Bastien grabbed his blaster as he heard the sound of an engine. But after his heartbeat quit drowning the sound out, he realized it was Jullien making another supply run to him.
True to his word, he hadn’t forgotten him. As often as he could, Jullien popped in with food, medicine, ammo, and weapons.
Thrāix with porn, comedy, and top-notch alcohol Bastien was sure had to be banned in most systems.
And between those unlikely two was always Unira with her calm, mothering nature.
Bastien holstered his weapon as he headed outside to greet them.
As soon as the ramp lowered, Jullien’s adopted son Vasili came running down to greet him. The boy was so thrilled to be added to the crew that he didn’t even mind whenever Jullien gave him the crap tasks, hoping to make Vas rethink becoming Tavali.
“Bas!”
He embraced the eager teen who was also a blond Fyreblood Andarion like Unira and Jullien’s wife Ushara. “Hey, kid. How you doing?”
“Good.”
“Your sisters still making you crazy?”
Vasili screwed his face up as Bastien mentioned the half sisters Jullien had fathered with Vas’s mother. “I love them, but … yeah. One day you’re going to meet them and see what a handful twins are.”
Bastien laughed. He’d love nothing more than to meet Jullien’s wife and toddler daughters. “And your mom?”
“Having another baby.”
Bastien arched a brow at the teen’s tone. “You okay with that?”
“I’m praying for a brother who can run some interference with the spider twins.”
Ruffling his hair and laughing, Bastien stepped away to greet Thrāix, Unira, and Jullien. But the moment he did, he caught the look on their faces that said they were bringing bad news to his door.
“What’s going on?”
Jullien handed him a tactical pack. “Have you heard the latest?”
“About…”
“The Caronese have declared war on The League, and with them the Triosans, Andarions, Garvons, Gourish, and Exeterians.”
“So basically The Sentella started the war and their nations are backing?”
Jullien nodded.
Bastien grimaced at the nightmare that had to be. “And The Tavali?”
“Two of the four Nations have already signed on. So far, the Gorts are not a part of it.”
“Because Trajen won’t let them fight it,” Thrāix said under his breath.
Unira sighed. “For good reason. I’m glad he’s keeping us out of it. I’ve no wish to start conducting funeral services over those I love.”
Yet Bastien knew the gleam in Jullien’s eyes that said his cousin had different plans. “Well, let us get to your supplies. I know you’ve been waiting on some of them.”
When Bastien started after them, Thrāix pulled him aside. “Just so you know, your loved ones are safe from the war.”
Bastien’s blood went cold at his words. “My loved ones are all dead.”
Thrāix’s eyes lightened to an eerie, indefinable shade of blue. “Not all of them. Trust me. The day will come when you’ll reunite. I just thought you should know you’re not forgotten and your heart is safe.”
Bastien wanted to believe that. Desperately. But he was sure Ember had moved on with her life. He’d long ago reconciled himself with the fact that she was no longer his heart. That what they’d had was over and done with. Nothing more than fading memories that haunted him.
Or worse, tortured him with the vivid memories of a warm body that was far from the cold pile of blankets on the floor that made up his bed nowadays. Still, he couldn’t keep his treacherous mind from betraying him. Anymore than his body from craving hers.
Why? He had no idea. It was the worse sort of hell. Maybe that was his real punishment. Knowing she was out there and that he couldn’t have her.
* * *
Ember cursed as fire rained down on them from League ships. Jay was at the helm and flying like the demonic bitch she was famed for. But their enemy was closing in.
“More fire at click eight!” she shouted into her mic. “Shore it up, ladies!”
The women were eerily silent as they fought. A far cry from the raucousness of Ember’s sisters and the other Gyron Force troops she’d once fought beside. All she heard was the frantic beating of her heart and the recoil of their cannons.
Finally, they heard the sound they’d been waiting for.
“Drive’s fixed! Hit it, Captain!”
An instant later, Jay went into hyperdrive, but not before one last volley of fire cut across their ship and sent them skidding sideways.
Ember cursed again as she slammed against the side hard enough to daze herself.
All of a sudden, as everything around her darkened, she was no longer in a space battle. She was home again on Kirovar.
She saw Bastien holding her as he inspected the blow she’d taken that had rung her bell pretty significantly. “Good thing you’re hard-headed, huh?” He flashed that charismatic smile that could get him out of any and all trouble.
“You’re not funny, Cabarro.”
“That’s only because you have a head injury. If you were running at your usual speed, then you’d know I’m hilarious.”
