Sabine perked up even as her heart began to fling itself against her ribcage. “Akio is here?”
Ashur nodded. “Uh-huh. So, do you like Eve’s baby?”
Sabine frowned until Ashur indicated the simulation around them.
“How does it compare to the one on High Tortuga?”
Sabine shrugged. “I had very little time for games on High Tortuga,” she explained. “And it's been more like live action down in the city since we arrived.” She waved a hand to encompass the virtual range. “This place is good to escape to.”
The shooting lanes were only part of the simulation. Sabine saw people on the mats using everything from repurposed shipboard items to blades. There were even flashes in the distance from the kind of weaponry she’d had no clue existed before leaving Earth behind some four years ago.
She ran her hands up and down her body, then held them in front of her face and flexed her fingers. “I’m amazed. If I didn’t know I was in VR, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between my avatar and my real body. What are you doing in here?”
Ashur stood beside her at the head of the lane while they waited for the simulation to begin. “I wanted to try out my new avatar. What do you think?” Ashur shook his shaggy head and transformed into a Hellhound in the blink of an eye.
Sabine took in the floating fur, red eyes, and rows of razor-sharp teeth. “I like the eyes. I’m not kissing that mouth, though.”
Ashur huffed and shook his head again, returning to his own shape. “I think it goes very nicely with Baba Yaga. I just don’t look very fierce next to her, you know? I thought you wanted to shoot something?”
Sabine smirked. “I do.” She selected her weapons—two pistols that were very similar to her own, but sleeker and deadlier-looking. “Ricole came up with a ghost of a plan, and now I need to think about how we’re going to take our company to the next level. Shooting helps me think.” She held the JD Specials up to the light, admiring the upgrades on her own pair.
“Good choice,” a deep voice interrupted from behind her. “You might want to go for something a little less powerful, though.”
She spun around, startled by the intrusion. “You are joking, right?” The man stood with his arms folded and legs apart—six foot two of solid muscle and twinkling blue eyes wearing supple black leather and a cheeky grin. Not impressed, she told herself. “I think I can handle them, Mister Beefy.”
The man shook his head. “You’ll still feel the kickback on a JDS in here.”
The first targets appeared in Sabine’s peripheral vision. She twisted back around to the lane and brought up the Jean Dukes Specials, firing them over and over as new targets popped up at random.
The pistols danced in her hands, but she had perfect control despite the pain the recoil sent shooting up her arms. Still, it was completely worth it to use them at a level she wouldn’t dare try in reality.
The look on Mister Beefy’s face was not to be forgotten, either.
She stepped back after the simulation had ended. “Seems fine to me.” The lane was a smoking ruin, every target having been taken out with extreme prejudice.
Ashur chuckled dryly. “I think she’s got you there, Mister Beefy. Wait until I see Rickie!”
The man’s face fell. “Ashur…dude, don’t do that to me. I thought we were buddies!”
Sabine held the virtual pistols out to the man and met his eyes without giving away the pain she felt in her wrists. “Now I feel sorry for you. Tell you what…beat this,” she indicated the score window, “and I will ask my good friend Ashur to keep it to himself.”
“Challenge accepted.” He took them and waited for the simulation to begin again.
Sabine perched on a bench behind the lane and watched, with Ashur at her feet. She sensed that Mister Beefy had an edge; the firm set of his broad shoulders spoke a thousand words as he stood there, ready to begin.
He was obviously a warrior. Well trained, too, if his stance was anything to go by. Her thoughts drifted to Akio for a brief moment; she saw the same strength in him.
Mister Beefy caught her studying him, and the distraction was enough to make him miss the first shot by a hair. “Gott Verdammt, and fuck me with a backward pineapple!”
Sabine snickered at his outburst, drawn out of her introspection.
The man growled and continued firing, his wrists rigid as the JD Specials pounded them into virtual breadcrumbs. Tim ignored the pain as the targets burst into flame or dust or melted piles of gooey mush wherever he aimed.
Sabine rubbed her wrists, grateful that this was an avatar. She would feel none of the damage when she left the simulation. She would consider training this way regularly. Then if there were ever a situation that demanded her everything, she would already have the muscle memory to pull an honest-to-fuck miracle out of her ass.
