“Ow!”
“Sorry!”
Writhing in midair in a hopeless tangle of clothes, arms, and legs, they only tumbled faster. Rance laughed as he grabbed for her head to keep it from knocking against the side of the core, then yelped as he barked his knuckles on the neutronium glass.
“Are you okay?” She slapped a hand against the glass, trying to slow them down.
“Yeah, but this isn’t—ouch!” His shoulder thumped against the housing. With a growl, he shot out a booted foot and kicked, sending them floating away from it. “This isn’t one of my more suave seductions.”
“You give suave seductions?” Zarifa blinked in mock innocence. “I thought you just kind of pounced and nibbled.”
He narrowed his eyes with mock outrage. “I’ll show you pouncing!”
Her giggle became a yelp as he ruthlessly jerked her uni down her hips and off her legs, then sent it sailing across the chamber. Before he could grab her again, she released the grip of her legs, kicked against a passing bulkhead, and shot toward the opposite side of the chamber.
Naked, still laughing, she steadied herself with a handhold and watched as he ruthlessly attacked his own uni. Hard muscle rippled as he bent double to drag off his boots, then pulled the suit down his thighs.
“Have I mentioned I love your ass?”
The suit went flying as he gave her a glittering look, braced his bare feet on the bulkhead, and sprang toward her. Zarifa yelped and kicked off, but Rance was more practiced in zero gravity, and he snagged her ankle before she could escape.
“Come here, you.” He dragged her into his arms.
Zarifa pretended to swat at him. “Bad dog!”
“And I’m about to show you exactly how bad.” One big hand found her breast as the other slipped between her thighs. Her laughter became a gasp as a long finger slid deep.
“I’m not the only one who’s bad.” His grin turned smugly wicked. “Your Imperial Highness is wet.”
Zarifa reached down and closed her fingers around the thick length of his cock. “And that’s a very nice bone you’ve got there, doggy.”
His golden eyes narrowed in offense. “Keep it up, and I’ll paddle the royal ass.”
Then she stroked, and his eyes went wide and a little dazed. Deciding to try something she’d seen in one of her more forbidden simmies, Zarifa caught his hip and pulled herself down his body. The rosy head of his erection bobbed, tipped with a single bead of arousal. Still clinging to him, she licked the little droplet away.
His gasp was so gratifying, she opened her mouth and took the head inside.
“Zarifa!”
She ignored his strangled cry, far more interested in the velvet texture of his cock and the long, thick veins snaking up its length.
Rance must have been a veteran of zero-gravity sex, because he resisted the urge to squirm as she licked and suckled. Instead, he grabbed two handholds on the side of the core and held his body rigid. Zarifa rolled her eyes up at him, curious. His eyes were closed, his lips parted in pleasure.
The sense of power was immediate—and irresistible. She licked him slowly, loving the way he quivered against her. She gave him a gentle, testing nibble, and he jerked.
“You’re living dangerously, Zarifa.” The growl was low, menacing—and deliciously arousing. She looked up to find his golden eyes narrowed to feral slits as he stared down at her.
Daring, she took his balls in hand and gently caressed them in her fingers. He rewarded her with a groan that made her inner muscles clench in need. God, she wanted him.
And she was going to have him.
Catching hold of his waist with one hand, she pulled herself into position and wrapped her legs around his thighs. “Oh, yeah…” he purred, rolling his hips. “That’s it, darlin’.”
Zarifa aimed his cock with her free hand and curled her legs tighter, slowly impaling herself. He felt impossibly hard, impossibly endless as he slid inside one sweet centimeter at a time.
She gasped. “Rance!”
“Yeah.” His head rolled back, baring the long, muscled arch of his throat. “Again…”
Licking her dry lips, she braced both hands on his chest and pushed off just far enough, then screwed herself back onto him again. “This is hard!” she panted.
He grinned, white and wicked. “You’re telling me.”
Sex in zero gravity took a lot of effort. If they tried to go too fast, they’d bounce apart, so they had to take it slow.
And it was the single most arousing thing she’d ever experienced in her life.
They surged against each other, hips circling, grinding. Maddening each other with every teasing thrust. Pleasure gathered and pulsed as she watched his face, loving the wild glitter in his eyes, the fine muscles that clenched with effort, the fiercely gritted teeth. Until he arched against her with a shout, spinning her off into fire.
She screamed as she came.
Zarifa curled in his arms, listening to the wild thump of his heartbeat. He’d released his grip on the handholds, and now they floated together lazily. She felt at peace for the first time in…
Well, actually she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this peaceful. It had probably been while her parents were still alive.
