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Class Zero Page 4


  “Recessive gene. Don’t worry. I am a class zero. I won’t pass it on.” She smiled and then realized what she had said. “Not that I am... not that you should be worried... I am not going to... oh balls.”

  Ariadne laughed out loud. “Don’t worry about it. I was mail ordered as both a bride and a scribe. I understand the strangeness of things.”

  Halu smiled. “Empress, when can we move her?”

  Ariadne waved her hand. “Only Yomin has access to the island, so he will have to take her there. I have a healer coming in that might be able to speed things along. Padana, do you have a strong aversion to pain?”

  Padana winced. “No, Your Imperial Highness. I can take most types of pain-related healing.”

  “Excellent. That will make this easier.”

  The empress got to her feet and entered the outer chamber, picking up a com and speaking quietly. “They are on their way in. I didn’t want to subject you to it if you can’t manage it.”

  Padana nodded, and she practiced breathing. She had experienced fire healing before, so this wasn’t an unknown quantity.

  The woman in a dark cloak came in with a featureless mask. Ariadne stood on one side, and Halu was near Padana’s head, and a moment after the healer arrived, the healing commenced.

  She applauded herself for not screaming. The healer’s golden hands had been as gentle as they were able to be while pain healing had been used.

  Padana was helped to the sonic shower, and a team of housekeepers was still working on the bed when they returned.

  Ariadne and her portable desk were out on the balcony, overlooking the gardens. Padana wobbled out with Halu supporting her, and they settled on padded seats while the housekeepers tidied up inside.

  Ariadne smiled. “You are doing well?”

  “My skin is a little thicker now and less tender. I wish I had been able to thank her.”

  “Naluan is an excellent healer. She’s of a mixed species, and her golden colour sets her apart, and the talent puts her on a higher social standing than her parents.” Ariadne made a face and waved her tattooed hands. “It is strange, alien, but I am sleeping with the emperor, so I can’t throw stones.”

  She smiled and then looked up. “Ah, here’s your ride.”

  Padana looked toward Yomin, and his slow descent made him look every inch the hero. His suit was graphite and black, his head was exposed, and the crest of hair was waving in the breeze.

  He landed, and his expression was grim as he stalked over to her. He didn’t speak, bent over, picked her up, and took off with her in his arms and wearing only the thinnest of silk gowns.

  Neither of them said anything as he flew them to a hovering skimmer and wrapped her in a soft blanket before directing the short-range craft away from the city.

  She curled up in a ball, still shaking from the healing. After half an hour, she asked, “Is Halu coming?”

  “She might arrive in a few days, but she is taking my place with the guardians for now. She doesn’t seem to have the awareness to see when you are damaging yourself.”

  She shivered. “I didn’t damage myself. I was waiting for the right moment for recovery time. This has happened before.”

  He set the controls and walked over to crouch next to her. “It has happened before, and your family still sent you out with that suit?”

  She shrugged. “I have done a few days in and a few days off before. My mother’s suit was wired into her nervous and digestive systems, so it was different, but if we are representing our link to Negotiator Tyrell, we wear a suit.”

  “I wear a suit; it doesn’t tear my skin apart.” He reached out and offered his hand.

  She put her hand in his, and he rubbed his thumb over the back of her knuckles.

  “So, if you want to continue your work as a negotiator here on Hredu, you can wear a suit of our design that won’t hurt you, or you can wear the clothing of the household contract workers.”

  She made a face. “Understandable. My family can’t start a war because I am a workaholic.”

  He kissed her hand and then kissed her lips. “So, I am your caretaker for the next few days. I am fully checked out on medical treatments, and I was informed that you were healed just before I arrived.”

  “Yes, the lovely gold woman, Naluan.” She whispered it against his mouth.

  “She’s very good. Agonizing but very good.” He trailed kisses over her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and lips.

  “So, how long do I have to recover?”

  He leaned back. “I am thinking that my self-control will last three, but you have six days allocated before the court requires your return.”

  There was a chime at the controls, and he left her with that promise ringing in her ears. She had to wait three days? Talk about agony.

  Chapter Six

  The shoreline home was a small palace. Yomin carried her inside, and to her surprise, a wardrobe was already set with light dresses, shoes were lined up, and the bed was turned down.

  “Um, it looks like I was expected.”

  He snorted. “Since we learned the reason for your collapse.”

  She was wary as he set her down, and she went to look for something to put on that would provide a few more layers between them.

  “And that reason was the infection due to skin degradation?” Her voice went up at the end of the question.

  He got wary. “Yes, what else could it be?”

  “Let me get changed, and I will tell you all the details. Even my mother doesn’t know.” She looked at a dark gown, slid her hand into the neckline, and looked at the tone of her skin through the sheer fabric. She glanced at him and started to move through the gowns until there was one that was opaque enough to hide her darker portions at neck and groin.

  She took the gown with her to the lav and quickly changed. Padana had been guarded before, and the amount of privacy varied wildly.

