by Layla Nash
Wyzak tensed. There was some other story there, some other reason that Gemma’s voice softened and her gaze went far away. She’d learned hard lessons in her life if the metal arm was any indicator, though it remained to be seen what mistakes she’d repeated that caused her pain. He took his glass back so she wouldn’t be tempted to drown her sorrows in liquor. If he was going to take her to the gym and work through her anger—as well as his own—then she needed to stay on her feet.
He couldn’t afford the sympathy that crawled up his chest and made him want to drag her into his lap to hold close, to protect. Wyzak hardened his hearts against the urge. She wasn’t his mate. She wasn’t even his female, despite the temptation of her soft lips and softer body.
Violet tapped her nails against her teeth as she studied the other Earther. “You’re probably right. I wouldn’t trust these guys to keep their eyes on the prize for much longer than a standard month. Plus they’re a bit…overconfident when it comes to their capabilities.”
“Overconfident?” Faros growled and gripped the back of Violet’s neck in a playful if irritated way. “Female, we are Xaravians. If anything, we are modest in the assessment of our fighting prowess.”
She and Gemma snorted at the same time. Wyzak, Faros, and Harzt all sat up, indignant, and growled in irritation.
Violet sighed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling, as if searching for patience above. “I misspoke. Your confidence is well-placed, Faros.”
The captain grumbled, only slightly mollified. But he continued squeezing Violet’s neck and shoulder, as if to remind her he was there, as he watched Gemma with more than a little ire. “So we must deal with the small crews first, and plan to confront any large crews if they come our way in the future. Or perhaps...” His head tilted as he studied the bounty hunter, and a slow smile spread across his face.
Wyzak didn’t like that look. That look always spelled trouble. “What are you thinking?”
“Perhaps we place a spy on one of the large crews, or in one of the ports where all the crews gather, to keep an eye on who is looking to come after us.” Faros’s smile grew toothy. “Perhaps Gemma can take her skills and assets to a bar on the spaceport, and she can listen in on who is planning what, then report it to us.”
“And why would I do that?” Gemma asked.
“Because I told you to,” Faros said. “And since I assume you don’t want to die, it would benefit you to do what I say.”
Wyzak didn’t quite swallow his growl in time, drawing dark looks from his brother warriors. Gemma folded her arms over her chest as she eyed the pirate captain. “You said if I helped with this ridiculous plan that I would be released in a neutral port. At no point did I sign up for working for you long-term. I’m not a snitch and I sure as gravity wouldn’t agree to report on what the crews are doing to a bunch of bounties.”
She pushed her chair back and stood, remaining remarkably steady on her feet despite how much liquor she’d put away, and braced herself on the table. “There’s a way to warn off most of the crews. You’ll just have to take your chances with the larger groups as the price of doing business. You did whatever it was that made the Tyboli offer up that size bounty, so this was coming your direction regardless.”
Violet made a thoughtful noise as she caught Faros’s hand and cut him off from speaking. “We’ll discuss what makes the most sense, Gemma. We can reconvene in a few hours to finalize the plan. We don’t have much time to take action without losing the believability of the Tyboli attack on your ship.”
Gemma frowned but inclined her head, not taking her attention off Violet. If Wyzak hadn’t known better, he would have suspected the females believed themselves to be the decision-makers in the room. He suspected Faros had the same thought as the captain looked between the Earthers and started scowling. Wyzak didn’t know when it happened exactly, but they’d completely lost control of the Sraibur.
The bounty hunter straightened and picked up a piece of the pie that Violet had ordered, then turned on her heel to head for the door. “Very well. I’m looking forward to putting all of you behind me in the very near future, so the sooner we get this done, the better.”
Wyzak rose to stand next to her, unwilling to let her wander around the Sraibur on her own. He wanted to get behind her, as well, though probably not in the same way she meant. “Back to your quarters.”
She shot him a sideways look and slid through the door. “We’ll see.”
