Beyond the Rain Page 6

  “I’m not in the mood to play, Soren. Why would I say they were if they weren’t?” She thrust her hands on her hips and tried to glare at him without looking him in the eye. It didn’t work. Instead she focused on his mouth. She shivered as she remembered how it felt pressed against the back of her neck.

  He rubbed his jaw as a smile spread over his face.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  “Green is happy.” He stooped to pick up Vicca’s rock.

  “What?!” Cyani slammed the palm of her hand against the wall. Her face flushed with heat. “Now I am going to break your nose.”

  “I’m sorry you’re angry, but I’m not sorry about what I did, so get over it.” His jaw set and he rose to his full imposing height. She tilted her chin up just slightly in defiance.

  “We are stuck in a pit on a rock in the deepest cesspool of space. What in the name of Fima the Merciless are you so happy about?”

  He dropped his attention down to her fox. Vicca danced in a circle on her hind legs, and he flicked the rock up the tunnel. She raced after it, her back legs slipping on the stone.

  “Let me think,” he began, his tone entirely too sarcastic for her liking. “I’m able to speak my native language for the first time in longer than I can remember. I spent the night warm and comfortable with a beautiful and courageous woman instead of blind and shackled to a wall. I feel strong. And Vicca taught me this amusing little game.” His smile widened. “It was a very good night.”

  For the first time, Cyani noticed he was not speaking Garu. “Com, assess ability to translate for language Byra.”

  Language: Byra. Ability to translate: 78 percent.

  “How is that possible?” she whispered. “It should take months to program that level of proficiency.”

  “The com is a very fast learner.” Soren shrugged as Vicca trotted back into the room with the rock.

  “I don’t believe it.” She stood in shock. There was no conceivable way for the com to reach that level so quickly. Did it already know Byra? But then why couldn’t she access it earlier?

  “If I never hear or speak that filthy language again, I will die a happy man.” He flicked the rock up the passage again.

  “Soren . . .” Cyani rubbed the bridge of her nose between her eyes.

  “What?” he asked, turning his attention fully to her.

  “Do you have any idea how angry I am?”

  “Rot, Cyani, listen to yourself,” he admonished. “I helped you. I did nothing but help you. Your problem is the only creature you trust is Vicca.” He scooped up Vicca and held the fox out to her. “Be angry all you want. I’m sure you’ll never forgive me.” Sarcasm dripped from his words as he thrust Vicca into her arms.

  Cyani stood, shocked, as Vicca pressed her silky head under her chin and purred. Realizing she was gaping, she snapped her jaw shut. No, he couldn’t be right. That wasn’t it. He was wrong. She wasn’t that isolated, that afraid.

  “That isn’t it at all,” she argued, gently dropping Vicca to the floor.

  “No? Enlighten me.” Soren crossed his arms, seeming so strong and sure of himself.

  What was bothering her, really? She had slept deeply using him as an enormous male pillow. Was it the contact with him that bothered her? No, yes . . . No! She didn’t want to think about her attraction to him. She needed to deny it, needed to keep her distance. Unwilling to discuss the fact that he made her feel like a woman, she turned the argument back to the beginning.

  “I told you I didn’t want you to hypnotize me and you did it anyway.”

  “I see.” He still didn’t seem concerned.

  “Do you see? Do you really, Soren?”

  “I see more than you think I do. You’re upset that I disobeyed orders.” He tilted his head and shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not one of your soldiers, Cyani.”

  “I’m trying to save our lives . . .”

  “Which is why I’m trying to look out for your health, but you won’t eat, and you wouldn’t sleep. This is not a training exercise. You do not need to prove to me how strong you are.” His voice rose, and her heart pounded loud in her ears. “I know how strong you are.”

  Cyani froze. His words struck her as deeply as a shock blast to her heart. He thought she was strong? If only he knew how terrified she really felt. She wasn’t strong at all. No, any moment she would give in to her dark thoughts and the pressure of their situation would crush her.

