Pirate Nemesis (Telepathic Space Pirates Book 1) (25 page)

As he’d expected, his dog wasn’t happy with this order. “Boss, you can’t go over there alone. Let me go with you. Titus can stay here.”

You are both staying here.
Reaper took a moment to make sure his words were on a tight thread, just between him and Knox.
My brother’s wife is here. I will not leave her unprotected. Titus is piloting the ship. You will guard Sanah, Doc, and the others.

Boss…

Reaper didn’t bother responding.
Titus, get the dropship prepped.

He wasn’t going to risk everyone on board by connecting the corvette directly to the derelict. A Viking dropship was connected to the ship’s undercarriage for planetfall when the corvette remained in orbit. It would work just as well as a shuttle.

“Nik,” Sanah said softly. “Be careful.”

He spared her a glance. “I’m getting our people back.

B
y the time
the dropship docked with the derelict, any feelings of worry Reaper had over his dogs or Sanah were distant, meaningless emotion. It was comfortable, being the unfeeling Killer. Far preferable to experiencing emotions he had no idea how to process. Cannon would probably have some typically annoying observation about that, but fortunately the king was not here.

He pushed ahead with his mind, mentally searching the ship. He found no trace of his dogs, or Mason’s men. It was as though they’d ceased to exist. Like the crew that had so mysteriously disappeared. Reaper no longer believed that. Someone, or something, was aboard this vessel.

As with the space station weeks ago, surprise was not on his side. There was no way to quietly dock with the ship, to wait for the airlock to pressurize. He half expected something to happen when he boarded, but nothing did. Stepping out of the airlock, it looked exactly like the dead ship it pretended to be. The barest hint of light reflected from the ceiling, a permanent, natural illumination built into the nano-graph of the structure. Reaper passed his hand over one wall to be sure, but no map lit up beneath the touch. Power was still off. But the air remained breathable, circulating through filters. The temperature, while low, was warm enough to support life. Gravity was working.

Convenient for whoever was here.

Reaper didn’t plan to search deck by deck and room by room. He made his way directly to the command deck. He was done with games. With no engines or propulsion, the stabilizers also appeared to be out, which meant the ship tilted at an awkward slant. It wouldn’t have been a problem without the gravity generators, but it made for a challenge with them. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, but in a fight it would add a challenging environmental element.

The command deck was empty. He could see both his corvette and
Revenant
through the viewport, reminding him to send Knox and Titus an update as he looked over the frigate’s controls. He’d never been aboard a
Nova
-class ship before, but it wasn’t too difficult to find the basics.

He sent a quick mental probe out, but still found nothing. No sign of either his men or Mason’s. There was one entrance to the command deck, and an emergency hatch. He sealed it with a portable gravitational generator exactly like the one that had held Mercy captive when he’d found her. With only one way in or out, he triggered the ship’s start up sequence. It didn’t surprise him at all when it actually worked.

The engines spooling up made the deck vibrate beneath his feet. Basic propulsion came back online, and the ship righted itself, a dizzying tilt that put everything back as it should be.

It wouldn’t be long now. Reaper stood in the center of the room, and waited.

He felt her before he saw her. He knew it would be someone powerful, perhaps even as powerful as Treon, to pull off such a large scale mental illusion. Making a ship of this size appear empty when it wasn’t, both physically and mentally, was no small trick. He let the ice take him until his inner self reflected the cold vacuum of space. So deeply into the Killer that not even surprise registered when the hatch opened, and a small figure stepped through. A girl.

She wore a basic flight suit, the kind that could offer a short period of protection if a pilot ended up adrift in space without power. But no helmet covered her head, and her face was young. Reaper placed her at barely fifteen. Perhaps even younger. Curiosity filled her face as she eased into the room, enhancing the child-like impression.

Watching the girl approach, Reaper was struck by two things. One, how closely she resembled Mercy. The bone structure, bronze skin, dark hair and green eyes were a striking and familiar combination. Two, the power that exuded from her was so strong it washed heat through him, chasing away the chill that was as much a part of him as breathing. He felt it leech away, was powerless to stop it. The harder he tried, the faster it seemed to leave him.

For the first time in his life, he could not call upon his Talent. He couldn’t see how to kill her. He realized he didn’t
want
to kill her. He felt an instant desire to please her. If she didn’t desire him to kill, he wouldn’t. It was that simple.

