In the Devil's Nebula (Phoenix Adventures #2) (24 page)

She pictured them now. Her oldest cousin,
Niklas would be in his study, hunched over a console studying some
sort of ancient historical record. He had astro-archeology running
through his blood. Her cousin Dathan and his wife, Eos would be
either arguing or locked in their bedroom. And the youngest of the
Phoenix Brothers, Zayn, was off-world. Spending his honeymoon with
his bride, Ria, amongst the waves of the beach resort world of
Duna.

Mal rubbed a hand between her breasts. A
year ago she’d never have guessed that two of her macho cousins
would be married. And so in love.

She sighed. Damn it, she envied them. She
was so happy for them but—she glanced around the salvage yard, at
the silent hulks of ships and engines—it underscored her own
aloneness.

“Phoenix.”

The gruff voice made her turn. The salvage
yard superintendent, Traxan was stomping toward her with his young
offsider, whose name she’d forgotten.

With a shake of her head, Mal threw off her
melancholy. She didn’t bother to hide her interest in the circular
metal implants visible on both men’s necks. The Centaxians
intrigued her as much as the scrap around her. Centax was a cyborg
planet. Man and machine, implants and enhancements to increase
strength, speed, brain function and who knew what else. Centaxians
had made enhancements a way of life.

“You finished deciding what you want?”
Traxan growled.

If Traxan were a starship, he’d be an old,
battered starfreighter. A Central Starships Lodestar, she decided.
The old model. Bulky looking, full of quirks, but always
reliable.

“Yep, Trax.” She held up the Sync. “Got the
list here. Hey, how’s your son?”

Traxan’s plain face softened for a second.
“He was accepted into the Xeon Academy here in Haxx. Starship
design. My wife’s proud as a Deltan hen. He’s also just received
his first enhancement.”

She knew enhancements were a source of pride
here. Most kids got their first around sixteen.
“Congratulations.”

Trax took the Sync from her and handed it to
the younger man without looking at it. “Laxon, get what Ms. Malin
wants loaded onto her ship. And make it quick.”

Malin watched the younger man’s face. It was
far less expressive than Traxan’s. But Laxon had far more implants
and if she wasn’t mistaken from his gait, possibly mechanical legs.
She’d heard that the more enhancements Centaxians had, the less
they felt. That all the tech dampened their emotions.

Mal shivered at the horrible thought. Maybe
once or twice, she’d wished for the ability to not feel, to numb
the pain and hurt. She’d had her heart trampled on more times than
she liked to admit but she knew she’d never give up feeling for
anything. Without the lows, you couldn’t have the highs life had to
offer.

She focused back on Laxon. If he were a
ship, he’d be a newer model freighter. No quirks for him. A
Lumbrian Cargomax, then. Touch the control and he’d do exactly what
was asked. As if to prove her right, Laxon spun without a word and
went to do his boss’ bidding.

“Trax, as always, it’s a pleasure doing
business with you. I’ll transfer the e-creds into your account
and—” she waggled her eyebrows “—have your man offload that sweet
like Argylian scoutship you wanted.”

Traxan’s lips quirked. “You know just how to
tempt a man, Ms. Malin.”

If only that were true. Her stomach turned
sour. How long had it been since she’d dated, let alone had a good
sweaty session between the sheets? She had zero ability to tempt a
man. Aston ‘son of a bitch’ Granger certainly wouldn’t agree with
Traxan. The charming, cheating salvage dealer had been only too
happy to cheat on her and then dump her. She’d thought he’d loved
her.

Boy, had she been wrong.

And before Aston, it had been Ben and before
him, Tarr. All of them had taken great pleasure in showing her just
how easy it was to walk away from her.

Mal squashed her thoughts. Hard and
ruthlessly. She wasn’t going to give Aston, or the others, another
wasted thought.

But Aston’s words echoed in her head.
A
man doesn’t want a woman with grease under her nails, Malin. No one
likes a woman who smells like starship fuel and whose wardrobe is
filled with coveralls.

