Angels and Ministers of Grace Read online

  He almost groaned aloud, remembering why he'd come in the first place, to inform them. But his need to escape had doubled with her woebegone expression. It made him want to touch her, to hold and comfort her. And he had his suspicions that it was deliberate too, damn her. "Coop hasn't told you anything?" he asked stiffly, though he knew the answer.

  "He says they're doing their best, but he avoids details. I gather the man hasn't been caught yet." She peeked up at him through her silver lashes in a way that made his heart throw a small seizure.

  Clenching his jaw and shaking his head, he gestured for her to return to the sofa. "I'll tell you what I can."

  Her smile was blinding, and he trailed after her into the living room like a man on his way to his execution. Damned woman probably thought she'd manipulated him into doing exactly what she wanted, and that thought made the muscles at the back of his neck tighten into a painful knot.

  The four women sat on the sofa, but Jason was too edgy to sit facing them in the overstuffed chair across the coffee table from them. There was just enough room between the chair and the table to pace, so that's what he did while giving them a terse account of their progress. He allowed no room for questions, even when the Thlassnian gave a sharp exclamation at the mention of a Dreamer on board the station. When he finished, Jason immediately turned to the door.

  "Wait!" Anya exclaimed, and reluctantly he paused to look over his shoulder at her. She'd risen to her feet with an anxious expression on her lovely face. "Do—do you have a minute, Lieutenant Commander? I'd like to ask you a few questions."

  With an impatient grimace that he didn't bother to hide, he turned back around, standing with his hands fisted in the small of his back. Anya sank back down onto the cushion slowly.

  "Won't you sit down?"

  "What are your questions?"

  Her back stiffened as though he'd offended her, but her expression and tone were mild as she responded, "I was wondering if you'd contacted the Guild at all."

  "We have. They've denied sending someone after you, but they're calling you a danger to society and demand that we hold you for them."

  "What—what was your reply?"

  "The captain said no." Actually, the captain's exact words had been, "If you want her, come get her," but Jason didn't think they needed to hear that just now.

  "What does she mean to do if they come here? Officially, I mean?"

  "That's not something we need to worry about for a while," Jason evaded, hoping she'd let that drop. If the captain hadn't told her, he certainly wasn't going to.

  "I would like to contact my people," the Thlassnian spoke up unexpectedly. Her eyes caught the light in a sudden violent twist of color as he glanced at her.

  "No. Any communication over the vids can be tampered with."

  "Then ask if they would visit."

  "Can't do that. If anyone visits, that'll bring them to the attention of the telepath. I can't protect everyone on the station from this guy, so no visitors."

  She inclined her head slowly in assent, the fine scales of her hairless scalp gleaming in a rainbow of blues. "I do not wish to place anyone else in danger. But I do wish to convey my respects. It would be unacceptable for me not to do at least that. May I send a message with you, Lieutenant Commander?"

  He agreed with a terse nod, but was unable to keep his eyes from returning to Anya even when the Thlassnian rose to move with impossible grace into the other room. "Any more questions?"

  "Do you think you'll ever catch this man?"

  "Eventually." He tried to put confidence in his reply, but wasn't sure that he'd been successful.

  Her expression didn't look all that relieved. "What are the odds that the Froozians will be able to track him down?"

  He fought with himself for a second, but finally decided on the truth. "Not that good. We're not really compatible, us and them. The way we think is too different."

  She nodded and then stared down at her clasped hands with a faint frown. Jason shifted in place, longing to escape but held there by his promise to take the Thlassnian's message. After a moment, Anya looked up at him again.

  "Thank you for taking the time to tell us these things, Lieutenant Commander. Not that it's particularly good news, but it's better than being in the dark."

  "I'll make sure that Coop keeps you informed from now on." Her smile drove straight through his gut, and he glanced toward the other room desperately. What was taking the Thlassnian so long?

  "Thank you. I was wondering—"

  With hypnotic grace, the alien woman glided out of the other room with a small screen in her hand, interrupting Anya. "I'll understand if you cannot deliver this yourself, Lieutenant Commander."

