by Kim Knox
Yes, she was probably as insane as him.
“So,” she stretched and flexed her fingers, “shall we go?”
Ramius cursed. It had all seemed so simple in his detention cell. Find a petty criminal—the Jovian colonies swarmed with them—and use their tech savvy to get him to the outer governor. He had not bargained on Melissa Chance. She’d slid under his skin and hell, he wanted to be the man she needed. He could live with that man, not the monster Chloe had created. He bit back further curses. Fuck, his focus, his loyalties, were shot.
Chance still stared up at him, waiting for the go-ahead. Her clear, dark gaze held him, expectant, unafraid. He shoved his hands in his pockets to resist the temptation to stroke her cheek, to let his thumb run over her bottom lip. Her taste, her need for him, tugged hard…but he shoved it back. Chance was a luxury he couldn’t have.
He had no choice but to put her in danger, and it stabbed a spike in his gut. “Do it,” he said.
The broad, flat curve of the lights over his head surged, the light dazzling. The low thrum of the activating tech flowed around him, brushing against his senses, but not strong enough for him to grip and manipulate himself.
He sank down next to Chance, keeping a distance between them. The gentle stream easing against his thoughts told him they were moving. Nothing else did. He sank back into the moulding comfort of the seat and tried not to remember how such luxury had once been his life. He glanced at Chance, finding her with her eyes shut, her chest rising and falling with slow, deep breaths. Sometimes she looked too young…
“Have you finished ogling?”
Ramius held down a groan. She was in complete control of the ship, and that meant the internal feed. He should be glad she misinterpreted his staring at her, mistaking it for lust, not regret. “Maybe,” he murmured.
One eye opened and peered at him. She smirked. “Then I should return the favour.”
“How much concentration does piloting this tube need?”
Her smirk deepened. “Why, did you have something else in mind?”
“Chance…”
“You know I like you naked.”
Ramius bit back a smile. “Yes, I’d noticed.” His eyes narrowed. “You think of it often.”
Her gaze slid slowly down his body then back up, always with that speculative smile curving her lips. “What am I thinking right now?”
Ramius sucked in a quick breath. He could almost feel her mouth, her tongue against his chest, the wet heat of it slipping over his abdomen. He winced as his dick throbbed, straining against the thick material of his trousers. Damn, she could get him hard fast. He willed shields to thicken against her—even as he wanted to sink back into the couch and let her mind-fuck him—and pinched at the bridge of his nose. “Something inappropriate?”
Chance laughed. “You think?”
“I know.”
“Just making certain…”
She wanted to make a claim on him as hers, he knew that. Then there was her underlying need for someone to hold her, to love her unconditionally, and it slipped fast, sharp through his protected thoughts. He resisted the lure of it. Chloe had never wanted anything from him, only his complete loyalty. He’d been a fool to devote himself to her. He knew that…but he couldn’t help it. Her strength of will had caught and bound him. Ramius held down a wince. She still held him.
He turned his attention back to Chance. “So it’s obvious you don’t need to devote much of your brain to piloting this thing.”
“It’s very smooth, easy to manipulate.” A thoughtful smile curved her mouth. “I don’t usually get much of a chance to interact with quality tech. It’s…nice.”
“How long—” The sun-symbol screen covering the end wall flared into life, marking the route, speed and time of arrival at the governor’s residence. Ten minutes. His chest tightened, and the familiar surge of Chloe’s imperative covered his thoughts. He breathed, needing to loosen the tension. It had never been so constrictive. He glanced at the woman next to him, flopped on the body-hugging couch, her eyes shut and that small, happy smile still lifting her lips. After this was over. The promise eased him. Soon his old life would be over in a way he’d never anticipated.
Chance’s slow groan broke into his thoughts, bringing him back from fantasy to the hard reality of the present. The smile faded from her mouth. She sat up and scratched her fingers through the short tangle of hair. “They’re waiting for us in the terminal.”
“We knew that.”
