The High Priestess (6 page)

For once, her Lady’s peace was nowhere to be found.

Questions bubbled up behind her lips, but only one wriggled free. “Why has it taken so long to reach the warp point?” She’d never had the resources or desire to fly before, but from what she’d overheard while picking pockets in the market, it was barely two days to the warp point everyone used out of Keiluna. While her timing might be somewhat off, she’d definitely been in this room more than two days.

“It’s taken as long as it needed to.”

That was no answer at all, but she was unlikely to get a better one. “As you say.” Marianna jumped when he wrapped a hand around her upper arm, half guiding, half towing her down the corridor to the lift. They passed several doors that probably housed crew rooms, but there was no way to tell for sure.

She was fine until the lift doors shut, closing them in. A band of fear wrapped around her chest, constricting until spots danced behind her eyes. Marianna swayed, trying to temper her building panic. But the events of the last few days had worn down her hard-won control. A sob built in her throat, her skin feeling as if it were two sizes too small. Too close. It was too close in here. Impossible to believe there was enough air. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Time slowed, each heartbeat so loud in her ears that it drowned out everything else. Marianna tried to take a step away from Gerard, to achieve some space, but her knees gave out.

She never hit the floor.

He caught her around the waist, arms tightening to an almost painful level. Being closed in further should have increased her panic, but instead it beat back the waves of fear crashing over her. She closed her eyes, a single tear breaking free and sliding down her cheek.

“Don’t cry.”

The brusque command gave her the strength to open her eyes and face the tiny lift. It must have stopped moving while she was in the midst of her meltdown because the doors were standing open. “I’m not.”

He released her, taking his warmth with him. Marianna chose not to examine that the very man who signed her death warrant was the same one who comforted her when she was at her weakest. Without looking back, she stumbled into the hallway, arms wrapped around herself. The feeling of spinning out of control continued even though she was no longer in the lift, panic and fear and anger twisting around inside her, more terrifying than the worst of Keiluna’s winter storms. Her shoulder hit the wall before Marianna was aware she was weaving. She clutched herself tighter, trying to hold in the sound demanding to be voiced, but it was no use.

Instead of the shriek she envisioned, it came out as a low keen. She slid to the floor, her hands against her face as if that would stop the tears. The sound kept coming, on and on, until she was convinced it would be the last sound she was capable of making.

This time, when Gerard touched her, she was having none of it. She would not find comfort, not from him. She scooted away, shaking her head.

“Marianna…please.”

He reached for her again, but she shoved his hands away. The only warning she got was a hard look before he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her through the nearest door. It turned out to be a med bay, as she discovered when he dropped her on the nearest cot. The force of impact shocked her enough to stop that terrible noise coming out of her throat.

Gerard ran his hands through his hair, his jaw clenching. “The tears—you need to stop. I can’t handle it.” He opened a cabinet to grab a washcloth. After wetting it in a small sans sink, he walked back to her and, almost timidly, reached out to wipe her cheeks.

The absurdity of his comment gave her the pause she needed to fight for control. Marianna held her breath and closed her eyes, the strength leeching from her body as his thumbs traced over her cheeks. The man was so full of contradictions—one moment harsh and unforgiving, the next he was touching her as if she were the most precious thing in the universe. She finally opened her eyes and leaned back, unable to bear it any longer. “Please stop.”

He dropped his hand but didn’t move back. “I truly am sorry.”

“It doesn’t really change anything, does it? You can be sorry as much as you like, but I am still going to die horrifically.” Unless she could convince him to set her free. Marianna tilted her head up, watching him watch her mouth.

She licked her lips as he leaned forward, intent clear in his expression. This time Gerard made the first move, his mouth crashing into hers. The barely restrained violence of his lips and tongue—and, yes, teeth—made her writhe against him, forgetting that
she
was supposed to be seducing
him
. Marianna gripped the front of his shirt, giving in when he pushed her onto her back and climbed on top of her.

Gerard settled into the cradle of her hips, moaning against her mouth when she wrapped her legs around him. His hands felt so big when he ran them over her body, stripping off her shirt in a smooth motion. Desire hardened her nipples as Gerard pushed up to look at her bare breasts, the move rubbing his length against her core. All worries and fears disappeared beneath the need to have him inside her. Marianna fumbled with his pants, finally giving up and ripping at his shirt instead. He gave a breathless curse and pulled it off, collapsing back on top of her and reclaiming her mouth.

Having his bare skin against her own was almost too good to bear. She needed more. So much more.

They both froze when the door slid open. Gerard gave a growl worthy of any Beshmaiite and snatched his shirt, using it to cover her nakedness. She couldn’t move, pinned beneath his body, but Marianna got a good view of Fisk’s shocked face before Gerard shouted,
“Out!”

One look at Gerard’s closed-off expression was all she needed. There would be no more chances for seduction in the future. Ladydamnit.

