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Authors: Katee Robert

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BOOK: Queen of Swords
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Chapter Nineteen

Carrying his child.

Surely Boone hadn’t heard Cole say Ophelia was carrying his child. That was ridiculous. It must have been a hallucination, his brain trying to escape the reality of being Sanctify’s captive.

Still…

He struggled to open his eyes, to push away the pain surging through his body. Boone’s chest felt like he’d been strung over a flame and roasted. Bone-deep weariness made him want to give up and fall back asleep. But he couldn’t.

He had to know.

It took him a second to place the room he was in as a med bay, since none of his ships was large enough to warrant one. Everything was new and damn near sparkling. But, for all that, it was luxurious—the cot he lay on perfectly proportioned to mold to any body type, the InstaChef in the corner one of the newer models, even the sheets covering his lower half made of non-synth material.

Wherever he was, he was no longer in Sanctify’s hold.

A horrible suspicion took hold and nothing he did could shake it. She wouldn’t have come for him. It was impossible. Even in his mind, he couldn’t admit which
she
he meant. Both of them should be safe—Jenny on Valneci, and Ophelia on Keiluna. Not here, not within reach of Sanctify.

But who else would be crazy enough to attempt—and apparently succeed—in rescuing him?

Raw terror gave him strength to sit up. Or to try to sit up. Boone bit back a moan and finally looked at himself. His chest was covered with a haphazard variety of patches, all fused together with the sickly pink med-gel. What a mess.

The door slid open and, for one moment of endless stupidity, Boone hoped to see a familiar pair of violet eyes. Instead, it was his little sister who waltzed through the door. She raised an eyebrow. “Welcome back to reality.”

The strength in his arms went out, and he flopped back onto the bed. “You are the worst sort of idiot. Where are we?”

“Now, Boone.” He hated how she said his name when she thought he was being unreasonable. “Is that how you should talk to the woman who saved your ass?”

So it was official. Ophelia was gone. There was no other explanation for his sister’s words. If Ophelia was on the ship, she wouldn’t have sat back when there was the possibility of a fight. She would have been in the thick of things. Strange how her absence hurt more than the wounds Sanctify gave him. Boone pushed it away, forcing his mind into work-mode. There were far too many people depending on him. “How in the seven hells did you get me out of there?”

“Magic.” Jenny wiggled her fingers. “Hocus pocus and all that jazz.”

“I’m not going to get an answer out of you, am I?”

“Nope.”

At least not until he was out of bed and up for a knock down, drag out fight. “Report.”

Jenny grinned. “We stole one of their ships and gave those assholes the slip, but lost most of our fuel in the jumps, so we’re heading to Terra III to refuel, resupply, and recharge.”

Even being in the same room with her was exhausting. “How far out?”

“Six hours, give or take. You’ve been out for about ten.”

All told, the situation was significantly better than he imagined. Hells, he wasn’t sure how she managed to pull it off. Jenny was good, but she wasn’t good enough to take on a facility on Sanctus. When he’d healed enough to get out of this damned bed, he’d let her know what he thought of her disobeying direct orders. Times like these almost made Boone wish he didn’t have family flying under him. But that was an argument for another day. “Cole?”

“He’s lurking around here somewhere, being a gigantic pain in my ass.”

The door swished opened. “I wouldn’t have to do so if you would merely listen to what I have to say.” Cole stalked into the room, his body moving too smoothly to ever be mistaken for human, even without the fur and muzzle.

“There you go, lurking again. It’s damn creepy.”

Cole made a hissing sound that would have sent any sane person running for the hills. Jenny just grinned madly. Judging by past experience, in less than two minutes this conversation would devolve into a slap fight. Boone coughed, letting out a pained grunt when the motion pulled at his chest.

Jenny raised an eyebrow, but she stopped smiling. “Nurse Cole has some meds for you. Be a good boy and take them because you’re going to want to be on your feet as quickly as possible.”

Boone frowned. His little sister never backed down when she and Cole got into their fits. Never. That she did now meant something was going on. Before he could say anything, she gave him a saucy salute and danced out the door.