  “You have two minutes.”

  She gathered her blanket and bedgown over one arm and came out. “I don’t need them. Is there a place you can have a drink? You will probably need a drink.”

  They walked into the living area, and he headed for the bar. He poured himself a glass, and to her surprise, he brought it over to her. “Here. If you are mentioning it, you are thinking about it.”

  She snorted. “It doesn’t always work that way.” In a fine tradition of bad decisions, she drank half the glass, shuddered, and then, she set it down on a table in front of the couch.

  “Now, what do you want to explain?”

  She sat on the couch, and he sat beside her. “This is easier at night.”

  “Why, because the light obscures things?”

  “No, because you can see the arcs.” She held her hands across from each other, and the crackle of static electricity charged from palm to palm.

  He paused. “You are a talent?”

  “Yup. Just like my grandmother and great-great-grandmother. Each of us has had it to a certain extent, but we all test as class zero, so this is in a different part of the genome than the physical appearance.”

  “So, what has been happening?”

  “I have been using my talent to subdue the negotiation clients by stunning them. The energy rips along my skin, the suit is shielded against electronic transfer over certain dosages, and the only outlet is the interior of my gloves where I have picked holes in the liner.”

  He blinked. “You have been stunning them?”

  She grimaced. “Stop looking like you are going to laugh. I roll static balls down the table, and when their emotional states get out of control... Zap.”

  His eyes widened. “But you are not proof against the electricity?”

  “Not with exposure for hours on end. That much exposure breaks down the skin. Like standing next to a fire.”

  “Have you ever had training?”

  She stared at him. “An Imperial Princess of the Haldis Imperium showing signs of
an out-of-control talent? No. My gran taught me to hold it in and use small objects to discharge the buildup throughout the day. I have been getting along just fine...”

  “Unless you wear the negotiator armour. Ah. Well, that makes you interesting and terrifying.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t injure people. Watch.”

  She held her hand over his, and the crackle of power moved over his skin as she moved her hand.

  “See? No damage.”

  He swallowed. “Padana, please, stop that.”

  She snapped her hand closed and pulled her fist back to her lap. “Sorry.” She hiccupped and sat back, suddenly morose.

  “Padana?”

  She looked at him, upset and sniffly. “Yes?”

  “Are you drunk?” He looked amused.

  She nodded. “Not allowed to drink. Always ends up with me shoving someone into a pool.”

  He snorted. “Right. Food for you.”

  She perked up. “Oh, food!”

  He went into the kitchen, and she followed. “Don’t worry, Yomin, it will wear off soon. Ten minutes is the longest that I have been drunk.”

  He got some food packs out of the chiller and put them into the dispenser. “I think that today is not the day to increase your tolerance. Who is the person you shoved in the pool?”

  She shrugged and leaned on the counter while she watched. “The Nyal envoy. He was getting handsy.”

  “He put his hand on the imperial princess?”

  “Yup. Grabbed my ass, so he ended up in the pool.” She smiled. “No one saw a thing. Well, until the security vids were gone over.”

  “So, how did he react when he rose from the water?”

  “I don’t know. I was in the other room, at the buffet.”

  The unit chirped, and he went to get the meals. “So, how did you push him?”

  She waved her hand, and crackles and sparks appeared between her fingers. “Nobody knows.”

  He chuckled. “Well, you are sobering up quickly. I have to say that our scans of your genetic samples detected latent talent, but since none of the Haldis documents mentioned it, we thought that they had simply missed it.”

  “It was an unspoken genetic trait.” She shrugged. “It works well to deter unwanted courtship.”

  He smiled and carried their plates over to the dining room. “Well, I hope that my courtship is on the wanted list.”

  She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond to that, so she sat at the chair he held out for her.

  He chuckled. “No comment?”

  “I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.”

  “Ah, used to court life. I had forgotten.”

  She chuckled and waited for him to start eating. “So, do you wear the uniform all the time?”

  He paused and glanced down. “Huh. Normally, I get out of it, but I am guessing on some level I wanted to keep distance between us.”

  “Why?” She covered her mouth with her hand.

  He gave her a long look. “Because every time I am with you, I want you against me no matter what your situation. The suit blocks a lot of sensory input.”

  She fought her blush and nodded, eating neatly but quickly.

  “So, you eat with the emperor often?”

  “My father? Yes. If he and my mother have been flirting, dinner is really quick. They flirt a lot.”

  He chuckled. “My father simply orders everyone out of the room. You can tell if they have been alone for a while if he exits the room with ink on his neck or sleeves.”

  She laughed and sighed. “That is funny, and now, I know why he wears so much black.”

  He chuckled. “Even our skin holds onto the ink.”

  She set her cutlery down, and then, she stood up to put the dishes in the cleaner.

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap. “You don’t do a lot of calligraphy, do you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good.” He kissed her and threaded a hand through the hair at the back of her skull. He held her as he leisurely pressed the hard-smooth texture of his lips against hers.

