Hunter

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Hunter Page 22

by Sharon Partington


  Keeping Vance Delaren’s secrets didn’t rank very high on my priority scale, and explanations were tedious. Plus, I wasn’t sure she’d understand all of the implications and connections anyway.

  “I don’t know. I don’t much care. I just need to find her.”

  Kyr shrugged. “Very well. I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

  “Okay. But I don’t want any debts between us. A favor for a favor. You do this for me, and I’ll do something for you.”

  “There’s nothing you can do for me that I can’t do for myself.”

  Independent little thing.

  “How do you know unless you ask?”

  She stared at me for a long moment. “Tell me what you do, and I’ll tell you what I need.”

  “I kill people.”

  She hesitated, shifting her gaze to the table. “It might be I know someone needs killing,” she said softly.

  “Who would that be?”

  “A Lyrian pig named Rikkar Sendren. He owned me once. He runs a high-class brothel in the Government District. It’s frequented by politicians and diplomats and by wealthy men and women from the University District. One of the whores in his stable is a girl named Miri. Bring her out. And kill this man.”

  “Any particular reason you want him dead?”

  “He’s filth,” spat Kyr, “making himself wealthy by selling children into perversion. He steals their innocence and, when they’re of no further use to him, he gives them to the Cartel.”

  Sounds like a prince.

  “And this Miri? Who is she to you?”

  “She’s the sister of my heart, and until Jak, she was my only friend. She protected me from the worst of Rikkar’s clients, taking them on herself. She received more than one beating and rape meant for me.”

  Something in her voice told me there was more to their relationship than that, but it wasn’t my business.

  “Any particular message you’d like me to pass along to this Lyrian prick before I blow him away?”

  Kyr looked up, tears shining in her eyes. “Yes,” she hissed. “Tell him that Kyr sends her love.”

  Chapter 18

  Kyr and I convinced Jak he’d be safer at the warehouse than back at the bar. Dalla, the barmaid, wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to see him, considering she’d ripped him off, and she’d probably spent his money by now anyway. Besides, walking back into what was obviously a Guild controlled hang out was just plain stupid.

  Kyr introduced me to a shower hidden in one of the upper rooms of the warehouse. I had a change of clothes in my bag and she offered to wash the ones I had on when she did her own laundry. I took her up on it, making a mental note to add it to the list of things I owed her.

  The upper floors of the warehouse had once contained offices, and some corporate big shot had insisted on all the amenities before his business tanked. I wondered why Kyr didn’t live up there; it was cleaner and larger than her space down below. Then I saw the size of the windows and figured it out. The warehouse might sit at the edge of nowhere, but there’d still be plenty of lowlife scum suckers and Cartel scouts lurking about. A light in the window of what was supposed to be an abandoned building would bring her attention she didn’t need.

  After the shower I felt a little more like a human being again. Kyr gave me the brothel’s address and Jak volunteered to take me there after the sun went down. I needed to meet with Miri and find out for myself if she was as ready and willing to escape Sendren as Kyr seemed to think. While I scoped out the brothel, Kyr would ask her contacts about Corin Raas. Or Wynn Delaren. Or whatever the hell the rebel leader called herself now.

  ◆◆◆

  Kyr left before us, her backpack slung over her shoulder. I’d stuffed a hundred credits into the side pocket before she left. She’d smiled her thanks on her way out the door. Tonight there would be less scavenging and more purchasing.

  The streets became gradually more congested as Jak led me towards the government district, and I paid closer attention to my surroundings this time. A couple more trips and I’d be able to make my way back to the warehouse without his expert direction.

  Expensive restaurants and shops lined the sidewalks, and the buildings were cleaner and classier looking than the tenements and loft apartments that made up the Iron District. We passed at least three consulates and half a dozen embassies, including Earth’s. I kept my head down as we walked past the wrought iron gate, careful not to make direct eye contact with the GSF sentries. They wore the armor of Gold Bands, and a cold shiver ran up my back. I probably knew them. In another life, it might have been me standing guard outside that gate.