“Your sister is trouble,” Cole growled, crossing the room and dropping onto the floor next to the bed. Tuffs of fur stood out haphazardly over his body, signaling his agitation.

“I know.” And she was up to something, which didn’t bode well for any of them. He finally tore his attention from the door and looked at his first mate. “Are you okay?”

The Beshmaiite stared at him for half a second before he coughed out a laugh. “That you can ask me that after you’ve been sliced up is so terribly typical.”

His injuries weren’t any worse than the ones he’d received from Kristian, but Boone didn’t want to think about those dark times. He cleared his throat. “Can I have some water?”

“Only if you use it to wash down these pills.” Cole shook a bottle in his face.

“Fine.” He accepted the pills and the cup. All the while, Boone tried to stifle the questions building inside him. Ophelia wasn’t here, so he couldn’t have possibly heard Cole say she was pregnant. But he couldn’t get those words out of his head. Godsdamned hallucinations.

They sat in silence as Boone tried to get his thoughts in order. Jenny’s sad excuse for a report left more questions than answers. He knew he was safe—as safe as he ever was—but he didn’t know how. “How’d she manage it?”

Cole shrugged, his fur falling back into place. “All I know is she came in with lasers blazing and got us out of there—dealing them a heavy blow by stealing their newest ship. Most of our crew is on
Psyche
with the Evarven.”

There was nothing overtly wrong with the Beshmaiite’s story, but Boone couldn’t shake the feeling he was being lied to. He just wished his head didn’t feel like it’d been stuffed with synth-wool. “And then?”

“We jumped half a dozen times before we lost all our pursuers.”

Obviously he wasn’t going to get any useful information from his first mate, either. Boone took another sip, and tried to convince himself not to ask the last question. “Ophelia was safely delivered to Keiluna?”

“I know nothing about that.”

Lie. The flat tone in his voice was enough indication of that. What in the gods’ name was going on? Boone started to struggle up, heedless of his injuries.

A thickly furred hand on his forehead stopped him. “What are you doing?”

“If you won’t be straight with me, then I’m going to get my own answers.”

Cole laughed, but his dark eyes were serious. “Never could lie to you.”

“You should have remembered that before you tried.” A slow, steady anger built inside him, matching his burning chest, surging closer to the surface with every heartbeat. “Tell me the truth, Cole. Now.”

“It’s not my place.”

The door swished open again, and Boone started to tell Jenny where to shove her stupid grin. But it wasn’t Jenny leaning heavily against the doorframe. His words died in his throat and, for a long moment, he allowed himself to drink in the sight of her. Those six jumps must have cost her dearly. Her normally pale skin was green tinged, and the circles beneath her eyes were larger than ever. Everything about her screamed exhaustion and sickness.

He’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Hey, Butch.” Ophelia pushed off the door, stopping when Cole growled at her. “I’m not in the mood.”

Cole rose to his feet in an eerily graceful movement, still growling. “Sit down before you fall down, Diviner. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

She paled further, something Boone wouldn’t have believed possible if he didn’t witness it. So she was still sick? Something unidentifiable stirred in the depths of his soul, something he couldn’t afford to examine too closely. As he motioned her closer, Cole’s words, whispered through the darkness and pain, echoed in his mind.

Carrying his child.

It wasn’t possible, not really. They’d used protection every time. Or he was pretty sure it had been every time. But between the options of injections and pills, almost every woman in the universe was on some kind of backup birth control. With Ophelia’s taste in entertainment, she wouldn’t have left herself unprotected. She was too smart for that.

She couldn’t possibly be pregnant.

Cole slipped from the room as she stopped next to the bed. Driven by a need he couldn’t define, Boone reached for her hand and drew her down next to him. The give of the mattress sent a spasm of pain through his chest, but it was worth it to have her close. Damn, he was in over his head.

“Why are you here?” Oh hells, he hadn’t meant to say it like that.

Her back stiffened, and she tried to pull her hand from his. As soon as Ophelia figured out she couldn’t force him to let go without hurting him, she stopped, but it didn’t dampen the glare she sent his way. “Let me go and I’ll get out of your face.”

