The Price of Freedom (22 page)

* * * * *

The truce between them was ugly.

Unlike before, she was no longer willing to pretend that everything might turn out all right, to tell herself that once he found Jenner, it would be over. They had arrived at Karos, the very planet where the Celestial Pilgrim had been born and first started sharing his message more than a thousand years earlier.

The worst possible place she could imagine for her child to be born.

They had traveled a long way to get here, out of Saurellian space and half way across the Empire.

All based on a rumor that Jenner had been headed this way. How many more rumors would there be?

Even if this were their last stop, would it be because Jenner was dead, or because they'd been caught?

She had no illusions that the Pilgrims of Karos would show them any mercy.

A wall of ice now stood between them. They still slept together at night, still had sex. Intellectually they were in such different places that they couldn't communicate, but at night their bodies spoke for them in a dance of love and frustrated concern. Sometimes he fell asleep with his hand placed wide over her belly, as if trying to send some kind of message to the tiny baby growing inside. Would that baby live to meet its father?

Now they were in orbit above Karos, and he was ready to put his carefully crafted plan into action.

He would claim to be a messenger from the mining belt, a merchant who had once done business with Jenner. He was passing through on business and was bringing her some money he owed her. It was a plausible enough scheme, according to Jess. He knew the man in question, knew that Jenner had often invested in his trading expeditions. Jess insisted that the man was honorable enough to pay her if given the opportunity, so he doubted that Jenner would suspect anything.

She wanted to scream at him, to force him to give up this foolishness. It was hopeless. Instead, she sat on the couch and watched as he sent a message to the surface from the vid terminal. With any luck, the promise of money would get Jenner's attention. Then he turned to her, his face softening.

"Bethany, I know you have trouble accepting this, but this will be over soon."

She shook her head, unwilling to go through the same argument again. He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. They both knew what would happen next. He would wait for Jenner's response, then track her down on the planet's surface. While he was risking his life in search of vengeance, Bethany would be forced to wait for him on the ship. Caged. Of course, it was probably comfortable enough in there, and she knew that he had programmed the ship's computer to release her if he didn't come back for some reason.

That certainly didn't make it any more tolerable, though.

She would sit there, confined like an animal, waiting for him. Every moment would be an eternity.

Would he return? Once he walked through the door another question would arise. Would he have found Jenner? Would their quest finally be over?

She wasn't even sure they'd be free if he
did
find Jenner. Sometimes it seemed like a part of him was broken; she wondered if he he'd somehow convinced himself that he needed to follow Calla to the grave.

He seemed to think that everything would be all right if he could just find Jenner, but she wasn't that naive. Even if he found her, if he killed her with his bare hands, it still wouldn't bring back his sister. What would he do when he realized that?

He came over and sat down next to her, pulling her over into his lap. She went willingly. Even after spending months with him, the smell of his body, the touch of his skin against hers was enough to make her weak with desire.

She reached up with one hand, allowing her fingers to comb through his hair. The soft strands slid between her fingers, a sensual trailing that stimulated nerves she didn't even know existed. She had never realized how erogenous that small bit of webbing right at the base of her fingers could be…

"Bethany, I don't want to fight with you any more," Jess said, pulled her head against his chest. He tilted his head down, kissing the top of her head tenderly. She crumbled.

"I don't want to fight either," she said. "I just want to be with you. Safe, where we don't have to worry all the time."

"You don't have to worry now," he said. "I'm going to take care of you."

There was no point in talking to him, she thought. He simply didn't understand how vulnerable he was—all three of them were—as long as he continued along this path. So instead of replying, she snuggled up to him, not wanting what might be her last memory of him to be unhappy. As usual, his body reacted to hers. She could feel a distinctive bulge growing along her hip. Things might be a little easier, she thought wryly if his body didn't call to hers like it did. Even when she was angry with him she still craved his touch.

She twisted and turned around, straddling him on the small couch. Her head was on a level with his; she leaned over and kissed him.

She meant it to be a soft kiss, a gentle touching to bring them together slowly. But when her lips came into contact with his mouth, all she could think about was how soon he would leaving her and whether he would return. Pilgrims didn't take kindly to spies.

The need and longing she felt washed over her; she took action. Without pausing to think, she grabbed his head with both hands and crushed his mouth between them, taking his lips roughly, almost angrily. He was hers, dammit, and he didn't even seem to realize it. She needed to show him, she thought suddenly. She needed to mark herself on his body, his spirit, the same way he had marked her. She wasn't his passive vessel. She was his lover, his partner, and he needed to acknowledge that.