“You’re being a Ba’al-damned idiot.” Fisk dropped his hand when Adam and Blaine walked into the hub. The redhead glanced at Marianna and blushed, moving to the chair farthest from her. Adam looked at her, too, but his gaze lingered in a predatory way.

“My, my, my, what a pretty little thing you are.” Adam leaned down and brushed a strand of hair from her face, speaking in a low voice. “The boss has been keeping you from me, but soon enough we’ll have an opportunity to be alone. Promise.”

Gerard didn’t realize he’d moved until Fisk stopped him with a hand to the chest. “Get strapped in, Adam,” the other man said. “We’re almost to the warp point.”

Adam looked from Fisk to Gerard, his cool blue eyes seeing too much. “I’m aware of that.”

“Then stop yapping and sit down.” Gerard didn’t move, forcing Adam to skirt around him to get into the cockpit. Fisk shook his head and followed Adam, leaving Gerard to take care of himself. The knot in his shoulders didn’t loosen until the door slid shut between them.

When he dropped into the seat next to Marianna, he could feel the tension pulsing off her in waves. Every instinct Gerard possessed demanded he reach out—comfort her, hold her, protect her. It was only through sheer willpower—and Blaine’s presence beside him—that he strapped himself in and leaned his head back without looking over.

They hit the warp point with no warning from Adam—typical—and the ship shuddered, all the bits and pieces rattling. If he hadn’t heard it a thousand times before, he’d be concerned the damned thing was going to fly apart under the pressure.

Marianna made a small sound, a combination of a choked scream and a gasp, her hands grasping for the harness. It was too much. Gerard grabbed the one hand he could reach and pressed it against her lap. “All will be well.”

“Please. Stop. Touching. Me.”

“I will when we’re through.” He massaged her fingers, ignoring the tension there, and trying not to be bothered by it. The ship gave one final squeal and then they were back into straight space.

She freed her hands and rubbed at her arms. “So cold.”

“What?” Gerard unhooked himself and turned to face her. All color was leeched from Marianna’s skin, her breath coming in little pants as she attempted to curl in upon herself. It didn’t work—the harness kept her from succeeding. He got her out of it as quickly as possible, which wasn’t easy to do with the shivers racking her body.

“Come here.” He lifted her, ignoring Blaine’s wide-eyed look, and strode from the hub. Remembering Marianna’s reaction to the lift, he took the stairs. By the time he hit the second deck, her shivers had lost their violence. Gerard stopped in front of her door, torn between the desire to let go and walk away, and the desire to go into her cabin and ensure she was okay.

Except she wasn’t okay.

Marianna pressed a hand against his chest. “You can put me down now, Gerard.”

He didn’t want to, but he obeyed, then watched as she walked into her cabin without looking back.

…

Marianna sat cross-legged on her cot, shuffling her cards. She had managed to hold off doing a reading up until now for fear of what it might say, but it was time. The Lady had pushed her into this situation for a reason. She had to believe the end result wouldn’t be another pointless Diviner death at the altar of Sanctify’s bloodthirsty god.

Trying to ignore the way her hands shook, she dealt out a full reading in a
V
formation. It wasn’t a spread she normally did, but it felt right for the situation.

She ignored the temptation to flip them all at once, instead starting with the card representing the past. “The Star.” Well, that was no surprise—if Darla hadn’t found her, saved her from those men, her life would have turned out a lot differently. The older girl had taken her in, taught her how to survive, offered her hope. Marianna returned the favor as often as she could, helping others whenever she had the capabilities to do so, but she was only one person, and some of them fell through the cracks. It wasn’t something she liked to think about.

Moving on to the present, she was similarly unsurprised. The Hanged Man. Since she was in a situation where she couldn’t move forward and was forced to simply react to others’ actions, it made sense. The future seemed almost to contradict it, though. Seven of Wands. Continue soldiering on and fighting.

Frustrated, she flipped the remaining cards, taking in the reading as a whole. The presence of The Lovers seemed to indicate that she was on the correct track with her attempts to seduce Gerard. Good. And not solely because she longed for another opportunity to kiss him again. The man might be gruff and nearly unbearable, but he made her head spin and her blood heat.

The Emperor was an outside influence. She stroked the bearded face on the card.
Gerard
. It all kept coming back to him. He was her way out. The Nine of Wands made her think that perhaps her efforts weren’t in vain. And then the final outcome—Justice.

Panic fluttered inside her throat, but she beat it back. There was hope of justice being served, but it was not without a price. She would not go to her death quietly—was grateful the Lady didn’t ask such an impossible task of her. As she gathered up the cards, one fell out, landing face up.

The High Priestess.

She picked it up and tapped it against her knee, staring at the picture on the card. Trust her intuition. So be it. Marianna slipped her cards back into their bag, mind still preoccupied with searching out the different meanings of the Lady’s message. There was a way out. There had to be.