by Nina Croft
Hezrai’s hands shook as he took the glass. Keeping his gaze fixed on Jon, he sipped the liquid, some of the color seeping back into his skin. He cleared his throat and spoke to Rico. “What is it you want from me?”
Rico perched himself on the edge of the desk. “You had a meeting with Collective member Aiden Ross a while back. We need to know why.”
“She’s lying,” he said, staring at Alex, the old hatred back in his eyes. “Whatever she told you—I never met with Aiden Ross. She’s crazy. Always was unstable, making up stories and lies.”
A growl rumbled from Jon’s throat. He stepped closer, pushed up his sleeve, and held his arm up in front of Hezrai’s face.
“You asked yesterday what I was. Let me show you.”
The hand stretched, reshaped before their eyes, elongating, dark brown fur sprouting, razor-sharp claws breaking through the skin.
“That is so cool,” Skylar said.
It was. Alex had been trying not to think too much about the whole werewolf thing. It just added another layer of complication. Did werewolves have relationships with humans or did they stick to their own kind? She needed to have a nice cozy chat with Rico. Rico seemed to know everything about everything.
Jon reached out almost gently and ran one claw down Hezrai’s cheek. The priest tried to back away, but the chair was pushed up against the desk, locking him in place. Blood beaded up from the cut, he released a small whimper, and his gaze turned to Rico. “Stop him,” he pleaded.
“I’ll try,” Rico said. “But he’s a little unstable, like Alex over there. Perhaps you’d better tell him what he wants to know.”
“I can’t. I didn’t meet with anyone.”
Rico rolled his eyes. “Shit, I’m bored of being good.”
He pushed himself up off the desk and stalked the two steps to the priest. This time, when he smiled, the tips of his white fangs showed. Rico touched one with the tip of his tongue.
Alex wanted to look away. This side of Rico had always terrified her, but her gaze refused to shift away from the tableau. Sister Martha’s hand slid into hers and gripped her fingers tight. She was muttering a prayer under her breath.
Rico yanked the priest to his feet, turned him so he held him clamped against his chest, one arm tight across his throat. Hezrai managed a few guttural chokes and went still. His eyes bulged, staring straight ahead. Rico leaned in close to his ear.
“Talk,” he whispered.
Hezrai whimpered, but the hand wrapped around his throat prevented him from speaking.
“Oh dear, can’t talk. I did warn you.”
Rico sank his fangs into the priest’s throat. Hezrai’s legs kicked but he was held tight in the vampire’s embrace. After a minute, Rico raised his head and spat. He pushed the shaking priest back into his seat, but kept one hand on his shoulder.
“Now talk, or I drain you dry.” He stepped back and rested against the side of the desk.
“Hey,” Jon said. “I was supposed to be the bad one.”
“Yeah, well, you need a bit more practice.”
“Like a thousand years or so?” Skylar suggested. “I guess you’ve had a lot of practice.”
Rico cast her a lazy smile. “I’ve had practice at a lot of things, sweetheart. And aren’t you glad?” He turned back to Hezrai. “Now, can we get this finished?”
Jon stepped forward again. “Okay, priest, why did you meet with Ross?”
Alex could see that Hezrai was broken, his whole body trembling. She leaned forward to listen.
“Ross came to me, said he wanted a meeting. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about over a comm system. We agreed to meet on Trakis Twelve—it’s relatively close and almost abandoned.”
Jon snorted. “Yeah, wasn’t the planet colonized by GMs? And didn’t the Church go in and slaughter them all?”
Hezrai shot a quick glance at Jon’s arm, which had returned to its human form. “We do God’s work,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, right—of course you do. So what did Ross want?”
Hezrai licked his lips. “He wanted absolution.”
“What?” Jon’s tone conveyed total disbelief.
“He wanted to say his confession to a man of God and be given forgiveness for his sins.”
“What sins?”