She paused. “I suppose.” Chance pushed herself to her feet and brushed down the front of the silk shirt. She sucked in a deep breath, moving away from the couch. Nerves ate at her…and that made him uneasy. “You should make yourself ready. Weapons and,” she waved a finger vaguely at her skull, “your invisibility thing.”
His instincts flared. There was something she wasn’t telling him. “Chance, what’s waiting for me in the residence?”
She laughed. Nothing blatant jumped out at him, but he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was hiding information. “What you expected. A shitload of men armed to the teeth.”
“And…?”
She stared back at him and her brow furrowed. “And nothing. I hole up in here and you glide in a vague and mysterious way between the guards.” She glanced to the Etuis beside him. “I’m not kidding. Get ready. We’re pulling into the terminal. Right now.”
Chance rubbed her hands together, wanting to ignore the itch in her fingertips. She’d lied to Ramius…and he’d sensed it. Her stomach cramped. She couldn’t tell him the truth. The information washed over her thoughts, thickened as the carriage tube slowed to a stop. They were waiting for him, a whole fucking battalion of men, with shield-piercing heavy artillery targeted on the tube.
She had a plan. Not much of one, and she told herself it was a selfish one. Her gut twisted tighter. Somehow, she couldn’t make herself believe it. Damn it, she hated this…this…connection she wanted with Ramius. It screwed with her ordered reality.
The mechanism buried in the frame of the tube groaned, and Chance sucked in a quick breath. She closed down her implant and glanced back to Ramius, finding her gaze sliding away. Good. He was ready. The door eased back and the scent of metal and men rolled into the carriage.
All right. Time to be selfish.
Chance strode towards the door, her hands lifting. Her heart beat hard and a trickle of sweat stuck her shirt to her spine. Seemed like she was really going to do this—
Ramius grabbed her arm, yanking her back to the curve of the leather-lined wall. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m giving myself a chance.” She tugged her arm free and glared at him. Time to not exactly lie. Again. “They’re going to obliterate this carriage. The option of me hiding out in here is nonexistent.”
Ramius’ mouth thinned. “I should have known…”
He cupped her jaw and Chance jerked back against the cool leather of the wall. He couldn’t possibly be about to— His mouth dipped to hers. The soft brush of his lips flowed a warm heat down to her toes, and Chance sighed, opening her mouth to him. He deepened the kiss, melting it into something that made her clutch at the thick material of his uniform. His fingers slid into her hair and he crushed her to him. He tasted…she couldn’t help the soft little moan that escaped her…he tasted hot and sweet and just everything, everything she wanted.
With a groan, she willed herself to pull away, licking her lips to find his lingering taste. She hated that she had to deny one final time with him…and from the heat in his gaze and his unsteady breathing, he would’ve done something he vowed never to do. Taken her fast and hard up against a wall.
She sucked in a quick breath, wanting to purge that image and the hot rise of need in her flesh. She backed away from him one agonising step at a time. “Time to go. Good luck, Ramius.”
“I can obscure you—”
“No, you can’t.” She knew she was the distraction that would give Ramius his opportun
ity to get to West and end Chloe’s hold over him. Only then would she have any chance of an “after” with him. Well, she could call that selfish. In a way. Chance worked a smile across her mouth. “I’m cute. They don’t shoot cute.”
Ramius gave a soft laugh. “No, they don’t.” His fingers stroked over her cheek before he wrapped his hands around his weapon and primed it. The soft whine filled the carriage. “See you soon.”
Her eyes narrowed on him and she ignored the thud of her heart. She wagged a finger at him. “You’d better.”
Chapter Ten
She turned to the open door and lifted her hands again, ignoring the mortifying need she had to hug him. Time to see if her distraction worked…and didn’t get her shot. “I’m coming out!” She stepped onto the smooth marble of the platform and couldn’t help the wince, or the need to hunch her shoulders.
