No Mercy (17 page)

“That won't be necessary.”

What was he supposed to do now? He held Gia's gaze for a long moment before brushing a light kiss over her lips. “Go with him now. I'll meet you for dinner in our rooms in one hour.”

She nodded and scrambled from the water, reaching for her clothes.

Zan deliberately turned his back on the two people, even as his heart banged frantically against his rib cage.

It was going to be a long hour.

G
ia had to fight back the tears at the sight of her stinger. The small ship had held together remarkably well considering it had crash-landed through a frozen lake. It might not ever be spaceworthy again, but just seeing it gave her a sense of self she badly needed.

Xander hadn't said a word to her since they left Zan, but every time she looked his way he was staring at her. His consideration was creepy as hell and her skin crawled when she imagined this man, who looked so much like her lover, watching the intimate things Zan had done to her. Somehow being in his presence, feeling his fixation and sharing the same space, made the danger so much more real.

Considering how women were treated on this backwater planet she didn't dare speak first, in case it broke some social mores. But now that they stood outside the ship, with her long-range transmitter within reach, her impatience grew unbearable. He'd probably want to disembowel her anyway, so what the hell.

“Would you like to see inside?”

Xander gestured with his hand, his body eerily still. Gia fought a shiver. He gave her the impression of a snake coiled and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The only question was, would he sink his fangs into her or simply swallow her whole?

When she and Zan had ejected from the stinger, the safety shield had been erected around the hull. Similar to her personal health guard, the shield responded only to the pilot's handprint. Supposedly the designers had installed that safety precaution to keep space pirates and other unsavory characters from cutting off lone stinger pilots from their squadrons, killing the pilot and stealing the technology. The major flaw in the plan was that any mercenary worth his stardust knew about the design and could easily cut off her hand to lower the shield.

Though it took every ounce of her mettle, Gia turned away from Xander and pressed her palm against the invisible barrier. The low hum dropped away and the hull split open like a hatching egg.

“Doesn't seem too structurally sound,” Xander observed.

Her smart-ass reply died on her lips as she met his ice-cold stare. He'd crept closer when her back was turned. She'd been wrong—he wasn't just one snake, he was hundreds of them, slithering through greasy, black oil, swarming closer and closer, scales glittering, forked tongues flicking, whispering her name. Gia . . . Gia . . .

“Did you enjoy my gift?” His voice was robust, thick like spilled tar, and she got stuck in his words.

“Gift?” She couldn't swallow, the fear churned inside her and clogged her throat. She was such an idiot. Zan had tried to warn her not to be alone with his father, but she arrogantly believed she could handle herself.

“The woman, I sent you. Shalla.”

She wanted to be brave, to say something snotty about how people weren't commerce to trade, but provoking him seemed like a stupid idea. He was the reason all those people in the market suffered, the reason Zan's wife had died, that her space pirate drowned in nightmares every time he closed his eyes and was forced to scrounge in order to survive.

Gia wanted to lash out at him but couldn't, and her helplessness pissed her off.

He slithered closer still, invading her personal space. “I surely did, right after you were done. I tasted you on her lips the same way Zan did. You are delicious, especially mixed with her blood.”

“You killed her?” It was a stupid thing to say. Of course he had murdered Shalla. She hadn't been a person to him, just a plaything he had broken. She couldn't think, her heart beating too fast, blood pounding through her at light speed, making her dizzy.

Those cruel lips curved up, more of a threat than a smile. “I had no choice. She wasn't equipped with your marvelous . . .” One finger trailed along her arm to her elbow and stopped right above her health guard implant. “Technology.”

She backed up, stumbling up the gangplank. “But Zan didn't—that is, he was only with me. You could have left her alone.”

He stalked her, mirroring her every step, keeping close to her. One dark eyebrow arched up, the move so similar to Zan's but twisted, bastardized for evil intent. “Now, why would I do that?”

Gia's back hit the bulkhead at the same time as realization struck her. She couldn't talk to this man, couldn't reason or plead with him. He had no compassion. The magical memory spooge was just an excuse for him, a reason for him to do what he loved to do most . . . kill. The only reason she was still alive was because he hadn't figured out the best way to hurt her yet.

