“We’re meeting Adelina Candelario,” Fran called back.
I tripped and broke into a half jog to fall into step beside her. “Wait, Adelina? As in, was a pirate and is now an iron guard, Ade Cande?”
“Friend of yours?”
I winced. “Friend with benefits?”
We nudged through a crowd, but Fran’s power-walk faltered. She shot me a look halfway between a scowl and disbelief. “You didn’t?”
I stepped out of the way of a laden mule and offered up a respectful salute to the haggard old woman leading the animal behind her. “I did.”
“Are there any women in the nine you haven’t fucked?”
That garnered a few sideways glances and raised eyebrows. I tucked my thumb into my pants pocket. Blow me if Fran didn’t look flustered. It was almost as though she cared who I fucked.
“It was for a good cause.” I grinned, taking more than my fair share of pleasure out of her frustration.
Fran raked her gaze over me and curled her lip. “I guess that explains why she was more than happy to help get you out of Asgard.”
I licked my lips and sucked in the metallic air through clamped teeth. “No, it really doesn’t.”
Drawing Fran to one side of the walkway, out of the way of the foot traffic, I lowered my voice and said, “I cleared out her credit account and left her shuttle dead in-the-black.”
She rolled her eyes. “Puto.”
I had no idea what that meant, but she’d called me it before, and her glare made it clear she hadn’t been singing my praises. I didn’t have to fucking explain myself to her, but we were supposed to be playing nice for the sake of business. For that, I could dial down my urge to pull rank.
“I needed credit, and she had more than enough.”
Fran stepped in close until we were both standing under a trader’s canopy. I offered the guy behind the stall a smile, but he was quick to busy himself. Yeah, the way this was going, I didn’t particularly want to get involved either.
Fran planted a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “Are you out of your tiny mind? You stole from the Cande family and a pirate? Jesus, Cale. Just when I think you can’t get any more stupid.”
“It was a few years ago, and I hadn’t planned it that way. It just kinda happened.”
It had happened all right. Ade was nuts, like in the should-be-institutionalized kinda way. And hot. So damn hot. She’d had her eyes on stealing Starscream at the time. All’s fair in pirating and smuggling.
I scratched my nose to hide my smile from Fran. “You getting all up in my face like this, it’s just like old times, ain’t it? I’m feeling all nostalgic. Next you’ll be grabbing my balls and giving me the feels in all the right places.”
Fran’s glare didn’t even twitch. “I have to deliver Ade Cande’s cargo and you’re telling me you fucked her over, and you want to come with me?”
“I am coming with you.” My smile slipped, along with my halo.
Fran blinked a few times and sucked in a deep breath. “This would be easier if you let me go in alone to make the trade so we could get off this rock without you going near the Cande residence. You’re like”—she waved a hand at me—“a red flag at encierro.”
That word I knew, because I’d lost credit on encierro, the bull runs. “Well, you’re not going for a cozy little chat with an iron fucking guard without me. I have trust issues. Mostly issues with trusting you.”
She sighed. “Will you let me do the talking?”
I thought about it, for two seconds. “No.”
Fran made a noise—very much like a growl—low in her throat. “I didn’t rat you out in two years. I’m hardly going to do it now, in this backwater dump.”
Her words garnered a few sneers from those browsing the stalls.
I stepped closer, so close I could feel her trembling. She didn’t back down; she never would. The remnants of my fake smile vanished in a second, chased away by a sneer.
“I don’t fuckin’ care about the past. Let me make this simple, because you seem to be experiencing some sort of ego trip.” I pointed at my chest. “I’m the captain.” Then I jabbed a finger at hers. “You’re my second. Would you like me to draw you a picture?”
She ground her teeth.
Tilting my head, I pushed closer still. She stood rigid and controlled.
“What fleet rank are you?” I whispered, wondering how far I could push her before she broke. “A captain?”
She flashed a tight smile. “Just an ensign.”
