Soul of a Predator

by Angela Verdenius

"A couple of outlaws, apparently. They don't want to come peacefully."

  Really? A small smile flickered at the corners of her mouth.

  "Cormac's old pack,” Dana stated with relish.

  Even more interesting.

  Just then came the roar of a manblaster, and a heavy laser beam shattered part of the tavern roof.

  "And there goes Des the Demon,” Dana said with satisfaction. “Right on time."

  The fight came to a shattering halt. The sound of voices shouting orders, and then the deep, rich tones of a woman.

  "Goddamn it, you scurvy bastards! Get the hell down or I'll kick you into next week!"

  "Gotta love that girl's vocabulary,” Oriel said.

  "Des has a lovely language,” Dana agreed with a chortle.

  As they watched, a peacekeeper pursuit craft landed in front of the tavern, and a group of outlaws was herded outside the tavern by hard-faced bounty hunters. Several of the hunters had blood on various parts of their bodies, but the outlaws had fared worse.

  Behind the hunters came two women. One tall, her red hair fastened back in a tight braid. A heavy manblaster was slung nonchalantly over Des's shoulder. Sabra strode confidently by her side, the blonde streak in her brown hair catching the sunlight. They wore the uniforms of Security.

  Elyse smiled slightly. Security. A shadowy form of law enforcement that went where no one else went, who slipped into trouble spots, fixed the problem, and slipped back out with hardly anyone the wiser.

  Interesting lot.

  But her gaze was drawn to the blonde hunter who was sheathing his daggers into the tops of his boots. His hair flowed loosely around his shoulders, and as she watched, he gathered it back with both hands, took the tie Sabra handed him and fastened his hair back.

  Suddenly his head went up, an alertness appearing on his classically handsome features, and as though scenting her in the very air, his gaze swung unerringly in her direction.

  Silently Elyse and Shaque took the measure of each other.

  Taking another bite of her apple, Elyse chewed slowly.

  The dagger in Shaque's other hand flashed around before sliding neatly into the sheath at his waist. His gaze never left Elyse once.

  "Okay,” Dana said. “'Tis official. You two are scarily weird."

  From the corner of her eye, Elyse could see Reya looking from her to Shaque speculatively, though she never said a word. The Reeka warrior leader kept her thoughts to herself, nothing showing on her beautiful, cold features.

  Shaque stepped down from the veranda and crossed the street. Ignoring the women gathered at the veranda rail, he looked directly at Elyse. “Half an hour. My ship."

  "One hour. My ship."

  "Right now, right here, so we can all watch,” Dana suggested, only to curse when Oriel jabbed her in the side. “Damn!"

  Sonja stood stiffly by Elyse's side, one hand hovering near her thigh where a laser was holstered.

  Shaque's gaze bored into Elyse.

  Elyse took another bite of apple and chewed steadily, her own gaze never breaking contact with his winter blue eyes.

  "Freaky,” Dana muttered, then, “Would you stop jabbing me, you little twerp?"

  Oriel muttered something back to her and Dana rolled her eyes.

  "Problem?” A deep voice rumbled behind the women.

  The veranda was suddenly full of muscular giants. They came up behind the women, their stances protective. The Daamen traders didn't like anyone upsetting nor threatening their wenches, be they wives or friends.

  Shaque's gaze never faltered from Elyse.

  "No problem,” Elyse replied.

  Across the street the bounty hunters stiffened, then as one the pack started moving across. Their hands hovered at the whips and machetes fastened at their waists.

  Sabra and Des moved fast, coming between them as the hunters neared the group of Daamen traders, Reeka warriors, ex-solider, ex-pirate and Elyse.

  "Don't bloody start anything, you hot-tempered bastards,” Des warned. “And I do mean all of you."

  Simon, the fair-haired trader and Des's husband, winked at her before returning his attention to Elyse and Shaque.

  The tension in the air was felt by all. The settlers gave the whole group a wide berth, nervously eyeing the heavy builds of the Daamens, the Reeka warriors, and the weapons on the bounty hunters. It wouldn't take much for the situation to get out of hand, and going by Sabra's narrow-eyed look, it could be explosive.