  “You betrayed my trust,” she whispered, once again avoiding thoughts best left in the dark.

  He took a step toward her. “I didn’t realize you gave it to me,” he murmured. His scent, it reminded her of sunlight on leaves and the scent of pike flowers on the wind. It enveloped her as she dropped her gaze to his feet and tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. She didn’t want him to come any closer. The slightly spicy fragrance of his skin made her feel dizzy and hot. She reminded herself it was only the chemicals, nothing more. She needed to ignore it.

  “Don’t touch me,” she warned.

  “Is that an order, Captain?” His whispered voice floated over her. She closed her eyes, trying to fight the burning she felt deep inside her body. She could hear the whip cracking, the Grand Sister’s hard voice, the agonizing silence of the other Elite every time she entered a room. She was so alone. His fingertips brushed over the tingling skin of her cheek.

  She took a step back, turning from him. He pushed forward in step. They continued the dance until her back pressed against the cold wall.

  “Look at me,” he demanded in a husky whisper.

  She refused, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground.

  “Blight and rot, Cyani, look at me.” He reached behind her ear, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull. He cradled her face in his warm and gentle palm, and slowly tilted her face up. She wanted to grab his hand and twist his fingers, but something in her resisted. She let the forbidden touch linger as she opened her eyes, daring him to hypnotize her again.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, “but you don’t listen to me.”

  He leaned forward. His face was so close to hers she could feel the prickling tingle of anticipation in her lips.

  “If you don’t listen to me, I can’t help us,” he continued. He lifted his chin slightly, still not breaching the agonizing gap between them. His eyes glowed with violet fire. “I’ve been helpless far too long. I need to be a part of this.”

  Burning with heat, with want, she battled the urge to lean into him, to touch him. Her thoughts turned into a jumble of noise in her head, a constant humming underlined by the frantic beat of her heart. He bunched his hand in her hair beneath the knot, the pressure of the hold firm and commanding. She was tired of fighting. And tired of feeling so isolated.

  His fingers loosened their grip, and he slowly pulled away from her. She opened her eyes and fell forward, taking a step to balance herself as she watched his retreat. Confused and irritated, she pressed her lips to the back of her hand to try to stop them from tingling. What was he trying to do to her?

  Soren looked down at the floor then turned his attention to Vicca as he crossed the room. She trotted after him, with her rock in her mouth. He stooped to pick up the shirt of his shadowsuit.

  Cyani fell against the wall, shaking. The sudden chill of the air felt like ice after the warmth of his body.

  What was she doing? Had she completely lost her mind? Suddenly relief that he had not kissed her rushed through her. She did not need this. She didn’t need to battle his addictive nature. And she was still mad at him! Wasn’t she?

  “Soren, how can I trust you if you can control my mind?” She watched as he pulled the shirt of the shadowsuit over his head. The slightly shimmering black material stretched taut over the muscles in his chest and arms. She couldn’t help staring as each of the defined muscles of his abdomen disappeared under the black fabric. Covering up his chest was a shame. Cyani rolled her eyes. It was official. She had gone insane.r />
  She waited for a response, but he didn’t seem anxious to give her one. Instead, he reached up and ran his fingers through the streaks of reds, browns, gold, and black in his hair then tied it back in a ponytail with a shredded strip of fabric.

  “I can’t control your mind,” he finally admitted, pulling on the cuffs of his shirt. The uniform made him look like a warrior, not a slave. She felt a tremor of arousal shiver through her limbs.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Hypnosis is a strong word for what I can do,” he explained. “I can only do three things with my eyes. I can communicate what I feel, whether I want to or not; I can calm someone who is frightened or agitated, sometimes holding them in a thrall; or I can send a person to sleep. That’s it. I can’t make you do what you don’t want to do, unless you don’t want to sleep.

