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  “Wait. Stop. This is insane.” She had to put an end to this before it went any further. His hands rested on her neck, his thumbs stroking up and down her rapid pulse points.

  “I’m sorry.” Was he apologizing for the kiss?

  He pressed hard on her neck and everything went black.

  Chapter Two

  She was going to kill him, the bastard, just as soon as she found him. And she would. No matter how long it took her.

  “The intel was wrong and Granter never showed, but I have another lead on him.” It was risky to lie to Artemis, but no way was she going to admit to getting sidetracked and incapacitated. No telling what her boss might do.

  “Hmm…” Artemis didn’t speak for several minutes. It was a ploy to make Sass jumpy, maybe reveal more just to fill the silence.

  Yeah, good luck with that. She’d long ago learned all her boss’s tricks. None of them worked on her.

  “I think it’s time you got a reminder of why you need to work harder.”

  A couple of beeps and then a friendly voice. “Sassy, are you okay?”

  She gripped her communicator tight, wishing it came with video, but Artemis was obsessive about no image of her ever being released. The heavily encrypted communicator was speech only.

  The tightness in her chest receded slightly. Delphi was okay. Only she and Zaxe called her that. Artemis had given her the name Assassin when she’d taken her in as a child of five. That was a mouthful for a kid, so she’d shortened it to Sass.

  If she’d ever had a name before that, she’d long since lost it. Surviving in the back alleys of Ramos 3 had been hard. Hunger and cold were intimate friends. To get by, she’d done whatever she’d had to.

  Picking Artemis’s pocket had been both a blessing and a curse. She was exceptionally good at it, since it meant the difference between starving to death and living, but Artemis had been better.

  Rather than alert the authorities, the older woman had taken her in. Her boss appreciated raw skill. For the first time in memory, she’d had a safe warm place to live, plenty of food to eat, and friends her own age. All she had to do in return was train and do as her benefactor asked.

  No brainer. At least not until they all grew older and understood they’d sold their souls to the devil.

  They were Artemis’s trained assassins, doing her bidding no matter how repugnant the job. If they failed, their friends died.

  “How are you and Zaxe?” They had to be safe. They were the only people who’d ever cared about her.

  Delphi laughed. “We’re fine. Enjoying our luxury accommodations.”

  Anger burned through her blood like acid. That was the evil genius of Artemis. She encouraged small groups of intimate friends, allowing the children to bond since most of them were alone in the world. No more than three to a group. She wanted them to be close, willing to do anything to save the others.

  “I bet.” She swallowed back the lump in her throat. For however long she was on the job, Delphi and Zaxe would be kept in a prison complex and watched over by Artemis’s personal guards. Sure, the rooms were spacious and comfortable, but it was still a prison. If Sass tried to run or didn’t complete her assignment, her boss would kill one or both of her friends.

  It was a hell of an incentive. It was as effective as a programming chip in a cyborg, keeping her from killing her master.

  “Are you okay?” Delphi repeated her question.

  “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Granter wasn’t on Oasis.” Or rather, he had been, but she’d missed him after the bastard had choked her unconscious. At least he hadn’t killed her. She’d make him regret that. “I’m following another lead.”

  Desperation fueling her, she’d practically torn Oasis apart until she’d unearthed one of Granter’s contacts. In exchange for his life, he’d given her Granter’s next port of call. She’d just landed on Zardas 4, wasting precious planetary days in transit.

  “You watch your back,” Delphi told her. It was what they always said to the one of them out in the world, a reminder that someone cared.

  There was so much more she wanted to say, but their call was being monitored.

  “Will do. Tell Zaxe I said hello.”

  There was a beep and the line went dead. Artemis had cut them off, the bitch.

  Sass pocketed her communicator and left her ship, making sure to engage all security systems. Built to blend in, her small ship looked as though it had seen better days from the outside. But the rust and peeling paint were nothing more than a ruse. Beneath it was one of the finest and fastest personal crafts in the Alliance worlds. The engine was topnotch, the weapons first-class.

  Artemis might be a bitch, but she gave her people the tools to succeed.

  Sass’s skin crawled as she skulked through the shadows on the dock. Too many eyes on her. Not much activity here and most of what was occurring was likely illegal. As long as they stayed out of her way, she didn’t care what they did.

  It got easier when she left the docking station and headed toward the entertainment sector, which was conveniently located only steps away. Not much light here, which worked in her favor, allowing her to pass unseen.

  Music and loud voices spilled from her destination. The neon sign proclaimed it the Drink and Eat. Not much imagination there, but straight to the point.

  Sass made one last check of all her weapons before stepping inside. Her eyes, nose, and ears were immediately assaulted. Basic hygiene wasn’t big with this crowd.

  Memories of her childhood crept into her mind, but she shoved them back and slammed the door shut. Yeah, this place was too much like Ramos 3. Desperation and violence were a way of life. Only the strong survived.

