Bayne Page 3

  Bayne had larger feet and the soft suede boots she chose drowned hers. Some artful reworking of the laces tightened them enough they didn’t slip when she walked. She smiled at her ingenuity and then rooted in the closet for a disguise.

  That came in the form of a hooded cloak. She’d no idea what he needed such a garment for and frankly didn’t care. All that mattered was that it would hide her face while she slipped off the spaceship and onto the station. She could lose it then and probably would, given that the heavy wool was imbued with the spice of his aftershave.

  Of course, Bayne had sealed the door but he knew nothing about her or what she could do. Imagining his surprise at finding her gone filled her with a savage pleasure as she pried the lock panel open. She touched two wires together and smirked when the door slid back. Didn’t see that coming, did you?

  Few spared her a second glance as she walked the corridors with a confidence she didn’t truly feel. She had no idea where she was going, but knew it was important to keep moving, even if her heart jumped into her mouth every time she came to a junction. She expected to run into Bayne and feared his reaction. What he would do to her…

  Malia came across an umbilical tube joining the ship and station together, and stopped. She’d done it. Well, she’d gotten this far. And yes, she was jumpy as hell and her legs were rubber, but she was here. She could escape, if she dared to step into the white tube that led to freedom.

  The thought of the endless space that stretched beyond walls surely too fragile to keep the cold vacuum at bay made her nauseous. What if it tore? How quickly would she die? Would it hurt? Swallowing hard, she pushed the thoughts away and focused on the far end of the tube. One step at a time.

  Metal plating covered the bottom of the tube and one side was strung with a rope handrail. This she gripped as she forced one foot in front of the other, trying not to imagine herself floating off into forever. Sheer determination to escape Bayne’s clutches kept her going. She would show him. She would.

  Hard walls replaced the thin skin of the tube, the white replaced by black and gray. The space station was as ugly as sin, but it was solid. Safe. Malia collapsed against a wall and panted out her terror. She shook like a leaf. But alongside the diminishing terror was the overwhelming realization that she’d done it.

  She laughed and pushed away from the wall. With no plan as to where she could go or what she could do, she wandered deeper into the station, propelled less by the need to escape and more by curiosity.

  ~*~

  Once his anger had run its course, Bayne headed back to his chambers. This time he would remain calm, no matter what accusations she threw at him. Perhaps he would explain something of why he was the man he was. Why it mattered, he was less sure.

  She had gotten to him, though he tried to deny it. Worse, he suspected that Grieves knew the effect she was having. He needed to settle things with Malia before their fallout disrupted the crew any further, before the rumors started.

  Only the door to his chambers was open.

  No, no, no! Where the hell had she gone? Bayne fisted his metal hand and slammed it into a wall. Then his anger drained, replaced by a cold wave of fear. The station: she had to have gone to the station. Of all the stupid things she could have done.

  Bayne drew his sword and ran to the umbilical.

  ~*~

  Malia was, in no doubt, completely and utterly lost. She turned yet another corner in the never-ending maze of corridors, only to find herself at a dead end. She heaved a sigh and pivoted on her heel.

  A figure blocked her exit. Her heart stammered. He stepped forward and she recognized him as Bayne’s captain. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or further panic. At least she wasn’t lost any more.

  “He send you after me?” she said, sneering. “Missing his pet?”

  The captain sauntered toward her. Oh God, she recognized that expression. The heat of her fury turned to the cold of fear. She reversed, but there were still three walls around her. There was nowhere to go. No escape this time.

  “You can’t,” she whispered.

  “No?” He made a show of looking around. “And who is going to stop me? I know how he thinks and he won’t want you once you’ve been sullied by another. You’re distracting him, and I will not allow it, wench.”

  “What?” She didn’t understand. “How am I distracting him? He doesn’t care about me.”

  “He should not.” The captain grabbed her upper arms and pinned her against the wall. She tried to keep the flinch from her face, but his widening smirk told her she’d failed. “But there is still something human in him, despite my best efforts.”

  A chill ran through her. “Your efforts? What have you done?”

  He laughed. “Enough. Despite your…agreement, Terranis will be destroyed. I will see to that.”

  How he would achieve that wasn’t going to be left to her imagination. If he forced himself on her, that would, effectively, null her arrangement with Bayne. She doubted he would make that distinction, if he knew she had been raped, but the captain would use it as leverage. And Terranis would suffer as a result.

  Malia closed her eyes as he moved one hand to her chest. She’d failed. After everything she’d gone through, all that she’d done, she’d failed. Tears built but she refused to let them fall, in case he thought she was weeping over what he did. She would bite her tongue before giving him that satisfaction.

  “Let her go.”

  Her eyelids flew open at Bayne’s voice. The captain froze and something ugly crossed his face. She saw his hand move toward his gun. She voiced a yell and shoulder-barged the captain. His shot went wide.

  Bayne’s expression was flat, but Malia recognized the burn of fury in his eyes. She was surprised by the vicious grin that split his face.

  “Is that the best you’ve got, Grieves? You’re slipping.”

  “You’re the one that’s slipping, my lord—you’ve let this insolent wench distract you from your duties. Terranis owes tribute, and she is not worth a pittance of it.”

