Authors: Jess Granger

Beyond the Rain (2 page)

BOOK: Beyond the Rain

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Slave bands dug into his arms, waiting to inject him with whatever torturous poisons the Garulen needed to keep him submissive. As if thombs ecthis man had suffered. The thought made her sick. Was he even sane? She turned her attention back to her fox.

“It’s the stripes, isn’t it? You are a sucker for creatures with stripes.”

Vicca purred and swished her ringed tail.

“Com, establish perimeter. High alert.” Cyani waited for the affirmative
beep
then crept toward the Byralen.

“I’m here to help you,” she called to the man in the common language of the Union. As she moved, he continued to track her in spite of the blinders. “Hold still while I remove the slave bands.”

She inched forward and touched his foot. He sprang from the wall, snarling, his large hands grasping for her.

With agility and instincts born from generations of her warrior matriarchs, Cyani leapt over his shoulder, then rolled to the right, out of the reach of his chains.

He thrashed in his chains like a Xalen tiger, growling low in his throat. The slave bands on his arms beeped and whirred. The red lights of the bands flickered in the dim light, signaling an injection. The Byralen let out a low moan and staggered on his feet.

“No,” Cyani gasped. “What are they doing to you?” Cyani ran forward and caught the man before he collapsed to the ground. He winced as she lowered him to the floor. “I have to get you out of here. Com, switch to language of Garu.”

Hoping her hunch would work, she removed the ear set of her com and attached it to his ear. He twitched and growled, but his body remained limp. She pressed the release buttons on the severe-blinders. The black metal unhooked from his eye sockets and fell from his face.

His irises were a dark and swirling mix of black, violet, and glowing red. She tried not to look him in the eyes, unsure if he’d use them to try to hypnotize her. Her skin grew warm and tingled with a strange electric sensation anywhere he touched her.

She fought the immediate urge to push him away. His touch shook her resolve. She could almost feel the sting of a teaching whip across her calves. She was being impractical. He was injured. She didn’t have long to save him. He needed to trust her quickly.

“I’m trying to get you out of here,” she insisted in a less patient tone than she would have liked. She didn’t have time to waste.

Easing back, she tried to break her contact with him, but he grabbed her thigh. She waited for a response, desperately hoping he could understand her.

They remained motionless for a moment that stretched into an eternity.

BLINKING HIS BURNING EYES, SOREN’S VISION SLOWLY RETURNED TO FOCUS. His head pounded with the sickening tranquilizer polluting his blood.

A woman leaned over him, a soldier. He could see sharply in the dim light, but it would take a while to regain his sense of color. He needed to see the color of her eyes.

She tossed a dark braid of hair over her shoulder and studied the slave bands. Her face was hard but beautiful in a fierce way, and she wore some sort of machine that circled her eye. His head swam as he tried to think. A stabbing pain burst in his heart. He didn’t want to die like this. What color were her eyes?

She spoke to him, her voice low and commanding, almost as unyielding and determined as her expressionlood. Emaciated bodies walked through her memory like living skeletons, the soul stolen from their glassy, hopeless eyes. For five years she had battled the slavers and freed their victims. She had seen nothing but the vile repercussions of cultures greedy and vicious enough to feast on the demise of others.

She was ready for peace. When she returned to Azra, she’d take up her place in the temple and live a life of isolated meditation. No more blood, no more darkness, only clean, pure light. She wouldn’t have to fear for her life anymore, but that security came with a price. Pressure built in her chest as she thought about the long years of lonely silence she would have to endure.

If she made it home alive.

“This ship, can it contact your people?” Soren asked, snapping her back into the moment.
Control
, she needed control of herself and her situation. Her head throbbed as the onset of a post-shock-blast migraine unfurled behind her right eye. At least the pain would keep her nerves focused on something other than him.

“The electrical system is badly damaged, but it’s possible,” she explained. “We don’t have time to fix it. The Garulen will try to strip the ship of any technology they can.”

“We have to find a safe place.” His voice remained low, calm, even though his words sounded harsh with the choppy cadence of the Garulen language.

They scrambled through the hull to find Vicca hopping up and down on an overturned locker with a medical steri-cover in it. They also found a shadowsuit and skinboots.

Cyani shook out the loose-fitting medical suit meant to protect against biohazards. “Put this on for now. We’ll see if we can clean you up before you put on the shadowsuit. We have to hurry.” Cyani searched the med-bay and the supply lockers in the hall. She scooped various medical supplies into a sack, along with emergency rations, water, some tools, and some spare wiring.

“No,” he stated.

She turned just as he dropped the baggy steri-cover on the floor.

“What?” She didn’t mean to snap, but the migraine made her edgy.

“It’s bright white. I’ll be seen, and I won’t be able to move.” For as irritating as his logic was, he made a good but uncomfortable point.

“But you’re naked,” she felt obliged to point out.

“I’m used to it. I have no shame left.” He shrugged as he gathered the rest of the clothing and tucked it under his arm.

