by Alison Aimes
Plus, the investigators he’d hired to help find the real thief and murderer were hard at work.
Zhang and Pellington were continuing to offer their support and bringing other élithe on board, too.
In short, things were looking up.
He’d never felt more like slamming his fist into a wall.
The bleeking cost even harder to pay than he’d thought it would be. His theater box stifling after a single heartbeat. The look in Aurora’s eyes when she’d spotted him a laser blast to the chest. A thousand times as bad as the Martian heat clawing at him, his primal instinct roaring to claim what was his—and fix whatever was making his female sad.
Except the male in him knew enough to know he was the problem.
She might not want him or the mating heat, but the ties between them told him clearly that it still held her in its grip. And while putting someone off was one thing, jumping straight into something else was a lot harder to explain and forgive.
He’d hurt her and he hated that.
She hadn’t looked his way once after that first glance.
“Volkan, a moment of your time.” His stepmother stepped into the hall, a tall, stick-thin female still dressed to the height of fashion in a low-cut purple gown weighed down by sparkling gems. Thin lines that even Outer World technology could not erase spread outward from her eyes and mouth, but the rest of her was remarkably the same. Even her dark hair was still streaked with gold and coiled high on her head, and while the faces of the four scowling guards flanking her had changed, their deadly intent was the same.
DaKar, however, was very different than the vulnerable boy he’d once been.
“I see you heard I have the letters.” He knew exactly what had brought her out of the woodwork. Until now she’d avoided him like the Cornic plague, but thanks to the revelations in Miss Stanthorpe’s papers that wasn’t possible anymore.
“I should have killed you long ago.”
“We all have our regrets.”
“Do you really think I will let you smear my reputation and destroy Peller’s chance to claim his rightful place as heir?” Her voice rattled with venom.
“Your handwriting is very easy to read.” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Thank you for that.”
“They’re fake.”
He didn’t even bother addressing her desperate lie. “I’ve made it clear I will keep the revelations private as long as Peller withdraws his challenge.”
“You smug half-breed bastard. That will never happen.”
“Actually, the official bastard title appears to go to your son. Thanks to letters written in your own hand, I now know he was the product of a liaison with one of the servants. An accident you passed off as my father’s child.” He shook his head in false sympathy. “I wonder if father suspected all along and that’s why he never jumped on board with your plan to shove me out. At least I’m his real blood. I know, though, that will put a big crimp in your legal efforts.”
The understatement of the century. Once her handwritten letters were proven legitimate, Peller’s suit would be finished. As would any question about who was the rightful heir to the title, Corporation shares, and Starlight land.
His stepmother’s eyes narrowed to slits. “If you continue to spread lies about me and my floater driver, I will not only ruin you, I will destroy you completely.”
Satisfaction shot through him. “I never actually said Peller’s father was a floater driver.”
She started, and then snarled. “If you think I will let you take away what is mine, you are even more twisted than I realized.”
“I’ve experienced your methods and know well what an immoral bitch like you is capable of. Actually, linking me to the rash of thefts and murders was a stroke of genius, but it won’t work in the end. Not once the real culprits are unmasked.”
Her lips tilted up in a parody of a smile. “How delicious. You think Peller and I are behind those letters. Perhaps behind the mob attack as well?”
“Are you suggesting you’re not?”
“I don’t think I care to tell you.” She gestured for her guards to fall into line. “This is far from over.”
“Madam, it was over between you and me a long time ago.”
He’d carried the wounds of his childhood for so long only to realize now how pathetic his stepmother truly was. Like so much under the dome, he was seeing things with new eyes.
The hate glittering in his stepmother’s stare, however, indicated she had not changed her thinking at all. “You may think you’ve won, but I wouldn’t declare victory yet, DaKar. Yes, you’ve secured the support of some of the smaller shareholders, but Peller will have the backing of the soon-to-be High Chancellor himself. When he decides to put his weight behind my son, there is not a judge on the planet that will decide in your favor, false papers allegedly written in my own hand or not.”
“Executive Whetherton?” The hair at the back of DaKar’s nape prickled. He didn’t like where this was going. “I wouldn’t count on him to save you. He strikes me as the kind of male who only backs himself.”
“True, unless you’re related.” She paused, clearly relishing what she was about to impart. “He’s very focused on familial loyalty—and that precious stepdaughter of his.”
DaKar stood straighter. “What do you mean?”
His stepmother’s thin lips twisted upward in the mockery of a smile. “Oh, you hadn’t heard? Whetherton has agreed to consider Peller’s offer of a breeding contract with Lady Aurora.”
“That’s not happening.”
His stepmother misunderstood his objection. “It’s practically all but done, actually. She might be a cold bitch, but she is a great beauty from a respectable line who will give my son many offspring of his own. While you have been busy off world doing Goddess knows what, I have been busy collecting favors. I have enough now to determine who will be voted in as Chancellor.”
“Exactly what Whetherton wants.”
