In the morning he found his brother at the docking pad ready to board. Roberto looked calm, cool, and collected. Diego tried to do the same. When the transport ship arrived, he took his seat. Just as he buckled in, he saw Anarrae step into the hold wearing her ship uniform, every curve on display. His calm, cool persona slipped as heat spread through his body. Hunger rose up, demanding he take her somewhere private, strip her out of her uniform and make love to her until she screamed and every man on the small vessel knew who she belonged to. Instead, with clenched fists, he ignored the throbbing of his cock and tried to control himself.
She took a seat directly across from him and strapped in, looking nervous. Her gaze darted this way and that—everywhere but out the small porthole next to her head. She licked her lips and closed her eyes.
Diego wanted to go to her, take her hand, and reassure her everything would be all right. Instead, he found himself calling out to her. “You OK?”
Ana opened her eyes and blinked a few times before her gaze focused on him. Fear quivered in her dark brown depths. She swallowed hard. “Fine. I’m fine.”
A fine sheen of sweat formed on her brow and upper lip, glimmering in the soft light of the seating area. She blew out a breath. Not caring what Roberto would do to him later, Diego unbuckled his belt and took a seat next to her. He reached out and grabbed her hand.
“It’s OK. Just hold my hand and focus on me,” he said.
She looked up at him and the fear seemed to melt away. Her shoulders dropped and her body relaxed. She even leaned into him. He gave her a small smile.
“Thank you,” she said.
He shrugged. “You were scared. I was just trying to help.”
* * *
Anarrae looked up at the mystery man and felt a pull to him. Despite him having blond hair and blue eyes, it felt as though she were sitting next to her Dodger. Calm came over her the second she took his hand. It felt warm, dry, and solid with a bit of roughness. The contact soothed her. Normally she’d be knocked out by now by some pills. It was too late for that.
The ship began to shake violently as it took off. Ana loathed the rocky takeoffs of small transport. Any minute now she expected the nuts and bolts of the ship to shake out of place and just fall away.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on calming thoughts like kittens, the taste of Dolmarian chocolate, and the feel of Dodger’s lips against hers. That last thought sent a jolt of heat through her.
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry,” the man next to her whispered. His breath brushed her ear in a warm, moist breeze that sent shivers down her spine. Her pussy tingled with awareness. Arousal awoke inside her and she tried not to squirm in her seat. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear.
“Focus on me and it will be all right,” he whispered.
The ride began to smooth out and she blew out a breath. “Thank you.”
She didn’t want to pull her hand back but had to. He was a stranger and she highly doubted that he enjoyed having her sweaty palm pressed against his.
“Um, my hand? I need it back.”
He just smiled at her and she became lost in his blue eyes. They sparkled with mischief and secrets, just like Dodger’s. She told herself to focus. This wasn’t Dodger. She had to leave him behind. That was over. She tried to pull his hand away only to have him increase his grip.
“Ambassador, I need to speak with you.” A man called from across the aisle.
So he was an ambassador? Her political training from the military kicked in. No touching politicians unless you have to. Ana yanked her hand away from his.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—” she began.
He cut her off. “No worries, love. I’m not offended.”
He gave her a smile that made her think of Dodger, and she had to shake herself. The ambassador unbuckled his seat and went back across the aisle to the man who had called out to him. For a second, she did a double take. He looked like the man from the café that Dodger had been talking to, only he had black hair instead of brown.
Ana groaned silently. She needed a vacation just to recover from the one she just had. As the ship flew to the Hades’ Helmet she felt the ambassador’s eyes on her, staring at her. It made her wonder if something was on her suit or in her hair. By the time they got to the ship, she felt paranoid and twitchy. When they docked, she wanted to find the nearest bathroom and look herself over in a mirror.
“Are you all right?” The ambassador called out.
Ana shook her head. “Fine. Just tired, thank you.”
When the hold opened, Captain Drogan stood just a few feet away from the opening with security flanking him on either side.