With a murmur of contentment, she tightened her hold on his broad back and snuggled down. It would take them another three weeks to get to Thronesystem and the rendezvous with Kuarc’s adviser, Edin.
Three weeks. Rance was hers for the next three weeks. After that…Well, after that it would be over.
Pushing away that thought, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip on his sweating body.
And basked in the sense of peace she knew would be all too brief.
EIGHT
Zarifa sat back in the pilot’s seat with a sigh. Her head ached with the sullen intensity that came from hours of effort. She looked around to find Rance watching her with concern.
“Are we in?”
“We’re in.”
Around them, the three-dimensional control display showed the asteroids that surrounded the Empire’s Hope. Some were no bigger than grains of sand, others the size of star liners, but all of them tumbled erratically from frequent collisions. It was probably the most dangerous place for a ship in the Thronesystem, with the possible exception of the core of the local sun.
“I don’t like this.” Rance studied the display with a dark frown.
“I’m not exactly thrilled myself.”
It had been a nerve-racking flight. First they’d come into Thronesystem under heavy shielding to avoid being detected by the Empire’s security forces. Next she’d spent three hours maneuvering into the asteroid belt that lay on the outer edge of the system—all that remained of two planets that had collided a couple of billion years before. She’d then had to find the right enormous chunk of rock, match its tumbling spin, locate its hidden airlock, and perform a nightmare of a docking maneuver.
It was a kilometer-long asteroid that was no asteroid, but rather one of the Rebellion’s hidden bases. Zarifa had no idea how many such bases Kuarc had, or where they were located, but she figured they’d all be as tough to get to as this one. Otherwise, Umar and the Imperial Marines would have found them by now. Lady knew they’d looked.
Now that the Hope was docked, she silently ordered the ship to issue a short-range communication squirt. “Hope to Centurion.”
The response was instant; he must have been standing over the com. “I see you found the place.” Edin sounded so much like her father, it hurt.
“Barely. You folks don’t much want visitors, do you?”
“Depends on the visitor. I’m looking forward to seeing you. It’s been a long time.”
She smiled. “Too long. Where do you want to meet?”
“Come on down the main corridor into the warehouse. We’ll talk there. Centurion off.”
Zarifa cut the connection and took a deep breath, trying to ignore her stomach’s unhappy little jitter
. She’d been working for this moment for weeks, but now that it was here, she almost wished she could put it off. So much could go wrong…
She turned to find Rance watching her, his gaze all too perceptive. “Zarifa, just stay on the ship. Let me meet with Edin. I’ll give him the message, whatever the hell it is. You don’t need to—”
“Thank you for the offer, but we both know I can’t take you up on it.” She swung her legs off the pilot’s couch and reached out to cup his cheek. They’d spent the past three weeks talking and making love, and she suspected she now knew him better than she’d ever known anyone in her life. Being protective came as automatically to him as breathing. “This is something I have to do myself. It’s a matter of honor.”
Frustration flared in his eyes. “Look, this is a trap. You know it, I know it—”
“And you seriously think I’m going to send you in alone?”
“I can turn into a two-meter werewolf. I’m a hell of a lot less killable than you are.”
“And I’m empress. I know my duty, Rance. If Edin’s setting me up, Kuarc will be somewhere around. I’ll tell him what I need to tell him, and he’ll back off.”
“What the hell makes you think that?”
Hanging on to her temper with an effort, she gritted, “Because he won’t have a reason to kill me anymore.”
“You’re assuming he needs one!”
Frustrated with the argument, she stood and fisted her hands on her hips. “Are you going with me or not?”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not letting you go alone.” Growling, he got up and stalked toward the airlock.
The base’s airlock door opened on a dimly lit corridor that seemed to have been cut through the asteroid’s rock with a laser. Zarifa started to step through the ’lock, but Rance grabbed her armored wrist. She stopped and looked up at him, her violet gaze questioning. He’d shifted to werewolf form, so she looked even more delicate to him than usual.
“Let me check it out first,” he told her.
She frowned, looking along the corridor. “My nanosystem sensors aren’t picking up anything.”
“Neither are mine, but my wolf senses aren’t as easy to fool.” He inhaled deeply, scenting. “A standard human male came this way a few hours ago. Alone.”
“Edin. Coming to our meeting solo, just like he said he would.”
“Which doesn’t mean an ambush team didn’t come in through another airlock.” Rance prowled through the opening, his every sense on high alert. Zarifa’s boots scraped on the corridor’s stone as she followed him. Like him, she was wearing full armor, a nanoblade great sword sheathed across her back.
