But Striker was standing at the top of the ramp, pointing to Hemlock, Sparks, and Gavrikov, who sat inside, playing a dice game on the deck.
“Yup, they were on their way back when I found them, sir,” Striker said.
Lieutenant Sparks rose to his feet as Lauren and her sister hustled up the ramp, ducking past the men. They slipped into the lab and drew the curtain. The sound of hushed voices—arguing voices?—drifted out, but Tick couldn’t make out the words.
“You saw someone out there, Sparks?” Mandrake asked, waving toward the jungle in the opposite direction of the cave and waterfall.
“I didn’t, sir, but Hemlock did. Gavrikov thought he saw someone in dark clothing too. We split up and searched, but couldn’t find anyone. We did spot a ship in the distance. That’s when I silenced my comm—” Sparks gave Ankari, who had come out to listen, an apologetic nod. “We were trying to sneak in close, see if we could identify it and maybe catch the person outside. Unfortunately, it took off before we found the man. We did catch the name on the side. Wrangler’s Wrath.”
“Wrangler’s Wrath?” Tick asked. “Sounds like a vengeful cattle driver.”
“Maybe it wrangles mercenaries.” Ankari looked toward Mandrake. “Is this the same ship that attacked you?”
“Black ship, Sparks?”
The lieutenant tilted his head. “No, sir. It was sort of a mottled green. Arrow shaped. Small ship, probably only can hold a crew of two or three.”
Mandrake, his jaw set and his eyes cool, looked toward the lab. With the curtain drawn, Lauren and her sister wouldn’t be able to see him, but maybe they would feel his irritation. Not for Lauren, Tick was sure, but for Ms. Keys’ continuing uncommunicative tendencies. Tick suspected she knew exactly who was after her.
“Flipkens,” Mandrake called.
Jamie trotted down the aisle, her blonde braids swinging as she hopped over the dice to stick her head through the hatchway. “Yes, Captain?”
Even though she wore overalls that didn’t reveal much, Gavrikov gave her a wistful look as she passed through. As far as Tick knew, she was still hooked up with Mandrake’s assassin, Zharkov. Wisely, Gavrikov did not let his look linger too long.
“Access the network and look up the Wrangler’s Wrath,” Mandrake said. “See what you can find.”
“Will do.” Even though she was a civilian working for Ankari and Lauren, she gave him a peppy salute before heading back to the console.
“Are you requisitioning my people for research purposes?” Ankari asked. “We may have to charge you for that.”
“My twenty percent of the company doesn’t buy me the occasional use of your personnel?” Mandrake asked.
“All it buys you is a vote at the shareholders’ meeting and a fifth of the profits.”
“That seems stingy.”
“You’ll have to take it up with the majority stakeholder.” Ankari’s eyes crinkled.
“In the bedroom, perhaps?”
Tick ducked his head to walk past them and go inside. Nobody would accuse Mandrake of making gooey moonstruck eyes at Ankari—or at anybody else—but Tick did not want to listen to them lovingly teasing each other. Especially when he had nobody to lovingly tease.
He glanced toward the lab curtain as he passed, but suspected his hopes of finding love in there were as slim as Gavrikov’s hopes of winning Jamie away from her assassin. Tick plopped down in a seat, removed his gear, and pulled out his tablet. Maybe he would read about the hero in the latest series he had downloaded and get some tips about wooing women.
Chapter 9
“You have to tell him,” Lauren urged, still arguing with Hailey as their shuttle took off, rising over the treetops outside. After flying off but failing to crash the enemy ship, Thatcher and Frog had returned to collect the other men and fly in the same direction, heading toward Hailey’s second circled spot on the map.
“It’s none of their business who else is interested in my research.” Hailey sat on the lab counter, her unsanitary backside leaving smudges that Lauren itched to clean off.
“It is if those people are firing at us as you’re doing your research. I’m sure the mercenaries could better protect you if they knew what to expect.”
Hailey hitched a shoulder. “I don’t even know what to expect.”
