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Chapter Text

The room filled with a leaden silence; one so oppressive it would have drawn words from the most unmovable of souls. It defied the existence of everything outside this moment. Even the ticking of the chronometer had been muffled by the expectation that hung in the air. The world held its breath, waiting for what came next.

It would have to wait some time. Ada’s mind was a distorted blur through which only a single sentence could be made out, pounding in unrelenting resolve against her temples.

I still love you.

She was staring at the two gloved hands that had encased her pale one. She could feel the warmth of flesh through dark brown leather, and even sense the pulse of blood, the echo of Henrix’s racing heart as he waited for a response from her. A sign. Anything that might indicate her feelings and her answer to his declaration.

But she gave none. She did not even dare to look up. She was too terrified of what she would see in his eyes. In fact, she couldn’t move at all. Not even to pull her hand from his earnest and tender grasp. She knew that she should. This was all so very, very wrong. The last time he had held her hand this way she had snatched it back, wary of how he might slip between the barely healed cracks in her heart, only to shatter it again.

But now, she was frozen. In shock. In confusion. And yes, in terror too.

‘Ada?’

When she still failed to respond, he went on, applying the faintest of pressure to her limp, pallid fingers.

‘I realise that my timing is appalling, to say the least. But there may be no other occasion for these words to be spoken. Whatever happens during the upcoming siege, or after, I have no wish to be burdened with regret for opportunities lost. Or perhaps,’ he said after a moment of hesitation, ‘it would be better to say that I have no wish to be burdened with more regrets… regarding the two of us.’

His voice was as warm as his touch, both also carrying the faintest of tremors. At length he took one hand away, raising it to graze his fingertips along her cheek. Perhaps he mistook her silence for assent? Regardless, she was almost relieved at the overly familiar gesture, one that she remembered so well from their days together. After the first flush of longing, so deep and terrible it made her eyes flutter closed, the fear that speared through her made her snatch her hands back as if hit by an electric charge.

‘Ada?’

‘Void… take you.’

Forcing those words out was like expelling a blockage in a pipe, and suddenly all her feelings came spewing out. And not just feelings. Actions. Ada flung herself at him, her hands curled into fists, and she struck him on one shoulder, and then again on his chest. Then again. And again. Blow after blow, she beat a hideous and frantic tattoo against him. Her skin felt hot. Her eyes stung. Words poured out of her – angry, bitter, barely coherent words.

‘Bastard… bastard… how could you… now… damn you…’

And Heinrix… he stood there and simply accepted it, as if it were a penance he was paying to her. And when she finally exhausted herself… when she had no more bile to vomit up… she sagged against him, and he caught her in his arms and pressed her to his chest. And while something sweet settled over her as she recalled being held like this before, with such sincere tenderness and love, at the same time she was filled with a hot, sick feeling in her stomach and her heart.

‘I am so sorry, Ada.’ His voice finally reached her ears through the roar of blood and misery. ‘I’ve been such a fool. A damned, stubborn fool. But if you could find it in your heart to forgive me… if there was any possible chance that we could…’

He trailed off, but the tightening of his arms around her spoke volumes enough to fill all the ancient libraries on Holy Terra. Ada could sense him breathing in her scent and found herself doing the same – the aroma of leather and cedarwood creeping into her lungs, rousing memories she had thought buried deep beneath a mire of blood and bitterness. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his coat.

‘Heinrix…’

His name choked her, and his answer was to press her even more firmly to his chest, one hand rising to cup the back of her head. How effortlessly he offered his embrace, his comfort, she thought. He had not always been that way, and she remembered how joy had glowed beneath her skin at her discovery that she could stir him to such displays of tenderness when to the rest of the world he only showed the cold mask of an Interrogator.

How easy it would have been to just… surrender to that nostalgia now. That simple human longing for contact without the need for bargains or petitions.

But…

‘Ada,’ he breathed against her ear. ‘Come with me tonight. Stay with me.’

She shivered. There it was. Had she been waiting for this offer? It felt like they had been teetering on the edge of something for weeks now, but this? Hearing him confess himself and bare his heart? Perhaps she should have seen it. Would have seen it if not for her inability to believe in the possibility, and the distraction she had found in another, darker embrace…

And how odd, but beneath the wretchedness and the sick feeling in her stomach, it gave her a sense of peace at last. The realisation that they would finally lay this to rest, one way or another. The blade would finally be removed, and they could begin to heal. Such thoughts gave her the will to draw back from him, although he didn’t relinquish his hold on her.

‘I can’t.’

His hands, which had been pressed to her back and in her hair, slipped around to grasp her arms.

‘You can, Ada. If that is what you choose.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not? Tell me.’

‘You know why,’ she said with a shake of her head, finally summoning the strength to look into his eyes. The discolouration of his reformed iris – something she knew troubled him but which she had always adored –  was all the more prominent this close. His face, which had softened in the moments after his confession, set once more, becoming hard-edged and strong, as though somewhere in his soul he had hefted a blade, ready to strike.

‘You don’t have to be afraid, Ada,’ he said, his soft reassurance contrasting the determined look. ‘I swear to you, on my soul, you will be safe. All you have to do is say the word, and I will ensure that everything is taken care of.’

Her pale eyes narrowed. When her voice came it was faint, and not at all soothed by his conviction. ‘Taken… care of?’ she echoed.

He nodded. ‘One word, Ada, and I shall see to it that the xenos never troubles you again.’

It could not have been Heinrix’s biomancy, but in that moment Ada felt as though her blood had turned to ice in her veins. Every breath filled her lungs with shards of chilled glass.

‘I doubt that it will be go quietly,’ he continued. ‘But that thing has defiled the corridors of your flagship for far too long and I know many who would gladly risk their lives for the chance to be rid of it for good. I know where it is now, waiting for you. With your permission, I will accompany the very best of your crew to your quarters. You need not be involved, unless that is your wish. You need not lay eyes upon that monster again. We can keep it confined below, under heavy guard, and once our business on Eufrates II is done – once we have fulfilled our obligations – it will be my pleasure to hand it over to the Inquisition personally.’

Ada didn’t know what it was – the poison laced in his words, the brightness that came to his chilled gaze as he spoke of his intentions. Perhaps it was his use of that word “personally”. Most likely it was the mere suggestion itself. Fear lanced through her chest, rooting itself deep, and with that blow something awful within her stirred, like the waking movements of an ancient and deadly leviathan that would not be pacified if it were fully awakened.

‘And then?’

He blinked, his confusion was palpable as he turned back to her.

‘Then?’

She nodded, as if the question needed no clarification. But when he didn’t answer, she did clarify, with more than a trace of bitterness. ‘Once our business here is done. When we have fulfilled our obligations. After you have delivered me from this… monster. What then?’

He faltered, so she pressed further.

‘What will you do?’

Understanding dawned, and his hold on her tightened ever so slightly. ‘I shall, with your blessing, remain on your ship. And in your service. I shall leave the Inquisition and devote my life – however long of short it might be – to ensuring your safety. And your happiness.’

Slipping down her arms, his hands once more took hold of hers. Ada watched, her mouth hanging slack as he raised them up and pressed a kiss to her bare knuckles. The thing inside her grew more agitated, and as it twisted it whipped up so many thoughts, feelings and even memories. They rose together, intertwining and finally coalescing slowly into a whole. He saw her expression and must have perceived the revelation as it began to take shape and set firm behind her eyes. It must have given him courage.

‘Come with me, Ada. Please. Let me make amends for my foolishness, as I should have done so long ago. Let me love you as you were meant to be loved.’

He raised her hands to his lips again, but this time they found nothing but air. Ada did not snatch herself from him, not this time. She only stepped back, and her fingers slipped from his grasp. The revelation he had seen forming inside her… it had not been the one he had envisioned. Nor was it the one she herself had imagined when, so long ago now, she had dreamed that Heinrix would have the courage to do this for her. To abandon his duty to the Golden Throne for her sake.

‘No…’ she said and was surprised by the steel calm in her voice. When she reached up to wipe away tears, she discovered that none had fallen, neither in anger or sadness, though her eyes stung and her throat felt tight.

Heinrix looked as though he had been dealt a physical blow.

‘No?’

‘No,’ she repeated.

To his credit, he recovered with remarkable speed. ‘Ada, please hear me, I –’

‘It’s too late, Heinrix,’ she said, taking another step back when he seemed about to reach for her.

‘I refuse to believe that.’

‘Then I don’t know what else to say,’ she said, her body feeling heavy with the knowledge of what she was about to do to this poor man. She shook her head. ‘Void take you, Heinrix,’ she said once more, but with no anger or bitterness this time. Only a wretchedness born from pity. ‘Why?’

‘I told you. I have been a fool. A stubborn, ignorant fool, clinging to duty like a shield. I’m sorry it took all this time, and seeing you suffer the same treatment I have endured, for me to become the man you deserve. But I am ready to be that man now.’ He stared at her, some of the colour leeching from his face. ‘I thought this was what you wanted.’

‘Yes. Six months ago! Where was this man six month ago, when I needed to hear all this? When I would have defied the God-Emperor himself for you… for what we had.’ She raised a hand to her eyes, shaking her head once more. ‘How can you come to me now? How dare you come to me now!’

She had to draw in several long, shuddering breaths at that, as emotion threatened to overrule her. But she made sure to recover herself before Heinrix could find the words to answer her.

‘It’s too late,’ she said. ‘My answer is no.’

He drew back a little at that. At her refusal? Or the absolute finality in her voice?

‘You mean…’

‘I mean no, Heinrix. To all of it. I will not go with you tonight. And I do not give you permission to…’ Bile rose in her throat, but she forced it back down so the words could find their way. ‘I will not allow you to hand Marazhai over to the Inquisition.’

The chill that filled the air between them was instant and unmistakable. She saw the frost crystalising on Heinrix’s gloved fingers as they curled into fists, but she refused to back down, fighting to keep her breath calm and controlled in the face of such anger.

