by Linda Gayle
The patch was nothing. Her bond with Kels was everything. The truth was she knew little to nothing about jarouk, except that it involved the players risking a sting from a poisonous insect in order to win. It sounded rather stupid to her, but it was apparently a popular game in back alleys and unsavory establishments across the SenVerse. Sayal heard the cleanser shut off and Kels humming as the drying lights snapped on.
She pressed her hands against her face, allowed one sinking moment of doubt, then pushed it aside. He must not see her uncertainty, her fear, or else the slim thread of trust between them would snap. That she could not allow.
If she couldn’t protect him through their bond, everything was forfeit.
Elion leaned against the side of a storage unit and watched Kels and the girl coming toward him down the corridor. Surrounded by short, stocky Quitzae, they stood out like tall trees among shrubs. They weren’t quite at the stage of holding hands, but their fingers brushed as they walked, and now Kels leaned toward Sayal and said something that made her laugh.
Well, if they hadn’t fucked, they’d come damned close. He knew the symptoms.
He’d been with Kels long enough to see him sweep more than a few women out of their gravity boots. It was more than his rough good looks and charm; it was his basic kindness. Plenty of fellas bore black eyes or worse from his fists, but women sensed almost immediately that they were safe with him, and in this crazy SenVerse, that was a rare thing.
Elion understood the basis for Kels’s attitude, though he doubted many others did. Kels had watched his family die toward the end of the Great Conflicts, the decades-long human-alien wars brought to Earth by the Primes. Kels said he never wanted to return to Earth, but still, it was clear those experiences had opened his heart, not closed it as they had so many others. Elion supposed it was just one more reason why he loved his boss. There were a lot of bitter, angry, greedy humans in the SenVerse, but Kels Havoc was not one of them—well, greedy, maybe, but not the rest. And Elion would kill anyone who tried to destroy his decent soul.
Which made him narrow his eyes at Sayal Iluma. Something about her didn’t jibe. She was too pretty, too perfect, too everything. Crack, he preferred fucking men, and even he got a hard-on around her. She was just the type of woman to twine Kels around her little finger and ruin everything. Not that they had that much, at the moment, other than a history together, a friendship that had survived disaster, financial ruin, near death in the cold reaches of space more times than he could count.
Elion lit a cig and dragged on it to settle his nerves. Kels and Sayal had stopped at a food vendor, and he was buying her something to eat. Elion shook his head. If there were booths with flowers and candy, Kels’d be buying those too, the big idiot.
Tired of waiting in the shadows, he wound his way through the stream of Quitzae to the captain’s side. “Thanks, I would like something to eat,” he said.
Kels grinned. “There you are. I was wondering where you’d got to.”
“I was watching you two strolling down the boulevard. Couple of lovebirds. What would Keeva think if she saw you now?”
The only sign of Kels’s displeasure was a slight tightening around his mouth. “She’d think I was making smart business,” he said, then dipped his head closer to Elion. “Did you?”
“Did I what?” Elion asked, pushing the cig to the corner of his mouth and pointing to a picture of a wrap similar to Sayal’s. The Quitza vendor’s whiskers twitched as he put it together with busy pink paws.
“Make business. Any customers?”
“Yeah.” He took the wrap and tossed his cig. “I’ve got a hundred crates of hool and two hundred of cigs that need transport.”
“Hool and cigs?” Kels wrinkled his nose. “Saints, is that the best we can do?”
“On Aleut Station it is. Look, at least it’s something. It’s M’Tal, and he’s willing to pay seventy percent up front.”
He could see Kels calculating in his mind. “Least that’ll buy our fuel to the Zone. All right. Now all’s we need is the ship.”
“I have the patch,” Sayal said, proving she had been listening in.
“Hush.” Kels handed the Quitza four bits of iron and led them aside. “Not so loud with the patch, princess. Lots of busy ears around here, and plenty of them lead back to Ulvik.”
“I’m sorry.” Sayal had the decency to look chagrined.
Elion said, “Let’s see it.”