  She blinked when he lifted his head. “So, I am definitely not the first off-worlder you have been with.”

  He smiled slightly. “No, but you will be my last.”

  “That is both very sweet and very optimistic.”

  He nodded as if he believed her, and he slid his hand up under her skirt and pressed against the slick invitation that she was seeping. He removed his fingers from against her and pulled them out, looking in surprise. He licked his fingers with his eyes narrowed. “I believe I have reason for my optimism.”

  His lapping tongue was hypnotic.

  She swallowed slowly. “Uh. I don’t have a comeback for that. So, what about your sisters? Where are they?”

  He chuckled. “My sister Urena has control over two planets, and Naedira has another one. They have their own territories in the empire.”

  “They are happy with it?”

  “They grew up knowing how things are, just as you did.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, I know how things are, but I also knew that I was going to be auctioned off to another royal house. My mother said it would be a careful and profitable negotiation, but I still think she put me up on sale.”

  “It was her offer that enabled me to finally see you. You have been remarkably well hidden for someone who spends as much time negotiating as you do.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “The mysteries of the armour.”

  “Indeed.” He rested his hand on her inner thigh. Her skirt was still pushed up, and she hadn’t noticed it.

  “So, why are you shopping for a bride.”

  “I am not shopping for a bride; I was looking for you. Now that I have found you, I know that the portrait was correct.”

  She paled. “What is on your portrait?”

  He caressed her thigh. “You are on the portrait. I am on there. We are very obviously more than casual acquaintances, and you have a birthmark right here.” He slid his hand to her outer thigh and around to the curve of her buttock.

  She blushed. “It isn’t a birthmark. It is a tattoo. It is a micro tattoo of the Sol system that our mothers came from. My siblings all have the same one. My mom has a blazing star system across her abdomen.”

  He nodded. “My mother has her tattoos on the first knuckle of every finger. All of the double bands under that represent a single year living with my father. Her bands reach to her forearms now.”

  “Better than a wedding ring.” She chuckled. “She can’t lose it.” She tried to not think about his warm hand sliding over her butt. She swallowed.

  His fingers slowly trailed down her thigh. “You know, you looked warm and soft in the portrait, but you feel even better than I imagined, and I have been imagining you for years.”

  She looked at him. “Years?”

  “Yes, I got the portrait four years ago.” Yomin flexed his fingers on her thigh. “I have not had an interest in another woman since.”

  She squeaked. “Oh. Right. How unfortunate for you.”

  He sighed. “The price I was willing to pay to keep my focus on finding you.”

  She looked up at him, and he was grinning. There didn’t seem to be a lot of sacrifice in his expression. “Why are you smiling like that?”

  “Because I have a few days off with a reputable replacement, and it means I can actually focus on you. Of course, your skin is still healing, so I have to be careful.”

  As he spoke, she began to elevate without him touching her. She blinked. “What is going on?”

  “I am trying to learn you without putting pressure on your skin, so this seemed the most effective way to do it.”

  “You are telekinetic?”

  “And I have a skill with maturing flowers and trees.” As he spoke, her gown fluttered to slide upward and land on the chair.

  Padana wanted to cover her face, but her
hands were held out and down at her sides. She was slowly elevated to a nearly standing position. “This is very peculiar.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No, but if I hadn’t been handled by dressers all my life, I might have been trying to cover everything that you are currently staring at.” Her blush was hot, but she appreciated the genuine fascination in his gaze.

  “Then, I am thankful for the stringencies of your father’s court.” He stood, and his talent slowly rotated her in place. “Ah, there is the tattoo.”

  He knelt, and he touched the small mark, pressing a kiss to it before he stroked his tongue across it. She shivered and was fine as he looked her over until he knelt and her axis shifted to the horizontal. He settled himself between her thighs and pressed his mouth to her sex. He began to lap at her and suck at her clit, and after a gasp, she started to moan.

  She muttered, “I thought you said no contact.”

  He chuckled and lifted his head. “I said no hands today.”

  She was stuck as the wet suction built and his tongue slid inside her. She felt something pressing into her, but his hands were accounted for. “You telekinetic jackass!”

  He laughed, and the invisible digits continued to her ass. She was hot, wet, invaded, and her body was enjoying the hell out of it. She let out small cries, and her body twisted against his spectral grip as she convulsed in slowly decreasing spasms.

  She had a fine sheen of sweat on her skin as he slowly lowered her into his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she turned her face toward his chest. “You don’t play fair.”

  “I play to win. And with you, I don’t play at all. I will use a thousand days and a thousand ways to seduce you enough to draw a bond between us if I must.”

  She swallowed. “That sounds tiring.”

  He laughed and hugged her against him, pressing another kiss to her head, and then, he whispered in her ear. “That’s one.”

  To quote her mother, Oh, fuck.

  Chapter Seven