‘Is that thing’s hold on you so strong?’

Their eyes locked, the mismatched grey and the eerie, unnatural white, and the air trembled around them as the warp threatened to seep through, sensing their weakness as emotions ran high.

‘Excuse me?’

Her quiet fury was more than a match for his. Her biomancy now stirred to meet his, sensing her state of mind and bracing as if for a threat. It seeped from between her lips and turned to crimson shards of ice.

‘I have watched for months as you allowed this monstrosity to parade its vile deeds on board your ship,’ he hissed through clenched teeth set in a mask of disgust. His entire body quaked. ‘I’ve heard you indulge its whims, despite everything it has done – to your planets, your people… people you claim to care for. And I have received enough accounts of your… your… damn it, Ada! Do you have any idea what it has done to me to hear the stories? Reports from your crew, the members of your own retinue?’ He shivered, and it was not from the cold. ‘You cannot know… you cannot begin to conceive…’

‘What?’ she demanded with a sneer that was both undeserved and unbecoming. It was her pride talking, wounded by both the jab about Marazhai’s hold on her and the stinging reminder of all his crimes that should have been an insurmountable barrier to any relationship with him. And that was leaving aside her fresh outrage at Heinrix laying his pain at her feet, when it had been he who brought about the end of their relationship. Him… with his constant insistence that they could never have anything long-lasting.

And that was not all, either. It was all merely fuel on the fire of her fierce desire to protect Marazhai from harm. No doubt he would have scoffed at the sentiment, dismissed her concerns with his usual indolence but that was no longer a deterrent for Ada’s instinct to keep him safe and close to her… never mind the gut-churning fear of losing him.

‘Come on, Heinrix,’ she challenged. ‘Enlighten me! What is it I can’t conceive?’

He did not back down, but something in his demeanour shifted as he seemed to wrestle with a new internal conflict. That should have been enough warning for Ada that she would not be comforted by any enlightenment he had to offer. But it was far too late for that warning to be heeded.

‘I wanted to go to you immediately,’ Heinrix said at last, sliding a trembling hand through his hair and fixing his eyes on the distant stars beyond the room’s tall windows. ‘I damn near ran after you right then, to try and salvage something. To at least leave open the possibility… But I felt that, with emotions running so high, it might be prudent to let our tempers cool. I told myself I would give you some time and then…’

Ada waited, a tremor in her chest, for him to go on. That sense of alarm had grown impossible to ignore, drowning out her anger and wounded pride. But like a missile hurtling towards its target, there was no stopping the devastation about to be wrought as Heinrix continued.

‘I was on the verge of coming to your quarters. I had my mind set on a day when I judged that enough time had passed. I can recall so clearly what I intended to say. I had it all planned in my head.’ He drew in a shaking breath. ‘And then… one of my informants brought me news. He said that you had been seen coming up from the lower decks… in the company of the xenos.’

His throat rippled as he swallowed. Ada’s throat felt too dry even for that.

‘I didn’t want to believe it, not even when the details were laid before me. I… I went to your quarters, intending not to waste any more time waiting for the right moment. And I saw that… that thing.’

The feeling had left her hands now. She wanted to tell him – beg him – to stop, but she couldn’t. No words could have squeezed past the thick, burning lump lodged in her throat.

‘I saw it leaving your chambers and I knew… as soon as I saw it… I knew.’

Ada shut her eyes, A sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh escaped her. All anger had been leeched from her, like air from a compressor. Now nothing was left behind but a hollow sensation in her chest.

‘You never…’ She stopped and swallowed hard. ‘You never said anything.’

He made a quiet, bitter sound at the back of his throat as he turned to her. ‘Of course I did not. How could I? You had ended things between us after all. What right did I have to come to you with my feelings on the matter?’ He shook his head, his teeth clenched hard behind that strong jaw. ‘Though, if I am honest, a part of me hoped that you would come to our senses on your own. That the xenos would make some misstep and you might… we might…’ He shut his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. ‘If I had known then how long it would go on, how bad things would become, I would have made my feelings plainer a long time ago. I would have done everything in my power to save you from that thing. Or I suppose save you from yourself.’

But he had not, Ada thought to herself, and she could see the same thought knifing Heinrix in the chest, so there was no need for her to speak it aloud.

‘Is that what this is?’ she asked instead. ‘You’re here to “save” me from my own heresy? How gallant. A true agent of the Golden Throne.’

It was an unfair question, rising like a poisoned vine from her anger and bitterness, and he did indeed look hurt.

‘I had hoped you would do me more credit than that, Ada,’ he retorted, and she felt a sting of shame. ‘I confess that I do wish to deliver you from that monster’s clutches, but it has precious little to do with my duty to the Inquisition. I simply do not want to see you hurt anymore.’

‘Like you hurt me?’ she accused, unable to help herself from jamming the knife in deeper.

The temperature dropped several more degrees, even for Ada to sense the tingle of her biomancy as it warmed her from within to combat the chill.

Heinrix shook his head. ‘I know that I hurt you, Ada. And I’m sorry for that. More sorry than I could ever say. But you cannot tell me that the pain I caused you in any way compares to your treatment at the hands of the xenos.’

Ada bristled at that. She wasn’t going to justify the things that she and Marazhai did together. What would be the point? She doubted any platitudes would satisfy Heinrix, not now or ever. So, she resorted to the only other weapon she could call to her hand.

‘You’re right, it doesn’t compare. Marazhai might hurt me physically but…’

She stopped. Not because the rest of the sentence was obvious, but because she realised suddenly that what she had been about to say – that Marazhai had never hurt her heart the way Heinrix had done – was a hideous lie. More and more he had found ways to bring about that suffering he valued most – the suffering of the soul. Had that been his intention? It certainly had not been hers when all this began. The opposite in fact. The whole point of being with him was that she would never allow herself to become attached in such a way. Never allow herself to be reduced to a blubbering, heartbroken wreck at the thought of him leaving.

And yet… somehow…

Heinrix, of course, astute as ever, must have realised something of what was going through her mind.

‘Is that why you did it? Because you did not wish to be abandoned by another… lover?’

He almost choked on that last word and Ada winced, both at his undisguised revulsion and the memories his question evoked. So many memories of lovers torn from her by war, by betrayal… and by forces she had been unaware of and still did not fully understand. Heinrix knew of them, of course. She had brought up more than one during many past conversations – Foster, the murderer of Edward Callaghan; a sweet fellow solider who had died in her arms in the thick of battle; even an Inquisitor she had spent weeks nursing back to health when her squad was given the task of accompanying him on an assignment, and who she had never seen again after her sudden reassignment to a distant outpost.

Perhaps, after so many losses, she should have been accustomed to loneliness. Perhaps her lesson should have been learned long before she had met Heinrix or Marazhai. But no…

‘It… it wasn’t like that…’ she ventured at last.

‘For your sake I hope not,’ he said. ‘Because if you think for a moment that the xenos of all things won’t abandon you – either when it grows bored or when a better opportunity is presented to it – you are a greater fool than I thought.’

Her head snapped up. ‘You –’

‘Do you really think it is here for any reason other than its own interest?’ he plunged on, heedless of her hurt. ‘Because this ship provides it with the best chance of survival in the Expanse? It has no influence, no Kabal, no friends… nothing but its tenuous alliance with you. It is no wonder it swooped in the moment it saw an opportunity to ingratiate itself with you! The only true shock is that you did not see it for what it was!’

There was a pause. A terrible pause as the bitter anger rose between them once more – a flood in which they would both drown.

‘Or perhaps you chose not to see it,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you like the fact that it has nowhere to go, and is reliant on you for its safety?’

He gave a hollow laugh and Ada’s anger flared. But this time it was guilt that made it burn all the brighter. Was that true? Was her sense of security with Marazhai only because he depended on her for his survival? True it had been some time now since she had felt that crushing terror of being abandoned by him – and it only reared its head now at Heinrix’s insinuation that Marazhai was biding his time, waiting for something better.

Was she that selfish?

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. She could sense a multitude of foolish and naïve-sounding phrases lining up – that Heinrix didn’t understand, that it wasn’t like that, that what she and Marazhai had was… was… what?

‘Perhaps you could give me a little more credit now,’ she said finally.

‘I honestly don’t know if I can,’ he replied. ‘Because here I am, offering you everything you wished for. My heart. My service. To be at your side forever. And still you say no. What am I to make of that? Except to think that you actually…’

He trailed off, staring into the distance for an instant as his thoughts finally caught up to the words he was speaking. A look of revulsion formed on his features like the fast spread of an infection and his head turned. His eyes bored into hers, as if waiting – hoping – for her to offer a denial of what had passed through his mind yet remained too terrible to be spoken aloud. Ada felt the insinuation sink in, and a fresh revelation rose inside her to meet it. No, not a revelation exactly. A secret finally lured up to into the light, taking its first steps towards reality. Something she had held onto for so long but never allowed herself to fully acknowledge. Never dared to.

Heinrix must have seen this too, because the roiling disgust in his eyes turned to something else.

It turned to horror.

‘Oh Ada, no… do not tell me that you really think that you –’

She held up her hand, a swift sharp gesture to cut him off. She did not want Heinrix of all people to be the first one to speak that truth aloud. That would have been abhorrent. He seemed to realise this too, because he closed his mouth on the instant, and she saw his throat pulse as he swallowed, and Ada could have sworn that she tasted his bile in the air. It tore her lungs with every breath.

When he finally dared speak again, he sounded choked. Winded.

‘This is… unconscionable.’

He expected her to be ashamed, she realised. For this to be the final horror that brought her crashing back to reality. But that was not at all what she felt. She was reeling. The weight of revelation was both crushing and uplifting, which was probably why she felt dizzy and sick, yet also euphoric.

