Queen of Swords (9 page)

Ophelia made a show of scanning the woman’s deep red shirt and black pants. They were fitted and serviceable but the fabric cost an arm and a leg, especially with the embroidery along the edges. The albino was thin and she didn’t have tits worth a damn, but there were muscles pushing against the fabric. “Bold words, albino. You couldn’t handle me.”

The rat bastard chose that moment to laugh. “Ladies, ladies. Can’t we all just get along?”

The albino cocked her head to the side and gave Ophelia the same scan she’d just been on the other end of. “No, Boone, I don’t think we can. If this is who I think it is, you’re in serious trouble.”

Ophelia smiled, but it must have been more feral than sweet because the albino jerked back. She’d have to work on that. “I don’t like it when people talk about me like I’m not sitting right next to them. Spill, bitch.”

The albino stood up just as Ophelia’s stomach lurched. She half stood, but her stomach was several steps ahead of her. With a pained gurgle, Ophelia leaned over and puked on the albino’s boots. It happened so fast, the albino didn’t have a chance to move. Ophelia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Embarrassment sent warmth spreading across the back of her neck, but she refused to show weakness and apologize. Taking a deep breath, she shored up her attitude. “Oops. Were those real leather? They must have cost a fortune.”

The albino cursed. She turned on Boone, pointing her tiny finger at him. “Control your woman.”

“Now, Sadie.” Boone wasn’t grinning anymore, but Ophelia caught the glint of amusement in his eyes, and she knew she wasn’t going to like what he said next. “She’s not my anything.”

Ophelia stood, the top of her head feeling like it wasn’t attached to her body. “That wasn’t very nice.” Why was she arguing? She didn’t want to be his anything. And if he’d called her
his
, she would have figured out a way to puke on him, too.

Then what Boone called the albino registered. Sadie. Combined with her coloring—or lack thereof—it was too much of a coincidence. “You’re the Harpy Queen.” Which meant she was an Abura-Sumashi female—the only one who actually left their planet. It made her almost as rare as Ophelia. She was damn near legendary in the world of smugglers, gunrunners, and thieves, known for her volatile temper and lack of morals when enough credits were involved.

Ophelia refused to be intimidated by this tiny woman’s reputation and smiled sweetly. “I can’t believe you named your ship after yourself. Talk about hubris.”

The Harpy Queen—Sadie—glared at her. “This
is
her, the gunrunner’s daughter. Godsdamnit Boone, but sometimes you are an idiot.”

He went still. There was something going on here, something b
igger than Boone kidnapping Ophelia. Maybe now she’d get some answers. Ophelia leaned back on the couch and decided she could be silent for a few minutes. Maybe.

“What are you talking about, Sadie?” The threat of violence in Boone’s tone made Ophelia twitch. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to run for the hills or drag him to bed. The indecision no doubt said something unflattering about her.

Sadie wiped her boots on the bottom of the couch. “Stop reacting and think. What in the seven hells would Kristian want with someone like her”—she flung her hand in Ophelia’s direction—“when he doesn’t want to expand Hansarda’s interaction with aliens?”

He wouldn’t.

Ophelia frowned, thinking fast. The fact the prince was a Sanctify sympathizer wasn’t something well-known. Hells, she hadn’t known about it until three seconds ago. So why was he offering to marry her, a Diviner? It didn’t make any sense.

Boone lurched to his feet. “Spit it out, Sadie. Now.”

“He was giving you the runaround. Letting you think he wanted her so you’d be distracted while he made his move. And he knows you so well that he was right—you went for it. Damn it, Boone. Now he’s got all the power and you have none.” Her ice queen expression dropped for half a second. The albino actually cared about Boone. It made Ophelia want to gouge out her eyes. “He’s going to kill you—you and all of your people.”

Ophelia watched as Boone’s face went from red to pale and back to red. “Does he know where we are now, where the others are?”

Sadie shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is he killed the king, and now he’s gearing up to come for you. The only thing holding him back is preparing for some kind of council.”

“The Senate’s Council.” Boone dropped back to the couch and ran his hands through his hair. “We don’t have much time.”

“
Yeah, well. Now you know.” Sadie moved around the table and toward the door, leaving vomit tracks. She glanced over her shoulder, met Ophelia’s gaze, and then walked back, leaning over the back of Boone’s couch. “Call me when this is over.”

And then the bitch kissed him.

Ophelia’s breath hissed out, and then she was on her feet and going over the table for the albino. It would have worked out a lot better if her knees hadn’t given out. Ophelia went down with a surprised
oomph
, tripping over the table, and face-planting in Boone’s lap. By the time she sat back, Sadie was gone.

“You know, you just made my day.”

She glanced up at Boone. “I’ll just bet.” Her stomach mewled, begging for food it wouldn’t keep down. “I think I’m dying.”

The asshat rolled his eyes. “No one poisoned you.”

