Silver Tongued Devils

by Dawn Montgomery

  THE END

  Who is the mysterious Kellon and what does he want with our trio? Is he an enemy? A friend? We’ll find out July 16th in Devils’ Due.

  The Slow Grind (Short Story EXTRA)

  A Day in the Life of the Silver Tongued Devils

  By Dawn Montgomery

  For Madeline: You called it every step of the way.

  For SuperChef: The coffee addict of my dreams. Thank you for your hilarious contributions to this tale’s plotting sessions.

  Dear Readers,

  When I started this journey with Brom, Raesa, and Na’varr, I honestly had no idea I would get such a wonderful response. Sometimes we write stories with no particular audience in mind. The past few months have humbled me. You all have made me the happiest author in the world (my heart has swelled to the size of Alaska and Texas combined).

  I thought it would be interesting to take a slice out of each character’s day and show you what they go through. The first one is Na’varr. I hope you enjoy The Slow Grind as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  Happy Reading,

  Dawn Montgomery

  0245, seven hours before first dawn

  Na’varr’s captain’s quarters

  Na’varr came awake to a subtle touch on his bare forearm. Instinct took over. Without thought, he reached for the laz blade snug under his pillow.

  “It’s me, captain,” Brom said quietly and Na’varr let go of the knife handle.

  Years as a pirate captain had honed his survival instincts. Anyone, at any time, could kill you while you slept. Old habits died hard.

  At the sound of Brom’s voice, the naked woman curled against Na’varr murmured something in her sleep and snuggled closer. Where Raesa’s body pressed into his, warmth infused and drained him of the urge to wake up. Work could wait. He cupped her ass and brought his-their-lover against his morning erection. Hmmm...better.

  Brom growled low and Na’varr’s lips twitched. How long had his second in command been out of their comfortable bed? With their sexy thief molded so tight against him, it must have been a while. Brom’s body ran unusually hot, a side effect of his genetic legacy as a cat/human splice.

  “He’s contacted us. We need to move now.” Brom’s voice held the tone he reserved for duty, much different from the light hearted one he’d taken to using in their late night love sessions with Raesa.

  Of course the bastard had contacted them. Four days was more than long enough to get the parts they needed. The captain ran his hand up Raesa’s bare back with regret. Waking her would be tragedy considering how little they’d actually slept. He couldn’t resist the lingering kiss he placed on her pouting lips. At the too brief contact, she sighed. The sound reminded Na’varr of her sweet cries of pleasure. She had the loveliest voice when she screamed his name.

  He gently rolled her beneath him and brushed a few stray locks of hair away from her face. He regretted having to dye her hair while they were stranded and in hiding. She was beautiful as a brunette, but he missed the hell out of her red hair. The dusting of freckles on her nose gave Raesa a pixie appearance. Fitting considering how his fiery little ship thief kept him and Brom on their toes.

  The strain of the past few weeks on the run was apparent in the dark circles under her eyes. Laying low on this backwater rock was taking its toll on them all. He brushed his lips across her forehead with a silent promise to get them back to their mercenary ship before any other insanity shook loose and wrecked his time table any further.

  “If you stay there any longer,” Brom grumbled, “I’ll be joining you both.”

  Time’s up. Na’varr eased away from the sleeping woman and grinned at the hybrid’s cranky comment.

  “Don’t be jealous. You had her yesterday while I was on watch. Very loudly, if I recall.” He eased Raesa’s leg back under the covers.

  Brom’s slow spreading smile showed the gleam of fangs. “She’s a feisty hellcat.”

  Her enthusiastic love for both men was surprising. So was her willingness to deal with their weird hours and deadly confrontations that came with the territory for mercenaries.

  “Come on, captain. Crime waits for no man.”

  Na’varr’s post sex high vanished and he glared at the mug Brom held in his hand. “There had better be coffee in that cup, the least you could do for waking me up at this ungodly hour.”

  “No time. It’s a stim drink. He gave us an hour to get there and we’ll need to leave in ten minutes to make it on time.”

