The Huntress

by Michelle O'Leary

  "Warren, I'm going offline."

  "Do you think that's such a good idea?" He sounded worried.

  "Probably not," she murmured and then shut off the transceiver before he could respond.

  Moving without hesitation from shadow to the dimly lit street, Mea strode toward the child, deliberately taking her time. The girl didn't see her until she was within a couple of strides, but then she responded as though shot. Scrambling to her feet, she tried to step back and almost fell on the stairs. Mea halted abruptly.

  "Gently! Be careful. I didn't mean to frighten you." Her mild tone didn't seem to soothe the girl. Mea realized that they must have found out who and what she was to put that kind of fear on the girl's face. "Why are you outside by yourself?"

  "I was—I was just getting some air." Which was ridiculous, since the living quarters usually had better filters than the dome over the outpost. "How did you find us?"

  "Just good luck, I guess. I was in the neighborhood." While speaking, Mea took a slow step forward. The girl didn't run. "It's dangerous out here, child. Especially for you."

  The girl sank down into a crouch on the stairs, looking as defeated as before. "I know. I just—I just wanted to think, is all."

  Another step and Mea had reached the stairs, several feet from the child. Still no motion from the shadows.

  "About what?"

  She shrugged and then eyed the adult speculatively. Something lit her eyes and quirked her lips, making her look older than her years. "You've got a nice voice."

  Mea grinned and sank down on the steps next to her, but left a couple of feet between them. "Thanks. You shouldn't have been there to see that, though." She got another shrug. "Singing was what I was going to do before I became a hunter."

  May as well get her profession out in the open, she thought. The girl looked down and plucked at her pants nervously, but her voice was calm.

  "How come you didn't?"

  For some reason the truth just sort of fell out of her mouth. "My parents were killed by very bad men in a very bad way, right in front of me when I was about your age." Those big eyes turned back to her, a darkness within them, and Mea felt her chest tighten with an unfamiliar empathy. "I wanted to pay them back."

  "Did you?"

  "A hunter did. The same one who found me after my parents were killed."

  It had been a long time since she'd talked about this, but strangely it didn't hurt as much as it had in the past. She watched the child hug her knees.

  "Where are your parents, honey?"

  A quick look from the girl reminded her that Terrik was supposed to be her father.

  "Well, my mother—" she put emphasis on the last word "—died when I was two and my sister Kate raised me." She looked down at her knees and her knuckles went white as her grip tightened. "But Katie died on the ship."

  And here it was. Mea could tell by the tension in those narrow shoulders and the roughness of her voice that the story was at hand.

  "What ship?" she asked softly and refrained from glancing into the darkness behind her. The girl was not so disciplined and looked apprehensively into the shadows behind them before shooting a quick, nervous look at Mea.

  "Um…"

  "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

  She tugged on her earlobe in indecision, but apparently being given permission not to tell relaxed her. "Well, it's not that I don't want to. It's just hard."

  Which was the truth, but not the whole truth. Mea tried to suppress a smile as she watched the girl sort through what she should divulge and what she shouldn't.

  "My name's Reggie, by the way." An obvious stall.

  "Mea Brin. Nice to meet you. Is that short for Regina?" She couldn't stop her grin this time at the disgusted look she got from the girl.

  "Short for Regan. How'd you know I wasn't a boy?"

  Using her own tactics against her, Mea just shrugged. "It won't help you here, though. Boy or girl, you're just as tasty to these freaks."

  Regan scowled down at her feet, but said nothing to that. Mea waited patiently.