A wave of nausea hit Ana. The world swam and darkness edged her vision. She couldn’t help but feel as if she’d been drugged, despite not having been able to eat or drink anything that morning. She undid her belt and bent over, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. It wasn’t working. She felt even worse.
“Don’t worry, tesoro, I’ve got you.” A male voice murmured above her.
“Dodger?” she said but didn’t look up.
“That’s right. I’m here. Always will be,” the voice said.
Ana felt arms holding her and lips against her forehead. She turned her head to look for the captain. Her vision wavered in and out. Before the world became dark, she saw security turn on Drogan and hold him at gunpoint. She tried to call out but had no energy. Blackness slipped over her eyes and unconsciousness took her just as gunfire erupted.
Chapter Seven
Golden clouds surrounded Anarrae. She floated among the stars. Everything felt good—so light and free. Warmth filled her up like a cup. The world quivered around the edges and she felt her body shake but she didn’t respond. Being so high and relaxed felt too good. She didn’t want to go back to that world she had just left. It had been too loud and violent. Shots ricocheted around her head and she winced. Too loud.
“Anarrae, love, don’t leave me,” someone said. “Please, stay with me. Hang on.”
Dodger? She opened her eyes and blinked at the bright lights. Blue eyes gazed at her. Not Dodger. She groaned and closed her eyes, only to be shaken again. A throbbing started in her head and her stomach flipped. She tried to lift her arms and push the person away but whoever it was refused to move, like dead weight. She felt her arms but couldn’t command them to do anything.
Instead of panicking, Ana tried to fall asleep again. The golden clouds surrounded her, and this time she saw stars twinkling against a deep purple sky. Crystal blue rings appeared as she floated higher.
“Anarrae!” Dodger’s voice yelled at her from a distance. She turned her head, trying to spot him, only to see blue eyes staring at her, anger written in the dark sapphire depths. Why was he angry at her? She groaned as her head throbbed. Pain stabbed her brain over and over again.
“Wake up!” More shaking followed that command, and this time Ana thought she really was going to throw up. Her eyes flew open, and she rolled to the side only to fall to the floor. With a groan, she pushed herself up and opened her eyes. The pounding in her head made it difficult to focus. Her vision blurred. She wanted return to her golden cloud world and drift.
“Ambassador, please do not yell at my patients!” Ana looked up to find Doctor Titheniel, the Earth Elven doctor, glaring at someone. The doctor flicked her stick-straight, mink-colored hair over her shoulder. Her lithe figure radiated agitation as she continued to stare at whoever it was.
Ana sat up and saw a stranger sitting by the bed from which she’d fallen. Thick, wavy, blond hair framed an angular face. Dark blue eyes turned to stare at her, pinning her to the floor with their intensity. He seemed so familiar to her, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen him before. The cargo bay? The ambassador!
Ana scrambled up, only to feel light-headed. Her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor once more. Strong arms circled around her waist and hauled her up. Once on steady ground
, she turned to thank the person, but her stomach rebelled. In that moment, a chill descended over her body. Sweat beaded on her brow as she pushed the man away and retched all over the med deck. The world swam before her eyes and she passed out again.
* * *
“Ambassador, we have to go.” Roberto said.
For a moment, Diego was frozen as he watched the medical personnel swarm over Anarrae. He felt helpless as he watched them lift her and place her back on the bed. Her limbs dragged, lifeless, and his heart ached to hold her, to take her up in his arms and confirm she was still alive. Diego needed to hear her heartbeat, feel her breath against his skin. His palms itched to touch her. He wished they were anywhere but here. He felt nauseated, and not because she had thrown up on him, but because she’d been caught in the crossfire. His hands curled into fists.
“Ambassador,” Roberto pressed. “You need to change and we have to go.”
“Keep me apprised of her condition, please,” he called out.
The doctor made a noncommittal motion with her hand while they began to strap Anarrae to the bed. Diego moved forward and opened his mouth to ask why, only to be interrupted.