“Only in your mind.”
“And according to you last night, in bed.”
She groaned at that. “Don’t go there, Captain. I’m in enough pain. Don’t need you adding to it.”
With a gentle kiss that left her famished and wanting to strip him bare, he let go of her so that he could stand up and use the shadows for cover. Like a phantom wind, he went to the opening of the building they were holed up in. She took a moment to sweep a hungry look down his ripped body, and imagined what he’d look like without that uniform on.
Yeah, she definitely had a head injury. That was the only way to explain why she’d be this horny while they were in this much danger …
Bastien scowled. “I’m not detecting any readings. I think we got—” He broke off as someone opened fire on him.
He was back at her side so fast that she hadn’t even realized he’d moved. Scooping her up, he carried her and ran with a speed that defied belief.
“Ember?”
Blinking, she realized it was Jalyna Xever standing over her right now and not Bastien. The Fyreblood Andarion captain who ran their Tavali crew.
“Jay?”
“Yeah, Em. Where did you go, girl?”
Home. The word choked her as she remembered that her home no longer existed. Everything she’d once known was long gone.
Just like Bastien.
And that almost broke her into tears, but by sheer force of will she caught herself and shoved her emotions back down.
No doubt her suppressed feelings for Bastien were what had caused her vision. She’d learned just last night that he’d been killed two years ago. That he’d died alone at the hands of a ruthless League assassin.
That news had done more damage to her heart than she’d have ever thought possible. Stupidly, she’d believed herself to be over him. To have put that part of her past to rest years ago, and come to terms with it.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
Not since the death of her parents had anything hurt so much. All the regrets she had mounted to the point they were virtually debilitating.
I should have told Bastien the truth when I had the chance.…
Why did I keep such a secret from him? Why didn’t I marry him when he asked me?
Don’t think about it.
With a ragged breath, she pushed herself up. “What happened?”
“We took a hit on our way out. Fera’s working on it. At least they didn’t knock out the drive.”
Ember narrowed her gaze at the way Jay said that. “What did they knock out?”
“Life support.”
“Oh goodie! Just what we can do without!”
Jay laughed. “Yeah, I know. I swear, if we get out of this and make it home, I’m grabbing my kids and my husband, and we’re grounded for a while. I’m done with these risks. I don’t care how much cred we’re making.”
Ember couldn’t blame her for the sentiment. But it only worked for those who had family they could get to.
For her? It was a burning shot to her heart, as it reminded her that she had no one waiting at the Cyperian StarStation base to welcome her return.
She’d been forced by a madman to give up her family in order to keep them safe. She didn’t even know where her sisters were. Ember couldn’t afford to. Barnabas had wasted no effort trying to run her down and end her. To end everyone she loved.
It was what had made her Tavali. They kept her moving.
And alive.
Jay adjusted the band around her insanely bright, fluorescent red hair. In total contradiction to the Gorturnum Tavali rule book that specified an all-black battlesuit whenever they were flying missions, Jay wore one of yellow and red. But then, given that her sister was their vice admiral and the second-highest-ranking member of their Nation, she could get away with a lot of things no one else could.
The lights came up, signaling that their engineer had succeeded in saving their lives.
Again.
Jay let out an audible breath of relief. “All right, ladies,” she said over the intercom for every one on their all female crew. “We’re going home, and after this near-death experience, I’m taking time off. Those of you who don’t want to take liberty, submit your names to my sister on our return and she’ll reassign you to active crews. But after this … I’m done for a bit.”
She paused to study Ember. “You all right, Major?”
Ember rubbed at the lump on her head and winced, wishing she could be with her loved ones. Especially a certain male someone. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Yet they both knew she was lying. She hadn’t been okay in a long, long time.
Jay patted her on the arm before she headed for the helm.
Ember had never been a covetous person, but right then as she listened to the excited pirate Tavali crew beginning to make plans for their extended vacations with their loved ones, she felt so alone and isolated. She envied them.
Had she said yes that night to Bastien as she should have, she’d have been married, too, and living a life with her husband and children.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she pretended for just a second that she had Bastien with her again. Stupid, she knew. She’d kill Bastien if he were here.
Beat him until he bled for being so reckless and stupid as to not have seen Barnabas’s treachery. For such a worldly, surly bastard, Bas had always been incredibly innocent. Always seen the best in people. That was what she loved most about him. He’d given everyone the benefit of the doubt.
Even the ones who didn’t deserve it.
