Heart of a Smuggler

by Heart of a Smuggler (lit)

  And Gabie’s crew was her weak link, which made her vulnerable to outsiders. But she wasn’t scared of Shamon.

  “Paz, he won’t hu—” she began.

  Nay! In a lightning move, Shamon grabbed Gabie and swung her in front of him, clamping one arm around her waist to pin her arms to her sides, and his other hand he placed firmly over her mouth. If she reassured Paz, the boy would never talk.

  Shamon’s actions only annoyed Gabie, but it sure scared Paz. He glanced frantically around.

  “Last time,” Shamon growled. “Who is gone?”

  Stars, the wench was a wriggler. She was trying to shake her head at Paz and kick loose at the same time. If Paz didn’t answer soon, Shamon was going to have to release the little eel or risk squeezing her too tight, something he couldn’t bring himself to do.

  Paz, thank the suns, couldn’t take the sight of Gabie in the giant’s grip and looked frantically back at the door leading into the ship.

  And suddenly Shamon knew. “Emet is gone?”

  Paz looked like he expected the roof the cargo hold to fall on him.

  Shaking his head, Shamon released Gabie, who sprung in front of Paz like a little angry lycat, all cute and bristling.

  “Cripes, you didn’t have to bully him!” she accused.

  Folding his arms across his chest, Shamon arced one brow at her. “Well, you weren’t going to tell me, wench. And why the big secret about Emet going, anyway? I knew he was with you, and you said he was leaving when he was well enough.” He shook his head.

  “I’m just trying to keep you out of things.” Exasperated, Gabie threw up her hands. “The less you know, the better you’re off.”

  Oh-ho. “What things?”

  Gabie looked at him.

  Shamon looked at Paz.

  “Go back inside, Paz,” Gabie ordered.

  The boy didn’t need any more urgings. He disappeared through the doorway into the ship, his long legs making short work of the distance.

  Well, now he just might get the whole story from Gabie about the slaves, about security, about everything. About the fight... Shamon blinked. The fight. Emet was gone.

  A sudden hunch took hold, and he strode back down the ramp to stare at the vacant bay beside the Larceny. The sleek little space ship that had been there earlier was gone. Emet was gone. Security was tailing Gabie, so how did she get Emet away without being discovered?

  By making sure security knew she was in a tavern and starting a brawl. A diversion.

  Hands on hips, he tipped back his head and sucked in a deep breath. “While you caused a brawl guaranteed to draw security from the Larceny to you in the settlement, Emet got away on that little ship undetected.”

  She appeared beside him and looked at the empty bay. “My, you pieced it together nicely.”

  “You risked your life for Emet.”

  “No big risk. I was hiding under the table, remember?”

  As if he could forget. “Gabie, you could have just told me.”

  “Like I said, some things you don’t need to know.” She looked up at him. “So how did you know security was watching me?”

  Shamon pursed his lips. The wench didn’t miss a word. Ah well, ’twas for the best. Once they had things between them in the open, then he could sort out what to do.

  “Someone saw Sabra and Freeman go into your ship. I made Sabra tell me what was happening.”

  “You made Sabra tell?” Gabie looked dubious.

  “I had information she wanted, and I also threatened to ask questions about you. She didn’t have much choice.”

  “That was dangerous.”

  “Sabra is no fool.”

  “Pfft.”

  Surprised, Shamon looked down at her.

  Her eyes twinkled up at him, the lights of the docking bay spearing across her face enough to show her amusement. “She actually fell for that?”

  “For what?” Slowly he turned to face her.

  “Thinking you’d ask questions in the wrong places? Please!”

  “Lass, Sabra couldn’t risk anything. She knew I’d ask questions and even though she knew I’d be careful, she couldn’t risk anything getting out.”

  “Kind of late, don’t you think? Whoever saw the security enter my ship would spread a few tidbits around.”

  “Trust me, whoever saw you will be keeping their mouth shut.”

  “Might be too late.”

