Dragonfly (7 page)

On the next level, footsteps clanked, and that yelling voice still hadn’t shut up.

“Back,” snapped Dragonfly, twisting the heat up on his pistol, and I ducked just in time.

He seared a small round hole into the ceiling, and the four-inch-thick ultraplastic vaporized, the hole widening until it grew large enough to climb through. The brown polymer smell wrinkled my nose, but I didn’t waste any time. I sprang and gripped the hole’s warm edge, folding first one leg and then the other through. Times like this, I was thankful for all those hours in the combat gym. Especially as I could feel his gaze glued to my ass, enjoying the view.

Soft green neon greeted me. Aerated oblivion crystals stung fruity in my nose, making my head ache. Sinuous music coiled, the bass thudding under laughter, clinking glass and bubbling smokewater. Still on my knees, I peered into an array of soft white couches, well-dressed bodies sprawled across them, languid in pairs or threes. Glass shisha pipes lay uncoiled on the shiny floor, their dangerous sweet smoke drifting. Next to us, a guy and a girl were already at it clumsily in a corner, spit shining on her neck, her painted eyes glazed. We’d come up in a dropout den, and no one had noticed.

I rose cautiously, and clunked my head on the underside of a long table. Dragonfly climbed up beside me and tucked his pistol away under his jacket.

To my surprise, he grinned. “Wonder what we could be up to down here?”

Before I could make a sharp retort, he grabbed my hand and dragged me to my feet. A few dopers blinked curiously at us, and I puffed hair from my face, wishing I wasn’t sweating so much.

Dragonfly flung his arm around my shoulder and planted a kiss on my cheek, his lips lingering. “Well, my dear, shall we go on back to the ship and freshen up?”

Was he going out of his way to provoke me? If that hand went anywhere, he’d be sorry. I slid my arm around his narrow waist and gave him an infatuated smile, slurring my voice to sound spaced out. “What a good idea.”

We wove our way through the bar and out onto the main terrace, where soft red carpet lined the floor under bright green pot plants, and massive oblong viewing windows looked out over the mighty blue Irkutsk nebulas. Behind us in the den, voices raised, furniture crashed, glass broke. The goons had found our escape route.

Dragonfly leaned his head on mine, his arm still draped around my neck. His lean body pressed against me, and he smelled of warmth, excitement, healthy sweat. “Shall we get on with it, my love?” He dropped his voice to a murmur. “You’d better still have my chip, hellcat.”

The thrill of danger still heated my blood, and his closeness wasn’t helping. I needed to pull away, to keep my distance, but I just smiled for the audience as we strode past the awe-inspiring view toward the spaceport ring, trying not to look in a hurry.

As we stepped under the square-cornered archway into the massive curved metal tube of the epsilon docking ring, the bright white icelights in the ceiling faded to red.

“That’s alert phase,” I whispered. It was after midnight local, but if any docking crew remained, they’d be armed. “Any plan?”

“Yes. Don’t alert anyone. Slot five, quick.”

A ribbed steel catwalk with a handrail stretched inside the tube to our left and right, seven slots on each side. We turned left and walked past some trapezoidal blast doors, through a bulkhead, past a storage alcove stacked with metal crates and provisions, another set of doors, another alcove.

Booted feet clanged on the catwalk ahead of us, and charging laser pistols buzzed, high-pitched, at least two. My fingers tensed on his hip, my throat tightening. I didn’t want to have to kill anyone. “Shit. You got a plan B?”

“Sure,” whispered Dragonfly. “Look too dumb to be a threat. Don’t hit me, okay? I’m sorry.”

And he pushed me into the bulkhead’s shadow and covered my mouth with his. His kiss was hot, alive, arousing, his lips demanding my response. My back smacked against the wall, sharp bolts digging in, and breathless fury blazed through me. No fair. I understood what he was doing, but I wanted to hurt him, to jab my fingertip into that nerve centre in his cervical spine and watch him pass out. He wasn’t pretending, though, if the urgent press of his body was any guide. Hard, muscular, unyielding, just like I’d imagined … Okay, so when did I start imagining his body?

I struggled to keep my mind on the mission as the docking crew’s footsteps clanged closer. Looking convincing wouldn’t be easy if we didn’t both play. So I slid my wrists around his neck and wrapped my leg around his thighs, opening my mouth a little, letting him in. He groaned into my mouth, and our tongues entwined, unwelcome pleasure burning to my core. He was a damn good kisser, and he tasted pretty good for a murdering psycho.

