Warrior (25 page)

Unfortunately, Jess had no real idea how she'd done it. Brooding, she let her head fall back against the wall behind her and stared at the ceiling. What would happen if she blew a hole in it?

The Enforcers would probably be pissed. . . . But she needed to figure out how to use her powers deliberately. Next time she might not have time to get angry enough or desperate enough to produce a blast before some thug snapped her neck.

What had she done the last time? She closed her eyes, trying to call up the memory in sufficient detail so that she could re-create her actions. The Marcin-bot's steely fingers had been clamped around her throat, squeezing with slow, brutal power. Black spots had flooded her vision, dancing and swelling until she could no longer see the android's emotionless face.

And then she'd had the vision. Galar, covered in blood, an armored Xeran racing toward his back with a strange chiming sword lifted in both hands. . . .

Terror and rage had flooded through her dying brain, a fear not for herself but for Galar. Energy had swelled in her chest in a huge, hot bubble until it had exploded out of her and blown the combot apart.

Now she tried to re-create that feeling, that bubble of blazing force.

Nothing happened.

Jess gritted her teeth and glared hard at the spot over her head, fighting to generate that hot burst.
Make a hole,
she chanted mentally.
Make a hole!

Nothing.

The thing was, she realized, all that desperate energy seemed beyond her now, plunged into darkness as she was. Galar had turned his back on her, had left her locked helplessly in here.

Galar, the man she loved.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the stinging power of the revelation.
Yeah, I love him. It wouldn't hurt so damned bad if I didn't.

Jess remembered Riane's warning about Galar's distrust of women because of Tlain, the Femmat who had betrayed and shot him. He'd killed her, but he'd still spent weeks in regen growing back the arm she'd blown off.

Now he was convinced Jess was a Xeran spy too. And Jess—Jess was trapped in a world she knew nothing about, knowing no one, having lost the only family she had left, facing God knew what charges. If she was convicted of espionage, what would be the penalty? Historically speaking, spies were often executed.

“Jessica?”

Her eyes flashed open with a kind of desperate hope as Galar entered her cell. Had they discovered she was innocent?

Dyami followed him in. Both men were dressed in the dark blue uniforms of Temporal Enforcement. Both looked big, powerful, and almost overwhelmingly male. And both wore identical expressions of cool, distant professionalism.

Jessica's heart sank. She curled a lip, weary anger surging through her. “I gather you still think I'm the Mata Hari of the Outpost.”

“We just have a few questions,” Galar told her.

“Why bother? You're not going to believe anything I say anyway.”

Dyami lifted a dark brow. “Try us and see.”

She sighed. “I am not Xeran. I don't work for the Xerans. The Xerans have tried to kill me twice. I'd think that pretty well says it all.”

Galar folded his powerful arms. “Then why is there Xeran genetic material in your cells?”

“I have no idea. I was born in 1983, and I'm pretty damn sure neither of my parents were Xerans.”

Galar leaned forward and fixed her in a hard, flat stare. “Did you tell the Xerans about our combat plans?”

Jess met his eyes without flinching. “No.”

He lifted a brow. “That's it? Just no?”

“Well, I could point out that I have no way to contact the Xerans, even if they weren't trying to kill me, and even if I didn't think they're all a bunch of psychos. I could also point out that I warned you yesterday's mission was going to be a bloody disaster, and you ignored me.” Jess snapped her mouth closed to stop the flood of angry words.

Considering she was currently in a cell with a target painted on her back, she really couldn't afford to vent her furious hurt.

He glared back at her. “You said you had a 'feeling.'”

“I told you,” she snarled back. “I saw you covered in blood. I begged you. Hell, I even seduced you trying to get you to stay with me. And all you said was that humans aren't clairvoyant.”

“They're not.” His golden eyes narrowed. “But maybe you did know. Maybe you knew because the Xerans told you.”

