Smuggler’s Contubernium (Mea Lupus Series Book 1)

by Kahaula

  “I want you word, wolf,” Fillion’s demand was breathy and soaked in fear, but smart enough.

  “You have our word.” Adohi nodded. Fillion blew out a breath like he had just made the greatest deal of his life. He smiled cockily, regaining some of his earlier bravado.

  “The Ferryman’s got a liaison delivering some merchandise to me tonight,” Fillion puffed up and leaned toward the three of us.

  “One of us can go in your place—“ I began.

  “Pfft! You can’t go in my place,” he laughed, “Everyone knows Fillion, and no one, especially not the liaison is going to believe a switch.” Fillion rolled his eyes at me. The arrogance of the man was astounding. He was caught by Mea Lupus, covered in smears of food and stinking like a bar floor, but he acted like he’d slither his way out of this situation unscathed. I prided myself on being the reasonable, thoughtful one, but right now I wanted to rip his face off and make him eat it. The idiot must have sensed it because he pulled away from my hard stare.

  “Who is your liaison?” Adohi’s question cut into my bloody fantasy.

  “I’m not tellin,” Fillion’s eyes shifted back to Adohi. Before any of us could lay into him he continued quickly, “I tell you and you definitely don’t let me out of here.”

  “Fine. What time is the hand off?”

  “What time is it now?” Fillion shrugged casually, like our entire hope of catching the notorious smuggler didn’t hinge on this meeting.

  “9 p.m.,” I supplied.

  “In 1 hour,” answered Fillion. Adohi’s blink was his only sign of shock. We could have easily missed this window.

  “You were drinking before a hand off?” I asked incredulously.

  “I was having dinner with some colleagues,” Conchobhar snorted at Fillion’s use of the word ‘colleagues’, “and the message came in.”

  “And you decided to keep drinking,” Adohi deadpanned.

  “Well, I had a couple of hours to kill,” defended Fillion shrilly.

  “Fucking idiot,” Conchobhar shook his head and walked out of the room. He would leave the finer details to Adohi and I. Fillion scowled lightly at Conchobhar’s exit.

  We weren’t in the interrogation room much longer. Fillion refused to tell us anything more and we didn’t want to push him so hard that he then refused to cooperate at all. Adohi and I were already in agreement that it was just easier to tag him with a surveillance bot and trail him. We didn’t want to waste time tackling him if he tried to make a run for it, so we released him with only ten minutes to get to the meet point and with the knowledge that we’d be watching the whole way via the bot.

  Discussing the plan with Quintillus, Oli, and Conchobhar went smoothly. We’d trail Fillion and watch through the bot tagged in his coat to see who this liaison was and what they said about the Ferryman. If the Ferryman appeared on his own then we had the numbers to surround and outflank him. If Fillion tipped off or spooked the Ferryman’s liaison then we’d outflank and capture him.

  One section over, we watched on our gauntlets as Fillion swaggered through corridors to a dark and somewhat dilapidated section of the station. What we saw when he rounded the corridor had all of us sucking in a shocked breath.

  Kara.

  Standing. Waiting with a case.

  “Ah, Kara,” Fillion oozed charm, “I see you’ve got my property.” The small bot we placed on Fillion caught her fear stricken expression.

  “Payment. Now,” she ground out. Her eyes darted all around her as if trying to anticipate when a shadow would become more than a spot of darkness. Gone was the Kara of our first meeting and nowhere was the Kara that made Quintillus blush. This Kara looked worn down and jumpy with anxiety.

  “Let me see what I purchased first,” he scoffed.

  “Enough fucking games, Fillion,” Kara’s harsh retort bordered on pleading, “The Ferryman already let you get away with not paying until the delivery of your shit. I’m not dying because you can’t stick to what you agreed to.”

  “Oh, spare me, you’re his liaison,” Fillion mocked.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you,” Kara started to back away. “You do what the Ferryman tells you to do or you get dead.”

  “You seem to be doing just fine,” mocked Fillion. Her laugh was hollow and manic.

  “You act like I have a fucking choice!” Kara backed away even more. Fillion could sense Kara’s skittishness and put up his hands in a placating gesture.

