Born of Legend (93 page)

Not just someone. Tiradors. Hired professionals who specialize in toppling governments and starting wars.
They weren't just anyone off the street.

But Jullien blocked that thought and didn't say it out loud, since it would only start the fight with Trajen that they'd been arguing for weeks now. “I know, and I've been thinking.…”

Ushara arched her brow. “That tone of voice terrifies me whenever you use it.”

“Really?” Trajen said dryly. “It usually precedes something that pisses
me
off.”

Ignoring Trajen, Jullien cradled her hand in his and kissed her knuckles reassuringly. Ever since Thrāix and Trajen saved him, Ushara had shadowed him worse than she did Vasili. It was as if she was terrified of letting him out of her sight for fear of losing him.

While flattering, he could barely go to the bathroom alone at this point. Half the time, he emerged to find her waiting for him just outside the door. She was beginning to make him even more paranoid than normal.

“It scares me, too, Shara. But … they're able to pit us against each other because we're remaining separate. If we unite with The Sentella and the other Tavali Nations, they can't use us against each other so easily. We'll know what we're all doing.”

Trajen scoffed irritably. “We unite, and they will know
you're
alive and with us. Are you ready for that?”

“I don't care about them or me. I care about this station and all of you.” Jullien jerked his chin toward Thrāix and Ushara. “I don't want to lose anymore family.”

Trajen let out a disgusted sigh. “I'll consider it. But I think it's a profoundly bad idea. So does Thrāix.”

“And me,” Ushara chimed in.

Thrāix snorted at Trajen's evoking his name without his consent. “Excuse me? Thrāix hasn't spoken on this matter.”

“Yes, you did. You just didn't know it.”

“Oh, okay. How could I be so stupid?”

“Exactly. Stand there. Look cute and be my yes-man. That's your job. Be my unified whole against Jullien.”

“I'll be a yes-man, maybe. But I'm not going to be your hole of any kind.”

Ushara sighed. “Sometimes when I'm around the three of you, I feel like I'm at home, refereeing my children.” She handed Jullien his shirt. “No wonder you're so good at it.”

“Yeah. Lot of practice, especially when you throw your brothers into the mix. And don't get me started on Chay and Jory.”

Ushara's stomach sank as her gaze fell to the new scars that had been added from the explosion. To the ones that had torn through the tattoo over Jullien's heart. Before she could think better of it, she ran her fingers over the jagged edges of the rose.

Jullien pressed her hand flat against his flesh and held her palm so that she could feel the deep steady beating of his heart.
“Hæfre tygara ixur, mu sojara.”

Forever your darkheart, my rose.

Those tender words choked her. “Please remember that the next time you decide to cuddle an IED, I would rather you not.”

“Yeah,” Trajen agreed. “You're a little hard to put back together again. I think you ran out of your nine lives about fourteen of them ago.”

“Gah,” Jullien groaned, “the way you and Thrāix bitch and moan, you'd think you're the ones who lost the arm. Bite it, already.”

Suddenly, Ushara's link went off. Scowling, she pulled it out. Then she frowned even more as she saw who was hailing her. “It's a Porturnum frequency.”

Trajen curled his lip. “What could they possibly want?”

Jullien fastened his shirt while she answered it.

“Are you solo?” Ushara listened for several seconds. “All right. North Bay. We'll pull you in. Come out unarmed.” She hung up.

“What's going on?” Thrāix asked.

“The captain claims she has cargo for us. Something extremely valuable they salvaged. But she wouldn't elaborate or identify herself. She only said that she couldn't stay. She has to dump it and go.”

Jullien scowled at the vagueness of those words. “Anyone else getting an ulcer from this?”

Trajen raised his hand.

Thrāix snorted. “Mine went up in flames six weeks ago. I got nothing left inside me now but raw fury and indifference.”

Rubbing his back to comfort him, Ushara led them from the clinic, down to the bay, where they waited until the
Black Widow
landed. She turned toward Jullien with an amused smirk. “Well, I know who the captain is now.”

Yeah, so did he and every male there.

