Exile (4 page)

“Not if I am dead.”

“What?”

“I said: not if I am dead.”

Her words brought Kyr up short. She’d been talking about her impending rape and murder and he was blathering on about the revolution.

“You’ll stay with me tomorrow,” he said, still not entirely convinced. “He won’t dare touch you if you spend the entire day with me.”

Aja didn’t back down. “So sorry, Captain, that won’t solve anything. Chief Wyer will kill me. I’ve seen it. If not tomorrow, then the next day, or the next. In the end, he will betray you and your men. If he dies, he cannot betray you and we may survive. If I die, you may indeed escape this trap, but he will learn the true nature of your work with the Resistance and he will betray you at the first opportunity. Then you will die, along with all your men. Even if I am dead, your duty to the loyal men who serve with you requires that you kill the man. I tell you all this as a courtesy and because we share... Because I owe you a debt of gratitude. I could easily kill him myself and you would be none the wiser, but I felt I should come to you first.”

The captain paced in the small space. “Aja, you seem so cold blooded about this. It’s a man’s life we’re talking about.”

“It’s my life too,” she replied, rising to her feet. “Think what you will of me, but I am a realist. There is one other way.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I leave now. Give me enough coin so I can survive long enough to buy transport off this planet. You have the antidote. Take it to the Resistance. If my family has escaped, they will pay you well and you can recoup your losses.”

Aja turned on her heel. She opened the door to the cockpit and disappeared down the companionway.

Kyr heard the door to her cabin slide shut. He heard her turn the lock.

Stubborn woman. No, not woman. You’d do well to remember she’s a Princess of the Blood.

What if all the legends and stories are true?

The captain sat back down in the flight chair. What other abilities did she possess? She said she could kill Wyer if she chose to. Kyr didn’t doubt her ability to do just that. What else had she seen? She’d said regardless of her death, the Chief would betray him.

If the stories were true, it was no wonder the Coalition wanted her family dead. If she fell into the wrong hands, even into the wrong hands among the resistance fighters...

Kyr wondered if her sisters possessed the same powers or if Aja alone was gifted. It was rumored that the power of the Blood passed through the ruling Empress to her daughters, not to her sons, never to her sons.

Kyr ran a hand through his hair. Aja had been trying to talk to him about something terrible and he’d focused on how much help her ability would be to the Resistance. He’d been so caught up in his own excitement it hadn’t occurred to him how terrified she must be.

How did it feel to experience your own rape and murder in a man’s mind? To be aware of the many ways she could be used by both sides, the myriad ways her powers could be abused by ambitious men?

By the Gods he was brainless. He walked to the companionway and stared in the direction she’d gone. He would check on the Chief’s whereabouts and when he was certain they couldn’t be overheard, he’d speak with her. And he’d apologize for behaving like a boorish, insensitive, stupid, heedless darrok.

She was crying, damn it all to hells. Aja leaned back against her locked door. She refused, absolutely refused, to probe the captain’s mind. She hoped he would help her. If not, then she would kill Wyer and vanish, coin or no coin. She could easily steal whatever she needed to survive. That would be the best solution all around.

The captain had recognized her for what she was‌—‌power‌—‌for whomever controlled her or controlled the people she cared about. He might inadvertently turn her over to something worse than the Coalition. She’d seen that very real possibility among the many possible futures before them.

Idiot. I may as well be smoking cabba.

Living hand to mouth on this rock was not one of her destinies. It made her wonder, not for the first time, exactly how much control she had over the events in her life.

She’d seen the many paths before her, but choosing the right path? That had always been the question. Sometimes events unfolded in such a way it seemed as if her path had already been laid out and there was no choice about it. Doors to the future were so numerous that if placed end to end they would stretch almost to the edges of the universe.

Regardless of their number, Aja often felt as if she was destined to open certain doors.

She shook her head, trying to alter the direction of her thoughts. Aja knew the history of her Blood. Other women like her, ancestors with her power, had been locked away before they died. Not a pleasant way to spend one’s days. Perhaps death by virus would have been kinder.

Well, action was a good way to vanish her doubts. There was no time like the present to kill a man. Wyer was weak. She’d have no trouble luring him away from the ship.

