“No, no stomach, Kylariz. You call yourself a raider? You make all of us a laughing stock with your ‘code.’ ‘No women.’ ‘No children.’ Do you also say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ when you take a cargo?” He snagged Dina by her hair and, like a fish caught on a jig, hauled her to him with ease.
Dina stared at Kyl, her eyes round, but his were on his enemy.
“First you lose your precious Megaera and now your fancy pet. Tell me, which loss will you mourn more? That of the ship, I’ll wager. You have no idea what to do with a play-pretty like this, do you? Well, I do. I’m going to enjoy this more than you’ll ever know.”
While Vaizya spat his taunts, Kyl caught his breath and stood. “Relish your moment. It won’t last. My only problem is deciding whether to kill you or just make you suffer.”
“Suffer? Like this?” Vaizya aimed the stinger and fired another shot, this time tattooing Kyl on the right thigh with sharp needles of pain. Kyl’s leg buckled, and he slumped forward, somersaulting toward Vaizya. When he rolled up to his feet, though, the killing knife was firmly in his left hand, blade upward. His momentum slammed him into Dina, and she screamed again, twisting away from the dagger. Vaizya released her and tried to grab Kyl’s arm with his now freed hand, but Kyl was not to be denied.
Holding the hand with the stinger securely against the wall with his right hand, the blade flashed in Kyl’s left. Vaizya’s shriek seemed to issue directly from the gaping beak of the bird-head on the haft of his knife as Kyl cleanly sliced Vaizya’s trigger finger at the first knuckle. Kyl flipped the knife in the air and, seizing the handle blade down, slammed the rounded side of the haft into Vaizya’s temple. The scream died, and the man slumped to the floor, blood gushing from his finger. The impression of a bird’s eye was clearly visible in the reddening mark on Vaizya’s forehead.
Kyl wiped the blade on Repere’s shirt and slid it neatly into the boot scabbard. “That’s for the Megaera. Let’s hear you boast about that in the tappers,” he whispered, giving his unconscious rival a taunting slap across his face.
Kyl flicked his eyes to Dina. “Did he hurt you? If he did, I’ll finish the job now.”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Count yourself lucky, then, Vaiz, that you lost only a finger in this and not your prick.”
Kyl had a strong desire to kill the man anyway, but the space rat had lots of friends who would be only too happy to avenge his death. Kyl didn’t need any more enemies than he already had.
“Come on.” He roughly grabbed Dina’s arm and pulled her quickly to the bay itself, where Vaizya’s ship, the Incubus, sat in silence like a dozing bird of prey. The loading ramp was down, and several mechanized pallets and dollies, all empty, littered the bay. By the looks of the ship, Vaizya had been preparing to leave when he’d been interrupted by Dina’s appearance. Kyl dragged her up the ramp and took a quick look inside. The cargo hatch was still open, and the cargo crib was full to overflowing. Only the best for Vaiz. It was too good an opportunity to let pass. He quickly locked down all the stowage panels, closed the cargo hatch, and shoved Dina forward. “Get in.”
“I’m not going with you!”
“The hell you aren’t. Get in before I plant my boot on your tender ass and kick you in,” he growled. She was smart enough to know not to argue further. He propelled her forward and into one of the command seats. “Secure yourself, and keep your damn mouth shut.”
He sat beside her and keyed a command, but the console was locked. Kyl swore softly, though in fact it was to be expected and only a minor inconvenience. He pulled a slim, rectangular panel from his utility belt, a device known to space rats as a “punch,” and fastened it over the console lock. Kyl’s professional instruments were the finest, and this particular punch tool was no exception. Hard to come by and dear in price, it paid for itself once again. The hangar door opened, the loading ramp retracted, the hatch was sealed, and the engines came to life.
Kyl requested takeoff from Paradise Control, such as it was, and the Incubus was granted an immediate pattern.
