by May Sage
Many things should have crossed her mind. The possibility of his wishing to get her arrested should have been a pressing concern, for one. But in fact, the one thought stuck in her mind was that the hot, humid hair was making her hair all frizzy and she probably looked like a sweating, red-faced, curly sheep, while he looked like that. Dammit. That just wasn’t fair. No male should have been quite so pretty.
Dara opted to carry on packing the converters. If anything, it gave her a minute to gather her thoughts. When she was all done, she slowly straightened her spine. She purposefully turned to her customer, hand extended. “1100 marks, please.”
“1100?” the mage echoed, whistling. “For six stolen converters?”
She wasn’t going to react. She wasn’t going to react. She wasn’t going to—
“I think you can talk her down to 900,” the male had the gall to tell her client.
Dara pulled her lance out of the back of her belt, and thrust it forward, aiming at the mage’s face. She was surprised to see him block it with his hands, rather than waving his hand and using some sort of spell.
“1100,” she repeated forcefully, staring at the amphibian. “Or you’re welcome to go elsewhere.”
The female gestured at her servant, who paid before carrying their goods away.
Dara took her time to deliberately count the cash, and then she put it away. Only then did she lift her eyes to the stranger who was still standing in front of her small stand, smiling down at her.
She had no idea how to act, what to say, and the infuriating male wasn’t talking. He just stared at her way too intensely.
She wondered what he saw. Did he even recognize her, or was he trying to place her? She blushed at the thought that he might not even have known who she was, when she’d immediately remembered him.
But it would have been understandable. Unlike him, she’d changed a lot in the last three years. She was paler, for one. Spending most of her time in space had seen to that. A day under the suns of Ithel had helped, but that was only one difference. She’d also put on weight, because no one forced her to do exercises now she wasn’t part of the military. Her lifestyle was still plenty active, but eating what she wanted and not having to run anywhere unless she was chased, had added some curves to her once rail-thin frame. And she also was older. Not much, but females changed between age twenty-two and twenty-five.
“What do you want?” she finally asked, when she couldn’t take any more silent observation. Her tone was curt and uninviting.
“Depends,” the stranger shot back. “What else are you selling, princess?”
So he did remember her. She felt some weight lift off her shoulders and chastised herself for caring at all.
“I’m no princess, mage. Your people saw to that.”
There wasn’t much heat behind her words.
“True enough, but I have no name to call you, and princess certainly does suit.”
She had a snarky retort at the ready, but it occurred to her that she would have liked to know his name. Whenever her thoughts had wandered to her past, she’d thought of him as 'the mage'.
“They call me Rex, now.”
“Who are they?” he replied, and she shrugged.
“Everyone.”
The mage dug deeper. “I’m not everyone. What is your name?”
“Why, do you need it to cast a spell on me?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.
The mage laughed. “Perhaps. Tell me, or I shall have no other choice than to call you 'princess'. Rex doesn’t suit you.”
Arrogant ass. How did he presume to decide what suited her, when he didn’t know a thing about her?
She scoffed, but she did also answer. “I’m called Dara. You?”
“Dara,” he repeated in a low voice, testing the word on his lips. She liked how it sounded, soft, like a caress.
Dammit. Damn him. He had no business caressing anything with his annoyingly sensual voice.
“That’s better.”
“If you say so. And you owe me a name, remember.”
“Indeed. I’m Hart. What are you doing on Ithel, Dara? And in this neighborhood.”
They were downtown, a few blocks away from the main trade center, right in the heart of the black market. The laws of Ithel were strict and many substances were prohibited; most of the local guards had a tendency to ignore what was happening in these streets as long as they received a bottle or two of whiskey for keeping a blind eye.
“I’d tell you, but I fail to see how it’s any of your business.”
Something flashed in Hart’s eyes. A wiser woman might have been frightened, but somehow, she wasn’t.
“This street can be dangerous, princess.”
“You demanded my name,” she reminded him. “Use it.”
“Very well, Dara.”
Again, it felt too soft, too intimate. Maybe she should have let him stick to princess, after all.
“You’ll understand my surprise at finding a gently bred lady in one of the only seedy places on this entire planet.”
“Oh, it’s just my kind of place,” she replied, batting her long lashes. “And if it’s that seedy, what are you doing here? No, let me guess. You’re definitely not selling, so you’re here to acquire something. Probably not drugs… I know! Someone stole a poor old lady’s prize possession and you’re coming to the rescue.”
She said every word with as much disdain as she could convey.
The male chuckled. “Hardly. I’ve been spending time with my parents for a week now. I need a damn drink.”
Dara would have loved to have been able to mock him, but she understood that sentiment all too well. If alcohol had been prohibited on Vratis, she certainly would have sought it out wherever she could. Or she might have had to resort to murder instead, after a few hours at her family’s villa.
She pulled out the cooler tucked under her counter and got a small bottle of clear liquid out of it. It was good stuff. Zastis plum wine from the moons of Cailo. On this planet, considering the lack of legal spirits, she would have been able to get a good two hundred out of the vial. But she found herself saying, “on the house,” begrudgingly.