“Yes, they did.” There was no other explanation. But if Gee didn’t do it—and Boone swore up, down, and sideways he hadn’t—there weren’t many others who could have. Not if he’d brought her food straight from the InstaChef to her. For it to even be possible, they would have had to poison it before it was even put in the machine. Which would mean Ophelia wasn’t necessarily the intended victim. The whole thing made her head hurt.

She pushed the problem from her mind and frowned at Boone. His gray eyes were distant, focused on something only he could see. “What’s going on? What does the prince have to do with any of this?”

His sigh shuddered out. “I suppose it can’t hurt for you to know now.”

Ophelia made an effort to sound calm and controlled when all she wanted to do was shake the answers out of him. “Know what?”

“Kristian—the prince—is my brother. And he’s just played me for a fool.”

Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly. Boone took her so the prince couldn’t. Except even that didn’t make sense. Her family was powerful, but not
that
powerful. They supplied the guns to rebels or governments, anyone who worked against Sanctify, but they were a relatively small business in the grander scheme of things. They only housed seven ships, wouldn’t have been on the map at all if not for Mac’s inventions.

“While I was researching you, hunting you down, he was moving to make himself king. He killed the old man.” The last was whispered, so low she wasn’t sure he meant to say it aloud. “Now my people will pay for my stupidity. And you, you will go home.”

Ophelia blinked. “I’m going home?”

“My sister is flying in within a week. She’ll take you and the
Psyche
back to Keiluna.”

It was ridiculous to be disappointed he wasn’t the one taking her home, and even more ridiculous to be disappointed he was sending her home at all. Ophelia bit her lip. “Okay.”

Boone stared at her for a long moment, as if he’d asked a question she didn’t know the answer to, and then he rose to his feet. “I have things that need to be done. If I don’t lock the door, can you stay out of trouble?”

Where would she go? He was sending her home. Exactly what she wanted. Right. Ophelia shrugged, hoping it looked unconcerned. “Sure. I still feel like shit anyway.”

“You weren’t poisoned.” For a moment, it looked as if he would smile. But he didn’t. “Good night.”

She watched him walk away, feeling very small and lost. “Good night, Boone.”

Chapter Ten

It was a long time later when Ophelia was finally able to force herself off the floor. She walked into the bedroom and picked up her box. Gee had brought it and her other belongings—minus her weapons—after Boone left.

For the first time since she could remember, shuffling her cards didn’t comfort her. They were just cards, with no magical importance. Ophelia cut the deck and dealt out three cards. Without pausing to think about it, she flipped them over, one after another.

And then she stared.

“It’s not possible.”

But obviously it was. The Fool. The Wheel of Fortune. The Ten of Cups.

“No. No, no, no, no.” Ophelia stuck the cards back into the deck in random places and then shuffled again and again. This time she didn’t even bother putting them facedown first.

And there they were. Those same three cards.

For some bizarre reason, it made her want to cry. So much had happened, so much had changed, and still she hadn’t started the journey. Damned Lady and her damned messages. Ophelia sniffled a little bit as she gathered the cards up and shoved them into the box. If she wasn’t supposed to marry the prince, then who was her happily ever after with?

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she shoved it away. Whatever the end result of this journey, she obviously was a long ways from reaching it if she hadn’t started. Ophelia went to the link set up against the wall near the doorway. If Boone was serious about letting her go, then he wouldn’t have had the hotel cut off her ability to call out. And what kind of hotel had locks on the outsides of their doors, anyways?

She knew she was being irrational, knew being angry over this reading was stupid because it wouldn’t change anything, but Ophelia couldn’t help it. She wanted to break something.

Instead she called home.

The Lady must have been smiling on her—for once—because it was her mother who answered, Papa nowhere in sight. “Hello, daughter.”

“You don’t look all that surprised to hear from me.” Damn, that came out a bit too accusing. It wasn’t Mama’s fault Ophelia’s life was going to the hells in a handbasket.

“Tell me.”

Ophelia filled her mother in on what had happened since they last spoke. Mama’s eyes sharpened at the mention of her being poisoned, but she didn’t comment. The more Ophelia talked, the calmer she felt, until the anger leeched away and left her wrung out. “And this damn reading hasn’t changed. No matter what I do, it doesn’t change. Shouldn’t it be different?”

Mama smiled and it was so bittersweet, it made Ophelia’s bones ache. “Sometimes, daughter, for the big decisions in life, the Lady goes out of her way to get our attention. This is one of those times.”

“But…I don’t know what to do. He’s sending me home.” Which was hardly the journey her reading seemed to indicate.

“And when have you ever settled with being told what to do?” Mama held up a hand before she could speak. “I am not telling you the right course, merely pointing out a fact. You should think long and hard about this before you make a decision.”

That wasn’t what Ophelia wanted to hear. It would have been so much simpler if Mama merely told her what to do. Okay, probably not. And she might have done the opposite just to be contrary. Ah hells. “So, what now?” It was a dumb question. She wanted to go home. It was all she wanted ever since she saw the damn reading in the first place.

