Moonstruck (16 page)

Next he reported to his commanding officer, the woman he’d spent half of last night pleasuring, the woman who this morning advised in his PCD,
“Use caution, Finn.”
That woman wasn’t in sight. She was hidden behind the rock-hard facade of Admiral Bandar. Aye, but she was there.

“You called the killings the result of an attack,” she stated, one dark flare of a brow lifting.

“Aye, I did.” He decided to tell her straight up what happened on the surface: trying to sugarcoat or put off what his entire team had witnessed would only make it worse. Rumors were already spreading. He might as well end them here. “They were skulled, Admiral. All seventeen men.”

A flash of pain and hatred came and went so fast in her face that it was gone before it truly registered in Finn’s mind. The hatred he could understand. Why the pain?

“Skulled,” she said. “You’re certain.”

“Aye. Burns at the base of the neck, nothing left inside the skulls, faces gone.”

Her steely facade wavered again, her mouth tightening at his description. Battle-veteran Brit Bandar should be used to hearing of skulling after all the years she’d spent at war with the Horde. Yet, the subject affected her more than she let on.

“I see.” She turned, took a breath and seemed to make an inner decision. Then, coming to life before his eyes, every last bit of distress vanishing, she addressed the bridge crew. “All hands, prepare for pursuit!”

A flurry of “Yes, Admiral”s met her order.

“Search for ion echoes,” she directed the engineer next. “I don’t care how faint. If their ship has left the barest trace of a wake, we will find it and follow it.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“I intend to track down every last one of those skulling bastards if it takes us from one end of the Borderlands to the other.” Her hand closed into a fist as if she’d grabbed one of the rogues by the throat. “Justice will be served. Justice will be swift.”

“Admiral,” the engineer called. “I’ve found possible echo traces. Analyzing now.”

“No. Download them to the pilot station. We’ll analyze later. I’d rather head off on a hunch than sit here doing nothing. Cadet Pehzwan—follow those echoes.”

“Aye, aye, Admiral!” Rakkelle called out and the mighty battleship shuddered as it turned to a new course, accelerating as it did so.

Brit circled the bridge, looking over shoulders, offering comments or encouragement and checking new data. She acted with a focus that was almost frightening in intensity. This was the Stone-Heart of legend, he thought. The transformation from a moment ago was amazing. Whatever he’d glimpsed that looked like anguish at the idea of skulling was nowhere to be seen. Who was that woman he glimpsed from time to time, and why such misery? By the gods above, he needed to know.

“Warleader, Star-Major, join me in my office.” Coldly, she summoned both her senior officers.

Finn exhaled through his nose. Here comes the ugly part, he thought—so ugly that she wanted to do it in private. Rakkelle cast him a pitying glance as he followed Brit.

Finn remained standing before her desk. Like Brit, Yarew settled into a smart chair that actually seemed to act smart. With both officers seated, though, it would appear odd if he didn’t sit.

Finn aimed his ass at the nearest seat and dropped into it. It sank below the level of Brit’s desk before dampening its movement, leaving him at a lower point than either officer. He pushed down with his feet, released, and the chair sank again. “Freepin’ thing,” he muttered under his breath, making sure his palm was pressed firmly to the ID reader to make doubly sure genetic identity was visible to the computer inside. It was. The “smart” chair had simply decided on its own that he was to be seated below the others. “This is done purposely at the factory, isn’t it, lest we Drakken get too uppity?”

Neither of the officers’ facial expressions changed. Brit’s was as stony as ever. Finn swallowed a sigh.

“We will treat this as a wartime situation,” she began. “Warleader, I would like you to organize regular combat drills and ship-wide simulation exercises. Levels of experience vary on this crew. They must learn to work together.”

“Aye, we must.” Work together: it was good to hear her thinking in those terms. “I’ll hammer them into fighting shape.” If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was taking a fractured, motley crew and teaching them to work as one. Teaching them to be soldiers.

“Star-Major, you will communicate with the Intelligence Ministry and debrief them thoroughly on what we found at the settlement.”