‘I’m sorry, Heinrix,’ she said. Not for how she felt, but for hurting him. How could she not be sorry for that? She had fallen far, but not so far that she didn’t recognise the wretchedness of his circumstance. She wanted to weep for him. This was a man she had loved once. He had taught her regicide. Shown her how to dance so that she would not shame herself at her own Magnae Accessio. In the darkest place in the world, surrounded by death and pain, he had held her and comforted her and made her feel as though nothing could touch her while she lay in the circle of his arms. And now, when he was finally ready to lay everything on the line for her, it was too late. There was no room in her heart for him anymore, not in that way. The lingering thoughts that had plagued her these past weeks, she now realised with sharp clarity, were not for Heinrix himself. They were not a reflection of deeply buried feelings she still harboured for him.

No.

They were the only way for her to process her longing for all the things she wanted from Marazhai. It was his embrace that she wanted. His hands holding hers. His kisses on her forehead, her cheeks… her lips.

The fact that he gave these so rarely, if he gave them at all, no longer mattered. Their very rarity had elevated them above all other considerations, even her own safety and sanity. Amidst the carnal brutality of their connection – the hours spent beneath his knife, facing the sting of the agoniser and the myriad other cruelties he had bestowed in the name of passion – a strange alchemy had transformed those fleeting moments of intimacy into gold. Into her greatest and most perverse treasures.

But it still hurt to see Heinrix step away from her. Her heart ached to see the man she had once loved, who she had once dared to imagine a future with, disappearing behind a mask of ice. It was like witnessing a death.

‘I truly was too late,’ he murmured.

She had never heard him so broken. But she said nothing, only nodded. What more was left to say? He somehow mustered a stiff bow to her before departing the room, leaving only the chill behind. Ada groped blindly for a nearby chair and sank down on the cushioned seat, her pale hands spread against the lacquered surface of the conference table. After a moment she brought them together as if in prayer and pressed them between her eyes as tears began to stream down, warm against her chilled skin.

She might have sat there for an age, or only seconds, crying for all that might have been, but also feeling the warmth slowly return to the room around her.

Then she stood, swiped the tears from her cheeks, and began the walk towards her chambers.

And while she walked, she allowed herself to feel. Really feel. She did not swallow down her regret, or push aside the trembling, terrified thrill that grew inside her. It all poured forth from her and, as she walked, her steps went from slow and trudging to swift and light. She was almost running by the time she reached the elevator that would take her to her chambers and had to lean against the plasteel wall to catch her breath as she descended.

The Engine of Pain met her in the entryway, creeping forward with its tentacles snaking across the carpet. This time, her command was steady and assured, and it retreated without hesitation while she made her way towards the bathroom, where she knew Marazhai would be waiting for her.

Something in her chest clenched tight when she saw him. He was already in the pool, his back towards the arch. His pale skin glowed in the half-light cast from the few lamps he had chosen to keep burning and glistened with droplets of water. That long, lustrous hair hung down his back, clinging to his scarred flesh. As she watched, he dipped a large silver ewer into the water, tilted his dark head back and let the liquid cascade over him. The lean muscles rippled as he stretched, and she could make out the dark juts of his augmented spine that always seemed poised to burst through his skin.

Once again, she let herself sink deep into her own feelings, without fear or reservation. What she understood now… the revelation that flowed through her… she wasn’t ready to say it aloud to anyone, she knew that with a certainty. But it was there, nevertheless. It was as pure and painful as a well-crafted blade slipped slowly into her ribs to touch her heart. Beautiful and dangerous, just as he was. Ada knew that no one would understand it – this strange kinship she had found with him; the strength she drew from his presence; the similarities that she never would have imagined sharing with a creature like him. They would have been horrified at the mere thought, never mind any attempt to explain or justify it. But that no longer mattered to her.

Sometimes, one had to accept things as they were.

The familiar, soft rumble of his laughter echoed off the tiled walls, stirring her from her reverie.

‘While I do not fault you for your admiration, I have been waiting long enough for your arrival,’ he said without looking round. ‘My patience does have its limits, my delight.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, though not quite quickly enough to avoid a narrow gaze cast over one shoulder. Ada had no idea what he could sense in her at that moment, but she did not back down. ‘I was… detained.’

‘And what exactly could be so important as to keep you from your reward?’ he asked, his tone still light, but taking on the faintest of edges. It was as if he had sensed the tension in the air and had done the mental equivalent of putting his hand on the hilt of his weapon. He did gesture for her to join him, at least, and she stepped into the room, never once taking her eyes off him.

‘Some unfinished business,’ she explained, leaving her clothes in a pile on the marble floor, only taking the time to place the dog tags in a small dish at the edge of the pool. She moved towards him at last, her feet making no noise as she ascended the steps, and just the faintest of splashes as she slipped into the water.

He scoffed gently, refilling the ewer. ‘Tying up loose ends before your raid?’ His tongue clicked in reproach. ‘Anyone would think that you –’

He stopped. Ada had done more than join him in the water. She had waded up to him in silence and, without even thinking, wound her arms around his narrow torso, her hands coming to rest against his chest. Her forehead pressed against the jutting vertebrae and she could feel the wetness of his skin wherever she touched him, smell the wetness of his hair and the faintest trace of vanilla and almond. She could also feel the sudden stiffness that had taken hold of him and knew its cause. This was not part of her reward. Not something she had requested or begged of him. But in this moment, she did not care. She would accept any punishment for her transgression. She needed this, and clung tighter in defiance of any protest that he might make.

But he made none. A small miracle, but she suspected it was only because he was waiting for her explanation, wondering if it would be enough to justify such impertinence from his little pet. She gave a shudder against him as she drew her courage together, deciding that there was no sense in dancing around the issue.

‘It was Heinrix who stopped me. He… he asked me to go with him. To his room.’

Even the mention of Heinrix’s name stole the warmth from the air. But the rest? Not even the heat of the water could take the edge off the chill that filled the room. Under her touch, Marazhai went still, the tension in him far exceeding what had come before, as if they were both frozen in this tiny shred of eternity. Trapped in time. Ada knew she could only break the impasse by going on, despite the danger.

‘He said he would leave the Inquisition to stay with me. And that, if I agreed, he would… take care of you.’

‘Did he.’

There was enough poison in Marazhai’s voice to kill a whole Space Marine chapter. Beneath her fingers, she could feel his heart, and how its frantic rhythm faltered. She pressed the flat of her palm over it, as if that might soothe him. A foolish idea.

‘And should I prepare my blades?’ he asked, brimming with scorn and what might have been disgust. ‘Have you come for one final thrill before you send your servants to die at my hand?’

It was not possible for Ada to hold him any tighter, but she felt her muscles ache with the effort, and she shook her head, nuzzling against his back. The thoughts his words conjured brought bile to her throat.

‘No, Marazhai. Never…’

She heard his sneer over the trickle of water.

‘Are you sure? Are you sure that you would not rather retreat back to the comfort of your insipid mon-keigh passions? You have been afforded the perfect opportunity after all. Why not abandon the path to true sensation for a tedious fumble between the sheets with your prized broodmale?’

‘Stop, please,’ she begged him, her voice muffled against his skin, her speech coming in fragments, as if the cut of Marazhai’s words had sliced her own into tatters. ‘Please, don’t call him that. He’s not… he hasn’t been… not for a long time… not since you…’

He endeavoured to tear himself away then. It took all her will to keep herself pressed to him, and she knew even that should not have been enough with his great strength. She couldn’t be certain what it was that stayed him, whether it was the choked moan that she gave as he tried to wrest himself from her arms or something in the way she clung on with such fervent desperation, but he remained, shaking and snarling.

‘You expect me to believe such platitudes?’ he spat at her over his shoulder. ‘When it is his name that you whimper as you bask in the pleasures I grant?’

It was hard to contain a gasp at his accusation. Still, after so much time had passed, that one event continued to eat away at his pride. She had thought that quarrel buried too deep to be unearthed, and it would remain unaddressed forever. Well, perhaps now was finally the time to put it to rest once and for all. She could not let it continue to fester between them, not now that she knew that it still plagued him. It was a rotten tooth that must be pulled up, root and all.

‘Marazhai… I need you to understand why that happened.’

‘And what exactly is there for me to understand?’

She squeezed her eyes shut, uncertain if she could stomach more of his vitriol. She would have given anything to be spared this conversation tonight, of all nights. She had been so ready so simply bask in his attention. Now she was fighting to hold on to him and what they had somehow built between them. If only she could find the right words…

‘I was dreaming when that happened. Dreaming of Commorragh… and the Pit.’

She waited. Marazhai said nothing, but she was aware that she had his full attention, even if it did feel like being under the watch of a predator, waiting for its prey to make a wrong move.

‘I went to him. Just after we saved him from that device Tervantias was keeping him in. And we…’ She felt a vibration under her hands as he growled low in his throat, and although she was tempted to check herself, she knew she had to go on. ‘It was the first time. Our first time.’

She turned her cheek to press it against his damp skin.

‘And you… watched us. Didn’t you.’

The change in him was so subtle, Ada fancied that no one but herself would have taken note of it.

‘It was hardly worth the effort to do so,’ he said with a leer. ‘Although it made your willingness to submit to me less surprising. I could not fathom how any creature would be satisfied with such inept efforts.’

His words were not merely spiteful but untrue, at least as far as human pleasures went. There had been nothing unsatisfying in that first time with Heinrix, she knew. It was only her later dream that had soured the memory of it. But Ada reminded herself that this was beside the point.

‘But you did watch us,’ she confirmed.

‘What of it?’

She shivered, the warmth of the water lapping around her ribs failing to reach the chill at her centre. ‘When I was dreaming… it was all I could think about. You were all I could think about.’

She shifted her head again, her forehead resting against the jut of a sharp vertebrae. The tension in him remained, but she could feel him hanging on her every word.

‘That memory… that dream should have been something pleasant. But it all felt wrong. Everything I was experiencing was tangled up and I couldn’t sort out my past from my present. And then you were… you were doing things to me and that somehow made it even more complicated. I was enjoying what you did to me, but in the dream I was just… sickened. All I wanted was for it to be over. To wake up. And t felt like the only way to do that was push through the memory… all the way to the end when I…’

A shudder coursed through her as she remembered just how desperate she had felt in those moments, and so utterly hopeless to control anything, despite knowing how the dream would end.

