Then Collins looked somewhere over her head and blanched.
She didn’t know him well but paling to chalk white was never a good sign.
Was it?
* * * * *
“So this is the one who’s stealing my clients? That’s ‘Ballistic Kim’?”
Titan watched the purple-haired girl flash a few dance moves that would trigger sprinkler systems on half the station. She then climbed the stairs to the mezzanine with enough attitude for three, the statuesque woman tailing her smelling of professional bodyguard even from where he sat. When head breaking started, he’d go for her first.
His informant nodded, his three eyes blinking arrhythmically, which drove Titan crazy. Couldn’t the thing synchronize its own eyes?
“A fucking doll with purple hair is selling weapons to my clients, right under my nose?” Titan ground his teeth.
As though his anger had caused a smell, the little Mers backed away, waving a hand in front of his face. “I receive payment now, human.”
The high-pitched voice just about made Titan want to rush out of his chair and throw the alien over the goddamn railing. His suit jacket opened against his pectorals when he reached behind and slid a plastic strip out of his pants back pocket. The array of custom-made weapons at his waist, all matte black to go with his moods and outfits, occupied the Mers’ gaze for quite some time.
Titan snarled and the alien took the plastic strip and left. His titanium canine tooth always did the trick when his eyes couldn’t convey a quick and violent death fast enough for them.
Some people just didn’t get it when they’d been dismissed.
As he watched his competitor’s progress up the stairs and across the mezzanine, he couldn’t help but admit she had the nicest ass he’d seen in a long time. His dick thought so too and came up to watch.
Down, boy. When I’m through with that bird, there won’t be anything left but a bunch of feathers.
She sat right close to Collins—that lying sack of shit—and pretended to be amused by the fat man’s insipid humor. Titan rolled his eyes when she plastered on the fakest, toothiest smile on the station. No easy feat, considering Land’s End counted more whores, escorts and gigolos than a plastic surgeon’s waiting room. At least, she didn’t have fake boobs. He could tell. She’d squished those babies up tight and high. Just like he loved them. Nice and firm and planted high on the chest. Cute face too, come to think of it. Narrow and pointy with a sharp nose and large, dark eyes. Her hair looked high-maintenance but suited her well.
He shook his head.
What the hell was wrong with him, appraising her like that? All that orange latex was getting to his head. He’d better get moving before he started drooling like an idiot.
Titan stood, circled the table in the corner of the bar near the DJ’s glass cubicle and cleaved a wide swath through the dancing crowd. People seemed to melt away in front of him. As they should, if they wanted to keep all their teeth!
Muttering under his breath the entire time, Titan reached the stairs and looked up just in time to spot Ballistic Kim’s dark-haired companion leaning over the balustrade and scanning the place with the practiced eye of a veteran. Too late he looked away from her.
She’d spotted him.
After arching an eyebrow in a way that let him know this was a woman not to be messed with, she disappeared above the railing.
Fuck. So much for the element of surprise.
By the time he reached the crowded mezzanine, Collins was staring over Ballistic Kim’s head through the apertures among the pressed bodies and directly at him. The tall woman was nowhere to be found. Some bodyguard.
As though she felt the menace coming her way, his competitor twisted in her seat, and to his immense delight, didn’t even need to scan the crowd to spot him. Titan stared at her while he marched to her table.
Damn, she’s even cuter up close.
What he’d first thought was plastic surgery and makeup turned out to be the real deal. Those shiny cheekbones hadn’t been messed with, neither had that straight, narrow nose and those luscious lips, save for a thick coat of something very shiny that changed colors depending on the angle. It made her look like she’d eaten something incredibly juicy. She didn’t wear any color on her eyelids, something he abhorred to the highest degree.
The large, dark eyes flared even wider as she stared back at him. For some reason he’d rather not dwell on right then, Ballistic Kim didn’t look the expensive doll he’d initially thought she was…only a very cute woman with smarts that shined through those killer eyes. No need to step knee-deep in it to know he was in shit.