And in all these years, she’d never found anyone who’d treated her with the love and regard he had. No one had respected her more or given her such devotion.
How could I have been so blind? In her own way, she’d been even more naive than he had.
It was too easy to take things for granted when they were right in front of your face. Especially when they were people. She’d assumed he’d always be here. That love like his would be easy to find again. Her parents had loved like that. Tasi and Cin did.… How stupid she was.
She’d allowed her own fears to override her joy, and her ability to see how much she relied on him. Cut his heart out when he offered it to her, and she knew it. Then instead of trying to save what they’d had, she’d ruthlessly ignored his attempts to reconcile and shut him out more. She’d let her fears, anger, and hurt get in the way of her happiness.
Now it was too late.
Bastien’s dead.
Swallowing against the pain and grief that threatened to knock her down, she rubbed at the locket that held the last bit of him she had. And wished for things she knew could never be again.
While their high admiral kept them officially out of the Sentella–League War, Trajen couldn’t keep his crews out of danger. The League didn’t differentiate between the Nations. To them, one Tavali was all Tavali.
Of course, that was the Tavalian code. Still, this was a long way from being over. She’d left one war behind only to fall headfirst into another.
Only this time, she had no idea what she was fighting for.
* * *
Bastien drew up short as he saw the carnage in front of him. He’d been aware of the invaders near his home for days now. A huge-ass Andarion warrior with a teen male and a human female had come in first. Bastien had been trying his best to figure out why the two Andarions had a young human woman with them.
At least until the other blond human female had been dropped off. She’d made straight for them.
Then he’d assumed they must be a family on some kind of screwed-up vacation. Though why anyone would want to take a break in this fected heat and desolate desert, he couldn’t imagine.
But then, Andarions were a screwed-up race with some peculiar ideas on comfort that he couldn’t even begin to fathom. He’d marked this new group off as harmless and had left them alone, only checking their location from time to time to make sure they didn’t come near his base.
Until he’d seen and heard the firefight that’d resulted in enough bodies to make a League assassin cream his pants.
The dead were Bolodorians from the looks of their craft and uniforms. A group of incas—freelance assassins. Lowlife scum who made his flesh crawl. But for once, they hadn’t been interested in him or his bounty. They appeared to have been exclusively after the Andarion family.
Something verified as he watched the warrior searching the twenty-five bodies he’d taken down with minimal effort and heard a radio go off on one of them.
“Hiller? You there, copy?”
The warrior paused to listen, then picked up the link closest to him. “Yeah.”
Bastien was impressed. Took balls to answer an enemy’s comm. Kudos to the beast.
“Did you get him? I don’t hear no more fighting.”
“Yeah,” he repeated.
“Fucking awesome. Don’t forget to bag the head with the DNA sample. We get twice the payout for it. See you in a few.”
Yeah, the Andarion didn’t seem to share that sentiment since it was his head they were calling for. Bastien couldn’t blame him for that. It’d wreck his day too. Look on the Andarion’s face said he was pissed off to be their target. And that if he laid hands to any more of these guys, he would be about as charitable as Bastien should he ever be lucky enough to get his ex-wife’s neck in his hands.
Intending to wait until the Andarion finished and moved on so that Bastien could search the bodies for supplies, he continued to watch the warrior through the scope of his sniper’s rifle.
As the Andarion moved out of his viewer range, Bastien stepped in closer, making sure not to lose sight of him.
The moment he did, the Andarion jerked his blaster out and aimed it straight at his head.
“Don’t,” Bastien growled, switching his targeting laser on with his thumb to warn the Andarion that he was already aimed at the warrior’s heart.
Assured mutual destruction.
The Andarion didn’t flinch or move as he kept his own dot clearly centered between Bastien’s eyes. If he wasn’t wearing his shooting goggles, that light would have burned out his vision and left him blind. “One twitch, human, and I promise you’ll be dead before I will.”
Bastien refused to back down or let his words rattle him. Honestly? He’d heard worse threats from his mother for leaving the toilet seat up in her personal bathroom.
So he kept his own dot right where the Andarion’s heart was. But he also knew that a lengthy standoff would give the Andarion’s family time to move in behind him. Better to defuse the situation and let him know Bastien wasn’t a threat than risk an injury.
With his left hand held up, he moved slowly forward. “Ditto.”
The Andarion scowled as he raked a look over Bastien’s ragged clothing that said he’d figured out Bastien was alone and not in much position to be a big threat to him.
Other than the blaster he held.
