Two
Yes! They had him now! The thought banished Alina’s pain, sent strength pouring through her. No matter how battered she felt, she damn well wouldn’t just lie there while a Warlord fought for her. Reeling to her feet, she yelled her battle cry and charged.
The Tevan rolled one yellow eye toward her, but he didn’t dare take his attention off the Warlord who was powering punches into his head and body. The air was full of meaty thuds and grunts, the smell of sweat, and the Tevan’s lizard reek.
The Warlord has cracked the Tevan’s armor, her computer said as she looked for an opening. Right side, between the eighth and ninth rib. A set of red crosshairs popped into her vision, pinpointing the weakness.
Alina rammed her fist dead in the center of those crosshairs. Something in her own side shrieked in agony with the force of the blow, but the cracks widened. The Tevan roared and twisted to strike out at her. She ducked his wild punch as the Warlord hit him squarely over his cracked armor. The acrid scent of alien blood rose.
With a bellow of frustrated rage, the Tevan broke and ran, lumbering like a galloping bull. Alina and the Warlord raced after him, tearing down the darkened pedwalk in the exaggerated strides of full riaat. A zipbike flashed low over their heads, probably a passerby wanting a closer look at the chase. The Warlord reached out a powerful arm for the Tevan’s armored shoulder.
But the alien leaped straight up, grabbed the back of the zipbike, and heaved himself astride behind the driver. Before Alina and the Warlord could do more than curse, the bike arched skyward, its gravlevs glowing blue against the night.
She broke stride, panting as she stared after the Tevan in rage. “Well, that absolutely grinds.” Shaking her head, Alina turned toward her Warlord savior. “Thanks for—” She broke off.
He was easily two meters tall, with the lean, powerful build of a Comanche class Warlord, built for agility and speed as much as strength. His hair was a rich dark sable, and a small, neat beard framed his sensual mouth. The intricate tattoo of Arvid House spilled down the left side of his handsome face in brilliant iridescent blue and scarlet.
Her attention narrowed into the small circle at the base of the tatt, right over the hollow of his strong cheekbone. The circle had not been filled in. Like her, he was still unmarried. After all these years.
The lust that was one of the side effects of riaat rolled through her in a hot and burning wave, blended with pure longing. It had been so damn long since she’d seen him, touched him. “Baird,” she choked, her voice shaking. Sweet Goddess, she wanted him.
Too bad she could never have him.
Baird stood frozen, staring at her, taking in the blood smearing the side of her face, the loneliness and hunger in her eyes. His own blood burned with riaat lust and pain, and he took a step forward, tempted to push her to the pedwalk and take her right there.
Instead he stopped and clenched his fists, fighting himself. He didn’t mind the desire—he understood that. The aftermath of riaat always engulfed his body in an erotic storm.
What bothered him was the pain. It felt as if someone had scooped a huge, aching hole out of the center of his chest, and the only thing that would fill it was her. Despite the investigation, despite duty and honor, despite the long, bitter years that had passed, he wanted her still.
He couldn’t afford that. He had a job to do.
Comp, kill the riaat lust, Baird ordered. Instantly, the desire began to drain away, leaving his body feeling cold. Yet the pain remained, searing him like a beamer burn.
“Damn you, Alina,” he gritted. She had no right to such power over him.
She opened her mouth as if to retort, but her face suddenly paled. Her eyes widened and rolled back in her head.
Baird jumped forward to catch her before she hit the ground. She felt lighter than he remembered as he lowered her to the pedwalk. What are her injuries?
Concussion, fractured cheekbone, two cracked ribs, and extensive bruising and lacerations, his internal computer replied. Given the extent of her injuries, a medtech is advisable.
And yet she’d waded back into the fight with the Tevan to back him up, then helped him chase the bastard down the alley. Some of that lunatic endurance had been riaat, but the rest had been pure, stubborn Alina.
Call a unit, he ordered. Aloud, he said, “Alina? Alina, talk to me.”
She lifted her blond head, combat beaded braids clinking. “Baird. Goddess, Baird, been so long. Missed you…”
He had to control the impulse to tighten his grip on her. His comp was draining off the chemicals of riaat, but he was still more than strong enough to hurt her without meaning to. “I missed you, too, brat.” He had to stop to clear his throat. He’d always hated seeing her hurt.
Her eyes rolled. “Galar. Where’s Galar?”
“What?” He remembered his files. Galar was Rajin’s ten-year-old son. Why was she asking about him? But before he could question her, her head dropped against his shoulder.
Maybe Rajin had her working as the boy’s bodyguard when she wasn’t using her for…other tasks.
