Born of Legend

  Hated.

  Her gaze fell to the scars on his wrist that suggested he might even be psychotic like the rest of his family. The gods knew stability and dependability had never run in the veins of the Anatoles.

  A sane female would walk away now before it was too late.

  "Shara?"

  She blinked at her mother's concerned tone. "Sorry, Mama. I was merely thinking that you're right. As soon as he's healed, I'll see to it that he's sent away from here. It's not worth the risk. We can't afford a darkheart among us. Too many of us have suffered at their hands. I won't dredge up that past or ask anyone else to suffer his presence because of my feelings. You didn't raise me to be so selfish. I will see to it that he's gone."

  "Good girl. The Anatoles have never brought anything except heartbreak and turmoil to this universe. Rather than be content with their power and wealth, they have plotted and slaughtered their family and ours to extinction. Never forget that."

  "I won't." Yet as she left the room to wash up, there was something that she couldn't get out of her mind.

  Over the last two days, as she'd done more research into Jullien's past, she'd dug through thousands of media pictures that had been taken of him through the years.

  As a royal prince and tiziran for two empires, he'd been dogged by photographers and reporters from the moment of his birth. They had literally documented almost every failure and shortcoming he possessed with ruthless acrimony. He hadn't been joking about the spoofing epitaphs they'd maliciously applied to his name in an effort to publicly ridicule him--something the Anatoles had never allowed done to one of their own royals before. But because he was half human and overweight, it'd been open season on him.

  And what the Triosans had done to him didn't even bear thinking on. They'd made the Andarions seem benevolent saints in comparison.

  Yet what had stuck out in her mind as she'd scanned articles and photos was that never once, not in all the tens of thousands of candids and official state pictures, was anyone from the royal family ever touching Jullien. There were photos of their mother cradling Nykyrian as an infant on her lap or in her arms while a nurse held Jullien in a cold, plastic carrier.

  But none of him in his mother's arms. Or anyone else's.

  Even the official Triosan state family photograph showed his father seated with Jullien standing behind him and his hand on his father's throne. Never on his father's body. And none where his father actually touched Jullien, or even looked at him. For that matter, Jullien was never looking at his father, either.

  His gaze was always on the floor or on his hands. Or pointedly focused in the opposite direction of his family.

  All the rest of the pictures showed Jullien with at least a foot of space between him and any member of his family. Most of the time, they had their backs to him. And in every one, the soul deep agony in his eyes was gut-wrenching.

  How could no one see what was so painfully obvious and right in front of them?

  Or did no one care? Were they really that heartless and unfeeling that they'd continue to insult and degrade him in spite of his unmistakable torment and rejection?

  But then that was sadly the nature of the universe. Everyone was so wrapped up in their own concerns that it was hard sometimes to see that others had their own issues and pain. To remember that those who seemed to have it all, sometimes had nothing whatsoever.

  And come tomorrow, she was going to have to find it in her to be as callous as everyone else and shove him back out into the universe that wanted him dead.

  How can I?

  She had no choice. While she felt bad for the prince, she couldn't risk her family. They would always take precedence over everything else.

  Even her own bleeding heart.

  CHAPTER 6

  Jullien lay in the dark bedroom, listening to soft voices of Ushara's family as they chatted in the living room about her sister's ship and how they planned to pay for its repairs.

  "No, Paka. You can't take a loan for that. I'll figure something out. I have no idea what. But I'll come up something. I hear prostitution pays nicely these days."

  "Ana! You have four little girls to feed. Your husband lost his last shipment and his ship. You're still paying off his medical bills."

  "I know. But--"

  "I can pick up more runs," Davel offered.

  "Me, too," Dimitri said. Jullien had yet to meet that brother, but he knew his voice since he came by every night to check on his parents and sisters.

  "Davel, your wife is about to have your next son any minute. You need to be here. Not off, who knows where. And Dimitri, you're already obligated for your son's and daughter's ship. You can't afford more debt." Oxana sighed. "I can manage something."

