Page 1 of Ruin

Chapter 1

The first rule of being an assassin was to avoid unnecessary killing while on an assignment.

But damn if he wasn’t real tempted to unnecessarily murder the fuck outta the drunkUrianwho’d just drenched him in some particularly foul-smelling brew.

That it’d happened because the male was preoccupied chasing and, unless he was mistaken, trying to eat one of the small, quadruped, very much sapientTiktiks, made the urge that much harder to fight.

It wasn’t that Ruin particularly liked Tiktiks, but he had a thing about eating sapient beings.

Pulling in a slow, calming breath, he removed his hand from one of his hidden blades and settled for discreetly kicking one of the Urian’s many frail ankles, then deftly sidestepped as he promptly collapsed into a squealing pile on the ground.

Unsurprisingly, no one in the crowded thoroughfare tried to help him.

Lips curling in satisfaction, Ruin continued onward, navigating through the press of bodies.

This level ofSkeldra Spaceportwas a maze of towering, dilapidated buildings connected by criss-crossing wires, dark alleyways, and even darker souls. The flickering glow of neon signs, advertising wares and services most planets deemed illegal, cast it all in garish light.

Despite being excessively familiar with such places, Ruin still felt a twinge of disgust at the depravity surrounding him. The air was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies, smoke from a variety of substances, and a pervasive odor of decay from being located right above the bio-energy convertors.

It teemed with beings of every imaginable size, shape, and color, making the expansive corridors feel cramped. The ceaseless din of overlapping conversations, yelling merchants, and music set his teeth on edge.

Finally reaching his destination, he stepped past the tattered curtain and into the bar. Shadows cloaked every corner. The air reeked of sweat, cheap alcohol, and desperation.

Assessing the patrons as he strode between tables, Ruin picked a booth in the back where he'd be cloaked in darkness and waited for his contact.

A few minutes later, he spotted his informant enter—aRodianmale with a greasy coat and beady eyes.

Sliding into the booth opposite him, the male offered a sideways tilt of his head—both a greeting and an acknowledgement of Ruin’s dominance, as was customary among Rodians.

Responding with the expected reply, Ruin bared fang and laid his right hand, palm up, on the table.

Niceties done, he prompted, “Talk.”

The Rodian leaned in conspiratorially. "Your target—Gaius from the Onyx Corp? Got a real nice setup waitin' for 'im on Level 18. He's scheduled to dock in four day’s time to meet some trader."

Narrowing his eyes, he analyzed every twitch and micro-expression to ensure the male spoke truthfully as he provided details about Gaius' security team, his private ship, and expected length of stay.

"That all?" he rumbled once the Rodian fell silent.

The informant nodded rapidly. "Everythin’ I know. I don't cross noLurianassassins."

With a dubious grunt, Ruin slid a cred-stick across the chipped surface of the table. The Rodian snatched it up, tucked it somewhere outta sight, then quickly exited the bar.

Ruin waited a few minutes, then started to stand, ready to get the fuck off this level and away from its stench, when a commotion at the entrance of the bar caught his attention and froze him in place.

A slick-skinnedMogovianswayed in, mottled tentacles slithering across the filthy floor. Following behind the male was an entourage of half a dozen. Lackeys, by the look of them. Couple bodyguards armed with fairly new bio-plasma pistols.

But it was the figure bringing up the rear that held all his attention.

Female, and human, unless he was mistaken. A rare sight on theOuter Rim.

Ruin's gaze remained locked on the petite female being roughly hauled in on a leash held by one of the Mogovian's tentacles, struggling to keep up with his uneven gait.

Her clothes were tattered rags, exposing the bruises and scars marring her pale flesh. Her face was streaked with grime and her long, pale blonde hair hung in matted strands, obscuring her features.

Despite her pitiful condition, she moved with a quiet grace. Soft green eyes gleamed behind the curtain of her hair, and a small, dreamy smile curled her lips, as though she were seeing something other than the shitty bar.

As the Mogovian swayed to a stop at a table in the center, he yanked hard on the leash, sending the female falling to her knees. Her wince was there and gone before Ruin was even sure he'd witnessed it. But it was enough to erase that dreamy look, instantly bringing her back to the present and the miserable circumstances in which she found herself.

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