Soulwalker (15 page)

What are they saying?

I can’t hear, sister.
Rya automatically started to cross the semi-shadowed floor to get closer to the muted conversation. Instead of feeling Rya’s essence slip away, Tarris felt the opposite: her shadow sustained her strength with each invisible step. What was going on? Tarris desperately wanted to know what had changed in Rya, but that was a question for another day.

The voices in the room grew louder and became more pronounced.

“She found the camera, sir.”

“How did that happen?” The speaker’s voice expressed displeasure.

“We’re not sure, sir. There was an explosion in the apartment.”

Rya edged closer to the half shadows and shifted into the dimness. Her form held true, and she blended into the background. She was invisible.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“Prime. She knows about us now. What can we do?” Derille pleaded.

“She is not to interfere, you hear me?”

Rya finally had a chance to look into the lit room to observe a man facing a large screen.

Tarris couldn’t believe the massive strides Rya had taken. What the hell happened? She wished she had someone to talk to about it, but there was no one she could trust. Rya, her assassin, had stepped into the light, albeit muted light, but light just the same. And she was still whole. This was monumental… and frightening. Had this accident, or whatever it was, made Rya into something more?

The vision before her gave her pause. Tarris saw Derille’s back as he addressed the man on the large screen. It was Prime Sholter, but he looked a little different and vaguely familiar. His on-screen persona was much more commanding and charismatic. This side of the Prime was more… she wasn’t quite sure what was different. Cold? Scheming? Dangerous? He was probably all those things and more. She mentally added amoral to that list after what he had done to her.

The conference between the two men wasn’t unusual, after all Derille was part of the Prime’s upper cabinet, but their discussion was. They were talking about her and the camera. So Derille knew everything.

Tarris opened the gate and entered, ignoring everything but the front door. It was probably foolish to confront her enemy like this, but betrayal after betrayal had heaped up at her feet and she didn’t care about her safety anymore.

She pounded the door with her fist. She allowed the pain to seep into her and take away some of the numbness. Nothing in her life made sense anymore—like she was living in some twilight world full of distortions and mistruths.

The door slid open, revealing the source of her ire. Maken Derille. The man who claimed to be her friend. “Ah, Tarris. Good to see you. Come in. Come in.”

As soon as the door closed, Tarris reached for the back of her neck to allow the color tint to drain away and reveal her natural whiteness. She wanted the Administrator to remember what she was.

She followed the portly man to his living room and casually gazed at the silent screen on the wall. The screen was blank, but it wouldn’t have surprised her if the Prime was on cloak and would listen to their every word. Not that she cared. Her words were as much for him as for the man standing in front of her.

“This is a surprise. Is it in reference to the unit being suspended?” Derille asked with such sincerity that, if she didn’t know the truth, she would have believed him.

“Let’s cut out this crap, Maken.” She watched him wince at his name with some satisfaction. “This is yours…” The tiny camera fell onto the small side table and clattered as it hit the top.

“What are you talking about?”

Tarris had to give it to him. He kept up the charade despite the evidence. “You tell the Prime to stay out of my life.” She turned on her heel and started to walk out, her black coat fanning out like a cloak.

“I don’t understand, Tarris. I thought we were friends.”

“So did I, you son of a bitch.”

“But what happened?”

“That happened!” She pointed at the broken device on the table, “You had my trust I until I found out what you were, Maken.” Again he cringed. He obviously didn’t like her using his first name.
Screw him.
“You’re a lying, cheating, sorry excuse for a human being, Maken. A lousy politician.”

He smiled. “Well I am a politician. You got that right.”

“Don’t play word games with me, Administrator. I’ve done nothing to deserve this.” Tarris strode to her quarry, grabbed a handful of shirt, and pulled Derille toward her. “Why, Maken? Why?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She could see he was valiantly trying to hold onto the lie.

“I don’t care whether you admit it or not, Maken. Tell them to back off.” Her fist let go of the material, and she turned to leave.

He didn’t respond until she was nearly at the doorway. “Or what?”