‘What I’m trying to say,’ she went on at last, ‘is that me calling his name had nothing to do with wanting him. Because I didn’t. I don’t. In fact, I’m convinced that it’s not even possible anymore.’

There was another, almost imperceptible change in him at this, and she dared to allow herself a spark of hope that her words were resonating with him. Perhaps he could sense the truth in her words, especially when remembering how he had stumbled on her at the height of her pleasure and heard his own name on her lips. Emboldened, she pushed a little further.

‘I don’t think you realise just how thoroughly you’ve ruined me for anyone else.’

A silence descended, broken only by the sound of trickling water. Until, finally, she felt his chest rise beneath her hands as he drew a breath, and the faintest of vibrations that might have been a purr or the beginnings of a growl.

‘“Anyone else?”’

For a moment she panicked, thinking that she had botched the whole thing with a poor turn of phrase. She could have screamed, but the tone of his voice was different now. Some of his sharpness had been withdrawn. He was toying with her now, claws sheathed, and the beginnings of a purr in his voice that both invited and challenged her to continue.

Risking a smile, however small, she nuzzled against him, and one of her hands slipped around to caress the ridges of scars woven across his back, the other remaining as it was, pressed against his ever-thrashing heart. ‘There is no one else. I swear to you. Not now… not ever again.’ Her voice is firm, brimming with conviction, and she gives a firm press against his chest as if to lend extra weight to her promise before going on. ‘I know it seems like I made a choice tonight, but the truth is… the truth is the time for choice disappeared a long time ago.’

That was truer than she had ever realised. In the beginning she had thought of her dalliance with Marazhai as like walking a path. One fraught with danger at every step, but still one that, at any time, she could choose to diverge from, or even turn back, should she choose to. But no. Being with him had turned out to be like stepping over a steep precipice. Ever since that first feast, she had been spiralling into a deep well of desire and obsession, with nothing to pull her back. And now, she had not merely fallen so far that nothing could reach her, she actually felt more at home in the darkness than anywhere else.

‘You are everything,’ she whispered, letting her lips brush his skin – the softest caress. ‘Nothing else matters. No one else.’

All was still and quiet for a few moments, except for the water swirling around them. Ada swallowed and lifted her head, preparing to break the silence with some other assurance of her devotion to him, but even as her lips parted, she felt him stir, and beneath her palm his heart seemed to settle into that familiar, quick yet steady cadence. There was a stir in the water and then pressure against her fingers… his own larger hand entirely covering hers.

‘Once more your silver-tongued flatteries serve you well.’

The relief was like on intoxicant delivered straight to the vein, and she sighed, pressing more of herself to him now, as if she could meld their bodies into one. She burrowed her head against his back, and when he still made no comment on her impropriety, it gave her a little more courage.

‘Stay with me.’

A human might not have heard that fragile whisper, but the soft sound Marazhai made told her that it had reached him. She felt his grip on her hand tighten as he pulled it away and turned to face her. She saw him clearly at last, the skin luminous and his shadowed eyes flickering with the light of the lamps, along with something else… the familiar dark promise of his attention.

Long fingers grasped her chin and tilted her face up.

‘You dare to command me…’ he whispered.

It was one of those moments where the perfect response was there on her tongue in an instant. She shook her head, and fingers played across his chest.

‘No, my torment. I am begging you.’

She saw the tendons in his neck go rigid, and his fingers pinched her chin tighter. The thin upper lip pulled back as he leaned in, fangs exposed as if to bite her. She did not flinch. She did not even brace herself for the pain. Instead, she lowered her guard just a little, enough to let him sense the faintest whisper of what she now feared more than anything else… the fear that his answer to her question would be no. That she might lose him for good.

Just that simple taste was enough to make him pull back as though she had struck him. His growl was a wild thing coming awake in his throat, and he seized hold of her arms tight enough that she could feel the flesh bruising. Perhaps he thought he could wring the secret from her that way. But she enfolded the feeling back within herself, like tucking a precious jewel into a pocket. Somehow his ferocity, the way he leaned into her throat and drew a deep breath, made it easier. His dark eyes flared in outrage at being denied his prize in this game, but he did not allow his temper to rule him for long. He shackled it with a mixture of pride and determination.

‘You do beg so well,’ he said, his voice somewhere between a lustful purr and a barely restrained snarl.

‘You didn’t answer me,’ she pressed, sliding one hand down his chest, feeling the hard muscles grow tense as her touch moved lower and lower. She felt his cock stirring just below her breasts, but before she could wrap her fingers around it, he took a firm hold on her wrist. A soft tsk echoed through the bathing chamber.

‘First… your reward.’

Ada wanted to say something clever and sweet; suggest perhaps that he was all the reward she needed. But he touched a finger to her lips in a silent command, and she wisely said nothing. Instead, she bit her lip and allowed herself to be turned and walked backwards towards the far end of the pool, until she came up against the raised ledge. Marazhai lifted her onto it, so that she was sitting in about half an inch of water, and his smile was sharp-toothed and seductive as he reached above her, and she saw what he had set up in preparation for her reward.

Hanging from the sconce above her head was a set of chains, perfectly set so that as Marazhai fastened her into them, her arms were held up with just the slightest tension. He ran his hands over her body, mapping carefully her narrow hips and the curve of her breasts as if it were his first time touching her. When she playfully squeezed her legs around him, he pinched a nipple between his fingers in warning, and she allowed him to return to the far edge of the pool, where he picked up a small black and gold jar she had not noticed when she entered. It was not one of the usual jars that were on hand to hold the myriad of soaps and oils at her disposal. He set it beside her, lifted the lid and scooped up a translucent, jelly-like substance from within. Holding her gaze, he rubbed it between his palms, and it seemed to dissolve against his skin, turning to slippery oil in seconds.

He must have read her curiosity in her eyes. His chuckle mingled with the sound of running water as he held up his glistening fingers.

‘A little something to enhance this experience… a Drukhari toxin, though refined for our purposes here. To allow for your fragile constitution.’

‘You still think of me as fragile?’ she asked, feigning offence with a delicate pout.

‘I shall grant that you have more resilience than other mon-keigh, though that says very little in itself. But I doubt even you could survive this in its purest form, my delight. In Commorragh it is common for the weak and foolish to overindulge and suffer the agonising, and ultimately lethal consequences.’

He smirked as though the idea thrilled him to the depths of his dark soul. Ada, however, was slightly less elated.

‘And you plan to use it on me?’

Still grinning, he grasped her beneath one knee, lifting it out of the water so that he could take hold her foot. Where he touched, she felt a tingle on her skin that would have been easy to mistake for numbness, but she knew was not.

‘While the toxin itself is infamous among my kind… this particular use is a secret of the Aezyrraesh. Passed down from mother to son.’

‘Your mother?’ she asked, her interest piqued. Marazhai had only mentioned her once, long ago when he’d indulged her curiosity about the world he came from. Ada could not remember her name, but she did remember that one of her titles had included the word “poisoner”.

Marazhai nodded, his hands working in a strong and steady rhythm as he massaged the oil into her pale, delicate foot, applying just enough pressure to make her tense as though bracing for him to crush the bones, but always relaxing just before the pain set in. ‘She was one of the Lhamaean – a courtesan in your primitive tongue. Her skill with poison knew no equal. This substance was one of her particular favourites. And mine.’

He said it deliberately, and she allowed herself to feel the sting of jealousy for an instant before sweeping it aside. The past did not matter.

‘So… it’s safe?’

An admonishing look at her use of that word, and a slightly harder squeeze. ‘It will ensure your gratification and minimise the risk of a… fatal reaction.’

‘This does not sound like the soothing bath I requested,’ she said, and feigned tugging her ankle from his grip. The tingle there had altered, no longer akin to numbness. Now it was more a pleasant sensation, like fizzing beneath her skin. When his fingers brushed against an oiled piece of skin it sent a pulse through her that she seemed to feel in every cell of her body, but most of all in her nipples and the throbbing heat between her legs.

‘My dear pet, you wound me,’ he purred, his fingers sliding up her calf, teasing the back of her knee until she gave a faint whimper and the chains over her head clinked as she strained against them. ‘Have I ever failed to give you what you crave?’

‘No,’ she murmured, her teeth closing on her lower lip as the feeling now spread to her calves. ‘But you are very adept at making my rewards suit you.’

A dark eyebrow arched. ‘Perhaps you lack the skill to phrase your requests correctly.’

‘My torment…’ she whispered, the faintest trace of something in her voice that was both plea and warning.

His smile did not waver, but it did alter. Suddenly it was more intense and alluring, enticing her into this fresh thrill. His voice dripped like rich dark honey when he leaned close to pour his promises into her ear, nipping the soft lobe between his teeth.

‘I give you my word, my delight, once we are done here you will feel… soothed.’

Ada raised an eyebrow in turn when he pulled away to gauge her response. Not in mockery or disbelief. It was an invitation for him to prove his word true. And it was another strange way for her to give her consent. To place herself in his hands entirely, as she so often did. Strange, but she wondered how he could be so ignorant of what this signified. That she trusted him, in her own way. She remembered well his disdain for the very concept. Yet one of the few things she trusted now was that Marazhai would always be himself, and she knew him well enough by now to anticipate his actions and motives, and thus work with or around them as needed. And she knew that he saw enough value on her life that he would not put her at too great a risk, at least not deliberately.

Until he grows bored of you, or finds some better prospect…

They were Heinrix’s words, but distorted by something within her, taking on that same poisonous quality as Ada’s own thoughts in her darkest moments. She shut her eyes and stamped down hard on the thought, grinding it down under her heel. Not tonight. Not when this might be the last time they were ever…

She gave a whimper as Marazhai’s slick palm moved up her thigh, bending her leg up just to the point where he reached the curve of her buttock before shifting and sliding back down towards her knee. Beneath his fingers the warm oil was making more and more of Ada’s flesh tingle. He held her gaze all the while, feeling his way and smiling as he felt her tense up when his touch came so tantalisingly close to her core before pulling away. An ache was forming in her, the urge to beg for him building by the second.