  She stepped into a shadow, her back to the wall, and scanned the space. It wasn’t overly large, but there were people packed in every corner. Granter was Terran, but there were several of them here, along with greenish-blue skinned Crebians, dark-skinned Zaxians from Delphi and Zaxe’s home planet of Zaxus, blue-skinned Danskers, and everything in between.

  That was the thing about bars in remote outposts. People didn’t care where you came from or what you looked like as long as you left them to their business.

  She had no picture of Granter, but the description was almost as good—short, dark-haired, and extremely pale with eyes as green as emeralds.

  Sass headed toward the first likely candidate. He was seated at a table by the back wall. Putting a sway in her step, she strode across the room. Several men tried to stop her, but she deftly avoided them. She’d rather not have to kill someone if it wasn’t necessary.

  The man at the table glanced up and smiled. Crap, his eyes were brown, not green.

  “Sorry.” She gave him a vague smile and scanned again, this time homing in on the small booths tucked along the back wall.

  “Now don’t be hasty, love.” When the man reached for her, she grabbed his hand and jerked his finger until the bone snapped. He howled and yanked his hand back.

  “Sorry.” Honestly, he should count himself lucky. No woman wanted to be grabbed. Try it with an assassin? Well, he was lucky the only thing she’d done was break his damn finger.

  She continued on toward her goal. The man seated in the booth glanced up and the light caught his brilliant green eyes. Satisfaction settled over her. Her quarry was in sight. “Granter.” She slid into the seat opposite him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  He held his hands wide open and smiled. “And here I am.” His accent had a musical lilt. “What can I do for you?”

  “You have information.”

  He sat back and wrapped his hands around his glass of ale. It was of note that he kept his hands visible at all times. Smart when dealing with dangerous types who might be nervous.

  “I know many things.” His gaze hardened. “But they cost.”

  “How much?” Bargaining sucked, but it was sometimes part of the job. She’d much rather slip in under cover of darkness, take out her
target, and disappear.

  “Now that depends on what it is you want to know.” He was smiling again, and damn if his eyes didn’t twinkle. He was enjoying himself. The man must have a death wish.

  “There’s some special technology coming up for sale. My boss wants the details.” Artemis planned to win the auction, no matter if she had to send her assassins out to kill the other interested parties.

  “Yes, very rare, that.”

  Time to get to the details. “I only have your word the info is valid.”

  He put his hand to his chest. “You wound me, you do. I only sell good info. I wouldn’t live long if I didn’t. See, that’s why people like your boss let me live. I have a way of uncovering the most interesting things.”

  His luck would run out someday. It always did.

  “Details.” She wanted out of this bar and off this planet that reminded her so much of the place where she’d spent the first five years of her life. There were too many people in the bar, too many variables she couldn’t control.

  “Money first.”

  “How much?”

  “Two hundred and fifty thousand credits. A bargain, for sure.”

  Granter was smart, she’d give him that. Not so expensive anyone would balk at paying and cheap enough to attract many, many buyers. He’d make millions selling the information. And if it wasn’t all legit, most buyers would let it go as not worth the effort of chasing him down and making him pay. Her estimation of his intelligence grew.

  She reached into her pocket and drew out the chip loaded with the money. “You can verify and transfer this to your account.”

  He held out his hand. “Money first, then information.”

  Before she could hand him the chip, a huge man sat on the bench seat next to Granter, shoving him against the wall. His face was covered in a partial mask, revealing stunning golden-brown eyes and full lips pulled into a grim line. He wore a cloak pulled over his head, which obscured his hair and most of his body.

  “Hey now, what’s this?” Granter protested.

  “He’s not with me,” she assured him. “Wait your turn. I’m conducting business.” If he didn’t leave, she’d kill him. She had to get that information.

  “I’m hurt you don’t remember me.”

  The voice was deeper and the accent different, but the mocking tone she remembered just fine. His eye color might be changed and his features obscured, but she knew who it was. “You bastard.”

  ****

  Spear had wondered what had happened to the sweet little assassin from Oasis. He hadn’t expected to find her with his target. That she’d found Granter before him was a bit of a shock. He had the best tech and support in the universe at his disposal, not to mention years of experience in tracking, and it had taken him some time to discover where the informant had fled.

  She was proving to be quite resourceful.

  “You have details on an auction about a Gravasian blaster and knife.”

  The woman gasped. Hadn’t she known what she was paying for? Curious that she’d waste so much time and money without having that information. She had to be working for someone else. Someone who wanted to remain out of the spotlight.

  The rich and powerful always sent proxies. They wouldn’t risk their own lives or dirty their own hands.

  “Shhh.” Granter glanced around the room. “Why don’t you just announce it to the room?”

  “If you’d like.” He went to stand, but the informant grabbed his arm.

  “Sit back down.” He glanced at the woman opposite them and frowned. “You sure he’s not with you? You seem acquainted.”

  “He choked me out and left me on Oasis. It’s why I missed you there.”

  Seemed she was going to hold that against him. Pity.

  Granter smiled. “No love lost then. How about a bidding war? Highest one gets the info.”

  “How about you sell me the info for the asking price and I let you live?” Spear was through with wasting time.

