by Susan Hayes
“I’ll give you as much time as I can, mahaya.” Since she’d already been with Tra’var, he knew that at least some of her doubts had to be about him. He didn’t blame her. All he could do was hope that in time, she accepted him the way Tra’var had. If not… well. He’d always known that might happen. He’d lived on the outskirts of others’ lives before, even with his own family. It wouldn’t be so bad to do it again.
“Thank you. It means a lot to me that you are willing to do that.” She stopped in the middle of the path and pivoted to look up at him.
“This is not about you, Damos. This is my issue. It’s just…” she trailed off and then sighed. “I’ll spare you the maudlin details. I’ll figure this out. You and Tra’var are good males, sweet and kind. I’d be a fool not to want this.” She rose on her toes, caught hold of his jacket, and managed to gain enough height to graze the point of his chin with a kiss. “It’s not your fault your crazy ancestors sent you a jaded mate with control issues older than you are.”
“You are not that old, and I am not that young. By your measurements I am in the middle of my third decade.”
She groaned. “And I’m in the middle of my fourth. It’s official. I’m a cougar.”
The last word didn’t translate for him. “What is a coo-gar?”
“Extinct animal from Earth. Also, old slang for an older woman who takes younger lovers.”
“Humans are odd. What difference does a decade make?” He frowned as a more confusing thought occurred. “And what does that mean for the cyborgs? Some of them are only a few years old.”
“Huh. I never thought of that. I’ll have to tease Maggie about it when I see her next.”
“You tease your staff?”
“They’re all more like family. And yes, I do. I won’t see as much of her for a while now she’s training with the rangers too. We worked out a schedule that lets her do both, but it means I only see her on our busiest nights. I’m going to need to hire more staff soon or find someone who knows how to fix my damned droids. I was promised they were consistent and capable. The only consistent thing about them is how often they break down.”
“Tra’var might be able to repair them. Or we could toss them in the forge and melt them down to remake them into something useful. Do you need more cutlery?”
Anya tapped her chin with one finger several times and then nodded. “That is a tempting offer. Maybe I’ll threaten them with being turned into spoons as incentive to do better.”
Their conversation halted as a bitter gust of wind whipped by them. It was heavy with the metallic tang that heralded more snow was on its way and made them both huddle a little deeper into their cloaks.
“Brr. I’m extra thankful you two convinced me to borrow a pair of Tra’var’s pants. They might be six sizes too big, but at least they don’t have drafts.”
“You should have taken your own pants off first. That cannot be comfortable.”
Her lips quirked into a brief grin. “If I had taken off my pants while in close quarters with two incredibly sexy males drunk on sex pheromones, we’d still be back at your place and none of us would get any work done today.”
“Sexy?” That wasn’t a word he’d ever heard used to describe him before.
“Very sexy. And a whole host of other words I’m not going to list right now because the more I talk about it, the more I think about it. Since thinking leads to wanting to do it, I’m changing the subject.”
They had reached the bridge while they bantered. The walkways were all clear of snow, so he could keep all his attention on Anya instead of where he was walking. He waited for her to say something more, but she stayed silent. Her mouth hardened and her gaze was focused on something in the distance.
“What is it?”
“Not a what. A who and a why. As in what the fraxx is he doing poking around my bar?”
He looked ahead and knew immediately what the problem was. Yardan, the head of the prince’s security force, was having an animated discussion with another male he recognized as N’tev, one of Anya’s staff.
“Let’s go ask him.” He took a firmer grip on his mahaya’s hand and quickened his pace. Anya broke into a trot, moving fast enough he had to lengthen his stride to keep up.
“Something I can help you with?” Anya asked as soon as they were in earshot.
Both males turned to look at them. Her chef had a relieved expression while the other scowled in annoyance.
Not that it meant much. Damos had never seen the prince’s spymaster look any other way. He’d probably renounced his personality at the same time he gave up his last name and a chance at a normal life.
“There’s a problem,” Yardan said, his gruff voice a perfect match for his stormy demeanor.
“Of course there is. You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t. Now, explain what has your wings in a twist and we’ll proceed from there.” Anya’s tone was perfectly pleasant, but the edge of frost in her words would have made even the prince himself reconsider his approach.
Yardan chose to fly headlong into the storm. “I’m going to need the name of every employee you have. Species. Address. How long they’ve worked for you.”
“You already have that. I know because I filed the paperwork myself. Now, what’s this really about?” she asked.
“Threat assessment,” the spymaster stated flatly.
Anya cocked her head to one side, her lips pursed. “Threat of what? Overindulgence? Random acts of musical entertainment? Spontaneous bot failure? Because if you’re here about that last one, I’d love to know if there’s some outside force making my droids break down.”
Damos had to quell the urge to step in. This was Anya’s business, and she could clearly handle Yardan. He wanted to protect her, but he knew her well enough now to be certain she wouldn’t appreciate his interference.
Yardan’s jaw tightened, a motion that made his short beard seem to bristle. “If you want answers, we need to take this conversation inside.”
