Shieldbrothers: Pride of the Kodiak

Chapter Seven: Confrontations

Steam fills the turquoise and white tiled shower. It’s large enough for two unlike the dinky little shower in his quarters. Harper stretches, reveling in the multiple jets of warm water. Möbius is clearly a man who appreciates the importance of a luxurious shower. Too bad that Möbius is not the right man for him.

He came to that decision last night when nothing that Möbius did succeeded in driving Tyr out of his thoughts. Tyr’s invisible presence lingering in his mind shaded everything that happened. He had taken Möbius’ beautiful ass several times last night to the Nietzschean’s great pleasure…and his own. Yet, even when he was buried deep inside Möbius, he kept thinking of Tyr; of how he longs to ride Tyr’s magnificent ass in hard demand and feel Tyr writhing and moaning under him.

Harper tilts his head back into the warm spray of water. His body feels sated but there is a sadness lingering in his mind and heart. Harper rubs the foamy soap over the passion marks left from last night. Part of him wishes that he could wash the marks away as easily as he washes away Möbius’ scent. The other part knows that he is not being fair to Möbius.

How to tell Möbius that he wants to break things off? Harper sighs. No doubt plenty of the Jaguars would question his sanity but Möbius, while pleasing, does not truly satisfy him. Möbius has been a generous and enthusiastic lover. He likes Möbius or he would never have tried this in the first place…but Tyr is what he wants. If this experiment with Möbius has proved one thing to him it is that while others may be able to satisfy his body, his heart wants Tyr. No one else will do.

Harper slicks his wet hair back as he compares the two. Mobius just does not feel right or smell right or taste right. Möbius’ lips are sensual and beautiful but they lack the lush heat of Tyr’s. Möbius’ hair is as soft as the finest silk but lacks the weight and texture of Tyr’s braids. Möbius’ body is leanly athletic but...Harper sighs. He misses Tyr’s big, solid frame, the heavy musculature that makes him feel so secure and safe. Möbius’ fine copper skin feels like satin but it lacks the enticing plush velvety texture of Tyr’s skin.

Harper rinses the last of the foamy lather from his hair, turning his face into the soothing warmth of the water. His decision is made. Now all he has to do is find a graceful way to disentangle himself from Möbius and set about negotiating acceptable terms with Tyr. Harper fumbles off the controls, turning the water off. He gropes for a towel and finds instead the satiny smoothness of Möbius’ bare chest. He is instantly pulled into a tight embrace for a bruising kiss. Harper returns the kiss with more affection than passion. “What’s that for?”

“Just because.” Möbius nibbles delicately on the skin around the dataport.

Harper shivers in response then presses his hands firmly against the Nietzschean’s chest, pushing away. “I thought you had to go meet with Charlemagne this morning.”

Möbius leans forward, nuzzling the human’s throat. “I do. But I didn’t want to leave without holding you in my arms.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Harper pulls gently away. He grabs a turquoise towel and begins drying himself off.

“Aren’t you?” Möbius moves closer. His dark eyes narrow in sudden comprehension. “You’re having second thoughts.”

Harper wraps the towel firmly around his hips. This does not seem like a good time to discuss his decision with Möbius. He doesn’t want to lose the Nietzschean’s friendship. “I’m not. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“The Kodiak?” Möbius snags Harper’s arm and pulls the human close. His eyes are intent on Harper’s face. “Are you still concerned about his feelings?”

“No…no. I’m just trying to figure out…never mind.” Harper waves a hand and steps away. He heads toward the bedroom and his clothes.

Möbius moves to stand in front of Harper. His hands grip Harper’s bare shoulders. “Talk to me, Harper. What is the hold that the old Kodiak has on you? Tell me. I’ll take care of it. I…I want to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself, Möbius,” Harper says sharply. He is not looking for a meal ticket, thank you very much. He has been supporting himself for sometime now. Harper looks away from the hurt in Möbius’ fine eyes. His tone softens. “Oh, I know what you’re saying…what you mean….but I’m no child.”

“Look at me.” Möbius cups the human’s chin and stares down into the blue eyes.

“What?” Harper lowers his gaze to the hard muscles of the Nietzschean’s chest.

Möbius frowns. His husky voice is full of dismay. “You still love him…after all he’s done…you still want him. You still desire him.”

Harper sighs. It looks like he is going to have to discuss this now whether he thinks the time is right or not. “No…you don’t understand…there’s so much history between Tyr and me that I can’t…”

Möbius’ comlink chirps from the bedside table. Möbius releases Harper and walks over to pick it up. “Möbius.”

