Poisoned Pawn (20 page)

I saw the flitter as it exploded. The other guests didn’t. The yellow of flames mixed with an intense sparkling orange pinwheel of light. Another burst of blue washed out any traces. I stiffened, wondering who had just died.

“Your father does not honor his agreements,” Luke whispered in my ear. His breath was warm, his cologne smelled of spices. I shifted away. He slid an arm around me and pulled me next to him. “Smile, Miya,” he ordered.

His arm was hard and heavy. I’d been locked in real iron chains before. I would have happily traded Luke’s embrace for them. The fireworks exploded over the mansion, lighting up the night in garish colors. I endured his touch, because I had no choice.

The show ended with an enormous spiral of green, white, and gold. The light faded and the darkness returned. The patio lamps brightened, spilling yellow light over the stones.

“Marvelous,” breathed the business woman.

“You know how to entertain,” Representative Tyell added. “If you ever decide to fire your cook, let me know.”

“He’s been with the family for years,” Luke said, the gracious host. “Your flitters are waiting. It has been a most entertaining evening.”

He escorted them to the side of the house. A wide apron of plascrete served as a landing pad. They said their goodbyes and lifted away. I watched them longingly.

“Idiots,” Luke said as the last flitter lifted away. He dropped his gaze to me. “You performed beautifully, my dear Miya. I should reward you with something.” He put his hand on my back and escorted me through the front door of the house into a wide marble foyer I’d never seen.

“Would you like to claim this as yours?” Luke said.

I stepped away from him. He looked me over, like a trophy he’d won. His smile was possessive.

“That dress suits you,” Luke said. “I am pleased you chose to wear it for me.”

“You left me little alternative.”

His eyes flicked across my face. “I have changed my mind. Your father won’t get you back at any price. You will be mine.” His smile spread over his face like oil.

“Who did you kill tonight?”

“You saw the flitter. Good. I meant for you to notice what happens to those who cross me. Your father is stalling. His men delivered a message tonight, one I did not wish to hear. Your father has been sent his reply.”

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice thin.

“Since your father chooses not to pay, I will take my payment from you.”

He came closer. I took one step back and froze. His eyes promised pain if I retreated again. He traced the neck of the dress with one finger, slowly running it along bare skin. It left a trail of gooseflesh behind. My stomach clenched. My hands doubled into fists. I fought to keep control. I hated the feel of his hand on me.

“You try so hard, Miya.” His breath stirred my hair, warm and sweet with the smell of wine. “You would have me believe you are ice.” He drew out the last word, his hand sliding over my bare shoulder. I shuddered. “You keep your distance, but I can sense the fire in you. Let me wake it, Miya.” He lifted his other hand, stroking my other shoulder.

I looked up into his face and wished I hadn’t. His eyes were smoldering, he licked his lips. I looked away.

“Fight me,” he whispered. “Make me believe you feel no attraction to me. I see the lie in your eyes. Miya.”

His fingers traced my neck, rising slowly. They slipped along my jaw and out along my cheeks. He lifted my face, his fingers splayed through my hair. His palms were hot on my face, holding me against my will.

“Look at me,” he commanded. His fingers tightened on my hair when I didn’t immediately respond.

I blinked tears of pain away and looked.

His gaze dipped to the low neckline of the dress. His fingers gripped my head. “Fight it if you must, but I see the fire in you.”

He kissed me, dragging me up against him. He kissed me hard, his lips pushing against mine. He moved one hand behind my head, crushing my lips against his. I pushed back against him and felt him laugh. I could have maimed him in half a dozen ways, I knew more about dirty fighting than I did about any other kind. An inner voice warned that I couldn’t strike back that way. He couldn’t suspect me, I couldn’t let him. So I used my hands to push against his shoulders, trying to break the painful kiss.

He shoved, until I pressed against the wall. He broke off, leaning his head back and laughing. I beat at him with my fists. He caught them easily and dragged my arms behind my back. He held me there, imprisoned in his grip, tight against him. I was breathing hard, trying to escape. I hated what he was doing to me. The tiniest part of me wanted him to kiss me again. I mentally shoved it away, sickened by my own body’s reaction.