Snotty bastard. She straightened.
Better
off without them, Mal
. She managed another smile for Trax, but
inside she wondered if she’d ever find a love like her parents had
shared. Her father had pined for his dead wife until the day he
died. Just once, Malin wanted to be the center of someone’s
universe.

“Trax, I—”

An explosion in the distance had them both
spinning. Mal saw a huge mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke rising
above the central part of Haxx.

Her pulse tripped. “What in stars’
name—?”

Trax was frowning. “An accident, maybe.”

Haxx was a beautiful city. Graceful towers
of glass and metal speared into the sky, wide at the bases and
tapering to points high in the sky. In between were the lower
academy buildings where the planet’s designers worked and trained
their apprentices. They were sprawling structures of gleaming white
with rounded metallic domes.

There was a roar as a formation of black
Infiltrators screamed overhead.

“Ms. Malin, something is very wrong. I think
you should get back to your ship—”

Another explosion. This one close.

The ground beneath them shook and Malin
grabbed onto the ruined ship beside her to stay on her feet.

Laser fire sounded close. Far too close.

Inside
the salvage yard.

“Go!” Trax yelled as he sprinted toward the
sounds of fighting.

Crap
. Mal spun and raced back toward
the small landing pad beside the salvage yard where her baby—a
Norian starfreighter she’d named the
Firebird
—was parked.
She ducked around the wrecks and engines, running as fast as she
could.

She was in good shape—she yanked parts off
ships, swung tools and lifted heavy things every day—but she heard
the distinctive sound of laser fire getting closer. And the deep
shouts of multiple men in a guttural language her lingual implant
didn’t recognize.

She stopped and pressed her back against the
rusting hull of a ship that had obviously been in the yard longer
than she’d been alive. Air sawed in and out of her lungs. What the
hell was going on? Centax was an orderly planet and they had Centax
Security.

Everyone in the galaxy had heard of the
lethal, emotionless CenSecs—heavily enhanced cyborgs, they were
said to be faster, stronger and more intelligent. The ultimate
fighters. No one was crazy enough to go up against CenSecs.

Okay, the laser fire had stopped.
Time to
get out of here.

She’d taken one step when she was jerked
backward.

Strong black-clad arms wrapped around her
and she was yanked back against a hard body.

Mal went wild. A childhood spent traveling
the galaxy with her father as he collected scrap meant her dad had
taught her to protect herself. She shoved an elbow back, which met
with a rock hard abdomen. She dropped her weight, twisting as she
did, trying to break his hold.

His arms were unyielding. He was strong. Too
strong.

“Be still.”

A quiet, lethal whisper that raised the
hairs on her arms. She opened her mouth to scream.

A gloved hand slammed over her mouth. She
twisted and struggled, but he dragged her back, inside the hulk of
the rusted ship. He pulled her down, his big body surrounding hers
to hold her still. He felt hot, far hotter than a regular man.

With his other hand, he pointed.

When she saw what he pointed at, she stopped
moving.

A huge man, a fricking giant, stalked into
view.

He was at least six foot eight with
shoulders as wide as a planet and legs like starship landing
struts. His skin was mottled with dark stripes that made her think
of the pelt of the hunting cats on Panthon Prime. His head was bald
and when he lifted his face, she saw strong features
and…
God
, fangs.

And he was...sniffing?

The man behind her loosened his grip on her
mouth. “Stay silent.” A near-soundless murmur against her ear.

The warmth of his breath made her shiver.
His other hand rested near her hip, two fingers touching her hip
bone. A touch that seared through her. She wasn’t sure if he was
ordering her or asking her, but when she nodded, he moved his hand
away.

Suddenly, the giant stiffened and let out a
sound caught between a yell and a roar. Then he looked right at
their hiding spot.

The man behind Mal went unearthly still. Her
heart thundered in her chest. They were going to die.

Then the man brushed past her and launched
himself at the giant. A lean black bullet moving so fast he was a
blur.

Mal gasped, helpless to do anything but
watch the deadly fight in front of her.

The man hit the giant with the force of a
falling meteor. He was tall but not as tall as the giant and far
leaner. There was no way he could match the giant.

