Poisoned Pawn (17 page)

I made myself read through the rest of the articles. Luke would expect me to be conversant on them tonight, or the reader would disappear again and I would be left to listen to my own breathing. I read diligently until Rinth delivered lunch. The amount of food seemed directly proportional to the effort I spent doing what Luke wished.

After lunch, while the cleaning robot scurried around the spotless room, I pushed the furniture back and did my exercises. I could have done them easily in the bathtub, they were designed for spaceships with limited room, to keep muscles strong and reflexes sharp. I pushed and stretched, aching because I hadn’t been doing them regularly for a while. Then I took a long bath, soaking out stiffness and trying to figure out what my next moves should be.

For now, I would do what Luke wanted. I would try to play into his hands, get him to trust me enough to let down his guard. And then I would steal a flitter and escape. I had to get him to let me roam through his house. That was going to take some doing. My depression of the day before lifted with the storm clouds. No one was looking for Dace, captain of a small independent freighter, but they were looking for Arramiya Daviessbrowun, who had a very rich father.

I sat up too suddenly, floundering in the deep tub until I found my footing. Why was Miya’s father looking for me? He would know they had the wrong person. He had to. So why did all the papers report that he was distraught at the disappearance of his only child? Had someone else kidnapped her at the same time Luke’s associates had taken me? That didn’t make sense. Luke would have known about it and said something. He was arrogant enough that he would have made some veiled reference. No, the real Miya was safe somewhere. I would bet my life on it. I was betting my life on it.

So, who could possibly have known it wasn’t the real Miya who was kidnapped? Who could have the pull to make her father play along and pretend his daughter really was missing? I came up with one name: Commander Grant Lowell. He would pull strings, using me, in order to trap Luke Verity and probably his whole organization.

It was strangely comforting. I might hate Lowell, but I knew he wouldn’t give up looking for me. As long as I kept Luke convinced I was Miya Daviessbrowun, I would be safe until help arrived.

A thick knot of fear loosened. I took a deep breath, relaxing into the warm water. I was perversely grateful to Luke for the news clippings. He had meant them to upset me, to unsettle me. Instead he had handed me a weapon. I knew who I was supposed to be. And I knew who was looking for me.

I dressed for dinner, waiting until Rinth came. Fear and relief still warred in my head. Luke was dangerous, I couldn’t lose sight of that. I still had to be convincing. I had to appear upset and angry about my father; the news had said he was showing signs of physical collapse. He hadn’t been seen in his office since the demand for ransom had arrived. One interview quoted him as saying that he would give anything to have his daughter returned, unharmed. He had reportedly hired a physician to attend him.

I put on the first dress I touched, the same method I’d been using to choose my clothes. After I wore an outfit, it disappeared and reappeared a day later, clean and neatly placed back in the closet by invisible hands.

The act I’d prepared to feed Luke that night wasn’t the one I needed. When Rinth opened the door to the dining room, it was full of people. After so long in almost complete solitude, I was overwhelmed. I backed up and ran into the unmoving bulk of Rinth. Luke saw me and smiled, cruel and enjoying my reaction.

“Miya, my dear,” he called. All eyes turned to me. I swallowed very hard and stepped forward, away from Rinth’s furry bulk. Luke crossed the room. He moved like a cat, sleek grace in action. His muscles rippled under his shirt, a sheer black that was open down the front, exposing smooth bronze skin and sculpted muscles. He knew the impact of his looks. His arrogant attitude showed in every movement. He took my hand and pulled me close to him. I smelled the spicy scent of expensive cologne.

“A gathering of friends,” he said and waved at the people in the room. “Come and greet them.” Or suffer.

He led me around the room, introducing me as Miya. They were mostly men, impeccably groomed and clothed, but still villains. I regretted my choice of dress. This one was low cut, held up mostly by gravity. Eyes inevitably dipped to my neckline. I struggled to keep my hands down and acted like I wore dresses like this one every day. Luke shifted his hand to my back, a gesture of possession that not one of the people present missed.

I did my best to memorize names and faces, not just to please Luke, which I obviously did, but also to use if and when I managed to escape. I had no illusions about who Luke’s friends and business associates must have been. They countenanced kidnapping, they had to be involved in other illegal activities.