  Finally, Jak stopped and nodded to a building across the street. “There it is.”

  Except for the red light shining above the door, it didn’t look that different from the other houses on the street. Most of the people passing by barely gave it a second look.

  “Wait here. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  “Have fun,” Jak muttered.

  I crossed the street and climbed the granite steps, glancing back to where he waited in the alley. I couldn’t see him even though I knew where to look; he was pretty good at making himself invisible. But then, he’d probably had plenty of practice.

  The brothel’s reception area was elegantly subdued. Gold brocade drapes hung from the windows and a very expensive Dorani rug covered the hardwood floor. A polished mahogany desk sat to the left of the door, and a Lyrian female, with white hair and gold eyes, manned it—she looked like she could be Kayla’s older sister. Petite and slender, she wore a tight fitting gown cut from dark blue silk. A diamond and sapphire choker glittered at her throat.

  She smiled seductively as I pulled the door shut. “Welcome to the Gates of Heaven,” she purred. “May we introduce you to a male or female companion this evening?”

  “Female, thank you.”

  She opened a leather-bound appointment book, running a manicured nail down a list of eight or nine names written in red ink, stopping at one near the bottom. “Yasmine is free. She was only recently acquired from the harem of the imperial Sirtan court. I’m sure she will please you.”

  “Actually, I’ve been told that Miri is a girl with exceptional talent. Is she available?”

  “I’m afraid Miri is fully booked this evening.”

  I took out my wallet and drew out five one hundred credit notes, placing them one at a time on the desk. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you’d be able to rearrange her schedule. Would that be possible?”

  The receptionist looked from the money to me. Her tongue flickered across her lips as her gaze returned to the money. She scooped it up and slipped it into the bodice of her gown. “I believe one of her clients has just canceled. Please be seated and I’ll send her down.”

  “Thanks.” I took a seat on one of the dark green velvet chairs next to the window.

  Judging by the décor, the Gates of Heaven looked to be outrageously expensive, but I doubted its clientele had much trouble paying for the services it provided. I didn’t see any security cameras, but I knew they’d be there somewhere. Rikkar Sendren might be a perverted son of a bitch, but he was also a business man, he’d want to keep a close eye on his investment.

  The whisper of silk caught my attention and a tall, slender Rigian girl descended the stairs. Her skin was the color of warm sand, and she wore her silver streaked bronze hair in an elegant but simple twist, held in place with a jade comb. The sides of her pale green gown had been slit almost to her waist, revealing legs to die for. A silver choker set with a square cut emerald flashed at her throat.

  “You sent for me, Rayna?” she asked the receptionist.

  “Yes, Miri. This gentleman has requested you specifically.”

  I stood as she approached and she smiled, her green-flecked topaz eyes flickering over my body. “I’m flattered.”

  I took her hand, bringing it to my lips. “You’re as beautiful as I was led to believe.”

  “I’m plea
sed you think so. Let me take you someplace a little more private, yes?”

  She led me up the stairs and down the carpeted hallway to a room at the end. Dark wood paneling covered the walls, and deep blue velvet draperies surrounded a king-sized bed covered with a black satin duvet and sheets. A low settee and chair sat in an alcove next to a lace curtained window overlooking the street. A glass fronted sideboard contained a variety of crystal decanters of wine and liquor, and twin brass and glass hurricane lamps burned at either end.

  Music played, a symphonic piece with an underlying seductive rhythm that soothed and relaxed.

  I wandered over to the window, looking towards the alley. I still couldn’t see Jak, but I knew he was there somewhere. The glass carried a faint blue sheen. I touched it, tentatively, feeling a brief electric shock. A force field. Low level, but uncomfortable enough to be a pretty good deterrent. There’d be no climbing out of this window.

  “Would you care for a drink?” Miri asked, motioning to the sideboard.

  “No thanks. The music is nice though, can you turn it up?”