“He wouldn’t say. Just that they’d discovered something recently—about Meridian. Ross seemed shocked, scared, almost panicking, but he wouldn’t give me any details, only that he wanted a chance of one day gaining entry into Heaven.”
“Bullshit,” Jon said. “The man was immortal.”
“Yeah, he was immortal, yet three months after this, he was dead,” Skylar said.
“But why? Who wanted him dead? There’s got to be more. This isn’t enough to have him killed. Do you know anything about this discovery?”
“Nothing. But Aiden was a member of the inner circle. It’s possible they’re keeping information from the rest of us, but I’ve no idea what.”
Alex pulled free of Sister Martha’s hand and stood up. Instinct told her they were close to understanding, but she still couldn’t see the sense of it. She crossed over to where Hezrai huddled on his seat.
“Did you give him absolution?” she asked.
Hezrai’s gaze shifted to her, and for a second the old hatred shone in his eyes. “Yes.”
And what had Aiden Ross offered in exchange for that absolution? Because there was one thing Alex was certain of, and that was Hezrai never did anything for free. “What did he give you in return?” she asked.
“He offered a possibility of a coalition between the Church and the Collective.”
Yes, Hezrai would like that. Anything that might increase the Church’s power. But she sensed there was more. “What else?” Alex insisted. “What did he offer you?”
His lips tightened.
“Answer her,” Rico said, giving him a shake.
“He promised me the Meridian treatment.”
Alex stared at him dumbfounded. That had not occurred to her, but maybe it should have. Hezrai was getting old, and he must have a few doubts of his own.
Behind her, Jon laughed, but the sound held no amusement. “Trying to put off your own trip to Heaven, priest. Having a few doubts? Or no longer convinced they’ll let a murdering bastard like you in?”
Now it made sense. The Church offered an alternative to immortality. How would it look if their leader took Meridian instead? It would hardly give a good impression. “That’s why you wanted me dead, isn’t it?” Alex asked. “I reckon your congregation would lose a little faith if anyone learned you were getting the treatment.”
“And maybe I just wanted an excuse to finish you off,” Hezrai snarled. “But it was Ross who insisted you die. He didn’t want anyone knowing of our meeting, and he’d seen you watching us. I didn’t believe it was you at that point, not until I got back and found you were missing. You never could mind your own business. Always wanting to change things, make things better.” Alex flinched beneath the wealth of contempt in his voice.
“This guy’s starting to annoy me again,” Rico said. “And I reckon he’s given us all we’re going to get out of him. And that’s fuck-all really. We know why he wanted Alex dead, and we have a connection to the Collective, which we knew anyway, but we still have no clue who wanted Aiden Ross killed or why. That’s the information we need to get the Collective off our backs.” He sighed. “We’ll get back to the ship—see if Janey has had any success breaking those codes.” He glanced across at Alex. “What do you want us to do with your friend here?”
Alex started in shock at the question then shook her head. She didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t want the responsibility of making the decision. But that was cowardice. Sister Martha met her gaze, but as always the sister gave nothing of her feelings away. Still, she wasn’t begging for mercy for Hezrai either.
Alex wouldn’t kill him out of revenge for what he had tried to do to her, but Hezrai was evil. How many had he killed in
the name of the Church? Left alive, how many more would he go on to kill? And if he were gone, perhaps the Church would have a chance to reshape itself and actually become a force for good.
“Kill him,” she said.
Hezrai’s eyes widened momentarily, panic flaring, as though he hadn’t believed she could do this to him. Rico’s fingers tightened on his throat, and his neck snapped with a sharp crack of bone. Alex had thought he would make a meal of it—literally—but it was over so fast.
The body tumbled to the floor, and she stared at it, feeling no remorse but no elation either.
“Do you feel better now?” Jon asked as he came to stand beside her. He appeared genuinely curious, and she shook her head.
“No, I don’t feel better.”
“Good.”
