No Rules (18 page)

Gwella frowned and stared out at the trees. “It's heartbreaking for all involved. But necessary, something my daughter has failed to accept. She was born to fight and her father trained her well. When he died and Link and I decided she was old enough to come live with us, she fought us as though we were the enemy. Only when she procreated her first child did she settle down, but she still resents Link. I think she believes if he wasn't in the picture, I would have selected her father as my exclusive breeder.”

“In my culture, children want their parents to be together. Even if that isn't for the best.” Alison compressed her lips, determined not to reveal her own father's history of violence. Gwella didn't need any more fuel added to her “men are untrustworthy” fire.

Gwella rose, her gaze fixed in the distance as though she could see the lives she was responsible for beyond the trees. “Our system is not designed to nurture, but to breed warriors. We do what we must in order to survive. And right now, that means paperwork.”

“Lead the way.” Alison followed the empress, wondering if she would have made the same sacrifices as Gwella had, for the good of her people.

 

The assassin studied his instruments again, checking the frequency and the coding for Alison's shuttle. They hadn't docked, changed course, or abandoned ship. He would have picked up their trails at one of the space stations, heard tell of a whore with a remarkable shielding device that made her “safe.” Or Fenton's gambling, something guaranteed to piss off blowhard losers like Mig Larshe.

They had virtually disappeared from the scanner, which meant one of two things. Either it had been destroyed—the lack of space debris told him that was unlikely—or engulfed by a larger ship. The star cruiser they'd been traveling aboard hadn't altered its course, despite both shuttle suites disappearing, and he was sure they hadn't backtracked. He would have encountered them.

So an unknown third party had become involved. Intentional? Alison had no friends this far from Earth, and from his research on Fenton, he had never left his sector before. Pulling up the stats for the nearby star systems, he scrolled through the list of known species capable of space travel.

The throbbing started behind his left eye, making him aware of the fact he hadn't ingested anything in hours. Retrieving a bottle of water he downed it in one long pull before settling down with another. If not for his confounded physiological needs, he could work tirelessly. But his body always seemed to need something. Food, rest, water, sexual relief. He'd reached a level of achievement most humans would never attain, it seemed almost criminal to slow him up with such mundane limitations.

The proximity claxon shrilled and he whirled in his seat. Where the frack did that ship come from? He'd been scanning long range continuously; nothing should have come so close so fast.

The lights dimmed and his fingers flew over the instrument panel, checking to see the source of his power drain. It was coming from the other ship. Some sort of weapon designed to siphon off his weapons and routes of escape.

The comm panel went dark and he slammed his fists against the station, irate at this unacceptable failure. He'd kill every last soul aboard that ship and take it for his own if he had to. Death would be their penance for interfering with his business.

A thought occurred to him. Unless this was the same vessel that had taken Alison and Fenton. A power drain of that magnitude would explain why the tracking beacon was no longer functioning, why they had essentially fallen off the grid.

A smile crept over his face. This wasn't a setback; it was his reward. With any luck, Alison and her lover would be squatting in a cell aboard this very vessel, waiting for him to join them. He checked his pack, fingering the hood. Calm settled over him as he imagined Alison's screams as he degraded her lover before her eyes. Sitting back, he popped a protein pack. He'd need his strength, especially if it was a large crew he'd be forced to eliminate.

Steepling his fingers, he prepared to be boarded.

F
enton paused in the doorway. Flames danced in the grate and a pot of something delicious hung above it on an iron hook. Alison stared down into it, stirring with deep, even strokes. Her back was to him and he caught a few notes of whatever she was humming, sweetly melodic, her hips swishing to the beat only she could hear.

The sight of her there bewitched him, until a blast of cold air ripped up his back through his shirt and chased him inside toward her warmth.

She turned, a welcoming expression softening her face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Unstrapping Ari, he left her in the carrier, not wanting to wake her. “What are you making?”

“Me? Nothing. I couldn't cook if someone had a laser pistol aimed at my head. This is from Gwella and Link, a thank-you for all my help.”

“Help with what?” He moved closer and peered at the pot.

“Paperwork, mostly.” Dipping the spoon into the orange liquid, she turned and held it to his lips. “Try it.”

A moment of hesitation passed and their eyes met. Hers seemed to beg him to trust her, the same way he had done with her last night. Shoving all thoughts of poison aside he took the spoon between his lips. She grinned, clearly pleased, and turned back to the pot.

“I think the empress is lonely.”

Fenton turned to the bucket of water she must have carried up herself earlier. “Leaders are often isolated from those they govern,” he remarked, thinking of Xander.

