Queen of Swords (12 page)

“
Psyche
? But I thought I was taking
Boreas
.” Jenny shook her head. “Nevermind, I get it. You want me to get her back quick. Which is stupid because you’re the important one. Don’t say anything—I’m too tired to argue.” She yawned. “Good night, big brother.”

“Night.” He switched off his wrist unit and wrapped his arms more securely around Ophelia. This closeness was something to enjoy, especially since she’d never let it happen if she were awake. Lying there, looking down at her, Boone could almost believe the old Diviner was right. That a happy future was in the cards for him after all.

Chapter Fourteen

The day started off crappy when Ophelia woke up alone. It only got worse when a cranky Jenny bundled her up and dragged her back to the shipyards. It was still snowing, the drifts now reaching Ophelia’s hips, the chill settling in her bones before they got to the marketplace. Gee waited for them just inside the hatch of
Psyche
, shifting from one foot to the other and looking worried.

Jenny snarled. “You tattled.”

“Now don’t be like that, Miss Jenny. You were in trouble, and my Marcy would murder me good if something happened to you.”

“There will be groveling required before I forgive you. Now get out of my way.”

If Ophelia hadn’t been in such a nasty mood herself, she might have smiled at how much Jenny sounded like her brother. But thinking of Boone only made her want to stab something. He went through all that trouble to force her to sleep next to him and then didn’t have the decency to be there when she woke up. “I’m going to my cabin.”

Jenny and Gee looked at her, but neither said a word as she shouldered past them. She hit the palm lock harder than she had to and stalked into the room. Her weapons were sitting on the bunk, neatly stacked. Sifting through them, she found nothing missing. The room link beeped, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Ophelia flipped it on but there was only a message waiting. A message from Boone.
I’ll be seeing you
.

That was it.

She switched off the link, fuming. He’d be seeing her? Like hells. She’d shoot him dead if he tried to come around after this. Arming herself did nothing to abate her bad mood. It may have actually made it worse.

Jenny was in the cockpit, fiddling with the navigation system. “We’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes,” she said without looking up.

Ophelia bit back the urge to tell her to make it five. Instead, she dropped into one of the jump seats and sighed. The sooner they were off this Ladyforsaken planet and back into civilized space, the better.

And yet, when the ship finally lifted off the ground and forced its way through the atmosphere, a nearly overwhelming sense of loss swept through her. After all this, could Ophelia really go back to her old life?

…

Boone watched
Psyche
shoot into the sky, taking Ophelia with it. It would be a long time before he saw her again, maybe years. If he even lived that long. His wrist unit beeped, pulling him back to the present. “Yeah?”

“You done watching the sky? ’Cause we need to space as soon as possible.” Cole’s fur rose and fell in waves, bringing to mind sunlight glinting off moving water.

“I’m done.” There was nothing left to see anyway. He flicked off the link and turned back to
Boreas
. There were orders piling up since both he and Jenny had been occupied with Ophelia, and they needed to be filled as quickly as possible to keep the credits coming in. And there were people depending on him.

Three jumps and they’d be back on Valneci. Back to reality.

He glanced up one more time, staring into the lightening sky as if he could still pick out the tiny form of
Psyche
. Boone needed to get the hell out of here before he did something stupid like go after her.

Despite everything, he was glad to be back. Being aboard his ship was a little like going home. Here, he knew every centimeter of the place and every sound. Boone paused to visit the engine room where Chuck was tinkering with some obscure piece of machinery. “How’s she been running?”

The short, swarthy man glanced up, dark eyes alight with mischief. “
Boreas
is like any other woman, Cap’n—she’s got her good days, but gods help us all when she’s feeling like a bitch.”

That actually startled a laugh from Boone. “And what’s her mood like today?”

Chuck shrugged. “Hard to say. She’s been quiet since you left. I think she missed you. Just whisper some sweet nothings while you’re powering her up and we’ll all have a smooth ride.”

Shaking his head, Boone left the engine room and climbed the stairs to the hub.

