Cloak & Silence (The League) Page 3

  None of the others exposed their faces, but they stood shoulder to shoulder behind Darling. “The Tavali will always fight for and back the Sentella, especially against the League.”

  Oh yeah, this was going to be one bloody war these people were starting.

  And all for a woman he’d called a fool for her belief that someone could love her enough to rescue her, never mind start a war over her capture.

  Wow...

  Kyr took a full minute before he spoke again. “All of you will regret this.”

  Darling smirked. “The war is on. Can’t wait for our first dance.”

  An instant later, the screens went dark.

  “How rude!” a female soldier tsked. “It’s a good thing he’s on the other side of the Nine Systems, otherwise, I’d have to hunt him down and hurt him.”

  The man who stood beside Nykyrian let out an evil laugh. “Yes, but not rude on his part.” He held up his wrist computer. “I killed the feed. Five more seconds of looking at him and I’d have puked.” He turned his attention to Darling. “Remind me later that we really need to send you to anger management therapy.”

  Darling widened his eyes innocently at the man as he pulled Zarya against him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Rit. I’m all good.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not,” another insanely tall man said. “We just got busted.”

  One of the Tavali soldiers draped an arm around his shoulders. “We’re not busted, brother. Only the morons who showed their faces.” He passed a pointed stare to Nykyrian, Darling and Caillen.

  Caillen shrugged. “What the hell? I never liked feeling safe, anyway. That’s for old women.”

  The female who’d spoken came down the stairs, holding another man against her. Darling rushed toward them. “What happened?”

  “He protected me and got shot.”

  “I’ll be fine,” the man said with a grimace.

  “Thought you weren’t psychic?” Darling asked.

  “I’m not. But I know my body and right now, my head really hates you, Dar.” He winced in pain as he met Zarya’s gaze. “Don’t worry. You’re both fine.”

  Bursting into tears, she rushed to hug him. “Thank you! I’ve been so scared.”

  Ture frowned at her reaction.

  The man patted her on the back then stepped away. “Darling? You really should show her those papers you found.”

  Darling sighed. “I hate it when you do that, Nero.”

  “I know. Now I need to lie down.”

  Ture felt the same way.

  The tallest soldier among them went to take the man from the woman’s grasp. “Let’s all get out of here before reinforcements come. Kyr may be on the other side of the universe, but not all of his army is with him.”

  Maris nodded before he picked Ture up and carried him out of the prison and into their waiting transport.

  Just outside the door, Maris turned toward another soldier who was walking past. “Hey, Drake? Can you tow my ship out of here for me?”

  Drake, who was completely covered by his battlesuit, launched himself up the ramp to stand beside them. “Are you hurt too badly to fly?” There was no missing the concern in his tone as he scanned Maris’s body and touched several of the injuries to inspect them. For some reason, Ture felt a vicious stab of jealousy. Drake must be Maris’s boyfriend.

  “I’m fine, baby. I just have someone more important to take care of.”

  “Okay.” Drake patted Maris on the shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Ture stared at the hand that lingered on Maris’s body. And he wondered if Drake knew how lucky he was to have someone like Maris in his life.

  All Ture had ever found were selfish dickheads who never hesitated to verbally stab him.

  As Drake left, Maris carried Ture into the ship, to a small room where he could lay him down on a small bed in the infirmary. He moved to get a blanket.

  “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble with your boyfriend.”

  Maris froze as he tucked the blanket around his body. “Huh?”

  “Drake...outside. I hope he’s not the jealous type.”

  He burst out laughing. “Trust me, Drake is not my boyfriend. I’d have to murder myself if he were. He’s more like a kid brother I’ve known for most of his irritating life.” Stepping back from the bed, Maris hit the release for his helmet then pulled it off.