“Ambassador, please. Move along.” The ambassador’s second assistant, Pio, didn’t bother with decorum. He grabbed Diego’s arm and pulled him toward the exit. Once the med deck doors hissed shut, Diego yanked his hand away and got into Pio’s face, not caring if it was something the ambassador would do or not.
“Never do that again,” Diego said. “Never touch me without my permission, understand? And if I want a reminder of what I’m supposed to be doing or where I’m supposed to be, I’ll consult someone with better manners. Are we clear?”
Pio blanched. “Ambassador, please. Let’s move on to your quarters. They are ready for you.” Roberto slid in between the men and pointed the way. Diego turned and strode down the hallway, anger making him want to reach out and choke the shorter man. Anarrae was clearly not well and the idea of being parted from her again made his heart hurt. But it had to be done. He had a job to do.
Roberto rushed in front of Diego and guided him to the Imperial quarters, the suite of rooms reserved for the VIPs. “You and I need to speak. The rest of you to your quarters,” he said.
The ambassador’s entourage scattered like mice. Diego didn’t bother being subtle. He grabbed Roberto’s hand and dragged him into his rooms. As soon as the doors closed, he let go and began to strip.
“I can’t do this.” He tossed his soiled shirt, shoes, socks, and pants to the ground before heading to the bathroom.
“One, you have to. You promised. Two, for the love of Christ, warn me when you’re going to get naked.”
Diego stepped into the small shower stall and turned the knob, moaning at the feel of real water pelting his skin. “I love this ship.”
“It was outfitted with the latest technology so, yeah, real water. Moving on. Does this have to do with Anarrae? She’ll be fine. You do know that. The medical staff is the best in the fleet.”
“I don’t care. She shouldn’t have been caught in the crossfire, period. She’s innocent.”
“Diego.” Roberto’s sigh could be heard above the spray of water. “You have a role to play. The ambassador is counting on you. Mother is counting on you. You promised to help. You have to forget what happened on Il Doge. That’s over. She is now an officer of the Hades’ Helmet under Captain Drogan Carter. You try and rekindle that and this whole thing goes up in flames.”
Diego pushed thick, wet locks of hair out of his face and reached out, searching for the automated soap system. A panel slid open and a silver nozzle pushed out to squirt warm body wash into his palm. He spread the jell onto his skin. He cleaned himself as he chewed over Roberto’s words inside his head.
“I know. I know you’re right, but I can’t take it. She looked so fucking helpless, Roberto. I’d do anything to take it back.”
“I know, but the ambassador needs you. His life is on the line. He needs us. Besides, what would we say to Mother?”
Diego winced. He didn’t want to think of how disappointed his mother would be. “Fine, but you better keep an eye on me. This long con is going to be more difficult than anything I’ve ever done, and I’ve done a lot of big jobs. This has more than one complication that I can see. We have to assess everything from every angle. It’s bad enough I’m a con artist. We’re outlaws. If I get caught, I’m dead.
“The first major complication is Anarrae. I can’t think straight when I’m around her. Next, Captain Drogan. I don’t like lying to the man. I’ve studied his record. I think he’s trustworthy. I think we should tell him. Third, the Chameleon Cyborg that’s been reported to have infiltrated the crew. We don’t know if that’s accurate or not, so we’ll have to take it as fact. What have you heard from your black-ops sources?”
Diego couldn’t care less about this latest threat. Anger rolled around his body as he remembered Ana’s limp body. He wanted to go to her, be at her side. Was she awake yet? Had she called for him? Diego clenched his hands. He hated this situation even more now.
“I agree with you on points one and two.” Worry tinged Roberto’s tone. “As for point three, they’re very sure that we’re dealing with a wallpaper robot.”
“Wallpaper robot?” Diego had never heard of this type of technology.
“Yeah, that’s what they call them. They’re so good at the mimic they can seamlessly blend into the background, so to speak.” Anger filled Roberto’s voice. “I’ve heard of them killing while looking like tea cups.”
Diego’s head came up. “Fucking hell. That thing could be here? Anarrae.” He struggled to turn the water off and get out of the stall.