“Sir?” A nervous male voice begins. “The Archduke is waiting to meet with you.”

“Acknowledged.” Möbius snaps as he watches Harper tugging up navy boxers. This is not how he pictured the day beginning. He can almost feel Harper slipping elusively away from him. Harper should be openly his by now but instead the human is clinging to that old Kodiak. What happened last night to tip the scales; to make the human suddenly, maddeningly aloof this morning?

“The Archduke wants to know your ETA…sir.” The voice responds.

“Tell him I’m on my way. Möbius out.” Möbius turns back to Harper. He quickly fastens his brown leather vest. “Don’t make any decisions before we have a chance to talk.”

Harper tugs on his pants. He glances at Möbius and nods. “I won’t.”

****

Mobius strides briskly down the corridor toward the Jaguar Command Center. He glares at staff and members of the court who scuttle quickly out of his way. His thoughts are filled with Harper. Last night had been an incredible erotic experience…for him and he thought that Harper had been right there with him. Is it possible that the human did not find last night as satisfying as he did? No. Harper was satisfied. He felt and scented and tasted the human’s passion. Yet…he did not bear any new passion marks. The ones that he had were from their first encounter. Not from last night spent in his bed.

Yet, this morning, instead of happily snuggling up to him for another bout of sex, Harper had bounced off to take a long shower. And think of the old Kodiak. That can be the only reason for Harper’s sudden coolness. The human practically admitted to having second thoughts about accepting his suit. Möbius scowls. What hold could that old man have on Harper that kept drawing the human back despite everything? He will put an end to it whatever it is. Harper will be his.

Charlemagne looks up as Mobius strides through the door into Command. Ah-hah. What a dark look on that handsome face. The little kludge proving troublesome, perhaps? Tyr’s little human had proven quite adept at creating troubles so far. Charlemagne turns back to the flexi he holds. “Good morning, Möbius.”

Möbius snaps. “Is it?”

Charlemagne smiles sardonically. Oh, my. It is rather entertaining seeing the legendarily unruffled Möbius all perturbed over a lover. A kludge lover at that. And so early in the relationship as well. They only became lovers yesterday and already, here Möbius is, glowering despite the fading passion marks showing around the edges of the brown leather vest. A fast worker, that little kludge. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Nothing that can’t be handled.” Möbius jerks a report from a subordinate and scans it quickly.

Charlemagne lifts an eyebrow. His tone is blandly disinterested as he adjusts the vivid crimson rose pinned to his white silk shirt. “If you say so.”

Möbius pushes the report back to his subordinate. “What is so important that you had to have my presence here immediately?”

“Clear the room.” Charlemagne commands. He leans languidly back in his chair as the others leave. “The situation has escalated.”

“What has your lovely wife been up to, Charlemagne?” Möbius drops into the chair next to the Archduke. His dark eyes are bright with interest.

“The exquisitely poisonous Elssbett has decided to ally herself with people who, she believes, will help her finish her original goal.” Charlemagne sighs. He glances down at the flexi in his hands.

“Your assassination.” Möbius reaches for the coffeepot and pours himself a cup.

“Yes.” Charlemagne taps the flexi. “It seems that she has been quite busy in her absence. She has a small group of ships and the ear of two smaller prides.”

“Which prides?” Möbius frowns. He leans back, crossing his legs at the ankle.

“I believe they are…” Charlemagne consults the flexi as if he has not already memorized all the details. “…the Creek-Shalom and the Neteryu.”

Möbius closes his eyes. “I tried to warn you…I told you we should have killed those two women when we had them unconscious on the Fang.”

“That would not have been politically expedient at the time.” Charlemagne brushes a fingertip over one of the rose petals.

“Charlemagne, the damn politically-correct tolerance of this Commonwealth will be the death of us all.” Möbius runs an exasperated hand through his long hair.

“Patience, my friend. While this looks bad on the surface; there may be a way this can work to our advantage.” Charlemagne pauses to taste his coffee. “Apparently, my dear wife has freed the psychotic duo and is even now plotting her attack on the Jaguar home world.”

Möbius frowns. He takes a thoughtful sip of coffee. “Are you sure of your intel? Could this be misinformation from the lovely Elssbett so you will make the wrong move at the wrong time?”

“Oh the intel is good. I’ve the utmost confidence in the source.” Charlemagne leans back in his chair. Hmmm. Perhaps the source would provide a successful distraction and lure Möbius away from Harper. If Möbius just had to have a kludge…well, this would serve several purposes. And after that dinner party fiasco…oh, he would like to see someone make Möbius jump through hoops trying to please. Perhaps then, Möbius would be more inclined to pay attention to the more important business of politics.