  “Look, I’m paying now,” he tapped his comm bracelet and Kara’s gauntlet chimed. She looked down to confirm that it had gone through. I looked over my shoulder at Quintillus; he was pale and a small sheen of sweat stood out on his forehead. Looking back down at my gauntlet I saw Kara close her eyes and take a steadying breath before opening them again.

  “Payment received,” she said flatly. Her mouth was set in a grim line. She didn’t want to be there but she accepted that this was her lot in life. I felt my heart crack at the bleak and exhausted look on her face. She handed off the case then took off into the shadows.

  “A deals a deal,” Fillion looked down into the bot’s camera before we saw a boot come down on it, cutting the feed.

  “We have to catch her before she gets away,” Adohi sounded eager and maybe even a bit smug as he started to walk away from us.

  “No,” said Quintillus.

  “You can’t be serious,” scoffed Adohi.

  “I fucking said, NO!” Shouted Quintillus. His breathing came out in harsh pants and his eyes were that of his wolf’s. His fingertips were clawed and his jaw clenched down on protruding fangs. Each heavy breath from his monstrous mouth ended on a soft whine. It wasn’t a half shift. Quintillus was doing his best to hold his shit together. And failing.

  “Talk to us Quin,” Oli spoke soothingly. Oli was Chosen, he understood what Quintillus was going through more than we did. We had been born Mea Lupus, learning self-control over our shifting and our mental state was just part of puberty. One that stretched over decades. Being out of control and having to learn it quickly or you might hurt others was something Oli had to do within his first few months of becoming Chosen.

  Quintillus took in a few more shuddering breaths, regaining some control of himself. Adohi, Conchobhar, and I looked at each other in shock. Quintillus prided himself on his poise and levelheadedness. Seeing him like this was akin to watching our friend have a nervous breakdown.

  “I could feel...,” Quintillus slowly sucked in another breath and shook his head clear. He took two steps, pressing his back against the dingy wall. His eyes were still his wolf’s but his fangs were no longer oversized for his still human jaw. “I could feel her terror from here,” his voice shook out on a protective growl. My eyes rounded in shock. For Quintillus to have felt Kara from a whole section over meant she must have been scared out of her mind.

  “We saw her face, Adohi,” agreed Oli, “She did not want to be there. Whatever she’s doing for the Ferryman, she’s not doing it willingly.”

  “But she’s still doing things for him,” ground out Adohi. His earlier smugness had evaporated in the heat of his anger. I couldn’t tell whether that anger was with us or himself for not seeing the connection earlier.

  “Cassie,” Conchobhar’s surprised whisper seemed more like he was talking to himself than us but we all zeroed in on him.

  “What about her?” I asked.

  “Cassie was telling Fillion to shut up and not talk about the Ferryman in public,” he looked at each of us in thought, “When I came over to take him in she said she wanted no part in whatever I was going to do—especially in her bar, of all places.”

  “It would probably look bad at an establishment like hers to be helping the Mea Lupus,” added Adohi cynically.

  “No,” Conchobhar disagreed, “I could smell her fear and it wasn’t because of us. She was scared of the Ferryman. Even the drunk sycophants at his table warned Fillion that bragging was dangerous.”

  “Are you saying Kara’s in d
anger?” Oli asked.

  “All the more reason to catch her now,” Adohi took one step before Quintillus slammed him against the bulkhead and growled in his face.

  “We chase her down now and the Ferryman will definitely target her,” the bones in Quintillus’s face moved and reset, his voice barely human. Adohi’s nostrils flared in rage and he clamped his clawed hands down on Quintillus’s wrists. I needed to intervene. Quintillus was too far gone in whatever emotion he was drowning in and Adohi wasn’t helping.

  “Then we go to Cassie’s,” everyone turned and stared at me. Their confusion was obvious, only Conchobhar nodded in understanding. “It’s where Conchobhar found Fillion, and Cassie obviously knows more than just rumours,” I turned to Quintillus who was still locked with Adohi against the wall. “Adohi can tap into docking surveillance and keep an eye on Kara. Also, going to Cassie’s causes no suspicion for the Ferryman. Are we agreed?”

