She nipped the flesh of his arm before looking up. “Yes, you should, now that I think about it.”
He smiled and the happiness in his eyes brought a sudden wave of guilt and pain to her chest.
What would he do when he found out about her mission?
Kill you dead.
Her throat suddenly dry, she pushed that thought away. What she was doing to him was wrong, but she couldn’t begin to pull out now. It would mean her life and those of her siblings if she did.
Yet as she lay here, she was beginning to believe that anything could happen and maybe, just maybe, she could get through all this without hurting him anymore.
Maybe I can help him . . .
After all, he was innocent and, as a seax, she owed it to him to help set him free. You make that sound so easy. She knew it wouldn’t be. But she had to find some way to help him. He deserved it.
She didn’t know how. Yet. But someway, somehow, she would figure it out.
She hoped.
He frowned at her. “What are you thinking?”
“What do you mean?” she answered evasively.
“You just looked so serious all of a sudden. I was wondering why.”
“Oh.” She laid her head back on his shoulder while she prepared the lie she needed. “I was just thinking about my brother and sisters. I’ve never gone this long without talking to them before.” Well, it was only a partial lie. She really was worried about them.
He finished off the wine before he spoke again. “It must be nice.”
“What? Worrying about my lunatic siblings and the trouble they might get into without me?” She’d never thought of that as being particularly pleasant.
He set the empty glass on the bedside table. “Having someone worry about you when you’re gone. Knowing that if something happened to you, they’d actually grieve and not be waiting on the will to be read.”
A lump settled in her throat as she thought about the loneliness that made up his life. Then again, she was usually lonely even with her family crowded around because they didn’t see the real her. They only saw their older sister.
To them she was above being a person. Her only role was to help them when they needed it—to comfort their tears and encourage them when life kicked them in the backside. It never dawned on her sisters that she might need help. That she didn’t like being alone and responsible all the time. And while Caillen was better about that than they were, he still leaned on her like a son.
That made her wonder which kind of loneliness was worse. Or maybe the answer was neither one. Both came with their own sets of problems and aches.
Syn rolled over and reached to the nightstand. He picked up a hand remote to turn out the lights. “Thank you for a great night, Shahara,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Now I have to get some sleep or I’ll be even more worthless tomorrow.”
“You’re not worthless, Syn,” she said, but he was already sound asleep.
She lay in the shelter of his arms and listened to his slow, even breathing. As she closed her eyes, she let her thoughts drift to the past and to all the times she’d dreamed of having a moment like this. A man she could trust who would hold her without causing her pain. Never in her wildest imaginings had she dreamed the man who finally held her would be a wanted convict with a past so violent that it made a mockery of any horror story she’d ever heard.
Yet here they were and to her complete amazement, she’d never felt safer.
Yeah, life was weird and it was wrong, but tonight . . .
Tonight, with his arms around her and his breath tickling her naked skin, everything seemed right.
Syn came awake with a start, senses alert. Shahara rolled over and draped a long, luscious leg over his thighs, making him instantly hard as her breasts pressed against his arm. Her intimate touch distracted him until he heard another sound.
Someone was outside his office, fumbling with the lock sequence. That succeeded in making the blood rush back to his head.
Extracting himself from Shahara without waking her, he reached for his pants and pulled them on. He opened the small drawer in his nightstand and pulled out a blaster, then he went to check on his intruder.
Like the rat people called him, he moved across the floor silently until he pressed the controls for the door. It shot up and showed him a startled friend.
Caillen stood on the other side with a perplexed frown. “What are you doing?” He motioned to the blaster in Syn’s hand. “Going to war?”
Syn lowered his blaster. “I didn’t know who was scratching around outside my door. It sounded like someone I might want to shoot.”
“Yeah, I guess you can never be too careful. But jeez, Syn, you gotta learn to relax.” He came in and started looking around.
Syn frowned at his actions. There was an odd aura surrounding him—one he’d never seen before. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Caillen was nervous. “Something wrong?”
“Yeah. Shahara’s missing without notice. Kase was the last to see her and she said she was with you. I didn’t believe her until I found your jacket in Shay’s house. You got something you need to tell me?”
Syn’s blood ran cold. I am so screwed. How was he going to explain this to Caillen? The man was going to explode, especially if he found out she was naked in his bedroom.
He turned around and put the blaster down on the counter as he tried to think of something that wouldn’t get his ass kicked by one of his best friends. “Yeah, I was with her.” When he faced Caillen again, a deep scowl lined Caillen’s brow.
“What happened to your back? You get clawed by a lorina again?”
Syn watched the recognition dawn on Caillen’s face. Rage contorted his features an instant before Caillen rushed to the bedroom.
“I can explain,” Syn said, following after him.
After opening the door, Caillen just stood in the doorway, his face completely white.
Syn looked from Caillen to Shahara who was still sleeping with her back to them. And though the sheets covered her body, they were draped in such a way that anyone could tell she was naked.
“You bastard!” Caillen shouted an instant before he turned and shoved Syn back.
