Page 16 of Stars in Mist

What she saw was a grizzled, bearded Galician miner with blue-black locks. His irises navy, his complexion dark like a desert nomad, his space suit rugged and worn.

Nothing like the man she’d once called her lover. Nor the groom she’d jilted at the altar.

The thought triggered his anguish, and he wanted to shout, scream, and rage at her.Why did you love me then leave me - without saying why?

Instead, he battled his soul and faked a glower.

‘Who are you?’

He jerked at her husky articulation, which sent bliss coursing through his veins, and took a harsh drag of air to restrain himself.

‘Who areyou?’ he countered in a whisper, even though he’d everyfokkin’ grip of what the response needed to be.

She cocked her head at his voice, reacting to his slight inflections and accented tones that he couldn’t conceal. He sighed in relief when there was no recognition in her single eye.

‘Someone who wants to know why you’ve been searching for me across the badlands, Galician.’

So she’d figured out his fake race but not his true identity.

His camouflage was holding up to scrutiny.

‘Says who?’ he drawled, with a twist to his lips.

‘Say all my contacts who tell me you’ve asked for me at all stops between here and the edge of the Sarisian jump point. Which is a vast region of space.’

He held his tongue, still reeling.

She tossed the knife and caught it in a perfect arc. ‘Did he send you?’

He raised a brow, his heart lurching. ‘He?’

Her mouth turned up in disdain. ‘Noab. Noab Hakim.’

Riv furrowed his forehead. ‘I’ve never come across him.’

Indeed, he hadn’t.

She huffed. ‘Everyone the breadth of the outer rim has, and if you haven’t, you’ve not operated in this backwater of Pegasi. Who are you, stranger, in a poor miner’s disguise?’

Little did she know.

He took his time replying, and impatience bloomed in her eye as she twirled her blade as if ready to toss it straight at his throat.

He’d deflect, of course, if she tried.

However, that would reveal he was a meta and, by virtue, an Edenite, which would give too much away before he was primed for their true encounter.

For now, he needed to appease her and find a way of gaining her trust.

‘You got me. The miner’s suit was a diversion, a pitiful one at that. I’m a bounty hunter, a mediocre dabbler in the art, given you captured me.’

‘Someone sent you after me?’

He nodded. ‘A contract.’

Her voice sharpened. ‘Who signed off on it?’

He shrugged. ‘I receive my hustles via an incognito comm message from my anonymous handler. All I got was a holo of your face and a possible search area. I got paid fifty per cent upfront -.’

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