But with a roar, the giant went down. And
the man was moving, somersaulting over the giant and landing back
on his feet.

He straightened and Mal finally got a good
look at him.

Holy Stars.
He was probably six foot
three with wide shoulders narrowing to lean hips. All encased in a
space-black uniform. The circular silver implant set in his temple
told her he was Centaxian.

But that face…he was gorgeous with sharp,
lean features set off by short black hair.

All his focus was on the giant pulling
himself to his feet, shaking his head. The Centaxian flexed his
gloved hands but was otherwise still.

The giant lowered his head and charged. The
Centaxian didn’t react.

“Move, damn you,” Mal muttered, clenching
her hands together.

At the last second, the man sidestepped and
the giant raced past. Then the Centaxian turned and the fight
started for real.

He was methodical. Kicks and hits landed
with precision and all of them hard and lethal. The giant
staggered, never finding his balance and never once getting a
direct hit on the man. Another enraged roar filled the air before
the giant charged again.

This time in her direction.

Mal held her breath. The giant slammed into
the hull of the starship, setting it rocking. Dust and shards of
metal rained down on her but she forced her quivering body to stay
still.

Dazed, the giant shook his head. If he
looked up, he’d see her.

Beyond her attacker, the Centaxian leaped
into the air, higher than any normal man should be able to. He
slammed down on the giant’s back.

He looked directly at her and their gazes
locked.

His eyes were concentric bands of emerald
green and burnished gold. Like nothing she’d ever seen before. Long
dark lashes ringed those amazing eyes.

But his beautiful face was blank. Empty of
everything. No emotion. Nothing.

Scarily emotionless.

He pressed a palm down on the giant’s neck
and then the green in the Centaxian’s eyes lit up and turned neon.
Like the lights on a cockpit control console.

She felt a rush of power fill the air. The
giant convulsed, his back arching, a groan of pain ripping from his
throat.

The Centaxian landed back on his feet,
bending his knees slightly to absorb the impact. He stared at the
giant without any expression. The giant collapsed and didn’t
move.

Then the Centaxian turned and headed in
Mal’s direction.

She stayed crouched where she was, panic
threatening. Why the hell did she feel more frightened now? The
Centaxian had saved her.

But he’d just taken out a giant warrior
without even breaking a sweat or showing a single emotion on his
aristocratic face.

Whatever enhancements he had, it was more
than just that deceptively simple silver at his temple.

Mal watched him come, barely realizing she’d
pulled her laser cutter off her belt. Her fingers clenched around
it.

The man stopped nearby. “Come out.”

His voice was even, calm, not giving
anything away. She watched him for a second and realized his eyes
were back to normal, the eerie green glow was gone.

Mal ducked out of the wreck and stood. She
saw the man’s gaze move to the laser cutter, then come back to her
face.

She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you.
Uh…I’m—”

“Malin Phoenix.”

Right. “You know who I am.”

“Yes.”

Chatty guy. “You ever speak more than two
words?”

“Yes.”

Mal wasn’t sure she believed him. “I was
here—”

“You have a salvage license for Centax.”

She realized he was accessing those records
at that very moment. Amazing. “You have me at a disadvantage. I
have no idea who you are.”

“Centax Security.”

A CenSec. A shiver snaked through her. She’d
already guessed as much but had secretly hoped it wasn’t true.

No one wanted to run into the galaxy’s
deadliest killers. “Do you have a name?”

A pause. “Yes.”

She waited, suppressed the frustration
bubbling in her chest. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Xander Saros.”

Xander. Yep, it suited him, he looked like a
Xander. “What the hell is going on?”

“A coup.”

“A coup?” Shock was a punch to her stomach.
“Who the hell would try and take over Centax?” And take on this
scary cyborg and the other CenSecs like him.

“No time for explanations. More like him—” a
nod at the dead giant “—will be on their way.”

“Right.” She didn’t want to face anymore
giants.

“Starfreighter.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Starfreighter. You have one.”

“Yes—”

“I need it.” He wrapped a hand around her
bicep and started pulling her toward the landing pads.