  She glanced at me curiously. “If you like.”

  She opened the bottom doors of the sideboard, revealing a sophisticated stereo system. She slid her finger along the volume control, and the music grew louder.

  I sat on the settee and offered my hand. “Care to join me?”

  She smiled as I pulled her onto my lap, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Kyr sent me,” I murmured into her ear. “She thought you might be ready for a career change.”

  Miri closed her eyes and her body tensed.

  “Where’s the camera?” I whispered, sliding my hand along her thigh. Her lips caressed my ear.

  “In the painting above the sideboard.”

  I glanced at the painting, an abstract swirl in purple and gold.

  Miri began unbuttoning my shirt. I couldn’t tell if she played for the camera or for real, but my body definitely enjoyed the attention.

  The music masked her voice as her lips brushed mine. “How is Kyr? I haven’t seen her in a very long time.”

  “She’s fine,” I murmured, slipping the gown from her shoulders, I lowered my head to kiss her neck. “She’s worried about you.”

  “She need not be,” sighed Miri, “as one of Rikkar’s favorites, I’m treated better than most.”

  “She’s asked me to get you out of here, if you’re willing to go.”

  She slipped her hand inside my shirt, trailing her fingers down my chest. I stood and carried her to the bed, laying her on her back, leaning forward to cup her breast as I kissed her neck.

  “Tonight?” she whispered, her breath warm in my ear.

  “No. Not tonight.” I pulled the comb from her hair. It spread around her in a torrent of perfumed, bronze and silver mist. “Are you allowed to leave the house with your clients?”

  “Sometimes,” she whispered. I struggled to stay focused as she opened herself to me and I eased myself inside her. “If there is a specific function that a client wishes to attend with an escort, Rikkar will often allow us to go.”

  “Unchaperoned?” I murmured. “Isn’t he afraid you’ll decide not to come back?”

  “We’ve all been fit with tracking devices, he can find us wherever we go.”

  My hands traced the curves of her body, sliding up to twine in her hair. I glanced toward the painting.

  Get a good, long, look, Sendren, you bastard.

  “Tracking devices?” I whispered as our bodies moved together. “My choker,” she moaned, “The device is embedded within it.”

  “Can you take it off?”

  “No. The clasp has been permanently fastened.”

  Great.

  I pulled her hard against me, and she arched her back, sighing softly, her body trembling. We lay for a moment in a warm, sweaty, tangle before she got up and walked, naked, back to the settee. She slipped back into her dress and I buttoned my shirt. Zipped up my pants. Straightened myself out. I drew out five more one hundred credit notes, tucking them into the bodice of her gown, my hand lingering on her breast.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow night,” I whispered.

  “What about the tracking device?”

  I thought of Jak. Kyr said he was good at fixing mechanical things. Let’s see how he was with this.

  “I think I know someone who can get it off.”

  She took my hand, leading me back to the reception area.

  “I have a private engagement to attend tomorrow night,” I said to Rayna, the receptionist. “I’d like Miri to serve as my companion for the evening.”

  “All outside engagements must be approved by the Master. One moment and I’ll summon him.”

  She pressed a red button on the com-link and a few minutes later Rikkar Sendren descended the stairs.

  Tall for a Lyrian, his feline eyes were an odd mix of blue and gray. White streaks decorated his long black hair, a pattern too uniform to be natural. He wore one of the loose fitting caftans the males of his species preferred, this one a silver-gray—it was fastened at his throat with an obsidian clip. He looked soft, but there was an edge to him, a perverse cruelness to the fine lines around his mouth.

  “Master Sendren,” said the receptionist. “This man would like Miri to accompany him to a private engagement outside the house. Tomorrow evening.”

  “Miri’s time is very valuable,” he said, looking from her to me. His voice was soft and cultured, but it held a note of something that made my skin crawl. “You will, of course, be charged for the entire night. Twenty-five thousand Terran credits.”

  He’d deliberately quoted an outrageous amount, expecting me to cave, I saw it in his eyes.