“What does it say?” Möbius looks curiously at the flexi.

Charlemagne flips it over. Now to set the bait for Möbius. “Before I show it to you I must explain that this source has been in place for some time. One of the few of his kind that I trust.”

Möbius frowns. “What do you mean ‘his kind’? Who is this?”

“He has been in Jaguar employ for several years. He’s quite good at what he does.” Charlemagne studies Möbius closely. Time to drop another hint. “As good as you are at what you do for me.”

“He’s an assassin?” The frown deepens into a scowl.

“Yes…among other things.” Charlemagne purrs. He flips the flexi over allowing Möbius to view the names glowing on the front – Seamus Zelazny Harper and Troy Yen.

Möbius’ eyes widen. He sets his coffee mug down hard. One of the most infamous courtesans of Morgana’s Drift is sending messages to Harper. “This is addressed to Harper. What nonsense is this?”

“That was the one surprise. I had no idea that the little kludge had a history with my man. It never came up before.” Charlemagne frowns. That little kludge of Tyr’s really got around for one small human. He activates the first message and sits back to watch his Chancellor’s reactions.

Möbius stares at the hauntingly beautiful male face that appears on the flexi. At the long black hair with jade beads woven into one thin braid…the flawless gold skin and the long, black eyes. A deep green brocade robe is slipping provocatively off one wide shoulder, baring more flawless gold skin. Möbius taps the flexi to play the message. Instantly the image of Yen begins to speak in a rich, deep voice.

“Seamus. I know it’s been a long time. I don’t know if you’ve kept up with my news but I’ve kept up with you. You’re Chief Engineer on the Andromeda Ascendant. I know how much that must please you. You always did like to tinker with machines. Did you ever get over that little incident on Tarsus?” Yen laughs. His black eyes sparkle with amusement. “Honestly, Seamus, I had no idea it was against the law there. I’ll bet you’ll think twice before…what did we call it?…oh yes…before you ‘take the situation in hand’ again. Seamus. I know you don’t approve of what I do but I need you to put that aside just this once. I’m calling in that favor. You know I wouldn’t if I had any other option. I don’t. Please help me. I heard about Brandon. I’m sorry. I remember how close you two were. Maybe we can catch up sometime. Share a couple Neu Baryn Weissbrau’s and reminisce. You know how to contact me.”

Möbius scowls fiercely as the message ends. Who is Brandon? What is this man to Harper? A lover? But that’s impossible…isn’t it? Yen deals exclusively with a Nietzschean clientele. Harper will explain this to him. He stands up and heads for the door.

Charlemagne sighs. Möbius has not listened to the coded message imbedded within the first. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m going to need you to get up to speed on this thing right away.”

“I’m going to find out how Harper knows this man.” Möbius pauses in front of the door.

“There may be a reason why he hasn’t told you.” Charlemagne leans forward. He assumes a grave expression. Good. The message is already driving a wedge between Harper and Möbius. If he plays this right, he should have his Chancellor back and functional soon. “Maybe you don’t want to know.”

“I’ll be back.” Möbius stalks out of the Command Center with the flexi clutched in his fist. He ignores the curious stares of the bold and the way the less bold scatter before him. Seamus Zelazny Harper. Harper had not even given him his full name. He has a feeling that the Kodiak knows Harper’s full name. Has the human been toying with him? Did Harper not take his challenge seriously after all? Möbius growls. He will get to the bottom of this little mystery.

****

Harper trudges into his quarters. What’s left for him here? He can’t see staying with Möbius. It would not be fair to either one of them. Möbius is a fine man but he will never feel right. Tyr is now a devoted husband and father-to-be with no time left for a shield brother and he is too proud to accept leftover scraps of affection. Harper’s shoulders droop. He is tired of fighting fate. He’s been alone before and survived. He’ll manage it again. Perhaps the best thing for him will be to just get away from the whole mess. He’ll contact Andromeda and get Beka or Chimaera to pick him up. Maybe a bit of work will help him clear his head.

Harper walks into his bedroom, unbuttoning his dress shirt only to find Tyr sitting on the edge of the bed. Harper blinks in surprise. He tosses his tie on the table, trying to hide the sudden rise of hope. “What are you doing here?”

Tyr looks up. His amber eyes are somber and shadowed. “You fucked him. You fucked him…in our bed.”

Harper looks away. Hot color rises on his cheeks. He’s a little ashamed of that. He should have taken Möbius somewhere else. “It’s not our bed. Not really.”

