“I wouldn’t doubt the woman has her sources in Tage’s offices as well as ours. She was brilliant, but cold and cutthroat. While you might think those are attributes Fleet would value, it kept her from rising farther in the ranks.”
But cold and cutthroat fit in very well with Blaine’s Justice Wardens.
Philip took a sip of his tea. I could see a slight slump to his shoulders, shadows under his eyes. It wasn’t hugely apparent, but I knew he’d been through a lot since he was ambushed by Tage’s people at the purported admirals’ meeting at Raft Thirty at the A-B. Plus, I’d been married to him for almost eight years. I could read him, no mind-link required.
“Unless there’s anything else hugely critical, I think you should go to your cabin, rest for a couple hours,” I said to him. “We can fill in the gaps later.” Though I was sure we all were rapidly seeing the picture. A power-hungry politician taking advantage of a weak and emotionally disturbed ruler, feeding the man’s fears, alienating him from anyone Tage deemed to be a threat to his own ambitions. Countering criticism—and questions—with claims of a vast conspiracy by whoever it was who opposed him at the moment. Gutting the military so no one would be there to stop him when he made his final move. Sadly, it was not something unique in human history.
Philip put his tea down, his expression suddenly more weary. I saw his gaze flick from Sully to Del then to me. He stood. “If you all don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Chasidah, privately.”
Marsh pushed away from the table. Then Philip raised one hand. “On second thought, Sullivan, you’d better stay.”
Slowly, Sully nodded. He was reading Philip. And not telling me.
Something cold plunged through me, not from Sully, not from Del. It was my own fear.
“You want something hot to eat later, Admiral Guthrie, you just let me know,” Dorsie said, following Marsh out to the bridge. Del was steps behind. He hit the palm pad for the door, leaving an oddly gentle touch of warmth in his wake.
“Philip?” I turned to him as the door closed, the tightness in my chest threatening to choke me.
He moved behind Sully’s chair then sat in the empty one on my right. I swiveled to face him. Sully’s hand rested on my shoulder, firmly, reassuringly. Warmth pulsed again. But the ice inside me didn’t budge.
Philip pulled my hands off the table and held them tightly in his own.
“I’m sorry, nugget. There’s no easy way to say this. Thad’s dead.”
I heard the words: Thad’s dead. I knew their meaning. I’d faced death before. I’d even been the cause of it. And I knew, deep in my heart, that once Tage got his claws into my brother, chances were very good that association could be fatal.
I just didn’t expect it now.
Tage had just tried to kill Philip. Why did he need my brother dead too?
I realized I was staring at Philip’s hands wrapped around mine. They were bruised, scraped, spotted with dried blood. But they were strong hands. Thick-fingered, not lean like Sully’s. They had old scars. They could hold the stem of the most delicate crystal wineglass with ease. They could also tear open a crate of ammo, load and fire a Val-9 Punisher hand-cannon in the time it took most people to exhale.
We’d done both, Philip and I.
I raised my face. “Are you sure?” My voice wavered.
He squeezed my hands and sighed softly, the lines between his brows deepening. “Suzanne, your stepmother, claimed his body. Lars is sedated. She said they’ll pull through, somehow.”
“But you said Lars told him to cooperate. He must have. I read the news reports detailing everything he knew about Sully. What he saw him do. What happened?”
“The official report is suicide.”
I jerked slightly. Not that. Not Thad. “He’d never—”
“That’s the official report,” he repeated. “My sources tell a different story.” His gaze went over my shoulder then dropped back to me.
I knew. “Zragkor. He died during a zragkor, didn’t he?”
“He was cooperating, but not enough. He initially downplayed what Sullivan could do. What I’d done. But when Tage’s people compared it with what happened on Marker, they knew he’d lied. And they went back, this time for everything.”
I looked down again. But it wasn’t Philip’s hands I saw. Images of a lightning-slashed Gabriel Sullivan kneeling over Gregor’s body rushed unbidden to my mind. The mute terror. Gregor’s mouth open in a silent scream, blood dripping from his ear. The erratic, uncontrollable panting. Then the glint of the knife—
And Del’s silken voice: It’s not exactly torture, Chasidah. I’ve always left them smiling.