  Na’varr sighed and drew the blanket up to Raesa’s chin. He moved off the bed before snatching the robe Brom held out for him and dragged it on. One sleeve at a time, he punched his arms into the armholes and knotted the sash. “I’m really starting to hate this guy.”

  Brom smirked and dropped his gaze to their lover’s sleeping face. The hybrid stood close enough to touch Raesa, but instead he simply stared at her as if he couldn’t look away. Na’varr knew the feeling well. The captain took the rare moment to observe his second in command. Brom wore a charcoal gray full body suit that hugged his muscular body like a second skin.

  The specially made material of this clothing hid the hybrid’s body heat. At the moment it was doing very little to hide the level of excitement he sported. While Brom had always enjoyed women, Na’varr couldn’t remember a time when the former slave looked at one with so much contentment.

  “Tell me you’re going to do something about that.” Na’varr gestured toward the cat’s erection and was rewarded with a scowl.

  “Shut up and get ready.” Brom shoved the mug against Na’varr’s chest and turned from Raesa to stride across the room. The hybrid’s shoulders twitched in agitation and Na’varr laughed.

  “We need to get there early.”

  Na’varr’s good humor faded and he arched an eyebrow at Brom’s serious tone. “Know something I don’t?”

  “He’s got a shady reputation. Our recent situation has made me a little edgy.”

  A pang of guilt hit Na’varr before he shoved it away. Coming out in the public eye as the lost prince had thrust his hybrid friend in the spotlight. They’d made the choice together, but it didn’t make the transition any easier.

  “I’ll follow your lead on this one.” He downed the stim drink in one bitter gulp. The acrid taste destroyed the last bit of appetite he might have had. With a smack of his lips, he handed the cup back to Brom and went to his trunk. The hybrid set the cup down and went to their weapons storage cabinet. “Do we want to perform as the pirate captain or lost prince?”

  “Pirate captain will get us the best price.” Brom donned his usual assortment of knives and weapons with bands around his ankles, thighs, and forearms. He covered his arsenal in a black tunic and trous that hid everything from view.

  Na’varr shook his head. Sometimes the cat got way into his job. “Pirate it is, then.” He hauled out his leather tunic and overcoat. The scarlet emblem of the Crimson Star stood stark against the dark black material. “Tell me what we’re up against.”

  Brom’s voice droned on in a comprehensive briefing. Na’varr cracked a yawn and ached for the taste of a really good cup of coffee. Despite the artificial surge of energy hitting his system, he could feel the drudgery of a long day ahead of him.

  ***

  0330, six hours before the first dawn

  Outside the Naked Rooster Fine Dining and Eatery

  Na’varr eyed the neon sign promising cheap food and glanced back to the vending machine he stood by. Eerie sirens echoed in the distance. The back alley establishment was on a poorly lit and damn near deserted stretch of brick.

  Not a soul stirred this late at night. If a criminal element was active in this area, they were hiding it well.

  Fuck, I need a cup of coffee. The stim drink wouldn’t hold him for much longer. The likelihood of finding a good cup of joe in the Naked Rooster was unlikely. Vending machine it would have to be. He inserted his credit chit in the slot and selected a double infinity synthetic brew. From th
e corner of his eye, Na’varr kept the entrance and side alley in his peripheral vision.

  Brom melted from the shadows. His eyes glowed in that strange feline way before reverting to their normal color. The gray mask he used to cover the stripes on his face was in place—a simple precaution to hide his true identity.

  The cup was dispensed and Na’varr’s mouth watered for one sip of scalding coffee. “What do we know about this place?”

  “He has shitty security, no lookouts, and completely relies on cameras.” Brom’s disdain was apparent. He lowered the cloth mask and flashed fangs with one of his rare smiles. “Raesa would tear up the security in the place before they knew what hit ‘em.”

  Na’varr nodded his agreement. He wondered if she was still asleep back at the ship? After all the times he’s made her come with his mouth, fingers, and cock, she was probably still in a sex coma. Of course she’d made sure he was just as exhausted by the time they’d fallen into deep slumber. One he’d like to return to as soon as possible.

