Soul of a Predator

by Angela Verdenius

  And the children were alone.

  Two

  Eyes sharp, Shaque waited in the tree. Perched on a thick branch, he waited as the prey entered the clearing.

  Looking across, he caught Ricna's dark-eyed gaze, and then glanced around to Abra, waiting for his signal.

  When it came, the hunters wasted no time. They dropped silently from the trees, landing amidst the outlaws, taking advantage of the element of surprise.

  The outlaws tried to scatter, but faced with the snapping lashes of the bullwhips, and the deadly machetes swung by the hunters, they were forced into a cluster. But it didn't stop them from fighting.

  With no regard for anyone else, they drew their lasers. Uncaring that the laser fire would burn through flesh and into the next person, be it friend or foe, they started firing at the hunters.

  In the bushes to the right and left, Vane and Nat appeared with the heavy manblasters in their arms. The hunters dropped to the ground as one, and the manblasters fired, the flare burning through the outlaws like a hot knife through butter.

  Within seconds it was over. The hunters stood and dragged the bodies together into a pile.

  "Bring the ship over,” Ricna ordered into the communicator attached to his shirt.

  Idly twirling his dagger, Shaque watched as the bounty hunter ship appeared overhead within minutes. A doorway slid open in the bottom of the ship, and a long ramp lowered a freezer unit. Once it hit the ground, the doors slid open and cold air drifted out.

  The hunters tossed the bodies into the freezer unit, and Shaque pressed the switch that slid the doors shut. The ramp pulled back, and the freezer unit rose into the air and was drawn back into the holding bay of the hunters’ ship.

  Another group of outlaws, wanted dead or alive. And very dead they were now, too.

  No remorse touched Shaque. The outlaws were ruthless killers, and were simply a waste of breath. Well, they'd not be contaminating the air now.

  The hunters’ ship hovered above the tree tops, a long step ramp coming down to connect with the ground. The bounty hunters climbed the steps and entered the ship. The ramp withdrew and snapped shut behind the hunters, enclosing them in the cargo hold.

  Now was time to take stock of any injuries. A few cuts, a knick here and there, and Menac had a laser burn across his upper arm, but apart from that, there was nothing serious.

  Abra shucked his weapons down on the bench holding the maintenance tools and started cleaning his bullwhip of blood. The other hunters did the same, tending to their weapons, and what Ricna jokingly referred to as their tools of the trade.

  "I think the freezers are just about all full.” Jarvis entered the hold with the medikit.

  Menac stripped off his shirt and grimaced. “This is going to hurt, right?"

  "Bloody big baby.” Opening the medikit, Jarvis took out the bottle of antiseptic and a pair of scissors.

  Briefly, Shaque glanced from the scissors to Menac's face. The big man had no fear of anything, until it came down to getting injuries tended. Shot, stabbed, beaten up—he seemed to feel no pain. But get out the antiseptic and he started sweating.

  "You're in the wrong job,” Abra drawled.

  Menac scowled.

  "If you don't want to get patched up, you need a safe job.” Holding up the bullwhip, Abra ran the lash through his fingers.

  "I like my job just fine. Bloody hell!” Menac swore as the antiseptic burned his raw flesh.

  Ricna and Vane laughed.

  "Bastards!” Face white, Menac sat down shakily as Jarvis proceeded to cut the dead flesh away. “Where the hell is the pain killer?"

  "We used the last of it on you two weeks ago,” Ricna reminded him dryly.

  "So why didn't we get more?"

  "Didn't think of it."

  The cursing of his friend faded into the background as Shaque wiped the blood from his machete. Going across to the blade sharpener fastened onto the table on the side wall, he proceeded to hone the blade to razor sharpness.

  His movements were automatic, the chore one he'd done a thousand times and more over the years. Kill, take stock of injuries, clean and sharpen weapons. Normally he found a quiet contentment in the task of cleaning and sharpening weapons, a time of getting his thoughts in order and losing himself in the quiet, efficient movements. But his mind was elsewhere right now.

  Where the hell was Elyse? No one had seen nor heard of her whereabouts. That meant she had to be deeper into the Outlaw Sector, out of his reach. He wanted her in front of him, wanted to force her to answer his questions. He had to know. Needed to know. She was his only link ... and she was out of reach.