“It's more than that. Gwella has had to sacrifice for her people, put her life on hold, and her relationship with her daughter has suffered. Dani is her heir, but from what I can tell they barely speak,” Alison commented as she ladled out two bowls of the vegetable stew.

Fenton poured them each a cup of water from yet another bucket. “They don't agree on what's best for the inhabitants of Daton Five. It's just politics.”

“Not to Gwella. She thinks it's personal, that Dani has something against her breeder.”

Fenton shuddered. “Please don't use that term. It's so . . .”

“Sexist? Derogatory?” Alison raised an eyebrow. “Is it really any worse than whore?”

He loomed over her chair, using his height to his advantage. “I thought we settled that last night.”

“Is anything ever really settled with us?” She lifted her chin, unyielding in her position. “Between us then, no demeaning labels. But we have to play our roles here as best we can.”

“Agreed.” He caressed her smooth cheek, his heart thundering at her nearness. Cradling her wrists he stroked her pulse with his thumb, delighting as it sped under his touch.

“The soup will be cold,” she whispered.

“To hell with the soup.” He'd wanted to kiss her since he walked through the door. Pressing her back against the wall he feathered his lips lightly over hers, gentling his baser urges that wanted to tear her clothes off and rut like a wild thing with her on the cold stone floor.

Her mouth molded to his, a sweet seal of lush softness and warmth more welcoming than any he'd ever known. His hands went to her hips, hers into his hair. They clung to each other as though it was the most natural thing in the universe.

Just when he was ready to lay her down on the pillows, she pulled away, her breathing ragged. Figuring she'd come up for air, he reached for her again, but this time her hands went to his chest and she shook her head. “We shouldn't.”

He frowned. “Because of your cycle?”

“It isn't that. Every time we sleep together it muddies the waters. We end up confused and disoriented. I want you to trust me, and you won't if you think I'm manipulating you with sex.”

Her words stunned him. He opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut again when he realized he didn't know what to say.

“See?” Though her tone was light, he could tell his lack of faith in her upset her. Turning back to the stove she retrieved the bowls. “Let's eat.”

He caught her wrist when she set the bowl down in front of him. “Alison, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” But it wasn't, not really. Her smile was wan. “I don't have any expectations here, Del, okay? I can take care of myself, so don't feel guilty for doing what you have to do.”

She tugged her arm back and he let her go, swamped with regret. Her argument made sense, but damn it all, he wanted her.

But not if it meant hurting her.

He frowned as he thought over what she'd said. “Have you ever manipulated me with sex?” he asked when she sat across from him.

Her cheeks turned pink. “Um, yeah.”

“When?” He took up the hollowed-out utensil that passed for a spoon and brought some soup to his lips.

Her flush deepened. “That first night. You were so standoffish and I really wanted to get under your skin so you'd take me with you. I would have given anything to get off Pental.”

He thought about it. “Yes, but you never told me that. I took you because you knew about the phase split, not because you asked me to. So you didn't succeed in manipulating me because I acted on my own.”

She blinked, obviously stunned he saw it that way. “Okay. What about when I bought out the ship's store in clothing?”

He took more soup. “Again, my choice. I could have said no to you at any time. I didn't want to. I wouldn't consider that being easily manipulated.”

Pushing her bowl aside, she folded her hands neatly on the table in front of her. “Are you saying I
can't
manipulate you?”

He thought about it as he scraped his bowl. “No. You could, if you employed the right tactics.”

“Such as?” She waited patiently.

He just looked at her. “If you believe I'll tell you how to handle me, you don't know me very well.”

She licked her lips and his cock shot hard as her gaze seemed to bore through the table, to his lap. Her voice was husky when she purred, “I think I know exactly how to handle you, Del.”

Sometimes he thought simply listening to her talk in that throaty tone could make him come.

A soft coo came from behind him. Ari was awake. Alison rose but he patted the air. “I've got her.”

“You've had her all day.”

Was she really arguing with him about which one of them should tend his niece? It was difficult not to envision the future with her, the way they shared responsibility for Ari. “Finish your dinner. If you still want to take over, then go for it.”

“I actually missed her today.” Alison said as he unfastened the straps of the carrier and changed her diaper. “Not the bodily functions or anything, but the weight of her. Her scent. Is that odd?”

“No, I know what you mean. When Gili first put her in stasis it felt like there was a giant hole in my life.”

“You never talk about your sister. Does Ari look like her?”

He studied his niece, who grunted, obviously working on soiling her fresh diaper. The bright blue eyes with a mischievous twinkle, the swirl of wispy dark hair, the rosebud mouth. “Yeah, she does.”