He slid his strong hand up my thigh and pulled me onto him, his fingers digging in, and damn it if I didn’t start to ache. It was only natural, considering the danger. From the feel of what pressed into my groin, he was getting off on it too, and I thought about touching him, unzipping him, guiding him into me. Sinking onto him, deep and hard, crushing his hair in my fists …

Metal clunked against the bulkhead, and I realized someone was talking.

Dragonfly broke our kiss, leaving his hand planted on my ass and giving me a cheeky squeeze. I gasped, trying to control my breathing, and the bastard winked at me, his lips still shining from our kiss. “
Un momento, cara.
”

He turned his head, the picture of exasperation. “I’m sorry, what?”

One of the two young docking trolls stared, grease smeared in his straw-colored hair. That laser pistol looked useless in his gangly hand. From what I could see he’d be more likely to shoot himself than anyone else. The other one hefted his pistol above a thick-veined forearm, vein-ridged latissimus muscles bulging under his sleeveless grey coverall, sweat gleaming in his bristle-cut hair. Clearly he worked out too much.

“Security check. Let’s see your ident.”

The shatterjay lay warm and ready against my sweating thigh, and tension curled my fingers.

Dragonfly grinned at him. “Is that necessary, craftsman? We were just on our way back to her … that is, our ship, and we got a bit distracted.”

RoidBoy stretched his fingers around the silver pistol grip. “Ident.”

Dragonfly let me go and walked up to him, and I slouched, sulking, playing along. He bent his face close to RoidBoy’s, making him blush, the poor sweetie. “I’d really rather you didn’t sec-log this, my friend. It’s … delicate for me. And, well, it’s pretty obvious who she is, don’t you think?”

I slung one hand on my hip, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “Yeah, and time is money, so can we get on with it?”

The skinny blond one tugged RoidBoy’s shoulder. “Come on, let ’em be. Alarm’s going off.”

Not too bright, these kids. That’s why they worked on the docks.

RoidBoy hesitated, and Dragonfly stroked a speculative finger down the kid’s tight coverall, his gaze hot and half-lidded. “You want to come along, handsome? We’ve got space for three.”

RoidBoy watched, fixated, and Dragonfly drifted his hand down toward the kid’s groin.

I sauntered up, curled my arm around Dragonfly’s neck and added my hand to the mix. Seemed what they said about steroid use was true. “Tricks for three, too.”

RoidBoy stumbled backward, sweating. “Get off me, freak.”

“Baby doesn’t want to play,” I said, pouting, and laughed when he and his goggling friend made a quick exit.

“Good,” murmured Dragonfly as we slipped past the bulkhead. “I was having fun with just us two.”

I almost punched him before I remembered he didn’t know who I really was. My flesh still burned from kissing him, my breasts still ached, my thighs were still damp, and I hated him for it.

“I’m still awake, I suppose,” I retorted. “Barely.”

“I did say I was sorry.”

He twisted the red steel hinge and wrenched the lever out and down, and the foot-thick blast doors parted with a clunk. At the end of a short corridor, through a clear plastic airlock, his ship’s tubular gangway gleamed, the dull metal fluorescing green and yellow with rabid biochemical security. He strode down the corridor, leaving me to seal the blast doors while he typed his code into the console studded to the wall. The plastic slid aside, and we scrambled on board.

As soon as the airlock sealed, chemically induced nausea gripped me like a magclamp. I choked and doubled over, plastering my hand over my mouth.

“Hold it in, can’t you?” He grabbed my other hand, dragging me around a corner and up the few ladder steps into the ship proper, the sickening luminescence crawling over me. Tears seeped out, a fist of pain squeezing my guts. I skidded around a metal workbench bolted to the deck and collapsed onto a sunken black sofa littered with tools and fragments of electromag kit.

He hopped up the steps into the cockpit and slid into the padded grey command chair, the bright display igniting in the air at the brush of his finger. He tapped a couple of commands, cancelling the biochemical security precautions, and the luminescence died.

I swallowed and wiped my mouth, the sickness subsiding but the sour taste lingering. He was already arcing the short-range propulsion, and with a lurch the ship rolled to starboard and darted away from Esperanza.