  Testing the blade with his thumb, he noted the sharpness and crossed to the weapon cabinet on the other side of the hold. Secured in holders behind the glass doors, the weapons of the bounty hunters were arranged neatly and orderly. Machetes, bullwhips, daggers, lasers, man blasters, cuffs, rope, chain and stunners. Shaque placed the sharpened machete in the empty holder and slid the glass closed again.

  His own daggers he wiped clean and rubbed a thin coating of rust proofing over them.

  Ricna glanced over at Abra. “It's about time we headed back and claimed the bounty for the bodies. Freezer units are full."

  "Agreed.” Abra raised his head and looked at Shaque.

  Knowing what he was about to say, but not giving away his thoughts, Shaque looked back at him.

  "I was thinking of heading for Comll.” Abra waited.

  Shaque nodded.

  "We can drop off the bodies, collect the bounty for all in one hit, and then continue on to Daamen to visit Sabra."

  "A bit of a rest, eh?” Nat grunted. “No women on Daamen for us."

  Jarvis gave a bark of laughter. “You even look at one of the Daamen women and those traders will tie you in knots."

  "Like I said, nothing there for me."

  "Sabra is there.” Abra placed his cleaned bullwhip in the weapons cabinet. “We haven't seen her for a while, and she's on Daamen at the moment. She doesn't know for how long, so this might be our only chance to see her for a while."

  Lifting the manblaster he was oiling, Ricna sighted down the barrel to ensure it was clean. “She may be security now, but Sabra was a part of our pack once. She's one of us regardless."

  "I know.” Nat flicked out a rag and dabbed it in a little pot of laser oil. “And I have no problems with visiting that section. I was just making an observation."

  A small flood of warmth went through Shaque at the thought of seeing Sabra once more. Though she was now Security and not a hunter, she would always be the little adopted sister that she'd been to the original pack, back when Cormac had headed it. Back before things had changed so much.

  He looked up and caught the gazes of Ricna and Abra. Reflected in their eyes was the same pleasure he himself felt. They missed Sabra.

  Yes, it would be good to see her again.

  Shaque left the hold and moved up the iron staircase to the living quarters. Walking down the corridor, he went to his cabin. Stripping off his blood-spattered clothes, he showered and dressed in clean clothes.

  About to leave the cabin again, his gaze fell on the photo image stuck on the wall above the viscomm. It mocked him with the rusty stain in the corner, and the dagger cut marring the image.

  Staring at it, he could almost remember that day. How she'd pinched the photo image from the storer and hid it in her room. He'd known, of course, but hadn't said anything.

  She'd been holding it the day she'd been taken. He could still hear the screams, smell the smoke, feel the wet stinging rain from outside coming through the broken door, and hear her screaming his name frantically.

  "Shaque?"

  Taking a deep breath, Shaque turned to the doorway.

  Abra frowned. “Are you okay with going to Daamen?"

  "Of course."

  "Elyse..."

  Elyse. “Could be anywhere.” He hated to say it, but it was true.

  "The packs are sti
ll watching for her."

  Shaque nodded.

  Folding his arms, Abra leaned against the door. “If she's deep in the Outlaw Sector, there's no telling when she'll appear."

  And that was so damned irritating. Especially now.

  Used to Shaque's silences, Abra continued, “A break will do us all good. Collect our bounty, have a rest. Visit Sabra.” A small smile crossed his lips. “Annoy the traders and Reekas."

  "Looking for a fight?” Ricna asked humorously from behind Abra.

  "Maybe not such a bad idea."

  "I've had a beating at the hands of the traders a long time ago, and it's not one I plan on repeating,” Ricna informed him.

  "Coward."

  "Listen, Mohawked Madness, I happen to know that the only reason you bait them even a tiny bit is because you know it annoys them that they have to hold off because of Sabra."

  "That didn't stop the last fight.” Abra smirked.

