Diffraction

by Jess Anastasi

  But the uneasy ripple through his stomach for her well-being returned. “Don’t put yourself in the firing line over me. I’m not worth it. Everyone I’ve seen in the last hour keeps mentioning how the captain is in a killing mood. I don’t want you risking his temper.”

  “Rian would never hurt any of his crew.” The words sounded confident, but the way her gaze dropped away told a different story.

  He pulled forward against his chains, getting as close to her as he could, leaning down until his next breath was laced with a creamy vanilla scent, one he thought he must have imagined earlier.

  “I mean it. I can survive a few hours chained up. Promise you won’t push the issue with Sherron.”

  She looked back up at him, chin tilting at a defiant angle. “Fine. I promise not to push things with Rian. But like I said, I’m not just going to leave you like this.”

  And probably would still get herself into trouble. But from what he’d come to learn of Kira since coming aboard the Imojenna, she wouldn’t be persuaded from doing what she thought was right, no matter what anyone else said on the issue. Damned if that wasn’t half the reason he’d become so taken with her. No doubt about it, he wanted nothing more than to follow the woman into more trouble, the last place he needed to be right now.

  Chapter Nine

  Kira stomped up the stairs, more furious than she’d ever been since setting foot on the Imojenna. While Rian and the crew of the Imojenna had done a lot of questionable things in pursuit of the Reidar, they’d never locked and chained anyone in the bowels of the ship before. Yeah, there’d been a handful of shady traders and other morally lacking persons stuck briefly in Rian’s brig simply for the intimidation of it, but no doubt those goons had deserved it, and she’d actually always seen it as a bit of a joke, as had the rest of the crew.

  On the second level, she ran out of steam. Just where did she think she was going, and what did she plan on doing? She didn’t have a sound argument against Callan’s reasoning. Her concern for Varean had gone beyond the usual doctor-patient care. Beyond even her deep-seated loathing of seeing a person mistreated or taken advantage of. She’d let it go to a place where she couldn’t be sure her decisions were ruled by logic, or if she was blindly following her tangled emotions, driving her to help Varean for personal gain instead of professional obligation.

  How could she have come to care so much about someone she knew so little about, especially one who had secrets, one who might prove to be a danger to her and the rest of the crew?

  Besides, no one except Rian had the power to order Varean released, and she’d promised she wouldn’t push him on the subject.

  After the short, tense trip back from the dead ship, Rian was about the last person she wanted to speak with. He’d walked away without a word, hadn’t looked at any of them, but there’d been a rawness to his manner she’d never experienced before. Honestly, it freaked her out, like looking at an entirely different man.

  Knowing about Rian’s shadowy past and seeing it firsthand were two very different things.

  They all knew the Reidar had captured and held him prisoner for years, but that was the only confirmed detail anyone had. If the people on the ship had been dead six or seven years, it put the incident right in the middle of the time frame. While they’d assumed he’d been tortured, no one had ever speculated exactly what that might have entailed.

  If Rian had been about in the galaxy carrying out executions on the Reidar’s behalf, what the hell else was he keeping from them?

  She’d never once second-guessed her decision to join his crew, even after she’d found out about the Reidar. She didn’t want to doubt her choice or the man who’d returned her purpose in life. But his treatment of Varean, and the discovery onboard the dead ship, left her feeling shaky.

  As she reached the stairs leading to the upper level of the ship, she spotted Zahli coming down. Relief crossed her friend’s face as she reached the landing.

  “Oh good. I was just coming to find you.”

  “Something wrong?” She braced her hand on the rail as she faced the captain’s sister.

  Teeth worrying her lower lip, Zahli pushed back her thick hair. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened when you went over to that dead ship.”

