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Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

Macon GA 31201

Copyright © 2008 by Liz Craven

ISBN: 1-60504-060-6

Edited by Heidi Moore

Cover by Angela Waters

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: July 2008

Liz Craven

Dedication

Wendy—What can I say? Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for reading and rereading. You’ve been a godsend.

Liz Craven

Chapter One

She hit the wall. Hard.

Only after impact did she register the roar and heat of the explosion behind her. It had to be the retractor. The dilapidated relic was long past due for a massive failure, having been considered an antique decades earlier.

She twisted around for a look at the machine and felt a searing pain in her side coupled with a sudden falling sensation. She hadn’t realized she’d been hanging three meters above the cavern floor, impaled on a metal spike. Wincing more in fear than pain, she clamped a hand over her injured side. Even the simplest injury in the mines might be life threatening.

Her personal concerns fled as she twisted for her first look at the retractor. Smoke and flames belched from its ruptured center, filling the small cavern with an acrid, burning gas. It had split open, scattering central gears around its perimeter along with the remainder of belts and metal housing. Even from a distance, she knew the retractor couldn’t be saved. Despair clenched her stomach. As bad as the machine had been, it was critical to the miners’ safety—and something the Mining Guild ranked low on its priority list.

As Lia struggled to her feet, she watched her fellow miners begin pushing the retractor’s carcass towards the ledge. She had spent the past two shifts dangling from that ledge and scraping precious ore from the crevices in the side of the cliff. Ignoring her body’s protest, she made her way towards the group.

Though the cavern was small, by the time Lia reached the others, the retractor had disappeared over the cliff’s edge with a creaking groan. Peering over the ridge, she watched it fall until it disappeared from sight. It would drop at least five kilometers before it struck ground.

The miners stood as somber as a funeral gathering, staring into the dark void below them. The retractor was critical to their safety and now it was gone.

5

Lia finally broke the silence with a whisper. “What happened? One minute I was unstrapping my harness and the next I was across the cave.”

Gentle hands began prodding at her side. “You need to sit down.”

She turned to find Lynaya studying the bloody wound. Surprise quickly gave way to concern at the sight of the elderly woman. Not only did Lynaya’s age make her a hindrance inside the mine, but she possessed the only healing skills on the moon. Gods knew the Guild wouldn't pay for medical treatment. Those skills were too valuable to be risked in the mines where death came easy.

While she sat on the ground out of deference to the wise woman who kneeled beside her, Lia continued to stare at the void where the retractor had vanished. “Is anyone else injured?”

Lynaya didn’t pause in her examination. “No.”

“But we had two miners over the ledge,” a new voice clarified. Lia closed her eyes as Monteg squatted next to Lynaya. “Who?”

“If I’d wanted her to know about them, I would have told her,” Lynaya snapped.

“Talle and Misha,” Monteg answered, sounding more subdued in the face of the healer’s displeasure.

Lia pictured the two boys in her mind. Identical twins, they had been full of life and humor. Too young to work anywhere but in the mines, the two had spun wild tales about the riches they would earn and the adventures they would have when they were old enough to work at the Guild-run, gambling port of Kastal City. Now those futures were gone.

“We have to tell their family,” she said quietly.

Monteg shook his head. “We can’t. The explosion caused the entrance to collapse. The whole tunnel filled in.”

Resignation tinged his voice, and Lia immediately understood the seriousness of the situation. The Guild had gotten rich off xyreon ore and richer off the exploitation of the miners, but a new, more efficient power source had come onto the market almost three decades earlier. As more and more worlds adapted to the new source, the price of xyreon ore plummeted.

6

Liz Craven

As a result, the Guild had directed its energies and resources into other areas. Kastal City was one of its greatest successes. It offered easy access to League citizens while not being subject to all those irksome laws and police forces. Gambling, entertainment, and prostitution were its main attractions, and the Guild raked in the credits. With Kastal City bringing in so much, they invested little on the mines. The Guild often decided reopening collapsed mines would cost more than the ore in it was worth, choosing to leave the miners sealed within.

“Makes you wish you’d gone to work in the City, huh?” Monteg offered a weak grin.

“What? And give up all this?” Lia replied, hoping her smile didn’t look as forced as his.

Most female miners had jumped at the chance to work in the City. Those who remained in the mines were either disfigured or were in hiding—like her. Lynaya pressed a cloth against Lia’s side. “Hold this in place. Keep pressure on it,”

she instructed.

Lia winced and nodded. “What are you doing in the mine?”

Lynaya was the only healer in the camp. If the Guild left them to die, Lynaya’s loss would hurt the rest of the miners for a long time to come. Not only would they lose her healing skills, but her occasional ability to know things before they happened—a talent that had likely saved more miners than her medicinal treatments.

“I wanted to talk to you and knew we’d have time in here,” Lynaya explained.

“Oh, we’ve got time,” Monteg grumbled as he sat heavily on the ground beside Lia.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives.”

“It will only take them an hour to dig us out,” Lynaya replied.

“It will take longer than that for them to do the cost-benefit analysis on whether to rescue us,” Monteg shot back.

Lynaya settled beside them. “They are already working to free us.”

Monteg gave his usual scornful snort in response to one of Lynaya’s predictions.

“No doubt they are rushing to rescue a handful of mine rats.”

“What did you want to discuss?” Lia interjected to forestall their budding argument. She didn’t want to focus on her impending death.

7

“Your destiny.”

“Mine rats don’t have destinies,” Monteg pointed out. He wasn’t trying to start an argument, but merely stating the way of life in the mine.

“We don’t,” Lynaya agreed. “People who come to work in the mines are running from their pasts. We had our chance and lost our destinies. But Lia isn’t running from her past. She’s running from her future.”

“Hard to run from anything when you’re buried in a collapsed mine,” Monteg sniped.

Lia laughed. Only miners lived such a hard life that even a slow, looming death couldn’t hurt their sense of humor. “He has a point.”

“I’m giving you advice, girl. I suggest you listen.”

Out of respect for the older woman, Lia refrained from rolling her eyes. Lynaya loved to give advice and tended to wax on and on with vague gibberish cloaked under the veil of so-called soothsaying.

“Might as well,” Monteg drawled. “We haven’t got anything else to do.”

The last thing Lia wanted to do was sit through one of Lynaya’s long-winded lectures. Hoping to create a distraction, she leaned back and scanned the cavern. “Did the water trough survive the cave in?”

Monteg leaned back as well. “Looks like debris is covering half of it. I’ll check and see if any water’s left in the other half.”

He lumbered to his feet and shuffled off in the direction of the trough. Lynaya patted her knee fondly. “Your future is now.”

So much for putting off Lynaya’s prattling. “I see.”

“No, you don’t, but you will,” the crone replied with a conviction that made Lia uneasy.

Monteg reappeared with two battered metal cups in his hands. He handed one cup to each of the women before sitting back down. “The remaining part of the trough is about half full.”

8

Liz Craven

Lia wrapped a hand around the warm metal. In the dim light of the cavern, she couldn’t make out the amount of liquid in the cup. She raised it to her lips and took a careful sip. The water was warm and metallic in taste, but it was wet. She tilted her head back and stared at the weak light filtering down from the overhead bulb. The sweltering heat had sweat pouring down her back. It was a good sign. When she stopped sweating, she would be dehydrated and facing the very real probability of heat stroke.

A deep breath filled her lungs with the taste of roasting air and dirt, a flavor unique to the mines of Tmesis. She set the cup down on the packed earth beside her and awkwardly tore a strip of cloth from one of the layers of clothing she wore. Lynaya anticipated her next action and placed a gentle hand over the makeshift bandage at Lia’s side to hold it in place. With a deft maneuver, Lia wrapped the strip of cloth around herself and tied it off. After adjusting the many layers of her protective clothing to cover the area, she lifted the cup for another sip of fetid liquid.

“Did you tell Lia about your latest ‘vision’ or whatever?” Monteg asked.

“She did,” Lia rushed to assure him, still hoping to cut off Lynaya’s prattling. She figured they had enough air to last about six hours, and she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life listening to Lynaya's “predictions”.

Monteg sat back down with loud groan, and two of the other trapped miners came to join them.

“Well, Lynaya, looks like your visions ain’t working any more if you’re trapped in here with the rest of us,” Tila told her, settling cross-legged beside Monteg and running a seductive hand along his thigh. “Well, handsome, how do we want to spend the last hours of our lives?”

Lia bit back a laugh and exchanged a knowing look with Lynaya. Tila had been pursuing Monteg since Lia had arrived on the moon, and Monteg had been struggling to avoid her for the same length of time.

Xavier knelt beside Tila and glared at Monteg. While Tila chased Monteg, Xavier chased Tila. With the tension brewing between the members of the bizarre triangle, Lynaya’s jabbering suddenly looked good.

9

“Lynaya told me that my future is now,” she said to the group.

“No shit,” Xavier said with a laugh. “All our futures are now…and for the next few hours.”

Lynaya wagged a bony finger at him in a threatening gesture that seemed absurd coming from such a frail, old woman. “Mark my words, young man. They will have us out within the hour.”

Relief lit Xavier’s and Tila’s faces. Most miners were a superstitious lot and considered Lynaya’s words sacrosanct. Monteg and Lia’s healthy doubt of much of her

“talent” put them in the miner minority. While everyone’s attention was fixed on Lynaya, Monteg shifted away from Tila’s exploring hand.

“I’m awfully relieved,” Tila announced. “The Guild hasn’t dug out a collapsed mine in over a year.”

“This time, they are digging for Lia,” Lynaya continued. “It is time for her to embrace her destiny.”

“Ah,” Tila and Xavier chorused looking at Lia with respect. Uncomfortable with their scrutiny, Lia focused on Lynaya. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You are no longer the child you were before you came here.”

Great. Her future was now and she was no longer a child. No wonder Lynaya never found her way off the hellish moon. “I’m all grown-up now,” she agreed, humoring the healer.

“No. You still have some growing to do. You haven’t yet realized while you must fulfill your destiny, you control your fate.”

“I see,” Lia said quietly, though she had no idea what the crone meant. A glance around showed Monteg’s humor and Tila and Xavier’s awe.

“No, you don’t. But you will. Just remember who you are rather than who you were,” Lynaya said, patting Lia’s knee with awkward affection. Unsure how to respond, Lia opted to stretch out on the hard ground. The wound in her side burned in protest and the hard, pointed rocks pressed into her spine. She ignored the discomfort and stared at the domed rock ceiling of the cavern. 10

Liz Craven

The feeble light washed the cavern in deep shadows that played along the ceiling and walls. When she first began working the mines, she’d often stared at the shadows and sought images in their shapes. She’d forgotten that game. Looking at the ceiling today, those same shadows seemed threatening and ominous. Aware of the eyes fixed on her, she repressed a shudder. Lynaya’s ambiguous words hovered in the air above her like a living, sinister thing.

Time crawled slowly forward, and the heat seemed to increase exponentially with the inactivity. When Lia labored to gather ore, the heat buzzed about her like an annoying bug, but the idleness of waiting made her more aware of the oppressive temperature of the mines.

She considered removing some of her protective clothing, but decided against it. In the unlikely event of a rescue attempt, she would need whatever protection against flying rocks and debris the clothes afforded. Having already suffered one severe injury, she didn’t need another.

Lia closed her eyes to shut out the shadows, but a tremor beneath her back had them flying open. She half-raised herself to a sitting position, watching the meager, suspended light fixture above her swing violently in response to the vibration. “What was that?”

“I told you,” Lynaya repeated calmly. “They are coming for you.”

That didn’t sound very comforting.

Tila looked alarmed. “But what are they doing? It should take hours for them to dig us out. At this stage of digging, we shouldn’t feel them coming.”

“They aren’t digging us out,” Lynaya responded calmly. “They are using explosives to get to us quickly.”

“Explosives?” Xavier gasped. The Guild was too cheap to use explosives to clear a mine. If they chose to rescue them, they would have miners dig them out by hand—when they weren’t working a shift in the other mines.

“Prepare yourself,” Lynaya told Lia. “Your time has come.”

11

Chapter Two

The Guild rep yanked Lia into the room with enough force to snap her head back. His bruising grip gave her no chance to resist. Not that she would. The rep held the power of life and death over the miners. Only a fool would publicly defy him. Admittedly, she was often foolish, but Lia prided herself on not being a fool.

“You will pay for this,” he hissed, spittle spraying her ear. Her mind raced. She could think of nothing she had done to warrant the rep’s rage. Nothing recent, anyway.

The room stopped teetering as she regained her balance. She straightened, pride forcing her to her full height. Tall for a miner, Lia looked the rep in his eye. It infuriated him to stand eye-to-eye with a woman, and she took a small pleasure in annoying him. The Powers knew there was little enough enjoyment in a mining camp. The rep glared at her, but beneath the hate and anger blazing in his eyes, Lia recognized fear. That fear had her stomach clenching. If the monster was frightened, things were bad, and he was going to make her suffer for it. His eyes cut quickly back to the center of the room. She followed his gaze. Four men wearing the black body armor of League soldiers stood in the harsh light of the rep’s office.

“This is the woman from the mining camp,” the rep announced. The supplicating tone told her these men were important. Soldiers without promise, the screw-ups, patrolled the League’s border in this section of the quadrant. A few shillings in the right hand kept the Guild free from any League entanglements. But he wouldn’t be able to buy these men. She would have known that without the rep’s appeasing manner. The soldiers before her were warriors, large, hard-bodied and deadly.

And they were looking for her.

12

Liz Craven

She fought to stave off panic as the rep dragged her across the room to stand before them. Prayers from her childhood training skittered across her brain. There had to be a way out of this. A way to avoid being identified. She needed to think, to find a way. She’d cheerfully face the rep’s wrath rather than let these men take her back.

“The League appreciates your assistance in this matter,” one of the soldiers replied, his voice cold, crisp and condescending.

Lia’s eyes, accustomed to the dark mines, burned under the harsh office light. Blinking the tears back, the face of the speaking soldier wavered briefly, before coming into focus.

Her heart stuttered, and she managed to keep her jaw from dropping. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse—or any better, she wasn’t sure which. His face was leaner than she remembered, giving his cheekbones a sharp edge. He had lost the soft features of a young man. The roundness of his cheeks had faded, making his square jaw more pronounced and giving him a determined look. He regarded the rep with gray eyes, the color of melted xyreon ore when light struck it. Unlike the ore, however, his flinty eyes were ice cold. The world “ruthless” flitted across her mind and a shiver danced down her spine.

His body had been long and lanky when she had last seen him, but the man before her was not the awkward boy she once knew. His chest had filled out, making him easily three times her width. His upper torso tapered to a lean waist. Body armor hugged trim hips and strong legs. The red emblem of an elected planetary official gleamed on his shoulders.

He barely glanced at her, and the feeling of disappointment that swept over Lia surprised her. She hadn’t wanted him to recognize her and had no business feeling hurt because she had gotten her wish.

As she studied him, he glanced at a soldier behind him and jerked his chin in her direction. A man with blond hair and the flush of youth still in his cheeks stepped towards her. He smiled at her—the first courtesy ever offered to her in the rep’s office—

and extended his arm.

“This will only take a moment,” the young soldier assured her.

13

Staring at the device he was holding, Lia took a cautious step back. The rep still had a death grip on her arm—her fingers were going numb—so the step was small, but it was enough for the soldier to hesitate.

“What is that?” she demanded, relieved she sounded angry rather than panicked.

“It won’t hurt.” His tone was polite, if condescending, but he didn’t lower the device.

“What ‘won’t hurt’?” Lia snapped out.

The young man actually blushed. “It’s a simple DNA scan. It will take less than five seconds, and you won’t feel a thing.”

This time Lia wrenched her arm free from the rep as she leaped backwards.

“Absolutely not.”

“I promise it won’t hurt,” the youth reassured her.

“I said no.”

Then he spoke, and he had the audacity to sound amused. “Madam, we are looking for someone. The DNA scan will help narrow our search by eliminating you. We will compensate you for your time.”

She snorted. Even if they gave her money, the rep would be the one “compensated”

for her time. “I still refuse.”

“We must insist.”

Ignoring the furious glare of the rep, she stood her ground. “Under League privacy laws, a DNA scan cannot be compelled unless an individual is under arrest. Am I under arrest?”

He lifted an eyebrow. She resisted the urge to reach up and yank it back down.

“You are not under arrest—” he conceded.

“Then I am free to refuse the scan.”

“Neither are you in League territory,” he continued. He gestured towards the youth.

“Caden.”

Lia’s stomach sank. They had her. League laws meant nothing on Tmesis. The only thing she could do was endure the scan with dignity. The young soldier stepped forward, pointing the scanner at her. 14

Liz Craven

Dignity be damned. With fury fueled by fear, Lia kicked out, knocking the scanner from the unsuspecting soldier’s hand. She spun and darted for the door. She didn’t make it three meters, before slamming into another one of the soldiers who had circled around to block her path with inhuman speed. Her breathing hitched when she took in his glowing red eyes, wide-spread jaw, and sharp pointed teeth. An Inderian. A proud and fierce race of warriors steeped in tradition, blood feuds, and honor. If their inherent skills weren’t enough to inspire fear in those they met, the rumors of ritual sacrifice and cannibalism were. They rarely left their home system, but those who did usually hired out as assassins.

Were the soldiers seeking her out to ensure her death?

The Inderian turned Lia to face the others, lifting her completely off her feet to do so, and she hated that her face was flushed. The impromptu flight embarrassed her. Where did she think she was going? There weren’t a lot of hiding places on a barren moon. Especially when you needed pesky little luxuries like water. Fortunately, the dirt and grime smearing her face hid her blush. At least she hoped they did. He stood in the same place, his arms crossed and that infuriating eyebrow still cocked, making no effort to hide his amusement.

Caden held the scanner again, his gaze flicking back and forth between Lia and his commander who met Lia’s narrowed eyes for a brief moment before nodding. Caden approached her cautiously, like drawing near a nest of vipers. Lia felt a crazy urge to laugh. The Inderian held her immobilized. She could barely turn her head, much less attack a trained soldier. She wasn’t fooling herself. The only reason she’d succeeded in kicking him before was the element of surprise.

No miner in their right mind would attack a League soldier. Lia supposed that meant she was no longer in her right mind. Not that it mattered, seeing how they were probably going to kill her.

She had feared for her life for as long as she could remember and had half-expected to feel relief at finally facing death. She didn’t. She was pissed-off, plain and simple. And under the anger, her heart ached that the one good thing she remembered from childhood—this cold and amused man—was an illusion.

15

An illusion that was probably going to kill her.

Caden pressed a button and a beam of orange light moved over her. The crucial procedure took mere seconds. The light disappeared, and Caden began inputting data into the scanner.

Scrapping together what little dignity she had left, Lia addressed the Inderian. “You can release me now.”

A nod from their leader, and she found herself standing on her own two feet. The Inderian shifted behind her and she knew he prepared to catch her if she bolted. He needn’t have bothered. With the scan completed, she felt oddly resigned and drained of energy. With her anger gone, the long day, the cave-in and her injury finally caught up with her. Not to mention the strain of the last five minutes. She wanted to sit down. Actually, she wanted to curl into fetal position. She did neither. A pair of boots stepped into her field of vision and she looked up into the face of the man from her past.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” The brisk tone lacked warmth, but Lia sensed he was trying to be kind. Her anger had amused him. She wondered if her dejection bothered him.

She decided to answer his question honestly. “Yes, it was.”

He blinked, and she realized she had surprised him. Instinctively, she knew very little surprised this man.

He inclined his head politely. “I apologize for the inconvenience.” He hesitated before dropping his voice to prevent the rep from overhearing. “We only seek to find a missing person. The scan will be used to eliminate your DNA as a match for hers. Once done, you will be free to go. We will not be passing scan results on to authorities or storing them in any public database. Your privacy and secrets will remain intact.”

He thought her a criminal afraid of being caught. She was about to surprise him again.

He turned away from her, dismissing her. “Caden, I believe we have taken up enough of this young lady’s time. Record her as a non-match and reset the scanner for the next subject.”

16

Liz Craven

“I can’t,” Caden sounded nervous.

“You can’t? The scanner is malfunctioning?”

“No, sir. I just ran and reran a diagnostic on it. I also ran the results four times,”

Caden rushed to assure him.

“Then what seems to be the problem?”

“There’s no problem. It’s just that…” He hesitated.

“That what?” the commander barked.

“I’m a match,” Lia said wearily. “I’m your wife.”

*

Talon’s world tilted, before slowly righting itself. The roaring in his head subsided as he turned to look at the small woman who had uttered such quiet, yet momentous words.

“She’s right, sir. She’s a match.” Caden’s voice turned reverent. “We’ve found her.”

Until that moment, Talon had not realized he never truly expected to find her. But whatever he had anticipated, it was not the small, filthy woman who stood huddled in rags before him with a fading fire in her eyes.

She was shorter than predicted, the top of her head reaching only to his shoulders. Her head was wrapped in a ragged cloth, and he wondered if she had shaved her head as many miners did to keep cooler in the mines. Her body appeared shapeless in the heavy, protective clothing she wore. Dirt and grime smeared her heart-shaped face, making her skin blend with the filthy, drab clothes.

Her brilliant, starburst eyes seemed out of place in such a nondescript package. The outer iris burned with the color of blue flame, while the inner iris, surrounding her pinprick pupils, was an unusual yellow-gold. The emotion blazing in those uncommon eyes surprised him. Fury and fear had warred within their depths while she fought like a wildcat against a simple DNA scan. Now her eyes reflected a despair and resignation that made him want to comfort her.

“Who is this person, Lia?” The rep asked, sounding confused and worried.

“Talon Dhakir, First Minister of N’yota.” Her voice was devoid of emotion.

17

Talon carefully kept his face blank. If she knew his title, she had to be following current events on N’yota. How had she come to be stranded here? Why had she not sought to contact them? Had she been unable to call for help?

He pushed the questions aside. None of that mattered right now. She was safe and would return with him to fulfill her destiny.

Aware of the Guild rep’s presence, he chose his words carefully, hoping to reassure her. “Damaia, we have come to take you home.”

To his surprise, anger flared in her starburst eyes, and she responded in a clipped tone, “Indeed.”

The Guild rep took advantage of the momentary pause that followed her short response and grabbed her. The man’s shocked expression was almost comical when Talon’s soldiers drew blasters on him.

The sight of the rep’s fingers biting into Lia’s arm caused rage to rush up, almost choking Talon.

“Take your hands off her,” he bit out, letting that rage infuse his voice. The rep jumped back, his hands held up. “I meant no offense,” he sniveled, an amazing feat given the man’s size and deep baritone. “The Guild would never knowingly shelter a League fugitive, and we willingly surrender Lia to your custody.”

The rep’s ingratiating attitude and outright lie had Talon speaking through gritted teeth. “Her ladyship is no fugitive.”

“Lady—” The rep’s mouth dropped open and panic showed on his face. Titles were rare within the League and usually synonymous with power. When the Guild learned the true extent of this miner’s title and power, the rep’s days would be numbered. That suited Talon fine.

Dismissing the rep, he turned back to the Damaia, offering her his arm. “Lady Ophelia, allow me to escort you to our transport. Once we dock with the Wrath of Aegir, we can break orbit within an hour.”

“My name is Lia, and I am not leaving without my things.”

He expected her to be excited, even joyous at her rescue. He didn’t understand the hollowness of her voice and obvious lack of enthusiasm at the prospect of returning 18

Liz Craven

home. He did understand pride, and for that reason he refrained from telling her she would no longer have need of mining clothes or tools. Anything she needed would be provided for her.

“I’ll have her things brought to your transport,” the rep offered.

“I will get my own things, and I want to cash out my credit account,” Lia announced before Talon could respond.

He hoped the irritation on her face indicated her returning spirit. “We will escort Lia to her lodgings, while you obtain her credits.”

Lia shook her head. “I want to wait for the credits.”

“Then we will wait.” Talon gave the rep a pointed look. The rep fled the room with such haste he almost tripped over the doorway. Talon studied the woman before him. Their fates had been intertwined since the day she was born, and he desperately wanted answers to the questions that had plagued him over the fourteen years she had been missing. However, the answers to those questions might impact his home world’s security, and he knew the rep would have wired his office for sound and image. The questions would have to wait. Instead, he gave Lia an abbreviated bow, believing a formal acknowledgment of her position would help convey the fact she was being rescued. He received a glare for his effort.

Tamping down his annoyance, he decided to introduce the soldiers with him.

“Damaia—”

“Lia.”

“Lia,” he corrected. “May I present Vardin of the Inderian Motherland.”

Vardin saluted, raising his arm across his torso and thumping his chest with his right fist. Lia nodded at him. She showed no fear, looking the warrior directly in his eyes. Talon knew that impressed Vardin. Hardened human soldiers often trembled in his presence. That this short female would meet his eyes earned her a small measure of the Inderian’s respect.

Talon gestured to the silent soldier behind him. “This is Thane Msaka of the Central Alliance.”

19

Thane stepped forward, saluted, and moved back into the shadows to stand with an air of boredom, despite his unnatural stillness. Talon wasn’t fooled. Thane’s sharp eyes missed nothing, his reflexes deadly.

“This is Caden of N’yota.”

The youngest soldier all but leaped forward. “Damaia, I am honored to be one of the chosen who brings you home.” In his enthusiasm, Caden forgot to salute. “Damaia, you shouldn’t worry about a few mine credits when you have the wealth of N’yota at your disposal.”

Talon felt, rather than saw the Damaia stiffen. Her face was turned away from him, but whatever her expression, it had Caden taking a sharp step back. His smile faded.

“I do not care to leave my hard-earned credits in the hands of the corrupt.” The soft tone delivered the words with a punch.

Fortunately, the rep reappeared, saving Caden from having to respond. Without preamble, he rushed forward and shoved an envelope into Lia’s hand. Lia opened the envelope, and to Talon’s amusement, began counting the credits. Her actions showed a fundamental understanding of Guild operations. He waited patiently for her to finish counting her earnings, knowing it would all be there. The rep’s intelligence was in question, but he wasn’t suicidal.

Lia reinserted her credits. “It’s all here.”

“Caden, Vardin and I will escort you to your lodgings. Thane will wait with the rep,”

Talon knew Thane would understand the unspoken order to question the rep. From the look on the rep’s face, he understood Thane’s orders as well. Lia gave a brief nod and left the office without a word. The three soldiers followed her into the barren heat of the moon.

It took fifteen minutes to walk to the miner’s shanty town. Even though the terrain was flat, the wind kept the moon’s red sand kicked up, effectively blinding them to the buildings they approached. The sand obscured their vision to the point Caden even bumped into the first structure they passed. The hot sand scoured their skin like a sandblaster. Talon wondered if he’d have any exposed skin left by the time they reached 20

Liz Craven

her living quarters. Despite the conditions, Lia lead the soldiers unerringly to the front of her lean-to.

The door hung loosely on the jamb, more propped against the building than shut. The interior of the shanty acted as a barrier against the howling wind, but its metal construction amplified the heat.

Talon shoved his eye shields up on his head and blinked errant grains of sand from his eyes. Lia stepped to the center of the room and pulled a string hanging from the ceiling. Weak light filled the room.

Even his earliest childhood memories, those of life during the war, didn’t contain the squalor in which the Damaia lived. A thin mat lay against one wall, a ratted blanket folded on top of it. A makeshift pillow made from rags sat on one end of the mat. What appeared to be a change of clothing lay folded on top of the blanket. The floor lacked any covering. Several thin metal pipes leaned in the corner. A ewer of water and a cracked bowl sat next to the mat. The far wall had an even rattier blanket spread across something of indescribable shape.

Vardin gave the room a cursory glance before returning to stand guard outside. He closed the door behind him, reducing the wind’s roar to a rumble. Lia stood frozen in the center of the room, the light cord swaying above her. She turned those strange eyes to him. “How did you find me?”

“There is a locator chip implanted in the nape of your neck. Unfortunately, it is not a long range transmitter. We had to use probes to find the signal. The search was further complicated by the xyreon ore which interferes with the transmission,” Talon explained. Her hand flew to the back of her neck. “A transmitter?”

He thought he understood the reason for her anger. He was furious himself. “There is no excuse for what you have suffered. More protective measures should have been taken.”

Fury etched her features. “They implanted a chip in my neck? I’ve been tagged?

Liked a pet?”

“It was a security measure designed for your protection,” he replied. He hadn’t considered she would be offended by the device, but her feelings on the matter were

21

immaterial. Her security took precedence over her emotions. He wanted to drive that point home, but refrained, aware of Caden’s presence. Caden was eager, but he had a mouth that ran like a mountain brook. He would have to shelf the discussion of her safety until they were alone.

She sneered at him, and he had the random thought that her ability to communicate without speech would serve her well in politics.

Lia knelt beside the lumpy blanket, her movements jerky with anger. She used one hand to flip the blanket back, revealing several pieces of ornate glasswork.

“Where’d you get those?” Caden breathed, as Lia began gathering the pieces onto the blanket.

She shrugged. “I made them.”

That surprised Talon. Even in the dim light of the shanty, he saw the work was intricate and detailed. He moved closer to study the pieces as she lifted them.

“How’d you do that?” Caden asked skeptically.

Lia gestured towards the pipes with the piece in her hand, a N’yotan firebird in full flight. “With those.” A wry smile touched her lips. “Tmesis is nothing but sand and heat, and that’s all you need to create glass.”

Talon watched her movements smooth out, noting that talking about her art calmed her anger. He filed that piece of information away. The more he knew about what she held important, the better.

Talon grabbed the other blanket from her pallet and knelt beside her to help her

“pack” her work. “How do you get the sand hot enough to melt?”

“The exhaust system from the mining equipment gets hot enough to melt the sand around the vents. I gather the molten material on the end of a pipe and work with that.”

“What about the colors?” Caden persisted.

“I roll the gather in ore, and use the exhaust’s heat to melt them together.”

“Gather?”

“The molten glass I ‘gather’ on the end of the pipe.”

“Clever,” Talon mused, holding up an abstract piece that swirled with vibrant colors. 22

Liz Craven

The genuine smile she shot him both surprised him and left him absurdly pleased—

and not only because she had all her teeth.

Talon handed the blanket he had used to pad several fragile pieces to Caden. He rose and extended his hands, indicating Lia should pass the bundle she held to him. She hesitated briefly, but passed it to him.

She picked up the change of clothes from her pallet and surveyed the room. “That’s everything,” she stated quietly.

He reached out to the pipes in the corner. “Don’t you want these? We can have better tools made for you, but it would probably help to have the originals to gage size and weight.”

The look on her face was beyond astonishment. It was shock. “You mean to work with when we return to N’yota?”

“Of course,” Talon felt he was missing something important but for the life of him had no idea what that might be. “Do you want to take them?”

Lia nodded, her gaze flicking over the room, and Talon tucked the rods under an arm. She turned and met him with an expression he could only define as “resolved”.

“I’m finished here,” she announced. “But I have one more stop to make.”

23

Chapter Three

The shuttle door lowered with a hiss, revealing a sterile docking bay. Accustomed to the sweltering heat of Tmesis, the moderate temperature of the bay raised chills on Lia’s skin. She wanted to wrap her arms around herself to hold in heat, but the ship’s lighter gravity made her clumsy, and she grabbed the rail for support as she descended the ramp. At the base of the ramp, Lia released the rail and stumbled. Talon caught her elbow in a gentle grip. Her pride demanded she walk across the bay on her own, but she admitted to herself she would fall on her face if she tried. Letting Talon support her was the lesser of the two evils.

She found herself strangely resentful of his solicitous manner. He had not objected when she demanded to see Lynaya before leaving, and after an initial scan of the area, had even stepped back to allow her privacy during the conversation. Her eyes misted as she recalled her last meeting with the wise woman.

Lynaya had initially refused to take her credits, relenting only when Lia insisted the funds be used to purchase more medical supplies. The pieces of glasswork had been easier for the elderly woman to accept. She appeared touched Lia wanted her to have the objects she had created. Despite the sentimental attachment, Lia knew Lynaya wouldn’t hesitate to barter them for needed supplies if the opportunity arose. Lia hoped the opportunity would arise.

She blinked the moisture back and forced her mind to deal with the situation at hand. She would mourn the loss of her friends and freedom later. Talon halted abruptly, and Lia found herself teetering. Much to her relief, she steadied herself before falling on her face or being caught by Talon. Caden and Thane, who had been walking ahead of them, stopped after triggering a beam of brilliant blue light. The two paused as the light washed over them, leaving the faint scent of ozone in the air.

24

Liz Craven

“Decontamination,” Talon explained in a low voice. “The beam is faster and more effective than the showers were.”

Decontamination showers had been standard practice aboard ships when Lia had left N’yota. Individuals boarding a ship stood in a three meter square room while various decontamination treatments were administered. The process took upwards of fifteen minutes.

The beam method appeared significantly faster. Caden and Thane had simply paused beneath the beam, which bathed them in blue light for mere seconds. The light turned off and the two moved forward, exiting the docking bay.

Talon led her forward, indicating where she was to stand. He waited until she gained her balance before releasing her arm and stepping into place next to her. Lia heard the faint hum when the scan began. Her skin tingled beneath the beam, and the docking bay appeared to turn a bright, shimmering blue. The beam turned off with an audible click, and Talon retook her elbow before she could move. He guided her through a door that whished open almost silently, leaving Vardin behind to endure the scan. Lia found herself entering in a small reception room, clearly designed for greeting guests and dignitaries.

A large man in the red dress uniform of a League captain stepped before her. He saluted her and bowed. He moved with the elegance of a man who was accustomed to such formalities. “Damaia, I am Captain Artrane of the Wrath of Aegir. Welcome aboard.”

His voice held more pride when he identified his ship than when he identified himself. Lia decided she liked him.

“Thank you,” she replied.

She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned in time to see someone rush into the room.

The tall, slender woman moved with the grace of a dancer. Her hair was the silver of moonbeams, fashioned in an intricate style. Wide-set gray eyes fringed with silver lashes, high cheekbones and full pink lips created a sensual allure most women only dreamed of projecting. Her elegantly simple copper dress flowed around her ankles. Fina, goddess of

25

beauty and light, must have reached down and touched this woman with her blessed hand.

The vision flashed Lia a beautiful smile, right before she launched herself into Talon’s arms. An unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation burned through Lia when Talon released her elbow to hold the newcomer. The golden enchantress was her complete antithesis. Even wrapped in silk rather than rags, Lia could never hope to compete with such a siren.

The melodic laugh the woman let loose rubbed across Lia’s skin like broken glass. Seeing her in Talon's arms, Lia felt the urge to wrench the two apart, preferably while ripping that perfectly arranged, silver-blonde hair out by the roots.

“I can’t believe you found her!” The woman actually sounded delighted. To Lia’s surprise, the vision pushed herself free from Talon and flung her arms around Lia.

“Welcome home, Damaia,” she breathed.

The woman hadn’t considered the effect of differing gravity on her target, and her action cost Lia her precarious balance. Locked in an embrace, the two women slammed into the floor.

Lia landed with a squawk, and the wound in her side screamed with pain. The beautiful woman collapsed on top of her with a feminine gasp of dismay. Prophetess, the woman even fell gracefully.

Fortunately, the fiasco spared Lia from responding to the heartfelt welcome. In the back of her mind, she realized this was the first hug she’d ever received. Naturally, it was a disaster.

“Ilexa,” Talon growled in warning. He took each woman by an arm and hauled them unceremoniously to their feet.

Ilexa gave another tinkling laugh. “Please forgive me. My excitement carried me away. I didn’t mean to tackle you.”

“May I present my sister, Ilexa.” Talon released his sister, but not Lia. Belatedly noting the woman had the same eyes as Talon, Lia felt foolish. Still uncomfortably insecure, she nodded at her sister-in-law. “I am pleased to meet you.”

26

Liz Craven

Great. Back in League territory less than five minutes and already lying. Undeterred by either the spectacle she’d created or the stiffness of Lia’s greeting, Ilexa pulled free of her brother and hooked her elbow through Lia’s arm. The one Talon wasn’t holding.

She ignored the large, growling man on the other side of Lia, an impressive feat.

“Damaia, allow me to escort you to your quarters.”

Talon shook his head. “I’m taking her to sickbay for a health scan and we will need to debrief.”

“Shame on you, Talon,” Ilexa interjected. “This is how you welcome your lost bride?

With a debriefing and a scan? Your chivalry knows no bounds.”

Talon bristled. “The Damaia’s health and security take precedence over ‘chivalry’.”

The argument reminded Lia of her former life on N’yota. Others making her decisions with no regard for her wants or needs. For a brief moment, she felt as powerless as the child she had been. Deliberately, she forced that feeling aside.

“The Damaia is a person capable of making her own decisions,” she snapped. Talon and Ilexa appeared startled. Lia wondered if it was because of her obvious rancor or because she interrupted their argument.

Ilexa tossed her brother a withering look. “I apologize, Damaia. I had no right to speak for you.”

Talon glared at both Ilexa and Lia. “As I said, the Damaia’s health and security are our priorities.”

Lia drew herself up. “I’ve been through decontamination.”

He gave her a dismissive frown. “You will have your health checked. Your wellbeing is critical to the future of N’yota.”

Talon could not have picked an argument better designed to raise her hackles. “I am not a child needing such decisions made for me, and I will not submit to a health scan.”

She knew she sounded petulant, but didn’t care.

“You need a scan—” Talon began.

Ilexa dug her elbow into his side, effectively cutting him off. “My brother will have to learn women are to be treated differently than soldiers. Please allow me to show you to

27

your quarters. No doubt you would like to freshen up and relax—away from this chestbeating male.”

Lia managed to keep her lips from twitching. For the first time in her life, someone was more interested in what she wanted than what was “best for the Damaia”. “Please call me Lia.”

“I suppose I should object to addressing you with such familiarity, but we are sisters.” With a cultivated sniff, Ilexa stuck her nose in the air and breezed past Talon, pulling Lia along with her.

Sisters? Prophetess help her, in the space of two hours she had gone from being all alone to having a husband and a sister. What the hell was she supposed to do with either of them?

*

The doors to the lift parted silently, and Ilexa gestured for Lia to precede her into the hallway. Taking careful steps, Lia sank to her ankles in carpet far thicker than she had seen elsewhere on the ship. Having followed her new sister-in-law through a sterile maze of corridors and lifts, Lia recognized the unusualness of the ornately appointed hall before her.

She took in the elaborate furniture strategically positioned along the passage. Paintings in rich-hued, wooden frames hung on the walls. The muted lighting provided a cozier feel than the rest of the harshly lit ship. Clearly, this area was designed to give its occupants a feeling of importance.

Lia felt suffocated. A wave of homesickness for the simple shanty in the mining colony washed over her.

Ilexa paused at the farthest door from the lift. “These are your quarters,” she explained. “Place your hand on the blue panel. The computer will do a quick scan to admit you. It won’t admit anyone other than you without your permission.”

Lia raised her hand to the panel. It was cold to the touch, and she felt a prickling sensation when scanned. Like the lift, the doors slid open silently. If the computer did admit anyone without her permission she would never hear them coming. 28

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The quarters were actually a large suite. Lia crossed the threshold into a wellappointed sitting area. Through an open door she glimpsed the bedroom and part of the lav on the far side of it.

She could fit her shanty three times over in the sitting area alone. Lia sank gratefully onto a reclining chaise in the sitting area. The double shift, cavein and emotional upheaval of the day left her spent. Ilexa glided into the dining area of the suite and opened a small door hidden in the paneling. “This is the refrigeration unit. Would you care for something to drink? There’s water, juice, wine, and sweet drinks.”

“Water would be great,” Lia replied.

Ilexa pulled two clear bottles from the unit and joined Lia on the chaise. “Just so you know, anything you say outside of quarters on the ship can be monitored. Normally, I’d think anyone worried others would take time to eavesdrop on them was crazy, but given the security measures in place…” She gave a graceful shrug. “If you want to have a private conversation, make sure you are in someone’s quarters.”

Lia accepted the bottle of water offered, marveling at the clearness of the liquid. She had grown accustomed to Tmesis where the precious commodity was always tinged brown. “Thank you, Ilexa.”

“Please, call me Lex. All my family does.” She gave an impish grin. “They only call me ‘Ilexa’ if I’ve managed to annoy them.”

Filled with questions, but uncomfortable voicing them, Lia latched on to the opening Ilexa had given her. “Tell me about your family.”

“I’m the youngest of six. I have five older brothers. My father died during the wars, but my mother is still alive and ruling us all with an iron fist.”

“I’m sorry about your father.”

“Thanks, but he died when I was five. I barely remember him.” Ilexa smiled wistfully, appearing lost in her memories, before returning to the topic. “Talon’s the oldest of my brothers and became the head of the family when my father died. He was thirteen. It’s made him a little domineering.”

“I noticed,” Lia muttered, prompting a laugh from Ilexa.

29

“I can give you plenty of advice on dealing with him. My four other brothers are just as overbearing as Talon. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Thank you,” Lia replied. “I may take you up on your offer.”

“He blamed himself for your disappearance,” Ilexa told her, turning serious. That startled Lia. “Why? He was only twenty and attending the Academy at the time.”

“You’re family, Lia. More importantly, you are his wife. Family is the most important thing to Talon. He believes if he had taken a more active role in your security, you would never have been lost.”

Lia felt awkward. She didn’t want to discuss the subject of her disappearance. “I had the best security the League had to offer.”

“True, but Talon still blames himself. He has been obsessed with finding you. Even when the rest of the government believed the search futile, Talon insisted it continue. He has been driven to bring you home.”

“He’s been driven to bring the Damaia home,” Lia pointed out.

“You are the Damaia.”

“Yes,” she replied sadly. “I am.”

Ilexa studied Lia’s face for a moment, then rose. “I should let you freshen up. The captain and his senior officers decided to have a welcome dinner for you. I would have suggested they wait and let you settle in, but they arranged it before I found out. I left some clothes on the bed for you. If you need anything, I’m across the hall and Talon is next door.”

Lia groaned at the announcement of a formal dinner. “Thank you for the clothes, Lex.”

“No worries. Talon tells me I have enough clothes for five women. Speaking of Talon, he will probably show up half an hour early to talk with you before escorting you to dinner. If I know Big Brother—and I do—that gives you about an hour and a half to get ready and rest. If you need me for anything you can pop across the hall or use the communications panel to contact me.”

Ilexa took the bottle from Lia’s hand and sauntered out with a little wave. 30

Liz Craven

*

Talon stepped off the lift, furious at Ilexa’s interference. His meeting with the captain had done nothing to cool his temper. Now he had to attend a formal mess rather than review the Damaia’s life.

“Ilexa,” he began in a warning tone when he saw her waiting for him in the corridor.

“Talon, we need to talk,” Ilexa responded, without her usual playfulness.

“Is the Damaia—?”

“Lia’s as fine as can be expected,” she reassured him. Talon hesitated, staring at the Damaia’s door. He had been looking for her for over a decade, turning away when he was so close to having his questions answered went against every fiber of his being. “Lex—”

“It’s important.” Ilexa’s voice was soft.