He could only imagine what the Andarion must think. Bastien’s clothes were worn out. And though he had his hair tied back, away from his eyes, it was long and ragged from where he’d been keeping it cut with a blunt knife. He always meant to request shears from Jullien or Unira, but somehow he forgot about it whenever he talked to them. Those brief breaks in loneliness made him forget a lot of things.
His cheek itched, reminding him of how scraggly his beard was, too. Yeah, he probably looked like a reject from some psych ward.
After a few seconds, a slow smile of appreciation spread across the Andarion’s face. “So are we going to stand here all day, weapons drawn? I’m game if you are.”
His humor caught Bastien off guard. He relaxed a tiny degree, as the Andarion’s demeanor and manner reminded him a lot of his old friend Fain Hauk. Only a mighty War Hauk could be this relaxed and nonchalant with a blaster trained on him.
Or an idiot.
That led him back to his War Hauk analogy as they were made up of equal parts of stupid and courageous.
But he didn’t miss the way the Andarion watched his eyes carefully, as if to see whether or not Bastien intended to attack him. That alone told him just how skilled a killer this gargantuan male was.
Which meant he’d kill Bastien if he sensed a threat.
With no choice, Bastien did something he hadn’t done in a long time.
He trusted his gut and lowered his weapon.
Yet not so much that he couldn’t get a well-placed shot off should the Andarion make a move he didn’t like.
“Look, I’m just here to scavenge before the others arrive. You do your thing, I do mine, and we part ways.”
The Andarion nodded. “You’re Kirovarian?”
That set off every alarm in Bastien’s body. He took aim at his heart again. “How do you know that?”
The warrior holstered his weapon with a nonchalance that said he had no intention of attacking. “Your accent. So what was your rank, soldier?”
Yeah, he was an astute bastard. Deciding the best course of action would be to attempt a friendly encounter, Bastien finally put his own weapon away. “What kind of Andarion knows humans so well?”
“I was schooled with humans.”
Bullshit! Bastien knew that never happened. He brought his weapon up, intending to kill him where he stood. But before he could pull the trigger, the Andarion disarmed him with lightning speed.
Bastien attacked.
The Andarion deflected the blow and returned it with one that would have incapacitated him had it made contact. Luckily, Bastien dodged just in time. But before he could counter with another strike, the Andarion twirled, and delivered a staggering fist to his jaw that rang his bell for days. Worse, the oversized bastard head-butted him then flipped him to the ground.
Stunned and dazed, Bastien waited for the Andarion to finally put him out of his never-ending misery.
He didn’t.
Instead, the Andarion stared at Bastien’s stomach, where his shirt had lifted to betray the brand that cut through Bastien’s soul and dignity every time he saw it.
His Ravin mark.
The Andarion immediately held his hands up and backed off. “I’m not here to hunt or kill you, friend.”
Yeah, right.
And yet, he could have easily killed him a second ago and had chosen not to. Bastien wasn’t sure why as he glared at the beast. “You’re League, aren’t you? Isn’t that why you’re here?”
The Andarion scratched his chin with the back of his hand. “Used to be, and was discharged years ago. If I wasn’t, I’d have killed you already. These days, I’m Sentella only.” He gestured toward the weapons on the ground that were left behind from his victims. “Walk with peace, brother. Take your supplies and go. I won’t stop or track you.”
Still not sure he could trust him not to shoot him the minute he turned his back, Bastien wiped at the blood on his lips, then pushed himself to his feet. One thing was sure, he wanted more distance between them.
Like the gutter rat he’d been forced to become, Bastien scurried over to the other side to watch the muscled mountain. He still had the traditional Andarion warrior’s braids that fell to the middle of his back. And even though he was dressed in civilian gear, there was no doubt this warrior had taken a lot of lives.
Something evidenced as he viciously cut off one of the heads of the men who’d been sent to kill him and then put it in the container they’d brought to house his. Brutal and yet poetic.
Bastien would have done the same.
As the Andarion started for his airbee, Bastien called out to him. “I was captain first rank. Gyron Force.”
The expression on the Andarion’s face as he turned back to rake him with another look said that he knew who and what Gyron Force was. The elite of the elite for the Kirovarian armada and infantry. Less than one percent of one percent of their soldiers qualified to wear their uniforms.
Hell, even Bastien’s dad had been proud the day he earned rank among them. His uncle had stood in total disbelief … along with his older brother, who’d never been able to pass the tests to get in.
“I’m Hauk,” the Andarion finally said.