And that wasn’t all…

The sensation left by the oil, whatever it was, was beginning to intensify. At first it was his touch that had sent shockwaves of pleasure dancing along her skin. But now the sensation seemed to be constant wherever the oil had been worked into her skin, regardless of whether he touched her. And when he did touch her, deliberately or by accident, a gasp would escape her, a jolt rushing through nerves that were rapidly becoming confused by this excess. It was still pleasure, yes… but so much of it. Too much…

He finished with her legs and moved onto her arms, scooping up more of the substance to massage into her. His face was inches from hers when he leaned in, so she could feel his breath on her. The chains clinked as his long fingers wrapped around her wrists. Unlike her legs, he did them both at once, sliding down their entire length until he cupped her shoulders, then swooping back up towards her hands again. He laced their fingers together for an instant before repeating the action. Ada gave a whimper, her lips falling slack as his teeth teased the line of her jaw and the corner of her mouth.

‘Mar… Mara…’

His name caught in a throat that was suddenly dust dry. Looming over her, Marazhai shuddered, obviously feeling the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through her… so overwhelming that it was now tipping the balance into something else. He made a final slow pass up and down her arms and then let his hands slip low onto her breasts. Against her stomach she could feel his cock pressing. When she dared to look down, she could see its multitude of piercings and bars gleaming wetly along its hard length. She had never felt hungrier for it. To have it wherever it pleased him to put it. She didn’t care. All that mattered was that she needed to feel his flesh buried within hers.

She squeezed him with her thighs, trying to entice him in…

Her head hit the tiled wall as it curved back. The pressure of her oiled legs around his waist, the friction of skin on skin, sent a jolt of the most delicious agony straight to her core, sensation far beyond what a simple movement should have been able to produce. It was like the difference between holding her hand close to a warm candle flame and shoving it deep into the hot coals of an engine’s furnace. By the Throne, it was everywhere now, spreading wherever he had touched her. Even now it was slowly seeping into her breasts as Marazhai cupped and kneaded them, taking his time before moving onto her stomach. When he leant forward and took a nipple between his teeth her entire body quaked as she sought to hold in a scream.

He saw her do it and his retribution was swift. His hand came down hard on her thigh and she screeched, the sound echoing off the tiles. It hadn’t even been a hard strike. But it felt like her entire leg had been crushed.

‘Do not dare to hold back from me, my delight,’ he growled. This time, when his fangs grazed her nipple, she let loose a banshee’s wail that made his eyes roll back and his hips buck forward.

But he returned to his task, swift and more urgent than ever. He slicked her shoulders and back next, crowding her against the wall as he traced the ridges of her spine and the nape of her neck all the way down to her backside. He lifted her slightly to find the soft flesh beneath, and her core clenched as his fingers came close to brushing her sex, drawing a animal mewling sound from her lips. Ada had no doubt that if he had not used the contents of that jar, she would have been putty in his hands. But with it? She was a quivering wreck, her vision blurred and her throat raw from sobs and screams alike. There was no sign of anything wrong with her skin, but it felt as though it were being dissolved in acid, and all she wanted to do was start peeling it away. Inside her veins she could feel her biomancy churning angrily, fighting a battle against this invasive substance. It was hard to concentrate well enough to soothe it, to hold it back long enough so that she could see this through…

Finished at last, Marazhai cupped her face between his palms, leaning in close until their foreheads touched.

‘Can you feel it, my delight?’ he asked, weaving against her in a serpent-like movement that sent her spiralling into the euphoric fog of pain and pleasure. ‘That is your nerve endings, stimulated far beyond their natural limitations. In its purest form this delightful toxin would turn the lightest of touches into a dull blade puncturing your flesh. Even the whisper of breath across your skin would be like peeling it away to the bone.’

He ran his tongue over the seam of her mouth before drawing back, his hand reaching up to scoop a final, smaller sample of the ointment from its jaw. He made sure she was watching as he rubbed his fingers together, his eyes so dark with lust she could barely see the band of turquoise. He spread them open, and a gleaming, gossamer thread stretched between his thumb and middle finger.

‘You could say I inherited my mother’s fascination and fondness for such things. To think that a single drop or fluid could reduce even the most indomitable Archon to a feeble-minded wreck. That a single breath of poisoned air could elevate the senses of a lowly mon-keigh enough for them to glimpse that oblivion of ecstasy. Much like the gift that allowed me to bring you to Commorragh. Do you remember?’

Ada nodded, and he smiled, his head tilted to the side as he placed his newly oiled fingers against her navel. He was right. That simple touch was like a burn, and she did not know whether to lean away or into it. And as his fingers began to slip lower, she saw both deliverance and damnation. His fingers glided over the downy hair between her legs and found the damp folds of her sex, the only part of her he had left untouched by his fingers and his strange gift.

Until now…

‘Ahhh…’

She moaned as he slipped his long, claw-tipped fingers into her with sinful ease, and immediately felt that tingling feeling spread along her inner walls as they clenched around him. Through her trembling eyelids she could feel him watching her every reaction as she shuddered, her arms aching as they strained against the chains. Everything was pain now. Unspeakable, glorious pain. He bent his head to nuzzle against her once more, and even though her senses were in turmoil she could sense the deep breath he took. And he drew in more – one after another – as his mouth trailed a path of torment down her body. It needed only the lightest of touches; the merest flick of his tongue or nip of teeth. And all the while his fingers worked their way into her, his pace increasing, ensuring that there was pleasure blended with her agony. Her nerves were a tattered mess by the time his mouth closed over the aching bud just above his hand. He circled it with his tongue, suckled it until he almost drew another scream from her.

And then he pulled back.

‘Don’t…’ she cried out, the first coherent word she had managed in some time. Her core fluttered around nothing and burned as it did so. His shape receded from view, but only briefly. When he returned, he was holding something long, slender and black between his hands. Even through the deepest delirium Ada would have recognised the agoniser. If his touch was enough to leave her shrieking, what would this do to her now?

But it was not the lash he gave her this time. He did not wield that wicked toy as he so often did during their passion play. Instead, he bent it back on itself, forming a thick curve with the numerous serrated barbs turned out. He brought it closer, and she sobbed again as he nudged her legs apart. She could hear the hum of the electrical charge buried within that coil, ready to surge through the nearest suitable conductor. She drew in several shuddering breaths as Marazhai teased it against her slit.

But he didn’t unleash the charge immediately. He tormented her a while longer, bending that loop into as much of a point as he could and letting it delve in deep, until she was sobbing and screaming his name. But when he did… oh, how her vision darkened. Her own cries warped in her ears. The snap of the current on her overstimulated skin as like a thousand hooks embedded deep, pulling her in all directions. Even her cheeks were in pain from where he had cupped her face, and her tears now felt like acid as they cut down to her jaw.

‘Do you feel it?’ he asked again suddenly, unleashing another charge that swept over her like white-hot fire. ‘Is it not exquisite? That sensation of being torn apart atom by atom? And yet the pain seems to be all that holds you together?’

It was true. She moaned her answer and when he placed his hand against her aching cheek she tilted into his excruciating caress. She felt him draw closer, and then a brief moment of emptiness as the agoniser was suddenly withdrawn… only to be replaced by something else familiar.

He entered her with a slow, easy motion, the oils and her own slick giving easy passage to the flesh and metal. She saw his eyes roll back again as he took a fistful of her hair and began to thrust, each movement accompanied by a savage and shuddering snarl. Through the pain of every movement she realised that the substance was affecting him too, most especially on his cock as the friction of their bodies embedded it deep. She finally managed to speak his name, and in doing so drew his eyes back to her, and in the instant their eyes met, and they found that liquid rhythm they had shared so often, she had a sense of her pain and pleasure melding not just with each other, but with his.

She knew that Marazhai felt it too when his grip on her tightened, his teeth baring in a feral growl. He moved faster, and she felt every thrust through her entire body in a way she hadn’t felt before, each one threatening to unravel her cell by cell and send her scattered particles into the void to mingle with the stars.

He released her hair and took hold of the chain above her. With a single savage pull he tore the sconce from the wall, catching Ada in his arms as she fell forward. She writhed and worked herself on him as he held her aloft with one arm, her shackled wrists falling around his neck.

‘Are you ready?’ he snarled above her, and she realised he still held the agoniser in his hand, its length now trailing in the water beside them. She could hear the hum of its charge waiting to be unleashed and clung tighter to him as she realised his intention. It was all the answer he needed. He swung his arm in a wide arc, and the barbed coil passed around them both, the points biting hard and adding new notes of ecstasy to their harmony.

And in the split second before Marazhai unleashed that charge, he plunged them both deep beneath the water.

The shock of the electric current was like having every nerve of her body twisted, tightened and pulled taut. Every part of her stiffened, her core clenching around Marazhai. He was still inside her but buried in deep, so she could feel the minute tremors as the agoniser’s power skittered through his nervous system, the water ensuring that it reached everywhere all at once. Their muscles contracted together, that feeling that she was about to come apart reached a terrifying climax…

… and at the very instance she reached that peak, with her heart struggling in her chest and supernovas dancing behind her eyelids, the tension vanished. The current disappeared and their joined bodies convulsed as one. Ada felt their hips buck together and the exquisite sensation of him filling her with both flesh and fluid.

Marazhai recovered first and fast, bringing them both up for air just before Ada was forced to draw in a lungful of water. Trembling all over her found the steps that led out of the bath and seated himself there, with Ada cradled in his lap. She whimpered as he unfastened the chains from her wrists, then tugged on the agoniser, pulling the barbs free of both her skin and his before setting it aside. It no longer hummed, and Ada wondered, through the lingering fog, if it had been broken. No. Marazhai would not have ruined his favourite toy.

