Vanquished (13 page)

“
Valki
and a light pastry, Neira.”
Vayne set the food in front of
her and she started, tearing her gaze away from the couple.

“Thank you,” she said
automatically as he settled next to her, the heat of his body so damn evident.

When she reached for the ale,
Vayne caught her hand.
“My privilege, little warrior.”

He talked about his home planet
as he fed her bites of the pastry, something with a filling she didn’t
recognize, in between sips of the
valki
.
Crew members marched in and out, some taking food with them, others sitting at
a respectful distance from their table. They continued to give her and Vayne
looks, but again Neira found nothing intolerable, and it was probably her
imagination that more and more of them began to file in. She didn’t see Sheera
or Alondra and planned to ask after them.

“I see Vicky and her…and Leric.”

Vayne glanced over and she could
have sworn he purred. For sure it was a sound in his chest that was remarkably
like the one the base cat made when anyone scratched its ears. She wondered
what happened to old Scruffy.

“Their bonding is complete,” he
said, satisfaction evident in his voice. He stared at her for a moment and she
felt wanting somehow, like there’d been a competition and she’d lost.

“They do look like an Earth
couple.
All swoony and all over one another.
Like on a
honeymoon.”

His brow furrowed,
then
cleared. “Ah, you refer to the time after the wedding.”

“Yes.”

Leric abruptly stood and gathered
Vicky into his arms, carrying her out of the mess with what seemed like
indecent haste. She could have sworn every male in the room moaned under their
breath and her sexual interest in Vayne revved back up. She tamped it
down—hard—thinking of the cold nights on Neptune and the frozen waterscape of
Mars.

“Not a honeymoon,” he said. “That
is the state of their connection for the rest of their time together, Neira,
though they will not flaunt it once they’ve adjusted.”

She scoffed and tried not to let
Vicky’s capitulation feel as though Neira had ordered the young woman to offer
herself up.
“Right.
Like that intensity lasts.”

Pressing closer, Vayne lowered
his head. “It lasts.
As you will discover.”

Inching away, Neira shook her
head. “I’ll never get that…clingy. It’s not me.”

She felt him sigh.
“Neira.
It’s not a bad thing. It’s the Shadalla way and our
mates have
no reason nor
inclination to complain, or
wish it any other way.”

There was something she didn’t
understand here and it was ginormous. “I’d like you to explain what you mean by
that.” Again, suspicion surged. “Was Victoria drugged?”

“Let’s adjourn to our quarters.
I’ll explain—”

“No. Tell me here.
Unless it’s a secret from the crew?
Like their inability to
control
themselves?”

His features hardened and the
turquoise in his eyes darkened to shards of dark blue. His lips pressed into a
straight line. She’d kept her voice down but even so knew challenging this man,
showing disrespect, was something he didn’t tolerate. But fuck if she cared.
She knew whatever he had to say—supposing he told the truth—was pivotal in
whatever was going on.

****

Do or die.
Another
Home World euphemism.
Well, death wouldn’t be the issue, but it might feel
like it. His little warrior was calling him out. Shadalla females were taught
the process before it ever came to being chosen. Vayne readily admitted that
certain shortcuts were taken when it came to Earth females, because it stood to
reason the hurried courtships might have been hampered had they been apprised
of Shadalla males’ abilities to sweep aside any opposition. It was not rape,
not at all. But it wasn’t totally aboveboard. More like enhanced seduction,
because there was no resisting it.
Except
your little warrior is doing just that.
He was angry with her for pushing
him but angrier at himself for thinking he might have avoided this
conversation. Perhaps having the holding period on the
Tomodr
wasn’t his best choice, although it had worked extremely
well for Leric. And he was still trying to find a way out of this instead of
answering her.

“I told you of the chemistry.
That which tells us males we have found a chosen. We then involuntarily create
and emit pheromones, similar to those humans secrete to entice a mate, albeit
in larger, more intense quantities. Because the female is a chosen, she is
receptive to these pheromones and…” Vayne stalled out, wondering how best to
frame what he had to say. “She embraces the attraction and accepts. She ultimately
surrenders her will and becomes part of her mate.”

Neira’s golden eyes glowed with
outrage before she narrowed them. “I don’t pretend to understand the science
behind attraction, Palldyn. I do know that Earth women tend to do stupid and
impetuous things when they become infatuated with someone. It sounds like the
same thing.”

