Fire & Soul

by Siobhan Crosslin

  "You're part of the resistance," I say dully. "You and Aiya and Keito and Micca."

  "Yes," he says. "We're funded and helped by the Vrah'di. We think you can help us prove the Project exists and get it out to the Hegemony so the Brudeah can't use the Alliance to silence us anymore."

  "No." I don't even twitch at Mikscn's statement. "They'd kill Cherian."

  Jye takes a big breath and I tense. "He's free."

  "No, he's not," I snap.

  Jye's hand tightens on my shoulder. "Why do you think we're here, miles away from any kind of Brudeah presence, and your collars haven't been triggered? We bought and freed him when he was fourteen, and his one demand was that we find a way to deactivate your collars."

  "You're lying," I hiss, straightening and leaning away from him.

  "Why wouldn't he tell us?" Mikscn demands.

  "Because it took us till now to find a way to break your collars," Jye says, sighing. "And we can't even remove them fully until we get to Control. Of course Jheghda wouldn't want you to find out, and Cherian wanted to protect you."

  "You all lied?" I ask flatly. "Have been lying?" Our mentors knew this whole time?

  He nods. "We've been trying to protect you. Cherian's been making us wait until we knew for certain we could deactivate your collars safely."

  "What do you want with us?" Mikscn asks.

  Jye shifts back so he can see us both more easily and clasps his hands in his lap. "You're descendants of the scientists that created a database on the Project during the initial attack, before they were overwhelmed. The building that houses the database is on the original Brudeah homeworld, and can only be entered by a pair of descendants, that much we managed to find out. When we bought Cherian, we didn't know that a pair was needed until we took him to the planet and it didn't work. The security measures engaged and we almost lost a few people trying to get away."

  "If the Houses knew—"

  "They don't," he says sharply. "Cherian's purchase was made to look legitimate, and we waited a year for him to 'die' in an accident. There's no way they'd suspect that he's alive."

  "So Jheghda's been playing us this entire time," I say, rubbing my hands over my face.

  "Yes."

  "How are we supposed to believe you?" Mikscn asks. "Everything you've told us is a lie."

  "That's not true," Jye says. He smiles crookedly and runs his fingers down Mikscn's cheek. "Just … trust me as you have been."

  Mikscn glances at me, and I twitch my shoulder. I don't know anymore. Help the resistance? The possibility that Cherian's free is shadowed by the possibility that everyone I know and trust has been lying for six years.

  I just … I have nothing left to give. So I lean back and let Mikscn decide to trust Jye and believe that he's telling the truth this time.

  It doesn't take long to move the adjunct to a plains area. I watch dully from my spot on the adjunct's shoulder as the pirate ships descend from the sky, silver and sleek, bullet-like with thin black lines following their curves. Mikscn lets out a low, envious whistle.

  "They're gorgeous," he murmurs. "Sister ships?"

  "Mm." Jye reaches over and scrubs at my hair. My heart rises in my throat, something I can't identify choking me. "The Dreamdare and the Novasky. The Daystar's taken off to retrieve your brother."

  "We'll see him soon?" Mikscn asks sharply.

  Jye nods. "I'll be able to tell you more after we've got the adjunct aboard."

  The docking bay hatch on one of the ships—the Dreamdare—opens and several people come striding down the expansive ramp. Jye scales down the front of the adjunct, and Mikscn follows closely. I stay where I'm perched, watching the strangers come closer.

  Jye hugs the man in front, and they chat for a few seconds before Mikscn tilts his head back to look up at me, his hand shading his eyes. There's a warm pulse of reassurance and I sigh and start the climb down, shivering occasionally at the cold press of wind against my skin.

  The man in front steps forward and holds out his hand. "You must be Temsha. I'm Bastien, captain of the Dreamdare." He's definitely Inali, with black hair and eyes, though his hair is short and a little shaggy, with a multicolored shimmer glistening in his irises. It's highly unusual to see an Inali off-planet and not on Maedbh's business, and one with short hair at that. He gestures to the man beside him, a man with blue eyes and long blond hair bound in a braid. "This is Ruadh, my boatswain and husband."

