Hotter on the Edge

by Erin Kellison

  "What do you mean?"

  Pilar swiped her hand in the air to pass through different comms. He caught a second of his fight against the scavengers, a spotlight on mining, and a street-level view of the crowd massing on the street, voices rising in protest demanding to see him.

  No, Pilar was right. That mob wouldn't want to hear about bioform.

  "I mean," she said, "will you bust in and save her all over again?"

  ***

  Lana leaned forward slightly, eager, as a three-dimensional lightscape of the chaos of Pia's wedding sprang up before Mica. An image of Simon was frozen mid-strike, fighting with fistfuls of dome glass. Mica had played the comm once and had sobbed until Pia started showing her the offers Simon was getting around the sector: a part in an upcoming alien survivor action flick, the kind that got xenobioform wrong every time; modeling for high-end hubwear like some kind of space dandy; and bodyguard services, which included a contract clause for bedsport. Mica did stop sobbing long enough to respond negatively to the last one on his behalf, and then vowed never to watch the comm again.

  Lana altered the comm projection to Simon, lying in a pool of his blood. "We've had an official report from your father, Drummond Sol, that Simon Miner, your consort, is in stable condition. Have you seen Simon, and can you confirm that he is alive and improving?"

  Mica was wary about the shift in topic. But yes, she had demanded to see Simon as soon as she could sit without the world going into a dark spin. His coloring had been ashen, bruised under his eyes. His chest had been dermo-bandanged, so she had to force the medic to show her the sims of his treatment. His hands had been covered in rejuvy-gel to knit the tissues back together, but the deep gashes were still visible. What had they been like when he'd been first brought in?

  "My father's report is accurate," Mica said. She wasn't going to undercut him. He'd been wrong about how he'd handled the mining accident and wrong about Simon in general, but he was still her father and still the ruler of Sol. It helped that he'd finally caved on the issue of the theft and Simon's men had been released. "Yes, I've seen Simon. He is alive. He's undergone two successful surgeries."

  "Is it true that he died at the site?"

  By most standards, yes, so she answered with the technical details to buffer herself from the pain of it. "The Peace had him in a bio freeze and vitals capture within the sixty minute window."

  Lana Starcaster frowned at her. Maybe technical wasn't the way to go there either, but with all the trouble the Peace were now having beyond the palace walls, it didn't hurt to remind people that they'd played their part in saving Simon, too.

  "Wasn't he exiled from Sol City for theft?" Lana asked.

  The whiplash back in time had Mica stammering. "That was a mistake. The charges have been dropped."

  "And then again, two men claiming to be associated with Simon—one even swears that Simon used his slicer gun during Pilar Sol's wedding—were arrested for theft. Do you deny it?"

  Mica shook her head. "That was a mistake, too."

  "So many mistakes," Lana mused. "Are you in love with him?"

  That was easy. "Yes. He's everything to me."

  Lana's expression went pained. "But really, is there hope for a lowly miner with a corp-born Princess?"

  Again, easy. "Absolutely. I'm his, if he'll have me. I've already asked him."

  Lana did a double-handed flourish. "You're telling me that with a simple yes, a miner could wed the heir to Sol corp?"

  "Ah, no. I didn't mean that," Mica said. "With a simple yes, Simon could marry me. And the rest will work itself out—whether I remain corp or not. If the shareholders don't approve my marriage, then I'm not. Either way, I'll have Simon."

  Where would they go? Mica grinned a little to think of him taking one of the other offers—the modeling gig. He'd never.

  A media bob whizzed in front of Lana's face. She spoke directly to it. "You heard that correctly. Mica Sol claims she will give up corp life to marry her consort. Is it the stuff of fairy tales, or is it a fabrication to cover the truth? Does Simon Miner still live after being so grievously wounded, or are they covering up his death to forestall more violence?"

  Mica sputtered, speechless for a second. What kind of interview was this?

  A low voice behind her answered the question. "Oh, I'm still kicking, I think, and I'll take a fairy tale, Princess, if you'll still have me."

