by Kris Delake
Misha slipped in the main door, noting how much cooler the interior was than the garden. Some of that was the lack of light. This place had ceiling light so white that it seemed harsh.
Even so, they had tried to dress up the entry to make people comfortable. Tall green plants stood in corners, and blooming plants covered tables. The chairs had been both attractive and comfortable once upon a time, but were no longer. Too many nervous butts had fidgeted in those seats, too many worried people had rested their weight on their elbows on the upholstered arms.
He didn’t sit. He had never sat down here. He made a point of that.
Instead, he stood near the desk, which wasn’t a desk at all. It was a barrier separating the entry from the rest of the office complex.
He didn’t recognize the woman behind it. She was doughy from sitting too much—that often happened to the office workers, because they were no longer required to physically train, just encouraged to. Her hair was gray, and so was her skin. Even her eyes were gray, and seemed just a bit faded.
“Mikael Yurinovich Orlinski,” he said. “I had to come here to get my guest cleared.”
She nodded, without saying anything. Then she handed him a tablet. “Sign in. We’ll be with you when we can.”
He signed his name, then looked theatrically around the entry. He was the only person here. He didn’t want to tell her that he had another appointment after this. If he told the woman he was meeting with Kerani, she would think he was pulling rank, and might make him wait even longer.
But the woman ignored him, and he knew if he protested, this would take even longer than it already had.
He didn’t pace because he’d once been told that pacing in the entry was annoying. He just stood between two chairs and leaned on the only empty bit of wall space.
He crossed his arms and closed his eyes most of the way, watching the room through his eyelashes.
It only took a minute.
“Mikael Yurinovich Orlinski,” she said, as if she had a room full of people and had no idea which one he was.
He stood up, then met her gaze and smiled at her. She had opened a small door in that desk/barricade, and he walked through it.
“Room 53,” she said, without giving him instructions.
He didn’t need them. He’d been to Room 53 before. He had actually gotten lost looking for it the first time because he expected the room numbers to follow some sort of pattern.
Instead, they seemed to be random, and Room 53 was only a few yards from the front desk.
The person inside was his old sparring partner, Carl Rigley. Rigley still looked incredibly strong. He was a head taller than Misha and a bit broader. He sat on the edge of one of the biggest chairs in the room.
There were four others, as if someone was going to have a party.
Misha was surprised to see Rigley here. Rigley had been a great field operative, one of the best. He’d managed to flatten Misha half a dozen times after Misha thought his training was done.
Rigley must have seen Misha’s surprise on his face, because Rigley slapped a hand against his leg.
“Distinctive limp,” he said. “Too many visible scars that can no longer be covered up. An internal injury that we’re not really going to discuss except to say that if you hit me wrong, I’ll crater. No longer cleared for field duty. Just in case you were wondering.”
Misha grabbed one of the chairs and sat across from him. “Sorry to hear it, Carl.”
“Yeah, me too,” Rigley said. “But theoretically this is cushy.”
Misha understood the theoretically. He didn’t want to leave the field either.
“You brought us a stranger,” Rigley said.
Misha nodded. “And you let her inside the Guild. What’s with that?”
“She’s with you,” Rigley said.
“Bullshit,” Misha said. “She should’ve been stopped in one of the decon rooms if not in the station. What gives?”
“Special clearance,” Rigley said. “Besides, you said this is a matter of some urgency.”
Misha made a face. “You know who she is.”
“Yeah,” Rigley said. “Seems we had a warning about her. Someone inside the Guild wanted to see her up close and personal.”
That made Misha even more nervous. “Kerani?”
Rigley shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not my business.”
Misha frowned. Kerani never let anyone in the Guild that easily. “Don’t you find that odd?”
“My purpose is not to question my superiors but to enforce their directives.” Rigley did not sound pleased. “I’m to find out what you and your lady friend need, and see if we can provide it.”
“What do you mean?” Misha asked.
Rigley rolled his eyes. “Either I’m not good at bureaucratic speech yet or you aren’t listening. Is she being recruited?”
“No,” Misha said.
“Then why is she here?”
“To speak to our investigative branch. We have a possible threat to the Guild that needs someone with top-notch investigative skills to look into it.”
“What kind of threat?” Rigley asked.
“Are you asking or is that a bureaucratic thing? Because I’d rather not discuss this too much.” Misha didn’t want to admit to anyone that Rikki had been hired to kill Kerani. That would cause more trouble than it solved.
Rigley leaned back in the chair, with a look of disappointment on his face. “It’s just me,” he said. “And mostly it’s because there’s no excitement here. Don’t retire, Misha. There’s no adrenaline inside these walls.”
“I didn’t think you retired,” Misha said.
“Not voluntarily,” Rigley said. “The injuries retired me. You stay clean.”
“Yes, sir,” Misha said.
The door opened, and the gray woman came in. She handed Misha a tablet. “This is where you may take your friend,” she said. “Nowhere else. See that she leaves before the day is out.”
Misha took the tablet but didn’t look at it. Clearly the woman had been listening in.
Misha’s gaze met Rigley’s. “Nice chat between friends, huh?”
