Morningstar (11 page)

Chapter Eleven

With help from the Alliance techs, the
Talon II
’s VFF drive was up and running again. The captain put Bryn to work, mostly to keep watch over the techs. Captain Hawke called a meeting once the ship was underway, and apparently the topic was important enough to pull Jace out of his quarters—for a short time, at least. He eyed Bryn with concern when he entered, but she kept her focus on the captain. Bryn would deal with the second son later.

“What did you find?” Captain Hawke asked Malcolm.

The indexer ran a hand through his unkempt hair and glared at the
Talon II
’s assembled officers.

“The data you gave me isn’t relevant to the Lazarus project.”

“But you did decrypt it?” she prompted.

Malcolm frowned. “Of course I decrypted it. Whoever wrote it was barely literate. A child could have decrypted it. That’s not my point. It’s not what you’re looking for. It isn’t even from the same organization.”

Bryn doubted that a child could really decrypt it—maybe a child indexer—but she believed that his frustration was genuine. She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay. We understand.”

She noticed two results from her friendly gesture—Malcolm calmed, and Jace tensed.

“What is the Lazarus project?” Bryn asked.

“We’re not sure yet,” Captain Hawke replied. “When we liberated Nepheros, the Eppes personnel wiped the facility’s data core. Nepheros was once a Sunsinger mining colony, but House Nightfall acquired it after the Sunsinger ruling family was massacred. The Eppes were using it for slaving, with a side of bioweapon research. We’ve managed to restore some of the files, and the resistance hired several indexers to search for more information.”

“House Morningstar and House Sunsinger hired several indexers,” Jace corrected. “House Nightfall blocked the resistance’s involvement when it was proposed to the high council, because they fear that we will find concrete evidence linking House Nightfall to the Eppes organization.”

Bryn frowned. “Why are they working together? I thought they supported the ban on slavery?”

“Only on the surface. Apparently Lord Bildanen feels that independence is a failed experiment, and we should return to our old ways. With him in charge, of course,” Jace said. “Officially he’s denying any involvement, but it looks as though a great deal of House Nightfall’s profits can be linked back to the Eppes.”

“Denial is one thing, killing three indexers and destroying two jump stations to cover up your involvement is another,” Malcolm said. “Look, I uploaded what I found. You can do whatever you want with it. I still need a stronger signal to continue searching for the location of the Lazarus testing facility.”

Captain Hawke nodded. “We should reach Cyprena in seventy-two hours. They’ll have the facilities you need there.”

“Seventy-two hours?” Jace’s pale brows rose in surprise.

“Yes. Is there a problem, Lieutenant Commander?” Captain Hawke asked.

“Sabine is still in phase,” he said.

“I am aware of that. We’ll notify Sunsinger operations when we arrive and warn them to take the proper precautions.”

“Why Sunsinger operations? Why not the Morningstar enclave?” Jace asked.

“Because…” The captain trailed off.

Jace folded his hands. “The Morningstar archives are just as extensive as the Sunsinger archive. I understand that you miss your mates, but you cannot run to the Sunsingers every time you have a problem.”

“You’d prefer that we run to your house with our problems?” she countered. For a moment Bryn thought she was about to hit him, but instead she glared her disapproval.

“It would set a good precedent.”

Captain Hawke pondered that for a few moments before nodding in reluctant agreement. “Fine. We’ll head there then.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Jace said.

“May I ask, did Captain Gleason explain why he mentioned the Parcola colony?” Bryn asked.

“Apparently that’s why the
Adamant
was in the area. They were on their way to investigate why the colony’s communications are down when they received the distress call from the jump station.” Captain Hawke shrugged. “Alliance colonies aren’t our problem. You’re all dismissed. Harrow and Viera, you’re off-duty until we arrive at Cyprena. Try not to sprain anything in the meantime.”

“Yes sir,” Bryn said. The captain left, and Commander Soth snickered as he followed. Continuing to ignore Jace, Bryn smiled reassuringly at Malcolm. “Are you okay? Are they treating you well?”

“I’m fine, yes, though…” He trailed off and eyed Jace warily.

Bryn peered up at him. “Can you give us a moment?”

Jace’s eyes narrowed. “I thought your professional cock-sucking days were over.”

