He surprised her by lowering his lips to hers when he finished unbraiding her hair, his fingers brushing the back of her neck, eliciting more shivers. He did not usually initiate kisses, even though he often went along with her when she did, and she thought to ask what he was doing and why. But when she opened her mouth, it was only to return his kiss, to run her tongue along his lips, to tease them open, to taste him fully. And to want him fully. The familiar ache in her soul blossomed, matching the more physical one growing within her body.
“Leonidas,” she whispered against his lips, thinking to say they should stop, that this would only leave her frustrated, but she couldn’t get the words out. She didn’t want to stop. She slid her hands under his T-shirt and over the taut flesh of his abdomen, thoughts of following those contours with her mouth coming to mind.
He leaned her back onto the bed, his fingers splayed on her back to hold her as he guided her down.
“Leonidas?” she asked. “What are we—uhm?” She didn’t protest being laid back on the bed, as all sorts of delightful possibilities filled her mind, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up, nor did she want to ask for… too much.
“I’m hoping to preclude the need for you to spend your money on toys,” he said, lowering himself to an elbow beside her, his broad shoulders and torso hovering close enough over her chest that she could feel the heat of his body.
She opened her mouth, intending to protest the idea of him needing to do this, even if she didn’t want to protest anything, but he untucked her shirt, his fingernails brushing the sensitive skin of her abdomen, and her breath and her words caught in her throat. Her body would never forgive her if she pushed him away.
“Money should be spent on combat armor.” He smiled, his eyes warm, then brought his mouth down for a lingering kiss. “Perhaps on chocolate.”
“Definitely on chocolate,” she whispered, pushing her fingers through his hair and pulling him down for another kiss—and whatever else he was willing to offer.
Chapter 20
Alisa woke up to the beeping of the alarm on her comm unit. She reached toward the desk, where it usually rested, but it wasn’t coming from there. And that wasn’t her desk.
She was in Leonidas’s bed, the lights dimmed, blankets covering her, her boots and her folded trousers on the chair, the comm unit bleeping from a pocket. She smiled at the memory of the items coming off, even if she was disappointed that he wasn’t in the cabin. He wouldn’t risk falling asleep with her again; she knew that. But she would have loved to reach over and snuggle with him, to thank him for what had definitely been more pleasurable than using items from catalogs. Her smile grew a little wicked as Mica’s jokes about enhanced tongues came to mind. She was fairly certain that only referred to taste buds, but he’d done quite an admirable job, considering he couldn’t have been that excited himself, and considering whatever memories he had of such actions had been twenty years old. She couldn’t deny that she had been excited. And sated. Even if she couldn’t help but feel a hint of frustration, more that she couldn’t return the favor than out of any disappointment that more organs hadn’t been involved. She would happily climb into bed with him every night for that, but surely it would become a chore for him, and that was the last thing she wanted.
With mixed feelings, she climbed out of bed and dug out the comm. Earlier, worried she would fall asleep with her head cradled in her arms at the mess table, she had set the alarm to go off twenty minutes before they arrived back in Laikagrad. Per Leonidas’s request, she would head to the junkyard. It seemed as good a place as any to drop off their guests. By the time Hawk and his men arranged to be picked up by their colleagues, the Star Nomad would be on its way off the planet. Where to, she didn’t yet know.
Alisa pulled on her trousers and boots, promising herself a languorous sanibox visit as soon as the Nomad made it out of orbit safely, and headed for NavCom. She combed her fingers through her hair, rebraiding it as she walked, her cheeks warming at the memory of Leonidas unfastening it—and everything else.
Mica was in the pilot’s seat when Alisa walked in and waved without getting up. “Alejandro was looking for you a while ago.”
“Oh?” Alisa asked, glad he hadn’t put much effort into looking.
“I said I’d find you, so I went to your cabin. You weren’t there, but there were unfamiliar noises, along with cries of ‘Leo, Leo!’ coming out of someone else’s cabin.” Mica lifted her eyebrows and smirked.
