And since Dagan didn’t seem inclined to go away, Jeret decided he’d take the ship as a hideout, brushing past Dagan and up the ramp. So what if it hurt that Dagan yet again, after all these years, still didn’t take his wishes seriously? What Jeret wanted didn’t matter, it was always about his honor, his duty, fucking responsibility Jeret hadn’t asked for.
No more. This would be over soon and when it was, he could disappear just as easily as he had the first time. Maybe Dagan would find him again and maybe he wouldn’t, but even if he did, it wouldn’t change facts. Jeret wasn’t the crown prince of Hadrian anymore and he never would be again. This planet and Dagan himself needed to start looking for someone else to be their salvation. He wasn’t the One.
* * *
“Well, this is awkward.” Rain glanced back and forth between Jeret and Dagan. Jeret could feel Dagan’s eyes on him, but refused to look.
Torin gave his husband a light shove. “Shut up, Rain.”
He was right, though. Ever since their blowout the day before, he and Dagan could hardly be in the same room together.
“No, seriously, are we gonna discuss the elephant in the room here?” Rain dodged the next shove Torin aimed at him. “Cut that out.” He gestured to Jeret and Dagan across the small table. “You two. Spill. What’s up?”
“None of your business.” Jeret glared at him. “Do I go nosing into your and Torin’s business?’
“Um, actually...” Rain glanced back and forth between him and Dagan. “Wait, so this is, what? A lovers’ quarrel?”
Torin rolled his eyes, reaching for his drink. “I swear to Christ, you have all the tact of a bull in the proverbial china shop.”
Rain threw his hands up. “Okay, number one I have no idea what that even means, and number two why am I the only one concerned that they’re having a tiff while we’re in the middle of a fucking job?”
Dagan leaned forward finally. “Do you ever shut up?”
Torin let out a short laugh. “No.”
“Look, everything is fine. Just a disagreement, that’s all.” Dagan glanced at Jeret and then away. “Let’s just get this meeting over with.”
“Fine.” Rain clearly didn’t believe that it was nothing, but he let the subject drop. Jeret glanced around the bar, hoping whoever the contact was would hurry the hell up.
“Are you sure this is safe? You can trust this guy?” Jeret wasn’t entirely convinced. He felt so exposed even though the tavern was clearly the sort of spot where business like theirs wasn’t uncommon. It was the kind of place where you kept your head down and did what you came there to do, then got the hell out. It didn’t make him feel much safer. Oddly, Dagan between him and the rest of the bar did make him feel better. Jeret chose not to explore that bit of knowledge. Self-denial was a gift at times.
Before he could answer, Dagan straightened in his chair, nodding to the entrance. “That’s our guy.”
Jeret frowned at the man coming their way. He looked unimportant. “Him? He doesn’t look like he has clearance to review a cleaning crew schedule, let alone help us find our traitor.” Jeret was feeling less and less confident about this plan every second. But then the guy was in front of their table and it was too late.
“Follow me. Kalar is waiting.”
Jeret’s eyes just about popped out of his head. “Kalar?” he whispered furiously, yanking on Dagan’s sleeve. “Are you serious right now?”
“Deadly so. Now come on, Jeret, the longer we linger the more attention we draw.” Dagan was already standing. Oh sure, now he was using the right name.
“Wait, who’s Kalar? This isn’t your contact?” Torin frowned, pushing to his feet as well.
“Kalar is no longer just a commander. It’s Advisor Kalar now, and we have no choice.” Dagan directed his explanation at Jeret. “You have to trust me.”
Rain and Torin looked to Jeret, expressions questioning. If he said no, the whole thing was off. If he said yes...Jeret sighed.
“It’s Kalar I don’t trust. Just make sure there are no loaded weapons nearby.”
“She shot at you one time and it was an accident.”
Rain chuckled. “Later on, I think I want the rest of this story.”
They all followed Kalar’s man, who didn’t seem to feel the need to explain where they were going or why. Torin caught Jeret’s arm and their eyes met as they exited the tavern.