The ship hovered briefly, eased forward, then shot out of the hangar door. Moments later, Ror’s atmosphere was left far behind, the small red and brown world shrinking to a drop of dark blood in the sky behind them. Once in flight, with all systems checked and functioning, Kyl sat back, closed his eyes, and drew a long breath. He forced himself to calm down and take stock of his situation. Not bad, he thought. I have only a dead body, an enemy roused to a killing fever, and an irate female to worry about. A cakewalk. Thankfully, the hellion had remained quiet while he’d piloted the craft. He sighed again. The merciful silence was about to come to an end.
He opened his eyes, turned his head, and looked into the gray eyes that blazed at him with sparks of silver. “That was, by far, the most foolhardy, asinine, and brainless stunt I have ever seen anyone pull,” he said. “Did all my warnings about this place die in the vacuum of your head? How could an IIB agent be so stupid? Did you really think you could waltz around a city like Paradise, advertise yourself as being alone, and not be molested or abducted? I’m amazed that four pilots actually had enough scruples to let you be before our friend Myg grabbed you.”
Dina, tightly restrained in the seat, tossed her head, sending the white gold mass of her hair into further disarray, and aimed her chin at him like a weapon. “Well, forgive me, Captain Know-It-All. No, I didn’t expect to be abducted right off the street. I’ve never lived or worked anywhere where decent women are lifted off the streets as casually as a pickpocket lifts a purse.”
“Then you’ve lived a damn sheltered life, and you’re due for a rude awakening.”
She had no response to that, other than a defiant stare before she undid the restraints on the seat, got up, and descended to the lower deck.
Kyl sighed again. “You’re welcome,” he whispered.
It took long moments for his temper to cool. It wasn’t just the thought of losing her that maddened him, but the knowledge that she’d been in Vaizya’s hands. But even that wasn’t the worst of it. He’d rescued her, true, but he’d lost her heart. If he’d ever had it. For all his power, there’d been only one other time in his life that he’d felt so helpless in finding and hanging on to love.
He prayed his voyage with Dina wouldn’t be a repeat of the Crimson Rain.
DINA TOOK REFUGE in the small cabin on the mid-deck. It appeared Kyl was right and that she had, indeed, been foolish. She’d never been more thankful to see him than when he burst through Repere’s door, but he was hardly in a mood to be receptive to a “thank you,” so she kept quiet. She was now in the position she had been trying to avoid. She was stuck with a man who thought of her as nothing more than a shipboard mistress. A man she had feelings for, in spite of her desire not to.
After a few hours, he opened the hatch to the cabin. As on the Tisiphone, his tall form seemed to fill the room.
“Why did you leave me?” he demanded, his face unreadable.
“I told you. I won’t be part of a raider’s crew.”
“I was a long way from putting a working crew into space. You could have stayed in the meantime.”
“To what end? Say good-bye now or six months from now, what’s the difference?”
“I thought you wanted to be with me.”
“I do.”
“Vaizya made more sense than you do. At least I knew what he wanted.”
“Yes, blood and death is all you really understand, isn’t it? Fine, I’ll spell it out. I don’t want to be ‘The Roven’s Mistress.’”
The shaded eyes blinked, and the gray shadows beneath his eyes darkened.
“ ’Tis what I am. And I don’t recall asking you to be my mistress. I asked you to be a member of my crew. You do have hands—hands with which you can do your share of work.”
Dina felt her cheeks burn. How
could she have thought she cared for this man? There seemed to be no end to his chilling displays. She whipped her hand up and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Expecting him to expertly deflect the blow, she was caught off guard by the sound of the sharp crack against his skin and the sudden pain in her hand. His head pivoted from the force of the blow, and she waited until he slowly turned his head back to face her. She bravely met his stare and waited for his reaction, fully expecting him to strike her back.
The slitted eyes that met hers smoldered, and if the eyes of hell were any indication, he wanted to do more than slap her. It took all her will not to back down from the look he gave her.