“Fine,” he said. “But make it fast.”

He opened the door to his assigned quarters and followed his sister in. The doors had barely closed before he snapped, “What’s wrong?”

“You need to give her a little time to herself,” she said.

“Time to herself?” Talon couldn’t believe Ilexa. “I’ll give her plenty of time to dress for dinner. You did find something for her to wear, didn’t you?”

“That’s not what I mean,” she replied. “And yes, I’ve loaned her some clothes.”

“Lex, I don’t have time for this.”

“I promised her you wouldn’t be over for at least an hour and a half.”

“That will only give me half an hour to get answers before the formal dinner the captain arranged.”

Ilexa brushed past him and settled in a chair beside the portal. “Talon, I’m here to give you my professional opinion.”

Alarmed, Talon sat on the couch across from her. Ilexa never joked or wasted time when it came to her healing gift. “Is she sick?”

“No, she’s not ill,” Lex reassured him. “It’s not physical.”

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Talon frowned. It wasn’t like his sister to beat around the bush. “What are you saying, Lex? My patience is wearing thin.”

Ilexa rose and moved to stand in front of the portal. The oblong shape of Tmesis hung framed in the center like the painting of a desolate wasteland. Staring at the dismal moon, Talon felt his fury at the Damaia’s suffering burn in his chest.

“Talon.” Lex’s voice was soft, entreating. “If you go to Lia and demand answers, you are going to do nothing but give her the opening to pick a fight. I assure you she will leap at the opportunity and use the fight to keep you at arm’s length.”

“I thought your healing skills were confined to the physical,” Talon stated. “Are you telling me they have expanded into the realm of psychological or spiritual?”

Ilexa wheeled on her brother, and he saw anger blazing in her eyes. “Don’t you dare belittle my gift. I may be young for a healer, but my age has no bearing on my talent,”

she snapped. “A person is made up of the physical, emotional and spiritual. These must exist in harmony for one to be healthy. I cannot read her physical condition without an exam, because her emotional and spiritual conditions are poor enough to obscure it.”

Ignoring his sister’s ire, Talon zeroed in on the part of her statement that most alarmed him and shot to his feet. “You can’t evaluate her health? She needs to see the League doctors on board immediately.”

“You are not listening to me,” Ilexa warned. “You need to ease her into her new life and make her comfortable. Until that happens, she is not going to submit to any medical exams.”

“She’s not comfortable with her quarters? We can change them.”

“Are all men as obtuse as you?” His sister glowered at him, and he had the childish urge to pull her hair.

“I’m talking about her emotional state,” Ilexa said through gritted teeth.

“Her health comes first,” Talon repeated stubbornly. Was he the only one who understood how critical the Damaia was to the lasting peace of their world?

“Talon, you’ve— we’ve spent all these years so focused on the Damaia we forgot about Lia.”

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The earnest expression on his sister’s face kept him from throttling her. “We can’t forget about Lia if we are focused on the Damaia. Lia is the Damaia.”

“The Damaia is a title, a figurehead. We haven’t thought about Lia as a person. What are her likes and dislikes? What are her dreams? What makes her laugh? Lia is more than just a warm body to sit on the Prophecy Throne. She has a beating heart, and we need to recognize that.”

Talon shoved a hand through his short hair in an agitated gesture. An unconscious habit he thought he’d outgrown. “Regardless of her likes, dislikes and dreams, she is the Damaia, and that is more important than anything.”

Ilexa jabbed a finger into his chest. “Mark my words, you ignore her likes, dislikes and dreams—you ignore who she is at the core, and N’yota won’t have a Damaia.”

Ilexa stomped towards the door, but paused to turn back and look at the moon framed in the portal. “It’s ironic. The discovery of trynnium on N’yota resulted in the League pushing us into peace and helping create Lia to fulfill the Prophecy. Trynnium is steadily replacing xyreon as the most demanded fuel source, and Lia has been slaving to mine xyreon as its market share declines. I wonder what the gods are trying to tell us.”

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Chapter Four

Lia examined the door, but found no manual lock. Left with no choice but to trust Ilexa had told her the truth regarding others’ ability to enter to her quarters, she decided to clean up.

She staggered through the sleeping quarters into the lavatory and nearly swooned when the door slid completely open to reveal a room larger than the rep’s Office. The lav held a combined shower/tub unit that offered both sonic and water cleansing options. The inset cabinets above the basin held a variety of shampoos, conditioners, soaps, scents and styling products. The cabinets below the basin were stocked with fluffy towels. After years on a water-deprived moon, Lia couldn’t resist the lure of a true water shower. She stripped her mining clothes from her body, and winced at the sight of the wound in her side.

The skin surrounding the punctured area burned an angry red and felt warm to the touch. She needed to clean and dress the wound, but doubted she would obtain any medical supplies without submitting to an exam. Memories of being poked and prodded like a science experiment hardened her resolve. She had survived the harsh conditions of the mines and suffered worse injuries than this one. Her body would heal itself eventually, and this time she would actually be able to cleanse the wound. Feeling decadent and guilty, Lia turned the water on and stepped into the shower. She adjusted the temperature until it was almost scalding and sighed in bliss at the foreign sensation of water raining down on her body. Overwhelmed by the fruity and floral perfumes of the body cleansers, she opted for scent-free hand soap. Careful of the wound in her side she lathered herself with a thick, rich foam and scrubbed hard. She sluiced water over body, rinsing away the lather and layers of dirt. Next, she turned her attention to her hair. The shampoo smelled of chanua blossoms and triggered memories of the N’yotan countryside. Surprised by the strength of the recollection and strange tug it caused in her stomach, she made quick work of 34

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washing her hair. Feeling clean for the first time in years, Lia braced her hands on the shower wall and enjoyed the slide of water against her skin. Exhaustion washed over her like the water. Reluctantly, she forced herself to turn the shower off. She couldn’t afford to relax. Not now. Maybe not ever. She wrung the water from her hair, stepped through the steam and retrieved a towel. Drying herself quickly, she wrapped the towel around herself and grabbed a second towel, which she wound around her head like a shangazi turban. Lia padded barefoot into the sleeping quarters in search of the clothes her sister-inlaw had left for her. As much as she hated being found, she could not resist the lure of clean, feminine clothing. The thought of wearing something other than the filthy mining rags lifted her flagging spirits.

The large bed sat on a raised platform opposite a wall constructed of a floor-toceiling portal. The designer clearly intended the bed’s occupants to enjoy an unimpeded view of space. A glance towards that view revealed stars streaking by. She must have been more zoned out in the shower than she realized to not notice when the ship broke orbit—or inertial dampening technology had vastly improved since her last trans-stellar flight.

Lia climbed the three steps up the dais to the bed. She drew in a deep breath of pleasure when she saw the gowns Ilexa had left. Bracing a hand against the comforter, she leaned forward for a closer look. The jewel-toned gowns shimmered in the dim light of the cabin, and Lia recognized the material as bafta silk. Unable to resist, she stroked a hand down the sleek gown closest to her. She could not remember ever touching something as soft.

She had intended to dress and return to the lav to dry her hair, but after seeing the gowns, Lia did not want to risk damaging the material with her wet hair. She backed down the steps, still staring at the delicate cloth, and stumbled in the light gravity. Tearing her attention away from the bed, she returned to the lav to dry her hair. The steam from the shower had evaporated, and the mirrored vanity had cleared. Sitting carefully in the chair, Lia unwound the towel from her hair and drew a comb through the thick mass. Despite the heat, not all miners shaved their heads. Some miners,

35

including herself, grew their hair as long as possible. They wrapped their heads with hair and covered it in cloth to provide a small cushion for the skull if they bashed against the side of a cliff.

To Lia’s surprise, her hair fell to her waist in soft curls. She hadn’t realized how long it had grown. The natural curl of her hair usually caused it to snarl and tangle, drawing the length up to her shoulder blades. Amazing what miracles water, shampoo and conditioner worked.

She moved into the drying tube and enjoyed the caress of warm air and the sensation of her hair blowing against her skin. All too soon, the auto-shutoff kicked in and the door slid open. She stepped from the tube and made a beeline for the clothes. Though all the dresses were beautiful, Lia had no problem making her selection. She traced a gentle hand down the sapphire-blue gown near the headboard, before lifting it from the bed. As an afterthought, she grabbed the underclothing Ilexa had graciously provided. Lia carried the clothes to the full-length mirror beside the lav. She dropped the towel, pulled on the underclothes, shimmied into the dress and stared. Prophetess. She did not recognize the woman staring back at her. The rich hued robe brought a deeper blue to her eyes and made her hair look like flame. Her complexion was smooth, if a little too pale. Tmesis wasn’t a prime destination for sunbathing. No, Lia realized with dismay. She did recognize the woman staring back at her. She had seen the image before her in countless texts, statues and works of art. The scientists responsible for her creation would be thrilled to see the results of their handiwork. They had turned her into the living embodiment of the Prophetess herself. The chime to the door echoed through the room, and Lia’s stomach clenched.

*

The door to the Damaia’s quarters slid open. Talon stepped across the threshold and froze, oblivious to the almost silent hiss of the door closing behind him. The vision before him had to be the Damaia, because she was in the Damaia’s quarters, but she bore no resemblance to the tattered mine-rat he’d hauled aboard the ship. 36

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The woman had vivid red hair that flowed in loose curls to her waist and framed a heart-shaped face. Her pale skin was luminous, as though lit by an inner light, providing a canvas for full lips, a slender nose and wide-set eyes tipped up at the ends. A closer study revealed those unusual starburst eyes framed with long lashes that curled up to almost touch perfectly arched eyebrows.

A gown the color of N’yota’s deepest seas hugged her body, clinging to lush curves. The scooped neckline revealed the upper curves of full breasts. Though the neckline was modest, the sight of her figure made his mouth go dry. The fact this amazing creature before him was his wife had him struggling to keep his body under control. He wanted to find the geneticists who oversaw her conception and kiss their feet. Talon realized he was staring and snapped to attention. He offered a formal salute and a slight bow. Straightening, he said. “Damaia, you are more beautiful than a N’yotan sunset.”

“Oh, please,” Lia snapped, glaring him. “At least get some original material.”

Her response startled him, almost causing him to crack a smile. He was not accustomed to women rebuking him for paying them a compliment. “You’re right. That was trite, but you have grown into a beautiful woman. You look almost nothing like the gangly child I remember.”

She stiffened, and he knew he had said the wrong thing. Damn she was prickly. He floundered for a moment, uncertain how to begin what was likely one of the most important conversations of his life. He decided to start with the present. “I apologize for the formal dinner this evening. I understand you worked two back-to-back shifts and are undoubtedly tired. Unfortunately, postponing the meal might be interpreted as N’yota snubbing League representatives.”

He wouldn’t have thought her posture could become any straighter, but it did. Now what had he said?

“I believe I am coherent enough to sit through a meal,” she informed him in a haughty tone.

Aha. Pride. “I’m certain you are, Damaia,” he conceded, feeling gracious.

“My name—” She growled, “—is Lia.”

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He frowned. Her anger over the title worried him. She likely believed they’d left her to rot on that hell-moon. She had a right to be angry, if for no other reason than the amount of time she had been stranded, but she couldn’t show disdain for N’yota publicly. It might damage the peace they had fought so long and hard for.

“Lia,” he began, “the fact you suffered so long in that gods-forsaken place is intolerable. I can only imagine the rage you feel, but for the sake of your people, you cannot scorn your title.”

She stared at him for several heartbeats. Her wide-set eyes narrowed. “Have you considered I may have wished to remain in that gods-forsaken place?”

Stunned, Talon barely managed to keep his mouth from dropping open. He would have been less surprised if she had stripped naked and revealed herself a man. “You would have preferred to live in squalor, under the tyranny of the Guild, rather than take your rightful place at home?”

Her full upper lip lifted in a sneer, giving her the appearance of an angry feline.

“Home? Tmesis is more a home to me than N’yota will ever be.”

Better to serve in hell than rule in heaven? “You are the Damaia, the rightful leader of—”

“I am not the Damaia. I am a short cut created to circumvent the Prophecy of Peace.”

Talon frowned. Who taught her N’yotan theology? “The Prophecy of Peace predicted when the blood of the two warring Houses mingled in the veins of a daughter, peace would return to our world. The validity of the Prophecy was underscored when the priestess who foresaw the birth of the Damaia ascended to the gods to become the Prophetess.”

“Even if you accept the Prophecy, you must agree the spirit of the Prophecy calls for the House of Lassan and the House of Gemadam to unite in peace—likely meaning marriage. The peace comes from the two Houses uniting, putting aside differences, not the birth of a daughter.”

He rose to pace. They did not have time for a theological discussion. He tried the most succinct approach. “You are the daughter of the two Houses and the fulfillment of the Prophecy.”

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She gave him a look most reserved for foolish children, and he swallowed a smile. His wife had backbone and that pleased him.

“The League negotiated with each House to allow me to be created in some lab—”

“You were conceived using in vitro fertilization to ensure your gender—”

“And carried by a surrogate to ensure neither House actually came in contact with a child of tainted blood,” she finished almost triumphantly. “That is hardly ‘uniting’. Besides, you can’t possibly want this marriage any more than I do. Surely you want to find a way out of it.”

He hadn’t believed the conversation could become any more bizarre. He heard the tinny sound of bitterness when she mentioned her tainted blood, filed it away for future analysis and focused on the absurd idea he would want out of their marriage. “What would make you think that?”

“Come on, Talon,” she said with an eye roll. “Your father led the resistance to the two Houses. We were married the day I was born to unite all three factions on N’yota. Surely as his son, you don’t want to see N’yota as a monarchy.”

He shook his head. “You misunderstand the rebellion. The rebels were just as religious as the Houses, probably more so. It wasn’t the idea of a united monarchy that caused the rebellion, but the Houses’ refusal to end the war. Truthfully, the rebellion wanted to see the end of the war with the birth of the Damaia.”

“Then why wed you to me and in a sealed marriage no less?”

“To ensure the Damaia would hear the voice of people as well as the voice of the Houses in decision making. To ensure the Houses couldn’t manipulate the Damaia’s future into restarting the war.”

“To take away my choices,” she said quietly. “To take away our choices. A sealed marriage is inviolate. No divorce is possible. They wed us to ensure we had no choice but to meekly follow the path they laid for us to walk.”

Her soft words burned with anger, but underneath he heard a deep, soul-rending pain. Her simple observation offered him a glimpse into the frustration she must have felt growing up, without being allowed to make the simplest decisions or even having the luxury of dreaming about what she would be when she grew up.

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His heart hurt for the little girl denied the joy of dreaming and for the woman before him, trying with such desperation to fight her destiny. He gentled his voice when he said,

“Whatever their intentions, we are sealed and you are the culmination of the Prophecy.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that my conception hasn’t ‘united’ the Houses.”

“Regardless of prophetical interpretation, N’yota is at peace for the first time in five thousand years, and that peace resulted from your existence.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I was born, now there is peace. I haven’t set foot on N’yota since I was twelve. Obviously, my presence on the planet is immaterial to maintaining the peace.”

He kept his face neutral, though he was tempted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation and the fire she displayed. Not to mention her terminology. Immaterial? Living in the mines hadn’t affected her vocabulary. He had feared she would curse like… Well, like a miner.

His gaze swept the unusual and oddly refreshing creature before him. Her eyes glittered and a flush covered her cheeks and the exposed skin of her chest, which rose and fell quickly with agitated breathing. He found himself beginning to react physically and checked the direction of his thoughts, turning his attention back to the conversation.

“The people have not been told you’ve been missing,” he admitted. “While we have been searching for you, the public has been told you’ve been studying at an undisclosed League school for security purposes.”

She gasped. “You’ve been lying to them?”

He sat down in the chair and settled back. “You seem awfully outraged about a lie to a people you claim aren’t yours.”

“I—”

To his disappointment, a loud chime cut off whatever remark Lia was about to make. He rose and offered her his arm. “That was the bell announcing dinner.” He paused at the door. They had not resolved the issue of her title. “At dinner you will be addressed as the Damaia—”

“I won’t make a scene in public tonight.”

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He nodded his thanks and covered her hand with his own. Her words left him uneasy, but he was somewhat assured she would behave during dinner. Staring into her unusual eyes, he saw the anger she used to mask her desperation, and behind the anger he caught a glimpse of exhaustion that caused his chest to tighten. He felt an irrational urge to abandon the formal mess, regardless of the political ramifications. The thought of tucking her safely into bed led to a vivid image of that long red hair spilled across the pillows… He bit back a groan and escorted Lia from the room.

*

Lia fought to keep from leaning on the man escorting her down the corridor. There was something strangely reassuring about the strength of the arm beneath her fingers and the warmth of the hand covering hers. Everything about the man screamed duty and responsibility, but beneath the obligation Lia sensed a core she could only describe as solid.

Giving a mental head shake, she bolstered her emotional walls and chalked her weakness up to exhaustion. Of course, it didn’t hurt the man beside her resembled the ancient statues of the gods. She was no stranger to well-built men. The hard labor of the mines sculpted bodies better than the military, but there was something else about this man. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something that made her want to rip his shirt off and run her hands over his muscled chest. The thought of doing so made her palms tingle and her stomach flutter.

This time she gave a physical head shake to pull her raging thoughts back under control. Talon must have caught the action, because he turned concerned eyes to her. Those eyes worried her. She had a feeling he saw more than she intended him to—maybe more than she understood herself.

She was still frustrated at not winning the debate over her status as the Damaia. Granted, her mental faculties were not operating at peak efficiency. In the past twenty hours, she had worked a double shift, suffered injury in an explosion, survived a cave-in, been summoned to the rep’s office, been found by her husband, met her sister-in-law, prepared for a formal mess and debated fundamental religious beliefs.

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Unfortunately, she did not have the luxury of recouping. She still had to attend the dinner and keep her eyes peeled for an escape opportunity. One of her favorite things about life on Tmesis was the lack of assassination attempts. Surviving hardship was a lot easier than surviving poison. She had to find a way to escape. While not in any condition to mastermind a getaway, she still needed to be ready to run when the opportunity presented itself. Of course, if they had the ability to track her, running was pointless.

“I didn’t know about the transmitter. When was it inserted?” Lia asked, fortunately too tired to be outraged.

“Shortly after you were born, before our sealing ceremony,” Talon replied, leading her into the lift.

Lia felt another stomach flutter at the mention of their sealing. She ran her free hand around the back of her neck. “Where did they put it?” She let the exhaustion seep into her voice and hoped her words sounded like casual conversation. He frowned in a distracted manner as the lift began to move. “Just at the base of the skull if I remember correctly.” He seemed to force his attention back to her and smiled a politician’s smile at her. “Don’t worry, it should be invisible beneath your skin.”

Lia murmured absently, as if her concern had been vanity. The less substance the man thought she had, the easier her escape would be. The lift opened directly into a formal dining room, where soldiers and fleet personnel stood at attention behind their chairs. Talon escorted Lia to the empty seat at the head of the table. “You remember Ilexa, Vardin, Thane, Caden and Captain Artrane,” he stated more than asked.

At her nod, he introduced those remaining and pulled her chair out for her. After seating her, he took the seat to her right.

Lia listened to the small talk and made appropriate responses when necessary. As the inane chatter flowed around her, she felt her simmering rage spark her temper. How dare they drag her back to N’yota like a wayward pet. Her temper disconnected from her brain and sought an outlet on its own. Unfortunately, Vardin provided that outlet. His glowing 42

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red eyes, which had focused on her from the moment she began to eat, never strayed as she began the entrée course.

“Am I committing some horrible sin? Using the wrong fork, perhaps?” Despite the caustic words, Lia kept her tone polite. She might be tired enough to risk sniping at an Inderian, but she wasn’t crazy.

The unanimous pause of the others at the table almost made her laugh. Apparently, they thought she was crazy. The urge to giggle bubbled up, and she suppressed it with effort. She must be more tired than she thought.

“I beg your pardon?” Vardin’s expression didn’t change.

“You are staring at me. I assume you have a reason.” Great. Now she was taunting the Inderian. She didn’t remember developing a death wish, but it had been a busy day.

“I was watching you eat.”

No kidding. She didn’t know Inderians had such a gift for stating the obvious. “And you find my mastication enthralling?”

Clearly, she had moved from merely wishing for death to active participation. Maybe she should impale herself on her dinner knife and get it over with.

“You are eating with the wrong hand.”

She glanced at the fork in her hand. Feeling awkward and embarrassed, she lowered the fork to her plate. Funny that her intentional rudeness didn’t bother her, but an accidental lapse in deportment had her flushing. “The wrong hand?”

“I reviewed your security files and event appearances. In all records, you kept the fork in your right hand. Tonight, you have kept the fork in your left hand.”

“And now you doubt who I am?” She couldn’t keep the hope out of her voice. Vardin gave a slight shake of his head. “You are the Damaia.”

“Vardin is very attentive to details. It’s one of the things that makes him a superior soldier.” Caden grinned. “And once he notices a discrepancy he won’t leave it alone until he resolves it.”

Damn. Getting around someone that diligent was going to be difficult. She would have to remember that when she planned her escape. “I’m ambidextrous, but I prefer my left hand.”

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“When did your preference shift to your left hand?” Vardin appeared dissatisfied with her explanation.

“I have always preferred my left hand.”

“Why did you not use your left hand before leaving N’yota?”

“Because it was decided I would only use my right hand,” she said with exasperation.

“Why?”

Thane asked the question, but everyone at the table had stopped eating and waited for an explanation. She hoped they were fascinated by her stupidity in baiting an Inderian and not which hand she was using. She had some control of her stupidity, despite the day’s sterling evidence to the contrary, but being a genetically engineered Prophecy fulfillment was out of her power. “Because using my left hand would be a clear indication I took after the Lassan line more than the Gemadam line.”

“How would holding your fork in your left hand do that?” Ilexa sounded bewildered.

“Because the Lassan line had both left-handed and right-handed rulers. The rulers of the Gemadam line were only right-handed. Therefore, using my left hand would indicate genetic bias towards the Lassan line.” Her tone held the sing-song quality of quoting a reoccurring lecture.

“That’s absurd,” Ilexa burst out. “Of all the nitpicking, micromanaging… Who decided that?”

“A member of the Gemadam House saw me using my left hand, and the family petitioned the Prophecy Council to prevent me from using my left hand as my dominant hand. The petition was granted.”

“How old were you?” Talon didn’t take his eyes from Lia as he reached for his wine glass. She hoped his action signaled interest in the topic was waning. She shrugged. “Three or four years.”

Ilexa leaned forward. “What is this ‘Prophecy Council’?”

The question surprised Lia. The Council oversaw every minute detail of her life on N’yota to the point they even scheduled her to trips to the lav. As an oppressive dark 44

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cloud that hovered over her very existence, the idea the Council worked behind the scenes never occurred to her.

“The Prophecy Council made all decisions regarding my…” Existence? Purpose?

Who knew explaining the Council would be difficult? “Life,” she concluded for lack of a better term.

“They raised you?” Ilexa asked.

The bureaucratic Council concerned with raising a child? The idea caused the edges of Lia’s lips to tug in wry amusement. “No, they were a political body,” she clarified.

“I don’t understand. Who was on this Prophecy Council?” Caden asked. He leaned forward, unguarded confusion shining in his eyes.

Lia shook her head slightly at the naive openness Caden showed. She had never been that young. Not even as a toddler. “The Houses of Lassan and Gemadam each elected a member. N’yotans not affiliated with either House voted on a member.” In other words, the rebels. But the rebels’ representative had objected to the term. As a result, the word

“rebel” had been officially stricken from her vocabulary. “The High Priest and Priestess appointed one, and the League chose the last Council member.”

Ilexa frowned. “Lia, I don’t remember anyone ever mentioning the Council.”

Lia shrugged one shoulder, squelching a wince when it tugged on the wound in her side. “The Council was impaneled before my creation.”

“They likely wanted to have the positions filled before your conception should they need to make any health decisions during your gestation,” Talon interjected. Lia noted the deliberate use of the words “conception” and “gestation”, his not-so-subtle reminder of his position in their earlier debate. She felt the girlish urge to stick her tongue out at him.

“What kind of childhood is overseen by a bunch of bureaucrats that have to vote on which pair of shoes you are going to wear?” Ilexa demanded, outraged.

“Mine,” Lia replied without a trace of irony, effectively closing the topic.

“Damaia,” the chief medical officer began, “I would like to schedule a routine checkup for you sometime tomorrow if that is convenient for you.”

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Though grateful for the change of subject, Lia shot Talon a murderous look on principle, before turning to address the doctor. The deeply ingrained public relations training by the Council had her acknowledging the man by title and name. “Dr. Brinson, I am not submitting to an exam.”

The man looked aghast. “Damaia, you have spent years on that moon, removed from proper medical care. There is no telling what you have been exposed to you. I insist you come to sickbay for your own good.”

Her own good? Lia gritted her teeth. She wanted to scream that she was perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Instead, she fell back on the abruptness she learned in the mines. “No.”

The doctor stared at her in disbelief. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. Like most intellectuals, a flat denial without justification stymied his ability to argue. She pointedly turned her attention from the doctor and caught the captain attempting to hide a smile behind his wine glass. Obviously, Lia was not the only one who found the young doctor pompous.

“Damaia, once you are settled and have adjusted to the ship’s schedule, please contact the bridge. I would be happy to give you a tour of the ship,” the first officer offered with a charming smile. A handsome man with blond hair and brown eyes, he looked at Lia with pure male appreciation.

Flustered, Lia hesitated, unaccustomed to men flirting with her. Of course, it probably didn’t hurt she ruled what had become a very wealthy planet. “Thank you, Commander Warrant. That would be nice,” she said with a nervous smile.

“But unnecessary,” Talon said coldly. “I will show my wife the ship.”

Lia blinked startled eyes at Talon. What happened to not insulting League delegates?

With a flash of feminine intuition, she realized her husband was jealous. For a moment, she felt a lightness that had nothing to do with the difference in gravity, only to come crashing down when she realized the jealousy was rooted in possessiveness rather than caring. He didn’t know her well enough to care about her, and she had been viewed as an object too long to appreciate the idea of belonging to anyone. 46

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Pointedly ignoring her arrogant husband, she addressed the first officer.

“Commander Warrant, how long will the trip to N’yota take?”

She saw the muscles in Talon’s jaw clench and felt a thrill of satisfaction.

“A little over a month,” he replied. “We have to deviate course to restock supplies on DeKalb Station. After that, we will proceed directly to your home.”

“DeKalb Station?” Ilexa’s face lit up. She turned dancing eyes to Lia. “I’ve always wanted to visit that station. It’s just inside League territory and trades with outlying merchants. Its shops are supposed to have the most exotic clothes and jewels. Not to mention perfumes and other wares. We are going to shop ourselves to exhaustion there.”

Lia knew excitement showed on her face, but not for the reason the others assumed. A station just inside League territory meant she could get passage on a vessel out of League space. Escape! “How far are we from the station?” she asked.

“Four days,” the commander replied.

Perfect. She would rest, recuperate and plan.

Talon scowled. “I don’t think that’s wise. The station is rough and I do not wish to expose the Damaia in an area with such poor security.”

Little flurries of panic began to swim in Lia’s stomach. This station would be the only opportunity she had to escape. She had to get off this ship when it docked. While she had enjoyed the luxury of not taking orders since being discovered, she had yet to challenge a serious decision regarding her safety.

“Talon, don’t be ridiculous.” Ilexa waved a dismissive hand at her brother. “No one knows we are returning with the Damaia. The only people who know Lia’s identity sit at this table. We aren’t going to announce it to the station. You present yourself as N’yota’s first minister and all attention focuses on you. Lia and I will disembark incognito with her security detail.”

Having a sister was proving useful.

“I would like to see the station,” Lia informed him. She carefully kept her voice mild and hopeful. She didn’t want to demand anything yet. Having only begun testing the boundaries of independence, she didn’t want to run up against them too soon. Once she

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gained certain liberties it would be difficult for the Council or Talon to take them away, but if they denied them early on, she would never get them. Talon frowned. Lia instinctively knew he wanted to restrict her to the ship, something he could likely do for her safety. Almost any leader’s decision could be overruled when their security staff deemed the risk too great.

“We will need to evaluate the risk before making any decision,” he finally replied, reluctance tingeing his voice.

Lia realized she had been holding her breath and released it in a controlled exhale. The fact that Talon had not refused her request outright stilled the flutters in her stomach. Ditching her guard would be difficult, but escape would be impossible if she could not disembark before N’yota.

Ilexa flashed her beautiful smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. This will be our only chance to do any shopping before reaching N’yota. I’m sure Lia would like to choose some clothes of her own, not to mention books, puzzles, holoplays and such to keep her entertained during the trip. Otherwise, she’ll go stir crazy.”

Lia blinked. She had never chosen her own clothing. Even once she went to work in the mines, the Guild assigned regulation clothing. The idea of choosing something for herself opened the door for a purely feminine pleasure she had never experienced. Talon gave his sister a fond look. The first truly unguarded expression Lia had seen on his face. The harsh planes softened, his lips curled upward making them appear fuller, and his cold grey eyes warmed to the same silver of Ilexa’s. “While you, I’m sure, will suffer through the stores solely for the sake of the Damaia.”

Ilexa’s features took on an exaggeratedly serious expression. “I am willing to make such a sacrifice for my family,” she replied in a low, martyred voice. Chuckles broke out round the table, and the topic turned to ship business. Lia listened with one ear, while trying to contemplate her escape. Exhaustion beat at her, causing her concentration to drift.

Talon rose, breaking her out of her reverie. When he offered his arm, she realized she had finished the dessert course. Though thrilled to leave the table, she loathed having to stand and make her way back to her quarters. For a moment, she flirted with the idea of 48

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putting her head down into what remained of her chocolate mousse, but feared Talon would use her head dive into the dessert to force a medical exam on her. Despite the lighter gravity aboard ship, Lia felt as though she weighed the equivalent of a fully laden skimmer as she pushed away from the table. The solid feel of Talon’s arm beneath her hand and the welcome warmth of the hand he laid over hers surprised her with the comfort they provided. She said good evening to the table at large and allowed her husband to escort her from the formal mess.

They remained silent until the lift doors closed behind them.

“I’ve never seen anyone knowingly bait an Inderian before,” Talon said, and she heard the laughter lurking in his voice.

“I couldn’t resist,” she confessed.

“There are less painful ways to die than at the hands of an enraged Inderian,” he advised.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Aside from your attempted suicide, dinner went very well.”

“Were you afraid I would shun the cutlery in favor of using my toes?” she asked, though she felt no rancor.

He grinned at her, and her breath stopped for a moment. “No, but it was your first diplomatic appearance in twelve years. It can’t have been easy for you.”

He was concerned about how she felt? Flabbergasted, Lia searched for a reply. “Old habits die hard,” she muttered and promptly felt like an idiot. The lift swished open and Talon led her to her door. He paused before it and turned to face her. He kept his guard up, but allowed her a peak behind it. The emotion she glimpsed, she couldn’t name.

Talon cupped her cheek with one hand. Despite the rough callused skin, his touch was gentle, and Lia had an unwelcome urge to rub her cheek against his palm like a satisfied feline. He stared into her eyes for a silent moment before leaning forward to brush his lips against hers. His lips were softer than they looked and warmer than she had imagined.

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The brief contact left her lips tingling. Chills crawled up her arms and an unidentified emotion swirled inside her. Lia locked her knees to stop them from turning to water.

Embarrassed by the affectionate gesture and her reaction to it, Lia tucked her chin in and turned her gaze to the floor.

“Goodnight, Lia,” he said stepping aside to allow her to reach the palm print pad. Though her hand looked steady as she raised it towards the door, it felt as though violent tremors shook it. The door slid open. She slanted her husband a look through her lashes and said, “Goodnight, Talon.”

She walked into the room with as much grace as she could manage, hoping any wobbling in her stride would be attributed to the unaccustomed gravity. 50

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Chapter Five

Lia slept hard and long. She only awakened when Ilexa checked on her after she missed the luncheon meal. After assuring her sister-in-law she was well, Lia stumbled into the lav for morning—or afternoon—ablutions.

The wound looked worse than the day before. The skin surrounding the puncture burned with fever, but Lia refused to consider surrendering to League medical care. That left the tricks she learned in the mine. She filled the sink with extremely hot water and soaked a washcloth in it. Gritting her teeth, she placed the steaming cloth over the wound. Repeating the process several times, she drained the infection as best she could and chose clothing that would not press against her side.

Once dressed, she grabbed a piece of fruit from the refrigeration unit and considered her options. She wanted to avoid Talon, but refused to hide in her room. After tossing the half-eaten fruit into the rubbish canister with a twinge of guilt at the waste, she pulled up a schematic of the ship on the computer panel on the wall of the living area. Escape remained her first priority. To do that, she needed to get a lay of the land—or ship as the case may be. She decided to take Commander Warrant up on his offer to tour the ship, figuring the man would be less suspicious of her questions than Talon.

*

Talon stood on the bridge with his feet braced apart, watching the blur of stars as the ship sailed past. After years of searching, he had found the Damaia, and he was returning her to her people. He had secured the future of his home world. Only Lia’s unhappiness prevented him from purring with satisfaction. The misery he had seen in her eyes had kept him awake most of the night. Still, Lia would come around. He would see to it she had as much say in her future as possible—not as much as she might like, but more than she’d had in the past.

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Despite her unhappiness, Talon smiled grimly. Once she had rested, he would have the answers to the questions that had haunted him since her disappearance. He surveyed the bridge with a critical eye. The captain ran a tight ship from his command chair in the center of the bridge. The officers at navigation and ops were young but efficient, their hands and eyes never leaving the computer boards before them. The tactical officer stood at attention behind the captain, his eyes watching the data that scrolled across his terminal. Occasionally, subordinate officers and NCOs, the noncommissioned officers, would appear on the bridge to take care of the miscellany that arose.

All in all, Talon was impressed. He’d seen few ships that ran as well as the Wrath of Aegir. It was a fitting vessel to return the Damaia to her rightful place. A chime sounded, heralding the arrival of the lift. The captain’s eyebrows rose, and Talon realized whoever arrived on the lift had not been summoned by a member of the bridge crew.

Lia stepped from the lift. She looked beautiful in a simple blue tunic that flowed over a pair of loose charcoal trousers. He watched her enter the bridge and noted the careful way she moved. There was a slight hesitancy to her step that she struggled to hide. He attributed it to nerves. It gave her a fragile air and raised his protective instincts. Genuinely pleased to see her, he crossed the bridge to greet her. Taking her small hand in his, he bowed and placed a kiss on the back of it. Stroking her delicate fingers with his thumb, he enjoyed the simple sensation of holding her hand. When the captain appeared beside him, he reluctantly released her.

Captain Artrane executed a formal salute. “Welcome to the bridge…”

His voice trailed off, and Talon realized the captain was unsure how to address the Damaia before his crew. Talon had insisted her identity remain confidential until their successful return to N’yota.

“I promised Lady Lia a tour of the ship last night,” Talon said.

“Of course.” The captain smiled. “What better place to start than with the command center? If you have any questions, m’lady, please do not hesitate to ask.”

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Lia gave a nod and murmured her thanks. The captain returned to his chair, leaving Talon to show her the bridge.

Talon extended his arm to her and felt more than saw her reluctance to take it. Her disinclination bothered him, but he masked his feelings carefully. “This is a Horizonclass starship,” he began, leading her around the deck and pointing out the different stations they passed. “It is the most advanced class of League ship. The Aegir has only been out of space dock two years.”

“Very impressive,” she replied in a neutral tone that told him nothing of her thoughts.

They completed the circuit of the bridge and Talon led her back to the lift. “Did you have any trouble locating me on the bridge? The computer should locate me or any member of your security detail on request.”

Lia shifted slightly away from him. “I was just exploring the ship. It was fortunate you were there.”

“You were just exploring the ship and thought you would start on the bridge?”

She didn’t bat an eye. “I thought I would start at the top of the ship and work my way down.”

He didn’t buy a word of her explanation. He knew she’d been intent on learning the ship while avoiding him. The flash of hurt that accompanied the disappointment she hadn’t sought him out surprised him. Still, he kept his voice even when he said, “I see.”

They walked a great portion of the large ship. Talon took care to point out areas of the ship he thought she might find interesting. During the tour, he kept the conversation light and focused on the places they visited.

“Would you like to see the rec deck—the recreation deck next?”

She made a noncommittal noise he took as agreement, and he showed her the fitness center, theater, hologrid and music room.

“Why don’t we stop for a cup of tea and a snack?” he suggested after a time. Lia gifted him with a grateful smile. “That sounds good.”

They ducked into a small social café on the deck they were touring. The eatery was virtually deserted and the couple tucked themselves into a private alcove away from the

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few other patrons. They placed their order on a computer pad that sat in the center of the table.

Talon leaned back in his chair and studied the beautiful woman across from him. Her brilliant eyes focused on the vast vacuum of space out the large portal. He rested a loose fist on the table and considered the best way to begin questioning her. “It took quite a while for the Guild rep to summon you to his office. While I enjoyed the song and dance he performed to stall, I’m curious why it took a long time for you to arrive.”

Lia gave a negligent, one-shouldered shrug. “He probably didn’t want to admit there’d been a cave-in.”

Talon sat forward. “Your mine caved in on you?”

“The tunnels into the mine did.”

“Were you injured?” His heart pounded hard with worry.

“I’m fine.” She fiddled with the napkin dispenser. “I suppose I should thank you. I’d still be in the mine right now, had you not shown up.”

“It usually takes that long for the Guild to mobilize a rescue?”

A genuine smile crossed her face and lit her eyes. The smile pleased him, but he didn’t understand what she found amusing about his question.

“It would take them that long to do the cost-benefit analysis on digging us out. After all, xyreon ore isn’t commanding the market share it used to.”

Talon didn’t know which shocked him more, the Guild’s greed or her casual acceptance of it. “They’ve left miners sealed in a mine before?”

Lia looked at him as though he’d asked if they were sitting down. “The Guild hasn’t cleared a collapse in over a year.”

Talon had been a League soldier—technically he still held rank. He’d seen death on battlefields and knew the need to emotionally distance oneself from the tragedy around you, but he’d never seen such nonchalant recognition of loss of life. Not even in the most hardened soldiers.

Nausea rolled his stomach as he studied his wife. Her fine-boned features gave her an air of delicateness he now knew to be false. She had to have a backbone of steel to have survived the hard life she described with such casualness. 54

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Again, he found himself taking care to school his tone and expression. He seemed to be working harder on his “public face” with his wife than he had over the entire course of the election. “I didn’t know that.”

“Actually, Lynaya predicted we’d be rescued, she will…she would be impossible to live with now.”

“The woman you gave your credits and glassworks to?”

Lia nodded. “She imagines she has ‘the sight’.”

“What do you think?” Talon asked, intentionally keeping the conversation light.

“I think if she had precog abilities, she wouldn’t be working in the mines.”

Talon laughed at that.

A civilian bearing a silver tray appeared and placed their tea and pastries on the table. A beautiful woman in a low-cut blouse and high-cut skirt, she bent further over than necessary to set Talon’s cup before him, giving him a clear view of ample breasts and brown nipples. When he failed to respond to her overt charms, she sniffed and left in a huff.

“What caused the tunnels to collapse?” he asked.

“The retractor exploded.”

“What’s a retractor?”

“It’s a safety device that lowers miners down the side of the cliff, where we hang and dig out the ore. It pulls us back up at the end of shift.”

Talon didn’t like the mental image her description conjured. The idea of his wife hanging off the side of a cliff by a machine that exploded and caused a cave-in made his stomach tighten. How in all the hells did the Damaia wind up living such a nightmare?

It was time to find out. “How did you come to work in the mines? What happened on the Cordoba when you disappeared?”

Lia’s expression closed, and her body tensed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” he said quietly. “It matters to our world and it matters to me.”

“I’m not going to discuss it,” she replied in a near shout. Her temper ignited like someone had flipped a switch and her eyes speared him with daggers of ice.

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Her reaction stunned him. She’d spoken with ease about a life of such despair. What could be so terrible in comparison that she wouldn’t even speak of it? “What happened aboard that ship? What happened to you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she repeated.

“Lia—” he began, letting determination infuse his voice.

“What? Are you going to torture it out of me?”

He spoke gently, hoping to reassure her and coax out an answer. “I’m not a monster, but I need to know what happened.”

“No, you don’t. Suffice it to say I survived.” Clearly rattled, Lia rose to her feet and tossed her napkin on the table.

Talon stood, and appreciating the value of a tactical retreat, temporarily dropped the subject and offered her an escape. “Ilexa was planning to watch a holostory this afternoon. Would you like to join her?”

Lia lifted a negligent shoulder. “I’ve never seen one.”

“You’ve never seen a holostory?”

“It wasn’t part of the Council’s curriculum.”

“We definitely have to remedy that.”

*

Talon took her to the hologrid and excused himself. For her part, Ilexa appeared delighted to have her company.

“What kind of story do you want to watch?” Ilexa asked from her position beside the input screen.

There were kinds of stories?

“Whatever you were planning to see,” Lia hedged.

“You have to have a preference. Romance? Comedy? Drama?”

Lia seized the most innocuous option. “Comedy.”

“Oh, there’s a new one out I haven’t seen by my favorite actress. Let’s watch that one.”

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“Let’s,” Lia agreed. For some reason she didn’t want Ilexa to know she’d never seen a holostory before. Likely the result of misplaced pride. Ilexa selected an option and dimmed the lights before joining Lia on the oversized sofa situated in front of the screen. The story began immediately, but Lia’s mind drifted. Talon’s questions, even though she’d expected them, had raised the ghosts of her past. She hadn’t thought of that day on the Cordoba in years, but her mind kept the memories as vivid as if the events had occurred yesterday. Anya’s screams echoed in her head and her chest constricted as she remembered the kindly old woman who had overseen her tutelage on long trips.

Fear pulsed in her veins and desperation flooded her mind. The terror from years past encroached on the present, firming her resolve. She had to escape. She had to get away. Life as the Damaia held too much risk, and she had the experience to prove it. Ilexa laughed beside her, and Lia forced her features to reflect amusement even though she had no idea what occurred on the screen. Satisfied her sister-in-law had immersed herself in the comedic antics, Lia concentrated on her own thoughts. She had known her two personal guards aboard the Cordoba for more than half her life. The fact one of them had tried to kill her still stunned her. In all those years, he had harbored a hatred based in a bone-deep, familial ferocity that she had never seen. His attempt on her life had taught her a valuable lesson. Never trust anyone. That had been the reason she hadn’t contacted Talon. In fact, the first person she thought of contacting was him, but sitting at the communications console, she had changed her mind. She’d known the guards better than she had known her husband. For all she knew, he felt the same way the assassins had. For a twelve-year-old with a massive crush on the man, admitting he might not be the hero she dreamed of had been excruciating.

Uncertain who to trust, she’d sat on the ship for two days. Though trapped with the bodies of her assassins and her saviors, for the first time in her life, she’d been completely alone. When rescue came from an unlikely source, she’d believed the gods had finally smiled on her. Even the crash on Tmesis had seemed a blessing despite the tragedy.

