The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material)

by Nicole Grotepas

  She bit her lip, feeling the urge to toy with him. “Possibly.”

  “Careful, Holly. You know how much we need each other.”

  “Veiled threats turn me off.” She joined him at the window to look out at the city.

  “Not everything is about appeasing your desires, though, is it,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

  “Debatable.”

  6

  “The money for the last job.”

  Xadrian dropped a case on the coffee table at the center of the furniture arrangement in the Bird’s Nest, the crew's headquarters. The club was owned by Charly, and functioned as an unofficial central hub for the elite of the 6 Moons, who regularly scheduled parties and engagements that allowed them to parade their wealth and power in front of each other.

  The Bird's Nest was actually Charly's office, but she'd insisted on it becoming the headquarters back after their first job together. It allowed Charly to see what was going on via the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the club floor, and meant that she never had to give up her work to be there for Holly and the crew.

  “Xadrian. XT. Good to see you,” Holly said out of obligation. She didn’t hate seeing him, but saying she loved interacting with him was stretching it. She turned from staring down at the floor from the one-way windows.

  Darius eyed Xadrian suspiciously, then abandoned his desk to pick up the case. “Feels kind of light.”

  Xadrian looked the other man up and down. “Your opinion.”

  “Shall we count it?”

  “Unfortunately, I have other appointments. If you have an issue with the amount, please have your babysitter take it up with my employer.” Xadrian’s eyes flicked to Holly, then back to Darius. He ran a hand weighed down by rings through his spikey, blond hair.

  Holly watched the exchange and bit her knuckle, checking her laughter before it escaped.

  Darius dated men, but she wasn’t sure how Xadrian’s taste ran. His flamboyance and mannerisms meant nothing, except that he enjoyed the theatrics of putting on a show. How he’d once been a thief or con artist like Shiro and the rest of her crew, she wasn’t sure. Unless that was part of his repertoire of disguises—always appear to be on stage unless he was blending in.

  “Oh, I will. You can bet on it—I’ll sic my babysitter on you if you’ve ripped us off. The job pay has been getting a bit thin, Xadrian. We have bills to pay. Mouths to feed.”

  “I see. Yes, there are those things to consider. As well as the gambling debt to see to, and more gambling debt to add to it,” Xadrian responded. His slight lisp tended to take the edge off the insults he lobbed during verbal repartee.

  Darius cocked his head to one side and laughed. “If that’s supposed to pain me, think again.”

  “Yes, well, it’s been fun. Oh no, look at the time. I needed to be somewhere ten minutes ago. Enjoy dividing the money. Don’t spend it all in one place, unless you’re Darius and the dice are hot, in that case, spend it all in one grand loss.” Xadrian backed his way to the stairwell. “I’ll be in touch, HD. This isn’t the last you’ll see of me.” The man vanished into the stairwell, and his footsteps down the stairs receded.

  Holly exchanged a look with Darius. “Is it really lighter than normal?”

  “Would I lie, Drake?”

  “Depends. I think. I wouldn’t put it past you to lie when it’s convenient.”

  “Fair point. Well, this time it’s the truth.”

  Holly approached the table and opened the case. Stacks of glowing violet novas stared up at her.

  “You agreed on a price for the job, didn’t you?” Darius asked, sitting down beside her.

  “I always do. Scan it, count it—with your tool, please.”

  He went to his desk and brought back the sensor that would do just that.

  The reader beeped when it finished.

  “Sixty thousand novas. It is less,” Darius said, sitting back into the couch. “Is that what you agreed on?”

  She thought about it, scrunching up her brow as she recalled the deal that Xadrian had set up. “It was eighty. Maybe Xadrian is skimming some off the top. I’ll work it out. For now, I’ll take less for my share.”

  “Drake, we’ve been over this a hundred times. You take more. You bring in the jobs, the split should always be in your favor.”

  “That’s not how I run things.”

  “Maybe it’s your secret person—the benefactor. Maybe he’s paying less.”

