Havoc (4 page)

"G'bye, princess.” He let her slip out the door, then laughed softly to himself when it shut. Elion would have his ass in a sling when he dropped this on him. Least he'd got a hot kiss and a copped feel out of it.

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"No, no, and no.” Without even looking at Kels, Elion shoveled his breakfast of eggs and cheese into his mouth. If he looked at his captain, he'd give in, and there was no way he would back down on this one.

"C'mon, El. At least wait till you meet her. She's quite a looker."

"You mentioned that already. Several times,” he said drily, risking a sideways glance. Kels sat beside him with his coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, his thick hair ruffled as if he'd just fallen out of bed—which was likely—his shirt open roguishly at the throat, and his eyes filled with stars. Elion knew that look. When it came to pretty girls, Kels's otherwise-keen brain took a dive into deep space. “If she's so fixed on hitching a ride, why isn't she here yet? It's past ten-hour."

But Kels had focused on something across the room, and Elion's stomach sank when Kels waved to the latest being to enter the noisy tin-walled cafe. Kels grinned at him. “Y'see? There she is, and it's exactly ten-hour, I'll have you know."

Elion grumbled and hunched over his meal. Duck eggs, again. Why had ducks had to prove so amenable to off-world breeding? What he wouldn't give for a fresh piece of fish. Or steak. Or tofu, to be honest. On their limited budget, it'd been nothing but duck for days. He turned, spork raised, to remind Kels of their farking financial state, but he'd already gone to greet this woman, this impoverished waif his softhearted captain truly needed to turn down.

Slouched, he watched as Kels embraced her. Yeah. She was a looker, as promised. Crack. Shiny ebony hair, naturally red lips—lush, of course—fetching eyes, and a body to kill for. He'd heard all about the skin suit she'd worn last night. Today she'd abandoned that in favor of sleek fawn leather pants, boots, and a tight-fitting green blouse that set off the forest tones of her eyes. Elion sighed. How could he compete with that?

Hand at her back, Kels herded her to the table. She grinned, and Elion's mood got a little more gravelly.

"Good morning, sir,” she said, smiling uncertainly, and held out her hand.

"Yeah.” He kept chewing and gave Kels a “you've got to be porking me” look.

Kels trumped that with a “mind your manners” glare, and Elion gave her a limp hand to shake.

"This is Sayal Iluma,” Kels said, pulling out a seat for their would-be passenger. “Sayal, this is—"

"Elion Andervaars, first mate,” she said, interrupting. “Former lieutenant of the five hundred forty-fourth squadron, Terran Armada, Omega system. Wounded in the Battle of Aleppo, discharged with full honors."

Kels dropped into the seat next to Sayal. “Told you she'd done her research."

Elion sighed and leaned back in the uncomfortable booth. “It's a little suspicious, isn't it? She knows so much about us, but we know nothing about her."

Kels quirked a shrug. “Not our business, if she's going to be a passenger."

"And a gamespartner.” Unsmiling, Elion arched a brow at the woman. “Want to elaborate on that, Ms. Iluma?"

"I believe that's business between your captain and me,” she replied, visibly cooling.

"If it involves my boss, it's my business too.” He jerked his thumb at Kels. “We're partners, get it?"

"In everything?” she asked, then took Kels's coffee and sipped from it, the bold brat. Elion felt unrighteous possessiveness rising in him. He'd never liked Keeva, and here came another one, elbowing her way right in. She wouldn't be easy to dump; he could see that right away.

"Sometimes,” he muttered, leaning forward on his elbows.

Kels raised his hands. “Okay, you two, ice it before you start a brawl. Not that I'm not flattered by two gorgeous people fighting over me, but this isn't the venue."

Elion was surprised at how hard his heart was beating. Something about this bird really set him off. “No need to get ruffled, Kels,” he said, spearing his spork into the greasy eggs. “But if she's got no iron and wants to fuck her way across the SenVerse, I was just wondering what I get out of the deal."

He heard her sharp intake of breath, a satisfying gasp, and focused on eating rather than smirking. By the saints, he couldn't remember disliking anyone so intensely from the start. It had to be the way Kels had oozed about her beauty, then practically plastered himself to her side. She wasn't worthy of him, or least off, she hadn't proved it yet.

Kels's tone was subzero. “If I say we take her, we take her."

