“Oh, wow.”
It was a huge warehouse. One of the old ones where the government had stored grain before the drought a decade earlier had wiped out the farmland to the north. It left many of the citizens in this part of the city without work and the buildings and factories abandoned. Someone had turned this one into a sort of living space, with bonus parking for a small enough ship. Little Bird sat neatly in the center and all around the perimeter were the basic necessities. A bathroom, a small kitchen area, what looked like a curtained-off bunk space and a couple of desks, some chairs. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. They didn’t really need the bunks, as the ship would be fine to sleep in, but in an enclosed space they couldn’t power it up so Little Bird was pretty much a big fucking paperweight until they were ready to leave for good.
“Is there power?” He tossed his bag on a lumpy-looking couch and approached Dagan, who was checking out the kitchen, cataloging provisions.
He glanced up. “Yeah. We’ve got food and water enough for about a week, just like he said, and there’s a grid connect console over there by the generator. We won’t need the generator unless something happens to knock out the power, but it’s good to have just in case. We’re gonna want to stay plugged-in to what’s going on before we make any moves.”
Jeret hopped up onto the counter. “What is our move, by the way? What do we do first?” Now that they were there, Jeret was anxious to get started, to flush this asshole traitor out so he could get on with maybe making his peace with his father and then going the hell home.
Dagan turned and leaned against the wall facing him. “Well, first we need a list of suspects. I mean, who would gain the most from this? Who would stand a chance of usurping the throne without an army and not be challenged?”
Jeret pondered that. “Well, if they aren’t planning on using force, which we don’t know one way or the other, then it’d have to be someone who could plausibly have a claim to rule after my father dies. But really, that might not give us all our suspects. Given enough security at the palace alone, someone could conceivably steal the throne and rule without a legitimate claim. It’s that whole ‘possession is the bulk of the law’ thing, you know? Once they have it—and all that takes is being in the right place at the right time—the rest of us become the offense, the rebels if you will. A lot of people don’t take well to uprisings, Dagan. I’ve seen it myself plenty of times. They’ll go along and not put up a fight if it means staying out of a confrontation. If the traitor doesn’t try to change a lot of things right away, most of the citizens might not even care who was ruling.”
“That’s true, unfortunately. Which is why we need to stop him before he gets that power. So let’s start with the most obvious suspects and work our way from there. Who, Jadi?”
Jeret tucked one leg up to wrap his arms around his knee as he thought. “Well, the Bishop. He’s an obvious choice. With the added bonus that the number of people willing to fight him would be all but nil considering he’s, you know, the spiritual guidepost for the entire planet.” Jeret himself had seen too much of the In-Between to believe in God or wishful thinking, feel-good myths. Even before he’d seen so much of the Universe, he’d had his doubts.
“True. Alright, who else? I was thinking probably Senator Lenova. He’s your father’s top advisor, has been for years. He’s an obvious choice, since he’s actually in the line of succession, albeit below about half a dozen other people. Yourself included, of course.”
Jeret rolled his eyes. “Of course. There’s one more main contender, I think, though I really, really hope it’s not him.”
“Not who?” Dagan tilted his head curiously.
“My uncle.”
Dagan reared back slightly, seeming to physically reject the suggestion. Jeret knew how he felt. If he’d idolized Dagan as a youth, Jeret had worshipped his uncle. Leven Adar was his father’s youngest sibling and only brother. He was also a war hero, an ace pilot, a complete ladies’ man, pretty much everything a little boy looks up to, and Jeret had been no different. He’d believed unequivocally that his uncle could do no wrong.
“That’s absurd. It’s not your uncle.”
“How do you know?” Jeret didn’t want to believe it, but if they were going to get to the bottom of the situation, they had to be at least a little objective. “You’re willing to consider the leader of the church is behind it but not my uncle? Come on, Dagan. Be realistic.”
Dagan’s jaw clenched and he scowled. “Fine. But it’s not him.”
