CHAPTER EXCERPT
Tai’ri rubbed the phantom ache in
his wrist. There was no scarring, the marks left from the once embedded
manacles of his months’ long imprisonment healed.
Physically healed.
“When a great evil has been done
to you, you can still choose to move forward,” Bdakhun Ibukay said.
The princess’ narrow face and
intent eyes reflected in the panoramic windows that gave the medical suite a
one hundred and eighty degree view of Naidekai city at night. Fliers whizzed
by; singles, doubles, and late night ground transports. Pedestrians traversed
air walks between buildings, the city transparent below their feet nearly four
hundred meters down.
Tai’ri turned. “I want jokdaht.” He met her gaze head on, aware
that a layer of his customary deference was forever burned away.
“Jokdaht would not be the wisest course,” a deep, cultured voice
said, its owner entering the suite through doors that shimmered open silently.
Vykhan, the Bdakhun’s Head of Security, glided forward, a gray cloak moving
around his body as if currents of air flowed underneath. Long black hair
streaked with feathery silver was confined in a tight braid. He watched Tai’ri
with calm, expressionless eyes. Not unfeeling, simply Silent.
Tai’ri had never met a warrior
who displayed more mastery of his emotions than Vykhan. One day he hoped to be
worthy of Adekhyun Numair’s presence,
but this was not that day—not until he achieved the same control. For now, he
shoved his feelings and impulses inside a sealed silver box in his mind.
Feelings and impulses urging him
to seek vengeance. Justice.
“Do you deny I have the right to
hunt, to take vengeance?”
Tai’ri stuffed down his flash of
anger, aborting his restless movements as emotions he always struggled to tame
roiled. Even before Vykhan, his mother had taught him to allow his fiery bursts
to flow through him. Over the years, he’d learned to contain himself enough
that he could mimic a quiet, diffident mannered male.
“There are more important
problems to resolve. You suffered.” Vykhan shrugged. “Suffering is life.”
“Vykhan,” Ibukay interrupted,
lips pressing together. She sighed. “Maybe we should give him some time.”
“Does the female have time?”
Ibukay winced. Vykhan never
argued. Logic, he would say, was its own argument.
“What female?” Tai’ri asked. He’d
been gone several months. He stiffened. “My sisters—my mother? Has something
happened?”
Vykhan slashed a hand through the
air. “Your family is well. Did you think I would not watch over them during
your absence?”
Tai’ri grimaced. “No. Apologies.”
The other male relented. “You
have been through difficulty, and you are sane. I sense no permanent Disquiet
in you. Some indulgence is allowed. If it were not for the circumstances, we
would not trouble you at this time.”
“I’m fit for duty, Vykhan.” He
scowled, then tried to smooth the expression.
Ibukay inhaled, then let the
breath out in a heavy sigh. She lifted her gaze to the ceiling, a certain sign
she was about to deliver bad news. “You know you weren’t the only inhabitant of
the pens.”
“Yeah, I know. I heard others.”
There had been other people, male
and female, Yadeshi and alien, in the pens that imprisoned them all, awaiting
sale to buyers on the dark market or worse. He’d infiltrated the traffickers’
pod after months of investigation and had gotten caught in the web.
Months to break out and send a
distress beacon, months of . . . rage rose in the back of his throat. He closed
his eyes and allowed words to flow in a chant.
A voice rose in time with his,
the chant clearing his mind and reclaiming his calm. He’d never be
Silent—didn’t have Vykhan’s calling for it, but the Adekhan had trained every person on his team in the basic precepts
and chants. Necessary in Tai’ri’s line of work, when going undercover often
meant becoming someone else. Which meant he must be able to clear his mind,
wipe it clean.
Tai’ri opened his eyes, Vykhan
and Ibukay falling silent once they saw his mind was present again. He nodded
to indicate he was ready to resume the conversation. Vykhan eyed him with no
condemnation, and the Bdakhun resumed
speaking.
“There were several females.
Human females,” she said. “Several of them are pregnant.”
Tai’ri stiffened, a hiss escaping
his teeth. His incisors ached briefly, but remained tucked away. “My sister
would offer them all care in her birthing center.” He made the offer on Bey’s
behalf, knowing she would honor it. The mission of their family was to
facilitate every female’s desired birth experience.
“Her center is the best in
Beysikai Province,” Ibukay said. “I thank you for the offer, Tai’ri. We will
communicate it to the females.” Now she hesitated, exchanging a glance with
Vykhan.
“How much do you recall of what
was done to you?” Vykhan asked.
Tai’ri controlled his body’s
physiological response. Faint perspiration, a tremble of adrenaline through his
limbs as his muscles tensed for battle. Ached for battle. He had to allow
himself to be rescued. There had been
no cleansing fight, no blood. Little honor.
“Wasn’t conscious all the time.”