Her crocodile grin grew. “You did me a great favor unpairing Peller from that worthless piece of trash Miss Stanthorpe. Their continued relationship was a sticking point for the High Executive, but with that out of the way I am certain he will agree to Peller’s breeding contract proposal. After all, once the Starlight title is Peller’s, there will be no more powerful élithe match Whetherton’s stepdaughter could make while we, in return for his support, will give him one hundred percent of our loyalty in whatever board policies he makes going forward.”
It was a devil’s bargain. And the poor employees subject to Whetherton and his stepmother’s whims would suffer worst of all. Along with Aurora.
“It’s a win-win for all of us.” His stepmother rattled on, confirming his thoughts. “Us, pure élithe, that is. You won’t be so lucky.”
She turned to go, a flick of her hand drawing her guards along with her.
“Enjoy your pipe dreams,” he called out, enjoying the way she stiffened despite herself. “That’s all they will ever be. I couldn’t protect my people from you when I was young, but that’s no longer the case. Neither the title nor Lady Aurora will ever be Peller’s. I can promise you that.”
23
“Lady Aurora. Come join us.”
The call carried over the cacophony of cheers and snarls from the crush crowded around the track. Most of the spectators had rushed straight from the theater to this next distraction and were still in their formal wear, but that hadn’t stop them from shedding their pretenses of civility. The Tanaka’s betting races were an élithe tradition and there were few who missed the chance to risk large sums of shares to bet on which Outer World creature pumped full of illicit drugs would best the others in speed and strength.
Aurora hated the event, both for the waste of absurd sums that could have been put to better use providing care for the Corporation’s employees and for the cruelty. Too often, the races turned into bloody battles with one terrified, out of its mind creature lunging out of its lane and ripping the oth
er frightened animals apart. It was horrific and barbaric, but her stepfather didn’t miss them—and it was the perfect opportunity for her to steal again.
“Lady Aurora!” The same voice, more persistent this time. “We were just discussing the latest news about Warlord Volkan.”
Aurora cast a quick glance to the side. Just as she’d suspected, the speaker was none other than DaKar’s half brother, Peller. He was standing close to the track with a half dozen of his ridiculous, dandified friends, pretending to be unfazed by his mistress’s defection, a fistful of betting receipts in his hand.
Dread roiled through her. Peller was the last person with whom she wanted to discuss this topic. Still, as a biddable élithe female, she could not ignore his summons altogether. She crossed on leaden legs to where he and his friends stood and did her best to be heard above the screaming crowds. “Good evening, Executives.”
Elbowing another man aside, Peller seized her hand and kissed the air above her glove, his gaze flickering between her and the panting array of creatures kicking up dust as they rounded the track. “Your beauty outshines the sun.”
She retracted her palm, a shudder of revulsion running through her. His glib flattery and leering manners always made her uncomfortable, now more than ever. She opened her mouth to offer her excuses and depart, but Peller was faster.
“I hope you don’t think it too sordid a topic for a respectable female to discuss, but I was just explaining I am utterly indifferent to the so-called scandal that occurred tonight at the theater.” His eyes glittered with a bitterness that belied his words. “If that half-breed wants to scoop up my leavings, he is more than welcome.”
Any empathy she might have harbored for the man vanished. Peller was as spoiled and vulgar as his reputation suggested.
“I do think that too sordid a topic to discuss in any company. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Wait. There is no need to run away over such a silly thing. It is only a savage and a disloyal whore we’re talking about after all.” There was no remorse in his expression, only sullen defiance—and hate.
She wondered if Volkan knew how much of an enemy he had in Peller.
A roar went up among the crowd. The sound of squeals and growls grew louder.
Her discomfort grew. “I must be off.”
“Why?” Reluctantly ripping his attention away from whatever massacre was taking place on the track, Peller’s handsome expression turned sly. “It is so unusual to find you alone. Where is High Executive Whetherton anyhow?”
“He’s nearby.” A whisper of fear coiled up her spine. There was something about Peller that disturbed her, a lethal undercurrent that simmered just beneath his muscled form. It was all too easy to imagine him as the letter writer who’d framed Volkan.
She hated being in the same despicable category as he.
“Good to know.” Peller’s false charm was back in place. “At our last luncheon, he beseeched me to watch over you, and I would feel remiss if I did not fulfill my obligations.”
She recoiled. She hadn’t known Whetherton and Peller were close enough to have lunch, much less share such confidences.
Peller noticed. “You didn’t know of our deepening friendship?” He tapped his fistful of betting receipts against his thigh, his smile never reaching his eyes. “We have a great deal in common. My mother and I support your stepfather’s campaign to become High Chancellor and he, in turn, is doing all he can to encourage our legal case.”
She couldn’t imagine a more unholy alliance. “My stepfather is engaged in a lengthy discussion in the Corporation seating area above the track. I should return to him.”
“Such a dutiful daughter. I will accompany you.”
“Unnecessary. There is no need for you to put yourself out.”
“Concerning myself with someone as beautiful as you is no hardship.” His gaze swept over her. “Is he the one that gave you that exquisite bauble?”