The force of her anger surprised her, as did the force of her arousal. She wanted to suck him into her body, squeeze him and take him as he had taken her so many times. When he was down on that planet looking for Jenner he would be remembering Bethany. He responded in kind, his lips fighting with hers for domination. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his body so tightly it was hard to breathe. She pulled her head back, unwilling to give up control. His lips chased hers and she nipped him with her teeth. She bit again, harder this time, and he squawked in surprise and outrage.

"Why did you do that?" he asked. She smiled at him, baring her teeth, then licked her lips deliberately.

"You think you're the one in control here," she said. "But you aren't, Jess. This partnership goes both ways. In bed and out of it."

He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. Her mouth covered his again, tugging and sucking until he moaned his surrender. It was like pouring rocket fuel on coals; she wanted him more than she'd ever anything before in her life. Her nipples were hard, twin points of fire between their bodies, and the feeling of his cock pushing up at her urgently was almost more than she could take.

Reaching down between their bodies, she pushed up the loose skirt she wore and pulled at her undergarment. The damn thing wouldn't slide down her hips with her legs splayed, she realized. She was going to have to get up.

His hand fumbled against hers as he ripped open his pants, then his erection bobbed up between them. She rubbed against it sensuously, the sweet torture of the fabric between them more pain than pleasure.

She lifted herself to pull off the wretched garment that separated them, but his hands found her waist beneath the skirt and held her. They came around the front of her undergarment, and she felt a tug. A ripping sound filled the air, and she was free.

Immediately she slid down, taking him into her body to the hilt. He filled her so much that she shrieked in shock. She was ready for him, but it still came as a surprise to take him so quickly. Delicate membranes stretched, every breath brought new tensions and pressures from within. She moved tentatively and was rewarded by his groan. This was affecting him every bit as much as it was affecting her, she thought with satisfaction. He was hers for the taking.

She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. Everything was suddenly surreal. Here she sat, impaled upon a man she hadn't even known six months before. She was pregnant; he would soon be in danger. Her entire world had changed. Suddenly she felt like crying. It was all so much to deal with, more than she had ever dreamed possible. The sexual drive to possess him, the need to take his body and make it hers that had filled her mere moments earlier, was gone. In its place was a desire for comfort, for the tenderness and understanding she knew he was capable of giving with his body. She let herself fall forward against him, wrapping both arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly from within.

"Jess, please don't leave me," she whispered in his ear. "Please don't make me and the baby wait for you, wondering if you're still alive."

To her shame, she felt tears welling up. She hated crying; hated showing weakness. She had learned early on that to cry was to give your opponent an edge, something her father and her husband had never failed to take advantage of.

Jess was different, though. She felt him stiffen as her mood changed, then his arms wrapped around her and held her close. He seemed unsure of what to do next, but he was trying to comfort her. The simple fact that he cared enough to try made her cry even harder. She was sobbing now, and with every convulsion of tears she squeezed him within. His body was tense beneath hers but she didn't care. All she wanted to do was let out the hurt; the grief over everything that had happened, and the fear she felt whenever she thought of him leaving her to hunt Jenner one more time.

They stayed that was for a long time. Finally her tears slowed, and she realized that he was murmuring quietly to her. It was a soothing noise, as if he were comforting a child. She lifted her head, looking at him through tear-blurred eyes, and snuffled.

"I guess this wasn't really what I had in mind when I jumped you," she said wryly, feeling herself flush. He smiled at her with so much tenderness, her heart clenched.

"Well, I'm good for more than just sex," he replied. He reached up to grasp a strand of her hair, smoothing it back behind one of her ears. "Although the timing could have been better," he added, grimacing and shifting slightly. With a start she realized he was still embedded deep within her. Her eyes widened, and she blushed.

"Sorry, I forgot what we were doing before," she said. He laughed.

"Bethany, sweetheart, that's not the kind of thing a man likes to hear from his woman," he replied lightly. She blushed harder, and shook her head.

"Thank you for understanding," she whispered, and laid her head back down against his shoulder.

