Chapter 9

Since that burst of plasma fire and the threat to Lishelle, Tynan had been acting on reflex. His reflexes had served him well as a warlord, but only when balanced with stratagems.

The bold lady beside him made him forget strategy, forget everything except her presence and his urge to keep her close.

Although she didn’t seem to feel the same…

He sidelonged a glance at her. As tall and fierce as she was—like one of the battlemaids of Thorkon’s past—she looked young and lost, curled up in the copilot’s chair. And that was his fault. He’d dented her spirit with his high-handed ways—

“By the way,” she said casually. “You left the blaster on this seat, and I have it aimed at your guts. So you better stop jerking me around.”

He swiveled in his seat to face her, eyebrows arching. “And here I was worried that you would be thrown off course by all these revelations.”

She lifted one sculpted brow back at him. “Amazing how one’s nerves are steadied by holding the blaster.”

“You’d probably feel even more empowered if the converter was properly engaged for firing,” he suggested.

She hazarded a quick glance down at the weapon. “Which button is the converter?”

“No light means the weapon is not on. White indicates safety feature engaged and it will emit an audible warning to your target that they should stand down. Yellow is stun setting for most life forms within its parameters. Orange is lethal. Intermittent blinking light means the weapon is running low on power and should be set to ambient recharge or force powered from a compatible energy source. Solid red indicates that the weapon is overloading and an explosion is imminent.”

She frowned at him. “We’ll probably need to go over that again.”

He nodded solemnly. “Any time.”

With a sigh, she set the blaster down. On the side of her away from him, he noted wryly.

“You know I’m not going to shoot you,” she said. She rolled her eyes. “Not yet anyway.”

“My thankfulness knows no bounds,” he said.

She gave him a suspicious look, as if she thought he was being sarcastic. But then she nodded. “If there is a threat—”

“There is,” he interrupted.

She continued without pausing, “—to the station, the wedding, or my friends, I have to do something.”

“You are a brave lady,” he said.

Again, she shot him a disbelieving look before her glance slid away. “I…wasn’t brave last time. And I let Blackworm hurt people to save myself.”

“You couldn’t have stopped him,” Tynan said firmly. “You had nothing, no way to fight him.”

She trailed one fingertip over the blaster beside her, and his spine tingled as if he felt the caress.

“After what you went through, it is admirable that you’ve chosen to come with me.”

“Chosen?” She scoffed. “Let’s not overstate the case.” She put her feet back on the floor and leaned forward to stare out the viewport. The astral nav was charting their course through the Azthronos system. “Is that where we’re going?”

He zoomed in. “My stronghold, on the inner inhabitable planet.” He quickly tapped at the comm panel. “There. I sent a message to the duke and the captain about Radek. Perhaps they will treat him gently. Perhaps they will space him.” Tynan rubbed his temple. “Although…”

Lishelle had been studying the chart, but she twisted to face him when he hesitated. “What?”

As bold and brash as she was, she had a sensitivity that surprised him. “Radek said he spent everything to break Blackworm out of prison to kill him. But accessing a transgalactic penitentiary would be prohibitively expensive. I’m finding it hard to believe a Thorkon commoner had that sort of credit.”

She grimaced. “Just because he wasn’t of noble blood doesn’t mean he was poor. Maybe back in your day all commoners were kept under heel, but your people have gotten more upwardly mobile.”

He nodded slowly. “Perhaps you’re right. But then why was Blackworm disgraced for taking a commoner as his consort?”

“Based on what Radek told you, sounds like Blackworm was exiled for taking an unwilling girl.” Lishelle’s dark eyes sparked with anger. “That was definitely a bad habit of his. He deserved to die.”

The ferocity in her voice took his breath away for a moment.

As Blackworm’s breath had been taken by the singularity…

As a foolish young warlord’s heart had been yanked from his chest.

And here he was again, lording over a woman’s wants.

“Do you think I deserve to die too?” he asked quietly.

The fact that she didn’t answer immediately shouldn’t have disappointed him, since he could guess the answer.

She finally said, “I haven’t shot you yet, have I?” Her one-shoulder shrug gave him an inkling of hope.