He growled, distracted by her scent as she brushed past him, and followed her into the corridor to put an end to the Earther’s attitude. He had a score to settle, and since it looked as though she would soon be off the ship, there was no better time to settle it than that moment.
Chapter 21
Gemma
Gemma’s knees wobbled more than a little as she walked out of the dining room, rethinking the wisdom of slamming more of that terrible liquor. But there was something about being in a room with Wyzak and the rest of the pirates that made her nerves tense and stole away her good sense. She shoved her hands in her pockets, almost tearing the left one out in her distraction, and meandered down the corridor in the search for something to do that didn’t result in her locked up in a small room with Wyzak or any of the Xaravians.
Wyzak prowled along behind her, periodically making irritated noises, and frayed her nerves even more. What was pissing him off? So she’d pointed out that he’d been a fool over her breasts; it wasn’t like that was a surprise after the way he’d been hauled off by her and Milo. And it sure as hell wasn’t a surprise to Violet after she found the two of them kissing in the brig. Tension crawled up Gemma’s spine as they passed another crewmember and Wyzak snarled in warning. She jumped out of the way, bracing against the wall, and stared at him in alarm.
But it was the other Xaravian who made himself scarce, ducking and saluting Wyzak before scampering out of the way. Wyzak caught her arm in a firm grip and dragged her along the corridor, still muttering and grumbling. Gemma set her heels. “Where are you taking me?”
He didn’t answer, though his muscles tensed and his scales turned a curious combination of blue-violet and red. Gemma dangled from his grip, surprised at his strength, and tried to pry his hand loose. “Seriously, I don’t know what your problem is, but—”
“My problem,” he said, his eyes flashing silver as the growl deepened and gained an edge, “is you continuing to make light of the way our paths crossed.”
She blinked as he opened an unmarked door on the corridor and dragged her into a gym. One other crewmember was in there, pushing weights around, but he took one look at Wyzak and immediately disappeared without a word. Gemma tried to duck out of Wyzak’s grip. “I told them what happened, because it has a bearing on how the rest of your crew could be duped into—”
“Duped,” he said. He shook her until her teeth rattled, then set her on her feet. “You’re doing it again. I was not duped.”
“You mean you deliberately took the tranqs I put in your drink?” Gemma scowled and tried to take a fighting stance, despite that he still held her arm and his scales rattled in warning. She’d just about had enough of stupid male posturing. “Come on, man. I tricked you. It was deliberate. It works all the time; every male in the universe falls for a pretty girl in a bar paying attention to him and acting half interested in—”
He growled more and backed her up to the wall, his chest broad and iron-hard against hers. His face dipped until his nose brushed hers, and his voice lowered in warning. “It works every time? You’ve used that ploy to trick other males?”
Gemma’s heart beat unevenly. She didn’t know what the hell was going on. What was his problem? Was he... offended that she’d tricked other bounties into cooperating by the promise of a free drink and a long look at her tits? She gulped for air as her skin tingled where his rough scales created the most pleasant friction. “Of course. It’s far easier for me to get close to a mark than Milo, so I was the one who—”
“Sad
excuse for a male,” Wyzak spat, every inch of him disgusted. “Putting his female in danger just because it was easier.”
His female? Gemma hardened her heart as it threatened to crack. “You don’t get to judge him. You didn’t even know him!”
“I knew enough,” Wyzak said. He released her so suddenly that Gemma almost slid down to the wall to sit on the floor, though she managed to catch a weight rack to steady herself. The Xaravian paced away, his back to her, though he glanced back in irritation. “I saw enough that he sent you in to interrogate me. He sent you to retrieve me from the bar and walk me to wherever you finally knocked me out. You were left to confront the Tyboli on your own. You were the one who stood against Faros and my crew when they arrived to free me. What was he doing, other than letting you take all the risk yourself?”
