prime and his dad.
General Rykus speared Taya with a not-quite-intimidating glare. “No.”
To the east, storm clouds rumbled.
“How do you expect her to eat dinner with us?” Taya asked.
“She’s not.”
“Mom set a place for her.”
“She can unset it.”
“Oh yeah?” Taya’s hands moved back to her hips. “I’ll just go tell her that then.”
The softness in the general’s eyes ruined his attempt at a scowl.
Ash leaned toward Rykus. “Does your little sister always get what she wants?”
“Yes,” he said.
The general broke.
“Take them off,” he said in Javerian, “but shadow her. She goes nowhere without an armed escort.”
Jinston kept his eyes on Ash’s when he grabbed the restraints, jerking them toward him to press his thumb against the print-l
ock. Ash gave him her best innocent look. For some reason, that made him shove her hands roughly away.
General Rykus and Tersa led the way inside the residence. Ash had never lived in a private home. She’d found little holes to hide away in when she was young, but most of her time on Glory was spent in communal living with zero privacy. Even after she left, she’d shared her living space with the anomalies on Caruth and then with her teammates or other soldiers in planet-based barracks or ship’s quarters. To her, the Rykus residence felt open and clean and foreign. Small, carefully trimmed trees grew in bright, colored pots, floating and slowly spinning in alcoves set into the walls. The decorative plants and soft shades of the furniture they passed made the home feel warm and welcoming. The aesthetics almost completely hid the extreme security measures protecting the place.
But Ash noticed them. The large arched windows were rimmed with T80 Extruder Panes, artfully blended sheets of bulletproof metal that could deploy over the glass at the touch of a button. Multiple cameras were well concealed in the light fixtures and decorative alcoves, and when she walked past an opening into another room, she noted the guard standing sentry. Ash sketched a mental map as they moved through a large gathering area made cozy with plush couches and lounge settees. She suspected there were pathways between the walls. It was difficult to tell for sure since the residence had curves everywhere. Curved walls that curved into entryways that curved into hallways and other nooks. It all felt rather serene. It was hard to picture Rykus growing up here.
For that matter, it was hard to picture the general living here. But perhaps the woman entering the far end of the hall explained the decor. In a white bodysuit draped with almost transparent violet and blue cloth, she was soft and flowy where the two men were rigid and measured.
But then Rip completely relaxed and he smiled. “Mom.”
The woman’s face lit up when she saw Rip. She rushed forward and threw her arms around his shoulders. She was shorter than him—petite—and he looked like he was trying to be careful not to break her.
He gently pushed her away. “Hey, don’t cry.”
“I’m not.” She wiped tears off her cheeks. “I’m just happy. You’re home. Taya’s home. And Darek broke away from the capitol long enough to stay for dinner. He’s going to be glad to see you.”
Shades of Honor (An Anomaly Novel Book 2) Page 12
