Shades of Dark (25 page)

Two hours? The closest gate in our nav banks was a healthy seven hours away. The one we’d used to get here had been twelve hours out.
Two hours?

“At current speeds,” Del amended and damn him, I could
feel
him grinning. Gloating. He was almost as good as Sully at that.

Royalty shouldn’t gloat. It’s unbecoming,
I sent him. If Sully heard and didn’t understand, he would soon enough.

Del’s silent snort sounded in my mind.
It’s not gloating. It’s a deserved appreciation of our natural superiority.

And humility,
I shot back, noting a flash on my screen telling me we’d cleared Narfial’s outer beacon. Then out loud: “Tell me about this gate a mere two hours away.” Later, I’d ask if he had any inkling the freighter and our attackers were related.

“It’s part of the old smugglers’ gates you used to get here,” Del said.

I felt Sully’s interest, felt data flowing rapidly back and forth between Del and Sully. Disbelief waned, surprise taking its place.

“Whoever’s after us,” Del continued, “won’t think we have the balls to use it.”

Oh, joy.

Forty minutes later, when we were sure no one pursued us, I sent Marsh and Verno off duty. They could handle the ship once we had her set in slippery space. Again. But right now, Sully, Ren, Del, and I had a number of important things to discuss.

It was the noisiest silence I’d ever experienced.

No, neither Sully or Del had had time to run a scan on our attackers’ minds for further plans. There hadn’t even been time to get identities. Only that, yes, the two were hunting one Captain Chasidah Bergren and one Gabriel Sullivan, known mercenary and pirate.

But unknown
Ragkiril
. Interesting that Tage hadn’t warned his people.

Then we ran all the data we could on the “out-of-control” freighter. It was pitifully small. Ships didn’t sit at dock routinely running their short-range scanners. Not even the
Karn.
But she did always keep her weapons-seeker program operational. One of the quirks a pilot had to counter for when undocking. The seeker program, however, only alerted us when we were being scanned, targeted. It didn’t gather detailed data on who was targeting us.

’Droid operated,
Sully posited.

Del examined the freighter’s movements in slow-motion mode.
Quite likely. So not a true suicide mission. Junkyard scrap.

We had no way of knowing who owned that junkyard scrap.

Ren was breaking down all transmissions from forty-five minutes before the incident to when we lost contact with Narfial Traffic Control, hopeful the “distress calls” would furnish something. But chances were very good ship’s name and ID would be as creative as our own. A search on the
Fair Jeffa
would result in conflicting information that eventually dead-ended. The name that the freighter broadcast, the
Glorious Perceiver,
dead-ended even more quickly than that.

Did you try…But it could be…And how about…
bounced back and forth in my brain, while my ears took in only the normal beeping and clicking of the bridge and the occasional human or Stolorth sigh of frustration.

I’ve been watching Tage since shortly after Corsau,
Del admitted, when the topic turned back to the larger picture.
I had an inside source about much of what went on in the Justice ministry. There are some Ragkirils working there, as I’m sure you know. Only one
Kyi
I know of. Or knew of. She may no longer be alive.

Concern flowed from Ren.

Not that way, Brother. She was much on in years. An elegant, intelligent woman. Distant relative of mine. Not Serian. Delkavra. She’d outlived all three of her
ky’sals.
I daresay she was ready.

Three? I tried not to voice my surprise but it was heard, anyway.

Multiple bond-mates are not uncommon in some clans,
Ren said.

Delkavra women are known to be feisty,
Del added.
You could have been one, Chasidah. My great-aunt Michonna had five at the same time for a good twenty or so years. I often wondered if they were assigned to her bed based on the days of the week.

Sully’s more than I can handle, thank you.

That had better be a compliment, angel, and not a complaint,
Sully warned.

Can we discuss business, gentlemen?
I shot back.

Then a whisper, the smallest of sounds yet seductively deep, in the corner of my mind:
You underestimate yourself, Chasidah.

