by Loren Rhoads
Measured footsteps crossed the stone floor toward him. He was tempted to drop to the floor, curl up into the smallest possible ball, and make himself invisible. But part of him knew who belonged to those boots and Sloane would be damned if he’d cower in front of him.
Something slammed into his stomach. Excruciating pain followed, radiating out from the blow. It crawled over his flesh like a thousand insects, gnawing into him. He groaned, staggered, but kept his feet.
Another punch landed against his back. Either Thallian had moved around him or there were two of them. The pain intensified exponentially. Sloane felt his resolve slipping.
The third blow hit him slightly off-center just below the collarbone.
Then Raena was kissing him, strong hands at the back of his neck, directing his mouth to meet her lips. Her naked body pressed hard into his. It didn’t take the pain away, but it transformed it. He clutched her waist and began to fuck her as hard and deeply as he could.
“Is he awake?” Ariel asked, horrified. What was she doing in the cave, Sloane wondered. She couldn’t be working with Thallian, too.
“Not really,” Raena answered, which didn’t make sense to him. Was she reading his mind? Answering his thoughts?
“Don’t you mind that he . . . ?” Ariel asked, vastly creeped out by the situation.
He felt Raena’s shrug. “Gavin,” she said with exaggerated sweetness, “wake up. It was a nightmare. It’s over now.”
He grasped the ends of the dream, the fear and anger and pain and shame and lust, but that was leaching away now. His hips moved slower, in consequence. Raena slid against him, almost regretfully, enough to make him open his eyes.
Ariel had turned on the light and was staring at the two of them. Raena smiled at him, amused and not at all offended. Gavin shuddered and dragged himself off of her. “Somebody get me a drink,” he begged.
Ariel turned her back on him to take care of it.
“You didn’t have to stop,” Raena said gently.
“Yes, I did,” Gavin replied. He huddled at the edge of the bed, taking the glass gratefully when Ariel delivered it. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, for which he was glad. He drank a healthy belt of the whiskey and wished he could wash the memory away.
“It’s hours ’til morning,” Ariel pointed out.
“Go back to sleep,” Gavin said. “I’m sorry. I—”
“It was a nightmare,” Raena repeated. Gavin couldn’t shake the certainty that she knew he’d been dreaming about Thallian, about being beaten by Thallian. Still, she lay down on the mattress again and snuggled back into Ariel’s arms. With the blanket tucked up under her chin, she looked for all the world like a contented cat.
Gavin remembered how hot she’d been as he’d been fucking her. Was that in the dream or had that been real? She was so wet and ready, so receptive and eager . . . Did she know he was being tortured in the dream, that she was helping Thallian abuse him? Had he moaned in his sleep? Had his arousal woken her?
He sucked down another mouthful of whiskey, then got up to turn off the light. At least the girls should be able to sleep. Anyway, he wanted to be closer to the bottle.
* * *
A planet with no weapons: what a perfect place for a killer to hide. Revan stood at the hatch of his transport, staring out into the morning bustle of the passageways at the spaceport. Somewhere in this city of millions, Raena Zacari was hiding. Or perhaps she was not even trying to hide. Maybe she was busy enjoying herself. Flying playfully with makeshift wings and disrupting games that others were betting on, filming, beaming across the galaxy on news feeds. She was here, taking full advantage of the pleasure planet, safe within a society that would not allow her hunters to bring their tools.
Revan turned away from the busy port to watch the men racking their sidearms in a locker by the door. “Bring the nets,” he told them, “and the sleep canisters. No edged weapons. If we draw blood, planetary security will crash down on us. We don’t have time to sort that out.” Besides, while it wouldn’t have been Revan’s preference, Jonan wanted her as undamaged as possible.
Revan strode down the internal corridor to check the cramped cell built into the transport’s small cargo hold. Bunk, restraints: what more would Zacari need? The room smelled searingly of disinfectant. Revan debated with himself, then switched on the air exchangers. While he might prefer to punish her for all the trouble they’d gone to, all the time they’d spent away from home searching for her, he couldn’t afford to have her complain to Jonan about the treatment she’d received.
