After a perfunctory knock at the door, Conor stepped into the suite. “Opherra wants to see the two of you in her office.”
“How did her lunch with the target go?” Jareck asked as Tamlu excused herself and left the room. “Are we on call for more psychic pressure from my little performer?”
“The boss’ll tell you what you need to know.” Conor flicked a glance at Miriell, and she was surprised how grim he was. “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Repressing an urge to try to read his emotions, Miriell followed him into the corridor, Jareck at her heels. They proceeded down one floor in the gravlift, exiting into a new corridor where the rooms were obviously smaller than the luxury suites above. A few people were coming and going busily as Conor escorted them into the outer office at the end of the hall.
“Go on in, she’s expecting you,” said an efficient human secretary, waving at the door she guarded.
Opherra was seated behind an elegant expanse of highly polished black stone, her chair a marvel of cushions in iridescent black leather, clearly expensive. Paintings crowded the walls, and a plush carpet lay underfoot. The room was the office of a high-level executive who did important work. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I know more,” she said into a vidcom, swiveling to watch Miriell and her handler sit in the chairs Conor indicated. He remained on his feet, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, but he was obviously prepared to go into action at a moment’s notice. For the first time, Miriell noticed the concealed shoulder holster he wore. She shivered. He was as scary and unreachable as he’d been the first day, when he put an end to her escape attempt. This Amarotu thug wasn’t the kind man who’d taken her to the garden or disarmed her necklace. Which is the truth?
“I’m afraid I have bad news for you,” Opherra said, folding her hands on the desk. “There’s no easy way to say this, but the Sectors Criminal Investigation Agency has taken down your home base on Devir 6.”
“The fuck you say!” Jareck leaped to his feet, fists clenched.
Conor moved faster than Miriell could track him, shoving the smaller man into his seat with so much force the chair threatened to tip over. “The boss isn’t finished. Sit down, shut up and listen.”
Glaring at Conor as he took up his earlier position against the wood-paneled wall, Jareck swiveled his head as Opherra continued. “Facts are few, but what we know so far is that apparently the SCIA first blew up part of the facility, for some reason, and has now taken out or arrested nearly ninety percent of the Amarotu branch operation on the planet. The authorities have begun making arrests in the Sector at large, starting at the top. The cops are remarkably well informed about the hierarchy and the business connections, so the Combine is taking a major hit. Fortunately, there’s only a peripheral link to this Sector, including my branch and me, which is what I care about.”
“My people?” Miriell leaned forward, dizzy with worry, forcing herself to speak up. “Any word about their fate?”
Opherra’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a rumor that one of you aliens may have had a hand in bringing the SCIA down on the facility.”
Miriell thought she’d heard wrong. “How could any of us assist the SCIA with anything? We’re slaves, closely held prisoners.”
Opherra glanced at Jareck. “I always thought the venture into the use of these people was ill-advised. And I’ve seen the caliber of people the branch used as handlers. Sloppy. Well, as I said, it’s all rumors right now. The point is you’ve nowhere to go back to, so you belong to me now.”
“Whoa, wait a minute.” Jareck cleared his throat and stared at Opherra.
“Planning to go freelance? Hire yourself and your performer out? Not in my territory.” Opherra drummed her pointed red nails on the black stone desktop. “You were sent to me, so you’re under my command. I haven’t decided as yet if I want to be encumbered with the female. She’s easily disposed of, or sold. As far as you’re concerned, I can always use another foot soldier who knows the Combine rules and took the oath of chanjingku.” She leaned back. “For now, I’ll keep you both on my leash, at least until we know more about what went down on Devir 6, and until we see how my affair with Bazin proceeds. I will say your pet did quite a job getting him excited about the business prospects I offer, even if his libido stayed cold. I was pleasantly surprised at our luncheon.”
Miriell tried to gather her wits, remembering the deadly necklace was disabled. If she pulled all her power to herself, did she have enough reserves to strike at these people, inflict pain and terror on them in revenge for the harm done to her own kind?
