Heart of the Spider's Web Page 7
Not the time, Tyler. She forced herself to focus on the issue. Collin had sold her out.
She still couldn’t wrap her brain around it. They’d been lovers. She felt adrift, and with Barr pressed against her side, she had no way to message Intelligence Command for new instructions. Or at least warn them that Collin was a double agent.
Unless he wasn’t. It wouldn’t be beyond the reach of IntCom’s machinations to decide she was a risk and facilitate her capture to secure a better relationship with Ariadne. If the end goal was to keep tabs on the smugglers in the Three Systems, then an alliance there would just be a bigger version of what she was trying to do with Barr and the crew. If one overlooked the fact that the Spider Queen had actually murdered her rivals, something the Sentinel’s crew had never done.
It felt like she’d been tossed in microgravity and couldn’t find a surface to brace against. She let out a shaky breath, and Barr squeezed her shoulder.
“You cold?” His husky voice was layered with concern.
“Just coming down,” she replied. Let him think it was the adrenaline and the onset of pain. Her cheek certainly hurt enough to be believable.
He nodded. “I hate the post-fight shakes. There’s nothing to make them better.”
That wasn’t entirely true, she knew. Not caring about the damage you did, to yourself or others, went a long way to alleviate the comedown. The realization that Barr still had that shred of his humanity was unsurprising and every bit as inviting as the ease with which they’d fit together. After Collin’s betrayal, sex with Barr looked like an even worse idea. He was a physical reminder of everything she shouldn’t want. Shouldn’t have.
But God, she could want.
She needed to leave the ship before her common sense eroded completely. It would be too difficult to slip away on Hodur, but there were plenty of other places in the Three Systems where a person could disappear. The idea tore at her, but a clean break would be less painful than dragging it out.
The cab stopped, and she gave his hand one last squeeze before getting out. She scanned the streets for anyone who looked out of place—the spaceport was still an obvious destination for them, and Ariadne’s people were coordinated enough to think that far ahead. Or should have been. No one looked like they were watching for her and Barr; no groups of ruffians started stalking toward them as he left the cab.
“I don’t like this,” he growled. “There should be someone here for us.”
“Normally, I wouldn’t be eager for another fight, but yeah. You’re right.” Her cheek still ached, and she hoped Layth’s ill-stocked med bay would at least have a few doses of KnitFast to help speed the healing process along. But the concern that gnawed the back of her neck in the presence of all this quiet was more distracting than any pain. Something should have been waiting for them.
She turned and started walking away from the controlled gates into the spaceport. Barr fell in beside her. “You think the security’s dirty?”
“I think that I’ve worked enough dockyards to know when a spaceport doesn’t feel like it should.” She took a deep breath. “Ariadne owns most of the security on Nobu Station, so it would only make sense that she has her fingers in other places as well.” The whole deal stunk to high heaven, and they were stuck without an apparent solution. Until one presented itself, she needed to act, or she’d spend too much time focused on the man next to her.
The employee entrance for the dockworkers was right where she remembered it, complete with the smattering of workers on break, trying to fit in one more stimtube before they had to get back. The air near the gate was heavy with the sweet-smelling vapor, and even the aroma was enough to make her crave one herself.
Getting through the door was going to require a bit of trickery, and she had to hope Barr wouldn’t ask too many questions. Being captured was a bigger threat to her cover than simply being able to hack through questionable security. She glanced at Barr, who would stick out like a sore thumb. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d st—”
“No. There’s not.”
His protective growl rippled over her skin in delightful ways that she couldn’t afford to contemplate. “I’d ask you to try to fit in but look at you.” She waved her hand generally at his massive chest.
“You didn’t have any complaints in the cab.” His grin was entirely too smug, but she didn’t have a good counterargument. Indeed, the sheer physicality of him was partly why she couldn’t get him off her mind. Except both of them depended on her ability to do exactly that.
