by Calinda B
Their mistake had been leaving Tal for dead, without making sure that he was. Trix and Darry had found him, and then found a medtech who would let them pay when they could.
Tal hid, living on his rage until he was well enough. Then he stole a laser weapon, walked into the dingy club where Brutal and his woman liked to hold court, and killed them both in full view of the denizens of the club
Not a being in the place protested. Instead they watched as this new, young human with death in his eyes walked around the table, used one booted foot to shove Brutal’s body to the floor, and assumed his seat. Trix and Darry moved in to flank him, while Dalg took position to one side.
“Anyone who’ll stand with me,” Tal told the silent crowd, “can stay. I’ll take care of you, no matter what. Anyone who tries to betray me … “ he nodded at the bodies on the floor.
He set his weapon on the table before him and leaned back in his chair. “Choose.”
A few dock riff raff slid out the exits of the club. One by one, the others came to present themselves to Tal and offer their allegiance to one who was brave enough and crazy enough to rid them of Brutal.
And a new ganger lord was born.
Tal had had many women since then, and some men, all of them attractive. He trusted very few of them.
Scala Raj wasn’t going to be around long enough to be a problem anyway, and with her past, there was no way she had any connection to the man who’d spurred him to take on this mission. No way in hells.
He cut the link, then lay back in his comfortable chair and stared at the muted lights on the console of his cruiser. A familiar satisfaction filled him. The Zharrdul was his, from her fancy layered gelpaint exterior to her cerametal fitments, to the real silk velvet duvets on every bunk.
The cruiser was his latest acquisition, and even when he was deep in the building he’d taken over and refurbished bit by bit so that the shabby main floor club was now the Flash, the top floor his luxurious penthouse and the middle floors his business offices, he could feel his beauty crouched on the roof of the building like a protective beast, ready to snarl into life at his command. To carry him anywhere, high above the noise, crowds and crush of buildings that comprised his world.
He’d always come back, though. To the astonishment of many, Tal had no intention of ever leaving New Seattle or the gritty streets into which he’d been thrust at a tender age to fend for himself. He smiled to himself. They’d never understand how much more satisfying it was to stay, and to know that now when he walked those streets, everyone he met stepped aside for him, many with fear in their eyes, but all with respect.
And to know that those who had tried to best him had gone down in blood and flames themselves. But not before crawling in abject fear. Oh, he still had enemies and always would, for the slums spawned criminals like the seas spawned finned creatures.
But New Seattleites knew he was the man to come to if they needed protection. And he gave it, in return for loyalty. To be under the awning of his gang meant to be safe from the sentient trash that prowled the city, alert for any weakness, ready to use and destroy the innocent, the vulnerable, the helpless.
Once it was known they were Darkrunner’s, they were no longer the last two. And since he’d never had the luxury of innocence himself, he had little patience for it. It was better given up, so a being could get on with life.
He found himself picturing a pair of golden eyes that glowed with defiance which couldn’t quite hide the shadows deep within. He reckoned it had been a long time since Scala Raj had been innocent. What string of events had ripped that veil away for her?
Tal rose, shaking his head in irritation. Fuck, he was in danger of becoming sentimental here. What did he care about a Serp warrior with wounded eyes? Time to get to bed.
Chapter 6
Failure.
That was what Scala had feared the most when she set out on this mission. The kind of fear that turned her guts turned to jelly and her legs to rubber. Failure to keep Tal Darkrunner occupied and away from his empire in the streets of New Seattle, Earth II. Failure to gain the thing she wanted more than anything else—her freedom.
Once she’d met the ganger in person, her fears had shifted to include his wrath. If he ever learned why she was really on the Zharrdul, he might kill her in a cold rage. A man who tossed a female off of a gangplank to see if she’d land on her feet didn’t know the meaning of the word mercy.
Just when she’d convinced herself she could handle his expectations of his crew, her fears had widened another notch, to encompass the very real worry that she’d give in to the sensual temptation he cast like an aura. He radiated danger and sex—a combination that was her personal kryptonite. She couldn’t afford to make a fool of herself over another man who dealt in coercion.
