by Lolita Lopez
The mere mention of Ella’s name sent heat rolling through his stomach. The white-hot sensation streaked into his chest and gripped him by the balls. He swallowed hard and tried to muster some control over his body. She’s too good for you. You can’t have her.
Even as he tried to convince himself to let it go, Ella’s smiling face flashed before his eyes. His heart fluttered wildly as her silly belly laugh echoed in his ears. He remembered following her out to the beach that first night of their stay at the Blue Shores luxury resort where Venom and Dizzy spent their short honeymoon. He had been worried about the locals bothering the famous muse so he had shadowed her out to the water’s edge and watched her enjoy a night swim.
When she had emerged from the warm ocean, her soft, wet skin awash in the silvery glow of her planet’s three moons, he had lost the ability to breathe. In all his life, he had never been affected by any woman like that—not even his former mate who had been a devastatingly beautiful pureblooded Harcos female. His unwanted reaction to Ella had unsettled him. He didn’t need that sort of complication in his life. He couldn’t have her and there was no use dwelling on the what-ifs.
Raze kept his face an emotionless canvas. “Is this retaliation for helping us?”
“No, we’ve received word from our man inside the secret police that there’s a raid planned tonight on a fundraising party that Ella is hosting for the shelter she’s trying to build.”
There wasn’t much that surprised him these days but this one did. “They’re going to raid a fundraiser?”
“It’s not about the fundraiser. It’s about the guest list,” Torment explained. “The New Dawn party is one of the sponsors of the fundraiser. The people likely to help fund Ella’s shelter and attend that party are the same people that the government wants silenced ahead of the elections. It’s in our best interests to prevent the capture of Ella and Hopper.”
“The pirate radio stations have been very rowdy lately,” Cipher interjected. “After Dizzy opened my eyes to their existence, I’ve kept an ear on them. They don’t sugarcoat the truth.”
“No, they don’t,” Torment agreed. “That woman? The Mouth from the South? She tells it like it is and isn’t afraid to expose both sides of the political debate as hypocrites and crooks. Now that the Red Feather is hosting these illicit paper parties—”
“What?” Raze asked, confused.
“They get together and drop thousands of flyers filled with real information, not government propaganda, all around the villages and The City,” Torment clarified. “They’re making people ask questions—the wrong questions as far as the establishment is concerned—and they’re all at risk of being rounded up and put away.”
“Put away where?”
Torment hesitated. “We’ve confirmed the existence of massive work camps in the mountain regions of the planet. Our ground-penetrating radar also confirms the mass graves Dankirk and other assets had reported as unverified but strongly believed rumors.”
Aghast, Raze clenched his jaw. “What the hell is going on down there?”
“It’s a young civilization trying to work through the growing pains,” Torment said rather blithely. “To be perfectly blunt, I don’t much care what they do down there as long as it doesn’t impact our mission. The fact is—we need the pro-Harcos New Dawn party to win, and women like Ella and Hopper and this mouthy pirate radio DJ are the keys to that victory.”
Raze hadn’t always had the kindest thoughts toward the people on Calyx, but it didn’t sit well with him that his own government simply viewed them as expendable game pieces to be moved around an invisible board in whatever way benefited the Harcos most. “What’s the mission look like?”
“We’ll let the raid occur so we don’t raise any suspicions about our informant. Then we intercept en-route to their central processing station for criminals. We have to time it just right. If Ella and Hopper make it to the work camps, we’ll never see them again.”
“If they even take them that far,” Cipher remarked. “It might be better for the government’s long-term needs to simply slaughter everyone they capture and dump them on the side of the road as a message.”
A painful squeezing sensation gripped Raze’s chest. He refused to even consider that Ella or Hopper might be killed. “We’ll need all the intel we can get—and I want clearance from Vicious for our part in this. He’ll agree with you about honoring our debt to Hopper and protecting Ella because of what she means to Dizzy. Even with clearance, this will be a strictly volunteer mission. I’m not forcing any man to go.”
“With the chance to rescue Ella?” Torment snorted. “After the stampede she caused on the arrivals deck before Venom’s wedding, I don’t think you’ll have a problem getting volunteers for this one. Once she’s up here, there’s no going back for her—and the men will know that. They’ll all want a chance to be her hero and the chance for something more.”
An invisible fist twisted Raze’s stomach. A surge of jealousy forced him to clench his jaws and squelch the growl that threatened to escape his throat. One word blared in his brain. Mine.
But she wasn’t his and could never be his.
Raze glanced at Cipher. “Pull the terrain specs and any other intel we’ll need for mission planning.”
“On it, boss.” Cipher left the room with a determined step.
Looking at Torment, Raze said, “Get clearance and find us a combat pilot. We’ll need to be in Calyx airspace by nightfall.”
“I’ve already got one in mind.”
Thinking of his earlier conversation with Cipher, he asked, “Zephyr?”
Torment’s expression hardened. “No.”
“Oh.” The man’s clipped reply told Raze everything he needed to know. Torment still hadn’t forgiven Zephyr for the Terror incident.
“I’ve already asked Swift and he’s agreed.”
