Bonded (13 page)

She trailed behind Aric, easing her hold on his mind just enough to let him take the initiative on where they walked. She could not guide his actions in this. Though she had been on the ship a couple of times before, she’d paid little attention to its layout. Only its value and the value of the business conducted on it had mattered.

He led her to his quarters. Looked startled when she followed him inside. Clearly, he and Benj were not roommates. She did not belong here now. A quick probe of his pliant mind produced the information she needed. Though he was an easy target, the strain of forcing his thoughts out of his brain made beads of sweat gather at her brow. Mind reading had never been her particular talent. It required a different kind of magic than what she was used to, the power needed to control and bend. “Sorry,” she said now, careful to keep her voice neutral. “Wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

A minor tweak of the spell and he believed her completely. He reached toward the trunk standing on its short end: a makeshift closet for hanging his meager supply of clothing. He shed his rumpled shirt in one quick, hasty motion. “I’ll see you in the shop in a few minutes. Boss man’ll probably want to strangle us both for being late.”

“I’ll tell him it’s your fault.” She flashed a quick grin, then ducked out of the room. She knew she was equally disheveled and should probably change too. It would no doubt draw far too much attention to appear in wrinkled clothing. Attention she didn’t need.

Ethlinda called up the map of the ship she’d just plucked from Aric’s mind. Perhaps she would check the bridge, assess the current state of her quarry. It was always good to know what her target was up to.

She slipped a hand into one of the many buttoned pockets on her stolen trousers. The syringes she’d bought from the booth catering to off-worlder medicines were still secure, filled with the potion she knew best. The needles were capped so she wouldn’t stab herself before she reached the captain.

She was not at all familiar with these instruments. They were not normally used on Lorus. According to the merchant, if inserted into a vein correctly, it would make the dose far more effective, and in less time, than potions fed through normal means.

Besides, she could hardly prepare any drinks for Jaren. Now or ever again. Her ex-husband was many things, but unfortunately, he was no simpleminded fool. He would have learned from the past.

As she hesitated in the corridor, she caught sight of a familiar figure moving through the crew quarters. The little slave girl.

Taimi.

She barely recognized her: all dressed up in men’s clothing and without the appropriate collar around her neck. Ethlinda was used to her servants being invisible, but nothing about the girl would allow her to blend into the background now.

Though a shadow of sorrow marred her expression, there was also something else. A spark of individuality, a show of her spirit.

Ethlinda didn’t like it.

It seemed Jaren had been true to his high-flown Alliance ideals and freed the girl. But it was more than her change in status that bothered Ethlinda. Her former servant appeared to have adjusted to her freedom far too easily.

No born slave should be that free. Ever.

It was simply against the order of things. The way they had always been. The way they always should be.

Ethlinda thought back again to the scene between the captain and the former slave, out in the alleyway. Had it been just a day ago? Or two?

She supposed it didn’t matter. That incident made it clear the two were intimate. Not lovers, necessarily. Even Jaren had better sense than that. But perhaps the girl would lead her to where she wanted to go.

* * * *

“Good morning, Taimi. Welcome aboard.”

The warmth of the greeting startled her. Too many years of scrutiny and criticism left her unprepared for kindness. Her face flushed. “T-Thank you, Doctor.”

He waved one graceful hand at the crates of vacuum-packed herbs and jars of potions lining one wall of the infirmary. “Captain Caradoc said these are the tools you are most experienced with using, but I’m not at all familiar with the medical practices of the Lorus system. Will you show me?”

A spasm of pain sliced through her heart at the mention of Jaren’s name. So much for her resolve. She would be numb soon. Indifferent to the very sound of his name. She would.

The comprehension in the old doctor’s eyes made it clear he had seen her lapse, but he didn’t push for an explanation. It was most kind of him. “What would you like to know?”

