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Quoros: Gizelle’s Mark
Magnus ran a calloused hand over his bristly head and frowned. He'd been comfortably bald for the last decade on Josan, but now he needed to change up his look, with all the fuss and bother that entailed, to avoid certain potentially uncomfortable encounters.
Getting out of the game by setting up a covert-but-technically-legal shop on Josan was one of the best things he'd ever done. Having it taken from him by assassins, even if he wasn't the target, was irritating as hell.
Profitable, safe, and comfortable, Cara Valley had provided everything he needed without all the running and dodging inherent in the life of a working privateer. But now, through no fault of his own, he was forced back into the fray.
Well, not all the way in, perhaps. This job covering Tessa Graham's ass could lead to better, less hazardous things if he rolled the dice just so. Plus, the woman was a looker. Might be a bit of a side benefit there.
He picked up his tankard and took in his surroundings over the rim. Gizelle's Mark was a known safe-haven for privateers and pirates alike. Ancient plank floors with tiny gaps to let the spilled ale run through. Darkened windows to block prying eyes from seeing inside. Comfortably dim lighting as a screen from nosy persons inside.
Plus, they brewed the best ale in the quadrant and the perfectly seasoned menu offered enough variety to suit a range of clientele. It was no wonder the place made Gizelle wealthy enough to keep three households, each with its own resident paramour. Given the woman's charm and reputation, it was even less of a surprise that none of them squawked about the lack of exclusivity.
A bruiser in a black coat and high boots strolled in and took a table in the far corner. Magnus watched without concern as the woman beckoned a waitress. Only just past sundown, and the place was already at capacity.
At a table across the room, a Lacertilian exchanged bets over cards against an Aderinian and a Lesser Daemon. The Lacertilian's tail curled and uncurled irritably, from which Magnus inferred that the lizard-guy was probably losing. He glanced in the bouncer's direction and saw that he'd noted the agitation. Due attention was being paid.
The only law in The Mark was, you don't make trouble. And everyone knew Gizelle enforced the rule with impartial precision. Start something in her place, and Gizelle's people would end it. Often permanently.
"So, Magnus, haven't seen you in years. You doing well?" Gizelle materialized at the table as if by magic. Every strand of brilliant red hair gleamed in elegant harmony; strands of pearls woven through the intricate braids. He took in the still-smooth skin of palest lavender complimented by intense blue eyes, and smiled a greeting.
"You haven't changed a bit, my love. How is that possible?" He gestured to the chair across the table, and she obligingly took a seat.
He'd always appreciated Gizelle's charms, had even enjoyed a night or two in her company. The added edge of knowing that every pearl hid a poison dart, and that the lady's perfectly fitted gown somehow concealed several daggers, hadn't dampened his desire either. Knowing that she'd never give up her other lovers had created a bit of friction, but they'd parted friends before either got too chafed.
"Love?" She breathed a laugh. "It was never love, though the lust was beyond decent. I heard you had a nice setup over Josan way. What brings you here?"
"Besides your enchanting presence?"
She rolled her eyes, and it was his turn to laugh.
"Oh, Cara Valley was a nice setup, no doubt," he said. "Until it wasn't."
"And what led to the 'wasn't'?"
"Same as always. Someone got miffed, called in the regulars, and there went my security deposit. You know how it goes."
She tilted her head to the side with a sympathetic grimace. "I do. I'm sorry you lost your place."
"Yeah, me too. I'm on the mend, though. Meeting my next job here."
"Are you? Well, then, when they arrive, I'll push off. Meantime, why don't we have a drink to old times? On me?"
"With pleasure."
She gestured, and a barmaid hurried over with a tray.
Tessa could feel Rakan's presence behind her as clearly as she felt the rustle and drape of her Andorran leather duster. Though she'd pretended irritation, she appreciated the concern that had prompted his insistence on coming along.
"You don't really know this guy, Tessa. He could be after some kind of bounty. That Atah bitch probably ain't given up, either."
He wasn’t wrong. Atah’s previous attack was almost successful. Tessa didn’t like thinking about how close she came to losing Val and the others to an assassination attempt meant for her.
"The only person with a lethal grudge, along with the money to back it up, is dead. Which means I am no longer a target."
"If that person was Saracen, sure. If not...” Rakan rubbed a paw along his jawline. “It ain’t something we can be sure of. Look, you don’t have eyes in the back of your head. Not a bad idea to have a second gun with you, is all I'm saying." Rakan had crossed his arms and stood his ground until she'd given in.
Now, approaching Gizelle's Mark, she was glad he was with her. He was good company, at least. Especially since she didn't know exactly what she was walking into.
The bar was typical of its type, though cleaner and better outfitted than most. Here the dim lighting and dusty floor looked purposeful rather than neglected. Tonight, the place was full, too. Every table occupied.
It took her a second to realize Magnus was already there. The hair threw her slightly, but it was his companion that nearly stopped her. This wasn't Yolanda, but there were similarities. Did the man have a thing for red-heads or was this a coincidence?
Putting the thought aside, she crossed the room.
The woman sitting with Magnus rose gracefully to her feet. "I enjoyed catching up, old friend. Let me know next time you come into town. I'll arrange proper..." She stopped and raised an eyebrow as Tessa reached the table. "Accommodations...for you."
"I appreciate it, Gizelle. Thanks for the drink and the company." Magnus turned his amused gaze to Tessa as Gizelle drifted away. "Tessa. Thank you for meeting me. Rakan. Good to see you again."
