It was time, Dax thought lazily. The water had gone from tepid to cool, and he'd better get out before the soothing effects of the originally steaming water were lost. Besides, just lying here gave him too d.a.m.ned much time to think. His mind had been ricocheting off painful subjects for nearly an hour now; from that glowing holograph of his home as it had been to the images he'd seen since of a blackened ruin, and from the thought of Dare enslaved and collared to an image of him free and fighting. And the image of the one collar gave rise to the other; Califa was far too muchand too vividlyon his restless mind. He knew, because every time he thought of her, his body would respond with the suddenness that he had almost come to expect.

As it was responding now, he thought ruefully, despite the coolness of the water. He stood up then, water streaming over him as he reached for a drying cloth. He rubbed down his chest and arms and belly, then stepped out of the plunge to dry his legs and hips. More than once he inadvertently brushed the flesh that had roused to thoughts of a blue-eyed Arellian, and he smothered a groan each time.

He'd forgotten to bring fresh clothes with him to the soaking room, and he couldn't bring himself to don the filthy ones he'd discarded, so he wrapped the cloth around his waist and started back to his room.

His feet were still tender, but some healing spray would ease that, and he'd be back to normal in no time, he thought. If, he thought wryly as he glanced down his body to the betraying protrusion beneath the cloth, he could ever getthat under control again.

He hadn't expected her to still be there. Yet she was, adding a finishing touch to his right boot, which was barely recognizable as the scuffed, muddy thing he'd left behind. The other was the same, showing the soft gleam of thorough care. That she had done it startled him nearly as much as the sight of her kneeling at his feet had. He had sensed then that the act had nothing to do with the submissiveness of the slave; if anything, it had been the once proud Coalition officer who had been tending him with such solicitude.

The moment he came in, she leapt to her feet, the single boot clutched in her hands. He took one look at her, and slid the door tightly closed behind him. She stared at him, and he was as aware of her gaze sliding over his near naked body as he'd ever been of anything in his life. He'd never had a woman look at him with such pure need; desire, yes, even hunger, but never before pure need, untouched by any appraisal of his reputation as well as his body. It inflamed him until he knew she couldn't mistake his state of arousal, but she said nothing as her gaze flew back to his face.

"I meant to have this done," she said haltingly.

"You didn't have to do it at all."

He crossed the room toward her. She backed up a step, the backs of her knees coming up against the edge of his bunk. He advanced on her, and the boot slipped from her hands and fell to the floor with a soft thud. His hands came up to cup her face in the same instant as his distended flesh nudged her belly.

He heard a strangled gasp break from her in the instant before his mouth came down on hers. He didn't know how much of it came from the fact that he had nearly died last night, or how much from the fact that it had been Califa who had clearly been organizing a rescue effort. He only knew that no woman had ever had the power to do this to him, and that in these moments, when he was rigid with hot, pulsing need, whatever she'd done, whatever she'd been, mattered less than nothing to him.

As she opened for him, responding fiercely to his kiss, he wondered if she, too, was reacting to the fact that he very nearly hadn't survived his self-set mission. And then he realized it made no difference; all he cared about was that she was once more coming apart in his arms. He didn't even care that she had clawed away the cloth at his hips, that he was naked while she was still clothed; his hands were under the soft, loose shirt, cupping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and for now that was enough. Especially when she arched her back to thrust those generous curves more fully against his palms, and he felt the instant tightening of her nipples beneath his fingers.

It was as if he'd never suffered through the last time. As if he'd forgotten the excruciating tightness of a body left begging at the peak of arousal. And when she helped him strip away her clothes, revealing the slender body and impossibly smooth, pale skin, he knew it wouldn't have mattered if his body had remembered every painful second.

The moment her arms came up to wrap around his neck, he slid his hands down her naked back to the taut curve of her b.u.t.tocks. Unable to wait another instant, he lifted her, urged her to wrap her legs around him. Without a moment's hesitation she did, and he let out a groan of pained relief as he lowered her onto him. That his entry was easy, her body already slick and prepared for him, told him more of the genuineness of her need than any words could have.