At the end of the corridor lay a pair of enormous double doors that probably led to the warehouse Edin had spoken of. After a cautious scan, Rance drew his sword, triggered the doors open, and walked in.
The room was cavernous, filled with stacks of crates that towered meters high. Rance spotted one that still bore the logo of Conlon Shipping. He’d probably brought it over himself years before.
A man stepped from behind one of the stacks. Tall, rangy, he wore the stark black uni favored by Kuarc’s men. His hair was thick and red, and his eyes were the distinctive violet of the Lorezo clan. Rance noticed a strong resemblance to Kuarc in the aquiline shape of his nose and the thin line of his mouth, but he looked even more like Lodur, the old emperor. He gave Zarifa a slight smile. “Greetings, child.”
“Edin!” Zarifa started forward, a grin of pure happiness lighting her face.
Rance clamped a hand over her wrist, not taking his eyes off the older man. “No closer, Zarifa.”
She looked around at him, startled. “But—”
“He smells dirty. And I don’t think it’s just that he set you up for an ambush by the Bastard’s men.”
A bitter smile twisted Edin’s mouth. Steel hissed as he drew the sword sheathed across his back. “Fucking werewolf. Kuarc always said you could scent a lie.”
Suddenly far too many things became far too clear. Rance spun his sword in a circle and started forward, a snarl twisting his werewolf muzzle. “I always wondered why I’d never met Kuarc’s second-in-command.”
Zarifa shot him a look as she drew her own weapon and fell into guard. “Wait—he’s working for Umar?”
One of the crates slid open with a hiss of escaping air. A warrior in imperial armor stepped from it. “Edin’s never worked for anybody but himself.”
“Gerik!” Zarifa took a step back, the scent of her fear acrid to Rance’s wolf senses. Not surprising; she’d told him how the bastard had terrorized her for years.
With a lupine howl of pure rage, Rance swung up his sword and charged.
The two armored men collided with the thunderous crash of steel meeting steel. Zarifa heard Rance’s ripping wolf snarl and Gerik’s furious curses. The Fist’s massive blade blurred in a glittering arc, and she sucked in a breath.
Rance met it with a ringing parry, then pivoted into his own ferocious attack. She realized that as powerful as Gerik was, he might have met his match.
A blur of motion in the corner of her eye jolted her into awareness of her own peril. She spun aside and brought up her sword for a parry that rattled her teeth.
Edin’s too-familiar face sneered across their locked weapons. “You know, don’t you? My fucking cousin got word to you from beyond the grave.”
“Except for the part about you being a traitor.” She disengaged her sword from his and brought the weapon up in a furious slash that forced him to leap back. “So what nasty role did you play in our sorry family story?”
He laughed in her face and tried to take off her head. Zarifa leaped back, parrying strike after strike as he chased her. Finding her rhythm at last, she retaliated with a blurring combination of strokes that drove him back. Daring a glance over her shoulder at Rance and Gerik, she found them hacking at each other like madmen, with grunts and curses of effort and a display of inhuman speed. In werewolf form, Rance towered over the cyborg, but she knew Gerik’s viciousness made him a match for his opponent’s greater size.
Beyond them, in the shadows of a stack of crates, Zarifa thought she saw a flicker of motion. For just an instant, a pale face stared back at her.
Casus? What the hell was the—
Edin’s sword came whirling at her face. She ducked and forgot the slaver as she focused on staying alive.
Zarifa’s fiancé might be an aristo, but he was also a hulking, powerful cyborg who was fast on his feet, strong as a Centarian dragon, and mean all the way to the bone.
“You’re not bad, for a mongrel slave,” Gerik sneered as the two men circled, each looking for a weakness in the other’s defenses. “But you’re still a dead man.”
“You first,” Rance sneered back, even as he used his nanosystems for another scan. Besides Gerik, Edin, Zarifa, and himself, there were three other people in the room, which begged the question of why they were just hanging back watching. But why only three? Why not an army?
Unless somebody’s minimizing the number of witnesses to the empress’s assassination…
Not good. Not good at all.
He parried another teeth-rattling attack and danced around Gerik on the balls of his feet before launching a lethal swing at the cyborg’s chest. Gerik’s parry was a fraction late. Rance’s nanoblade sliced through that black imperial cuirass, then tore free in a rain of scarlet drops.
He grinned at the sweet copper scent of blood. “Bet that hurt.”
