No Mercy (23 page)

“No!” Gia called, but it was too late. Higher and higher he flew, away from her, and toward his destruction. The first atmospheric shield opened and the stinger went through. It closed behind him before the second separated, allowing the stinger to pass, adjusting to less pressure and gravitational pull.

“God fracking damn it.” Dashing the tears from her eyes, Gia started running the preflight sequence, ready to chase him down, to shoot him out of the sky if necessary.

“Wait.” Duffy gripped her arm.

“I need to stop him.”

He nodded. “I agree. We will, but we need help.”

Turning her eyes skyward Gia watched as the pilfered stinger rose past the third shield and disappeared from view.

X
ander leaned against the window and waited while the irritating Illustra board members discussed the Zan situation. The whole lot of them were nothing more than yapping dogs he longed to kick. Yes, they'd amassed power over this little planet and their technology had him salivating in eager anticipation, but they were unbearably slow to take action. What more needed to be said that they hadn't already agreed upon? The terms were clear, simple enough for even their ineffective minds to understand. If they assisted him in destroying his son, he would help root out their fugitives. The living ship had shown him a detailed holo image of the battle in which Zan and his friends had defeated Illustra's dreadnought. He'd believed they would leap at his offer. As he waited for them to hash out the pros and cons of calling their assassin back, he entertained himself with thoughts of crushing their skulls between his palms like overripe melons.

The view from the boardroom was spectacular, the city skyline so close he could almost touch it and the blue ocean in the distance, shimmering in the light from the yellow dwarf star. Xander smiled as he imagined enslaving the population below. All the whores with their built-in health guards . . . the torture could go on for decades, centuries even, as long as his traitorous offspring didn't ruin his plans. His hands tightened into fists as he recalled the loss of Hosta to mere peasants. Zan and his woman would pay for inciting those riots.

The chatter had finally fallen away, and Xander turned back from the window to study his temporary allies. “I thought your assassin was the best,” he remarked flatly.

“There were unforeseen complications.” One of the board members, a male with a thick thatch of silver hair and a long pointed nose, folded his hands on the gleaming onyx table before him. “He will succeed eventually.”

Xander narrowed his eyes. “Our agreement was that Zan would be taken out immediately.”

“He has proven himself resourceful and we'd like to interrogate him.” It was the woman who spoke, a voluptuous brunette who he'd like to see on the end of a leash. The equality of women on this planet would be the first thing he'd change. “We can learn from him.”

Xander slammed his fists on the table. “Unacceptable! Those were not the terms we agreed upon. Zan is crafty and manipulative. I should know since I trained him myself.”

“He's one man,” the woman scoffed.

Xander straighten and clasped his hands behind his back. “That one man started a rebellion and cost me my kingdom. My palace was torn apart and I barely escaped with my life. An entire star system is in chaos because of
one man
.” As he spoke, he circled the perimeter of the room slowly.

“But you have his ship,” the brunette argued.

Only because he had its mother, the living base buried under the heavy snow in the Northlands. “Your point?”

“Why is it so important that he die when you can travel to the opposite end of the galaxy in seconds? Why not let us interrogate him, learn the whereabouts of the other fugitives before we dispose of him?”

Xander stopped behind her and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “It's a matter of pride. Something females wouldn't understand.” Her shiver made him lick his lips.

“We have other concerns.” The third board member, an obese man with dark skin and a bald pate, interjected. “The PR department has barely managed to keep a lid on the empath fiasco and Alison is still running loose out there. The other fugitives don't matter, but she knows too much about our operation. I say we set the assassin on her trail and let Xander clean up his own house.”

“Agreed,” said the woman, though she cringed away from Xander.

“And you?” Xander narrowed his focus onto the last man.

He studied his two cohorts for a beat before meeting Xander's eyes. “I would like to help you, if for nothing else than to keep you as an ally. But I've been overruled.”

