Born of Fire Read online

  "Nykyrian forged everything I needed. He used his League contacts to give me a whole new identity."

  "Ah. So what happened that you left it all behind?"

  He dropped her hair. "I was found out."

  "By?"

  "It's not important."

  And though she longed for an answer, the note in his voice told her that he was through confiding in her. He'd exceeded his word count.

  She started to point out that his tongue had yet to explode, but she thought better of it.

  Besides, he would just come up with another smart-ass retort.

  Even though it was probably more than he'd ever told anyone, it still left her feeling on the outside of him. She wondered what it would take to breach his defenses, to make him trust again.

  But then, trusting her would probably be the worst thing he could ever do.

  "Now that I've dumped my sordid past on you, I want you to answer a question."

  She lifted her brows. "Okay."

  "How did the daughter of a fifth rate smuggler end up as a trained seax? I thought seax's followed a strict bloodline."

  "They do. My uncle on my mother's side was a seax and he marked me for training when I was just a toddler."

  "Why not Caillen?"

  She stopped just short of confiding a secret not even Caillen knew about his birth. Even though Syn had told her so much about himself, she couldn't bring herself to tell him that Caillen was a foundling they'd adopted. Her brother had no memory of it and to their family it had never mattered that he wasn't theirs by blood.

  Except for the matter of seax training.

  So she told him that alternate truth. "He didn't think Caillen had a warrior's spirit."

  He laughed. "No, I guess he doesn't. He is a bit of a fly-by-the-crotch kind of pilot."

  She joined his laughter. "He is indeed. I swear I should have gelded him when he hit puberty. Gah, he's been unbearable since the moment he discovered girls were good for something other than throwing rocks at."

  "Darling's pet name for him is manwhore."

  "So is ours."

  He started to reach out for her again, but something made him pull his hand back. "So what made you decide to be a tracer?"

  Shahara thought back to her childhood and sighed. "I think I did it in part to spite my father. He always hated tracers. Said they were too full of themselves for his tastes. And too, out of all the occupations open for me at the time of his death, it not only allowed me to uphold my oath as a seax, but also paid the best. And it gave me a loose schedule that allowed me to be home when Tessa and Kasen needed me."

  He nodded. "I used to envy the way the four of you pulled together to survive. But the last few years of Tessa's gambling debts have made me realize how lucky I was that I never had anyone else to look out for."

  It bothered her that he knew so much about her family already. It put her at a terrible disadvantage. "I must admit that there were a couple of times when I seriously thought about running away from them. I was too young to have so much responsibility dumped on me, but I knew if I surrendered us to the government we'd be separated and I couldn't stand the thought of them being abused the way I'd been. Not to mention, I couldn't survive without them and while Caillen would have managed all right without us, I don't think Kasen or Tessa would have survived on their own."

  "No, they can't even survive now on their own."

  That was very true. "I think the hardest thing for me was watching Caillen drop out of school to help out. He was so smart and made such good grades I know he could have gone on to university and done something great with his life. Instead he's now a low-rate smuggler like our father."

  "He's not low rate. He's one of the best pilots I have."

  She smiled. "Thanks."

  He inclined his head to her. "Personally, I think you should have made Kasen get off her lazy ass and work."

  "That's harsh," she snapped with a frown. "You know she really likes you."

  "Yeah, well, considering I'm one of the extremely few people she can stand for more than three seconds, that's not saying much."

  Her frown deepened. "She's had a hard time with it all, especially with her asthma and diabetes. There's so much she can't do and she has to be so careful not to overexert herself. Who can blame her for being a little difficult?"

  "Difficult?" he choked. "She took Caillen's last paycheck and blew it on a new dress and shoes."

  Shahara gaped. "Tell me she didn't."

  "Yes, she did. I thought Caillen was going to kill her and I almost helped."

