Page 13 of Born of Vengeance


  "Just one." Technically true since Jullien was only half-blooded and while Unira and Vasili were Andarions, the Fyreblood race was vastly different from the Ixurians--which was what those with dark hair and skin would be considered. "Nasty-tempered bastard, but damn good in a fight." He cast an amused grin at Hauk. "Now that I think about it, he looks a lot like you."

  "Yeah, well, we all look alike."

  Bastien rolled his eyes at the bad stereotype that Andarions used against all humans, and it definitely didn't apply to him. "Wouldn't know. He's the only Andarion"--full-blooded Ixurian, anyway--"I've been this close to, besides you. Come to think of it, his name's also Hauk. Only it's his last name."

  Hauk narrowed his gaze as if he was one breath from attacking. "Friend or foe?"

  "Good friend, so if you plan to shit-talk him, you better be ready to draw again and shoot when you do so."

  This time, Hauk grinned wide enough to expose razor-sharp fangs. "I never shit-talk Fain behind his back. Only to his face. Otherwise, big brother would kick my ass."

  Bastien went slack-jawed as he instantly knew exactly who this was--and it was a damn good thing he hadn't brought up Jullien's name, since this particular Andarion had his grudge against his cousin. "You Dancer?"

  He inclined his head to him. "I'm Dancer."

  "Well, I'll be damned. Small fucking universe. The way Fain talked about you, I thought you'd be the size and age of the kid you're with. Had no idea you were so close to his age and build." Bastien held his arm out to him. At a distance that let Dancer know he really was familiar with Andarions and their culture. "I owe Fain my life. You need a point or anchor, any time, I'm yours."

  Dancer shook his arm. "How you know my brother?"

  "He used to live in my neighborhood on Kirovar. We worked out at the same gym. I was the only one who'd spar with him. After a while, we ended up as drinking buddies."

  Dancer nodded. "So you must know his first mate, Durden."

  Grimacing, Bastien shook his head. "Never heard him mention a Durden. Didn't know he had any friends, to be honest. Not that he ever talked much, but when he did, you're the only one he ever really talked about." He paused as he realized what Hauk had just done, then smirked. "So did I pass?"

  "Pass what?"

  "Your test to see if I'm really a friend of Fain's. Not that I blame you. Don't trust strangers as a rule, either. But I do know Fain. I even know you have burn scars on your back from a childhood accident he blames himself for. And that his ex-wife was named Omira Antaxes."

  Hauk let out a slow, audible breath. "He must have been drunker than hell to tell you that."

  Bastien rubbed at his neck. "Yeah. It was on what would have been their tenth anniversary. He didn't handle it well. He even told me why they divorced, and I know that if I allow anything to happen to you, he'll hunt me down to the ends of the universe and gut me hard."

  "That I believe he would." Dancer sat back as he started the airbee. "I'm headed up to bust ass. You joining or staying?"

  Suddenly feeling like his old self again, Bastien grinned as he slung his leg over the airbee beside Dancer's. "Always ready for a good fight. Especially when a mighty War Hauk's involved." He powered on the engine. "And I'm harboring a serious hard-on for anyone who hunts others for a living. I'd much rather be the predator than the prey."

  "Then welcome, brother." Dancer inclined his head to him before he gunned the accelerator.

  Bastien had no idea where they were going, and maybe it was stupid to join him. But it'd been too long since he'd felt like a unit, and honestly, he'd missed this.

  Be careful where your loneliness takes you.

  Then again, it wasn't like he had anything else to do. Until the chip was out of him, he couldn't go after Barnabas. If he left this place, he'd be dead in a week, as it would trip every League alarm he came into contact with. And those fected things were lined up every few feet.

  While he liked a good battle, even he had to sleep sometime and no one would fight that many assassins without a break.

  So for now, he'd stay with Dancer and work as his wingman.

  Dancer led him a few ticks away and then landed the airbike before he turned it off.

  Cautious and alert, Bastien pulled in beside him.

  Dancer removed the safeties and locks from his weapons while Bastien swung his dirty poncho over his shoulder and secured it so that the material wouldn't get in his way during the fight.

