Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  Kiri pressed her hand against the smooth leather of his coat, trembling with the effort not to shove at him. "I told you, I'm with Stark now." Not for much longer, but Tal needn't know that.

  His hands tightened. "He's out whoring and you'll stay with him anyway? I thought you had more spine than that?"

  "I have plenty of spine," she said coldly. "I don't have to share my reasons with you, Tal."

  "He's cheating on you. I wouldn't," he ground out, almost unwillingly.

  She laughed, a cynical burst of humor. "Yes, you would, Tal. You're just like him, on to the next woman that catches your eye, using your credit to get what you want. You'd be faithful for about five secs."

  For one terrified moment, she feared he was going to strike her or even strangle her. His crystal eyes blazed into hers. "I could make you beg."

  The slider swayed and turned under them. The glowlamps flickered across the hard plains of his face and on the ebony gloss of his braids, on the metal studs on his jacket.

  Kiri forced her voice through dry lips, her heart pounding. "Yeah, but we both know you don't need to. Women are all over you. Beautiful women."

  He glowered at her for a long moment. But then he laughed his strange, whispering laugh, and his grip relaxed. "You're right, starry girl, on both counts. I can have as many as I want at one time. Hooray for me."

  He stroked her cheek again, something like regret in his gaze. "So, if you're not gonna be my lady, gonna have to do something else with you. Not safe."

  Kiri jerked against his grip, terror slicing through her. "What are you talking about? Not safe? Tal, what have you done?"

  His heavy brows drew together. "Somebody's angry with you, girl. Angry enough to want you gone ... for good."

  "What? No," she choked, fighting him now in earnest. He hadn't brought her here to seduce her at all—like Stark, he'd only been toying with her.

  She clawed at his face, struck warm skin and dug her nails in before he grabbed her wrist. With her other hand she scrabbled in her jacket pocket for the shocker, but as her fingers closed around it, something pricked the side of her throat. Ice spread, sheeting across her vision, so she was stared at him through it, unable to reach him, or move.

  "I'm sorry, star baby." Tal cradled her close. She guessed he couldn't feel the chill. "So quarking sorry. You should've chosen me. I would've kept you safe."

  Then the ice thickened and locked out everything but the slow pounding of her heart, until even that faded into blackness.

  Logan ...

  Chapter 30

  Stark stood before the windows in his penthouse, Rak's holovid image hovered before him. Outside rain lashed against the windows, the lights of craft glimmering like koi darting through a murky pond. Stark ignored them, fury burning in his gut.

  "What do you mean, she's disappeared?" he demanded.

  "I delivered Ms. te Nawa to her friend's apartment," Rak said, misery in every line of his stance. "She was supposed to stay there. But according to her friend, the two of them slipped out and took an airbus to that club, The Flash. Taara says Ms. te Nawa told her she had to meet someone there and get back something that belonged to her."

  "Meet who?" Stark had a blackish feeling he already knew. He'd known she was up to something, his sly little cat, but he'd told himself she was merely suffering an attack of nerves. Instead she'd gone off to meet a former lover, a ganger.

  "Tal Darkrunner," Rak confirmed heavily. "He led Ms. te Nawa off into the crowd and neither of them came back. Taara had a drink with his gang while she waited and then asked them to find Darkrunner for her, but they told her to go home."

  "Kiri went with him willingly?"

  "Yes, sir. But Taara says she 'just knows' Ms. te Nawa wouldn't take off and leave her like that, so she called the police."

  Stark wouldn't have thought Kiri would sneak out to meet the ganger, either. Perhaps neither he nor this Taara knew her at all. This was beginning to feel like a hellish repeat of a very old nightmare. And perhaps it was. He remembered the way she'd pouted when she asked why he had to travel to Frontiera. At the time he'd put it down to nerves, but perhaps it was jealousy.

  "And you've linked the police as well?" he asked automatically.

  "Yes, sir. They don't know anything yet. I've got our people on it, too."

  "Find Darkrunner," Stark ordered. "He's the key to this. I want everyone on it you can muster. If she's with him of her own free will, then that's an end to it."