Aja walked to her bunk and pulled the coverlet aside. She reached beneath the pad, into the small slice she’d made in the bottom. She removed the largest surgical knife and stashed it in the pocket on the front of her trouser leg. Too bad she didn’t have any underclothes. The knife would be safer in her binder.

She headed for the door, but her steps slowed. She had to give Wyer enough time to finish the repairs. She couldn’t get rid of the man until he’d completed his work.

Aja wanted to smack herself. What a cold hard bitch she truly was. She ripped the scalpel out of her pocket and hurled it across the room. The blade stuck in the soft saffawood chest. Her mother had taught her to be patient. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

Aja lay down on her bed and closed her eyes. She allowed her mind to drift, tuning out distractions, searching for Coalition ships, for the militia, for a transport, anything. She searched for safe passage off this Gods forsaken place.

“T
he woman needs to die,” said the Chief. “She’ll get us killed.”

Captain Aram sat behind his desk. He’d handed the Chief his half-share of the coin. Aram raised his eyebrows, but otherwise kept his face expressionless. The man was as clear about his position as Aja had been about hers.

“Look, whoever is paying for her, this third party, he has no idea we actually got her. For all he knows, we did fry in the upper atmosphere, if he even knows that much. What is she, anyway, some rich fucker’s ishat? With the amount he offered, he can buy two or even three women. Just tell him she didn’t survive. She was killed during the escape. Bring the corpse to prove it. She’ll get us killed, Captain. I swear it. If you don’t want to finish her, then let me take her out into the desert and drop her. I’ll do it. You can keep your hands clean and nobody’s the wiser.”

Kyr forced himself to relax his clenched fists
. If the son of a whore doesn’t shut up, I’ll gut him right here.
“She stays and we deliver her as promised.” He changed the subject. “How are the repairs coming?”

He watched the Chief purse his thin lips in disgust. “Be done by tomorrow, late afternoon or early evening. But, uh, I need a few more parts. I saw a supply depot not too far away, no guards. I can take the bird and pick them up.

Isn’t that what Aja had said? Wyer would claim he needed to take the bird to pick up a few spare parts? Kyr’s respect for the woman grew. “You need Mr. Fedd to go with you for protection?”

“Nah, should be a quick job. I noticed the stuff sitting free and clear the other day when we were scouting for gravity skin. I’ll get Davi started on the repairs and then I’ll take off. Be back in no time to finish the job and we can get the hells out of here. The sooner that woman is off the ship, the better I’ll feel.”

“She’s valuable cargo. Remember that, Mr. Wyer. We’ll make as much money on this one transport as we make in an entire year.”

“Ain’t hardly worth it,” Wyer muttered.

“Keep it to yourself.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Chief Wyer left the captain’s quarters, closing the door behind him.

Bloody murderous bastard.

Aja was correct. The man had to die. And he would have to kill him. Kyr wasn’t about to let a woman do his dirty work even if she was capable of it. Kyr suspected Aja was more than capable.

He walked over to his bunk and pulled his pistol from beneath the pillow, checking to see that every chamber was loaded. He hoped the depth of the ravine would muffle the sound. A laze would be silent, but the weapon would leave a power signature. He could use a knife, but that was messy, unpleasant work. Kyr didn’t want the man to suffer. He just wanted him dead as quickly and as neatly as possible.

Fuck Wyer for forcing his hand like this.

Kyr slipped the gun back beneath his pillow and tossed the coverlet over the top. He noticed a dark rust-brown stain on the bed clothes. It looked like blood. Kyr ran his fingers over it, pulled the material to his nose and inhaled. He tasted a metallic tang in his mouth. Blood.

It was blood, the smell was unmistakable. His? Had he bled when Aja injected the antidote? Yes, from the site on his shoulder, but it had bled for just a moment, no more. And it had only been a drop or two. Kyr lifted his sleeve. He saw nothing. The site of the injection had healed over. It wasn’t even red. Besides, he’d been leaning against his desk when she’d given him the antidote and he hadn’t crawled into bed until several hours later.

He pulled the coverlet from the bed and checked the sheet for more red stains. A small amount of blood had seeped through and dyed a portion of the sheet a pale scarlet.

Kyr gave himself the once over. Other than a few bruises, he hadn’t been injured during their escape.

Well, it wasn’t important. What was important was an overdue conversation with the Princess. And his abject apology.