Gerik spat an obscenity that had Rance laughing as he stepped in close for another swing. He lifted his blade—
The pain came out of nowhere in a blinding, sickening explosion that cut Rance’s legs out from under him. He went down hard, shooting a terrified look at the legs that must have been hacked off at the knee.
They were whole. No sign of blood, no wet slash in his armor. But sweet God, the pain—
He threw himself into a roll to avoid Gerik’s savage downward chop at his head. The sword st
ruck the deck with a grating shriek.
Fresh agony detonated in the center of his chest, freezing his lungs, tearing a strangled gasp from his lips.
A big, booted foot smashed down on the center of his cuirass, pinning him to the floor. Gerik’s sword pressed against the side of his throat before he could knock it aside.
“Surrender, Zarifa!” the cyborg bellowed. “Or I’ll cut off your mutt’s head!”
Rance lay writhing on the deck under Gerik’s armored boot, pain twisting his lupine muzzle in a grimace.
Zarifa looked frantically for blood on his armor but saw nothing. Then again, the armor was black and red…
“Throw it down, or he dies,” Edin snarled, thrusting his sword at her.
“Don’t you dare!” Rance yelled, his voice hoarse. “Don’t let these bastards win!”
Block his pain, she ordered her nanos. Get him up!
Unable to comply. We have been locked out of his system.
Horrible understanding flooded her. Oh, sweet Lady—they’d seized control of his collar!
Casus swaggered out of the shadows, one of his ’borg bodyguards at his heels. “I told you there isn’t a slave’s system Captain Aaren can’t hack,” he told the big man beside him.
“So you did,” Umar said. He gave Zarifa a terrifying smile, looking massive in the gold and black nanotium armor of the Imperial House. A cadre of bodyguards in the same armor trailed behind him. “Assuming you want to keep your furry friend alive, isn’t it about time to surrender?”
NINE
Fangs gritted, Rance surged under the boot that held him down, trying with everything in him to throw Gerik off. Though he was stronger than the cyborg in wolf form, whatever they’d done to him had drained his strength. He could barely lift his head, much less heave this armored monster off himself.
“You’re not going anywhere, puppy.” Gerik’s blade dug deeper into Rance’s throat as he lifted his voice. “Except to hell, if Zarifa doesn’t drop that sword.”
Steel clattered on the deck. “Don’t hurt him.”
Rance tried to wrench free again. Failed. “They’re going to kill me anyway, dammit!”
“No, they’re not.” Her voice sounded surprisingly steady, surprisingly calm. “Not if they expect me to marry Gerik.”
His despair turned to sick horror. “Zarifa!”
She turned her back on Edin and strode toward the regent, wrapped in royal arrogance like a cloak. “You don’t control me anymore, Umar. If you expect me to cooperate, you’re going to have to give me what I want.”
Umar lifted a sooty brow. “And what would that be?”
“Remove Rance’s collar and let him go.”
Rance grabbed Gerik’s boot, but his fingers had no strength. “They’ll kill you the day after the wedding!”
Gerik grinned maliciously and said in a low, suggestive voice, “Oh, not quite that soon. It would look bad.”
Rance stared up at the man as a tide of raw hate rolled over him. “I’m going to rip out your throat.”
The regent’s son laughed.
As Rance stewed in his frustration, Umar turned to murmur something to his guards, who turned reluctantly and marched out, presumably to stand watch outside. He must not want any witnesses to this conversation, Rance thought grimly. Which is a very bad sign.
“So if we release your werewolf,” the regent said after they were alone, “you’ll marry my son?”
“Yes.” Zarifa spoke with no hesitation at all. “But only after Rance sends word from the Freeworlds that he has arrived safely home.”
“You drive a hard bargain, my dear. But yes.”
He must think she’s an idiot. Rance ground his teeth in fury as he glared up at Gerik. A new thought struck him, and he went still. Of course he does. He’s controlled her every move for years. He has no idea what she’s capable of.
But Rance did. Zarifa was intelligent, determined, and capable. She knew who she was dealing with, and she knew they’d break any agreement they made. What’s more, she wouldn’t let them get away with it.
Which meant she had something in mind. He had to be ready to move when she put her plan in action.
Rance let his body go limp and dropped his head to the deck. Pretending submission to these bastards went against every instinct he had, but he knew his woman. She wouldn’t fail him. And he wouldn’t fail her.
“Yes, that’s right, dog. Give up.” Gerik smirked down at him in triumph. “You can’t win.”
Umar’s smile was so smug, hate threatened to choke Zarifa. The fact that he wore the arms of the emperor splashed across his cuirass only added to the insult. She ach