Cole waited for him in the cockpit, all systems ready to space. “Valneci?”

That he made it a question only annoyed Boone. “Where else?”

“Where else indeed.”

He brought up the star map, double-checking their jump pattern. Thank the gods
Boreas
was a larger ship than
Psyche
—they wouldn’t have to stop and refuel along the way. The warp point in the outer Third Quadrant filled him with unease, but they wouldn’t stick around long enough for anyone to know they were there.

Still…he couldn’t shake the feeling something was about to go horribly, irreparably wrong.

…

Boone’s feeling of doom only intensified when the next two days passed with no problems whatsoever. There weren’t even the technical issues that plagued the average flight.

Cole threw himself into the copilot’s chair, his furry bulk overflowing the armrests. “Something’s going to happen.”

“We warp in two hours and there’s no one within scanner range, which means no one can catch us before we go through.” Even to his ears, the reassurance fell flat.

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t someone waiting on the other side.”

Boone let a smile ghost over his face. “You could try to be more optimistic.”

“Hells, man, I
am
being optimistic.” Cole’s hair rose and fell rhythmically, signaling his agitation. “Everything is going too smoothly. It’s the calm before the storm.”

Even though Boone agreed, he couldn’t help arguing. “It doesn’t mean anything. There are multiple exits off this warp point. Even if someone knew we were leaving, they’d have no idea of our destination. And we have to warp again before reaching the outer Second Quadrant.”

Cole glared, black eyes stark against his pale fur. “Whatever you need to tell yourself. If you haven’t noticed, fate has been one step ahead of us this entire time.”

“Fate has nothing to do with it.” Superstitious bullshit. Next thing he knew, the Beshmaiite would be pulling out cards and spouting on about the future. The thought, like so many these days, led right back to Ophelia.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

He looked over to find Cole watching him closely. Being the object of
that
look made Boone feel like prey. It wasn’t a comfortable thought. “What?”

“That woman, the Diviner. Jenny said you two did the horizontal tango, not that I believed it, knowing as I do your feelings about her particular species.” Cole cocked his head to the side, the move looking more alien because of his vaguely catlike face and body. “But you really did dip, didn’t you?”

“I am not talking about this.”

“Yes, you are. You need someone to bounce your thoughts off of, always have. And that nutjob you call a sister won’t shut up long enough to act as a sounding wall. So you have me.”

Boone sighed and checked the stream of incoming information about the impending jump. “There’s nothing to say.”

“With all due respect, Cap’n, there’s always something to say.”

“She’s a Diviner.”

Cole snorted. “I heard. Also heard she gave you a bit of trouble.”

“A bit doesn’t begin to cover it.” And, just like that, the words were flowing from his mouth. “She’s impulsive and abrasive and attracts more trouble than Jenny. And she likes to make me bleed. I can’t be in the same room with her without losing control, one way or another. She drives me crazy.”

Cole was silent so long Boone glanced up from the controls to make sure he was still there. He found the Beshmaiite staring, his entire body eerily still. “What’s your problem?”

“You—you—” Cole shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “You
like
her. Hells, what am I talking about? You’ve gone straight past like and dove right into
love
.”

“I have not.” Even as he spoke, Boone wondered if Cole was right. He thought about her more or less constantly, made plans for a future where she may or may not have a role, wanted her so much he was walking around half-mast the majority of the time.

“Yes, you have. Which isn’t a problem, as long as you remember one thing.”

“What?”

Cole looked at him with something damn near pity. “You hate superstition, fortune-telling, and unquestioning belief in anything—which is the very foundation of what a Diviner is. She can’t change and you’d be a fool to ask her to try.”

Boone’s throat closed, a steady anger working its way from his chest. “Your point?”

“If all you want is a poke and run, that’s fine. You two have your fun and then go your separate ways. But if you lead her on, let her think you can have a future, and then pull away because of something she can’t change…” Cole shook his head again, ruffling the long fur running over his skull and down the back of his neck. “Then she will make you pay for the rest of your life. However short that may be.”

