Chapter 5

Blackworm? Here? Impossible!

Heart seizing, Lishelle whirled again to look behind her.

And met Tynan’s quizzical gaze.

Every muscle, not just her heart, cramped tighter as she slowly pivoted to face Trixie again. Nor had his blaster out.

Aimed at Tynan.

Whose confused, narrowed gaze widened as he realized the other male’s intent.

Lishelle spread her arms. “Nor! Don’t shoot him!”

“Shel, back away,” Trixie said with a calm, cool, murderous look that Lishelle had never seen in the small woman. “That’s Blackworm.”

“It’s not.” Lishelle opened her fingers wider, as if that would stop the lethal beam of plasma she could practically smell simmering in Nor’s blaster. “This is Tynan. He’s the officiant for the wedding.”

It wasn’t the scent of plasma but the tart odor of the spilled pixberry tea wafting across the room.

Tynan settled his fingertips lightly on her shoulders and eased her away from him. Her throat clogged with terror—and the realization that he was removing her from the line of fire. “I came here to bless the beloveds,” he said quietly.

She resisted his push, but the strength she’d found so delightful last night was set against her now. If she pushed back, she or he might stumble—and alarm Nor into firing. With a frustrated curse, she held her hand out to Nor. “See? Everything’s fine.”

With a flick of his thumb, a faint, menacing whine emerged from the high-powered weapon. “I see him, all right,” he snapped. “Trixie and I stood face to face with him when he was explaining how he wanted to invade the realm of the gods.” Outrage sharpened his voice. “With my girl.”

Trixie straightened at his elbow. “Did you ever see him, Shel? When we were being held here before, did you ever actually see Blackworm?”

Lishelle hesitated. “I… No. Not…clearly. Through the stasis pod cover, through the drugs…” She wavered.

The bore of Nor’s blaster didn’t even twitch. “How did you get here?”

She knew he wasn’t talking to her, since he knew exactly how she got here: like Trixie, abducted by aliens.

By…this alien?

She flushed cold, as if the eternal chill of space was leaking up through her body, fanning in invisible blossoms of ice across her skin. “He…came with the other guests,” she said weakly. “We knew there’d be some strangers on the station.”

“I review all the manifests,” Nor said. “Only estate staff and approved contractors have come aboard. The first guests and family aren’t due for another two day cycles. Definitely no clerics.” The whine of the blaster notched higher. “I’ll ask once more: How did you get here?”

Tynan frowned. “The beloveds. They need to be sanctified. So I came.”

“How?” Nor snarled. “Trixie, contact security and tell them to sweep the exterior for an unauthorized or shrouded shuttle—”

“The wormhole,” Tynan said abruptly. “I came through the wormhole.”

***

It wasn’t the right answer.

Tynan could tell by Lishelle’s stricken expression. Not to mention the raging fury on the other male’s face.

The smaller female—Trixie, Lishelle had called her—was tapping at the device on her wrist. “They’re searching on all scanner lengths. No signs of any docked vehicles, no record of any questionable deliveries. Running a review of internal sensors for facial recognition.” She glared at him. “We know who you are, you bastard.”

He wasn’t a bastard. He was…

A strange wave of dizziness swept him, worse than when he’d been looking up at the black hole…and looked down to see Lishelle for the first time.

Though he wasn’t sure what had made him dizzy then: the black hole or her.

“I am not this…Blackworm,” he said, adamant in the face of their rage and disgust. “I am Tynan, bringing invocations to the beloveds.”

The rightness of his mission settled around him, and yet… The angry Thorkon male was not wrong to ask. How had he gotten here? He’d said the wormhole, but how could that be? How had he traveled through space without a ship? Without even the memory of how he’d arrived before his glimpse of the black hole.

He pressed his fingertips to his temple, closing his eyes. “I am Tynan,” he said desperately. “I came to give my blessing.”

A whisper of air at his side made him open his eyes to see Lishelle backing away. Her expression was twisted with betrayal. “You told me you were a cleric,” she said, accusation edging her tone. “You said you were here for the wedding.”

“I am…” He gave his head a hard shake, as if he could jolt loose the missing memories. “I know this. I know the three prayers. I know…” He met her anguished gaze. He knew her.

As if she’d heard the thought, she recoiled.

“You know me,” he said pleadingly.

“I can’t believe this,” she snapped.

The smaller female, Trixie, hissed in triumph and lifted her arm. An image beamed upward from the device, creating a likeness in the air.

His likeness.

“Internal sensor images from the station before Nor disabled them when he came to save me,” she said, indicating one image. Another flashed up beside it. “Publicly available image of Blackworm on his way to prison for kidnapping.” She made a flicking gesture toward him, as violent as if she’d been triggering a blaster, and the two images flew toward him, framing his face. “And you,” she said with satisfaction.

Of course he couldn’t see his own face, and the two images were almost right on top of him. But from the others’ expressions—especially Lishelle’s—all three faces were the same.

Why couldn’t he remember? How could this be?

“Brothers?” Lishelle said in a quavering voice. “Cousins? Alien shapeshifter?”

“It’s Blackworm,” Nor snapped. “And if he doesn’t step away from you right now, I’m going to drop him.”

Tynan spread his hands slowly in the universal gesture of I-don’t-have-a-weapon-so-kindly-don’t-drop-me and took a gliding step away from Lishelle.

Her dark eyes were blown wide with shock. “It can’t be,” she murmured. “Nothing comes back from a black hole.”

“That was his whole belief,” Trixie said. “He thought he could bring his consort back from the dead. That’s why he was sacrificing us. He really believed the quantum entanglement and virtual particles would re-make his beloved.”

“The souls of beloveds are forever entwined,” he murmured. This much at least he knew to be true.

But if anything, the pronouncement seemed to only enrage the other Thorkon male. “So you thought you’d sacrifice my beloved to regain your own,” he growled. “You’re never getting another chance.”

Love was never lost. It was a constant in the universe, changing form of energy, maybe, but never, ever lost.

He bit back the explanation, since the armed and angry male showed no interest in a theological debate.

“I do not know this Blackworm,” he said with careful dignity, “but if he tried to come between you and your beloved, then he has done you great ill, and his debt to you and the universe must be paid.”

“Oh, you’ll pay all right,” Nor said.

“You can’t repay us,” Lishelle said. “Some of those women died. And the rest of us will never be the same again.”

His heart clenched at the pain that crackled in her voice. But he didn’t think she wanted to hear that nothing stayed the same, ever. Even love, though never lost, was a thing of flux, always.

She took a jolting step toward him. “Nothing to say for yourself now?” Her lips twisted in fury. “You were spouting poetry before this.”

“Lishelle—” Tynan reached out a calming hand to her.

“Shel, step away,” Nor warned.

But Lishelle had her own lethal shot to take. “You lied to me,” she cried. “I should never have trusted you.”

The words pierced him, more devastating than plasma fire. Love could survive lies, but not mistrust. “It’s not me,” he assured her. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“You already have.” She swung away from him.

Unable to stop himself, he reached for her again. The last thing he saw was the teardrop that trembled at the corner of her dark eye before the lancing yellow beam of light brought him down.