  Fortunately, thanks to my hard-earned blood money, disposable income wasn’t a problem. “Do I pay now, or later?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I do not normally allow my girls to leave the house with a client I do not know. May I ask who referred you to us?”

  “Artur Melardis,” I said, saying the first name that popped into my head. “I’d hate to tell him his recommendation was a poor one.”

  Sendren paled at the mention of the Guild Master’s name, his smile losing a little of its luster. The smug arrogance in his eyes faded a little too. I’d rattled him.

  Good for me.

  “Master Melardis is a valued client,” said Sendren. “If you would be kind enough to wait while I verify his recommendation?”

  Uh oh.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” I asked, dragging out my ‘assassin’ voice. Tension and the rising potential for explosive violence simmered in the air between us.

  If he insisted on calling my bluff I’d have to kill him right here. Not that I had a real issue with that, but it would mean I’d have to kill Rayna the receptionist too. Then I’d have to fight my way through his security people and out the front door with Miri in tow.

  Messy. Very messy.

  Sendren hesitated, his gaze shifting from Miri to me. She kept her eyes on the floor, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.

  He and I were the powers, she was the prize.

  Finally, Sendren smiled, and the tension in the room evaporated a little. Apparently, upon reflection, he reached the conclusion that a guaranteed twenty-five grand in his pocket outweighed the possibility that I might be full of shit.

  I guess business is business.

  “Of course not, forgive me,” he said. “If Master Melardis did in fact refer you, then I see no reason for Miri not to accompany you. You will have her back at the house by noon the day following the engagement.”

  “All right.”

  “Is this a formal engagement?” asked Miri.

  “No, but it will probably last all night.”

  Miri shifted her gaze to the floor. “What time should I be ready?”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven GST.”

  I kissed her hand and nodded to Sendren. Once outside, I drew a deep breath and crossed the street to where Jak waited.r />
  “Have a good time?” he asked with a smirk as he fell into step beside me.

  “How good a scavenger are you?” I asked.

  “What do you need?”

  “A scanner, one that will give me a good look at the inside of that brothel. GSF bomb disposal units use them to examine suspect buildings.”

  “I’ll bet Kyr’s junk dealer has one,” said Jak, after a moment’s thought.

  “Take me to him.”

  We kept a low profile, staying to the alleys and backstreets as we made our way to a small shop not far from the space port. The Guilds were actively looking for us and I didn’t have time to play their game right now.

  The sign in the shop window advertised antiques. Garbage was probably closer to the truth. Jak pushed the door open and we stepped into the dim interior. A single, bare electric bulb hung from the ceiling, and mechanical crap covered every horizontal surface. Tools, cables, electrical components—even a gutted data console. The air smelled sour and stale, an unpleasant combination of wet dust and fried electrical wires. A balding Rigian man sat on a stool behind the scarred green counter.

  “Greetings,” he said, offering a gap-toothed grin. “What can I help you with today?”

  This rat bag charged Kyr sex for propane?

  Jak wandered down the cluttered and crowded aisles, his eyes skimming the various components. Now and then he’d pick up a piece of something and slip it into his shirt or his pocket. The junk dealer didn’t notice.

  “I need a scanner. A good one, not one that’s going to crap out on me as soon as I’m out the door.”

  The junk dealer looked offended. “I sell electronic devices of only the highest quality.”

  He has to be kidding.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Do you have what I want?”

  The junk dealer hopped off his stool and shuffled down an aisle to the left of the counter. Jak rejoined me, and the shopkeeper returned with a black box a little bigger than my hand.

  “How’s this?” he asked.

  I examined the box, turning it over to look at the back. Military issue, but the serial number had been scratched off. It must have ‘accidentally’ fallen off the back of a GSF supply truck. I turned it on, aiming it through the window at the building across the street. The screen flickered, showing a computer generated floor plan complete with doors and windows. It even gave a readout of how many people were inside and which rooms they were in.

 

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