“Sire,” a man called from the bottom of the gangplank.

Xander moved back to speak with him, leaving Gia alone. She didn't hesitate, just dove for the long-range transmission console and typed furiously.

She knew Zan's ship frequency by heart, had memorized it when her stinger squadron had been assigned to hunt his ship down. Tapping it in, she followed with a quick message:

She punched in her pilot's code to send, and the panel went dark. No!

Something gripped her hair, yanked her back. Another arm, like a vice, pressed into her rib cage, knocking the air from her lungs. “What are you doing?” Xander's tone remained level yet still filled with menace.

“Checking energy levels,” she whimpered, sure he was going to rip her hair from her head. Or fling her into the bulkhead.

He spun her around to face him. “What did you find?”

“Almost completely drained.”

He let her go, stepped back, probably to give her a false sense of security before he struck. “More's the pity. I'd hoped to salvage it, but between the stress fractures on the hull and the lack of power source, I think it would be wasted effort. I'm having the ship dissembled and brought to my labs so your technology can be studied. After the ranking, you will make yourself available to my research team if they have any questions.”

“Of . . . of course.” Her beautiful ship, left in pieces on some scientist's table. Tears threatened again, but she wasn't sure if it was from the sense of loss or the fear that after he was done with her ship, Xander would do the same thing to her.

“Come now, my son will be waiting for you. He has such lusty appetites and not a shred of patience. Guard. Escort the young woman back to Zan's chambers.”

The guard snapped off a crisp salute and dragged her away.

Gia stared at her feet as the man marched her back to Zan's room. Her head throbbed and defeat hung around her like a lead cloak, making her smaller and smaller. How could she look Zan in the eye and tell him she'd failed? That he'd have to go through with the ranking.

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, nails digging into the fleshy part of her palms, the bites of pain all that kept her together, kept her moving. If she stopped it'd be over.

“There you are. Food's already here.” Zan had been sitting on the bed, studying some sort of handheld device. His golden gaze flew to hers and then focused on the guard. “That will be all.”

The man bowed and shut the door behind him. Gia didn't stop, just walked directly into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Stripping off her robe she curled into a ball in the corner of the stall and let her tears fall.

“Gia?” Strong arms wrapped around her and Zan pulled her away from the cool tile, back up against his chest. He'd stripped off his clothes “You're scaring the shit out of me. What happened?”

“The console died. The ship, he's going to pull it apart and the message might still be in there. I risked our lives for nothing.. . .” A hitching sob stole her voice.

Zan held her, and she appreciated that he didn't offer ridiculous platitudes. They'd gambled and lost.

And come the morning they were both completely fucked.

 

Xander studied his handheld, specifically the camera focused on his son's room. He watched Zan rise from the bed as the little human pilot whisked by without a sound. To the untrained eye it looked as though Zan was following his woman into the bathroom for a piece of ass.

Punching in the command for his holosuite he moved faster, irritated that he might have to miss something important. His boot heels clicked smartly against the floor, and servants scurried for safety in his wake. Survival instincts, not that they'd fare any better once his main goal was achieved.

His palms were actually damp, as though in anticipation. Xander couldn't recall the last time he'd looked forward to something so much. Millennia of life experience took its toll, and what had once been invigorating now seemed stale. He'd spent a fortune amassing top-of-the-line technology yet had little to do with it. Expanding his domain took time and he'd traveled to all the worlds in easy reach of Hosta via the traditional space lanes multiple times. Being gone too long put his territory at risk for invasion or, worse, insurrection. The people wouldn't fear an absent overlord for long.

Stuck between two warring evils, pride in what he'd achieved and lust for new experiences, Xander had festered for over a century. His first attempt to expand his influence had been his progeny, but he knew almost immediately that the boy was flawed. Zan had always been weak, a scrawny child with a soft heart. He'd intended Zan to hold his place here in the Hosta System while he got his fill of conquering new worlds. But the only thing young Zan had been interested in holding was a woman.

