She glanced at the table by the bed, where the syringe of sleeping medication lay ready to spray a carefully metered dose through the microscopic spaces between her skin cells and into her bloodstream. The chronometer lights shone softly, mocking her with the knowledge of how little she'd slept.
With an angry sweep of her hand, she knocked both of them onto the floor. Damned if she was going to turn into one of those people who depended on drugs to keep the dreams at bay. People like her mother.
She sat up and ran her fingers through her sleep-rumpled hair, forcing it back out of her eyes. She knew from long experience that there was no point in trying to get back to sleep.
This dream was new. It was more than just the re-playing of past events, though it, too, contained an element of carnality.
This scheme of hers, she realized. The one that had been tugging at the back of her mind for months, ever since she'd first learned who her opposite number in the wedding party was to be. It must be nervousness at what she planned to do, giving her these new, disturbing dreams.
Well, the only way to deal with that nervousness was to face it. Jannia rose from the bed and headed to the communications console.
She almost hit the code for Emarr's flat before she remembered. He was staying on his ship, so as not to uproot Akaril from her familiar cabin. It took her several impatient minutes to locate the codes for the Lidaru from the station manifest.
Emarr had been up, Jannia realized with surprise as his face filled the screen a bare second after she'd entered his code. She felt an irrational surge of disappointment. Part of her had hoped to disturb his sleep, as the dream had disturbed hers.
"It is late, Pale One," Emarr said, demonstrating the universal male talent for stating the obvious.
"I've got a name, Dengas."
"So do I," Emarr replied calmly. "A call so late must have a reason, Jannia. Am I permitted to know it?"
Jannia gritted her teeth in annoyance. Emarr's over-formal speech patterns were going to drive her out an airlock if she went through with this. But she couldn't think of another man she might stand a chance of succeeding with.
"I need to see you," she said. "Tonight, if possible." Before I lose my nerve completely.
Surprise and something uncomfortably like anticipation flickered in Emarr's eyes. "Come over," he told her. "I will see you when you arrive." He terminated the connection.
Jannia took one glance at the dress that lay crumpled on the floor next to the laundry processor, and shook her head. It would be hopelessly creased by now. She opened the door to her clothes closet and looked inside.
Not promising. Black, black, and more black, everything severely tailored to conceal what few feminine curves she possessed. Her armor, as Vaialora sometimes called it. Not at all conducive to the kind of seduction she had in mind.
She could borrow something from Vaialora....
The thought trailed off before she'd even finished it. Vaia was taller than she by a good six inches, with a lush figure and the most exotic taste in fashion of anyone else Jannia knew. Kerra, maybe? No. Even if she were willing to disturb her friend in the middle of the night on her honeymoon, Kerra was several inches shorter than Jannia, and much better endowed. If anything, her clothes would fit even worse.
This was ridiculous. Since when was Jannia Wise worried about the impression her clothes would make? But that was the problem. All her clothes sent the same message.
"Don't touch me."
That was the last message she wanted to send tonight.
She finally settled for a plain, sleeveless white top that she usually wore under a jacket, and a pair of pants old and faded enough that they appeared more gray than black. She ran a brush through her hair and then, as an afterthought, put the silver clasps back in.
It was hours after midnight, station time, but the corridors were far from deserted. There were always people coming and going in a place like this, and the newcomers would still be on whatever time-system they kept to on their ships.
Jannia herself found it easiest to keep Beckhaven time wherever she was, a habit she'd learned from Vaialora, who spent more time on her home station than any other smuggler in the business. Easier, here, for Vaia to find sexual partners she could trust. Partners like Ryan O'Hare, whose bed she was sharing tonight. Or like Aden Locke, whose bed she'd been sharing when -
Jannia quelled the thought. Ancient history, that. Aden was married to Kerra now, and Vaia - thoughts of Vaia led too far down the wrong damn road.
The entry ramp on Emarr's ship was already down when she arrived, meaning that the proximity indicator would most likely be turned off. It would have been a foolish breach of security on any other station, but Jannia was glad of it. Inadvertently waking the kid wouldn't be conducive to her plans.
She made her way up the ramp and onto the ship.
