Vanquished (19 page)

Visibly trying to
pull himself together, the other man wiped at his mouth with the back of one
hand. “What is the meaning of this, Sovereign?
This
kidnapping.”

“You are being
transported to Nibiru.
To face charges of genocide.”

With a glance at
Neira, Rush furrowed his brow. “I assure you, I have no idea of what you refer
to. This is preposterous and—”

Vayne cut him off,
tired of the charade. He’d indeed lost the taste for it now that the end was in
sight. “Save your response for the trial, Ambassador. I find I’m not
interested.”

****

Evil hid behind
many faces, or perhaps wore them blatantly if one had the wherewithal—or the
inclination—to look. Neira stared at the weedy old man who quavered in the face
of the accusation. He reminded her of a surface rat trying to find a way back
to the safety of its burrow without leaving its spoils behind. But his voice
reminded her of something else and if not for Vayne’s reassuring and supportive
presence she might have felt faint. The echo and flicker of horrible memories
danced in some remote area of her brain but were easily dismissed. They weren’t
going to whisper to her anymore.

She didn’t follow
Home World politicians or their politics, although as a soldier she had done
their bidding. One was the same as the other to those in the service. Don’t
wonder why. Do
…
or die. She dismissed that errant thought too. Neira hadn’t laid
eyes on this poor excuse for a human before but she’d heard him more than once,
his voice unmistakable.
Thin and with the undertone of
bluster.
Surface rat.

“Baraith threw you
to the dogs.” It was a calculated risk, but she took it.

Vayne went so still
she wondered if he breathed, but Rush’s attention was fixed on her. He opened
and closed that petulant mouth and swallowed before replying. “If you’re
referring to the Juxtant Monarch, I’ve never met him and thus have no idea what
you might be insinuating. And who might you be to speak thus to an ambassador?”

Ignoring his
attempt to distract her, Neira spoke quickly. “It must have been difficult for
you, wondering if I knew you were present on Ureses.
Difficult
for you to travel inconspicuously there, when he summoned you.”
She was
guessing, but it made sense Baraith would use and blackmail anyone still alive
that had been involved with the genetic weapon. And for sure he couldn’t go to
the Home World, being so easily recognized.

“I have no idea—”

“He has his own
exit strategy, Mr. Ambassador. He put you in the sovereign’s path to make it
easier for him. Provide him some cover.” Would he hear the lie?

Rush narrowed his
beady eyes and she could almost hear his brain spinning. She tried one last
time. “Don’t you wonder how I ended up here?
On this ship
with the sovereign?
Doesn’t it seem strange—like a conspiracy? I would
think you’d want to push back and take a little revenge of your own.”

With a bitter sound
that passed for a laugh, the man gestured at Vayne. “I’ll see no mercy
regardless.”

“But you’ll have
the satisfaction that he isn’t living a luxurious life while you’re…not.”

She put unobtrusive
pressure on Vayne’s arm, and he followed her lead and turned to escort her from
the area. She fought disappointment when the ambassador didn’t immediately
respond, but better they kept up an act of indifference.

“He’s closer than
one would think. And he has a bold plan. I’d tell you if I knew more,” Rush
called out to them.

Vayne slowed their
progress and moved his head to stare back at the ambassador,
then
spoke to the single guard. “Feed him and ensure he has access to a change of
clothing.”

Instead of
returning to the cramped cabin, he walked her along to the lift. “Well done,
little
leicat
.”

The praise warmed
her, although in truth they hadn’t learned much. Baraith hadn’t survived as
long as he had, on the run, eluding both the hunters on the Home World and
Vayne’s, without cunning and resources. And he was known for his machinations.
That warmth in her belly chilled to ice when she thought of bold plans and who
might be aiding him.

They gained the
bridge almost immediately, and she shadowed Vayne without a sound, feeling him
process the little information Rush had provided. It was eerie how quickly she
was learning to read him.
Like a soul
mate.
After ushering her to a seat, he took the captain’s chair and she watched
as his crew brought him reports and made verbal additions in response to his
questions. It appeared he’d called for reinforcements and they’d arrived and
were now planning to run the blockade of Outriders between here and Nibiru.
Neira hated the feeling of being helpless on a star vessel. She preferred to do
her fighting face-to-face and hand-to-hand. As she brooded, it struck her how
seamlessly she’d fit into Vayne’s space—and when confronting Rush, Neira had
thought of the sovereign as her lifemate.

Her previous
anxiety and wariness had diminished considerably, replaced by a sense of calm
acceptance. She glanced around and encountered not a few wistful stares, all
with an undertone of what she interpreted as pride and excitement. It struck
her she was now ranked as royalty and Neira wondered if she wanted the burden
or if she could even shoulder it and do it justice. Vayne fixed her with a look
and she returned it. The very air seethed and she cast off her worries in the
face of such lust. The dampening of her underwear made her shift in her seat
and the sovereign’s eyes dilated, the ocean turquoise absorbed by the dark
pupils. The others on the bridge vanished in her narrow vision. Her focus was
entirely on Vayne, and she struggled to remember where she was and exercise
some decorum.

Leaning forward, he
muttered, “I want to become that cave male your people speak of, Neira. I wish
to drag you back to our quarters and have my way with you. But duty calls and I
must ask you to retire there, and wait. Our connection is distracting the
crew.”

Nodding, she
shakily got to her feet, grateful one of them had some control. Maybe this was
what came of a long sexual drought broken by amazing hotness and exceptional
sex, but there was a time and a place. Her presence on the bridge had been
calculated, she knew, and the message was received—bonded. Vayne was indeed a
politician as well and knew how to make a statement, but now it was about
maintaining discipline for the upcoming battle. So many
roles,
and her admiration grew. He rose with her and again offered his arm.