  A shot of dismay streaked through her. “Haven’t you talked to Lianna or Callan? Or better yet, go see Rian—”

  Zahli shook her head. “I tried. You know how loyal Lianna is to him. She told me Rian would tell me himself if it were something I needed to know. And Callan flat-out shut me down. Rian locked himself in his cabin the moment he got back, and from past experience, no matter how much I bang on his door, he won’t come out until he’s good and ready. I could get Tannin to override the captain’s codes, but I’m worried enough about Rian’s frame of mind that I don’t want to put anyone else in his sights.” Zahli beseeched, “Please, Kira, you’re my closest friend—”

  Any resistance failed in the face of Zahli’s blatant cajoling. “Okay, okay, don’t pull the friend card. There’s probably no one to overhear us, but I don’t want to talk about it out here.”

  She headed halfway back along the corridor and swiped a hand over the small crystal screen sensor to open the hatchway to her cabin.

  The space was identical to every other crew cabin on this level of the Imojenna—a double bed pushed up against the bulkhead below a high, long viewport in the outer side of the ship. Adjacent to that was a padded bench running along the side bulkhead, with a small table set toward the hatchway end. Across the room from that were two smaller hatchways, one the privy facilities and the other a closet. The personal possessions she’d added over the years had slowly given the place a homey feel—a couple of plants that survived in low lighting, a colorful, hand-woven blanket from a market on Shivani, a hanging display of glass and beads in varying shades of purple, and an enlarged picture of a sunset over an ocean on her homeworld of Jacolby on the only blank wall. She didn’t know why she kept that final piece of her old life, only that it was a picture of a beach she used to visit as a child with her parents, sister, and two older cousins—memories of a happy, simple life.

  She went over and plonked herself onto the bed, dragging a corner of the soft blanket over her lap as exhaustion hit her like an asteroid. She’d been running the past days with only a few naps to sustain her. She was beat, but hadn’t realized it until she’d sat down. Now she didn’t know how she was going to get back up again.

  Zahli had sat down on the padded bench opposite and leaned forward, her hands resting on her knees and posture full of tension.

  “So, what happened? I haven’t seen Rian with that exact expression for years, not since he first came back after—” Zahli clenched her hands together. “Well, you know.”

  Actually, she didn’t know, not really. Over the years, Zahli had offhandedly mentioned what Rian had been like when he’d first returned from presumably being dead. He’d been cold and emotionless, detached, and always within a hair trigger of violence to the point she’d refused to sleep in the same house. The shadows in her eyes suggested there was more to the story, but Kira wasn’t about to ask, and truthfully, she didn’t think she wanted to know, especially after what they’d found in that ship.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this? It wasn’t pretty.”

  Lines of tension bracketed Zahli’s mouth and the corners of her eyes. “I have to know. I need to know. No matter what he’s done, he’s still my brother.”

  She fingered the soft edge of the blanket while she attempted to put the words together in a way that would be less traumatic to hear. But damn it, there was no easy way to tell a girl that the sixteen dead bodies on the carefully abandoned ship were the sole responsibility of her older brother.

  “The ship hadn’t been abandoned…by the crew anyway. They were all dead. About seven years by my guess.”

  Zahli gave a jerking nod, sitting forward a bit more. “So? Rian has seen dead bodies before. What about this made
it so different? Were the Reidar responsible?”

  She slid her gaze away from her friend. “You could say that. Indirectly, I suppose.”

  Zahli’s hand dropped over hers where she’d nearly frayed the edge of her blanket. “Come on, Kira, just tell me already. The suspense of not knowing has got to be worse than whatever the truth is.”

  “No, actually, I don’t think it is.” The words came out clipped, almost choppy, as though her mouth didn’t even want to form the syllables. “He killed them.”

  “Who killed them? You mean Rian?”

  She nodded, pressing her lips together as the image of those coldly, perfectly, freakishly laid-out bodies slapped at her. He could have simply killed them and left them where they’d fallen. Instead he’d arranged them. Sure, it looked similar to how the military lined up their dead for transport after a battle, but it still sent a shiver along her spine, made her wonder why Rian had taken the time to do that, and what state of mind he’d been in all those years ago.

  “I thought you said they were already dead.” Zahli’s features took on an edge of frustration.

  “They were already dead. Rian killed them all seven years ago.”

