Vanquished (16 page)

“You are my chosen. I’ll protect
and defend you to the death.”

A huge tear gathered in the
corner of one eye before escaping the confines of her lashes and rolling down
her cheek. Vayne could have sworn he heard it splash down, given his heightened
senses and how in tune he was with her. He somehow stayed sitting, very nearly
past the last of his famed self-control. He might have gone to her, whether to
comfort or take her as his own he didn’t know, when the display signaled a
request to enter.

Neira broke her stare and faced
away from him toward the hull. Vayne shoved to his feet, grateful for the
interruption because he could see no way to breach the impasse. Time was
running out on all fronts. He keyed the door open and the panel slid wide to
display his medic, Stenlor. The other male’s eyes were wide with apprehension
and Vayne frowned.

“What is it?”

“Sovereign, I signaled you via
the com but there was no response. And I believe you must see this.”

Vayne cast a look at the display
panel. He’d forgotten that it had been set for bridge traffic only, considering
their current state of readiness. He reached for the tablet clutched in
Stenlor’s hand. Scanning the information, he raised his eyes to the other
male’s
, and the medic gave a confirming nod.

“How?
Do you have an explanation?”

“No. I’ve set more tests to run
while I came here, sir. We aren’t as well equipped for this kind of research on
the
Tomodr
but I entered everything I
had and what seemed applicable from the data banks.”

Vayne stepped out into the
corridor, using his bulk to force the medic along the hall. “You’re aware that
my chosen is resisting me.”

Bowing his head, Stenlor grunted
an acknowledgment. The little scene in the ship’s mess had indeed been bandied
about. But Vayne didn’t care. There was something momentous here and while he
had yet to process it completely, it didn’t feel horrible. A thought struck
that burgeoning sense of hope dead. He waited until he could be certain of
sounding as befitted a sovereign and not a man hopelessly enamored by a feisty
leicat
of a woman.

“Would…involvement with another
of our kind, even someone less evolved, have caused this ability?” The other
male didn’t know what had caused Neira to break
down,
only that she had and required medical support. He’d done the compatibility
testing at the same time, something else Vayne was certain he was going to
suffer for when Neira found out. But in the meantime the thought of Baraith… A
knife to his gut would be more palatable.

Immediately, the medic shook his
head. “Nothing in our files would support that theory. I thought of it, of
course, considering our species’ inclination to dabble with otherworld females.
But there would be evidence in her genetic markers and there is none. Your
chosen has never been bonded and nor has she borne children.”

“But if she has the ability to
resist—it’s not me? I am producing—”

“Yes, sir.
In goodly
amounts.
It was apparent when I determined the likelihood of
procreation. Your pheromones are more prevalent and potent than Leric’s, which
is why it is so puzzling. You and the Earth human are a near-perfect match and
offspring are a certainty.”

Only if he was successful in
getting his seed inside of her, Vayne thought ruefully, keeping his features
impassive.
“Near perfect?”

“Well, she isn’t Shadalla.”

“Thank you, Stenlor. Keep this
confidential and encrypt all files. We may soon be face-to-face with
representatives of the Home World and I haven’t yet decided what they should be
privy to. And, when possible, I want you to seek information on all the other
otherworld females and their Shadalla mates. I will personally consult with
Leric.”

The other man’s head tilted and
he got a faraway look on his face. The medic wasn’t only an excellent physician
but a brilliant scientist too, one who loved space travel. Vayne was suddenly
beyond pleased Stenlor was along on this trip.

Focusing again, Stenlor nodded.
“I take your point, Sovereign. This puts a very different face on things.
One that excites the scientist in me.
It couldn’t be something
terribly obvious and very unlikely any of the males would overtly share because
of bringing their bond under scrutiny.”

“Then get on it. We have but a
short period of time.”

“Of course.”
Stenlor took the tablet back and
hustled away. Vayne stared after him and weighed his approach with Neira. But
first he needed to speak with his executive officer. The sovereign never went
into war without every scrap of intelligence he could gather, and this was a
battle he intended to win.

