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Authors: Linnea Sinclair

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Shades of Dark (16 page)

BOOK: Shades of Dark
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Sully had put a shirt on. Black long-sleeved thermal shirt, black pants, boots. Weapons belt holding his Carver-12 hanging at an angle around his waist. He’d shaved and was clearly on his way out—back to the bridge, engineering, ready room, somewhere—when Ren and I stepped through the opening door into the captain’s quarters.

He looked up in surprise, then his face blanked.

“No.”

I didn’t know if he was reading Ren or me. It didn’t matter. He knew why we were there.

I grabbed his forearm and dragged him away from the door, back in the direction of the couch. I had no intention of conducting this conversation within earshot of the corridor.

The remnants of Dorsie’s ministrations were stacked on the galley counter. Three large plates, all empty. A bit of brown gravy and a crust of bread were all that was left. Sully had always had an amazing appetite.

“You inhaled that in record time,” I said.

He ignored my comment. “No, Chaz. I can’t. You know why.” He switched his gaze to Ren, who leaned against the edge of the desk much as I had earlier. “You do too.” His voice hardened. “I shouldn’t even have to explain this to you.”

“Dorsie went to a lot of trouble to cook all your favorite dishes,” I said. I still held on to his arm. I gave it a little shake, bringing his attention back to me. “And I’ve just spent forty minutes on the bridge, listening to Marsh sing your praises. You owe it to them, to keep them safe.”

“Not that way.” He slipped his arm out of my grasp then ran one hand through his hair. “If nothing else, I’m not 100 percent yet.”

Wonderful time for him to admit that, yes, he should still be in bed.

“We have a few hours—”

“Sully.” Ren cut into my offer of more time, echoes in his voice of a river rushing relentlessly downstream. “Gregor sold out to more than just the Farosians. This is our problem.”

Sully’s hand dropped down from his hair, his eyes snapping to black, taking in Ren, taking in me. Suddenly my brain felt as if it were a comp system on maximum download. Images, information whipped through—all of Gregor’s data, things I didn’t even remember reading, the tiny Vadny-Vier logo imprinted on the archivers, Marsh’s words:
He’d die for us.
Nayla Dalby’s voice. The red snooper, blinking in Dorsie’s galley. And more. Berri Solaria’s angelic face. Philip’s worried frown. The article on
Ragkirils
from the West Baris University professor. Then Gregor’s colored-coded list. And the embedded time stamps showing transmission of the data.

“Fuck.” Sully turned away and strode for the bulkhead viewport.

I didn’t realize I was wobbling until Ren grabbed my elbow, steadying me.

“For someone who’s not 100 percent, you sure did that easily enough,” I said, anger vying briefly with amazement.

Sully made a fist against the viewport. “You’re
ky’sara
to me, Chasidah. It’s impossible for you to say no, to block me.”

All that I am is yours.
The phrase surfaced from memory, not from Sully. And it just took on a whole new meaning.

“Gregor and Aubry,” Sully continued, still facing the big wide darkness beyond, “will fight it. Gregor especially. He’s been around both
Ragkir
and
Ragkirils
in Fleet. You saw his transmits. He’s tried to learn more, especially blocking techniques. Not that they’ll work.” He shook his head then angled around toward me. “Remember when I read Guthrie in your brother’s office? He knew. He tried to block me. Idiot. And I wasn’t even half then what I am—” He stopped, lips thinning.

What are you now?
I wanted to ask but didn’t. He probably heard the thought, anyway. And I knew he didn’t know the answer.

“If you need to rest for an hour, then do so,” Ren said. “But it appears our assumption that Gregor and Aubry were running to the Farosians may be in error. And that error could cost lives. The Purity Brigade is not something to trifle with.”

Sully stared at us. “We don’t know it’s them.”

“Exactly,” I said, meeting him stare for stare.

A tense silence filled the room.

“Fuck,” he said again, softer this time. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and dropped his gaze to the floor, then brought it up. “Let me think about this.”

“If you want me there to act as if I’m doing the probe, I’m willing,” Ren said.

“You think I give a damn that Gregor finds out what I am? He’s not going to remember shit when I finish. But I can’t risk that I might—” He stopped, lips thinning once more. “Things could go wrong. Very wrong.”