“So,” he said, looking at Collins and using his “you’re in so much shit you could drown” voice, “that’s who you’ve been fucking with while I was waiting at home, dear.”
Collins tried to talk but nothing coherent or intelligible came out. He pointed at the strip of plastic on the woman’s arm, shrugged then fell silent, as he ought to have done in the first place. Idiot.
Looking down at Ballistic Kim and extending his hand, Titan grinned, making sure to angle his smile just right so she’d see the metal tooth. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Titan Harris, the guy you’ve just screwed with for the first and last time.”
Well, fuck, she didn’t even look impressed, just kind of flushed and twitchy. She reached for his hand, faltered, got some nerves and firmly clasped it.
Like a bolt of electricity had zapped him in the balls, Titan gritted his teeth and tried not to flinch at the pain in his chest. Where the fuck had this come from?
“Nice to meet you, Mister Titan Harris,” she quipped mockingly. Laughing at his name had always been a crime punishable by a good pounding, even back as a kid.
Colored beams of light hit her glossy lips at just the right angle. He could’ve stared at that mouth all night.
Too bad he’d have to mess it all up.
Instead of releasing her hand, something any gentleman would’ve done by now, Titan only accentuated the pressure. He was many things but not a gentleman.
To her credit, she didn’t flinch. “I’m sure we can do business without turning into total Cro-Magnons.”
Total Cro-Magnons? She—the girl was half his size—was insulting him, calling him a caveman?
“I’m not here to do business,” he replied, forcing her to her feet and closer to him. A fruity smell wafted up and diverted his chain of thought for a second, as did the shiny latex straining over her slim body. His hard-on tightened painfully.
He wondered what she’d feel like up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist while he pushed in deep. Tight and hot, he was sure of it. And from the way he’d seen her move on the dance floor as she crossed it, she’d give a hell of a performance to the lucky guy who would manage to bypass the bodyguard.
She looked up into his face, seemed to note the resolve there, and smiled a lopsided one that nearly had him shaking his head. Glitter scintillated in a very tempting fashion when she grinned. Hot damn, all this and attitude too.
“I think you should let my hand go, Mister Titan Harris.” Something flashed green on the decoder strapped to her forearm. He couldn’t see what it was. Didn’t much care either.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be able to drag your little ass outside to…discuss a few things.”
“We can talk right here,” she countered.
Energy fizzed in his veins as he leaned a bit closer to her. Any other time he wouldn’t have minded slapping her latex-covered butt just to enjoy the sound, and even wondered if they made such suits with strategically placed access panels, but not tonight. He had to focus. It was hard enough to do so already without the images dancing in his head about her shiny, orange ass between his hands and his dick nicely sheathed between her legs.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one of Collins’ goons making a move for the piece strapped at his waist. Why would anyone leave a weapon where everybody could see? Morons.
>
They weren’t even guns, only those sissy plastic things shooting electroactive nanocrap. He preferred real guns with real bullets that made real holes. Much more satisfying than watching people do the bacon dance while electricity coursed through their body. Plus, with those stunners, he never got to make it last. People usually just passed out. How the hell was he supposed to learn anything from passed-out informants? Nothing compared to gunpowder. Stunners? Please.
Progress my ass.
A split second later, he drew his own gun, extended his arm in a straight line, fired three rapid shots, one for each moron’s forehead and the last for the boss.
Boom, boom and boom, goddammit.
After a small jerk and some red liquid action, Morons Number One and Two sank beneath crowd level while Collins howled in pain and collapsed on the table, his shoulder a mass of pomegranate-colored shredded flesh.
The shots drowned even the thunderous music. Pandemonium broke out.
Ballistic Kim pulled against his grip, even managed to unbalance him. Surprising little thing. It was just too bad really that he wouldn’t get to know her better.
