The Wraith's Story (BRIGAND Book 1) (8 page)

Suddenly, she raised her left hand and, for a moment I thought she was going to hit me. I involuntarily pulled away from her, but then she gently reached out to touch my face. She smoothed the hair back from my cheek, the way she had so long ago.

She leaned close and whispered, "You really don't understand do you?"

My confusion must have been obvious. Her voice became infinitely sad. "Trig, do you love me?"

"Of course. You know I do."

"And what about me?"

"I don't..."

"I protect you. I teach you." Her hand slid down to rest lightly on my breast. "I please you." Tears rose in her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. "But there's one thing I can never do — the only thing I truly want."

The ache in my throat was nearly unbearable. I croaked. "What do you mean?"

"Little Wraith, what do you think they take from you in TRIG?"

I was confused. Such an obvious thing. Common knowledge in the Creche. "They take your desire, your need for human connection."

Cutter palmed my cheek softly. "No, Trig. Sex is one of our tools. How could we do what we do without it?"

She looked down for a moment and then her sea gray eyes stared into mine. "The thing they take from us is the one thing a Wraith can't afford. What they take is love."

She stood suddenly and I toppled backward to the floor.

"But I beat them." She continued, "Because, despite everything they did to me, I do love you. So tell me. Tell me
you
love
me
."

I sat on the floor and did my best to comply, as I always did. "Of course I love you. I love you like a sister, a mother, a friend. You're everything to me! I
do
love you."

"No," she said, "Just say you
love
me."

I knew what she needed and was such a simple a request. But in the one second that I hesitated, in the one second I thought of Heraila with his neck muscles straining above me as he bucked and came inside of me, and I thought of The Woman and The Bishop and how they defied an entire government, all of the complexities of love stretched within my mind and I hesitated. I faltered. I knew that was not what I felt for her. And in my moment of hesitation, she knew too.

She walked to the bedroom door and pushed it open. "No," she said. "Don't talk. And please don't follow me." Then she stepped inside and closed the door.

__________

I waited for a very long time before I went into the bedroom. When I did, she was there, where I expected her to be, pale and beautiful on the bed, with a new red incision on her right hip which simply read TRIG, and blood pooling into the mattress beneath her.

Cutter finally cut too deep – into her thighs and groin and wrists. She used the knives I had bandaged to her broken fingers.

I rushed to her and lifted her lifeless body, bracing her head against my chest, and tried to apply pressure to her thighs. But the white of her skin was completely covered in thick, warm blood. A thin stream leaked from her legs, not gushing.

I held her. For hours. Maybe a day.

She left me a detailed note. All of the information needed for my survival — no emotion, no goodbyes. I had access codes that somehow reached Ereena, although I didn't fully understand how to use them, and a ticket to get me off of Earth in two days. Her last order was to leave her body there. She knew that attempting to dispose of it would only bring me trouble.

Her final words were, "Your training is done. I have nothing left to give to you. You have to find the rest on your own."

I left her, just as she wanted. The thought of her there, alone, made my stomach convulse and I couldn't eat for a long time. But survival is a funny thing. Because even as part of me wanted to follow my teacher's last lesson, and end my life with hers, something pushed me forward. Will, energy connection, or stubbornness, propelled me out of the room, through the streets and to a dark hole of a room that I paid for with the stolen creds for a week's stay.

I missed her.

It was after she was gone that I was strangled for the third time in my life. I woke from a violent dream with that Jovian meat bag, the one from the bar, sprawled out on top of me. Somehow he'd tracked me down.

He pressed on top of me, his massive body covering mine, and his thick fingers digging deep into my throat.

"Hullo, luv," he warbled into my face. "It took me a long time to find you."

 I tried to turn my head to the side, to avoid the putrid smell coming from his mouth. He squeezed my neck tighter.

"How's about a little tickle?" He spat right beside my left ear and then brought his face down closer to mine. My legs were pinned in between his as he straddled me. I could have cussed him out in twenty different languages, four in his own dialects, but I couldn't get enough air even for a single breath. I practiced my calm.