  And an end to them. He let the rage inside him grow. It was better than the other emotion that waited to spring from the back of the night. Fear, because he knew as well as any being on this planet what waited for the unprotected down there in the dirty streets, the filthy back alleys.

  "But if he took her ... I want him in front of me. I'll beat it out of him if I have to. Set watch on every place known to belong to him and every place he goes. I want him, if it takes calling in every favor owed me."

  "Yes, sir. I'll get back to you as soon as I hear anything."

  Stark broke the link and started to pace back and forth in his living room.

  Stark saw instead a pair of golden eyes and heard Kiri's husky laugh that always broke in the middle, heard her moan his name as he thrust into her. He knew her passion had been genuine—there was no mistaking the feel of a woman's orgasm when his cock was buried deep inside her.

  But had the shy admiration in her golden gaze, her pleasure in his company been real as well? Those could be faked and had been by women since time began. He'd taken a gamble hooking up with her. She was not a professional courtesan, who would please him and then slip discreetly away. She was not one from the wealthy strata in which he now moved. She was a wild card, and he knew very well she was a bit of a hustler, not averse to finding herself in the lap of luxury.

  But at least he'd believed her different than Adora. Had he outsmarted himself with Kiri, thinking that because he knew her for a cat looking for a soft landing, he was immune to any plays she might make?

  No, until he knew differently, he had to assume she'd been taken.

  Fear slashed again, with talons long and sharp. His little cat was out there somewhere, perhaps taken for some unscrupulous purpose. He would find her. He had to. And then he'd collar her, with jewels and a leash if necessary.

  And if Darkrunner had made off with her, the ganger would discover as others had that Stark had grown up in these mean streets of New Seattle. He'd killed before to protect what was his, and if necessary, he'd do it again.

  But was she his, or was his credit worth so much to her that she'd prostituted herself to him for it, even though she wanted another man?

  He stopped in the middle of the room, shaking off his bitter doubt. That made no sense. Darkrunner was a ganger lord—he was involved in all manner of illicit commerce and probably had access at times to as much credit as Stark himself. If Kiri wanted to go to him, why involve Stark first? Unless he'd simply found her in a vulnerable moment. Unless she'd had a taste of him and decided she wanted Darkrunner after all.

  Stark rolled his shoulders in his suit. He wished Daron Navos was within range of a fast cruiser. He could use an Indigon's intuitive skills right now. His admin assistant was part Indigon, but her intuition was limited to her family and an occasional sense about a business deal. He had good people on Earth II, he reminded himself, and they were searching for Kiri and for Darkrunner.

  Meanwhile, he needed to pound something. Time for a workout with his sparring robot.

  * * *

  Haassea linked him as he was walking into his bathroom. He was breathing hard, perspiring, his muscles tired from a hard workout. Wiping sweat from his face with the towel around his neck, he nodded to her, although he was not in the mood for a conversation.

  She wore lii silk nightwear, her hair tumbling about her shoulders, but her expression was somber.

  "Logan," she said. "Your people were just here, looking for Kiri—Ms. te Nawa. What's happened?"

>   He took a deep breath and let it out. Her gaze traveled down over his bare torso to his brief shorts then returned to his face. "She's missing."

  "Oh." She looked away, her winged brows lowering. She fidgeted with a fold of her gown and then looked back up at him, distress clear in her gaze. "Logan, I received a very troubling comlink this evening. I don't know what it means or why it was sent to me. But you need to see it."

  "About what?" Impatience simmered, and he wanted nothing more than to put her off and break the link. "If it's business, I can't—"

  "It's Kiri," she cut in. "It's not good, Logan. Link me back if you need to. I'll be glad to come over, or—"

  "Haassea," he cut in sharply. "The link. At once, please."

  She nodded. The link winked out. Stark stood, his chest tight with foreboding.

  The new link chimed. He opened it, and the floor fell away beneath him. The link was of Kiri, walking into a dark, crowded club, harsh music filling the dim air. She wore a fitted leather ensemble that nipped her small waist and cupped her rounded ass. Her short, sleek hair shone in the glowlamps.