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Ilexa laughed out loud, and Lia dragged her attention back to the holostory, which she was surprised to see was ending.

“What did you think?” Ilexa asked.

“It was funny,” Lia lied.

“I like her earlier works better. Would you like to see another one?”

The thought of sitting in the dark with her thoughts wasn’t pleasant. “Perhaps later.”

Ilexa stood up and stretched, elongating her long frame to display a figure that would make most men sit up and beg. “Trust me. You don’t want to return to your quarters just yet. I think Talon was going to arrange for some ‘reading material’ to be waiting on you.”

“Reading material?”

“He thinks you need to catch up on events and refresh your knowledge of history and religion,” Ilexa said with a grin. “In other words, incredibly boring tomes guaranteed to knock you unconscious with the first paragraph.”

“I doubt I’ll read them.”

“Be careful, Big Brother likely plans to grill you afterward.”

Lia rolled her eyes. “Great.” The last thing she wanted to do was face more questions.

“Do you play Nitze Squares?”

“Never heard of it, but I’m not used to this much inactivity,” she warned.

“Then Nitze Squares is perfect. It’s a physical competition. There’s a Nitze set in the gym. I should warn you, I’m very competitive.”

“Good,” Lia replied, already looking forward to the game. Anything to occupy her mind would be welcome. “As am I.”

Though it aggravated her side, she enjoyed the physical activity. She’d picked up the game quickly and trounced Ilexa in every match. The workout helped exorcize the ghosts of her past, at least temporarily.

Exhausted and drenched in sweat, she returned to her quarters to prepare for dinner. She wore a slight smile when she stepped into the shower, remembering Ilexa’s demand for a rematch. Lia loved winning.

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Now all she had to do was find a way off the ship when they docked at DeKalb Station, then a way off the station while under heavy guard. Her shoulders slumped at the thought, and she hoped the gods might once again smile on her escape.

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Chapter Six

Caden continued to apologize from the time she left her cabin until they disembarked via the gangplank and stepped onto the small space station. Apparently, the young man despised seeing the Damaia dressed in common clothes and received as any other tourist. For herself, Lia could not be more pleased with the situation. Talon had disembarked an hour earlier with all the pomp and fanfare due a visiting dignitary. While holding the highest elected title on N’yota was impressive on its own, the station personnel also recognized his position as husband to a planetary sovereign. Now that he had left, the private bay was as quiet as the grave. Talon objected to her shopping trip, seeing the excursion as an unnecessary risk, but he’d relented and agreed to allow her to leave the ship as long as she drew no unnecessary attention to herself and stayed with Ilexa and two guards. The guards had been a sticking point that had almost cost her the chance to escape. Talon wanted a minimum of eight guards at her side. No matter her creativity, Lia could never hope to slip eight League soldiers. Fortunately, Ilexa had pointed out if they took that many soldiers, he might as well hang a sign around Lia’s neck announcing her importance. The two had dickered back and forth, much to Lia’s amusement, before agreeing Caden and Thane would act as escorts. Talon wanted Vardin glued to her side, but an Inderian guaranteed unwanted attention.

Talon had relented, allowing the excursion because she wanted to visit the station. That realization still had Lia reeling. No one had ever done something simply because it would please her. It also increased her determination to escape. Talon was proving himself to be even more charming than she’d imagined him in her childhood dreams. While he had not given an inch on his beliefs regarding the Prophecy, he’d listened to her. Disagreed, but listened.

Despite his obvious need to understand what had sent her to Tmesis, he hadn’t pushed for details about the Cordoba. He’d seen her pain and given her time. She knew 60

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he intended to discover the truth, but wanted her to tell him when she was ready, not because he’d pushed her until she broke.

He had held her heart when she was a girl, more a hero of her imagination than reality. As an adult, she was not surprised to find herself attracted to the man—he was very handsome—but she was surprised to find herself truly liking him. The combination of girlhood dreams, physical attraction and genuine caring would be disastrous. She might actually find herself wanting to return to N’yota, which would be tantamount to signing her own death warrant.

Lia reached up and unconsciously slid a hand beneath her hair. The transmitter chip had been easy to find, once she knew where it lay. Cutting it out without damaging it proved difficult—especially since she couldn’t see what she was doing—forcing her to make a wider incision than necessary.

In spite of her crude surgery technique, the transmitter now rested—functioning—in her pocket. Her hair and the high-necked tunic hid the results of her handiwork. The tunic proved to be a double blessing. Not only did it hide the damage around her neck, it flowed to her knees, allowing her to wear pants that hung low enough on her hips to not rub the wound in her side. Despite her ministrations, the infection worsened and Lia knew she ran a fever. She kept the symptoms hidden and when asked, attributed the flush of her skin to the excitement of visiting the station. The four days she had spent aboard ship had allowed her to acclimate to the lighter gravity. Trying to escape while constantly tripping over her feet would be impossible. Now, all she had to do was keep her eyes open and wait for the right moment to escape. The heavy security surrounding her made it impossible to create a detailed plan of action, but she knew the opportunity would arise if she kept herself alert. When the small group first left the ship, it appeared as sterile as any other docking bay, and her initial impressions of the station did not change until they reached the promenade. Once the doors parted, revealing the central hub of the station, Lia paused in amazement, causing the man behind them to run into her guards. Thane and Caden whirled on the klutz with blasters drawn, causing the man to panic and run. Oblivious to the man’s plight, Lia stood transfixed by the scene.

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Ilexa linked arms with her, demonstrating a casual affection Lia found alien.

“Amazing isn’t it?” she asked. “Can you believe my idiot brother thought we might be willing to miss this?”

Colorful stalls lined the corridors of the promenade with entrances to permanent stores peeking from between them. The crowd filled the marketplace to capacity as people moved in a dizzying dance between the merchants.

“Amazing,” Lia agreed. Ditching Ilexa and her guards amid this chaos shouldn’t prove too difficult.

Thane stepped forward as if reading her thoughts. “Lia, stay between Caden and myself. Ilexa, no darting off to examine things. We will stay together and proceed in an agreed upon fashion.”

Ilexa flipped her hair over her shoulder. “They just love spontaneity. Can’t you tell?”

“Where should we begin?” Lia asked. She needed clothing of her own and items to trade when she left League territory.

“Let’s start with the basics,” Lex suggested, shooting Thane an evil smile and pointing towards a store. “Lingerie. You men won’t mind carrying the pink bags around for us, will you?”

Caden turned bright red, but Thane’s expression remained implacable. “Any purchases the two of you do not carry will be sent to the ship via store courier. Caden and I cannot afford to be encumbered while…shopping.”

Undaunted, Ilexa’s smile didn’t waiver. “Don’t worry, gentlemen. I’m certain the store has chairs you can rest in while we try on unmentionables.”

The image of the easily embarrassed Caden and implacable Thane sitting outside a ladies’ dressing room, surrounded by racks of bras and shelves of panties, made Lia smile. The men beside her radiated a sense of despair, adding to her amusement. In the store, Ilexa missed no opportunity to annoy the men, seeking their opinion on every item she picked up from a plush, floor-length robe designed for cold nights to the skimpiest see-through panties. Lia believed the obscenely large number of items Ilexa insisted the two of them purchase had more to do with embarrassing the guards than any actual need or want.

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Ilexa dragged Lia through a variety of stores in a whirlwind of laughter and commercial greed. While many stores agreed to send their purchases directly to the ship, Lia managed to hold on to several bags.

Lia observed the people around her. Talon’s security concerns appeared unfounded. The throng milling about showed more interest in haggling for the best deals than noticing others around them. The two guards appeared to have reached similar conclusions, allowing her freer rein as they progressed along the promenade. They passed by a restaurant with a large window displaying an unusual animal the size of a small suitcase. Clearly some form of cat, the animal was beautiful. Its fur shone a brilliant white with charcoal-colored stripes that wrapped around its large head and ran down its back. Tufted ears flickered back and forth signaling wariness. The animal’s four paws were large compared to the rest of its body giving it a comical appearance. A long, sleek tail curved around the back of the window.

Lia stopped to admire the animal’s unique beauty, and to her surprise, the creature stared back at her with intelligent eyes.

“What is that?” Lia asked.

“A gimfrey,” Caden replied, his eyes not stopping from their scan of the crowd.

“It’s beautiful,” she almost whispered.

Ilexa’s silver eyes fixed on Lia with sympathy. “Many consider it a delicacy.”

“It’s going to be eaten?” Lia shouted, shocked.

“It’s a rare creature, making it outrageously expensive,” Caden added. “I’ve never tasted one.”

Lia watched the beautiful animal dart to the far side of its glass enclosure when the restaurant door opened, its eyes opened wide in fear.

“Look at it,” she gasped. “It knows what will happen.”

“That’s sad,” Caden said, clearly apathetic to the conversation.

“We have to rescue it,” Lia announced.

That arrested Caden’s attention. “What?”

“I can’t leave the poor thing to be eaten. Especially when meat can be synthesized to taste exactly like animal and be even healthier.”

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Caden looked slightly alarmed. “But that’s part of what makes eating a rare animal so…well, rare.”

Something about the trapped expression in the gimfrey’s sentient eyes called to Lia’s soul. “I’m not leaving the poor thing to be killed.”

With those words, Lia darted around a surprised Caden and into the restaurant. Thane changed tack fluidly, never leaving Lia’s side. She proceeded directly to the maitre d’ station.

“How much for the gimfrey in the window,” she asked. “I want it alive.”

“Madam, I assure you our chef is unparalleled,” the maitre d’ responded in a shocked tone of voice.

“This has nothing to do with the capabilities of your chef,” Lia responded. “I want the gimfrey.”

The maitre d’ appeared nonplused. “The cost for the gimfrey meal is 10,000 credits.”

“Done,” Lia replied. “On the condition I take the animal alive.”

The man before her blinked, clearly having expected her to haggle over the price.

“As you wish.”

“I want the gimfrey now,” Lia snapped.

“Of course,” the man assured her. He swallowed, clearly nervous in the face of Lia’s fury. “Though we have never provided a gimfrey to a patron alive before. I am not certain how to…deliver the purchase.”

“You give me the gimfrey,” Lia informed him with all the haughtiness of a queen.

“Of course, ma’am,” the man rushed to assure her. “However, when we serve a gimfrey, the animal is shot within the display case. We’ve never pulled one out alive before.”

“How did you get him in?” Lia asked.

“Her,” the maitre d’ corrected. “The current gimfrey is female.”

Apparently aware of the rapid deterioration of the conversation, Thane stepped forward. “The lady wishes to know how the animal came to be in the display case.”

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Lia fixed a steely glare on the restaurant employee as Thane awaited his reply. The maitre d’ ran a nervous finger around his collar, tugging at it in a way that made it obvious it felt too tight.

“The hunters dumped the creature in the case and slammed the door. We only open the door to slide in food and water and to…prepare the meal.”

“Fine. Open the door and take her out,” Lia instructed reasonably.

“Ma’am, this is a wild animal. Even though it is a baby, if we open the door, it will attack.”

“A baby?” Lia asked, aghast. “You planned to feed an infant to your patrons?”

“Ma’am, this is an animal that will grow to two and a half meters in length and weigh over 200 kilograms,” the man stressed. “Its meat is most tender—”

“Do you have a box large enough to hold the animal in comfort?” Thane demanded.

“Yes.”

“Please get a box, a container of the animal’s food and box sealant,” Thane instructed. His words stayed polite, but his tone commanded and brooked no refusal. “I also want written instructions for proper care of the creature.”

The pompous member of the restaurant staff motioned for a busboy and gave him hurried whispered instructions.

While the small group waited for the box, Ilexa wandered over to the interior restaurant window of the display case. She tapped lightly on the window, before turning to Lia. “She’s actually quite cute. I can’t believe people would eat this darling thing.”

Grateful for her sister-in-law’s support, Lia moved to stand next to her. “She’s more than cute. Look into her eyes. She’s quite intelligent.”

Lia placed her palm against the glass, desperate to reassure the small, frightened creature on the other side. The gimfrey moved hesitantly towards Lia’s palm. Her small head butted against the glass separating herself from Lia’s hand.

“I think she knows you are here to save her,” Ilexa said, sounding surprised. “Look at how she responds to you.”

At Lia’s side, Caden drummed agitated fingers against his leg. “All that training and effort put into my career and here I am rescuing dinner,” he muttered.

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Lia bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. Caden’s babysitting assignment clearly pricked his fledgling warrior pride. She felt a moment’s guilt at the damage her escape would do to his career, but quashed it. Given her assassination versus Caden’s pride, sacrificing his pride was a no-brainer. Two men in restaurant uniforms edged near the display case. One held a box with crude, hastily punched air holes. The other wore very thick, heat-resistant gloves. Both displayed expressions as terrified as the gimfrey.

“By the Powers,” Lia swore. “Just unlock the bloody case. I’ll get her out.”

“I don’t think—”

“Out of the question—”

“Absolutely not—”

Lia glared at her companions. “She’s not going to hurt me. She knows I’m here to help.”

Thane crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s a wild animal that’s trapped and afraid. Survival instincts make any creature unpredictable, even the most docile house pet would be dangerous in this situation.”

“And you want them to grab her and shove her into the box? That will just frighten her more,” Lia argued.

Caden snorted, turning his attention to a buxom brunette that strutted past their party. Ilexa’s gentle eyes had not left the small creature. “I think Lia is right. The gimfrey trusts her.”

Thane shook his head. At least Lia assumed the bare twitch was a head shake. The man had the communication and people skills of a boulder. Lia stroked her fingertips over the glass, hoping to reassure the little being. “At least let me try.”

“Why not crack the door and let Lia slide a hand in? That way we can gage her reaction and at worst, Lia will get a scratch,” Ilexa proposed. Thane did not acknowledge Ilexa’s suggestion with as much as a flicker of an eyelid. Caden sauntered over to the door to keep the large-breasted beauty in his sights. 66

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Deciding to ignore Thane, Lia turned to the employees. “Unlock the door and let me stick my fingers in.”

Eyeing Thane, the man carrying the box sidled to the case. He set the box on the floor and keyed the lock. When the mechanism unlocked with an audible click, the employee darted around Lia, returning to stand with the maitre d’. Lia moved back towards the case, only to come up hard against Thane’s arm.

“I will do it,” he stated.

“Be careful not to hurt her,” Lia warned.

Thane’s stony expression slipped enough to give Lia an ironic look, before he cracked the small door open and slid his fingers into the case. The animal whimpered and backed into the farthest corner of the case. He slid his arm further in. The gimfrey’s eyes remained fixed on the hand approaching her. When Thane’s hand came within a few centimeters of her, the gimfrey bared her teeth and hissed. Thane pulled his arm free.

“Give me the gloves,” he instructed, turning to the restaurant staff. Lia took advantage of his inattention to slip her arm into the case. Thane grabbed her shoulders, but before he drew her back, the gimfrey stretched her body out, rubbing her face against Lia’s extended hand.

Thane released her, and Lia stretched her hand out to scratch the animal behind its ears. A low thrumming sound of satisfaction emanated from the gimfrey’s throat. Lia pushed the door open with her free hand and reached to lift the gimfrey out. Ignoring the stunner in Thane’s hand and the incredulous looks of the staff, Lia pulled the small animal to her chest, tucking its head beneath her chin. “Hello, little one,”

she crooned. “No one’s going to hurt you. I’ve got you.”

Ilexa extended a cautious hand to stroke the creature’s back. “She needs a name.”

“Asha,” Lia decided, rubbing her chin against the gimfrey’s head. “Her name is Asha.”

“I like it.” Ilexa grinned at her.

“Here are care and feeding instructions for the gimfrey.”

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The maitre d’ extended written instructions towards Thane, but Ilexa snatched them from his hand. “We have everything Asha needs on the ship, and I’m certain we can find her some toys on the station.”

“Yes, yes. The station has many wonderful offerings,” the maitre d’ assured them.

“In fact, there is a pet store several doors down from here.”

His obvious desperation to get these strange people out of his fine establishment tempted Lia to remain out of a sense of perversity. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“If you put the gimfrey in the box, I’ll see it’s delivered safely to the ship. It will be waiting for you in your quarters,” Thane ordered.

Lia snuggled Asha close. “I’ll carry her with me to the pet shop.”

Thane gave another twitch of his head, which Lia interpreted as a nod, and she allowed him to lead her out of the restaurant.

Back on the promenade, Thane spoke. “I cannot guarantee the safety of the animal should defense become necessary. It would be better to send it to the ship.”

Lia gave a noncommittal nod. “Let’s go straight to the pet shop.”

The pet shop proved a wonderful resource. Lia obtained a satchel designed to carry small animals. She slung the strap crosswise across her chest and settled Asha in the bag. She also took the opportunity to consolidate several of the bags she carried to make room for the provisions she purchased for Asha. No one questioned her purchase of items easily obtainable aboard ship. Lia assumed this was due to the strange behavior she displayed at the restaurant. If they suspected she planned to escape, they’d hustle her back to the Aegir faster than she could blink. She also used the consolidation to take stock of the items she obtained. Satisfied with the bartering value of the jewelry and gadgets she carried, Lia turned her attention to making her escape.

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Chapter Seven

She planned to create a diversion and slip away in the melee. Fortunately, a diversion found her. After leaving the pet shop, Lia and Ilexa browsed the stalls set up along the corridor.

“Be careful,” Ilexa warned her in an anxious whisper. “These merchants thrive on haggling and are always looking to take advantage of the unwary.”

Lia followed her sister-in-law to a merchant whose stand was draped in vibrant cloth and watched amused as Ilexa demonstrated her bargaining skills. The woman had a heart of gold, but couldn’t haggle to save her life. Thank the Powers Ilexa did not have to survive in the mining world.

Ilexa shot Lia a triumphant smile, after paying three times the value for a bolt of material.

“Nicely done,” Lia said, unable to disappoint the kind woman beside her. The small group turned to leave the stall, when a dispute erupted before them. A rather large woman with six children in tow began screaming at a man selling pastries from a cart. Taking advantage of their mother’s distraction the half-dozen children launched themselves into the crowd. Lia watched in amusement as her two elite League guards were jostled aside by small children.

“Stop them,” the rotund woman screeched, grabbing at the nearest urchin. Thane and Caden automatically reached for the children, while Ilexa danced back, holding the bolt of material above her head and out of reach of sticky fingers. The opportunity was perfect. Lia ducked behind the merchant’s stall. She palmed the transmitter and made a dash for the nearest door off the promenade. Darting into a hallway, she surreptitiously dumped the damn thing into the bag of a man walking in the opposite direction.

The quiet of the corridor proved a direct contrast to the bustle of the promenade. Lia listened to the clip of her shoes as she headed towards the docking bays.

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A quick look at a station map posted on the wall directed her towards the commercial bay area. She had held on to a small number of her personal credits when she gave the rest to Lynaya. She wasn’t sure how far she could travel on them, but was confident she could get out of League territory. After that, she would barter with the items she’d purchased on the station. Not to mention, she wasn’t afraid of a little hard work. Lia entered the smaller commercial bay and bypassed several large transports. Those would be the first they checked for her. She spotted a dilapidated cruiser in the far corner of the bay. It looked like it might fall apart if someone sneezed on it. Not the sort of vessel the Damaia would ever seek passage on.

She approached the man crouched beneath the ship, tinkering with the wiring. Lia knelt beside the ship, careful of the oil spills. “Where are you headed?”

“Scarpan Nebula,” the man responded without looking away from the ship.

“How much to hitch a ride?”

“Don’t take passengers,” he replied, one hand inching towards a pair of pliers. Lia hefted the pliers and thrust them into his outstretched hand. “I’m not looking for anything other than a bunk and a lift. You can drop me at the first station you reach.”

The man turned to face her, revealing a filthy face and yellow teeth. Greasy hair hung in clumps around his face. The putrid smell of his breath assailed her, and selfpreservation had her breathing through her mouth.

“Don’t take passengers,” he repeated. His eyes roamed along Lia’s trim frame, and he licked his thick lips. “Maybe I make exception…for right price.”

Lia glared at him. “I am only dealing in cash.”

He sniffed as if she had offended his delicate sensibilities. “Then no ride.”

Outraged, Lia rose. Her eyes swept the hanger searching for another option. She was determined to escape, but not at this captain’s price. She retraced her steps towards the main area of the hanger deck. Halfway to the center of the bay, her brain registered the unusual silence. Lia froze. The bay had been quiet when she entered, but now all noise had completely ceased. Protective instincts had her shifting the bag holding Asha, and wrapping her body around the smaller one she carried. Hunched over the bundle, she edged towards the 70

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storage containers stacked near the closest wall. She unstrapped the satchel and lay the bundle down behind the containers. Fortunately, Asha slept soundly. No doubt worn out by the stress of the day.

Lia edged cautiously around the far side of the containers. She felt foolish, but every fiber she had screamed in warning.

A glance around the bay showed ships docked in various slips, but no people. A movement glimpsed from the corner of her eye made her turn towards the entrance to the hanger. A young man in a Fleet Delivery Systems uniform hurried from the bay, his gaze fixed on the small, handheld pad he carried.

Lia frowned, still unsettled. Where the hell was everyone? If an evacuation occurred, station personnel would announce it over the docking bay’s loudspeaker. Unless that system was damaged by whatever warranted an evacuation. Under those circumstances, an emergency signal would be sent to all handheld units with instructions. Naturally, she didn’t have a handheld unit.

She stepped further out into the bay, away from the shelter of the container bins, trying to spot any movement. It could be an entertainment event on the station that had drawn everyone away. In that case, she had no choice but to wait for pilots to return or use the opportunity to stow away.

Of course, with her luck, she’d stow away on a ship headed deeper into League territory, if not N’yota itself.

Reaching the center of the bay, she gave the area a more thorough look, turning in a small circle, but seeing no one. She clenched her fists, wanting to scream in frustration. She didn’t have time for this. She had to get off the station before Talon found her. An object whizzing past her ear and the sound of a small explosion coming from the top of one of the ships caught her attention. Confused, she pivoted towards the sound, only to be knocked back by the force of something striking her beneath the collarbone. Pain burst in her chest, stealing her breath.

She rocked backwards, trying to recover when something struck her arm from a different direction. Belatedly, she understood two people were shooting some sort of weapon at her from opposing positions.

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Worry for Asha almost sent her back to the containers for cover, but she realized the animal was safe where she was and unlikely to escape the satchel designed to hold her. Lia stood closer to the doors than the containers. Spinning on her heel and setting her teeth against the pain, she bolted for the exit.

An assassin’s shot hit her again, striking her in the shoulder blade. The impact and pain drove her to her knees. Panic and the will to survive had her scrambling back to her feet in spite of the grayness edging her vision.

The doors, still several meters away, slid open, and Talon surged into the docking bay, Caden hot on his heels.

Talon barely glanced at her before he raised a blaster and fired. She heard a scream followed by a loud thud. Talon had hit one of the killers and knocked him from his perch with military precision.

She took two more stumbling steps before Talon’s body hit hers, knocking her to the ground. The fact he used his body to shield hers barely registered before the blinding pain sliced through her consciousness and sent her tumbling into the blackness beyond.

*

Talon stood over Lia’s still form like a wrathful god. Someone had attacked his wife. Blood roared in his ears as he stared at the small figure lying on the hospital bed. Fury boiled in his veins, and he battled back his primal urges. When he found those responsible, he would see their blood run in rivers at his feet. He heard the groan of metal and realized he had bent the bed’s rail. He forced his grip to relax.

The sickbay medics moved cautiously around him, making adjustments to the medication flowing through Lia’s system. No one dared suggest he move back.

“What’s her status?” he snapped out.

The doctor moved to stand across the bed from him. “The projectiles have been removed and those wounds are already healing. We've bandaged the hole in the back of her neck. It's the wound in her side gives me greater concern. It is badly infected, and the 72

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infection has spread throughout her system. I am unfamiliar with this strain, and it appears resistant to the antibiotics we have tried.”

“What are the other treatment options,” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“Once she is stabilized, we can cycle her blood through an external purifier to remove the infection. It’s a slow process, but it’s the best option right now,” the doctor said. “We will continue to analyze the infection and if we are able to isolate antibodies before beginning the dialysis, we will use the less invasive treatment.”

Talon scowled at the doctor. “I don’t want her to suffer.”

Dr. Brinson drew himself up with an insulted huff. “Of course not, First Minister.”

The doctor was spared more of Talon’s wrath when Lia’s eyes fluttered open. Talon leaned over to fill her vision. “You’re safe,” he reassured her, unable to help the crooning tone of his voice.

He stared into her pale face. Her odd eyes shone more gold than blue. He watched, feeling strangely helpless as those eyes filled with alarm and her head began to thrash.

“It’s alright, Lia,” he reassured her, cupping her face in his hands. “You’ve been given a neuro-blocker. It causes temporary paralysis from your neck down. Don’t try to speak. Your vocal chords are affected by the paralysis.”

He had stilled her head with his hands, but her eyes continued to flick side to side in panic. “Lia,” he said, raising his voice. “Lia, look at me.”

Her eyes met his, speaking eloquent volumes of terror. Dr. Brinson appeared at his side. “Perhaps I should sedate her.”

“Release the block,” Talon ordered, not breaking eye contact with his wife. The doctor stiffened. “I will not. I am the doctor here, First Minister.”

“Hang on, Lia,” Talon soothed, before responding to the doctor. “Dr. Brinson, release the block.”

“I don’t think—”

Talon whirled on him, grabbing him by the neck. “Release the block,” he thundered.

“Now.”

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The doctor choked on a gasp and nodded at one of the techs. Satisfied with the result, Talon returned to hover over his wife. “They are going to reverse the paralysis. You’ll be able to move in just a moment.”

“I want to go on record as saying this is against medical protocol,” Brinson said. Talon snarled at the doctor, who beat a hasty retreat. The medic making adjustments to Lia’s medication smiled at Brinson’s withdrawal.

“The paralysis will release in about a minute,” she informed Talon. Talon cupped his wife’s face again. The fear in her eyes causing a vice-like tightness in his chest. “You’ll be able to move in a minute. Just keep looking at me,” he soothed. He kept his eyes fixed on hers, until she gave a shuddering gasp and bolted up in the bed, the pain making her go impossibly whiter. Talon grabbed her shoulders to steady her, then lowered her back down, while she panted shallow, gasping breaths. Talon kept his gentle grip on her shoulders, massaging them with a tender touch while murmuring nonsensical words to her. When the panic receded from her eyes and faded into embarrassment, he released her.

Without breaking eye contact, he leaned back. “Claustrophobia?” he asked. A rosy flush stained her cheeks. “Something like that,” she replied, dropping her gaze from his.

“What happened?” he asked.

She shrugged one shoulder and winced at the pain it caused.

“Lia?” he prompted.

She turned her head away from him before responding. “I was working a tunnel between two excavations, when there was a trembler. The tunnel collapsed.”

Talon waited, but she remained stubbornly silent. “The entrances filled with rubble?”

“The whole tunnel filled. I was buried alive.”

He studied her emotionless profile. “How long were you trapped?”

“Thirty-one hours.”

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

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Fury at the circumstances of her childhood rolled in his stomach, churning bile. Yet, despite the hell she had endured, she’d still tried to escape him. To return to a life rife with danger and pain. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled. She was going to be safe whether she liked it or not. And she hadn’t been safe. Even with all the secrecy shrouding her return, someone had located her and sent assassins to kill her. If it hadn’t been for blessings of the gods, he would be standing over her corpse right now. Preparing burial rites for his wife. Forcing his jaw to unclench, he kept the rage from his voice when he spoke to her. Anger would not help him bridge the gap between them, and he needed to bridge that gap. Without her trust, his ability to see to her security remained limited.

“I won’t let them restart the block,” he reassured her, dropping the issue of her past for the moment.

“Thank you,” his wife whispered, turning her face back towards his. “Was anyone else injured?”

The two assassins had been killed, but Talon didn’t include them when he answered.

“No one. They only targeted you.”

“The story of my life,” Lia managed to sound wry, despite the whisper-thin thread of her voice.

“What do you—”

“What about Asha?” she asked with alarm, struggling to sit up again. “I put her down behind the storage containers.”

“You mean the gimfrey you freed from the eatery?” Talon felt the beginnings of amusement beneath his rage. He wished he had seen her determined to rescue an entrée from a restaurant.

She nodded, but the look of alarm did not fade.

“Ilexa had her put in your quarters. It appears the creature suffered no injury, though no one else is brave enough to get close to an angry gimfrey.”

“She’s not angry. She’s frightened. You’d be frightened too if someone wanted to kill you,” she snapped.

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“Are you frightened, Lia?” he asked with sudden insight. “Is that why you don’t want to return to N’yota?”

Her eyes flashed with pride. “I’m not frightened. I simply don’t want my life to come to an abrupt end at the hands of assassins, nor do I want to spend my days cloistered to avoid them.”

“I can’t blame you for that, but I can promise you this, Lia. If anyone wants to kill you, they will have to go through me to do it,” Talon vowed, more serious than he had ever been in his life.

His charming bride was so moved by his declaration she rolled her eyes. “Great. Two bodies instead of one. That’ll show ’em.”

Torn between outrage and amusement, Talon was spared a response when the medic reappeared at his side.

“Because we are not using the neuro-blocker, I will administer an old-fashioned pain reliever.” The medic shouldered Talon aside and offered Lia a sincere smile. “I need to warn you, Lady, the drug will make you feel sleepy and a bit stupid. It’s a lot like being drunk.”

“I’ve never been drunk,” Lia replied, eyeing the medic with undisguised suspicion,

“and I don’t mind a little pain. I’d rather just go back to my quarters. No offense, but I don’t like doctors.”

“I don’t like them either,” the medic confessed with a grin. “I just work for them. There’s no reason you can’t go back to your quarters once you’ve been given something for the pain—as long as someone stays with you. Without it, the doc’ll want you to stay here to better monitor the stress the pain is putting on your system.”

Talon frowned, not liking the course of the conversation. “I’m not sure moving her is such a good idea. What if she has a bad reaction? And what about the dialysis?”

The medic smiled at his concern, making Talon’s frown deepen. “The infection can be cleared up just as easily in her quarters as it can here.”

“You can move the purifier to her quarters?” he asked.

“Yes, but I don’t think it’s necessary,” the medic returned her attention to Lia. “You got the wound in a xyreon mine, didn’t you?”

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“Yes.” Lia looked surprised at the question.

“My family worked in Guild mines across the outer quadrant,” the medic confessed.

“I don’t think it’s an infection. I think it’s xyreon poisoning.”

Lia glanced at Talon before replying. “There’s no such thing as xyreon poisoning.”

“It’s very rare, and can only occur when the xyreon ore is introduced to internal organs directly. While none of your organs were punctured, several were scraped when you were injured. That’s enough to cause the poisoning.”

Talon crossed his arms and studied the medic closely. What she said went against everything he knew about the “safeness” of xyreon energy, but his gut told him the woman spoke the truth. It would explain why Ilexa, a powerful mystic healer, failed to detect the illness consuming Lia. Ilexa’s gift lay within detecting a body’s natural intruders, something poison was not. However, he would not blindly trust this strange woman. Not with the life of his wife.

“And you know how to treat this poison? Assuming it exists,” he asked, lacing his voice with skepticism and narrowing his gaze on the medic. She drew herself up to her full height—about his mid-chest—and responded, “I was taught to treat many such things by my grandmother. The treatment is simple. A poultice is mixed and applied to the wound to draw the poison out. The body will then be able to eliminate the traces already in the bloodstream.”

Talon admired the medic’s spunk. She also had a quality the doctor lacked—care for her patient. “How do I know this poultice will work? This could be a delaying tactic that will allow an infection to kill my wife.”

Lia gasped, likely at the menace in his voice, but he ignored her. The medic appeared amused rather than intimidated. “Because if I’m wrong, I’ll be dead. If not at your hand, at the hand of the Inderian you travel with. An Inderian vengeance death is not something any sane person would seek.”

“Yes, but Lia would still be dead,” he pointed out coldly.

“First Minister, if you are asking me to prove my intentions, I cannot. All I can do is tell you I took an oath to do no harm, and it is an oath I hold dear. I offered to help move your wife to her quarters because she is clearly uncomfortable here—though why anyone

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would be nervous in such a cold, sterile and foreign environment as a sickbay is beyond me—not to hide any part of my treatment. I can apply the poultice here with the doctor to observe her vitals if you like, assuming I can convince him something other than his scientifically engineered nano-treatment would work.”

Talon noted Lia’s smile at the dry sarcasm the medic showed. He also liked the young medic’s attitude. Plus, she had a point. No one would be able to prove their intentions to his satisfaction.

“I would like to try the poultice,” Lia spoke up. “In my quarters and out of this disinfected hellhole.”

Talon heard the command in her voice and felt more of his rage subside. Whoever had attacked her hadn’t damaged her spirit. He decided to let the medic apply the treatment. After all, he held the ace she didn’t know about. Now that they knew of the poison—if indeed that’s what it was—Ilexa could tune her senses to it, in that mysterious way she had, and monitor Lia’s progress.

The medic wouldn’t need to fear Vardin’s vengeance if she tried to injure Lia. There was nothing more fearsome than his sister in defense of those in her care.

“The pain reliever will not interfere with the poultice?” he asked.

“Talon, I don’t want—”

“Do you want to stay in sickbay?” he asked, but his tone made it clear he would insist she stay if she chose to forgo the pain relief. Lia glared at him, then fixed that more-golden-than-blue gaze on the medic. “I want as little medication as possible.”

“I would feel the same in your position,” the medic responded. “I make an even worse patient than you do.”

A faint smile teased the corners of his wife’s lips, and Talon could have kissed the medic for that alone.

“We’ll proceed,” he decreed.

The medic placed a pain-relieving patch on Lia’s upper arm, explaining how it worked as she attached it. Talon summoned another medic with an imperious crook of his finger. “Have my sister meet me in Lady Lia’s quarters.”

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The male medic gave a brief nod of his head and scurried away.

“We can move her to her rooms now,” the female medic announced. Lia smiled at Talon with a loopy a grin. Her eyes appeared glazed and unfocused. She lifted a wavering hand to stroke the side of his face.

“Down in the mines we chip at the rocks,” she belted out in a somewhat slurred manner. Only to stop and look puzzled, before repeating the first line of the ditty. The medic had apparently been honest about the effects of the pain medication, and he found his wife's reaction amusing.

While still singing the same line, Lia tried to stand and would have fallen on her face without Talon’s quick reflexes. He swept her up in his arms, one arm under her knees and the other wrapped around her shoulders.

“I’s can walks,” she objected, even as she snuggled into him. His body tightened and he couldn’t have put her down if someone had pulled a blaster on him.

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Chapter Eight

Talon found Ilexa pacing the corridor outside the Damaia’s chamber. He passed his sister and slapped his hand against the lock ordering a security override to open the door to her quarters. Ilexa followed him into the room on his heels. She hovered so close that Talon felt her step on his heels three times, nearly causing him to stumble.

“Talon, what’s wrong?” she breathed.

“Xyreon poisoning,” he replied, climbing the steps to the bed on the dais. To his surprise, Ilexa did not argue the safety of the xyreon ore or question him about the projectiles. She followed him up the steps, but rounded the bed to the other side. The medic stayed at Talon’s side.

He settled Lia against the pillows and tried to pry her hands from around his neck.

“You’re so strong,” she purred, arching against him and rubbing her full breasts against his chest.

Talon gritted his teeth, reminding himself the woman was drugged, and his baby sister was in the room. He tightened his grip on her wrists and forced her hands from his neck.

His sister smiled at the medic and extended her hand. “I’m Ilexa. On N’yota, I am a sixth level healer.”

Talon scowled. He hadn’t wanted the medic to know of his sister’s talent. Of course, with N’yota’s isolated location, it was unlikely the medic was familiar with Ilexa’s particular type of medicine.

“Mauri,” the medic replied, settling on the bed next to his wife. She opened a bag and began to sort through a number of unidentifiable objects. Talon turned away from Mauri and began smoothing Lia’s hair from her face.

In his peripheral vision, he saw the medic wrap several bundles of herbs in a porous cloth and swath the bundle in gauze. To his surprise, the medic handed the bundle to Ilexa.

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“I intend to bind this to the wound in her side. It will draw the poison concentrated there. With the concentration gone, her body’s systems will be able to naturally filter the poison circulating in her bloodstream.”

Ilexa took the poultice, hefting it in her left hand. She held the bundle aloft and placed her right hand over the wound in Lia’s side. Talon watched his sister’s eyes unfocus and her face take on the far-away look of a healing trance. She lowered the poultice and removed her hand from her patient. She looked at Talon, her eyes still soft from her visit to that otherworldly place she went. “I believe Mauri is correct about the treatment. Its energies are opposite of the wound, like fire and ice.”

Talon eyed the holistic remedy warily. He didn’t like Dr. Brinson, but was beginning to regret agreeing to this treatment. “Shouldn’t they be similar?” he asked. “Won’t opposites repel each other?”

Ilexa shook her head. Her eyes lost their clarity as she struggled for an explanation.

“It’s the balance between the two that is important for the healing. When they meet, they will come together in harmony.”

Talon stared blankly at her. Why did he even bother asking Ilexa questions? “You’ll stay and monitor her?”

“Of course,” his sister replied. Talon didn’t like the speculative look that came into her eyes.

Mauri apparently viewed the agreement between brother and sister as a green light. She took the poultice and turned to Talon. “If you can help her sit up, we’ll pack the wound and wrap a bandage around her to hold the poultice in place.”

“Lia, we need you to sit up,” Talon told her, cupping his hands around her shoulders. Her eyelids fluttered open and she gave him a loopy grin. “Ham-some.”

He pulled her unresisting, boneless body to a sitting position, resting her carefully against his side. She turned her face into the crook of his shoulder and nuzzled against him. He felt oddly embarrassed at the easy affection Lia demonstrated. Never mind the healers paid them no attention.

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The path he had been destined to walk required him to appear strong and capable. Softness could easily be misinterpreted as weakness, and he would not appear weak. To that end, he built a public persona as hard as granite. He chose his female companionship based on his ability to maintain an emotional distance from them, and their ability to understand his situation. He only showed gentleness to the women in his family and only in private.

He had shown his gentle side to Lia, he realized. His wife. The future mother of his children. Children who would lead N’yota in a new era of peace. The weight of responsibility he’d carried since she’d been born settled more heavily onto his shoulders as he studied her pale face.

For the first time, he wondered what Lia wanted in a husband. Had there been someone she loved in the mines? Had she dreamed of building a family out of love rather than duty? A flicker of sympathy ran through him, before he ruthlessly squashed it. Talon scowled, tightening his grip on her shoulders. It didn’t matter what she might have wanted. The reality of the situation mattered. He was her husband and part of the hand fate dealt her.

Considering his role as husband to Lia, rather than husband to the Damaia made him uncomfortable. The Damaia could be viewed as an object, some necessity to his role as first minister. Lia was a warm-blooded woman with feelings, hopes, dreams and fears. Being mated to the Damaia required him to fulfill a role, do his duty. Serving as husband to Lia left him floundering with no clear objective. How did one be a “good” husband?

Especially in the circumstances he and his wife lived. He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, a telling habit he had conquered years before. Using both hands to hold Lia up for the medic and Ilexa prevented him from giving in to the urge. A glance towards Lia’s waist revealed the bandage being secured. Ilexa, who had held Lia’s top up, smoothed it back down to cover the bandage. “You can lay her back down now.”

Talon lowered her back to the bed, and watched her eyelids droop before drifting closed. She fell asleep in seconds. “Is this reaction normal?” he asked. 82

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“Yes. It’s a reaction to the pain medication, not the poultice. She’ll drift in and out of sleep. It’s best if she sleeps and doesn’t jar the wound,” Mauri assured him.

“How long will this take?” Talon asked, his tone razor sharp. Ilexa cut him a cold look at his treatment of the medic. “Talon, true healing takes time,” she reminded him.

Mauri smiled at the interplay, and Talon guessed she had an older brother of her own. “We’ll check the wound in six hours, clean it and apply a new poultice. The wound should be clean within a day. Two at most.”

Mauri leaned over Lia and placed two monitoring pads on her head. One at each temple.

“These are wired to sickbay?” Ilexa asked.

“Yes,” the medic replied and passed a small handheld unit to Ilexa. “They also transmit to this, which you can carry anywhere on the Aegir.”

Ilexa frowned. “I don’t like the idea of leaving my patient alone.”

Mauri began packing items back into her bag. “I agree. If nothing else, she needs to be watched to make sure she doesn’t move around and dislodge the treatment. Someone needs to ensure she eats. She will also need help going to and from the lav.”

“I’ll stay,” Talon announced.

“Of course,” Ilexa replied. “But you will need sleep as well. Why don’t we rotate six-hour shifts? You can take the first six hours.”

*

Lia swore she heard her eyelids creak when she cracked them open. She found herself staring into the silver eyes of Talon. He sat propped against the headboard, looking down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She studied him through slitted eyes, trying to figure out why he lay next to her in bed. It took a moment for her brain’s gears to engage and the botched escape to replay in her memory.

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She closed her eyes with a groan. Talon reclined beside her, no doubt awaiting an explanation. The idea of closing her eyes again and feigning sleep tempted her, but that smacked of cowardice. Pride forced her eyes open and made her return Talon’s stare.

“How do you feel?” he asked, surprising her with his obvious concern. She shifted under his penetrating gaze and took a quick mental inventory. The wounds from the attack itched, but didn’t hurt, and the pain in her side was gone. She no longer felt as though she cooked inside her skin, which meant the fever had abated. Relieved, she replied, “Much better. Maybe a little stiff.”

“That’s to be expected,” he assured her. “Are you thirsty?”

She nodded, wary of his solicitous manner. Why wasn’t he yelling at her?

“Let me help you sit up.”

Talon hauled her up until she reclined against his chest, and she felt an unwelcome warmth at the gentleness he used. He reached over to the nightstand, retrieved a glass of orange liquid and held it out to her.

Lia considered the bright substance with a wary eye, but thirst won out over concern. She took a cautious sip of the drink, pleased when the fruity, yet tangy concoction proved pleasant.

“This is good,” she announced with surprise.

Talon raised his eyebrows. “Did you expect me to give you some vile brew?”

She twisted her head to meet his gaze. “You have to admit it looks…odd.”

“It’s figila juice from Inderia,” Talon told her. “It’s quite popular.”

Lia turned back around, resting against his broad chest and sipping on the beverage.

“I can see why.”

Several moments passed in an awkward silence. Lia wanted to ask about her injuries, but loathed bringing them up. That would lead to a discussion about her escape attempt, a topic she dreaded and wanted to avoid.

She passed a hand along her side and felt nothing. Not even a bandage. Finally, she asked, “Was my side infected?”

“No. It was xyreon poisoning. You don’t remember?”

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Lia shook her head, uncomfortable with the blank spaces in her memory. “The last thing I remember is the hanger bay. There were two men shooting at me with strange weapons… They hit me with something.”

“Those injuries are healing well.”

