Born of Legend (5 page)

Unable to believe the coldness of that single act, she left him alone to rest and heal.

Dagger opened his eyes as he heard the door close. He didn't know why, but he felt her absence like a physical ache.

'Cause you're a minsid idiot.

There was that. And some of it was that he hadn't had anyone talk to him in a long time. In fact, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had an actual conversation with anyone. For the last four years, he'd lived like a rabid animal, constantly on the run. Saying as little as possible and avoiding any and everyone for fear of having to kill them should they recognize him, and decide that they wanted to become an overnight millionaire by turning him in or killing him.

Now, he was so tired of running. Tired of starving. Tired of battling for a life that just didn't seem worth the trouble.

He wiggled his toe through the hole in his boot and sighed. Wouldn't his brother laugh to see him now?

For that matter, his aunt Tylie would double over in smug satisfaction. Her favorite thing had always been to remind him of how unimportant he was. How little he mattered to anyone, especially his own mother.

Not that he needed the reminder. All he had to do was try to call his father or see his mother and it became apparent real fast that Nykyrian was the only son they loved.

He was just the one they'd gotten stuck with.

Refusing to think about it and reopen old mental wounds, he pulled his link out and checked their coordinates. If he could avoid League and Sentella forces, he should be able to pick up some tech work on an outpost. Maybe medical or mechanical. They were usually desperate enough to overlook the fact that he had no papers or a degree that he could prove.

Though it was hard to hide the fact that he was a hybrid. That tended to cost him a lot as humans hated Andarions and Andarions despised humans. Centuries of war between the two races caused them to be highly suspicious of each other.

The only thing worse to those two species was a hybrid piece of shit that reminded them they were genetically related close enough to breed.

Thanks Mom and Dad for getting busy and not drowning me at birth.

Oh for the want of one effing condom …

Selfish, careless bastards.

He looked up as the door opened to show Ushara returning with a tray in her hands. The scent of something warm and delicious hit him like a fist.

“I thought you might be hungry.”

His throat instantly dry, he couldn't speak. Not when he was this close to what smelled like a real meal. Unable to resist it, he went to the tray stand where she placed it. Oh yeah … that
was
food.

For once, he wasn't hallucinating and he didn't even care if it was poisoned, pissed on, or spit in. He'd take whatever, and bear out the consequences later. Anything to stop the gnawing hunger.…

Ushara barely got the lid and her fingers clear of the plate before Jullien literally attacked the food. With his bare hands, he shoved it into his mouth with a ravenous frenzy. A little afraid of him, she stepped back, wide-eyed.

After a few seconds, he glanced up and must have caught the horrified expression on her face. He slowed down and licked at his fingers.

Biting her lip sheepishly, she held the cutlery out to him. “Would you like a knife and fork? Napkin?”

With an adorable blush, he reached for them. “Sorry. It's been a while since…” He went back to eating.

“You had food or company?” She finished for him.

“Either.” This time his manners were flawless. Refined.

“I'm not judging you,
Alteske
. Please.” She gestured at the food. “Had I realized how hungry you were, I'd have brought more.”

He didn't speak as he returned to inhaling the food, then he swallowed the drink so fast she was surprised it didn't come back up. Or that he didn't belch. But he did blush again as he realized how he'd behaved.

In a move filled with complete incongruity for his earlier zest, he placed the cutlery and napkin primly by the plate and covered the dish.

“Admiral? We have a matter on deck.”

She glanced to the monitor where Gavin was paging her. “Can you patch it through?”

Gavin glanced to Jullien. “It's a transmission we're picking up, but none of us can translate it, and the ship's translation software can't ID the language. We're concerned The League or another force might be tracking us.”

“Patch it to me.”

Finally, he played it.

Ushara scowled. It was pretty, but … “No idea. Pull back and—”

“Gyron Force code,” Jullien said without hesitation. “Nothing to do with you. They have troops heading to Aluran C for training. They're getting ready to start some crap with their neighbors soon. It's a routine transmission from command to their leader, with orders for mission parameters.”

