Queen of Swords (6 page)

Because it wouldn’t stop there.

No, he wasn’t the type of man you could kiss and waltz away from. He was the type who you kissed and then next thing you knew, you were naked, sweaty, and doing things considered illegal on some planets. And being with him would be good. Universe-shattering good. Ophelia shivered. “Back off. Now.”

For half a second she thought—hoped—he wouldn’t listen. “Hold very, very still.”

She obeyed without thinking, eyes widening when he went to his knees in front of her. Oh Lady. But Boone just patted her down, the very picture of efficiency, taking both knives in her boots and the laser tucked in the back of her waistband. He stood, stepping back. “Sit down. We need to talk.”

At least he missed the bracelet-knife on her wrist. The thick metal band lay cool against her skin, just waiting for her to push the button that would snap it into a knife.

Ophelia got three steps toward the small table before she heard the door slide shut. She spun around in time to see the palm lock flash red. The rat bastard was gone. And he’d locked her in.

Chapter Six

Boone turned away from the newly locked door, and nearly ran over Gee. “Why are you loitering out here?”

Gee peered around him at the red palm lock. They both winced when something large hit the door and a shriek sounded. “She’ll kill you.”

“She already tried.” Boone fingered his broken nose.

“Nah. That was just her messing around. Have you seen the way she moves? Killer, bred and true.”

“Her pop’s a former lieutenant of Sanctify.” Boone strode past Gee and headed for the common room. They stored minor first aid equipment there. Enough to fix his nose, at least.

Gee kept pace easily despite his shorter legs. “That would do it. How’d one of them end up with a Diviner?”

How indeed? “You think he’d know better.”

The Evarven laughed. “So what are you going to do with her?”

The image of Ophelia, naked and spread out before him, flashed in his mind. But there would be none of that now, if ever. She was so pissed, she would definitely try to kill him the next time they came face-to-face. “I don’t know.”

“You had better not do something we’ll both regret.” The Evarven paused, as if weighing his next words. “I like her. She reminds me of my Marcy.”

Boone shuddered. The comparison wasn’t inaccurate, although Ophelia was a hell of a lot more attractive than the wizened female Evarven. But both would string up any man unfortunate enough to take a wrong step in their presence. “Don’t say that.”

The triplets were playing cards when he and Gee swept into the room. Boone ignored their startled looks and went directly to the first aid kit. He popped two pain pills and sighed. “Gee. I need your help.” The last time he set it himself, it healed crooked.

“Always a pleasure, Cap’n.”

“I’ll just bet it is.” Boone went to one knee in front of the smaller man. “Just do—Aah!” His vision grayed alarmingly before the world settled back into place. “Damn it, man, you didn’t have to enjoy it so much.”

“Then what would be the point?” Gee slapped a patch on his nose, making Boone’s eyes water. “Don’t be passing out on me, Cap’n.”

“You’re such a little shit,” Boone muttered as he staggered to his feet to find the triplets watching him with amused expressions on their faces. Assholes, all of them.

Hadriel raised an eyebrow, his hands flying into words too fast for Boone to keep up. He started to rub his nose and thought better of it. “You’ll have to go slower. I’m not as quick on the uptake as Jenny.”

The triplets exchanged a glance and grinned. This time it was Caeden who signed.
Is there anything we can do for you?

There wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do, and he had no one to blame but himself. “No. Thank you for your concern but I’m fine.” Even as he spoke, the pain receded to a manageable level. “Enjoy your game.”

Gee followed him back to the crew quarters. Boone stopped and glared down at the Evarven. “What are you doing?”

“Watching the show, what else?” Gee’s grin widened. “Are you going to let her stew or try to talk some sense into her?”

Talking sense wouldn’t work, but he found himself reluctant to let Ophelia sit and stew. Who knew what sort of trouble she could cook up? “Go find something to fix, Gee. Like the intercom. The damn thing keeps acting up.”

Gee shrugged. “Fine. Don’t blame me when she cuts off your head and eats those pretty gray eyes.”

“We aren’t Evarven. I seriously doubt she’d go through the trouble of eating them.”

“If you say so.” Gee ambled down the hall, laughter trailing behind him.