“Don’t you? You haven’t seemed surprised by anything that’s happened.”
“I had to try to sell myself—sell my project—to a number of people before finding someone who would fund this trip, so the information could be all over the network by now. There are thousands, if not millions, of people who would like to have extrasensory perception, and that telekinesis that Hemlock is showing? Even more impressive. Think of all of the applications in the system where such powers would give a person an edge, if not turn the tide of war. There’s no telling how powerful some individuals could become. Didn’t you say that your Corporal Hemlock has only had one inoculation? And he’s already moving dice with his mind?”
“The subsequent inoculations don’t necessarily improve results,” Lauren said. “They’re just designed to ensure that the digestive tract is thoroughly colonized with the desirable mix of bacteria.” She frowned, realizing her sister had distracted her from the original argument. She opened her mouth to once again implore her to share all she knew with the captain, but Hailey spoke first.
“A desirable mix of bacteria that you’re going to share with me, right? I’m still hoping for that, you know.”
Hope. There was a word that Lauren had heard too much of late. She was aware of Heath sitting in one of the seats out there, hoping that she would be overcome by his sexual allure and leap into his arms. Please. Just because she had found the massage relaxing, and perhaps slightly… stimulating, did not mean she had any interest in intercourse. Or in having her earlobe washed. Men.
Hailey hopped down from the counter and laid a hand on Lauren’s arm. “Let’s work together in this, Lo. You share your bacteria with me, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about my research.”
Lauren bit her tongue to keep from saying that she wasn’t interested in Hailey’s research. The truth was that she could no longer make that statement, not without lying. Now that her specimens were being affected, and now that it seemed there might be more than smoke and mirrors to the human capacity to develop extrasensory perception, it was hard not to be intrigued.
“Perhaps we could run some tests on the subjects together,” Lauren said, thinking that sounded like a compromise. She didn’t trust her sister enough to simply hand her the list of alien intestinal microbiota that she had isolated, but she wasn’t entirely opposed to sharing some notes.
“Yes, we should definitely do that. And you should share your secret recipe with me, so I can in turn share it with the druids, men and women whom I believe will be far more likely to show interesting results than your thuggish mercenaries.”
Lauren frowned at the notion of Heath being thuggish. Overly sexed, perhaps, but he was fairly polite for a man who killed people for a living.
“What makes you think that?” she asked, ignoring her sister’s dogged persistence when it came to the bacteria and also ignoring her own inclination to defend Heath.
“They’re not random Grenavinians that you scraped off the bottom of a petri dish forgotten in the sink for days. I believe that they’ve been tinkering with and enhancing their genes, not just when their world was first founded, but all along. There was a reason they were driven off their planet, and I believe it was more than their tendency to tinker with the tomatoes.”
“You keep saying such flattering things about the mercenaries, and they’re sure to want to continue working for you.” Lauren glanced toward the curtain, well aware that it was not soundproof. They weren’t speaking loudly, but the men sitting in the back might hear them if they were paying attention.
“They’ll continue to work for me as long as they’re paid. They’re mercenaries. That’s what they do.”
r /> Not all mercenaries were honorable in sticking to their contracts, but Lauren did not say that. She hadn’t yet seen Captain Mandrake double-cross an employer.
“Give me some of your bacteria—I know you must have brought some doses along—and that way, I’ll have something to bargain with when we find the druids.” Hailey eyed the drawers under the counters, as if she might root around in them the first chance she could slip into the lab while Lauren was out.
Lauren did have the microflora suppositories along, stored in the locked refrigerator drawer, since Heath and Hemlock were both due for another round in the next two days, and she hadn’t been certain how long this mission would keep them away from the Albatross. She would not verify her sister’s suspicions.
“What exactly are you hoping to gain?” Lauren asked. “Subjects to study? Or… something more?”