She flinched as though he’d punched her in the gut, but then squared her shoulders and stared him down. “They are. I want to talk to him, not give him a freebie. If you need an activity, you can bring Sabine dinner.”

Jace had enough sense to look chagrined, and then stalked out of the room. Malcolm winced, pulled his specs off and started fidgeting with them.

“Sorry, Bryn. Didn’t mean to cause trouble with your mate.”

“Don’t worry about it. The phase makes males extra territorial. I’ll kick his ass and make him apologize later. What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t do very well on my own. Alexi took care of the business end of things. He took care of a lot of things, and…I’m not sure I’m supposed to be helping the resistance. Not just for free, though I owe them for rescuing me. It’s more than that.”

“You’re afraid that the other indexers will be upset with you?” she guessed. The indexers worked together in a kind of network, so it would make sense that they would disapprove if they thought one of theirs had gone rogue.

“Yes. No. Well, I’m afraid my master wouldn’t like it.”

Bryn frowned in confusion, and Malcolm tugged down the high collar of his shirt to reveal a slave mark tattooed on his throat. She’d heard that there were human slaves in the Syndicate systems, but she’d never seen one. It explained why he’d never gotten naked above the waist during his visits to the brothel. Like any slave, he was probably ashamed of his mark, though marks of this sort were a Cy’ren tradition, not a human one.

“Cyprena is an independent world,” she said. “Your master can’t touch you there. I’m sure the Cy’ren will offer you asylum.”

“If I agree to work for them.” Malcolm sighed and shook his head.

“It’s for a good cause.”

“Alexi said good causes never pay well.”

Bryn laughed. “True enough. But they help you sleep better at night. You might want to talk to the captain about this. Her mate is Lord Degalen’s sister. She could probably set you up with a nice, comfy job with the Sunsingers. And I’ll let Jace know. His father is a ruling lord.”

Malcolm nodded and put his spectacles back on. “Are
you
okay?”

“I’m fully clothed. It’s an improvement.” She smiled dryly, and he blinked up at her.

“You looked good naked.” Malcolm winced. “That’s not what I meant. Well, it is what I
meant
, just not—”

Bryn patted him on the arm. “It’s all right, I get it. I don’t mind. If you want me to help you get set up on Cyprena, or arrange asylum, I will.”

Malcolm smiled. “Thanks, Bryn.”

“I’ll walk you back to your quarters. You could probably use some rest after all that decrypting.”

Sabine had no purpose aboard the ship other than to indulge in the phase with her mate. With both Jace and Bryn gone, she had nothing to occupy herself with, and waited impatiently for their return. As a slave, Sabine was no stranger to empty hours. Some of her former masters tended to forget about their slaves when they were out of sight, as unconcerned about the slaves’ welfare as they would be about the whereabouts of an old pair of boots. Once the phase was over she assumed she would be able to leave Jace’s quarters and visit other areas of the ship—like the galley, to find food that didn’t look and taste like mud—but for now, she was stuck.

The periods of clarity that had finally come with the long-awaited progress in Sabine’s phase were a double-edged sword. She was grateful to be able to think without the constant press of lust clouding her mind, but when the hunger lifted it left her filled with a different desire. Sabine’s skin itched and her hands shook until she balled them into fists, tangled in the bed sheets. She wanted the sweet high of the uppers and the numb oblivion they brought like a child desperately craving a sweet when there were none to be had.

Her heart leapt when the door opened and Jace returned to the room. He was scowling but appeared unharmed.

“What’s wrong? Are you all right? Is Bryn?” Sabine chased after him as he stalked toward his locker to shed his coat.

“Yes, we’re both fine. She’s speaking with the indexer.” Jace growled under his breath as he tugged the garment off.

“Is that bad?”

“No.”

“Then why are you angry?” Curious, she peered at him more closely.

“I’m not angry,” he snapped.

With a sharp gasp, Sabine immediately stepped out of arm’s reach. Though he didn’t seem the sort to strike others during a fit of temper, she had been wrong before. Sometimes otherwise amiable people were the most violent when angered.

Jace looked up at her movement and then froze in mid-motion, his shirt half-unfastened. “I apologize. I would never hurt you.”