He took them both down to the bunk, letting the controlled fall drive him to the hilt inside her. She gasped his name, her hips bucking in his hands as she took him deep.

"Dax," she cried out. "Please, now! IOh!"

The last came as he began to move, swiftly. He could sense that she was on the verge of shattering, her body already close to erupting. He thrust hard and fast, and every time he wondered if he was being too rough, she arched her hips against him, demanding no less. It happened so quickly for her, and her body convulsed so fiercely, squeezing him so tightly, that for a moment he couldn't believe he wasn't going to erupt right after her. The exquisite sensations continued until they reached the level of pain, until sweat was pouring off of him, until he swore low and harsh and guttural, and yanked himself free of her coaxing body.

She moaned, still in the throes of a release he knew had been nearly violent. He collapsed beside her, his breath still coming in rapid pants, his body shuddering its protest as his rigidly erect shaft continued to ache with unsated compulsion.

Nothing had changed. Not even this woman, who had aroused him to heights he'd never thought possible, could break the barrier. And he knew with a grim certainty that if she couldn't, no one could. Ever.

Maybe it was too bad he'd made it last night.

Chapter 19.

"You were right, you know."

Califa barely heard him; she was still staring in shock at the controller Dax had just. handed her. He'd rolled out of the bunk, walked over to the bag that held what he'd brought from theEvening Star, and taken out the small power unit. Without a word he'd come back and held it out to her.

It was an image she knew she would remember forever; Dax, still naked, his strong, lean body still clearly aroused, standing there handing her back her autonomy. It drove all her questions about why he'd withdrawn from her before attaining his own satisfaction from her mind.

"Right?" she finally managed to ask.

"When you accused me of being suicidal." He sounded so odd, Califa thought, his words coming in short bursts. "I'd never thought about it. Not until last night. I realized I was worried about escaping. I'd never done that before."

"Dax"

"And just now, I was thinking it might have been better if I hadn't."

"Eos, Dax," she whispered. Somehow hearing him voice what she herself had accused him of was so much worse.

"Ironic, isn't it?" His voice was sharp, caustic. "All this time, I've been trying to get myself killed, and instead all I've managed to do is get rich. And notorious."

"Dax, please"

He cut her off. "So you'd better keep that. Just in case I succeed, one of these days."

Her hand shook. He turned his back on her. He walked back to the bag, pulled out some clothing, and yanked it on. She watched him, wondering what had made him do this, now.

"Does this mean... you trust me?"

He froze, his back still to her. "It means," he said, his voice suddenly harsh, "that you can do as you wish. It means thatyou shouldn't have trustedme enough to give me that thing. Or to tell me how it works. You shouldn't have trusted me at all."

And without ever looking at her again, he walked out of the room.

Califa's fingers curled around the controller. She'd never thought to hold it again, to have in her hands the freedom once taken from her. And yet at what price? Why had he done this now, while he avoided answering the question of whether he trusted her? What did he expect her to do?

It means that you can do as you wish.

Before, she had taken that simple freedom for granted. Since, she had craved it beyond all other rights. Now, all she could do was wonder why he had given that right back to her at the moment when he as much as admitted he harbored a wish for death. She couldn't help thinking it was because he expected they would soon be separated, one way or another, either by her leaving theEvening Star, or by his death.

And as she sat there in his bed, clutching the power unit that gave her life back to her, she had to admit to herself that she found either prospect grim.

They left two nights later.

Dax had put it to a vote, as apparently he always did. All the crew had had their time in the colony, and seemed to have had enough of revelry; they were bored enough now to welcome leaving, especially after they had spent nearly a year here not very long ago, when Dax had built the fighter. Still, Califa wondered how much of the willing vote stemmed from Dax's obvious eagerness to get back flying again; this crew would do a great deal to keep him happy.

His eagerness to be off made her uneasy, wondering if it was somehow connected to heror to the fact that Larcos's image screen insured they were in little danger here. Although Dax had ignored her, as he had been since he'd returned the controller, Roxton had sensed her unease.

"You don't agree?" he asked her before the vote was taken.

