He did not incline his head in return, however. While she was still registering that particular act of rudeness, he moved toward her with lightning speed. One hand grabbed her arm, while the other came up to her neck. A sudden sharp, piercing pain, and then darkness as black as her cloak enveloped her.
* * *
“She’s waking up,” an unfamiliar male voice said, speaking in Galactic Standard.
“Good,” another voice replied, one she recognized all too well, unfortunately.
Gabriel Brant.
Trinity sat up, placing one hand against her head as she did so in a vain attempt to quell the pounding in her temples. A few blinks, and she saw that she was sitting on a hospital bed in a small room with blank gray walls. After the lush plants and natural materials of the Zhore buildings she’d been frequenting lately, the sterile chamber around her looked alien, forbidding.
Or maybe that was just because of the way Gabriel and the two men with him were looking at her. Like something under a microscope.
“What the hell, Gabriel?” she said then, glad that at least she sounded only ordinarily irritated, and not frightened or worried, which was how she actually felt.
“I might ask you the same thing.”
She glared at him, then flicked her glance toward the other two men in the room. She knew she’d never seen either of them before. They looked to be in their late thirties or early forties, nondescript, one of them even a little chubby. Their expressions were unreadable.
“Where am I?” This place was as unfamiliar as the two men who accompanied Gabriel. Trinity couldn’t begin to figure out why she was here at all. Had something happened to compromise her mission? Were they pulling her out early?
Her relief at the thought of such a prospect was outweighed by the despair that immediately followed. If she was being removed from Zhoraan, that meant she’d probably never see Zhandar again. And that was something she couldn’t bear.
“On Kelzhar.”
Of course. Zhoraan’s second moon. The satellite where off-worlders were allowed to build shops and cafés on the moon’s base, thus providing perfect cover for the operatives who’d been put there to monitor and analyze the transmissions from her implant. Those were the two men she didn’t recognize.
“What am I doing here? Has something gone wrong with my implant?”
“Yes. The transmissions were becoming garbled, so we had to replace it.”
Well, that explained something of why she was here. She wouldn’t let herself dare to hope that her last few exchanges with Zhandar hadn’t been transmitted at all, but she could see why an equipment malfunction might have forced Gabriel to haul her up here for a replacement.
There seemed to be something else, though, something that made her hackles go up. She couldn’t explain why, since she couldn’t read anything of what her handler what was thinking. All she knew was that she desperately wished she was back down on Zhoraan.
Gabriel paused, then flicked a glance over one shoulder at his two operatives. “Leave us.”
Not even a “please.” But that was how things worked in the Consortium’s shadow ops. No room for common courtesy there. No need, Trinity supposed. Everyone was used to doing as they were told.
Well, that was one thing she had in common with the two men who’d just left the room.
Once they were gone, Gabriel’s attention returned to her. For a long, long moment, he said nothing, but only sat there on the hard metal chair that had been placed next to her hospital bed. She realized then that her heavy hooded cloak had been removed and lay draped across the foot of the bed, although she still had on the close-fitting tunic and slim pants she wore underneath. Thank God for that.
Then Gabriel stood and came over to her. One hand reached out and grasped her by the chin, hard. Trinity winced, but otherwise did not move. It didn’t take a psychic to know that she’d done something that angered him. Then again, while his controls were usually very good, right then he seemed upset enough that some of his rage had begun to slip out around the edges.
Not rage, she realized then, her entire body seeming to clench.
Jealousy.
“We were getting some very interesting readings from you, Trinity,” he said. He let go of her chin, but only so he could grasp her by the arm. “Spikes in your blood pressure, heart rate…changes in your body temperature readings. But only when you let this Zhandar kiss you. Would you like to explain yourself?”
“There’s nothing to explain,” she said calmly. In a way, she knew that acting as if his anger was of no great importance would only infuriate him more, but right then, she didn’t care. “Wasn’t that my mission, to be with, if not Zhandar, some other suitable Zhore male? It turns out that he and I are compatible, though, in the way that the Zhore on Lathvin that you told me about is with his human partner. I was surprised by that, but I knew what I had to do. So I don’t know what you’re getting so upset about.”
Those anthracite-gray eyes — so different from Zhandar’s shimmering silver — narrowed. “Yes, you were given a mission. But — ”
“But what?” she broke in, pulling her arm from his grasp. To her relief, he didn’t try to grab hold of her again, but just waited there, hands now clenched into fists. “I wasn’t supposed to enjoy it?”
Right then, she could feel the anger radiating from him. Alone like this with her, he didn’t seem to care whether he was blocking it or not. “How could you enjoy it, with that alien?”
Because he’s a good man, she thought. Because my body sings when he touches me.
That sort of response probably wouldn’t play very well with Gabriel Brant, however. She knotted her fingers in her lap, still vaguely mesmerized by the play of light along the tiny, delicate scales of her surgically applied skin. “An alien who’s an empath, remember? I can block a little from him, but not too much, because otherwise he’ll wonder why he’s not sensing responses in me that he would have felt from any other Zhore female with whom he had a connection. You can’t lie about those sorts of things, Gabriel. I have to allow myself to respond to him, because otherwise he’ll know something’s wrong. He might begin to guess. And that would get us all in a world of trouble, wouldn’t it?”