  Zahli blew out a sharp breath. “Okay. So maybe they were Reidar. Maybe they—”

  “No. They were all human. The leaders of Freemont. Pretty much all of their top governing council, actually.”

  “So the Reidar have replaced the Freemont government.” Zahli’s hands clenched. “And if Rian killed them…”

  The end conclusion to that was shockingly simple, though not one member of the Imojenna’s crew would want to believe it.

  “He was a Reidar assassin,” Zahli whispered, her face paling.

  Heart squeezing at her friend’s distress, Kira reached over and wrapped her hand around Zahli’s clenched fist. “We don’t know that for sure.”

  “Yeah, but it frecking explains a lot.” Zahli closed her eyes, taking a slow breath, then opening them again. “It doesn’t change anything. Rian isn’t that person anymore. I knew whatever happened during those lost years was bad, but—”

  “You assumed he was locked up somewhere being tortured, not flying around the galaxy…”

  “Not flying around the galaxy assassinating people? Yeah, that never factored into the equation.” Zahli sent her a bleak smile, unclenching her fist to give her fingers a quick squeeze. “Thank you for telling me. I know it’s the last thing you wanted to do.”

  Zahli released her hand and slouched back on the padded bench as though she had the weight of a world on her shoulders.

  “Since I did you a favor, maybe you can do me one.” The words came out almost before she’d thought about them. Now was the worst time to put any more burden on her friend, but Varean’s situation was winning over her reservations, and Zahli would understand. Out of all the crew, Zahli was the one she could count on to always take her side. “I need you to talk to Rian about Varean. If Rian ever wants him to cooperate, locking him up is not going to achieve that, and neither will being chained to the wall.”

  “Why are you so bothered about what happens to some random soldier Rian took off the Swift Brion?”

  She worked to keep her expression neutral while her mind raced to come up with an excuse, but apparently she wasn’t all that successful. Comprehension dawned on Zahli’s face.

  “Kira—”

  “It’s nothing, I swear. But you have to admit he doesn’t deserve to be treated like a criminal when he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  Zahli crossed her arms, giving her head a slight shake. “I’m sorry, Kira. I don’t think it’s a good idea to cross Rian about even the smallest thing today.”

  A small swell of disappointment washed through her. It’d been a long shot and probably not fair to press Zahli just because she was the captain’s sister. Rian had proven that in matters of ship and crew, he wouldn’t treat her any differently than the rest of them.

  “I just can’t stand knowing he’s chained up down there.”

  Zahli stood, expression sympathetic. “I don’t like it either. But the best thing you can do is give Rian some space and find some other way to help the commando.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I should be the one thanking you.” Her friend took a couple of steps toward the hatchway, then glanced back with a rueful smile. “I might not agree with the way Rian handled this thing, but I think you need to be careful. I get the feeling this commando is going to bring nothing but trouble, and then some.”

  Not waiting for a response, she left the cabin.

  Pushing to her feet, Kira winced at her stiff muscles. What she really needed was a hot shower and a few solid hours of sleep. But that wouldn’t be happening until she sorted something out with Varean.

  Zahli had said to find another way to help Varean, but truthfully, her options were limited. She was a doctor, not a soldier or a psychologist. She didn’t know the first thing about getting someone to talk—because talking was the only thing that would get him out of this. If he were injured, she could fix his wounds no problem. If he were sick, she could run tests and administer medication—

  Her brain stumbled, and she paused at her cabin hatchway. Tests. Of course, why hadn’t she thought of it before? Surely, if the Reidar had done some kind of experiments to Varean on a genetic level, it would show up in his blood work. He didn’t need to tell them anything, he just needed to let her take a blood sample.

  With renewed energy, she left her quarters. The ship was quiet, apart from the rumbling hum of the engines, no doubt because everyone was wary of Rian’s mood. It would have been almost easier if he yelled or smashed a few plates in the galley. Instead, the eerie, still tension in the ship, like humidity rising before one mother of a storm, was much worse than any violent outburst.

