Soul of a Predator

by Angela Verdenius

  The man looked startled, then downright scared. He shoved the tavern wench off his lap, ignoring her outraged shriek when her bottom hit the floor. Glancing around desperately, he bit his lip before looking back at Elyse.

  Lifting the glass to her lips, she took a delicate sip while keeping her gaze pinned to the man.

  Eyes narrowed while studying the couple, Shaque lowered the mug of ale to the table and broke off a bit more cake. Interest spiked, curiosity welling up, Shaque looked at the man.

  He couldn't place him, didn't remember his face. And he couldn't tell if it was friend or foe because Elyse looked her usual calm self. She spoke softly to the man, and he in turn swallowed and shook his head.

  Creed looked back over his shoulder. “Seems your little mutant has found herself a playmate."

  "Her playmate looks shit scared,” Kerey added. Pulling out a handtronic, he started to tap in data. “Can't say I recognize him."

  The young man started to push his chair back, and Shaque broke off another piece of cake and brought it to his mouth without removing his gaze from the couple. Elyse said something, and the man pulled his chair back in again.

  The man looked scared, all right. The kind of look an outlaw had when faced with a pack of hunters just itching to bring him back dead rather than alive.

  "Got a name?” he asked Kerey.

  "No.” The scarred hunter slipped the handtronic back into his jacket pocket. The hunters watched unashamedly as Elyse continued to speak to the man. The man shook his head again.

  "You and Elyse travelling together,” Creed said quietly, glancing briefly at Shaque. “Searching for your sister, so I hear from Abra."

  Shaque didn't answer.

  "He told us to keep an eye out for you."

  "No need.” But Shaque wasn't surprised. The hunters didn't trust Elyse. Then again, he didn't either.

  "Sort of curious as to why you and she have hooked up."

  Obviously Abra hadn't told them everything, which was fine by Shaque. Finding his sister was private. Then again...

  Pulling the photo image from his pocket, he spread it flat and handed it to Creed. “You know my sister disappeared years ago."

  "Taken by space pirates.” Creed nodded. “But why is she with Elyse?” He peered closer. “And why does Elyse have blue eyes here? Her eyes are brown."

  "That photo image has been aged. It was originally small. Like this one.” He took the smaller image from his pocket as well, flattened it out and handed it to Creed. “Elyse doesn't remember Nerissa. Her sister Donika does. I want to find Nerissa. Elyse wants to find her to discover some things from her past. Do you remember seeing the grown-up version of Nerissa?"

  Frowning and shaking his head, Creed passed the two photo images to Kerey, who also shook his head. Pocketing the photo images again, Shaque looked back at Elyse.

  The man with the bad skin was talking rapidly to her, his hand dipping into his jacket.

  Shaque stiffened, his gaze searching Elyse's face, but she didn't seem alarmed. Then he caught the glint the laser barrel just at the edge of the table. She'd drawn it and was partially hiding it behind the table. The man gestured vehemently and drew something from his pocket, which he handed over to Elyse.

  Taking it from him, she glanced briefly at it before slipping it into the inside pocket of her jacket. Without another word, she stood up and left the man, who scowled after her before tossing down the last of his drink and gesturing to the tavern wench for a refill.

  The tavern wench stuck her finger up at him and walked right past.

  Muttering, the man slouched in the chair and sulked.

  This time, Elyse took a chair at a corner table in the room and sat with her back to the wall. Taking something from her pocket, she slipped it into her ear and started speaking quietly. A smile curved her full lips, and she looked straight over at Creed. Amusement gleamed in her eyes.

  Shaque didn't know whether to laugh or scowl. The witch was in contact with her pirate friends, he just knew it. Just as he knew she was informing them of the bounty hunter pack sitting at his table. Just as he knew that she was well aware that he was watching.

  Her gaze travelled leisurely around the room, taking in who was present. She spoke a bit more, lifting her glass to her lips to sip unconcernedly as she listened. Her brow arched in that familiar way and she looked back at the man with the bad skin.

