Break Out (A Blood Hunter Novel, book 1)

by Nina Croft

  Hiding his grin, Rico turned away and hunted for his clothes, scattered around the floor of the cabin where he’d dropped them. He picked up his pants and pulled them on, then found his gun belt lying on the chest by the bed and fastened it around his waist, strapped it down to his thigh. He shoved the laser pistol into the holster just as a faint vibration from the ship pulsed up through his bare feet.

  “What’s that?” he asked Tannis.

  “I told Daisy to fire up the engines.”

  He scowled. Daisy was yet another stray. They’d picked up her damaged escape pod floating aimlessly in deep space after the experimental station where she was living had been attacked and her family massacred. She was crazy about flying, and grabbed every opportunity to take the controls of El Cazador. She was okay—a good flier—though her tendency to follow him around like a lost puppy could be irritating. “Well, she’d better not be in my seat.”

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t dare.” Tannis didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm from her voice. Smartass.“ But we’re rendezvousing with the client in orbit, and we should have been there five minutes ago. I don’t want to lose this one. We need the money.”

  “You’re so mercenary.”

  He pulled on his tall black boots and black shirt, then strapped on the leather shoulder holster. He picked up the sword from the floor where Tannis had dropped it and slid it into the scabbard so it hung down his back.

  Finally, he pulled his hair into a ponytail. He glanced up to find Tannis and Al watching him and raised an eyebrow in query.

  “Poser,” Tannis muttered.

  Rico caught a grin on the boy’s face, which was quickly wiped away when he saw Rico watching. The kid wasn’t as downtrodden as he pretended to be, which begged the question—what was he hiding? He made a mental note to find out, but not right now. He turned to Tannis. “You just wish you could look half as good.”

  “Yeah, right. And put some dark glasses on. We don’t want you frightening off the client. She sounded the nervous type.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Chapter Three

  Skylar peered out of the viewer as her shuttle drew close to the larger ship. A Star Cruiser Mark 3. She was very impressive and very beautiful, with elegant lines. Wide at the rear, tapering to a sharp point at the front, the sleek shape was mirrored by twin propulsion units, which sat on either side. She was also entirely black, except for her name painted in silver script along the hull: El Cazador de la Sangre.

  She’d never heard the ship referred to as anything other than El Cazador. Skylar didn’t recognize the language, and she quickly accessed her AI system. She blinked her eyes as the information came up on her internal monitor.

  “El Cazador de la Sangre”: The language, Spanish, originated on Earth and hadn’t been used in nearly a thousand years. The words translated as Blood Hunter.

  A shiver of unease rippled through her. She’d come across some strange, dark rumors regarding the owner and pilot of El Cazador while doing her research, but nothing that could be substantiated. Still it had piqued her curiosity enough to select this ship and crew over others who had been just as suitable. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if giving in to that curiosity had been wise.

  She mentally shrugged. It was too late to change her mind now. She had ten days to complete this mission, and it would take at least eight to reach Trakis One. No time to find a replacement.

  But she hadn’t realized how isolated she would feel once she cut the link to the others. Mostly she liked it, and she knew that when the time came to re-mesh, she would regret the loss of privacy. All the same, she occasionally missed the sense of being part of something larger, and at times like these, it would have been nice to know she wasn’t entirely alone.

  The shuttle gave a small shudder as it locked into the docking bay of the ship. The hatch closed behind her, and Skylar unstrapped her harness and stood, wobbling precariously on her high heels.

  “Goddamn, stupid shoes,” she muttered. Why would anyone voluntarily wear such things? She caught sight of her reflection in the blank screen and scowled—she bore a remarkable resemblance to an unregistered pleasure provider from the dark side of Trakis Two. Not that she’d ever actually been to Trakis Two, but she’d heard plenty about it—the planet where ‘you can party forever, because the night never ends’ with more pleasure providers than the rest of the universe put together. No doubt all looking just as ridiculous as this.

  But wasn’t that exactly what she’d been aiming for?