  "We were on a transport ship going to New Amber, a terraforming colony. My sister is—was a Zenobiologist." Her voice was rough again and Mea could see tears on her lashes. "Some guy—I don't know what his problem was. Maybe space sickness? I don't know, but he started killing off the passengers in their cryotubes. The ship woke up the crew, but by then most of the passengers were dead. And they couldn't stop him. He had guns and he was just—" She paused with a shudder, eyes squeezed shut. "He changed course so that we were headed into a star and then killed the ship so that it couldn't correct. The crew—what was left of them—tried to change course manually, but he started hunting us down. Kate and—and my father tried to give them time, leading him away, chasing him down, trying to kill him. But they got cornered. Katie took the shot that would have killed my father. Then he killed the guy. We got away in an escape pod, but we saw the ship go into the sun."

  The bleak tone and the tears streaming down her face made Mea's chest hurt and her breath painful. She unwisely ran a soothing hand down the girl's back. "Honey, I'm so sorry—" and was yanked to her feet by a fist knotted in her hair, knife pressed to her throat. The pain in her scalp negated any thrill she felt at not having sensed Terrik again.

  "I said, hands off."

  Hissing in pain, she arched her body to try to relieve the pressure and snarled at him. "Where the hell have you been? I could have killed her ten times over by now!"

  "Please! Don't hurt her! We were just talking—"

  "Get inside." His deep voice wasn't angry, just implacable.

  Mea could see the girl shifting uncertainly from side to side. "It's all right. He and I need to have a chat, anyway." Mea kept most of the strain out of her voice.

  The girl stayed for another second before darting away into the shadows.

  "Alone at last—" Her attempt at humor was cut off by his hand tightening in her hair.

  "How did you find us?"

  "Would you believe, I followed your trail?"

  "I don't leave trails. Try again."

  She had to get him off this line of thought before he realized that she knew who he was and forced her to bring him in. For some reason, she was even more reluctant than ever to do that. An idea occurred to her and she went with it before thinking it through.

  "I have a proposition for you—not that kind! And could you kindly leave me some scalp?"

  He relaxed his grip minutely. and she eased herself back toward him to relieve the pressure.

  "My proposition is this: You and your—daughter—could stay on my ship until you can find transport off this rock. I assume that's why you're still here."

  "Why would you do that?"

  "She told me your story. It seems only right for me to help." She eased back a bit more until her shoulder blade touched his chest, and tipped her head back slowly. "She shouldn't be out here with the masses. It's dangerous." He had relaxed his grip to the point where she could move her head and she rubbed her sore scalp against his knuckles with a sigh. "Besides, I find you both—" she turned her head to meet his gaze, "—intriguing."

  The last word came out a little strangled. This was the first time she had seen him close up, face to face and without goggles. The effect on her was devastating. His eyes were dark as velvet night and his face, although not handsome, had a strength that sent chills dancing along her skin and heat uncoiling in her abdomen. It wasn't just lust, though there was plenty of that—a deep exhilaration told her that this hunt was over. She was staring, but couldn't seem to help it, feeling as though her world was tipping precariously on axis. If souls had twins, she felt certain hers was standing a hint away, heating the very air that she breathed. When she realized that he also just stood there looking into her eyes and his warm hand now cupped the back of her head, she felt a slow smile curl her lips.

  That didn't last long.

  "Not interested," he muttered and shoved her away
from him, stepping back into the darkness. Her smile became more predatory as she turned languidly and sauntered into the dark after him. Her instincts told her he was lying—and she always followed her instincts.

  "Now, don't dismiss the idea out of hand. Think about it awhile," she murmured low in her throat.

  She could see his shadow, but not much else. He, on the other hand, could probably see her much more clearly. She let her eyes travel down and then back up as though she could see every inch of him. "I could always sweeten the deal."

  The point of his knife at her chest stopped her forward momentum. Eyeing it for a moment and then grinning up at him, she stepped to the right and began circling. "By that I mean, if you haven't found transport by the time I'm done here, I could take you myself to a destination of your choice." She was pleased to see that he didn't turn with her, just watched her. "Think about it. Good food, hot shower, soft bed…"

  On the last two words she ran a nail across the back of his neck. He reacted instantly, knocking her arm away and grabbing her throat. Slamming her up against the wall, he again held the knife to her neck. Stifling long years of training, she flowed with it and relaxed in his grip.

