Bayne Page 6
“Here.” A strong arm curved around her waist and she expelled a sharp breath of relief. “Can you try and get the shields back up? They’re under forty per cent and we don’t stand a chance at that level.”
“What happened? Shouldn’t the scanners have picked the field up?”
“Should have done.” His smile was grim. “Would have done had we not been sabotaged.”
Horror spread through her on a cold wave. “Grieves?”
“His sycophants. One of them died in the attempt, which I can’t be sorry about.” He let her go and faced her. Blood gathered at his temple. She touched the wound gently. “Leave that,” he told her. “Doesn’t matter in the greater scheme of things.”
Malia dropped her hand and went to the shield console. The steel was tarnished by soot and the display was dim. She knelt down and removed the panel from the underside, then glanced up to find Bryce watching her.
“I can do this,” she said. “You make sure your crew’s okay.”
He nodded and vanished into the haze of smoke. Her throat closed over. What if she never saw him again?
But she couldn’t think like that. She had to concentrate on the task at hand. She pulled out a handful of scorched wiring and began to strip the ruined sections out. Someone handed her a fresh reel and she spliced it into the system. However, even that repair wasn’t enough.
“Is there somewhere we can divert power from?” she called out as the ship shook at another impact. “Like, I don’t know, but how about Grieves’s cell?”
This gained her a bark of laughter from one of the crew. He grinned at her. “I can jettison one of the storage sections and divert from there.”
“Do it.” She watched the glow of the display shine brighter. The level indicator rose, inching up to over sixty percent then stopping. Better, but not enough. “Can you give me more?”
“Not much more,” he said with a shake of his head.
Another rock slammed into the ship. More sirens set off, accompanied by the monotone voice of the computer informing the crew to evacuate. Malia swore and moved to the communications console. She silenced the computer with a slice of her wire cutter, then rerouted the power from that station to the failing shields. The level went up to eighty-three.
“Belay that order,” she shouted over the din. “Hold your positions! We can still get through.”
Going to the console that controlled life support, she elbowed the fraught-looking crew member out of her way and opened the lines, venting smoke from the bridge. The air cleared slowly, though the refreshed oxygen meant a couple of smoldering fires flared higher. Silence fell as the ear-aching siren finally shut off. It didn’t last. A moment later, the sprinklers switched on and doused everything and everyone in cold foam.
Malia wiped it off her face and found herself looking at Bryce. He was okay, bar the bump on his head. He pushed a hand through his hair, scattering foam. She tried, she really did, but the relief and sudden ridiculousness of the situation hit her hard. She dissolved into helpless laughter.
“Glad someone can see the funny side,” Bryce said wryly. “My ship is wrecked.”
She waded through the ankle-deep white froth covering the deck and wrapped her arms around him. Despite her amusement, she was glad to see him, glad he was safe. His good arm curved around her waist and held her tight against his body.
“How bad is the damage? Is it repairable?”
“I don’t think so. I’m not sure we should even if it was.”
That made her pull back to look at him. “Why not?”
“Maybe it’s better this way. Bayne and his crew could perish in the wreckage of his ship, never more to bring ruin on the galaxy.”
“I’m not about to go down with your ship, Bryce.”
“No, but there is a second in the hold and that is big enough to take most of us.”
“Take us where?”
“We’re two days from Terranis. It seems as good a place as any to start over.”
Malia loosened her grip and stepped back. “You want to give everything up and settle on Terranis?” Her gaze shifted to his temple. “Just how hard did you hit your head?”
“What I want,” he said and captured her hands. “Is to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have a battered old man like me.”
As proposals went, it wasn’t the most romantic of settings, but Malia didn’t care. She squeezed his hands and nodded. “Of course I will.”
“Then Terranis?”
“Yes, but it can take only most of us? We can’t leave anyone behind, Bryce—they’ll die.”
He looked around. The crew gathered closer, watching him. He smiled. “Those that want to come to Terranis are welcome. There is a second ship, for those who would prefer to find their own way. The decision is yours.”
Several of the bridge crew stepped forward and declared loyalty to Bryce, including Giles, which didn’t surprise Malia in the slightest. Others declined to go to Terranis, though there seemed to be little bitterness behind that decision.
Giles folded his arms. “What about Grieves and his goons? I don’t want them with us and I doubt the others want them either.”