Conor cleared his throat, making a little gesture of apology to Opherra as she gave him an angry glare.
Still in a state of shock over the news about the home base, worried about her people to the point of nausea, Miriell felt he was warning her, or asking her to hold herself in abeyance. Maybe he knew something more than Opherra was telling them. Defying his wishes, she sent a weak tendril of her power in his direction, immediately thwarted by the usual impenetrable obsidian, but with blue flames clearly glowing around the edges. The color of a warrior of Thuun. One who could not do evil. Confused, unsure, she decided to wait to see how the situation played itself out. There was power in her hands now that she was free of the threat of death that the necklace had carried. If the Combine did hold any of her people still, then she’d have to bide her time. But if all were free—or dead—matters had changed. Her heart stuttered at the idea of her sister and her other compatriots from Tulavarra being dead, and she wavered in the chair, feeling dizzy. She slipped to her knees on the floor, holding her head and fighting the urge to vomit, as Jareck swore, yanking her arm. Conor came to her side. The room went black, and she knew no more.
When she awakened, she lay on the couch in the suite she shared with Jareck. The lights were off, it was dark outside and there was no sign of her minder or anyone else. Her ankles were tightly secured in the cuffs. Miriell tested her power, dismayed to find the levels remained low. Not enough to kill anyone. I should have accepted Conor’s offer to sneak out to the garden again last night, but then the necklace would still be lethal. There hadn’t been time for both things. Tradeoffs. Hard to know what would have been the best choice. If she and Jareck were going to stay on this planet, her health would clearly suffer and probably decline.
Tears came to her eyes as she thought of her sister and friends, who’d been held in the cells on Devir 6. At least their suffering was over, one way or the other. Her job was now to take what revenge she could.
The door opened, and Jareck came in, reeking of feelgoods. He stumbled and fell, kicking the door shut. After lying on his back for a moment, breathing hard, he hauled himself to his feet by hanging on to the nearest chair. Miriell tensed and lay as still as possible, hoping he’d go straight to bed and ignore her.
But in the next minute he was looming over her. “It’s all your fault,” he said, voice thick. “You and those others betrayed us to the SCIA, didn’t you?” He grabbed her shoulder.
“Please, I don’t know any more about what happened than you do. I don’t know anything about the SCIA.”
He slapped her across the face. “Liar! You and that sister of yours probably planned this whole thing. Lucky for me—unlucky for you—we were sent out here before the SCIA raid to work for this conceited Opherra bitch.”
Holding her aching cheek, tears welling, Miriell shook her head as she denied his accusation again. “I swear by Thuun, I don’t know anything about a plan.” She was at his mercy, trapped on the couch, and by the way he was acting, Jareck was lethally dangerous tonight. Her powers didn’t work on him at all, and they were alone in the room.
He must have seen something of her fear, because he laughed and went to pour himself a drink. “Yeah, you get it, don’t you? Opherra doesn’t like you, doesn’t want you. Which is fine with me. I’m tired of being a babysitter for some stupid alien female.” He sauntered a bit crookedly to the couch, taking a long drink from th
e full glass. Tracing her cheekbone with one finger, he said, “Only, I was promised a promotion. After this trip, I was supposed to be done with you, moving up to take over a pretty sizable drug ring in the spaceport city. Our boss lady appreciated a hardworking, loyal man when she saw one. Now this queen bee here wants to reduce my status to nothing but another soldier in the ranks. Back down in the dregs of the Combine, all my chances for betterment will vanish. Gotta work my way up again.” He poked her in the chest with his fingers, hard. “All because of you.”
Pressed against the cushions, Miriell said nothing, afraid anything she might say would infuriate him further. There were no good answers when Jareck got irrationally upset, which she’d learned the hard way early in her captivity.