  "I said, not interested." Same deep, inscrutable voice—he didn't sound the least bit unnerved, but his actions said otherwise.

  She chuckled low in her throat. "All right, stubborn. If your mind is made up."

  She ran the backs of her fingers along the inside of his wrist and he immediately stepped back. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Oh, what a tasty treat you are, tiger, she thought with hungry humor. Mea headed for the stairs with what she saw as remarkable restraint, speaking over her shoulder as she went.

  "If you change your mind, my ship is the Starfire, berth twelve at the spaceport. If anyone asks, just tell them Mea Brin sent you."

  He didn't answer, but she hadn't expected him to. She waited until she was several buildings away before reactivating her transceiver. "Warren, I'm in trouble."

  Despite the humor in her voice, he reacted with alarm. "Do you need an evac?"

  "No, not that kind of trouble." She told him what had happened and what offer she had made and then laughed without restraint to hear him squawk.

  Terrik stared into the darkness. His hand still tingled from touching her and her scent lingered on his fingers. Absently he rubbed it on his thigh. Everything about that scene had been wrong. He knew instinctively that she wasn't going to hurt the kid, but he'd grabbed her anyway. Then he'd looked into those big green eyes and had been tempted—dark hair like silk between his fingers, face like an angel, smile like a devil, and a body that would make men drop to their knees—who wouldn't be tempted? Fifteen years of prison hadn't killed that in him, at least. She was a hunter, though, and he'd remembered that before he did something stupid. But he still couldn't believe she'd stalked him in the dark, her voice and the dangerous glide of her body an invitation. What was wrong with her? Maybe she knew who he was. But then, why the game?

  He shook his head and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his scalp. He understood her motives about as well as he did his own reactions to her—powerfully drawn to the one person on this rock he should be avoiding like a plague. And what kind of a dumb-ass move was pulling a blade on a hunter—twice?

  With another shake of his head he stepped into their quarters only to run into the kid, nearly knocking her over. Steadying her, he looked into her guilty face lit by the screen on the door. "Eavesdropping?" He kept his voice mild.

  She gestured in disgust at the screen. "No audio. I only saw what happened."

  He stepped past her without further comment and keyed the bed to drop out of the wall. That left about a foot of space to maneuver around the room. He jerked his thumb at it and Regan folded her arms, eyeing him with an expression he didn't like.

  "She's still not afraid of you."

  Scowling, he sat against the wall next to the door. "Go to sleep, kid."

  Chapter 3

  About forty-eight standard hours later, Regan tried to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible as she watched Terrik talk to a spacer. She didn't think it was going too well, since the guy kept shaking his head. They were only about ten paces away from her, but she still felt uneasy. Terrik had taken to bringing her with him when he went in search of transport since someone had tried to break into their quarters.

  She felt depression slide over her again. If he didn't have her dragging him down, he'd have been out of here by now. She wondered for the millionth time if she should just run away and let him get on with it. She was pretty sure he was only taking care of her for Katie, because she'd saved his life. Never mind that Regan followed him around like a lost puppy. But she didn't have anywhere to go and she wanted to be with him. Was that so bad?

  "At least you're wearing my cloak this time."

  Regan jumped a foot to hear Mea behind her.

  "No, no, don't turn around. I wouldn't want him over here brandishing his knife again."

  The dry humor in the woman's tone surprised a laugh out of her and she muffled it with one hand guiltily.

  Then Mea's voice turned serious. "I have some bad news. The portmaster got suspicious over your escape pod and ran a genetic trace of the contents. He found out who you two are and has called the authorities. They are sending another hunter for Terrik."

  Regan slowly turned to look up at Mea, feeling like she'd just been dipped in ice. The hunter was a shadow among shadows, leaning against the wall with the nonchalance of a cat on the prowl. She should have scared Regan witless, but the woman's expression was gentle, eyes concerned.