  The blonde Taara was at her side. She leaned close to Kiri, concern clear on her pretty face.

  "What about Stark?" the blonde asked over the music.

  "What about him?" Kiri repeated, her face hard in a way Stark had not seen since that first night.

  He braced his hands on the desk in front of him. They tightened into fists, his arms shaking with the effort of not throwing the comlink against the wall. 'What about him?' Had he really heard her say those words, in that cold voice?

  The scene changed, to Kiri walking down a hallway, threading her way through loiterers.

  One of the doors lining the hallway opened just as the crowd shifted. Kiri disappeared through the door, and it closed. The link switched to inside the small room, mostly taken up by a plain leather divan.

  Stark growled in sheer fury as he saw the lean man leaning on the end of the divan. Darkrunner.

  Kiri turned away, and the ganger moved close behind her.

  "I have something you want."

  She cocked her head, in flirtation or caution, Stark couldn't tell. "Really?"

  The man leaned closer, inhaling her scent, his braids brushing over her cheek. "Stay, and I'll give it to you."

  Kiri closed her eyes. Stark froze as she shivered in a way he remembered all too well.

  The link changed again, and the floor fell away beneath him. He reached out one hand and steadied himself against the wall. Kiri lay on the bed, nude. Even in the dim light he could see it was her. He'd know that lithe, curving body anywhere.

  Even with another man moving over her, in the cradle of her thighs, ass pumping as he thrust inside her hard until both of them arched in completion.

  Stark turned blindly back into the gym. Rage burned inside him, more than he could bear. With a growl that began low in his chest and built to a roar, he picked up one of the heavy weights waiting on a rack and heaved it across the gym. It slammed into a wall and thudded to the mats. He threw another and another and another, until the rack was empty and he was staggering in the aftermath of emotion, like a man buffeted by the wash of a craft taking off.

  She'd snuck out of his home, out of his arms to go to that ganger.

  And he'd stood in this place before. Only that time it had been in person. He'd walked into his own bedroom and found his woman—the woman on whom he'd hung all his youthful dreams—in the arms of another man. Never again. He would not go through this again, not for her or any woman. No matter how beguiling.

  Kiri te Nawa was a cat all right—a clever, conniving, faithless little cat. And he was done with her. If Darkrunner was what she wanted, he was what she'd have.

  He turned to find Natan standing silently in the doorway, his eyes wide, hair wrapped tightly about his neck.

  "Make sure I'm packed," Stark told him, his voice dull and hoarse. "I have a flight to catch."

  Chapter 31

  Stark dined at the captain's table on his flagship, Orion. He'd boarded that morning, greeted his captain and crew commanders, and gone about his usual routine of attending their first meeting, touring the ship, visiting with members of the crew and several passengers. And if those who knew him best, like Captain Steve Craig, watched him with dawning concern, he ignored this and expected them to keep it to themselves.

  He enjoyed a vigorous workout with his Serpentian ship's guard, stretched, showered and changed.

  As he forked up fresh pasta, baby vegetables and Aquarian sole in a delicate cream sauce, Stark surveyed the large dining room of his flagship. All around him, beings relaxed in elegant surroundings during their galactic traverse. They ate and drank and chatted, enjoying the fresh gourmet cuisine, the best the galaxy had to offer.

  There were wealthy tourists from several planets including humans, Serpentians, Pangaeans and even an Egglantian or two. Barillians trilled in harmonic conversation. Farther on, two tables of Tygers laughed and argued. With so many of the volatile shifters on board, the crew commanders were hoping none of the Tygeans would experience the pull of their mating moons. The Orion had been through that once before.

  Beyond them several tables of sturdy, plainly clothed men, women and children ate and talked. By now the Frontiera-bound emigrants had gotten over most of their awe of the elegant ship but were still on their best behavior. From the rowdy look of some of them, Stark hoped that continued.

  He wondered what their reaction would be if they knew the immaculate, urbane crew commanders seated with him around the captain's table had all, at one time or another, engaged in violent battles aboard this very ship to save her from deadly saboteurs.

