by Anthology
“I know after our last, um, encounter, I’m probably the last person you want contacting you. But I find myself in need of your specific talents.” He frowned. “Truth is, I’m in trouble, Selea. I’m hoping you’ll see your way to meet with me.” Rhykar swallowed and tilted his head, his virtual gaze piercing her. “I’m asking for your help. A temporary truce to our ongoing adversarial dance. You’re the only one I trust to set the record straight. I’ve attached the details.”
His image vanished, replaced by a list of information. Selea sucked in a breath. Drek!
“Well, there’s your next bounty,” Ten murmured, an odd grin on her face.
“No way.” She rounded on her. “It’s a trap. Why else would he ask me to meet?”
“Maybe because he really does need your help.” Her friend shrugged. “And if not, you can tag and cuff him, get the rest of the rent. Or….”
“Or what?” she snapped.
“How many times have you almost snagged Rhykar? Six, eight?” She slanted her head toward the screen. “I can understand why he continues to elude capture. He’s frickin’ hot.”
Heat crept up her neck. “Bounty hunting isn’t a game. It’s dangerous work.”
“I’m not denying that. I’m simply saying that I think there’s more to the two of you than you may realize.”
The memory of Rhykar’s mouth on hers filled Selea’s mind. He’d tasted so good. She swallowed.
Ten arched a platinum eyebrow. “Oh my gods. There is more going on.”
She grimaced. “He kissed me.”
“I knew it!” Ten grinned, delight suffusing her face.
“It was a tactic to escape.” She shook her head. “He needed to get in close, so he could dose me with a knockout drug.” Though he had apologized before tagging her neck with the laced dart. She glared at the screen. “This is just another ploy. He needs me somehow to help disseminate his conspiracy theories about Vast Innovations.”
“I’ve read a few of his allegations. Makes some compelling arguments about VI being in bed with the crime syndicate.” A sly grin curved her mouth. “Course, there is something to be said for being in bed. Especially with a guy who looks like chiseled stone wrapped in a whole lotta yumminess.”
“Oh my gods, Ten. You’re drooling over a wanted criminal.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you have no morals?”
“Did he kill anyone?”
“No, nothing so extreme. He’s wanted for corporation defamation and corporate espionage.”
Ten shrugged. “Then he’s just dangerous enough to be interesting.”
“He’s still a criminal.”
“Sounds more like he’s onto something, and VI’s trying to shut him up.”
Selea scanned the information he’d sent and leaned forward. “Earth? He’s on Earth?” She read further down the list. “And he wants me to meet him through some one-night stand service?”
“Told you he was interested in you.” Ten smiled. “You’re going to meet him, right?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Sure could use the bounty.”
Ten stood and crossed to the bedroom. “I know what you could use, and it’s not the bounty.”
She groaned. “Shut up. I don’t cavort with criminals. I bring them in.”
“Whatever you say. I’m going to get cleaned up.”
Ten disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Selea alone. She shoved her fingers through her hair and then waved her hand through the air, closing the file Rhykar had sent. None of it mattered. She wasn’t going to the meet.
“Retrieve bounty hunter wanted files.”
A long list appeared on the screen—the top item, the bounty for the murdered Vast Innovations scientist. She tapped the air, opening the file.
“Oh, frick.”
An image of Rhykar rotated on the screen, the words Wanted: Dead or Alive scrolling in bold letters across the top.
Chapter Three
With teeth gritted, Selea guided her ship through Earth’s atmosphere. The shields deflected the heat friction, no noticeable buffeting on entry, but that wasn’t what had her nerves twisted tight. Rhykar Evierse had been accused of murdering the Vast Innovations scientist. She shook her head, still trying to accept the fact that he now ranked in the top slot of the wanted dead or alive list.
And he’d sent her a personal message, asking to meet. He’d known she would come. How could she not? Gods, it seemed as though he wanted to get captured.