Sheri tugged out her omnidevice, trying to be casual as she unlocked the IntCom tools it hid. When she passed it over the scanner, the hacking tool did its job. The code registered, and the gate opened with a click. Despite the posted signs reading “no tailgating,” none of the other workers batted an eye as she held the gate open for Barr to follow her in.
The changing room was just inside the gate, and she led the way through the door like any other worker coming in to get ready for a shift. Fortunately, Hodur was one of the spaceports that provided uniform coveralls for their employees. She started stripping out of her gear from the launch, too aware of the way Barr watched her. Even with clothing on under her kit, she felt naked under his gaze.
“Do you have a plan? Or are you trying to distract me for other reasons?” One of the banks of lockers groaned as he leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest.
She pulled on one of the port-workers’ coveralls and smiled at him. “Can it be both?”
“Only if your plan requires an hour’s delay before we enact it.”
“Only an hour?” She scoffed. “Good to know I’m not missing anything.”
He pushed off the locker and leaned forward. “The first hour’s just for me to explore you with my mouth.”
Heat flared then curled low in her belly, bringing an awareness of her pulse in every inch of her skin. “Careful with setup like that. I’d hate to be disappointed.” She turned to fasten up her coveralls, hoping it could hide her blush.
“Never.” His voice was a sinful whisper next to her ear. The next minute he’d stood and was studying the rack. “None of these are going to fit me.”
“That’s okay. The plan works better with you dressed like that.” Plus, she didn’t trust herself to behave if he took his coat off in the close confines of the changing area. “You seem to think pretty well on your feet so far. Think you can get into character as a crime syndicate enforcer?”
He rolled his eyes. “So be myself. Got it. And they’re not going to recognize us why?”
“Because,” Sheri answered. “The likelihood that Ariadne owns everyone in the spaceport is slim. She’s too far away to maintain direct control. More likely she has a few high-placed people to redirect resources around. So, if anyone’s watching the ship, it’s likely to be low-end people who don’t know who the boss is looking for. It should be easy enough to waltz on in.”
He nodded. “Makes sense. What happens if you’re wrong?”
“If that happens? Start punching. Hopefully we can get inside the ship before people with guns show up.” She shot him a lopsided grin and headed toward the door to the landing fields. “You ready?”
Barr watched her with disbelief plain on his face. “Not remotely. This sounds like a terrible idea.”
Sheri pulled her hat down over her head and tugged on a respirator, hoping it hid enough of her face that she wouldn’t be recognized immediately. If she was honest, her story made sense in her head, but was largely guesswork. She was relying on her knowledge of other spaceports, other docks, and hoping the behaviors would translate over. Still, no point telling him that. She shot Barr another reckless grin. “When have I ever steered you wrong?”
RAYAN HAD SO MANY COMEBACKS to her comment. For the last year she’d been the thorn in his side that he’d alternately dreaded and looked forward to seeing on the docks at Nobu Station. She’d nearly crushed Darcy under an out-of-control cargo crate, and had clued
him in on a poker game so crooked he’d been lucky to escape with his skin. And that’s not counting the whole thing where she’d convinced him to help with a heist on the docks and landed the whole crew of the Sentinel on Ariadne’s most wanted list.
And yet, somewhere along the way his teasing had turned from antagonistic to affectionate. She’d winnowed her way under his skin as surely as an Adionan skin-worm. Though considerably less disgusting, she’d be every bit as painful to dislodge. Which she’d be likely to do once she’d seen his past. No one stayed long once they understood his brutality wasn’t a cloak he could take off or put on at will. It was as much a part of him as the blood he’d never wash off his soul.
“You got quiet, Big Guy.” Sheri slowed up so he could catch her. “You getting second thoughts?”
“I’m always quiet. You’re usually yammering on though, so you probably didn’t notice.”
She shoved him, a gesture as playful as it was ineffectual. He wrapped a hand around her wrist without thinking, and she twisted him into an armbar before he had the chance to blink. There was no force behind the hold, or rather just enough to remind him that she could have been a lot rougher. He growled his appreciation. “One of these days you’ll have to come down to the gym.”