“Vayne?”
He whirled to see Neira, wrapped
in bed linens, standing in the doorway. He hadn’t heard her move, hadn’t
detected her and surely that was a good portent—he had no requirement to
protect himself against her any longer. With the exception of his hearts and
soul, and it was far too late for that.

He moved toward her and she
shuffled into their quarters.
“Sovereign’s duty again, my
little warrior.
I’ll be back as soon as I am able.” He risked dropping a
kiss on her forehead, mightily pleased when she didn’t flinch away and even
leaned into him.

Stepping back before he gathered
her up and took her back to bed to show her what he’d just learned, and what he
hoped to confirm, he exited the cabin, the door sighing shut in her surprised
face.

Chapter
Eight

Neira frowned, feeling
her eyes squint and her jaw drop when Vayne vanished from sight. The damned
alien kept doing that. Her emotions were a jumbled, hot mess in direct contrast
to how chilled she was yet again. Damn the man and his lofty ideals. While
she’d accepted it wouldn’t be a quick tumble with him, she’d actually hoped
he’d compromise his long-range plan and lay with her, maybe a few times. Now
where the hell had that quaint term come from? She was no blushing maiden from
those ancient tales and he was most certainly not a knight of old.
No, only a
sovereign
.
She stomped to the cleansing room, allowing her makeshift robe to drop to the
floor before she entered the shower stall. It was easier to feel frustrated and
unsatisfied than to dwell on that statement he’d made.
The
one that both made her heart swell and broke it at the same time.
You
are my chosen. I’ll protect and defend you to the death.

Wrenching on the
knobs, she stood under the fine, heated spray and reached for the soap. As she
washed the signs of her arousal away, she brooded. Damn freaking pheromones. He
had such an unfair advantage. Not to mention the far more important peace of
mind he’d somehow imparted. But she couldn’t give herself to him fully. It went
against everything she was, now that her soul was healed.
By
him.
Argh
.

Punching the
unforgiving wall of the shower didn’t do anything other than make her knuckles
swell and she surveyed them glumly, flexing her fingers and noting the faint
marks around her wrist. She froze and cautiously turned her head, reaching to
turn off the cleansing unit, listening hard.
Nothing.
But Vayne moved silently, so he could be out there. Or someone else could.

She chose a towel
and wrapped the fabric around her, the moisture in her short hair dripping onto
her shoulders as she crept to the doorway and surveyed the cabin. Empty. Her
breath soughed out of her with an audible
whoosh
and she smiled faintly
at her paranoia. He hadn’t secured her before leaving and what might that mean?
Crossing to the chest where he stored the clothing, she lifted the lid and
spied the clothing she’d donned on the
Astris
that day of being boarded by the pirates. Even her briefs were there, and
she grabbed her outfit and pulled it on. The leggings were slightly tight
across her ass and she scowled. All that food of late by his hand and limited
exercise had caused her to gain weight despite the angst she’d experienced—or
maybe because of it—and her joints wouldn’t tolerate the extra pounds. A
soldier took care of her body or paid the price in the field.
You aren’t in the field, Neira.
Right,
and now she was talking to herself, if not out loud. She’d never been troubled
by this kind of soul searching before and no doubt that was Vayne’s influence
as well. She might not be a soldier ever again, but there was always a call for
mercenaries and defenders.

The polished mirror
reflected a tall, straight and slender form with spiky black hair. Her skin had
a quality it hadn’t shown for some time, clear and glowing. She was the picture
of health, and her eyes regarded her solemnly. Neira placed her hand against
the cool surface and nodded to the woman in the mirror who reached back,
pretending there wasn’t a crippling ache in the middle of her chest. She could,
and would, do this. She’d convinced the sovereign of her refusal to become part
of him, to complete him and lose herself. It had been apparent in the
resignation written across his handsome face and simmering in his amazing eyes.
Even the proud stance had been affected, and while it bothered her, she’d do
what was right. He’d find another chosen once this nonsense with the Outriders
was dealt with and all of the Home World made aware of the perfidy of those
monsters.

