Heart of the Spider's Web Page 6

  Something in Rayan’s chest clenched, and he let it ache just a moment longer than he should have. Fun. That was a word he’d mostly forgotten. He took his job protecting the crew so seriously that he’d forgotten what it could be like to work alongside someone, instead of constantly looking over their shoulders.

  “Anytime,” he said at last. “So, do you know where we’re going? Or are you planning to wander the streets until we cross someone meaner than that last pair?”

  “That’s a low bar.” She tugged out her omni to make a quick check against the map function. “And since you asked, I do know where we’re headed. It’s just a couple more blocks.”

  Rayan held back as she walked on, looking one last time to make sure they weren’t being followed, and then to admire the sway of her hips from behind. There were plenty of filthy thoughts that came into his head, but he’d have to save them for the next time he had shore leave and an account full of credits. That didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize until then.

  Seven

  He was staring at her ass again, intently enough that Sheri wondered if he had x-ray vision or some other means to see through the bulky, shapeless thermal wear trying to keep her warm in the chill air. It wasn’t the attention that frustrated her so much as the way Barr made the heat rise in her chest. It didn’t matter that with his broad shoulders and narrow hips that he looked like her dirtiest fantasies come to life; she couldn’t be with anyone who was...

  What exactly?

  ...a thief? A smuggler? Violent? She’d been all of those things and more in her career with Intelligence Command. She hadn’t shied away from bedding Collin, who’d had all the same qualities.

  Her brain rebelled at the equivalence. It was different for her. She was The Good Guy. The black-and-white framework IntCom provided made it easy to divide the Three Systems into teams. And if it helped her team “win,” it was fine.

  Except Barr, and the rest of the Sentinel’s crew, didn’t feel like cartoonish villains. They skirted the edge of the law, sure, but it kept them flying in a system where independents had the lifespan of an hour-moth. If the teams were flipped, she wouldn’t have had any more issue with their crimes than she had with what she’d done herself.

  Sheri bit the inside of her cheek. No. These people were not her friends. They were allies she needed to go after bigger fish, like Ariadne. She could like them, like an engineer had a favorite spanner, but engineers didn’t have sex with their tools.

  Actually, scratch that, she’d seen a holovid once...

  “You’re grinning.”

  His voice beside her shocked Sheri out of her moment of reverie. “I grin. Lots of people grin when they’re not completely muscle-bound between the ears.”

  He winced, and guilt stabbed into her. He was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He was quick thinking and adapted well to situations, and his insight was dangerous.

  “That was unfair of me. I’m...” Sorry, she started to say, but she balked. If he was hurt, he was distracted. The conversation with Collin could tip her hand to Barr, something she couldn’t risk. Despite the way it pricked her guilt, she avoided apologizing. She stopped several storefronts before the correct address and stared up the street. “I’m going to need you to watch from out front of the store.”

  “Like hell.”

  She turned and allowed herself to put a hand on his chest. To comfort him. Support him. Some other lie. They were all an excuse to touch him again. “I mean it. I have no idea what’s coming for us, or how this is going to go down in there.”

  “All the more reason for me to come in,” he growled. “We’re partners.”

  “Exactly. And partners trust each other.”

  His laugh was devoid of amusement. “Not with a paycheck they don’t.”

  She let out a breath, trying to figure out how to argue around him. If she was honest with herself for five minutes, she actually preferred the idea of him being in the store with her. She hadn’t seen Collin since someone had ratted out their affair to IntCom, and they’d been sent apart. If he blamed her...

  No, she’d rather have Barr at her back than not. He had a vested interest in keeping her alive. Enlightened self-interest was almost as good as trust in her experience.

  “Fine. But don’t come in at the same time as me. Let me get a head start in there. With luck this Collin guy isn’t going to know we’re together.”

  He thought about that for a moment, then leaned in as he nodded. “Good idea.”

  “Glad you approve.” She moistened her lips, and his gaze zeroed in on her tongue like a tracker-shot.