“It’s the bed I shared with you.” Tyr’s voice is hoarse as he fists his hands in the covers. “We made love in this bed, Seamus!”

Harper frowns, taking refuge in anger. “Only for one night…after that you didn’t touch me. Not even the next day even when I offered you…my ass. I wanted you so much and you turned away from me. You walked out on me.”

“So that makes it alright?” Tyr stands, gripping the covers and yanking them off the bed. He throws the covers on the floor. “That makes it okay for you to fuck the long-haired popinjay in our bed?”

“As I said before, Tyr. At least I didn’t make you watch.” Harper steps closer to the big man; his eyes bright with fury as the memories rise in his head. “At least I didn’t fuck him for hours right in front of you. At least you didn’t have to hear every moan, every gasp, every sigh of pleasure.”

Tyr looks away. His hands flex. “His scent is everywhere. It’s still all over you.”

“What’s your point?”

“You spent last night with him as well?” Tyr drops heavily on the bed. His head bows, his long braids hide his face. “Are you…are you severing ties, Seamus?”

“Why are you here, Tyr?” Harper moves closer. Are those tears that he hears in the unusual hoarseness of Tyr’s voice? He reaches out and tilts the Nietzschean’s face up.

“I came to try to convince you to be patient…to stay with me.” Tyr meets his gaze. The amber eyes are full of pain and shiny with unshed tears. “I came to ask you to forgive me for not explaining everything to you the way I should.”

Harper strokes Tyr’s braids comfortingly. “What about Diana?”

“Diana loves Cerys. You know that.” Tyr sniffs. “She’s pleasant enough and will make a good mother and First Wife but I don’t love her, Seamus.”

Harper sighs and moves forward to stand between Tyr’s spread thighs. Tyr promptly wraps his arms around Harper and presses his face against the human’s stomach, nuzzling. Harper caresses the long braids. “Tyr. There’s just so much that’s happened.”

“Give me the chance to make it up to you. I know you don’t want to but please…let me try to make it up to you,” Tyr pleads, holding the human tight against him.

“Why should I?” Harper asks softly.

Tyr raises his head, looking into Harper’s eyes. A tear slides down his cheek. “Because…I love you.”

“Tyr…” Harper gently wipes the tear away.

“Listen to me. Möbius doesn’t love you. He doesn’t know you.” Tyr searches for understanding in Harper’s eyes. “He hasn’t shared all the things we have.”

Harper tightens his hand in the long braids and tilts Tyr’s head back. He leans forward to capture those lush lips in a kiss. Just as his lips touch Tyr’s the door to Harper’s quarters slams open. Harper looks up, startled to see a furious Möbius marching into the bedroom.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Möbius snarls. His eyes are dark and cold as he stares at them. His bone blades flutter in fury.

Harper tries to move back, hoping to defuse the situation long enough to smooth things over but Tyr’s hard arms tighten possessively around him.

“What are you doing here, Möbius?” Tyr growls menacingly.

Möbius stalks closer. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, old man.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, boy.” Tyr rises, sliding protectively in front of Harper. “Anything dealing with Seamus is my business.”

“Don’t make me kill you Kodiak.” Möbius growls. His bone blades snap out.

“You’re welcome to try.” Tyr’s boneblades quiver against his sinewy forearms.

“This old fossil has nothing to offer you, Harper…or should I call you Seamus?” Möbius hisses with ire but his dark eyes are filled with hurt as he glances at Harper. “He can’t give you the advantages I can. He can’t light up your night with passion the way I can.”

“I’m not going to accept any more challenges from you, youngling.” Tyr’s boneblades snap out. Tyr shifts his stance, trying to ease the coming fight away from Harper’s location.

“Anasazi is old and slow, Harper. I don’t want to have to kill him. Choose me and I’ll spare his life.” Möbius snarls at Tyr. He drops into a fighting stance.

Harper looks from one of his lovers to the other. This is insane. And he is not having it. This is so not going to happen. Harper moves between the two growling Nietzscheans, hoping that neither will attack while he is in the way. He glowers at both of them. “Stop it! Both of you.”

“Get out of the way, Seamus.” Tyr warns, shifting to the side. “I won’t have you hurt.”

“Move Harper.” Möbius growls, attempting to ease around the human.

“For crying out loud! This is insane!” Harper exclaims in exasperation as he moves with them, keeping his position in the center. He has to defuse this somehow. He looks at Möbius. “Möbius. I believe you would kill Tyr for me.”

“That won’t save the old man’s life. He has to accept that I’m better…that my challenge stands. He has to withdraw.” Möbius snarls. His gaze is intent on Tyr. He moves suddenly to one side.

