“No, listen! You can’t--” one of the pirates started
to shriek.
“Hang them high.”
Startled,
She was female.
She was a bounty hunter.
Riveted, he stared across the crowd at her. Turned
sideways, gazing up at the pirates dispassionately, her profile was delicate.
Even from here he could see the fine lines of her small, up-titled nose and
full lips.
As if sensing his regard, she turned her head and met
his gaze almost immediately. Cobalt blue eyes seared into him searchingly,
before disregarding him and returning to the pirates on the scaffolding.
“What the hell...?” Shamon began, puzzled.
“Do we know her?” Jase wondered at the same time.
Taking an apple from her pocket, she nodded to the
hunter. He pulled the lever and the pirates dropped through the trapdoor. Their
necks broke instantaneously.
The crowd gasped in horrified delight.
The traders winced.
“Come on,” Red muttered behind him. “I really need
that drink now.”
What They Are Saying About
Soul Of A
Hunter
“...a tender romance with the razor
sharp edge of outlaws, revenge and political intrigue. I recommend this book to
anyone who wants a melt your heart romance.”
Lori Libby
Writer of romantic suspense
“…a beautiful romance packed with
adventure and a hero to die for. Simply un-putdownable!”
Joanna
Challis
Silverthorn,
The Secret of the
“Once you enter the soul of the bounty
hunter you do not want to leave. From the powerful Daamens to the dark magic of
the Overlord, Soul of a Hunter keeps you reading and wanting more.”
Steve Gambuti,
Stone of Cordova
“...yet
another poignant story... for anyone who enjoys adventure, humor, sensual
heroes, strong willed women and an ever expanding world to explore.”'
--Brenda Edde
Romance Junkies reviewer
Other Titles From The Pen of Angela
Verdenius
Heart Of An Outlaw
An outlawed warrior saved by a Daamen
trader. Passion, betrayal, bloody legends, and a shocking secret, in a galaxy
of enemies and friends.
Soul Of A Mercenary
Reya walks the edge of insanity, her
soul darkening beneath a bloody secret. For love, Maverk will follow the Reeka
warrior into her nightmare.
Heart Of The Betrayed
Betrayed once, Dana trusts no man.
Garret will risk everything to prove his love--even if it means entering a
country split by hate.
Love's Sweet Assassin
To discover the identity of his enemy,
the ruthless Argon will pit his wits against the short, outrageous assassin. It
should be straight forward… right?
Wings
Soul Of A Hunter
by
Angela Verdenius
A Wings ePress, Inc.
Futuristic Romance Novel
Wings ePress, Inc.
Edited by: Leslie Hodges
Copy Edited by: Elizabeth
Struble
Senior Editor: Elizabeth
Struble
Managing Editor: Leslie
Hodges
Executive Editor:
Cover Artist: Richard Stroud
All rights reserved
Names,
characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond
the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from
the publisher.
Wings ePress Books
http://www.wings-press.com
Copyright © 2004 by Angela
Verdenius
ISBN 1-59088-222-9
Published In the United
States Of America
February 2004
Wings
ePress Inc.
403 Wallace
Court
Richmond,
KY 40475
Dedication
As always, to my mother
Doreen Verdenius,
for putting up with my absentmindedness.
Leslie Hodges, editor plus,
and who has the patience of a saint
<g>.
Richard Stroud
for the fantastic artwork.
To all those wonderful people who have read my books
and come back for more.
Thank you for spending time in my worlds
and dreams.
To my cats, my ‘fur-babies’,
for standing on the keyboard
and in front of the computer screen when I
write
thanks for your ‘special’ help.
Prologue
Trembling, she crouched in a corner as the trading
ship shuddered beneath the impact of another missile.
Deep voices boomed out orders and information, and
heavy boots pounded across the floor as the traders hurried to access damage
and do what they could.
“Talek has been killed up in the gun pit!”
“Quick, send Zafron to take his place! The pirates
will take advantage of the momentary cease fire while they can!”
“He’s already on his way! He--”
Another blast rocked the ship.
She knew who they were. Space pirates, scum of the
universe, preying on the weak and helpless. But why pick on the Daamen
trading ship? Rarely did they do so unless they wanted what was in the
cargo hold.
“Lass, what are you doing here?” Big arms, bulging
with muscle, lifted her up easily.
Wrapping her arms around the giant trader’s neck, she
pressed close. “I can’t find Mother, Setya. I’ve looked everywhere but--”
“She’s in her cabin. I’ll take you to her.” He hurried
through the rushing men, carrying his captain’s daughter securely.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“There’s no need--”
“Are we going to die?”
“Lass...”
“Tell me true.”
She was too young to be told the truth. He feared very much that they would die. The attack
was ferocious, relentless, but more than anything, he feared that if the space
pirates managed to breach the hold and enter the trading ship, they would get
more than the prize in the cargo hold. They would get the captain’s lifemate
and daughter. Their fate didn’t bear thinking about right now. He
grimaced. The traders would have to ensure it didn’t happen.
Using the stairwell, he went up to the third floor
which housed the dining and sleeping cabins.
“Setya!”
He looked towards the dining cabin and saw his
captain. “The lass was near the control cabin, trying to find Shera.”
“Thank you for bringing her here.” Lok strode forward,
his arms open. “Come here, daughter.”
Setya relinquished the frightened child, ruffling her
hair with an indulgent smile before hurrying away to join his comrades.
“‘Tis too dangerous to be down there.” Lok hugged and
scolded her at the same time.
“I was looking for Mother.”
“Who is safely in our cabin, where you should be.”
Taking her hand, he led her down the corridor to the captain’s cabin. Opening
it, he spied his wife pacing worriedly. “Setya found her.”
“Sabra!” Shera rushed forward to gather her daughter
close.
“Mother!”
They embraced and Lok smiled briefly. The two females
of his life were together. But not safe. Not yet.
“Stay here,” he ordered, reaching for the door handle.
“Whatever happens, don’t leave this cabin. Understand?”
Shera met his gaze steadily. “Be careful, husband.”
He hesitated, love for her welling inside him, and he
held out his arms to her.
Gladly she stepped into the strong embrace, leaning
her cheek on the hard chest, the skin smooth and warm where the sleeveless vest
gaped open.
Lok hugged her close before laying big hands on her
cheeks to tip her head back so that he could kiss her. Fiercely. Desperately.
Sabra watched her parents. Father was so tall and
strong, a giant to those not of her home-world Daamen, where all males grew to
heights of seven foot and more. Mother was so petite and sweet-natured, a
perfect match for her rakishly-handsome husband.
The ship shuddered once more and she shivered.
Glancing across at her, Lok held out his arm and she
quickly went to him, welcoming the familiar security of his embrace.
“I love my lasses,” he whispered, kissing both the top
of her head and Shera’s. “Never forget that.”
Frightened, Sabra looked up at her mother.
Hiding the fear inside her,
Shera smiled reassuringly at her daughter.
The sound of screeching metal, a sharp lurch and
flickering lights made Lok curse and pull away.
“Captain! The hold!” A voice called out over the
intercom. “They’re trying to breach the hold!”
One last fierce hug and Lok left.
Pulling her daughter into her arms, Shera sat on the
large bunk, her heart thumping sickeningly. Why? Why had they been attacked?
The Daamens were known as traders over all the galaxy, beyond even. Respected
and liked by nearly all in the Lawful Sector. Feared at times, but only by
those foolish enough to start fights or attempt to steal from them. They had no
enemies except for space pirates, who were the enemy of every law-abiding
planet. And space pirates rarely attacked a Daamen ship.
She shuddered at the sound of laser fire. It was
inside the ship.
“Mother?”
She tightened her arms. “‘Tis all right, my little
Sabra. Father will get us out of here.”
“Are the pirates aboard?”
“I...”
Cobalt blue eyes, so like Lok’s it made her heart
ache, peered up at her. “Are we going to die?”
Only if we’re lucky. “Of course not. Have faith, little lass. No one beats a Daamen, do
they?”
“Nay.” Sabra smiled tremulously. “Because our men are
giants, are they not?”
“Aye. Giants. And they fight and always win, everyone
knows that.”
“So we’ll be safe.”
“Aye. Now sit quietly and--”
Laser fire crackled close, voices yelling in the
corridor, coming closer. A cry of agony. Cursing.
The door was flung open and Setya appeared, blood
coursing down his face and matting his long red hair. “Shera, come quickly!
This floor is no longer safe!”
“The pirates have breached the hold?” She hurried
across to him, clasping his outstretched hand while holding tight to Sabra.
“Aye!”
“Where’s Lok?”
“I don’t know. There’s no time--”
Gripping fear filled her.
“Quickly, we must hurry! We must--”
A crackle sounded, heat burning past Sabra’s cheek,
followed by the stench of burnt flesh and her mother’s scream. Dumbfounded, she
stared up into Setya’s face, seeing the pain in his eyes. His gaze locked with
hers, he opened his mouth and blood gushed out in a scarlet stream. He
crumpled, lifeless, onto the floor across the doorway and she saw the blackened
hole in his back.
Harsh voices snapped out orders in an alien language.
Frightened, she turned to her mother, but she wasn’t
there. Looking down, she saw her lying on the floor, her face turned away.
She must have fainted. But she mustn’t! There was no
time!
Hurriedly Sabra, kneeling by her side, picked up her
hand. “Mother! Wake up! You must wake up! The pirates are coming!” There was no
answer and the hand in hers was surprisingly heavy. For the first time she
noticed the blood seeping into Shera’s luxuriant blonde tresses. Fear gripped
her. “Mother?” Reaching out with trembling fingers, she carefully rolled her
head to face her.
And screamed.
Brown eyes stared sightlessly at nothing. Burn marks
sheared the side of her temple, blood pouring from the shattered hole further
back where the laser blast had gone straight through after first striking
Setya.
“Mother!” Weeping, cradling the bloodied head on her
lap, Sabra rocked back and forth.
“Take the survivors to the dining cabin,” a voice
snarled. “You four search the rest of the ship, ensure no one hides anywhere.”
Grief blocked out the voices and she was aware of
nothing until a hand fisted in her hair to drag her painfully to her feet.
“Well, look here. Seems we’ve got a little bonus.”
Grief turned to terror as she gazed up into the
bearded face. Hard eyes raked her face with malicious intent and when a cruel
hand cupped her small, budding breast, she screamed and lashed out, catching
the pirate across the face with her nails.
Swearing viciously, he backhanded her, sending her
crashing to the floor.
Dazed, she tried to scramble away but the hand in her
hair was once more dragging her upright. Another slap, but the pirate’s grip
ensured she stayed on her feet.
“Time for that later,” another voice snapped. “Bring
her to the dining cabin with the others.”
Others? Some of her friends had survived? Hope and fear warred for supremacy as she was shoved
out the door and towards the dining cabin, the hand in her hair steering her
painfully.
Her disbelieving gaze took in the carnage around her.
Bodies of traders, once vibrant and alive, lay crumpled on the floor. Blood and
burn marks smeared the walls. Bodies of pirates also littered the floor, but
not as many.
She was shoved through the doorway into the cabin and
her gaze was drawn to the six surviving Daamens kneeling on the floor, all
bloodied and wounded.
They saw her enter, and fear filled every trader at
the sight of little lass in the grip of a vicious pirate.
“For the love of God.” Breton looked at the space
pirate captain. “She’s a child. Do not harm her!”
“The girl is not your concern.” Lean, dark-haired and
hawk-featured, he spat contemptuously. “She is mine. Bring her here.”
“Nay!”
A laser barrel pressed against Breton’s temple.
“Silence, or we’ll kill you now and it will be worse for her.”
Helpless, he subsided furiously, biting his swollen
lower lip.
“So, a pretty little girl.” The pirate captain smiled,
eyes traveling over her lasciviously. Ah, she was a pretty piece. Young,
yes, probably no older than twelve years. He liked them young, and so did his
son. Slim all over with the promise of filling out pleasingly, for her hips
already showed curves beneath the simple, white, knee-length tunic she wore.
And her breasts--his eyes greedily scanned her chest--were small, still
developing, but one day would be a handful.
Stepping forward, he grabbed hold of her small chin
and titled her head back, studying the pale, tear-stained face.
Breton exchanged glances with his friend, Vetna,
seeing the pain in the young trader’s eyes. He knew Vetna loved Sabra, and was
waiting for her to grow older so he could approach Lok about wedding her. What
hope for any of them now? For Sabra? At the hands of the space pirates--he
shuddered. Far better that she died.
“I can see that we’ll have many hours of entertainment
on this trip. What say you, lads?” The pirate captain leered.
A rumble of lewd laughter and crude suggestions
brought Sabra’s attention to the group of pirates standing nearby, and there
was no doubt they were talking about her. Her skin crawled and she jerked her
chin out of the pirate’s hand.
He laughed. “Your revulsion won’t last long, my
pretty. Once I’ve ploughed you a few times then given you to my men--”
“You bastard!” Vetna snarled. “Lay one hand on her and
I’ll--”
“What? You’ll be dead, trader. There’s nothing you can
do. Unless you care to watch me initiate her into bed sport?”
Vetna started to his feet, murder in his eyes. There
was a crackle and he jerked. Slowly, his eyes wide, he sank to the floor. The
smell of burnt flesh filled the cabin.
“Nay!” Horrified, Sabra stared at the lifeless body of
her friend. “Vetna!”
The hand in her hair jerked her cruelly to a halt when
she started toward the dead trader.
Grimly, Breton clenched his jaw. He couldn’t feel
grief right now because he knew he’d soon be dead, too. His concern was for
Sabra. “I have riches at home,” he began. “In return for her life--”
The pirates roared with laughter.
“Listen to me. I--”
“We have what we came for, the cargo. This little girl
is a bonus. She comes with us.” The pirate grinned.
Looking from her bloodied friends to him, Sabra said
despairingly, “You have what you want. Why not let us go?”
“So, you do speak. Tell me, do you know who I am?”
She shook her head.
“I’m Rark.”
Dread filled her, reflected in the faces of the
Daamens. Aye, they’d all heard of Rark. Bloodthirsty, vicious, and one of the
most feared of space pirates, even in the Outlaw Sector. What was he doing in
the Lawful Sector?
Oh, dear God. They were truly finished, Breton thought bleakly. And Sabra was damned. But
they’d fight to the death for her first. His muscles tightened in
preparation, and he sensed the gathering tension in his friends as they readied
themselves for one last fight--
“Father.”
As one they all looked around to see, in the doorway,
a young pirate. Lean of build, with chestnut hair brushing the collar of his
billowing shirt, his pale green eyes swept over them all.
“Darcus.” Rark raised his brow. “Did you find anyone?”
“One. He fought like the devil.”
“Where is he?”
“Here.” Darcus threw an object on the floor.
It hit with a dull thud, rolled, and came to a stop at
Sabra’s sandaled feet. She looked down into lifeless cobalt blue eyes.
Her father’s head.
Breton cursed as he saw the whitening of her face, and
heard the gasping sounds come from her, shock and grief combined.
Bile rose in her throat. Black dots filled her vision
and she swayed on her feet.
“Well done, my son. You’ve killed Lok, the Daamen
captain. Did he plead for his life?”
“No. Only for his wife and daughter. This, I take it,
is the daughter?”
Thoughtfully Rark regarded the pale young Daamen girl,
then his son, seeing the spark of interest in his eyes. A smile twisted his
thin lips. “You fancy her?”
Striding forward, the young pirate stopped before her.
Tangling his fingers in the brown tresses, he tipped her head back. “How
fortunate. She has his lovely eyes.”
Trembling, Sabra gazed up at him. Surely one so
young, so angelic-looking, could not be so bad? Surely not. Surely... “Help
us,” she whispered.
Throwing back his head, he laughed uproariously.
Her gaze slid past to meet Breton’s and she saw
reflected in there fear for her, for them all. And she knew with certainty that
they were all lost.
“Ah.” Darcus grinned down at her. “You have amused me,
little girl. Father, I surely fancy this little bit.”
“Then have her.” Rark shrugged carelessly. “When you
tire of her, let me know.”
“Oh, I think you’ll have a bit of a wait,” he
returned, fingering the blonde streak in the glossy brown hair.
Nervously Sabra moistened dry lips with the tip of her
tongue.
The eyes above her sharpened at the innocent action
and suddenly the lean pirate jerked her up against him. He crushed the tender
lips ruthlessly with his mouth, plundering the innocent depths without thought
of gentleness. Uncaring.
She struggled, pushing against him, and felt his hand
against her breast, kneading painfully.
“Nay!” Breton surged to his feet. “You bastard!”
The remaining traders rushed forward furiously.
Swiftly Darcus spun her around and before her dazed
eyes she saw the lasers spit death at her friends. Within seconds the Daamen
traders lay dead on the floor, blood pooling beneath them.
“Dear me!” Darcus said. “What a mess.”
The pirates laughed.
Rark strode forward. “Start transferring the cargo to
my ship. There’s no time to lose, we’ve already spent too much time here as it
is.” He glanced at his son. “Don’t linger. Get the girl aboard.”
“In a minute.”
“Don’t play too long.” With a last warning look, Rark
led the pirates from the cabin.
A roaring filled her ears and her breath came in
sobbing gasps. Then she felt the lean body press against her back and a hard
arm snake around her waist.
“Such soft hair. So long. So pretty. And this blonde
streak.” He fingered the silken tresses. “From your dear mother, I would think.
Am I right?”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. It was all a
nightmare. It had to be. Her mother wasn’t dead. Her father was in the control
cabin giving orders. The other traders... Vetna wasn’t dead, either. He was
always bringing her presents from the planets he visited, spending time with
her while her parents smiled and welcomed him. He... was lying in a pool of
blood. Dead.
A sob broke from her.
“Ah, you cry.” Darcus swept her hair back, baring her
throat. “I like little girls that cry.” He nipped the tender flesh then laved
it before fastening his lips to her and sucking fiercely.
She fainted.
Laughing, he swept her up
in his arms and bore her away to the pirate’s spaceship.
One
They were coming. She could almost feel it. A quick glance through the leaves reassured
her that everyone was in place. Now all they had to do was wait.
Settling back against the trunk, she balanced easily
on the branch and, drawing an apple from her jacket pocket, proceeded to eat
it, savoring the sweetness of the crunchy flesh. She knew the others were
getting impatient. She was too, but was more adept at hiding it. Besides,
this prize was worth waiting for.
Beside her, Abra uncoiled and recoiled his whip, over
and over again. Noiselessly. Easily. Probably the only man she knew in the pack
that didn’t mind waiting so long.
The distant sound of voices alerted her and she
straightened, setting the apple core onto the thick branch above her. She
nodded to Abra, who made the loud clicking noise of the bore-beetle. Three
times was the code and three times he gave it in quick succession.
The voices drew nearer. Laughter. Angling her head to
one side, she silently blew back the errant blonde strand that flopped across
her eyes. Three men. Nay, four. And not in a hurry, either. Leisurely.
Taking their time. Her eyes narrowed. Time. Their time was coming and so
was hers.
Stealthily she crouched on the branch, the bullwhip
coiled in her hand. Beside her Abra readied himself, the creased lines of his
brown face an indication of concentration.
Footsteps. Leaves crunching beneath boots. She waited,
mentally counting their steps. The prey was beneath them. Now.
Lithely she dropped from the tree, her knees bent,
landing on her feet and straightening, the whip cracking out to encircle the
ankles of a startled man and yank him off balance.
He fell to the ground.
The three men still standing looked around,
astonished, as seven more men dropped from the trees, surrounding them in a
circle.
“Hands up!” barked Abra.
“Goddamn it!” one of the men cursed.
“Filthy carrion!” another snarled, reaching for his
laser.
Abra sent the whip lashing out with a crack, and it
wound savagely around the man’s wrist. With a scream of pain, he released the
laser.
Abra nodded as the two men dropped their weapons.
The fallen man looked up into the woman’s face and
paled. “You!”
“Me,” she replied.
His three captured
companions turned quickly, their eyes widening as they beheld her.
“It’s not possible!”
“Greetings, Porla. I can’t say ‘tis a pleasure.”
His face darkened. “We should have killed you when we
had the chance!”
“Your sentiments warm my heart.” She motioned with the
whip. “Hands behind your back. Abra, the cuffs.”
“You’re insane!” Porla’s mouth dropped open. “You mean
to--”
“Shut your mouth.”
“Or what?” He sneered, recovering his surprise and
bravado. “You’ll shoot me?”
The smile curving her lips didn’t reach her eyes. “I
have more... entertaining... plans for you.”
Swearing, he stepped forward, halting only when a
laser barrel pressed against his temple.
“Go ahead,” the man holding it invited. “Make me shoot
you.”
Porla knew he would. The eyes of the man were hard and
lifeless. Unrepentant. His gaze swept around the group before returning
to the woman, and he saw the ruthlessness reflected in the cobalt blue eyes. A
chill prickled down his spine. “I have riches--”
She started laughing.
It wasn’t pleasant. He knew he and his shipmates were
damned.
~ * ~
Whistling cheerfully,
“Bloody hell!” Red gasped.
“Stop complaining.”
“Stop complaining? Just because Garret was fool enough
to put you in charge of this trip--”
“Dana’s due to give birth. He won’t come at this time,
so--”
“So you’re captain on this trip. Wonderful.” Grunting,
Red readjusted his grip on the corner of the crate. “I wasn’t aware that meant
you couldn’t assist in carrying this!”
“There’s four of you doing it. Don’t tell me you’re
becoming as frail as a wee wench in your old age?” Setting the heavy barrel
easily onto the ground,
Three of the settlement wenches were walking past the
docking bay, unashamedly ogling the giant, rakishly-handsome Daamen traders.
Red’s grumbling disappeared at the sight of the
wenches, and his gaze lit up with interest. “Hello there, lasses!”
Jase swore. “Bloody hell! Keep your end up, Red!”
“His end is up,” Simon said. “‘Tis always so at the
sight of a pretty wench.”
“Ready to lower this to the ground?” Shamon puffed.
“Oh, aye,” Red replied. “Then I think we need to
recuperate our strength--”
“After we finish unloading.”
“Sound plan,” Jase approved. “Let’s hurry.”
With a sigh, Red returned his attention to the cargo.
The settlement wenches slowed their steps, lingering
as long as they dared. The Daamens were so handsome, in a dangerous, wild and
rakish way. They sighed over their looks, their hearts fluttering at the sight
of bulging muscles rippling impressively as the giants worked. Dreamily, they
eyed the mouth-watering sight of strong legs encased in tight pants and boots,
the bare smooth arms and chests revealed by the sleeveless leather vests they
wore. One wench shivered delightedly at a glimpse of well-developed deltoids
and pectorals, and a stomach that was ribbed with muscle.
The fair-haired one with a beard blew her a kiss just
before he re-entered the trading ship, and she sighed dramatically. These
Daamens were so gorgeous, so dangerous, so big! And bold. With
reluctance she finally left with her companions, knowing they’d lingered as
long as they’d dared. Soon her father would coming looking for her and it
wouldn’t bode well to be caught staring at the traders.
“I’ll be dead of exhaustion before we get there.”
“The merchants approach now. It won’t be long--an hour
at the most.”
Red groaned.
The trading didn’t take long. Prices were met,
contracts agreed upon, and cargo was loaded onto the space carts.
Flicking the controls on to navigate the flat iron
sheets hovering above the ground, the merchant nodded to the giant captain.
“You picked the right time to come, traders.”
“Why’s that?”
“There’s to be a hanging soon.”
“A hanging?” Distaste filled
“Outlaws caught on Ventnor, a planet on the outskirts
of the Outlaw Sector. Just arrived at
“‘Tis not something I fancy watching,”
“Aye.” Red added, “A lovely wench, some ale--”
“Mayhaps a good fight,” Simon grinned.
The merchant chuckled. “You’ll be lucky getting a
fight here. The Daamens are legendary for both wenching and fighting, and while
the wenches won’t be hard to find, forget the fighting!”
Simon sighed. “I haven’t had a good fight in ages!”
“And I haven’t had a wench in two weeks,” Red said.
“Are we ready or not?”
“You are, ‘tis certain.”
“Aye-aye, Cap’n!”
Within minutes they were on their way to the settlement,
their long legs covering the distance easily. Entering the dusty street, they
found the shops empty and the street almost deserted. Walking into the
settlement square, they discovered the reason.
“Looks like the hanging is sooner than expected.”
Shamon stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“Well, look there!” Jase exclaimed, pointing. “Isn’t
that Cormac, the bounty hunter?”
“They must have caught the outlaws,” Simon said.
“Figures. I wonder what they did to catch the attention of that merciless
bastard?”
“It wasn’t him,” an old man beside them stated.
Shamon looked curiously down at him. “‘Twasn’t the
hunters?”
“Oh, it was the bounty hunters, no doubt about it, but
not Cormac. It was his young protégée.”
“He has a protégée? Cormac?”
The old man spat. “Surprise, isn’t it?”
“Never heard of him having one.”
“It’s not widely known. He doesn’t make an issue of
it. Besides, they usually work together, I guess. Who knows? I don’t.”
“So, where is this protégée?” Jase asked.
“Over there, talking to him.”
The traders looked but all they could see was the back
of the hunter talking to Cormac. He was dressed similarly, pants tucked into
boots and a jacket with the collar turned up against the chill breeze.
Cam was about to suggest that they find the tavern
when a stirring started amongst the crowd on the far side, and the settlers
separated to allow five bounty hunters and their captives through a small gap.
One look at their clothes identified them.
“Space pirates,” Jase stated in disgust.
“Must be worse than most for Cormac to follow them--or
his protégée,” Shamon said.
“Most are worse than scum.”
“True. But to hang...” Shamon grimaced.
The pirates were pushed over to the scaffolding, and
the crowd cheered as they started to struggle and had to be dragged up the
steps by the bounty hunters.
“Bloodthirsty lot,” Simon commented.
“Not a lot of sympathy for their like,” Red returned.
“Which doesn’t mean I like to watch people being put to
death.”
Nodding in agreement, his friends followed him through
the crowd, which parted before the giants and closed again behind them.
They’d neared the wooden sidewalk when a clear voice,
unmistakably feminine, announced calmly and loudly, “Hang them.”
Curiously,
“No, listen! You can’t--” one of the pirates started
to shriek.
“Hang them high.”
Startled,
She was female.
She was a bounty hunter.
Riveted, he stared across the crowd at her. Turned
sideways, gazing up at the pirates dispassionately, her profile was delicate.
Even from here he could see the fine lines of her small, up-titled nose and
full lips.
As if sensing his regard, she turned her head and met
his gaze almost immediately. Cobalt blue eyes seared into him searchingly,
before disregarding him and returning to the pirates on the scaffolding.
“What the hell...?” Shamon began, puzzled.
“Do we know her?” Jase wondered at the same time.
Taking an apple from her pocket, she nodded to the
hunter. He pulled the lever and the pirates dropped through the trapdoor. Their
necks broke instantaneously.
The crowd gasped in horrified delight.
The traders winced.
“Come on,” Red muttered behind him. “I really need
that drink now.”
~ * ~
“You’ve hung four more.” Cormac sipped at the hot una,
watching her pace.
“Yes.”
“How many left, Sabra?”
“Five.”
“Five,” he repeated. “Do you know where they are?”
“Not yet. There’s an informant meeting me at the
tavern.” She stopped pacing to look at him. “Do you wish to come?”
“Do you wish me to?”
“I’m not in the mood for word games, Cormac.”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“The hunt. The kill.”
“The peace?”
“Do you think there is such a thing after all this?”
“For you? I would hope so.”
Turning away, she gazed out the window of the
Peacekeepers law office. The tavern was right across the street.
“You saw them?”
“Who?”
Setting the cup on the table, Cormac stood up. “The
Daamens, Sabra. You know of whom I speak.”
“I saw.”
“And?”
“And nothing. That part of my life is over, you know
that.” Swinging lithely on her heel, she strode across the room and opened the
door. “Come or not, ‘tis of no never mind to me.”
He heard her words and saw her glance. Certain,
unafraid. Liking him to accompany her but unfazed if he didn’t. A feeling akin
to fondness visited him briefly. The girl--the young woman, now--was the only
person he’d allowed to grow close to him. Or as close as anyone could. “Wait
for an old hunter.”
“You are but forty seven years. Hardly what I’d call
an old man.”
“Have you forgotten to respect your elders?”
She smiled suddenly. “I wasn’t aware I had to respect
you--old man.”
“Get out.” He swatted her with her jacket before
handing it to her. “And cover up. It’s getting bloody cold this evening.”
Shrugging into the jacket, she waited for him to don
his own and close the door. As they stepped onto the street, Abra and another
hunter fell into step beside them.
Bounty hunters were not a popular breed, regardless of
the outlaws they captured. Those wishing to live long lives went in company,
never alone.
A cold wind made her shiver and she was glad of the
warmth of the tavern they entered. Heavy music, smoke, bright lights and the
smell of food and ale besieged her senses.
Talk died momentarily as the hunters entered, curious
eyes trained on Sabra, but a hard look from Cormac’s cold gaze made them look
away quickly and return to their conversations.
Glancing around, Sabra spotted the informant. “There
she is.”
“A woman?” Cormac raised his brows.
“A woman scorned,” Sabra returned. “Dangerous.”
“Very. Shall we?”
They approached the table while their companions went
to the bar nearby, leaning on it to face the room watchfully.
The woman nodded as Sabra and Cormac sat down. “You
have the money?”
“Do you have the information?” Sabra returned.
“The five you seek were last seen in Kyros.”
“On Ylan.” Sabra nodded.
“The Outlaw Sector,” Cormac stated. “How long ago?”
“Four weeks.”
“And why should we believe you?”
Lifting her arm, she drew back the patched sleeve to
show scabs. It was a name cut into her flesh.
One look and Sabra reached into her pocket. Pulling
out a pouch, she withdrew several dinnos. “A hundred, as promised.”
Quickly the woman scooped the coins up before
standing. “No offense if I leave, but I don’t want to be in your company too
long.”
“Wouldn’t want you tainted,” Sabra replied. “Go.”
Cormac shifted seats so that they both faced the room.
“Use us and leave us, hmm?”
“We serve their purpose and vice versa.” She indicated
to a tavern wench who hurried across to them. “I’m starving. How about you?”
They gave their order, then sat back and relaxed. In
deference to the heat inside the tavern, Sabra shrugged out of the jacket and
laid it across her lap.
Abra and Belmos joined them and they ate in silence
for a while, savoring what, for them, was a pleasant time. There was no threat,
no hunt, no strung nerves. Finished eating, they sat back with their drinks and
Sabra listened idly to her friends talk.
She looked up when heavy boots sounded on the sidewalk
and the door opened to admit a group of eight heavily-muscled giants. The
lights winked off the small silver hoop they all sported in their left
earlobes. Combined with the long hair that swirled around their caped shoulders
and down their backs in disarray, it only added to their dangerously roguish
looks. Daamen traders.
Laughing, deep-voiced and good-natured, they sat at a
table across the room and in a ridiculously short time, all seven tavern
wenches were fluttering around their table, hips swaying enticingly.
But it was one Daamen in particular that drew her gaze
like a magnet. Thick, glossy black hair hung down his back in cascading curls,
a strip of rawhide tied around it in a vain attempt at taming.
It was the same Daamen whom she’d sensed staring at
her in the settlement square. Unerringly she’d found him in the crowd--not hard
to do, since he stood head and shoulders above them all. For a fleeting instant
those dark eyes had stopped her thoughts, locking with hers, a sense of
familiarity bombarding her. Then she’d shrugged it off, disregarding him,
returning her attention to the job at hand.
Now she frowned. He seemed familiar. Had she known
him previously? In her other life? Before... Her mind skittered away from
unpleasant memories. Just before... Mayhaps. She was bound to come
across one now and again whom she’d known in the distant past. That was why she
rarely came this far into the Lawful Sector. She didn’t want to be recognized.
Of course, years had passed. The likelihood was slim now. She’d changed.
In more ways than one. She shook her head, pushing back the lock of blonde
hair that escaped the confines of the bun at her nape.
Abra shot her an amused glance. “Find a tasty male to
seduce?”
“Bugger off.”
He laughed.
~ * ~
Sitting back in the chair that creaked alarmingly
beneath his weight and quaffing ale,
“More to the point, what can I do for you?” She batted
her lashes.
“Another mug of ale?” he suggested. At her
disappointed look, he winked. “To get my strength up for later.” He pinched her
ample bottom.
With a giggle, she hurried off to do his bidding.
“Well,” said Jase, standing up and slinging one arm
around the buxom wench by his side. “I’d be tempted to pick a fight with our
friends the bounty hunters, but the wench in their midst prevents me, so,” he
nudged the wench by his side with one hip, “I’m going to spend some quality
time with this delicious little morsel.”
“Aye, sounds like a good idea,” Red agreed, coming to
his feet and swinging a squealing tavern wench up in his muscular arms. “You
will be gentle with me, won’t you, lass?”
“Of course,” she cooed, “But you won’t with me, will
you?”
He rolled his eyes.
She was there. The bounty hunter. Talking to her companions. Slender fingers were
pushing back a lock of blonde hair and his gaze grew keener. Blonde hair?
The wench had a patch of blonde hair--a good handful by the look of it--amongst
an otherwise head of rich brown tresses. It was odd. Familiarly so. Those
startling eyes lifted, heavily fringed with black lashes. She’d obviously said
something humorous, for the older man with the mohawk laughed. She grimaced.
Then amazingly,
“Here you are, handsome.” The tavern wench plunked a
mug of ale before him and sat down on his lap, blocking his view.
Startled out of his perusal, he blinked.
“Your ale,” she repeated. “Are you all right?”
“Ah-aye. Tell me, that female hunter--”
“Her?” She glanced over her shoulder.
“Aye. Who is she?”
“Don’t know.” She shrugged. “Obviously a killer. That
breed are. Anyway, don’t worry about her.” Giggling, she snuggled closer. “I’ll
take care of you.”
Above her head he saw the bounty hunters get to their
feet and prepare to leave. The wench donned a jacket, the shirt she wore
pulling tight as her arms thrust back into the sleeves. Generous breasts were
outlined before being hidden by the jacket lapels. She followed Cormac from the
room, her gaze briefly meeting his. Her eyes narrowed a fraction and again
there was the jolt of something familiar about her.
Those eyes. That hair.
Then she looked away and stepped through the door. It
swung shut behind her and she was gone.
Looking at Simon and Shamon, he caught their quizzical
gazes.
“Are you all right?” Shamon asked.
How could he explain what he didn’t understand
himself? “Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Certain. Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Mmm, me too,” the tavern wench purred.
“For food, lass.”
At her pout, Borga laughed aloud. “Next to fighting
and wenching, lass, we have a liking for food. Lots of food. Deal with one and
you’ll get the other!”
Disgruntled, she left the warm lap of the handsome
giant to get a platter of steaming meat. A large platter. She wanted his
appetite well and truly satisfied so she could get down to the business of
getting him into bed. She knew these lusty traders, had experienced their
bedroom charms before, and by the stars and moons, she couldn’t wait for
another experience!
~ * ~
Later that night,
“I can’t believe you let that wench go without bedding
her!” Simon waved his arms in the air. “She was so disappointed!”
“To lose interest like that.” Red shook his head
sadly. “The responsibilities of being a captain must weigh heavily upon such
young shoulders.”
“All of twenty and five,” Jase added mournfully. “And
all used up!”
“I was used up.” Shamon leered.
“Aye, me too.” Red brightened. “But I can be ready
again in a flash!”
“Never--I say, never!--am I too drunk to bed a lass!”
Red informed him solemnly, veering off the road.
Grinning,
“You, however.” Sadly he shook his head again, red
hair straggling across his face. “I can see I’m going to have to take you in
hand and teach you a few things.”
“You?” Simon hooted.
“Aye, me!”
Simon laughed, burped loudly, and tripped, plowing
into Shamon and Jase and nearly bringing them all to their knees.
Amused,
Once in his bunk, his mind returned to the bounty
hunter. What was it about her? Until he’d spotted her, he’d had every
intention of enjoying the charms of the tavern wench and making merry with his
friends, but somehow, after their gazes had met yet again, all desire for the
wench on his lap vanished. And while still happy to be with his friends and
enjoy a drink, that’s all he’d wanted. Nothing more.
It was strange.
That night he was plagued with dreams he hadn’t had
for eight years. When he awoke, he couldn’t remember them but his cheeks were
wet.
Two
“Sabra! Wake up.”
Groaning, she pulled the rugs over her head. “Go
away!”
“Cormac’s orders, girl. We leave soon.”
“So get me then.”
The sound of voices, a laugh, then Shaque’s deep
tones. “Out of bed, Sabra, or I’m coming in to get you.”
Cursing, she flung the rugs back and swung her legs
out of the bed. “What’s the hurry, damn it?”
“We’re all ready and you’re not. Are you up?”
“Aye. Now leave me to get ready in peace.”
“Fifteen minutes.” The sound of his boots faded down
the corridor.
Muttering to herself, Sabra staggered into the shower.
Morning, in her opinion, always came too soon. The spray of water cleared her
sleep-befuddled senses and she was tempted to stay beneath the shower for a
while, but knowing that Shaque was capable of carrying out his threat, turned
the water off and dried herself.
Studying her reflection in the mirror, she screwed her
nose up at the traces of sleep still on her face. Her eyes held a sleepy look
while the thick hair was tousled. “Beautiful sight,” she muttered, reaching for
the sleeveless bodice hanging on the hook beside the door.
Pulling it around herself and across her breasts, she
laced it up tightly for support, then stilled when her eyes fell on the mark
reflected in the mirror. Slowly she reached up to trace the delicate silver
mark above her left breast. A small curve, like an incomplete circle on its
side, with a dainty scroll at each end curling back on itself. The mark with
which she was born. Inherited from her mother, as she’d inherited from her
mother and so on, back through the ages. The mark all female Daamens inherited.
The mark she hadn’t thought about for years--until
now.
Swearing softly, she quickly shrugged into her shirt
and reached for the coarse pants. Seeing the Daamen traders had obviously
shaken her a little, bringing back unwelcome memories. Which was strange
because the few glimpses she’d had in the past had never affected her.
And it still wouldn’t. Setting her jaw, she drew the brush through her
hair, twisted it into the customary bun, and fastened it with a clip. Moving
more quickly, she finished her toiletries and packed her few belongings into
the knapsack. There were pirates to hunt down and drag to justice. To hang.
To die with no mercy. And five in particular. She strapped the
long-barreled laser to her back and fastened the coiled bullwhip to the belt at
her waist. Holding the knapsack by one strap, she grabbed the apple off the
dressing table and strode out into the corridor.
A laser pressed to her temple. “You’re dead.”
“I’ll shove the bloody thing down your throat in a
minute, Alen, if you don’t remove it.”
“Testy.” He holstered it. “What’s eating you?”
She looked him up and down, taking in the neat black
hair and cold features. “Stupid bastards waving lasers around.”
A thin smile appeared. “Upset because I caught you
being careless?”
“Annoyed because you’re so full of yourself.”
“But you were careless. You should know by now that
you never step out into a corridor without checking first.”
“Lectures from you I don’t need.” Pushing past him,
she started for the stairs.
He followed. “Obviously reminders are.”
Irritated, she rapidly took the steps two at a time.
“If I want a reminder, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, keep them to
yourself.”
She was in a bad mood. Speculatively, he eyed her. “So what’s the real
problem? Four more pirates have hung. I’d have thought you’d be happy.”
“I’ll be happy when they’re all dead.” She shoved the
door open, narrowly missing a settler, who took one look at her thunderous
expression and scuttled off quickly. “Is everyone else ready?”
“Of course. You’re the last.”
“Get off my back with your insinuations.”
“I never insinuated anything.” Amusement flickered in
Alen’s hard gaze. “Save your anger for Kyros. You’ll need it on the edge of the
Outlaw Sector.”
Memory came back and annoyance fled to be replaced
with keen urgency. “How long until we get there?”
“From here? Four weeks.”
Four weeks too long. Moodily she took a bite out of the apple.
“Don’t fret. The time will go fast, you’ll see.”
She forced herself to relax slightly. “Aye, you’re
right. I’ve waited eight years, what’s four weeks more?”
“About time.” Abra stood up from his slouching
position against the verandah post. “A few more minutes and Shaque was going to
come get you.”
Sabra looked at the man sitting on the bench twirling
two daggers deftly in his hands, the blades flashing in the sunlight. “Not if
he values his life.”
“He’s the only one psycho enough to do it,” Abra said.
“That’s why we always get him to go in.”
White teeth flashed in a grim smile as Shaque stood
up. The daggers twisted in the air, came down, and danced around his
forefingers like magic.
“He’s a psycho full stop,” Sabra stated.
One of the daggers suddenly skipped out of his hand,
arcing out to pierce the apple she held close to her mouth.
“Bloody hell!” Startled, she dropped the apple.
The hunters roared as their companion shook her hand
before inspecting it for cuts.
Still chuckling, Shaque
retrieved the dagger from the apple before kicking the fruit away.
Immediately a little vagrat bounded out of the nearby
alley, grabbed the apple in its four front paws, and bounded back into shelter,
big hind feet kicking up sprays of dirt.
Disgusted, Sabra stepped down off the verandah, only
to be halted by the blonde hunter’s hand on her arm. Glancing back, she saw him
bow and proffer another apple on his open palm.
Her lips twitched suddenly and she reached out and
took the apple. “You’re an idiot, Shaque.”
He grinned.
“Enough fooling,” Abra announced. “Cormac and the
others are waiting. The ship has been serviced and is ready to go.”
They fell into step, two abreast, automatically
surveying their surroundings as they walked through the settlement, conscious
of the many curious and hostile eyes following them.
Leaving the settlement behind, they approached the
docking bay to see four ships there. One was the bounty hunters’ grim black
ship, a small travel craft, a planet shuttle, and the large Daamen trading
ship.
She saw the traders immediately, talking cheerfully as
they loaded the last of their cargo and did last minute checks. Her own
companions were menacingly silent in comparison, each dressed in clothes
according to their native planet, standing beside the black hunting ship and
listening to Cormac speak to the peacekeeper of the settlement.
Intent now on leaving as soon as possible, Sabra
walked up the ramp into the small cargo area and climbing the stairs, came out
into the corridor. On one side were ten sleeping cabins, on the other the
control cabin and dining cabin. Behind the cargo hold were the five holding
cells with steel doors.
Entering her cabin, she tossed the knapsack and laser
onto the bunk before heading back out into the corridor.
Harld stuck his head out of the control cabin. “Even
though the servicing has been done while we stayed overnight in the settlement,
Cormac wants the customary checks done.”
“On my way,” she replied.
Quickly she went down the stairs again, into the cargo
hold, and down the ramp. Belmos was already checking the landing stands,
ensuring they were oiled and smooth.
Crouching down, she inspected the panels covering the
engines, finding them securely sealed. Opening them one by one, she scanned the
engines for any foreign bodies that shouldn’t be there, but found them all
shining clean and untouched apart from the servicing. Their ship was their only
mode of transport from planet to planet and had been a safe haven on more than
one occasion. Upkeep and servicing was a priority, but checks were still done
before leaving, in case of sabotage.
Further back, she inspected the fuel panel, slamming
the heel of her hand against it to make sure it was shut. With a nod of
satisfaction, she straightened and strode around the back of the ship. And cannoned
into what felt like a stone wall, only this wall was warm and muscle-bound.
“Steady, lass.” Two big hands settled on her
shoulders, bracing her.
Looking up--and it was a way up--she found herself
staring into a pair of eyes so dark a brown as to be almost black. Wild black
curls were pulled back into a haphazard ponytail from which several errant
strands trailed over huge, broad shoulders.
It was the Daamen trader, the one she’d caught looking
at her yesterday.
Dazed for a second, a name sprang unbidden to her
lips. “
The dark eyes sharpened. “Do I know you, lass?”
“What?” Quickly she regained her senses. “Nay. I don’t
know you. I’ve heard your name, ‘tis all.” Fool. If she wasn’t careful...
The speech was familiar. There was a Daamen lilt to the
words and the way she spoke. Puzzled,
Seeing the intensity in his gaze, she recognized the
danger. Brusquely shrugging out from beneath his hands, she put some distance
between them. “What do you want, trader?”
He was still regarding her with puzzlement, a frown
marring his brow, bringing to her notice the faint scar above his left brow and
another from his left ear to partway across his cheek. It added to his
dangerous appeal rather than detracting from it..
“I have to leave,” she snapped. “Say what you will or
go. I have no time to waste.”
“Hmm? Oh.” He held out his hand. “This piece of galaxy
map was seen to blow from out of your cargo hold. It got caught on our ramp
rail.”
With a precise movement she took the map and swung
around on her heel. “Thank you.”
She glanced at him once more before entering the ship.
And her eyes. Such
an intense color, so fathomless. Startling. He shook his head. Mayhaps he
was starting to imagine things. Mayhaps Red was right for once. He had been
without female companionship too long. Or mayhaps he was getting too much space
travel, too many atmospheric changes on the different planets. Mayhaps he
needed to go home to Daamen for a while and readjust to his natural
environment.
Aye, after the trip to Walot on Ylan, they’d go home.
‘Twas their last trading orders for this trip, anyway.
~ * ~
Sitting by the porthole, Sabra leaned back in the
chair with both feet propped up on the little table, and stared out at the
black emptiness of space filled with glittering stars. They’d been in space for
an hour, and still she found it hard to banish the trader from her mind.
Until today?
Ridiculous,
she scoffed to herself, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It couldn’t be
Yearn? She
gazed down into the cup. Nay, not yearn. There was no point yearning.
She’d chosen her path a long time ago. Not for her the safe, protected life of
a Daamen wench. She was a bounty hunter.
The distant planets beckoned to her through the
porthole, twinkling their enticement. New worlds, new beings. New outlaws and
old tricks.
Even if the trader by some unexpected chance was
~ * ~
Glasses shattered as bullwhips cracked. The sound of a
laser crackling was followed by the smell of burnt flesh and an agonized
shriek.
With one arm Sabra blocked the punch aimed at her,
swinging her other fist and feeling it sink into the soft, protruding stomach
of the outlaw.
He grunted, staggered back, took a gulp of air and
started forward once more, murder in his eyes, only to come to a standstill as
the chair Alen wielded broke over his head. He dropped to the floor, eyes
glazed.
Swinging around, Sabra saw that they were winning the
battle. Belmos was finishing off one outlaw, while yet another was kneeling on
the floor with the point of Shaque’s dagger pricking his throat.
Eight outlaws lay unconscious on the floor, whiplashes
marring some of their throats, a grim testament to the dexterity with which the
hunters wielded their whips. But there was still battle. Abra, Cormac, and
Harld were fighting it out savagely with three outlaws.
Reaching back over her shoulder, Sabra dragged forth
the long-barreled laser and raising it to the ceiling, pulled the trigger. The
resulting crackle was almost deafening and pieces of ceiling came splintering
down upon the combatants.
“God save us!” a tavern whore shrieked.
“Hands up!” roared Sabra. “Everyone!”
Startled, the fighting outlaws spun around, their
gazes darting around quickly. All they saw was a slim woman with a
long-barreled laser. Their eyes followed the barrel as it lowered from the
direction of the ceiling to point directly at them.
“Where the hell did you get a man-blaster from?” one
gaped.
“Never mind. Hit the floor on your knees--now!”
Hurriedly they knelt, glancing around and realizing
that their companions were unconscious. There was no doubt that none of the watchers
would assist, either. Wary of the hunters and being morbidly curious, now
they’d seen which side had won, they were content to stand back and watch the
outcome with interest. Typical for the scum so near the Outlaw Sector. The
place was lawless but not immune to the peacekeepers, bounty hunters, and rough
justice dealt out by both. No, there’d be no assistance from this lot. It was
every man and woman for themselves.
“All right, tie these two up and bring them back to
the ship,” Cormac instructed, gesturing at two of the unconscious men.
“What about us?” One of the outlaws asked nervously.
“You’re of no consequence in this particular hunt.”
“Besides, you wouldn’t bring us much in the way of
bounty,” Belmos said. “The going price for you lot is less than what it would
cost us to feed you on the journey.”
A snicker swept the barroom and the outlaws flushed,
but wisely kept silent.
Hoisting one of the unconscious men over his shoulder,
Harld nodded to Cormac. “Ready.”
The hunters backed out of the tavern, their lasers
carefully trained on the occupants. Once outside, they made for the ship,
entering quickly and bringing the ramp up behind them, but a glance beforehand
assured Sabra that no one had bothered to follow.
“Probably glad to see the back of us,” Abra chuckled.
“Take the prisoners to separate cells and chain them
to the walls,” Cormac instructed. “Then douse them with a bucket of water. I
want them brought around fast.”
His hunters nodded and bore the captives off.
As soon as they were out of sight, Cormac slumped
against the wall.
“What’s wrong?” Sabra caught him by one arm.
“I got hit by the laser blast from one of those
outlaws.” Cormac grimaced.
“Let me see.” She reached for the jacket.
“Don’t fuss,” he snapped, pushing her hand away.
Ignoring him, Sabra pulled the lapel back to see the
blood soaking through the shirt in an alarmingly wide patch. “Abra, help me get
him to his cabin. Shaque, the medipack.”
“I can walk by myself.” Cormac gritted his teeth.
“Course you can,” Abra said, tucking his shoulder
beneath his leader’s armpit and taking some of the weight. “Let’s go.”
By the time they laid him on his bunk, sweat was
dripping from his pale face. Carefully they removed the jacket and shirt.
Studying the jagged wound with the burnt edges up near
his shoulder, Sabra reached for the medipack which Shaque had placed beside the
bunk. “I’ll have to cut the black edges away if we’re to avoid infection. Do
you want some pain killer first?”
“Just get on with it.” Cormac clenched his teeth
against the wave of pain that swept through him.
“Your choice.” She reached for the scissors. “If at
any time--”
“Do it!”
With an efficiency born of practice, Sabra snipped the
blackened edges away, never once looking up at Cormac’s face, unable to bear
seeing the pain she knew would be in his tight features. Abra handed her the
antiseptic, followed by needle and thread, standing nearby in case he had to
restrain Cormac, but knowing it wouldn’t be needed.
The pain of needle and thread piercing his flesh was
almost more than he could bear, but Cormac kept his jaw clenched tight. The
wound throbbed from the antiseptic and laser blast but at least he was alive.
The scum would pay, anyway. Sometime, somewhere, he always got his man. It was
the one thing he prided himself on.
“Done.” Sabra stuck the self-adhesive patch over the
wound. “It’ll hurt for a while.”
He nodded shortly and started to swing his feet over
the edge of the bunk.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She placed a
restraining hand on his good shoulder.
“The prisoners--”
“Won’t go anywhere. You need to rest.”
“Like hell.”
“Be sensible, Cormac. You’ve blood loss--”
“And a lot more in the past and survived to hunt my
man--”
“With the blood pouring out of you like a tap. Aye,
I’ve heard the story before. ‘Tis most impressive. But I’m here to tell you--”
“Since when did you become leader of this pack?”
Taking her hand, he removed it with more gentleness than his harsh words would
imply. “When I need a nursemaid, I’ll hire one. Now, come on, I’m anxious to
check out these prisoners.”
Muttering to herself, she
stood up.
Abra grinned at her, quickly smothering it when Cormac
swung his head around to glare at him.
“Right, then.” Abra stepped out of the cabin. “Lead
the way.”
Cormac was definitely slower going down the stairs
than normal, but his shoulders were back and stride smooth. Reaching the end
cell he pushed past Belmos, who was leaning against the door, and into the
cell.
Entering behind him, Sabra saw one of their captives
chained to the wall. Though sitting on the bench, his arms were drawn up tight
above him. A single light above him cast a gloomy appearance around the steel
walls.
“What the hell is all this about?” the man growled.
“You’re a pirate, figure it out for yourself,” Cormac
replied coldly.
“So, you’re after the bounty on my head? Surprise,
surprise. I don’t have one.”
“Personally, no. But as a pirate in general, you have
a very big price. Even more so when we have your captain and other surviving
members.”
The pirate laughed. “With what proof? Who would dare
to come forward and point the finger at me?”
“I will.”
Hearing the feminine voice, his gaze switched to the
speaker. “Who are you?”
“Tsk-tsk. Don’t you recognize me?”
“I can hardly see you in this light. Who are you?
What’s your name?”
Sabra stepped forward, shadows and light cast on her
face. “Still don’t know me, Tenyos? Have the years taken their toll on your
drink-sodden mind?”
He frowned, studying her, wondering who she was. In
some way she seemed so familiar. This young woman, surely he’d remember one
so pretty? “Who are you to me, girl?”
“Girl? Aye, I was a girl. But it didn’t matter to any
of you, did it? You took me anyway.”
His gaze narrowed, a faint memory jogging at him. His
gaze flashed from her to Cormac and suddenly he paled.
“Eight years does make a difference, doesn’t it?” she
purred.
“The Daamen!”
“Aye, that’s right. You attacked my father’s ship and
killed everyone aboard--except me.”
“Hey now, that was Rark’s doing! I merely followed
orders, I--”
“You’re going to hang, Tenyos. See, I even remembered
your name. I remember all your names. I never forgot one of you.”
His hands fisted as a sudden thought occurred to him.
“You! You’re the female bounty hunter we’ve heard about! You’re the one that
captured some of my mates!”
“The one and only.” She smiled coldly. “With the
assistance of my friends, I’ve hung every one of you bastards. Now there’s only
five more to go. Sorry, three, for I already have you two in my grasp.”
“Wait! You can’t hang me! I didn’t hurt you, I--”
“You never helped me, either. And didn’t you want a
piece of me after? Or does my memory serve me wrong?”
“Damn it!” His eyes were wide, a touch of desperation
in them. “I couldn’t do anything! I swear, if I could have done something,
anything, to stop Darcus--”
“How sweet. I never knew you cared. What do you think,
Cormac?”
“Whatever you want is fine by me, Sabra.”
Tenyos felt sick. This woman had the backing of one of
the most ruthless bounty hunters in the galaxy. He’d heard of Cormac and his
pack, heard of the female that ran with them. She was as ruthless as they when
it came to outlaws and pirates. Hung them without a qualm, and had even been
known to pull the lever herself. He was done for, knew it in his bones. He
had to find a way out of this.
“Listen, Sabra. You can’t hang me. I’ve a woman of my
own, a couple of kids--”
“How touching.” She turned away. “Tell someone who
cares.”
“No, wait! I beg you! I’ll do whatever it takes, only
don’t hang me!”
She snapped around with amazing speed. “Anything,
Tenyos?”
“Anything! Whatever you want, I’ll give it! Money,
riches, jewels--”
“Where do I find the rest of the pirates?”
“Huh?”
“Darcus and the others. Your ‘mates’.”
“I can’t tell you that--”
“I’ll ensure you have a nice hanging. I’ll even pull
the lever myself.”
“For God’s sake--”
Idly she twirled a blonde lock around one finger. “You
know, ‘tis my choice if you strangle slowly or break your neck, nice and swift.
But you don’t wish to help me so I hope you’re not in a hurry to die, because
it won’t be quick.”
Wildly Tenyos looked from her pitiless face to the
merciless ones of the bounty hunters. There was no help from any of them. He
was going to hang. Unless--he didn’t really owe Darcus anything, did he?
Certainly not his life. And how would Darcus know that it was he, Tenyos, who
had betrayed him? “All right, I’ll tell you!”
Her finger stilled. “You will?”
“Yes--for a price.”
“A price.”
A craftiness crept into his eyes. If he played this
wisely... “I’ll tell you where Darcus is in exchange for my freedom.”
“Ah, I see.” Sabra glanced at Cormac. “What do you
think?”
Cormac shrugged. “Depends how badly you want Darcus.”
“Oh, I want him more than anything I’ve ever wanted in
my life.”
“Well then, it’s your call.”
“Mmm, so ‘tis. Very well.” She returned her attention
to Tenyos. “Where is he?”
“Before I tell, I want your word that you’ll release
me.”
“My word? Don’t you trust me?”
“The word of a Daamen is true. The word of a bounty
hunter is questionable.”
“My, that ‘tis a bit harsh, but I see your point. My
word as a Daamen, then. You will be released once you tell me what I want to
know.”
Three
Relaxing, Tenyos leaned back against the wall. “Darcus
and his two crew mates are resting up in Walot.”
“The other side of Ylan?”
“That’s right.”
“Where’s their safe-house?”
“He never told me that.” At her darkening expression,
he added hurriedly, “But I know you can find out from the tavern there. His
lady-love owns it.”
Silently Sabra appraised him before nodding
thoughtfully. “How interesting. Are you sure he’s there now?”
“Of course. Like I said, he’s resting up before
gathering a new crew.”
“To go pirating.”
“For a big job, so rumor has it.”
A cold smile curved her lips. “Well, I think we’ll
just have to put a little stumbling block in his plans. A noose should do quite
nicely.” She turned around and started for the door.
“Hey! Wait a minute!”
She didn’t stop walking.
Tenyos tried to get to his feet. “You forgot about
me!”
“What about you?” Sabra paused in the doorway to look
back at him.
“You haven’t released me.”
“I’ll release you, all right, from my hands to the
noose.”
“The noose? But you gave me your word.” Dumbfounded,
he stared at her. “As a Daamen!”
“Funny thing, that. Eight years ago all links to my
home world were taken from me. And you know what? I never got them back.”
“You can’t do this!” Frantically he kicked out with
his legs, trying to get up but prevented by the cuffs holding him to the wall.
“You can’t break your word!”
“I just did.” Sabra walked out of the cell.
Behind her she heard the cell door shut, heard Tenyos
cursing and yelling, and a smile crossed her face.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Cormac drew abreast of
her.
“More than you’ll ever know.” Taking an apple from her
pocket, she bit into it with relish.
“Will you be wishing to see the other pirate?” Belmos asked,
coming up on her other side.
“Afterwards. Let him sit and sweat while listening to
his friend squealing. It’ll make it all the more entertaining when I finally go
and see him.”
“You’re an evil woman.” Belmos grinned.
“You trained me well.”
Going to the control cabin, Sabra set the coordinates
for Walot before returning to the dining cabin. There she found Cormac sitting
at the table, a cup of hot una before him.
“How’s your wound?” She nodded to his shoulder.
“Fine.” He shrugged, barely hiding the wince of pain
the movement caused him.
She poured herself a cup of the hot liquid. “We arrive
in five hours.”
“Late afternoon.”
“Aye.” Turning, she studied him. “Are you sure you’re
up to it? You can stay on board--”
“Like hell,” he replied mildly.
“‘Tis no shame--”
“It would be like me telling you to do the same
because you’re a female.”
“That wouldn’t stop me.”
“As this minor wound doesn’t prevent me being in on
the hunt. You should know that nothing stops me, Sabra.”
Taking the chair opposite, she leveled her eyes upon
him and after several long seconds, then said quietly, “Aye, how well I know
that. I never forgot it. Forgive me for even suggesting such a thing.”
“Forgiveness for you is not needed.” He hesitated.
“How did you feel when you met the Daamen?”
“Who?”
“I saw you bump into
She gazed blankly at him.
“Where we hung the pirates four weeks ago.”
“What of it?”
“Did it disturb you at all?”
“Why should it?” Avoiding his searching eyes, she
sipped again at the una.
“It was your first close contact in eight years.”
“I think I handled it rather well. Don’t you?”
“Too well, maybe?”
Her gaze flashed up to meet his. “What do you mean by
that?”
“Come, Sabra. Your people are Daamens. Did you feel a
kinship?”
“Why should I? I hardly know them.”
“Do you ever wish to return to Daamen?”
She snorted. “For what? I wouldn’t fit in with them
now, Cormac. To learn the prissy rules of a Daamen wench, to dance and be
polite, run a business, wait faithfully at home for the men to return from
their trading. To be under the Daamen laws. I can’t do it.”
“Would it be so hard?”
“God above! What brought this on?” Sparks of anger
started to shoot in the cobalt depths of her eyes. “Do you think I’m going
soft?”
He held his hands up, palms forward. “Settle down, girl.
That’s not so, was never in question. I guess I’m just curious.”
“Curious? After all this time, after eight years of my
living with you and the others, you are only now curious?”
“It’s natural. After all, you’re a young woman--”
“What the hell--”
“I just wondered if the contact with
Standing up, she braced her hands on the table and
leaned forward purposefully. “My people are you and the other hunters, Cormac.
You were there for me, you saved me. You gave me back my dignity and gave me a
purpose in life. That’s all I need.”
“And once the pirates are killed? Then what?”
“Then I continue hunting for bounty on other outlaws
and pirates.”
“Don’t you ever wish for a family? A husband? To go
home to Daamen even for just a visit?”
“For a visit? Do you know what would happen to me if I
did that?” One slender hand flung up in the air. “Those Daamens would never let
me go!”
“Don’t you think they’d take into consideration your
circumstances?”
“Nay! You know the way the men are, Cormac. The
wenches are to be cherished and protected, and kept safe on Daamen. The only
time they leave is under escort of Daamen men. It would drive me insane! I
can’t do it, Cormac. ‘Twould kill me. I’d suffocate under those conditions.”
“Calm down, Sabra. No one said you had to go back.”
“Then what are you getting at? What’s the point to all
this?”
Leaning back in the chair, he folded his arms. “The
Daamen traders are in Walot.”
“What?” She sat back down slowly. “What for?”
“To trade, what else?”
Two encounters in such a short time frame? What if she
met one of them again and somehow, God forbid, he recognized her? But why
should he? No one had so far. Forcing
herself to calm down, she turned the cup in her hand, tracing patterns on the
surface of the table. “This has you concerned?”