  Shahara rubbed her eyes as a dull pain started in her temples. Kasen would never grow up. And neither would Tessa. "I suppose it's my fault. Tessa was only ten and Kasen eight when our father died. I was so afraid they'd be pushed to grow up too soon like I did that I overcompensated and allowed them to never take any responsibility at all." She let out a tired breath.

  He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "You should never apologize for loving someone too much."

  "No, but I fear I may have ruined their lives."

  "You shouldn't take responsibility for their shortcomings. Those are their problems, not yours."

  Shahara offered him a timid smile, thinking about what he said. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time she stopped covering for them all the time and allowed them to fall once in awhile.

  For several seconds, they sat quietly.

  Until Vik raised up and took flight. He buzzed past them. "There are footsteps approaching and they're headed straight for us."

  CHAPTER 11

  "Footsteps?" Shahara repeated, grabbing his weapon from the ground and rising to her feet. "I thought you said no one ever came down here."

  Syn stood by her side as he took the weapon from her hand. "They don't. Not without a good reason."

  "Like they're chasing after two imbeciles who were dumb enough to stay put while they searched?" she whispered angrily.

  "Sounds like a good reason to me." His nonchalance was seriously pissing her off. "So I misjudged our safety. It's not the first time I've made that mistake."

  "Now you tell me?"

  "Shh," he said, holding up his hand.

  Out of the silence, a voice called out, "Syn, where are you? I have someone here who wants to speak with you."

  "Run, Sheridan!" Mother Anne screamed.

  A myriad of emotions danced across his face, replacing his usual stoicism--concern, stunned disbelief, and finally he settled on rage. Shahara took a step back. Never in her life had she seen anyone so terrifying. This was the man her sheets had warned her about.

  Deadly. Evil. Cold.

  "Vik--" his tone was lethal. "Total dark. Now."

  Vik cut his light off.

  "I can't see," she whispered.

  "I can."

  She realized he'd left her. Holding her arms out in front of her, she felt her way along the walls, wishing her eyes would adjust to the darkness. It was like it engulfed her. Oppressed her.

  The total sensory dep was disturbing as she strained to feel or experience something.

  She couldn't even hear Syn's footsteps.

  Suddenly she heard the man who'd spoken moving closer. His feet, along with the Mother's, echoed off the marble walls so it sounded like an army was trampling through.

  A light came closer.

  Shahara dodged into an intersecting hallway and watched in awe as the number of the group grew . . .

  And grew.

  This wasn't just a single pursuer. There were twelve of them. And Mother Anne wasn't alone. Another priestess had been taken as well.

  "Where the hell is he?" one of the men growled.

  "Shh," the one who'd spoken originally barked. "I don't want him to know our numbers. Let him think I'm alone."

  "You're not alone," Syn said out of the darkness. "But you will be."

  Instantly, one man went down, his neck twisting.

  "Where is he?" the first man cried.

  Four more fell.

  "He's everywhere!" another shouted.

  Seeing her chance to join the fray, Shahara ran at the two holding the priestesses. She caught one in the windpipe a second before she kicked the other's knee out.

  "Run," she told the priestesses. They quickly disappeared into the darkness while she swung around to deal with the next man near her.

  "You bitch!" He aimed his weapon at her.

  She knocked his arm aside and pulled out her dagger. Slicing his arm, she headbutted him, then kicked him down and turned to take on the next.

  The four remaining men advanced on her.

  Syn paused as he watched Shahara take down the rest of their attackers with an ease that was impressive and a little frightening.

  Damn, she was good.

  A slow smile curved his lips as she emerged over the bodies. Her torso twisted slightly, it was a stance of power and skill.

  And it was sexy as hell.

  She met his gaze and returned his grin.

  "That's what I'm good at."

  Yes, she was.

  Her gaze narrowed on something behind him. Before he could move, she flew past him to kick at one of the bastards who'd been trying to lunge at his back.

  She knocked him to the ground and stomped him in the tenderest part of his anatomy. Falling back, he whined like a baby.

  Syn sucked his breath in sharply between his teeth as he involuntarily jerked and cupped himself. "You've got to quit doing that."

