by Calinda B
He rose to confront her at the bottom of the open gangplank. “What you want?” he demanded in a deep rumble that sounded like rocks grating.
“Just came to see how Trix is doing. This is her ship, right? She looked real sick last night when she left the bar. Is she okay?”
He grunted something, not moving from his guarded stance.
A compact blond man appeared at the top of the gangplank. Hands braced on the edge of the open hatch over his head, he leaned out to look her over, his brown eyes sly under his long bangs. “Looking for Trix? You slip her something so you could win at holodice, Serp girl?”
“Didn’t need to—we weren’t playing for credit. I guess she’s okay if she mentioned me.”
“She did, but she forgot to say how starry you are.”
The Mau shook his massive head and moved away from the walkway. “Since you’re so negly, you link Trix for her,” he said to the other man, and went back to his task.
‘Negly’, Scala’s com translated in her ear. ‘Mauritian for ‘sexually attracted.’ Not that Scala needed a translator for the gleam in the blond man’s eyes. He was negly, all right. She was used to that—any reasonably attractive female was out here. She just hadn’t expected the zing of returned attraction. He was cute, and that twinkle in his eye said he knew how to have fun.
“I’m Darry,” he said, straightening in a manner that was clearly designed to show off his physique. “Who’re you?”
“Scala.” She smiled at him. “No need to bother Trix, just wanted to check on her.”
“You here for long?” he asked.
“Hells, no,” she retorted. “Wouldn’t stay on this piece of floating space junk if they paid me in solid iridium. Just here until I get on with another ship.”
“Ah,” Darry flipped something in the air with one hand. Then he straightened. “Hold on, I’ll see if she’s awake.”
He disappeared inside the cruiser, and Scala canted one hip and waited, as if she’d nothing better to do. Which was the truth. She’d been bored as all seven hells hanging around on this floating rust raft, waiting for Darkrunner’s ship to dock.
The windows of the bay groaned with pressure as a new arrival whined to a stop just outside, the thruster wash boiling forward around the craft. A J-class cruiser, big enough to carry a sizeable crew.
The pilot, just visible in the cockpit, brought the vessel in a little too fast. Scala winced as one of the wings scraped the armorglass window between the bays. The vessel shuddered in protest, then settled to the pad. One of the station crew zipped out to the ship on a hoverpad, gesturing furiously at the gelpaint streaked window of the bay. That pilot was going to have to pay a damage fee before refueling.
Outside, an IGSF fighter squadron patrol screamed by, headed for Serpentia. An eerie flash lit the blackness of space, pale light streaking across the void in jagged waves, then receding. Another solar storm revving up.
“Hey!” Darry beckoned her with a grin. “Come on up, Serp girl. Trix is asleep, but the boss wants to meet you.”
Yess. Scala swallowed a hiss of triumph as she climbed the gangplank.
She’d admired the exterior of the craft, but when she stepped on board the cruiser, she walked into luxury. All leather, cerametal and faux woods in dark tones, every inch gleaming and plush. The seats were skrog leather, smooth and soft. The craft smelled of some exotic spice as if she’d walked into a Serpentian bazaar, not onto the private cruiser of a ganger lord.
And waiting for her in the center of it all was the man she’d come to find. He did not look happy to see her. Well, he wouldn’t be. No one was happy, who had to spend more than a few secs here on Quol-Ray. It was a desolate spot at best. In the wee hours of a Serpentian night, with a solar storm already howling outside, it was a level of hell. The storm would only get worse when the sun rose, gaining in force, waves of heat and energy buffeting every planet, ship and station in their path.
Darkrunner had docked here at the busy fuel hub for fuel and information. She’d watched from a careful distance as he, Darry and Trix walked into the bar, and then split up, the two men heading out to the spaceport area.
They could have made it out before the storm, had Trix not succumbed temporarily to a bad case of dysentery. Scala knew exactly why the diminutive redhead had gone pale, and then dashed for the nearest lav, because she’d been the one to introduce the dose of bacteria into the woman’s drink at the Quol-Ray Bar and Grill.
