The traders looked up from their midday meal as Shamon came storming into the dining cabin.
“Trouble?” Simon asked quietly.
“Gabie,” Shamon informed them all, “is over her head in trouble.”
~ * ~
Mellar checked his appearance in the full-length mirror.
Behind him, Cheran studied his nails and waited patiently.
“What do you think?”
Cheran looked up. “You look regal as always.”
“That is the impression I wish to give.” Mellar crossed to the desk. “But what else?”
“You look vain. Pristine. As though any thought of murdering your wife would be beyond you.”
Mellar smiled. “Very good.” Sliding the heavy gold rings on his fingers, he admired the sparkle in the light. “Very, very good.” He straightened the high neck of his collar. “Then let us proceed to my dear, departed wife’s memorial. I can’t wait to see her body turned to ash.”
~ * ~
“They’re on course,” Tason informed Raznin.
“She’d be too worried not to be.” Leaning against the door frame, Raznin smiled in satisfaction. “Her crew was a good bargaining tool.”
Turning the chair to view his boss clearly, Tason said what they both knew. “If she’d been on her own, she might have run and hidden.”
“Yep. Her soft spot is her friends.” Raznin shook his head. “One should never be loyal to anyone but oneself.”
Well, wasn’t that handy to know. Tason stared at the empty doorway for a long time after Raznin left.
~ * ~
“These are the exact coordinates given to you by Raznin?”
“No, I made them up.”
“Sarcasm becomes you, Gabie, you know that?”
“I’m so pleased I meet with your approval, Sabra.” Gabie drummed her fingertips on the console as she looked at Sabra on the viscomm screen.
“So how many stops will you have to make on the way?”
“Four. All to refuel and restock. You know, our stores are depleting a lot faster with five extra mouths to feed.” Gabie’s smile was all teeth. “I wasn’t prepared for guests.”
Sabra, curse the security office, didn’t even blink. “Send me the coordinates now.”
“Oh, yes. At once. Of course. It’s so nice obeying orders when I’ve been a free agent for so long. I don’t know how I ever did it.” Feeling more ill-humoured by the minute, Gabie scanned the coordinates and sent them to Sabra’s viscomm. “Anything else I can run and do for you?”
“Aye. Scan all the slaves and send the picture images to me.”
“Oh, what fun.” Turning in her chair, Gabie yelled, “Misha!”
Misha stuck her head around the door. “You bellowed?”
“Sabra wants the slaves scanned and the pics sent through to her.”
“All righty.” Misha disappeared.
Turning back to the viscomm, Gabie smiled sweetly. “Do I get a gold star?”
A faint twinkle appeared in Sabra’s eyes. “You might get silver.”
“On my God, there is another emotion you have besides that of being basically a real bitch.”
Sabra laughed outright.
Cripes, Gabie couldn’t even get the woman angry. How pathetic was it that all she wanted to do was rile the security officer up? Right now, it was what she wanted to do just for the hell of it, and to vent her ill humour.
Stars, she hated being at the beck and call of someone else.
“When this is over,” she said tartly, “I’ll kick your arse.”
“Really?” Amusement lurked in Sabra’s eyes. “You and what galactic army?”
“Don’t worry, I have friends for hire.”
“You’re very brave when there’s a few million miles of space between us, smuggler.”
“Distance does a lot of things for my bravery.”
Freeman’s face appeared behind Sabra’s shoulder. “After this little adventure, Gabie, how about you and I get together?”
“How about I break your neck?”
“I’ve heard you’ll run from a fight if you can. I don’t think I’m in danger.”
“Fine. I’ll get Shamon to break your neck.”
“Yeah, that will make me scared.”
“You are such a moron.”
“If you fought with your tongue instead of running with your feet, you’d slay an army of outlaws.”
“Oh ha-ha.” And if she wasn’t forced to be in such a lousy position, Gabie could almost find herself liking Freeman. The man was a total arse and a tease, but good-humoured. Unless that was a front, too.
Probably was. He was probably programmed to be sweet and charm the ladies.
Misha came back with a tiny disc which she handed to Gabie. Knowing that Sabra was waiting for the pics, Gabie took great childish delight in checking through the pics first, having a real good look at them all and making her wait before finally entering the pics into the system. One click of a button and the pics were on their way to Sabra’s viscomm.
“Well, if that’s it, I have to go,” Gabie said. “Things to do, slaves to smuggle. You know how it is.” She flicked the switch and cut communications with the IPC security ship.
“You’ve not met these people yet,” Misha remarked.
“No. I’m trying to avoid it.”
“I noticed.”
“Huh?”
“You never volunteer to bring them their meals or stand guard since they boarded yesterday.”
“Perks of being captain, honey.”
Misha grunted.
“So, how’s Emet doing?” Gabie stood up and stretched leisurely.
“He’s a bit better. Lucid. Olin says his wound is healing well.”
“Goodo.” Gazing at nothing in particular, Gabie rubbed her chin.
“Now what?” Misha queried.
“Now we fly to our first stop over, refuel and restore and continue. I want to get this thing over with, and then we’re all going to disappear for a while.”