“No. I just thought you should be warned.”
“Oh. Why?”
“I didn’t know your feelings about them.” Cormac
sighed. “Honestly, girl! Do you think I’m a mind-reader?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied stiffly.
They sat in silence for several minutes, Cormac
staring into the distance without expression while she gazed into the depths of
the cup. The thick black fluid reminded her of inky curls and dark eyes. It was
ridiculous but she had to know.
“So,” she started, trying to sound casual. “The trader
I bumped into?”
“Mmm?” Cormac returned his gaze to her.
“His name is ‘
“Correct.” He swallowed the last of the una and set
the cup on the table. “Did you, perchance, know him in the past?”
“If ‘tis the same man I am thinking of, aye.”
“How could it be different? Either it is or it isn’t.”
“Aye, it has to be him. I knew him when I was a child.
The last time I saw him, he was sixteen.”
“Is there any chance he might recognize you?”
“Nay.” She shook her head. “I was only eleven. I look
much different now.”
Comparing the child to the woman before him, the
bounty hunter nodded. “You have changed.”
“For the better, I hope.” A wry smile tugged at her
lips.
“For the worst.” Grinning, Cormac raised his empty cup
in a salute. “No bounty hunter is good!”
~ * ~
The winds blew coldly, snow sleeting down wetly.
Visibility was nil, so when the bounty hunters’ ship landed, they had to stay
inside for an hour before the snow softened to a gentle, powdery fall.
Impatiently, Sabra waited at the porthole. The tavern
would be their destination, a visit to Darcus’s lady-love to find out where his
safe-house was situated and, hopefully, in a matter of a few hours, he’d be in
her grasp. At her mercy. And mercy was something that he wasn’t going to have.
She could still see those hateful green eyes, the
chestnut hair sweeping his shoulders. She wanted to place the noose around his
neck herself, yank it tight, spit in his eye, and pull the trapdoor lever. So
badly did she want it that her hands actually shook before she got herself
under control.
“Ready?” Belmos asked, meeting her in the corridor.
“More than ready.”
“Excellent. The others await us in the cargo bay.”
Walking quickly down the stairs, they met the other
hunters as he’d said. They were all waiting patiently.
“Right,” Cormac said. “The owner of the tavern is said
to be the lover of the pirate leader. We go there together, get the information
from her, and leave. I want as little trouble as possible, nothing to draw
attention to ourselves--”
Alen laughed softly.
“Apart from the obvious.” Cormac ignored him. “We go
in together, we leave together. Watch your backs, though I doubt we’ll have any
trouble. Walot’s on the outskirts of the Outlaw Sector, not the middle.”
“I can’t wait to rub this into Shaque.” Harld grinned.
“He wasn’t happy to be left behind in Kyros.”
“Nor was Abra,” Alen added.
“They have their orders.” Cormac flicked safety catch
off on his laser. “When Ricna contacted us with more news of pirates and
possibly Darcus, too, we couldn’t risk losing that trail. They’ll have
investigated it by the time we return. Now, are you all ready?”
“What if we run into trouble?” Harld asked. “We blast
our way out?”
“Need you ask?” Cormac palmed his laser. “Move out,
everyone.”
Sabra was grateful for the thick jacket she wore,
pulling the collar up against the chill breeze. Snowflakes floated slowly down,
softening the harsh outlines of the wooden and stone buildings lining the
single street, and hiding the dirt road which would quickly turn to mud once
the snow stopped.
Quickly they walked into Walot and towards the only
tavern. Truly, the place must be mighty poor to only have one tavern. But, she
saw, it was quite big. Double-storied with a staircase running up the side
wall. Lights shone out from the rooms above, piercing the gray gloom of the
cloud-laden sky.
They entered the tavern cautiously, their keen eyes
scanning the surroundings for any suspicious movements.
The patrons of the tavern were few, to be expected
with the uncertain weather conditions. They eyed the newcomers with hostility
upon recognizing the hunters for what they were. Above them, on the second
floor, a group of tavern whores watched in silence.
“Well, then,” a soft voice said. “To what do we owe
the pleasure of your company?”
Cormac studied the woman coming towards them, her
sleeveless gown a rich silk rather than the tattered cotton most of the women
in this poor settlement wore. Blonde hair was piled high atop her head and
fastened with glittering combs. The face was beautiful in a hard, knowing way.
“We wish to speak to you in private.”
“Private, you say?” she mused. “Are you sure you have
the right person?”
“Very sure.” Especially after seeing how she dressed.
She could only be the mistress of a highly-successful pirate. Darcus.
“I see. My name is Miklar. And you and your delightful
companions are bounty hunters. Even this pretty little girl.” She smiled, cold
gaze cutting to Sabra. “How unusual.”
Unfazed, used to the snide remarks sometimes thrown at
her, Sabra returned evenly, “A private place?”
Miklar glanced around the nearly empty barroom. “This
is as private as it’s going to get, dearie. So take a seat at the table here.”
She indicated the table in the middle of the room. “And let’s get down to
business.”
Not liking the situation, Sabra glanced at Cormac.
Stony-faced, he approached the table. A quick look around showed that the other
hunters were heading for various spots around the room, staying on-guard.
Taking a deep breath, she sat at the table opposite Miklar.
“So,” Miklar said. “What can I do for you?”
“We want information on Darcus,” Cormac replied.
“Darcus?” She raised a brow. “My, you are aiming
high.”
“Depends on your point of view.” Sabra folded her
arms. “Where is he?”
“What makes you think I’d know that?”
“You’re his mistress. You must know his whereabouts.”
Miklar laughed throatily. “You’d think so, wouldn’t
you? But I’m afraid I must disappoint you.”
“Oh?”
“I have absolutely no idea where he is.”
“I find that very hard to believe. Try again.”
The hard eyes narrowed. “Listen, child, I’ve already
told you. He doesn’t confide that much to me.”
Cormac settled back in the chair. “We can wait all
night for your answer, Miklar. It’s of no big rush to us, but your customers
won’t be welcome.”
“You’d kick them out?”
“Oh no, we couldn’t do that. They just won’t be able
to drink here.”
One arched brow rose in mock amusement. “And you think
that will make me talk?”
“One careless match and this whole place could go up
in smoke.”
“So now you’re threatening to burn me out? Somehow I
doubt that is legal.”
“Somehow I doubt anyone here--apart from you--will
care.”
“My customers will.”
“That’s your problem, not mine.”
The hunter and the tavern owner studied each other in
silence. Sabra waited, outwardly patient, inside a turmoil of impatience. She
wanted the damn information so they could get on their way.
Miklar smiled slightly. “Well, hunter, you can stop my
flow of ale and burn my place down, but it will make no difference.”
“You won’t talk, eh?”
“It’s not that so much as that I have nothing to say.”
“Nothing to say to us or in particular?” Sabra asked.
“Darcus didn’t become such a success by being stupid.
He keeps his plans close to his chest, has a tight mouth, and doesn’t even
drink when planning raids. That way no one knows what he’s up to and can ruin
it for him. That, my dear, is the truth.”
“He doesn’t talk to you? That I find hard to believe.”
“He trusts no one. Smart. Oh, be sure, I’ve tried to
get him to talk.” One shoulder shrugged elegantly. “A few slaps around soon
stopped that.”
Sabra’s jaw tightened. Darcus obviously hadn’t
changed, but she wasn’t sure that this woman was speaking the truth.
Nor was Cormac. Drawing his laser, he aimed high and
the crackle of the laser was accompanied by the crash of the chandelier onto
the floor.
Miklar’s mouth tightened. “You can shoot the whole
damned place up, hunter, I can’t tell you what I don’t know. His plans for the
future--who knows? The safe-house--”
“The safe-house,” he said silkily, “is what we want to
know about.”
“Then you should have said so.” She took a deep
breath. “But if I tell you that, will you leave the rest of my tavern standing?
And don’t tell him who told you.”
“Of course,” he replied blandly.
She eyed him dubiously. “The safe-house is three miles
south of the settlement. Follow the road out, take the left fork one mile from
the settlement, and keep going until you come to the hills. The safe-house is
built into the hill.”
“How convenient. Is there anything else I should
know?”
“That’s it.”
“Is he there now?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. As I’ve said before, he doesn’t
tell me much--or anyone.”
Leaning forward, his cold eyes raked her face. “If he
finds out we’re on our way, he’ll also find out who told me.”
“He won’t find out from me.”
“Or any of your friends, I trust? Or workers, slaves?”
“Or them.” Her smile was mocking. “Such a careful
man.”
Ignoring her, he got to his feet, Sabra following.
Miklar stood up and walked over to the staircase in
the middle of the room. Without a backward glance, she mounted it. Quickly.
Too quickly.
Suddenly uneasy, Sabra looked up at the second floor. All was quiet. Where
were the tavern whores that had been standing up there? Looking across at
Alen, she saw him shift position, no longer slouching against the bar but standing
upright. Belmos on the other side of the room had his headed tilted. Harld was
scanning the room sharply. So she wasn’t the only one to sense that something
wasn’t right, that something had gone wrong.
“Well, well. Bounty hunters. Looking for me?”
Terribly wrong.
She looked straight up the staircase and into mocking green eyes. The handsome
face was sardonic, framed by waving chestnut hair that brushed the
billowing-sleeved white shirt. The lean body was encased in tight black pants
and knee-high boots. A laser was aimed straight at her heart.
“Darcus,” she whispered.
“Don’t anybody move!” He barked out when the hunters
started for their weapons. “My crew have you all covered. Just look around if
you don’t believe me.”
They did, seeing the pirates appear from behind the
bar, through the side door, and above them on the balcony. The bar patrons
pulled out daggers, proof that they were pirates dressed in plain clothes.
“So it’s true. You missed me, my little Sabra.” His
smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If I’d known you’d grown into such a pretty
bit, I would have come looking for you.”
“Come down and face me.” Hatred boiled inside her, the
longing to slice his smile clean off his sneering face making her palms quiver
in anticipation.
“After all the trouble you went to searching for me,
I’m surprised that you don’t appear happy to see me.”
Cormac moved up beside her. “Our business is with you
only, Darcus.”
He laughed. “Is it now? And why is that? Let me
guess.” He pursed his lips. “Oh, I know! I killed your father!”
Her heart started to thunder. “This is between you and
me. Send your men away and the hunters will leave, too. Face me alone, you
bastard.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He smiled at Miklar as she
drew level with him. “I’d advise you to seek your room, my darling. Things are
going to get a little messy around here.”
Sabra looked at Cormac. Reflected in his eyes was the
knowledge she’d already concluded. Darcus did not mean to let them go alive.
“So, pirate.” Cormac returned his attention to the man
leaning gracefully against the banister. “Is this a showdown?”
“A showdown?” He burst out laughing and his crew
echoed him.
The bounty hunters watched warily, their nerves strung
taut yet steady. Waiting.
“Such a sense of humor!” Darcus wiped his eyes. “I could
have done with you in my crew, hunter. No, this isn’t a showdown.”
“Then what is it?” Sabra grated.
“It’s a slaughter.”
“With lasers? Stupid, don’t you think, knowing that
the blasts go straight through one person and into another? You’ll kill as many
of your own men as you will us.”
“Nobody said it was lasers, my pretty. We fight much
better with machetes and daggers, and all sorts of lovely little things. Don’t
we, lads?”
A rumble sounded from the pirates and more seemed to
pour into the room. With dismay Sabra saw that the hunters were outnumbered by
at least six to one. It was indeed going to be a slaughter.
“There seems to be no point in killing the others,
Darcus. Take me only. They are no threat--”
“Oh, come on! Even I know that these hunters will be
back if something happens to you. No, my dear, I’m afraid negotiations aren’t
going to work here. You have, to state it clearly, reached the end of the
line.”
“Then I see no point in waiting any longer,” Cormac
said calmly and in one lightening move, drew his laser.
The room exploded, pirates swarming towards the
hunters. Belmos managed to pull his laser in time, but the other hunters only
had time to fend off the first of the pirates.
Sabra drew her own laser and fired straight up at
Darcus, but he wasn’t there. Looking up, she saw that he’d disappeared back
into the shadows, and she started towards the stairs. Her way was blocked by
several leering pirates and she cut them down quickly, but no sooner had she
done so than more appeared to take their place.
A beefy hand came from the side, grabbing her wrist in
a crushing hold, and forcing her to drop the laser. A fist connected with her
jaw, then the sensation of something sharp and cold across her shoulder,
followed by a wet sensation. Blood. She’d been cut.
Furiously she rallied, swinging deadly chopping
motions through the air, catching one pirate in the throat with the side of her
palm, another in the eye. A third pirate’s nose she slammed up, breaking it and
forcing bone to jar up into his brain. Drawing a dagger from her boot top, she
slashed from side to side, cutting flesh, hearing curses and shrieks.
The room seemed to seethe with bodies. Tables broke,
chairs were flung. The laser fire stopped abruptly, but the fighting didn’t.
Seeing Cormac go down beneath three thugs, Sabra
whirled around and tried to slash a path through to him. With fleeting fear she
realized that she couldn’t see the other hunters, nor hear them. But she
couldn’t worry about that now, she had to get to Cormac, had to fight beside
him--
Suddenly her arms were grabbed on each side and she
was rushed backwards. Twisting, she was unable to break the brutal holds, and
glancing back over her shoulder, saw where they were aiming to take her. The
huge front barroom window loomed closer and closer and suddenly she was hoisted
up and thrown backwards through it.
It exploded around her but she was protected from the
shards by the thick jacket. Hitting the sidewalk, she ploughed down into the
snow. No sooner did she come to a stop than she sprang to her feet, swaying and
slightly disorientated, but determined to hurtle back into the fight.
“Don’t try it.”
She looked up to see Darcus
standing on the sidewalk, laser in hand.
“Your friends are dead, Sabra.”
“Nay--”
“They are. Dentil, throw them out into the snow. Let
her see.”
Numbly she watched as bodies were thrown haphazardly
out of the window to lie in broken heaps on the sidewalk. The blood running
down the bodies was already slowing, soaked up by the thick clothes and cooling
in the chill breeze.
Harld, Belmos. The others. And there--oh God. There
was Cormac at the bottom of the heap, his face covered in blood. Gaping cuts showed through the torn
jackets and shirts. Part of Belmos’s face was cleaved in.
Her stomach lurched, agony gripping her heart. She
looked up to meet mocking green eyes.
“Oh, does poor little Sabra cry? I like little girls
that cry.”
A cold hand clutched her heart. Those words, the
same he’d spoken to her all those years ago. After he’d killed Mother and
Father... “You bastard.” The words came out an agonized whisper.
Snow fluttered around her, the cold gray light heavy
with doom. Her breath came out in cold puffs. And then she moved fast.
Four
She hadn’t taken two leaps before the laser crackled
and her knee gave out beneath her, burning pain exploding from the shattered
kneecap. The cold snow puffed beneath her as she fell into it, landing on her
hands to brace herself. Gasping with the pain, the stench of her own burnt
flesh seared through her.
“Giving up so soon, hunter? Do you kneel before me
then, admitting that I have beaten you?”
The words echoed in her mind, pushing past the barrier
of pain to the discipline she’d learned from the bounty hunters. Her dead
friends. Time had taught her to never give up while she still breathed, to
never show the enemy you were down--or afraid. To do so was to give them
satisfaction. The jeers of the pirates resounded in her ears.
Taking a deep breath, and gritting her teeth, she
pushed upward awkwardly, hobbling on one leg, gaining balance with her arms
outstretched until she stood again to face him. Sweat ran icily down the side
of her face at the agonized effort. “You haven’t beaten me, scum. You will
never beat me.”
Darcus looked down at her. Regardless of the pain from
her wounded knee, she stood proud and full of hatred. It angered him. Where
was the fear? “Beg for your life, Daamen.”
“Screw you, you bastard!”
“Nasty. Let’s see just how tough you are, Sabra.”
The laser crackled once more and unable to move
quickly enough, she felt the burning in her side as the beam seared through her
jacket and shirt to gouge a sizzling trench across her lower ribs. Flinching
and staggering slightly, she desperately kept her attention focused on him as
she felt the blood welling against the inside of her jacket.
“Tough enough to take you on, Darcus,” she rasped.
Several pirates hooted, but most of them were eyeing
her speculatively. Bloodied and wounded, she was nevertheless a force to be
reckoned with. It was being proven already. She still stood, where others would
be lying on the ground.
“Is that so?” Darcus raised the laser and took slow,
deliberate aim. “How about matching sides?”
Even before the laser crackled, she knew what he meant
to do, the burning on her other side merely confirmation. Now she wavered and
swayed, but iron will kept her upright. She wouldn’t fall. Wouldn’t give him
the satisfaction. Blood was flowing now from her sides and knee. How long
she’d be able to remain standing was debatable. Not long, if she was to
continue to bleed like this.
“I’m going to kill you. I should have done it a long
time ago.”
“That’s what your mates said when I led them to the
gallows.” She swallowed against the nausea rising in her throat, and the agony
beating at her senses.
“That I should have killed you?”
“Some. Mostly they just begged like the scum they are.
Like you are.” Her eyes narrowed painfully. “Like you will when you face the
gallows.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “No gallows for me,
girlie. You’ll not live to see me swing.”
“Says who? I’ll be watching, wherever I am. Never
doubt that somewhere, somehow, I’ll get you, Darcus. Even death won’t stop me.”
A murmur swept through the pirates. Superstition ran
through their veins, a legacy of strange things they’d seen in their
wanderings, especially in the middle of the Outlaw Sector, and a jumble of
beliefs brought by each of them to their ships and crew-mates.
Hearing the uneasiness, Darcus’s eyes narrowed. He’d
teach this lot of superstitious fools that no one--especially a bounty hunter and
ex-victim of his--threatened him and lived to tell of it. “We’ll see about
that, Sabra.”
The laser blast caught her in the chest, flinging her
backwards several feet before dropping her into the snow. Lying on her back,
gasping, she stared up at the sky. A face filled her vision, dark in the waning
light.
“You’ll die soon, Sabra,” Darcus said
conversationally. “Loss of blood combined with cold are a good mix. I’m going
inside to enjoy a warm brew, then I’m off home. I’m afraid you’re going to have
to do this dying business alone.” Leaning down, he pressed a hand to her chest
and ground the heel of his palm against the wound cruelly.
She nearly blacked out as excruciating pain clawed at
her.
He laughed. “Any last wishes? Not that I promise to
grant them. Probably won’t, in fact.”
“How did you know we were coming?”
“Surprised you, did we?”
“We scanned the tavern before leaving the ship. You
weren’t there when we arrived.” She bit her lip against a wave of pain.
“We entered the settlement in time to see you disappear
into the tavern. Miklar, dear heart that she is, sent a message several hours
ago that you were coming. A lovely friend of hers from Kyros notified her of
your intent to seek me out. I just had to come and greet you.”
“How did you get in?” She coughed, a trickle of blood
staining one corner of her lips. “We did not see you.”
There was no threat in the woman knowing. Darcus eyed
her easily. She was dying. Let her die knowing he’d bested her. Again. “We
came under the tavern in a hidden tunnel, entered through the cellar door, went
up the back stairs, and came out on the balcony. Several of my crew waited
outside.”
“The patrons...”
“Were pirates, too. They were already in the
settlement awaiting my arrival for a very big assignment I have planned, and
agreed to await yours as well. So nice of them, don’t you think?”
Black dots danced before her eyes and she blinked them
away rapidly. “I will see you dead yet, Darcus. I swear it.”
He shrugged carelessly. “Goodbye, little girl. I’ll
remember you most fondly. We did have a good time together, didn’t we? But I
won.” His face sobered. “I always win, Sabra.”
Then he was gone. The sound of boots on the sidewalk,
the slamming of a door. Silence. The pirates were gone, retreating into the
tavern. Leaving her here to die.
After a vain attempt to lift her head, she raised her
hand gingerly to the wound in her chest, feeling the charred skin and blood
bubbling out hotly. She was going to die. This wound was more serious
than the others. This wound would kill her. Snow fluttered down, seeming to
tenderly caress her face before melting almost immediately to run down her
cheeks like tears. Wearily, her hand dropped to her side. Strength was fading
fast, disappearing with her life.
It was lonely, this dying. Somehow, even as a hunter facing ruthless
outlaws, she’d never thought she would die like this. And nearby were her poor,
dead friends. Murdered savagely. How could everything have gone so wrong so
quickly? How could it have all ended like this so swiftly, so brutally?
It was getting darker. And colder. The snow beneath
her was melting, wetness seeping through the thick jacket, icing her body. It
was so cold. Blinking, she peered up at the darkening sky. She wanted to
cry for her friends, for the futility of it all, but somehow she couldn’t. A
strange calmness had fallen over her and she thought how odd it was. Shouldn’t
she be frightened or something?
A cold wind traced across her cheek and she wondered
if it was Death’s icy touch. She didn’t know how long she lay there, only that
early evening was giving way to dusk and the snow was coming down faster, half
covering her bleeding body, and it was becoming harder to breathe... All
feeling had left her. No one came near her, no voices sounded on the street. It
was quiet. Even the noise from the tavern had abated.
She closed her eyes and when she finally opened them
again, it was to find a dark shape filling her vision, blocking out the weak
light that shone from the broken window of the tavern. Puffs of white came out
from the darkness of the hooded head. Death had come to claim her at last and
hazily she was aware that Death was big. Huge. He wore a heavy cloak and hood,
just the way she always thought he would. Crouched over her like the grim angel
of death he was. One big gloved hand reached out for her.
A surge of sudden, desperate strength allowed her to
reach up and grasp the thick wrist, feeling the slippery leather of his glove.
Holding his hand away from her, she whispered, “You cannot take me now, Death.
I have unfinished business.”
~ * ~
Clutching the cloak tighter about himself, Red
burrowed into the warmth of the hood and shivered. “Whose bloody bright idea
was it to go out in this weather?”
“‘Twas yours.” Simon’s voice was muffled in the folds
of his cloak.
“Only a brainless idiot like you would suggest this.”
Jase’s teeth chattered.
“Only a brainless idiot would comply,” Red returned.
“Only a brainless idiot wouldn’t talk me out of it. Nice bloody friends you lot
are!”
Snow melting icily in his beard, Shamon’s footsteps
quickened at the sight of the tavern lights ahead. “At last! A hot meal and
warm ale!”
“A nice plump wench.” Borga smiled dreamily. “With a
warm bosom and soft thighs and--”
“What’s that?” Heddam slowed his pace.
“What?”
“A pile of something on the sidewalk, in front of the
tavern. And is that window broken?”
The traders slowed their steps, growing more cautious.
“Must have been some fight,” Red remarked as they drew
closer.
“I’ll say.” Jase’s face grew grim in the shadows of
the hood over his head. “Those are bodies lying out there.”
Drawing closer, they were
able to make out the cold, dead features of one of them.
“‘Tis the one called Alen,” Shamon said.
“And Belmos.” Heddam grimaced. “Or what’s left of
him.”
The street was deserted. Snow flurried down more
urgently, becoming heavier.
“‘Tis the bounty hunters,” Simon stated. “I guess we’d
better check if any still live.”
“I doubt it.” Red glanced around warily. “Should be
safe enough, anyway. Whoever did this seems to have left.”
Approaching the bodies,
Reaching the bodies, he realized that it was too late.
Glazed eyes stared sightlessly up at the darkening sky. Dark, thick blood lay
in patches over ripped clothing and sat gruesomely at the jagged openings torn
into their bodies. Entrails spilled from a disemboweled body. The bodies didn’t
steam with newly spilled hot blood, but had cooled with death.
His heart started to thud heavily as he scanned the
faces of the corpses. “She’s not here.”
“Who?” Shamon wiped his pale face, swallowing the gore
rising in his throat.
“The wench. The female bounty hunter.”
“You’re right.” Jase straightened up from where he
squatted beside a body. “Do you think the outlaws who did this have her?”
“I hope not,” Red said grimly. “Mayhaps she got away?”
“Mayhaps she wasn’t here to start with,” Simon said
hopefully.
“‘Twill be hard to get someone willing to do that,”
Shamon remarked. “Especially here.”
“Pay enough dinnos and anyone will do anything here,”
Jase said in disgust.
“True enough. Let’s go inside and--where are you
going?”
“There’s someone lying out there.”
Following him into the street, the traders approached
a snow mound and saw a shape lying in it. Dark blood saturated the clothing and
marred the whiteness of the snow beneath the body. White powder had settled
lightly across the face, outlining the delicate features, and settling lightly
upon thick black lashes that lay like half-moons on her cheeks. Long hair lay
scattered wetly in the snow, a blonde streak amidst the brown.
“‘Tis her,” Simon said in a hushed voice.
“Poor little lass.” Red shook his head. “‘Twas no way
for a wench to live. And too young to die.”
“She should have been safe in the shelter of her
family,” Shamon said angrily. “Where the hell are they?”
“Not everyone thinks the way we do,” Simon reminded
him sadly.
Kneeling beside the still figure,
It was such a waste of life. What had made her live
such a hard life, to choose to hunt outlaws, to live with death, to deal out
justice in a harsh way? She could have wed, a pretty lass like her. She could
have had a happy home, a loving lifemate, children... Instead, she lay dead in
the street in a settlement on the outskirts of the Outlaw Sector. And no one
gave a damn. A victim of those she hunted.
Clenching his jaw, he told himself to get up, find an
undertaker, and see her decently buried. Mayhaps he could find her kinfolk. And
give them a hell of a beating for allowing her to live such a life.
Preparing to push upright, he glanced down once more
and froze. Had he imagined it or had her chest risen? Had she taken a
breath? Aye, there it was again! Shallow but unmistakable. “She lives!”
“What?” Simon hurried forward.
“The lass breathes.”
The long lashes lifted and pain-glazed eyes stared up
at him. One bloodied hand suddenly came up to clutch at his glove-covered
wrist, holding him weakly away, as she whispered brokenly, “You cannot take me
now, Death. I have unfinished business.”
~ * ~
There was a flurry of words then another shape appeared,
equally huge, cloaked darkly. One of his minions? Sabra couldn’t make
out the low, hurried words they shared.
“Lass, you’re coming with me.” The deep voice came
from the figure beside her.
“Nay. I--” Pain clawed at her, sudden and unexpected
and she coughed, feeling wetness bubble up in her mouth and spill out onto her
chin. Blood.
The gloved hand pulled gently away and something heavy
and warm was tucked around her. Death moved closer, she could feel his arms
sliding beneath her knees and back, and she was picked up easily and cradled
against his chest as he stood up. In the gloom she became aware of his minions,
hooded and cloaked against the cold and snow, gathering around to form a
formidable, protective circle. Of course they would guard the Angel of Death
and his captive.
“You can’t take me,” she whispered.
Her face was pressed gently into the shelter of his
shoulder, the heat of his body against her cheek. “You have no choice, lass.”
“You of all must understand.” Her eyelids felt so
heavy. She was so tired, so very tired. “I have killing to do. You can’t
take me now.”
“Little bounty hunter, your killing will have to
wait.” The deep voice was a gentle rumble in her ear.
It was the last thing she heard as blackness claimed
her for its own.
~ * ~
Seeing the blood bubbling out of the corner of her
mouth, and hearing the wet rattle with every breath she took, fear clutched at
“Then she’ll die for sure,” Shamon said. “The most we
can do is get her to a warm, safe place.”
Swinging around on his heel,
“Wait.” A shadow stepped out of the alley on his left.
Immediately the traders snapped to attention, hands
yanking lasers from the holsters strapped to their thighs. Was this friend or
foe? In a settlement like Walot, while no foe to the Daamens, it was sure to be
of a bounty hunter.
“Who goes there?” Jase snapped. “Step forward and be
identified!”
The cloaked figure stepped into the light cast through
the broken window of the tavern, and one hand shoved back the hood enough to
reveal a lined face. “I am no threat to any of you, but you have need of my
assistance if the woman is not to die.”
“Who are you?”
“Not all who pass through here are killers, trader.
Take yourself for instance. Now, do we waste time while she dies, or will you
permit me to attend to her?”
What if it was a trap?
“What if you waver too long and she dies because of
it?” The man chided more strongly. “Nations have fallen because of wasting time
on ‘what ifs’.”
“We have no choice.” Jase laid one hand on
“Very well.” He nodded brusquely. “Lead on, old man,
but if this is a trap--”
The man walked past them. “Let us go.”
Silently they followed him a short distance down the
street, every trader alert to danger, lasers held at the ready beneath the
folds of their cloaks.
The rattling breath the hunter took was loud in the
air but immediately whipped away by the wind that was blowing harder.
Stopping before a wooden hut, the man opened the door,
sweeping inside without another word. Lasers drawn, Borga and Simon entered
after him, their gazes scanning the single, large room for signs of a trap.
Seeing none, they gestured to
“We have visitors, Learta,” the elderly man said.
A robed figure rose from the stool before the fire, a
sheaf of papers in her hand. Turning, the heavily-veiled woman nodded politely
to the group, seemingly unfazed to see giants crowding the room, dripping snow
onto the wooden floor. Eyes as brilliant as the blue sky scrutinized them all
piercingly in one keen swoop before settling on the wrapped bundle in
“An injured woman.” The elderly man flung his cloak
onto a nearby chair.
Without a word, the woman called Learta stepped
forward and started to clear the table of the mugs and remnants of a meal. The
traders watched as she snapped a white cover over the table.
“Lay the woman here,” she instructed.
Still not sure that they were doing the right thing,
A choking cough reverted his attention back to the
wench on the table. Blood sprayed faintly as she arched up, coughing and
choking in the blood filling her lungs. Abruptly she ceased, falling back down
onto the table
Placing her hands one each side of her face, Learta
said softly, “The time is near. Metly, we must make haste. My kit.” She looked
at
Picking up the knife indicated on a nearby chair where
it had been placed,
Now they could see the hole near the sternum clearly,
from which blood bubbled and frothed to coat her chest. Bloodied trenches
seared the lower ribcage on each side. Crimson coated her knee and more oozed
out sluggishly. When he sliced the material of her pants, he saw the fine
fragments of shattered bone clinging to the burnt skin around her knee.
“The heart remains intact but the lung is damaged.
Metly, I need the powders now. The death rattle is nearly gone--the end is any
second. Quickly.” Learta placed one palm directly over the bleeding hole in the
hunter’s chest and closing her eyes, breathed deeply and evenly.
Placing the kit beside the table, Metly hurriedly
started mixing several powders in a small bowl.
Gathered uneasily in a corner, the traders watched the
process, their eyes going from the barely breathing figure on the table to
their friend standing beside her. Their attention was suddenly diverted,
switching to the robed woman as she suddenly began chanting softly,
melodiously, the words indistinguishable but haunting. The hairs on the backs
of their necks stood upright.
Swallowing, Red muttered, “This smacks of witchery.”
“I don’t give a vagrat’s arse about that,” Simon
returned. “This is bloody spooky.”
The chanting stopped and a sudden gasping made him
look up and inhale sharply with shock... Blood ran from beneath Learta’s veil,
frothing and bubbling, and the front of her robe--dear God, blood was
forming, coming through the thick material in a widening patch. In the area
of her lungs.
“Metly!”
“Do not worry,” the older man responded calmly. “Stay
quiet while she works.”
What the hell was going on? Head bowed, Learta’s
breathing was labored, each breath rattling loud in the stunned silence of the
room.
Looking down, he saw that she was barely breathing.
Delays of at least ten seconds were between every breath. She lay as though
already dead, still and silent, life seeming to have almost left, held back by
the merest thread... by Learta.
“The powders are ready,” Metly said loudly, making the
traders jump.
Opening her eyes, Learta wordlessly held out her hand
and Metly placed a thin vial in it. Tipping the vial up, she poured powder
forth in sparkling silver to fill the bleeding hole. Immediately a thin sliver
of steam started to arise, odorless at first, then as it swirled higher and
higher, there came a faint odor, not unpleasant but definite.
As suddenly as the presences were felt, they vanished.
Were they there at all? Had he simply imagined it? Glancing around, he
saw the confusion on the faces of his friends and knew they’d shared the same
experience.
A deep, ragged breath made him spin back to the table.
The bounty hunter was dragging in deep breaths, her eyes open, staring wildly
up at the ceiling. Her hands gripped the sides of the table as she tried to
push upright, arms straining.
“Easy, lass.” He reached quickly for her. “‘Tis all
right.”
“Rest, dovean.” Learta laid one hand on her
brow. “Rest without fear. You are among friends.”
Slowly she relaxed back
onto the table, her eyes closing. Her breaths became deep and even.
Learta gestured to Metly. “Hot water and cloths. We
need to clean the other wounds and assess the damage.”
“Is she all right?”
“Your woman is healing.”
“The chest wound, it has stopped bleeding.”
Astonished,
“The powder has stopped the bleeding and is assisting
to heal her lung.” She placed a self-adhesive patch over the wound before
turning her attention to the shattered knee. “Metly, the vargon powder.” Taking
it from the older man, she poured it into the wound and vapor rose. Placing a
thick pad over the gaping wound, she bandaged it securely. “Don’t remove this
for four days. After that, bathe it daily as you do the other wounds and
redress it.” With calm movements, Learta cleaned and smoothed self-adhesive
patches over the side wounds. “No ribs were damaged as well. Burnt flesh
mainly, shallow wounds but painful. You must see to the hunter’s care until she
is fully restored.” She placed a smaller patch on the minor cut marring her
shoulder.
“That is without question.”
“The wounds must heal of their own accord. These
patches will assist. You are familiar with them?”
“You couldn’t just heal her?” Simon asked curiously,
still awed. “With the power you have?”
“My gift is to assist.”
“But you saved her life.”
“All I did was fortify the most dangerous wound. It is
still the body’s role to completely heal itself.” Learta looked soberly at him.
“I am not God. She could still die.”
“You bled as she did. I don’t understand--”
“It’s not something easily explained, so don’t concern
yourself with it.” Dipping a cloth into the clean water Metly had refilled the
bowl with, she started to wipe the blood from the hunter’s chin and throat.
“You will take your woman home.”
“I don’t know where she lives,”
“She needs to go home.”
“If I knew where her home was--”
“You are going there.”
“You are returning to Daamen, aren’t you?”
“Aye.”
“So is she.”
Exasperated,
The blue eyes above the veil wrinkled in amusement.
“They are one and the same.”
“Jase, am I missing something in this conversation?”
“About as much as I am.”
“It’s really quite simple,” Learta said. “Look and you
will realize.”
Shocked, he stepped back. It couldn’t be! How could
it? How could this bounty hunter, this wench... it wasn’t possible!
Five
“
“It can’t be,” he muttered.
“What can’t be?” Red demanded and stepped forward.
It had to be a mistake. It had to be. The mark
couldn’t be what he thought it was.
“That mark--‘tis not possible!” Jase exclaimed from
behind him.
“Many of life’s mysteries are easily answered if you
look closely enough. This is one of the simplest.”
A movement made
She turned her head slightly, pressing her cheek into
the warm, hard palm. “
The traders surged forward
and saw the mark above her left breast. The mark they all knew well, the one
with which the wenches of their home-world were all born. The mark of a Daamen
female. As one their gazes fastened on the face of the bounty hunter and the
recognition hit them all.
“My God,” Jase whispered.
“She’s dead,” Simon said hoarsely. “‘Tis
inconceivable!”
“Lok’s daughter.” Red’s eyes widened. “But she died on
his ship!”
“Nay.” Shamon shook his head. “She was never found.
‘Twas presumed she’d died at the hands of pirates later.”
“Well, she didn’t.” Metly shouldered between the
giants to snap a cover briskly across the woman lying on the table. “And she
certainly is alive enough that you needn’t stare at her lying there half
naked!”
With varying degrees of shock and abashment, the
Daamens backed away, though they kept their gazes on her.
When she closed her eyes,
“She sleeps again,” Learta informed him. “Sleep is her
best ally now, it will assist in her healing. We’ll clean her up and you can
take her home.”
“‘Tis unbelievable.” Shaking his head, he straightened
up. “We thought she was dead. A massive search was mounted and went on for
several months. Finally all hope faded and knowing the ways of pirates, ‘twas
assumed she’d died at their hands.”
“Not all pirates are murderers.”
“Most are.”
“Surely there are some whom you know that are not?”
“What? Oh, aye. Sinya. You know him?”
“Very well.”
“One of a kind. But there are not many like him or his
crew. Besides, there was a rumor concerning the identity of the pirates who
attacked Lok’s ship. ‘Twas said it was Rark.”
“A killer, most certainly. But he does not live now.”
“Nay, he was killed. ‘Twas said by a young girl...”
“Many questions surround this woman, trader.” Learta
moved to stand on the opposite side of the table. “But there is a time and
place for it, and it’s not now. Her clothes are soaked through. Metly and I
will attend to her.”
“You are right.” Rousing himself,
“In the street?” Red’s brows rose.
“Aye. I’ll not risk carrying the lass through the cold
back to the landing bay.”
“Oh, of course. Let’s go.”
“Shamon, go with Borga and see if you can find the
grave-tender. Pay him whatever it takes to bury the bodies of the hunters.”
“On our way.”
“Hurry. I want to leave as soon as possible.”
“What if those who did this are still around?” Jase
queried. “We may need extra weapons--”
“They’ve left.” Learta didn’t look up from easing the
heavy jacket off her patient. “The weather has hastened their departure.”
“That and the threat of the law coming at any time,”
Metly added. “Outskirts or not, the law will come eventually. Too late for the
bounty hunters, though.”
“Where are the peacekeepers in this settlement?” Jase
asked.
“The last six were shot a week ago in an ambush. The
new ones arrive any time.”
“No. Sit by the fire with your friend and warm up.
Take your cloak with you and let the heat dry the blood on it.”
Silently
“I still find it hard to believe.” Jase held his hands
out to the fire. “After all this time, to find Sabra alive.”
“Aye, I know. I thought I knew her, back on Kyros. She
must have recognized me, too.”
“She spoke to you?”
“I bumped into her when returning the map. She called
me by name.”
“That was all? She didn’t tell you who she was?”
“She denied knowledge of me and I didn’t pursue it,
for I did not recognize her. There was just a familiarity.”
“‘Tis the oddest thing.” Jase shook his head. “How did
she end up running with a pack of bounty hunters, especially Cormac’s? Why
didn’t he notify the leaders of Daamen?”
“Mayhaps he didn’t know who she really was. There are
so many questions that need answering.”
“It’ll have to wait until she awakens.”
“Aye.”
They fell silent, the only sound that of Metly and
Learta talking quietly as they undressed and washed Sabra before wrapping her
in a warm blanket.
The door opened to emit Red amidst a heavy swirl of
snow.
“The ship’s here,” he announced. “We’re ready to go.”
“We have to wait for Shamon and Borga.”
“They’re already onboard, scanning the surroundings to
ensure our safety. They said to tell you the grave-tender’s dealing with the
bodies.”
“Excellent.”
Learta handed two long vials to him. “Clean the wounds
every day and pour this powder directly into them until they close over. This
will hasten the healing and prevent infection.”
Giving the items to Red,
“There is no need for gratitude,” Learta returned.
“But there is something you should be aware of.”
“Aye?”
“Her injuries run deep, more than the physical wounds.
I felt the pain inside her. The task she has set herself is not finished,
Daamen. Her life is not going to be easy, and in some ways, is going to get
harder.”
“We’ll help her,”
“Your culture has not been hers for a very long time.”
“She’s Daamen. We will take care of her.”
Learta gazed impassively at him for several seconds
before nodding. “I wish you a safe trip home.”
“You’re welcome on Daamen any time.”
They inclined their heads.
With a last nod,
Walking over to the fire, Learta sat down on the stool
and once more picked up the sheaf of papers she’d discarded onto the floor
nearby.
“You did very well,” Metly said approvingly.
She stared silently into the flames then, without
turning to look at him, stated softly, “There is one more. Find him.”
~ * ~
“Are you certain ‘tis her,
“As certain as the mark she bears. And there’s no
mistaking Sabra. I should have recognized her immediately.”
On the viscomm, his friend’s face showed the amazement
he himself had felt earlier. “But how?”
“We won’t know until she awakens, Darvk.”
“Her injuries are so serious. Does she appear any
better?”
“She sleeps peacefully as the empath foretold. All we
can do is wait and see. There’s certainly no one in this Sector that I’d trust
with her health. She runs no fever.”
“You’re right. Once you are near enough to a proper
medic, he can examine her.” Darvk shook his head suddenly. “I just can’t
believe ‘tis her! We searched so long and so far before finally giving up,
believing her dead. And now she is coming home. How long until you arrive?”
“Four weeks.”
“‘Tis too long--”
“I’m coming as fast as I can, friend.”
“I know.” Darvk smiled ruefully. “‘Tis just that it’s
been so long.”
“I’m taking good care of her.”
“To doubt that never crossed my mind. I’ll just have
to be patient.”
It was several more minutes before Darvk bid
Returning to the dining cabin,
Entering the cabin beside his, he walked across the
floor to the bunk and gazed down at the sleeping wench. A darkening bruise
dotted her small chin and a graze marred her cheek, both standing out on the
pallor of her skin. Beneath the cover, her chest rose and fell evenly,
attesting to the fact that she was in a healing sleep. Brown hair fell over
white shoulders and lay upon the pillow. The blonde patch caught his eye. How
many times had he teased her in the past--the very long past--about it?
Sudden emotion caused a lump to rise in his throat as
distant memories started to make themselves known again. Little Sabra following
him around, Sabra climbing on his horse when he wasn’t looking and galloping
off, leaving him behind swearing and yelling threats--mostly because he’d
feared she would break her fool neck. Picking up the little wench and dusting
her off when she fell over in her hurry to keep up with her cousin and his
friends. Binding a bleeding knee and carrying her home after yet another
attempt at beating the boys in their games.
The last time he’d seen her--he closed his eyes--she’d
been standing near the docking bay, a little figure of eleven summers dressed
in the customary white tunic of a young Daamen lass, watching mournfully as
Darvk’s crew prepared to leave, he in their midst. Darvk had fondly ruffled her
hair, he’d teasingly chucked her beneath the chin, and they’d both grinned as
she’d scowled mightily at them before flouncing off, tears of anger and mutiny
sparkling in her eyes at being unable to accompany them. However, the thirst of
adventure and trading had consumed them and they’d left with light hearts,
never suspecting they’d not see her again.
Until now.
What horrors had she seen and experienced? His gaze softened. She’d not know them anymore.
“You’re going home, lass.”
~ * ~
“The bodies of the hunters were taken by the
grave-tender,” Miklar said. “Someone paid him.”
“Who?”
“A stranger. A real giant, he reckons. That’s all he
knows.” She curled up close to her lover’s naked body. “You know what these
people are like out here. They’ll do anything for a few dinnos.”
Linking his hands behind his head, Darcus studied the
ceiling lazily. “True. Never mind, better that those bastards are beneath the
ground than stinking above. Still, it would have been entertaining to hang them
up for the carrion-eaters. Give the new peacekeepers a little welcome.”
She pressed a kiss to his chest. “Never mind about
them now. It’s over. How about worrying about me?”
“I have been neglecting you, haven’t I?” He grinned
and groped lewdly at her breast. “Seems I must make amends.”
But even as he kissed her, his thoughts strayed to the
female bounty hunter. Shame she was dead. He could still remember the feel of
her beneath him all those years ago, hear her crying, feel her struggling. The
tightness... Even now the memory inflamed his senses. Maybe he should have
kept her alive for a while. Chained to his bed, she would have provided some
sport. To be truthful, he’d never really forgotten her over all those years. He
had unfinished business with her... but it was too late now. She was lifeless
and buried beneath six feet of cold dirt.
Roughly he grabbed Miklar, ignoring her startled
protest. But even as he pushed her to the bed beneath him, it wasn’t her face
he saw, but a frightened young Daamen’s.
~ * ~
Burning pain. Cool water on his parched lips. Soft
hands tending him.
“Easy, mi debar. You will make it bleed more.”
There was something he had to do. Urgent. Someone
needed him.
“Come, mi debar. Drink this. You will rest.”
No, he couldn’t rest. He was needed.
Then he knew no more, slipping into the abyss of deep
sleep.
~ * ~
Heart pounding and gasping for breath, the crackle of
a laser resounding in her ears, Sabra jerked upright. Darcus! The pirate was
shooting at her!
Launching herself forward, her feet hit the floor and
she stumbled, tried to regain her balance, and fell heavily to the floor.
Nay! She had to get up, had to get to the cursed
pirate before he finished her off!
But she couldn’t get her legs to move. They were curled uselessly beneath her
and her arms felt heavy, as though they were made of lead. Her chest hurt, as
though she’d already been shot... and her sides throbbed, her knee--
There was a thump and she looked around as a door
opened and looked up... and up... and up... into a dangerously handsome face
framed by wild, cascading curls. The giant looked straight down at her and
within seconds was at her side.
“Sabra!” The giant knelt down on one knee and reached
out.
“Stay back!”
“Easy lass--”
This wasn’t the settlement. This was a cabin. What was
going on? Her senses swimming, she
tried to move away from the man, and suddenly became aware of the coolness of
the floor beneath her. She was naked. Fighting panic, she tried to cover her
breasts with one arm, drawing her knees to her chest in a futile attempt to
protect herself from the dark eyes studying her closely. He was too big to
fight and hope to win. Nausea rose up unexpectedly, the floor pitching before
her eyes.
Catching her as she toppled into him, the giant lifted
her easily into his arms. “Back into the bunk, lass. You’re in no state to be
out of it.”
His features were blurred. “Who are you?”
“Don’t you recognize me, lass?”
A pirate? That was wrong, he was no pirate. Too big,
too dangerous looking, when she knew how gentle he really could be--stars
above... She focused on the face
hovering above her as he laid her on the bunk. “
“Aye, lass, ‘tis I.”
“How did...” she couldn’t get her thoughts in order
and tried again. “Where am... Cormac and the others...” She was so tired. Oblivion
pulled at her and with a small sigh, she surrendered.
Gently
~ * ~
“Where is that miserable bastard?”
“Take it easy, Darcus. His ship is running late.”
“If the miser put his money into making it operable
and reliable instead of wasting it on women, he wouldn’t be late.” Swearing,
the pirate peered up into the sky. “If he’s any later, this meeting will go on
without him.”
A pirate captain looked up coolly. “Your jitters make
me wonder what is on your mind that’s so important.”
“And if it makes you jittery, how safe is it for us?”
a second pirate captain added.
Darcus swung around, his cold gaze sliding across the
hard faces of the pirate captains sitting in Miklar’s parlor. “You all know I
wouldn’t lead any of you astray.”
“I’d make you walk the ramp in space if you did,”
another pirate drawled.
“The failure of this plan would mean my death as well,
Veknor, so you can be sure, the prize is well worth the effort.”
“Effort?” a scarred pirate queried. “How much effort
are we talking about?”
“A battle.” Darcus grinned, his eyes glittering. “A
battle with the stakes as high as they can go.”
“How high?” Picking up a mug of ale, Veknor took a
sip.
“Let’s just say that the galaxy could be ours.”
The pirates exchanged glances.
“Is that so?” The scarred pirate scratched his bald
pate. “And how are we to accomplish this mammoth task?”
“All will be revealed as soon as Larsh arrives.”
Darcus returned his gaze to the skies once more. “Once he does, all the main
pirate captains will be present and this meeting can start.”
The pirates looked once more at each other. Some spoke
in low tones to their companions, but Veknor merely lounged back in his chair,
a thoughtful expression on his ebony face as he studied the chestnut-haired
pirate standing before the window. He didn’t totally trust him. For years he
thought him as ruthless as his father, Rark, had been, but he had proven to be
even more ruthless. Cruelty ran in his veins like mercury, strong and deadly,
settling upon those whom he wanted to vanquish, and nothing and no one stood in
his way. That was what Veknor didn’t like about Darcus. He was loyal to no one
but himself. This was dangerous in a man who needed other pirates to carry out
a plan. And the plan was what Veknor wanted to hear. What did Darcus want so
badly? Badly enough that he was willing to share the rewards with others?
The dark pirate studied Darcus closely over the rim of
his mug, making no attempt to hide it when the other man turned around and met
his gaze. Instead, he raised one brow in mild query.
Darcus smiled but no humor glowed in his green eyes.
~ * ~
Voices talking quietly, footsteps, the sound of
laughter in the distance. Her chest hurt and she touched it gingerly. Tiredly.
It was so much effort.
“Easy, lass.” A deep voice sounded from far away.
Her eyelids were so heavy, she couldn’t lift them. But
so thirsty, so very thirsty. “Please... water.”
Vaguely she registered something slide behind her
back, raising her up, then cool liquid touched her lips and eagerly she opened
her mouth and swallowed.
~ * ~
“This is your plan?” Veknor placed the mug of ale
carefully onto the scratched surface of the table.
“Impossible!” Larsh snapped.
“It’s very possible.” Darcus lounged easily back in
his chair. “I have the contacts.”
“And if this succeeds?” Veknor inquired. “Then what?”
“We rule over it all, of course.”
“With you as our mighty king, I suppose?” Larsh
sneered. “No democracy there, eh?”
“I take it you’re not really agreeable to this plan?”
Darcus looked at him.
“You take it right!” Larsh got to his feet. “You’re
totally insane to even think such a thing! Take on those most powerful? You’re
out of your mind!”
Veknor watched the chestnut-haired pirate closely.
Yes, Darcus might be bordering on the insane, who knew? His plan was insanity,
but it could work. Maybe. But only with the full backing of every pirate in the
Outlaw Sector--and everywhere else. Whether he was willing to play a part in
the whole thing remained to be seen, however. He hadn’t become wealthy by being
stupid. No, first he intended to see just who was going to back Darcus up.
Obviously Larch wasn’t.
“If you’re not with me--” Darcus began.
“--then I’m against you.” Larsh sneered. “What an old
saying!”
“Are you against me?”
“In an idea as suicidal as this? Yes.” Larsh turned
and started for the door. “You’re mad!”
A small smile curved the thin lips of the pirate as he
pulled the trigger of the laser beneath the table.
Larsh was thrown forward, his face smashing into the
door frame. He bounced back, spun around, and slid to the floor, a stunned
expression on his dead face.
“So, who else is against me?” Darcus asked easily,
holstering the smoking laser.
The pirate captains eyed him uneasily.
“It’s all very well to kill those who don’t agree,”
Veknor drawled. “But can you kill us all?”
Darcus looked around narrowly. “That depends. Do you
all disagree?”
“You can’t kill us all,” Veknor repeated.
“True. But I need captains I can rely upon to follow
me into battle.”
“I thought there wasn’t going to be a battle,” an
older pirate stated.
“Not at first. Getting in will be easy. The battle
will be once they realize who is in their midst.”
“Then it will be too late to back out--for any of us.”
“And that includes me.” Clenching his fist, Darcus
raised it high. “But that is when battle is the sweetest. Victory is close at
hand, everything in the galaxy can be ours--”
“It won’t be that easy,” Veknor pointed out calmly.
“There will be individual wars, you know. They won’t give in that easily.”
“Of course not, but we’ll still have the upper hand.
Once we are in place, we recruit from the Outlaw Sector. Many of them will be
standing by. I have some in my employ already.”
“So why do you need us?” the older pirate asked.
“Because no one is as good as a pirate. No one is as
ruthless. We will rule once we have won. There will be no doubt of that.”
The pirates muttered amongst themselves.
“This was not my idea alone, you know.”
They looked up, their attention caught.
“Rark, my dear father, often talked about it. We spent
many hours talking, in fact. I am merely organizing and putting into place
those very plans we discussed.”
“Rark is dead,” a thin, dark captain said.
“But I am alive. The plans are in place. My contacts
await with information. Everything is ready, my fellow pirates. You have only
to agree for it all to start.” He cast burning green eyes around the wary men.
“One simple word. One yes. Are we together in this? Will we rule side by side?”
“What’s in it for us?” the pirate returned. “You will
obviously rule. What will we have?”
A cruel smile crept onto his face. “Whatever you want,
lads. Wenches, land, castles. Countries. Planets. Name it, and it will be
yours.”
He had them now, Veknor could see. The greed shone in
their eyes. This, their biggest battle, would bring them all that they desired.
“Yes.”
The word was echoed.
“Then a drink, lads, to bind our promise. A drink to
ruling the galaxy!” Darcus roared out, raising his hand.
The ale spilled from his mug, splashing onto the
tabletop. Like the blood of those to die, Veknor thought. We have
placed our futures in the hands of a madman.
Six
The snow blew coldly, swirling around the heavy cloaks
and tracing icy trails down the grim cheeks of the hard-eyed men in the
graveyard. They watched silently as the last corpse was dragged from the grave
and laid beside the others.
“Belmos.”
“Two are still missing,” Ricna stated grimly.
Shaque’s cold eyes pinned the grave attendant to the
spot with chilling accuracy. “Another man and a woman.”
“These were the only ones I was charged with burying,”
he whined. “Paid, I was.”
“By whom?”
“I told you, I don’t know. The dinnos were given to
me, but the storm was so heavy by then and they were in a hurry. Didn’t come
in, just paid and left.”
“What were they dressed in?”
“Heavy cloaks with hoods. All I can tell you is that
they were huge.”
Shaque’s jaw tightened. “Did they have a woman with
them?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t--awk!” Sweat slid down his
face as he found himself eye-to-eye with a razor sharp skinning knife.
“You’d better tell me the truth, vermin, or you’ll be
joining my friends here.”
“It’s the truth!” the graveyard attendant babbled.
“That’s all I know, honest to God!”
“I doubt you know anything of honesty or God.”
“He speaks the truth,” Abra said heavily. Snow settled
on his mohawk, unnoticed by him, and trickled down inside his cloak. “But you
know who did this, don’t you?”
“No, I--”
“Knife him.”
“No! He’ll kill me if I tell you, he’ll--”
“We’ll kill you if you don’t,” Ricna cut in harshly.
“Slowly and more painfully. Strangling from a noose is one idea that springs to
mind--and a personal favorite.”
Shaking, the man whispered something.
“Speak up.”
“I said the pirates did it!”
The bounty hunters exchanged glances before fixing
their menacing stares on the man.
“Who was the captain?” Shaque hissed.
“Darcus--only don’t tell anyone I told you so!”
The hunters could have been carved from granite, they
stood so still. The snow blew with more force, sending powdery white scurrying
across the corpses on the ground.
“Bury them again.” Abra reached into the pocket of his
cloak and withdrew a pouch, tossing it to the graveyard attendant. “Place a
marble marker here.”
“With their names on it?” The man was eager to please,
fear of the hunters making him shiver.
“Fool. No. Their corpses would be dug up and hung from
the nearest tree. We will return one day to take them home. Until then,” Abra
turned on his heel, “You are charged with ensuring their safety.”
“M-me?”
A steel glance speared him. “We will return one day.
If our friends aren’t here, you’ll fill their grave.”
Cringing, he watched the three bounty hunters stride
away into the gathering dusk. If he didn’t keep himself out of circulation,
he’d be lucky to live another week. If Darcus ever found out... He shuddered.
He didn’t know who was worse, the hunters or the pirate, but by God, neither
was better than the other, that much he knew.
Tucking the pouch into his pocket, he started the
chore of heaving frozen bodies back into the mass grave.
“Word needs to be sent out,” Abra said. “Shaque, send
out a coded message to every hunting pack we know of. Ricna, call in the services
of Creed and Falyon with their packs. We’re going to tear this settlement apart
until someone admits to seeing something.”
“If they know nothing--”
“Then we burn the settlement to the ground as warning
to those who say nothing.”
“And I will torch the first building,” Shaque promised
in a deadly tone.
They walked into the dusk, cloaks swirling behind
them, giving them the appearance of giant birds of prey.
And to the watching inhabitants of the now nearly
deserted tavern, that was what they appeared to be.
~ * ~
Hazily she watched the spoon draw near, smelling the
broth that filled it. Finely shredded bits of something floated in it.
“Open your mouth, Sabra.”
The voice rumbled in her ear, and she tried to pull
away from the warm body she was leaning against.
“‘Twill do you good, lass.”
“Nay...”
“You haven’t eaten for four days, since we found you.
This will help strengthen your body.”
She tried to push away but the hold around her
shoulders didn’t ease. The spoon drew nearer and she glanced up, unable to make
out the blurred face of whomever was trying to force the food on her.
“Eat.”
The thought made her stomach heave.
“Eat.” The coaxing tone grew firmer. “I won’t let you
die.”
Die? Nay, she couldn’t die. There was something she
had to do, a sense of both sadness
and rage spurred on by urgency.
“Sabra--”
Reaching out, she weakly grasped the thick wrist and
brought the spoon to her lips.
~ * ~
“Is she conscious at all?”
“Depends what you mean by that, Red.”
“Well, she hardly responds to us and in between...”
“She sleeps.”
“It’s been two weeks,
Silence. Not make it? Panic beat with weak, frail wings and she struggled
to open her eyes. “Am I... dying?”
“Sabra--”
“I won’t die.” Reaching out blindly, she felt her hand
engulfed in a warm hold. “Don’t let me die.”
“I won’t.”
“I can’t die. I must do something first.”
“What’s that, lass?”
“I must kill him.”
The grip on her hand tightened. “‘Tis all right, lass,
don’t fret over who did this to you. We’ll find him.”
“Nay. He’s... my prey.” She drew a ragged breath. “I
will... spill... his blood.”
“Rest, Sabra. Conserve your energy.”
~ * ~
Two sleek black ships swooped low over the settlement
before landing, one at each end of the wide street. In the middle stood a third
ship, the flurrying snow covering it adding to the eerie, unusually silent
atmosphere.
“They’re here,” Abra said grimly.
Shaque stopped twirling the daggers around his fingers
and expertly sheathed them in the tops of his boots with lightening speed.
Tossing the polishing rag aside, Ricna straightened
and reholstered the laser at his thigh.
Both packs had come complete, Abra noted, watching the
men spilling from the ships, twelve from each. Twenty-four bounty hunters,
twenty-seven counting Shaque, Ricna and himself.
The settlers, quaking behind broken shutters and
closed windows, caught glimpses of the hunters--their heavy cloaks and jackets
threatening, their dark shapes against the white snow. They shivered at the
sound of bullwhips unfurling and cracking. Hunter’s voices rumbled menacingly.
Abra stepped forward to greet the two pack leaders.
“We’re here,” Creed snarled, gold tooth glinting.
“How do you wish us to start?” Falyon rumbled, hefting
the manblaster in one massive fist.
“Tear this settlement apart,” Abra replied.
Nightfall was greeted by fire and smoke from burning
buildings, the darkness pierced by screams, laser blasts, and whips cracking.
When the sun finally rose, the three ships were gone, leaving behind ten outlaw
bodies twisting lifelessly on the ends of ropes and shattered settlers
scrabbling for shelter in the smoldering ruins of what was once their homes.
In the rubble of her tavern, Miklar lay dead, her
throat slit.
~ * ~
Something woke her and slowly she became aware of the
sound of children laughing.
“Vulya, give me that!” A woman’s voice, low and husky,
filled with amusement.
“He’s a little demon, Tenia. Obviously takes after
you.”
“Thank you, Darvk. Would you like to sleep elsewhere
tonight?”
“Only if you come with me, sweetheart!”
Darvk. Sabra
sat up quickly, her senses spinning at the unexpected movement. Darvk? ‘Twas
not possible... Steadying her head with one hand, she glanced around the
room. White stone walls with cheerful paintings, colorful rugs on the floor, a
heavy wooden armchair with a gaily patterned cover and cushions. Cotton
curtains at the window billowed gently in a breeze.
Her heart started to thud and a tingling spread down
her spine. It couldn’t be... Her disbelieving gaze alighted on a photo
image on the wall and her breath caught. Dear God, she couldn’t be here. Not
here of all the places in the universe!
Throwing back the bedcover, she lurched unsteadily to
her feet, only to have her knees buckle beneath her. Grabbing the bedpost, she
leaned against it, resting her forehead on the smooth wood. Her hands felt
clammy, and she wiped them on the delicate nightgown covering her even as she
closed her eyes briefly and whispered a silent prayer, something she hadn’t
done in a very long time.
“Nay, nay, please God, not here! Don’t let me be
here!”
Opening her eyes, she fastened her gaze upon the
window through which the smell of lilis blossoms drifted, a scent she had not
smelled for many years but immediately bombarding her senses with memories,
sharp and painful.
It had to be a trick, a cruel mind game played on her
by Darcus. Aye, that had to be it. Just a mind game. And she’d prove it.
She had to prove it.
Ignoring the biting pain in her knee, she made her way
to the window, using the wall to keep upright. She hadn’t realized how weak she
was.
Reaching out a shaking hand, she gripped the curtain
and yanked it back to see across the wide road a double-storied, stone house
with graceful pillars. Flowers abounded in the front and several children
played nearby. Little lasses in white knee-length tunics and boys in sleeveless
tops and long pants.
“‘Tis just an illusion,” she whispered.
A deep voice made her lean forward to glance down into
the front yard outside, and she saw him. Tall, heavily muscled with thick black
hair tied back, and a rakishly handsome face. So familiar. A little older,
wiser mayhaps, but unmistakable. He lifted a boy of about five years of age and
swung him around in the air before holding him close. Attention suddenly
caught, he glanced up.
Sabra froze as brilliant blue eyes met hers unerringly
and she dropped the curtain with a gasp, her heart pounding. “Darvk! Oh God,
I’m really here!”
