Despite her attempt to keep herself iced, anticipation kept bubbling up and making her grin at the stupidest things, like the bright mid-afternoon summer sun streaming in through high, clerestory windows, or a small cleaning bot in the fresher.
Once her gravcart of luggage, her identification, and her person passed inspection, all she had to do was find the most handsome man on the planet. Fortunately, he’d pinged her with his location in the military section.
The easy part of her life after Tauceti left had been finishing her restitution. Lambru’s sudden departure shattered his organization. After the cats left, she didn’t have to worry about them being discovered. As a parting gift, they told her where Lambru had hidden his illegal chems laboratory. She told Calderosh, who got a company bonus for reporting it.
Ferra got bonuses for catching up on all the minor tech repairs. They went a lot faster when she could just rip out the surveillance tech instead of dancing around it. As a goodwill gesture, she made sure some of the better equipment ended up in Calderosh’s parts lockers instead of the recycling bins.
The hard part had been going home. Her brother hadn’t just sold her to pay his debts, he’d sold everything of hers he could get his hands on, including her flat and her flitter. He’d even gone to the trouble of declaring her dead for the insurance payout. It hadn’t done him any good. He’d met with a very messy, very public fatal accident three weeks after she’d arrived at Argint d’Apa.
She spent five days in a luxury hotel, pampering herself while she tied up loose ends. Last time, she’d left in panic, only knowing what she didn’t want. This time, she knew what she wanted and hoped for, and took the time to set things in motion for the next phase of her life.
Her stomach fluttered as she stepped into the space station’s military lobby, suddenly worried that maybe Kedron couldn’t make it, or had changed his mind. Exchanging dozens of messages and a couple of expensive realtime vid calls wasn’t the same as seeing him in person.
Relief flooded her when she saw him striding purposefully toward her. His relaxed, confident smile made her grin like a fool, but she didn’t care. He wore civilian clothes, but he still looked like a hero to her.
He waved his arm wide. “Welcome to Suck Flux, RSI.”
She laughed. “I’m very glad to be here.” She stepped in a little closer. “Would it be all right if I hugged you?”
He opened his arms. She wrapped him in a tight, fierce embrace, then let him go, or she’d never stop. He smelled good and felt better. She’d been dreaming of that and more for four months, eight days, and sixteen hours. Not that she had been running a countdown clock or anything.
He looked at the gravcart behind her. “Where’s the rest of your stuff? I brought the biggest flitter in the transportation pool, just in case.”
She shrugged. “That’s it. I’ll tell you about it tonight. We’re still on for dinner?”
“Yeah, about that. All the good restaurants are booked, so I hope you don’t mind eating at my place.” He pointed toward an exit. “This way.”
He offered to take her backpack, and she let him, even though the gravcart had room.
“You have a place?” She couldn’t resist teasing him a little. He’d admitted to not having lived off base for his entire military career.
“Yeah, the base is short on command-level housing. I pointed out the policy that said base leadership shouldn’t be clustered together, and volunteered for off-base quarters.” The twinkle in his eye belied his serious expression.
She smiled. “It wouldn’t happen to be a brand new policy, would it?”
He laughed, a sound she loved to hear. “No, it’s an old policy, just not used very often.”
His place turned out to be an isolated, ranch-style quick-formed house that backed up to a marshy eco-preserve. He’d chosen it because he’d kept the cats.
Her reunion with them was every bit as joyous as she’d imagined. Even reserved Novo was all over her, sending love and jumbled thoughts, and purring loud enough to wake the neighbors, if they’d had any. Boz tried to nuzzle inside her shirt like he was a kitten rather than a stealthy, lethal weapon of war.
“Did have trouble keeping Novo and Boz?” The Ground Division military manual she’d read during the interstellar flight to Merganukhan had been very adamant about not allowing personal pets in military quarters.
Kedron took off his boots and put them on the dry mat by the front door. “I couldn’t find a boarding facility I trusted, so I rented a tiny apartment for them until I got approved for off-base housing.” He twitched a smile as he brushed cat fur off his pant leg. “My coworkers assumed I was overnighting with a lover who has pets.”
Ferra laughed. “You should have heard Calderosh complain about cat fur in Argint d’Apa’s air ducts.” Boz nuzzled her hair. “You’d like her, I think. The only reason she pulled that beamer on us in the flitter was because she thought we were working with Lambru. She’s funny and surprisingly ethical. She only sells financial-related data, and won’t deal in personal relationship information at all.”
He sat cross-legged on the floor with her. “Dinner will be takeout from the base mess hall, but it’s good.” He pointed toward the front of the house, where the big military flitter sat waiting outside. “Why so little stuff?” He looked down at his splayed hand on his thigh. “Not staying?”
Nudging Boz away, she slid closer to Kedron. She slipped her hand into his. “I’m staying.” She squeezed his hand gently, then waited until he met her gaze. “I really like you a lot. I’ve been dreaming about this day, but I want to take the time to do it right, at a pace that works for you. You’re worth it.”
