Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3

by Cherie Singer

  "Everything?" Something that resembled hope flared in her eyes. More than likely, hope that he wouldn't destroy her.

  "I know more than enough! You defied me and that defiance and disobedience killed my son. I Abandoned you to your own shame and dishonor. What the narg are you doing here on my ship? Haven't you inflicted enough misery into my life?"

  "Apparently not." Her face went strangely expressionless, but her eyes stayed wide with an odd glitter. "What else do you remember?"

  Suspicion flared in him, triggered by the hurtful memories. "There's more? What other dishonorable--?" Reality slammed into him and collided with his pride and sense of honor. With the crippling force of a plasma torpedo, the breath whooshed from his lungs. She'd almost had him believing! "The babe!"

  "What--what about him?"

  Wulfe yanked her to her feet. "You dishonored my House by birthing another man's son!" He shoved her away. Rage blazed through his veins. "Did you think a romp in bed would make me ignore the past? Did you believe your womanly wiles would lead me to think we've been together all this time? By all the gods, Cat--whose chain did you wear around your swollen belly to lengthen the reach?"

  He seized the chain around his neck. Links snapped, flew. He held the necklace away from his body for her to see. "It sure as narg wasn't this one! I would remember something like that!"

  "No! That's not tr--" Cat bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Albright's repeated warnings trapped the denial, the truth, in her throat until she thought she'd choke.

  "Garesh take that damnable Lyon. No wonder you two have been so cozy. He's the one! To think I named him friend." Wulfe threw bits of necklace across the room, stalked toward the door. "When I get my hands on that miserable son of a curra--" he spared Cat one last disgusted look, "--he won't dishonor another House in the same manner!"

  Chapter 12

  CAT RACED after Wulfe. She skewed to a stop in the corridor when she realized she wore no clothing. "Damn!" She dashed back into her quarters and shouted from the doorway, "Wulfe! Come back here! Wait! Blast you to the Underworld! Frak!"

  She whirled around, sprinted to the bedroom, skimmed into leather pants and a vest. "Computer, locate Captain Kincade."

  Captain Kincade is on deck five, corridor fourteen.

  Mess hall, gym, rec center. Where the bloody hell was he headed? How determined was he? Cat clipped on her comm tag. "Location of Lieutenant Lyon?"

  Lieutenant Lyon is in the deck five gymnasium.

  Oh, for Creator's sake! Cat tore down the corridor to a lift, darted inside. As big and physically strong as Lyon might be, Wulfe possessed more size and power. "Come on!" she exhorted the lift to move faster. Add rage, fueled by bloodlust, to Wulfe's brawn--Cat shuddered to think of the damage that could result. "Comeoncomeoncomeon!"

  She bolted from the lift car, tore across the corridor. She skidded through the gym doorway. A bloodied and unconscious-looking Lyon slid down the vertical surface of a bulkhead. Wulfe towered over Lyon, reached for him with a blood-reddened hand.

  Cat panicked. "Stop it!"

  "Back off, Cat," Wulfe almost snarled at her, motioned to her with the bloodstained hand. "Don't say a word."

  "Or what? You'll try to put me through a bulkhead, too? Use an airlock--it's easier." She moved between Wulfe and Lyon.

  "You have no idea how tempting that suggestion is or how thrilled I'd be. Get out of my way. This is my right."

  "Now's a fine time to claim your bloody rights. Lyon is not the father of my son or my daughter." She shoved at Wulfe without much effect--might as well try to shove a stubborn, swine-headed mountain.

  "I should take your word?"

  "Yes, narg it, but have Albright do a DNA scan if you don't believe me."

  "So you've turned my own CMO to your side, too."

  "There are no defending sides to this, only the truth!" A hundred different accusations, laments and truths threatened to spill from her. Cat gritted her teeth. Blurting out too much too soon could still do greater harm to Wulfe's mind than good. Sweet Creator, I need strength! Better to have Wulfe take out his anger on her than some innocent friend. "Is that what you were doing a few hours ago? Claiming your rights?"

  She knew their joining had been more than that. She'd felt all his wondrous emotions, but her challenge might keep him off Lyon.

