Shattered Soul (39 page)

“If your old crew could see you now - ”

“Never.”

“Sinya knows.” A smirk crossed her lips.

At the mention of the space pirate Beulah was mated with, Cormac grimaced. “That bastard has no idea.”

“Oh, he does.”

Those eyes, so cold when visually dissecting others, glittered a hot warning down at her. “Been telling tales, Learta?”

“Yes. ["+0, gNo.” She shrugged, one sleeve of her gown slithering over her shoulder and down her arm to bunch at her elbow. “Maybe.” Peeking up at him, she smiled with devilment. “Depends.”

“It seems you need to be taught to fear your husband, wife.”

She laughed in his face.

Cormac sighed. “Shit.”

She was still laughing when he bore her down to the floor, but within minutes her laughter turned to moans, and then to whimpers of desire as he loved her up the path to Eros.

Later, lying in his arms with him curled around her back, Learta looked out the space shield at the stars. Safe inside the ship, safe in her husband’s arms, she thought about those caught in the storm of her father’s decisions and demands, and what it would mean to everyone involved.

Cormac didn’t like her father, detested him in fact, and he hated visiting the fortress in the Inner Sanctum. Learta was indifferent to some of what happened, spending a certain amount of time there growing up would do that to anyone, but she could understand her husband’s dislike. Her disapproval of much that happened there and her calling as a healer, had been the cause for her to leave the fortress and travel. But regardless, she loved her father.

The Overlord. Father
. Her protector even now when Cormac sheltered her from so much of what had once hurt her. Everyone had a daddy, and even though The Overlord was far from anyone’s idea of a doting daddy, she remembered him holding her, nursing her, soothing her when she’d hurt herself. Regardless, she loved her father.

She just didn’t approve of his choices, and his latest decision was one she detested almost as much as Cormac did, though he wasn’t totally aware of everything that had happened, and she wasn’t so sure he should be, but she had no secrets from her husband, and she wasn’t about to start now.

There wasn’t a doubt in her heart that regardless, Cormac would always have her back while leaving the mechanisms of her handling of The Overlord to her. One thing he didn’t do was interfere in her ‘weird work’, as he called her dealings with Beulah.

In that, the ex-bounty hunter and space pirate were of the same mind. Learta and Beulah knew things they didn’t have a clue of, nor wanted to, and they were content to leave it like that, being there solely to love and guard their wives as they went about their ‘spooky, weird work’.

How much luckier could a woman get? Smiling, she tugged Cormac’s arm closer around her and gazed into the stars, relaxing in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

~ * ~

Inner Sanctum of the Outlaw Sector

Overlord’s Fortress

Pain filled him, not of the flesh but of the soul.

What he’d done had been necessary, there had been no other choice. Standing before the fire, he tasted the bitterness of both his own downfall and success. If one could call it a downfall or success.

His heart, if he still had one, ached. Yes, it appeared he still had a heart. Power burned deep inside him but he wasn’t sure what he could wield safely. He felt unstable.

Holding out his hands, he saw the dryness of the skin, the way his fingers trembled. He wanted to cry. Could he even cry anymore? Did he dare try?

::Don’t..::

His head jerked up, his eyes narrowing as he glanced around the shadowed room.

::Don’t cry. Don’t ever let them see you cry.::

There was no one there. A wave of his hand and the fire flared high, filling the room with light, but no one stood in the previously shadowed corners.

::Don’t ever show weakness.::

The voice was in his head. He touched his temples with his fingertips, frowning. Was he going insane?

::Never doubt yourself. Forge onwards.::

The voice was distant, light but angry, and definitely there. Closing his eyes, he focused inwards, pulling in, drawing up, moving through black layers, moving onwards into grey, pushing onwards... but he couldn’t go higher, couldn’t enter the white, wispy fog that drifted so far above him.

Denied to him.

::Never give them control.::

The words shifted, beside him one second, a warm breath in his ear, but when he whirled around there was only grey fog, such dreary, dreary fog.

::Who are you? How dare you invade my sanctuary?::

There was silence before the hesitant reply ::I felt your sadness.::

::Who are you?::

::A... friend?:: The voice was unsure.

