Her Cold-Blooded Mercenary

by Lea Linnett

  “Where did you learn to be so charming?” the levekk said, and she could hear the smug grin in his voice as he entered the alleyway fully, shutting the door to the warehouse behind him.

  “You know what? I think I learned it from your people. Being on the receiving end of assholery all your life can kind of make you an asshole,” she spat, crushing a can beneath her boot.

  “Oh, so you know you’re an asshole. That’s good.”

  “Really makes us two peas in a pod then, doesn’t it?” She took another well-aimed kick at a crate, sending it tumbling down the alley a ways, and in the ensuing silence, she turned back to Kamanek. “Why don’t you just take your fucking money and go? Your job’s over.”

  But Kamanek’s eyes danced, his grin widening as he leaned back against the wall. “Mila’s got more work for me, remember? Juicy credits, all for me.”

  She bared her teeth in a grimace, turning bodily away from the infuriating alien. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

  The levekk wasn’t finished, though. “It’s a shame you’re on probation again,” he said, more subdued. “I was hoping we’d get to work together again.”

  Taz paused, thrown by his tone. She’d braced herself for more ribbing, but when she looked back at him, his expression was sincere, his smile dimmed. Staring down at the trash at her feet, warped and cracked and crushed, Taz suddenly found herself without an enemy to fight, and she felt the anger hollow out of her all at once.

  “You agree with me, don’t you?” she asked after a furious, silent debate with herself. “That taking out the local operations is a waste when the assholes in Sek Vorek can just get their stock from elsewhere?”

  “Completely,” Kamanek said, with a more serious nod than she’d been expecting. “Going after the small fry is a waste of resources. Plus, it just pushes the problem onto somebody else.” He shrugged. “Which admittedly isn’t unheard of in my line of work.”

  “We shouldn’t be like that,” Taz said, kicking a can with less vehemence than before. “We’re supposed to be helping sub-species. All sub-species. Not just the convenient ones.”

  “You can see where she’s coming from, can’t you? It is outside your territory, after all.”

  Taz growled under her breath at that. She liked Mila—she would even call her a friend—and of course she could see that the logistics of it were difficult. But Mila had gotten too caught up in logistics. She only saw the Lodestars as an organization, her mind taken up with concerns about money and recruits and reputation.

  But the Lodestars weren’t an organization. They were rebels. They were meant to be the grass-roots pioneers, the guiding star that marked the way for their fellows within the levekk’s ‘Constellation.’

  If they couldn’t hustle enough to make something like this work, then what good were they? No one else was going to help the humans trapped in Sek Vorek if they didn’t.

  Taz knew what she had to do. She had to go to Sek Vorek. She had to take down these kidnapping pieces of shit—even if she had to go alone. “Mila’s lost sight of what we’re supposed to be doing,” she said, mostly to herself. “And if she won’t go help them, then I will.”

  “Won’t you need back up?”

  Taz blinked at the levekk, expecting a snide remark. “What?”

  “If it’s a big operation, it might be too big for one person. You might need them,” he added, hiking a clawed thumb over his shoulder at the warehouse.

  Taz scowled. “Then I’ll ask when it comes to that. When I have real evidence and a solid target, she’ll listen. I’ll just have to hope she forgives me for it.”

  The levekk nodded. “Nice plan. You ever been to Sek Vorek?”

  A ripple of tension ran through her, her hackles rising. “No. Have you?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t talk me out of it, lizard.”

  Kamanek laughed at that, his teeth (which were smaller than hers, she noticed) catching the meager dawn light. “I’m not. I’ve just heard that the capital is pretty thick with levekk, and low on humans.”

  She frowned. “How do you know that?”

  His grin turned cheeky. “Why do you think I avoided it and came here? It wasn’t for the cool weather.”

  Taz’s lip curled. “You’re disgusting.”