  Still they argued about how to help her.

  Jullien couldn't fathom it. His family had only argued about how to cut each other's throats. Who to screw over next.

  And how hard.

  The door to his room opened.

  Ushara slid in quietly so as not to disturb him.

  "I'm awake," he whispered.

  "Did we wake you?"

  "No. I can't hear you," he lied, knowing it would embarrass her if she knew he could hear her family's private matter. While most Andarions had heightened hearing, his was even more sensitive than theirs. His pediatricians had speculated that it must stem from some defect of being a hybrid. As a child, he'd been forced to wear special dampeners to keep his eardrums from shattering over any sharp sound.

  On the run, it came in extra handy to be able to hear a fly squeaking from two clicks away.

  She turned on the table lamp, then gently placed her hand against his brow to test for a fever and check his eye. How sick was it that he looked forward to this each day? This one fleeting encounter with her in the evenings where he could pretend that someone cared about him, and it saddened him that it couldn't last. All too soon, he'd go back to his hovel and she'd be out of his life.

  Forever.

  Not wanting to think about it, he forced himself to remain stoic. "How was work?"

  She smiled kindly. "Fine. You feeling better?"

  He nodded as she pulled back his bandage to look at the knife wound. Unfortunately, that wasn't what he wanted her to inspect. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and touched the incredibly soft strand of her pale hair that hung forward.

  Startled, she looked up and caught his gaze.

  Jullien swallowed hard before he brushed his thumb against her lips, wishing he had the courage to kiss her. But he knew better. Besides, he was Andarion. It would be wrong to dishonor her in the home of parents after they'd been so kind to him. What he was doing already by touching her hair without having spousal or betrothal rights to her was wrong.

  She was a treasured daughter of their house and bloodline. An honorable widow with a half-grown son ...

  And so he dropped his hand and forced his gaze to the floor. "Forgive me, mu tara."

  "Ushara?" her mother called.

  "Coming." She straightened up and left.

  His body shaking from a need so strong it didn't bear thinking on, Jullien rolled over and clenched his eyes shut. But images of holding her tortured him. He might never have had a dream as a boy, but he had one now.

  It was pure Tophetic madness the priests of Andaria would tell him would risk his eternal soul. Yet he didn't care. He'd be willing to pay that fee to have her.

  Just once.

  He'd never had a female in his bed who loved him. Only those who "serviced" his needs. Most of the time, they'd barely concealed their disinterest and disgust for having to tolerate his hybrid touch. Yet before he died, he wanted to know what it felt like to have a female ravenous for him. One who hungered for him as much he ached for her.

  Gah, you're a sentimental idiot. You sound like a woman.

  And he was. He admitted it. It was a stupid dream, anyway. That was why he'd chucked them all away as a kid. No need in having them. All they did was torture him worse th
an the guards who'd been assigned to him in prison.

  The only thing you need to focus on is getting back to work before you get tossed out of your box for lack of payment.

  *

  "Did you know the darkheart fixed Oxana's ship?"

  Ushara looked up from her reports as her father entered her office. "Pardon?"

  "I just met with the tech rep to get an estimate on what the labor would cost now that her part finally came in. We opened it up and there was nothing wrong with the drive. Ti. Dyti. Delidun. In fact, it was upgraded and better than it's ever been. Looked brand spanking new."

  That was stunning. Oxana's drive system had been burned completely out on her last run through the Solaras System. They'd all been worried sick about the cost of it. "How do you know it was Jullien who repaired it?"

  "Who else has those skills and wouldn't bill us for them?"

  He had a point, still ... "Has he said anything about it to you?"

  Her father shook his head. "He hasn't said a word to any of us after he thanked us for taking care of him and left three weeks ago. Has he spoken to you?"

  "No. He's avoided me like a disease-carrying rodent."