He gave a great shudder, and she cried out. Even sat there with him, her skin seemed to burn, and it took her some time to find her voice, or at least trust it enough to come without more than a crack.

‘I do not… feel soothed… my torment…’

Beneath her cheek his chest vibrated with the familiar dark chuckle, and the arms around her squeezed. It was hard to tell which sensation made the multicoloured blooms return to her vision. Most likely it was both.

‘But I have not finished with you yet.’

He reached over to the edge of the pool, where a small piled of folded cloths lay. Alongside was one of her more familiar soap jars, and she caught the aroma of vanilla as Marazhai scooped it up with his fingers. This time when he rubbed it between his hands it did not turn to oil but formed a pleasant lather that he began to rub across her back and shoulders. In the beginning she tried to pull away from him, the sensation too much for her overstimulated nerves. The excruciating sting left her whimpering and wincing, but he refused to relinquish her, not even troubling with a subtle warning growl. She succumbed, as she always did, and instead loosened her hold on her biomancy in the hopes that it would aid his ministrations. He gave no objections, and the red vapour weaved over them both, swift to seal over the punctures left by the agoniser and quell the subtle nausea that tried to take hold.

And she found that by slow degrees the pain gave way beneath his fingers as they worked over her flesh, bringing relief in almost the exact way they had brought torture. Ada couldn’t be certain if the substance had merely run its course, or if it was being washed away, but as its effects were dulled a wonderful new feeling took its place – a pleasant tingling not unlike the one that had settled in when Marazhai’s gift had first taken root. And, in a curious way, it was also reminiscent of how she felt after waking up from a night spent with the Engine of Pain. She felt remade. New. Except this was more a physical sensation than an emotional one. As though her body had been so overloaded with sensation that it had been reset; purged of any impurity and leaving nothing but a delightful sense that every touch was the first, and every caress went beyond the physical to reach something deeper inside.

He manipulated her carefully while never letting her leave her place, leaning back against his scarred chest as his long, lathered fingers glided and slipped across her breasts, stomach and thighs. Soon the lines on her face smoothed out, and the corners of her mouth turned up into a contented smile. Soothed? Oh yes, she was soothed. She basked in his attention like some hibernating creature emerging from dark, dreamless sleep to soak up the sun’s light. Her skin, tingling and still oversensitive, vibrated at his every touch, and she leaned into every caress, eager for more of the sensation. His cock responded to her murmurs and the subtle movement of her body against his, until he groaned and turned her towards him, lifting them both up the steps until only their legs remained in the water. With a lustful snarl he speared her on his length, the motion swift and ferocious enough that she cried out.

But her cries turned to moans swiftly enough, and he allowed her to set their rhythm this time – a rare gift – watching with ravenous eyes and doing little more than steady her as she rocked back and forth. One hand wandered the expanse of skin before him, tracing the lines of veins and moving through the miasma of her biomancy as it curled faintly over her skin. His thumb brushed against her wounds as they sealed themselves. Ada had the pleasure of seeing his eyes roll back again, of feeling his body begin to convulse under hers… and all of it through the fresh filter of sensation… of understanding and the relief of her own acceptance.

She leaned forward and latched her teeth into the taut cords of his neck, and that finished him for the second time, Ada grinding herself against him to chase him to the peak. Then she collapsed against him, dizzy and dreamy. For a while she listened to his heart and teased his armour wounds with her fingers, until he broke the silence with a quiet, rumbling laugh.

‘And now, my delight?’

It was obvious what he was asking, and she gave another happy murmur, folding her arms against his chest and resting her chin on top so that she could stare up at him with eyes full of blissful devotion. He leaned back against the steps, seemingly satisfied with only this as his answer. When he dragged a claw along her cheek she felt it in her entire body and he chuckled at the wondrous tremble something so simple drew from her. Then they lapsed into silence, drinking in the quiet serenity around them, broken only by the rippling water and the occasional sigh.

Ada could easily have fallen asleep right there, but once it became obvious that she was teetering on the brink of slumber Marazhai took a firm hold of her and stood, moving them both out of the pool. He set her on her feet, cupping her chin briefly. An eyebrow was raised. Ada didn’t know what was going through his mind until he released his hold on her, his head tilting to one side as though waiting for something. The corner of her mouth tugged as she realised he was waiting to see if her legs would hold her up, and she feigned a swoon, tilting herself backwards until she almost went over. No doubt she would have cracked her head open on the floor, but Marazhai was there in an instant, supporting her with his arm and a hand cupping her damp curls.

‘You will find commanding your forces far easier if you don’t leave your primitive brains scattered across the tiles.’

‘Being able to use my legs properly might help too,’ she said, walking her fingers playfully up his arm.

He chuckled, and once again left her to stand upright, unsupported, for a few moments. When she did not sway again, he fetched a towel, and she found herself cocooned within its softness, then lifted up again and carried to the bedroom. Sat on the edge of the mattress, he dried her from head to foot and then ordered her beneath the sheets. Her movements were somnolent, and she all but collapsed against the dark silk, rolling onto her side with her arms curling around the nearest pillow.

She felt his weight behind her, though he did not touch her.

‘Stay with me,’ she murmured, a dreamy echo of her earlier plea.

‘Of course.’

The response, given so casually, made her fingers curl deep into the cool fabric clutched against her chest. She knew he was only answering in this moment as she felt him slip beneath the sheets to join her. This was not a statement of his intention to remain with her forever, or even indefinitely, as much as she wished it were so. That hurt, especially so in light of her recent revelations and Heinrix’s words, which had cut far too close to the truth. Because as loathe as she was to admit it, there was security in believing he had nowhere else to go… nothing better to rely on for his survival than her favour. She didn’t want to believe that this was the only reason he remained on the ship… and her stomach clenched as she wondered if it was his true and only motive for being there now, in her bed.

If she was to say what was in her heart to him, to speak her feelings aloud, how would he react? Would he laugh? Disdain such sentiment? Even if he gave her the response she desired, would it only be to placate her? To ensure that he was not thrown to the Inquisition or out of the nearest airlock? No, surely he wouldn’t… it would have been beneath him to…

Ahhh, but what if…

A weight fell across her upper body. She felt the pillow being tugged from her grasp and cast aside. And then he was at her back, his long, lithe frame almost completely encompassing hers. A warm breath stirred in her hair, and she felt his chest swell against her back, then a thoughtful rumble in his throat that vibrated through her.

‘Fear… anxiety… such things are for the cattle.’

‘I’m not worried about the siege,’ she insisted, hoping to divert his attention from the true cause of her unease. ‘It’s what comes after.’

‘You fear taking your revenge?’

The suggestion was too absurd not to warrant amusement, and they laughed as one.

‘No, after that.’

‘And what is it that comes after, my delight?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, her tone soft and distant. ‘That’s the problem.’

‘Ahh… the fear of the unknown. A strange and distinct bouquet.’

‘You never felt it?’

A dangerous question with dangerous implications. It would have been unthinkable for her to ask such a thing months ago unless she wanted to provoke his anger. Which, admittedly, she might have been tempted to do. But she was not afraid to ask it now. At least, not of his reaction to the question.

She felt a hot breath against her ear as he scoffed.

‘The unknown is merely one more oblivion to plunge into, unreservedly and without restraint. That is how it ought to be.’

She smiled. It was the kind of answer she ought to have expected from him, avoiding any actual admission of fear while lending his own unique perspective. The only question was whether she would be plunging into that unknown alone or…

Seized by a sudden need she lifted herself up, turning awkwardly on the bed so that she was lying on her stomach but with her face now turned towards him. She was frowning now, though only a little, and made sure to choose her words carefully.

‘I still… suspect that there is more going on.’

‘Suspect?’ he echoed. Even in the near darkness her voidborn eyes could perceive him clearly – the arched eyebrow and the mocking tug at the corner of his pale lips.

‘I know,’ she corrected. With everything Heinrix had told her, everything that she herself had gleaned from her confrontation with Calcazar… all of it melded together into a certainty that filled her gut like a poison that needed to be expelled.

‘And your intentions?’

‘Honestly? Without knowing exactly what it is, I don’t know. But I fully intend to find out. I’m not going to let it slide. I don’t care if he’s the Lord Inquisitor… if he’s using me for something and I find out it’s for something… something I don’t like… then I’m going to want answers.’

‘And will you do whatever it takes to acquire those answers?’

She nodded. ‘I’ll tear them out of him if I have to.’

He shut his eyes and inhaled, no doubt getting a good taste of the frustrated anger she was allowing herself to feel, edged with the bloodthirst he had kindled within her.

‘I will take great pleasure in being there when you do.’

His eyes remained closed, so he didn’t see the smile that curved across her lips at this declaration; the gift of a new certainty that he would be with her a while longer once this was done. If they both survived of course. She tried to keep that joy close, instead letting her frustration fester for a while, affording him plenty of opportunity to savour it. But eventually she let it ebb away, to be replaced by a quiet sense of contentment as she watched him at rest. Not sleeping, no… but perhaps at his most unguarded.

‘What are you looking at?’

The question made her flush – he had not even needed to open his eyes to know that she was staring – but her smile tugged wider at the familiarity of the question. The tone could not have been more different from when it was uttered in the depths of Commorragh, when they had all been living on the edge of a bloodied knife and every moment had felt like its own battle. Back then, his voice had been woven with an ancient, predatory menace and a sense that he was amused at her audacity in staring so blatantly. He hadn’t thought enough of her to be flattered by her attention. It was only natural that a lowly mon-keigh be enraptured by a creature of such towering perfection as himself. He had merely seen the opportunity for some entertainment.

Now, while still not flattered in any sense, there was a warmth to his amusement. And Ada, reaching out to touch her fingers to his bare chest, found her answer had not changed, but that new ardour was also present in her voice.

‘You.’