After she and Trix had spent an amicable hour playing holodice and sharing a plate of fried fan-shrimp, of course, so Scala could pump the woman for intel about her ship and mission. She hadn’t gotten much, but that didn’t surprise her. Just meant Darkrunner didn’t hire fools.
Or perhaps his crew didn’t dare gossip. Now that she was face to face with him, she thought it might be fear that kept their lips sealed. She’d seen him in the holovids given her for background, of course. And she knew his history, how he’d emerged from the depths of the New Seattle slums to fight his way to the top of the lawless there.
But seeing him in person was another matter entirely.
Tal Darkrunner was a force of nature, the air around him a vacuum of icy calm in the midst of the storm outside. He was also one of the sexiest beings she’d ever encountered. She traced the ebony skirls of ink on his skin with her gaze, her fears and thoughts blown away, leaving heat and sheer lust in their place.
Her gaze trailed down over his lean, taut body. His long, leather duster, also black as the reaches of space, hung open to reveal a tight shirt and leather pants tucked into tall boots.
He was like the vision of some dark, sensual artist. The darkness of his tattoos, hair and clothing and his thick, black lashes emphasized the pale, crystalline beauty of his eyes, his straight nose and the thin, sensual curve of his mouth.
And he was looking her over in turn, except he didn’t look quite as impressed. His gaze traveled over her until she was ready to squirm in her own worn leathers. She forced herself to stand calmly, hands at her side. Ready for anything, because, yeah, he was supernova hot, but she couldn’t trust him, his pretty boy sidekick or his Mau thug. Lucky for her, she had plenty of experience with treacherous males.
“So,” the ganger said, his voice a quiet husk that she had to strain to hear. When she caught herself leaning forward, she froze, realizing that was precisely why he spoke so quietly. Tricky bastard. “You’re here to see Trix.”
“Well,” Scala smiled winningly. “Yeah, and I was hoping you might need someone to take her place—just until she’s back on her feet, of course. I don’t need anything long term, just want to get off this floating hell hole.”
Darkrunner didn’t look impressed by her smile or her candor. “You just happen to need a post when I need crew.”
“Yeah, how’s come you didn’t get food poisoning like Trix?” Darry asked. “You shared food, right?”
“We did,” she answered, patting her flat midriff. “But I’m Serpentian. Digestive system of pure cerametal, y'know? I feel terrible for Trix—those damned fan-shrimp. Shouldn’t eat ‘em on Quol-Ray.”
"She'll live." Darkrunner’s gaze gave nothing away. The skin on the back of her shoulders prickled. Did he believe her? Or could he somehow sense that she was the one who'd dosed Trix's drink with the bacteria?
“Why are you on Quol-Ray?” he asked.
“Jumped my last ship when the quarking captain refused to pay me a lunar month’s worth of wages. Bad luck it happened to be here. I’ve been earning my keep here, but I’m ready to be done with this hellhole.”
His gaze lowered, lingering on places that sprang to life under his gaze. Quark, didn’t make sense that ice could leave such fire in its wake. But no matter—he was attractive, and she knew she was too, didn’t mean either of them were going to act on it.
“Don’t imagine whoring pays much in a place like this,” the blond man said, his gaze laughing at her. “You’d do better on planet.”
Scala
glared, no longer finding him amusing. “First, I don’t whore myself.” Not since she’d acquired other skills. She might dress flashy, but that was her choice. Never hurt to keep men focused on her body instead of her brain—although it did get boring trying to have conversations with males who were speaking to her breasts or even lower down. “And second, I’m not exactly welcome on planet.”
“Why not?” Darkrunner asked.
With a sigh, she cocked her head and pulled the woven leather choker away from her throat, revealing the scar there, and the inked ident symbol over it. Her mark of shame, and even though it was part of the plan, humiliation still crawled through her middle at having to show it.
Darry’s arching brows flew up. “Chipped as an undesirable? What’d you do, bite the High Governor of Serpentia?”
