A Reluctant Companion (26 page)

Just thinking her name sent a sharp pain through his chest, and he had to clench his teeth to hide his reaction. He still couldn’t believe she had betrayed him. How long had she been working with the rebels? Tiernan couldn’t fathom that everything they’d shared had been a lie, but it was difficult to refute the proof.

Still, he found himself praying against all logic that Briggs could offer an explanation that made sense and exonerated Madison from plotting against him. The other man looked rough, with blood dripping from his mouth. One of his eyes was swollen shut. Apparently, his men had been eager to start the interrogation. Tiernan found he was beyond caring that they had beaten the prisoner.

He walked over to the man, looming over Briggs as he eyed him with disdain. “You’re the leader of the rebellion? What could you possibly hope to accomplish with your ragtag group of degenerates?”

“Your death.” Briggs laughed. “It can’t come soon enough.”

Tiernan punched him in the face, shocking himself a bit, but feeling little remorse. This man deserved much worse for Cleo’s death, along with the other two victims. “What are your plans?” When Briggs didn’t answer, he hit him again. “Are there more bombs?”

Briggs spat out a mouthful of blood that streamed across Tiernan’s boot. “You’re the high and mighty commander. Find out for yourself, Archer.”

Tiernan turned away, taking a deep breath to rein in his temper. He was a little more collected when he faced Briggs again. “I want to know who is in your organization. You will tell me your plans, and how you’ve plotted against the Federation. I want to know all about your cohorts.”

Briggs narrowed his good eye, somehow managing to chuckle even under the circumstances. “I think you just want to know about one in particular. I’m guessin’ you’re itching to find out how helpful Madi was to the cause.”

Tiernan inadvertently flinched when Briggs used the pet name he’d only ever heard Madison’s family call her before. He didn’t confirm Briggs words, but also didn’t deny them.

“She’s been real helpful, feeding us all kinds of information.” Leon spat again, streaming more blood and saliva before continuing. “We extracted her ‘cause she couldn’t take it no more. I was going to arrange to help her get out of the Federation.”

Tiernan didn’t betray his reaction to Briggs’s words, though he cringed and cried out inside at the confirmation of what Aidan had discovered. He turned away from Briggs, intent on leaving the room as quickly as possible and letting Aidan or the other soldiers finish the interrogation before they turned him over to the tribunal.

Unfortunately, Briggs wasn’t done yet. “Yeah, it was going to be real tough lettin’ her go after spending most of the day fucking her. No wonder she’s your favorite whore, Archer. That woman knows how to suck cock like—”

Tiernan didn’t allow him to finish the filthy statement. In a rage, he whirled around, hitting the bastard several more times until Aidan was there, a restraining hand on his arm.

“Sir, you’re going to kill him if you don’t stop.” Aidan shrugged. “I don’t particularly care, but I know you want to make a public example of him.”

He battled with his impulse to continue beating the other man for a long moment, until self-control returned. Tiernan nodded, taking a step back as he straightened his uniform. Without speaking, he left Briggs’s cell and walked down the hall toward where they were holding Madison. Confronting her in his current state wasn’t the wisest move he could make, but Tiernan couldn’t wait any longer.

He watched through the window for a moment, appalled to see she was digging at her legs, fingers stained with blood. At first, he thought she was mutilating herself for some reason, but as he finally opened the door and entered the room, he saw several strands of broken glass littering the table, all smeared with her blood. A fierce frown creased his face as he contemplated how she’d gotten the injuries. Heaven help the soldier responsible if one of his men had pushed her through glass.

He squashed that protective urge, ruthlessly reminding himself that she was a liar and a betrayer…and a cheat, if Briggs was telling the truth.

She paused in the process of trying to pry glass out of yet another wound, looking up at him with such blatant hope for a moment that he caught his breath. As her expression dimmed, taking on a note of anger, he let it out with a ragged exhalation and tried to brace himself to stand strong against her lies.

Madison looked up at him, the picture of wounded innocence, but he ignored her expression as he stopped a few feet from her, facing her across the table without taking the other metal chair.

“Why am I here?” she asked, voice laden with hurt.

Feigned hurt. She was clearly quite the actress. “For plotting to overthrow the government and for the murder of three people.”

Madison shook her head. “You can’t possibly believe I had anything to do with Cleo’s death, and I wasn’t with the rebels voluntarily. Briggs was going to kill me to send you a message.”

Tiernan arched a brow. “Vinny and Figg tell a different story.” Ignoring her betrayed look, he pressed on. “They both tell me you greeted one of the rebels and assured them you knew him.”

“I can explain.”

Her expression suddenly closed, and he could see her withdrawing into herself, clearly torn about something. Or searching for a slick explanation? He didn’t know and didn’t care. “Then do so,” he commanded in a hard voice, the one that she usually listened to when all else failed.

Madison flinched, and then shook her head. “I don’t think there’s any point in trying to defend myself. If you’ve found me guilty of treason because I was with the rebels, what can I do to prove I’m innocent?”

Tiernan let out a scathing laugh. “Aidan found your book.”

She frowned. “What book?”