Rakan growled a greeting as Tessa sat down. "I'm gonna go sit at the bar. Call if you need me," he said, and stalked off.
"He's a bit grumpy," Magnus said.
"He thinks you might be after some kind of bounty." Tessa watched his face for a reaction.
Magnus laughed. "He thinks I'm a bounty hunter? That's funny, that is."
"Oh? After Atah's little soirée on the Venture, can you blame him?"
"No, not at all." Sobering, Magnus leaned forward. "In fact, that's why I'm here."
Eyebrows arching high, Tessa kept her hands under the table where she could keep the changes to them hidden. "So, there is a bounty on me? And you're after it?"
"No, no. Well, that's half right."
"Which half?"
"Let's just say there's reason to be concerned, though not about me. Turns out Atah wasn't after the Venture at all, or anyone on it. She was hired specifically to kill you."
"What? By who?" Thinking she already knew the answer to that one, Tessa let her hands revert to normal and signaled the waitress for a drink.
"Phyleda Saracen."
Tessa relaxed slightly, and enjoyed the light buzz of being right about her enemy. "Well, that's a relief. With Saracen dead, that ought to end that." Just like she’d told Rakan. She was going to enjoy the look on his face when she told him.
"Not as much as you might think. Saracen set up a sort of insurance policy with an interstellar bank. Atah is the beneficiary if she fulfills the terms of the contract."
The waitress hustled up and set a mug of frothy ale on the table.
Shock fizzing through her, Tessa didn't even turn her head. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I wish I were. But I'm not. This info comes straight from Queller. He's grateful for what you did for Solara. When he found out about the bounty, he hired me to watch your back."
"I don't need anyone watching my anything. Already got plenty of that on the Venture." Tessa took a swig of her ale and set it back on the table with a look of surprise. "That's... really good."
"Yeah, Gizelle has a way with brewing." He emptied his own drink. "I’ve seen you operate. Under normal circumstances, I'd agree with you about not needing help. But having an assassin on your tail isn't normal."
She turned back to him. "So, you're supposed to be what? My bodyguard?"
"I know, it sounds weird but, as Queller pointed out, no one is unkillable, even you. And if anyone could figure out how, it's Atah Totepe."
"Oh yeah? What’s so special about her?"
"Other than being the single most successful killer-for-hire in the galaxy, you mean? Well, there's the fact that she's never been caught. And people have tried, believe me."
"OK, but I could say the same."
"True, but you aren't an assassin, and you have a nanocyte body, which puts you in a bit of a different category. Apparently Atah is human, or at least humanoid, and she's never gotten so much as a scratch on a mission. Nor has she ever failed to take down her mark and collect her reward."
"Anyone who uses a team could probably have similar stats."
"That's debatable. And she rarely uses a team. I'm thinking she changed her methods for the Venture job because of the number of kills she was after."
Tessa went still, her hand on the tankard. "You said she was only after me."
"You were the primary target. Queller says Saracen was willing to pay extra for each member of the Venture's crew they took out, but only if there was video evidence to back it up. She wanted to see you die, Tessa."
"Saracen blamed me for her son's death. And she was the most vindictive, entitled person I've ever met. So, that makes a weird kind of sense, I guess."
"Point is, Atah is coming for you and anyone who gets in the way is in danger. The fact that she's no longer getting paid for the others won't stop her from killing them."
"That would include you, wouldn't it? Why are you willing to risk your life for mine?"
"I've been a bodyguard before. Pay isn't bad, and the work can be interesting," he said.
She didn't reply but met his gaze steadily, waiting. Meeting her stare, he didn't look away as he continued. "Fine. Mainly? I owe you. You bought me time to get my people out before the Josani security forces arrived. A lot of folks would've lost their freedom if I didn't have advance warning."
"It would've been poor payment for your help if I let you or yours suffer in something that wasn't even your fight. What's the other reason?"
"Other reason?"
"You said 'mainly,' implying there's something else."
He gave her a slow, sexy grin. "Let's just say I'd hate to see a woman as gorgeous as you get dead."
She snorted. "You're going to sign on to risk your life because you think I'm cute?"
He lifted his tankard and gave her a smoldering look over the rim. "Didn't say anything about cute. Cute is for kittens and babies. Neither of which applies to you."
A lick of heat curled in Tessa's abdomen, quickly squashed, but there all the same, leaving her at a momentary loss for words. Finally, she stood and tossed several credits on the table.
"Right. You're in, at least until we can get the situation with Atah sorted. You got a ship here, or will you need a bunk on the Venture?"
Magnus stood when she did. "I stashed the Oracle with a buddy of mine here. Guarantee me a ride back when this is all over?"
"Not having a ship of my own, I can't make that promise. But we can talk to Val. Her being your ride might give you an incentive to keep her alive, too."
He tossed her a pained look as he followed her to the bar. "Now, was that necessary? You make me sound way more mercenary than I am."
"Who's a mercenary?" Rakan asked, the points of his ears quivering.
"Depends on your definition," Magnus said. "Myself, I prefer the term ‘bodyguard.’"
Rakan's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in a toothy grin. "You're gonna be Tessa's bodyguard? Got your work cut out there, partner."
"I wouldn't say no to some help," Magnus said, holding out his hand to be enclosed in Rakan's lightly furred paw.
"Knock it off, both of you," Tessa mumbled, and strode out of the bar, leaving them to follow or not, as they would.