Hauk … yeah, he looked a lot like Fain. Fought like the vicious beast, too. They had to be related.
“Bastien Cabarro.” He licked at the blood on his lips as he narrowed his gaze on Hauk. “You really Sentella?”
Hauk slid his hand toward his blaster again, as if he was now afraid Bastien might go for his back. Made sense given the bounty that was attached to the heads of their membership. Even before the war that had broken out, The League had hated The Sentella. A rival organization, The Sents had made their living by saving and rescuing innocent League targets and putting them in places where The League couldn’t find them.
The higher-ups in The League tended to take issue with anyone who defied them.
“Yeah.”
“You guys really declare war on The League?”
Hauk relaxed a degree as he heard the hatred Bastien had been unable to remove from his words. “Definitely.”
“Then can you get this fucking chip out of me?” If anyone could, surely it would be a Sentella member.
“Absolutely. How long have you been implanted?”
Bastien curled his lip as a whole new wave of pissed off went through him. “Almost eight full minsid years.”
Hauk let out a low whistle of appreciation that Bastien had lived so long. Because they were tagged and hunted so viciously, they couldn’t risk being in any civilian population. Relegated to hellholes like this one, many ended up taking their own lives just to stop their suffering. It was physically and psychologically grueling to be hunted like an animal. And Bastien had considered the easy way out more than once. Only the need to avenge his family had kept him going.
As his brother had so often said, he was too damn spiteful to die. And no one ever got the better of him.
Hauk bit his lip, exposing a hint of his long fangs. “Damn long time to be on the run.”
“What can I say? I’m a stubborn bastard, fueled by venom and vengeance.” Sighing, Bastien finally relaxed as he approached Hauk. “So is that your family you’re traveling with?”
Hauk drew his blaster and pinned it right between Bastien’s eyes again. “What do you know of them?”
Bastien held his hands up, for the first time without fear. “Nothing. I saw your camp a few days ago. Being hunted, I make it a point to check out anyone who lands here. I figured you were on a hiking trip of some sort, so I left you alone and went away. Seems to be some kind of Andarion thing around here. But usually it’s only two Andarions at a time, and they leave after a few weeks. Though why you guys want to vacation here, I cannot imagine. You are one fucked-up species.”
Snorting, Hauk holstered his blaster. “Have you been here the whole eight years?”
“Most of them. Once I realized the magnetic field and radiation played havoc with tracking devices, I decided Shithole Central suited me fine enough.”
Hauk snorted at that. “Doesn’t seem to be playing with mine. They haven’t had any problems tracking me.”
“Ah … that’s why they keep hitting you. Wondered about that.” Bastien frowned. “So who wants you dead?”
Hauk lifted the container that held his confiscated head. “That’s what I’m going to find out.”
Gruesome, but understandable.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Bastien nodded. “Guess being Sentella, you have a lot of friends who want to play with you.”
“Yeah, but I’d rather take my ball and go home.”
Bastien laughed. “Why do I doubt that?”
“Probably because I’m about to take my ball and go shove it up the ass of whoever started this.”
And now Hauk reminded him a lot of his cousin Jullien. “Spoken like a true Andarion.”
“Known a lot of us?”
Bastien hesitated to answer. Obviously, Hauk didn’t know he was royal or related to Jullien, and he wasn’t about to bring that sore topic up since The Sentella had their own bounty out on his cousin’s hide. Not that he blamed them. The Sentella was led by Jullien’s twin brother, who hated him over the fact that Jullien had stupidly assisted Nykyrian’s bitterest enemy in his abduction of Nykyrian’s wife.
Hence the condition of the base Bastien currently lived in. He’d found those data files and had been shocked by them.
Until he’d heard Jullien’s side of things.
His cousin had been in a dire situation, and much like Bastien, had been left with almost no options for survival. And he loved Jullien, and owed him way too much to ever judge him for the steps he’d taken to keep himself alive.
Desperate people did desperate things.
He was just too damn grateful to have his cousin still with him.
However, he wasn’t about to bring up something that could get him killed right now. So he settled on a safer Andarion topic.
“Just one.” Technically true since Jullien was only half-blooded and while Unira and Vasili were Andarions, the Fyreblood race was vastly different from the Ixurians—which was what those with dark hair and skin would be considered. “Nasty-tempered bastard, but damn good in a fight.” He cast an amused grin at Hauk. “Now that I think about it, he looks a lot like you.”
“Yeah, well, we all look alike.”