A smile tugged at Xander's lips as he recalled bringing his son to the Infinity Pool. By that time, Zan had learned enough that he could mimic the responses he thought others expected of him. What he didn't know was that his sire had long since developed other abilities. Xander could sense fear, aggression, and had almost a precognitive ability to know when someone conspired against him. He'd made Zan immortal as a punishment, not a reward. To take away the crutch of emotional connection through sex.

Yet that one judgment call had started off a chain of events that even he couldn't have foreseen. Instead of falling into line after the death of his wife, Zan had struck back, stealing Xander's most prized possession, the hybrid ship. He ground his molars as he thought of how close he'd been to having it all, a way to travel the universe, conquering where and when he saw fit, and the ability to sleep in his own bed every night. Wormhole travel was the next best thing to instantaneous transport, or the ability to be in two places at once.

Waving the guards aside he entered his room, dropping the handheld on his desk, and strode for the suite. Inside the woman was huddled in a ball, shaking. Zan had wrapped his body around her, as though to physically cocoon her from him. Xander sneered. Still weak. Even if Zan survived the ranking, Xander had grown tired of the game.

Zan had found a loophole to his edict. This woman with her health guard could be his crutch and Xander couldn't wait to kick her out from under his traitor progeny and use her for his own.

“Talk to me,” Zan murmured now. “Tell me what happened. Did he hurt you?”

“No.” The world held a world of frustration and misery. Xander crouched down, recalling the pungent scent of her fear. How delicious. “I failed, I couldn't send the message. I'm sorry. I thought it would work, but the ship was too badly damaged, the console just died.” Wiping away tears she cast Zan a baleful look. “No one knows we're here.”

Xander ran a fingernail down her holographic cheek. “Oh, but I do.”

Zan didn't rage or pace; he continued to comfort his distraught companion, murmuring nonsense and reassurances that had no basis in reality. He couldn't assure Gia that it would all work out. Xander knew his son, knew how he operated. Zan's lie about losing the ship in a card game had been so thickly coated in falsehood he could barely pretend to swallow it.

Out in the other room his handheld trilled. Since these two weren't doing anything he tapped in the record function and left to answer the call. “Yes?”

The man on the screen saluted crisply. “Long-range transmission has been relayed, my liege.”

Xander steepled his fingers together. “Excellent. Deploy my personal armada in a gridlike pattern throughout the system. I want every parsec scanned. And notify me the second anything changes.”

“What are we looking for?”

Xander looked over to the suite, imagining the lovers entwined for what they thought to be the last time.
Enjoy her while you can, son.

“A rescue and the chance to reclaim what's mine.”

Z
an had thought listening to Gia's soft sobs was torture, but that was nothing compared to the utter stillness that settled around her. Slowly, he reached up and shut the water off. With her knees drawn up to her chest and blond head resting against the smooth wall, she looked like a lost child.

What could he do to fix this? How could he reignite her fire? She'd been the one who kept him moving, fighting for survival long after he'd wanted to give up. But now she sat, silent, defeated. Rage swept through him at the thought that his father might have raped her, but experience had shown him that Xander would have stretched out her torment for much longer than the hour she'd been gone. No, it was more likely that his father had toyed with her, fed her fear to get her into this state.

He reaching for a towel, then crouched next to her and patted her clammy flesh dry. “What did he say to you?”

“He killed Shalla,” she whispered, still staring off into the ether.

Rubbing beads of water from her hair he murmured. “I'm not surprised.”

Gia's eyebrows drew down. “You knew he would kill her?”

Zan chose his response carefully, hoping to goad her into a fight. An angry Gia he could deal with. “Her fate was sealed the instant you touched her.”

“So it's my fault she's dead?” The lack of fire in her words worried him. Instead of coming up swinging after his verbal prod, she just sat.

He lowered the towel, gripped her chin, and forced her to face him. “No. You can't own responsibility for his actions any more than I can. Her blood is on Xander's hands, hers and millions more like her. Do you know why he's held power in this sector for almost millennia? Because his timing is unpredictable, though his actions rarely are. He likes chaos but doesn't spread it around at random. He waits, deciding when and where to strike to quench his thirst for blood and maximize a demonstration. Her death served his purpose, Gia, because it made you fear him. The next time you won't hear about a lover's death, he'll want to watch you witness it firsthand. Or perhaps he'll even give you a choice—your life or that of your loved one. Whichever way he strikes, it will be to his benefit, to feed his pleasure.”