  "That's exactly what I did, wife. No more, no less."

  "Garesh take you, Wulfe!"

  Cat knelt next to Lyon, checked for a pulse, found one. Lyon's glazed eyes opened, closed again. Satisfied, she tapped her comm tag and hurriedly requested a med team from sickbay. She shot a condemning glare at her husband. "You're lucky you didn't kill him, Wulfe. Mykal Lyon is one of the most loyal friends you have in the universe. He's risked his life, his career, and his reputation for you. Nice repayment."

  Wulfe did snarl this time, his lip curling upward in a savage expression. "Is that what you think?"

  "Should I be thinking anything else in view of this?" Cat gestured sharply to the downed security officer. So very carefully, so very deliberately, Cat moved to place herself more directly in front of Wulfe. Maybe she could slow him down if he attacked Lyon again.

  "Think what you will, Cat. You always did, if I recall that correctly."

  "I'd hate to see what you'd do to a person who truly had betrayed you."

  "You will see, firsthand, I assure you." Wulfe watched her without blinking, radiating disgust and resentment. "I'll leave you to him, Cat--for now. Do not make the mistake of thinking this is settled between us. You haven't even begun to pay a fraction of the price for your treachery." He turned away. Two steps later, Wulfe whirled around to face her, his eyes narrowed with determination. "Start making travel plans, Cat. You don't belong on my ship."

  "Want to bet?" she asked softly of his rigid departing back. Cat checked Lyon's breathing, slumped to the floor to await the medical team.

  "Commander, it's not what--" Lyon rasped out, then coughed.

  "Don't talk. That's an order. Just lie still."

  Logically, she understood Wulfe's reactions, but emotionally...how many times must she endure the same nightmare? What did the Creator want from her? Her mother always claimed the Creator never gave a person more than she was strong enough to bear. If that was the case, she didn't want to be strong.

  Cat checked Lyon's pulse again, wanted to straighten his body to a more comfortable position, but was afraid to move him in case something had been broken. She saw him wet his lips, and she shook her head. "I said not a word."

  She hadn't lost that first babe because she'd defied Wulfe and gone to Wikkerd, or because of any carelessness while there. If anything, the spontaneous miscarriage of the deformed fetus almost caused her death in the midst of Wikkerd's rubble. Renewed grief for the lost babe churned inside her, along with a less honorable reawakened resentment toward Wulfe.

  The medical team arrived and quickly determined Lyon could be safely moved. Cat followed them back to sickbay, worrying the entire way over Lyon's condition and her part in it. If she'd handled Wulfe differently, this wouldn't have happened; Lyon would be uninjured. Surprised to find Albright in medical, Cat waited for the verdict on the security chief's condition.

  "Your pacing through sickbay will not hurry the process or change the prognosis," Moira informed Cat in a neutral voice.

  "Keeps me from wrapping my hands around the captain's ungrateful, arrogant neck," Cat shot back.

  Her black hair pulled back in the usual austere bun, Moira watched her for another moment. "You're able to sense emotions again, aren't you? Is the empathic ability remaining stable?"

  "Pretty much." At least she could count on that again.

  "And the bond with the captain?"

  Cat shook her head, more than eager to change the painful subject. "How did Nora come to be here this time of night?"

  Moira looked uncomfortable for the first time. "Doctor Albright left standing orders to be notified about anything regarding you or the
captain. This seemed to qualify."

  "With good reason, from the looks of it," Albright said, entering the central area. "Moira, you can go back to the station and check on our patients there, if you'd like. Catherine, what happened to the lieutenant?"

  "Wulfe. How bad is Mykal?"

  "Our Mister Lyon will recover without complications. He's under the autohealer right now. Why did Wulfe happen to him?"

  Cat sent a few silent blessings to the Creator for the good news. Wulfe could have inflicted more severe damage, given a few extra seconds. She trailed the doctor into her office and gave Albright a rundown on the events.

  Albright leaned back in her chair, propped her feet up on her desk. "Catherine, the fact that the captain is beginning to remember anything is marvelous news. Though I wish he wouldn't batter the personnel so. Tough on morale."