“It’s not what you think.”
Actually it was, but—
Caillen caught him with a right hook to his left cheek. Caught off guard, Syn stumbled back, his face stinging from the blow.
When Caillen pulled back for another punch, Syn caught his arm and wrenched it behind his back. “Damn it, listen to me.”
“I’m going to kill you, you worthless piece of shit!” Caillen shouted. “You hear me, filch? I’m going to rip your heart out and shove it down your throat!”
Shahara sat up in bed, holding the sheet to cover her body. Her senses dazed, she scowled at Syn. “What are you doing? Let Caillen go.”
Without thinking, Syn obeyed. Caillen swung around and knocked him to the floor, then sat down on his chest. Syn blocked his punches, but couldn’t dislodge his weight.
“Stop it!” Shahara came off the bed and caught Caillen by his ear. She pulled him to his feet.
He cursed but, to Syn’s complete shock, didn’t hit her for the hold. “Let go, I’m not a child.”
“Then stop acting like one.” She continued holding him by the ear until she’d dragged him a safe distance away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
His face black, Caillen ground out between clenched teeth, “I’m going to kill him for raping you.”
Shahara started at his assumption. Looking at Syn who was now on his feet, she saw the hurt on his face. “He didn’t rape me, you goon. Gah, are you totally stupid?” She let go of his ear.
Caillen turned to face her in stunned disbelief. “You mean you slept with him? By choice?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I did.”
Even more rage darkened his brow and Shahara wondered at its source.
“How could you do such a thing,
Trisa? How could you crawl into bed with a common filch?” He looked her up and down as if she were unclean. “How could you ever willingly spread your legs for a convict? My God, I thought you were better than that.”
His lip curled in disgust, Caillen gave one last disparaging glare at Syn then quit the room.
Shahara started to go after her brother, but one look at Syn, and all thoughts of comforting Caillen vanished. He looked like a lost child—bewildered and wounded. Suddenly, she realized what Caillen’s words must have sounded like to him.
“Syn.” She moved to touch his arm. “He didn’t mean it.”
Syn just stared at her, his sight dulling. Caillen had meant it all right. After all these years, he finally knew why Caillen had kept him away from his sisters. It wasn’t that he was protective of them.
Caillen thought he was trash and he didn’t want to sully his precious sisters with Syn’s presence.
How could you crawl into bed with a common filch?
All this time he’d deluded himself with the belief that Caillen was actually his friend, that his past didn’t matter to him. Now he knew the real truth. Caillen, like everyone else in his life, had used him.
Gods, he was such a fool.
“Syn?”
He looked at her and the concern on her face. Curling his lip, he decided he was through with it. He didn’t need her pity and he sure as hell didn’t need her. To hell with all of them.
“Don’t touch me,” he snarled as she raised her hand toward his face. “Go be with your brother.” He has your devotion, I don’t. He’d never had anyone’s love like that, except for Talia’s, and she’d abandoned him to their father.
With that thought, he started pulling on the rest of his clothes. Fine, he didn’t need anyone. He’d lived his entire life alone. He was used to it.
He would clear his name so that she could go back to her life and then he’d vanish. Clearing her name would make them even for her rescue. Then he would owe neither her nor Caillen a damn thing.
She followed him as he searched for his boots. “Syn, would you please talk to me?”
He sat on the edge of the bed and jerked his boots on. “What do you want me to say?”
“Caillen was just upset—you know how he gets when he’s mad. He spews out all kind of stupidity. He’ll calm down and be sorry for it later. You’ll see.”
He curled his lip at her. “Don’t patronize me. I’m not an idiot. He meant every word.”
Shahara wanted to argue, but realized Syn might be right. She didn’t really know how much of it Caillen had meant. But if those were his true feelings after all Syn had done for him, she was embarrassed to claim Caillen as family.
How could her brother have hurt Syn like that?
Or worse, use him? If he’d only been using Syn all this time for his money, she vowed to make Caillen pay dearly for it. She’d taught him better than that. Expected better than that from him.
“What are you doing?” she asked as Syn strapped his blaster to his lean hips.
“I’m getting ready to leave.”
“Where are you going?” For a moment, she feared he was headed after Caillen to finish their fight.
He turned on her with a snarl. “After the damn map, remember?” Pulling his hair back off his face, he secured it with a black band. “You stay here and I’ll be back later.”
Something inside told her that if he left her, he’d never come back. Shahara had learned a long time ago to listen to that inner voice. She ran into the bathroom and hurriedly pulled her clothes out of the dryer.
Once dressed, she met Syn in his office by his desk.
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking her up and down.
“I’m going with you.”
“Like hell.”
“Like hell, nothing.” She stood toe to toe with him. “I’m going with you and you can’t stop me.”
Syn wanted to choke her even more than he wanted to beat the shit out of her brother. “It’s too dangerous for two. Stay here where it’s safe.”
Shahara arched an angry eyebrow. “I don’t think so. I started this with you and, by God, I’m going to finish it. And the last thing I need is some overly macho guy telling me that I can’t take the heat. If I can pull you out of prison, kick the ass of everyone who’s come at us so far, then I think I’m qualified to pilfer a map from your apartment.”
