The woman’s mouth tightened. She had very expressive eyes. In them, it was very easy to see every detail of his painful demise, should she get her hands on him.
“Am I right, Eston?” Gann prompted.
The cloaker’s mouth slid into a winning smile, revealing teeth that were surprisingly white and straight. “I told the truth. TheVashwoman did go off planet,” he said. “For ten thousand credits more, I might know exactly how you can find her.”
Chapter Seven
While Tee atebreakfast and the crew prepared for the flight, Ian climbed down to the cargo hold, his place of choice when he needed to think.
“Lights,” he said. Held by a protective brace for space travel, his vintage 1990 Harley-Davidson Soft-tail glinted in the crisp illumination. He wheeled the hog to the rear of the hold where he stored his tools, then tried to lose himself in the mindless tasks of tinkering, tightening, and polishing.
You should have let her go, gotten yourself another pilot.
Yeah, but he also needed to follow Randall.
Now he was stuck with a pilot with a shaky past when he most required reliability in his crew and the ability to stay focused on his mission. He had gone to Tee’s quarters fully intending to tell her that her position was temporary, that he intended to let hergo as soon as he found another flyer. But somehow she had plowed him under; that crazy mix of bravado, naiveté, and grace under fire she exuded, it had totally snowed him. He had stood there like a moron and let her wheedle him into letting her keep her job long-term. It wasn’t like the dependable Ian that everyone back home knew— the responsible son, the summa cum laude finance major, the guy his sister called Mr. Goody-two-shoes.
The pilot didn’t have a clue as to her effect on him—which was a good thing, because he hadn’t figured it out himself. No woman had ever affected him this way.
It was a moot point, anyway. It wasn’t as if he could have any relationship with this girl. Not only was she his pilot, but she had a shaky history and was a non-royal—and hisVashopponents in the Great Council were watching his every move, waiting for him to make just one misstep. No, Ian would marry the woman chosen for him. That was all he could do. He owed that much to Rom and his mother.
As for his attraction to Tee, it was likely tied in to theVashbelief that certain people had a mental and emotional affinity of thought. When such people paired up, their thoughts resonated, creating an immediate and powerful attraction. Which pretty much described what he felt with Tee. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way she smelled, the feel of herskin, the way she moved, her humor, and quick mind—the whole package.
Lust; that was all it was.
His lips drew tight over his clenched teeth. He had long prided himself on his ability to control his sexual urges. Sure he had them, had a lot of them. He had slept with his share of women but always within the context of a relationship, never as a mindless fling or one-night stand. It wasn’t easy taking that route; in fact, it had damned near killed him a couple of times, but he had dedicated his life to being everything his biological father was not. He had been celibate for over five years now. Within the teachings of theVash Nadahhe had found the strength and guidance he needed to hold himself to his own high standards. Which was why this fascination with the pixie was as startling to him as it was inappropriate.
He opened a storage shelf and looked for a can of motor oil while his thoughts reeled back to his childhood in Arizona. He had grown up watching his mother deal with his father’s adultery. Whether Jas’s loyalty went too far, or she had ignored much of her husband’s behavior to keep the family intact, Ian could only guess. But by the time he reached manhood, he had concluded that only those with despicably weak characters let testosterone guide their actions.
He shoved an opener into a can of oil, releasing a spray of viscous brown liquid.Great.Frowning, he grabbed a rag, wiped his hands, and slam-dunkedthe rag into the sterilizer. Maybe the pilot would prove herself undependable, like her predecessors. Dereliction of duty would make it easier to dismiss her…unless her pursuers solved his problem and got to her first.
Gann laidfive thousand credits on the cloaker’s desk. “Tell me where the woman went,” he said. “And with whom.” As he added the remaining five thousand, he saw Lara staring in amazement at the prodigious stack of credits now on the table.
Eston was much more at ease. “I saw her sharing drinks with an Earth-dweller at old Garjha’s bar. Then she went off with the man.”
“Tell me about the Earth-dweller,” Gann said.
“Young fellow. Odd-colored hair.” Eston grimaced. “Dark brown, like so many of them have. In case you’re wondering, he didn’t file destination coordinates with the port controller. I wish he had. Your littleVashowes me for my troubles; I’d have liked to know where she was headed.”
Gann mulled that over. “By now the ship could be anywhere.”
Eston smiled. “You’ll need a tracker to find them.”
Gann contemplated the cloaker. What the man said regarding hiring a tracker was true. He hadn’t been in the frontier in years and not this far out for years beyond that. He needed someone who knew the territory. “I’m willing to pay good wages. If thehunt is successful, I’ll throw in a bonus. Do you have someone in mind, someone good?”
Eston smiled triumphantly. “She’s the best there is.”
At the same time, it dawned on Gann, the woman in question realized whom Eston meant. She made a small choking noise. Her hand opened, releasing the tent flap she had been holding in hopes that Gann would leave. “Eston,” she said in a hiss. “What are you doing?”
The man crossed the tent and took her by the hand, steering her to a private corner but not out of Gann’s hearing range. “Lara, your ship’s impounded. I don’t have enough to get her out—even with what theVashgave me. If you want your ship back, go with theVashon his.”
Something akin to fear quenched the fire in her golden brown eyes. “Go to hell.”
Gann turned his back on the pair as they continued to argue in hushed tones. The pot of tockin the corner was nearly full. But he decided against pouring himself a cup. The couple obviously had few supplies left in the wake of the stiff fines they paid for cloaking a stolen Dar starspeeder. He decided to wait in silence.
Finally, Eston pushed the sullen woman toward him. “Lara Ros, master tracker. She’ll take you where you need to go.”
The woman’s eyes were steely and cold. “I ain’t going for the fun of it,Vash. Only to be able to recover my ship.” Hervoice caught on the word, as if that ship meant more to her than any person. “My bonus will equal the fine I’ll have to pay.”