Starlaw (28 page)

• • •

Past the midnight hour, Darius finally made his way to his room, leaving his family and friends to finish celebrating the
Titan
's return. Those still awake begged him to stay and greet the dawn with them, but weariness made him seek rest. He also had an overpowering need to be out of the ornate dress uniform donned for the occasion. And then there were memories to be expunged. Every homecoming brought them. With Goll's capture, perhaps this was the last time he'd experience the joy of family mingled with the pain of regret.

The only sad things about being back were memories of Astral and Kyrie, and why he'd set out to find any vamphiere remotely responsible for their slaughter.

Once the door to his chamber was closed, he stared at his image in the full-length mirror across the room. The man looking back at him was older, wiser. If he could go back in time, things would have been different. Since that was impossible, he must look to the future. Indeed, he'd spent far too much time from family and friends.

Life was short. Once the coming trial was over, he must find a new purpose.

Sighing and turning away from the image of a man whose primary drive concerned revenge, he removed his uniform, showered, and slipped into a warm robe. Without regard to what he'd already drunk after so many welcoming toasts and speeches from friends and superiors, he threw caution to the wind and poured a good measure of Lusterian brandy. The crystal tumbler he held sparkled in the light. Something about the amber color of the liquid and the cut of the glass mesmerized him for a moment. His mind seized on the information he'd just been provided and its impact on both him and the Earther in his charge.

Anxious to have his mind at ease concerning the loss of his wife and child, and the family of vamphieres who'd plotted the murders, his father had pulled strings concerning the trial. To affect a quick end to a situation that had lasted far too long, Goll would be brought out of stasis tomorrow. League investigators would begin questioning him. Charges would be brought and he'd go to trial immediately.

If Goll could be made to talk, Warlord sympathizers on Luster would be named. It could be the end of that warring faction's existence.

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. There was but one down side. Laurel would be asked to testify, to relive the night her friends died.

It was one thing to state facts before magistrates when one wasn't personally involved. As an enforcer on her world, she'd surely have testified. But there was a difference between that and being forced to endure gruesome accounts of friends' bodies having been torn asunder. Those facts would be repeated by Gemma, Barst, and himself. As he sipped his drink, he considered the outcome.

He had a feeling the composed, strong persona she'd so carefully constructed would crumble. Laurel would be reminded again that she could never go home, that whatever her life had been bore little resemblance to what she'd have to learn and withstand now. She'd be forced to face how inadequate she was, on a world many times more advanced than hers. He feared for her future and how she'd face it, even as he embraced his.

“Computer on,” he softly announced.

“Computer on.”

When the deep female voice programmed as a communication option spoke, he quickly relayed his command.

“Computer … switch on coms for the room across the hallway from this location.”

“Opening communication to the designated area.”

A moment of silence made him reconsider the late hour and any attempt to check on Laurel. But the woman wasn't as sturdy as she pretended. And when the façade she so carefully built fell and cracked, he wanted to be there. Right now, his concern was for how she was resting and if she had everything she needed. The Earther would go hungry or thirsty before asking him for help. The room computer in her quarters wasn't exactly like the one on the
Titan
. To allay suspicions concerning his desire to check on her status, he'd lie and say
he
was the one in need of
her
. And if she took on that obstinate air that marked her response to anything he said or did, he vowed to hold his temper and remember the deep-seated fears she tamped down.

“No response to hail.”

“Open voice-to-voice com.”

“Accessing.”

“Laurel … will you speak to me, please?”

He waited a full minute, but no one responded. “She might be sleeping,” he muttered.

“There is no response. But there are sounds of distress. Enhancing vocalization now,”
the computer responded.

Darius put his glass down and his body went rigid with concern. “Computer … open the door to that room immediately!” he ordered.

“Doors have been sealed for the evening—”

“This is a code red emergency … break the seal,” he demanded as he bolted from his quarters.

As he reached the massive arched wooden doorway of her room, the latch slid open and the door swung inward. He surged into the room, found the lights still on, and glanced at the bed. There was no one there, though the bedclothes were disheveled.

“Laurel, are you all right?” he shouted.

Soft cries filtered into the room from the balcony. He followed the sound.

She lay there, stretched out on a daybed, writhing as if she were in agony.

He knelt beside her and realized she was having a nightmare. Her eyes were closed and it appeared she fought some unseen demon from the darker regions of her brain. Her words were unintelligible, but her body language spoke of great conflict. Her hands gripped the bedclothes and her body suddenly tensed.

Without thinking of any consequences, whether she'd accept his presence in her room or his embrace, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her body. Then he stroked her long hair and lowered his voice.

“Laurel, wake up. You're safe,” he crooned.

In the next few seconds her cries stopped. Her eyelids fluttered as she came back to the real world, from whatever tortuous place she'd been plunged. In short order she awakened more fully and stared up at him in shock.

“What … what are you doing here?” she whispered.

“You were having a nightmare.”

“How did you—”

“That's not important. Just know you're safe. Nothing will hurt you, I promise.”

“It was dark. I saw Goll. He said … he said he'd kill me,” she softly relayed as she stared up into the vastness of space over them.

“He can't hurt you here. He can't hurt anyone anymore, Laurel.”

“Promise me …
promise
!” she demanded as she grabbed his robe with fierce determination.

“I'll kill him if he tries. I swear it!”

She blinked, nodded, and released her grip. “I … I … believe you.”

“Lie back. If you want to sleep on the balcony, inside, or anywhere else, that's fine. But just try to calm down and get some rest.”