Boone sighed, beating down the pride that demanded he release her. He wanted her here, was allowed a moment or two of weakness in his pain. “That didn’t come out right.”

“Go figure.”

She wasn’t going to make it easy on him. “Why did you come for me?”

Ophelia met his gaze directly, and Boone found himself holding his breath. He wasn’t sure why, or what he hoped she’d say, only that her next words were devastatingly important. “I couldn’t leave you in their hands.”

Okay, so it wasn’t the declaration of…something…he’d wanted, but it was a start. He wanted to ask her about Cole’s words, but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. How do you ask a woman if she’s carrying your child? Instead, he went the cowardly way. “How did you and my sister manage it?”

She shrugged, looking everywhere but at him. “Papa still has some connections. He was able to get us in without a fight. And I made sure there were override codes I could get to on
The Dutchman
if the need ever arose.”

The Dutchman
being the Azure Enterprise ship taken by Sanctify some five weeks back. They must have reacquired it while on Sanctus. “Oh.”

The silence stretched, tight and uncomfortable. Boone was almost grateful when Cole came back with the food. There was no way he could stomach anything, but Ophelia needed the calories. She’d lost weight in the weeks since he kidnapped her. Much more and she’d become dangerously thin.

What was wrong with him? Why in the seven hells did he care about one woman’s eating habits?

“The tea will help with your nausea and the nuts shouldn’t upset your stomach,” Cole murmured.

Ophelia shot the Beshmaiite a look as she stood and moved to a chair. “Thanks.”

Boone glanced between the two, trying to understand the change in dynamic. First Cole growled at her, and now he was hovering like a mother hen. Cole never hovered. “What is going on?” He spoke slowly because he could feel the pain meds kicking in, threatening to suck him under.

Cole backed toward the door and Ophelia shot the Beshmaiite a panicked glance. He saluted her, and then he was gone, disappearing into the hall. Boone wondered if he’d be able to stay conscious long enough to demand answers, but Ophelia apparently wasn’t going to run from this confrontation. Which shouldn’t be surprising because the damn Diviner didn’t have the sense to run from
anything
.

She took a long sip from her mug and set it on the table, looking oddly nervous. “I’m pregnant.”

Boone forgot how to breathe. It was one thing to play with the idea of Ophelia being pregnant—it was an entirely different thing to hear her say those damning words. This was bad, was the worst possible thing that could have happened. The old Diviner was wrong, horribly, irreparably wrong. He wasn’t going to get a happily ever after.

Kristian was going to kill them all.

Chapter Twenty

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Boone discarded it. His having a child wouldn’t change anything, not with the old man dead. But Kristian wasn’t a man to leave any enemy at his back, and a child of Boone’s would be a heavy threat. Anyone unhappy under Kristian’s rule could use the child as a stepping-stone to unseat him, which meant Ophelia was no longer safe. She couldn’t go home, not with the threat of an entire military coming out to hunt her. And they would if Kristian found out whose baby she was having—not to mention the fact she was still supposed to be marrying the princesadistic bastard.

But keeping her close was just as problematic. Boone reached up to rub his face and winced. Then he realized he’d been silent too long. “Uh.”

“Uh?” She shot from her chair, violet eyes blazing. “
Uh
? That’s all you have to say to me?”

Shit, she was right. He could do better than this. “How did this happen?”

“Well, baby’s generally occur when a man puts his bits in a woman’s—”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Boone refused to react to the scalding look she sent his way. “It’s a legitimate question.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. “The pills make me sick, and the implants don’t work. There aren’t enough Diviners out there to justify the cost of research. I generally rely on the old-fashioned use of condoms.”

And he couldn’t be sure there hadn’t been a time—or two—that they hadn’t used them. Stupid. Terribly stupid. Boone sighed. “You can’t go home.”

If anything, his words just pissed her off more. “So you think because you knocked me up, you can rule my life? News flash, Butch, I’m my own person. Always have been, always will be. Having your baby won’t change that.”

Tension he hadn’t been aware of flowed out of him. Ophelia wanted to keep the baby. She wasn’t going to make a trip to one of the clinics available. Thank the gods.

