by Cindy Dees
The lady was intact, her bronze spear tip gleaming dully. Thank God! Tessa looked over at the Greek ship and was shocked to see someone staring back at her fixedly. Hippoclides. If he could’ve stared a hole through her, he would have. As the Greek ship began to list to starboard beneath his feet, he glared at her. Only at her.
Oh, yes. He knew exactly who—and what—she was. Hatred and a promise of death glittered in his preternaturally intense gaze. He was every bit as forceful as Rustam. However, having had no little experience standing up to her personal Centaurian alpha male, she stared back at Hippoclides, her chin high and her gaze defiant.
That’s right, buster. I’m a star navigator, too. Get over it. She let her violet aura flow from within, let it build around her in a whirling display of raw power.
His eyes went wide and he actually staggered back a step in shock.
Or maybe it was just the rapidly sinking ship throwing him off balance. He turned then…and disappeared.
Did he just teleport out? Or maybe he got lost in the chaos of panicked sailors as the deck beneath him slid into the sea.
A voice spoke quietly from behind her. “Everything okay?”
Rustam. What was he doing on his feet again? “You ought to be resting.”
“You powered up and were angry.”
She answered his unspoken question. “Hippoclides was staring at me. I thought I would give him something to think about.”
“Where is he now?” Rustam asked quickly.
“Gone. He might have teleported out, or I could’ve just lost sight of him.”
Rustam was silent for a moment. “No. He’s gone. I can’t sense him anymore.”
“The Greeks will report him lost at sea and be none the wiser,” she commented.
She felt Rustam’s wince behind her. “There’s going to be hell to pay for your little display when I get home.”
She turned quickly to face him. “Really? I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
He grinned weakly at her. “No need to apologize, my love. It’s good for him to meet women like you and Artemesia, who back down to no man.”
Tessa smiled up at him gratefully.
“Go get your piece of the Karanovo stamp. In the bustle to put this ship to rights before the next attack, no one will notice you.”
“Next attack?”
He nodded over her shoulder.
Oh, God. The other Greek ships. They might have lost their leader, but they still outnumbered Artemesia four to one. They would be coming soon.
Tessa turned to have a look at the figurehead. The statue leaned forward, slightly ahead of the prow, as if she were flying. But she appeared sturdy enough. “Block me from view,” Tessa murmured to Rustam.
She climbed carefully up onto the rail using a heavy hemp line for balance. She inched forward and put her hand on the lady’s back. The wood was warm. Vibrating with energy. Tessa shifted her other hand and hugged the statue around the waist. She made the mistake of looking down and saw only water churning beneath the prow. A moment of sick nausea washed over her.
“Steady,” Rustam murmured. He sent her a wave of reassurance, which she gratefully accepted.
She reached forward with her right arm, running her fingers along the smooth bronze spear. The closer she got to the disk, the warmer the statue got. Finally, she wrapped her hand around the triangular piece. A blast of energy tore through her, so intense it nearly knocked her off her perch. She grasped the wedge and gave it a hard twist, bending it to the side. The solid bronze spear shaft bent but did not break. She repeated the maneuver again. It wobbled, but held on. Thankfully, bronze was a relatively soft and pliable metal. One more hard twist, and the spear tip snapped off in her hand.
“Got it!”
“You’d better get down, darling. We’re about to have company.”
She looked up and her jaw dropped as all four Greek ships bore down on them at battering speed. Uh-oh.
Tessa scrambled backward and into Rustam’s waiting arms. He set her down immediately, obviously too weak to support her weight. Wow. He really was wiped out.
“Come about!” Artemesia shouted. “Tell the oarsmen to row for their lives!”
The ship started a ponderous turn, which maybe wasn’t so great an idea. In Tessa’s estimation, they were going to be broadside to the four attackers right about when they got here.
Tessa helped Rustam make his way aft to their little cubbyhole. Artemesia grabbed his arm on the way past. “Give my ship wings, sorcerer.”
“I cannot, my lady.”
Artemesia glared at him furiously. “You must.”
Tessa snapped, “He didn’t say he would not. He said he could not. He’s wiped out from the last time.”
Artemesia turned on her. “Then you do it, witch woman. I command it.”
The queen didn’t need to add that they would all die if they didn’t pull some rabbit out of the hat. And soon. Tessa didn’t have the first idea how to focus the star navigator power into moving this ship forward. And frankly, she had no idea how much of her own power remained after the first spurt of speed. She’d had enough to put on a pretty show for Hippoclides, but that didn’t take much. Nonetheless, the fact remained that they needed to do something.
Tessa thought fast, looking around for what resources were available at hand. The Greek ships were close enough for her to hear their rowing drums, to hear the raucous insults their sailors shouted at the hapless Persian ship they were about to sink.
“Do you have a bow and arrow on board?” Tessa asked urgently.
The terrified captain shook his head, but Artemesia answered, “My hunting bow is below.”
“Get it. And several arrows,” Tessa ordered. For once, the queen didn’t stand on ceremony but nodded and raced below. Tessa turned to the nearest sailors. “Grab these amphoras of oil and pour their contents overboard. All the oil you’ve got. Hurry!”