  He took one look at her and paled.

  She looked steadily back at him for several seconds, then away again.

  He slumped back in his chair before obviously deciding it was time to leave, for he got up and hurried to the door.

  Slipping the communicator from her ear, Elyse re-pocketed it and leaned back in the chair, relaxed. The bartender came over with a plate of steaming food, and she thanked him and started eating.

  "Who do you think she was talking to?” Kerey queried.

  "No doubt her no-good friends.” Creed scowled. “I just know she's one of the reasons those space pirates have managed to avoid the traps we've set. We see Elyse and no pirates turn up."

  The woman really liked to live dangerously. Shaque finished off his cake, wondering what she'd got from the man with the bad skin, and determined to find out when he was alone with her.

  "So, you're searching for your sister,” Creed said. “How far into the Outlaw Sector?"

  "As far as I need to go."

  "Stupid. There're a heap of outlaws and space pirates further in that would love to get their hands on a bounty hunter."

  Shaque shrugged.

  "You think Elyse is going to protect you?"

  "I don't need protection. I just need what she can give me."

  Kerey's brows shot up. “Really?"

  "Not what you're thinking, you deviant bastard.” Shaque downed the last of his ale. “She knows the Outlaw Sector, she has contacts, and I need her knowledge."

  "And she has outlaws who are scared of her and others who are her friends.” Creed wagged one finger. “You need her protection."

  Shaque shrugged again. It was kind of true. Without her, not only would he find out nothing, but he'd be strung up within days. He did need her, just as she needed him.

  Though did she really need him now? He looked back over at her. She could ditch him, she had the information she needed. It wasn't as though she needed him, really.

  Sobering thought.

  Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he studied her. She made a formidable foe and a loyal friend. If you were her friend. Which he wasn't.

  "Yeah.” Creed looked at him. “Still sure you want to go through with this?"

  "Nerissa,” was all Shaque said.

  "Okay. Just remember, if you need us, send out the call and we'll come. Doesn't matter where you are, somehow we'll get help to you."

  Shaque looked at him. “I appreciate that."

  "Packs stick together.” Creed lifted his cup of hot una in salute. “Here's to answers."

  The talk turned to general hunting business. Shaque worked his way through a plate of hot food and a cold drink of apple juice. One thing he'd learned a long time ago was never to over imbibe drink unless you were in friendly and secure territory. The outskirts of the Outlaw Sector certainly didn't qualify as friendly territory.

  Creed was just getting into a chat about a new scanning system they were thinking of getting when a disturbance started near the door. Looking over, they saw that a scuffle was breaking out.

  It was a scuffle that threatened to erupt into an all-out brawl. Not wanting to get involved, Shaque stood up and looked towards Elyse. Not surprisingly, she was still sitting at the table, her chair back against the wall, balanced on the two back legs. Her own legs were stretched out, her arms folded across her stomach as she watched the fight start to get into full swing.

  "I think it's time to go,” Shaque said. “So long, Creed."

  "See you later,” Creed returned.

  Shaque moved towards Elyse's table as the crowd started to swe
ll even more. Alarm coursed through him when her head suddenly jerked up and she straightened in her chair, the front legs falling forward to hit the floor. Tipping her head slightly on the side, she stared at the fighting men, and pushed to her feet.

  That certainly didn't look good.

  Even as Shaque started to move faster, the swelling crowd engulfed him, and for several seconds he lost sight of Elyse. By the time he'd pushed through the crowd, narrowly dodging a fist, he caught sight of her. Aw, crap.

  Now on her feet, she had her head up as though scenting the very air. Swinging her head from side to side, she seemed to be searching for something or someone. Her hand slid to the dagger sheathed at her waist.

  Someone had caught her attention. She was sensing someone in the fighting throng of people.

  A chair shot past Shaque's head and he swore as the whole tavern exploded into a brawl. Now he was punching his way through the crowd, using his elbows and boots indiscriminately.

  Elyse disappeared from sight as a fist smashed against his jaw.

