The Seer Page 4

  Jolar reached into his pocket and pulled out an ID scanner. "Come here."

  Arissa recoiled instinctively. "What's that for? You already have my scan."

  "Here's the first rule if you want to live, Arissa. You do what I tell you when I tell you,” he bit out. “Come here."

  She took a few reluctant steps closer, watching him warily.

  He held the scanner up near her eye and caught her chin before she could turn away. "Don't flinch. It's a simple ID scan. People do it everyday, several times a day. It doesn't hurt and no one is afraid of them."

  Arissa willed herself not to move as he flashed the red light in her eye.

  He glanced at the reading. He turned the scanner so she could see the display.

  She blinked. It was her face, her as she was now, not a little girl's face. No black stripe above her image reading 'deceased'.

  "Legan, Arissa?” she breathed. "What is this?"

  "That's your new name. Hope you like it, though doesn't much matter if you don't."

  "My new—?” The breath rushed out of her lungs. "I have an ID? Will it—Will that show on all the scanners?"

  "Oh, yes. System wide, absolutely authentic and official."

  An ID, a real one, a non-telepath one? The possibilities, the safety, the freedom of it made her dizzy.

  "You did that?" Arissa managed.

  "No, I called in every favor and debt owed me to make that happen. I just burned through every bit of influence I’ve built up in the last ten years – goodwill that was intended to land me Zartan’s seat on the Tellaran Council after I retire from the Fleet.” Jolar’s eyes were blue ice. “I expect to be well paid in return."

  "Oh." She wet her lips and glanced at the cot. A real ID in return for letting him have her? She couldn’t afford to refuse, it didn’t even occur to her to try. "You want—I mean, here or—?"

  He burst out laughing and Arissa's face went hot.

  "You couldn't frack me enough to pay for this!" Jolar sobered. "No, that’s not what I want from you. There's something on Sertar I have to do. Something important. Having a woman with me is actually a liability—unless she has a unique talent to bring to the table. Your talent."

  She searched his face. "You need a telepath."

  "Want one,” he corrected. “I don't need one. Which means you do as you're told or your best hope is that Doctor de’Sar gets her longed-for opportunity to study one of you. Are we clear?"

  Arissa swallowed. "Yes."

  He held up the scanner. "This is a solid ID—unless something happens to me. Make sure nothing happens to me. Still clear?"

  Her cheeks were burning. "Don't kill you in your sleep. Got it."

  His sense was as cold as his eyes now. "Don't misunderstand me. If I think for a moment you've betrayed me, I'll put that blaster bolt in your head myself."

  He was such a jumble of emotion she couldn’t sort it all but just the words hurt. She blinked away the sudden sting of tears. "Sorry. I was—I was joking."

  He locked gazes with her. "Don't joke like that again."

  She dropped her eyes.

  "All right," he said finally. "You're going to shower and change. I have clothes for you. They might not fit perfectly or be what you like, but put them on anyway. Fix yourself up as best you can in twenty minutes."

  Arissa frowned. "Why?"

  "Because that's how much time I'm giving you," he said impatiently, turning away.

  She pushed the curls out of her face. "Whatever you say, Commander.”

  His sudden anger hit her so hard she gasped.

  "Don't ever call me that again," he snarled. "Understand?"

  She shook her head. "I don't—I mean, I thought—well, isn't that what you are?"

  He gave her a narrow look. “Are you fracking with me? Or have you forgotten I know you’re a Seer?”

  Arissa seethed. “Are you expecting me to read your every thought? Because it doesn’t work like that. I told you. And if you want me to help you, you’re going to have to tell me what you need me to do.”

  He huffed a sigh. "Fine. Part of our cover story is I never rose above Lieutenant. I left the fleet five years ago when we moved to Aylor. Can you remember that? Because it’s time to go."

  She frowned. "We? Our cover story?"

  "Yes, we. I'm Jolar Legan." He nodded toward the open door of the cell. "Your husband."