  For a full minute, Ture couldn’t breathe as the full impact of Maris’s looks overwhelmed him. His face finely boned and well chiseled, Maris was male beauty personified. Deep, dark eyes held him captive as they betrayed the depth of Maris’s intelligence and zest for life. The sweat from battle had left his short dark hair plastered to his head, but it didn’t detract from his handsomeness at all. Rather, it made him even more appealing, more masculine. Yet it was those plump full lips that made Ture’s throat go dry. Lips he wanted to taste so badly that for a moment, it drove away all thoughts of pain.

  Damn...

  He should have let Zarya introduce him to Maris a long time ago. What had been his problem?

  Obviously it was something called stupidity.

  Maris hesitated as a fierce wave of nervousness tackled him to the ground. I should have left my helmet on. Because right now, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, he felt naked and exposed.

  Vulnerable.

  And he had no idea why.

  Worse, he was sure he looked like crap, and he was lucky Ture wasn’t cringing in distaste of his sweating grotesqueness. Please don’t let me smell as bad as I fear I do... Though it would serve him right given how many times he’d mocked Darling for his stench whenever his friend had returned from missions.

  Suddenly self-conscious, he ran his gloved hand over his hair, hoping to smooth it down and not make it stand up worse.

  Really, was there anything uglier than helmet hair?

  Uncertain, he went to the cabinet and searched for supplies to stop some of Ture’s bleeding. Gathering them together, he forced himself to think about tending wounds and not the fact that Zarya’s best friend was absolutely gorgeous. Sexy. Completely edible...

  Even though Ture had been beaten and tortured, it couldn’t take away from his incredible good looks. His reddish brown hair was two shades lighter than Darling’s with highlighted tips that had grown out during his imprisonment. As had his beard. Something Maris had never found attractive on any man and yet...

  Ture made it look good.

  Damn good.

  Worse, Maris had always been a sucker for a man in pain. It was probably why he’d fallen in love with Darling years ago. The little bugger had taken a beating for him on the first day they met in grade school. That heroic action coupled with the sight of Darling bleeding to protect him had won him over instantly.

  But this was very different. Ture wasn’t a boy. He was a man full grown and totally delectable. Stupid hormones. Unlike him, they had no loyalty. And they were all standing at attention while he looked down at a man who was as gorgeous as anyone Maris had ever met.

  Forcing his thoughts away from the fact that Ture’s muscles were well defined and hard, Maris set his supplies on the table next to the bed. He opened the cloth that was soaked in disinfectant then moved back to Ture. “I’m not sure what to give you in way of a painkiller so this is probably going to sting.”

  “It’s fine. Pain I can take.”

  Brave words. But as Maris set the cloth to the deepest wound on Ture’s cheek, he realized the man wasn’t bragging. He didn’t even flinch.

  And that was sexier than hell.

  As carefully as he could, Maris cleaned the blood, sweat and dirt from Ture’s face so that he could see how bad the injuries were. Yet all he really uncovered was a set of rugged features that did nothing for his sanity. And it didn’t help that he knew Ture was definitely on the menu...

  His gaze burning into him, Ture reached up and covered Maris’s hand that was on Ture’s cheek with his own. “Thank you.”
>
  Ture’s gratitude confused him. “For what?”

  “Being the man Zarya said you were.”

  Maris snorted at the compliment that made him deeply uncomfortable. Born and bred in a warrior culture where they had thirty-three words for honor, twenty for loyalty and not a single one for love, Maris could count on one hand the number of times someone had complimented him for anything. “Trust me, I’m more bitch than hero.”

  Ture laughed then winced as if pain cut through him.

  The door opened. Maris turned to see Syn coming in with his helmet off. The Ritadarion thief and assassin was almost even to his height. Syn had his dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and the liner Syn routinely wore into battle was smudged a bit around his left eye. “How’s he doing?”

  Maris stepped back to give him room. “Not a doctor.”

  “Yeah well, to hear Kip tell it, most days I’m not either.”

  Maris laughed while Syn started examining the cuts and bruises on Ture’s face.