  ***

  Simon flinched as the bobs whizzed to circle him, and the same panic that had assailed him at The Tank a few days back gripped him now. He'd had maybe a couple of hundred eyes on him then; now the whole sector was watching. But if he was going to stand next to Mica in this life, he had to stand the weight of those gazes, too. He'd keep working, of course—in the mines, or wherever—but it seemed he'd always be a mere mortal. He was born in the dirt, and that was okay by him.

  Mica had turned a bit to see him—he grinned at her surprise—and she rose to face him. "You shouldn't be upright!" She moved to examine him. "Pia put you up to this."

  Lana was saying something, but Simon didn't bother listening. He'd heard enough from her.

  "Pia thinks we're better together," he said. "And I agree."

  Mica made a face, but her eyes were suddenly shining. "I supposed I won't kill her, but let's get you back and tucked in. I'm done here, anyway."

  It took all his strength not to waver on his feet, but he stood fast. Pia had made him memorize some cheesy line that she'd thought was romantic, but he couldn't remember it now. Something about how Mica glitters—wait, how did it go? The riches of—no, that wasn't right either. All the gold in the— No.

  But after Mica had just told everyone that she would give up everything for him, he had to say something.

  And the truth was…

  He opened his hands to Mica, palms up. The lacerations were healing, but were still stark on his skin. "This is all I have."

  Meaning nothing. And not for want of trying.

  She glanced at his empty hands, and then looked back into his eyes. She lifted her chin a little, as if she were going to say something in return, but whatever it was seemed to get stuck in her throat.

  She reached out instead and lightly placed her hands in his, filling them.

  Even this deep within the palace, he could hear the roar from the street. Seemed Pia had been right about the power of public opinion.

  Riding the high, Simon felt himself go greedy. He'd take her hands, but he wanted all of her. He pulled her into his arms and captured her mouth with his. He spent the rest of his strength kissing her, and when they were done, they were both shaking.

  Mica giggled at their shared pallor and lack of balance. "We're a pair, aren't we?"

  "Yeah," he answered, "we are."

  Epilogue

  Mica rested her forehead on the glass of the light shuttle as it lifted away from the planetary transport, a space barge with more elegance inside than out. Simon circled her waist from behind and watched with her as they winged over the Nyer Transit Hub to dock in the secure corp zone, where the Sol shareholders were meeting.

  "We could still make a break for it and marry on our own terms." Mica lifted her gaze from the kilometers of fitted metal that comprised the Hub to the pinpricks of light beyond. The stars offered limitless potential; the contracts for her marriage to Simon were much more confining.

  "If that's what you really want." Simon snuggled her closer.

  She chuckled as warmth spread through her. "You'd give up your stake of red?"

  His claim to the solyite had been reinstated with the overturn of his conviction. The families of his old crew also had regained their shares. The stake system was in the process of being amended to address the inequities that had limited its potential—just one of the many reforms she and Simon dreamed about.

  He nuzzled her neck. "I don't care where we go—even the wilds of some gamma class planet—as long as you're mine."

  "Oi!" Jace said behind them. "I bloody well care
!"

  Mica watched Simon grin in the reflection of the glass. Their security detail, Jace and Otis, had come along to see to their protection, or rather, for the free ride to sample the myriad pleasures that the Hub had to offer.

  Mica made a wry face at Simon's reflection. "Why did we hire them again?"

  Simon sobered. "Because they will only do their job when their meal ticket is at risk, and the rest of the time, they will leave us alone."

  "Ah, yes— " she turned her face up to receive a deep and lingering kiss, a precursor to what would be a private engagement celebration "—alone."

  Read more about the Sol sisters

  in HOTTER ON THE EDGE 2...

  Available now!

  GOLD LIKE THE SUN

  Erin Kellison

  It’s the wedding of the millennium! Princess Pilar Sol and Hakan Frust are celebrating their union with sector fetes full of celebrity and pomp. Theirs is an arranged marriage to preserve the vital commerce of the Nyer Transit Hub, and yet Pilar is madly, unreservedly, passionately in love. She has all the excitement she has long dreamed of—and a little more than she bargained for when she discovers that Hakan’s grasping family wants her dead.