He laughed again, and this time she could hear the deep, rich chuckle course through his body. She squeezed him experimentally with her pelvic muscles. His laugh stopped abruptly, and his hips thrust up at her. She responded in kind, wiggling herself on his engorged flesh. The breath came out of his body in a startled
whoomph
; he grabbed her and abruptly twisted. Seconds later her body was under his, lying flat on the couch. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He started thrusting in and out of her with all the energy that had gripped them earlier. She grunted, pulling him into her, wishing there were some way she could keep him there. Why couldn't they just stay like this? Why did he have to go to the surface? He thrust into her again, this time rubbing against her clit.

She shuddered, and other thoughts disappeared. How did he manage to do this to her time after time?

Every stroke brought her a little bit closer to satisfaction. She could smell him, see his strong muscles flexing with each thrust. His entire body was tense and tight; beads of sweat built up on his forehead. She closed her eyes, focusing all her attention inward. The tension was almost unbearable—as if she were filled with a thousand tiny strings, each pulled tight and centered where he pushed inexorably into her.

Each thrust brought him deeper; every motion wound the strings tighter. She was going crazy.

Then it hit Bethany, the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had. It ripped through her body, sending her into convulsions as her nails dug into his shoulders. He shuddered, then groaned as he came with her.

Through the explosion of sensation she could feel his hot seed spurting into her. Again and again his hips bucked against her, until finally he collapsed. They lay there panting for several minutes before a chime caught their attention.

"It's a message from the surface," he said, rolling off her. Still naked, he strode across the room to the vid terminal, pressing a button. She watched in silence as he scrolled through the message. Then he spoke.

"It's Jenner," he said. "She's on the surface, and she wants her money."

Chapter Sixteen

Karos, Home of the Celestial Pilgrim

Here she was, stuck sitting in a cage on a ship on Karos, Bethany thought in disgust. The father of her child was responsible for putting her in that cage, and now he was heading out to kill a woman. There was a good chance she'd never see him again; a good chance that before long Pilgrim guards would come looking for
her
. And when they found her she would be an easy target. He insisted that wasn't going to happen. Of course, he insisted a lot of things, she thought uneasily. She'd believe they were safe when she saw it, and not one moment earlier.

It wasn't fair, she thought, settling down into the chair he'd thoughtfully placed in the cage. All she got to do was sit and wait, while someone else determined her fate. Again.

She reached down to her stomach, laying both hands flat across it. She was still amazed that there was actually a tiny being growing in there. It seemed so unreal to her, even though her body had already started to change in many ways. Her stomach was still almost flat, but there was a difference. It was as if the muscles had relaxed, making way for the new life to come. Her breasts had gotten larger, too. They had been sore at first, but she was getting used to the feeling. Any time now she might start to feel the baby moving.

She murmured softly, rubbing her stomach and thinking of the child. Was it a little boy? Jess seemed to think so. She would prefer a girl, though. A daughter who would grown up strong and proud. A little girl who would choose her own destiny. A young woman who might never marry at all; instead she might become a teacher, or a doctor. Like Bragan.

A sudden chill ran through her, and she whispered the dead man's name. Would Jess still be alive in the morning? If he was, would he still be whole? What if he found Jenner and killed her… Would vengeance give him the satisfaction he was looking for? Or would it leave him empty.

Would he still be the same man when he came back?

Visions of his dead and mangled body filled her mind. Without thinking, she slid out of the chair and knelt on the floor. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands tightly together, silently calling on the Goddess to watch over him and bring him back to her. At first it seemed to help, but then a small voice whispered in her mind's ear. Why would the Goddess care about one man's fate, especially a man bent on vengeance? Was she even listening?

She whispered another prayer. To her disgust, tears of desperation welled up out of her eyes and started running down her face. She wiped them away with one hand and opened her heart to the Goddess once more.

The Goddess was silent.

* * * * *

Jess sat in the darkness, idly cleaning his fingernails with a long, wicked blade. It had taken him so long to find Jenner that he could hardly believe he'd gotten to her so easily. She'd replied to his message, going so far as to invite him to the hostel where she was staying. Now she was his. She would be coming up to her room soon, and when she did, she would see the face of justice. His face.

Calla was dead.

Hari’s words had played through his mind a thousand times since that night on Discovery Station.

Calla's implant had been found in the station’s recycling pit, her body disposed of like so much trash. He should have been able to take care of her. He would have, too, if that bitch hadn't deliberately sold him into slavery in the mining belt. She'd wanted him dead, but she hadn't been willing to simply throw away her investment. No, she'd sold him into what she thought was certain death. She'd tried to kill him, and she'd succeeded in killing his sister.