  “You don’t sound too worried.”

  Gabie smiled widely.

  Shamon shook his head. “You need someone to watch out for you, wench.”

  “I can do that myself.”

  “Aye, you’re doing a great job of it so far.”

  “Trying to pick a fight?” she queried cheerfully.

  “How are your slaves going?”

  She fell silent almost immediately. The merriment left her eyes, and Shamon could have kicked himself, he felt so lousy.

  “Lass, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” He reached for her.

  Avoiding him, she took a step back. “Sabra told you that much.”

  His step was longer, and he caught her hand. “Aye.”

  “This isn’t something I want to do, Shamon.” Anger wiped away the merriment in her eyes, and Shamon wanted nothing more than to put the sparkle back. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other until this is over.”

  “Not likely, Gabie. I need to know every move you make.”

  “What for?” She tugged at her hand. “And let go.”

  He ignored her attempt to get away from him. “Because I won’t let you go into danger without being nearby.”

  “That’s kind of silly considering you’re not part of the deal,” she returned sharply. “And will you let go?”

  “Nay.”

  She glared up at him.

  Shamon met her gaze squarely. “Here’s the truth of the matter, lass. You’re mine and I take care of my own.”

  “Listen, trader, that big he-man attitude might work with other women, but it doesn’t do anything for me.”

  “You’re going to inform me of your every move.”

  “What? I don’t think so!”

  “You’ll let me know who you’re meeting, where and when.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Times, dates and places.”

  “Cripes, I already have to knuckle under to Sabra and Ra—others. I don’t plan on adding you to the list!”

  “Fine. Then I’m travelling with you.”

  Gabie’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “Aye.” Shamon glanced into the cargo hold. “I have no doubt you have plenty of hiding places.”

  “Nothing that could fit your giant frame!” Gabie shook her head. “No, Shamon, no way. You are not coming with me.”

  “Here’re the choices, Gabie. You either let me know every step you take, or I’m coming.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it and then shook her head. “What makes you think Sabra is going to allow that?”

  “Sabra won’t know and if she does find out, ’twill be too late.”

  “She’ll stop the Larceny and drag you off by your ears. Which isn’t a bad idea.”

  “She won’t stop the ship, ’twill bring it to the notice of the smugglers.”

  “Look.” She took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself. “Shamon, this is ridiculous. This job was forced on me. I just want to get it over with. You’re complicating things where complications don’t need to be.”

  “Gabie, ’tis dangerous. ’Tis no guarantee that things won’t go wrong. You could get seriously hurt.” Just the thought made his chest tight. “You’re my lass and ’tis my job to see you’re safe.”

  “Shamon, we’re just in the beginnings of a relationship. Apparently.” Gabie tugged on her hand again. “Don’t make this your business when it’s not.”

  “Too late.” He drew her gently to him. “You’re my business.”

  “You’re complicating things.”

&
nbsp; “Nay. I just want to know where you are and what’s happening. ’Tis a reasonable request.”

  “None of this is reasonable. Just back off.”

  “Two choices. Keep me informed or I’m coming with you.”

  “Maybe I’ll tell Des and she’ll just shoot you. And trust me, that insane woman would do it in a heartbeat.” Gabie rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I’m surprised she didn’t shoot me. She looked mad enough.”

  “What’s your choice, Gabie?”

  “None of the above. I get this job done, get security off my back, get Ra— others off my back, and then we can take up where we left off. If you still want to.”

  “Two choices,” he said relentlessly, and took a step forward.

  She took two steps back. “No choices.”

  “You have five minutes to decide, or I’ll decide for you.”

  Gabie looked up at him and sighed. That sigh went straight to Shamon’s heart, especially when a glimmer of sadness showed in her bright green eyes.

  Reaching out, he slid his finger beneath her chin and caressed her. Leaning down until they were almost on eye level, he studied her. Aye, she did look sad. Confused. The normal merriment and laughing defiance had suddenly disappeared. Her shoulders slumped a little, and she looked... lost.