“Listen to me, Möbius!” Harper moves with him. “I believe you will kill for me. What I want to know is would you die for me?”

Möbius blinks. He glances quickly at Harper. “What? What are you asking?”

“The question is simple. Would you die for me?” Harper looks up into the beautiful face, framed by long, black hair. The dark brown eyes are puzzled. “Would you?”

Möbius shakes his head. How can he give an honest answer to such a question? How can he know what he will do until such a time arrives? “I can’t answer that question, Harper. I don’t know.”

“I do.” Harper backs closer to Tyr. He glances over his shoulder at the smile dawning on the beautiful dark face as Tyr realizes what is coming. “Tyr has. He allowed himself to die to save me. I choose him. I choose Tyr.”

“After all he’s put you through…you still choose him over me?” Möbius stiffens. His eyes are hurt and bewildered.

“I love him, Möbius …and he loves me.” Harper can feel the solid warmth of Tyr behind him.

Möbius takes a step back. Everything that he hoped for turned upside down in one morning’s time. He keeps his face blank, trying to hide the extent of his hurt at being rejected. No lover has ever rejected him. Ever. He was always the one who drifted away…who ended the relationship not the other way around. “This can’t be…you chose the Kodiak over me?”

Tyr pulls Harper into his arms, cradling the human against his body. The amber eyes glow with triumph. “Now, go. You have your answer.”

Möbius turns away, unable to look at them then remembers the flexi that he had tucked into his vest when he thought that he would be fighting for Harper. He pulls the flexi out and turns. Perhaps he can at least have a small revenge on the Kodiak. Möbius turns back. His eyes narrow as he looks at Harper. How much of the human’s past has he shared with the Kodiak?

“I almost forgot why I barged in.” Möbius forces a stiff smile to his lips. “I have a message for you, Harper.”

Harper turns curious eyes on him, still cuddled against Tyr. “A message? From who, the boys?”

“No…not from your sons.” Möbius looks at the flexi. His gaze goes to Tyr’s face. Nothing but mild curiosity there. “This message is from an old friend of yours.”

“I don’t know who you mean?” Harper frowns.

“Does the name Troy Yen ring any bells?” Möbius smiles slow and cold at the look of puzzled anger moving over Tyr’s face. The name certainly rang very loud bells in Tyr’s head. He holds the flexi out, silently offering it. “Oh yes, Troy Yen of Morgana’s Drift.”

Tyr stares down at Harper’s surprised face. His arms tighten around the human. “Seamus…can you explain why one of the most famous courtesans of Morgana’s Drift would be sending you a message?”

Harper glares at Möbius. “No. I have no idea.”

“You don’t remember Troy, Harper?” Möbius widens his eyes in simulated amazement. “Well, he certainly seems to remember you. He wrote to you requesting…let’s see what did he say? Oh yes, he wants to call in that favor you owe him.”

“Tyr…I can explain…” Harper turns his head back to meet Tyr’s eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you can…” Möbius smirks. He shoves his hair back, exposing the fading passion marks on his throat. “Is Troy someone else you used and discarded? Or would that be Brandon?”

Harper keeps his gaze on Möbius’ face, refusing to react to the evidence of the pleasures that they had shared. He doubts that any hurt that Möbius feels goes deeper than pique at not being chosen. “Möbius, I’m sorry you’re hurt that I chose Tyr. But lighten up. I never promised we’d be anything more than friends.”

“You told me you would give my offer serious consideration,” Möbius accuses.

“I know what I said.” Harper eases out of Tyr’s arms. “And I did consider it. I thought a lot about it. I decided to keep my relationship with Tyr.”

Möbius’ voice softens. “I care for you, Harper.”

“But you don’t love me and I don’t love you.” Harper shakes his head. “Are you upset, Möbius, because you ‘care’ for me or because I told you ‘no’?”

“You haven’t answered the question, Seamus.” Tyr pulls Harper around to face him. His amber eyes are determined. “How do you know Troy Yen?”

Harper twists away and sits on the bed. “I’ve known Troy for years. We were kids together in Boston…back on Earth. He even hung out with Brandon and me when we were in the resistance. I’ve told you about Brandon, Tyr. He is…was…my cousin.”

“I remember.” Tyr sits next to Harper. He gives the human’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“Yen’s not in the resistance now, is he?” Möbius snipes sullenly.

