Bayne (4 page)

“It’s okay,” Bayne said again, pulled her into a one-armed embrace. “I’ve got you.”

“Why?”

It came out as a pitiful whine, but she truly didn’t understand. Bayne smiled at her, properly, and his eyes radiated warmth. Her stomach flipped oddly and all the breath in her body fled when he cupped her cheek with his good hand. He thumbed the moisture dry, then lifted her chin.

“Come on,” he ordered, his voice still quiet but his tone firm. “My guards will deal with Grieves. You and I need to talk.”

Malia winced, then caught the expression on his face. Regret creased the corners of his eyes, which were filled with a mute apology and something else; something that made her heart pound. He wasn’t angry with her. Far from it. The shift bewildered her.

“Just… talk?”

His mouth twitched. “To start with,” he amended. “Though I would imagine anything further hinges rather largely on that discussion.”

An olive branch, she realized. For a moment she stared at the floor. It was tempting to fling it back in his face, to push him away. It was no less than he deserved for his treatment of her before. But she was tired of fighting, tired of his blowing hot and cold and never knowing what she was going to get. It was why she’d run, but that had gotten her nowhere.

“Yes, rather.” Despite that, she let him curve his right arm around her waist. It was at once proprietary and comforting, but she leaned in with a muted sigh.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “For saving me. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. And you’re welcome.”

It was a start. Or at least she hoped it was.

Five

In truth, Bayne had expected more resistance from Malia. But as strong as she was, there had still had too much for her to deal with and, as she sagged against his side, he realized she was close to the breaking point. He held her tight and walked back to his chambers. He needed to get her somewhere quiet and safe, away from prying eyes and whispered rumors.

He closed the door, shutting the rest of the ship out, then turned to her. Worry shimmered in her blue-green eyes. He frowned.

“Malia…”

“Does it hurt?” She touched the ruin of his arm then pulled back, staring at the blood on her hand. “Oh.”

He grabbed her as she swayed and guided her to a low seat. “No,” he assured her. “It doesn’t. But it is not what I’m concerned about. Did you not think there might be dangers aboard the station?”

“No more than there was here.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

He flinched. “You have no need to apologize. I, on the other hand—”

“Yes.”

“I know. Malia, I have no hope that you will forgive me. I was so determined to prove I was more than what you believed me to be.” He snorted a humorless laugh. “But I am how I was created to be—a heartless monster.”

“Who cared enough to save me from Grieves?”

“One good deed does not absolve a life of death and destruction.”

She stared at her hands. He grabbed a cloth and cleaned the blood off her palm. She lifted her chin and gazed at him with large eyes. If only he could throw himself into their cool depths, let them wash away all the wrong of his life. But he could not, and it was unfair to imagine she could offer him redemption.

“It’s a start,” she whispered. “And you could have destroyed Terranis, had you chosen to. Even after you… I…” Her cheeks colored. “What I mean is there was nothing holding you. Not really. It matters that you chose to keep your word, Bayne.”

He scanned her face. Those wide eyes were fixed on his, her lips parted. Their lush plumpness tempted him, but he didn’t want to push her. Not now, and not ever. Pulling back before he caved in and kissed her, he cleared his throat.

“I will still keep it,” he told her. “But not under obligation. I… cannot hold you to your promise, Malia. Not when I have treated it with such disregard. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted… You’re free. I make no further claim on you.”

She blinked, her face paling. “But Terranis—”

“Still has thirteen days. I made that oath and I will keep it, no matter how foolish Grieves believes it to be. He will no doubt have more conniptions over this, but I am beyond caring about his or anyone else’s opinions.”

Malia bit her lip and looked down. “I… Are you sure? It seems a poor deal.”

“Taking you was a poor deal, at least for you.” He gazed at her bowed head, wondering how he could possibly make things right between them. “I cannot express how truly sorry I am, Malia. You might not believe that, but I am. It will not happen again.”

She lifted her chin and met his eyes. “I believe you,” she said, voice soft. “I’m not sure why, but I do. I think… I think you are a man of your word, if nothing else.”

Bayne let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

Her smile was shy. “I should be thanking you, given what you saved me from.” A troubled expression darkened her face. “What will happen to him now?”

“He will be dealt with, have no concern about that.”

“Can I ask you something? Would you please not kill him?”

He frowned. “Why do you wish me to spare his life? He would have hurt you simply to get at me. He would try again, given the opportunity.”

“Then you have to be the better man.” She reached and placed her hands over his good one. “I think you can do that, Bayne. It’s hard, because all I know is your reputation and… well, we won’t speak of that again, but there is something good in you.”

“I’m not so sure. I have been the Overlord so long I don’t know how to be anything else. And then there is this.” Frustration rose as he motioned at his useless arm. “I… My behavior toward you may have been colored by my last experience on Terranis.”

Her look was startled. “This happened on Terranis?”

“Yes.”

“May I?” She touched the remains of his jacket with tentative fingers.

“I suppose. But why would you–”

“The things at the station, the ones half mended? I taught myself, because no one else would.”

So he had truly underestimated her. “You would make a good mechanic.”

Malia blushed, a redder color than he’d seen on her face. She shot him another, wider smile, still shy but her eyes shone. A sharp sensation tugged at his gut.
God, but she is beautiful.

“Maybe,” she said, sliding his jacket off his shoulders. “Or maybe I fool myself. But I could try, if you would allow me to.”

