Tanderon (9 page)

Most women deal with men who conform to civilized mores and behavioral patterns, but there was nothing civilized about Jensar the conqueror. Until you find yourself in the arms of a man like that, the cold clasp of his metal chaining you to his bed and presence, you’ll never really understand the meaning of helpless – or the meaning of relief.

It hadn’t taken me long to unchain myself, get the idol, and find my way out of the palace, but I’d had to kill twice to do it. The first time was when I was stealing clothes, and the second was when I had to pass a guarded door. That assignment was long over with, no more than a commendation in my file at headquarters for averting a war. But being held in Val’s arms had brought back the memory of it, the helplessness, the trapped feeling, all of it. I squirmed slowly, trying to get free, but Val’s eyes opened and his arms tightened their hold.

“The least you can do is lie still,” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. “If you do, I might reconsider strangling you.”

His eyes closed again and in another minute his breathing had evened out, but he still held me close up against him. I looked at the chest in front of my eyes that was close enough to taste, felt the grasp of the metal around my ankle and heard its rattle, then shuddered as quietly as I could.

He held me to him as if he owned me, just the way Jensar had, but he was nothing like Jensar. Or was he? And why would he want to hold me? None of it made any sense, and my own reactions made the least sense of all. The smartest thing to do would be to get out of there just as fast as I possibly could. That way I just might stay sane.

Getting out of there rapidly proved to be less than a snap. Ringer was already moving around in the sitting room when Val finally woke up all the way, turned me loose, then went to get washed and dressed. I sat up on my hip and looked at the ankle chain, thinking about taking it off and trying my luck again, but Ringer must have been tuned to the wrong wavelength. All I did was lift my ankle and jiggle the chain as I considered it, but that little seemed to be enough.

“Forget it.” Ringer’s voice came from the doorway, and I looked up to see him leaning against the doorjamb, his face still pale but looking considerably better than it had. “You’ve got a lot coming to you for what you did last night,” he continued in a growl. “If that chain comes off before I take it off, it’ll all begin coming at once.”

I stirred in annoyance at his tone and leaned back on my elbow. “How long are you going to keep me like this?” I asked, only some of the annoyance showing in my own tone.

“I’ll keep you like that as long as I care to,” he answered with a snort, then came over to sit down on the far side of the bed. That much closer I could see the satisfaction in him, and I wondered if it had a source other than my being chained.

He took time to stretch out on the bed’s edge and get comfortable before bringing his gaze back to me.

“I had some words with the Council this morning,” he commented, one finger rubbing at his jaw. “They had just returned to session after their lunch break, so I was put right through. I had a lot of time for thinking last night, and they were very interested in my thoughts. I pointed out that returning you to cadet grade would do us little good if we sent you to 2 where everyone knows you and you know everything about the place. Instead of it being a three month punishment, we’d be lucky if it lasted three days.”

Ringer was still gazing at me blandly, everything he said no more than conversation. I didn’t know what point he was getting to unless there were other Special Agents at 2.

None of the Agents First Class would get in my way, but none of them would try to help me either. Special Agents bend regulations too often, and it wouldn’t be fair to involve someone of lower rank in our doings. Special Agents swing a lot of weight, but Agents First Class don’t.

“The Council was upset,” Ringer continued, “but my suggestion calmed them down.

I asked why you just had to be demoted to cadet grade. Why couldn’t you really be made a cadet and started off at the Academy all over again? That way there’d be no one around to help you walk off, and you’d be in the middle of a system that was designed to keep you where you were put. You know what? They liked the idea so much they adopted it immediately.”

I stared at him openmouthed, having trouble believing what I’d heard. “But they can’t do that,” I blurted, shaking my head. “The Academy is only for kids. I’m not a kid!”

“Take a look in a mirror,” Ringer disagreed with a grin, pleased with how his news had hit me. “The way you look now, most of those kids at the Academy will be older than you. And if three months in Pete’s tender care doesn’t teach you something, nothing in this universe will.”

He laughed at me then, showing how hard he’d worked to even the score between us, and all I wanted to do was kill him. Being sent to the Academy was infinitely worse than just being given cadet grade, and if Ringer didn’t know it then no one did.