  Kamanek nodded as if that wasn’t news, but sobered nonetheless. “My point, though, was that I could go with you. Watch your back. We could come up with a cover story to make your presence less noticeable.”

  Taz backed up. She knew exactly what humans in the pleasure quarters were supposed to look like, and what kind of cover story he’d suggest. “What, you wanna leash me, too?” she snarled. “I’m not going to play at being your fucking pet!”

  “Not what I’m suggesting,” the levekk soothed, holding his hands up placatingly. “You could play at being my bodyguard, though. Like today? I’m pretty good at playing the idiot, and you look threatening enough, for a human.”

  That pulled Taz up short, even as she gritted her teeth. The mercenary was surprisingly good at acting, she had to admit. And he’d shown by the way he’d handled the cicarian that he was comfortable becoming the muscle when she needed it. It would be useful to have someone to help get information for her.

  “What’s the catch?” she asked.

  “A kiss?”

  “Fuck off—”

  “I’m joking.” He caught her by the arm with his clawed hand, and she couldn’t escape the shiver his touch sent through her before she jerked away.

  The levekk paused, his pupils fattening briefly like elastic as he looked her over, but he didn’t reach for her again.

  “There’s no catch,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed working with you. You might say we’ve got good chemistry.”

  She hated how her heart rate doubled at his words, at the sly grin that wormed onto his face as he watched her reaction.

  “Plus, it sounds more interesting than whatever your friends have planned for me,” he added with a shrug.

  “That’s not a good enough reason,” she said, willing herself to calm. “You realize you’d be going against Mila’s orders, right?”

  “My last orders were that I’m on standby, and before that, it was babysitting you.” He leveled her with a conspiratorial grin. “And if I’m following you, then I’m just doing what a Lodestar told me to do.”

  “What about your precious credits?” she asked, frowning up at him.

  “I don’t—” He paused, considering her, and then started again. “Mila’s first payment should come through tonight,” he said with a shrug, his eyes darting away. “And like I said, I’m blaming you for spiriting me away.”

  Taz stepped away from the levekk, circling the edges of the alleyway as she mulled over her options. Kamanek was right; he’d almost certainly be a help in Sek Vorek, where humans were less common than in New Chicago and even more lacking in social capital.

  She knew the rumors. She knew that it was rare to see a human there who didn’t have a levekk at their side or a brothel tag somewhere on their person, a symbol of protection as much as slavery. Traveling the capital as a bodyguard, and not just as a lone human, would make her job a lot easier.

  But she didn’t trust the levekk who was now watching her as she paced. He was a levekk, and a mercenary, and she’d be an idiot not to see the brazen interest he had in her.

  The logical part of her brain screamed for her to refuse him. It was stupid, to agree to go alone with him to a strange city, especially when he’d beaten her so soundly in combat just one day earlier. He could prove to be as dangerous as the city itself.

  Her instincts, on the other hand, cautiously disagreed. So far, he’d done little more than tease her, even when they were alone. And he’d been surprisingly helpful on their mission. He’d even helped soothe Samantha’s bruises.

  Taz didn’t trust him. Not one bit. But he was her one chance of helping the humans trapped in Sek Vorek. It was worth the risk, for what they could accomplish.
Besides, she could look after herself. She was prepared now.

  “If we do this, don’t expect anything,” she warned, fingering the knife at her belt. “If you try anything, I won’t hesitate to gut you.”

  The levekk raised his hands. “I wouldn’t dare compromise my bodyguard in such a way,” he said, winking. “I leave my safety in your capable hands.”

  Taz gave him a long look, before deciding that was probably as good of an assurance as she was going to get. She nodded at him. “Okay, pack your shit up, then. We leave before breakfast.”

  She felt a strange sense of gratitude when Kamanek returned the nod, a pleased grin on his face, and she tamped it down. She didn’t owe him anything. This wasn’t nearly enough to make up for his gross behavior or the turmoil his people had plunged her planet into.

