by Lea Linnett
The only thing she’d gained was a clear line of sight.
But from here, Niro also had a clear line of sight to her.
She froze as their eyes met. He stared at her, the only clue that he’d noticed anything amiss, and she held her breath until it burned in her chest. He could alert the guards with nothing but a word. He could betray them so easily it made her heart pound.
But he didn’t. Instead, his gaze skittered away, making her sigh with relief, and his companion continued talking without pause. Taz’s jaw clenched, and she wished she could get closer, but all that was left between her and the warehouse was the ground road, and it was way too open for her to cross.
She was just glancing around, sizing up her other options, when the levekk ended his call, and to her surprise, Niro’s voice carried over the road loudly enough for her to understand.
“Mr. Siikas, I really wish you’d warned me before coming. With all of this desert dust, your rooms probably need a once over.”
Siikas.
The smaller levekk waved a hand. “Have one of the humans clean it. And tell her to wait there when she’s finished.”
“Sir…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have her back in with the others before they’re shipped tonight.”
Taz jerked at his words, her legs bunching as her rage coiled tight in her belly like a spring. She might have launched herself over the barrier right there and then if it weren’t for the iron grip on her arm. She whipped around, coming face to face with Kamanek. His eyes were tight, lips pursed, and he looked as angry as she felt, but he shook his head, nevertheless.
“Taz—”
She shrugged him off, pressing a finger to her lips in a quieting gesture.
“Of course, sir,” said Niro, softly enough that Taz had to strain to catch it.
“I want to see how you and Shinik have been handling things as well. A lot of product has gone missing from this warehouse over the last few months. Too much.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s a good location, close to the city. I’d rather fix its security issues than abandon it entirely.” Siikas turned on the spot as he spoke, surveying the quiet buildings that surrounded it, and Kamanek dropped even closer to the ground at her side.
Taz didn’t move, though. She couldn’t move. Her breath felt frozen in her lungs, her feet glued to the floor. Her lips parted around a silent gasp, her wide eyes stinging as the breeze buffeted them.
When Siikas turned, the side of his face became visible in profile. A lot of it was as she’d expected: a cruel smirk, a familiar plated brow jutting out over his features and protecting his nose.
What Taz didn’t expect was the thick, ragged scar that ran down the left side of his face, linking the edge of his plated brow to the line of his jaw, only just barely missing his eye.
She didn’t think about the huge group of guards surrounding the levekk. She didn’t think about the mission, or the humans trapped inside the warehouse. Her mind was a blur of anger and hatred, whittling down to one singular thought.
Taz was going to rip that levekk’s head from his shoulders.
She started to stand, her fists clenched and her body preparing to spring over the barrier and run at him. But she didn’t get very far.
Strong hands wrapped around her waist, yanking her back behind the barrier, and then a large body covered hers. She fought against her attacker, lashing out with her fists, but they had too good of a hold. The body used its considerable weight against her, pinning her torso to the sidewalk before slamming each forearm down to join it. She kicked out with her legs, until stronger ones twined with her own, rendering her effectively motionless.
Kamanek’s face swung into view. “What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed, and he might as well have shouted in her face, his words ringing through her skull.
“That’s him,” she said in a panicked whisper. “That’s the levekk who…”
She was interrupted by one of the guards’ voices, laced with suspicion. “What was that?”
They both froze, their faces scant inches apart, and she could see Kamanek assessing their escape routes, his eyes flicking from her to the barrier and down to the gun strapped to her hip. Claws scraped against the concrete of the yard, and Taz held her breath.
“You ever seen a cat before?” came Niro’s deep rumble, lighter now than she was used to hearing it. “They’re like a tiny, furry sehela. They like to hang out in the alleyways around here. Or it could be a raccoon.”
“A raccoon?”
“Like a cat, but gray and stripy and with little hands like a human.”
There was no reply to that, but the footsteps had paused.
“Why don’t you come inside?” Niro said, before his voice was lost to the grinding of the roller door.
Taz and Kamanek stayed frozen while the door groaned open, their chests fighting each other for the space to inhale. Panic still rushed through her body like a drug, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and yet she still couldn’t help noticing how close they were.
Kamanek’s body was wound around hers in an echo of how they’d held each other only an hour or so earlier, although it felt like days ago to Taz. They were touching from their chests all the way down to their feet, and she was inordinately aware of the strength of the muscles that trapped her arms and the thundering heartbeat that throbbed against her chest. He was straddling one of her legs, every line of him pressed against her, and it was enough to make her breath hitch.
She needed to get away, to go after that levekk, but at the same time she wanted to pull Kamanek closer. She shifted her leg, gasping softly when it brushed his groin and Kamanek’s hold on her tightened. He stared down at her with wide eyes, his once alert, contracted pupils now softening. Heat pooled in Taz, mixing with the leftover anger and desperation, but at least his body seemed to be reacting as inconveniently as her own, his cock stiffening against her as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
The roller door groaned to a halt, the metal snapping as it slammed shut, and they both paused to listen. There was nothing. No footsteps, no humming of a transport. Just nothing.