“I thought the station’s sensors disabled all weapons but stunners and military coded blasters,” she said.

“All weapons that are energy based. Someone manufactured an antique weapon that shot metal projectiles into your body. Not as clean a kill as blasters, but they can be deadly nonetheless. You were quite fortunate none of the projectiles struck a major organ,” he explained, and she heard the censure in his voice.

“They itch,” she said for lack of anything better to say. The conversation was getting ready to deteriorate, and they both knew it.

“What were you doing in the commercial docking bay?” Talon asked the question that had loomed over the conversation.

Her mind raced, but no plausible scenario came to mind. She decided to be honest. Her one chance of escape was gone. They were headed straight to N’yota. She’d blown it.

“I was looking for a ride out of League territory.”

She felt Talon grasp her shoulders. He lifted her off his chest and slid from the bed. He moved to the foot of the bed and resettled. His expression was cold, harsh, and for some reason, it not only made her feel guilty, but caused her heart to sink with dismay.

“Do you want to explain that?” It wasn’t a question, but an order. Lia took a moment to adjust the pillows behind her before responding. “It seems obvious to me. I don’t wish to return to N’yota. I’ve said that before.”

“The entire future of our world is dependent upon your return and assumption of your rightful place. This is your destiny.”

“Says who?” she asked, fury lacing her words. “The scientists who oversaw my conception and modified my genes? The League officials who discovered a new energy source on N’yota and concocted the scheme that resulted in me? Well, guess what. They created a living, breathing person. Not some android they can program to fulfill a function.”

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Talon rose and paced the dais around the bed, prowling like an angry animal. “I will not debate the Prophecy with you again. You are the Damaia, destined to lead our world, and it is time you accepted that fact. It’s time to grow up and stop sulking like a spoiled child because you aren’t getting your way.”

Outraged, Lia pushed herself up to a sitting position. “Spoiled child?” she spat.

“The lives of millions of people depend upon your return. I’m sorry you didn’t get to choose your life, but are you truly selfish enough to condemn our entire world to war rather than assume your responsibilities?”

Guilt rose up to choke her. When he put it like that, she sounded petty and small. Thrusting her guilt aside, she snapped out, “I’d rather be selfish and alive than selfless and dead.”

“Had you stayed with your guards, you would not have been exposed to that attack.”

“Are you trying to tell me those men weren’t out to assassinate me? That I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

Talon shoved a hand through his dark hair. She hadn’t thought it possible, but the man sounded even angrier. “No. The men were hired killers. We found a copy of your image on them.”

The argument had sapped her strength and a macabre acceptance had her leaning back against the pillows. She’d missed her chance to escape, and yet she didn’t entirely regret it. “You’ve just delayed the inevitable. If I return to N’yota, eventually someone will kill me.”

Talon suddenly filled her line of vision, looming over her like an avenging god. “No one is going to kill you,” he vowed. “I swear it on my life.”

Lia snorted and closed her eyes.

She felt Talon pull away from her and opened her eyes to see him standing at the foot of the bed watching her with a consideration she found unnerving.

“Do you remember anything pleasant about your life on N’yota?”

“I remember you,” she blurted out before she thought. Genuine surprise registered on his face. “Me? I’m what you remember?”

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Well, she had gone this far—albeit unintentionally—she might as well go for broke.

“I’d look forward to seeing you all year. You were always very kind to me. The presentation days were the best ones I had on N’yota.”

“You need to rest,” he told her abruptly, before heading towards the sitting area. “I’ll send Ilexa in to sit with you.”

Lia watched him leave and felt an unwelcome sense of loss without his presence. The man was getting to her. His kindness, his devotion, his dedication and that all-toobrief kiss they had shared. Now that he was gone, she admitted she had hoped he would kiss her again. Of course, behaving like a harpy was probably not the best way to get that result.

And why had her simple admission sent him running for the door? His reaction made her feel naked and exposed, which she immediately suppressed under a layer of umbrage. She nursed her resentment for the five minutes it took Ilexa to arrive. Ilexa breezed into the bedroom, a vision in a red tunic over black trousers. To Lia’s delight, she carried Asha in her slender arms. Behind her, Thane carried parcels Lia recognized from the pet store. She had purchased a number of things to be sent to the ship in the event her escape attempt failed.

Her sister-in-law dropped the gimfrey on the foot of the bed.

“Place them there,” Ilexa directed, her normally warm voice crackled with ice as she pointed for Thane to set the items by the wall.

The usually implacable Thane shot Ilexa a hot look, but made no reply as he complied with her direction.

While Lia watched the byplay with fascination, Asha crawled from the foot of the bed to curl beside her. She emitted a loud purr when Lia absently stroked her behind the ears.

With a toss of her head, Ilexa flicked a long lock of hair off her shoulder. “That will be all,” she announced haughtily and ignored the searing look she received in response. Thane turned his attention to Lia, and the emotion faded from his face. As stoic as ever, he saluted her and left without uttering a word.

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Ilexa watched his retreating back through narrowed eyes, and Lia wondered what had happened between the pair. Whatever it was, it had been explosive.

“Next time you try to escape, let me know. I can carry a stunner and take that arrogant jackdaw down for you,” Ilexa said, prompting a smile from Lia.

“Problems?” Lia asked.

“That man thinks he’s my keeper,” Ilexa replied with a sniff. Her sister-in-law displayed such outrage that Lia refrained from suggesting Thane stay Ilexa’s keeper rather than her own. “I take it you object?”

Ilexa stretched her long frame across the foot of the bed, occupying the space Asha had vacated. “He and Talon have been best friends for as long as I can remember. He seems to think that gives him some authority over me. I have enough older brothers. I don’t need another.”

Lia had seen the heated look in Thane’s eyes and doubted his feelings were fraternal. She wanted to ask what had happened, but valued her own privacy too much to pry into the affairs of others. “I apologize if my…departure from the promenade caused you problems.”

Ilexa waived a dismissive hand at Lia, much like she did to her brother. “I’m just glad you are well and there is no lasting damage. Anything else is between you and Talon.”

At the mention of Talon, the smile faded from Lia’s face.

“Was he a terrible brute?” Ilexa asked sympathetically.

“We had words.”

“He worried greatly about you,” Ilexa confessed. “Talon doesn’t handle extreme emotions very well. He always has to be in control, and when he’s not, he gets angry. Uncomfortable with the focus of the conversation, Lia changed the subject. “Thank you for keeping an eye on Asha.”

“Actually, she’s been a delight. Once we got her aboard ship, she behaved like a well-mannered pet.”

“She knows she’s safe.” Lia didn’t know how she reached that conclusion, but knew it was true.

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Asha raised her head and gave the side of Lia’s face a lick with her wide tongue. In response, Lia scratched beneath her chin.

Ilexa sat up and ran her elegant hand along Asha’s spine in a slow stroke. The purring increased until the bed vibrated beneath the smiling women.

*

Talon leaned against the portal in his cabin and stared at the stars whizzing past. The chime of the door drew him from his reverie.

“Enter,” he called, not moving from his position.

“Talon,” Thane said in greeting before settling in a chair near the portal. A comfortable silence fell over the room as Talon marshaled his thoughts. He and Thane had shared a dorm room at the Academy all those years ago and fought shoulder to shoulder in more combat situations than either could count. Of all the people in his life, Thane knew him best.

Lia was the only bone of contention between them. Thane had been disgusted by the idea of an arranged marriage and had long encouraged him to accept the Damaia was gone, regardless of whether she was dead. Despite their disagreement about Lia, Thane had faithfully followed him on his search for her.

“I talked with Lia,” Talon finally said, not turning from the portal.

“I trust you impressed upon her the dangers of evading her guard?”

Talon nodded. “I did.”

“But?” his friend prompted.

“She doesn’t want to return to N’yota. She doesn’t believe she’s the answer to the Prophecy.” He hesitated. “Or doesn’t care.”

“You can deal with that. What’s the real problem?”

Damn. Thane knew him too well. “She remembers me.”

“Of course she remembers you. She was twelve when she disappeared.”

Talon shook his head and turned to face his friend. “We made a public appearance every year on her birthday. She told me how much she enjoyed those times.”

“And?”

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“I dreaded those appearances. They were such an annoyance I was barely civil to Lia when I saw her.”

“At the risk of repeating myself, ‘and’?”

Talon shoved a guilty hand through his hair. “She mentioned how much she looked forward to them, and how I was the kindest person in her life.”

“Ah,” Thane said.

“What kind of life could she have had when she lived for an hour and a half every year? And just to spend time with someone who scarcely acknowledged her existence?”

“You feel guilty.”

“Of course I feel guilty. She’s my wife. Her childhood was hell and I couldn’t even be bothered to notice.”

“She’s no longer a child,” Thane pointed out.

Talon huffed out a breath and punched the portal with his fist. “I didn’t know what to do with Lia as a child, and now I don’t know what to do with her as a woman.”

Thane flashed a leering grin. “You don’t know what to do with a woman?”

Talon’s nostrils flared in irritation. He and Thane had chased—and caught—women since their Academy days. Often competing with each other and wagering on conquests. Usually he would laugh at a jab referencing their exploits, but Thane’s amusement where Lia was involved raised his hackles.

“You are speaking of my wife,” he warned his friend through gritted teeth, hardly aware he had shifted to a battle stance.

Thane lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I meant no offense.”

Talon’s body relaxed. By the gods, this woman had tied him in such tight knots he was ready to attack his closest friend. He nodded his acceptance of Thane’s apology. Thane lowered his hands, rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “You have spent your life considering your obligation to the Damaia. Never in our acquaintance have I heard you refer to her as you would a woman.”

“She’s not just any woman,” Talon warned.

“No, she’s your woman,” Thane agreed. “But she’s still a woman.”

The conversation was making him dizzy. “What are you saying?”

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“I’m saying you should woo her. Charm her. Just because she’s your wife doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve at least a little of the effort you’ve put into casual relationships. Women enjoy feeling pursued and wanted.”

Talon turned Thane’s words over in his mind. His friend was right. Lia was beautiful, smart and strong. She fascinated him, but the physical attraction he felt had been tinged with guilt, as though reacting to the Damaia as a man was sacrilegious. Lia was his wife. He had put less effort into a relationship with her than he had with one-night stands. A slow smile began to cross Talon’s face, and his guilt evaporated as he gave himself mental permission to seduce his wife.

“I think you might have a point,” he told Thane. “It’s time I get to know Lia, the woman.”

Thane rose, inclined his head and left Talon to his planning.

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Chapter Nine

Lia smoothed her hands down the sides of her form-fitting dress and studied her reflection in the mirror. With her side healed, she wore the curve-hugging sheath without discomfort. It was nice to have an outfit she had selected for herself. She cocked her head to the side and smiled. She looked good.

A chime at the door signaled Talon’s arrival, and she hesitated a moment before granting him admission. When his formal invitation to dine had come that afternoon, she had been surprised and suspicious. His cold departure several days before grated her pride, and she had determined she would remain aloof for the duration of the meal. She met Talon in the living area and stared nonplused at the small flower he offered her.

“I stole it from the arboretum,” he confessed with a sheepish grin. “Don’t tell the botanist, or she’ll skin me alive.”

She reached out with nervous fingers and took the flower by the thin green stem. It had been over a decade since she’d seen a real flower, and she’d never been given one before. She lifted the delicate blossom and studied the white petals before inhaling its sweet scent. “It’s lovely,” she told him, eyeing the fragile blossom. What did she do with it now?

“I’m glad you like it.” Talon moved to the cabinet above the cooling unit and removed a glass. He filled it with water and brought it to her. “It will last longer if you put it in water.”

Grateful for his advice, she placed the stem into the water and put the glass on a low table beside the chaise.

“I’ve arranged a dinner for us with a spectacular view.”

Talon offered her his arm and she gingerly took it. He led her through the ship, past the bridge, and into a small room. Three of the walls were floor-to-ceiling portals. A small, round table, covered in a white cloth, sat in the middle of the room. 92

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Lia sat in a chair Talon pulled out for her. He circled the table to sit across from her. The intimacy of the setting caused her skin to flush, and nerves had her wanting to shift in her seat.

Talon pressed a button and a silent, uniformed soldier delivered the first course and withdrew without saying a word.

Uncomfortable, Lia fiddled with the cutlery beside her plate.

“You know, it was hard for me to return to N’yota after all those years as a League soldier. I hated giving up space for planet-side life,” Talon told her conversationally.

“It was?” Genuine surprise brought her head up, and she met Talon’s gaze. Talon raised his eyebrows and forked up a bite of salad. “You think I didn’t have a life of my own?”

She flushed, feeling a pang of guilt. “You display such devotion…”

“I am. That’s why I surrendered my commission and ran for public office.”

“What did you dislike about returning to N’yota?”

“It’s not N’yota, per se. It’s any planet,” Talon replied, pouring them each glasses of rich red wine. “Planets smell.”

“They smell?” she asked confused.

“I got used to living on ships. There’s no smell on a ship. No dirt, no plants, an autofiltration system…”

“And planets smell,” Lia said, grasping his point. “Tmesis must have been overkill for you.”

“It made me appreciate trash heaps,” he admitted.

Lia laughed. Although she had long been immune to the rather unique smell of Tmesis, she still remembered the horror of her first weeks on the moon. “A flower garden, it is not.”

Talon lifted his glass, and they toasted the stench of Tmesis.

“Did you miss anything else about space travel?” Lia asked, wincing at the banality of the question. She was out of practice with small talk, or rather, had never learned the art.

“The hum.”

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“The hum?”

“Ships hum. They vibrate with the engine. Although you can’t really hear or feel it when aboard ship, once you’re planet-side, you notice the absence of the hum.”

“I didn’t notice the absence of a hum while we were on the station,” Lia commented.

“Stations have a hum.”

“They have a hum?” This was conversation?

“They have engines that help keep them in orbit and maintain their stability. Those engines hum.”

“Oh,” she said.

The uniformed man reappeared with a trolley. He removed the salad plates, placed dinner plates before them, and set a covered silver server in the center of the table. Uncomfortable with anyone waiting on her, Lia gave the server a weak smile.

“Thank you.”

The server nodded and withdrew again, while Talon poured her another glass of wine. She lifted her glass to her lips and watched the stars streaking by appear to decelerate.

“Are we slowing down?” she asked.

“We are.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I asked the captain to stop during our dinner.”

“Why?”

“Watch,” he replied.

The ship slowed to a complete stop and rotated around until they faced a beautiful explosion of color. Lia gasped in appreciation as vivid shades of red and orange exploded around them. The colors swirled and danced to silent music, filling the dark void of space with a symphony of light. “What is causing this?”

“It’s a plasma storm in the Orious nebula.”

“It’s breathtaking,” she gasped.

“I know.”

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She glanced at him and was surprised to see him staring at her. The implication of his words sunk in, and she felt herself blush. Embarrassed, she took a hefty swallow of her wine and turned her attention back to the soundless fireworks display outside the ship.

The silence stretched between them. Finally, Lia spoke. “It reminds me of the firestorms on Tmesis, but on a much larger scale.”

“Firestorms?”

“Sometimes the atmospheric pollution from the mines would catch fire. It created a spectacular firestorm in the sky.”

“Were they dangerous?”

“I wouldn’t recommend being caught outside during one,” she warned with a smile.

“I’ll remember that.” He returned her smile, and she felt a warm melting sensation in her stomach. “Were there any other benefits to life on Tmesis?”

His interest seemed genuine, and she decided to give him an honest answer. “I liked the freedom.”

“Freedom? That’s not something you usually associate with the Mining Guild.”

She laughed. He had a point. “No, the Guild is not known for its liberated policies. I meant the freedom I had to make my own decisions. To live life how I saw fit.”

“Toiling in the mines like a slave?”

She considered her words carefully. “That was just work. I enjoyed making decisions. Choosing my friends. Being treated like everyone else. There’s a freedom in that I’m not sure I can explain.”

“A freedom the Council never gave you.”

She started at his insight. “I suppose.”

“What else did you like?”

“I liked working with glass.”

“You do beautiful work.”

“Thank you.” His use of the present tense, implying she would be able to continue her art, lightened her heart. That or the wine.

“How long have you been working with glass?”

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She hesitated. The wine was definitely going to her head, and there were things in her past she didn’t want to reveal. “Since I turned fifteen.”

“You have real talent. Even without revealing the artist as the Damaia, your pieces would command a high price.”

“People would pay for bits of glass?” she asked amazed. Sure, she had bartered with her pieces over the years, but she had never considered someone would pay credits for her work.

“No,” he replied. “But they would pay for the art you create with them.”

She felt heat rise in her cheeks and turned her gaze back to the firestorm. The compliment left her feeling very warm, and she felt her heart expand. She groped for a reply. “That’s kind of you to say,” she finally managed.

“It’s not kind. It’s true,” Talon replied, refilling their glasses. Pride filled his voice.

“In recent years, N’yotan artists have been able to devote all of their time to their crafts. Traditions believed lost have resurfaced, apparently handed down through generations. League planets crave the N’yotan pieces. It’s become a major source of trade.”

Giving in to curiosity, she asked bluntly, “If you hadn’t been wed to me, to the Damaia, would you have run for first minister?”

An eyebrow arched upward. “I have no idea what path my life would have followed were we not bound together. I’ve never thought of it.”

“Never?” she asked, amazed. Living a life other than the Damaia’s had been her fondest dream growing up.

“Never,” he confirmed. He took another bite of his meal and chewed it thoughtfully while she pushed food around her plate. “I’m curious. How did you know of my election?

I can’t imagine N’yotan politics are the topic of daily conversation on Tmesis.”

Lia felt strangely embarrassed. She didn’t lift her eyes from her plate when she replied, “A charity group set up a computer terminal for the miners some years ago. Whenever it worked, I would check interplanetary news.”

“N’yotan politics is hardly interplanetary news. You’d have to look up planetary items specifically,” he pointed out.

She raised her face to scowl at him. “Yes, I looked up happenings on N’yota.”

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“Homesick?” he asked teasingly.

She sniffed. “Hardly. Wanted to make sure no one was looking for me.”

A triumphant half-smile played around his lips, and Lia scowled. They both knew she’d been curious about her home world.

The smile suddenly disappeared from his face, and his gaze captured hers. “I am sorry you suffered during your life on N’yota, and I want to apologize for my role in that suffering.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she managed, stunned by the apology.

“I do,” he insisted, reaching across the table to take her hand. Her pulse jumped at the electricity that raced along her skin at his touch. “I never noticed how unhappy you were. Had I made an effort to get to know you, I would have discovered what your life was like. I could have done something about it.”

Damn it. Now her heart was turning over. Did he have to be so sincere? She didn’t like the unfamiliar longing she felt in her chest. It had nothing to do with the past and everything to do with the man holding her hand. “We were both children.”

“I was young when you disappeared, but still a man. I should have taken better care of my wife.”

Storms raged behind his eyes and his remorse tugged on her heartstrings. She tried to remember all the reasons she shouldn’t like the man, but couldn’t. “I don’t think it’s necessary,” she whispered. “But I accept your apology.”

He smiled and her heart flipped over again. At this rate, it was actually turning somersaults. He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and she didn’t think to pull away.

“Thank you. As your husband, I promise your future will be much happier than your past.”

Pain filled her chest, stilling the somersaulting organ. “Please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I never make a promise I can’t keep,” he assured her. Nervous, she licked her lips. His eyes darkened and he rose. Without releasing her hand, he circled the table and tugged her from her chair.

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Startled, she fell into his chest and felt his arms come around her, keeping her pinned to him. He threaded one hand through her hair and tugged it backwards, tilting her face up to his.

His eyes burned like molten ore, and the lock of hair that fell over his forehead did nothing to soften his features. Her breath caught a moment before he lowered his head. The kiss started as a gentle press of lips, and she realized he was giving her the opportunity to pull back, to reject him. The thrill she felt at the touch of his lips made her throw caution to the wind. She parted her lips, invitingly, and suddenly there was nothing gentle or soft about the touch of his mouth to hers. His tongue swept inside her mouth, startling her with the dominant need he displayed. He teased and tasted, exploring the recesses of her mouth and coaxing her.

Before she realized it, she was responding to his kiss. Time stood still as her tongue dueled with his, and she sought to get closer to him, pressing her body flush against his. The heat emanating from his body soaked into her bones. Her nipples hardened against the solid wall of his chest, even though their skin remained separated by several layers of clothing. She felt the hard ridge of his arousal against her lower stomach and a giddy sense of pleasure that she evoked such a response in him swirled through her. Unable to resist, she rubbed her body against his and was rewarded with his deepthroated groan into her mouth. Talon pulled his head back, tightening his grip on her hair when she tried to follow his mouth with hers. His lips were damp and swollen. She had no doubt hers looked the same. She licked them and gave a seductive smile when he growled in response. Talon released his grip on her and stepped back. “You’re my wife, and you deserve a courtship not a seduction.”

“I like the seduction,” she assured him, reaching out to caress his chest. He stepped back again, this time out of her reach. “I’m going to share your bed, Lia. Make no mistake. But when I do, it will be because you want me there. A decision you have to make when alcohol and passion aren’t clouding your mind.”

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She didn’t like that he was being a bloody gentleman. Drawing herself up, she intended to give him a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, the movement caused her to lose her balance and she tumbled backwards over her chair before Talon could catch her. Stunned, she stared up at the domed ceiling which seemed to be revolving. Talon’s concerned face suddenly eclipsed her view.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have warned you divai wine is quite potent. I’m afraid you are going to have one hell of a hangover.”

Before she could struggle to a sitting position, Talon lifted her into his arms and carried her back to her quarters. He settled her carefully on the bed. Then left her there. Alone.

*

Unaccustomed to alcohol, Lia was surprised to find herself suddenly wide awake in the middle of the ship’s sleep cycle. She kicked the covers off and rose from the bed, smugly pleased Talon’s prediction of a violent hangover proved false. She prowled her quarters for a few minutes, pointedly ignoring the stacks of N’yotan data Talon had delivered to her quarters for review. She finally realized the need for physical activity plaguing her would not be subdued. Lia threw on a pair of loose-fitting trousers and a soft shirt before heading to the recreation deck. Muted lighting lit the halls rather than the usual bright glare, likely to remind the skeleton crew everyone else on board slept. The dim light made the corridors less distinctive, and Lia accidentally passed the door to the gym and had to double back. She entered the room and was surprised to see Vardin standing in an open area. She stopped to watch him. The gargantuan man moved gracefully, his body flowing smoothly from one position to another. The beauty of the unusual dance mesmerized her. Transfixed, she watched until he stopped, placing his hands on his upper thighs and bowing slightly forward.

“That was amazing,” Lia announced when the spell finally broke. “What was it?”

“Ngäkau. It is used to center the mind within the body and is a critical component that balances peace along the path of the warrior.”

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She couldn’t stop her eyebrows from shooting up in surprise. “Peace isn’t a term I’d use describing Inderians.”

Lia squelched a wince at her blunt words. Insulting an Inderian with no witnesses about. Brilliant move. Her IQ seemed to have plummeted drastically since setting foot aboard ship.

Vardin bared his multitude of razor-sharp teeth, and Lia experienced a momentary rush of terror before she realized he was smiling at her. Prophetess. Inderian smiles should be preceded by a loud, flashing, warning sign.

“The path of a warrior requires a disciplined mind. A disciplined mind is rooted in peaceful harmony with the body,” he informed her.

“I see.” She didn’t. “Do you do this every day?”

Vardin gave her a speculative look. “Would you like to learn?”

Lia considered his offer. “Yes, I think I would.”

“Ngäkau requires daily practice and commitment.”

“I can do that,” she assured him. The idea of doing something she chose appealed to her.

He gave her a curt nod. “Keep your spine straight and stand with your feet braced shoulder-width apart. Clear your mind of everything but the position of your body.”

She obeyed his instructions and followed his movements carefully as he led her through the basic stances of Ngäkau.

“That is enough for today,” he announced abruptly, before motioning her to copy the slight bow she’d seen him perform earlier.

A glance at the chronometer mounted on the far wall told her she’d been performing Ngäkau for over an hour. She wiped the sweat from her face, surprised at how much exertion the slow-moving exercise required. “Thanks, Vardin.”

“You did well. We will meet here tomorrow before breakfast.”

“I’ll be here.”

“You should wear white. It indicates your status as a novice.”

Lia nodded, said farewell and returned to her quarters. Standing beneath the spray of the shower Lia felt more relaxed than she had in years. The Inderians were onto 100

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something with Ngäkau, though she still didn’t understand how it contributed to their abilities as rabid, slaughtering machines.

Once clean, Lia fell into bed. Her relaxed muscles let her melt into the mattress. Without a thought or worry about her situation, she tumbled back into a dreamless sleep.

*

Talon worried when Lia failed to join them for breakfast. He hadn’t considered she would be completely unaccustomed to alcohol. After all, miners were reputed to be a hard-drinking lot who downed grain alcohol like water. Of course, the number of credits Lia had accumulated on her meager wages should have tipped him that she hadn’t squandered her money on that swill. She’d also told the doctor that she’d never been drunk, but he forgave himself for forgetting that fact given his stress at seeing his wife lying on a gurney.

Ilexa gave him a questioning look when he sat down and waived her hand in the direction of the door. “Aren’t we going to wait for Lia?”

“I believe Lia will be sleeping in this morning,” he replied. His sister frowned at him with obvious worry. “Is she ill?”

Talon hesitated. He didn’t want to tell his nosy sister he’d gotten his wife drunk. She’d likely accuse him of doing it on purpose for his own nefarious gain—which he supposed he had.

Vardin spoke before Talon manufactured a suitable reply. “I saw her a few hours ago. She is well.”

Appearing satisfied with Vardin’s assurance, Ilexa took her seat. Talon turned his attention to the Inderian, feeling vaguely put out Vardin knew Lia’s condition when he did not. “Where did you see her?” Talon asked in a much sharper tone than he intended.

Vardin gave him a look that could either have been amusement or offense. Even after all these years, reading Vardin’s expressions proved hit or miss.

“She came to the ship’s gym while I practiced Ngäkau.”

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“I hope she didn’t interrupt your ritual,” Talon said, striving to smooth over his earlier shortness with a polite follow-up.

“She did not. In fact, she expressed interest in the ancient way. I have agreed to teach her.”

Talon stared in surprise, knowing Ilexa and Thane wore similar expressions. Never once had Vardin shared the sacred ritual experience with a non-Inderian. Ilexa recovered first. “That’s very generous of you.”

“Though she follows a different course, she walks the way of the warrior.”

“A catered-to princess and religious icon on par with an Inderian warrior. How could anyone not see the connection?” Thane asked dryly.

Ilexa leapt to her sister-in-law’s defense. “Lia has faced far more hardship in her life than you give her credit for.”

“Perhaps,” Thane allowed, dismissively. “But she’s out of the mines now.”

Ilexa’s delicate nostrils flared in indignation. “I think the mines might have been the easiest part of Lia’s life.”

“Some of the greatest battles ever waged occur off the battlefield,” Vardin stated, unperturbed by Thane and Ilexa’s sniping.

A corner of Talon’s mouth kicked up in a half-smile. It seemed Vardin had fallen under Lia’s unusual spell. “And Ngäkau will help Lia with the battles she faces in the future?”

Vardin inclined his head politely.

Had Vardin been human rather than Inderian, Talon would have felt the need to prevent Lia from forming an attachment to him. Not out of a sense of jealousy or possessiveness, he assured himself, but for Lia’s own good. After all, as her husband, it was his duty to help her avoid the unnecessary hurt should she become emotionally attached to someone other than him.

Once Lia accepted her fate, Talon reasoned, she’d have little to complain about. N’yota was fast becoming a paradise, and after the mines, surely Lia would find modern N’yota a haven.

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Chapter Ten

In an effort to avoid the confusing reaction she had to the man she called husband—

the reaction that stripped her of all semblance of self-preservation—Lia buried herself in the stacks of N’yotan data. She even had lunch delivered rather than join the others in their private mess. After several hours of mind-numbing statistics on gross domestic products, inter-League exports, extra-League exports, census data, population growth prediction and economic inflation indices, she decided to call it quits. By the Powers! Send her back to the mercy of the Guild rep before making her endure another minute of such torture.

She tossed the pad she held across the room, startling Asha, who immediately went to investigate. Interlacing her fingers, Lia raised her hands over her head and stretched the length of her body until her back bowed backwards. One thing she was learning to despise aboard ship was the lack of anything productive to do. Accustomed to manual labor and glass working, Lia enjoyed having produced something tangible at the end of the day. She missed the small thrill of satisfaction she got at seeing what she’d accomplished. Asha quickly lost interest in the pad Lia had thrown, and padded over to nudge Lia’s hand with her large head. Reflexively, she began stroking the gimfrey behind the ears. Asha rewarded her with a rumbling purr.

“If you are going to grow into those gargantuan paws of yours, we might have a problem,” Lia said fondly.

Asha yawned heartily in response. Not for the first time, Lia found her thoughts returning to Talon. She wondered what he was doing and if he had missed her at the meal she’d avoided. She shook her head, trying to knock the maudlin thoughts loose.

“He probably hasn’t given me a second thought,” she told her pet with a laugh. “That sounded whiny even to me.”

The cat leaned her heavy body fully against Lia’s leg.

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“I’ll take that to mean you agree with me.” Lia looked around her quarters. “I’ve got to get out of here and do something before I go stir crazy. The gimfrey’s tail flickered and Lia decided to take the action as Asha’s participation in the conversation. Otherwise, she was just talking to herself like Crazy Milla in the mines.

“Why don’t you come with me? They have a jogging circuit on the rec deck. The exercise would probably do you good, too.”

Pleased to have a course of action, Lia decided against leashing the gimfrey, but tucked a long lead in her pocket just in case, and headed into the hallway. As though she’d understood the conversation, Asha padded happily alongside Lia. The lift stopped on the way to the rec deck and a couple of young officers stepped in holding hands. Engrossed with each other, neither of them noticed Lia or the gimfrey—

until the young man stepped on Asha’s tail.

A powerful roar that sounded too big to have come from the juvenile cat bounced off the walls and echoed in the confined space. In a stellar display of military prowess, the couple leapt backwards shrieking like prepubescent girls. Lia snorted in derision. League citizens should rest comfortably with their defense in the hands such able combatants.

Offended—Lia doubted the cat was actually hurt—Asha tightened her skin, causing her fur to bristle. She pulled back her lips, bared her teeth and hissed her outrage at the perpetrators.

Lia dropped a hand to Asha’s neck, ready to restrain her if need be. The young man with sandy hair and saucer-sized blue eyes edged behind his much smaller female companion. “What is that thing?” he squeaked. Thing? Hiding behind a girl was bad enough, but calling Asha a thing…

Lia hid her fury behind a sweet smile and pair of doe eyes. “I’m sorry she startled you. She’s been grumpy since coming on board. The Inderian warned me she wouldn’t take kindly to being trapped with humans and not being allowed to eat them.”

“Eat them?” he half-squeaked, half-whispered.

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“Vardin, the Inderian I’m traveling with, recognized the predator in my new pet. He expressed concern she wouldn’t be content with synthesized meat.”

The male soldier retreated until his back pressed against the lift wall, keeping his girlfriend positioned in front of him. “Not content?”

“You know how ruthless predators can be. They love the fear of the prey as much as the meat they provide.”

The lift door opened to reveal the rec deck, but the couple didn’t notice. Their attention remained fixed on Asha. Lia took a small step forward and the gimfrey rose, stepping towards the door.

The couple misinterpreted Asha’s action as one of aggression and let out a mutual shriek that Asha drowned out in a loud roar, before flashing a mouthful of sharp teeth. The male attempted to hunch down behind the female, who struggled to free herself from his grip.

Lia and Asha exited the lift as the odor of urine permeated the confined space. Barely able to contain her laughter until the door closed behind them, Lia dropped a hand to caress the silky fur of her pet.

“Want to bet Talon has a fit when he hears about this?”

Asha remained silent as she padded alongside Lia.

“I don’t blame you. It’s a sucker’s bet,” she continued, heading towards the elevated jogging track. “But, I bet he’d greatly be amused. He just wouldn’t show it.”

The track on the rec deck actually ran alongside the ship’s inner hull, which meant it followed an oblong path, twisting and turning around jutting sections of bulkhead. While the scenery didn’t improve, Lia preferred the slight variations in view—generally from a wall with grey paint to a wall with greyer paint, to the stationary machines that had the user face one monochromatic grey wall for the duration of the exercise cycle. Not that she actually had a choice with the four-legged people-eater walking beside her.

Grinning, Lia began the circuit at a brisk walk. “I suppose I should feel bad about what I told them,” she said without a trace of guilt. Lia decided the cat was trying not to laugh.

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About halfway through the first lap, Lia started to jog and soon found herself in a dead run chasing after her blasted pet and cursing her decision not to use a leash. Pushing herself harder, she caught sight of Asha’s long tail disappearing around a curve ahead. Lia made the curve just in time to see Thane and Talon round a blind curve coming from the opposite direction. Asha plowed into Thane’s legs, sending the man flying forward. He landed on his face, and slid along the track, before managing to twist onto his side while still sliding. Lia heard Ilexa’s melodic peal of laughter, but only had eyes for the debacle in front of her.

Unfortunately, the events so stunned Lia she forgot to stop running—at least until her shoe connected with the uninjured side of Thane’s face and sent her sprawling at the feet of her husband.

After everyone came to a full and complete stop, three long seconds of stunned immobility and silence passed, punctuated only by a strange, rhythmic, gasping sound Lia assumed meant Ilexa had laughed until she couldn’t breathe. Lia struggled to right herself. Or at least determine where each of her limbs had landed. She found her left leg when her weight shifted, driving her knee into what she fervently hoped was Thane’s lower abdomen. Afraid of permanently crippling the soldier, or ensuring he never fathered children, she froze, only to find herself dragged to her feet by Talon.

He did not look amused. Thane looked green, and Asha looked as innocent as a babe sitting regally beside Talon. Ilexa joined them on the track, gasping for air with her lovely face flushed bright pink. Her solid unitard and the resin on her hands indicated she’d been using the gymnastic equipment.

Lia turned her attention back to her husband, who didn’t look any happier.

“Where is this animal’s leash?” Talon’s cold voice lashed out in sharp contrast to the choking laughter of his sister and the painful groans of his friend. She forced what she hoped was an innocent smile to her face. “In my pocket.”

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Thane rose to his feet and swayed slightly. One side of his face sported bright red abrasions from his slide. The other shone with a purpling impression of the top of her shoe. Lia winced in guilt and sympathy.

She moved to offer Thane assistance, but Talon tightened his grip, keeping her in front of him.

“Ilexa, if you could stop hyperventilating long enough, please go with Thane to sickbay,” Talon ordered, his tone conveying his displeasure.

“I’m fine,” Thane assured them with a dismissive flick of the wrist. His assurance lacked credibility, because the slight movement sent him crashing into the wall.

“Come on,” Ilexa told him, and grabbed his arm, while still trying to control her laughter. “I have better things to do than babysit you.”

Thane growled in response and Ilexa started tugging at him. “Come on,” she repeated. “The sooner we get to sickbay, the sooner you’re quit of me.”

Lia watched the two slowly move towards the nearest door, wondering if Ilexa had meant that as a threat or a reassurance. Her own lips twitching, she met her husband’s hard gaze. For some reason, his displeasure made the situation funnier, and she started to giggle.

“We need to talk,” he announced, dragging her into one of the small private session rooms. He snapped his fingers, and Asha obediently followed them, earning a glare from Lia.

Talon released her arm and slapped a panel on the wall. The door to the private room swished shut behind them.

She couldn’t help but appreciate the view afforded to her when he turned. The man had a great legs and an ass she could bounce a credit off. A wicked thrill ran through her at the thought that this man belonged to her. Maybe there was some benefit to being the Damaia.

Talon crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her. “Would you care to explain?”

His displeasure killed her good humor. “Explain what?”

“Your reckless behavior.”

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She frowned, feeling guilty and not liking the feeling. “I shouldn’t have left my quarters with Asha off her leash.” She pulled the leash from her pocket and bent to attach it to Asha’s harness. “I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Talon studied her silently for several long moments, his grey eyes taking on a flinty hardness she’d never seen and her throat tightened—not because of the hardness in his eyes but the way the hardness chased away the warmth she’d become accustomed to seeing when he looked at her.

“Is that all you see as reckless about your behavior?”

She dug a hand into Asha’s soft fur for comfort. “I thought I was free to roam the ship.”

He studied her again and she felt a chill when resolve cooled his eyes from flinty grey to silver ice. He gestured towards a stack of mats lined against one wall. Her feet dragged, but she moved to sit on them. When Talon joined her, she couldn’t help but admire the strong flex of muscle revealed to her by his workout clothing, despite the dread building in her stomach.

“Have you considered the ramifications of your behavior on your title?”

Her stomach plummeted, leaving her vaguely nauseated. She had known the conversation was coming. Had expected it before now, but it still caught her off guard. Desperately, she tried to deflect it with a negligent wave of her hand and a casual, “Very few on board know who I am and they wouldn’t hold positions that warrant that knowledge if they didn’t have discretion.”

“Do you know who you are?” Talon asked with quiet deliberation. She cast her mind out in a panicked search for an answer. She saw the pitfalls of any answer she might give and finally decided to outright lie. “Yes. I do.”

She fought hard not to squirm under the weight of his stare as he chose his words carefully. The truth was she had no idea who she was since being hauled aboard the Aegir. She knew Lia the miner, but now she wasn’t even sure she knew who she wanted to be.

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“You are the Damaia. The daughter of the Houses of Lassan and Gemadam. The fulfillment of the Prophecy of Peace. The one destined to end the devastation that has ravaged our world for thousands of years.”

“Talon—” She began, only to fall silent when he held up a hand.

“I realize that at best you do not wish to believe in your destiny and at worst you do not want your destiny. But your wants and beliefs have no bearing on what is. You are the Damaia. You are my wife. You will return to N’yota and assume your place in history.” His voice gentled. The ice in his eyes melted, leaving behind compassion and a deep sadness. “I am sorry you feel overwhelmed, and I will do what I can to help ease your transition, but I can no longer let you deny who you are, even to yourself.”

Lia trembled with fear and rage. Fear of accepting her title and rage she was being given no choice. “A very pretty speech, but pretty words won’t make me become the fulfillment of the Prophecy you hold dear, and it has nothing at all to do with leashing Asha.”

“You are the only hope of a people who’ve been at war for five thousand years, for a culture that was slowly dying as more and more of its children were lost to a futile cycle of violence.” His voice deepened with a shadow of sorrow, and he cupped her shoulder gently with one hand. “The people of N’yota—your people—need your reassurance. They need to see you behaving as their queen, not running wild like an ill-disciplined child. They have given you their hope—all they had left to give.”

She tried to swallow, but terror had thickened in her throat, making it close off. Whatever words she would have said crumbled like sawdust on her tongue.

“It’s time for you to start behaving as befits your station—that includes not running pell-mell after a pet you failed to leash—and undertake the duties of the Damaia.”

Fury choked her. The resolve in his voice frightened her, and his arguments made her feel like a petulant brat. She stared into his compassion-filled eyes and knew he’d never let her go. He’d force her into the role of the Damaia—bodily if he had to. Unable to put words to her feelings of fear, frustration and anger, Lia called upon her mining background. She spat full in his face and shouted, “Fuck you!”

Ignoring Talon’s stunned expression, she leapt to her feet and stalked out the door.

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*

After a week of studiously avoiding Talon, Lia’s nerves began to fray. The unsettling sense of loss she felt at his absence alarmed her.

What’s more, Talon avoided her as well, apparently giving her some space. For some strange reason, that made her burn in outrage. Shouldn’t she be grateful the arrogant jerk steered clear of her? She shoved the need to rationalize her emotions aside. The outrage felt a whole lot better than the sense of loss did.

Besides, who said she had to be rational? Maybe she should just throw a good oldfashioned temper tantrum. The thought gave her pause. Had she ever thrown a temper tantrum? Wracking her memory, she couldn’t recall throwing a single irrational fit in her life. The dour faces of the Council members floated through her memory. The idea of the solemn group faced with a screaming, kicking child brought a reluctant sliver of amusement. She rounded the slight curve of the silent corridor, heading towards the gym. She looked forward to her early morning lessons. Besides, a session of Ngäkau with Vardin would do her a world of good. She entered the open area where she’d first seen him practicing the ancient art.

Lia smiled when she realized she was the only one there. She’d finally beaten Vardin to the gym. She had begun to doubt the Inderian ever slept. No one else used the gym while she and Vardin went through the teachings. She wondered if the ungodly hour, fear of an Inderian, or orders not to disturb the highranking passengers kept the gym empty. Bracing her feet apart, Lia closed her eyes, stretched her arms over her head and bent forward at the waist. Concentrating solely on her breath and her body, she lengthened her spine further with each exhalation while centering her mind. Vardin had taught her the pose as part of a preparatory routine for the rigors of Ngäkau. Clearing her mind had grown harder over the past week. She couldn’t stop thinking about Talon, finally admitting to herself that regret caused the ache in her stomach. She actually missed him. She missed the pride he took in his role as first minister, the strength 110

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of will and determination he displayed. She missed looking at him. She missed his scent. She missed the sound of his voice.

If she were honest with herself, she’d admit she also missed the way she felt around him. The strange, fluttery sensation she got in her stomach when they touched. The flex of the muscle in his forearm when he escorted her somewhere. The way her knees went weak when he gifted her with a smile.

Lia’s temper grew shorter as she considered her annoying husband. Admitting she missed him forced her to accept that her body reacted to him as it had no other. Not that she’d had many chances for comparison. Most eligible young men left the mines for opportunities on the Guild-run gaming station, Kastal City. Besides, she had too much ingrained religious training to not consider herself married. Beneath the sound of the rhythmic pulsing of her heartbeat, she heard a strange, barely audible click. Without releasing the pose or opening her eyes, Lia strained, listening to the silence surrounding her.

The sound didn’t repeat itself, but for some reason, her skin prickled. Placing her hands on the floor, she stepped backwards, fluidly lowering herself into the serpent’s pose. She tried to regain the quiet mind-state she needed to attain before beginning Ngäkau.

The air around her seemed to shift, as though stirred by an invisible hand and stilled again.

Though no discernable change in temperature occurred, the air felt different against her skin. Thicker. Heavier. Dragging it into her lungs seemed to take greater effort. She half-raised her body, shifting to a modified pose and opened her eyes. Nothing had changed that she could see. Slowly rising to her feet, she scanned the room. Although everything looked the same, the room felt different. Realization dawned. “Vardin,” she called out, looking towards the communications panel. “Is this a test? Did you do something I’m supposed to sense?”

No response. In the silence that followed her question, Lia pondered the odd tenor of her voice. When had she started sounding so damn squeaky? The high-pitched quality of her voice irritated her.

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She took a wobbling step towards the panel and nearly fell over. Her peaceful interlude shattered, she began to get annoyed. “Vardin, if this is some sort of Inderian initiation, we’ve got a major culture gap to bridge first.”

