Reclaiming Mystique Read online

Nesham seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and Jace studied his crewman. The sadness that had appeared in Nesham’s eyes as a result of his twin’s death never went away. Nesham seemed perpetually bleak. A stillness hung over the large man as well, the spry energy of his nature subdued. Nesham didn’t appear to have any injuries from his time on Dark World, save a few mottled bruises on his face and arms. For that at least Jace was grateful.

  Nesham said, in a deep, throaty voice, “I escaped from our cell before the demon lord could take me away.” Jace felt the hum of Nesham’s suppressed rage, though Nesham controlled it well enough. “I ran as fast as I could and managed to hide while the demons raced by. I don’t know how long I wandered, but eventually I became lost in that maze of a prison.

  “I had been about to step out, unknowingly into the waiting arms of Demise and his creatures, when a soft voice stopped me. For the life of me I can’t understand why I listened to her, but I did.”

  “Her?”

  “It was a female’s voice, a spirit that lingered next to me in the shadows. It was odd, Jace,” Nesham said, his eyes puzzled. “She helped us all escape. I found our ship because eof her and returned with the transformitter to free you. She’s the one who led me to Mikhel and the woman, Naria.”

  “Why Naria, I wonder?” Jace had been more than curious when Nesham had arrived at the cell with Naria in tow.

  “I don’t know. The spirit only told me I had to take the woman when I left. I didn’t question her, not when she’d been helping me.”

  “Right.” Jace’s thoughts turned to the injured on board. “We’ll talk more of this later. For now I need to check on the others. Keep an eye out.”

  “Will do.” Nesham nodded.

  Jace gingerly stood and limped out of the control room. His ribs hurt more than they had before, the flight from Dark World taking its toll on his battered flesh.

  As he walked to the med unit, he thought about their escape. Nesham had arrived at their cell not long after Jace had been thrown in with Castor and Koneru. With the transformitter in hand, Nesham had easily transported the three of them from the cell. He’d also been carrying Naria. Once safely onboard the SpaceStalker, Nesham had returned to Lysst to rescue Mikhel.

  Though Jace hadn’t understood how Nesham had accomplished such a feat, he’d waited to bombard the man with questions. Now he couldn’t help but wonder about their mysterious helper.

  Jace didn’t trust a blasted thing about the planet or its inhabitants. As soon as he saw to the current condition of his men, he’d do a sweep of the ship to make sure they carried nothing foreign from the planet.

  He continued to the medical room and entered to find Koneru standing over the med unit. Castor lay as still as death within the narrow, enclosed bed, his body pale but slowly healing as they watched.

  “This will not be fast or easy, but he’ll heal,” Koneru said without looking up. “I fear his internal injuries may take more time than Mikhel can afford to wait.”

  Jace glanced over at the injured Fenturi. Mikhel looked terrible, his golden skin now a pallid yellow, his face and body covered with scratches, gouges and bite marks. No deep wounds, that Jace could see, but the sick miasma of Mikhel’s psyche really concerned him. When Nesham had returned Mikhel naked and battered, Jace had assumed the worst. He could only imagine what torment the poor man had suffered.

  “Set Castor in the unit until he’s well enough to subsist on his own. That belly wound is almost gone. Then put Mikhel inside. He’ll need to be in there longer. Though his wounds appear superficial, it’s his mind I’m worried about.”

  “Right.”

  “After he checks out, flip flop the men until they glow with health.”

  Koneru nodded. “I fear they’ll need more than the med unit to recover from that dark place, though.”

  Jace agreed as he stared down at Mikhel. Reaching out with his mind, Jace felt echoes of horror and loathing from Mikhel’s exhausted mind. Castor, as he’d thought, appeared better with each moment spent in the unit.

  “Jace?” Koneru stared at him, no doubt wondering at the long pause.

  Jace had to stop assuming his lapses wouldn’t be noticed. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m tired. I’m going to check on the woman. She’s still unconscious?”

  “I put her in the room next to yours, as ordered. When last I left her, she appeared to be in a deep sleep. She’s bruised but not too badly.”