Such little time
had passed, yet so much had transpired. Neira was distracted by Vayne’s
closeness once again in the narrow confines of the shaft. They stepped out and
his hand drifted over her buttocks. Her soft underwear wasn’t enough to contain
her immediate response. The damp fabric flooded with her arousal and Vayne
nearly dragged her to their quarters, his eyes wild and his gait awkward
because of his erection.

He slammed his hand
against the scanner and whirled her through the door as the panel hissed open.
The
paca
was removed unceremoniously,
the whisper of the fine fabric abrading her nipples and her senses. Vayne’s
strength mocked her height and healthy weight as he lifted her right off her feet
and held her against the wall.

Neira registered
the coolness of the hull until Vayne’s mouth found hers and she heated past any
boiling point. Wrapping her legs around his lean hips, she yanked him closer
and the bulge in his pants pressed deliciously against her apex. She worked her
pelvis against him, searching for just the right pressure on her clit.

Vayne chuckled and
spoke against her lips. “I see we must learn to share control, little warrior.”

She bit his bottom
lip and soothed the mark with her tongue, her hands pressing against the back
of his shoulders, one trailing upward to caress his nape. “You don’t have a lot
of time,” she whispered.

“I have no time,
yet I must find some, because I won’t be able to function in this state.” With
a grunt he used his weight to pin her while freeing a hand to reach between
them. Her panties were yanked to one side, the fabric twisting along the cleft
of her buttocks and providing some interesting friction.

Before she could
dwell on that, he released his cock and plunged inside of her without any
fanfare. He was so big that she wondered if he’d fit, in that one thrust, but
she was so wet he slid right in. This was the kind of sex she was familiar
with, hurried, frantic couplings with both of them jockeying for position and
control. Neira squeezed around him and he set his teeth in that tender join
between
shoulder
and throat. Any familiarity then
washed away at the bite of pain, followed by the furious pace he set. He held
her in place effortlessly, powering through the thrusts and strokes, as an
invader, a conqueror, and she found herself willingly submitting once again.

The way he moved
put pressure where she needed it most. With more clever surges and a swivel of
his hips her release built deep in her belly. She held on blindly, her fingers
desperately clinging to him while knowing he’d never let her fall, and the
orgasm blindsided her, eliciting a cry of completion that echoed in her ears.
Vayne kept fucking her steadily, right through the vestiges of the climax, and
she plateaued, hanging there in limbo until his strokes faltered.

Those big hands
cupped her ass and tilted her, forcing him so deep it pinched like his teeth at
her neck and she broke yet again, a shivery culmination that had her banging
her head against the wall. Vayne instantly drew her off and stumbled to the
bunk, Neira still wrapped around him.

He softened enough
to give her some respite and she feebly pushed at his chest in order to fill
her lungs. He relaxed his hold and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You make me
wild, Neira.”

Her nether parts
were throbbing and she’d be sore when the endorphins faded, but for now she was
soaking it all in. “Not complaining.”

Standing, he
rearranged his uniform, hiding that marvelous tool of her pleasure—better than
all those inanimate ones stored in those drawers—and stared down at her. The
passion had abated but Neira saw the other strong emotions reflected there and
they scared her as much as drew her. She was experiencing something remarkably
similar and all the sex and this feeling stuff was addling her brain.

“I must go and see
to the negotiating.
Unfortunately.
If
there is any to be done.”
His voice rasped over her much as his
calloused hand had.

“Right.
The
negotiating.”
She shook her head a little and things cleared up. “Ah,
right, you’re going to use the ambassador as a bargaining chip for safe
passage.”

With an approving
smile at her recollection, he nodded.
“If necessary.
Although I expect the appearance of four well-armed Shadalla warships will
worry the Outriders enough.
Especially when the chain of
command has been interrupted.”

“And better not to
show your complete hand.”

Vayne looked
puzzled.
“Oh, a card game reference.
Indeed. You prove
invaluable with your insights. Stay here, my love, until I come for you.”

She absolutely
didn’t want him out of her sight but sucked it up. She was useless in this
fight and would use the opportunity to play the role of his chosen.
Female.
Lifemate.
Whatever.
She belonged to him and
he
,
to her.
“All right.”

“Such resignation,”
he teased. “But it’s for the best.”

“I know. It would
be different on the battlefield.”

That look tightened
his features. A look that signaled there was no way in hell he’d allow her to
fight by his side on any battlefield, and it was irksome. But it wasn’t even in
play and she wasn’t wasting her energy. With an effort, she kept silent and he
squinted,
then
gave her that smile that made her knees
wobble.
Such a
girl
.
“We will never be bored in our relationship.”

That
was something they could agree on and she nodded. Vayne leaned
in to kiss her and she shuddered with sudden premonition.

“What is it?”

“A
feeling.
I really don’t know.”

Studying her, he
then shrugged. “I won’t dismiss anything you feel, little warrior. I’ll program
the display panel for you to contact me if you need to.”

That eased her mind
and she mustered up a smile, taking the opportunity to kiss him before watching
him leave once again. His satisfied smirk at her display of affection made her
want to pinch him. This
thing
between
them was going to take a lot of getting used to and she should probably work on
her denial. Soul mate wasn’t in her vocabulary but was the best descriptor if
she allowed herself to think of it. Neira clambered to her feet and tugged her
constricting underwear off, heading to wash up. She’d change into her tunic and
leggings to make a point—if only to
herself
.
Lots
to get used to.