Luke finally called for dinner to be served. The group moved to the table. Luke seated me next to him, Lopei on my other side. Talk was light, conversations touching on politics, on social gossip. No one mentioned the screaming headlines about the missing heiress. Dinner was a tense affair. I felt Luke’s eyes on me, I almost expected to see my skin burn where he looked, mostly down my neckline. I tried to breathe lightly.

“Tonight,” Luke announced when dessert was being cleared, “tonight we shall have a party. One like they write about in those social pages.” He lifted me to my feet, tucking my arm through his. I wanted to jerk it away and fought the impulse.

“Since my lovely Miya is dressed for dancing, we shall dance,” he said.

I was doomed. The only experience I’d ever had with dancing was that night with Clark, right before I’d been kidnapped. Luke would know I was a fraud as soon as we started.

“Luke,” one of the men said in a gravelly voice. “There ain’t enough women for dancing.”

Luke stopped looking down my dress and turned to the man who had spoken. “What do the women say?”

The five women present, most as hard and mean looking as the men, didn’t seem inclined to dance. The one woman who did, very young with pink striped hair and more filling her dress than her head, pouted and hung on her man’s arm.

“Then what do you want? No business tonight, only pleasure.” Luke gestured broadly with the arm that wasn’t keeping me imprisoned.

“Do you still have your gaming room?” Lopei asked. “High stakes only. Those here can afford it.”

Luke grinned nastily. “I like the way you think, Lopei. Open the game room. Does five thousand credits sound reasonable?”

They shuffled their feet, not wanting to agree. Under Luke’s heavy gaze, they reluctantly nodded. The pink haired woman clapped her hands and squealed. The only thing appealing about that action was the way her dress front bounced. The men next to her seemed to enjoy it anyway. Luke led the way to the game room, pushing me with a hand of steel. It looked friendly enough, but the way he handled me told me that I was to cooperate.

The game room was a gambling den on a lower level in the middle of the house with no windows but plenty of sparkly chandeliers. Various games, most of which I knew nothing about, were set up around the room. I stood next to Luke until my feet ached, watching him win money from any who dared play him. I knew he cheated. I didn’t think he’d appreciate me pointing it out. I stood next to him and pretended I was somewhere else.

I was more than happy to go with Rinth when Luke finally dismissed me. I sat on the bed, in my room rubbing my sore feet, and wondering how long I’d have to put up with Luke. And what other surprises he’d pull.

I went back into the sitting room, needing to see the stars. It was a habit I’d had since the orphanage. Every night I could, I would look out the narrow windows at the stars high above and promise myself that someday I would fly between them, far away from Tivor. The stars promised me freedom. It gave me comfort to see them now, strings of bright diamonds high above. I had a ship, somewhere. I would leave.

Luke’s guests left. Their flitters lifted over the house, streaking off to the southeast. I watched their lights until they faded over the far horizon. I promised myself that I would escape. I promised myself the stars.

“Payment for cargo,” Clark said wearily, dropping a packet on the table. Kimmel was cold, deep in the middle of winter. The streets were covered in fresh snow. It had taken all day to shift the cargo from the ship’s hold to a warehouse in a town several miles away. He stripped off the bulky coat he wore, dropping his frozen gloves to the table.

Jasyn sat at the table and watched him, her eyes far away.

“Where are the other two?” Clark asked. He couldn’t see or hear the two Enforcers, Juen and Ilod.

“Gone, to the base,” Jasyn answered absently. “How deep is the snow?”

“Past my knees.” Clark sat down and pulled off his boots, now soaked through. His wet socks came off next. His feet were cold, white in patches. He rubbed them gently, wincing as circulation and warmth returned.

“I met Dace in a blizzard,” Jasyn said, her voice lightyears away. “We were stranded in my apartment with Jerimon for several days. I made bets with myself which one of them was going to kill the other first.”

“How is your brother?” Clark asked. “Heard from him lately?”

She shook her head. “He’ll turn up again. Someday. He always does.”

He stood, gathered his wet clothing. “I need to dry off.”

She looked at him, really seeing him for the first time. “You look cold. I’ll get something for you.” She busied herself in the galley.