  That tore right through him. Sliding his hand behind her neck, he cupped her nape and drew her forwards until her forehead was resting against his. They looked deep into each other’s eyes.

  “Lass, let me help you,” he said softly.

  “I can’t,” she replied softly. “Shamon, you say you’re worried about me, but have you thought how scared I am that if you get involved, you could be the one hurt?”

  “I need to know you’re all right, Gabs. Can’t you understand?”

  “And I need to know you’re safe while this stupid bloody mission goes ahead.” Her soft sigh was warm against his lips. “I have enough to worry about with Misha, Olin and Paz, without worrying about you as well. Stay away from me until this is over, Shamon. Please.”

  The trembling words touched him to his soul. His thumb rubbed gently under her hairline.

  “Then you have an understanding of how worried I am about you, lass. I’m furious that Sabra would drag you into a hellish mess like this. I’m furious that you’d put yourself in danger to divert them while an outlaw got away. I’m furious that I can’t be by your side during this mess.”

  “No way out of it, Shamon. I have to see this through. We have to see this through.”

  “Not alone.” He held her gaze steadily. “Never alone. Just keep me informed of what’s happening, Gabs, ’tis all I ask. So I know where you are, when you’re there, who you’re meeting. If something goes wrong I need to know.”

  “So you can come flying to the rescue?” She smiled tremulously.

  “Aye.”

  “Security will be there before you, you know that, right?”

  “But ’twon’t be the same. ’Twon’t be me.”

  “Shamon—”

  “If ’twas me facing so much uncertainty, would you be worried?”

  “Of course.”

  “Would you want to know what was happening?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why won’t you tell me?”

  “Because you’re not the one in danger, so it doesn’t count.”

  That was so typical of her that Shamon couldn’t stop the rueful chuckle from escaping. He shook his head, feeling the silky skin of her forehead against his.

  “’Tis double standards, lass.”

  “Hey, I’m into private enterprise. Double standards are the norm for me.” She smiled.

  To Shamon, that smile was like the sun coming out from behind a dark cloud. He kissed her gently.

  Steps sounded and Gabie straightened, Shamon’s hand sliding from her nape. She turned to Misha, who had stepped out onto the ramp.

  Misha nodded briefly to Shamon but returned her gaze to Gabie. “Someone on the viscomm wants to talk to you.”

  “I’m coming.” She turned back to Shamon and he could see the glint of relief in her eyes. “I have to go. I’ll see you later, all right?”

  “Gabie.” He tugged her close by the grip he still had on her hand. “You’ll tell me?”

  She hesitated. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Gabie, this is important. You’re needed now...” Misha’s voice trailed away apologetically.

  “I have to go.” Gabie stood up on tip toe and kissed him swiftly on the lips.

  “Gabs—”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  Shamon could only watch as she disappeared up the stairwell into the depths of the ship. For several seconds he gazed into the darkness of the cargo hold before jumping down off the ramp and striding back to the trade ship.

  He knew Gabie. She wouldn’t tell him where she was going, and he couldn’t keep track of her if she didn’t want him to know. But there was another way to ensure he knew where she went, and that was to plant a tracking device on her ship.

  ’Twas time to talk to Torkra.

  He found him dozing on his bunk. Torkra opened his eyes when Shamon knocked on his door, swinging up into a sitting position when he entered.

  Torkra grinned. “Have a little disagreement with your lass?”

  “What would you know about it?” Kicking out the chair under the desk, Shamon dropped down onto it. “You were busy with a winsome tavern wench, if I recall, while we went after that little smuggler.”

  “Heddam informed us.”

  “She’s stubborn.” Shamon shook his head.

  Torkra grinned wider. “Find out why she started that brawl?”

  “She was diverting the attention of Security while Emet made his getaway.”

  “She told you that? I’m surprised she’d confess so easily.”

