Havoc (13 page)

His friend's pleading gave him pause. “El, if you don't want me to fuck her, I won't."

Elion seemed to realize they'd come to an impasse. He wasn't sure enough about his feelings to claim Sayal for himself, but he cared enough that he didn't want to see Kels plow her over. Kels read the play of emotion in his friend's eyes. He couldn't help him make this decision. It had to come from the heart.

Finally Elion said, “For whatever reason, she seems to think she's got to get to the high games. It's important to her. I wish she'd say more about it, but I guess she can't get there without practicing here, or somewhere, first."

"True enough. You know...you could do her. In the arena,” Kels suggested, “'stead of me."

"Saints no.” Elion reeled back, staring at him with disbelief. “Did your brain get that fried? That's not my gig at all."

"Don't know until you've tried it."

"Are you still hinting at that triad idea? Because I'm not interested. I told Sayal that as well. Get it out of your head right now."

"She brought it up, did she?"

"In a roundabout way."

"You don't fancy that? You, me, and her together?"

Elion's face had become one big frown, and Kels smiled. The poor bloke—he was twisting something awful. He decided to push. “If not in the arena, outside it, then?” he quietly proposed.

Elion pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids, then finished his hool in one gulp. “What would be the point of that?” he said, his voice getting raspy.

Kels waited until his mate's eyes turned to meet his, and took a long, leisurely, suggestive drag on his cig. “Pleasure,” he murmured and let the smoke flow from his nostrils.

Elion's body went from jigging to stone still. He stabbed a finger at Kels. “In all the years we've been together, you've never spoken to me this way."

"Some things are worth waiting for,” he drawled. Saints, it was fun to get Elion going. He really shouldn't have waited so long; his mate was right.

If El's face grew any redder, it'd catch fire. Abruptly Elion's gaze fixed on the entryway, and he breathed out a groaning sigh. “Thank the saints, here's Sayal.” He stood to wave her over, and Kels could see his dick was stone hard against the fastener of his pants. His own body hummed with anticipation. It would be the challenge of a lifetime to coax El into bed with him and the bird...but so very worth it.

Sayal finished adhering the patch to Kels's armpit. She'd tried to think of a believable place to put it, and this seemed to work. The burn ointment had dried somewhat, and one corner of the patch kept curling up. Muttering an oath beneath her breath, she licked her thumb and tried to wet it down.

"Having a problem, luv?” Kels looked down at her, his arm raised.

"No. It's...it's just dried out a bit is all."

"It'll still work, won't it?” Elion asked.

"Positively.” They stood together in the diner's roomy cleanser. Elion had his back to the door to make sure no one tried to get in. Kels had taken off his shirt and now waited patiently for her to finish cementing her lie to his skin.

A knock came on the door. Elion said over his shoulder, “Occupied,” then whispered, “Better get a move on. There are a lot of people drinking out there who're going to need this room soon."

Sayal straightened. “Done, I think. How's that feel?"

"Like there's nothing there,” Kels said. He studied her a moment, and she wished their bond were deeper so she could read him better. Surface emotions were all she'd ever mastered, and Kels was harder to read than most. It was her empathic ability that she'd rely on tonight, her ability to draw away pain...and poison.

She gripped his wrist, opening the bond, though he'd never know. As always, sexual heat flowed from him to her. She'd never met a more sexual being. Even her creator had been able to switch his libido on and off, but Kels oozed desire. He'd already been hot with it when she'd arrived, and Elion too, the two of them giving off such powerful auras of lust that by the time they'd finished their drinks, gone over their plans, and risen to hide in the cleansing room, her nipples ached, and her pussy was swollen and wet.

The knock came at the door again, and Kels bent to kiss her. “Thanks, precious. We better get going. It's almost nine-hour. Ulvik's punctual if I recall."

Elion stood away from the door. As Sayal passed, his hand brushed her hip, and the connection she had with him ratcheted up her desire. By the Fates, she needed a cock inside her soon. But first the jarouk...

They walked the corridors toward Ulvik's studio in relative silence, unusual for these men, sandwiching her as usual. She noticed their expressions were withdrawn, as if each of them had something on his mind. Something seemed to have happened in the few hours they were apart. She wondered if Elion had told Kels about the blowjob. He seemed lost in his thoughts, although when his blue eyes met hers, she could see the desire in them, barely banked.