Kamanek gingerly unwound them, lifting himself up on his arms to peer over the barrier, and Taz tried not to notice his hard length straining against his trousers. He was the one who’d said they were over. She was supposed to be angry at him, not lusting after him.
“They’re gone,” he said, and Taz sat up, cursing herself as she slid out from under him.
What was she doing? How could she sit here enjoying the feel of Kamanek’s body against hers when the humans in there were at the mercy of Siikas? Of him.
“We need to get in there,” she said, scrambling to her knees.
“We need to go get Deeno and Cara,” Kamanek countered, and when he looked at her, his eyes were dark and stormy with something she couldn’t name. “We need backup. If we go in there alone, Siikas will have us strung up in no time.”
“Did you not hear what they were saying about that human? We have to get in there now and find her and get her away from that slimy asshole. I’m gonna make him regret ever setting foot on Earth.”
“I know how you feel—”
“You don’t know how I feel,” she spat, pushing at his hard chest as they knelt behind the barrier, out of sight of the warehouse’s cameras.
He snatched her wrist. “What do you mean? What is going on?”
“He’s the one.” She leaned in, imploring him with her eyes. “He’s the one that attacked Cara all those years ago. That tried to…” She shook her head. “I never knew his name, but I’d know that scar anywhere. I gave that to him with my knife—this fucking knife,” she said, pulling her favorite blade from its sheath in her boot. “And I’m gonna give him a dozen more before I’m finished.”
“Don’t you think Cara ought to know if you’re getting revenge? Don’t you think she’d want to know? To help?” Kamanek asked, still holding her wrist. She couldn
’t shake him loose even if she tried, and the strength she’d admired only moments earlier now frustrated her.
But his words gave her pause, because of course Cara would want to be involved.
“Right. Yeah, you’re right. I—Then please, we have to go now.”
“We will,” he said, squeezing her wrist. “Come on.”
27
The door had barely shut behind them when Taz blurted out, “Did you guys see what happened?”
Deeno was on his feet, his hand halfway to his gun, and Cara’s head snapped up from where she’d been staring out the window. “We saw,” she said.
Taz was shamefully aware of Kamanek as he stepped around her, and she didn’t miss the way Deeno’s eyes followed him, narrowing slightly. “That was Siikas,” Kamanek said, ignoring the cicarian. “It seems like he showed up unannounced to investigate Niro’s missing shipments.”
Cara’s lips pursed. For a moment, Taz thought she would bring up what had happened earlier, but instead she sighed. “That’s wonderfully convenient.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“Nothing. Yet. You two were down there?”
Taz crossed her arms. “Yes. We could hear them talking.”
“And Niro knew we could hear them talking,” Kamanek said in a low voice.
“Really?” Cara looked between them, her eyes widening. “That’s interesting.”
“I still don’t think we should be trusting him,” said Taz. “He might just want to get the four of us at once.”
Cara’s brow furrowed, but whatever she might have said was interrupted by a low buzzing in her pocket. She pulled out her comm, swiping at it with her thumb, and then her eyes widened.
“It’s from Niro.”
“You’re kidding.”
“It says, ‘Siikas brought security. Data too protected. Humans to be shipped tonight—move quick.’” She looked up. “He wants us to get the humans…”
“But leave the data,” Deeno finished for her.
“We can’t do that,” Taz argued, stepping forward. “It’s the whole reason we’re here. We started this because we wanted to stop Siikas’ business completely, not just stall it. Saving this batch of humans is just a temporary fix.”
“You saw the security Siikas brought,” Kamanek murmured.
“Unfortunately, the levekk is right,” Cara said. “If Niro thinks it’s too hot in there for him to get the job done, I’m not sure we can argue. But if there’s still a chance to get the humans out, then I think we should take it.”
“You don’t understand,” Taz snapped, frustration boiling up within her like lava. “I saw Siikas’ face when we were down there, Cara. He’s…”
The words stuck in her throat, threatening to retreat back down into the roiling mass of anger and fear that was her stomach as Cara turned a questioning gaze on her. “He’s what?”
“He’s the levekk from before. When you and I worked at Kalan’s?” She bit her lip. “He’s the one who…”
The effect on Cara was immediate. Her jaw slackened, her brown eyes turning distant. Her hands, once cradling her comm in a relaxed grip in her lap, turned pale and clawed, and a single tendon stood up in sharp relief on her neck.
“He had the scar,” Taz added, running her fingers absently over her own scarred cheek. “And I’d remember his face anywhere.”
“Y-you’re sure?”
“Yes. We have to get in there and find him,” she said. “He’s right there. Right under our noses. You remember what I promised you, back then?” She’d promised to kill him, and she was as ready now as she’d been in that darkened hub, watching him run out with his face bleeding.
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” Deeno said, when Cara gave no reply. He frowned at her in obvious concern. “I know what this means to you two. Really, Cara, I do. But it’s foolhardy. We have a chance of helping those humans down there, but if we go barreling off into enemy territory without even Niro for support, we’ll be leaving them unprotected. We might make things worse.”
