Shades of Treason (21 page)

He wanted to make love to her again; not out here, sweat-covered and dirty, but somewhere opulent. Somewhere that matched her strength and her beauty. Mikassia, perhaps. On a balcony beneath the purpled sunrise. Somewhere they could take their time. Somewhere they wouldn’t have to worry about who might be close enough to overhear them.

That last thought made him grimace. They deserved to be caught. What they’d just done—what they were currently doing, lying there naked in each other’s arms—was dangerous and careless and irresponsible.

And he couldn’t stop, couldn’t bring himself to put an end to this, because he knew once they moved, once they dressed themselves and climbed that wall, all the reasons they shouldn’t have tasted each other would crash down on them more quickly than they’d crashed down the DFC.

He had the impression that Ash sensed his thoughts. She stiffened slightly, and the hand that was resting on his chest curled tentatively, like it was no longer certain it had the right to touch him.

You have every right
, he wanted to say. It was he who didn’t. He was the one who should have been strong enough to say no.

“Ash—”

“That was a nice diversion, Rip,” she said as she quickly slipped out of his arms.

Her words knocked the air out of his lungs. A nice diversion?

The tilted smile she gave him now and every move she made as she dressed told him this was nothing more than a casual affair. Something she’d done time and again. It had no meaning.

He balled his hands into fists. He didn’t want to be another man on her list. He wanted to be her weakness.

She was fully dressed before Rykus had his pants on. He watched her head back to the crevice while he buckled them. Pulling his shirt on over his head, he told himself it was best that she didn’t care. Even if they survived this, even if they cleared her name and resumed their lives, they couldn’t be together. The Coalition would never allow it.

And
he
could never allow it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ASH ROLLED ONTO the top of the DFC.

She’d done it. She’d scaled the damn crevice. It hadn’t defeated her. The pursuit force hadn’t recaptured her. The withdrawal hadn’t taken her mind or her life. If she could make it to the city, she had a chance.

She stared up at the darkening sky, consciously regulating her breathing while she listened to the soft scrape of Rykus’s ascent. She still tasted him on her lips. She still felt the heat of his touch. Being with him had been…

She closed her eyes, unwilling to place too much significance on what had happened between them.

Flipping to her stomach, she forced her tired and sore arms to push herself off the ground.

As soon as she sat up, her gaze went to the east. Ephron City was finally visible beyond the treetops and a big, dark lake. Even from this distance, it was obvious the Sariceans had completely devastated the place. The attack had toppled the spires of the military industrial complex, and the fires that were still burning turned the thick haze hanging over the city a bright, angry orange. The entire region looked like it had been crushed by a capsule that had exited the time-bend off course.

She was still numbed by the sight when Rykus reached the top of the wall. Like Ash, he turned toward the city, then went still.

She saw rage in the way he clenched his jaw. She understood it. The death toll in Ephron City alone would reach the millions. They’d never find all the bodies. And the damage to the planet’s infrastructure would take years, maybe decades to recover.

“The Coalition needs to see what’s in the Sariceans’ files,” Rykus said without looking at her.

She wanted to decrypt the damn files, but she knew the inevitable outcome. Trevast and Hagan had known it too. Hagan might have decided he didn’t give a damn if the entire KU learned about the existence of telepaths, but Ash did. She’d sworn an oath to protect and preserve the Coalition. She couldn’t let it fall apart.

“You told Hagan you wouldn’t decrypt them.” A question invaded Rykus’s statement, and he looked her way.

When she met his gaze, heat flared through her stomach. It was mixed with another feeling, a feeling that might have been… awkwardness? She never felt awkward after sex. But then, she’d never lost control during it. She’d never
wanted
to lose control.

She focused on the city again.

“The files will clear your name,” Rykus continued. “And they’ll help us strike back against the people who did this. Keeping the information inaccessible makes no sense.”

She didn’t plan to keep the information inaccessible forever, just long enough to see what Trevast had found. Once she located Jevan and his copy of the files, she’d know more about what she and the Coalition were facing and who she could trust to help her take care of the threat.

How much of that could she tell Rykus? Something in her thoughts made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Say the wrong thing and she’d black out. But she needed Rykus on her side, needed his help, needed…

No, she didn’t
need
him. She wanted him.

“Why won’t you trust me?” Rykus asked, misinterpreting her hesitation. “I’m trying to save your life. It would help if you tried to save it…”

He stared at her. She could see the thoughts moving through his head one at a time, like an antique revolver with one round in the cylinder. His thoughts clicked and clicked and clicked until he found the loaded chamber.

“Goddamn it.” His whisper was so low she barely heard it.

Her eyebrows went up, waiting.

“You’re determined to preserve and protect the Coalition.”

“That was my oath, Rip.” A warning pressed against her upper spine. A cold sweat dampened her skin. She needed to change the subject.

“No, it’s…” He dragged a hand over his face. “It’s more than that. It’s the loyalty training. It brainwashed you into putting the Coalition first, your life last. That’s why you don’t want to decrypt the files. You think worlds will secede when they learn that telepaths infiltrated the government.”

Apprehension stabbed through her stomach. Rykus had identified precisely the reason why she wouldn’t decrypt the files, but he’d twisted her motivation. She wasn’t doing this because she’d been brainwashed. She believed in the Coalition’s mission to bring freedom, protection, and dignity to the citizens of each of its member worlds. She’d benefited from that mission. The Coalition had saved her soul when it dragged her away from Glory. It had saved billions of others over its short history, but more people needed help. More people were enslaved, starving, and hopeless.

“You’re wrong,” she said. Turning, she restarted the trek toward the city.

Rykus caught up. “I’m not wrong.”