“Identification and classification, to start with. There will be time to delve into deeper details once this voyage is underway.” Her confusion must have been as easy to read as the rest of her expressions. He smiled in his kindly way, without pity or patronization. “Fortunately, our presence is mainly a precautionary measure. There is rarely trouble, unless we run into pirates or experience some unfortunate accident in the machine shops or the engine room.”

Relief flooded her. Though Jaren seemed to believe she was completely capable of doing this job, it would be nice not to put her skills to the test immediately. She was in no fit mental state for that now.

She pried open the top of one of the crates.

Gazing at the contents, she was struck by the oddest sensation: there was no scent. The controlled air swirling through the ship was constantly sanitized, but that didn’t entirely account for the lack of smell. The herbs were vacuum-packed in airtight, clear packets to ensure they lasted well beyond their ordinary shelf life, their distinctive odors trapped inside the packaging.

She handed the top packet to the doctor. He examined the formerly purple leaves—now dried to almost black—and the fuzzy stems and small flowers browned in preservation.

Taimi gave him the plant’s name in the Lorus tongue, then switched back to what the Alliance called the “common language,” used for diplomacy and trade, to explain the herb’s use. “It is always dried whole. The most common use is for…” She paused, fumbling through the translation from the language she had grown up with, to the language taught to her during her adolescence. Slaves were only schooled in off-world languages when absolutely necessary. “Heart irregularities. Brewed into a tea, it helps to regulate and support the proper rhythm.”

“Similar to digitalis.” The doctor unlocked one of the wall cabinets and showed her the hundreds of vials of clear liquid, sorted by name. He pointed out the specific one he believed was the equivalent. “We don’t use this for tea; we inject it directly into the veins.”

“That’s much more efficient.” The vial took up one tenth the space of the single packet of leaves; she assumed each of those glass containers held multiple doses.

“True.” He nodded back at the crate. “It’s good to have both available, just in case. What’s next?”

They continued through the case, exchanging information wherever there appeared to be matches, but some had no synthesized equivalent.

Like the last species of herb in this particular container.

Taimi picked up one of the packets. Her gaze grew unfocused as she turned it over and over in her hands, pausing to trace every line of every visible leaf.

Memories flooded her mind: the smirk on Lady Ethlinda’s face when she’d declared herself a widow before ordering Taimi to dispose of ”the body.” The paleness of Jaren’s skin as he lay in contorted agony on his marriage bed, his heartbeat faint and slow, his breathing so shallow it had been easy to mistake him for dead.

A fully loyal slave would have pointed out the mistake to her mistress. Or finished him off herself. But the captain had already wound his way into Taimi’s heart, and there was no way she would have been able to harm him.

Instead, she’d hidden him in the catacombs beneath her mistress’s mountain estate. Nursed him back to health using this very plant. Ethlinda’s favorite poison was a concoction derived from the venom and internal organs of a slimy water creature with many arms and bright blue spots; the antidote only grew on the shores of the seas the creature inhabited.

Ironically, it was her former mistress who’d taught Taimi about this plant. For years, Lady Ethlinda had farmed the creatures on the seaside estate inherited from her first husband, and her greatest fear was an accidental poisoning. She had drilled Taimi relentlessly on the symptoms such a mistake would leave behind, and made sure she was well versed in the preservation and use of the herbal antidote.

Taimi, like everyone else, suspected Ethlinda had used the same poison on her other husbands. The way each had died was far too similar for mere coincidence, but there was no solid proof. The venom left no trace behind after the victim died.

An odd habit of Ethlinda’s also added strength to Taimi’s suspicions. She clearly recalled how her former mistress had insisted on preparing a nightly drink for each spouse—something a noblewoman would not normally condescend to do. The entire household found it odd, but as they were all slaves, it had hardly been their place to question their mistress.

“Taimi?” The doctor’s voice pierced her thoughts, forcing her back to the present.

“Sorry. I was just…thinking.” She gave the doctor the name of the herb. Hesitated.