There was a murmur of discontent and Bryce looked down at Malia. She winced, but nodded. Grieves had made his decision already, as had those who had sided with him.
“They stay here,” Bryce said. “Though I’ll set the cells to unlock. Maybe they’ll be able to salvage the ship, maybe they won’t. But I won’t have it said I didn’t give them a fair chance.”
Malia hated the idea of leaving anyone, even Grieves, to die, but neither did she want him anywhere near her. The solution would have to do, and hopefully she could live with the guilt. “There’s nothing else for it, I suppose.”
“Signal the evacuation,” Bryce ordered. The shrill alarm changed note and the red lights shifted to amber. His hand gripped her arm. “Come on. We need to get going as well.”
~ * ~
Bayne closed the lid on his case and fastened it shut. He hadn’t packed much: just spare parts for his arm and the tools necessary to effect repairs. Everything else—all mementos of his life, of the lie he’d lived—could stay and burn. He had no use for them now.
A soft step behind him made him turn with a smile. Malia wrapped her arms around him, managing to sense his mood without him saying a word. He held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair, and let the bitter thoughts crowding his mind go.
“I guess I get to start over,” he said, again experiencing a mix of elation and sadness. Though quite what he felt sad about, he had no idea. “Do you think your people will let me?”
Malia pulled back and stared at him, her gaze thoughtful. “Perhaps if you looked less like Bayne…” She lifted a hand and pushed his hair back. “It would be easily done, I think.”
She stepped away then and went to the desk. When she returned, she had a pair of scissors in her hand. She arched a questioning eyebrow and he nodded. Sitting on one of the dining chairs, he handed himself over to her gentle ministrations.
Straggles of black hair littered the floor as she worked. Her fingers teased and pulled, then the scissors sliced through follicles with a sliver of sound. Occasionally he felt the cold press of their sides, the glide of a sharp edge. But all Malia cut was hair.
It took her perhaps half an hour, but finally she took a step back and admired her handiwork. She gave a nod of satisfaction. “Very handsome,” was her verdict.
He ran a hand through. It was much shorter, no more than two inches, and it felt odd. Getting to his feet, Bayne headed to the bathroom and checked his reflection. It looked like him but… not. It also revealed more of his burnt left side than he was accustomed to allowing.
A shudder wracked the ship—a timely reminder they did not have much time left.
“Come on,” he said as he left the room. “We need to go.”
She took his hand and they hurried through the corridors, down to the hangers where the two
smaller ships waited. They weren’t designed for long-haul space flight, but they would suffice. At least more than the dying ship they were housed in would. The crew had split roughly 40-60, with eighty choosing to go to Terranis. The rest would make their own way and Bayne wished them luck. He didn’t need it—he had Malia.
Giles was waiting at the ramp of the ship. He hugged Malia and ushered her aboard, before turning to Bayne.
“Everyone’s aboard, my lord.”
“Good, but that’s quite enough of that. Lord Bayne dies here and now.”
“Bryce,” Giles said, not surprising him with that knowledge.
“Yeah, apparently. Damned if I remember that, though.” A thought occurred to him. “If Grieves knew, then others must have. What happened to them?”
“I was recruited after you returned from Terranis. There was hardly anyone aboard, but no one really explained it.” Giles grimaced. “Grieves must have dumped the entire crew, possibly even killed them.”
“Then his fate is all that he deserves.”
“Indeed, my lord. Sorry. Bryce.” He hitched his shoulders. “Going to take some getting used to, I guess.”
Bayne clapped the man on the back and stepped onto the ship, followed by Giles. The ramp closed up behind them. “You’ve got three days.”
Ten
A cool breeze ruffled Malia’s hair. She closed her eyes and lifted her face, allowing the fresh air to buffet her, inhaling the smell of sea and salt. She’d missed this more than she’d realized. Though space had endless wonder, there was something… human about being on the ground, with the grass tickling her toes and the sun warm on her back.
Their arrival had caused a flurry of activity within the city, largely panic as the townsfolk gathered the tribute together. They had seemed both relieved and disappointed Bayne had not come to collect—as if the ragtag group of survivors wasn’t quite the same as being subjugated by the Overlord.
Bryce had gone unrecognized, which relieved Malia. She crossed the bridge to the station and pushed open the door. The inside had changed since their arrival—the consoles taken apart and consigned to storage bins, replaced by softer furnishings that turned the place into a home. Sheer fabric hung at the huge glass doors, billowing in the sea breeze let in by Bryce.