“I don’t think Opherra will mind if you get bruised now,” he murmured, eyes gleaming as he set his glass on the carpet. “I don’t think she cares at all.” He raised his hand to slap Miriell again, and she put up her arms in self-defense. Grabbing her left arm, he twisted viciously until she feared bones would break before he slammed her in the ribs with his fist. Crying out from pain, she doubled over, only to be yanked upright by the hair. Cursing her and her people, Jareck got his hands around her neck and started choking her. Pinned, Miriell fought as best she could, clawing at his face, trying to loosen his hands, flinging what shreds of power she had at him, knowing the attempt at self-defense was futile.
The door slammed open. Startled, Jareck paused, loosening his grip and raising his eyes.
“Get the fuck away from her.”
Relief washing over her at the sound of his deep voice, Miriell realized Conor was in the room.
Jareck held up his hands and stood awkwardly. “Hey now, just teaching her a lesson, incentivizing her not to try whatever her friends did back on Devir 6.”
“Trying to kill her,” Conor said, circling around the couch, giving Miriell a quick glance. “You okay?”
“I’m all right,” she said, barely able to speak.
“I’m her Combine handler,” Jareck said, standing straighter. “It’s nobody’s business what I do with her.”
“I’m making it my business. You’re through.” Conor’s voice was steel as he placed himself between the couch and Jareck, who’d retreated to the door leading to the balcony. “You’re never touching her again.”
“You’ve had the hots for her since day one.” Jareck’s accusation was scornful. “I can’t see the attraction myself, but hey, to each his own.” He slid his hand into his pocket and brought out the black AI controller for the necklace detonator. “Too bad for you she tried to escape and paid the price. At least, that’s what I’ll tell Opherra.” He raised the unit and pushed the button.
Miriell gasped, despite knowing she was safe.
Jareck did a double take, looking at the device in his hand and then pushing the button again. He started toward Conor. “You son of a bitch, somehow you tampered—”
Conor shot him in the middle of the forehead, the single blast dropping the thug where he’d stood, dead before he hit the floor. Still holding the weapon at the ready, Conor scooped up the AI and put it in his own pocket. “I’ll take this.”
“What in the seven hells is going on here?” Opherra’s coldly furious voice announced her arrival.
“Had to eliminate the punk,” Conor said smoothly. “He was drunk or high and about to terminate the alien without orders, here in the hotel. I had no choice if we were going to avoid the complications of such a messy hit.”
“So you killed him?”
“It was him or me. I’d have been caught in the explosion.” Conor put his blaster away and shrugged. “He’s no big loss. Low-level cog.”
“Get the cleanup team in here,” Opherra said to Tamlu, who’d come in her wake. “Tell them utmost discretion.” Hands on her hips, she surveyed Conor. “I’m taking the cost of this out of your pay.”
“Fine. Worth it to have his sniveling presence removed from my life.” Conor rifled through Jareck’s pockets and came away with the key to the restraints.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Someone has to take over as her minder. Might as well be me, until you’re done with her services.”
Miriell bit her lip, afraid to say anything.
“Convince me,” Opherra said. “Why you?”
“Her powers don’t work on me, same as with the kid here, much as I hate to have anything in common with a complete and utter loser. She tried something along those lines the other night, and nothing.” Conor gave Miriell a contemptuous glance as he spun the lie. “She wasn’t too pleased either, which is how I could tell what she was trying to pull. Listen, you do want her around until the Bazin deal is sealed, or am I wrong?”
“Yes, she apparently managed to influence him heavily on some things.” Opherra tapped the toe of her expensive snakeskin shoe on the rug as she considered. “All right, she’s yours to watch until I’m done with her.”
“Yes, boss.” Conor knelt beside the couch to undo the ankle restraints. “I’ll move her to my rooms. No need to keep this big space for her. I’ll feel better if she’s under my direct supervision anyway.”
“Fine.” Opherra headed to the door. “Just one thing.”
“Yes?”
“You’re not fooling me for a moment, Conor Stewart.”
Miriell took a deep breath and closed her eyes, terrified of what the crime boss might know.