One white brow arched. “Oh, really? You think the Daamen trader is going to let you simply disappear?”
Damn it. Her friend knew. Gabie feigned a yawn.
“I know you spent the night with Shamon,” Misha continued with a small smirk.
“You don’t know anything.”
“One look at your face yesterday morn and I knew. I knew.”
Gabie rolled her eyes and picked up the book sitting on the console.
“So, was he as good a ride as Illona reckons?”
“How would Illona know?” Gabie returned a trifle too tartly, and cleared her throat. “Illona wanted to bed him but he never tussled with her in the sheets. She told us that already.”
“She reckons she’s a good judge of character and that Shamon would be a hot lover.” Misha followed her from the cabin. “So, was she right?”
Oh, cripes, yes. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You’re blushing.”
“Keep this up and you’ll be crying, because I’m going to hurt you.”
“My, my, my.” Misha kept pace with her. “A little defensive, aren’t we?”
Gabie ignored her.
“So when are you seeing him again?”
Gabie turned into her cabin. “I’m not sure.” And that didn’t feel good, either.
Misha followed her. “Soon?”
“How can it be soon?” Gabie threw the book on her bunk. “Look at the mess we’re in. How can I meet him?”
“Well, we are trying to maintain a normal routine and behaviour, and that would include meeting him if we saw him. We start avoiding people, simply landing, refuelling and restocking and taking off again, and we’re going to attract attention.”
Turning, Gabie looked at her. “Sometimes you’re too darned smart.”
“Just a hidden talent.” Misha buffed her nails on her shirt. “So, you seeing him again soon?”
“Well, he did want our schedule...”
&nbs
p; “So we’ll send them to him.”
“Stop right there. I don’t want to unwittingly drag him into the middle of something.”
“Why would he be in the middle of something? Our delivery is after four stops. See him before our fourth stop. Besides,” Misha held up one finger, “That’ll make him less likely to hunt you down.”
Now there was a delicious thought. Hunted down by Shamon. A little streak of heat went right through Gabie.
Then she blinked, bringing her friend’s face into focus. “Hang on. What makes you think he’d hunt me down?”
The smile that crept across the pretty albino’s face was almost gentle. “Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That giant trader wants you, Gabie. He wants you bad. He won’t let you just disappear.”
“Cripes, when did you become such an authority on the subject?”
“I observe more than you think.” Misha tapped her forehead.
“You trying to tell me you have the third eye?”
“No, Gabie. I’m pointing to my eyes.”
“That’s your forehead.”
“I’m not about to poke myself in the eye because you need a true visual view.”
“It would be amusing.”
About to say something else, they were diverted by a moan from across the corridor. Immediately they hurried out of the cabin and into the one Emet was lying in.
It didn’t bypass Gabie’s notice that Misha went straight to the man lying in the bunk, her hand gently smoothing the hair back from his face, her face softening.
Well, how about that? Gabie looked from Misha to Emet, to find him smiling slightly up into her friend’s face. And his smile was gentle.
Whoa. Gabie blinked.
“Are you all right, Emet?” Misha asked softly.
“Just a little twinge when I shifted. Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”
“You didn’t,” she replied, reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table.
Slipping one arm behind his shoulders, she helped him sit up and held the glass to his lips. Emet placed his own trembling hand at the base of it, but Misha kept hold, steadying it as he drank. When he’d finished, she eased him back down onto the mattress. The tenderness of her expression struck Gabie.
Hells bells, her friend was halfway in love with the claimed, wanted outlaw.
Misha spoke softly to Emet, and they both laughed, Emet weakly, Misha with tender amusement.
Seeing that they were both preoccupied with each other, Gabie backed out of the cabin and half shut the door.
Turning, she saw Olin watching her through sleep fogged eyes. Obviously he’d just awoken from his nap.
Pulling him aside, she pointed to the cabin door and whispered, “When did that happen?”
He scratched his head and yawned. “Quickly.”
“No shit? How come I didn’t know about it?”
“You were too busy with your Daamen trader.” Olin started for the dining cabin. “Women.”
Standing in the corridor, Gabie scratched her head. Things were taking a weird turn. A very weird turn. She was smuggling human cargo, she had a wanted, claimed outlaw onboard. Her friend was falling in love with said claimed, wanted outlaw. She herself was lusting after a Daamen trader, and she was the chew toy between two powerful groups.
Very, very weird. Gabie shook her head. Only one thing for it. Read a book and try to forget about the whole thing for a while.
~ * ~
Shamon looked at the schedule that Gabie had sent to the viscomm while the traders had been sleeping. The schedule didn’t suit him. Gabie was heading in the opposite direction compared to where the trade ship was heading. The Larceny was heading towards the Outlaw Sector, while the Daamen trade ship was heading further into the Lawful Sector towards home.
Leaning back in the chair, he looked grimly at the viscomm. Four scheduled stops. He could get onboard during one of those stops, except that Sabra was right. His presence would be an immediate alarm for smugglers. He was too big to hide anywhere... then again, the Larceny probably had hiding spots no one but the crew knew about.
And he’d be there to protect Gabie.