“Well, I…I do have it with me, but…”
Elion held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. Looking around first, she withdrew a small plastiseal pouch from her pants pocket. Now it occurred to him that she’d changed, and up close, he realized Kels’s clothes had been processed. Yeah, they’d fucked. Masking his dismay, he turned the patch over in the weak overhead lights. It didn’t seem like much, like a bit of poorly cut gauze smeared with some sort of paste.
“Are you sure about this?” He handed the patch to Kels, who gave it back to Sayal without examining it.
“Of course,” she said, slipping it away again.
“How’s the tat?” he asked her.
“Fine, thanks. I hardly feel it now, just a little tenderness around my spine.”
Kels was already half done with his wrap, and Elion took a bite out of his. For all they looked like big rodents, Quitzae were decent little chefs. He’d tried more than once to talk Kels into hiring a Quitza cook for the Nova, but the captain wouldn’t hear of it. “One more mouth to pay,” he’d said.
“Listen,” Elion said around a chew of veg, bread, and cheese. “We really should have a backup plan. It’s not that I’m so put off by the idea of having permanent black swirlies on my face, but we absolutely can’t risk losing the Nova for the second time. Ulvik won’t humor us again. He’ll have the ship sold before we get another crack at her.”
“I’ve thought about that.” Kels slouched against a handy wall. “I say we blackmail him. If he won’t give us the ship, we turn him over to the authorities for dealing with illegal ink. We’ve got the proof right here.” He patted Sayal’s shoulder.
She blanched. “But didn’t he say if we tried to remove the ink, I would die?”
“No worries, luv. There’s always a way, even if it’s just a deep scan. You’ll see. Medical technology’s got quite advanced. Even the Dome scanners pick up most things.”
She blanched further, her bronzed skin growing somewhat yellow about the edges.
Apparently not noticing, Kels said to Elion, “That’s where we were headed when I called you. Getting cleared for the games.”
“You’re ready to compete?” Saints, how much fucking had they done in the two hours he’d been separated from them?
“Now or never,” Kels said cheerfully. “Besides, we don’t have to, not here anyhow. It was your condition that we prove ourselves before we head off to the Zone. If you want to blow that off, I’m sure Sayal wouldn’t mind.”
Elion finished the last of his wrap, so much better than duck eggs. “No, I stand by my conditions, because if she can’t perform”—he jabbed a finger at Sayal, not caring that it was rude—“then there’s no point in going all the way to the Zone and risking our asses and our assets. I could just as easily negotiate a better payload to the Rim, safer and more profitable.”
“I won’t disappoint you,” Sayal said, her low, musical voice twining around his brain. Why’d she have to look so earnest and regretful, as if she was already sorry she was putting them out? It would be easier to hate her if she were arrogant like Keeva. She put her hand on Kels’s arm, and he patted it absently, wiping his mouth with a napkin and tossing it in a recycle bin. Already they interacted seamlessly, like a couple who had been together for years. There was almost none of the awkwardness he’d seen before when women had first gone into the games with Kels. The captain had some funny stories after some of the birds discovered, halfway through intercourse, that hundreds of goggling eyes staring at them was a major thrill-kill.
Wo
uld Sayal be able to perform publicly? Elion had his doubts.
“When do you plan to compete?” he asked.
“Soon as Canto clears us. Not tonight obviously, since we’ve got a jarouk game to win, but tomorrow’s twelve-hour opening’s a possibility.” Kels slung an arm around Sayal and pulled her to his side. “Not too big an audience, not too much competition. They always start with neos before the nymphos.” He grinned at his own joke, but Sayal’s plush lips curved in a frown. “What’s the matter, princess? Not getting cold feet, are you?”
“No, of course not. It’s my back. It’s starting to sting a bit.”
“Oh?” Kels leaned behind her shoulder, lifted the tail of her blouse, and examined her. “Looks all right from here. Better keep an eye on it. If you’re not feeling up to it, I can take you back to your cube, and you can rest.”