“You don’t know anything,” she said. Her hands clenched into fists and the metal fingers bent one of the heavy weight bars. She wanted to hurt him in a sudden rush, wanted to beat on him until Wyzak begged for mercy. She wasn’t prone to violence, but after what he said about Milo... Her partner hadn’t been perfect—she was under no illusions about that—but he’d deserved more than the end he met. “I took the risk because it was my choice to take that risk. And you’ve got no right to jump in and talk about me being protected from anything. It’s not your business. It will never be your business.”
“It is,” he snarled. He whirled to face her, his own fists clenching, and glared until every inch of her caught fire. “You are a female. You have no scales to protect you. You should be protected. Shielded. He failed to do so. He did not deserve you.”
Gemma’s throat closed on regrets and grief and choked off the rage that nearly consumed her. “You…you shouldn’t judge him. You’re the worst kind of hypocrite. You’d send me off on some mission for months on end, spying on bounty hunters, just to make your life easier, and you act like that’s different from what you claim he did.”
“That was Faros’s idea,” Wyzak said. He flexed his shoulders and began to stretch. “That will not happen.”
Her eyes narrowed. Since when did Wyzak get a vote in how the plan was going to sort itself out? That was between her and Faros, although... when she’d wanted more to drink, the captain looked to Wyzak for whether to refill her glass. What was going on, then? What did the Xaravians think was going on?
Gemma concentrated on keeping her balance, instead of immediately taking a swing at Wyzak to get even for the bullshit he’d said about Milo and her work. “Just because I don’t have scales doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself. Obviously.” And she waved her left arm around to remind him she was part machine.
Wyzak watched her as he prowled the edges of the room. Instead he repeated himself slowly, as if the problem was her understanding instead of the ridiculousness of his words. “You are a female. You should be protected.”
“I can protect myself,” she said, clenching her hands into fists. “Which is more than I can say for you.”
His expression darkened into a thundercloud and he jerked his chin at a small boxing ring set up in the back of the gym. “Then prove it, female.”
Gemma wished she could growl and snarl like the Xaravian did, but instead she stormed to the boxing ring and ducked through the ropes. She didn’t know what his problem was, but she’d had enough of being bossed around by a pirate. At least she could take some of her frustration out on him, the big hulking brute of a barbarian. Such antiquated ideas about gender determining worth and status...
She clenched her jaw and raised her fists, wanting to hurt him. “Let’s go. Square up.”
He wrapped cloths around his knuckles, circling her in the ring, and growled in irritation. “I have been wanting to even the score from the moment I woke up on your ship.”
“Then prepare to get knocked on your ass,” she said.
She’d never been much of a boxer, not after losing her arm, but she had fury and energy on her side, helped along by the liquor and a distinct lack of concern for her own personal safety. She threw technique out the window and launched at Wyzak before he even took a stance. Gemma landed a few solid blows before she spun out of his reach, refusing to gloat when the pirate grunted at the impact of her left fist.
“That was for Milo,” she said.
Wyzak dodged her next series of blows, then swung back—though he pulled his punch at the last moment and only clipped her chin. “That was for the tranquilizers.”
Gemma worked her jaw and raised her fists to shield her face. She ducked another lazy swing, and used a sweeping kick to knock his legs out from under him and send him crashing to the canvas. Wyzak jumped up quickly and used his momentum to crowd her to the edge of the ring, his weight sending her into the ropes until she bounced off and stumbled smack into his chest. The Xaravian planted another half-strength smack on the back of her shoulder. “You’ll have to try harder.”
Gemma gritted her teeth and tried to focus despite the conflicting thoughts fogging her brain. She wanted to hurt him and not at the same time. She wanted him to apologize for what he said about Milo, even if some of it was true. She wanted him to admit she’d tricked him in the bar, even though she was ashamed she’d done it in the first place. She wanted him to know that he was wrong about everything and had underestimated and misjudged her, even though... even though she lacked the confidence to demand it.
What if he was right? What if she was defenseless and helpless and just faking it? What if the only thing powerful about her was the thing she despised the most—her mech arm?
