Page 2 of Shielded Heart

The bokkan’s eyes widened, and, somehow, his rocky skin paled. “A-Alkorin the Forger?”

Arcanthus nodded. “Good. It’s too bad you seemed to lack any amount of intelligence when you sold out my clients. I do not appreciate my business being compromised. I would tell you to remember that, but…”

He shifted his thumb and flicked the credit chip high into the air. The bokkan looked up to follow the chip’s arc. In the same moment, Arcanthus opened the concealed compartment in his left forearm. The compartment launched the hilt of a hardlight blade into his waiting hand as he extended his arm. He activated the weapon before he’d fully closed his fingers around the grip. The blade—like a sword forged of translucent yellow crystal—formed instantly and pierced the bokkan’s neck.

Releasing a choked grunt, the bokkan informant lowered his eyes to look at the blade before meeting Arc’s gaze again.

Arcanthus lifted his right hand and caught the credit chip as it came back down. “Sorry. People like you simply don’t align with the ethics of my business.”

He deactivated the hardlight blade.

Blood oozed from the hair-thin wound on the bokkan’s throat. Arcanthus turned away, slipping the hilt back into its hiding place. He’d taken a few steps toward the end of the alley before the bokkan collapsed; thethumpof the body hitting the ground did not give him pause.

“You really just mention ethics while you had a blade in someone’s throat?” Drakkal asked from behind Arcanthus.

“What of it?”

“You’re irritable lately.”

Arcanthus stopped a few paces from the alley’s mouth. “I amnotirritable.”

Drakkal chuckled dryly but said nothing; it seemed to Arcanthus a sly means of having the final say without speaking.

Arc spun to face Drakkal. The frustration and stress of the last couple weeks bubbled to the surface, but as he looked into Drakkal’s green eyes—which glowed with reflected light from beyond the alley—those emotions subsided. None of this was the azhera’s fault.

“Shut up,” Arcanthus muttered as he turned and walked into the street, continuing toward the hovercar waiting a few blocks away.

“Problem’s solved,” Drakkal said, falling into place beside Arcanthus. “Leak is plugged. No need to stress.”

Arcanthus waved a hand dismissively. “There should never have been a problem in the first place. I’m sure the damage to my reputation has already been done.”

“You know the terran and her mate didn’t tell anyone what happened.”

“That’s not the point, Drak.”

“It is. And I won’t let you do this, Arc.”

“Andwhat, exactly, do you think it is I’m doing?” Arcanthus kicked a chunk of rusted scrap metal across the ground; his cybernetic limb registered the impact and relayed that information to his brain, but it was nothing likefeelingit for himself.

“Brood.”

“I am assuredlynotbrooding, Drakkal.”

“You’re whinier than a thirsty cub begging for its mother’s teat.”

Arching a brow, Arcanthus turned his head toward his companion. “Is that really what you’re going with?”

Drakkal shrugged his broad shoulders. “Being honest.”

“No, you’re not. You accuse me first of brooding, and then of whining. Which is it, exactly?”

“Both. You’ve beenoffsince dealing with that terran.”

Arcanthus sighed. “Would it hurt to lie once in a while, if only to raise my spirits?”

“Yeah. It’d hurtyou.”

“Couldn’t possibly be more painful than the bruises you constantly leave on my ego.”

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