“No. He’s not.” Harper flashes an annoyed glance at Möbius before, turning back to Tyr. “Troy was on one of our missions to sabotage a meeting of the Drago-Kasov. He got captured. One of the Nietzscheans was nice to him, I guess…I don’t know…but Troy fell for the guy and was taken from Earth when the Nietzschean was relocated.”

Tyr asks quietly, “Did this Nietzschean have a name?”

“Marius…something or other. I think he died in an assassination or coup or something. I don’t know.” Harper shrugs. Troy rarely discussed his lover’s death and had never offered any details on the subject.

Möbius crosses his arms over his chest. His lips curl in scorn. “Do you know how Yen ended up as a high-priced prostitute?”

“He’s a courtesan.” Harper stiffens and glowers at Möbius. It’s a good thing that Troy isn’t here; he could get quite venomous with people who were disrespectful or sanctimonious about his career choices.

“What’s your point?” Möbius raises an eyebrow.

Harper sighs. Fine. It’s Möbius’ funeral if he ever runs into Troy and talks like that. “I’m not really sure how Troy got into the business. After Marius died, I guess he moved around a lot. We stayed in touch.”

Tyr strokes Harper’s back. “You never mentioned him.”

“We’ve never talked about your old friends either, Tyr.” Harper glances at Tyr. His tense muscles relax under the soothing strokes. Harper subtly leans back into the touch.

“True.” Tyr nods.

“I don’t understand why Troy would send a message to me now. How did he know how to find me? How did he know I was here?” Harper frowns. Usually Troy just sent the odd message to the Maru. They had never had a regular correspondence. Just the occasional messages.

“That is odd. When was the last time you had contact?” Tyr asks as he continues the slow stroking of Harper’s back.

Harper thinks a moment. How long had it been? The sporadic nature of their messages made it difficult to remember exactly. “Over three years ago. Before we pulled Andromeda from the black hole.”

Möbius looks thoughtfully at Harper. “So how would Troy know where to send the message?”

“Didn’t I just say that?” Harper snaps. He waves an impatient hand. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“There is another oddity here, Seamus.” Tyr asks, “Why did your friend send the message here to the Jaguar home world and not to the Andromeda?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Tyr’s eyes narrow in thoughtful consideration. “It does…because it has something to do with my new brother-in-law.”

“Charlemagne?” Harper asks, turning to look at Tyr.

“None other.”

Harper’s eyes widen in comprehension and worry. “Yeah…yeah. The message did go to him. The message is not for me. It’s for him.”

“Your friend works for Charlemagne.” Tyr’s amber eyes are full of calculations.

“Oh, boy, then Troy’s in really big trouble.” Harper frowns. Troy always did like dancing on the edge. He hopes that his friend hasn’t danced too close to it this time.

Möbius nods. There is the faintest trace of a smile on his full lips. “He may be dead.”

Harper glares at the Nietzschean. Möbius didn’t have to sound so hopeful about it. Harper deliberately curls up against Tyr’s side. Tyr glances down, his amber eyes lightening with pleasure as he slides his arm securely around Harper.

****

Diana slips softly into her old quarters and looks around. She sighs contentedly at the sight of a white leather skirt heaped in an untidy pile on the floor. A matching vest lies next to it is the matching vest. Diana shakes her head. Ah, she misses tripping over the trail of garments that Cerys always leaves in her wake.

The smile fades from her face as she holds up the vest. The buttons are missing. There are streaks of blood, dried dark on the leather. Diana snatches up the skirt. One seam is ripped partly open, almost to the waistband. Diana whispers, “Cerys?”

Diana drops the garments to the floor. Her bone blades snap erect. She walks softly into the bedroom. Her breath catches painfully in her chest as she stares. Her beautiful Cerys sprawls nude in the center of the bed. Her tangled chestnut hair hides her face. She huddles against the pillow that used to be Diana’s. A rose pink sheet barely covers the full curves of her backside.

Diana eases closer, her eyes widening. Cerys’ back is covered with scratches, bites and passion marks. Well, well. Diana growls low. Little Cerys has been a busy girl. Diana looks quickly around. There is no evidence that Sophia is still in the room. There is a trace of Sophia’s scent but that could be on the clothing…not the bed. Cerys at least had the presence of mind to wash off Sophia’s scent. Diana forces her bone blades flat as Cerys stirs, waking.

Cerys stretches and blinks at Diana through a veil of hair. “Diana? What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you.” Diana sits on the edge of the bed.

Cerys slowly pushes her hair back. “The Kodiak allowed you to come to me?”

“The ‘Kodiak’ went to be with his shieldbrother and I came to be with you…my shieldsister.”

Cerys shakes her head. Her voice is bitter. “So you finally made time for me? How generous of you.”