A trembling started from deep inside me. I clenched my arms to my sides but it wouldn’t stop. I sucked in a deep breath and felt Sully’s hand tighten on my shoulder. He saw my horror, felt my pain. Sent a warmth, a gentling, but this wasn’t the time for that.
I did not want to be calmed. I wanted to scream and kick something.
Thad hadn’t want to betray me. They’d ripped everything he’d known about Sully, me, and Philip from his mind.
That’s my guess too, angel-mine. Your brother loved you. I know that doesn’t help now. But maybe at some point, that will ease the pain.
I pulled my hands out of Philip’s, wrapped my arms around my waist, and sobbed until I had nothing left inside.
“Drink this.” Sully pushed a mug in front of me. “It will help.”
I was still shuddering but the sobs had stopped. Philip tugged the damp ball of tissues from my hand and pushed fresh ones into my lap. I blew my nose, wiped at my eyes. I grabbed the warm mug and took a deep mouthful.
Fire shot through me. My eyes watered and I coughed, spasms wracking my chest. God. It wasn’t tea. It was Lashto brandy, hot and potent.
“You could have warned me.” I choked, peering at Sully through bleary eyes.
Philip was patting my back. “Breathe, Chaz. Deep breath. Sullivan, get her a glass of water. She’s a lightweight, you know.”
“I…am…not.” I coughed between each word. But I sucked down the cold water greedily. Then I leaned back in the chair and held the warm mug between my hands, resting it against my chest. I closed my eyes. Fumes tickled my nose. I coughed.
I could hear Philip’s soft rumbling sigh on my right. I could feel Sully. Our link wasn’t fully open. Maybe my grief was too much for him, or his fears too potent for me. I didn’t discount the latter, because at some point in my wrenching sobs I’d found myself in Philip’s arms.
But I’d known Philip for so long. And he was Thad’s friend too. It was a mutual pain we shared. Two old friends who cared for each other. Shipmates. Who’d lost one of their own.
Fleet was courageous, staunch, and stalwart, but we grieved deeply.
“Besides Bennton, Junot, and my brother, how many?” I asked Philip. I had to know. I had to cement my hate for Darius Tage.
“I left Raft Thirty about twenty hours ago. I don’t know how many died after that.” But he named the names of those he knew who were injured or dead.
It was far too many, yet truthfully less than I thought. But then, the majority of officers in attendance were from Calth Prime Command. Philip’s sector. Tage had Aldan, Baris, and Dafir to prune yet.
“Who has the Loviti?” I asked.
He shook his head wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to right now.”
“And Jodey?” Captain Jodey Bralford ranked right up there with Thad and Cory Bennton on Philip’s list of close friends.
“I sent him and Kate O’Neil a high-priority coded warning as soon as I realized what was happening. If Jodey got it, then he’s heading for the rim, probably with O’Neil’s P-75 running off his flank. Jodey hand-picked his crew, you know. He had the luxury, the Nowicki being a smaller ship. I know they’d follow him without question.”
“Would he contact us?” Sully asked.
Philip nodded after a moment. “He might. He only has Chaz’s transit code. Not
yours. And he wouldn’t do so until he was sure it was safe. God, I hope he is.” He ran one hand over his face. “I’ve lost too many today. Yesterday. I don’t even know what day it is right now.”
I put the mug on the table then clasped Philip’s arm. “Get some sleep. Sully’s not stingy with his brandy. I’ll bring a bottle to your cabin—”
“Dorsie can do that,” Sully cut in.
Philip’s lips twisted into a sad smile. “Sullivan, I’m a guest on your ship. I have more sense than that. And honor.”
I knew they weren’t talking about the brandy. But I didn’t take my hand off Philip’s arm.
“Either Dorsie or I will bring you a bottle of brandy, if you want,” I said evenly.
Philip pulled his arm from under my hand and pointed to the mug. “You going to finish that?”
I shook my head. “Probably not.”
