CHAPTER SIX
The smell of freshly brewed coffee woke her up as Conor sat on the mattress next to her, carefully holding two mugs. “Care for a cup? Genuine Terran blend. The SCIA spares no expense, so we might as well enjoy the privilege.”
“Coffee in the middle of the night?” She sat up against the headboard and wrapped the blanket around herself before she reached to take the offering. She cupped her hands around the warm mug.
“Why not? I couldn’t sleep and I heard you stirring in here. Sorry if I woke you up.”
She shook her head. “I was only lightly asleep, and having bad dreams. Better to be awake! Do you think anyone survived? Saviano maybe?”
“You saw the bodies inside the room, enveloped in flames. And judging from the blaster fire we heard, even if someone else was lucky enough to make it out alive, they didn’t get far. This was a well-planned hit all right. I’ve checked the news and so far they’re not saying much.” He sipped his coffee. “ If you’re hungry, there are rations I can heat up. Not too tasty but sustaining.”
She shook her head. “We had such a huge dinner.” Patting the mattress beside her, she said, “Come sit.”
“Take this for a moment, please.” He handed her his mug and bent over, picking something off the floor. When he rose and came onto the bed, he had the seedpod from the ancient tree. “I think you said you wanted to keep this? What was going on with the tree at the end anyway? I thought I was going to have to throw you over my shoulder and force you to leave it. Here, trade.” Conor took his coffee back and gave her the seed, with its tiny leaves like miniature wings. Sipping his brew, he got under the blanket with her and drew her to lean against him.
“The tree was going to suffer an agonizing death by fire,” she said. “It was a sentient too, not like us perhaps, but I couldn’t run away to save myself and abandon it. So I sang it into the next life.”
“Sang it—”
“The tree gave me energy, and I gave it the song, so it was able to reproduce to make these.” She held her hand out, the seed resting on her palm.
“I watched the new shoots, the leaves and then the flowers bloom. It was an amazing show, hard to believe my eyes. I was more worried about the explosions and the blaster shots, honestly. And you not getting killed.” He eyed her over the rim of the cup. “You have incredible powers, don’t you? Much more than the Combine suspects.”
“At times, if Thuun wills it to be so. And as you observed, if I have the living energy to pull from.” She studied the seedpod. “I hope at least a few of these will find open ground. It was the best I could do.”
He smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her cheek.
Afraid he would be concerned after the remark about her power, she said, “I’d never hurt you, never use my gifts against you.”
“I know.” Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back.
“How long have you been doing this dangerous job of yours?”
“Five years. Like I told you, I got a job as a low-level enforcer and kept my eye out for someone on the rise in the Amarotu structure, someone I could tie in with and use to work my way into the inner circles. Opherra was running a high-class whorehouse by the spaceport, but even then I could see she was hungry for power and utterly ruthless. She had more side deals and schemes going on than I could count. I engineered a situation or two where I was able to save her ass, and we became a team.”
Miriell pondered how close a team, remembering what Tamlu had said. “How can you stand to carry out the acts demanded by your role in the Combine? I heard you discussing all those drug deals, the gambling and the rest earlier tonight.”
“It’s necessary.” After finishing his coffee, he set the mug aside on the floor and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not proud of the things I’m good at, the things I’ve done. I do what you did at the restaurant the first night, as often as I can without blowing my cover.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you tripped the waiter somehow, averted an innocent woman’s suicide. I’ve had a few civilians pulled out and sent into witness protection over the years. It’s dangerous, but I do what I can. If Opherra insists on killing Bazin’s girlfriend, I’ll get her extracted and set the crime scene to indicate a successful hit went down.” He rubbed his forehead, face set in grim, tired lines. “The sordid and reprehensible acts I’ve been forced to carry out in the past five years will all be worth it once we pull down a major branch of the Combine.”
“Was there an undercover cop in my Sector’s Combine organization? Do you think such a person might have had something to do with the explosion and takedown Opherra told us about?” She was angry, wondering if any of the thugs and enforcers surrounding her had secretly been law enforcement, people who could have saved the prisoners. How many had died needlessly?
