Shades of Dark (23 page)

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Authors: Linnea Sinclair

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BOOK: Shades of Dark
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He saw Del as I had, analyzed him as I had, but with a depth of knowledge about
Ragkirils
I didn’t have. I saw a Stolorth male relatively the same age as Sully, though Stolorth life spans were longer so my guess could be off. He did appear older than Ren. And I’d gauged him about Ren’s height: six seven, give or take. I hadn’t noticed if he wore flat or heeled boots.

He also appeared more muscular than Ren, but that could have been the coat or it could have been simply that he overwhelmed my senses in a way that Ren never had.

Sully saw, sensed,
felt
the essence of a mature, confident
Kyi
who had not only been able to control me but to dominate Sully. Sully had barely noticed the two women. He didn’t remember much of what he had noticed at all until I walked up to him.

Fear laced through him then. It wasn’t an emotion I was used to sensing from Sully.

“Go back to the ship, Chasidah.” His voice was a low growl.

“Why? So the two of you can turn this area into some kind of paranormal battlefield because he flirted with me? Power down, Sullivan. I don’t like him but I learned long ago in Fleet that you don’t have to like someone in order to work with him. His anger over Grover’s City was real. He
is
here to help, and Drogue’s people sent him. When all is said and done, if you want to fry his ass, I’ll be there cheering you on. But
not
here and
not
now. And don’t,” I added watching his eyes shift through shades of black, “try that mental compulsion shit on me. I’m in no mood for it.”

He looked away, pulse jumping in his throat, but he didn’t release my hand. Then he nodded, slowly, some of the bitter iciness flowing between us thawing.

I’m sorry, angel. I’m angry at myself, not you. And I’m…concerned. Ally or not, he could be dangerous.

I snorted softly.
Sing me a song I don’t know the tune to.

But neither of us were singing nor even very happy as we made our way down H-Level’s corridor toward the bar.

 

Del was lounging at a table for three in the bar’s shadowy back corner, a partially hidden duffel at this feet. Most of the activity was closer to the front, near the food vendor’s counter, where people could easily watch others come and go and listen for change-of-schedule announcements.

Or else Del had compelled everyone else to stay away. That wouldn’t have surprised me.

It shouldn’t. He has,
Sully confirmed, his arm draped over my shoulders now, hugging me against his side as we came up to the table. “Mine” was in his posture, in the defiant tilt of his chin, in the narrowing of his dark eyes.

I nudged him.
You two start pissing on the bulkheads to mark your territories and I’m leaving.

Del snorted out a laugh.

So much for privacy.

“It is to be expected, Captain Bergen.” Del rose, holding a chair out for me.
Kyi to Kyi, power to power. It is something we go through. It will pass as we come to trust each other.

“Let’s start by staying out of her mind and mine, Serian,” Sully said tersely as Del and I sat. He was still standing, one hand on the back of his chair as if he was considering hurling it at Del.

“Captain Regarth, or Del,” Del corrected. “Serian is not a name to be spoken out loud. I can explain why, later, or you can ask Brother Ackravaro. And please, sit. It is more difficult to apologize when you tower over me.”

Sully lowered himself stiffly into the chair.

“Now, ale? Wine? Or perhaps some Lashto brandy? Rim we may be, but occasionally some of the finer things do slip our way out here. And as I promised Captain Bergren, I am paying the tab.”

“Lashto and bitter-coffee,” Sully said before I could answer that water was fine.

“Excellent choice.” Del smiled, then raised one hand, signaling the bar ’droid.

A round of Lashto brandy could easily eat up a week’s wages. Del had the ’droid bring the bottle. The bitter-coffee came in the usual small cups with a wand of rocksugar balanced across the top. The aroma was marvelous, reminiscent of roasted amberseeds and chocolate. If it weren’t for the company and reason we were here, this would have been a delightful experience, one to be savored slowly.

Kyis
are highly motivated by pleasure
.

That from Del, smiling.

“Regarth.” That from Sully making no attempt to disguise the warning tone in his voice. Something else pulsed from him as well. Power, low level.

