Silver Tongued Devils (18 page)

Red-hot fury boiled Yates’s blood.
With this payment, he’d have three months more running that mining
shithole before he could go freelance. “Blond, blue-eyed, purple
skinned, or horns. I don’t give a shit. Where’s my
money?”

An envelope was tossed on the table.
Yates opened it and made a point of counting the money in front of
Kellon.

It took only a moment for him to
realize there was a problem. If it was any other guy, he’d keep his
mouth shut. “This is too much.”

“It’s exactly enough.” Kellon braced
his elbows on the table and covered one fist with his palm. “You’ve
been a loyal servant to the Andovian Republic and your donations to
the war effort were a valiant necessity.”

A strange tick began in Shawn’s left
cheek, one of the only original human parts remaining in his
face.

“That being said, your illegal
smuggling operations have become a liability to our mission. Your
services have been terminated.” Kellon’s expression held no
emotion.

Fury clouded Yates’s gaze. He tried to
punch the smirk off Kellon’s face, but his arms didn’t
respond.

Panic hit him. It took a moment to
realize that it wasn’t anger making everything go dark. It was full
system shut down.

Shawn tried to blink, but his eyes
remained lodged open.

The bastard got up and walked around
to his side of the table. Yates struggled, desperate to fight him,
but his body refused to budge.

“What. You can’t—” He forced the words
through his lips. Breath came in short gasps.

Kellon leaned close. “No one else will
ever know you saw the pirate captain Anderson Na’varr aka the lost
Andovian Blood Prince Naesha Varrian on your mining colony. Your
men are already under our control.”

“Why—”

“Androgen Worth. Mikial Shorin.
Brandon Callwell.”

Yates swallowed down his panic. He’d
killed the traitors for not slaying Na’varr when they’d had the
chance. What did they—

“The men you killed before you came
here. Your men. They were important to my mission. You were just
the errand boy.”

System alarms went off in his mind as
organ failure alerts flashed across his vision. The body that
couldn’t die, was doing just that. “How?”

“Remote shutdown of your system.
Effective thirty six hours after the death of Callwell. It was your
shift supervisor’s final revenge for the murder of his son,
daughter-in-law, and grandson by your hands. Do you remember the
ship, King’s Revenge? It would have been fifteen years ago. Crew of
a dozen or so. Some women. A kid. That child was very important to
Callwell. It was his grandson.”

Shawn Yates wheezed out a laugh. Like
he could remember one brat in the thousands he’d taken out. Kill
‘em before they did him in was his motto.

“I didn’t think so. I’ll leave the
money here to cover the cost of your funeral expenses.”

His breath touched Yates’s ear.
“Unless the scavengers get to you first. I wonder if they’ll wait
for your death before pulling you apart.”

Kellon raised his hood and backed off
into the darkness where shadows began to move.

“What have we ‘ere?” A wheedling voice
asked.

“The cyborg, just like he said, mate.
I get the good eye. You take the arm.”

Yates cursed fluently in his head. And
then he screamed…for a very long time.

THE END

Who is the mysterious Kellon and what does he want with our
trio? Is he an enemy? A friend? We’ll find out July
16
^th
in
Devils’ Due
.

A Day in the Life of the Silver Tongued
Devils

By Dawn Montgomery

For Madeline: You called it every step
of the way.

For SuperChef: The coffee addict of my
dreams. Thank you for your hilarious contributions to this tale’s
plotting sessions.

Dear Readers,

When I started this journey with Brom,
Raesa, and Na’varr, I honestly had no idea I would get such a
wonderful response. Sometimes we write stories with no particular
audience in mind. The past few months have humbled me. You all have
made me the happiest author in the world (my heart has swelled to
the size of Alaska and Texas combined).

I thought it would be interesting to
take a slice out of each character’s day and show you what they go
through. The first one is Na’varr. I hope you enjoy The Slow Grind
as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Happy Reading,

Dawn Montgomery

0245, seven hours before
first dawn

Na’varr’s captain’s
quarters

Na’varr came awake to a subtle touch
on his bare forearm. Instinct took over. Without thought, he
reached for the laz blade snug under his pillow.

“It’s me, captain,” Brom
said quietly and Na’varr let go of the knife handle.

Years as a pirate captain had honed
his survival instincts. Anyone, at any time, could kill you while
you slept. Old habits died hard.

At the sound of Brom’s voice, the
naked woman curled against Na’varr murmured something in her sleep
and snuggled closer. Where Raesa’s body pressed into his, warmth
infused and drained him of the urge to wake up. Work could wait. He
cupped her ass and brought his-their-lover against his morning
erection. Hmmm...better.

Brom growled low and Na’varr’s lips
twitched. How long had his second in command been out of their
comfortable bed? With their sexy thief molded so tight against him,
it must have been a while. Brom’s body ran unusually hot, a side
effect of his genetic legacy as a cat/human splice.

“He’s contacted us. We need
to move now.” Brom’s voice held the tone he reserved for duty, much
different from the light hearted one he’d taken to using in their
late night love sessions with Raesa.

Of course the bastard had contacted
them. Four days was more than long enough to get the parts they
needed. The captain ran his hand up Raesa’s bare back with regret.
Waking her would be tragedy considering how little they’d actually
slept. He couldn’t resist the lingering kiss he placed on her
pouting lips. At the too brief contact, she sighed. The sound
reminded Na’varr of her sweet cries of pleasure. She had the
loveliest voice when she screamed his name.

He gently rolled her beneath him and
brushed a few stray locks of hair away from her face. He regretted
having to dye her hair while they were stranded and in hiding. She
was beautiful as a brunette, but he missed the hell out of her red
hair. The dusting of freckles on her nose gave Raesa a pixie
appearance. Fitting considering how his fiery little ship thief
kept him and Brom on their toes.