“I don’t know. I doubt it. There’s high-level Mellurean involvement in the case I’m on, which is one of the critical success factors in my infiltration. The fact you’ve been held for four years argues the operation wasn’t compromised by the SCIA. The Mellureans take a very dim view of abuse of psychic sentients such as yourself, but if they don’t know it’s happening, not much they can do. It’s not easy to accomplish, you know, getting undercover agents in place. Several of my colleagues died or simply vanished in earlier attempts, either they were betrayed or slipped up somehow. Good men and women.”
“I’ve never heard the term Mellurean.”
“An ancient race, survivors from a much different time in the galaxy, eons before we arrived on the scene. Not many left. From what I’ve been told, the first encounter between the humans and the Mellureans didn’t go well at all for us. They have power so far beyond even what I suspect you can do that the scope is incomprehensible. The Mellureans allied with the Sectors eventually because we have a common enemy in the Mawreg.” He looked at her face, which must have mirrored her inner confusion. “The Mawreg are the ultimate bosses of predator races like the Shemdylann who invaded your planet. The suspicion of their involvement is part of why I’m here. The authorities believe this branch of the Combine may be working closely with the Mawreg client races as part of a strategy to undermine the Sectors. Their support for the Combine may be an experiment to get humans to betray humans, and if it works, the Mawreg will make the Combine a full-fledged partner. Then we’d be fighting two wars—against the aliens and against an internal enemy. The Combine leaders only care about their own enrichment and power. High stakes for the human race and our allies. So I volunteered for this.”
“But to what end? Do you report in or—”
He shook his head. “Never. I have a Mellurean mind implant that records what I see and hear. That’s how I knew you were scanning me with something. Periodically, the implant clears the memory while I’m asleep. I have no control over it, but I assume the records go to Mellure and are shared with the SCIA from there. I never make direct contact at all. Too dangerous.”
“But you said you’d rescued people. And this house, the car—how did you get those?”
“I have a way to initiate a no-reply contact. There’s no actual connection between me and anything but an impenetrable AI network, but I can make requests for extraction and flag them as priority. The car, the house, some other assets, are SCIA standard. We have similar things scattered around the Sectors where an agent might need them. I know how to find what I need when I need it.”
“So you’re condemned to serve here forever? Until you’re caught or killed?” She was horrified and frightened for him. He was as much a prisoner as she was, though he’d chosen his servitude.
“Actually, I’m coming close to the end of the assignment, I hope. The supreme managers of each Sector and their primary subordinates come together every few years with the Amarotu overlords at a highly classified location. From all indications, the meeting is scheduled soon. Opherra’s risen to a high enough level of territory management to be invited, and I’ll be going as her second. Once I’m on site, I send a signal via a one-time app in the Mellurean implant, and the SCIA swoops in and captures or kills as many of the lowlifes as possible. Lops off the head of the snake, so to speak. I’ll have to testify against the Combine for a long time, but then I can get on with my life.” He toyed with her hair. “I had—have—plans.”
“If you survive.” Struck by a sudden thought, she blinked. “Doesn’t Opherra think we’re dead right now?”
“I sent her a quick text when I grabbed the truck, told her I was lying low tonight and I’d make my way to her tomorrow.”
His wording struck her as odd. “What about me?”
“I’ve been hoping for a chance to safely extract you, and this is my opportunity. When I leave in the morning, you’ll stay here, and an SCIA team will pick you up within twenty-four hours. You’ll be relocated, protected, I swear. I’ll tell Opherra you died in the fire. There aren’t going to be enough physical remains left to identify anyone. Whoever set up the hit used a combustible known as Shemdylann fire, consumes everything. Opherra won’t lose any sleep over your fate. You weren’t her asset.”
She bit her tongue for a moment, anger and dismay warring within. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “I appreciate the care you wish to take to safeguard me, but I can’t leave any more than you can. I must return to Opherra as well.”