  She rolled her eyes. "Why are you bitching? It wasn't you this time."

  "Let's just say your last kick at my jewels is still fresh in my memory." He walked over to the guy and tsked at him. "I know that hurts. She kicks like a mule, huh?" He shook his head.

  "What are you going to do to me?" the man asked, his voice trembling.

  Shahara frowned while Syn dug around his pack until he found an injector. He held it up in front of his face as if inspecting the dosage. When he looked back at the cringing man, his expression was glacial, deadly. "I'm going to kill you." He shot him full of the contents.

  Shahara's heart stopped. Was he truly that cold-blooded?

  He moved to inject another man on the ground.

  Grabbing his arm, she pulled the injector away from the unconscious man's throat. "What are you doing?"

  He looked up with a startled gaze. "C'mon, don't play the innocent with me. You shot me while I was unarmed."

  "I didn't kill you."

  He shoved a vial into her hands. "And I'm not killing them. Relax, it's just a sedative to make sure they don't come after us for awhile."

  Still skeptical, she glanced at the container in her hand. A slow smile curled her lips as she read the label. He was being honest. "Then why did you lie to him?"

  "Why not? He's lucky I didn't kill him. Anyone else would have."

  More footsteps approached. Shahara held her breath, waiting to see if it was more attackers. She tossed Syn his blaster, which he caught with one hand before he stepped back into the shadows.

  Bracing herself, she waited for them to approach.

  Instead of rugged men out to kill them, the two priestesses returned. Mother Anne stayed back while the other one rushed to Syn and drew him into a tight hug. "I know it was foolish to come back, but we had to make sure that you weren't hurt."

  Syn tightened his arm around her and the expression of appreciation on his face brought a lump to Shahara's throat. He let go of her and stepped back. "It's good to see you again, Mother Omera."

  Mother Anne cast a worried grimace over the men on the ground. "Are they dead?"

  He scratched his cheek. "Resting. They'll be up and about in six or seven hours." He looked at Shahara. "Which doesn't give us that much of a head start. So if you'll excuse us?"

  "Sheridan?" Mother Omera put her hand on his arm to keep him from withdrawing. "You have done us proud."

  Syn paused at words that meant a lot to him, but they were wholly untrue and undeserved. "No, but I intend to." With that, he led Shahara back to the end of the catacombs and pulled the release for the secret entrance so that they could leave this place.

  Shahara frowned up at him. "Are you all right? I'm getting a weird vibe from you."

  "I feel about normal." He stooped to crawl through the opening.

  Shahara sighed. Well, that was certainly ambiguous enough. As she followed him through the entrance, she stopped. This time she knew the odor that filled her nose with a rotten, sour smell. "We're in a sewer?"

  "Did I forget to mention to you that we'd have to go through the sewers to reach the landing bay?"

  She narrowed her gaze at him, wanting to beat him to the ground. "You forget to mention a lot of things."

  He laughed.

  Vik came to rest on her shoulder. "Don't feel bad, Lady Bones. He forgets to tell me things, too. Like the fact that he wasn't going to come back and get me."

  Syn turned away from them. "I'm obviously outnumbered, so before you two combine forces and kill me, I'm walking this way." He paused to look back at her. "You want Vik to light the way again?"

  She paused as she heard creatures scurrying in the darkness. "Depends. How many furry, little critters will I see run away when he turns it on?"

  "Let's just say, if the thought of them makes you squeamish, you might want to wait."

  Her stomach dropped. She'd just been kidding but now that she thought about it . . .

  A hundred horror stories of vile things in sewers flashed through her mind. Were they rodents or something far more sinister? "Do they attack?"

  "Not as long as we keep moving."

  Shahara cringed. "Can you see?"

  "Unfortunately, yes. I see better down here than I do in daylight." He took her hand and led her forward through the filth and stench.

  "How?"

  "It's a Ritadarion birth defect that hits about one in every three hundred babies born. Some scientists speculate it's because we lost our primary sun two hundred years ago and the one left behind is so dim that children are mutating in order to adapt to our darker environment."