While logical, her reply clearly just irritated Brant that much more. Mouth clenched almost as tightly as his fists, he stepped away from her, as if he needed to put some space between them so he could gather his thoughts. At length he said, “I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, I know.” Who would have thought Gabriel Brant would act like some jealous boyfriend, sulking because some other male paid attention to his girlfriend at a bar or club?
The thing was, he wasn’t her boyfriend, though. He was the person assigned to handle her, to make sure she carried out the impossible mission the Consortium had seen fit to give her. Somewhere along the line, though, it seemed as if he’d gotten his wires crossed, and now he apparently viewed her as his property. The government wouldn’t care about that, not if it got the information it wanted, along with a little half-breed its scientists could study. Once she was done on Zhoraan, she would be Gabriel’s.
And although it had seemed at first that he was indifferent to the notion of her having to be intimate with a Zhore, now it looked as if he’d changed his tune. She’d dared to enjoy kissing Zhandar.
Trinity hated what she knew she had to do next, but she didn’t see any way around it. Allowing herself a quick breath for courage, she crossed over to where Gabriel stood and laid a hand on his arm.
“It’s not as if I really want to do it,” she told him. “It’s more like…I can let my instincts take over when I have to. And that’s all it is. Instinct. Automatic body functions. You can’t think that I’m consciously enjoying myself, can you?”
His eyes scanned her face. Her expressions were still her own, more or less, but they looked so very different now. Because of that, she had no idea what he actually saw in her features.
Whatever it was must have conv
inced him, however, because in the next moment he was bending down and slamming his mouth on hers, forcing his tongue inside. Trinity forced herself to keep from gagging, and instead pressed her body against his, wrapped her arms around him. And as much as she wanted to shut her eyes so she wouldn’t be confronted by the visual evidence of who she was kissing, she knew that would be a mistake.
So she gazed up at him, lids somewhat droopy, as if with desire, but not enough to completely veil her eyes. It seemed to work, because his arms tightened around her as he attempted to claim her with his mouth.
And, thank God, her heart was beating quickly, and her breathing was speeding up, but with tension, not desire. The two goons monitoring all her readings wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, though, and that was the important thing. Gabriel could never learn that she was faking all this.
At last he released her, although his eyes never left her face. “You enjoyed that?”
“Of course I did.”
A long pause. Then the door opened, and Blake Chu stepped in.
Trinity’s mouth went dry. That whole time, she’d been keeping her barriers up — it was just easier to maintain them at all times, rather than raise and lower them at her whim — but had it been enough? Or had Blake somehow managed to see through the lies she’d been telling Gabriel?
Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at Blake. “Well?”
Blake’s thin shoulders lifted. “I didn’t get anything from her. She must be blocking herself all the time now.”
Damn straight. And thank God for that. Fixing what she hoped was a look of innocence on her face, she said, “Was I? I guess I’ve just been so focused on making sure the Zhore can’t get anything out of me that I didn’t stop to think about it.” Then she lifted an eyebrow and sent a searching glance of her own in Blake’s direction. “I thought you’d stayed back at the base.”
“I did, but then Gabriel called for me to help out here.” Blake smiled, but the eyes behind his glasses remained cold. “Who else could go down there and stab a needle in you to knock you out? I’m the only one who could have kept the Zhore from figuring out the person Gabriel sent wasn’t one of them.”
She supposed she should have thought of that. “How’d you get me away? It’s not like you could have zapped me out of there like on one of those shows set in the future with matter transporters and all that other crap.”
Gabriel and Blake exchanged a glance. Then Gabriel replied, “He took you up to the roof of your building, where a shielded craft was waiting for you. We’re now able to mimic their transponder codes. They didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. And that’s how we’ll return you…when we’re done with you.”
That wasn’t really what she wanted to hear. Then again, as angry as he was, Gabriel still needed her to complete the mission. They didn’t have anyone else. And whatever his personal feelings on the matter might be, he certainly wasn’t about to defy his own superiors to keep her out of the clutches of an alien male. So she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, or force himself on her. Not when the entire goal was to get her knocked up by a Zhore.
Despite those reassurances, Trinity wasn’t about to let her guard down. “Haven’t I done everything you’ve asked? I’m playing a part. That’s all.” She almost added, You need to trust me, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She doubted Gabriel Brant trusted anyone. Maybe not even himself.
He gave the slightest tilt of his head toward the door, but that seemed to be enough for Blake. He sent Trinity a last speculative glance, then sidled out. After the door closed again, the little room was deathly quiet. She didn’t dare say anything. Now it was Gabriel’s turn. He’d have to decide whether he believed what she’d been telling him, or not.
