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Authors: Robin L. Rotham

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BOOK: Amorous Overnight
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“Because if I start, I might not be able to stop,” he confessed roughly. “Then where would we be?”

She hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You don’t have to do it all alone this time, Hastion,” she whispered against his ear. “I’m here. Let me help you bear it.”

Tears burned in his eyes and he took a panicked step back, but she didn’t let go.

“Jasmine,” he gasped, trying to pry her arms loose. “Please…”

“None of this is your fault.”

A sob tore from his throat. And then another. Grief knocked his knees from under him and Jasmine followed him down awkwardly, holding him while he wept.

“We were supposed to protect them,” he choked out. “They were supposed to be safe here with us.”

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated firmly.

He wept for what felt like hours as they knelt there on the floor, but finally the well of tears ran dry. Then he almost regretted the loss of them, for it felt as though they’d lubricated the pain. Now that he’d shed them, the edge of grief was sharper, more jagged.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know how much you loved them.”

“I feel…useless.”

She backed away enough to look at him, but didn’t let him go. “Oh, Hastion, we all do when something like this happens. But it’s not true.”

“How can I face Shelley? We’ve given her nothing but grief and pain.”

“She loves you, and I know for a fact you’ve given her a lot more than that.”

He focused on her then. “I’m sorry, Jasmine.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do. I avoided you for months because I was…jealous.” He sighed deeply. “You were so perfect, and I was so far from it…”

She rolled her eyes. “Jesus, why does everyone think I’m perfect? I hate that.”

“I don’t mean perfect.” He frowned. “You’re actually very much like me, but the same attributes that are admired in females are frowned upon in males.”

“You mean being submissive and a servant at heart.”

He nodded.

“There are people who love you and understand you and value you for who you are,” she said. “Who cares what everyone else thinks?”

“When those who
don’t
are your father and your primary mate, it’s rather difficult to accept.”

Jasmine frowned. “Well I can’t speak for Minister Cecine, but your father is very proud of you, Hastion.” When he raised a skeptical brow, she insisted, “Really. I’ve visited him a couple of times and he told me all about how you took care of everyone when the biowar virus came through. He said you coped with it all alone because he felt too decimated and helpless to be of use. If anything, I think he feels unworthy of you.”

“He sent me away.”

“Yes, I know. He thought he’d failed you completely. Typical paternal reaction to perceived gayness in a son. But times have changed, and now he thinks you were just ahead of your time—which you were,” she added with a little smile. “So yeah, he may have a little difficulty relating to you, but he accepts you and loves you and is proud of you all the same. Never doubt it.”

He took a deep cleansing breath. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Hey, that’s what sisters are for.”

He smiled and hugged her tightly. “You’ll forgive me for avoiding you?”

“As long as you promise never to do it again.”

“I promise.”

“Now will you eat some breakfast?”

He stood up and offered her a hand. “If you insist.”

 

 

Shelley walked into the dining room, still trembling, but this time with excitement and nerves. Hastion was at the table with Jasmine. He stood up and kissed her temple. “Are you all right, Shelley?”

Sliding her hand into his, she nodded, her heart pounding. She was taking a very big risk, the biggest of her life, and so was Empran. She couldn’t afford to screw this up. “I’m fine, but can we find someplace to talk? There’s something I need to tell you.”

Jasmine jumped up from her seat. “I’ll just go check on the minister and see if there’s anything he needs.”

“Thanks, Jasmine,” Shelley said with a grateful smile.

Hastion let her lead him to the couch and continued to hold her hand when they sat.

Taking an unsteady breath, she plunged in. “Okay, first I need you to promise that you’ll listen with an open mind and not go spouting off deactivation codes.”

Hastion frowned. “Deactivation codes?”

“Empran has some very important information that she got through, um…dubious means, and she knows it might cause her to be deactivated, but she feels it’s vital that we know.”

“When did you start communicating with Empran?”

“Today, but that’s not the issue here. Please, just promise me.”

Though he looked wary, he nodded. “All right, I promise I’ll listen carefully.”

“Okay, thank you.” She took another deep breath and plowed ahead. “Empran has proof that Monica and the kids might be alive.”

Hastion jerked, his eyes going wide. “By all the Powers! What sort of proof?”

“I have detected an anomalous reading on sensors at the Boroulia portal.”

“Why are you monitoring the Boroulia sensors?”

Shelley was startled to hear Hastion’s reply in her head. Empran must have opened her cerecom to his transmissions too. Under other circumstances, the idea of a three-way with Hastion and Empran would have had her in stitches.

“I’ve been searching for Monica and the twins. I have reason to believe they were abducted by Narthani.”

He frowned.
“What reason?”

Empran was silent.

“Empran, why do you believe they are alive?”
he insisted.

“It’s…complicated.”

He scowled at Shelley. “That sounds like something Monica would say.” Then he went back to the cerecom.
“Explain, Empran.”

“I mean there is no evidence per se.”

“Then why do you search for them?”

“Because I know Monica is alive.”

Unease blossomed on his face and Shelley fought down her rising panic. “Hastion, don’t do anything,” she ordered. “Please. Just listen.
And Empran, get to the point before he shuts you down.

It was Hastion’s turn to look startled. Obviously he could hear her too.

“Sensors detected a momentary distortion in the starfield at the time of the pod explosion. The same distortion has occurred twenty-three times since at regular intervals, moving in a tactical-evasion pattern that originated at your current coordinates.”