She came close enough to invade his personal space, a daunting move for most people, but especially for someone as young as she appeared. She didn’t flinch, didn’t seem afraid at all. She frowned as she studied him, and a sudden desire to do whatever it took to make her happy flooded him. Reaper clenched his teeth, fighting the pull he felt.

There was no doubt in his mind. This girl was a queen.

He fought to access his Talent, the exertion breaking a cold sweat over his skin.

The girl glanced to the side, and the moment her regard left him, he felt the faintest sense of control returning. But it wasn’t enough.

“I was expecting more,” she said, sounding confused.

More what?
Reaper followed her gaze and saw a familiar scarred face. The face that haunted Mercy’s dreams. Willem Frain stepped through the hatch and fully into the room. Reaper waited for the expected wash of cold, but it never came. Frain had a permanent place on his mental kill list. Seeing him should have brought his Talent to the surface, but nothing happened.

“Even the vaunted Killers are powerless before a true queen,” Frain said. He favored Reaper with a mocking smile as he crossed to stand beside the girl. “What do you think?” This question he directed at Reaper. He lifted a strand of her hair, fingering it lightly. “An improvement, wouldn’t you say? It took some doing, overwriting her DNA with Mercy’s, but we couldn’t wait around for a new clone to grow. We needed a functioning queen now. Yesterday.”

Reaper was no scientist, but something about that wasn’t right. It made no sense.

“You cannot create a queen.” He knew this; the pirates’ own scientists had been trying for years to make Talented children in a lab, but Talent required the mental connection of child to mother – which developed in the womb – to nurture and grow. Well, with the rare exception of whatever Mercy had done to her friend that had awakened latent Talent. He knew Doc and Sanah were studying that closely, but they had no answers yet.

Willem raised an eyebrow. “True. But you
can
clone one. That is, cloning was the basis for what we did. We already had a queen, you see. One created and cloned from various genetic samples, implanted in a Talented mother until birth. But the samples were old, degraded. Three hundred years is a long time, and not all of the old stasis units were intact when we found them. We did the best we could, but the queen we produced was unstable.” He favored the girl with a look that Reaper could only describe as possessive. “It became more obvious as she grew. We had to put her in stasis until we could find a solution. New genetic material to use.” He smiled, looking back at Reaper. “How fortunate that we found Mercy.”

Not the word Reaper would have chosen. It was odd, but being in the girl’s presence seemed to split his thoughts from his desires. He could think for himself, but he could not seem to act on those thoughts. Every tiny inflection from her inspired an answering emotion within him, and those emotions dictated what he could and could not do. He wondered if what he was afforded him some protection, or if all people experienced this dichotomy when a queen unleashed her full presence.

Perhaps that was why only a Killer had a chance to truly kill a queen. If he could just figure out how to override his emotions, he might be able to act. He didn’t need his Talent to kill. Something that others often forgot.

The girl sat in one of the empty chairs. “Are we done here? Can we finally leave?” She sounded like a bored teenager.

Willem stroked a hand over her hair. “Yes, Rani. We are finally done here. I think we have everything we need.” He paused, favoring Reaper with a cutting smile. “Well, we do have one more thing we must do, but then we are free to leave.”

Reaper stared back at Frain without wavering. He imagined severing his spine. There were quicker ways to kill him, surely, but that one held a particular satisfaction. And without his Talent, he was free to imagine whatever he wished.

Frain’s smile faded. “Rani, perhaps it would be best if you told this man your expectations. Reaper, is it? Supposed to strike fear in the hearts of your enemies, I suppose?”

“No. It’s just a name they gave me.” Reaper tried to reach out to Titus and Knox, to tell them to leave and take
Revenant
with them. He found he could not do even that much. It was as though an impenetrable wall separated him from his Talent.

The girl frowned at him. “That’s a funny name. Who gave it to you?”

Reaper switched his gaze to her. When her face paled and fear crept into her eyes, he knew that his expression reflected what he wanted to do, whether he was the Killer right now or not.

“Everyone,” he said.

“Enough.” Frain’s hand fell onto Rani’s shoulder and tightened there. “Rani, tell him.”