  Hakan has done everything in his power to save his inheritance—the bustling but impoverished Hub—including marrying a wealthy princess for her dowry. His heart isn’t supposed to be part of the deal, but Pilar has all the beauty and joy his life lacks. When Hakan runs afoul of his uncle’s associates—criminal in nature, violent in approach—he refuses to risk Pilar, not for money, not even for his life.

  But Pilar is not so easily cast aside, and negotiations turn into a gamble with the future of the sector in the balance. Hakan is about to learn about the high stakes his bride will hazard, as he now has far more to lose—and win—than he ever believed possible: a future brighter than gold.

  ***

  Pilar extended her leg so that the narrow blade of her very expensive shoe crossed the neck of the black-clawed, purple-coiffed ‘stylist’ who’d just tried to poison her. “Who sent you?”

  And how in Sol-hell did she get access to her boudoir? Anger and alarm crawled along Pilar’s nerves. Had to be someone high level—she took a deep breath to ease her racing heart. Someone with Frust family access—another breath, since the first hadn’t worked. Her panic wouldn’t subside, so she fine-tuned the emotion with a little humor.

  “That’s not how Elixir Suprema is used,” she told her assassin.

  They could’ve at least sent someone who knew something about hair. Elixir was used to protect the hair’s shaft against the heat of the curling prong, not as a spray while the hair was still wet.

  “Any self-respecting stylist would know,” she added.

  Pilar had experienced her share of assassins—the scavengers of Sol planet were bent on murdering her family—but at least they were intelligent about their attacks. And they didn’t waste Elixir, or wouldn’t if they knew its worth and how hard it was to get more.

  With an ascending chime at the door, Reina bustled into the suite. Pilar’s gilt gown flowed from a hanger held aloft in her attendant’s hand. Reina hesitated, midstride, when she spotted the stylist panting on the carpet under Pilar’s high-bladed shoe. Then she lifted a brow at her mistress. “Problem?”

  Reina wasn’t one for hysteria either.

  “She wasted my Elixir.”

  “Not a crime deserving the death penalty,” Reina observed.

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Pilar muttered. “But she did also try to kill me.”

  “Well, then,” Reina said, brightening, as she hooked the hanger on a light fixture so that the gown’s train wouldn’t touch the rug. “By all means, proceed.”

  The stylist’s eyes bugged. Her breath was sketchy. Pilar was frustrated enough to slash the assassin’s carotid, if only because security was going to grow unbearable because of her. Necessarily so.

  Nevertheless, Pilar kept her mood light. “Mama would tell me not to start my new life in a puddle of blood.”

  Reina smiled. “Your mother would also say ruthlessness is sometimes necessary.” This wasn’t her attendant’s first assassin attack either. Pilar almost pitied the assassin Reina’s impending questioning.

  The stylist started a slow reach for the poisoned needle she’d dropped when Pilar had flipped her over onto her back. Her assassin was an optimist.

  “How pathetic would it be if I admitted missing Mama already?” Pilar mused aloud. With Reina here, confidence replaced her momentary anxiety.

  She could do this, assassins included. Of course she could. She was a Sol, and she would honor her family’s name with courage.

  She couldn’t help that she missed her mother, and Mica, her sister, who’d just come home from some survey on a beta class world. Mica had been off discovering new vistas and creatures. Something to do with cataloguing species of feral whatnot, camping in the dire reaches of a dark planet. It sounded grubby and uncomfortable…and absolutely amazing.

  Now, at long last, it was Pilar’s turn. Adventure and excitement, and Hakan in her bed at night. Warmth rushed her just thinking about him. The way his mouth moved against her skin, his exacting and torturous attention to her most sensitive places.