  Shaque grinned slightly. No, it hadn't stopped the last fight. And no doubt it would have ended up with the hunters being beaten unconscious except for the Daamen peacekeepers stepping in. Most reluctantly, true, but with Sabra breathing fire down their necks, they couldn't look the other way. Then she'd stood there and ripped shreds off them all, both Daamens and bounty hunters alike, with that sharp tongue she wielded so deftly.

  The Daamens had tried to look chastened, but the gleam in their eyes quite clearly told another story. And it certainly hadn't stopped Sabra's husband, Cam, from kissing her into silence.

  Shaque mentally shook his head. The big, curly-haired giant was the only man who had ever been able to handle Sabra.

  In fact, it was a good thing the Daamens were able to handle their wives who all came from such diverse backgrounds. Ex-bounty hunter, warriors, ex-peacekeeper, security, ex-pirate, traitor ... the women were a diverse and deadly lot. But putty in the hands of their overly-doting husbands. Sometimes. The men were definitely putty in the hands of their wives.

  Shaque couldn't imagine a woman meaning so much to him. No woman existed that could bring him to his knees. No woman held his interest...

  His gaze caught the photo image. Well, there was one...

  The dagger slash was obvious.

  The silence in the cabin finally registered with him, and he looked around to find Ricna and Abra watching him closely.

  As usual, he gave nothing of his thoughts away. “I'm hungry.” He strode past them into the passage.

  * * * *

  Standing in the shade of her ship, Elyse studied the handtronic that Brina had given her. She pursed her lips and thought for a few minutes, studying the map on the scrolling screen.

  Brina waited patiently, while Illona tried to look like she was paying attention but was, in fact, eyeing off the pirates at a nearby ship.

  "Avoid the Tron route,” Elyse finally said. “Bounty hunters pass through there regularly. Security has been seen in the Freenon route lately, and the military are using the Veegar route."

  Brina tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Which route would you suggest?"

  "The Aons like to use the heavily travelled routes, so I'd cut them off here.” Elyse traced her fingertip along a blue line. “Come in from the side. The Arionen Belt will scramble the radar enough for you to slip under scanner and attack from the side. Do it fast and hard, and you'll disable the ship."

  Taking the handtronic, the fair-haired pirate captain studied the screen and finally nodded approval. “Sounds good. The pattern they've established will bring them right past the Arionen Belt.” She clapped Elyse on the shoulder. “Thanks."

  Elyse nodded and strode across to the pirate ship beside Brina.

  Jolie, Jevena and Donika waited in the shade of the ramp. Illona trailed along behind, having just made eye contact with a swarthy pirate from the next ship.

  "Oh, pooh,” she moaned. “Can't we stay just a bit longer?"

  "Get over it, you horny slut,” Donika replied mildly.

  "He's cute!"

  "He's got a small dick."

  "How the hell would you know?"

  "I'm just saying, that's all."

  Illona looked back longingly.

  "Just get up into the ship and get it started,” Brina told her. “You can take a cold shower later."

  "Hey, Jolie's the pilot—"

  "Jolie is a little teary."

  "Am not,” the teenager mumbled, then peeked up at Elyse from under her fringe and gave a watery smile. “Sure you don't want to come back to us?"

  Secretly touched that the teen missed her, Elyse gave her a smile and ruffled her hair.

  "Yeah,” Donika said. “Why don't you get a life and come with us?"

  Elyse looked wryly at her.

  "Okay, okay!” Throwing her hands up in the air, Donika rolled her eyes. “Sorry for caring!"

  Brina gave Elyse's shoulder a squeeze. “Stay in contact."

  Elyse nodded.

  Donika gave her a big hug, and when she drew back, there was a sheen in her brown eyes. “You take care, sis."

  "Same to you,” Elyse said quietly.

  She watched while her friends and sister went up the ramp and it closed behind them. Moving back out of the way, she waited as the ship hummed to life and lifted into the air. It hung there for several seconds, then took off abruptly, heading towards Aon and a rich cargo to steal.

  Standing alone in the middle of the busy docking bay, Elyse stared in the direction they'd taken. She did miss her friends and sister, there was no doubt about it, but she wasn't yet ready to make a decision to go back to pirate life. To be honest with herself, it was partly because once she did, she wouldn't be free to visit Sonja, the one friend who knew her even better than Donika did, and even that wasn't completely. No one completely knew her, and it was the way she chose to keep it.