“I hope not. So that’s the top three. I figure we start there and work our way down the list. If it ends up not one of them, we can revisit and see who else pops up on the radar.”
Dagan nodded.
Something that had been niggling at him came to mind and Jeret leaned back on his palms, peering across at Dagan. “You said before that my father told you he’d hired other bounty hunters to find me?”
“Yeah. Quite a few over the years, from the impression he gave me. Why?”
“I don’t know exactly. I mean, how long did it take you to find me?”
“He came to me about six months ago. And honestly, I knew where you were pretty much a month into it, once I’d found Neith and Killian. It was just a matter of tracking down the Ansata.”
“Exactly. Don’t you find it a little odd that all these other bounty hunters couldn’t find me for almost six years but it takes you, like, a month to pin me down?” Wrong wording, because Dagan’s gaze sharpened and Jeret’s stomach tightened in reaction. God, the son of a bitch was too sexy for anyone’s good.
But Dagan didn’t say anything about the double entendre, looking away and frowning. “You’re right. He had to have gone to the best money could buy first off. I got the impression I was definitely a last resort. Huh.” He pushed away from the wall and strode over to the grid connect console.
Curiosity piqued, Jeret hopped down off the counter and followed him. “What are you thinking?”
“Thinking I need to contact some of the other guys in the business, see if anyone I know who might owe me a favor or two was on your father’s list.”
Jeret shook his head abruptly. “Hang on, let me just...” He trailed off as he leaned in over Dagan’s shoulder and began tapping away at the keyboard. “Someone could track your location. Gimme a second, I can mask it.”
“Sure.” Dagan’s voice was suddenly hoarse and it took Jeret a second to realize why. It hit him right about the same time as the scent of Dagan’s skin did. Hot and musky, but not overly ripe. Just manly. And really fucking sexy. He glanced sideways, finding Dagan watching him intently.
He looked away, awareness sizzling along his nerves as he hurried to finish the simple commands. Finally he was done, jerking back and rubbing his hands on his thighs. “Uh, there. There ya go. It’s bouncing off so many satellites it might be coming from the other side of the galaxy for all they’d know.”
Dagan was still staring at him. “Thanks.” He didn’t make a move toward the console though. There was something dangerous in his eyes. Dangerous like he was the hunter and Jeret was the prey in a far more primitive kind of hunt.
He cleared his throat, suddenly not very interested in watching Dagan work. “You go ahead with that and I’ll, well, somebody has to cook around here and after last night I’m not gonna let it be you.” He turned and hurried back to the kitchen area. As if he gave a shit about what they’d have for dinner. No, he cared about putting some distance between him and Dagan before he forgot about his ‘I don’t fuck men who want to subjugate me’ rule.
That rule was looking less and less appealing with Dagan sitting there all mouthwatering.
Jeret glanced around the kitchen, sighing. Well, he’d watched Cookie do it often enough. Surely he could manage to make something more edible than Dagan had. It’d be a little bit of an ego-boost, actually, childis
h as it was. The man needed to be knocked down a peg or two.
By the time Dagan finished what he was doing and made his way back over to the kitchen, Jeret had not only forgotten all about how sexy Dagan was and how his stomach had flipped when they were close, he’d also managed to make the midday meal.
“It smells good.” Dagan sat down at the small table. Jeret could feel the weight of his gaze and had to force himself not to look over as, unfortunately, all the feelings he’d been hurrying to forget came rushing back with Dagan close again. Dammit. “What is it?”
Jeret kept his eyes on the plates as he dished it up. “Stew. It’s better if it cooks all day. That’s how Cookie used to do it. All day makin’ the ship smell like freaking heaven, torturing everybody. Worth it though.” He shrugged one shoulder and turned to shove the bowl at Dagan without looking at him. “It’s okay, tastes good anyway.”
“You feeling alright, Highness?”