Diana reaches out to touch Cerys’s chestnut hair. “Don’t be bitchy.”

“I’m not being…what are you doing here, Diana? Were you hoping to find Sophia? Sorry to disappoint you but she’s not here.”

“I know.” Diana sighs.

“Then why did you come?”

Diana strokes Cerys arm lightly. “I knew I owed you an explanation…and an apology.”

“Go on.” Cerys rolls over onto her back, pulling the rose sheet up over her chest.

Diana gasps as she notices little dots of dark red on the sheets. Diana tugs the sheet back. She freezes, staring at the bruises, bites and deep scratches covering her lover’s skin. These were not the usual passion marks. What had Sophia done? “Cerys! What did Sophia do to you?”

“Diana…” Cerys turns her face away.

“These are not the marks of passion, Cerys. I’m calling a healer.” Diana taps the comlink on her gauntlet and summons a healer.

“It’s not a big deal, Diana.”

“Yes it is.” Diana gently turns Cerys’s face back toward her. She strokes the soft cheek. “Tell me what happened so I can rip Sophia’s heart out.”

“Diana…I fought her. Sophia…she didn’t want to believe I was calling it off with her. She didn’t want to take no and she….” Cerys sniffs, fighting back tears.

“Tell me, love…”

“Diana…I had been with Sophia earlier in the evening…at the stables. We…we…made love and I told her that I couldn’t do it anymore.” Cerys looks shyly at Diana. “I told her that I love you.”

“What did Sophia do to you, Cerys?” Diana asks, forcing her voice to stay gentle.

“She tried to…abuse me.”

Diana growls. She softly strokes back Cerys’s long hair. “Rest assured, dear one, that Sophia will not see another dawn.”

Diana holds Cerys’s hand as the healer examines her, dresses her cuts and injects her with nanobots. Diana contacts Tyr and tells him that Cerys is unwell so Diana will be staying with her for a while.

Diana lies down and pulls Cerys into her arms. “I’m never parting from you again. I don’t care what Charlemagne says.”

“What about your Kodiak husband?” Cerys asks, curling up against Diana.

“He has a name, Cerys.” Diana smiles as she strokes Cerys’s hair.

“I know he does. I just can’t bear to say it.” Cerys pouts against Diana’s shoulder.

“Tyr and I have talked. We have an understanding.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, my love that you and I do not have to part.” Diana kisses Cerys’ forehead.

“Ever?” Cerys asks, her eyes full of hope.

“Not ever.”

Cerys sighs with contentment. “What about when the child is born?”

“Tyr and I have agreed that I will raise the child with you.”

Cerys laughs. “Don’t tease, Diana. Your Kodiak…I mean…Tyr. Tyr did not agree to that did he?”

“Yes, he did.” Diana smiles. She kisses Cerys lightly. “He and Harper will want to visit, of course. The twins will be welcome to visit. But we will maintain separate households.”

Cerys snuggles closer, her eyes shining. “This is too good to be true.”

****

Charlemagne Bolivar sits behind his large desk in his Command Center looking across the glossy expanse of wood at Tyr Anasazi and Möbius who are lounging in the chairs opposite. Hmmm. Tyr appears to be in a better frame of mind since the ‘incident’ this morning. Anasazi has an air of smug satisfaction flavored with contentment. Somehow, he doubts that it is his sister that put that look in the Kodiak’s eyes.

Charlemagne glances at Möbius. Hmmm. His Chief Assassin keeps glowering at the Kodiak. Möbius almost smolders with sullen resentment. He lacks the usual blithely confident sparkle. The little kludge did a number on Möbius that’s for certain. Möbius had never been rejected by a lover…and to have that first rejection come from a kludge…that’s a hard blow to Möbius’ prestige. All those that Möbius had rejected will be sniggering gleefully together as soon as word gets out…unless Möbius is seen soon to be publicly involved with someone else, then the Jaguars will assume that Möbius called things off and there will be no loss to Möbius useful aura of omnipotent menace.

He picks up his coffee cup and savors the aroma as he considers. Charlemagne takes a thoughtful sip. He cannot afford to have Möbius operating at less than peak efficiency right now and any loss to Möbius’ prestige will affect his own if he continues to use Möbius. Yes. Yes. That will do. All he has to do to arrange matters so that Möbius not only appears to have another lover but a trophy lover is to make some minor changes to the cover that Möbius will assume for this mission. Who knows? Between Troy’s beauty and Möbius’ current susceptibility to kludges the cover may become real. Charlemagne’s lips twitch in amusement. Yes, this new mission will end with Möbius restored to his usual efficiency. Certainly news of the role that he is to play should jar Möbius out of his sullen fit.