I started to crawl toward him across the too wide bed, mad enough to go all the way, but the chain on my ankle wasn’t long enough. I couldn’t get closer than an arm’s length away from him, and he lay comfortably in his spot, knowing I couldn’t reach him. I lay flat on my stomach, straining toward him, but I just couldn’t reach him.

“All you’d get out of that would be personal satisfaction and more trouble than you’ve had yet,” he told me softly, holding my stare. “Damn it, Diana, when will you ever learn not to make things worse?”

He made a sound of anger then and took himself off the bed, but I didn’t know what the hell he had to be angry about. I scrambled back across the bed and began to examine the lock at my ankle, then cursed aloud and threw a fist into the footboard.

Most locks don’t require a special lock-pick – any small piece of metal will do – but if the shape and design of the lock weren’t just camouflage, I’d need a magnetized pick to get it open.

I had that kind of lock-pick – in my luggage put away in the closet. I could have asked Val to get me that small piece of luggage the night before and he never would have known what he was getting for me. But I’d let Ringer’s upset convince me that waiting a short while would be better. Now Ringer was walking toward that closet, opening it and starting to pull things out, and all I could do was curse again and yank at that damned chain.

“What’s going on?” Val asked, standing in the doorway to the bathroom as he looked between Ringer and me. Ringer didn’t turn even to glance at Val, and didn’t stop what he was doing.

“Help me get this stuff out of here,” he grunted over his shoulder, glancing around in the closet to make sure he hadn’t missed any of the bags. “I think I remember what I packed in for her, but I don’t want to miss any of it.”

“I’ve never seen a woman with so many weapons,” Val commented as he went over to give Ringer a hand. “Do you issue that much to all of your agents?”

Ringer straightened up and threw me a glance before answering.

“Valdon, departmental rules state that an agent must achieve expert marksman level or the equivalent before they’re authorized to carry any specific weapon,” he explained. “Diana is one of seven who have earned blanket authorization, any weapon, any grade or caliber. I’m one of the other six. Let’s take these things to my room.”

Val paused to glance at me with a strange, bright look in his eyes before he helped Ringer carry my luggage away. I watched them go with a bitterness I didn’t even try to hide, then flopped down on my stomach again with my cheek against the cover, having no idea what to do. I couldn’t let them send me back to the Academy as a cadet, but right now I couldn’t see any way to avoid it. I pounded at the bedcover in frustration, but that didn’t help any more than the cursing had done. Ringer and the Council were determined to go through with their idiocy, and were dragging me right along with them.

Once my weapons were safely out of reach, Ringer came back to tend to his prisoner. He checked the bathroom before letting me use it, then went over my clothes with a microscope before letting me get dressed. His special handgun was in the shoulder holster he usually wore it in, but he’d taken off his coat before unchaining me. Val had been puzzled by the gesture, but I knew Ringer so I also knew what he’d been saying.

Ringer was faster than most at getting that gun out, but any coat will slow you down no matter how fast you are. His taking the coat off was both a compliment and a warning, an acknowledgment of my ability and speed, and an indication of his willingness to do as he’d said he would. I had a clear shot at that gun if I thought I could take it, but I’m not that much of a fool. Hand to hand I could have kept him from doing me too much damage, but I’d seen men die trying to take a weapon away from Ringer. I used the bathroom and then got dressed, and ignored the gun as if it were somewhere else.

When I was chained to the bed again, Ringer had food sent in. He and Val weren’t able to eat much, and what they could eat was all I got. A tray was put on the bed next to me, and the two men helped themselves in the next room while I was left to my own devices. As it turned out I wasn’t very hungry, so I drank the coffee and left the toast and cereal alone.

After the meal, Ringer and Val went about their own business, leaving me in solitary confinement. They’d even closed the bedroom door to increase the jail-like atmosphere, but I’ve been locked up before. If I can escape I do it, but if I can’t I wait for whatever might turn up. Ringer had supplied a selection of reading matter, so I chose a good murder mystery and got comfortable to wait for what might turn up. I’d only been reading half an hour or so when there was an unexpected knock on the door and then Ringer opened it to stick his head in.

