Assassin's Hunger (20 page)

Kala shook her head. “If you leave enough credit, he won’t care. About nothing.” She didn’t elaborate who
he
was, but Eril heard the acrid honesty in her voice.

The selection was terrible, but between Kala’s knowledge of the inventory and Shaxi’s on-the-fly reassessment of what might be reengineered, they packed the runabout in less than two hours. Still, the double suns—invisible behind the seething dust clouds—were on their downward swing by the time Eril was able to look over the load and calculate a price.

He looked over Kala too. “How much are you worth to your master?”

She lifted her chin with a hard look of her own. “Not enough to take me with him out of the storm.”

He keyed his tablet and set up the blind dropbox. “Message this link to him. But not until you think he might be expecting to hear from you.”

Kala stared at the amount he’d assigned. “Does it bother you to be able to calculate my value to the decimal?”

“I rounded up,” he told her flatly. “There’s room in the runabout for you or one more backup generator. Which is going in?”

She turned back to the hangar but not to give it a farewell look. She whistled sharply and a small kitter rushed out from the shadows and climbed the hem of her sand-robe into one of its large pockets. Only its triangular orange ears were visible.

He raised one eyebrow. “I didn’t know kitters responded to commands.”

“We don’t,” Kala said.

Shaxi climbed down from the roof of the runabout where she’d been checking the load. “Is that everything?” She turned her black gaze on Kala. “No personal belongings?”

“Nothing.” Kala’s tone was curt. “I want nothing from here.”

Eril mentally compared the prickly little sand rat to the elegant l’auraly twins and restrained a sigh. He wondered if the captain would even let them back on the sheership. Hells, he wondered if he wanted to go back.

***

It was full dark before they reached the
Asphodel
. Shaxi had pinged the ship as soon as they were within range, but she’d typed out the message so he wasn’t privy to how she’d explained their new passenger. Still, the ship’s lights were on and the hatch was down when they trundled back through the canyon, so the captain had apparently been amenable.

Or maybe he just wanted to get the
Asphodel
off-world, never mind the price.

Sometimes the price of chances felt too high.

Eril worked in silence to unload the runabout, strangely grateful for the brute labor in his role as simple supply clerk. From the conversation flowing around him, he gathered Fariz had already started work on the damaged thruster, and Shaxi and Kala immediately had suggestions based on their replacement parts. The trio dashed off with several anti-grav carts piled with pieces, but he just kept working.

It took him a few minutes to realize he wasn’t alone.

The captain was leaning against the hatch hydraulics, arms folded over his broad chest. “You keep bringing me strays, auxo.”

Eril straightened, rubbing his shoulder like an overworked supply clerk might. “Sorry, Captain. We shouldn’t have offered Kala a way out when we couldn’t clear it with you first. Even though it seemed like the best way of getting the parts we needed.”

After a moment, the captain said, “I do want off this planet. Khamaseen has been more exciting than I like for what was supposed to be a routine delivery.”

Eril knew the
Asphodel
maintained its courier license mostly as a cover story and an excuse to roam farther afield than most light cruisers would go. Running cargo and hiring a supply clerk like himself was just part of the illusion.

“At least these strays don’t eat much,” he offered.

The captain shrugged. “You’re the one who has to feed them anyway. And I appreciate strays. They’re resourceful. And kitters aside, strays tend to be thankful. And loyal.”

The pause before that last part made Eril’s hackles prickle. Was the captain testing him? Corso Deynah was an unenhanced human, but sometimes when he stood under certain kinds of light, there was a hint of qva’avaq shimmer to his skin, as if close proximity to his empathic l’auralya had rubbed off on him. Eril couldn’t risk the captain getting suspicious of him.

He turned back to the runabout and popped off the panels to see the repairs he and Shaxi had made to the battery cabling. For a patch job, it was damn fine work. He didn’t see a reason to tear it apart for another rebuild, although he should finish banging out the dents…

No, what was he thinking? It wasn’t as if he’d ever be using the runabout again. He wasn’t a real auxo with a future on this ship.

Despite himself, he found a spanner in his hand and he took a violent swing at the buckled portion of the panel. The blow echoed up the length of his arm as if trying to knock some sense into him, and the hollow gong of plysteel sounded like merciless laughter.

“You’ve done good work for us,” the captain said, raising his voice from the other side of the runabout.

Eril managed not to flinch at Deynah’s echo of his thoughts. Empathy wasn’t contagious, he reminded himself.

If it were, maybe he wouldn’t be what he was. He gave the captain a short nod. “Thank you, sir.”

“Shaxi’s decryption algorithms netted us a name.”

That stopped Eril. His muscles tightened, and anticipation flooded him with a taste like mineral-laden water, cool and sharp. “You know who attacked the
Asphodel
?” If they had the identification of their enemy, he would have a victim that deserved his death-dealing.

But the captain shook his head. “You know it’s never that easy. But the authorization codes on the bad data packet and the tracker we recovered were the same: It translates as Moirai.”

Eril longed to escape the captain’s view and consult the underwriters’ comm. “Does that tag to any known organizations?”

One side of Deynah’s mouth curled up without humor. “It does. To the three Fates of Old Earth mythology who spun, measured, and cut the thread of each man’s life. Apparently someone in the sheerways besides me reads the ancients.”

“Moirai.” Eril shifted his sweaty grip on the spanner. If only he had a more deserving target than the runabout. Say, the sly smile of the entity threatening the sheerways that named itself for godling tyrants who commanded the weavings of the worlds.