That just did it. He slapped the spoon into the pot with a messy splash, then turned to glare at Dagan. “Look, you big fucking ass, I am on edge in about a dozen different ways right now and all I asked is for you to please call me by my goddamn name. That’s it! Considering that if it weren’t for you none of this would be my problem, I think it’s the least you could do!”
Dagan scowled, then shoved away from the table. Christ, the man was huge. He towered over Jeret by at least half a foot and what had to be eighty pounds of solid muscle—muscle his stretched tight, too-thin sleeveless top showed off to fucking perfection.
“Your name is Jadikira Adar, crown prince and heir to the throne of Hadrian, and if you don’t like it, then fine, but I am not catering to your neuroses, Jadi. You are a prince, whether you want to be or not.” He took a step closer and it took all Jeret had to not take a step back in response. He would not be cowed by this man.
“I don’t.”
“I am well aware, thanks. You know, you sit there and tell me I’m not seeing you as a person, but what about you, Jadi? Who do you see when you look in the mirror, huh? Jeret, the homeless street urchin who hitched a ride on a pirate ship six years ago? Or Jadi, the spoiled little prince who ran away from his family and broke his father’s heart six years ago? Because I see both. So which of us is blind?”
Jeret did take a step back then, as Dagan advanced with every harsh word he threw. The fucked-up part was that Jeret couldn’t even deny it. Those accusations were true. And he hated Dagan for holding that mirror up and forcing him to look.
“Fuck you!” he shouted, though he knew how impotent his words were.
Dagan’s look was almost pitying. “Is that all you have, Jadikira? All your self-righteous anger and outrage, and all you have is ‘fuck you’? Do you want to know what I found? Do you?”
Jeret wasn’t sure he did. But he couldn’t say that, so he nodded.
“Your father has searched for you every day you’ve been gone.”
Jeret’s heart pounded and he didn’t believe that. “He would have found me if that were true. You did.”
Dagan let out a heavy breath. “Because no one knew he’d hired me except a few of his very closest guards. If someone had known, well, I imagine I’d have had the same visitor as all the other bounty hunters.”
Jeret blinked. “A visitor? What do you mean?” Had they been killed? Surely no one could get away with killing the best bounty hunters in the In-Between. It was too risky, wasn’t it?
“Every single one of them received an anonymous delivery shortly after receiving the job—the amount was different for each, but always enough to call the hunter off. Instructions came with the money. Appear to search, take some time and then report back to the king that they couldn’t find you.” Dagan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “None of them even looked for you. Someone paid them off before they ever got started.”
Jeret looked down, processing that. Maybe he’d never really consciously admitted it, but as the years ticked by without anyone showing up to connect him to his past, he’d been harboring a sort of anger. He didn’t want to be found, but the little boy in him had been angry that no one had even bothered to look. “God, how long has this been in motion?”
“Whoever’s running the show has been planning this for a long time. Maybe even before you left and they just saw that as their opportunity.” Dagan let out a short, humorless laugh. “Your running away might have even saved your life. If they were planning a coup, you’d just get in the way.”
“I could have died.”
“You still could.”
Something inside Jeret clicked, somehow, a sort of truth settling in his bones. “No. You won’t let that happen.”
Dagan didn’t say anything for a long moment. “No, Highness, I won’t. My life for yours—that’s what I vowed eight years ago when I took the position as captain of your guard. I still hold to that.”
“Why?” He didn’t understand why Dagan would die for him. Sure, Jeret would risk his life for Torin, for Rain, hell even for Annie. But he was nothing to Dagan, hadn’t been for years. Did his honor run that deep, his sense of duty? “Because I’m a duty?”
Dagan’s jaw clenched. “No. Because I let down the young man I loved and considered a friend once and I won’t do it again. You’re not a duty, Jadi. You never were, not then and not now.”
Jeret’s heart pounded and he could barely breathe as he took a step closer. “I said I’d wait until you saw me as a person.”