The speaker, whoever it was, sounded young. Male? Female? He didn’t know. Calmer, he sought any threat. Yes, there was something. He stiffened.

::I’m not going to cause trouble. Please, can I stay here, just for a little while?::

::And do what?::

::Talk. Just talk. And maybe just... rest?::

He frowned. ::To what purpose?::

The answer was so long in coming, he’d have thought the intruder would have left, except he could feel that he wasn’t alone in his own personal sanctuary.

::I want a friend.::

::You don’t choose wisely, little one.:: His slightly sardonic answer almost surprised him, mainly because he’d come to realize that the intruder was young. That piqued his curiosity hugely.

::It’s hard to know what is wise, sometimes.:: A sensation of sadness tinged with anger slid through the grey, foggy wisps. ::Nothing and no one is always what they seem. Are they?::

:No, little one, they’re not.:: Relaxing a little more, he sought to find the owner of the young voice. ::Show yourself to me.::

::No.::

::You are in my sanctuary. Uninvited, I might add. It would be polite to reveal yourself.::

::I can’t.:: Anger tinged the voice. ::Can’t you just let me stay awhile? Why does everyone want something from me? Why?::

There was a sharp pull at his psyche and he wheeled around, sending out tendrils of black ethereal strands, seeking for the intruder. A ripping sensation had him reeling in spiritual pain, and something - someone - was suddenly gone. He felt the departure as a swift withdrawal.

::Hello?:: Idiotically, he called out, even as he knew no one [e komeone was there to answer him.

He was again alone in his dreary sanctuary.

Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath, hearing the wind whistle through drying vocal cords.

Someone with power had invaded his sanctuary, but now they were gone, and he felt... he didn’t quite know. A little alarmed, a hell of a lot curious, and yet oddly not quite so much alone. Someone out there had merged with him, had slipped into his sanctuary and as easily slipped out.

Someone angry and powerful. Someone young.

Someone Veknor vowed to find, if not soon, then one day, even if it took his lifetime, which could very well be... well, Hell only knew.

Or maybe The Overlord.

~ * ~

Lying on her side with her head pillowed on Fredrico’s chest, his arm under her shoulder and his hand trailing lazily up and down her arm, Rani marvelled that she had finally found a little peace in the hellhole of The Overlord’s fortress.

That she’d found it with the very man who had helped drag her from the welcoming arms of death and brought her to this hellhole was ironic. But if there was one thing Rani had discovered in life, it was that irony existed everywhere.

Shifting her head slightly on his chest, she felt him stir and, thinking he was going to get up, she stiffened. When he simply rested again, she relaxed.

The silence between them was comforting and she was more than content to lie in his bed, in his arms, and listen to the wind and rain outside. She wasn’t so content to listen to the distant screams, but it was a part of her life now. The thought brought a sigh from her lips.

“Are you all right, Rani?” Fredrico’s hand came up to caress her hair.

“Yes.” She gazed unseeingly across the room at the window. “You?”

When the silence stretched out, she angled her head back to gaze up at him to find him studying her with heavy-lidded eyes.

Fredrico smiled. “Very much all right.”

“You had me worried there for a minute.”

“I have no regrets. You?”

“None at all.” She snuggled closer.

His eyes, normally so ruthless, regarded her warmly. “Good.”

Returning to her original position, she relaxed again against his harder frame. She was so comfortable. Closing her eyes, she slid into sleep with Fredrico lazily stroking her arm.

~*~

Rani could feel his gaze on her as she polished the dagger. That steady regard had been on her for a while, ever since Fredrico had strode into her room, sat down in the chair on the other side of the table, and watched her polish the daggers. All without saying one word.

The silence between them this time wasn’t so comfortable. There was an intense awareness between them. She wondered who should break the silence first. Herself? Maybe with a ‘Thanks for the roll in the sack, you’re a great lover’?

Lover
. Now that was a word she wasn’t sure fitted the situation. Keeping her head down, she glanced up through her eyelashes and yep, Fredrico was leaning back in the chair, his elbow on the armrest and his thumb brushing lazily across his bottom lip as he studied her thoughtfully.