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow you work. You’re going to learn every inch of this bucket and know how everything works. Then you’re going to learn how to become a member of my crew. You’ll learn star charts, shipping lanes, schedules, and port cities. You’ll get to know the ships, pilots, what they carry, what it’s worth, and where the cargo can be sold. You’ll learn my codes, my signals, what to say, and what not to say. And above all, you’ll learn how to obey me utterly. This is my ship, my command, my responsibility. You count for nothing. So, one last thing. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you don’t like it, so no whining, no crying, no complaints, and no excuses. You’re going to learn to sheath that sharp tongue of yours, and you will obey my every word without question. Do you understand?”
Gods, how she hated him at that moment. In a voice as cold and even as she could manage, she replied. “Yes, Captain. I understand.”
His stare burned into her a moment longer, then he turned without another word and ascended to the flight deck, leaving her alone. Her legs buckled, and she sank, shaking, to the narrow bed, stunned at what had happened. She supposed she deserved every venomous word after slapping his face, but the thought didn’t make her feel any better. She was stuck on this ship, alone with him, with nowhere to run to.
She pushed all feeling for him out of her mind and resolved not to think about the past few days, when he had made such sweet love to her. That was the past and over with. She would play his game, and go one up. If he wanted cold, he would get cold. And she would be the best damn crew member he had ever had.
An hour later, though, as she lay down and made herself as comfortable as possible on the small bed, all her fine resolutions flew out of her head like a roost of startled birds from a tree. She cried, and once the tears started flowing she made no attempt to staunch them. She morbidly thought that if she cried enough this night, she would cry no more in the coming months. Incubus. Nightmare. The ship was aptly named.
She had a feeling her nightmare was only beginning.
Chapter Twelve
Pursuit
THE NEXT DAYS passed swiftly, but not fast enough for Rayn. He burned to be spacebound, but, as usual, there were formalities to be endured. Both he and Sage were sworn in as members of the Sundrion, and both were bestowed with the title of Ambassador. Rayn’s probationary status was lifted, and his arm ring was accordingly revised, as was Sage’s.
Sage, through his connections, was the first to learn of their new ship. “They’ve given us Ambassador Salhjon’s ship, the Sun Dog.”
Rayn’s excitement at the news was subdued. “Sun Dog? What kind of a name is that for a ship?”
“Well, it’s really the Sun God, but being a Glacian ship, it doesn’t get much respect around the port.”
Sage laughed, but Rayn was not amused. “I don’t care about that. Is it a good ship?”
“She’s not huge, but she’s a sound ship and fast. She’ll serve our purpose.”
“And the crew?”
“Small. Just the ship’s captain, an engineer, and a doctor in addition to us and Salhjon.”
Mention of a doctor reminded Rayn that they might not find Dina in good health. Hell, they might not find her alive. But they would find her, of that he had no doubt. If his quest brought no end save the raider’s death and the retrieval of Dina’s body, so be it.
Cyonne, as expected, had been upset, to say the least, at the news of Rayn’s deal with the Run. She accused him of violating their trust by contacting the Run without their knowledge.
“What I feel for Dina goes beyond love. You know that, Cee. I had to do this,” he’d explained.
“I understand that. But why drag Sage into this with you?”
“Because I can’t do this alone.” He couldn’t explain it any better in words and offered her the hot touch. She finally agreed, and before he and Sage departed on their journey, Rayn sat with Cyonne and allowed her access to his mind. She was quiet afterward, still not happy, but at least understanding.
“No good-byes, Cyonne,” he said. “We’ll return, I promise.”
Cyonne and Sage had their own private farewells, and the moment quickly came for departure. Rayn was relieved when the ship maneuvered out of its docking berth in the orbiting spaceport, and once the engines were fully engaged and their destination of Ror plotted and laid in, Rayn and Sage toasted the event with brandy.
“Success, cousin.”
“Success.”
But too many emotions filled Rayn to leave much room for celebrating or even anticipation of the outcome of their quest. Memories of Rayn’s first journey away from his homeland crowded out all else. So long ago, yet it seemed like yesterday. How different that voyage had been. That had been escape; this was pursuit. That had been alone, and this was with a soul-counselor.
