Bearly Christmas

by Becca Fanning

  The guard stopped in front of a door and knocked on it three times.

  “Come in,” a voice said from inside.

  They went in.

  Sylas Rahm had grey streaking his temples and cold blue eyes. He sat back in a large padded chair behind his desk, calmer than Zosha thought anyone who had people trying to shoot up his compound had any right to be. The light from the holoscreen on his desk lit him up, making his angles more severe.

  “Thank you,” he said, nodding at the guard, who nodded back and then walked out, closing the door.

  “So,” Sylas said lazily. “Tell me what all this is about.”

  “It started with me picking the wrong pocket,” Zosha started, steeling herself. She told him about Lan Doro’s first barely avoided attack and all the running that followed. She told about sneaking through Dalos XI and onto the Breakwater. About being found. She only left out knowing Spinner, out of habit, and the truth about the Breakwater crew’s genetics.

  “…and there’s four of mine still outside,” she said, winding down. “And seeing as they can’t do much business for you if they’re dead, I think it would be best if you tried to keep them alive. Sir.”

  Sylas contemplated her, eyes running over her as though she were a passably interesting problem to be solved. “You know, he said you could be a bit pushy. I see he wasn’t wrong.”

  Before Zosha could ask who told him that, a very familiar voice sounded from the holoscreen.

  “I am never wrong,” Spinner said, sounding as though he had a very large headache. “Hello, Zosha. Next time could you please try to give me more than fifteen minutes of a heads up before you get yourself shot at?”

  “Did you pick a side?” Zosha demanded, ignoring his question. “You’ve never picked a side before.”

  “You never got this close to being assassinated before,” Spinner responded. “Besides, do you have any idea how hard it’s been to get decent information from Lytos recently? It was time to put an end to this silly spat.”

  Sylas raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  “Also, I—oh. That’s interesting.”

  “What is it?” Sylas asked.

  “Well, good news, I think your friends survived,” Spinner said. “Of course, I can’t be completely sure that those are, in fact, your friends. Zosha, do you have something you’d like to tell us?”

  “Ah, that,” Zosha said as the door behind her opened to reveal two of Sylas’ guards, one of the black-clad mercs looking somewhat traumatized and handcuffed, and four bears.

  Zosha felt something warm rush through her veins as she saw them, looking roughed up but alive. She all but flung herself at Rick, wrapping her arms around his wide neck.

  “I am so happy to see you,” she whispered into his fur. He made a deep noise in the back of his throat and pressed his nose against her neck, which she chose to interpret as reciprocation.

  “Zoshanna,” Spinner voice filled the room, low and deadly. “I have been out of contact with you for less than two days. Please tell me you haven’t managed to not only find but fall in love with a bear shifter in that amount of time.”

  “Well, I mean, it’s a little soon to say it’s love, I think,” she told him. “But he’s really pretty and I like his smile, so it’s probably getting there.”

  Rick made what Zosha hoped was a pleased sounding noise.

  “Fantastic,” Spinner said, voice practically oozing sarcasm. “Any other bombshells you want to drop on me?”

  “Yes, but not right now,” Zosha said, already not looking forward to breaking the news to Spinner that he’d accidentally hidden her away on the ship of the people who took out Strathmore.

  “Would you like a private room to, ah, change?” Sylas said with an impressive amount of composure for a man talking to a bear.

  The bear Zosha assumed was the captain nodded.

  “In that case, could one of you please escort these gentlemen to somewhere where they can shift without being disturbed? I imagine they’ll also need a change of clothes.”

  One guard nodded and stepped back into the hallway. Zosha gave Rick one last squeeze before stepping away from him. He bumped his shoulder against her chest before turning and following the guard. Once they were gone, Sylas beckoned for the captured mercenary to be brought towards him. The remaining guard hauled him forward, then pushed him on the ground, one boot at the small of his back and a blaster pointed at his head.

  “I am going to ask you a series of questions. You will answer these questions with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no,’ no more and no less. Do you understand?” Sylas asked the merc.

  “Yes,” the merc rasped out.

  “Excellent. You work for my brother, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you were sent here to kill this girl.”

  “Yes.”

  “You were told to do this because she stole a notebook that contained information on my brother’s U4 trade.”

  “Yes.”

  “This information has the potential to end Jackson’s little coup.”

