by Cara Bristol
* * * *
Hurry the fuck up.
Strapped into the seat of the space pod, March waited as dock workers scurried about finalizing the flight prep. The pod couldn’t launch until they cleared the area. He couldn’t get away fast enough.
His chest hurt fiercely. Nanos could ease the constriction and stabbing pain of betrayal, but the microprocessor in his brain held them at bay. Pain would ensure he remembered what a stupid fuck he’d been to trust a second time.
The tenderness and intimacy they’d shared at night side had meant nothing to her. She’d been having one last fling before the bonding. She wasn’t any different from the rest of her people.
So why did she pretend? Why say she loved me? Why tell me she would leave Xenia? Why lie to me again?
She’d agreed to marry him! “It’s you. It’s always been you. You were my first, and you will be my last.” The most sincere-sounding lies he’d ever heard. She’d make a great undercover agent. No wonder she’d been able to fool him.
She’d slipped up a few times, but he’d been so besotted, the truth had flown right over his head. His cyberbrain, able to recall every conversation, replayed words overheard. “When I am empress, you both can expect to find yourselves on the other side of the force field.” She’d uttered those words to the guards when she’d come to visit him in the dungeon. He’d thought she’d been working on his release, and then they would run away together, but she’d planned to stay even then.
He should hate her, but he loved her too much, and the truth refused to be denied: he had only himself to blame. She hadn’t sought him out. He’d volunteered to deliver the ZX7M in hopes of seeing her, and as soon as he had, he hadn’t left her alone. He’d tracked her down to her quarters, kissed her, forced the skimmer to land. What a dumb, love-struck fuck he was.
Her expressions of love, her confessions of her reluctance to rule had seemed sincere. Why go to those lengths? Why not admit she wanted one last screw for old time’s sake? It wasn’t like her people frowned on sexual dalliance. Quite the contrary.
March peered out the window. The workers were wrapping it up. Soon the craft would launch.
I’ll never see her again.
Maybe she did love him some, but in the end, couldn’t desert her people. How could anyone blame her? How could he? To come with him would mean giving up an empire, leaving her family, her people, her planet. She’d said she could be banished. That was too much to expect from one person. He would be giving up nothing.
I offered to stay, become her consort.
Her people would never accept him, and she had to produce an heir, the next emperor or empress—who could not be half alien. For all their outward friendliness and acceptance, the Xenians were xenophobic. Nor were they as nonviolent as people believed. At the first sign of trouble, they had armed themselves. They’d transformed pillaging and kidnapping into a planetary sport.
Did he want to live among these people anyway?
For Jules, he would.
Staying hadn’t been an option offered. In the end, she hadn’t consulted, she’d dictated. Unilaterally made a decision affecting them both. Like the empress she’d been born to be.
“I realized I cannot abdicate my responsibility. I wish to bond with Kur.”
How could she switch gears and accept another man? The separation of emotion from mating and bonding was the Xenian way, but he hadn’t known it was Jules’s way. She wasn’t Jules anymore. Julietta. He had been her first, but despite her promises, he wouldn’t be her last. She’d chosen Kur over him. He’d liked the man when he’d met him, and none of this was Kur’s fault, but blaming him was easy because, despite her betrayal, he couldn’t bring himself to hate her. She’d lied, but he loved her still.
“The only thing that will separate us is death. I would die for you. I would make any sacrifice to save your life.”
Such sweet, false words. The woman he loved didn’t exist. Remember that. Perhaps if he kept reminding himself, one day it might sink in.
The ground crew signaled they’d finished their inspection and cleared the area. The pod would deposit him at the closest AOP space station where he would rendezvous with Carter’s rescue craft.
March lifted his hand to palm the computer screen.
Maybe if he talked to her again, reiterated he’d be willing to live on Xenia. She could rule; he could conduct his Cyber Operations missions. Give us a chance!
The only chance would be a fat one. Her choice had been clear. And if she changed her mind this time, what would prevent another reversal?
He slapped the computer screen harder than required. “Computer, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“I do not understand the command.”
“Launch the pod.”
“Command received. Launch to commence.” The tiny ship vibrated as the engine revved up with a high-pitched whine and then the pod shot out of the dock into a dusky sky darkening to purple.
March contacted Carter. Launch complete. On my way to the space station. He’d request to be assigned as many missions as possible. He’d agree to anything as long as it wasn’t anywhere near Xenia. If he devoted himself to his work, maybe one day he’d be able to forget.
* * * *
The old seer pulled her shawl tighter around her scrawny shoulders. “Why are you still here?”
Julietta had been curled up in bed, crying her eyes out, waiting for a confirmation March had reached the space station, when someone had hailed her repeatedly, refusing to go away. She couldn’t even be alone in her sorrow! Fury had ignited, and she had scrubbed the tears from her face and stormed to the door, intending to excoriate whoever stood on the other side.
Anger deflated to confusion at the sight of the seer.
“I do not understand.” Her eyes felt swollen. She hoped the black streaks of her tears were not visible.