Clark went to his cabin, closing the door while he changed into dry clothes. It hurt to watch Jasyn grieve. She was good as ever at navigating, but nothing else was done quite right. She tended to be distracted easily, fading into distant thoughts. He missed her smile, her spontaneous laugh. She had taken everything belonging to Dace and put it in Dace’s cabin. Then locked the door. He didn’t know what to do or say. He treated her like glass, something that would break if not handled with the greatest care.

When he returned, she was back at the table, staring into steam rising from two mugs. Her hair was bound in a tight braid, a change from before when it tended to swing loose in a dark cloud. She looked up as he took a seat.

“What do we do now? Do we find more cargo? Do I give up?” Her voice faded on the last question.

He reached out impulsively and took her hand. It lay in his, limp, just as it had on the table. “What do you want to do, Jasyn?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she said, pulling her hand free. “You and the other Patrol will leave. I can’t fly alone. I don’t want to find crew again.” She wrapped her hands around her mug, lacing her fingers together so tight the knuckles turned white. “I’ll sell the ship. And maybe go to Lady Rina and ask for a job.”

He noticed her nails were chewed, the polish on them chipped. “And lose your dream?”

Her eyes were full of pain. “What do you know about dreams?” She stood, taking the mug with her.

“I know how it feels to lose one. Don’t give up the ship yet.”

“I don’t have a crew! I can’t fly it!” She pushed past him and slapped the controls for her cabin door.

“I can fly.”

“You’re Patrol, you’ll go back to your regular assignment. I’m beginning to realize why Dace hated the Patrol so badly. You have no qualms about turning someone’s life upside down, ruining it, for whatever flimsy reasons you think you may have. And then you have the nerve to justify it by claiming it’s for the good of the Empire.”

“Lowell might, but I don’t!” Clark rose to his feet.

“You’re still Patrol. You still take his orders. What difference is there?”

“And what about Tayvis that you and Dace keep talking about? He’s one of Lowell’s top men. What makes him so much better than me?”

“You aren’t half the man he is. Don’t drag him into this.”

“Then where is he? Why isn’t he here, if he’s so great?”

They stood nose to nose, yelling at each other. He saw the tears gathering in her eyes and backed down.

“Jasyn, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me again. I’m sick of it.”

“I’m sick of seeing you hurting and pushing everyone away. I didn’t know her as long as you did, true. I still miss her.” He turned away, to hide emotions on his own face he didn’t want to share.

“You’re as bad as I am,” Jasyn said, her voice brittle.

“No, I’m worse. I took this job when Lowell offered it because I thought it would be exciting, working undercover. I was blind to what it really meant. On a Patrol ship, it isn’t family, not like you were with Dace. I didn’t know what it was like to fly on a small ship. I never thought I’d care so much.” He looked at her, deciding to be honest with his feelings. He took the first step towards pulling down the wall between them. “I want to stay as crew. If you’ll keep me.”

“And what about Lowell? What about the Patrol?”

“My assignment is up in another month. I’ll ask for early discharge.”

The pain in her face eased slightly. “You’d do that?”

“Yes.” Emotions chased each other across Jasyn’s face. She settled on acceptance.

“I’d like to have you stay on, as pilot. And cargo handler.” She set her mug on the table, tracing the rim with one finger. “You’ve done a great job so far.”

“And we’ll find another pilot so we can keep flying.”

She didn’t want to hear that. She closed her eyes, the pain naked on her face. He couldn’t stand it. He touched her shoulders, wanting to offer comfort. She opened her eyes, huge and violet in her thin face. He could drown in them. She raised her hand, touching his cheek. He stepped closer, his hands closing on her arms, feeling her warmth. She turned away, pulling free of his hold, ducking into her cabin. The door slid shut. He was left holding air. He sank into the chair, his head in his hands.

The hatch opened, letting in a blast of icy air. He didn’t look up, expecting it to be Juen and Ilod, back from the Patrol offices.

“Major Clark, good work.”

Clark looked up at the enigmatic smile on Lowell’s face. Other silent people in Enforcer black entered behind Lowell. Clark shivered in the cold breeze from the open hatch.