Humans no longer
tolerated such heinous crimes, at least in the short term. History would no
doubt fade and greed and need would prevail again, but there would be any
number of women willing to immigrate to Nibiru if that planet opened its
borders. Neira, although she had no talent for public speaking outside of
rallying her troops, would lend her voice to it. She’d help turn what could be
regarded as a vulnerability into an opportunity. And if the idea tasted sour to
her, it wouldn’t to others. Vayne deserved the opportunity too.

She examined the
display panel closely, having made the bunk, tidied the cabin and the cleansing
area and explored the contents of the chest and the various drawers situated
around the cabin. Locating her
palka
and dagger had felt like meeting old friends, but she left them tucked away.
And she tried not to think about some of the things she’d found. Shadalla sex
toys, similar to the ones she’d seen on the Home World, in different colors and
materials, filled two drawers. She’d forced herself to run a finger over them,
feeling them as inanimate objects, crushing the fantasies they created, and
slowly her libido had returned to normal. This was just another reason for her
to stand firm against him. He made her crazy with lust by merely looking at her
and being so unconcernedly naked in her presence. If he were to use other
things to wreak his sexual magic, there was no telling what he would expect
from his chosen when that woman
completed
him, for how could a mindless sex slave give informed consent? Her decision
bolstered, Neira had shut the drawer and put it out of her mind.

The display screen
could open up a wealth of possibilities if only she could access it but of
course it required a designated thumb or palm print. The sovereign had recently
programmed it to allow her to control the lighting and apparently the heat
levels, so it was pleasantly toasty now. She really needed total access. But
even if she could overcome Vayne how would she get his hand up this high? She
laughed out loud. Getting the drop on him was no longer part of her agenda—
trapped,
in space, remember?
But she itched to contribute to the upcoming
confrontation, contribute her military skills now that the issue of lifemates
and bonding was off the table, and wished he’d come back so they could have a
discussion. She absolutely wasn’t wondering how he might employ that curiously
shaped…what the fuck was wrong with her?

The door sighed
open and the subject of her thoughts sauntered in, causing her heart to pound.
Unbidden, her eyes ate him up from the top of his thick hair to the sizable
feet, and she convinced herself she hadn’t lingered on any parts in between.
Vayne paused and scrutinized her in the same manner and with a great effort
Neira kept her feet glued to the floor. Her leggings were soaked despite her
briefs and it was
all his
fault.

“I leave you
untethered and to your own devices and you promptly disobey me,” he observed, a
wry note in his voice. “Clothed and prowling my quarters.”

“Did you really
expect me to be waiting, naked in your bed?” Good grief. Was she flirting with
the man? Her tone hadn’t been sarcastic or even challenging. Neira had no idea
how to flirt. She’d been more of a get-down-and-dirty kind of girl because it
had been more about satisfying a physical need than about romance.
Never
about romance.
And neither was this. This was seduction by alien species and something she’d
obviously had no control over. Thank goodness it had been put to bed. No pun
intended.

“I’d hoped to find
you there.” She watched him advance the short distance to stop so close she
could feel his warmth. Could he smell her desperate need?

“I was cold.” Not
entirely true, seeing as she’d called for that temperature increase. The shower
had warmed her and wearing clothes helped. Not to mention her rabid fantasies.

Vayne obviously saw
through her subterfuge, seeing as his quarters were plenty warm, but he played
along. “I regret that. I keep the cabin cooler because we Shadalla aren’t as
sensitive to temperature, and I neglected to raise the heat when I left
earlier. But I do prefer you naked.”

She preferred him
naked too but this giddiness had to stop. Where was her earlier resolve from
not even an hour ago? Right out the proverbial window with her inability to
contain her arousal. “I’d like to discuss what’s going to unfold with the
Outriders. I hope I can contribute.”

The frown that
marred his pleasant countenance told her he didn’t want to entertain that idea,
and he confirmed it. “You won’t be any part of it.”