  "That won't be a problem." Jason took the screen with a nod and headed toward the door with relief. "Remember, no more visitors."

  "I did promise," Anya said to his back, but he didn't look around until she continued, "The captain is coming to dinner tonight. Would you care to join us?"

  One quick glance showed him that she was on her feet again, that anxious look back on her face. A complicated heat warmed his skin, making it impossible for him to be polite. "No," he rasped without breaking his stride out the door. Ignoring the crisp salutes from the guards, he stalked down the corridor and away from temptation.

  Chapter 7

  "I don't get it." Jarden was staring at the closed door that Salvatore had just walked through, after having refused Anya's invitation with stunning rudeness.

  Anya slumped back into the cushions of the sofa, closing her eyes to shut out the rejection. "I don't either," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I've never had anybody not like me for no reason before."

  "Not like you?" Jar's incredulous tone made Anya roll her head to look at her. "Are you kiddin' me? The man couldn't take his eyes off you the entire time he was in here, even when Ces made a move…or when Rie got up to get her message. You know how people can't help staring when Rie moves."

  "He was angry with me, that's all. At least he had a reason, this time. He's always so angry…it just flows out of him."

  "I don't know anything about that, sugar. All I know is the man likes what he sees when he looks at you. What I don't get, though, is why he's resisting it."

  Anya felt her cheeks warm with what had to be a stupid rise in hope when she knew Jar had to be wrong. She had almost seen heat waves coming off of him, his fury had been so strong when he'd come in. And it hadn't abated that much the entire time he was here except when he'd spoken to Rie, so she knew exactly who was the cause of it. She just didn't know why.

  She also didn't know why it mattered so much. The man was impossibly rude, overbearing, arrogant, and downright prickly. She should have been deeply offended and put off by that kind of behavior. The type of men she was attracted to were easy going, warm, and sweet. There was nothing warm and sweet about Jason Salvatore. But god, did he smell good! And nobody should look that good in a uniform.

  The silence in the room brought Anya out of her bemused thoughts, and she glanced up to see all three of them staring at her with varying degrees of amusement. They might not be empathic, but they knew her very well, these friends of hers. Her face felt hot all of a sudden, and she knew her cheeks had to be bright red, but she tried to brazen it out anyway. "What?"

  "Girl, you sure do know how to pick 'em!" Chuckling, Jar wandered into the kitchen to pour a glass of punch. "Is it the challenge or what?"

  "I don't know what you mean," Anya muttered dispiritedly, knowing none of them would buy her protest.

  Ces plopped down next to her on the sofa with a wide grin. "Well, he didn't want me!" She didn't look at all put out by that. Ces didn't get rejected very often, so when it happened, she was usually philosophical about it. There were too many others who would say yes to worry about the stray ones who said no. "I think you've got a shot, Ani."

  "A shot at what?" she snorted, glaring with a certain amount of resentment at the door he'd vanished through. "
At being baked alive in sheer fury? I don't know what you've seen, but I know what I felt. The man's got a chip on his shoulder with my name on it, and it hasn't gotten any smaller since we've been here."

  "He is not a simple man." Rie's contribution was met with rolling eyes from Ces and a snort of amusement from Jar, but she ignored the other two and watched Anya with solemn eyes. "Do not assume that he is all that you see on the surface."

  Before she could ask her friend just what the hell that was supposed to mean, the door chimed discreetly. "Hello?"

  "It's Frank."

  "Come on in."

  The older man entered with a sheepish grin and a hesitant air. He looked like he expected a set down, and Anya remembered that he had kept them in the dark.

  Smiling gently at him, she waved him toward the chair across from her. "Come sit, Frank. Would you like something to drink?"

  "That's okay. I know you're probably mad at me…"

  Cesna bounced up and skipped over to him, slipping an arm through his and beaming a glorious smile up at him. "Don't be silly, Frankie! Why would we be mad at you?" Tugging on his arm, she led him to the seat like a lamb to slaughter while Anya tried to cover a smile. Sometimes she thought Ces was the most devious of the four of them, capable of so much more than her sweet nature implied.