  He tucked the ragged length of her hair behind her ear, his hand huge next to her face where it stayed to cradle the side of her head. “Tell me no,” he said.

  She wanted to. God, she needed to. But her body wanted more than her brain could argue with. If she really wanted to convince herself, she could tell herself it was part of the role she was trying to play. But she knew the truth. She wanted him because he was dangerous. Settling for Collin would be a pale, if safe, substitute. “Why would I do that?”

  He closed the distance, his palm pressed against the wall next to her head. His kiss was like him. Confident, sure of himself, and unrelenting. Her hand tangled in his parka, as much to keep him close as to support herself. Her other hand looped around the back of his head; the stubble of his scalp scraped on her palm. Electricity pulsed all the way to the soles of her feet, each jolt drawing her core tighter, egging her to take more from him.

  And just like that he was gone, stepping back from her with a wolfish grin on his lips. She needed a moment to get her bearings again, and collapsed back against the rough striations of the wall. His voice was sinfully rough. “I’d say it was for luck, but...”

  “Lady luck can find her own kisses. That one was mine.” She shook her head to clear it and hoped he hadn’t left her lips too swollen from his attention. “Come find me in five minutes.”

  “You’ve got my payday at stake,” he replied. “Good luck keeping me away.”

  STEPPING INTO THE SHOP that Collin used as a front would have been disorienting, even without Barr’s kiss pinballing around in her emotions. The two together? Not conducive to a good cover. She followed the sound of the door chime into the shop and blinked while her eyes adjusted to the bright light compared to outside.

  As covers went, she’d seen better. Any attempt to make the place resemble a thriving business was clearly a delusion of grandeur. She could see thin layers of dust on most of the items on the shelves, and she doubted there’d been a legal sale in the store in years. Then again, that was the point. Collin was working the fringes of the black market, and as he watched her from his place at the counter, he certainly looked the part.

  When she and Collin had been partners, he’d been handsome if a bit full of himself. Well-toned, with a confidence undeserved for his skill level. He came off like the holovid version of a spy, which made him reckless and undisciplined. Add in the sense of his being forbidden fruit—at least in IntCom’s eyes—and it made him irresistible.

  The Collin staring at her from behind the counter was not that man. He still had the right shape, at least mostly, and she could see the microsecond of recognition flicker across his face before his masks slammed back down. Everything else had changed. His skin was sallow, drawn, if not haggard, and his eyes had a flinty cold to them that felt new. Or perhaps it had always been there, and distance had helped her to see it better.

  She meandered through the aisles slowly, making sure the store was empty, then went to the counter where Collin sat. Next to his scanner, he had a personal holovid unit playing a melodrama she didn’t recognize in what sounded like Hungarian.

  He glanced at her empty hands when she stopped. “If you’re not buying anything, leave.”

  “Actually, I’m looking to sell. A buddy of mine, Royce Simmons, said you could help.” IntCom had set the name aside as a flag for agents in need of assistance
, and Sheri hated breaking it out now, almost as much as she hated to think what might happen if she couldn’t get the crew access to selling off the Spectrivax.

  Collin straightened on his chair. “Royce is an old friend. I don’t know that he’s ever mentioned you.”

  “Well, since his substance abuse problems started, he may have forgotten. Spectrivax can do that to you.” Sheri slipped a hand into her pocket, fingers curling around the thin tube of the injector.

  The door chimed again as Barr came in and moved through the store. Collin glanced at him before turning back to her. “Damn shame about Royce. How bad is he?”

  “Last I’d heard, he was up to six cases a month.” She passed one of the injectors she’d brought across the chipped counter.

  He scooped it over the edge and studied the thin container below her line of sight. After a few moments, his hands came up, empty, and he began typing on his omnidevice. “That’s a terrible addiction. Far too many injections.”

  “That’s why he wanted me to go to market for him.”

  Collin’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a big gesture for Royce.”

