ed to see his blood fly, but years of practice let her keep the rage off her face. Instead, she widened her eyes in the guileless, earnest expression she’d learned to wear like a mask.
Umar didn’t realize it, but he’d made her a very good actor.
“You’ll let Rance take my ship, and you’re not going to interfere.”
Through his open visor, he gave her that benevolent look he wore whenever he was planning a betrayal. “Of course.”
“That’s not all.” She started reeling off further conditions, making them up as she went along as she moved into position.
Casus stood beside the regent, visibly basking in his role of trusted ally. Idiot. He was a dead man. Umar didn’t leave witnesses to his more flamboyant acts of evil, which was probably why he was using Casus and Aaren instead of his own valuable hackers. Knowing Casus, he’d probably been stupid enough to volunteer their services in bringing the werewolf in.
Captain Aaren stood behind him, his expression abstracted through his visor. Probably trying to make sure Rance didn’t break free of his control and kill Gerik.
Perfect. Still rattling off conditions, she stepped in close to the slaver and flicked her right wrist. The nanoblade dagger dropped into her hand even as she drove her left fist at Casus’s face.
Just as she expected, Aaren automatically jolted forward to defend him, swinging up a huge, armored hand to block her blow.
Zarifa drove her dagger into the underside of the bodyguard’s jaw, right in the seam between his helmet and throat guard. Aaren choked and went down, dead before he hit the ground.
And so was his control over Rance’s nanosystem.
Drop all controls on Rance.
Done.
Rance roared in a throaty blast of sound more lion than wolf.
Both Rance’s hands clamped hard around Gerik’s ankle before the ’borg even had time to react to Umar’s shout of alarm. As Aaren went down, Rance tossed his opponent into the air like a playing card.
Gerik hit the deck in a rattling crash of armor. Rance flipped over and sprang at him with a snarl. His armored fist hit the ’borg’s faceplate so hard, the tough visor spiderwebbed like glass. He hit it again, then a third time, intent on breaking through and killing Zarifa’s tormenter. His lips peeled off his teeth…
Gerik slammed both big hands into his chest and sent him flying with a heave. Rance hit the ground rolling and bounded to his feet before the stunned ’borg had time to rise. As he started back toward his enemy, something clattered against the toe of his boot. Rance bent, scooped up the sword he’d dropped, and began to stalk the man who’d abused and threatened Zarifa.
Gerik slapped his own faceplate, clearing away the broken visor. To Rance’s satisfaction, blood flowed from countless cuts on his face. “You’re dead, mongrel,” he hissed, his eyes wide and wild with rage. “And then I’ll fuck Zafira before I kill her.”
“No.” Rance swung his great sword into position. The anger that filled him was a cold, pure thing, as focused as a laser. “You’re just going to die.”
Umar swung his great sword at Zafira’s belly, but she leaped clear and began to circle him. “You’re a fool, thinking you can take me,” he sneered. “You don’t even have a sword!”
No, she’d had to drop it when Gerik threatened Rance. But she did have a dagger—and more importantly, her Imperial Combat nanosystem. Umar, judging from the arrogance on his face, had forgotten all about that.
From the corner of one eye, she saw Edin standing off to one side, watching the fight with the casual interest of a man at a z-boxing match. Casus, meanwhile, stood over Aaren’s body and wrung his hands, visibly longing to run.
“Bitch!” Umar charged, swinging his sword in a furious arc. Zarifa coolly stepped into his charge, catching the descending sword with her dagger. She twisted and wrenched upward with all her nanobot-enhanced strength. The sword flew out of Umar’s hand. He grabbed for it frantically, but she snatched it out of the air.
For an instant, their eyes met. The regent’s widened in shock and disbelief. She bared her teeth and whirled the great blade in a vicious arc. He tried to stumble clear—
The impact jarred her arm to the shoulder.
Umar’s body toppled as his helmeted head hit the deck with a rolling clatter. The monster was finally dead.
“Father!”
She whirled as the big man spun away from Rance and plunged toward her, his sword lifted. “You’re dead, you little whore!”