He opened his eyes, and they stared at each other over the small distance, with Ada wondering if he, like her, was wondering just how strange were the circumstances that had brought them to this moment. They did not speak again. Ada shut her eyes and blindly traced the myriad scars on his chest. She knew them so well by now, both old and new. The weight of him shifted on the bed, the arm that still draped possessively over her waist lifting and resettling so that he could reach around her, his fingers finding their way up to her hair to spin around a stray curl.

She was permitted a few hours of sleep, but it was not an alarm or a vox message that woke her. Instead, it was the feeling of being moved, of covers drawn away and the tickle of breath between her legs. Consciousness came first and slowly, followed by an awareness of exactly what was happening. It seemed her confession had given Marazhai fresh confidence to try this trick again. He teased her out of a dreamless slumber with subtle flicks of his tongue and a feather-light touch that few would have credited to a creature born for brutality. Ada caught herself on the cusp of opening her eyes and in a moment of inspiration held back, keeping herself still but not too still… feigning sleep and not allowing even a sigh or a smile, though both threatened to give her away.

Marazhai, not bound by such restrictions, smirked against her heated flesh as he sensed that she was roused. And when she continued to lie still, he intensified his efforts, eager to be the victor in this new game. One long hand slid up the pale slope of her belly to find her breast. An unbidden hitch of breath as his thumb grazed her nipple made him pause and raise his head. Ada kept her eyes closed, even when he chuckled. When he pressed his lips over the trembling bud of her sex, she came one step closer to losing control… closer still when one set of fingers rolled against her nipple while the others began a wickedly slow penetration of her sex.

It took all the will she could muster to not even tense up, though void take her she was close. She tried to keep it all in her fingers as they curled into the bedsheets beneath her, but her hips twitched as he gave a harder tug on her aching bud. Only a twitch though…

… she did far more than that when he bit her.

‘Ahhh!’

She catapulted upright as though from a nightmare, and he rose over her, his dark, triumphant laughter filling the room.

‘That’s cheating,’ she declared with a pout as he crawled up towards her, his black hair a veil of shadows hanging across his shoulders. A line of crimson decorated his chin, and he licked his glistening lips.

‘I play to win, my delight.’

‘You play dirty,’ she shot back, reaching up and thumbing blood and arousal from his chin as he drew nearer.

Smirking he caught her thumb in his mouth and sucked it clean before she had the chance to. Then he grasped her wrist and pinned it above her head, soon joined by the other. Unable to resist she leaned up and flicked her tongue over his chin as he came within reach. He laughed again and grasped her throat with his free hand, baring his blood-tinted fangs at her.

‘When the stakes are high, we must use all the weapons at our disposal,’ he crooned.

‘I’ll remember that.’

Her simple threat made his smile all the wider. ‘Oh you will… when I am done with you.’

He entered her with a slow and easy thrust, and she allowed herself to believe he was savouring it – what may or may not be the last time they were coupled like this. That was what she did, biting her lip as she stretched around that column of flesh and metal. Her eyes fluttered closed as he settled fully inside, but the hand on her throat squeezed in warning and she opened them again to see him staring down at her with an stormy intensity that was familiar, but that she usually only saw in the oblivion that followed a feast.

‘No…’ he snarled, already beginning to move into her with deep rolls of his hips. ‘I want to see your eyes when you break beneath me.’

The command was spoken with a shuddering urgency that caused her enter body to clench like an iron fist. She did not question, and her eyes remained open, fixed on his with unwavering fervour. As soon as he was certain of her obedience, he released his hold on her wrists and throat, burying his fingers in her hair instead. In turn she wound her arms around him. Soft moans pulsed from her throat as he arched above her, their faces mere inches apart. She could feel the painful crescent of his spine, the way it seemed to ripple beneath her hands as he moved. One palm pressed hard, urging him on deeper, harder, faster. He did all but the last, keeping the slow, savouring cadence. Yet Ada was still breathless. This might have been the nearest they had ever come to simple love-making, but she still felt scorched, carved and torn by every movement, every touch… even by that fierce expression of unceasing desire that she could not look away from.

God-Emperor forgive me… if I am permitted just one heresy in my life, let it be this. Let me keep him… please. I’ll be good in all else… the most loyal and dutiful servant there ever was… just allow me this one sin…

She held him tight, with her whole body and being, and her need must have stirred something in him. For now he did begin to move with a feverish resolve, his grip on her nearly crushing. An aching pressure built, and she felt its reflection in the tense muscles of his back. His head was bent so low towards hers she could almost taste him on the air. Her lips were dry and her tongue lashed over them. She saw him do the same and for one sweet moment she though that he would kiss her… finally…

His lips peeled back, and she felt his spine dip beneath her hand as he arched up and beyond her reach, his hips snapping into hers in a final rush that made her cry out and sink her nails into him. A few more quick spasms and he found his release.

She held onto him for far longer than he would have permitted under any other circumstance. When he finally slipped from within her with a hitching snarl he bent back down to bury his face in the pale curve of her neck, and she felt his tongue and teeth on her sweat-slick skin. Breath after breath he drew in before sliding lower, turning his head to the side and resting his pointed ear against her heart. What a relief that he couldn’t see the flush of surprise and pleasure on her face at this new intimacy. When he continued to hold himself there, she slipped her hands up, threading her fingers through his hair and caressing the sensitive points of his ears until he thrummed with contentment against her.

She let her head fall back against the pillows… and hoped against all hope that there would be a time when she held him like this again.

The interruption was inevitable. It might have come only moments later, or perhaps it was an hour – a distant but intrusive chirp that echoed from the bathing chamber. Marazhai’s expression was thunderous. He looked ready to hurl the infernal device against the nearest wall, and Ada seriously considered asking him to do just that. Alas, she extracted herself from beneath him and went to fetch the vox from the pile of discarded clothing on the tiled floor. The message that came through did not surprise or frighten her, merely filled her with an old, weary determination.

A presence loomed behind her as she shut the device down.

‘It’s time.’

‘Yes.’

There was resolve in Marazhai’s voice too, tinged not with apathy but bloodthirst. Ada hoped that some of it might rub off on her before they made it down to the planet.

‘Come.’

The invitation seemed out of place at such a moment, but she did not refuse. She left the pile of clothes behind, taking only the vox and, from the little dish beside the pool, Edward Callaghan’s dog tags, which found their place around her neck as she followed Marazhai through to her office. His armour had been set out along the steps leading up to her desk. She hadn’t noticed it the night before when passing through, too lost in her thoughts and her eagerness to find him.

Marazhai went ahead of her, and as he ascended the steps he turned and leaned up against the edge of the desk, smirking and with a look of expectation in his gleaming eyes. The smile grew wider when Ada spared a few extra moments to admire him standing there, naked and his skin faintly luminescent in the warm light, but when she took a second too long, he growled.

‘Well?’

Her smile turned enquiring. ‘“Well” what?’

‘You may begin.’

He made no gesture or further elaboration, but there was no need. Ada’s heart did a small leap as she looked down at the carefully set pieces of armour, then back up to his grinning face. She tried not to appear too giddy as she went up the first step towards him.

‘You mean it?’

‘Am I in the habit of saying things I do not mean?’

She made a play of thinking the question over, but his expression began to shift from indulgent to challenging, so she drew in a breath and settled her mind on the task he had given her. It wasn’t easy to balance her excitement at being afforded this honour – Marazhai clearly considered it to be one – with giving it the careful attention it required. She had seen him don his armour many times, listening to him name all the parts in both his language and hers. She knew where to begin, and the wounds where it was embedded provided a useful guide. Her experience with removing his armour would help too, despite usually being done in the flurry of passion, with plenty of tearing, ripping and not a lot of delicacy.

She started with his feet. Fitting. He always liked her on her knees, and they shared a smile as she bent down. She began to work her way up from boots to greaves and then the cuisse on his thighs. Each piece of metal was handled with care, lest the edges slice through her fingers. Over her head she could hear him growling quietly as each barb sank wetly into the already bruising flesh. There was no disapproval in it. Quite the opposite. It was soft and quiet, warm even, though, as she rose up his body, she detected a deeper note of hunger reverberating beneath the surface. She made sure not to hurry, aware that she must not overstimulate his bloodlust and battle-rage just yet.

When she reached his waist, she played coy as she picked up his codpiece, taking her time taunting him until that lustful note began to build towards a crescendo. But her delay did far more than she intended. It revealed something else, and she paused just at the point she was about to slip the armour piece into place.

There was something odd… soft…

That was unexpected enough for her to hesitate. There was nothing soft about Marazhai’s armour. Frowning she turned the codpiece over in her hands, and realised that her fingers, curled lightly around its edge, were resting on a pale, leather lining that she was certain she had not seen before. At least, it looked like leather, not dissimilar to the long length of crudely stitched material that hung from his belt. And that was… well… she had never asked where it came from, but it certainly didn’t come from a grox.

But there was no other lining on any other piece of his armour, she was sure of that. And now that she looked closer, the “leather” was very pale, more so than the rest that was worn so openly.

In fact…

She felt a tingling sensation in one hand. That hand. She looked up into his eyes, and his smile told her everything she needed to know.

‘You didn’t…’

He laughed softly, clearly enjoying her shock.

‘You did!’

‘Fitting is it not?’ He tossed his head and drew in a satisfied breath. ‘I take great pleasure in keeping a small piece of my little pet so… close. It stirs pleasant memories during the dull interludes spent aboard this tub of yours.’

Yes, he certainly looked “stirred”, Ada thought with a blushing glance to his groin. She might have made this joke aloud, but her mind was too busy processing the revelation and trying to gauge the proper response. Her instinctive, human reaction was one of confusion and a heavy dose of disgust. That was the flayed skin of her hand after all. She might have given it to him in the drowsy aftermath of lust, but she hadn’t imagined that he would use it for something like this. And it was probably more than just her hand that made up the lining, she realised as she dared a closer look. She could make out other pieces carefully stitched together with black thread.