Bastien rolled his eyes at the bad stereotype that Andarions used against all humans, and it definitely didn’t apply to him. “Wouldn’t know. He’s the only Andarion”—full-blooded Ixurian, anyway—“I’ve been this close to, besides you. Come to think of it, his name’s also Hauk. Only it’s his last name.”
Hauk narrowed his gaze as if he was one breath from attacking. “Friend or foe?”
“Good friend, so if you plan to shit-talk him, you better be ready to draw again and shoot when you do so.”
This time, Hauk grinned wide enough to expose razor-sharp fangs. “I never shit-talk Fain behind his back. Only to his face. Otherwise, big brother would kick my ass.”
Bastien went slack-jawed as he instantly knew exactly who this was—and it was a damn good thing he hadn’t brought up Jullien’s name, since this particular Andarion had his grudge against his cousin. “You Dancer?”
He inclined his head to him. “I’m Dancer.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. Small fucking universe. The way Fain talked about you, I thought you’d be the size and age of the kid you’re with. Had no idea you were so close to his age and build.” Bastien held his arm out to him. At a distance that let Dancer know he really was familiar with Andarions and their culture. “I owe Fain my life. You need a point or anchor, any time, I’m yours.”
Dancer shook his arm. “How you know my brother?”
“He used to live in my neighborhood on Kirovar. We worked out at the same gym. I was the only one who’d spar with him. After a while, we ended up as drinking buddies.”
Dancer nodded. “So you must know his first mate, Durden.”
Grimacing, Bastien shook his head. “Never heard him mention a Durden. Didn’t know he had any friends, to be honest. Not that he ever talked much, but when he did, you’re the only one he ever really talked about.” He paused as he realized what Hauk had just done, then smirked. “So did I pass?”
“Pass what?”
“Your test to see if I’m really a friend of Fain’s. Not that I blame you. Don’t trust strangers as a rule, either. But I do know Fain. I even know you have burn scars on your back from a childhood accident he blames himself for. And that his ex-wife was named Omira Antaxes.”
Hauk let out a slow, audible breath. “He must have been drunker than hell to tell you that.”
Bastien rubbed at his neck. “Yeah. It was on what would have been their tenth anniversary. He didn’t handle it well. He even told me why they divorced, and I know that if I allow anything to happen to you, he’ll hunt me down to the ends of the universe and gut me hard.”
“That I believe he would.” Dancer sat back as he started the airbee. “I’m headed up to bust ass. You joining or staying?”
Suddenly feeling like his old self again, Bastien grinned as he slung his leg over the airbee beside Dancer’s. “Always ready for a good fight. Especially when a mighty War Hauk’s involved.” He powered on the engine. “And I’m harboring a serious hard-on for anyone who hunts others for a living. I’d much rather be the predator than the prey.”
“Then welcome, brother.” Dancer inclined his head to him before he gunned the accelerator.
Bastien had no idea where they were going, and maybe it was stupid to join him. But it’d been too long since he’d felt like a unit, and honestly, he’d missed this.
Be careful where your loneliness takes you.
Then again, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. Until the chip was out of him, he couldn’t go after Barnabas. If he left this place, he’d be dead in a week, as it would trip every League alarm he came into contact with. And those fected things were lined up every few feet.
While he liked a good battle, even he had to sleep sometime and no one would fight that many assassins without a break.
So for now, he’d stay with Dancer and work as his wingman.
Dancer led him a few ticks away and then landed the airbike before he turned it off.
Cautious and alert, Bastien pulled in beside him.
Dancer removed the safeties and locks from his weapons while Bastien swung his dirty poncho over his shoulder and secured it so that the material wouldn’t get in his way during the fight.
Next, Bastien took inventory of his own weapons while Dancer secured his braids back from his face. Dancer unwound his long brown scarf from around his neck so that he could cover his head and the lower part of his face, no doubt to disguise the fact he was Andarion. Then he pulled out a pair of opaque eyeshields. Fully concealed, he took the container he’d scavenged from the assassins and waited for Bastien.
As soon as he was ready, they crept toward the shuttle where four men waited for their comrades to return with Dancer’s head.
“So what are you spending your money on?” a large, grimy man asked.
“Women,” his muscular companion said with a snort. “Lots of women.”
“Always looking for the next ex, eh?”
“Always.”
Dancer met Bastien’s gaze. “Cover me.”
He scowled at him. “Want to fill me in on your plan?”
“Told you already. Bust ass.”
