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“I suspected something like that.” He studied her cautiously. “So who are you?”
“That’s…a long story. It would be easier to show you.” Then, as he watched, change spilled across her face. It wasn’t a big change—largely the color of her hair and eyes. The shape of her nose, the curve of her mouth, the high, proud angle of her cheekbones remained the same.
Yet the instant her hair went to blazing flame red and her eyes a deep violet, a sense of disorientation rolled over him. Rance knew that face. He’d seen it on news documentaries and entertainment simmies so many times, it was branded on his consciousness.
“Zarifa,” he breathed. “You’re Empress Zarifa Lorezo.”
Fury spilled over him in a blazing wave. She’d played him for a fool.
Zarifa knew that look. Recognition. Contempt. She’d seen it so many times on so many faces.
She’d hoped a Freeworlds werewolf wouldn’t be quite so informed about Empire gossip, but apparently she was juicy news even light-years away. So much so that he’d instantly forgotten how she’d kept Casus from torturing him.
“So this was a game after all.” Rance’s voice was cold, distant. His arms dropped from around her. “You were never in any danger.”
Bitter disappointment rolled over her, so intense she itched to slap his arrogant face for it. She rolled off his lap and started gathering her clothes. “I assure you, Mad Dog…” She used the name with a sneer. “…I’m not playing games.”
He didn’t bother to rise as he watched her. “Why would a woman with her own palace guard need the protection of a shifter slave?” It was obvious he thought this was another drunken, scandalous lark, the kind Throneworld’s simmie reporters adored.
The kind Umar regularly ensured she supplied.
“Maybe it’s the palace guard I need protecting from.” Zarifa jerked on her shirt and buttoned it with hands that shook with temper. She should be used to this now. And to a certain extent, she was. An hour ago, it wouldn’t have bothered her to see that look in Rance’s eyes.
But that had been before she’d made love to him. Experienced his breathtaking tenderness. Felt almost as if he’d cared.
Why in the hell did I ruin it? But he’d had to know what they faced, and she’d been afraid if she waited much longer, she’d lose the courage to tell him.
“Your own guards tried to kill you? Why didn’t you tell Umar?” His lip curled when he said the regent’s name.
“Because they do what Umar tells them to do.” His face went so stony with disbelief, she swore and snatched up her pants. “I don’t have the patience for this. Do you want to be free or not?”
Rance blinked, surprise replacing contempt. Didn’t see that coming, did you? Golden eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’d free me? Why?”
Because I know what it’s like to be a slave. Not that he’d believe her. “I need to get back to Throneworld and meet with Kuarc Lorezo.” She jerked her trousers over her hips and buttoned them, then grabbed the nearest boot and sat down on the copilot’s chair to put it on. “I’ve got some information he needs. Your job is to protect me from the regent’s men while I find him.”
Rance rose from the pilot’s chair and stared down at her, big fists braced on his naked hips. “You expect me to believe you want to help the Bastard—when you’re the one he’s rebelling against?”
She jerked the boot on and grabbed its mate. “Umar’s the one he’s rebelling against.”
“And if your brother kills you, Umar’s screwed. His son loses his chance to be emperor, Kuarc takes over, and the first thing he’ll do is order the regent’s execution.”
Was that an expression of actual concern for her on that hard, wolfish face? Probably thinks he’ll die trying to keep me alive. “Kuarc won’t kill me.”
“He can’t afford to do anything else.”
She remembered the laughing older boy she’d adored as a child. “My brother’s not a murderer.” Standing, she stomped to settle the boots on her feet.
Rance watched her, his expression impatient. “There’s a war on, Zafira. Killing’s what war is all about.”
Zarifa bent forward and stared hard into his eyes. “So keep me alive and get me to him, and I’ll emancipate you. I’ll strip the control codes off your nanosystem and issue an imperial decree making you a free man. You can go home to all the other werewolves and forget any of this ever happened. Even kick Casus’s ass on the way home.”
“If you liv
e that long.” His blatant sneer told her he didn’t believe a word out of her mouth.
“You’d better make sure I do. Or you will die a slave.” Unable to take any more, Zarifa turned toward the door. Before she stalked out, she snapped, “Go take a shower. You smell like sex.”
So did she. And she refused to let it hurt.