  The vending machine beeped and Na’varr sighed. He grabbed the disposable cup and took a tentative sip. The urge to spew the thick, gelatinous and grainy sludge that hit his tongue was unavoidable. What the fuck was this? Partially rehydrated horse piss?

  Brom sniffed and recoiled. His frown pulled at the corners of his lips and he pulled the mask back up over his face. It hid his expressions and the stripes on his face that they couldn’t afford to be seen. Not right now. The hybrid made a sound of disgust. “What the hell is that?”

  With sorrow Na’varr dropped the cup in the overflowing trash barrel. Black syrup ate through the plastic lining. “My dreams of a decent cup of damn coffee being shattered.”

  Brom glanced at the vending machine and shook his head. “Coffee is going to be the death of you.”

  The door to the Naked Rooster opened and Na’varr stepped out into the street. “If I don’t get some soon, it’s not my life we’re going to have to worry about. Let’s get this over with so we can get back to our thief.”

  Brom fell in line, taking his regular position at Na’varr’s right, two steps off and a pace behind.

  Na’varr trusted the hybrid with his life. But he wasn’t kidding about that damned cup of coffee.

  ***

  0455

  The Naked Rooster VIP room

  Deep, pulsing music drifted through the speakers. Smoke hazed the air despite the early morning hour. Women dressed in more glitter than clothing gyrated against the poles. Their bodies were the best a back alley cosmetic surgeon could buy, but one look at their strung-out, vacant stares told you that there was nobody home. Probably not for a while.

  “I’ve got several clients who love to use our back rooms for,” Bellamy Davies, the proprietor of the Naked Rooster, leaned close enough for Na’varr to get a full whiff of too much cologne and too little hygiene. The man’s squinty eyes sparkled with a wicked, self-satisfied glint, “you know, some personal business.” The suit he wore was obviously expensive and tailored, but for a man four or five sizes smaller than Bellamy. It was also barely wrinkled, which told Na’varr he’d donned it just before they arrived.

  Pretending indifference yet throwing out the best he can offer in entertainment and showmanship. This guy wasn’t used to dealing with people like them. The deal might be easier than Na’varr had planned.

  This was the fifth time, however, that his contact had suggested they forego business for pleasure. The VIP table was littered with trash and plates from the dinner they’d supposedly interrupted. Na’varr’s patience was at its limit and if he didn’t get a cup of coffee in the next ten minutes he was liable to murder someone.

  “You offered a drive manipulator coil, Mr. Davies. If you can’t supply it, then say so.” Na’varr adjusted his legs under the table. Beside him, Brom’s agitation was touchable, infectious, and he doubted it had anything to do with the lewd suggestions of the would-be pimp.

  A slow grin spread over Bellamy’s face, and it reminded Navarr of a snake oil salesman. If he didn’t show the coil they needed for his ship, Na’varr contemplated how much he was going to make the man hurt.

  The door to one of the back rooms opened and out stepped a leggy blonde whose clothes barely covered her ass. The tits spilling from her low cut tunic swayed as she pushed a cart in his direction. Damn. Was she even legal?

  Steam curled from one of the mugs on the tray and Na’varr inhaled. The rich scent of fresh coffee brought the first genuine smile to his face.

  “You like Carla?” The woman reached their side and Bellamy smacked her ass. To her credit, she neither flinched nor showed any outward expression. “She’s a clanker.”

  Na’varr’s eyebrows rose. An android? A robot made to look human. The pleasure editions were rare and expensive to attain. He glanced at Brom and the hybrid’s gaze flicked to the cart. “Rare and impressive, Bellamy.”

  “Of course it is. Like I said, I have what you need.”

  “Where did you get her from?”

  “I won her in a small wager with an ore baron passing through our backwater rock.” The man’s smirk died and he glared at Na’varr. “We doing business or what?”

  Brom’s expression locked down and Na’varr wished he had the same skills as the hybrid to detect lies. “My apologies for delaying you.” Na’varr gestured to Bellamy. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  The blonde tugged a cloth napkin away, revealing a reinforced box. Na’varr tensed. He didn’t have to look at his friend to know Brom was ready to move in case Bellamy had any stupid surprises.