“Are you crazy? I can get you completely away from these murderous bastards, where you’ll be safe. I can’t guarantee your life if you go back to Opherra’s control. She could order me—or any of her soldiers—to shoot you, or she could send you to one of her brothels… Miriell, I’d have to choose between the Sectors and you, and Lords help me, I’d do anything to save you.”
“Together we are the priestess and the warrior, the unbeatable pair spoken of in the most powerful legends of my people. Thuun has answered my prayers at last and set us on our path,” she said. It was clear to her, and now she had to convince him. “I must avenge my people. I’ve done such things in the last four years as to make myself dishonored beyond saving, yet Thuun allows me to take the power still. Therefore, he has work for me yet. If I go with you, I can help destroy the network perpetrating horror on so many, including my planet and my family. I…I could regain my honor and be worthy of a man such as you.”
“That’s right, you said you had a sister back on Devir 6, didn’t you? I’m sorry for your loss, but sweetheart, this isn’t some trideo tale of the old-time heroes. It’s ugly real life, and I can’t let you stay in the mix. As for being worthy of a man like me…” He swallowed hard. “I’ve done things I relive regularly in nightmares. I’m not worthy of you. I can’t promise anything, but I swear I’ll do my best to find you, wherever they’ve relocated you, after this case is all over. The SCIA will owe me the information— reuniting us is the least the authorities can do, considering my services rendered on this case. If you’re still willing, we can see where we go from there.”
She rose from the bed, needing distance to say what she had to say next. Swathing herself in the blanket as if in her ceremonial finery, she took a deep breath. “This isn’t your decision. I understand when I speak of Thuun and my beliefs that the words are nothing to you but fanciful stories—”
“I’m not trying to insult your religion.” His protest was instant and hot. Leaving the bed himself, he came to take her in his arms. “I’ve seen you in action. I respect the beliefs underlying your choices.”
Miriell nodded. “I accept the apology. But you must accept the reality of how I do battle in my own way. Last night at the restaurant, the tree gifted me its entire life-force, down to the tiniest mote, after the seeds launched. The sentient housed in that guise had lived thousands of years, and I now hold all the accumulated power. To what purpose, if not to help destroy the Amarotu monster at its lair? At this meeting you speak of.” Unbending a bit, she let the sheet fall and framed his face with her hands. “Too long have your commanders left you alone in the battle. I’m here to be your shield mate, the sword at your side. You need me.”
He held her so tight she couldn’t breathe for a moment. “I do, but I’d never take a civilian into this fight, much less a woman I care for so much, not when I could send her—you—to safety.”
“I stopped being a civilian the moment the Shemdylann attacked my world.”
He nodded. “I understand the analogy. But assuming for a moment I agree to take you on as my partner in fighting the Combine, how do we make it work? Convince me.”
“You tell Opherra how I saved you. Tell her I’ll help you search for whoever set us up. Make it clear you’ve done what she ordered and, as she inelegantly put it, fucked me, so now I’m even deeper in your thrall. I’ll do anything to please you, or so you assure her. With this much power at my disposal, I probably could get Bazin to have sex with her in front of his fiancée, if Opherra demands a test.”
“You don’t for one moment believe what we did, that my making love to you, was anything but genuine, do you? I’m not trying to manipulate you.”
She read his anger, his fear she didn’t trust him, his concern that her feelings for him would shift, that the trust between them was not strong enough yet. Conor’s shields no longer held against her, and the knowledge gave Miriell hope and courage. “I know the truth in your heart, my love. I’ll never doubt you.”
He released her, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. “I must be crazy to even think about the possibility of doing this. Of risking you.”
Thuun be thanked, the right words came to her, an argument she knew he’d have to accept. “If I’d been waiting for you here at this safe house with a blaster and my own warrant, if I was an SCIA operative, would you accept my help? Even if we cared for each other?”
There was silence for a few moments.
“Yes.”