They reached the inkman's plain door. Before they entered, Kels put his hand on her shoulder. “Now you're sure you're feeling up to this? Your back's not paining you?"

"Not at all. I looked in the mirror, and I still can't see anything. I have to say. After all that, if I don't get a biolume tat out of this, I think I'll actually be a little disappointed."

"Be glad if you don't turn into a clam,” Elion said drily. “You don't have to stay for the game. It's not a pretty sight, watching a fella get stung by jarouki scorpions."

"I feel that I should. I want to."

"Well,” Kels said, “if at any time you feel a quease coming on, El will take you out, all right?"

Would it really be that bad? She took both their hands and squeezed their fingers. “Thank you for caring about me."

Kels and Elion glanced at each other, one of their secret exchanges that spoke so much.

Treena came out the door just then and grinned at them. “Ready for Daddy's card game? I saw him a few minutes ago shaking up the jarouki."

"Wonderful. Angry scorpions,” Kels drawled.

"Oh, they're just his little pets.” Treena's gaze touched on their linked hands, and she bit her lip. “Go right in. He's waiting for you."

Kels let go of Sayal's hand to take the door, but Elion, tellingly, did not. She smiled at him over her shoulder, and he rubbed his thumb over the backs of her knuckles. The Fates had truly been kind to her, bringing her to these men.

Ulvik was indeed waiting for them. His bland gaze settled on Sayal. “How's the tat?"

"It's fine. Hasn't bothered me all day."

"I'd like to examine it before we get started."

Kels looked at her, and she nodded. “It's all right. I don't mind."

They followed Ulvik into his black on black workroom, where he beckoned for Sayal to lie belly down again on his table. He pulled up his stool and sat beside her, fitting his monocle against his eye, then lifting her shirt. Sayal couldn't see his face, but she heard his intake of breath, and her heart skipped a beat.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

She felt his cool fingers moving over her skin. “Interesting...” he murmured. Arms pillowed beneath her cheek, she twisted her head enough to see him. He'd dropped his monocle and now fitted goggles over his head. Lights came on inside them, and he bent closer to her back.

"What do you see, Ulvik?” Kels asked. He stood protectively close on her other side, his hand on her shoulder.

"I don't see anythin',” the inkman muttered. “That's the problem. Not even with the ultraviolet. Hmm...” He probed, and she flinched.

"Something's happening under there,” she said. “It hurt a bit when you did that."

"Did it now?” His voice was distant and distracted as he continued probing. Her breathing quickened as flicks of pain stabbed her.

"Now I'm really feeling it,” she said, closing her eyes against a particularly sharp bite.

"Quit, Ulvik. She's hurting.” Kels leaned over her; she felt his hip against her side. Whatever his expression, it caused Ulvik to sit back and take off his goggles.

"How long you plannin’ on being on Aleut?” the inkman asked.

"Soon as we get our ship, we're out of here,” Kels replied.

"It would be better—safer—if she stayed nearby. I'm not exactly sure where the ink has gone."

"What's that mean? It's in her bloodstream?” That was Elion's worried voice. He'd been a meter away but now came to stand next to Kels. “You promised that wouldn't happen, you bastard."

"I never promised,” Ulvik said drily. “I took precautions against it. I told you. There were no guarantees."

Sayal's pulse leaped. She imagined every little ache to be the ink taking over her cells. “Kels. Elion..."

Two pairs of hands immediately lay comfortingly on her body, and she tried to rise, but Ulvik pressed her shoulder down. “Hold on, missy. I'm not quite done."

Kels, stroking her head, said, “She hasn't been feverish, and her hair's not falling out. What other symptoms might there be?"

She could practically hear Ulvik thinking in the space it took him to answer. “Bein’ honest, I'm not certain. Like I said, I ain't worked much with this ink. Everything could be fine, just the way it's s'posed to be. We can only hope, eh?"

"You'd better hope,” Elion growled. “Because if anything happens to her, I'll have your bloody head on a pike."

"Control your man, Cap'n,” Ulvik muttered. He slid his cold fingers along her sides, then under her armpits, under her jaw. “Sit up, my beauty,” he said. She did, nearly shuddering at the murderous expressions on both Kels's and Elion's faces, eternally grateful they weren't angry with her. Ulvik put his monocle back on and looked into her eyes, then her mouth. He checked her reflexes.

