Urden, God of Desire (18 page)

“You have something to trade? You know something, don’t you? That’s why the com, the bullshit. What did you find out? Who are the other two?”

“I don’t know.” She shivered at the anger dancing in his pupils, remembering his wrath when she didn’t please him at first so long ago.

“Give me something, Melia. Be a good girl.”

She held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut.
“All right, yes.
His daughter.”
Her face burned red with what she was doing. “She’s still alive. I saw her in Alga, in a little cottage rental office named…Folar’s Recs or something like that.”

“Are you certain?” A shadow moved behind Daschia’s image. He wasn’t alone, probably some other poor, stupid recruit he needed to train.

She shuddered. “Positive.”

“Very well.
Give me four days. I’ll have you called back then. Lay low. Keep those damned eyes of yours covered. You know better.” The image went black.

Melia sucked at her straw for a long time before she realized her glass was empty. Tapping out the command, she navigated the sharer to the game sites and entered enough credits for five hours of Toreiier. Her attention slipped into the game. She only hoped she could play long enough to forget about Enrue. Fire raged in her womb from his attentions. She could almost taste his mouth, smell his musky male scent. She clicked play and struggled to escape out of reality.

Chapter Twenty Four

Goodbye

Sima couldn’t believe Razi agreed to do it. She stared at him, dressed in the black garb of the rebels, his face covering hanging down, and a grim frown on his lips. What disturbed her most was the tip of the gun just visible over his left shoulder. “You’ll be careful,” she said. “Don’t get hurt. Let the rebels do the fighting.” She slipped her arms around him and raised her chin to stare into his eyes. His worry showed there.

“I’m always careful. You know that.
Too careful for my own good.”
He nuzzled her face and pressed kisses to her cheeks. “What a man will do for love. This is crazy.”

“Yes.” She dipped her fingers under his black collar and traced his skin, suddenly terrified she’d lose him. “Just come back to me in one piece.”

“They said it will only take a few days.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I can do this.” It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“You can do anything.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye.

* * * *

Enrue watched the vid of Melia murdering Jorin once more. He knew it was her. The eyes gave her away. It didn’t matter that it looked like Reicher. It didn’t matter that a man held the blade to Jorin’s throat and a man’s voice grunted after tossing the body to the floor. When the murderer glanced at the camera, a cold expression on his face, Enrue knew those cat-like gold eyes, eyes he’d lost himself in the night before, eyes he’d wanted to wake to every morning, to stare into over and over again.

What disgusted him most about the whole incident was that he still wanted her.
What has she done to me?
He punched the computer off and picked up her data sharer. No one had been able to crack its codes, much to his disappointment. Now that he had it, how would she contact him? Would she even try? He swiveled in his chair and stared at the bed. “She was using me, and I was an idiot to fall for it.”

He knew he had a com meeting with O’ka in an hour, but all the Shiemir wanted to do was sleep. He carried Melia’s sharer with him to the bed. Under the covers, he flipped it open and tried to figure out her password.

When his secretary paged him for the meeting, he sat up and took the com. “What is it?”

“O’ka.”

“Patch her through.”

The vid fluttered with static for a while, a byproduct of how far away the leader was. She bore a knowing smile. “Greetings, Shiemir. I have pleasing news.”

“You killed the Emperor’s son?” The war annoyed him now. He wanted to be done with it. If the nylenth killed all of the high-ups in the government, maybe it would be for the best.”

“Almost.”
She reached to one side and dragged a young woman into the picture. Golden ringlets of hair cascaded down her shivering shoulders. That black blindfold over her eyes showed with damp spots from tears. He knew her, the Emperor’s daughter.

“So, you have a hostage. Good work.” He shifted on the bed, recalling his own daughter’s body. An ache pained his heart. Empathy for the girl and her father was not an option. This way was direct. It would get results. He pushed away his emotions, angry they had surfaced at all. “How soon can you deliver her to me?”

“Two days your time.”
O’ka shoved the girl away, and filled the screen with her narrow, attractive face. “I’ve missed you, Shiemir. Do you think you have time between meetings to discuss a personal matter with me?” Her directness surprised him, but then, she was not in the same room with him and even so, her pheromones didn’t stir his lust.

He breathed deep, Melia’s scent lingering all around him. For a moment, he closed his eyes and imagined her body nestled against his. He’d slept so soundly with her there. The motion of her breathing had aroused him. Even now, just the thought of her caused his body to stir with longing. His cock awoke, thickening.

O’ka purred. “What are you fantasizing about?” she asked in a moaning voice.

He opened his eyes. The image vanished. O’ka bared her fangs, looking like a vampire with her fair skin and dark hair.

“Tell me what you’re imagining. I know the look of a man who wants.”

“I’m tired. That’s all. It’s been a trying day. Jorin was killed.”

Her lusty expression dissipated, replaced by the hunger for revenge and death he so often saw there. “Who did this?”