Primed weapons swung towards her in a sound wave of metal and creaking leather uniforms. Chance stared at too many wide barrels aimed at her head. She swallowed, her throat dry. “Hello?” She forced a grin over her mouth and it felt like a grimace. The terminal arched high above her, lined with expensive and gleaming white marble. Governmental banners glittered gold. And there were soldiers, soldiers everywhere. “I’m surrendering.”
“Where’s John Ramius?” A captain edged out of the crowd of his men, his Etius-90 fixed on her chest. Like all of the Jovian troops, he was tall, muscled and grim. Just the sort of man the psychs knew she loved to fuck. With her implant shut to the stream, she couldn’t be certain, but it was almost certain they were monitoring her. So she had to perform. A line creased his forehead at her delay. “Is he in the tube?”
Chance gave him a quick smile, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “First can I say how happy I am to see you all?” Her smile grew and she tilted her head. She softened her voice. “Really glad.”
“Ramius.”
The captain strode toward her, and she bit her lip, willing excited heat into her cheeks. She had to be the woman they thought she was. He leaned over her, and Chance lifted her chin, her gaze focusing on the thin line of his mouth. He stank of hot leather and gun oil and then he pressed the hard, cold tip of the gun barrel under her chin.
“Where is he?” The tip dug into her flesh, and she held down a wince. A nasty smirk cut across his lips. “Did he get tired of fucking you and throw you out to us?”
“Hey, as far as I know he’s still in the shipyards. Got me to jack the tube.” She shrugged and hated the way the weapons followed the slight shift of her shoulders. “If I were him, I’d be long gone.”
The captain gave her a cold smile. “You’re not him, sweetheart.” He pointed to two men, who surged forward and took her arms in tight, gloved hands. Chance didn’t resist. “Take her to Governor West.”
So…not shot straight away. Her slippered feet slid over the cool marble, barely touching the floor as the men hauled her past the assembled troops. She resisted the need to crane her head back, to see if she could catch Ramius leaving the tube. Her lie said he’d never entered the carriage…and she had to maintain that façade. Instead, she glanced up at her captors. Hard muscle defined them, straining under their tight leather uniforms to bunch on their clenched jaws. Their helmets masked the rest of their faces.
She should try to be the irritating flirt with the men arresting her. But her normal obsession with sex seemed to have slid into the background…and it was staying there. Even the attempt to flirt with the captain had fallen flat. Hell, she was an expert at playing men. It had kept her alive in the past and that meant she had real skill.
Chance told herself it had everything to do with fear of meeting West. His reputation ran before him. He was insane. Her lack of interest in the men dragging her away had nothing to do with her fear for Ramius. Nothing at all.
“Lucky Chance.” Ishaan West pushed himself out of his heavy chair, the thick leather creaking. He let out a slow breath and his dark gaze travelled over her, narrowing as it reached her face. “Feeling lucky now?”
Artificial light from the slanted wall of thick glass washed over the wide room. On the wall behind his desk, a vast tapestry of the sun caught the light, gold and silver threads gleaming. Yes, the damn image had shrouded her since her escape from the detention base. The rest of the room was empty of any other furniture and Chance, her implant still closed, wondered whether there were other exits besides the double doors behind her. But she was not opening her chip. Not to this man.
“Ah, you’ve locked your implant.” A smile lifted his mouth and the shadows cut from the light sharpened his face. He was classically handsome, but still something about him, about his too-smooth voice, prickled her skin. “I have no interest in hacking your brain. Where would be the fun in that? No.” His gaze slipped over her body again and a shiver coursed through her. “I prefer to experience my pleasures in the flesh.”
Chance’s gut squeezed. All right, not what she wanted to hear right then.
The governor strode towards her, his boots silent in the ornately-patterned rug. Images of him had ridden across her implant for over a year. The self-glorified Sun King. Slick, concerned…but the rumours persisted and, well, people often simply…vanished. She’d never wanted to meet him in person. Ever.