“I’d rather do it now, get it out of the way, as you said.” She shook her head so her glossy black hair swung gently. Elion idly wondered what that silky hair would feel like sliding between his fingers or wrapped around his cock.
He didn’t realize Kels was staring at him until the captain gave him a little kick with the toe of his boot. He crossed his arms over his chest and schooled his expression to seriousness. “I agree. We need to have all our loose ends knotted.”
Kels’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, and Elion knew he’d noticed him noticing Sayal. Crack and ruin… He’d never interfered with Kels’s sexual affairs before, and he shouldn’t start now. Without another word, he started walking toward the Dome, partly to avoid questions he didn’t want to answer, partly to keep his hard-on out of view of his captain’s keen eyes.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
Just how accurate were these scanners, Sayal wanted to ask. She walked between the men again, keeping her expression neutral as they approached the Dome. The arena was easy to spot. A wide bank of doors surrounded by rows of flashing gold and red lights drew the eye, and moving holograms of the headliners danced across a continuous ribbon screen above the entrance. She recognized Keeva’s dark, pretty face as the woman’s image blew a kiss, then turned and wagged her scantily clad ass to passersby. Hardly any of the men were featured, unless they were in all-male pairs or groups.
Elion slowed as they approached a side door. “I’ll meet you out here.”
“C’mon, El. Come in. No one’s performing now,” Kels said.
“I really don’t want to.” The first mate lit another cig and stared into the passing crowds. “It’s your thing, not mine.”
Kels, his arm slung over her shoulders, leaned closer to his mate, pulling her with him. “Listen, while she’s getting checked, you and me can talk business, yeah? I promise, I won’t let anyone haul your fine ass into the arena and put on a show.” He grinned, and Elion rolled his eyes, his jaw tightening until it was a wonder he didn’t bite his cig in two.
“Yeah, well, that’d be their lucky day, wouldn’t it?” he replied drily. “All right. Won’t take long, right?”
“Few minutes.” Kels pulled open the door and let Elion and Sayal in ahead. Sayal felt sorry for the mate. Could Kels be so obtuse as to not realize his friend had feelings for him? He’d seemed so cryptic when she’d asked whether he and Keeva and Elion had performed together, as if it didn’t matter to him either way. She was certain it would matter to Elion. He seemed like a cool well with untapped depths, his Old Earth Nordic blue eyes giving away little when they weren’t sparking with annoyance.
Kels slid his arm down from her shoulders and took her hand in his. He knew his way around the Dome and led them through a maze of halls redolent with the antiseptic tang of biocleanse and sweat and, undeniably, of recent sex. Her nerves began to wind up, her pulse pinging as he hauled her confidently along. Elion trailed beside and a little behind him, and she risked a glance over to him. He looked as tense as she felt.
Kels pushed through a glass door to an office where a thin human male sat, tapping out something with a stylus on his digipad. The man, who had to be Canto, glanced up, and his gaze flicked to Sayal and Elion before he said, “Captain Havoc. Back to tread the boards again?”
His eyebrow quirked. “Eh?”
The man sighed and folded one hand beneath his chin. “It’s an Old Earth acting term. I don’t suppose you’re familiar with it.”
“Sorry, no, but I am back to fuck.” He pulled Sayal forward. “I’ve got a new gamespartner. We’d like to register for the first round tomorrow.”
“So soon after Keeva’s departure? Bad bit about her getting that agent.” The man lounged back in his chair, his legs crossed at the knee. “I worry she’ll get the worse end of any deal that scrag can cook up.”
“So do I,” Kels said. “Exactly why I never bothered with agents.”
“Mm.” The man’s gaze rolled over to Sayal. He had an odd appearance, for she sensed he was far older than he looked. His tan skin, while not wrinkled, still gave an impression of age, as if it had thinned and been pulled very tight across the sharp cheekbones. He had a full head of lustrous black hair, and of course he was lean, as obesity, along with almost every other vanity malady, had been wiped out with designer pharmaceuticals.