Her ice blue eyes stared at him over her broad shoulder, pinning the man in place. “If I find any more evidence that I’m being watched, I walk away.” With that she left.

Rya remained where she had been. She had sensed Tarris’s agitation and it took a great deal of strength to stop herself from going to her sister’s aid. She had a job to do, and she would remain at her post until Tarris called her home. Long moments after Tarris had gone, the conversation began anew.

“She was just here,” Derille said.

“And?”

“She’s threatening to walk if we interfere further.”

“It seems that your use to her is no longer needed, Maken.”

“So it seems, sir. What do we do now?”

“For the moment, we don’t want to lose such a valuable asset. Let her think we’re acquiescing to her demands, but I want that observation to continue. She may still be useful.”

The image faded on the screen, and Derille emerged from the living room. He stepped into the small lift to the upper floors, unaware that he had passed Tarris’s warrior. If Rya possessed lips, she would have smiled.

Chapter 7

The return journey was less eventful than the trip to Derille’s home. Tarris had waited outside the gate for Rya’s return, and she walked home with some purpose, keeping to the shadows. She was in no mood for another confrontation.

By the time she reached her apartment, she was cranky. She scanned her wrist over the infrared and stepped through the doorway as it slid open. Only by instinct did she stop Asher from hitting her.

“Don’t scare me like that!” Asher said.

“Relax.” Tarris felt it was easier to tell her to relax than it was to do so herself.

“So, how did it go?”

“I found him, we met, and I left. End of story.” But Tarris’s tight stance told a whole lot more.

“Take off your clothes.”

“I beg your pardon?” Heat traveled up Tarris’s chest to her face. “Did you say…?”

“Yes, take off your clothes,” Asher repeated.

Slowly she complied but waited for some sort of ambush by Asher. “And why am I taking these off?”

“You really need to get out more,” Asher said in a teasing tone. “I’ll give you a backrub.”

“A backrub?”

“Don’t you know anything, Trooper?” A hand came up and she stopped. “All right. All right. No more teasing. The backrub will ease your back muscles, and removing your clothes will also give me access to give you another injection.”

Tarris hated injections. While she was no stranger to them by any means, she only tolerated them. She eyed Asher and wondered how far she needed to undress to satisfy the woman. When she stopped at her underwear and the suit, a finger wiggled in the air.

“Keep going.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” Asher waved her finger at the underwear. “Come on, come on.”

Tarris slowly complied. She wasn’t quite sure this was all necessary. “I don’t know…” Asher disappeared into the bathroom to find her supplies. Since when did a backrub have anything to do with medicine? Sure, it would feel nice, but she had better things to do than indulge Asher’s whims.

Tarris was about to tell her to forget it when she spotted Asher standing in the bathroom door, a bottle of lotion in one hand and her injector in the other. But it was the gentle smile on Asher’s face that melted Tarris’s resolve to be strong.

Tarris dragged her limp body up the bed and clumsily rolled over onto her stomach. She buried her head in her folded arms. She couldn’t look at Asher while she moved. Being so vulnerable was not in her nature. After all, she had been pushed and prodded by the best in the medical world. Why was it such a problem now?

Her skin flinched when Asher's soft hands touched her back. Asher slowly kneaded tired and aching muscles into submission. Something cold hit her back and pooled into a small lump. “Wha’s that?” Tarris’s words slurred as the massage took hold of her.

“Just some lotion.” Asher kneaded the cream into Tarris's tight flesh. The tension eased with the warmed cream as it melted into the deeper tissue. Tarris released a sigh.

While Tarris was relaxed and dozing, Asher attended to her medical needs. She administered the medispray and encouraged its dispersal with another quick massage. She applied a special paste to the scar and spread it with her finger until it disappeared. As a final step, she lowered her lips and kissed the spot.

“Why did you do that?”

“You felt it?” Asher asked hopefully.

“Sure, but it’s above my break. You can try lower down if you want.”

Asher’s lips brushed the skin lower down, right on the dimple above Tarris’s right ass cheek. “How about that?” she whispered seductively.

“Hmmm…” When Tarris hesitated, Asher wondered whether something had indeed happened. “No, of course not.”