The ship was so named because it was owned and operated by Braxen Venik's insanely attractive daughters, and any male who tried to get into their
business
ended up MIA. The only males who were ever allowed on that ship were Venik's two eldest sons, Stanis and Payne, who were better known by the call signs Stain and Pain, as that was all they left of any male dumb enough to try and talk to their sisters.

But as the ramp lowered, it didn't appear that either of the boys were aboard, since they normally were the first off the ship to scout for any wandering penises that might venture too close.

Rather Circe Venik, the captain herself, came out.

Tall and lithe, she held the same incredible build as her Qill mother, Malys. But she had her father's silvery-white Andarion eyes, and rumor claimed his “calmer” demeanor. A male was with her, yet he was younger than Pain or Stain.

Kareem Venik, if Ushara didn't miss her guess. Circe's younger brother. Between them was a third person, who was cloaked so that no trace of gender or species could be detected. Yet there was something about the figure that seemed oddly familiar to her.

Circe paused at the bottom of the ramp and waited for them to join her. When she spoke, she kept her voice low so that no one could overhear her. “Do not betray us or show any sign of what we're doing until after we're gone. Understood?”

“Okay.” Baffled, Ushara glanced to Thrāix, Trajen, and Jullien.

“Kareem and I wanted no part of this. Don't blame my father. He's over a barrel, and they're screwing him badly. You've got to do something.”

Ushara scowled at her. “I don't understand.”

Circe met Jullien's gaze. “I left a message for you with our delivery. Do with it what you will. We have to go.”

Kareem handed the hooded figure to Thrāix, then the two of them quickly rushed up the ramp and closed it.

Stunned and confused, Ushara had no idea what to think about it. But there was something going on with Thrāix, who had gone stark white and completely silent.

Before she could ask if he was all right, he literally ran with the hooded figure toward the lockers.

Totally confounded, Ushara followed with Jullien and Trajen.

When they arrived, they found Thrāix locked in an embrace so flagrantly hot and intense, she was surprised clothes weren't flying off both bodies.

But the breathless laugh that rang out sent a chill down her spine.

“Mary?”

With her arms wrapped tightly around the Trisani, her sister peeped at her over Thrāix's muscular shoulder. “Hey!”

Tears welled in her eyes as she stared in utter disbelief. No …

“You're alive?”

Mary nodded, reaching for her.

Ushara ran to embrace her, but Thrāix wouldn't release his own grip on Mary. Not for anything. He was latched on to her with a jealousy that was as annoying as it was sweet. “I don't understand.”

“I was captured and taken prisoner when they attacked our convoy.”

“Ryna?”

She shook her head as a tear fled down her cheek. “They took a direct hit, without warning. There were no survivors on her ship. We got out on escape pods. Barely. I don't know where my crew is. I'm hoping they made it to some outposts or colonies. I don't know how they knew which pod was mine. But they homed right in on me and nabbed me.”

“They?”

“Nyran and Eriadne.”

Jullien cursed. “I knew it.” He glared at Trajen.

“They still think you're dead, though,” Mary said to Jullien. “And that Ushara is trying to get revenge on them by sending the Samari family to prey on their ships and supplies, and interfere with their plans.”

Ushara gaped. “You're kidding?”

Mary shook her head. “They're wanting to split the Tavali Nations and are working to divide us and have us at each other's throats so that we'll be easy to take down and destroy.”

“And your message?” Trajen asked.

“They're planning something against Jullien's mother. But I don't know what or when. I only know it's major and soon.”

Thrāix swung her up in his arms, and cradled her against his chest like a beloved child. “Now, if you don't mind, I'm taking my girl home and never letting her out of my sight again.”

“Before you go…” Ushara glanced down. “The baby?”

Thrāix smiled. “Sphinx is fine. I can feel him.”

“Thank the gods.”

Tugging on his sleeve, Mary made Thrāix turn around and allow her to hug her sister.

Ushara locked her arms around her as tears and love choked her. “I've missed you so much!”

“Me, too. I wasn't sure I'd ever see home again.”

Thrāix hesitated. “Can you give us an hour before you tell the rest of the family she's back?”