  "Oh, it's bloody wonderful news. So far, he's remembered the worst possible event. The last few months might just as well have never happened. Wulfe knows he Abandoned me, but not that we've reconciled. He doesn't even realize it wasn't my fault that I lost the first baby."

  Nor did he realize she'd kept the truth of the babe's deformity from him to save his pride, his warrior honor. He didn't know the agony she had gone through--the double loss of her son and her husband. Cat bit her bottom lip to keep the laments inside. Whining self-pity accomplished nothing.

  "That will change. He'll remember the good, too."

  "Oh, sure."

  "Suppose you tell me what happened between Lyon and the captain. Maybe I can be a trifle more objective."

  "Mykal is in the shape he's in because Wulfe challenged the honorless of'al who he believed to have sullied the honor of his House by impregnating his legal wife."

  "Oh, my stars."

  "That's not exactly what I said." Cat held her thumb and forefinger a few centimeters apart. "My language was a touch more vile." She moved both hands apart, indicating a much vaster--and honest--distance.

  "I don't blame you. Stars, but the captain is going to feel rotten when he discovers the truth. At least he knows now that he's married to you. I just hope Lyon accepts his apology."

  "What apology?" Cat let out a short, sharp laugh. "You forget, Bellons don't apologize."

  "Oh, that bit of asinine business. I don't know how you cope. Doesn't the Earther side of you ever want to choke a `please' or strangle an `I'm sorry' out of one of them?"

  "The thought has crossed my mind more than once, but in all honesty, I can't remember if I've ever apologized to anyone."

  "Probably not to another Bellon, I'm sure. Catherine, how do you plan to handle this Lyon situation?"

  Bloody good question. Now if she only had the answer. Cat sat on the edge of the desk next to Albright's feet. "I suppose telling Wulfe the whole truth is still out of the question?" Her shoulders sagged and her back bowed, tired of carrying the weight of deception. "Assuming he'd believe me at this point."

  "You know we can't."

  "What if I tried to force my way into his mind? I detest the thought of such a violation, even if I somehow managed to succeed. But if you believe it might work, I'd consider the option."

  Albright ran a hand through her hair, giving new dimension to the spikes. "The shock could send the captain into complete reversal and further denial."

  "That doesn't sound so bad at the moment."

  "Revealed too soon, the information might create catatonia. A personality splinter. Withdrawal. Perhaps, overt aggression."

  Cat groaned. "I think we've done the aggression part already."

  "Moira suggested an archaic method once called hypnotism. The patient is made to feel safe and then regressed to the triggering incident with the hope he remembers spontaneously."

  Cat shook her head, defeated yet again. "The chances that would work are even slimmer than any psychotropic drug succeeding. Bellons were bioengineered to resist all such methods on the off chance they'd be taken as prisoners of war."

  "Didn't know that. I'm out of ideas."

  "So I have to keep the truth from Wulfe and stop him from confronting Mykal again."

  "Hmm. You know, this has me wondering about something."

  "What? How sane Bellons really are?" Gods, don't make this more bad news.

  "I've always puzzled over that one. Seriously, I wonder why the captain would challenge Lyon if he wasn't at least a little jealous and feeling possessive?"

  "Wulfe is Bellon. Honor is all, remember?"

  "Don't exaggerate, Catherine."

  "I wish I were. If nothing else, this last year must have proven the fact to you. That reminds me; Wulfe thinks you've taken my side in this mess."

  Albright paled slightly but shrugged her shoulders in dismissal. "Let him believe what he wants for now. In fact, the captain's jealousy just might be our ticket out of this strange little corner of purgatory in which we've found ourselves."

  "Say again." Had the doctor learned nothing? She'd seen the results of a Bellon's rage firsthand.

  "So far, the captain's strongest reaction has been jealousy, an emotion that came right on top of him whisking you off when you collapsed over on Uhlein. A protective and somewhat possessive reaction to you putting yourself in danger. Seems to me the actions are closely related. This is very interesting. Maybe we can make use of these volatile emotions."

  "Nora, I like you and your quirky sense of adventure, but sometimes you scare the bloody hell out of me."