  Now was not the time to have a full-on riot.

  "Our business.” Elyse flipped the apple core into the bin. Stepping down off the veranda, she stood just below eye level with Shaque. “Now. My ship."

  His mouth tightened.

  "Your package is there."

  With a sharp nod, he stepped back.

  Elyse walked up beside him, and they strode away.

  "Elyse?” Sonja called.

  Elyse glanced over her shoulder at her friend, noting Red, her Daamen husband, standing protectively behind her with one big hand on her waist. Sonja looked worried, and Elyse nodded.

  Sonja relaxed a little. “I'll see you back at our ship. Half an hour."

  Knowing Sonja would come looking if she didn't appear at the Daamen ship at the exact time, Elyse nodded again.

  Sonja still looked tense. Red spoke softly to her, but she frowned, not totally at ease.

  Turning back to the front, Elyse strode along beside Shaque. Silently they walked down the street, out of the settlement and into the docking bay. At her ship, she motioned to him to wait, and started forward.

  Shaque grabbed her upper arm, yanking her to a halt. She looked at him with a raised brow.

  He looked narrowly at her.

  "Force field,” Elyse said. “I need to put your body pattern into the security system, or you can't get aboard."

  Releasing her with an abrupt nod, he stood straight and silent.

  Moving up the ramp, she was aware of his cold gaze on her, but with a mental shrug she stepped into the cargo hold. Once in the control cabin, she scanned his body with the ray built into the security camera near the ramp, and entered his body pattern into the security system. It locked into the force field.

  Pressing the intercom, she said, “Come up."

  Crossing to the door, she waited, intensely aware that for the first time in her pirate career, a bounty hunter was now aboard her ship at her invitation. How ironic.

  Shaque appeared in the doorway to the cargo hold, and she led him up the staircase and into the little kitchenette.

  Walking to the table, she picked up the package and turned to find Shaque right behind her. Their eyes met, and she could see herself reflected in the cold depths of his irises.

  His scent assailed her suddenly, fresh and crisp. Masculine. A touch of sweat from the fight, the faintest hint of blood.

  Taking the package from her, he sat down at the little table surprising her. She hadn't expected him to sit.

  Leaning back against the table, she crossed her arms and stared at the far wall, listening to him open the package carefully. No real thoughts passed through her mind as she waited.

  The silence grew thicker, and she glanced sideways to find him staring at three image photos, no expression on his face. Looking back down at the paper that had kept the package together, he picked up a small doll, the clothes old and tattered. The doll was dirty.

  For the first time Elyse saw a flash of emotion on his face, a brief flash of grief. But when he looked back up at her, his emotions were under tight control once again.

  He tossed two of the photo images onto the table. “Do you know anything about these girls?"

  Partially turning around, she picked up the photo images and leaned back against the table again. The first one was of a little girl with blonde hair and winter blue eyes, a cheeky grin on her gamine face, and the resemblance to Shaque was uncanny. The date on the top of the photo image was some years ago.

  Arching one brow in silent query, E
lyse looked at Shaque.

  Shaque's gaze was steady. “My sister."

  Figured. The resemblance was too strong to be anyone else.

  The second photo image made Elyse's gut clench suddenly. A girl with long brown hair and sky blue eyes was holding the hand of the blonde girl.

  It's not possible! It can't be! Seconds pounded past in time to her heart beat as she stared at the image photo. The brown-haired girl. How the hell...?

  * * * *

  Because she was leaning back against the table, and he was sitting at the head of it, Shaque could only see a partial profile of Elyse's face. Not being able to see her expression as she studied the second photo image wasn't telling him anything, but the seconds ticking past as she looked at it was telling enough on its own.

  She knew the other girl pictured with his sister.

  "Who is she?” Shaque asked.

  Taking a deep breath, Elyse handed the photo image back to him. “I don't know."

  "You know."

