by JC Cassels
Positive.
Pregnant.
That can’t be. Household scanners give false results all the time – don’t they?
Bo shook it hard and checked the results again. Still no change.
Switching it off, she set it aside.
I can’t be pregnant.
Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I can.
Oh no! I’m pregnant!
It’s okay, I’m married.
Hysterical laughter bubbled up and burst from her mouth. Married? She wasn’t supposed to be married. They hadn’t ever really resolved that issue. Blade didn’t want to dissolve the marriage before. He surely wouldn’t go for it now.
What would she tell her father?
Cold reality slapped her in the face.
There would be no telling her father.
Her hysterical laughter gave way to tears.
Holy Maker! Is this what insanity feels like?
Switching on the faucet, she splashed cold water on her face until she regained a modicum of control over her emotions. With one last long sigh, she dried her face. One step at a time. First she would get dressed. Then she would try to figure out how to broach the subject with Blade.
A baby complicated things.
She smiled to herself.
What didn’t complicate things?
Bo pulled on a pair of loose trousers and reached for one of Blade’s undershirts. No wonder all of her waistbands had seemed to be getting too tight despite the fact she hadn’t felt like eating.
Kah Lahtrec seemed like a nice, quiet, out-of-the way place to raise a baby.
The three-note melody door chime echoed through the empty apartment.
That couldn’t be Blade back with the food already. Shrugging into the shirt, Bo picked up the media controls from the nightstand and switched the holofeed to the security cams in the hallway outside her door.
A tall, dark-haired woman stood patiently, waiting for a response.
Bo’s eyes narrowed.
Her building was supposed to be secure. She hadn’t granted access to anyone. Bo’s hand closed around the compact pistol on the table beside the bed and she descended the steps to the door. She touched the controls beside the door that activated the com-system. The woman’s two-dee image flickered to life on the panel.
“Can I help you?”
The woman looked up at the camera above the door and smiled pleasantly. “I’m looking for Blade,” she said.
“Why?”
“I have something of his.” The woman held up an IC issue data reader.
Bo’s eyes narrowed. Forcing a neutral expression, she held the pistol behind her back and touched the controls to open the door.
As the door slid open, the woman’s dark eyes took her measure. Though her expression never changed, her gaze lingered briefly on the hand Bo tucked behind her.
“You must be Marissa,” she said warmly, as if greeting an old friend.
Bo nodded, her every sense on alert. The woman oozed sex and danger. No one knew better than she how dangerous a beautiful woman could be.
“Blade’s spoken of you,” she said. Her gaze flicked over Bo again in thinly disguised disdain. “Somehow, I thought you’d be taller.” With a little toss of her head over some private joke, she laughed. “Forgive me. I’m Larianne. Blade and I go way back.” She offered the data reader to Bo. “I couldn’t remember if he was headed here or to Trisdos. Altair was closer, so I took a shot.”
Bo stared at the device in her outstretched hand for a long moment. The scratch on the edge and the small worn spot on the side identified it as Blade’s.
Bo’s fingers curled into a fist at her side before she slowly reached for the device.
Something was wrong.
“How did you get this? He never lets it out of his reach.” Bo studied the woman’s features.
Larianne shrugged. “He left it in my stateroom,” she said. “It must have fallen out of his pocket when he got undressed. You know how hopeless he is without it.”
Undressed?
Bo ran her thumb absently over the scratch on the edge.
Larianne studied her too intently, as if she were waiting for some particular response.
“What do you really want?”
Larianne sighed. “Honestly? I was hoping to catch him here with you. I’m tired of this game. I want it to be over.”
She studied Bo’s face for a long moment. “I’m the one who sent him on the Tennova Job. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known what the assignment was.”
Larianne canted her head at Bo. “You really don’t know, do you?” Her smile widened. “I’m not surprised. He’s very good at what he does, isn’t he? He’s like a disease. He gets in your blood and you just can’t shake him.”
Larianne reached up and lightly stroked her neck just under her ear. “The little lingering kisses right here…” She trailed off. Closing her eyes, she smiled and arched her neck seductively towards an imaginary lover and sighed. “I melt every time.” Her eyes slowly opened and she looked directly at Bo. “I see he’s used that on you, too, hasn’t he? It’s one of his best moves.”
Forcing down a sudden, unexpected surge of jealousy, Bo lifted her chin slightly. A cold smile touched her lips. “If there’s something you’d care to say to me, I suggest you come out and say it,” she said. “I’m not very good at reading between the lines.”
“I hope you haven’t fallen in love with him,” Larianne said. “This assignment is coming to an end. He’s been reassigned to Trisdos. He just wrapped up his holofeature career with that grand kidnapping stunt and shootout. He’ll tie up the rest of the loose ends, cut his assets loose or neutralize them.” She let that sink in before she went on. “I see by the look in your eyes that you don’t believe me. You can’t trust anything he says. He lies to everyone about everything…and he does it so beautifully. He’s a master of seduction and manipulation. I taught him everything he knows. Don’t presume that you know him. We’ve been together for ten years and I know him well enough to know that I hardly know him at all.”