  “Agreed.” They said in unison.

  Maybe now we would get some real answers about the elusive and terror inducing Ferryman.

  Adohi

  I was fuming.

  Pissed right the fuck off.

  But with whom? Me or Kara?

  I eyed Quintillus from my periphery. He turned his head to narrow his eyes over his shoulder at me. He had reined in his fangs and claws but his hands still clenched and unclenched at his sides. I probably didn’t look much better. I felt strands of hair brush back and forth on my cheeks. They had been pulled loose from my braid in our scuffle.

  Even with Quintillus’s worrisome trip down what the fuck lane, his short imperial hairstyle looked perfect. What a prim asshole. He can’t even freak out and look bad doing it, I harrumphed silently. I ignored his trailing angry eyes to work on my gauntlet. Kara was already back at her ship.

  I rewound the footage and watched her sit at the very top of the well worn hull and hug her knees. Something in my gut twisted watching the woman who so confidently put me in my place, curl up on herself. She didn’t break down. She didn’t hide. She regrouped.

  I respected that. Begrudgingly.

  I sighed at my own obstinance and fast forwarded to the live feed. She was still on her ship hull but now she was working on something. One of the maintenance people stood next to her checking over her work. Good, Kara is keeping herself busy. I stifled a growl. I didn’t need anything else in common with her. It was bad enough that the rest were following like puppies behind her, I couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—be the same.

  Pushing ahead of the others I stalked into Cassie’s. The place was packed. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of arousal, frustration, and impotent anger. I may not be empathic like Quintillus but it didn’t take being a Mea Lupus to read this room. No one wanted us here but Cassie’s welcomed everyone, including the wolves none of them could stand. Unless we were saving their ass that is.

  I bumped and barrelled through the crowd looking for Cassie. I didn’t give a fuck about being polite. The others stayed behind me in the wide wake that I created in the crowds of mingling drunks and employees. We were well past the hours when Cassie’s was a respectable restaurant. The only feasting done on the tables now was firmly between the thighs or mouths of the brothel workers all around us.

  Everything about tonight is so fucking stupid, my angry thoughts scalded the inside of my skull, I gave my word to let that dickhead slither away and we’re not taking Kara into custody because of Quintillus and his ‘feelings’. I felt my lip curl in disgust. Everyone was so worried about protecting Kara and I was the only one taking any kind of critical eye to her.

  And what did I get for it? Shoved up a dank dirty wall by my own pack mate.

  I spotted Cassie making her way through the booths to greet and charm her late night customers. Tonight it was neon green hair and pink lips. Her corset and skirts were a riot of colour, light, and feathers. If I didn’t know she was Mortal I would think she was some divine bird or at least an alien avian species.

  “Cassie, we need to talk,” I said gruffly. Her smile fell for only a moment but never fell far enough to be a frown. Her self-discipline made me respect the woman even more.

  “Of course, my lords,” she turned on another supernova smile and lead us to an out of the way private booth. She waved us to have a seat before pressing a few keys into a side panel. The noise of the bar fell away instantly.

  “I’m impressed,” the others looked at me in surprise. “You must really be doing well to afford a privacy screen like this.”

  “It only works on sound,” Cassie’s eyes were hard and sharp as an iceberg, silently waiting in the dark to sink your vessel. She turned to Conchobhar with a scathing look, “I told you. I told you I wanted nothing to do with the Ferryman or that blowhard Fillion.”

  “Cassie...,” Bhar sounded pained and apologetic.

  “Don’t you dare ‘Cassie’ me!” Cassie was fuming but her eyes were wild not with anger but fear. Fear and bad memories. I scanned my pack mates but all four seemed too full of contrition to rebuff or address Cassie’s outburst.

  “Kara is the Ferryman’s liaison,” I stated. If they wanted to be chicken shit, they could do that on their own time. I came here for answers.

  “I...,” Cassie gasped and her eyes looked anywhere but at us.

  “You knew,” Quintillus’s bewildered accusation forced her to meet his eyes. His eyes became hard, “You knew we were here looking for the Ferryman. But you didn’t tell us about Kara. Why?”

