Page 44 of Hooded (Gladiators of the Gryn #5)
FERN
I’m fighting back the tears as I climb on board my ship. Beebie chitters with concern, running back and forth in front of me as I fire up the engines and prep for take-off.
I don’t know what I’m doing. I need to take a breath, think for a minute, not just rush after Klynn without thinking things through, but the longer this takes, the farther away he will be.
The port engine whines and shuts down as I flick on the incorrect starting sequence. I kick out at the console in front of me with a loud FUCK.
Beebie swarms up my legs, over my bump, and into my arms, shoving his squat head under my chin. He hums gently, almost like a cat’s purr, before his little blue tongue licks out at the tears running down my cheeks.
Tears Klynn hated to see. He’d hate them even more at this moment because they are for him.
I stroke down Beebie’s long sinuous back, and he increases his hum.
“I can’t lose him,” I say into his fur. “I can’t.”
The blind panic I felt dissipates.
“I won’t,” I add.
I wasn’t the greatest of bounty hunters, but I was one, once. I should be able to locate the Varangy ship, except it means having to connect back up to the systems which Markus also has access to.
Once I do, he will be able to contact me, and I can’t trust him.
Beebie squirms in my arms, leaps onto the console, and fires up the comm line.
“Beebs!” I exclaim as the thing springs to life and Markus’s face appears on the screen.
“?” He stares at me as if he’s seen a ghost.
“Markus,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he says.
“I doubt it,” I respond. “I was taken prisoner by the Tormelek after they attacked my ship, but then you know that, don’t you?” I raise my eyebrows at him, suddenly acutely aware of my pregnant status, on screen for everyone to see.
“I did not,” Markus blusters. “Our clients were adamant I track you down.”
“You didn’t do a good job.”
“Well.” He looks shifty. “That was until the DNA came back from the mark, and it turned out not to be the Denaver.”
“No, it was a Gryn.” I sigh. “My tech was damaged on Trefa. I picked up the wrong male.”
“I did try to find you, , I really did. You’re a good hunter. You’ve done better than most of my other hunters combined,” Markus says, eyeing my pregnancy bump with a confused look on his face.
“I have another mark,” I say, not entirely sure what to make of the weird compliment from a Habosu who would sell his own grandmother if he thought it would get him what he wanted. “I’m doing this one for myself and I need to use your systems.”
“Is it the Gryn?”
“No.”
“Good, Gryn are bad news. The word is an ancient species called Proto is looking for them, rounding up any single ones it can find. They’re using the Varangy.”—he leans to one side and spits at the name—“to get what they want.”
“I want the Varangy.”
Markus swears under his breath.
“You owe me, if you mean what you said. Even if you didn’t know about the Tormelek”—I narrow my eyes—“There’s no way we were simply unlucky enough to happen upon them.”
This has been a thought swirling in my head ever since Klynn mentioned we should maintain a low profile on Fenes, the backwater of all backwaters. He didn’t trust anyone and neither should I.
But not trusting Markus on this occasion could mean I don’t get any closer to the Varangy who have taken Klynn.
“I can give you access,” he says. “I wouldn’t deny you, . But you have to know, there’s a price on your head.”
“Mine? Why? Because of the client?”
Markus nods. “When they didn’t get their mark…they decided you’d deliberately let it go and you were in league with it somehow. The DNA evidence didn’t sway them.”
“Fucking great,” I murmur. “How long have I got?”
“No one from my agency will come after you, but the others…” He sighs. “They’ll probably pick up your engine signature in a couple of nova-days.”
“That’s all I need,” I say with a confidence I absolutely don’t feel.
“You have access.” Markus presses a few areas on his console, and lights on mine light up. “Tell me, . Do humans normally swell in different atmospheres?”
“Swell?”
He gazes at my bump.
“Markus, I’m pregnant. I’m with young.” I glare at him.
He makes a face I never expected, eyes wide, mouth a tiny O of surprise.
“You have bred?” His voice has also gone up a couple of octaves.
How in the galaxy is this such a shock?
“Yes, I have…bred. And I need to find the father.”
This time, his face resumes his usual mask of a Habosu in search of a credit.
“The father is the Gryn?”
“Not your business,” I say as I terminate the comm.
I don’t need to discuss anything with him, and he certainly isn’t going to be a godfather to my baby. Markus has his uses, and this is it.
I work quickly to download the information I need before cutting off any links which would allow him, or anyone, to track the ship.
I have a couple of nova-days to find Klynn, and I will find him. I might have been a pretty terrible bounty hunter, but this is one mark I can’t afford to lose.