She had to take a deep breath before she spoke. “You will only access your Talent or act violently if I order it.” Her voice was infused with more than words. Her Talent and will reached inside of Reaper until his subconscious mind agreed with her. His body relaxed.

“Excellent,” Frain said, sounding insufferably pleased. “Let’s get the rest of our visitors under your influence, my dear, and then we can be done with this façade and go.”

Words still came easily to Reaper despite everything. “Where?”

Frain’s smile grew again. “Home,” he said. “We’re taking you home. You should be pleased, Reaper. Veritas is finally done fighting against you pirates. We’re going to accept you into the fold.”

M
ercy spent
the first few days of Reaper’s absence learning about the administrative side of pirate society. It seemed impossible, but the pirates had their own government and economy, like any other system. Cannon spoke with her for hours, explaining exactly what he did as King, and what the Core did as the balance to that. He went deeper into the power hierarchy, trying to tell her how a King could never replace what a Queen did for them. But Mercy avoided that subject with the skill of someone who’d managed to keep her own secrets for years. She asked what it meant to be sponsoring two boys on the cusp of adulthood, and ignored any references to taking power as queen. Cannon seemed to understand that she wasn’t ready for that yet, so he didn't push. Thank the Mother.

She’d barely finished her conversation with Cannon when Treon stopped by for a visit that seemed impromptu at first, but definitely wasn’t. She had to admit to a certain wariness where both of Reaper’s brothers were concerned. Dem unnerved her on a primal level. She still didn’t understand why he frightened her so much, when Reaper didn’t. Maybe because she knew he’d hunted her once.

But Treon bothered her in a way that was more difficult to pinpoint. Was it his arrogance? Maybe, but she didn’t think so. She’d known plenty of arrogant smugglers in her time.

“Treon,” she said after she let him in and he still hadn’t admitted the reason for his visit. “What can I do for you?”

He gave her a self-deprecating smile she didn’t believe for an instant. “It is more what I can do for you, I think. We should talk.”

“About?” She couldn’t help but be wary.

“My brother, and consorts.”

Surprised and a little appalled, Mercy laughed. “What? Does everyone know we slept together?”

“Secrets don’t stay secret for long on this ship.” Treon waved a dismissive hand. He sat in one of her chairs, making himself comfortable. “For all that he is my brother, Reaper is not good relationship material, particularly for a queen.”

“Because he’s a Killer.”

“Yes.” Treon sighed. “Has anyone explained consorts to you yet?”

“I know what they are. I can’t remember what world started the practice, but consorts are basically when a relationship has multiple husbands and wives.”

“I think the strictest definition depends on the world or colony, and their laws. But our society has embraced this practice whole heartedly. It has only become more prevalent in the time since the virus.”

Mercy thought about that for a minute.

“You don’t have enough women. I’m guessing at least some women will end up with consorts instead of a single husband or wife.”

He inclined his head. “Exactly. It is a practice encouraged since we lost so many, though we still have those who prefer single pairings. But consorts have another layer here: power.”

She frowned.

“Allow me to explain,” said Treon. “Our hierarchy is largely decided by power. Who has it and wields it most effectively. It is how positions are won and kept. Carefully chosen alliances can help propel one much further than one could otherwise manage alone.”

“I know all of this.” Mercy waved an impatient hand. He was just repeating things she and Cannon talked about.

“Consorts,” Treon said, emphasizing the word and ignoring her protest, “are a part of that. It is a contract of commitment, and all who look at, say, a woman and her consorts, will look at the power each of them hold as a whole.”

Ah.
That went beyond what Cannon had shared with her. Mercy sat down. “You’re saying if this hypothetical woman surrounded herself with powerful consorts, people would look at her as being more dangerous than if she were alone.”

“Just so. Our mother used this strategy quite effectively. For her consorts, she chose two Killers and a powerful telepath. Collectively, our family was one of the few largely safe from Lilith’s machinations and threats, because even the Queen had reason to fear what they could accomplish.”

“I see.” Mercy’s brow furrowed as she thought this over. She had never seriously considered a multiple partner arrangement. If she was being honest, she’d never considered
any
arrangement, ever. Her life staying low and largely on the run was not conducive to trust and romantic partners.

