Enemy Within (9 page)

Cullin Seaghdh crossed his arms. “You surprise me, Captain Idylle.”

Ari glanced at him. His prying stare, along with that frown, probably wrung confessions from stone. At least he hadn’t used his voice talent on her. Yet.

“Why haven’t you asked who we are? Or what we want?”

She locked down the navigational computer and then the interstellar drive at eighty percent. She stretched and sighed. “Because I already know. You’re Claugh nib Dovvyth military.” It was a guess, but a good one, she thought. TFC wasn’t officially at war with the Claugh nib Dovvyth, a tightly allied group of systems next to TFC, but the narrow band of Mining Guild space seemed to be all that kept the two governments from one another’s throats. Rumor had it that both militaries maintained active spying programs upon one another.

“Interesting theory.”

Ari nodded. The tension in his voice tipped her off. She’d put the pieces together correctly and he didn’t like that one bit.

“What makes you think I’m Claugh military?”

“Trade secret,” she said, meeting his gaze, and deeply regretting that she had no voice power of her own to turn upon him, save that she had no notion what she’d compel him to do. Scratch that. She did know. The muscles low in her abdomen clenched. Very bad idea.

He’d turned to face her, elbows on his knees, and chuckled. He leaned so close, she could feel the warmth of his body caressing her like a touch.

Reaction tingled through her blood. She pressed back in her seat. It didn’t help.

“And what am I after?” he prodded.

She forced herself to shrug. “You already told me I was your objective.”

“Did I?”

“When I called the ship, I’d assumed you wanted the command codes. You declined in favor of capturing me. Getting shot down by a Chekydran cruiser altered your priorities, but I assume your original mission parameter did not require my death.”

“My,” he drawled, that damnably cocky smile on his face. “If I didn’t already think so highly of you, I’d accuse you of doing it for me.”

Ari awarded him a withering glare.

He only chuckled again.

“You could have easily lifted without me,” she snapped.

“You forget your creative use of lockouts.”

“Cravuul dung. From what I’ve seen of your ability to handle the nav systems, I think we both know you could have bridged your way around my lockouts. You didn’t. You weren’t, in fact, even attempting those things. Not the actions of a man running for his and his crews’ lives. Therefore, you have orders.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Alexandria Rose Idylle,” he said, running fingertips across her right cheekbone. Heat trailed in the wake of that touch, jolting her upright. “Beautiful and bright,” he went on, his gaze too warm for her comfort. “Why would someone hire me to kill or capture you?”

Beautiful? She was too thin, too weak, still too broken from the past six months, yet Seaghdh’s appraisal broke open a pit of hunger in her heart. She wanted to be beautiful in his eyes.

She gasped and slammed the door on feeling anything at all. The man was a master manipulator. She could admit that to herself. He’d subtly maneuvered her, levering open her shields with his charm, and then he’d brought the conversation back around to the Chekydran. Fine. She still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

“You want the United Mining and Ore Processing Guild’s Silver City Station?” she said. “I’ll get you there in one piece. Beyond that, I am none of your business.”

“I’m making you my business.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he echoed. “Ari, I’ve got your ship, yet you refuse to let an illness we’ve already contracted murder us. You refuse to turn us over to the Chekydran. How could you imagine I wouldn’t be intrigued?”

Intrigued? Why did that word and his honestly perplexed tone cascade adrenaline into her system?

“You can run from me all you like,” Seaghdh said, straightening, “but I was here for that conversation with the Chekydran. You can’t pretend nothing happened, that you didn’t volunteer to walk out an air lock rather than be a prisoner again.”

She clenched her fists and struggled to draw a full breath around the pounding of her heart. “I’m already a prisoner again, Seaghdh. You’ve seen to that.”

He flinched in the process of reaching for her, his expression troubled. “Ari . . .”

“You have no right to questions!” she yelled, bolting to her feet and across the cockpit. “No right to pry! No right to pretend you give a damn about me or what happens to me! You hijacked my ship!” Right after the Chekydran had hijacked her life.

He stood slowly, watching her every move, sympathy and disquiet in his handsome face. “Talk to me.”

Not quite the same phrase the Chekydran captain had used during interrogation, but close enough. She felt her lip curl as defenses smashed into place. She stared at the man, saw the concern, the hope in his face, but she could not respond. She told herself that she’d had enough of being emotionally batted back and forth. Between her father, Seaghdh, and the Chekydran captain, she felt like a puck in a low-gravity Hazkyt game. The only things missing were the body slams and the blood.

“Talk to me,” he’d said.

She wished she could laugh.

“No.”

Ironic. She’d accused her father of trying to sidestep the past six months of her life. Now Cullin Seaghdh wanted to cut into it and into her. Hell of a time to find out her dad’s instinct to keep silent had been right.

“I was a Chekydran prisoner. You don’t need to know anything else. If I discuss my experience,” she said, shifting her shoulders to break up the tension there, “it will be with my family, not with you.”

“Why not?” he prodded, his gaze assessing.

“An operative from a rival military sent to kidnap me?” Ari snapped, cutting off his intake of breath. She strode back to piloting.

“This isn’t over, Ari.”

She dropped into her chair and glared at him. “I was debriefed, Captain. If you want an account of my imprisonment, hack into TFC’s military data stores and steal the file. Assuming you haven’t already.”

SEAGHDH
watched her pretend to ignore him as she reconfigured the view-screen sensors to show the star field in front of them. Then she ran a systems check. To his eye, it came back clean.