  "Well," he mumbled warily, "I haven't exactly kept you ladies informed of the events. Jace tells me I'm to answer all your questions as best I can." He was a little flushed from Ces's attentions, shooting her glances from under his bushy eyebrows to where she sat on the arm of the chair and leaned over him. Every time she caught his eye, she'd smile sweetly and his flush would deepen a bit more.

  Anya felt a certain amount of sympathy for the man, but wasn't above using Ces as a distraction. "That would be helpful, Frank. How is the second search proceeding?"

  "Fine, fine. Ah…well, we haven't turned up anything yet, but this one's going slower so our people can be really thorough. We've got new equipment on it, too—scanners that are connected to the central system, so if they go off and we don't hear it 'cause he's messing with our heads, those that aren't at the scene can tell us that he's close by."

  "That's good thinking, Frank. The lieutenant commander tells us that the alien telepaths…"

  "The Froozies."

  "Umhmm—that they haven't been very helpful."

  "Oh, they're plenty willing, just not the right brain shrinkers for the job," he said, but then his eyes widened as he looked at Anya. "Uh—begging your pardon, ma'am."

  "The name's Anya, and there's no need for pardons."

  "S-sure…" He was completely flustered now, since Ces had crossed her legs and was gently bouncing one against his knee.

  Anya nearly laughed at the panic in his eyes and the way he passed a shaky hand over his head, the bald spot shiny with sweat. She took pity on him. "Ces, could you get Frank something to drink? He looks parched."

  Ces pouted prettily, but winked at Anya as she turned toward the kitchen. Ducking her head to hide her smile, Anya continued in a casual tone, "Salvatore also said no visitors—but I guess you and he and the captain are exceptions. The captain is coming to dinner tonight. Would you like to join us?"

  "That's really nice of you, but I can't. I don't think the captain would appreciate me butting in or getting around my duties like that."

  "Is that what she would think? That doesn't seem likely since it's after your shift ends."

  He grinned, confidence restored now that Ces was not practically sitting in his lap. "My shift never ends, ma'am—uh, Anya."

  "That's terrible! Don't they let you have some time off?"

  "Well, if you'll think about it, now's not really a good time to take a vacation. Besides, I love my job. Taking care of you ladies hardly seems like work."

  She smiled fondly at him, but his attention was snagged by Ces's return with his drink. Completely ignoring his nervous regard, the redhead handed him the glass and sat down next to Anya without ceremony. Anya pressed her lips together, not sure if the older man's expression was relief or disappointment. "The lieutenant commander was invited, but he refused—rudely. Does his shift never end either?"

  Frank grimaced down into his drink. "Sorry if he was rude. Jace sometimes forgets that not everybody is part of his staff. He works like a dog and doesn't get out much, so he can be short sometimes. And this whole thing with the telepath is driving him nuts."

  "Not surprising," she murmured, studying the lieutenant speculatively. Throwing caution to the wind, she asked, "Is there any reason you can think of why he would be angry with me?"

  He lifted his faded blue eyes to hers, plainly startled. "With you? No, why would he be? He's a fan, you know. He's got a huge collection of your stuff—your singing, I mean. I know he's angry at the situation, but he's got no reason to be angry at you. I can't think of a reason in the world why anybody would be angry at you." He dropped his eyes shyly down to his drink as he said this last, and Anya was grateful. She was probably a glow-in-the-dark red just then, flushed with pleasure at hearing that Salvatore liked her singing.

  "Told you so," Ces whispered in her ear, and Anya grimaced without looking at her.

  So he liked her music. Lots of people did. That had no bearing on the fact that he was in a fury every time he came near her. Crisply, she changed the subject. "Frank, I was wondering if you've spoken to him or the captain about us getting word back to our families that we're okay."

  He grimaced into his drink again, and her stomach dropped. "You know I hate saying no to you, but Jace is not gonna allow it. I haven't asked him, but he's just gonna say no. It's too dangerous, not only for you but for your families." With a miserable expression, he met her gaze. "I'm sorry."