The cabin comm beeped. It was Salhjon. “You’d better come up to the flight deck. I’ve received a response from the ISD to my query.”
Rayn, heart pounding, didn’t bother with the lift but ran up the narrow circular staircase connecting the two decks. Sage followed at his heels.
“Here. Read it for yourself,” said Salhjon, handing him a printout.
Sun God, Ambassador Salhjon, Greetings: ISD familiar with your subject Alecto Kylariz, known as the raider Phoenix. Commander Dhagaz requests you rendezvous with him, has information and is willing to aid you. Respond with ETA.
The coordinates were listed below.
“Good news, is it not?” said Salhjon, the smile on his face as smug as if he had written and sent the report himself.
Rayn looked at Sage, who lifted his brows.
“Looks like another brandy is in order, cousin.”
Rayn smiled and turned to Salhjon. “Yes, Ambassador, good news. I trust we’ll be responding in the affirmative.”
“Certainly. I’ll give the order to the captain.”
The ambassador never missed an opportunity to remind Rayn that he was in charge of this flight and that his rank was superior to that of Rayn and Sage. It galled Rayn, for he hadn’t liked the man since their first meeting in the Sundrion office, but Rayn let it go. There was a more important objective to be mindful of, and in case Rayn forgot it, Sage was always there to remind him.
Come, cousin, let’s have that last brandy before the sleep.
They shared a toast, but all Rayn tasted was the cold brew of revenge.
And it tasted sweet.
THERE WERE NO dreams in hypersleep. When Rayn awoke, the same thoughts sat in his mind as before he was put into the hibernation pod. He had assistance. He had resources. He had a friend at his side. And Dina was so close he could almost feel her.
After everyone was shed of the aftereffects of the sleep, the captain called a briefing.
“We’re five days from Eruthros. Commander Dhagaz and the Revanche are shadowing us just off our port bow. The commander has requested an immediate ship-to-ship rendezvous. Apparently he’s very interested in speaking with the two of you in person.” The captain eyed Rayn and Sage. “If this is agreeable, I’ll communicate our assent and initiate docking sequence.”
Salhjon cleared his throat. “Yes, Captain, you may proceed,�
� he directed, then shot a belated look at Rayn. “Oh, I do assume the two of you are in accord?”
Rayn bowed from the waist, deeper than good manners dictated, with his arms outstretched and hands supine. He really didn’t care if the ambassador was aware of the insult or not. “Of course, Ambassador.”
The captain nodded. “Come up to the flight deck if you wish. Docking in space is quite a sight if you haven’t experienced it.”
Salhjon declined the invitation, but Rayn and Sage were eager to observe the procedure. It was an exacting affair, with the precision of a military drill unit and the grace of a balletic dance.
“Fire thrusters,” announced the captain. “Engage docking autopilot. Systems go for lock.”
Rayn watched in fascination as the two metallic beasts drew ever closer in a bizarre mating dance of brazen barrel rolls and subtle nudges.
“Manual control. Offside jets only. Docking ports aligned.”
After what seemed hours, the two ships kissed as the dance came to an end. “Docking ring engaged. We have an airtight seal. Pressurize docking bay and module. Gentlemen, let’s greet our guest.”
The engineer and doctor remained on the flight deck, but Rayn, Sage, and Salhjon accompanied the captain through the airlock to the Sun God’s large bay. The captain opened the outer module hatch, allowing their visitor into the pressurized docking module, then closed the outer hatch and opened the inner hatch.
The figure that entered was tall, imposing and dressed in a helmet, anti-exposure pressure suit of gray and gold, gloves, and boots. Ambassador Salhjon waited for the man to remove his helmet before making introductions.
“Welcome aboard the Sun God, Commander. I’m Ambassador Salhjon. May I introduce Captain Kharth and Ambassadors D’anthara and Z’andarc of B’harata. It is Ambassador D’anthara’s quest that initiated this mission.”
Crimson Rain Page 19