I pushed it away and filled my thoughts with the data on my screen while Del shared what he knew about Tage, and Sully filled Del in on Hayden Burke, not missing an opportunity to relay the list of seductive vidstars who’d graced his cousin’s bed.

My screen trilled, an icon flashing. “We’re in range of a data beacon. I’ll do the grab.” My voice was oddly loud after so much external silence.

Don’t bother with the scores. No Baris Cup for two days,
Sully said, sounding dejected.

Who’d you take?
Del was interested.

Garno, of course.

I have Walker,
Ren put in.

I logged off the pilot’s console. “Gentlemen, I have work to do. One of us might as well. I’ll be in the ready room when you run out of gambling and multiple-sex-partner stories.”

Touchy, isn’t she?
Del asked.

We haven’t had much time for sleep lately. Or anything else. Makes her cranky.

Sully!

Yes, angel?

I spun on my heels at the ready room hatchway, marched the three steps to his chair, cuffed him soundly across the back of the head—he ducked but I countered for that—and then marched back.

Then I shut the ready room hatchway and locked it. Too bad I couldn’t find a lock for my mind.

We skittered through the gate with me in the pilot’s chair and Del at helm, working as second pilot. Ren was already off duty. Sully was supposed to be at nav but instead he stood behind my chair and ran his fingers up and down my shoulder.

Cranky, eh? I knew what he was doing. I guess I should be relieved that he wasn’t pissing on the bulkheads to mark his territory.

I brought up the same guidance program that had held us fairly steady through slippery space the last time. Del reviewed it and pronounced it fit.

Then he turned in his chair, watching me and Sully. He motioned toward the nav station. “Dock Five is next?”

“I need to find Gregor’s fail-safe partner,” Sully said, his hand on my shoulder stilling. “But more than that, I think Acora has a number of people on the dock. Between you and me, we might be able to pin them down, get the information on the location of Burke’s ship. If they don’t know, then they know who will know. It’s a process of elimination.”

“Do you trust me enough to let me review the files on Gregor?”

“You’ve been flying my ship for the better part of two hours. What do you think?”

“I think you put people through a number of tests before you trust them.”

“Don’t you?”

Del leaned to his right, raising his chin toward the open hatchway to the corridor.
I don’t waste that much time. I probe, I find answers, I act on what I find.

Sully hesitated, then: “And what did you find about my crew?”

“They’re good.”
Marsh Ganton is skittish but right now he’d sell his soul to the devil—which he’s not fully sure I’m not—to avenge his father’s death. But he’s loyal to you, Gabriel. He knows what you’ve done for his family in the past. He envies what you have with Chasidah, but honors you all the more for it. He came from a nice family. A good man to him is one who respects a woman.

“And he’s close to Dorsie, his aunt,” I put in.

And a ripe plum for the picking she is!

But Del was laughing, teasing, looking for a rise out of Sully and me.

Verno knows you’re a
Ragkiril,
guesses I am as well,
Del continued.
Takas don’t carry the prejudices humans often do. His energy and focus is impressive. If I needed one word for him, stalwart would do well.

And Ren. Ren is the little brother you should have had but didn’t. In many ways, he represents all that is good about my people.

So then I have no worries,
Sully said.

Loyalties can shift in the blink of an eye, my friend. Never forget that.

A noise in the corridor halted our discussion. Marsh and Verno. Ren would come back at midshift. Unless slippery space acted up, there just wasn’t that much to do in jump.

“You’re relieved of duty, Captain Regarth,” I said, sliding out of my seat. “So are you, Mr. Sullivan. I think we could use some downtime.”

“I’ll check to see what Dorsie has in the galley,” Del said, gracing me with a wink as he passed by. The galley wasn’t a bad idea. Some pie or stew sounded good right about now. Lashto brandy and bitter-coffee were the last things I’d had to eat.

Del strode down the corridor toward the stairway, long braid swinging across his broad back.

I slipped my arm around Sully’s waist and tugged him toward the hatchway. Stew, I thought. Hot and steamy. A thick slice of bread. A glass of wine.

Sully came along with a sigh, Marsh’s and Verno’s voices filling the spaces between our footsteps.