“Is everything alright? The job with Shengo is done, there’s no need for us to stay and finish this.”
Jeret knew exactly what Torin was saying. They could bail right then and there if he just said the word. He and Rain and Torin would get the hell off this planet and be halfway across the galaxy before anyone knew what was what. And all Jeret had to do was say the word. Walk away.
It should have been an easy decision. A few days ago it might have been. But now Jeret hated it and it was stupid, but he felt a weird sense of obligation. The more they dug and the more time passed, the more real it all became. Someone was trying to overthrow the king—or at the very least was waiting eagerly for him to die so they could get what they wanted a whole lot easier and with less casualties. That someone wasn’t looking after the best interests of Hadrian and her people. That someone was making deals with the scum of the In-Between in order to further their own agenda and line their own pockets. And for some reason, it fucking mattered to him. Maybe Dagan’s obsession with duty and honor was rubbing off or something.
Jeret finally shook his head. “No. We stay.”
“Great, now who’s Kalar and why does she want to shoot you?” Rain grinned. “I thought I was the one who inspired folk to have a twitchy trigger finger.”
Torin side-eyed his husband with a snort. “Half the time the ‘folk’ in that equation is me.”
“Yeah, but you shoot with a whole different kind of—”
“Okay, ew!” Jeret held up his hand, giving Rain a shove. “Shut up. Way too much information.” They ducked through alleyways and side streets until he was pretty sure even he couldn’t find his way back to where they were. Dagan was ignoring them and focused, as always, on the job at hand. What else was new?
Before he could answer Rain and explain his past with Kalar, the past jumped out and practically bit him, just like Dagan had.
She hadn’t changed a bit.
“Kalar, thank you for meeting us.” Dagan held out his hand and Kalar took it, but her eyes were on Jeret.
“You said you had a surprise. I never suspected it was our wayward prince.” She gave him a slight bow. “Your Highness. Welcome home.”
“Warm, ain’t she?’ Rain muttered.
Jeret hid a grin, which turned into a scowl when he returned Kalar’s greeting. “Don’t get too excited, I’m not here to stay.” He tossed a pointed look at Dagan, who just looked away.
Kalar glanced between them. “No? What is this about then, Dagan? We haven’t seen nor heard from you in years and now you’re back, and come bearing the prince? For what purpose, if he is still the same spoiled child who refuses to lead as he was born to do?”
Dagan held a hand up to Jeret when he would have snapped a harsh retort. “Kalar, throwing barbs isn’t going to help and we are in dire need of some help. Yours, hopefully.”
Jeret fought the urge to roll his eyes. He didn’t think they needed her help. She might be Dagan’s friend, but she was never his. Always so damn high-and-mighty. Where Dagan had been somewhat lenient when it came to keeping tabs on Jeret back then, Kalar had never bent an inch. He still wasn’t convinced her accidental shot at him that day when he’d been refabricating the engine in the latest ship in his father’s armada had actually been an accident. Dagan would say he was being a grudge-bearing brat, and he was probably right. Maybe she could help. If nothing else, the idea of a traitor in the king’s midst would piss her the fuck of
f. The only person who took their duty more seriously than Kalar was Dagan.
“And who is this?” She glanced at Torin and Rain.
“My friends.” Jeret tilted his chin and gestured to Dagan. “Can we just get on with this?”
“Fine.” Dagan let out a breath. “Long story short is that we have reason to believe there’s a traitor in the ranks. We don’t know who and we don’t know how high up, but it’s pretty high because this person has been smuggling gradium off-planet for at least six months, maybe longer.”
Kalar’s jaw dropped. “That’s impossible.”
“Not hardly. We have proof.”
“What proof?” she asked.
Torin stepped forward. “My pilot and I just delivered a shipment of the smuggled product to Shengo Lark in the Kessian sector.” He gestured to Jeret. “A program designed by Jeret gave us access to Shengo’s private communications. He’s got plans to begin high-level, mass trading of gradium in the works—which means he’s got some kind of deal with whoever is in charge of the smuggling operation.”