“Yes.” Her hand rose to her neck, wariness shooting through her. His change of subject was as disorienting as it was disquieting. So too was the fact that he was no longer looking back at the track, despite the screams of the crowd and the pounding of hooves and paws. Instead, all his attention was now locked on her.
“His taste is impeccable.” His stare dropped to the bare skin above her neckline. “Though two such magnificent ornaments in one package are almost more than we mere mortals can take.”
Goddess, she hated this choker—and his practiced flirtation. “It is merely a necklace.”
“Merely?” he scoffed. “As a connoisseur of such items, I can tell you that piece is quite costly, and rare. It’s not something you are apt to find in the typical Forbidden Zone stores. You’d have to go to a place specializing in unusual goods to find something like that.”
A warning blared inside.
Her gaze swept down Peller’s form, cataloging his billowing scarf, danashe stickpin, Outer World tailor-made jacket, bejeweled fingers, and shiny exported boots. For the first time, she wondered how he could afford such extravagances. As a second son with a questionable line of credit, he could not afford to acquire his costly attire from the usual venues.
Was it possible he frequented stores like Denard’s to assuage his needs?
Nausea rolled through her. Was it possible there was a greater connection between her and Peller than she had ever imagined?
“Do…do you often venture into the Forbidden Zone in pursuit of items for your collection?”
He flicked at something on his cuff. “I am an avid collector. I root around wherever I can.” His expression turned calculating. “I would be more than happy to take you to some of those places. We could go while your stepfather is away.”
Every nerve surged to high alert. “Where is he going?”
“Oh, did you not know that, either?” He checked his betting receipts, suddenly finding them of terrible interest, drawing out the moment as long as he could. Obviously, he loved his little games. Just like Whetherton. “I am surprised your stepfather hasn’t mentioned it. No doubt he is so busy it slipped his mind.”
“No doubt.” Aurora plastered on a false, cold smile.
He sighed, her indifference ending his fun. “He is off to the Asher’s house party at the edge of the dome for the wheekend. Gentleman only.”
“Really? How odd he forgot to mention it. I am sure it will be extremely productive.”
Her mind reeled. Two lunar rotations without Whetherton. She could scarcely fathom it. Her fingers tingled. This was the chance for which she had been waiting. This was her chance to snatch all she could.
The ground shook as the maddened rush of animals circled around the track once more and for a moment it was impossible to hear anything above the crowd’s shrieking. Unfortunately, her reprieve didn’t last long.
“Will you have to wait until Volkan is convicted before you gain the title…and the breeding contract you’re after?” The question came from a rail-thin male leaning against the railing to Aurora’s left. From the tight lines of envy on his face, it was clear the speaker was intent on irking Peller. It also appeared as if he was making a private joke everyone around them got. Everyone but her.
Her wariness grew.
Peller scowled and answered only part of the other male’s question. “I cannot understand why that madman is still running around free. It is unconscionable.” He rubbed his throat. “A half-breed is one thing, but a thieving, murdering savage is another altogether.” His gaze returned to her. “Our good females must be protected.”
“They found another body by the riverbed just last evening,” said another man, the area at his boots littered with betting receipts that hadn’t gone his way. “You can be certain others will follow until the barbarian is stopped for good.”
“It would be gratifying to watch him run off planet, tail between his legs or, even better, strung up like the animal he is.” Peller’s gloating tone was hard to stomach.
“It should ha
ve happened a long time ago,” said another.
“Yes. He needs to be taught a lesson. The whores learned theirs, but he needs educating as well.” Peller’s voice rang with disturbing vehemence that was all too familiar.
“Enough.” All eyes swiveled to her. She couldn’t help herself. “Those poor women were not at fault for what happened to them. Nor is there any proof Warlord Volkan is the murderer. You would do well to watch your words.”
Peller’s eyes turned flat and cold. “When you are my breeder, you will learn to watch your tongue.”
Shock slammed through her, the roar of the crowd receding as his words became her sole focus. “W-what do you mean?”
The male shared a cocky look with the other males in the circle before deigning to answer. “I have submitted a breeding contract to your stepfather, and he has given me every reason to believe it will be accepted.”
She flinched—and then caught herself. “He has not informed me of this.”
“He will.” Peller stepped closer, trampling over discarded receipts and spilled food, anger glittering in his gaze. He hadn’t missed her lack of enthusiasm. “Once I am head of the Starlight estate, I will be as wealthy and as influential as your stepfather.”
Luckily, she would not be here for any of it.
Unfortunately, Peller misinterpreted her defiant silence as retreat.
His smirk filled with triumph as he crowded into her space. “Exactly. You will soon be mine, and I do not tolerate rebellion. You would do well to think carefully about who you want for your friends—and your enemies.”
Harsh words clawed at her throat. She clamped her mouth shut to keep them at bay. Volkan had already made it very clear he didn’t want or need her interference. Plus, hadn’t she already learned that honesty and rash acts would gain her nothing but greater trouble?
She needed to go. To leave before she did or said something even more foolish.