“You’re coming with me.” He dragged her toward the back door, slammed her against it while he turned to make sure no one got any ideas about the back of him. People could be so damn sneaky.
Besides the usual screaming and running in aimless zigzags, no one made a move toward them. Keeping his fist around her slender wrist, he kicked the steel door open and pushed her in.
Sounds reached the narrow corridor muffled and distorted, as if he’d just gotten a hit of something very potent. Kind of like when he used to do hard meds, back in his stupid years as cocky bouncer. When painkillers had stopped working against the fight-induced migraines, he’d turned to harder meds. Good thing he’d gotten himself kicked out of his bouncer’s job, otherwise he would’ve kept on getting into fights, get stitched back together then repeat the process. Night after night for almost ten years. No way to live, really. He was older now, more mature. No more forays into the pharmaceutical world. He’d remain in the arms-dealing business where it was nice and safe.
“So, Ballistic Kim, want to tell me how much Collins pays for your services?”
A sharp clack resounded in the confined space before he’d even realized she’d slapped him. Ouch, shit.
“I’m not a whore, you jackass.”
If eyes could kill, man, he could be a cat with nine lives and still be very dead right now.
“Don’t be so damn bitchy, woman, I only meant your profit margin. How much did you make tonight, you know ‘cause I’m trying to see if selling you and your ship is worth it or not.”
Horror filled her eyes. Titan could’ve patted himself on the back. Nothing pumped his chest like finding someone’s buttons right away. Too bad in this case, it also triggered a serious case of the guilt trip. Now wasn’t the time to show a soft spot for a competitor. She’d invaded his turf, had stolen his client and would pay his price. No way around it. Same rule applied for everyone. Otherwise it got confusing.
Yeah, tell that to my dick.
When he pressed her against the wall and used his…oh what, eighty pounds on her to keep the lithe woman there, she must have felt his “enthusiasm” for a perfectly plucked eyebrow arched way up.
“You’re a strange man.”
Titan shrugged. “My job’s exciting. What can I say?”
The thing was, he never, ever, got excited during a job. He usually stayed home on his cloaked asteroid, tinkering in his warehouse and avoided human contact as much as he could—humankind was such a nasty species sometimes—and made sure the shipments got where they were supposed to be. When trouble poked it profit-gnawing little head, he’d get his ship, take care of the problem and go back home to clean his guns. There’d never been any of that mental screwing going on like right then. He’d never pointed his gun and his dick at someone before. He usually did one or the other. Not both. Trouble there.
A crooked smile pulled her luscious lips to one side. She shook her head then leaned it against the wall.
That was when he should’ve put a bullet in her head and cleared the deck. His brain and instinct kept telling him to. But the thing was, something else controlled his body…and it wasn’t necessarily his dick, as he would’ve suspected—although it played a large, a HUGE part, thank you very much.
“Are you always so charming, Mister Titan?” she asked, her tone half mocking, half serious.
A deadly combination in a cute girl like her.
The Cro-Magnon in him surfaced. “You’re not seeing my very best side, Ballistic Kim, and that’s too bad ‘cause I think you’d like me a lot.”
His index finger retreated from the trigger. He never, ever, ever, did that. That was dumb. Idiotic. And it invited trouble and lots of pain. Stupid hormones.
Ballistic Kim cocked her head to one side as though she tried to see him from a different angle. Did she like what she saw, he wondered, and hated himself for it. “It’s too bad we can’t come to an agreement,” she said.
“Yeah, too bad.”
“Yeah. Are you going to shoot me?”
“Not sure. I’m still tossing the idea around.”
“And?”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
She laughed.
Titan’s carefully controlled reactions betrayed him. He was leaning into her for a kiss before he’d had time to mentally say “hey!”
And her lips were as soft they looked too.
Sounds from the club suddenly spiked behind him as if someone had honked a horn.
Shit.
White-hot pain erupted behind his knees. He collapsed onto one, losing his grip on the girl’s hand. Ah, the bodyguard hadn’t left after all.