He shook his head and kept his
eyes locked with hers. “There is nothing stupid or impetuous about it, Neira.
It is a natural process.”

“It sounds like being drugged,”
she muttered. “And does the male become part of the female?”

By the gods of
Isord.
He
should have insisted on having this conversation in his quarters, for he well
knew the
crew were
hanging on his every word, their
hearing far superior than his little warrior knew. But he knew he must be
honest and omit nothing, despite how it might send their bonding awry. “No.”

She was on her feet, balanced in
a familiar stance—fight or flight—and it was only with considerable control
that Vayne remained seated and relaxed, refusing to provoke her. Their audience
of over half his fucking crew was abnormally quiet, perhaps holding their
breath. Who the hell was manning his ship? He focused on Neira.

“I lost myself once, Sovereign.
In fact I doubt I recovered all I was. I’m not doing it again, pheromones be
damned, so that you can do your part to repopulate your planet. And I’m pretty
sure the other women you stole would have an opinion if given the information
you just shared.”

“We are desperate, Neira, to
ensure the continuation of our species. I grant you that. But a Shadalla male
is not complete until he is bonded.”

“Excuse me? You all seem to have
it together. You’re a species that pretty much rules the galaxy, after all.”

Gesturing to the crew, who were
now sitting, to a man, at rigid attention, their eyes trained directly on him,
Vayne spoke. He told his little
leicat
the final piece of information that, if widely known, could spell the end of
his race. “We face a double-edged sword, little warrior. Our females are nearly
extinct or barren, as I told you. But without a lifemate the male Shadalla
fade.”

She didn’t relax much, but her
head tilted and he watched her process. She scanned the other males before
returning her gaze to him. Her smooth, high brow furrowed. “You—all of you—will
die if you don’t bond? But we all die. Are you saying a lifemate makes you
immortal?”

“We live at least three hundred
of your Earth years if bonded.
Fifty, if not.
Even those of royal blood.
You could say we have
considerable impetus to bond and procreate.”

“But you have to be far older
than fifty. History…the war…you were in the forefront back then. How do you
explain that?” Neira obviously thought she’d caught him out in a lie, and she
edged backward.

“I was bonded once before.”

Her full lips parted for a moment
and her eyes widened before she collected herself, and her emotions were hidden
from the crew. Vayne felt them, though, and they were both a stroke and a slap
to his ego. Neira struggled with stark jealousy, followed by suspicion and
disdain. “Where is she?”

“She faded. It was a genetically
manipulated bond and she was unable to maintain it.”

A brief beat of silence. “I’m
sorry for your loss.”

Vayne was overwhelmed by the
sadness now emanating from his bride, any hint of the wild
leicat
quelled. Neira felt for him, assumed his heart had been
broken, and he had no idea how he was going to reassure her without harming his
case. Asula was but a faint memory,
a regret
, and
while he honored her, there was nothing about her that detracted from his need
for Neira. Because what they had hadn’t been real. He took heart that Neira
felt enough for him to experience jealousy and concern. Their physical
attraction wasn’t in doubt, but he required her trust, and, as he’d come to
accept, her heart.

Acknowledging her condolences
with a grave nod, he took advantage of her softening demeanor and rose, once
again grasping her arm to escort her. There was a collective sigh behind them,
and he knew that the conversation would be repeated throughout the ship within
moments. Taking another calculated risk, he turned toward the lift. Neira might
appreciate the sights and sounds of the bridge, and he would continue to show
he was putting his trust in her. Perhaps there was a different path.

As they made their way, she looked
at him, her features pensive. “Why isn’t Vicky veiled? Because it’s not about
risk to her, is it?”

“You won’t see her again during
our travels, Neira. Nor will the rest of the crew, despite how disciplined they
are. It’s too painful a reminder for them, how short their lifespan might well
be
, especially when there are no young to replace them and
there is so much to be accomplished. And in truth, on Nibiru some have acted
out toward a chosen, out of their minds with pain and desperation. We are not
that
evolved. So covering our lifemates
in public is kinder for all, and safer. Victoria will now exude such joy and
contentment that it will be vastly uncomfortable for males to be around her.”

“So you need another lifemate to
live another century or so.”

Vayne sucked in air against the
truth, more than a figurative blow. It was true, yet it wasn’t. “My deceased
bride somehow extended my lifeline. The genetic manipulation was successful in
that regard. And it is true that you will extend it further. Neira, I have
responsibilities. I require heirs. That too is a duty. But I also want a
bride.”

