Page 18

Home .

The word echoed in Tyelu’s mind like a tolling bell, eliciting the strangest feeling within her. Hope. Love. Comfort. No other word matched home. She’d lived long enough away from hers to understand the difference.

She took Jos to her parents, measured his grim expression against their desire to celebrate, and quietly gathered his things while her mother tended Jos’s wounds. Soldier he might be, but even he couldn’t go forever without rest and food. When Gared left for Pyol’s funeral, Tyelu begged leave from duty. Her father agreed without argument.

Even after Jos cleaned up, an urgency lingered in his gaze. “We need to go,” he whispered to her. “Say goodbye while you can.”

An odd way to put it, but this was his day as much as hers. They said their goodbyes and left, hurrying between the entrance and her hovercar in weather that had grown mercifully mellow, a calm before the coming storm.

Before they’d even reached her home, Jos was answering calls through his implant. In one of the rare pauses between conversations, she said, “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll explain when we get to your house.” He muttered a curse as he touched his jaw. “Need coordinates. Yes? I know. Uh-hm. We’re going as fast as we can.”

“I can go faster,” she murmured. Her vehicle traveled above the road, not on it. Otherwise, they would’ve been stuck at her parents’ house.

He shook his head at her, switched into another conversation. Switched languages, one she wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t hard to read his hardening expression, to feel him withdrawing from her into work despite the gentle hand he’d laid on her thigh.

The bubble of happiness created by his victory over Kodh, by his choosing her, by his casual use of the word home, slowly deflated. Something was wrong.

In the next pause, she said, “Your dal?”

“They’re fine,” he murmured.

In the one after that: “Sweepers?”

He nodded, and she knew then that he was preparing to leave her.

Her temper flared white hot, and she only just refrained from pounding a fist into the dashboard. Gods above and below, she’d just found him! Just learned to love, to trust. He couldn’t go now, not when she’d just realized how much he loved her!

She sucked in a breath and drew on years of experience to control the anger and grief and sorrow roiling within her, to push it down so her reaction wouldn’t upset Jos. The last thing he needed was for her to throw a temper tantrum over a situation he had no say in. Kraden Sweepers. That’s where the true blame lay.

Tears pricked her eyes for the second time in two days, and she pushed them down, too. A crying woman did strange things to a man, and she would not impose them on her mate.

See? she thought. I’m not always the spoiled princess, and I refuse to play the martyr .

She pulled the hovercar into the garage attached to her home. Funny, that. She couldn’t recall any of the actual drive after realizing he had to go.

He followed her out of the hovercar, dragging his bags with him despite the cracked rib. She unlocked the garage entrance and took one bag from him, then led him into the mudroom past the pantry and kitchen, through the living area and the cooling fire she’d banked that morning before leaving. Two bedrooms were downstairs. She bypassed those and walked upstairs to the massive bedroom she’d designed for her own use.

Like most homes in Hrelum, hers was constructed of wood and stone inside and out. Her bedroom featured exposed beams on the ceiling and a separate fireplace. She’d decorated it with comfortable furniture and accessories she’d woven or knit herself.

Jos had grown quiet as they walked and stood now in the chamber’s doorway, watching her as she dropped his bag on the floor and dug an empty one out of her upstairs storage closet.

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

“Maybe next time you can stay long enough to make yourself at home.”

“I wish I could now.” He hesitated a moment, leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “I’m sorry I have to leave so soon. I’d hoped for a few more days.”

“I always knew you’d go back, sooner or later.” She dropped the bag on her bed, their bed now, and went to a dresser, yanking out necessaries by habit more than thought. “When do you have to leave?”

“A few ticks ago. My grandmother’s holding her shuttle at the spaceport, waiting for me. What are you doing?”

She eyed his bemused smile and shrugged. “Whither thou goest.”

“You want to go with me?”

“What does it look like?”

“Even though you’ll have to twiddle your thumbs on Q while I’m deployed stars knows where?”

She slammed a drawer closed, irritation sparking from her eyes. “I’d rather be close to your base of operations than stuck here not knowing what’s going on.”

“I see.” He studied her for a long moment, long enough for the weight of his stare to become uncomfortable.

She shrugged it off and continued packing. Clothes, toiletries, an extra pair of boots. Where was that knitting bag she’d thrown together with enough yarn to knit her new husband a sweater?

“I thought you’d be furious,” he said.

“I am, Jos. Of course, I am.” She rounded on him, all the fury and pain and deflated hope pressing against her skin, urging her to move, to scream, to throw something if that’s what it took for him to understand how much just the thought of being parted from him right now hurt. “We haven’t even finalized the union yet. Haven’t settled the dowry or the assets, haven’t even consummated our marriage. What else should I feel?”