  Only then do I hold any power over you.” He took a step closer and looked her in the eye. “I can’t control you, Cyani.” He reached out to her, but let his hand hover near her shoulder before letting it fall to his side. “I don’t want to.”

  Cyani didn’t know what to say. Her heart pounded in her chest as a tremble raced down her arms. Of all the things he could possibly say to her, that was the one capable of disarming her. Her body was one thing. He was emitting hallucinogenic pheromones. She couldn’t control her body’s attraction to him, but she thought she could control her mind. Why did he have to say something like that? Something that resonated so deeply with her most private thoughts. She was always under someone’s control, always under her own. Damn him.

  “Now, how are we going to steal an enemy ship?” he asked, wrenching her from her reckless thoughts.

  “Do we have to talk about that now?” she protested. She needed to get away from him, to check the sensors, do something. Her moment of weakness blossomed into sharp thorns of irritation. It was the only way she could defend herself.

  “Fine, have you eaten?” he asked.

  “Soren!” she snapped. “You are being . . .”

  “I know what I’m being,” he admitted, reaching into the bag and tossing a ration to her.

  She snatched the ERB out of the air with a strike of her hand. “We have to conserve our food. We don’t know how long we’ll be here. I’m not that hungry.” Her stomach chose that moment to betray her with a growl. One of Soren’s dark brows arched.

  “You can’t hypnotize me and make me eat,” she challenged.

  “No,” he answered, “but I can refuse to eat until you do.”

  “Fine.” With an angry rip, she opened the ration and took a bite out of it. “Are you happy now?” she asked with her mouth full. Damn his green eyes, of course he was happy.

  She sat on the floor and tore a chunk of the ration off and tossed it to Vicca. She batted it around the room like a toy. Soren laughed and sat down next to her, peeling open a ration of his own.

  “Our escape,” he continued.

  Cyani sighed and rubbed her forehead. She had had rashes less irksome. “Before you knocked me out, I scouted the area thoroughly,” she began. “There are two working flight strips, but both are very heavily fortified. We can’t penetrate them.”

  “How many men?” Soren asked.

  “At least four hundred.” She calmed down as they talked logistics. In that brief moment, he really reminded her of a soldier.

  “You mean you can’t take out four hundred men?” he teased.

  She found herself smiling before she could stop it. She hadn’t been free to smile since she was a child. “I’d have to count on you for at least a hundred.”

  “I don’t think I can take out one hundred armed guards,” he admitted, “though I would certainly enjoy trying. I bet you could handle the remaining three hundred, though.”

  Cyani shook her head in disbelief. His teasing reminded her of her brother. Cyn had an inappropriate sense of humor as well. She missed her twin so much. Every time she thought about him, she felt a sharp stab of grief. She just hoped he was safe.

  “The transports aren’t as heavily guarded,” she mentioned.

  “But we’ll never be able to outrun a stingship in one. The only hope for stealing a ship lies beyond the warehouses.” She took another bite. Hopefully when he realized they wouldn’t be able to steal a ship, he would stop bothering her about an escape plan.

  “What’s back there?” he asked.

  “Two broken stingships and a badly damaged flight strip,” she answered. “I doubt either ship is capable of flight, or the Garulen would have shown more interest in them. They might not be able to get through the rubble from the bombed warehouses.”

  “Can Vicca find a way through?” He stroked Vicca’s arching back as she sent the chunk of ration skittering across the floor with a swipe of her paw.

  “You aren’t going to let this drop until we check it out, are you?” she accused.

  “I have to get off this asteroid, Cyani,” he confessed.

  “Why?” She needed answers, and she needed them now.

  Soren rose and began to pace along the far wall. Vicca followed relentlessly at his heels. “The fever I had, my dizziness, the fainting, it’s going to get much worse.”

  “What is going on, Soren?” His pacing made her nervous. He reminded her of a Xalen tiger again.

  He looked like he wanted to answer but didn’t.

  “Out with it,” she demanded.