  Albright brightened. "Why, thank you very much."

  "I'm not joking! Trying to control a Bellon's emotions for a specific purpose is as dangerous as attempting to confine an exploding star. At least when a star explodes, it happens so fast you don't feel the pain."

  "Maybe, but I still think his reactions are saying volumes."

  "But are they shouting the right things?" Her insecurities latched on to that possibility, naturally. Cat couldn't keep hope from trickling through her, despite her pessimism. "A clue? Help me out, here."

  "Okay. We pretty much agree that shock and strong emotion created the problem. Strong emotions may be the natural cure. Right now, short of me going in with a surgiprobe and playing Twenty Queries or a little Hide and Hunt with his neural pathways, I'd say they're our best shot."

  "I am not encouraged." Cat thought back to the scene she'd encountered in the gymnasium. As horrified as she'd been by Wulfe's retaliation against Lyon, some little corner of her mind nagged at her, as if someone kept trying to whisper, but she couldn't hear the words. She had a hard time accepting what she'd seen. "May I talk to Mykal?"

  "Let him sleep through what's left of the night, and he should be fit for duty come day watch." Albright yawned. "Think I'll follow my own advice. You should, too, Catherine."

  "I slept for a while." Warmth suffused Cat's body as she remembered waking in Wulfe's arms, and the result. Gods, she'd missed him. She missed her life, period. She crossed her arms over her upper body and winced. Stars, but her breasts hurt.

  Albright passed a small bioscanner in front of her before she could blink. "Let's give you something to take care of the lactation problem. When the Shania got here, I forgot."

  Cat nodded her agreement and allowed the doctor to use her autoinjector. Her stomach tightened in reaction to the act of finality. The children really were gone.

  Albright used the bioscanner again. "Catherine, remember when you asked about Wheeler's attitude? The fluctuating moods?"

  "Yes, though I'm surprised you do. You didn't seem to take me too seriously."

  Albright looked ill at ease, put away the scanner. "I knew you were right, but I figured with Wheeler leaving, there was no point in exacerbating the situation."

  "So what's the point now?"

  Albright pushed a hand into a trouser pocket and pulled out a palm full of small vials. "This is the point. Housekeeping found them when they went through Wheeler's quarters after he left the ship."

  Cat took one of the dark green vials. A single-use autoinjector formed th
e cap. "Is this what I think it is?"

  "Endorphidrine. One of the most addictive synthetic mood enhancers known, and almost impossible to detect even if you know exactly what to look for."

  "This explains the emotional swings I felt from him. Maybe that's why Wheeler came back to the Falchion earlier. He claimed he wanted to retrieve a keepsake of his mother's."

  The doctor nodded. "Probably didn't think of the evidence until it was too late. Right now, he's probably hoping housekeeping simply tossed the mess. I have to report this in my medical log."

  "I know. I'll make an entry in my executive log. Then it's up to Command to do something. I'm glad I got Fallon away from Wheeler. How long do you think he's been using this garbage?"

  "Hard to say without extensive testing, but I'd say several weeks at least. If it's been longer, paranoia isn't far away. He could believe the entire universe is out to get him. Or a particular person is out to get his job."

  Cat expelled a quick breath. "His reaction to me? Could explain a lot."

  "I could be whistling in the void." Albright nodded to the exit. "You going to get some sleep?"

  "I have a few things to do on the flight deck before the start of day watch."

  "You're going to run yourself right into complete collapse if you're not careful."

  "We just need to get by this hump. Now that the children are safe, I can catch up with all the tasks I've put on hold. Then I'll be able to sleep a full night watch through."

  "You'd better, or I'll demand a medical leave for you."

  CAT SHARED the flight bay with a handful of techs while she reviewed the pilots' activities. What spare time she'd managed to eke out, she'd spent flying with the new pilots. Now she watched highlights of their training flights they'd taken with Lyon and with each other, assessing their weaknesses as well as their strong points. They'd made noteworthy progress.

  Under the activity and concentration, a growing sense of unease invaded Cat. At first she put the feeling down to Wulfe. Somehow she'd believed a session of lovemaking would put all things right, but the truth loomed light-years beyond that.