“Permission to make a suggestion,” Finn interrupted.

“Speak,” Brit said.

“Be careful how we share what we know. Here’s why.” Finn leaned forward to rest his laced fingers on her desk. It was an odd angle with his lowered chair, but he needed his body language to convey a desire to confide. “There’s a world of difference between the rogues who massacred the scientists and the deserters running scared and hungry. The raiders we were sent here to coax into the Triad are acting out of desperation to fill their bellies. On the other hand, the skullers I am quite sure acted out of malice. They chose the one method
they knew
would strike fear into the hearts of the Coalition. We don’t yet know if it’s an isolated act or the beginning of a terror campaign by those with designs on resurrecting the Drakken Empire’s former glory.”

“Never,” Brit murmured as Yarew glowered.

“Believe it or not, most Drakken feel as you do, even though we lost the war. Peace is the best thing that’s happened to my people in centuries.”

“Centuries of fighting a war that the Horde started,” Yarew pointed out.

“And finished. We killed our warlord and declared allegiance to the goddess.”

The officer knew that; he merely wanted to bait him, laying the blame for hundreds of years of war on Finn’s shoulders. He set his jaw, refusing to give in to anger, especially with Brit sitting close, watching his reaction. “We have to look past blame to hold on to peace. You’ve seen the tension in our own crew, for gods’ sake. The wounds are still raw. It won’t take much to get them bleeding again. An incident like Cupezikan is just the excuse needed to keep fighting until every last Drakken is exterminated.”

“What do you suggest we do, Warleader?” Brit asked.

“We treat the skulling as an isolated incident.”

“And if it isn’t?” Yarew asked.

“We reassess if that comes to pass. And pray to the gods that it doesn’t.”

“The gods,” Brit muttered in a barely audible snarl as she rolled her eyes. Clearly the woman didn’t put much stock in divine help. It was another piece of the puzzle that he wanted badly to assemble.

Picking up her light pen, she rolled it between two fingers as she pondered what he’d told her. Then, finally, she nodded. “Star-Major, tell the ministry what we have discovered. Tell them…” Thinking, she tapped the pen on the desk. “Tell them that a group of fanatics attacked a small settlement in the Borderlands. Call it a brazen attack on innocent settlers, and tell them that the entire, multinational Triad crew serving aboard the
Unity
looks forward to bringing the terrorists to justice.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Finn said.

“Gratitude is irrelevant to this discussion, Warleader,” she said coolly, rising to her feet. “I simply want to buy us some time to hunt down the amoral beasts. If Zaafran sends the fleet after them, I may not have that pleasure.” Her eyes darkened as they narrowed. “And trust me, I do want that pleasure. Now then—” she seemed to return to normal “—let us return to the bridge.”

Lieutenant Keyren had finally showed up. Back in uniform, she took her place at Brit’s side.

“Update,” Brit called to the engineer.

“Still working on that echo, Admiral.”

“Good, good. Fools to think they can terrorize the innocent and get away with it. Let’s see how arrogant they are in smart-cuffs down in the brig—that is, if they live that long.” The idea of wreaking vengeance on the Cupezikan murderers clearly energized Brit.

It was contagious. The bridge was abuzz as everyone bent to their specific tasks. Even Rakkelle seemed caught up in the excitement—her first time on a real ship with a real mission.

Brit seemed to take in the sight of the busy bridge with satisfaction. Then she nodded at Finn and Yarew in turn. “Warleader, Star-Major, your presence is no longer needed on the bridge.” Turning on a polished heel, she returned to her office.

“But it’s my shift,” Yarew protested, appearing confused as he watched her go. “She’s not even officially on duty.”

“Aye, she tends to forget she doesn’t live on the bridge,” Finn remarked, turning to follow her. “I’ll see what I can do to help her remember that she doesn’t.”

B
RIT SHUT THE OFFICE DOOR
,
sealing herself off from the bridge, and sank, drained, into her desk chair. The smart seat caught her, dampening out the sudden movement.