“Uncle Revan,” Jain called from the exterior hatch, “we’re ready.”
Revan nodded. Let this go well, he prayed, and be done quickly. He ached for home.
* * *
Raena insisted on a large breakfast. She led Ariel and Gavin back to the restaurant at the top of the cliff, overlooking the ocean. Her friend, the boy with the excessive facial hair, was working again this morning. Ariel watched them exchange nothing more than nods. Had they slept together the night they’d spent chasing around the city? Raena would surely tell her if she asked. Ariel wondered why she wanted to know. Was she looking for evidence that Raena had cheated on them? What difference would it make?
“Heard anything from your kids?” Gavin asked, in what felt to Ariel like the galaxy’s most awkward segue. Like she wanted now to be reminded that Raena’s boyfriend was young enough to be one of her brood.
Seeing no way to dodge the question, Ariel answered, “No. They know to contact me only if there’s an emergency. They’re hidden, at least as well as they can be.”
“How many children do you have?” Raena asked, tearing off a hunk of injera and wrapping it around a handful of meat.
It felt odd that they hadn’t had this conversation sooner. “Fifteen,” Ariel said. “The oldest is 27 . . . 28 this year.”
“I haven’t been gone that long,” Raena scoffed. “You’ve been busy.”
“They were orphans,” Ariel corrected. “War orphans. I found them after the purges were done and took them in. Bought them out of slavery when I needed to. My family could afford it, certainly owed it to the galaxy. I figured there was no sense in having a lot of infuriated children growing up, hating everything that wasn’t human in the galaxy, and looking to take revenge. I did what I could to give them other futures.”
Raena didn’t respond, preoccupied with some thought that Ariel couldn’t guess. Ariel turned the question around to Gavin and asked, “Heard from any of your kids?”
He snorted, but didn’t look up from the mound of food on the communal plate. “If any of them knew where I was, they’d turn me in. Who can blame them? None of them have spoken to me in years.”
“I’ve never gonna breed,” Raena vowed. “Can you imagine an army of little me’s?”
Ariel knew what she was thinking of and choked on a mushroom.
* * *
After breakfast, Ariel proposed a walk through the old market quarter. Sloane should have known that eventually he would get dragged along on a shopping excursion.
He trailed along after the girls. He half-expected Raena to shoplift, just to prove to herself she could still get away with it, but she kept her hands clasped demurely behind her back.
* * *
Revan launched the attack while the trio shopped in the souk. High walls lined the narrow streets of the market, making the area like a canyon. He stationed men on both outlets with Jain in the middle. It should have been textbook.
One minute Sloane and the two women were eyeing exotic fruits stacked under silver-shot canopies. The next, a soldier dressed in nondescript black livery had grasped the blond’s arm and tried dragging her away. She lost a precious moment fumbling for the gun that no longer hung at her thigh.
Sloane turned after her, right into another assailant’s fist. Sloane staggered into a wall and slid to the dirt.
Raena Zacari spun into her own attacker’s grip on her arm and brought the heel of her free hand up har
d under his chin. Still turning, she pulled him off balance and used his body to take the blow aimed at her by his accomplice.
Revan would have bet money she would run as soon as the first assault failed. Instead, she dropped the man with the busted jaw and leapt onto the next man. In a movement as economical as poetry, she had broken his arm and several of his ribs, then vaulted over him as he dropped so she could come to the aid of the grave-robber Sloane.
Sloane’s attacker didn’t even know the girl was coming. Jumping onto his back like a fury, she twisted his head sharply enough to snap his spine, then turned to deal with the man dragging the blond woman away. Less than a minute had passed, and already three of his soldiers were down. Only one was dead, which was a problem. Revan could leave no one behind who might identify the family. He returned his macroscope to its pocket and began climbing down the ladder to the street.
* * *
Jain lurked in the shadows of the market with the net, waiting for their quarry to be alone long enough that he could fling it onto her.
