Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1) (24 page)

“But you
aren’t
,” Zentra points out. “At some point, shouldn’t
you change the way you are. Sometime before the Others Take all of your
people?”

The thought makes me uncomfortable, and I’m not sure why. Kentra looks
up, a slightly savage smile turning her lips, and says, “Necessity breeds
change, Juhan’tr. Your sister needs you. And you have changed.”

The words are spoken softly, but they slam against me like a battering
ram. I feel again the press of the laser blade hidden in my boot, and flash to
the kuduva forms that are becoming as easy as breathing. She’s right; I’ve
changed. So much from when I first was Taken. It would never have occurred to
me, then, to fight back, to fight
first
.

“Can you blame me?” I ask, hoarsely, and they all stare at me. “I’ve
been stolen from my home, ripped from my sister, sold in the auction houses,
forced into a lie told to the entire galaxy. Can you say that I am wrong to
change? That it would not change anyone?”

Kentra shakes her head, her dark knotted hair slipping into her eyes.
“Of course not. It should change anyone. We’ve watched the Eleyi for years,
waiting for the Taking to change you. Wondering why it didn’t.”

For the first time, I feel a wash of guilt and shame and anger. Why
haven’t we adapted, fought back?

I open my mouth to say something, and the front of the house explodes.
Sadi screams my name and I catch her as the blast throws us backward, shielding
her from the debris.

Black-clad haj storm through the gaping hole of the Consuls home,
kicking the dead Renlarte aside as they arrow straight for us. For Sadi.

One of the Consul’s haj has recovered and lunges at the invaders. For a
moment, I can’t tell who is who as they fight, silver knives flickering in the
firelight. Then a knife is driven into one of their shoulders, and the haj’s
gasp of pain is drowned out by Kentra’s scream.

Another haj is slitting the throat of the Consuls personal guards, a
third stalking toward me and Sadi, who cowers behind me. The Consuls are being
contained by soldiers, and even though I can feel their psychic assault and see
the wounds they’ve dealt out, they aren’t going to stop these haj.

No one is.

Rage almost blinds me, rage at the circumstances that have put me here,
rage at the assassins who came here, never thinking an Eleyi would do anything
to stop them.

-
Enough.-

I throw my mind out, slamming into the haj, through their mental walls.
I apply a little pressure, and one of them falters, almost falling as I shatter
his walls. It’s surprisingly easy to wrap myself around his mind, to pick out
what I want: who paid them, who they came to kill. Not surprising—a Yalten queen
put out a contract on Sadi.

“Wha—what’s happening?” Sadi demands, and I wonder what it must look
like, the haj paused, blades ready to plunge into me, staring blankly ahead.
But I don’t answer.

“He’s controlling them,” Zentra says quietly.

“Eleyi can’t control minds,” Sadi spits out, and I laugh. I give the haj
closest to me a nudge. The assassin spins, throwing his blade with deadly
accuracy—into the eye of its fellow assassin.

Sadi screams a little, and I smile, coldly. “Not all of us. But some—some
Eleyi are strong enough to send armies against each other, strong enough to
control the elements.”

There’s a sharp gasp, a shiver of fear, and then her mental walls—walls
I’ve never pushed—slam into place and I can’t feel her.

“You will give them to us,” Kentra says, steel and fury in her voice. I
glance at the little girl, and my control slips a little to the fire.

“They came to kill her,” I say as the flames swell.

“Their lives are ours. The attack was against us.”

I pause.
 
I could let them go—let
the Consuls kill the assassins. Let them carry the blood. I glance at Sadi.

Her hair is falling around her face, her gorgeous dress torn, blood
dripping from a cut on her arm. My vision blurs, and I can’t breathe through
the anger choking me. I wrap around the two minds I’m still holding, and
yank
.

Kentra screams, a tiny startled noise, as their minds shatter, ground to
dust in my hands. They slump to the ground, and Sadi peers around me, her hand
hot on my wrist. I shiver. “What happened?”