She was startled that he'd even asked, but more startled that the others.e.xcept Daxseemed to be waiting for her answer. Something had changed; it was as if her willingness to risk herself to rescue Dax had made them accept her as one of them. Of course, most of them didn't know that it had been a Coalition officer giving those instinctive orders.

But Roxton knew, and it was he who had asked. So in the end she had answered honestly.

"We are apparently safe here. I don't believe the Coalition will have given up the search so soon. And as a wise old warrior once said"here her gaze roamed to Dax; that ancient fighter, Geron, had been Triotian"if you do not move, you do not leave a trail."

It was then that Dax had spoken, although he still did not look at her.

"She speaks truly. There is a danger. I will not force you all to face it, not when I have brought it down on you."

Califa had looked at him for a long moment, seeing the tension in his body, the strain that lined his face, the shadows that darkened his eyes.

"But you will leave," she said softly, "no matter what is decided here."

It wasn't a question, but he answered as if it were. And he did it while looking at her for the first time, with an expression that left her little doubt that one of his reasons was her.

"I will leave."

He looked away from her then, glancing at Roxton before he walked to a window and stood looking out, separating himself from the others. He had given his vote; now it was up to the crew. And to a man plus Rinathey voted with Dax.

She could have stayed. Roxton later told her that theEvening Star flew with no one who didn't wish to be there, and that if she wanted to stay here, at the storehouse, she was welcome.

"Does Dax know you're offering his hospitality so freely?" she'd asked.

Roxton had tugged at his beard thoughtfully before answering. "It was his idea."

But he'd sent Roxton to tell her. He wanted her to stay behind, but he hadn't wanted to face her to tell her. While it was true she could survive for a long time in relative comfort here, the idea didn't appeal to her at all. If she were ever to truly regain her freedom, she needed to find a way to be rid of the collar, and she would make no progress toward that while sitting safely beneath a mirage. And besides, Rina had come to her and asked her rather sweetly to please come with them.

"I'd miss you," the girl admitted. "I know I was angry with you. But you were right, I've changed from the silly child I was before my parents died, so I have to believe others can change, too."

And so she had decided. And she nearly convinced herself that those were the only reasons she had told Roxton she would be aboard theEvening Star unless Dax directly ordered that she not be.

This time, she was prepared for the flash as they broke through the refraction layer. And as she looked back, she had the answer to her earlier question; the image of the rocky plain was dark and shadowy as they lifted off into the night. Larcos, she thought, was a genius. And the Coalition had shipped him off to work in a crystal mine. If she'd needed any further proof of the blind senselessness of the monster she'd once been a part of, she had it now.

But she didn't need any more proof. All she needed was a way to expiate the crime of having been part of it. And she wasn't certain such a way existed. She fingered the collar, thinking wearily that perhaps she should just try to hunt down Dare, and hand him her controller. If she let him use her as she had let him be used, perhaps that would be enough.

But when she tried to think of it, when she tried to form the image in her mind of the magnificent golden man she remembered, all she could see was Dax. And suddenly she, who had sampled the carnal variety the Coalition deemed customary, although not anywhere near to the extent most had supposed, could not conceive of such intimacy with anyone else. She was well and truly snared, she thought, and by a man who had no wish to hold her. Indeed, he seemed most eager to be rid of her. As Alpha 2 dropped farther and farther behind, she mulled over the irony of being so controlled by the man who had never used, had never even wanted to use, the machine designed to do just that.

"We're clear," Rina said cheerfully.

Califa turned, surprised to see the girl in the lounge. "I thought you'd still be on the bridge."

Rina looked puzzled, and Califa guessed she had been sitting here, lost in profitless wondering, for longer than she'd thought.

"I have been," Rina said. "Since I already laid in the course before we took off, Dax really only needs me to get through the screen, when all the instruments go haywire for a few minutes. But I stayed anyway, until we got free enough of the planet's gravity to power down a little."

"Course? Where are we going?"

"To the Clarion shipping lanes. Before we took all those months of downtime to work on theEvening Star, and for Dax and Larcos to build the fighter, we knocked off some of our best prizes there."

