Free Exile by Julia Barrett

inner vision, to track his own blood. For a brief time, he’d tasted the power she possessed and he wanted more. If he controlled her, no one could stand against him. Not the Empress, not the Ruling Council, not the Provincial Governors. He would be unstoppable.
    If he had her, this daughter of his, he could harness her power for himself and breed her to the men he chose, begin his own genetic program; establish his own dynasty from the sons he would insist she produce.
    Yes. The more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed. He’d acted precipitously in thinking to kill the entire Royal Family. Better to use them.
    And if this one died? Well, didn’t he have two more daughters? Perhaps he should focus on them. They might prove to be easier targets and he might even catch this Aja if he threatened her sisters. He understood enough about the Blood now to know that she would see what he did. If he held her sisters she would know and she would come to their rescue.
    No, his ancestors made a terrible mistake in giving power to the weaker sex. Only men were worthy. What the hells were they thinking?
    “General?” His com buzzed.
    “Yes?”
    “What heading are we ordered to?”
    The general thought for a moment. He would sell his soul and the soul of every man alive for the Sight right now. “Return to the capital.”
    “Yes sir.” The com clicked off.
    Yes sir, indeed, Bom thought, my soul and the soul of every man, woman and child in the Empire for the Sight.

Daughters of Persephone

    F rom the navigator’s seat, Davi groaned. “Why isn’t he sick?” he asked, pointing down the companionway after Kyr.
    Aja turned around to look at the poor man, his meal all over him. “Because he’s had my Blood. Don’t feel bad, Mr. Fedd. Most people get sick at these speeds. My vestibular system is different. Motion sickness was bred out of my line long ago. Rapid course changes don’t bother me.”
    Aja flashed the ship away from the Pikes and clicked on the auto-nav, punching in new coordinates. She unstrapped herself, stood and stretched.
    “I am sorry,” she said. “Let me help you get cleaned up and I’ll make us something bland to eat. That should settle your stomach.”
    “Thanks, but no thanks,” replied Davi. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get myself cleaned up and I’ll join you in the galley directly. What about your ankle?” He released his safety harness and pushed himself up onto wobbling legs.
    Aja glanced down at her bloody foot. She’d forgotten all about it. Kyr had cut deep.
    She pulled up her trousers. Now that she saw the torn flesh, the wound hurt. She’d have to use the ultra-violet unit before she could heal it. Her immune system could handle most bugs, but it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
    Aja watched the man weave his way toward his cabin. She hurried to the galley to get cleaning supplies. She wanted to get her leg disinfected and the cockpit washed clean before Kyr returned to the controls. She could close her mind to the stench and pilot for a time, but this wasn’t her ship and she felt responsible for the mess.
    She found Kyr in the galley, heating up a pot of soup. He’d already rinsed some snowberries and opened a vacuum sealed container of dryebread and set the rounds on the table. To Aja’s surprise, Kyr was humming.

    Kyr glanced up as Aja entered the galley. He shot her a wicked grin, one that he knew damn well she could feel all the way to her toes. Surprise showed on her face as he headed straight for her, lifting her by the waist with both hands and setting her down on the end of a heavy wooden countertop. Kyr spread her legs and he stepped between them, pressing his erection against her. Aja’s eyes opened wide. She began to protest that she had cleaning to do.
    “Shut up,” Kyr said, as he dropped his mouth to hers. He nibbled Aja’s lower lip and she opened for him. Whimpering, she wrapped her arms around his