  Cold fury burned through Shaque, along with his need to keep her in sight. He had no choice now but to fight or go under. So he fought while trying to continue towards the last place he'd seen her.

  He'd downed several of the patrons before he caught sight of Elyse. She was looking right at him. Her eyes held a gleam of red.

  Goddamn! Don't go mutant on me now!

  He half expected her to leap for him and mentally readied himself, but instead she swung around, her other hand grabbing a man about the throat and hurling him almost effortlessly back into the brawling heap of tavern patrons.

  Laser fire from the street alerted him to the fact that peacekeepers were heading towards the tavern, but he didn't know how far away they were. He did know that he needed to get to Elyse.

  A sudden gap in the crowd gave him the opportunity to dive through and he couldn't believe his good fortune when he found himself behind her.

  Stepping back cautiously, one hand at the laser strapped to his thigh, he said, “Elyse."

  She was so still, standing on the edge of the fighting crowd with her head up. Without moving her body, she turned her head slowly to the side to glance at him over her shoulder. Her eyes gleamed a dull red. There was very little of the whites of her eyes left, and her black pupils looked eerie.

  "Elyse?” He took a step closer.

  "Something's here.” The words were hushed.

  "What?” He took another step forward, still cautious.

  One of the brawlers turned to Elyse, his fist raised, but just as Shaque was ready to launch himself at the man, the brawler took one look at Elyse's eyes, blanched and fell back into the fighting crowd.

  Shaque touched her arm, his other hand ready to block any blow she might try to aim at him.

  "Something's here.” She took a deep breath. “Can't you feel it?"

  "What do you feel?” He pulled her back slightly. “Elyse?"

  In a movement so abrupt it caught him by surprise, she swung around to face him, her expression as frozen as ice. “Can you smell it?"

  "I see nothing but brawlers.” Reaching down, he encircled her wrist with his hand. “Come with me now before someone notices your eyes."

  "My eyes?"

  "Damn it, Elyse, they're red."

  A laser blast sounded and the brawlers started to yell and curse, stumbling back. Several turned and started to fight their way towards the back door.

  Peacekeepers pushed their way into the tavern. There was no way out. If they saw Elyse's eyes, there'd be awkward questions, and if it got back to the Intergalactic Peace Council...

  Spotting the storeroom door behind the bar, Shaque pointed to it.

  Mutely Elyse nodded, and as one they leaped over the bar, knocking bottles and glasses out of the way. Dropping behind the bar, Shaque crawled over to the door, Elyse behind him. Pushing open the door, he went through. She followed, shutting it securely behind her.

  Straightening, he studied the room quickly. Apart from barrels and crates, the storeroom was empty. There were no windows and the outside door was locked. From the other side of the door came voices, the sound of someone checking the lock.

  Turning around to Elyse, Shaque looked into her red eyes. There was something about her stance, an alertness as though she were trying to scent something.

  "Elyse, what the hell is wrong?” Warily he watched her.

  "I could feel something.” Reaching up, she touched beneath one eye. “Are they still...?"

  "Red? Yeah.” He looked grimly down at her. “How do you feel?"

  "Like something is out there.” Still with one hand on the handle of the sheathed dagger at her waist, she rolled her shoulders and took several deep breaths.

  Voices sounded nearer, the yelling dying down.

  "Check the storeroom,” a voice ordered. “I want all troublemakers rounded up."

  "Peacekeepers.” Shaque glanced around once more. “If they see your eyes, we're in deep shit."

  "There's nowhere to hide,” Elyse said bluntly.

  There wasn't, but as Shaque looked at her he knew there was one thing they could try. He couldn't believe he was actually thinking about it, but then again, he refused to dwell on it, either.

  "Follow my lead,” he said, and grabbing her around the waist, pushed her back against the wall and stepped in front of her, blocking her from view of the doorway with his body.

  "What are you doing?” Her eyes widened as he leaned into her and bent his head. “Shaque, what the hell—"

  "Don't fight me,” was all he had time to say before the door knob clicked.