“Nothing went wrong when you did the
zral
on Kingswell and Tessa Paxton,” I reminded him. When we’d hijacked the
Meritorious
from Moabar Station, Sully had erased the memories of our presence from the two officers on board. Except for some disorientation and a block of time that would never return, they were fine.

“And if the
zral
I try on Gregor turns out to be a
zragkor
and I kill him? Can you live with that, Chasidah? Can you live with
me
? Damn it all, woman. I don’t know if
I
can live with me!”

I turned from the pained expression on his face to Ren. “If you’re there, can you balance him somehow? Hold him back?”

“If he’s there,” Sully said harshly, before Ren could answer, “I could kill him too. He’d be linked to me,
Ragkir
to
Ragkiril
. It doesn’t matter at that level that he’s blind. If what’s in me views him as a threat, just the mere act of thinking about pushing him away could kill him.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Do you understand now?”

The Grizni bracelet tingled around my wrist. Fear had filled the room, an almost suffocating sensation. And it was coming from Sully, centered on Sully.

“You could be overestimating your abilities,” Ren said quietly.

Sully gave a short, harsh laugh. “I wish to hell I was.”

“You didn’t kill Gregor when you made him sick before jump,” I pointed out.

“No, I just damned near made him comatose for a full shipday. And I wasn’t even in the same room with him. That was half of a thought.
Half
of half of a thought to do that.”

And the fact that he could do that disgusted him.

“Okay,” I said. “So you’re not overestimating your abilities. Then you’re underestimating yourself—your humanity, your compassion. It bothers you that you can do these things.
That
is your check and balance, right there. When it stops bothering you, then I’ll kick your ass out of my bed. But until that time, we need your help.”

He walked over to me, put two fingers under my chin, and tipped my face up. “I don’t underestimate my humanity or compassion. You
are
my humanity and compassion, angel. You’re the only thing keeping me sane anymore.”

“Then have Chasidah in the interrogation with you,” Ren said.

His fingers slid from my face, fisting. “She doesn’t need to see that side of me.”

“She won’t. You’ll control yourself because of her. And as your
ky’sara
, and a human not a
Ragkiril
one, her link with you can’t be perceived as a threat.”

Sully started to turn away but I grabbed his fist, wrapping my fingers around his. “I’m willing to be there. We have to at least try.”

He stood stiffly, not pulling out of my grasp but not responding in kind either. “How much time do we have?” he asked finally.

“About nine hours to Narfial’s outer beacon. I don’t want to cut it too close, Sully. We’ll need time to react to whatever you learn from Gregor and Aubry.”

This time he did pull away. He dropped down on the sofa, elbows on his knees, and scrubbed at his face with both hands.

“And we also need to get some sleep,” I added. “You didn’t get much last night. Neither did I. Even if whoever Gregor’s working for isn’t an immediate threat, we have Del to deal with. And we’re shorthanded. This is no time for us to be working on the edges of exhaustion.”

I waited for him to quip that he could help with my exhaustion, but he didn’t. He just sat there, elbows on his knees, his mouth pressed against his fisted hands. Several minutes passed before he nodded. “Let’s get this over with.” He shoved himself to his feet.

“I’ll get Verno to bring—”

“Not the ready room. The storage room next to the brig. We use that. I don’t want crew around.” His face was impassive but his eyes were fully dark.

Ren extended his hand. “If you need me…”

“I need you to pray, my friend. Just pray. Hell is a dark and lonely place. The two of you are the only light I have.”

He strode for the door, stopping only to strip off his weapons belt. He looked over his outstretched arm at me and Ren as he hooked it on the peg. “That will get Gregor thinking. He’ll wonder why I’d risk confronting him unarmed. By the time he figures it out, it won’t matter anymore.”

I heard his bitterness clearly. I could almost taste his fear. “Sully—”

“Lower deck, Chasidah. Five minutes.” He slapped at the palm pad then disappeared into the corridor.

 

Gregor and Aubry may have been in the brig, but it was Sully who was the caged animal. The storage room was empty save for a heavy square metal table and four chairs. Sully had dragged one chair out to the corridor. He would talk to Aubry first, then Gregor.

He might as well have dragged two. He wouldn’t sit. He stood, arms folded, back braced to the wall. Then hands shoved in pockets, boots splayed wide, head bowed. Verno was waiting for my signal to bring in Aubry. I needed to make sure Sully was ready to do this.