  Ture wasn’t sure what to make of the newcomer. Not until he reached into a drawer by the bed and pulled out a biotec tablet. “I’m Syn,” he said in an even, calm tone as he turned the tablet on and entered a medical code. “And I really am a fully licensed doctor...graduated number one in my class.” He glanced up at Ture. “I’m assuming you’re purely Caronese?”

  “I am.”

  Syn narrowed his gaze on him. “One hundred percent? I don’t want to give you something and have a nasty surprise over it.”

  Since Ture had only gone to local doctors on his home planet, he’d never thought about how hard a job it must be should a hybrid life form come in for treatment. “Yeah. As pure-blooded as anyone can be.”

  “Okay.” Syn reached down into the pocket on the left leg of his battlesuit. “I’m giving you something for pain then I’m going to start a drip. I’m sure you’re more than aware of the fact that you’re badly dehydrated and malnourished.” Once he’d injected Ture, he looked over at Maris. “What about you, bud? Is that your blood all over your uniform?”

  “Unfortunately. Bastards ruined it.”

  Syn ground his teeth. “I can stop the bleeding, but you know I have nothing to give you, right?”

  “I wouldn’t take it even if you did. Just clean it out and I’ll heal.” Too tired to move anymore, Maris sat down in the corner chair. “How’s Zarya?”

  “Better now that I peeled Darling off the ceiling. I swear, I almost tranqed his ass. I would definitely not want to be in your brother’s shoes right now. We’ll have to ride herd on Darling...hard. Otherwise, he’s going to do something else really stupid to get to Kyr. But back to your question, they busted her up pretty good. Luckily, she’ll be fine in a few days, and the baby she’s carrying looks to be unaffected by it all. Gods willing.” Syn started the IV.

  Ture blinked hard as his vision dimmed. Syn hadn’t just given him a painkiller. He’d put something in it to knock him out. He wanted to stay awake, but it was a losing battle. In a matter of seconds, he was sound asleep.

  Maris frowned as he saw Ture go limp. “Did you—”

  “Yeah. He needed it. Besides, I didn’t think you wanted him to witness what I’m about to do to treat you.”

  Good point. Humans often had a hard time dealing with the oddities of the Phrixians. Darling was one of the few who could understand and tolerate Maris’s special health needs.

  Syn moved toward the sink. “Take your top off.”

  Maris purred at his command. “You know, I’ve been waiting for years to hear that come out of your mouth, baby. Should I remove my pants, too? I’m sure I could muster something down there that might require your immediate, personal attention.”

  Syn laughed at his teasing invitation. “You’re the only man who could say that to me and still keep his best friend attached to his body. You’re lucky I love you, Mari.”

  “I know, brother.” Maris opened his battlesuit while Syn ran a bowl of water.

  When Syn turned back to face him, he froze. His eyes widened in horror.

  Maris started to cover himself then stopped. What was the use? Syn had already seen the horrendous scars that marred his flesh. Why cover up now?

  “I had no idea,” Syn breathed.

  Maris shrugged. “You don’t grow up gay in a fiercely heterosexual warrior culture without taking a lot of damage.” Not to mention his lovely stint as a political prisoner with their enemies for a full decade. Thanks, Dad and League, for those atrocious nightmares. “In spite of what my family says, I’m pretty sure they knew all along, and they went out of their way to beat it out of me.”

  “Does Darling know?”

  Maris shook his head. “I don’t get naked around Darling.” It was why he always kept himself covered from head to foot. Many times, he even wore gloves. Only his lovers had ever seen his body, and even then he kept the room as dark as possible so that no one knew the full weight of the shame he carried with him.

  “If it makes you feel better, Nykyrian and I both have more scars than you do.”

  And so did Darling.

  He looked up at Syn. “For the record, Syn, it doesn’t make me feel better to know the people I love best have suffered even more than I have. Really doesn’t.”

  Syn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave a light squeeze. “And that’s why we love you, Mari.”

  Maris didn’t respond as Syn started working on his numerous injuries. He did, however, grimace as the pain intensified. If only he could get to a tub of water...

  Damn.

  “You okay?” Syn asked, his voice tense with concern.