Instead, she was too fast. She moved from one man to the next efficiently, dropping one with a scorpion kick and the next with a roundhouse punch. Her small stature made her tricky for the larger men to grab. The high-heeled boots she wore proved lethal. Most unnerving of all, she laughed through the whole attack, as if it was the most fun she’d had in years.
Time stopped. Her gaze found Jain in the shadows. Her insectile black sunglasses locked on him. And she smiled.
“He’s just a boy!” the blond woman screamed. Raena Zacari stalked toward Jain, sleek as a big cat in her ridiculous parrot blue beach dress. Clearly, she hoped to spook Jain into running, just so she could give chase.
“Come on,” Jain told her or meant to. His voice made no sound that he heard.
Then a smoking canister dropped at her feet. Others rained down around her. Jain remembered to reach down and pull his mask up from under his chin.
The girl leaned into a sprint. Uncle Revan bulled after her. They came at Jain so fast he couldn’t do anything more than raise the net. His back wedged painfully into the corner of the wall.
Zacari wound her fists in the sparking net and yanked hard. She hauled it out of Jain’s surprised fingers and whirled, catching Revan upside the head with it. One of her hands snapped out backwards, slapping Jain back against the wall. Then her attention focused on Revan, tangled in the arcing net, as the boy blinked away stars.
She tugged on the edge of the net and sent Revan to the dirt. Then she turned a cartwheel after him and brought the toe of her boot down hard on his throat. Revan didn’t get up. She snatched the mask off his face and held it over her own nose. For the first time in the fight, Jain thought she seemed to be breathing hard.
Bending down, she scooped up one of the sleep canisters with her spare hand. Then her head came up, sunglasses fixed again on Jain. This time he did run.
They’d left the jet-bikes parked on a rooftop in the next street. If he could just get there, he could get back to the ship and retrieve the weapons. This could be salvaged. He could still capture her.
Sirens blared through the souk. A mechanical voice boomed, “This is Kai City Security. We have noted an altercation. All parties, stand down. All parties, stand down.”
People, frozen in place to watch the fight, now panicked and began to flee. Jain ran with them. He didn’t look over his shoulder to see Zacari taking down the first of the security drones with a well-aimed sleep grenade.
* * *
Hunched over the jet-bike’s handlebars, Jain wove between the buildings. Even at speeds that tore tears from his eyes, he had too much time to think. Over and over he remembered how the girl had stomped down on Uncle Revan’s throat. Jain had no doubt his uncle was dead, but he couldn’t understand how that happened. Just one little woman against eight of his father’s handpicked men.
He recognized some of her movements as she’d worked through the soldiers. His father had clearly trained her. That should have made her easier to defeat—especially for Revan—because they should have known what she was going to do. They’d simply been unprepared to see her do it so fast.
Jain couldn’t believe his uncle was dead. It made no sense. Revan had been around Jain’s whole life, a calm implacable presence when his father was volatile and dangerous. Jain had respected Revan with an affection he’d never voiced. He felt hollowed by the loss.
A flicker of movement in his rearview mirror caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder to see Zacari on a jet-bike behind him. This time she wasn’t smiling. She’d stretched out over the bike, urging more speed from it. They were too far apart for Jain to hear her voice, but her lips said, “Watch out!”
He glanced ahead just in time to see a Templar spire coming up fast. He wrenched his bike left. He nearly lost control of it, going into a spiral that almost sent him into another spire. He eased off the throttle a little, aglow with adrenaline, and fought the bike for control.
He had to get back to the Raptor. If he got there first and slipped through the security in record time, he could get a stun rifle. He could take her off the bike. As long as she didn’t break her neck in the fall, he’d be okay. Once she was stunned, he could carry her onto the Raptor, get her off of the planet, and go home. If he killed her . . .
The thought chilled him. He decided that he had to believe that his father would want him back more than he wanted this psychopath in custody. His father would want to know what had happened to Uncle Revan. He would understand that Jain did what he could, but in the end, he’d had no choice. It was kill or die.