  "It's okay, Frank. I understand. I just know my parents have got to be going crazy, wondering what's happened to me."

  "I don't doubt it. But you did warn 'em, before you left?"

  "Yes, I told them to hide, to avoid the Guild at all costs. I hope they're okay."

  Jarden appeared at her shoulder and ran a soothing hand over her head. "I'm sure they are, hon. Mom and Pop Vaedrin are a couple of tough old birds. They've got a few tricks left up their sleeves, you watch."

  "I hope you're right," Anya muttered, wishing with a desperate kind of homesickness that she'd at least been able to give them a hug and kiss goodbye. She was jarred out of her spiral of misery by the concern on the four faces in front of her and mentally shook off her gloom. Her friends had enough problems without worrying about hers as well.

  "So no messages home, no visitors, and no leaving our quarters. When do you suppose cabin fever'll set in?" she murmured wryly and was gratified to see most of the concern clearing off of her friend's faces, but Cesna's expression turned gloomy.

  "What do you mean, when? I'm already going loony." The redhead smiled winningly at the lieutenant, making his eyes widen in understandable alarm. "You'll visit us often, won't you, Frankie? You won't let us die of boredom, will you?"

  "I'll do what I can," he evaded, looking everywhere but at Cesna.

  Jar shook her head and reached across Anya to tug at a red lock of Ces' hair. "Cesna Ann Conrad, you leave that poor man alone!"

  "But he's so cute and sweet, especially when he blushes like that," Ces murmured with a wicked grin, and Frank pressed back in the chair, looking like a trapped animal.

  Anya rescued him again, nudging Ces with an admonishing elbow. "Frank, Salvatore mentioned something about you not being able to search the Hive. Why is that?"

  Clearly relieved, the lieutenant focused his attention on Anya, occasionally shooting Ces a wary look as he spoke. "The Hive Queen doesn't much like visitors, especially when we'd be asking to poke into every nook and cranny. Actually, the only one she's asked to see personally is the captain. That's quite an honor. A'course, I'd never go—from stuff I've heard and read, the Hive Queens are huge, dangerous, and short-tempered. The captain's a lot braver than I am, let me tell ya!"

 
; "Why would the Queen hurt the captain?"

  "Shrieks are a touchy bunch. They communicate with each other through body chemicals and stuff. What if the captain's feeling a bit off? She smells funny and bam! The Queen bites off her head, figuring she's throwing insults."

  "If they're that dangerous, why let them stay?"

  "You'd have to ask the cap about that. And really they're not dangerous to the rest of us. The drones totally ignore the rest of the people onboard, unless they want something or you try to get into the Hive. Shoot, I've had 'em walk over my feet like I wasn't there! We had to get them to start using the ceilings for walkways, 'cause they were causing problems. Some of the species onboard don't like to be touched, and the Shrieks would walk right over the top of you if you were in the way. Some people were getting offended."

  "I can see why. I'm surprised it didn't cause hard feelings."

  "You mean, fighting? No way! The Shrieks don't look like much but… Have you ever walked into a bee hive by accident? Just think if the bees were about your size."

  "Sounds like we should try not to offend them." His analogy brought her thoughts around to a different direction. "Frank, were you Earth born? I don't think they've gotten bees to survive anywhere else."

  "Yes, ma'am, I was born on Earth, but raised on Callisto Prime. Some of the greenhouses used bees as pollinators, but they were kept inside."

  "Callisto's practically on the other side of human space! What are you doing out here?"

  "I requested a transfer here. I've always wanted to be around alien species and see what else is out there. I heard about the Free Zone and asked to get placed here. Most people think I'm crazy for it—this place is seen as more of a place for outcasts."

  "The captain and the lieutenant commander don't seem like outcasts."

  Frank leaned forward, eyes gleaming, and Anya suddenly realized that he was a closet gossiper. Grinning at the incongruous combination of hardened military man and eager gossip, Anya sat forward with an attentive expression.