“There,” she said, pointing to the readout. “That’s our Chekydran shadow. Unless we deviate from standard procedure, they should follow us to the border and break off. They aren’t above attacking the occasional, one-off target, but they tolerate us because we give them access to our science data. They won’t cross the border and risk running into the fleet. You know TFC military, always spoiling for a fight.”

“I’m familiar with the behavior. You’ve learned to detect camouflaged Chekydran ships?” he marveled.

“Yes.”

“They have no idea?”

“We’d be dead if they did.”

Seaghdh leaned over her to peer at the data from a forward sensor that registered a miniscule spike in an ion particle and shook his head. “How in the Three Hells did you pick that reading out of the background radiation?”

He noted the tremor in her hand as she appended the data to the logs and had to resist the urge to touch her again.

“This is a science ship,” she said. “It’s our job to notice patterns and to put two and two together.”

Something his team had failed to do, it seemed. How had they missed what he’d begun to suspect was the strategic importance of the
Sen Ekir
and its crew? He grunted and retreated to the command chair behind her. If he didn’t get some distance, he’d completely lose his mind and have her in his arms again. “You make it sound so easy. You do know that ship is their best spy hunter?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I did. How do you?”

He stifled a grin. “Putting two and two together is your job, understanding who wants me dead is mine.”

“Speaking of putting two and two together.” She swung around to face him, speculation in the set of her features. “Systems are green and we’re in the lane for TFC space. You’ll want to brief my father and his crew. Scientists without information will do anything to get it. Give them information and they’ll spend all their time trying to dissect it.”

He studied her. “What do you suggest I tell them?”

“The truth.”

“And that would be?” he prompted, frowning.

“You’ll release the
Sen Ekir
and its crew once we reach Silver City.”

Seaghdh sat back in his chair and considered the notion. He’d been ordered to retrieve Ari, not her family and friends or their IntCom-built ship. He had no reason to hold them, unless he could use them to pry apart her defenses. Though to be fair, he suspected her walls weren’t as well constructed as she wanted to believe. “What makes you think . . .”

“You have no use for the
Sen Ekir
or a bunch of scientists.”

“Don’t I?”

Eyeing him, she lifted one shoulder. “Your government doesn’t take political prisoners, Captain.”

“What about you?”

“I do wonder how my kidnapping will be classified if I can’t be called a political prisoner. I am not technically a part of this crew. Telling them you’ll release them won’t be a lie.”

“You suggest I omit the fact that you won’t be with them.”

“It is a level of detail that will ensure my father works against you at every turn.”

He grinned. “I am pleased I’ve succeeded in charming you into joining us willingly, Captain Idylle.”

“I have few illusions, Seaghdh. I’m aware you found me before someone hired to kill me did.”

“No doubt about it,” he said. “The old charm is potent as ever.” He savored the surprised smile that softened her features.

“Tell me you intend to release the
Sen Ekir
and its crew unharmed once we reach Silver City and I’ll cooperate,” she shot.

“At least until your father and his crew are safely away?”

“I see you harbor few illusions of your own,” she said. “Good.”

He suppressed a chuckle, certain from the gleam in her eye that she enjoyed the verbal parry and riposte as much as he. It spurred him to tuck a tendril of come-hither power into his words. “You’ll play the game my way, Captain. I assure you.”

Her eyes widened and turned smoky.

He relished the rush of desire that twisted in his gut. Gods. He rubbed a hand down his face to keep from reaching out to her. Did she know what she did to him? Had she read some hint of her power over his senses? Leaning back in the command chair, he marshaled enough will to meet her gaze. He still had a job to do.

“What’s the likelihood that the scientists will cooperate?”

She shook her head. “You had a graphic demonstration of the likelihood when my father preferred to let you die.”

He mulled her statement as she watched him. Seaghdh wondered if she could see his plans shifting with each new tidbit of information she fed him.

Speculation moved behind her pale eyes. “Do you intend to tell me what is so important that your people are willing to risk war for my capture?”

He flinched. Straight for the jugular, despite her offhand tone. She wanted to trade. Information for information. Any other time, he’d take her up on the invitation. He’d give as little as he could and would enjoy eliciting as much as possible from her.

Anticipation sizzled through him, settling low in his belly. Cursing the tightening in his groin, he shifted and pushed the feeling away. They didn’t have time. Too many lives hinged on her part in whatever plan the Chekydran were executing. He had to stick to business, the business of extracting information, no matter the cost.

Hesitating, he realized she still watched him, her gaze probing. She’d shuttered her expression, and he couldn’t read her. If he pressed her now, she could fracture, and he’d have to resort to interrogation. Or she wouldn’t. She’d already surprised him with her strength, her intellect, and her dry wit. Why not give her the chance to do it again?

Aware he was pushing her past her comfort zone, he pinned her with a pointed stare. “I need your trust, Captain.”

She gaped at him. “Given the day I’ve had? Of course you do. No problem. Anything else while you’re daydreaming?”

He choked back disappointment. Neither of his scenarios had been correct. She hadn’t shattered or risen to meet his challenge. Instead, she’d retreated behind her barricades. He couldn’t let her stay there. Smoothing the frown from his face, he pressed, “Is the bridge secure?”

The troubled light in her eyes and crease in her forehead suggested she’d seen more in him than he’d wanted. She rose, crossed to communications, and spent a moment entering commands before locking down the station.

“The bridge is as secure as I can make it,” she said. “Audio logging disabled. We’re on video only.”

He caught the unsettled look on her face as she returned to piloting.