“I see.” Bo didn’t, but she wasn’t going to give the woman the satisfaction of knowing that. “You’re saying I’m a loose end to be dealt with.”
“Not even a Predator with his clearances can eliminate a Kiara with impunity,” Larianne said. “I’m only trying to protect him. When the end comes, I want to make sure you’re not going to make any trouble for him. I suggest you start looking for another patron. The First Sector will make a reasonable severance offer, of course. I encourage you to take it. Don’t think you can hold on to him.” Her gaze flicked over Bo again. “I’ve seen women like you come and go over the years; more than I care to count. He always comes back to me.” She nodded towards the data reader in Bo’s hand. “When you give that to him, tell him I dropped it off and see how he reacts. I’m sure you’ll find it quite instructive.”
Larianne’s smug smile held little warmth. “I’m so glad I got the chance to meet you, Marissa.”
Without another word, the woman slowly turned and sauntered away. She moved with a fluid, almost feline grace.
Bo’s gun hand itched to put a blaster bolt between those sinewy shoulders. Her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed. Bo touched the door controls, sealing her apartment once more and closing off her view of the annoying woman.
Her fingers tightened around the data reader.
Stateroom indeed!
Bo wandered back to the sofa and set the blaster on the table. Before she could talk herself out of it, she powered up the data reader. She flipped through familiar files and information configured exactly as they should be. Blade’s data reader – no doubt about that. Bo stared at the door. That didn’t prove anything.
Bo sat on the sofa and turned the device over in her hands, studying it from every angle. After a long moment, she pried off the back cover for access to the programming information. Setting the back cover aside, she studied the innards.
She could take the whole
thing to her brother for analysis, or call him over. Edge would be straight with her.
Bo rose and took two steps for the com-platform before she stopped.
That woman was obviously IC. If she’d brought the data reader intending to use it to locate Redmaster Blue, Bo couldn’t risk exposing Edge like that.
Frowning to herself, she reached for the cover.
She didn’t know what she was doing, and she needed to wait until she calmed down before she did something stupid.
Her hands trembled too much to fit the back cover on the first time. Turning the cover over in her hand, Bo studied it, looking for the markings that corresponded to the main unit.
Her hand stilled.
How had she missed a tiny data card stuck to the inside of the back cover?
Strange place for a data card.
Bo pried it loose.
Holding it between her thumb and forefinger she held it up to the light and studied it a long moment. The markings bore IC encryption.
Leaving the back cover off, Bo fitted the card into the slot on the side. Immediately the decryption program ran and an icon flashed. Bo touched the icon, triggering the autorun sequence. A holographic display hovered over the data reader, identifying the contents as a set of orders with a timestamp two years ago, prior to her first meeting with Blade in the embarkation lounge on Cormoran.
The words faded and the image of two men flickered then solidified; Blade and Lord Marin seated in a pair of overstuffed chairs.
Lord Marin leaned towards Blade. “I want you to cultivate The Barron as an asset. Gain her trust. Get her loyalty. Get close to her. Make her trust you.”
Blade stared at him for a long moment.
“No.” He slowly rose from his chair. “I can’t afford to carry on an affair with a convicted traitor. I’m getting ready to start pre-production on a new holofeature. The media is going to be all over me. Any woman I appear in public with is going to be under media scrutiny. I live and work on Cormoran.”
“Her mother was a courtesan. Barron has a legitimate Joy Babe certification through the Kiara D’or Choh. It’s not unheard of for high-profile celebrities to contract a long-term exclusive companion.”
Marin gave him a meaningful look and waited expectantly for his rebuttal.
“She’s a Kiara, sir,” Blade lifted his chin with a small, victorious smile. “I don’t have the pedigree to rate a Kiara. I’m Dev Fossey from the Fasi Home.”
“Madame Misou is an old friend of mine,” Marin said with a slow smile. “She is very discreet. Set Barron up in an apartment on Altair. There’s gambling and vice enough there to suit your dissolute tendencies.”
Marin leaned back in his chair and watched him.
Blade slowly sank back down into the oversized leather chair. He shook his head. Leaning forward he braced his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together.
“I can’t talk you out of this, can I?”
Marin smiled. “No, boy, you can’t. Cultivate her as an asset. Earn her trust. Gain her loyalty. Don’t fall in love with her. She’s expendable. You’re not.”
Blade laughed bitterly. Slowly, he raised his head and favored the older man with a mix of admiration and amusement.
“Make arrangements with your Madame Misou,” he said quietly. “I’ll do what you say. But I want a few concessions in return.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“I want no interference in my career,” Blade said. “No more IC jobs for as long as I’m cultivating The Barron’s loyalty.”
“That can be arranged.” Marin rose and extended his hand. “Then we have an agreement?”
With a nod, Blade likewise came to his feet and took the other man’s hand, sealing the deal.
“Cultivate Barron’s loyalty. Keep her openly as your mistress, but keep a professional distance. Never forget she’s an asset and a potential threat to the stability of the Commonwealth.”
Blade nodded.
“I’ll make the arrangements with Misou. Crider will contact you with the details.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
The image flickered and faded away. Bo stared at the device for a long moment, afraid to breathe. A wave of nausea rose, threatening to choke her. Swallowing back her bile, Bo unsteadily came to her feet and stumbled into the lav, one arm protectively over her stomach. When the spasms hit her, she vomited into the basin.