“One of my captains,” he said, hating the lie. “It’s all on vid. He’s being held for trial.”

O’ka’s lips curved into a sneer. “You should make an example of him.
Public torture, a televised death.
None will oppose you then.”

“That’s not my way.” He reached across the distance and set his finger on the button. “We’ll meet when you arrive, after you’re settled.”

She
laughed,
a lurid sound deep in her chest. “I look forward to it.”

Disconnecting, he sighed and rolled over, gripping the sharer in his fist. He had to have Melia back, had to know if what had happened was real. “I meant nothing to her.”

The double suns filled the window. He watched them for a time, contemplating his future alone. Before it had not bothered him, and in fact, it gave him a sense of strength. With his wife and daughter gone, there was no one else to lose. He could afford to take the risks he now forged ahead with.

He turned back, desire blinding him once more. He sent a com to his secretary, deciding he must get Melia out of his system one way or another.

“My Shiemir?”
She held a handful of card files against her chest.

“Nema. I need you to contact the authorities with a description of the Cossia. No traffic leaves Taraf without inspection. No man or woman may leave without an iris scan. Not even the taxi shuttles. I want her found and brought back here…alive.”

“Your will is mine, my Shiemir.”

Chapter Twenty Five

In the Rain

Rain pounded on the metal walkways, splashing up onto her pants. Melia stepped closer to the building in an attempt to shelter herself. Her eyes hurt from staring at the games for so long. One twitched every so often. She’d high-jacked the local police broadcasts and discovered the Shiemir had an all out watch on her. Shifting to the shape of the café bartender she’d last touched helped, but her eyes would give her away if anyone got close enough with a scanner.

She hugged herself, rubbing her upper arms to ward off the cold. Four more blocks and she’d be at a different coffee shop, a new place to hang out and hide. The longest she’d gone without sleep was three days. Four would be pushing it. Two streets over the high-rise hotel she’d been in with Collin beckoned to her. He would be gone by now, the night they’d shared a sweet memory he might think back on from time to time. She wondered what happened to her art supplies. She felt like painting at the moment, stripping off her wet clothes, donning a long shirt and standing before a canvas, melting into the creative state that had eluded her for years.

Instead, she rushed forth, sprinting as fast as her short, manly legs could carry her. Rain soaked her clothing worse. Her hair was a brown, stringy mess clinging to her face. She hadn’t cared for the way the man looked whose body she’d morphed into, but he was inconspicuous—just what she needed to lay low. Soon, the overpowering scent of roasting coffee beans drew her into the net café. This one was not as shady as the prior establishment, which meant more surveillance, less privacy and better drinks.

She seated herself at an empty desk in the back, ordered a Dark Knight and keyed in her password, accessing an untraceable account to keep her busy for the night. As she
surfed
the Tarafian web, she wondered what Enrue was up to. Halfway through her drink, she gave in to the undeniable urge and commed the palace.

His secretary, who never seemed to sleep, answered and narrowed her gray eyes. “Can I help you?”

“This is Lieutenant Heishim. I need to speak to the Shiemir. I have news of the Cossia.” Melia wondered if the old woman would patch her through or shrug her off.

“Heishim?”
She frowned and shook her head. “You’ll have to leave a message. He’s unavailable at this time.”

Groaning, Melia punched the key to shut out the hag’s image. She thrummed her pudgy, manly fingers against the plastic-coated desk and glared across the room. Tendrils of bhooki smoke snaked through the air. Its cinnamon scent calmed her somewhat.

“Hmm.”
She willed her body to shift back, lowering her head behind the monitor and shelf displaying news disks and magazine samplers. Skin stretched and changed. Muscles twisted and tightened. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. Pain needled all over her body until the metamorphosis completed itself. She felt comfortable as a woman. The first time she’d shifted into a man she’d spent hours in the bathroom exploring the intricacies of the male anatomy. Smirking, she tapped in the call number to her own data sharer, determined to see Enrue once more.

The tone sounded, a soft beep, barely audible beneath the din of the café. The screen flashed and there he was, staring back at her with his jewel-like eyes.

“Melia.”
He traced the screen with two fingers. The Shiemir appeared exhausted. “You used me?”

She swallowed and wished he’d just shut up so she could stare at him. Her boss would off him soon enough, or have another operative assigned to the task. This might be the last time she’d see Enrue alive.

“I was just doing my job.” She sucked in her lower lip and waited for his volatile reaction.

“That’s all I am to you?” Worry lines marred his forehead for a moment.
“A job?
A mark?
One more corpse to be added to the pile of dead politicians the Empire wants kept quiet?” He sat back in his chair. She realized he was in his bedroom sitting at the desk they’d fucked on. Tingles swept through her.

“What am I to you, Enrue? Why did you take me from the cell? Why did you sit with me that first night? What kind of game were you playing?” She gripped the edge of the desk, terrified of his answer.

“I don’t play games.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I never do.”