And the Coalition had doubled the patrols because of it, Califa thought, remembering the bulletins that had come down, describing Dax as the most bloodthirsty, merciless, and evil skypirate ever to draw breath.

"We've got plenty of supplies," Rina went on, "but the funds are getting a little low. Dax wants to snag some goods we can turn around quickly, for coin. He"

The girl broke off suddenly, her eyes narrowing as she stared out the viewport.

"That's odd," she murmured. "We've changed course."

No sooner had she spoken than the lights flashed and the sound of the battle alert blared through the empty lounge.

"I was afraid that was too easy," Rina yelped, whirling toward the door.

Califa watched her race away, her pulse instinctively speeding up to the rapid clamor of the alarm. She hated this, being a helpless pa.s.senger, forced to only watch, when she was used to being at the forefront of the action.

And then it struck her. She no longer had to sit back and watch. The controller was in the pocket of her new flight suit, and she could go wherever she wished. She nearly shook at the realization, the thrill of it tempered only by the thought that perhaps this, too, was one of Dax's reasons for giving it to her. Perhaps he had hoped she would take advantage of her freedom to simply walk away. And somehow, the knowledge that that meant he trusted her not to give them away did little to ease the ache the thought caused.

This, she lectured herself, was no time for foolish emotions. She'd never even seen the bridge of the Evening Star; it was past time. She took off after Rina.

It was a destroyer.

She could see it, dead astern, through the grid of viewports across the back of the bridge. The huge ship was closing, but slowly.

"Surrender," she heard Roxton mutter. "Not d.a.m.ned likely."

The first mate was standing behind Larcos, who was sitting before the cl.u.s.ter of scanners to one side of what was obviously the command chair. Obvious not only by its size, placement, and the array of controls within easy reach, but by the fact that Dax sat there, long legs stretched out before him in a casual att.i.tude that belied the tension she could see in his face.

And the guilt.

He knew, as she and no doubt everyone on board knew, that were it not for his little excursion, they could have made it out of Alpha 2 s.p.a.ce virtually unnoticed; there was nothing of value for the Coalition to guard on the vast expanse of the planet outside the colony itself, and they cared little who came and went. But Dax had made them care. They knew their most wanted skypirate had been there, and as Califa had suspected, they hadn't given up easily.

But she also knew that if he let it, guilt over getting them into this could cripple him, make him unable to make the decisions necessary if they were to survive this. Which was doubtful enough, she thought, looking once more at the motionless ship that hung off to starboard. She gathered, from Roxton's comment, that the traditional demand for surrender had already come.

"Shall I fire, sir?" Hurcon's voice crackled over the comlink; the Omegan must be manning one of the weapons stations.

Dax didn't answer. He didn't even move. Roxton glanced over his shoulder at him, then answered Hurcon himself.

"Not yet. Wait for the order."

The answer came back, sounding disgruntled. "Copy."

Roxton started to turn back to the scanners, then stopped when he saw Califa. His gaze flicked to the enormous ship menacing them, then back to her.

"Another message coming in," Larcos said, reaching to activate the ship-to-ship audio. Roxton turned to listen.

"We repeat," came the words, booming in typical Coalition amplified volume, as if sheer loudness could frighten them into acquiescence, "this is the Coalition Destroyerh.e.l.lring. We order you to surrender immediately or you will be obliterated."

Califa drew back, surprised. A second demand was rare. She glanced at Dax, but he still didn't react. Roxton gave him a worried look, then shifted his gaze once more to Califa. He gestured to her to join him. She came forward, sensing Dax's sudden stiffening as she pa.s.sed him; apparently he hadn't even realized she was there, a sign of how deeply distracted he was. Rina sat at the helm position, glancing at Dax periodically, her face displaying her worry. Califa gave her a rea.s.suring smile as she pa.s.sed, although she couldn't see anything to feel rea.s.sured about.

She looked at the scanners Roxton indicated, and her brows furrowed. None of the destroyer's weapons systems were active except the minimally destructive disrupters. She hadn't felt a hit at all, even a mild disrupter blast. She lifted her gaze to the first mate's face.

"Have they fired at all?"

He shook his head, and her puzzlement increased.