He squeezed her hand. “I like you a lot, too. You and the cats are a good influence on me. I never lived with pets before, and now I can’t imagine living without them. They remind me not to withdraw into my shell. You make me not want to.”
His words touched her. “To answer your question, I don’t have much stuff because I’m starting a new life.” She explained what her brother had done.
With the love from the cats thrumming in her mind—and holding hands with the man she was falling for so fast she felt like she’d jumped off a cliff—she finally realized her brother had never loved her the way she’d loved him. Move on, Barray.
Novo crawled into her lap and curled up. “The financial industry is high risk for me. I don’t ever want to be a target like that again. I liquidated all the accounts my brother couldn’t find and left my old life for good. I’m keeping my new identity and starting a new career.”
He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “In what?”
“Veterinary medicine. I’m studying for a basic vet med certification now and plan to sign on with a local clinic to get hands-on experience.” She hoped to find someone who could help her learn to use her minder talent, too. She didn’t want to keep it secret from Kedron, but first, she needed to research military policy on whether he’d have to report it if she told him.
“I’ll ask around for recommendations, if you’d like.” He smiled. “It’s a good excuse to talk to people, instead of just issuing orders.”
“Yes, please. I’d like to stay near the base. Near you, if you’re alright with that. You make me feel safe.” She looked around in the open living space, where the decor leaned heavily toward climbable sculpture and high padded shelves. “Can the cats stay here while I look for someplace to live?”
Kedron took in a deep breath and let it out quickly. “I’d kind of hoped you’d want to stay here. I haven’t taken you on the tour yet, but the house is divided for two. There’s a separate kitchen and—”
“Yes.” She couldn’t keep the joyous grin off her face. “I’ll take it. I don’t care how much you want in rent. I’ll take it.”
“I don’t need the money. I need you.” His vulnerable, serious look melted her heart.
“Could I kiss you?” she asked. “If it’s too soon, just say—”
“Yes
,” he said.
He shared with her the sweetest kiss she’d ever had, with the promise of a bright future.
Novo rubbed her head contentedly on Ferra’s arm. You should mate with him. He is warm at night and good at petting.
Ferra smiled. Working on it.
* * *
* * *
Thank you for reading Cats of War, and I hope you enjoyed how Kedron and Ferra stopped hiding from their pasts to help two lost and lonely—but superior—cats. Or did the cats help them?
If this is the first story you’ve read in the Central Galactic Concordance space opera universe, there’s a whole series of more books to read. The big damn story arc starts with OVERLOAD FLUX and MINDER RISING.
If you love pets, check out the standalone novella PET TRADE. Both it and Cats of War first appeared in Pets in Space. The limited edition anthologies benefit the very worthy Hero-Dogs.org, a charity that pairs trained dogs with a lifetime of service with disabled veterans and first responders.
If paranormal romance is your catnip, look for SHIFTER MATE MAGIC, the first book in my magical, smokin’ hot Ice Age Shifters series.
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Turn the page for a free excerpt from Overload Flux, Central Galactic Concordance Book 1.
Free Excerpt from Overload Flux, Central Galactic Concordance Book 1
* Planet: Rekoria * GDAT 3237.026 *
Their footsteps echoed in an empty corridor of Rekoria’s planetary spaceport. Mairwen Morganthur caught herself touching the outside of her coat pocket that held the wirekey, and ruthlessly controlled herself to keep her uneasiness at bay. Though neither man she accompanied down the tall, wide corridor had said so, she had the feeling they didn’t want to be discovered doing whatever it was they were about to do.
Motion-sensor lighting triggered as they approached each segment. At ninety-four minutes before midnight, the noisy passenger area of the spaceport had been as busy as ever, but the commercial shipping section where they now walked was deserted. Trending galactic headlines and bright vids flashed silently on the continuous overhead displays along the corridors, creating constantly changing lights and shadows. It could have been worse; in the passenger section, the animated displays took up entire walls.
She walked two paces behind the two men, like any average, incurious security guard, and kept her expression blank. Her company uniform and long topcoat passed as conservative corporate wear at a casual glance. As long as no one noticed her heavy boots, she wasn’t likely to draw unwanted attention to their group.
Personal security detail wasn’t her usual assignment. While she did usually work nights, it was mostly as a solo guard or security systems monitor at large industrial complexes in marginal sections of town. This was supposed to be her night off.
She hoped the only reason she’d been chosen for tonight’s activities was because she was a name on a La Plata Security Division “night-shift available” list of dozens, and not because she’d stood out in some way. She’d been careful to stay unremarkable. This was the first time in months she’d allowed herself to open her extraordinary senses even a little, noting and cataloging the distant sounds of automation and the stale scents of people. She shouldn’t be doing it now, but the increasing tension of the two men she was accompanying was contagious.
The older man, Velasco, about her height, was entertained by the flashy wall displays in a variety of languages, and softly repeated the words that caught his attention. He again switched the padded strap of the large forensic kit he was carrying to his other shoulder. Lukasz Foxe, taller than Velasco by a dozen centimeters, stood straighter and carried two bags slung over his right shoulder, a smaller hardcase and a larger curved bag, and had a winter greatcoat over his left arm. He was leaner and clearly in better shape than Velasco. So far, Foxe hadn’t said much.