“Fools,” Xander hissed. He didn't threaten them, too irate to think of a fitting punishment now. Instead, he turned on his heel and swept from the room and down the hall. His molecular transport beam activated when he typed in his personal code, and between one breath and the next he stood back in his quarters aboard the living ship.

This had been Zan's room. Xander could feel the echo of him here, like a wraith separated from the body, lingering past the point of death. Almost half a century Zan had dwelt within this room, inside this ship, while Xander languished on Hosta. He should have been the one exploring the galaxy, not his miserable bastard child.

Striding past the bed he studied the treasure room filled with valuable baubles from across the galaxy. His son had been busy, amassing such a fortune. He'd be coming for it, and for the ship.

He'd underestimated Zan's ambitions and it had cost him the Hosta system and his reputation. Though he controlled the living ship through its mother, his position was tenuous at best.

He could go wherever he wished, start over building himself up as a god among men. But what was to stop Zan from taking it all away again?

Only Xander.

Once Zan was dead, there wouldn't be another immortal to challenge him and he could begin a new empire. Perhaps Earth and its fruitful scientific advances had perfected cloning techniques. An immortal army of Xanders could take the human home world as his star system first and then expand his influence throughout the cosmos.

Moving to the viewport he studied the blue planet. Yes, Earth was the perfect place to rebuild his empire, starting with those worthless Illustra cowards. That bitch would learn her place before he let her die. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. He'd begin as soon as Zan was out of the picture for good.

 

Having been to Earth before, Zan knew the planet's defenses well. After hiding the stinger in a remote valley in the Catskills, he made his way to the farmhouse where he had lived many years ago. Though obviously abandoned, the place had withstood the test of time almost as well as Zan himself.

Though he'd sworn never to set foot on Earth's surface again, as he looked around the small ranch house he realized he missed this planet. The mild climate with steady precipitation and changing seasons. Abundant water forming lakes, rivers, even vast oceans teaming with wondrous creatures. Where in his mind Hosta represented death, Earth embodied life.

Ironic that he'd probably die here.

His thumb scan still unlocked the front door to the farmhouse. Stale air filled with dust as he walked across the wood floor. Stasis cloths were draped over every piece of furniture, repelling dust and insects. The property manager had done an excellent job keeping the place up.

Wandering from room to room Zan thought about the life he'd tried to carve out for himself here. He'd picked the isolated farm because he thought Isabella would have liked it. But the solitude and sameness grated on him after a few decades. Enduring his own company without reprieve day after day was a special kind of torment. He knew nothing of farming, had grown nothing but weeds.

The kitchen looked exactly the same as he remembered. Cherry-red knobs on the white cabinets, food replicator shaped like an old-fashioned refrigerator, even a potbellied stove in the corner, though it was fed with hydrogen compound logs instead of wood. He'd always avoided the kitchen and the homey air it projected, had even gone as far as having a replicator installed in his bedroom. Every time he'd come into this room there was a sense that something was missing. Laughter, the sounds of running feet. This space felt like a home. More than his room in his father's palace on Hosta ever had.

He thought about Gia, wondered if she'd grown up in a place like this. Looking at the white cabinets and countertops, the black-and-white checkerboard linoleum, he imagined her distaste. Gia liked color. He pictured her putting her mark on this place, changing everything. She would have filled the house with laughter. With children.

For the first time he allowed himself to imagine what that would have been like. Them together as a family, bringing life into the universe. Little blond girls with golden eyes and dark-haired boys with a penchant for mischief. If only that had been his legacy instead of death and destruction.

It could never be though. Gia and any children she had were bound to time. They would live and die, and he would linger on, like a bad smell floating on the air, not tied to anything anymore. In the end, that's what had driven him away from Earth, watching the aging process claim the few friends he'd made. Only Duffy could understand what that was like, seeing everyone around you decay while you remained frozen. But even Duffy would pass on some day. What good was immortality if you had no one to share it with?

“Nice pad you got here.”

Though he'd have known her voice anywhere, Zan couldn't believe his eyes. Gia leaned against a doorframe, arms crossed over her flight suit.