Oh, okay. Sounded like one of Ember’s more infamous battle plans. Ill-conceived and guaranteed to get him shot.
But at least with her, she’d always kissed his boo-boos and made it up to him later. And while he was hornier than hell and Dancer was extremely attractive for a man, Bastien hadn’t been alone quite long enough to want to bed down with another man.
Yet.
Though another hour with Dancer, enough alcohol and darkness, and he might be persuaded …
Dancer rose to his feet and walked calmly toward the group. A breeze stirred, whipping the end of his scarf out while he entered their camp.
Two of them rose with their hands on their blasters.
“Can we help you?” the largest one asked. From the way the others deferred to him, Bastien assumed he must be their leader. His was also the voice he’d heard on the link, asking for a status update.
Without a word, Dancer tossed the container in his hand at the man. It landed at his feet, on its side.
“What’s this?”
Bastien bit back a laugh. Be careful what you ask, buddy. You might not like the answer.
Dancer slid his gaze to each man around him in turn. “A gift.”
Curious, the mercenary assassin knelt and opened the bag, then cursed as he saw the assassin’s head it contained. He scrambled for his blaster.
Faster than Bastien could move, Dancer shot his three companions, before closing the distance between them. He snatched the blaster from the man’s hand and pulled it back as if he was going to hit him with the stock. “Who sent you,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“W-w-what?”
Dropping the blaster, Dancer grabbed his shirt and shook him hard. “Who. Sent. You?”
Bastien came in, weapon drawn to make sure there was no one else in hiding. “Damn, Hauk. You’re a selfish bastard. I thought you were going to leave some for me.”
Dancer ignored him as he lowered the scarf to expose his face. With one hand, he dragged the assassin, who was now kicking and screaming, toward their skimmer.
“I’m a Boldorian! My guild brothers will swarm all over you for this!”
Dancer snorted in contempt of the threat. “Let ’em take a fucking number. Now answer my question or I’m going to start eating pieces off your body, human.” He pulled the knife from his belt and isolated the assassin’s thumb, but not before his gaze fell to the man’s forearm and a series of self-imposed marks that nauseated Bastien even more than the man’s stench. Those were an accounting for all the innocent lives the bastard had taken.
Some, Bastien noted, were for kids.
“We’ll start with this, I think,” Hauk growled.
He screamed like a bitch.
Grimacing, Bastien sucked his breath in audibly. “You know, friend, I’d tell the Andarion what he wants to know. They’re not a patient race … and they’re always, always hungry.”
Sweat poured down the assassin’s face as he gulped. “I-I-I don’t know. I just have the ID code. That’s all. I swear. You can see for yourself.”
Bastien took over covering him while Dancer yanked the assassin’s PD off his belt and turned it on.
Dancer cursed. “Cabarro? Can you read this?” He tossed it over.
Bastien took a second to look at it. “Yeah. It’s the contract for your ass. Spill-kill. Bonus for your head. Damn, Hauk. If I could spend money, I’d be tempted to end you for this amount. Fain or no Fain.”
Dancer shook his head, knowing Bastien wouldn’t dare. “Does it say who wants me dead?”
“Nah. He’s right. Just lists an anonymous ID for payment. If this armpit of the Nine Worlds had any reception, you might be able to backtrace it. But as it is…”
“See! I—” The man’s words ended with a sharp blast to his chest.
Dancer stepped over his body.
Bastien handed him the PD. “You’re one cold son of a bitch.”
Dancer jerked the assassin’s sleeve back to show the catalog of kills he’d carved into his flesh as proud tribute for all the victims he’d made.
Half of them were for women and children.
“He deserved worse.”
Bastien shot the body three more times.
Dancer arched a brow at his actions.
Shrugging, Bastien holstered his weapon. “He deserved worse.”
“Spend a lot of time in the sun, do you?”
More than he could imagine. Bastien laughed as Dancer went inside the skimmer to see if there was anything he could use to get away from any others who might come for him.
Or better yet, if they could fly it out themselves.
Unfortunately, it was low on fuel. And as he’d suspected, it was a preprogrammed skimmer used to take the assassins to and from their outer atmosphere spaceship. Which meant there were more of them waiting for this group to return.
Great. Just great. Leave it to a Hauk to rain down assassins on the head of his Ravin ass.
Bastien barely bit back a groan at this new nightmare. Out of the frying pan and into the fryer …
An alarm sounded.
“What’d you do?” Bastien asked sardonically.