“Something more? Wouldn’t the study be enough? Lo, this is the culmination of my life’s work. Final, concrete proof that human beings can evolve to use their brains for more than the crude senses we’re all born with. I’ve been searching for this for over a decade. Do you know that even with all of the genetic tinkering that went on in past centuries that nobody else stumbled across what you’ve discovered with your gut bugs? Do you know what this could mean for the future of humanity? The evolution of our species? And yes, I’d love it if I’m the person to publish some of the foundational work. I won’t lie. Aren’t you excited to get credit for your discoveries? I know you are. You used to publish all the time before you turned this into a business.” Hailey sniffed, as if capitalism were beneath her.
A ludicrous notion from someone who had no problem sleeping her way to funding.
“If you strike a deal with these druids,” Lauren said slowly, feeling that she should give her little sister something, “I’ll consider adding them to my study. If they’re willing to come aboard the ship, and if the captain will allow it. I’m not going to let the strain I’ve created go traipsing around in the system. It’s far too early. I don’t know what side effects—”
“Fine, fine.” Hailey lifted a hand. She smiled, but it didn’t quite hide the exasperation in her eyes. “I have no choice but to work by your rules. I will give them your offer.”
Hailey glanced toward the drawers again, and Lauren pretended not to notice, but she intended to make extra certain that the refrigeration unit was always locked when she wasn’t in the shuttle—and even when she was.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Hailey said, heading for the curtain, “I’m going to check on our progress toward the next search spot now. All of this is moot until we find those druids.”
Yes, it was, especially if Hailey was going to be a snob about using Lauren’s mercenary subjects for her studies. Did she truly think them lesser specimens? Lauren had chosen them because of their physical fitness and overall health. Or maybe Hailey just didn’t want to work with Lauren’s subjects and therefore under Lauren’s supervision. She suspected she still hadn’t received the whole truth from Hailey about what she hoped to accomplish.
As Lauren turned back to the lab, intending to take a closer look at the files she had copied in the cave, a flirtatious giggle drifted through the curtain. She recognized Hailey’s laugh. She must not have spent much time checking on the status of the shuttle’s flight.
Though she told herself to ignore the giggle—who cared who her sister had latched on to?—Lauren found herself stepping across her small lab and peering through the slight gap in the curtain. The dice game was still in progress on the deck in the back, the mercenaries apparently not feeling the need to stay harnessed in their seats now that the storm had abated. Hailey crouched next to Corporal Hemlock, her hand on his shoulder, a smile on her face. He nodded at something she whispered and smiled back.
Lauren started to withdraw—she had no feelings one way or another about Hemlock, though she did note that Hailey had picked one of her test subjects to snuggle up to—but then her sister stood up. She walked past the curtain and sat in the seat next to Heath’s. He had his tablet in his lap, the back of the holodisplay darkened. Lauren couldn’t tell what he was looking at from this angle.
Hailey leaned close to him, her shoulder touching his. Lauren scowled.
“You know you’re turning the pages without using the controls, right?” she murmured to him, Lauren just able to pick up her voice over the soft hum of the engines and the rattling of the dice in Hemlock’s cup.
Heath’s brow furrowed with puzzlement, until realization and concern flashed into his eyes. After a second, he smoothed his features, shrugged, and replied, “I’ve got them set to automatically turn, based on my reading speed.”
“No, you don’t.” Hailey smiled and slid her arm behind his shoulders.
He frowned at this familiarity, but did not push her arm away. Lauren wished he would.
“I’ve been watching you for a while,” Hailey add.
“Oh? What have I done to warrant such scrutiny?”
“You’re a handsome fellow.” She leaned even closer, resting a hand on his thigh.
A nearly overwhelming urge rushed into Lauren’s mind; she wanted nothing more than to stalk across the aisle and shove Hailey’s hand away. What was she doing flirting with these men, anyway? She’d just called them thuggish. The bottom of the petri dish.
“Want to find a corner and while away the rest of the trip together?” Hailey rubbed her hand along Heath’s thigh, her fingers brushing his crotch.
He swallowed, his gaze riveted to her hand. Lauren didn’t usually look at men’s crotches, or have any care as to what was going on with that part of their anatomy, but she didn’t miss the tightening of his trousers over that area.