Syn clenched his teeth. He didn’t want her along. He was used to working alone and that’s the way he liked it.
He ignored the part of him which laughed a bitter denial.
Shahara grabbed her pack off the floor and slung it over her shoulder. “Okay, convict, what’s the plan?”
His teeth still clenched, Syn had half a notion to knock her over the head and leave her behind. But as stubborn as she was, she’d just come after him once she woke up.
With his luck, she’d lead about a dozen or more Rits to him.
At least if she were with him, he could keep his eye on her and make sure she didn’t do something stupid that would get them both caught. “All right, you can come. But if you so much as sneeze without my permission, I swear I’ll cut your throat and run for cover.”
Instead of angering her, his words made her smile.
She’s as crazy as the rest of her family.
But then what did that make him?
A first-rank idiot who deserves whatever the Rits do to you.
Syn growled low in his throat, wishing to the gods that he’d never been born. Without another word, he picked up his own pack and led her to the landing bay and into the belly of a small shuttle.
She dumped her pack in the copilot’s chair. “Why are we using a shuttle?” She took a seat in the navigator’s space.
He sighed, wondering why he’d ever involved himself with her. She was far too naive for the danger in his life. “If the Rits come after us, a freighter wouldn’t stand a prayer of escaping and a fighter would be too suspicious. I’m sure the authorities have a Search and Hold on every fighter that docks anywhere near Broma. Therefore we’re relegated to a shuttle.” That said, he took the helm and launched them.
Once they were safely away and he had their coordinates programmed in their directionals, Syn grabbed her pack out of the chair beside him and dropped it into her lap.
She looked up with a puzzled frown.
Opening it, he began pulling out various items. “This—” he held up a black, cloth hood, “Is part of your suit. You hook it up like this.” He pulled it on and showed her how to fasten the small metal hooks around the hem of the hood to the collar of their shirts. “The hood will protect you from any infrared or bio detectors they might use while scanning.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly,” he said quietly. “If I pull my hood out for any reason, whether you understand it or not, you do the same immediately and keep it on.”
Syn swallowed as her fingertips brushed against his hand. She took the hood from his grasp. For several seconds, he could do nothing except stare at her, wishing for things he knew he could never have.
I am a total idiot.
Clearing his throat, he forced himself to finish his instructions. He watched as she fastened the hood and then he checked it to make sure she’d done it correctly.
“Good.” Next he pulled out several explosives.
Shahara inclined her head to him. “Cloaking smoke, numbing gas, and a light bomb.” She touched each type of canister as she named it.
“Very good.” He repacked her gear and made sure her baton was back in its pocket. “Now take off your blaster and put it inside your pack.”
“Excuse me?” she asked in disbelief.
“Do it.”
Shahara bristled at his stern command. She’d never been one to take orders without a fight. “Why?”
He took a deep breath as if he needed patience. “If light hits your silver blaster, it’ll reflect off the barrel. Why the hell do you think mine’s black? Also, the
way you carry your blaster, it dangles loosely and could thump against something and alert our enemies to where we are. Something that would be very bad.”
Shahara narrowed her gaze at his sarcasm. “Is there anything else I do wrong, while you’re at it?”
Some of his anger dissipated. “It’s not wrong for what you do, but in my line of work, it’ll get you killed.”
Sighing at the harsh reality of his world, she put her hood within easy reach and prayed that this time everything went smoother for them.
Syn continued his warnings, “You also have to remember that if the authorities have the right equipment, the fuel inside your blaster will be picked up on their scanners.”
Now there was something she’d never heard of before. Dang, technology changed faster than she could keep up with it. “How is that possible?”
“Most blaster charges are coated with trissem to allow individual makers and suppliers to identify their merchandise. About a year ago, the authorities came out with a scanner that can pick up the trissem and expose a concealed weapon.”
“But how will putting it in the pack—”
“The pack is lined with deluva. To date, there’s no scanner that can infiltrate it. So long as we have them, we’re relatively safe.”
What did he do? Stay up every night researching all this? She unstrapped her blaster and did as he’d ordered. “You’re good at this.”
“Yeah, well, on the street a filch’s life expectancy is only twenty-two and I’m doing my best to double that.”
She flinched at his words. “You can’t be serious? Even League assassins have longer life expectancies than that.”
He turned to face her, his features completely stoic. “Assassins have a home quarter with allies. A filch has no one to trust. You’re just as likely to get it from a client as you are from an enforcer. Or a competitor. Believe me, I carry multiple scars from all three.”
Shahara drew her leg up into her chair and thought about his words. She’d never before considered how much danger such a life would hold. It was terrifying. At least as a tracer, she only had to worry about her targets getting her. While she did compete with others for missions, tracers didn’t kill each other over them.
“Yet you trusted Digger, Nykyrian, Darling and the Mothers.”
Sherrilyn Kenyon - [League 02] Page 26