by Alison Aimes
But, truth be told, DaKar wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t need bootlickers or yes-men. He needed people who had his back. Just as he had theirs.
“Have circumstances changed?” finished the male.
Beside him, Aurora had gone perfectly still, but DaKar could feel her nerves—she wasn’t quite sure how he would react to the obvious insubordination—mingling with amusement, both fluttering along the golden threads like wispy butterfly wings. Fragile and delicate. Like her, and the trust she was so wary to give.
Her amusement helped soothe his mood. He could weather the older male’s scolding if it lessened the tight ball of worry, fear, and sadness inside her, even if only for a moment. Plus, he wanted her to understand exactly the kind of man he was and would always be with her and anyone else he cared for.
“Nothing has changed.” He narrowed his eyes, shooting the other male his best you-have-reached-the-end-of-my-patience look.
“Very good, Warlord, sir.” With a simple nod, Tom shut the hells up. After so many planetary rotations lived, the man was no fool.
This time, Aurora laughed out loud, her relief and approval broadcasting crystal clear through the golden threads. “I guess we should be going, then?”
His chest puffed out even farther. Pleasing her definitely pleased him.
And the sooner he figured out who the real thief and murderer was and cleared his name, the sooner he could settle the title and please Aurora over and over. Make her laugh and then make her moan. Beg. Cry out his name. Spread her legs and bury his tongue in her wet, musky chanti any time he craved. Flip her to her knees and fuck her from behind.
“Hey.” She gave a startled cry, her arms clamped around his neck as he swept her into his arms and hustled past Tom and up the floater steps, practically throwing her into the transpo.
“We need to go now. Time’s a-wasting.”
He slammed the door shut.
29
Aurora smoothed her hand over a wrinkle in her skirt and froze. Too late.
“I warned you this would be boring.” Amusement laced DaKar’s words. He knew she was fidgeting. Martian eyesight was better than Earther’s, especially in the dark.
She threw him a mock glare. “I am not bored. I am just keeping busy.” It was the truth. She was far from bored. Sitting so close to DaKar, heat from his large body wrapping around her in an almost caress, was far from dull.
It was maddening, enticing, erotic, and torturous.
Goddess, she wanted to touch him. To run her hands along his corded chest, to feel all those astounding muscles bunch beneath her palms.
Instead, she took a deep breath, inhaled his tantalizing, exotic scent of licorice and spice, and ran her hands down the front of her skirt. Again.
Because finding clues and helping him to clear his name came first.
Not to mention that she was already in far too deep with him as it was.
This morning she had chosen a small village outside the dome as her first destination. She’d booked a flexible ticket on a transpo that left each morning and evening. She’d packed a set of clothes.
She knew she could not allow the connection between her and DaKar to continue to grow. She knew she had to be strong for them both. She knew further intimacy would only hurt them both in the end.
But she couldn’t seem to stop. He was just so…wonderful.
She’d considered refusing his contract offer outright, but she could hardly expect him to allow her to come along to help—and keep tabs on his discoveries—if that happened. And she needed to help him. She really did.
He might think he was the only one whose instincts to protect were stirred up by the mating heat and golden soul ties, but it went the other way as well.
She could not leave until she made sure he was safe. It was as much a fever in her blood as the all-consuming lust and longing for him she doubted would ever go away, even when she did.
“Do you suppose he is even in there?” Desperate to escape her thoughts, she peered out the privacy shields at the townhouse Peller had rented in the modest neighborhood of Belgravish Square and pretended impatience was the only reason for her inability to sit still.
Between the dark, the blurry floater pane, and their awkward parked position within the back alley, her visibility was almost nonexistent. “I don’t see why we can’t get out and take a closer look.”
“We wait until the night’s spirits delivery is done. Peller never misses a night.”
He shifted, bringing the hard length of his thigh against hers. She stifled a whimper. “If we settle into the hiding place before the deliveryman comes, there’s a good chance he’ll see us.”
“This is obviously not your first time watching Peller.”
“He has a great deal to gain from my death.”
A shiver ran through her. How awful to believe that about your own family. At least her true flesh and blood had never plotted to have her incarcerated or killed. She’d always viewed her mother’s indifference as a grave betrayal, but she was discovering there was a great deal worse that could happen.
DaKar’s whole life had been filled with cruelty. But instead of descending to that level, he’d fought it, separated himself from it, and become a protector in his own right.
Her fingertips itched with the need to draw him close. To show him how amazing he truly was.
Instead, she forced herself to remain rigid at his side. Silent. With nothing to distract her from the tormenting allure of his heat and scent except her own condemning conscience and the powerful, possessive claim of DaKar’s emotions brushing against her own as if he could will them into submission, too.
Finally, the purr of an engine sounded down the alley and the deliveryman’s light appeared atop his junker, a floater cobbled together out of different parts. With the speed of a man who had been at his job for years, he deposited the bottles, metal and glass clanking as he settled them on the back steps. He was on his way within minutes.