“That’s all I need.” He picked up the mug and stood. “Problem solved. Give me a couple hours of downtime. And if you have a change of clothes, I could use that. Chaz knows my sizes. Then, when you’re ready, we can go over what Tage is doing, what those rifles can do, and decide whether what’s left of the Empire is worth fighting for.”
He ducked down, brushing my forehead with a kiss. “I wish I could tell you things will get better, Chaz. But I just don’t know anymore.”
He strode heavily from the room, a man without a rank, a command, or an empire to show allegiance to. A man with far more problems than solutions.
I turned my head and looked at Sully. “I want Tage’s head on a platter. Tell me what you and Del can do.”
We’d be four days in jump—which was better than over a shipweek through the heavily trafficked and Fleet-patrolled lanes in Calth and Baris—before we could exit the gate and head for Dock Five. More than enough time, Sully assured me, to determine what he and Del could do. What we all could do.
So I went back to the cabin to scrub my face and try to look like a captain again. And Sully went…I don’t know where he went. But I assumed he went looking for Del.
I checked ship’s inventory, found in which bin fatigues and thermal shirts in Philip’s size were stored. I’d retrieve them later, when I was sure he’d had sufficient rest. Then I brought up the news articles on what my brother had “told” Tage about Sully. And everything else that had anything to do with Tage. The majority was so much political posturing. Tage’s friends at CCNN served him well.
I moved on to Gregor’s notes, hoping there was something we’d overlooked, something we could use against Tage and Burke. Philip hadn’t mentioned Burke’s name, but I could feel him behind the scenes. And then there was Acora—Tage’s accomplice, Gregor’s contact. Would he even still be on Dock Five with all that was happening?
And when we came out of jump, how many more people would be dead? From jukors? From Tage?
I realized we were much too late. It had taken us over three months to find Del. But the information he held about Burke’s jukor labs might not be of value anymore.
We’d wasted three months. We should have gone after Burke, after Tage. Top of the tree. Cut them off. Let the rest of the branches fall where they may.
The door to the corridor opened. I looked up, glimpsing the time on the screen’s edge as I did so. I’d been working the data for over two hours. No surprise, that. Researching and quantifying data were what I did when things went wrong in my life.
Sully ducked in, the long sleeves of his collarless black thermal shirt pushed up. “Chaz? Any better?”
His mind swept through me as the door closed behind him. His probe was a light touch not that dissimilar from the vibration you’d feel listening to the string section of a symphony.
I shrugged as he crossed the short distance to the desk. “I’ve been going over the news feeds, Gregor’s notes. It helps to have something else to focus on.”
Don’t wear yourself out.
“Sully—”
Hush. He drew me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me, tucking my face against his shoulder. Warmth pulsed, simmering. He stroked my back, kneaded the curve of my hip. I wanted to do this before. But…Guthrie disconcerts me.
I snuffled a laugh into the fabric of his shirt. “That’s what admirals do. It’s part of their special training.”
And I had things to do that couldn’t wait. But I didn’t want to leave you alone for long.
“I needed some time alone.”
I knew that too.
Yes, he would, tuned to me as he was.
I’ve been leaving you alone a lot lately. I wish I didn’t have to.
I leaned back, pulling out of his arms, my hands trailing down to his wrists. I curled my fingers though his and rested against the edge of the desk. “You have your special training too. Maybe I understand it a little more now, or at least, why it’s important. Tage was able to do what he did because no one could read his true intentions. But you and Del can. You would know who was with us, who wants to hurt us.” I paused. “I assume you’ve read Philip?”
I expected him to fight it, like last time. He didn’t. No mind-fucker epithets.
“Sully.” I leaned forward, face raised. He met me halfway for a long kiss. “Okay, now holding that thought firmly in mind, please do not have a knee-jerk reaction to what I’m going to say. I’m looking at you, listening to you, and your mouth is closed. Don’t be angry with me but, ky’sal-mine, it’s just plain…strange. In bed, in an emergency, fine. But now?”
Dark lashes lowered briefly then he met my gaze. It’s easier. And more intimate.