“Okay, we’re out of here,” Rico said, casting a speculative glance at the sister.
“No,” Alex snapped.
He grinned. “Only joking. I take it you’re coming with us?”
Alex realized it hadn’t even occurred to her that she could stay. But with Hezrai dead, she had no reason not to. She could take up her old position, but now without Hezrai to interfere, she could change things, do things her own way.
The old sense of suffocation enveloped her like she was drowning in treacle. Jon stood watching her, arms folded over his chest, brows puckered as if he hadn’t thought of the possibility of her staying either.
“You’d be safe here,” he said, his voice expressionless.
Well, that decided it—she didn’t want to be safe. She crossed the room quickly, stooped, hugged Sister Martha, and kissed her on her soft cheek, breathing in the familiar, sweet scent she had known all her life.
“Good-bye,” she whispered. “You know, with no high priest and no priestess—you’re in charge now.”
A startled expression crossed her face. “That’s true. I must sort out the arrangements for the High Priest’s funeral. And stop the search for the new priestess now that you’re not actually dead and…” She broke off and looked at Alex. “Will you return to us one day?”
Alex flashed a glance at Jon; his face was expressionless, but she knew he was waiting for her answer. So she told the truth for him to hear.
“I don’t know.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jon stared at the bowl of steaming stew in front of him, but despite the gnawing ache in his belly, he couldn’t bring himself to eat.
They were all present in the galley for the evening meal. Well, all except Janey, who was still working on the money transfer codes they’d gotten from Deke. The codes were their only lead now.
And Alex, who had disappeared as soon as they had docked on El Cazador and hadn’t been seen since. He presumed she was hiding out in her cabin, but from whom or what he wasn’t sure. She’d been distant on the way back. But so had he.
Maybe he should take her some food. The thought brought him up short. In pack culture, the offering of food had a deep significance. It symbolized the offering of self, a formalized mating bond. Many wolves paired for life, which was a long time, but always as far as he knew with other wolves, never with humans. He’d never come even close to wanting to share that sort of commitment with any woman, wolf or human. He’d been fond of Sarah, his wife, but theirs had been a relationship based on friendship more than love.
Now, he couldn’t get Alex from his mind. But he was a killer. Sometimes he killed for money and sometimes because he wanted to kill. Either way, he was not a good person, hadn’t been for a long time.
He had no right to go after Alex, even if she did still want him, and he was no longer sure that was the case.
Right from the start, she’d been up front about the fact that she wanted his body, not him, and in the past that was the exact sort of arrangement he liked best. Then she’d told him she might be falling in love with him. And he’d tried to pretend the words meant nothing, but they loitered in his mind, waylaying him when he was unwary. Now he was sure she must have decided she’d been wrong, and what she’d really felt was grateful because he’d saved her from Bastion. But since then, he’d saved her from those mercs, so shouldn’t she be even more grateful?
Perhaps he should take her some food—after all, he doubted she knew anything of wolf mating rituals—and he could suggest she show her gratitude. Heat pooled in his groin, and he shifted trying to ease the tightness in his pants. Maybe that’s what they both needed. A long, hot night of sex to get it out of their system.
But what if she really was falling in love with him?
Oh God, he wasn’t ready for this.
He slammed his spoon down, and everyone stopped talking and looked in his direction.
“What’s up?” Daisy asked.
“Nothing.” He picked up the spoon and forced himself to eat, though he had no clue what he was eating.
The murmur of voices started back up around him. There was a casual camaraderie among the crew, a relaxed feeling of acceptance that jarred on his nerves. Even Rico, who didn’t actually eat, joined them for meals. It reminded him of mealtimes with the pack, when problems were forgotten for a short while.
Occasionally, one of them would glance in his direction and frown. No doubt, he was casting a shadow on their nice, friendly little get-together.
The truth was, he wasn’t one of them. He didn’t fit in here. Hell, he didn’t fit in anywhere.