“He’s pretty good,” she remarked quietly to Ashur. She didn’t mind the way the leather made his butt look as he moved either, but chose not to share that with the dog. “What’s his name when it’s not Mister Beefy?”
“It’s Tim, and he should be good,” Ashur chuffed in reply. “He’s had a lot of time to practice.”
It was over, and the score window blinked while the points were tallied.
Sabine chuckled when the window revealed she’d beaten him by seventeen points. “Looks like your name is ‘Mister Beefy’ from now on.” She winked. “You’ve got to watch the kickback from the Dukes pistols, you know?”
His eyes narrowed; he was unhappy with the result. He clearly wanted a chance to redeem himself. “I want a rematch! Best of three?”
Just then Ricole contacted her. Sabine, get your ass to our quarters. I’ve found exactly what we need. You’re going to love it! Oh, and Demon is going to eat the vendor if he doesn’t give us a better price, so it should be pretty inexpensive once I’m done haggling.
Sabine sent back her exasperation. Just pay the vendor and bring Demon with you to meet me. Then you can explain what you’ve found that’s so amazing.
You’re going to love it, Ricole repeated before closing the link.
She turned an apologetic face to them both. “Shit, this could get serious. I’ve got to go. Sorry, Ashur. I’m up for a rematch later if you are, Mister Beefy.”
Tim grinned. “Yeah, but let’s up the stakes. VR is good, but nothing beats a real-life sparring match. Think you can take me in a fight?”
Sabine thrust her chin toward him proudly. “I’ve beaten bigger men than you,” she boasted. “I’ll meet you both at the main APA in a couple of hours.”
Tim was mesmerized as the woman walked away. “Shit! I forgot to ask her name.”
“It does kind of feel like you should know who’s aboard your station, Mister Beefy.” Ashur gave him a big doggy grin. “Too busy watching her walk away.” He wheezed with laughter. “I don’t care who wins the next round. You’re stuck with that for as long as I live!”
Before Tim could say a thing, Ashur shook his head, transformed into a nightmare version of himself, and sprang away laughing. “I’ll see you at the APA!”
Tim scowled and exited the Vid-pod. Whoever the mystery woman was, she was beautiful and deadly—his favorite combination. He walked the corridors of the station, attempting to clear the image of her from his mind.
It didn’t work. He wondered who she was, where she had come from, and if she would gift him with that smile of hers again when they met on the mat.
He couldn’t stop seeing it.
“Only one thing to do,” he said to himself, changing direction to head for the APA.
“Talk to yourself so you sound like a madman?” Rickie Escobar’s voice asked from beside him. “What’s up, buddy?”
Tim shook his head, not wanting to share. Rickie would just rag on him for pining over a woman, even a female as stunning as the one who had just defeated him at the range.
Rickie made a sympathetic face. “Woman trouble?” He made a little ‘o’ with his mouth when he saw his teasing had
hit the mark. “Duuuude. That’s not like you. When did you start getting all sensitive about women?”
“Not women.” Tim moaned. “A woman. A perfect woman. She’s so far out of my league that I ought to space myself for even thinking about her.”
“Who is this woman?” Rickie demanded, slapping him on the back. “What makes her so special that my buddy the stud muffin is almost crying in a corridor? Wait until Joel hears about this. He’s gonna freak.”
Tim looked hard at Rickie as they walked to the elevator. “Don’t, Rickie. I’m serious—she is amazing.” His eyes got a bit misty. “She handled those JD Specials like they were made for her. It was like all my dreams came true at once. I didn’t even get her name.”
Rickie was bowled over by the sincerity in his old friend’s voice. “Fuck, that’s deep. Want me to help you find her?”
Tim shook his head. “She and Ashur are meeting me at the APA in a while. I’m headed there now to blow off some steam if you want to come with.”
Rickie popped Tim on the back. “Sure, I could use a workout. What about your mystery woman? You said she was with Ashur? She must have come from High Tortuga with Akio and Barnabas. Or maybe she snuck up from Devon.”