  She opened the container. The slim design of the drive manipulator coil they needed was unmistakable. Na’varr’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. It wouldn’t pay for the little prick to know how desperate they were.

  “This is what you need, right?” The blonde handed it to Bellamy.

  Na’varr glanced at Brom and the hybrid nodded once. Before they’d entered the Naked Rooster, he’d reaffixed the gray cloth of his facemask.

  “That looks right.”

  “Excellent.” Bellamy set the coil down and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s talk price. It looks like you’re not the only one in the market for one of these babies.”

  Brom coughed lightly, telling Na’varr the prick was lying.

  “Of course we’re not.” The captain smirked. “How much are you going to try and wring out of us?”

  “Not much more than the original quote. Fifty thousand.”

  That put a nice dent in their dangerously limited funds. “What guarantee do we have that your coil is the real deal?”

  “I’m insulted, Captain Na’varr. My products are always guaranteed.” Bellamy ran his palm over the android’s ass. “I have the goods. Now where is my money?”

  “We’ll have it to you, if your product works.”

  Bellamy chuckled. “If you do that, I keep your partner until the deal goes down.”

  Tension had the burgeoning ache in Na’varr’s head sharpening into a migraine. He forced himself to relax in his chair in an indifferent pose.

  “I’ll leave you two to talk about it.” Bellamy gestured at the android and she served them both their drinks. Rich aromatic coffee drifted up to Na’varr’s nose and he bit back his sigh of contentment.

  Bellamy got up and strolled away with a too-confident grin on his face. The second their contact was out of sight, Na’varr reached for his cup of coffee, bypassing sugar for the full flavor of the java.

  “He told a lot of half-truths.” Brom spoke Arnek, the language of mercenaries.

  “Like what?”

  “He did win her.” Brom nodded toward the busty blonde standing a few feet away. “But not through a wager.”

  “What about the coil?”

  “As far as he knows, it works.”

  Na’varr nodded. “Then let’s get this deal done and over with. I need to be back to our ship and off this rock.” He took a long draw of the coffee.

  Liquid heat sc
alded his mouth and throat, but he didn’t care….not until the bitter tang of something distinctly foreign hit his tongue.

  Brom’s eyes narrowed as if he sensed something was wrong. The hybrid sniffed his cup and immediately threw the mug to the ground with a curse. Na’varr watched with a sort of detachment as his head spun. Fast poison?

  The hybrid launched at Na’varr, knocking the cup from his nerveless fingers. Na’varr’s tongue burned while a strange euphoria invaded his mind. Part of him realized he should be alarmed, but the other part of him, the one that was tired of jumping at shadows every minute of every day, welcomed this feeling with open arms.

  He was vaguely aware of being shaken. Then the blonde android grabbing his arm. Her fingers, too strong to be human, dug into his flesh as though she wanted to shatter his bones. Sweat broke out on his skin.

  Before Na’varr could react, Brom ripped the androids head off with a feline growl. With a curse, Brom hauled him to his feet. “Shake this off, captain.”

  Na’varr blinked and swayed. The part of him that always kept steel control reasserted itself. And it was pissed. “Get that bastard.” His words were spoken in a guttural command he didn’t recognize.

  The hybrid didn’t hesitate. He moved them forward through the room, to the door the coward had exited through. Brom had his blaster out and ready to fire while Na’varr still struggled with his blurred vision. What the hell had they given him?

  “He went down here.”

  “Go.” Na’varr pushed Brom off him. “Bring him to me.”

  “You got it, boss.” The feral drive of the hunt gleamed in the hybrid’s eyes.

  Na’varr’s unsteady legs made leaning against the wall necessary. The sweet ache of euphoria threatened to drown him again and he ruthlessly pushed it away.

  A human man screamed and Na’varr’s sword was drawn at the ready. He didn’t want to shoot since his hand wasn’t steady enough. The captain shook his head in an attempt to clear it.