Sayal shook her head. He saw the fringe of black hair dancing in the border of his vision. “No, Captain. If your first mate objects so strongly, then I cannot impose. It's true what he says. I have only a hundred bits to pay you with now, although a substantial fee would be given to you once we reach the Zone, and we would be winning prizes in the games, should we join as partners. I don't mean to...fuck my way, as he says, but that is part of the deal.” Her voice lowered to a sympathetic pitch clearly directed just at Elion. “I would not want to jeopardize your partnership. Or your friendship."

Midchew, Elion stared at her. Something about her tone hinted at more than her mere words. Did she know he'd been crushing on his captain for the past five years? Ever since the one drunken night in a tiny jail cell in Ivega when...well, when he'd been able to fool himself that maybe Kels felt something for him too. In the morning, when they'd sobered, Kels hadn't seemed to remember much of what had happened. Or had pretended not to.

Elion's heart had broken, but in retrospect, he knew it was for the best. They couldn't be captain and mate and also be lovers. It would get too tangled, and Elion valued Kels's friendship, as Sayal might have intuited, above all else. Besides, Kels had a voracious appetite for pretty female flesh, as evidenced by this bird gazing at him expectantly. Her lovely face gave away nothing. Either she was a very good con, or... He finished chewing and chased the eggs with cold coffee.

Kels said, “Just hear her out. You know I wanted to go to the Zone anyhow, and she has a plan for getting the
Nova
back."

"Mm, the venom buster."

"Yes,” she said, growing animated again. “A patch I've acquired. It will offset the jarouki toxin. Even if he plays poorly, he'll outlast his opponent and win by default."

"And when Ulvik sees Kels isn't sweating after a few stings, he'll... What? Let him walk away with the
Nova
?"

Sayal cradled Kels's coffee cup between her slender hands. “It won't be that obvious. The poison will affect him, just not as strongly. Perhaps you can fake it."

"Fake jarouki poisoning?” Kels grinned. “Not a problem. It's not like I haven't been through it more than a few times."

"Can't fake his hand, though,” Elion said. “What if he loses early, before he has the chance to put Ulvik under the table?"

Sayal's pretty lips tightened. “That is true, Captain. Do you feel confident you can win?"

"Against Ulvik?” He tapped the tabletop. “Odds are good."

He was posturing for his girl, Elion could see. Pointing his spork at him, Elion said, “And if you lose? What have we got to gamble with? It'll have to be something as valuable as the
Nova
, or Ulvik won't bite."

Kels rubbed his chin. “Mm, true.” He glanced at Sayal, who looked blank. He sucked air through his teeth and turned to Elion. “You know...there's one thing Ulvik's always wanted."

Crack and ruin... “No, Kels. Absolutely not."

"C'mon. I won't lose. Trust—"

"Don't start with that. I said no. I can't even believe you'd ask me."

"But I'll win, and we'll have the
Nova
back, and we can fly to the Zone, get our pay, and be back in business."

"Why's it have to be
my
ass on the line?"

Sayal glanced from him to Kels and back. “What? What's he going to put on the line?"

"His ass.” Kels gestured at Elion. “Literally. Ulvik's always wanted to fuck him."

Elion groaned and scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

Sayal said, “No, that's unacceptable. I couldn't allow you to take such a risk."

"Thank you,” Elion remarked.

"I wouldn't let it get that far,” Kels hedged. “We could drug Ulvik or something, make him think he'd got a piece of you.” He reached over and clapped a big hand on Elion's shoulder. “You think I'd let anyone violate my first mate? Least not without your permission."

He really could be insufferable sometimes. “Even Ulvik wouldn't see
my ass
"—he stressed the distasteful words—"in the same lane as the
Nova
. Be real."

"I don't know.” Kels took his coffee back from Sayal and finished it, like they were some old couple out for fifth-day brunch. “Not like he's done much with the ship ‘cept let her rot in his back lot. You and I both know he just wanted to humiliate me."

"He had his reasons,” Elion reminded him.

Kels pulled a face and waved him off. “How was I supposed to know she was his daughter? In any case, she came on to me."

Sayal watched this exchange wide-eyed. They lapsed into silence. Kels, Elion knew, waited for him to break, as he so often did. Oh, saints. Now he gave Elion the dew-puppy eyes, the look he couldn't resist.

"Stop looking at me that way,” he snapped.

