Guardians of Paradise (11 page)

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Authors: Jaine Fenn

BOOK: Guardians of Paradise
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She folded her legs and sat down on the floor; Taro followed suit. Jarek took the couch.
 
‘His mind is not like that of other humans,’ she said. ‘Though the Sidhe have conditioned him to worship them, his contact with them has also given him some ability to resist their powers. I cannot force him to co-operate with us.’
 
‘Damn it,’ said Jarek. ‘How about just charging through? Never mind what he wants, go in there and get what we need to know. He had his chance to tell us freely and he turned it down. The gloves are off now.’
 
Nual shook her head. ‘He has deep, strong shields, unlike anything a human could normally maintain. This was something the Sidhe did to him - similar to what I did to you, with your consent, to hide my whereabouts. I suspect it happened because he was lover to more than one of them, and each sister wanted a piece of his mind that was her own.’
 
‘Shields like that can still be broken,’ said Jarek bitterly. ‘I should know.’
 
‘They can, but it would take skill, and possibly more than one Sidhe acting in unity. I could maybe penetrate them by brute force, but in doing so I would probably break his mind, making him useless to us.’
 
‘My original plan, before I met up with you, was to use drugs on him. Perhaps if we combined drugs with your powers we might get somewhere?’
 
‘Perhaps,’ she said. She didn’t sound convinced.
 
‘Do we have to get into his head at all?’ asked Taro.
 
‘We may never get a chance like this again,’ said Jarek, ‘so, yes, we have to try. Nual, what effect would be best? The med-bay’s got a fair selection of drugs.’
 
‘I am really not sure that would work. Drugging him might make it easier for me to break through, but it would also increase the chances of destroying the very knowledge we are trying to extract.’
 
‘I guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take,’ said Jarek.
 
‘There is another option.’ Nual sounded hesitant. She rubbed her wrist, looking uneasy. ‘He told me . . . This man’s whole existence revolves around his intense love for the Sidhe. He has made it clear that he will allow me freely past his shields if I . . .’ Her voice trailed off.
 
‘Oh no,’ said Jarek. ‘He wants you to sleep with him, doesn’t he? The
shit
.’
 
‘It may be our only choice - if you think the information he has is worth it.’
 
‘No way!’ Taro stared at her, horrified. ‘You can’t - you’re not serious!’
 
Ignoring him, Nual said to Jarek, ‘Is his knowledge really that important?’
 
‘I think it is. But I won’t ask you to—’
 
‘Fuck’s sake, why’re we even having this discussion?’ said Taro, his voice rising.
 
Nual turned to him and he felt the full force of her will, subtle as mist, hard as rock. ‘This is not about you, or about you and me, Taro. This is about the Sidhe and what they have done, and what they are still doing to humanity.’
 
Maybe she was right, but the pain, sharp as a kick in the balls, made him selfish. ‘You said you’d never hurt me and now you’re about to fuck some Sidhe stooge!’
 
‘How many people have you slept with whom you did not love, Taro?’
 
‘That’s different. That was before. I’m with
you
now.’
 
‘And this would be different. It is a . . . necessary evil.’
 
‘What if it’s a trick? Like with Elarn: you get inside his head then it all goes to shit!’
 
‘Such a trap would have sprung when I first read him. He has the resilience of one accustomed to close contact with the Sidhe, but I do not believe his head contains anything that can harm me. If we want the information he is hiding, this is the only way.’
 
Taro wanted to scream at her, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good, so he turned away.
 
Behind him he heard Jarek say, ‘You don’t have to do this.’
 
And Nual replied, ‘No, I don’t. But I will.’
 
CHAPTER TEN
 
Jarek suspected the only reason Taro didn’t storm off was that there was nowhere to storm off to.
 
Nual said, ‘If it is to be done, I will do it straight away.’
 
Jarek got up and followed her. Taro didn’t move.
 
The pilot opened his eyes as they approached and dismissed Jarek with barely a glance. He looked only at Nual. His ravenous adoration made Jarek want to shudder, even as he undid the restraints and stepped back.
 
The pilot sat up a little shakily. To prepare him for his interrogation, Jarek had administered drugs that would temporarily offset the effects of spending several weeks unconscious. That energy was going to be put to a rather different use now. Nual held out a hand. The pilot took it and eased himself off the couch, already looking more alert and comfortable. As she led him to the spare cabin, Jarek turned away. Disgust and guilt washed through him, but he told himself this was Nual’s choice. He hoped he’d been right when he told her that it was a price worth paying.
 
He headed up to the bridge to check on Taro, who was sitting exactly where they’d left him, his head on his knees, hugging himself. When he raised his head, Jarek saw the raw pain on the boy’s face. It stirred his confused emotions: pity tinged his annoyance at Taro’s immaturity.
 
He had no idea what to say, but Taro saved him the trouble. ‘How could she fucking do this to me?’ he spat.
 
Irritation overcame sympathy. ‘She’s not doing it
to you
, Taro,’ said Jarek. ‘She’s doing it because
she
chooses to. It’s
her
choice; you don’t get to make choices for her. That’s not how love works.’
 
‘How can you say that?’ Taro was breathing hard. ‘You have no fucking idea how much I fucking love her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make her happy.
Nothing!
If she asked me, I’d fucking die for her.’
 