Smiling, Ushara nodded. “Of course.” She glanced to Jullien. “Believe me, I more than understand.” She pulled the hood up over Mary's head and made sure to conceal her features before she kissed both their cheeks and sent them on their way.

Jullien moved to wrap his arms around her shoulders and placed his cheek against hers. It was a possessive hold that he only used whenever he was having a panic attack over his fear of losing her or the children, and needed to ground himself with the reassurance that she was fine. While they had been extremely commonplace in the beginning of their marriage, they'd lessened severely over the years to the point that she'd almost forgotten about them.

But she heard his ragged breathing in her ear and felt the tenseness in his body. Stroking his forearm, she laid her hand against his whiskered cheek and let her fingers play at the edges of his once-again dark hair. For their daughters, who didn't want to be the lone Ixurianir on the station, he'd returned to the midnight locks that she'd fallen in love with.

Suddenly, Jullien's link rang.

Ushara started at the sound. Unlike hers, his seldom went off. The only ones who ever called him were her, Trajen, Vas, or Thrāix. And since she knew it couldn't be any of them …

Jullien pulled the link out and checked the ID, then scowled. “Bas? You in trouble?”

Bas? Unfamiliar with the name, she turned as Jullien stepped away from her to listen to the caller.

“Hang on a sec.” Jullien lowered his link to speak to Trajen. “Permission to land a
gadelyng
fighter in the North Bay?”

Gadelyng
was the Tavali slang for a friendly noncitizen who usually had military training of some kind.

“You trust him?”

“With my life.” He cut a meaningful glance to Ushara that warmed her and let Trajen know that he'd considered the ramifications of letting the pilot land.

“Then I trust you. Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Jullien returned to the link. “I'm sending the clearance now. Disarm your weapons systems and leave your blasters on board.” He laughed. “Nah, I trust you,
drey.
Besides, I know what a deadly bastard you are barehanded. It's to keep anyone else from getting twitchy and taking a shot at you, which would just piss you off and cull our Nation. See you in a few.” He tucked the link in his pocket.

Ushara arched a brow. “Bas?”

“Bastien Cabarro. My Kirovarian cousin.”

She exchanged a confused stare with Trajen. “I thought he was Ravin?”

“He is. I don't know how he got off Oksana. Or what's going on. But I do trust him. If he's here, there has to be a good reason for it. He wouldn't endanger us for anything.”

Trajen snorted. “And for that reason, I've got to meet a man who inspires trust in your pathetically paranoid ass.”

Snorting, Jullien fell quiet as he led them to the hangar, where Bastien was already landing.

In a Sentella Alliance fighter, of all things.

That was unexpected. Even more unexpected was the sight of him emerging from the cockpit in a Sentella flight suit and light Armstitch jacket. What the hell? This was not the unkempt refugee Jullien had been taking supplies to over the last few years.

This was the highly trained, cocksure Gyron Force officer who'd been fast-tracking his way up their ranks to one day replace his uncle as their commander general. The one no one messed with unless they wanted a free trip to a medical center.

At least until Bas cracked that familiar, charming grin and pulled Jullien in for a brotherly hug. Then he was just his boyhood cousin who used to drive his older siblings to attempted murder, and his parents into seeking priests for an exorcism of whatever demon had possessed their youngest, most irreverent and fearless child.

Jullien laughed when he saw that Bastien had kept his long brown hair and wore it pulled back into a messy ponytail. “What is this?” He tugged playfully at it.

Bastien shrugged. “A reminder that I'm no longer civilized, and I have no intention of ever again playing by anyone's rule book.”

“I understand. And I take it by your presence here that you're no longer tagged?”

“No. Syn Wade pulled it out of me. Finally.”

And that shocked him most of all. Just how tight was his cousin to his brother and The Sentella? “Really?”

Bastien clapped him on the arm. “Really long story short, they ended up on Oksana with The League hot on their ass, and I got caught in the cross fire. After a lot of bruising and damage, and a couple of near-fatal catastrophes, it ended well for me.” His gaze went to Ushara.