Nightchaser

by Amanda Bouchet

Self-chiding wasn’t very effective, but it was a start. A modicum of effort on my part to stay reasonable and on track. I would be leaving soon, and mine were ridiculous thoughts.

  Shade nodded for me to start. “Show me some of what you’ve got, and then we’ll take it from there.”

  A giddy fizz of emotions effervesced inside me again. I couldn’t help stupidly loving any interaction with Shade, even though physically, I still felt like a slug. I did my best to put on a good show and started circling him, looking for an opening. He kept his guard up, watching me. I threw the first punch, and Shade dodged. I tried again.

  “You’re transparent as hell. Try not to turn into the punch three hours before you throw it,” he said.

  “Three hours?” I grumbled, circling again.

  He winked. “Just a tip, sugar.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  He moved in, and I danced back. His first punch was so half-assed that I easily stopped it with my glove. A few seconds later, I aimed a kick at his ribs. His hand swept down to block my foot, and his solid forearm sent me hopping back, off-balance.

  Shade arched his brows.

  Shit. I was making a fool of myself.

  He came at me again like he almost meant it, throwing a punch that had me rearing back. I got out of the way in time, and his hit didn’t connect, although I was starting to wonder if he would have let it. Even so, the next thing I knew, my butt hit the mat. Impact jarred a grunt out of me. I’d fallen over, and Shade hadn’t even touched me.

  “Tess?” He looked down at me, his eyebrows drawing into a frown.

  I blinked. There were two of him. I blinked again. Okay—one.

  I decided to admit the truth. “I may not be up for this tonight.”

  He scowled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I…” I was too tired to think up a good lie. “I gave blood before coming here. I may have given too much.”

  “How much?” he asked.

  “Five bags.”

  “Five bags!” Shade exploded toward me, dropping to his knees on the mat. “Are you crazy?” He tore off his gloves and then picked me up. I looped my arms around his neck as the room tilted. He carried me like I was small—and I was not. I closed my eyes, willing the spinning to stop.

  He walked a few steps and then shifted his hold on me. I heard him jiggle a door handle. When I opened my eyes again, he was taking me down a softly lit corridor. I caught flashes of other rooms, but then he turned right, and I found myself being set down on a bed. His bed, I supposed. It was nice. Soft. The bedding was dark brown and slightly textured under my hands and bare feet.

  I took stock of the room, which was pretty empty. I could smell Shade in here—or rather the soap he used. There was something fresh about it, like a forest, or the outdoors. I wasn’t quite sure. I didn’t know much about that.

  I smoothed my foot over the comforter, liking its velvety feel. The bed wasn’t huge, but it seemed just right for two people. I’d wanted to get here, though not exactly like this.

  I glanced up at Shade. The only light we had came through the open door, and his expression looked dark and almost dangerous in the dimness. He leaned over me, and I sat there as he pulled off my gloves, freeing one hand and then the other with a muttered curse. Straightening away from me, he threw the pair of gloves across the room like he was pretty pissed off.

  “One bag. You give one—if you give at all. Who would take that much? Where the fuck did you go? Some black-market clinic?” He scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaling loudly. “Shit. You’re not selling your insides to pay for my repairs, are you?”

  I went for levity, because he looked really upset. “This seems like a rich city. I’m sure I’ll get a good price for that kidney.”

  His eyes flared. “That’s not funny.”

  I shrugged. “Neither is needing a kidney.” They were really slow to grow in a petri dish.

  His jaw visibly flexed. Forcing exaggerated evenness, he asked, “Can you please explain to me why you gave up so much blood?”

  I chose to level with him. Mostly. What could it hurt? “There’s disease on Starway 8. I thought they might need blood. Sometimes, transfusions help. You know, out with the old, in with the new. It could be good.”

  Shade didn’t look convinced. In fact, the way he looked at me made my stomach knot all up—and not in a good way this time.

  “Let me get this straight. You drained yourself of blood to send it off to orphans? Just in case?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re a fucking lunatic, Tess.”

  People kept saying that! I bristled. “I weigh every move I make, Shade. Don’t think that I don’t.” That also meant my decision to be here tonight, alone with him, and I was pretty sure he understood.

  Unfortunately, I’d just demonstrated that I wasn’t up for even some good-natured sparring. He probably assumed I wasn’t up for anything else, either.

  Shade’s hands moved to his hips. He took a deep breath and then ground out, “Stay here.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked out the door, leaving me alone in his darkened bedroom.

  * * *

  Five bags of blood. Shade wanted to punch something.

  Thank the Sky Mother typical bags were smaller than they used to be, or she’d be dead. Tess had still probably lost twenty percent of her overall blood volume, and that was way too much. Reaching dangerous levels.

  What the hell had she been thinking? And then she’d come over to his place to duke it out on the mats? He’d thrown punches at her, for fuck’s sake.

  While he was at it, what the hell was he thinking? He still didn’t know if his aim tonight had been to ascertain how to best bring in Tess without hurting her, or to reassure himself that she knew how to fight off whatever hunter came for her first. And then the next hunter. And then the next. Everything was so fucked up. He was a fucking mess.