Hart grabbed the bottle, undid the cap, and took a small mouthful before moaning in pleasure. “And fresh, too. You certainly know how to treat a male, Dara of Zeru.”
“I might have heard that one time or two,” she replied automatically.
Wait, was she flirting? Because that just wouldn’t do. For one, Dara was no flirt, and secondly, she certainly wasn’t a flirt with a goddamn mage, regardless of what he looked like.
Needing things spelled out for her benefit as well as his, she said, “I didn’t trust you to keep your word, back then, you know. But my sisters are fine and there were only limited casualties, so I guess you weren’t talking out of your ass. Owed you that drink.”
The mage observed her curiously. His lips parted, but whatever he’d been about to say was drowned out by the sound of his name. A female shouted it very loudly, while running down the street as fast as she could.
Dara watched her wordlessly, in awe. She was perfection; slender, but not too tall, like Dara. A classic beauty, with a sweetheart face, a small chin, and high cheekbones. There wasn’t anything edgy about her; she was the female males such as Hart took to their parents.
The female wore a simple red dress that emphasized all of her sensual curves. Many heads turned as the beauty made her way to them. Dara noticed that, just like Hart, her skin had been fitted with an exosuit insert. The cuts and tattoos were at the exact same place. Watching them, Dara wondered if so perfect a couple had ever existed.
“Star,” the mage greeted, as the female intertwined her arm with his. “What’s the matter?”
“I want a sculpture from a shop down the road but it’s too heavy for me and they don’t deliver. Come, I need your muscles.”
She pulled at his arm, but Hart resolutely remained where he stood.
“In a moment. Go ahead, I’ll
join you.”
The female didn’t care for that suggestion. Her eyes drifted to Dara and widened after she got a good look at her. Now she was scrutinizing her, no doubt assessing the potential threat.
Dara sighed. She definitely didn’t want the other female to mistake the situation and think that she had designs on her guy. She’d never coveted a taken male and wouldn’t start now.
“Bye now, nice seeing you again,” Dara said pointedly, eager to be rid of the flamboyant couple.
The golden-haired female tilted her head, repeating, “Again?”
Her blue eyes went to Hart, visibly demanding an explanation. He gave none, ignoring her altogether.
“There’s a gathering in the pledorian gardens tonight after the fest of lights. Meet me there, Dara.”
She lifted one of her brows, noticing that he hadn’t exactly made it sound like a suggestion.
“Sorry, no can do. Enjoy the fest.”
Hart smiled. “Too bad. I had a job for you. Pays very well, minimum risk. It’s not even illegal.”
That did get her attention, but the way the female named Star was glaring at her right now told her that it might be more drama than it was worth, regardless of the pay.
“No thanks. I don’t work for the government.” He lifted a brow, so she explained, “Taxes.”
To her surprise, the female did chuckle; her expression lightened up a little.
“Come, brother. A gentleman should know when he’s getting brushed off. Help me with my sculpture, and I’ll give you pointers about ladies, so you don’t make a mess of it next time.”
On that note, the female turned on her heels, leaving without checking if Hart was following.
Brother.
Dara felt a little silly for having read the situation wrong. Star was a protective sister, not a jealous lover. It didn’t matter either way, but somehow, she found herself feeling a little less stiff and awkward when her eyes returned to Hart.
“It’s not a government contract and I would pay cash. Feel free to commit tax evasion fraud if you must,” he told her, visibly amused.
“Is that what a politician is supposed to say? I thought you guys were going to take Vratis soon—it’ll be your sector soon enough.”
“And when it’s our sector, I’ll worry about willful female outlaws hiding their income from the government. For now, it’s not my problem.”
He well and truly baffled her. There was no making sense of his character, sometimes playful, and yet too intense.
“What’s the job?” she prompted.
The male’s expression changed, becoming darker and more serious.
“Information gathering. There are places I don’t have access to. Given the fact that you sell illegal items, I’m guessing that you might find it easier. I’ll pay five figures.”
He definitely did have her attention now, but a part of her told her to be cautious.
“What sort of information?”
Hart winked. “Tonight, in the gardens, Dara. Some words are better left lingering in darkness.”
He walked away without another clue. For a long time after he’d disappeared, she watched the corner where he’d gone, thinking, plotting.
Five figures would be nice; even after splitting the payout with everyone else, she’d still have a decent cushion to shove in her savings. Maybe she’d be able to afford a little pied-a-terre of her own after a few jobs like that.
Still, a few familiar words came to her. Never trust a mage…
She’d been wrong to listen to the mantra before, but it sounded too good to be true, too tempting. Five figures just for information? And something that wasn’t illegal.
She shook her head. Yeah, right. Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth the hassle.
Ten
Not Quite a Cyborg
Star wouldn’t shut up about the princess. He should have expected it, in all honesty. How long had it been since she’d hinted at him needing a good screw?
Apparently he was grumpy.
“She totally was into you, by the way. But then I turned up and she figured you were taken. Poor baby. I blew it for you.”