She’d had exactly one semi-serious relationship, when she was twenty-one. He was a smuggler – no real surprise there – and their runs often overlapped. It was fun, at first. Hadrian loved adventure. He loved the romantic aspects of defying Commonwealth law and helping out colonists at the same time. Young, good looking, he’d been something of a thrill seeker, and for a while Mercy had thought she loved him.

But then they’d happened to be in dock at Befarr together, enjoying a little down time between runs. It was a remote water system that exported water to half the Commonwealth, sporting a few resorts on its islands for weary space jockeys. It started out idyllic. Sun, sand, swimming, and sex. On the third day, a news bulletin hit the waves about a local man suspected of being Talented. Hadrian spent half an hour ranting about what a threat people like that were, how he couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t just turn themselves in rather than live with being a danger to everyone around them. What had been the best vacation Mercy ever had turned into an excruciating nightmare. She couldn’t run right after his outburst. She’d had to go on, pretending everything was fine to allay any suspicions. Letting him touch her, even though she couldn’t stand being in the same room with him.

Finding out he’d been cheating with several other women just gave her the excuse she needed to break things off. After that, Mercy had avoided entanglements.

Since being with Reaper, she’d allowed herself to think about the possibility of a future. She was both anxious and excited to see him again, to talk. Maybe she was jumping into things, but she didn’t think so. It felt like she’d known Reaper for much longer than just a few weeks. And she’d never felt so close to anyone, not even Atrea. Sharing her thoughts with Reaper added a level of intimacy level she’d only experienced with her mother, though with Reaper it was an entirely different experience.

“Okay,” she said after a long silence. Treon had patiently waited while she worked everything through, saying nothing. “I still don’t get it. It sounds to me like a smart woman chooses her consorts carefully, not just for how she feels about them, but so the family will be protected and safe.”

“True,” said Treon.

“Not everyone is going to be happy to have a queen around, after Lilith.”

“Also true.”

“So, whether I have a husband or consorts, I’m going to want to make sure we are a really strong and powerful unit together.”

“Again,” Treon said, “true.”

“So what’s the problem? Everyone here is afraid of Reaper. It’s clear he’s respected, and I know he’s a member of the Core. Why wouldn’t he be a good choice?”

“Because, as a queen, you need consorts, not a single husband. Unless you are absolutely opposed to the idea of having multiple partners, in which case I fear for your future.”

Mercy drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair.

“I haven’t really thought about it yet,” she said. “Consorts, that is. I mean, Reaper’s discussed it a little, and we’re supposed to talk when he gets back. But I didn’t really seriously think about multiple partners.”

“Well, trust me,” said Treon. “You need consorts. They will solidify your position, and make you and any children you have safe. Particularly any young girls who may or may not inherit what you are.”

She shook her head. “Even if that’s all true, I’m still not seeing why Reaper is a bad choice.”

Treon sighed. “Because Reaper wanted to kill me when I suggested seducing you, and you weren’t even sleeping together yet. I am also his brother, arguably one of the few people in his life normally safe from his instincts to kill.”

Mercy stared at him, pretty sure she’d just figured out what bothered her about him so much, and it did have to do with his arrogance. “You were going to try and seduce me?”

He waved a hand as if it didn’t matter. “As a way of coercing your connection to us as a people. For a moment I thought he might kill
me
. Do you know he hasn’t looked at me like that since I was six years old, and he was eight?” Treon looked away from her for the first time, his gaze distant. “He used to practice his Talent on me, until our mother realized what was happening and told him one didn’t stalk family. Or plan out how best to murder them.”

Mercy could honestly say she was struck speechless. She wasn’t sure if she was horrified, or horribly amused, or both. It felt a bit inappropriate, given how genuinely distressed Treon seemed. He leaned forward.

“I dislike knowing my brother actively wants to kill me, so I withdrew the suggestion immediately. I do wonder, though, if you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“You think Reaper will kill any other consorts I choose.”

“I think it is a very strong possibility. It is why Dem and Sanah married and chose to remain a closed unit.”

“That’s why you came here,” she said. “To tell me this.”

Treon inclined his head.

Mercy didn’t know what to say. Reaper was the one to tell her she needed consorts. She hadn’t given it a lot of thought yet, but she was now. Why would he suggest it, if what Treon said was true? Honestly, she wasn’t at all sure a multiple-partner relationship was for her, anyway. Hell, she had yet to succeed at a single partner relationship. Wouldn’t more people make it even more complicated?

