Queen of Swords (18 page)

Chapter Twenty One

They hit Terra III’s atmosphere a few hours later. When
The Dutchman
landed and no one came for them, they settled down to wait it out. Boone kept opening and closing his mouth as if he was too afraid to say something, until Ophelia was ready to shake the words out of him. Which was ridiculous. He was entitled to his own thoughts. She scrounged up some mixed nuts from the InstaChef, and they ate in a comfortable silence. His eyelids were already beginning to droop when she cleared the plates, but Boone insisted she sit with him and not at the table.

Though she was loath to admit it, it was actually kind of nice to be next to him, holding his hand, the warmth of his body pressing against her side. She was so terribly relieved that he was going to be okay, that the damage done to him on Sanctus wasn’t too severe.

It took longer than it should have for him to fall asleep, but eventually he did. Ophelia carefully extracted her hand from his, slipped off the bed, and got out her cards. So much had changed within the course of a few days. Too much. She felt off center and frazzled, not sure which way was up anymore. She was having a baby.
Boone’s baby
. Seeing the pleased look on his face when he figured out she wouldn’t terminate the pregnancy had been a relief in and of itself. Not that his desires really mattered right now. No one could make her kill her baby.

Her hands shook as she shuffled the cards. Ophelia hadn’t been lying when she told Boone she had a stake in this war. Kristian had to die. She wasn’t about to tell Boone she’d already decided that before learning about the danger to her child. To admit that was too vulnerable, too weak. Better to let him think her only motivation was ensuring the safety of the child and leave it at that. When this was over, he’d have a kingdom to run and no time for a Diviner he’d spent a single night of fun with. Hells, even if he married her, Hansardians practiced polygamy. Not to say she wanted to marry Boone. That was insanity. But when—if—she decided to marry, she would be the man’s one and only. Ophelia didn’t share well.

For once, calling on her goddess did nothing to calm her inner turmoil. Giving it up as a lost cause, Ophelia laid out seven cards in a cross formation, turning them all face up before sitting back. As usual, she was represented by the Queen of Swords. Two other cards were identical to the reading she’d done before—the King of Wands as the mirror/partner, and the King of Swords, Ill Dignified as the outside influence. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the prince was the King of Swords. Ophelia frowned. He wasn’t a prince any longer, if what Boone said was correct. He really was a king. Damn.

The two cards representing the present were Death and The Hanged Man. Not a particularly good present, but not really bad either. The beginning of a new life. The devotion to a worthy cause. Apparently, she’d made the right decision throwing her lot in with Boone. Good to know her instincts weren’t total crap.

The two future cards were more interesting. Directly below the Queen was the World Ill Dignified, which indicated frustration and the delay of completion. Something was going to happen before they could reach Hansarda. Since the king was still acting as an outside force, it would probably be at his direction. Which was a problem.

Below the World and directly above the King, was Justice. Ophelia reached out and ran her finger along the card, lingering over dual, mirrored swords. She would be the instrument of justice, would play a key role in her enemy’s downfall. Perfect.

Boone stirred, drawing her attention from the reading. She still didn’t know how she felt about him. He made her blood burn and her skin heat, and she could admire his devotion to his people’s safety. Hells, if he was this protective of his sister, how much more so would he be—

Ophelia caught the sentence before it reached completion, banishing it from her mind. Dangerous thoughts, ones she couldn’t afford. What happened to her? Where did the party girl who’d had no problem bouncing home with a cute stranger go?

Trouble. Ophelia was in serious trouble.

She put her cards away and headed for the bathroom. Maybe a cold sans shower would soak some sense into her, would remind her why, despite their obvious mutual attraction and his weird trust issues, Boone was not the man for her. He was going to be king, for Lady’s sake, and she’d never wanted anything more than to take over the family’s business when Papa finally retired. She didn’t want to settle on one planet, to be tied down, and marrying Boone would be the worst kind of bondage.

It wasn’t meant to be.

There was no palm lock on the bathroom, but she figured he would be asleep for a few hours yet. Ophelia turned on the water and stripped out of her clothes. She stood for a long time, staring at her reflection. She’d lost more than a few kilograms from all the puking, and looked worn beyond belief. Ophelia pulled her hair back and turned to the side, pressing her free hand against her stomach even though she knew better. She was less than four weeks along—she wouldn’t be showing for another three weeks or so.

Turning from the mirror with a sigh, she stepped beneath the spray. The cold water did nothing to stop her brain’s helpless spinning. She finally forced all thoughts of Boone and the baby from her mind, choosing to focus on Kristian instead.

Killing him was going to be difficult. Ophelia was good, but she hadn’t been trained as an assassin. If she could get close enough, she could stab him somewhere vital, but getting close was the problem. He was hardly going to sit back and let her do it. He’d have bodyguards and all manner of protection. And there was the problem of Boone. Ophelia had a feeling he wouldn’t be too happy knowing her plans, but that was tough shit. She’d never been the helpless damsel waiting for a white knight, and she was damned if she’d start now.

The sound of the bathroom door opening brought her head up. Shutting off the water, Ophelia walked out of the shower. She froze, her mind going blank with something like panic when she met Boone’s eyes. He was barely keeping on his feet but the look he gave her still managed to sear to the soul. She took a cautious step backward, relieved beyond measure when he didn’t mirror it. And if there was disappointment mixed in with the relief, it wasn’t as if Boone would know. He was still half dead. If they fell back into bed right now, there was a good chance he’d end up
fully
dead. Ophelia could just imagine explaining
that
to her kid someday—
Oh, your father? Well, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other and I screwed him to death
.

She snatched a towel off the counter and wrapped it around her body. “What are you doing up?”

“You left.”