  Grabbing her small silver bag, she pressed her other hand to the door panel and stepped out, the tap of her heels on the metal floor echoing in the cavernous docking bay.

  This was her first time on a pirate ship, and she was impressed despite herself. She’d been expecting something a little bit seedy. Instead, the area was spotless, the ship gleaming silver and black, the air fresh—no stinting on recycling here. No one came forward to meet her, and she stopped in front of a security camera angled over the doorway, almost twitching with nervous tension. She’d planned this for so long, her whole future depended on success, and now she just wanted to get things moving.

  “Follow me, please.”

  At her feet, an automated guide hovered just above the floor, spherical and matte black with no markings.

  Skylar had been on a Mark 3 cruiser before and knew the ship consisted of three levels. The lower level housed the cooling and recycling systems as well as the engines. The middle section held the docking bay and a small cargo area—though this ship wasn’t built to carry cargo. She was a fighting machine, sleek and deadly.

  The upper level housed the bridge and the crew’s living quarters. She guessed this was where they were heading as she followed the guide through the bay, up a ramp, along a narrow corridor, ever deeper into the heart of the ship. With each step, Skylar’s sense of isolation grew, as though some great beast had swallowed her whole. She could only hope it would dislike the taste and eventually spit her out again.

  Finally, the guide led her into a conference room. “Wait in here, please.”

  Skylar surveyed her surroundings. More silver and black. The walls were bare, with no portholes this far inside the ship. At the far end, a group of low, comfortable chairs beckoned to her. She tottered across and sank into one, sighing with relief. It was short-lived. The door slid open, and a tall woman entered.

  “Welcome to El Cazador,” she said.

  Skylar jumped to her feet. She quickly cross-referenced the woman against the crew list she’d memorized—this must be Captain Tannis.

  She was striking, her body long and slender—sinuous—beneath the tight black pants and scarlet T-shirt. Her skin glowed, a pale, luminous ivory run through with shimmering iridescent lights. Skylar raised her gaze to find the woman watching her coolly out of yellow eyes, almost a solid color and only broken by a black slit down the center.

  From her intel, Skylar knew the Captain of El Cazador was genetically modified, or a GM as they referred to themselves, and it didn’t take a close look to see the effects on this woman. She’d obviously made no attempt to hide what she was, which was unusual. Most GMs tried to conceal their heritage, and with good reason. When the Church’s influence had risen in the aftermath of the Meridian discovery, the high priests had called for a purge of any with mixed DNA, claiming they were abominations against God.

  “Seen enough?” the woman snapped.

  “Sorry, I’ve never—” Skylar trailed off as a second figure entered behind the captain. She’d studied the files on the owner and pilot of El Cazador while planning this mission, but still her mouth fell open in shock.

  Holy Meridian.

  Nothing in the files had prepared her for this.

  He was tall, with a lean body dressed in black pants and a black shirt. Real leather boots up to his knees, silver pistols at his hips, and an honest to goodness sword at his back.

  His midnight-black hair was pulled into a ponytail, revealing oli
ve skin and perfect bone structure. Dark glasses covered his eyes, but even so, Skylar was quite aware they hadn’t yet risen above the level of her breasts. A slow, lazy smile lifted the corners of his sensual mouth, and her hand twitched with the need to tug up her dress.

  “Hello,” he murmured, his voice like warm honey. He held out his hand. “I’m Ricardo Sanchez—Rico to my friends. And I’m sure the two of us are going to be very good friends.”

  Beside him, the captain snorted, but Rico’s gaze never left Skylar.

  “Skylar. Skylar Rossaria,” she said, sliding her hand into his much larger one. His felt cool against her skin, and he stroked little circles on her palm with the pad of his thumb.

  “Delighted to meet you, Skylar.”