“I can help,” she
argued, reaching for that part of her that gave her control.

“Neira.
Little warrior.”
Wry humor and frustration warred in his tone. “I don’t want the Home World to
have further reason to harm you. I would prefer they not have a confirmation
you are on the
Tomodr
.”

“They might not
have that in mind.
Harming me.”
Sure.
Like it wouldn’t be the easiest answer.
Wipe her out of
existence and if it meant taking out a sovereign what did it matter to people
who still controlled the military for their own ends? They might even see it as
evening the odds. Except Vayne had Ambassador
Rush,
and Annis was no longer a threat, so her idea of exposing their actions and
educating the people back home seemed obvious. She told him of her musings.

“I like the latter
part,” he agreed. “You can be most persuasive, and the idea of Home World women
willingly offering to mate with Shadalla is ideal. But even if we can negotiate
with the Home World, Baraith is still at large and you could be at risk.”

“Why? It’s not like
I determine the outcome of what you intend for him.”
Unless
she got to the biggest monster first by some twist of fate.
That idea
vastly appealed, because she wouldn’t be a weak, unarmed victim, weighted down
by her memories.

“You are my chosen
and Baraith would take great enjoyment in dispatching you.” Something terrible
flashed in the depths of Vayne’s eyes and she tried to interpret it.

“He’d do that?
To deny you a longer life?”

She didn’t see him
move, yet she was pinned helplessly against the bulkhead, up on her toes and
nearly unable to take a breath. “To destroy me, Neira,” he grated, those turquoise
eyes boring into her own, full of lust, heat and pain. “I might not fade, but
life would hardly be worth living.”

He kept pledging
himself and she desperately wanted to acquiesce, so she thought instead of the
contents of that drawer and how she wanted to hang on to her identity.

As if collecting
himself and getting his emotions under control
he
set
her on her feet and smoothed his hands down her arms, muttering an apology. He
stepped back and an unconvincing smile curved his lips. “Might we talk about
something else?”

“O…kay.”
Neira slipped past
him and perched on the edge of the bunk, leaving him the option of the chair.
Déjà vu.

“I just spent time
with Leric and Victoria.
After Stenlor stopped by—the medic
who treated you.”

Right,
the other guy who had witnessed her breakdown.
She nodded,
wondering what Victoria and Vayne’s exec had to do with anything.

“Stenlor conducted
some tests on your blood.” At her stiffening, Vayne raised his hand in a
request for silence, not unlike the ones her former superiors had made and
Neira subsided. “He took a sample while administering medication when you
experienced the dissociative fugue.”

“I suppose being a
captive precludes any refusal I might have made,” she muttered, her arousal now
a simmering memory. It was good to be reminded of her circumstances and how she
came here, kind of like a cold bucket of water thrown in her face.

“I was certainly
operating within that purview.
Then.”

She snapped her
attention to him. Vayne sounded extremely apologetic and remorseful. “Excuse
me?”

“I can’t say I’m
not pleased that he did so, even if my reasons were perhaps something you won’t
appreciate. I wanted to know if you could conceive, although I’d already
decided I couldn’t give you up.”

“And can I?” She
felt both bitter and curious, and decided to ignore the latter part of his
statement for fear she’d curl up in a ball at his feet.

“We are a
near-perfect match.”

So there would be
someone out there who’d
be
a perfect
match. That helped to diminish her ridiculous urge to connect with him. Well,
no bother. She’d made her decision, after all. Neira pressed her fist against
her diaphragm but managed not to double over at the thought of him with that
someone else.

“Neira?”
Vayne knelt at her
feet and peered up into her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.
Just
a cramp or something.”
She took her hand away and leaned back, and
Vayne, after a long look, returned to the chair.

“Not only are we a
match, you are impervious to my bonding pheromones, or at least able to resist
them,” he continued.

That nugget of
information dropped into the swirling morass of her thoughts and she fumbled
for it, knowing its portent. Vayne waited, patient as a big cat but also wary.