[y.

The man had a mouth to make a hot-blooded woman cry. Full for a man, sensuous, yet unmistakably male. She’d never noticed that until he’d used that mouth on her. His kisses could make a proud woman sit up and beg. His hot mouth made her nipples peak for another touch of that molten heat and that magical tongue. She wondered what that tongue and mouth would feel like in other places.

Liquid heat threatened to pool in her loins and she refocused on the dagger. Dragging Fredrico to the floor and ravishing him probably wasn’t a good idea. At least, not until she knew where his thoughts lay.

Another quick glance up through her lashes showed that his thoughts were definitely on her, it was just that his handsome face was so damned unreadable she had no clue if his thoughts were good or bad.

“You left my bed.” The tone of Fredrico’s voice was low and calm , giving no indication as to his mood.

“Yes.” She polished the dagger blade carefully.

“You didn’t wake me.”

“You were asleep. Didn’t seem any point.”

“You didn’t think I might want to take up where we left off?”

The damned blade slipped, nearly slicing her finger. Pursing her lips, Rani readjusted her hold on the handle and resumed polishing diligently. “I can’t say the thought crossed my mind.” But the thought was enough to make that intimate heat threaten to reappear.

“It crossed mine.”

“Really?” Placing the dagger down on the table, she picked up the second one and looked at the blade. She couldn’t say the satisfaction that slid through her was a mistake. “Been awhile for you, has it?”

“Been awhile since I lusted after a woman, yes.”

“Ah.” She fought the smile, but she didn’t bother to fight the recklessness that was making an appearance in her attitude. In fact, she welcomed it. “That explains it, then.”

“You like that?” He didn’t move an inch.

“It’s... interesting.” She flicked a glance up at him, and damned if she didn’t nearly let the blade slip once more.

Those ruthless blue eyes were bright with an almost unholy light. Lust practically seeped from his body. She could feel it, a sudden hot wash of pure, unbridled rapacity. It had her running her tongue over her bottom lip before she could control the impulse.

Fredrico, damn him, didn’t move an inch. His gaze was steady, his body still. Only his thumb moved against his bottom lip, drawing her gaze like a beacon.

God, that mouth of his...

“Having naughty thoughts, warrior?” His voice was like silk.

She cleared her throat and resumed polishing the blade. “Not at all.”

“Liar.”

Arching one brow, she met his gaze coolly, though she felt anything but inside. The lust in his eyes, the fact that he wanted her, raised a dark, reckless desire in her. He wanted her, and she... well, damn, she wanted him, too, but not easily. Hell, no. She wanted to bait him, felt the need to push him, to see how far he’d go before he snapped. So while a surge of heat swept through her, she kept her expression cool.

“Why, Fredrico, you hurt my feelings.”

“Why, Rani, does the truth hu [ thh="rt?”

Tossing the dagger and polishing cloth onto the table, she lounged back in the chair and rested her elbows on the armrests. Eyeing him from beneath lowered lashes, she smiled slightly. “I do believe you’re feeling a little... carnal, Fredrico.”

“I do believe you’re right.” A dark shadow crossed his face, picking out harsh lines and planes. “And I do believe you reciprocate it.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“Not only do I believe it.” Fredrico stood slowly, his gaze on hers, and he moved around the table with a slow deliberateness. “I know it.” Gripping the arms of her chair, he jerked it around with a strength that was almost impossible. “I can scent your arousal, Rani.” Placing his hands on her thighs, he pulled them apart easily and dropped to his knees between them. Closing his eyes, he breathed deep. “Ah, such sweet, dark, hot, arousal.” His eyes snapped open and the craving light in them was almost scorching. “You can’t hide it from me. You can never hide it from me.” Leaning forward a little, he took another lungful of her scent in an erotic intake of breath. “Ahhhh... such sweet juices of desire.”

There was no denying the liquid heat now. It pooled in her loins, deep in the secret woman’s place between her thighs. It pooled hot and heady, ready to spill at the hedonistic pull of Fredrico’s bidding.