Voices sounded loudly downstairs and another answered,
too close for comfort. Footsteps approached rapidly and Sabra could do nothing
but watch the open door as a tall, curvaceous woman entered, violet eyes
finding her unerringly, concern etched immediately across the beautiful face.
She wore the ankle-length, flowing gown fastened at the shoulders by thin
straps that all Daamen women wore.
“Sabra--”
“Don’t come near me!” She held up one hand shakily.
The woman strode across the room without hesitation.
“Are you all right?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said--”
“I heard. I also know you’re about to fall any
second.” A strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up with ease. “I’ll
help you return to bed.”
“I don’t want to go to bed! I need to leave, to--”
“Sabra?”
She glanced across the room, catching her breath as
she met vivid blue eyes. Darvk. Her cousin. Joy was etched clearly on
his face, the flashing smile so welcoming.
He crossed the room in several rapid strides, gathering her easily into
his embrace before she could protest, and hugging her close. For several
seconds he couldn’t speak, closing his eyes as unexpected tears pricked at them.
“My God, Sabra! I never thought to see you alive again!”
She’d never thought so, either. In fact, she’d been
careful to avoid it. But now she was here, in his embrace, and a vague sense of
familiarity came seeping back into her. Yet he was a stranger to her in many
ways. Once they’d been so close... Before.
Becoming aware of her stiffness, Darvk pulled back to
gaze searchingly down into her face. “Lass? What’s wrong? Is it your injuries?”
“Nay, I...” she began hoarsely, then stopped.
Injuries? With swift clarity, Sabra realized that she was standing. Aye,
her knee throbbed but she was standing upright. Impossible, the laser fire had
shattered it; she shouldn’t be able to walk yet. Glancing down at her
knee, she saw only a scar. “Impossible.” Then she touched her chest, expecting
to feel a thick bandage. There was none, just another scar. She didn’t have to
feel her sides to know that the burns from the laser were healed.
Tenia noted the perplexity on her face. “
An empath?
She had a vague recollection of someone leaning over her. Someone and--
“
“‘Twould be better to hear the explanation from him,”
Darvk said. “He found you in the snow, mortally wounded. By all accounts, you
should be dead.”
“Aye, I should be.” Darcus had never meant for her to
live. But he’d made a mistake in not finishing her off, one he would pay for
next time they met. There was no time to waste. Her eyes met Darvk’s for the
first time. “How long have I been here?”
“Several days--”
“To get here?”
“Four weeks.”
She pushed away from him. “I have to leave. What ships
are scheduled to go?”
“Pardon?” Bewildered, Darvk switched his gaze from her
to his wife. “Tenia, what--”
A frown marred her smooth brow as she watched the
smaller woman’s swaying limp towards the bed. “I don’t know. Mayhaps you’d like
to explain, Sabra?”
The throbbing of her knee started to crawl up her
thigh. “I have to go. That’s all that needs to be said.”
“Go?”
“Aye. If I can borrow some clothes, I’ll be leaving.”
“Just a minute, lass.” Darvk strode across to her
side, reaching out to steady her as she teetered against the bedpost. “Where do
you have to go in such a hurry?”
“To find the one who did this to me.” She clenched her
teeth as the room pitched.
“You know him? Tell me his name and I’ll have him
hunted down and returned for punishment. You’re not leaving now, not when I’ve
just found you.”
For the first time she met his gaze. “I can’t stay
here.”
“Of course you can. Our home is your home--”
“Not here, Darvk.”
For a second he was puzzled, then his face cleared.
“Of course. I understand you may wish to return to your family home and it can
be arranged, but for now ‘til not--”
“You don’t understand. I can’t stay here on Daamen.”
Silence filled the room as they looked at each other.
Tenia thoughtfully twirled her golden braid as she studied this long lost
cousin of Darvk’s. The wench was an enigma. Certainly not delighted to be
here and seemingly not happy to be back amongst kinfolk. What had gone on in
this young wench’s life? She had a pretty good idea, from the little
Taking a step back, Darvk regarded Sabra closely.
“What is this talk?”
“‘Tis very simple. I myself will hunt the one who did
this to me.”
“What?”
“Don’t look so appalled. ‘Tis what I do, what I am.”
Knees starting to shake, she held onto the bedpost with one hand, willing the
despised weakness away.
“Sabra, you don’t seriously think--”
“I don’t need you.”
The disappointment on Darvk’s face cut into Tenia. To
see the hurt clouding his eyes was almost more than she could endure. Stepping
forward, she said firmly, “You’re still weak, Sabra. Strength is what you need
to regain.”
“Strength will come as I travel--”
“You have no idea, do you?”
“Of what?” She gazed fully at Tenia for the first
time, seeing the protectiveness in the hand she placed upon her husband’s
shoulder.
“Of how frail you’ve grown from your injuries.”
“Aye.” Darvk absently laid his hand over Tenia’s.
“Your wounds may be healed, but you’re nowhere near well enough to leave.” Ever,
he added silently.
Her small chin tightening, Sabra let go of the
bedpost, intending to stride across to the door. Instead, pain shot through her
knee and she stumbled.
Swiftly Darvk caught her and lifted her onto the bed.
“And there’s the proof.”
Nausea rose to the fore and she bit her lip against
it, closing her eyes until the pain ebbed away, leaving her drained and panting
slightly. Lifting her lids, she found two faces leaning over her, one
concerned, the other unreadable with one golden brow arched thoughtfully.
“Better?” Darvk asked.
“Aye,” she croaked. “But I still mean to leave.”
“You’d better concentrate on being able to walk
properly first,” Tenia advised. “You won’t survive out there unless you have
full strength back.”
Knowing she spoke the truth, Sabra gritted her teeth.
“Aye.”
“So you’ll stay here,” Darvk stated.
There was no choice about that. A faint feeling of
panic tapped at her.
Straightening up, Darvk smiled faintly down at her,
though his eyes were troubled. “Besides, it’ll give us a chance to get to know
each other again.”
The panic dug into her but she managed to hide it. Or
thought she had until her gaze switched to see the speculation on Tenia’s face.
“There is really naught to know,” she whispered
through suddenly dry lips.
“You left a child, were believed to be dead, then
turned up mortally wounded in a settlement on the edge of the Outlaw Sector
eight years later. I’m informed that you’re now a bounty hunter. There is much
to know.” Soberly, Darvk brushed back a lock of hair from her temple before
stepping back. “Later we will talk.”
“We’ll leave you to rest,” Tenia said. “Your bathroom
is through that door. Make yourself at home. As Darvk said, our home is your
home.”
She watched them leave the room. Talk? This
time panic clawed at her. She was trapped here, on her home planet.
The one place she’d prayed to be on that long ago,
pain-filled night.
The last place she wanted to be now.
~ * ~
“She needs me,” he whispered, leaning back wearily
against the wall.
“You do not know where she is, mi debar.”
“I will find her.”
“Death has left you alone this time. If you attempt to
hurry the healing, Death will return.”
Despair filled him. Was she out there somewhere,
hurting, praying for deliverance? Waiting for him to rescue her? After all
these years, would he finally fail her?
“You worry, mi debar. Try to relax.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t know if she’s alive or
dead.”
“News travels slowly at times. News of her kind...
well, who knows?”
“I need to know.” Fiercely he clenched his fist and
tried to rise, only to fall back weakly in the chair.
“When you are better. Rest now.”
“There is no time to rest, don’t you see?”
“This is not the time to move. You need your strength.
Come, eat.”
Taking the spoon in a shaking hand, he brought the
stew to his mouth and ate. Yes, he needed his strength. He had to find her.
Would find her. Dead or alive, he had to know which she was.
The scarred face twisted into a grimace as she watched
him. Yes, he would get better. His will to live was strong. His need to find
the one he sought pushed him onwards. Approvingly, she nodded. The grimace
grew more pronounced, only the man across from her recognizing it as a grim
parody of a smile.
~ * ~
“He is dangerous, Veknor, no?”
“That he is.”
“It cannot be allowed to continue.” The milk-white
face turned to the ebony pirate. “What have you found out?”
“Darcus has men infiltrating the Lawful Sector.”
“And these men are all outlaws? Pirates?”
“So he claims.”
“Hmm.”
Veknor watched the pink eyes widen then narrow in
thought, the thin vertical pupils dilating. Crossing his arms leisurely, he
leaned sideways against the wall and waited patiently.
It was, he mused, impossible to know what the Overlord
was thinking.
“Veknor, I want you to find out how many of the
pirates are involved.”
“Most of them, except for those loyal to you.”
“And the common outlaws?”
“Yet to find out.”
“Then do so. Now. And report back to me immediately.”
With a bow, the pirate left.
~ * ~
Tenia watched Darvk pace the room.
“I don’t understand what is wrong with the lass.”
“We can only guess what she has been through. Give her
time.”
“Time?” He turned and looked worriedly at her. “She’s
determined to leave. I can’t allow it.”
“Not allow it?” Tenia raised one brow. “How do you
propose to stop her?”
“Any way I can. I can’t lose her again.”
“Ah, my love, don’t look so tortured.” Rising from the
bed, she walked over to him and cupped his face in her hands, kissing him
softly on the lips. “There’s much to learn about your cousin and time is on
your side. It’ll take awhile to regain her health.”
“I thought she was dead.” Wrapping his arms around
her, he drew her close to bury his face in the crook of her neck, breathing
deeply of the familiar jasmine scent that clung so enticingly to her. “I
remember when we found my uncle’s ship, the dead bodies. Her mother, my Aunt
Shera...” He shuddered.
Remembering the bodies of her sister warriors during
the outlaw years, Tenia hugged him fiercely. Aye, she knew what that felt like.
“We searched for Sabra for months but there was no
word of her. Now, to find her alive, I can’t just let her go. Not when we
failed her then.”
“You never failed her, Darvk. Whatever happened, we
will find out. But never blame yourself. Never.”
“Ah, lass.” He pressed a kiss onto her shoulder. “You
give me such comfort.”
“Is that all?”
At the teasing tone, Darvk straightened to meet her
gaze. He saw the shadow of concern for him in the violet depths, but is was the
unconditional love that touched him, as it always did.
“You were expecting something else?” he returned with
tender banter.
Long lashes swept down coyly. “I’m a good wench,
trader. Don’t suggest I hinted otherwise.”
“You’re a wicked warrior woman and have totally
corrupted me.”
“I never!”
“I can prove it.” His hands slid down to cup her
rounded derriere.
“Can you now?”
“Aye. I will show you what you taught me.”
“I taught you?”
“Have you forgotten already?”
“I forget nothing, trader,” she purred into his ear,
slipping the leather vest from his shoulders to lie discarded on the floor.
“Mayhaps I’ll demonstrate what you taught me.”
“Oooh, that sounds naughty.”
“You show me yours.” She nipped his chin wickedly
before gazing up at him out of smoldering eyes. “And I’ll show you mine.”
“Your what?” he returned breathlessly.
“Oh, well then, if you don’t know, mayhaps I won’t
corrupt you after all.” Turning on her heel, she sashayed across to the bed.
“Goodnight and sweet dreams, my innocent trader.”
A low rumble of laughter reached her ears just before
a heavy body bore her to the mattress, pinning her there with the ease of long
practice.
“Little witch!”
“Now ‘tis all right, Darvk. Don’t feel pressured to
prove yourself--”
“I’ll give you proof, lass, and wipe that little smirk
off your luscious mouth while I’m at it.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Oh aye. And I keep my promises.”
It wasn’t long before the laughter turned to soft
moans.
~ * ~
Sitting on the window seat, Sabra felt the cool breeze
sift through her damp hair, and debated her next step. The shower had refreshed
her, clearing away some of the lethargy and leaving her more focused. Common
sense made her acknowledge that she was not fit enough to leave yet. Her
reflection in the mirror had mildly shocked her, the dark shadows beneath her
eyes making them appear larger than ever, her skin and lips pale. She’d lost
weight, too, as well as muscle tone.
How close had she been to death? Very close. The
empath... how had she healed her? Shaking
her head, she knew the answers would have to come from
The timer on the wall showed the hour to be late, just
past
By the time she reached the last step, her knee was
burning and her chest was aching dully. Ignoring it, she looked down the
darkened hall.
Seven
“Dim light,” she whispered, and immediately a soft
glow flooded the hall.
Glancing around, her eyes fell on the nearest door. Unless
things had changed, she held a distant memory that a study resided there.
Limping over to the door, she swung it open and found her memory proven
correct. The moonlight picked out the outline of a viscomm on a wide desk.
“Light off in hall, on in study.”
The hall went dark while the study glowed softly.
Crossing to the desk, she eased herself onto the chair
and switched on the screen of the viscomm. Once it flickered to life, she
started touching the screen. Within seconds she’d established a link on a
prohibited connection.
~ * ~
Bringing up the screen, Shaque perused it, frowning.
Someone was tapping into their private data bank. But who? The frequency
required a secret code, one of which only his pack was aware. “Abra?”
The other hunter glanced up inquiringly. “You found
the possible whereabouts of Darcus?”
“No. Did you?”
“What?”
“Have you been trying to establish contact with
anyone?”
“No. Why?”
“Because someone is attempting to contact us on our
link.”
“Impossible.” Abra stood up and crossed over to the
table. “We’re the only ones who know the code.”
“So we thought.” Shaque tapped away at the keyboard.
“Can you find out who is using it?”
“Should be able to. Whoever it is has to use their
iris pattern, so it’s just a matter of tracing the genetic code...” He reared
back suddenly. “Bloody hell!”
“Who is it?” Abra leaned closer, scanning the
scrolling writing and figures.
“It’s not possible!” Shaking his head, though his gaze
was suddenly eager, he touched the screen and immediately a cobalt patterned circle
appeared in the corner. “Oh God, it is! It’s her!”
All color left Abra’s face as a symbol materialized
beneath the pattern. “The mark of a Daamen woman. It’s Sabra!”
They stared at the screen. It was her. The cobalt
iris, her symbol which served as part of her code. She was alive.
“When did she tap into this?”
“Right now.” Shaque touched the screen rapidly, making
the pattern and symbol smaller, and bringing up a galaxy map. “And unless she
tries to hide it, I can find out where the transmission is coming from and lock
onto it.”
The hunters waited tensely as the computer assimilated
the information, tracing the frequency, timing it and narrowing the location.
They watched as the Lawful Sector filled the screen and a green circle
surrounded a cluster of planets. It flashed, growing smaller to encompass one
particular planet.
“Daamen,” Shaque breathed. “Of course!”
“How could we have not thought of contacting them?”
Abra slapped his hand against his brow. “The traders were at Walot around the
same time!”
“Somehow they must have found her, saved her.”
They continued to watch as the circle zeroed in on a
section of the planet. It hovered, then settled.
“There,” Shaque said softly.
“Return the contact.”
The circle pulsated.
~ * ~
Sabra almost cried at the sight of the blonde hunter.
“Shaque!”
“Sabra! Thank God you’re alive!”
“Abra! You two made it!”
“Ricna’s here too, girl.” Abra let out a whoosh of
air. “We’ve been frantic, searching for you. When you weren’t found in the
grave--”
“Grave?”
Shaque frowned. “Sorry, Sabra. It would appear that
your Daamen friends had the rest of the pack buried. It was the Daamen traders
that found you, wasn’t it?”
“Aye.” Her shoulders sagged. “Belmos and the others,
they’re all dead. It was a trap set by Darcus. I’m so sorry...”
“It’s not your fault,” Abra stated quietly. “Don’t
blame yourself. Every hunter knows the risks. Is Cormac all right, too?”
“Cormac? What do you mean? He’s dead.”
The hunters glanced at each other before returning
their gazes to her.
“He wasn’t in the grave with the others,” Shaque said.
“But I saw him beneath the rest of the pack. The blood
and cuts. He was dead, I know he was.” Her eyes grew shadowed. “You don’t think
Darcus took his body as a trophy, do you?”
“It’s possible.” Shaque’s face darkened. “Anything’s
possible with that bastard.”
“Are you all right?” Abra asked gently.
“I’m fine. A few nicks here and there.”
“I’d say you’re lucky to be alive, going from what
we’ve heard. Seems the traders saved your life.”
“Aye, well.” She drew a deep breath. “I mean to join
you soon.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll come for you.”
“I’ll get a craft and meet you--”
“From the looks of you, girl, you won’t be doing any
traveling for a while,” Abra returned bluntly. “You’re white as a ghost and
have lost a heap of weight. To put it mildly, you appear as though you’ve just
beaten death by a hair’s breadth.”
“I’m not that bad.” She attempted a laugh.
“I’m not convinced of that.”
“I’m not that frail that I can’t hunt for that
bastard, Abra. I’m going to kill him with my bare hands. He killed Cormac and
Harld and...” Her voice wobbled and she stopped, swallowing hard, her eyes
blurring.
“I know, girl.” Abra’s voice gentled. “And you’ll have
the opportunity, I swear to you. But you need to regain your strength. You’re
no use to anyone, least of all yourself, in your condition at the moment. Take
the chance to recuperate and by the time we arrive, you’ll be in a better state
to continue with the hunt.”
“I can’t stay here, not here. Shaque, you understand.
I can’t--”
The blonde hunter’s heart went out to the friend he
regarded as a sister, but his tone was firm. “There’s no choice, Sabra. You’re
far from being well, and at least we know you’re safe while you’re there. Your
kinfolk will take good care of you--”
“But I don’t want them to,” she said desperately.
“Please, Shaque, don’t make me. I’ll meet you. I can do it, I--”
“Sabra, listen to me.” Abra fixed her with a stern
eye. “We know you don’t want to be there, but what has happened, has happened,
and can’t be changed. As a hunter and a member of our pack, it’s your duty to
regain your strength. Do so while you’re there, and we will come with all
speed.”
She bit her lip, seeing the sense in his words.
Wringing her hands together out of sight beneath the table, she tried to regain
control of her rioting emotions. “How--how far away are you?”
“Six weeks--”
“Six weeks! Nay, Abra--!”
“Six weeks in which you will regain your health and be
ready to continue the hunt to bring our friends’ killer to justice. Darcus has
already won if you try to face him, weak and sick. Do this for Cormac, Sabra,
if not for yourself.”
“And for us,” Shaque added.
They were right. Deep inside herself, she knew it.
Wiping a trembling hand across her face, she took a deep breath and met their
concerned gazes on the screen. “All right.”
Abra’s harsh face creased into a smile. “It’s good to
see you again, girl. You’ve no idea what we went through, thinking of you in
Darcus’s clutches. To know you’re safe, well, it does my old heart wonders.”
“We missed you,” Shaque added.
“Really?” She wiped a stray tear away and cleared her
throat. “Missed getting me up early just for your own perverted amusement, I
suppose.”
“Among other things.” He chuckled warmly. “Creed and
Falyon will be relieved to hear of your safety.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’ve been assisting us in our search.”
“You called in their help?”
“You didn’t think we were going to rest until we found
you, did you?”
Shame swept through her. “Oh, Shaque, and here I am
giving you grief over staying here until you come, and you both went to so much
trouble--”
“Oh, no trouble. Burnt a few settlements in the Outlaw
Sector, hung quite a few outlaws and did some gentlemanly persuasions. That’s
all.”
She laughed without thinking about it then quickly
shushed, glancing over her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Abra asked sharply.
“Nothing. ‘Tis just... no one knows I’m in here and
I’d rather it stay so.”
“We’d better let you go back to bed. You look tired,
girl. Get some sleep.”
Wistfully, she touched the screen. “I’ll talk to you
both later, all right?”
“Probably not straight away, as we’re preparing to go
through the Sentarin Belt. We have to stop communications or the energy belt
will cut through our viscomm and destroy it. But as soon as we’re clear, we’ll
contact you.”
“All right.” She smiled. “Take care.”
“We will, girl.”
“You take care of yourself,” Shaque ordered.
“Aye- aye, boss.”
“Smart arse,” he returned affectionately.
They gazed at each other for a minute, then Shaque
smiled and reached forward, touching the screen. It flickered and went blank.
~ * ~
Relief washed through her. They were safe! Some of
her friends lived and were coming for her. Feeling suddenly drained, Sabra
stood up carefully, wincing as her knee immediately protested with a sharp
stab. Nay, she couldn’t go to bed just yet. Fresh air was what she needed now,
to clear the turmoil from her mind. Turning off the viscomm, she made her way
out of the study.
She was breathing heavily by the time she swung the
front door open and stepped outside into the fresh air. The cool breeze swept
welcomingly across her face and with relief she leaned against the door frame.
She was weaker than she’d realized. Her stubborn pride sometimes made her do
stupid things. Cormac had always warned her about such things and normally she
was careful... Tears pricked her eyes at the thought. Cormac.
He was dead. And the others. The only family she’d
known all these years.
Darcus was going to pay.
Swallowing the tears, refusing to give into them, she
limped painfully over to the swing seat and sat down. The throbbing of her knee
was relieved only slightly by the removal of her weight on it. The lilis scent
was all around her now, mixed with jasmine and other fragrant aromas. Her
mother had always smelled of the lilis blossom.
“Damn,” she muttered. “I can’t think about that, I
can’t!” Now was not the time. She had to keep her attention focused on Darcus,
to get better and hunt him down like the murderous bastard he was.
All these years she’d kept her focus on him, not
allowing herself to think of anything else, much less her home planet. That
life was behind her and she’d never meant to set foot on it again. But now here
she was. Home.
While the one she hunted and hated with all her soul
roamed freely about the universe, causing death and destruction, destroying
everything in his path. Nay, she had to find him. Would find him. Don’t
think of this place. Don’t think of home.
But it was easier thought than done.
Drained, emotionally and physically exhausted, she
leaned back into the corner of the swing and closed her eyes, the scent of
lilis teasing her senses.
~ * ~
The first thing to capture
“Sabra?” He stepped forward, gently laying his hand
upon one shoulder.
Murmuring in her sleep, she shifted.
“Come on, lass. You shouldn’t be out here.”
Thick lashes lifted slowly, her cobalt blue eyes
disorientated with sleep. “Shaque?”
“Nay, lass. ‘Tis
“
He caught her as she floundered, automatically
swinging her up into his arms.
“Put me down. I can walk.”
“I can feel your trembling. You’re too--”
“I know what I can and can’t do. Now put me down.”
“Does Darvk know you’re out here?” Ignoring her order,
he walked through the open door and into the house.
“Nay, but I do,” Tenia said, descending the staircase.
“I was just coming to awaken her. How are you this morn, Sabra?”
“Better.”
“Good. Take her into the kitchen,
“I can walk.”
“You are as bad as Dana.” Tenia followed them into the
kitchen, skirting around
“I walked.” Sabra watched
She knew who the tall woman was, of course. Every
bounty hunter did. One of the leaders of the Reeka Warrior Women, a race now
living on Comll in the Reeka settlement. The other leader was her older sister,
Reya. Both now wed to Daamens and living on Daamen, traveling regularly to
Comll to oversee things in the Reeka settlement.
The bane of Cormac and his hunters’ lives when they
had been outlaws.
“If you have any questions,” amusement sounded in the
husky tones, “you only have to ask.”
“I think I know all I need to.”
“Is that so? How fortunate.” Tenia placed a plate of
diced fruit before Sabra. “The same can’t be said for us.”
“Aye,” Darvk agreed from the doorway. “There are many
questions that need answering.”
Sabra cast him a fleeting glance.
“Good morn, cousin.” Darvk sat down beside
“Better.” She placed a slice of apple in her mouth and
chewed slowly.
Placing another plate loaded with food before Darvk,
Tenia ruffled his hair gently before placing a third plate before
“Why?”
“Mayhaps you should ask that of her.”
Sabra met Darvk’s eyes squarely. “I needed fresh air.”
“I see. You should have woken us, we’d have assisted
you.”
“I did it myself, so, you see, I’m not so helpless.”
Chewing a slice of bread,
Darvk voiced his friend’s thoughts. “You’re not happy
to be here.”
“I’ll be leaving.”
“To hunt this man. I understand your feelings, but why
not remain here in safety and resume your life, leaving this criminal to us?”
“I don’t belong here.”
“You’re Daamen. You have every right--”
“Right, aye. The right to leave.”
Pushing his plate away, Darvk leveled a steady look
upon her. “I don’t follow your reasoning, lass. Mayhaps you should tell me what
has happened to you in the last eight years, and I’ll understand more.”
This was it. He wanted to know, they all did. She
could feel the questions burning in all their minds, the need for an
explanation. The need to know. For the first time since she’d sat down, she met
the dark gaze of the man sitting opposite her. The same queries were reflected
in his eyes.
How much to tell them? Glancing around the table, encountering the intense
concentration focused on her, she felt a sudden sensation of suffocation, of
the power being taken from her hands and placed in the males of Daamen if she
wasn’t careful. Her right for revenge being transferred to another. Nay,
she decided, tell them only enough to satisfy their curiosity. Power was
knowledge and that she had.
Picking up the glass of cold berry juice, she took
several long swallows and returned the glass to the table. “As my bloodkin,
aye, I acknowledge that you have the right to know some of what happened to me.
Would you prefer the story straight or ask questions?”
“You tell the story.”
“‘Tis short, really. Father’s ship was attacked by
pirates, everyone was killed, and I was taken. I can see that ‘tis not enough
information for you, though. Ask what you will and the answers will be what you
need to know.”
“All right,” he replied quietly. “Where did the
pirates attack?”
“Two weeks away from Daamen. I know that because I
remember Mother saying ‘twould be that long before we returned home.”
“Aye, ‘twas in the Lawful Sector, which surprised us
all. Pirates don’t normally attack so far in.”
“But these pirates were different. They were after the
fortune in gems that Father carried in the cargo hold. The merchant who’d paid
for us to carry it to another planet had leaked the information out. Word
travels fast when it involves such a fortune.”
“We never knew that.”
“You do now.”
“We did hear that the pirate was Rark,”
“Correct.”
“So he gained entry to the ship. What happened?”
“He murdered most of the traders. Setya came to our
cabin to lead us to safety but was shot before we could get out. The laser fire
burned through him and hit my mother, killing her also. ‘Twas a blessing.”
Darvk’s eyes studied her
intently.
“Trust me, I speak the truth. Next question.”
“Lok. Your father.”
“How did he die? I never saw it happen, but I know
how. He was beheaded. His head was thrown at my feet.”
“I’m so sorry, lass. ‘Tis something a child should
never have to see.” But she had seen it, there was no getting away from that.
“You said most of the traders had been killed. What about the survivors?”
“I was brought to the dining cabin. Amongst the
survivors was Breton and Vetna. I remember them because Breton pleaded for my
life and safety, and Vetna... well, he was always so kind to me.” For a moment
she was caught up in memories both bitter and sweet, then she shook her head
decisively. “Anyway, they and the others were shot when the pirate’s son got
hold of me. I fainted and when I awoke, I was on the pirate spaceship.”
“Rark’s?”
“A vicious, heartless, murdering bastard.”
“How long were you with the pirates?”
“Not long.” It had felt like an eternity. “One night.”
There was another question she knew they wanted to
ask, but it was one that she chose not to bring up right now. She could see the
question burning in her cousin’s eyes, but knew he could not bring himself to
ask such a private question. Yet.
“So how did you get away?” He broke the silence. “One
small lass amongst a spaceship full of pirates?”
She gave a humorless laugh. “Oh, I was no heroine.
‘Tis a little difficult to sneak away when you’re chained up.”
“They chained you? A little lass?”
“Pirates aren’t known to be considerate to their
prisoners. Nay, ‘twas the bounty hunters who saved me. They attacked the ship
in the early hours of morn, breaching the hold quickly while the pirates were
resting, so sure of themselves and drunk on their takings. Being caught by
surprise, many of them were killed where they lay. He was after Rark and
nothing would stop him.”
“Cormac?”
“Correct. Apparently they were badly outnumbered, the
surprise attack having killed half of the pirates. The remaining pirates fled
in a shuttle, Rark and Darcus among them. Whilst searching the ship, the
hunters found me.”
“Thank God.”
“Aye.” Sabra stared down sightlessly at her hands for
several seconds before looking expressionlessly at Darvk.
He realized that she was waiting for him to continue.
“The hunters didn’t bring you back to us.”
“I refused to go.”
“You didn’t want to come home?”
“Nay. Besides, Cormac didn’t know at first that I was
Daamen. ‘Twas a week later that he finally found out.”
“He should have returned you then.”
“He intended to once I was ready, but that time never
came. The longer I was away, the more determined I became to gain my own
revenge, and that’s something Cormac understands. He stopped pushing for me to
go home and let me make up my own mind. I chose to stay with the hunters.”
“You were still a Daamen and should have been returned
to us.” Darvk frowned darkly.
“Do you wish to argue this or have you more
questions?”
He had to know the rest of the story. “How did you
convince Cormac to allow you to stay with him?”
“Be assured, at first he was determined to leave me
behind. On the way to his home, the hunters patched me up in their rough way
and debated my future. It was decided to allow me time to heal at his home and
take it from there. But as my body healed, my determination grew. And I had a
fondness for Cormac. After all, he’d saved me. He and his hunters. In their own
way, they were kind to me. I knew they were planning to leave again and snuck
aboard the hunter’s ship. They stopped that afternoon in a settlement and,
still undiscovered, I followed them, waiting outside as they went into a
tavern. Within minutes a fight broke out, erupting into the street. The hunters
appeared to be winning until several men stepped from the shadows and started
firing lasers into their midst. I didn’t think once about my next actions.
Being behind the firing men gave me an advantage and I ran forward to jerk the
laser from one of them. He was so shocked to see me. One of the others swung
around, aiming for me. I can still remember Cormac yelling at me to run, to get
away. I did neither. I recognized the man, you see. I recognized the pirate.”
Her eyes hardened. “‘Twas Rark. I calmly raised the laser and shot him. Killed
him instantly. Before he’d hit the ground, I shot the others. By the time
Cormac reached me, I’d killed all five pirates and was swinging the laser
around to fire on the others, but the hunters had them under guard already.”
“All five,” she corrected. “I was after more, but they
were to be hung. I looked up at Cormac and said, ‘I’m going to kill Darcus.
With or without you, I’ll kill him and the others, too. Everyone one of those
bastards that murdered my parents and friends.’ He gazed at me for several
seconds, looked from the laser to the dead pirates, then he turned to the other
hunters and said quietly, ‘We have another pack member. Lessons begin
immediately.’ From that day onward, I never left their sides.”
“You mean you became a hunter from then on? At your
tender age?”
“At first they kept me out of the firing line,
drilling me constantly in fighting, shooting, knifing and bullwhipping. They
taught me how to operate the bounty hunters spaceship, read the galaxy maps,
know the many different customs. Until I was fourteen, I was kept safe in the
ship on hunting expeditions, keeping track of the hunters through the scanners
and communicating with them via communication links on their surroundings and
the whereabouts of their prey. Once I turned fourteen, I accompanied them on
the hunts. I’ve been with them ever since.”
“Did you have no yearning to come home?” Tenia asked.
“At first, but that soon faded. Once I killed Rark, I
knew my destiny. Every time I caught one of his pirates, my confirmation in my
choice strengthened. Every time I pulled a lever and watched one of those
bastards drop through the trapdoor, I felt a little bit more of me return. What
they took from me, I get a little back every time one of them dies. It isn’t
finished yet.”
“This chapter of your life is over now, Sabra,” Darvk
stated with quiet conviction. “Give me the name of the remaining pirates, if
you know them, and the Daamen leaders will see that a warrant is put out for
them.”
“Nay.”
“Nay, you don’t know their names or nay,” he eyed her
shrewdly, “You won’t give them?”
“The second. This is my fight, these pirates are my
kill.” Especially one. The one who took my childhood. “I’ll not give up
my right.”
“The right to their deaths is yours, lass, no one says
otherwise. But we care for our Daamen lasses--”
“I am no longer a Daamen.”
“You bear the mark, Sabra,”
Her hand tightened around the glass. “My home has been
with Cormac for many years.”
Eight
“Who’s now dead,” Darvk reminded her gently. “So that
no longer applies, does it?”
Her shoulders straightened. “There are other hunters
I’ll join.”
“So you see, as soon as I’m well enough, I’m leaving.”
Carefully Sabra stood up, bracing one hand on the table. “I thank you for your
concern but ‘tis unnecessary.”
“Sabra--”
Tenia laid her hand upon Darvk’s arm, stilling him
when he made to rise. “I think it advisable that she rest, my love. This is the
first time she’s been up since she was shot.
“I need no assis--”
“My pleasure.”
Leaning on him was far preferable to being carried,
and the chance to leave Darvk’s presence was wise, especially seeing the
darkening of his eyes. Laying her hand lightly on the strong arm, she allowed
herself to be led from the room, casting Tenia a fleeting glance as she did so.
Was it her imagination, or had there been understanding in the warrior
woman’s eyes?
They climbed the stairs slowly,
“Are you so surprised?”
“Disappointed, I would say.”
For some unfathomable reason, his answer hurt. “Should
I apologize?” She turned to face him, slightly disconcerted to find him so
near, then chided herself, for he had walked right beside her, hadn’t he?
“Nay.” He looked down at her, gaze skimming her face.
“You didn’t tell us everything, did you?”
“Ask if you think I kept anything back.”
Lifting his hand, he touched her cheek gently. “I
always remember you as a child, always in trouble, full of laughter--”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Aye, ‘twas.” Sighing, he stepped back and bestowed a
small smile upon her. “I’ll see you later, after you have rested.”
She watched him leave, then slumped wearily onto the
bed. Retelling the story had drained her more than she knew, remembering what
had happened. Darker memories ate at the edges of her mind but, with practiced
restraint, she leashed them and confined them to the deep depths from which
they sometimes threatened to spill.
Lying down, she closed her eyes and drifted off to a
sleep plagued by nightmares.
~ * ~
“Is he in
position?”
“He has an audience with the chief of security at this
very moment.”
“Good, good!” Briskly rubbing his hands, Darcus threw
himself down into his chair and thumped the map on the tabletop. “And what of
Saalm?”
“They are more reserved, tending to hire only their
own. I don’t think that will change.”
“Stubborn morons. Never mind. Argon?”
“Same.”
Darcus’s lips twisted.
“Orkra, however, are considering an outsider as chief
of security.”
“Excellent!” He beamed. “Anyone else?”
“Reports are still to arrive, but it seems that ten of
the thirty we sent out are establishing themselves.”
“Hah! It won’t be long and they will be in places of
trust--or near places of assassination.” The pirate smiled. “I have yet to
choose which planet I shall rule, but Argon holds extreme possibilities.”
His henchman didn’t respond.
“What of you, Ridly? Have you decided on a country?”
No planet, Ridly noticed. Just a country. “Not yet.”
“Ah well, there will be time to choose. Now then.”
Darcus swung his legs up onto the edge of the table and crossed his ankles.
“Bring me some ale. I vow, this taking over of the Lawful Sector is thirsty
work!”
~ * ~
“Mother!” Darvk stepped forward to greet the woman
entering the room.
“Son.” She hugged him. “I came as quickly as I could.
Where is she?”
“Sitting in the sun out back. Come, I’ll take you to
her.”
Sarrah hesitated. “Mayhaps I should see her myself.
I’ve heard that she’s not overly pleased at being here.”
“Ah.” He glanced over her shoulder to his wife, who
had followed close behind them. “Tenia has filled you in?”
“Aye. Worrisome to be sure, but then,” Sarrah sent her
daughter-by-marriage a fond smile, “Tenia explained a little of how Sabra might
feel, so I guess ‘tis understandable.”
“You heard the story of how she was taken?”
“I heard it all. Now, two glasses of berry juice, my
boy. I have a long-lost niece to see.”
Minutes later, walking down the hall with the frosty
glasses on a tray, Sarrah took a deep breath. Her niece, the daughter of her
sister. After all this time. What did she look like? she wondered for the
hundredth time since receiving the news several days ago. Like her beloved
sister, Shera, or her father, Lok? She would soon know.
Stepping out onto the verandah, she spotted her
instantly. Sabra was sitting on the steps watching Vulya running around the
back garden with his little sister, Sharrie. They squealed in glee, chasing the
golden winged flyers.
Sarrah just stood there for several seconds, before
clearing her throat. “Thirsty, lass?”
Sabra glanced over her shoulder, then froze, her eyes
wide. She stumbled to her feet, shock mirrored on her face at the sight of the
blonde, pretty woman. “Mother?”
“Oh, my dear, nay!” Hurriedly placing the tray on the
nearby table, Sarrah reached out one hand. “‘Tis I, your Aunt Sarrah.”
Blinking, Sabra
ran one trembling hand across her mouth. Of course... Mother was dead. This
identical, older version was Shera’s twin sister. “Sweet mercy,” she muttered,
feeling slightly sick.
“Here, sit down.” Grasping her hand, Sarrah led her up
the steps to one of the chairs at the table. “I’m so sorry, lass. How
thoughtless of me. I didn’t think--the likeness. How stupid of me!” Pressing a
glass into her niece’s hand, she took the chair opposite and watched her in
concern. “You’re so pale. Are you all right? Shall I get Darvk--”
“Nay.” Sabra took a quick swallow of the juice. “Nay,
I’m fine. ‘Twas just--you gave me a start, is all.”
“Aye, well, I’m sorry.” Sarrah relaxed a little and
gave a small smile. “I must admit to the same when I heard that you were here.”
Sabra steeled herself against the little stab of pain
upon first seeing her Aunt and allowed her gaze to wander over her face. Aye,
she was the spitting image of Mother. Would she have aged like this,
gracefully, becoming a little plump, a touch of grey in the blonde hair piled
high in a most flattering way? Possibly, the sisters had been very alike.
In turn, Sarrah scrutinized her niece. Taller than
herself, she’d noted immediately. Thinner than she should be, though no doubt
that was due to her injuries--and near death. She shuddered inwardly. But
Shera’s classical features were undeniably stamped on Sabra’s face, though the
eyes were wholly Lok’s. No one could mistake that startling cobalt blue. Just
as no one could mistake the blonde streak in the glossy brown tresses, now
pulled tightly back in a severe bun.
“Are you here to tell me how much I’ve changed, and
how I should stay?”
So, this was how it was going to be. “Would it make any difference if I was?”
“Nay.”
“Well then, seems to me to be a waste of time, doesn’t
it?”
“Coming to see me?”
“Nay. Trying to dissuade you.”
They looked at each other for several minutes in silence,
yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, which surprised them both.
“I heard what happened to you.”
“Ah. And?”
“I’m sorry.” Sarrah shook her head. “How insignificant
those words are. If only we had found you, we might have saved you from the
harsh life you’ve led. You’d have been safe on Daamen with us.”
“I gave up on the ‘if onlys’ a long time ago.”
She nodded sadly. “Nothing comes of wishing for what
can’t be, yet it doesn’t stop us wishing different.” Sarrah hesitated, dropping
her gaze.
Instinctively Sabra knew she was trying to raise a
subject she feared awkward. “Ask what you will. ‘Tis better to do so.”
“I don’t wish to upset you.”
“I think I can handle whatever it is.”
“Very well.” She took a deep breath. “Shera, your
mother... was it quick?” She stopped, blinking back a tear. “Don’t answer that
if it upsets you.”
“It doesn’t. Aye, ‘twas quick. She never felt a
thing.” Sabra ignored the pang that she’d thought long buried with time.
“Good. I always
wondered... I just had to know.” Sarrah wiped a stray tear away, returning her
gaze to her niece. “You’ve no idea what we went through when the ship was
found. So many dead. You were gone.” Reaching across, she placed her hand over
Sabra’s. “Now you’re back. I thank God every night for your return.”
“I’m not here to stay,” Sabra returned quietly.
“Lass, I know you believe ‘tis your duty to search out
the one who tried to kill you but--”
“We agreed it was a waste of time to talk about this.”
Sitting back in the chair, the older woman smiled
sadly. “Aye, we did. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try, does it? After all, you
are my niece, blood of my blood. I admit I don’t want to let you go. I very
much fear that once you do, we’ll not hear from you again.” When there was no
answer, she sighed. “I feared as much.”
“I will contact you.” But even as she said it, Sabra
knew it for the lie it was. Nay, she would cut off all communication,
because to not do so... She skittered away from the unwelcome thought.
“Of course,” Sarrah agreed, knowing she fooled no one.
“But in the meantime, you’re here and until you go, I’ll enjoy your company.”
“I would like that... Aunt.” Strangely enough, it was
true.
Silently they turned their gazes to the children
playing happily, each caught in their own thoughts, taking comfort in the
other’s presence.
~ * ~
Opening the door, Sabra stood quietly in the dim hall,
smelling the dust that lay thickly upon everything. Paintings that lined the
hall were covered in dust, photo images cloudy with grime. Mayhaps it was for
the best that she couldn’t see everything too clearly.
She wandered down the hall, hearing her footsteps echo
eerily on the wooden floors, once polished and her mother’s pride. Squaring her
shoulders, she entered the living room and stood silent, taking in the very
stillness of the room. Sheets covered the furniture and the air of abandonment
was everywhere.
Taking a deep breath, she crossed to a nearby window
and drew back the curtain. A piece of the delicate fabric came away in her
hand, faded and fragile after hanging for so many years with the sun beating on
it. Immediately light streamed into the room and she turned for a better look.
Aye, there was the mantle, still covered in photo
images of various family members. A vase held a crumbling stalk, dried petals
scattered across the wood and onto the floor.
Lilis blossoms.
Almost as if it was yesterday, she could hear her
mother laughing as her father mischievously coaxed another kiss out of her
before calling for Sabra, his ‘little lilis blossom’. Then he’d take her
fishing or horse riding...
A lump rose unexpectedly in her throat. Stupid. It
had been so long ago.
Straightening her shoulders, she grasped a sheet in
her hand, whisking it off the chair and sneezing as the dust flew up to tickle
her nose before settling lazily down again over the rich fabric revealed.
Father’s chair.
Shaking her head, she wandered out into the hall and
across into the kitchen. The chiller and cupboard were bare of food, but the
dishes were as they’d always been, stacked neatly on the shelves. Someone had
covered them with cloths. A vase stood on the windowsill, dried, brittle lilis
petals at the base.
She left the room quickly and paused to look up at the
staircase leading to the upper rooms. Her old bedroom, her parents’ room.
Could she face the memories awaiting her up there?
~ * ~
He hadn’t liked that, had even gone as far as to tell
Darvk that he shouldn’t have allowed it.
“I respect her wishes,” Darvk had returned.
“But alone? Couldn’t someone have gone with her?”
“I’m not going to antagonize her.” The vivid blue eyes
suddenly narrowed thoughtfully. “You’re very upset about this, aren’t you?”
“I’m not upset. I just think you should have insisted
on going with the lass. After all that’s happened, she needs someone by her
side.”
“I see.” Darvk pursed his lips. “Would I be correct in
my belief that you intend to seek her out?”
“Aye.”
“Nay, nay, you are right.” His friend clapped a hand
on his shoulder. “You do have a responsibility for her. If not for you, she
would have died and never been returned to us. I know you’ve respected our
privacy and stayed away to let us become reacquainted, but you were friends
with her a long time ago, too. Nay, I think it would be best if someone is with
her, and I would appreciate it if ‘twas you.”
And now here he was, seeing the house through new
eyes. It had an abandoned appearance about it, weeds choking the once lush
gardens. Once vibrant curtains hung faded in the windows. The hall was dark
through the open door.
Walking inside, he heard the ring of his boots on the
wood and trod more quietly. Glancing into the living room, he saw the discarded
sheet on the floor. The room was empty apart from furniture...
“Sabra?” He cocked his head to listen for an answer.
When there was none, he looked into the large kitchen
but found that unoccupied as well. A brief tour through the downstairs rooms
revealed no signs of life, and after ensuring that no one was in the desolate
wilderness that was once a garden out back, he mounted the stairs.
“Sabra? Are you up here, lass?”
Silence greeted him once more. Becoming a little more
worried now, he peered into the rooms on each side of the hall, finding them
abandoned, the atmosphere desolate. As he neared the window at the end of the
hall, he heard a movement from the last room, one he knew to be a bedroom, and
glanced in to see Sabra standing still, her back to him. For a brief instant
his eyes skimmed over her, noting the way the gown she wore fell gracefully to
her ankles, showing small sandaled feet. It outlined her body, more noticeably
so when she partly turned and the material flattened over rounded breasts.
“Sabra? Are you all right?”
“You found me,” she replied flatly, turning her back
to him once more to look up at a painting on the wall. “How convenient. You
always find me, don’t you? Did Darvk send you after all?”
“Nay.” Frowning, he walked into the room. “What’s the
matter? Have I offended you in some way?”
A brittle laugh sounded. “You have no idea what you’ve
done.”
“So tell me.” He drew to a halt beside her, looking
down but seeing only her profile.
“Look.” She pointed upwards and he followed the
direction to see the painting on the wall.
It was a portrait of Shera and Lok on their wedding
day. Shera had a shy, delighted sparkle in her eyes while Lok’s shone with
pride. Even the dust coating it couldn’t hide the happiness they’d shared. Beside
the portrait was another, Sabra at ten years of age, mischief dancing in her
eyes.
“You should never have brought me here,
“What? Sabra, stop!”
“You should have left me out there!”
Overcoming his surprise, the big trader strode after
her, catching her easily in the doorway to swing her around to face him. “I
think you had better explain yourself.”
“This should be explanation enough!” She gestured
wildly around the room.
“Unfortunately, ‘tis not.” A spark of anger kindled
inside him at her accusations, the cause of which he had no knowledge.
“I don’t belong here!”
“This is the home you were born in--”
“I’m not that same babe,
“Nay. You grew up--”
“I spent my first twelve years here, but the other
eight were out there!” She pointed to the window. “And that’s where I belong!”
“If you would only give yourself the chance--”
Wrenching her arm from his grasp, she stormed away,
only to be brought up short again in the hallway by his hand on her shoulder.
“Let me go.”
“When you start speaking sense, Sabra, and not
before.”
She tried to shrug away, but he was having none of it.
In one effortless motion he pinned her back against the wall, his large hands
holding her shoulders easily when she attempted to pull away.
“Take your bloody hands off me!”
“I’ve had about enough of your insults, wench,”
“I told you already. You shouldn’t have brought me here.”
“That doesn’t even begin to make sense. Would you
rather I had left you in the snow in that godforsaken settlement to die?”
“Aye!”
He sucked in his breath, his gaze sweeping her face
intensely.
“I would rather have died than be brought back here!”
“Is that so? Well, I’m sorry to have disappointed you,
wench, but you are here. Saying you don’t belong explains nothing, so unless
you care to inform me clearly why you hate me and this planet, we’re going to
stay here.”
Her jaw clenched.
His eyes narrowed.
They glared at each other.
“Nay.”
“Then what do you blame us for? What can I do to make
things right for you?”
“You can’t do anything.” All the fight left her and
she sagged against the wall, aware now of her aching knee. She’d walked too far
on it, she noted absentmindedly.
“Are you so sure?” His voice deepened, inviting
confidences shared.
“I know it.” Wearily she looked up at him, her
emotions in tatters from the journey through her childhood home. “I truly don’t
belong here. Can’t you see that? Sense it?”
“Nay. I see before me a childhood friend whom I have
missed for a long time.” One long finger stroked down her cheek. “Why do you
feel as you do?”
“You know me,
“You’ve spurned your friends.”
“They don’t know me. In my heart, I know I’m
different.”
“Are you so sure? Given time--”
“Time changes nothing.
“Ah, lass--”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“‘Tis not pity I offer, but the arms that were never
there to hold you when you needed us most.”
“A bounty hunter doesn’t cry.” Sliding out of his
hold, she strode over to the staircase. “I’m not a Daamen wench who takes care
of the family business. Not a sheltered daughter. I hunt and kill. ‘Tis what I
do, what I am.”
“You don’t have to be a hunter forever,” he replied
quietly.
“I’m a hunter until I have slain the one I have hunted
all these years. I live to find him again. I was close,
He followed her down the stairs. “Next time you
mightn’t be so lucky, Sabra.”
“He tried to break my spirit once and kill me once.
Neither time did he succeed. But I will. I’ll succeed where he failed, and I’ll
spit in his eye when he swings from my rope.”
A chill went through him. “Don’t let him destroy your
soul, Sabra. Let someone else trap him. We can employ top mercenaries, other
bounty hunters--”
“He is mine,” she said simply and resting her hand
upon his arm, ordered softly, “Let me pass.”
There was nothing he could do but obey.
He watched her silent progress down the path, only the
limp betraying how injured she’d been mere weeks before.
But not as injured as her soul was.
He cursed the man who’d done this to her.
~ * ~
Memories had been stirred by being in the house,
surrounded by her parents’ things, threatening the barricade surrounding her
heart. That was why it was so dangerous to be here. She couldn’t afford to be
weak, to cry and become dependant on others to comfort her. Nay, she had to
stand alone, seek out that bastard Darcus, then... Then what? Return here?
She stared out into the dark garden, the scent of jasmine teasing her senses. Nay.
Sabra shook her head vigorously. She had changed too much to live here. There
were still secrets...
“So, little bounty hunter, we meet at last,” a cool
voice greeted.
She started up, peering into the gloom, just able to
make out two tall figures walking stealthily up the path. Stealth with ease.
A true mark of skilled mercenaries. Only one of these figures was very
round at the moment. She saw why when the two tall, beautiful women stepped
into the soft glow of the light.
She also recognized them immediately. The round one
was pregnant, the loose gown skimming the large curve of her stomach but unable
to hide the strength in the shapely arms. Blonde hair brushed her shoulders and
impatiently she pushed it back to reveal the two silver hoops in her right ear.
Without having to look, Sabra knew that four silver hoops pierced her left
earlobe while a silver band encircled her left upper arm, the dull glow in the
light confirming it. The other warrior would have the same, as did her sister
Tenia.
“Reya, Dana.”
“Obviously she knows us, Reya,” Dana grunted, taking a
seat awkwardly on the swing beside Sabra. “Bloody hell, why does pregnancy have
to make you cumbersome? I don’t remember you being this round!”
“I wasn’t carrying twins,” Reya returned with cold
amusement.
“Humph. So.” Dana cast hazel eyes over the smaller
woman. “This is the one back from the dead--in more ways than one.”
“Darvk’s cousin, now Tenia’s as well.”
With a practiced eye, Sabra studied the regal woman
relaxing against the verandah post with a practiced eye. These were the Reekas,
and this was Reya, sister to Tenia and leader of the Reeka Warrior Women. Wild
red-gold curls tumbled down her back, and cold pale green eyes were fastened on
her with an all-seeing knowledge in them. She was dressed as a Reeka, too. A
short leather skirt and sleeveless vest, with a wide belt wrapped around the
trim waist. Rawhide boots encased strong, slender calves, rawhide strips
wrapped around to hold them firm.
“Missing the sword on your back, aren’t you?” she
asked coolly.
“And the laser at her thigh.” Dana laughed. “My, you
are famous, Reya!”
“So it’d seem,” her sister warrior replied. “But in
your own way, little hunter, you’re just as famous.”
“Returning from the dead will do that to a person.”
Sabra shrugged.
“Sharp, too. I like that. Unfortunately, that can get
a person killed in your line of work.” Dana shifted on the seat, making it sway
gently.
“I think it pays to be sharp,” Sabra stated coolly.
“I actually meant being a smart-arse.”
“Well, you two would know about that, wouldn’t you?”
A cold smile curved Reya’s lips. “Definitely Cormac’s protégée.
He taught you well, it would seem.”
“He was the best.”
“Hmm.”
Silently they contemplated each other, weighing and
forming opinions on what they already knew, and gut instincts.
“So?” Sabra finally asked. “Have you come to visit
your sister?”
“Actually, nay. ‘Tis you we’ve come to see.”
“Ah. Should I feel honored or threatened?”
“Honored,” Dana advised.
“You don’t intend to kill a hunter tonight?”
Nine
Reya’s eyes gleamed. “Not a sickly one, by any means.”
“Besides which, Tenia wouldn’t let us,” Dana informed
Sabra. “Darvk would get mad, Maverk would be ticked off, and Garret would start
to shout.”
“Not to mention
“Oh, aye,
“Did he tell you to come?” Sabra asked sharply.
“Oh-ho, that got your attention. Nay, he didn’t. As a
matter of fact, it was our decision to visit you. Or Reya’s, anyway.”
“Oh?” She cast a questioning look at the warrior
standing so still.
“It would seem to me that you might need a little
help.”
“Help? From you?”
“Why not? Do you see anyone else here?” She inclined
her head to the dark garden beyond.
“Why would you wish to help me?”
“Because you’re related to Darvk and he is wed to my
sister. So to keep her happy, I must keep him happy and that involves helping
you. Make no mistake,” her white teeth flashed in an ironic smile, “the offer
doesn’t come from the goodness of my heart.”
“How reassuring.”
“I think I’m starting to like you,” Dana observed.
“How unnerving. Me, liking a bounty hunter.”
Sabra grew still.
“What did I say wrong now?”
“Nothing.”
“I said something. You have that expression I’ve seen
on many faces. It’s actually quite common.”
Reya regarded her steadily. Something had caught her
attention.
“You’re the first to acknowledge me as a bounty
hunter,” Sabra answered quietly.
“What do you expect from ex-outlaws and mercenaries?
We’re not known for being subtle. Hells bells, when am I ever going to be
comfortable again? Reya, help me up. I have to walk around!”
Without taking her eyes from the hunter, Reya reached
out and hauled her cousin up, steadying her without thought.
Dana proceeded to peevishly pace the length of the
verandah and back.
“So, how do you expect to help me? Do you have a ship
ready to leave this planet?” Sabra arched one brow.
“In your condition?” Reya cast her a critical glance.
“You wouldn’t last five minutes on the edge of the Outlaw Sector. That will be
where you eventually head, won’t it?”
“Are you prying for information to pass onto Darvk or
“Nay. I know your intentions. You see,” the white
teeth flashed in another smile, only more predatory this time. “I know all
about revenge and running.”
“I don’t run from anyone.”
“Nay? What about yourself?”
“I know what I am. What the hell are you suggesting?”
“You are Daamen, you can’t deny that. And before you
try, don’t forget that you bear the mark. You were born here. Your parents were
Daamen. You can’t escape that, no matter how far or long you run.”
“You’ve a strange way of trying to help,” Sabra said
stiffly. “If this is all you want to talk about, quit wasting my time.”
“Nasty little piece,” Dana observed. “Can’t see what
“He talked about me?”
“You’re more like us than the poor man realizes. You’d
have made a good outlaw, you know.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I hunt outlaws.”
“Mercenary, then. Don’t be so touchy!”
Sabra stood up impatiently. “Just what is it you
want?”
“As I said, we’re here to offer help,” Reya replied
calmly.
“You’ve done nothing to indicate it so far.”
All amusement fled the beautiful, cold face. Stepping
closer, she gazed down at the smaller wench. “You and I are alike in more ways
than you know. I understand how your mind works. I also know there are secrets
buried deep within that you’ve no wish to share. Shameful? Mayhaps. Depends on
your perception. But I know how the past can eat away at your soul. It’s eating
at yours, aye?”
“My soul is my business.” Sabra hid her uneasiness.
This warrior was getting too close for comfort.
“Aye, ‘tis. You’ve been warned; there are people here
who love you. Don’t make the mistakes I made and let secrets tear you apart or
destroy your future.”
“You’re not entirely on track with your observations,
warrior.”
“Nay? Then mayhaps you wish to share your knowledge
with me?”
Instinctively Sabra knew she wouldn’t reveal anything
she was told, and somehow, she felt an affinity with this Reeka. “My soul I get
back a piece at a time, every time I hang one of those cursed pirates. ‘Twill
be complete again once I hang... the one.”
“Ah. ‘The one’. And after you’ve killed ‘the one’?
What then? I strongly doubt you plan to return here.”
“What is there here for me?”
“Home. Family.”
“I don’t fit in.”
“You don’t allow yourself to.”
“Things... have happened.”
Reya regarded her steadily. “Mayhaps you need to think
long and hard on your future.”
“Now you sound like Cormac.”
“Perish the thought.” Dana shuddered. “Didn’t think
that heartless bastard could give good advice.”
Sabra glared at her.
“What? Oh, aye. He’s dead. And your friend. See, I
told you I always say the wrong thing. Back to you, sister.”
“You won’t change my mind,” Sabra stated.
A brief tinge of regret flashed through the chilly
depths of Reya’s eyes and she shrugged. “I know. ‘Tis your decision but if you
ever want to talk, Tenia knows where I live.” She turned to her cousin. “Ready,
sister?”
“More than ready. I can’t wait for Garret to rub my
back. He has magic hands.”
“You told me that was how you got pregnant in the
first place.”
“Well, technically it wasn’t his hands, but they sure
led up to it!” Dana descended the steps carefully.
Sabra watched them walk away, their strides strong and
confident, and an idea sprang to mind. “Wait.”
They looked around at her, their brows raised in
query.
“If you really wish to help...”
“Aye?” Reya regarded her steadily.
“I need to build up my strength.”
“And?”
She bit her lip, reluctant to ask but needing the
help. “I need training, someone to pit my skills against. I’ve a feeling you
would make a good opponent, Reya.”
The warrior laughed softly. “Be like old times, eh,
Dana?”
“Darvk will like this--not.”
“‘Tis not his choice. Meet me here in the early morn,
little hunter. I think we’d better start our lessons in private.”
“I’ll be waiting.” As they neared the gate, she called
out again. “And Reya?”
“Aye?”
“My name is Sabra.”
A chuckle of chill amusement floated to her ears.
Settling back on the swing, she closed her eyes,
listening to their retreating voices. Aye, ‘twas time to start training. There
was a pirate to hunt down and kill.
~ * ~
Darvk looked up as
Sighing,
A grin spread across Darvk’s face. “Hey, Maverk, did
you hear that?”
“How interesting! Our young friend has wench
problems!”
“Shit, I thought you were here alone.”
“I’m deeply hurt.” Maverk grinned hugely, appearing
anything but. “I’m always available for a heart-to-heart.”
“This had better be left to later.”
“Nay, nay!” Grabbing his friend’s arm, Darvk steered
him over to an upended rain barrel. “We’re becoming quite professional at
advising our lovelorn friends.”
“Your professional advice isn’t always the right kind.
In fact, it can be downright deadly.”
“Who told you that?”
“Shamon--after he got his face slapped by Red’s
sister.”
A guffaw escaped Maverk.
“See? And you honestly think I’ll listen to both of
you together? Even I’m not that stupid!”
“Never mind him.” Darvk attempted to be serious. “Now,
who has you so unhappy and heart sore?”
“Sabra--and ‘tis not my heart,”
“You mean returning to the Outlaw Sector and hunting
this killer?” Maverk queried.
“Aye. That and the fact that she has this thing about
not belonging here anymore. ‘Tis ludicrous!”
The traders sobered instantly.
“I agree with you,” Darvk said quietly. “But I can’t
force her to stay here. Tenia made that quite clear to me.”
“Tenia?”
“Reya agrees with both you and Tenia,” Maverk
interrupted. “But she also has an inkling of how Sabra feels.”
“Reya had her own demons to dispel, I know, but don’t
you think this is slightly different? Sabra knows her enemy, she knows she did
nothing wrong, so why this damned insistence to leave on a suicide mission such
as this?”
“Inner demons come in many forms and, unfortunately,
‘twould seem your little lass is wrestling a few of her own that she hasn’t
told us about.”
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“You know what I went through with my Reya. I know how
you feel--”
“But you insisted on being with her, you even
blackmailed Dana into helping. How can I possibly be by her side all the time?
What excuse can I use?”
“Do you really need one?” Darvk asked quietly.
Perplexed,
“Seems to me you have a reason already.”
“I’m not following you.”
“That makes two of us.” Maverk leaned back against the
stall door.
“
“Because she was--is--my friend.”
“Nothing more?”
“Hell, Darvk, I’ve known the lass since she was in the
cradle! What do you think?”
“She left a child and came back a grown wench. Your
concern seems to be more than just that of a friend.”
Baffled,
“Sabra’s returned almost a stranger to us all, you
included. Her ideas and morals have changed, her way of life alien to us. Hell,
she’s even a bounty hunter, one of the most despised after outlaws and space
pirates--”
The rain barrel tipped over as the trader lunged to
his feet, his dark eyes burning, big hands fisted. “Do you dare to speak of
your own cousin like that? By God, Darvk, one of my greatest friends you may
be, but there’s no way I’ll let you speak of the lass in such a way!”
“Steady on there!” Alarmed, Maverk pushed away from
the stall, ready to come between his two friends if need be.
“‘Tis all right.” Darvk held his hand up, regarding
the curly-haired trader calmly. “I don’t insult nor despise the lass. There’s
nothing I wouldn’t do for her, and that includes her happiness.”
“Then why the harsh words?”
“They weren’t meant to be,
“Nay! I’ll never accept that Sabra is heartless like
those vermin, that she has no future! And I refuse to allow her to destroy her
life! She means too much to me!” Striding forward, he jabbed Darvk in the chest
with one finger. “Even if it means wedding her!”
Maverk’s mouth dropped open.
Folding his arms, Darvk raised one brow in
satisfaction.
Stunned,
“Uh-huh.” Darvk nodded. “Just a friend, eh?”
“I--‘tis not--I never--”
“You never offered to wed Reya to save her soul.” A
grin spread across Maverk’s chiseled features. “Yet you were friendly with
her.”
“Damn it, I--”
“Oh, aye. Something to think on, isn’t it?” Maverk
winked broadly at Darvk. “Gives me something to think about. Oh my, aye.”