I slid my hand around her back and splayed my fingers. Inside her tired flight suit, she was all smooth curves and soft skin. I hadn’t touched her to cop a feel, but my thoughts careened off course and into the memory of pulling her close when we’d been out of our minds in lust. I hesitated too long—long enough for her to arch one of her perfect eyebrows.
“If you’re just an ensign,” I whispered, “I’m just a smuggler.”
She extracted herself from our physical discussion and strode on through the crowd, hips swaying in that damn hypnotic way women have no idea they do. A pleasurable shiver trickled through me, rousing the same old desires, as well as another part of my anatomy that had been sorely neglected long enough for Fran’s fleet piece of ass to look painfully tempting. Arguing with her flicked all my switches, and still I kept fucking going there.
“Them’s like wild’ens. Tricksy to tame,” the market trader remarked.
“I should have purged her from the airlock when I had the chance.”
I turned my back on the trader. Over the pitched tent roofs and through the hue of red dust, I could just make out Starscream’s distinctive shape.
Get in the ship, take her back-in-black, and disappear.
I didn’t need Fran. Didn’t need anyone. Didn’t need the hassle. Life was easier on a tugship with a second in command, but it wasn’t impossible without one. On my own, the frequency of runs would reduce and eat into profits. Starscream needed repairs, and I needed rest, but there were other reasons why my feet wouldn’t fuckin’ move. Reasons I couldn’t run away from. Reasons I had to keep moving forward and not staggering back.
I peered into the crowd, at the spot where the raggedy folk had absorbed Fran’s striking figure. After a cycle in Asgard, the last thing I wanted or needed was more alone time with my own fucked up self as company. I had a plan; I just had to stick to it. Ade Cande could be a problem, but my life was made up of problems—other people’s and mine. What was a fixer without problems to fix?
I needed to get drunk enough to not give a shit about any of this; that’d see me right. Checking the pistol tucked inside my coat, I followed Fran’s boot imprints in the dust. I’d know soon enough whether I’d lost any of my talent for talking my way out of trouble, or talking my way into it. I’d never been sure which I was good at.
* * *
I eyed Fran warily as she stood beside the vast bonfire. She soaked up the golden dance of firelight while her small crowd of miners and traders listened in rapt anticipation to whatever tale she was spinning for them. Fuck knew she had a few to pick from—we both did. If they knew she was fleet, they’d probably hang her, and yet she laughed and joked as though she were the same as them, just a smuggler’s second trying to get by in the nine. How easily she adapted to her crowd. I might have appreciated her talent, if I hadn’t been a victim of it.
While she played the PR magnet, I lurked on the fringes of the end-of-cycle gathering, skirting any attempt to engage in conversation. These gatherings weren’t my area of expertise, and the hollowed-out quarry venue fucked with my survival instincts. I hated being hemmed in, and the quarry’s sheer faces were reminders that there was only one way in or out: right through a cadre of Cande guards. I didn’t recognize their faces. For all I knew, they could be the Cande siblings who policed this system.
Fran’s plan for me to stay on the ship suddenly seemed like the wiser move. Damn that bitch for being right—again. At least the shindig seemed jovia
l. The people of KP-92 appreciated their Cande benefactors. I’d appreciate them too once they paid us and we were back-in-black. Ade Cande had invited us here to discuss our cut, and of course Fran had agreed. At least they had what passed for alcohol, although I’d tasted better poison.
My gaze slid from Fran and hooked onto a woman a few strides away from the fire. My heart stuttered. Adelina Cande. Her scorn-filled eyes sent through me a sharp urge to flee. No wonder my instincts were a wreck. If looks could kill, she’d have murdered me, mutilated my body, and buried me where the suns didn’t shine. A red sash hung loose around her hips, declaring her an iron guard, but her short, spiked hair and savage smirk were all pirate. The firelight licked over her fox-red hair. She was every man’s pin-up fantasy—long legs, tight thighs, and hips to grip—and as crazy as a bag of snakes. If I ignored her, she’d take it as an insult, so I smiled and tipped my can of alcoholic-swill in her direction. Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to do.