  “I am not in withdrawals from the drugs. I’m in withdrawals from myself,” he admitted without looking at her.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My body needs a certain hormone in my bloodstream for my nervous system to work properly. The drugs the Garulen injected in me forced me to produce that hormone—it’s what they used to make their narcotics. On my planet, we produce the hormone when we have physical contact with our spouse. The hormone makes us fertile, but it’s such an important part of our systems, my body can’t work right without it.”

  “So on your planet, you need to remain in the presence of your mate to stay healthy?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Soren answered. “But the Garulen corrupted my system. They poisoned me with the stimulants. Now without them, my body isn’t producing the hormones I need.”

  “So you need to return to your planet and find a mate. Otherwise, you’ll continue to be ill,” she concluded. She finally understood his desperation to escape. She needed to wait for her men, but she owed Soren her life. If he was unconscious with fever, she wouldn’t be able to get him to whatever location her team chose as the rendezvous, and returning here for him would put her men in danger. Damn it. She had no choice. They were in this together.

  “I can’t stay here, or I’ll be useless.” His eyes darkened once again to black.

  “If you reach your home, what then? What do you have to do to find a mate?” she asked.

  “She has to choose to stay with me in my lifegarden.”

  “Lifegarden?” She had never heard the term before.

  “My home,” he grumbled.

  “That’s it?” With his species’ dependency on their mates, she assumed there would be a little more pomp and circumstance involved.

  “We’re a simple people.”

  She sighed. “We have to get out of here.” Cyani crossed the room to stand in front of him. He stopped his pacing and watched her with a resigned expression on his rough face. If he needed to escape to stay healthy, then they had to try. He’d be no good to her while ill. “Get your boots on. We have work to do.”

  5

  THREE DAYS. THREE DAYS OF HIDING AND SEARCHING, AND NOTHING TO SHOW for it. They were running out of time.

  Cyani climbed over the debris of the collapsed warehouse, taking care not to disturb anything. Thin wisps of smoke snaked up from the rubble from the K-bomb blast that had destroyed the structure. They’d been trying to find a path through the warehouses with no luck. Their food was running out, their clean water was already gone, and Soren’s symptoms seemed to be getting wors
e. The fevers burned hotter and lasted longer each night.

  The patrols in the ruins had also increased as the Garulen contained the main fires, and now all efforts had turned to salvaging what they could.

  They had to escape.

  Cyani felt a sharp pang of regret. Part of her would miss this place. She mentally kicked herself for even thinking that thought, but when she thought about her future, all she could see were long years of silence and isolation. The past three days, while frightening and frustrating, had been fun.

  For the last fourteen years of her life, she had met with only scorn. She had no friends, no one to talk to but Vicca. She hated the other Elite, but she had no choice. Putting up with their dung was the only way to stay alive and save Cyn.

  Even if she succeeded in becoming one of the Elite and the Grand Sister kept her promise to raise her brother out of the deadly slums to the security of the high cities, she’d never see him again.

  “Are you coming?” Soren called back to her. He looked concerned as he watched her from his perch on a broken wall.

  Soren made her feel real. He was witty, smart, and mentally strong. He liked to talk, but he also liked to listen to her. No matter how bleak things looked, he never gave up, and he never complained. In the Halls of Honor she often felt like she was a walking statue. She existed, but nothing more. Now she felt alive.

  In three days, she had talked more than she had in a decade, mostly making plans or sharing observations. Often they talked about Vicca. While Soren remained as elusive and occasionally irksome as the day she freed him, she found herself eager to hear the sound of his voice. She could smile, even laugh without fearing a reprimand. The strange freedom didn’t sit well with her, and she tried to hold back in spite of Soren’s goading.

  If she made it out alive, things would have to change, or she would become addicted to these things that were forbidden to her. Maybe she already was.

  “Cyani, are you okay?” He hopped off the wall and walked back to her.

  “I’m fine. Just thinking. Let’s go.” She forced herself to focus and followed him into the crumbling building.