  “I need that information,” she insisted. He caught the slightest hint of desperation in her voice. Most others wouldn’t have, but he was a Gravasian warrior, trained from birth to notice the tiniest change in voice or expression. This wasn’t just a job to her, any more than it was to him.

  “You can have it. Keep the money. In compensation for what happened on Oasis.” He never experienced guilt over a job. He did whatever was required and moved on. But he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since he’d left her propped up against the wall in the shadows on the docking station. He could still feel the warmth of her skin against his hands, the taste of her lips against his.

  She closed her fingers around the chip and flashed him a quick smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks.”

  Sensing his money disappearing, Granter protested. “Hey now, I’ll sell it to each of you. Price is the same.”

  Spear shook his head. “That ship has left the docking station. You’ll sell it to us for the price of one or I’ll send your name and direction to Gravas.”

  Granter paled. “They’d send an assassin after me if you did that.”

  “Yes, they would.” The man was already dead. He just didn’t know it. Everyone connected to the selling of these particular Gravasian weapons was as good as dead. They belonged to his brother Ivar, who’d gone missing on a long-range scouting mission a month before. When he hadn’t checked in at the appointed time, Spear had been dispatched to find him.

  Gravas didn’t play around when it came to protecting their people and technology. And since Ivar was a prince of Gravas, the penalty for having anything to do with his disappearance was a death sentence.

  His gut tightened at the thought of his younger brother dead. Faith. He had to have faith that Ivar could look out for himself, no matter what situation he found himself in.

  Then Granter’s expression cleared. “Nah, you wouldn’t. Those bastards would track you down and kill you for even knowing about it. We’re all friends here.” He held his hands wide and smiled. “Just give me my money and I’ll give you the auction place and time.”

  Anticipation thrummed through him. He smothered it. He needed to remain calm and clearheaded even though fury bubbled deep inside him like a volcano waiting to explode.

  One step at a time. He needed to find his brother, get him safely home, and then kill everyone who had a hand in this plot.

  He glanced across the table. Maybe not everyone. Depended on her connection, how much she actually knew.

  Spear drew a chip from his pocket and handed it to Granter. The informant took it and quickly scanned it onto his own device, smiling when the light went green to signify the payment had been accepted.

  He might think he was safe, but a tech back on Gravas would be able to monitor Granter for as long as he had the device. Long enough for an assassin to pay him a visit. Spear couldn’t be linked to his death after being seen in public with him. Not that anyone would be able to describe his appearance, but they took no chances.

  Patience gone, Spear glared at the man. “Talk.”

  “Too bad you didn’t find me back at Oasis. That’s where the auction is. Two days from now.”

  The woman swore. “There’s no way to make it there in time.”

  Granter shrugged. “Not my problem. You can always bid remotely. Plenty are.”

  “Where?” He wanted every detail he could get.

  “See a man named Seether at the Rotten Rooster. He’ll be there every day between now and the auction. He has the details of where to view the items in question and bid.”

  Spear stood and glared down at the man. “If you’re lying to me…”

  “No need to. I sell information. That’s it. And it’s good. You could always try to contact the man via link, although I’m not sure he has one.” Granter smiled. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Spear turned and walked away rather than slitting the man’s throat. The people in his way moved without him having to ask. Granter an
d his ilk sickened Spear. They stood for nothing, had no honor or care for those they hurt. All that mattered to them were credits.

  As a Gravasian who prided honor above all, he couldn’t understand a man like that. He might be an assassin, but the universe was a better place without the people he’d killed.

  “Wait.” The woman was right behind him when he stepped onto the passageway in front of the bar. “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “All of it?”

  When he whirled around, she took a hasty step back. “Let’s see. I bought the information because I needed it. I paid for it because I owed you for Oasis. I knocked you out on Oasis because I didn’t want to kill you. And I kissed you because I wanted to. Does that cover everything?”

  His voice got lower with each word he spoke until the last was a harsh whisper. Most people yelled when angry. He grew quieter. Taking a deep breath, he pulled back his emotion. He was close to the edge. It was usually easy to remain detached on a mission, but this one hit way too close to home.

  Most people would have fled in the face of his anger, but not her. “Yes. No. What’s your name, anyway? I’ve been calling you ‘the bastard’ in my head but that’s probably not what your friends call you.”

  His lips twitched. “You’d be surprised. I’m Spear.” He never gave anyone his real name while on an assignment, but he wanted to hear her say it. “And you are?”

  “Sass.”

  “Sass?” An unusual name. Then he frowned. “Short for assassin. That’s cheating.” The lie made his gut twist. He’d expected better from her. They were competitors, but they’d shown each other professional respect.

  “Real name.” She raised her right hand. “Swear to, well, whatever god or goddess you swear to. If I ever had a real name, I lost that memory a long time ago. My name is Assassin, Sass to my friends.”

  “Are we friends?” Why wasn’t he rushing back to his ship and setting course to Oasis? Most ships might not be able to make it in time but his could. The small personal vessel was loaded with the latest in Gravasian technology, including boosters that would allow him to make the auction.