“She doesn’t sneak,” Tim snapped. “She’s too direct for that.”
Rickie made a face as he followed Tim.
The APA was reasonably empty when they got there. They quickly changed and claimed a mat with a view of the door.
Tim couldn’t concentrate, so Rickie scored again and again, Tim’s lackluster performance gave his friend one opportunity after another to rack up points.
“It’s a good thing nobody’s watching,” Rickie teased as Tim looked at the door for the third time in the last few minutes. “If your crush turns up, you’re going to look really stupid lying on the floor with all your teeth knocked out.”
Tim twisted back to Rickie with a smirk. “Let’s go then, laughing boy.” He brought up his guard and made a “come at me” gesture. “You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face when I make you kiss your own ass!”
He dived in with a heavy haymaker, knowing Rickie would duck. As Rickie bent Tim headbutted him, knocking him on his ass. “You said something about teeth on the floor?”
Rickie spat blood and grinned. “Yours, not mine.” He kicked at Tim’s knee, jabbing fast when Tim moved to counter. “You’re getting slow, old man.”
Tim answered with a knife-hand to Rickie’s solar plexus, right where Eric had shot him on their first day as Guardians. “You’re better than you were,” he said admiringly. “What have you been doing these last few years? You’re keeping that pretty close to your chest.”
“Bit of this, bit of that,” Rickie replied enigmatically. “Whoa, who’s that?”
Tim turned to see if she’d arrived, but his disappointment turned to pain when Rickie socked him in the jaw.
Tim rubbed the sore spot and poked at his teeth to check that they hadn’t actually come loose. “Wow, Rickie.” He worked his jaw a little more, fantasizing that Rickie was just a few inches closer. “Do you want to punch me in the dick just to make sure you got all the dirty moves in? Maybe I should hold out my leg so you can sweep the fuck out of it and make it a cheap-shot trifecta?”
“Wow, wuss boy.” Rickie rolled his eyes. “It’ll heal in a minute. You’re too easy.”
“Pretty sure it’s you who can be lured into any woman’s bed with the promise of a meal in the morning. Or has that changed?” Tim had sparred endlessly with Rickie and the other original Guardians when they had first started out. They had kept in touch as best they could as the years took them in different directions, but the death of Matthew during the Leath War had left an unfillable empty space between them all.
Joel had remained in the service, and Rickie had done something that was probably nine-tenths illegal since he hadn’t bragged about it to them. Tim had stayed on at AGB as a bouncer and, admittedly, done his best to avoid making any kind of impact at all. The wars had spread them out over the years, but it was good to be back together, even if they were no longer complete as a team.
Tim ducked a swing and countered again for the point. “One thing I haven’t missed is your sense of humor.”
It was Rickie’s turn to look pained. “There was me thinking you worshipped the ground I walk on. Guess I’ve been replaced by Ms. Mystery, whoever she is. She’s a lucky woman.”
Tim was about to deliver another punch—and a snarky reply—when he noticed the woman in question standing in the doorway with Ashur.
Rickie breathed out. “Oh, man. I take it all back. She’s waaay too hot for you.”
Devon, QBBS Guardian, Main APA
Sabine stood outside the changing rooms and eyed the different workout areas. She sucked in a deep breath, regretting it instantly as the smell of sweat stung her nose. She looked down at Ashur, who had been waiting outside the APA when she arrived. “Where will I find Mr. Beefy?”
Ashur indicated one of the nearby sparring areas with his nose. “He’s over there.”
Sabine hesitated. “Oh. Oh, yes. I see him now.” The man she’d come to fight was engaged in a match on one of the mats with another huge guy. He was bigger in the flesh. “I kind of laid it on thick with that challenge. I’m going to look stupid if I lose.”
“Keep it simple,” Ashur chuffed. “You know hand-to-paw combat, right?”
Sabine was about to agree, but did a double-take and narrowed her eyes at Ashur. “‘Hand-to-paw?’ You mean ‘hand-to-hand.’”
Ashur laughed. “No, I meant what I said.” He nudged her toward the mats. “Go…join in. I’ll be around when you’re done.” He walked to the bench and laid down, his chuffing having drawn the attention of the men.