  "Y-you know who we are?"

  "Yes, baby, I've always known." A little smile tipped her lips and she touched a quick finger to the end of Regan's nose. "The other hunter will be here in another half day at most. I need you to give Terrik a message. Tell him the offer is still open."

  "What offer?"

  But Mea's smile disappeared as she looked past her. Turning, Regan saw Terrik moving towards them, but when she looked around again, the hunter was gone.

  "What did she want?" he asked calmly, but didn't pause in stride.

  She scurried to keep up with him. "We've got trouble. She knows who we are!"

  He didn't seem the least bit surprised, not even slowing down.

  "She says there's another hunter on the way, coming for you. She says her offer is still open."

  That stopped him. He stared down at her for a long moment, face expressionless. She couldn't see his eyes because he was wearing his goggles and that blank stare made her squirm.

  "What offer, Terrik?"

  He still said nothing, turning his head slowly to stare into the dimness. Regan felt a cold knot form in her stomach.

  "What offer?" she whispered.

  He took her by the back of the neck and propelled her forward without replying. They walked for a while before she realized that they weren't going back to their quarters.

  "Where are we going?"

  He didn't answer, looking more remote than she'd seen him since the ship. The cold knot grew. Something was very wrong. Eventually, they entered the spaceport and stopped close to a large sleek, silvery ship.

  "That's her ship. Go."

  She felt her heart squeeze painfully in her chest.

  "Without you?" she whispered. He said nothing, just folded his arms. "You're just going to throw me to the hunter?"

  "She won't hurt you."

  "I know that, but I want to be with you. I—I…"

  He shoved her roughly toward the ship. The sight of him rippled as tears started streaming down her face.

  "Just go, kid. I'm gonna have a hunter on my ass and you'll just slow me down." He turned away, but she went after him.

  "But I can help! I can—"

  "Don't you get it?" he snarled, turning on her so fast she almost fell. "I'm sick of draggin' you around! I only put up with your dead weight because your sister took my hit. You're just lucky I h
aven't sold your ass for transport."

  He left and she watched him go, collapsing to the ground. Sobbing as though her heart was breaking, she curled up in a ball. First her sister and now Terrik. Her life seemed to be an ever-widening pool of misery and she fervently wished it would all just end.

  Some time later, strong hands lifted her up. She didn't fight as she was carried away—didn't even bother to see who had her. She told herself that she didn't care anymore what they did to her, but she winced as bright lights stung her eyes. Looking around, she blinked dazedly. They were in a ship. Curiosity got the best of her, bringing her out of dark misery.

  The man who carried her placed her gently down on a soft bed and then stepped back. He was tall and slim, his hair brown and his eyes kind.

  "Where— Who—"

  "I'm Warren. I believe you know Mea. This is her ship."

  Regan sat up slowly, wiping her face.

  "Her…ship?" she asked in a tiny voice.

  "Yes. She said if you came to make you comfortable. The sanitary's through there and the mess is just down the hall. I'll be making lunch, so just follow your nose." He winked easily at her and left.

  Regan looked around in wonder. The room was pretty large for ships quarters, the bed huge and soft. The whole room smelled clean and wonderful. She touched the coverlet and then pulled her hand back, the contrast between the clean cloth and her dirty hand making her aware of her own grunginess. She wrinkled her nose as she smelled herself and then got up to head directly to the sanitary.

  Cleaning up was almost a religious experience, like waking up from a nightmare. The hot water shower was a welcome change from sonic and putting her clothes on again, clean and sweet smelling from the sanitizer, almost made her cry. She had forgotten what these normal, ordinary actions were like.

  When Regan stepped back into the bedroom, her stomach growled violently as a delicious smell filled her nostrils, bringing her attention in sharp focus on a different need. She dove out into the corridor, nearly staggering in her eagerness to reach the mess hall. Warren was spooning something into a bowl when she entered.