She turned to gaze at the stars, putting the bridge and the bustling activity there behind her. Finally, she had a mission again. She had purpose in her life once more, a reason to wake up each day as opposed to diplomacy—bah, such a ridiculous notion, especially in light of the events on Cupezikan.

The settlers had been skulled….
In her long years at the helm of a battleship, she’d received worse news, had seen worse with her own eyes. It was a tragedy, yes, but what was a mere seventeen dead when she’d seen thousands? She’d built up a certain tolerance to horror, a consequence of a long military career. This shouldn’t have affected her the way it had.

There had been no warning when Finn broke the news. She’d let her guard down. For a sickening moment the doors to the past had threatened to fly open. Focusing on exacting vengeance held those nightmarish memories at bay, but barely.

Control had always come so easily. It helped her survive when she’d wanted to die. Perhaps now with her mission once again clear, doing what she had for the past two decades, she’d be able to reclaim her old self and regroup.

She wanted life to stay as it always was, and had been ever since she walked away from Arrayar, dry-eyed and determined to make a difference.

Determined to exterminate Drakken.

Now what had she gone and done? She’d taken a Hordish lover, all because he had Seff’s eyes.

Liar. You’ve long ago stopped seeing Seff’s eyes when you look into Finn’s. And still you let him in your bed. You like it with him, too, admit it. You like the way he makes you feel.

Hell, she more than liked it. The Drakken warleader, the pirate captain, was the best lay she’d ever had in a long string of men, including her late husband.

May the gods punish you for soiling Seff’s memory with such sordid comparisons, Britasha,
her mother would have cried. Life was punishing enough without having punishing gods around to make it worse. There were many reasons Brit no longer believed, and that was one of them.

Brit winced. She should be thinking of rogue ships, not what she did in bed last night! What was happening to her?

In the meeting with Yarew, Rorkken had had her eating out of his hand, telling her what to do and say, and she’d agreed like a little, mindless puppet! Yes, she agreed somewhat with his view on not inciting unrest, but still, he was Rorkken. He was
Drakken.
She was not to give him any real power…over her ship, or over her.

Good in bed or not, Rorkken threatened her focus like nothing else ever had. She needed to start weaning herself from him. Now. She needed to show some discipline about bedding him. Maybe tomorrow she’d take that step. Tonight would be the last of him. She grew warm, aroused, conjuring the feel of his warm lips on her—

The door to her office opened and closed as Finn barged in, ending any question of her sleeping alone anytime soon. He waited until the door sealed shut before he opened his mouth to speak—and stopped midbreath to take a closer look at her face. “Aye, I know how it feels,” he said, gentler. “You think you have no right to go on with your life when others have died in such a fashion.”

She stiffened. “I’m fine.”

He studied her with those too-perceptive eyes. “Are
we?
”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You and me. Tonight. We have plans.” He leaned on her desk, supporting his weight with spread hands. “In light of what happened today, I suggest canceling our lightball match in favor of a quiet dinner. Your quarters or mine?”

“Yours?” She recoiled in irritation. “And risk making our affair the subject of gossip? There are a hundred excuses for you coming to my suite and none for my going to yours.”

“No excuses? I think not. I know for one you’re hungering for one of those kisses you’ve come to love—” his voice deepened with a hint of huskiness “—and wanting me deep, deep inside you while we’re sharin’ one of those kisses. That’s two reasons right there.”

She swallowed, feeling her face grow hot—hells, her face and everywhere else. “Damn you, Rorkken.”

“Tell me more sweet words over dinner. Come—up, up. Time’s a-wasting. Yarew’s anxious to get in your chair. It is, after all, his shift.”

Surprised, Brit glanced at the ship-time readout. “It is, isn’t it?” She brushed a tired hand over her face. “I’ll need a shower.”

“I’ll help you.”

She considered his offer. Getting drenched with Finn Rorkken would be a perfect distraction to the day’s jarring events. “All right.”

He gave her one of his grins that she felt clear to her toes. One look at those smiling eyes and she was helpless.

With as much pride as she could muster, she pushed to her feet.