“Well, then. Choose to think of me in that way, as a fellow officer. In a sense, one could say I infiltrated the Combine against my will four years ago, when they bought me from the Shemdylann. I’ve been in the middle of their operations, if not by my own choice as you arrived, but I fully understand their methods and cruelty. I am so ready for the final act of bringing them down. Don’t deny me the satisfaction.”
“I can’t think of you as anything but the woman I’ve fallen in love with,” he said, voice low and strained.
“And your partner.” She held out her hand. “We’re beyond a truce now.”
He stared at her for a moment before taking her hand in his and shaking it. “But I’ve watched your power drain away over time if not renewed. How will you manage after the first few days?”
“This was the entire life essence of a powerful being, in its own way. A priestess isn’t allowed to take that much from anyone. But it was a gift, freely given, in return for my blessing and help in saving the seeds, ensuring there would be a next generation. The transfer of power was nothing like the small sips I took here and there in the hotel garden and from the plants. I can hold this energy inside, in reserve with ease, until the right moment comes to unleash the gift upon those I hate. I’m a senior priestess, well versed in the intricacies of Thuun.”
“I think Opherra would be scared if she knew, which thankfully she doesn’t,” he said. “Can you influence her at all? Or is she like Jareck? Genetically immune?”
“I’ve only scanned her lightly. Someone like her is tricky to manipulate, and I was too weak before, as you saw. I’m not sure I had enough power at my command before today.”
“We’ll have to be careful.” He drew her to stand between his knees, resting his head against her stomach. “I’ll have to treat you as if you don’t matter to me.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, delighting in the silken weight of the strands, so unlike her own. “Together we can do this, I’m sure. I never expected to emerge alive from captivity, once I understood my people’s insignificant place in the universe and the forces against us. I certainly never dreamed of finding love.” Waving one hand at the house around them, she said, “These few hours we have together are a blessing, and I’m grateful.”
He pulled her onto the bed, and she came willingly. “I intend for us to emerge very much alive. I’m going to do my damnedest to mold future events to achieve our survival. When I was on my own, I was resigned to being on a suicide mission, my life a small price to pay to accomplish the downfall of the Amarotu if the situation went so negative. But now I have a new, overriding goal—I want you to survive, to be free.”
“With you.” She kissed him. “Thuun must be merciful enough to grant that we survive together or we die together, but either way, we must achieve the victory.”
“Now who’s the warrior?”
The return to the hotel and Opherra’s sphere of power on the next day after the restaurant bombing was easily accomplished. Miriell put on her tattered, sooty dress and Conor his dress trousers and the uniform shirt. Slowly, they walked down the narrow hall to the kitchen. “This house appeared to be so large from the outside, yet it’s actually quite cramped. Why the odd design?” she asked.
He rapped his knuckles on the wall, as if knocking. “There’s a lot hidden in this part of the building—the AI, secret data-gathering and transmitting gear, storage. The safe-house aspect is almost the least important piece of the structure. Even I only have access to some of the things in there.”
She asked the question that had been bothering her since their middle of the night conversation. “If you’ve been reporting on events automatically, then why haven’t these Mellureans done anything to help me since I arrived?”
Frowning, he shook his head. “I have no idea, unless it’s because the timeline on this operation is close to being over. They may not want to risk blowing the whole takedown on the Combine at this point just to rescue you. No offense. If you’d let me transmit an extraction request last night, the SCIA would have been able to get you to freedom later today with no suspicion on Opherra’s part.”
“We’ve already decided that point—I remain at your side to play my part in ending the Combine’s evil. And I’ll rely on our partnership to get us out of trouble, not on the Mellureans or anyone else.” She rose on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I trust in you.”
The last thing he did before they left the house was put the deactivated necklace around Miriell’s neck. Conor paused as he was fastening the clasp. “I wish—”
Sensing what he was about to say, she let her hair fall from her hand onto her neck and turned to him, putting her fingers on his lips. “There’s no going back now. Harder tasks than this lie ahead.”
“One step at a time.” He nodded. “Battle comrades. You watch my six—my back—and I’ll watch yours.”