Zarifa had time for an instant’s icy fear. She’d already learned her combat system was no match for his cyborg power. Bracing herself, she lifted her sword and prepared to parry.
Gerik stopped in his tracks with an odd, gasping sound. He looked down.
Zarifa followed his gaze and saw three inches of blade protruding from the center of his chest.
Behind him, Rance said, “I told you you’re a dead man.” He jerked the sword free.
“No,” Gerik wheezed. “I’m not supposed to lo—” He never finished the sentence. His eyes rolled back as he fell.
Her nanos warned her. Zarifa whirled, her sword swing taking Casus in the belly the instant before he could bury his dagger in her back.
“I wanted to do that,” Rance said, watching the slaver topple.
“And I’d rather have let you.” Zarifa grimaced and swallowed bile. She badly wanted to sit down. As many times as she’d practiced swordplay with her trainer, she’d never killed a man before. Now she’d slain three.
Rance reached for her, but before he could take her in his arms, the warehouse’s double doors slid wide.
Oh, sweet Lady, Zarifa thought, her heart stuffing its way into her throat. Not more of them…
They turned to see Kuarc Lorezo saunter in at the head of a small army of armored men, two of whom were dragging a badly battered Edin. Evidently he must have tried to slip out when he realized which way the fight was going.
Every one of the rebels was covered in blood and breathing hard. Apparently they’d run into Umar’s bodyguard—and it hadn’t gone well for the guards.
Kuarc bared his teeth in something she didn’t mistake for a smile, his eyes assessing the bodies lying around the room. “Well, Sister, you have been busy.”
Weariness and shock kept her from choosing her words more carefully. Anyway, she was tired of pretending. “I’m not your sister.”
Kuarc laughed, but a dangerous anger flared in his violet eyes. He looked like a younger version of her father: big, broad-shouldered, with a mane of red hair tied back in a club. “I’ve got blood tests that say differently.”
“They were identical twins.” She tugged off her gauntlet and dropped it on the deck. “That’s the only reason my father was able to pass you off as his bastard.”
“Zarifa,” Rance hissed, “what the hell are you doing?”
“The girl’s drunk again,” Edin put in. “That, or she’s gone mad.”
“Shut up,” Kuarc snapped. “You’re in this up to your neck.” He bared his teeth at his second-in-command. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice what you were up to? Did you really think I wouldn’t have you followed?” He turned his attention to Zarifa and lifted his sword. “As for you, I’d strongly recommend you start talking sense, if you can. I’m running out of patience.”
“It’s simple, Kuarc. You’re not a bastard.” She fought to drag the big diamond off her finger. It had, of course, never fit particularly well, since it wasn’t her ring. “You’re the legal son of Emperor Sevan Lorezo, who married your mother before his death. This is her ring—and the proof of their marriage.” The diamond finally slid free, and she dropped to one knee, extending it to her stunned cousin. “You’re the rightful emperor, Kuarc. You always were.”
As she brushed a thumb over the diamond, it triggered the simmie recording the stone held. The three-dimensional image flashed into being, showing a handsome young redheaded man standing next to a slender blonde who wore an expression of gi
ddy joy. “Would you kiss the bride already, Sevan?” a voice called in the background. “I’m in the mood to get drunk.”
Like most modern rings, the diamond had recorded all the significant events of the couple’s marriage, from the wedding ceremony to their son’s birth.
Kuarc extended his hand, his expression dazed. She dropped the ring in his palm. “They were married in a secret ceremony not long before the old emperor died. Your mother was pregnant with you at the time,” Zarifa explained softly. “She was a commoner, and Sevan was hoping to present his father with a fait accompli. But the emperor died, and Sevan had to leave her to take up his duties. He apparently planned to announce their marriage once he had the nobility under control. He was on his way back to claim her when he was killed.”
Kuarc blinked the eyes so like her own. “And your father knew all this?”