Her vision blurred and a wild punch went wide, throwing her off balance. Her breath hitched and Wyzak stepped back, his eyes narrowed. Gemma straightened her shoulders and glared at him. “What’s your problem?”
The Xaravian remained silent, watching her, and Gemma ducked her head so he wouldn’t see her expression. She didn’t want or need his pity. He’d claimed to be angry with her, to want vengeance. He hadn’t acted like it, at least not until he dragged her out of the dining room and through the corridors, but that wasn’t her problem. They sparred without making contact for far too long, and Gemma’s breathing grew labored. She hadn’t worked out nearly enough in the previous few months on the Memphis. Or maybe it was the liquor.
Or maybe it was the knot of tears working its way up her throat.
Every time she managed to get a hit on Wyzak, her thoughts twisted viciously to claim it as payback for what he said about Milo. And then she struggled with her partner’s death, the unanswered betrayal. She didn’t even know where his body was, nor what would be done with him—she couldn’t have said whether Milo wanted a ceremony or any words said over his body before it was launched into a star, but she wanted something to mark his passing.
And Wyzak was the cause of all of it. It was his kidnapping that went wrong and caused Milo’s death, caused the destruction of the Memphis, caused Gemma’s imprisonment with the Xaravians and her current predicament. The tears worked their way into her sinuses until they burned and she had to shake her head to clear it.
As hard as she tried to hurt him, Wyzak weathered every blow and almost made himself available for more, until her fists connected with him at every turn. Not that he noticed, of course. He absorbed every hit and braced for more, all the while sending lazy hooks her direction that she easily dodged. She staggered back, needing to breathe, and tried to muster as much hate as she could.
But Wyzak waited, still frowning at her. Gemma’s breath caught in her throat and she managed to say, “I hate you. You can go straight to the center of a black hole. I’d send you there myself if I could.”
“More,” he said.
She didn’t know if he meant punches or insults, so she went with the easier choice while still convincing her legs to hold her up. “You pirates insult Milo for how we worked as a team, but you’re even worse—you want to send me off like a sacrificial lamb. Faros threatened me with death if I didn’t cooperate. My life is over and none of you care
. You’re just trying to figure out how to use me to advance your own ends. Hypocrites and criminals, all of you.”
“Tell me more,” he said, taking a step toward her.
Wary, Gemma sidestepped but kept up the bitter words. Once she’d opened the floodgates, she couldn’t seem to stop. “It doesn’t matter what I tell the bounty hunter teams. I’ll never be able to find a new crew. I’m bad luck now. Tainted. Even worse than before.”
Her stomach twisted and it grew harder to breathe, almost impossible to speak. And Wyzak kept stalking her around the ring, though he didn’t take a swing or attempt to hit her. “Bad luck. Tainted. That’s you.”
If he only knew... Gemma stumbled in her retreat. “It’s bad enough I’m not…not human enough for most of them. Bad enough I’ve got this and everyone knows it.” The metal of her arm flashed under the bright lights of the gym, almost enough to distract her. Wyzak loomed larger and she barely jumped out of reach in time to avoid his lazy grab. “It’s bad enough they all treat me like a meched-up weirdo and illegal cyborg, but you…you act like I’m completely helpless. I don’t know which is worse.”
She hiccupped on a sob and the last words, since she knew which cut worse. Being less than human, less than whole... that weighed more heavily on her. It kept her awake at night and distracted her on missions. Every time they took a new bounty or turned someone over, everyone noted the arm and wondered where she came from and what crimes she’d committed to lose it. She just wanted to feel normal again. To feel complete.
And it would never happen. Ever. She thought she’d gotten close, working with Milo, but in the end... he wanted to use her arm to intimidate bounties into cooperating, to impress potential employers when they took new jobs. He’d never really seen past the arm, or so she feared. And now... now she could never ask him. Could never find out for certain whether he’d wanted to work with her because of Gemma, or because of the arm.