Will his new brother prove a problem? Anasazi is astute but that is one of the reasons he selected the Kodiak for his sister. The Kodiak is lounging back in his chair in apparent ease but there is a faint frown and a watchful glint in the amber eyes that says that he is a man who is adding up the elements of a problem and finding the results dubious. Anasazi glances at Möbius and the frown vanishes, the full lips quirk in a triumphant smirk. Charlemagne sighs. What is it about the Harper kludge that has reduced these two ruthless, intelligent men to pudding?

Charlemagne captures his brother-in-law’s gaze. “Brother, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“This sounds like something that’s going to be more expensive than I have resources to pay.” Tyr’s eyes narrow with interest and suspicion.

Charlemagne gives him a reproachful look. As if he would risk irreparable damage to such an amusing and useful brother. “Actually I need both of you for a mission.”

“What mission?’ Möbius asks. His full lips are still set in a sullen line but there is a flicker of interest in the dark eyes.

Charlemagne raises his coffee cup to his lips. “I need both of you to go to Morgana’s Drift and take care of a package for me.”

Möbius smirks. “You want us to kill Troy Yen? Don’t waste my time. You can send one of my men to do that?”

“I’m sure if the Archduke wants both of us to go to Morgana’s Drift then obviously the demise of Yen is not the goal.” Tyr sneers at his former rival.

Charlemagne lounges back in his chair. Möbius is distracted or he would not have given Tyr the opportunity to score off him again. He cannot allow Möbius to continue this way. “Troy Yen must be extracted from Morgana’s Drift and it must not look as if Pride Jaguar has had a hand in it.”

Möbius spreads his hands. There is finally a faint gleam of interest in the dark eyes. “Why is this man so important? Why must this extraction be handled delicately?”

Tyr sighs. “Don’t tell me. It’s because he’s officially allied with the Drago-Kasov pride, yes?”

“Correct, Brother.” Charlemagne takes a sip of coffee.

Möbius frowns at Tyr. “If this is true, Charlemagne, then Anasazi should not go. The Drago-Kasov have sworn to kill him on sight.”

“This is why you must have a cover to approach Yen.” And what an amusing cover it will be. He can hardly wait to see Möbius’ face when he reveals it. Charlemagne glances down, hiding the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

Tyr stares suspiciously. “A simple extraction is not possible, I take it.”

His brother is still calculating and weighing schemes, trying to see which way he is going with this. Charlemagne offers an approving smile that he knows will make his new brother even more suspicious. Tyr is going to make a most entertaining relative. That was another reason that he selected the Kodiak for his sister. “No. It won’t. Since Yen is a courtesan it will be more believable if one of you poses as a client and the other as the bodyguard.”

Tyr and Möbius exchange appalled looks and say in unison. “No!”

Oh, the horror of it all. One would think that he is demanding that they snuggle up to a Magog rather than offering the opportunity to get personal with a beautiful courtesan. Charlemagne smirks. “Because I cannot trust either of you to work this out. I am going to make the assignments. Tyr will serve as bodyguard and you, my friend, will be Yen’s new client.”

Möbius surges to his feet. The sullenness is gone. The air around him practically crackles with anger. “No. Let Anasazi be the human’s client. He loves kludges anyway. He has more experience at this then I do. I’ll serve as bodyguard.”

Oh, good. He now has Möbius’ full attention for the first time this morning. Definite progress in his little assassin rehabilitation program. Charlemagne gazes back at the angry assassin with an air of mild interest. “Möbius, I would think you would enjoy the challenge. You will have to be believable in your role. There must be no doubt that you are sincerely seeking an alliance with Yen. Your recent experience with kludges makes you uniquely suited to this assignment.”

Möbius slumps back in his chair. His wide eyes reveal sudden comprehension that this is payback for all the trouble that he created with the kludge. He begins weakly, “I don’t think…”

Charlemagne coolly interrupts the faint protest. “There’s also the fact that my new brother-in-law is in two…that is correct is it not? You have reconciled to the little trouble-making kludge, yes?”

Tyr slides a hand over his chest, drawing attention to the marks there. He smiles smugly at Möbius. “Oh, yes”

Charlemagne turns his icy gaze back to Möbius. His lips tilt in a smile at the stunned expression on his assassin’s face. “So you see. You are the best candidate for this role.”

Tyr makes a show of looking Möbius over. His voice is poisonously sweet. “Yen does look like more your type. You are, as you have said, young and virile.”

TBC