In short order, eight giant urns were emptying into the sea. As she’d hoped, the water was generally calm enough for the oil to float in a single slick on the surface.
Artemesia thrust the bow into Tessa’s hands. Tessa reached down and tore a long strip of cloth from the hem of her tunic. The Greek ships were getting close now. Close enough to make out individual faces and the fury burning in their eyes.
Frantically, Tessa wrapped the cloth around the end of an arrow and then used it to sop up a puddle of oil that had spilled on the deck. “I need fire.”
Everyone looked around, perplexed. Tessa’s heart sank to her feet. Surely somebody had a lantern or something lit on this ship. She couldn’t believe they all could die for lack of a freaking candle. Her kingdom for a match, dammit!
Rustam stepped forward. He pulled out a small penlike object from his pouch. He muttered an incantation, summoning forth fire, and then he flicked his thumb. The mechanism looked similar to a modern cigarette lighter. A small triangle of blue flame erupted from the end of it.
The sailors around her took a step back, oohing and aahing while she held the cloth-wrapped arrow tip to the flame. It lit instantly. She turned quickly, nocked the arrow and pulled the bowstring to her ear. Murmuring a quick prayer, she loosed the arrow, aiming for the center of the oil slick glistening on the surface of the sea.
The oil caught fire. Not with a spectacular flare, as she’d hoped, but the blaze spread quickly enough; and in moments, a line of flame stretched across the water between them and the Greek ships. It was only a few feet tall but was growing steadily.
The Greek captains shouted frantically. Their oars reversed direction, digging furiously into the water to slow the ships and turn them away from the now deck-high fire before them.
Slowly, slowly, Artemesia’s ship completed its turn and began to creep away. Tessa looked behind them. Smoke rose from the fire, and through the wavering heat waves, the Greek ships ground to a standstill, frustrated in their efforts to destroy Artemesia’s craft.
Tessa became aware of their own shi
p beginning to pick up speed, heading back to the safety of the Persian fleet. They’d made it! Artemesia’s crew began to cheer, and the queen basked in their adulation.
“Take me to Xerxes,” she ordered. “Let him know that a woman struck the first blow at the Greeks and gained the glory of the day. Let the gods see me and know my name!” she shouted.
As the crew celebrated, Rustam stumbled beside Tessa.
“Let’s get you below,” she murmured. “You need to lie down.”
She guided him into the hold, appropriating Artemesia’s bed without hesitation. He stretched out with a sigh and closed his eyes. The crisis past, Tessa became aware of the draped gauze curtains disguising the ship’s rough timbers, of the smell of sandalwood incense, the gentle slap of water on the hull.
And then she became aware of something else. Something hard and hot digging into her palm. She looked down. At long last. The Karanovo Stamp. Or at least a pie-shaped piece of it. The energy flowing through it was incredible, healing and empowering and strengthening.
In sudden inspiration, she pressed the disk into Rustam’s hand. His eyelids fluttered briefly. As she watched, the gray cast to his skin faded, and color returned to his cheeks. His aura turned blue again, then cobalt, then the brilliant royal-blue it usually was. The sunken hollows in his cheeks and below his eyes disappeared, and in a moment, his eyes opened, as alert and aware as usual.
He smiled up at her.
“Welcome back, handsome.”
“Thanks. How are you?”
“I’ve been carrying that thing around for the past few minutes. I’m fine.”
He glanced down at the bronze piece in his hand. “Do you know what this is?”
She looked up at him sharply. “Yes, I know. Do you?”
He laughed shortly. “It’s one of the main reasons my kind came here. We’re under orders to find these pieces—”
He broke off, but she finished quietly for him, “And take them away from mankind. Right?”
He looked up at her bleakly. “Right.”
Their gazes met. She’d been sent here to find the medallion, and he’d been sent here to steal it. There was no way both of them could succeed in their missions. One of them had to fail.
She frowned. “You said one of the reasons you came here was to find this object. What are the other reasons?”
He actually flinched. She mentally braced herself, but nothing could have prepared her for his next words.
“I was sent here to kill you.”
Twenty-Two
Rustam watched warily as Tessa leaped to her feet, nearly hitting her head on the ceiling. She subsided back onto the edge of the bed, sick shock written in every line of her face.
He understood the reasons for his federation’s standing order to kill humans like her, but in this case, he couldn’t possibly obey it. Either way, he owed her an explanation.
He sighed and tried to make her understand. “The Centaurian Federation controls star travel throughout the galaxy. We’re the only race that consistently produces star navigators, and we need to keep it that way if we’re to maintain our position and wealth. When races like yours show a latent talent, we send agents to eliminate those members of the race who carry the star navigator gene. And my dear, without a shadow of a doubt, you have that gene.”
Even if he hadn’t heard her thoughts, he would have been able to read them in the expressions crossing her mobile face. After all we’ve shared? After all we’ve been through together? And it comes down to this?
Aloud, she said, “You made love to me. You made me your consort and gave me your baby. And now you’re going to kill me?”
He exhaled hard, once again between a rock and a hard place. “My duty is to eliminate you from the human gene pool. But do you really expect me to kill you?” He burst out, “I love you, curse it!”