  Until things sorted themselves out and she knew what was happening, she was better alone.

  Heading back towards her own ship, her attention was caught by a small figure running towards her. It was the same girl child that had given her the photo image for Shaque.

  The child skidded to a halt in front of her, her red-rimmed eyes awash with tears and fear. “Did you give the photo image to The Knifer?"

  Studying her, Elyse nodded. What could this child want with the blonde hunter?

  "Can you give him this?” She held out a small package.

  Elyse stared down at her.

  The girl nervously twisted the package between her hands together. “Please?"

  "I'm not your messenger.” She turned away.

  "Please!” The girl ran around to stand in front of her. “I beg of you! This is the last package. Please. Please!” She fell to the ground on her knees, the hem of her ragged dress dragging in the dirt.

  Well, this was new. Elyse eyed her speculatively.

  She felt the chill before a voice murmured from behind her, “How interesting."

  There was no need to glance over her shoulder to know who it was.

  Trembling from fear, but with a determined light in her eyes, the girl held up the package.

  "Why should I?” Elyse asked finally.

  "Don't be so harsh, Elyse.” Fredrico gazed down thoughtfully at the child. “You're going to the Lawful Sector anyway, aren't you?"

  "Doesn't mean I'm a messenger."

  "Aren't you even the least bit curious as to why this child wants anything taken to Shaque?"

  Elyse shook her head. In truth, she really didn't wonder about it at all. Maybe the girl was his by-blow. But even as the thought formed, she dismissed it. Shaque didn't strike her as the kind of man to spread his seed carelessly.

  Then again, what did she know about him? Nothing. Nothing but that little thing between them, that cold knowledge that they'd fought to kill each other, and hadn't succeeded. Unfinished business indeed.

  "Please,” the girl whispered again. “Take it to The Knifer."

  "Maybe I'll do it for you, child,” Fredrico murmured.

&n
bsp; Elyse glanced sideways at him. Now why would he offer?

  The girl looked up at him, her fear tangible in the air.

  "A message in exchange for something you have,” Fredrico continued softly.

  "What would you have of me?” the girl whispered.

  Kneeling down before her, Fredrico cupped her small chin in one hand. His voice was quiet, but the chill in the air intensified. “What will you give?"

  "I have nothing—"

  "Ah. Not true.” His thumb caressed her cheek. “You have something most precious."

  Fury surged through Elyse. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt at the shoulder, she hauled Fredrico upright and swung him around to face her. He came almost too easily, as though expecting her actions.

  "You better not be suggesting what I think you're suggesting,” Elyse gritted out.

  A small smile played around Fredrico's lips. “And what would that be, little mutant?"

  The title surprised her, and being surprised only made her angrier. It off-balanced her, tilted her world, made her shake her head.

  There was the familiar trickle sensation in her nose, and she automatically put her hand up to catch the drop of blood that stained her fingers scarlet. A small drop, a single drop, but one that drew Fredrico's gaze like a magnet.

  Catching her hand, he drew his fingers up her smaller fingers until he caught the drop of blood and held it up. Then he simply looked at her, his gaze so damned knowing.

  Elyse punched him hard in the stomach, the force jack-knifing him over. He hit the ground on his hands and knees, gasping.

  Reaching down, Elyse hauled the girl up, snatched the package from her, and shoved her away. “Go home! Go home and don't look back, do you understand?"

  The girl stumbled back. “Thank you, thank you—"

  "Go home!"

  She ran, her short legs moving fast.

  Elyse watched only until she'd cleared the docking bay before she turned away and started striding back towards her ship, the package clutched in her hand.

  "I know, Elyse."

  Fredrico's words made her stop, and she turned to see him standing, one hand on his stomach, his mouth tight with pain, but his eyes so clear. So cold. So full of warning. And the shadow behind him that wasn't quite there.

  Her own gut clenched, but she showed nothing of her thoughts. “You know jack-shit, Fredrico. Now stay the hell away from me.” She stabbed a finger in his direction. “And stay the hell away from the girl."