Those fears were all swept aside just now by the one that had, for two years, trapped her in an endless cycle of risky employment in space. The nightmare where she at last dared to set foot on a civilized planet, only to be accosted by IGSF or local cops who carted her off in restraints after her chip alerted them to her illegal presence.
If that happened, she’d no longer have even the cold comfort of travel. She’d be dropped onto the prison planet, Deep Six, where prisoners tended to expire from violence or exposure. As a Serpentian, she hated being cold with a passion. Freezing to death was one of her worst nightmares.
So of course, when the Zharrdul landed at the large and bustling space port in Sunspot City, Solaria, Tal Darkrunner announced, “I’m meeting a contact who may have some information for me. Place called the Black Hole.”
Scala had been to the Black Hole in years past, with her Orion guard mates. Solaria was a small satellite planet that revolved in tune with Serpentia around their brilliant sun. It was used mainly as a jumping off spot for long space flights, and storage for risky fuels and freight bound for its much larger sister planet. There was no farming or settlements other than the ports and depots.
The inhabitants were a tough, hardened lot living their lives as if there was no tomorrow, and their favorite watering hole reflected this lifestyle. She thought about warning Tal and the others to watch themselves, but on second thought, that was like warning a serpent to watch out for the local lizards’ sharp teeth. The serpent would be just fine.
Leaning against the bulkhead beside the passage to the rear of the ship, she shrugged. “Okay. I’ll be here when you get back.”
He shook his head. “You’re coming with us.”
Scala blinked. He had a short memory. “Sorry, but no. I’m not.”
“You are,” he said implacably.
“Look, I get you don’t care if I get zapped by this damn chip,” she snapped, “But I sure as hells do. It quarking hurts, it’s loud as a screamer siren in my ears, and the local law can hear it too. How long you think it’ll take the cops to reach me?”
He held up his hand, a small silvery obelisk dangling on a chain. “This is a scrambler. It’ll take care of the chip. You’ve got your pretty collar to hide the surgery scar, and this will just look like more jewelry.”
“Yeah, that’s great. Try it on someone else.”
“The scrambler will interrupt the signal,” Darkrunner repeated. “I know it works, it’s already been tested. You’re not the first chip in my employ, you know. ”
That didn’t surprise her. She could only imagine what crimes some of the others had committed. She shook her head, crossing her arms across her midriff. “Not gonna chance it. Look, you go have a drink, check for intel. I’ll be here when you get back. Not like I have anywhere else to go.”
The Mau tromped out of the cockpit and paused, giving her a look of disfavor. Or maybe that was just his usual expression, hard to tell on a Mau. “I’m out. Link me when you’re ready to take off.” He disappeared down the gangplank.
Darkrunner prowled across the cabin to face Scala, bringing his aura of imminent peril with him. “You’re going if I say you are. Unless you’re ready for tha
t consequence we talked about.”
Scala rolled her eyes. “Right. You went to the trouble to hire me, and you’re threatening to toss me out here? It’d take me twenty minutes to find another post.”
He reached out. She stiffened, but he merely traced one long forefinger down her arm, his gaze following his hand. She felt the heat of his touch through the thin knit of her favorite tee, dusky rose with sparkles of gold. Peekaboo lace filled a deep vee in the front and wide stripes down the sleeves. With the tee she wore her leathers and her favorite soft boots, the same bitter chocolate hue as her leathers, with gold studs swirling up the outsides.
“But you’d be leaving with nothing, remember?” He looked up at her from under his brows, the shadow of a braid laying a stripe across his eyes. “I know how women are about their clothing. Be a shame if I had to cut this off of you...watch you scamper naked through the streets while the chip screams.”