  Jace left Koneru with a promise to return shortly. He found his room and walked through the spartan space to the adjoining area beside it.

  He found Naria lying still on her back and sat by her on the bed. He forced open her eyelids and stared into black depths. Black? He blinked in surprise. He could have sworn her eyes were purple. Then he checked for a pulse and found…nothing.

  “Hel and Lysst, no.” He ignored his own pain and lifted her in his arms, intent on getting her to the medical room when he felt her soft breath on his neck.

  Lightheaded with relief, he returned her gently to the bed. She’d been so light in his arms, at odds with the picture of her tall and curvy frame. As he studied her, he again felt an odd pull toward the female, his injured body protesting but nevertheless responding to her in a carnal sense.

  He did his best to master an instinctive reaction to a beautiful woman, trying to be more concerned for her welfare than his badly-timed libido. Seeing that she looked in no condition to do anything harmful and sensing her brain patterns tempered into sleep, he left her locked in his adjoining room and rejoined Nesham in the front of the ship.

  “Nesham, I want you to—”

  “I ran a system scan on the ship,” Nesham interrupted. “The scanner malfunctioned as soon as it started.” He paused. “I can’t guarantee the ship is free from Dark World influence.”

  “Terrific. We’ll need to rely on our senses to detect any forms of unfamiliar life before they devour our souls and eat our corpses.” Jace said wryly and shook his head.

  Nesham nodded, not taking Jace’s dark sarcasm in the way he’d meant it.

  With a sigh, Jace added, “Take a walk around the ship and look for anything that doesn’t seem right. I don’t want to have inadvertently carried something off any of those demonic moons. At all.”

  “Trust me. I understand.” Nesham left the control room.

  Jace rolled his head on his neck, glad at least that Nesham appeared in good health if his usual melancholy spirits. Koneru too, though shaken by the ordeal, had come out as strong and resilient as always.

  Castor would recover, of that Jace felt certain. Mikhel was another matter.

  Jace closed his eyes, trying to cut off the sorrow emanating from just the mention of the man. Not only did Mikhel suffer from psychic wounds Jace could feel from the control room, he’d also managed to do the impossible. He made Jace empathize. In the time Jace had known him, he’d had come to sincerely like and respect Mikhel.

  Though a strong and imperious warrior among his people, Mikhel had lived a sheltered life among the System. Now, when he’d finally come into his own and found freedom from an oppressive monarch, now when he’d begun really living, he’d fallen victim to an evil that might well take his life.

  At the thought, memories of the Cazeth returned, reminding Jace that evil lived in all manner of existence. He would do all he could to restore Mikhel’s mind once the man’s body recovered. But he could only do so much.

  If I only had access to Mystique’s healing pools. I could fix what’s broken in so many ways.

  Frustrated at his stymied attempts to return to his world, he asked aloud to no one, “Why won’t you let me in?”

  “In where?” Koneru barked from the doorway, staring at Jace in concern. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “Just talking to myself,” Jace muttered and felt his cheeks heat.

  “I’d advise you to get some rest. You look like sherhu leavings.”

  Jace snorted. “Thanks so much.”

  Nesha
m reappeared in the doorway. “I checked the ship and can detect nothing odd about.” He gave Jace a solid examination from head to foot. “Nothing except our captain talking to himself, that is.”

  Jace looked at his solid crewmen, not wanting to leave them since he was responsible for them all, but knowing he would be no good to them until he took some well-needed rest.

  “An attempt at humor? From you, Nesham?”

  “What can I say? I’m awash in the joy of life,” the Fenturi deadpanned.

  Koneru coughed to hide a laugh.

  If Nesham could joke at a time like this, they might all actually recover from Dark World. “Very well. I’ll be in my quarters should you need me. But after you check the ship, make sure you both get plenty of rest yourselves. I only want one of you on at a time, and that’s just to make sure they haven’t followed. The autopilot’s set?” He looked to Nesham, who nodded. “Fine then. Wake me for third shift if I’m not back by then.”