“Always.” Going on tiptoes, a little off-balance in the high heels, she kissed him.
He swept her off her feet and carried her into the garage.
He drove them in the groundcar to a mass transit station and parked in the outer reaches of the grounds. “SCIA will have a team take care of this and erase our presence at the house in a few hours.”
“How can the Combine stand against such a well-organized opponent?” she asked.
“Like any other agency, mine is spread thin across the Sectors. The people in charge can only prioritize so much. Without sounding boastful, I have to say that not just anyone can become an agent either, whereas the Combine can sweep up the dregs of many worlds and employ them.”
Nodding, Miriell said, “That makes sense.”
He laid a finger on her lips. “No more talking about these things from here on out.” Sealing his instruction with a kiss, he led her toward the terminal.
He bought her a breakfast of fast food before boarding a gravlift train. Ignoring the stares of people around them, she sat hand in hand with Conor for the first few stations, and then when they transferred to another line terminating in the hotel area, she sat side by side with him in silence.
Conor took her into the hotel through the back entrance they’d used before and up to the penthouse floor via the servants’ gravlift. Today, the service lift was full of housekeeping personnel and others concerned with the smooth running of the hotel, most of whom studiously avoided eye contact with Miriell, though a few gawked at her torn and soot-stained dress. When the portal opened onto Opherra’s floor, armed guards confronted them.
“Hey, it’s only me,” Conor said. “Nice way to greet a guy who survived an attempted hit last night.” He put his hands up, subtly angling his body in front of Miriell.
She raised her hands as well and let a tendril of her power drift toward the two soldiers. The men were uncomfortable treating Conor like a possible enemy but too afraid of Opherra to stand down.
The closer one held out his hand. “Give me the blaster. If you check out okay with the boss, you’ll get it back.”
“No problem.” He handed over his concealed weapon with no hesitation. “What I really want is a shower and some fresh clothes. Decent breakfast maybe.”
The guards escorted them into the regular gravlift and down one floor to the business area of Opherra’s operations. They were shown into her office, where she sat flanked by two more of her thugs, blaster rifles at the ready. Today, she was all business, in a power suit, her hair in a severe updo, her nails painted black. Head tilted, she stared at Conor.
“Sit down and tell me your side of the story.”
He sat, and Miriell slid into the chair next to him, consciously assuming her façade of compliant and cowed prisoner. As calmly as if there weren’t four blasters aimed at them, he walked Opherra through the events of the disastrous night. When he reached the part where Miriell had warned him something was wrong, the crime boss’s gaze settled on her, although plainly she was addressing Conor.
“So the female saved you? Only you? And how did she know there was going to be an attack?”
Miriell bit her lip, unsure if she’d been given permission to speak. Conor jabbed her in the ribs. “Hey, the boss wants to hear from you, so answer the questions.”
“Yes, sir.” Smoothing the bedraggled dress as if nervous, Miriell said, “I didn’t know there was going to be an attack. I knew the manager and the waiters had been acting odd all evening, giving off waves of anxiety, which I could sense. I assumed the staff was intimidated by the fact that the Combine was present in a large group, afraid of giving offense perhaps. And then they suddenly disappeared without serving the last course, so I thought I should alert my controller at that point.”
“How nice of you.” Opherra’s voice was acidic.
“I have no wish to die, and I was frightened.” As always, Miriell stuck to the truth as much as possible. She was taking peripheral glances at the crime boss’s aura, careful not to linger with any scan. Opherra was suspicious, hostile, but also curiously excited. There was none of the anger or upset Miriell had expected to see at the loss of so many of her people, no discernible pleasure at Conor’s survival.
“We went off to the side to talk privately, next to the garden door, a moment or two before the explosion happened. Blew us right through the safety glass.” Conor finished the story. “Listen, let me take a shower and change, and I’ll get right on the investigation into this.”
Opherra shook her head. “No need. I already know who’s responsible.”
He sat back in his chair as if her words carried physical force. “Who?”