“Yellow is stun,” he reminded her. “Orange is lethal.”

She nodded. “I’ll remember.” Leaning forward again, she pulled the copilot control panel toward her, reminding him that she’d been living in this new life longer than he had.

After tapping at the comm for a minute, she sat back. “I told them they should make sure Radek knows we aren’t on the station anymore. If you’re right and he had accomplices, then we need to redirect them away from the station.”

He blinked, surprised that she understood his implication when he hadn’t stated it. But he’d already noticed her intellect and sensitivity. “Did you tell them where we are going?”

She frowned. “No. If Radek was able to bust Blackworm out of prison, or had connections to do it, he might be able to monitor the station comms. I told them we’ll be in touch.” She let out a short, sharp breath. “And I told them I’m okay.” With a proud lift of her head, she stared him down. “Am I okay with you?”

Every part of him wanted to reach out and cradle that pugnacious chin—where he thought he detected just the faintest tremor—but he kept his hands to himself, to prove himself to her. “You are safe,” he assured her. “I’m sorry I panicked and dragged you away without explaining.”

After a moment, her lips twitched, and she lowered the aggressive tilt of her head. “You panicked? I’m trying to picture warlord panic.”

He half closed his eyes. “It looks like regular panic but with a blaster.”

She curled up again, her shoulder resting against the back of the chair so she could watch him. “Why’d you panic?”

“When Radek said he’d go after you…” Tynan focused on the shuttle controls, not that the ship needed his attention. “And yet I knew I shouldn’t kill him.”

She let out a gusting sigh. “That’s very, very wrong, Tynan.”

He scowled down at the arcing trajectories of the nav map as if they might give him some way to explain himself.

But then she put her hand on his tensed forearm. “But it would take a more civilized girl than me to not appreciate the sentiment.”

He perked up a little. “So I should’ve killed him?”

Her lips curled in a gentle smile. “No. But that’s why there’s a stun setting on your blaster.”

The sentiments of this modern world were even more complicated than its technology.

To cover his consternation, he fiddled with the environmental controls. “I’ve turned up the temperature so you won’t be chilled. When we get to my stronghold, there will be more suitable clothing for you. We’ll have a place to stay while the duke and his people lock down the threat.”

Lishelle nodded, and for the first time since the name Blackworm had been lobbed at him, the tension in his bones eased a little.

“This is a good shuttle, strong engine, but it will be some time before we arrive at my stronghold,” he told her. “There’s a small galley unit. Would you like something to drink or eat?”

She glanced back then pushed to her feet. “I’ll get us something.” She ambled toward the back of the crew seating.

He noticed she left the blaster. Another bit of stiffness eased out of him.

Not that he thought she’d shoot him in the back. No, if she was going to shoot him, she’d do it to his face, probably while telling him why.

Unable to hold back a smile, he rechecked their heading—while it was a good shuttle and he’d reluctantly grant the duke as much, the controls were new to him—and sent one last coded message back to the station that was little more than an exhortation that they watch their brides with more care considering how he’d made off so easily with the last jewel. Then he closed down the comm to prevent any possible tracking.

Lishelle returned with two drink containers. She handed him once and nodded at his murmured thanks. “I won’t vouch for coffee in a pouch, but I get tired of pixberry tea.” She took a sip from hers and made a soft sound in the back of her throat. “Ah… Okay, that’s not bad.”

That sound… He sucked at his drink to cover the surge of lust at her blissful expression.

He might be God of Beloveds, doomed to bestow blessings while never enjoying the experience himself, but seeing her simple, earthy pleasure at the small delight of hot coffee explained why his incorporeal essence had been drawn to her as he exited the black hole. And that was even before he’d had the chance to revel in her sharp tongue and sharper mind.

No, it wasn’t just his incorporeal essence that wanted her…

Needing to put some space between himself and Lishelle in the confines of the shuttle, Tynan left her perusing old news reports from the ship’s data core while he went through the shuttle with a scanner, checking for trackers. He really needed to show these youngsters how to take better care of their toys. Why, in his day…

He shook his head. He might be back, but those days were long gone.