  “Who said it’s a he?”

  “Er, I’m pretty certain you did, but I’m not recording our interactions. Maybe you didn’t.”

  Holly split the piles of novas into equal stacks, except for her own, which was half what she gave the others. The rest of the crew trickled in, which led to the discussion she’d already had with Darius, about Dave paying them less.

  Shiro stood by the brewing kasé machine, and leapt up to sit on the counter. “These jobs are getting too barebones. We need an influx of cash . . . and a lot of it, if we’re going to continue to moonlight as your friend’s dirty little secret.”

  Holly sighed. She wanted to tell them more money would come in, but that wasn’t true. The cash flow from Dave had been going south for a while now. She was afraid Shiro was right. If someone was going to look after them, it needed to be her. Or the crew as a group.

  “We all have side gigs, Holly, but time is not infinite. I have to agree with Shiro on this one.” Odeon held some kind of stringed instrument in his arms and softly strummed as he spoke.

  “I know, I know.”

  “Anyone heard of any jobs lately?” Charly asked.

  She stood at the small wardrobe she’d brought into the Bird’s Nest so that she didn’t have to leave to prep for the constant parties she put on for the elites of the city. The doors were thrown open as she studied the outfits, her fingers toying with her lips as she decided.

  “There’s always the vase job. We almost did it. It’s still there. Sitting to the side, shiny and tempting. The payout on that one could be very lucrative indeed,” Shiro said. “As much as I love the novas you’ve just given me, dear Holly—and thank you—this vase job would easily bring in one million novas.”

  “One million novas?” She arched an eyebrow of disbelief at Shiro.

  “One million?” Odeon echoed.

  “One freaking million,” Darius repeated.

  Charly laughed.

  “Yes, a mere one million,” Shiro confirmed, a half smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

  “Such a perfectly round figure, I’m having trouble believing it,” Darius said.

  “Yes, it is suspiciously right on the nose.”

  “It’s an estimate, friends, to be sure, but I do think that would be the market value on the item. I know three buyers vying for it,” Shiro said.

  The brewer finished, and he hopped down and began pouring a two-bulbed mug of kasé.

  “Anyone else?” He lifted the carafe toward Charly, then the others, who were still seated around the coffee table arrangement.

  The bittersweet fragrance wafted through the room. Holly realized she hadn’t eaten much so far, aside from the imperial ale earlier in the afternoon.

  “I’ll have a mug, please,” she said. “Explain the job, Shiro. Let’s discuss it, decide if it’s something we want to get mixed up in.”

  “Brilliant,” he said as he fished another mug out of the nearby cabinet.

  Holly stood and joined him at the station as he poured the white brew into a mug for her.

  "Thanks for the brew, Shiro," she said.

  There was also a pile of pastries on the counter. Holly picked up a croissant and took a bite. She would need to thank Charly for the spread later.

  Shiro continued with his explanation, glancing at Holly as he fixed up his own drink. “This gig would be to lift a valuable piece of pottery from the private collection of a noted, wealthy Constellation.”

  “A wealthy Constie?” Darius asked. “There are only so many. Who
is it?”

  “Menakil Mapsoom,” Shiro said, putting the carafe down. He turned to glance at Darius. “Do you know her?”

  “She was included in the circle of friends that my mothers kept,” Darius said. He'd been raised by two female Constellations, so a connection to Menakil wasn't exactly a surprising revelation. “So no, I do not know her, but I know of her.”

  “Well,” Shiro said, dropping his hands to his sides as though he was about to accept defeat. “Does that mean you don’t want to—”

  “Ixion’s beard, no. No, no, no, not at all. Distant friendship or not, we go where the money takes us.”

  “Lovely. So, she is said to have taken it from another collector. The pottery was a fusion of two styles, one from Earth and the other from Yaso. The artist was an original colonist from Earth who is said to have come here to explore the new races and learn their methods.”