Letting out a controlled exhale did nothing to ease her volatile emotions. Her life had been plodding along nicely—if boringly—before Talon and his crew had appeared. Now her life was in turmoil. Assassins chased her, basic decisions were taken from her hands and she couldn’t close her eyes without dreaming of a handsome, silver-eyed devil—who likely hadn’t given her a thought in the past week. Why was she suffering in silence? She should be making him suffer. Inordinately pleased with the idea, Lia stood and staggered to the com console and prepared to blast her husband for all his sins—most especially, ignoring her. It took a moment for Talon’s face to waver into view. He glanced at her from the viewscreen, and Lia realized she’d woken him up. A thin gold chain gleamed against the muscles of his chest, and the pendant hanging from it tickled a memory at the back of her mind. It slipped away as her eyes fell to where the sheet covered his waist. She started to giggle.

“Lia?” Talon’s voice was sleep-roughened.

“Are you naked?” she asked, giggling harder.

Talon came fully awake and his eyes darkened with concern. “Lia, what’s wrong?”

She laughed harder, but the sound squeaked in her ears. “I wanted to yell at you, but I can’t because you’re naked.”

Her husband’s face tilted oddly to the left. Lia blinked at him uncomprehendingly, as she pitched sideways into darkness.

*

Standing before Vardin, Thane and Caden in the captain’s ready-room, Talon felt the vein in his forehead pulse with rage. This was the second attack on Lia in as many weeks. The image of her recovering in sickbay made his stomach churn with a sick fury. Someone aboard ship had tried to kill Lia and had almost succeeded. Whoever sought her death wouldn’t get another chance. He wouldn’t allow it. 112

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“What the hell happened?” he barked, unable to control his fury before his men.

“I received a message this morning from the Damaia canceling our Ngäkau session,”

Vardin replied. “The message showed it originated from her quarters, and I recognized her voice. I had no reason to doubt its veracity.”

Talon paced the confines of the small room in frustration. “The message was audio only?”

“Yes.”

He turned to Caden. “Have you traced the message to its point of origin?”

The young man shifted in his chair and lowered his eyes in the face of Talon’s rage.

“It originated from her quarters. There’s no question. I’ve tripled checked.”

Talon hadn’t believed he could get any angrier. He was wrong. “Whoever forged the message was in her quarters?” he roared.

Unlike Caden, Thane appeared completely unfazed. Ironic considering Thane had seen him in battle where Talon had killed with cold, methodical precision. Thane sat with his elbows resting on the conference table, his long calloused fingers steepled before his face. “Not only was the would-be killer in her quarters, he’s been close enough to record a number of her conversations while remaining unobserved.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Talon asked, too furious to draw his own conclusions or care who knew it.

“The message wasn’t forged—at least the voice wasn’t. Someone spliced it together from the Damaia’s conversations. Did a damn good job of it, too.”

Thane’s voice held enough professional admiration to make Talon’s blood run cold and still his pacing. Thane wasn’t easily impressed. “How good?”

“Some of the best audio work I’ve ever seen. Every individual word was spliced. No phrases used. It allowed him to control the cadence and pace of the speech. It’s smooth, polished. Undetectable to the ear. To get exactly the right tone for each word, he’d have to have recorded a number of her conversations. Mathematically—”

“I don’t need the goddamned statistics,” Talon snarled. Vardin reclined in his chair, the thrill of the hunt reflected in his eyes. “Our enemy is cunning indeed.”

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“Cunning?” Caden asked. “If he has such easy access to the Damaia and can enter her quarters, why not kill her there? Why flood the gym with tachyon particles?”

“Our killer hoped it would appear the Damaia died a mysterious death,” Thane explained.

Talon reminded himself Caden was young and his experience limited. “Cutting the air to the gym and flooding it with tachyon particles fooled her body into thinking it was still breathing in oxygen.”

“Causing her brain to shut down before she realized there was a problem,” Caden concluded.

“And when tachyon is inhaled, it leaves no trace behind,” Thane added. “We would have known nothing other than she suffocated.”

“Bah,” Vardin snarled. “The actions of a coward. My people have the courage to look you in the eye and slit your throat.”

Caden’s face still looked confused. “But if the killer can get into her quarters, why not kill her in her sleep?”

“Because this is an assassination, not a murder,” Talon snapped, resuming his pacing.

“The quarters on our deck share the same air supply system. Flooding the deck with tachyon would have killed all of us,” Thane added.

“So the assassin isn’t willing to kill bystanders,” Caden concluded.

“This is the second failure. The closer we draw to N’yota, the more desperate he will become. Additional carnage may become acceptable,” Vardin pointed out. Talon wanted to find the assassin and wrap his hands around the bastard’s throat and feel the crackle of cartilage as he crushed the man’s windpipe between his fingers. Feel the coward’s body struggle futilely to draw in air. With effort, Talon forced his bloodlust back. Lia’s protection came before his vengeance.

“From this point on, one of us is always with the Damaia. She goes nowhere, not even to her quarters alone. Keep your blasters set on maximum. Shoot first, ask questions later.”

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Caden immediately agreed, babbling nervously about giving his life for the Damaia. Vardin inclined his head slightly, which Talon decided to interpret as an affirmative response.

Thane cocked his head to the side. Years of friendship told Talon the man was scheming. “To be clear, you want us to take turns spending the night with your wife?”

Talon reacted on impulse, grabbed his friend by the front of the uniform and halfhauled him from the chair. Thane stared him in they eye, unperturbed. “Should I take this as a no?”

His brain catching up with his actions, Talon dropped the friend who baited him back into the chair.

Crossing to the window, Talon gripped his right wrist in his left hand behind his back and fought to master his emotions. Lia needed him at his mental best. If he wasn’t able to withstand Thane’s obvious provocation there was no way he would be able to outwit the assassin.

“If you don’t want us taking turns watching your wife sleep—” The barely disguised humor in Thane’s voice had Talon grimacing, “—it would make more sense to move her into your quarters and post sentries at the door during the night for extra security.”

Images of Lia lying on his bed, that mane of fiery hair spilling across his pillows, had Talon battling lust as well as fury. With considerable effort, he shoved most of his raging emotions back and concentrated on the conversation. “I’ll move her into my quarters today,” Talon decided, a thrill of pleasure curling in his stomach. Caden cleared his throat and to Talon’s annoyance, began shifting in his seat. His council of advisors had suggested Talon take the highest rated N’yotan graduate of the League Academy on his mission to find the Damaia. They argued that when Talon returned successful, Caden’s role in the recovery would inspire other young men to join the Academy and help solidify N’yota’s standing in the League. At the time, Talon had already decided on Thane and Vardin. The addition of a third team member had been no skin off his nose.

Now his nose was raw and bleeding.

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“What if the Damaia objects to our presence? She is the sovereign,” the youth questioned.

“The sovereign may not counter military orders or security commands given for her safety,” Thane paraphrased the League manual. “Talon’s orders supersede the Damaia’s when it comes to her security.”

“Oh.” Caden didn’t sound relieved.

A chirping sound pierced the air. Talon pressed a button on the communications panel. “First Minister responding,” he said.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting,” the captain said, his face wavering onto the small screen. “But we have a situation.”

Talon’s heart leapt to his throat, “Lia—”

“Still recovers in sickbay,” the captain reassured him. “We’ve picked up a distress call.”

Somehow he managed not to curse a blue streak. “How far out of our way is the ship?”

“We won’t even have to alter course,” the captain said. “It’s along our heading.”

Talon was tempted to tell the captain to ignore the call, but better sense prevailed. Assistance to a floundering vessel often meant the difference between life and death.

“How long until intercept?” he asked.

“At present speed, half an hour.”

Talon nodded. “I’ll join you on the bridge,” he said and cut the transmission.

*

Lia stepped off the lift and collided with Talon’s back. Still light-headed and woozy, she stumbled backwards and would have fallen if Talon’s reflexes had been a second slower. He caught her by the upper arms and pulled her sharply back to her feet.

“What is she doing out of sickbay?” he growled at his sister. Ilexa, who had stayed by Lia’s side, raised her hands, palms up. “They transmitted information on the distressed ship to sickbay, and Lia all but fought her way up here.”

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Regaining her equilibrium, Lia pulled her arms from Talon’s grasp. She hated it when people talked about her like she wasn’t there. “She can speak for herself,” she announced, stepping around the infuriating man.

She didn’t get far. Talon fell into step beside her and caught her arm, pulling her to a halt.

“I want you to return to sickbay,” he told her quietly, but with steel in his voice.

“No.”

“You look like you are about to pass out.”

“I won’t.”

He didn’t seem reassured by her promise.

She couldn’t fault his skepticism. Staying on her feet took a great deal of effort, and she probably looked like death warmed over. The soft mattress and silken sheets in her quarters tempted her almost beyond reason…but not quite. She owed a debt of honor and for that reason alone, she would fight to stay on the bridge.

Knowing she couldn’t withstand the force of Talon’s will in her current physical condition, she decided to ignore rather than engage him.

“Captain, what is the situation on the damaged ship?” she called out. Talon stepped back to allow her to face the captain. The rigidity of his movements and tension in his jaw told Lia of his displeasure, but to her relief, he was unwilling to undermine her position.

The captain rose from his chair in the center of the bridge and motioned towards it.

“Lady Lia, please have a seat.”

Talon hadn’t released her arm and immediately dragged her to the chair. She gave her husband a dirty look when he shoved her into the plush, leather chair. After taking a moment to settle into the seat, she turned back to the captain.

“The ship,” she prodded.

The captain rattled off a report. “We haven’t been able to establish contact, but longrange scans show severe damage and hull breaches. Life support is functional in less than twenty percent of the vessel.”

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Lia’s stomach plummeted. “Life signs?”

“We are registering living bio-signs aboard ship, but cannot determine species or number of survivors,” Captain Artrane replied.

“How long until we reach the ship?” Talon interjected.

“Ten minutes.”

“And then?” Talon asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

“We’ll send a shuttle pod with a security detail to the ship. Barring unforeseen circumstances, we’ll ferry survivors to the Aegir.”

Lia leaned back in the chair, worry aggravating her queasiness. She was surprised no one had yet realized the identity of the damaged vessel. The captain and crew must not be as notorious as they had been when she wound up on Tmesis. Her mind raced as she sought a way to help those aboard the other ship. With any luck, they’d remain unknown. But luck hadn’t been on her side of late. A sudden idea had her jerking upright in the command chair. Her action didn’t go unnoticed. Both Talon and Captain Artrane turned to face her.

She pretended not to notice, but the two men exchanged a look of put-upon male camaraderie.

“Lady Lia, if you’d like to retire, I can have regular updates sent to your quarters,”

the captain offered.

“Or sickbay,” Talon suggested.

Oh no, they weren’t getting her out of that chair. “I’ll wait,” she announced with a forced smile.

They exchanged another glance, this one clearly of male commiseration. Lia dismissed the two men hovering over her from her mind and concentrated on her plan. She didn’t know if it would work, but she doubted anyone else would know the legal intricacies well enough to challenge her.

She sat in the command chair, her fingers gripping the armrests, and counted as the minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. Her hands cramped in protest by the time the shuttle pod launched. She waited, expecting a member of the crew to suddenly shout,

“Aha!” and identify the ship.

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Only vaguely aware of Talon’s concerned glances, she jumped when his large hand covered hers and began a gentle massage, subtly encouraging her to relax her grip. The unspoken reassurance worked to loosen some of the tension in her slight frame. The silver, egg-shaped shuttle pod zipped across the viewscreen and hovered before the foundering vessel.

“Aegir, this is Run About,” a voice crackled over the initial static of the opening com channel.

Captain Artrane leaned over Lia and flicked a button on his control pad. “Aegir here, go ahead.”

“We are able to get better readings at this proximity and are transmitting the ship identification data.”

A young ensign looked up from his station and nodded at the captain.

“We’re receiving your transmission, Run About,” Artrane stated. The shuttle craft orbited slowly around the damaged ship. “It appears the safest course is to enter the port docking bay. It has the least damage.”

“Understood. Keep us apprised. Aegir out.”

“Captain,” the young com officer's voice cracked, and Lia wondered how old the ensign was. “There’s something odd here.”

“Odd?” the captain asked.

“The ship’s registration…it seems to be transmitting five different registries.”

A more senior officer moved to look over the ensign’s shoulder. “He’s correct, sir. The ship is transmitting five different registries.”

The captain nodded. “Likely forged or stolen. Damage to the ship’s system likely caused them all to be broadcast. Ensign, notify the away team the vessel may be a pirate ship and they should consider anyone aboard hostile.”

Lia’s stomach clenched. She hoped to all the hells that didn’t mean shoot to kill. The first officer addressed the men at the com station. “Run the registries against the criminal database.”

“Already running,” the lieutenant replied. After a pause, he said, “Two of the registries are believed to be aliases for the Dawn Rider.”

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Heads jerked up across the bridge, and the captain scowled. “What’s the status of the away team?”

An officer at a post Lia couldn’t identify replied, “They’ve left the shuttle and are two decks from the bio-signs. They remain in EVA suits.”

“Patch me through,” Artrane snapped.

Lia wondered why he could contact the shuttle, but not the men. Anything to avoid dwelling on the situation at hand.

“I want you to return to sickbay,” Talon told her quietly. “Ilexa will escort you.”

“No.” She couldn’t help her biting tone. She’d worry about hurting his feelings later. The captain turned to her and she knew he’d heard their exchange, which would require better hearing than humans had. Now she could focus on figuring out his species rather than the crew of the Dawn Rider.

“Lady Lia, that ship belongs to a ruthless pirate named Brisby. His reputation is legendary. He and his crew are extremely dangerous. It might be best if you were off the bridge during this…incident.”

In her exhausted state, she felt lightheaded when she stood. The men thought she’d capitulated, but she knew she’d project better on her feet.

“Captain, this is Lieutenant Commander Alvers.” A new voice crackled through the com accompanied by the strange hiss of the EVA suits.

“Commander, we have reason to believe you have boarded a pirate ship.”

“Understood,” came the disembodied reply.

“Commander, this is Lady Lia acting as representative of League authority. Under no circumstances are you to harm anyone aboard that vessel. Am I understood?”

There was a pause and the static crackled loudly in the silence. “Understood ma’am.”

She felt Talon’s anger. His disbelief. Murmurs of surprise and worry for the away team raced across the bridge.

Lia held her breath, waiting. Would Talon countermand her order? If he did, who would the crew obey? Her position was “hereditary”, but N’yota had elected Talon to its highest government station. He was also a League soldier and the military always preferred their own.

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Talon’s gaze met hers and though his face remained impassive, she almost flinched at the fury burning like molten silver in his eyes. A lone muscle jumped in his jaw before he turned back to stare at the viewscreen.

She let out her breath slowly. He hadn’t challenged her authority. At least, not in front of the others, but she didn’t doubt he wouldn’t keep silent when they were alone. The idea of him being angry with her hurt more than it should. Lying in sickbay, she had recalled the pendant hanging from Talon’s neck. She had given it to him—or rather had it sent to him—for his birthday the year she disappeared. It had been the first gift she’d been allowed to choose. Actually, she had been given a choice of “appropriate gifts”, and she had chosen the simple pendant engraved with runes of protection. She had also taken the gift to the High Priestess for a blessing. Seeing him wearing the gift she had chosen for him made her heart flip with an embarrassing girlish glee.

Prophets and gods, she hoped trusting the pirate didn’t backfire. A lot might have changed over the years. What if the crew was correct and she had put the away team in danger? Would Talon forgive her if that happened or would he take off the pendant?

Guilt and worry rose up to choke her, and she desperately fought not to let it show. An eternity crawled by in silence while Lia’s heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears. Finally, Commander Alver’s voice broke through on the com panel. “Captain, we have secured the individuals aboard ship. They are a little malnourished, but other than that, they are fine.”

“Were any of the away team injured?” the captain asked.

“Negative. The pirates have been most accommodating. Permission to return to Aegir?”

“Permission granted. Aegir out,” Artrane replied, before turning to the ship’s chief of security.

“I have a security team standing by to escort our guests to the brig,” Commander Tiberius responded to the unspoken question.

“I would like Captain Brisby brought directly to the bridge,” Lia interjected.

“Lady Lia—” The captain began.

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“That is not a request,” she snapped.

The captain nodded at the security officer and a cold silence fell across the bridge. 122

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Chapter Eleven

Whatever Talon had expected the infamous pirate to look like, this was not it. The man tottered onto the bridge in a pair of high-heeled knee boots and carried himself with the melodramatic air of an actor. The great pirate Brisby was as wide as he was tall, making his balance on the thin heels precarious at best. His hair—what was left of it—encircled a bald spot that took up most of his head. Watery blue eyes bulged from sockets that appeared too small to hold them. Fat cheeks overwhelmed his virtually nonexistent nose and chin. The pirate had a large bottom lip and no discernable upper lip, which made him appear to be pouting.

Hell, for all Talon could tell, the man was pouting. The pirate gave an exaggerated bow, and Talon’s incredulous eyes continued to take in the man’s appearance. If the heels weren’t bad enough, the man wore pantaloons that billowed out from the boots, a snowy white open-necked shirt edged with lace and a waist-length purple velvet cape tied around his neck. A smile twitched at the corners of Talon’s lips, and he struggled to keep his face impassive.

Lia experienced no such difficulty. Her vivid eyes welled with tears, and she nearly knocked the man off his heels when she flung out her arms and grabbed the pirate’s hands.

“Captain B,” she cried with a genuine fondness Talon had never seen her display before. He felt a surprising twinge of jealousy.

“Here now,” the strange-looking man said, pulling his hands back and adjusting his cape. His strange bug-eyes narrowed—a feat in and of itself—at her. “Bright Eyes?”

“Hi Cap’n,” she said with a feeble smile.

“We thought you were dead. Is Maia with you?”

Lia’s smile faded. “We crashed on a Mining Guild moon. Maia died on impact.”

The pirate gave a solemn nod. “What brings you aboard this League ship?”

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Brisby all but spat the word “League”, rankling Talon’s nerves.

“I’m a dignitary in transport,” Lia replied.

The pirate snorted with laughter. “That’s a good one, girl. What’d they pinch you for?”

Lia hesitated. Her gaze met Talon’s and quickly skittered away. Wariness settled in his stomach. She was up to something, and he knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Captain Artrane, as sovereign of a League planet, my staff and I have diplomatic immunity in interstellar space, correct?” she asked quietly, not revealing herself to the rest of the crew.

The ship’s captain looked suspicious and worried. “That’s correct, Lady Lia.”

It was like watching a transport collision. Talon saw it about to happen, but could do nothing to stop it.

“I am formally logging Captain Brisby and his crew as my advisory staff. They undertook their responsibilities sometime ago. I must insist you release the rest of my advisors from the brig.”

Talon heard a grating noise and realized he was grinding his teeth. Captain Artrane turned to him, clearly uncertain how to handle her bizarre declaration. Talon wanted to grab his unpredictable wife and shake her senseless. Not that it would serve a purpose. She’d clearly lost what little sense she’d had. Assuming she’d ever had any.

He debated countering her command, but decided against it. She was exerting her authority, which meant some level of acceptance of her position. Challenging her for taking her rightful role as the Damaia would only cause problems down the road. But he wasn’t about to allow a group of notorious criminals to run free aboard the Aegir. He turned to Captain Artrane, who looked as though Lia had suggested he strip naked and dance about the bridge. “Captain, given the important status of our new guests, perhaps you would consider assigning them a security detail?”

Relief flashed in the captain’s eyes. “Agreed. Commander Tiberius, please arrange security for our new diplomats and assign them quarters on E Deck.”

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Commander Tiberius moved from his post after entering several commands into the ship’s computer. “Captain Brisby, would you accompany me to your quarters?”

Talon felt grim satisfaction at the clear order. For all intents and purposes, Brisby and his crew were prisoners, just not confined to the brig. Lia appeared relieved rather than upset by the orders issued. He didn’t have time to dwell on her reaction. She began to sway on her feet. Her already pale face turned as white as the snow atop Mount Kilima.

He reached out and closed his hand around her upper arm in a grip that was none to gentle. His patience gone, Talon let his voice ring out when he declared coldly, “I’ll escort you to your quarters.”

To his surprise, Lia turned grateful eyes to him. Deciding not to risk a return of her rebellion, he dragged her to the lift opposite the one Brisby boarded. They rode in silence, but Talon noticed the lines of strain around her mouth. He quelled the worry he felt. She owed him an explanation for that stunt on the bridge. When she turned to enter her quarters, Talon pulled her past the door. She stumbled, but he didn’t slow his pace.

She tried digging in her heels and wound up sliding along the carpet. “Where are you taking me?”

“Your new quarters,” he replied without a twinge of sympathy. He stopped abruptly at his door and slapped a palm against the ID device.

“These are your quarters.”

His temper spiked at her obvious outrage at sharing his space and more specifically his bed. “And yours, too.”

“Talon,” she protested as he hauled her over the threshold. The weak alarm in her voice reminded him she’d barely survived an attempt on her life a few hours earlier. Beneath his fury, a pang of sympathy pricked his conscious, but he easily squashed it.

Talon nearly shoved her into a chair in the main living area before towering above her and demanding, “What the hell was that spectacular act of stupidity on the bridge?”

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His anger crackled in the air, and she shrank from him. He wanted to howl in rage. Did she actually think he’d hurt her? His own wife?

He tried for a more moderate tone. “I’m waiting, Lia.”

He could practically see her mind racing. Talon dropped into the chair across from his wife. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth.”

“You’d help me?”

The surprise in her voice grated his already raw nerves. “You’re my wife,” he gritted out.

Her eyes cast downward, and she began chaffing her hands up and down the length of her arms. “I owe them.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The trip I was on to the Central Alliance, when I disappeared…” Her voice trailed off.

Talon leaned forward. He’d waited over a decade for this explanation. “Brisby is responsible for your disappearance—for what happened on the Cordoba?”

“No!” His wife looked horrified.

He remembered the carnage they’d found aboard the ship when they’d finally pulled it from the vortex. More than one hardened soldier had gotten sick at the sight of blood and body parts floating in zero-g. He couldn’t imagine what it had done to a twelve-yearold witness. “What happened aboard the Cordoba?”

She shifted in her seat and gave him a fathomless stare. He decided he’d been too abrupt. Conversationally, he prompted her. “You were scheduled to attend an energy meeting with the Central Alliance. N’yota and League military lost the ship’s signal near a dynoscalar field. Emergency response ships were scrambled. They picked up the ion trail of the ship, and discovered it had somehow entered the dynoscalar field. It took two years to pull the ship out of the field.”

“Dynoscalar fields are impenetrable. How did you manage to get the Cordoba out of it?” she asked.

It wasn’t an answer to his question, but at least she was participating in the conversation. “Necessity is the mother of invention. A young N’yotan scientist figured 126

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out how to modulate tractor beams to compensate for dynoscalar field fluctuations. Using that technology, we towed the ship free of the field.”

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. “Dynoscalar fields are fatal. It seems like a lot of trouble to recover dead bodies.”

“You are too important to N’yota for us to simply assume your death. Moreover, given the Prophecy, your death aboard that ship was impossible.”

Her spine stiffened. “Blind belief in that Prophecy has brought me nothing but trouble,” she muttered angrily.

He chose to ignore her outburst. “While we were delighted you weren’t aboard, we were stunned to find everyone traveling with you had been killed before entering the field. Had it not taken two years to recover the ship, we would have expected a ransom demand.”

“You didn’t consider I’d been assassinated?”

“We did, but if that had occurred the killers would have either left your body aboard ship or used your death for political gain, which would have necessitated publication of your demise.”

“Good point.”

He leaned over and covered her hand with his. “Lia, what happened?” he asked gently.

She tilted her head forward, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face from him. He sat in silence, waiting for her to marshal her thoughts. Finally, she lifted her head. Those fiery starburst eyes appeared more gold than blue, and he saw pain swirling in them. “One of my guards tried to assassinate me, but he hadn’t counted on my doyen. She carried her own weapon and fired at the guard as she put herself in front of me and took the shot meant for me.”

“An assassin got a job as one of your bodyguards?” Fury beat a tattoo in his blood.

“More than one,” Lia said wryly. “The weapons discharge alerted security and suddenly it was an all out firefight.” She swallowed hard and fought tears. “I hid under a table behind my doyen’s body. I couldn’t see anything. After what might have been hours or days, I crawled out to find everyone dead.”

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The pain radiating from the young woman huddled in the chair across from him made Talon desperate to offer comfort. He rose and moved to sit on the low table before her. Taking her cold hands into his own, he silently willed her to continue.

“I don’t know how long the Cordoba drifted, but eventually, Brisby found the ship. He got quite a surprise when the ship he boarded—the derelict that was drifting into a vortex—had a twelve-year-old girl on board.”

“He refused to return you to N’yota?” Talon demanded, outraged.

“Of course not,” Lia snapped. “I convinced him I was the maid’s daughter and had no family left. He and the crew adopted me.”

That was a far cry from what Talon had expected. The idea the strange pirate and his nefarious crew had undertaken the care of a preteen girl almost brought a smile to Talon’s face. Almost. “You never told them who you were?”

“Sometimes I think they are the only ones who ever knew who I was.”

Frustrated, Talon shoved a hand through his hair. He didn’t like these cryptic statements she threw out—especially when he almost understood them. Talon drew on his military training to stay focused on the issue. “You were stranded alone aboard ship. Why didn’t you send a distress call?”

She pulled her hand from his grip. “I wasn’t sure it was safe. Two people who had been extensively screened by security had just tried to assassinate me. Who was I supposed to call? Who was I supposed to trust?”

“Me,” he snapped before he could help himself.

“I was scared.”

His hackles rose. “I’m your husband. You should have known you could trust me.”

“I was twelve,” she pointed out. “And I knew my guards better than I knew you, and they tried to kill me.”

It was a valid point, but he still didn’t like it. Gritting his teeth, he asked, “What happened next?”

“I was rescued by Brisby.”

“How long were you aboard the Dawn Rider?”

“Two years.”

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“What did you do while you were with Brisby?” Talon couldn’t keep the suspicion from creeping into his voice.

Lia rolled her eyes. “I conducted daring raids against heavily fortified armadas.”

“Lia,” he growled.

“I was child being raised aboard ship. They hacked me into the Galactic School’s remote classroom. I attended classes. After class, I would do some work, learning my way around the ship. They never let me be involved in any of their operations.”

Talon ignored the implication she wanted to pirate. “How did you go from Brisby’s care to working the mines?”

“I crashed.”

“I got that. With someone named Maia. How about filling in the details?”

“Whenever one of Brisby’s enterprises needed the Dawn Rider, Maia would take me off ship in a shuttle pod. We’d explore nearby systems, then rendezvous with the Dawn Rider at preplanned coordinates. On one trip, we experienced a systems failure and crashed on Tmesis. Maia died, and I went to work in the mines.”

“A fourteen-year-old crashes on their moon, and the Guild just puts her to work in the mines?” His voice was equal parts disbelief and horror.

“That’s life on Tmesis.”

“They didn’t notify anyone they had found a minor?”

“Who would they notify? They are outside League space. The Guild’s its own government on Tmesis.”

Talon studied his pale wife. Instinct told him she spoke the truth. “Lia, I appreciate you answering my questions—finally. I think you should probably get some rest now. If you’re hungry, I can have something brought here or can prepare a snack from the refrigeration unit.”

Lia raised a shaky hand to push a shank of hair from her face. “You said these are my new quarters. Am I supposed to share them with you?”

She hadn’t met his eyes when she’d asked the question, and the flush in her cheeks indicated embarrassment. He found her shyness adorable. “Yes, you are supposed to share them with me.”

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“Is there a reason I can’t go back to my own quarters?”

“Someone flooded the rec deck with tachyon particles.”

“I know, the doctor told me.”

“Whoever did it sent a message to Vardin from your quarters canceling your session. The person also managed to record a number of your conversations to create the message. From now on, your security is heightened, and you go nowhere alone.”

“Whoever hired the assassins on DeKalb Station is on board the Aegir,” she stated calmly with a nod.

She still hadn’t looked at him, and that bothered Talon. He caught her chin in a gentle grip and lifted her head. “Lia, I’m not trying to embarrass you or force you into an uncomfortable position. We’re married, and we’ll share the bed, but I’ve never forced my attentions on a woman, and I won’t start with my wife. Understand?”

She nodded and looked relieved. He tried not to be offended.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“No, I’m still a little queasy. I’d like to lie down.”

Talon helped her to her feet and escorted her to the bedroom. “Your clothes should be in the top two drawers of the bureau and hanging on the left side of the closet.”

“You’ve moved my clothes?”

He grinned. “Makes more sense than having you dash from the shower down the hall for a change of clothes.”

She gave him an I’m-not-amused look. “I can’t believe you went through my things.”

Talon considered telling her he’d ordered a crewman to move her things, but decided that wouldn’t go over well. “Do you need anything?”

Lia shook her head and climbed the low steps to the bed. “No, I just want to rest for a while.”

“I’ll be in the living area if you need me. There will be two guards stationed outside the door. From now on, you go nowhere without them.”

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She scowled, but to his relief didn’t protest. He watched her stretch out on the bedspread and nestle against his pillow. Satisfaction poured through him. He finally had her in his bed.

His body tightened, and he forced himself to leave, before she noticed his reaction.

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Chapter Twelve

Lia awoke to find Talon lifting her to the other side of the bed. Confused, she forced her eyes open as he drew the covers up over her. She’d fallen asleep atop the bedspread and now Talon was tucking her in.

“Go back to sleep,” he encouraged softly, before moving away from the bed. Sounded good to her. She started to drift back to sleep when the rustling sound of Talon stripping penetrated her sleep-fogged brain. Realizing her husband planned to join her in bed brought Lia completely awake.

She kept her eyes closed, but couldn’t help shifting a little on the bed. That’s when she realized Talon had taken her shoes off while she slept. She couldn’t focus on the domestic action with Talon undressing a few meters from the bed. Was he actually changing clothes or was he stripping to come to bed? Did the man sleep in the raw?

Working up her courage, Lia slitted her eyes for a peek, just as Talon slipped under the covers. Disappointed, she closed her eyes again and contemplated whether the man lying mere centimeters away was completely naked.

The bed dipped and jostled as Talon settled himself for the night. She thought he’d finally found a comfortable position for sleeping, when he reached across the bed and hauled her into his arms.

Lia yelped in surprise as she came up against his bare chest. Talon chuckled. “Go back to sleep,” he repeated, tucking her head beneath his chin and wrapping his arms around her.

Cuddled against him with his chest hair tickling her cheek, Lia splayed her hands against the wall of his chest, reveling in the feel of hot skin and tight muscles. Breathing in his rich, male scent, she closed her eyes and drifted off, feeling treasured for the first time in her life—and wondering if Talon was also naked below the waist. Several hours later, Lia wasn’t feeling treasured as much as pummeled. The infuriating man had somehow expanded, slowly creeping across the mattress, pushing her 132

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along until she clung to the edge of the bed. Shoving her husband gained her no additional space and usually resulted in an increase in his snoring volume. The inhuman sound emitting from her husband’s nose caused the bed to tremble. Talon had evicted Asha from his bedroom, locking the gimfrey in the main living area. She found it ironic a wild animal had better bed manners than her husband. Finally, the timepiece beside the bed indicated she should rise for her Ngäkau session. She rose quietly, but only made it a few steps before Talon sat up in bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Meeting Vardin.”

“I cancelled your session for the day.”

“Why?”

“Lia, someone tried to kill you. Your body needs to recover. You should get more rest. Come back to bed.”

More rest? How about any rest? She had slept just fine in her own quarters. Lia stomped back to the bed, grabbed a pillow and started walloping him with it.

“Hey!” Talon protested, before wrestling the pillow from her grip. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is you hog the bed and snore like a xyreon furnace.”

Talon stiffened. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do.”

He snorted. “You’re the first woman who’s ever voiced a complaint after spending the night with me.”

Lia sucked in an offended breath and Talon froze. Silence hung heavily in the air, thickening between them like a wall.

She spoke first. “Apparently, I have higher standards than the other women in your life.”

An unreasonable sense of betrayal burned in her core, and she stormed out, pausing to grab her shoes at the door. Talon demanded she come back. Ignoring his order, she glanced back to see him leap from the bed in all his naked male splendor. At least she got her question answered.

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She strode into the hallway, and two guards fell in step behind her. She pretended not to notice as she headed to the gym to work off her anger. Lia chose a stationary machine, because running with two guards behind her would make her feel like someone was chasing her. Intent on ignoring them, she faced the gray wall and began to run.

She wasn’t naïve enough to believe there hadn’t been other women in Talon’s bed. The man was thirty-four years old. Hell, he’d been twenty when she disappeared at twelve. The vague feeling of nausea had nothing to do with jealousy. She was outraged he would slap her in the face with his extramarital activities. Purely outraged. Were the women Talon had slept with beautiful? Had he loved any of them? Did he have a mistress right now? Did he love her? Was he planning to build a life with her on the side?

“Stop.” A commanding female voice penetrated her thoughts. Ilexa appeared beside her and switched off the machine.

“Lex?”

“Are you trying to make yourself ill?”

“Huh?”

“Look at yourself,” Ilexa snapped.

“Kind of hard to do without a mirror,” Lia replied. Bending at the waist, she braced her palms against her thighs and gasped for air. Now that she had stopped running, Lia realized sweat drenched her body, her clothes completely soaked. While she wheezed, Ilexa addressed the guards. “How long has she been at this?”

“Two hours,” one of the guards replied.

If her lungs had been able to fully inflate, Lia would have laughed at the men trying not to salivate at her beautiful sister-in-law.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but Talon snarled at everyone in his path before dragging the men into a meeting. Now, I’ve found you running yourself into a collapse. I won’t have it,” Ilexa informed her.

“I’m fine.”

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“No, you’re not.” Ilexa grabbed her by the arm and propelled her towards the lift.

“You are going to cool off, take a shower and eat something.”

“I’m fine,” Lia repeated, but she didn’t sound convincing, even to herself. Hard to pull off confident when having to pause in the middle of a single syllable word to gasp for air.

“You might have been prophesied, but that doesn’t mean you are immortal. You have to take care of yourself.”

Ilexa continued to lecture Lia all the way back to Talon’s quarters. By the time they reached the door, Lia would have vowed to eat a live viper to shut Ilexa up. The woman’s devotion to her profession bordered on obsession.

Lia slapped her palm against the lock, but paused before crossing the threshold.

“Talon’s in a conference. He’s not in there,” Ilexa told her quietly. Embarrassed by Ilexa’s knowing look, Lia entered the main living area. Aware of her soaking clothes, she eschewed the upholstery and sat on the hard surface of the coffee table. The guards followed Ilexa into the room.

Craving what little privacy she could get, Lia said, “I’d like you to remain outside.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Lia. The first minister gave orders that we are to be inside your quarters unless he is with you.”

At least the man had the grace to look embarrassed by the admission. Ilexa shoved a bottle of water at her. “Drink this and shower. I’ll order breakfast while you get cleaned up.”

Lia downed the water in record time. She set the empty bottle beside her on the table before standing. She took a step towards the lav, before pausing to glance over her shoulder at the guards. “You aren’t planning to join me in the lav, are you?”

“No ma’am, not unless we believe you are in trouble.”

Lia nodded, not completely reassured. “I’m pretty certain I can use the lav without needing assistance.”

She opted for a sonic shower, fearing the guards would decide she’d taken too long and burst in to rescue her from a watery deluge. The devil in her suggested sauntering out

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of the lav naked and giving the guards an eyeful for the satisfaction of pissing Talon off, but she couldn’t get past her modesty. Maybe next time. Lia emerged from the lav and tried not to limp, her muscles already stiffening from the punishment she’d inflicted with that full-out two-hour run. She found Ilexa setting plates at the two-seater table tucked into the corner of the living area. The guards stood motionless on each side of the door.

“Didn’t you eat with…everyone?” Lia asked, catching herself before saying “Talon.”

“Talon’s sniping spoiled my appetite,” Ilexa replied, sitting across from Lia and removing the silver cover from the salver.

Lia loaded her plate with eggs, bread and fruit. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“Drink the figila juice. It will replace your electrolytes.”

“Yes, healer,” Lia teased.

Ilexa waited until Lia had taken a drink before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Talon?”

For a moment, Lia considered the offer. Pouring her fears and bruised emotions out to another woman tempted her. She thought better of it, remembering this woman called Talon brother, and two guards stood just inside the door.

“I don’t think so,” Lia finally said.

Ilexa chewed a forkful of eggs and looked thoughtful. Swallowing, she said,

“Obviously the two of you had a fight, and Talon’s clearly to blame.”

“What makes you say that?”

“That Talon’s to blame?” Ilexa waved her hand dismissively. “When he’s mad at someone else, he takes on that superior-than-thou attitude. When he’s mad at himself, Big Brother gets pissy.”

Lia almost choked on her juice. She couldn’t believe the ethereal Ilexa said “pissy”.

“He does?”

“Trust me. I’ve known him my whole life. He knows he’s wrong and feels guilty. He’ll bend over backwards to make it up to you. And if it’s unforgivable,” she sniffed, haughtily. “I’ll help you hide the body.”

Lia let out a startled laugh. “That’s aiding and abetting.”

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“Not unless they catch us,” Ilexa replied with a conspiratorial wink. “Now, tell me about your pirate friends. I can’t wait to meet them.”

*

Talon returned to his quarters after dinner. He and his men had taken apart every fact and piece of evidence related to the attempts on Lia’s life, studying them for hours on end. Still, they were no closer to unmasking the traitor. The entire day had been a waste. He couldn’t remember ever being more exhausted in his life. Worry and fear ate at him while his rage burned coldly at the very idea someone would threaten what was his. And the day wasn’t over yet. He still had to talk to his very angry wife. Talon wearily rubbed his forehead. She had every right to be angry with him. He still didn’t believe what he’d said. Comparing his wife to his previous lovers, in any manner… Most women would merely castrate him for the insult. Prophetess only knew what his fiery wife would do to him.

He found her curled up on the chaise, engrossed in a handheld reader. She wore a pair of loose-fitting charcoal trousers and a clingy, royal blue shirt that hugged her full breasts. A strange satisfaction at finding her in his quarters filled him, coupled with a sense of disappointment when she pointedly ignored him. He dropped into the chair across from the chaise and studied her for a silent moment. Her shallow breathing indicated her awareness of his presence, but she pretended to be engrossed in her reading.

Too tired for subtlety, Talon took the direct approach. “I apologize for my thoughtless words this morning. No bride should be carelessly confronted by her husband’s past liaisons, much less compared to them in any manner.”

Lia lifted cool eyes that shone more blue than gold. “Nothing to apologize for. I’m not green enough to believe you were a monk while I was missing. We both have our pasts.”

With that dismissive statement, she returned to her reading. Talon scowled at the mention of her past. How many lovers had she taken? How dare those bastards touch his wife? Fury pounded like a war drum in his ears.

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“Perhaps we should discuss our respective pasts,” he said ominously. Lia lowered her pad and studied him coolly. “You first. How old were you when you lost your virginity? What was her name? How many lovers have you had? How many one-night stands have you had? Who was the best and why?”

Talon gaped at her, unable to respond to the barrage of questions. He’d never considered himself prudish, but for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to discuss the details of extramarital activities with his wife. She stared at him, looking calculatedly cold with her arched eyebrows raised. His mind turned the questions over, and he wondered how she’d answer them. Jealousy licked along his skin like flames and the primal need to stake his claim wouldn’t abate. “Maybe I should ask you the same,” he growled.

“I asked you first,” she shot back.

The taunt snipped the fragile thread of Talon’s temper, and he closed the space between them in a blink of an eye, shoving the coffee table out of the way. He braced a hand on both arms of the chaise and leaned close.

She shrank back, warily eyeing his predatory expression. Her taunting demeanor effectively erased.

“Be careful. You’re playing with fire,” he warned.

She swallowed visibly. “Clichés don’t frighten me.”

Talon’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Her pink tongue darted out, an unconscious, nervous response that further inflamed his desire. “I don’t want you to be frightened,” he murmured, before his mouth swooped down to capture hers. Unlike their previous kisses, Talon showed her no gentleness. This time, his mouth demanded, dominated, commanded her surrender.

Her mouth opened on a gasp, and he took immediate advantage. His tongue invaded her mouth, forcing her surrender.

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Talon lowered his body carefully onto his wife’s. He let his chest skim against the hardened nipples beneath her clingy shirt. He insinuated a knee between her legs and pressed his groin against the apex of her thighs.

She whimpered, and he gloried in her surrender. His base instincts demanded he make her his.

Suddenly, her hands slid between their bodies, and for a moment, Talon reveled in the aggressive act. It took a moment for the sexual haze surrounding his mind to part enough for him to register she was pushing against his chest. He pulled back, and she rolled off the chaise, knocking him into the coffee table he’d moved.

“What the—” He ground out.

Lia glared at him. “You may bed anything in a skirt, but I have standards.”

Aroused and furious, Talon watched his wife stomp to the lav—undoubtedly locking herself in.

*

Lia sank to the floor, her back propped against the door. As her breathing slowed, her actions registered. She’d locked herself in the lav. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

Why in all the hells hadn’t she left their quarters? Sure, the guards would have followed her, but she could have gone anywhere aboard ship. But no, she had to lock herself in the lav, trapping herself. She briefly wondered if there was a support group for women who turned stupid when kissed.

Lia pulled her knees up and rested her forehead against them. Taunting Talon hadn’t been the smartest thing she’d ever done. Neither was telling him she had a “past”. Pickings had been slim on Tmesis, and none of the miners had ever turned her head. By the sheer grace of the gods, she’d avoided rape at the hands of various Guildsmen, though she’d had several close calls.

Her first real kisses—she refused to count those forced on her—came from Talon. Given the way her bones melted when the man was in the same room, she doubted she’d

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be able to hold out against him very long. Now the man would expect her to know what she was doing. It was worry over her lack of skill that allowed her to regain control of her senses and break that devastating kiss on the chaise. Pride and embarrassment would keep her from disclosing her virginity to him. She’d either have to find the strength to resist him or bluster her way through future encounters. Of course, first she had to get herself out of the lav. While she tried to think of a way out that would allow her to save face, the passage of time caused her bottom to go numb from sitting on the cold, hard floor. A knock on the door finally broke her concentration.

“Are you planning to spend the night in there?” Talon voice drifted through the door, and she heard the underlying amusement.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” she snapped back and could have bitten her tongue off. Talon had given her the perfect opportunity to leave the lav. All she’d had to do was stand up, open the door, tell him “no”, and leave their quarters. But once again, her temper had circumvented her thought process.

“Lia come out of the lav.”

“No.” No one could accuse her of backing down from her principals. No matter how stupid the principal in question.

“Will you come out if I promise not to kiss you again?”

Hell no. She didn’t want that promise. “You think too highly of yourself.”

“How about if I promise to sleep on the chaise?” He still sounded amused.

“I’m perfectly fine in here.” She wasn’t, but couldn’t seem to keep her foot out of her mouth.

“I could override the lock and drag you out of there.” Now, he sounded exasperated.