They both gaped at Jullien.

“What?” he asked defensively. “I had cousins who were Gyron Force. One a major. The other a captain. Their uncle was the commander general before he murdered them all in a coup, and took his brother's place as emperor … and my chickenshit father refused to retaliate. Anyway, when we were kids, Barnabas used to take me out on maneuvers to quote—
whip me into shape
—every time I dared breathe his airspace. Personally, I think he was attempting to send me into cardiac arrest. But whatever. I grew up on that military code crap. It still sends me into PTSD whenever I hear it.”

Ushara snorted at his dry, sarcastic tone. “Well, there you go, Captain. Nothing to worry about, then.”

“You trust him?”

“Since he has more to fear than we do should we run into the authorities, I think so.”

The screen went blank.

She turned toward Jullien with an arched brow. “Is that the truth?”

“Want me to show you more scars?” He reached to undo his pants.

Laughing, Ushara quickly stopped him. “You are so not what I expected from a tiziran.”

He scoffed. “Trust me, we don't hold the market share on asshole. There's plenty of that to go 'round.”

Sadly, he was right about that. Ushara moved so that she could pick up the tray. “Are you still hungry?”

“Want the polite answer or the truth?”

“Truth.”

“I haven't eaten in almost five days. Where do you think the hole in my boot came from? Notice it's the same size and shape as my fangs?”

Smiling at his flippant answer, she didn't want to be charmed by him. Yet …

“Come with me.”

As they left the infirmary, she almost collided with Vasili who was walking briskly toward her. He backed up sheepishly.

“Vas … what are you doing?”

“I, um … um.…” Her precious baby glanced around as if searching for an answer she'd buy.

She loved whenever he tried to lie. He was so bad at it.

Vasili looked up at Jullien. “Are you all right,
Alteske
?”

“Call me Dagger, and I'm fine. How 'bout you,
luden
? They didn't hurt you, did they?”

“Nah. But Mum almost killed me with her flying. Were you awake when we escaped?”

“No, I missed that.”

“Be grateful. Half the crew is still upchucking from it.”

Ushara rolled her eyes.

“But Ma, you should have seen the tiziran fight. It was awesome! He kicks more butt than you do.”

She arched her brow. “Gyron Force, you said?”

“Uh, no. Their prepubescent sister, actually. I got rather tired of her flushing my head in the toilets whenever she visited. Worst part about living in a palace? Turbo flush. Toilets so powerful, you fear they're going to suck out a kidney if you're still on them when you pull the handle. Quite certain I lost a few brain cells before I learned to beat her off me.”

His delivery was so dry and deadpan that she wasn't quite sure if he was serious or not.

“Joking?”

He arched a regal brow. “Would one ever joke about turbo flush, commode shampoos, missing brain cells, or Amazonian cousins? What kind of beings do you typically associate with?”

“Normal ones.”

“Really? Lot of normal sign on with The Tavali, do they?”

She went cold at his question. “Who said anything about The Tavali?”

He gave her the most arrogant cock of his head. “No one. Certainly not me.”

Damn, he was perceptive. Unnerved by it, she led him to the galley where she set the tray down on the counter.

Jullien pulled back to shadow the doorway as he saw that the room was occupied.

Ushara inclined her head at the cook. Short and round with blue skin and bright green eyes, Daryn had been a member of Gavin's crew for a number of years. “Daryn. How's it going?”

He wiped his hands on his apron before he took the tray. “Better with Gavin at the helm.”

“Would you stop?” She turned toward Jullien. “What would you like?”

All friendliness and teasing were now gone. His handsome features stern and deadly, Jullien lingered his hand on his blaster as he eyed the cook warily. “I'm good. Thank you.” With his back to the wall, he drifted into the hallway.

Confused by his sudden turn around, Ushara left Vasili in the galley to follow after the prince, who was already halfway to the infirmary. “Jullien?”

