Shattered Soul (17 page)

Phemar gave a little jerk. “You are not insane, Reeka.”

“Damn.”

Fredrico gave a sudden little smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

The tension in the enclosed space had eased. Maybe that was because she wasn’t arguing, wasn’t screaming, wasn’t ranting or raving or... yes, going insh="s, goinane at the very idea of what was being proposed to her.

No, not proposed. Told to her. Expected of her.

Her chore.

“Fredrico will be taking care of you. He will be by your side as you become accustomed to the fortress and surroundings. If you need anything, or want to know anything, ask him.” The Overlord gestured and the silence disappeared to be filled once again with the screams and laughter from beyond the curtain.

Unable to turn her eyes to the spectacle beyond the curtain as it swished open once again, she looked at him. “You could stop this viciousness that goes on in your fortress.”

His smile was unadulterated depravity. “But I so enjoy it, warrior. This is my fortress, my laws, and these are my pleasures.”

It figured.

She stood up, Fredrico doing the same. Without another word he led her back through the curtain and into the corridor beyond. The sounds were still the same, and suddenly she just wanted to get back to the quietness of her room. Or out of the fortress. Somewhere, anywhere, that didn’t have the stench of blood and body, and sounded like a human massacre.

Rani turned to Fredrico. “Is there somewhere not like this?”

“Follow me.”

~ * ~

Outlaw Sector

Tyron

Tyron was a settlement on the outskirts of the Outlaw Sector, and its peacekeepers were alert for trouble. They also seemed to know Abra, but then, Ceri thought, no doubt many peacekeepers knew bounty hunters. Hunters got around a lot.

Abra insisted on getting her checked out with the local medic, who, he assured her, was a good medic, something not often found in the outskirts.

The medic was as abrasive as sand paper and as sour as vinegar. Middle-aged and lean, he poked and prodded at her until she’d finally had enough. Yanking the patches from her temple, Ceri tossed the leads down and proceeded to pull the patches from her upper chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Moresby barked out.

“Take a guess.” She yanked the patches off her thighs.

“I’m not finished my examination.”

“Too bad. I’m done with this.” She jumped off the examination table. “You’ve found nothing wrong in the tests you’ve run so far.”

“I’m not finished.”

“It’s been a damned half hour. Enough is enough.”

“Fine.” He gathered up the leads. “Walk outside and drop dead from some strange condition.”

“I don’t plan on doing so.” Crossing to the door, she yanked it open.

Abra looked up from where he sprawled on a sofa flicking through a disc of wanted posters on his handtronic. “Well?”

“Nothing wrong.” She shut the door behind her.

It opened almost immediately. “The tests so far show nothing,” Moresby announced with a glare up at Ceri. “But I haven’t finished.”

“So what are you doing out here?” Abra asked.

“I’m finished.” She strode paonthe strost him.

Moresby muttered something under his breath but she didn’t hear it as she walked out of the office and onto the veranda, the door swinging shut behind her.

Perched on the railing, Ricna observed her silently. She frowned at him

“All right?” he asked.

“Bloody perfect.”

“Ah.” He grinned a little, a sudden flash of white teeth in his tanned face.

Yes, Ceri could see why some of the settlement women flashed him appreciative looks as they walked past, but she couldn’t say his handsomeness made her heart patter. Looks weren’t everything.

Finding Rani was everything.

Abra came out of the door behind her. “Let’s go and get a meal, then. Stretch our legs and get some fresh air before we continue the journey.”

And ask some questions. Ceri looked around to find some of the locals gawking at her, and she frowned even more. Being the centre of attention was something she didn’t like.

Mentally shrugging off the annoyance, she followed Abra and Ricna down the veranda to the tavern. The noise and smell of ale rolled out, and it was comfortingly familiar. Taverns were places she was familiar with, and the source of a lot of rumours and truths. Good places to eat and find out information.

Vane, Nat and Jarvis were already eating and drinking, and they glanced up as Ceri, Abra and Ricna sat down with them.

“So.” Vane looked at Ceri. “Did Moresby find anything normal about you?”