Now it was Raze’s turn to look pissed. “I don’t like him.”
“I don’t either, but he’s a skilled pilot. There’s a very short list for missions like these and three of the men I would ask are unavailable. Zeph hasn’t been cleared. Blaze is away on the training exercise at the Arctis, and Hazard is still stuck on long-range transports. So, it’s Swift or no one.”
Raze didn’t like it, but he grudgingly admitted the man was an extremely capable pilot. “Fine.”
“I’d like to come with you.”
“We’re happy to have you.” Raze wouldn’t turn down the offer of another highly-skilled operative. The more the merrier in situations like this.
After Torment left, Raze made quick notes about his inventory progress before heading for their mission prep room. Already, the men of the Alpha team were gathering to plan their stealth assault. His gaze flicked around the room, pausing on each man and silently appraising them. Guilt shook him as he realized what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop himself. He mentally catalogued each man on his team and wondered which one might gain Ella’s affection.
Annoyed by his moment of weakness, Raze silently berated himself. The men of SRU were good men who deserved the same chance at happiness he had once squandered. If there was a possibility one of them might be Ella’s hero, so be it.
Pushing down his improper feelings toward the sweet, gentle muse, Raze entered the room and took charge of the meeting. There was no use dwelling on things that could never be. With the secret shame that had ruined his first marriage, Raze was nobody’s hero.
Chapter Two
Her hand held high, Ella deftly avoided a collision with a dancing couple and managed not to spill any of her drink. Thrilled by her show of skill, she gave a little fist pump. Score!
The ingredients for the yummy cocktail had cost her a pretty penny, and she hated the idea of missing out on even one tiny drop of the boozy goodness sloshing around in her cup. With the upcoming election, the vice squads were cracking down hard around The City and intercepting nearly all the alcohol shipments. The continuing blockade of her backwards little plane
t by the Harcos, those ruthlessly powerful sky warriors hovering above the mesosphere in their massive warships, meant illegal moonshine smuggled in from the outlying villages was quickly becoming a profitable sideline.
A wise investment in one of the stills out near Harper’s Well had started to pay returns. Ella had never been happier to dabble in some illicit earning, especially now that her fledgling shelter for homeless girls was quickly becoming a reality. She had finally secured the land and only needed to raise enough funds start construction. Because of her connections to the illegal stills, she had been able to get her hands on enough moonshine and wine to keep the mixing booth fully stocked and busy for this fundraising party at Subterranean, the underground hotspot her friend claimed as her own.
Flashes of green and yellow light lit up the teeming dance floor in the cavernous dance club. Weaving her way through the throng of pulsing bodies packed into the abandoned subway tunnel, Ella took a sip of her drink and relished the sweet, bright bite of the alcohol. She didn’t often indulge, but a girl’s birthday was a good enough reason. Swatting away the tiny voice that insisted she was simply trying to forget about the best friend she missed more than anything and the profound loneliness of her empty apartment, Ella gulped down more of her drink and kept moving forward.
Standing atop a stack of crates, Hopper, the hostess of the night’s festivities, used a handheld amplifier to introduce the next band over the raucous noise of the crowd. Her wildly-streaked hair thrashed around her head as she danced to the music in that awkward yet so outrageously adorable way of hers. For someone who had survived such a miserably bleak childhood, Hopper had somehow managed to hold onto the youthful optimism and zest for life that so many street kids had lost somewhere along the way.
Tonight, she sported bright pink and sunrise orange splashes of color adorning her blonde hair. The very public act of defiance could get her snapped up by the government goons trolling The City, but Hopper showed no fear. Her undisputed place among the street people as one of their beloved leaders and her knowledge of the abandoned tunnels beneath the crumbling metropolis where even the secret police didn’t dare venture provided her with the sort of protection that couldn’t be bought.
Ella both marveled at and envied Hopper’s youthful innocence. Her own childhood on the streets had been harder and harsher than the one Hopper had survived, mostly due to the consequences of bad choices. Unlike Hopper who still clung to the idea that people were basically good and that love wasn’t a fantastic myth, Ella accepted the reality of the world they inhabited. Love was for suckers, and most people were assholes.
When Ella pushed her way through a wall of bodies, a rough male hand snatched hers and dragged her forcefully to the right. Gasping, Ella gripped her drink tighter as some of the precious liquid inside sloshed onto her skin. She tried to kick out at the shadowed assailant. Her kick was neatly blocked and an arm slipped around her waist, hauling her tightly to a male chest. Lips brushed her ear, and Ella stiffened. “Get your hands off me!”
“Calm down, wildcat! It’s me.”
The familiar rasp of her old friend Dankirk’s voice slowed her racing heart, but the rude touch pissed her off. Throwing back her elbow, she whacked him right in the gut. A satisfying grunt met her ears, and he loosened his hold on her but didn’t let go of her fingers. She let him lead her out of the crowd and into one of the alcoves near the entrance of a crumbling tunnel. Farther back, she could hear the muffled sounds of a young couple engaged in rather amorous activities. Danny glanced back at the couple and then tugged her along to a different spot where they wouldn’t have to listen to all that groaning.