-
If you tell her, I’ll kill
everyone in this house,-
I tell the Consuls, and they go very still,
staring at me.

“Nothing,” I say. “I put them to sleep. The Consuls can deal with them.”

Sadi eyes me, and I can feel the shadow of mistrust, but she doesn’t
push.

“You need to leave,” Zentra says, her voice remarkably steady. I nod,
and pull Sadi up behind me.

“Why are you letting us go?” Sadi asks, her eyes wide.

“Because of him,” Kentra says, standing. “He’s changed. And in an Eleyi,
that is rare enough that we won’t kill it. Use your gift well, Eleyi. Your
people need the change you can bring to them.”

“I don’t care about that,” I say. “I just want my sister.”

Kentra looks at us, yet past us somehow, and she nods. “And if you hold
on to that, maybe you can help both your sister and your people.”

The last haj escorts us back to the Leen, winding its way effortlessly
through the empty streets lit by the greenish light of Renlarte’s moon. Sadi is
rigid, stiff with tension, and I reach for her mind to calm her only to have
her slap me away wordlessly. As soon as we are within sight of the Leen, she
breaks into a run, her feet slapping the hard ground as she races something I can’t
explain away. Suppressing a sigh, I turn to the haj, offering a slight bow.
“Thank you. I’m sorry for that.”

As I turn away, it touches my wing and I tuck them close to my back in
an automatic gesture. “Your sister,” it says, its voice flat, “you honor her.
Even if Sadi does not say so. Even if your people do not agree.”

It spreads its arms, palms open and empty, a gesture of goodwill, before
it turns, gliding back into the darkness.

A rap on the bulkhead makes me stumble in my forms, and I twist to look
at Brando.

“What happened?” he asks furiously.

“Ask her,” I say, sliding back into the Tranquil stance. I flow evenly
into Winds on the Water.

He throws a sparring stick at me and I catch it. “I
did
. Now I’m
asking you.”

I pause, holding the sparring stick and testing Brando’s psyche. Not for
the first time, I wish he didn’t have such strong walls. -
Let me in,-
I
say and his eyes widen a fraction, just enough to tell me I’ve startled him.
For a long moment, I think he’ll refuse, think he’ll stalk away in silent
disgust. Then his eyes close, and a shudder racks his body. Slowly his walls
weaken and open. Cautiously, I reach out.

It’s so foreign. His thoughts are screaming that this is wrong, and as I
first brush his mind, he recoils, his walls wavering. Without thinking, I slip
past them, deeper. Where his emotion wars with duty and the sense of betrayal
that she loves a slave—even an honorable one—screams from every passing
thought. There is worry, concern that the security team with the Senator won’t
do as good a job as he needs and beyond that, a deep frustration that Sadi has
locked him so completely out of her life. And even deeper—he gasps, stumbling,
and I know I’ve gone too deep, but I can’t stop myself—is what I’m looking for.
It shines in the center of his psyche, radiating out to touch every thought and
action. A brilliant, abiding love for Sadi.

I ease back, aware suddenly of how intrusive my presence is. When I feel
his mental walls, he jerks, almost forcibly throwing me from his mind.

As I blink, clearing my head, Brando glares at me with quiet dislike.
“Did you find what you wanted, Eleyi?”

I nod. “Yes.”

His glare falters. For a split-second, he looks lost. And then it’s
gone. “What happened?”

“The Consuls are creepy,” I say, spreading and fanning my wings. “And
they are incredibly gifted psychically.”

He tenses. “They found out you’re her slave?”

“I think it’s safe to say Tentra knew that when he invited us to their
home. No. I think what disturbed Sadi was finding out how much I need Chosi.”

“She knew that,” he says.

“But she’s never heard it in my own words. Combine that with the fact
that I hate being her slave, hate this facade she’s forced us into, it’s no
surprise she’s moody.” I hesitate, wondering if I should tell him about the
attack. She told me not to, but he’s supposed to keep her safe.