The Terrans called it heartsickness, but grief ached all through her body. A painful throb pounded behind her eyes, her muscles hurt, and her stomach churned. She could not imagine why the seer would pay her a visit, but she hoped she would get to the point. Julietta had to pull herself together and seek out her father so Omax and Kur could be brought to justice. She’d contacted the shuttleport; they were to notify her when March arrived on the space station. Then Omax would rue the day of his birth!
“He did not come?” The seer looked alarmed now.
She massaged her temple in a slow circle. “Who?”
“Your young man from Terra.”
“M-March?”
“He was supposed to take you back to his planet.”
“I chose not to go with him.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons.” Until March was safe, it would be best to say nothing to nobody.
The seer shook her head and laid a palm to her chest. “I sensed something was amiss. I came as quickly as I could.”
Was this a trick? Why was the seer here? A key fixture in Xenian life and revered as much as the emperor, she kept herself apart from the populace, spending more time in communion with the ancients who’d passed than she did with the living. It was unheard of for her to pay anyone a personal visit.
“Your father sought my assistance to secure Mr. Fellow’s release so you and he could be together,” the woman said.
Together with March? Didn’t the seer expect her to bond with Kur? “My-my father? No…” She shook her head in confusion. “Omax’s guards brought him.”
“Omax?” The seer’s mouth curled with dislike. “I think not.” She frowned, creasing her forehead into more wrinkles. “Tell me what happened.”
Julietta would have to risk trusting the seer. She wet her dry lips. “I do not wish to bond with Kur. I-I told my father that. Omax threatened me, saying if I do not follow through, he would have March killed. If I agreed to the bonding, he promised to release him. Omax killed Naimo and plans to take over the empire. I will stop him, but first, I had to ensure March’s safety.”
“No!” Julietta cried. “I sent him away!” He hadn’t been at Omax’s mercy at all. He’d come for her, she’d rejected him and hurt him for nothing.
“If you hurry, you might be able to catch him before his shuttle launches.”
She pushed past the seer and tore down the hall. Please, please, don’t let me be too late.
* * * *
Julietta charged into the shuttleport. It was quiet. Too quiet. Few people were about, and her father’s ZX7Ms, other spacecraft, and a few smaller pods sat idle in slips, none appearing ready for launch. She scanned the dock, searching for a tall man with eyes the color of the Terran sky.
She rushed to a worker who operated a machine, polishing the exterior of a spaceship. “Excuse me. Did a Terran come through here?”
The worker pointed to an empty slip. “Departed ten minutes ago, Princess.”
Gone. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of her mistake. She’d lost him, again making the wrong decision. The world turned bleak and cold, hopeless. She could try to contact March on Terra—maybe Brock or Penelope Mann knew how to reach him—but would he believe her? Trust her? No. And could she blame him? She’d hurt him twice. Her people had locked him up for a crime he hadn’t committed. He had good reason to hate her and every other Xenian.
“Attention, all personnel, craft incoming. Clear the dock. Repeat: craft incoming, clear the dock,” the shuttleport’s computer broadcast into the bay.
The worker switched off the polishing machine. “You’d better move back, Princess. A ship is about to land. We’ve never had one malfunction, but if one came down hard and skidded or caught fire, you could be injured.”
“I’m leaving anyway,” she said, trudging toward the barricade separating the viewing area from the launch bay. She’d experienced sadness before, but a grief more profound than she could have imagined gripped her heart and squeezed. She could hardly breathe.
A councilor, one of the most powerful men on the planet had murdered his own son. Her father, whom she thought oblivious, had been aware of the situation. The seer who should have wanted her to bond with a Xenian instead had pushed her toward March. Whom she’d sent away. When she hadn’t wanted to be empress, the passing of the scepter had been inevitable. Now that she wished to rule to save her people from the likes of Omax and Kur, she would never be accepted. She had no consort. Naimo was dead. The only man she could ever bond with had left, believing she didn’t love him.
Head down, she exited the launch bay as the singsong of a ship’s engines flooded the dock.
Someone grabbed her arm in a biting grip. “What are you doing here?” growled a rough voice. Her head shot up. Omax tightened his hold. Kur, looking far less peaked than he had at the council meeting, stood beside him.
She wrenched out of his grasp, loathing welling up. With March gone, these two had no leverage. “Do not touch me—or speak to me.” She moved to go around them. The seer had said her father needed proof of Omax’s crimes. His confession and his attempt to extort her compliance should be more than enough to convince Omax’s tribe and the council of his guilt. They’d been ready to convict March on far less. By star rise, the traitors would be imprisoned.
Kur spoke. “Our officiant has been called and is ready to perform the bonding ceremony. Under the exigent circumstances, it seemed prudent not to wait.”
Their officiant? The same man who perjured himself and helped frame an innocent man? Julietta curled her lip. “How could you kill your brother? Have you no loyalty?” Though she had rejected Naimo as a consort, she regretted his tragic demise. He’d been an honorable man. The seer might have been able to match him with another woman who could have overlooked his family ties and appreciated his good qualities.
A shuttle pod swooped into the dock and landed.
Kur glanced at his father and puffed out his chest. An evil heart transformed handsome into ugly. “I am loyal to my tribe, the new ruling class of Xenia. Our lineage will endure for a thousand years and beyond.”