  "Nice to meet you," I murmur, glancing at the two men who haven't been introduced.

  "Fehr, weapons master," a tanned, scarred man says. "This is Jedn, senior gunner." He jerks his head at the young man standing at his side. "We need to disable your weapons before we load your mech up."

  I bristle and Jedn shifts forward. "Not completely," he says, flicking a glance at Fehr. "Just shut the weapons systems down. It's my understanding that you can do that without too much trouble?"

  "Yeah," I say, rocking back on my heels.

  "Great." Bastien glances at Ruadh before nodding. "Let's get started."

  *~*~*

  Hours later, we finally get to sit down and talk. Besides Bastien, Ruadh, and Fehr, five other men and women filter into the meeting room we're led into. Mikscn and I claim the seats furthest from the door, Jye trailing along behind us. I've never liked being inside a ship. Everything's shiny and silver and cold, nothing at all like the soothing dark of the cockpit, and I refuse to sit with my back to the door.

  We were at war with these people yesterday.

  Bastien tenders quick introductions; Elen, Ross, Bess, Jack, and Wes make up the rest of the command structure on the ship. I let Mikscn play nice as I look everyone over. There's a careful professionalism to the set of their shoulders, a decided lack of hostility. Bastien clears his throat and passes around a set of wafer-thin screens that come alive under our fingers.

  "We need to get this done quickly," Bastien says. "There's a possibility that your collars, though deactivated, are still sending out a signal. We have to move fast, just in case Jheghda sends someone after you two."

  Someone mutters something about making a decision, but the door opens and everyone falls silent as a man slides into the room, muttering apologies as he finds a seat.

  "And this is Emery, our initial force interface analyst," Bastien says.

  Mikscn and I turn to look at him. "What," I say.

  "He's the ship's anam," Jye says, reaching out to touch my hand.

  I shift away, though, and cut a glare at Bastien. "Why do you call him that?"

  Bastien's eyebrows drift up. "That's the technical name for his position aboard the ship," he says slowly.

  "We heard rumors you people had anams," I bite out. "He's your ship's soul—call him that, instead of hiding him behind a title."

  "It's okay," Emery cuts in. "I don't—"

  "Don't let them disrespect you," I say, leaning forward. I gesture to his throat and the scars that rest in the grooves of his collarbone. "You were a slave, don't let them belittle your sacrifice with a nice, safe title."

  "It doesn't matter," he snaps.

  "You were someone's soul!" I exclaim. "Your trifecta—"

  "Anam," Emery snarls, bolting to his feet. It takes me a second to realize he's talking to Jye. "Your pilot is obviously suffering from an abrupt desync. Control him or I will!"

  I flinch away, bump into Mikscn, and panic jumps up my throat, my skin's too tight, the room's too small and I'm fucking cornered—

  I slam through the door and into the opposite wall, my throat tightening as I sprint down the hall, my shoes squeaking on the cold metal until I find the room we were assigned. My hands are shaking as I jab the code they gave us into the keypad. I turn the handle and shove at the door, rattling it in its frame until the lock releases and I fall into the room. I slam the door closed and fall, curl into myself on the floor, and sob.

  I don't know how long it is until I realize that someone's stroking my hair and murmuring reassurances. I turn my face f
urther into Jye's leg, suddenly exhausted, and he presses his fingers to my lips.

  "You with me now?" he whispers, and I nod jerkily.

  "Sorry," I croak, and he hums.

  "That was quite the freakout, babe. You want to talk about it?"

  I just lay there for a couple of minutes, trying desperately not to feel anything. But Jye's scent, a little spicy and something like warm amber, keeps slip-sliding through my thoughts, and curls in somewhere next to where the panic and hopelessness is sitting.

  "They don't respect their anam," I say, instead of what I want to. Please stay with us.

  "They do," he says. "Just not the way you're used to."

  "But he's one of us," I say, frowning. "He's used to that kind of respect."

  "But he doesn't demand it from them. None of us demand respect." He flicks my hair away from my eyes. "You choose to give it to us. We don't always understand why it's such a … thing for you."