  “I’m not going to die. Darling would never forgive me for it.”

  Syn laughed. “Knowing him, he’d follow you into hell if you did and drag you back out.”

  “And all of you would be right by his side, battling demons the whole way, in and out.”

  “Yeah well...we’re stupid that way.”

  Yes, they were. And that was why he was devoted to all of them.

  Syn stood up and wiped his hands on a clean cloth. “Anything I can get for you?”

  Maris shook his head. “Thanks, though.”

  “You need me, buzz. I’m heading back to Zarya.”

  Maris pulled his battlesuit back on as Syn left. Then he stood and returned to Ture’s side. He couldn’t imagine what the two of them had been put through because of his brother’s sadistic madness. Guilt stabbed him hard. He shouldn’t feel responsible for Kyr’s actions and yet he always had.

  “I won’t let him hurt you anymore,” he whispered, brushing his hand through Ture’s hair. “I promise.”

  * * *

  Ture came awake to the sensation of someone starting to pick him up. Thinking it was a League soldier, he opened his eyes, ready to fight, then relaxed as he met Maris’s dark gaze.

  Maris released him instantly. “Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Ture smiled at Maris’s deep, pleasant accent. Sometimes he found it difficult to understand Maris’s words. Still, he adored the sound of his lilting cadence. “It’s okay. I’d much rather wake up to you than a League guard.”

  “That’s not exactly a compliment since I’m rather sure the devil himself would be preferable to that.”

  True.

  Ture bit his lip as he realized that while he’d slept Maris had combed his hair and freshened up. Damn, he was exquisite.

  “Maris? Would it be rude if I asked you where you’re from? I know from your accent that you’re not Caronese.”

  “Not rude at all. I’m Phrixian.”

  “Ah.”

  Maris gave him a wicked, taunting grin. “You have no idea, do you?”

  “Not a clue. In fact, if I had a starchart in front of me, I still wouldn’t know where to even start to look for it. I’ve heard of your people, but really know very little other than the name.”

  “That is a personal choice.” Maris winked at him. “We don’t like or trust o
utsiders so we’re not real forthcoming with details about our people or territories.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “If you’re ready, we docked about ten minutes ago. Zarya wants you taken to the palace with her until Syn clears you, health wise. She said you don’t have anyone at home to watch over you.”

  “I would argue, but she’s right.” The only person in his apartment was Anachelle, and he was taking care of her. She was in no shape to watch over him as he healed.

  When he started to get up, Maris stopped him. He indicated the machine pole next to the bed. “You’re still attached, love.”

  Syn reentered the room. “How’s he doing?”

  “Not the doctor.”

  Syn rolled his eyes at Ture over Maris’s words. “He always says that.”

  Maris held his hands up in a very feminine and adorable gesture. “Hey, I respect expertise and when it comes to health, I know nothing. Especially not about other races.”

  Without a word, Syn detached the bed from the wall so that it could be used as a stretcher. He put the fluid bag onto a smaller pole that was near Ture’s head. “You coming?” he asked Maris.

  “Right behind you, precious.”

  Ture felt awkward being wheeled into Darling’s palace. While he’d seen the royal abode thousands of times in his life and had toured the public governing sections as part of a school trip decades ago, he’d never dreamed of seeing the private areas.

  They went in through a rear entrance, and toward an elevator. The staff turned to look at them, but no one said anything or stopped them. Syn took him upstairs to a room where servants were quickly preparing it.

  Ture’s jaw dropped at the luxury. He’d never seen anything finer. The ceiling over his head held elaborate gold trim and was painted with a breathtaking celestial scene. It was like looking up at heaven.

  The bed was larger than Ture’s entire bedroom...okay, a slight exaggeration. Still, it was giant. The bed held a navy blue canopy that was trimmed in gold and maroon— the royal Caronese colors.

  The door opened.

  Ture half expected it to be a guard telling them to get out. So when he saw Darling, the royal governor, coming into the room to check on him, he was stunned.