The rising wail of a medunit’s siren drew his eyes skyward. The big vehicle came in fast and low, riding on its intricate arrangement of gravlev fields. As it set down, Baird walked to meet it, cradling Alina gently in his arms.
A woman in the blue uniform of a medtech towed a gleaming transparent tube from the back of the unit. “Put her in here,” she said as the tube’s lid slid back.
Baird placed Alina in the tube and stepped back, watching anxiously as the curving lid sealed and a pink gas pumped to fill it.
A trid of Alina’s body appeared over the tube, her injuries outlined in red. The tech studied them and murmured a few soft commands before turning toward him. Her skin was a metallic silver that contrasted vividly with the pale blue of her hair. She was as human as Baird was, which meant her coloring was either a product of genetic tinkering or cosmetics—it was tough to say which. Faint lines around her eyes suggested she was well into her eighties. “How about you? You’ve got some bruises, too,” she said, stepping over to aim a handheld scanner at him. “What the hell happened, anyway? Did you do that to her?”
Outraged, he glared at the tech. “What, beat her like that? Don’t be ridiculous. We’re both Vardonese warriors.”
The woman’s gaze lifted, belatedly taking in his braids and command beads. “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of you.” Cynicism gleamed in her eyes. “You guys take some kind of vow. Vardon is one of those matriarchal planets, right? You’ve got that female aristocracy, the Femays or something.”
“The Femmats.”
Two hundred years before, a group of idealistic scientists had colonized Vardon, intent on creating a utopia. Since most violence was committed by young men, they decided to tinker with their own genetic code to eliminate male aggression. But they’d also realized they needed protection from all the aggressive colonies around them, so they created a defense force of super warriors—the Warlords and their female equivalent, Warfems.
Raised in Warlord Creches to learn loyalty and obedience, the Warriors were indentured to the companies that created them, then sent into military service. They all took a vow to protect those weaker than themselves, male or female, adult or child.
Now guilt pricked Baird’s outrage. Alina had been his partner, his lover and his best friend for five years. For him, that had been a very strong bond, even if Alina had turned her back on it in the end.
Yet his actions today had put her in that regenerator.
Still, if what they suspected was true, her bond with him wasn’t the only one Alina had violated. That was why Baird had volunteered for this mission. He had to find out if she was guilty, prove her innocence if she wasn’t, and stop her if she was.
It was a matter of honor.
“So if you didn’t do it to her, who did?” the tech asked.
“A Tevan cyborg.”
Pale blue eyebrows flew upward. “A Tevan? Who did you two piss off, anyway?”
“I have no idea. The Tevan was beating her, so I stepped in.” Which was the truth—more or less.
The tech snorted. “Good thing you did. The lizard probably would have killed her.”
“It certainly looked that way.” And when he got his hands on the bastard, Baird was going to kick his ass.
Alina woke as the regenator’s pink mist drained away. Disoriented, she watched the transparent lid slide back, blinking hazily at the stars overhead.
“Alina? Are you all right?” The deep voice cut through her mental fog, snapping her instantly to attention.
“Baird?” Her heart leaped. He stood beside the tube, looking grim as a medtech trained a scanner on her. Alina started to roll off the tube stretcher. The world reeled around her, almost dumping her on her face.
Baird caught her. “Take it slow, Alina. You always get the spins after a session in regen.”
She gave him a look as she steadied herself against his strong chest. “I’m touched you remember.” She was surprised he’d even care, particularly after that last row they’d had over Rajin’s ultimatum.
Twenty years ago.
A long time. No wonder he’s changed.
Baird had been barely twenty the last time she’d seen him. He was taller now, harder, more muscular than the boy she’d fought beside for five years.
That was only to be expected, she supposed. They’d been half-starved little animals then, fighting the Xeran invaders with all the savagery of wolf-cats. Now the Xer were gone, and the great Femmat Houses of Vardon were richer and more powerful than ever. Which wasn’t exactly a blessing, at least in Alina’s case.
Baird frowned down at her, visibly worried. “How are you feeling?”
She straightened away from him, though she wanted nothing more than to rest against his strength.
Unfortunately, it was a luxury Alina couldn’t afford. In all the ways that mattered, nothing had changed where she and Baird were concerned. “I’m fine.” And she was, she realized, probing her face with cautious fingers.
“You weren’t half an hour ago,” the medtech told her. “Concussion, fractured cheekbone, cracked ribs. Stay out of fights with Tevans, okay?”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” Alina inhaled, pleased to note the lack of pain. Everything felt solid and sturdy again. The regenator had done its job with its usual efficiency.
“Good.” Nodding, the tech turned to shepherd her machine back into the emergency unit.
As it lifted off, Alina couldn’t resist another look at Baird. Examining the beads braided into his hair, she spotted a ruby that signified a captaincy in the Vardon Stellar Command, along with twenty years’ worth of service and combat decorations. They made a glittering display against his sable mane.
