Epilogue

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’d given up hope at times. Now she was his.

She would be coming up to her room soon; 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 he’d returned to Discovery station for his sister. She had been kidnapped, according to the little kitchen slave, or she ran away. There were all kinds of theories, but each ended with the same cold truth. Her implant had been found in the station’s recycling pit. No one could survive such a fate. 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 at the hostel, but she was lucky to be alive. Of course, her luck was about to change, he thought with grim humor. She’d survived the Pilgrims’ disastrous attack on the Saurellians, 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. “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.

“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… Everything except her, the woman waiting for him in his ship. She was his love, his life, his prisoner. She was all he had left.

He went over to the window, opening it silently, then crawled out on to the roof.

The planet where Jenner’d taken refuge was backward, and security was poor. It had been ridiculously easy to break in and find her. 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; Nestoria was too insignificant to have a true space port. Carefully checking to make sure no one had followed him, he palmed the airlock open and stepped in.

As always, his eyes flew to her cell in the corner. She was sitting on her little bench, watching him with dark eyes. Still, after all these months, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone in the ship without locking her in. He told her it was to keep her from sabotaging his equipment, but the real reason was fear. He lived in fear that she would find a way to leave him.

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. Once upon a time she would have been too fearful to speak to him this way. Those times were long gone.

“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, 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.

Загрузка...