Jannia found Emarr sitting at the table in the ship's tiny lounge, sipping at a cup of something steamy, whose enticing fragrance wafted across the ship's lounge to tease Jannia's nostrils. Not coffee. Something sweet and spicy and thoroughly exotic. There was a second cup sitting across from him, already poured.
"Hello, Pale One," Emarr said.
"Jannia," she corrected. "What's this problem you have with women's names?"
"A cultural remnant," Emarr answered. "From my homeworld. Women have great power. You can create life from within your own bodies. To speak the name of one who holds power is to invoke that power."
Jannia snorted in disbelief. "What, you think if you say my name you'll get me pregnant?"
Emarr shook his head, laughing softly. "No. Not exactly. On my world, the only male permitted to speak a woman's name is the one who shares her bed."
Jannia's heart missed a beat. "That's why you called Kerra 'Maiden' for so long."
Emarr nodded. "In most cases, I no longer adhere to that tradition. But there are certain women with whom it still seems appropriate. You among them." He gestured to the seat opposite him. "Sit, please. The dasu is getting cold."
Jannia sat down and glanced distrustfully into her cup. "What is it, anyway?"
"A tea made from certain berries and spices native to Doravi. I drank a great deal of it, waiting while the doctors worked to heal Akaril. The stimulant it contains is safer for my kind than that found in so many of your Human drinks."
"Caffeine isn't safe? What does it do to you?" Jannia grimaced. Now there's a romantic topic. Do I know how to set the mood, or what?
Emarr regarded her with what looked a bit too much like knowing amusement. "Probing the competition for weaknesses?"
No, just desperately grasping at conversational straws, as you almost certainly know. "Just curious."
"Let us just say it renders me harmless."
"Harmless in what way?"
"In every way. And now that you know that, I will, of course, have to kill you."
"Very funny. I suppose that means this stuff is poisoned." Jannia took a tentative sip of her drink. Nice. It reminded her of the spiced cider the guy across the hall used to give her when she was a kid. "Doesn't taste poisoned."
"If you like it, I can give you some to take back to your ship."
Jannia shook her head. "I'm not big on stimulants, even mild ones. I have enough trouble sleeping nights without them." She raised the cup to her face and just inhaled its delicious scent. "It would be a crime to waste this."
"I agree. It is regrettably habit-forming. I felt compelled to stock up on dasu before we left Doravi. That, pizza, and fish toes."
The corner of Jannia's mouth twitched. "You mean fish fingers."
"Either way - something fish are not supposed to have." He took another sip of his dasu. "My stasis chamber is full of the most appalling foods. I have tried to prepare Akaril healthy, nourishing meals, but she will not touch them. She will try nothing she has not already tasted."
"There's comfort in the familiar," Jannia said. "It sounds like she's been through a lot."
"I cannot sleep in my flat," Emarr continued, "because there is no place for Akaril there. I went to the console earlier to ask Beck to assign me a larger apartment, when it occurred to me that all the larger apartments are in the main part of the station. I cannot expose Akaril to such crowded conditions."
"You don't seem to mind saying her name," Jannia pointed out.
"Akaril is a child, not a woman, and I am her father," Emarr said. He raised his cup to his lips, muttering something before taking a sip. It sounded like, "Gods help me."
Jannia frowned. This wasn't going the way she'd pictured it at all. She was beginning to feel vaguely foolish. She'd come here to seduce the man; instead here she was listening to him talk about his kid. God, Dengas, will you please change the subject?
"So why did you want to speak to me?" Emarr asked, so close on the heels of her last thought that he must have sensed it.
Jannia set her cup down. She should make something up and just get out of here. The problem was, she couldn't think of a ruse that wouldn't make her look more foolish than she already felt.
She took a deep breath. "It's about what happened on Advarra."
Emarr nodded slowly. "I thought it might be."
"You saved my life."
"Perhaps," Emarr said. "You might have survived the fall."
"Gandes didn't."
Emarr set his cup down and pushed it away. "I require no thanks for what I did that day."
"That's good," Jannia said, "because I'm not here to thank you." She wrapped her fingers around her cup, drawing strength from its warmth. "You did more than save my life that day. You touched me. You held me in your arms and I let you."
"For a moment," Emarr said.
"Yes. For a moment."
"I wondered if you even remembered," Emarr said. "You were in shock. You were staring at Gandes' body like it was the only thing that existed in the universe. I wondered, at the time, if you even knew I was there."