Conor rested his hand on her calf, squeezing it gently in subtle reassurance as he said, “I’d never try to fool you on anything, boss lady. Be an idiot fool to even try. Smarter guys than me have tried and failed.”
She laughed. “Damn straight. So fuck this girl sooner rather than later, satisfy your itch or your curiosity or whatever it is about her that’s afflicting you with a permanent hard-on and get over it. Because we are not keeping her.” On the heels of her ultimatum, Opherra swept out of the suite.
Miriell thought Conor took an extra deep breath but couldn’t be sure. He helped her sit up, frowning as he watched her press one hand to her side and grimace. “What’s the damage?”
“Broken rib maybe. He punched me pretty hard.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. The pit boss called me when he had to throw Jareck out of the casino because he was so sloppy drunk, but I was in the middle of something. Couldn’t come straight up here. Let’s get you to my room, and I’ll take a look. This place is about to be busy. Cleanup crew coming. You have anything personal in here we should grab? Because all of his stuff is going to disappear.”
She shook her head. “I only have the clothes I’m wearing.”
“All right, then. With your permission, I’m going to carry you.” He waited for her surprised nod before lifting her from the couch with no visible effort and carrying her into the hall as a group of grim-faced men stepped from the gravlift and headed toward her old room. Conor nodded to the man in the lead and went the opposite direction, stopping at a room a few doors away. He unlocked the portal and carried her inside.
The lights came up, revealing a room about the size of the one she’d shared with Jareck, but there were no personal effects, no mess or clutter. The suite could have been unoccupied, for all the signs of residency she saw. Conor took her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed.
“Stay put. I’m going to get my medkit and see what we’re dealing with,” he said, voice stern.
She nodded, still a bit dazed and shocked from the recent events.
Conor brought a red and white container from the bathroom and sat beside her, unfastening the kit to reveal sensors and injects and other things Miriell didn’t recognize. “Black-market stuff, but it works.” Selecting a gadget, he ran it over her, a few inches above the surface of her body, bathing her in a pale light. The device beeped once or twice. “Cracked rib,” he said. “Nothing else broken, although you’re going to have some spectacularly colorful bruises.”
“He’d barely started,” she said.
“You arrived almost right after he did. Thank you—”
“Nothing I can do for the rib, other than a painkiller.” He put away the sensor and tapped an inject. “Do you want something? Help you sleep?”
“No.” She was puzzled by the remoteness of his tone, uncertain what was going to happen next. If he cared enough to rescue me, why is he being so standoffish now? She didn’t know exactly what she’d expected once they were alone, but this aloof behavior wasn’t it.
Lips tight, he said, “I noticed evidence of old fractures on the scanner. Did he beat you up often?”
Unable to bear the intensity in his eyes, she whispered her answer. “Yes. Only when we were away from Devir 6 and his boss wouldn’t know.”
“Bastard. I should have made him suffer. There’s no excuse for hitting a woman.” He smoothed her hair away from her brow. “So beautiful,” he murmured, allowing a strand to slip off his fingers. “Unusual. And soft, like fern fronds or the petals of a flower.” Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, “Opherra has my room bugged. We need to talk but not here, not tonight. The bathroom isn’t bugged, by the way. Trust me, okay? Truce?”
Pulse racing, she nodded, afraid to speak. This situation became more confused with each passing moment, although she wanted to cling to the warmth of him, shelter in his strong arms. Conor allowed the embrace for a moment longer before he gently put her aside and rose, taking the medkit back to the bathroom.
“We’ll be sharing the bed, by the way.” His tone was suggestive. “But I can see you’re too banged up tonight to enjoy what Opherra recommended. Maybe tomorrow night.”
She had only rags of power left, but at this comment she sent a feeler in his direction. There was a hint of desire for her behind his shields, but nothing indicating he planned to give in to impulse. Relaxing a bit, she decided he was playing a double game, saying aloud what he felt Opherra would expect to hear if she checked the listening devices.
Danger in the Stars: (The Sectors SF Romance Series) Page 6