If he’d indulged in as many medications as it seemed, he must be completely impotent, which would be quite ironic for a gamesmaster. “What’s your name, dear, and tell me why you want to trust your pussy to this ne’er-do-well criminal?”
“Sayal Iluma,” she said, her voice sounding very small indeed, and ignoring the second part of his question. As the gamesmaster jotted it down on his digipad, the reality of her endeavor sank in. To their right, sounds carried from the arena. Someone was hard at work practicing out there. Grunts and groans and sharp cries for “more” and “harder” and “ouch, too much!” drifted in. Leaning past Kels, she could glimpse bodies moving a few meters away, but the glass was frosted, allowing only the rather frightening impression of heaving flesh. If Kels hadn’t been tightly holding her hand, she might have fled.
“And you?” The gamesmaster glanced at Elion, who had left them to peruse some vidimages on the wall.
Elion turned and held up his hands. “Just here for moral support.”
“Moral…” The gamesmaster chuckled. “I like your sense of humor. And your ass.” He twirled his finger, indicating he’d like Elion to model said ass. When Elion only glared, he sighed. “Fine, then. But you’d make a fortune in the arena with that blond hair and blue eyes. Almost extinct, you know, blonds.”
“I’d heard,” he said tightly.
“Especially if you performed with these two.” He flipped his stylus between his fingers. “We could use more triads. You’re sure you’re not interested?”
Elion looked at Kels, his jaw rigid. “I should have waited outside.”
“It’s all right, El. He means it as a compliment.” He shook his head at the gamesmaster. “It’s hopeless, Canto. I’ve been after him for years, and he keeps shooting me down. What’s a bloke to do?” He shrugged, Canto laughed, Elion’s face turned red, and Sayal wanted to kick the captain.
She blurted, “I’m here for a health scan.”
“Do you have the time now?” Kels asked. “Like I said, we want to get fucking as soon as possible.”
“Understandably.” Canto’s knowledgeable and assessing gaze skated over Sayal. “Tomorrow’s twelve-hour games, you said?” His fingers flitted over his digipad. “I have a slot open. Not much of a pot for that hour, though, you do realize?”
“It’s all right. It’s more for practice than anything else.”
“Can I interest you in a contract? Twenty percent higher pay, as you know.”
“Nah. We won’t be around long enough to make it worth your while.”
“Fine, then. We have a few neos starting, including that triad you hear bumbling in the ring now.” He puckered his lips in disapproval. “It’ll be good to see you back in action, Captain. Keeva was a big draw, but don’t think y
ou don’t have your fans too. We’ll get your image on the marquee right away. Haven’t had the heart to take down Keeva’s yet; she pulled in so many customers.” He pushed back from his desk and stood, taking his digipad with him, and waved Sayal to him. “Come this way, my dear. We’ll have you through the scanner in no time. Any known diseases, deformities, or abnormalities? Any history of pharmaceutical use, drug abuse, or addiction?”
The way he slipped into a monotone, she got the feeling he’d done this many times before, which only increased the tightness in her belly. To fuck like an animal, on display to strange eyes…
She glanced at Kels, who put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. His eyes were kind. “Do you want me to go in with you?”
“It’s quite safe,” Canto said, apparently recognizing her reticence.
Sayal shook her head. “No. You and Elion have matters to discuss.” She said it a bit pointedly, hoping Kels would take the hint. Elion’s expression was still stony. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll find you when we’re finished.”
Canto took her gently by the arm and led her through another frosted-glass door.
Best they were alone. If he did discover her alien DNA, she would have to do…something. Push him psychically, block his mind, force him to alter the results. She would hate to have to do that. It was unethical and repulsive, using her hybrid abilities to manipulate pure humans, especially since that was one reason she’d been created in the first place: to dominate, to rule. Her heart leaped against her breastbone as the door shut behind them, and Canto led her to a table surrounded by glowing monitors. Walk away, she told herself. Run away and don’t look back. Live a free woman; let Sorush be someone else’s problem.