“It does put a different point of view on things,
doesn’t it?” Darvk clapped
Seeing the astonishment still on
Dazed,
Shaking his own head, Maverk returned to the stall to
resume grooming the stallion. He had to admit feeling concerned for his young
friend. The path ahead was not going to be easy, was, in fact, possibly fraught
with danger.
“Ah, but then we Daamens are known to rush headlong
into danger for our beloved lasses, eh?” With a small smile, he ruffled the
stallion’s mane. “‘Tis the best thing we do.”
~ * ~
Studying the computer screen, Veknor pursed his lips.
News from Darcus showed that he’d succeeded in placing outlaws close to some of
those in power in the Lawful Sector. The Overlord would not be happy.
Switching on the viscomm, he waited for the Overlord’s
image to appear.
“You have news?” The white face appeared abruptly.
“Yes. Two outlaws have succeeded in being placed in
roles of guards.”
“Guards. As in the planet leader’s personal guards?”
“Two, yes. Several others have been accepted as
general palace guards.”
“Ingenious. Very ingenious.”
Veknor tapped one finger idly on the desk while the Overlord
remained deep in thought.
Several minutes passed while the vertical pupils in
the pink eyes dilated several times. Finally, the Overlord nodded.
“Yes. I have decided on our next step.”
“Name it and it will be done.”
“Send several of your trusted men into the Lawful
Sector.”
Veknor’s brows rose.
“It is amazing what men will talk about when away from
their captains.”
“They work for him,” Veknor pointed out.
“Yes, but does he tell them everything? Has he told
you the whole plan?”
“No. He plays his cards close to his chest.”
“He won’t tell all of his plan to anyone. He will tell
a little to every captain but none will know what he tells the others.”
“So they all do a bit, each adding to the design.”
“Exactly.”
“So if my crew can find out what he has told the
different ones and relay it back to us, we can piece together the whole
scheme.”
“Now you’ve caught on, Veknor. I leave it in your
capable hands.”
The viscomm went blank and the pirate leaned back in
his chair, steepling his fingers before him contemplatively.
~ * ~
“I was starting
to think my babe would appear before you did.”
Sabra cast the blonde warrior a hard look. “Early
morns are not my favorite time of the day.”
“Really? Surprise me some more.”
“Mayhaps you’d like to spar in my place, Dana?”
“I’m pregnant, Reya, or haven’t you noticed?”
“‘Tis just you’re spoiling for a fight this morn. I
thought you might the like opportunity.”
“I’m only spoiling for a fight because Garret refuses
to let me do anything around the house. ‘Don’t do this, I’ll lift that, I’ll
carry you up the stairs in case you fall, I--’”
“I thought we were here for me to hone my skills,”
Sabra interrupted.
Reya cast her an amused glance. “Touchy. Good attitude
to start the day.”
Rolling her eyes, Dana leaned back against a tree trunk.
“Far be it from me to upset you, hunter.”
“You haven’t even started to scratch the surface,
warrior.”
“We’ll see how sure you are of yourself after going a
few rounds with a Reeka.”
“‘Tis why I’m here. To fight, not yak.”
“At least you had the sense to dress for it.” Reya
gave her a sweeping glance of approval, taking in the short tunic Sabra wore
instead of the ankle-length, flowing gowns favored by the Daamen wenches. “And
if we keep yakking, time will pass and your absence be noticed. What would you
like to start with first?”
“What have you brought?”
“A couple of swords, staffs, and what could be your
favorite, a bullwhip.”
“A bullwhip I can practice with by myself. ‘Tis an
opponent I need.” Pulling an apple from the pocket of her tunic, she bit into
it and crunched thoughtfully. “What about hand-to-hand combat?”
“Whatever you feel ready for.”
“Let’s have a look at the swords.”
Pulling them from the canvas bag at her feet, Reya
handed one to her. Sabra tested the balance, taking a couple of practice swipes
in the air. Suddenly she threw it into the air, watching it twist and turn
before it came spinning back down toward her. With expert ease, she grabbed the
handle, effectively snatching it out of the air, then tossed the last of the
apple into the air and sliced it neatly in half on its descent in one smooth
motion.
“Impressive,” Dana observed.
“Very.” Reya hefted her own sword. “Ready?”
“Aye. Let’s do this.”
They circled around, taking each other’s measure, then
Sabra raised her sword and darted forward. Reya stepped into the downward
slash, thrusting up, and the sword blades rasped as they slid together before
springing apart.
She swung her own sword in from the side and Sabra
leaped back, deflecting it at the last minute.
The small clearing resounded with the clash of metal
as the combatants battled it out, blades flashing in the sun, feinting,
advancing and attacking, defensive and retreating, but only for the time it
took to work out another maneuver.
The sun beat down and Dana moved further into the
shade, watching Sabra closely, her keen gaze missing nothing, picking up
mistakes and weaknesses, noting strengths and adeptness, but overall admiring
the hunter’s techniques. She fought with craftiness, an offensive style, and
single-minded determination. But her knee... Dana noticed her favoring it more
and more as the minutes moved on.
“So, tell me,” Reya said, as they circled again. “Why
did I never see you in the Outlaw Sector?”
“I saw you fleetingly several times from a distance.
By then you were pardoned, so there was no need to approach you.” The sword
crisscrossed rapidly in a deadly pattern as Sabra moved forward in an attempt
to take the warrior off-guard.
With ease, each movement was met and deflected.
“Would you have been in the hunt if we were still
outlaws?”
“Why the interest?”
“Just curious.”
“Intending to slice me open if I don’t give the answer
you seek?”
White teeth flashed in a merciless smile. “Worried?”
The swords clashed together again and the warrior and
hunter found themselves close together, the blades crossed between them. Each
leaned forward, pressing home their weight, though Reya had the benefit of
being both taller and stronger.
“I wouldn’t have been in the final fight, only the
tracking.” Sabra gave a discernable shrug. “I was considered too young.”
The shrug cost her the advantage, Reya pushing her
back effortlessly. Regaining her balance, panting slightly, Sabra raised the
sword once more.
“Enough,” Dana called. “Your sore knee is placing you
at a real disadvantage now, and ‘twill do no good to cause further injury when
‘tis healing so well.”
The fighters stopped, lowering their swords.
The warrior had hardly raised a sweat, Sabra noted,
while she herself was breathing heavily. “Your reputation for swordsmanship is
well deserved, Reya.”
“You handle it with some skill yourself,” the Reeka
acknowledged. “But your knee is giving you some problems, aye?”
“Just aches, is all.”
“I’m surprised you can actually walk on it.” Dana idly
ruffled her blonde hair. “From what I heard, ‘twas a nasty injury.”
“I’m just as surprised. I thought I was a goner for
sure.”
“A wench called Learta, I hear,” Reya said.
“Hmm?”
“Your leg--and your life. Learta saved you. Or more
truthfully,
“So he said.”
“I’m guessing there was no gratitude shown to him.”
Dana tried to lean over to pick up the canvas bag, groaned, and gave up
grudgingly. “Bloody hell!”
When there was no reply from Sabra, Reya regarded her
steadily. “You resent
“Nay.”
“You never thanked him.”
“He told you that?”
“Don’t be so antagonistic. He didn’t have to. I know
how your mind works.”
“Is that so?”
The cold gaze was penetrating. “So, you wonder that
you actually lived. Don’t you know the full story?” The flicker in Sabra’s eyes
gave her away. “Ah.”
“‘Ah’ what?” Sabra asked irritably.
Dana grinned.
Returning the swords to the canvas bag, Reya easily
hoisted it over her shoulder. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Aye. But wait a minute. Where’re you going?”
“Home. You need to rest that knee, and I’ve things to
do with my daughter and husband.”
“But what do you know about this Learta and my
injuries?”
“Ah.”
“Here it comes.” Dana rubbed her belly smugly.
“Knowledge is best coming from the one who saved your
life,” Reya answered. “Gratitude also springs to mind. If you’ve nothing to be
ashamed of--”
“I don’t,” Sabra returned, stung.
“Then you should have no worries in asking
“Pride? What the hell--”
“What sort of a wench are you? One your parents would
be proud of, or as vicious and uncaring as the pirates that killed them? ”
Outraged, Sabra stared after their departing figures,
swore, kicked a bush before her, then limped back in the direction of Darvk’s
home.
Ten
The stallion snorted and
Even now, he couldn’t believe he’d really said what he
had. Claim Sabra as his lifemate? With a sigh, he shook his head. Wedding
the lass, much less bedding her... How could he even think--however
unconsciously--about her that way? He’d known the lass from the cradle; she was
more like a sister to him.
Or had been.
Mayhaps someone should offer for her, he thought. Give her a happy home, children. Be
there for her, give her hugs and kisses... His jaw clenched at the mental image
of her in another man’s arms. Ridiculous. Must be to do with these brotherly
feelings--
Rounding a corner,
“Sabra,” he greeted, trying to ignore the little jolt
those brilliant cobalt eyes gave him.
She grunted.
“What’re you doing out here?”
“Going for a walk.” She continued limping onwards.
Kneeing the horse closer, he gazed down at her, noting
the more pronounced limp. “Is your knee sore?”
“Nay.”
“You’re favoring it more than normal.”
“I’m a little tired, ‘tis all.”
Concern filled him. “How far have you been walking?”
“Why? Do I need your permission?”
“Your cheeks are flushed. I think you’ve walked too
far. Here.” Leaning down slightly, he extended his hand. “You can ride with
me.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”
Straightening, he eyed her pensively. “You really
resent me, don’t you?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Are you going to hate me forever?”
A wealth of sadness weighted down the question,
prompting her to involuntarily glance up at him. Dark eyes, shadowed with pain
and remorse, gazed down at her. He made no attempt to hide his feelings.
She felt a strange pang. He didn’t hide his feelings,
for he had no reason to do so. A memory came sharply to the fore, her Father
stating firmly that no Daamen man or wench hid their feelings from fellow
Daamens. There was no need, for they were as one, loyal and true to each other.
Except for her.
‘Twas too late now, but the memory lingered, tapping an unknown poignancy deep
inside.
The ache in his chest grew sharper when there was no
response, no expression on the lovely face. ‘Twould seem there was no
forgiveness in the lass for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to simply ride
on and leave her. “I know it won’t make things easier for you, Sabra, but I’m
so sorry--”
“Does the offer still stand?”
“Pardon?”
She held up her hand to him, her face unreadable.
For several seconds he gazed down at her hand
uncertainly, then a small smile crossed his lips. Reaching down, he engulfed
her hand in a warm clasp and easily pulled her up behind him. Her slender arms
encircled his waist loosely and he glanced down to see shapely thighs fitted in
behind his own. “All right, lass?”
“Aye.”
The horse started forward with a gentle nudge of his
boots and he could feel the warmth from Sabra’s body at his back. It felt so
right. “Dare I hope that you forgive me, even a little bit?”
“There is nothing to forgive,
His name upon her lips, spoken so softly, lifted the
gloom from his heart. “So you don’t resent me?”
“I resent what you did. There is a difference.”
“I couldn’t leave you there to die, lass. And when I
recognized you, ‘twas natural to bring you home. I had no idea that you would
hate to return here so much.”
“Would it have made a difference if you’d known?”
He closed his eyes briefly. Would it? The
picture of the bounty hunters came to mind, their cold-bloodedness, the Outlaw
Sector in which she lived and hunted. “Nay.” He glanced over his shoulder
quickly. “Don’t hate me for it. I but speak the truth.”
“I don’t hate you.” She felt the tension ease from the
muscular body beneath her hands. “I never have.”
“I thought--”
“Wrong.”
Silence fell between them, easier now. The horse
continued slowly onwards,
“You found me.”
The statement caught him unawares, but only briefly.
‘Twas only natural that the subject would come up sooner or later. And better
to concentrate on that than the bewildering sensations that were slowly but
surely making themselves known. Such as liking her warmth and softness against
him. “Aye.”
“How did you find me?”
“We were going to the tavern for a drink--”
“And wenching.”
“Well, for some of us. Not I,” he added hurriedly,
then wondering why he did so.
“Hmm. Anyway...”
“We saw the bodies of the hunters... your friends...
on the sidewalk. I didn’t see you and presumed that you’d been taken.”
“Not alive,” she promised grimly. Never, she
vowed silently. Never again.
Hoping she’d expand on that,
Briefly, she felt his hand brush against hers at his
waist.
“--but then I saw you breathing, as shallow as ‘twas.
We wrapped you in a cloak, intending to return to the ship with you, when an
old man appeared and said he knew someone who could help you.”
“You trusted a stranger? Foolish, don’t you think,
considering where you were?”
“There was no real choice. We knew you’d die without
help and besides, there were several of us and we were armed.”
“About the only wise thing I’ve heard yet.”
A chuckle sounded and her hand was squeezed gently. It
was comforting and friendly all at once, touching a chord long ago forgotten.
“You’ve never lost that caustic tongue, lass.”
“I’ve had plenty of opportunity to sharpen it.”
“No doubt.”
“So,” she pressed. “You took me to this wench named
Learta?”
Turning in the saddle, he gave her a quizzical look.
“You know the story? Darvk has told you?”
“Nay. But I’ve heard mention of her.”
“Aye, Learta was her name. Aye, we took you to her and
she worked a miracle. The powders she used assisted in healing the wound in
your lung and stopped the bleeding. She also took on physical manifestations of
your injuries.”
“She bled?”
“Aye. ‘Twas the weirdest thing.”
“Red?” She frowned, trying to recall who he was.
“You don’t remember Red?”
“Nay, not really.”
Again he twisted around in the saddle to watch her
face. “Do you remember naught of the return journey?”
“Not much. Vaguely. Someone fed me, I remember that.”
“You were stubborn, lass. ‘Twas no easy chore.”
“‘Twas you?” She groped back in the recesses of her
memory. “Aye, now I think...”
“Wait.” She tightened her hold around his waist. “Stop
the horse.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to ask you something.”
Obligingly he drew the horse to a halt and waited.
When there were no further questions, he glanced over his shoulder to find her
gazing up at the tall trees, her face expressionless.
Without looking at him, she asked softly, “What
happened to my friends?”
“We had them buried,” he returned gently.
“None of them lived?”
“I’m sorry, lass. There was no chance of that.”
Squeezing her hand again in comfort, he was pleasantly surprised when she
unconsciously returned the gesture. “If there had been, we’d have cared for
them, too.”
“I know.”
Seeing her throat work convulsively, he knew she was
blinking back the tears. “‘Tis no shame to cry for them.”
“Crying won’t fix anything.” Rubbing her hand down her
face, she took a deep breath and met his gaze squarely. “I’m in your debt,
‘twould seem, for not only my life but the care you showed my friends. If those
bastards had been left with their bodies, they’d have decorated the settlement
with them.”
“What happened, Sabra? Cormac and those others were
experts. How’d they manage to get butchered like that?”
“They were helping me.”
“You were caught?”
“Nay. I was on the trail of my nemesis and I was
close, so very close. We were careful, we scanned the area, we knew the
information we had was true. But we were double-crossed.” She laughed bitterly.
“Any chance to kill a hunter, eh? Makes one wonder, sometimes, who is the
hunter and who the prey in the Outlaw Sector. Or anywhere.” A self-deprecating
shrug lifted slender shoulders. “Be that as it may, the double-crosser will get
what is coming to her.”
“Her?”
“A woman scorned. Apparently. Anyway, the scan showed
no noticeable increase in the numbers of settlers in the settlement, nor picked
up any recognition of any pirate’s life pattern, so we went into the
settlement. After checking out the tavern, we entered and found Miklar, lover
of the pirate we sought. She told us where...” Sabra hesitated. “Well, turned
out the pirates arrived, saw us enter the tavern, and came up through the
cellars leading out the back. We were outnumbered and you can guess the rest.”
“But they left you alive.”
“I shouldn’t have lived. Loss of blood and the cold
would have finished the job, but along you came and here I am.”
“Here you are,” he echoed.
Their eyes met, locked, and for several seconds it was
as though only the two of them existed. The quiet around them was broken only
by the chirping of day flyers and the breeze lazily swirling through the trees.
Awareness of her body pressed against his back
surfaced strongly, tantalizingly, and
“We--we’d better get moving.” Sabra broke contact with
a feeling akin to panic. What was wrong with her?
“I guess so.”
Relief filled her when he returned his attention to
the path before them, nudging the horse once more into movement. But movement
rocked her against the body of the man before her and she became conscious of
the strength of him, the muscles in the ribbed stomach beneath her hand, which
rested on the naked skin bared by the open vest.
Uneasily, she pulled her hands back, seeking to put
material between their flesh.
“All right, lass?”
“Fine.” Just wonderful. For some reason his
nearness was suddenly affecting her and she tried to ease a bit of space
between them.
“You’re squirming. Are you uncomfortable?”
“A little. Mayhaps I should walk.”
“You can ride before me--”
“I’m fine just the way I am.” Sit before him? The
very thought made her heart beat a little faster. “‘Tis not far now, is it?”
“Another few minutes and we’ll be at Darvk’s home. Are
you sure--”
“Quite.”
The movement of the horse caused her to slide forward
and she gave up, suffering the sensation of her body sliding against his with
gritted teeth. ‘Twas uneasiness at being in close proximity with another man,
‘twas all. She didn’t like the feeling of being dependant on anyone, and the
sooner she recovered her strength and put some space between them--such as a
few million miles--the better she’d be.
~ * ~
Darcus touched the screen and tiny lights flashed in
several places, marking planets. Settling back in the chair, he studied the
galaxy map, a smile of satisfaction curving his cruel lips. It was all going as
planned. Ten planets now had his men on them. And out of those ten, five had
found positions in close contact with planet leaders.
Chuckling, he
swung his legs up onto the table and crossed his booted feet. “Ridly!”
The door opened. “Yes?”
“I’m very happy, Ridly.”
“Oh? Things going as planned?”
“Better every minute. Gives me an appetite.”
His henchman nodded and retreated.
Oh, yes. The taste of victory stirred up his appetite
nicely. What he needed was a little something to slake that appetite on.
A commotion sounded and he looked hungrily at the door
as it swung open to admit Ridly pulling a long chain.
“What a delightful choice.” Darcus got to his feet,
his eyes devouring the young girl tugging frantically at manacles fastening her
to the chain. “So luscious, so untried.” He winked lewdly. “But not for long,
my pretty. You’ll be so broken by the time I finish with you, that your legs
will be permanently bowed.”
Ridly laughed with him but inside he cringed. Within
minutes of closing the door, he was cringing even more, only this time openly
as the girl’s screams grew in crescendo and resounded for a long time after.
In the morning he took her broken, bloodied body out
to the refuse crusher.
~ * ~
“It’s time I went.”
“You are now moving on crutches without much pain.
Push yourself too soon, mi debar, and you will undo all the good I’ve
done.”
“I have to search for her.”
“Will several more days make such a difference?”
“If she is in his hands, yes.”
“If she is in his hands, she’ll be mindless by now.”
He rounded on the woman furiously. “I will not leave
her in his clutches!”
Soothingly she laid a scarred hand upon his shoulder.
“That’s not what I meant, as you well know. But of what use will you be if you
are not at your full strength?”
Wearily, he picked up the crutches. “Then there is no
time to waste. I need to exercise, to build this strength.”
“And good food.” She nodded as she watched him pace up
and down the dirt path. “Very good, mi debar.”
~ * ~
“I hear you’re making a trip to Comll?”
Tenia glanced up from where she knelt playing with
Sharrie in the grass. “Correct.”
“May I come?”
“Now what could possibly interest you in coming to the
Reeka settlement?”
“Change of scenery.”
“Indeed? Tell me, Sabra, do you intend to return with
us?”
“I’m no fool. My strength is still not a hundred
percent.”
“Darvk won’t be pleased.”
“‘Tis not his choice.”
“Nor will
Sabra’s jaw clenched. “Do I need everyone’s
permission? Or should I just find my own way?”
A twinkle lit the violet eyes. “I doubt anyone here
would loan you a ship.”
“So I’m a prisoner, is that it?”
“Nay. Come, then.” Standing, Tenia scooped Sharrie up
into her arms. “But there is one thing.”
One brown brow arched.
“Darvk will know that you go--”
“Of course he will.”
“Sarcasm does become you, doesn’t it? The
reason is that he accompanies us.”
“To keep watch on me? To ensure I don’t run away?”
“Guilty conscience? He comes because he never allows
us to travel without escort.”
Following the warrior into the house, Sabra retorted
moodily, “I’m surprised you allow him to take control so easily.”
“Be assured, Darvk doesn’t try and tell me what to do.
He knows that I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“So why not go yourself?”
“Because, Sabra, since your parents’ ship was attacked
all those years ago and you were taken, no Daamen female travels alone.”
“So ‘tis my fault that Daamen wenches have no
freedom?”
Turning around, Tenia gazed calmly down at the younger
woman. “We are free to choose where we go. Would you mock our men for trying to
ensure our continued safety? Do you wish all wenches to be prey such as you were?”
“Nay, but I was on a ship of traders and it made no
difference--”
“So you’d rather the Daamens didn’t even try to
protect their families? Or would you feel more vindicated if the males
overruled the females and forced them to stay planet-bound?”
Heat crept into Sabra’s cheeks. “Of course not! But
what happens if a Daamen wench wants to go where the men didn’t want her to?”
“Do you see jails around here? Do you see signs
telling us what to do? They don’t force us to do anything, little cousin. They
simply try to ensure our safety, even if it means going with us into areas they
don’t like.”
“What if you don’t want the men to accompany you? What
then?”
“We go ourselves. The Reeka warriors are more than
happy to accompany Daamen wenches on expeditions outside Daamen space.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that the females can’t
go anywhere alone.”
“You miss the point, Sabra. Your female kinfolk are
not fools, as you seem quick to think. They know the dangers that lie out
there, ready to pounce upon the unsuspecting and unguarded. ‘Twas partly their
choice that no one leaves the planet unaccompanied. Now you think on that while
I go and get ready.”
Frowning, Sabra watched her stride up the stairs. Partly
the choice of female Daamens? Was that really so? Searching her memory for
snippets of information, all she could recall was how well known it was that
Daamen wenches were guarded at all times. No one stood a chance of getting near
them unless they had tremendous fire-power, which meant that the few petty outlaws
that zoomed through the Lawful Sector didn’t even attempt it. Unlike the
unlucky females from other places that had been kidnapped or hurt. Now that she
thought more about it, there was never a report of a Daamen female or child
being taken or hurt. Or a Daamen male.
What an idiot she’d been. Briefly she closed her eyes.
Daamens were never captured because they stood together and never relaxed their
guard when away from Daamen. It was a safe planet to be on and they took care
of each other.
Because of what had happened to her? Could it be true?
There was one way to find out the answer. Aunt Sarrah.
“Tenia?” She called up the staircase.
“Aye?”
“How long will you be?”
“An hour or so. I have to round up Vulya as well as
Darvk. My sister warriors love to see the babes so we all go. Which means, of
course, so does a lot of baby gear.” A laugh floated to Sabra’s ears.
“I’ll be back soon.”
There was several seconds of silence, then, “One
hour.”
“I’ll be here, don’t worry.”
Eleven
The Reeka settlement was situated in farming country.
Livestock grazed in green pastures and low, sprawling dwellings built of stone
nestled upon rich, fertile land. A river moved along lazily in the distance and
day flyers chirped and swooped amongst the tree tops.
In the fields Sabra saw warrior women toiling, the sun
shining down upon their strong bodies as they hefted bales of hay with ease.
Amongst them were men and several children, all helping.
“Seems your race is a forgiving one, Tenia.”
“Think you? Some still harbor resentment but most are
happy to resume their lives. All know that hatred can’t continue to control our
lives.”
Sabra cast her a sidelong glance. “Even though so many
of you were slaughtered?”
“And hunted by your kind.” Reya strode past her down
the ramp and out into the sunshine, her daughter prancing between her and
Maverk.
“And yet you’re so nice to me.”
“Is that irony I hear, lass?” Darvk ruffled her hair
before placing a gentle arm around his wife and steering her down the ramp. “I
think I see Jonette awaiting you, my love.”
Sabra watched the closeness between the Reekas as they
were greeted by their sister warriors, their children picked up and hugged
before being put down to run off squealing with delight amongst the other
children. The Daamens were greeted with affection. Aye, the Reekas had a bloody
history, but it would seem they had overcome it.
A young bright-eyed warrior with coal-black hair in a
high plait took Tenia by the arm. “How goes it, sister?”
“Good, Jonette. Has your man spoken for you yet?”
A blush crept into rounded cheeks. “Well, I--”
“Don’t worry, Tenia. If he doesn’t soon, she’ll carry
him off into the woods and have her wicked way with him.”
“You can keep quiet, Senna.”
“Oooh. Look at those red cheeks! Hey, Simon, wouldn’t
you say those cheeks are red?”
The big trader peered closely at the flushed face.
“Oh, aye, defiantly red. But don’t fret, lass. Point this lucky fellow out to
me and I’ll have a little chat to him, tell him how fond you are of him and--”
“Back off, trader. Neither of you will say a word to
him, understand?”
“I did offer, too, Simon,” Senna said mournfully.
“She’s so ungrateful.”
“No understanding the mind of a lass.” He shook his
head sadly, caught the changing expression on the warrior’s face and cleared
his throat. “What I meant was--I didn’t--not you, Senna--”
Maverk guffawed. “Too late, friend. You’re in the
proverbial now!”
Leaving Simon attempting to make amends to Senna, who
was giving him a sound telling off, the rest of the group made for the huge
table in the center of the settlement. Upon it was laid out great jugs of berry
juice and cold water and platters of fruit. Some of the warriors returned to
the fields, some never left, merely waving a greeting, but four remained,
sitting themselves around the table with Tenia and Reya.
“Conference time,” Darvk informed Sabra. “What say we
go for a tour?”
“Before you do,” Tenia smiled at Sabra, “I wish you
all to meet my cousin. This is Sabra.”
Silence descended on the table as four pairs of eyes
swept the newcomer with a thoroughness that would have made a lesser person
uncomfortable. Sabra merely met their gazes with cool indifference.
“So,” a young redheaded warrior mused. “The bounty
hunter.”
“Cormac’s protégée,” Reya supplied with cold
amusement. “You remember him, don’t you, Aster?”
“Rather hard to forget.”
“Say what you will, Cormac was like a father to me.”
A regally beautiful warrior leaned forward. “Oh-ho,
the little hunter has some loyalty in her. Now that ‘tis unusual. Where’d you
learn that?”
“In the Outlaw Sector, but then, you’d know all about
that, wouldn’t you?”
“Tut-tut, we’re pardoned, remember? That makes all the
difference. What’s your excuse?”
“Are you spoiling for a fight, warrior? Be assured,
I’m more than game to take you up on it.”
“I wouldn’t advise it, Diona.” Reya sipped
nonchalantly from a glass of berry juice. “The wench is related to us through
marriage. It wouldn’t look good to have in-fighting.”
“Damn. Oh well.” Diona gave a lopsided smile. “You’re
safe, hunter.”
“I’m so relieved.”
Chuckling, Darvk placed a hand on Sabra’s shoulder and
steered her away. “Come on, lass. Let’s leave the warriors to their meeting and
have a wander around.”
After several minutes of meandering through the
spacious settlement, Sabra gestured out to the fields. “I see men out there.
So, ‘tis true, the Reekas have accepted them back into their midst.”
“Men have married back into the race, aye.”
“I’m surprised. I would have thought bitter memories
would have erased the willingness to deal with those that turned their backs on
them.”
“The Reeka males died a long time ago, lass. Most of
them stayed with their womenfolk until they died, refusing to believe the worst
of them. Can you blame the rest of the planets for believing the worst of the
Reekas when the evidence was so damning?”
“I know the history, Darvk. The lies and setups, the
cruelty, the way everyone turned their backs on the warriors. All I’m saying is
that I couldn’t be as forgiving.”
Vivid blue eyes glanced down at her. “But many of
these men you see out in the fields are ordinary settlers. They had little to
do with the atrocities committed. The ones at fault have been dealt with long
ago. Justice was done. Why continue the hatred against those who were
ignorant?”
“I would say resentment still lingers. After all,
bounty hunters aren’t really liked, are they?”
“With good reason.”
“You don’t hold back, do you?”
“I’m being truthful.”
“So let’s continue. They won’t accept me because of
who I am.”
“Actually, they do accept you because of who you are.”
“Bounty hunter.”
“Daamen.”
“The warrior Diona was ready to have a piece of me. Do
you deny it?”
“She has more self-control than you think. They don’t
go around looking for hunters to tear apart, you know.”
“I’ve heard of clashes between them. ‘Twas less than
three months ago that a group of Reeka warriors had a brawl with some friends
of mine.”
“Ah well, sometimes when their paths cross, a few
hotheads on either side will end up having a free-for-all.”
“So all is not forgiven.”
Laughing, Darvk reached over and ruffled her hair.
“Always the last word, wench! Some things never change.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Irritated, she stepped out of
reach.
Still chuckling, Darvk led her over to the fields
where they leaned against the fence and watched several children round up a
herd of cows and take them into the next field. Bales of hay were stacked
neatly on hover trays that skimmed just above the ground to the big sheds,
where the men waited to unload.
The atmosphere was one of hard work and contentment,
friends and lovers. Families. Once hunted and now returned home.
She was one of the hunters.
“Tell me,” Darvk leaned one arm against the fence and
turned to face her, “don’t you wish for a peaceful existence such as this?”
For several minutes she didn’t answer. When she did,
her voice was expressionless. “There are things I have to do.”
“But after?”
“There has never been a thought of peace in my
future.” She pushed away from the fence. “There are killers out there, always
will be, and ‘tis people such as myself that will hunt them down and bring them
to justice.”
“You’ll grow older and slower. One day a killer will
be that much faster than you. It’s happened once already--”
“He wasn’t faster!” Cobalt eyes flashed fire. “More
cunning. But I learn fast and Death won’t get me until I get him. As God is my
witness, Darvk, I will kill that bastard. He is mine!”
Sadly he watched her stride back to the trading ship
without a glance to the left or right. It seemed there was no changing her
mind, and he wasn’t so sure he could handle letting her go back into danger
and--he didn’t fool himself--oblivion. He felt it deep down inside himself.
Once she left Daamen, she wouldn’t seek her kinfolk out again. Only a miracle
could make her do that.
~ * ~
Walking up the ramp, Sabra nodded to the traders sitting
in the cargo hold on several barrels and playing cards.
“Here.” Shamon nudged a crate. “Take a seat and play a
few hands, lass.”
“Nay. I--”
“Everyone knows wenches can’t play poker worth a
damn.” Jase winked at
Sabra’s eyes went to the dark-haired trader, absently
noticing the wild curls spilling over the massive shoulders to hang
tantalizingly over the smooth, bare chest revealed by the open, sleeveless
vest.
A grin curved sensuous lips. “Oh aye, little lasses
have no idea of cards. Especially good little wenches. ‘Twould be better if you
went up to the dining cabin and made us something to eat.”
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. She had no dinnos with
which to buy things needed. This could be one way...
“Good idea,” Shamon agreed. “I forgot. My apologies,
Sabra. You leave these cards to us and go do something good.”
“A cup of hot una.”
“Deal me a hand.” Swinging her leg over the crate, she
sat down.
“Now don’t feel pressured, lass. We’re very
understanding of our protected lasses.”
“Aye,” Jase nodded. “We even protect them from
getting involved in nasty games.”
It was more than obvious that her talk with Tenia had
somehow gotten back to these traders. They were making fun of her and
thoroughly enjoying it. She intended to teach them a lesson and win some dinnos
along the way. “Instead of talking, give me the cards and I’ll shuffle.”
“Oh, the wee lass wants to shuffle.” Snickering,
Shamon handed her the deck. “We’ll understand if you drop them.”
Lips twitching,
Seeing the gleam in the dark eyes, Sabra raised one
brow. “What’s the going stake, gents?”
“My, she even talks like she knows the lingo.” Jase
fluttered his lashes.
“Who’s going to stake you, anyway?” Shamon queried. “I
don’t recall you having any dinnos.”
“But I’m Darvk’s little cousin, remember?” A smirk
curled her soft lips. “He’s so fond of saying it all the time, I think I’ll
take the big protector up on it.”
Grins flashed around the three traders.
“I can’t wait to collect my winnings.” Jase rubbed his
hands. “Shuffle and deal, lass!”
“I can’t wait to see his face,” Shamon guffawed.
Laying the pile face-down on the barrel between them,
Sabra blew softly on her palms then rubbed them together briskly before cutting
the deck into three piles, which she then placed on top of each other. This
was when the fun began. Casting each trader a long look, seeing the twinkle
in their eyes, she allowed a feeling of immense satisfaction to flow through
her. “You really shouldn’t underestimate your opponent, boys.”
“We’ll be nice to you, lass,”
“I’m sorry I can’t say the same for me.” Lifting the
cards, she fanned them out briskly, snapped them together and shuffled with
skill and speed.
The trader’s mouths dropped open as she snapped her
hands apart and the cards seemed to dance between her palms, spreading out and
dropping quickly. With lightening speed she ran her palm beneath the falling
cards, collecting them in a pile with a dexterity that left them gaping in
wonderment.
“Pretty tricks, lass.” Shamon finally got his awe
under control, “But now the real skill begins.”
“Skill?”
“Aye, the cunning, the planning, the--”
“Bluffing. All ‘tis is good bluffing and chance
taking.” With quick efficiency she dealt out the cards. “Know when to take it
and when to walk away.” Gathering up her hand, she dealt them a quick glance
before looking around at the traders. “Let’s go.”
At first the men played nicely, giving her chances,
but when it became clear that she was more than willing to take the chances and
double her winnings, they started to bluff. She met the bluffs with a
fearlessness that matched their own and it wasn’t long before they regarded her
as an equal adversary.
The sparkle that dawned in the cobalt eyes was noted
by
Jase winked at Shamon as he noticed his young friend
lose another hand that should have been easily won. Shamon smirked when
“A bit preoccupied there, friend?” Jase drawled.
“Not enough to lose to you,”
“Lovely scenery, though, wouldn’t you say?” Shamon
asked innocently. “I think so. Don’t you think so, Jase?”
“Oh aye, I think so. I also think--”
“I think you should just shut up and play,”
“Aye,” Sabra agreed, only half listening, her eyes on
another winning hand. “Shall we up the stakes?”
They continued playing for several minutes before Jase
finally threw his cards down in disgust. “I’m out.”
“Me, too.” Shamon folded his arms, scowling. “You’re a
card shark, wench.”
“I’m ruthless when the chips are down, friend,” she
replied without taking her eyes from the cards in her hand. “Makes me a good
hunter. Shall we double the stake,
Glancing from his pile of dinnos to hers,
“That’s what poker is all about. Winner takes all.”
“I’ll feel bad if I beat you.”
“‘Tis what Alen used to say. I used to promise him one
favor if I cleaned him out.” Her expression darkened slightly at the
realization of what she’d said.
Unable to bear the sudden glimpse of sadness in her
eyes,
“What is?”
“If you clean me out, I’ll have a favor from you.”
“Wait a minute, I never offered that to you.”
“Why not? Are you so sure I’ll win?” He cocked one
brow teasingly. “I promise that if I win, I’ll grant you a favor.”
“You can’t renege on this, lass,” Jase claimed, seeing
a chance to make things more interesting--especially for his friend.
“I’m not reneging--”
“One favor,” Shamon pressed. “Or is that too much to
ask of a lass?”
“Trying to make me angry won’t work, trader. I don’t
fall for that crap.”
“Didn’t think it would. However, we understand.
Mayhaps you’re afraid of what
“Oh, for the stars’ sake!” Catching
“What did Alen ask of you?”
“I always ended up cleaning his collection of
crossbows.”
Shamon pulled a face.
Jase chortled. “Knowing
“Is that it?” she demanded.
He raised one brow calmly. “Sounds good to me.”
“‘Tis official!” Jase crowed. “The bet’s on!”
“Deal me in.”
His friends watched as cards were shuffled and dealt,
hands picked up and studied.
“So,”
“So.”
“Who first?”
“Feeling lucky?” Laughter edged the words.
For the first time the traders saw genuine amusement
on her face and sparkling in her eyes. It could only mean one thing--she had to
have a winning hand, no holds barred. There was no other reason she could be
laughing at
“Shit!”
“Two pairs.” Shamon raised his brows. “High numbers.”
“What did you have?” Jase inquired. “Has to be a royal
flush.”
With immense satisfaction, Sabra neatly laid the cards
on the table and proceeded to rake her winnings into a neat little pile before
her.
The traders gaped at the pitiful hand. Not one pair
amongst them, not one joker or queen...
“Bluff, gents.” Cupping the coins in her hands, she
stood up and made for the platform lift. “The skill is in the bluff. Thank you
for the little game, I did so enjoy it. Must do it again later, hmm?”
“I don’t think so,” Shamon muttered darkly.
Watching the platform clank out of sight,
“You’re looking pleased with yourself,” Maverk
observed, walking up the ramp.
“He won a favor.” Shamon grinned.
“Good. I think.”
“From Sabra.”
“Really?” One hand raked through tousled blonde hair
and his brown eyes twinkled. “Well done. What’s the favor? And please let it be
something I’ll be proud of.”
“I don’t know about you,”
Laughter echoed around the cargo hold.
“When you’ve finished cackling and gossiping like
elderly traders, mayhaps we can get a move on?” Reya followed her husband up
the ramp. “I believe Darvk has some trading he wants to conduct at Benyos.”
“And he’s kindly offered us a lift there and back.”
Diona entered the cargo hold behind her sister warrior, Jonette on her heels.
~ * ~
Benyos was a large settlement heavily populated by
merchants. The markets were teeming with people but most gave way to the giant
traders and the tall warriors as they strode through the busy streets.
Although tall herself, Sabra felt small in comparison
with her companions. She wasn’t used to having women taller than herself, but
found that she barely reached the shoulders of the Reekas. She would have
actually felt overlooked except that the traders kept so close to her that she
could reach out and touch them. When the crowds forced them to move
single-file, she found herself firmly wedged in with Red in front of her and
When they came to a halt, she could feel the heat from
“Pardon?” His gaze dropping to her face, he leaned
forward to better hear her.
“Being so close.”
“Sorry, lass, I can’t hear you with this ruckus going
on.” He bent down, his head beside hers. “What’s wrong?”
His breath was warm against her cheek and a clean,
wholly masculine smell tantalized her senses. Through the thin fabric of her
tunic she could feel his chest brush her back and the contact sent a shiver
through her.
About to answer, she was suddenly jostled and
For a fleeting instance, the gesture made her feel
safe and cherished, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. One she
couldn’t afford to dwell on now. For God’s sake, she was a bounty hunter,
not a sweet little Daamen wench!
About to twist away, she suddenly felt him release
her.
“All right?” Red asked.
Sabra looked up to find that he was directing his
query at
For a second he looked puzzled, then he grinned
good-naturedly. “Sorry. Forgot.”
“Everything’s fine.”
Red faced forward again and they started to move.
“This is ridiculous.” Sabra stopped suddenly, only to
have the surge of the crowd almost push her onto the ground. “Damn it!”
Twelve
“Sorry, lass. ‘Tis second nature to watch out for our
lasses. Or any lasses, come to that.”
“So go watch out for other lasses then,” she retorted ungraciously
before flouncing forward.
“I’d rather watch out for you,” he murmured.
“What?” She glanced back over her shoulder.
“Nothing,” he replied loudly enough for her to hear,
grinning when she scowled and continued onward.
His gaze dropped to the sway of her rounded hips
beneath the simple tunic. ‘Twas true, he would rather be with her. His
protectiveness seemed stronger around her, as though her personal safety was
his sole responsibility.
Was Darvk right? Was there more to this than just
friendship? Though the stars knew, the wench didn’t want his friendship! Which didn’t make any difference to him. Wherever she
went, he was always close by her side. He couldn’t seem to help himself. It was
something he’d noticed more since speaking to Darvk in the stables. Even
claiming her as his wife didn’t sound so bad, now that he’d got over the shock
of stating it in the heat of the moment.
The crowd surged harder and he moved closer to Sabra,
ready to draw her into his sheltering embrace if need be, regardless of her
protests. He could still feel the imprint of her body against his, the curve of
her buttocks pressed to his thighs, the scent that drifted up to delight his
senses. For one insane moment, he’d actually contemplated wrapping one arm
around her and tucking her safely into his side. He could imagine how well that
would have gone down! A chuckle escaped him.
Darvk stopped at one of the merchants with Tenia and
Red while the other traders accompanied Diona and Jonette, leaving Maverk and
Reya haggling with a fruit merchant.
Sabra was content to simply meander along behind the
others, until a jewelry stall caught her attention and she stopped before it.
“Something you wish to buy, missy?” The merchant
stepped forward eagerly, his gaze sweeping the pretty young woman. She was a
Daamen, it was easy to see. She had the height--and the protective giant right
behind her. And everyone knew these giant traders were more than generous when
it came to buying things for their women. “Rings? A necklace perhaps?”
“Nay. Just looking.”
“Please, be my guest. If anything interests you, I can
remove it from the display case for your perusal.”
Peering over her shoulder,
“Interested in it, lass?”
“Nay, ‘tis just Mother had one like it once. I
remember...” With a shrug she moved away. “Come on.”
Long legs ate up the short distance she’d put between
them and he came up beside her, forcing a wider path. Several scowls were sent
his way but upon seeing the dangerous-looking giant, the scowls were replaced
with nervous grins of apology.
Seeing the haggling going on between the merchants and
traders, Sabra was keenly aware suddenly of her heritage. They thrived on this
exchange of goods, the pitting of wits for the best price on wares to be resold
elsewhere. Daamens were known and respected traders throughout the galaxy.
Those that had at first thought to take advantage of the good-natured giants
were soon disillusioned. Fools they weren’t, but bloody good fighters they
were. Their reputation proceeded them.
And protectors of the innocent, Sabra thought, shaking her head mentally. ‘Twas
lucky they had brains to match their brawn.
Jase returned to discuss a new trading contract a
merchant had put to him for
“Where is he?”
“Over there.” Jase pointed to a wooden building. “He’d
like to discuss it with you now.”
“Sure.”
“Mind what? You talking to him or me having to
accompany you?”
Dark eyes laughed at her. “Both.”
“Lead on, oh protector.”
“Tart wench.” He playfully tugged her ponytail before
steering her in the direction of the building.
Once inside, she positioned herself near the window so
she could watch the passersby while the traders conducted their business.
Minutes ticked past while
Her eyes glided over a man passing by and awareness
flared to life. Instantly she refastened her gaze upon him and a prickle went
through her. Something was wrong. This man was something other than an
ordinary settler. The way he carried himself, and his hands that twitched
against his trousered legs as though seeking something not there. He turned his
head fleetingly and she saw his face.
Well, well, well. If she recognized him correctly... A quick glance showed
He moved with the prowl of a man not used to being
unarmed, though she sincerely doubted he carried no weapon upon him. Possibly a
knife in his boot or up his sleeve. That was the style of this outlaw. Why was
he here in the Lawful Sector?
Leaving the market place behind, he walked through the
alley into the next street, down the boardwalk and into a tavern. Sliding from
the shadows, she stepped up onto the boardwalk and peered in through the
window. The tavern was half full and she could barely make anything out through
the dirty, stained glass. Not willing to walk straight into danger, she quickly
moved around to the back of the building and, after ensuring that the hall was
empty, entered through the back door.
Breathing lightly, listening keenly for any odd
sounds, she walked steadily onward until she came to the doorway leading into
the barroom of the tavern. Passing through it, she leaned against the wall and
scanned the crowd attentively, trying to find the outlaw. Finally she spotted
him but was content for the moment to simply stand and observe his companions. And
how about that? They were outlaws, too. Three of them here in the Lawful
Sector, as bold as brass. If they lurked here, then something big was up.
She had no weapon, no backup, and no real idea how
many more might be in this tavern. ‘Twas time to seek out the peacekeepers.
A sharp prick nicked at her back. “Going somewhere,
hunter?”
Well, hell.
“Dressed all pretty like this, I didn’t recognize you.
But that blonde streak, now.” The fetid breath made her nose twitch. “I’d know
that anywhere. And them lovely eyes.”
“No point denying it then, is there?” She started to
turn her head but the prick pierced her tunic to press painfully against her
skin.
“Stay still, hunter, else I might slide this blade
right between your ribs.”
“And I might yell for my friends.”
A chilling laugh mocked her. “Those particular ones
are dead and you’re alone here. I followed you in. So I’d say you’re at my
mercy now.”
“No need to waste time in niceties then, is there?”
In the one movement, she slammed her elbow back into
the outlaw’s stomach while throwing herself forward, out of the way of the
dagger. Her attacker grunted and fell back against the wall.
In a crouch, she gained her balance, only to find
herself eye-to-eye with a laser barrel.
“The hunter.” An outlaw with ruthless eyes shook his
head. “Tut-tut, what are you doing here? I heard you were dead.”
The tavern fell silent, the settlers pressing back
against the bar. A few started for the door, only to find a hulking outlaw
there with laser drawn.
“Everybody back against the wall and bar,” he snarled.
“Or I’ll shoot.”
“Seems you heard wrong.” Sabra lifted her gaze from
the laser to meet the outlaw’s gaze.
“Or maybe you really are Hell’s bitch and the Devil spat
you back?”
“Fredrico, you are one superstitious bastard.”
“And you’re a foul-mouthed carrion eater, yet
strangely enough, I quite like you.”
“Can’t say I’m honored.” She eyed the laser. “Are you
going to shoot or what?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Fredrico stepped back. “Come
forward, hunter. Into the middle of the room where we can get a good look at
you.”
He was crafty enough to keep out of arms reach yet
maintain control of the laser, the barrel aimed directly at her forehead.
Glancing around, she saw that two more outlaws stood to the side, one with a
dagger in hand.
“Getting a good look?” Amusement glinted in Fredrico’s
eyes. “Stop right there.”
“Five outlaws in the Lawful Sector. Now that makes me
curious, it really does.”
“Curiosity killed the bounty hunter.”
“But I’m back from the dead, remember?”
“How could I forget?”
“So humor me.” She leveled a steady look at him.
“Especially when one of you is a pirate.”
A gasp swept the barroom and immediately the hulking
outlaw raised his laser, snarling a warning. The noise subsided but more than
one settler started to tremble.
“So observant, Sabra! Tell me, did your friends
survive as well?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“I hear some other friends left that little settlement
a smoldering ruin. Seems not everyone is happy to hear of your ‘death’. I know
I wasn’t.”
“How touching.”
“I rather thought I’d like to meet you face-to-face
one day.”
“On the end of a rope?”
“Now don’t be so nasty, lady.”
“What are we going to do with the hell-bitch?” The
downed outlaw dragged himself up painfully, glaring.
“Good question.” Musingly, he studied her.
Balancing lightly on the balls of her feet, Sabra
listened for the approach of the outlaw and sure enough, he was close behind.
“I’ll fix her!” the outlaw roared, and rushed forward,
dagger swinging.
Swiftly she spun to face him, grabbing hold of his
thick wrist to push the dagger away while grabbing hold of his shirt as she did
so with her other hand. Allowing the momentum to carry her backward, she
dropped flat and rolled, using the outlaw’s weight to carry him up over her
body and head, using her feet to thrust him onward.
He spun once, crying out, before landing with a
muffled oath on his back.
Swiftly bringing her feet flat to the floor, she used
her hands to thrust upright, spinning to face the other outlaw coming straight
at her, but not in time to dodge the fist that slammed into her jaw. Pain
rocked through her and she stumbled back several paces from the sheer force.
The outlaw growled in satisfaction and followed
through with an uppercut, which she managed to dodge just in time. He’d left
himself wide open and she retaliated swiftly, punching him hard in the gut and
raising her knee to connect with his face as he jack-knifed forward. Blood
spattered from his shattered nose and he screamed in agony.
A hand knotted in her hair, dragging her around
viciously to push her forward and slam her down onto a table. She managed to
break the fierceness of the intended blow with her forearms, only to feel
herself dragged backwards. Desperately she grabbed a bottle from the table,
smashing the end of it on the hard surface just before she was jerked back.
“I’ll kill you, bitch!” the outlaw roared.
Wasting no time, she jabbed backward over her shoulder
with the bottle, holding the neck in her hand while the sharp, jagged edges
gouged deeply into the outlaw’s face, shredding flesh.
He screamed and released her.
The hulking outlaw left his post at the door, surging
forward with all the brutal intentions of a bloodthirsty killer.
Now she just might be in trouble.
Ignoring the jagged bottle as it sliced his arm, the
outlaw lunged forward to catch her around the waist and bring her crashing down
onto the table behind her. It broke beneath their combined weight, the wood
splintering.
His weight was heavy on her and desperately she
twisted, rolling atop him but he rolled with her, bringing her beneath him once
more, almost crushing her with his heaviness, and driving the breath from her.
“Now.” Sneering, he reached for the broken bottle,
“Let’s see how pretty you look after I slice you up a little, hunter.”
“Leave some for me.” The outlaw with the shattered
nose spat blood. “I want a piece of that hell-bitch!”
“Barj!” Fredrico snapped. “The hunter is mine! Leave
her!”
The bottle slashed down and Sabra just managed to
knock his arm aside in time, feeling the jagged glass slice inches from her
cheek. Grabbing his wrist as he slashed down a second time, she battled to keep
the sharp shards from her face and he laughed cruelly.
“Leave her!” Fredrico snarled, raising the laser to
aim at the outlaw. “Or I’ll--”
A roar rent the air, the very rage in it thundering
around the room even as the sound of the tavern door ripping from the hinges
shrieked through the room. The settlers saw the enraged giant pound into the
room, long legs eating up the distance towards the grappling couple on the
floor.
Mindless of the presence of the other outlaws, one
holding a laser,
Startled, Barj looked up--and up--into a dangerous
face whose eyes blazed with fury. The blood left his face in a rush as he
realized who he was in the grip of.
“Fredrico!” he shrieked. “Shoot! Goddamn it, shoot!”
“You dare to hurt my lass?”
“Fredrico! Help--”
The words were cut off by a massive fist smashing into
his face. Pain exploded, scarlet pouring from the mashed lips, followed by more
blood spurting from the broken nose as the fist hit him once more.
At the sight of the outlaws diverted by the arrival of
the giant Daamen, the settlers acted, running for the door in a panicked wave.
Regaining her breath and cursing, Sabra started to
push herself upright, trying to keep her eyes on Fredrico, but the rush of
bodies blocked him from sight, while the other outlaws disappeared amongst the
crowd.
“Nay! Stop!” she yelled. “Fredrico! Shit!”
A strong arm slid behind her back and
She didn’t answer, her gaze sweeping the room to catch
a glimpse of Fredrico as he disappeared down the hallway. Instantly she took
off after him but was hampered by the settlers, dodging them, getting caught up
momentarily in the push of the crowd before plunging free and down the hall.
There was no fear that the pirate would fire his
laser, she knew. He would try and get away without drawing attention to
himself. Ignoring the sound of Cam calling her, she ran down the hall and burst
out into the bright sunlight, spinning around once to take in the surroundings.
It was empty. Without pause, she darted down the alley and skidded to a halt in
the dusty street to scan the area.
Swearing, she took in the seething mass of settlers,
hearing the excited calls and queries.
It was too late. The pirate was wily enough to lose
himself in the crowd, taking the other outlaws with him. If the other hunters
were here, they’d search them out, but she was alone.
Even as the thought was made, a big body moved quickly
past to place itself between her and the street, and she found herself gazing
up into
“What the hell’s going on?”
“Nothing. Now.”
“Something was.” His gaze searched her face, then
gently he reached out and tilted her chin up with one finger to inspect the
darkening bruise marring the smooth skin. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” The gentleness was now in his voice.
“Of course. I--”
“Sabra?
“‘Tis naught to concern yourself with--”
“Where is the bastard,
“I’ve already dealt with him.” He jerked a thumb in
the direction of the tavern. “But it’d seem there was more than one.”
“There was five,” a wide-eyed settler intervened. “And
the one you nearly killed wasn’t the one who hit her.”
“What do you mean?”
“That one was trying to slash her with the bottle, but
she fought him. She fought them all!” Admiration filled the man’s face as he
looked at the pretty Daamen with interested eyes. “Damn, what a woman!”
Dark eyes narrowed warningly and the settler was
suddenly alarmed to find himself looking up into two menacing faces. When he
caught sight of Jase and Red coming to stand beside Sabra, their gazes
piercing, he paled even more and backed away.
“Er-well, I’d better go--”
“It would be wise,”
Realizing why the settler left hurriedly, Sabra
frowned.
“Let’s get you to a safe place first, then I want some
answers.” Darvk stepped back to allow her to pass him.
“So do I,” a new voice said.
Turning around, they saw the three peacekeepers
standing nearby. On the ground between them lay the outlaw, his hands tied. He
was still unconscious, face bloodied. To the side stood Reya, Tenia and Diona.
Immediately, Cam stepped partially in front of Sabra.
“Did you find the others?”
Tenia shook her head. “We’ve searched but there’s no
sign of them.”
“Besides which, the settlers appear to have different
opinions as to which direction they went in,” Diona scowled.
“There were others?” The sergeant of the peacekeepers
frowned.
“Aye,” Reya replied coldly. “So I suggest you get the
word out.”
“We’ll get descriptions from those who saw them.” He
glanced from Sabra to Cam standing protectively before her. “Is your woman all
right?”
“I’m not his--” Sabra began irritably.
“Aye,”
“Good. What happened?”
Resenting being overlooked, Sabra pushed past
The peacekeeper’s brows rose. “Is that so?”
“Aye.”
He exchanged glances with his partners before
returning his gaze to her. “We will certainly investigate this matter--”
“Then you’d better get a move on, because there’s
something big brewing here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Five outlaws in the Lawful Sector. Think about it.”
“Outlaws do show now and again--”
“Five of them? In the open? Come on, you can do better
than that.”
Irritation flickered across his face. “I appreciate
your concern--”
The tone of his voice made
“Like hell you do.” She nudged the unconscious outlaw
with her foot. “This is Barj, wanted for rape and murder. The bounty on him is
ten thousand dinnos. The other outlaws are wanted for similar.”
“How do you know that?”
Her smile was mocking. “Oh, I’m more than just a
simple wench, Sergeant. I’m a bounty hunter and I know my prey.”
Startled, he cast a disbelieving glance at the
traders. “Is she speaking true?’
Darvk’s jaw tightened as he admitted reluctantly,
“Aye.”
“But she’s a Daamen!”
“Aye.”
“But--”
“Forget about that,”
The sergeant blinked several times at Sabra before
shaking his head and transferring his gaze to
“He won’t talk easily,” Sabra said. “And you’d be wise
to keep a close eye on him.”
“He won’t escape the cells, have no fear.”
“Alive he won’t.”
“Do you know something we don’t?”
A contemptuous smile curled soft lips. “Annoyed, aye?
I can tell you’re unused to having a female talk straight to you. Aye, I know
something. One of the five was a pirate, as deadly as you’d ever want to meet.
This outlaw will be out of the cells by tomorrow--either physically or
spiritually.”
“You mean his friends will kill him if they can’t free
him?”
“Friends don’t exist in the Outlaw Sector. That’s
exactly what I mean.”
His eyes narrowed. “He won’t escape and no one will
get in. I have men searching this settlement. If they’re still here, we’ll find
them. If we don’t, then it means they’re long gone.”
“Don’t be so sure. I know this pirate.”
Anger flared in his eyes. “Be that as it may, this is
my settlement and I’ll do as I see fit.”
“Then you’re a fool if you don’t take my warning.”
“Listen, bounty hunter, and listen good. You keep your
nose out of this and let me do my job. I won’t tolerate interference,
understand?”
Folding her arms, she eyed him coolly. “With an
attitude like that, you’re a dead man.”
“Are you threatening me?” He bristled.
Thirteen
Darvk and
“This bounty hunter is my cousin and knows of what she
speaks,” Darvk stated. “I’d listen to her advice.”
“Bounty hunter or not, this is my job,” the sergeant
returned sourly. “I’ll interrogate the prisoner and be in touch with your
cousin in due course. I take it I can contact you on Daamen?”
“Are you talking to me or Darvk now?” Sabra drawled.
“You,” he replied brusquely.
“Shouldn’t you get a description of the other outlaws
from me now? A statement about the fight?” Her eyes gleamed a challenge.
“Something to assist you, mayhaps?”
It was obvious to all that she was openly baiting the
sergeant now. Unsure of why,
“I don’t need reminding of how to do my job--”
“Of course. I could tell that by how knowledgeably
you’re handling this.”
He took a step forward, his hands curling into fists,
but the sudden menace on the giants’ faces made him pull up short. Goddamn
bounty hunters. The sad fact was that this lone hunter was also a Daamen.
There was no way he was going to insult her with her giant kinsmen standing
beside her. Or the giant who claimed her, dark eyes glittering a dangerous
warning.
A glance to the side resulted in meeting cold green
eyes, a chillness aimed right at him. She also had the deadly Reeka warrior
women on her side, curse it.
Taking a deep breath, he nodded to his partners.
“Let’s get this outlaw to the cells. You, hunter, can come and give us what you
think we need to know.”
“I’m so honored.” Sarcasm dripped from the words. “If
you’re sure that’s how this investigation should be conducted?”
Gritting his teeth, he spun on his heel and strode
away.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“She’s a bounty hunter,” Reya drawled. “He’s a
peacekeeper. They don’t always get on.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I have to go with the sergeant.” Sabra started to
move away, her eyes gleaming. “He needs a little help.”
“You’re not going alone,” Darvk stated.
“I’m going with her.”
They regarded each other steadily, an understanding
passing between them.
With a faint nod, Darvk stepped back, looping an arm
around Tenia’s waist. “I’ll oversee the loading of our purchases into the cargo
hold. Take Red and Jase with you, I don’t like to think there are outlaws on
the loose with Sabra on their minds.”
“It won’t be the first time,” she said. “I can take
care of myself.”
“Like what just happened?”
With a snort Sabra strode off,
“I can’t wait to see this.” Red grinned and hurried
off to join them, Jase following with a snort of laughter.
~ * ~
Rather than sit at the desk as indicated by the
sergeant, Sabra blithely plucked an apple from the basket of fruit sitting on
the corner, polished it on her tunic skirt briskly, and bit into it with
relish, all the while eyeing him with amusement.
Standing to the side,
“Right,” the sergeant growled, his hand hovering over
a keyboard attached to a computer screen. “How many?”
“Forgotten already? Five.”
His mouth tightened. “Outlaws--”
“One was a pirate.”
“Right.” Teeth clenched, he tapped several keys.
“Descriptions?”
“All together or one at a time?”
“Damn it! What do you think?”
Taking another bite of apple, she savored the fresh
taste while regarding him lazily. “You’re conducting the interview.”
“You bloody hunters--” Catching Cam’s hard eyes, he
bit back further words. “One at a time.”
“Pirate or outlaw first?”
His knuckles went white.
“I’ll choose for you, shall I? The pirate has blonde hair,
a moustache, blue eyes, five foot ten in height--are you getting all this?”
“Yes!”
“Just checking. There is another way, you know.”
“And what way would that be?” he snarled.
“I could just tell you his name.”
A muscle ticked in the sergeant’s jaw as he took a
fortifying breath. “And that is?”
“Fredrico.” Casually she leaned one hip against the
corner of the desk.
“Any other name?”
“Not that I know of--apart from bastard, bloodthirsty,
untrustworthy--oh, sorry, that’s not what you meant, is it?”
“Why don’t you just type in the descriptions and
anything else you might graciously decide to give me?” The chair scraped back
as the sergeant kicked it out of the way and folded his arms angrily.
“Oh dear, have I upset you?” She fluttered her lashes.
“Poor little female me?”
Moving up behind her,
“Afraid?” Resenting his quiet command, she cast him a
challenging glance over her shoulder.
“Those outlaws could be lurking anywhere--”
“Hiding,
The men watched as she seated herself behind the desk
and, after studying the screen, proceeded to tap the keys with a quick
efficiency that spoke of long practice. Writing scrolled down the screen, many
in different languages which she read silently before tapping more keys and
moving onward. Suddenly a screen of faces appeared and she zeroed in with an
intensity on two of them. Marking them, she continued on to yet another screen,
marking a third and fourth face. “Where’s your listing of pirates?”
“Listing?” the sergeant repeated.
“Aye, you know.” Taking another bite of apple, she
tapped the screen. “This is a list of known outlaws. What of your list of known
pirates?” She speared him with a mocking glance. “You do have one, don’t
you?”
“Of course,” he said tightly, and leaning down beside
her, pressed a key.
Immediately a list of names appeared. Pitifully few.
She cast him another mocking glance before returning her attention to scanning
the list.
Face flushed with annoyance, the sergeant stepped
back, only to meet dark eyes that glared at him. Taken aback, he nervously
shuffled to the side.
Red and Jase exchanged amused looks as
Oblivious to the body language going on around her,
Sabra chewed the bite of apple while skimming through the names. Fredrico
wasn’t listed and nor were many others she could name.
“You’re a bloody inept peacekeeper, Sergeant.”
He snapped to attention. “What the hell does that mean?”
“How long has it been since you updated your lists of
known outlaws and pirates?”
“That’s none of your business--”
“‘Tis the business of every bounty hunter and
peacekeeper, so guess what?” With a contemptuous flick of her wrist, she sent
the apple core spinning past him to land with unerring accuracy in the bin
against the wall. “‘Tis my business. Now when was the last time?”
Jaw clenched and nostrils flaring, the sergeant took
several deep breaths.