"She had a scan this morning at the Dome,” Kels said. “She was clear except Canto picked up alien DNA. Your ink, I presume?"

"Nah.” Ulvik shone a pin light into her ears. “Wouldn't show up on a scan. DNA's shattered; part of what makes it safer."

"Then what the hell was it?"

The inkman shrugged. “Dunno. Could have been the ink, I s'pose. Tricky stuff. Maybe not all the genes despliced. I leave only the essentials in place, remove the toxic chromos best I can. That's how it's done, y'know.” He leaned his knuckles on either side of Sayal's thighs and gazed into her face, grimacing. “Well, chicky, I don't know what to tell you. You're not showing any signs of poisoning, but I also don't see my tat. It's the first time it's ever happened to me, but I've heard of tats not taking."

"What'll happen to the ink, then?” Elion asked.

"Could be it'll bind with her DNA but do her no harm. If we're lucky, it'll pass harmlessly out of her system. It'll just biodegrade and flush out with the rest of the waste."

How unappetizing, Sayal thought.

"How disappointing,” Ulvik said.

"Then why did it hurt when you touched me?” she asked.

He straightened and crossed his bony, lume-scarred arms over his chest. “Well, you did get poked about a million times this morning with a very sharp needle."

Elion's hand was between her shoulder blades, rubbing in circles. Kels didn't seem to mind. She reached for Kels's hand, and he twined his fingers around hers on the table.

Ulvik raised an eyebrow. “Still going into the games, then?"

Kels gave a short nod. “Tomorrow, unless she's not feeling well."

"The three of you?"

"Just me and her,” Kels said. Elion's touch dropped away, leaving her cold.

"Well, good to know you can still make a living without your ship."

Kels curled his lip. “Very funny. Treena told me you've got the jarouki riled."

"Yeah, wanted ‘em good and hot for you, Kels. I know you like ‘em that way."

"Let's get this over with,” Elion said, and he came around to help Sayal off the table. His hands lingered at her waist as she stood in front of him.

"Am I playin’ all three of ya?” Ulvik put his knobby hands on his hips. “The captain only. You two, go get a room."

Sayal thought she'd fall over, the wave of panic that hit her was so strong. She had to be in the same room as Kels if not right next to him, touching him, in order to leech away the effects of the toxin.

Fortunately Elion snapped, “In your dreams. I don't know you won't pull any funny stuff. I swear Kels's drink was spiked last time."

Ulvik sneered. “Don't need none of that to beat your boss in a simple card game, flyboy. But if it'll suit you, fine. Just stay on your side of the room.” He narrowed his red-rimmed eyes at Elion. “I got just the tat in mind for you. Lookin’ forward to it?"

Elion rubbed his cheek as if subconsciously feeling the needle there, and Sayal slipped her arm around his waist. “Come on, Elion. You know Kels will win."

"So sure, are ya?” Ulvik turned to her. “How do I know there ain't no monkeyshines between you three?” He swept his long finger over them.

Kels said, “They don't have to stay. If you're afraid their being there'll make you so nervous that you'll lose, then fine."

"Nah,” he growled. “Then I won't have your mate and his lovely, milky skin at hand when you fold. Don't want to risk him runnin’ off on me."

Elion opened his mouth to fire another rebuke, but Kels said, “Speaking of which, where're the locks to the
Nova
? We've got business aboard, and I want her over in the loading docks before twelve-hour."

"The only thing you'll be loadin’ is your bags on a rental flight.” But Ulvik produced what looked like an ordinary door pad from his pocket.

Kels and Ulvik continued to snap back and forth at each other as they left the workshop and strolled toward a back room, and Sayal finally supposed it was all part of the game. By the time they sat at a tarnished metal table in rickety chairs, Kels looked grimly determined, and Ulvik's gray-green skin had adopted angry orange undertones.

She took the chair to Kels's left, but Ulvik waved her back. “Way over against the wall if you please, both of you. No lookin’ at his cards. And no talkin’ neither."

"C'mon, Sayal,” Elion said, dragging two chairs away from the table. The room was small, only about four by four meters, and they couldn't move all that far away, which was fortunate. As she sat, Sayal attempted to open the psychic link between her and Kels and immediately recognized his signature energy. Elion, to her right, rubbed her shoulder again.