  “True. But friends look out for each other.” Something felt off, and Sheri didn’t like the way the coded conversation was turning. The door chimed again as two more people came into the shop. Only slightly smaller than Barr, they wore mismatched parkas and heavy gloves.

  Collin’s hand closed over her wrist, stroking the bare skin under the cuff of her sleeve, but the gesture felt more like a threat than a seduction. “I don’t have any friends I would trust that much. Neither do you, whatever Royce says.” He leaned in close to whisper, “And the bounty on your head is enough to set me up for months.” He pressed a button under the counter, and the reinforced door behind him popped open. Collin was through it and had it closed before Sheri could wrap her head around the idea that he’d just turned on her. The door in the back of the store opened, and three more thugs came in, dressed similarly to the first pair.

  One of them came forward and braced his hands against the counter next to her. Without looking at her, he offered a jagged smile. “I’m supposed to tell you that Ariadne will be lenient if you return her ’Vax and personally beg for her mercy. It’d be the smart choice. Then again, I’ve heard you don’t like to do the smart thing, so...”

  RAYAN SAW SHERI DROP a fist into the elbow of the guy at the counter before he’d even finished speaking. The goon stumbled back holding his elbow, howling, until her follow-up punch drilled him in the jaw and knocked him to the floor. It was all he could do not to laugh at the surprise on the guy’s face. Sheri fought dirty. He approved.

  It wasn’t a knockout blow, and the guy was starting to get back to his feet as the remainder of the men who’d arrived ran toward the front of the store. They’d need a miracle to actually defeat five-on-two odds, but they didn’t need to win. Just stay alive long enough to get out. Then it became a chase instead of a fight, and he liked those odds a lot better.

  Before then, he had plenty of frustration to work out of his system. One of the goons realized Rayan wasn’t with them and charged him. Barr gave the guy equal points for bravery and stupidity, stepping to one side at the last minute to knife-hand his assailant in the throat. The man went down, gasping, and Rayan moved to help Sheri.

  She was bleeding; a punch had caught her cheek and split the skin. His rage went incandescent at the sight. He waded in among the others, fists lashing out at anyone within reach. She used the distraction of his arrival to stagger one of her opponents with a shot to the solar plexus before serving a ball-crushing chaser. Her eyes glittered like this was the best date ever. Like she was enjoying this.

  A feral growl ripped out of his throat. He spun to take a kick on his arm, and she pressed her back to his. Two bodies, trusting each other. Coming together.

  Dammit, he hated when Hicks’s stupid cards were right.

  Another punch. Rayan caught the wrist under his arm and twisted, pulling his opponent off-balance. Sheri powered her stiffened fingers into the exposed nerve complex in the guy’s armpit as though she and Rayan had practiced the move a hundred times. Her combat sense was easily as good as his. She replaced his raw strength with vicious nerve strikes that gave her command of opponents twice her size.

  Moving together, they reached the back door of the shop, and she flung open the door. They’d taken out two of the other fighters completely, more than he’d expected. But that still left three, and it would only be a matter of time before attrition started. Honestly, he was shocked none of them had drawn a weapon yet. They must have special orders from the Spider Queen not to go too far.

  One of the remaining thugs tugged a ceramic knife out of his boot.

  Spoke too soon. Rayan chuckled as he twisted to get between Knife-guy and Sheri. The other two goons held back, presumably to avoid getting cut by their friend, though he clearly knew what he was doing. Rayan watched the blade and the fighter’s feet. As Knife-guy danced in with a feint, Sheri came around Rayan’s side and drove a gloved fist into Knife’s hip. A loud crack sounded in the store, and ozone crackled in Rayan’s nostrils as the fighter went down, convulsing.

  Rayan stared at her, replaying the fight in his mind and he still didn’t know when she’d pulled out a shock-glove. Or from where. The weapon delivered a brutal amount of electricity and could be adjusted from just incapacitating all the way to agonizing. They were also illegal as hell. Damn, but she continued to surprise him.