West nodded to the soldiers, who broke their meaty grip on her arms, and Chance stumbled, catching herself before she hit the thick carpeting. She straightened, smoothing her hands over her rumpled shirt and not wanting to notice that they shook. “That’s nice for you.”
She jumped as the doors shut behind her. The guards had vanished too.
“You think John Ramius is going to save you from me?”
Chance held his gaze, willing her heart into an even rhythm. Sweat stuck her shirt to her back; still, she had to cling to her sense of bravado. “You or the Butcher? I really do live up to the irony of my name.”
“Yes, you do.” West stopped in front of her. He stroked his hand over her hair, teasing locks through his fingers. “And really, you’re nothing compared to Chloe Van Der Zee.”
“Who?”
West smiled, something smooth, knowing. “As if he didn’t talk about her.” A finger traced along her jaw and dread settled in her stomach. Rumours also ran through the lower streams about the outer governor’s…appetites. Chance clamped down hard against those memories. “It’s his compulsion. He followed the woman around like an adoring puppy. His adoration of her turned him into a psychopathic killer.” His smile deepened as his hand slipped to cover her throat, long fingers lightly squeezing. Chance sucked in a quick breath, she couldn’t help it, and her face flushed. “That was until I cut her throat and drank her blood.” His soft laughter surrounded her. “I enjoyed it so much, I think I’ll have to do it again. Just to see the look on his face.”
“Ramius isn’t here—”
“He’s here.” His fingers eased their grip. “I set this up, for him to meet you. Someone who could get him to me.”
“Me?” The word was little more than a squeak. What was he talking about?
“Melissa Chance.” His free hand swept over empty air and the familiar cyber-generated newsreader filled the shape of a sun.
“Battalion Commander West returned to Europa today victorious from leading the raid on Amalthea, where a small band of thief families had holed up.” A stream of him striding down the ramp of a wide transport and handing his weapon to a waiting sergeant filled the sun-shape. Blood still splattered his battle gear, coated his face and matted his dark hair. “West requested and received from Outer Governor Lamont the authorised use of lethal force. This is the first use of this new legislation. Outer Governor Lamont has declared a war on those who seek to corrupt the use of their implants…”
Amalthea. Chance’s stomach turned over and she almost gagged, West’s fingers still tight around her throat. The tiny moon on which she’d been born. She stared as a soldier marched a small, white-blonde girl down the ramp in West’s wake. She wore a thin sl
ip and blood covered her arms and legs. Her heart pounded. That couldn’t be…
“Melissa Chance, aged nine, will benefit from psychological reconditioning.”
It was. It was her. Captured. But she had no memory of escaping the horror of their dome. She remembered only the terror of being curled in a ball, as her family lay butchered around her. She blocked it, blocked everything from her mind. She remembered breaking out of a juvenile base at thirteen. Her life before that was a blur.
West had brought her to Europa. West had murdered her family.
She ripped her gaze away from the transmission, glaring at the man, hating him, her veins filled with fire. It took everything in her not to dig her fingers in his smug face. Ramius would kill him, and she, she would smile. Yes, that thought tamped down on her wild surge of emotions. The game-face of a thief settled across her features.
“That doesn’t explain why me.”
“You hate me for what I did.” West waved his hand and the gleam of the transmission faded and died until there was only empty air again. “I had to have someone who would reinforce Ramius’ need to kill me.”
Satisfaction gave her a bitter warmth. “I didn’t know.”
West’s dark eyes narrowed on her and his fingers tightened. Heat swelled in her cheeks and her heart hammered. Pain lanced, her lungs struggling for air against a blocked windpipe. “What?”
“They obviously…” She swallowed and dragged in a brief burst of air. “Reconditioned it out of my head.”
His mouth thinned and his hand dropped away from her throat. “My killing your family was icing.” A gleam lit his dark eyes, as if daring her to strike out at him, but Chance pushed down her growing need to dig her nails into his cheeks. “Your tech skills and your…appetite, obviously worked well enough.”
Chance pressed her hands to her throat, wanting to ease the raw pain. “My appetite?”