Gia's lips parted. “I feel like such an idiot, telling her she shouldn't feel obligated to do as she was told. She never really had a choice, any more than a rat in a maze does.”

Zan had heard of both those things but didn't understand her analogy. “A rat in a maze?”

“It's something scientists back on Earth did. Put a rat in the beginning of a maze and food on the other side. The rat has to navigate the maze to get the cheese, make decisions to find its way to the reward at the end.”

That sounded exactly like what Xander did to his people. “No, Shalla had a choice, but whatever decision she made, things would have ended the same way, with her death.”

“Someone has to stop him.” Her gaze was very far away.

“Many have tried. But Xander is too powerful, holding all the embargos to technology, forcing the people to live in poverty, when he could easily provide a replicator for every household. It's his way of maintaining absolute control, rewarding those who prove themselves loyal to him and denying those who would cause trouble. A revolution won't work when the people barely have the strength to survive the night.”

“And for those that do, there's the ranking to contend with.”

Zan nodded as he dried himself off. “Yes. Those in favor have a chance to better their position, all for his amusement.”

“Puppets, whose strings are easily cut.” Taking the towel from his hand, she crawled behind him to dry his back. “What happens tomorrow, during the ranking?”

Zan closed his eyes. “I'm going to kill any who challenge me outright. The longer I fight each one, the more my strength will fade and the greater the odds that I'll lose.”

Her hands stilled. “Are you allowed a weapon?”

Slowly he shook his head. “Not even clothing. Hand-to-hand combat only.” Turning to face her, he took the towel from her shaking hands. “I vow I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

Straight, white teeth worried her lower lip. Reaching forward he smoothed the tender flesh with his thumb. “I've already won a ranking to maintain my position, and six decades of experience have taught me even more. Have a little faith in me, Gia.”

She stepped back, shook her head. “I do. It isn't that.”

“Then what worries you?” A thought occurred to him. Earth, on the whole, was a nonviolent planet, its citizens soft, living lives of comfort. Perhaps she was disgusted by the thought of him being so ready to kill. “If I let the challengers live, he'd kill them anyhow, to protect the Infinity Pool, whether I fuck them or not.”

“I know.” Her silent resignation bugged the hell out of him.

“What do you want me to do then, Gia? You know my choices. If you weren't here, I'd accept whatever fate had in store, be it losing my position or being killed by my father.”

“I'm sorry.” Without a word she turned and walked into the bedroom.

Zan muttered a string of curses in every language he knew. Damn her, why did she keep looking at him that way? He hadn't lied to her. She was the first person he'd ever been totally honest with. She knew the score, knew what he had to do, so why was she looking at him like he owed her something? Like he'd disappointed her somehow.

Flinging the towel aside he paced the bathroom, searching for a solution to his problems, something he hadn't considered yet. Dying wasn't an option, because without his protection Xander would claim Gia for his own. Same for him losing his position as second. His father wouldn't let him live if he lost to a mortal man.

That thought drew him up short. He'd been worried that his father would challenge him outright because while Zan had decades of fighting experience to draw on, Xander had centuries. Immortal didn't mean invincible, though, and just because he didn't age, he could still die given the right set of circumstances.

And if Xander was in the ring with him, Gia might have a better chance to escape.

He wanted to drag her back into the bathroom, to tell her what he intended so she was prepared to run if given the chance. Two things stopped him. Knowing Gia, she'd argue with him when he was none too sure it was the right choice to make. Second, he feared she might try to talk him out of it, that he'd let her. Gia could make him reconsider anything if she set her mind to it.

Death was death, no matter whose hands were around his throat though. And if his time was up, he'd do everything in his power to take Xander out with him.

 

Zan didn't say anything when he climbed into bed beside her. She'd purposely ignored the food tray and turned to face the wall. How could she explain to him what she barely understood herself? Xander had unsettled her and news of Shalla's death upset her, but neither plagued her half much as the fact that she'd let Zan down.