She eyed him warily, unsure of what to do. Deciding to give him space to cool down, she backed toward the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. Sabine watched in silence as he finished stripping, her lust simmering to a boil as more of his dark skin was revealed. Then he stood and paused again, eyeing her with predatory desire but taking a calming breath.

“Are you hungry? Bryn suggested I bring you dinner, but it slipped my mind.”

“No, thank you.”

“How are you feeling?” His gaze drifted to her hands, and she realized that she was clenching the sheets again to stop their shaking.

Sabine squared her shoulders. “Dr. Morgan said withdrawal was normal. She can’t do anything to help it.”

“I’m sorry.” Jace slowly crossed to her and knelt before her, taking her hands into his. Sabine’s pulse leapt as he massaged his thumbs over her knuckles, and then his hands traced a slow trail up her forearms before moving to rest at her waist. “I wish I could help you.”

“You are, in a way. You’re helping with the phase, but…” She trailed off.

“But?” he prompted.

“But this isn’t freedom,” Sabine blurted. She winced at her honesty, but forged ahead. “Bryn and I used to talk about what we’d do when we were free. I’ve never been able to do what I wanted. I’ve always been at the mercy of a master. Being with Bryn was the first time I did something because I wanted to, not because I was ordered to, or it was expected of me. I love her.”

She swallowed hard past the sudden lump in her throat as she brushed a lock of hair out of his face. Her fingers tingled as she caressed his cheek—Jace radiated desire, burning with passion and deep sincerity, but there was a different hunger as well. Jace was so alone…rejected by his family, his crew, and now, he feared, even his mates. He longed for affection like a starving man hungered for a scrap of food.

“I know you want us to be able to do what we want, but that’s something I’ve never had,” Sabine said. “I never had a choice in where I went or what I would be in life. Everything I am, who I’ve been, has always been decided for me. I want to be able to decide for myself.”

Jace nodded slowly. “What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know yet. But I want the chance to learn what my options are.” If she had any options left to her, other than being his mate. Sabine sighed, and Jace leaned close and nuzzled her throat, just above her new mate marks.

“Well when you do know, tell me. I’ll do everything I can to see that it happens.”

She quirked a brow. “Even if I want to fly starships and fight slavers?”

“Only if you promise not to shoot me,” he replied gravely, and she giggled. “Perhaps after you’ve met with Andee and done some
aleithir
training, you’ll have a better idea of what you wish to do.”

They both turned at the sound of the door opening, and Bryn entered. Sabine rose and tackled her lover in a fierce hug. “Where were you?”

Bryn held her tight and kissed the top of her head. “On the bridge. Then I was on the
Adamant
. I’m sorry I couldn’t get word to you. Of course then I had to take time out to suck the indexer off for the hell of it. I’m rather tired now.”

Sabine frowned up at Bryn, who was busy glaring at Jace. That explained the source of his temper. Jace snarled and cursed—one of the few words in Cy’reni that Sabine understood—and stepped toward them. Bryn immediately shoved Sabine behind her, putting herself in the line of fire. The reflex was so depressingly normal for them that Sabine’s heart sank.

“Get over it, Second Son,” Bryn ordered. “We’ve had a lot of clients. Being jealous is a waste of all our time.”

Bryn and Jace stood toe-to-toe, anger snapping and popping like a wood-fire, and Sabine shrank back.

“I don’t want you near him,” Jace said.

“Malcolm just wanted to talk.” Bryn glared at Jace. “He’s scared and he’s in mourning, and for what it’s worth, Sabine and I are the only people he knows aboard this ship. I offered to help him. In a completely vertical manner.”

“I understand. It doesn’t bother me.” Sabine turned her attention to Jace and folded her hands as she waited for him to say the same. Her hands trembled, but she hoped they didn’t notice.

“It bothers me,” he admitted.

“Why?” Sabine asked.

Jace scowled as he ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. It’s like…when de la Cruz first said that you’d spent the night in his quarters, for a moment I wanted to tear him apart. And now, seeing you with him, all I could think of was throwing you over my shoulder, hauling you back here and fucking you senseless.”

“It’s the phase,” Sabine said. “It does that. Takes over your mind, your body, until you’re just a puppet who does its bidding.”