“The one filled with meticulous information about my daily schedule, personal habits, and weaknesses.” He had to clench his hands to keep from reaching out to shake her as he relived the moment Aidan had handed him the leather-bound, handwritten journal with a look of deep regret. It had been the moment when any illusions about what he’d really had with Madison had crumbled to ash. “I think the most disturbing thing was the sketches and instructions for how to make dynamite.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you could do something so horrible.”

“I didn’t. I could never do that.” She slammed her hand on the table, crying out when she accidentally embedded a piece of glass in her palm.

It took everything he had not to reach out and take the injured hand in his, to pull out the glass and hold her until the pain faded. Instead, he regarded her impassively. “The journal is all the proof the tribunal will need.”

“Test my handwriting,” she threw out, clearly desperate. “I didn’t do anything like that.”

He ignored her protestations, too bitter to respond in a cool or unemotional manner. When he really wanted to reach across the table and pull her into his arms—though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss her or shake her—he couldn’t try to engage in verbal sparring and remain aloof. “Make the suggestion to your representative. Perhaps it will sway the tribunal.” He spoke with open mocking, knowing nothing would convince the tribunal she wasn’t involved once they saw the journal.

Madison trembled, her eyes huge in her face, as if the enormity of her situation had finally sunk in. Perhaps she’d realized her betrayal was a sin he couldn’t forgive, and she would be paying for it. Good. He refused to acknowledge the pang of regret that hit him upon recognizing her obvious fear.

“What happens now?” she asked in a scratchy voice.

He looked just beyond her, struggling to maintain a neutral tone. “A representative will be in tomorrow to help you prepare a defense, if you want to go that route. Your other option is to confess and hope for a lighter sentence.” He silently willed her to make that choice, even as he hated himself for the weakness.

She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything, so I have nothing to confess.”

He lost his hard-won control for just a moment. “You consider hopping into Briggs’s bed nothing?” Of all the things she’d done, that should have been the most trivial, but it ate at him in a way he couldn’t explain.

Her eyes widened. “I did what?”

“He told me all about what a good fuck you are, Madison, while letting it drop that you had requested extraction and were planning to flee the Federation, because you couldn’t keep up the pretense of being my companion any longer.” Tiernan feared some of his pain showed in his gaze when he asked, “How could you do this? At what point did you decide to seek revenge against me by joining the rebels? Was it the moment I threatened your family, or sometime after?”

She clamped her lips together, glaring at him. “You’ve already decided I’m guilty, so figure it out for yourself.”

He sighed. “That’s not my job. The tribunal will sort out the details.” Tiernan shook his head. “You’d do yourself a favor confessing now. If they order an interrogation, it will break you.”

She trembled, but her chin angled upward at a proud angle. “I won’t let it break me.” Her voice was cold when she asked, “When do I face the tribunal?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

Madison visibly flinched then. “That soon?”

He nodded, not letting himself pity her. She was refusing to confess and take a possibly lighter sentence, so she was bringing the suffering on herself—just as she had from the moment she chose to betray him by working with the rebels.

Her voice was thin. “What’s the punishment for treason and terrorism?”

Tiernan had to swallow so he could answer dispassionately. “Execution.”

A sharp laugh escaped her.

He frowned. “What’s so damned funny?”

“It’s ironic, I guess. When Aidan and the soldiers arrived, I thought they were there to save me from the rebels’ plan to execute me. Instead, it was only a change-of-venue.”

Tiernan couldn’t handle more of her lies. He turned away from her, striding across the room. Still, even in his hurt and anger, he couldn’t keep himself from pausing when she called his name in a plaintive tone. “What?” he asked, slowly turning.

“Please, can’t you do something? I can’t face the tribunal.”

He shook his head. “The tribunal operates independently to reduce corruption. I couldn’t commute your sentence if I wanted to.”

“But you don’t, do you?” Her eyes seemed to swim with tears. “You want me dead for what you believe I did, without any real proof.”

He started to turn again, but once more, she called his name. “What?” he asked again, letting his impatience show.

“Couldn’t you keep it from going to the tribunal?”

He lifted a shoulder. That was within his purview, but he refused to use his power as the commander to interfere with the process.

“Will you please? I’m begging you.”

The desperation lacing her tone almost moved him, but he shook his head. “No.”

She sagged forward, hugging her abdomen. “Fine. Can you at least delay my execution for a few months?” Her eyes were cold with anger, and the depth of betrayal in her expression when she looked up gave him his first pangs of doubt. “Unless you want the next Archer heir to die with me.”

Tiernan reeled back a step. “You’re lying.” How much more conniving could she get?

Madison looked away from him, shoulders sagging. “Just leave me alone. It’s for the best this way. I can’t stand the thought of you raising my baby to be a cold, unfeeling bastard like you.”

Tiernan opened the door with shaking hands, rushing through and slamming it behind him. He sought refuge in the nearest empty room, leaning his forehead against the wall as he drew in several deep breaths. She had to be lying. It couldn’t be true. His companions used the contraceptive tea. He’d seen her and Cleo drinking it several times. Not one of his other companions had ever fallen pregnant. She had to be lying, either stalling for time or hoping to convince him to pardon her crimes. If he did so, she’d no doubt suffer a “convenient” miscarriage.

Still, he had to know for certain. If she was pregnant with his baby, he couldn’t let her go before the tribunal and face death. His child was too important. He absolutely did not feel even a hint of relief at finding a compelling reason to intercede.

*****