“And whoever’s doing the smuggling is, we’re confident, our traitor. The king is ill, what better time to stage a takeover?”
Kalar blinked. “This is insane. Who would dare?”
Jeret glanced at Dagan, then met Kalar’s gaze. “The signs point to my uncle.”
Dagan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t protest. Jeret knew he didn’t want to believe it, but the more they learned, the more the evidence piled up. There were so few people who could manage everything required that the pool just got smaller and smaller.
Kalar let out a disbelieving snort. “That’s absurd. Your uncle? Besides, you are the rightful heir. If the king dies.”
“Except Jadi has been gone for years. And whoever is behind all of this has been doing their best to make sure he wasn’t found. The only reason I managed to find him is because the king didn’t tell anyone he was hiring me. He came to me himself six months ago.” Dagan sighed. “We don’t have time to convince you of the truth, Kalar. You have to trust me. This is true, this is real and without someone on the inside to help we’re not going to find the traitor in time.”
Kalar didn’t say anything for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. I believe you. What do you need?”
Jeret let out a sigh of relief. She might be a cold-blooded bitch, but having her on their side could only be a good thing.
Dagan appeared equally relieved. “We need to find out who’s smuggling the gradium. Or at least how. That will lead us to the ‘who’ in the equation.”
Kalar nodded. “How am I supposed to contact you with any new information?”
Jeret took a step forward. “We’ll contact you.” Dagan might trust her implicitly, and Jeret agreed she was their best bet to help them ferret out the traitor, but he wouldn’t put it past her to turn him over to his father like a prize in exchange for what probably amounted to a hefty reward.
She cut Dagan an annoyed look, then shrugged, lifting her hands. “Whatever. Do it your way, you always do.” She clapped Dagan on the shoulder. “Stay in touch, I’ll get to work on this.”
A minute later they were headed back to the warehouse. Dagan fell into step beside him.
“We need to talk.”
Jeret didn’t agree. “No, we don’t. We’re just going to have to agree to disagree on this, Dagan. When this job is over we’re still going to be on opposite ends and what happens then...well, we’ll just see.”
“We don’t have to be on opposite ends.” His lips curved in a smile that was ridiculously seductive. Damn him. “I liked it when we were on the same page.”
Jeret glanced back at Torin and Rain, but they were busy talking to each other. He sighed and met Dagan’s eyes. “That’s not going to happen again.” That it’d happened at all was maybe not a mistake, but things were different now. Torin and Rain were there, they were going to find the traitor... He shrugged. “It was a fluke.”
Dagan didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His pride was stung, it was clear as day. “Right. A fluke. Whatever you say, Highness.”
Jeret let out another sigh as Dagan moved ahead of the group. He didn’t try to catch up to him though. One of them had to be realistic, and reality was that when this was over they wanted different things. Jeret wanted to be free, while Dagan had spent the last six years daydreaming about being right back where he’d been the day Jeret had left.
Well, he was welcome to that life. Jeret had no interest in it whatsoever.
Yeah, but you sure do have an interest in him, muttered his inner voice.
Jeret ignored it. Even if it was true.
Chapter Twelve
“This is insane.”
Dagan glanced up at Jadi and then shrugged, going back to what he was doing—which was mostly trying to seem busy so Jadi and his friends didn’t fucking bother him. That was working out really well, clearly. “What’s wrong now, Highness? Something not to your liking?”
“Oh good, it’s sarcasm today. Fun. Shove your attitude, Dagan. I’m serious.”
Dagan let out a heavy sigh and pushed away from the control panel, arms outstretched in annoyance. “Well fine, then speak up. Now you have stuff to say, I get it. Last night it’s the fucking silent treatment like I’m a damned misbehaving husband and now I get the privilege of taking your complaints? Well go on, then, what do you have for me?”