“I’m not decrypting the files.”

“You don’t know what’s on them. It’s possible Stratham is the only telepath who’s infiltrated the Coalition. We can—”

Ash stopped walking. She stared at her fail-safe.

Rykus didn’t know about Jevan. How the hell was that possible? Had Hagan never said his name out loud? She tried to remember if he had. They’d talked about him for hours. Ash had answered every question Hagan threw her way, over and over again, but she couldn’t recall if he’d ever turned to Rykus and said Jevan’s name.

He must not have.

Rykus frowned, then slowly said, “Stratham isn’t the only telepath?”

His last word echoed in her mind as her consciousness dropped out from under her. She spun in the dark like a spacer who’d broken the tether to his ship. When she became aware again, her stomach cramped and the ground beneath her feet felt unsteady.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice before.” Rykus was standing a few paces away, arms crossed over his chest, a sober expression on his face.

She closed her eyes. Rykus had mentioned telepaths. All Ash had done was stop walking. She hadn’t tried to nod or speak or otherwise answer his question. The situation was still too far out of her control.

“Ash.”

Her eyes snapped back open. Rykus’s tone had held a warning. It wasn’t directed at her.

The only thing that moved was Rykus’s right hand. It rose to his gun, a gun he’d somehow managed to hold on to despite their fall down the DFC, the climb back up, and everything in between.

Ash’s mind cleared. Her senses sharpened. It was too quiet. With gray smoke darkening the sky and the trees and boulders scattered along the canyon’s rim, there were plenty of shadows to hide in, plenty of strategic places where her enemy could be placing his crosshairs on her. Or on her fail-safe.

Her eyes strained to pick up some movement; her ears strained to hear some sound. When Rykus turned his head slightly to look to their left, she turned hers slightly and looked to their right.

She almost missed the rifle. If the wind hadn’t shifted enough to let a faint beam of evening sunlight penetrate the haze, she wouldn’t have noticed it at all.

“Always knew you were trouble, sweetheart,” a male voice drawled. A silhouette separated from the shadows. And a smile spread across Ash’s face.

Sweetheart
.

Rykus recognized the voice, and even while the tension in his muscles began to relax, a different tension—an irritation—coiled in his stomach.

He turned, and Jon Kalver, an anomaly who’d been one of Ash’s classmates back on Caruth, lowered his rifle, a sweet-looking Kinetic A88. “You look like you’ve been smashed by a meteorite.”

“I’m glad to see you too,” Ash said.

The way her face lit up with a genuine grin grated against Rykus’s nerves. He was happy as hell to see Kalver too, but if Rykus had had his pick of any anomaly who might have been stationed on Ephron, Jon Kalver would have been the last man he chose.

But he undoubtedly would have been the first anomaly on Ash’s list. The two had been close during training. And the two had been trouble.

“How did you find us?” Ash asked. She might be battered and bruised, but she stood tall, shoulders back, chin thrust out like she could take on a whole army of anomalies. She had never allowed herself to show weakness, especially in front of her classmates.

Kalver slung the rifle over his shoulder. “The whole planet heard you rollin’ down that cliff a few hours ago. I’m surprised you’re still in one piece.”

“I’m surprised you paid attention to a little avalanche when the rest of the world is burning.”

“Picked up a Mayday a while ago.” Straightening into something close to attention, Kalver met Rykus’s gaze. “Sir.”

“Kalver,” Rykus said, acknowledging him with a nod.

“You’re being tracked, sir.” Kalver’s drawl disappeared. “A small pursuit force is sweeping the canyon below. Six soldiers are two klicks to the north and closing. More units are on the way.”

“What’s our best route to the city?” Rykus’s focus sharpened. He had data to analyze, a plan to construct.

“Heading east is the most direct route, but you’ll be trekking alongside the canyon most of the way, and the nearest unit could become a problem.”

Rykus ground his teeth together. Kalver hadn’t asked why he and Ash were being hunted by their own forces. He hadn’t asked why Ash was wearing combat fatigues that were too big and had another soldier’s name sewn into the material. He hadn’t asked any questions at all; he’d just provided information that would help them evade contact with Coalition soldiers.

Reason number 389 why the loyalty training was dangerous. If Hagan had been alive, Rykus would have pointed it out.

“What’s your recommendation?” Rykus asked.

“It’s a two-hour run to Ephron City. Longer with both of you injured. If the opposition force has men to spare, and they want you badly enough, sir, they’ll have observers at every point of entry. I’d recommend heading for an outpost instead of the city. There are two nearby.” He pulled his comm-cuff off his wrist and snapped it straight. “They’ll have guards, but I should be able to neutralize the threat without killing…”

Rykus and Ash both stared at the comm-cuff in his hand. The
functional
comm-cuff.

“I need to borrow that,” Rykus said.

Kalver held it out, but Ash cut between them, making a grab for it.

Rykus yanked her back. “We need help, Ash.
You
need help.”

Pulling her arm free, she lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “No.”

Defiance simmered in her eyes.

“I know the truth, Ash. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Her nostrils flared on his last word. Her chest rose when she drew in a breath, and her lips pressed together as if she was holding back words.

She probably was.

“We’ll encrypt the transmission,” he assured her. “I’ll contact Admiral Bayis directly.”

“Admiral Bayis sent a Predator to kill us.”

“We don’t know that.”

“We don’t
not
know it.”

“Ash—” He cut himself off when he heard the growl in his voice. If he pushed, if he intimidated, she’d do everything she could to do the opposite of what he wanted. He needed to coax her into seeing things his way.

Taking a small step toward her, he softened his words. “You can’t do this on your own. This is bigger than you. It’s bigger than us.”