She flew below the cloud layer, the planet’s sun peeking over the horizon in a sleepy blend of purples and pinks. Leveling out her descent, she spotted a smattering of buildings nestled in the desert at the base of a string of rangy mountains. In the sand, a long runway lined the approach path. She shot to one end, hovering above the thin finger of concrete in a veil of morning shadows. To her right, a set of blue lights blinked on, outlining a large steel plate. Selea veered toward it and lowered the ship to the landing pad. Unbuckling her flight straps, she grazed her fingertips over the console, placing the ship systems on standby.
She paused at the exit, checked her weapon, and secured it in her shoulder holster. Opening a cabinet, she grabbed her coat and shrugged it on, the bottom brushing her calves. In a few hours, Rhykar would be secured in her brig, and they would be on their way back to Vitrion and a trial for murder.
She frowned. Murder. He didn’t seem the type. All of his offenses consisted of dissemination of conspiracy theories and making secret corporate records public. But the details of the bounty certified Rhykar had indeed murdered a scientist at Vast Industries.
She shook her head and exited the ship. At the bottom of the ramp, a young man waited. She hesitated, having expected a man in a dark suit. Instead, low-slung blue pants hung on the guy’s hips, and a tight gray shirt clung to his well-formed chest and biceps. From beneath the waistband protruded a blocky pistol grip. She imagined Ten salivating over his good looks.
Dark eyes peered from beneath a cap, the brim pulled low. “Welcome to Area Fifty-One, Ms. Val’keer.”
“Who are you?” Selea glanced around. “Where’s Mr. Smith?”
“Situation changed.” He grinned and jerked his chin toward the black bullet of a vehicle behind him. “I’m Jones. I’ll be driving you to Vegas.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust you.”
“Figured as much.” He held up one hand, keeping it clear of his gun, while he reached to his hip with the other and tossed her a thin communications device. She tapped a button, and a woman she knew as Ms. Orion, one of Earth’s emissaries, appeared on the screen.
“Ms. Val’keer, I apologize for not meeting you directly. Area Fifty-One is a secure facility. As such, we’ve got a satellite image of you both at this very moment. Mr. Jones is who he says he is and will accompany you to Las Vegas. Good luck on your mission.” She nodded, and the screen went black.
Selea descended the ramp and eyed Mr. Jones.
He opened the passenger side door. “Daylight’s burning. Let’s hit it.”
Handing the device back to him, she slipped into the seat. He shut her door and moved around to the other side, where he slid in next to her and started the engine. He shifted a knob, and a moment later, the vehicle shot forward.
They sped down a dirt road, leaving a swirling trail of dust in their wake. When they reached a highway, he glanced at her.
“Seems your boy has been giving Mr. Smith quite a lot to do.”
“Is that why he was unable to meet me?”
Mr. Jones snorted. “You do know there’s more than one Mr. Smith, right?”
“Of course,” she lied.
“The Smiths are cleaners. They’ve been taking care of the messes left behind by the other bounty hunters who’ve tried to take him in.” He cocked a brow. “Your boy is either very good or very lucky.”
“He’s a dissident accused of murder.” She focused on the road ahead of them. “And he’s not my boy.”
He smirked. “Point taken.”
“So, there are more of you, more Mr. Joneses?”
He nodded. “We’re the erasers.”
She frowned. “Erasers?”
“You should know our government has a policy. Keep the existence of extraterrestrials—i.e. you and all your bounty hunter buds and all the other freaky peeps in the universe—on the down low. An incident occurs, Mr. Smith cleans it up. No evidence for the people of Earth to stumble on and start asking questions.” He glanced at her, his dark eyes glittering. “But because of the numerous alien confrontations with your boy and subsequent cleanups, now I’m along for the ride.”
Selea swallowed. “Which means?”
He looked back to the road. “Which means you have forty-eight hours to do your job and get off the planet. Otherwise, my government contacts your government, and I do my job, which is to erase the situation and make it as though your boy never existed.” He tilted his head toward her. “And I’m very good at my job.”