“Why’s that?” She released his arm, and he rubbed his wrist absently. “You need me to spot your weights for you?”
He chuckled at the suggestion. “Or, if you’re more interested, we have a full sparring ring.”
“Seriously?” Her eyes lit up. “I knew the Sentinel’s setup had to be extreme because—” She gestured at his arms and chest. “But that’s an insane use of space.”
She was right, there were plenty of things they could have done with the space—cargo or additional hydroponics chief among them. Mira appreciated keeping her people in top physical form though, and the sparring ring had the added benefit of diffusing arguments among the crew. Folks tended to either sort out their issues, or in the case of him and Zion, step into the ring until things had been sorted.
They rounded the corner into the slip where the launch had been moored, and his positive mood collapsed. A half-dozen dock security were lounging around the entrance to the ship and perked up as soon as he and Sheri stepped into view.
She kept right on going, striding up to the security guys like she owned the place. Even muffled by the respirator, her voice was gruff and commanding. “Which of you is in charge? Get this damn ship open.”
The guards gaped at her, at each other, and at Rayan, but none of them moved to obey her order. After a few moments, one stepped forward, her face marred by old plasma-fire scars. “Why would we do that?”
“Because you all like your jobs, for starters.” Sheri glanced back at Rayan. “Can you believe this shit?”
He shrugged. “I could pull one apart, just as an object lesson. She said that might be necessary.” With luck they’d pick up the hint. At least some of the guards had to realize they were acting on the Spider Queen’s orders. Hopefully the insinuation would find fertile soil.
Sheri shook her head. “Not yet. But give it a moment.” She turned back to the guards. “C’mon, we’re on the same team here. We all got a job to do. You need to keep whoever owns this ship from getting on board, and I’m supposed to retrieve some kind of cargo crate out of the hold. The Lady on Nobu even sent one of her thugs along to collect it. Thing is, union rules say I gotta unload it.” She finished her speech by holding up her omni, dockworker’s licensure prominently displayed on the screen.
It was a good story, Rayan had to admit. It made sense, explained their presence. It probably even would have worked had another guard not shown up at that moment to announce that the targets had evaded the cordon, and to be on the lookout for a slightly built woman and a muscular thug. The newcomer let his words trail off as he moved his gaze from Rayan to Sheri.
Before anyone else could put it together, Sheri cracked the scar-faced guard across the jaw with her omnidevice, and chaos exploded. Two of the guards rushed Rayan, and he started swinging. Someone grabbed him from behind, and he stomped down, crushing an unprotected instep. Rayan’s assailant yowled and released him. A truncheon snapped into his elbow, and his hand went numb. He roared.
Sheri’s shock-glove crackled, the smell of singed cloth and ozone telling him that she had the charge set to maximum. It seemed fair. The guards certainly weren’t taking it easy. He grabbed a swinging arm and twisted it, the guard screaming as he dislocated the man’s shoulder.
“Barr! Get this thrice-damned door open!” She grunted in punctuation, and the crack of another stunner strike added desperation to her words.
He arm-locked the guard with the dislocation and swung him into another security officer, sending both tumbling down. “Aw, Mom. I’m busy playing!” A baton caught him in the ear, the crunch of crushed cartilage a complement to the stars that filled his vision. Rayan yelled in pain, spinning to tackle the other guard. Fists fell like hail, making sure the bastard wouldn’t get back up.
“You can waste time with your friends later! I’m ready to go home.” Despite the sounds of exertion, there was no mistaking the effervescence in Sheri’s voice. She was enjoying this. He couldn’t decide if he was turned on or terrified.
Scratch that. He knew exactly which one he was.
Rayan ran to the launch, taking the concrete steps two at a time, and tapped in his access code on the keypad. He’d barely hit enter when two guards joined him on the platform. Both of them had their batons out and had separated enough that attacking one would leave him open to the other. He feinted toward one then spun into the other, braced for the blow on his back that never came.