  “I...,” she swallowed then sat down in the booth with us. Her fingers rubbed against each other, and she pushed her hands under the table to hide her nervous habit. “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “Tell us, Cassie,” said Bhar kindly. We hid our reaction but I knew we were all surprised by Bhar’s soft handling of the woman. “Help us understand.” She lifted her eyes and something in them had me quickly checking the surveillance feed to see if Kara was still okay. She was. Kara along with a tall maintenance worker were discussing an open panel on the belly of her ship. The itch to go to her, protect her, clawed at my insides.

  “You asked me if I owned many businesses here on Castra 3,” Cassie backtracked a bit for the rest of us as Bhar nodded in encouragement. “I told you I worked up from off my back.”

  “You also said that was why this place wasn’t overrun with murderers and slavers anymore,” Bhar added. Cassie looked away but we all caught the shame and pain in her eyes.

  “About 5 years ago I was kidnapped and sold into slavery,” Cassie looked up at us, daring us to interrupt her. She cast her fierce gaze on each of us before continuing, “Mag-chained to a dirty bed, bolt hole toilet, shower once a week, and light on only when we ‘worked’.” She practically spat that last word.

  “What does this have to do with the Ferryman or Kara?” Quintillus asked coldly. What the fuck is going on with my pack, I thought wildly. Bhar being kind. Quintillus being cold. Oli being calm and levelheaded. If shit gets anymore topsy turvy Aphelele will start chugging alcohol and dancing on the table.

  “Everything, wolf,” Cassie challenged Quintillus, their eyes locked in a stare down. “The first time the Ferryman ever came to Castra 3 was to kill my owner.” Quintillus blinked, taken aback like we all were, by the venom in her voice. “You know why I worship Fortuna above all others, even the Divine Couple?”

  “Why?” I asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question. Cassie’s eyes sliced across us all to really look at me.

  “Because it was pure chance that saved my life and the lives of every slave here at Castra 3,” the despair in her eyes rained down on me like acid. I could be a dick, callous even, but I wouldn’t dare dismiss the raw pain on her face.

  “What happened?” Aphelele’s gentle voice sucked her back into the present and away from the undertow of her haunting memories.

  “My owner had betrayed the Ferryman,” she shook her head and wiped away stray tears that had betrayed her, “I don’t know the details of whatever deal
they had. I just know what the Ferryman did to him.”

  “You’ve seen him?” I asked her in shock. Not once in all the time I had put into this case, had I ever found a picture of the Ferryman. I didn’t even have a basic physical description. His clients never talked, and that was only if I could find one. Whoever the Ferryman was, he was more than adept at covering all traces of himself.

  “Barely,” she rolled her eyes at me, “just his eyes.” She shuddered. “And it was years ago, like I said.”

  “The Ferryman makes damn sure never to leave any traces of himself,” I eyed her skeptically, “How are you still alive?”

  “I asked myself the same thing that first year free,” Cassie’s laugh was empty and humourless, “But between fighting off the pimps and keeping my people safe from being snatched by other slavers still here at the time I just had to pick the enemy that was at my door.” She shrugged matter-of-factly, “I didn’t have the luxury of cowering in fear.”

  “You said to Fillion you weren’t going to be gutted because of his bullshit,” Bhar leaned forward, “Seemed specific.” Cassie cringed.

  “The slavers here were untouchable,” she smashed down her finger on the table to make her point, “Mea Lupus only showed up once a year and more often than not would just agree with whatever the local Imperial Union rep would put in their report.” She bared her blunt teeth at us, “The slavers held auctions here all the time. Castra 3 was a meat market.”

  “How is that even possible...,” Oli’s disbelief showed his youth.

  “You’re young, Oli,” Aphelele sighed, “You’ve only been Chosen for 20 years. You still think like a Mortal—”

  “No, fuck that,” Oli pushed back, “She just fucking said this gods damned station was known as a slavers hub.”

  “Not a slavers hub,” Cassie cut in bitterly, “the slavers hub of the frontier.”

  “But we were here 15 years ago...,” Oli trailed off and paled. He was getting his first taste of reality as a Mea Lupus. I watched as self loathing, self doubt, guilt, and bitterness passed across his face.