No Limits (17 page)
“I said it’s not going to happen.”
Then we’re all going to die.
17
W
atching Rhys / Marshal argue with himself, the conversation only half out loud, was the most unnerving spectacle Gen had ever witnessed. Considering the events of the last week, that really said something. He remained sprawled on the floor, head bent at an awkward angle, eyes flickering from brilliant green to fathomless black, attention totally trained on her.
Eerie much?
atching Rhys / Marshal argue with himself, the conversation only half out loud, was the most unnerving spectacle Gen had ever witnessed. Considering the events of the last week, that really said something. He remained sprawled on the floor, head bent at an awkward angle, eyes flickering from brilliant green to fathomless black, attention totally trained on her.
Eerie much?
Her nerves had formed a conga line and were proceeding through her stomach at a breakneck pace. “Hey, could I have a vote in whatever decisions are being made? Is that all right with the two of you?”
Black orbs narrowed at her. “No.”
Her throat went dry. “Rhys, a little help here?”
The creepy eyes closed and he thrashed violently. “I never thought you were such a defeatist, Marshal.”
His skin seemed to ripple as though he stood in a wind tunnel. Gen had heard of being at war within one’s self, but this brought the old adage to a whole new level. Why did Rhys have to be so damned noble? From what she could tell, Marshal didn’t have a problem leaving her behind to rot. After what she and Rhys had done to him, why did that surprise her?
A small, scared part of her mind wanted to beg Rhys to leave Marshal’s body so they could turn him over to Zan and save their lives. Locking the cowardly sense of self-preservation down was harder than she’d expected. The only thing that held her tongue was imagining the disappointed look on Rhys’s face if she even suggested it. Marshal had made his bed, and the time had come for him to lie in it, but her empath wouldn’t see it that way. He wouldn’t be Rhys if he didn’t try to save the entire universe. The least she could do was support him.
That refrain seemed oddly familiar somehow. A severe case of déjà vu washed over her in a torrent. The truth dawned like a rising star, burning away the haze as it ascended to its rightful place in the sky. The least she could do was absolutely nothing except what Genevieve Luzon wanted to do.
What did
she
want? More than anything? The answer was so simple she felt like a nitwit for not figuring it out sooner. To be loved, by one man, who put her needs first, who held her hand and comforted her when she felt sorrow or fear. To not be placed on the back burner, her very life threatened because he had Important Things To Do. The problem with heroes, they were so busy trying to save the universe that they didn’t have anything left for the ones who supported them but a quick roll in the hay or a pat on the head.
she
want? More than anything? The answer was so simple she felt like a nitwit for not figuring it out sooner. To be loved, by one man, who put her needs first, who held her hand and comforted her when she felt sorrow or fear. To not be placed on the back burner, her very life threatened because he had Important Things To Do. The problem with heroes, they were so busy trying to save the universe that they didn’t have anything left for the ones who supported them but a quick roll in the hay or a pat on the head.
No one could save her better than she could save herself. Because no one had quite the same motivation. “Hey!” Gen pounded on the door with closed fists. “I wanna talk to Zan!”
“What are you doing?” Rhys’s—or maybe it was Marshal’s—question held an edge of panic.
She didn’t turn around. “Bailing my own fat out of the fire.” Footsteps echoed in the corridor, and she kept her insistent pounding up until the door opened and the barrel of a laser pistol was shoved in her face. Her hands went up, but she stood her ground.
“Take me to Zan.”
The guard smirked at her, his piggy eyes sizing up her cleavage. “He’s busy. How about I play with you for a little while instead?”
Gen smiled sweetly. “Sorry, I don’t do charity work.”
The butt of the gun slammed into her cheekbone, and a starburst of pain sent her to her knees. Air rushed past her, followed by a grunt and a dull thump and the guard hit the deck with a thud. Cupping her sore cheek, Gen stared up into green eyes blazing with the fires of the damned. Rhys had taken over, and he didn’t look happy. “What was that?”
“A plan,” she lied without batting an eyelash. She took his hand but released it the moment she found her balance. The laser pistol had slid to the open doorway, and she bent to retrieve it, but he yanked her into his chest. “Hey!”
Eyes flickering from green to black, he stared at her unblinkingly. “I ought to kill you right here.”
Shivering involuntarily, she watched for his deep inhale as fear ran rampant through her. “You won’t.”
He squeezed her arm tighter. “Don’t think because your boyfriend has been using me to fuck you means I give a shit about your welfare.”