  Captain Steve Craig was bent attentively toward his wife, Tessa. Lovely and very pregnant, she was also part-Serpentian and capable of killing with one blow of her slender legs or arms. She'd nearly died herself, fighting to stop two of her fellow ships guard bent on sabotage.

  To her left sat an Indigon couple, with pale skin, black hair and compelling blue eyes. Commander Daron Navos, second in command and one of the coldest beings Stark had ever met, and his bride. It still amazed Stark that this bastion of intellect had unbent far enough to marry, apparently for love. The two were eating silently, but as Nelah suddenly smiled and cast a secret glance at her husband, Stark suspected they were having a very private conversation of their own. They'd used their intuitive skills to vanquish an enemy on board Orion as well.

  As Navos arched a brow at his wife, Stark looked away. The last thing he'd ever desire was a woman who could see inside his very thoughts. In fact, from now on, he'd be sticking to women who asked nothing of him, other than perhaps some form of payment for their services.

  He took a sip of his wine and considered the next couple at the table. Tryon and Calla Jag were both full-blood Tygeans. With the golden skin, hair and eyes of their people, they exuded sensuality. Jag was a big man, about Stark's size, but Calla was much smaller. About Kiri's size and weight. When she gave her husband a sultry glance from under her lashes, something clicked into place in his mind. She bore more resemblance to Kiri than size. It could only be hoped Calla did not share the same moral compass.

  Jag narrowed his eyes at Stark. "I assume you've a good reason for staring at my wife."

  Calla gave her husband a look of reprimand and looked apologetically at Stark. Jag laid a long, heavy arm over the back of her chair.

  Stark smiled briefly. "As a matter of fact, I recently met a ... woman and wonder if she might share some of your heritage. Calla reminds me of her. Although Calla is much more attractive."

  "What's her name?" Calla asked.

  "Kiri te Nawa." And why in the name of the great God beyond had he brought her into the conversation? His gut knotted, and Stark pushed his plate away, revolted by the food remaining on it.

  Both Tygeans shook their heads. "Te Nawa is not a Tygean name," Jag said. "But Kiri could be."

  "I went to school with a Kiri," Calla put in. "S
o yes. Where does she live?"

  "Earth II," Stark said. "Port of New Seattle. But she was only a ... passing acquaintance, really." He caught an odd look from Captain Craig and glanced away. Of course Craig had seen her on holovid, so he may have gotten the wrong idea about Stark's relationship with her. No matter.

  The Pangaean waitstaff appeared to clear their plates and offer coffee with dessert, a narrow sliver of cheesecake drizzled with plumquot sauce on a dark chocolate crust. Stark refused the dessert but nodded his thanks as the waiter filled his cup with hot coffee. Then the fragrance reminded him of sitting at his breakfast table, a flirtatious smile beaming at him from over another cup. He reached for the wine instead.

  "Hear the rioting's worse there," Craig said. "Are your holdings safe, Logan?"

  The others listened as Stark answered. "As safe as anything in the area. I've armed guards and laser security."

  "I don't know how you can bear to be so close to fighting," Commander Mra said. Her green hair curled tightly about her throat.

  "Your own planet is one of the few that manages to remain peaceful," he told her. "Pangaeans could teach the rest of us about negotiation as opposed to fighting."

  And he had no intention of giving up all his holdings on Earth II. There was savage satisfaction in each and every flight over the dirty, dangerous city in one of his sleek, high-tech craft. Too much triumph every time he took over a business thriving on forced labor and turned it into a viable piece of LodeStar Enterprises, with the former slaves now free employees, and the dark alleys in the area cleaned and well-lighted.

  Yes, he would always maintain a presence there, even if he was uncertain he wanted to set foot back on the planet for a very long time

  "I regret your complimentary words about my race are not always true," Mra said, darting a look at the Tygeans. A Pangaean with a bio-bomb had attempted to thwart the Orion's maiden voyage. Jag was forced to pilot the huge ship through the deadly Cattarus meteor ring without her sophisticated nav system.

  The Tyger smiled lazily at her. "A few bad gremels in every crop, eh, Commander?"