“Let’s be off.”
DaKar’ s hand closed over her arm. “Stay behind me and remember, we are only here to observe. Nothing else.”
She could barely keep from shuffling her feet as they exited the floater and she waited for him to give Tom instructions. Excited by the thrill of freedom, she drew in a deep breath—and wrinkled her nose. Overripe food and sour dome air. The smell in the alley was not nearly as pleasant as the one in the floater. But at least it wouldn’t drive her mad with longing.
“Stay near.” He started down the alley, his voice a whisper. “We need to step as silently as possible.”
“I can be sneaky when necessary.”
He suppressed a snort.
She tipped her chin in the air. “You’d be surprised.”
“Really? I did mention there are rats in the alley, right?”
Rats? She scurried forward until her front pressed against his back. They were a big problem in the dome. One of the few wild animals that had survived and thrived since the Wars, tripling in size from the small animals they’d once been. “No. You didn’t.”
“I thought kittens loved to sink their claws into rodents.”
Despite the turmoil inside her, she smiled. “Be careful or I’ll sink my claws into you.” There was just something about being with him that made her feel safe and happy, giddy and reckless all at the same time.
His golden eyes heated. “That can definitely be arranged.”
Her blood was still sizzling from his rumbled words when they reached the recyclers.
Crouching down, he tucked her next to him. The solid feel of his big body against hers only made the ache inside deepen.
Forcing her mind to other concerns, she gave a satisfied nod. “This affords a much better view of his house, but it’s still pretty far away.” She risked a quick glance down at her feet to ensure nothing lurked nearby—she really didn’t like rats—before giving the house another once-over. “It looks rather empty. Do you suppose Peller’s out?”<
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“He’s in there. I have it on good authority that, though he stays at his mother’s most of the wheek, he comes here on wheekends.”
“Why?”
She heard rather than saw his smile. “That is precisely what I’m hoping we discover.”
“Do you think it has something to do with the murders?”
He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. But don’t worry. You are safe with me.”
A flood of moisture she couldn’t hold back blurred her vision. All she’d wanted was to matter to someone and he made it seem so easy; his care blanketing her like a second skin. She swiped at her cheek, pretending it was grime.
He looked at her sideways, anyway. Stupid golden soul ties. She forced a smile and thought happy thoughts.
The minutes ticked by. She counted the trash in the alley. Estimated the number of cobblestones between their hiding spot and Peller’s back door. And when she couldn’t stand it anymore, studied the taut, clean lines of DaKar’s jaw. He really was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen.
The roar of an arriving engine reverberated off the alley walls.
“Someone’s coming.” The words came out in more of a squeak than she’d intended.
“Get down.” They crouched lower behind the recycler as the sleek floater swooped downward and hovered by Peller’s back door. The door swung open, stairs unfolded, and a figure descended.
Even squinting, she couldn’t see much through the darkness. She crowded closer to DaKar. “Can you see who it is?”
“Not yet. We may have more luck when she reaches the door.”
“How do you know it’s a female?”
“No man moves like that.”
Didn’t it figure he’d be aware of something like that?
A heartbeat later, the female glided up the back steps. The door opened and the flickering light from inside revealed both the host and visitor profiles.
She gasped. “It’s Peller.”
“And Miss Stanthorpe.”
“Miss Stanthorpe? Your Miss Stanthorpe?”
“She’s hardly mine.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I wonder what she’s up to.”
A secret petty part of her relaxed. There was no jealousy in DaKar’s voice.
Miss Stanthorpe hovered in the doorway. Her back was rigid, her gestures abrupt.
“It almost looks as if they are arguing.” Aurora strained to hear their words. No such luck from this distance.
“Or negotiating,” suggested DaKar. “Stanthorpe might not like Peller, but she is an enterprising woman.”
Stanthorpe’s movements grew more punctuated. Peller’s more coaxing.
“Do you suppose she’s come about the family letters?” DaKar had told her about them on the way here.
“There’d be no point for him in trying to obtain them now. They’re already in the hands of my lawyers and their authenticity all but proven. Still, she told me she hadn’t disclosed their contents to Peller before, so maybe he’s interested in what they say. I would be if I were him.”
“…after everything I did for you?” Peller’s shout echoed through the alley.
Miss Stanthorpe’s murmured response was impossible to hear, but it was obviously not to Peller’s liking. He grabbed her arm and twisted, his expression darkening further.
“Well, if you won’t give me what I want for old time’s sake, then how about for this?” He yanked something from his pocket. It dangled in front of his chest.
Aurora strained forward behind the barrel. “What is that? A necklace of some sort?” It glittered as it swung back and forth.
Stanthorpe caught it in her fist.
DaKar scowled. “I’m not sure. I couldn’t get a good enough look.”
Once again, their voices dropped. Stanthorpe’s stance grew more compliant. Peller’s expression smug. He dropped her arm and walked backward through the door, pulling Stanthorpe along by the object as if she was tethered to a leash. Still, her grip never faltered. The door shut behind them.