Now it was time for Jenner to die.

He could hear the stairs outside creak as she heaved her massive form up to her room. It wasn’t as nice as her apartment on Discovery Station, but she was lucky to have made it to Karos at all. Of course, her luck was about to change, he thought with grim humor. She’d survived the Saurellians' manhunt for Pilgrims, but she wouldn’t survive him.

The door opened, and the light from the hallway outlined her form. She sighed heavily, then turned to switch on the light and close the door. His blaster was already raised by the time she caught sight of him.

“Hello,
Mistress
Jenner,” he said tightly, savoring the moment. “I think you should sit down on the bed.”

Jenner did as she was told, her snake’s eyes wide with fright.

“I’d like to draw this out,” Jess said, feeling almost playful now that he finally had her in his grasp.

“I’ve dreamed about this day for years, you know. All those nights you made me come to you when I was younger? You’re going to pay for them now.”

Jenner gave a little moan of fear, and he almost felt pity for her. Almost. Then he thought about Calla’s lifeless corpse and the pity disappeared.

“Unfortunately,” he continued. “I have other business. We’ll make this quick.”

He tossed her a bottle of pills, a lethal concoction specially prepared by the ship's auto-doc. They would kill her, but the medicine itself was common enough. It certainly wouldn't raise eyebrows if anyone examined it.

“I’ve already written a little note goodbye for all your friends,” he said thoughtfully. “About how you’re so filled with guilt you can’t bear to live any longer. I’m prepared to give you a choice. Either take the pills, or I’ll use the knife.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jenner whispered, but she was wrong and she knew it. He could see it in her eyes.

“Oh, I would enjoy it,” he murmured with dark satisfaction. “Which way do you want to go?”

“I’ll take the pills,” she said finally. “I suppose you want to watch?”

“I’ve seen you stuff your face a million times while those around you were hungry,” he replied coldly.

“This time I plan to enjoy the sight."

He stood over her with the blaster as she took the pills, watching carefully to make sure that she swallowed all of them. There was enough in the bottle to kill her ten times over, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

After an hour, he rose to check her pulse. Nothing. Jenner was dead. He waited for the triumph to wash over him, but her death left him feeling hollow. Everything left him feeling hollow, he thought, feeling suddenly exhausted. Everything except for Bethany. She was all he had left.

He went over to the window and opened it silently before crawling out on to the roof. Karos was surprisingly backward, and security was poor. Hardly what he would have suspected from a planet that was home to the Celestial Pilgrim. The man must not have been quite as "celestial" as the Pilgrims liked to believe, he thought. It had been ridiculously easy to break in to the hostel and find Jenner. Escaping was just as easy. Within seconds he had blended into the darkness of the streets.

His ship was parked at the edge of the primitive landing field; the small town where Jenner had taken refuge was too insignificant to have a true space port; he hadn't even had to register a flight path with the planetary controllers. Checking carefully to make sure no one had followed him, he palmed the airlock open and stepped in. It took all of two seconds to reach the door that opened on to the living area.

His eyes flew to her cell in the corner. Bethany was sitting on her chair, watching him with a shadowed face.

He walked across the small room, pulling out the key to open her cage. She stood with dignity, watching his movements.

“Is it done, then?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said tightly. He didn’t want to discuss Jenner with her.

“And did it make you feel good to kill her?” she asked in a mocking tone. “Is Calla alive again?

Have you stopped being a runaway slave?”

Jess glared at her.

“Please,” he said, running a hand through his dark, curly hair. “Please don’t. I just need to hold you tonight. Will you let me?”

She stared at him, as if trying to judge his sincerity. The look on his face must have convinced her, because she dropped her militant stance and came over to him. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his. It was like coming home, and Jess felt himself harden in response. She was the only person who could make him feel anymore.

“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered. “We’re both tired. We’ll think of what to do tomorrow. Tonight let’s just be together.”

“All right,” he said, dropping a kiss on her head. Then she stepped away from him and held out her hand. Taking it, he let her lead him into the bedroom.

* * * * *

Bethany lay back in the bed, one arm thrown over her eyes. She was filled with the sweet, almost liquid lassitude that came after a night of making love. Jess had been fierce with her last night; almost as if he believed that if he only touched her in enough ways, it would make the events of the previous months disappear. She knew better, though. Nothing was going to make his memories go away. Only time could heal his pain.