  "Well, I maintain that no one else would have had the skill-set to do it. Gunnar's been stalling us for the part, saying he couldn't get it in, and doubling the cost on it, like a rat bastard. I was told yesterday that it'd finally come in, after a League embargo and tax hike. He had it jacked so high that Oxana was about ready to sell her youngest on the open market. For that matter, I was scheduled to take out a loan with Frax to cover it, later today."

  She cringed at the name of a notorious Tavali loaner who was best avoided at all costs. Most who took out loans with him ended up indentured for life, and it infuriated her that her family was being extorted like that. Especially from someone who was dependent on Trajen's good graces to stay in business. "Why didn't you come to me?"

  "You don't have the creds for it, either."

  "I'm still family."

  "Which is why I didn't want to trouble you. My job is to take care of my children, not burden them."

  She rolled her eyes at her father and his archaic principals. "Family helps each other."

  "Anyway," he said, changing the subject, "we met for the labor estimate an hour ago. When we opened her ship up, there was nothing on it to be repaired. The ship runs better now than when she first bought it. Come see for yourself."

  Ushara notified Zellen that she was taking her lunch break. Curious about the matter, she left her office and followed her father through the station, toward the north hangar where Oxana's freighter had been storage-docked since her father had hauled it in weeks ago.

  While the station was governed by the laws of the Gorturnum Nation, each of the hangar maintenance and repair crews was an independent company that had an individual owner or boss. Gunnar was their direct overseer, or Chief Pit, who rented the hangar from Trajen and contracted with each company owner to keep the Tavali ships flying and cargo moving in and out of the station. He also helped fence "liberated" League merch, as well as moving legit cargo, and set up auctions for it. But his main job was to inspect the ships and hangar to ensure all ran smoothly and according to Tavali Code.

  Last she'd heard, Jullien was working as one of Gunnar's base maintenance sweepers who ran and maintained their ground equipment and facility's systems. He was only cleared to clean and load ships if one of the other crews needed a hand.

  But it was possible his position had changed.

  Ushara had purposefully avoided talking to or about Jullien since he'd left her parents' home. It was a sensitive and sore topic for everyone, especially given the fact that she had yet to ask him to leave the base as she'd promised her family she would.

  More than a dozen times, she'd started to, then chickened out. She just couldn't bring herself to hurt him. Not after the way he'd been treated by everyone else.

  He had nowhere to go and she knew it. Not to mention, the small matter of a huge death sentence that hung over his head. It just didn't seem right to turn him out, knowing what waited for him on his own.

  And why should she make him leave? He didn't bother anyone. He kept to himself, like a phantom ghost.

  Case in point, as they went through the hangar in search of him, there was no sight or sound of his presence. While the other mechanics and engineers worked in boisterous teams or crews and chatted or obnoxiously played music, Jullien was forever solitary. A whisper of a breeze who clung to the shadows. He was only seen by others when he wanted to be found. Which was almost never.

  After a few minutes of futility, she pulled out her link and called up his work file.

  "Is he not on this shift rotation?" Her father stepped closer to look over her shoulder as she continued to read the schedule. "Is something wrong? Why are you frowning like that?"

  "It's just..." She held her link out for him to see it. "He requested a transfer to Sheila's crew."

  "Sheila?" His tone held shocked contempt. "Why would anyone want to work for that bitch?"

  Ushara couldn't imagine. Everyone hated the old surly Tavali. Most quit after a day or two spent under her blistering insults.

  No one had ever requested a turn on her crew. Most ran screaming out of the hangar whenever they were forced to work it.

  "Are you looking for Dagger, Admiral?"

  Ushara turned at the quiet, timid voice of a young woman who couldn't be more than twenty-two or twenty-three. Tiny and frail, she had short black hair and bright blue eyes. By her rank patch, she was a bait, a regular member of The Tavali. "We are. Do you know where he is?"

  "He's not in trouble, is he?"

  The concern in her voice sent a severe and unexpected wave of jealousy through Ushara. One that made her want to hurt the young woman. She hadn't felt such an urge in a really long time and it took her a moment to get a handle on her emotions. "No, he's not in trouble. Are you his woman?" Well that came out before she could stop it. And it was a lot sharper tone than she'd intended.