  Next, Bastien took inventory of his own weapons while Dancer secured his braids back from his face. Dancer unwound his long brown scarf from around his neck so that he could cover his head and the lower part of his face, no doubt to disguise the fact he was Andarion. Then he pulled out a pair of opaque eyeshields. Fully concealed, he took the container he'd scavenged from the assassins and waited for Bastien.

  As soon as he was ready, they crept toward the shuttle where four men waited for their comrades to return with Dancer's head.

  "So what are you spending your money on?" a large, grimy man asked.

  "Women," his muscular companion said with a snort. "Lots of women."

  "Always looking for the next ex, eh?"

  "Always."

  Dancer met Bastien's gaze. "Cover me."

  He scowled at him. "Want to fill me in on your plan?"

  "Told you already. Bust ass."

  Oh, okay. Sounded like one of Ember's more infamous battle plans. Ill-conceived and guaranteed to get him shot.

  But at least with her, she'd always kissed his boo-boos and made it up to him later. And while he was hornier than hell and Dancer was extremely attractive for a man, Bastien hadn't been alone quite long enough to want to bed down with another man.

  Yet.

  Though another hour with Dancer, enough alcohol and darkness, and he might be persuaded ...

  Dancer rose to his feet and walked calmly toward the group. A breeze stirred, whipping the end of his scarf out while he entered their camp.

  Two of them rose with their hands on their blasters.

  "Can we help you?" the largest one asked. From the way the others deferred to him, Bastien assumed he must be their leader. His was also the voice he'd heard on the link, asking for a status update.

  Without a word, Dancer tossed the container in his hand at the man. It landed at his feet, on its side.

  "What's this?"

  Bastien bit back a laugh. Be careful what you ask, buddy. You might not like the answer.

  Dancer slid his gaze to each man around him in turn. "A gift."

  Curious, the mercenary assassin knelt and opened the bag, then cursed as he saw the assassin's head it contained. He scrambled for his blaster.

  Faster than Bastien could move, Dancer shot his three companions, before closing the distance between them. He snatched the blaster from the man's hand and pulled it back as if he was going to hit him with the stock. "Who sent you," he ground out between clenched teeth.

  "W-w-what?"

  Dropping the blaster, Dancer grabbed his shirt and shook him hard. "Who. Sent. You?"

  Bastien came in, weapon drawn to make sure there was no one else in hiding. "Damn, Hauk. You're a selfish bastard. I thought you were going to leave some for me."

  Dancer ignored him as he lowered the scarf to expose his face. With one hand, he dragged the assassin, who was now kicking and screaming, toward their skimmer.

  "I'm a Boldorian! My guild brothers will swarm all over you for this!"

  Dancer snorted in contempt of the threat. "Let 'em take a fucking number. Now answer my question or I'm going to start eating pieces off your body, human." He pulled the knife from his belt and isolated the assassin's thumb, but not before his gaze fell to the man's forearm and a series of self-imposed marks that nauseated Bastien even more than the man's stench. Those were an accounting for all the innocent lives the bastard had taken.

  Some, Bastien noted, were for kids.

  "We'll start with this, I think," Hauk growled.

  He
screamed like a bitch.

  Grimacing, Bastien sucked his breath in audibly. "You know, friend, I'd tell the Andarion what he wants to know. They're not a patient race ... and they're always, always hungry."

  Sweat poured down the assassin's face as he gulped. "I-I-I don't know. I just have the ID code. That's all. I swear. You can see for yourself."

  Bastien took over covering him while Dancer yanked the assassin's PD off his belt and turned it on.

  Dancer cursed. "Cabarro? Can you read this?" He tossed it over.

  Bastien took a second to look at it. "Yeah. It's the contract for your ass. Spill-kill. Bonus for your head. Damn, Hauk. If I could spend money, I'd be tempted to end you for this amount. Fain or no Fain."

  Dancer shook his head, knowing Bastien wouldn't dare. "Does it say who wants me dead?"

  "Nah. He's right. Just lists an anonymous ID for payment. If this armpit of the Nine Worlds had any reception, you might be able to backtrace it. But as it is..."

  "See! I--" The man's words ended with a sharp blast to his chest.

  Dancer stepped over his body.