  “Well, then. It looks like everything’s in order. Kill him, please.”

  Zosha barely had time to look away before the blaster fired.

  “Sorry about that. I don’t mean to doubt you, but in this business one should always double check,” Sylas said.

  “I completely understand,” Spinner said. “Zosha, you good?”

  “About as good as can be expected,” Zosha answered, trying not to breathe in with her nose. Blaster-cooked flesh was one of those scents she could live without.

  “Glad to hear it. So. What’s he like in bed?”

  “Spinner, oh my God,” Zosha choked out.

  “What? I want to know what’s new in your life. You don’t talk to me these days. You just send me messages about your inevitable death that you’re lucky I saw before it was too late. Now, is he the gentle type or the hair-pulling type?”

  “This isn’t a conversation I want to have next to a dead body!” Zosha said, trying to keep the hysteria out of her voice. “And I haven’t slept with him yet.”

  “Pity. The changing room has cameras. You’re in for a treat.”

  “Please stop looking at the naked bear shifters. Please.”

  “Well, I can’t anymore. They’re heading back to you,” Spinner informed her primly. “Also, if you wanted to thank me for talking to the delightful Mr. Rahm here, you could ask your boy and the one with the hand where they got their prosthetics done. I’ve never seen any that can shift like that.”

  “Will do,” Zosha replied, relieved at the subject change.

  Captain Ingram, freshly clad in an extra guard uniform and looking much cleaner than expected, threw the door open and strode in. Zosha, who hadn’t seen him in his element like this yet, had to admit he was much more intimidating on the job.

  “Mr. Rahm. Sorry about the mess,” he said, smiling wryly.

  “Occupational hazard,” Sylas answered with a dismissive wave. “Your associate here has filled me in on your proposal. I’ll admit, I’m intrigued.”

  “You should be,” the captain said as the other shifters filed into the room. Rick immediately crossed over to Zosha and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’m not prone to false modesty, so I’ll tell you up front that I run one of the best smuggler ships in the galaxy. We’re head and shoulders over the half-rate idiots your brother uses, and I think we’ve already demonstrated our loyalty.”

  “Are you okay?” Rick whispered to Zosha.

  “I’m totally fine. You’re the one that was getting shot at. Are you hurt?” Zosha asked, smoothing a hand up his side.

  Rick snorted. “Don’t worry, the mercs were so bad I almost felt bad for killing them. They were really into the ‘spray and pray’ school of shooting,” he reassured her, pressing a kiss to her hairline.

  “Did you know that the standard decorum for most negotiations doesn’t involve feeling each other up in the corner like teenagers?” Spinner d
rawled.

  “Shut up,” Zosha told him, stepping back from Rick fractionally. He dropped his arm from her shoulders, grabbing her hand and winding their fingers together instead.

  Spinner sighed. “I break one of my oldest principles and plead your case to a criminal overlord, and this is the thanks I get. Such a thankless child.”

  “You’re half a year older than me,” Zosha muttered as the captain arched an eyebrow.

  “Well, thank you for your intervention, Mr...” the captain trailed off, carefully addressing the holoscreen.

  “Spinner,” Spinner said. “And you’re Captain Ingram. You’re turning out to be much more interesting that I expected.”

  The shifters stiffened and then, almost simultaneously, turned to look at Zosha. Rick’s grip tightened on her hand.

  She grinned sheepishly. “So, ah, you remember that information broker friend I mentioned?”

  “I do,” the captain told her in an even tone. “I do not, however, remember you telling us that it was one of the most feared people in the galaxy.”

  “Stop it, I’m blushing,” Spinner said.

  “How can we tell he’s the real deal?” Hyde asked, eyeing the holoscreen suspiciously.

  “You can’t,” Spinner informed him. “Your talents are useful, but not enough to find anything useful about me and honestly, that’s not your main concern right now.”

  “Right. My apologies, Mr. Rahm,” Captain Ingram said.

  “Think nothing of it,” Sylas said with what would have been amusement if he were the type of man to have emotions. “Please, tell me a bit about your work.”

  As the captain launched into a sales pitch, Zosha looked tentatively up at Rick. Instead of the anger she had been afraid of, all she could see was affection tinged with exasperation.

  “Surprise?” she said guiltily.