An ear-splitting trill, followed by a scream of alarm, announced that Darcy was out of the ship and had found a playmate. Rayan almost felt sorry for the guy. His first punch unsteadied the guard, and a quick shove sent him tumbling down the stairs. “Door’s open, Mom! Whenever you’re done socializing.”
Darcy fought to keep his purchase as the guard flailed about, his claws digging into the heavy cloth of the guard’s parka. In that sense, the man was lucky. Rayan had plenty of crescent-shaped scars in his skin from startling the goanna accidentally, and Darcy actually liked him.
Sheri’s shock-glove thundered again, and a moment later she was running up the steps. She scooped Darcy up with her free arm and gave the guard an unceremonious kick down the steps. Then they were through the door, and Rayan was slamming it shut behind them.
Her grin was somewhere between madness and ecstasy. “Get us fired up. It won’t take them long to get a hull-cracker over here.”
“Way ahead of you, Dockrat.” He’d left the ship in standby mode, half expecting they’d have to make a hasty exit, and it took only a few minutes to bring the power unit back online.
Sheri slumped into the seat next to him and buckled in, while Darcy curled in her lap. “I’ll need about fifteen minutes to get clearance from the aerospace traffic controller.”
Rayan paused and stared at her, thrown by the comment, then she started laughing. He joined in as he slapped the button for an emergency decoupling, and explosive bolts freed their ship from the dock. A flick of the engines and they were threading out toward the edge of the atmosphere and the freedom of space beyond.
Nine
Once it became apparent Hodur ATC wasn’t scrambling fighters to shoot them down, Sheri let out the breath she’d been holding. For whatever reason—resource shortages, strict orders from Ariadne, or any of dozens of unknowns—they were going to get away. Darcy squirmed in her arms, clearly eager to get back to the perch he’d occupied for their flight in. She eased him onto the platform, then hooked the small safety line to the harness around his shoulders, like she’d seen Barr do. It kept the lizard from drifting away when the launch went to microgravity, which would happen as soon as they’d left orbit on course for the Sentinel and could kill acceleration.
The adrenaline of the fight and their escape was starting
to ramp back down, leaving her with just the aftershocks of their escape. And lust. She could be that honest. It was too easy to let her mind drift back to the earlier moment in the car, and that memory left her mouth tingling to taste him again.
She glanced over at Barr, his fingers deft as he adjusted the controls on the launch, absently caressing switches and knobs in ways that had her already revved libido doing somersaults. Acting on her desires was the stupidest idea in the Three Systems. If Intelligence Command had questions about her judgment before, then they absolutely would if she shacked up with Barr.
Unless she could spin it as necessary to get information. Seduction was part of IntCom’s arsenal, after all. She could lie and say it was playing into his expectations.
Or she could admit, in this case, she didn’t give a shit what IntCom thought. She wanted Barr, and that was good enough.
As though he sensed the direction of her thoughts, Barr glanced over at her, eyes clouded with hungers of his own. Sheri didn’t care how bad the idea was. She unbuckled her restraints, silently hoping that they didn’t need to start emergency maneuvers, since she’d pinball around the cockpit until she broke something important. Like her neck. Fighting against the false gravity of thrust, she pulled herself out of the seat and crossed the cockpit to stand behind Barr’s chair. His shaved scalp was slightly rough beneath her palm, and he pressed his head back into her hand, eyes closed like a great cat.
She smiled. “Shouldn’t you be watching where we’re going?”
“We’ve been on autopilot for three full minutes.” He rotated the chair and tugged her toward him. Sheri straddled his lap as she fell forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. His grin, like his voice, was honeyed seduction. “It’s dangerous to not be strapped in during acceleration.”
“Oh, now you want me strapped down.” Her laugh banished the last shadows of her good sense. They’d have hours of monotonous travel getting back to the Sentinel. Things there would have to be different, but for these few hours, she could allow herself to indulge the fantasy. After all, lying was her stock and trade. Deceiving herself should be simple.