  Five

  “Stop fidgeting,” Jolar hissed, his annoyance grating against her mind. “Damn it, what’s wrong with you?”

  Arissa gripped the arms of the seat, struggling not to give into panic. They had been on the transport for an agonizing half-hour already, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold herself together. “I just…” she said faintly. “I don’t like shuttles.”

  There was a pulse of dismay and then unexpectedly he softened. “Listen, just hang on, okay? We’ll be docking in a few minutes. There’s dozens of safety protocols the spaceport has to follow for a transport ship like this. This is safe.”

  “My parents’ shuttle was supposed to be safe,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Her stomach rolled, her face felt numb. Any moment she was going to bolt screaming for the door. Everyone onboard the shuttle would look. Jolar would be furious. Maybe angry enough to send her back to the cell. And then they’d—

  “Slow your breathing down. You’re hyperventilating.”

  “I can’t.” Her throat was closing. “The other people onboard—It’s too much. I can’t shut them out.”

  “All right.” He took her hand, his skin very warm. He leaned his head against hers to murmur in her ear. “Try this. Can you concentrate just on me?”

  She centered on him, so calm and confident beside her. He felt perfectly safe sitting here. She followed the pattern of his breathing, matching hers to his. Arissa felt her tense shoulders starting to fall.

  His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “That’s better.” His warm breath against the delicate skin of her ear made her shiver. “Just relax.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes. “Okay.”

  She felt a jolt of desire and his breath quickened against her ear.

  She met his eyes, blinking at him.

  His gaze was hot, hungry. He glanced at her mouth.

  Suddenly he jerked back and dropped her hand.

  Arissa directed her gaze straight ahead, still very aware of him beside her, the heat of his body, his still-quickened breath.

  “We’re docking,” he muttered, getting to his feet.

  The Queen’s Light’s pretty transport attendant hurried down the aisle to where he stood. She gave him a disapproving look. “Sir, for your safety, all passengers are requested to remain in their seats until the transport is fully docked.”

  He looked at her impatiently. “Even if the pilot’s too drunk to frack these transports are set for automatic link. I’m fine.”

  The attendant blinked. Her sense made it plain she wasn’t used men dismissing her so brusquely.

  A few of the passengers looked scandalized by his language and sharp tone but one of the men across the aisle snickered.

  She was supposed to be his wife. He was adamant that no one doubt they were married.

  What would his wife do?

  “Jolar,” Arissa said softly, reaching toward him but too shy to touch. “Maybe you should sit down.”

  His disbelieving stare was his only response.

  She shifted awkwardly, her cheeks warm under the gaze of the other passengers and the attendant.

  Abruptly his nostrils flared and he fell into the seat next to her. He sprawled with his long legs stuck out and every line of his posture echoed the prickles of his annoyance.

  Satisfied, the attendant went back to her place.

  “Women,” the man across the aisle said jovially to Jolar. “They keep us tethered pretty tight, don’t they?”

  Jolar’s gave the man a half-smile. “That’s the truth.” He gave her a narrow look. “Wouldn’t have it an
y other way, though.”

  Arissa turned toward the window as they made the final approach to the cruiser.

  The Queen’s Light looked huge but Arissa had no experience by which to judge this ship. The shuttle that brought her to the capital from Apovia was one her uncle had gotten her transport on. Little larger than the vessel she was on now, that one had been meant for cargo. Her uncle’s bribe had gotten her on and made sure she wasn’t scanned.

  She glanced uneasily at Jolar as they docked.

  Is he regretting bringing me?

  Arissa understood now what he meant when he said having a woman along would be a liability for him.

  The pretty, pert attendant’s eyes lingered on Jolar as they disembarked. He drew admiring eyes everywhere they’d been; Arissa was like a mud sparrow next to the iridescent beauty of a firehawk.