Ophelia turned to the Clotheshorse. “I needed a shower.” She picked the first selections her fingers touched, not bothering to look at them. When a bright pink tank top and long, flowing skirt were deposited out the top of the machine, she bit back a growl but put them on anyways. By the time she turned around, Boone had crossed half the distance between them. “Ladydamn it, Boone. What the hells are you thinking getting out of bed? You’re about to pass out.”

She slipped an arm around his back, trying not to put pressure on his wounds. From the way he tensed, she hadn’t been completely successful. “Stupid, stubborn man.”

“You shouldn’t have left.” His voice was slurred with pain meds, and she seriously doubted he’d remember this when he woke up for real.

“I didn’t leave. I took a shower.”

“I woke up and you were gone. I don’t want you gone.”

Even as a part of her warmed at his words, she knew better. Boone would never say something like this if he were completely aware. It was the drugs, plain and simple. “Well, I’m here now. Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Stay with me.”

“Okay.” When did the man get so damn needy? And when did she start liking needy men? Ophelia helped him back onto the bed, and then she checked his patches. They were almost used up, but his chest was looking significantly better. The wounds were mostly scabbed over. Thank the Lady the idiot hadn’t reopened them when he came looking for her.

She climbed on the bed, making sure not to jar him, and let Boone take her hand. His eyes were already closed, but his grip never faltered. Sitting there, Ophelia could almost pretend they were really a couple, that she was nursing him back to health, that he’d love her forever. Stupid, silly thoughts.

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, there was someone standing over the bed. She reacted without thinking, launching herself at the attacker. They hit the floor with a muffled
omph
, her knife at his throat. Ophelia spit out a mouthful of fur. Cole.

“Diviner.”

She rolled off him, snapping her knife back onto her wrist in the same movement. “You startled me.”

“Obviously.” He coughed out a laugh as he sat up. “I will not make that mistake again.”

“See that you don’t.” She caught sight of the fallen patches. “You brought more. Good. These ones are almost tapped.”

“Yes, I know.” Cole gathered them up and rose to his feet. He paused, as if wanting to say something but not sure of what her reaction would be.

Ophelia moved back to the bed, sitting on her heels so she could help him with the patches. “Whatever is on your mind, you may as well say it.”

“Ah.” He swallowed visibly, the fur around his neck puffing up, making the hairs along the back of her neck rise as a chill wrapped around her spine. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was afraid of her, but that was a joke considering he could rip out her throat without even trying. “I see you have become
Tyche
.”

Ophelia froze in the process of peeling off a used patch. “What did you just say?” There was no way he could know about
Tyche
, about what it meant.

Cole was just as still, crouching on the other side of Boone’s body. “
Tyche
. The second aspect of a Diviner’s life cycle.”

“How do you know that name?” She didn’t want to kill Cole, truly didn’t want to, but if his next words didn’t satisfy her, she was honor-bound to do so. No one outside of Diviners knew about the aspects, knew there was a difference between power levels. If they had, Sanctify would have found out, and they probably would have succeeded in killing off Ophelia’s species. The only saving grace was that they’d underestimated the Diviners. She couldn’t let Cole endanger her entire species, no matter how much she liked him.

“Your great-grandfather told us.” He spoke slowly, as if aware of how close she was to attacking. “Any Beshmaiite who leaves our planet is educated in the ways of your people. Jeremiah granted us a great boon when he kept the location of Beshmai secret. The least we can do is to understand and protect any of his people we come across in our travels. I thought you knew.”

Ophelia had forgotten. It was hard to remember Cole was unique, was from a planet no one knew existed, when everyone acted so damn normal around him. She forced herself to relax, to go back to patching Boone up. Cole had as much to lose as she did. He wouldn’t pass around sacred information.

“I see.” She finished removing the old patches. Boone’s chest still looked much the worse for wear, covered in scabs and nasty pink med-gel, but he was healing. As Cole went to work with the new patches, she sat back. “And, yes, I’m
Tyche
.” Which meant her mother was now
Fortuna
. Ophelia would have to make time to call back home and see what changes the new aspect brought. Her heightened instincts were only the beginning, but with the threat of Kristian hanging over their heads, she was on a tough learning curve. The rest of the changes would show up sooner or later, and she’d just have to deal with them when they did. For now, though, she would focus on getting Boone back on his feet. “When do we leave Terra III?”

“A day at the most. Jenny and Gee have gone to arrange for refueling and supply distribution. The O’Keirna name gives them leverage in negotiation.” Cole didn’t look up from his work.

“O’Keirna?”

He glanced at her. “Boone’s family.”

She hadn’t even known his last name. Ophelia almost laughed, but she held it back because it would have come out on the far side of hysterical. She’d half convinced herself she was falling for a man she knew nothing about. What an idiot. The poor kid growing inside her didn’t stand a chance.

Cole finished up and stood. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“An unlocked door?”

He shook his head, as she suspected he would. “Jenny is captain for the time being. Regardless of whether I agree with her actions or not, as long as they aren’t putting you in danger, I have to abide by them. Are you in danger?”

“No.” Ophelia sighed. Really, the protest was only a token one. Even if she had free run of her ship, she’d probably be in here, making sure the rat bastard didn’t keel over. He’d already proven an insane desire to have her next to him. She couldn’t risk him wandering around, bleeding out while he looked for her. No, better to stay here. “Would you mind bringing me some more tea when you get a chance?”

Cole gave her an odd little bow. “Of course.”

She waited until he left the room to take Boone’s hand. Despite being asleep, his grip tightened on her fingers, and he pulled her closer until she was pressed against his arm. Only then did he relax back into a deeper sleep. The man was downright batty. And yet, Ophelia couldn’t help a small smile as she ran her free hand over his knuckles. When he was back on his feet, no doubt they would be at each other’s throats again, but for now she could sit vigil and keep him safe. At least for a little while.