Alison's hand rested on his shoulder. “I'm sorry. You must miss her.”

Actually, he'd been feeling guilty that he hadn't missed looking after Gili. The youngest of the three siblings, she'd been spoiled and wild. She'd had a hard life, working as a camp follower and her death had been tragic, but Fenton could admit to the truth. “I loved her but she was so selfish. She took mind-altering drugs and stupid chances. And she never really looked after Ari, not until the end when she put her in stasis. And even that was selfish, because she didn't consult me.” A lump formed in his throat.

Alison lifted the bundle from his arms. “You took care of her, didn't you?”

“From the minute she was born.” Stroking the baby's cheek he lost himself in remembering. “It was like a second chance. I screwed up with Gili, lost her to her demons, but Ari . . . I've got to get it right with her.”

“Hey, look at me.”

He did and was shocked to see the fierceness in her eyes.

“Your sister made her own choices. You aren't responsible for what happened to her. Any more than you are for me, all right? I'm a grown-up and anyone who has ever tried to control me has wound up regretting it. Living is tough enough. Don't take on guilt for things not in your control.”

Alison had no idea if she'd actually gotten through to Fenton. He'd been quiet after her vehement speech, finishing what was left of the soup and disappearing into the bathroom. She hoped he was thinking about what she'd said, at least considering her words.

As she bounced Ari on her knee, she mulled over the wisdom behind refusing sex with him. It wasn't just about trust, though that was a weighty factor. She wanted to see if Del actually had feelings for her. Would he still want to be with her if she was no longer ready and willing whenever the mood struck him? He'd been correct the night before; he'd never treated her like a whore, but neither did he act as though they were really together. Alison had very few romantic relationships in her adult life. She didn't trust tender feelings as they always seemed to lead people to make unwise decisions. Exhibit A, her parents and their goatfuck of a marriage.

But if she was honest with herself, she'd already made dubious calls. The most obvious grunted as she soiled herself. Alison sighed, wishing she could take advantage of the whole matriarchal society and make Fenton wash all the diapers, but knowing she would do her share as the non-warrior women of this community did.

Ari gurgled happily and Alison found herself not minding the mess if the result of dealing with it was a happy baby. Once Ari was bundled up once more, Alison sat on the cushion nearest the fire and hummed a few bars of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” Ari seemed to like it, cooing happily so she sang it twice more. It made her think of that first kiss she'd shared with Fenton on the bridge under the meteor shower. For others it was a romantic image, but for her the memory was tainted by her own cowardice and desperation.

She'd chosen to become a pleasure companion because of the power she thought she would have over men. Had her body sculpted and contoured to perfection until she resembled a living, breathing Barbie doll, a walking fantasy. A fantasy any man could purchase for the right price.

Being desired held only a fleeting power, though. Once her john came, he had no further use for her. She closed her eyes, troubled by the memory of that first early morning walk of shame, with a bigger bank account and a label that wouldn't ever leave her.
Whore.
Someone who had sex for money. Many of the pleasure companions she knew reveled in the stigma, wore it like a badge. She'd imitated them, but deep down the truth lurked like a monster under the bed. She hadn't spread her legs because she liked sex with a variety of partners. She did it because she wasn't good at anything else and it was the only way she knew how to provide for herself.

That fear made her do ugly things, and if she were honest, it was why she was on Daton Five with Fenton's niece on her lap. Her choice to stay, to keep selling her body for money and security, had driven her up the corporate ladder. For a time the credits she'd earned had sated her need for security that no man could take away. Exactly where she wanted to be, or so she thought. She'd been relieved at first when she'd been promoted out of the field. Until she was brought into the loop about the imprisoned empaths the Illustra board used to manipulate their more powerful clients. By then she was in too deep with the company to walk away.

But what if I had?
The thought nagged her like an old fishwife. Could she have gotten out sooner, found something else to do, some other way to take care of herself? The what-if scenarios were driving her batshit crazy.

“You have a lovely singing voice.” Del stood beside her, dressed in his fresh change of clothing and smelling scrumptiously of clean male skin.

“She seems to like it.” She smiled down at Ari, whose lids drifted down.

“You're good with her.” He didn't bother to hide his surprise.

“I like children, always have. I just never wanted any of my own.”

He crouched beside her and she could feel his gaze searching her face in that way he had. “May I ask why?”

She shrugged as best she could with Ari in her arms. “Never wanted the responsibility.”

“There's more. I can see it in your face,” he stated. “You can tell me if you wish to unburden yourself.”

“Did you ever want children?” She turned the question around on him.

He shook his head. “I wouldn't want anyone to have to endure the phase split. Better the ability dies with me.”