The idea that his opinion mattered so much shook her to her core. She still didn't trust him, not completely. He had too many facets for her to fully understand him. As part of a stinger squadron, Gia knew what it was like to work closely with other members of a team. Once or twice, she'd mixed business with pleasure and taken a copilot as a lover for a short time. But with Zan she craved more. More of his touches, more searing kisses, more of his laughter, and definitely more of those sexy, smoldering looks that set her ablaze.

And like any true addict, she'd convinced herself that what she felt for him—her drug of choice—was want, not this all-consuming need to hold him close, breathe him in, let him make all of her problems disappear.

Zan touched her shoulder, his hand searing her through the sheet. “Aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten anything since the market.”

She shook her head, denying herself the pleasure of looking at him, turning to him for badly needed comfort. “Just tired.”

“I'll let you sleep then.” Dousing the light, he settled in beside her.

Shit. Gia tried to focus on her breathing, taking slow, even pulls of air, forcing her body to relax. The quiet and darkness reminded her of space, of flying, the endless missions when she spent weeks alone in the void. Space could be so lonely with only herself as company.

“Gia?” That one word vocalized his need, a reflection of her own. He didn't say anything more, but she could feel his energy, franticly building, his thoughts spinning.

She felt like a frigid bitch, shutting him down when he was willing to kill or even die to protect her. Though she didn't have much to give him, he asked only for the comfort of her body. Denying herself out of fear was one thing, but punishing Zan? She couldn't be that selfish.

Turning over, she reached for him. “Take whatever you need.”

They moved together in unison, and she lost herself, tangled up in his embrace, two lonely souls colliding in the dark. His lips seared hers, his skin hot to the touch. Calloused hands worked their magic, gliding over her skin in sweeping caresses. How did he always know exactly how she needed to be touched?

With her eyes useless in the black of night, her other senses came alive as never before. His spicy masculine scent so foreign and familiar at the same time filled the few empty spaces where their bodies didn't connect. He'd unbraided his hair and she ran her fingers between the silky strands, careful not to pull. The rasp of his whiskers against the tender flesh of her breasts, the hard mass of his thigh between her splayed legs as he rubbed against her hungry sex, he overwhelmed her until she forgot about her fear, the task before them, and lost herself in the now.

“Don't wait,” she breathed as his fingers parted her folds, finding her slick and ready. “Please, Zan, I need you inside me.”

He didn't say a word as he rose up and aligned his cock with her opening. With a surge of his hips he seated himself to the hilt, his hard shaft filling her even as his fingers threaded through hers and his lips descended again.

Gia lost track of everything as he fucked her in a steady rhythm. Sweat slicked his skin and she licked it, savoring his salty passion. His weight pinned her to the mattress, kept her captive, and she loved it, the feeling of being pinned beneath him, for she knew he wouldn't abuse her helpless state. So many things about Zan scared her to death, but never that he would physically force himself on her. He didn't have to. She wanted him endlessly.

His tongue swept through her mouth, delving and demanding her secrets. The hair on his chest abraded her nipples until they were stiff, aching peaks, and his pubic bone rubbed over her clit with every surge of his hips as his cock drove her higher until she shattered.

His hoarse cry filled the quiet as his seed bathed her channel in hot spurts. Cupping his head in her hands, she guided him down on top of her.

“I'm too heavy,” he protested halfheartedly.

“Shut up.” Gia clutched him to her, needing him close, their hearts pounding in unison.

He laughed and hugged her tightly to him, as though he cherished her. She'd thought it would have been safer in the dark, hidden from that golden gaze that saw more than she wanted to project. But without sight, there were no masks, no illusions between them.

She was falling for him, God help her dumb ass. No way in the cosmos would this end well. Because while she might trust him with her body, her heart was another matter entirely.

Zan's breathing evened out and he let out a soft snore. His cock, now soft, was still inside her, the feeling so much more intimate than when he'd been pounding between her thighs. The slightest shift of her hips would dislodge him, but she couldn't make herself do it, break that tentative connection between their bodies.

Relishing his heat, she closed her eyes, trying not to think about what would happen tomorrow.

The dream washed over her quickly, pulling her down deep, embedding her in his subconscious mind.