“And I just happened to—” The
doors slid open to display the bridge and Neira bit back whatever she was about
to say. He reached out to soak up her emotions and tasted resignation flavored
with bitterness.

“Sovereign!” Jurlek distracted
him with his worried tone. “I was about to contact you. We have plotted a
number of vessels on a direct trajectory between Nibiru and the end of the
Falls
. No confirmed identification yet, but we suspect Home
World ships. There are nine in total.”

Neira stiffened beside him but
remained silent, and Vayne thought quickly. “How long before you are certain?”

“Seven hundred
twenty stints.”

Much of their force was scattered
around the galaxy, and he quickly calculated how many he’d willingly spare from
the defense of Nibiru in the event the Home World had devious plans. “Send a
coded message to command. Request three ships to rendezvous via a circuitous
route. Hold here.”

His navigator nodded but in the
exec’s absence spoke as Leric would, alerting his commander to all
possibilities. “The message may be tracked.”

“Agreed.
Send a probe and have it relay
the message obliquely. And then we wait.” The
Tomodr
would definitely require the support of additional ships,
because there was something intrinsically nasty afoot. But he also wouldn’t
risk his planet. Vayne didn’t respect the treaty after all, if for essential
reasons, and he wasn’t a total hypocrite.

This time offering Neira his arm,
he was gratified when she took it and allowed him to lead her from the bridge,
as elegant and controlled as any indigenous royal lifemate. She said nothing
the entire way back to his quarters—their quarters—and he hoped they had the
time for what he needed to do. It meant less time to answer all the questions
and concerns she was certain to raise about her ordained role.

Chapter Seven

The walk back to the confines of
Vayne’s cabin passed in a blur. Too much information once again, only this time
it didn’t impact the same way. Neira was torn between worry over why the Home
World had vessels lying in wait for her—and unless they were after the
Shadalla, having somehow found out their part in the sacking of the
Astris
, she had to accept the odds were
high the hunt was on for
her
. It made
no sense unless she indeed held vital information in the depths of her psyche.
The idea made her nauseous, because the future absolutely didn’t bode well.

“You understand we’ve run out of
options.” Vayne allowed the door to slide closed before he spoke.

“You think that I have a piece to
an important puzzle.”

Gesturing her to sit on the bunk,
Vayne crossed to the far wall and touched the screen to life. She noted how he
turned his back to her more and more as though he trusted her not to act out
against him. It wasn’t the lack of energy, sucked out of her by the turn of
events that had triumphed over that urge, either, nor the acceptance of having
nowhere to run. She wasn’t even so opposed to him touching her in ways
different that his caring, protective mien, despite how her independent self
protested. It was disconcerting. Her thoughts whirling, she focused on what he
was sharing.

“Leric, when he hasn’t been
furthering his suit with Victoria, has entered all the known data into our
computer. I was going to discuss this with you in any event, after you
recovered more fully. I know you have other questions that I would hope can
wait, at least until we address this issue.”

He wasn’t avoiding the elephant
in the room, and she appreciated it. It wasn’t the time and place to talk more
about Vicky and how Neira had indeed tossed her right into the maw of sexual
servitude.
But that independent part of her surged to the
fore.
Completing Leric
be
damned. It wasn’t
their fault that the Home World rulers had done something so heinous, and it
simply wasn’t fair that Earth’s women would have to right that wrong without
much say in the matter. Although shit like that seemed to always fall to women.

Maybe the Shadalla would have to
accept their lot and learn to adapt. Lots of species across the universe had
done so. It was called evolution, or maybe bouncing back after an extinction
level event. It didn’t matter that it upset her terribly to think Vayne’s life
could be cut short. He’d already been lucky, if not in love, then with a longer
lifespan. He’d just have to go looking for another chosen to extend this one.
And if that bothered her nearly as much, then she was being contrary and
selfish…and a total girl. That final thought gave her the strength to cease and
desist.
She who fights
and runs away, lives to fight another day.
Old Russian saying.

Forcing her attention back to the
more pressing matter, she stared at the flow chart Leric had compiled. At first
the numbers and events meant little to her, for many had taken place a long
time ago, and they were nothing she’d read in Earth history that she recalled.
As a pattern coalesced, she tore her gaze away and stared at Vayne. A new
history lesson had unfolded within that chart and held terrible implications.
“No,” she breathed.

