Page 10

Jaz

Four days into the cargo transfer to the Stonehenge, I was a hurting unit .

When I wasn’t piloting the Stardrifter back and forth, I spent most of that time in my quarters. Because I felt like absolute crap.

I ached all over. Did I have a fever? As I tossed and turned, wild visions danced through my head. In them, a certain green-eyed Drake was featured with disturbing frequency. My subconscious had definitely developed an obsession with him.

On our sixth docking with the freighter, Yani finally brought a thermometer from the tiny medbay to confirm it was all fever-induced.

“It has to be the damned injection,” I complained. “What is it doing to me?”

“I have a cousin who is a tech in the breeding project,” she said. “But he never talks about his work. All he’s told me is that only a small percentage react. I guess you’re one of the lucky few.”

“Swell,” I said, and rolled over.

Yani left Sookie with me, before she headed off to swap stories with the on-board mechanics. The little hedgegopher purred like a cat as she curled up beside me.

When her owner returned to tell me it was time to head back down to the compound, I wasn’t quite as achy, but I was dizzy as hell. Yani’s orange eyes narrowed in concern as I staggered along the passageway to the bridge.

Fortunately, I’d been flying since I could reach the controls. It was so ingrained in me that even with bleary eyes and trembling fingers, I managed to fly the Stardrifter out of the Stonehenge’s landing bay.

I did, however, narrowly miss two workers standing near the antigrav shield controls. As they darted out of the way, I consoled myself that they could use the exercise, and a little ship exhaust wouldn’t kill them.

Not immediately, anyway.

It was a short trip down to the compound.

As the Stardrifter dropped beneath the clouds, the first thing I noticed was the landhopper off to one side of the paved surface we used for landing.

It wasn’t the rather disreputable version that Travis leased from the Drakes.

This one sparkled in the afternoon light.

The Drakes had come to visit. They did sometimes, when they had a special request for my brother.

But why did my heart suddenly accelerate?

I eased back on the throttle as Stardrifter lowered to about six feet off the ground in front of the hangar. Then, as the ship hovered, I pushed the stick forward, just a little, and she slipped inside.

The place seemed unusually quiet—I didn’t even see any activity around the other docked starhopper. Sphinx was aboard the Stonehenge while the cargo was transferred, but there should be men working on loading the Atlantis , and there wasn’t.

I lowered the ramp, and watched on the surveillance cameras as the workers that had gone to Stonehenge with us disembarked to end their shift.

Before they could get to the hangar office to clock out, they were met by Travis. He redirected them to the exit, and raised his hand to his ear.

My comm unit buzzed, and I debated not answering it. But he would only come looking for me, and be all the more difficult as a result.

Yani appeared at the bridge entrance as I answered.

“Princess Jazmin here.”

“I need you right away,” Travis snapped. He hated it when I called myself that.

I sighed. “I’m feeling lousy. Can it wait?”

“I don’t give a damn about how you are feeling. Get out here now.”

As Yani rolled her eyes, I just replied with a terse, “I’ll be there in a minute,” and signed off.

“I wonder what’s up,” my friend said as we walked through the ship to the ramp.

“Only the cosmos knows,” I groused. “Hey, is that a new hat?” This one positively pulsed with color, making my head throb.

She glanced at me, and raised a hairless brow. “No. I haven’t finished my new one yet. Had to rip a big chunk out, I screwed up.”

I squinted at it. Maybe it was her usual headgear, but I didn’t remember the colors being so bright. “Frogging. It’s called frogging.”

“I fail to see what your local amphibians have to do with it.”

“Rip, rip, rip,” I explained again. “Like ribbit, ribbit, the sound a frog makes.”

She shook her head, the logic of it once again escaping her. But I could swear that hat had color I’d never noticed before…

By the time we got to the hangar floor, she’d snagged a red parka from near the ramp, and Travis had disappeared into the office. When I got there, I froze in the doorway.

The landhopper had, indeed, brought Drakes. Two of them, to be precise.

My first, fever-crazed impression was of reddish-golden hair and brilliant emerald eyes, and my heart did an odd leap.

But then reality asserted itself—these Drakes had the dark hair, razor-sharp features, and clan tatts of the ruling Tazier.

Cloaked and most definitely not wearing Birkenstocks, their broad shoulders seemed to fill the available space as they loomed over my half-brother.