She didn’t know why she’d purchased this plant. It had only one specific purpose: antitoxin According to expert testimony at her ex-mistress’s trial, the animal that produced the toxin was native to Lorus and not generally traded to off-worlders. And since Jaren had made it clear they would not be returning again…

“Are you all right?” The wrinkles at the corners of the doctor’s eyes deepened as he frowned.

“Yes.” She should put this down and move on to the next crate. Better still, she could admit her mistake and ask the doctor to help her discard it before the ship lifted off. Taimi traced the outline of the leaves again.

No.

Call her a fool, but she couldn’t do that. Not yet. “I was just thinking about the last time I used this.”

The doctor took the packet out of her hands and studied the leaves with a degree of interest not displayed for any of the other herbs. “Captain Caradoc told me a little of your history together.”

“He has?” Her face flushed as she wondered exactly what Jaren had told the older man.

“When explaining your qualifications for this job, he told me he owes you his life. He didn’t go into detail, except to say it involved poison.” He gave the packet a brief tap. “Perhaps this is the antidote?”

How had he guessed? Taimi gazed into those old eyes; eyes that saw far too much and made her feel completely exposed. “Yes. It is.”

* * * *

The door to the bridge opened, followed by the distinctively heavy steps of his first mate. Jaren locked his gaze on the gauges in front of him, hoping against hope that Dev would understand he was in no mood to talk. “Engine at seventy percent. Continue powering up.”

“What are you doing here, Captain?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? We all want to get off this system as soon as possible.”

“You mean
you
want to.” Having someone know him as well as his first mate did was a distinct disadvantage at times. Dev crossed his beefy arms over his chest and glared. “I’m surprised you’re not with Taimi.”

“I’m working, and so is she.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you passed the takeoff procedures on to me.” Dev crooked a brow. “
And
since a little birdie told me you two shared a room during the festival, I really didn’t think you would want to be here.”

“There were no other vacancies.” Jaren frowned at the gauges, though the instruments were telling him exactly what they were supposed to. “And she’s only staying in my quarters until we off-load some of the cargo. You know that.”

“I know bullshit when I hear it.” Dev snorted. “I saw the way you look at her. You can’t deny you want her.”

“What does that have to do with anything? I told you, she’s off-limits.” He tightened his fingers around the arms of his chair until his knuckles whitened. “She’s part of the crew now.”

“I know. You keep saying that. I assumed it was just an excuse to warn me off.”

“Dev.”

“Come on, Jaren. How long have I known you now? Eight, nine years? I haven’t seen you this worked up over a woman since—”

“Exactly.” Jaren interrupted before Dev could say the name out loud. Not that he was afraid to hear it, but nearby crew members were straining to hear every word. “I’ve made a fool of myself once. I’m not about to do it again.”

Dev snorted. “You’re lying to yourself. Taimi is nothing like
her
, and you know that better than anyone. What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing.” Denial came easy. Almost too easy.

“She’s crazy about you. Even a blind man can see that.”

“I know.” And that was part of the problem. He did care about Taimi. He cared about her a great deal. If he were honest, he might even admit his feelings for her were stronger than those for his ex-wife. Different, but stronger. Which meant she had more power over him than Ethlinda ever did.

The power to hurt him.

And that scared him.
Really
scared him.

The tumult of emotions was tied up in his guilt. Guilt that had flared higher after her unintentional confession.

She believed she was in love with him. He didn’t doubt that. But he also knew he didn’t deserve it.

Lights on the panel in front of him flared, drawing his attention back to the task at hand. “Strap in,” he said. “We’re taking off.”

He slid the throttle forward, and the
Marama
gave a violent shudder as it struggled to free itself from the pull of the Lorus system. An apt metaphor of his situation, in many ways. And Taimi’s.

It seemed she was never far from his thoughts, no matter how he tried. One memory was particularly persistent: of the last time they’d tried to leave Lorus. The takeoff had been difficult for her, and though she was no longer confined to skirts… He should check on her. Make sure she was all right.

They were free of the atmosphere. Jaren carefully schooled his expression and words to neutrality. “Take over here. There’s something I need to do.”