Barron's Last Stand (The Black Wing Chronicles Book 3)

by JC Cassels

“They’re moving,” he said. “They’re taking Bo out. They don’t intend for her to get out of this one. The Overlord is incapacitated. There’s no one to properly identify the Sovran Heir. They can offer anyone as Daavin Marin, or no one at all. Take the Black Wing…take the First Sector…the rest of us are loose ends.”

  “They’ll be coming after you on the hush low.”

  “Let them.” With a grim smile, Blade folded his arms across his chest. “That’s why it’s time to go on the offensive,” he said. “If this is Barron’s Last Stand, she’s not making it without me. Bo and I will meet you on Trisdos.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Before I do anything, I need to pay Dilly a visit.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You did electrocute him.”

  “That was a long time ago. I’m sure he’s forgotten about that.” Blade grinned. “Besides, I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

  “I hear you, but back in the day you cut a pretty wide swath. There are a lot of people in the Sub-socia who’d rather shoot first and exchange pleasantries at your funeral.”

  Blade clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Quit being so melodramatic. It’ll be fine.”

  “You need funding?”

  Blade nodded. “Just hard currency if you’ve got any. Bo didn’t get rid of all my stuff. I found my IC finance cards. They should be working. Using them might even net us an IC escort detail.”

  Royce pulled a bulging envelope from his jacket and handed it to him. “I told you she loved you.”

  “I know. I just want to hear her say it…just once.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  His lips twitched as he tucked the currency safely into his pocket. “As soon as I get new com gear, I’ll use Sovran channels to try to raise Edge. We’ll give you a day or two head-start.”

  “Are you sure it’s smart to hang around here?”

  Blade grinned. “I’m a washed-up actor and for some reason my mistress hasn’t left me yet. I haven’t made a public appearance in a while. I’m due.”

  Royce jerked his head toward the shops. “You might want to pick up some clothes for yourself if you’re going to play the fading celebrity.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Her Aunt Misou wouldn’t really approve, but it was the best the little shop had to offer. The short, pale blue dress showed off her legs and curves. Bo folded her clothes and rolled the bulk of her weaponry into her garments before leaving the fitting room. When she stepped out onto the sales floor, she looked around for Blade, frowning at his apparent absence.

  For such a big man, he had an amazing talent for disappearing.

  “That looks lovely on you,” the clerk cooed.

  Bo glanced over at the girl and smiled absently.

  “The man who was with me…”

  The clerk sighed. “You mean that tall, gorgeous hunk who looked like The Guardian from The Watchtower?”

  Fighting down her rising annoyance, Bo forced a smile. “Yeah, him,” she said. “Has he been back?”

  The clerk shook her head. “No, ma’am. I saw him head down the promenade while you were changing.”

  “Lovely.”

  Leave it to Blade to insist she dress up as a Joy Babe, and then run off with her ID.

  Bo scanned the shop once more before turning her attention to the promenade. All species of beings passed by the shop’s front windows. None of them spared more than a passing glance at the display. None of them looked at her twice.

  “I’ll need a bag for my things,” she indicated the bundle under her arm. She pointed to an array of gauzy scarves that hung from a display behind the counter “And one of those.”

  The sales clerk studied Bo’s dress and nodded, pulling a scarf from the display that complemented it.

  Bo sorted through the basket of decorative clips on the counter, pulling out a matched pair and tossing them on top of the scarf.

  “Do you have a smaller one I can use for a veil?” She smiled. “My client prefers that I cover my face in public.”

  With a small sigh, Bo glanced up at the reflective wall behind the sales counter, angled down for the convenience of patrons making impulse buys from the accessories strategically placed to tempt just such a thing. She had the attire, but without a bit more makeup, she’d never be able to pull off the Joy Babe persona. Of course, the shop had a small display of the basics just behind her. Without any real enthusiasm, Bo plucked a few needed items from the tower and, using the mirror behind the counter, applied them before adding them to the growing pile of fripperies.

  She dug through her jacket for a throwaway finance card.

  Prickles of warning danced along the back of her neck. Head bent over her jacket, she glanced to her left. A large, male hand rested on the counter beside her elbow, invading her personal space. Her heart pounded. He had moved up behind silently, without her ever noticing. How long he’d been there she had no idea.

  He carelessly flipped through her purchases. Light glinted off his ring.

  “Is that all you’re getting?” Blade asked. “You shame me. You know I can afford to be extravagant.”

  Closing her eyes, Bo breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You changed clothes,” she said.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. He’d discarded his worn, brown riding jacket, gray undershirt and black work trousers for a simple black suit and pristine white collared shirt. The suit jacket was cut in a current style to emphasize his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

  “You hurt my feelings when you said I looked like an unmade bed.” He smiled at her, then looked past her shoulder at the clerk. “Can you believe she would say such a thing?” He took her clothes from her hands and slid them into the shopping bag dangling carelessly from his fingers.

  The clerk emitted a strange noise, not unlike a strangled squeal. “It is you! I mean, you’re him!”