For a moment Jarek weighed up the wisdom of antagonising the boy, before deciding that getting him angry might be what he needed; it would at least spare him several hours watching Taro wallow in abject self-pity. ‘Well, obviously you would,’ he said. ‘She’s Sidhe. That’s how they are; they make us love them.’
 
‘No!’
 
Jarek took a step back at Taro’s shout.
 
‘It’s not fucking like that with us!’ He sprang up suddenly, moving with alarming speed as he swept both arms back and the blades appeared from nowhere.
 
Jarek jumped back, unable to stop staring at the long silver spikes, the Angels’ trademarks, alongside the lasers and the flight.
 
Taro drew a sudden breath, as though he’d surprised himself, and brought his arms forward, staring at his hands. As the blades retracted he curled his fingers, pressing his nails into his palms to make tight fists. He sank to his knees, crying and swearing under his breath, ‘
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
’
 
Afterwards, Jarek analysed all the possible reasons for what he did next: a reaction to thinking he was about to get his throat ripped out, then finding he wasn’t; Taro’s odd combination of world-weariness and vulnerability; his intriguing looks, and finally a sudden and totally unexpected flash of lust that came out of the blue but was most likely, he later realised, the mental backwash from the cabin below.
 
Now he acted without thinking, walking up to the boy and lifting his head in his hands - on his knees, the top of Taro’s head came up to his chin - then bending down to kiss him hard on the lips.
 
He felt Taro tense and he pulled back as his mind caught up with what his body had just done.
 
Taro focused on him, swallowed hard, then leaned up and returned the kiss with bruising force. He began to float to his feet, one arm creeping round to grasp Jarek’s arse, the other hooking around his neck.
 
While Taro’s tongue insinuated itself into his mouth Jarek tried to remember the last time he’d had sex - far too long ago. He’d just spent several months on a world where, even if he hadn’t had other things on his mind, his sexuality could’ve got him into a lot of trouble. And Taro was a fine-looking creature, slender, youthful, sensuous . . . and suddenly amazingly self-assured.
 
As Taro broke from the kiss he was moulding his body to Jarek’s—
 
This was wrong
: Taro was barely an adult, and he was deeply messed up. He was only coming on to Jarek because of what Nual was doing; to respond would be taking advantage . . .
 
So why did Jarek feel like he was the one being seduced?
 
‘What’s the matter?’ breathed Taro into his ear. ‘Never fucked a whore before?’ He moved his hand from Jarek’s arse, trailing it round the side of his leg, ‘Or didn’t you know’ - his hand came to rest on Jarek’s groin, which appeared to be the only part of his body that was functioning normally - ‘that’s what I am?’
 
Jarek had occasionally paid for sex, in theocracies - like Khathryn, his homeworld - where homosexuality was illegal and the only safe alternative to celibacy was to use prostitutes. But he didn’t much care for it, and he’d never paid to screw someone he actually knew. If he’d been thinking straight he’d have pushed the boy away . . . but then Taro started to stroke him with just the right mixture of firmness and tenderness, and he began having trouble thinking at all.
 
Taro stopped, hand splayed across Jarek’s crotch. ‘You do want me,’ he breathed, ‘don’t you?’
 
‘God yes, I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,’ said Jarek, with some difficulty. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a vague justification was beginning to take shape: Taro needed this, to make him feel he was worth something in the terms he was used to - and that meant sex.
 
‘So what’s the problem?’ Taro started to press: gently, firmly, expertly.
 
Before he lost the power of speech completely, Jarek murmured, ‘No problem. Carry on.’ He only hoped he had enough sense left to get himself out of his clothes without help.
 
 
How could humans have only one word for love?
Because she did love Taro, she was sure of it. If she didn’t, she would never put up with him, his sulks and tantrums. Yet here she was,
making love
with someone she did not know at all - not even his name. The pilot had defined himself entirely by the role he had held, and though he used names when dealing with humans, they weren’t real; his birth name was buried too deep for her to unearth.
 
Only two humans had seen her naked before: Jarek, when he first found her, and Elarn. And though Elarn had touched her, their lovemaking had been cut short when she realised what Nual was. Nual’s inexperience was making her a little nervous, and the pilot picked up on that. She let him take the lead, projecting an air of passivity that both baffled and excited him. He had anticipated dominance from her and this unexpected chance to display his skills flattered his ego.
 
Though she felt no threat from this man, she felt no attraction to him either. But she knew that the ability to give and receive pleasure existed independently of the physical actions of sex, so she let him fondle, lick and nibble, and tried to tie the sensations he caused with those she knew as pleasure. She began to touch him in return, edging into the surface of this mind in order to read how her efforts affected him, assimilating the knowledge of what he liked, then using it. Sometimes she misjudged him, because his ideas of pleasure were complex, tied up with concepts of power, pain and addiction.
 

 
His voice in her head made her freeze. After a moment she responded,

 
That shut him up. He concentrated on showing her how good at this he was. She let him, and as she became accustomed to this strange new language of flesh and fluid, she started to take enjoyment as her right.
 
After a while his need began to eclipse everything else in his head. She let him guide himself into her. It hurt. She dulled the pain at once, but for a moment it drove out any idea that this was an act of pleasure. He ground into her, grunting like a beast, and she tried to latch onto the sensation, either to enjoy it or to use it, but he was lost to her, his mind a whirl of formless desire. He came quickly, with an undignified bellow. She would have liked to get deeper into his head while his guard was down, but the release was too sudden, too unexpected.

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