  She went to one of the storage cupboards and got a bucket. After that, she went to her medbay to fill it with warm water, grab some antiseptic liquid soap, and a few cloths. Though everyone seemed to be keeping themselves scarce she was still surprised she made it down to the brig without anyone intercepting her. Someone had been down here, however, because she’d left the barred doorway standing open, and now it was closed and locked. The sight reignited the spark of anger. Seriously, the guy was chained up. Was it really necessary to lock the bars as well? He looked like he could barely hold himself up, let alone orchestrate some superhero-esque escape.

  She set the bucket down with an aggravated clunk, sloshing some of the water and gaining Varean’s attention. He lifted his head and straightened from his slouch as she unlocked the door.

  “What are you doing back here?” He adjusted his shoulders, wrapping his hands around the chains on his wrists, holding himself up. A sharp stab of contrition cut right through the middle of her chest, making her heart skip a painful beat. She’d strayed into uncharted territory in letting her emotions get mixed up with him and his situation. She was so determined to help, but barely knew how. Getting him cleaned up seemed superficial when taking into account his current circumstances.

  “I seem to remember someone wanting to be clean.” She hefted the bucket over and set it down by his feet.

  The upward quirk of his lips couldn’t be called a smile, but there was definitely a brief flash of cynical amusement. “Belay that order, Doc. No quarter for this prisoner, which definitely includes a sponge bath from the naughty nurse.”

  “Naughty nurse?” If anyone else had said that, especially Callan, she definitely would have added a little extra something to their next meal in revenge. But coming from Varean, and considering his predicament, she found it humorous. “Lucky you’re already chained up or I might have taken exception to that.”

  Stepping closer, she pulled out a small pair of scissors and cut away his torn, bloody shirt, holding her breath as his chest and shoulders were bared. The way he’d healed was nothing short of staggering. Where there should have been a gaping, bloody wound from the large knife Callan wielded, there was noth
ing but a healthy-looking pink scar, as though the injury had been sustained months ago, not a day past.

  She hadn’t found the chance to talk with Ella yet and still held out minor hope the Arynian priestess was responsible for the healing. However, there was a marked difference between his wound and when Ella had done the same for Rian. After Ella had finished with the captain, there hadn’t been any hint of a scar, whereas it looked as if Varean would be left with a permanent reminder.

  Putting the thought out of her mind, she crouched down to wet one of the cloths and add a dab of liquid soap, then stood and focused on the streaks of blood across his chest. Beneath that, his muscles stood out in sharp relief under the bulkhead lights. She had to take a second to grope for her professionalism. She’d given plenty of sponge baths when she’d been an intern, but that had been a lot of years ago, and none of her patients had looked like Varean. None of them had put her in a tailspin of impetuous emotion and deep kindling heat.

  Instead of this being a chore, part of her was a little too eager to get the slippery wet cloth all over his glistening skin. Oh god. That thought had been so wrong. She had to find her sensible side, wherever it had flitted off to.

  “Kira.”

  The sound of her name in the low rumble of his voice jarred her entire body, including her lungs, leaving them to stall on a half breath. She glanced up to find him staring down at her. Sweat dripped down the side of his face, his bunched shoulders and biceps glistening from a damp sheen covering his skin.

  “You’d be doing me a better kindness to simply leave me alone. I’m starting to get the feeling none of this is going to end pretty, and I don’t want you in the middle of that.”

  Her fist contracted around the wet cloth, water dribbling over her hand as she squeezed.

  “I can’t do that.” The words came out as not much more than a whisper.

  He shifted forward, as far as the chains would allow, which was scarcely half a step. “You have to.”

  “Let me take a blood sample.” She hadn’t meant to blurt out the words so bluntly, had planned to ease him into the idea, talk him around to seeing reason. “Let me run some tests. I understand why you’ve been refusing to talk—you don’t owe us anything. But if you want to help yourself, if you want to help me, then let me take some blood and run a sample. It’s the only way you’re going to get out of this.”