“How?”

The Beshmaiite laughed, but not like anything was funny. “The more the fool you are for having to ask that. She’s a Diviner, man, follower of the Lady. That goddess brings a whole new meaning to vengeance when one of her own is attacked.”

Before Boone could ask him what he meant, the initial alarms went off. The warp point was close. “Get the crew ready, and have Chuck do a quick systems check on the engine. We jump in five.”

Cole saluted—smart-ass—and disappeared through the door, leaving Boone alone with his thoughts. It was an ugly place to be. He was guilty of pretending those violet eyes were just a human anomaly. She’d made it easy, not doing anything vaguely Diviner-like after the fiasco with Gee.

But she wasn’t a human with violet eyes. She was a Diviner.

The intercom clicked on, a blessedly smooth feed after the static of
Psyche
. “We’re all here and ready to go, Cap’n.”

“Jump in two. Brace yourselves.”

The warp point reared up in front of the ship, a huge mass of boiling colors and shapes. As they approached, Boone keyed in the coordinates for their destination warp point, one of the seven possible. And then they were jumping.

His stomach dropped and the cold set it. It wasn’t unbearable, just enough to be uncomfortable, but he was glad when they shot out into straight space a couple of minutes later and the room went back to normal temperature. He checked the scanners, comforted when they came up empty. There was no one waiting. “We have two hours to our next warp point,” he told his crew.

Thank the gods it was such a short time. Better to get this run over and done with so he could make sure his people were safe, pick up the orders, and get back to dealing with Kristian.

His people.

Boone still couldn’t get used to those two words in conjunction with each other. The handful who followed him into exile were those most strongly affected by Kristian’s rise to power: the serving staff, maids who had been accosted, and everyone his golden brother had gotten away with hurting. Boone might have tried and failed to protect them while he was on Hansarda, but gone he couldn’t even do that. So he offered them sanctuary when he left, and most had taken him up on it.

Those numbers had swelled over the years, until he had a motley crew of five hundred, including tribes who roamed the plains, avoiding civilization. The rest worked and lived in Valneci’s capital city, waiting for Boone to make his move against his brother, waiting for a time when they could safely go home again.

Boone set the ship on course and leaned his head against the back of the chair. He’d be glad when they were on Valneci, where he wouldn’t have time to think about things best left alone.

…

The ships came out of nowhere. Or, rather, they used antisensor tech and it was only when three warships loomed in front of him that Boone even knew he was under attack. If he’d been on
Psyche
, he might have been able to outrun them but, as it was, he was outmanned and outgunned.

Worst of all, there was only one group who flew
white
warships. “Shit.”

Cole flew into the cockpit as the link pinged an incoming message from the middle warship. Boone brought it up, the image of a white-robed priest taking the place of the warships. “Surrender or our ships fire at will. You have five minutes to decide.” The screen went blank.

“Well, shit.”

Boone looked up at the Beshmaiite. “I don’t suppose you have any miracles saved up?”

“Nah. I used my last one getting a hot little thing into bed.”

Boone barked out a laugh. “Figures.” He scanned the ships, their hope of getting out of this alive and without being captured dropping with each piece of information he read. Sanctify made sure the damn things were outfitted with top-of-the-line weaponry in addition to the traditional lasers and cannons. “We can’t run, and we sure as hell can’t win.”

Cole dropped into the seat next to him. “I figured. So, we surrender?”

It went against every instinct to give in to these terrorists, to willingly become a hostage. If it had only been Boone, he wouldn’t have thought about it—he would have attacked and forced them to shoot him out of space. But there were others to consider. Jenny needed him. And that damned Diviner couldn’t keep her ass out of trouble. Not to mention his people trusted him to take care of them. Boone exhaled heavily and glanced sideways at the alien sitting next to him. If Sanctify took them captive, Cole was in for excruciating torture and death by burning. “Just say the word and we’ll fight this out.”