Neira thought she possessed more
than a modicum of intelligence and most certainly had an ability to string
words together in coherent ways, but it seemed she had lost the skill to do
more than protest when faced with the improbable.
Being a
chosen.
Intended as a royal broodmare.
No and
no. And finally,
no
to that pattern
she interpreted. Her time in the military placed her in the final stages of the
war and at the mercy of the Juxtant, one of two Marines to survive and be held
by Baraith, Vayne’s mortal enemy. She’d boarded the
Astris
only to be
kidnapped by Vayne, and she could well hold information he required about the
bio weapon because of her imprisonment under Baraith. But clearly there were
forces at work here beyond her understanding and perhaps beyond Vayne’s.
Although he was probably more a believer than she in the whims of
fate.
Fate.
According to the conclusion she’d
drawn from the raw data, their lives had always been entwined and the outcome
inevitable.
Lifemates.

“You see it, then.” Was there
admiration in his voice? More fool him. She railed against fate. She’d been in
the wrong place at the right time was
all.
Nothing
admirable about that, definitely the wrong time for her, and it had left her
stunted and damaged.
Not true. He’s taken
that from you, the pain and trauma. You are more yourself, like the Neira
Grekov of old.
Right
, she
told that unwelcome voice.
And he’ll take everything else until I’m but an
extension of him, a resource for him to draw from and live a long life.
Neira no longer wished to die, no matter the form of death. Vayne had perhaps
healed her soul, given her back her life, but what price would he exact?
Is being part of him—like him—such a
terrible thing? Why fight what is meant to be when he’s come to mean so much to
you?
She quashed that reasonable, inquiring voice playing the devil’s
advocate. She’d had quite enough of the devil.

“You’ve been searching for the
ones who unleashed the genetic weapon on the Shadalla.” She summarized what
she’d detected. “And you have evidence it was the Juxtant who provided the
necessary scientific information to build such a thing, if not the technology,
and the means to deliver it to Nibiru.” She drew the heel of one hand over her
brow. There were no coincidences, merely actions and reactions, cause and
effect that combined, forming patterns and creating outcomes with a common
denominator. “And apparently there’s an opinion that I know a name—names,
because of my time with Baraith, so I’m a threat to the conspirators.”

Ah, and now she was minimizing
that terrible torture and mind-crippling agony at the mercy of the Juxtant
ruler.
Her
time
with
that psychotic bastard.

The sovereign stared back,
unblinking, and she desperately wanted to crawl inside his head and take refuge,
because it wasn’t minimization. She had indeed found a way to cope and
deal—using whatever it was he provided her. The therapies of the Home World had
been but a thick bandage between her and the horror. Before she gave in and
voiced her epiphanies and her need, a thought struck her. “But the Juxtant
attacked the Home World and all its planets. Why help them?”

Shrugging, Vayne answered, “I
expect the amount of mistrust on either side led to betrayal. Or perhaps they
saw the way the war was turning. More likely, those who gave the orders for
genetic homicide were a small faction and acted without the agreement of all. I
have located a few already, but regrettably they didn’t survive to meet with me
and…share the other conspirators’ names.”

“A small faction.
Which is why
you didn’t hold them all responsible.
All humans and
their allies.”
Her grudging respect grew.

“We don’t destroy the innocent,
Neira. We pride ourselves on seeing the forest for the trees, as your species
has said. I only wish to find those remaining monsters responsible.
Those still alive.”
He spoke with no inflection, and his
assertion was more powerful as a result. It left no doubt as to the fate of
those people.

“The
computer
suggests a scenario that one or all of those individuals is aware of my…time
with Baraith, and were
in touch with him while I was there. They are
concerned about what I might know.” She figured she might as well sum it up.
“That explains the in-depth probing by the military of my time in captivity,
then. Although not the efforts to help me suppress the trauma.”

“Perhaps they believed if you
couldn’t recall anything of significance despite their efforts, then ensuring
you kept it buried
was
in their best interests. But it
would have worked at cross purposes. They weren’t concerned about your best
interest.”

It was nothing different than the
conclusion she’d come to, and Neira nodded. “Petrov probably knew,” she mused,
“and it came out. So he was put down. I could have met the same fate if not for
my contacts and friends. It was Alexi’s death by his own military that granted
me escape. They feared I’d out them.”