She nodded. “He’d planted Umar in Sevan’s entourage as a spy. After the assassination, Umar convinced Lodur he could be emperor. All they had to do was conceal the fact that you were Sevan’s legitimate son. Then Umar spent the next fifteen years blackmailing my father.”
“Lodur always claimed my mother was one of the maids. Said Grandfather got rid of her.” He looked stunned. “What really happened to her?”
“She’s still alive,” Zarifa told him. “But Umar programmed her nanosystem to ensure she could never tell anyone about the marriage or about you.”
“Why didn’t they just kill me?” He stared down at the ring, visibly struggling to take it all in. “It would have been easier all the way around.”
“You were an infant, Kuarc,” Zarifa told him. “Umar floated the idea, but my father wouldn’t have it.”
“Lodur wasn’t evil,” Rance murmured, repeating what she’d said weeks before. “He just wasn’t very good.”
Mechanically, Kuarc thumbed the diamond. “Would you kiss the bride already, Sevan?” the recorded voice repeated. “I’m in the mood to get drunk.” He thumbed it again. “Would you kiss the bride already, Sevan? I’m in the mood to get drunk.”
Kuarc frowned. “That’s Edin’s voice.”
“You’re right.” Zarifa rose to her feet. “I hadn’t spoken to him in ten years, so I didn’t recognize it.”
Kuarc turned to stare at Edin. “You knew about all of this, but you never said a word.” His eyes narrowed in sudden realization—and a growing, deadly rage. “It was you. It wasn’t some madman who killed Sevan—it was you all along.”
Edin’s mouth worked, his eyes darting from side to side as he visibly considered whether to lie. Until the truth exploded from him. “Yes! Because I should have been emperor! My blood is as royal as yours—and I’m not a naive fool!”
“So you spent years betraying my father, betraying me, even betraying Umar—playing all ends against the middle.” Kuarc shook his head, a bitter twist to his lips. “You even had me believing Zarifa was involved in Lodur’s murder.”
“It wasn’t hard,” Edin sneered. “As I said, you’re a fool. Like your father, like your uncle, like your bitch cousin. None of you deserved to rule!”
“That’s just too bad, because now I am emperor.” His gaze was cold and regal. “And my first official act will be to discover just what kind of treason you’ve been committing all these years.”
TEN
Rance walked onto the elegant marble balcony and stopped in his tracks to gape in mingled awe and pain.
Zarifa stood silhouetted by the setting sun. She wore an exquisite dark green velvet grown with a long train, the fabric intricately embroidered in gold and gems. Her red hair was piled on her head in a cascade of silken curls. The sunlight slanting over the palace grounds painted her exquisite face in gold.
She looked every inch the empress she no longer was.
Zarifa had abdicated the throne today at Kuarc’s coronation ceremony. Her last act as empress had been to award Rance the Order of the Lion, the crown’s highest honor in recognition of civilian heroism. The heavy gold medallion hung around his neck from a crimson ribbon, glinting against the black silk jacket he wore.
He felt like an idiot.
Being in the center of a media hurricane hadn’t helped his acute discomfort. Just hours after Umar’s death, Kuarc and Zarifa had given a joint press conference from the asteroid base. Together they’d laid out all the events of recent imperial history with merciless honesty, including Edin’s murder of Sevan and Lodur’s usurping the throne from his then-infant nephew.
Shock waves would still be blasting across the empire for years to come.
A week had passed since then. Zarifa had ordered the marines to stand down so that Kuarc and his men could land on Throneworld. Umar’s cronies might have kicked up a fuss about that, but they probably feared calling attention to their own dubious activities.
Now she’d brought Rance here, to this intimidating palace of hers. He was a free man in truth, his neck bare of the slave collar, his nanosystems under his full control again. Best yet, Kuarc had announced his intention to abolish slavery.
Rance had everything he’d worked for all these years. Yet he was afraid the one thing he really wanted was beyond his reach.
Why should a woman who had all this trade it in for the Freeworlds and life with a werewolf?
Zarifa looked around as he walked across the balcony toward her, his black boots ringing on the marble tiles. She turned to face him, leaning back against the carved balustrade. “You know, I always wondered why my father trusted Umar. I knew they’d served in the marines together, and Umar had supposedly saved his life once, but…” She shook her head.