  “Aye, Captain.” “Will do.”

  Jace knew he looked terrible as he walked stiffly and slowly from the room. It was that or fall on his face, sudden exhaustion crashing on him with the force of a falling meteor. He knew what they wouldn’t say in his presence. They wouldn’t wake him, trying to look out for his welfare while countermanding his orders.

  His lips quirked. There was certainly something to be said for his men’s loyalty. They would stand by him no matter what he said or did.

  Which made him wonder about his choice to command his ragtag crew. Had he made a mistake by becoming too closely entwined with the men? When the time came, he wouldn’t allow them to aid in his fight with the Cazeth, a battle that would mean their death. As stubborn as Koneru and Nesham were, Castor and Mikhel would undoubtedly be just as bad, demanding to stand by him.

  No sense in worrying about the future now when it will be here soon enough. He entered his room and sank onto his bed. Wanting to get clean but utterly exhausted, he instead fell into a deep and healing sleep, his mind clear of everything but Mystique.

  And his new guest lying so close, right next door.

  ***

  Naria woke feeling relaxed, something that rarely happened while at her father’s abode. Confused, she sat up with care, her eyes burning at the illumination around the base of the room. This place was much too bright for Dark World, even for the light cell and light garden. The air didn’t seem familiar either. Not suffocatingly abysmal or tainted with rot, and not humid. It smelled almost…clean. Light and metallic.

  She lay in a small gray room on a bed made, not of stone, but of a soft material. The temperature wasn’t hot or cold, but moderate. All the pieces of the puzzle came together, and she felt faint.

  Naria was no longer on Dark World.

  So happy to be gone from her prison of a home, she felt tears trickle down her cheeks, both from the strain of brightness around her and her joy. By the Light, the relief made her lightheaded. But how had she gotten here? And where was here, anyway?

  She didn’t remember anything past her sister’s voice calling out to her while she’d been incarcerated in her cell. Carinna. Worry for her sister couldn’t penetrate the deep gratitude at getting a break from the constant chaos of Dark World.

  As her eyes continued to burn, she reached the hem of her blouse and tore a good portion free, then wrapped it around her eyes. The smooth material provided her a measure of relief while still being thin enough to somewhat see through, and she made good use of her new eyes to study her surroundings.

  The room was the same size as the cell she’d been imprisoned in on Dark World. Though this room gave comfort while the prison had not. A bed big enough for two, a small table and chair in the corner, and a door lining one wall were all that stood out in the room. The bland gray walls looked much like the stone at home but offered comfort all the same.

  Naria stood on sure feet. Her sleep had done her a world of good. She moved to the security panel by the door. After trying the locked door and unable to get it open, she pushed a few buttons on the panel. Nothing happened. A few moments went by and still no one appeared, leading her to believe the room wasn’t monitored. Another difference from the prison cells at home.

  “Hello?” Perhaps the people who controlled the locks didn’t know she’d regained consciousness.

  No one responded so she tried again. She pounded on the door as well. Again, nothing.

  A terrible thought struck. What if she hadn’t left Dark World after all? Her father could have broken through her mental shields and toyed with her mind. Horrified at the prospect, she sat back on the bed and concentrated.

  Naria closed her eyes and sent her thoughts out to pick up signs of life. Thankfully, she didn’t sense darkness around her except in one small area outside of her room, and it was too faint to be anything seriously malignant. As she let her mind separate from her body and wander, searching for energy, she saw bright white light along several corridors. Fading blues and browns pulsed with life. And there, a seething brilliant gray ball of energy—the Rovi.

  She had to be away from Dark World. So where was Jace?

  Her mind traveled farther before she saw a bright violet orb so magnificent and speckled with color that she knew it had to be Jace. It mesmerized, and as she stared at it, she noticed how his colors took on those of his companions. Brown for Castor—solid, dependable. Blue for the Fenturi Carinna had helped, and where the darkness pulsed, a smattering of dull blue remained. That had to be the other Fenturi her half-sisters had tormented.