She showed him her teeth in a mirthless smile. “I wish. I was a guard on a big cruise ship. Got mixed up in a plot to steal the ship. Turned out my man was gonna kill everyone on board, but forgot to share that part with me.”
Darkrunner’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What ship?”
Okay, this was the tricky part. She must reveal her connection, however negative, to LodeStar and Logan Stark. But now that the ganger knew who she was, he could run a background check and find out anyway.
“The Orion,” she said. “A LodeStar vessel. I guess you heard about that, huh? Don’t worry, my ship-stealing days are over. They catch me doing something that big again, they’ll execute me.”
“Fuck me, you tried to steal a LodeStar ship?” Darry asked, his expression hovering between derision and delight. “That took balls.”
She shrugged, watching Darkrunner. He regarded her in silence, broken only by the winds howling outside, and the swift tappity-tap of his fingers on the butt of a sleek laser weapon holstered on his belt. Her gaze dropped to his lean hands, which bore tattoos as ornate as those on his face, and a ring on every finger. She wondered what those rings would feel like on her skin.
His inspection stretched, her nerves along with it until they were nearly to the snapping point. She clenched her jaw against the urge to scream at him to refuse her if he was going to, but just get it over with, when he finally moved.
“This is Darry,” he said, indicating the blond man. “He’s my second. This is Dalg. If I decided to take you, you can stay at least till we reach Serpentia. Trix should be back on her feet by then, and we’ll see.”
“Great.” She was nearly in. “Ah, what will I be doing exactly?”
Darry gave her a wolfish grin, sauntering closer to her, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. He wore tight leather pants and skin shirt as well, the hue of bitter chocolate, under a green vest. He was attractive in a cocky, boyish way, but not as hot as his silent, brooding boss.
“What Trix does, of course. She takes care of all our needs. She’s especially good with her mouth.” Darry’s thick, gold-tipped lashes drooped as he looked at her mouth. “I could put those lips of yours to good use.”
“You can try, earther. Like I said, I whore for no one.”
“Oh, I will,” he promised.
Scala bit back a laugh. Hard to be angry with any guy with that much mischief in his beautiful eyes.
The Mau laughed soundlessly. “This I’d pay to watch,” he rumbled. “Ship’s guard, you said? Bet you know some fighting moves. Watch out, she’ll rip you a new one, Darry.”
She wasn’t here to make enemies. She gave Darry a look under her lashes. “I just like to make my own choices, that’s all.”
He winked. “I’m even better at persuasion.”
“Right,” she said, grinning back at him. “So really, what is the post?”
“This isn’t a pleasure cruise,” Darkrunner said. “I’m … searching for someone.”
A thrill of excitement ran over her skin. He was letting her in on his goal, so he must mean to hire her. “Is this someone going to be happy to see you?”
He shook his head slowly.
She shrugged. “I’m okay with that.”
He showed no reaction to this, just as he hadn’t to her flirting with his lieutenant. “I could use a fighter along, in case of trouble. That is, if you’ve still got the skills. Been a while since you were legit.”
She gave him look for look. “If you’d seen the rough crews I’ve been working alongside, you’d get that my skills are better than they’ve ever been. Have to be, or I’d have been raped a hundred times.” That was the honest truth.
He didn’t look impressed. “We’ll see. Come outside.” He jerked his head toward the open hatch. “You can demonstrate.”
“Fine.” This part would be easy as taking stink from a Bartian.
Darry and the hulking Dalg watched silently as she preceded Darkrunner out onto the gangplank.
She was a few steps down the treads when her right leg was jerked out from under her by a booted foot. She catapulted off the side of the gangplank, headed for the hard, dirty floor of the docking bay below.
Instinctively she tucked, used her momentum to roll in midair and landed on her feet, already whirling in a defensive crouch to face her assailant.
Darkrunner sauntered down the gangplank and faced her, a smirk turning up one corner of his chiseled mouth, his crystalline gaze alight with taunting challenge. The bastard. Scala let the scalding tide of fury burn away the sense of betrayal at his dirty move. They weren’t children, and he wasn’t a schoolyard bully, he was the man she was going to stalk while he stalked other prey.