“I would very much like to know what makes you think that I was trying to get the woman's attention, sister mine. I wanted a drink. She happened to sell some.”
Star scoffed. “Please,” she drawled, infusing as much irony as she could into the word. “What was the meet me tonight shit, then? You totally were into her. Which is reassuring, by the way. Goddess Light forbid that a twin of mine be asexual. But you know, since Zeru, I’ve wondered if you simply weren't interested in female company. Or male company, for that matter.”
Hart silently congratulated himself for not having told his sister that the merchant they’d encountered had been the princess she’d teased him about for so long. He would never have heard the end of it.
“Star, I'm only going to say it once. I get laid. A lot. I just don't talk to you about it. Because you so happen to be my sister, in case you hadn't noticed.”
Star's big blue eyes widened and she gasped out loud. “You lie!” she practically yelled. “I spend so much time in your head, I'd know if you actually got some action.”
He rolled his eyes. “I shield my mind, Star. It's not like I want you in my head when I have company. You do the same thing, so don't look so surprised.”
Seriously, why did she seem so shocked?
Star shook her head. “Okay, I'll admit that you getting your dick wet is a possibility,” she conceded slowly. “But that doesn't change the fact that you're a cold, indifferent person, Hart. You didn't use to be. I wonder, sometimes, if you care about anyone at all, other than me.”
Now, she was pissing him off. His eyes flashed. “I care about everyone.”
His sister shook her head, speaking slowly. “No, not really. Do you want to save our worlds, make them a better place, protect the innocents? Certainly. Your head cares. That's what makes you a better politician than I will ever be. That's why Kai trusts you so much. He'll make you his first advisor, you know.”
Hart didn't protest, knowing that there was a very good chance that Kai would elevate him if—when—they conquered Vratis.
Their leader liked and valued Star's opinion, if only because Kai needed to hear differing point of views when a situation occurred. Star always had the flip of the coin at the ready. But Kai trusted him almost implicitly. He'd let him make major decisions on his own. Perhaps because his sister was too quick to anger, too impulsive, while he was just what Star had accused him of being. Cold. Calculated. Something Kai recognized, no doubt.
“Perhaps. What does it have to do with anything?”
“The problem is that you don't care for anyone on a personal level, Hart. Your heart doesn't get involved. I love my job, but you live public service. I wonder how long you can go on that way, without anyone to care about. You're not a robot, brother.”
He didn't attempt a reply, because damn if his sister's words didn't sound true now he'd taken a minute to think about it. Who did he care about? Star, of course. His parents. Kai, perhaps.
Nura, definitely. Somehow, he didn't think that naming a wolf pup would count in his favor.
“Now, if—let's say—a dark-haired beauty was to catch your eye in the street, I think you should throw her on your shoulder and have your way with her.”
“Is that how it works?” he laughed, trying to imagine how that would have gone down.
Dara wasn't one to let anyone dominate her. Oh, no, she'd be a struggle, pushing back at every step of the way, even in bed. He might have to bind her wrists to get anywhere with her.
Hart stiffened as he felt his cock twitch at that thought.
He sighed. It was all Star's fault for putting that kind of idea in his mind, dammit. She was being a pain in his backside, babbling about her nonstop, because, according to Star, Hart had looked at her like Dara had been made of laylandish candy. Quote, unquote. And perhaps his sister had a point, because the f
emale certainly was delectable.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll stay it again: butt out of this,” he repeated. “It's not what you think.”
A lie, obviously. It was exactly what she thought: Hart was very much interested in his beautiful, headstrong, fierce princess, but he knew better than to let his twin realize that. Hell, he knew better than to let Dara know that he wished to peel every piece of fabric off her delicate limbs with his teeth. He didn’t know her well—at all, in fact—but he was sure of one thing: she would run, screaming, if she suspected that almost every day, for three freaking years, he’d thought of her, or dreamt of her.
This time, he wouldn’t let her disappear.
The job was, of course, complete and utter bullshit on his part. He had half a day to come up with something; anything would do. Hell, he had a dozen ideas in mind just thinking of it. Their side needed eyes and ears at every corner of the galaxy. An idea flashed in his mind: if she hung out with illegal traders, she was well placed to hear about his personal obsession, the Matlarian guild, but he dismissed it immediately. Too dangerous. Still, there were other matters he had interest in.
His sister kept on babbling as they walked.
“Alright, if I'm wrong and you truly don't care for her, you're definitely gay. Shall I introduce you to my male friends?”
Hart was rapidly developing a headache and recalling why he limited his discussions with Star to a minimum when he could.
At least, it wasn't his mother drilling him.
Suddenly, a terrifying notion entered his mind.
Shit. Star wouldn't have betrayed him, would she?
“Okay, how about this: you get to bug me as much as you want to until the end of time, but you don't, under any circumstances, speak about a female in association with me in front of mother. Deal?”
Star grimaced guiltily. “Well, that's going to be hard. I might have already sent her a quick recording. Just a quick one. Said you asked a girl out for a moonlight date and all.” He stared at his sister in horror. “Don't look at me like that, you know she worries even more than I do.”