  She exhaled satisfaction. “I’m in too good a mood for murder.” Her life was finally beginning. And so far, it was everything she’d hoped for. “How about we hit Cain and Abel at the zero hour?” Cain and Abel was an infamous Hub nightclub, full of high-end sin and debauchery. It was frequently featured on the celebrity comms.

  “Princess,” Reina lifted one of the stylist’s plastic gloves and fitted her hand inside with an elastic snap, “you’re booked solid for the next three days.” She stooped to retrieve the needle before the stylist’s crawling fingers could reach it and sniffed the metal. “Epitapherin.”

  Pilar looked down at her assassin, disappointed. “Paralysis? That’s a slow, cruel way to go.” She was genuinely hurt. Someone wanted her to suffer. “So uncalled for.”

  And now Reina was going to be even more careful, take more precautions. All warranted, Pilar had to concede. But not the way she’d wanted to start her new life. A dark light went on inside her mind—she’d have to find a disguise to get about freely.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Reina said.

  Mind-reader. Pilar wouldn’t let her mood sour. She’d arrived. Her new home was the most thrilling, diverse city in the sector. Her homeworld of Sol was verdant and beautiful, but it moved to the rhythm of the mica mines from which it got its fortune, and not the beat of her heart. So what if the Frusts had enemies? All corp families did.

  Reina gingerly put the needle aside. At her nod, Pilar removed the blade of her shoe. In one, swift movement, Reina both lifted and tricked the assassin into a tight hold. Father employed the best, though he’d also seen to it that his daughters could take care of themselves.

  The door’s ascending scale chimed again. Pilar inhaled, ready to take on the next thing. So busy—people coming and going. Energy thrummed in the air.

  Hakan ducked his head inside. “You decent?”

  Pilar couldn’t contain her smile. “Give me a second and I won’t be.”

  Get HOTTER ON THE EDGE 2

  TO BUY A WIFE

  KC Klein

  Chapter One

  Hudson couldn't decide which was worse, the stench of the rotting heads on the wooden spikes, or the flies that buzzed around his face and tickled his nose. He made a swipe at the filthy insects—the flies then. A hot breeze blew in from the east, kicking up the red dust and carrying the stink of decomposing flesh his way. He breathed through his mouth. Nope, had to be the scent.

  An old man, bent over and with one shoulder higher than the other, shuffled into him. With a reflex sharpened from years of base-born survival, Hudson had his axe off his back and blade connecting to the protruding bone on the man's wrist.

  "Release the pouch, old man, or the hand comes with it."

  The
man's twisted digits unfurled. Hudson pushed him away, but was careful not to knock him down. In a crowd this size, a man that age might not get back up. Hudson strung the pouch around his neck and tucked his life savings under his shirt. An execution always drew an audience, and an audience always had its share of thieves looking for an easy mark. Things must be desperate if the pick pockets thought him easy.

  Hudson stretched to his full height and peered over to where the crowd was the thickest. An execution block had been set up in the middle of Portal City. Severed heads decorated the tall, spear-like poles along the back. Other than a few dirty children, there were only men for as far as he could see. And all were here for the same purpose he was—to buy a wife. Twice a year the prisons were emptied, and any person with enough gold could buy a wife or a laborer. Except he'd been late, his horse had thrown a shoe, and the auctions of the female prisoners were over. The only thing left now, was the execution.

  Today the crowd was more rabid than usual. Hudson had heard the whispers that floated on the stench of unwashed bodies and excrement. Woman…Beautiful woman…Beheading.

  If there were truth in those words, then this would be the first female execution since he'd been a child—thirty some odd years ago. Women could get away with murder—most had. With only the rich able to afford a wife and the stillborn rate of female babies on the rise, women were a commodity and everybody wanted one.

  Hudson hated Portal City. It was no coincidence that the stronghold of the Elders' power was in the worst cesspool of humanity. Wanted and starving men alike lurked behind every shanty hut waiting to escape to the one place Elder law didn't reach—Dark Planet. But Hudson wasn't wanted or starving, and since Elder law stated only married men could hold land, this cesspool of humanity was Hudson's best chance of getting a wife.