Unwilling to look too closely at his motivations, he sighed again. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say it was the drugs in my system, but I don’t know how you want me to react.” Hells, he didn’t know how he
was
reacting. “What I meant to say was that, because you’re carrying my child, Kristian will hunt you to the ends of the universe. He won’t allow another possible heir, not when he has no children of his own.”

Ophelia froze, her lips parted for what probably would have been an ear ringing rant. With a sigh of her own, she sat back down. “This is a mess. Everything’s changed.”

What an understatement. Boone took another drink from his cup in an attempt to buy time. He had to choose his words carefully so as not to send her round the bend again. “What are we going to do?”

Her half smile was reward enough for his efforts. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure I like you most of the time.”

“Sure you do.”

The smile grew, but it didn’t lessen the haunted look in her eyes. “Jackass.”

“Hellcat.”

Ophelia fiddled with her cup. “Was this just a random raid or did they take you on purpose?”

Boone shifted, the move pulling at his still-healing chest. At the rate he was going, it would end up a perfect match for his back. Something to look forward to. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” She arched a perfectly shaped brow…and when did he start noticing things like that? “Where were you taken?”

“Outer Second Quadrant.” Now that he thought about it, Sanctify wasn’t generally hanging about out there, since there was only one system, and it was nowhere near the warp point he’d come out of. “You think they were looking for me?”

She took a long sip, obviously buying herself time. “I don’t know, Boone, but I think it was a hell of a coincidence. And I don’t believe in coincidences.”

No, she wouldn’t. “It seems pretty arrogant to believe they sent three ships just to pick me up.”

“Does it? You’re one of the possible heirs to an entire planet, and you don’t share their prejudices—while your brother does.”

“He wouldn’t align himself with those monsters.” Even as the words crossed his lips, Boone wondered. Kristian was a monster all on his own—what was to stop him from an alliance with others who shared his tendencies? He pushed away the memories hovering at the edges of his mind, threatening to drown him, unwilling to dwell on the pain he’d experienced. It was over now, there was no going back. Not to the stone room where Kristian did his work, or to the chilly metal table that warmed after his blood started flowing.

Ophelia pushed back her chair and stood.

“Stay.” The word was out before he could think better of it. But he and Ophelia were having a baby—they should be able to get past showing some vulnerability. Funny how that didn’t make waiting for her answer any easier. “Please.”

Something changed in her eyes, but he couldn’t read their expression. “For a little while.”


He looked almost frail, his chest covered with a variety of colors, his cheeks hollowed with pain. Something in Ophelia’s heart tugged at the sight, propelling her to the edge of the bed where she carefully sat. Stupid hormones were making her soft.

She let him take her hand because he was knocking on the Reaper’s door, not because she was desperate to touch him, to assure herself he would be okay. Ophelia stared down at their interlinked fingers, both too pale to be healthy. What a mess.

Boone’s lids fell, shielding his eyes from view. It was easier to think when he wasn’t staring at her, easier to plan. She needed to have a plan, to decide what she was going to do. Boone couldn’t control her just because he was the father, but that didn’t mean she would go home to spite him. Ophelia had already decided to see this thing out.

The door slid open, and Jenny waltzed into the room. Since Boone didn’t so much as flinch, Ophelia figured the drugs must have taken hold. Good. He didn’t need his little sister wearing him out. “Need something?”

Jenny grinned. Ophelia was learning to hate that expression. Then she noticed the bag in the other woman’s hands. “Why do you have my stuff?”

“You’re bunking here and Cole and I are bunking together in the captain’s cabin. Most of these rooms are damn near unlivable.”

Ophelia blinked. “What?”

“Oh, Cole and I aren’t
together
-together. Or even together.” Jenny’s face screwed up as she dropped the bag on the table. “Eew. I’m freaky, but that’s way too close to bestiality.”

That hadn’t been what she meant, and the other woman knew it. “Jenny—”

“And you should really get some sleep. Those circles—” Jenny twirled a finger near her eye. “Nasty. I thought preggos were supposed to glow, not look half dead.”

“Jenny.”

“Well, I’ll be off now. Lots of work to do, a new ship to play with, and a Beshmaiite to annoy.” She turned and started toward the door.