Rigley shrugged. “Between friends and friends of friends. Such is the way of the office.”
Misha shook his head. “I don’t envy you,” he said as he stood up to leave.
Rigley sighed. “I don’t see why anyone ever would,” he said.
Chapter 52
They sat on a bench, with their backs against the rough stone wall, their feet extended on the large tiles that made up the sidewalk encircling the courtyard. Sunlight dappled through the trees here, and some of it warmed Rikki’s feet.
She looked relaxed.
She didn’t feel relaxed.
She wanted to get up and run out of this place.
“Misha kissed you,” Hazel said, sounding like a teenager. A nosy teenager. “Misha doesn’t touch people, let alone kiss them.”
Misha touched Rikki all the time, in ways she didn’t want to talk about. And that was the most chaste kiss he had ever given her.
Rikki shrugged.
“You’re not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?” Hazel said.
“I’ll let Misha fill you in,” Rikki said.
“Smart and cautious,” Hazel said with a touch of annoyance in her voice.
“And she has big tits,” said another voice. “Misha always liked big tits.”
A petite woman with dark cropped hair stood just inside one of the doorways. As she stepped out, she tugged on the collar of her shirt which made her own breasts move.
They were large as well.
“Don’t start, Liora,” Hazel said.
“Oh, why not?” Liora said, looking at Rikki. “Does he spend a lot of time on them? Breasts are his favorite thing, after all.”
Rikki’s cheeks heated. She hadn’t expected this. She was glad her face was in shadow.
“He does touch people, Hazel,” Liora said. “When he fucks them.”
“For God’s sake, Liora,” Hazel said. “You won the title of Bitch Queen of the Guild ten years ago. No one’s fighting you for it this afternoon.”
Liora smiled. She was pretty in a feral way. “I just wanted to see what Misha was dipping into these days. Athletic, pretty, but it’s those breasts. And you’re probably a bit cruel. He likes mean women because they remind him of his mother.”
“Which explains why he was attracted to you,” Hazel snapped. “But he realized you made his mother seem nice, so he broke up with you. Years ago. So lay off, Liora.”
Years ago. Rikki didn’t move. But she remembered what Misha had said: One serious relationship when I was too young to know better. It ended badly a decade ago.
This must have been it. And now Rikki understood why it ended badly.
“Oh, why should I?” Liora asked. “Misha brought her into our world. We can toy with her all we want. Tell me, does he bury his face in them, Miss Rikki Bastogne? Does he—”
“I don’t want to hear this,” Hazel said. “I like Misha, but not that way, and you are putting images in my head that will never leave. So kindly shut up.”
Rikki wasn’t listening to Hazel. Or, at least, not listening closely. Because Liora had called her by name.
Now Rikki had put her identification into the system, but did that mean everyone had access to it? She would have to ask Misha. Because that seemed odd.
Rikki stretched her legs out and spread them just a little, making the movement suggestive.
“I could tell you all about our sex life if you want,” she said calmly. “Detail by detail. It’ll take a while. I don’t mind, since it’s clear you need something to jump-start yours.”
Hazel made a small sound. It might have been amusement.
“Misha told me all about you,” Rikki lied. “He called your relationship serious—”
“It was,” Liora said. “Poor man. The end of it shattered him.”
It was all Rikki could do to keep the contempt off her face. Instead, she decided to go for fake sympathy. And she lied.
“Actually, that’s not what he said, exactly. He said the breakup was bad. He also said he wished he had been a little more honest with you. Because he says he can never ever love anyone. That lovely mother of his made sure of that as well.”
Liora leaned her head back slightly, as if she had been slapped. Had she thought he loved her so long ago? Or had she thought that he loved Rikki, and she wanted to destroy that?
Either way, it didn’t matter. Because Rikki was telling her plainly, without going into detail, that her relationship with Misha was a purely sexual one, and that Liora could poke all she wanted, but she would never upset Rikki.
“And yes,” Rikki said. “He does tend to focus on breasts.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Hazel said. “I’m not allowed to leave. Can we stop this? The next thing you know, you’ll both take off your shirts and compare.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” Misha was standing at the edge of the path. His eyes were twinkling. “Although I do believe that Rikki’s are not only bigger, they’re also the original model with no enhancement. Which means, Liora, my dear, they have more sensation than yours ever did.”
Liora glared at Misha with such hatred that Rikki’s breath caught.
“You really are a son of a bitch,” Liora said.
“Yes,” he said calmly, “and you are, as Hazel said, the Bitch Queen of the Guild. I really don’t think anyone is going to challenge you for that title.”
“You heard that?” Hazel said, standing up. “You could have interrupted ten minutes ago. I had to listen to all this crap.”
Misha’s grin widened. “Me too.” His gaze met Rikki’s, so full of desire that she wished they had a private room. “I had no idea that Rikki was willing to share the details of our sex life.”
Rikki grinned back at him. “I never had an interested audience before.”
“I’m not interested,” Liora said. “I just wanted you to know you’re not that important.”
Misha gave her a sideways glance that had no amusement in it. He seemed to be contemplating her, as if something she had said caught his attention.
But Liora was ignoring him. She had focused on Rikki, which annoyed Rikki to no end.