His mouth was completely dry. “You can't be here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You mean here in this house? Or here on Earth?”

“Both.”

“Well, I am. Saw this place in a dream. It doesn't exactly scream barbaric space pirate, though, so I blamed the roasted beets I indulged in at dinner the first time.”

“How could you possibly have beat me here?”

She shrugged. “Home field advantage. You're in my space now, Zan. This may be your house, but it's my planet.”

“If they catch you here, they'll kill you.”

Her expression hardened. “So would that assassin back on the base, but you didn't seem to mind leaving my life to chance there.”

“Gia,” he began, but she held up a hand. Though her posture projected nonchalance, her eyes flashed fire. His avenging angel had come to collect her due.

“Save it, Zan. Your plan was incredibly half-baked and you know it. Do you really want to give those power-mad bastards immortality?”

“If it saves your life and lets you come home, yes.”

She shook her head. “It's not worth the cost. Think about it. Instead of one power-mad sociopath, you'd have four to stop. Three times as much grief, destruction, and death all for my sake? I'm sorry, but that's not a burden I'm willing to shoulder.”

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, overwhelmed by frustration. “I can't just sit by and let it happen all over again! I need to
do
something, Gia.”

Unfolding her arms she took a step nearer to him. “Are you talking about Xander's reign on Hosta? Or what happened to Isabella?”

His throat closed up, thick with emotions he wished he could bury.

“None of that was your fault, Zan. Do you hear me? None of it. It was his actions, not yours. You didn't ask for any of it and you couldn't prevent it. “

Zan wanted to believe her. He drew a shuddering breath, but before he could respond she forged ahead.

“What happens now, though, from here on out, that will be on you. I thought you understood that when you spoke to the people of Hosta. You were so sure of right and wrong, and you told them exactly what they needed to hear. I was so proud of you. So in awe of you, but this . . .” She dropped his gaze, shook her head.

“If I die, or Duffy, or your crew, because you're obsessed with chasing ghosts, that's on you. We're in this together, Zan. And not because of a health guard failure and some magical memory spooge either. I'm here, risking my life and ready to fight and even die by your side, because I love you. I didn't want to, and I must have had an aneurism or something, because God knows it's the dumbest thing I've ever done, pinning my heart to a crashing star. But bright or foolish, I can't help how I feel. So my heart is yours. What you do with it is up to you.”

Floored by the courage she'd shown in confessing her feelings to him, he could barely absorb the meaning behind her words. She loved him, had admitted it, not as a ploy or a tactic to win control but of her own free will. Loving anyone was a gamble and Gia hadn't wanted to, had said as much. He didn't want her to regret following her heart.

Gia waited, but his mind was whirling too fast to churn up a suitable response. She would have brushed past him, but he caught her arm. The words wouldn't form. He didn't know what to say to her, but he needed her. “Stay with me. Fight with me. Love me. I promise I'll make it worth it or die trying.” He winked to lighten the dire message.

“So not funny.” Gia looked from his grip on her arm to his face. Her eyes searched him for an endless moment, and she nodded once. “No more running away from me. I mean it, Zan, I'm not in this for a nonstop mindfuck. I'd rather go our separate ways now than watch you destroy yourself.”

“I won't run from you anymore. I vow it.” Pulling her to him he touched his forehead to hers. His hands shook where they cupped her smooth cheeks. “I don't deserve you.”

Green eyes flashed mischief. “Then what do you deserve?”

“I hope we never find out.” Then he kissed her, that soul-melding kiss that made him lose track of where he was, what he intended to do, everything but her.

She pushed against his chest, halting his progress when he would have taken it further. “We have some things to figure out. Gen said that your ship is in the solar system.”

Zan scowled. “Gen's here?”

“Not here—on the moon colony, along with Duffy and the rest of your crew. A few of Slone's stinger pilots too.”

His mouth fell open. “Why would they come all this way?”

“They decided they want to help you get the ship back.”

Zan sank onto one of the ladder-back chairs. “Why?”