A brief knock sounded before the door opened, revealing Imogen and Luka. Both still wore their workout gear. It was eerie to watch them both check us, then check the room for threats in a very similar fashion. I reluctantly stepped away from Valentin.
Finally, Imogen’s gaze returned to me. “What happened?”
I kept a tight rein on my emotions, but my voice still came out in a furious growl. “Someone blew up my ship.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
I felt a stab of shame as I realized I’d been so wrapped up in my own pain and fury that I hadn’t asked about anyone else.
“No,” Valentin said. “It was a targeted strike against Samara’s ship and nothing else. The nearby ships took only minor damage to their hull shielding.”
“Same attackers?” Luka asked.
Valentin shrugged. “I think so, but I wasn’t able to catch either of them. We have video, but their faces are obscured.”
“They’re trying to divide you,” Imogen said. “To sow doubt and discredit Samara.”
Valentin nodded in agreement. “Rumors are powerful. Stopping them will prove difficult.”
A quick mental check of the local news net proved exactly how true that was. The rumors were already spreading. And the attack details were spot on, with the exception of the perpetrators. Someone with access to the security footage had leaked the information.
I sighed and decided. “We don’t need to stop the rumors. I’m going to embrace them. Behold your new refugee Rogue Queen, desperate to hold onto the power that is slipping away into the hands of rebels.”
“It’s dangerous. You’ll be seen as weak and vulnerable. My court will do their best to eat you alive.”
“Let them try,” I said with absolute confidence, both in myself and in him. I knew that as long as Valentin breathed, he would do everything in his power to protect me from his court. I just had to keep him breathing.
“Are you sure it isn’t Rogue rebels?” Luka asked.
I was, but it was a valid question for him to ask, especially with the new rumors flying around. Just because they’d had trouble before I arrived didn’t mean that I hadn’t brought my own trouble with me.
Before I could answer, Imogen rolled her eyes. “She’s sure. She’s too modest to say so, but she inspires loyalty in all of us.”
Luka slanted a glance at her. “You’re hardly an impartial judge.”
She bristled at him, but I cut in, “He’s right to ask the question, Imogen.”
“I contacted Ari earlier,” she said. “Everything is fine in Arx and she laughed at the thought of rebels. As she pointed out, why would people rebel now that we have food and jobs again, all thanks to our queen? There is no rebellion. Rogue citizens are fiercely protective of Samara and happy with her leadership.”
“People rebel for many reasons,” Luka said. “And your people have the necessary skill.”
“Many of my people do have the skills,” I agreed. “But killing me won’t automatically give someone else control. The people made me queen. They will only follow someone they choose, and no one on my advisory council wants the job. Without an obvious replacement, the Rogue Coalition will fracture upon my death, something Quint would be all-too-happy to exploit.”
“Perhaps you should look to your own people,” Imogen said to Luka.
“We are,” he agreed easily.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that intel indicated Commander Adams was in Koan right before the attacks ramped up. These attacks have seemed more military than mercenary to me, and Commander Adams has a grudge against both of us.”
Valentin inclined his head in agreement. “Do you have a plan?”
“We’re fighting on two fronts,” I said. “We have an unknown team of attackers, likely Quint soldiers, and they want one or both of us dead. We also have an unknown number of your advisors who may or may not be working with that team.”
“That would’ve been good information to have earlier,” Imogen growled.
“It wasn’t my secret to share, but now the attackers have upped the stakes. There are too many unknowns. Tonight I’m going to work on the attack team. Tomorrow I’ll keep working on the advisors.”
“What can I do?” Valentin asked.
“You can stay here and act normal. I’m going to do some research on Koan, then go check a few local watering holes, see if any new teams have popped up in the last week or so.”
My statement was met with two immediate denials from Imogen and Valentin and one skeptically arched brow from Luka. Good to know that I inspired confidence.
“Did you forget who I am?” I asked, my voice soft with menace. “I was not born a princess. I did not grow up in an ivory tower. Blood and death were my profession for years before I became queen. I can handle myself with a few mercenaries and when I find the team who attacked Invictia—and I will find them—I am going to make an example of them that no one will soon forget. Cross the Rogue Queen at your peril.”
Those fuckers had destroyed my home. There was no escape for them, nowhere they could hide. I would find them and shatter everything they held dear.
And I would enjoy every second of it.
In fact, after the day that I’d had, I looked forward to teaching a very memorable lesson to the first person who tried to screw with me. I knew going out alone was dangerous, but I couldn’t take Imogen. She was a good soldier and a phenomenal bodyguard, but she’d never been a mercenary or a thief or anyone else on the shady side of the law. She would be marked as a cop—at best—in two seconds flat.
“Just because we’re worried for you doesn’t mean we don’t respect your skills,” Valentin argued quietly.
I sighed and rubbed my face. Rage and pain pulsed under my skin, making me twitchy and overly sensitive. “I know; I’m sorry. But I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I can’t.”
“I will go with you,” Valentin said.