She nodded. It seemed the entire universe hunted Rhykar, and from what Mr. Jones had said, dead was the preferred solution. Well, frick the universe. If she had any say, Rhykar would still be breathing when she collected her bounty on him.
She lifted her chin. “Do you have a local communications infrastructure that I can access?”
“You mean the Internet? Sure.”
He jabbed a button on the console, and a panel opened. A screen tilted up, accompanied by a keyboard.
He gestured toward the gadgets. “That what you need?”
“Yes. Thanks.” She used the unfamiliar equipment to locate and enter the required information into Madame Evangeline’s 1Night Stand site.
Mr. Jones reached forward and poked another button. A second later, loud music thrummed through the vehicle, a low beat pulsing over her skin. It appeared her escort had finished talking.
She completed the Internet entries as Rhykar had requested, and no sooner had she clicked on the Enter button than the service’s response came. It seemed Madame Evangeline had been waiting for Selea to contact her. Listed on the screen was the address for the Castillo Hotel in Las Vegas and a confirmation number.
Selea would rendezvous with Rhykar tonight. Hopefully, she would get to him in time to save his life.
Chapter Four
Rhykar tore his gaze from the door to pace the plush carpet in the Castillo Hotel room Madam Eve had reserved for him. When he’d checked in, the girl at the desk alerted him that his companion had confirmed her reservation. Any moment, he would see Selea, her shoulder-length dark curls framing sharp indigo eyes and a wide, sultry mouth.
He paused to stare at the door again. Would she storm in, shove her pistol in his face, slap a pair of engetic bonds on his wrists, and haul him off to trial? After their last encounter when he’d jerked her against him and kissed those lips he’d been obsessed with tasting, he couldn’t blame her if she tried.
He swallowed. Gods, he’d regretted having to tranq her. But there’d been no other choice. She’d had her gun jammed against his chest.
Drek, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe he should take his chances. If he could make it to his ship—
Two sharp raps sounded against the door, and his hand moved to his weapon. Too late to run.
“Yeah?” he called out.
“It’s me.”
Selea. Her voice washed over him. Would she listen to him?
The sound of the door unlatching rattled through the air, and he tensed. She slipped inside, pistol in one hand, the other setting the lock behind her. Three long strides brought the business end of her pulsegun closer to him, carried by a beauty he couldn’t deny wanting to possess. Standing his ground, he knew he should be worried about the bounty on him, but all he could do was stare at her. Gods, she was even more gorgeous than he remembered.
“It’s over, Rhykar.” Her voice held finality.
“What, you’re not even going to hear me out?”
“They’ll sort it out at trial.”
He tightened his fingers on his gun grip.
“Uh-uh” She lifted her pistol a fraction higher. “On the table. I’d rather take you in alive.”
He turned and set his weapon where she’d requested. “So, how’ve you been, Selea?”
“I’ll be better when I’ve got you on my ship and heading back to Vitrion.” She moved closer, and the sharp snap of her engetic bonds unclipping from her belt met his ears. “Hands behind your back.”
He complied. She moved closer, and he imagined her heat encompassing him. “Thought I meant more to you.”
She snorted. “You’re just another bounty.”
While she set the bond against one of his hands, her cool fingers brushing against his, he noted her slight pause before the electric band snicked around his wrist, locking in place with her thumbprint.
Not waiting for her to finish the job, he reached back, jammed his thumb behind her pistol’s trigger while wrapping his fingers around her wrist. Pivoting toward her, he twisted her hand, and she yelped. Selea jerked and tried to spin away, but Rhykar stepped forward and gathered her against him from behind.
Her dark hair brushed over his face and he inhaled. Sex and pulsefire—an irresistible combination. He tightened his embrace and pressed her print against the genetic encoder. The engetic bonds clattered to the floor.
“Miss me?”