  Blade flashed his trademark lopsided smile. “No, I’m me,” he said. “I’m much taller than him.” Turning his attention back to Bo, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “You look stunning as always, Marissa.” He kissed her lightly on the jaw. “What’s the matter?” he said softly. “They don’t have anything in a black shimmersilk?”

  Bo sighed and leaned back against him.

  “Not that I liked.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

  Did he really expect her to play along while he acted the spoiled playboy?

  He tsked and set the shopping bag beside his feet. “Whatever are you going to wear to dinner tonight?” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a necklace made up of smoky and clear gemstones that sparkled in the light. “I had my heart set on black shimmersilk to go with this.”

  The clerk squealed in excitement. “We have just the thing!” She dashed off through the racks.

  Blade nuzzled her hair as he fastened the jewelry around her neck.

  “What are you doing?” Bo hissed.

  “Giving Adin time to alter our records,” he whispered. “The ship is under guard. We have to establish as many witnesses as possible who’ll swear you’re Marissa Kiara.”

  Bo shivered as his fingertips traced the edges of the heavy necklace that lay against her skin.

  “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

  “You’re the one rubbing against me.” His warm breath tickled her ear.

  Too late, Bo realized he was right. His arm no longer trapped her against him, yet she still pressed into his body. His heat burned her backside through the whisper-light fabric of her dress.

  “I…” She swallowed hard and gripped the edge of the counter in front of her. “You’re crowding me. I’m trying to make you step back.”

  He chuckled. “All you have to do is ask.”

  “I…”

  She was spared by the clerk’s return.

  “What do you think of this – Mister Devon?”

  He stepped away from her.

  “Well, Marissa,” he said. “I think we’re going to Starl
ight after all.”

  Cool air rushed between them. The sudden loss of his body heat left her feeling naked and exposed.

  She clenched her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him as she turned and peered past his shoulder.

  The clerk held up a flowing black shimmersilk dress for inspection. She smiled expectantly.

  Blade likewise looked to her for some kind of response.

  “It’s lovely.” Bo choked on the words. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  The clerk laughed brightly, as though she’d just made a witty joke. Bo failed to see the humor.

  The dress left precious little to the imagination. The neckline plunged to a daring vee. The length from the bare back to the bottom hem could hardly be longer than Bo’s forearm.

  “Is there a private changing room where we can try it on?” Blade grinned wolfishly.

  Bo’s heart skipped a beat. “We?”

  “You’ll need help getting into it,” the clerk said.

  Blade’s gaze raked her. “And out of it.”

  Bo’s face heated.

  He winked at her and gently brushed his knuckles against her jaw.

  He didn’t have to say anything. Even playing a role, his delight over bringing color to her cheeks was apparent.

  “I don’t think…”

  “Of course,” the clerk cut her off. “Our VIP room is this way.”

  The clerk led them into the back of the shop to a private changing room. She unlocked the door and hung the dress on a hook. Stepping back, she held the door open for them.

  Blade nudged Bo inside and stopped beside the clerk. He offered her a note in hard currency.

  “Please, make sure we aren’t disturbed.”

  The clerk laughed and took the bill from him with a knowing smile. “I-I won’t let anyone bother you…until you’re ready.”

  Blade brushed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.”

  The clerk took hold of his arm. “If you want me for anything – anything at all – there is a call button by the door.” She licked her lips and trailed her fingers along his bicep. “I am completely at your disposal.”

  Bo bristled as a surge of jealousy swelled in her chest.

  Blade deftly extricated himself from her grasp. “Good to know.”

  With a wink, he nudged her aside and pulled the door shut.

  In the silence, he heaved a sigh and flashed a small smile. “Sorry about that.”

  “What’s going on?”

  He studied the cramped cubicle, taking inventory. His blue eyes narrowed. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I thought we’d never be alone,” he said. “Come here.”

  He held out his hand.

  Bo hesitated.

  Lies and deceit.

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  A small section of the upper corner of the mirror behind her was a little darker than the rest.

  Surveillance.

  Lifting her chin, she settled into character with a practiced smile. “Do you honestly expect me to forgive you so easily?”

  Genuine amusement sparked in his eyes. “Honestly? No,” he said. “I expect you to make me pay dearly.”

  She placed her hand in his.

  “And I’m looking forward to it,” he said.

  He pulled her to him.

  Bo rested her arms lightly on his shoulders. “As long as we understand each other.”

  “Oh, but you will forgive me,” he said. “Eventually.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “And what makes you so sure?”

  “Because you love me – whether you’re willing to admit it or not.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “Only a fool would love a faithless bastard like you, Blade Devon.”

  He grinned. “You are many things, my love, but you are no fool. Bastard I may be, but I have always been faithful to you.”

  Bo’s gaze narrowed. Was this for the camera, or for her? She studied his face for some clue. Finding none, she relaxed in his embrace and conjured an appropriately jaded smile. “I know how your game is played. You want me now.” She traced the opening of his collar with her fingertips. “But one day, that will change. When it does, I won’t shed a single tear over you, because this is a business arrangement, nothing more.”

  “Not for me it isn’t,” he said. “Never has been, never will be.”