“Fight me, Miya.” His eyes glowed.

He kissed me again, tilting his head and driving the kiss deeper. I jerked back, knocking my head into the wall. He pressed closer, trapping me. He bit my lip, hard. I blinked against the pain and tasted blood. He licked it off my lip.

I fought in earnest then, not caring what he thought. He had me tucked in too tightly, he knew too many tricks himself. I couldn’t escape. His hands kept mine pulled tightly across my back until my shoulders ached. My legs were tangled in the skirt.

He slammed his mouth against mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I froze in disgust. He wasn’t human. He was Rigellan. They were human in every way except one. His tendrils crept over my teeth and tongue. I tried to vomit. He crushed me against him for an eternity. His tongue finally retreated.

I shoved him as hard as I could. He stepped back, oozing satisfaction. I broke his hold and stumbled away, retching. He laughed. I ran as fast as I could, not caring which direction I went, knowing only that I wanted away.

I could taste him in my mouth, smell his cologne with every breath. I ran blindly into a wall and gagged again. His laughter echoed behind me. I ran again, not caring when the delicate straps on the sandals broke. I kicked my feet loose and ran barefoot.

I stumbled to a halt at the end of a hallway less opulent than the rest of the house. I leaned against a door and fought to catch my breath again. The door opened.

“Well, look what the boss sent.”

I looked up at the whistles and crude comments. I’d mistakenly thought the mansion was almost deserted. The room beyond was full of men packaging white powders into containers and cleaning nasty looking weapons. All of them leered at me. I backed away from the door, hand over my mouth to hold in the screams. If I gave in, I wasn’t sure I could stop again.

I ran into a furry wall. My hand told me it was Rinth, the top of his head came up to my chest. I backed to the wall, wondering if he was also going to attack me. His hand came out. I cringed away. He took my arm in his familiar grip and led me away. The crude suggestions faded behind me.

I was almost happy to see the familiar door to my rooms. Rinth opened them and pushed me through. The locks clicked.

I went to the bathroom, ripping off the dress. I didn’t care how much it cost. I didn’t care if Luke had ways of monitoring me. I felt used, filthy, and sick. I sat in the shower, the nozzles spraying at full blast, wanting the pounding water to make me feel clean again.

I hunched my shoulders, tears running down my face to mix with the water pouring over me. I hated myself. I hated living the lie that had been forced on me. With sudden clarity, I understood what it had cost Tayvis to admit he cared for me.

He was an agent, he did this kind of thing all the time. I realized that for all the time I’d spent with him, I knew almost nothing about him. He’d never talked about personal things, except the reason he hated his first name. And now I understood. You kept yourself locked away in the deepest part of your mind or you risked losing everything. You had to be someone else, you couldn’t let yourself show. Despite the risks, he’d helped me in every way he could. And I’d answered him with scorn for following the orders he had to follow. I hated myself then, for my own stupidity in pushing away Tayvis. In letting myself end up here with Luke.

I raised my face, letting the water wash the taste of Luke out of my mouth. I held my head in the spray until I had to breathe. I wanted Tayvis so badly it hurt. I wanted him to hold me, to erase the feel of Luke on my skin. I wanted to talk to someone who knew my name, who cared who I was.

I had been stupid, as Jasyn had told me over and over. Tayvis had tried to recruit me because he had to. Lowell gave him no choice. And I had sent him away with angry words, defending my pride. I had none left now. Not even Dadilan had stripped me this bare. Luke violated me, without even knowing who I really was. Of course, if he knew that I wasn’t Miya, he would have just killed me. It would have been cleaner.

I shivered as the spray grew cold. I didn’t care. I wanted the charade over. I couldn’t pretend anymore. I wanted to go home. And cried as I realized I really had a home. And people who cared about me. I had to go on, I had to keep pretending, if I ever wanted to see them again.

I pulled myself together and forced myself out of the shower and into clothing that made me ill just to touch. I got into the bed, because I knew if I didn’t do what Luke expected, there would be more punishments. And if tonight had been a reward, I preferred the punishments.

I lay awake a long time, trying to forget. I cried until I ran out of tears, and lay awake with burning eyes until finally exhaustion won.