"I knew," Jannia said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "I felt you."
"I did not feel you," Emarr told her. "Physically, yes, but the other... it was as though you were not there. As though you had gone with him. It was - very frightening. When you came back to yourself and pushed me away, I thanked the gods."
"I expected the nightmares to go away once he was dead," Jannia said. "The flashbacks. The chills whenever anyone got too close or tried to touch me. But they didn't. In some ways, they got worse. And recently, I've started having other dreams, too."
Emarr nodded. "Not unexpected. Much has changed. Gandes' death. Your newfound independence from Vaialora. I also had disturbing dreams, in the months after Ryan and his sister freed me from my old mistress. When the real danger is past, it becomes safe to let yourself feel the fear."
"I've been feeling the fear for a year now," Jannia retorted. "I want it to go away now."
"And you wish me to help you," Emarr surmised. "Because I am an empath. Because I have feelings for you."
Jannia nodded, relieved that Emarr had put into words what she could not seem to find a way to say. "I want to take back what Gandes stole from me. I want to feel what other people feel. I want -" She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and said the words before they could dam up in her throat. "I want you to make love to me."
She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands. They were trembling.
Emarr reached out and took her hands in his. His fingers were large and strong, trapping hers. She wanted to pull away, but she didn't. She let him hold her hands.
He looked into her eyes, and she could see it there. The love she had never asked for and never understood. The love that could heal her, if she could only find the strength to let it.
"I am sorry," he said. "I cannot."
Jannia jerked her hands from Emarr's grip. "What do you mean, you can't?" she demanded. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking. I'd have thought you'd grab the opportunity with both hands."
"A part of me is tempted to," Emarr admitted. "I will not pretend otherwise. I have never tried to hide how I feel about you, but I will not act on those feelings. Not now. Not like this. It is far too soon, and you do not understand what you ask of me."
The hell I don't. What little comfort Jannia had achieved in Emarr's presence had drained away at his infuriatingly calm denial. She needed to move away, to put distance between them. She got to her feet and walked over to the viewport. It showed an image beamed in from one of the outside cameras, of the shimmering, blue-and white planet below.
"It wasn't easy for me to come here, you know. To ask you this."
"No, I do not imagine that it was." Emarr rose and moved to stand behind her, close enough to touch her. So close she could feel the heat of his body against her back. She wished she'd worn a jacket after all.
"I care for you deeply," Emarr said. "I would have you know that, at least."
"You don't even know me."
"You are not an easy woman to know," Emarr agreed. "But I have wanted to try."
"I've given you the chance. You refused it."
Emarr edged even closer, and for a moment, Jannia thought he was going to put his hands on her. "You have offered no such opportunity," he countered. "You asked me to make love to you, but you did not even mean that. Sex. A joining of bodies. That is all you are looking for, and you think it will heal the damage to your soul. It will not."
Jannia turned to face him. He was standing so close now that the slightest movement by either of them would bring their bodies into contact. His sheer physical presence seemed to overwhelm her, filling the room. She wanted to back away, to escape, to run.
"I am not even touching you," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "Not even touching you, and already you are afraid. I can feel it, like a cold wall all around you. And yet you think you are ready to be intimate with me?" He raised one hand, slowly, brushing the very tips of his fingers against her cheek.
Panic stabbed into Jannia, cold, like jagged shard of ice. She jerked away, but her back hit the wall, trapping her. Her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest, as if it would escape even if the rest of her could not.
"I cannot make love to you," Emarr reiterated. He stepped aside and back, giving her room to bolt.
Jannia took a deep breath to steady herself, and held her ground, trying to salvage what little dignity remained to her. He was right, damn him, and she hated him for it.
"I want to," Emarr said quietly. "I have wanted to for so long the need has become part of me, as real as the need for food, or warmth, or breath. But I will not do more damage to you than has already been done."
"Then I'm sorry to have bothered you." Jannia started for the door.
"Wait," Emarr said
Jannia paused, her hand already resting on the door controls. "I've already humiliated myself completely," she said. "What else is there to say?"
"I do want to help you," Emarr said. "I do want to - know you. If you are willing to go slowly, to wait until you are truly ready -"
"Goodbye, Dengas," Jannia said firmly. "You had your chance." She keyed the door open and was gone.
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