“Go ahead and try it. I guarantee you won’t like the results.”

“Fine. Sleep in the tub, then.”

Lia heard his footsteps recede and began to beat her forehead against her knees. No doubt about it. Her IQ had fallen below that of plant life. She’d have to spend the night in the lav, and she had no one to blame but herself.

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She pulled out all the towels and fashioned a make-shift bed between the toilet and the sink. Bunching up a towel to serve as a pillow, Lia lay down and tried to find a comfortable position. Her pallet on Tmesis provided more comfort than the lav floor. The grooves between the tiles pinched at her skin through the towels, imprinting a pattern she knew would still be there in the morning.

Finally, she settled into a semi-tolerable position, but the walls of the small space seemed to press inward, and she found it hard to breathe. Squeezing her eyes shut, Lia concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths. This was a bathroom for crying out loud, not a collapsed mine tunnel.

Thinking of the mines made Lia homesick for the simple life she had left behind. Her hand ran along the site of her healing injury, and her mind turned inward, remembering her last hours in the mine.

Lynaya’s words floated through her mind. “Prepare yourself. Your time has come.”

Lia stretched against the hard tile, winced and rolled over. Great. Her time had come.

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Chapter Thirteen

Lia joined the others for breakfast. She knew her eyes were bloodshot and redrimmed. Her right hand massaged the crick in her neck. Talon pulled her chair from the table without a word. She took her seat, refusing to acknowledge him. The others joined them at the table. Ilexa broke the standard seating arrangement, taking the chair next to Lia. “You’re out of balance…physically misaligned. If you’d allow me, I can help you regain your equilibrium after breakfast.”

“She’ll allow it,” Talon replied, giving Lia a warning look. Lia gritted her teeth against a sharp retort. She’d been about to accept Ilexa’s offer when her high-handed husband stepped in. Though tempted to refuse out of spite, she managed to control her temper. She nodded politely to Ilexa, before covertly shooting Talon a venomous look. The jerk had the audacity to look surprised.

“If it is a matter of balance, perhaps we should resume Ngäkau,” Vardin suggested. Ilexa nodded. “I believe that’s a good idea, but not until tomorrow, after she is better rested.”

“Very well,” Vardin responded.

The way they talked around her, annoyed Lia, but she was too tired to work up any indignation.

“If you feel up to it, maybe we can visit your pirate friends again today,” Ilexa suggested.

Talon and Thane turned matching scowls on the two women.

“You visited those criminals?” Thane demanded.

Talon leaned back in his chair and addressed Lia. “When did you see them?”

“I didn’t see them,” Lia replied, forking up a bite of egg. She let irritation infuse her voice. “Security wouldn’t allow it.”

“The soldiers assured us we would be able to visit Captain Brisby and his crew today. I’m especially looking forward to meeting Tico,” Ilexa added. 142

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“Who is Tico?” Thane asked.

“He’s the captain’s pet,” Lia explained. “Tico’s a bald desert ferret. They’re quite smart, you know.”

“The away team actually rescued a ferret?” Caden asked, incredulous.

“You didn’t expect they would leave a poor, innocent creature behind?” Ilexa demanded.

Lia’s lips twitched at the thought of Tico being a poor, innocent creature. The small creature had big innocent eyes that hid a mind more cunning than Brisby’s. Caden chose to ignore Ilexa’s question. He turned to Talon. “I’m not sure the Damaia should be associating with pirates.”

Lia rolled her eyes. Caden hadn’t been on the bridge when she’d insisted they rescue the pirate and his crew. She doubted he’d take her “association” with them very well.

“I believe that speeder has already left the docking bay,” Talon told him. His face remained impassive, but Lia sensed his underlying irritation with the young soldier. She frowned, not liking she was becoming attuned to Talon. “Lex and I will visit Captain Brisby and his crew after breakfast,” she announced, hoping the authoritative tone would forestall any further debate on the subject. She should have known better.

“After the healing session,” Ilexa interjected.

“I’d rather see my friends first,” Lia stated firmly. Caden gasped in shock. “Friends? Damaia, you shouldn’t romanticize these people. They are dangerous criminals. You should avoid them at all costs. In fact, Captain Artrane should not have brought that trash aboard with you here. N’yota should demand his removal from service for this outrage.”

Lia arched a brow. “The captain acted on my orders when he brought ‘that trash’

aboard. I consider Brisby and his crew family, and you will treat them as such.”

Caden’s jaw dropped, revealing a mouthful of half-chewed eggs. Lia dismissed the arrogant little prick and turned back to Ilexa. “Be careful around Tico. He’ll con you out of any piece of food or shiny object you have.”

“If he’s as cute as you say, he can have anything he wants,” Ilexa replied.

“I’m not sure he’s going to get along with Asha,” Talon put in.

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Lia smiled at him for the first time since their fight. “Actually, in that contest, I’d put my money on Tico. But you’re probably right. I’ll make sure they stay separated.”

The conversation turned to mundane issues about the voyage, and Lia let it flow around her while she ate in silence. When she and Ilexa finally escaped, Vardin joined them. Lia hadn’t seen Talon order the Inderian to guard her with the pirates, but she didn’t doubt he had somehow done it.

*

“Checkmate,” Ilexa said with a smile, moving her bishop on the tri-level chessboard. Brisby leaned back in his chair with an almost comical look of surprise on his face. His crew looked downright shocked at the ease of Ilexa’s win. Out of respect for the aging pirate, Lia swallowed her laugh. Though she might look like spun-candy, her sisterin-law had won a fourth game against one of the system’s most brilliant strategists. Tico leapt across the table from his perch on Brisby’s shoulder. Standing up on his back paws, he caught Ilexa’s face between his paws and chattered excitedly at her.

“Aren’t you darling?” Ilexa cooed.

Tico dropped his paws from her face, and scrambled up to her shoulder. Ilexa smiled when the small animal began to rub his face against hers. She continued to murmur to Tico as he deftly removed her earrings and tucked them into the small harness he wore. Lia shook her head. Her sister-in-law had an abundance of beauty, grace and intelligence, but she had the street smarts of a newborn. Happy with his newly acquired loot, Tico scampered back to Brisby’s shoulder. Falk, Brisby’s first mate, relaxed in a chair where he had watched the game. Now that the match was over, he turned his attention to Lia. “So, our little space monkey has her own planet.”

Guilt at the having deceived her rescuers pierced her heart. She shoved it aside. “I need to talk to you about that. You only have diplomatic immunity until we reach N’yota. After that, you are fair game. If you choose to stay on N’yota, I can grant you a pardon, but my jurisdiction only extends to N’yota’s borders.

“We’d have to stay planet-side?” Brisby sneered.

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“At least think about staying for a little while,” Lia suggested. Brisby grunted and Lia hoped that meant he’d consider it, but she doubted it. The man needed the stars at his feet like most needed oxygen. Her reunion with the crew of the Dawn Rider had been bittersweet, dredging up memories of the freedom and fun she’d had during her two years with them. Those years had been the best of her life, and she cherished their gruff affection.

“You’ll likely be received on N’yota as heroes,” Ilexa interjected.

“Heroes?” Maude asked, one side of her unibrow inching upwards. The Dawn Rider’s mechanic sounded skeptical.

“You rescued Lia,” Ilexa said with a shrug. “My people are in your debt.”

“A wealthy League planet in my debt,” Brisby mused aloud. For some reason, the greed Lia heard in his voice rubbed her the wrong way. She suppressed her irritation, but sought to tamp down his avarice and planning. “Possibly. Of course, they may not take kindly to you not returning me.”

“You didn’t tell us who you were,” he objected.

“Why don’t you tell us what you’ve been doing since Lia last saw you,” Ilexa suggested, clearly wanting to change the subject. The beautiful woman looked surprised when the group of pirates began to laugh.

Lia couldn’t contain a grin. “I don’t think my friends want to detail their activities in front of League representatives.”

A delicate blush stained Ilexa’s cheeks, but she didn’t miss a beat suggesting,

“Perhaps they would prefer to share some childhood stories about you.”

Lia groaned aloud.

“She was the strangest little creature I’d ever met,” Falk announced.

“Strange?” Ilexa sounded outraged.

Brisby laughed. “That’s a gentle description. Now, I ain’t that familiar with kids, but I do know they know their mind. We asked this girl what she wanted for dinner and she stared at us like we’d asked her to do quantum calculus. For the first few weeks, whenever we’d ask her what she wanted, she’d freeze like a gundar in the light.”

Levin, one of the older crew members, snorted. “She got over that pretty damn fast.”

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A round of laughter followed his statement, and Lia stuck her nose in the air. “I was an angel.”

“She bossed us around like she was the captain,” Falk said.

“You should have been so lucky,” Lia informed him, snottily.

“As I recall, you all obeyed her like she was the captain,” Maude teased without looking up from her handheld reader.

“So did you,” Falk shot back.

“That just shows your wisdom.” Lia offered the false praise to the group at large in the haughtiest tone she could manage.

“I think it shows our collective stupidity,” Brisby retorted. Lia crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned back against her seat with an indignant huff. “Clearly your memory is failing in your old age. Otherwise you would recall my brilliance.”

“Like the time you made us travel eighteen light years out of our way to see a circus?” Ivan asked.

“That was a great trip!” Lia protested.

“Especially when the elephant broke Mack’s foot and the ship ran out of fuel,”

Brisby sniped.

“Well, I had fun,” Lia pronounced.

Ilexa began to laugh. “Sounds like you kept this crew on its toes.”

“To say the least,” Falk said with a grin.

“Lia is definitely a force to be reckoned with,” Ilexa commiserated.

“Hey!” Lia protested.

Ilexa rose gracefully from her seat. “I’m afraid we need to prepare for dinner. It was a pleasure to meet all of you. I look forward to getting to know you during the rest of the trip.”

Reluctantly, Lia rose to join Ilexa. The afternoon had passed too quickly, and now she had to return to her quarters. As they left the room, a cowardly part of her hoped Talon wasn’t there.

*

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Talon stared out the portal at the passing blur of stars. His immobile stance contrasted drastically with the churning turmoil in his mind. The Aegir would reach N’yota in a week’s time, and Lia had yet to accept her role as the Damaia. He had to convince to her to embrace her new life before they arrived—or at least resign herself to it.

Talon had dealt with people in many roles over the course of his adult life. He’d acted as a League soldier, commanding men and leading charges into battles. As both the husband to the Damaia and first minister of N’yota, he had played the role of diplomat, smoothing egos and making both sides of an issue feel they had won. As a politician, he had learned the art of careful phrasing to ensure no one felt his political position challenged their carefully held beliefs.

But nothing in his past had prepared him for dealing with his recalcitrant wife. Replaying their interactions in his mind, Talon still didn’t know how to handle her. He decided to be direct. Social niceties made her suspicious, and the idea of trying to manipulate his wife like he would an opposing side of a diplomatic assignment turned his stomach. Having decided on a course of action, he waited for Lia to return to prepare for dinner. Offering a silent prayer to the N’yotan gods, he continued to stare out the portal as he waited.

Talon felt the change in air currents when the door opened, followed by the soft tread of Lia’s feet on the plush carpet. She only took a few steps into the room before stopping. He didn’t doubt she felt dismay at his presence in their quarters. Talon didn’t turn to face his wife when he addressed her. “The fall before you were born, six hundred primary school children died when a nova bomb detonated inside their school. Neither the Gemadam or Lassan House had progeny at the school, but because the school sat on the northern continent, it was considered Gemadam property. Those children died solely because the Gemadam House claimed the land beneath their feet. That is only one of countless atrocities committed during my lifetime. Considering the battle between the ruling lines has gone on for millennia, I can only imagine the actual number of children killed in the conflict. Parents struggled to feed their young, only to see them grow to be slaughtered in the never-ending war.”

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“I—” Lia began.

Without turning from the portal, Talon cut her off by raising his hand. “Regardless of your belief in the Prophecy, your conception and birth has been embraced by a planet exhausted by war. You are their salvation. Since you were born, art forms believed forever lost have reemerged, skills and techniques handed down through families. A strong central government has been erected and justice no longer depends upon family connections. Our world is becoming a paradise, and people are actually enjoying life rather than merely surviving.”

“Talon—” Lia began again.

He turned to face her, letting his determination show on his face. “I don’t want to force you to take your place as the Damaia, but I will. I would like our life together to be filled with laughter and happiness. I want our lovemaking to be passionate and joyous rather than the perfunctory begetting of heirs. But make no mistake, I will force you to assume your rightful role. I will not allow your selfishness to destroy a civilization that is just beginning to reemerge.”

He met his wide-eyed wife’s stare with a ruthless look, careful to hide the sympathy he felt for her. After a moment, her shoulders sagged, and her gaze dropped.

“You’ve made your point. I have no desire to go through life drugged into compliance.”

Talon kept the surprise off his face. He hadn’t considered how he would carry out his threat of forcing his wife into her role as the Damaia, but her automatic assumption he would drug her gave him another unpleasant glimpse into her childhood. He crossed the space between them. Cupping her chin, he gently lifted her face to meet her eyes. “Even though this isn’t the life you chose, I’d like you to find happiness in it.”

“I know.” A sad smile crossed her face. “There’s a kind person underneath that sense of duty and obligation.”

She pulled her face from his grasp, and he reluctantly let her withdraw. She had a lot to think over. With a heavy heart, he watched her walk away from him and his threats. 148

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When the door to the lav closed behind her, he sank into the chair beside the portal, feeling much older than his years.

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Chapter Fourteen

Lia spent her final week aboard the Aegir in contemplation. The “rescue” had ended her mining career, and her failed escape attempt ensured she’d be arriving on N’yota. The only questions she faced centered on her course of action once they reached the planet. She knew they’d increase her security when planetside, which guaranteed she would never manage an escape, and she held no illusions Talon would hesitate to force her compliance with the role of Damaia. Memories of being drugged by the Council left a foul taste in her mouth. They never hesitated to slip her something to perk her up for a celebration or make her appear more somber for a religious service. She had a hard time imagining Talon forcing drugs on her, but the man was ruthless in his determination to see N’yota’s peace last.

In all honesty, Lia admitted even if she managed an escape, her desire for Talon had begun to overwhelm her desire for freedom. The thought of life without him made her feel vaguely nauseated.

She passed her days with the Dawn Rider’s crew, careful to avoid Talon whenever possible. She couldn’t avoid him in their quarters. To her relief and annoyance, Talon left her to her thoughts, speaking to her only when necessary. She would have believed him indifferent to her and the internal battle she waged, except she often caught him studying her in brooding silence, his expression indicating he wanted to say something.

He never did.

Much to her dismay, Lia discovered she couldn’t fall asleep until she felt the mattress dip under her husband’s weight, and though they fell asleep clinging to opposite sides of the bed, Lia always awoke cuddled against him, feeling far too content for comfort.

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reached her home world. To make matters worse, Talon, Ilexa and Caden shared an excitement at being home that grated along her nerves, worsening her mood. As they disembarked from the shuttlecraft that had ferried the group from the ship to the planet, Lia felt Talon’s arm tense beneath her hand.

“Did Lex warn you about her mother?” he asked.

“She was your mother long before she was mine,” Ilexa hissed from behind them. Confused by the unusual byplay between her husband and her sister-in-law, Lia’s gaze swept the small hangar bay. Standing by the doors that clearly led to the main complex, Lia noticed the tall willowy figure of a woman, whom she concluded must be the mother in question.

Caden, holding Asha’s leash, jerked to a stop a few steps ahead of them and turned to look back at Talon. He halted so suddenly, the gangly animal’s front legs pulled up off the ground. “Security protocol dictates no one enters the hangar bay until we’ve cleared decontamination.”

Before Talon could respond, Ilexa interjected in a resigned tone, “You’ve obviously never met our mother. Security protocols are no match for her.”

To Lia’s surprise, Vardin made no objection to the breach in procedure. She could only assume he’d previously met her mother-in-law.

Lia wracked her mind, searching her memory for the name of Talon’s mother, as she stepped into place beneath the decontamination beam. Though the Council had drilled the details of Talon’s father—the leader of the resistance—into her head, she couldn’t recall the name of the man’s widow. Perhaps they hadn’t considered her important enough to mention.

The decontamination beam shut-off with a loud click, and Lia reluctantly let Talon lead her to his mother.

Like Ilexa, the Goddess Fina had blessed this woman with unnatural beauty. With the exception of their eyes and subtle differences in their facial structure, Ilexa and her mother might have been cut from identical molds. Though the older woman’s eyes held the wisdom of age, her face remained unlined. No one would believe the lovely image before them had raised six grown children.

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Lia stiffened as the woman’s rich chocolate gaze flickered over her. To her surprise, Talon’s mother suddenly sank into a full curtsey, gifting Lia with a view of the crown of her head. The woman rose, keeping her eyes respectfully downcast. “Welcome home, Damaia. The land rejoices at your return.”

Discomfited by the woman’s deference, Lia murmured a quiet thank you. A warm smile lit the woman’s face, and her elegant features shone with happiness.

“Now that the formalities are behind us, welcome home, daughter.”

Lia yelped in surprise when the woman flung her arms around her in a surprisingly strong hug.

“Damaia, may I present my mother, Teresa Dhakir.” Talon’s dry, formal tone had others in the hangar bay snickering.

Teresa released Lia and rounded on her son, reaching up to smack him on the back of his head. “Behave yourself. Long have I awaited the day I would welcome my daughter home.”

Talon tilted his head, offering his mother a cocky smile. “Yes ma’am.”

Teresa laughed and embraced him. “I am glad to have you safely returned and proud you have found the Damaia. I never doubted you would return her to us.”

“She prefers her friends and family to call her Lia,” Ilexa stated, stepping forward to hug her mother.

“A lovely name for a lovely girl,” Teresa replied, beaming at Lia over Ilexa’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Lia repeated, squelching the self-conscious urge to shift her weight from foot to foot.

Teresa stepped forward, linked her arm through Lia’s and began pulling her along.

“You’ll forgive my enthusiasm. I have five sons. Lex and I have dreamed of the day we’d have another woman in the family. Come, you must meet your brothers-in-law. They are all here to greet you.”

Lia shot Talon and Ilexa a panicked look over her shoulder, but the two of them merely gave her relieved grins, obviously delighted to not be the target of Teresa’s zeal. 152

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The doors swished open and Teresa hauled Lia forward, into the waiting room. Four large men turned and pinned her with their gaze. Lia’s throat went dry, and she swallowed reflexively.

“Boys, I’d like you to meet your sister-in-law, Lia.”

Boys? Only a mother would get away with calling the four broad-shouldered men before her “boys”.

Three men in front of her saluted her in the League manner, silently letting Lia know they had served tours of duty. The fourth offered her a courtly bow. But they all stared intently at her. Something about the hardened men before her made her nervous and thankful for Thane’s and Vardin’s presence. She wished Talon had let her hold Asha’s leash. Petting the gimfrey calmed her.

To Lia’s relief, Talon stepped up behind her, hooking his arm across her chest. She dropped her chin to rest on his forearm, enjoying the comfort he offered. His touch helped calm the emotional turmoil churning inside her both at the prospect of being back on N’yota and facing Talon’s relatives.

“I’ll be damned. I can’t believe we are all here,” Talon said. Lia felt his excitement at being reunited with his family. Two of the men before her broke into broad smiles at Talon’s enthusiastic greeting. Teresa huffed an offended breath, clearly disapproving of her son’s language.

“Lia, let me introduce you to my brothers,” Talon said. “The one on the far left is Malachi. He’s two years younger than I am. You have a lot in common. You’re both artists.”

Malachi, one of the two who smiled at her, looked the most like Talon. The two stood at the same height and had the same piercing silver eyes and dark hair. Unlike Talon, Malachi’s hair was long and flowed freely down his back in a silken waterfall. The man stepped forward and offered Lia an exaggerated bow. “What a shame I was not first born. I would consider myself lucky to call such a beauty my own.” The man looked up from his bow and comically waggled his eyebrows at her. Lia smiled in response. Malachi clearly wanted to help put her at ease. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

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“Likewise, dear sister. Tell me. Do you paint as well?”

“I work with glass,” Lia replied, amused at Malachi’s antics.

“Don’t be taken in by Mal’s phony charm,” Talon warned.

“Phony?” Malachi straightened and clutched his heart. “You wound me Big Brother.”

Talon snorted, but ignored Malachi’s antics. “Next to him is Bastian. Bastian’s a pilot.”

Bastian arched an eyebrow at Talon’s terse introduction. The man had his mother’s dark eyes and silver-blond hair, a striking combination set against his rugged features. She discerned Talon disproved of this brother, and that that disapproval amused Bastian.

“I’m honored to meet you, Damaia.”

“Lia,” both Talon and Lia corrected.

The man next to Bastian hooted in laughter. “You sound like an old married couple. But, then again, I guess that’s what you are.” He turned a dazzling smile on Lia. “I’m Tristan. Welcome home, Lia.”

“Thank you,” she said, wondering what he found funny.

“That leaves me,” the last man said, offering her a warm and sincere smile. “I’m Dante.”

She felt herself begin to relax at the genuine welcome she received. She didn’t doubt for a minute the men were as lethal as her husband, but they didn’t appear to mean her harm. She silently cautioned herself to be suspicious. Her instincts may tell her she was safe, but instinct was no substitute for common sense. The door to the main complex opened, and an officer wearing the deep blue of the N’yotan Home Guard strode purposefully into the decon waiting room. Talon released Lia and crossed to meet the man.

“Now that the formal introductions are behind us, do you have a hug for your big brothers?” Malachi asked.

His casual invitation for an embrace shocked Lia, but she nearly laughed at her assumption when Ilexa scooted around her to hug her brothers. 154

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With her new family distracted, Lia glanced over at Talon and saw his expression become carefully blank. Her heart rate increased when he turned towards her, and she couldn’t identify the emotion swirling in his eyes. With a slight tilt of his head, he indicated she should join him.

Nerves fluttered in her belly as she moved towards Talon and the officer.

“Lia, Lord Constantine is here. He wants to see you,” Talon told her quietly, slipping a supportive arm around her waist and watching her with concerned eyes.

“Lord Constantine?”

Talon’s arm tightened reflexively around her. “Your father.”

She blinked as understanding dawned. “The Lassan donor. Why does he want to see me?”

Something dark swam in Talon’s eyes, but quickly disappeared behind his cool facade. “He claims he wants to meet his daughter.”

“Why?”

To Lia’s surprise, Talon visibly battled back the urge to storm out of the room and wreak bloody havoc. With his bloodlust under control—barely—he tried to address Lia’s question. “You are the only child the Lassan line will ever have.”

She nodded. “The same for the Gemadam line.”

Addressing the Guard, Talon asked, “Is Lord Constantine armed? How many are with him?”

The man saluted and offered Lia a formal bow. “Welcome home, Damaia,” he said reverently. “I’m Colonel Alaric Turei of the Home Guard.”

Beneath the adoration, Lia glimpsed a spark of pure male interest. She didn’t doubt Talon had seen the spark, given the harsher-than-necessary tone he used to address the guard.

“Answer the questions.”

The Guard’s attention snapped back to Talon at the barked order. “Lord Constantine arrived with two personal guards. The guards surrendered their blasters. We searched all three of them and found no concealed weapons.”

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Lia could almost see Talon’s mind turning over his options. She knew the unannounced arrival of Lord Constantine raised his suspicions, but the political ramifications of turning away the Damaia’s “father” might be disastrous. If they allowed Constantine to meet Lia, Talon would need to be absolutely certain of Lia’s safety. Talon surprised her by placing the decision in her hands. “Lia, do you want to meet Lord Constantine?”

“To turn him away would offend the House of Lassan,” Lia pointed out. Talon caught Vardin’s eye and waited for the large man to lumber over to them.

“Lord Constantine wishes to meet the Damaia. He is a member of the House of Lassan. He waits in the lobby. I’d like you to search him for weapons and escort him—and only him—in here.”

Vardin saluted and silently turned to carry out Talon’s orders. “Colonel Turei, I want you to send Lord Constantine’s guard home. Have three of your men escort them and report back when they reach their destination.”

“Lord Constantine—” The Colonel began.

“Will be escorted back to his home in the company of Guard members.” Talon’s tone brooked no argument, and the Colonel reluctantly left with his orders. When the soldier left the reception area, Talon’s family immediately surrounded them.

“What’s wrong?” Teresa asked.

“Lord Constantine is here.”

“How’d he know the Damaia arrived today?” Malachi demanded.

“The Lassan and Gemadam Houses were informed this morning—as were the High Priest and Priestess. I expected them to arrive, not a representative of the Lassan line,”

Talon explained.

“No press,” Lia interjected.

“What?” Talon looked startled, almost as though he’d forgotten she stood beside him.

“No press. No news cameras. No media,” Lia explained. “The religious sect only comes when the media is present.”

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The cynical statement earned her several owl-eyed stares Lia would have found amusing had she not been anticipating another assassination attempt—this one at the hands of her “father”.

Before anyone vocally objected to her statement, the door opened, and Vardin escorted a tall, slender man into the reception area. Talon hauled Lia tightly against his side, and her brothers-in-law flanked them in a tight semi-circle. The protective gesture surprised and heartened her, as she faced Lord Constantine.

She’d gotten her unusual eyes from him. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Her mind snagged on the strange genetic link she shared with the man in front of her and couldn’t get loose.

Lord Constantine executed a perfunctory bow with an awkward movement. Lia assumed he was accustomed to receiving obeisance rather than giving it.

“By the Powers,” the man breathed as he stared at Lia. “She is the living embodiment of the Prophetess.”

“She can hear you,” Talon snapped out.

Lia swallowed a smile. For someone who enjoyed talking around her, he sure took quick offense when someone else did the same thing.

Lord Constantine blinked in surprised at Talon’s tone. “Forgive me, Damaia. I was surprised.”

Lia inclined her head, uncertain how to address the man.

“Welcome home, Damaia. I would be honored if you would allow me to call you daughter,” Lord Constantine’s words rang with the cadence of a practiced speech, and Lia found herself wondering if meeting her made him nervous because of their blood tie or because she was the Damaia.

Lord Constantine took a step towards Lia, only to draw up sharply against the sharp blade Vardin laid against his throat.

Lia barely registered Vardin’s action when she found herself shoved behind Talon. To her amazement, all her brothers-in-law had pulled a weapon of some kind. Ilexa and

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Teresa had also found themselves shoved behind the line of men. Lia’s gaze caught her sister-in-law’s and they shared a silent moment of exasperation. Returning her attention to the melee before her, Lia saw the man had pulled his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. Talon nodded at Vardin, who lowered his dagger, revealing a thin line of red across Lord Constantine’s neck. With the knife gone, Lord Constantine’s expression turned indignant. “I merely wished to greet my daughter,” the man protested.

The word “daughter” sounded strange when applied to her. Lia was having a hard enough time dealing with Talon’s blood kin; the idea of her own was too bizarre to contemplate.

“You can greet her from where you stand,” Talon informed him coldly. Lord Constantine looked as though he would protest, but his eyes flickered back to Lia and his ire visibly dissipated. He stared at her, desperately searching for something to say.

Lia took pity on him. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Constantine.”

Gratitude softened the tension in his face. “I’m sorry it took me so long to…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Meet you.”

“Convenient,” sneered Tristan. “Now that she’s ready to ascend the throne, you take an interest in her.”

“Tristan,” Talon barked a warning.

Tristan’s ferocity in her defense startled Lia, and she wondered if his passion stemmed from loyalty to his family—which she supposed now included her—or if something else about the Lassan heir roused his fury. Lord Constantine didn’t take his attention from Lia, clearly directing his response to her. “I was fifteen when the decision to…conceive the Damaia was made, and the subsequent order to sterilize the direct lines of the two Houses was issued. I was young and resentful. Over the years, the desire to know the only offspring I will ever have grew.”

“Yet you made no overtures to her,” Ilexa said with icy politeness. 158

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“My first attempt at a meeting occurred a few weeks after you disappeared. It was years before the Council admitted you weren’t away at school, but had gone missing.”

The sincerity radiating from the man tugged at Lia’s heart. She stepped forward, still uncertain of what she’d say, when Talon yanked her back. The infuriating man didn’t even spare her a glance, but addressed Lord Constantine.

“Regardless, attempts on Lady Ophelia’s life have been made in the name of your House.”

“Many individuals do things, claiming the Lassan name. Do not confuse the actions of fanatics with the House of Lassan. No attempt on my daughter has ever been sanctioned by my line,” Lord Constantine declared with chilling finality.

“Lord Constantine—” Lia began.

The older man winced at the title. “I realize we are strangers and addressing me as

‘father’ would make you uncomfortable. Perhaps you might forgo the formality of my title and address me as Constantine?”

The humble request touched Lia, and she elbowed Talon to gain her release. She stepped closer to the Lassan heir, ignoring the battle-ready tension running through those around her. “Constantine, I would be pleased if you would call me Lia.”

The man offered her a full-fledged smile. “I’m delighted to finally meet you, Lia.”

Talon moved to stand behind her. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pulled her flush against him. “Forgive our suspicious manner, but Lia’s safety overrides courtesy.”

While his words were diplomatic, he didn’t even try to hide the threat. Lia tensed, and Talon tightened his grip on her shoulders in silent warning. Constantine and Talon glared at each other over her head for a solid minute, before some unspoken and unfathomable understanding passed between them.

Lord Constantine gave Talon a curt nod before lowering his gaze to Lia’s. “It was a pleasure to spend time, however brief, with you. I hope we can get to know one another better once you are settled.”

“I look forward to it,” Lia replied, surprised to find the statement true.

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Colonel Turei appeared at Lord Constantine’s elbow. “My lord, if you will come with me.”

Constantine cast one last look at Lia and turned to follow the guard out. As soon as the doors slid closed behind them, Dante turned to Talon. “Let’s get your wife to a more secure location before more unexpected guests arrive.”

Lia’s stomach fluttered with pleasure at Dante’s casual reference to her. She liked being Talon’s wife rather than the Damaia.

Still, she gritted her teeth when Talon hauled her unceremoniously from the room. 160

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Chapter Fifteen

Talon felt so light, he’d have sworn someone had turned down the gravity on the planet. He watched his young wife staring out the window at the passing scenery, his triumphant emotions bordering on glee.

He’d done it. He’d found the Damaia, returned her to her people and secured his planet’s peace. He ignored the pensive look on Lia’s face, determined to savor the satisfaction of the moment.

Somehow, Malachi had found a transport large enough to carry his entire family, as well as Thane and Vardin. The worn transport was clean, but given its age, it was dubious anyone would suspect the Damaia traveled within it.

Caden had been dismissed and had returned to his family for a visit. Now that they were planetside, the Home Guard held the responsibility for the Damaia’s security. Thane and Vardin had chosen to stay at the invitation from his mother, who considered the two warriors members of her extended family and treated them as such. He’d had to hide a smile when Teresa ordered the fierce Inderian around as though he were a small child.

“You must be overjoyed to finally be home,” his mother said to Lia. So much for savoring the moment.

Lia sat silently on the seat, Asha in her lap. The tight grip she had on her pet gave the appearance she held the animal still. Talon knew better. She clutched Asha the way a child held a blanket. The stress of returning to N’yota rode her hard and while she’d seemed sympathetic to Lord Constantine, he worried about what emotional toll the meeting had taken.

Lia offered his mother a wan smile in response, but Teresa’s children did not live in fear of the woman because she accepted evasive answers. Her mahogany eyes narrowed on her daughter-in-law. “You do not seem pleased to have returned to your childhood home—or your people.”

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“I’m a little overwhelmed,” Lia replied. Talon could have warned her the innocent look on her face wouldn’t deter Teresa.

“It is more than that,” Teresa announced, studying Lia’s face closely. “Why are you not dancing in delight at your return?”

Lia shot him a desperate look, before turning back to Teresa. “I’m not the type to

‘dance in delight’.”

Talon decided to come to his wife’s rescue. “Mother—”

“Not now Talon.” Teresa reached out and touched Lia’s cheek in a motherly caress.

“Forgive an old woman her nosiness. As a mother, I cannot be happy if my children are not happy. You are one of my children.”

Lia looked stunned at Teresa’s sincerity. “I…” Her voice trailed off.

“That’s enough, Mother,” Talon said with warning in his voice. “Lia isn’t used to…familial concern.”

Teresa sniffed and glared at her son. “You make it sound as though I am torturing your wife.”

Talon smiled at his mother’s outrage. The woman was a force to be reckoned with.

“Not at all, but I suggest we ease Lia into the family slowly.”

Dante laughed out loud. “What Big Brother is trying to say is ‘back off’.”

Talon turned a hard look at his brother, before saying in a threatening tone. “Dante.”

“Don’t worry, Talon. We aren’t going to torment your bride,” Dante said, unperturbed by his brother’s annoyance. “Lia, call off your brute of a husband. I promise we won’t harass you.”

Lia turned wide eyes to her husband, and Talon read her surprise at the idea she had the ability to “call him off”. He almost laughed out loud. The woman could wrap him around her little finger with the barest flutter of her lashes if she only knew it. Fortunately for him, she didn’t.

Lia turned those unusual eyes back to his mother. He watched her force a smile to her lips. Ignoring Dante, she told Teresa, “I have grown accustomed to a life outside the public eye. I admit to being reluctant to having my every action critiqued.”

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His mother reached across the small transport to pat his wife’s knee. “Don’t worry, Lia. N’yota will be so glad to have you home, we will not demand too much of you.”

Vibrant, starburst eyes met his. He saw despair in those beautiful eyes and knew his mother’s platitudes had provided little comfort to his wife. Talon moved from his seat across from Lia to sit next to her. He shoved Ilexa out of the way without a second thought. Wrapping an arm around his wife, he tried to offer her what comfort he physically could. “We’ll have to find ways you can get away without too much fuss.”

“And the palace is large. You will have ample space to yourselves,” Teresa interjected.

“Palace?” Lia asked.

“The palace was completed several years ago,” Malachi responded.

“I don’t recall any palace being planned,” Lia said.

“It is the central building in the new government citadel. The entire complex was planned before you were born,” Teresa said.

“I see,” Lia replied quietly.

“It’s a real work of art,” Malachi continued, warming to the topic. “I’ve been inside a few times to work on commissioned pieces, but tomorrow’s coronation will be the first time the palace is officially open.”

“Tomorrow?” Lia squeaked.

Talon gave her a squeeze, and addressed Malachi. “So soon?”

“You didn’t know?” Lia asked.

Talon glanced down at her. “I’ve made ‘official’ plans through the Aegir’s communications system while Mal’s been working quietly to set up the real coronation.”

Teresa frowned at Talon and Mal. “That seems like quite a lot of unnecessary work.”

“It’s for Lia’s security,” Talon explained.

“I can’t imagine such deceit would be necessary. It might cause confusion with the Home Guard.”

“Someone’s tried to kill Lia twice already,” Ilexa interjected quietly. Teresa gasped, clearly horrified. “I can’t believe it. She’s our salvation.”

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“Believe it,” Talon snapped. He hadn’t missed the way his tense wife had begun to vibrate like a plucked harp string at the word “salvation”.

“You made all your plans easy to intercept,” Lia said quietly. Talon knew the others in the car would hear deduction in her tone, but he caught the censure in her voice. He had known she wouldn’t be pleased to be excluded from the decision-making process, but he figured she had enough to contend with as they approached N’yota. The coronation plans would do nothing but increase her unhappiness.

“That’s right. I made arrangements for us to stay in the palace tonight, but we’ll actually be staying…?”

Malachi smiled. “At the homestead.”

Talon grinned. “Perfect.”

“The homestead?” Lia asked.

“It’s my family’s land. The place I grew up,” Talon replied.

“You’ll love it,” Ilexa said with a smile. “I’ll show you where I built a castle to live away from the evils of brothers.”

“If I remember, I conquered that castle,” Malachi said with a laugh.

“And Mother boxed your ears for it,” Ilexa shot back.

*

Lia stared out the window of Talon’s childhood bedroom, but couldn’t focus her attention on the rolling green hills or multi-colored sunset. She heard the door behind her open and close. The heavy tread identified her husband moments before she inhaled his familiar scent and felt his arms wrap around her. She couldn’t stop her body from relaxing against him.

Talon practically vibrated with his joy at being home and being surrounded by his family. Perversely, his sense of happiness and well-being increased her fear. Talon dropped his chin, resting it atop her head in a casual, affectionate gesture that broke the dam, freeing the question that had been tormenting her for weeks.

“What do I do now?” Lia asked. She’d intended her question to be matter-of-fact. To her unending embarrassment, her voice quivered.

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“The coronation ceremony is scheduled for the morning.”

“I know that,” she snapped. “Then what?”

“Then you formally ascend the throne.”

“And then?”

“Then what?”

“Exactly!”

“Lia, you are making me dizzy.”

“What do I do then?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice when she added, “Aside from lying around, waiting for you to get me pregnant.”

Talon stiffened, and she sensed his outrage. Lia swallowed the apology that bubbled in her chest. She knew he hated himself for threatening her. She knew he hated himself more for knowing he would force her to assume her “rightful” place.

“Lia…” She heard the warning and the plea in his voice.

“What do I do after the ceremony?” she asked. “How do I spend my days? What does the Damaia do?”

Talon stepped back, tugging her with him until she suddenly lost her balance and tumbled into his lap. He’d settled himself into a large, worn chair next to the window. Tucked into his body, surrounded by his scent, her muscles relaxed and she melted against him.

“All the planning that went into creating the Damaia—did anyone consider what to do with me now that I exist?” she asked, shifting in her husband’s lap. He grabbed her hips, stilling her movements. “Keep moving like that sweetheart, and I’ll show you exactly what I’ve considered doing with you since we found you.”

Lia flushed with pleasure at his admittance and bit back a flirty response. The man might make her pulse race and toes curl, but she needed to find her path—not throw her husband to the ground and have her wicked way with him. No matter how warm and wet she grew in response to the hard, throbbing bulge beneath her bottom. Or how vivid her fantasies had become as she lay next to him in the bed aboard the Aegir.

“Talon, I’m serious,” she said quietly.

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He sighed and began to caress her back in soothing circles. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but there’s no definite answer to your question.”

Lia’s heart did a little flip at the unexpected endearment and her pulse rate increased. With effort, she focused on her husband’s words.

“Much of your role is ceremonial. The government restructuring leaves you as the planetary head, but all legislative authority rests with the Senate. Your signature is required on all laws, but only as a matter of form.”

“I sign laws that I can’t veto? A lot of money and effort went into developing a Damaia. It would’ve been cheaper to produce a rubber stamp,” Lia sniped. Talon’s hands slid up to massage the knots in her shoulders. “Your primary responsibilities are diplomatic. You represent N’yota in all treaty and alliance negotiations, and the diplomatic corps reports directly to you.”

The dark cloud over her mood began to lift. This was important. It was something that required independent thought—and it was hers. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Talon reassured her with a chuckle, before turning serious again. “The most important task you have is to reassure our people. We may appear to be a flourishing, wealthy League planet, but beneath the gossamer mask lies a war-ravaged people who fear the new order isn’t strong enough to hold them together.”

“By ‘new order’, you mean me,” Lia clarified, meeting his eyes. A rueful grin played with the corners of his mouth. “I meant for you to silently infer that, but yes.”

“No pressure,” Lia said, wryly. “I just have to hold a planet together while avoiding assassins.”

Talon shifted her in his arms until she lay cradled against him. With his free hand, he brushed her hair from her face. “I’m not going to let assassins get to you. And you’re wrong. You don’t have to hold the planet together. We do. You aren’t in this alone anymore, sweetheart.”

“Really?” she breathed, drowning in his eyes.

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“Really,” he repeated. “Lia there’s never been a Damaia before. You get to define that role, shape it how you see fit. The future page is blank. You don’t have to read words written by others—you get to be the writer.”

Passion darkened Talon’s eyes to the color of storm clouds, and the strong pulsing beneath her seat told her the passion that swirled within him wasn’t political in nature. She licked her lips and felt Talon’s body tighten in response.

“If I’m the writer, what does that make you?” she teased, though her voice had become so husky it didn’t sound as though it belonged to her.

“The editor,” he growled before capturing her mouth in a ravenous kiss. She wound her arms around his neck as she drowned in the magic he worked with his mouth. Her tongue dueled with his, her mouth flooding with his rich, spicy taste. Without breaking the kiss, Talon turned her so she straddled him in the chair, nestling his hardness against her core. Her body responded to the erotic stimulation with pure instinct. Her hips began to rock against him and low moans issued from her throat. Talon trailed hot kisses from her mouth to the column of her throat. She tilted her head to give him better access. His thumb found the hard point of her nipple and stroked it with a feather-light caress through her clothing. Sharp pleasure rippled through her at the butterfly touch. Her pulse raced, and she began to take deep, gasping breaths. A loud knocking sound startled her from the passionate haze her husband had created.

“Talon? Lia?” Teresa’s voice floated across the room. “Dinner’s ready.”

Talon froze for a beat, before raising his head to stare at the door. The look of frustration on his face was so severe, it was comical. Had she not been suffering the pains of arousal herself, Lia would have laughed aloud.

“Talon?” Teresa called in a louder voice. “Did you hear me?”

Talon dropped his forehead against Lia’s with a loud groan. “We’ll be down in a minute,” he called.

She felt his…enthusiasm…fade beneath her. For some reason, the situation made Lia begin to laugh.

Talon pulled back with a frustrated glare. “Nothing like my mother to kill the mood.”

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Unable to resist, Lia smiled sweetly. “My mood is just fine.”

Talon rose, dumping her on the floor. “Mine isn’t.”

Lia rolled her eyes behind closed lids and bit the inside of her cheek to keep the smile from her face. No matter how old a man got, he was still a little boy around his mother.

She opened her eyes to see Talon standing above her with a sheepish look on his face.

“Sorry about that,” he said, offering her a hand.

She took his proffered hand, wondering if he was apologizing for dumping her on the floor or for starting something they couldn’t finish. Regardless, she felt a zing of excitement at the passion Talon had displayed and a shiver of excitement when he didn’t release her hand once she regained her feet.

This was the first time he’d truly given himself over to the attraction between them and it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Smiling, she let him lead her to the dining room.

*

Teresa had cooked a large celebration dinner and fed Asha so many scraps the gimfrey had fallen into a satiated food coma in the kitchen. For her part, Lia found herself seated across from Talon at the dining room table. To accommodate everyone, two small folding tables had been set up in the room. The meal was loud, chaotic and strangely comfortable. Lia watched Talon’s siblings jockey for preferred dishes and the serving salvers rotated around the tables, but a glance from Teresa quelled any burgeoning arguments. Lia let the pandemonium flow around her, enjoying the sensation of belonging to a family.

Talon spooned some majani onto his plate, and passed the tureen to his mother. He glanced across the table at her, and Lia’s heart skipped a beat when the handsome man winked at her. Her libido still hadn’t cooled from their earlier activities, and Lia wanted to crawl across the table and plant her lips against his. 168

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She watched him interact with his family and felt a strange contentment settle into her bones. This was what she had always dreamed of having. This feeling of belonging that she’d never had before—not even with the crew of the Dawn Rider. Lia speared a vegetable with her fork and made noncommittal noises when addressed. She’d spent the time since Talon found her struggling against fate. Lynaya’s words floated through her mind. Lia isn’t running from her past. She’s running from her future. The old crone had been right. She’d been running from her destiny all her life—even before her escape from the Cordoba. She had resigned herself to living out her life as the Damaia, but what if she embraced the role rather than suffering it?