“Huh,” Alisa said, refusing to smirk back or to share any details, though her cheeks were growing warm again. She leaned past Mica to plug in the coordinates for the junkyard.
“I didn’t think he liked being called that,” Mica said.
“We agreed that it was a suitable nickname in select circumstances.”
“I’ll bet. We’ve got a few minutes.” Mica waved toward the view screen, which displayed the beginning of the city’s extensive suburbs. “You may want to talk to Alejandro sooner rather than later.”
A twinge of worry ran through Alisa’s stomach. “Is something wrong?”
“Better go see.”
“I think you know something I don’t know.”
“Many things.”
Alisa snorted and turned toward the corridor.
“Alisa?” Mica said quietly.
“Yes?” Alisa paused with her hand on the jamb.
“I’m sorry I was… unwilling to risk detonating the bomb. Looking back on that makes me feel ashamed, but—” Mica shrugged, “—I’d do the same thing again. I want to live.”
“A lot of people would prioritize that.” Alisa returned the shrug. “It takes a special quality to be willing to risk your life for people you don’t know.”
“Special? I think the correct word is suicidal.”
“Perhaps.” Alisa made a vague salute and headed to sickbay.
When she turned into it, she almost bumped into a meaty cyborg arm, the elbow sticking out into the hatchway as Leonidas stood against the bulkhead. She squeezed his biceps, smiling up at him before paying attention to the room. He returned that smile, a hint of self-satisfaction in the gesture, and nodded toward the exam table.
Durant was on it, as usual, but Alisa nearly fell over when she saw him sitting up and looking at her. His gaze shifted away when she looked back at him. Yeah, he better have trouble meeting her eyes after he’d kidnapped her daughter.
Alejandro stood at Durant’s side, humming as he read a display on his netdisc. Stanislav was awake, too, sitting in a chair in the corner, both hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee.
“Captain,” Alejandro said, “I figured out a way to remove the headbands from the Starseers without hurting them further.” He glanced at Leonidas, who winced, no doubt remembering the man who had dropped—and maybe died?—when he’d yanked the first device free.
“That’s good. I’m sure Yumi was pleased to get her sister back, and I’m sure her people want to collect the rest of the Starseers, return to their temple, and take it back.” Alisa looked at Durant, far more interested in what was in his head.
“I had to have Stanislav help in examining the devices,” Alejandro went on. “They’re an interesting blend of technology and Starseer quirk.”
“Quirk?” Stanislav asked mildly, stifling a yawn. He still looked tired and haggard, reminding Alisa that not much time had passed and she needed more sleep as soon as she could find it. “We call it sahi. The process of using our kinetic abilities and the energy inherent in the universe to make useful tools.”
“Quirk,” Alejandro repeated. “And not a fun quirk. Those headbands were parasitic in the way they clamped on.”
“Parasitic?” Stanislav protested. “Surely not. They had to be self-adhering to serve their purpose, and there had to be a neural interface. They weren’t meant to be yanked out.” His expression grew aggrieved.
Alejandro gave him an exasperated look.
“You’re awfully offended by his descriptions
,” Alisa said. “Did you design them, or something?”
“I did,” Stanislav said.
Alisa hadn’t expected that. “For mind control purposes?” she demanded.
“Indeed not. They were made to enhance focus and act as a training aid. It wouldn’t have occurred to me that Tymoteusz could pervert them so, but he is a talented engineer.”
“And bomb builder,” Alisa muttered, not sure whether to believe Stanislav. A training aid. Please. A training aid shouldn’t kill someone if it was removed hastily.
“Does your own engineer not make explosives? Knowledge, once acquired, can be used in many ways, for good and evil.”
Alejandro’s mouth dropped open. “You quote the Xerikesh?”
Stanislav inclined his head. “They are my holy scriptures too.”