 
Brando nods, distractedly. He
begins to turn away but hesitates.

“Will you talk to her?”

I slide into Striking Eagle, slowly transitioning to Winds on the Water,
and nod. “I don’t know that it will do any good, but I’ll try.”

The ship is quiet, Brando and Tin both asleep, when I rise from my bed.
I reach for her psyche, and find enough turmoil and fear to convince me she’s
awake. In the galley, I warm a large cup of hot chocolate, then add a little
mineral salt and stir in a bit of cream.

When I tap on her door, Sadi is quiet for so long I wonder if I read her
wrong—maybe she is asleep. Then I hear the soft whisper of the door as it
slides open and she regards me warily.

I extend the cup wordlessly, and I feel as much as see the stirring of
amusement as she takes it and retreats to the bed. She scoots to one side and I
take the silent invitation, settling next to her, wrapping an arm around her
shoulders and pulling her into me. The chocolate jostles and she makes a soft
noise of distress before sipping it.

How did this girl become so close to me that I could sit with her in
silence and calm both of us? That I know the way to slip past her anger and
worry and fear as effortlessly as I would do for Chosi’le? That I would kill
for her?

There it is—the truth I’ve been avoiding since we reached the Leen. For
all of my passive nature, I killed those haj. Without thinking. For Sadi.

The thought is disturbing and I push it away, struggling to hold onto my
anger instead. But it’s getting harder to do. “You want to tell me what has you
so upset?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Want to tell me what that was today?”

I look away. “It was nothing.” I pick up her free hand, holding it
between my own. It’s the first time I’ve touched her with no agenda, no
manipulation or game in mind. It makes me nervous, and I almost let go, but her
fingers curl around mine and I look up to see her staring at me, questions in
her dark eyes. “Do you think the Renlarte senators are children?” I ask.

“They aren’t,” she says, “The IPS doesn’t want them until their psychic
skills have begun to fade.” She’s quiet for a few minutes, sipping her
chocolate before she pauses and looks at it in surprise. “This is really good.”

I take it from her, putting it on the floor by the bed before catching
her other hand as I stare at her. “Sadi, talk to me.”

She takes a breath and shakes her head. “Someone tried to kill me. I’m a
little freaked out.”

I roll, pinning her to the bed with my weight. “I think you’re lying,” I
whisper into her ear. “I think you’re lying to me and yourself, because you
don’t want to face the truth.”

She gasps, twisting against my hold. “And what do you think the truth
is?” she snaps.

“You just realized how much Chosi means to me. You’re starting to get an
idea of how far I’ll go to get her back, and that’s terrifying.”

“How far will you go?” she demands suddenly. “What was that, Juhan?
Those haj should have killed us both—how did you stop them?”

I pull back, looking in her eyes. There’s something there, a challenge
that makes me smile and makes me want to kiss her. So I do. I dip into the
desire permeating her psyche, mixing with my own, because I can’t lie to
myself. Whatever else I feel, I want Sadiene Renult, with her laughing eyes, insane
schemes, and kisses to die for. So I kiss her.

And it’s real, for the first time. Hot and hungry and so
real.

Her mouth opens under mine, and I moan as her teeth close over my lower
lip, tugging.  Her hands are in my hair, ruffling it and making every
nerve fire as I drop down to kiss her neck, lingering a little on her pulse
beating crazily under her thin skin. She whimpers. And I pull back, pull free
of her mind and stare at her as she slowly processes I am no longer kissing
her.

Even though I want to.

“I’d do anything for Chosi’le, Sadi. And you should remember that you
love Brando, and he would do anything for you. He loves you.”

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t. Even if he
does, things change, Juhan. I’ve changed.”

I smile at her, a real smile, not one that is calculated to manipulate
or control her. “Sadi. I’m psychic. I know these things.”

Hope flares in her eyes and she takes a deep breath. But what she says
surprises me. “Do you hate me?”