  “So, are we stealing it to return it to its proper owner?” Holly asked, squeezing honey into her kasé.

  "Yes, as usual. The story is that Menakil hired someone to get it for her. They did," Shiro said. "And now the rightful owner wants it back."

  Holly pulled a spoon from the nearby drawer and began stirring the drink slowly, focusing on the task. “Good. Because I don't like stealing for the sake of riches." She turned to look at Charly. "Hey Charly, love what you’ve done with the place. These pastries, I mean.”

  Charly absently looked across the room at Holly. “Oh, yeah, that. It’s the leftovers from an early brunch some visiting dignitaries held here. They were mostly Centaus and didn’t like the bread stuff. Or so they said. That’s why there are so many left. They told me what to serve them next time.”

  “Sounds like it was a good time.”

  “It wasn’t. I don’t care if they never come back.”

  “So, what do you think, Ms. Drake?” Shiro asked, cupping his mug in his hands and sipping the drink. “Shall we do it?”

  Holly pursed her lips. “Let’s wait a day.”

  “Really?” Darius asked. “Sounds perfect to me.”

  “What sounds perfect about it?”

  “Like it’ll be easy. And pay well,” Darius clarified.

  “All the jobs are easy for you, Darius,” Odeon said, smiling. "You don’t have to be there."

  “True. But it sounds easy for you as well,” he said.

  Shiro, Odeon, and Darius debated the ease of the job, while Charly labored over her decision about what to wear. Holly listened to the arguments for and against going after the vase, and watched Charly, who finally grabbed a gown, and pulled off her shirt to put it on.

  The room grew quiet, till Charly turned to see why.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You just undressed in front of us,” Darius stated.

  “So? Since when do you care about the sight of a female getting undressed?”

  “I don’t care. It was nice.”

  “And the rest of you? Never seen a woman with no clothes on?”

  “That’s not precisely accurate, Charly,” Shiro said. “You still had some clothes on.”

  “You want me to fix that, Shiro?” Charly fingered the hem of the gown like she would take it off.

  Shiro blinked, keeping his composure. “Would Torden mind very much?”

  “Should we ask him?”

  “I don’t—” Shiro cut off, as though he were finally questioning the dangerous direction of the conversation.

  “I’ll ask him, Charly. I would love to see you naked,” Odeon announced, sitting up and putting the instrument aside.

  Holly gasped, then laughed. Darius’s low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and Shiro began to blush furiously.

  “It’s worth it,” Holly said. “I’ve seen it. On a scale from one to ten, I’d give her a ten.”

  “More like an eleven,” Charly said. “Anyway, let’s discuss someone else’s naked body. Odeon, how about yours? You want to see me nude, how about you? Off with the clothes, bucko.”

  “Alright, guys. Come on. This is starting to get weird. Please, let’s not turn our crew into a weird sex cult.” Holly laughed.

  “Bucko?” Odeon asked, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “Being undressed in front of others has never bothered me. It’s part of finding a kind of peace with the Universe. Balance.”

  Shiro, still blushing, began to apologize quickly. “I do apologize, Ms. Drake and Charly, I meant nothing untoward . . . Please don’t share this with Torden . . .”

  Holly moved to Odeon’s side and put her hand on his, preventing him from continuing to undress. “Odeon, it’s not necessary, really. The joke went too far.”

  “Besides, if any of you males should strip for how far this went, it’s Shiro,” Charly said.

  "So basically all the guys?" Holly asked.

  "Yes, except Darius. He's in the clear."

  "I deserve that." Darius spun in his chair.

  “Again, not my intent, lass.”

  Charly smirked and nodded slowly, indicating, it seemed, that she didn’t believe him.

  Holly didn’t either.

  She released Odeon’s hand. “Shiro, find out more about this job and bring me a list of what we’d need to do to pull it off. For now, no decision."

  7

  The noise of the crowd in the market held a certain soothing quality that appealed to Holly. Late evening twilight gripped the corners of the spires that towered around this area of the Yellow Jade district. The lights lining the edges of the edifices began to flicker on, bathing the spires in golden tones.