But he could also provoke a worse attack. Gabie was a valuable asset to both the big smugglers and security. Aye, he wanted to protect her, but his presence could have the opposite effect.
Damn it.
Blowing out a breath, he propped his heels up on the console and gazed out through the space shield at the stars in the black beyond while he thought through the problem.
Should he tell Gabie that he knew what she was doing? Would that make her avoid him? Aye, probably ’twould. She’d agreed to meet him, but if she had an inkling he was trying to get close to her to protect her, she’d likely cut off communications. It didn’t matter, he could get her tracked down, but he’d rather she came to him of her own free will.
’Twas a good sign that she still wanted to see him, even though she was in the grip of security. But still, he wanted to be on hand to protect her if the need arose. Aye, security was a tough bunch and could handle almost anything, but still ’twasn’t him with Gabie. But he did have another plan...
Switching frequencies on the viscomm, he did a search of other trade ships in the areas Gabie had scheduled as stops. There were two ships. They could notify him when they saw her ship land and take off, but that would be it. ’Twas no way Shamon could involve his friends in anything dangerous. Nay. He’d have to do that himself.
He started searching through small space crafts nearby that he could lease or buy. There were several but none he really fancied, though what choice did he have? Besides which, he had to get ships leave from Simon, though he knew ’twouldn’t be an issue. One thing the traders did understand was protecting the wenches they loved.
Clicking on one of the small space crafts, he studied the description.
“Thinking of going somewhere?” Simon drawled from behind him.
Shamon glanced up as his friend and captain sat down in the chair beside him. “Gabie’s scheduled stops aren’t in the same direction as ours. I have to go after her, Simon.”
“You won’t be popular with security.”
Shamon shrugged.
“What are Gabie’s scheduled stops?”
Shamon brought the schedule up on screen.
Simon studied them and grinned slowly. “Well, what do you know. Seems ’tis your lucky day, friend.”
“What?”
“I was informed just now that my wife, Des, has been called off duty and will just happen to be at Gabie’s third stop.”
“She must be on watch there for her arrival.”
“I’d say so. She didn’t say.”
Nay, she wouldn’t. Even their husbands didn’t know exactly what their wives were up to, though Simon would be able to have a good guess now.
“So we’re heading for the planet Des is on now.”
Shamon looked at him. “You’re turning the ship around?”
“Aye. I’ve spoken to the crew and they don’t mind diverting. ’Twill put us two weeks behind getting home.” Entering the change of co-ordinations into the control panel, Simon set the new direction. “The crew and I did a deal. They’ll give me that time in trade for the extra two weeks at home. It suits us all.”
Aye, Shamon could see his crew mates understanding Simon’s desire to see his wife. Even when home on Daamen, he didn’t see her as often as the other men saw their wives, not when she was working. When she was home, it was for longer stretches and Simon stayed with her, just as Cam did. Usually someone else either took over as temporary captain of Simon’s ship and went off to do his trading, or else the whole crew spent more time at home. It worked for them all.
And it meant Shamon would get to see Gabie without having to leave the trade ship. There would be no alarms raised amongst whatever outlaws Gabie was dealing.
“So you see, ’tis no need to leave us.” Lifting his arms, Simon linked his hands behind his he
ad and regarded Shamon seriously. “This little wench means a lot to you.”
“I’m going to wed her,” Shamon replied bluntly. “And pack her away for safe keeping.”
A twinkle appeared in Simon’s eyes. “Have you told her this?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“She knows we’re in a relationship.”
“She knows because you told her.”
“Aye.”
Simon laughed. “And she just went along with it?”
“She tried a few reasonable arguments and I gave reasonable solutions.” Leaning back in the chair, Shamon crossed one ankle over the opposite knee and folded his arms. “She is the only wench for me, Simon, strange as that sounds.”
Simon held his hands up, palms out. “Friend, when I see the wenches we’ve ended up claiming as our own, nothing surprises me anymore.”
Shamon grinned. “They are an interesting mix of wenches.”
Simon’s smile faded and his expression became serious. “Shamon, I’m behind you on this. We all are. I won’t interfere in security business, ’tis an agreement I am in with Des, just as Cam is with Sabra. Just as all the wives and husbands are of their security partners. But I will help you as much as I can, you know that, right?”
Shamon smiled at him. “Aye, I know. And I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that would put you in direct confrontation with Des. Getting between a husband and wife is not good.”
“Of course...” Simon’s gaze drifted to the wall above Shamon’s head. “If I happen to stumble across any information that might not exactly be... you know... confidential. Like sort of overhearing something that might help without back lashing against anyone... well, that might happen and I might pass it on to you. You know. Just out of interest.”
Friends were God’s gift to people. “I appreciate that, friend.” Reaching forward, Shamon gripped Simon’s upper arm for a few seconds. “I really do.”
Simon smiled. “You all risked your lives to help me rescue my Des. ’Tis no way I would let you do this alone. I’ll help where I can and if that means transport, well, we’re all behind you.”
“This stop is good.”
“Further if needed.”
“A week—”
“We agreed on a week for this, but we’ve all been discussing things and if it means to save your wench we need to travel further, then we’re all behind you, Shamon.”
Heart of a Smuggler Page 22