Finding no evidence of trackers besides the ones he’d disabled by going dark with the comm, he returned to the cockpit. Lishelle was reading through the reports she bookmarked with a speed and thoroughness that he admired. She wouldn’t have made just a fine battlemaid but perhaps a general in her own right.

Without looking at him, she held out one hand, saying, “So I’ve been reading about Blackworm’s escape.”

With a wince at the topic, he deposited the second coffee pouch into her waggling fingers. How she’d known he was bringing her another cup…

“What did you find?” He settled in the pilot seat next to her.

She sipped the coffee, too deep in her studies to make that appreciative noise again, much to his disappointment. “The shuttle data core has most of what was available to the station’s systems before you cut us off.” She slanted a glance at him. “Thanks for the coffee.” When he nodded, she went on, “Authorities didn’t want to talk about the escape, obviously, but when they asked to send the bounty hunter, Nor—as part of his security duties—demanded that they share their internal investigations so far.”

Tynan stiffened. “Bounty hunter?”

“Guy named Idrin. Supposed to find Blackworm’s associates.”

“He could be useful.” Assuming the bounty hunter didn’t just shoot his prey on sight, unlike certain captains…

“From what I’m reading, there’s no mention of Radek’s name, but they intercepted chatter from a mercenary outfit linked to the crew that was captured while trying to kidnap IDA brides in Sunset Falls a year ago. The authorities assumed that Blackworm’s hired help went down with him in the dreadnaught last month, but…” She sniffed with clear suspicion.

A suspicion he shared. “That seems entirely too tidy.”

“Yeah. Idrin was following the payments from Blackworm to the mercenary outfit, and apparently Blackworm had some outstanding debts. They disagreed about whether he should have to pay when his rent-a-minions successfully kidnapped the IDA brides…and then got caught themselves.” She snorted. “Just can’t trust criminal armies or homicidal lunatics these days.”

Tynan sighed. “So Blackworm has an angry brother and a pack of unpaid killer mercenaries after him. Why did the powers of the Lightlands choose such an abhorrent vessel for my return?”

She closed down her reading and settled back in her chair, gazing at him while she cradled both hands around the coffee pouch. “So you really believe you are a god.”

Her tone didn’t sound like a question, but he answered it anyway. “I am.”

“I know some Thorkons who are deemed worthy”—she wrinkled her nose—“or at least noble and rich enough, become avatars of gods. But I thought it was more of an honor title than a…uh, real thing.”

“We had avatars in my time as well, to do the bidding of the gods.” He lifted his hands, palms up, to show her. “I am the ‘real thing’.”

“Do you have, like, magical powers or something?”

He tilted his head. “My blessing is not enough?”

The purse of her lips told him she wasn’t sure whether he was teasing or not. “Anybody can say a blessing.”

“True. And if it is said with a pure heart, it carries some of my power.”

Her jaw shifted side to side, as if she were chewing over his explanation. “On Earth, some religions like Hinduism and the Greek pantheon recognize multiple deities. Some of them are considered eternal, and some of them were raised up from notable humans.”

A sense of relief wafted through him, and he smiled. “Then you understand.”

“That’s not the case in my religion,” she said archly.

His smile faltered. “But you at least know about these other gods.”

Her dark eyes were hard. “I’ve only met the devil.”

Blackworm, of course. Whose face he wore. He could only say a prayer of thanks to whatever god had kept Lishelle from actually seeing Blackworm personally. Perhaps that was small consolation, but not adding to her visceral antipathy seemed deserving of thanks.

“We didn’t have those in the Lightlands,” he murmured. “Wherever they are, they aren’t there.”

“Because they are here.” Lishelle pushed abruptly to her feet. “I didn’t get any sleep, so I’m going to lie down in the crew seating. Let me know when we get to your stronghold.”

Watching her go, he wanted to call her back, tell her more about the fuzzy memories of his past, as man and god. But since he was the one who’d dragged her from her bed, he couldn’t say anything.

The bitter bite of the coffee reminded him that as perfect as she was, he could never woo her for his own. Not when the punishment of the goddesses haunted him still.

He might be a god himself, but suddenly he wished he did not believe.