The seconds ticked by. She stood very still, hands at her sides. Then he took a step toward her. Another. They were only a few inches apart. He was very tall. Not quite as tall as Zhandar, but enough that she felt her own lack of height even more keenly.
Gabriel bent toward her, pushed her heavy black-dyed hair away from her ear. His breath came hot as he whispered, “Don’t enjoy it. I’ll be able to tell.”
Then he stepped away. All she could do was remain standing there, until Blake returned to take her back to Zhoraan.
CHAPTER TEN
It should have been torture, having Zhanna there every day, and yet not being able to touch her, or even tell the people they worked with how their relationship had changed. And yet, strangely, it wasn’t. Perhaps that was simply because they had their stolen hours after work, when she would come to his apartment and they would eat and talk, and lie in each other’s arms — still clothed, still only kissing — until the hour grew late enough that he knew he must return her to her home.
Of course he wanted her to stay, but he told himself he must be patient. They would have the rest of their lives to share, and it had only been ten days since they revealed their feelings to one another. There was time.
At any rate, work was keeping them both busy. Zhanna proved over and over what a valuable companion she was, not only in the private times they shared, but also in keeping track of his numerous projects and appointments. Young she might be, but it was clear she had a good deal of experience in this type of work.
And if she seemed reticent to discuss her own past, while at the same time encouraging him to speak of his own family, Zhandar couldn’t blame her too much for that. Her losses must still be very fresh, very painful, and if it soothed her to hear about his sister and the child she’d been blessed with, or his parents and their homestead some fifty kilometers outside Torzhaan, Zhandar found himself happy to oblige. He wanted to take her to meet them, but because he and Zhanna had not yet formalized their bond, he decided it would be better to wait. They would have time enough in the future.
Jalzhin had not bothered to contact him again. Rozhara must have passed the word along, and Zhandar was grateful to her for that. But when he’d suggested that he did not need to attend any of their sessions any longer, she told him sternly, “I am pleased that you have found someone who is sayara, Zhandar. But that does not mean you’ve left all the pain of the past behind. You cannot place all your hope for healing on this woman you have only just met.”
He’d wanted to protest that he’d done no such thing, but he knew that Rozhara had a point. Besides, if he humored her with one or two more meetings, and she saw how well he was doing, then she would be able to make her own decision regarding his mental health, and would let him alone. He valued his counselor’s input and the advice she had given him over the past year, but he believed he had no more need of her guidance.
Zhanna came into his office as he was working with the 3-D modeler, making minute adjustments to the placements of the planters in the rooftop garden he was designing. This was the part of his work he loved the most. The retrofitting and the remodeling were also important, but it was when he had the ability to design a garden from the beginning that he felt his talents were being put to the best use.
Although it was late, and they were the only ones left on this floor, she still shut the door behind her. He looked up, surprised, as she moved toward him, then paused on the other side of the pedestal with the 3-D model of the garden.
“I have been thinking,” she began.
“You have?” he asked, the words slightly teasing.
But she didn’t rise to the bait. Running a gloved finger along one edge of the pedestal, she went on, “We have a weekend ahead of us.”
“Yes,” he allowed. That was true enough. Three days to reenergize. Perhaps it was time to take her out to the country. They had explored so many of the city’s parks, its museums and galleries. No reason why they couldn’t begin to go farther afield. This part of the world was still new to Zhanna, and he would enjoy sharing its beauties with her.
Her barriers dropped. Just a little, but it was like getting a taste of irzhir honey, thick with desire, with need. “I thought that perhaps we could spend the weekend indoors
this time.”
All notions of taking her exploring dropped instantly away. Or rather, he wanted very much to explore with her…they would just be explorations of a very different nature.
“I think that would be possible,” he managed, although his heart was already beating more quickly at the thought of three days with her. Three days of sharing, of making love, of making the final commitment to one another.
“Good,” she murmured. “Would you mind if I went home and put together a few things? Then I’ll come to you at your apartment.”
“No, of course not,” he said. “Whatever you would like.”
“Oh, I’ll let you know what I like,” she replied, her voice low and husky with desire. She went to the door and paused there, hand hovering near the controls. “Don’t work too late.”
And then she had let herself out, and Zhandar had to remind himself to breathe.
* * *
Was this a mistake? Trinity had wrapped so many lies around herself, around this world she’d created, that she couldn’t begin to figure out what her best course of action was anymore. The true thing, the right thing, would be to tell Zhandar who she really was and why she was really here, but she was too much of a coward for that. Better to do as she was told, get this over with, and then slip away. Yes, that would cause him pain, but the longer she dragged things out, the worse it would get.
Besides, she hated the way he was so open and honest with her, how every little thing he told her about his family, about his past, was being catalogued and discussed and dissected by those two voyeurs up on the second moon, the men assigned to pore over the transmissions sent by her implant. Zhandar certainly didn’t deserve that. If she pushed things along, then she could leave him before he laid bare any more of his life.
And she could go crawling back to Gabriel, and let him use her as he wished. After what she’d done to Zhandar, it would be no more than she deserved.
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