"Linnea Sinclair - Gambit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sinclair Linnea)

Jhen-Aris's voice brought her back to the present.
"So you come to T'Sri space now, for revenge? For the loss of some people you've
known only three years?"
"You could look at it that way." She stared up at the ceiling.
"But not with a workable plan. You were far from any T'Sri colonies. Even if your
engine hadn't malfunctioned, it would have taken you weeks. You wouldn't be able
to destroy even one of their scout ships, let alone Pajtok. Their defense grid
would've targeted you."
"I know."
"You know nothing, Ty'mara Moran."
She looked at him, surprised by the gruffness she heard. But more so by the pain. It
sounded personal.
He ran one hand over his face then met her gaze.
"You're far too young to consider suicide." The incongruous softness in Jhen-Aris's
voice was back. And this time was accompanied by an unexpected vulnerability in
his expression. "And you have far too much to offer."
He leaned one elbow on his knee, started to reach towards her, then stopped. He
clenched his fingers and drew back.
A small lump of emotion formed in Ty's throat. She was back in the fighter bay
again, standing on the Zeta's wing. She could see Jhen-Aris in the doorway, the
powerful, lethal sonic rifle in his arms. He could have killed her. Killed the witch.
But it was set then, as it was set now, only for stun.
She remembered his security crew moving to her left and right. In their hands had
been the boxy shapes of stunners. Not laser pistols, like the first two guards.
Stunners.
They could have carried laser pistols. They could have killed her. Killed the witch.
But, on their captain's orders-- ones she had overheard but not understood--they'd
carried only stunners.
Jhen-Aris unwrapped the rifle strap from his shoulder. The weapon clanked softly
against the floor. A jug of water and a glass were on the bedside table, and he filled
the glass to halfway. "You need to get some liquid into you. Come. This will help."
She pushed herself up and the small cabin started to spin. Then she felt Jhen-Aris's
arm around her back. The edge of the bed dipped as he sat on it and he pulled her
against him.
The water was cool and tasted wonderful. She drank some more, his hand on hers,
helping her steady the glass.
"I wasn't trying to commit suicide." She cradled the half-empty glass against her
chest. The back of her head rested comfortably against his shoulder. She felt his
breath against her hair as he looked down at her. But she stared straight ahead. The
dim shadows of the cabin were easier to deal with than his unsettling presence. His
disconcerting and illogical kindness.
She fought a brief urge to probe his emotions. But she was too tired to sense
anything. And afraid of what she might learn if she could. "My people would never
ask that of anyone. The Elders don't even know I'm here. This was something a
small group of us decided had to be tried. I agreed, because of the Rachella. And
because, well, I can do things Fy'ella and the others can't."
"Like kill? I thought Lifari couldn't kill."
"You learn to, when you've seen what I've seen. Besides, I'm only half-Lifarian."
"And that's why you were in T'Sri space?"
She pulled away from him and for a moment regretted losing the solid warmth of his