“Try it,” she advised through her teeth, so furious she was shaking. Damn him. How dare he threaten her with humiliation? When this was over, she was going to take him down. “Look, Serpentia is my native planet, Darkrunner. Solaria’s a God-forsaken sand pit, yeah, but it’s part of my home. Do you not get I would give almost anything to have the right to walk down that gangplank with you, go and have a friendly drink, maybe do some dancing?”
Only they weren’t her friends, not him and not the pair waiting by the open hatch. Trix looked bored, Darry was watching her and Darkrunner avidly, like a man watching a cage match and wondering when the real action would begin
Unfortunately, her emotions cost her. While she glowered longingly, Tal once again moved swiftly. She found herself pinned against the wall, his forearm across her throat, his face close to hers.
She brought up her knee hard, but he’d twisted his hips defensively, so her knee struck the outside of his hard thigh instead of his vulnerable genitals.
His arm was braced so he could break her larynx with one move, so she grasped his arm, but didn’t try anything more.
He bared his teeth without humor. “Don’t ever challenge me in front of anyone again, Snake Eyes,” he whispered, so quietly only she could hear. “My people or others. Because I’m always going to win.”
The pressure of his arm hurt her throat. Just like the damn collar the IBI had shoved on her. She fought for breath, but stubborn pride kept her from begging him for mercy, any more than she had the uniforms. She met his gaze defiantly, until her lungs screamed for air and black spots floated before her eyes.
He waited another heartbeat before lowering his arm and stepping away. “You’d better change then,” he said. “And we’ll go.”
Scala sucked in a deep, ragged breath, and then froze as she felt a draft of air on her bare skin. She looked down and gasped. Her tee gaped open, baring her breasts and torso.
She grasped one edge of the garment, so enraged she could hardly speak. “You slimy, slithering sand toad. You cut my shirt!” With that sneaky palm blade of his.
“I like it better this way,” Darry commented from the hatch. Trix laughed.
Her gaze locked with Darkrunner’s, Scala yanked the shirt off, and faced him, shoulders back. “This what you wanted to see?”
His gaze never leaving hers, he shrugged as if completely disinterested in her nudity. “Go and change. Unless you want to come as you are. I don’t suppose anyone will mind.”
For one blazing moment, she contemplated doing just that. She could show him it took more than this to humiliate a Serpentian warrior. Hells, she’d been naked with enough beings to fill whatever spacetrash bar he wanted to visit, anyway.
But she needed to keep her eyes on the prize, remember what she was doing here. Her freedom was worth more than any momentary irritation. That’s all he was, just a sand burr on her ass. Nothing more.
Holding his gaze defiantly, she threw the remains of her shirt at him. The soft fabric struck him in the chest and slithered down. He caught it reflexively, an odd look in his eyes, almost like respect. She was clearly seeing things.
“You owe me a new shirt, ganger. That was my favorite.”
Then she turned away. Sneering at Darry, who was staring at her breasts, and Trix, who was frowning, Scala sauntered down the passageway as if she’d triumphed in the situation, not Darkrunner and his thugs.
As she pulled her gold tank from her duffel and tugged it on, she noted with vague surprise that her hands were trembling. Overload of adrenaline, that was all.
As she walked back out, Trix and Darry were gone. Darkrunner waited for her by the hatch. Without a word, he held out the pendant. She slipped it over her head. Darkrunner watched as the pendant slid down to rest between her breasts, and the ghost of a smile passed through his eyes.
She didn’t look down. So her nipples were taut under the tight knit, so what? Didn’t mean anything.
“After you,” she said, gesturing with scathing courtesy at the gangplank. With a smirk, he strolled down ahead of her.
As she followed him, Scala listed all the ways she could toss him off on his head. She’d get even with him for tossing her off here, and for ruining her shirt—maybe not now, but later. And it would be worth every moment she had to wait. She had so many ideas, it was hard to choose her favorite.
Trix and Darry were waiting for them astride one of two gleaming hovercycles. Scala waited stoically as Darkrunner mounted the other. It just figured she had to ride with him.