There was no need, not when there was the medical bay just down the corridor, but every need to bridge the schism between Malia and himself. So he smiled at her and closed his fingers on her hand.

“I would like that.”

~ * ~

Without the leather of his jacket dampening the noises, Malia could hear the grind of gears, the faint whine of machinery under stress. Despite the damage, the arm was a wonder. Her fingers itched to touch, to explore, to mend the broken sections and make it perfect once again.

“It is incredible,” she murmured, all but stroking the cool metal. Her attention shifted to the empty socket and the damaged skin. “If I ignore this. Would you tell me what happened, or would you prefer not to talk about it?”

Bayne’s shrug caused the thinner steel struts to bend and flow. She hadn’t paid that much attention to his arm the last time it had been on display, but now she could see just how intricate the construction was.

“There is not much to tell, in truth,” he said. “I took a shuttle down instead of landing the ship. Something went wrong and we crashed. My arm was crushed by a fuel tank that happened to leak and then…” He closed his mouth and a muscle twitched in his jaw. The bleak expression told her more than words could ever have done.

“You were burned.” She touched his scarred chest gently. “Oh, Bayne.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Not long enough that you aren’t still carrying the ghosts.” Malia took a deep breath. “The river that runs by the city flows slowly most of the year. Except sometimes, the rain gathers in the mountains and… and rushes down. No one in the water stands a chance – they’re swept down and over the edge. Into the sea.” She swallowed and looked at him. “I was four and I wanted my ball back. My mother… she should have left it.”

She couldn’t continue. Warm fingers gripped hers. “I’m not the only one carrying ghosts.”

“No.”

“If you would rather I left my arm to the techs—”

“No.” Malia forced a smile onto her face. It came easier when she looked at him. “I want to.”

“Then there’s a panel on my work station,” Bayne told her. “On the right hand side, under the desk. Press it to open and there should be all the tools and parts that the repair will require.”

Gently tugging her hand free of his, Malia rose to her feet and went to the station. The panel popped open when she pressed it, revealing several containers of hard black plastic. She took one out and released the catch. Resting in the foam insert was a pair of pliers, several screwdrivers, and an adjustable wrench, all of the highest quality.

She looked at Bayne. “Are you sure about this? These seem rather expensive.”

A smile curved his mouth and creased the corners of his eyes; a sharp reminder of how handsome he was. Her stomach flipped over and she found herself flushing for no obvious reason.

“I’m sure, Malia.”

“Okay.”

She closed the case and returned to the chaise lounge, sitting on his left side so she was closer to his arm. Bayne reclined against the back of the seat, his right hand in his lap as he watched her with half-lidded eyes. It was the most relaxed she’d seen him and paradoxically, that made her edgy.

Throwing him a quick glance, Malia leaned forward and unclipped the panel on the front of the metal shoulder joint. A tangle of intricate wiring wound around the cogs and gears and disappeared into the puckered hollow of Bayne’s shoulder. So it worked by the same electrical impulses that once moved his real arm? Interesting.

She disconnected the wiring from the joint and the soft whine of broken gearing died off. Bayne’s only reaction was a slow, deep breath in. Glancing at his face, she caught the jut of his jaw, the tightening around his eyes; a visible struggle to trust that she would not abuse the position he’d let her take.

And she knew that it would be easy as anything to disable him right now. Not that she would. The fear she’d felt for him in the dead end still tasted copper on her tongue. No matter what he’d done and could do to her yet, she would not harm him.

Malia loosened the screws that held the main piston in place, then removed it. She cradled it in her left palm and examined the seal. The rubber had bubbled in the heat of the blast and leaked lubricant onto her hand. Wrinkling her nose at the greasy texture, she wiped her palm on the leg of her trousers.

“Do you have a replacement seal?” she asked, wondering where she could put the piston without losing its liquid contents.

“I should have. Here—give that to me while you check.”

She handed the piston over and went back to the parts’ storage, rooting through the various containers until she found a new seal. She flashed it at Bayne as if it was a prize and he grinned at her.

Damn it, but he is really good looking.
She quashed the notion as she seated herself back down, but the more she noticed little things about him, the harder it was to ignore… what? Was she actually attracted to him? As she made the repair on the piston, she let her mind wander and considered the possibilities.

On the surface, he was attractive. He bore his years well, his body slender and muscular, and carried his impairment with a natural grace that made her wish she’d know him before the crash, before pain and machinery had stripped away some of his humanity.

Or had they? She remembered what Grieves had said to her, about his efforts. Leaning in to inspect the strained spring that functioned as a tendon, Malia debated how to raise certain questions that Bayne might not wish to hear, never mind answer.

Holding the spring up, she said, “I can rewind this now, but it’d be a running repair and not a cure. I didn’t see any springs in amongst the spares.”

“I can order one to be delivered from the station,” he replied. “It won’t take more than a day.”

“Then I’ll do that, so at least your arm will move in the meantime. You might not have full movement with it, though.” She had to warn him about that and save herself an argument later. “And I did say I might not be all that good at this.”

“You’re doing fine.” His voice was soft and when she met his eyes, Malia found they were warm as he gazed back at her. He gave a slow smile. “Perfectly fine.”

Oh, he so did not mean her talents as a mechanic. She blushed and he chuckled. Throwing him a dark look, she chided, “Stop that.”

“Why, whatever have I done?”