Del splayed his hands in a small gesture of apology. “Let me state something up front, before we proceed. It may put those concerns you have to rest, at least until you understand all this better and realize you have no concerns. And be assured no one,” and he flicked one long finger toward the patrons sitting at the front of the bar, “can either hear or understand our conversation.

“The only difference between you and I, Gabriel, is that I’m well trained in the use of my talents. That actually makes you the greater threat. I was able to block your link with Captain Bergren because I did not do it on a level of aggression. You perceived no danger because there was no danger. Had she sent out a serious cry of alarm and not just annoyance at my teasing, you would have known, you would have reacted, and I have every belief I would be dead.”

Del met Sully’s gaze levelly, all traces of whimsy now absent from his sensual mouth.

“As her
ky’sal,
you cannot respond to every twitch Captain Bergren makes. It would drive you crazy, and her. So you consciously or subconsciously filter what you sense from her. It’s necessary. Even when I compelled her to put the Grizni back around her wrist, it was a gentle suggestion. Had she truly fought it, it would have dissolved and you would have been there and I’d likely have her dagger in my throat.

“Captain Bergren is a trained warrior. She has a justifiable confidence in her abilities. Get used to the fact, Gabriel, that she will not come wailing for you to rescue her at every turn. She will always welcome your assistance, but she’s capable of defending herself.”

He folded his hands on the tabletop. “She’s also your
ky’sara
. You’ve not lived among us, so you don’t know what that means to another
Kyi.
Harming her would be an abomination to me. However, teasing her,” and a corner of his mouth quirked up, “is something I cannot promise never to do. Aside from the fact I’m an inveterate flirt, the joy between the two of you spills over to me because we are all joined on some basic level through the energies of the
Kyi
. What you share is something I’ve not seen in a number of years. It could almost make me as giddy as a bottle of Lashto.” He raised his glass. “Truce?”

Sully stirred his bitter-coffee with the rocksugar, eyes narrowed warily. Finally he nodded. “We have a common goal. That eclipses whatever personal differences we may have.”

“We have an extremely serious common goal,” Del said. “And forgive my intrusion, but I perceived you recently lost a pilot. You may find me to be useful to you, in more ways than one.”

It took us almost two hours and three pots of bitter-coffee to finish off the bottle of Lashto and lay out what we knew about Tage and Burke, and review the schematics for the Imperial Fleet P-75 that Burke had converted to a movable jukor lab. The coffee countered the majority of the effects of the brandy. We were sober when we finished, but more relaxed. Sully’s animosity lessened somewhat, though it spiked every time Del touched my arm or my shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

I refused to let it rattle me this time. Not like Sully’s constant small caresses that had unsettled me before I’d known what he was. Ren did it too, though less so. I saw it as an almost subconscious
Ragkiril
habit. They
were
highly motivated by pleasure. Physical contact was something they craved.

I’d known humans like that too. Dorsie was one. Maybe that’s why she and Ren got along so well together. Now, if she were to be around Del, we’d probably never get another meal out of the galley that wasn’t geared for the Takan or Stolorth palate.

“So you had no inkling they were going to move on Grover’s City,” Del was saying.

“My gut reaction was that something was coming. But Umoran wouldn’t have been my first guess.” Sully shook his head sadly. “Two of my crew lost family there.”

“Do you think Tage knew that?”

“Fleet knew about Marsh Ganton when I was on patrol,” I told Del. “Our intelligence stated he was a rim-worlder, likely Umoran, but more knowledge than that wasn’t priority. Of course, Tage has access to that intelligence. He could have built on it. And of course, Berri Solaria had met Marsh and Dorsie.” And become quite friendly with Dorsie, I remembered. She might have well passed on the location of Dorsie’s family. “Marsh’s father’s job at the docks was recent, though. To believe they were targeting him in order to get at us seems like an awful lot of work. They have easier methods.”

“Yes, your brother.” Del nodded thoughtfully, lips thinning.

“And they also have whatever Gregor told them,” Sully added.

“You sincerely need to get over this discomfort you have with routinely scanning your crew. Do you see, now, how much of this could have been avoided? Greater good, my friend. Even Fleet operates on that premise.” Del glanced at me then back to Sully.

“That’s not how I work.”