She growled and struggled to break free. Her body wriggled against him, and he stifled a groan, pressing his pelvis against her firm bottom. Oh, how he wanted her.
“No, I didn’t miss you,” she spat. “Why the frick would you think that?”
He nuzzled closer while keeping a firm grip on the gun they both fought to gain. He skimmed the tip of his tongue along the edge of her ear, and she shivered.
“After the way you kissed me last time, it was clear you wanted me.”
She jerked her head to the side, catching his gaze from the corner of her eye. “Kissed you?”
He grinned. “Yeah.”
“You kissed me. Right before you jabbed that dart in my neck as I recall.”
“And you liked it as I recall.” He snugged her closer. “The kissing part, that is.”
“Arrogant—”
She rammed her heel on the top of his shoe, and pain jolted up his leg. A second later, she snaked her foot behind his knee and yanked while simultaneously shoving backward. They tumbled to the floor, the impact loosening his hold on her and the gun.
Selea twisted free, rounding on him with her weapon in hand. Slamming his forearm against hers, he jolted the pistol free, and surprise lit her eyes as she watched it arc through the air and bump across the carpet. She lunged toward it, but Rhykar grasped her shoulders and rolled, pinning her to the floor.
She glared up at him, and he paused, realization thundering into grim clarity.
“What?” she snapped.
“You’re really planning to collect a bounty on me.”
“Of course I am.” She tried to pull her hands free. “You’re wanted for murder.”
“What, you really believe that?” He stared in utter shock. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
She stilled. “Then let me take you in. The courts will sort it out.”
“It’s a frame.”
“Of course it is.” She sighed. “Everyone’s after you.”
He shook his head. “Only VI.”
She shrugged. “You killed one of Vast Innovations’ top scientists. What did you think would happen?”
“No.” He gazed into her bright indigo eyes and willed her to believe him. “I swear to you, I didn’t kill anyone. But it does explain the inordinate number of crazed hunters tracking me.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Does that number include me?”
He smiled, leaning closer. “No.” Unable to stop himself, he brushed his lips over hers. “You’re the right kind of crazy.”
He noted the spark of desire in her eyes, and satisfaction filled him. Duty might dictate she take him in, but sh
e wanted him, too. He crushed his mouth to hers and when she parted her lips, her tongue darting against his, he moaned. Lust careened into his veins. She was the only one who could save him, the only one who could condemn him.
She shifted beneath him and raised up, devouring his mouth in a kiss that sent his head spinning and his groin aching. With a sexy whimper, she dipped her chin and bit his lip. Caught off guard, he pulled back, and at the same moment, she jerked her hand higher and bucked her hip, throwing him off-balance. He rolled to the side, and Selea scrambled for the pulsegun.
Rhykar lunged after her, snagged her ankle, and dragged her back. Kicking, she fought to best him, but frick if he’d let that happen. He shoved her to the side and grabbed the pistol. Rounding, he drew a bead on her.
She froze, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. He snorted at her mock surprise and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coming away with a streak of blood.
He glared at her. “Really?”
“Call it recompense for the dart in my neck.”
He laughed. “Fair enough.”
“So, what’s the plan here, Rhykar?” She glanced from the huge window to the door and back to him. “No way out.”
“I came to you for help.” He allowed his gaze to wander over her, taking in her rumpled clothing, disheveled hair. The package was more alluring than the daydreams of their first kiss. Gods, he’d hoped for more than this. “I go out there, I’m dead. I stay here, you’ll have to shoot me cause I’m not going in willfully. Seems either way I’m finished.”
“So, what then?”
His attention landed on her swollen, wet lips and his body answered for him. “Strip.”
Her eyes widened, astonishment surfacing on her face. “What?”
He brandished the pistol. “Strip.”
She frowned, but with a slight shrug, her long coat slipped from her shoulders and crumpled to the floor. Beneath, dark pants hugged her hips and a tight, green shirt accentuated delicious dips and curves. Rhykar stared. Oh scret, she was really going to do it.