Jasyn muted the com. “They want to know why I’m hauling equipment for the Patrol.” Her eyes expressed exactly what she thought of Lowell’s plan.

“Because it isn’t for the Patrol,” Lowell said, leaning in the doorway of the cockpit. “It’s on contract from the conservationist movement. Planetary Survey is being paid to conduct a population study of large carnivores. To see how the fur trade is affecting them. They are sponsored by the conservationists who hired you. We went over this before, Jasyn.” His tone was only mildly reproachful.

She rolled her eyes but passed on the message. She argued with the port authorities for a while. She was acutely aware of the attention her half of the conversation got. Clark and Juen guided the ship down. The other chair in the cockpit was occupied by the Sector Chief, herself. Jasyn finally received the permission she was after and switched off the com.

“They didn’t believe me,” she said flatly.

“They will,” Lowell said and absently patted her shoulder. His eyes strayed to the viewscreen.

“Don’t touch me, Lowell, or I will rip off your fingers and feed them to you,” Jasyn said.

Lowell moved his hand back.

“Scans are still clear, sir,” a voice called from the lounge.

Jasyn’s eyes drifted over to where the scanning equipment had been. Cables snaked out of open fronts and into the cabin. Lowell had brought his own equipment, much more sophisticated than the units he’d arranged for Dace to ‘find’ on Tebros. There were new drives installed in the engine as well. Sleek control boards, with the Patrol emblem still on them, looked out of place in slots that were the wrong size. Jasyn imagined what Dace would say when she saw them.

She had to believe that Lowell told the truth when he said that Dace was down there, masquerading as a rich girl. She didn’t want to face life without Dace, not now. She’d lost her dreams once before, until Dace had come into her life and given her a chance at them again. She owed Dace. So she cooperated with Lowell, because he was the best hope Dace had.

“Daviessbrowun’s ship has entered the system,” the scanning tech said.

“Good, good,” Lowell said, nodding and smiling.

“Do you want me to call him?” Jasyn asked. She hated having Patrol all over the ship. She felt displaced, pushed aside. Lowell had let her program the course in, he was letting her run the com now, but she still felt outnumbered. Every time she went into the lounge, the space she had decorated so carefully, it was full of big men polishing guns or running more cables across the floor. The galley was in almost constant use as well. That was her kitchen. When she protested, they apologized and kept right on using her equipment, eating her food.

“Don’t contact him, we’ve arranged another signal to use later,” Lowell answered her. “The less he knows, the less he can interfere.”

Jasyn had never met Hom Daviessbrowun, but from the talk she overheard, he was overbearing and very certain that his way was the only right one. She was almost looking forward to watching Lowell try to handle him. Although if he was here, and part of the plan, Lowell probably already had.

Sector Chief Querran was another puzzle. Jasyn twisted her chair, watching the older woman who sat in the scanners chair, among the new cables and ravaged boards. She remained calm. There was no doubt that Lowell was in charge of the mission, but Querran had the authority. The men deferred politely to her, even those Lowell had brought with him.

Querran looked at Jasyn and smiled. She could have been someone’s grandmother, with her warm gray eyes and soft voice. But she hid steel under the velvet or she wouldn’t be a sector chief.

“What are we doing after we land?” Jasyn asked. Lowell had been maddeningly vague on that point.

“We’ll leave you Juen and Clark,” Lowell answered absently, still watching the planet on the viewscreen. “You take the ship back to Kimmel and wait for us there.”

“No,” Jasyn said.

“No, what?”

“I’m not going to run away and hide and wait.”

“You’d be in the way,” Lowell said.

“Dace doesn’t trust you, she does trust me.” Jasyn had to look away from the measuring silver eyes. “I don’t know what you have planned, but I want to be there.” I want to make sure she really is alive, she added to herself. And give her a hope of escaping Lowell’s clutches.

“And how do we explain the sudden departure of the entire ship’s crew?” Lowell asked.

“We’re part of the conservation group?” Jasyn suggested.

“It could work.” Lowell nodded. “You will be included on two conditions. First, that you do exactly what you are told to do, without question. Second, that you put in a good word about me to Dace.”