  Malia saw Bayne’s jaw clench and steeled herself. Yet the glance he cast her was troubled, almost… apologetic? He had discovered her gone and come after her, expecting trouble given the sword he held in his hand. The captain, Grieves, got a look that was pure but tempered fury, yet he had a gun and surely outmatched Bayne?

  She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and considered the situation as rationally as she could. Grieves was bigger than her, but his attention was on Bayne. He’d all but forgotten her, whereas the Overlord hadn’t dismissed a damn thing. Even as she stared at him, his gaze dropped briefly. She followed his glance and found herself looking at the handle of a dagger. Looking back at Bayne, she moved her head in the merest of nods.

  “Are you challenging me for the position, Grieves? After all this time?” Bayne rotated his wrist lazily. The blade of the sword cut through the air with a sigh of silver sound. “I am what you made me, after all.”

  The cold grip was back, but Malia could not, would not, be distracted by the shaking of everything she knew. There would be time enough for that later. She edged along the wall, slipping out of Grieves’ peripheral vision. She forced her breathing to slow, forced herself not to panic and move too quickly. It all depended on her remaining calm—whatever that was.

  “Clearly not well enough, if you can allow this worthless slut to distract you.”

  Just words, designed to inflame Bayne and harm her. She pushed the anger aside and kept her eyes on the dagger hilt, trusting that Bayne would let her know when to strike. Everything that had happened between them ceased to matter. She knew he meant to keep his promise to Terranis and that was the most important thing. He had been prepared to risk his reputation with his crew rather than betray her.

  Malia bit her lip and thought she’d got him very wrong.

  “On that point, you’re wrong.” Bayne circled right. Malia aped him, keeping the captain between them. The exit out of the dead end ope
ned up; a second option for her should this not work. She gave him a pained smile. Oh, very wrong indeed.

  “Thing is,” he continued. “I’m not the one who’s been distracted when it mattered.” Swinging the sword, he lunged forward with a yell. “Now, Malia.”

  Her fingers curled around the handle and she pulled the dagger loose. She saw the gun aimed at Bayne’s head, caught the slight tightening of the captain’s finger, and struck wildly.

  A nanosecond too late.

  The sound of the blast ricocheted off the metal walls. She dropped to the floor, hands tight over her ears. Her right hand was wet. She lowered it and stared at the blood coating her palm. Fingers caught her wrist, making her scream. Bayne hauled her to her feet.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s over.”

  Her chest hurt from breathing so hard. She stared at him, then down to the groaning captain. An odd sense of detachment settled around her. “You didn’t kill him.”

  “Would you rather I had?”

  She honestly didn’t know. “He would have killed you.” Belatedly, she realized the shot had hit him—his artificial arm hung useless at his side, the steel blackened. “He was going to kill you.”

  “And you saved my life.” His voice was soft, touched with an awe that brought tears to her eyes. Why she chose now to cry she didn’t know, but once she started, the tears came fast and hot.

  “It’s okay,” Bayne said again, pulled her into a one-armed embrace. “I’ve got you.”

  “Why?”

  It came out as a pitiful whine, but she truly didn’t understand. Bayne smiled at her, properly, and his eyes radiated warmth. Her stomach flipped oddly and all the breath in her body fled when he cupped her cheek with his good hand. He thumbed the moisture dry, then lifted her chin.

  “Come on,” he ordered, his voice still quiet but his tone firm. “My guards will deal with Grieves. You and I need to talk.”

  Malia winced, then caught the expression on his face. Regret creased the corners of his eyes, which were filled with a mute apology and something else; something that made her heart pound. He wasn’t angry with her. Far from it. The shift bewildered her.

  “Just… talk?”

  His mouth twitched. “To start with,” he amended. “Though I would imagine anything further hinges rather largely on that discussion.”

  An olive branch, she realized. For a moment she stared at the floor. It was tempting to fling it back in his face, to push him away. It was no less than he deserved for his treatment of her before. But she was tired of fighting, tired of his blowing hot and cold and never knowing what she was going to get. It was why she’d run, but that had gotten her nowhere.

  “Yes, rather.” Despite that, she let him curve his right arm around her waist. It was at once proprietary and comforting, but she leaned in with a muted sigh.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “For saving me. You didn’t have to.”

  “I wanted to. And you’re welcome.”

  It was a start. Or at least she hoped it was.

  Five

  In truth, Bayne had expected more resistance from Malia. But as strong as she was, there had still had too much for her to deal with and, as she sagged against his side, he realized she was close to the breaking point. He held her tight and walked back to his chambers. He needed to get her somewhere quiet and safe, away from prying eyes and whispered rumors.

  He closed the door, shutting the rest of the ship out, then turned to her. Worry shimmered in her blue-green eyes. He frowned.

  “Malia…”

  “Does it hurt?” She touched the ruin of his arm then pulled back, staring at the blood on her hand. “Oh.”

  He grabbed her as she swayed and guided her to a low seat. “No,” he assured her. “It doesn’t. But it is not what I’m concerned about. Did you not think there might be dangers aboard the station?”

