Empress Game: The Empress Game Trilogy Book 1 (9 page)

She nodded to indicate she was ready and he lunged forward, driving into her with the force of a maglev train, knocking her on her ass.

Ugh. Nice to know she’d been right about the bull-rush.

She ignored the hand-up he offered and sprang to her feet, resisting the urge to rub her stinging rump.

First point, Malkor.

When he tried the same thing a second time, she was ready. She sidestepped, swept his leg and shoved him between the shoulder blades as he passed.
Wham
—one IDC agent face-down on the mat.

Now
that
was satisfying.
Did she need time to rest?
Pfft.

He sprang to his feet, looking surprised enough that she almost laughed. “Got that out of your system?” she asked. “Maybe we can use some actual technique now?”

He smiled, a little ruefully. “I suppose so.” He readied himself again and this time Kayla settled in for a more serious contest. He was big, but not heavy on his feet. He had a lightness to his step that she could admire. They circled, trading blows here and there, testing each other.

“I watched you with Janeen,” he said, “how you controlled that fight. Not every opponent is going to be shorter than you.” He double-stepped and made a grab for her wrist but she evaded and sent him back with a kick to the ribs.

“I know that.” She looked him in the eyes, watching his footwork, waiting for an off-balance step.

“Do you? You’re used to the women on Altair Tri, but they grow them big on some of the Sovereign Planets.” He shifted stances, flowing from one to the next.

She followed his movements. “Are you
lecturing
me?” His guard was excellent, there didn’t seem to be an opening.

“Let’s call it ‘helping.’”

“You can take your help and—”

He shifted to a weaker stance to dodge a fist to the temple and she had him on his counter. He attacked off his lead foot and as he stepped forward she blocked, turned into him and wrapped an arm behind his back. She gripped the back of his belt in one hand, his forearm in the other and bent forward at the knees, using his own force to hoist him on to her back for a nanosecond. She straightened her legs and torqued away from him at the waist, throwing him off one hip.

Stars, he was solid. She’d barely gotten him off his feet long enough to down him.

“—shove it up your ass,” she finished, panting with more effort than she wanted to admit to.

He rolled with it when he hit the mat and she heard a chuckle. “So you don’t like advice. Noted.” He took a minute to catch his breath, and this time when he pushed to his feet he looked ready for a serious fight. A leave-them-on-the-floor-wondering-where-half-their-teeth-went kind of fight.

Now we’re talking.

It was something of a joy to her to be sparring again. To be fighting with her full capabilities without fear of killing or maiming someone, without the jeers of spectators deafening her, without the threat of death looming over every move. There was something pure in it.

Just her, him, and the overwhelming need to kick someone’s ass.

Her mentor might have bided her time and waited for the perfect opening, but Kayla had never been that patient. She took the fight to Malkor in a series of spinning kicks, backing him around the ring as he moved to avoid them. He had her backing off just as quickly with his return kicks. One kick glanced off her block with bone-jarring force and she grinned. He showed the true measure of his respect for her skills by coming at her full-force.

Kayla closed with him, trading punches, overhand strikes and elbows almost faster than they could block, and all the while she looked for the chance to hook his lead leg and pull it out from under him. When the opening came, she stepped into it, only to be clocked in the face by a knifehand that hit her cheek so hard her world blanked for a second. Then, he tilted.

No, she tilted, as he hooked
her
leg out from under
her
and flipped her on her ass.

He leaned over her where she lay on her back. “You okay?”

Pain pulsed in her cheek and her head hurt from striking the mat. Man, that was going to need some ice. “I like your order of operations there: score the point,
then
ask if I’m okay.”

His lips quirked. “Priorities.”

She took the hand-up he offered, letting him anchor her while she got to her feet.

“Last point,” he said. “You still up for it?”

She dropped back into a ready stance. “If you ask me if I’m okay one more time, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”

He shook his head, getting set in his own stance. “That’s dirty.”

“You’ll have it coming.”