  Her father's eyes widened in shock.

  The girl blushed profusely. "No, ma'am. Nothing like that. I just don't want to see him in trouble for doing something so kind. I was about to be fired and I really needed this job to feed my daughter ... my husband owes a lot of money for his tithe. And everything I did made Sheila angry. She was always yelling at me and insulting me, giving me the worst assignments she had. Making me work late hours when I needed to be home. So Dagger switched crews with me to get her off my back. I don't know what I'd have done had he not taken it. It's so much better now. I can actually eat a meal and not throw it back up."

  Ushara smiled at her. "I'm glad you're better. Do you know where I can find him?"

  The girl glanced around before she leaned in to whisper. "Today's actually his day off. But he's been donating his after hours and off days to the Snitch Fund. You'll find him working on the Jolly Harlot, east quadrant. And speaking of, I better get back to work before Gunnar catches me slacking." She rushed away.

  Completely shocked, Ushara met her father's equally stunned expression. The Snitches had been the married couple who had founded their Nation aeons ago after their daughter Tavali and her crew had been wrongfully arrested and slaughtered by a corrupt government. They, and a group of other independent freighters had joined together to form a coalition to protect each other from those out to exploit and prey upon honest independent pilots and freighters who didn't want to work for corporations or governments.

  The Tavali had come a long way in the centuries since. But one thing remained the same.

  They would fight and die for one another. You messed with one Tavali, you messed with all Tavali.

  And the Snitch Fund was one of many programs they had to protect the families of their fallen, or those injured in battle. If someone had a ship they needed repaired and they couldn't afford the service or parts, they could apply for assistance and be added to a waiting list. Those with the skills and means then d
onated creds, labor, and parts as they saw fit to the fund. Or, in the case of punishment, they could be compelled to donate service or fees.

  But it was exceedingly rare for non Tavali to participate in the program.

  Ushara arched a brow at the expression on her father's face as they made their way through the hangar. "What's wrong, Paka? You look like you've swallowed your tongue."

  "No. Just eating a large bite of humble pie. And it's sticking in my craw as it goes down."

  She was tasting some of it herself as they finally found Jullien in a solitary corner, working on a really old freighter's cooling system.

  His hand still bandaged from the beating, he was forced to hold an e-tablet at an awkward angle to accommodate his injury so that he could work. A faint bruise also continued to darken the skin of his eye and cheek, and he favored one leg over the other.

  Even so, he was still incredibly sexy.

  All of a sudden, he dropped the tablet and lunged at the ship. "Careful, sprytan. If you don't--" His words broke off as steam poured out and covered him, scalding his arm. Ignoring the heat, he grabbed a smaller body and yanked it up, out of harm's way.

  It wasn't until that body was clear that she realized it was Vasili.

  His breathing ragged, Jullien searched Vas's body for harm. "You okay?"

  "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

  "It's all right. It's fine. Are you hurt, sprytan?"

  Terrified, Ushara ran forward. "Vas!"

  Jullien immediately put himself between them. Literally. He cradled Vas behind him with one arm so that she couldn't reach or even see him, at all. "It's not his fault."

  She tried to step around him.

  He refused to let her near her child. "He didn't do anything wrong. It's all my fault. Not his. Don't hurt him."

  Ushara paused as she saw the panic in Jullien's eyes and she realized that he actually thought she was going to harm her own son. "Jullien, it's all right. I just want to make sure he's okay."

  Warily, he lifted his scalded arm and allowed Vasili to pass under it to reach her.

  Vas approached her sheepishly. "Are you mad?"

  She narrowed her gaze at him. "What are you doing here?"

  Jullien moved to his toolbox and wrapped his forearm in a gel cloth. "He's been coming after school for help with math."

  "And after I finish it, Jullien's been teaching me some things about engines and systems." Biting his lip, Vas frowned at Jullien. "Did I hurt you?"