A thousand years? They wouldn’t rule for a day. “I’m not producing any heirs with you.”
“We had a deal,” Omax said.
“I don’t deal with murderers and treasonists.” Julietta lifted her chin and brushed past them.
Omax grabbed her again and yanked her around. “We need only your presence, not your consent.” He dragged her toward the door.
“No! Let me go! Somebody help.” Workers had disappeared, having vacated the area when the craft arrived. She pivoted her head, searching for anybody. “Help!” she screamed as Omax dragged her.
Irrevocable, bonding lasted for life. There were no exits, other than death. Neither annulment nor divorce existed. That was another reason why the seer chose one’s mate—because the stakes were so high. Omax couldn’t force her to go through with a bonding, could he? The officiant had lied, but surely he wouldn’t perform the ritual with an unwilling participant. If he did, she wouldn’t be bound to it, would she?
They were almost to the corridor. The noise quieted as the pod’s engines shut off.
“Help! Help!” she yelled again, and struck at Omax with her fist. Before she could blink, he rebounded and slapped her across the face so hard her ears rang. Crack! His backhand caught her other cheek.
“NO!” A man’s roar shattered the quiet.
Omax and Kur jerked toward the sound.
March leaped out of the pod and charged across the bay. He flew over the barricade like it didn’t exist.
“I’ve got this, Father.” Kur drew a long dagger from a sheath strapped to his thigh.
Chapter Twenty-One
The shuttle pod had breached the outer atmosphere on its way into space when Julietta’s words returned to haunt him.
“The only thing that will separate us is death. I would die for you. I would make any sacrifice to save your life.” She’d uttered those words on night side, but when the time had come to go with him, she’d rejected him, choosing to complete the bonding so she could lead her people.
Or had she?
What if? He’d been imprisoned, charged with murder, possibly a capital offense. What if she’d negotiated a deal to save his life? What the fuck if?
If it was so, then he was making the biggest mistake of his life. If a slim chance existed he could be right, he had to find out. March slapped his hand on the control screen. “Computer! Return to the imperial palace shuttle dock.”
“Command overruled. Access denied.”
Here we go again.
As with the skimmer, the ship had been preprogrammed for a specific destination. He activated his wireless, palmed the screen, and hacked into the system. Codes streamed through his cyberbrain. He extracted what he needed, plotted a new course, and increased the speed.
The ship leveled out its ascent, turned, and descended. “New destination set for the imperial palace shuttleport,” the computer said.
“Excellent.” March twisted his mouth. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Doubts didn’t cease. Twice he reached for the screen to reset the course, only to hold off. I have to be sure. He did not want to spend the rest of his life wondering, regretting. Had Jules tried to protect him from some dire consequence? Or had she chosen her people over him? Did she love him so much she’d attempted to save him? Or not love him enough?
Even the seer, in her mysterious way, had seemed to believe they were meant for each other. Could she be wrong, too? She had picked Naimo for Julietta the first time around.
The only certainty was his love for her.
The pod glided into the bay and docked. Impatient now, he couldn’t wait to get off the craft. Una
ble to exit until the engines wound down, he peered out the window.
His heart sank to his toes. Julietta stood in conversation with Omax and Kur. Her back was to him, and though they were a distance away, his cyber-vision allowed him to read the satisfaction on Kur’s face. Smugness. Obviously, he’d gotten good news.
There’s my answer.
Bitterness rose in his throat. At least he’d avoided making a fool of himself again. How many times am I going to let this woman stomp on my heart? Becoming a cyborg didn’t help him learn any faster. But this was the last time. He was done.
The engines shut off, and the hatch hissed open. He wasn’t getting off.
Dock workers would wonder what the hell was going on. The ship leaves. The ship comes back. The ship leaves…he reached for the control screen to reset the launch when Omax slapped Julietta.
Rage propelled him from the craft. March would swear his feet never touched ground. “NO!”
Face twisted with menace, Kur brandished a dagger and charged.
As he sidestepped the thrust, Julietta’s scream distracted him so the blade grazed his ribs, slicing open his shirt, breaking the skin. He retaliated with a blow that sent Kur reeling.
Omax dragged Julietta out of the fray and hooked an arm around her throat, but she didn’t appear to be in danger. Not so, Omax. She stomped and clawed with a wildness he’d never seen. “Let me go!” The older man struggled to hold onto her. The worst thing March could do to Omax would be free Jules and let her at him. “They killed Naimo!” she yelled.
March dropped to a crouch and circled Kur.
“Prepare to die,” Kur sneered, confident of his win.
“You prepare,” he growled. As in the Sha’A’la, the winner of this fight was predetermined. It was tempting to fuck with him, toy with him, but Omax had Jules.
Kur drove forward with the blade to run him through.
Quick on his feet, he shifted, grabbed Kur’s wrist, and sent the blade flying. It landed with a clatter. Kur’s eyes widened in alarm before March grabbed him in a choke hold and cut off his oxygen. His face purpled, and he slumped. March dropped the body. Kur’s head hit the ground with a satisfying smack.