He didn’t care if normally he’d have sooner cut out his own tongue than talk to his prince that way. Jadi didn’t want to be royalty anymore? Then like hell was Dagan going to wear kid gloves for him and handle him like he was made of spun sugar.
Jadi didn’t say anything.
“You know what? Forget it. If you want to sit here and sulk, then fine by me. I’m surprised your enormous pride can handle having the real work done by everybody but yourself, but hey, whatever makes your world spin ‘round, bad boy.”
Jadi shrugged, then turned to leave again.
Little shit, he always had to be right. Dagan let out a growl and leaped to his feet to catch Jadi’s arm before he left the ship. “Enough dancing around. I asked a question, you wanna talk, so talk. What?”
Jadi turned and Dagan hated the fact that looking down at him all he could think of was how his mouth tasted. Wanted to taste it again. It was absurd to feel this way when Jadi had made it abundantly clear that what seemed like striking treasure was, in fact, more along the lines of lightning striking. Just once, and then no matter how many times you went back to that same spot, it never happened again.
Jadi scowled at him, then his expression relaxed and he shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. It feels wrong to just be sitting here waiting.”
“Kalar’s not a miracle worker, Jadi. Give her a little time, we’ll check in again tomorrow and see what she’s come up with.” The sooner the better, he hoped, because despite how big the warehouse was, it became cramped and short of air every time he and Jadi were near.
“I know, I just...” Jadi trailed off, then looked up at Dagan. And damn him, the way he looked at him was so fucking familiar. It tugged at Dagan’s heart and he was sure the prince knew it. Spoiled brat that he was, he had never been above a little manipulation to get his way. Once upon a time it’d been endearing, but now—with so much more emotion to manipulate than Dagan cared to admit—it just pissed him off.
“You just what? Wish I’d fix it, Jadikira? Work my magic like I always did every time you’d give me those big brown eyes after you’d gotten tangled up into some new mess? I wish I could. I really do. Because then this could be over and I could get back to my life. The same one I lost thanks to you.”
Jadi drew back as if he’d been struck and Dagan immediately regretted his harsh words. But that regret only made him angrier, because Jadi didn’t care about his regret. He cared abou
t himself and that was all. That was only ever all.
“What’s the stung look for, Highness? You don’t care where I go or what I do when this is over? You don’t even plan to be here, do you? So what does it matter to you whether I even notice you’re gone?”
Jadi looked like he wanted to turn and run, and Dagan half expected him to do just that. Instead, Jadi glanced down, then took a deep breath and looked up again.
“I don’t know. You’re right, I don’t have any say or any right to even question what you do. I’m sorry, Dagan.”
The apology was so out of nowhere that Dagan was momentarily stunned. And before he could recover, Jadi had left the ship and he was alone.
It wasn’t as appealing as it’d sounded a few seconds ago.
* * *
Jeret paused just outside the ship. Over to the left Torin and Rain were filtering through the rest of the data he and Dagan had stolen from the mines. What Jeret really wanted was to be alone. He dipped around the other side of the ship and slipped out the side exit without being seen. Dagan could go fuck himself if he got pissed again. He needed some damn space.
He threw the hood of his coat over his head and leaned against the side of the building. He didn’t intend to go wandering off, he just needed some fresh air and some perspective.
He felt helpless. Sitting around waiting for Kalar to do the digging, relying on her to give them what they needed. It felt wrong. It was wrong. He trusted Torin, he trusted Rain and sometimes he trusted Dagan. He damn sure didn’t trust that heartless bitch any further than he could throw her.
He blew out a breath, and tipped his head back against the wall. It was pretty obvious what needed to be done, what he had to do. But dammit, he didn’t want to. Going to the palace, seeing his father...the answers were there, sure, but so was a lot of pain. A lot of hurt. And a lot of guilt.
“Sorry for what?”
Jeret sighed and turned his head, meeting Dagan’s eyes. Something soft deep inside wobbled precariously.
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