  "Because we need you," I choke out. "If we don't appreciate you and what you do for us, what are we supposed to do when you're gone?"

  He stills and I wince. "Temsha, look at me."

  But I sit up and scrub my hands over my face, suddenly ashamed. Sex is an integral part of our culture, or what culture we've manage to carve out for ourselves. It's not expected that trifectas be sexually active with each other, but Mikscn and I were definitely the exception to the rule.

  So while Jye may not consider it a burden to be sexual with us, it is so fucking selfish and inappropriate to hope that our relationship won't change now that we know the real reason he's here. And because I can't keep my stupid thoughts to myself, he's got to know that I—we—don't want him to leave.

  "I'm going to take a nap," I say, climbing up onto the frankly minuscule bunk. "Mikscn can bring me up to speed later."

  "I gave you an order," Jye snaps, pushing up behind me, and I go cold, then hot.

  "I don't want to talk anymore," I say flatly.

  "Well, too bad," he says, and I twist so I can kick at his legs.

  "Leave me the fuck alone!" I exclaim, and he lunges forward to grab and pin my wrists.

  I want to twist, to get my legs under him and shove him off, kick him out of the room, but the part of me that's been counting down until he leaves makes me stop. Enjoy it while it lasts.

  Jye seems to notice the exact second when I acquiesce because he relaxes and moves to straddle me, his punishing grip on my wrists loosening.

  "I can't help you if you don't listen to me," he murmurs.

  "I'm not some—some perfect savior, or some rebellious martyr," I say. "I wouldn't let Keito talk to me about the Project, before. I was scared."

  "Okay," he says easily. He strokes his thumbs over my relays and I shiver even as the shocky tingle calms the panic rising in my throat. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We can take you to Control and remove your collars there. There are others that could probably help." He smiles a little. "You and Mikscn just happened to be at the top of our priority list."

  "Why."

  "Partly because of the deal we made with Cherian." He tilts his head to the side. "Partly because I refused to leave you with Jheghda any longer than I absolutely had to."

  My breath catches in my throat and I make myself swallow hard. "Why would you …."

  He trails his fingers along my arms, brushing the soft inner skin of my elbows, along the sides of my throat, before cupping my face in his hands. "Is Mikscn listening?"

  Instantly, I feel Mikscn blow our connection wide open, and I nod shakily, unable to vocalize with Mikscn so close beneath my skin.

  "Cherian is one of my closest friends," Jye murmurs. "He talks about you two all the time." We nod slowly and he smiles a little. "I fell in love with you two a long time ago. Every time Cherian wrote you a letter, I had to convince him not to mention me because I wanted you two to meet me yourselves. When we were putting together a plan to get you out, I refused to let anyone else come to you." He strokes his thumb over my lips and we suck in a shaky breath. "It had to be me. I needed it to be me."

  "What—"

  He ducks down and pulls me into a kiss, lingering and almost annoying chaste. "I need you both to be mine," he whispers against my lips. "I need to be yours."

  "Oh." I lick my lips and nod, Mikscn's excitement making it hard to stay still and passive. "Okay. Yeah." I nod again, flexing my fingers, trying to still the tremor running through my chest. "We want that, too. We—we want that a lot."

  He chuckles and sits back, bracing himself with a hand over my heart. "I know. I didn't realize that I hadn't told you guys that I only play for keeps."

  Mikscn whispers encouragement through my mind, all tremulous joy and steely determination, with a thread of amusement, before gently closing down our link.

  "Mikscn—"

  "I know." He sinks a hand into my hair. "You get a certain look in your eyes when you're in each other's skin."

  He runs his free hand up to collar my throat, pressing down just a little, and my pulse jumps. "You need this more than he does."

  I open my mouth automatically to deny needing anything, but stop when he just calmly raises his brows, sort of faintly challenging, and the words die in my throat. "I … don't know why," I say instead, and he laughs.

  "Does it matter?" He shifts to cover my eyes, his other hand still ringing my throat. The implied control startles a groan from my lips and he shifts his weight again. I draw in a shaky breath before I just … settle, calm flowing through me. I'm almost lightheaded, kind of giddy, and I press my hands harder into the mattress. "You need this," Jye says. "That's all the reason I need to give it to you."