She crossed the room and slid her hands around his waist, pressing up against his back. His hands moved to cover hers. Leather wrapped his metal fingers, a new addition to the device she fitted a few days ago.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I should be asking you. How did it go?”
Malia shuddered and hid her face against the rough fabric of his tunic. He blended in better than she’d hoped, though he would always stand out as far as she was concerned. And really, everyone else could slide into the sea and be dashed against the rocks. He was all she needed.
“As bad as I expected, but better than I hoped.” She stroked her hands downward. “But I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t even want to think about him.”
Bryce took hold of her wrist and lifted her arm away from him, then turned to gather her into his arms. “What do you want to think about, then?”
“Nothing. I was rather hoping you’d distract me from thinking at all.”
A dangerous smile spread across his lips, making her heart pound faster. “Oh, I think I can do that.”
“I damn well hope so,” she murmured against his lips. “Might have to find someone else to keep me busy, otherwise.”
Bryce growled deep in his throat and pulled her into a fierce kiss. His left hand fisted the back of her dress, the fingers of his right threaded into her hair, holding her still as he plundered her mouth with his tongue.
She surrendered to his demand, as eager for him as he was for her. That hadn’t changed. If anything the passion between them blazed hotter. She wondered whether it was his leaving everything behind, being born over again as a man and not the monster Grieves had built him to be. As if it could be anything else.
He bore her to the floor, the soft carpet rubbing at her exposed skin as he shifted his body over hers. She shivered at the contrast between the cool air and his hot lips. His kisses trailed down her neck and to one breast, then the other. His teeth nipped at the sensitive nubs of her nipples, making her arch and clutch at his shoulders.
“Bryce.”
She whimpered as he moved down, head settling between her trembling legs. Two weeks ago on this very spot, she had knelt and given herself to him without thought, hoping only to keep him from destroying the only home she’d known. Now she gave herself more than willingly, taking everything that he sought to give her, making the place she’d once used as her haven into their home. Their haven. Their place in the universe.
His tongue found the knot of nerves above her sex. Malia cried out, hands searching for purchase, something solid with which to ground herself. Bryce just pushed her thighs wider and took her higher. Hot wet tongue, cool firm fingers, driving her wild and making her come apart. She shattered in the sure knowledge that he would catch her fall.
And he did; moving upward to cover her body, gathering her into his arms as his mouth sought hers. She tasted her own musk and the sweet burn of brandy on his tongue and sucked at it, pulling him in deeper. He let her, sinking past muscles that were still in spasm from her climax. She dropped her head back on a groan.
“Malia,” he purred, voice low and roughened with passion. “My Malia.”
“Always.” She curved her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his thighs, possessing him as much as he did her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He pushed up onto one elbow and grinned down at her. “You’re the one thing I did right, and I want you so much it hurts.”
She smiled. “You have me, Bryce. I’m yours completely.”
“No, not completely.” He traced her bottom lip, a faintly regretful expression on his face. She felt her heart clench. What did he mean? Of course she was his! Who else could possibly claim her? “But you could be. All you need to say is one word.”
“Which is?”
“Yes.”
Malia frowned at him. “And what is the question?”
“Will you marry me?”
Shock bloomed through her on waves of hot and cold. He was insane to propose to her, never mind after a mere seventeen days. She was crazier if she considered it, really. Not that she needed to.
“Hell, yes.”
Bryce laughed and hugged her. She closed her eyes at his passionate kiss. They had a way to go and she knew there would be hard times as well as good, but for now she was content to let him love her and to love him in return.
The future could wait.
About The Author
Misa Buckley grew up watching Doctor Who and Star Trek and reading fantasies from Anne McCaffrey and David Eddings. So when she started writing NaNoWriMo in 2007, it was sci fi that she wrote. She found writing a much-needed haven from the crazy of raising five children and a Land Rover-obsessed husband.
It took her a few years to take the step from writing to submitting, but her first novella was published in July 2011. Now contracted with Champagne Books, she can be found on Twitter (@MisaBuckley) or at her website (www.misabuckley.com)
Visit our website for our growing catalogue of quality books.
www.champagnebooks.com
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Information
Other Books By Misa Buckley
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
About The Author
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