Lauren’s fingers curled into fists. Damn Hailey for rubbing her hands all over him, and damn him for letting her. If he went back to a corner to have sex with her, she would… She ground her teeth. She didn’t know. Why did she care? She never cared about these things. Just because he’d rubbed her neck didn’t mean she now had some claim on him or interest in who he slept with.
“That’s a flattering offer, Ms. Keys,” Heath said, finally finding his voice, “but I’m enjoying my novel quite a bit here, and you know, I’m curious about our route and if the captain will need my services once we land, so I think I’ll go check in with him real quick.” He spoke quickly, a faintly panicked look in his eyes now, and blurted, “Thanks,” before surging to his feet, leaving Hailey’s roaming hands behind. He almost dropped his tablet in his hurry to rush away from her.
Hailey rolled her eyes, tapped her fingers on the back of the vacated seat, then turned her interest back toward Hemlock.
Lauren let her fingers uncurl, a ridiculously strong feeling of relief washing over her. Even as she acknowledged her ridiculousness, she pushed the curtain aside slightly so she could watch Heath stride up the aisle. For some reason, her gaze latched onto his butt. His trousers weren’t particularly tight—not nearly as restrictive as they had grown across his crotch—but she could make out the shape of it well enough, and she recalled that she had seen it sans clothing before. At the time, she hadn’t spared it a thought, certainly not a sexual thought, but now she imagined cupping it with her hand for some reason. How odd that a massage, even one that had included earlobe washing, would arouse such uncharacteristic thoughts in her.
Before Heath made it to the front of the shuttle, his apparent destination, Striker, who sat behind Ankari and Jamie, stuck his leg out. Heath nearly fell over it.
“What?” he asked, turning an exasperated look on Striker.
Striker curled his index finger, gesturing for Heath to lower his head.
“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it,” Heath said, though he did bend down.
Striker made a fist and rapped his knuckles on Heath’s forehead. “Hello? Is anybody home in there?”
Heath knocked the arm away. “What are you talking about?”
“A pretty woman hit on you. You d
idn’t even have to chase her, or get her drunk. And you ran away?”
“Grow up, Striker.” Heath shoved his leg away and continued past. He flopped down in the seat behind Jamie and slouched low, his head disappearing from Lauren’s view.
She couldn’t tell if he called the captain or not. It didn’t matter. She was just pleased that he hadn’t accepted Hailey’s offer. A part of her wanted to casually stroll up there and sit next to him, but she didn’t know what she would do or say if she did. She certainly wasn’t going to start stroking his thigh. It wasn’t as if she wanted to arouse him or have sex with him. She just… didn’t want him to have sex with her sister. Or anyone else. That wasn’t foolish, was it?
“Of course it is,” Lauren muttered to herself, pulling her head away from the curtain.
She returned to the druid files, determined to put thoughts of Heath, butts, and sex completely out of her mind. What a silly waste of mental energy.
• • • • •
Tick hunkered low in his spot behind the pilot’s seat, pretending to read his book, but mostly wishing the lights had been dimmed for night and that he had a private spot where he could masturbate. He kept trying to think non-sexual thoughts, to ease the erection that had started when Ms. Keys touched him, but he kept thinking about Lauren touching him. He knew she wasn’t interested in doing anything of the sort, and maybe that was what made the thoughts so appealing. The idea of her sauntering up the aisle in her lab coat, her breasts pushing against the thin shirt she wore underneath it, and having her bypass all of the other mercenaries, her eyes only for him. She would sashay over to his seat, press her hands against his shoulders, and straddle him. One of the rare smiles he had teased out of her earlier would return to her lips, along with a sultry, hungry look in her eyes. She would run her tongue along her lower lip as she settled onto his lap, her hot core pressing against his aching erection. He would grab her ass, pulling her hard against him, ignoring everyone else in the shuttle. Let them watch as he tore off her clothes and—
The Tracker's Dilemma: (A Mandrake Company Science Fiction Romance) Page 12