“Come now, you’re among friends.” Her teeth flashed in
a taunting grin. “Just think about it, I’m sure ‘twill come to you.”
“Goddamn it--”
“Mayhaps you should do so, before all those unknown
outlaws come knocking on your door.”
For a second
Face dull red and eyes flashing, he snarled, “If these
traders weren’t here, hunter, this would be a whole different scenario--”
“Don’t let their presence deter you,” was the airy
reply.
“Sabra,”
“Nay, let the man speak. You want to say or do
something, Peacekeeper? Bring it on, I’m ready.” Leaning back in the chair,
hands linked across her stomach, Sabra grinned at the enraged man.
“All right, lass, you’ve had your fun.”
The laughing look she threw over her shoulder at him
made his breath catch. “Scared,
“You should be. Did you get what you want?”
“Nay. You won’t let me play with him.”
Swearing, the peacekeeper threw up his hands and
stormed from the room.
Laughing uproariously, Sabra slapped the top of the
desk. Lips twitching, Jase and Red looked at
“‘Tis one man who won’t forget you in a hurry,” Red
said.
“No doubt he’ll try, though,” Jase grinned.
“What the hell are you playing at?”
“Just having some fun.” Wiping her eyes, Sabra turned
back to the screen. “God, that was good! I haven’t laughed so much in ages.”
“You’ll be laughing even less if you don’t hurry up
and finish this.”
“You think I’m scared of you?” Still chuckling, she
entered a command on the keyboard and sat back.
“Now what are you doing?”
“Don’t be so impatient, trader. I’m actually being
nice to that useless cretin and updating his files. Can you believe it?” She
shook her head. “It must be many months since his last update.”
“How can you tell that?”
“His files don’t contain many outlaws and pirates that
are now known to us. Bloody careless, I tell you.”
“Is that any excuse to antagonize him?”
“That was for fun.” Catching his disapproving
expression, she added, “Lighten up,
“I’m surprised you’ve lasted at all with your
attitude. That man was ready to throttle you.”
“He’s not the only one.” Her smile grew wider. “But
I’ve strangled all the others first.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I remember when you used to have a sense of humor.”
“I remember when yours wasn’t so warped.”
“Ooh, touchy.” Dancing eyes swept to the two grinning
traders. “When did he change?”
“Oddly enough, ‘twas when you came along,” Red
cheerfully informed her.
“Oh dear, did I destroy all his good nature?” She
patted
“You do have a way of making him act differently.”
Jase’s eyes twinkled.
Aware of the hidden meaning behind his friend’s words,
“Mustn’t keep him waiting, must we?” Glancing at the
screen, all traces of merriment faded away. Peering closer, she ran one finger
down the screen and read the names silently before leaning back thoughtfully.
“Well, well. How about that?”
“What’s wrong?” Leaning over her shoulder,
“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” Abruptly she stood up and
immediately collided with him.
Quickly he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her
against him in a steadying motion when she would have rocked back on her heels.
Their bodies came together in a warmth of movement, softness against hardness,
curves against muscle. Their gazes met and melded. Their surroundings faded
momentarily into oblivion as a flash of awareness arced between them. His other
hand came up to rest lightly against the back of her waist, pressing her
closer, savoring the feel of her. He felt as though he could drown in the
cobalt blue irises, and feast on the full pink lips that tempted him like a
starving man. Slowly he started to lower his head.
Jase’s discreet cough brought him to his senses.
Unfortunately, it did her, too. With a fierce scowl, she shoved out of his arms
but before she could deliver the tirade bubbling up inside her, the door flung
open to emit the peacekeeper.
“Are you finished?” he snarled.
“Aye,” Sabra snapped back. “Your files are updated and
I’d advise you to keep them so, you lazy bast--”
“That’s the way, lass,” Jase said heartily, catching
her arm while Red did the same to her other, pushing her hastily past the
glowering sergeant at
“Damn it, let me--”
“Go home? Aye, ‘tis where we’re headed.”
“Would you--”
“Isn’t it, Red?”
“What? Oh aye, home ‘tis where we’re going.” Red
hauled her out the door onto the verandah. “Or to the ship, to be more
precise.”
“Bloody imbec--”
A flash of inspiration came to Jase and he glanced at
Red. “Did you see what nearly happened back there?”
His friend was no fool. “When they nearly kissed, you
mean?”
“We did not!” Jerking her arms free, Sabra glared at
them.
“You did,” Red retorted.
“I almost fell and he simply caught me. We did not--”
“You did,” Jase insisted. “Here’s
Not wanting to even face the curly-haired trader with
her heart still thumping uncomfortably, Sabra stormed off in the direction of
the docking bays.
The traders caught up quickly with her, Cam moving up
on her left side and Red on her right, while Jase fell in behind.
“I don’t need to be surrounded!”
“While there’s a pirate out there after you--”
“He’s not after me!”
“You don’t know that.”
“I bloody know my pirates,
“I’m taking no chances. They weren’t exactly friendly
with you in the tavern.”
“Because I stumbled upon them, no other reason.”
“You could have been seriously hurt.”
Seeing the ship nearby, she fastened her pace. “Well,
I wasn’t.”
His stride lengthened easily. “Nay? You have a bruise
on your chin and goodness knows where else. I’ll check once we’re inside the
safety of the ship.”
“You bloody won’t!” She flashed him a searing glance.
“Lass, you have nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“With all the wenches you’ve bedded over the years,
I’ve no doubt you’ve seen everything!” Angrily she stomped up the ramp, passing
an interested Shamon and Diona. “But I’m going to disappoint you. You’re not
seeing what I have!”
She froze, one foot on the platform lift.
“Naked as the day you were born,” he couldn’t help
adding, some devil inside him driving him onward.
“Playing with fire.” Red rolled his eyes.
Hugely entertained by the whole thing, Jase leaned
against the wall and crossed his ankles and arms, eyes bright. Diona and Shamon
listened and watched unashamedly.
“Pretty as a lilis blossom,”
“Shut up!”
“Every curve, every mound--”
Cheeks burning, she swung around to face him. “I’m
warning you!”
“Silky smooth--”
“You’ve never seen me naked!”
“Who do you think looked after you on the trip home to
Daamen?”
“I...” She floundered.
“I tended your every need, lass.” He grinned
roguishly. “Every need.”
Diona’s brows rose inquiringly and she looked at
Shamon, who nodded avidly and repeated with enthusiasm, “Every need. Bed-baths
and all.”
Crimson flooded Sabra’s cheeks at the image of the
handsome rake bathing her, touching her... seeing her. With a curse, she
stepped back onto the platform lift and slammed her hand against the ascend
button.
“Now don’t be embarrassed, love,”
“Ooh, that was a particularly rude gesture.” Jase
guffawed as the platform rose out of sight. “I bet that wasn’t something you
imagined her doing with her fingers to you!”
“I can think of better things,” he murmured
absentmindedly, only realizing he’d said it aloud when howls of laughter rose
from his friends.
“You’ll be lucky if she even looks at you again,”
Diona said dryly.
“‘Tis more than just looking
Aye,‘twas. There was no denying it now. Seeing her in
such danger from the outlaws, remembering the rush of rage at the threat to
her, and his unfaltering claiming of her as his lass,
A shout sounded and Shamon looked out the door. “Here
comes Darvk and Maverk with the last of the cargo on hover trays. Come on,
let’s meet them and get this ship loaded. I’ve a hankering to go home.”
“Aye, the trip promises to be most entertaining.” Jase
leered at
~ * ~
Entering the large dining cabin, Darvk found his
cousin sprawled in one of the armchairs. Like the rest of the furniture, which
consisted of a long table with stools down either side, a long glass-topped
food cabinet on one side of the cabin, several armchairs, a low table, and
bookshelves on the other side of the cabin, it was fixed to the floor.
“Are you all right, lass?” Sitting in the armchair
opposite, he looped his arm around Tenia’s waist as she perched on the armrest.
“Of course,” Sabra replied sourly. “Why does everyone
keeping asking that?”
“The bruise on your chin?” Tenia suggested with a
raised brow. “The graze on your arm?”
“The possible marks on your back from breaking a table
with your body?”
“Ah, the hero of the hour.” Tenia smiled.
“I thank you for saving Sabra,” Darvk said quietly,
meeting
“‘Twas my privilege, friend.”
Irritably, Sabra drummed her fingers on the armrest.
“I didn’t need saving.”
Darvk fixed his gaze on her. “But I need some answers.
Now.”
“There’s no big secret. I recognized an outlaw on the
street, followed him, and ended up in the tavern.”
“‘Twas foolish to go alone.”
“Do you want an explanation or an argument?”
Tenia nudged her husband. “Go on.”
“I saw there were more outlaws there, recognized the
pirate but was recognized in turn. It went from there--”
“To a fight.”
“Aye. They all got away but one--and he’ll be dead or
gone by morn. If not already.”
“The peacekeepers have him--”
A derisive snort met this statement.
Unfazed, her cousin continued. “‘Tis their
responsibility now.”
“As long as they pay me, I couldn’t care what happens
to that outlaw.”
“Pay you?”
“Bounty. Ten thousand dinnos. I left my bounty number
on that useless drongo of a peacekeeper’s computer.”
Darvk stared at her in disbelief but a slow grin crept
across
She met his gaze stubbornly. “Technically, I was the
one who found him.”
“Technically, you were in no state to claim him.”
“Too late, trader, I already did.” She smiled nastily.
“Cormac raised no fool.”
“I doubt he’d approve of your little stunt today,”
Darvk said, concern and frustration battling for supremacy.
Sabra stood up slowly. “You have no idea what he
thought about anything. Now if you’ll excuse me?”
She left the cabin, trying to ignore the faint
throbbing of her knee. As soon as she turned into the corridor, a faint murmur
of voices broke out behind her. Her lips twisted mockingly. Discussing her
transgressions, no doubt.
But something was troubling her more than just what
her cousin thought of her. The outlaws. So many in one place. And the pirate,
Fredrico. It wasn’t normal, not for the Lawful Sector.
Seeing several traders coming up the corridor, she
stepped on to the platform lift and sent it rattling up to the top deck; to the
one place she could find seclusion. Once there, she walked into the solitude
cabin, her gaze taking in the bare room in one swift sweep. Aye, ‘twas as she
remembered it from her father’s ship. Two chairs were bolted to the floor
before a huge window that stretched the length of the cabin. Through the
reinforced glass she saw the infinite darkness of space filled with pinpricks
of light. Stars, planets. Some she’d been to, others she hadn’t.
One particularly bright star caught her attention,
growing bigger until it formed a planet with swirling yellow and green. Otar,
the first planet where she’d ever accompanied Cormac. ‘Twas there he’d taught
her to use a bullwhip. ‘Twas there her outer wounds had healed, her deeper
emotional wounds had closed over and her shattered confidence had slowly but
surely repaired itself.
A lump rose in her throat and she reached out for the
planet, placing her hand on the cold glass. The loss of her mentor tore at her,
surfacing fully for the first time. If he was alive, he would have saved her by
now. But he was dead, his head and body a mess of cuts and gouges, blood and
gore.
“Sabra?” The door opened behind her, light spilling in
from the silent corridor.
Taking a deep breath, she watched the reflection of
the man in the doorway move across the cabin towards her.
Fourteen
Stopping beside her,
“Have you come to talk about the view?” She kept her
eyes on the glass.
“I have always loved traveling,” he continued,
undeterred. “But I have also loved returning home. There’s no place like it.
Peaceful, happy.”
“Haven’t given up trying to convince me to stay on Daamen,
I see.”
“About what?”
“About what you’re thinking. Just now, when you were
touching the glass with such a longing look on your face. I saw your reflection.”
It was unnerving to have him almost at eye-level, his
steady gaze fastened on her. A shiver went through her. He was too close,
almost directly in front of her. She made to step back.
“Don’t.”
“What do you want,
“Exactly what I said. To know your thoughts.”
“I want to kill a murderer.”
“Now you’re just trying to divert me. I know you’re
upset about something.”
“Mind reader now, are you?” Intending to leave his
disturbing presence, she swung around, only to gasp aloud as her knee suddenly
buckled and threw her off balance.
In a lightening move,
“Damn it!” Laying her hand upon his broad shoulder,
she leaned against him momentarily. Regaining her balance, she lifted her foot
slightly from the ground to ease the pressure.
“Your knee pains you.”
“A twinge, nothing more.” Gritting her teeth, she
eased her foot back down.
“Let me see.”
“Give me a second and I’ll be right.”
Hunkering down before her,
The callused palm cupping the back of her knee was
unnerving. Intimate. “I’m okay, I tell you. There’s no need to fuss.”
She sucked her breath in as his other calloused palm settled atop her knee,
feeling gently.
Kneading carefully.
Massaging lightly.
Sending little hot darts up through her leg to...
“
Hearing the panic in her voice, he glanced up quickly.
“‘Tis all right, lass, I don’t think there’s any damage...”
Reassuring words were forgotten when he noticed her
expression. A faint blush tinged her cheeks. Dismay lurked in her eyes. Dismay
and awareness.
Of him. As a man.
His heart leaped. “Sabra--”
“Let go!” Desperately she pulled back, only to nearly
over-balance again.
“Easy, lass.” His large hands settled on her hips,
steadying her once more.
Automatically she braced her hands on his shoulders to
prevent herself from tumbling forward, and was alarmed to find herself close
enough to his face to almost drown in dark eyes that held a flickering flame
of--God forbid--desire.
The heat from his body was tangible. Or was it hers?
She couldn’t tell, because an answering spark was kindling deep inside her.
He hungered for a taste of those full lips, his loins
tightening when she nervously moistened them with her small tongue.
Unhesitatingly, he moved closer.
Recognizing his intent, she started to straighten, but
he simply followed, pushing to his feet until he stood before her, tall and
muscled and all male. Intoxicating. His hands on her hips holding her in place.
Not that she could move, frozen in place as a prey
entranced by a hunter. His eyes held her captive and all she could do was
shiver in apprehensive anticipation as he lowered his head.
When
As he coaxed a bolder response from her, he slid one
hand higher up her back, the other a fraction lower and drew her to him. The feel
of the soft curves pressed against his hard body inflamed him more and the kiss
wasn’t deep enough to satisfy him. Now he wanted, needed more.
The first tentative touch of his tongue against the
seam of her lips caused her to stiffen, but the movement was so sweetly gentle
that with a tiny sigh of surrender, she parted her lips, allowing him to sweep
inside.
He tasted fresh and clean. Male. An intoxicating mix
that had her senses spinning and she leaned into him, seeking more. His touch,
the texture of his skin, the heat from his hard body.
Kissing this lass was even better than
His mouth was almost magical, leaving tiny, licking
flames in his path, flames that shivered through her body to dance around the
pit of her stomach. Long fingers tangled in her hair, brushing the silken
strands aside to bare more of her throat for his seeking lips.
A tiny memory nudged at the back of her mind, seeking
to push forward. Uneasiness crept through her senses and she frowned.
“
“Such long, pretty hair.” He lifted his head only
enough to breathe in the fresh fragrance. “I’ve always liked it--especially the
blonde lock here. So unusual, striking.”
Her blood roared in her ears. ‘Such soft hair. So
long. So pretty.’ The words were terrifyingly similar, but not tender.
Instead, they were mocking. Insulting.
He pressed a light kiss to the side of her bared
throat. She was so beautiful, so soft. His lips moved to the curve of her
shoulder even as his other hand slid up to tenderly cup one heaving breast.
Oh God, it was happening again! The memory, as fresh and painful as though it had
just happened minutes ago, seared through her. It was Darcus who held her, who
touched her so brutally, who laughed at her pleas and cries. She didn’t
register the tender touches, her tortured mind recreating instead the cruel
hands that had kneaded her newly-budding breasts abusively.
“Sabra, what--”
“Leave me!”
“Are you all right?” He stepped forward quickly,
reaching out for her.
“I said leave me alone, damn it!”
Disconcerted,
“Talk?” Lowering her hand, she met his eyes and
suddenly she couldn’t bear to look at him, to see the pity that would replace
the concern reflected within them. “Talk? There’s nothing to talk about,
“Did I scare you? Was that it?” Reaching out, he laid
his hand upon her shoulder, but feeling her shrink away from his touch, he
removed it again.
“Just go away.” She gritted her teeth. “I don’t want
you here.”
“I want to understand what happened, Sabra. I--”
“I don’t want to discuss it!” Pushing back sharply
from the window, she faced him with burning eyes. “What happened was never
meant to, do you understand that? I don’t want you touching me ever again!”
“You can’t mean that.”
“You have no idea! Stay away from me from now on!” She
strode from the cabin.
Bewildered,
~ * ~
“It’s time I went.” Walking slowly to the door and
back, he tested his strength.
“There’s nothing to hold you now,” she agreed sadly.
“You go to seek her?”
“I must. I need to find out who survived, and where
she is. If she even lives.”
“I know.” She stared at the floor for several seconds
before raising her head to smile wistfully, the scars pulling it into a twisted
leer. “Will you return?”
He looked at her, not seeing the scars but the beauty
within, and he said the words he’d never thought to say to a woman. “I will.”
She nodded. “I will be here for you.”
Picking up the backpack, he hesitated at the door then
put it back onto the floor. Walking carefully across the room, he stopped
before her and looked deeply into her eyes. “I will be back. I promise.”
“I believe you.”
Bending forward, he kissed her tenderly on the lips,
something no one had done for so very long. He didn’t want to leave her, his
arms sliding around to hold her close. “When I return, be ready to leave with
me.”
Heart in her eyes, she touched his face. “Do you mean
it?”
“Yes.” Cupping the scarred cheek, he traced his thumb
across the trembling lips. “You are more beautiful than any woman I have ever
known.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes and he kissed her once
more, lingeringly, then turned abruptly and left. She stared at the closed door
for a very long time, then smiled slowly.
He thought she was beautiful.
~ * ~
Sitting in the control cabin, Shaque looked up as the
viscomm flared to life to show Falyon’s face.
“A man has been spotted not far from Walot, on Ylan.”
“And?”
“He answers the description of Cormac.”
“Are you sure?” He leaned closer to the screen.
“Creed’s pack is moving in on him now. Their ship
should make contact in another hour.”
Hope flared inside Shaque. “Excellent. Inform me
immediately you have him. If he isn’t Cormac, he may have knowledge of his
whereabouts.
“You’ll know as soon as I do,” Falyon replied.
The viscomm screen went blank. Silently the hunters
looked at each other. Could it be him? Their pack leader? How had he survived
the massacre?
The only sound in the cabin was the impatient drumming
of Ricna’s fingers on the table and the rasp of the sharpener against the honed
blades of Shaque’s daggers. Outside the stars and planets passed in a blur as
they headed back to the section of the Outlaw Sector where the man had been seen
and was presently being hunted.
~ * ~
“Most interesting news.” Veknor stroked his jaw
thoughtfully. “Are you sure it was her?”
“She carved up Dekya’s mug. Besides,” Fredrico
grinned, “I never forget a pretty face.”
“Hmm. And the hunter is with the Daamens?”
“Turns out she is a Daamen.”
“Really?” Veknor leaned forward, his ebony face
shining in the dull light emitted by the viscomm. “Then how the hell did she
end up running with Cormac’s pack?”
Fredrico shrugged.
“Those Daamen’s protect their womenfolk with the
ferocity of wild lycats. Touch one of them and it’s sure injury--even death.
Well, well, well. Will wonders never cease? Sabra the hunter is a Daamen.
Things just keep getting more and more interesting.” His gaze sharpened. “What
about Barj? Has he been dealt with?”
“As we speak.”
“I trust you won’t get caught. You’re too valuable to
this mission.”
“Don’t worry about me. Darcus is the one organizing
this.”
Veknor’s brows rose.
“That’s right, Darcus. I just happened to let slip to
another pirate that Barj had got himself caught and was threatening to spill
everything he knew if he wasn’t rescued immediately.” Fredrico tapped his chin
musingly. “At least, I think that’s what he was saying.”
Teeth flashed white as Veknor grinned in amusement.
“I can’t really be sure what he was saying, so I added
a little to what I wasn’t sure of. Or a lot. Anyway, what the hell! It resulted
in Darcus going berserk and sending someone to deal with the problem.
Permanently.”
“You cunning scum of the universe.”
“Aw, shucks, your praise embarrasses me!”
“I have an incoming call. Keep up the good work and
I’ll hear from you soon.”
With a cheery wave, Fredrico vanished from the screen
to be replaced with a milk-white face.
“Overlord,” Veknor acknowledged pleasantly.
“Fill me in. What news of our friend?”
“Darcus continues to place outlaws at various points,
but my men are close behind.”
“There is something else.”
“You can tell?”
Vertical pupils narrowed in the pink eyes. “You’re
looking quite smug, Veknor. Yes, I can tell. What has you so amused?”
With a grin, the pirate repeated all that had been
imparted to him by Fredrico. When he finished, he sat back and waited. The
reaction was similar to his own.
“Very interesting.”
“I thought so, Overlord.”
“This hunter, what threat could she pose to this
mission?”
“To be truthful, I don’t know. She’s intelligent, as
you’d expect from Cormac’s protégée. She recognized Fredrico and the
outlaws. No telling if she’ll start to sense that something is going on, but I
wouldn’t be surprised.”
“She hates Darcus, does she not?”
“She’s hunted him for years.”
“For killing her family.” Jagged teeth nibbled at the
lipless mouth. “For taking her childhood away.” The pupils dilated. “Now that
she’s home, she may give up bounty hunting.”
“Not until Darcus is dead.”
“You truly believe this?”
“She hunts his crew with a tenacity you’d admire.
Hell, I admire it. No, I doubt most strongly that she’ll give up yet.”
“But the Daamens don’t allow their women to go into
danger. They protect them at every turn. How will this effect Sabra?”
“I don’t know.”
“And what if she does smell something rotten in the
galaxy?”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
“Most interesting.” The milk-white face grew pensive.
“I will have to think on this. It adds a different slant to things, no?”
“Possibly.”
“Always the careful one.” The Overlord laughed
gratingly and the screen went blank.
Leaning back in the chair, Veknor contemplated his
fingers as he steepled them before him. It would seem that the bounty hunter
might be an unexpected addition to the puzzle the Overlord was piecing together
slowly but surely. But which puzzle? What Darcus was doing or the Overlord was
planning? Knowing the Overlord as well as anyone could, Veknor was sure he’d
come up with a use for the knowledge he’d just gained. And he himself would be
informed when the time was right.
In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to try and find out
where the hunter stood with her kinfolk, though trying to find out was going to
be almost impossible. Still, one never knew unless one tried.
Whistling tunelessly to himself, he turned the viscomm
back on.
~ * ~
The night duty peacekeeper yawned and looked at the
timer on the wall. Two hours past
Standing up, he crossed the room to the heavy wooden
door that separated the prison cells from the main building. He’d better check
the outlaw, Barj. Wouldn’t want him to escape, he chuckled to himself. Not
after the bounty hunter haranguing the sergeant, leaving him ranting and
raving. He’d practically threatened them all with castration if Barj escaped or
anyone entered. Not that anyone could. The peacekeepers’ enforcement building
was locked tighter than a miser’s dinno pouch.
The prisoner glared at him through the bars of the
cell. Dried blood still covered his face and clothes.
“You look like shit,” the peacekeeper said cheerfully.
“You’ll feel like it when I’m released.”
“No freedom for you, boyo. The sergeant has plans for
you.”
“Such as?”
“Dead or alive, your warrant states. He prefers you
dead.” He paused. “After you answer some questions, of course.”
Barj snorted. “As if I’d tell you bastards anything.”
A pained smile crossed his face, hurting his mangled lip. “Might be you doing
the squealing in a minute.”
“I doubt it.”
“I don’t.”
Whistling cheerfully, the peacekeeper turned around to
find himself looking down the barrel of a laser.
“Surprise,” the hooded figure said.
“What the… how the hell did you get in?”
“Turn around.”
“What? What do you--”
“Or I’ll fry your brains all over the wall with this
laser beam.”
Faced with the laser, he could do nothing else but
obey, turning to face a leering Barj. Any second he expected to hear the
crackle and feel the beam cut through his flesh. Instead, he heard a rush of
air, felt a flash of pain, and everything went black.
“You should have killed him,” Barj growled. “Why knock
him out only?”
“Darcus doesn’t want anyone looking for peacekeeper
killers right now,” the hooded figure replied.
“Tell him it was an accident.” Barj shook the bars of
the cell door. “Let me out and I’ll kill him for you.”
“Sorry, that’s not part of the plan.”
“Oh for--okay, just let me out and we’ll go.”
“That’s not part of the plan either.”
“Huh?” Confused, Barj looked from the hooded figure to
the laser being casually aimed at him. “What’re you doing?” The click of the
trigger being slowly squeezed brought clarity with it. Backing up to the cell
wall, he screamed, “No! You can’t kill me! You can’t!”
Frantically, he dodged from side to side, trying to
avoid the laser. The hooded figure laughed, low and harsh. Minutes ticked past
as he played with the prisoner, following his every movement until Barj finally
halted, swaying, sweat pouring down his ruined face, his chest heaving with
painful gulps of air.
“You can’t really mean to do it,” Barj gasped. “It’s
just a little game Darcus is playing with me. Isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
“It has to be.” He started to laugh hysterically. “I’m
one of his men, an outlaw--”
“I do like my victims to die happy.” The laser
crackled, searing through Barj’s head, spewing brains in its wake. Without
bothering to watch the lifeless body slump to the floor, the killer blew smoke
from the barrel and, with a flourish of his cloak, left the cells.
Once outside, he checked that the two peacekeepers
there were still unconscious. Dragging them inside the enforcement building, he
casually shut the door and, with a flick at the ruined lock, he laughed and
strode away unseen into the night. Oh, he did like a job well done.
So did Darcus, so there’d be a nice little reward
waiting for him. Would he choose the little redhead or the blonde? Maybe he’d
have both. Darcus would be feeling generous. Hell, he’d even help him tie them
down side by side. That way he could go from one to another and back again as the
fancy took him. And they could hear each other scream.
Life, he decided, was good.
Minutes later, outside the settlement, a small black
craft lifted into the air and sped away with a low hum.
Fifteen
Restlessly Sabra paced the bedroom, glancing out the
window now and again. The dark tranquility outside pulled at her, promising to
soothe her troubled thoughts. With a sudden movement, she drew off the
nightgown and pulled on the long pants and shirt she’d bought earlier that day
in the markets. Pushing into low-heeled boots, she left the room.
The house was quiet, dark and comforting in the loving
warmth that seemed to practically flow through the rooms. A family, happy and
content, dwelled here. A family that had opened their arms to her. A family she
tried to reject.
With a sigh, she exited the house and strode down the
front path, turning onto the walkway. Then, with a lengthy stride, she
proceeded to follow the path through the wide sprawling streets. Overhead,
night flyers chirped and fluttered through the tree tops. Stars twinkled
brilliantly and the moons shone softly down upon the homes sheltering their
slumbering occupants.
A peaceful atmosphere, one she had long forgotten and
only felt on Otar. And here.
Ten minutes later she found herself standing before
the gracefully sprawling building that had been her home. Windows shone blankly
in the moonlight. The wild gardens had an air of abandonment about them. And
so they should, she thought sadly. They had been abandoned.
With a sigh, she turned away and continued walking.
Turning into another street, she frowned as a stone house came into view. Vines
grew invitingly up the verandah posts and the scent of night blossoms filled
the air. Two lycats sat beside the open gate, blinking their golden eyes at
her.
Her gaze wandered over the hedge, settling almost
instinctively on the figure sitting on the front step, leaning against the
verandah post, one booted foot on the ground, the other bent at the knee and
resting on the top step. The dim light of a glow-lamp on one rail shone upon
the face, softening the hard planes. In repose,
Stopping beside the gate, Sabra hesitated. Instinct
made her want to continue, to forget the feel of his strong arms around her,
the firm mouth capturing hers. Turning her face away, she took several steps,
but something deep inside made her stop.
Tipping back her head, she breathed deeply of the
night, inhaling the night blossom scent. Closing her eyes, she could still see
the confusion on his face, and the hurt in his eyes from the cruel words she’d
thrown at him. With no explanation.
“I don’t have to give one,” she muttered to herself.
He saved your life, her heart whispered.
“I didn’t ask him to.”
Could you expect anything less of him? He always came
to your aid.
Shaking her head, she glanced over her shoulder once
more at the sleeping giant and suddenly an unknown force made her step back and
turn into the gate. Quietly she walked up the path and stopped before him. Even
asleep, he appeared troubled. A faint frown marred the strong brow, and without
thinking she reached down and gently pushed back a long ringlet that spilled
over his brow. Her fingers lingered, brushing lightly over the scar above his
left eyebrow while she noted the faint scar that traced from his left ear to
partway across his cheek. It didn’t detract from his looks, instead it added to
the dangerously handsome features.
She wondered how he came by those scars. Fighting? It
would have to be a good fighter to do him that damage. The thought of him
suffering any kind of hurt caused her a strange pang. Straightening up, she
sighed inwardly. It seemed she was doing a lot of sighing this night.
But she couldn’t bring herself to leave him just yet.
Shoving her hands into her pockets, she leaned against the opposite verandah
post and gazed down at
Are you sure?
her heart whispered.
Brooding, she stared out unseeingly at the forest
which started opposite the house, lost in her own thoughts, yet still aware of
his presence.
“Troubled thoughts, lass?”
The deep voice didn’t startle her and she kept her
attention on the forest. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You could never do that.”
“I woke you, it would appear.”
“I knew when you came.”
“My apologies.” She pushed away from the post.
“Don’t go. I enjoy your company.”
“You continually surprise me.” Her brief laugh was
humorless. “Such a nice man who forgets so quickly.”
“I didn’t forget anything,”
Sabra looked down, meeting his calm gaze. He was still
reclining against the post, but in no way was he sleepy. “I’ll leave you to
rest.”
“Why did you come?”
“I don’t know.”
One elegant brow ached up.
“All I ask is that you sit with me awhile. If you wish
to talk, I’m ready to listen. If not, well then, we’ll just enjoy this pleasant
night together.”
He watched her hesitate, the brief tightening of her
lips, her quick glance around as she debated whether to walk away or stay.
Waiting silently, he was rewarded when she suddenly eased herself down beside
him on the step.
When she said nothing further but simply stared off
into the dark forest,
But he wasn’t her lover.
“I’m sorry about the way I yelled at you,” Sabra
finally broke the silence. “Back on the ship.”
“‘Tis okay.”
“I hurt you.”
Glancing across the small distance separating them, he
observed that she was still staring towards the forest. Not wanting to cause
her further unease, he plucked a night blossom from the vine near his head and
studied it. “I’m tough, lass. I’ll survive.”
“You’re not so tough.”
“Oh?” Curious to see where this conversation was
heading, he twirled the delicate stem between his fingers. “What makes you
think that?”
“The tough don’t hurt easily.” She risked a glance at
him, relieved to see his attention on the blossom. It made talking to him so
much easier. “My words hurt you. Don’t deny it.”
How truthful could he be without alarming her?
“I’m the tough one,
The dark eyes rose slowly to capture her gaze. “All
right. Aye, your words did hurt. I never meant to upset you. Whatever I did to
scare you so much... You must know I’d never harm a hair on your head, Sabra.
I’d sooner cut off my own hand.”
“It wasn’t you.”
“Nay? I didn’t see anyone else in that cabin. No one
else was touching you. If it wasn’t something I’d done, what was it?”
Dropping her gaze to the ground between her spread
knees, Sabra bit her lip. Indecision gnawed at her. The need to reassure this
gentle giant alarmed her. Yet the plain truth was that she couldn’t bear to
allow him to think he was the cause of her panic. That in itself was alarming.
At the continued silence,
Only my life.
Glancing sideways, she watched him raise the blossom to his face and take an
appreciative sniff of the sweet perfume. He sat easily beside her. Patient. The
warmth of his body seemed to reach out and twine around her, spreading its
comforting heat through her chill body.
Making a sudden decision, she clasped her hands
together, rested her forearms on her knees, and contemplated her fingers. “Even
in the grip of Darcus, on the ship, I had no real idea what was going to happen
to me. Something horrible, certainly. But in my sheltered world, atrocities
weren’t committed.”
The words were low, the voice soft and emotionless,
but
“I fainted before being taken aboard the ship. When I
awoke, I was in Darcus’s cabin, on his bunk. He was standing beside it, waiting
for me to regain consciousness. I wish to God I’d died on the ship with Mother
and Father.”
He didn’t have to hear the tremor in the words to
understand what was coming. A faint feeling of nausea nipped at the pit of his
stomach.
Her fingers clenched tight. “I was chained to the bed.
Spread-eagled. The chains had enough slack in them so that I could struggle but
not get free. It added to his enjoyment. He told me so himself. He took such
delight in tearing my clothes from me, a little bit at a time, prolonging his
entertainment. I was innocent enough to plead with him to stop. I really
thought he would, that he couldn’t really hurt me. No man had ever touched me.
A Daamen man would never hurt a child or wench and they were the only men I’d
known.”
The pain of betrayal in the low tone bit into
Tipping her head back, she looked up at the stars and
moistened her lips. “He... touched me. Many times. Private places. It hurt.”
Her voice wavered and she drew in a shaky breath. “He was rough, pain was his
pleasure. Then he climbed on top of me. I couldn’t stop him. He bit me in
several places, drawing blood. He drank my blood,
The tears clogging the husky voice wrung
Moisture wet his own eyes when instead of rejecting
him as he half expected, her fingers tightened around his.
“Then he raped me. Taking me without a care, laughing
and biting. I screamed, begged him to stop, promised anything. Anything to stop
the pain. And wherever I bled, he lapped up my blood.” The echoes of caustic
laughter sounded in her mind as fresh as when she first heard him, and the feel
of sadistic hands, the lean body above her, forcing her down and slamming
viciously into her untried, innocent flesh, was just as raw.
Rage gripped
Unconsciously her fingers tightened even more and
“He wouldn’t stop,” she continued almost dully now.
“He kept going and going, even when I bled. Agony like I’d never felt. When I
thought he’d finished, he’d start again. And then the hunters attacked, Cormac
found me, and the rest you know.”
Throat tight,
For several long seconds they sat in silence, Sabra
gazing down at their clasped hands before she said softly, “So, you see, when
you kissed me, ‘twasn’t you that I shrank from.”
“‘Twas the memories I unwittingly awakened. Lass, I
never would have put you through that if I’d only known.”
“You probably wouldn’t have kissed me if you had.”
The dark eyes held her gaze steadily. “Is that what
you think?”
“Aye.” For some insane reason, it mattered to her.
“You don’t know me well at all, do you, Sabra?”
“I haven’t known you for eight years. People change.”
“My heart never has.”
She froze. Had she heard correctly?
Suddenly afraid that he’d said too much, too soon,
Heart racing a little, she moistened her lips. “That’s
a nice thing to say,
“But he still never took you. You’re here now,
Sabra. Look around you.” With one hand he gestured outwards. “Your home world.
Your family. Your friends.” The man who loves you.
When the dark gaze turned back to her, she had the
strangest feeling that he wanted to add something but didn’t.
“As long as he lives, he has a piece of me,” she
returned. “Until he dies, I won’t be complete.”
“And if you never capture him?”
“I’ll never be complete.”
“Then don’t you see? He’ll have won.”
“Why? He’ll never know peace, either.”
“Because the rest of your life will be chasing after
him. He consumes your thoughts to the extent that you ignore the beauty and
life around you.” Releasing her hand,
“So you think I should give up, let him go free? Is
that it?”
“Nay. Hunt him if you must, use whatever means are
available to you. He ruined your life, aye, but don’t let it be forever.”
“I’ll chase him to hell if I have to.”
He regarded her seriously. “What of a life of your
own? Will you give it up for him, allow him to rule it?”
“Of course not. I have a life.”
“Of what?”
“Of...” Hunting. Aye, hunting other outlaws and
pirates, true, but hunting Darcus the most.
“Facing death at the hands of desperate criminals. At
every turn, someone wanting a piece of the bounty hunter, a notch on their
already bloody body count.”
“It’s what I am.”
“But not forever. You have a life, too, Sabra. You
deserve love and happiness as much as the next person. Don’t throw it all away
for revenge.”
“I won’t be whole until he’s dead. Can’t you see even
now what he’s done to me? I cannot even have a man touch me slightly intimately
without turning into a screaming imbecile. What sort of a man wants a wife like
that?” The words were almost bitter.
“A man who recognizes the worth of you. A man with the
patience and willingness to teach you that intimacy can be wonderful.” Me.
The turn of conversation was suddenly taking a path
too close to... something. The warmth in the dark eyes surveying her held
another expression as well. One that Sabra was too afraid to examine.
The moment of sharing was gone.
She cleared her throat. “Aye, well, now you know the
story. I hope it answers any lingering questions you had.”
“It does.”
Before she could even register what he intended,
“What was that for?” She stared at him.
“Because you are you.” He smiled.
“Oh.” Uncertain how to respond, she stood up quickly.
“Well, goodnight,
“Goodnight, lass. I enjoyed your company.”
He watched her walk down the path and out of sight.
~ * ~
“Do you have that list of events, Ridly?”
“Here.”
Taking the list, Darcus perused it closely then gave a
bark of laughter. “This is it, Ridly. This is going to be the place of my
victory.”
His henchman glanced at the list. “What do you mean?”
“I need a place to be situated when the fight begins
and I’ve found it!”
“And where is that?”
“Here.” Darcus shoved the list beneath his nose,
pointing to a location on it.
Ridly paled.
“Hah! Don’t be so spineless!”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Never more so.” Grinning hugely, Darcus quaffed down
a mug of ale. “What better place to be than in the middle of all my problems?
I’m going to be there when the fight starts, and when it reaches its crescendo,
I’m going to be right in the center of the action.”
“It’s suicide!”
“And you’ll be beside me.”
“Me? But--”
“Sharing in my glory, the greatest achievement of my
life.” Dropping down into the chair behind the scarred desk, he rubbed his chin
musingly. “Now, who would be the best to send there to scout around?”
For a minute Ridly was petrified that the pirate would
send him. Only when he finally named another outlaw did he allow himself to
slump in relief.
Unable to miss the relieved expression on his face,
Darcus’s lips twisted sardonically. “Such a coward. You could have taken a few
lessons from sweet little Sabra. Even dying in the bloody snow and cold, she
didn’t beg. No, she swore to kill me and died fighting. Now that’s the kind of
henchman I need.” With a disgusted wave of his hand, he swung the chair around
to stare out the window. “Get the hell out of my sight, you sniveling bastard.”
Mouth tight, Ridly left. But he didn’t slam the door
behind him. No fool, he knew if he did so, he’d be hanging from the gallows
within the hour.
Dismissing him from his mind, the pirate contemplated
his next move. Oh, it was going to be so sweet, this victory. Everything
would be his, all his. He’d have it all.
~ * ~
Narrow-eyed, Shaque watched the sleek hunter’s ship
circle above them once before landing nearby.
“Falyon swears it’s him.” Abra squinted against the
early morning sun as the ramp of the ship lowered.
“Until I see for myself, I believe nothing.”
Ricna twirled the laser in his hand, stroking the
barrel almost tenderly. “If it’s not him, he’d better have an explanation.”
Silently they observed the pack of hunters walking
down the ramp. The man in the middle caught their attention and instantly they
straightened, their gazes piercing.
Could it really be?
The man limped up to them, his hard eyes scraping
across their faces.
“Cormac.” Abra stepped forward, hand awkwardly
extended to assist the man’s limping steps.
“I can walk by myself,” Cormac said.
Ignoring the rejection, he hooked a supporting hand
beneath his arm. “What happened to you?”
“Where have you been?” Ricna asked simultaneously.
“I was saved by a woman.”
“Who?”
“Never mind, I’ll tell you later. Where’s Sabra?”
“On Daamen, “ Shaque answered quietly. “The traders
saved her life.”
“Did Darcus...?” The words stuck in the pack leader’s
throat.
“Apart from trying to kill her, he didn’t do anything
else,” Abra replied. “She wasn’t hurt like when we first found her.”
Cormac blew out a breath of relief. Undoubtedly Sabra
would not be happy to be back on Daamen, but she was safe. Of that he had no
doubt. Past dealings with the traders ensured him of that. But there was still
more to do. “Miklar?”
“Is dead,” Shaque said harshly. “I slit her throat
myself.”
“I saw the ruins. You all did well. But Miklar told us
of a safe place that Darcus uses, or did use. It’s very likely he fled from
there once you all arrived.” Cormac jerked his head in Falyon’s direction.
“From what I saw, any pirate would be a fool to hang around.”
Falyon smiled. “Our pleasure.”
“But there may have been some truth in what she
claimed. We can’t afford not to check. If by some long stretch the bitch was
actually right, there might be some clue as to the whereabouts of the pirates.”
“Then let’s go,” Abra said.
Cormac turned to Falyon. “Seems I have you and Creed
to thank as well.”
“No pack goes down that the others don’t immediately
respond.” His face darkened. “We need each other in a way no one outside our
packs can possibly understand. No planet shall go unscathed until our brothers’
deaths are avenged. Four packs, at this very moment, are scouring over Ylan.
When we are deliberately setup and scorned, the blood runs hot.” Clenching his
fist, he raised it high. “We are the hunters, not the hunted!”
A roar of approval swept through his pack.
“Then let the hunt continue!” Cormac called above the
rising swell. “And there shall be no mercy!”
Sixteen
After blowing the dust off the lid of the chest, Sabra
opened it to peer at the contents. Folded neatly were small winter tunics, long
and warm. Hers. With a faint smile she closed the lid again. Standing
up, she wandered around what had once been her bedroom, touching the little
figurines on the dusty dressing-table, opening a book that sat on the chest of
drawers beside the bed. Running her finger down the faded words on the page,
she shook her head. An adventure story on, of all things, pirates. Only these
pirates were friendly and helpful. Fantasy heroes.
How twisted. And how naive they’d all been.
The small bed was draped in a dainty lace cover, the
pillow frilled. Dust lay over it all. Slowly she trailed her finger over the
footboard, tracing the flowers carved into the wood. Father had done it for
her, a surprise for her eighth birthday. Odd how she could remember that when
she had difficulty recalling her parents’ faces. Time had blurred their features.
Crossing the hall, she entered her parents’ bedroom.
Picking up a brush from the dressing-table, she wiped the grime from the handle
to reveal the pearly coating. Turning it this way and that, she admired the way
the light caught and held the different colors, bringing them vividly to life,
before replacing it in the exact same position it had lain for eight years.
Lying across the end of the bed was a thin nightgown,
the material soft and gauzy, dulled now by the dust that coated everything in
the house. Beside it, tossed just as carelessly, lay a black vest and pants.
The clothing her parents had worn before they’d left on that ill-fated trip.
Picking up the nightgown, she held it to her nose and
inhaled, but there was no lilis scent left to remind anyone of who had worn it.
Instead, she sneezed. Shaking her head, she let it drift back down to the
mattress to drape across the vest. A fleeting image came to mind of her Father
wearing that exact same vest the night before they left. Lifting it carefully,
she held it up in front of her. Aye, her Father had been a giant of a man.
Moving on to the robe, she opened it up and regarded
the clothes hanging within it. Long graceful gowns, sandals, and ribbons. Silk
shawls and scarves. Luxurious cloaks. Her mother had delighted in pretty things
and her indulgent husband had showered them upon her, gifts of love. Shera had
returned that love full-fold, going out of her way to make life as happy for
her beloved husband as she could, giving him all the comforts she was capable
of, making this house a warm haven for his return from trading trips.
This dwelling had echoed with laughter, the very walls
seeped in love. Now it was empty, a shell, holding within it memories of days
gone by. Never to return.
Turning, Sabra studied the portrait upon the wall once
more. Shera and Lok, pride and happiness. Both so young, so hopeful.
“They loved you very much.” The deep voice came from
the doorway.
“Aye.”
Darvk came to stand beside her, gazing up at the
portrait. “This house has been empty so long. Now ‘tis yours. Won’t you
reconsider and make it your home?”
“I have things to do.”
“I’d rest easier.”
“Apart from keeping me here, what else do you want
from me?”
He looked down at her, but her gaze was steadfast on
the portrait. “I would have the friendship we shared before.”
“A lot has happened since then. I’m not the same
person.”
“Nor am I.”
She cast him a fleeting glance.
“We’ve all grown up, lass. Circumstances changed us.
None are as we once were, but ‘tis what we do with the opportunities given us
that count.”
“Are you saying I should be grateful for being shot?”
Her smile was dry.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, he turned her to face
him. “Life dealt you a hard blow but now you have the opportunity to rebuild.
Won’t you take that opportunity?”
“Have you been speaking to
“He’s right.”
“Don’t nag me, Darvk. I’m here for now, can’t you be
content with that?”
“Is it so hard to understand that we want you here for
good?”
Shaking her head, she moved away towards the door.
Darvk sighed. “Sabra?”
“Aye?”
“Friends?”
Hand on the door frame, she looked back at him. There
was no denying that he’d been nothing but kind and caring to her. The
protective cousin she’d known from childhood. Only now he was all grown-up. But
he still cared. “Aye. Friends.”
Striding forward, he gave her an unexpected hug.
“Little cousin, you have made my day.” Wisely not pressuring her now, he
released her and walked over to the door. “By the way,
Her heart missed a beat. “Me?”
“Aye. Something about paying a favor owed?”
“A favor? Oh.” Confusion cleared. “The poker game.”
“Did you lose?” A sound of disgust made him grin.
“Pah! Nay, I won, but I made a dumb deal to give him a
favor in return. Actually,” her smile grew almost predatory. “I cleaned all
your friends out that day.”
“Well, he’s waiting to collect his favor. You’ll find
him outside.”
~ * ~
Leaning back against the fence,
“Morning, lass,” he greeted her cheerfully. “I’ve come
to collect.”
Relieved that he didn’t bring up the previous night’s
conversation, she arched one brow. “Oh? Your planet cruiser needs cleaning,
does it?”
“Nay.”
Puzzled, she stepped down off the verandah and walked
up to him. “I don’t understand.”
“If you remember correctly, lass, ‘twas Jase that said
that. I only agreed that it sounded like a good idea. I never said it was the
price.”
Suspicion replaced the puzzlement.
“Get that look off your face. Now come with me and
I’ll show you what we’re going to do.”
Well, there was no call on her time to do anything
else, and she was curious as to what he intended. So she walked along beside
him.
The lass needed some wholesome fun,
“Do you remember doing that?”
The sudden question broke into his musings and he
followed the direction in which she was looking. “The travel discs those boys
are playing on?”
“Aye.” She watched the three boys skimming above the
ground, feet planted firmly on the round discs. “If I remember rightly, you
were one of the fastest on them.”
“And the most foolish.” He pulled a face at the memory
of several hair-raising rides and painful tumbles.
“Because the others always dared you, knowing you
couldn’t resist.”
Curiously she looked up at him. “Have you never been
on one since?”
“Not much. I generally walk or ride a horse. I have no
real need to use a travel disc.”
“‘Tis a skill you should never lose.”
“Use them much?”
“Oh aye. Travel discs can go in places spaceships
can’t, and are valued on long hunts that require ground work. I’m quite adept
at riding them. In fact, ‘tis one of the few things I have always enjoyed.”
“Is that so?” A crafty grin curved firm lips. “Then
let’s see how good you are.”
As he led the way over to the stables, she realized
his intent. “Nay,
“Idle boasts, lass? Are you afraid that you can’t
prove yourself?”
“Dares don’t work on me, trader.”
“No dare, bold wench, but a challenge. A race in the
woods.”
One brow arched. “Amongst the trees?”
“Your specialty or not?” Without waiting for a reply,
Arms folded, she watched as dinnos exchanged hands and
he returned to her with two travel discs and a big grin.
“You really think I’m going to do this?” she asked
tartly.
“I know you will.” He laid the discs at their feet.
“Because I’m calling in my favor.”
“This is your favor?”
“Correct.”
“Oh, come on--”
“You said you never renegade on a bet.”
Blowing out a breath of air, she stepped onto the disc
with a scowl. “Let’s get this over with quickly.”
Quirking a brow at her,
Making her own disc rise, she made a few experimental
turns with it. The freedom of the travel disc seeped into her and a familiar
thrill coursed through her veins. The scowl faded to be replaced with a small
smile and she looked straight at
At the challenge in her voice and the sparkle in her
eyes, he grinned. “I was one of the best, wench.”
“Then you better hope the gravity pull of the disc
keeps your feet on it, else they’ll have to scrape you up off the ground.”
“Sassy bit, aren’t you? What say we stop talking and
start riding?”
“Line up beside me, champ. I’m ready.”
Bringing his disc in line with hers,
“Let’s do this,” she purred.
“All right. Go!”
They took off together, negotiating the wide street
easily. Being on the edge of the settlement, it wasn’t so busy, but there were
more than a few startled looks and oaths by those few unfortunate enough to
wander into their path. Although never hit by the discs, they didn’t appreciate
the skills of the two in control. Especially by those riding horses.
Hearing the curses,
Laughter bubbled up inside her. “They’ll have to catch
us first!”
The familiar feel of the disc beneath her feet, the
freedom of movement, and the wind blowing in her face was an exhilarating
experience. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw
Amazed,
They shot through the air, leaving a wind trail behind
them for several seconds. Dust was the next thing kicked up as they left the
settlement and lowered to skim over the dirt track, advancing on the woods at
an awesome speed.
“We better slow down!”
“Not likely!” she shouted back. “Keep up if you can or
go back home!”
“You’ll get hurt!”
“Just watch your own body!” With that, Sabra flew into
the woods.
There was no way
He couldn’t have been more wrong. Awe mixed with the
fear as he followed close behind, seeing how she maneuvered the disc with a
skill he’d never before seen. Zipping between the trees, dodging bushes,
twisting and turning.
Never in his life had he thought he’d go pelting
through these woods at such breakneck speeds, but he’d rather risk serious
injury than let her get out of his sight. Until he suddenly realized that she
was nowhere to be seen. Slowing speed, he looked around.
“Sabra?” When there was no answer, he frowned.
“Sabra?” Still silence and apprehension started to fill him. “Where are you?
Are you hurt? Sabra!”
Then she was there beside him, swooping in from
behind, her cheeks flushed and eyes dancing. “Come on, expert, keep up!”
“What happened--” But she was gone already.
Blowing out a breath,
Through the woods they charged, sending leaves
swirling in their wake and day flyers screeching up into the sky. Neck and neck
at one stage, they glanced at each other. Then both grinned, the challenge
shining in their eyes. Neither was about to give up.
It was foolishness more deserving of youths, but
It was only as they went deeper into the woods where
the trees grew closer together that he listened to the cautionary voice in his
head, but before he could utter it, he noted her slow down to a safer speed.
Skimming silently up behind her, he opened his mouth, but before any warning
came out, she shrugged suddenly and spun the disc around--right into his.
Simultaneously they both swore in surprise, scrambled
for balance and tipped over, hitting the ground with force.
Sabra was the first to sit up from the ground. Hearing
a groan, she glanced across the few feet separating them to find
“Bloody hell.” He opened his eyes, concern flashing
instantly across his face. “How about you, lass?”
“You’re the one on your back.” She laughed.
“Tell me something I don’t know. That was a tumble and
a half.”
“Can you get up?”
“I’m no weakling, lass.” Wincing, he pushed upright
into a sitting position, raising one hand to the side of his head.
“Here, let me look.” Rising up on her knees, she
leaned close and carefully parted the unruly curls with her fingers. “No blood,
no skin breaks. Nothing but this twig in your hair.” Removing it, she couldn’t
help but twirl a glossy curl about her finger before releasing it slowly,
marveling at how silky it was before glancing down to hand him the twig. She
stilled.
Dark eyes were fastened on her face. The twig was
flicked away and his hand curled around hers, enclosing it in a warm clasp,
gently urging her back down to rest on her heels.
The only sounds around them were the day flyers high
in the treetops. A slight breeze ruffled the tendrils of hair that had escaped
the confines of her bun, and played with the dark curls that trailed across the
broad shoulders of the man studying her so intently. A disturbing sensation
spread from the warm palm against her own to curl down into the pit of her
stomach.
“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” he asked softly.
“I’ve taken worse tumbles.” Unnerved by how
unexpectedly pleasurable she found his concern, she sought to return them to
more common ground by pushing upright. “A bounty hunter learns to go with the
falls.” Moving over to the fallen discs, she tried to ignore the sounds of
“And what is the bounty on your heart?” The words
shimmered between them.
He couldn’t possibly be hinting at... She swallowed. “No price has been set.”
“I would gladly pay any price.”
“What?” Shocked, she spun around quickly. “How can
you? You hardly know me, you--”
“I’ve loved you since you were a babe toddling along
behind me. I didn’t know it then. How could I? I was just a boy. But all those
times I dried your tears and dusted you off from yet another foolhardy
incident, I felt a closeness with you that I’ve not had with anyone else. It
hasn’t changed, lass. Indeed, it has only grown stronger. When I found you
dying in that hellhole, I didn’t recognize you, yet I knew I couldn’t bear to
lose you again.”
“
“‘Tis more than possible. I didn’t suspect until
recently, when my eyes were opened for me. Then when I saw that outlaw
attacking you in the tavern,” his nostrils flared briefly, “I could have killed
him with no qualms. I knew then, Sabra. I’ve loved you for a long time.”
She didn’t know what to think or say. He loved her.
It was there in his eyes and the tenderness of his touch. His thumb caressed
her cheek, his hand slipping beneath her chin to hold her still while he leaned
forward to press a soft kiss to her trembling lips.
The tender gesture went straight to her heart and all
she could do when he broke the contact was whisper, “You’ve made a mistake.”
“Nay.”
“You don’t mean it. You just feel sorry for me. You’re
being kind and--”
“Nay.”
“You’re in love with memories--”
“Nay. I’m in love with you, and I’m asking you to be
my wife.” He held her widening gaze. “My lifemate.”
“Lifemate?
“I know who you are and you’re everything I
love.”
“You’re making a mistake--”
“You’ll bear my children and be by my side. Forever.”
“Bear your children?” Blinking, she stepped back. “How
can I bear your children when I can’t stand to be touched?”
“I touched you--”
“On the ship, and look what happened.”
Reaching out, he traced an elegant cheekbone with one
fingertip. “Trust me enough to guide us both through--”
“You have no idea what you’re saying!” Tears pricked
her eyes, unexpected and unwelcome. “What will you think if you’re wrong? How
will you feel? What if I can’t be a wife in every way? You’ll hate me!”
“I’m not wrong.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I can’t change the past, lass. I wish to God I could,
but I can’t. All I can do is give you the future with me. Nay, I’m no expert on
the matter, but this I do promise.” Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips,
holding contact with her eyes. “I will never hurt you, lass. I will show you
the pleasures of making love.”
“Can you wait an eternity?” Her lips twisted almost
bitterly, even as her heart threatened to break.
“I’m a patient man.”
Unable to stand the intensity of his gaze, she swung
around, drawing a deep breath and staring up at the tall trees.
Coming up behind her, he began, “Sabra--”
“This is ludicrous. I won’t be here for long.”
“We can make this work.”
She picked up a travel disc. “They’re coming for me.”
“Who?”
“Cormac and the others.”
“Cormac’s dead--”
“I spoke to them a week ago.” Sabra wasn’t surprised
when the large hand fell upon her shoulder to turn her around to face him. “I
also received a message from Creed to say that Cormac has been found alive and
well.”
“Five weeks now and they’ll be here.”
Five weeks. The bounty hunters were coming to collect
her. Fear clutched at
“Makes a difference, doesn’t it?”
At the quiet statement, he shook his head. “Nay, it
doesn’t. It just means that I have five weeks to convince you.”
“It’ll take longer than that!” She gave an almost sad
laugh. “Save your dreams for another lass,
“Nay. I’m far from giving up. In fact, I’ll never give
up on you. On us.”
“You won’t convince me, you know.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to, won’t I?”
Alarmed at the sudden determination glinting in his
eyes, she stepped back. “What do you mean? How--”
“We have five weeks together.”
“Together? Now wait a minute--”
“What have you got to lose?” He was suddenly there,
chest to breast, hands on her shoulders. “If naught else, I’ll have taught you
the pleasures to be had with me. You won’t fear intimacy again.”
“If you think I’m going to just go to bed with you,
you’re seriously mistaken!” Cheeks flushed, she glared up at him. Disturbed.
“Later.” His voice was heavy with promise. “First I
take care of your lesser fears. Five weeks to go around together.”
“And if my pack comes and you haven’t progressed?”
Challenge rang in the words.
“Then you go with them.” Over my dead body.
Suspiciously, she scrutinized his face. Did he mean
it? Was he trying to trick her? Deciding to test him further, she asked slowly,
“And if you manage the miracle and we make love? What if I still decide to go
with them?”
“Then you go with them.” Over my dead body and
theirs.
“This is stupid.”
“Are you so uncertain of your own convictions?”
“Don’t try and trap me by provocation,
He merely watched her closely, one brow arched.
Impatient, she shrugged suddenly. “All right, you have
five weeks to try and convince me, but it’s a waste of time.” Turning, she
stepped onto the travel disc.
Catching his slow smile of victory, she scowled and
sped off.
~ * ~
What in the stars name had possessed her to agree to
his plan? Was she an idiot after all? Biting her lip, she sped through the
trees and out onto the open trail, dust swirling in her wake. Nay, she feared
the answer was more than that. Only one thing could make her agree.
She had feelings herself for him.
“Shit,” she whispered.
She needed guidance now, but the only one who could
help her wasn’t in range. Damn it.
Passing her old home, she slowed down and looked up at
it. Mayhaps what she needed was a sanctuary of her own while she was here. But
then, would she be more protected from
Aye, there was no hiding it. She was already running
scared.
Yet deep inside there was a thrilling curiosity to know
if she could truly respond to a man. To
Gradually she became aware that her head was starting
to thump with every thought, increasing as her confused emotions added to the
turmoil. ‘Twas true, she thought with a sudden wry twist of her lips. Men
were enough to make a lass’s head ache.
Swerving around the corner with an almost reckless
abandon, she saw the beautiful gardens with the statue of the original Reeka
Warrior Woman leader, Karana and her husband Vulya, rising up from the flowered
depths. Both dead a long time now.
Sabra’s gaze was suddenly drawn to the warrior leaning
against the base of the statue, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded.
Wild red-gold curls cascaded over slender shoulders. Reya.
Without really thinking about it, Sabra skimmed over
the hedge and came to rest before the warrior, who was watching her approach
without expression.
“Reya.” Sabra nodded briefly.
Reya inclined her head, studying the young Daamen.
Glancing up at the statues, Sabra’s eyes wandered over
their frozen features, seeing in the cold marble the likeness of Reya and
Tenia. They’d had a hard life and knew the power of revenge. The pull. The one
she needed wasn’t here but instinct was telling her that this cold warrior
would be the one to give her some idea of what to do. Of what she was doing.
What the hell was she doing? Her shoulders
slumped.
“Man problems,” Reya stated drily.
Sabra just looked at her tiredly. Lost.
“They have a way of distracting us from our chosen
paths. We should know better but, nonetheless, we allow ourselves to be talked
into it.”
“I think it was a mistake. Nay, I know it was.”
“Why? The same old reason? You don’t belong here?”
Glacier green eyes pinned her to the spot.
“Well, I don’t.”
“You belong where your heart is.”
“That’s nowhere, then.”
“‘Tis past time you started being truthful to
yourself, Sabra. Look deep inside you. Where is your heart?”
“Exactly there.”
“Look deeper.”
“What do you want from me?”
“That’s my question. You sought me out. What do you
wish from me?”
The headache was increasing. “That was my second
mistake.”
Humor glinted faintly in the frozen irises.
“I’m glad you’re amused.”
“You came looking for answers. Advice. Am I right?”
“You seem to know everything else,” Sabra returned
sourly.
“If I didn’t like you so much, little hunter, I’d
simply walk away from that ungracious reply. Instead, I’m going to attempt to
make you see a little reason.”
Seventeen
“Please do.” Sabra hid the unexpected pleasure the
warrior’s acknowledgment caused inside her. It made it feel as though she
actually had a friend--of sorts. At least someone who understood her.
Without changing position, Reya asked quietly,
“Firstly, tell me about
As the story unfolded, Reya studied the smaller wench.
Aye, it was as she’d suspected.
When Sabra finished, her voice trailing away and
cheeks flushed slightly, she lifted her chin. “So?”
“You have feelings for this man. Before you deny it, I
have no patience for deliberately denying what you know deep inside yourself.”
Gazing at the nodding blossoms nearby, Sabra
swallowed. “How can you tell?”
“You’d never have agreed to this plan, and it wouldn’t
have disturbed you so much.”
“Oh.” After a small silence, she admitted reluctantly,
“Aye, there is some feeling there.”
“And now you fear losing control. Losing the path
you’ve chosen.”
“Aye.”
“Paths are made to change. There are forks all along
the way. You make the choices.”
“Which I had made. Until now.”
“So, you’ve reached a fork in the path. But you’ve
time to explore the possibilities of a different path. One leads along the same
road you’ve followed for years while the other holds new challenges and
experiences.” Leaning forward, Reya placed one hand on the slumped shoulders.
“How can you make an informed choice if you don’t allow yourself to experience
what there is to be had?”
“So you’re saying I should try
“I’m saying don’t make a choice you’ll regret. Do you
really want to go through life wishing you’d taken what he’d offered? After
all, you believe revenge will give you back your soul. But will you really be
whole if you can’t face intimacy? Or even try? Or give love a chance?”