  “Go! Now!” Sheri shoved him with her ungloved hand, and Rayan backpedaled out the door with her chasing him. She slammed the door behind her and jammed a piece of scrap under the handle. “That won’t hold them long, we gotta go.”

  He couldn’t agree more. Sheri took off up the back alley, heading in the direction of the nearest train station. As he followed, Rayan heard a crash as the door they’d just closed burst open. He and Sheri broke into a run.

  Running offended him. The odds had become two-on-two. With Sheri beside him, that meant Ariadne’s men might as well be outnumbered. Rayan started to slow down. “We should ambush them.”

  She stared at him. “Don’t be foolish. We don’t know how many more they might have called in. Another team could be circling even now to cut us off. We need to get out of here. Unless you’ve got a rocket up your ass, getting back to the ship’s our best bet.”

  At the station, she jumped into one of the autonomous cabs instead of heading down to the platform. Rayan slid in next to her. “I thought we were taking the train.”

  She put in an address and tapped her omni to the cab’s console, and it silently glided away from the curb. “Yeah. So do they.” She nodded out the window at the two men who’d been chasing them. A moment later, two more came running up the steps from the station platform. “And that’s why we didn’t.”

  “Clever,” Rayan said, and meant it. He’d discounted the odds of there being additional teams hunting them. Clearly Ariadne wasn’t interested in taking chances.

  “It’s what I’d have done.” She flopped back against the seat and released a long breath.

  He reached out a thumb and brushed it against the split on her cheek. It came away sticky, smearing the blood where it hadn’t already dried. The skin had started to redden and swell. She’d have a hell of a bruise in a few hours. “You’re bleeding.”

  Sheri scoffed and lifted his hand by the wrist. The knuckles of his hand had split open and crusted with blood. “So are you. Don’t double-standard me, Barr.”

  Her defiance rekindled the hunger in his veins, and he glanced at her mouth. Fighting alongside her had been too natural, too easy. Even he and Zion—after years together—didn’t mesh as easily.

  She shifted suddenly, moving to straddle him in the low headspace of the car. The hot, heavy press of her hips against his dragged a growl from him, and she captured the sound with her mouth. Teeth grazed his lower lip, the pain searing him, and he shoved open her parka to slide his hands up her rib cage. He pause
d, and her moan of encouragement urged his palms higher, until the weight of her breasts fill his hands.

  She ground down against him, heat crushing his cock, the sensation like lightning charging along his nerves. He nipped at her throat, and she leaned her head back, fingers splayed across the back of his skull to hold him in place.

  “Public intercourse is a misdemeanor on Hodur. Failure to cease will redirect this cab to the authorities.” The autonomous cab’s voice sounded like a disapproving schoolteacher and was just as effective as a bucket of ice water. Sheri instantly slid off his lap. Her quiet laugh, husky in the nearness of the cab, only made her disheveled look sexier. He was half tempted to risk the arrest. After all, a jail cell was just as effective at keeping people out as in. Given the evidence he’d seen, though, there was no guarantee Ariadne didn’t have people on her payroll in the police.

  Besides, getting back to the launch meant he could make sure Darcy was safe. And while there weren’t any beds in the launch, the cockpit seats were at least as roomy as the cab, and she’d already proved they could make that work.

  Her fingers laced into his and squeezed. “You know...it’s a pretty long trip back to the Sentinel.”

  He grinned. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  Shit. He had it bad.

  Eight

  Collin had betrayed her. And then she’d let adrenaline and lust tangle up her brain, and things got out of hand with Barr. Or into hand, if she wanted to be literal. Big, rough hands that...

  Sheri bit the inside of her cheek and tried to calm the pulse that thundered in her ears and between her thighs. She needed to keep her head clear and being in such close proximity to Barr wasn’t doing her any favors. Fighting with him at her back had been too natural, felt too good. The lethal grace with which he moved and the precise way they could anticipate and match each other’s actions made it easy to imagine what he’d be like in bed. Or on literally any other available surface.