For the first time, Lia began to wonder if Lynaya might be wiser than she’d originally believed. What else had the old woman said? You are no longer the child you were before you came here. You must realize that while you must fulfill your destiny, you control your fate.

Hadn’t that been her complaint all along? That her life wasn’t hers to live as she saw fit. Since Talon had found her, she’d made decisions he and the others hadn’t approved of, but no one had silenced her—and she’d almost always gotten her way. Laughter bubbled around her, drawing her attention. She faked a grin and caught Talon giving her a concerned look. The fake grin became a real one. The man clearly worried about what was going on in her head.

If he only knew.

What if she took Lynaya’s advice and embraced her destiny? She could use her position as a planetary sovereign to ensure peace reigned on N’yota. Talon had told her she would be responsible for N’yotan diplomacy and would represent the planet before the League. That meant she would be able to take a seat on the League Planetary Assembly. With that seat, she could bring the problems faced by the miners who toiled for the Guild to the highest governing body in the galaxy. The Guild might operate outside League territory, but with the pressure the Planetary Assembly could bring to bear, the miners would find themselves in a much better situation.

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Of course, embracing her role as the Damaia would certainly mean embracing Talon as her husband. Something that would be no hardship, given the man’s godlike physique and the way her knees melted when he walked into a room. Now that she’d officially given herself permission to sleep with her husband, Lia found herself wondering why she had waited. She lifted her wine glass for a sip and met Talon’s silvery gaze over the glass. Unable to resist, she traced the rim with her tongue before touching the glass to her lips.

Her husband arrested in the middle of slicing his steak, his grey eyes smoking. She savored the knowledge he wanted her and belatedly realized he had wanted her since finding her on Tmesis—or at least since she’d taken a shower. His patience with her over the physical aspects of their relationship warmed her heart. Taking a fortifying gulp of her wine, Lia decided she would be Talon’s wife in truth before formally ascending the N’yotan throne. It was symbolic somehow. She was his wife before she was the Damaia.

She suddenly realized Malachi had asked her a question. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my mind wandered,” Lia apologized.

Malachi smiled. “You said you did glass work. Do you do torch work or blown glass?”

“Both, but I prefer to work with blown glass.” Lia replied.

“Delicate work,” Malachi said.

“It can be,” she agreed. “Of course, if you screw up, all you have to do is melt the glass back down and start over.”

Malachi shook his head. “Given the number of canvases I’ve had to throw out, maybe I should have become a glassworker instead of a painter.”

Lia smiled. “I’d love to see some of your pieces.”

“You’re looking at some,” Talon interjected.

“I bet your pardon?”

“Everything on the walls and everything sculpted in the house was done by Mal.”

Malachi glanced around the room at the childish drawings hanging on the walls. “I got better. I promise.”

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Lia laughed, and Teresa scolded her son. “These works are precious to me.”

Malachi ignored his mother. “I got much better,” he said with an endearing grin that reminded her of his brother.

“It would be hard to get any worse,” Talon goaded, his gaze fixed on a crayon-drawn picture that vaguely resembled some sort of animal Lia guessed might have been a quadruped.

“If you’ll take some free advice from your brother, I’d suggest you set up your studio as soon as you move into the palace. Make sure you schedule time to work on your art, or everyone will run you ragged and you’ll never get to it.”

“Thanks, Malachi,” Lia said. “I’ll do that.”

“You should see her work. She’s quite talented. People will be lining up to buy her art,” Talon told the table.

Lia frowned at that. “People will line up to buy things made by the Damaia, whether they like them or not.”

“If you’d prefer, I can help you sell things off-world, under a false name. That way, you know people are buying your work because they enjoy it,” Malachi volunteered.

“Thank you,” Lia said. “I may take you up on that.”

“I expect you to,” Malachi replied with a wide smile. “That’s what family is for.”

Tristan leaned back from one of the side tables, drawing everyone’s attention. “Mal, what time is the coronation in the morning?”

Lia bit the inside of her cheek to stifle her laughter. Tristan sat between Thane and Vardin, both of whom had likely been peppering him with questions about the security for the coronation. She imagined being stuck at a table with those two anticipating a major security event and repressed a shudder.

“Midmorning at four bells,” Malachi replied. “Lia should leave here by the striking of the second morning bells.”

“What about a coronation gown?” Ilexa asked from the other folding table.

“A coronation gown is hanging in Talon’s closet,” Teresa said, calmly. Lia hadn’t even considered the practicalities of the coronation. The pomp, circumstance, clothing, protocol and hundreds of thousands of eyes focused on her…

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Butterflies began trying to beat their way out of her abdominal cavity with sledgehammers.

She schooled her features to a neutral expression and looked at Talon. He smiled at her.

“Don’t worry. All you have to do is walk down the aisle, kneel before the High Priestess, let her place a diadem on your head, and rise. The ceremony’s pretty simple.”

“I’m not worried,” she assured him, lying through her teeth. Talon gave her a knowing look. “That’s good, because there is nothing to worry about.”

“I suppose the two of you will move into the palace tomorrow,” Teresa said sadly. Talon nodded. “Lia will be safer at the palace once the coronation occurs.”

“Perhaps we could all have dinner at the palace tomorrow night,” Lia suggested, wanting to enjoy the warmth of her newly found family after the formal event.

“We’ll see if something can be arranged,” Talon assured her, clearly pleased at the suggestion.

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Chapter Sixteen

The door to the bedroom closed with a loud click. Talon watched his wife cross to the window she had stood before earlier. Two of the planet’s three moons were full. Lia stood bathed in the moonlight, looking so beautiful he hardly believed she was real. Dinner had gone well. He’d worried about how Lia would react to his boisterous family. Fearing she’d be overwhelmed, he’d delighted in seeing her relax and enjoy the evening. The only glitch had been the mention of the coronation. Though her features had remained serene, Talon had sensed her distress.

The conversation had moved on, but his wife had not completely relaxed. Unable to resist her siren’s lure, Talon crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “My family has fallen under your spell.”

“My spell?”

“Mmm-hmmm. I think if our marriage ever dissolved, they’d want to keep you rather than me,” he told her.

“We’re sealed. The marriage can’t be dissolved,” she said with the faintest bite to her words before letting a small smile lift the edges of her lips. “I like them.”

“I’m glad.”

They stood staring out at the night in companionable silence. He breathed in her sweet scent and enjoyed the feel of her soft flesh in his arms. The pleasant sensation produced the expected biological result, but he continued to hold her against him, not trying to hide his hardening anatomy.

His fiery little wife didn’t pull away from him. Instead, she pressed backwards against him, drawing a groan from his throat. His arms tightened reflexively. She struggled against the sudden squeeze, and he reluctantly loosened his grip. To his surprise, she turned in his arms and lifted her mouth to brush against his with a feather-light touch. Not stopping to question his good fortune, Talon pulled her flush against himself and devoured her mouth.

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She tasted like dewberries, and he couldn’t get enough. His mouth slanted over hers again and again, his primal instincts demanding her surrender. He gave no quarter, and her body melted into his.

When he realized he was about to throw her to the carpet, he made himself pull back. Her lips were wet and swollen from his kisses, and those beautiful eyes that haunted his dreams were heavy-lidded with passion.

He tried to speak, cleared his throat and tried again. “Baby, if you want me to stop, you need to tell me now.”

She gave him a languid, cat-like smile and replied, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Talon’s heart rate accelerated, but he managed not to fall on her like a ravenous beast. “I need you to be sure.”

“I’m sure,” she whispered.

Talon lifted a hand and cupped her face. He lowered his mouth slowly back to hers, giving her ample time to change her mind. When his lips touched hers again, he kept a tight grip on his lust, unwilling to frighten her. He used all the skill he possessed to rouse her passions.

He tasted and teased, plundered and withheld. With only his mouth, he had her clinging to him and gasping in breathy moans that made him so hard, he hurt. Threading a hand in her hair, he tugged her head back, exposing the pale cream of her throat to his mouth. He nibbled and sucked his way down the slim column, enjoying the flavor of her skin.

She rubbed her body against his in desperation as he worked to inflame her. Without lifting his head from her throat, he brought his hands up to cup her breasts through the tunic she wore. They swelled at his touch, pushing hard peaks against his palms. Unable to wait any longer, Talon lifted his head and pulled her tunic off. The scrap of lace covering her chest barely covered anything and his mouth went dry at the sight. He pulled her up onto her toes and buried his face in the cleft between her breasts. Her hands reached up to hold his head in place as he sucked a pebbled nipple through the lace. She gave a choked cry of delight.

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Talon continued to tease her breasts with his mouth, while he struggled to find the closure to her skirt. Frustrated, he finally grabbed both sides of a seam and pulled. The ripping sounded deafening in comparison to their harsh breathing. Lia gasped, “My skirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” Talon growled, yanking the tatters from her hips. He pulled back and stared at the beautiful body he’d revealed. His wife had the figure of a mythical enchantress. One that had cost millions of sailors their lives by causing them to dash their ships against rocks in the hope of another glimpse of her seductive curves. The bits of lace she called lingerie teased him with glimpses of delectable, pink flesh. He lifted her out of her shoes and carried her to the bed, where he deposited her gently against the pillows. He stepped back and began to strip his clothing. Lia rose to her knees, and began pressing kisses against the flesh revealed when he removed his shirt. She traced the chain with a finger. “I can’t believe you still wear this.”

“I haven’t taken it off since you gave it to me. I took a lot of ribbing during basic training for wearing a necklace.”

“I’m sorry it caused you such a headache,” she teased. “Maybe I can make it up to you.” Her pink tongue flickered over a dark, male nipple, and Talon groaned in pleasure as he fumbled with the seal on his pants.

“Do you like that?” the little vixen asked with a shy smile.

“More than words can say, sweetheart.”

She took his other nipple into her mouth, and suddenly, he couldn’t get his pants off fast enough. He stripped his pants and underwear in one motion. Briefly, he wondered when he’d lost his shoes, but didn’t dwell on it. He was quickly losing the ability for rational thought.

He crawled onto the bed, taking Lia down with him. Levering himself on one arm and leaving their legs entwined, he slowly peeled the bra from her body. He gently caressed her bared breasts, before curling his tongue around a peaked nipple. Lia almost shot off the bed. Pleased with her reaction, Talon trailed a hand along her naked abdomen. Reaching her panties, he slid his fingers beneath the elastic and stroked

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the soft hair hidden there. When she parted her legs to allow him greater access, Talon took advantage and slid his fingers between her legs. Satisfied with the amount of moisture, he stripped her panties from her and rolled on top of her. He caught her mouth in a searing kiss as he settled between her thighs. Lia’s arms wrapped around his neck, and she returned his ardor. She lifted her hips and rubbed her cleft against him.

Talon groaned. With a restraint he didn’t know he had, he asked, “Are you sure you are ready for this, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Lia almost shouted. “Now, Talon.”

Unable to hold back in the face of her demands, he thrust himself to the hilt, heard her cry out and stilled in shock.

“Lia?” he asked, stunned.

“Don’t move,” she pleaded.

He forced himself to his elbows and met her tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have been more careful.”

Tears tracked down her cheeks and would have unmanned him if he hadn’t been seated deep within her heat. He lifted a hand and wiped away her tears, guilt swamped him, tinged with a possessive joy that no other man had enjoyed her body. He took her mouth in another passionate kiss, relieved when she began to hesitantly respond to the stroke of his tongue. With infinite care, he stoked the fire within her, bringing her back to a fevered pitch. When her hips began to shift against him, he could have sung praises to all the gods in the pantheon.

Taking care to control his passion, he started to move within her. He began with a gentle rocking motion, he moved to shallow thrusts. Watching her face for signs of pain, he worked his body into hers. As his movements became more forceful, he slipped a hand between their joined bodies.

A fine sheen of sweat coated his flesh when Lia arched against him with a low cry. Blissfully, he followed her over the edge. Talon collapsed against her, before wrapping his arms around her and rolling to his back.

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Lia snuggled against his chest, and he traced her spine with his fingers. They lay in silence for several minutes, their harsh breathing the only sound in the room. Long minutes later, he raised his head and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I was embarrassed.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant. “I didn’t want you to know I didn’t know what I was doing.”

A sexy smile flashed at her. “Lia, you may not have done this before, but you definitely knew what you were doing.”

“I did?” she asked, and he heard the hope in her voice.

“You did,” he reassured her. “I just wish you had told me. I would have cherished the gift you gave me. Taken a little more care with you.”

“You took very good care of me,” she purred, feeling wanton. He pulled her close for a tender kiss and nestled her against himself. “Good night.”

She smiled against the bare expanse of his chest, raising her fingers to trace the pendant. “Good night.”

*

Lia woke as the light of dawn crept across the windowsill. She stretched and winced at the soreness in muscles she hadn’t realized she had. Glancing next to her, she smiled at the sight of Talon’s bare shoulder in the early morning light filtering through the window. Remembering the pleasure she’d experienced at his hands, she had to repress a shudder of delight and the urge to reach out and stroke the hot body next to her. Lia decided not to tempt fate and rose from the bed. She pulled a robe from Talon’s old closet and headed to the kitchen in search of food. The robe she’d grabbed nearly swallowed her whole. She tripped on the hem as she started down the stairs and barely caught the rail in time to stop herself from plunging face first to the lower floor.

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Righting herself, she gathered the robe and lifted the hem, moving cautiously towards the kitchen. When she pushed open the swinging door, she discovered Thane and Vardin standing at the counter in deep discussion.

Despite her cautious steps, the two men heard her enter the room and broke off their conversation. They turned to her wearing such expressions of concern the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

“What’s happened?” she asked in alarm.

“Where’s Talon?” Thane asked.

“Asleep. What’s happened?” Thane and Vardin exchanged a speaking glance.

“We should wait for Talon,” Thane told her.

Lia’s temper ignited. She narrowed her eyes at Thane, drew herself up and demanded, “Are you refusing to answer my question, soldier?”

Thane’s expression remained implacable, but Lia sensed his surprise—and his sudden realization that she wasn’t only Talon’s wife, but a powerful woman in her own right, who significantly outranked him.

Vardin gave her a wide—if terrifying—smile of approval.

“My apologies, Damaia,” Thane responded. “We have been notified of a security breach at the palace.”

Lia frowned, not wanting to deal with the realities of life before caffeine, but she had insisted they tell her. “Someone tried to disrupt the preparations for the ceremony?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Thane said quietly. “A bomb detonated in your quarters at the palace.”

Lia shoved her hair out of her eyes with a frustrated hand. “Isn’t it fun being me?”

she asked sarcastically, before stomping to the cabinets in search of coffee. Thane watched her slam cabinets with a wary eye. “The Home Guard is investigating the explosion and the League has offered its assistance with the investigation.”

The door swung open, and Talon strode into the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of loose-fitting pants. He yawned and asked, “What investigation? What are we talking about?”

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He opened a cabinet on the far side of the kitchen and pulled down a coffee-bean grinder and a canister.

“I’d like some, too,” she grumbled.

Her husband grunted what she assumed was his agreement, before repeating, “What investigation?”

“Our quarters in the palace blew up last night,” she told him. Talon dropped the spoon and whirled to face the two men at the counter. To her annoyance, he addressed Thane, snapping, “Report.”

“A neutron bomb detonated almost two hours ago. Preliminary investigation indicates the bomb was placed in your sleeping quarters and set on a timer,” Thane replied, in the same tone he would have used to give a weather report.

“So the bomb might have been there for weeks,” Lia mused, homing in on the abandoned coffee beans.

“No one knew you would be planetside until yesterday. That means someone with access placed the bomb within the last eighteen hours,” Talon replied. “It narrows down the list of suspects.”

“Unless someone aboard the Aegir leaked news of our arrival. If that happened, whoever planted the bomb had weeks to do it,” Lia pointed out, as she began grinding the beans.

Lia knew she should have been upset, but she couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around the crisis, the need for coffee more immediately pressing. She wondered how she had survived all those years in the mines without the wonderful elixir.

“The Aegir was on a communications blackout. Minimum communications were sent, and those that were had to be sent from the bridge. No one but Talon contacted N’yota, and that was only yesterday,” Vardin explained.

“Since that time, the palace has been under heavy security,” Talon added, his eyes narrowed like a predator stalking prey.

“Unfortunately, the list is still in the thousands,” Thane warned.

“How in all the hells did thousands of people enter the palace in such a short time?”

Talon demanded.

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“Preparation for the coronation,” Lia guessed, setting the coffee to percolate.

“Caterers, cleaning services, decorators, protocol officers, priests, priestesses, movers, security personnel for planetary diplomats, the Home Guard, League soldiers—

the list is incredible,” Thane affirmed.

Talon cussed loud and long. Even with her mining background, Lia was impressed with his creativity.

“We have to increase Lia’s security immediately.”

“Already done,” Vardin told him. “There are three units of Home Guard forces stationed around the property.”

Talon crashed his fist down on the counter top. Lia winced in sympathy, surprised he hadn’t broken bones with the force he used. “We’ll have to postpone the coronation.”

“Why?” Lia asked.

“Someone tried to kill you by blowing up the palace,” Talon shouted at her. Lia let his anger roll off her, and secreted pleasure in his obvious worry for her. “So, we have the coronation before they have time to plant another bomb.”

Vardin nodded his agreement. “It would be safer to continue with the coronation before the enemy has time to regroup.”

“Assuming they haven’t concealed another bomb timed for the coronation,” Talon pointed out.

“Bomb sweepers are going through the palace as we speak,” Thane told him. “And neutron bombs are not easy to come by. The likelihood they have more than one is slim.”

“The likelihood they had one is slim,” Talon argued. He turned to glare at his wife.

“Not that I’m not glad to hear you advocate for assuming your position as the Damaia, but I’d like to see you do it safe from these lunatics.”

Lia sighed. “Talon, there will always be these lunatics. Fanatics don’t give up easily. The best thing we can do is not let them stop us from moving forward. As annoying as it sounds, a large ceremony with pomp and circumstance will go far in cementing the idea of the new government. Hopefully, over time, people will benefit from the new ways and will no longer wish to return to the old ones.”

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Talon and Thane both looked at her as though she’d grown two heads. Uncomfortable with their scrutiny, she distracted herself by setting out coffee mugs.

“You seem to have dramatically altered you position on your title,” Thane noted, not even trying to hide his suspicion.

“You didn’t exactly give me a choice,” Lia shot back, letting her irritation show. The infuriating man clearly thought she was acting and would try to escape at the first opportunity. He was a League soldier and a friend of Talon’s—both roles mandated he keep her on the planet. While she might be willing to stay, she still resented the idea of anyone forcing her.

Talon caught her around the waist with an arm, drawing her against his side.

“Regardless, I’m glad you’ve decided to accept your title and responsibilities. If you are sure about going ahead with the ceremony, we’ll do it. Just bear with me. You may be the Damaia, but you are still my wife, and your safety is my responsibility.”

Responsibility. The word echoed in her mind. Somehow, Lia managed a weak smile, but her heart sank. She had finally admitted to herself she loved him—had loved him for as long as she could remember—and his words confirmed her worst fears. He viewed her as an obligation…a responsibility.

She swallowed her tears and busied herself with pouring the coffee, while the men discussed the security arrangements for transporting her to the palace. With effort, she kept from making a sarcastic comment about the onus of “transporting” such a burdensome item.

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Chapter Seventeen

“Absolutely not!”

“You look beautiful,” Ilexa told her.

“I can’t breathe,” Lia snarled.

“If you couldn’t breathe, you wouldn’t be able to speak. And you look like something out of a fairytale.

Lia stared at her reflection in Ilexa’s full-length mirror. In under an hour, Ilexa had turned her from plain-old-Lia into a vision of majestic beauty. The sleeveless, raw silk dress had a stiff bodice that forced Lia’s spine ramrod straight. The floor-length skirt billowed out from her waist in straight lines to the floor and created a four-foot train behind her. The golden material shimmered in the light and lent her skin a luminous glow.

Somehow, Ilexa had tamed her wild hair into a dignified up-sweep, leaving a few tendrils to trail past her shoulders like curling flame. The overall effect was regal, but still feminine.

Lia had never felt more like a fraud in her life. “Do heroines in fairytales collapse in swoons? That’s entirely possible in this dress.”

“And if you swoon, I promise Talon will catch you,” Ilexa teased. Lia snorted. “And give me hell for appearing weak in the role of the Damaia.”

Ilexa laughed. “I bet you can sweet talk him out of his anger.”

“Assuming someone gets me out of this torture device.”

“I’m sure that will be Talon’s first order of business.”

Lia blushed at her sister-in-law’s wiggling eyebrows, memories of the previous night still fresh in her mind. “Just what I need, winding up naked in front of the entire planet.”

“It would certainly make for an unforgettable ceremony,” Ilexa replied, refusing to follow Lia down a negative path. Ilexa stepped back and swept Lia with her gaze. The 182

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intensity radiating from the beautiful woman made Lia feel stripped naked, despite the yards of fabric swarthed around her.

Ilexa’s eyes took on the unfocused look healers used. “Lex?” Lia asked, nervously. Her sister-in-law gave a shake of her head and her eyes focused sharply on Lia. She offered that sultry smile that brought men to their knees. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist seeing your aura surrounding you in that dress. It’s an amazing sight.”

“Thanks, but it is probably just the dress.”

Lex’s beautiful features formed a scowl. “It is not the dress. It’s you. You are a remarkably strong woman. All you have suffered in life, you have survived. That strength is what N’yota needs—what we need. You have to teach us how to survive these unchartered waters we’ve entered.”

Lia shifted, uncomfortable with her sister-in-law’s heartfelt entreaty. Her life might have taught her strength, but it hadn’t taught her comfort with emotion. Trying to dismiss the subject, Lia said, “I doubt your brother will settle for less.”

Ilexa glared at her, giving Lia a glimpse of the blistering temper lurking beneath her beauty. “You will settle for nothing less. I wish you could step out of your skin and see yourself for who you really are.”

“That sounds uncomfortable,” Lia replied.

“Which?” Ilexa asked. “Stepping out of your skin or actually taking an objective look at yourself? Maybe you should start by looking at the loyalty you inspire.”

That surprised Lia. “Loyalty?”

“Vardin is so outraged at the attempts on your life he has called in additional Inderian warriors to guard you. Warriors from his motherland.”

“He did?” Lia asked, feeling a warmth begin in the area around her heart.

“Do you have any idea how stingy Inderians—and Vardin in particular—are with their respect?” Ilexa didn’t wait for a response. “And don’t forget your pirate friends.”

Lia winced. She’d been so caught up with herself, she hadn’t thought to ask after Brisby and his crew, not even to ensure that they had successfully disembarked from the Aegir.

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“As soon as Captain Brisby heard about the bomb at the palace, he started contacting his associates on the black market to track down who purchased a neutron bomb.”

Guilt swamped Lia at Brisby’s efforts. Ilexa couldn’t begin to understand the favors Brisby had called in on her behalf. “They are settling in well on the planet?”

Ilexa rolled her eyes. “They are fine, but you are missing the point. You’ve earned the love and respect of these people—who aren’t known for their concern. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the people who don’t even know you, but believe you can protect them from the war that tore the planet apart. The people who are demonstrating in the streets across the world to protest the attempt on your life.”

“Demonstrating?” Lia’s eyes widened in surprise.

Ilexa stepped forward and grasped Lia’s hands in her own. “When I first saw you, I can’t describe the elation I felt—not just because we’d finally found the Damaia, but because I knew she was strong enough to be what we needed. You are what we need.”

Her sister-in-law’s sincerity nearly overwhelmed Lia. “That’s quite humbling.”

“I’m not blessed with clairvoyance, but I sincerely believe you will find happiness both as the Damaia and Talon’s wife.”

Tears clogged Lia’s throat and she whispered, “I wish I could be as sure as you.”

Ilexa squeezed her hands in sympathy. “Let me ask you something. Were you happy working in the mines? Doing nothing but hard, physical labor with the Guild making all your decisions? Being all alone? Lying about who you are?”

Memories of life on Tmesis flooded her mind. While she had cherished the freedom provided by life in the mines, the years of loneliness and boredom had beaten at her, leaving her battered. Still, she felt a twinge of homesickness for the simple life she’d left behind. A tear leaked from the corner of one eye.

Ilexa dropped her hands and grabbed some tissues, passing one to Lia. “Look at us. A couple of watering cans.”

Lia dabbed carefully at her face, not wanting to disturb the cosmetics Ilexa had applied. “I suppose we should head downstairs.”

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A knock at the door drew their attention.

“No doubt one of my brothers trying to move us along,” Ilexa said. “Come in.”

Teresa entered the bedroom, looking beautiful in a shimmering green dress. She carried a small box in her hands. She stopped and stared at Lia.

“You look beautiful,” Teresa said softly.

“Thank you,” Lia replied.

Teresa set the box on a table next to the mirror. She opened it and withdrew a pair of simple, elegant gold earrings. “My husband gave these to me the night before our wedding and I wore them to the ceremony. I have cherished them ever since. I would be honored if you would wear them today.”

The idea of wearing a family heirloom started Lia’s eyes welling again. “Thank you, Teresa.”

“Mother,” Ilexa scolded good-naturedly. “I just got her to stop crying.”

Lia took the earrings and hooked them in place. They glittered in the light and made the perfect finishing touch to her ensemble.

Lia met her mother-in-law’s gaze in the mirror. “I will draw courage from them today.”

Teresa smiled. “You are welcome to call me Teresa, but should you ever desire to call me mother, I would be delighted.”

Lia’s throat burned. “Thank you. I will.” She couldn’t utter the word “mother”

without dissolving into a puddle.

Teresa sniffled and blinked back tears of her own. “We need to go. The men are waiting.”

Three nearly-in-tears women descended the stairs with their arms linked.

*

Despite her fears, Lia managed to walk the long aisle in the center of the palace’s temple without passing out.

Painfully aware of the hundreds of eyes in the room—and the millions outside the temple—watching her, she kept her gaze fixed on the High Priestess and took careful

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steps towards the altar. From the corner of her eye, she caught glimpses of heads bowing as she passed.

She had been told the front rows would hold planetary and interplanetary dignitaries. Naturally, the two Houses had been seated on opposite sides of the aisle. Reaching the end of the aisle, she caught a glimpse of Lord Constantine to her right. The audacious man winked at her before bowing low. For the first time in years, Lia wondered about the Gemadam donor. She’d never thought of the woman as her mother, but with the introduction to Lord Constantine and her budding relationship with Teresa, she wondered about the woman. She saw the members of the Gemadam House, robed in House colors, and wondered if one of the women was her “mother”. Thrusting aside the disconcerting thoughts, she returned her focus to the altar before her. The High Priestess stood behind the altar’s rail in her formal white robes. She was much younger than the High Priestess who’d served before Lia had left the planet. She also lacked the old biddy’s sour expression.

Talon materialized at her side, helping her kneel at the altar in her heavy skirts. He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and offered her a warm smile before withdrawing. Lia bowed her head and listened as the prayers began.

*

Talon escorted his wife into the ballroom where the formal reception had been set up. His feet ached from the long coronation ceremony. He hadn’t remembered the sheer number of gods in the N’yotan pantheon. A priest or priestess for each deity had offered a prayer over his wife’s head, droning on and on with their solemn, ritualistic words. The boredom had almost made his eyes cross, so he grimly amused himself by studying the attendees and calculating the odds of each one being invested in killing his wife. He didn’t like the results he determined.

Lia had remained perfectly still—a vision kneeling before the altar. He suspected she had fallen asleep and wished to do the same. The blasted ceremony lasted over four hours.

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Now, they had to spend the next several hours making meaningless small talk with self-important people. Standing beside his wife, he watched Lia accept congratulations with grace and deflect prying questions with aplomb. While his chest swelled with pride, he still had to fight the part of him that wanted to grab her and run, to get her away from the crowds and public venue, to secrete her away somewhere safe. Lord Constantine approached and Talon stiffened. Despite the man’s overtures to Lia, the heir to the Lassan line had ample motive to see her killed. Narrowing his eyes on the older man, Talon searched his “father-in-law’s” face for any hint of hatred. Lia’s face lit up when she saw Lord Constantine, and Talon’s gut tightened with fury. The murderous rage he’d felt at the bombing only burned hotter at the thought of the pain Lia would feel at betrayal by a man who tempted her with the hope of family. While the Dhakir family had embraced his wife as one of their own, he knew it was no substitute for blood kin.

Lord Constantine bowed before taking Lia’s hands in his own. “Congratulations on your formal ascension. No one can doubt you were chosen by the gods after witnessing the poise, grace and courage you displayed today.”

A warm bronze stained her cheeks, surprising Talon. The lack of a biting remark from his prickly bride nearly sent him into shock. Remembering her response to his first compliment, comparing her beauty to a sunset, he’d expected her to blast the man.

“Thank you,” she said shyly.

A matching blush tinted Lord Constantine’s cheekbones. “I hope I don’t overstep myself by saying how proud I am of you.”

“You don’t overstep yourself,” Lia said, turning her nervous gaze to her husband. Talon’s heart turned over when he realized she had no idea how to respond to a compliment from her “father”. The soft emotion warred with his fury, but his political acumen thrust the conflicting emotions aside. He tucked his wife’s hand into the crook of his arm. “We appreciate your open approval of the Damaia’s ascension. Hopefully, it will help smooth her transition.”

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Lord Constantine fixed Talon with a look only a man with centuries of breeding for power behind him could manage. “I’ve made it clear to my House the Damaia has my blessing. Anyone who seeks to harm her is not only a traitor to N’yota, but to our line.”

Talon narrowed his eyes at the Lassan heir, but detected no sense of subterfuge. Not for the first time, Talon wished he had something of Ilexa’s ability to sense others. Finally, he gave the older man a hard nod.

Lord Constantine bowed to Lia, preparing to withdraw, when her free hand reached out to touch his arm. “Once we are settled, perhaps you would care to join Talon and me for dinner some night?”

“I’d be delighted,” he replied, before melting into the crowd. A short, matronly woman dressed in a conservative suit nudged her way to Lia’s side. After a moment, Talon placed her as the palace’s protocol officer, Kalia Lystan and the woman who would have spent time with Lia before the ceremony. The woman’s wide smile and friendly expression didn’t match the urgency in her voice. “Damaia, you must speak to a high-ranking member of the Gemadam line, before proceeding to the buffet.”

Talon gritted his teeth. Babying the feelings of the former ruling Houses irritated him to no end, but he recognized he had to let Lia make her own way.

“Why?” Lia asked.

Horror lit Kalia’s eyes. “Because failing to do so would snub the Gemadam House.”

“Lord Constantine approached me to offer his congratulations and well wishes. I will not scramble to placate one House, because a member of the other spoke to me.”

“Damaia, you must consider the political and social ramifications—”

“Madam Lystan,” Lia cut her off coldly. “I have no interest in currying favor with those who seek to maintain the status quo. The two Houses have each given up their claim to rule N’yota. It is time they recognized that.”

“The social structure of our world revolves around—”

“The social structure of our world no longer revolves around the whims of powerhungry aristocrats. I suggest you remember that.”

Biting back a smile, Talon inclined his head politely at the protocol officer and swept Lia away. Lowering his head, he whispered, “Well done.”

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“I need a break,” she whispered back. “Five minutes where I can breathe.”

Talon nodded. He guided her around a column and through a secure door hidden near the buffet, pausing only to ensure her security escort followed to stand guard outside the door.

Lia sank with a loud groan onto a sofa in the small retiring room.

“Pretty dramatic sound from someone who got to kneel through most of the ceremony,” Talon teased.

She shot him an irritated look. “Try spending the day with your lungs constrained. Even kneeling is an effort.”

Talon settled beside her, draping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her against him. He brushed her temple with a kiss, enjoying the easy affection of being with his wife, while anticipating the night ahead. “You’ve done very well today. I’m proud of you.”

Lia snorted. “I keep waiting for someone to come running in screaming ‘fraud’.”

That surprised him. “Why?”

She shrugged and looked away. “Even as a child, I never thought I’d actually be here for this.”

He grimaced at the reminder she didn’t want to be the Damaia. “Planning your escape from the cradle?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t figure I’d live long enough to see it.”

His arm tightened around her reflexively. “They are going to have to go through me to get to you. I swear it,” he repeated.

“They almost took us both out.”

“But they didn’t.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t live together,” she said quietly. Talon shot to his feet, almost knocking her off the couch. “The hell we won’t.”

“Hear me out. I thought about it during the ceremony—”

“I thought you were asleep,” he said snidely.

“I was thinking.”

“Obviously, all the prayers fried your mental circuits.”

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Lia rose gracefully, despite the yards of fabric wrapped around her. “They will keep coming after me. If you die with me, N’yota doesn’t just lose a figurehead, but the first minister.”

He couldn’t believe she was actually suggesting he abandon her for his own safety. His anger simmered and he snapped, “I’m not listening to this. You’re my wife and that’s all there is to it.”

“Talon—” She began.

Irritated, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and hauled her from the room back to the reception where the crowd would stop her from saying anything else so incredibly idiotic and insulting.

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Chapter Eighteen

A month after the ceremony, Lia lay boneless across Talon’s chest, her body damp from exertion and her pulse pounding.

“I think you might have just killed me,” Talon groaned.

“If I did, I’ll definitely mourn you after this.”

Talon’s laughter rumbled against her ear, temporarily drowning out the sound of his heartbeat. A satisfied smirk curved her lips. She liked making him laugh almost as much as she liked making love to him.

The weak light of dawn shone through the windows of the first minister’s residence, illuminating her husband’s face and chest. She shifted, resting her chin on her hands and studied him.

He gave her a slow smile as his hands traced an absent pattern on her back. She sighed and considered the stubborn man who’d wormed his way into her heart. He’d refused to stay anywhere other than in the same bed with her. Selfishly, Lia was glad. She relished the time spent with him and loathed the idea of living apart. Still, she found herself constantly worrying an assassin would err and hit him instead of her. But Talon stubbornly stuck by her side. Depending on her mood, she found that either endearing or remarkably stupid.

To her great surprise, the attack on the palace had outraged the planet’s population, which her husband continued to gloat about. There was nothing the man enjoyed more than saying “I told you so”. People had been so irate the High Priest and Priestess had taken up residence in the first minister’s house, which meant a bomber ran the risk of harming the most revered religious leaders.

She also found herself surrounded by Inderian guards anytime she went out in public. Strangely, she wasn’t intimidated by their presence. Vardin continued to train her in Ngäkau and several of her new guards joined them. Lia didn’t know how long they’d be allowed to stay on N’yota, but she’d miss them when they left. Not only did she

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respect them, but she got a great deal of entertainment out of the reaction people had to their arrival. Hell, Lia barely rated a second glance when people saw the Inderian warriors.

“Remember me?”

Lia blinked, and Talon’s face wavered back into view. “Huh?”

“Where’d you go?”

“Just thinking about things.”

He frowned. “Is your schedule too busy?”

“No,” Lia replied with a frown of her own. “It’s not what I expected to be doing as a diplomat.”

“Enjoy it,” he warned. “The League is giving you time to settle in, but it won’t last. They aren’t very patient.”

Catching the undercurrent in his voice, she rolled off him and sat up, dragging the sheet around her. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“So much for afterglow,” he grumbled, getting out of bed.

“Talon,” she called in warning when he disappeared into the closet. He returned to the bedroom with clothes in his arms. After dumping them on the foot of the bed, he pulled a pair of pants from the pile and stepped into them. “The Energy Guild is complaining to the League about the ‘unfair’ trade practices regarding trynnium.”

“Unfair trade practices?” Lia asked.

“They are claiming because trynnium is exclusive to N’yota our trade agreements violate fair trade laws.”

“They are whining because their profit margins are down. So what?”

“I expect the League Trade Commission will be sending someone to attempt a renegotiation of our trade agreements.”

“And because I’m new to the diplomacy game, they expect to take advantage of me.”

“That’s right.”

“What does the Guild want besides a kickback?”

“How did you know they wanted a kickback?” Talon asked with pride in his eyes. 192

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Though that pride warmed her heart, she rolled her eyes. “Believe me. I know how Guilds work.”

“I suppose you do,” he replied. “I expect the LTC representative will try to get a lower price along with some sort of ‘economic contribution’ to the Guild.”

Offended at the assumption she was an easy mark, she growled, “Let them try it.”

Talon laughed and sat down on the foot of the bed to put his shoes on. “I look forward to seeing you take them on. He leaned across and pressed a quick kiss against her lips. “You need to get moving if you are going to make your Ngäkau session.”

Lia sighed. He was right. She tossed off the covers and dressed in her loose-fitting white clothes. The workout helped clear her mind, and after a shower, she headed to a girls’ school for orphans—more useless public relations. She felt ridiculous walking into a school full of girls under the age of twelve with four armed Inderians. Inderians believed anyone capable of assassination and treated the most routine of events as high-level threats. She had chosen to bring Asha along as a cute, gangly counterpoint to the intimidating Inderians. Unlike the Home Guard, the Inderians never protested Asha’s presence. Not even when she had taken the gimfrey to an arts event at one of the new museums. She still winced when she thought of Talon’s reaction when he heard Asha had knocked an antique vase to the ground, shattering it. Since then, she took care with which events she allowed Asha to attend.

A girl’s school seemed like a safe choice, but Lia found herself reevaluating her decision when a young girl, no more than eight years old, broke from the group assembled to welcome the Damaia. She ran towards Lia, no doubt fascinated by the gimfrey, but was immediately intercepted by Syval, one of her fiercest guards.

“You will not approach the Damaia,” he growled. “Hand over what you are holding behind your back.”

The remaining guards surrounded Lia while soldiers positioned themselves on the stairs leading into the school, clearly prepared to open fire on the girls standing on the front lawn. A frantic teacher tried to run to the child facing the Inderian, but was restrained by a soldier.

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Standing on her tiptoes to see through the wall her guards formed, Lia noted the child showed no fear, despite staring down an irate Inderian.

“It’s not for the Damaia,” she said, revealing the rose she’d secreted behind her back.

“It’s for you.”

It took every ounce of discipline Lia had not to laugh at the stunned expression on Syval’s face.

“Me?” he growled.

The little girl nodded. “You had to leave your home and come live with strangers, just to protect the Damaia so no other little girl’s parents get killed because they are aligned with one of the Houses.”

Lia’s heart turned over at the innocent revelation.

Syval shifted uncomfortably and the guards began to relax. Finally, Syval managed to say “Thank you” and resumed his position at Lia’s side. The child skipped back to her place in line while Syval fumbled with the flower, clearly uncertain what to do with it.

Knowing his training required him to keep his hands free, Lia couldn’t resist teasing.

“You could always tuck it behind your ear.”

The look Syval shot her nearly singed the skin from her body. The little girl’s gut-wrenching sincerity haunted Lia through the rest of the day. By the end of the visit, she was exhausted from the weight of both her guilt and N’yotan expectations.

She entered the bedroom she shared with Talon and pitched face first onto the bed, longing for the simple existence she’d known in the mines.

“Tough day?” Talon asked, startling her. She hadn’t realized he was there.

“Very,” she replied, the covers muffling her response. She felt the bed dip when Talon sat down next to her. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Saille School for Girls.”

Talon’s hand dropped onto her shoulder, a warm, comforting weight. “There are schools like that all over the world for both boys and girls.”

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The grief she heard in her husband’s voice was almost enough to start her crying. “I was always told about the violence and death they created me to stop, but they never showed me any of it.”

“Maybe you can use your position to draw attention to these lost children. Find some of them homes.”

“How?” she asked, the hopelessness of the school still pressing on her.

“We’ll think on the best way to do it. Simply by visiting the school, you’ve drawn more attention to the children’s plight than they’ve ever received.”

That simple fact nearly broke her heart. Changing the subject, she asked, “How was your day?”

“Tedious,” he replied. “I spent the day in budget management meetings. I’m glad tonight’s just a quiet family dinner. If I had to deal with a formal state event, I might snap.”

Lia groaned loudly into the mattress. She’d avoided telling him as long as possible.

“I invited Lord Constantine to join us for dinner tonight.”

She knew when Talon stood by the angry bounce of the bed. He wasn’t pleased. She hadn’t expected him to be.

“Lia, we agreed to only allow those we trust into the residence,” he thundered.

“That’s the only reason we minimized security within the house.”

Sighing, she pushed herself up from the bed. Apparently it didn’t take a state event to make Talon snap. She did it all by herself.

“I’d like to get to know him,” she said reasonably. “I can’t do that at public appearances.”

Talon began pacing. “Have you considered he might be behind the bombing of the palace? It took a lot of money and connections to obtain a neutron bomb. And you invited him to a private dinner with limited security?”

“Is there any evidence Lord Constantine is involved? Any link from him to the bombing?” Though she thought of him as Constantine and addressed him as such, she couldn’t seem to refer to him without his title.

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“No,” Talon admitted angrily. “But the bomb came from a Home Guard installation. The base is one of our most secure with top-grade surveillance. No one could just walk out with a neutron bomb. Someone had connections and access.”

“When did you learn this? And when were you going to tell me?” she demanded, suddenly angry herself.

Talon had the good grace to flush. “The investigation is ongoing.”

She wasn’t about to let him get away with that. “What else has the ‘investigation’

uncovered?”

“No one can pin down exactly when the neutron bomb was stolen. Someone tampered with the security feeds, putting them on a loop. That might have happened weeks or months ago. The last visual inventory was taken seven months back, and that’s the last time the bomb can be accounted for,” Talon said, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.

“So the odds are whoever took the bomb knew I was returning now,” Lia concluded.

“I love that mind of yours,” he replied, clearly impressed with her reasoning. “We are taking a closer look to see if there were any breaches in the secrecy regarding the search for you. When we headed in the vicinity of Tmesis, we only had a faint buzz from the probe we sent to locate your transmitter. It just as easily could have been interference in the transmission.”

“That means whoever took the bomb knew you might find me when you left.”

“That’s likely.”

“I want you to keep me informed as the investigation progresses,” she said quietly. He nodded. Taking in the lines of concern etching his face, Lia decided to let the subject go. They couldn’t solve the mystery tonight.

“We still have the problem of Lord Constantine,” he pointed out.

“He’s coming alone and will no doubt undergo a cavity search before Vardin lets him in,” she replied in a tone dry enough to chafe.

When they descended the stairs for the meal, Lia was surprised to realize she was nervous. Perhaps even more than when she’d given the two speeches broadcast live across the entire planet.

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But she needn’t have worried. The crush of people around the table, unimpeded by the strictures of formal etiquette, laughed and debated at incredible decibel levels. Lia’s head swam as she tried to follow the conversations.

Teresa and Ilexa had chosen seats next to one another and across from Thane. Or perhaps Thane had chosen the seat across from them. She couldn’t remember.