He slowed his long stride. “Yes?”

“I thought you were hungry?”

“I can make do. Thank you, though,
mu tara
. How much longer till you jettison me?”

“Why are you so nervous?”

“Not nervous. Circumspect.” He handed her his link with the bounty sheet on it again. “For that amount cred, I'm lucky I can trust myself not to shoot me in the back. Therefore, I prefer to stay in areas where I don't tempt others.”

“You have a point.”

“Yes. And it's not just the one on top of my head.” Without so much as a whisper of a boot click, he drifted into the shadows and returned to the infirmary.

Ushara couldn't believe that she actually felt sorry for a member of the aristocracy. The
Andarion
aristocracy, no less. She'd been raised to hate them with everything she had.

And yet …

She couldn't get the sight of his scars out of her mind. His shoddy, bedraggled clothes. The tired resignation and torment in his hazel eyes. Or his quirky humor that kept catching her off guard.

“Mum?”

She turned at the sound of Vasili's voice. “You need something?”

“Where did the tiziran go?”

“He wasn't feeling well.”

“Oh. Should I take him some food?”

She frowned at the uncharacteristic question. It wasn't like Vasili to care about a stranger. While her son was a good boy, he was normally very cautious and fearful around others.

Ever since his father's death, he'd been withdrawn from the world. A shadow of the vibrant child who'd worshiped every breath Chaz had drawn. They had been so close that after Chaz's death, Vas hadn't spoken for almost a year. He'd been so traumatized and forlorn by the event that she'd begun to fear she'd never see her son again.

Now, after one encounter with the prince, Vasili was almost the boy she remembered.

How strange that Jullien had sparked something inside him and brought back his trust …

“Sure. And can I ask a question?”

Vasili scratched at his nose. “Okay.”

“Why are you so attached to the tiziran?”

Shrugging, Vasili screwed up his face. “He had no reason to care, Mum. And he did. He gave me his link, blaster, and wallet to go home to you and then was willing to die so that I could get away. I don't know. It just meant something to me the way he did it. No one but you has ever stood and fought for me like that before. He was like a real-life hero. Like the War Hauks you used to read to me about.”

And that meant everything to her. Smiling, she drew Vasili into her arms and kissed his head. “You're getting so tall. Soon I'll be looking up at you.”

“God, I hope so. I'd hate to be this short as a grown-up. You think I'll be as tall as Basha Dimitri?”

“Taller.”

He smiled. “I'll go get the tiziran some food.”

“Okay, and Vas?”

He paused to look back at her.

“You probably shouldn't keep calling him that. It could get him into trouble. Just call him Dagger like he said, okay?”

Nodding, he headed for the galley while she went to the infirmary to check on their guest.

As she opened the door, she caught Jullien with his shirt pulled up, examining his wound. “Is everything all right?”

He jerked the shirt over it. “Fine.”

She didn't believe that for an instant. “How bad is it?” She crossed the room and reached to see for herself.

He stepped out of her way. “It's fine.”

“Let me see what you've done.”

“I'd rather you not.”

“Why?”

With an irritated growl, Jullien turned her to face the small mirror over the sink. The anguished pain in his eyes was searing as he met her gaze. “I have enough reminders of things I can't have. The last thing I need or want is to feel the hands of a beautiful female touching me when I know how repugnant I am to you, especially
that
intimately. I'd rather bleed to death first.” He glanced down at her hair with such bitter longing that it actually brought a lump to her throat before he stepped back and looked away.

Sitting down, he pulled out his link and stared at it. “Just let me know when it's time to leave.”

“You're not repugnant.”

He snorted a rude contradiction.

“What's that about?”

“It means I don't believe you,
mu tara
. I have much evidence to the contrary, including the way your lip involuntarily curls every time you glance in my general direction, as if I'm a pile of flaming excrement someone has lit on fire and placed on your doorstep.”