  His eyes behind the dark shades finally left her breasts to wander up and down her figure. A ripple of awareness prickled across her skin. She shifted, then reminded herself that there was a reason she’d dressed like this. The information on the crew had been incomplete; somehow, they had managed to stay beneath the Collective’s radar—that wouldn’t last for long if they took on this job. The rumors surrounding the owner of El Cazador had ranged from rogue immortal to spawn of Satan, depending on whom she’d asked, but all agreed on one thing—Ricardo Sanchez was a womanizer, and he liked his women obvious.

  Skylar sighed but straightened up, tossing her long blond mane, drawing back her shoulders, and thrusting her breasts out a little farther.

  “Really delighted,” he added.

  The woman at his side groaned. “Cut the crap, Rico.”

  He grinned but released Skylar’s hand, crossed the floor, and sank into one of the chairs, his booted legs resting on the table in front of him. He patted the seat next to him. “Come and sit down, Skylar, and tell me exactly what I can do for you.” His voice sank to a low drawl that caressed her ears. She stared at him, mesmerized.

  The captain shook her head before sitting down next to Rico, gesturing to the chair opposite. “I’m Tannis, captain of The Cazador,” she said as Skylar took her seat. “So what is this job you have for us?”

  Skylar’s gaze flickered from one to the other. She nibbled on her lower lip and tugged at a strand of hair, twisting it round her finger. She’d listed all the possible methods of approach, but until she’d met the people she was dealing with it had been impossible to know which one to go with. Now looking at Tannis, her foot tapping impatiently on the floor, she decided on the most direct approach.

  “I want you to break a friend of mine out of the Collective’s maximum security facility on Trakis One.”

  She watched intently for their reactions. Rico’s she couldn’t tell. His face remained blank, his eyes still obscured by the dark glasses, but Tannis showed a faint flicker of shock, quickly hidden.

  “A friend?”

  She nodded. “A very good friend.”

  Tannis studied her through narrowed eyes. “You are aware that nobody has ever escaped from Trakis One?”

  “I know, but I have to try.” She bit her lip, forced a pleading look into her expression. “He’s scheduled for transfer to the Meridian mines on Trakis Seven in ten days’ time. After that…” She trailed off. There was no point in saying more. Everyone knew entry into the atmosphere of Trakis Seven meant instant contamination for which there was no cure. Once there, any rescue would be pointless—unrefined Meridian was a radioactive poison that permeated the cells instantly on exposure. Wherever he ran to, he’d be dead within two years.

  “So why is he being held?” Tannis asked.

  Skylar had given this one a lot of thought. She didn’t want to put them off totally, but on the other hand, it had to be believable.

  “He was obsessed with getting enough credits for us both to have the Meridian treatment. He could have paid for himself years ago, but he loved me and wanted us to be together.”

  The two people opposite remained silent, and she forced herself to continue. “Jonny didn’t mean to kill anyone. It was an accident. He’d been contracted to steal a shipment of raditron from a storage facility on Trakis Five, but the explosives went off prematurely and a lot of people died.”

  “Hmm.” Tannis sounded skeptical. “And your friend wasn’t harmed?”

  “He had protective gear, but the blast knocked him out and they caught him. They sentenced him to life in the mines, which everyone knows is a death sentence.”

  Tannis eyed her as though not quite believing her story. Which wasn’t completely unexpected. Maybe it was time to get away from the story and onto what really mattered.

  “I have money to pay you,” Skylar said. “Lots of money.”

  “The money saved for the treatment?”

  “Not all, but some of it.”

  “Can you prove you have access?” Tannis leaned forward.

  Skylar nodded. “I have the account codes. Verification is code-level one.”

  “Give it to me.”

  Skylar reeled out the list of numbers while Tannis pressed the button on her wrist console, opening a hologram palm screen on her left hand. She punched in the numbers and waited, humming under her breath. After a minute, a slow smile spread across her face. She nodded to Rico, and then turned back to Skylar. “That’s a lot of credits—not tempted to use them yourself?”

  Skylar shook her head. “It’s pointless now. I’d rather have one lifetime with Jonny than eternity without him.” She was worried she’d gone over the top, but what the hell—she couldn’t back down now. Might as well go the whole way. She’d been practicing for this moment. She concentrated hard, remembering the laser blast she’d taken in the face during a training exercise last month. The pistol had been set to stun, but, shit, it had still smarted. She blinked once, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Please, you’re my last hope. You have to help me.”