They were back to that again. He was frankly getting sick of the subject, but he knew it bothered her still, so he was willing to play along. “Well, if Umar was blackmailing him—”
“I don’t think it was ever that overt. If Umar had ever actually come out and said, ‘Make me regent or else,’ my father would have had him arrested.” She turned to gaze across the rolling green gardens of the palace grounds. “But my father still didn’t completely trust him. According to what Edin said under Kuarc’s…questioning, Lodur was counting on Edin to protect me from Umar if something happened to him.”
Rance leaned a hip on the balustrade and curled his lip in disdain. “Edin was only interested in protecting himself.”
“Exactly. Yet still, my father didn’t completely trust him either, because he left me Sevan’s ring, to be handed over when I reached my majority on my twenty-fifth birthday. And it was the ring that broke Umar’s control.”
“I wondered how you did that.”
She stepped closer and looped an arm around his waist. “Apparently, my father realized that since Umar had used Kuarc’s mother’s nanosystem to control her, he might alter mine and use it the same way. So the minute I put the ring on, it injected my nanosystems with a routine that blocked Umar’s control.”
He smiled at the triumph in her voice. “And you were free.”
She gave him a dazzling smile. “Not quite. Now I’m free. Umar and Gerik are dead, Edin will stand trial for my father’s murder, and the Empire is Kuarc’s to run.”
An opening. Rance’s heart started pounding in irregular thumps, but he fought to keep the tension off his face. “So what are you going to do now?”
Zarifa looked up at him, uncertainty flaring in her beautiful eyes. “Mostly I want to get the hell out of the Empire. I’d never have anything like a normal life here. I’ve spent the past ten years as media fodder, and somehow I don’t think it’s going to stop just because I’m not empress anymore.”
To hell with tiptoeing around this, Rance thought, suddenly impatient. I’m just going to damn well ask. He caught her hands in his. They felt surprisingly cool, as if with nerves. “Come to the Freeworlds with me. I don’t know if you’d consider living with a werewolf a normal life, but…”
Violet eyes flew so wide, he could see his face reflected in them. “Are you sure? You’ve seen the way the media hound every move I m
ake. Even relocating to the Freeworlds may not stop them. And they’ve got a talent for making my life a living hell.”
He bared his teeth. “Oh, I can safely say they wouldn’t try that more than once.”
Zarifa laughed. “I don’t doubt it.” She sobered. “But it still wouldn’t be easy.”
He slid his arms around her waist and drew her closer. “When I was lying on the deck under Gerik’s boot with my nanosystem frozen, I knew you wouldn’t let them win. I knew you’d get us out of it. And I trusted you enough to wait until you made your move.” He brushed the pad of his thumb against her mouth. “That’s when I realized I love you.”
She caught her breath. As he watched, a slow, blinding smile spread over her face. “It took you that long? I fell in love with you when you believed me about Umar’s smear campaign to make me look like a drunk.”
He smiled as his heart picked up that hard beat again. “Will you marry me?”
“Sweet Lady,” she breathed, “yes!”
Her mouth tasted of champagne and strawberries. He groaned into her lips, instantly hard.
Rance swept her into his arms, kicking aside the velvet of her train as it tried to tangle his legs. Zarifa looped her arms around his neck as he carried her into the bedroom.
He looked breathtakingly handsome in his aristo black jacket and snug black trousers, a stark white cravat tied around his powerful throat. The Order of the Lion hung around his neck from a crimson ribbon that provided the one splash of color against all that monochrome starkness.
He lowered her to the thick red silk counterpane of her bed—the same bed she’d cried in so many nights for so many years. Straightening, he surveyed her with a frown.
Feeling suddenly uncertain, she frowned back. “What?”
“How the hell am I supposed to get you out of that dress?”
She laughed. “Come here, and I’ll show you.”
He grinned and lowered himself to her side. “Your wish is my command, mistress.”