“You have the most recognizable face in the city. You can’t go with me, though I appreciate the offer.”
“I will go in his place,” Luka said.
“Like hell you will,” Imogen countered. “For all I know, you’re in on it and will stab Samara in the back as soon as you’re out of my sight.”
I knew Valentin trusted Luka with his life, but I was kind of with Imogen on this one. The big, taciturn guard didn’t seem to care much for me, and it would certainly eliminate some danger for Valentin if I were to disappear.
Luka shrugged. “Then I will go alone.”
“No, I’m going, one way or another. How well do you know the typical merc hangouts? And, more importantly, how well do they know you?” I asked.
“You can’t be seriously—” Imogen started, but she bit off the rest of the sentence when I sent her a warning look.
“I know them well. And as far as they know, I’m a personal security specialist.”
I waved at his ice blond hair and solidly muscled frame. “You’re not exactly inconspicuous. Why hasn’t anyone pegged you as Valentin’s guard?”
“I don’t go often, and I know how to stay under the radar.”
I stared at Luka while I weighed my options. He waited patiently and didn’t so much as shift in annoyance. Having a guide would make things faster, but if he wanted to lead me into a trap, I was presenting him with a golden opportunity. And while I could send him on his own, my name might open more doors than his.
Imogen linked me. I vehemently object to this plan, she said without preamble.
Your objection is noted.
Samara, I know you are hurting right now, but don’t rush into danger without reason. I raised a cool eyebrow at her and she flushed but didn’t back down. It’s my job to save you from yourself.
“You may not trust him, but trust me,” Valentin said at last. “Luka will keep his word. If he promises to keep you safe, he will.”
“He owes me nothing.”
“No, but I owe Valentin everything,” Luka said. “I will kee
p you safe, for him.”
“Who will look after you while Luka is gone?” I asked Valentin.
“I have other guards,” he said, “but it might be better to keep this quiet. I could stay here with Ms. Weber, if she doesn’t mind.”
I mind, Imogen said across the link, but she didn’t protest aloud.
“We need to make a public announcement, to assure everyone that I am still very much alive. Then I need an hour before we leave,” I said.
“I will go change,” Valentin said. “Link me when you’re ready to make the announcement. We’ll use my office.”
As he left, I couldn’t help but wish this night had ended differently.
“I will go with Luka while you stay here,” Imogen tried for the sixth time. We’d gone around in circles for the last hour and a half, both before and after Valentin and I had made our announcement. Now I was putting the finishing touches on my fourth outfit of the evening and she was still trying.
When an unexpected link came through from Ari, I sighed in exasperation. “Really? You snitched on me to Ari?”
“Maybe she saw the news on the feed.” When I just stared, Imogen relented. “She told me to keep her informed.”
I rolled my eyes at her and accepted the link. Hello, Ari. Is everything okay?
You tell me, she growled. Did your best friend’s ship just blow up without a word from said friend that she was okay?
Ouch. I deserved that one. Sorry. If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t anywhere near the ship when it blew up.
I already got a full report from Imogen. You’re going to give her an aneurysm.
You know I can’t send her into the underbelly of Koan.
Ari sighed across the link. I know. Are you sure about this?
Yes.
Then be careful. Keep me posted. And remember that Stella will kick your ass if you get hurt again.
I will be careful. I’m taking Valentin’s guard Luka for backup.
She was silent for a long moment. Watch him. He’s sharper than he looks.
I will. How are things in Arx? No mutinies happening while I’m gone?
She chuckled. No. But Zita and Eddie are in a heated battle to see who can produce the most delicious pastry. I’ve got twenty credits on Eddie. I think he’s a dark horse.
Eddie ran the mess hall in Arx and Zita ran the bakery. Eddie was gifted, but Zita had years of experience on him. I hope you’re ready to lose your money.
Ten credits say I don’t, she promptly replied.
Done, but don’t tell Eddie or Zita. I don’t want to eat burnt food when I come home.
Your secret is safe with me. We’re all staying mum, and they’re pretending they don’t know about the betting, Ari said. She paused and her tone turned serious. Do you want me to send another ship?
Do we have one we can spare? We had a few fighters and a massive city ship, but the Rogue Coalition wasn’t exactly flush with extra ships capable of tunneling to Koan.
I’ll find something and have it delivered to the main spaceport under a false name, so they don’t blow it up before you get a chance to see it. I’ll let you know when it arrives. Be careful. I mean it, Samara.
Thank you. I will be. You be careful, too. Someone went to a lot of trouble to ensure I can’t quickly return to Arx. They could be planning to hit you next.
I will increase patrols, she said. And Valentin still has ships in the sector. We’ll be okay.
Good. Take care.
We said our good-byes and cut the link.
“Ari thinks I’m going to give you an aneurysm,” I told Imogen.
“She’s right,” she muttered not quite under her breath.
“Would you prefer to return to Arx? No one will hold it against you. Exploding ships are far beyond what you signed up for.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bodyguard if I bailed at the first sign of adversity,” Imogen said. “I’m staying. But I still think I should go out in your place.”