  In a rage he couldn’t quite contain, Shade banged around his kitchen. Luckily, he’d held back. A lot. He hadn’t wanted to get rough with her. He’d just wanted to see what she could take.

  “What’ve you eaten tonight?” he shouted toward the open door down the hallway.

  A moment later, Tess’s answer floated back. “Water. Steak. Some nuts and green stuff.”

  He made a face. Nuts? With steak and salad? At least she had her proteins covered.

  He grabbed his bag of trigrain bread. Now he needed to get her blood sugar up.

  While the bread toasted, he squeezed some orange juice, getting some aggression out on the ancient contraption he’d picked up a few years ago. He usually only brought out the prehistoric juicer in the mornings, but he thought Tess might like it. The end result tasted like sunshine in a glass.

  He slammed the pump down hard, mashing the fuck out of the half-rounds of fruit he’d just cut. It felt good to pound on something, and fresh juice might give her some energy back.

  The toast popped. He used three times as much butter as he would have wanted for himself, sprinkled a heavy layer of cinnamon sugar onto the bread, and then went back to the bedroom, carrying a tray with the toast and orange juice on it.

  Tess was right where he’d left her, propped up like a nearly six-foot-tall, pale-as-fuck queen against his pillows. They were the same color as her hair. They looked like just plain brown at first, but then you saw the russet.

  It was weird seeing her there. He’d never brought a woman downstairs before. No one but him ever went beyond the shop.

  He set the tray on her lap. What a great place to start—with a wanted criminal in his bed.

  His scowl felt etched into his face. Incredible woman he liked and desired. Bed. It was usually pretty obvious what to do with that, but he had no idea what to do with Tess.

  The arrow of guilt that speared him reminded him that h
e’d already done way too much, since he still wanted that money as much as he wanted Tess.

  Fucking rebels. How many times had he wondered what it was like? Chasing the night. Not living by the rules. Not crunching numbers, or worrying about infrastructure he had no right to touch, or thinking about employees that weren’t even his. Kissing Tess was like living a different life.

  But he’d never wanted that different life enough to abandon the docks his family had built from the ground up. He’d worked his ass off, and he wanted them back.

  Tess finally looked up from the tray she’d been staring at. Her blue eyes looked darker than usual in the low light. She glanced from him to the food and then back to him again. “You made me cinnamon toast?”

  “And fresh-squeezed orange juice. Eat up.”

  She blinked a few times, and Shade thought maybe he’d been too gruff. “Here. I’ll prove it’s not poisoned.” He took a big gulp from her full glass.

  “Hey!” Tess snatched the juice away from him, smiling now. “That’s mine.”

  She drank and then groaned low in her throat. The satisfied sound shot straight to his groin.

  Shade shifted back from her. Not appropriate. The woman could barely stand up.

  Among other reasons…

  “That tastes amazing.” She devoured the toast, making a noise that was practically orgasmic when she licked the sugar off her fingertips.

  Was she trying to kill him?

  Glancing away, Shade swiped a hand through his hair. He heard her finish off her juice.

  She sighed. “I love landing because the food is so good. Up there, in the Dark, the fresh stuff runs out fast, and then it’s just the same old canned slop over and over again until you want to throw up.”

  Steeling himself, Shade turned back to her. She was still just as beautiful. A light smattering of freckles across her nose, the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, hair all over the place.

  “Why do you stay so long in the Dark?” he asked.

  She acted like she was thinking about it, but he knew she was just coming up with a lie.

  “Because everyone wants me dead.”

  Shade started. Honesty? That was a surprise. “Everyone?”

  She shrugged. “Well, no, not everyone. But some very powerful people do, and that trickles down to even the lowest goon in the galaxy. And the Powers know, the Dark Watch is all over the place.”

  “Do you need help?” He nearly bit his tongue. Had he really just asked her that? He didn’t want to be an even bigger bastard where Tess was concerned, but he was going that way fast.

  She shook her head. “You’re fixing the Endeavor for a fair price. That’s already huge in my book.”

  Shade lifted the tray from her lap and set it on the bedside table. “Why are they after you?” he asked.

  She laughed. “I’m not telling you that!”

  “Why not?” He sat on the edge of the bed.

  She huffed, tucking her hair behind her ears like she always did. Earlier, he’d wanted to push it all back himself and see her face.

  “To begin with, it’s a long list,” she said.

  “How long?” He was being pushy, but that seemed to put her at ease. She probably figured a person who was a danger to her wouldn’t just outright ask questions like this. They’d use tactics and finesse. Or else brute force.

  Shade tried to ignore the sickening fact that Tess seemed to trust him. He was to blame for that.

  She bent her knees and tucked her legs up under her. The movement brought them closer together. “You know when it’s do or die, Shade?”

  Her eyes drew him in, and the sound of his name on her lips was like a drug. He inched closer, letting the 12-perfect diction of every word she said wash over him, even though it was toxic to them both.

  “And you do things anyway,” she continued. “Maybe mess up your whole life, because you know it’s the right thing to do. You just know what you have to do, or you could never live with yourself again.”