8

The main deck of Dragonfly’s ship smelled of plastic and burned solder, like a workshop. By the time the security goons realized their mistake, we’d skipped traffic clearance, and Dragonfly gave a sharp arc-rocket boost to the ion drives and we were gone. Once the course was set and the drives accelerated us into slipspace, he shut the glass console down and stretched from the command chair with a sigh.

I watched him from the sunken lounge in the saloon, rubbing angry hands on my thighs, his golden chip jabbing warm into my belly beneath my shorts. We were alone, Dragonfly and I. In my dreams, I’d waited for this a long time. I could kill him now and no one would care. Except Director Renko, and I could deal with that later. Claim he’d attacked me, that it was an accident.

He stripped off his jacket and unholstered his pistol, tossed it wearily onto the console. He looked young and harmless, scraping soft hair from his dark-ringed eyes. Yes, I could kill him all right. Slide that shatterjay under his chin and blow his artery apart.

But I wasn’t sure I wanted to sell my soul to Surov and black ops just yet. There was still the question of what Dragonfly was up to. I could blow his little ruse wide open, stab the insurrection in the heart and score even more points with Axis. There’d still be time to kill him later.

He hopped down the steps and planted himself on the worktable before me, shoving aside a half-built gammaspace commlink and a bunch of colored wire. “Welcome to
Ladrona
,” he said, but he didn’t sound pleased to have me here. “Now give me my chip.”

Ladrona
. Lady thief. It figured.

I crossed one leg over the other—here, have another eyeful—and folded my arms. “I don’t think so.”

Challenge glinted in his eyes. “I could search you for it.”

I couldn’t help glancing at his fingers. Remnants of desire lingered in my hot skin and skipping pulse, and my guts tightened. I flashed him a glare, daring him. “Not without that pistol.”

He watched me, dark because he knew I was right. “So what, will you just sit there?”

“Only for as long as it takes. I want in.”

He laughed, pleasant and melodic. It made me remember kissing him, the way he’d tasted, how he’d made me ache for him.

Anger boiled, and I glared at him. I should never have let him get away with that. “What’s so funny?”

“
Señorita
, you have no idea what you’re asking.” He stood and walked back toward the cockpit, dismissing me. He really knew how to hack at my nerves.

I tried to tame my indignation with slyness. “Think not? I know you’re planning to break the vault the day they sign the Santa Maria pact.”

He paused.

I checked my fingernails airily. “I know you’re faking the deposit crypto, and I know that what’s on your chip is the operator schematic for the neurospace.”

He tried not to show his surprise, but when he turned his eyes had narrowed. “How do you figure that?”

“Because that’s how I’d do it. Look, you can have your chip once we get to where we’re going. I just want in. I’m good with crypto, I can help you.”

He looked unconvinced, suspicion creasing his brow.

I tried flattery. “I’ve seen you on pirate newscasts. That thing with the plasma futures, ripping off the Luvanenko mob? That was priceless. And I’d give my left arm to know how you broke those guys from the supermax at Bin Guska.” I let my gaze flicker away, like I was embarrassed. “Believe it or not, you’re kind of my hero. This is the biggest game of my life, my dream job. I can’t just walk away.”

He eyed me for a moment longer, his expression dark, then silently he climbed back to the cockpit and lit the console, plasma veins glowing violet inside the glass.

I leaped up and followed, trying to peer over his shoulder. “So where are we going?”

“Don’t touch that.” He jabbed at the contact that set the local biochem, stimulating it to tolerate his chemistry and his alone, and the field glowed bright over the entire console like festering green fungus.

I snatched back my hand. “Watch it, why don’t you?”

He ignored me, retrieving his pistol and holstering it, sidestepping me, around the console toward the narrow plastic spiral steps leading to the accommodation deck. “I need to sleep. You do whatever you want. Shower and food are upstairs, blankets under the bench. But touch anything else and you’ll do worse than vomit.”

I watched him climb, poison bubbling in my heart. Perhaps he’d live through the night, perhaps not.

He paused with his hand on the ladder rail, and gave me that sweet little smile. “Oh, and if I have an accident and don’t wake up? You’ll never get off this ship.”

***

I stood in the glow of flickering green fluorescence, listening to his footsteps as he crossed overhead, waiting for him to stop moving. Water gushed, drumming on plastic. He was undressing, getting in the shower. Shaking hot water through his hair, letting it run over his face, into his mouth, down his body …