  Rico rose, crossed the narrow space between them, and crouched down in front of her. He reached out and wiped away the tear with the tip of his finger, surprisingly cool against her cheek. A tingle ran through her skin from the point of contact.

  “Hey, don’t cry,” he murmured, his voice husky. “We’ll get your boyfriend back for you.”

  Wow, the guy was a pushover. His file hadn’t said he was a big softie. How had he survived this long?

  Skylar stared into his face and saw her own reflection in the dark shades. She widened her eyes a little, batted her lashes once or twice.

  He smiled and bent his head toward her so his breath feathered against her skin. “Just give me a few minutes to convince the captain, and we’ll be off after your boyfriend. We’ll have him back in no time.”

  “You can do it? It’s never been done before.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Piece of cake.”

  She frowned, and his smile broadened. “Old Earth saying. It’s a hobby of mine.” Reaching out, he patted her hand. “Try not to worry. Tannis?” He gestured to the doorway.

  Tannis was still seated, a look of complete disgust on her face, but she got up when he spoke her name. They crossed the room, but Tannis paused in the open doorway. “Just one thing. You could get anyone for that sort of money. Why us?”

  Skylar fixed her gaze on Rico as she answered. “I heard you were the best.”

  “Hmm.” Tannis didn’t sound entirely convinced, but she gave Skylar one last searching look and strode out of the room. The door closed behind them, and Skylar’s shoulders sagged. After a minute, she straightened her spine, though she doubted they’d be watching her. They’d obviously bought her story. She’d known they wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of such a huge sum of money. Skylar prided herself on her pre-mission computations and she was rarely wrong.

  But just in case they did have surveillance, she got out a mirror from her small bag and studied her reflection. Her lipstick had vanished, nibbled away during her award-winning performance. She pulled out her make-up and swiped the bold red tube across her lips, in what she hoped appeared a practiced movement, before returning it to the bag. Smooth
ing down her hair, she assessed her situation.

  She couldn’t believe how well the meeting had gone. It was comforting to know that if this did go wrong, she could always get a job as an actress. Though she doubted she would ever find an audience quite as gullible as Ricardo Sanchez.

  . . .

  Rico poured them both a whiskey from his flask and threw himself on the red brocade couch in Tannis’ cabin.

  Tannis took her glass and sat opposite, stretched her legs out, and crossed her ankles. She gulped the drink in one go and slammed the glass on the short table next to her. “That was revolting. The horny little bitch couldn’t stop fluttering her false eye lashes at you. I heard you’re the best,” she mimicked.

  Rico grinned. “Jealous?” He knew she wasn’t—they’d never had that sort of relationship, but he enjoyed winding her up. Once or twice, in the early days, he’d been tempted to try, but he’d always backed off; lovers were easy to come by, friends almost impossible. Besides, he wasn’t entirely convinced he’d succeed.

  “No,” she replied. “I just didn’t fancy losing my breakfast. “She cast him a look of disgust. “And you were no better. Tell me, have you always been…” She paused as if searching for a word, then gestured in the general direction of his groin.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Extraordinarily well-endowed?”

  “Ha- ha. I meant a sex-crazed womanizer.”

  He considered ignoring the question. There had always been an unspoken rule between them that they never discussed the past, but she appeared genuinely curious. “No, I wasn’t always a womanizer. In fact, I married when I was seventeen and was faithful for the next twenty years.”

  “You were married?”

  His lips curved at the incredulity in her voice. “A long time ago, and in a faraway place.”

  “Wow, so what changed you?”

  He gave her a look of complete amazement.

  “Yeah, right,” she muttered, “the whole vampire thing. So do all vampires like sex as much as you?”

  “I don’t know about all vampires—we’re not exactly a chatty bunch. But I’ve found it’s the best way to keep the hunger at bay.”