I smiled at her tenacity. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
“Be careful. Promise me you won’t ditch Luka. He might not have the best manners, but he’s strong and fast.”
Her tone of voice made the sentiment as much warning as endorsement.
“I don’t plan on leaving him behind. And I will be careful.”
Chapter Eleven
I left Imogen in the suite and met Luka near Valentin’s room. Valentin had decided to stay in his own suite. Twenty credits said Luka had persuaded him that Imogen couldn’t be trusted to watch his back.
Luka looked over my outfit with a critical eye. I had on nondescript black utility pants, heavy boots, and a long-sleeved, stretchy black shirt. A sturdy gray jacket covered me past my hips, and a cap pulled low obscured my face. A thin scarf wrapped around my neck up to my chin, leaving just my jaw and mouth fully visible. All of the items were of good quality but well worn.
I had short knives in both boots and a plasma pistol in a shoulder holster. The belt around my waist held spare magazines as well as my long combat knife. I was armed enough to give someone pause before attacking me.
Luka was dressed similarly to me, minus the coat. He wore his plasma pistol openly in a belt holster. He looked huge and intimidating, which wasn’t a bad look when hitting up mercenary hangouts.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Are you sure you want to go?”
“Where is our first stop?”
“I planned to hit Blind, BlackHeart, and Jack’s.”
He’d named the top three places I’d found during my research. At least he wasn’t leading me astray from the very beginning. “Sounds good. I propose we split up and enter separately when we get there. We can gather twice as much information.”
“Can you handle yourself?”
My smile was not friendly. “I can only hope someone decides to find out.”
Luka decided not to be that someone. Smart man.
We exited the palace through an underground tunnel. Once out, we caught a public transport that carried us from the clean, shiny Imperial Garden, through the towering business districts, and out into the run-down industrial fringes of the city. The buildings got lower, dirtier, and darker.
It was getting close to midnight local time, but the streets still teemed with people. A city this large never fully slept, and for many of the people of this neighborhood, their day was just beginning.
The transport stopped in a shadowed alley two blocks from the bar. Luka stepped out first, scanned the area, and then moved aside to let me exit. The night air was a pleasant enough temperature, but the alley stank of old urine and rotting garbage.
“Last chance to back out,” he said.
“Circle the block so you come from another direction and wait at least five minutes. In the unlikely event that the bar is full of Quint soldiers wanting my head, I’ll link you so you can join in the fun.”
“I will watch until you make the door. Then you are on your own.”
“See you inside.”
I walked out of the alley with the purposeful stride and easy confidence of someone who knew exactly where she was going, and thanks to my link to the net and prior research, I did. Blind wasn’t much to look at, just a generic black door in a low-slung plascrete building. No bouncer, no sign, no windows.
Hesitation would get me pegged as an easy mark, so I pulled open the door and strolled inside as if I’d been coming here for years. The interior of the bar was pitch black, but my night-vision contact lenses adjusted quickly enough to show me the man reaching for me from my left.
I dodged his grab and pulled my knife. He backed off, hands up. “Easy, darling, I don’t want any trouble. Just making sure you’re in the right place.”
Right. The greenish gray output of my lenses was good enough to see that he was dressed in dark clothes and built like a tank. One of these days I was going to have to buy higher quality lenses so I could see in color, but I wasn’t used to having money again.
The man backed off farther when I didn’t sheathe my knife. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he asked from the false safety of a two-meter distance.
I bared my teeth at him. “Come closer and find out.”
He chuckled and the tension in the room broke. “How about I buy you a drink instead?”
Based on the way the others in the bar were stealthily attempting to eavesdrop on our conversation, this man was important. I sheathed my knife in a show of goodwill. “I never turn down free beer.”
“A beer for the lady!” the man shouted to the bartender. He held out a hand. “I’m Finlay and this is my bar. Welcome to Blind.”
I warily shook his hand. His massive paw dwarfed mine, but his grip was firm, not overpowering. Finlay was perhaps two decades older than my own thirty, but time had treated him kindly. His hair was a lighter color, perhaps a light brown or auburn, but I couldn’t quite tell thanks to the night-vision lenses. Laugh lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes, and he had a ready smile. He waved for me to follow him and forged a path through the mingling crowd.
We were nearly to the bar when someone grabbed my ass. I caught their wrist and spun around, knife out. A drunk man blinked blearily at me. He was young, early twenties, but the alcohol had stolen any beauty he’d possessed.
“Do you like this hand?” I asked. For emphasis, I tapped it with the flat of my blade.
“No need to be hasty,” Finlay said from over my shoulder. “Wade didn’t mean any harm. Did you, Wade?”
“No?” It came out a question as Wade tried to focus on Finlay. He should’ve been cut off several drinks ago.
“Apologize to the lady.”
“Sorry, lady,” Wade said. He clearly had no idea what he was apologizing for.
“Keep your hands to yourself unless you want to lose them,” I advised. When he just blinked at me, I sighed and let him go.
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