“Framter. He’s jealous of the promotion I’m getting, and I think he’s trying to undermine me at the last minute. Rub out my team, make me look powerless.”
“Framter?” Conor rubbed his jaw.
“Yes, I need to talk to you about next steps, but frankly, you stink of smoke, and I can’t stand to see you in a tacky delivery-boy uniform shirt a moment longer. Go shower and change and get back up here.” She waved the guards off. “Give him his blaster and get out.”
Conor took the weapon and slid it into the holster as the other Combine soldiers filed from the office. “Will do, boss.”
“And leave the performer in your rooms. I don’t need her right now. The Bazin operation will have to wait while we deal with this. I may hand it off entirely to someone else, in fact, and her with it.” Opherra’s vidlink chimed, and she waved them away as she turned to deal with the incoming call.
Conor took Miriell by the elbow and led her out of the office. They were both silent until reaching the privacy of his suite, and even then neither spoke of what was truly on their minds, mindful of the eavesdropping devices.
“I’ll take a shower first, boss lady’s orders, and then you can grab a quick one while I’m dressing,” he said. “I’ll have to cuff you to the bed before I go back to her office.”
“All right.” Miriell shimmied out of the wretched dress, enjoying the gleam in his eyes as he paused to watch, but then he disappeared into the bathroom, and the water in the shower ran. She wrapped herself in a sheet and sat down to wait, pondering the scene in Opherra’s office. Did the boss really believe this Framter was behind the attack? Or might she have set up her own people as an excuse to frame and take down the other crime lord? It was odd the way she’d canceled out at the last moment and thus stayed clear of the attack, almost as if she’d had forewarning. Or planned it herself. Could she have been so devious? Probably.If I’ve learned one thing in my four years as a Combine prisoner, it’s how complicated and seemingly senseless the machinations can be. Conor’s apparent status as expendable concerned her. If I hadn’t been there, he might well have died. Everyone is a pawn to Opherra. She resolved to warn him not to take anything for granted where the crime boss was concerned, although she was sure he was well aware of the danger.
“Your turn,” he said, interrupting her reverie. “The hotel always has plenty of hot water, but make it fast. I’ve got to get out of here.”
As she went by him, he caught her for a long kiss, but said nothing.
She rushed her shower and was out in record time, clad in a towel. Fully dressed and as unflappably debonair as always, Conor sat on the bed, wearing an expensive blue suit with a subtle pattern in the fabric. He tugged the towel off playfully. “If only I didn’t have to stay dry and had more time. You present quite the enticing picture right now.”
Grabbing the towel back, she gave him a mock glare. Her drab gray tunic and leggings were on the end of the bed, along with the utilitarian underwear, so she got dressed as fast as she could and took her place, sitting calmly as he snapped the cuff around her ankle. Silently, she showed him she still had possession of the tiny key. He raised his eyebrows and nodded.
“I’ll try to get some food sent up to you.”
“I’ll be fine.” Belatedly, she remembered the listening devices and added, “Thank you, sir.”
He leaned over to kiss her, and she whispered in his ear, “Be careful. Something’s off with Opherra.”
He squeezed her shoulder and left.
Miriell settled in to take a nap, feeling deliciously relaxed after the shower, tired and a bit sore from the long night of lovemaking. Whatever was going to happen next, she’d face it better prepared if she was properly rested. Sitting and worrying about Conor, which was her only alternative, would help neither of them.
Tamlu showed up in the middle of the afternoon with a tray of food. “Conor asked me to make sure you got something to eat,” she said. “Guess he really cares. Or at least he’s a nice guy. Busy day. This is the first chance I’ve gotten to stop by.”
Miriell didn’t comment but started in on the fruit and sandwiches.
Tamlu acted like a woman at loose ends and was definitely in the mood to talk. She wandered around the bedroom, peeking into drawers and the closet, which annoyed Miriell on Conor’s behalf, but she bit her tongue. The prisoner she’d been before falling in love with Conor wouldn’t have cared, so she couldn’t reprimand Tamlu now.