When she’d received her orders from dispatch to check out a company vehicle, pick up the wirekey and a forensic kit for Foxe from the office, then pick up Velasco from a restaurant and take him to the spaceport, she had assumed she would then remain with the company vehicle while Velasco did… whatever it was he was here to do. Instead, for reasons unknown to her, Velasco had told her to come with him to collect Foxe from the gate of an incoming interstellar ship. The need for her presence certainly wasn’t for her company or conversation, because once they’d entered the brightly lit spaceport, Velasco had all but ignored her. She was relieved. From what she remembered from meeting him once at a company event, he had nothing worth saying.
She’d never met Foxe before tonight. Dispatch’s orders had included his company photo, which didn’t do him justice. Even though he was obviously tired, he was handsome, with light brown skin and wide, angular cheekbones, and wore his casual business clothes with more style than Velasco’s ultra-trendy but unflattering suit.
She was already familiar with Lukasz Foxe’s name. She’d memorized most of the Investigation Division’s investigator names and titles so she’d know whom to avoid. She didn’t want the possible attention that came from being in the orbit of a blue-hot company star. She didn’t know what a High Court-certified forensic reconstruction specialist did, but she had the feeling she was about to find out.
She hadn’t quite figured out what Velasco’s role was. From something he’d said in the first burst of jabbering he’d subjected her to as she drove him to the spaceport, he was with the Security Division of La Plata, but assigned to Investigation. She’d mostly tuned him out for the rest of the trip, choosing instead to focus on traffic, which wasn’t well automated, day or night. Etonver city drivers were allowed to disable vehicle autopilots, and mostly did, making for bad ground traffic, twenty-five hours a day.
The spaceport corridor split, and they turned toward the section with commercial interior warehouses. When they rounded a corner to the left, Velasco pointed halfway down the hall to a large cargo bay door of opaque flexglass. The logo said “Centaurus Transport” in huge letters. A smaller, human-sized door farther down to the left had the same logo. The two men stopped in front of the bay entryway, and Foxe looked to Velasco.
“Anything from the Port Police?”
One of the benefits of working for a security company was official access codes for police bands. Foxe’s first order after arriving had been to tell Velasco to monitor the frequency from his percomp. It had been Mairwen’s first clue they were expecting trouble.
Velasco activated the company-issued percomp he wore strapped to his wrist. It was a more recent model than hers; night shift tended to get refurbished leftovers. Tech Division had been nagging her to surrender her clunky hardware for an update.
“Nothing,” Velasco said after a moment. Mairwen got the impression he hadn’t been paying attention to it until asked. Fortunately, his assessment was accurate. Even though she hadn’t been ordered to do so, she’d been monitoring the same frequency via live audio sent to the earwire adhered to her jawline, and had heard only two routine communications in the last eleven minutes.
Mairwen was becoming increasingly resentful at being kept off the net as far as what she was being dragged into. She had no idea why investigators from her company were going to the warehouse office or what they expected to find, other than something that would need a forensic kit. Meaning it was more than a simple slice by interstellar jackers or some ground-based theft crew. But she couldn’t ask without drawing unwanted attention to herself, so she stayed quiet. It was one of the few times she’d ever wished she was a telepath. Most telepaths she’d ever met were under the thumb of the Citizen Protection Service, and she knew the steep price of that all too well.
The door frames of the transport company entryways had visible security monitoring devices in the form of flat camera eyes that looked glossy and new. She angled he
rself away from them, not knowing their peripheral range. If they were like the industrial versions she was familiar with, they’d only be triggered when the doors opened, but better safe than sorry. She considered whether or not a simple security guard would notice the cameras or think to point them out. Probably not, she decided.
Foxe checked the elegant, transparent percomp he wore on the back of his hand. “Still no pings.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his dark, wavy hair, making it look even more unruly than it already did.
“Let’s go in.” He didn’t look happy to be there. Mairwen sympathized.
Velasco held out his hand toward her expectantly, and Mairwen slipped the wirekey from her pocket and gave it to him. As he fumbled with the lock on the smaller door, she took a couple of steps back from both men and the camera eyes, toward the center of the corridor. She opened her senses wider to check that they were still alone.
Sounds came from the electric hum of lights, the pulse of the air circulators, and the whine of automated grav sleds. Somewhere inside the warehouse, a loose vent rattled intermittently. There were scents of lubricant, petroplastic, paper dust, and humans, mostly hours and days old except for the strong new scents of Velasco and Foxe. Velasco smelled of too many cosmetics, synthetic fabric, fruity alcohol, and meat, probably steak.
Foxe smelled of wool from his coat and a natural buttery, subtle exotic wood scent that was incongruous in a spaceport. Velasco’s scent was boring, but Foxe’s was… interesting, almost intense. She caught herself just in time from stepping closer to breathe in more of it. Very bad idea, her cautious brain told her.
Velasco couldn’t get the wirekey to work on the small door, so he tried the cargo bay door. It lifted swiftly and quietly.
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