Christ, he was a maudlin bastard.
He set his spoon down again and pushed his chair back. Rico sat across from him, his face close to Skylar’s, and they were whispering and giggling like two adolescents. Revolting. Rico looked up as Jon got to his feet.
For a moment, he thought Rico would speak. Maybe say something that would lead to a fight, but for once Jon didn’t even feel like a fight. What the hell was wrong with him?
In the end, Rico held his gaze, raised an eyebrow, then turned back to Skylar.
They were probably glad to see the back of him.
He couldn’t believe the thought. Christ, he wasn’t only maudlin; he was pathetic.
He turned to stalk out of the room, almost colliding with Janey in the doorway.
She was buzzing with energy; she must have broken the codes. Maybe this was what he needed. Going after the bastard that had got him into this situation in the first place.
If it wasn’t for that bastard, he’d still be out there, doing the job he was best at.
But he knew that wasn’t true. He’d already decided to get out of the assassination business. For a while, it had suited his mood, but he’d long since grown bored of the killing. Aiden Ross had been his last job.
He’d been going home. The pack lands were gone, but he had enough credits to buy a place big enough to run. Once he’d longed to travel to the stars; now he had a yearning to run through the forests of his homeland. Maybe not forever, but for a while.
He followed Janey back into the room and leaned against the wall, waiting to hear what she’d found. She sat in the chair he’d vacated.
“Well?” Tannis asked. “Did you find out who it leads back to? Do we know who set up the assassination?”
“Not exactly. Gosh, I’m starving. Is there any food left?”
Daisy jumped up and bought her a bowl of stew. Janey took a bite, eating quickly but with impeccable manners.
“Not exactly?” Tannis’s tone was grim.
Janey appeared unfazed. She wiped her mouth and put down her spoon. “I haven’t got a name, but I’ve traced the payment back to the initial transfer. I almost lost it—they were clever, they’d double ended the transaction with a circular coding so it kept leading me back to where I’d come from, and there was a trifunctional reference replication sequence—”
“Okay,” Tannis interrupted, “drop the techie stuff and give me the good bits.”
“I told you—I’ve tracked the coding back to the computer node that made the initial transfer. But I can’t get any more information from the codes. I need to get physical
access to the computer.”
“And that will give you the name?”
“I think so.”
“Think?”
“Ninety-nine percent sure.”
“That’s good enough for me. Looks like we’re going to visit your computer. Where is it?”
For the first time, Janey appeared a little discomforted. “Trakis Five.”
“Brilliant,” Tannis muttered. “Just freaking brilliant. Trakis Five—home to just about all the Collective, not to mention the freaking Corps. We’re fucked.”
…
Alex lay on the bed in her small cabin. Mogg balanced on her stomach, kneading her with sharp claws. Her stomach rumbled, and the cat leaped off her in alarm. Maybe she should go get some food, but she didn’t feel up to company.
She needed some time alone. Everything had changed.
For the first twenty-four years of her existence, she’d lived with her life intricately mapped out for her. Every day meticulously planned. No surprises. And boredom had been a constant companion.
Then she’d spent the last three months wanting to cram as much of life as she could into her time of freedom. While always at the back of her mind was the thought that time was short and freedom was an illusion.
Now, her whole life stretched out before her—filled with limitless possibilities. Well, at least until the Collective caught up with them and blew them up. But she trusted the captain; if anyone could get them out of this, Tannis would.
Alex could go anywhere. Do anything. It was an entirely new feeling, and she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it.
Before, when she’d presumed she was going back, she’d had a lengthy list of things to do. Now that list had dwindled to two items she knew she wanted. To stay on El Cazador and to be with Jon. And not just for sex. While she still didn’t understand her feelings for him, and she wasn’t about to declare undying love or anything, she did know it went way beyond the mere physical. She knew that, because she wanted to make him happy, see him smile, banish the wariness from his expression forever.