“Gonna miss Saviano,” Tamlu said, standing in front of the mirror and fussing with her own hair, trying out a variety of styles and pirouetting to check the effect of each. “He was Conor’s best friend, you know. Or at least the guy he trusted the most in this shark pack Opherra has. Things are getting weird around here, let me tell you. Do you know she asked me late yesterday afternoon if I wanted to tag along with you to the dinner? I never go to those things. It’d be a reward for all my hard work, she said, have a high-class meal, maybe flirt with some new guys. Saviano anyway. Him and me hooked up a few times.”
Goose bumps rising on her arms at Tamlu’s close call, Miriell broke her silence. “Why didn’t you come with us, then?”
Turning around, Tamlu leaned on the bureau and shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. Sometimes I get a feeling in my gut, and I’ve learned to listen to it. Opherra wasn’t ordering me to go, after all, so I said I had a headache and I’d take her up on the offer next time. She laughed. She was in a super good mood last night.”
Miriell had many more questions, but remembering the listening devices, she bit her lip and stayed silent. “Lucky for you,” was all she said.
“Yeah. I was surprised she was so cheerful. I know she told Conor to fu—I mean, take you to bed, but now that he apparently has, I think she’s jealous.”
“You said the two of them were over as a couple a long time ago.”
“Doesn’t mean Opherra wants some other woman to have him for more than a casual one-night fling. And I don’t think Conor’s the kind of guy to do casual. I’d watch out for the boss, if I were you.” Apparently feeling she’d said too much, Tamlu changed her tone. “Hey, are you about done with lunch? I’ve got stuff to do for her this afternoon, and it’s not my job to babysit you.”
Finishing the glass of juice, Miriell pushed the tray away. “Thank you for the food.”
Tamlu took the ruined black lace dress, clucking her tongue in dismay over its condition, and the remnants of the lunch and departed.
Deep in thought, Miriell found she couldn’t go back to sleep, so she experimented with the trideo controls and settled on an all-news station. Although she let it play for hours, there was no mention of last night’s events at the restaurant, which struck her as an odd omission. But maybe the Combine controls the news here as well as other things.
No one came to bring her dinner, nor did Conor return. Eventually, Miriell turned off the trideo and the lights and let herself drift to sleep. The sound of the door woke her an indeterminate time later, and she sat up with relief, yawning as Conor came in. At some point, he’d changed clothes and was now wearing a military-looking green sweater, camouflage utility pants and well-worn combat boots. He carried a blaster rifle, which he stood against the bureau before taking off his shoulder holster. Walking to the bed, he bent to kiss her. “You okay?”
“Fine. No one bothered me, and Tamlu brought me a late lunch.” She studied his face in the low lighting. “Are you all right?”
He stretched one way and then the other before removing the sweater and throwing it on the floor. “Long day. You go back to sleep. I’m taking a shower.”
Obediently, she settled against the pillows, and she heard the water come on. It ran for a long time, and she became concerned. Unlocking the ankle cuff, she walked into the bathroom, afraid to knock lest the listening devices pick up the sound. A really smart eavesdropper would figure out she could release herself from the shackles any time, and she couldn’t risk discovery, remote though the possibility might be.
Conor stood in the shower, arms braced on either side of the controls, his head bowed. She shimmied out of the old T-shirt she was wearing and opened the enclosure door, slipping inside and wrapping her arms around him, her breasts pressed against his naked back.
He straightened and laid his arms over hers.
“Are you all right?” she whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the running water. “You’ve been in here so long I was getting worried.”
“We wiped out the entire Framter operation today. It was a firefight, for the most part, worst combat I’ve seen in a long time.” He kept his voice quiet. “Parts of it were a slaughter, low-level people who didn’t need to die. I tried to avert some of the worst of it, but Opherra was unstoppable. She was drunk on the killing. I’ve seen murderous rage like hers in war a few times, and those people are insane, you know? I think she might have ordered the hit on us herself to allow her to take her ‘revenge’ on Framter. She’s always hated him, thought he was her biggest rival and obstacle, but today…today was something else.”