“By all the Powers…” He sat forward on the sofa.
“Have the Narthani developed cloaking technology?”

“Officially, no. However, my research into Narthani classified files reveals experiments with cloaking systems beginning thirty-two years ago. It is reasonable to assume there is a prototype by now.”

“Mother of Peserin, they could be alive.”

“I told you!” Shelley vibrated with excitement. “Let’s go after them.”

Hastion grimaced. “It isn’t as easy as jumping in a taxi and yelling ‘Follow that car,’ Shelley. We’ll need an interstellar ship, ideally one with flare jumping capability. A vessel like the
Heptoral
.”

“Cecine is the commander of everything, isn’t he? Can’t he authorize it?”

“Shelley…” he turned toward the stairs, gazing at the upper level as if he could see Cecine up there, “…what if Empran is wrong? What if the distortion has nothing to do with the twins?”

“Don’t even think that. They’re alive. I know it.”

“I know you do, but the minister won’t be so easy to convince. He might just deactivate Empran and then we’d have no way to pursue them.”

“Then Kellen.”

“The commander isn’t in any condition to think rationally or make plans beyond Monica’s dedication ceremony. I’ll have to take the ship myself.”

“What about Shauss? You’re pretty good friends with him, aren’t you?”

Hastion shook his head. “Even if he would, I won’t put him in the position of having to risk his military career.”

“But—”

“No, Shelley. It’s my responsibility.”

“You think you can just hot-wire the
Heptoral
and drive away without help from anyone?” she asked with wide eyes.

“Most of the crew is planetside while refitting is underway. I think I could do it with Empran’s assistance.”

“I will provide any orders required to send the Heptoral after Monica and the babies,”
Empran said at once.
“Once you’re aboard, I’ll sever communications so that no one outside the ship can deactivate me. Your career will not be in jeopardy, Hastion, if I give you falsified orders.”

“But
you
will be in jeopardy, Empran. This will be a suicide mission for you.”

Shelley’s eyes filled but she didn’t speak. God, how could a computer be such a selfless, unfailing friend?

“I am aware of that,”
Empran replied serenely.
“If Monica and the babies are alive, being deactivated will be a small price to pay for getting them back. If they’re not, I would just as soon not have to live with the pain.”

After a moment, Hastion nodded.
“Then let’s not delay another second.”

 

 

So he’d finally driven them away.

Cecine watched with burning eyes as the pod flew off, finally allowing himself a deep, painful breath. Hastion had come into the office long enough to inform him that the twins’ dedication ceremony would be performed on Ryola, at his father’s house, and that he and Shelley would be departing immediately.

“Do as you wish,” Cecine had said without even looking up. He had no intention of ever viewing their memorial plates, or Monica’s, no matter where they were laid.

As soon as the shuttle disappeared into the low clouds, he turned back to his desk. “Armitran, terminate playback and permanently delete all my personal files.”

The holoscreen over his desk, playing footage of Wyatt and Kallie frolicking in the surf with Shelley and Hastion, disappeared. “Files deleted.”

He stood and stripped out of his boots and uniform with hands that had refused to remain steady since the instant the shuttle pod exploded. Walking out of the house through the lower deck, he made his way across the estate, his trembling legs gaining speed despite the steepening incline. Ever since he returned from the sparse debris field, he’d done nothing but stare at images of those he’d loved and lost. The memories had swarmed over his skin like plasma ghosts with every breath he took, filling his eyes, his mouth, his nostrils and his lungs with prickly fire, and now he itched to finally be free of this physical form that had accumulated so much pain and regret over the course of its existence.

“Armitran, sever cerecom contact, authorization
voya kiprin ayera voya
.”

“Affirmative. Severing contact.”

He continued striding uphill, seeing the babies’ smiling faces, smelling their sweet skin, feeling their hands wrapped around his fingers. Monica—such a vibrant, unexpected delight—and her mother Cecilia, without whose love he would never have known what he was fighting for in those bleak, early years of the resistance. Raia and Lstel, who’d gone against everything they were taught by their mother to rescue him. Draeda, who’d died without even knowing why.

And now Hastion and Shelley…

So many he’d loved.

Too many he’d failed.

The trees gave way to a sharp, grassy incline and he broke into a sprint, tears streaming down his face as he imagined his skin falling away from his bones, and along with it, the pain he could no longer bear. When he reached the cliff’s crumbling edge, he flew over and was free.

Chapter Twenty-Six

When it came time to climb the shuttle ramp, Shelley found herself in the grip of unexpected dread and stopped abruptly enough that Hastion bumped into her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that leaving now was a horrible mistake.

“Something’s wrong,” she told him, turning to look back in the direction of the house. They were departing from the shuttle pad they’d landed on that first day, so the building was out of sight behind the rise. Not being able to see it made Shelley feel panicky and desperate.

“Shelley-Belle, the shuttle pod is safe,” he said with a sympathetic look.

“This has nothing to do with the shuttle,” she said impatiently. And it didn’t, even after she’d seen the one carrying her children blown to bits. “I just…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Something just feels very, very
wrong
.”

At that moment, Shauss and Tiber popped out of a flare bubble at the base of the ramp. Tiber wore a look of concern, but Shauss just looked like his usual arrogant, suspicious self.

“Hastion, what in the name of all the Powers are you doing?” he demanded without preamble.

“I’m sure Jasmine told you we’re dedicating the twins on Ryola.”

“She did, and I find it difficult to believe that you’d abandon the minister in his darkest hour.”

BOOK: Amorous Overnight
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