“Politicians and those high up in
the military are nothing if not strategists, Neira. Someone called in those
favors, and to be fair, your superiors could easily have been misled.
Told something along the lines of national security.
Soldiers follow orders, especially from politicians.”

“As the Shadalla warriors follow
yours. But you’ve been a soldier. And they know this, so obeying you can be
done with a clear conscience.”

Vayne stilled, and those
turquoise eyes filled with wonder as his features softened. “Your understanding
is the highest compliment, my love.”

They stared at one another while
Neira strove to resist the lure of that honesty and the endearment. Vayne
blinked and spoiled the moment, to her relief. “One would wonder if you
mightn’t have met with an accident on the mining colony, if not on the way
there.”

She stood and paced in the small
area, trying to ignore his size and strength, knowing he would hold her close
and ease her angst if she allowed it. In fact, she was both surprised and
disappointed he hadn’t made the attempt.
“Toya.
Was
she a spy?
Or my assassin?”

Moving with that eerie quickness
and silence, he wrapped her up, ignoring her pathetic attempt to resist.
Contrary was her middle name. That, or conflicted. “It is pure conjuncture,
little warrior. But it does follow.”

When he lifted her and carried
her to the bunk, she didn’t protest. He made quick work of stripping off her
garment and sliding her between the covers. She became aware of how chilled
she’d been again, cold to her inner core until Vayne had held her. The warmth
was pervasive and she tingled, all thoughts and concerns about what was to come
banished, at least for the time being. More of Vayne’s doing, no doubt, but she
welcomed it.

“You’ve been so brave for so
long, my little warrior. It has distracted you from what you need—and deserve.”
He slid in beside her, also nude, instructing the lights to dim, and formed a
heated bulwark against the universe. “Will you trust me, Neira? To plumb your
memories and keep you safe through your recollection?”

She retained enough composure to
qualify her response. “On this I’ll trust you.”

Vayne smiled against her hair, or
so it seemed.
“Ah, so difficult.
All right, agreed.
On this.”

It might have been a form of
hypnosis, and one that would be far better received in certain circles than the
more typical approaches. Neira allowed her body to relax against Vayne’s and
listened to his voice as he suggested, aware her breathing was becoming
synchronized to his. Their hearts beat closely, again with a faint echo, like a
stutter step, and she meandered down pathways deep in her psyche she never
thought—or wanted—to walk again.
In spirit-saving safety.
All of those horrible hours spent under Baraith’s torment unfolded, inch by
excruciating inch. Except, held in Vayne’s thrall, she viewed it almost
dispassionately, if with a certain sadness, as she shared with him. The
memories flowed over her, slowing when others entered the room or called
Baraith away, individuals close by… She could now pluck out names, and language
and even faces, no longer clouded by the agony she and Alexi Petrov shared. The
latter memory wrenched her heart sideways, the way she’d failed her trooper.

“Shh. You did your best.” Vayne
rocked her, and Neira became aware of the tears sliding down her face.

“I know. But Petrov was so young,
yet so male.
Protective.
And our roles—”

“Were reversed.
Your position was untenable,
Neira. So brave for so long, you needn’t carry that burden. I’ll take it from
you—there is no need for you to strain beneath it, be forever in control,” he
crooned.

Oh, how she wanted to believe him
and find the courage to seek more than survival. She’d felt the tears in her
psyche knit and heal beneath his benevolence and tender care and anything
seemed possible. Vicky’s blissful countenance swam behind her closed eyelids
and sudden terror made her flounder and desperately struggle in Vayne’s arms.

“Light!” she cried, and Vayne
immediately echoed her demand. The room burst into illumination. Vayne blinked
against it and frowned into her face.

“What’s wrong?”

Putting as much distance between
them as possible, a ludicrous effort, seeing as her body was fully aware of his
proximity and its own potential, Neira called upon her military training to
school her brain. She couldn’t become Vicky and lose herself. “Who did I give
you? Did you recognize the names?”

Vayne didn’t appreciably relax
his hold, but he backed off his intensity and she shored up her withered
defenses. Working with him out of necessity had wreaked havoc on her
determination to reject his intention to bond with her. Trust him, indeed, on
this one thing. It was like nibbling on a piece of dark chocolate when the entire
box sat temptingly within reach.
Bad, bad libido.