  He pressed his lips to hers. Holding her face in his hands, it would look to any observer as though he was cradling her face in a lover's hold, when in fact he was keeping a firm hold to stop her pulling her face away. He could see his reflection in the red depths of her eyes before her thick eyelashes lowered to hide her eyes from sight.

  She slid one arm around his neck, her hand which was out of sight she kept on the handle of the dagger sheathed at his waist under his jacket. Pressing into him, she kissed him back.

  To the peacekeepers coming in, it would look like two lovers having a little rendezvous in the storeroom. To Shaque...

  "No fights in here,” an amused voice stated. “Far from it."

  Dimly he heard the door shut. His whole focus was on the woman in his arms, and the magic of her mouth.

  Goddamn, Elyse could kiss!

  Her lips were soft, moving against his in soft but firm brushes, moulding to his, her tongue slipping out to trace the seam of his lips, and all he could do was open to her.

  The kiss deepened, and his hands gentled on her cheeks. His fingers slid around to push into the thick tresses, cradling her head rather than restraining her. His body relaxed, sinking into hers, allowing her to feel his weight against her softer, smaller frame. Bent over her, he angled his head to allow him to explore her mouth with ease.

  She tasted of berry juice, the drink she'd had with her meal. The floral scent that was so uniquely hers drifted up to tantalize his senses. His blood started to thicken, his loins to stir. Every sip of her lips, every flick of his tongue deep in the hot, sweet recesses of her mouth, stoked the flames inside him a little more.

  He felt a shift in her, more aggression as her hand moved from the handle of his dagger to slide around his waist under his jacket, her palm warm through his shirt. Her hand slid up his back, fingers pressing and kneading the muscles along his spine.

  Whereas before she'd allowed him to kiss her, now she started to kiss him back. Harder. More demanding. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and he could feel her softer curves against the harder planes of his body.

  Her aggression fed his, and he kissed her back more forcefully while reaching behind him for her hand. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her hand away and almost slammed it back against the wall, holding her wrist pinned against the wood. He did the same to her other hand, yanking it fr
om around his neck to pin against the wall on the other side of her head.

  Not once did he break the contact of their lips. Now he bent over her, pressed into her, pinning her back against the wall at his mercy.

  Elyse was having none of it, arching forward, one leg hooking behind his leg, the heel of her boot skimming along his calf.

  The door swung open and a deep voice barked out, “Shaque, it's all clear. You can both—oh stars...” There was a second of silence and then the door slammed shut.

  It was loud enough to make both Elyse and Shaque open their eyes and stare at each other. Their breathing was heavy, warm puffs of moist air on each others mouths.

  Her eyes were brown. The thought swept through his mind. Big and brown and...

  "It worked,” she said abruptly.

  "What?” Still caught up in the desire running through him, the shock of how much he did desire her right then, Shaque actually blinked.

  "Your plan.” She tugged on her hands. “Let go."

  Your plan. It all came back in a rush of cold clarity. He released her wrists fast, stepping back and giving her space. Giving himself space. His mind still whirled with what had happened between them.

  Stepping to the side, Elyse said calmly, “Are my eyes back to normal?"

  "Normal?” Mentally giving his head a shake, Shaque added, “Yes. They're brown now."

  "And the peacekeepers didn't notice.” Crossing to the door, she opened it and strode out to the bar.

  Catching a glimpse of Creed standing at the bar looking back at him with a quizzical expression, Shaque remembered what had made reality come crashing back to himself and Elyse, and he groaned. Creed must have seen them kissing.

  Seven

  Yeah, his plan had worked, but he still couldn't figure out how he could have possibly forgotten everything ... and why he'd gotten so carried away.

  Standing just outside the doorway to the little dining cabin, Shaque drew in a deep breath. That was Elyse he'd kissed. Elyse. Part mutant, ex-space pirate and his nemesis. They had a past that they would face in the future, and there could only be one outcome.