Some of the rigidity left her shoulders. “I love you, too,” she murmured.
He opened his arms and she came to him willingly, plastering herself against him. He loved the feel of her in his arms, loved the tingle of her aura mingling with his. Loved her feistiness, her independence, her intelligence. Hell, he loved everything about her.
If not him, some other Centaurian would most certainly kill her. Especially now that Hippoclides—whom he was sure was Kentar in disguise—knew that she existed.
Desperation coursed through him, the same emotion emanating from Tessa. Why couldn’t everyone just leave the two of them alone? They were terrific together, race and politics and military missions aside.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered against his neck.
He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to hear the words or say the words. He tilted his chin down to kiss her, desperate to stop the inevitable from coming: words of loss and parting.
As always, the moment their lips touched, the magic was there, building between them, larger than either of them, larger than the sum of their individual powers. He plunged his hands into her hair, holding her still for his tongue to plunder her mouth, drinking in her sweetness and tartness and everything that made her special and unique.
“Gods, I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned against her lips.
She laughed ruefully. “I know the feeling.” She wiggled against him, and his body leaped to attention, ready and eager to make love to her. She came to him once more, kissing him voraciously, as if she would devour him whole.
This might be the last time they ever got to do this, and the urgency of it stole his breath away. In response to that thought, she wailed inside his head, echoing his own sentiment exactly. This can’t be the last time!
But what else could they do? He rolled over, drawing her beneath him, pressing her deep into the soft feather tick, following her down into that place that was theirs alone, a place of darkness and starry skies and a towering passion that dared him to even breathe.
He sucked at her lower lip while she nipped at his. Their tongues wrestled in a wet, slippery swirl that sent his lust surging out of control. Her hands skimmed down his torso, gripping his male flesh and about making him jump out of his skin.
“I want you,” she panted hoarsely. “Now.”
He didn’t hesitate. He followed his instinct to make this woman his completely, to brand her forever his, a part of him for all time. He shoved her clothes up. A quick bunching of his own toga, a hard thrust, and her hot, slick flesh encased him fully. Her gasp of pleasure was a spear straight to his heart.
She was his.
His woman. His partner. His love.
She bucked beneath him, wild in her desperation to take even more of him into her. Their desire galloping away with them, he rode her hard, their bodies straining together, riding a wave of passion that swept them up with its power.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
Her feverish eyes opened, and she smiled up at him, every ounce of her love and need for him glowing in shades of violet within her azure gaze. She gripped his shoulders strongly, her nails digging into his flesh. He plowed her harder and deeper, relishing the cries he wrung from her throat, the way she arched as taut as a bow beneath him as ever more intense pleasure built between them.
At the moment of their explosive release, he looked deep into her soul, his own heart completely naked before her. She drank him in, taking everything he was into herself and giving him all she was in return. In that moment, they were one. One spirit. One soul.
And then, as usual, the deep, profound silence of space enshrouded them, as calm and protective as a blanket wrapped gently around them.
Why can’t we stay in this place forever? she sent him.
We would die eventually. Our physical bodies need nourishment. It is from those that our power to come to this place springs.
She responded ruefully, Would that be such a bad way to go?
He sighed. There has to be a way for us to be together. I just don’t know what it is. But I know this. I cannot harm you. It would be like
killing a part of myself.
A long silence stretched out. Is it wrong for me to want you to succeed at whatever you do, even if it’s bad for me and my people? she mentally asked at last.
That startled him. You want me to prevent mankind from gaining star travel?
No! I want mankind to progress as we’re meant to. But I only wish good things for you, too.
Ahh. Yes, I know the feeling. I want you to have success in all you do, as well.
The peace of deep space faded out, and heavy wooden beams wrapped in cloth reappeared around them.
“We’ve only got one piece of the medallion,” she said quietly.
He dug in his pouch and pulled out her arm cuff with its special quartz crystal. “And we’ve got one travel band.”
It was hard to think clearly with his flesh still hot and hard and buried deep inside her, her legs still wrapped around his hips, her bare breasts, freed from the top of her gown, pressing against his chest.
“You take the medallion fragment,” he mumbled. “My people will have other chances to find the remaining pieces of it and take one from mankind. I don’t need the legendary glory of finding a piece of the Karanovo stamp. I have gained glory enough already in my career.” He wrapped her fingers gently around its oblong shape, its otherworldly warmth flaring between their palms. He held out the armband to her, as well. “Here. This is yours, too.”
She stared up at it for a long time without taking it. Then she gently pushed the hand cupping the crystal back toward him. “You take it. With that, you can get home, right? You won’t be stuck here on Earth anymore.”
He flinched. “But if I use it, then you’ll be trapped here in ancient times. You won’t be able to get back to your own world.”
“At least I’m on my home planet. I want you to have the crystal.”
“No!” He jumped up out of bed and banged his head—hard—on the ceiling. He swore violently in Centaurian.
Tessa sat up, setting her gown hastily to rights. He already missed the sight of her breasts, the feel of her internal muscles clenching around him. He already wanted her again with every fiber in his being. How in the hell was he going to live without her?