Something had been done. The antiseptic
scent of a low tech medical bay assaulted his nostrils as he woke after fumes
released into his pen rendered him unconscious.
Ibukay sighed and took a seat on
the divan in the center of the room. Her shoulders slumped in an
uncharacteristic display of weariness. A Bdakhun,
youngest daughter of their Province ruler and trained to a level of poise and
control at all times. Something troubled her.
Tai’ri approached, crouching in
front of her. “What’s wrong, yadoana?
Don’t trouble yourself for me.”
He’d protected and obeyed this
female since she was a small girl and Vykhan first recruited him. She was as
dear to him as any of his blood sisters, though he’d never be familiar with her
in a way that would disrespect her rank over him. He couldn’t ignore her, or
any female’s, distress. Wasn’t made like that.
She looked up, a sheen glittering
in her eyes. Her cropped shoulder length hair was more tousled than usual,
something he hadn’t noticed until now, and her face was thinner.
Tai’ri’s brows drew together. He
glanced up at Vykhan. “Has she not been eating? Who’s been caring for her?”
Vykhan gave him a look, and
Tai’ri subsided.
“It’s not his fault,” she replied
hotly. “And you know what a nag he is. We’ve been looking for you for months.
We thought you were—” she stopped talking, composed herself and straightened
her back. “Tai’ri . . . they took your seed.”
The words made no sense. “What?”
“The times you told us you were
unconscious and awoke in a med bay,” Vykhan said, a flash of something akin to
pity in his eyes. Not quite pity, because Haeemah's Precepts wouldn't allow it.
Not when life was always to be celebrated. If one lived, there was hope. “That
must have been when they operated on you. Your genetic material was extracted
and used to impregnate at least one human woman. We don’t think more than one.
The others have undergone testing as well.”
Tai’ri stilled, staring at him as
if he was speaking an Earth language. Or hissing like one of the odd snake
warriors. “I don’t understand.”
She reached out and took his
hand, gaze soft with compassion. “You are the genetic father of an unborn
halfling, Tai’ri. The mother is one of the females who was imprisoned in a pen
near yours.”
Vykhan was at his side in a
flash. “Breathe.”
Tai’ri didn’t recall bending
over, gasping as a powerful clamp seized his insides. Vykhan’s chant slid
through his mind like water through open fingers. He caught them, held on as
the words settled into his gut.
Incandescent joy. Black, searing
grief.
Rage.
The chant crashed through his
mind, Vykhan initiating a mental link which he rarely did. Established during
training, it enabled their Adekhan to
guide them when mere words and demonstrations would not do. It only worked in
proximity.
When Tai’ri returned to himself,
he realized he was grasping Vykhan’s hand, crushing it under the strength of
his emotions. Vykhan said nothing, ignored what must have been searing pain as
bones creaked.
“You have a few choices to make,”
Ibukay said from several feet away. She must have moved, or Vykhan must have
moved her, when Tai’ri blanked. Her warriors were devoted to her, but each of
them was dangerous when not in control. Despite Haeemah’s Precepts of
non-violence, they were all trained to kill. Because sometimes death was
required to ensure peace and Silence.
“There is only one choice,”
Vykhan said.
“Vykhan.” Steel in her tone, a
warning.
“Does the female have a choice?”
Vykhan asked pointedly.
“Yes, yes she does. She does not
have to carry the child to full term.”
Vykhan stood, facing their Bdakhun. “She is already full term. In
human gestation she will give birth in four to six weeks.”
Tai’ri straightened, feeling like
an old warrior, but squared his shoulders and waited until the feeling of being
repeatedly punched in the stomach resided.
“Has she . . . has she asked for
an induction?” Technology had all but eradicated the need for such procedures
centuries ago. But considering his family’s generation’s long calling, he
understood more than most males about such things. “They’re so small at this
stage.” So small. His baby yadoana
had barely fit in the palm of his hand, half-formed, perfect limbs as fragile
as brittle stems. Eyes that never opened. First tears never shed. A voice never
raised in an angry cry.
She had been silent when she
slipped into the world, and silent when she slipped away again.
A feral growl rumbled in his
chest, but Tai’ri controlled himself immediately. There was no time for old
grief. No time for the old, aching guilt. Normally, he had better control than
this. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t the first time a mission had cost
him. He’d been tortured, beaten, enslaved . . . none of it had touched his
heart until now.
“Tell me about the female,” he
said. He focused. Hadn’t been able to save that child. He’d save this one, even
from its own mother if that’s what it took.
Ibukay spoke after a moment.
“She’s from Earth, a human. We don’t know the circumstances of her abduction
yet, she hasn’t been willing to go into detail and I—I don’t want to press her,
or any of the others until they are ready.”
“We need that intel,” Tai’ri
said. “We need to know how the traffickers are operating. They’ve changed
methodology again, that was how I made a mistake.”