“He thinks my problems are to do with you. Get rid of you and I’ll be fine.”

“I take that as a no, he laughed.”

Abra gave their order to the tavern wench, who winked at Ricna before she left.

Leaning back in the chair, Ceri let her gaze wander over the tavern patrons. This was the outskirts of the Outlaw Sector, there were bound to be a lot of unsavoury characters running around. She spotted someone slipping outside while furtively watching the hunters and gave a mental shake of her head.

Idiot. No one is going to hang around with bounty hunters around. I’ll have to come back later on my own and ask questions.

“Are we going to be here long?” she queried.

“I want to talk to Orde, the Head Peacekeeper,” Abra replied, his own sharp gaze scanning the tavern. “A couple of more hours, probably.”

That was all right. By then it would be dark.

Ceri thanked the tavern wench when she set a plate of food before her and started eating. Later she’d come back and see what information she could find.

~ * ~

Ricna and Jarvis had disappeared with some tavern wenches. Nat had left to spend some time with a couple of friends from another bounty hunter pack, and Abra and Vane went to meet with the Head Peacekeeper.

Ceri left the hunters’ ship and walked quickly through the docking bay and out into the streets. Sticking to the darker areas of the settlement, she soon found a dingy tavern that looked promising.

Entering, she went straight to the bartender. “I’m looking for information.”

He looked curiously at her. “You’re a Reeka and you’re travelli core trang with bounty hunters.”

“I know. Isn’t life strange?”

He looked back at the glass he was drying. “Can’t help you.”

“Really?”

“That’s right.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He shrugged.

Fine. There was another way. Reaching out quickly, she grabbed his shirt and yanked him halfway across the bar. Startled, he dropped the glass which fell to the floor and shattered.

Holding him down easily on the bar, despite his waving feet and pushing arms, Ceri drawled, “I said, I’m looking for information.”

Some of the patrons nearby went quiet.

“You’re... with... the hunters...” His face was going red.

“I travel with them. That doesn’t make me one of them.” She gave his shirt a jerk downwards, bringing his face closer to the bar. “Now, I’ll say this once more only. I need some information.”

He was scared all right. She could practically feel it. Scared was good. Fear often loosened tongues.

“Or am I going to have to belt the crap out of you?” she continued conversationally.

“I...” He sucked in a rasping breath.

It seemed fourteen years dimmed a lot of memories of the Reekas. It was time those memories were revived.

Straightening up, Ceri grabbed the bartender in both hands and hauled him straight over the bar. Holding him up easily, she brought him up on tiptoes and glared down at him. “I’ve been really patient, little man. I’m not known for being patient.”

“Then I suggest you put him down,” a voice growled behind her.

The bouncer. It figured.

“Sure,” she said, and turning, she thrust the bartender right into the bouncer.

They both went down with a curse.

And that’s when the two more bouncers appeared.

Ceri mentally cracked her knuckles and smiled. Hands on hips, she faced them and coolly looked them up and down. “Problem, gents?”

The bouncers were hard-eyed and built with a lot of muscle. Unimpressed, they looked her up and down in turn.

The tavern was silent now, every eye on the trio at the bar.

Wow, fourteen years did make a lot of difference in regards to respect. In the outskirts of the Outlaw Sector that wasn’t a good thing. Time to reinforce a few things, such as Reeka warriors weren’t to be messed with.

Stepping away from the bar, she stood with legs slightly spread, balancing her weight evenly. She arched one brow coolly. “Got a problem?”

“Not if you move along quietly.”

“Well, then we do have a problem.”

One of them started forward. “Right, you asked for it.”

She met him full force, one fist punching hard to his gut, sending him jack-knifing forward. As he came down, she slammed her knee into his jaw and sent him snapping back to land on the floor in an unconscious heap.

She crooked her finger at the other bouncer.

Lips curling back to reveal morobto revestly missing teeth, he pulled a heavy stick from his belt.

“Ohhh!” She shuddered. “I am so scared.”

A trickle of laughter went around the room.

“You’d want to be, bitch,” he snarled. “You’re not the legend you once were.”