Aurora whirled to face DaKar. “What do you think is going on? Why would she go inside with him like that?”
“I’m not certain. Stanthorpe is a courtesan by trade and strikes me as someone who is always looking for ways to earn more money.”
“You don’t mean…?” She looked back at the house.
“I do. He may have summoned her for sexual services as well as information. Whatever he handed her could have been payment. She obviously knows Peller well enough to demand compensation up front.”
“Oh.” Aurora’s breath hitched.
Silence fell between them, the darkness in the alley suddenly charged with heat. Her skin prickled.
She did not need the topic of fucking swirling through her mind right now. She was struggling to keep a hold of her desire as it was.
“We might be out here for some time.” He leaned against the side of the recycler. “Better get comfortable.”
Comfortable? She could never be comfortable now. Was DaKar thinking about sex just as she was? Was he imagining pulling her to him even here?
Unlike last time, they had the whole night together if they wanted.
But, of course, working to find the real murderer took highest priority. And hadn’t she told herself there would be no going further down that path.
Though, for the life of her, she couldn’t quite remember why touching him one last time would be so bad.
She cleared her throat, her mind casting about for an effective distraction. “Tell me something about you. Something no one else knows.”
“There is not much to tell. What you see is what you get.”
She was undeterred. “Do you speak many languages?”
“Yes.”
She frowned into the dark. “Did you learn any of those languages from your mother?”
“She died giving birth to me.” His voice was muted, but the swell of emotion that pulsed through the golden threads was far from subdued. “They buried her on Phobos and I was shipped back to Earth. I did not meet any of her family until I got older.”
Blast. She hadn’t meant to cause pain. “I apologize for reminding you of it.”
“No, no. It’s all right. It was long ago.” He twisted the ring on his finger. “Of course, her death left me alone with dear old Dad. Not a great start for any infant.” A half-apologetic note entered his voice. “It’s from him I got my temper.”
Her heart squeezed. “He was not a great father, then?”
His laugh was forced. “Nope. Decidedly not.” He turned back to peer at Peller’s door. “I wonder if there is any point in remaining.”
She couldn’t help but think his sudden urge to depart most likely due to the direction of her questions rather than the pace of the investigation. “What are some of those other languages?”
“Why?” Defiance tinged his words. “Do you doubt me?”
Surprise shot through her. “No, why should I?” Understanding dawned even before she’d finished her question. Someone had doubted him. Someone had assumed him incapable of such a feat and dismissed him as nothing more than an ignorant barbarian. “I just want to know if any of those languages are something useful like rodent communication in case I end up needing you to tell one of those disgusting creatures to stop nibbling on my ankle.”
At his low chuckle, a fluttery feeling danced across her chest.
“No rat. Sorry. But I promise to only let them nibble a little before I send them away.” His gaze darkened and his lust rippled over her skin. “Then, I’ll take over. And nibble a lot.”
“Hmmm.” She liked the sound of that. She forced her breathing to steady. “And the languages?”
“Persistent as usual.” At her raised eyebrow, he smiled again. “I speak nine, more or less. Including Phobocian, my mother’s language. Seemed ridiculous to be half-Martian and not know a word it.”
“That’s wonderful.” Why this feeling of triumph? All he had done was answer a silly question that someone else
would volunteer without prodding.
He shrugged. “When I was younger, I traveled a good deal in the Outer World and was thrown into the thick of things more than I care to admit. I quickly discovered I could either learn the language and the customs or spend a lot of time hungry, cold, and without shelter. I learned the languages.”
“A wise choice.” Her respect for him grew tenfold.
Would she be so brave and resilient when she set out on her own? Not for the first time, she wished she had more of DaKar’s courage, his boldness of spirit.
The thundering echo of an engine startled her.
They swiveled in unison as another floater lurched to a stop by Peller’s back door.
DaKar craned his neck forward. “Peller’s house is busy tonight.”
Two females hopped out of the older model floater. Unlike with Miss Stanthorpe, it was easy to tell their sex, even in the relative dark of the alley. They wore no outer cape and their evening clothes were extremely tight fitting.
“Now, who do you suppose those two are?” Aurora tried to step around him for a better view. “And what could they possibly be doing here at this hour?”
He pulled her back behind the recycler. “Stay.”
She shot him a warning glare. “Do you suppose they even know Peller is home?”
A strange smile bloomed on DaKar’s face. “Oh yes, I think they know he’s in for the night.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “What do you know that I do not?”
Before he could answer, the door opened. Light streamed into the alley once more.
“You sluts are late. We’ve started.” Peller staggered out, his shirt undone, his hair mussed. This time his words were easy to hear.
He grabbed one of the females by the wrist and yanked her against him while he pawed the other’s backside. Then, all three lurched inside, the sound of a yelp unmistakable even after the door slammed shut.
She turned to DaKar. “I think…I think those women were prostitutes.”
DaKar expression was carefully blank. “Yes, they were.”