“We will know in time. In the
immediate present, the mental health of the aliens is more important.
Especially while pregnant.” Tai’ri nodded, and she continued. “She’s young for
a human, the tests we ran show her to be around thirty to thirty-five Earth
years.”
Tai’ri cringed.
“I know,” Ibukay said. “She's
young, but I'm told that's adult age.”
“She has opted not to return to
Earth at this time,” Vykhan said. “We can place her in the shelter with the
other females, but as we know the identity of the genetic father of her child,
I thought you would wish to be informed so you can make more suitable
arrangements. Naturally.”
“Whatever he decides is the most
suitable arrangement, Vykhan,” Ibukay said, expression darkening. “You will not
bully him into doing what you think is right.”
Vykhan was unmoved. “I know what
this means to you, Tai'ri.”
He shook his head. “Not my
choice. It’s hers.”
“The human female is in no
condition to make these kinds of decisions.”
“Vykhan,” Ibukay growled.
“This is a second chance,” Vykhan
said, gaze unwavering.
Tai’ri rubbed his sore stomach,
the words another verbal knife. A chance to redeem himself for the pain he’d
caused in the past. A chance to replace the life lost.
“I won’t coerce her. But if she
keeps the child, they’ll have a home with me. If she wants to birth the child
and give it away, I will take my son or daughter. That’s my right, no matter
how they were conceived.”
Ibukay nodded. “That much we can
give you, even if she decides to induce birth now. The child is developed
enough that it would survive. But I don’t think that’s the choice she will
make. I’ve spoken with her some.”
“May I see her?”
“I already asked, and she agreed
to a meeting if you wished it.”
“You will have four months of
leave,” Vykhan said. “That will give you time to acclimate your female and
child to their new home. There are—”
A beep sounded, first on Vykhan’s
comm unit and then a split second later on Ibukay’s. The Bdakhun glanced at the incoming message and cursed. She whirled,
Vykhan at her heels.
The doors shimmered open, letting
in the blaring sound of the med bay alarm. Tai’ri knew that sound, knew it in
his bones. Someone was dying.
He ran after them, propelled by
instinct.
* * *
One look at Ibukay’s face and he
knew.
A human woman lay pale in a bed
surrounded by the normally silent tech and medics who, with calm urgency, tried
to stabilize her.
“You can’t be here,” someone told
him. Tai’ri snarled.
Ibukay glanced at the medic, who
subsided and then snapped, “Don’t get in the way,” muttering something under
her breath about ‘royals’.
Tai’ri gazed at the female on the
table. Tangled dark hair, her tawny brown skin too pale. And under the sheet, a
swollen belly.
“She’s seizing again.” Someone
cursed. “I don’t understand these vitals. Where are the downloads? I can’t do
my job without data!”
“Fetal tones dropping,” another
medic said in a monotone.
“We should have put her in a
tube. Why are we providing manual care?”
“You can’t tube a gravid alien,
newbie. Who authorized residents on this floor? Get out.”
“Order an emergency surgical
birth. And get me those downloads!”
Tai’ri stepped forward, not
thinking, not even feeling, propelled by a fierce need to do something after months of being able to do nothing. The marks on
his arms flared to life as he seized the female’s wrist.
“Oh shit,” someone said. “What
the fuck is he doing here? Wait, wait, what are you doing?”
His marks split, flaring to life.
He didn’t question it. Perhaps they recognized his blood in the child, nestled
inside this female and about to leave the world before he even had a chance to
hold this one in his arms. Not again. Never again.
“Well, fuck me, it’s stabilizing.
Blood pressure dropping back to its baseline.”
“She, you fish bait. We can’t call aliens ‘it’ anymore, remember
your sensitivity training?”
“I didn’t know the marks could do
that with an alien.”
“Oh, Goddess. Where have you
been? Why do you think . . .”
Tai’ri tuned their bickering out,
his grip on the female unbreakable. It could not be a bond, not quite, because
mate bonds required consent and intention. But perhaps the marks recognized the
need for healing and acted in response.
He held her wrist long after the
newly formed marks had slithered up her slender arms and settled into grayish
blue strokes onto her skin. Her skin lost the gray tinge—not a good color for
humans, he recalled—and her strained breathing and thrashing eased.
Her eyes opened once, dark and
fathomless, then closed.
“The baby?” he asked.
“Heart tones normal,” a medic
said. “You saved their lives. Congrats.”
“That’s the father,” someone
whispered in a hushed tone. “He initiated a bond.”
“Great. We can finally fill out
the damn forms then.”
Tai’ri let go of her finally,
stumbling back. Vykhan caught him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“Well done,” he murmured,
releasing him once Tai’ri was certain his knees would not collapse.
When she woke, they
would speak. But staring down at the bed, at the sleeping, vulnerable female,
he knew he could not coerce her into making the decision that was already made
in his heart.