  The face of Ixion vanished as piles of fluffy clouds broke apart and took over the evening sky. Warm air fluttered across Holly’s face, carrying with it the scent of a recent snowstorm and the fragrances of baking bread, wet streets and the fresh tang of dirt coating the root vegetables that had been shipped in from the southern regions.

  Her fingers closed around the cold skin of carrots and potatoes that she placed in a sack. She was in the mood to hear the sound of a bubbling stew on her stove. Idle thoughts fluttered through her mind, and she let them, wanting to decompress from the excitement over the past few days. There were hard decisions for her to make, concepts and ideas that she needed to sort through. She didn’t look forward to them.

  She wove slowly through the tables laden with vegetables, and thought about her recent meeting with Dave. The dynamic there had changed and she wasn’t sure why. Doubt about his allegiances and intentions still plagued her, though on the face of it, he seemed to fall on the right side of things. But was that simply Holly’s desire to keep the status quo? Was she resistant to the idea that Dave had gone rogue because of their history—what he’d done for her in getting her out of the prison and giving her work when she had none?

  She bit her lip and considered what she really wanted most right now. Would he tell her what was stored on the crystal? Though trusting him was easiest, there was a danger in growing too comfortable with what she wanted and letting that decide her actions, rather than staying alert and suspicious of the people she'd begun to trust.

  So far, the only people she’d learned to seriously trust were those on her crew. Which was exactly why they were on her crew—they’d proven they were trustworthy. Did Darius have a gambling problem? Hell yes. Did that often mean he may embellish the truth or simply lie? Of course it did. The difference was he didn’t fail her on the important things. Same with the others; she knew their flaws and weaknesses, and could work with them.

  But Dave and Xadrian weren’t the same. Holly wasn’t sure what she could trust them with, especially of late. So much more weighed on their working relationship now, and it got heavier with each job and the more they hid from her.

  After gathering the ingredients from her favorite vendor and paying, she slipped inside the nearby bakery she’d taken a liking to and purchased a crusty loaf of bread. The smell of yeast and the comforting fragrance of baking goods filled the air.

  What was happening to her? The vase job Sh
iro had pitched held an appeal, but did it violate the rules that she’d set for herself? Was it a “rob from the rich, rob from a thief” kind of situation, or was it simply stealing to make herself rich?

  As she pushed the door open to exit the bakery, her arms laden with bread and fresh ingredients to make dinner that night, she glanced up and caught sight of a cluster of individuals wearing the colors of the Shadow’s Shadow: white coats with red crests over the breast pocket.

  Holly paused in the doorway and watched them, her breath catching in her throat.

  “Hello? Miss, please. You’re letting all the warm air out,” the baker yelled from behind the counter.

  Holly cast a glance over her shoulder. The other customers stared at her.

  “Oh right, sorry.”

  She pushed all the way out onto the walkway, and then searched for the Shadow’s Shadow. But they had vanished in the throngs of the street market.

  Having spied them in her own neighborhood, a thousand questions burned in Holly’s mind. Were their numbers growing, or had they always been there, just now surfacing as they planned a move? In either case, something was coming. Was it foolish to think that things were the same as they’d always been?

  She lowered her chin and began to walk along the sidewalk that ran behind the vendor’s stalls, her eyes scanning the crowd for the SS members that had disappeared.

  With two groups, and possibly a third faction, if Dave was doing something to move against her, what did she need to do to weather whatever storm was gathering on the horizon?

  I need to do more. Prepare myself, prepare my crew, bring those I can trust together into a close-knit group, to have each other’s backs.

  She was so absorbed in her troubling realization about what was brewing that she didn’t see or sense the person approaching.

  “On your left, Holly Drake,” Odeon’s voice said.

  She leapt a little in her skin. “You following me, Mr. Starlight?”

  “Yes,” he admitted without a hint of shame or embarrassment.