“Great, you two can go on a religious retreat together. Would anyone like to introduce me to Abelardus’s brother?” Alisa waved to Durant. “He has the look of a man who’s been sleeping a long time and is eager to blurt secrets. Such as where he sent my daughter off to.”
Durant looked at Alejandro, puzzlement in his eyes. Or maybe vacantness. Being in that coma for so long hadn’t damaged his ability to speak, had it? Or his memories?
“He’ll take some time to recover,” Alejandro said. “Unlike certain cyborgs who pop out of comas and immediately leap into battle.”
“It wasn’t immediate,” Leonidas murmured.
“No, you had a few minutes to be crabby with me first.”
“You had taken my underwear.”
“Clearly justifying crabbiness.”
“I thought so.”
Stanislav smiled into his coffee mug as he took a sip. Alisa’s first thought was that he had found the exchange amusing, but then she remembered what she had seen on the camera playback, that he had bent to touch Leonidas’s helmet before walking out of the Nomad with the staff.
“Did you do something to Leonidas?” she asked him.
“Me?” Stanislav lowered his mug.
“Yeah, you. If you helped him, tell me. I’ll put an Andromeda Android sticker on your chest.”
Stanislav touched his chest and looked down at his robe.
“In my home, that was like a medal. Never mind.”
“It would not be appropriate,” Stanislav said, “to take credit for a meager attempt to render assistance which may or may not have made a difference in the outcome.”
How could she possibly have a father who was so oddly proper? Or was that properly odd?
He’s all kinds of odd, Abelardus spoke into her thoughts.
You’re one to talk. Where are you?
Down in the cargo hold, talking to my people. Yumi is here, offering substances to ease their discomfort.
They didn’t get enough of the purple powder?
I don’t believe they remember that. They do remember fighting against Tymoteusz and the handful of chasadski with him. They were overmatched, even though they outnumbered him. Most of our people were stranded in the jungle. We need to pick them up and take them back to the temple so they can retrieve it and repair it.
We’ll let our refugees off in Laikagrad, and they can rent a ship and get their own temple. I’ve done enough for the Starseers. Not to mention that sticking around on Arkadius would not be good for her health. And I have my own mission.
Hm, perhaps you’re right. Going after the staff needs to be our priority.
Alisa frowned. That was not the mission she had in mind.
Some of our people may wish to help, Abelardus continued. Those who were left to guard the temple to ensure intruders couldn’t foil the chasadski plans are bitter that they were used so. Though it is humbling, they are relieved they weren’t successful and that your team thwarted Tymoteusz’s plans.
I’m relieved too.
Tymoteusz, however, may hold a grudge.
What’s new?
He will be difficult to beat when we meet him again.
When. Alisa had no interest in going off to find Tymoteusz again, not until she found Jelena, and with Durant awake, she hoped that would finally happen.
In addition to having powers of its own and a strong affinity for earth, Abelardus continued, the Staff of Lore enhances and focuses a person’s natural powers, like Stan the Odd Man’s beads, but to a much greater extent.
Have you returned his beads yet? He might not appreciate you secretly taking them.
Ostberg took them, Abelardus said.
You’re the one who ran around the temple rubbing them.
I assure you, I only rub my beads when it’s appropriate.
Lovely.
They’ve been returned, yes. He knows I used them. Ostberg informed him of it when he was sharing the adventures of his exploits during the battle. And how much more useful he could have been if he’d had a thrust bike to ride around on. He thought the battle could have been greatly improved if there had been aerial staff fighting.
“I remember,” Durant rasped, the words coming out slowly, as if he struggled to recall how to speak. “They found us. Even though we tried… to protect the school. We thought… they wouldn’t dare attack us openly. Risk war… with our people. But they wanted…”
“Prince Thorian,” Leonidas said, speaking for the first time.
“Prince Thorian,” Durant agreed. “A very sad boy. But they saw… one of their leaders claimed to see the future.” He shook his head slowly. “Never heard… of clairvoyant Starseers.”
Stanislav frowned into his mug but did not comment.