The strain of the past few weeks on
the run was apparent in the dark circles under her eyes. Laying low
on this backwater rock was taking its toll on them all. He brushed
his lips across her forehead with a silent promise to get them back
to their mercenary ship before any other insanity shook loose and
wrecked his time table any further.

“If you stay there any
longer,” Brom grumbled, “I’ll be joining you both.”

Time’s up.
Na’varr eased away from the sleeping woman and
grinned at the hybrid’s cranky comment.

“Don’t be jealous. You had
her yesterday while I was on watch. Very loudly, if I recall.” He
eased Raesa’s leg back under the covers.

Brom’s slow spreading smile
showed the gleam of fangs. “She’s a feisty hellcat.”

Her enthusiastic love for both men was
surprising. So was her willingness to deal with their weird hours
and deadly confrontations that came with the territory for
mercenaries.

“Come on, captain. Crime
waits for no man.”

Na’varr’s post sex high
vanished and he glared at the mug Brom held in his hand. “There had
better be coffee in that cup, the least you could do for waking me
up at this ungodly hour.”

“No time. It’s a stim
drink. He gave us an hour to get there and we’ll need to leave in
ten minutes to make it on time.”

Na’varr sighed and drew the
blanket up to Raesa’s chin. He moved off the bed before snatching
the robe Brom held out for him and dragged it on. One sleeve at a
time, he punched his arms into the armholes and knotted the sash.
“I’m really starting to hate this guy.”

Brom smirked and dropped his gaze to
their lover’s sleeping face. The hybrid stood close enough to touch
Raesa, but instead he simply stared at her as if he couldn’t look
away. Na’varr knew the feeling well. The captain took the rare
moment to observe his second in command. Brom wore a charcoal gray
full body suit that hugged his muscular body like a second
skin.

The specially made material of this
clothing hid the hybrid’s body heat. At the moment it was doing
very little to hide the level of excitement he sported. While Brom
had always enjoyed women, Na’varr couldn’t remember a time when the
former slave looked at one with so much contentment.

“Tell me you’re going to do
something about that.” Na’varr gestured toward the cat’s erection
and was rewarded with a scowl.

“Shut up and get ready.”
Brom shoved the mug against Na’varr’s chest and turned from Raesa
to stride across the room. The hybrid’s shoulders twitched in
agitation and Na’varr laughed.

“We need to get there
early.”

Na’varr’s good humor faded
and he arched an eyebrow at Brom’s serious tone. “Know something I
don’t?”

“He’s got a shady
reputation. Our recent situation has made me a little
edgy.”

A pang of guilt hit Na’varr before he
shoved it away. Coming out in the public eye as the lost prince had
thrust his hybrid friend in the spotlight. They’d made the choice
together, but it didn’t make the transition any easier.

“I’ll follow your lead on
this one.” He downed the stim drink in one bitter gulp. The acrid
taste destroyed the last bit of appetite he might have had. With a
smack of his lips, he handed the cup back to Brom and went to his
trunk. The hybrid set the cup down and went to their weapons
storage cabinet. “Do we want to perform as the pirate captain or
lost prince?”

“Pirate captain will get us
the best price.” Brom donned his usual assortment of knives and
weapons with bands around his ankles, thighs, and forearms. He
covered his arsenal in a black tunic and trous that hid everything
from view.

Na’varr shook his head.
Sometimes the cat got way into his job. “Pirate it is, then.” He
hauled out his leather tunic and overcoat. The scarlet emblem of
the Crimson Star stood stark against the dark black material. “Tell
me what we’re up against.”

Brom’s voice droned on in a
comprehensive briefing. Na’varr cracked a yawn and ached for the
taste of a really good cup of coffee. Despite the artificial surge
of energy hitting his system, he could feel the drudgery of a long
day ahead of him.

***

0330, six hours before the
first dawn

Outside the Naked Rooster
Fine Dining and Eatery

Na’varr eyed the neon sign promising
cheap food and glanced back to the vending machine he stood by.
Eerie sirens echoed in the distance. The back alley establishment
was on a poorly lit and damn near deserted stretch of
brick.

Not a soul stirred this late at night.
If a criminal element was active in this area, they were hiding it
well.

Fuck, I need a cup of
coffee.
The stim drink wouldn’t hold him
for much longer. The likelihood of finding a good cup of joe in the
Naked Rooster was unlikely. Vending machine it would have to be. He
inserted his credit chit in the slot and selected a double infinity
synthetic brew. From the corner of his eye, Na’varr kept the
entrance and side alley in his peripheral vision.

Brom melted from the shadows. His eyes
glowed in that strange feline way before reverting to their normal
color. The gray mask he used to cover the stripes on his face was
in place—a simple precaution to hide his true identity.

The cup was dispensed and
Na’varr’s mouth watered for one sip of scalding coffee. “What do we
know about this place?”

“He has shitty security, no
lookouts, and completely relies on cameras.” Brom’s disdain was
apparent. He lowered the cloth mask and flashed fangs with one of
his rare smiles. “Raesa would tear up the security in the place
before they knew what hit ‘em.”

Na’varr nodded his agreement. He
wondered if she was still asleep back at the ship? After all the
times he’s made her come with his mouth, fingers, and cock, she was
probably still in a sex coma. Of course she’d made sure he was just
as exhausted by the time they’d fallen into deep slumber. One he’d
like to return to as soon as possible.

The vending machine beeped and Na’varr
sighed. He grabbed the disposable cup and took a tentative sip. The
urge to spew the thick, gelatinous and grainy sludge that hit his
tongue was unavoidable. What the fuck was this? Partially
rehydrated horse piss?