Cyani ran a shaking palm over her face. He might be used to it, but she certainly wasn’t. She didn’t deserve this. “We aren’t out of trouble yet. Let’s get out of here.”

They were working their way back toward the hatch when Soren paused.

“Is that the machine you used to kill the guards?” he asked, pointing to a weapons locker. She picked up a sono and held it to the activator on the wall. With a metallic
whirr
, it came to life.

“Do you know how to use one?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, but I’m sure I’ll enjoy figuring it out.”

“It has to be imprinted to you,” she explained. “Hold out your hand.”

Soren’s eyes glowed yellow again. He swallowed, his neck flexing, then held out his hand. Dried blood cracked on the rough skin of his palm. “This might stingk, along

“We can’t kill them. They’ll know we’re here. Close your eyes; they’re glowing. Don’t move,” she ordered, but her words barely penetrated the thick red haze of his hatred.

He growled low in his throat and balanced his weight, preparing to leap, to strike, to kill. He would feel their hot blood on his hands instead of his own.

“Soren,” she snapped in a hushed whisper. “Don’t.”

Just as he was about to unleash his fury, a searing pain sliced in his side and shoulder as he fell back into the shadows.

Cyani’s long limbs wrapped around his body in an impossible tangle as her face came close to his. She pressed her warm palm over his eyes, blinding him.

No!
He would not be blinded again.
Never again.
He reached through the pain of her twisted hold and ripped her hand from his face.

She’d pay for that.

He pushed forward and kissed her.

She gasped in shock, and he took her breath, took her power, her stubbornness, her control. This was his. Blight her, blight them. She didn’t want to be touched? A rot on it, he’d show her a touch. He’d make her feel it until she ached.

He kept his eyes shut and controlled the darkness as he used the sweet taste of her unyielding lips to keep the rage at bay. With adrenaline as a catalyst, he absorbed the deep pleasure of her body heat, and felt the violet spreading in his blood. The rush of col“What was that?” he asked.

“I detonated the ship,” she answered. “Now get up.”

“What?” he shouted at her.

“I set the auto destruct sequence for the ship. I don’t think we need to worry about those troops anymore.”

Exasperated, Soren watched her wipe her hands as if she hadn’t killed their only hope of escape and an entire squad of Garulen in one fell swoop.

“I thought you said we could use the ship to communicate with your people,” he accused. “Now, how are we going to escape?”

“We could use the ship to communicate. That’s why I had to destroy it. Union technology cannot fall into the hands of the Garulen. That is our primary order. It’s the only advantage we have over the hairy, ignorant genetic rejects.” She began to walk away, but he grabbed her by the shoulder. She snatched his hand and twisted it away.

Soren burned with his rage. “I don’t care about the Union or their rotting technology. All I care about is getting off of this blighted rock, and you destroyed our only hope.”

“My men will come for us. We just need to survive until they get here.” Cyani turned away from him again. He picked up his weapon from the ground, half tempted to use it.

“How long will that take?” he snapped.

“They won’t be able to unscramble the atmosphere shield for about three weeks,” she said over her shoulder, like their situation didn’t concern her at all.

“I can’t wait that long,” he protested. The drugs in his system would be gone long before they were rescued.

“Patience.” She studied the little glowing square floating in front of her eye. “We just have to wait.”

She had the luxury of waiting. He didn’t. Time had deadly consequences. If they didn’t escape soon, there’d be no hope for him. His body would rot on this lifeless rock. He stalked off through the ruins, driven by the urge to get away from her, away from everything.

“Where are you going?” she protested, jogging after him.

“I’m going to Vicca,” he growled.

“You don’t have a holo-map. You don’t know where she is.” She tried to reach him, but he surged ahead of her.

“Keep your infested technology. I can smell her.” He ignored her, ignored his pain, and ignored the new spectrum of light he could see after the kiss.

He reached a wall that had fallen back onto another, creating a small triangular entrance leading into deeper shadows.

Soren squeezed through the hole and felt his way down a flight of steps into a dark chamber. Water trickled nearby. He tried to let his eyes adjust as tiny blue lights from Vicca’s collar flew at him with a joyful bark. He caught her and struggled to keep her down as she squirmed in his arms.

A velvety tongue bathed his face as he sighed and stroked her soft back. “It’s good to see you, too,” he whispered to the fox.

Cyani entered, carrying a lamp that illuminated the room and the chip on her shoulder. She could chew on it for all he cared. He was still angry. Their shelter was nothing but four crumbling walls and a broken pipe hanging out of the far wall. Water trickled out of the pipe into a worn crack half clogged with mud. Vicca jumped down arl,” Cyani praised. The fox placed her paws on Cyani’s knee and panted. “Com, analyze water for purity and harmful contaminants.”

Cyani leaned against the wall near the stream of water and let it wash over her hands. “The water is safe, but it might not taste very good.” She gave her hands a quick rub on her pants then retreated to the darkest corner and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes.

The water could taste like pilt rat droppings, and he’d be grateful for it. He dragged himself to the pipe then looked back at Cyani, but her eyes were closed. Half of him wanted her to just leave. The other half wanted her to look at him.