  “She didn’t. Paz told me in not so many words. Came belting down the cargo hold saying something about ‘they’ve gone’ and I realized when I noticed that the small ship next door was gone and...” Shamon suddenly stilled.

  Torkra looked at him questioningly.

  “‘They’. Paz said ‘they’.”

  “More than one person,” Torkra stated. “So could it be Emet and one of her crew?”

  “No. She knows she needs them all right now to keep suspicion at bay.” A nasty thought surfaced. “So who else did she send with Emet? One of the slaves? All of them?”

  “Nay, I doubt that. She knows she needs those slaves, and she’d put all her friends and herself in danger if she set them free now. Those slaves are under security surveillance, I would think.”

  “So who went with Emet?” Shamon looked at Torkra.

  Torkra shrugged.

  It was something to think over later. Right now, Shamon had other things to sort out.

  “I know you and Sonja get together and work on a few little extras,” Shamon began.

  Torkra held up one hand. “’Tis all legal, I assure you.”

  “Right.” Shamon rolled his eyes. “Of course. Like that engine thruster that somehow found its way onto Simon’s engines. Like the blocker you somehow came by from her.”

  “That was just in case we had to avoid detection from undesirables. ’Twas Sonja’s suggestion, of course.”

  “Of course.” Torkra eyed Shamon curiously.

  “Do you have a tracking device?’ Shamon asked bluntly. “One that won’t be picked up by security or anyone else?”

  “Ah.” Torkra tapped the side of his nose and winked. “To track a certain smuggler’s ship?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  “You’re head over heels in love with the wench, Shamon. Any fool can see it.”

  “Obviously, since you did.”

  “Be nice to me.” Getting off the bunk, Torkra strode over to a wooden chest in the corner of the cabin ad opened the lid. “You want to attach it to her or the ship?”

  “’Tis a choice?” Shamon moved up behind the younger man and peered into t
he chest. “Stars, Torkra, what gadgets have you got in there?”

  “Never mind.” Going down on one knee, Torkra started to carefully sort through various small implements which Shamon had never before seen. “I do a little experimenting. Now, do you wish to plant it on Gabie or on her ship?” Taking out a small container, Torkra lifted out a tiny gadget and held it up. “This can slip into the lining of her jacket. Or…” He picked out another little container and opened the lid to reveal a tiny square no bigger than his thumb nail and no thicker than a piece of paper. “You can attach this inside the ship somewhere.”

  “You made these?” Shamon held both implements in his hand, impressed.

  “I adapted them from the prototypes available... in places.”

  “The blocker is illegal.”

  “In times of emergency, a cloaking device is necessary for protection.” Torkra laughed when Shamon raised one eyebrow at him. “Sabra knows I’m working on it.”

  “Sabra?” Shamon took a closer look at the young man, barely out of his teens.

  “Aye. She saw a couple of things I had adapted and shown Cam, and she was interested.” Torkra’s cheeks flushed a little as he added almost shyly, “If I perfect a few things to the requirement of security, they may buy the designs from me, and even better, allow me to assist in making the official models.”

  “Giving me the tracking device won’t endanger your work with her?”

  “Nay. She doesn’t know what else I’m working on. I don’t tell people everything.” Torkra grinned. “This could be a trial run.”

  Surprised, Shamon studied Torkra. He and his younger brother were the youngest of the trading crew. At nineteen years of age, Torkra was the opposite of his brother. Mikal was blonde, feisty and had a zest for life. Torkra was dark-haired, quieter, with a quirky sense of humour.

  And, it appeared, very intelligent. The youngster was a real surprise.

  “Does Simon know what you do?” Shamon queried. “Aamun?”

  “They know I tinker with things.” Torkra shrugged. “I think Simon suspects something, mainly because Sabra showed up at the ship one day wanting to talk to me, and to give me something I needed to advance one of my prototypes. But he never said anything.”

  Nay, Simon wouldn’t ask anything. Shamon could just imagine the thoughtful look on his face, though.