  Then Jace’s colors turned a mottled black, prismed with color. Oddly, they reminded her of the patterns of her own energy Carinna had once described. Carinna. Distressed she still coulnd’t sense her sister, she started to—

  A band of energy pulled at hers, and she quickly regrouped her thoughts, shielding them once more before she sank back into her physical body.

  The door to her room slid open, and Jace stepped through looking well-rested if a bit battered. Satisfaction filled her from head to toe, and she had to force herself to sit still when she wanted to bounce with excitement over seeing him again.

  “Naria.” He studied her as intently as she watched him. “How are you feeling?”

  In this light, his hair looked darker than the white-blond it had appeared on her world. His eyes were brilliant, shards of colors swirling within the deep black of his gaze. She could stare into them all day and night.

  When she realized she hadn’t answered him, she said in a rush, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  “What’s wrong with your eyes?” he asked, looking at her blindfold.

  Naria wasn’t sure what to tell him. If he believed her story about coming from planet Seven, he would think it strange for her eyes to be so unaccustomed to the light. Whereas a Dark Worlder would naturally shy from such brightness. Even the torturous light cells on Lysst were only half as bright as the illumination in this room.

  “I, um, I’m not sure. I think Lord Demise did something to me that made me light sensitive.” Thinking about what he’d very well do to her if he caught her made her shiver with real fright.

  The suspicion on Jace’s face softened. He gave her a crooked smile and dimmed the lights, then sat next to her on the bed, so close his leg brushed hers, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

  “Here, let me see.” He removed the cloth from her eyes.

  Naria cringed, prepared for the pain of too much light, but it no longer hurt. “Oh, that’s better.” She smiled at him.

  He shocked her by putting his hand under her chin. The warmth of his palm froze her to the spot. Then he tilted her face up and looked into her eyes.

  “Yes, much better.” His breath was sweet and strangely alluring as it feathered over her cheek like a caress. He leaned closer.

  Completely confused about the way her body tingled from his nearness, she instinctively pulled back. She wondered just what he meant to do next. If he were like the males from her planet, he’d either pounce on
her or hurt her, a Dark World courtship she’d been all too happy not to bear. Fortunately, as the daughter of a demon lord, she’d been free from a forced mating, at least until her father decided her fate.

  Jace sent her a mental probe, gentling her nervous energy. “I won’t hurt you, Naria.” He placed an escaped strand of her hair behind her ear, and his finger trailed softly over her cheek.

  She held her breath, her eyes wide.

  Jace chuckled. “Such innocence. I wonder, can it be true?”

  Innocence? Did he mean he sensed her sexual inexperience, or did he refer to her lies about planet Seven? With a mind as strong as his, she honestly didn’t know. Healing herself had taken a huge toll on her strength, and even though she’d rested and felt much better, she couldn’t be sure of the strength of her shields.

  “Where are we?” she asked, hoping to divert his rapt attention. “H-how did we get here?”

  Jace gave her one last lingering look, then stood. He seemed less graceful than the last time she’d seen him, and she realized he must have taken some injury during the course of their escape.

  “We’re on board the SpaceStalker, my ship. As to how we got here, that’s still a bit fuzzy to me. Apparently Nesham—one of my crewmen—got us out. I’m still not sure why Dark World hasn’t followed us. I would have thought Lord Demise a capable tracker. And he didn’t strike me as someone to let go easily.”

  “I don’t know.” Naria couldn’t see her father giving up either. “Maybe the reason they aren’t following is the same reason we haven’t seen them outside Dark World before.” She gave Jace truths in the form of hypotheticals. “Maybe he can’t leave his world without permission. Or maybe demons and devels can’t leave Dark World at all. I mean, if they could leave of their own free will, wouldn’t the System be overcome with darkness? They were such powerful beings.” Of course her father wasn’t following them, yet. He had to get permission from the Master, and even then only specialized Dark World Trackers could leave the planet to find her.

  Jace frowned. “Maybe. In any event, we’ll be on our guard.”