  But it felt nice for someone to finally be on her side. Even if he was the last person she’d ever expected to find there.

  7

  Kamanek could see from the look on Taz’s face that she was already regretting bringing him along.

  They sat in a cramped and crowded public transport on their way to Sek Vorek, and Kamanek was jammed up against the window. Taz had pushed him there, obviously unwilling to be trapped between him and the wall, but Kamanek didn’t mind. Even though she’d perched on the edge of the seat with one leg thrust out into the aisle, the seat was narrow enough that he could still feel her fascinating body heat against his thigh.

  There were scant inches between them, but he didn’t cross them. They were surrounded by sub-species, and Taz kept glancing around as if terrified their fellow passengers would realize that she and Kamanek were here together. It would be cruel to push past her boundaries now.

  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her.

  “So, what do you do for fun?” he asked, twisting in the seat to look at her better.

  She leaned away from him slightly, her glare suspicious but not outright hostile. “Think up colorful ways of taking out assholes like you,” she grumbled.

  “See, that sounds like what you do for work.”

  “They’re one and the same.”

  “You don’t have a hobby?”

  She turned to look at him, her furry little eyebrows making some strange angles that Kamanek was pretty sure marked disbelief. “You think I have time for hobbies?”

  “I don’t see why not,” he countered. “Most of your people in that warehouse don’t seem particularly busy.”

  Taz’s lips curled into a snarl at that, and she looked about ready to throw a punch at him, but it got her to turn more fully his way, and he enjoyed how she moved in closer to hiss at him.

  It was a little strange how quickly he’d become a glutton for her attention—any attention. Her anger was rapidly becoming comforting, her rare smiles shot through him like lightning, and when her face flushed with that red heat? Oof.

  “Those people do more for anyone than you ever have,” she said, only staying this side of quiet. “So don’t you dare judge them.”

  Her anger rolled off her in waves, the heat almost physical in a way that was thrilling to him.

  “I’m only making a suggestion,” he said, his voice automatically dropping into something huskier, and he lit up at the way it made her thick eyelashes flutter. He’d rarely thought hair could be so appealing, but humans had it in the most delicate places. He leaned in, studying the flitting strands as he added, “Dark times can be lightened with a distraction or two.”

  He hadn’t actually meant that line lasciviously, but she took it that way nonetheless, her face coloring a little. There it was again, that soft pink that transformed her face. It suited her. Especially when she thumped him with her elbow, shoving him towards the window.

  “Do you ever stop being disgusting?”

  “You’re going to begrudge a male his own hobby? Kind of rude,” he said, playing at being hurt.

  Taz looked as if she wanted to tut with disgust and be done with it, but her gaze wandered back to him curiously. “What does that mean?”

  Kamanek grinned. “It means my greatest pleasure is… other people’s pleasure, I suppose you could say.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she said far too loudly, “Sex is your hobby?” She glanced around, finally noticing the stares that had long been glued to their conversation, and clamped her mouth shut.

  “I’d call myself an enthusiast,” he joked, and then held up his left hand with its sanded down claws. “You think I’d bother with all this on a whim?”

  Taz was still gaping at him, her deeply tanned skin now almost unrecognizable beneath the red. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she muttered.

  “What, humans don’t have sex for pleasure?”

  She looked at him sidelong, mouth turned down in irritation as her eyes burned like embers. “It’s not that. But it’s also not a freakin’ hobby to them. They have more important things to be worrying about, like surviving. Like working out how they’ll feed the children forced on them by assholes with… hobbies like yours.”

  His brow plate dipped, the implication stinging. “I thought we established that I’m not interested in forcing anyone.”

  “You seemed pretty at home in the brothel,” she said, barely above a whisper. “You think those girls want it?”

  “I think they treat what goes on there like what it is: a job. A job that I can try to make a bit more enjoyable for them. At least they get something out of it.”