  “No more than there was here.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  He flinched. “You have no need to apologize. I, on the other hand—”

  “Yes.”

  “I know. Malia, I have no hope that you will forgive me. I was so determined to prove I was more than what you believed me to be.” He snorted a humorless laugh. “But I am how I was created to be—a heartless monster.”

  “Who cared enough to save me from Grieves?”

  “One good deed does not absolve a life of death and destruction.”

  She stared at her hands. He grabbed a cloth and cleaned the blood off her palm. She lifted her chin and gazed at him with large eyes. If only he could throw himself into their cool depths, let them wash away all the wrong of his life. But he could not, and it was unfair to imagine she could offer him redemption.

  “It’s a start,” she whispered. “And you could have destroyed Terranis, had you chosen to. Even after you… I…” Her cheeks colored. “What I mean is there was nothing holding you. Not really. It matters that you chose to keep your word, Bayne.”

  He scanned her face. Those wide eyes were fixed on his, her lips parted. Their lush plumpness tempted him, but he didn’t want to push her. Not now, and not ever. Pulling back before he caved in and kissed her, he cleared his throat.

  “I will still keep it,” he told her. “But not under obligation. I… cannot hold you to your promise, Malia. Not when I have treated it with such disregard. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted… You’re free. I make no further claim on you.”

  She blinked, her face paling. “But Terranis—”

  “Still has thirteen days. I made that oath and I will keep it, no matter how foolish Grieves believes it to be. He will no doubt have more conniptions over this, but I am beyond caring about his or anyone else’s opinions.”

  Malia bit her lip and looked down. “I… Are you sure? It seems a poor deal.”

  “Taking you was a poor deal, at least for you.” He gazed at her bowed head, wondering how he could possibly make things right between them. “I cannot express how truly sorry I am, Malia. You might not believe that, but I am. It will not happen again.”

  She lifted her chin and met his eyes. “I believe you,” she said, voice soft. “I’m not sure why, but I do. I think… I think you are a man of your word, if nothing else.”

  Bayne let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

  Her smile was shy. “I should be thanking you, given what you saved me from.” A troubled expression darkened her face. “What will happen to him now?”

  “He will be dealt with, have no concern about that.”

  “Can I ask you something? Would you please not kill him?”

  He frowned. “Why do you wish me to spare his life? He would have hurt you simply to get at me. He would try again, given the opportunity.”

  “Then you have to be the better man.” She reached and placed her hands over his good one. “I think you can do that, Bayne. It’s hard, because all I know is your reputation and… well, we won’t speak of that again, but there is something good in you.”

  “I’m not so sure. I have been the Overlord so long I don’t know how to be anything else. And then there is this.” Frustration rose as he motioned at his useless arm. “I… My behavior toward you may have been colored by my last experience on Terranis.”

  Her look was startled. “This happened on Terranis?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I?” She touched the remains of his jacket with tentative fingers.

  “I suppose. But why would you–”

  “The things at the station, the ones half mended? I taught myself, because no one else would.”

  So he had truly underestimated her. “You would make a good mechanic.”

  Malia blushed, a redder color than he’d seen on her face. She shot him another, wider smile, still shy but her eyes shone. A sharp sensation tugged at his gut. God, but she is beautiful.

  “Maybe,” she said, sliding his jacket off his shoulders. “Or maybe I fool myself. But I could try, if you would allow me to.”
>
  There was no need, not when there was the medical bay just down the corridor, but every need to bridge the schism between Malia and himself. So he smiled at her and closed his fingers on her hand.

  “I would like that.”

  ~ * ~

  Without the leather of his jacket dampening the noises, Malia could hear the grind of gears, the faint whine of machinery under stress. Despite the damage, the arm was a wonder. Her fingers itched to touch, to explore, to mend the broken sections and make it perfect once again.

  “It is incredible,” she murmured, all but stroking the cool metal. Her attention shifted to the empty socket and the damaged skin. “If I ignore this. Would you tell me what happened, or would you prefer not to talk about it?”

  Bayne’s shrug caused the thinner steel struts to bend and flow. She hadn’t paid that much attention to his arm the last time it had been on display, but now she could see just how intricate the construction was.

  “There is not much to tell, in truth,” he said. “I took a shuttle down instead of landing the ship. Something went wrong and we crashed. My arm was crushed by a fuel tank that happened to leak and then…” He closed his mouth and a muscle twitched in his jaw. The bleak expression told her more than words could ever have done.

  “You were burned.” She touched his scarred chest gently. “Oh, Bayne.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Not long enough that you aren’t still carrying the ghosts.” Malia took a deep breath. “The river that runs by the city flows slowly most of the year. Except sometimes, the rain gathers in the mountains and… and rushes down. No one in the water stands a chance – they’re swept down and over the edge. Into the sea.” She swallowed and looked at him. “I was four and I wanted my ball back. My mother… she should have left it.”

  She couldn’t continue. Warm fingers gripped hers. “I’m not the only one carrying ghosts.”

  “No.”

  “If you would rather I left my arm to the techs—”

  “No.” Malia forced a smile onto her face. It came easier when she looked at him. “I want to.”