Velvet whispered. Buttons yielded to impatient fingers with a gentle pop, corset strings sighed from their eyelets. His hands felt strong and warm on the bare skin of her thigh. His mouth met hers, licking, tasting, as she untied his cravat. His jacket dropped from broad, silk-clad shoulders.
He growled, the sound impatient. “Aristos wear too damn many clothes.”
Plucking at his buttons, she could only rumble her own growl of agreement.
Finally the edges of the shirt parted, revealing his broad chest, dusted in rich, curling hair. She smoothed her hands over the rise of his pectorals and listened to his groan as she thumbed his small, tight nipples.
Her corset yielded to his demanding fingers at last, spilling her breasts free for his mouth. She caught her breath as he bent to suckle in sweetly fierce tugs. “Rance…”
He rumbled something hot in reply, his fingers cupping and kneading with gentle skill. Her eyes drifted downward and found the massive ridge behind the fly of his trousers. She attacked the buttons with a greedy sound, hungry to touch him, taste him.
With every button, his cock pressed a bit more free, a long, rosy shaft, thickly veined and eager. She curled her fingers around his satin heat and groaned as he jolted in her hand.
Rance pulled away and hurriedly stripped his trousers down his thighs, pausing just long enough to drag off his boots before jerking his pants the rest of the way off.
He turned, magnificently naked, his cock thrusting from a thick nest at his groin. Zarifa caught her breath at the sight of him, tall and powerful, sculpted muscle lying in beautiful ridges along torso and thighs and brawny arms. He looked down at her, and his eyes seemed to catch flame.
Zarifa lay in creamy nudity atop the green velvet gown and red silk of the counterpane, her hair a crown of flame that matched the soft thatch between her legs. Her eyes looked fathomless as she gazed up at him, her soft lips parted. Her nipples peaked, rosy and lovely, on the full, soft mounds of her breasts.
“In all my life,” Rance said hoarsely, “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you. No woman, no mountain, no sunset, no nebula. Nothing as beautiful.”
Her violet eyes widened and blinked. She ducked her head, the gesture oddly shy. “I…” Her voice trailed off.
He’d rendered his bold empress speechless.
Of course, he had to kiss her again after that as he covered that strong, slim body with his. She kissed him back, her mouth just as eager and hungry as his own. When she curled her long legs around his waist, his head swam. He could feel her heart beating against his, hard and fast.
Violet eyes met his as he lifted his head. “I love you.” And the truth of that was stark in her exquisite gaze. A single tear spilled free to roll down her elegant cheek. “You gave me back my life.”
“No.” He brushed away the tear. “You’d have found a way to beat them even without me. That’s why I love you.”
She lifted her head and took his mouth with a warm, sweet hunger. They surged together, skin to skin, her breasts soft against his chest, his cock hard against her belly.
Rance began kissing his way down her body, lingering to taste the delicate hollow of her throat, then trailing gentle bites to the budding crowns of her breasts. She gasped as he paused to circle the tight peaks with his tongue and rake his teeth carefully across them. She tasted sweet, heady, impossibly delicious.
“Sweet Lady,” she moaned.
He started to smile—just as long, delicate fingers closed around his cock. His back arched in pleasure as she stroked and explored him.
“Let me taste you.” She cupped his balls in her hand, caressed him with a gentleness that stole his breath.
“Only if I get to taste you, too.”
She laughed, breathy and seductive. “You talked me into it.”
They rearranged themselves, him shifting until he was head down along her body. The scent of her sex hit him in a pure wave of intoxication, and he groaned as he lowered his head.
She was already deliciously wet. He shuddered in pleasure as he swirled his tongue through tender folds.
Then her hot mouth closed over him in a breath-stealing rush. He gasped at the laser-bright pleasure. And gave himself up to her.
Closing her mouth around the head of him was a pure, delicious pleasure all by itself. She loved the way he felt filling her mouth, loved the shudder and jump of his powerful body as he reacted to her touch.
And she adored every slow, tormenting lick he gave her in sweet retaliation. The pleasure