He crossed the room to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s ok, love. Everything’s going to be ok.”

She curled trembling fingers into fists against his back, holding him with a desperate fierceness, her breath hitching on silent sobs. If she held him tight enough, would he still leave her? Would he survive the Sweeper onslaught and make it back home to her? He couldn’t leave her here to endure that worry. Surely he could see the logic in taking her with him.

He held her head to his shoulder and rubbed the other up and down her spine, murmuring nonsense to her. Kissed her tears away, tears she swore would never fall. And when her breath calmed and her tears dried, he reached around him and gently took one of her hands in his, easing it to his side.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said.

She rubbed her face against his shoulder, breathing in his scent, letting it soothe her frayed nerves. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” His hand encircled her wrist, and she felt an electric hum and a soft click against her skin. “You see, princess, I had no intention of leaving you behind.”

Confused, she stepped back and glanced down as Jos caught her other hand and melded her wrists together. She yanked on them, found them firmly restrained, and nearly stamped her foot. “What’s this? What are you doing?”

One corner of his mouth quirked upward, and he stared down at her, his eyes hard and dangerous, laced with a silky, heated promise. “Turnabout’s fair play, lover.”

He smacked a transportation chip onto her shoulder and triggered it, and she popped out of existence, taking her outrage with her.

Jos didn’t bother donning his armor. He found Tyelu’s communications terminal, bypassed the security—sometimes having the top R&D in the sector came in handy—and contacted Alna, voice only, while programming a set of transportation chips.

“What’s wrong, darling?” she said.

“It’s Jos. Who does Tyelu usually get to look after her property when she’s out of town?”

There was a long silence from the other end. “I’ll have someone drop by. How long will the two of you be gone?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“Sweepers?”

What else? A wave of fatigue washed over him. He scrubbed a hand over his hair, winced at the pinch in his ribs. “Yes. She’ll be safe enough.”

“As long as you keep her out of the fight,” Alna said wryly. “Tell her to stay in touch. Be safe, Jos.”

He cut the connection without responding. Safe was not a word people usually associated with Q-mercs. Neither was home , but here, in this home Tyelu had created for herself, he suspected he’d find one, too.

He jogged quickly upstairs as he messaged Zhina with a change of plans, then affixed the chips to his and Tyelu’s bags, and ‘ported himself and the lot directly to Kartikeya , his grandmother’s ship.

He popped onto the transport deck, snagged a passing hand to help with the bags. Tyelu was not there. When he asked where she’d been taken, the ensign manning the deck directed him to the same room he and Tyelu had occupied on the way to Abyw.

He went straight there, his long strides carrying him swiftly through the ship. At a gesture from him, the cargo lad who’d helped carry their bags dropped them beside the room’s entrance.

Jos waited until the other man was well away before testing the door. It was unlocked, the room it protected ominously silent. He cracked it a hand’s breadth and called, “Tyelu?”

A low, furious laugh drifted to him. “Did you think I’d welcome you eagerly, husband?”

He stepped behind the hinge and pushed the hatch open with one palm. She sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over her chest, her legs stretched out in front of her. The restraints he’d used on her wrists lay on the bed beside her, broken beyond repair, and her eyes held the same icy fury as her voice.

“Would you rather I’d left you behind?” he said.

She scoffed and glanced away. “You could’ve asked.”

“I could have. This was more fun.”

“Fun!” she squawked and flicked her hand at the broken restraints. “Do you know how long it took me to get those kraden things off? Do you know how many people saw me wearing them?”

He ruthlessly suppressed a grin. That would dig him into so much trouble, he’d never get out. “Can I bring the bags in, or are you going to attack while my back’s turned?”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “ I will carry in the bags. You, husband, will find a bathing chamber, and when you’re done, you will visit the nearest medic.”

“Do I get a kiss first?”

She gave him a disdainful sniff. “You reek of blood and sweat.”

“My lips are just fine, princess.” He advanced on her slowly.

She held up a hand and scrambled off the bed. “You would not dare!”

“I dare quite a bit, love.” He lunged for her before the last word left his mouth and caught her as she was turning away. Twisted her around so that her back met his front, wound his arms around her, and nuzzled the crook of her shoulder. “Don’t fight me, Tyelu. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“I know.”

The fury had drained out of her voice, leaving a sad hollow. She placed her arms over his and turned her face into his kiss. He savored her for as long as he dared with the doorway open to any passersby.

When he pulled away, she sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “Clean yourself up and find a medic. I refuse to send you into battle with a cracked rib and who knows what other damage.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She tried to pull away, and he held her close for a moment more. “We need to talk.”

“Oh?”

“Not now. Soon. Before I leave. Let me get cleaned up first.” He stole one more kiss, savoring the brief reprieve from the ever pressing demands of duty, then let her go. “Maybe when we’re done and I get cleared for duty, we can try out my spare restraints.”