For a woman that no one considered important, Rikki sure was getting a lot of attention.
“Oh, I know I’m not important,” Rikki said as blithely as she could. Misha turned toward her, and smiled at her, from his position just behind Liora. He knew Rikki had lied about what he had told her, and he didn’t care. He seemed to be enjoying the discussion. “That’s what made these last few weeks fun. They were about sex and nothing else. I’m sure you’ve had relationships like that too, Liora. Or do you call them relationships?”
She glanced at Hazel who threw her hands in the air and stood up.
“Am I excused now?” Hazel asked. “Because I was raised to keep my love life private—and I would if I had one. But I really, really don’t like hearing about other people’s.”
“I’ll take it from here,” Misha said.
Hazel shook her head. “I’m sure you will,” she said with an odd glance at Rikki. “C’mon, Liora. Let’s leave these two alone.”
“I’m not going with you,” Liora said and pivoted. She headed down a side path, the branches of various plants rustling in her wake.
Rikki stood up. Misha walked toward her, and slipped his arm around her.
“That was fun,” she said.
He kissed her behind her ear, sending a shiver through her. “You know it’s not impersonal for me,” he whispered.
“I’m beginning to figure that out,” she said.
He tugged on her earlobe gently with his teeth, and then pulled her close.
“Let’s finish up here,” he said softly, “and then go back to Prospera. I know a wonderful hotel with the best room service in the city.”
“I have a hunch I’m not going to care about room service for several hours after we return,” she said. “Provided there’s other service.”
“Oh, there will be,” he said. “You can trust me on that.”
Chapter 53
Misha wanted to get Rikki out of the Guild as quickly as he could, partly because he had found that discussion so incredibly erotic, and partly because he couldn’t get past the feeling that something was very wrong at the Guild, something he sensed but couldn’t quite see.
It bothered him that Liora had found him on Oyal. It bothered him that she had known about Rikki then, and that she had known that Rikki went to Krell.
Now it bothered him that Rikki had gotten into the Guild so easily and that one of the first people she talked with was Liora.
Still, he had enjoyed watching Rikki best Liora verbally. Not many people could do that. He had been able to—that had been part of the attraction, the fights that they had—but it quickly wore thin, particularly when he realized that Liora was as empty emotionally as he was.
Rikki wasn’t empty. She was fiery and passionate. But she could set it aside, which was probably something she had learned as a child. And when he was near her, he felt fiery and passionate, and not like himself at all.
His fingers had wandered to the side of her breast, probably because of the discussion about them. Liora had been right; he liked breasts. But more to the point, he liked Rikki’s. He preferred them, and it drove him nuts that they were loose under the weave of that shirt. He wanted to capture them in his hands, and he didn’t dare…
Nor did he dare continue with these thoughts when he needed to concentrate on being here. Rikki hadn’t had any training. She didn’t know what kind of people she had been talking to. Rikki was good, but he doubted she could take Liora in a fair fight.
And knowing Liora, the fight wouldn’t be fair.
He walked with his arm around Rikki down the path. If someone had asked a few hours ago, he would have said he was doing this to maintain their cover story. But t
hat wasn’t really true. He wanted to continue touching her, and he wanted to protect her.
She didn’t belong in the Guild, she wasn’t a member, and the others were letting her know that. Even Hazel wanted to keep her distance, and that wasn’t like her.
The office had only given him permission to take Rikki to the investigative unit, and then she had to leave. He didn’t mind. He didn’t want to stay either.
The investigative unit had its housing in the newest part of the Guild, not far from this part of the courtyard. The unit upgraded its technology whenever the Guild did, and finally the directors decided to put the unit as close to the new tech as it possibly could.
Strangely, though, the unit’s building was open, with courtyards of its own, balconies on the second and third floors, and an open patio filled with tables and comfortable seating areas.
Kerani explained it to Misha once. She said that most members of the investigative unit never left the building, so they needed a comfortable place to work. The investigators who did their work on the fly, like he had always imagined investigators would, were the elite of the group—and the only ones with people skills.
He slipped in a side door, his arm still around Rikki. She didn’t say anything, and moved as silently as she did.
He avoided the unit’s reception area because he already had passes for both of them. Instead, he went to the forensic accounting division. He slid his arm down Rikki’s side, and found her hand, wrapping his fingers in hers. Then he led her up a narrow flight of stairs to the second floor.
The forensic accounting division had one of those balconies. The doors were open, letting in the sunlight and the fresh breeze, which was good, because the division itself smelled of hot equipment, old food, and sweat.
Several accountants sat on various chairs, working on tablets, but only one sat at a desk, and he was the one Misha needed to talk to. He frowned. And of course, that person had to be Giles Fauchet.
Misha had known Fauchet as long as he had known Liora. In fact, Misha discovered after his breakup with Liora that she had been sleeping with Fauchet as well.
Fauchet had once had a rugged handsomeness, but that had gotten buried in his fleshy face. Or maybe Misha was just biased. Still, it pleased him to note that Fauchet was no longer the trim man he had been a decade ago. He had thickened out. And some of that thickness was not muscle.