“Dearie me. You’ve forgotten so soon. Time to remedy that.”

“You take him on, Reeka!” Someone in the crowd yelled. “Show him that the legend still lives!”

Time to trot the legend out.

The bouncer came swinging low, intent on cracking into her knees.

She swung around on one foot, lifting her other leg and feeling the heavy stick skim past her. Her spin was fast enough that as she came around, her knee smashed directly into the face of the bouncer as he lunged past her.

Blood spattered out and he fell to one knee, skidding on the floor as he clasped his hand to his broken nose. “You bitch!” he gasped.

“No.” Coming up behind him, Ceri bent down and grabbed a handful of his hair. Pulling his head back, she looked down into his bloodied face and said softly, “I’m Ceri of the Reekas, and I want a little information.”

For the first time, she saw a flicker in his eyes, a little flame of fear, and she smiled.

He fought down his fear. “I’ll kill you!”

Rolling her eyes in disgust, Ceri stood upright, slammed her boot into his back and shoved him down on the floor, pinning his struggling body easily with her weight. Looking around the silent room, she saw the grins, but she knew this wasn’t the end of it.

A Reeka was back in their midst after fourteen years. The older men and women looked at her with remembered respect, but the younger ones didn’t know her and they were keen to test the legend of the Reeka.

“Don’t be a fool,” she said mildly as a young man with an eye patch started to circle her.

Three more fell into step with him, surrounding her.

“You might be able to take on one man at a time, Reeka,” the young man sneered. “But how about four of us?”

“Sure.” She shrugged.

And exploded into action.

Reaching down, she hauled the bouncer to his feet and hurled him at two of the circling men. Grabbing the stick from his hand as he went flying, she turned and flung it hard, not waiting to see it smash into the third youth’s mouth.

Yanking a long-bladed dagger from his belt, the young man ran straight for her. The light gleamed from the deadly blade as it arced through the air.

Ceri met him head on, catching his wrist with one hand, swinging around and dropping to one knee. He sailed over her head, but as soon as he hit the floor, she caught his ankle and dragged him back towards the bar.

He was kicking out, twisting onto his back and brandishing the dagger as his friend with the bloodied mouth got to his feet and swayed.

Kicking the dagger from his hand, Ceri slammed her boot into his gut, knocking the breath from him.

The bloody-mouthed youth came at her.

He really was a fool.

Reaching back with one hand, she waited until he was almost upon her, and theSuher, ann she tightened her grip on the bottle at her back and swung it up, over, and down onto his head with force. The bottle shattered and the youth dropped like a stone.

The two youths had struggled out from under the groaning bouncer and both came at her, their intent to pin her against the bar plain to see.

Time to stop playing nice.

Snatching up the knife that had dropped at her feet, she flicked it once in the air, caught the handle, and waited the few seconds it took for the first youth to almost slam into her.

Catching his wrist, she was prepared for his other fist that came lashing for her chin. Jerking back her head, she spun, pulling the youth partly around with her. Slamming his hand back against the bar, she plunged the dagger through his palm, pinning him to the bar in one easy move.

He screamed and fainted.

They just didn’t make tough youths like they used to.

The other youth was at her back within seconds, she could feel his hot breath on her shoulder, and without a qualm she slammed her head back against his. While he was still dazed, she stepped sideways while reaching back, her hand grabbing the back of his head as she bent her knees and slid sideways once more to slam his face into the bar.

While he was still stunned, she grabbed the back of his shirt and pants, picked him up with barely a grunt, and threw him across the bar.

Lifting her gaze to the dirty mirror behind the bar, she scanned the faces of the watchers.

The older patrons grinned, the younger ones looked at her with a new respect.

She said quietly, “I’m after some information.”

A murmur swept the room, and then one woman stepped forward. Older, wiser, she was a tavern whore. Walking behind the bar, she poured a mug of ale for herself and quirked a brow questioningly at Ceri.

“Berry juice,” Ceri replied.

She studied the woman while she poured the drink and pushed it across the bar. Middle-aged, she still retained the good looks of her younger days. Her upswept hair was threaded with grey, but her eyes were sharp.