  He nodded. He’d never had that feeling himself, but he was mesmerized by her conviction. And a little ill. Even as he listened to her, he was still thinking about taking her in. She was weak and alone, sitting right here in his basement with him. In mere seconds, he could have her tied up and completely at his mercy. Two hundred million. Maybe more. His money. His new life—or the life he should have been living already. Scarabin White—paid off and out of his future for good.

  Tess was obviously a resistance fighter to the core. He’d already brought in dozens. He could bring in dozens more. But she’d just said they wanted her dead, and the problem was that he didn’t want anyone touching a hair on her head.

  “Shade?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, baby?”

  She glanced down. When she looked back up, her lips were slightly parted, and a pretty flush colored her cheeks.

  Shit. He was so fucked.

  “Do you give nicknames to everyone?” she asked.

  He forced a smile. “Ah, you like sugar, do you?”

  Her mouth twitched. “No, actually. I don’t.”

  “Princess, then?”

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Starshine?”

  She blushed again. So that one worked.

  “What do you like, baby?” he asked in a voice that unintentionally dropped.

  She bit her lip, looking shy and uncertain, even though he knew she could lose her inhibitions quickly and kiss like a wildcat. “The last two are all right.”

  “Noted,” Shade said with enough seriousness to make her smile again.

  They fell into a silence that wasn’t awkward but wasn’t exactly comfortable, either. There was too much tension between them for that—tension he was dying to release if the pressure inside him was any indication.

  As they sat there on his bed in the dimly lit room, in the quiet, Shade finally truly understood what a huge problem he had. He’d already known, but yeah… Every second he spent with Tess made it a thousand times worse. It was do or die, just like she’d said. Or more like do or don’t.

  He had to make a choice.

  Her hand crept onto his leg. “I’m feeling a lot stronger now.” She stroked up his thigh. “Much better,” she said.

  Every nerve inside him jumped to attention, and heat billowed through his chest. He wanted her more than he could remember wanting anyone. Hell, he could hardly remember anyone else at all with Tess looking at him the way she did, with that weird mix of hesitancy and up-for-anythingness on her face. She was a fucking dream, and arousal roared through his blood.

  Shade grabbed her hand, stopping her increasingly bold explorations just before she hit where it would really count. He curled his fingers around hers. He knew he could be a selfish asshole sometimes, but there was no way in hell he’d sleep with a woman and then turn her over to the Dark Watch for a reward.

  Tess froze, waiting. It was his move.

  He hated his options. Even if he did what they both wanted and then let her fly away, she’d still be hunted by the others, and they were a bunch of vicious fucks. And if he satisfied this craving, she’d take off when her ship was done, leaving him, and then he’d be stuck facing another ten years of doing other people’s dirty work just to get back the property he’d so stupidly lost.

  If he turned her in, he could buy back every single docking tower on Albion 5 and its neighbor tomorrow. He’d run this place, just like his family always had. Just like he would have all along if he hadn’t fucked up that one night.

  Talk about paying for your mistakes. He was sick to death of it.

  Shade lifted Tess’s hand from his thigh. It was burning a hole through his pants. “If you’re feeling better, then it’s time to get you back to your ship.”

  Her face fell, and her disappointment crashed straight t
hrough him. She didn’t bother trying to hide anything from him anymore, which might have been the worst part of this whole twisted mess.

  He’d been clear in his rejection, though, so she pulled it together and got off his bed. Because that was what Tess Bailey did—she dealt.

  Chapter 17

  It was sheer embarrassing torture, but I forced myself out onto the platform in the morning to bring Shade his usual cup of coffee. He accepted it with thanks but then barely looked at me again. He was always a little off in the mornings, so maybe he was just being his habitual cranky self. Or maybe it was the fact that I’d thrown myself at him the night before, and he’d turned me down. My stomach still dropped at the thought of that.

  I climbed back on board the Endeavor without trying to make small talk with Shade, but then regretted missing our usual conversation time over coffee. He was interesting and intelligent, and he went down uncommon paths of discussion without looking horrified or making a fuss, which made talking to him one of the highlights of my day.

  But not today. His rejection was still too fresh, so I hid out in the kitchen with Miko and Shiori until lunch. Together, the three of us managed to generate the mother of all shopping lists, which I then uploaded to a local food and goods outlet that would deliver later in the day. I added a huge supply of cat food and some of that extra-special litter Susan had given me to the end of the list. We had Bonk to think about now.

  When the total came up, I nearly blanched. With everything I still had to pay Shade, that was the end of our money. It was time to start planning a new heist, one that had to be at least somewhat profitable to us as well as useful to our friends. One thing was for sure, though: I wouldn’t be selling my blood. Or a kidney. Or anything else.

  Through the internal com system, I sent out a call to lunch. Jax and Fiona arrived, completing our group for the trigrain noodles I’d made with sauce. I didn’t go outside to invite Shade in to eat with us. He could fend for himself.

  “Plain red sauce? Again?” Fiona looked at her plate as though I were asking her to eat worms in mud.

  “Sorry.” I shoved a fork in her direction. “It was all we had left without dipping into the food for the Outer Zones. New stuff is coming in later today.”