I knew I didn't have the physical strength to push him off of me. I waited for another shift in his balance and then I brought my thin arms up to my chin pushing out against the inside of his forearms with all of my strength. He wavered slightly and fell closer to me. Exactly what I needed.

I spun my hip to the side and pushed my iliac crest into his crotch. My steel-clad hip belt wrenched into him — hard. He groaned and cursed and fell closer to my face. I lifted my neck ever so slightly and scissored my teeth directly into his carotid artery. The warmth and whoosh of fresh blood flooded my mouth and I almost spewed bile on him, but he had pulled his hands away from my neck to clamp over his own.  I pulled my knees up to my chest and shoved his body off of me. Then I arched my back and flipped up to a standing position and swiftly kicked him in the head with edge of my boot. Just making sure.

After a quick search of his coat pockets I found his identification papers and a new platinum scrip card. Nice.

Cutter taught me to never waste time. I found the address to the corresponding scrip repository and went there immediately to drain the account before anyone found out the Jovian was dead. With the key, and his print card I would be fine. I had stolen from him twice now, but this time was his fault.

It felt good to be alive. Or maybe it was the brush with death that felt good. I didn't really know — or care.

When I arrived at the bank, I realized it was Jovian. I should have turned away. But adrenaline pumped through me from the fight and my years away from the Templum had made me more emotional — even reckless.

Since my body had been allowed to naturally mature, I also had bigger breasts than other Wraiths. I used all of it to my advantage. I applied a thin layer of grime to my face and visible skin. I pulled my black leather corset a bit lower, then pulled some of the longer strands of my jet black hair over the front of my face. My pants were skin tight. My boot heels were high. The red flowing skirt that skimmed my leather-clad thighs looked fashionable, but when needed, I could fling up the corner, the underside was black, and it fit up and over my head as a cloak. I didn't need to hide in gray and white anymore. I could hide in darkness — a night Wraith.

In my grief over losing Cutter, and my fear, a new Trig birthed. She felt a little crazy. She felt a little wild. Actually, she felt pretty good.

I entered the underground bank and produced the two papers to the check-in clerk — a fat man with a small knobby head and greenish bumps on his neck. He barely glanced up, got as far as my chest, and stopped short. Good boy.

He muttered the call back number to the even shorter, fatter Jovian in the back room. After three minutes the second one, and a third, entered the greeting hall, each carrying several stacks of thin platinum.

Merde.

That much money was unexpected. In one second I found a pocket, slipped into it and moved directly in front of the two Jovians who were holding the money. I grabbed the stacks and shoved them into slots at the back of my corset before either of them registered that their hands were empty.

The first one screamed, "Wraith!" and three more of them came running from the back room. Each of them began wildly swinging their arms in every direction. They knew they wouldn't be able to see me, but in the small space they had a fair shot at making contact. I back flipped over the shorter one, and kicked the bald one who bore the unfortunate burden of already having a flat face. My high kick to the nose didn't help him much.

They were closing in — moving in a tight circle while flailing wildly. I dove to the floor, found a low pocket in between two fatter ones, barely able to distinguish one from another, and slid out the front door. It would take them a moment to realize I was no longer in the room.

I ran.

I heard their footsteps behind me sooner than I'd hoped. Allowing myself one quick glance over my shoulder I saw them, eight total, less than two hundred meters behind me. For tubby Squats, they were pretty fast.

My alternatives fanned out in front of me — an alleyway to the right. My map recall told me it would be a dead end. I'd be trapped. There was a scalable wall but the residents of the building were even worse than the ones chasing me. Not a viable option.

To the left was a sewage run. I'd spent too much time in the sewers. Another dead end.

Dead center, less than fifty meters ahead was big, muscular guy, loading up an external cargo pod on a hop-ship. He looked strong — military. But he wasn't wearing armor so maybe this guy wasn't active. I might be able to handle one off-duty Jack on my own.