Wiping the sputum from her lips with an unsteady hand, Bo stared unseeing into the basin as it automatically rinsed itself.
She mentally replayed her first meeting with him in the embarkation lounge, seeing the interaction in a new light given what she’d just learned. She’d been played. He had been playing her from the very first.
Slowly she shook her head, unwilling to believe. Bo’s gaze turned to the data reader still clenched in her hand. She stared blankly at the device, hoping to find some proof that the card was a forgery or the reader a copy. Her vision clouded and large, hot tears slowly broke free and trailed down her cheeks.
It was all a lie.
“You lied.”
“Of course I did. To which lie are you referring?”
Bo closed her eyes tightly and rested her forehead in the hand holding the data reader.
“Don’t feel singled out. I lie to everyone.”
Silent sobs shook her shoulders. Bo drew a deep shuddering breath and slowly sank to her knees on the cold, tile floor, blinded by her tears.
“You are the only woman I love – the only woman I have ever loved. I am yours – whether you want me or not…”
Drawing another deep breath, Bo released it in a keening cry while rocking back and forth. She slowly crumpled to the floor, unable to hold herself up even a little, as the knot in her chest exploded into full-blown agony,.
Eventually her tears ran dry.
Numb, she lay on the floor staring at the data reader still clutched in her hand.
Had he come to Altair because he cared for her? Or had he come because The Barron was dead and Lord Marin wanted the Black Wing?
“Just like every other married couple,” she mumbled.
She couldn’t be certain, but marrying her didn’t sound like one of Lord Marin’s approved actions for his assignment. It wasn’t like they’d accidentally gotten married. She knew him well enough to know he’d planned it. Why would he go that far and defy Lord Marin if she were only an asset?
Bo closed her eyes.
Maybe she was just deluding herself. Maybe she just didn’t want to face facts. The warning signs had been there. She’d been happy to ignore them.
Blade Devon, or whatever his name was, was a sociopath. It said so in his service records.
She’d been so infatuated with him she hadn’t listened to her own good sense. From the first moment he’d approached her on the Tennova Job, he’d deliberately set out to seduce and manipulate her. She’d been so easy to play. She hadn’t stood a chance.
“Oh, I don’t want to think anymore,” she groaned.
Opening her eyes, Bo pushed herself off the floor and switched off the data reader. She went through the motions, replacing the cover on the device and setting it on the low, glass-topped table in the middle of the sofa group. Retrieving the pistol, she plodded up the stairs.
She hesitated in the doorway of her room. Brilliant sunlight poured in through the open curtains, reflected off the gleaming, polished floor and the subtly tinted walls. The round bed, piled high with pillows, drew her gaze. She stared at the rumpled bedding, lost in memories. She would have to re-examine every encounter, every conversation.
In light of what she’d just learned, she’d have to give her brother a heads up. Despite all his care over the years to keep the inner workings of Redmaster Blue a secret, one of the First Sector Inner Circle’s most dangerous agents knew just about everything, thanks to her.
With a snarl, she stabbed her finger into the window controls. The heavy purple curtain whispered across the window bl
ocking out the sunlight and the view of the glistening bay.
Shadows enshrouded the room turning everything in it to gray lumps.
In the darkness, she strode into her dressing room. At her touch, the wardrobe slid open and the light inside faded on, bathing everything in a pale umber glow.
Maker, she’d made a hash of things.
Bo stripped off his undershirt and kicked the trousers aside. She pulled her spacer’s suit from the wardrobe and took her time dressing.
Had that been part of his assignment? Cultivating her, securing The Black Wing, and infiltrating Redmaster Blue? Or had the latter been a happy side benefit? How much did Lord Marin know? It was a good bet he’d already done whatever damage to the organization he could.
She sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots then reached for her gunbelt.
She doubted killing him would solve anything.
Weighted down with the Capre, she buckled it around her hips.
Who was she kidding? If their positions were reversed, he wouldn’t hesitate to take her out. Wasn’t he the one who’d drummed into her that you never leave a live enemy at your back, even a wounded one?
Her mouth tightened in a grim line. For a while, at least, her gunbelt still fit. Thank the Maker for small favors.
She snugged down the strap that held the holster to her thigh and straightened. Her impassive gaze roved over her usual weapons arrayed neatly in the hidden compartment under the lid of her dresser.
Blade Devon was the most dangerous son of a kretch she’d ever met. Only a fool would face him minimally armed.
Bo reached out and closed the lid.
Curse her for a fool then.
She was tired of fighting.
After all his assurances that he’d never hurt her, nor let any harm come to her, if that was a lie, it was one she didn’t particularly want to live with.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Now that’s a bit of luck.
Blade hurried his pace to catch the open lift, managing to slip inside just as the doors whispered shut. With his burning cigarette clamped between his lips, he passed the heavy bag of Mondhuic takeout to join the other in his left hand and fished around in the inner pocket of his jacket for his keycard. He waved it at the panel and tucked it away when it registered his floor.