On her way out of the office, she told Hadley, “I’m calling it a night. I’ll have no further need of you until the morning. Disturb me for emergencies only.”

The girl’s curious gaze flicked to Finn and back again. Brit froze. Did Hadley suspect something between them?

It served as a warning to be extra careful in the future. Her secret affair with her Hordish second-in-command must remain exactly that, or she risked compromising everything she stood for to her crew, and her people.

T
HE MOMENT THE DOOR
to Brit’s quarters slid shut, she was in Rorkken’s arms. She shook off her identity as Admiral Bandar as swiftly as she shook out her hair, letting it fly soft and loose over her shoulders. Alone with Finn, miraculously, she could be someone else. Someone she hardly remembered.

He hoisted her off her feet, hiking her thighs up and over his hips, walking her to the nearest wall where he kissed her to within an inch of her life.

“I’ve waited all day to do that, Brit. Through everything that happened, I waited, thinking of this…of you,” he said and kissed her again.

“I thought we were going to take a shower….”

“A little foreplay first….” He lowered her to her feet to strip off her uniform and the filmy undergarments she wore underneath. “Gods, woman. Now that I know what you’re wearin’ under your Triad colors, it’s going to be damn-blasted difficult not thinking about it at inopportune times.”

“What would you consider inopportune?” She knew, but she wanted to hear him say it. The day had been long and awful. This was her reward. She wanted the distraction of his sexy words.

“Inopportune would be…” He lifted her again, his big hands supporting her rear end as he spread her thighs wide. The fabric of his expedition outfit set up a dizzying abrasion as he walked her to her desk and sat her on it, easing her fall to her back as his upper body followed. “Throwing you onto the holo-vis table in the middle of the bridge and doing this—” he yanked open his trousers and filled her with an astonishingly hard, blazing-hot erection.

She sucked in a startled breath with the explosion of sensation. “I think…I like…inopportune,” he said tightly, affected by the sudden joining as much as she was.

He withdrew nearly all the way only to plunge deep all over again. She couldn’t contain her pleasure. Crying out, she arched her back to press even closer. The rough feel of his uniform contrasted with the velvety heat of his groin was erotic beyond belief. “So much for foreplay, or a shower before sex,” she gasped, clinging to his heaving shoulders.

“I obey your orders on the bridge, sweetheart.” He thrust oh, so deep. “This is not the bridge.” He lowered his mouth to her throat, kissing her moist skin. “And this is not sex. In fact, we haven’t had sex a single time.”

She half laughed, half moaned. “I must have been dreaming it then, as I’m dreaming this.”

“Now, we’ve
made love
about six or seven times.”

“Call it what you will, but it’s been eight times we’ve coupled in one fashion or another.”

“Eight, then.” Chuckling, he returned to her lips to kiss her. He always took time to kiss her. To kiss her until she sighed.

As he moved deep inside her, the rough fabric of his trousers set up an erotic abrasion. Each wave of pleasure brought her closer to the edge. She seemed to have no self-control with him; none.

Then he stopped, going absolutely still. Only the sound of their harsh breaths filled the silent room. “Are you still insisting this is mere sex?” he murmured against her mouth. “Or will you admit we’re making love?”

“There’s a difference?” she gasped.

“Aye, there’s a difference. I’m going to teach you what it is, too, no matter how many times it takes. As long as you’re a willing student.”

“Move,”
she urged him. “Please.”

“Like this?” he said on a deep chuckle, swaying slowly before turning more aggressive. “Or like this?” Even he sounded breathless now.

“That…” Letting her eyes fall shut in pleasure, she hung on as he took her to the verge of climax all too quickly. “Finn,” she whispered. He needn’t wonder any longer who she saw behind her closed eyes. It was him, all him. “Ah, Finn.”

The sound of his name proved his undoing. He made a guttural sound, his body jerking once, twice, as he unsuccessfully tried to hold back from orgasm. It didn’t matter; she was already coming apart in his arms, her teeth sinking into his uniform-covered shoulder and holding him close with her legs. Clutching each other, they shuddered as one then finally went limp, exhausted and, for the moment, satisfied.