Glaring, Ella shook off his grip. “Is there a reason you’re skulking around this party like some slave-snatching creeper?”
“Well, hello to you too, little sister.” Ever the protector, Danny slid into a shielding position, putting his body between hers and the crowd. His mouth slanted with a grin. “You think I’d miss my favorite girl’s birthday?”
She snorted. “Oh, I guess I’ve moved up a spot since Naya got her fairytale ending with Mr. Big and Scary up there?”
Danny’s gaze flicked upward, as if looking toward space where their friend Naya now lived with her sky warrior husband Menace. She didn’t miss the flash of regret and pain that crossed his normally unreadable face. His unrequited love for the dark-eyed beauty was no secret to anyone in their once tight-knit group of homeless kids. The glimpse of pain vanished a second later, and he gave a careless shrug. “I’m happy for her. Besides, it’s one less member of our family that I have to swoop in to save. She’s got a strong man to keep her safe.”
Ella licked the trail of spilled alcohol from her wrist and the back of her hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The Red Feather fixer smirked. “Not gonna waste a drop, huh?”
His country boy drawl reminded her of easier, simpler times like the summer their pack of orphaned friends—their hobbled together family—had camped in the forest. Those weeks of pure bliss were some of the happiest memories of her life. Plenty of food, lots of clean water and no threat of being kidnapped or worse. It had seemed like their very own version of heaven. But all good things came to an end…
“I paid a lot for this.”
“So I heard.” His mouth settled into a grim line. “Moonshine, Ella? Really? You think that’s a safe investment?”
“It’s good money.”
“You already make good money as a muse.”
“The thing about money is that you can never have enough of it.”
“I wouldn’t know about that.” He actually turned his empty pockets inside out. “I seem to do just fine without it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then I guess I’ll cross you off my list of possible donors.”
He snorted. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble meeting your fundraising goals after this shindig. Of course, you’re risking twelve months in one of the work camps up north for simply attending this party. I shudder to think what they’d give the woman who organized it.”
Playing coy, she asked, “Have you met her? I’d love to tell her thanks for the fabulous night.”
“It’s not a game, Ella. Those work camps—”
“That don’t exist,” she cut in with a look.
“That the government says don’t exist,” he retorted. “They’re as real as I am—and they’re worse than fucking hell, Ella.”
Not wanting to talk about the rumored work camps, she sipped her drink and ran her appraising gaze over him, taking in his tired face and thinner frame. “You need to eat more, Danny. And sleep, too.”
“Not enough time in my days for sleep and food,” he countered. “The elections are almost here. I’m so busy I forget what day it is most of the time.”
“If you’re that busy, I’m sure you didn’t come here to celebrate and have fun with me,” she remarked, sensing something bad had brought him to her.
“This isn’t about fun, sweet pea.” Danny reached under the lapel of the thin, faded jacket he wore everywhere and retrieved a rolled-up magazine. Without letting her get a look at it, her friend whacked the top of her head.
“Ow!” She yelped and rubbed her stinging scalp. “What the hell, Danny?”
He rolled his eyes and flipped open the magazine. “Spare me the melodrama, Ella. Now what is this?”
Her gaze fell to the two-page spread. Although her stomach lurched at the sight of herself so scantily clad and posed provocatively, she feigned nonchalance. “It’s a picture.”
“Of you,” Danny said and slapped the glossy photo. “In your fucking underwear!”
Taken aback by his outburst, she snatched the magazine away from him and smacked him with it. “It’s lingerie—and it’s classy.”
“It’s illegal, Elladee!” Stepping closer, her adopted big brother hissed angrily. “They will arrest you for this!”
“Now you’re being melodramatic. The censors know all about this magazine and th
e pictures inside it. They turn a blind eye to it.”
“They did,” he countered. “It’s changing out there. Whatever progress The City has made in the last eight years is coming to an end with this new election.”
“The vote is four months away, Danny. It’s too soon to know which side will win.”
“The government always wins, Ella. There’s no way New Dawn has any chance of putting their candidates in office. That’s a fact.”
“And you know that, how?”
“The war is coming.” Danny shook his head and glanced out over the dancing crowd. “No, that’s not true. The war is already here.”
She heard the exhaustion in his voice and ached for him. What had started as simple political dissidence with the secret group called the Red Feather had morphed into something much more dangerous for Danny. He was known as a fixer because there was seemingly no situation he couldn’t fix for the right price. Now that he was an asset for the Shadow Force—the silent, secret soldiers of the Harcos—his life had no doubt grown very complicated.
“All this?” He gestured around him with a waving finger. “It’s all gone if the Splinters gain more of a foothold in the villages surrounding us. Harper’s Well and Willow’s Tears are teeming with those terrorist assholes. Only Blue Shores and Connor’s Run have kept them out, but they’ve always been communities that wanted nothing to do with The City or the government here anyway. The last thing they want is a new overlord.”
Ella thought of the recent spate of violence on their planet and the brazen Splinter attacks launched against the Harcos military contingent deployed to their corner of the galaxy. The two factions of the Harcos race had been engaged in a deadly civil war for decades, but the war had settled into a deadlocked period that neither side seemed able to break free from and win.