"Like what?” Kels tipped his head, half-joking, half-pleading. It wouldn't work this time. Even the
Nova
wasn't worth risking a fuck with the scraggin’ inkman.

"Why don't you offer him
your
ass?” Elion suggested politely. “I've seen him give you a look or two. He's probably got quite an interesting dick, with all the inkwork he does."

"Maybe I will.” Kels shrugged.

From bad to worse. Elion sighed and scratched his fingers over his scalp.

"Truly,” Sayal cut in, “I don't mean to cause this friction between you. Believe me when I say this will be worth your while."

Elion said, “What's so important that you need to get to the high games, sweetheart? That's another thing. You need creds to gain invite. The high gamesmasters don't let just any bird or bloke into their Dome. It's exclusive. Very."

She withered in her seat. “I have reason to believe I will be admitted."

"Inside contact?” Kels asked hopefully.

She barely nodded.

"But why?” Elion pressed. “You still haven't given a reason. You could fuck out a living here or on the Rim. Anywhere's safer than the Zone, and I'm sure you'd have no trouble getting a partner."

Her gaze dropped. “I cannot answer that now. Only know that my goal demands I reach the high games. I promise, if there were any other way, I would not be here now."

"See?” Kels said, as if that explained it all.

Thinking with his other head again, apparently. He wanted to grab Kels and shake him. If Elion could see she lied, Kels could too. He couldn't be that smitten with her, not after one meeting. “I still say no."

Sayal pressed her hands together and looked at Kels. He frowned at her, then at Elion, but Elion knew, when push came to shove, Kels would respect his decision. Feeling vaguely guilty at having denied his captain his joy, Elion said, “Look, we don't know if this patch will work, and even if it does, there are too many other unanswered questions. Like whether you'll even mesh in the games.” He raised an eyebrow at them. “You haven't fucked yet, have you?"

Like scolded children, they shook their heads. “Then,” Elion continued, “we could go through all that bother and have you burn out in the arena."

Sayal reached across the table and touched her fingers to his wrist. “What if...” she began. “What if I give you the patch as a gift? If it works, you'll have your ship, and we move to the next level. Captain Havoc and I will do a test run in the Dome here, in the Dregs. If we do well, then will you at least consider my request?"

There was something in her gentle touch, in her soft voice, he had to admit. Even he was drawn in by her natural beauty. Not that he didn't like a woman on occasion, liked the difference between soft and hard bodies beneath him, over him...

A bit shocked, he realized his cock had stiffened. Saints—this was bad news all around. A woman like this could work them both into a froth. Still... “That doesn't ensure the sanctity of my ass,” he drawled, tipping his chin toward Kels. “And not even your dew-puppy eyes will get me to put that on the table, not for Ulvik."

Kels opened his mouth to answer, but Sayal cut him short. “I'll do it. I'll offer myself. If you lose, this Ulvik can have me for the night."

Kels reeled back. “The fuck you will."

She put her hand over his. Now she touched them both, as if unifying them. “I'm willing to do whatever it takes to reach the Zone. I cannot stress that enough, Captain Havoc."

"Well, I don't like it.” Leaving the hand she touched on the table, Kels rubbed the other on the back of his neck, scowling.

"Seems like a fair deal to me,” Elion said lightly, refusing to show that he was affected by her too and appalled. She couldn't have seen Ulvik, or she wouldn't have thrown that offer out so casually.

Sayal smiled, and Elion thought golden sunlight had impossibly beamed down on him in this dingy gray cafe. She said, “It's settled, then. When can you meet with Ulvik and arrange the game?"

Ulvik Tor was human, genetically at least, but he'd needled so much altered DNA beneath his skin that few would realize he wasn't some bizarre midlien slumming in the Dregs. In fact, he was one of the best inkmen in sentient space, something Kels explained to Sayal as the three of them walked the crowded passage to the old scrag's shop. “Keeva, my former gamespartner, had her best work done by him."

Sayal's forehead wrinkled. “Biolume. What is that exactly?"

"Bioluminescence,” Elion explained, bracing her other side. To Kels's assessing gaze, he seemed calmer, though he could tell his mate wasn't nearly as in tune with this job as he appeared. It was a worry.

Elion continued. “Inkmen take the DNA from deep-sea creatures, the cells that let them make light in the dark depths, and create tattoos with it. Really expensive."