“I d-don't think I can.”

She stared over his shoulder and the light from the moons' glow revealed how frightened she was. The woman wasn't hiding the real fear that likely lived with her every moment. Not now.

He pulled her closer and nuzzled his cheek against hers. “How many nightmares have you had? And don't lie to me.

“I don't know. A few.”

He pulled slightly away so he could see her face. “It's all right to admit it, you know. We all have bad dreams.”

“Not you. Not the great commander of an interstellar starship. Not the prince and heir to an entire planet.”

Now the look in her eyes was calmer. And it might have been a trick of the light, but he thought he saw the shimmer of tears.

With one hand, he smoothed back the tangled mass of her long hair and slowly shook his head. “I have nightmares, too.”

“A-about vamphieres?”

He slowly nodded. “Sometimes, they're about … ” His words trailed away, and he shook his head in sad remembrance.

“Tell me. Please?” she begged.

“Sometimes … I'm … I'm in a very dark place, too. I think I hear my little girl. She calls for me and I can't find her … then she's gone. I wake up feeling like I've lost her all over again.”

“God! Darius … I'm so sorry.” She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“It's just one of a few bad dreams. They fade. Yours will too.” He tried to make light of his sudden, unexpected input concerning a very sad and personal occurrence. But he wasn't able to withhold telltale sorrow from his voice. The shake in it was clearly audible.

She suddenly released him from her warm embrace, straightened her body, and the robe she wore. Then she tossed back her hair and took a deep breath. Her next words were as unexpected as her very presence in his life.

“Would you stay with me? Just to lie next to me, I mean. I-I don't want to be alone. And I don't think you do, either,” she quietly said as she placed one palm on his cheek.

He didn't have to think twice.

The daybed was large, but became much smaller as he lay beside her and pulled her firmly against his body. Even through their robes, he felt her heat. And he felt how very, very soft she was.

“Darius?”

“Yes?”

“Y-you've had a lot of nightmares about your deceased wife and baby, haven't you?”

He didn't answer.

“Goodnight,” she murmured as she tucked her head against his left shoulder, just over his left breast.

“Goodnight, Laurel.”

Common sense bid him leave.

He asked himself why he stayed. She relaxed and her body simultaneously molded to his.

She would likely resent his interference tomorrow. But it'd be easier to move the moons from their orbit than leave. He just couldn't. And for once, in a very long time, he indulged himself and closed his eyes.

Her scent, her soft warmth, and the way she snuggled next to him were the only things he craved. Such small gifts were all he thought lost in life.

I can't want her.
She's not from this world and will never fully adapt. I need someone with whom I can share life. Not constantly worry about. That was Astral. I can't do that again.

Even as these thoughts filtered through his tired brain, he pulled her closer and gave into sweeter dreams.

Bird song awakened Darius sometime near dawn. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Then a warm, cuddling presence brought him back to reality. He looked down at her, halfway beneath his body, and sighed in contentment. It had been so long since he'd slept the whole night with a woman.

Memories of Astral came to mind but no shame emerged.

He rose on one elbow and looked down at Laurel's lovely face. Her gracefully long fingers were spread against his chest. She must have sensed his movement, or felt the change in his posture.

Her eyes opened and she presented him with the sweetest, most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. The woman, on waking, was exquisite. And she was in his arms.

“Good morning,” he murmured softly then felt her shiver. His response was to pull her even closer. “What made you sleep on the balcony?”

“I-I don't know. I think I might have felt a little trapped.”

Such a revelation was unlike anything he'd ever heard. “Why? Why do you say that?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I'm not used to space travel, and all those months in crew quarters got to me.”

“Extended space travel isn't for everyone,” he said as he pulled the blanket around her and tried not to think about what he had to say. But news from last evening had to be relayed. Better that it came from him. “Laurel … I have to talk to you.”

“That sounds ominous,” she replied as she pushed away from him, sat up, and shook her hair back. She tightened her robe about her slender frame and stared at him expectantly.

“My father used his influence to move up Goll's trial. I … I think, for my sake and for the wellbeing of the entire family, he wants one of the last vamphieres associated with Astral's and Kyrie's deaths … dealt with.”

She took on a thoughtful expression. “Well … that's understandable. If you've been searching for him for years, your family would see the trial as closure. They probably want you home as much as you want this over.”

“Yes. But you must know what will be asked of you.”

She tucked one long strand behind her ear.

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to lock the door and stay there until the entire business was over. She wouldn't understand until she experienced the trial firsthand. How could she? But he still had to
tr
y
.
Her lack of aptitude when it came to such matters as justice on his world mustn't sway attempts at an explanation.

“You'll be asked to recount what happened the night you were attacked and your friends were killed. Can you imagine what that will entail?”

“I've testified before—”

“But not like this. Goll and anyone who supports or defends him will have the opportunity to do a cross-examination, if they wish to. Are you ready to relive that night on Earth again?”

She shook her head and the soft gaze she'd bestowed on awakening drifted away. He now witnessed that familiar hardness filter into her gaze. It was the very same severe expression she held in reserve for him and no one else.

“Do you think I'm incapable of this? Is that what you're saying?” she slowly asked.

“I think that … I might be able to petition the judges. It
might
be possible to set aside your testimony. We have many other witnesses to Goll's crimes, eyewitnesses from other planets. These are individuals who're fully aware of our justice system and how it—”

“If I have the right … and you've said I do … then I want to have my day in court. I'm owed that, Darius, and I won't be denied. If I have to, I'll go straight to your father to demand it!”