It had been fast and furious and what they’d both obviously needed after the long day. She couldn’t move a finger. Who knew where he found the strength to lift her off the desk, but the next thing she realized, he was carrying her into the shower.

She sighed against his epaulet-clad shoulder as he set her on still-shaky legs and turned on the drenching stream. Spray glittered in his hair. Sometime during his tenure on the
Unity,
he’d ceased wearing his pirate beads and braids—she couldn’t recall when—but his hair was still shaggy and long when not gathered in a neat, leather-wrapped tail at the base of his neck. Dark brown with burnished highlights, his hair hung clean and thick around his shoulders. It swung around his boyishly handsome face as he stripped naked and stepped into the enclosure with her. Finally, a shower.

“I knew you’d obey me in the end, Rorkken.”

“Are you sure about that?” His gaze was dark and wicked as he sank slowly to his knees, sliding his big hands down the sides of her body until he knelt before her and placed his mouth where she needed it most. Her head fell back against the shower wall as he began to pleasure her with the eagerness of a pirate claiming his treasure. His impassioned attention to detail ensured her immunity from the past, forming a barrier to the nightmares clamoring to be set free in the far reaches of her mind.

Sex as medicine? She’d take it. Surely it wasn’t more than just sex, no matter what he claimed. Surely he wasn’t coming to mean more to her than…
this.

Trembling, burying her fingers in his silky hair, she let him take her to the place where she felt safe, where no memories could intrude, not even those of Seff. All that mattered was
now.

A
GOOD WHILE LATER
,
they sat across from each other at a table, sharing a delicious hot meal and the usual bottle of Brit’s beloved Kin-Kan wine. He hadn’t been familiar with the vintage before coming aboard this ship. He wouldn’t have been able to afford it even if he had. They’d lived in different spheres, he and Brit.

He’d pulled on his undertank to cover himself, and she wore a silk robe. Her hair flowed long and loose. “Tell me about your family,” he said, savoring a tender piece of something avian—he didn’t care what species, only that it was delicious. “Where are you from?”

Brit’s fork froze in midair before resuming its path back to her plate, where it sat.

“Ah, come now. We’ve shared physically about all there is to share, and you can’t even tell me where you were born?” he teased. “Are there brothers, sisters? Are you in touch with them much on the voyages?”

She picked up her fork again. “No,” she said, pushing food around on her plate. “I am not.”

“Sometimes I’d try to imagine what it would be like to have a family. Then I’d watch my crew and get to thinking it was easier without one. You’ve got no one to miss.”

“No, you wouldn’t….” Something infinitely sad flickered in her eyes before she averted her gaze, abandoning her food in favor of a long sip of wine. Did she miss the bastard who broke her heart? He hoped to gods she soon forgot the beast. She sure didn’t act as if she missed the idiot in the throes of passion. That, he decided, was a very good sign. “I have no siblings. I haven’t spoken to my parents in years, not since I left to attend the academy. I don’t even know if they’re still alive.”

She would have been a teenager when they last had contact. “Were they not in favor of your becoming an officer?”

“You could say that. They were very religious. Pilgrims, actually. I never understood the draw of that kind of life, even then.”

“Ah.” He ate more of the savory fowl. “That explains your lack of faith. You rebelled.”

Her mouth tightened suddenly. She lifted the wineglass to her lips to hide her reaction, but he’d caught it all the same. She didn’t like revealing much about herself. Aye, but he’d find out more, bit by bit. He was a patient man. When good things crossed his path, he reached out and grabbed them. He was willing to wait until they grabbed him back.

“How did you come by the name of Finnar Rorkken?” she asked, clearly wanting to shift the focus from her to him. “It’s a fine name, strong and uncomplicated. Did the children who rescued you think of it?”

“Believe it or not, it’s my real name. It’s all I have that’s all mine. It’s why I’ve never failed to keep it honorable.”

“So that’s why you let yourself be known as the Scourge of the Borderlands?”

“I thank the Coalition for that one.” He grinned. “I kept it because I liked it.”