“I’m not saying I love him.”
“Fine.” Reya pushed away from the statue. “But you’re
safe with
Then she left the little hunter alone in the gardens
to ponder her words.
~ * ~
“
“I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Mayhaps I should send him up?”
Sabra glanced up at her cousin. “What are you in such
a hurry for?”
“Well, ‘tis just that Tenia and I are going to meet
with Reya, Maverk, Garret and Dana.” He grinned, eyes dancing. “It’s been
decided that we need to take Garret’s mind off the coming birth of their first
children, the twins. If we don’t, Dana’s likely to throttle him.”
“I heard he was becoming over-protective.” She was
amused.
“Maverk suggested we wait and see how long it would
take Dana to carry out her threat, but Tenia felt sorry for her, so we’re on a
mercy mission.”
“So go. I’m sure I can find my way downstairs alone.
Or
A thoughtful expression crossed Darvk’s face then he
smiled faintly. “I’m sure he could. And would. All right, lass, we’ll see you
later.”
Shaking her head, Sabra walked across the room to the
window and within minutes she watched Darvk and Tenia lead their children down
the path and out of sight. They looked so happy. Were happy. With a sigh, she
turned away and left the bedroom.
Taking the steps two at a time, she hurried down to
the study. Before she went out to see
Entering the room, she started for the desk, only to
catch a glimpse of
Curious about this trader of whom she remembered so
little, yet had known as a child, Sabra crossed the room to stand behind the
shelter of the curtain, studying Red through the partly open window.
~ * ~
“What was with you two the other day, tearing through
the streets like bats out of hell?” Red bounded up the steps and dropped down
onto the swing seat, making it creak alarmingly.
“One that earned you a few dark looks.”
“‘Twas worth it to see her laugh.”
“And where is the wench in question this fine
evening?”
“Inside somewhere, doing something.”
“How knowledgeable of you.” Red hesitated. “There has
been some news from Comll.”
“Oh?”
“Sent by Diona.”
“Are you going to tell me or do I beat it out of you?”
“I see being sweet on a certain wench hasn’t sweetened
you up.”
“I’m happy, don’t you fear. Now, the news?”
Pushing against the boards, Red set the swing in lazy
motion. “The outlaw, Barj, was murdered.”
“Set two guards outside and one inside the
Peacekeeper’s
“I can’t say I regret that. Not after what he tried to
do to my lass.”
“No need to worry over that anymore. Are you going to
tell Sabra?”
“Why not? She’ll find it interesting.”
“Hmm. There’s other news, too. I don’t know if it has
anything to do with what’s been happening.”
“If you’ve something to say, friend, say it.”
“Walot was razed to the ground. Outlaws were hung--a
rare occurrence, seeing as how none were very important.”
“Really?”
“You don’t regret it, I know.”
“No one came to her aid there, Red. I can feel no
other way toward that place. ‘Twas full of cowardly bastards.”
“Hey, ‘tis the Outlaw Sector. There’s another rumor,
by the way.”
“Seems to be an interesting time out there.”
“Word has it ‘twas bounty hunters that did it.”
“Aye. Surprising, isn’t it?”
For several seconds,
“What do you mean?”
“Sabra was there with a pack of hunters. They were
slaughtered there. I think these other hunters were out for revenge.”
The red-haired trader whistled softly. “You may be
right there.” He cast his friend another look. “Are you going to tell Sabra
this also?”
There was silence before
“Do you think ‘tis wise?”
“She’ll find out sooner or later, but that ‘tis not my
sole reason. I want our life to be shared, no secrets.”
“But this will make her only more determined to return
to the hunters. Are you sure ‘tis wise?”
Gazing out at the stars dotting the horizon, he said
quietly, “I can’t take all her choices from her, Red. What sort of love is
that, if I force her to do everything I want? She will never trust me until she
knows that I’ll keep nothing from her, that I will accept some of her
decisions.”
“And those you don’t accept?”
“We’ll work it out. We have to.” He transferred his
gaze to his friend. “‘Tis what love is. Patience, understanding. If I want to
keep her forever, I need to allow her some freedom.”
“Freedom to return to the hunters?”
An unexpected
lump blocked
“Hell, if I was a wench, I’d probably go for you
myself,” Red joked gruffly.
“I find your legs too hairy and you have no breasts to
speak of. No hips either, and your arse’s too small.”
“I’m a bit worried that you noticed all that.” Red
gave a bark of laughter. “I’d better get going before the flattery goes to my
head and I take you up on your offer.”
“No chance of that. Sabra is all I need.”
“Aye, well I hope she realizes what she has in you
before ‘tis too late. I’d hate to see both my friends’ lives wrecked.” Red
strode down the path. “I’m off to find myself a nice buxom wench.”
“You do that.”
With a cheery wave, Red
disappeared into the gathering gloom.
~ * ~
Troubled, Sabra gazed through the window up at the
stars. So, he’d tell her, would he? That remained to be seen. But ‘twas what
he’d said later, about loving her enough to allow her some freedom. Working
things out together. And after... after, when Red had left, he’d continued to
sit on the top step of the verandah and look out into the night. A lonely,
pensive figure, yet strength surrounded him. Strength of not only body but
character. Sure in his love of her, sure he could make things work between
them.
Running one finger down the cold glass, she sighed. He
was the hero of girlish dreams, a hero in flesh, regardless of his faults. And
for every fault, there was a redeeming quality.
Unbidden, she suddenly wondered what it would be like
if he really kissed her.
Leaning her head against the glass, she heaved another
sigh. One thing for sure, she wasn’t actually alarmed at the thought of being
kissed anymore. At least, not by
“What’s this?” The deep voice teased from the doorway.
“Melancholy?”
“I’m fine.”
Hearing the sober voice,
“Nothing. Everything.”
“Tell me. I might be able to fix it.”
“You can’t fix everything, you know.”
“For you, I’d try anything.”
She felt him stroke a lock of her hair hesitantly,
then the touch disappeared. He hadn’t touched her hair again since that time on
Darvk’s ship when she’d panicked. Strangely enough, it didn’t have the power to
frighten her anymore.
To cover her confusion, she said, “I saw Red leave.”
“He had some news.” There was no hesitation in the
words. “Walot was razed to the ground. Rumor has it ‘twas bounty hunters.”
There it was. The whole truth. Closing her eyes, she
bit her lip against the sudden surge of emotion. He hid nothing from her while
she...
“You deserve someone better, you know.”
“What?”
Turning, she looked steadily up at him. “I may be a
hardhearted bitch but my parents taught me early to acknowledge what was before
me, and Cormac continued that.”
“Don’t call yourself that, sweet lass.” He frowned. “I
don’t understand. What’s this about?”
“You could have kept this from me.”
Understanding lit his eyes. “You heard?”
“Every word.”
His gaze never wavered, but became more intense. “I
meant every word.”
“You are an honorable man,
“‘Twas no twist. I love you.”
“Isn’t that bad enough for you?” With sudden
exasperation, she burst out, “You offer your heart to me and show nothing but
honor and kindness. Hell, you even saved my wretched life. What do you get in
return? A wench who has been used, who’s killed and hunted, has no homely
skills, no honor, and doesn’t even know what she wants! This is a waste of
time, trying to change my mind.”
“You are my life. Without you, I have nothing.”
Tenderly he cupped her cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
“I can’t even promise you love.”
“I’ll take whatever you will give me.”
“Are you always so sure of yourself?”
“When I’m right, aye.” He brushed his lips across her
forehead. “Is there anything else?”
The chaste gesture wetted her curiosity. “I...”
“Don’t be embarrassed, lass. You know you can ask or
tell me anything.”
Hesitating, she thought, why not? Instinct made
her trust him, she wanted to know and aye, she was attracted to him. Besides,
she wasn’t going to stay here and, in all likelihood, would never see him
again. She had nothing to lose, did she? Keeping her gaze on the square
jaw, she moistened her lips nervously. “Will you kiss me?”
He stilled. Was he hearing right? Had the lass
really asked him to... “Sabra?”
“I just want to... I just...” With a groan, she
slumped back against the window. “I’m sorry. I--”
One long finger tilted her chin up and the words were
stopped by warm lips brushing hers, light as gossamer. Lingering for several
seconds before the giver drew back just the tiniest bit to allow her to protest
if she wanted.
She didn’t. It had felt.. .nice. More than nice,
mayhaps. Pleasurable. Aye.
Hope blossomed inside
Again he started to draw back, giving her the chance
to call a halt, but a thrill went through him when she followed instead,
hesitantly, aye, but a positive sign nonetheless. And he was more than willing
to see how far this delightfully promising interlude would go.
With care he deepened the kiss bit by exquisite bit,
taking his time, luring her gradually into the pleasures to be had, the hint of
more.
The feel of his mouth upon hers was indescribable.
Never had she imagined it could be like this, a tender meeting of lips that
progressively turned more gently demanding. The first tentative touch of his
tongue on her lower lip made her shiver, but not with revulsion. Unconsciously
she swayed forward, bracing her hands on the smooth, hard chest, dimly
registering the heated muscles beneath her palms. The feel of large hands
settling gently upon her waist didn’t register at all, for her senses suddenly
zeroed in on the tongue tracing the seam of her lips, seeking entrance.
Stiffening at the unexpected sensation, she felt the
immediate withdrawal of the warmth from her mouth and, with a small murmur of
protest, pressed forward, parting her lips in unspoken invitation.
At the honeyed sweetness of her mouth, Cam groaned
mentally. ‘Twas as he’d always imagined. Nay, better. Like the first
tantalizing sip of a delicacy, the exquisite flavor of the first taste of a
favored dessert. And like a man who has gone without for so long, he
hungered for more. The feel of her breasts pressed to his chest, the feminine
scent of her body, stoked the hunger to a ravenous appetite, fanning the fire
of passion. He fought the flames threatening to consume him, desperately
clinging to the awareness that she trembled beneath his hands, that she was
extremely vulnerable right now. One wrong move on his part and he would destroy
the trust she was finally showing in him.
It took all the control he possessed to keep his touch
light on her waist and his mouth from devouring hers, but the reward was
evident when she reluctantly broke the contact of their lips, tipping her head
back to gaze up at him out of eyes that shimmered faintly.
With desire.
And uncertainty. And a trace of fear at the evidence
of his arousal pressing against her stomach.
Whatever he said in the next few seconds would either
build on the budding trust or seriously damage it.
Taking a step back to give her room before she could
take the initiative first, he removed his hands from the slender waist and
looking at her steadily, said softly, “I’ll not lie to you, sweet lass. My
ardor for you is indescribable but I’ll not touch you any more than you allow until
you indicate your willingness. When that time comes, we’ll take it as slowly
and carefully as you need.” Raising her hand, he lightly brushed a kiss over
the back of it before straightening up. “I think I’ll get us a cold drink,
hmm?”
“Uh--all right.” Flustered, her heart pounding out an
erratic tattoo, she slid into the seat behind the desk. “I’m going to do a
little research.” And try to regain control of whirling senses.
I’ll be back soon.” He smiled.
The smile lasted until he left the room, then vanished
to be replaced with a silent groan. In the kitchen, he doused his face with
cold water, letting loose a gasp of pent-up frustration. Leaning his head back
against the wall, he wished for a cold shower to subdue the throbbing manhood
that jutted up painfully against his pants. God above, any more episodes
like that were likely to kill him!
~ * ~
“Are you sure of this?”
“It appears to be true.”
Thin fingers tapping his long jaw, the Overlord gazed
thoughtfully up at the ceiling. “It would appear that our narcissistic little
pirate is planning quite an awe-inspiring finale.”
“You mean he’s going to start the fight there?”
“And finish it, no doubt. Come, Veknor. You know
Darcus. No inconsequential place to show his prowess. One thing he isn’t, is a
coward. No, he’ll be right in the thick of it, as certain of his victory as
though it was already won.”
“He truly is insane if he thinks he can do it there!”
“Insane men have won many victories in the past, my
loyal little friend. How do you think I got where I am today?”
The question took the ebony pirate off-guard and he
stared uncertainly for several seconds at the Overlord. Was he saying...?
An amused laugh hissed out over the viscomm. “You are
a stolid man, Veknor, but I see your sudden distrust. That is good, very good,
for a wise man trusts no one. Especially those in power.” The Overlord paused
before adding, “Or those who seek power.” Another pause. “Or those who strive
to take it from one another.”
“I feel better now,” Veknor recovered himself enough
to reply dryly.
“So you do trust that I joke with you, hmm?”
“Hell no.”
Pink eyes narrowed in amusement. “You learn much from
me. Aren’t you glad you’re on my side?”
“I’m too frightened not to be.”
“You flatter me.” The milk-white face sobered, thin
mouth pulling tight. “When does he plan this?”
“The times are still not know but Fredrico thinks it
won’t be long. Darcus feels the power within his reach and grows impatient.”
“Never judge too quickly. He’s planned this a long
time, too long to risk destroying it.”
“Not if he grows overconfident. Time will tell.”
“Time is the important factor, Veknor. Time.” Vertical
pupils dilated. “Things are nearly in order but I must know the time, day and
location.”
“My men are keeping their ears and eyes trained for
any information filtering through. Whatever they hear will be passed onto you
without delay, though I must admit, rumors seem to be rife. So perhaps the
place we were informed of--”
“Rumors serve to confuse any possible enemy. No, that
is the place. I feel it in my... well, I can’t very well say bones, for I have
none. But it will be there, no other will be more impressive or awe-inspiring.
The time, Veknor. I need the time and day.”
~ * ~
Shaken by her response to
Licking dry lips, she fancied she could still feel the
hard muscles against her softness. And his gentleness. And his arousal.
Her hands trembled slightly as she waited for the
touch screen to appear. Disturbing thoughts were hovering tantalizingly on the
edges of her conscience, ones she didn’t have the courage to bring out into the
open and scrutinize.
Focusing on the screen, she took several calming
breaths.
She wanted information. Her hunter’s sixth sense was
whispering a warning, one she’d learned a long time ago to never ignore.
Typing in the bounty hunters’ code, she waited as a
blank box appeared, then a blue ray beamed out, scanning her face for several
seconds before blinking off once she was approved. A list of outlaws
materialized suddenly and she brought up the article on Barj. Shot in the cell.
Not released. The guards knocked unconscious but left alive. It didn’t make
sense. The other outlaws she’d encountered in the tavern had not been found.
Not that she’d expected them to be. Not with Fredrico leading them.
Touching several different codes on the screen, she
brought up the pirate’s portfolio and skimmed through the contents before
sitting back to stare at his photo image. What had he been doing in the Lawful
Sector? ‘Twasn’t his style.
“Who’s this?”
“Hmm?” She looked around to see Cam entering the room,
an inquiring expression on his face. His curious gaze slid from her face to the
screen.
“Fredrico.”
“The pirate.” Moving up behind her, Cam studied the
photo image. “Light reading, lass?”
“There’s no reason I can think of that this pirate is
in the Lawful Sector.”
“He’s a pirate. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“Not this far in. ‘Tis highly risky.” Turning back to
the screen, she touched a command and Barj’s photo image appeared. “His bounty
is too high to risk being here, too. So why?”
Leaning his forearms on the back of the chair, Cam
leaned forward. “Mayhaps there’s something luring him out here.”
“My sixth sense tells me something is seriously
wrong.”
“Why don’t you hand your suspicions on to our
peacekeepers and let them pursue this?”
“Because these suspicions are mine and until I have
concrete evidence that something big is brewing, no one is going to take me
seriously. I know; I’ve been through this many times--on both sides of the
fence.”
Studying her face, seeing the animation on the
expressive features, Cam saw a new side to the wench. A small frown marred the
smooth brow and those intense eyes were narrowed faintly in concentration. It
would be interesting to see her in action.
Disturbingly aware of his breath stirring the tendrils
of hair at her temple as he peered over her shoulder at the screen, she cleared
her throat and pointed to Barj. “As I said before, he’s wanted for rape and
murder. Ten thousand dinnos, dead or alive. I recognized the other outlaws and
their bounties are nearly as high. So why would they appear here?”
“Because no one would expect them to be.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
“You’re convinced of this, aren’t you?”
“Oh aye. A group of high-bounty prey can be found
further inside the Outlaw Sector, but not on the edges. It makes no sense to
discover a group in the middle of the Lawful Sector.” Getting caught up in her
thoughts, she ran her hand across the lower half of her face. “They’re up to
something, I know it.”
Intending to ask a question, Cam looked at her but was
captivated by several things at once. Firstly, her hair was pulled back in a
loose pony-tail and held in place with one of his bandannas, the yellow one
he’d left here when young Sharrie had grabbed it one day and wouldn’t let go.
To have Sabra wearing it was oddly intimate. Secondly, the blonde lock had
slipped loose and was now caressing her cheek. Thirdly, his attention was
caught by her other hand blindly seeking across the desk.
“What are you looking for, lass?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” She pulled her hand back.
But as she continued to stare at the screen, her hand
started to move restlessly. Stealing a glance at her profile, he saw her
unconsciously nibbling her bottom lip. A sudden thought came to him and,
straightening, he left the room.
Eighteen
She registered his absence quickly and felt bereft,
then tried to shrug it off nonchalantly. What had she expected?
Shaking her head, she channeled her thoughts back to
the problem at hand. It wouldn’t do to be sidetracked. Within seconds she was
focused once more on the screen, touching it to bring up the image of the other
outlaws she’d recognized that day.
Coming back into the room,
“I thought you’d gone.”
“We’ve just started this, lass, or have you already
solved it?” he teased.
“Nay. But I will, don’t you fear.” Returning her
attention to the screen, she added, “These are Barj’s cronies. Or were. They
could have been the ones to shoot him but I doubt it.”
“Why?” Reaching out around her,
“You’re half right in that he had to be killed to
protect their plans but they didn’t do it.” Without thought, her hand went
searching across the desk, encountered the apple, and scooped it up neatly.
After a quick polish on her tunic top, she bit into it and released a small
sigh of pleasure.
The corners of
“Now, Fredrico is another part of this puzzle.” She
brought his photo image up and with several deft touches, made the images
smaller, organizing them beside each other. Then she added the four other
outlaws. “His connection with outlaws is hard to believe.”
“Why?”
“Because pirates consider themselves a cut above
them.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nay. Only on rare occasions have they ever worked
together--and that’s for no good. The fact that ‘tis here,” she bit off another
piece of apple, “is bad. Very bad.”
“So how are you going to find out what they’re up to?”
Kneeling down behind her,
The intimate action momentarily diverted her, but her
attention was quickly drawn back to the screen at his question. Besides,
she admitted silently, ‘twas rather... nice... to feel him so close. And
it caused no alarm, so she decided to enjoy it. For now.
Taking a deep breath, she tapped another command on
the screen, bringing up a section of galaxy map. “I’m curious to find out if
other outlaws have been spotted nearby.”
Caught up now in the intrigue of it all,
“Correct.” Feeling the calloused fingers gently
twirling and stroking her hair, she waited for the shiver of revulsion to
course through her and was amazed to register instead how pleasant it felt.
“Sabra?”
“Aye?” She cleared her throat.
“Now what?”
Glancing sideways, she found his face alive with
curiosity and interest. ‘Twas more than obvious that he had no idea of what his
errant fingers were doing. And she wasn’t going to pull away.
Taking another bite of apple, she touched the screen
again. “This is to mark the places in which outlaws or pirates have been seen.
The blue markers are outlaws, the red are pirates.”
Silently they watched several markers blip to life.
“‘Doesn’t seem so bad,”
“It depends on who these outlaws are.” Touching the
screen commands, she frowned as seven photo images emerged. “Hell.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Four of these are two-bit outlaws, but these three at
the bottom are all wanted for murder of men, wenches and children. We chased
them all over the Outlaw Sector until they fled into the middle of it, out of
our reach.”
“I don’t think I really wanted to know that.”
At the grim tone, she looked questioningly at him.
“The fact that you were in danger.”
“I was with Cormac and the others.”
“But ‘twas still dangerous.” He sighed, his hand
sliding up beneath her hair to knead the back of her neck lightly. “Never
mind.”
Her lids fluttered shut and a soft moan escaped her.
Instantly he stilled. “Did I hurt you, lass?”
“Nay.” She suddenly slanted him a humorous smile. “It
has the strange effect of--”
“Making you want me?”
“Smirking won’t help. Nay, it makes me feel sleepy.”
“It’s never had that effect before.” He feigned an
injured air.
“First time for everything.” Straightening up, she
wiped the faces from the screen and enlarged the galaxy map until it
encompassed the whole awesome Lawful Sector.
Turning his eyes back to the screen,
“Aye.” Forcing her mind from the soothing motions of
the sure fingers, she finished the commands.
Blips appeared on the screen, blue intermingled with
several red.
“This is not good.”
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s too many sightings for simple coincidence.”
Leaning forward, she brought up the faces belonging to the blips. “Bloody
hell.”
Sharply
“Spot on. All wanted for murder, all with high prices
on their heads. Now let’s see if there’s a pattern to this.”
Impressed by her agile mind and analytic thinking,
“Well, look here.” Leaning back in the chair and
taking a bite from the apple, Sabra studied the screen. “Those lines--”
“Show that some of these outlaws have been seen on
more than one planet?”
“Exactly. Too many planets.”
“So what do you think is happening?”
“Something big is brewing. And here’s another hunch
we’re going to follow.” At his questioning look, she added, “My bet is that any
outlaw that has been captured is not alive now.”
Understanding dawned swiftly. “Murdered?”
“Aye.”
Within minutes they were reading the report of ten
outlaws caught. All had been murdered while in the Peacekeepers’ Enforcement
Buildings on the various planets.
“So there’s a conspiracy.”
“Correct.”
“Now what?”
“Now I want to know what the bounty hunters think.”
Immediately she felt the tension emanate from him, though he tried to hide it
when she looked at him. “
“Nothing,” he replied gruffly.
“I can feel you don’t like my intention.”
“I can’t help it. This takes some getting used to.” He
met her gaze steadily. “I can’t help but feel this could become dangerous.”
“‘Twill be more so if I don’t find out what is
happening. Don’t fret. I’m perfectly safe here.” A teasing note entered her
voice. “Aren’t you always telling me you Daamens protect your lasses?”
“I’ll protect you with my life,” he returned quietly.
The intensity in his eyes captivated her, the
protectiveness of his big body so near--leaning over hers, in fact--sent heat
racing through her. Turning her head more fully, her gaze dropped to his lips.
Like the man, they were sensual yet manly, firm yet soft. Her own parted
slightly.
There was no doubting the sudden flare of interest and
desire that lit her eyes, and
A knock on the door made both of them look around.
“Wonder who that is?” Sighing,
“Er--I think I know.”
He turned to look at Sabra, who was getting to her
feet. “You do? Something about Barj, you think?”
“I doubt that.” She started across the room. “You see
there was a little something I forgot to tell you.”
“A little--Sabra! Wait!” Long legs rapidly ate the
distance up between the window and the door, and he caught her arm just as she
entered the hall. “What is it?”
“Well, you know the photo images we brought up?”
“Aye.”
“‘Tis actually not quite a legal thing to do. On
normal settlers’ viscomms, anyway.”
“Not a...” He stared at her. “Sabra, what have you
done?”
“I thought we were in this together?” One brow arched
up.
Now he could see the wicked glint in her eyes.
“Sabra--”
A sharp rap sounded again on the door.
“Stay here.” He stepped in front of her. “I’ll deal
with this.”
“Not without me, you’re not.” She pushed in front of
him. “This is my call.”
“Damn it--”
“Bounty hunters and peacekeepers get on so well.” She
grinned. “You know that.”
Aye, he remembered it well. Comll and the baiting of
the peacekeeper there. Reaching out to drag the infuriating wench back, he
swore as she lunged at the door, grasped the handle and swung it open.
Gazing up at the two giant Daamen peacekeepers, she
smiled widely. “Can I help you?”
“I think you can.” The peacekeeper with shaggy blonde
hair tied back folded his arms across his massive chest, making the muscles
beneath the Daamen Peacekeepers’ dark tunic top flex impressively. He gazed
down at her expressionlessly. “We’ve had an interesting electrical reading
coming from this dwelling.”
“You don’t say?” Feeling
“Behave yourself, wench,”
“Hello,
“For us both, Davan, let me assure you--”
“I doubt he’s used to the law fronting up to the
doorstep,” Sabra broke in cheerfully. “But I’m not. What’s the problem?”
“I take it this is Sabra?” Moreb studied the pretty
face upturned to them, noting with interest the sparkle in her eyes.
Instinctively
“I hope so. ‘Tis not a legal one, you know.”
“So I found out.” He gave the slender shoulders
beneath his hands a subtle squeeze.
“And your explanation?” Davan asked.
“Mayhaps you should ask me.” Sabra folded her arms.
“‘Tis mine to give, not his.”
His gaze shifted, studying her. “You caused the
readings?”
“Most assuredly. Had a lovely time, too. Very
informative.”
“Sabra--”
“Most impressed with your reference list of outlaws
and pirates. You must update often.”
Davan and Moreb exchanged a glance before zeroing
their attention back onto her.
“How did you manage to break the code?” Moreb asked
sharply.
Break the code?
“Quite easily, actually. Once you know how.” Lifting
the half eaten apple to her mouth, she took an enthusiastic bite.
“Please, do share it with us.” The smile on the
dark-haired peacekeeper’s face was not friendly.
“Surely you know the code? Oh, you mean how did I know
it?” The nudge at the back of her leg was not so subtle. “I’ve known it for a
long time. Used it often, in fact. Aye, an illegal move.”
“Just tell us.”
“Oh, very well. I was told the code a long time ago.
Actually, it changes often, so fairly recently I heard of the new code.
Anything else?” Seeing the thunder collecting in Moreb’s eyes, she swallowed a
grin.
“Why did you tap into the listings?” Davan asked.
“For information.”
“Ah, now it makes some sense. You were the bounty
hunter. I recollect the story now.” His eyes lifted to gaze at
“Not past, peacekeeper.” Sabra raised her chin. “I’m
still a hunter.”
“I doubt that, lass. No Daamen wench--”
“She speaks true.”
Shock appeared briefly on the men’s faces but it was
Moreb who said incredulously, “You’re not serious!”
Conscious of the tension in the slender body pressed
back against his,
“I was under the impression that Sabra’s your wench.”
Davan frowned. “Yet you allow her to pursue a dangerous occupation?”
“‘Tis her choice and one I support.”
Seeing the reproving expressions cross the Daamen’s
faces, Sabra suddenly realized what it meant for
In so many ways, he’d given up a lot for her.
A surge of protectiveness heated her. “My life is in
no danger and there is no way
“Easy, lass.”
“It makes no difference. They have no right to condemn
you for a choice I make. Or would you wrench that choice from me, peacekeepers,
if you could?” Futilely tugging against the hold Cam had on her, she spat,
“I’ve hunted and hung more dangerous bastards than you two put together, so one
more word or look of accusation against Cam and I’ll put you both next on my
list!”
Startled, the Daamen peacekeepers actually took a step
back from the fury blazing in her eyes. Face expressionless,
Davan was the first to recover. “My apologies, Sabra.
You’re correct, ‘tis not our business--”
“You got that right!”
“Aye, I certainly did. Mayhaps we should get back to
the business at hand.”
Not yet ready to give up defending
Meeting his calm gaze, she took a deep breath. He
nodded.
Setting her jaw, she returned her gaze to the two peacekeepers.
“Being a bounty hunter grants me the privilege of tapping into your listings of
outlaws and pirates, as you know. Incidentally, I found something very
interesting.”
Still frowning, Davan looked down at her. “What?”
“Outlaw activity in the galaxy has picked up.”
“More than normal, aye, but--”
“These outlaws are wanted for more than simple
law-breaking. Haven’t you noticed the caliber of these outlaws? And what of the
pirates? They’ve never been seen so far into the Lawful Sector since the murder
of my parents.”
Pursing his lips, Davan looked at Moreb. “If what she
says is true--”
“It is,”
“Very well. This merits further investigation. I thank
you for bringing it to our attention,” Davan nodded to her, then
“Question?” Sabra raised one brow disdainfully.
A reluctant smile quirked his mouth. “I stand
corrected--again. As a bounty hunter, her information is important to this
investigation.” Seeing the challenge in the hunter’s eyes, he shook his head
ruefully. “If ‘tis all right by you, Sabra.”
“I’m always here to assist a peacekeeper.”
“Call me Davan. All my friends do.”
The offer of friendship was unexpected and she eyed
him suspiciously.
“You have your hands full there,
Watching them near the gate, Sabra heard a sarcastic
tone ring out loudly. “Finally been told to keep your nose out of everyone
else’s business, Davan?”
“What are you doing out here at this time of night,
Delias?”
“Watching you get the serving you deserve. Nice work,
Sabra!”
“I bet your brother doesn’t know you’re not safe in
your bed.”
“Red has his own agenda--a wench with an inflated
chest, to be exact.”
“Crudeness ill becomes you, wench.”
“You’ve been told once tonight already, Davan. Want me
to repeat it?”
“Come on,” Moreb sighed resignedly. “We’ll walk you
home.”
“These streets are as safe as being in my own bed! No
Daamen would lay a finger on me.”
Even though she couldn’t see the speaker, Sabra could
well imagine the toss of the head.
“‘Twasn’t just a finger I was thinking of laying on
you, wench.”
“Threatening violence? In front of witnesses? What
sort of peacekeeper are you, Davan?”
“Come on.”
“Unhand me, you oaf!”
“We can’t leave her out there with--”
“They’re old friends. Or to be more precise, old
enemies. Delias delights in tormenting my poor friend.”
“Friend?” Scowling, Sabra spun to face him. “What sort
of friend judges another?”
“Davan is first and foremost a peacekeeper, as well as
being a firm believer in the customs and laws of Daamen. The safety of the
Daamen people comes first with him, regardless of friendships. I respect him
for that.”
“I’m truly touched.”
“No one criticizes the man I love and gets away with
it! Peacekeeper or not, I’ll--” She took in his sudden stillness, the flash of
hope in his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What did you say?”
“Peacekeeper or not--”
“Nay. Before that.” He took a slow step toward her.
“I said that no one criticizes the man... I...
love...” The words trailed away as she stared at him in shock.
Closing the distance between them, he gently gripped
her upper arms. “You said you love me.”
She didn’t know what to say. There was no way she
could love him. He’d taken her away from all she’d known, was seeking to keep
her here. She should hate him. At the most, mayhaps like him. A little. Not
much. She... loved him.
“Oh God.”
“Is it that bad?” He tried to smile over the pain her
troubled expression caused him.
Even through her confusion, she registered his pain,
and instantly reached out to comfort him. “Nay,
It was all he’d dreamed of hearing, the sweet words a
balm to his starving heart. Without hesitation he gathered her into his
embrace, hugging her close and bending his head over hers to inhale the fresh scent
of her hair.
The scent of Sabra.
He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry for joy at her
confession. She loved him. Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on the
top of her head.
Her arms slowly crept around his waist and she leaned
into him, hugging him in turn.
Sabra felt him move slightly, the lift of his cheek
from her head followed by the faint brush of his kiss against her hair. Tension
eased from her as his mouth traced down the side of her face, pressing soft
kisses against her cool cheek.
Slowly he trailed his hands lightly up her arms until
he cupped her cheeks, gently tipping her head back.
Meeting the dark eyes gazing down at her so lovingly,
so longingly, all she could do was part her lips in shy invitation.
Without hesitation, he leaned down to claim the kiss
she offered. But he took her mouth gently, tenderly. Worshiping her.
It was a kiss that shook her to her soul and she
responded by opening to him, welcoming him in, reacquainting herself with his
clean, fresh taste.
He gladly took what she gave so freely, savoring the
sweet flavor of apple mixed with her own distinctive essence. But it wasn’t
enough. He wanted more. Craved it. Wanted to be one with her, to be inside her,
to feel her around him.
Bestowing a last lingering kiss to the full lips, he
drew back slightly. “Let me love you, Sabra.”
Nineteen
The words were breathed into her mouth, sending little
sparks tingling throughout her body. Calloused palms sliding down her arms left
trails of pleasure to tantalize and tease of hidden delights.
Intimate delights. Intimacy. Joining with this giant
of a man. The thought made her tense.
“I vow I’ll not hurt you, sweet lass.” Sensing the
turmoil within her,
There was no denying the urge to be closer to him, but
apprehension niggled at the edges of her mind. Pain.
Lifting his head, he noted the haunted expression in
her eyes. “Tell me what it is that worries you so, Sabra.”
The compassion in his gaze gave her the courage to
whisper, “‘Tis the joining. You’re so...big.”
“Wench is made for man.”
“But Darcus was bigger than me.” She shied from the
memory. “It hurt so much...”
Anger at what the bastard had caused her was brought
quickly under control in the face of her anguish. “You were but a child, not
yet ready to join with a man. You were still developing. The pain would have
been indescribable. But now you are a wench grown, with a body ready to accept
a man. To accept me.”
“I know ‘tis ridiculous--”
“Nay, ‘tis only natural. But trust me, sweet lass, to
show you how wonderful it will be.” Raising her hand to his lips, he brushed a
kiss across the small knuckles, his gaze tender. Understanding. Passionate. “If
you fear me so much, I’ll not pressure you into this. I can wait.”
“‘Tis unfair to you--”
“Never. If need be, I will wait a lifetime for you.
When we join, I want it to be with mutual desire and love, and trust that I’d
never hurt you.”
Always the giver. No condemnation, just unconditional
love. How she yearned to be a part of him. To feel his love not just
spiritually and emotionally, but physically, too. To continually fear him,
knowing how he loved her, was foolish.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
Heart leaping, he held his breath. “Lass?”
“I love and trust you. I know you won’t hurt me.” The
smooth cheeks pinkened. “Show me.”
The words swelled through him and for a second he
couldn’t breathe. The lass he loved was offering that for which he ached. The
blessed closeness of lovers. Emotion filled him but he kept his face calmly
loving. “You’re safe in my hands, sweet lass.”
Her heart beat fast as, without another word, he
turned and led her out of the room, down the hall and up the stairs to her
bedroom, her hand clasped securely in his large one. Part of her couldn’t
believe she’d actually agreed but another part, the one that wanted to please
this gentle giant, this childhood protector, leaped to life. Awareness flared
of the strength in the hard-muscled body, the firmness of his clasp, the
unfaltering stride. The light from the wall lamp they passed played over the
smooth skin of his chest, arms and back, picking out the swells and dips, the
movement of leashed power.
Her mouth went dry. Soon she’d be beneath all that
muscle, feeling the strength around her. On her. In her.
She felt the encouraging squeeze of
He led her through the door and into the bedroom. The
lamp was the only light in the room, casting the big bed in its glow while
softening the darkness just beyond it.
Wanting her to feel on an equal footing, trying to
avoid towering over her, Cam sat down on the edge of the bed, which brought
their faces level. Transferring his hands to the slender waist, he drew her
forward to stand between his thighs.
The lamplight picked out the blonde lock of hair that
fell so enchantingly down the side of her face to drape across her smooth, bare
shoulder, and he couldn’t resist running it between thumb and forefinger,
following its silky length down until he reached its end, his knuckles coming
to rest against the soft swell of breast. Beneath the tunic, he felt the
distinct pebbling of a small nipple.
Pulses quickening in response, he raised his heated
gaze to meet cobalt eyes flickering with the beginnings of desire. Keeping
their gazes locked, he slowly turned his hand until he cupped the firm globe in
his palm.
The deep breath she took pressed her breast fully into
his hand and she bit her lip as he gently kneaded the fullness, rotating his
palm against a suddenly sensitized nipple. Before she could stop it, a low moan
escaped her.
“Sabra,” he whispered huskily, and his other hand on
her waist urged her forward until she stood flush against him.
She only had time to lay her hands on his shoulders to
steady herself before his lips met hers. His tongue swept soothingly across the
delicate skin she’d bitten, laving it before he kissed her. Deeply. Longingly.
Taking possession of her mouth, sweeping inside,
tasting the honeyed depths. At the same time his hand traced the curves of her
hip and waist, sliding around to spread over the swell of trim buttocks,
pulling her closer still.
God, he needed to feel more than just her body beneath
fabric. His fingers tingled to caress naked, silky skin.
The sensations tumbling through her veins were
unbelievable. The hot mouth abandoning hers made her groan a protest.
“Shh, sweet lass,” was breathed against her throat,
making her tingle.
Then the tingling was replaced by a heated pull that
went clear to the secrets of her inner womanhood as those hot lips pressed to
her throat in an open-mouthed kiss that slid lower, stopping only briefly along
the way to give one leisurely, long suck here and there, making spirals of heat
dance along her veins.
She’d never felt more alive. Everywhere
The light tunic dropped to her feet but before she
could even feel a twinge of embarrassment, those hot kisses inflamed the embers
as they were pressed onto her shoulders. And lower.
And lower.
Looking down, Sabra was entranced by the dark head
descending down her body as he knelt before her on one knee. She could see that
his eyes were closed, an almost blissful expression on the dangerously handsome
face as he kissed and tasted his way across her creamy flesh. When he shifted
slightly, she saw that her breasts were naked, nipples straining outward. His
cheek brushed against one and he stilled.
Holding her breath, she clutched his shoulders,
wondering... would he?
The smile that curved his mouth was almost sinful, and
the thick lashes lifted.
Satisfaction swept through him at the pleasured shock
that flitted across her beautiful face and he closed his lips over her nipple,
drawing it deep into the hot recesses of his mouth, and gave it a long, slow
suck.
All strength fled her legs but she didn’t fall. In a
haze of fevered ardor she had no idea how he did it, but without stopping the
delightful torment of her breast, Cam lifted himself to sit on the edge of the
bed and eased her down across his lap, bending her back over one brawny arm to
give him greater access to the rounded breasts. As he sucked one taut nipple
with an expert mouth, he cupped her other breast in a large hand, grazing his
thumb teasingly over the aching bud.
Bracing her palm on his knee and curling her hand
around one broad shoulder, she arched back, moaning as embers flared into
flames that licked out in fiery tongues from her breasts to the hidden
mysteries between her thighs. Restlessly her legs shifted, trying to ease the
ache gathering there.
Feeling the movement, it took all
With a low growl of approval, he captured her mouth,
and was immediately captured in return. Her response was hot, carnal. She took
possession of his mouth, her small tongue sweeping in, laying claim to the
masculine essence of him.
Now ‘twas she who couldn’t get enough of
With a harsh sound,
Inky curls spilled down to mix with her own tresses on
the pillow and she felt surrounded by his love and warmth, his very being.
Strong hands carefully lifted her hips, skimming the lacy scrap of underwear
off her easily, then she was bared to his view, the impassioned gaze that swept
down the length of her body and back up, hungry and hot.
She was perfect. Rounded breasts and hips, slender
waist, long legs.
Sabra would have died of embarrassment if she didn’t
know how hungry he was for her. The many scars on her body didn’t revolt him.
Even as she thought it, he reached out and ran a gentle finger over the scar on
her chest before dipping his head to place a loving kiss atop it. He did the
same with another scar on her rib, a third on her stomach, a fourth just above
her knee, yet another on her thigh... She stiffened.
Glancing up,
Soothing her unease was more important now. Mentally
chiding himself for moving too fast,
And himself. The brush of her nipples against his
chest as he leaned over her tormented him, leaving pinpricks of heat on his
skin. Her scent filled his senses, teasingly intoxicating. His manhood throbbed
almost painfully, surging against his pants, demanding release in more ways
than one.
When those slender arms crept around his back, lithe
fingers tracing his spine, his pulse leapt hotly, flames flickering through his
veins, burning a path clear to his loins. Now he needed more. He needed to remove
his constricting pants.
Sabra felt him pull away slightly, but he didn’t take
his lips from hers. He shifted, leaning back a little, then suddenly the bed
dipped and his body was atop her. Skin to skin, hard muscles to soft curve.
Heat to heat.
She looked up to see him above her, gazing down into
her eyes. Most of his upper weight rested upon his forearms, which lay either
side of her shoulders. But the lower half of his body rested heavily on her and
instinctively she parted her legs, allowing his hips to ease down between her
thighs, lessening the weight.
His pupils dilated and he sucked in a harsh breath as
the tip of his rod brushed the damp curls. By the suns, she was wet for him.
The heat from the entrance to her body beckoned him to thrust forward, to
bury himself deep within her, and he started to press into the tender folds,
feeling them almost scald him erotically with the fiery mist of arousal.
Sabra struggled to fight down the demons of the past
that threatened to rise up and destroy this most wondrous of experiences.
Desperately she kept her gaze on the passion-filled face of the man above her,
afraid that if for one second she wavered, another face would take his place,
one that would make her freeze.
The feel of the hot tip pushing into her broke through
the desire, invading the beauty of the lovemaking, bringing back an almost
vivid picture of another time, and another hardness. Pain. Harsh laughter
and panting breaths, grunts... Her nails tightened convulsively on his
back.
It was the sharp sting on his back that jolted
Finally he was under control enough to speak huskily.
“Sabra? What is wrong?”
“N-nothing.”
“Am I hurting you, lass? If so--”
“Nay.” She blinked back tears.
If he wasn’t hurting her, then it could mean only one
thing--and the haunted look in her eyes just before she lowered thick lashes in
an attempt to hide it proved it. Loving protectiveness flooded him and he
relaxed the tense muscles in his arms, allowing himself to ease down until he
rested chest to breast, and cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Look at me, sweet
lass.”
“Please
“Aye, you’re right there. ‘Tis all right. Look at me.
Now.”
Reluctantly she obeyed the quiet order, lifting her
lashes to meet his eyes. His face was serious, the strain of leashed passion
making a muscle tick in the square jaw, yet his concern was only for her.
Again.
“‘Tis all right to tell me how you feel. At any time.
If this lovemaking brings back such bad memories--”
“Nay, what happened before can’t even begin to compare
with this.”
“Good. Then do exactly as I say.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Who am I?”
Bewildered, she stared up at him.
“Who am I?” he repeated patiently, but more firmly.
“
“And what am I to you?”
“My... lover?”
He could feel her relax slightly beneath him and
pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. “And as your lover, I am sworn to what?”
“Protect me.” A delicious shiver went through her at
the rasp of his tongue just below her ear. “What else, sweet lass?” He nipped
the small earlobe lightly, teasingly.
“Love me.”
“Aye, and ‘tis loving you I’m doing now. Me. Who am
I?”
“
He heard her breath catch as he traced the kisses
lower, deliberately dragging his lips down the length of the delicately arched
throat. “And what am I to you?”
“My lover.” She ended on a moan as he sucked lightly
on the pulse starting to beat rapidly.
Capturing her mouth, he plundered it suddenly, tongue
darting in and sweeping around before withdrawing quickly, leaving her gasping.
“And that means?” He trailed one hand down her side.
“You’re... sworn...” She arched up as his palm
abruptly cupped her breast, kneading lightly.
“I’m sworn to what?” How he loved watching her start
to lose control, her eyes cobalt depths of swirling night flecked with stars of
desire.
“Protect me.” As his hand trailed lower, she closed
her eyes.
“Look at me.”
She did as bidden, only to grab the broad shoulders
when she felt his hand brush the curls at the apex of her thighs.
Before apprehension could set in, he repeated, “What
else am I sworn to do, sweet little Sabra?”
“Love me.” She bit her lip against the heady
sensations that washed over her as one long finger lightly drew down the cleft
of her folds.
“Aye, and ‘tis loving you I’m doing now. Me.” The
muscle in his jaw ticked as he inserted one fingertip between the delicate
folds and felt the damp heat coat it. “Who am I?”
“
“Keep your eyes on me, little wench.”
Sabra wanted to close her eyes, to savor the feelings
making her tremble and ache, but the man above her refused to allow it, his
orders gentle but insistent. Dark eyes glowed with fire, searing her with
passion, and holding her gaze prisoner.
“What am I to you?”
“My lover--” She ended on a gasp as his finger slid
into her tight sheath and out again.
It was as though fire ran through her veins, an
answering fire she saw reflected in his eyes. Heat spiraled into the depths of
her womanhood but she couldn’t squeeze her thighs together--against it or to
hold it, she wasn’t sure. There was no relief.
“Please,” she whispered, reaching up for him.
“What else am I to you?” He slid his finger once more
into the hot wetness, clenching his teeth.
“Please!” She gasped as his thumb pressed on the tiny
bud hidden in the slick folds, unable to writhe with his weight holding her
down, but a mass of writhing nerves screamed inside her. Screamed for relief.
“Answer me.” Or ‘twas surely going to kill him to hold
back. But he must, just for a few precious seconds longer.
“My only love.” She started to turn her face away,
trying to seek relief any way she could, but his other hand cupped her chin,
forcing her to remain facing him.
“And what am I sworn to do?” Sweat beaded his forehead
and his heart was pounding.
“
“What, Sabra?”
“Protect me,” she whimpered. “Oh God,
“And what else am I sworn to do?” The deep growl was
fraught with heated desire too long suppressed. Removing his finger, he kneaded
the heel of his hand against the soft mound. “Look at me when you answer.”
“Love me!” she almost screamed aloud with frustration
Removing his hand, he lifted himself above her,
positioning his throbbing rod at the quivering entrance. “Aye, and ‘tis loving
you I’m doing now.” Slowly, torturously, he slid inch by excruciating inch into
the tight heat, feeling the walls of her vagina starting to ripple. “Me.”
She was almost at fever pitch, needing all of him
inside her to ease the throbbing of a kind she’d never known. Pressure was
building inside her, unbearable, aching, and heart-stopping. Bending her knees,
she felt him slip further inside, her body opening up to receive him greedily.
It felt heavenly. Magnificent. Almost perfect but not...complete.
Lust nearly overwhelmed him. His iron will was
cracking, bending beneath the blatantly sexual invitation in her eyes, the
sensuous rubbing of her smooth legs against his. But he wasn’t quite finished.
“Who am I?” he asked hoarsely.
“
“And what am I to you?” He dipped his head down lower,
just touching his lips to hers, the barest brush of skin on skin.
A damp curl tumbled down past her cheek and, reaching
up, she entangled her fingers in the long thick mass spilling over the brawny
shoulders. “My lover!” Pulling his head down the last precious inch, she
claimed his mouth with a carnal fierceness.
The hedonistic action made his control slip
dangerously and he was aware that he was hanging on by the merest thread. One
wrong move and, God forgive him, he’d take her like a ravenous beast. It
shouldn’t be. He was supposed to be gentle and caring, a lover who initiated
her into lovemaking attentively. He’d meant to push her boundaries but hadn’t
counted on his own treacherous libido.
He would be gentle. He could do it. Muscles tense, sweat now dampening his back, he
started to push carefully forward.
Sabra was having none of it. She burned for him.
Placing her mouth next to his ear, she ordered breathlessly, “Take me! Now!”
The last strand snapped and with a groan of surrender,
He couldn’t hold back. Withdrawing, he thrust back in
again and again, his heart pounding. Raising up on his arms enabled him to look
down, to see her arch back against the mattress. The small nipples topping the
firm breasts were now deep pink, almost rosy, and hard with arousal. Part of
him, the gentler side, wanted to taste them, tease them, take them deep into
his mouth, but the other side, more carnal, almost bestial, gave him no release
to do so.
Urgency filled him, blinding him to all but the lust
consuming him. The need to be in her, deep inside where the flames of
fulfillment danced but eluded him. He pumped harder, faster, feeling the
gathering of a storm inside him. It was as though lightning was flaring through
his veins, sizzling as it went, laying bare pure sexual need that he didn’t
realize had been hidden. Waiting. Waiting for Sabra, he thought dimly,
as if from a long way away. Only for her. Only with her. Never would he
feel this way with anyone else, he knew it deep in his soul. With the thought
came love. Intense, fierce, overwhelming.
He craved her as a thirsty man would water.
And she craved him. Matching him thrust for thrust,
hard and fast, falling in easily with his rhythm as though they’d made love a
hundred times before together. He branded her with the essence from his
manhood, the burning length of him filling her, stoking the furnace deep inside
to a fiery pitch.
When he raised up, she reached for his arms and
wrapped her fingers around the bulging biceps, needing to hold onto him as he
stroked forcefully into her. Then his welcome weight came down upon her again,
her breasts crushed against his powerful chest, and his eyes gazed down at her
with a mixture of burning passion and love. She couldn’t find any words to tell
him how much she loved him, how she gloried in being so intimate with him. How
she revered the feel of him inside her. The only thing she could do was place a
hand on his chest, feeling the pounding heart beneath her palm.
Without breaking the hard rhythm,
The fires of arousal scorched through them both,
leaping from one to another and back again. They strained towards each other,
panting breaths mingling.
He pumped urgently and gave a muffled groan of ecstasy
when he felt slim legs lift and wrap around his waist, opening her wider, and
he stroked deeper.
It was as though he touched the very core of her,
pulsing deep within, and with a cry she exploded into a million fragments of
intense, glorious sensation, splintering like shards of crystal.
The muscles of her sheath rippled, gripping his
manhood in an erotic spasm, catapulting him into an orgasm so soul-shattering,
he felt that her small, exquisite body would consume him in its carnal
fierceness.
Flinging his head back, he poured his seed deep within
her, feeling her sheath milk him, taking all he had to give in a molten tide of
wet heat. He shuddered at the ecstasy, straining forward.
Only when he was completely and deliciously drained
did he slump down atop her, burying his face in the damp curve of her shoulder
and neck, the sound of her pounding heart matching his, music to his ears.
His panting breath was hot on her skin and she could
only lie back in exhausted wonderment, reveling in the comforting weight of his
body relaxed against hers. For this precious time, she wanted to savor the
delicious sensations lazily curling through her.
Sated. Complete. Fulfilled. A warm after glow.
Cherished.
She’d made love with
Gently she rubbed her chin against the inky curls and
immediately felt
Several minutes passed in a pleasant haze before she
felt him shift, the comforting warmth of his face withdrawing from her neck.
She made a small sound of protest.
Raising up onto his elbows to gaze down at her,
“Don’t apologize.” Reaching up, she laid her palm
against his rough-hewn cheek. “There’s no need.”
“I meant to be gentle and considerate but instead, I
lost control.” Catching her hand, he pressed her palm to his lips. “Are you all
right, sweet lass? Did I hurt you in any way?”
“Nay. ‘Twas most wondrous,
Relief swept through him. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.
Except,” she smiled warmly, “that I love you.”
“You could never love me more than I do you.” He
kissed her gently, lingeringly.
“Is that so?”
“I’ve loved you forever, Sabra. I never knew how
incomplete my life was until you were back in it.” Gazing down at her
seriously, he whispered, “You are my whole life. No one will take you from me,
and no one will ever hurt you again.”
“Life deals some hard blows,
“Nay!”
“--but knowing you will be there to champion me gives
me courage.”
“I will kill anyone who dares to touch you,” he said
fiercely.
“I doubt anyone would be game to,” she replied dryly.
“Not with that look in your eye.”
The hardness gave way to a rueful grin. “You prick my
vanity, wench.”
“‘Tis a favorite pastime of mine, but now there’s a
difference.”
He saw the gleam in her eyes. “And what’s that?”
“I’ll always kiss you better.” Tangling her fingers in
his hair, she pulled his head down to kiss him lightly. “Better?”
“A little,” he mused.
“How about this?” The kiss was deeper, longer.
“Definite improvement.” He laughed huskily.
“I guess I’ll have to try harder. I never realized how
fragile your feelings are.”
“Saucy wench--” His words were abruptly stopped as she
captured his mouth.
Twenty
His fingers curled into the covers either side of her
as Sabra plundered his mouth with passion enough to make his loins tighten. Her
tongue swept in, tasting him, teasing, withdrawing so she could mold her lips
to his--before darting in again before he could return the kiss, catching him off-guard,
keeping him in a state of anticipation and growing frustration as he tried to
capture her in turn.
Finally releasing his lips, she smiled wickedly up
into his passion-glazed eyes. “All better now?”
“Little witch,” he breathed heavily and without another
word, seized her mouth in turn.
His kiss wasn’t teasing. It was totally carnal.
Seeking and claiming. Ravishing. Taking possession of her lips with a
barely-leashed fierceness. He was still inside her, she realized with a small,
pleasured shock. She could feel his manhood harden, lengthen and thicken.
“Oh God,” he groaned, lifting his head. “I can’t,
you’ll be too sore.”
“We’ll worry about that later.” Lightly raking her
nails down his back, she cupped the taut buttocks and squeezed firmly, hearing
him suck in his breath. Seeing his pupils dilate. “But love me now.”
By the suns, he couldn’t refuse her. Couldn’t refuse
himself. Surging forward, he felt the welcome heat grip him slickly, tightly,
and nearly spent himself immediately. Forcing himself to slow down, he gentled
his movements, trying to stay in control, giving her the careful loving he
should have given her the first time they joined.
She could feel his restraint in the tautness of his
muscles, the strain in his face. And loved him for it. Cupping the back of his
head in her hand, she pulled his face low to hers. “Don’t torture yourself,
“Sweet lass, I rode you hard the first time,” he
rasped. “I can’t do so again.”
“I ache for you, deep inside. I want to feel you
taking me hard, loving me with all your might.” Nipping the side of his throat,
she felt the shudder ripple through him. “‘Tis you who joins with me,
The words and her hot, insistent mouth pushed at him,
prodding him closer to the beckoning loss of control, the pure ecstasy of
taking her hard and fast, knowing she craved it as much as he did.
“I can’t get enough of you,” she whispered in his ear.
Bracing her feet on the mattress, she pushed her hips
up and he slid completely home. A blaze roared through his veins as she smiled
sultrily up at him, blatant sexual invitation smoldering in her eyes.
“You started this fire within me,” she purred. “And
‘tis up to you to put it out. Now.”
There was no man alive that could resist the siren’s
pull.
With a growl of pure release,
Sabra reveled in it, for her thoughts were only of her
lover. To him she strained to give everything she had, wanting him to have
pleasure, ecstasy, and love. She cradled him between her thighs, wrapped her
arms around his back, and buried her face in his neck. She felt the power in
every thrust, the bunching of massive muscles above her. Felt the power inside
her, the knowledge that only she had what this man craved, needed.
As the fiery glow threatened to consume him, fire
scorching in the almost painful throbbing of his manhood as he engulfed himself
again and again in the wet grip of her hot sheath,
Capturing her mouth, he swallowed her cries as with
one last powerful thrust, he pushed them both over the edge.
Physically they clung together but emotionally they
shattered apart, their worlds exploding around them in intense sensation,
swirling them away into euphoria neither could ever have imagined.
Both returned to reality slowly, lazily, deliciously
spent. With effort
Neither spoke. There was only a soft murmur, a tender
kiss, then silence descended as both drifted into sleep.
~ * ~
“Everyone is nearly in position.” Darcus turned away
from the window. “It’s almost time I make my move, Ridly.”
“Now?”
“I said ‘almost’, idiot. What do you think?”
Striding across to the desk, Darcus yanked the galaxy
map towards him. Picking up a dagger, he traced the planets in the middle of
the section and grinned. Almost time to move, to put all his plans into
action. Almost time to start the real control of the galaxy, to have the planet
leaders taste the fear of being in the grip of a merciless leader. Ah yes,
there would be blood shed soon. Then they’d all see who would be the true leader
of the Lawful Sector. No that it would be lawful for long. He
grinned to himself. Oh, there was no doubt in his mind that the fight would be
harsh and many lives lost, but he didn’t really care as long as he got what he
fought for.
“Get me Fredrico on the viscomm,” he ordered Ridly.
“And stop looking at the bloody floor as though it’s going to save you.”
Now to see exactly how many outlaws and pirates were
in position.
~ * ~
Holding the glass dome in his hand, the Overlord
contemplated the colors swirling within it. Colors of conflict--of hatred, of
emotions so strong they turned the depths murky. Emotions, he mused. How
unpredictable they were.
Placing the dome on the table, he leaned his chin on
his hand and thoughtfully contemplated it. What was Darcus up to right at this
moment? How close were they to the battle? When would Veknor contact him with
more news?
Time meant so much--and time was running out.
~ * ~
“
Feeling thoroughly exhausted, wonderfully so, he
grunted and buried his face deeper into the soft pillow.
“Wake up!”
With one hand he reached out and felt around, only to
have his wrist grasped.
“
“Go?”
“Before Darvk comes up and finds you!”
“Oh.”
“Now!”
“What’s the rush?” Rolling over, he blinked up at the
worried face so close to his own. “You look beautiful. Did you know your lips
are all full and lush and red from my kisses? I like that look on you.” He
reached for her with a lazy grin.
Exasperated, she avoided him, sliding back on the bed
to stand beside it. As the dark gaze grew hotter at the sight of her naked
curves, she blushed and dragged the top cover off, wrapping it around herself.
“Darvk and Tenia will be coming up the stairs any minute with the children.
Come on,
Sudden devilment made him push upright and lean back
against the headboard. “Darvk’s a very understanding man, lass.”
The dangerously handsome giant had the wickedest smile
on his face. She had to bite her lip against the impulse to grin back. “You
need to be taken in hand,
“Oooh, is that a promise?”
“The warning is--”
“Nay, I mean you taking me in hand.” His smile broke
into a sinful grin. “I’m more than willing to place... myself... into your
luscious hands, sweet lass.”
“I’ll smack you in a minute.”
“Where?” Coming up abruptly onto hands and knees, he
started to move sinuously across the bed towards her. “On my behind?”
Her heart started to bump against her ribs. He was
like a great, naked beast stalking her, his eyes intense and wicked, and
smoldering with the beginnings of barely leashed passion. This was
Moistening her lips, she stepped back. “
“Any time is the right time with you.” His hand shot
out suddenly.
She leapt back but not in time, for the strong fingers
closed around her wrist firmly and she found herself jerked forward.
Quickly coming upright onto his knees,
Eyes twinkling, he breathed, “Why, lass, it appears you
have a hold of me.”
The bedcover remained wrapped around her by some
miracle. And aye, the heat from this man’s body made her heart thunder, but
what made her quake was the sound of boots in the hall outside her door. “Damn
it,
“He won’t come in here without permission.”
“But--”
“Stay quiet and they’ll think you’re asleep.” His lips
brushed enticingly against her ear. “Keep talking and they’ll think you’re
awake and who knows,” his lips slid lower, “Tenia might come in to see you.”
She was going to kill him! His lips were creating havoc wherever they traced,
making her knees positively tremble. All the while, she was aware of footsteps
in the hall, passing her room and moving onwards. The children’s sleepy voices,
the dimming of lights.
“Sabra must be asleep.” Tenia’s voice came mutely through
the closed door. “But she’s left the light on.”
Sabra stiffened.
“I’m sure she’ll sleep through it,” Darvk answered.
“Mayhaps I should turn it off.”
With a silent groan, Sabra dropped her forehead onto
He chuckled quietly,
muffling the sound in the curve of her throat.
“Nay, it’ll just as likely wake her if you do that.”
Relieved, Sabra slumped against the big body now
shaking with suppressed laughter. Her wrists were released and strong arms
wrapped around her, gathering her close.
“Besides, there’s something else I’d like to turn on.”
“Oh?”
“Aye. You.”
“Darvk, you’re a real debaucher.”
“I know, but you like it!”
Laughter sounded, and was quickly hushed. The sound of
a bedroom door closing was heard.
After several minutes of silence, Sabra lifted her
head to glare accusingly into dancing eyes. “You imbecile!” she hissed.
“Sorry, lass.”
“You don’t look it.”
“How do I look?” The deep voice grew even more
teasing. “Hot? Lustful? Needing? Wanting?”
“How can you think about that when my cousin sleeps
across the hall?” She pushed at his chest. “You have to go.”
“Ah, sweet lass, you wound me!” Laying one hand on his
chest, he sighed mournfully. “It makes me want to howl at the moon.” Throwing
back his head, he opened his mouth.
“Make one loud noise,” she hissed, “And it’s the last
time I let you into my bedroom!”
He brought his head forward to eye her thoughtfully.
“I don’t need a bedroom to make love to you, lass.”
“You won’t get anywhere near my body--anywhere--if you
don’t get your clothes and go!”
“Ah me,” he sighed again. “‘Tis not often a Daamen is
thrown from the bed of a beautiful young lass. It tears me up inside--”
“
Chuckling, he gave her a quick kiss and released her.
“I’m on my way, sweet.”
With a strange mixture of regret and relief, she
watched him pull his pants on, stomp noiselessly into his boots, and sling his
vest over one brawny shoulder. When he raised one brow at her, his gaze
sweeping over her body, she frowned, grabbed his arm and led him over to the
door.
Opening it, she glanced out into the darkened hall and
beckoned him.
Grinning he stepped past, but before he walked
stealthily away, he gave her bottom a quick pat, caught her surprised gasp in a
swift, deep kiss, and winked. Then, feeling very satisfied, he left.
~ * ~
“Time to move!” Darcus thrust up from his chair
abruptly. “Almost everyone is in place, so there’s no need to linger.”
Ridley looked up sharply.
“Get my gear packed, we leave at once.”
“Do you want me to notify the others?”
“No. I’ll do that when I’m ready. No sense letting my
movements be known too early. Now come on, time’s a wasting!”
Time was always wasting, Ridley thought grimly. Who the hell knew what was
going through his demented master’s mind? With a sigh, he left the room.
Rocking back on his heels, Darcus grinned widely and
slapped his hands together. Victory was drawing closer by the minute. Soon now,
very soon, they wouldn’t know what had hit them. But bow down before him they
all would.
Every bloody one.
He laughed.