“Hijacking a shipment of synth-emeralds so a clinic in the colonies can fund new equipment, you don’t need to know any more than your crew is capable of following your orders. But this is the largest and most critical humanitarian effort you have undertaken. I’m not saying what you’ve done for the past decade has not saved lives. It has. But we’re talking now about saving
worlds
. The rules of the game are different.”

I watched the concern play over Del’s face. “Why do you care?” I asked him.

He seemed surprised by my question. “Pardon?”

“You’re Stolorth. The Empire has all but ostracized you. Why do you give a damn what happens here?”

He brushed his fingers across my wrist. “This is my home.”

“But Stol—”

“Is not my home. I am a Serian. You know how our names relay our heritage?”

I did. Ren was Frayne Ackravaro Ren Elt. Ren was his birth name, Elt the name of his grandmother, Frayne, his mother, and Ackravaro, his clan-of-region. That made Cordell Del’s birth name and Serian his clan-of-region. He should be Cordell Serian. Yet he used his mother’s name and a variation of either his birth or his grandmother’s name when referring to himself.

“Serian is—
was
—a clan of royalty that originated in what you now call Baris,” he said, his voice again taking on that cultured tone. “One of the oldest royal line-ages of Stolorths, predating the arrival of humans. In spite of that, we were known as progressives. We fought for space travel. We encouraged open diplomacy with Takas and with humans, when you came along. So much so that we opened our temples and academies to your representatives. You learned about us. You watched us work the
Kyi
.” He shook his head sadly. “You became fearful, your fear fueling the likes of Abbot Eng, but he wasn’t the only one.

“Suddenly we were demons, hated. We were driven from Baris and massacred because of the policies the Serians instituted. So my grandfather did the only thing any noble
Kyi
would. Something that is demanded by what we are. He and his siblings, and my grandmother and hers, took their own lives. It is called
rash’mh han enqerma.
To give to the gods a sacrifice in exchange for an unspeakable wrong. They returned to the Great Sea. My parents were permitted to live because of my grandparents’ sacrifice.

“I left Stol when I was twenty-two. I’ve never been back. I may not be blind like your friend Brother Ackravaro, but I am as much an outcast in Stol as he.” He reached for his glass of Lashto but didn’t drink it. “So I live now on the fringes of my ancestral home. And once again I see the massacre of innocents on the horizon. I was powerless to save my own people before. But I am not so powerless now. It is time for
han rey qer—

“Revenge for the greater good,” Sully said softly.

Del regarded him through hooded eyes. “You understand.”

“More than you know.” He shifted in his chair then leaned forward. “I find I’m in need of a pilot. Would you be interested, Captain Regarth?”

I understand why Sully made the offer. I just didn’t like it. Maybe it was because Del was a Stolorth
Ragkiril,
and Fleet training and prejudices still populated the recesses of my brain, my affection for Ren notwithstanding. Plus, Ren wasn’t a
Ragkiril
. He barely had
Ragkir
talents. Del was an overwhelming presence. Strong, sensual, confident. Charming. Very much like Sully, and I had my hands full with him.

Though I didn’t mind having my hands full with him.

Del was—

“I’d be honored to serve as pilot,” Del said.

—coming on board.

Del, true to his word, paid the bar tab. I took at shot at making him reconsider. “You don’t have your own ship to attend to?”

“A little beauty!” He adjusted his duffel’s strap on his shoulder. “I negotiated an excellent deal several years ago with a repair yard run by an Elarwin who works a magnificent refit.”

“That wouldn’t be Yagiro, would it?” Sully asked.

“The same.”

“Woman’s a genius.”

I’d been trailing behind them as we left the bar. I sidled next to Sully. “So shouldn’t you—?”

“My crew and my pilot have a mission of their own,” Del said. “Not dissimilar to what we need to do. I can set a meetpoint with her once we have Burke taken care of. Where are you berthed?”

“E-Level,” Sully said.

“The lifts have been abysmal of late. We’ll take the stairs.”

So were a lot of others, but at least people were moving up and down on the metal treads, not standing grumpily in line. This time I was on point, Sully and Del—taller—behind me. The stairwell blast doors were propped open, so I was looking straight out when I passed through, not down at where my hands would have been against the crash bars.

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