  “And we’re back to money. Some people have principles, you know.”

  He sighed. “Do you ever relax? There’s more to life than The Cause, y’know?”

  Taz’s eyes blazed, the burning embers suddenly flaring bright as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “Because I don’t get the luxury of forgetting that shit,” she snapped. “I don’t get to leave at the end of my missions and go back to a happy life where everything turns out okay for me!”

  Kamanek wasn’t sure why that knife in particular finally nicked him, but it pulled him up short. Being levekk had hardly gifted him the ‘happy life’ she was so convinced he’d led, and he wanted to tell her so, even if he knew she wouldn’t listen.

  But maybe she was right. Maybe he had been lucky, compared to the humans she’d grown up around. If so, he pitied them more than he could say.

  The warring voices left him conflicted, so he did what he always did when faced with a question he couldn’t answer. He leaned in close to the human, a smile smoothing over his face, and brushed the tip of his de-clawed index finger across her knuckles where no one around them could see. “Remember, if you ever want to relieve some of that tension, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

  She didn’t punch him, but it was a near thing. Her fist jerked, shaking off his touch, and she slid away until she was barely seated on the hard bench-seat. He sat back, watching as Taz sent a thunderous look at the passengers surrounding them, whose inquisitive gazes quickly scattered.

  Kamanek thought they were done, but then the human turned for one last jab. “I should have left you in New Chicago.”

  He huffed out a laugh, turning his gaze toward the desert as it sped by below them. She was probably right.

  Joining her on this ‘mission’ was reckless—he still couldn’t quite believe he’d suggested it. The Lodestars were the first client he’d found in weeks that weren’t poisoned against him before he even arrived, and he was already risking their good favor. He’d even lied about Mila’s payment, of which he hadn’t yet seen a single credit. His behavior worried him, and it only worried him more when his wristlet buzzed, and his first reaction was to command it to be silent.

  Taz glanced over, her dark eyes searching him, and he shrugged. “I’ll leave Mila to you,” he said quietly.

  Something flickered in her face, and that was why he’d agreed to this, he realized. There was something about this human, something hidden behind all the layers of anger she wore on her sleeve, that intrigued him more than anything he�
��d encountered before. She was beautiful, but tough; wild, but driven. Nothing like what he’d expected humans to be.

  She was a firecracker waiting to go off, and all he wanted was to be there when the sparks flew.

  8

  The levekk turned blissfully silent as they neared Sek Vorek. His lewd comments dried up, and he kept his hands to himself, and while Taz still found the quiet unnerving compared to his usual bearing, she couldn’t be more thankful. It wasn’t just because it gave her a chance to push aside the strange thrill she felt whenever they argued, or the prickling feeling that his fingers had left behind on her hand. She needed all of her wits about her.

  Because Sek Vorek was nothing like New Chicago. There was no dome here—at least, not currently. Taz had heard that one appeared for the duration of each winter, running from the single spire that rose up in the center of the city to the ground-level ring of levekk metal that surrounded it. It enclosed the entire city, fighting off the chill of the open desert.

  But right now, there was no need for such technology. She could feel the heat of the sun’s rays bouncing off her exposed skin when she disembarked, and the trousers, boots, and light jacket that she’d needed in New Chicago soon turned stifling. The desert wind offered no relief, whipping dry and uncomfortable against her cheeks.

  The city itself was also vastly different. Where New Chicago was built on the bones of an old human city from before the Invasion, Sek Vorek was pure levekk. There had once been a human city here, but it was destroyed during the Invasion, leaving nothing behind. That meant every building was constructed from dark levekk metal that soaked up the sun, and rather than the narrow, insular constructions from up north that were designed to keep the heat in, these towers looked more like trees. Their levels spread out like limbs and branches, fanning out from the top so that every level had open vistas and a view of the sun. Transports whizzed around them at every height, some of them never actually touching the ground.

  Because the ground was where the sub-species lived.