I sprinted directly into him. He caught me easily. I barely even nudged his thick body. I'd expected him to at least sway a bit, giving me the chance to pocket my way into his ship and take off. But this guy wasn't budging. Even a little.

"Whoa, kid. Take it easy." His big hands curled around my back. Almost like embrace. This wasn't going as planned. I pushed off of his enormously hard chest and cursed in Cheyanows. He chuckled. The bastard understood me. Maybe not just a dumb Jack after all…

"I need help." I hated to admit it, to a Jack no less. But the Jovians were coming fast and now I really would be trapped. I couldn't fight eight — especially if they circled me again.

The Jack snatched up four of the cases at his feet and easily lifted them into the opening of the cargo pod. Even stronger than I'd thought. This guy might be dangerous.

He eyed me slowly then jerked his chin back the way I'd come. "Who's after you?"

 "Squats. Eight. Maybe more. They're — I computed quickly — thirty seconds away."

"Bah!" he muttered under his breath. "I've had my own issues with those smelly little bastards. Not thrilled about a repeat."

We were at the edge of the dock. Hundreds of meters of nothing stretched below us. If I couldn't get away then it's entirely possible they'd hurl me into the chasm below. I mentally recalculated my options. None of them appeared to have a high statistical outcome for survival. The Jack stepped toward the ship.

"You're just going to leave me!" I didn't like the pitch of my voice, but panic was dancing at the edges of my control.

"Well, darlin' I think my welcome has just about worn out. Time to move on."

The bastard wasn't going to help me.

"I can pay you!" I blurted without thinking. Another blunder. I was making too many.

The man smiled. A heedless, open, grin that crinkled his eyes. Brown eyes. Which meant he probably had limited genetic augmentation, if any.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" He made an exaggerated sweeping motion toward the ship. I hesitantly followed. I didn't want to be trapped. In space. Caged. No pockets. Nowhere to go.

But I lacked other options.

He grabbed my hand to help me into the cockpit and motioned to the co-pilot's seat. I raised an eyebrow but complied. As I brushed past his chest, trying hard not to allow any part of my body to touch his, he grabbed my arm, reached up with his other hand and wiped his thumb at the corner of my mouth. Too stunned to move I remained still and endured his surprisingly gentle touch.

"You had a little bit of blood on your face." And the bastard winked at me.

I didn't break eye contact with him. "They're almost here."

We climbed into our seats and his hand hovered over the airlock control. "Payment?"

I reached behind me and pulled out one of the thin stacks and handed it to him.

"I want half of whatever you took. Considering the penalty for unauthorized transport of a Wraith, it better be worth my while." He didn't even bother looking at me that time. In that instant I realized he hadn't been hugging me earlier. He'd frisked me. Definitely smarter than he looked.

He smiled again. I wanted to punch him, but I reached behind me and pulled out three more stacks.

"Well this is turning out to be a pretty good stop after all." He finally hit the airlock button as the Jovians approached. He reached his left hand across his body and extended it toward me. "Name's Roy."

I ignored his hand and stared ahead, out of the forward view.

I paused a moment, then whispered, "Trig."

"Well strap in, Trig. This'll be a little bumpy."

I reached around the sides of my seat and strapped the thick belt between my breasts — annoyed that it fit so tightly and only accentuated my incongruously suggestive attire.

The Jack whistled tunelessly as he deftly used the ship's maneuvering thrusters to kick us away from the dock. "So where you headed, kid?"

"Don't call me kid. And anywhere that isn't here."

He thrust the accelerator forward in one swift slide and the drive began to whine as the ship gained velocity. "That's a happy accident, darlin', because that's exactly where I'm goin'." And the bastard winked at me again.

I watched the black sky outside. The stars began to whirl by as we spun into orbit. For the first time in my entire life I could see…. nothing.

I peeked through the corner of my eye at him. He grinned again. My stomach flipped and a warm sensation spread through my belly. It reminded me of the one time I had tasted chocolate and suddenly I realized that salt and sweet were the perfect complements for one another.