  The clothes he’d brought her, a long belted tunic and pants in a dull tan color, were new but did nothing to flatter her and the top bagged noticeably through the chest. Before she’d left Apovia her breasts had been the one thing that had drawn plenty of male attention—they seemed tiny now with how thin she’d become. The new brown slippers were a little too big and she felt clumsy and graceless walking in them.

  A porter offered directions but Jolar shifted his weight before the man finished speaking and nudged her toward the lifts.

  They got on with other passengers and briefly Arissa threw her focus at them. Most were impatient to get to their quarters, irritable as if all this luxury were not enough to satisfy. Only one, a young girl, possibly twelve or so, regarded the ship with the same wide-eyed awe Arissa felt.

  She followed Jolar off the lift and into an area of the cruiser that felt sparsely populated. Jolar stopped in front of one of the suites and, with a press of his palm to the reader, opened the door.

  "Lights," he said.

  Instantly the cabin was bathed in soft warm light. A large arched window filled most of the far wall and framed a breathtaking view of Tellar and two of its moons. The living area, ringed by cream colored semicircular couches made a cozy conversation area. To the left of the living area lay a small dining room with food station and drink bar.

  “We’re staying here?” Arissa asked.

  Surprise and annoyance bloomed in his sense. “Something wrong with it?”

  “Wrong? Gods, are you kidding?” she breathed. Her fingers trailed the smooth wall she went down the short hall to explore.

  The bedroom was done in dark, rich greens. Another viewport showing Tellar dominated the wall next to the wide bed. Through a doorway lay a small neat dressing room with a vanity table, mirrors, and valet-closets to keep all the clothes in it clean and ready for wearing. Jolar’s luggage had already been delivered and sat just inside the dressing room door. She didn’t have anything but the clothes she was wearing.

  Swirled in white and green Novician marble, the bathroom gleamed. A wide shower had showerheads on both sides and above. Folded towels waited stacked into warmer shelves.

  “What’s the matter?” Jolar asked when she returned to the living area.

  “Is there another bedroom?”

  “No,” he fairly growled. “Because we’re married. Married people sleep together Arissa. I’m sure you’re practiced enough at sharing a bed.”

  “Right. Yes, of course.”

  She looked out the viewport, at the plush carpet, at the wall.

  Anywhere but at him.

  He sighed. “Are you hungry? There were some selections ready in the food station so I put those out. I wasn’t sure what you might—”

  As soon as the mouthwatering smell reached her she was at the table and lifting the covers away to reveal the steaming contents.

  She attacked the first dish, not even bothering to use a fork. Savory and hot, with some kind of cooked dough in the gravy. Gods, when had she had tasted anything so good?

  She stood there, her fingers stinging with the heat, closing her eyes, scarcely tasting as she chewed. Her fingers were already dug into the second platter when his stunned sense filtered through her ravenous hunger.

  Jolar’s face was white and shocked.

  Mortified, Arissa dropped her gaze and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Sorry.” Fumbling she grabbed a napkin to clean the sauce from her fingers.

  “No, it’s—” He cleared his throat. “It’s all right. Go ahead and eat, Arissa.”

  Shaky and embarrassed she sat at the table, put a clean napkin on her lap and ducking her head, used the utensils to fill a plate for herself, her cheeks burning.

  He took a seat across from her at the table but took nothing for himself. She kept her head down while she ate.

  She wished he would stop watching her.

  She scraped a plate clean in minutes and she glanced longingly at the serving dishes.

  “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “Take all you want.”

  She tucked a curl behind her ear and filled her plate again.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled when he put a glass of ice water next to her. She took a couple swallows of the water. She finished another plate and only stopped because she couldn’t manage another bite.

  She put her hand to her stomach, shifting a little against the fullness.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She gave a quick embarrassed smile. “Just ate too much too fast. I haven’t—It’s been a long time since I’ve seen so much food.”

  “Do you want anything else?”