He stepped under the tepid water and let it drizzle through his hair and over his skin. Placing his palms on the cool wall, he leaned his forehead against the hard stone and took several long, slow breaths, waiting for his heart to slow. With one hand he gently rubbed his arms, washing away the dried blood from the slave bands and his chains.

Pain and humiliation still clung to him; it had dug under his skin, crawled into his bones. He didn’t think he would ever get it out. He let his rough hands slide over the skin of his arms, embracing the warm pleasure of cleaning his skin through the burning sting of washing his deep wounds. At the same time, he felt revolted by his state of arousal, like his own body betrayed him.

Soren watched the blood and filth slide down in dark streams in the water. No matter how hard he rubbed, he couldn’t wash away the wounds; he never would.

His traitorous blood flowed hot in his veins. He felt heavy, aroused. For the first time it wasn’t solely the drugs. The deep tug in his abdomen gave him a new pain to ponder.

He just wanted to feel clean again.

A tiny curled lichen clung to a crack beneath the pipe. He gently touched it.
Life.
There was life here. He was not dead yet. He nudged the crack with his damp finger and exhaled on the tiny symbiotic plant. Two different beings, each one depending on the other to survive. How did it live in the darkness?

He would help it grow.

Cyani opened her eyes and saw Soren standing naked under the pipe with his back to her. She watched the water drip down the golden skin of his back, tracing his muscles with tiny rivulets and washing over the dark bands of skin crossing his shoulders and his darker bruises.

Once again a tingling wave of anticipation started deep in her abdomen and flared out with a slow, aching pulse. She exhaled and forced her eyes to the floor. She was an untouchable. She shouldn’t react, couldn’t let herself react. But then, no one was standing behind her wielding a teaching whip if she did. The feeling frightened, and worse, excited her.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. She had seen plenty of naked male species during her service, but they had all been starved slaves barely clinging to life. She had never seen a healthy one. Why was she so unsettled? Was it him, or her?

She pushed to her feet as heat flushed her cheeks again. She needed to secure the perimeter. Who was she trying to fool? She needed to get far away from Soren. She had to protect herself. The bloodline of her ancestor Cyrila the Rebel was notorious—talented, but notorious. She had to resist the rush of satisfaction that spread through her chest each time she did something she shouldn’t. She had been fighting it for half her life. It was a battle she had to win. She’d be back to her on occasion so she could drink, too.

“Who are you?” he asked after a long silence.

Cyani shifted. They hadn’t exactly had a proper introduction. “I’m Captain Cyani, team leader of the Union Army, Eleventh Patrol.” She placed her palm over her heart then extended it to him in the Union greeting. He just stared at her hand.

“You take it,” she whispered.

He placed his palm on his chest then brought it to hers. She squeezed it. The battle was over for now. It was time to rest and get to know her new compatriot.

“That’s a strange greeting.” His eyes turned a warm brown flickering with gold. It seemed the fight had drained out of him as well.

“How do you greet one another on Byra?” Settling on the floor, she crossed her legs, and Vicca hopped into her lap. The fox curled into a tight ball, tucked her face under her bushy tail, and purred. Soren eased back on his hip, his long legs spreading out like a trill cat lounging on a branch.

“Soren of Eln. It is my honor to know you.” He pressed his palms together then opened his hands up and out until his palms lay flat before her.

“You don’t touch?”

He shook his head. “On my planet, there are . . . Touching is sometimes complicated. There are social implications.”

She felt her face flush.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know much about your people. I think I like your greeting better. There are social complications to touching for me as well,” Cyani admitted while absentmindedly rubbing her calf. It felt good just to talk to someone. She had often set herself apart when her men got together and teased one another. She had longed to be a part of that circle. She hoped they were okay.

“How will we escape?” he asked, his lids lowering over his dark eyes.

“We’ll wait for my team.” She didn’t want to bring this up again. Her heart was just beginning to return to a normal beat.

“What’s your alternate plan?” he asked. “You don’t strike me as the type to sit and just wait. Especially when we have limited resources, our enemy surrounds us, and rescue is unlikely.”

She had enjoyed the brief reprieve from her worries. She should have known they would not leave her for long. He was right. She would have to try to think of something. Just not right now.

“Right now we need to rest. You don’t look well. How long have you been held captive?” she asked him, longing for that flicker of companionship again.

“I don’t know. I was just entering the beginning of my maturity when I was taken. I had seen seventeen or eighteen growing seasons. I can’t remember.”

“How old are you now?”

He glared at her, his eyes flashing red. “I don’t know.”

Cyani hung her head. She didn’t want to anger him again. She couldn’t take the consequences. Her lips still tingled.

Cyani activated her holo-map. The sensors she had placed glowed green. “Com, set perimeter sensors at five standard meters.”

“We could hide on a transport ship,” he suggested.

“And we’d end up on Krona. I’d rather take my chances here, thanks,” she huffed. “At least the Garulen are stupid. The Kronalen are scary.”

BOOK: Beyond the Rain

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