She huffed out a laugh and waved him away, and he went, wondering if she still had some mischief planned to pay him back for kidnapping her.

Later, after he’d cleaned up, donned a fresh uniform, and seen the ship’s medic—around constant alerts and discussions with Magda and Q Command—Jos came back to her. While he was away, she’d gone through their bags and reorganized them, and now sat on the bed cross legged, knitting out of a cloth bag she’d packed with her clothing.

He sat down on the bed facing her and flicked a finger against the wound yarn. “What’s this?”

“A sweater for my husband.” Her eyebrows arched and she stared down her nose at him. “The one who would never dare send me into an unfamiliar situation with my hands restrained.”

“I knew it was safe.”

“But I didn’t, and that is the salient point.” She sighed and set her knitting aside. “You wanted to talk.”

“We have some things to settle between us.”

“Ha! I told you so.”

He caught her hand in his and threaded their fingers together. “Where you’ll stay on Q. How to access my accounts. We can divvy up management another time, but while I’m away, I need to know you’re taken care of.”

She leaned forward and cupped his face with her free hand. “I’ve been on my own for a long time, Jos. I can take care of myself.”

“I know. But you’re not alone now, and I want—” He turned his face into her palm, nuzzling it while he searched for the exact words to help her understand. “We have traditions here, too. You’ve seen the tattoos people wear on their throats?”

“I have. Magda mentioned them as well.” She scooted closer and gently turned his face toward hers. “Jos? What is it?”

“The tattoos are a bonding mark,” he began. “The ink is manufactured especially for the Q on Domor. There’s an empathic factor. When two people form a pair bond, if the bond is strong enough, they may choose to receive these mating marks. They transmit emotion between the pair. What one feels strongly, the other feels, too.”

“But,” she said flatly.

“If one dies, the other feels that death as if it were their own.”

Her fingers jerked against his. Otherwise, she remained still, absorbing his words.

It was too much to ask, too much of a burden to place on her—

“Emler,” she murmured.

Jos bowed his head. Was it selfish of him to ask this of her, knowing he might die in the line of duty? Knowing she’d have to live with the pain of his death?

But pain was only part of it. How could he deny her the benefits of that bond, the pleasure and certainty of knowing how much he loved her because she could feel it herself?

“Yes,” he said.

“What else? It can’t be just an empathic bond.”

“There are some legal consequences. Pair bonds can’t legally divorce under Q law. It’s easier to prove a union in the case of one partner’s death. Harder to disentangle assets.”

Her gaze searched his. “What does it mean for you?”

How could he explain? It was like a Pruxn? finding a mate on another planet and allowing them to skip the Choosing.

Again, he searched for the right words, words to explain how he’d dreamed of being in such a relationship during the loneliest days of his youth. When the rigorous training all Q-mercs endured ground him down to bone, leaving only the faint hope that one day he’d have something beyond it. A mate, a lover. Someone to come home to, someone to share the rest of his life with. By the time he’d made Q’Mhel, he’d buried that dream under the rigid chime of duty.

And then he’d ‘ported into a random cargo bay and seen her .

Had some part of him known then where a relationship with her would lead? Had that hope been rekindled when he recognized the fierce spark burning inside her as the same one that drove him? Had he known then, deep down, how much he would come to love her?

Before he could find the words to explain, she tightened her fingers around his. “I understand,” she said, and he wondered how much of his thoughts she’d read in his unguarded expression.

He kissed her fingertips, tucked a stray strand of her silky hair behind a delicate ear. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to. It’s a lot to ask, given how often my life is at risk.”

“I’ve lived with risk, Jos. Every day, for years.” A sigh filtered out of her. “Some things are worth taking the risk for. Some are worth risking everything. I will wear your mark with honor.”

“Tyelu,” he murmured. “Think about what you’re saying.”

“I have. Can we start now?”

“There should be someone onboard who can help us. With the first part at least. They’re taken in at least two stages, so we’ll have time to acclimate.” His mouth twitched into a grim smile. “The bond packs a punch. Are you sure? We can wait.”

“No,” she said sharply, then sucked in another ragged breath. “No, I don’t want to wait. Who knows what fate the gods may care to bestow?”

He felt her words to the depth of his soul. “Stars, I love you.”

“Jos,” she murmured, softening against him.

He pulled her into a fierce, demanding kiss, grateful for the nanos the medic had injected into his cracked rib. Healing already, he thought, and wished he had time both to make love to her and to start the process of legally and otherwise marrying her in the Q fashion. They’d arrive on Q all too soon and had too much to do in the meantime for them to dally, much as he wanted to carry her down and love her until she cried out his name in release.