It took Dagan a few beats to realize what Jeret was saying. “Are you suggesting you want to fuck me now?”
Jeret’s chin lifted and he took a deep breath. “That’s all it would be. Fucking. And it doesn’t mean I’ve decided to stay and follow everyone else’s damn visions for my life.”
Dagan’s lips quirked. “It’s a really flattering offer, Jadi. Is this how you lure unsuspecting criminal types to your bed?” But he still came closer, and he wasn’t saying no.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He reached out and ran one hand down the center of Dagan’s chest, breath catching. He was so fucking gorgeous, it just wasn’t fair. “Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll show you a trick or two.”
Dagan’s expression changed as Jeret’s fingers caught on the waistband of his pants. “I’m not going to stop doing my job.”
“And I’m not going to stop trying to stop you from doing your job. Understood, Dagan. Do you want me or not?”
The answer was the hottest kiss in all of the In-Between.
Chapter Seven
It was like fire touched to tinder, but instead of destroying what it consumed, the desire that flared between them as their lips met did the opposite. It strengthened, and Christ, Dagan could slay armies and right wrongs and every other cliché he could think of. As long as Jadi kissed him this way, as long as Jadi clung to him that way.
He groaned and was halfway to his cabin aboard the ship before he even realized he’d lifted Jadi off his feet. He stumbled to a stop, forcing himself to break the kiss. “Jadi.” He closed his eyes, turning to press the young man back against the wall beside the galley, panting heavily. “You said no before.”
Jadi just stared at him, panting as well, his expression one of utter confusion. Then, finally, the fog seemed to clear a bit, eyes gleaming in the shadows of the powered-down ship. “I’m not saying no now, Dagan.”
That was all the permission he required, bending his head to claim those panting, damp lips again in a kiss that made the other look chaste. He’d thought about nothing else since their aborted encounter in the engine room. Jadi’s lips, Jadi’s taste—the wicked way Jadi felt under him.
His hands slid down to cup Jadi’s ass, pressing their bodies together where it counted most right now. Cock to cock, heat sizzling between them and nothing to stop the desire from taking control after days of simmering tension just under th
e surface. The polite facade was shattered and all that remained was need, harsh and honest.
“Dagan...” Jadi’s breath was a rapid pant against Dagan’s face. “Hurry.”
Dagan didn’t need to be told twice. He slid his arm around Jadi’s back and pulled him away from the wall, turning toward the bedroom. As he walked, Jadi took the opportunity to roll his hips, the friction setting off sparks as their cocks ground against each other. By the time Dagan was tumbling them down onto his bunk, he could hardly breathe and his cock was demanding attention.
Luckily Jadi seemed inclined to give it that attention, because he immediately shoved at Dagan’s shoulders with a wicked look and climbed astride him, just like he had in the engine room that day. Dagan was beginning to suspect that his wanton prince liked having the upper hand. He was more than glad to give it to him, because as soon as Jadi had settled on Dagan’s thighs, he flashed a naughty grin and began tugging at Dagan’s pants.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Jadikira.” Dagan’s breath caught as the young man slid farther down so he could drag his tongue the length of Dagan’s hard cock through the fabric of his pants.
“There are worse ways to go.” Jadi’s dark curls tumbled into his eyes as he freed Dagan’s cock and, with a hungry little sound, took half its length in one go. A second later, the other half was down Jadi’s throat and Dagan lost the ability to think or speak.
Jadi tugged his pants down farther as he began a quick, eager bobbing, mouth wet and hot as he sucked. And he kept looking up at Dagan, eyes knowing and wicked, as if he savored the reactions he was getting just as much as the act itself.
And oh, he was getting reactions. The man sucked cock like it was his damn job and fuck, he was good at it. Dagan’s head fell back against the mattress as he groaned in pleasure. “Fuck, Jadi, wait...wait...” If he didn’t slow down, Dagan wasn’t at all sure he’d make it to the main event without finishing too soon. Jadi was that good.
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