~ * ~
“Well, look here,” Fredrico mused. “What has that
pretty bounty hunter got on her mind now?”
His friend studied the screen over his shoulder. “Hmm.
Pretty and smart. A dangerous combination.”
“A fascinating one.” Leaning back in the chair, the
pirate rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “How much is she guessing? What has she
found?”
The galaxy map was crisscrossed with lines. Little
lights blipped in the various areas.
“You’re putting together a pattern, my pretty,” he
murmured. “Time to make Veknor aware of your suspicions.”
~ * ~
Flicking through the files, Sabra stared broodingly at
the screen. Things had been so clear-cut before but now... She hadn’t counted
on falling in love. It changed things and not necessarily for the better.
Taking a swallow of berry juice, she tried to concentrate
on the screen, unwilling to examine her feelings just yet. Not wanting to
contemplate choices.
Tuning into the galaxy security news, she continued to
flick through the files. Slowly an uneasiness filtered through her senses and
she straightened up, studying the files more closely. Could it be...?
“Good morn, lass.”
“Huh?” She glanced up at him, momentarily diverted.
“Is that all you can say after the loving we shared
last night? No ‘glad to see you’?” He bent his head lower, his lips brushing
hers tantalizingly. “No good morn kiss for me?”
A faint blush stole through her cheeks at the
remembered intimacy of the previous night, but a smile curved her lips as well,
and she pressed her lips to his. “Good morn to you,
“My feelings are still hurt. What say we slip away
somewhere private and you tend to them?” He nipped her bottom lip, not enough
to hurt but to make her jump, then laved it with his tongue. “Am I being a bad
boy? Mayhaps you need to discipline me.”
“Let me guess, somewhere private?”
“Oooh, wicked thoughts, lass!” Lifting his head, he
saw the viscomm screen. “Unless you find reading more interesting?”
Glancing at the screen, her attention was caught by
another entry and she turned back to it. “Look at this.”
“I’d rather look at you.”
“
“We don’t have a palace on Daamen.”
“Nay, I mean elsewhere. These new people near the
planet leaders.”
“We haven’t had any new people.” Catching the
seriousness in her tone, he turned his attention to the files. “Show me what
you mean.”
“Here.” She scrolled down the screen. “And here. This
planet as well. ‘Tis not usual.”
“Nay, ‘tisn’t.”
“You’re friends with some of these planets, and some
of their advisors and leaders, aren’t you?”
“Aye. Kiile from Argon, some of the Saalm advisors and
others.”
Chewing her bottom lip, she eyed the screen. Noting
her hand seeking restlessly across the desk,
Leaning forward, Sabra touched the screen, bringing
the galaxy map up to show both the Lawful and Outlaw Sectors. “The key is here
somewhere.”
“That’s a lot of space, lass.” Resting his forearms on
the back of the chair,
“What are you two up to?” Darvk asked from the
doorway.
“Uh-oh.” Sabra turned to peer past
“None needed. But I gather this is why Davan wants to
see you?” Darvk strode up to peer at the screen over her other shoulder. “What
mischief are you brewing, lass?”
“Davan? The Peacekeeper?”
“One and the same. He asked if you’d go and see him at
the
Sabra bounded out of the chair. “He’s onto something!”
“Onto what?” Puzzled, Darvk looked at
“Afraid so.” He stood up. “We’ll explain later.”
“That’d be appreciated.”
“Come on,
Darvk crossed to the window to watch them hurry down
the path. His friend had his head bent towards his shorter companion as he
listened with obvious interest to what she was saying. His hand was resting
lightly at her waist, and she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, her own body was
unconsciously angled towards his.
The dark-haired trader grinned. Apparently his good
friend was making headway with his cousin. Turning back to the desk, he strode
around it to study the screen.
~ * ~
“What’d you find?”
Davan merely glanced up as Sabra came through the
door. “Going by the electrical readings coming from your cousin’s house, I’d
say you’ve stumbled onto something.”
Coming around the desk, she looked at the viscomm
screen. “You tapped into my research, peacekeeper. I thought you could at least
do your own.”
One brow arched. “I’m not above admitting you’ve got
intelligence--for a bounty hunter.”
“Ha, ha. You didn’t get me here to show me what I
already know.”
“True.” Davan nodded at
“Enough to see that there’s a connection somewhere,
which Sabra has suspected.”
“Mmm. Which is about as far as I’ve got.”
“Great,” Sabra said disgustedly.
A small smile hovered around the big blonde’s mouth.
“And a little more.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Have a look at this and tell me what you think.”
She came to stand behind him,
“Sabra’s already done that.”
The pride in
“Aye, she has. But what about this, hunter?” Davan
touched the screen again.
Yellow lines linked across the planets--following the
same pattern as the green lines.
“What are they?” She leaned forward.
“These are the new people who’ve appeared in the last
few weeks.”
“You mean palace guard leaders and such?”
“Aye. I picked up on your research, noticed your
interest in the security files, and on a whim ran this scan. What do you think?
Interesting, isn’t it?”
“You’re a bloody marvel--for a peacekeeper.” Reaching
out, she traced the lines. “Look, Cam. The same tracings. Outlaws appearing,
outlaws killed, and new people appearing in positions of power.”
“And near power,” Cam said quietly. “But not
everywhere, I’m relieved to see.”
“Correct.” Davan nodded. “Argon, Saalm, and many
others have not taken on anyone new.”
“What about Daamen?” Sabra queried, reaching for the
lone apple on the desk.
“Our leaders were approached but declined. No outsider
is ever allowed near positions of power.” Brows raised, Davan watched as she
bit into the apple.
Cam grinned.
“Transfer this to the big screen,” Sabra commanded,
already walking over to the screen that covered the entire opposite wall.
“Let’s get a clearer view of this.”
Within seconds the galaxy map was spread out before
them, the lines clear and bright.
They studied it quietly, Sabra chewing thoughtfully
while Davan stood beside her, frowning.
Leaning back against the desk, Cam could almost hear
Sabra’s mind ticking. He observed as she paced before the big map, tracing the
length of it with one finger. Stopping now and again to backtrack, tilting up
her head to sweep her gaze across the whole map, looking it up and down
intently. She fascinated him. Not just her body and face, but her intelligence.
In fact, everything. It’d be a loss to the law if she retired.
The sudden thought was sobering, making him see her in
yet another light. Hunter, thinker, solver of puzzles. Not afraid of what
people thought of her. Good at what she did. Loving it. He could see it in the
light in her eyes, and the quickness to her steps. The utter absorption in the
mystery.
“Damn.”
Startled, the two men looked at her.
“Well, damn it all to hell and back.”
“What’s wrong?” Davan demanded.
“I don’t believe it.” Stepping forward, she picked up
the thin tracer tool and approached the map.
“What are you doing?”
“Here’s a new pattern, peacekeeper. See what you think
of this.”
Puzzled, they watched as she traced the lines. They
knew the lines were there, so what was the point? Then they realized that she
was marking another path which linked the planets.
Cam straightened and walked across to stand beside
Davan, who was watching closely. “A perfect circle,” Davan said grimly.
“It gets better,” she said. “What’s in the middle of
the circle?”
“The Intergalactic Peace Ship.”
“And look at this.” She made a multitude of lines all
leading to one area, and circled it with a sweep of the tracer.
“Shit,” Davan swore, and turned to cross rapidly to
the viscomm.
Twenty
Disembarking in the docking bay of the Intergalactic
Peace Ship, Sabra found herself immediately facing a troop of IPS soldiers.
“How pleasant,” she remarked, “an escort.”
“Lass,”
“And armed. How thoughtful.”
“But I do.” She batted her lashes at the sergeant. “We
bounty hunters always play with the big boys.”
His face inscrutable, the soldier stood to one side
and motioned with a gloved hand. “If you please.”
“What if I don’t?” Sabra whispered to
A hard palm was laid gently on her backside.
“Oh, I see. Well, I just might like that.”
“Let’s go.” Davan brushed past them. “Grezel is
meeting us in the Council chambers.”
“At last.” Sabra started after him. “What kept you so
long?”
“I was right behind you.”
“Of course you were. You know, they do have toilets on
this ship.”
The big blonde took no notice, but she grinned anyway.
Shaking his head,
Growing serious once more, Sabra studied the immense
corridors as they walked past or through them. Long and winding in some areas,
short and straight in others. On either side were doors leading further into
the gigantic ship.
“It’s like a settlement in the air,” she said to
“Aye. Think about it, this ship has to hold up to four
thousand people sometimes.”
“Bad, very bad. It means it’ll be easier to infiltrate
areas.”
“Not so easy to do.”
“Hmm.”
The closer they got to the Council chambers, the
heavier the crowds. Representatives from all planets coming under the
Intergalactic Peace Ship laws strode the halls.
“Wait.” Halting, Sabra caught
“Where?” He scanned the crowd.
“That leader over there. Squat, red beard, bad skin.”
“That’s his skin’s normal texture.”
“Whatever. His advisor. Has he been with him awhile?”
“Aye.”
“Oh.” Frowning, her gaze slid to the man behind the
advisor. Immediately her gaze sharpened as the man slid deeper into the crowd.
“What about that protector of his?”
“Never seen him before. But then, these leaders have
so many.”
“I know him. Davan, we need to talk to him.”
“Where?”
“There.” She inclined her head.
Davan spoke quietly to the sergeant, who nodded and
inclined his head to two of his soldiers. They disappeared into the crowd.
“The Council chambers.” The sergeant opened one of two
towering doors. “Place your hand on the scanners, then you may go in.”
“Impressive,” Sabra remarked.
“Have you ever been here before, lass?”
“Nay, and I’m in no hurry to come back, either.”
“So, not impressed enough.”
She shared a brief grin with him before preceding him
through the doors.
Once inside, she found herself in a huge room. In the
center stood a tall man with harsh features, his black robes brushing the
floor. A long curving table stood in the center of the room with eighteen
chairs. Behind this table and raised higher was another long curving table with
eighteen chairs and above that, a third. These usually seated three tiers of
leaders from different planets, she knew, but this day only the front table was
filled.
One of the members stood up and came to greet them.
Tall, heavily muscled, and with roguish good looks, gray peppered his rich
brown hair.
“Grezel.”
“
“Not with good news.”
“So it would appear. ‘Tis fortunate that a council
meeting was being prepared, at least there are some here to listen to your
urgent summons immediately.” Grezel glanced at
The black cloak swept across the floor as Meekta took
his seat in the middle of the table. “You sent some disturbing news, Sabra. We
are waiting to hear your explanation.”
“Where’s your galaxy map?”
“Perhaps it would be better if you explained first.”
“I already sent one as soon as we realized what was
happening.”
“True, but please refresh us.”
Irritation pricked at her when she saw that they were
indeed waiting for her.
“It’s to ensure that your report matches what you tell
us face to face,” a golden-eyed Morican member stated softly.
“Fine, but ‘tis short and to the point, as I’ve no
time to waste.” Folding her arms, she continued. “There have been an unusually
large number of outlaws seen in the Lawful Sector. Those caught were killed in unusual
circumstances. I myself saw a pirate on Comll, one with a huge price on his
head. And that’s the thing. Some of these outlaws shouldn’t be here. Petty
ones, you’ll get them, but these are the ones with huge bounties on their
heads.”
“You recognize them all?” One leader gave her a
doubtful look.
“I’m a bounty hunter.”
“So it’s said.”
“And as such, she has a wide knowledge,”
The peacekeeper nodded. “‘Twas Sabra that discovered
something was going on.”
“Hmm.”
The planet leader was an idiot. Sabra dismissed him with one contemptuous shrug and
centered her attention on Meekta, who was sitting silently and studying her.
“Take into account the alarming amount of strangers being hired in security
areas and it’s adding up to something nasty.”
Meekta regarded her steadily. “I haven’t heard of an
alarming number. How many are we talking about? Five or six in every palace or
fortress?”
“Subtler. Many planet leaders now have at least one
new member on their security team.”
Raising one brow, Meekta glanced at the members, his
gaze falling almost instantly on the Morican. “Karion?”
“My chief-of-security did mention someone applying but
it was refused,” she answered. “We don’t hire outsiders.”
“Same here,” Grezel said.
“Anyone else?”
“Security matters are dealt with by my advisors,”
another leader said.
Nods went around the other members.
“Then it might be a good idea to get a report now of
who has a new member,” Davan suggested, “for security reasons.”
Meekta nodded to the IPS sergeant, who touched a small
screen near the wall and sent the command off.
“I agree that this is rather disturbing. Now what else
do you wish to show us?”
The bloody man made it sound as if he was granting her
a favor! Her gaze narrowed. “As I
asked for the first time, if you would be so kind as to show the galaxy
map, I’ll try to enlighten you.”
Twenty-one
Even though the situation was serious,
Meekta’s own eyes narrowed as he took the measure of
the woman striding across to the large screen that appeared, but he refrained
from saying anything. Intuition, a keen judge of character, and the ability to
make decisions wisely had made him leader of the Intergalactic Peace Council.
No, he’d wait to see what this brash bounty hunter had to say. Besides, there
was a no-nonsense attitude about her that he admired.
Becoming impatient with having to explain once more,
Sabra made short work of tracing the lines, her movements sharp and concise.
“The lines linking the planets are consistent with reports we’ve looked up.
Outlaws have been seen on these planets, killed mysteriously, and strangers
have been hired in positions near power.”
“A complete circle, almost,” Karion murmured. “What of
those few planets not linked? Saalm and Daamen and those others?”
“They’ve not hired strangers.” Sabra tapped the tracer
on the center of the map. “The Intergalactic Peace Ship is smack in the middle
of this circle, leaders. Someone is setting you all up for a confrontation.”
“Impossible!” one leader gaped.
“No one would dare!” another growled.
“Never has an attack been launched at this ship!”
Sabra raised one brow at the babble of voices, her
expression unruffled. “They have now.”
“What makesss you think thisss pattern isss aimed at
usss?” a woman with slanting eyes opened her tiny mouth.
“Combine it with unusual activity in the Outlaw
Sector, and it makes perfect sense.”
“You’ve been recuperating on Daamen, from all
reports,” Meekta said. “How would you know about this?”
“I’m still a hunter and I stay in touch with my pack.
But why don’t we hear direct from them?”
“You can raise them?”
A slow smile spread across Sabra’s face. “One click of
this is all it takes.”
Dipping into her pocket, she brought out a small, thin
box and pressed the button. Immediately the galaxy map disappeared form the
screen and in its place flared the universally known symbol of the bounty
hunter.
Meekta’s sharp gaze switched from the screen to Sabra.
“How is it that you’re able to transfer messages to our screen? It is not a
legal move, I’m sure.”
“Oh, ‘tis legal,” she assured Meekta solemnly. “‘Tis
just technology that is not used often.”
Before he could argue, Cormac’s face appeared. “You
need me, Sabra?”
“The IPS Council needs to know what happenings are
occurring in the Outlaw Sector.”
Hard eyes swept the room, no sign of respect or any
other emotion in their cold depths. “There is no fighting amongst the outlaws.
On the edge of the Sector, all is quiet. No fights, no murders, no nothing.”
“That is unusual?” Karion asked. “It has not escaped
our notice that bounty hunters have made their appearance felt rather harshly
in the Outlaw Sector.”
He ignored her statement. “It is very unusual,
regardless of the circumstances. No, they seem to be waiting for something--or
someone.”
“For what?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here now, Council Member.”
Murmuring broke out in the room.
Meekta frowned, leaning forward onto his elbows. “Have
you also noticed the influx of outlaws in the Lawful Sector?”
“Be kind of hard to miss, seeing as several packs I
know of are currently hunting near the center of the Lawful Sector. That’s not
normally our territory.”
“There seems to be very little normal about this whole
situation.”
“You can’t possibly believe that these--these
hunters,” the first leader spoke again, nearly spitting the word out with
disgust, “are telling the truth?”
Immediately Sabra strode across to the table, slamming
her hands upon the shiny surface to lean forward and snarl into the startled
leader’s face. “Don’t speak like that of bounty hunters. If we didn’t search
the unsavory areas for those who kill, rape and torture the likes of you and
your family, where would you be?”
“How dare you--”
“Shove your indignation up your arse, leader. And if
outlaws roamed freely, that’s exactly where your head would be!” Stepping back,
she glared at the red-faced man. “Come to think of it, it’d be an improvement.”
The lass was pushing the limits. Seeing several IPS
soldiers heading towards her,
Seeing the warning burning in his eyes, Grezel raised
his hand. “Enough, all of you! Soldiers, return to your post. Harver, this is a
Council summoning, not a slinging match. Sabra has come with disturbing news,
one that threatens us all. If we cannot work together on discovering this
threat, then we could very well rue the day. Forever.”
Glowering, Harver subsided.
Satisfied, Sabra stepped back--straight into a hard
body.
Steadying her,
“He’s an incompetent bast--”
“Cease this. Now Grezel has their attention focused
back on the problem, take advantage of it.”
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly,
straightened her shoulders, and turned back to the head of the Council. “That’s
the whole of it, Meekta. Now what?”
“Now we leaders will meet --”
“Oh, that’ll get it done.”
“I don’t care for your attitude, hunter.”
“That goes both ways, believe me.”
The wench was digging herself in deep with her sharp
replies. Catching her arm,
“Contact will be established within minutes with the
rest of the planet leaders. We should soon have reports back regarding new
people hired in positions of security. From there, we will consult with the
Intergalactic Peace Ship Security Officers.”
Davan stepped forward. “Sabra already pointed out a
suspect Pekya guard and he is being hunted at this moment by your IPS soldiers.
Mayhaps he has been found and can be questioned.”
Meekta’s eyes sharpened. “A suspect on this ship?” His
gaze switched to Sabra. “You recognized him?”
A shifting amongst the Council members betrayed their
sudden uneasiness.
“He’s familiar. Once I talk to him, we’ll know who he
is.”
“I see. Well then, we’ll get this process moving.
You’ll be notified when your presence is required again.”
The leaders talked amongst themselves, Meekta
gesturing to the impassive sergeant. Grezel motioned to Davan, who moved up to
the table and commenced talking to his planet leader.
“Are we supposed to bow on our way out or something?”
“Sarcasm, lass--”
“
“Nothing.”
“You’ll tune in later?”
At the wistful tone in her voice, a small smile
briefly softened the hard features. “Now that we’re out of the Sentarin Belt,
it’s a clear line. I’ll talk to you later on, after I contact Falyon and
Creed.”
The screen went black.
“Are you all right, lass?”
Looking up into
“There’s not much they can do until they have more
information.” He grinned at the mutinous expression on her face. “Come on,
lass. You know Meekta’s right.”
“Damn it--”
Laughing, he reached out to gently tug on the loose
lock of blonde hair that brushed her cheek. “I think I’ll take you for a walk
while we’re waiting, lass.”
“That’s not a bad idea. Mayhaps they’ve found the
mystery man.”
“They’ll notify us, Sabra.”
“They haven’t so far, so obviously he’s still on the
loose.”
She started for the door but it opened to emit an IPS
soldier. His face was expressionless but hunter’s instinct made her stay where
she was, waiting.
He strode across to the sergeant and spoke quietly.
The sergeant nodded and turned to the Council members. Immediately silence
descended as Meekta raised his hand.
“You have news?” Meekta asked.
“The Pekya advisor’s protector left the ship on a
shuttle.”
“Did you send a pursuit ship?”
“The shuttle exploded within minutes of leaving.”
The Council members were shocked.
“Shit,”
Meekta’s gaze shot across the room to meet Sabra’s.
“What’s your verdict on this?”
“Outlaws are already on this ship.”
“Impossible!” A member shook his head.
“Unfortunately,” Karion said tightly, “it’s obviously
more than possible.”
“Karion speaks true.”
It was the first time Sabra had heard
But then, hadn’t he always? He’d come here and stood
beside her the whole time. As he’d done since they were children.
Standing, Meekta swept his eyes over the Council
members, then leveled his gaze on the security guard and sergeant. “Find every
new employee upon this ship, regardless of who they work for and what planet,
and take them into custody. Send word to the peacekeepers on every planet to
take into custody every new guard employed in every palace and fortress.
Forewarn the planet leaders not here so that they know.”
The men left without a word.
“As for we planet leaders, send word to your planets
to be on guard. Keep close vigilance on the skies for intruders. Rally your
planet troops to search the settlements for anyone alien to your planet and
have them also taken into custody. Until we get to the bottom of this, strict
security law will apply to every planet under the Intergalactic Peace Council.
Once you have done this, remain in your individual cabins under close guard
with your personal guards only. Contact will be maintained through the
viscomm.”
“Do you think this is really necessary?” one member
queried.
“We can’t risk being together. If we are being
infiltrated, once it becomes known that we’re onto them, our lives may be in
danger. It’ll be harder to reach us separately.”
“He’s right.” Sabra folded her arms. “‘Tis easier to
kill a flock.”
Within minutes the chamber was empty of all except
Davan, Grezel, the hulking Daamen guards, Sabra,
Meekta’s intense gaze settled on Sabra. “Your
suspicions prove correct, hunter.”
“This isn’t over yet,” she returned. “My instincts
tell me ‘tis just the beginning.”
“Hmm.” His attention switched to Grezel. “I will be in
touch.”
Grezel nodded and watched the black-robed man sweep
from the room surrounded by his guards, their cloaks billowing around booted
feet.
“At last,” Sabra muttered.
“I can’t stand this waiting.” She started to move off.
“Where are you going?”
“To search the ship.”
“Oh, nay, you’re not!” He strode after her rapidly.
Without a word needing to be said, two of the Daamen
guards blocked the doorway.
“Move it,” she said.
“Sorry, lass,” the big redhead replied.
“I’m not the outlaw, Daamen. Now let me pass.”
He eyed her calmly.
Anger started to burn. Turning, she beheld
“You’re not going anywhere,” he returned.
“What?”
“Sabra, we’ve been ordered to our cabins--”
“You might have been but I intend to search this
ship.”
“Nay, ‘tis too dangerous.”
“Oh for... I’m a bounty hunter,
“The soldiers will take no notice of that, Sabra.
Their orders come from the IPS Council. Everyone is to be confined to their
cabins under safe guard until given the all-clear. That includes you.”
“No one gives me orders, least of all you!”
He came up close but she stood her ground. Gazing down
into her furious face, he said firmly, “I won’t risk you being hurt. Those soldiers
will toss you into a holding cell if you so much as stick that pretty little
nose into the corridor.”
“I’ve been in worse situations and lived to tell the
tale, and those soldiers will be in for a nasty surprise if they touch me.
Besides which,” her eyes narrowed, “you don’t own me and have no right to order
me around.”
Muscles bunched as he folded his arms across his
chest. Gone was the tender, playful lover and in his place stood a determined
man. Unmoving and protective. Extremely protective.
A Daamen male with his wench. She recognized the signs
and unwittingly her mouth went dry.
Until now, he’d not shown any indication of anything
other than that of a man courting a lass, affable and easygoing. Supportive.
But this side was one she’d seldom seen--in regards to herself, anyway. The
square jaw was set, eyes steady. His bearing was almost one of... dominance.
When he didn’t reply, she tossed her head and turned
back to the impassive guards. “Get out of my way.”
They didn’t move, simply gazed down at her.
“Grezel, order them to move.”
“Nay.”
Incensed, she spun around once more to glare past
The reply was mild. “Your leader.”
“I have no leader!”
“You are a Daamen and come under the Daamen law.”
“I’m a bounty hunter, not--”
“Makes no difference. You bear the Daamen mark, you
are a Daamen, and at this moment come under our law. That, wench, will never
change, no matter where you are or what you do. Now you will return with us to
our cabins and remain under safe guard as ordered by the IPS Council.”
Rage and indignation boiled up inside her. “You can’t
make me, Grezel. No one can. I’ll obey no man, no one!”
“For your safety, I will make you. As leader of our
planet, it would be negligent of me.” Grezel nodded to the guards behind her
and immediately big hands wrapped around her upper arms. “Take her to our
cabins.”
“Let go!” She started to struggle.
“Unhand her,”
Looking up, Sabra saw him eyeing the guards warningly,
his big hands fisted.
“
“Tell your guards to take their hands off her.” Dark
eyes remained fixed on the guards.
They returned his look calmly but she could feel their
tension. Daamens they all were, but these guards obeyed Grezel only. Behind
Totally puzzled, she stared up at him.
“She won’t be harmed,
The dark-haired trader moved one threatening step
closer and Sabra felt the guards’ hands tighten in preparation to pull her
back.
“
Motioning the guards nearing from behind to wait,
Grezel stepped in front of the angry trader. “Mayhaps you should tell me what
this is about.”
“Sabra’s my lass, Grezel. No one is to touch her, do
you understand?”
“Ah.” Now he understood. One brow arched in fleeting
amusement and he moved aside. “Release the little Daamen hunter, guards.”
No sooner did they obey than Sabra found her wrist
grasped and she was pulled forward and tucked into
A brief twinkle lit Grezel’s eyes and he exchanged a
wink with one of his guards. “Now are we ready?”
“Aye.”
Bewildered by the rapid change of events and fearing
any threat to
Entering the Daamen chambers, Grezel indicated a small
hall with doors on either side. “The cabin at the end is empty. Make yourselves
at home until we hear further news.”
With a grim nod,
“What the hell was all that about?” Sabra demanded. “I
don’t understand you,
There was no answer. Instead, he turned her to face
him and held out her arms, his gaze running across her upper arms. Gently he
ran his fingers around the softness.
“What are you doing?” She pulled back.
“Did they hurt you?”
“What?”
“They had no right to grab you.” Jaw tight, he drew a
deep, calming breath.
“No right? Grezel ordered them to, that’s why. Hell,
“Because only I have the right to touch you.” With a
sudden movement, he wrapped a powerful arm around her waist and pulled her
against his chest. “No one but me.”
The possessiveness stamped on the handsome face made
her nervous... and something else. There was a ruthlessness about him that
added to his dangerous appeal. His demeanor was as unyielding as the strength
in the arms holding her firmly. This was the untamed side of him. His actions
had been that of claiming her, openly challenging any other who dared touch
what he considered his. He’d been ready to fight to the death for her.
In that instance, Sabra knew without a doubt that
In that instance,
He watched the awareness dawn in the cobalt eyes,
waited for it to fully strike home, and still he watched as her eyes widened,
the soft lips parting slightly, the sudden tremble that shivered through her at
the knowledge.
He held her gaze captive, slowly lowering his head
until his lips hovered above that soft mouth. Then with a whispered, “You’re
mine,” he took her mouth. Captured her with lips and arms, crushing her close
as he plundered her mouth, demanding entrance, sweeping in to stake his claim,
leaving his essence branded inside her even as he took her flavor into himself.
When he finally released her mouth, he pressed his
face into the curve of her neck, lips and breath hot against her skin. “I’ll
kill anyone who ever dares to hurt you. One finger laid on you, Sabra, and
their lives will be forfeit.”
His passion scared her. “
“Nay. You know, Sabra. The depths of my love for you
are fathomless and can only get deeper.” Firm lips pressed hotly to the pulse
fluttering wildly in the slim throat. “I won’t lose you again. Ever.”
The convictions in his words both alarmed and thrilled
her. His protectiveness made her feel cherished. Loved as no one had ever loved
her before in her life. A whirlwind of emotions tumbled through her.
“I make no excuses for whatever I need to do to keep
you safe.” Lifting his head, he cupped her cheeks in calloused palms. “I’d die
for you, Sabra. I love you that much.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Don’t say that,
“‘Tis the truth. I would never lie to you, Sabra.
Don’t ask me to now.”
“It scares me.”
“I scare you?”
“Nay. The thought that...”
“What?”
“God,
He caught it with his thumb, speaking with quiet
conviction. “Because we were meant to be together.”
“But when I leave--”
“You won’t be leaving me.”
“You’d keep me prisoner?”
“Nay. Never. Where you go, I go.”
The proclamation seared
through her. Go with her? “You--you can’t! ‘Tis too dangerous,
“I won’t leave you.”
“You’re a trader,
“I’d never survive without you.” The conviction in his
voice, in his eyes, in the words, pierced her to her very soul. “I love you
that much.”
“I--I don’t know what to say. I...”
His smile was one of tenderness tinged with a touch of
sadness. “You don’t have to say anything, lass.”
Releasing her, he crossed the cabin to sit sideways on
the window seat by the large porthole, gazing out into the infinite space, blackness
pricked by starlight. Placing one booted foot on the cushion, he leaned
forward, resting his arm on his bent knee.
He loved her that much. Enough to give up the trading
life he enjoyed, the family he loved, his home world and friends. Enough to
live dangerously with her, to live with grim-faced men with hard hearts that he
could never hope to understand. Whom she knew instinctively would never
befriend him, for they would never understand him in turn. How could he
possibly stomach the hangings, watching her hunt and kill? It wasn’t in him.
But he loved her enough to do it. He loved her that much.
Had she loved anyone enough to do that? Did she love
him enough to give up her life? Her friends? To return to Daamen and live as
his wife, waiting for him to return from his trading trips?
But he would return. That was the difference. In her
life, she could be killed. He could be. Would be, for she knew without a doubt
that he wouldn’t allow her to go on a hunt without him. Nay, he’d come, too.
And be killed. Protecting her.
The thought of life without him, of his being killed
made her heart ache and throat burn. Slowly she moved across the floor,
stopping close behind him. “Why didn’t you say this before?”
“I didn’t know before.” He didn’t turn his head to look
at her.
“Why now?”
“I didn’t know until the outlaws were actually here.
Until the guards laid their hands on you.”
Silence descended once more and he continued to gaze
out the porthole.
Standing behind him, Sabra felt his determination--and
his sadness. The longing to comfort him swept through her and bending down, she
looped her furthest arm around his shoulder while her nearest hand reached
around to rub soothingly along the hard swell of muscles, bare between the open
vest he wore. Resting her chin on his broad shoulder, she waited silently.
One large hand reached up to cover her smaller one,
squeezing it gently before he brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss
into her palm.
“I never meant to hurt you,
“You never hurt me, lass. The only way you could do so
would be if...”
“If what?”
He turned his head, looking directly at her, and her
breath caught at the brilliance of tears reflected unashamedly in their depths.
“I love you, Sabra. Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me.”
Twenty-two
The soft plea wrung her heart as nothing else could
ever have done. This man who feared no one and nothing, this man full of
laughter and passion, was literally brought to his knees by his love for her.
Not a possessive, clinging love, but protective and wholesome, fully given with
every fiber of his noble being. In that instance she knew that only she held
the power to destroy him. If she turned away and left him, he would never be the
same man. It was doubtful he’d even survive it. His love for her was that deep,
that true. That strong.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she whispered
brokenly.
“That should be my question but ‘tis one I don’t ask.”
He kissed her so tenderly it touched her to her soul. “I just thank God every
hour for you.”
The tears were still in his eyes and the need to hold
him close was more than she could bear. Slipping onto the window seat behind
him, she bent her furthest leg up alongside his and sitting back against the
wall, gave him a gentle tug.
“Am I too heavy for you, lass?”
“Nay. You’re just right.”
Resting her cheek against the glossy black curls, she
closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Immediately his unique, masculine scent
filled her senses and the warmth of his body seeped into hers. Tunneling her
hand into the thick curls, she massaged his scalp and smiled as he relaxed
fully against her.
His heavy weight was more than welcome.
Peace stole over her. For the first time she could
remember, she felt right. And it was because of the man in her arms, the man
who rested trustingly against her, accepting her administrations and comfort
without protest, who showed his feelings without shame. The man who would stand
beside her against everyone and anything.
“
“Aye?”
“I love you.”
His hand squeezed hers gently.
“I’ll never leave you.”
The man she couldn’t live without.
Tilting his head back,
Instinctively she knew what he wanted. She wanted.
They both needed. Dipping her head, she placed her lips against his.
The kiss wasn’t hard, nor urgent. Slow and tender,
conveying the love they both felt but couldn’t put into words.
When she lifted her lips, she smiled back at him, then
straightened to rest her cheek once more atop his head. This time she encircled
both arms around him, cradling him close.
Closing his eyes,
~ * ~
“The time is now.”
“At last. You have the coordinates?”
Veknor nodded.
“Fix onto it and ready the power.”
“It is being done as we speak. Fredrico has it in
hand.”
“Good. Very good.” Pupils dilated and narrowed rapidly
in anticipation. “It will be a most pleasant surprise for our friends, won’t
it?”
“If you say so,” Veknor replied. “Though I rather
doubt it.”
A genuine laugh of amusement came from the narrow
mouth. “Your humor needs a little lightening. I promise, you will enjoy what is
to come.”
Veknor doubted that, too. Well, not completely, parts
of it would make him practically leap for joy.
“So, the hunter is onto something, hmm?” The lipless
mouth pursed. “She is very intelligent. No one else picked up on it.”
“Except her pack.”
“Cormac. An interesting addition to this little mix. I
think we should include him in our plans.”
“Our plans?” Veknor repeated wryly.
A hissing laugh sounded. “My original plans have changed
a little as these interesting specimens have come along to swirl the waters of
intrigue. I wouldn’t disappoint them, you know.”
Veknor wasn’t all that certain he did know, at least
not entirely.
“Don’t fret, my friend. All will be revealed. Now, put
the final part of the puzzle into action and let’s finalize this.”
The screen went blank and the pirate pressed the
contact, tuning him into his friend’s viscomm on the secret channel.
Fredrico’s face appeared, a cheerful grin flashing
brightly. “What ho, Veknor! News? Further orders?”
“The Overlord wants this finalized. Infiltrate the
information onto every peacekeeper’s and security guard’s data bank.”
“I see. The betrayal begins, then.”
“Betrayal? Depends which side you’re on. Darcus
doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”
Fredrico’s face darkened. “Oh, he does. He revels in
it.”
“Then revenge is coming now.”
“For more than one, I’d wager.”
“What do you know that I don’t?”
“Know--nothing. Suspect--a bit. Keep my mouth
shut--always.”
Veknor laughed. He’d always had a great respect for
his wily friend’s mind.
“All right, I’ll see you later. I want this finished
quickly.” Fredrico’s face disappeared and the screen went black.
Leaning back in the chair, the ebony pirate rubbed his
jaw. So, the pieces were all in place. Only one last piece and the puzzle would
be complete.
~ * ~
A knocking on the door made
Davan walked in, his face serious. “Something is
definitely going on.”
“What is it?” Sabra asked.
“Information on every outlaw and pirate’s position in
the Lawful Sector has appeared on the lawful data banks. At this very moment,
they’re being captured by peacekeepers and soldiers and being incarcerated--and
let me tell you, they’re shocked.”
“Is that so?” Sabra moved forward, brow creased.
“Where did the information come from?”
“We don’t know. Illegal channels, that’s for sure.”
“Illegal?”
“Or pirates betraying outlaws?” Sabra pondered. “But
then, they seemed to be working together.”
“Which you said was very unusual.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“You’ll be pleased with this bit of news,” Davan
predicted. “We even have the information on outlaws present on this ship.”
“Is that so?”
“They’ve been rounded up already. It was almost
ridiculously easy to take them.”
“Nay. But one question remains. What of their leader?”
“That we don’t know,” Davan replied. “But by
questioning the prisoners, we’ll get answers.”
Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “By next year, if we’re
lucky. You peacekeepers have no idea how to question outlaws. I wager I’ll have
an answer within the hour.”
He grinned for the first time since coming to the
Intergalactic Peace Ship. “Little hunter, you can have your turn if we fail,
providing the Council gives their approval.”
She made a contemptuous sound.
“Be gracious, lass,”
“The Council meets in an hour to discuss the
findings,” Davan said. “I’m going--”
“So am I,” Sabra put in quickly.
“I’m not surprised.” Amusement tinged his words. “I’ll
send for you when they’re ready.”
The door closed behind him and Sabra turned to
“Why? The outlaws are being taken.”
“‘Tis the betrayal that troubles me.” Walking across
to the table, she picked up an apricot. “That’s never a good sign.”
“Oh?” He followed her to perch on the edge of the
table, ignoring the faint groan it gave under his weight. “Yet it has saved the
Lawful Sector, it would seem.”
“Exactly!” She pounced on his words with relish,
pointing the apricot at him. “It seems! Nothing is as it seems,
“You mean apart from you?” he commented drily.
“Huh?”
“Infiltrating data banks illegally. That sort of
thing.”
“Never mind that. Nay, someone out there knows more
than we do. And, I’ve no doubt, ever will. But whoever it is, what do they
stand to gain by this? What power will they receive?”
“Why does it necessarily mean power gained?” he asked
mildly. “Obviously, if they’re already this powerful, there may be another
reason altogether. Such as revenge.”
She stared at him for several seconds then smiled
slowly. Crossing the small distance separating them, she leaned forward and
kissed him quickly on the mouth.
“What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.” His arm
slid around her waist.
“You’re brilliant,
“Mmm?” He eyed the apricot as it waved under his nose.
Taking an enthusiastic bite from it, she announced,
“Who this person seeking revenge is.”
“Doesn’t that simply take us back full circle? We
still don’t know.”
“But we’ve narrowed down the reasons.”
“I see. But what about suspects? There’s a whole
universe out there, lass.”
“You forget we have a hell of a lot of prisoners. That
will narrow things down even more.” Triumphantly, she took another bite of the
apricot. “A whole lot of prisoners, a whole lot of information.”
“Doesn’t mean they’ll know the betrayer.”
“But it’ll bring us closer. And every step closer is
one more towards solving this.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her optimism. The
challenge of the mystery fairly made her glow with the desire to start piecing
it together.
“You thrive on this, lass.”
“The hunt is always thrilling.” She twirled a glossy
curl around her finger. “The mystery, the pieces, gathering the information and
putting it all together. I love doing it.”
“Have you ever thought of working for the
peacekeepers?” A voice asked from behind them. “Or us?”
Glancing across the room, they saw the security chief
and IPS sergeant standing near the door.
“I’m Uleah. Your mind would be an asset to us,” the
security chief continued.
“I’m sure,” she replied dryly. “Your Council wouldn’t
approve my methods.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“I bet I would be, too. Have you caught the outlaws?”
“All incarcerated in the cells.”
“Separately, I hope.”
“Of course. This way they’ll all be wondering if the others
are betraying them--”
“--thereby thinking of doing it themselves to save
their own hides,” Sabra finished.
“Exactly.”
“I like the way you think.” She grinned.
He inclined his head, humor flashing briefly in his
watchful eyes.
“However, ‘tis not going to be simple. These outlaws
have been entrusted with missions that are highly risky, so their resistance is
going to be hard to break. Can I see them?”
“Davan thought it might be an idea, seeing as how your
knowledge on these vermin is extensive. If you’d care to follow us, we’ll show
you the way.”
“No need. I’ll follow the screams.”
“Screams aren’t allowed until the guests leave.”
“I thought they were the guests.”
Sabra and the security chief laughed.
“Private joke,” the sergeant informed
“Which you soldiers lack,” Uleah returned. “Come on,
hunter. Let’s have a look at these outlaws.”
The halls were quiet, almost eerily so. A squad of
eight IPS soldiers accompanied them to the entrance of the cells.
The corridor was wider than he’d expected and the
cells consisted of bars only, no solid walls. Unlike the peacekeeper buildings,
the cells were ranged down the middle of the corridor, so that the IPS soldiers
could walk down either side of the cells.
“I like it,” Sabra approved.
“It figures you would,”
“Clear view all the way around. You could interrogate
the prisoner from both sides. One talk, the other watch or even firing
questions from both sides. Making him or her try to split their attention. It
can help in throwing their concentration off.”
“Have you done it before?”
“Sure. You win some, you lose some. Either way,
they’ve all hung.”
“Pirates,” he stated softly.
“Every pirate.”
“And outlaws.”
“Every one we’ve caught.”
“So why question them if you’re going to hang them
anyway?”
“Information. Offer them an incentive, get what you
want, then show them the rope.” Glancing up, she caught his grimace. “They are
merciless killers,
“I know. God knows, you do. I’m not judging.”
She smiled at him and he tugged gently on her ponytail
in return.
“Be assured,
He guessed he’d find that out himself when he
accompanied her on these hunting trips. The thought didn’t sit well but he
shoved it to the back of his mind. His decision was made. He’d not force her to
stay and he certainly wouldn’t let her go. Her harsh world would soon be his,
and he’d better get used to it.
The cells holding the prisoners were in a different
corridor.
The sergeant noticed Sabra studying the solid walls,
and the doors in front of each cell. “Isolation cells. This way they can’t talk
to, hear, or see each other.” He opened the first door. “Have a look.”
Without hesitation Sabra entered, followed by the men.
Immediately her gaze went to the prisoner pacing the narrow cell. The fine
robes he wore were rumpled, a testament to a fight.
Upon seeing her, he started forward, only to come to a
stop fifteen feet away, where an unseen security barrier sparked, preventing
him from moving any further forward. Insultingly his hard gaze ran up and down
her. “Bounty hunter.”
One fine brow arched. “Good heavens, Barbus. What a
fix you’ve got yourself in.”
His lip curled. “Fancy seeing you here, hunter. I’d
heard you were dead.”
“A miracle, isn’t it?”
“Hell obviously didn’t want you. I’m not surprised.”
“Hell couldn’t handle me, Barbus. So imagine what I
did there.” Her own soft lips curled. “Imagine what I’ll do to you here.”
“We’re in the civilized sector, hunter. Don’t make me
laugh.”
“We’re in the bowels of a ship, surrounded by soldiers
and security, all wanting the truth. How far do you think they’ll go for it?”
A contemptuous look was the answer.
Small white teeth flashed in a grin. “Come, come,
Barbus. Use your imagination. After all,” her voice became a low, threatening
purr, “they will.”
“They’re not that kind of people, hunter. Certainly
not your kind.”
“Oh dear. Do you think that’s why they have my kind
here? On the ship? In here? With all of you lovely outlaws?”
He stilled, his eyes watchful.
“If these nice soldiers and security can’t touch you
in an uncivilized manner, what do you think bounty hunters are here for?”
The hard face paled a little, his gaze switching to
the security chief. “She lies.”
Laughing, Sabra turned and walked out nonchalantly.
“Let’s see if the others have finished with Barbus’s friend, Sergeant. I’ll
come back after having a lovely little chat to his mates.”
“I didn’t see any hunters on this ship! You’re lying!”
“I never lie,” she called back cheerily. “I’m here,
aren’t I?”
The wild outburst of swearing was cut off as the door
slid shut behind them.
“Mere words. Don’t let it trouble you.”
“You know him,” the security chief stated.
“A vicious outlaw who’s managed to stay well away from
the bounty hunters. Murder and rape are his crimes.”
“Then you probably know these others.”
“I’ll identify those that I can.”
They went from cell to cell. Some of the outlaws paled
at the sight of Sabra, while others remained stony-faced or were openly
insulting. The pale ones she noted, as these would be the weak links.
Entering the last cell, she went still. “Well, well.”
The man dressed in a purple tunic with gold trim
lounged on the bench against the far wall. His gaze raked over her, narrowing.
He didn’t move.
“Pirate.” She inclined her head.
“Bounty hunter.”
They studied each other closely.
The pirate smiled mirthlessly. “Does the hunter have a
protector, then?”
“Does a pirate need mercy?”
“Avoiding the question, Sabra?”
“Waiting for an answer, Arlos.”
“To what?”
“Why a pirate seeks the companionship of outlaws, scum
of the universe.”
“I thought bounty hunters were the scum of the
universe.”
“Not on the level of a pirate.”
“My, we are defensive, aren’t we?” His glance took in
the dangerous face of the giant behind her. “Angry lover?”
Feeling the tension in the muscled body behind her,
Sabra looked up over her shoulder at him, a smile on her face.
A warning in her eyes.
Cursing silently,
Turning back to the pirate, she cocked her head to one
side. “Now then, what are you doing keeping such unsavory company?”
“Well, these soldiers escorted me down here and...” He
gestured with one hand.
“You had no choice. What a shame.”
“I’m glad you understand.” Standing up, he strolled
across the cell until forced to stop by the security barrier. “So, to what do I
owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I want to know what’s going on.”
“Hmm. Good question.”
“So give me a good answer.”
“Now that would be too easy, hunter.”
“Easier than my persuading you.”
“You’ve got a point there.” He pursed his lips. “The
truth is, I’m not really sure what is happening.”
Folding her arms, Sabra leaned one shoulder against
the wall and eyed him disbelievingly.
“Hard to believe, I know, but it’s the truth.” Legs
braced apart, he linked his hands behind his back and returned her scrutiny
with amusement.
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight. There’s a huge
movement of outlaws and pirates in the Lawful Sector, all near positions of
power, and you don’t know what it’s all about?”
“You catch on quick.”
“Pull the other leg, Arlos, it’s got bells on it.”
“I swear it’s the truth.” He held up one hand
solemnly.
Sabra thoughtfully rubbed her chin. “All right, let’s
try this. Whose commands do you obey?”
“Now telling you that will make me a traitor.”
“Not telling me will make you a dead one.”
“Nasty.” Arlos glanced at the scowling giant behind
her. “You need to teach her some manners.”
“For scum like you, she doesn’t need any,”
Sabra noted the faint flicker in the pirate’s eyes and
the way he reassessed
“Hmm.” Arlos returned his attention to Sabra.
“So, who commands you?” she repeated.
“I do believe you met him on Kyros.”
“Fredrico?”
“That’s the one.”
“What’s he got to do with all this?”
“I have no real idea. I just do as he tells me. My
captain and all,” he added.
“I find you hard to believe, Arlos. You see, this
doesn’t sound like the sort of thing Fredrico would cook up. It’s not his
style, unless his ego has grown huger than it is now, which would be an impossibility.
Nay, there’s something else going on here and you know what it is.”
A frown crossed the pirate’s features. “I don’t know
the whole plan, hunter, and that’s the truth. From what I can gather, not many
do.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Believe what you will.”
Sabra straightened up suddenly. “Who’s behind this,
Arlos? It’s not Fredrico, he’s a minor in this, nothing more. There’s someone
else pulling the strings.”
Twenty-three
“Fredrico always did admire your intellect, hunter. He
reckoned you’d be a handy addition to the crew.”
“I’m not interested in what your degenerate captain
thinks. Who’s pulling his strings?”
The pirate met her gaze steadily. “I don’t know.”
“You blindly do what another man orders you?” Uleah
strode forward to stand beside Sabra.
“I trust him. He’s no traitor.”
“That’s why you’re in here and he’s not?”
The pirate smiled.
Uleah glanced questioningly at Sabra.
“All right.” She studied the prisoner intently. “This
much we know. Outlaws and some pirates have been placed near positions of
power. Everything is centered on this Intergalactic Peace Ship. Obviously a
take-over is being planned by--oh, I would hazard a good guess that it’d be a
pirate. Once the ship is taken and the planet leaders held hostage, whomever it
is thinks he’ll gain control of the Lawful Sector. How am I doing so far?”
“Very good. That’s the part of the plan as I know it.”
“But there’s a catch, pirate. You see; someone has
betrayed you all. Your locations have been revealed to the peacekeepers and
soldiers. That’s how you came to be captured. Now why would your master planner
engage your assistance, then betray you all at the crucial hour?”
Arlos watched her silently, his face revealing nothing
of his thoughts.
Resting one arm on the wall near the door, Sabra
leaned forward and said softly, “There’s another player in this, Arlos. Someone
besides the master planner. I’m betting your master planner has no idea it’s
happened--at least, not yet.” Abruptly she pushed back and swung around to face
the silent watchers. “And this master planner is going to strike soon. We have
things to do. Come on.”
“Wait up!”
“Unless you have something worthwhile to tell me,
Arlos, belt up.”
“Maybe I do have something worthwhile after all,
hunter.”
Stopping near the door leading into the corridor,
Sabra glanced back over her shoulder. “And that would be...?”
“There’s a contact vitra on this space ship.”
“What’s that?”
“A little toy Fredrico picked up on his travels. One
touch and it sends a message to the ‘master planner’, as you call him, and he
will make his presence known on this ship.”
She swung back to face him. “And where is this contact
vitra hidden?”
Arlos rocked back on his heels, eyes gleaming. “In the
Council chambers.”
“Is that where your master will appear?”
“Now that I couldn’t tell you. It will reveal
his identity, however, if handled just right.”
Uleah turned to the sergeant. “Get a squad in the
Council chambers and search--”
“Ahem.”
Uleah glared at Arlos. “What?”
“If you touch it accidentally the wrong way, it will
bring a whole heap of trouble aboard this ship immediately. Many will
die.”
“Let me guess.” Sabra raised one brow. “If you come
and identify it, we can disable it without risking notifying this lunatic?”
“You’re very bright.”
“Too bright. You have more to gain by setting it off.
Nay, that won’t do at all, Arlos.”
For several seconds he stared at her, then a slow grin
spread across his face. “Damn, you’re good. How about this, then? I’ll describe
it for you and in return I receive amnesty.”
“How about this? You describe it to me and I won’t
turn you inside out later.”
Arlos burst out laughing, slapping his thigh merrily.
“You are one savage bitch, hunter!”
A low rumble of anger came from
“So I take it you don’t like the choice?” Uleah
studied the laughing pirate.
“You got that right!”
“Then we’re at an impasse.”
“Not so.” Arlos sobered and his gaze steadied on
Sabra. “ I’ll describe the vitra if you ensure that my willingness to help is
known at my trial.”
“So you expect to go to trail now?”
“This is the Lawful Sector, hunter. More than
just bounty hunters call the shots here. After all,” his lip curled, “in this
Sector, you’re just a little star in a big galaxy.”
“I’m touched you noticed.”
“I notice a lot of things. It’s something we have in
common.”
“Hmm.” She eyed him thoughtfully before her gaze slid
to Uleah. “So, what do you think?”
“If what he says is true, we need to know what this
contact vitra looks like.”
“And if he lies and we set it off instead?”
“He’ll die anyway. One of my security guards will stay
here. I’ll keep the intercom on and one sound of trouble, he’ll blow the hell
out of Arlos.”
“I love it.” She grinned at him.
“I thought you’d approve.” He returned the grin.
Arlos gave a snort of disgust.
“Describe the contact vitra to us.” Sabra looked back
at him. “How it activates and how to avoid activating it.”
“And how to disarm it might be useful,” Uleah added.
“Good thinking,” Sabra said approvingly.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t fool me with this camaraderie,” Arlos
sneered. “Bounty hunters and security don’t go well together.”
“Sorry, I forgot.” Uleah shook his head. “I’ll try to
remember that. Now, what does this vitra look like?”
“In a hurry now, are we?” When Sabra and Uleah just
looked silently at him, he scowled suddenly. “It’s a small oval disc, about
three lel wide and five lel long. Flat and silver in color.”
“Where in the Council chambers is it exactly?”
“Probably under one of the tables or chairs.”
“You don’t know where you put it?”
“I didn’t do it, hunter, so there’s no need to look
like that. One of the outlaws did it but I don’t know which one. I doubt you’ll
have the time to question them all enough to reveal the culprit. Nope, you’re
just going to have to search for it.”
“How do we avoid activating it?”
“Simple. Don’t touch the top or bottom of it, not even
a slight knock. Hold it by the sides and ease it off carefully. Once you have
it in your grasp, get rid of it. Throw it out into space and blow it up with a
laser beam. That’s the only way to disarm it.”
“Anything else we need to know?”
“Not that I can think of.” His good humor was suddenly
back. “Good hunting, hunter.”
~ * ~
“Are you sure ‘tis wise to be in on the search?”
“I’ve searched for things before,
“That’s not what I meant.” He placed an arm around her
shoulders. “I don’t want to risk you getting hurt. What if we accidentally activate
the vitra?”
“‘We’?” She glanced up at him teasingly. “What’s this
‘we’ business?”
“You don’t honestly think I’m going to let you go on
this search without me? The stars know what trouble you might get into!”
“Ooh, my very own protector.”
“I’m sticking right by your side and nothing you can
say or do will change my mind.”
“Just be careful.” Uleah appeared on
“You really trust this pirate?”
“It’s the only lead we have right now. A search will
rule out anything in the Council chambers, anyway. If it turns out to be safe
in there with nothing alien around, we might have to move all the leaders back
in while we search the rest of the ship.”
Silence fell as they continued down the corridor and
Giving her shoulders a loving squeeze, he was rewarded
by the sweet smile she cast up at him. If it wasn’t for the soldiers and guards
accompanying them, he would have swept her into his arms. As it was, all he
could do was let his hunger for her burn briefly in his eyes.
She winked.
He blinked, then laughed outright. Saucy wench!
Catching Uleah’s puzzled look, he shook his head with a grin. But his humor
vanished as the sound of an alarm pealed loudly, breaking through the silence.
Uleah pressed the small intercom on his tunic. “What’s
happening?”
“Intruders have been found in the Council chambers!” a
voice crackled back.
The sound of fighting was clear in the background,
followed by a scream.
“How many?” Uleah barked.
“At least twenty--pirates by the look of them! They
were here when we came to inspect it. They seem to be coming from the
Intergalactic Peace Consult room behind it! I--” The words choked off and the
intercom went silent.
Sabra looked at Uleah. “Pirates. There’ll be no
mercy.”
“Let’s go!” Uleah ordered. “Move it before those
bastards break through and enter into the ship! We have to contain them in the
one area!”
Intending to take Sabra to safety,
~ * ~
She could hear the clash of swords coming from the
Council chamber. Bursting through the door, Sabra skidded to a halt so quickly
that
One sweeping glance showed the IPS soldiers battling
pirates and outlaws. Blades cut through flesh, and daggers rent bodies. Fists
smacked dully against bodies. Without hesitation, Sabra snatched a bloodied
sword from the grasp of a dead pirate and threw herself into the fray.
Instinctively wanting to protect her from the
violence,
In his wake followed Uleah with the accompanying
soldiers, and a part of him was relieved to note that they were fighting with
her.
“They’re protecting someone!” Sabra yelled. “Uleah,
the Consult room! The one we need is in there, I’m sure of it!”
Shouting orders, the security chief had his soldiers
form a formidable shield that pushed relentlessly onward toward the
Intergalactic Peace Consult room.
The pathway became open and Sabra slashed her way
forward, ignoring the sting of a cut on her arm. The jacket sleeve soaked up
the blood. Reaching the door, she flung it open and entered quickly,
They came to a stop at the sight of the group of
pirates standing on the other side of the room.
“Well, well, well. So you do live. I was told as much.
You’re a hard one to kill, Sabra.”
On one side of the room stood Darcus, his mocking eyes
raking her form. Slowly Sabra straightened from her crouch, noting the few
pirates and several outlaws arrayed around him. Every single one had their
lasers aimed at the intruders, who in turn had their weapons primed and ready.
It was a deadlock.
Darcus.
“I’ve a score to settle with you--and I will settle it. I’ll live until then.”
A movement by her side made her glance around to see
Quickly she grabbed his wrist. “
Her words penetrated his rage and he stopped. “Face me
alone, you bastard, and I’ll tear you limb from limb!”
“Goodness me, you do have a temper, don’t you?” Darcus
laughed.
“You won’t be laughing when you’re head is shoved up
your--”
“
His burning gaze swept fleetingly around to her and
his nod was barely discernable. But the rage in his eyes didn’t dim, and she
knew that given one chance,
“You just don’t give up, do you, Sabra?” Darcus
drawled, leaning against the circular table. “Do you secretly yearn for another
taste of me?”
Fury burned openly on
“That’s right, listen to the little woman,” Darcus
sneered.
“Come forward and face me like a man, not the
quivering scum hiding behind others like you do now,”
“Oh, I’m really scared.”
Uleah came up on Sabra’s other side. “You won’t win
this fight, pirate. Already your cohorts are starting to buckle beneath the
onslaught of the Intergalactic Soldiers.”
“So you say, but I think otherwise.”
They stared at each other warily, the outlaws and the
lawful, gauging the different reactions, waiting for the first move.
“So now what?” Sabra finally asked. “Do we stand and
look at each other until the fight erupts into this room?”
“I’d do more than look at you. I did before,
remember?” Pale green eyes glinted and he licked his lips. “I’ve tasted you,
hunter, and I liked the flavor.”
Rage pounded inside
“Fantasies aside, Darcus, what now?” Sabra asked. “We
won’t give up. Will you?”
Twenty-four
“Never. This is what I’ve been planning for a very
long time. Do you truly think I’d give up now?”
“Do you truly think we’d let you go ahead?”
“Try and stop me.”
“You’re not exactly stopping us, are you?”
“And we’re not letting you past us,” Uleah stated
quietly. “We seem to be at an impasse.”
At the words,
Darcus didn’t miss the movement. His eyes narrowed.
“Seeking to shelter your lover, Daamen? It won’t do you any good, you know. One
word from me and we all die.”
“So let the others go and we’ll fight this out between
us.”
The laughter was openly derisive. “I’m no fool! One
hit from your monstrous fist would send me straight to hell.”
“An apt place,”
“Hungry hellhound, aren’t you?” Darcus yawned. “You’re
right though, much as it galls me to admit it. We’ll all die if we use lasers.
Still, shit happens. Let’s go for it!”
Tension spilled over and fingers pulled triggers as
everyone threw themselves to the side, aiming for an enemies’ heart.
In a lightning move,
She vanished.
The room vanished.
He tried to scramble upright but he had no substance.
His hands went through the floor and suddenly the floor wasn’t there anymore.
Nothing was there. The walls vanished but incredibly, there were no stars, no
galaxy spread out before him.
“Sabra!” he yelled desperately, yet his voice was
silent. Her name rang in his ears, thundered in his mind, and seemed to pound
through his veins.
Then all of a sudden he felt grit beneath his hands,
and a sandy colored wall appeared waveringly before him. Shaking his head, he
pushed upright and looked around incredulously. Two impressions hit him at
once--a huge sandy expanse of ground and a raised dais fifteen feet above the
ground. Men and women silently sat on the dais watching him. It was an arena of
some kind. Swinging around, he found himself staring at a darkened section of
the dais, a big area some thirty feet wide.
What the hell was going on? Where was Sabra? Where was
he?
“
Recognizing the beloved voice, he swung around to see
Sabra rising from the dirt, confusion on her face. “Thank God!” He hurried over
to her, his arm slipping protectively around her to pull her close against him.
“Where are we?” She looked around.
“I don’t know.” He watched incredulously as Darcus and
his band of pirates appeared.
They seemed to feel the same way he had at first,
heavy and a little clumsy in their efforts to get up.
“What’s going on?” Sabra looked around, curiosity
mixed with puzzlement on her face.
“I don’t know,” he repeated.
Cursing, Darcus peered around, his hand searching for
his laser.
“Where the hell are we?” Darcus roared and started to
stride across the arena toward the raised dais. “Who are you all?”
“Answers will soon come,” a deep voice stated.
Cam turned to face the direction from which the voice
had come, and found that the dark area of glass was now clear, enabling him to
see a man standing on the raised dais, his ebony face inscrutable. Tall and
muscular in build, he was dressed in a billowing shirt tucked into tight pants.
Short black hair swept back from a high brow and deep brown eyes studied Darcus
expressionlessly.
“Pirate,” Sabra breathed. “And look who’s behind him.”
“Fredrico!” Darcus stared at him. “What’s going on
here? Where the hell are we? Where’s the Intergalactic Peace Ship?”
“Now we might be in trouble,” Sabra muttered.
“I’d say that was a certainty,”
“Wherever here is.” Sabra glanced around at the silent
watchers. Where were they? What was this place?
Her attention was diverted back to the ebony pirate as
he spoke aloud.
“I see the questions in all your faces and you’ll soon
know the answers. I’ll tell you what I can so far--”
“It better be bloody good!” Darcus roared. “Veknor,
you bastard, start giving answers fast before--” He ended in a bellow of pain.
A short, sharp snap sounded as Darcus grabbed for the
bottom of the dais. A spark of light accompanied the sound and he was thrown
back to land in the dirt. Shaking his hand, he glared up incredulously.
“Don’t try touching anything,” Veknor drawled.
“Electric currents run through all surfaces--your side only, of course. It’s a
means of keeping you all down there to await the Overlord’s pleasure.”
“Overlord?”
“You’ll meet him shortly.” Veknor’s gaze swept around
the occupants of the arena. “Ah, the bounty hunter. He will be most pleased to
meet you, hunter.”
“I take it you mean this Overlord of yours,” Sabra
returned.
“Oh yes.”
“Who is this bloody Overlord?” Darcus demanded.
“Veknor, what do you mean by bringing us here? How did you do it? You’re
supposed to be preparing to board the Intergalactic Peace Ship! And you,
Fredrico--”
“Hello there, Darcus,” Fredrico greeted him
cheerfully. “Now listen quietly, there’s a good fellow. Veknor is going to fill
you in on some details.”
Burning with indignation, Darcus rose to his feet and
clenched his fists.
Linking his hands casually behind his back, Veknor
regarded him coolly. “You and your pirates were brought here by the not-so
simple method of dissolving your beings into nonphysical particles, and
transferring them here through travel faster than the speed of light as we know
it. A touch of mysticism was also involved, I believe. A little sorcery, you
might say.”
Sabra frowned, wondering where this was all leading.
“The Overlord desired your presence, Darcus. The
pirates accompanying you are solely loyal to you, so of course they had to
come, too.” Veknor looked across at Sabra. “He desired your presence as well,
hunter. It was unfortunate that your friend was caught in the beam--he could
have only done so by being in contact with you at the precise second your
particles were being dissolved. And in case you’re wondering how the beam came
to touch you all, the contact vitra is what Arlos called it.”
Another figure appeared, stepping up onto the dais
beside Fredrico to wave at her.