“Where did you send the children?” Alisa asked, leaning forward. She didn’t care an asteroid’s richest vein about Starseer powers right now. She just wanted to know where Jelena was.
“Children?” Durant squinted and looked upward, as if trying to dredge his memory.
Alisa wanted to throttle him. Maybe some drug of Yumi’s would help him remember more quickly.
Stanislav’s head rotated to the side, and he gazed at Durant.
“His memories should return in time,” Alejandro said. “Just let him rest for a couple weeks.”
“Weeks? I need a course to plot in after we drop off our guests,” Alisa said stubbornly.
“Don’t we need to stop and gather supplies?”
“Yes, but we’re not doing it here. Just because we’re returning Hawk and his buddies doesn’t mean the army will stop hunting for us.”
Sepiron Station. The words floated into her mind. It wasn’t Abelardus’s familiar voice. Stanislav met her eyes from across the room. Sepiron Station in the Kir Asteroid Belt.
I haven’t heard of it, Alisa thought.
It belongs to our people. We don’t publicize its existence.
It’s where they sent the children?
According to what Durant believes, yes. His memories are fuzzy and may not be reliable.
Does your boss Tym know?
Stanislav’s lips thinned. He’s not my boss. He’s my brother, and an unwelcome one at that.
That explains why you were happily working with him then.
Stanislav winced and looked away.
Alisa growled and stuck her hands in her pockets. If he was truly telling her where the children had been taken, she shouldn’t give him a hard time, but what if he was lying? What if everything he’d said since coming aboard had been a lie? What if this Sepiron Station was a dead end? Or worse, a trap?
He doesn’t know, Stanislav thought, unless he’s learned since we parted ways. You may want to make sure you get there first. He fears the prince. He won’t admit it, but whatever he thinks he’s seeing in his visions haunts him. I thought he just wanted to ensure the prince did not get the Staff of Lore, but now I believe it’s even more than that. He may kill the boy in his youth to prevent what he may become.
And what’s that? Alisa didn’t believe in clairvoyance and thought Tymoteusz was starting to sound mad, but she couldn’t help but be curious.
He didn’t confide the details of his v
isions to me.
Of course not.
Alisa sighed and leaned against Leonidas.
I did not want to intrude in your thoughts earlier and say so, Stanislav added, but I am pleased to learn that you have a daughter. I hope to meet her one day.
She quailed at the idea of someone else wanting to intrude upon her daughter’s life. I want to collect her and take her far away from the Starseers. All of them.
She will need a proper teacher if she is to—
Nobody’s going to breed her or try to turn her into some powerful Starseer to use for their own purposes, damn it.
Stanislav drew back, appearing startled by her vehemence. As if he didn’t have some selfish reason for wanting Jelena. Everyone else did.
I merely meant that she must learn so she won’t be a danger to herself and others. And I am interested in her because she is your daughter, and you are mine. I would like to know her. I would like to know both of you.
Uh huh. Why don’t I believe you?
Stanislav smiled sadly. Life has taught you to mistrust easily.
Starseers breaking onto my ship to steal things has taught me to mistrust easily.
He dropped his head, not arguing further.
“Captain?” Mica said over the comm. “Your junkyard is in sight.”
“I’m coming,” Alisa mumbled, stepping out into the corridor. Even though she worried Stanislav was lying, that wouldn’t keep her from going to find this supposed station. Drop off the passengers, find some supplies, escape any irritated Alliance ships that spotted her, and take off into space again. That was the plan. “Tell our passengers that they better pack up. They’re getting off at this stop. All of them.”
Alisa must have looked tired or worried, because Leonidas followed her into the corridor and touched her shoulder, offering support. She met his eyes. Dropping off the passengers also meant dropping off the person who could fix his problem. And maybe never seeing him again. Unless they arranged to kidnap him once more.
“We’ll find another way,” he said quietly, as if he were one of the Starseers, reading her mind. Maybe her thoughts were obvious.