“Do you really think that?” She felt her chin begin to tremble and fought to steady it as she glared at him through stinging eyes. “Do you really think I could betray you and your people and let you walk into a buzz saw like that? You think I could know that your people were going to die—and do nothing?
What the hell kind of monster do you think I am?
”

“Jessica . . . ,” Dyami began, his tone placating, his eyes uneasy.

She ignored him, too angry and hurt to care what she revealed. “I made love to you, Galar. I don't know what that means to your people, but I know what it means to me!”

“What
did
it mean to you, Jessica? Tlain and I made love dozens of times, and she still tried to kill me.”

“I'm not Tlain! Tlain was a sociopathic bitch, and she deserved what she got.”

“All right, enough,” Dyami growled, pushing away from the wall with an expression of distaste. “This isn't an interrogation—it's a lover's quarrel.”

“For us to have a lover's quarrel,” Jessica snarled bitterly, not looking away from Galar's hot gaze, “he'd have to give a fuck.”

“Maybe if
you'd
given a fuck, Jiri and Ando wouldn't be dead.”

Dyami clamped a grip on Galar's shoulder and dragged him through the door. “I said
enough
.”

Dammit,
Jessica thought as the two men vanished behind the trid field,
I am not going to cry. He's not worth it. He's not worth it.

But he was, and she knew it.

Dyami hauled Galar
into the corridor under the astonished gazes of Jess's two Enforcer guards. “Dismissed,” he snapped, pushing Galar back against the wall.

The men turned and fled, apparently recognizing the chief's dangerous expression.

Instinctively, Galar braced to military attention under his commander's gaze. Heat flooded his cheeks.
Kill that,
he ordered his computer. His face cooled again, despite the shame scalding his thoughts.

“I've changed my mind,” Dyami said, with a slight, surprising smile. “I want my ice-cold Galar back.”

Ignoring that sally, Galar forced himself to meet the big man's gaze. “She didn't do it. She's not a spy. You saw her reaction to what I said.”

“Yeah.” Dyami sighed. “You can't fake sensor readings like that. So you were
trying
to goad her?”

“I wanted to eliminate any possibility she might be dissembling. ”

“Well, you did that.” The Chief Enforcer studied him. “You've established her innocence to my satisfaction—and presumably your own. Especially given that Chogan is now convinced that the psychically active parts of that foreign DNA are more alien than Xeran. So now what?”

“That's up to you. Are you going to let her out?”

“And do what with her? It's for damned sure she's not going to want to go back to your quarters with you.”

Galar flinched slightly, knowing his commander was right. He'd hurt Jess badly. She might never forgive him for this night's work. “There are other quarters than mine.”

“But she's probably safest in the ones she's in.”

“Granted, but do we want to leave her thinking she's still facing espionage charges?” Galar hated the thought of her spending the night wrestling with that particular fear, especially on top of all the others she was dealing with. He remembered the bitter betrayal in her eyes and felt sick.

“Good point.” Frowning, he gave his jeweled braid an absent tug, eyeing Galar. “All right. I'll turn her loose and get her a couple of bodyguards for the night. In the meantime, go get some sleep. You look like hell.”

Galar hesitated, then nodded wearily. He wanted to apologize to her, but he knew he'd probably be better off giving her some time to cool down. “Thanks, Chief Enforcer.”

Dyami waved him off. “Go. Sleep. And give yourself a break from the guilt. We'll get this mess figured out and make those bastards pay.”

He managed another nod and turned away, knowing even as he started down the corridor that he'd be getting no sleep this night.

She looked up warily as Dyami stepped back into the cell. Tensing, she waited for Galar to follow.

The chief's perceptive black eyes studied her. “I sent him back to his quarters. He looks like shit.”

Jess slumped in relief. At least she wouldn't have to deal with another verbal acid bath from her former lover.

“You owe him, you know.”

Her head jerked up as she stared at Dyami in astonishment. “For what?”
Ripping my heart out of my chest?