“That, daughter, is entirely up to you.” Again came the bittersweet smile. “But there is something I can help you with. Try eating lightly salted grain legumes, whichever kind sounds best to you. And stay away from synth products and alcohol.”

Ophelia’s stomach lurched at the thought. “I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m not really in the mood to drink.”

“It will work out, daughter, one way or another.”

“I know. I just wish things weren’t so complicated.” She swallowed and her face screwed up at the taste. “I need to brush my teeth.” Again. “I’ll try to keep you updated.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, Mama, I love you too.” The call disconnected and Ophelia wandered into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth twice before the taste was completely gone, and then took a sans shower until she couldn’t smell the sickness seeping from her pores.

She crawled into bed, not bothering with clothes, and fell into exhausted sleep before she could think better of it.

…

There was someone in the room.

Ophelia reached for the knife she’d gotten along with the dinner she didn’t finish. It wasn’t nearly as sharp as she would have liked, but it was better than nothing. She squinted into the shadows, seeing the telltale movement in the adjoining room. There were no lights on but, from the size of the shadow and heaviness of the tread, it was a man.

Cobwebs still coating her brain, Ophelia slipped out of bed and moved along the wall, keeping low. The intruder was rummaging through the desk set up in the far corner of the room. What he thought he’d find was beyond her. What kind of idiot stored important things in a hotel desk? But it didn’t change the fact that this person was not supposed to be here. Being an inept intruder didn’t make him any less an intruder.

When she was close enough, Ophelia sprang, jumping on the man, her stolen knife resting against his throat. He gave a grunt of surprise and then she was on her back with her arms pinned above her head, a very familiar body on top of her.

“What are you doing?” Boone growled. “I already told you I’d take you home.”

Ophelia was still trying to process how she’d gotten on the floor in the first place. She wondered what she’d have to do to get him to teach her that move. “I thought you were an intruder.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, well, I know that now.” It was too weird, laying here naked with him on top of her, having a relatively normal conversation. “You can get off me now.”

“I’m comfortable.”

“Oh.” Why did she always seem to lose her words around him? This was getting pathetic. But, if she were going to be perfectly honest, she was comfortable too. Boone’s grip loosened, his thumbs playing along the inside of her wrists. She tried and failed to hold back a shiver. “Stop that.”

“You don’t like it?”

That wasn’t the problem and he knew it. “You’re sending me home.” Had she just said that out loud? Damn.

“You’re going home.”

She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but his breath ghosted across her lips. Close, very close. “This isn’t smart.”

“Probably not.”

He shifted and then his tongue traced along the shell of her ear, making her eyes cross. “You don’t even like me.”

“Only most of the time.”

That surprised a laugh out of her. Then his lips were on hers and there were no more words. She wanted to give herself up to the kiss, to lose herself in him, but Boone kept it light, nipping along her bottom lip before he finally took it to the depth she wanted. He kissed like he wanted to memorize her taste, but Ophelia was so busy giving him the same treatment, she didn’t have time to think about it.

And, Lady, but he tasted amazing.

Ophelia arched her back, rubbing against him. She pulled back long enough to say, “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Boone laughed and then they were kissing again, one of his hands keeping hold of her wrists while the other moved down her arm, raising goose bumps in its wake. She writhed when he bypassed her breast and cupped her hip, his fingers feathering over her skin.

“Gods, woman, stop doing that.”

“You first.” Was that her voice, all breathy and low? Ophelia was drowning in him and she couldn’t bring herself to care. Boone chuckled and she felt it all the way to her toes.

“Ophelia.”

She saw it coming as if from a great distance and could do nothing to stop it. “What?”

“Do you trust me?”

What was the deal with the trust questions? People could have sex without trusting each other. They did it all the time. Hells, she and Boone had already done it. And that counted, even if she couldn’t really remember. “Boone.”

His hand drifted up to her ribs, not nearly high enough. “Answer the question.”

Ophelia squirmed, trying to get him where she wanted him. But he was solid above her, completely unmovable. As soon as she answered him, he’d leave, just like before. She considered lying for half a second, but immediately discarded the notion. Ophelia didn’t lie. She might omit the hell out of things, but she never lied.

Desperate now, she hooked her right leg around his waist and wriggled against him. He was turned on—she could feel it—but the only reaction he gave was an exhaled hiss and his grip tightening oh so briefly.

“Ophelia. Answer the question.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

“Then I should go.” He started to get up, taking her with him, since her left leg had joined the other, her heels hooked behind his hips. “Let go.”

“Why do you insist on doing this? Why can’t we just have sex? Why do I have to trust you first?” Because that wouldn’t happen. It just wouldn’t. It couldn’t.

Boone sighed and it was such a world-weary sound, she had to fight against the desire to comfort him. “When you know the answer to that question, then we can have sex.” And then the bastard unhooked her legs and climbed to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

Yeah, like that was going to happen.