  Bastien handed him the PD. "You're one cold son of a bitch."

  Dancer jerked the assassin's sleeve back to show the catalog of kills he'd carved into his flesh as proud tribute for all the victims he'd made.

  Half of them were for women and children.

  "He deserved worse."

  Bastien shot the body three more times.

  Dancer arched a brow at his actions.

  Shrugging, Bastien holstered his weapon. "He deserved worse."

  "Spend a lot of time in the sun, do you?"

  More than he could imagine. Bastien laughed as Dancer went inside the skimmer to see if there was anything he could use to get away from any others who might come for him.

  Or better yet, if they could fly it out themselves.

  Unfortunately, it was low on fuel. And as he'd suspected, it was a preprogrammed skimmer used to take the assassins to and from their outer atmosphere spaceship. Which meant there were more of them waiting for this group to return.

  Great. Just great. Leave it to a Hauk to rain down assassins on the head of his Ravin ass.

  Bastien barely bit back a groan at this new nightmare. Out of the frying pan and into the fryer ...

  An alarm sounded.

  "What'd you do?" Bastien asked sardonically.

  Sighing, Dancer shot the control panel that housed the signal. It went instantly silent. "Must have been wired to the mission leader's vitals. It's an alarm to the mother ship notifying the others that they're dead."

  Fected awesome ... Bastien glared at the sky, expecting the enemy to start dropping in any second, given his luck. "How many you think are up there?"

  "Don't know. But they're down twenty-nine men."

  "Survivors will be glad they don't have to split that wide a cut."

  Dancer grunted. "Boldorians won't care about that. It's now an honor quest for them to come get me. With reinforcements."

  "Really?"

  He nodded. "You scared yet?"

  Bastien let out a false laugh. "I'm hunted by League assassins for fun and promotion, and you think these backwater pussies scare me? Really?"

  Dancer clapped him on the back as a sign of brotherhood. "When we get that chip out of you, if you need a place, The Sentella's always looking for good people."

  Yeah, but that wasn't him. "I have some long-overdue payback to shove up someone's ass first. After that? I just might accept your offer."

  Dancer confiscated arms, ammunition, and a radio before pulling back. He paused long enough to check the tracking device's broadcast frequency.

  "What are you doing?" Bastien asked with a frown.

  "Reprogramming this to their frequency. They land, talk to each other, and I can peg them as fast as they peg me."

  Impressive, but he should expect no less from a Hauk. "You are Fain's brother."

  "Taught him everything he knows."

  Bastien arched a disbelieving brow.

  Dancer grinned. "About electronics. He taught me fighting ... usually by sitting on my ass until I got big enough to make it hurt when he tried."

  Like him and Quin ... and Lil. Honestly? He'd have fought Quin twice before ever tangling once with his sister. She hit three times as hard and was four times meaner.

  "Ah." Bastien grabbed food and water. "So what's the plan now?"

  "Pull back. Keep them after me and away from my family until reinforcements arrive." He pinned Bastien with a hard stare. "If I die, go out with a major body count."

  "My kind of plan." And the kind that used to send Ember into apoplexy. Hence one mission when she'd shot him herself before battle even began to keep him out of the fray.

  Not to mention the kind of plan that used to make his mother and sister break out in hives.

  Dancer took a few minutes to siphon fuel from the two airbees on board the skimmer and add it to the ones they'd ridden in with.

  Bastien hesitated, then realized that he might as well tell Dancer everything about his situation. After all, he had the only safe place for them to stay in the entire desert. There was no need in being selfish with it. "If you need a good defensive place to lead them to, there's an old abandoned base not that far from here where I make my home."

  "Bredeh's?"

  Bastien furrowed his brow. "You know it?" That stupid question was out before he could stop it. Of course Dancer would know it. Being a part of The Sentella and one of Nyk's friends, he'd probably been in with the run that had bombed it to oblivion.

  "Yeah, I do. It's where I sent my family."

  Should have known ... And strangely, he had an odd feeling of being violated, knowing that there were strangers with his personal stuff. Not that he had much, but still ... Been a long, long time since he'd shared a place with anyone else or had to worry about someone going through his things.