He was wearing the uniform, too, a blue unisuit piped with command red, a captain’s scarlet insignia decorating his high collar. The dark colors drew attention to his face, with its strong, angular bone structure that was, if anything, more handsome than she remembered.
Yet there was something in those golden eyes that was much older than she knew him to be. Warlords didn’t live as long as Femmat aristocrats, but forty was still quite young.
So why did those eyes look so weary, so hard and disillusioned? What had happened to him on the way to all those combat decorations?
Still, Alina felt a twinge of envy for his military splendor. All she wore were the beads she’d won in the invasion. Rajin Kasi had refused to let her serve after that. “Kasi House spent a great deal of money on your genetic engineering, your cybernetics, and your education,” the Femmat aristocrat had told her. “We mean to get a return on our investment.”
As a gesture of gratitude, most Houses had emancipated the genetically engineered warriors who’d fought to free Vardon from the Xer. The reasoning went that no matter what each company had spent creating their Warlords and Warfem, the fighters had more than paid it back during that five-year guerrilla war.
Rajin, as Kasi House president, hadn’t agreed. At least not when it came to Alina. But when she’d forbidden further contact with Baird, Alina had seriously considered suing for her freedom. Unfortunately she knew what price Rajin would exact.
She hadn’t even dared tell Baird why she hadn’t, which had resulted in that last bitter fight. He hadn’t spoken to her since.
Until tonight.
“The Tevan hurt you,” Baird said, jolting her out of her painful preoccupation. His golden eyes were fixed so hungrily on her face, she’d have thought he was still in the aftermath of riaat if her computer hadn’t told her otherwise. Lifting a big hand, he brushed his knuckles across her healed cheekbone in a tender gesture at odds with his curled lip. “He’s lucky he got away. I’d have killed him for that.”
Alina inhaled sharply at his warm, calloused touch. She tried to cover her reaction with a smile. “You always were protective.”
“I’ve missed you.” His deep voice sounded a little hoarse.
“You’re not…still angry?”
Those beautiful eyes flickered, and she knew he lied. “No. You were only doing your duty to your House.”
Which wasn’t what he’d said at the time. He’d called her a coward then, too gutless to stand up to Rajin’s blatant abuse. And she hadn’t been able to explain.
For ten years, Alina had wondered if he was right about her cowardice. Then Galar was born, and she’d known her sacrifice was worth it.
Too bad she still couldn’t explain to Baird. She’d love to damn the consequences and spill the whole story, but she wouldn’t be the only one to face Rajin’s rage. She couldn’t take the chance.
Instead she changed the subject, gently tugging one of the braids that swung by his temple. “Judging by the beads, you’ve done well for yourself.”
His smile flashed white. “Judging by the murder attempt, you’re still pissing people off. What was that all about, anyway?”
She stiffened with the automatic wariness of twenty years as a courier for Rajin Kasi. Then she forced a shrug and a grin. “As you said, I must have pissed someone off.”
“Need a bodyguard?”
Goddess, yes. Data thieves might dare an attempt on her, but they’d steer well clear of a Warlord. And if they didn’t, they’d regret it. But…Reluctantly, she shook her head. “Rajin would throw a rod. You know how she is about us.”
He lifted a dark brow. “Is Rajin here?”
“Waiting for me on Calista.”
“Calista is twenty-four light-years away. She doesn’t have to know.” Baird frowned. “Besides, hasn’t Kasi House emancipated you by now? Even if you weren’t a Xeran Invasion veteran, most Houses demand no more than ten years’ service.”
“Rajin says soon.” She’d been saying “soon” for the past ten years. Alina knew “soon” would never arrive unless she found a way to force it.
“You could take Kasi to court, sue for emancipation.”
Not a day went by that she didn’t dream of doing just that. “It’s complicated.”
Perceptive golden eyes studied her face. “Why don’t we go someplace a little more secure, and you can explain it to me?”
She wavered, tempted despite the risk. Goddess, she’d love to tell him the whole story, face his rage, and get it over with. Maybe he’d listen and forgive.
Maybe he’d even help her get Galar away from Rajin. She’d sacrifice anything for the boy’s safety. Hell, she had already sacrificed her heart, her happiness and her honor. Nothing else was left.
Except the boy’s life.
No, she couldn’t risk that. But she could be with Baird, if only for tonight. Feed her hunger for him. Make love to him again. Store up memories. Surely she deserved that much? “Yes,” Alina said, her voice hoarse with need. “I’d like to…catch up.”
She wanted to do a great deal more than catch up. And judging from the bulge in those snug uniform trousers, so did Baird.