She faced him, gliding to her left as he moved out to her right. “You get your kicks knocking women around?” she goaded.
He betrayed no irritation or guilt at her contempt, which she didn’t bother to hide. Instead he smiled slowly, white teeth glinting as they circled each other several paces apart, two opponents searching for an opportunity to strike.
“Are you a woman first, or a warrior? I need to know.”
Fine, she wasn’t here to make friends. However, it was going to be all she could do not to kill this smirking asshole.
“”I’ll show you tough,” she promised. “But you pull a blade on me, I’ll feed you your balls—tied up in a bow with those braids of yours.”
“You want to work for me,” he answered, “You’d better be ready for anything that’s dished out—from me, my crew, or the people we’re after. If you’re more interested in me seeing a woman when I look at you, I’ll fuck you if that’s what you want. But then I’ll leave you here. I can get cunt whenever I want it, I don’t need it taking up space on my ship.”
She went in low and fast, before his words had died away. It was an amateur move, and one that he countered easily, his longer male arms already closing around her ... except that she was no longer there. Flipping away to balance on one hand, she took him off his feet with a lightning scissor of her slim, strong legs around his.
As he fell, he rolled, got hold of her jacket and pulled her with him. She used their momentum to keep going, flipping back over his head and sliding out of her jacket to land in a crouch behind him.
He knifed up, and she waited the split second it took for him to get half-way to his feet before taking him down again, hard. This time her legs wrapped around his neck. Pinning him to the ground, she allowed herself a fierce smile of victory. The whole fight had taken only seconds.
“Dirty enough for you, earther?” she asked breathlessly.
“Not bad.” He relaxed and tipped his head back to look up into her face. This close, his pale eyes were shot with streaks of silver, and his mouth quirked in a private smile, just for her. Beguiling, as was the slither of his glossy braids across her thigh, and the heat of him through her thin pants.
“Except for this.” Something hard poked her in the ass, pressing her snug pants into the crevice of her ass, and pulling them tight into the vee of her hips as well. His laser weapon. Heat flowered there, sending shivers of weak, liquid wanting through her.
She rolled her eyes at him. “You’d never have got
ten a shot off, Darkrunner.”
“Oh? Why not?” He turned his cheek into her inner thigh, and his nostrils flared, taking in her scent. His smile grew, as if he knew she was aroused. Fine, didn’t mean she was going to do anything about it—not with him anyway.
She tightened her thighs around his neck, squeezing hard enough that his face suffused with color and his smile became a grimace of discomfort.
“Hard to do anything with a broken neck,” she murmured in her most sultry voice. “And with these thighs, I can snap your neck like a crispie.”
“Good point,” he grunted. “Now let go before—I’m tempted—to give you a new orifice.”
She let him go, opening her legs and flipping backward again. Standing up, she retreated to a safe distance to pick up her jacket and slip it on. He rose and watched her, cocking his head to either side to stretch his neck. She smiled, knowing exactly why his neck was stiff.
“That was hot,” Darry called from the gangplank. “Can I be next? And can you get naked first?”
“In your dreams,” Scala called back. After tangling with Darkrunner, Darry was about as threatening to her peace of mind as a mawwr. Darkrunner was the wild catamount roaming the edges of the firelight, searching for an instant of weakness before springing, teeth and claws bared.
He straightened his duster, looking unperturbed as if they’d just had a conversation with words instead of their bodies. “If I’d pulled a blade, I could’ve sliced you open when you came at me.”
Scala held out her arms in invitation. “Try me. You’d had one out, I’d have gone for it first. Hard to slice anyone with a broken hand or wrist. And yes, I can spot a palm blade.”
He lifted his hand, a slim blade appearing from his cuff. “Really?”
She shrugged. “A guy like you has weapons hidden everywhere, including one up your ass for all I know.”
“No,” he broke in. “I store my ... weapons a bit farther forward in my pants.”
Darry laughed.
Scala ignored the innuendo. “But right now, you need a warrior more than you need to make a point, so why try to maim me?”