“You’ve got a visitor,” he announced, and I noticed he’d put his coat back on. “Feel free to tell her any story you like.”

I frowned at Ringer’s comment, but when he stepped aside to let Jane Handley come in, I understood what he’d meant. Jane had been my nurse in the hospital section, and was the main reason I’d had to get out of there before trying a story on anyone.

Jane knew I was an agent, and had been watching me constantly to make sure I did things her way.

Jane was a good-looking woman in her forties, brown haired and brown eyed with more energy than had been good for me. We’d disagreed more than a few times, but she’d usually won. She now carried a small medical bag, and closed the door behind herself before starting into the room. When she saw the ankle chain, she stopped short to laugh.

“Now why didn’t I think of that?” she asked, one hand on a well-turned hip. “With patients like you, Red, it ought to be standard hospital equipment.”

“Very funny,” I commented, flipping my book closed. “All I needed was another fan. Why don’t you join those other two out there and start a club?”

“I already have,” she answered with a broad grin. “It’s called the ‘Don’t Believe a Word She Says’ group. I hear Dr. Forrester is the newest member, so you’d better take my advice and stay healthy. If he ever gets his hands on you, it’s the end of the line.”

“That’s where he’ll have to get if he wants a crack at me,” I told her, stretching some of the tiredness out of my muscles. “There are too many others in front of him.”

“That’s because of your winning personality,” she countered, then pursed her lips. “I might be mistaken, but I thought that that man Ringer looked pale. Is he sick?”

I remembered how strained Ringer still looked, and nodded my head soberly.

“You might say so,” I agreed. “He and Val made the mistake of annoying me, so I fed them Glue. It’ll be a while before they get over it.”

She lost the amusement she’d been showing, and one hand went to her throat in shock.

“You didn’t!” she gasped, her eyes wide. “That’s a terrible thing to do! Don’t you know why they call it Glue?”

“Of course,” I answered, distantly amused at her reaction. “It’s called Glue because it sticks with you. But don’t waste your sympathy on those two. They got exactly what they asked for.”

“Because of the way they punished you for trying to frame them,” she said with a nod, still looking disturbed. “When I first heard about it I laughed at how fitting the punishment was, but then I remembered just who they were doing that to. The thought made me wonder if you would do any retaliating, but apparently they didn’t wonder the same…”

She shook her head with a sigh, then seemed to shrug off the somber feeling as she gestured with the bag she carried.

“I meant to come by anyway, but this particular trip doesn’t happen to be a social call,” she said, beginning to walk toward me again. “I’m here to change the bandages on your wrists, and my coming to you is easier than the other way around. If you showed up in the hospital area again, we’d have to lock up Dr. Forrester. If you’ll shift over I’ll get started.”

By the time she reached my side of the bed she was almost smiling again, and as soon as I’d shifted out of her way she sat down and began to rummage through her bag.

“So, how did those two manage to get the best of you?” she asked while rummaging. “I’ve been wondering if they took turns, but they must have if you retaliated against them both. Now I wonder if they still think it was worth it, although they probably do. Some things are worth just about any price.”

“They may agree with you eventually, but it’s not very likely at the moment,” I told her renewed amusement, annoyed by her grin. “And by the way, how about something to drink? It can be anything you like, and I’ll hand it to you personally.”

Knowing Glue she also knew what I meant, but all she did was make a sound of ridicule.

“I’m not as foolish as those two,” she said, gesturing with her head toward the sitting room. “But I have to admit I know how they felt. I must have dreamed about doing the same thing to you myself at least a thousand times during those two weeks you were with me.”

“So why didn’t you?” I demanded, suddenly in the mood to look for an argument.

“Too shy, or what?”

I was more than ready for a sharp comeback from her, but I wasn’t ready for the sudden silence and sideways glance I got before she went back to unpacking her bag. I studied the short, brisk motions of her hands as I waited for her to say something, but her newly guarded expression told me the amusement was gone from our conversation again, probably permanently. It was fairly obvious what was bothering her, but even after all the times it had happened to me I still hadn’t learned to ignore it the way I should have.