She kneed him in the sac. He grunted and reached down to cup himself. Scooping up the gun, she pointed it at him. “No, you want to feed off of me, and for that to happen, you need me alive. My rotting corpse won’t sustain you.”
The malice written on his face faded, and he sucked in an audible breath. “You’re right on that score, little she-devil. Want to let me in on the rest of your plan?”
“No.” Gen peeked her head out into the corridor. “Where do you suppose the captain is?”
“Bridge probably. I’d suggest we make our way to a cargo bay, see if they have any two-person crafts we can borrow.”
Gen stopped at the end of the dimly lit hallway and poked her head out, checking for any sign that the crew knew they were on the loose. “Let’s say there is and we actually manage to launch it without killing ourselves in the process. What’s to keep Zan from blowing us out of the sky?” She arched an eyebrow and waited.
Marshal crossed his arms over his chest. “Truly, if you have a better plan, I’d love to hear it.”
She scuttled partway down the hall, keeping low, Marshal right behind her. Who knew what kind of tech the pirates had on board? They might be able to fry her where she stood, duckwalking because it made her feel more discreet. “I’m going to create a diversion while you and Rhys emotionally manipulate the crew into taking us where we want to go.”
His voice was rougher than Rhys’s, more gravel, less whisky. “What sort of diversion?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just get yourself together so you can take over without killing them, if at all possible.” Voices drifted down the hallway, and she flattened herself against the bulkhead.
Rhys touched her arm. She could tell it was him by the tenderness in his caress, even before she saw his eyes. “There are too many of them. I sense at least half a dozen souls on this vessel, and two empaths can’t manipulate them all at the same time.”
“How many can you handle?”
His gaze focused inward as he thought it through. “Perhaps four, provided they are not all as focused as Zan. And that is not for an infinite period of time. A few hours at the very most. Depending on where we are in the universe, it might not be enough to change our situation and then we are all at their mercy again.”
Gen blew out a breath. “What do you think, Rhys?”
His green-eyed gaze burned into hers. “Tell me how you plan to distract Zan.”
“I’m going to seduce him.”
“No.” Rhys shook off Marshal’s grasping bids to regain control. The traitor liked the idea, but Rhys refused to entertain it. “I won’t let you.”
She cast him a withering look. “Not your call. I want to do this.”
It felt as though she’d stabbed him in the heart. His mouth hung open before he rasped, “You don’t mean that.”
Gen tilted her head, and he winced at the angry purple mark on her cheek. “Why not? How is this any different than what I did with Marshal?”
He gripped her shoulder. “It
is
different, damn it. Zan could kill you.”
is
different, damn it. Zan could kill you.”
“Is that really what you are worried about?” Her eyes searched his face, and for a moment he wondered if she could read him as well as he could her. “Be honest with me, Rhys, for once. What do I mean to you?”
I’m ready to hear this.
Marshal stopped his desperate bids for control, and Rhys could envision him leaning back, his feet up, waiting for the fireworks to begin.
Just how much does she mean to you, this woman you fucked with my cock? Can’t be that much.
Marshal stopped his desperate bids for control, and Rhys could envision him leaning back, his feet up, waiting for the fireworks to begin.
Just how much does she mean to you, this woman you fucked with my cock? Can’t be that much.
Struggling with his own mixed feelings, Rhys muttered, “This is neither the time nor place to—”
Gen held up her hand. “Message received.”
Panic threatened to overwhelm him, and even though she stood directly in front of him, he felt her slipping away, her colors diminishing. What had he done to put out her fire? “What does that mean?”
She ignored him, studying the alien script decorating the walls. “Get Marshal back up here. He’s been on this ship before, and I need his help finding the bridge.”
“Please rethink—”
She glared at him. “Rhys, either you lead, you follow, or get the hell out of my way. Do not obstruct.”
He bowed at the waist. “As you wish.” Slinking to the recesses of Marshal’s brain, he let go of his control over every sense but hearing. In truth, her plan might work. At the very least, they had no other options. What was his guilt when compared with her life?
Don’t worry, old chum, I’ll take good care of her,
Marshal sneered as he regained control. Rhys didn’t bother with a response, the threat left unspoken. Vows of nonviolence aside, if Marshal betrayed Gen or failed to protect her, Rhys would annihilate him.