“Hungry?” I asked when we’d almost reached our door.

He hit the palm pad then grasped my shoulders, backing me into the cabin. He turned, hit the pad again, and pinned me against the wall as the door closed and locked.

“Yeah, angel,” he said, his body hard against mine, his mouth hot against my neck, my ear. “Starving. But not for food.”

“But, Sully, Del—”

“Knows his limits. And underestimates mine.” A silvery glow spread over his skin as his fingers pulled my shirt out of my pants. Whatever else I wanted to say was halted by the fierce pressure of his lips, the seductive dance of his tongue, the intense heat that suddenly flared through my body, spiraling between my legs.

I gasped.

He kissed me, harder.

His hands found my breasts. The feather-light touch of his fingertips brushing my nipples contrasted with the exquisite, insistent sensations now pulsing between my legs, leaving me weak-kneed and dizzy. And we still had most of our clothes on.

That
I could fix. I tugged at his shirt. His deep chuckle vibrated in my mouth as he yanked it up, breaking our kiss only to pull it over his head. Then it was hot skin to hot skin, hands seeking, finding, caressing.

Chasidah.
Ky’sara-
mine.
He arched against me, fully aroused, hard, throbbing.
This is what you do to me.

And I knew. I felt everything through our link. Felt the tense excitement of the blood pounding inside him, felt the frisson of sensations as he ground his hips against me. A spike of pleasure jolted me and I heard his breath hitch, hard. I closed my eyes, immersing myself in his desire, his passion—

He grabbed me, turned me away from the wall, lifting me, his face rough against my cheek, his mouth wet on my shoulder. When I felt the mattress under my back, my eyes fluttered open. The energies of the
Kyi
glowed from deep inside him, surfacing in small flashes of lightning that raced down his bare chest, disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. Another surged up his left arm, striping his left cheekbone before fading into his hair.

He knelt over me.

Don’t be afraid,
ky’sara.

I’m not,
I lied, remembering only days ago when the blaze of the
Kyi
in the palm of his hand had shaken him, bringing him to tears—

Do you at least trust me?

—and days later, the surge of lightning beneath his skin. He’d almost killed Gregor. Until I tugged at that link between us. And then all he’d wanted was me.

Did I trust him?

Yes.
That was the truth.

Eyes black as the depths of space, he ran one trembling fingertip down the side of my face. The most incredible sensations of pleasure surged through me, arcing, teasing, racing.

“God, Sully!” My voice was barely a whisper.

So was his. “This is Gabriel,” he said hoarsely. “Let me love you.”

I reached for him, wanting the heat of his body against mine, but that damned electric fingertip kept up its journey. He pulled off my pants and left no part of me unexplored. Then his tongue retraced the path and when I was writhing, delirious and completely incoherent, he entered me, stroking, plunging, fire cresting, blazing under his skin.

I clung to his shoulders, the feel of his slick, heated skin under my hands the only way I could tell where he ended and I began. He groaned, shuddering, his mouth on mine, his frantic kisses interspersed with whispered confessions of desire, of wanting me beyond all reason, of loving me beyond all measure. Then his control snapped, the overwhelming sensations of pleasure pushing him—
us
—over that final edge. He cried out my name as he plunged harder, deeper, taking me with him through the forceful explosion of his release. And for a moment lightning raced under my skin too, and a limitless power filled my veins, hotter and sweeter and more potent than a thousand bottles of Lashto brandy.

He kissed me fiercely, his heart still pounding. Trembling, I brushed my hands up the sides of his face, threading them through his short-cropped hair. He angled his head, nipped at my ear, and I could feel the energies of the
Kyi
wrap silken cords around us like a heated blanket of star-filled clouds.

I peered over his shoulder through fluttering lashes, momentarily mesmerized by the sparkles. He levered up on his elbows. My hands slid down to cup the sides of his face. He looked at me, his dark gaze searching. He was breathing hard, the glow under his skin just now beginning to fade, the jagged streaks of energy not quite so intense. One danced past my fingertips. I tried to touch it but it was gone.