She walked away from the group of guards and carved a path through the people. Her long coat bellowed behind her, all dramatic like, but the look in her eyes wasn’t friendly, looking like a shark high on the scent of blood.
Oh fuck. I couldn’t see any weapons on her, but she’d be armed. I reached my left hand behind my back, fingers close to my pistol, and somehow kept my smile. She might stab me in the gut, or kiss me, or both.
I caught Fran’s wary glance and gave my head a slight shake.
“Adelina,” I said in my smoothest purr.
Her fingers curled into a fist. I had a few seconds to react and block the punch, but I let it happen. Her knuckles connected hard enough to whip my head back. Stardust blurred my vision while pain burned through my cheek and jaw. She hit like a guy. Muscle and looks to die for.
I straightened and pressed the cool back of my right hand to my jaw, spilling some of my drink in the process. “I reckon I deserved that.”
Behind my back, I closed my left hand around the gun.
Her blue-eyed gaze flicked down to where I’d hidden my hand, and she glowered. “You old-Earth piece of smuggler shit.”
She shook out her hand with a wince. If her knuckles hurt anything like my face, we were even.
“It’s nice to see you too.” I saluted her with my cup and took a sip of whatever potent alcohol they brewed on this rock. Needles of pain danced through my jaw. Maybe she’d helped Fran get me out of Asgard just to vent. If that was all, I’d happily take it. “Now, about your cargo and our payment …”
She smiled, but it was that shark’s smile. “How has someone not killed you yet?”
I released the grip on my pistol. “It’s not for a lack of trying.”
Fran had returned to buttering up the crowd, hopefully fishing for paying jobs. I’d prefer to get paid for a return journey somewhere, but if we had to leave with an empty hold, I wouldn’t lose any sleep.
“Fran tells me you’re a big part of my prison breakout,” I said.
Ade narrowed her eyes.
“You have to tell me how you got Asgard airspace clearance codes.”
“I’m not telling you shit, Captain Shepperd.”
“Oh, we’re back to captain now? I figured we were on a first name basis, considering how close we are.”
Her upper lip twitched. She stepped forward, inside my personal space, and peered into my eyes. “If you tell anyone about what happened, I’ll have you strung up, stripped, and flayed so the vultures can feast on your prized possessions.”
Something cool and hard pressed between my legs, a little too close for comfort. A smile teased my lips but didn’t settle in. “Is that your dagger against my balls, or are you just pleased to see me?”
She gave the dagger a tiny twitch to the right. “Your smart mouth is gonna get you killed.”
I swallowed. “Last time we met, I seem to remember you enjoying my smart mouth and what I could do with it.”
It’s pretty hard to ignore an iron guard when she’s all up in your face and holding a dagger to your jewels, but I somehow took a sip of my drink as if I didn’t give a fuck. I was in her territory, surrounded by her people. If she wanted me dead, she’d make it happen.
She huffed a laugh and removed the dagger. “Lucky you’re here actually. I got a job for you, fixer.”
“Luck?” Luck had nothing to do with it.
“Right …” she drawled. “You don’t believe in luck.”
I needed more drink. If an ex-pirate needed something or someone fixing, it sure wouldn’t be easy. It’s not as though she had morals or lacked connections. I wouldn’t like this job, but given how she’d sprung me out of Asgard, saying no wouldn’t win me back any favors.
“How much you payin’?” I scanned the crowd for Fran but couldn’t find her. In the old days, she’d be close by, ready to back me up. These days? Who knew?
“I’m not payin’. You owe me. So this little job is your way of settling your debt.”
Great. A charity run.
My night was just getting better and better. I flicked my gaze to hers. Humor sparkled in her eyes, and with the firelight blazing behind her, she looked equal parts sinister and enticing. “And what is this job?”
“The family has had enough of fleet looking the other way. We need supplies and those fleet bastards keep hiking up the prices. One of their freighters sails by our little rock. You’re gonna steal that freighter and unload the goods in my backyard.”