“Calm down, she won’t be a target.” Roberto assured him.
Diego shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. They could think that Anarrae is with me—with the ambassador. I’ve been sitting by her side since they took her to the med deck. Fucking hell! Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He managed to shut the water off and step out.
Roberto threw him a towel. “I’ll go lay out some clothes. Instead of overreacting, we get to Captain Drogan. He wants to see you anyway for clarification on the incident in the cargo bay.”
“Fine, whatever. Get it done, and make sure the entourage stays in their rooms.”
Diego dried off and got dressed while Roberto made the arrangements. Much to Diego’s annoyance, Pio insisted on going to the meeting. There was nothing Diego or Roberto could say to make him stay in his rooms.
“It’s my duty to ensure that there is no misconstruing of the ambassador’s words.” Pio had insisted.
Diego bit his tongue to keep from snapping at him. They all went to Captain Drogan’s office, but as soon as they were inside Diego ordered the room cleared, saying only, “I wish to speak to Captain Drogan alone.”
“Ambassador?”
“Captain, I wish to speak to you on a high-security matter most urgent. Please, clear the room with the exception of your head of security.” Diego waited for the captain to shoot him down. Instead, Drogan nodded. His dark blue eyes glimmered with interest, but he said nothing until they were left alone with his head of security, Tigress Crow-Ley.
Diego blew out a breath. “First of all, I’m not the ambassador.”
Drogan said nothing and Diego took that as signal to continue. Tigress Crow-Ley narrowed her hazel eyes at him. Her hands drifted to the handles of FP Steiner Laser Pistols holstered on her outer thighs.
Diego wasn’t deterred. “The ambassador asked me to be his double and pose as him until we get to Veritas 10. I’m using nanotech to pose as him. I won’t tell you my real identity, but I will say this: he trusts me with this job, and I intend to carry it out to the best of my ability. Now, the reason for the attack and your security misfiring—”
“We already know why they turned on the captain,” Tigress hissed. “A virus in their data ports. Somehow, they were infected. With the information you just gave us, we can assume
the assassin managed to hack his way through the firewalls. We’ve changed passwords, changed protocols, and strengthened our firewalls. We’ve also shut off communication. Only the most necessary messages can go through, and even then they’re screened by our top tech ops. May I ask why you’re telling us this? I could throw you in the brig.”
“Because I doubt the assassin is stupid enough to pose as a high level officer. It draws too much attention, and he’d be required to carry out all of that officer’s duties. That would be a distraction he couldn’t afford. Better to impersonate a grunt worker, someone unnoticeable so he could get close.” Diego began to pace, his mind working overtime to piece things together.
“Yes, but if you were to be killed during all this, regardless of who he chose to impersonate, the ambassador would be safe.” Drogan tilted his head to the side. His gaze seared with intensity as though he saw straight through Diego’s disguise. “Your job would be done. You’re disposable. Why would you sign up for this?”
“This mission is a risk, but it was a favor.” Diego didn’t expound on the subject.
“Yes, but if you survive, what do you get?” Tigress asked.
Diego glanced at the security officer and ran a hand through his hair. “I get a clean record and a pass to a new life.”
“How badly are you wanted?” This came from Drogan.
“Do you really want to know?”
“How good are you?” Drogan pressed. There was calculation in his gaze. Diego wasn’t sure what to think.
“At?” Diego asked, knowing what the question was. He wanted things clarified before he answered.
“At the con. I want to know just who I’m dealing with.” Drogan sat back, but the weight in his eyes didn’t leave.
Diego reached up and rubbed the nape of his neck. He debated whether to tell the truth or lie his ass off. He doubted Drogan would trust him if he didn’t spill it all. With a deep breath, he opened his mouth and slipped into the role he’d played most of his life. “I’m one of the best. You want a guy to talk you out of a situation? I’m your man. Want me to sell someone oxygen on the Moon? I can do it. You want me to get you in contact with the lowest of the low? I’ve got the connections. Just don’t ask me how. Ask me how much.”
Carnevale and Subterfuge Page 7