Boone turned to what used to be Ophelia’s cabin and keyed open the door. He sat on the bed and let out the sigh that had been building in him ever since he locked her in his cabin. The move sent up a cloud of scent that was pure Ophelia—flowery and sweet and completely at odds with her personality. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, wishing he could wrap himself up in it. Damn, but it would have been so much easier if he didn’t admire her, didn’t find her bizarre combination of strength and vulnerability intriguing. He could have caged her without a second thought until this thing with Kristian was done. Hells, he might have even used her as Kristian had intended, bargaining with her family for weapons.

Then again, after meeting her father, probably not.

But it was what a Prince of Hansarda would have done. That’s what the old man would say. And then he would shake his head in disappointment, just as he always did when faced with the inexplicable horror of his second son. Boone would never live up to Kristian’s glowing standard, would never give his father something to be proud of. He refused to play the game, refused to get involved in the backstabbing politics, to court the favor of the members of the Senate Council as Kristian did.

Boone had never been much good with pretty words.

Once upon a time, his big brother felt the same way. Growing up, Kristian never hesitated to step between Boone and the old man. To protect him. But then their mothers died and everything changed. The boy he knew and trusted disappeared, replaced by the sadist.

And Boone was left at his mercy for years.

He rolled his shoulders. If only shrugging off the memories were as easy. It was ancient history. He’d grown up and learned how to take care of himself, had even taken over the role of protector for Jenny.

His gaze fell on the small box sitting on the floor near his feet. Her thrice-damned cards. The old Diviner he’d met when transporting colonists kept her cards close, hadn’t set them down even to eat. While Boone was pretty sure Ophelia hadn’t been carting this box to her meals, he knew they were important to her. Which meant he’d have to give them to her if she was going to be locked away for an extended period of time.

Scooping up the box, he refused to think about his motivations. He was only taking her the damned cards so she wouldn’t go completely crazy. It had nothing to do with wanting to see her again. Truly, it didn’t.

Everything was quiet as he approached the cabin. Too quiet. He tried to tell himself she’d just calmed down and stopped shrieking, but the hairs along the back of his neck rose. Adrenaline pumped through his body and Boone found himself in a fighting stance without any memory of getting there. When he reached for the knife he kept in his boot, he knew he was in trouble.

This wasn’t supposed to be a battle. This was just one woman.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Boone slapped the palm lock and strode through the door. The only warning he received was an exhale, almost perfectly silent. He dove to the floor, the box flying from his hand as he rolled. A knife embedded itself in the floor where his head had been. A very large knife.

Where in the seven hells had she hidden that?

He kicked but Ophelia was ready for him, diving over his outstretched legs in a ridiculously graceful move. She punched him in the ribs and then she was on top of him, straddling his chest and holding her knife dangerously close to his left eye. “Don’t move.”

Boone froze, and not just because he was in danger of losing his depth perception. Their current position was identical to one they’d used that night, give or take some clothes. Thinking about sex while she held his death in her eyes was a token of just how far gone he was.

Jenny would be so amused.

When it became obvious she wasn’t going to kill him immediately, Boone extended his arms over his head and stretched, rubbing against her a little more than he had to.

Ophelia grabbed his chin and waved the knife in his face. “I said don’t move, asshole.”

And, just like that, all thoughts of sex were gone, and he was ten years younger, tied to a wall while Kristian went to work on his back with a blade just like the one she held. The pain was unbearable, going on and on until all he could do was scream. His father came in and, instead of punishing Kristian for being a sadistic freak, he gave a nod of approval. The next day he officially declared Boone’s half brother heir to the throne.

A strangled squeak brought him back to the present. Boone blinked down at Ophelia, who was now beneath him. He had her wrists pinned above her head in a punishing grip, but the only signal of her pain level was a slight quivering of her bottom lip. Instantly, Boone let go and scrambled off of her, not stopping until his back hit the bed.

She sat up, started to tuck her arms to her chest, aborting the motion halfway through. The knife was behind her, where it must have fallen when he flipped her. Shit. Boone tried to shake off the lingering terror demanding he remove the threat before she could hurt him again. “Don’t go for the knife. Please.”

Ophelia froze in the process of inching backward, giving him a hard look. Before she could say anything, he cut in, “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, you said that right before you locked me in here,” she snarled. She climbed to her feet, and he could see her shaking from where he sat. Godsdamnit, but this wasn’t going at all like he planned. But, really, what had he expected? That she’d be so thankful for the return of her cards, she’d fall into bed with him?