“Get to the ship, Kim, and don’t wait for me,” a woman with an accent snarled from behind him.
While he turned and lunged after her, Ballistic Kim charged back into the club and across the mezzanine like an orange and purple koi through water.
Snarling curses under his breath, Titan faced the tall woman standing a few paces back, tapping a telescopic baton lightly against her muscled thigh.
She backpedaled into the club where people were still pushing and shoving to get out of the way. She was probably going to use them as distraction. Smart woman.
“Sorry, hombre, but this is going to hurt.”
And it did.
He barely had time to cringe before she struck his wrist. The gun went flying.
Only Titan didn’t give the dangerous woman a third chance. He crouched low under her swipe and kicked out. She jumped but didn’t completely avoid his foot. Out of balance, she fell to one knee, taking a table and its patrons with her. Drinks spilled and crashed to the floor.
The churning crowd screamed and shoved, and soon, people three thick separated him from the bodyguard. Just like I thought. Dammit.
He shoved bystanders aside, cursing his blind spot, and nearly got himself another tooth knocked out when the narrow end of a black baton flew for his face. He parried with his forearm a split second before it hit. Knowing a professional when he saw one, Titan pulled out all the stops.
He leaped and kicked the person behind whom the woman stood, sending both crashing into tables and chairs. With a snarl, he sifted through the limbs, caught the one he wanted, grabbed a fistful of clothes and hoisted. Despite some serious strikes to his abdomen—the woman could punch—he yanked her to her feet, twirled her hard and let go.
Someone screamed as she windmilled frantically before toppling over the balustrade and down onto the dance floor some twelve feet below. The good thing with really tall people is that they fell easier.
Titan didn’t spare a look for her or the tangle of bodies that had softened her fall as he retrieved his gun then rushed down the steps four by four.
Outside, he sprinted for the docks, knowing her ship was moored at the very last station, right beside his own. His connections had made sure of t
hat. His black suit plastered against his body as he devoured the ground, people dove aside to give him room. They must have recognized his ship and its prow-to-stern black finish. Folks must have known Titan Harris was in town.
A flash of purple and orange caught his eye. Fuck, she was much farther than he’d anticipated. He watched stupefied as she cleared the hundred meter long gangway with enough speed to make a Yithian jealous. The hatch opened right away. She hadn’t disappeared inside her ship for a second that its main thruster began to glow.
She wasn’t going to power up right there alongside?
Was she?
“Shit!”
And how had she managed to do that while still running? Titan skidded to a halt. Remote-controlled…? Who the hell could rig a whole fucking ship for remote control?
He flinched when her ship released its clamps, broke all protocols by powering up through the force field barely a hundred feet off the dock and turning. Turning!
“That little…”
Titan could only watch in mute rage as Ballistic Kim brought her ship about, struck his along the way, creating a godawful sound. He couldn’t get to his cruiser now, not with the crazy woman aiming her ship’s ass his way. Heat was already getting a tad too high even there on the walkway.
Main thruster blazing now, she must have gunned the engines for all three boosters flashed white and the ship’s prow bent the force field, which triggered the alarm and mass chaos. Someone up in the tower finally had the presence of mind to clear her for takeoff. Not that the woman was waiting for it.
A section of force field dissipated and through it the maverick ship zipped through, all thrusters blazing, taking his competitor out of his reach…temporarily, anyway.
Titan backed a few steps. His fists clenched and unclenched with each mental image of what he’d do to her when he caught her.
Oh but she would pay for this.
That, and for making a fool of him, for slicing inside his defenses like a blade through the crook of an arm. Man, did he feel like a moron right then.
First, he had to get back to the Flashpoint and start getting straight answers. He’d start with Collins, knowing the female bodyguard was either long gone or, if she wasn’t, wouldn’t say a damn word despite his skill. And he didn’t have time to spare on the woman. Ballistic Kim could already be opening jump points to anywhere in the system.
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