  Even though she turned her head to look him directly in the eyes, her expression was blank. “No."

  Picking up the photo image, he tossed it at her. She caught it quickly. “Look at it again. It might jog your memory."

  One elegant brow arched. Oh, she was a cool one, he had to give her that. Always had been a cool one. But he'd break that coolness to get the answers he wanted.

  She looked down at the photo image again and those soft lips pursed. “She seems familiar, but I can't place her."

  "You're lying."

  The photo image was flicked back at him. “How old was your sister?"

  "What?"

  "In this photo image, how old was she?"

  A little pang went through him as he looked down at the sober little face that had once been full of laughter and devilment. “She was about seven."

  "And how old would she be now?"

  A muscle jumped in his jaw when he clenched his teeth. “Twenty-six."

  "That image photo would have been taken about nineteen years ago. You think I can remember a child from nineteen years ago?"

  Shaque's eyes narrowed. “You know her."

  "I would have been just a child myself,” she continued bluntly. “The brown-haired girl seems familiar, but that's all."

  He levelled the same hard, cold gaze on her that had caused fidgeting on numerous outlaws. It had no effect on her whatsoever, and she continued to return his gaze blankly.

  The same frustration that plagued him when she'd first given him the slip swamped through him. Pushing to his feet, he moved with calculated steps around the table until he stood toe-to-toe with Elyse, gazing coldly down at her. “You recognized her, and I want to know who she is. Now."

  "Getting your nuts in a knot isn't going to get answers."

  "No?” He leaned closer, close enough to feel her warm breath on his skin, close enough to inhale her fresh, feminine scent.

  She shook her head.

  "I'm not leaving until I have answers, Elyse. Even if I have to shake them out of you."

  Elyse arched one brow in that maddening habit she had.

  "You will tell me."

  Staring gravely back at him, she neither flinched nor gave an inch.

  "I will find out.” Leaning closer, he deliberately crowded her more. “You will tell me."

  Unperturbed, she simply gazed at him, her face expressionless.

  They were so close now that her breasts brushed his chest with every breath she took. Their breaths mingled, and as they stared at each other, he could almost swear he felt the crackle of tension in the air around them.

  Shaque refused to back down. Silently he willed her to answer, to tell what she knew.

  "She seems familiar,” Elyse repeated. “That's all I know."

  "Then try harder."

  Seconds ticked past as he waited with cold determination. The stillness surrounding Elyse, her very calmness, pulled at his control. He found himself wanting to shake her up, both physically and mentally.

  "Tell me,” he grated.

  She shrugged. “I've told you all I know."

  Fury slithered down his spine, and grabbing her upper arms, he jerked her hard against him.

  Annoyance flickered in her eyes for the first time. “Let me go."

  "Not until I get some answers—"

  It didn't take much movement for her to flick the dagger from her wrist sheath into her hand, and place the tip against Shaque's flat abdomen. “Let go."

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn't release her. “I'm not leaving without answers this time, Elyse. And if you mean to carve me up, then be bloody sure I don't get up again, for if I do, I'll be coming after you with everything.” Playing with fire, he gave her a quick shake. “Now tell me!"

  The prick of the dagger blade indented his skin, but Shaque knew she wouldn't gut him. It wasn't her style. Her style was to face him with both of them armed and ready, evenly matched. No, she wouldn't gut him.

  But he didn't expect her to suddenly slam her heel into the back of his knee and shove her weight forward, tipping him back off balance.

  He fell back, but didn't release her, instead pulling her with him. Again she did the unexpected, throwing her weight to the side, but he recognized the ploy immediately and rolled with her.

  Once he was on top of her, he leaned his full weight onto her, breast to chest, hips to hips, and glared down at her.

  The dagger tip was now pressed into his side. Her eyes gleamed up at him, a tinge of red in the brown depths. The feel of her soft curves beneath his harder lines was ... interesting.

  Looking down at her like this was intriguing. The thick brown hair framed her head neatly, and her soft lips were tight. But her eyes held anger and something else he couldn't identify.