A little wave of heat spiraled up my body.
I closed my eyes for a moment, arching my neck, reveling in it. I didn’t want him to think he was unappreciated. Then I looked at him levelly. “I don’t need intimate right now. I need answers.”
He cleared his throat softly. “Point well taken. It just feels very good when I’m in your mind.” And your body.
I gave his hands a warning shake. He grinned.
“Is there anything Philip isn’t telling us we should know about?” I asked.
“There are details of what happened to him that he hasn’t shared, but not because he won’t. He can’t. Yet. He’s disillusioned. Angry. Grieving for lost friends and you know him better than I. That’s something he does in private.
“He also doesn’t fully trust me, but he knew who Del was, knew he’s a powerful Kyi. Knowing what I am, he sees us as a benefit that outweighs the risk. And knowing what he is, knowing his knowledge of Fleet, he’s also a benefit that outweighs the risks to us. To me.”
The “to me” was emphasized, and I didn’t miss it.
“Sully, I love Philip as a dear friend. And I respect him tremendously as my former commanding officer. He’s like Ren is to you, but in reverse. Probably the biggest mistake Philip and I ever made was getting married. He should have made me his first officer instead. We work extremely well together. But our romantic expectations just don’t mesh.”
He brushed my hair back from my face. “I made you my captain.”
“I let you make me your captain,” I told him, chin raised defiantly. “But truth is, I’m just here for the sex.”
He smiled wryly and closed the short distance between us, hugging me against his chest. I have to get back to work. He kissed me soundly, his fingers trailing reluctantly down the side of my face as he stepped away. Ky’sara-mine.
I watched the door close behind him and sat on the desk’s edge until the warmth of him faded from my skin and my mind. Then I spent another forty-five minutes organizing my notes before I headed down to the storage room to find a new wardrobe for Philip.
I ran into Dorsie before I got there. She was coming out of her galley and we stood there for a few very long moments, hugging each other. We’d both lost brothers. We spoke of the brevity of life, the importance of friends. But neither of us needed to get maudlin.
“So, you were married to him?” Dorsie asked.
“It wasn’t wid
ely known. Philip and I both kept our private lives very private. With Fleet, it was better that way. And I never really played the role of Mrs. Guthrie.” I could count on one hand the number of society parties I attended with Philip.
“He seems a little stuffy but nice,” Dorsie said.
“It’s called the ‘presence of command.’ He eats large helpings for breakfast.” I smiled.
“Actually, I prefer two eggs and toast,” Philip said, his voice coming from behind me.
I turned. He looked more rested and had doffed his torn jacket. The hip holster was missing but his usual shoulder holster wasn’t, the black edge of his laser pistol clearly visible. Kyi-killer rifle and three laser pistols. Not to mention the knife he always had in his boot. He’d been armed to the teeth when he’d escaped in the pinnace. For good reason.
“Are you sure you should be up and around?”
“Yes, Mother.” He grinned disarmingly at me, reminding me Sully wasn’t the only charming bastard I knew. Philip had a full complement of the famed Guthrie charm. He just dressed his in a Fleet uniform and not a silky, custom-tailored business suit like his brothers.
Dorsie snorted softly. “You let me know when you’re ready, Admiral Guthrie, and you can have three eggs. And my toast is from homemade bread.”
“Just Philip,” he corrected her. “And I’ve been known to whip up a recipe or two in my time.”
Dorsie looked at me. I nodded. “The man can cook.”
“Challenge accepted, Philip,” Dorsie said. “Now I was just on my way to find Marsh.”
“I’m going that way.” I pointed down the corridor. “Clothes shopping. Might as well make yourself useful,” I said to Philip.
“I hate clothes shopping.” He fell into step with me.
“This will be short and painless. Selections are few but the prices are great.”
He followed me into the crew supplies storage room next to the galley, then unlocked the servostairs for me and guided them to the far wall. Crew coveralls and thermals were things most ships supplied, and the Karn was no exception. I rummaged through two large bins on the third shelf, looking for his size.
Shades of Dark Page 24