He powered the cycle up, and then raised an ebony brow at her. She stepped lightly astride behind him, then gave a hiss as the seat compressed, pushing her against his back.
“There’s not enough room,” she complained, flattening her hands on his back and shoving. He didn’t budge.
“It’s cozy,” he said. “You can put your arms round me if you like.”
“How about around your neck? I could shove on your larynx a while.”
“Another time, Snake Eyes. Hang on,” he said, and the cycle lifted off, turned sharply and zipped through the huge spaceport. Scala grabbed the edge of the seat behind her. She’d be seven times damned before she’d cling to him the way Trix was to Darry, arms wrapped around his waist, chin on his shoulder.
Still, Scala was unable to suppress a thrill of excitement as the craft zipped out of the bay and into the heat of a Solarian summer evening. It had been so long since she’d been on her home planets.
The sky shone with muted golden light, shading to deep red on the western horizon. The mountains ranged jagged against the sky to the east, and the desert stretched out in waves of golden sand to the north, providing a frame for Serpentia, which loomed like a great golden disc on the horizon. A sandstorm raged on Serpentia, an ominous brown blotting out all in its path. Her native home was beautiful in an austere way, but harsh and deadly for the unwary.
Now that she was away from the Z’s air-conditioning, she was glad to be wearing the brief tank, so she could feel the heat of the air on her skin. Darkrunner had to be baking in his leather duster—at least she hoped he was. At least he didn’t stink of sweat like many humans on Serpentia. The heat only intensified his spicy, male scent.
They cruised along the wide, dusty street through the space port, past hangers, warehouses and craft repair shops interspersed with bars, restaurants and shops selling everything from clothing to souvenirs.
She smiled to herself at the familiar toys in one window. Maybe she’d buy a lifelike viperbot and slip it into his bunk. Be fun to watch him laser the hells out of his own bed.
* * *
Tal landed in a paid lot on the roof of the huge bar called The Black Hole. The holomarquee featured extremely well-endowed strippers tossing their brief garments into the depths of a black hole swirling behind them. Music and the muffled beat of drums reverberated through the hot air, mingling with the hushed rumble of a transport overhead and the higher whine of a cruiser taking off.
As the hovercycle settled onto the landing pad, he looked over his shoulder at his pass
enger. He’d enjoyed having her plastered against his back. Slim and strong though she was, the Serp was soft in the right places. Her breasts were small, but they were high and round, with long stiff nipples that made his mouth water. He could feel the heat of her lower body through his duster. Sitting in the vee of her thighs was giving him a hard-on.
Thus far, she was the highlight of this journey. She had a temper as hot as the heat baking through his leathers. Much as Tal wanted to fuck her, it was just as much fun to piss her off and watch those slanted, thickly lashed eyes of hers go molten gold with fury. If he decided to seduce her, he might have to actually apologize for some of his taunting, verbal and physical. It was either that or restrain those lethal arms and legs of hers, because while she’d love to wrap them around his neck, he’d prefer them around him a bit lower down.
Anyway, she was only a passing fancy. He was here for another woman. One who might resemble this one physically, but in other ways she was different as night from day. Kiri was a lady, with fire and spirit, but with a gentle sweetness which fascinated him. Now that Logan Stark was gone—straight to the seventh hell, Tal hoped—she needed a man to look out for her.
In return she’d make a home for him, a place of refuge from the harshness of his world. Warm and inviting, like her tiny apartment and even her little coffee shop at the space port had been. She was one of those females who had the mysterious ability to class up any space she inhabited.
He couldn’t wait to see what Kiri could do with his money and her class. Probably turn the Flash into a classy club like his competition, Le Tigre. She could have free rein ... although not in his office. And not aboard the Z. He liked bling, and a man had a right to keep some spaces his own.
Once he proved to her he’d only been keeping her safe when he kidnapped her, Kiri would give him another chance to prove he was the man for her. Of course that would mean no more entertaining himself with women like the one on his hovercycle. That would be disappointing, but no doubt worth it.