  “That’s definitely what you are, yes,” he said. “Why didn’t Spinner just take care of this earlier? He certainly has the influence.”

  Zosha shook her head. “He can’t afford to take sides. It could affect the quality of information he receives. Me running was easier for both of us. I feel horrible about involving him in all of this. I’m just trouble for everyone who helps me, I guess.”

  “Sounds about right,” Rick told her warmly. “You’re worth it, though.”

  Hyde snorted but didn’t say anything.

  “Glad to hear it,” Zosha murmured, clenching her hand tighter in Rick’s to stop it from shaking. Understanding filled his gaze and he turned to his captain.

  “Leo, I think it might be best if I took Zosha back to the ship,” he said.

  Captain Ingram glanced at Sylas, who nodded.

  “Alright. Make sure you fill Annie and Dom in,” the captain told him.

  “Yeah, be sure to let Annie know that she was wrong. Killing our way in totally worked,” Custer snickered. Everyone ignored him.

  “Comm me when you’ve rested a bit, Zosha,” Spinner said. “I think you owe me an explanation.”

  “Will do,” she said and let Rick pull her out of the room.

  The guards they passed looked at them suspiciously but did nothing to hinder them, and soon they were back out in the open air.

  Zosha looked around at the devastation in the market and felt the guilt twist in her stomach. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but several stalls were obliterated and bloodstains covered the ground. Zosha didn’t want to think about what had happened to the bodies.

  Rick squeezed her hand. “If you want to blame someone for this, blame Lan Doro, or the Rahm brothers. You didn’t know what would happen.”

  “That doesn’t make it not my fault,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “Think about it like this: more people would have died if the conflict between the Rahm brothers had continued. You all but ending it here stopped that.”

  “I know. It doesn’t feel like that, though,” she told him.

  They walked in silence. Zosha kept her eyes on the ground and her hand in Rick’s. After a moment, he huffed out a laugh.

  “Did I tell you about the time I had to hide in a tree for six hours because Custer pissed off a contact so bad he sent his personal army after us?” he asked.

  Zosha felt something warm and fluttery worm its way into her stomach. “No, no you did not.”

  By the time he finished the story, Zosha’s smile was small but genuine.

  “So, what do you guys usually do after something like this?” she asked.

  “Me personally? Get drunk as hell. Why, what did you have in mind?”

  “Life-affirming sex,” she told him. “But getting drunk works too.”

  Rick stared at her for a moment, then swept her up in a bridal carry. She shrieked with laughter, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “I like your idea better,” he said, walking purposefully towards the ship.

  “Glad you see it my way,” Zosha said, giggling.

  The door to the cargo hold lowered as they approached, Annie standing at the top of the ramp and waiting for them.

  “I’m guessing things went well,” she said.

  “Yup,” Rick told her cheerfully as he walked by her. “Sylas Rahm is on board, the captain’s negotiating for work in return for the notebook now, and Zosha’s information broker is Spinner, and yes, I do mean the ‘occasionally crumbles regimes for profit’ Spinner. Also, I’m off duty for at least the next two hours.”

  “What?” Annie all but shrieked after them.

  “Ask Leo about it!” Rick called back at her, turning down the hallway for his room.

  He shifted Zosha to one arm to punch in the access code to his room. She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, then nipped the spot where her lips had been. Rick moaned and lunged into the room almost before the door was open.

  He took three steps forward and then tossed Zosha onto the bed. She bounced once, giggling, and then he was on top of her, sliding his hands under her shirt and pressing open-mouthed kisses down her neck and along her collarbone. She arched up, pressing her breasts against his chest and hissing in pleasure.

  “God, I’ve wanted you like this since I first saw you,” he said into the hollow of her neck.

  “What, you mean when you found me hiding in your cargo hold with a nutri-pack hanging out of my mouth?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I don’t think you realize how you look in that suit,” he said. “God, no wonder you never get caught. They’re too busy staring at you to do anything.”

  A laugh bubbled out of her. “It’s just a suit.”

  “It’s so tight,” Rick told her, thumb skimming along the underside of her bra. “I just wanted to rip it off of you.”

  He slid one hand down and squeezed her ass. Zosha moaned, then tugged at his shirt.

  “Okay, naked, we need to be naked right now,” she told him. He pulled away and shucked off his shirt, then went to work on his boots.