Sighing, Dancer shot the control panel that housed the signal. It went instantly silent. “Must have been wired to the mission leader’s vitals. It’s an alarm to the mother ship notifying the others that they’re dead.”
Fected awesome … Bastien glared at the sky, expecting the enemy to start dropping in any second, given his luck. “How many you think are up there?”
“Don’t know. But they’re down twenty-nine men.”
“Survivors will be glad they don’t have to split that wide a cut.”
Dancer grunted. “Boldorians won’t care about that. It’s now an honor quest for them to come get me. With reinforcements.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “You scared yet?”
Bastien let out a false laugh. “I’m hunted by League assassins for fun and promotion, and you think these backwater pussies scare me? Really?”
Dancer clapped him on the back as a sign of brotherhood. “When we get that chip out of you, if you need a place, The Sentella’s always looking for good people.”
Yeah, but that wasn’t him. “I have some long-overdue payback to shove up someone’s ass first. After that? I just might accept your offer.”
Dancer confiscated arms, ammunition, and a radio before pulling back. He paused long enough to check the tracking device’s broadcast frequency.
“What are you doing?” Bastien asked with a frown.
“Reprogramming this to their frequency. They land, talk to each other, and I can peg them as fast as they peg me.”
Impressive, but he should expect no less from a Hauk. “You are Fain’s brother.”
“Taught him everything he knows.”
Bastien arched a disbelieving brow.
Dancer grinned. “About electronics. He taught me fighting … usually by sitting on my ass until I got big enough to make it hurt when he tried.”
Like him and Quin … and Lil. Honestly? He’d have fought Quin twice before ever tangling once with his sister. She hit three times as hard and was four times meaner.
“Ah.” Bastien grabbed food and water. “So what’s the plan now?”
“Pull back. Keep them after me and away from my family until reinforcements arrive.” He pinned Bastien with a hard stare. “If I die, go out with a major body count.”
“My kind of plan.” And the kind that used to send Ember into apoplexy. Hence one mission when she’d shot him herself before battle even began to keep him out of the fray.
Not to mention the kind of plan that used to make his mother and sister break out in hives.
Dancer took a few minutes to siphon fuel from the two airbees on board the skimmer and add it to the ones they’d ridden in with.
Bastien hesitated, then realized that he might as well tell Dancer everything about his situation. After all, he had the only safe place for them to stay in the entire desert. There was no need in being selfish with it. “If you need a good defensive place to lead them to, there’s an old abandoned base not that far from here where I make my home.”
“Bredeh’s?”
Bastien furrowed his brow. “You know it?” That stupid question was out before he could stop it. Of course Dancer would know it. Being a part of The Sentella and one of Nyk’s friends, he’d probably been in with the run that had bombed it to oblivion.
“Yeah, I do. It’s where I sent my family.”
Should have known … And strangely, he had an odd feeling of being violated, knowing that there were strangers with his personal stuff. Not that he had much, but still … Been a long, long time since he’d shared a place with anyone else or had to worry about someone going through his things.
“Oh. Damn. Hope they don’t find my porn.”
Dancer arched a brow.
“I’m kidding. I have it all locked up.”
Laughing again, Dancer shook his head. “You have been alone far too long.”
Bastien sobered. “Yeah, I have. It’s good to be around people again.”
“Not people, human.”
“Not human, either, brother. Lost my humanity a long time ago when I got betrayed into this hell of a life.” Bastien glanced back to where they’d left the majority of the bodies. “The caves will give us some cover, but trap us in an attack.”
“Yeah. We’re in the middle of the great Oksanan desert. Not a lot here, period.”
“Nothing but buzzards and raiders,” Bastien agreed. “Look, I know you don’t want to chance leading them to your family. But I’m thinking that we can use the old transmitter at the base to signal your girlfriend’s transport back from the city.”
Dancer went ramrod stiff at those words. “What do you mean?”
“The blonde who joined you? I couldn’t really make out her features, but she came in locally, right?”
Dancer’s demeanor turned darker. “You saw her arrive?”
Bastien nodded. “She was dropped off a little ways from your camp a few days ago.… You look like you had no idea.”
Dancer didn’t comment on that. “What all did you see?”
Bastien shrugged nonchalantly. “It was a small transport. Looked like it came out of one of the distant cities here. Didn’t appear space-worthy. It lacked shielding and…” His voice trailed off as he met Dancer’s gaze. “Why are you so pissed now?”
His breathing labored, Dancer curled his lip. “Because I think I just handed my kids off to my worst enemy.”