“Convincing me you're not a Xeran spy, DNA or no DNA.” He leaned a brawny shoulder against the wall. “That was the whole point of that ugly little show of his, by the way. He knew if he goaded you enough, you'd demonstrate your honest outrage beyond even my capacity to doubt.”

“Wait—you're saying he didn't really mean those things?” The icy needle of pain lodged in her chest began to melt. “He doesn't believe I'm a spy?”

Dyami shrugged. “I'm not saying he didn't have his doubts. But he figured if he pissed you off enough, you'd show us the truth. And you did.” He shook his head. “Besides, the Xeran explanation never quite played for me anyway. Especially since Chogan now thinks that foreign DNA of yours isn't just Xeran.”

Knotted muscles began to relax as relief flooded her. “So I'm no longer under arrest?”
And Galar doesn't believe I'm a spy!

“No, you're cleared. As soon as your bodyguards get here, I'm sending you off with them.” He searched her face. “Would you like them to escort you to Galar's quarters?”

She swallowed, contemplating the gossamer thread of hope growing in her heart. Yes, he'd hurt her, said things she was going to have a hard time forgiving. But if he'd been motivated by a desire to prove her innocence, she could understand that a bit better. “Let me think about that.”

“He's a good man,” Dyami said softly. “A hard man in some ways. Certainly hard on himself. But I consider him someone I can count on. I think you can count on him too.”

“I think . . .” She took a slow, deep breath. “I think maybe you're right.”

“Chief Enforcer?” The soft alto voice sounded as Dona Astryr stepped into the cell. “Reporting for duty, sir.”

“Ah, there you are.” Dyami nodded at Jessica. “Please escort Ms. Kelly wherever she wants to go.”

She rose to her feet. “I think I want to go to Master Enforcer Galar's quarters, please.”

Dona nodded. “Of course.”

Her big, redheaded partner stepped into the cell, looming at her back. “It would be our pleasure,” Ivar Terje told her with a broad, charming smile.

Jessica, feeling almost giddy now, returned his grin. She stepped between the two agents and headed eagerly into the corridor.

She and Galar had a lot to talk about.

Jess strode along
the hall, scarcely aware of the Enforcers trailing her.

The real key to this whole thing was Charlotte. Charlotte, whom Jess knew was a Xeran, Galar's sensor readings notwithstanding. It was Charlotte who'd planted that Xeran genetic material in her cells, Charlotte who had been Marcin's primary target.
“Blood
—
I can smell her blood on you,”
the Xeran had growled just before he'd stabbed her.
“She's made you one of them!”

Blood. That was where the Xeran genetic material had come from. But why had Charlotte given her that material? And what was its connection to Jessica's new abilities?

Galar had said Xerans didn't have such powers any more than humans did. And in truth, Jess had never seen any evidence that Charlotte had powers either. She'd always seemed like a perfectly ordinary person.

Yet Marcin had called Charlotte a dangerous heretic. He'd feared her, though presumably he could have broken her in two, at least physically.

Questions,
Jess thought, frustrated.
All I have is questions.

Questions. Charlotte had said something about questions once. What had it been again? Jess frowned, fighting to remember. They'd been looking at the painting Jess was working on. Charlotte had turned and given her an odd, piercing look.
“This is the kind of painting you'll find answers in, when you're ready to look for them.”

She froze as her heart began to pound. It hadn't been a casual comment. Charlotte had meant it literally.

There were many ways to store a message in a painting in the twenty-third century. Ways Charlotte, as a Xeran, would be fully aware of.

Jess needed to get her hands on that painting. Literally. Even if it meant she had to travel in time to do it.

Dona Astryr frowned
in unease as she followed the primitive. The woman seemed lost in thought, less aware of her surroundings than Dona would have been in her shoes. Had she forgotten the Xerans wanted her dead?

But if Jessica was taking the threat lightly, Ivar definitely was not. Dona slanted a look at her lover. The big man strode along, his face impassive, but her sensors told her he was drawn tight as a bow under that professional facade. She'd fought alongside him long enough to know he was preparing for an attack.