How many pieces of her had Marazhai saved from their lessons? And not merely saved… kept close.

As she was growing accustomed to in recent days, she let the idea turn in her head, trying to see it as Marazhai must see it. It was like trying to bring a blurry, telescopic sight into proper focus. His smile, his intense scrutiny of her reaction said a great deal. That he expected her to see it as an honour. A token of his regard. An expression that the memory of that first lesson held some special significance to him.

Seen through the eyes of a Drukhari, would this be seen as… romantic? The equivalent of a knight keeping his lady’s token? She’d read about such things in Cassia’s novels… although compared to those stories this was… was…

‘This is vile,’ she said, holding up the piece. But as she spoke her mouth split into a grin to mirror his, and her cheeks were bright and burning. When he broke out into laughter again, she did the same, putting a hand over her face. To her surprise, there was the sting of tears in the corner of her eyes. She was careful to hold them back when he hooked a claw under her chin and tilted her head until their eyes met. He said nothing, and so she took his cock in one hand and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes roll back as she guided him into the codpiece. The barbs sank into the bruised marks set in the hollows of his groin, and she twisted to ensure they dug in deep, which caused him to thrust his hips forward with a low, hoarse moan. When Ada pulled her hands away, all remained in place.

His eyes were clouded over when they returned to her face, but she moved on now, uncomfortably aware of her emotions threatening to get the best of her. More than anything in the world she wanted to let him have her again – bent over the desk, or back in the warm comfort of her bed. But they had no time left… and she did not want to spoil these final intimacies with outbursts that he would only mock. She must see this through. The intricate and multifaceted breastplate was next, along with the culet on his back, then the lower torso’s plackart. Then the arms – vambrace and pauldrons, then the clawed gauntlets. More than once she nicked herself on an edge, and whenever she did he would catch her wrist and suckle on the cut until it sealed itself. And then she would continue.

The bevor was the last piece of metal to be fitted, and Marazhai had to bend down so that she could secure it properly around his neck, the final barb digging into the nape of his neck. In the instant she felt it catch and hold in place her softly rounded cheek brushed against his sharp one, and she felt a hand, clad in its black gauntlet, press to the small of her back before falling away.

His breath was coming hot and fast as she stepped back to take in her work. To Ada, it seemed as though he was a word or even a simple look away from tearing the entire ensemble off again and pinning her to the floor. She watched him wrestle with his self-control a while before moving back in and placing her hands on his breastplate.

‘Are you pleased with me?’ she asked, her voice a husky whisper.

‘Delighted,’ he crooned, bending his head close to hers again. ‘Now go… make yourself ready.’

The dismissal came in the same purring tone, but Ada still felt a sting at being sent away, even though she did need to get herself ready. With a glance back to him as he fastened his weapons belt in place, she returned to her bed chamber and went to the smaller, locked wardrobe that held her best gear. The armoured bodyglove clung to her like a second skin, intended to favour manoeuvrability over actual protection, although there were carefully placed ceramic lamellar plates to protect her most vital areas, and the mesh-fibre itself would help disperse any impact and minimize damage. She wore her uniform over the top, nothing too ostentatious that might mark her out to an enemy sniper, but enough for her own people to know her. The von Valancius coat of arms was emblazoned on the upper arms, a pale Aquilla lined with threads of gold fanning across her chest. She fastened her well-worn, knee-high boots, then her weapons belt. The bolter pistol went into its holster, then she picked up her customised goggles and her staff.

She was trying to juggle everything while tugging her hair back into a tight ponytail as she made her way back through to Marazhai. She was surprised to see that he was still standing by her desk. He had everything ready, his weapons at his side, his soul trap dangling amidst the chains and smaller knives attached to his belt. He had swept his hair up into its usual style. Now, he seemed to be waiting, but he didn’t come down the steps to meet her. Instead, he once again gestured for her to come closer. Ada almost insisted that they had to go, but something in his eyes told her to humour him.

His smile was that indulgent one she always thrilled to see, though she couldn’t imagine the reason for it. His fingers caught her chin as she came to stand before him.

‘Do you remember our bargain, my delight?’

She frowned and shook her head. He tutted but maintained that easy smirk as he ran a claw along the line of her jaw.

‘I promised you a gift, did I not?’

A memory slipped from the shadows of her mind. Yes, she did remember now. In the rundown village on Quetza Temer, when she’d given him that piece of flayed skin, he’d promised her that if she found out what he did with it, he would give her something in return.

His eyes glinted with amusement as he saw the recollection dawning, and he reached behind him to the desk. His clawed hand came back with a piece of shimmering black velvet, folded around something long and slender, which he rested in his palms and held out towards her. Glancing from him to the offering, Ada wet her lips and pinched two edges between her trembling fingers to draw back the material.

It was a dagger. Clearly of Drukhari design – their weapons were so distinct from any others she had come across in the Expanse. But it was no standard design, certainly not something she had seen or taken as a trophy during her time in Commorragh. It was smaller, for a start, which told her immediately that it had been designed for a human hand. Her hand. Its blade was elegantly jagged on one edge, curving to a wickedly sharp point, and the metal was darker than any standard material used within the Imperium, with a sheen over it like an oil slick. A lush green gem was embedded in the hilt just below the blade, and it seemed to wink at her in the candlelight from its beautifully crafted setting. The handle was bound in soft, somewhat suspicious looking leather, and had a myriad of small studs and metal pieces jutting out from it, so Ada could quite see how she could hold it without something digging into her palm. At the pommel was another green gem, and another sharp point, in case one desired to use that part of the blade as a weapon also.

Ada realised she had stopped breathing for a moment. She also realised that many moments had passed, but she had not said a word. Marazhai did not seem to care. He was watching her face, scrutinising every minute reaction with an obsessive intensity that almost halted her breath again. The air around them felt thick and heavy, so it seemed to Ada that she moved through glue as she finally summoned the nerve to reach out and pick up the dagger.

Marazhai’s lessons in knife play had left their mark. The blade was perfectly balanced, its weight so finely tuned that holding it made it feel like an extension of her arm. The studs and juts in the handle, strangely enough, did nothing to impede her hold. Her fingers seemed to fall into a natural configuration around them, and an easy, flexible grip ensured only the slightest pressure on her palm. Strange how naturally it came to her. In fact, the pattern seemed… familiar, in a way.

Oh yes… very familiar

‘You’re wicked,’ she said with a smile as the realisation sunk in of how perfectly this gift complimented his use for her flayed flesh. ‘So wicked…’

He offered a devilish smile and tilted his head. ‘You boasted of your prowess with my weapon, did you not?’

‘I did,’ she said, her voice distant as she adjusted her grip, testing the versatility of the blade and trying to ignore the vice that seemed to have clamped down on her chest. ‘It’s… beautiful,’ she added at last, when she trusted her voice not to crack under the pressure. ‘Thank you.’

A quiet rumble in his chest. ‘If you wish to express your gratitude, do so by demonstrating just how much you have learned under my unerring watch.’ He reached out and caught a claw against the edge of the dagger as Ada gave it a flourish. It made a silvery, sinister shiiing as they dragged against each other. ‘This blade will serve you well enough on the field of battle… your enemies will die fast as you cleave open their throats… or suffer long after you’ve spilled their insides into their clutching hands. But its true application lies elsewhere.’

He took hold of her chin once again, drawing her attention back to him, while his other hand slipped to cover hers, so that they both held the knife, its edge gleaming like a beacon between them. There was a moment of quiet tension around them, the air filled with the promise of his next words.

‘When next we stand here, my delight, we will have your treacherous kin within our grasp. I shall drag him screaming to your feet so you may bask in his futile pleas for mercy. The hand that once stabbed you with that cursed blade… I will crush it bone by bone. The tongue that gave you insult… I will carve your name into it before severing it from him. And then… oh, I shall take such great satisfaction in witnessing your revenge, every detail just as you once described it to me. Every drop of exquisite pain… every atom of your blood-driven rage…’

His voice fell away, lost in the ecstatic quiver that overtook him as his eyes closed, picturing the vision he had described. Ada gazed up at him, awed by his barely contained excitement and overwhelmed by the freshness of her own feelings. The eagerness for revenge, the bloodthirst Marazhai had nurtured… they were sputtering candles against the inferno of longing for him.

No, not merely longing. Not anymore…

It must have been written all over her face, for when he opened his eyes again, he frowned down at her with that telltale quizzical tilt of the head. There was no anger or disgust in that look. It was as though she had presented him with a puzzle. A new game that he was intrigued to play, but did not yet know the rules for. Ada wondered just how true that might be. She wondered if that was what had made her fear of him leaving so uniquely, unfathomably delicious… and why he had so much trouble discerning it.

Void take her… should she tell him now? Somehow the thought frightened her more than what lay ahead on Eufrates II.

Her eyes fell on the point of the blade, and she leant forward, until her lower lip was pressed against the sharp edge. Tender flesh gave way easily, and she felt a slow, warm trickle over her chin and under her jaw. Marazhai’s pupils, already wide and dark, seemed to engulf his entire eye and he seized her by the ponytail, tugging her up onto her tiptoes. He caught the sliding droplet of crimson as it neared the hollow of her throat and traced its path upwards and upwards. A sigh escaped her lips, and something clenched tight inside her as she heard him echo the sound, his breath caressing her face as he reached the source of the flow. She let her mouth slacken just enough for him to take her lower lip between his. The soft suck he gave in the instant before the cut sealed was so painfully close to a true kiss that she almost sobbed…

She looked up into his eyes as he pulled back.

‘Thank you.’

That was all she could summon. And it was all they had time for. From her belt the vox gave its shrill call. They had delayed too long already, but something of the tension remained between them as they finally set out, side by side. Bound for the shuttle bay. Bound for Eufrates II and the siege that awaited them.

I’ll tell him, she told herself, the thought a solid and sure thing in her heart. Something to give her focus beyond the battle and bloodshed to come. When we stand here next… together… I’ll tell him…

… that I love him.