Don’t give up on me, angel-mine. No matter what you hear or see. Remember, please, this isn’t the only thing I am.

Aubry tried to kill you. Whatever he and Gregor are doing has hurt all of us. And
you
remember. I’m Fleet. We’re used to a little pain.

This could be a lot more than a little.

Are you forgetting who was fighting by your side in the shuttle bay in Marker?

He stopped staring at his boots and lifted his head slightly. A sad smile played over his mouth.
You’re a half-decent shot. For a girl.

I took the reemergence of his quips as a good sign. I reached over and tapped the brig icon on the intraship panel on the wall. “Ready, Verno.”

“On our way, Captain Chasidah.”

Sully swore softly and, arms crossed over his chest, leaned back against the wall again with a thump.

 

“Bergren. Sullivan.” Aubry’s high-pitched voice held no note of nervousness as he stood stiffly on the other side of the table. I was no longer Captain Bergren to him. I wondered if I ever was.

“Sit down,” I told him. He glanced up at Sully, towering behind me, then sat. His gray short-sleeved shirt was ripped and stained. His thick short hair—not quite brown and not quite ginger—stuck out in odd spikes. The bruises on the side of his face were dark and ugly. They hadn’t healed as quickly as Sully’s. It looked as if Sully had fought back.

Kicked the shit out of him, until Gregor shot me.

“Would you like to make a statement before we begin?” I asked Aubry.

He frowned then shrugged. He’d never known Fleet or its protocols. “I didn’t steal nothing. I’m just tired of this, okay? I want out. Off the ship. Gregor said he did too, so there we were. You want to put me off on Narfial, that’s fair. You go your ways. I go mine.”

“You tried to kill me.” Sully’s voice was quiet, hard.

“I thought you was going to kill Gregor. I mean, you was like crazy or something. I didn’t want to fight. I just wanted to leave.”

I heard something in the back of my mind. It was the smallest of sounds. A whisper, little dust motes of words.
Don’t tell. Run. Won’t know. Stupid. Fear. Asshole. Can’t kill me. Leave. There’s time. Lies.

I fought the desire to shake my head to clear it.

Ignore it, Chasidah.
Sully’s voice. Clear, gentle. The word-motes hushed, hushed…

“Who’s paying you and Gregor to steal information from my ship?” Sully asked.

Aubry snorted. “Paying me? What, you think I’m working for Fleet or something? She’s the Fleeter.” Aubry jabbed one finger in my direction.

Blame her. Bitch. Gregor knows. Fucks Sully. Fucks Ren too.

Energy vibrated through Sully.

Down, boy,
I told him.


Who
is paying you and Gregor to steal information?” Sully repeated, more slowly this time, spacing the words out as if his teeth were clenched. I didn’t doubt they were.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The word-motes changed tone. Not Aubry thinking but Aubry remembering what Gregor said.
Got something good. Big money. He’ll never know. Fuckin’ Burke’s a waste. Real money. Ship. Weapons.

There was more, but I couldn’t catch it. It was so small, muted, I wasn’t even sure what I heard was correct.

Behind me, Sully shifted, leaning down so his palms were flat on the tabletop. He was shoulder to shoulder to me. Almost eye level with Aubry. I couldn’t see Sully’s eyes. I didn’t have to. He said two words.

“Hayden. Burke.”

Aubry twitched slightly. “What?” Then he froze, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

And suddenly sounds, voices, faces, colors, smells…everything raced past the edges of my mind in a nauseating blur. I tried to focus on it but I couldn’t. It would suck me in, down.

I stared at my hands, surprised to find they weren’t shaking. I wasn’t even sure they were my hands. So I wrapped my thumb and forefinger around the Grizni, feeling its smooth cool surface.

My world righted itself. The word-motes kept streaming by at impossible speeds but for some strange reason, as long as I held on to that bracelet, I was balanced.

Silence. Then a huge exhalation of air. Aubry, head bowed, forearms leaning against the table. He swayed, sucked in more air. Shuddered some out.

I looked over at Sully, and for the first time saw the silvery haze floating around him. I followed its path. Tendrils of it coiled over Aubry’s head, chest, and shoulders. Sully was in profile to me, his face impassive as Aubry shuddered and swayed, the tendrils moving with him—or moving him. I couldn’t tell.

BOOK: Shades of Dark
4.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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