Marshal sneered as he regained control. Rhys didn’t bother with a response, the threat left unspoken. Vows of nonviolence aside, if Marshal betrayed Gen or failed to protect her, Rhys would annihilate him.
“Bridge is on the top level.” Marshal spoke low. “Captain’s quarters directly below that. Main engineering is at the stern, with auxiliary power adjoining the cargo bay. We’re somewhere in the crew dorm area.”
“My best bet is to catch Zan alone. I don’t think he wants to kill me, but if I approach him in front of his men, he’ll be distracted by their reactions.”
“Don’t underestimate him. Zan isn’t bloodthirsty, but he’ll do what he has to in order to get what he wants,” Marshal cautioned.
“Noted.” Gen’s tone had picked up a brisk, businesslike efficiency, reminiscent of Alison. A woman on a mission. One that no longer seemed to include him.
He’d been unable to read her feelings since the pirate’s attack. Was something blocking him out of her mind, or were his own feelings for her getting in his way?
The sound of Marshal’s footfalls told Rhys they were in motion. “Quit with the sulking already. You’re depressing me.”
Rhys didn’t know if the words were meant for him or Gen, and he didn’t really care either. Marshal could think whatever he wanted. He didn’t seek the other empath’s good opinion the way he did Gen’s.
Why was she so angry? Every time he felt as though they’d made a bit of progress, something happened to offset it. Now he wasn’t looking out for her; she was saving him. Maybe she just wanted to bed Zan. Variety being the spice of life and all that. Her emotions shifted too fast under the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and he had seen her with the space pirate. Was this her way of putting distance between her and him? Any sort of relationship between them was too complex, too many variables to predict what might happen in the future. Would they even live to see the start of a new day? Rhys didn’t have any guarantees to offer her—he didn’t even have his own body to help him demonstrate how he felt about her.
The one thing he did know—he couldn’t lose her.
“Hands where I can see them!” a new voice ordered.
What’s going on?
Rhys fought to regain control, scrambling against the slippery resistance Marshal put up.
Marshal, let me see.
Rhys fought to regain control, scrambling against the slippery resistance Marshal put up.
Marshal, let me see.
“Stay where you are,” Marshal muttered, though whether he spoke to Rhys or Gen was anyone’s guess.
Rhys ignored him and fought like a wild man. Did the newcomer hold some sort of weapon? Was Gen in danger?
Why did I back down so easily?
Why did I back down so easily?
“Drop your weapon!” the stranger ordered. Rhys snatched Marshal’s eyesight just in time to see Gen pointing her pilfered laser pistol at a young pirate, who looked no more than sixteen. They were in a medical chamber, judging from the healing pods on the floor. Panic radiated from him like heat from a newly formed star and his hands shook.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Gen’s tone was calm, her grip steady. “But I won’t let you shoot us.”
“I ... I must report this to the captain. He’ll be furious if I don’t.” His voice cracked on the last word, the bright yellow of nerves and a sickly green tinge coating him.
“I’m going to try and calm him,” Rhys whispered low, so only Marshal could hear. “Pool your energy with mine and maybe we can catch him off guard.”
Just let her shoot him.
Marshal made a disgusted noise.
Her weapon is set on singe.
Marshal made a disgusted noise.
Her weapon is set on singe.
“No one has to get hurt.” Rhys spoke louder so Gen and the young pirate both heard him. The boy’s gaze shifted nervously to Rhys, his grip on the weapon tightening.
Moving slowly, so as not to spook him, Rhys sent out a calming wave, drawing on his own inner reserve.
It’ll all be fine. Just put the gun down.
The message buffeted against the colors of the boy’s aura. Tension leeched from his shoulders, though he kept the weapon pointed at Gen’s chest.
It’ll all be fine. Just put the gun down.
The message buffeted against the colors of the boy’s aura. Tension leeched from his shoulders, though he kept the weapon pointed at Gen’s chest.
You don’t want to hurt her. She is beautiful, unique, a treasure to be cherished.
He projected his own vision of Gen, hoping the boy would see how she glowed, revel in the way her dress fell over lush breasts and womanly hips.
You cannot damage something so fine.
He projected his own vision of Gen, hoping the boy would see how she glowed, revel in the way her dress fell over lush breasts and womanly hips.
You cannot damage something so fine.
“What are you doing?” Gen asked out of the corner of her mouth.
Rhys took a reading on the boy’s state. “Helping him see your value. It goes against nature to directly harm that which brings us joy.”
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