  He took hold of her wrists and turned her, pushing her gently backward. Leaning against her, he trapped her body against the closed door and pinned her arms over her head.

  Her lips twitched in annoyance.

  He loomed over her, effectively giving the camera a clear view of his back and ensuring their privacy.

  Bending his head close to hers he whispered in her ear.

  “Nod if you understand me,” he said in Lahtrecki.

  Bo nodded her head.

  “Don’t say anything. Don’t react to anything I tell you.”

  She stilled. Something told her she wasn’t going to like where this was going.

  “The attack on Andre – he isn’t expected to survive. Evidence and eyewitnesses say the Scourge of the Seventh Sector is responsible.”

  A cold hand of fear tightened around her throat.

  His fingers tightened around her wrists.

  “There is a squad of station security guarding the ship. More are on the way. No one can raise Edge. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Her heart pounded hard in the confines of her chest.

  She barely managed to nod.

  No Sundance.

  No Edge.

  Actively hunted by every law enforcement agency in the Commonwealth, and she was cornered on a space station with no backup and no means of escape.

  He lifted his head. “Hey, look at me.”

  She obeyed, automatically responding to the authority in his tone.

  The hard glint in his eyes stole her breath.

  The past five years rolled away, sweeping every pretense with it.

  “You have me and I have no intention of leaving you. Let me do what I was trained to do. I will always protect you, no matter what.”

  His ardent marriage vow teased her memory. “While I breathe, I am your champion…”

  “You’ve told me that before.”

  “And I’ll keep telling you until you believe it.”

  “Nothing destroys me without going through you?”

  “As long as there is life in my body,” he promised. A reassuring smile curved his lips.

  “This is not a business arrangement,” he said in Basic. “I love you.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond. His mouth hungrily took hers.

  She met him, eagerly returning his kiss. Bo strained against his hands holding her, needing the reassurance of his familiar touch. He released her wrists. Her hands roamed along his arms as they went around her, pulling her closer. Her fingers threaded through his hair as his tongue plundered her mouth.

  Maker help her, with everything going to hell around her, she clung to him as the only fixed point in her universe.

  Her knees wobbled. His arms tightened around her and he broke the kiss with a growl.

  “I am not making love to you here.” His voice was hoarse with desire. “Not with some spy camera watching.”

  Bo glanced past his shoulder at the shadow behind the mirror. She’d forgotten all about it. Clearing her throat, she lowered her gaze and nodded her understanding.

  “I reserved a suite,” he said. He cupped her face in his large hand, waiting for her to look up at him. “Who needs to try it on? We’ll buy it and go. You can try it on later.”

  “The dress?”

  “The dress.”

  “Yes.”

  ***

  “Hand over your money and your jewels and you won’t get hurt.”

  The tough stepped from the shadows, blocking their way. Though a full head shorter than Blade, he leveled a modified stinger at them.

  His arm around her shoulders, Blade drag
ged her to a halt.

  Damn. Getting rolled was the last thing they needed.

  Bo relaxed into a battle-ready stance. “Seriously?” She shook her head. “This is not your lucky day.”

  Blade squeezed her shoulder in warning and released her. He tried to sweep her behind him, but she dug in her heels and refused to budge.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Blade said, as much to her as to the man across from him.

  Taking the hint, Bo relented and retreated behind his shoulder.

  Blade studied the other man and opened himself up to the Sentaro.

  “You don’t want to do this.” Blade focused his energy on the tough, reaching out to soothe the auric threads that vibrated wildly around him. As soon as his mind touched the thread connecting them, the other man flinched.

  The tough radiated with nervous anxiety as he sensed danger to himself on some subconscious level. It was all over his prenaha. The stench of violent death hovered in the air.

  “Of course he wants to do this,” Bo said, breaking into his concentration.

  “Will you be quiet?” Blade snapped over his shoulder.

  “Look at him. This is what he does for a living. He rolls tourists.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Let me handle this!”

  Bo folded her arms across her chest. “Fine.”

  The tough’s aura slid out of his reach, vibrating more fiercely than before.

  “I’m not playing games! Give me your money and I want that necklace!”

  Bo shook her head. “Let’s just assume that I’m not handing anything over and move on to the next stage. Any idea how much longer this is going to take?”

  “You’re not helping,” Blade snapped.

  “Shut up!” The tough shouted.

  Blade held up one finger and glared at him. “Just a minute,” he said. “Can’t you see we’re having a disagreement?”

  “I have a gun!”

  Bo shook her head at him. “No…that’s not a gun. It’s cute, though.”

  “Enough!” The tough stepped in, shoving the stinger into Blade’s face. “Hand over your valuables! Now!”

  Bo tsked. “Big mistake.”

  With a sigh, Blade gave up trying to fight his training. He exploded like a tightly-coiled spring. He dropped the shopping bags, took control of the weapon, disarmed the tough, and shoved him against the support strut. With his index finger pressed against the tough’s forehead, Blade focused on the auric threads surrounding the tough’s life force, binding them firmly, all but short-circuiting his prenaha.