Sabine sniffed delicately. Under the tang of sweat, she could smell the nature of the two men on the mat. Damn dog. You could have told me he was a Were.
As she approached the mat, she heard Tim’s friend tell him she was too hot for him and frowned. She wasn’t looking for romance, just a good fight.
She threw her towel on the bench beside the mat and walked over to them, smiling and nodding to the stranger and fixing her target with a hard look. “I came here to kick your ass, Mister Beefy. I wasn’t expecting to hear you talking about me.”
Ricky dissolved into a fit of helpless laughter. “’Mister Beefy?’ Oh, Tim—you know I can’t let that go, right?”
“Shut it, Rickie,” Tim growled, glowering at him.
Rickie was doubled over at this point, wiping tears from his eyes. “I thought ‘Rocky’ was overly macho, but this is just priceless!”
Ashur chuffed his amusement from the side. “I know, right?”
Sabine looked from one to the other. “Children, please. Is there going to be a fight or not?”
Tim met her eyes and swept a hand toward the mat. “Let’s go.”
They took their stances, Sabine fixing Tim with a hard look. “Let’s make this interesting,” she suggested, enjoying the way Tim shifted under her unwavering gaze. “What’s the currency for wagering here?”
Rickie supplied the answer. “Honor, pretty lady. All the best matches are played station-wide. For training purposes, you understand.”
Tim saw her perfect mouth quirk to the side.
“I would expect nothing less.” She turned her icy gaze on Rickie. “I suggest you desist in calling me ‘pretty lady’ or I might have to make you cry when I’ve finished with Tim. My name is Sabine.”
“Pretty name for a pretty lady.” Rickie was pushing it. “You got a last name to go with that?”
Sabine smiled sweetly, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “I don’t need a last name.”
Rickie’s eyes widened, and the color drained from his face as though his heart had just fallen out through his ass.
Tim snorted. He had known by instinct that she was of the royal family. She walked like she owned the night. “I’m all for making a side bet, Sabine.
”
She grinned at him. “That’s what I like to hear! What are you prepared to wager?”
Tim thought quickly. “If you win, the video goes out, and everyone gets to call me Mister Beefy for a month without me tearing their heads off.” He saw that he had her, and upped the stakes. “If I win, you agree to have dinner with me.”
Sabine tightened up.
Rickie—for once—was silent.
“It’s only dinner,” Tim said gently, seeing her reticence.
Sabine shrugged. “Sure, why not?” An expression he couldn’t decipher flashed over her face. “It’s only dinner. Now, are we going to fight or stand around all day talking like a pair of schoolgirls? I’m a busy woman.”
“Yeah! Get on with it, Mister Beefy!” Rickie catcalled.
“Shut it, Rickie! Rules?” Tim asked. They had all learned that lesson on their first day as Guardians.
Sabine’s humor was gone in an instant. “Don’t hold back. I need the workout.” She rolled her shoulders and stretched, never taking her eyes from his. “I had a small altercation a couple of days ago, but it’s not the same when they can’t really fight back.”
Rickie snorted. “You’re talking about the warehouse event planetside the other day?”
Sabine shrugged. “Mm-hmm.”
Tim’s eyes widened at her hard look. “Shit, you’re not kidding!” His grin returned, the prospect of a challenge from the stunning woman before him firing his spirit. “Weapons?”
Sabine shook her head. “Hand to hand, abilities only.”
Rickie called a start from the edge of the mat, and all else was forgotten.
They went in at the same time, both on the offensive. Her first strike was blocked by his muscular forearm, but she had a counter lined up. She slammed a knee upward, catching his ribs with a crack.
Sabine growled. “You’re not even trying! I told you not to hold back, Beefy. I’m not playing.”
“You’re fast,” he admitted, “and strong.” He rubbed his ribs where her knee had connected. “Okay, I’m done holding back. Let’s do this.” He dropped back into his stance, ribs healed.
“About fucking time!” Sabine took three steps forward and launched herself into the air.
The Kurtherian Endgame Boxed Set Page 67