“Arlos,”
“I’m glad you are.” Sabra folded her arms and gazed up
at the men on the dais. “I’m just hoping it’s a really bad dream.”
She felt his arm around her waist tighten a fraction
in an attempt to reassure her, and would have smiled up at him if the situation
wasn’t so incredible--and dangerous. Not for a second did she fool herself into
thinking that they were safe. Someone was out for blood.
“Your plan to infiltrate the Lawful Sector was lunacy,
Darcus. The fact that so many were gullible enough to actually follow you was
of grave concern to the Overlord.” Veknor inclined his head towards Sabra. “You
were the only one to realize that something was going on. Left to your own
devices, I wonder how far you’d have gotten before things got out of hand?
However, that shall never be known now. Indeed, it doesn’t matter.”
She met his emotionless gaze with a raised brow. “All
right, I’ll buy that you didn’t want Darcus to succeed, so you had him
transferred here. But why did you want me?”
“Not I. The Overlord.”
“Fine. What does he want with me?”
“That’s for him to say, hunter.”
“Where is this Overlord you speak of?” Darcus spat out
furiously. “Let him show his face!”
Veknor smiled slowly. “Patience. He will reveal
himself soon.”
Fuming, Darcus swung around on his heel and his
burning gaze fell upon
“That you’re a dead man, here or not,”
“Dead? You’d think of revenge, even now, when we’re
all in this together?”
“Together? I think not, scum. The first chance I get,
I’m going to break your neck.”
Darcus scowled at the quiet promise.
“Nicely put, trader,” Fredrico called out cheerfully.
Sabra looked up at the pirate, wondering where he
stood in all of this. What did this all mean? Who was this Overlord? Stepping
away from
“What is it, lass?”
“I recognize some. These aren’t just any ordinary
outlaws and pirates. Many of these people head some of the biggest outlaw bands
in the Outlaw Sector. Once they became well-known and their bounty became huge,
they sought the protection of the inner sanctum of the Outlaw Sector. See those
pirate captains over there?” She inclined her head to a group of colorfully
dressed pirates who were assessing them.
“Aye. Let me guess. Their bounty is too big to allow
them to prey outside the safe confines of this Sector?”
“Correct. They use smaller bands of pirates to do
their raids. Pay them handsomely, reward them well, but still vicious. More
vicious than any band that roams the edges of the Outlaw Sector and into the
Lawful Sector.” Sabra turned around fully to look up at
A sudden stirring in the crowd made him look over her head
to the dais where Veknor stood. “I think we’re going to find out.”
She turned around to see a chair appear from behind
the curtained area of the dais. It hovered past Veknor and Fredrico and settled
on the edge of the dais. It had a high back and winged armrests, which gleamed
dully. Gold? Possible. But it was the creature sitting in the chair that
caught her attention.
The skin was such a pure white that it was almost too
uncomfortable to look upon for long. A long-sleeved purple cloak covered the
creature from the neck to the floor. In one limp white hand it held a gold
scepter with a carrion-eater etched in marble upon the top. The head was
elongated with a small lipless mouth, and holes where a nose should have been.
The eyes she could see were round, and seemed to be pink in color, but she
couldn’t be sure from where she stood.
Veknor took a step forward and intoned, “The
Overlord.”
At once every man and woman stood and inclined their
heads in a show of respect. Of submission.
“Shit,” Darcus spat. “This white worm is the
Overlord?”
One of his pirates snickered.
A small smile played around the Overload’s mouth and
he raised the scepter. Immediately the ground behind the pirate opened and a
small creature hopped out abruptly. Head cocked to one side, it eyed the pirate
thoughtfully. Greedily.
Sabra felt her insides clench. It looked like a ball
of mismatched fur and leathery skin, almost comical with its tiny useless
wings. Until it opened it’s beak to show razor sharp teeth.
“Get back!” She pushed back against
He quickly did as bidden, dragging her with him. “What
is it?”
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good in a place like
this!”
Even as the words left her mouth, she saw it pounce on
the pirate.
He screamed, kicking out at it as the teeth sliced through
into his leg. Immediately the creature was joined by several more, all flapping
as they came up and out of the hole. The open beaks emitted harsh growls, deep,
guttural, and threatening. The creatures converged on the pirate, teeth
fastening in his legs to pull him down.
“Darcus!” he screamed. “Help me! For God’s sake, help
me!”
Sabra knew the pirate wouldn’t give any help if it
meant he was in danger, too. True to her belief, Darcus backed away with his
crew, watching in horror as his crew member was dragged, kicking and screaming,
to the edge of the hole. Several tugs and he toppled over into the unknown
depths. A spray of blood arced out several seconds later and his screams
stopped. The hole closed over.
“The worm has teeth.” Everyone looked up as the
creature on the chair spoke, the hissing voice reaching easily out across the
arena. “I am the Overlord, and this is the domain I oversee.”
“I am the only Overlord, Darcus the pirate. There is
no other but me. None greater, none more able to see what folly you would have
wrought with your insane schemes. I am the one the outlaw and pirate leaders
trust, for they know that I see into their souls, for what and who they are. I
know their wants and needs. They know that I will care for them whilst they are
here in my domain.”
And his domain is the center of the Outlaw Sector. Sabra clenched her fist. Bloody hell, they were in
the center of the Outlaw Sector! They were not meant to live.
“Nothing happens that I don’t know about.”
“If that’s so, Overlord, why didn’t you join me in
taking over the Lawful Sector?” Darcus called out loudly. “It’s not too late!
You have the leaders behind you; we can take the Sector now, kill the ones who
won’t submit, and rule in their stead! It’s ours for the taking, you must see
that!”
“You are a fool, Darcus. You are as a serpent who will
whip around and sink its fangs into those who seek to help it. You have no
loyalty to anyone but yourself. You have no care for anyone. You are a danger
to us all.” The Overlord’s lips pinched shut then opened again with a hiss.
“Ssssooo, you were brought here to me.”
“You have your domain. Why do you worry about what I
do? The Lawful Sector is nowhere near here.”
The Overlord flowed to his feet, the cloak rippling
like a second skin against him. “Greed such as yours knows no end. If you’d
managed to overtake the Lawful Sector, you would have stripped it of all life
and nourishment. Enslaved its people, killed for your own pleasure and
gluttony, and turned fertile planets into dust bowls of despair. You would have
destroyed the balance, Darcus. The balance of good and evil. Evil cannot exist
without good. We feed upon it, need it to survive. Good, however, doesn’t need
us. It can thrive--will thrive--without us. Take away the good, and you will
destroy the evil. We are evil, we need to survive. We need the good.”
“We can ensure some planets survive, if that’s your
wish--” Darcus attempted to argue.
The Overlord laughed without humor. “It is not in you
to allow that. You forge ahead and destroy everything in your path without care
or regard. So you will destroy those planets too, sooner or later. Then you
will seek new conquests, and it will start with the Outlaw Sector.”
Darcus’s nostrils flared with anger and humiliation.
“You don’t deny it. Perhaps you wonder why I chose to
bring you here instead of just killing you?”
“Why did you?”
“For personal reasons. I wish to see you suffer,
Darcus. You took something from me, and now retribution is at hand.”
“What did I take? I don’t even know you!”
“That is your greatest fault. You crush those beneath
your boots, discard them, and forget about them. Come closer, for I want to see
your face while I tell you.”
Darcus made to step back but was unable to move his
feet. It was as though he were rooted to the spot. The ground churned beneath
him and suddenly rose up, the earth pushing him upward, then forward, until he
was level with the dais and able to meet the Overlord’s gaze.
“You took my daughter’s innocence, you stripped her of
all pride and so much more. You slashed her to pieces. This is my revenge--and
hers.”
He was unable to move, and Sabra saw the terror
briefly on his face before he hid it.
The Overlord’s gaze switched to her. “The bounty
hunter. I have heard much about you.”
The muscle ticking in
Looking up at the dais, she raised one brow. “I can’t
say the same for you, Overlord. This is the first I’ve known of your presence.”
“Because you don’t venture into the middle of the
Outlaw Sector. No bounty hunter or law enforcer does. Not if they want to live.
But you’re a bit of a legend, you know.”
“I am? How so?”
“Come, it should be no surprise. How many female
bounty hunters are there? Very few run with a pack and survive as you have
done. After being at Darcus’s mercy as a child, one would have expected your
spirit to be broken, but not you, Sabra of the Daamens. You grew up on revenge.
You’ve hunted and hung most of those involved in the murder of your parents and
friends. Do you deny that Darcus is the one you want the most?”
“Nay.”
“So truthful. I like you, hunter. And it’s because I
like you that I have brought you here.”
“That’s comforting. What do you expect of me?”
A hissing laugh issued from the tiny mouth before
jagged teeth snapped shut with an audible click. “Come closer.”
She was ready for it, the earth vibrating beneath her
and lifting her up from the ground. It came as no surprise that she couldn’t
move her feet and she waited, focusing on keeping her face expressionless as
she came to a stop before the dais. She was aware of Darcus on his mound of
earth not far from her, a sheen of sweat on his face.
Now she could see that the Overlord’s eyes were pink,
the pupils vertical, dilating as his gaze studied her. Steadily she met his
gaze.
“Hmm, you are courageous. I am offering you a chance
to have your revenge, hunter. This pirate took your innocence, your family, and
your life as you knew it. You have hunted him for a long time. In this arena,”
he swept his scepter to indicate the area, “you will fight him. The pirates
with Darcus at their head, against you and your lawful friends. A fight to the
death.”
“Two of us against a band of pirates? Uneven odds,
wouldn’t you say?”
“The odds will be evened. Look.”
Sabra followed his gaze and saw an opening appear in
the wall beneath the dais to the right of the arena. Four men walked out into
the arena and she gave a start of surprise.
“Your pack, hunter, or what’s left of them. They, too,
burn for revenge. Evens the odds, don’t you agree?”
She turned back to face the Overlord. “That makes six
of us against twelve pirates.”
“Ah, but your lover easily makes up for two or more.”
“Sabra, nay!”
“So devoted. No, I’m sorry. You see, the path you came
on has closed. It’s open for only a very short time. Even I cannot keep it open
any longer. Truth be told,” the Overlord leaned forward, “bringing so many of
you here has almost depleted it of power. I’m afraid your lover will stay.”
“He has nothing to do with this,” she returned
tightly.
“He has everything to do with it. You’re not the only
one wanting to kill Darcus. In fact, it is going to be a race between you and
your lover to see who is first to get near enough to kill him.” Abruptly the
Overlord waved his arm and the mounds of earth rapidly sank back into the
ground.
It was so quick, that only the steadying hands of
“Don’t you dare try to get rid of me, lass.” He gave
her a fierce hug. “Ever!”
“It’s not your fight--”
“Your fights are mine, remember?” He looked steadily
at her. “Together, lass. We’ll fight together.”
“And you won’t fight alone,” said a voice behind him.
“Cormac!” Sabra reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Shaque! Ricna and Abra! How did you get here?”
“Damned if we know, girl.” Abra scowled. “Same as you,
I guess. One minute we were on the ship, the next, we were in a holding cell.”
“Are you all right?” Shaque frowned at the blood stain
on her jacket sleeve.
“A little tussle on the ship.” She shrugged. “I think
worse is going to happen before today is over.”
“So what’s happening?” Cormac asked.
“We’re to fight the outlaws, apparently. For the
Overlord’s amusement.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction
of the silent, purple-cloaked figure.
“That’s about what we were told, too.” Shaque’s cold
gaze turned to the pirates, who were standing a ways off in a group, talking
amongst themselves and glancing across at them. “What does the winner get?”
“Freedom, I hope,” she returned.
Pursing his lips, Cormac stared at the ground between
his booted feet. “Two to one are the odds, I see. We’ve had worse.”
“We also have
The bounty hunters looked at
Abra grunted. “Evens the odds a bit.”
“But can you kill, trader?” Shaque asked sharply.
“This is a fight to the death, not one of your brawls where the worst that
happens are broken bones and sore heads.”
“You forget, I fight for Sabra. No one touches her and
lives to tell about it.”
“First come, first served, trader. We all want a piece
of that bastard.”
“Fine. You hold him and I’ll rip his head off.”
The knifer stared at him for a moment, then a
reluctant grin tilted the corners of his mouth. “Keep that attitude and I could
get to like you.”
“When you’ve finished inspiring each other,” Abra
grunted, “I suggest we make some plans. Darcus and his crew are eyeing us off
in a rather nasty manner.”
The pirates were indeed watching them and talking
softly. Sabra frowned.
“The pirates against the hunters and the Daamen
trader.” Everyone looked up to see the Overlord standing at the edge of the
dais. “Revenge is the name of the game, survival is the trophy. A fight to the
death.”
A wild cheering rent the air as the watchers rose and
pounded their feet on the dais. From somewhere came the dull thud of a drum.
The Overlord raised one hand and silence fell
immediately, except for the slow and relentless beat of the drum. “It would be
too easy to know your foe, so I’m going to add a little something to make it
more interesting.” He indicated with his scepter and an opening appeared below
the dais. From out of it came ten men, tall and heavily muscled, and stripped
to the waist. “These are my handpicked fighters. Some will fight with the
pirates, some with the hunters. But you won’t know friend from foe until you
come face to face.”
“This just keeps getting better and better,” Ricna
said grimly.
A ripple of excitement went through the watchers, a
low rumble of voices.
“The rules are simple.” The Overlord nodded gravely.
“Fight to the death. Whoever remains standing will live--if championed by
someone here.”
Sabra saw Fredrico frown slightly and exchange a quiet
word with Veknor. The ebony pirate nodded and leaned down to murmur into the
Overlord’s ear. The Overlord cast Fredrico a long look, then inclined his head
before returning his attention to the arena.
“Weapons of choice will be placed in the middle of the
arena. Take one each only and retreat to your specific spot. Darcus’s crew will
go to the right, my men to the left, and the hunters remain in the middle. The
fight begins on my command and will not stop until I say so.”
Sabra rolled her shoulders, watching as several men
appeared with an assortment of staffs, daggers and machetes, and dropped them
onto the ground. As soon as they retreated, she started forward with the
others.
The pirates met with the hunters at the pile of
weapons. Even as they chose their weapons, the groups were already assessing
each other, looking for a weakness.
As Sabra reached for a staff, she glanced up to meet
cold green eyes. Directly opposite her, Darcus was watching. So close, only
several feet away. It would be so easy to jump him right now, so easy...
He stepped back quickly, a sneer on his face.
She took a deep breath and moved back to the center of
the arena. The time would soon be at hand. A warmth at her side made her look
up to meet
“I love you, Sabra,” he said quietly. “Don’t you ever
forget that.”
For the first time since arriving, she felt fear
spiral through her. Not for herself, but for this man she loved more than life
itself. “Don’t get yourself killed,
“I’ve no intention of leaving you alone, lass.”
Reaching out, she took hold of his hand and linked her
fingers through his. “I love you,
“I’ll be right by your side, lass. Every step of the
way.”
She turned to face him, uncaring of the watchers and
of the Overlord. Of anyone. Looking up into his eyes, she said softly, “When
the fight starts, you must concentrate on yourself,
“I won’t risk you dying, lass, so don’t expect me to.”
He cupped her cheek tenderly in one work-roughened palm. “I will fight by your
side.”
“You risk more by trying to fight for both of us.”
“I wouldn’t be the man I am if I didn’t. I can’t
change that, Sabra. You are always first on my mind.” He kissed her cheek
gently. “We’ll do this together.”
Tears stung the back of her eyes and she blinked them
away rapidly. “You stubborn trader. Very well, you just promise me to be
careful.”
His smile warmed her and she leaned up to kiss him
lovingly on the lips.
“Don’t worry,” Shaque said over her shoulder. “I’ll
keep an eye on him.”
Before she could do more than smile at her friend, the
Overlord raised his hand.
“Begin the fight!”
Twenty-five
Automatically the hunters and the trader came shoulder
to shoulder, forming a circle and facing out toward the enemy. From one side
the pirates advanced, from the other the Overlord’s men.
Veknor watched as the pirates rushed forward suddenly
and the Overlord’s men did the same. Rather than break apart in different
directions as he expected, the hunters split into two rows, three facing the
pirates and three facing the Overlord’s men. “Interesting maneuver.”
“They’re experienced fighters,” the Overlord stated.
“The pirates are brash, knowing they outnumber them.”
“But they don’t know who of your men are their
allies.”
“Mmm.”
Fredrico raised his brows at Veknor, who shrugged and
returned his attention to the arena. His gaze swept up and took in the excited
crowd, hearing the yells of encouragement and whoops of glee as blood was
drawn. The Overlord was an intelligent man. He knew that to keep the leaders in
his hold, he had to let them have bloodshed, show them he gave no mercy to
those who crossed him. It was how he’d managed to hold this domain for so long.
The leaders were no fools, either. They knew he gave
them sanctuary, and his powers ensured his own safety. They were too
comfortable to risk losing his favor and protection.
Veknor himself was smart enough to align his loyalty
with someone who knew the importance of keeping the scales of good and evil
balanced evenly.
The clash of daggers and thud of flesh against flesh
brought his gaze down to the battle occurring below him. The groups had met and
confusion reigned briefly as some of the Overlord’s men clashed with the
hunters, while others darted past to engage the pirates in combat. The
Overlord’s men knew their chosen foes and friends, but were also in danger of
being killed by them. It added to their thirst for excitement and blood.
The female hunter now, Sabra, she was holding her own
well enough. She wielded the staff
with a skill that invoked his admiration, using it to block blows aimed at her
as well as to attack. One pirate went down with a blow to his stomach, another
with his genitals struck a crippling blow by the end of the staff.
One of the Overlord’s men looped an arm around her
throat and was pulling her back. Veknor leaned forward as the giant Daamen
trader gave a bellow of rage and delivered a shattering blow with his fist to
the attacker’s spine. The attacker went down, screaming, and tried to scrabble
out of the way, but his broken spine only allowed his arms to claw at the dirt,
while his legs dragged uselessly behind him.
He hadn’t thought the Daamen capable of doing that.
They weren’t known for violence. The love of a good brawl, yes, but not the
sort of violence he was witnessing now. Then again, he was protecting the
woman, it was plain to see.
The other hunters fought with the deadly skill for
which they were known. The blonde one with the knife brandished it with a
dexterity he admired. Resting his chin on his hand, he watched the bloody
spectacle below.
~ * ~
Blood trickled down
Rage boiled through him, awareness that others were
attempting to hurt Sabra. His one intent was on keeping her safe, but guarding
her back was proving harder than he’d anticipated. Pirates seemed to seethe
around them, getting between him and his lass. The Overlord’s men were another
threat to her, though one less, now.
A machete came at him and he dodged to the side,
grabbing the pirate’s arm and twisting it palm up towards the sky. In one
movement, he brought it down across his upraised knee, hearing the sharp crack
of the bone and the pirate’s agonized scream almost simultaneously. Without
letting the broken arm go, he jerked the pirate forward and smashed his elbow
into the man’s face. The cartilage of his nose crunched, and he went down
choking in his own blood.
Two men came at him from either side, a pirate with a
staff and an Overlord’s man with a dagger. The pirate struck out with the staff
while the other man dodged below, aiming for
Suddenly a staff slid into view, the end swinging up
into the man’s nose, breaking it and forcing up splinters of bone to pierce his
brain. The man fell, his death throes crushed beneath the boots of the
fighters, until someone kicked him out of the circle.
Sabra swung in front of
Sabra left
Fighting her way to the edge of the battling men,
Sabra started towards Darcus. It seemed he knew, for his head lifted and he
sniffed the air as though catching a whiff of her. His green eyes glowed with
bloodlust and his smile was feral, showing his teeth.
He wanted her. Was waiting for her. As she’d been
waiting for him.
She met him apart from the fighters. Face to face with
the man who’d tried to destroy her.
“The time is now,” she said softly.
“You’ve waited many years for this, hunter.” He
laughed, a hint of craziness in his eyes.
“It kept me going when others would have quit.”
“I’m delighted that I consumed your thoughts so much.”
He circled her slowly, weighing the dagger in his hands. “I must say, I have
fond memories of you, too.”
Keeping him in her sights, she mimicked his movements.
“You know, I still hear your cries of pain. I can
still taste the blood I lapped as it trickled from your body.” He licked the
dagger blade suggestively. “I can still taste you.”
He was light on his feet, she saw. Watchful, even as
he attempted to bait her. She had to ignore his taunts and concentrate on his
movements, looking for a sign of weakness, an opening.
“I want another taste of your blood!” He sprang
forward suddenly.
She raised her staff in time to deflect the dagger
aimed at her face, bringing it down just as quickly to halt the blow aimed at
her stomach.
He moved fast, swinging the dagger around, but she
blocked him again. Bending quickly, Darcus snatched up a machete. Now he swung
both weapons, and with lightening fast moves Sabra was able to deflect each
downward swing. He swung from the side, and she spun the staff around to block
the blow, but it left her open, and he immediately took advantage of it. His
boot thudded into her exposed stomach and she doubled over, instinct making her
slide to the side and dodge the machete on its deadly downward swing. If it had
connected, it would have hacked her almost in half.
His boot slammed into her side and she skidded over
onto the ground. Refusing to acknowledge the pain, she rolled in the dirt,
feeling his dagger slice past her face to gouge a deep groove into her upper
arm. Shit, now that did hurt! Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it!
He was still coming after her. Flinging out her hand,
she grabbed the fallen staff and quickly thrust it between his feet.
With a howl he tripped, falling heavily. But it bought
her enough time to push to her feet and bring the staff up in front of her.
Running to his side, she raised the staff and aimed it at his throat.
Too late she saw his hand come up abruptly. The sting
of sand hit her face, grains scratching into her eyes. Blinded momentarily, she
staggered back, desperately blinking and trying to see where Darcus was.
“I have you now, bitch!” he bellowed.
His blurry image appeared before her and she swung the
staff, but it was knocked aside.
He has to be close to do that. Close enough to hit
back.
Focusing on his blurred image, she charged forward and
thudded into him, pushing him backwards to the ground. She clawed for his face,
only to have her hair grabbed and find herself rolled onto her back. Dimly she
could make out the dagger held in his upraised fist, and desperately she
grabbed for his wrist, trying to hold his arm back.
“I’ll kill you, bitch, just like I did your mother and
father!” Darcus snarled.
A roar of rage rent the air, one she recognized
immediately, and suddenly Darcus’s weight disappeared off her.
The screams and shouts of excitement from the dais
were reaching a fever pitch. The smell of blood, sweat, and dust filled the
air. The grunts of men, the cries of the dying, the smack of flesh striking
flesh was almost drowned out by the fervor of the cheering crowd.
Another pirate appeared behind him and swung the staff
he held. It hit
The pirate saw her coming and swung again quickly.
This time she saw
In a frantic attempt to get loose, Darcus slashed his
dagger towards
“Nay!” She screamed her rage. “You bastard, Darcus!”
Gasping for air, Darcus pushed up onto his knees. His
crew member was standing guard over him, waiting for Sabra.
The pirate swung the staff and Sabra blocked the blow
with her forearm. Quickly she whipped her hand around to catch it, using the
full force of her body to twist, sending the pirate stumbling right into the path
of Shaque. The hunter’s dagger flashed and a crimson line appeared on the
startled pirate’s throat. It grew wider and blood spurted forth.
Shaque’s grim gaze met hers briefly, and with a nod he
leaped back into the fray.
Darcus was trying to push upright but Sabra lunged for
him, driving him back down into the dirt.
They fought savagely, years of hate boiling up between
them. Rolling in the dirt, punching and clawing, they lashed out at each other.
Both were totally unaware of what was happening around them.
Sabra saw the glint of a fallen dagger as they rolled
past it and she groped quickly for it, but missed. Darcus didn’t. He grabbed it
in one fist. Rolled her onto her back so that he rested atop her, he brought
the dagger down.
Jerking her head aside, she felt the rush of air as it
whistled past her to thud into the ground. He yanked it free and lifted his arm
again and she fastened her own hand around his wrist.
He laughed down at her, blood pouring from his nose to
spatter onto Sabra’s shirt and face, already wet with her own blood. “I’m going
to kill you, hunter! I’m sending you to hell where you belong. Say hello to
your parents for me.”
Teeth clenched, she pushed against his hand, but felt
the crazed strength of him. There was no way she could hang on much longer.
“Nay, you’re going to hell instead,” a deep
voice rumbled ominously.
Behind Darcus, Sabra saw
He was going to kill
Damned if she’d allow it!
With a sudden surge of strength, she grabbed the
dagger and wrenched it from Darcus’s hand. In one swift move, she slashed it
across his bared throat.
Darcus stared down at her with a mixture of hate and
disbelief. Blood seeped from the gash in his throat and he pressed his hand
against it. Then he reached for her, ignoring the red life-giving fluid as it
streamed down his chest and soaked his shirt. His fingers wrapped around her
throat.
A sharp crack sounded as his head was snapped to the
side. He went limp but he didn’t fall onto her, for
The rage died from his eyes and with tender hands he
pulled Sabra into a sitting position.
“Are you all right, sweet lass?”
She could only stare at him. He’d done it. He’d
actually done it. He’d broken Darcus’s neck. This gentle giant she loved with
all her heart, had killed her enemy. And all he cared about was her.
“Sabra?” Worriedly,
“I--I’m fine. What about you?” She reached up to lay a
hand against his face, seeing the blood streaming from the cut to his rugged
cheek.
“Don’t worry about me.” He looked up suddenly,
gathering her close, his gaze searching for more threats to her life.
She became aware of the silence. There was no
fighting, no cheering. The silence was almost deafening.
What had happened? She made to get to her feet, and
Cormac’s arm hung down at an odd angle. Broken.
Ricna was staunching the flow of blood from his head with a dirty shirt ripped
off one of the pirates. Head injury. Shaque’s jaw was swollen, one eye
shut, and he spat out a tooth. Blood was soaking the leg of his pants. Multiple
injuries but the leg looked the worst. Abra--Oh God, he was holding a
section of his scalp on with one hand. His chest was covered in cuts and grazes
and he was limping.
She said the first thing that came into her mind. “You
all look like shit.”
“You don’t look so hot yourself, sweetheart,” Shaque
rasped.
“But we made it.” She looked around to find that only
the hunters and three of the Overlord’s men still stood. “We did it.”
“It’s not over yet.” Cormac nodded grimly in the
direction of the dais.
Lifting her head, she first noticed the crowd watching
them silently, then looked up to see the Overlord contemplating them.
Immediately
~ * ~
“That was a rough fight,” Veknor stated.
“Most entertaining.” The Overlord ran one finger
across his mouth. “I didn’t expect all the hunters to survive. They’re a tough
breed.”
“Especially this pack,” Fredrico agreed. “Now what?”
“Now what indeed.” The Overlord stood and walked to
the end of the dais. He studied the bloodied combatants, the survivors of the
battle.
Veknor leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms,
waiting for the Overlord’s announcement.
“You nine are all that remain standing. Three of my
men, five hunters and one trader. I’m impressed. Very impressed. Now remains
the question of what to do with you all.” He smiled faintly as the survivors
stared back at him silently. “Ah, you know that my word is law here. If I say
‘die’, you die. If I say ‘live’, you live. But I say neither. No, for you live
only if championed.”
Sabra stepped forward carefully. “And who, out of all
these outlaws and pirates, would champion us, Overlord? There is no love lost
between us and them.”
How he admired the pride evident in her tired eyes,
the shoulders straight, refusing to bow beneath the weariness and pain she had
to be feeling. “You’re brave, hunter, to challenge me when you are at my mercy.
But I have a little surprise for you. There is someone here who will champion
you.” It was clear she had no idea, so he motioned behind him.
Fredrico stepped forward and flashed her a grin. “I’ll
champion you, sweetheart.”
“How surprising. I suppose you’ll kill me at the first
chance?”
“Now don’t be like that, m’dear. I happen to be very
fond of you.”
The Overlord saw the stiffening of the giant by the
hunter’s side, the darkening of his eyes. “Do you also champion the trader,
Fredrico?”
“He’s not really my type, Overlord.”
The sound of amusement ran through the crowd.
“If you don’t champion
“Nay.”
“Not without you.”
“Sabra, I love you too much--”
“You stay, I stay.”
“Lass--”
“Bloody hell!” Fredrico said, exasperated. “I’ll take
your bloody lover as well! Anything to stop that sickly-sweet argument!”
The amusement was louder this time.
“And my friends,” she stated.
The amusement died away, the watchers growing silent.
Their gazes switched to the Overlord.
“No,” Fredrico said shortly. “Sorry, pretty lady, only
two can be championed by each person.”
She glared at the Overlord. “You said if we
were championed. Not just two of us.”
He spread his arms out to the sides. “I did, and I
don’t lie. Is there anyone here who will champion the bounty hunters?” Silence
greeted him. He looked down at the bloodied group in the arena. “It would
appear that no one wishes to champion the four remaining bounty hunters.”
“I will champion the one called Cormac, and one
other.”
The Overlord looked around as a heavily veiled woman
stepped up behind him. “This is not for you to choose.”
“It is a tournament, these are the winners. They have
the right to be championed, don’t they?”
“Yes, but--”
“They killed the one, didn’t they? Darcus, the
pirate?”
The Overlord stared silently at her then held out his
hand. When her gloved fingers rested in his, he led her over to the edge of the
dais. “The one called Cormac, did you say?”
“Yes.”
“Who else?”
The veiled head moved slightly. “The blonde one,
Father.”
~ * ~
Veknor pursed his lips. Now this was an unexpected
happening. It wasn’t like her to take an interest in these bloody battles. He
would like to know what her reasons were.
“Very well. That leaves two to be championed. Only two
left. Live or die? It is in the hands of you observers. Championed, they will
live. If not, they will die.
Silence again. Veknor studied the watchers lazily.
None would champion these two, that much he knew. His gaze fell upon the
bloodied group, and was immediately ensnared by cobalt eyes so intense, he felt
as though they probed his very mind. The female hunter, Sabra. She was staring
at him. Surely she wasn’t asking him to champion the hunters? She was! He
could see it in her eyes.
Surprised, he blinked. The proud hunter’s gaze didn’t
waver. It was a little unnerving.
“Is there anyone who will champion these two?” the
Overlord called again.
Veknor shifted.
“Why don’t you do it?” Fredrico whispered.
“Do what?”
“I can see Sabra looking at you. Champion those bloody
friends of hers.”
“They mean nothing to me. I don’t care if they live or
die.”
He heard Fredrico sigh and thought that would be the
end to it. It wasn’t.
“It would be handy to have these hunters in our debt.”
“For who? You don’t seriously think they’ll turn a
blind eye to us later for helping them now?”
“You’re right, they won’t. That’s why we like them so
much. That and the fact that they helped get rid of Darcus. Don’t you think
they deserve to live just for that?”
“No.”
“Then do it for Sabra.”
“No.”
“Then do it for me.”
Startled, Veknor looked around at Fredrico. His
friend’s eyes were serious, no sign of laughter in the normally merry depths.
Shock rippled through him at a sudden knowledge. “You
lo--”
“I admire her and have always done so. She’ll never
know. As my friend, I’ve never asked anything of you. But I have followed you
in this mission and in return, I ask that you simply champion her friends and
set them all free. For me.”
“And so saying, for Sabra.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure of this?”
“Yes.”
Nodding slowly, Veknor turned to face the front again.
“I will champion the scalped hunter and the dark-complexioned one.”
He saw the surprise reflected in the Overlord’s
dilating pupils.
“Very well.” The Overlord faced the crowd surrounding
the arena. “By the laws we invoked for today, we must abide. The survivors have
been championed and will live. If there is any dispute, then say so now. But
remember, these laws we voted on together.”
Silence remained. No one spoke.
“Good. The fight is finished, our enemy is dead. My
daughter has been avenged. Others,” his eyes lingered on Sabra, “have had their
revenge.” His gaze slid down to the ground near the other side of the arena and
he held up his scepter. The ground opened up and the sharp-toothed creatures
came boiling up out of the ground, heading for the dead bodies. They squabbled,
snapping at each other, dragging the bodies to the edge of the pit and tipping
them over into it. Within minutes the ground was cleared of bodies and the last
creature disappeared down the hole. The ground closed up and nothing remained
but drying blood and scuffed dirt amidst the weapons of death.
“Bring the survivors to the waiting chamber,” the
Overlord ordered. “But only those three. The rest return to their rightful
places.”
Aiming his scepter at the silent hunters, the Overlord
made a small motion of his head, and immediately Ricna, Shaque and Abra
shimmered and dissolved.
His amused gaze settled on Sabra’s suspicious face.
“Don’t worry, hunter. Your friends have been returned to their ship. I have no
need of them now. But you three, I wish to talk to.”
Twenty-six
The waiting chamber was smaller than Sabra had
expected it to be. It was also gray and dismal with only a few hard-backed
chairs. “Obviously he doesn’t want his guests to get too comfortable.”
“He’ll live,” she replied.
“For now, anyway.” Cormac warily eyed the outlaws
guarding them
“I think if the Overlord was going to kill us, he’d
have done so out there.” Sabra gave a quick glance at the lasers aimed their
way. “He could have done so at any time.”
“He could be just amusing himself at our expense.”
The doors at the end of the room opened and the
Overlord swept in, surrounded by guards, and accompanied by Fredrico, Veknor
and the veiled woman.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Sabra muttered.
“Learta?”
Surprised, Sabra looked at
“Aye. She saved your life. But I don’t understand...”
He stopped, nonplused by Learta’s emotionless gaze that flicked briefly across
him before settling on Cormac.
The Overlord stopped at a safe distance from them, his
pupils dilating as he surveyed them. His gaze flickered to the bandages binding
their wounds. “I see my daughter supplied you with aid.”
“Our thanks.” Cormac nodded at the veiled figure of
the woman.
“It was my pleasure to see to your welfare, mi
debar.”
He went pale at the words. “It can’t be...”
“Cormac?” Alarmed, Sabra touched his good arm. “What’s
wrong?”
Staring at the veiled woman, he didn’t answer.
The Overlord regarded Cormac seriously. “It seems my
daughter knows you, hunter.”
Cormac knew the Overlord’s daughter? Sabra studied the wench intently, but was unable to
make anything out beneath the thick veil.
“Come, hunter. Learta saved your life, did she not?
She found you on the bottom of that pile of dead bodies. Your pack, slaughtered
and left in the snow. But you,” the Overlord smiled thinly, “your spirit was
strong. You were not ready to die. Learta took you to her home and cared for
you.”
“You,” Cormac whispered.
The guards tensed as Cormac stepped forward but Learta
held up her hand to them. “No.”
Stopping before her, Cormac reached out and slowly
slid the veil from her head. Sabra’s breath caught at the sight of the scarred
face, the lips that were pulled up at one corner, and the eye that drooped.
Scars pulled the skin taut, puckering the flesh. Eyes the color of the blue sky
gazed lovingly up at Cormac.
“We meet again, mi debar. I was nearly too
late.”
“I don’t understand,” he said hoarsely. “You’re the
Overlord’s daughter? His daughter?”
The Overlord chuckled. “You’re thinking she doesn’t
look like me, hunter, and you are correct. Learta is my adopted daughter.”
Sabra watched in growing understanding. This was the
wench that had saved her, and her pack leader, too. What she didn’t understand,
was why an outlaw’s daughter would bother.
“You live here?” Cormac looked searchingly at Learta.
“But your home is on the edge of the Outlaw Sector. I don’t understand, Learta.
What is your involvement in all of this?” His gaze switched to encompass the
Overlord. “What is your involvement? And ours?”
“Ah, the time for answers, I see.” The Overlord walked
across to one of the chairs and sat down.
Sabra noticed that Cormac didn’t move away from
Learta. Instead, he moved to stand beside her, facing the Overlord. Shifting
her attention to the Overlord, she filed away the detail to ponder over later.
“The story begins a long time ago but I’ll make it
brief. Details are not your business. I adopted Learta when her parents died.
They were two of the most gifted healers in the Outlaw Sector and worked
exclusively for me, tending those that are loyal to me. They were killed in a
spaceship accident when Learta was six years old.” His pupils narrowed as he
glanced at her. “Learta has lived with me ever since. My daughter in every way
except blood.”
Learta smiled at the Overlord. Or it would have been a
smile, except the scars twisted it into a leer. Sympathy welled up inside
Sabra. No wench should have to suffer that.
“However, dutiful daughter though Learta is, she
doesn’t share my love of the Outlaw Sector. Or to be more precise, the inner
aspect of it. You must have realized by now, that you are in the middle of the
Outlaw Sector?”
Cormac nodded.
“What was said before is true. We need the good to
survive. It needs a strong hand to keep the pirate and outlaw leaders in hand.
A certain amount of ruthlessness, shall we say. Though understanding of the
need for bloodshed and harsh rules, Learta cannot happily live in such an area.
Instead, she chose to travel the Sector, visiting healers and the sick alike,
using the gifts from her parents to heal and nurse. Unfortunately, she fell
into the hands of Darcus. As you can see, he wasn’t kind to her.” The
Overlord’s voice was expressionless, though his tight grip on the scepter was
apparent. “He didn’t know who she was. He raped her, then slashed her face and
hands, so she’d never forget him. Putting his mark on her. He left her for
dead, and only Veknor discovering her and assisting in her healing saved her
life. For that, he holds a special place here.”
“It was Beulah, the witch woman, who healed her,”
Veknor stated calmly. “Not I.”
“But it was you who brought Learta home here, not
knowing if you faced death.”
Veknor shrugged. “I lived.”
The Overlord gave a sudden hissing laugh of amusement.
“For a pirate, you’re ego is not very big.”
Veknor merely looked expressionlessly at him.
Learta looked at Cormac. “My wounds healed. Beulah
showed me how to heal my mental wounds as well.” Her glance slid across to
Sabra. “We both suffered under Darcus. But he is in hell now, where he belongs,
and can no longer hurt us.”
“Or anyone else,” Sabra quietly added.
“True.”
“Thanks to your man and you.” The Overlord’s attention
focused on
“Sabra is mine,”
Sabra caught Fredrico glancing at her, and wondered
uneasily what the Overlord was planning. She only had his word that her pack
had been sent safely back to their ship. But what about
The Overlord smiled slightly. “Your question is plain
in your eyes, hunter, and the answer is simple. I’m going to send you three back
to your ships.”
“You’ll let us go? Just like that?”
“You’ve served your purpose. You provided sport for my
outlaws and pirates, their need for bloodletting met. You killed the man who
hurt my daughter, and you were an intriguing diversion. Once you became
involved, I followed your progress with interest. Yes, I’m going to let you
go.”
Cormac eyed him, distrust evident in his gaze. “Even
though we’re bounty hunters?”
“You can’t find me, pack leader. No one can. The
middle of the Outlaw Sector is impenetrable. My kingdom here is secure. I don’t
fear you. Sabra and her lover I let go with no qualms. I admit that I hadn’t
planned for you to go, but it seems my daughter thought otherwise, and because
she championed you, you live.”
The Overlord’s daughter. Why had she championed
Cormac? Sabra gazed at Learta
curiously.
Cormac turned and faced Learta. Taking her scarred
hands in a surprisingly gentle grip, he asked softly, “Why did you champion
me?”
“How could I not, mi debar? You made me a
promise, remember?” Her blue eyes shimmered. “Or has that changed now?”
He went still. Had it? He’d promised to return for
her. But after all that had happened, who she was...
“Am I so different now?”
“No,” he replied, then more firmly, “No.”
The Overlord watched emotionlessly. Sabra switched her
gaze from the couple to him, wondering what he thought. The Overlord looked
suddenly at her, pupils dilating as he studied her in turn. Behind her she felt
A thin smiled curled the lipless mouth of their
captor. “It is time you all returned to your rightful places.”
“I thought you didn’t have the power to return us,”
Sabra said.
“I lied. What else did you expect from the Outlaw
Sector?”
Fredrico gave a snort of laughter.
“Are you ready, Learta?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Then go.”
Sabra saw the Overlord lift his scepter, and suddenly
the world around her seemed to dissolve. She felt
Cormac shook his head dizzily as his body materialized.
Glancing around, he recognized the dining cabin of his hunters’ ship. So, the
Overlord had sent him back. He personally had doubted it. Getting carefully to
his feet, he felt a hand come beneath his elbow to steady him.
“Allow me to help, mi debar.”
“Learta?” He looked from the gloved hand under his
elbow to the woman standing beside him. “You’re here?”
“Of course,” she replied calmly.
“I thought you’d stay there, with the Overlord.” He
didn’t know what to think. Didn’t dare to think that something else had made
Learta come.
“I can only return there if he summons me, otherwise
it’s impossible.” Her regard was steady. Serious. “Am I not welcome after all?”
“You’re more than welcome. I--”
“Cormac? You’re back! Where’s Sabra? Is she--who’s
this?”
Cormac looked up to see Shaque enter the dining cabin,
Abra and Ricna following. All of them wore bandages and dressings over their
wounds, and all looked with widening eyes at Learta.
“I think you know who she is.” Cormac moved to stand
beside her with one hand protectively on her shoulder.
It was obvious his pack noticed.
Abra’s brows rose. “We know who she is. What we don’t
know is why she’s here.”
“Because she is with me.”
“I see. I think.” His gaze flicked searchingly past
Cormac. “Where’s Sabra? Is she all right?”
“She and her man have been returned to their ship,”
Learta answered calmly. “Everyone is where they should be.”
Abra’s gaze snapped back to her.
“Are they?” Shaque asked, equally quiet.
“Yes.” Cormac stepped forward, placing himself partly
in front of Learta. “They are.”
Shaque studied him silently.
“Learta came with me,” Cormac stated firmly. “No one
is to touch her.”
“We wouldn’t.” Abra frowned. “But I’d like to know
what’s going on here.”
“So would I.” Ricna eyed his pack leader thoughtfully.
They had a right to know. They were his pack. And the
woman in their midst was the adopted daughter of an outlaw Overlord. What could
he say? How could he explain her presence when he didn’t even know himself? Looking down at the woman by his side, Cormac met her
calm gaze. And he knew. “Learta is going to be my wife.”
~ * ~
“Well, the outlaws and pirates are incarcerated and
awaiting judgment. Davan says everything is under control and should be back to
normal very soon.”
“Just wondering how my pack is.”
The pack.
“I know it’s been two weeks, lass, but they’ll be here
soon.”
“Another day. ‘Tis not too long.”
“In a hurry to leave?” Wrapping his arms around her
waist, he leaned his chin on the top of her head.
“Nay.”
“Not looking forward to saying goodbye to Darvk,
Tenia, and the children?”
“I won’t be saying goodbye at all.”
“Not say goodbye? Do you intend to just leave without
a word, lass?” Lifting his chin,
“I’m not leaving.”
He went still. Had he heard right? Not leaving?
Turning around, Sabra studied the handsome bewildered
face above her, seeing the puzzlement in the dark eyes change to a flicker of
hope. A smile crept across her face and she leaned back in the circle of his
arms.
“What are you saying, lass?”
“Just that. I’m not leaving. I’m staying here on
Daamen--well, close by, anyway. It depends.”
“I’m not following you, Sabra.”
“For an intelligent man, sometimes you’re not too
bright. Do you want to live with the pack?”
“Nay! I mean, aye. For you, anything, but--”
“So you don’t have to live with them. You can continue
your trading, and I’ll stay and work with the Security of the Intergalactic
Peace Ship.”
“Security?”
“Aye. Uleah offered me a position on the investigation
squad and general security. It means I’ll be working with the peacekeepers as
well, which will be the amusing part. At least I’ll get a few laughs. Of
course, it means that part of the time I’ll have to live on the Intergalactic
Peace Ship, and other times I’ll have to travel to outlying areas when there is
trouble which threatens the Intergalactic Peace laws. Security breaches and
that sort of thing.”
“We’re not leaving?”
“Nay.”
“We’re not going with the pack?”
“Nay.” Sabra watched in amusement as a myriad of
emotions crossed his face. Relief, happiness, bemusement, and a dawning
wonderment.
Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “Nay.”
“Nay?” She was taken aback.
“Nay. You’re doing this for me, aren’t you? Because
you think I won’t survive your lifestyle.”
“Wrong,
His big hands slid up to grip her upper arms firmly.
“You’ve wanted to return to Cormac and the others since you arrived here. Why
the change of mind? I won’t let you sacrifice your own happiness because of
me.”
Sabra gazed steadily into his eyes. “With Darcus dead
and my parents’ deaths avenged, as well as those who sought to shield me from
the pirates, I have no yearning to risk my life fighting outlaws and pirates
face to face anymore, unless I have to. Belonging to a pack means I’ll risk
death every day, and now that I’ve found you, I have everything to live for.”
Reaching up, she tenderly touched his rough-hewn cheek, just below the newly
healing scar. “I love you,
“Aye, they did. They’ll always be my family and I’ll
always love them. Make no mistake, if they have need of me, if one of them gets
hurt, I will go to them. But they are not my main focus in life now. You are.”
“Are you sure, lass?” He searched her face intently,
looking for signs of uncertainty and hesitation. “The life you mean to take on
will be so different, mayhaps even boring--”
Sabra gave a gurgle of laughter. “Boring? Didn’t you
hear me,
“But ‘tis so much more than that--”
“You worry too much.” She wound a curly strand of
black hair around her finger and used it to tug his face closer down to her.
“Mayhaps I should ask if you mind that while you’re away trading, I’ll be away
on the IPS working, or somewhere else seeing to security. Will it bother you
that your lifemate works away from Daamen, and is only here when you are?”
A smile curved his firm lips as he leaned his forehead
against hers. “And what if I choose to shorten my trips away, lass? Or coincide
them to the same planets you have to visit?”
“Won’t that bore you?” A tingle of warmth went
through her at the thought of returning from work to find this handsome gentle
giant awaiting her.
“God, nay!” He chuckled, his eyes gleaming wickedly.
“It’s quite titillating to know that the tough security wench is my little
wife.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye.” He grew serious again. “But what if you get
pregnant, lass?”
“I’ve already thought of that, you being the lusty man
you are. I can work from Daamen when that time comes. Investigations and
hunting don’t have to be done in the thick of the action. Remember?”
Aye, he remembered. He could still picture her,
striding up and down the room, studying the galaxy map and figuring out the
puzzle. Thriving on the challenge.
“See? All sorted out,
He was more than happy. Right now, he was the most
contented man in the universe. “There’s
just one more thing.”
“Hmm?”
“Did I hear you say I wasn’t very bright?” He slid one
hand down to rest on her rounded bottom.
“Did I say that?” Sabra looked innocent.
“Oh aye, you did.”
“Well, fancy that.”
“Aye, fancy that.” Leaning down, he placed his lips
against her ear. “That little remark calls for a bit of discipline.”
“Discipline? From you?” She burst out laughing.
“Disrespectful wench.” Grinning,
Sabra only laughed harder.
“Now I know why the peacekeepers dislike bounty
hunters.”
Nestling in close to his warmth, she rubbed her cheek
against his. “Sorry. Go ahead with the discipline.”
“Now you’re giving me permission?”
“Aye.”
Drawing back,
“For giving you permission?” Her eyes twinkled.
“For being you. For coming back into my life. For
loving me.”
“You’re easy to love,
“I don’t. Without you, my life is meaningless. I’ve
told you that before.” Lowering his head, he breathed against her lips, “You
are my life.” Then he kissed her.
In that kiss Sabra felt everything.
Twenty-seven
But they cared for his lass, and for that reason he
accepted them willingly into his home.
His gaze settled curiously on Learta. Now why was
she here?
Sabra approached the veiled woman. “I understand I owe
you my life, and that of Cormac.”
“Your life you owe to God. I merely assisted.” Above
the concealing veil, Learta’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. “Your
time hadn’t come.”
“Nevertheless, I owe you thanks. Many thanks.” Sabra
embraced her. “If you ever need anything, you know where I am.”
“With your man.”
“Aye.”
“Oh?” Shaque looked sharply at
“Aye. Shaque, there’s something I need to tell you
all.” Clearing her throat, Sabra backed up until she stood beside
“Not going back?” Abra echoed.
“Nay. I love
“It’s just that you’ve found someone you choose to
spend your life with.” Abra sighed suddenly, his smile a touch sad. “We
understand, girl. We realized you cared for the trader when we were in the
Overlord’s arena. It’s no surprise to us.”
“At least he’ll look after you.” Shaque speared
Relief spiraled through Sabra as she saw the
acceptance on her beloved friends’ faces. “We’ll meet, won’t we? You’ll stay in
touch? I’ll stay with you at your homes, and you’ll come and visit me here?”
“Course we will, girl,” Shaque said gruffly, pulling
her into his arms for a hug. “You’re the only sister we ever had, and we’re not
about to let you go.”
Ricna gave him an incredulous look.
“For what you did for Sabra, you’ll always be
welcome,”
Sabra smiled at him, then her gaze switched to Cormac,
who was standing quietly listening. “You haven’t said anything, Cormac. Have I
disappointed you?”
He shook his head. “Never. Your job is done, Sabra,
and now is the time to recommence living.”
“I’ll miss you.” She took his hand. “Can you all stay
awhile?”
“Only long enough to see you wed, then I return to
Otar with Learta.”
“And we return to bounty hunting,” Abra said.
Puzzled, Sabra looked from him to Cormac. “You’re
having a rest from hunting?”
“I’m retiring.”
“Retiring? What do you mean?”
Cormac smiled slightly. “I’m retiring from bounty
hunting, getting wed to Learta, and recommencing my own life.”
“You’re getting wed?” Shocked, Sabra looked
around the silent group. “You’re leaving the pack?”
Cormac looked at him. “You don’t know my story,
trader. What pushed me onwards in the hunt to eradicate outlaws. Sabra knows,
and she understands. Seeing as you’re going to become a part of her extended
family, so to speak, it’s probably a good idea that you know the story.” Cormac
took a deep breath before continuing quietly. “I became a bounty hunter after
my family was murdered by outlaws. I had a wife and two young sons. I came home
and found them slaughtered. My life’s mission from then on was to hunt the
bastards down who’d done it. I succeeded, but couldn’t settle to an ordinary
life. There were more outlaws out there, killing and maiming. It became my life
to hunt them down.” His gaze switched to Sabra, growing warm. “Then we found
you. You were the daughter I never had. The sister Shaque lost in an outlaw
attack. Abra’s niece who was murdered one dark night. Ricna’s childhood friend,
kidnapped and sold into slavery by pirates. You were special to us. Once we saw
how determined you were to hunt Darcus down, it became our mission to teach you
all we knew, to protect you and assist in your hunt as we went. Well, we did
it, Sabra. Or rather, you and
“Aye, he’s gone. But I still don’t quite
understand...” Sabra’s gaze switched to Learta.
Cormac took Learta’s gloved hand in his. “I never
expected to love again, Sabra. Apart from you, nothing mattered to me except
the safety of my pack. Then Darcus came and nearly killed us. I was left for
dead, as were you. But whereas the Daamens found you, Learta found me.” He
smiled down into Learta’s sky-blue eyes. “She saved me, and along the way she
somehow breathed life into a heart I’d truly believed was dead.” Raising her
hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Learta is now my life.
She’s a healer, traveling the Outlaw Sector to attend the neglected and
victims. I’m going to help her.”
“Don’t look so stunned, Sabra,” Shaque drawled.
“Cormac’s going as her protection.”
“I can’t believe you’re all taking this so calmly,”
she replied faintly.
“We’ve had two weeks to get used to it.”
“But what’ll you do?”
“Continue hunting. It’s our life.” He grinned
suddenly. “Not turning matchmaker on us, are you?”
“I just--Cormac, you’re retiring?”
Cormac looked at Sabra, and slowly she smiled. An
affectionate look passed between them. They understood each other.
“Mayhaps it should be a double wedding?” she
suggested.
“They’re my family--” she began, frowning.
“He’s right,” Cormac stated. “Some things can’t be
forgotten. There’s a history between we hunters and the Reeka warrior women
that will never be forgotten. No, Sabra. We’ll stay and see you wedded, then
we’ll leave for Otar, where you’ll attend my wedding to Learta.”
“We’ll be there,”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Sabra smiled.
Looking around the group, her pack, the only family
she’d known for long years, a lump lodged in her throat. Regardless of the
harsh life they’d lived, a lot of laughter had passed amongst them. They’d
cared for her, become her big brothers and protectors, and later her guides and
teachers. Tears filled her eyes.
“Ah, girl, don’t cry,” Abra said gruffly, pulling her
into his arms for another hug.
“We had good times. I’m going to miss you all so
much.”
“Don’t fret.” Shaque cleared his throat. “We’ll be
back in between missions to check up on you.”
“And undoubtedly we’ll have contact with you when it
comes to peacekeepers and such.” Ricna’s face brightened. “You’ll have inside
information on outlaws that you can pass onto us.”
A thoughtful look entered Sabra’s eyes.
“Of course it is.” Sabra grinned, wiping her eyes. “In
a way.”
He groaned.
“Get used to it,” Abra advised him.
Epilogue
“You did a good job today.” Uleah watched the outlaws
being taken to the holding cells.
Sabra shrugged. “Wasn’t hard.” Picking up an apple,
she took a bite from it.
“Hard enough. As usual, you were right in the thick of
it.”
“Hey, that idiotic peacekeeper needed a hand.”
The watcher in the shadows smiled. So, her attitude
hadn’t changed. It never would.
His hungry gaze swept over the security officer. Covered
in dust from head to toe, jacket torn and hanging open, and the laser holstered
at her hip, she still managed to look beautiful.
“Did you have to call the peacekeeper an idiot in
front of his men?”
“You mean before or after we pulled him from the
rubble the outlaws left him in?” Sabra grinned at the memory.
You would find that amusing. I wonder if you’ll find
amusing what I have in mind for you? Impatient,
the watcher shifted slightly.
Uleah shook his head. “Go and clean up, Sabra. Have a
good rest before you return home.”
“Aye. Wouldn’t do for
“He’s picky when it comes to anything about you,”
Uleah returned. “He’s probably back on Daamen already, watching the skies for your
return from here.”
“He could have just come to the IPS.” Sabra yawned and
stretched. “I’ll see you next week?”
“The meeting with Meekta and the council members.
Right. This time, though, I’ll do the talking.”
“Oh, come on, Uleah. Didn’t I do a good job last
time?”
“Last time, he nearly had us both thrown out of the
room!”
So, the security officer was stirring up the
Intergalactic Peace Council. No surprise there. But I want you alone, Sabra. I
have something for you. The watcher’s
eyes closed briefly, his hand going into his pocket to caress the small cold
object within it. Just for you.
“We still got we wanted, and because of that we
stopped this security breach, didn’t we? He’ll be grateful, don’t worry.”
“Eating humble pie, you mean. Sabra, you have some
nerve.”
“Come on, you love it when I cross words with the
Council. We’ve gotten more out of them since I’ve helped with negotiations.”
Uleah laughed. “Very well, I admit it. But I’m still
taking charge of the next meeting. There’s only so much of you I can release
onto the council in a certain time period.”
“Spoilsport. Guess I’ll just have to go home and await
my lord and master’s return from his latest trading trip.”
Lord and master. It sounded good. The watcher’s eyes gleamed.
“Lord and master?” The security chief snorted in
amusement. “He lets you get away with murder, Sabra. If he knew half of what
you get up to--”
“Never mind that.” Sabra tossed the apple core into
the bin. “Well, I’m going to my suite to clean up before heading home to
Daamen. I need to get there before the lord and master, and play the obedient
little wife.”
Uleah laughed all the way out the door.
Silently the watcher followed Sabra, keeping to the
shadows. The corridors were deserted, for the night was late and everyone was
in bed. Except for those who’d just returned from the security breach in an
outlying planet. You caught the traitors, Sabra--your genius and methodical
planning and hunting technique. Once again you’ve proven to the Council and
everyone else how valuable you are to the Peace Council. But you don’t need to
prove anything. They know. They’ll always know. Just as I know everything you
get up to, contrary to your belief.
The watcher waited several minutes after the door had
slid quietly shut behind Sabra, then entered the suite of rooms set aside for
her private use while aboard the Intergalactic Peace Ship.
Stealthily he walked the hallway, pausing beside an
open door to glance inside curiously. A bedroom. How appropriate.
He had plans for that bed after, with a certain security officer who was
much too bold for her own good. He liked that in her.
The sounds of running water came through a closed door
at the end of the hall, and he strode across to it, laying his ear against the
wooden panel. She was in the shower. He could picture her, the water running
over her luscious body, trickling into the hidden crevices he ached to touch.
She was his. Had always been his. Would always be his. He’d brand her with his
touch again and again.
The watcher touched the door lightly and it slid open.
Stepping inside, he looked towards the glass shower screen and could see her
body clearly. She had her back to him. God, he could feel his hands tremble
with the need to touch her, to trace that rounded bottom and those breasts he
knew so well. It had been so long. Too long. She was his and he was here to
claim her again.
The ache in his loins intensified, his staff hot and
hard at just the thought. Quickly he pulled his boots off and divested himself
of his clothes, careful to be quiet the whole time. This time she wouldn’t
be prepared for him. This time he’d catch her by surprise. This time he’d be
the winner.
Crossing to the shower stall, he slid open the door
and stepped inside it. Immediately the warm water hit him, flowing over his shoulders.
The fragrant scent of the soap she used filled his nostrils and he breathed
deep. Then he reached for her.
His hands hadn’t touched her shoulders before Sabra
laughingly asked, “What took you so long?” Turning around to look up at him,
she grinned widely. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you skulking in the shadows
like some desperate beast.”
“Desperate beast?”
She glanced pointedly down at his erect manhood then
back up into his face, one brow raised.
“All right, I’m desperate.” Grinning, he gathered her
into his arms, ignoring the water that drenched his hair. “And I’m a ravenous
beast in the bed.”
“Not just in the bed,” Sabra returned. “The kitchen
table, the bath, the sofa--hell, even in the control cabin of the trading ship!”
He smirked down at her. “As your lord and master, I
have every right to take you wherever and whenever I wish.”
“Heard that little comment, did you?”
“You’re laughing at me. You shouldn’t laugh at your
lord and master. It’s not respectful.”
She batted her lashes at him. “Can’t I replace respect
with lust?”
“Saucy wench.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, and his gaze became serious. “I can never get
enough of you, lass, even after two years of being wed. It’s been so long since
I’ve been with you.”
“You’ve only been gone two weeks.” She shivered in
delight as his tongue rasped at the corner of her mouth.
“Two weeks too long.” Tangling his fingers in her wet
locks, he bent her head to the side to fasten his lips on the side of her
throat and suck gently.
Her knees went weak and immediately she felt his arm
around her back tighten, supporting her with ease. He was making his mark on
her, something he did every time he returned from a trip away. It made her
blush when her cousin and Daamen friends saw it and grinned knowingly. Even
those she wasn’t close to would grin knowingly! But she loved it. Loved it
when he touched her, marked her, claimed her as his. Time and time again.
“I missed you so much,” he breathed against her lips,
just before claiming her mouth.
As he always did, time after time. The marking, then
the loving.
~ * ~
“All right, now we can add the shower to your list of
lovemaking places.” Sabra idly twirled a damp curl around her finger.
Lifting his head from where he had it pillowed on her
breast,
“Hopefully they won’t result in lying on wet sheets.”
“They weren’t wet until you dragged me from that
heated session in the shower, and made me do it again on the bed before I could
dry myself.”
“Oh aye, ‘tis my fault,” she said dryly.
“Aye. After all, it couldn’t be your lord and master’s
fault.”
She pulled on the inky curl.
“Listen, lass, if you don’t behave yourself, I won’t
give you your present.”
“I thought I had my present--twice already. Are you
ready for more?”
“Get that hopeful look off your face.” Rolling off
her,
Settling back against the pillows, Sabra watched his
bare backside with appreciation. The man had tight buttocks that were a delight
to caress. They also flexed tautly beneath her hands when he thrust into her...
Smiling, Sabra stretched luxuriously and waited.
Entering the cabin once more,
“What is it?” Sabra picked the small packet out of his
palm.
“Open it and see.”
Carefully she unwrapped the paper to reveal a tiny
gold lycat pin.
“Oh
“I remember you saying so, back on Comll two years
ago. Do you remember?”
“Aye. The merchant’s stall. Did you go back for it?”
“I saw it there last week and remembered how you
looked at it, how it reminded you of your mother’s pin.”
“Oh
“Nothing needs to be said. The expression on your face
is more than enough.”
“You’re such an angel sometimes.”
“I thought I was your lord and master?”
“You’re not going to forget that, are you?” Sabra
smiled up at him.
“No way.” Dropping back onto the bed,
“Hmm, this position isn’t exactly subservient,
master.” She wriggled slightly, her nipples grazing his massive pectorals.
His loins tightened. “Easy lass, or you’ll find
yourself flat on your back instead.”
“Who says you’re in charge?” Pushing herself upright,
she straddled his thighs and eyed him thoughtfully.
“Oh-ho!” He came up onto his elbows and eyed her back
with interest. “Do I hear the security officer speaking now?”
“Like the security officer, do you?” Placing one hand
in the middle of his chest, Sabra raked her nails lightly across the swells of
muscle.
“Holds possibilities.”
“Is that right?”
“Finds her man and--” he winked, “holds on.”
“Like a demonstration, would you?’ She grinned at him.
“Wench, you’re looking decidedly wicked. What do you
have in mind for this poor trader?”
Leaning forward, Sabra braced herself above him on her
outstretched arms. Gazing deep into his eyes, she whispered, “For you, my
husband, I have everything.”
Meet Angela Verdenius
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