  "That's . . ." she searched for the most appropriate word. "Creepy."

  "Thanks."

  "No problem."

  His grip tightened on her hand. "What?" she asked, hating the fact that she couldn't see what had made him tense.

  "I thought I heard something." He came to a stop.

  Shahara strained to hear, but nothing came to her, other than the painful reminder that vermin were running entirely too close to her stationary self. "Maybe it was one of the little beasties at our feet."

  "Maybe." He tugged her hand again. "C'mon."

  She didn't say anything more as she followed after him, while Vik made whirring noises on her shoulder. She couldn't believe she was alone in the dark with a man and not terrified. But the longer she stayed with Syn the more used to him she became.

  It was strange to her. Strange and somehow wonderful.

  Too bad it couldn't last. For them, there was no future. All she would have of him was this minute time.

  Spent in a sewer . . .

  Instead of being happy about the prospect of putting this mission behind her, a horrible pain stabbed her chest as she realized how soon they'd part as eternal enemies.

  Unwilling to examine it, she promised herself to let him get no closer to her. She couldn't afford to. Her future and that of her siblings depended on it.

  At last he stopped. "There's a ladder just above my head. I'm going to pick you up. Crawl to the top and you'll find a small grate. It has a spring latch and, once you're close to it, you'll see how to release it."

  He took her by the waist. The strength of his hands burned her as he effortlessly lifted her up. Shahara seized the ladder and did as he told her.

  When she reached the top, she gave a sigh of relief. Thank heaven they were finally out of that smelly hole. But all things considered, the surface air really wasn't all that much better.

  She turned to help Syn up. It was then that she noticed the man standing in the fading light of the afternoon sun.

  And the blaster he had angled at her chest.

  "Say one word of warning and you're dead," he whispered.

  Shahara froze as she quickly assessed the threat. There were sixteen of them, fully armed and ready to kick ass, and Syn would be temporarily blinded by the brighter light when he came out of the darkness . . .

  Someone seized her from behind.

  All her senses alert, Shahara could no longer think. Her training took hold. Stomping an instep, she whirled on her attacker with a fierce growl.

  Syn squinted in her direction, but for his life he couldn't open his eyes wide enough to see anything. The glare from the fading sun had him completely blinded. His gut told him that they were in trouble, but damn his eyes, he couldn't do anything. All he could do was hear Shahara fighting and blasters shooting.

  "Vik?"

  "To the right."

  Syn struck out and felt his attacker go down. Vik landed on his shoulder so that he could talk him through the fight.

  By the time his eyes adjusted, the fight was over. Vik fluttered his wings as Syn surveyed the damage. And honestly, he was stunned.

  He'd taken out two. Shahara had handled the others on her own.

  Her features stern, she stood over one unconscious man with her hands clenched at her sides. The rest lay on the street, piled up around her. By their clothes, he marked them for Ritadarion trackers.

  In awe, he looked at Shahara. "Remind me not to ever piss you off."

  She had a glazed expression an instant before her legs buckled. Syn barely caught her before she hit the street.

  "Shahara?" he gasped in startled alarm, holding her against him. "Shahara . . . answer me." It was only then that he saw the blood seeping from her scalp.

  What was he going to do? He couldn't take her back to the temple or Digger's. Those places were no longer safe.

  Scanning the area around them, he knew they had to get off the street before more Rits or desperate natives decided to try their hand at apprehending him.

  Picking her up, he cradled her against his chest. She felt so tiny in his arms that it momentarily stunned him. She was so vibrant while awake that he'd forgotten just how small she really was.

  And she wouldn't last long without medical attention. That thought foremost in his mind, he ran with her toward the spaceport.

  Over and over his mind kept flashing on Talia and the way she'd looked when he'd found her in his bedroom. The pale blue tint of her skin. Her eyes half open. Her body drenched in the blood that had drained out from her slashed wrists . . .

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