“I hear you will be leaving us soon,” Teresa said to Thane.

“My service time to the League expires soon,” he replied. “It is time for me to return to my homeworld and assume my responsibilities there.”

“Wow. I didn’t know you were capable of stringing that many words together at one time,” Ilexa interjected snidely. She jumped and shot her mother a look, telling Lia Teresa had kicked her under the table.

“Forgive my daughter,” Teresa said. “I taught her better manners.”

Irritation crossed Ilexa’s face, but Lia missed Thane’s response when Talon tensed like a bowstring at her side. She followed his gaze and wanted to laugh at the sight of Captain Brisby leaning around Malachi to address Lord Constantine.

“So, you fathered our little Lia,” Brisby accused, staring unblinkingly with his bug eyes at Lord Constantine.

Lord Constantine appeared a bit ill. No doubt shocked someone would broach such a subject in his presence. Lia doubted her existence was considered appropriate conversation around the Lassan dinner table, much less any reference to who contributed DNA.

“I did,” he managed, taking a sip of wine in a blatant attempt to hide his discomfort.

“Who’s her mother?” Brisby demanded.

Lord Constantine choked on the wine.

Lia took pity on the man. “The woman who contributed the ovum for my conception is a member of the Gemadam House. The two Houses have almost no contact.”

Brisby snorted and turned back to Lord Constantine. “You saying you ain’t never met our girl’s mother?”

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“I have not,” Lord Constantine replied. “I can count on one hand the number of times I have been in the same room with a member of the Gemadam House. I assure you, those meetings were brief.”

“Damn, girl,” Brisby said incredulously to Lia. “You want me to take you outta here? I always said you’d make a damn fine pirate.”

Lord Constantine dropped his fork with a clatter. “I beg your pardon!”

“She’d be a damned fine pirate,” Brisby repeated proudly.

“I’m having a new show,” Mal announced, sitting forward to block the two men from each other’s sight.

Lia bit the inside of her cheek at Mal’s not-so-subtle change of subject. “When?”

“In three months. It’s a new series of mine on rebirth.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” she said, fondly.

Mal winked at her, before turning back to Lord Constantine, while Tristan effectively distracted Brisby.

Sitting at the table, Lia felt a sense of contentment she’d never known. For the first time, she let the feeling of belonging wash over her and enjoyed the satisfaction of family.

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Liz Craven

Chapter Nineteen

Lia smiled when she descended the stairs for her first appearance of the day and saw Caden standing in place of one of her Inderian guards. The young man looked like a child dwarfed by the other guards. Still, the League soldier stood proud in his uniform, not looking at all intimidated.

“Caden,” she greeted him warmly. “How are you? I thought you were reassigned.”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “I was supposed to leave this morning, but Syval got a case of food poisoning, and the League sent me to fill in.”

“I thought the Inderian government sent my guard, not the League.”

“They did,” Vardin volunteered. “However, the League offered Caden as a courtesy replacement until Syval is back on his feet.”

Caden bristled at being referred to as a “courtesy replacement”, but refrained from saying anything aloud. Still, Lia gave him points for having the courage to show his displeasure in the presence of the Inderians. Though she’d lost her fear of the fierce warriors, she recognized how terrifying they were.

“I’m glad to see you again,” Lia told him, practicing her diplomacy. Specifically, how not to laugh at a young man’s show of pride.

Caden turned his attention back to her, and his face relaxed into its customary grin.

“I just got my orders this morning. What’s the schedule for today?”

“This morning, we’re going to the palace,” Lia informed him.

“Why? They’ve barely gotten the mess cleaned up from the explosion.”

“I’m meeting with the architect and a designer. They’ve decided to let Talon and I have some say in what will be our home,” Lia explained and began walking towards the door.

The Inderians fell into step with seamless precision. Appearing flustered, Caden scrambled to join them. “The first minister will be accompanying us?” he asked, sounding alarmed.

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A pang of sympathy thrummed through her. Caden’s service aboard the Aegir had failed to impress Talon, and Lia doubted he’d filled his report on the young man with acclaim and recommendations. No doubt, Caden dreaded encountering her husband.

“No.” Lia kept her voice neutral, not wanting to embarrass him. “Talon got called into the legislative session to address a dispute over education policy.”

“Oh,” Caden replied, striving to look casual.

Lia exchanged a knowing look with Vardin as they moved outside to the waiting transport.

The ride to the Prophecy Palace took mere seconds. It took longer to load everyone into the vehicle than to travel the two blocks. Lia swallowed her complaints with effort. She would have enjoyed walking in the warm, morning sun, but her security detail had adamantly refused.

As she stepped from the vehicle, Lia paused to look at the palace. The large edifice towered above her, its graceful spires stretching into the sky. Built out of changara stone, the building glistened a golden yellow in the sunlight. Even the boards that hid the gaping, black hole where the bomb detonated didn’t curb Lia’s awe at the building’s beauty.

A growl from Vardin got her moving again. Gods forbid she stand on the street and look at her soon-to-be home. She swallowed the sarcastic comment that rose to her lips. The last thing she wanted was another lecture from Vardin on the accuracy of snipers—

and the subsequent rant on their cowardice.

Once inside the walled plaza that led to the palace entrance, a young woman, not much older than Lia, approached them. She moved with a stiff gate, and Lia wondered if the woman’s discomfort related to meeting the Damaia or the security screening she’d been put through.

Though striking in appearance, the woman would never be considered pretty. Her eyes were a little too close together and her nose a little too large. Still, her self-assured manner and stylish dress gave her a unique attractiveness. 200

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The woman halted before Lia and inclined her head with respect. “Damaia, my name is Kavana. I’ve been engaged to decorate your private, living quarters. I’m honored to work for you. Will the first minister be along soon?”

“No, Talon is tied up today and has left all decisions to me.” Despite the woman’s stiff manner, Lia found herself liking the decorator. Kavana was no sycophant seeking to ingratiate herself by currying favor.

The corners of Kavana’s lips twitched as if she were trying not to smile. “No doubt, like most men, he was devastated at missing out on a day of discussing fabrics and colors.”

Lia smiled, remembering Talon’s barely suppressed glee at escaping the palace tour.

“I’m afraid you are going to have your work cut out for you with the disaster this place is.”

“The damage will not cause me much difficulty. Miccar’s the one with the work cut out for him.”

“Miccar?” Lia asked.

Kavana turned and fixed a pointed look at a tall, frazzled man hurrying towards them. Almost cadaverously thin, he had a long face with pinched brown eyes and no discernable bottom lip.

He stumbled to a halt and conked his head against Kavana when he bowed. Jerking upright, he addressed the top of Lia’s head. “Damaia, I am Miccar Vanter, the architect hired to repair your private rooms.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” she replied.

He nodded vigorously as though he were agreeing with someone only he heard.

“Follow me, and I’ll show you what we’ve done so far.”

Without waiting for a response, Miccar spun on a heel, teetered a moment, and strode towards the ornate doors of the palace. After shooting a questioning look at Vardin, she followed Miccar at a more relaxed pace.

They wound their way through the lower level of the palace, stopping to wait when Miccar disappeared. It took a surprising amount of time for the man to realize he’d lost

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the group each time he vanished. Caden and the Inderians became annoyed, but Kavana and Lia found the architect’s manner amusing.

While waiting for Miccar, the fourth time, Lia touched Vardin on the arm to gain his attention. “What happened to the cadre of soldiers that travel with us?”

“The palace guard has been assigned your security for the morning. Additional soldiers would be in the way and confuse the chain of command.”

Lia nodded and Miccar popped back around a corner, ending the conversation.

“This way,” he called and darted off again.

Picking up the pace, she was surprised to find he led them out the back of the palace into another walled courtyard.

“I thought we were here to see our suites,” Lia said, edging closer to Vardin.

“Yes, yes,” Miccar replied, nodding with a fervor. “But first your husband wanted you to see this.”

He pointed across the courtyard and Lia approached several strange looking devices with caution. When she drew closer, she discovered her glass working pipes leaning in the corner. Next to them gleamed an identical set in high quality metals, tied with a bow. Vardin joined her in front of the large bricked device. “A gift from your husband. When you move in, he will have the engineer who designed the setup explain how the furnaces and other devices work.”

“I didn’t realize what this was at first,” she admitted. Vardin nodded. “You will not find xyreon exhaust on N’yota.”

“Thank the Powers,” Lia muttered.

Kavana approached them, and Lia saw Vardin tense. The decorator stopped a respectful distance away, though Lia felt it had more to do with fear of Vardin than any actual respect for the Damaia. The woman gestured towards a far wall. “Future plans for the palace include a gimfrey habitat on the other side of that wall.”

Lia couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across her face. Talon might have ditched the trip to plan the décor, but he was still making sure the place had everything she might want.

“Come. Come.” Miccar bounced. “We must see the private apartments.”

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Vardin snatched the ping-ponging man up by the front of his shirt. Miccar paled and stared at the Inderian, hanging as still as death.

Concerned, Lia started forward, but Caden stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She couldn’t hear what Vardin said, but when he released Miccar, the man moved towards the door on slow, shaking steps.

Walking to the apartments, Miccar actually took time to explain the palace design and materials. Every region of the planet had contributed to the construction. The stairs they climbed were laid with marble from the Prophetess’s township. Glass windows came from the lone continent in the Southern Hemisphere. By the time they reached the apartments, Lia had seen construction materials from all corners of the world. Miccar paused at a simple wooden door. Once he had begun lecturing, his spastic manner had vanished, and he’d glowed with pride. “This is the entrance to your suites, Damaia. The High Priest and Priestess finished blessing them only yesterday.”

Vardin stiffened at Lia’s elbow. “The rooms have been blessed?” he asked. Though his tone remained neutral, Lia sensed his alarm.

“Yes,” Miccar answered, blinking rapidly with renewed nervousness.

“Damaia, we cannot cross the threshold of these rooms,” Vardin told her. “Our religious beliefs prohibit entering sanctified areas with a married woman unless her husband is present.”

“Talon is tied up all day,” Lia protested. “And it will take weeks to schedule another time for me to do this.”

“But, we have work crews scheduled to start in three days,” Miccar sputtered. “They have all passed your rigorous security screenings. We can’t risk them taking other jobs.”

Lia tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Can you enter without me?”

“Damaia, you cannot let Inderians decide your architecture,” Miccar gasped, then paled in fear of insulting the warriors.

Vardin ignored him. “We can enter as long as no married woman is in the room or enters it while we are there.”

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“Why don’t you do a security sweep? Once you declare the rooms safe, Caden, Kavana, Miccar and I can go in and work. If necessary, we can pull some Home Guard soldiers from their posts to assist.

“We can’t pull the guards,” Caden interjected. “They haven’t been screened for personal security detail.”

“Is there another entrance to the apartments?” Vardin asked.

“The emergency exit has been bricked up since the explosion. For now, this is the only way in,” Miccar explained.

Vardin fixed Miccar with an unblinking stare, causing the skinny man to visibly tremble. Lia refrained from telling him the expression meant Vardin was considering her request. She didn’t want to offend the warrior by letting him think he was easy to read.

“Very well,” Vardin agreed, though Lia sensed he didn’t like the idea. “Eglar and Rykkan will sweep the apartments thoroughly and report.”

At his words, the two Inderians saluted and entered the suite. Miccar paced the small hallway with a contagious, nervous energy that had Kavana drumming her nails against the door. Lia slouched against the wall and watched Vardin lecture Caden on safety protocols.

Finally, Eglar and Rykkan reappeared. They inclined their heads in unison to Vardin.

“Very well,” Vardin said, not attempting to hide his reluctance. He addressed the group as a whole. “The Damaia will enter the apartments with Miccar and Caden. They will return. Then, Eglar and Rykkan will do another sweep.” He fixed his red eyes on Lia.

“Damaia, you will complete the tour as expeditiously as possible. Debates can occur over holographic reproductions. Regardless, you will return in twenty minutes to check in. Do you agree?”

Somehow, she managed not to roll her eyes at Vardin’s paranoia. “I agree.”

“What about the interior design?” Kavana asked. The woman kept her tone polite and professional.

Vardin’s sneered. “Colors and fabrics can be done with the models.”

Kavana nodded and stepped aside.

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Vardin fixed Caden with a look that caused the young soldier to blanch. Lia was impressed. She would have expected him to soil himself. Caden had grown since she’d met him.

Miccar darted into the apartments as though afraid Vardin would change his mind—

or decide to snack on him. Not that the skinny man would provide much of a meal. Lia moved to follow Miccar, but Caden caught her arm.

“I go first,” he warned, before preceding her through the door. The acrid smell of smoke hit Lia when she stepped across the threshold. She coughed and saw Caden blinking furiously. “I thought these rooms were cleaned.”

Miccar bobbed his head at her while his eyes swept the room. “Yes. Yes. But we have been anticipating your visit. Security has not allowed us to air them out well.”

Lia looked around a room four times the size of the quarters she’d shared with Talon aboard the Aegir. Someone had set up artificial lighting that illuminated the empty room and displayed the scorch marks on the walls.

“I expected the walls to have holes in them,” Lia commented, her gaze riveted to the evidence of the explosion.

“The bomb was set in your bedroom. This room is the farthest point from the blast site,” Miccar explained. “It suffered the least damage.”

Caden’s eyes swept the destruction. “Given the limited time frame we have, I suggest we do a walk-through beginning with the bedroom and working our way back to the door.”

“Yes. Yes,” Miccar chirped. “Follow me.”

Lia shook her head as the man took off like a shot, before loping after him. They finally reached a cavernous room she assumed was the bedroom. Boards covered one entire wall, but only grooves in the floor and the occasional standing beam marked the other “walls”.

“The windows were here.” Miccar stood facing the boarded, curved wall, his arms spread wide. The stance reminded Lia of a religious pilgrim before a sacred altar. “The views encompassed the capital city and government buildings, circling around to the Bahari Ocean.”

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“The view sounds lovely. I’d love to have as many windows as possible. Floor to ceiling if possible,” Lia told him. “But, does the room have to be this…big?”

Miccar spun to face her, hand flying to his chest to clutch his heart. “Damaia, without the size, we could not incorporate all the architectural features we planned.”

“Do we need all these ‘features’?” Lia asked.

“Yes. Yes,” Miccar assured her. This time, his whole body bobbed up and down.

“For example, an archway here will divide the room—”

A blast of light cut off Miccar’s explanation, and he crumpled to the floor. Stunned, it took a second for Lia to process that the man had been shot. Realizing she had lost precious moments, she whirled around to find Caden pointing a blaster at her. 206

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Chapter Twenty

The familiar burn of betrayal coursed through her veins. She hadn’t realized how much she had begun to trust until the pain rose up to choke her.

“There was no need to kill Miccar,” she managed, pleased she sounded calm and cool rather than terrified.

Caden’s icy stare didn’t as much as flicker. Gone was the youth with whom she’d traveled. A hardened man stood before her.

Pointing a blaster at her.

“Miccar should survive,” he said. “That was the lowest setting.”

“You have no familial or political affiliation with either House. Otherwise, you never would have been assigned to my search party or security detail.” Lia stalled, desperately trying to find a way out of the situation. She could scream, but she’d be dead before Vardin and his men reached her. The rooms had been completely emptied. There was nothing she could use as a weapon, nothing to hide behind. He sneered at her. “I’m not doing this for something as trivial as personal power.”

“Then why?” she asked quietly.

“You are an abomination,” he growled. “A perversion of the Prophecy given to us by the gods.”

Lia blinked, that was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Hell, hadn’t that been her argument all along? “You are going to kill me, because I was born? I had no control over that.”

“It doesn’t matter. Your very existence desecrates the sanctity of the Prophecy.”

“You can’t truly believe that. If you did, you wouldn’t have saved my life on DeKalb Station. You rescued me from the assassins,” she reminded him. He shook his head. “No, that was a decoy. By saving you, I would divert future suspicion from myself, in case it became necessary to take riskier measures in carrying out my sacred duty.”

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“If you kill me, you’ll never make it out of here,” she pointed out, praying selfpreservation would outweigh his religious fervor. “You took too many precautions to willingly throw your life away.”

He tensed, but only slightly. “We’ve run out of options. We hoped to end your life painlessly—as you said, you had no control over your birth—and with minimal collateral damage. Unfortunately, we have been unable to do that. My sacrifice is necessary to preserve the words of the Prophetess.”

Lia’s thoughts raced as she turned the Prophecy over in her mind. “The Prophecy called for the Damaia to be born of the direct descendants of the living House lords of her time. Those descendants have been sterilized. If you kill me it will be impossible for the Prophecy to be fulfilled.”

“The Prophecy is infallible. Once you are removed, it will unfold as originally intended,” Caden explained with complete confidence and an unshakable belief she found more terrifying than anything else he’d said.

“How many people have been planning my death?” she asked.

“We are a small, but growing movement, dedicated to the Prophetess and N’yota.”

Lovely. A movement. People were actually recruiting others to support her murder. She briefly wondered about their recruitment slogan with a strange detachment until a new concern caused her heart to race. “What about Talon? Are you going after him too?”

Caden’s eyebrows shot up at her question. “No. The first minister has earned his place on our world. His connection to the False Damaia will be severed at your death, and his leadership will be needed to help steer the planet until the true Damaia is born.”

“I take it Syval’s illness isn’t a lucky coincidence.”

“No lasting harm done,” Caden assured her. “We are not seeking to cause anyone harm or hurt N’yota. We simply refuse to allow the Prophecy to be blasphemed.”

His logic astounded her. While “they” refused to “harm” anyone, killing her was acceptable, even warranted. Caden had a different definition of the word “harm” than she did.

“I regret this is necessary, but I promise it will be painless.”

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Caden shifted his balance and time crawled almost to a standstill. She saw his finger tighten on the trigger and a tidal wave of emotion rocked her. Hurt, sadness, regret and grief. But rage swam to the top, only to be eclipsed by a blinding flash of hatred. Not for Caden, but for Talon.

There was a time she had been resigned to the inevitable assassination she knew would come, but that was before Talon made her care. And she did care. About the people of her world, about their nascent peace and about their future. Talon had taught her to hope. To want to make a difference on their world. Worst of all, the damned man had made her fall in love with him. She’d gone all starry-eyed over him, imagining a future filled with laughter, children, and heaven help her, even grandchildren.

She wanted to scream. To rage against fate for tempting her with a happily-ever-after and snatching it away, but she couldn’t seem to move, her gaze fixed on Caden’s whitening knuckle as he calmly pulled the trigger.

So focused on what she was losing, Lia barely registered the flash of red light that surrounded Caden. She couldn’t miss the heavy weight that crashed into her like a small asteroid.

She hit the ground with jarring force and breathing easily became a fond memory when the hard body followed her down and covered her completely. Several heartbeats later, she realized the sound roaring in her ears was shouting. It took several heartbeats more for her mind to process the fact she’d been saved. Her mind couldn’t comprehend the voices buzzing around her, but the need for oxygen had her shoving at the body above her.

The body hesitated before giving into her shoves and lifting up. When it did, she found herself staring into the furious visage of her husband. Murder shone clearly on his face, and his eyes glittered with silver wrath.

After a moment, he turned his full attention to her. When his head turned, she glanced past him to see what had held him riveted and discovered Caden’s body lying a few feet from her, his sightless eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.

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Talon shook her, and she finally felt his fingers biting into her shoulders. She tore her gaze away from the body and looked at the man shaking her. The buzzing slowly resolved itself into words. “—alright? Are you injured?”

“I’m fine,” she managed, but her eyes shifted back to the body of their own accord. Vardin stepped into her field of vision and spat on Caden’s corpse. Talon still held her shoulders in a death grip, when he turned his anger on Vardin.

“You shouldn’t have killed him,” Talon roared.

Vardin didn’t appear impressed by Talon’s fury. “The dishonorable do not deserve to live.”

“We can’t question the dead,” Talon snarled. “And we can’t make them suffer.”

“Miccar,” Lia cut in. Her mind slowly beginning to function. “Caden shot him.”

Eglar knelt beside her. “The paramedics are en route. He is not dead, but suffered a severe stunning. There may be complications.”

“I want a military airlift to take the Damaia to the nearest Health Center,” Talon barked.

The presence of the Home Guard soldiers moving around the apartments had escaped her notice until one of them saluted Talon and moved to carry out his orders. Lia pulled herself free from her husband’s grip and struggled to her feet. “I don’t need a Health Center.”

Unlike Lia, Talon rose gracefully to his feet, earning him a glare on principal. “You are going to the Health Center.”

Lia considered arguing, but decided she didn’t have the energy. “I’ll see Lex.”

Talon gave her a hard look, but keyed in a message on his personal com. She felt herself begin to tremble. Desperately seeking a diversion, she asked, “What happened to the legislative dispute?”

“I decided the dispute could wait a day. Setting up the home we will spend the rest of our lives in took priority.”

“Your mother yelled at you,” she guessed.

“No. Lex did.”

*

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Talon sat on the edge of the Health Center bed, clearly trying to rein in his anger. The doctor fussed about the room. While the man had appeared nervous about treating the Damaia, the appearance of a high-level healer had truly sent him over the edge. Ignoring the doctor's near-hysteria, Ilexa behaved as the quintessential professional. Both had assured her husband “the Damaia was uninjured”. For his part, Talon wanted to see her encased in cotton wrap and stashed away from all harm.

“Can we go now?” Lia asked, impatiently.

“Soon,” he responded with a noncommittal air.

Ilexa rolled her eyes. “Big Brother wants to keep you here until you are both old and grey.”

Lia shot him a suspicious look. “Talon, I want to go home.”

“Soon,” he repeated.

“Talon, she’s fine,” Ilexa stated. “As a healer, I am obligated to release her.”

“No, you’re not,” Talon informed her.

“Talon—” Ilexa snarled, the stubborn expression on her beautiful face an odd replica of his.

“Enough,” Lia shouted, drawing their attention. “I’m leaving.”

She started to sit up, and before she could blink, he’d planted his palm in the center of her chest to keep her supine.

Lia shoved his hand off her chest. “Talon, enough.”

She struggled to a sitting position—mainly because his weight on the bed had pulled the covers tight against her. Propping her pillow behind her, she announced, “I’d like a word with my husband alone.”

To her annoyance, Vardin looked to Talon for approval before gesturing for the room to clear. Ilexa paused at the door to wink at her, before scooting out. Vardin closed the door quietly behind them. Lia turned back to Talon and found him with a blaster resting across his lap.

“I need one of those,” she decided.

“Yes, you do. Do you know how to shoot?” At her head shake, he frowned. “You’ll start learning tomorrow.”

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She smiled at him. “Thank you. And thank you for saving me from Caden.”

His frowned deepened to a scowl. “I’m sorry. I should never have allowed—”

She cut him off by pressing the tips of two fingers against his lips. “You did everything possible to see to my safety. Caden played his roll well.”

“I should have seen—”

She cut him off with an emphatic slash of her hand. “There wasn’t anything to see.”

The look on his face said as clearly as words that he didn’t believe her. She sighed. “You’ve never been betrayed before have you?”

He paused as though realizing something profound. It was enough for Lia to know he’d never suffered the soul-shattering agony of betrayal. The biting sense of loss. The near-physical pain of learning your world wasn’t as you perceived it. The bleeding scratches left behind by the cold fingers of denial. Scrabbling to gain purchase while wondering who else you shouldn’t trust. She couldn’t even remember her first betrayal, but could imagine how the novelty must amplify the emotional pain Talon was suffering. He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts rather than in denial. “That’s still no excuse—”

“It’s not an excuse. It’s a fact. I’ve been betrayed more times than I can count in myriad different ways. I never once suspected Caden. What’s more, he’s a religious fanatic. They will be far harder to detect than someone with a political or blood tie to one of the Houses.”

Talon’s expression grew more ominous. She’d already recounted Caden’s words and actions on the way to the Health Center. Still, he placed a gentle kiss against her fingers.

“We’ll find who’s behind this, I swear.”

“Well, life with me will never be dull,” she said with a wry smile.

“That it won’t,” he agreed.

“I’d like to go home now,” she told him, putting a quiet plea into her voice.

“No, you need to stay.”

“Why?”

“They need to check you out, make sure you’re not hurt.”

She smiled gently and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “They’ve already done that.”

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He shook his head. “They need to be sure. They need to check everything.”

“They have checked everything. I’m fine. Caden didn’t hurt me.”

“But he could have,” Talon exploded.

“But he didn’t. Should I lie here in this bed denying other patients medical treatment because Caden might have hurt me if you hadn’t arrived?”

It was his turn to sigh. He took her hands and dropped his forehead against hers. “I never realized what a selfish bastard I was until now. I want to regret finding you and putting your life at risk by bringing you home, but I’m not sure I’d leave you on Tmesis if I had it to do over again. I can’t imagine living my life without you.”

Lia sat in stunned silence at his words as he lifted his head to brush his lips against her forehead. Before she gathered her wits, he used the communicator to order her guards back. She sat on the bed with a stupid grin on her face while her guards planned to transport her home.

*

Talon wanted to sequester Lia away and savor the sound of her heartbeat, but they entered a circus when they returned to the first minister’s residence. His mother swooped down and immediately bustled Lia off, leaving him to face his furious—and loud—

brothers with their annoying need to help, and their inability to remain in close quarters without escalating to a quarrel or outright scuffle. Ilexa arrived as Talon shoved himself between an irate Bastian and belligerent Dante. Huffing in outrage, Ilexa stamped her foot. “Someone just tried to kill Lia—

again—and you are fighting with each other! Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

To Talon’s amusement, Ilexa dropped into a chair and showed no intention of leaving. After shooting their baby sister sheepish looks, Bastian and Dante moved to opposite corners of the room.

Looking mildly amused, Mal finally spoke. “Does anyone have any ideas about protecting our sister-in-law?”

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Talon watched his brothers shift from bristling siblings to concerned warriors. He raked his hands through his hair and tried to force his mind away from his wife and onto her protection. “The best security would be to have off-worlders.”

Mal frowned. “The political machinations of the League would affect the quality of any guard they provide, plus their price would be exorbitant.”

“Not League soldiers. An off-world equivalent of the Home Guard,” Talon clarified.

“The Inderians have been doing a good job. Can we get them to take this on for the long-term?” Tristan asked.

“They have agreed to temporary guard duty based on Vardin’s respect of Lia. To offer payment for continued services would insult their sense of honor,” Talon replied, thwarted. Keeping Inderians on Lia’s detail was his primary goal.

“Honor Vardin’s tribe,” Bastian suggested. “If you give the impression that you view one tribe as having superior warriors, the sting will have the other tribes supplying you with their warriors for the next several years, if not decades.”

Talon narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his only irresponsible brother. Normally he would dismiss Bastian out of hand, but to protect his wife, he was willing to consider any options provided. Still, his tone came out harsh when he asked, “What are you talking about?”

Bastian slouched in the chair, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles.

“Paying them would be an insult, but N’yota could send a shipment of trynnium to Inderia to honor the warriors of Vardin’s tribe for their bravery in protecting the Damaia. The other tribes will be jealous and fear we believe them to be less capable than Vardin’s tribe. Likely, they will hold tournaments to determine who will have the honor of defending the Damaia next—until all tribes have taken a turn as her guard.”

Talon contemplated his suggestion. “I’ll run the idea by Vardin.”

“Don’t do that,” Bastian warned, sitting up straight. “He’ll take offense. What’s more, telling Inderians they are easily manipulated would cause tension between our worlds.”

Talon frowned, considering.

“It’s the best plan we’ve got,” Ilexa pointed out.

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“It’s the only plan we’ve got,” Tristan said wryly.

Even after agreeing to Bastian’s plan, it took four hours to eject his family from the house. Despite the fact it was only late afternoon, Talon and Lia ate a silent dinner and retired for the night. Talon curled his body around hers, and pulled her back snug against his front.

“We’ll find these fanatics. You will be safe,” he promised her.

“Even if we found all those people and convinced them I deserve to live, it won’t make me safe. There will always be someone or some group that hates me.” The sadness in her tone tugged at his heartstrings.

Dammit. Now he had heartstrings. Still, she was right.

“Maybe you should consider abdicating,” he heard himself say. The shock that assaulted him with those words had nothing to do with his suggestion and everything to do with the fact he meant it, relished it even. His arrogance in believing he could protect her had almost gotten her killed.

“What?” Lia turned to face him, her mouth falling open in shock.

“We can leave the planet. I’ll resign. We can start a life elsewhere. Maybe we’ll go with Thane to the Central Alliance,” he mused, warming to the idea of a life where Lia was safe from assassins. It sounded like bliss, like nirvana. Lia continued to stare at him as if he’d grown two heads. Her eyes began to glow with blue flame.

“Now?” she shouted. “Now you tell me I can abdicate? That there’s a way for me to forsake the role of Damaia and live my own life elsewhere? Damn you, Talon.”

He blinked in surprise at the virago before him. “I thought this would please you.”

He hadn’t exactly. He hadn’t thought about it at all before he said it, but it should have made her happy.

“If you’d offered this to me on Tmesis, I’d have jumped at it. But you didn’t. You didn’t even offer it to me when we arrived. You waited until now. Now, when I’ve seen N’yota. Started meeting her people. Started caring about her and wanting to make a difference. Hells, I’m even beginning to believe in the thrice-damned Prophecy,” she

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took a deep shuddering breath. “I’m the only one who can bring these people peace. I was born to do it.”

“I want you to be safe,” he said, not disguising the desperate plea.

“Even if we left, I wouldn’t be safe. I would remain a threat to whomever took over leadership and an abomination to the zealots. Here I have security.”

“That’s true for all who govern,” he pointed out. “Even I have a security detail. Assassination attempts are extremely rare for leaders on most League worlds, and I promise we’ll make you as safe as that.”

“I’d like that.”

“I never again want to see you staring down a lunatic with a blaster,” he growled.

“I never want you to see that either,” Lia’s laugh gave way to a yawn.

“I’m glad you can laugh about it.”

“I was so mad at you today,” she murmured sleepily. “I hated you for making me care about N’yota and plan a future with you.”

“You were?” he asked softly, pleased with her admission, but unwilling to disturb her descent into much needed sleep.

“I certainly didn’t mean to fall in love you,” she breathed, and he felt her tip into sleep.

Talon bolted up in bed, jostling her awake. “What did you say?”

Jolted awake, she stared blankly at him. “Huh?”

“Did you just say you love me?” he demanded.

A scarlet blush stained her cheeks. She gaped at him and he almost laughed as he watched her brain try to engage. The vulnerable look in her eyes tugged at those annoying heartstrings. Her simple words had chased the fear and anxiety he’d felt since seeing her facing a blaster. He knew they would come back, but for now, the joy that blazed through him burned everything else away.

He brushed a tender kiss against her lips and confessed, “I love you too.”

A beaming smile lit her face and made those unusual eyes glow. “You love me?”

“Really.”

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He lay back down and pulled her with him to snuggle. He traced his hands along her spine and joy shifted a little to make room for contentment.

“I can’t believe I’m happy to be back on N’yota, much less actually looking forward to a future and family here.”

“Nothing would make me happier than to see you carrying my child,” he told her.

“But, I think we should wait until things here are more secure before bringing a baby into our lives.”

She lifted her head from his chest to look at him with surprise. “What about securing N’yota’s future?”

“Seeing our children are protected enough to have a future is more important.”

“I knew there was more to you than duty,” she announced on a yawn. He pulled her back down against him. The day’s stress had exhausted Lia, who immediately dropped off to sleep. Talon lay awake until late in the night, savoring the feel of his sleeping wife in his arms and the rhythmic deep breathing that proved to him she still lived.

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Epilogue

Two years later

Ilexa paused in the doorway and took in the scene before her with a fond smile. One of the large salons in the palace’s private quarters had been dubbed the “family room”

sometime in the six months since Talon and Lia had finally taken up residence. At any given time you would always find at least one member of her family there. Today, however, almost the entire horde had gathered for a private celebration. Only Bastian was missing. The majority of the day had been spent publicly celebrating the two-year anniversary of Lia’s ascension. Tonight, the family celebrated casually. Relaxing, she let her innate skill rise within her and she watched them with her inner eye. A pale gold glow surrounded her sister-in-law. Apparently, she and Talon had done some celebrating of their own. The baby she carried was only a few hours conceived. It would be a while before the parents even knew the child existed. She wondered when during the celebration they’d found the privacy to make the baby. Scratch that. She didn’t want to know.

Asha rose and lumbered over to lean her body against Ilexa’s legs, knocking her into the doorjamb. The beautiful animal had grown to her full size, but still behaved as a youngling.

Distracted by Lia’s pet, her gift retreated. This time, she kept it suppressed. Her mother’s tinkling laugh drew her attention and she wasn’t surprised to see Captain Brisby flirting outrageously. The man and his crew had mysteriously disappeared from the planet shortly before Caden attempted to murder the Damaia. Since that time, he had somehow managed to sneak back on world several times. Of course, now that his rescue of Lia was public knowledge, N’yota viewed him as a hero. Since Lia had ascended, everyone seemed to have prospered and found some happiness on N’yota. Everyone except Ilexa.

“Lex,” Dante called. “Come rescue Mal before I’m forced to throttle him.”

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Forcing a smile to her lips, she swept into the room to join her family. She didn’t want to dampen the festal mood. Now was not the time to tell them she was leaving.

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About the Author

To learn more about Liz Craven, please visit www.lizcraven.com. Send an email to

liz.craven@lizcraven.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Liz! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lizcraven_newsletter/

Rianna and Jhaan fight to bring a promise of hope to a world on the edge of extinction.

Promise for Tomorrow

© 2007 Liz Kreger

Jhaan san deCain has only a few days left to find his psi-mate or lose his place as heir to the throne of Dakar. Rescuing Zarian princess Rianna Chartier from an assassination attempt was supposed to be a temporary deviation from his quest. But the moment he lays eyes on Rianna, he realizes he is looking at his salvation. The beautiful alien is his perfect psychic match.

He is driven to wed her quickly, even if it is without her knowledge or consent. For without a psi-mate, he will not only lose the throne, he will be doomed to a life of sexual dormancy. And his people will be pushed closer to the edge of extinction. Rianna cannot deny her attraction to Jhaan, but she is already betrothed to a Turnisian prince in a politically advantageous match. Dakarians are respected, even feared, for their formidable psychic power, but she is forced to rely on Jhaan’s charity to escort her safely to Turnis.

Rianna is outraged to discover Jhaan has tricked her into marriage. But his deception proves minor when they discover that someone will stop at nothing to see her dead.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Promise for Tomorrow:

“Dakar made the decision to seclude itself from other worlds for two reasons.” Jhaan halted before the wide expanse of windows, staring out over the gardens. Late afternoon was fast approaching. Shadows lengthened over the expanse of lawn. “About the same time that Dakar’s psychic ability was manifesting, there was once another world called Depharia. They were a very populous world and possessed a somewhat similar Talent, although theirs was a more emphatic trait rather than telepathic.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Few people have. Depharia was utterly destroyed over fifty thousand cycles ago, long before the formation of the Federation of Worlds. All that remains is a barren planet. Fear and prejudice encouraged an alliance of her enemies, which took steps to eliminate what was perceived as a threat. It made little difference that Depharia had never offered any type of threat, nor exhibited any hostilities. Not only did the alliance destroy the people of Depharia, they poisoned both the surface and the atmosphere. Nothing alive remains on that world. Dakar was a sparsely populated world then, but we observed and learned from the example of Depharia. Since that time we have concealed our growing ability, guarding our privacy and discouraging the presence of off-worlders.”

He felt Rianna’s distress for the world that had long ago ceased to exist. Through their link he knew when she understood the necessity of the Dakarian people to isolate themselves. That same prejudice that destroyed Depharia so many millennia ago was still alive and well in the present day.

She stared at him, her eyes damp for a people who were destroyed out of ignorance and intolerance. Standing, she crossed the room to his side.

“I think the caution of your people is well placed, Jhaan. There will always be those who do not understand. What people do not understand, they fear, and what they fear, they destroy.”

Warmth flooded him. He knew he couldn’t ignore the little voice at the back of his mind. He had to confess the truth.

“Rianna, I must tell you something.” He turned away from the windows to face her.

“The night of the Lunar Festival…”

“Yes?”

“The ritual the magistrate conducted is also called a Linking Ceremony.”

He hesitated, at a loss of how to continue.

“Does this have something to do with that weird little connection between us?”

“Yes. We of Dakar also consider this a—marriage ceremony.”

“A what?”

Her stunned expression made Jhaan swallow. There was nothing in life that he feared, but at this moment, he would have gladly faced the fiercest creature in the universe than try to explain this to his wife.

“Rianna…”

“You’re trying to tell me you married me without my knowledge or consent?”

“Rianna…”

“You knew I was betrothed. I have a duty to my family and my world.”

“And I have a duty to mine.” Catching her by her arms he stooped until he could stare into her eyes. “I was days from being declared sterile. I didn’t have the luxury of time to woo you, to win you over.”

“Instead, you married me under false pretenses.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“No? Enlighten me.”

“For each male of Dakar, there is only one female who can awaken his sexuality. For me, that woman is you. It never would have occurred to me that someone not of Dakar could be my mate. I was thrown off balance and reacted rashly.”

“So, it’s only my psychic ability that makes me acceptable. It was nothing personal.”

“It is completely personal. Your psi ability is only a part of it.” He willed her to understand, knowing he should have revealed these facts to her the night of their marriage. Accessing their link, he felt her anger, confusion, a sense of betrayal, and finally, pain. “I never meant to deceive you, Rianna. Time was against me.”

“Did you use your ability to take my free will away?”

“No, never.”

“How do I know that?”

Jhaan was silent for a long moment, staring at her, willing her to believe him. To believe in him. He’d hoped he would have more time to gain her trust. Now, he was at a loss to explain.

“Look deep within yourself. Look inside of me. I cannot lie to you, Rianna. A part of me resides within your mind, just as a part of you is within mine.”

“I don’t know how I can believe you.”

“We’d met under very trying circumstances. How do I go up to a complete stranger—someone who knows nothing of my world or our abilities, who was frankly repulsed by the idea of someone being able to delve her thoughts.” Color mounted Rianna’s cheeks but she didn’t deny the charge. “How do I tell this woman ‘Oh, by the way, psychically we are compatible. We must marry or I am doomed to a life of being half a man’? That she would suffer the same sense of incompleteness?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Jhaan lifted one hand to smooth her hair back behind her ear in a gentle motion.

“Your life would have been just as barren as mine, Rianna, maarai. You might have wed the Turnisian heir, shared his bed, bore his children.” His stomach clenched at the thought, but he forced himself to continue. “But you would have been just as unfulfilled, both sexually and mentally.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. Whatever cosmic fluke caused you to be born on Salazar rather than Dakar also ensured you were never, nor would ever be sexually attracted to another man.”

Rianna was silent for a long moment before she raised her eyes to his. The look she gave him was filled with conflicting emotions.

“So, you chose to deceive me. I’m trying very hard to understand, but once again the decision concerning my future has been taken out of my hands.”

Alone on a strange planet, forced to call a mate…

Call and Response

© 2008 Sara Rustan

Janeth Dewellin, a powerful empath, is on the planet Dragnath to find her missing brother. Her search is interrupted when she abruptly enters a second puberty and must quickly find a mate, or risk losing herself to madness. Alone and far from her people, her only hope is to “call” for a mate.

Empathic investigator Tom K’Restan follows a strange broadcast to see if this is the source of the negative empathic energy he is investigating. He finds Janeth, and an explosive attraction to her he cannot understand—and cannot resist. Running out of time and options, Janeth secretly mates with Tom and uses their intense sexual energy as a beacon to call to her missing brother. Love will have to come later, if she can overcome Tom’s dismay and convince him they are destined to be forever lovers.

But the dark entity is still on the loose, one that feeds insatiably on their energy, threatening not only their fragile relationship, but their very survival.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Call and Response He took a step closer and she moved back against the rough brick wall behind her.

“And this sexual arousal? Is that caused by another of your talents?”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stepped even closer, and she could feel the rigid shaft of his erection pressing against the softness of her belly. The arousal she’d been fighting surged through her, and her legs shook. Only the wall behind her prevented her from collapsing to the ground in a puddle of hormones. Her gaze fastened on the lips that were so close to her.

“I don’t normally go around with an erection that could break rocks, and certainly not for someone I don’t even know, even though you’re an attractive woman.” His lips

skimmed hers, and pleasure coiled inside her. He pulled back an inch. “So, answer the question. What are you doing to make me so goddamned horny?”

She heard the words, but the meaning didn’t quite make it to her brain because all functioning neurons had been drafted into the service of her body, which wanted sex right now. It took all her willpower to keep herself from pressing against him, licking those tender lips, wrapping her arms around him. If only she knew how he would react. He repeated, “What are you doing to me?”

She felt dazed and fuzzyheaded. “Sorry. My brain isn’t working very well.”

He waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Can you answer the question?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain…”

“Try.”

“Well, I’m not deliberately doing anything to you. But my people… Let’s just say I’m very aroused—and very attracted to you. And I can’t control it well right now.”

“And why does your arousal make me horny?”

“I’m an empath and…we have an emotional connection. You’re responding to my need.”

His body stiffened. “I don’t like being made to feel things against my will.”

“Well, it’s not my choice either. I don’t even know you.” She pushed against the wall, trying to put a little space between them.

“Why me? Why not that kid down the street?”

“You’re especially sensitive to me. There’s a…a link between us.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand. When did you figure out that I was sensitive to you? How?”

“I called, and you responded.”

“Called? That empathic broadcast?”

She nodded.

“So the fact that I came to figure out what you were doing means… Hell, it doesn’t make sense. I chose to come to where you were. You didn’t make me.”

“That’s how it works.”

He pressed his erection against her. “There’s nothing you can do to stop making me feel like this?”

She licked her lips and whispered, “We could have sex. That would satisfy the need. For a while.” Her face felt hot with embarrassment.

He stepped back, and she missed having his body against hers. “Do you do this a lot?

Call men to have sex with you?”

Now it wasn’t only her face that was hot; her whole body warmed with shame. If only she were at home on Lorelly where people understood. “No, never. It usually only happens once. I’ve never done it before.”

“Once. And I’m just the lucky guy?” He raised an eyebrow. She flashed a weak smile. “Yes, I guess so.”

“Do your people have a name? I’ve never heard of a race like yours.”

She looked down. “I’m sorry. We like to keep our existence quiet.”

“So what are you going to do, wipe my mind?”

“I won’t wipe your mind. I promise.”

He paced back and forth in front of her. “This is just…too much.”

He was right. This was getting too complicated. She couldn’t keep up these explanations, couldn’t make the situation plain, couldn’t tell the entire truth. Her body was so eager for him she couldn’t think. Maybe if she were away from him, her mind would clear.

If she pushed him to have sex with her, she would feel even more responsible for concealing the truth. If he made the move, her guilt would be less. It might be splitting hairs, but the stakes were very high. That ought to count for something.

“I understand that it’s hard to accept.” She straightened her shoulders. “Let me know if you are willing to help me.” She took a step. “I’ll be in my room, where we met yesterday.”

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

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