He'd been like a lost child when he'd returned to the ship. At first she'd felt a sense of relief so profound that she'd wanted to cry. She had been so certain they'd catch him. She'd been told stories of Karos her entire life. It was supposed to be a glorious planet, millions of people united in the dreams and idea of the Celestial Pilgrim, all working together to complete his masterful plan.

Instead, it was a backward, rural place filled with subsistence farmers. There was only one real space port on the whole planet, located near the central temple. The thousands of Pilgrim guardsmen she'd expected didn't exist. Jess hadn't encountered anyone who even seemed to question his presence, let alone cadres of religious zealots.

Karos was just a pathetic, sad little place filled with pathetic and sad people.

After their first, frantic love-making session, he'd left her just long enough to lift the ship into orbit.

Then he was back at her side, sliding into the bed and taking her into his arms. He'd been slow that time, exploring every spot and crevice on her body, slowly stroking her with his lips and hands until she'd cried out, begging for relief. He'd stop, then, right as she was on the peak of ecstasy, only to start again. Finally he'd taken her, pushing them both to a level of they'd never felt before. Her throat was still sore from the cries she'd given. They'd both slipped into sleep, exhausted physically and emotionally.

Now as she lay in bed, she wondered what she would say to him when she got up. Jenner was dead; the quest was over. This was the time where they were supposed to take their child and find some place to settle in peace. But vengeance hadn't given him the peace he'd sought.

Last night he'd screamed in his sleep, alternately calling out for Calla and swearing imprecations against Jenner. When she'd tried to wake him, he'd turned on her, pinning her to the mattress. She'd called out his name and he woke up, confused and horrified at his actions. Then he left her and went to sleep on the couch. She missed his warmth immediately, the comfort of his touch and the sound of his breath. But a small part of her had also been relieved. The hate in his eyes as he'd pinned her down was terrifying. How could a man with such hate in his heart become a father?

A sound at the door caught her attention, and she shifted her arm. He was there, watching her. His face was grim, his eyes dull.

"You need to get up," he said quietly. "We have to talk."

She nodded her head and crawled out of the bed. He watched, seemingly unaffected by her nudity, as she pulled a robe on and moved toward him. He stepped aside as she approached the door, gesturing toward the couch in the living area. Feeling heavy, she sat down. He pulled a chair up before her, turning it backward and straddling it.

"We have to decide what we're going to do now," he said quietly. "You and the baby need a place to live."

"What about you?" she asked. "Don't you need a place to live, too?"

"Yes," he said dispassionately. "I've done some research, and found about four different places that might work out. I've printed out descriptions for you to look over. One of them is the planet Logan is from. He told me that I would have a place with him, if he was successful in his return."

"Do you have any idea if he was successful?" she asked.

Jess shook his head, then replied. "No, but Logan said he'd leave word for me at Dalaron Station if he had a place for us. It's located just inside Saurellian space, a way-station for anyone traveling through the Federation. We'll know for sure before have to make our final decision," he replied. "It sounds like a good enough place. Mid-sized and well-established without being over-populated. If we don't like it we can always move on."

"How far is it?"

"It's a long way," he replied. "It's in the Saurellian Federation proper, not just under their control. It's actually on the far side of Saurellian space."

"I can see some real advantages in that," she said slowly. "You don't have to worry about being caught by the Imperials, and I doubt there are any Pilgrims there."

"No Pilgrims," he said, his eyes showing life for the first time. "It's probably a good, safe place."

"Then it sounds good to me," she replied, leaning forward. He remained silent as she cupped both hands around his face and kissed him. It was a slow, soft kiss, almost chaste. She wanted to show him how much she loved him, how much she and the baby needed him in this lives. He didn't respond, although his eyes were filled with an almost infinite sadness as she pulled away. What was going through his head?

He stood, and reached down with one hand to help her up.

"I'll go plot the course," he said. "We should be ready to start accelerating for our leap into hyperspace in an hour or so."

With that, he turned from her and walked out of the room. She sighed, and some of his sadness washed over her. She shook off the emotion deliberately.

Somehow she had to find a way to connect with him again, she told herself. He was living in the past, filled with regrets. It wasn't going to work like this. Her child deserved a father, not a ghost.