For the spymaster, that was almost polite.
“Is that your way of asking me if you may enter my club?” Anya nodded to N’tev, who immediately turned and placed a hand on a palm scanner so discreet Damos hadn’t noticed it until now.
“Yes.” Yardan’s gaze landed on Damos. “And I’d prefer that we discuss this in private.”
Damos shook his head and let his lips curve into a smile that bordered on a snarl. “Where my mahaya goes, I go.”
“Your mahaya?” Yardan’s eyes widened slightly. “Ah. I hadn’t heard. Congratulations.”
Anya’s cheeks heated, but she nodded and then led them all inside.
Damos stayed close to her, his instincts buzzing. Yardan’s world was built on information. If he hadn’t known about Anya’s change in status, something had seriously disrupted the spymaster’s focus. Whatever it was, he doubted it would be good news.
Yardan was officious, arrogant, and more set in his ways than a seized engine. She’d met with him several times when she first arrived. Because of her unique circumstances, he’d insisted on multiple meetings to determine if she was some kind of security threat to the princess and her consorts. It was laughable because the princess was probably the biggest threat to security in the known galaxy. Phaedra was a cyber-jockey and a damned good one. She also had no respect for authority, privacy, or intergalactic law.
With Phaedra’s “retirement” to Haven, corporations all over the systems had breathed a collective sigh of relief and then quietly increased the bounties on her friend’s fuchsia-haired head.
Anya knew how to handle men like him, though. Be firm, don’t back down, and be annoyingly open and honest. It made the paranoid ones crazy.
Once they were inside, N’tev went back into the kitchen while the three of them shed their outerwear and then sat at one of the tavern’s tables. The air was already thick with the scent of the spiced stew that was today’s special, and despite the fact she’d only eaten a little while ago, her mouth wa
tered at the smell.
Yardan seemed to appreciate it too, his expression softening for a moment as he breathed in deeply. “Is that tarugan?” he asked.
“It is. Would you like some? It should be just about ready to serve.”
And just like that, Yardan’s body language changed. His shoulders relaxed and he sat deeper in his chair, one hand rubbing at the close-cropped beard on his chin. “If it wouldn’t be inconvenient? It reminds me of another time.”
Anya touched the digital menu and input the order, which included three hot chocolates. If food would smooth away some of Yardan’s thorns, she’d make sure the male had a steady supply of it.
The droids behind the bar started on the drinks. N’tev would send out the stew with a bot once it was ready. They were alone.
It was time to talk.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Some of your recent customers have fallen ill. I’m concerned.”
“Are you accusing me of giving my guests food poisoning? That isn’t possible.” She pressed her hands down on the table and leaned forward. “That kitchen is sterilized every night. The food is fresh and certified.”
“It isn’t food poisoning.”
The way he stressed the word food sent a chill running through her, like someone had poured a cup of ice water down her back.
“Step carefully, Yardan,” Damos said, his voice low and full of threat.
“Yes. Because if you’re implying that I poison my customers on purpose, you really shouldn’t have ordered the tarugan. Who knows what might be in it?”
It wasn’t the smartest thing she could say, but she was pissed. Was this male actually implying she’d poison someone on purpose?
“You, no. If I thought that, we’d be having a very different conversation in a much less comfortable location.” Yardan gestured around. “But the fact remains that several of your customers are now afflicted with some sort of ailment. I need to know how that happened.”
“It’s nothing to do with me or my tavern. Killing off your customers is a terrible business model.” She paused and forced herself to drop the verbal attacks in favor of trying to get useful information. “I don’t understand how that’s even possible. All my customers have nanotech. Hell, the whole damned colony has it except for me and a handful of human colonists who aren’t even allowed on this side of the river yet. I thought nanotech was supposed to protect you all from ever getting sick?”
With the impeccable timing that only automated devices could manage, their drinks arrived before Yardan could explain.
Anya took the three drinks off the droid’s tray and set them in the middle of the table. “I’m assuming you’d like to choose your own glass?” she asked Yardan.
He shook his head as he pulled out a palm-sized device and ran it over the mugs.
She stared in shock for several seconds. When she next spoke, she had to fight to keep her tone steady. “Did you just scan those fraxxing drinks for poison right in front of me?”
If it had been a cold drink, she might have tossed the contents on him, but the last thing she needed was to get in trouble for assaulting the prince’s advisor with a scalding fluid. Her life was complicated enough already.
“No. I scanned them for anything out of the ordinary. Nanites, biologicals and the like, not toxins.” Yardan took one of the mugs and raised it to his lips, taking a careful swallow of the heated contents. He then set it down with a contented sigh and met her gaze across the table as if he hadn’t just insulted her and her bar. “Now that is delicious. Better than anything the food processor I have can make.”
Damos grumbled under his breath and took one of the drinks for himself before setting the last one down in front of her. “Now that you’ve made your point, Yardan, will you explain exactly what the qarf is going on?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here asking questions.”