  And bugger identifying anything. I'm only interested in one thing—answers.

  "Don't make me hurt you.” The fury in her eyes was at odds with the calmness of her voice.

  "Just tell me."

  "Just let me go."

  "So you can slip away again? I don't think so."

  "I don't cooperate under pressure, hunter."

  Shaque had no doubt about that, but he wasn't about to give up now. Looking down at her, he could see the quiet resolution in her eyes.

  No, Elyse would never cooperate under pressure. Being aggressive wouldn't work with her. He wasn't sure just what would work, because he'd never had to ask someone like her for help. His emotions were torn, and he wasn't thinking straight.

  Elyse was his only link, and if he wasn't careful, she'd be of no help to him.

  Taking a deep breath, he eased his hold on her upper arms, and this time he forced a calmness he wasn't feeling into his voice. “I need to know what you know, Elyse. That's all I'm asking."

  "I've told you all that I know,” she replied quietly. “I can tell you if I remember anything else, but I need time to try and remember. But if you don't let me up, you get jack-shit. Now get off me."

  Placing his hands flat on the floor, he levered himself up off her and started to roll away. He saw the flicker in her eyes too late to save himself from her elbow, which slammed into his jaw with enough force to throw him sideways.

  Pain exploded, but he rolled swiftly, coming up in a crouch, hands braced on the floor in preparation for launching into a protective attack, only to see Elyse already walking back to the table.

  His jaw throbbed and he swore to himself at being careless enough not to watch the vicious ex-pirate closely.

  Ignoring him, Elyse slipped the dagger into her wrist sheath and leaned across the table to gather up the two photo images. The jacket she wore lifted with her movements, and Shaque was treated to a back view of her tight, rounded buttocks and long legs in the skin-tight pants she wore.

  Pain might have been in his jaw, but a pang of another kind hit him low down in his male regions.

  Who knew he was sick enough to be turned on by the savage half-mutant who'd just given him pain as a sh
arp reminder not to turn his back on her?

  Straightening, he followed her to the table, watching her closely. Warily.

  Handing the photo images and doll to him, Elyse said in a dangerously low voice, “Whatever I remember, I'll tell you. Now get lost."

  His eyes narrowed. “Going to run again?"

  "I'm visiting my friend, hunter. You don't scare me enough to make me run."

  Holding the photo image of the two young girls up in front of her, he said softly, “You better remember something soon, Elyse. I'm running out of patience."

  "And you better remember that I don't run at all."

  The words hung heavy in the air between them. They looked at each other steadily, cold fury pumping beneath their cool, calm exteriors.

  Cold fury and something else. Something darker, heavier. Something neither of them wanted to explore.

  "I'll see you on Daamen,” he promised her softly, and swinging around on his heel, he strode out of the cabin, down the corridor and out of the ship.

  Frustrated he might be but he was patient, too. Plus, he had another plan. Elyse was Sonja's best friend, and if Elyse recognized the brown-haired child, she almost certainly would, too.

  A quick glance around the docking bay showed the Daamen traders readying the ship to leave, a group of the giants loading the last of some cargo aboard.

  He didn't have to look to know Elyse was behind him. She passed him without a word and strode to the trading ship. Several of the traders looked up to greet her, and even from the distance separating the ships, he could feel their guarded looks towards him.

  Elyse's back was straight, her stride long, as she closed the distance between herself and the Daamen ship. Sonja appeared on the ramp, and called something out to her. Elyse didn't answer, but held up one hand.

  Shaque cursed beneath his breath. Elyse would talk to Sonja, and then it would be too late for him.

  Sabra appeared next on the ramp, her gaze going directly to him. Then again ... Shaque smiled. Then again...

  * * * *

  More than aware of Sonja's speculative glances on the Daamen ship, and again when she met her at the docking bay on Daamen, Elyse bided her time until the right moment presented itself.

  There was no doubt Shaque would question Sonja about the photo image. There was no doubt that Sonja wouldn't reveal anything. But still, Elyse wanted a private place to talk to her.