“How about this?” Asher moved her lips slowly up Tarris’s back and placed kisses along her spine.

“Hmmm…” The sound rumbled deep in Tarris’s throat and a dreamy smile crossed her lips. “Much better.” When those wandering lips latched onto her earlobe, her eyes flew wide open. “Wow!”

“So, my dear Trooper…”

“You don’t have to do this now that the camera’s broken.”

“I know,” Asher whispered, “but I want to.”

“You do?” Tarris asked. “Could you just… you know… hold me instead?”

“Sure.” Asher smiled. “I can do that.” She made herself comfortable on the bed and helped Tarris into her arms.

Tarris swept up a blanket over both of them and immersed herself in the warmth of the woman underneath her. This was what had been missing from her life, the comfort of another human being. Corman would have argued that point, but Tarris had always considered herself human; a special human, sure, but a human nonetheless.

As her soul bathed in the careful attentions, Asher’s hand rose to stroke her hair. Memories flooded back to her childhood as she tried to remember such a tender moment as this. But she couldn’t. Her mother had been attentive and nurturing, but Tarris never once felt embraced in a loving cuddle.

It was strange, now that she thought about it. She had always just accepted that as part of their relationship. She had known no other loving interaction, so for her that was normal. Asher had now shown her what could be, and Tarris realized that the relationship between her and her mother had been somewhat clinical, almost distant.

Tarris dozed off to sleep in the arms that encircled her.

She awoke later that night, with Asher's steady breath blowing across the top of her head. Her instincts wanted to pull back, but she forced herself to relax and stay where she was. She recognized that her heart cried out for the attention, and she was eager to grant its wish. Here she could let her guard down and be human; she could enjoy those human emotions that had been denied her.

Rya pulsed gently inside her with a new vibrant energy that flowed through her system. Something had changed. Tarris twitched violently as pain shot down one leg.

The motion woke Asher. “What?” She tried to sit up, but Tarris’s weight kept her pinned to the mattress. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes blinked a few times.

“Pain. Oh! Ahhh!” The violent twinge robbed Tarris of coherent speech. Just as she fumbled around to reach her medipatch, the ache faded away. She slumped against the soft squishy body underneath her. “Sorry,” she murmured.

“What’s going on?” Asher struggled to slip the dead weight off the top of her.

“Light.” Tarris’s instruction activated the overhead light. She drew in a great gulp of air and blew it out forcefully. “That hurt.”

“Pain? Where?” Asher slipped her hands over Tarris’s body.

“My leg.” Asher reached for Tarris’s left leg. “No, the other one.”

“Hmmm, interesting.”

“Meanwhile, I’m trying to stop my heart jumping out of my chest, let alone Rya…”

“I get the point. Sorry.” Asher showed some concern at Tarris's discomfort. “Is it still hurting?”

“It’s stopped, for now.” Blood red starbursts exploded behind her eyelids, echoing the eruption of stabbing pain that had ambushed her.

Asher’s hand slid down her leg. “Can you feel this?”

Tarris waited some moments before answering in the hope that something would eventually happen. “No.” She looked up at Asher. “But that could change… right?”

“Of course, right.”

Tarris lay awake the rest of the night in the hope that something would change, but it was uneventful. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. She would do just about anything to be able to walk again, but the searing agony that shot through her earlier in the night gave her cause for concern. Not that she was afraid. No, she was a member of the Special Black Shadow Corps, and they knew no fear. Justifying it to herself as concern seemed to satisfy her stoic nature.

In the morning, Tarris got a nudge from Asher. “Get dressed and let’s go for a walk.”

“Are you trying to distract me?” Tarris gazed at her accusingly.

“Am I that transparent?” Asher didn’t even try to deny it.

“Yes. But you’re right. I can’t help but think about my legs. Any idea where you would like to go?”

Asher looked through the window to the outside world. As usual it was overcast and windy. “Somewhere warm.”

Tarris got dressed, occasionally glancing at Asher standing by the window. She seemed to be in a world of her own even though her gaze was aimed straight at Tarris. “You ready to go?”