I laughed, loud and sharp enough for it to echo around the quarry. Of all the things she could have asked, it had to be that.
“You’re joking,” I spluttered.
She frowned.
“You’re not joking?” Judging by her scowl, she wasn’t. My laughter died. “Steal you a fleet freighter?”
“We got word of one ripe for the picking. I’m sure a man of your many and varied talents can manage it. You have a ship and a pilot worth her weight in iron. I have fleet’s shipping route. I have it all worked out.”
I averted my gaze and took a drink.
“If you have it all worked out, why can’t you do it?” Thoughts whirred in my head. A fleet freighter? Shit. “You’re the pirate.”
“I’m an iron guard, not a pirate no more. I don’t have a ship. Besides, I don’t want to get caught.”
Things just got a whole lot more interesting—and complicated. “Pay me for your cargo, and I’ll think about it.”
The look she gave me—a half smile and a single raised eyebrow—turned salacious.
“If you’re thinking about running, just know that my cargo, which is currently in Starscream’s hold, consists of five tons of explosives that’s rigged to blow by remote switch. If you ever wanna take her back-in-black, I’d run it by me first. If you wanna keep those precious balls of yours intact, that is.” She winked and backed up. “Come find me in Irony when you’re ready to say yes.”
Bitch.
“Love you too, honey.” I waited until she’d turned away then dropped my smile. “Just fuckin’ a-mazing.”
Explosives on Starscream? I need a refill.
I sought out the barrels of alcohol and filled my cup. I wasn’t nearly drunk enough for any of this shit.
“That’ll teach you for screwing with a Cande,” came Fran’s sweet voice from over my shoulder.
“You heard, huh?”
“I heard talk around the fire of the marvelous Captain Shepperd, who will be generously supplying the miners and trading folk with some new clothes and enough supplies to get them through the next few cycles. He sounds like a hero.”
“He sounds like a fucking asshole.” I turned to find her, my expression no doubt less than impressed. “The Cande cargo contains explosives.”
“What?”
“Yeah. The Candes guarantee that we don’t fuck off without their say-so.”
If the Candes had a surplus of anything, it was of iron and explosives. I should have guessed. I should have cut the cargo open. Explosives?!
&nb
sp; “That bitch set me up to get you here. Pinche puta.”
At least she’d gotten one over on Fran too. Fran liked surprises about as much as I did, and given the fury flashing in her green eyes, she appeared to be mulling over all the ways she could make Ade suffer. I could get on board with those thoughts—later.
“Wanna get drunk?”
She screwed up her nose. “Not with you.”
“Well, there’s a surprise.”
“I’m going back to Starscream to check what she said is true.”
I shrugged. “Just don’t fuck with it and blow yourself to bits. I need Starscream not to be in pieces when I get back.”
She turned to leave, then paused and asked, “So we are stealing a fleet freighter?”
“Fuck no,” I lied. I’d tell Fran what she needed to know and nothing more. “I’ll figure it out.”
I lifted my can of alcoholic swill. “Here’s to life in-the-black. May we wish it on our enemies.”
Chapter Eight: #1001
The two security guards posted outside of James’s residence were easy enough to disable. After hiding their unconscious bodies, I stood on sentry duty while James retrieved what he needed to escape Janus without tripping the bioscanners.
Without his assistance, I may never have awoken inside the Chitec lab. Had another technician been tasked with my service—one who didn’t have a sick sister to consider—perhaps I would already be gone, with my synthetic memories scattered like lost data fragments. So while logic dictated I leave him, I ignored it—for now. If he proved to be too much of a liability, I’d reconsider.
While waiting on the stolen autobike outside his house, I found my gaze drawn to the curve of Janus in the distance, and to the three glass towers—Chen Hung’s towers. They sparkled like jewels in the Janus orbit station crown. Inside my processes, I cradled memories of those towers but let them lay undisturbed. If I woke them, they’d seep through my construction and coil around my power core heart.
James tapped against his window and waved me inside.
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