* * *
From above, the spaceport looked like a maze, but Jain finally spotted the dock where they’d left Uncle Revan’s Raptor. Jain zoomed down toward the dock, decelerating rapidly as he dropped, and locked up the brakes just before he hit the dirt. He vaulted off the bike and rolled to his feet. The pursuing bike’s engine whined louder as she closed in on him.
Struggling to unbutton his gloves, Jain ran up the ramp to the Raptor’s door. Finally he got his hand bared. He slapped his palm down on the security screen and stared into the camera, impatient for it to identify him.
The other bike slammed into the roof of the dock next door. The jet-bike’s fuel tank exploded in a fireball. Debris rained down around Jain. Claxons roared as the fire suppression robots rushed to work.
Good. Maybe she was dead through no fault of Jain’s. The sense of relief that flooded through him nearly unstrung his knees.
“Jain Thallian,” the security computer said in recognition.
As the hatch irised open, Zacari swung down from the transport’s roof. She jabbed Jain hard with a stun stick that she must have taken from a Security drone.
The stun stick’s charge knocked him into the ship. She followed him in. Fighting the stun, every nerve firing out of order, Jain scrabbled weakly, trying to get his feet under him.
Standing over him, the woman touched the communicator bracelet on her left wrist. “I’m in,” she said. “There’s a fire in the next bay over, so dodge the fire suppression crew. I’ll leave the door open for you.”
Jain didn’t hear any response.
“What are you going to do?” he whispered.
She smiled as she reached down to haul him to his feet. “Take you home, little boy.”
CHAPTER 11
Kavanaugh tuned into the fight kind of late. Raena had been with Ariel and Sloane all morning, so he’d stopped monitoring them and gone off to poke through the news feeds, checking to see how Thallian’s goons had been occupying themselves. While Kavanaugh didn’t want to find out any more of his men had been slaughtered, it made him nervous to have lost track of the killers. They’d been quiet since Lim’s death.
While he was distracted, the local news went wild. Kavanaugh hurried to switch channels. There had been a fight down in the tourist market. All planetary security had been mobilized. At least four humans were dead.
Kavanaugh’s
hands flew over the computer as he flipped through the local news sites. He wanted one with video.
What he found was nothing compared to what he’d seen in the War. Seven bodies in black uniforms lay strewn across a cramped market street, with barely a splash of blood visible. It was hardly horrifying for Kavanaugh, but for Kai, which had known little violence since the War, this could well have been the worst incident in decades.
Details about the participants remained sketchy. Seven men and a boy had attacked a small party of tourists. A grainy security cam meant for catching shoplifters provided low-res footage of Ariel getting grabbed as Sloane was decked. Fascinated, Kavanaugh watched Raena wipe out her kidnappers. She didn’t waste a single step. Never hesitated. Just as she’d done inside the tomb on the Templar tombworld, she worked from one man to the next, removing their threats to her. In this case, she wasn’t as gentle as she’d been with the grave robbers.
The tape ended with a rain of sleep grenades. Pale blue smoke shrouded the scene.
The news site reported that several people had been taken into custody. Others were hospitalized. No one was being identified as of yet.
With shaking hands, Kavanaugh signed into the tracking program. He found Raena already inside the port complex, coming his way at something faster than a run. They must have hired or stolen some sort of transportation.
He tried to reach Ariel, but the call went unanswered. Kavanaugh set the engines to warm up, then rushed to pick up the possessions he’d scattered around the cockpit. Once the images of Raena hit the galactic news, she’d need to be elsewhere. The party on Kai was over.
Reasonably satisfied that he’d cleaned up enough to return the racer to its rightful owner, Kavanaugh went back to stand by the hatch. He checked the charge on his gun and made certain that it sat easy in its holster. Who knew what would be following them?
He didn’t have to wait long to find out. A battered lone jet-bike hummed into the dock. Raena swung her leg off of the bike and strode toward the ship, definitely unhurried.