Cara was silent for a long moment, blinking rapidly. Taz hated to see her like this, and she hated that the anguish she felt was Taz’s fault, but she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t tell her.
“We’ll focus on the humans,” Cara finally said. “And only the humans. Nothing good will come of chasing after revenge or trying to bite off more than we can chew. They need us.”
Taz’s heart sank. “But—”
“Please, Taz. It’s for the best.”
But it couldn’t be. How could they let Siikas get away with everything he’d done? How could they let him go on and find more humans to hurt?
“What about you?” she said, fully aware that she was sounding desperate as she turned to Kamanek. “You know Siikas. You know what he’s done. More than anyone.”
The levekk stared at her, his whole bearing almost preternaturally still. He had that same calm that he’d had when they’d staked out the brothel over a week earlier. The same calm he’d used when sitting at the window.
He glanced at Cara. They shared a long look over Taz’s shoulder that she couldn’t read, and it made her stomach turn over.
“Cara’s right,” Kamanek said in a low voice, drawing her attention again, and she couldn’t look away now. His dark gaze held her like a vise, squeezing the breath from her lungs. “We should stick to the safest bet.”
“What?” The word slipped from Taz’s lips unbidden, and she realized that, somehow, she’d been relying on his support even more than she cared to admit. “How can you say that? You know what he’s like. And before we even came to Sek Vorek you said that cutting his operation down at the root was the best thing to do.”
Kamanek’s lips parted, something flickering in his gaze, but it disappeared just as quickly. “It’s not my place to question my orders.”
It was then that it all made sense to Taz. She stared up at him, unable to believe how stupid she’d been.
“It really was just about the credits,” she whispered, and the tight clench of his jaw as he looked away only confirmed her suspicions.
Cara had been right all along.
Taz was barely aware of the other three confirming their plans for later that night as she backed away and sat herself on the cot. They would wait for Niro’s signal, then drive the truck Kamanek and Cara had found to the loading bay. Once they had the humans, they would head towards one of Niro’s safehouses on the outskirts of the city. He’d given them the coordinates earlier that day.
Taz heard it all, but she didn’t hear it.
It was the credits, when it all came down to it. It was why Kamanek had helped her, why he’d come to find her earlier, and it was why he wasn’t supporting her now. His paycheck was dependent on Cara’s goodwill, so her word was law.
It was stupid of her to think he might stand by her in the end. The touches, the warmth, the persistent need to be closer to her—it was all just sex. She’d known just from talking to him that he didn’t do love—he didn’t care about others—but that hadn’t stopped her from hoping. Hoping that she could be different. That the care he showed for the humans was more than just professional concern.
She’d never felt so embarrassed. So stupid. It ate her up inside.
But she had a mission to complete. Gulping down the nausea, she forced the fear and shame to curdle into something safer. The anger rolled through her; anger at Siikas, anger at Cara for not wanting the revenge that she so clearly deserved. Anger at Kamanek for… everything.
And as they prepared to move out, gathering their things and checking their weapons, Taz did so with purpose. She knew what she had to do.
Even if she had to do it alone.
28
Kamanek wished he could explain his decision to Taz, but she avoided him as they prepared for the mission and split up. Taz and Cara went to wait in one of the alleyways down below, while he and Deeno went to fetch the truck.
He knew already that
the sick feeling in his stomach was bad news. It wasn’t the usual twinge of guilt he felt when saying goodbye to a partner. No, it threaded far deeper, twisting his insides and making him feel nauseous as the hover transport jerked into the air. Beside him, Deeno seemed not to notice, the jumpy cicarian looking as focused and intent on their mission as Kamanek wished he could be.
He hated hurting her. That anger that had excited him two weeks ago made his skin crawl now, and he wished he could smooth it away and apologize. It had taken everything he had to tell her he’d leave, and to support Cara’s decision. But he knew that if Taz asked him to help her again, he wouldn’t be able to refuse. Not after feeling the consequences firsthand.
The only thing that kept him from giving in was the memory of Siikas’ cruelty.
He’d once been ordered by Siikas to retrieve a debtor and his family. The cicarian had owed more credits than a Constellation soldier could earn in a year, and Kamanek knew his punishment would be severe. Still, he’d found him, despite it making him sick to his stomach.
He’d watched from the back of the room, packed tight between ten or so tight-lipped mercenaries, as the cicarian’s partner tried to throw herself in front of him at Siikas’ feet. They’d both been tortured, and Kamanek refused to let the same happen to Taz because of his connection to her. He wouldn’t let her love for him be her downfall.
So, he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself when they reunited outside the loading bay door. Taz made that easy, refusing to even acknowledge him as he jumped down from the tall truck. He knew she’d never accept his explanation, anyway. She’d say she could handle herself, that she could take Siikas down without help. Maybe she could—but not with the tight security he tended to keep around him at all times.
But there was no sign of that security now. The transports were still parked outside, only feet away from where they now stood, but they were empty. According to Niro, the cameras dotting the corners of the building had been set on a loop earlier that evening, feeding the image of a quiet and empty yard back to the security screens in the center of the compound, and it was true that their presence hadn’t triggered any alarms, as far as Kamanek could see.