To get a woman’s perspective, she visited Vashti. Of course, that was with a certain amount of wariness. Mercy was growing fonder of her aunt every day, but she couldn’t say that she entirely trusted her yet.

Vashti invited her inside quarters more spacious than Mercy’s own, and served tea to drink. It was good, but Mercy was too restless to make small talk. She got right to the point, setting aside the pretty cup with flowers embossed along the rim.

“What do you think of consorts?”

Vashti raised one elegant brow. “For you?”

“Is this the part where you tell me I need them to solidify my power base and keep my future family safe?”

“I see you’ve been speaking to someone. Cannon?”

“Treon.”

“How interesting. He doesn’t normally concern himself with the interpersonal relationships of others. Or at least, others outside his family.”

Mercy huffed a laugh. “Please. Don’t bother pretending you don’t know I slept with Reaper.”

“Are you choosing him for your first consort?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” And if that wasn’t the understatement of the millennium, she didn’t know what was. “Did you have consorts?”

“Yes. Three.”

“And?”

Vashti set down her tea. “What are you really asking me, Mercy?”

“I don’t know. Was it hard? Do you regret it?” Mercy took a deep breath. “I never even thought I’d get married, much less have consorts. Treon thinks Reaper will kill anyone else I choose.”

“And Reaper?”

“He’s the one who first told me I should have multiple consorts.” Mercy still wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Vashti stared at her with penetrating green eyes that saw far too keenly. Mercy picked up her tea again and sipped it for something to do.

“You wonder if he really cares for you, to have suggested such a thing.”

“I don’t know what I wonder right now. It’s all too new.” She looked away, her face burning. She fiddled with the warming feature on her cup. “I think I’m in love with him.” Mercy said this very softly.

“That’s lovely, dear.” Vashti smiled, huge and genuine. “I would want nothing less for you. Love is one of the most magical experiences the universe has to offer.”

“But?”

“No.” Vashti reached across the table and grabbed one of Mercy’s hands, squeezing it. “Don’t put qualifiers on it. Don’t let others fill you with fear. I have never seen Reaper act with anyone as he does with you. Never. I’ve known him all his life. He loved his mother. In his way, he loves his brothers and his niece. But he has no idea what romantic love is, or what it means.” Vashti patted her hand. “You’ll need to be patient with him. It’s going to take a long time for him to embrace it fully and incorporate it into who he is.”

“So, you agree with Treon? That he’ll kill anyone else I choose?”

“I didn’t say that.” Vashti’s eyes took on a calculating look. “For all their similarities, Reaper and Dem are two very different people. And Nikolos is very self-aware. He knows himself well enough to understand that it will be a long time before he’s able to be the other half of your relationship.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Reaper loves you, Mercy, but he doesn’t understand it yet. I wish you had more time, but that isn’t how our society works. We are an immediate people. We take what we want, when we want it. We are desperate to have more children. We are desperate for a Queen who will lead us away from the violent traditions of the past so we might survive long enough to have those children. At the same time, many of us are afraid of what that will mean.” Vashti gave a heavy sigh. “Change is hard, and always a risk. Some will do anything to try and prevent it. Reaper is right. You will need multiple consorts. He knows this. He knows you will need them not just for politics, but on a personal level.”

Mercy just shook her head. “I don’t need consorts to keep me safe. Reaper has dogs.”

“Listen to me for a moment. I had three consorts.” Vashti looked down at her hands. Pain etched lines deeply into her face. “I loved each of them. Darius was my first consort. He was a powerful precog. His gift of foresight was so strong, he won every battle he fought and never lost a single ship or man. My sister wanted him for herself, but he only saw me.” A soft smile lit her face. “We loved each other deeply. But that love and his Talent were not enough to save his life. He made an enemy of Lilith when he rejected her, and she had him killed.”

“I’m sorry.”

Vashti shook her head. “It was nothing I could prove, of course. But I knew. I had two other consorts, both powerful men. Leaders in their day. One died in an accident. His ship went into otherspace and never came out. The other was killed in the arena. A fight that was supposed to end at first blood went to the death. I watched it happen. Lilith worked the crowd into a frenzy, knowing what it would do.”