“Tamlu told me Opherra suggested she go with us to dinner last night.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Really? Unprecedented. Tamlu never attends any operational meetings. She’s personal support for Opherra.”
Miriell released him and picked up the soap. Squirting some into her hand, she soaped his back, lathering the tense muscles and massaging his shoulders until she felt the knotted muscles loosen. She stroked the soap over his lower back and then moved to his butt and the backs of his powerful thighs, coming teasingly close to his balls. She added a low level of her energy to the effort, hoping to relieve the tension thrumming through his frame. “Feel good? You need to relax, rest, be ready for whatever she does tomorrow.”
“You keep this up, and I guarantee we won’t be resting.” He turned to face her, and she soaped his chest, gliding her hand across his taut, chiseled abdomen and down to grasp his arousal. He leaned against the tiles as she playfully washed his balls and cock, taking extra care. Reaching out to cup her breasts, thumbing the nipples, he asked, “When is it my turn to wash you?”
“This bath is for you, not me.”
He gave an involuntary moan and pumped his hips against her hand as she wielded a washcloth to rinse the soap she’d been applying. “Yeah, tell yourself that, but I think you’re enjoying it too.” He lowered his head to lick her lips before pushing his tongue inside her mouth and pulling her hips against him. His erection was a hot, hard length against her stomach.
A moment later, he picked her up and instinctively she wrapped her legs around him. Holding her easily, his muscles more than equal to the task, he slid inside her, pumping with an intensity that signaled how close he was to finishing. She shut her eyes and did her best to match his rhythm, not caring that she wasn’t ready to orgasm herself. She’d meant what she’d said. This was for him, and she was pleased to give him release from the horrors of the day. The warm water cascading over them both was like rain on a spring afternoon on Tulavarra. She let herself pretend she and Conor were making love in a private spot on her homeworld, free of all the visible and invisible chains they both labored under.
He groaned and arched against her as he came, holding her so tight she could hardly breathe. She kissed his lips, and then he buried his face in her hair for a long moment before sliding from her body as he set her down on the tile floor.
“How did I survive without you all these years? I love you more than I can ever say.” His whisper was intense. “What would I do if I ever lost you?”
“You won’t.” Pushing his hair from his eyes, she held his gaze. “Any more than I’ll ever lose you, my heart. Thuun has brought us together, and no one can break us asunder.” She made her voice as reassuring as she could, although he knew as well as she did that nothing was assured in their perilous situation. Opherra and the rest of the Combine coiled around them in all directions like venomous snakes, waiting to strike at the first sign of weakness or betrayal.
“I want to believe that, but—”
She laid her fingers across his lips. “In this moment, what I said was truth. Worry about the future later.”
“Good advice.” He picked her up. “I’d like to get out of the shower now, Priestess, and worship you properly in a drier location.” Nipping at her earlobe, he gave her a wickedly mischievous look.
Miriell turned off the water, and he stepped from the enclosure. She snagged two of the huge, thirsty towels hanging on the wall, and he set her down, taking one for himself while she dried her own body. Suddenly, he tilted his head and focused intently on her hair, reaching out with one hand but not quite touching the strands. “Am I hallucinating, or do you have flowers blooming in your hair?”
Blushing, she stepped to where she could see herself in the steamy mirror. Tiny purple blossoms dotted her lush green locks as if sprinkled there by a careless hand. She touched a fingertip to one. “Only in the most extraordinary circumstances does a priestess of Thuun display the violamikri, the flower of true love. I thought them a legend.”
He came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms loosely over her stomach, kissing her cheek. “I’m honored.”
Leaning against his broad chest, she sighed. “And already the blooms disappear. But the important thing is that we both witnessed them, a clear sign of Thuun’s blessing.”
“Like flowers in the desert when it rains,” he said. He picked her up, towel and all, and carried her to the bed.