  "Oh. Damn. Hope they don't find my porn."

  Dancer arched a brow.

  "I'm kidding. I have it all locked up."

  Laughing again, Dancer shook his head. "You have been alone far too long."

  Bastien sobered. "Yeah, I have. It's good to be around people again."

  "Not people, human."

  "Not human, either, brother. Lost my humanity a long time ago when I got betrayed into this hell of a life." Bastien glanced back to where they'd left the majority of the bodies. "The caves will give us some cover, but trap us in an attack."

  "Yeah. We're in the middle of the great Oksanan desert. Not a lot here, period."

  "Nothing but buzzards and raiders," Bastien agreed. "Look, I know you don't want to chance leading them to your family. But I'm thinking that we can use the old transmitter at the base to signal your girlfriend's transport back from the city."

  Dancer went ramrod stiff at those words. "What do you mean?"

  "The blonde who joined you? I couldn't really make out her features, but she came in locally, right?"

  Dancer's demeanor turned darker. "You saw her arrive?"

  Bastien nodded. "She was dropped off a little ways from your camp a few days ago.... You look like you had no idea."

  Dancer didn't comment on that. "What all did you see?"

  Bastien shrugged nonchalantly. "It was a small transport. Looked like it came out of one of the distant cities here. Didn't appear space-worthy. It lacked shielding and..." His voice trailed off as he met Dancer's gaze. "Why are you so pissed now?"

  His breathing labored, Dancer curled his lip. "Because I think I just handed my kids off to my worst enemy."

  CHAPTER 7

  Once they'd returned to Dancer's camp, Bastien hung back with the airbees while Dancer walked toward the woman as if he could kill her. Though he had no idea why Dancer was this upset, given how many days they'd been here. Bastien had assumed they were long-time friends or family.

  Obviously, that assumption had been wrong. There was something else at play here that he didn't know about. 'Cause that wa
s one seriously pissed off Andarion, and he was grateful to God he wasn't the one who'd enraged him.

  Dancer cornered the woman with a feral grimace that would have caused most folks to wet themselves instantly. To the woman's credit, she didn't flinch. She stood toe-to-toe with him.

  "What have you done with them?" Dancer demanded in a deep, terrifying growl.

  She appeared as confused by his anger as Bastien was. "What? The kids?"

  "Darice! Thia!" Dancer shouted.

  The moment they came into sight, Dancer ran straight to them and jerked them against his chest as if he'd been terrified for them. He kissed each one on the head before he turned his angry glare back to the woman.

  Feeling awkward, Bastien continued to hang back, out of the range of the Andarion's fury. Whatever distemper Dancer suffered from, he wanted no part of it.

  "What's going on, Uncle?" the younger blonde woman asked. "Is everything all right?"

  The rage on Dancer's face was tangible. "It is now." Dancer released the kids.

  As the woman turned to meet his gaze and he finally saw her features clearly and up close, Bastien felt as if he'd been sucker-punched.

  Damn ...

  This was some twisted shit.

  "You two know each other?" Dancer growled.

  She shook her head.

  That woman might not know him, but Bastien knew that face. He'd seen it well the night he'd taken Fain home after his drunken bender that had almost caused them both to be jailed.

  "Omira Hauk?" He scowled at Dancer, trying to understand just what kind of sick, psycho mind game he'd accidentally stumbled into. "What are you doing with your brother's ex-wife?"

  The fury that darkened those Andarion eyes made Bastien step back--not out of fear, but so that he would have adequate room to defend himself.

  Instead of coming for him, Dancer gathered the boy and girl, and put them on the airbee he'd been riding.

  As the young blonde walked past, she cast Bastien a sweet little smile that left him a lot harder than he was comfortable with, considering their obvious age difference. While she was legal, it was ethically questionable.

  But then, given how long he'd been without a woman, it didn't take much to "pique" his interest.

  Still, she had a nice ass. Sweet face that was balanced with just the right amount of trouble-making seductress to lure any man, young or old, who had a taste for female companionship.

  Damn, he felt bad for her daddy ...

  Suddenly Bastien realized that he was eyeballing a member of Dancer's family, and if he didn't stop, he'd be gutted.