“Ladydamnit, Jenny,” Ophelia hissed, not raising her voice for fear of waking Boone. “I can’t stay here.”

Jenny spoke slowly, as if talking to a dim-witted kid. “Of course you can. Didn’t I just say there wasn’t enough room?”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.
The Dutchman
has more than enough room for everyone to bunk alone.”

“Won’t work.” Jenny took another step backward, coming even with the doorframe. “See, how can I annoy Cole if he’s locked in here with Boone?”

“Locked—” Ophelia started to stand, but Jenny was too quick. She dashed out the door and the palm lock blinked red. “Motherfucker!” Locked in again. Against her better judgment, her gaze slid down to rest on Boone’s sleeping form. Not alone this time. It was really a shame they were both too damn sick to make the most of it.


Boone woke to the most tantalizing smell. A lovely mix of Keiluna’s purple flowers and coffee, it warmed his blood and made his head spin. He cracked open an eye, searching for the source. The red palm lock gave him pause, but what caught his interest was the woman curled on the far side of the cot, facing him. Taking a careful breath, he pushed himself into a sitting position. It wasn’t comfortable, but it didn’t hurt as much as the last time he’d woken up, meaning the med-gel was doing its work. In another day or two, he’d be out of bed for good.

He leaned over and brushed a lock of dark hair from her face. Violet eyes snapped open and a knife appeared in her hand as if by magic. And her thick metal bracelet was gone. So
that’s
where she hid the blade when he’d locked her up the first time. “Hello.”

She blinked a few times, her grip relaxing on the knife’s hilt when she woke fully. “Your sister’s a bitch.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “And?”

Ophelia sat up. He didn’t miss that she’d moved out of reach, but he tried not to let the new distance sting. Instead he focused on how the knife seemed to go liquid, then snapped back into solid form around her wrist. It was similar to how Jenny’s gauntlets worked. “She locked us in here.”

Boone raised an eyebrow. “Apparently she has more faith in my abilities than she should.”

She rolled her eyes. “A crying shame you aren’t up to it.”

A crying shame, indeed. He gave the patches covering his chest a dirty look. “Give me a day or two and I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“It wasn’t an offer, merely an observation.”

Things were too awkward, too stilted. At least when they’d been fighting, they had something to say. But there were so many things between them now. The war. The baby. The fact they barely knew each other.

Oh, he knew the bare facts of her life, knew who her parents were and about the family business, knew she was absolutely insane and deadly with a knife, but the little details of what made her tick escaped him. And he suddenly very much wanted her to be more than a stranger he’d slept with and then kidnapped. On impulse, Boone asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

She was silent so long, he thought she wouldn’t answer. “Green.”

“That’s a generic answer.” When she huffed a little bit, he smiled. “What kind of green? Light, dark, neon?”

A half smile pulled up the edges of Ophelia’s lips. “The color the leaves on Keiluna turn in the spring, so bright they almost hurt your eyes.” She sighed. “I never thought I’d miss it so much. I mean, hells, I’ve been gone on runs twice as long as this. But it feels different now.”

Boone fought down the desire to remind her she couldn’t go home. Her admission was as much of a white flag as he was going to get, and he couldn’t afford to mess this up. “I feel the same way about Hansarda, although it’s been ten years since I lived on-planet. I miss the dryness in the air and the way you can watch the wind change the dunes in the cold season.” Swallowing his instinctive fear of letting her out of his sight, he said, “If you want, we can still take you home.” If anyone could protect her, it would be a former lieutenant of Sanctify.

Again, an odd expression passed through her eyes. He thought she might try to cut him down a notch, but apparently Ophelia also recognized how fragile this peace between them was. “No,” she said slowly, not quite meeting his eyes. “I want to see this through to the end. I have a stake in it now.”

Elation filled him, draining away just as quickly. Her stake wasn’t that she cared for Boone—she wanted her child to have a safe life, to not be hunted. It was nothing personal. A small hole opened up in his heart, sending an odd combination of hurt and pride through him. She would be a wonderful mother. Even if she wanted nothing to do with him when this was over.

BOOK: Queen of Swords
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