They circled, more cautious than before. She considered and rejected techniques she normally used. Several depended on a superior height and reach to be most effective. With his higher center of gravity, how good was his balance? Exactly how much stronger was he? Did he rely more on his upper or lower body? These were things she didn’t know how to gauge in a man.

They traded a few blows, deflected automatically as they each tried to find an opening.

Maybe if she… She shook her head.

How about… That wouldn’t work either.

Last point. She’d be damned if she’d lose this fight.

He feinted in her direction and she skittered away. His gaze followed her every step, practically radiating anticipation as he threw jabs with enough speed to daze her should they connect. She offered a half-hearted side-piercing kick to keep him at bay, not finding anything to work with.

Time ticked away in the fight, and like always for her, the minutes lost were painful. She should have won by now.
Patience
, she imagined her mentor muttering.

Frutt patience.

She stabbed with her right, a spearhand to the throat intended to knock the breath from him. He caught her wrist, yanking her off-balance and spinning her around so her arm wrapped across her own neck. When she tried to elbow him in the ribs he pinned it between them by snaking his other arm around her waist and pulling her tight to him. He placed his knee at the back of hers, ready to push forward and take her leg out from under her in a second.

He pulled down on her right wrist, the arm across her throat tilting her head back until it rested against his shoulder. With her head trapped she couldn’t drop her weight and slip out of his grasp. With his knee behind hers she couldn’t risk lifting her free leg to kick back because he’d take her down in an instant.

His breath at her ear rasped in time with hers. She tensed for one last struggle and his grip tightened.

“Don’t make me down you, Shadow.”

He was definitely quicker than she’d anticipated—something to remember when their alliance eventually dissolved.

If she could get a heel strike off on his instep, she might surprise him just enough to break free. There was a less than one percent chance of that, she reasoned, but a
ro’haar
never surrendered willingly. She shifted her weight in preparation for the move and he sensed it. His knee slammed into the back of hers, crumpling her leg. She pitched all her weight into the forward motion of her collapse and dragged him down with her until they crashed into the ground, his weight crushing her into the mat.

“I win,” he said.

The wind had been knocked from her lungs in the fall and it took her a second to reply. “How do you figure?” she croaked out.

“I downed you, last point to me.” He rolled off of her into a sitting position.

She took a few deeper breaths before pushing herself up to squat on her haunches. “If you’ll notice, we’re both down.”

“Ah, but I came out on top.”

“A technicality.” She wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. “I never concede defeat on a technicality.” He’d plastered her to the mat on that one and they both knew it. A lucky break, on his part. If he hadn’t caught her spearhand before it struck his throat he’d have been bent over, gasping for air when she kneed him in the face and knocked him to the ground. This close and she’d have won outright.

“You’re calling a draw, then?” he asked with a smile.

She smiled in return, but of course he couldn’t see it with her
ashk
covering her mouth. “Seems only fair.”

Quiet settled between them while they caught their breath. His arms were marked up and down with red welts from blocking her attacks, and she was no less marked by him. It had been an even fight. A satisfying fight, she realized with surprise.

She rose and stepped away from him at the unsettling thought. He got to his feet, clearly catching something of her mood change.

“We don’t have to be adversaries,” he said.

“What would you call us, then?” The question hung so long she thought he wouldn’t answer.

“Would partners be so far out of the question?”

She arched a brow. Partners. With this man?
With the IDC
, she reminded herself.

“Allies, at least,” he said, with a hint of persuasion. “We’re in this together now, working toward the same goal.”

True. And as much as she hated to admit it, she needed him. Needed his credits and his promise of transportation to Wyrd Space. Needed to trust him, if only a little, now that she’d thrown in her lot with his. She’d need an ally once they landed on Falanar.

She reached for the ties that held her
ashk
in place, fingers hesitant as she worked at the knots. Five years she had worn this mask like a shield, five years it had protected her. She took a deep breath as the last knot slipped free and the black fabric fell to the ground. “Allies it is.”

* * *

Their unexpected camaraderie lasted until they arrived at the wing that housed the octet.

“Why don’t we—” Malkor started, but she shut out his voice. The doors to her room down the corridor were open.