Despite my odd sense of disappointment, I found myself mesmerized by their hair—at first glance it was the usual black, but now I realized it had rainbows of reflection within it that I’d never noticed before.

Travis turned to me. “Senaik here wishes the Stardrifter to carry a special cargo to its destination.”

The one who appeared to have something rigid shoved up his ass was the likely ringleader, Senaik.

His severe features were locked into an arrogant expression, and he had the faintest traces of a scar running along one razor-sharp cheekbone.

He’d be considered handsome, if it weren’t for the cruelty in those metallic obsidian eyes.

Eyes that I refused to meet. Which led to a lot of scanning of arched eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, hair…

The glittering black eyes gave him a demonic air. I much preferred emerald.

Geez, where had that come from? I looked from them to my portly brother. “What kind of cargo?”

The tail of the taller of the two Drakes twitched as he responded, lifting the hem of his cloak.

“Myself and my companion will accompany you. The cargo itself is none of your concern. It will require that your ship be retrofitted at the underground spaceport before departure. It will not take more than a few hours to complete, and the cargo to be transferred.”

My eyes narrowed. The underground spaceport was a much seedier place than the main one on the upper tower of the Drake compound. It seemed like an unusual place to retrofit the ship. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“The destination will be set once we are in orbit,” Senaik stated.

My mind raced. A trip. To a mystery destination, carrying a mystery cargo. I exchanged a look with Yani. Traveling with Drakes would have its challenges. But we may have just had our escape opportunity handed to us.

“We will accompany you to the underground spaceport,” Senaik said.

“I have another crew member going with you,” Travis spoke hurriedly.

He didn’t look particularly pleased with this development.

The Drakes were likely not offering much compensation for using our services, considering that we were flying their ships.

I had little doubt he’d be volunteering to pilot the ship himself, except that Stonehenge’s trip represented a huge chunk of revenue for us. He’d not trust her to me.

My half-brother’s eyes met mine, and I got the distinct impression he had weighed that revenue against my value, and come up with a possible solution to meeting the Drakes’ request. With a sinking feeling, I knew who he was going to ask to accompany us.

An hour later, the supply staff had hurriedly stuffed the ship for our trip. As I wiped sweat from my brow and prepped the Stardrifter for takeoff, Kurt mounted the ramp with a duffle bag slung over one shoulder.

He peeked into the bridge with a sneer on his face.

“Consider this our honeymoon,” he said.

“I will not now, or ever, be honeymooning with you,” I snapped.

“We will see about that.” He smirked, and vanished again.

My lips formed a word that would have most certainly got me made into a public spectacle.

This wasn’t my first trip to the underground spaceport.

I’d been there a couple of times to receive specialized—and rather shady—Drakonian goods requiring a rapid courier. The Drakes used the upper port for most things, including when they required us to transport them somewhere. It was a bright and airy space with highly structured organization .

The underground one was another matter. Navigation to it was tricky—the entrance was built into the riverbank near the base of one of the clan towers. Three concrete-lined channels kept the swirling water at bay, but puddles lay everywhere, as if the river was trying to reclaim its lost territory.

Once the controller had given us our berth assignment, I guided the Stardrifter along the channels and into the dark, damp, and unwelcoming main bay.

As usual, there were things going on in the damp, drippy, and shadowy corners that were not to be examined too closely.

The docked ships were a mixed lot, but all of them were old, featuring a mishmash of borrowed and reclaimed parts.

Despite her age, Stardrifter was like a pearl among coal, and I sensed the stares of every shifty eye in the place.

The berth we’d been given was along one wall. After I set the ship down on the platform, the Drakes escorted Kurt, Yani, and I off it.

This port always gave me the creeps, and so did those hanging out in it.

Clusters of individuals lurked in the shadows, murmuring in low tones as they conducted less than pristine business, and I caught the acrid whiff of Brimstone smoke.

I spotted a few Drakes that didn’t sport the distinctive Tazier Clan tatts—no Raptors among them, I caught myself checking—but the majority of the clientele were visitors from other worlds.

As we followed the Drakes to the dock exit, I tried not to stare at the assortment of body forms—most were bipedal, but I did see one with four stumpy legs and another that had tentacles rather than limbs.