Yes
, a small part of him whispered. He was a damn fool for even thinking it.

Instead, all he’d gotten was an attack and a flashback to a moment in his life he’d love to forget. Boone swallowed past his dry throat, trying to get his emotions back under control. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one on this ship is.”

She laughed, the sound so jaded it made his heart crack a bit. “Yeah, because men kidnap women for noble purposes all the time. So, who are you working for?” Ophelia cocked her head to the side, scanning Boone as if seeing him for the first time. “It’s not Sanctify. You don’t have the zealot gleam.”

Boone didn’t bother to hide his shudder. Sanctify was one of the monsters of the universe, feared by all but the most radical of speciesists. Their systematic takeover of more and more planets was terrifying, sending entire governments into a panic to avoid the same fate. All while the Star Council did nothing.

On the positive side, at least she didn’t think him capable of that.

Ophelia didn’t seem to notice his reaction. “Then who? Tell me you’re not a common kidnapper, thinking to use me against my family?” The derision in her voice had Boone coloring despite his best intentions.

“No. I’m not a common anything. Which you already know.” Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut and stop baiting her? The woman was scared enough without amping up the sexual tension. But he couldn’t help it. The warmth from her presence chased away the cold eating at the edges of his mind. He needed some of her fire to keep it from consuming him entirely. Boone couldn’t afford to have a breakdown right now, not when he needed his wits about him the most.

Oddly enough, the innuendo seemed to calm her. She actually laughed. If the sound came off harsh, well, it was better than nothing. “Like I keep saying, Butch. You weren’t that memorable.”

She knew his name, was just using the other to piss him off.

It worked.

“What a shame. I remember you.” He paused, waiting until she looked at him. “Do you want me to describe the way you writhed every time I licked your—”

Ophelia made a cutting motion. “Stop, just stop. I get it. You remember every detail I missed in my drunken blackout.”

Boone blinked. He’d assumed she was throwing around the lack of memories to annoy him. Was it possible she truly didn’t remember? The thought hurt more than it should have. Not to mention it being completely irrational. Hells, he hadn’t realized she was blackout drunk. They’d flirted for some time and her words barely slurred. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. I don’t joke about sex.”

He snorted. “Then you’re missing out.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Ophelia froze. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

Well, yes, but probably not for the reason she suspected. “Doing what?”

“Riling me up. Damn it.” She rolled her shoulders, bringing her hands halfway into a defensive position. “Who are you and where are you taking me?”

So they were back to business and on solid ground once more. Pity. Ophelia chased away
his
demons better than any alcohol-filled night. “I told you already. I’m Boone. I’m taking you to Psrida.”

“Psrida.” Her gaze went distant. “Why are you taking me to a Far Reach colony planet?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?”

Ophelia made a sound like a cat who’d just been thrown in the tub. “That’s not an answer.”

“No, it’s not.” How much to tell? There wasn’t a whole lot she could do at this point, but he found himself reluctant to go into great detail. “You can’t marry Kristian.”

“What are you talking about?”

Boone cleared his throat. He couldn’t tell her about his connection with the prince, couldn’t stand the thought of her lumping him in with that monster, but he could let her know a little more of the situation. “Right now, he’s only heir apparent. If you marry him, your entire business is at his disposal.”

“Never.” She said it with such finality, he almost believed her.

“It doesn’t matter what you think or want. Under Hansardian law, everything becomes equal as soon as the vows are said. You wouldn’t have a choice.”

“It wouldn’t hold up under Keiluna’s laws.”

“Since you’d live on Hansarda, those are the laws you have to hold to.” Or at least that was the theory the Star Council upheld. Still, it wouldn’t matter. Once she was in Kristian’s grasp, there was no way she’d escape.

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s life.” And it was enough information for now. Boone nodded to the door behind her. “There’s a bathroom back there with a sans shower and I’m sure you’ve seen the small InstaChef. I’ll be back in when we hit dirtside.” He went out the door at a pace the uninformed might have called running. Boone called it being prudent. Ophelia’s shriek of rage echoed through the ship as if one of the old-world banshees had taken up residence.