Page 32 of The Rebel and the Rogue

His hand moved gently up and down my back, lingered on the marks I knew created a patchwork of history and pain. That were made by the enemy. That made me the enemy, in a way. That made me more rogue than he could deal with. He caressed me like I was a fragile kitten, and my body purred. It was impossible to resist, and because of it I was doomed. I sank into his heat, taking what I could get while I could get it, and I slept.

11

Zenos, Twelve Hours Later

“Are you well?” I asked.

“I’m fine.” Ivy walked beside me, her silence a mystery I had been unable to unravel since she’d woken in my arms. I had held her for long hours and stared at the ceiling as she slept, waited for the knock I knew would come to my door.

Jillela would deliver Ivy’s message, I had no doubt. I’d seen the fear in Jillela’s eyes, knew she was more afraid of Ivy than anything before. Perhaps she was even more afraid of her than Cerberus himself.

Astra would hear of what had happened, of the dead we’d left behind. I was not worried that my leader would chastise us. Ivy was a weapon of mass destruction that currently belonged to her. She would be pleased.

Cerberus alone was responsible for anything that went on in his territory, even a female destroyer. I had been acting alone. As a rebel. As a bounty hunter in league with Ivy. It may not have been known Gerian Eozara had a large bounty on his head before, but after last night, after what Ivy had done all on her own, everyone on the moon base, regardless of legion, now knew. Gerian Eozara was a wanted man.

Ivy would not be the last to come looking for him. Fuck that. Once word spread, there would be unmarked members of every legion taking their shot.

The bounty was exceptional. That kind of money bought ships—and not the decades-old, battle-scarred Coalition Fleet ships that had seen better days. One could purchase a new ship, with the newest and deadliest weapons. Cloaking technology. Speed. The kind of ship that could create a mini empire on Rogue 5. Gerian’s days were numbered. And while Cerberus might not hand him over to an enemy, their legion would not be excited about keeping him around either. His own people would want him dead for financial gain.

Soon Gerian would be one of two things—dead or long gone, assigned to a job somewhere else so the flow of bounty hunters seeking a big payday would stop. The last thing Cerberus wanted was strangers snooping around his legion causing trouble. Especially strangers like Ivy.

Ivy was the first, but she wouldn’t be the last, and she’d made one hell of a mess.

Cerberus was a mean fucking bastard. He was not stupid. He would not welcome more attention, more bounty hunters or challenges from the others on Rogue 5 eager to collect on the bounty. Cerberus would act, and soon. Very soon.

We walked to the meeting hall, escorted by Barek. He walked in front of us, Ivy in the middle, and I watched her back. It was instinct, and I didn’t ever want to be anywhere else. After the night before and what she’d done, I had to wonder if she needed me. She was so fucking self-sufficient, so brave and strong. She could handle anything. Yet I wasn’t going anywhere.

“What’s going on, Barek?” she asked.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, saying nothing, his rumble of displeasure did not improve my mood. Not with Ivy refusing to talk to me. I had believed I understood the meaning of her word fine, but she was not acting in accordance with the definition in my mind. Perhaps I needed to have my NPU checked to make sure the translation function worked well with Earth languages.

Physically she was fine. I’d run my hands over every inch of her as we’d fucked in the shower tube and later in bed. But females were complicated creatures. A few orgasms wouldn’t solve their problems. They didn’t have balls to empty, to lull the mind and sate the body.

They were complex, and Ivy was no exception.

Ivy appeared to be as impatient as I for an answer. “Did Cerberus send word?” she asked, pushing him.

“You two made a fucking mess, you know that?” Barek snapped, shaking his head. Ah, word had spread.

Ivy shrugged as if Barek’s words meant nothing. I could not hold my tongue.

“We were not wearing Astra’s colors.” As if that made the destruction she’d caused any better.

“That is why you are not dead.” Barek led us down a small corridor to a secured meeting area I’d seen many times before. Astra used the room for discussi

ons with sensitive clients or high-ranking members of the other legions when discretion was required. The room held no more than ten, and the walls were insulated and scanned daily. No one would overhear. No sound spilled through the walls, and there were several tunnels into and out of the meeting space. Anyone brought inside was blindfolded and searched prior to entry so they would not attempt to find their way back again.

I’d once led a Siren messenger up and down the same hallways for over an hour to make sure he was well and truly lost prior to a meeting.

Some died within the walls, their screams did not escape. They entered alive, exited dead and were never seen or heard of again. I didn’t think we were walking to our deaths, but it was possible Astra wanted to rid her legion of Ivy. And myself, because I would die first.

The door slid open, and we followed Barek into the room to find Astra already seated at one end of a long table, Rhord and Nev behind her.

I paused in the doorway, took in the rest of the inhabitants.

Sitting at the other end of the table was Cerberus himself, Jillela standing behind him with another member of the legion a few paces back. They all seemed healthy and whole, meaning they’d either spent the time since we’d seen them last in a ReGen pod or had made liberal use of a wand. And at his feet? A male I assumed was Gerian Eozara, handcuffed and on his knees. Bloodied, possibly stunned into submission.

A gift. The offering Ivy had been waiting for.

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