  “I do. I can’t right now.” It took an effort to meet his eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I should have gotten you something hours ago back at the spaceport.” His blue eyes were serious. “Listen, whenever you’re hungry—whenever—you tell me. You can eat whatever we have here any time. If we’re out, I’ll get you something and I’ll make sure you have money to buy food for yourself if I’m not with you. I won’t let you go hungry again. Okay?”

  A rush of tears blurred her vision. “Okay.”

  He searched her face. “I know you must be frightened, wondering why I’ve brought you here.”

  She gave a short laugh. “A full meal and a real bed to sleep in? No vermin, no feeling someone weighing if it’s worth it to rob me or rape me or kill me? You think this is frightening?”

  “Yes, actually I do.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I have a lot to tell you but it’s ship’s afternoon we’ve been up all night already. You look exhausted and I know I am. We should get a few hours sleep at least before we go over it.”

  Arissa’s heart sped up but she could catch no sense that he felt at all awkward about them sharing the bed. Nor did he show any reluctance to strip off his clothes once they were in the bedroom.

  Broad shouldered, Jolar seemed all warm golden skin and muscle. There was glimmer of blond hair over his chest and a darker line below his waist. On either side of his abdomen, the muscles of his groin created a vee before disappearing into his undershorts and her gaze dipped to follow the shape of him under that thin material.

  He already had the blankets thrown back, one knee on the mattress to get into bed when he noticed her standing awkwardly by the door.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” She found it very hard to look at him.

  And very hard not to.

  “I’m not going to try to frack you if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said sharply. He got in bed and pulled up the covers. She stayed where she was and he threw her an impatient look. “I need some sleep and so do you. Get in bed, Arissa.”

  She sensed he wouldn’t hurt her, would never force himself on her. That wasn’t the problem.

  “I don’t—” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have a nightgown.”

  “So?”

  Her face went hot. She couldn’t just take her clothes off in front of him.

  Could she?

  “Damn it,” Jolar muttered, then louder: “Li
ghts off!”

  The room went dark. Light reflecting from Tellar gave some illumination but barely enough for her to see the way to the bed.

  “There,” Jolar grumbled. “I’ll buy you a pile of nightgowns after I’ve had some sleep. Now come to bed.”

  Arissa crept forward. Feeling along the edge, she got to her side of the bed. She toed her slippers off, lifted the tunic over her head and folded it, placing it on the floor beside the bed. She undid the fastening on the trousers and felt along the floor to put them on the tunic. That would leave her with only her underwear and her halter.

  She slipped under the fresh, sweet smelling sheets. The bed was soft and cool as she settled the blankets over her. She curled up under the blankets, her heart hammering.

  She jumped when he rolled toward her.

  “Are you warm enough?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  He sighed. The blankets slid as he shifted again.

  She had never shared a bed with anyone and he warmed the bed just by being in it. The turmoil of his mind gradually slowed, calmed. It was soothing just to be so close to him.

  After a time his sense settled and smoothed into sleep.

  She wished she’d had the courage to take her clothes off in front of him.

  She closed her eyes and, after a moment, scooted a little closer.

  Six

  Arissa started awake and panic sent her heart racing at the sight of the dark, unfamiliar room. She cast about with her Seer’s senses and blue eyes flashed in her mind.

  Jolar.

  Feeling his presence in a room nearby, memory came rushing back. Arissa put her shaking hand over her face. She was in the bedroom of their suite on the Queen’s Light, not cowering in a filthy rooming house in Xan-Tellar waiting for TelSec to track her down.

  She stretched her awareness a little farther toward the living room, to Jolar, shyly touching the weight and heft of his mind, his pensiveness, his determination, drawing comfort from his shimmering depths.

  A flutter of thought came back at her.

  Probably wondering how long I’m going to sleep.

  She withdrew the contact and rubbed her eyes, wondering what time it was. They’d left Tellar’s orbit sometime when she was sleeping and the viewport showed nothing but distant stars and empty space now. He felt like he’d been awake for a while and the space next to her was cool to the touch.