  "Okay," I rasp.

  He hums softly as he presses his hands to my chest. "Keep your eyes closed," he says, and I nod breathlessly. He pushes his hands under my shirt and I jump at the cold touch. He just pushes my shirt up, tugging it over my head. I shiver when the cold air hits my skin, but don't say anything.

  He traces the long scar running along my ribs on my left side. "What's this from?"

  "Uh, injury from a battle with one of the other Houses."

  I start when he licks the star-shaped scar in my right shoulder. "And this?"

  "We were doing security during a council session and one of the other Houses attempted a coup. We weren't using the adjuncts, and I got shot."

  He shifts down, leaving cold air where he'd been settled. He nips at the wide mess of scars along my hip. "This?"

  "An infiltrator from another House. I was sparring with the anam, and she tried to kill me. She almost succeeded."

  He works lazily at my pant fastenings, brushing lightly at my trapped half-hard cock.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and he laughs as he urges my hips up so he can work my pants down. I tangle my fingers together and stretch my arms up to keep myself from touching him, and he presses my wrists down.

  "Do you want me to bind your hands together?" he asks, his voice dead serious, and it's only the lack of laughter that lets me nod. He pets my cheek. "You can open your eyes," he says, and I watch him climb off the bunk and dig through his bags.

  I can't keep the skepticism off my face when he returns with a pair of padded cuffs. "Really?"

  He grins. "If you'd paid attention in class, you'd know that this is pretty normal. As soon as I figured this would be something you'd want, I had Aiya get a hold of some stuff for me."

  I gape at him, horrified. "You asked my mother for sex toys?"

  He laughs and kisses me hard. "Why do you think she knew where to get them?" he murmurs against my lips.

  I wrinkle my nose. "I try not to think about what they get up to."

  "Here, let me help with that," he says, his voice husky as he stretches up to cuff my wrists, the velcro loud in the cold room. "Comfortable?"

  I clear my throat and nod, closing my eyes so I can feel better. He presses down on the links binding my wrists together, and I try to press up, twisting and pulling, my breath comin
g fast and shallow.

  His thighs close around my hips and I twist and buck, my eyes screwed shut as I try to throw him off. But Jye just holds on tighter and tangles his hand in my hair, tugging my head back to expose my throat.

  I relax with a low groan and try to lift my hands just to feel him press me down.

  "Good," he breathes. "Perfect."

  I feel myself flush all the way down to my chest at the praise, and squirm. "Jye …."

  "You okay?" He pets my cheek and I nod rapidly.

  "I just …." I twist and squirm, chasing after—something, I don't know what.

  "What?"

  "I don't …." I huff and open my eyes.

  He smiles. "Emery was right, you know. You and Mikscn desynced hard and fast. I'm pretty sure that's half your problem right now."

  "So … what?" I bite out.

  He shifts and rubs down on my cock. I gasp and arch, jerking up into his heat. "So I help you come down," he says, and I would think he's entirely unaffected but for the slight breathlessness in his voice and the hardness rubbing against mine. "You trust me." It isn't a question, so I don't bother replying. "Close your eyes."

  He spends a long time just touching, running his fingers along scars and unmarred skin, pressing down and stroking, warming me and chasing away the crushing loneliness that echoes through the place where Mikscn resides when we're us.

  I sink down and down, lower and deeper, answering distantly when he speaks, questions.

  "Is this okay?"

  "Do you like this?"

  "You're so good."

  "Does this feel okay?"

  "You're perfect."

  "I love you."

  I laugh a little, alternately giddy and dazed, clinging and floaty, arching up into his mouth and pressing, pulling against his hands and weight. When he presses slick fingers against the place that hasn't seen this kind of attention since that time, I surface a little, groaning as my head lolls.

  "Are you okay, is this good?"

  I whine and press down, chasing the sensation, and he laughs breathlessly. I jump when Mikscn sends indignation and embarrassment screaming down the link before slamming it closed again.

  "What?" Jye asks, pressing deeper.