“I don’t expect to unravel that mystery tonight,” Deynah said. “Meanwhile, we’ll just keep flying. Speaking of which, you’ve managed to arrange a fair share of good-paying jobs ever since you joined on.”

Half those had been milk runs arranged through the underwriters’ contacts to keep the
Asphodel
on their radar. But they
had
paid well.

Eril took another swing at the dent without looking at the captain. “I’m just thankful you gave me a chance.”

Deynah snorted. “Did that comment about strays sting? Wasn’t aimed at you. Particularly. I was thinking more of our Hermitaj enigma. She told Benedetta she plans to make her way back to Rampakh after repairs are finished.”

Eril’s third swing went astray and the panel spun out from under the spanner, cracking against his shins.

He swore and jumped sideways then gave the captain a glare where he was leaning against the open door near the compartment that held the remains of Shaxi’s torn shorts. “She said she’s staying? Here?”

Deynah lifted both eyebrows. “I would’ve thought she’d mention it to you.”

“Why would she do that?” Eril’s fist clenched on the spanner.

“Since you two were out for a while alone, you might have struck up a conversation.”

He’d done everything in his power to stop her from talking too much, since he’d had other interests in her. “I meant, why would she say she was staying?”

Deynah shrugged. “Something about letting the electromagnetic storms blank the last of her programming. Benedetta called it a spiritual awakening. Sounds like suicide to me. I was hoping you might be able to talk her out of it—she’s proving herself damn useful—but if she didn’t mention it to you…” He rolled his shoulders again.

“I’ll…talk to her.”

“Do that.” The captain straightened. “I hate to lose good people.”

If only he knew.

Eril watched the captain stride away then hobbled over to the runabout and retrieved the damning evidence from the door compartment. He had some work to do.

Because he didn’t want to lose her either. He needed her. No, the sheerways needed her.

Chapter 15

The heavy work on the damaged thruster had gone well, but the fine tuning and technical adjustments were beyond Shaxi’s skills so she had stepped back, leaving Fariz and Kala arguing the relative merits of hot and cold engine starts.

She wanted to tell them to ask the engine, but that sounded strange, and she didn’t want to explain why she felt a machine should have a say in how it was revved up.

Probably she should have checked in with her primary duties, which was serving as the twins’ bodyguard, but for the first time in her existence—or her remembered existence anyway—she wasn’t entirely sure she was up to the task. Any task, actually.

At a loss, she retreated to her bunk.

Her Hermitaj uniform was stained with battery acid and gritty with sand. And it still smelled like… Her mind skittered away from the thought, and she stripped off the layers while holding her breath.

She set the cleaning sonics, but as soon as she started the cycle, she wished she’d let her gear sit dirty a while longer while she bathed herself first.

Then she remembered the other shower.

She wrapped herself in a sheet from the bed, peeked down the hallway, and dashed for the full water shower.

As she stepped into the small room, she felt as if she’d stepped onto another planet. The twins had scoffed at the luxury, but Shaxi stared in wonder at the tiny nook of sensual pleasure tucked away in this corner of the sleek, dangerous ship. Rounded pebbles massaged the soles of her bare feet as she padded under an arch of dangling greenery speckled with scarlet flowers that licked long stamens toward her. She touched one of the flowers gently and the petal bruised, releasing a complex scent both sweet and mysterious. A bench—long enough to stretch out upon—was angled in one corner, so she folded the sheet on it before continuing toward the sound of falling water.

A warm mist filled the other side of the arch, dripping from the leaves. As she approached, the fall of water thickened, welcoming her. She stepped into the flow, and instantly the water warmed to her, as if it sensed what her skin and raw nerves wanted.

She sighed and let her head droop so the water could pour over her without her drowning.

Although considering she was about to walk back out into the desert to face the shriving, maybe drowning wasn’t such a bad idea.

“You can’t leave.”

She jerked her head up with a gasp, inhaling the dark, delicate fragrance of the flowers and a deeper lungful of the very scent she was trying to wash away.

And found herself trapped in Eril’s arms.

He’d come out of nowhere like some wishful dream she’d conjured. And her wayward mind had conjured him already naked. How wicked. Droplets of water beaded over the fern tattoo on his shoulder, glistening like titaniamonds but more lush and lickable.

She strained away from him. This time she didn’t have the excuse of being stuck in a canyon with a storm raging overhead. “Didn’t the shower light say already occupied?”

“Auxo has override. What if I needed to bring you more soap? Or a dose of cold, hard reality.”

She scowled at him. “I don’t need either one.”

“Right. Because you just slough off anything that touches you. Like you’re made of plysteel yourself.”

His jaw was clenched, but not as hard as the rest of him. He was angry and aroused all over. She was tempted to finally challenge him, to see how strong and dangerous he was when he wasn’t pretending to be something he wasn’t. But the floor was wet and slippery, and the flowers were so delicate. Something would get broken.

She’d been built to break things, but for once, she’d resist that urge.

In favor of another urge entirely.

Since he already had his arms around her, it was easy enough to match his hold. She threaded her arms low behind his back and clenched her hands on his bare ass. His hips jerked against hers in surprise, and she caught his jutting erection between her thighs.

She looked up at him between her water-spiked lashes.

His eyes were wide and gleaming silver in the green light of the little jungle. “You can’t stay in Rampakh,” he said roughly. “There’s nothing there.”

“That’s fine because I don’t want anything there. I’m waiting for the shriving.”

“That’s insane.”

“I’ll be insane, just like the others, if I don’t do this.”

“I won’t let you.”

“You don’t command me. No one does. Not anymore.”

“Shaxi—”

She covered his mouth with hers and stopped his breath with a searing kiss.