She exploded into a sprint to the doorway.

“Corinth!”

Corinth sat at the complink terminal, a single IDC agent looming over him. She launched herself at the agent and tackled her to the ground. Kayla drew a kris from its thigh sheath and pressed it to the agent’s throat in one smooth motion.

“What are you doing here!” she shouted.

“Shadow!”

::Kayla!::

Malkor and Corinth’s voices overlapped with matching tones of alarm, heard only distantly.

“Why are you here!” She recognized the agent as Rigger, probably the most benign of the octet. She pinned the woman’s body beneath hers with her weight and drew back her free hand to punch Rigger when she didn’t answer quickly enough. Someone grabbed Kayla’s elbow from behind before she could, but that wasn’t what stopped her.

Corinth stopped her. He was there. Ephemeral. He hadn’t moved, but she
felt
him, pushing on her with no more force than the weight of a stone in her hand.

His telekinetic powers had emerged? And he used them to protect the IDC agent?

She looked up, searching Corinth for any sign of harm.

::It’s all right, Kayla, I’m fine. She wasn’t trying to hurt me.::

The fingers on her elbow tightened like a vise. “Shadow.”

She looked down at Rigger, who seemed stunned more than anything else.

::It’s okay, please don’t hurt her.::

She jerked her arm from Malkor’s grasp and leveraged herself off of Rigger, dagger still in hand.

Rigger sprang to her feet as quickly. “What the frutt was that all about?” She brought one hand to her neck, testing for blood. “Are you insane, woman?” She looked at Malkor. “You have to be frutting kidding me with this bullshit. I was just talking to the kid.”

“Why?” Malkor barked.

“I thought he might be lonely.” Rigger turned her attention back to Kayla. “I was keeping him company, which I would have explained if you’d given me two seconds before attacking, you banshee.”

::She means it, Kayla.::

Corinth’s voice cut off her angry retort. “How did you get in?” Kayla asked instead.

Rigger pointed to Corinth. “He—”

::I let her in.::

“You did what?!”

::Kayla—::

“Everyone out. Now.” Her gaze locked on her brother. She felt the agents hesitate, then make their way out, eyes on her the whole way. Malkor murmured, “We’ll talk later,” as he passed. The doors to her room shut after them, leaving silence in their wake.

Kayla’s bloodlust raged. Her heartbeat slammed her ribs and she gripped her kris until her knuckles turned white. Even seeing Corinth there, unmolested, couldn’t quell the choking fear. An IDC agent had been here, in her room, with her
il’haar
while she’d left him alone. Anything could have happened.

::She didn’t want to hurt me.::

“You don’t know that.”

Corinth was again eight years old in her mind, clinging to her in terror when she’d found him beneath the bodies of his twin and his aunt. They’d died saving him, and he’d watched every second.

The image dissolved and she saw him as he was now: thirteen, nervous, but unafraid.

::Yes, I do. She doesn’t know to guard her thoughts from me. When she commed the door I sensed only curiosity and an underlying empathy, nothing more.::

“You can’t trust them, Corinth.”

::You’re the one who told me I need to have faith in my abilities. Should I not have trusted myself?::

He needed her validation now, her approval. She wanted to protest that her instincts were superior and that he should rely on hers, but that wouldn’t be fair. He was a Wyrd. He had his psi powers even if hers were gone. Something had made him trust Rigger enough to open the door.

She sheathed her dagger, drawing a deep breath and trying to expel her adrenaline on the exhale. Her hands shook the slightest bit.

“What did she want, then?”

::She thought I might be lonely. She honestly came to look in on me.::

“Nothing more?”

He shook his head. ::She was… nice. And!:: He scurried back to the complink. ::She gave me access to more of the ship’s database!::

Kayla scoffed, her tension easing. “You could have gotten that on your own.”

::I don’t know, she had some pretty sophisticated counter-looping blocking the pathway algorithms. They siphoned the code into nanosections that intersected at irregular intervals to form the basecode for the security. It reminds me of the time Vayne—:: He looked over his shoulder at her. ::Sorry.::