Anya wrapped her fingers around her mug but didn’t take a drink. “You haven’t asked questions, Yardan. You’ve made vaguely accusing statements and watched my reactions.”
Damos managed to muffle his chuckle of amusement in his hot chocolate. It was nice to have him here, quietly supporting her. She could get used to that.
Yardan merely shrugged before saying, “I needed to be sure.”
“And are you?” she pressed. She wanted this part over and done with. Head games were tiresome. If something was going on in the colony, she wanted to know what it was and how she could help.
“What I am is worried. Vardarian tech should prevent any of us from getting ill, yet there are multiple cases right now. That has never happened before. Only two things have changed for us. We came to a new planet, and we share that space with a new species. Yours.”
“And you think one of us did this? It shouldn’t be a long investigation, then. Only a handful of humans are on the planet, and of them, only three live in the main colony. So it’s either me, Maggie, or the princess.”
“It is not the princess.” His tone was sharp enough she could have carved a roast with it.
“Nor is it me. It isn’t Maggie, either. She’d die protecting this place and the beings in it.”
He inclined his head slightly. “I happen to agree with you about Maggie. Her circumstances are unique, and her companion is still recovering after her capture.”
She’d forgotten about Jade. She’d only been rescued a few days ago. Maggie had mentioned that the woman’s injuries were healing quickly, but it would take longer for her to recover from the trauma she’d endured.
“So you’re here because you’re basically out of suspects and you thought you’d see what you could shake loose by coming here?”
Yardan’s lips twitched. She couldn’t tell if it was in annoyance or amusement. “I’m here because the only thing they all have in common is that they were in this establishment in the last week.”
“How many?” she asked.
“Four so far.”
Damos asked the next question. “How sick are they? What’s wrong?”
“They don’t know. Our healers are going through the historical records trying to identify the cause, but they don’t need to learn about pathogens to practice medicine because the entire population is supposed to be immune to them all.”
That revelation made Anya sit back in her chair. “They don’t learn about diseases? At all? Then why isn’t there a human doctor on the planet? Not all of us have nanotech. If one of us gets sick, what happens?” She barely paused before answering her own question. “If we get sick, we’re fraxxed. Tell your healers to contact human doctors. They can help with this. I swear I’m going to kick Phae’s ass the next time I see her. That’s a hell of an oversight.”
The stew arrived, and Yardan dug into it with obvious enjoyment. She noted he didn’t bother scanning it before he tucked in. As she suspected, he’d been trying to push her buttons to see what would happen. And if he was coming to her after already clearing her as a security risk, he was grasping at straws. As annoying as the male was, she felt a little sorry for him. He had a monumental task ahead of him, and it would get worse if the illness spread.
“What’s being done? What can we do?” she asked once he’d had a moment to eat.
“All ships on the surface are grounded and no one else will be granted permission to land for now. We need to keep whatever this is contained. There aren’t any cases on the orbital platform and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Anya held her tongue. If something was spreading through the population, it was only a matter of time before it reached the platform. Until today, shuttles traveled back and forth to the station with goods and passengers several times a day. How did this advanced race know so little about how viruses and pathogens worked?
It was a rhetorical question. The answer was obvious. They’d grown complacent and reliant on their technology.
She and Damos continued to ask questions while Yardan ate. His answers were vague and elusive, but sh
e couldn’t tell if he was hiding the truth or if he really didn’t know. The fact he was telling them anything at all made it clear trouble was coming. She was far from the first person he’d turn to in a crisis.
Yardan dropped the spoon into the empty bowl and stood almost at the same moment. “I have taken up enough of your time. You’ll be opening soon. I don’t need to tell you not to share what you know with anyone else. The results would be unfortunate. For everyone.”
She caught the implied threat and ignored it. If he really had concerns about her, he wouldn’t have told her a damned thing. “Of course. Panic and gossip won’t help anyone. I will keep my eyes and ears open. If I hear anything of interest, I assume you’d like to know about it?”
He nodded. “I would.” He rapped his knuckles on the table once and then stepped back. “Thank you for the meal. And for your discretion.”
“Your trust is an honor,” she replied in Vardarian.
The older man’s eyes widened in surprise and something that might have been approval. He nodded to her and then turned to Damos and held out his arm to him.
Touching wrists was a common gesture in their culture, usually done scar to scar. She noticed with curiosity that Yardan had no bonding scar on the back of his wrist. That meant he had no anrik, which was almost unheard of. She’d have to ask Damos about that later.
They walked Yardan out and secured the door behind him. Only then did Anya let herself relax. This had been a relatively pleasant interaction, but he was not an easy male to deal with at the best of times. Today she wasn’t at her best. She was inflamed by the sharhal and distracted by pheromones, Damos’ well-muscled body, and trying to come to terms with her new reality. Not necessarily in that order.
Damos drew her into his arms and kissed the crown of her hair. “You are remarkable. I have never seen that male so deftly handled. If I ever find myself downwind of his ire, I will ask you to intervene.”
