Silver Tongued Devils (19 page)

Brom sniffed and recoiled.
His frown pulled at the corners of his lips and he pulled the mask
back up over his face. It hid his expressions and the stripes on
his face that they couldn’t afford to be seen. Not right now. The
hybrid made a sound of disgust. “What the hell is that?”

With sorrow Na’varr dropped
the cup in the overflowing trash barrel. Black syrup ate through
the plastic lining. “My dreams of a decent cup of damn coffee being
shattered.”

Brom glanced at the vending
machine and shook his head. “Coffee is going to be the death of
you.”

The door to the Naked
Rooster opened and Na’varr stepped out into the street. “If I don’t
get some soon, it’s not my life we’re going to have to worry about.
Let’s get this over with so we can get back to our
thief.”

Brom fell in line, taking his regular
position at Na’varr’s right, two steps off and a pace
behind.

Na’varr trusted the hybrid with his
life. But he wasn’t kidding about that damned cup of
coffee.

***

0455

The Naked Rooster VIP
room

Deep, pulsing music drifted through
the speakers. Smoke hazed the air despite the early morning hour.
Women dressed in more glitter than clothing gyrated against the
poles. Their bodies were the best a back alley cosmetic surgeon
could buy, but one look at their strung-out, vacant stares told you
that there was nobody home. Probably not for a while.

“I’ve got several clients
who love to use our back rooms for,” Bellamy Davies, the proprietor
of the Naked Rooster, leaned close enough for Na’varr to get a full
whiff of too much cologne and too little hygiene. The man’s squinty
eyes sparkled with a wicked, self-satisfied glint, “you
know
, some personal
business.” The suit he wore was obviously expensive and tailored,
but for a man four or five sizes smaller than Bellamy. It was also
barely wrinkled, which told Na’varr he’d donned it just before they
arrived.

Pretending indifference yet throwing
out the best he can offer in entertainment and showmanship. This
guy wasn’t used to dealing with people like them. The deal might be
easier than Na’varr had planned.

This was the fifth time, however, that
his contact had suggested they forego business for pleasure. The
VIP table was littered with trash and plates from the dinner they’d
supposedly interrupted. Na’varr’s patience was at its limit and if
he didn’t get a cup of coffee in the next ten minutes he was liable
to murder someone.

“You offered a drive
manipulator coil, Mr. Davies. If you can’t supply it, then say so.”
Na’varr adjusted his legs under the table. Beside him, Brom’s
agitation was touchable, infectious, and he doubted it had anything
to do with the lewd suggestions of the would-be pimp.

A slow grin spread over Bellamy’s
face, and it reminded Navarr of a snake oil salesman. If he didn’t
show the coil they needed for his ship, Na’varr contemplated how
much he was going to make the man hurt.

The door to one of the back rooms
opened and out stepped a leggy blonde whose clothes barely covered
her ass. The tits spilling from her low cut tunic swayed as she
pushed a cart in his direction. Damn. Was she even
legal?

Steam curled from one of the mugs on
the tray and Na’varr inhaled. The rich scent of fresh coffee
brought the first genuine smile to his face.

“You like Carla?” The woman
reached their side and Bellamy smacked her ass. To her credit, she
neither flinched nor showed any outward expression. “She’s a
clanker.”

Na’varr’s eyebrows rose. An
android? A robot made to look human. The pleasure editions were
rare and expensive to attain. He glanced at Brom and the hybrid’s
gaze flicked to the cart. “Rare and impressive,
Bellamy.”

“Of course it is. Like I
said, I have what you need.”

“Where did you get her
from?”

“I won her in a small wager
with an ore baron passing through our backwater rock.” The man’s
smirk died and he glared at Na’varr. “We doing business or
what?”

Brom’s expression locked
down and Na’varr wished he had the same skills as the hybrid to
detect lies. “My apologies for delaying you.” Na’varr gestured to
Bellamy. “Show me what you’ve got.”

The blonde tugged a cloth napkin away,
revealing a reinforced box. Na’varr tensed. He didn’t have to look
at his friend to know Brom was ready to move in case Bellamy had
any stupid surprises.

She opened the container. The slim
design of the drive manipulator coil they needed was unmistakable.
Na’varr’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. It wouldn’t pay for
the little prick to know how desperate they were.

“This is what you need,
right?” The blonde handed it to Bellamy.

Na’varr glanced at Brom and the hybrid
nodded once. Before they’d entered the Naked Rooster, he’d
reaffixed the gray cloth of his facemask.

“That looks
right.”

“Excellent.” Bellamy set
the coil down and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s talk price. It
looks like you’re not the only one in the market for one of these
babies.”

Brom coughed lightly, telling Na’varr
the prick was lying.

“Of course we’re not.” The
captain smirked. “How much are you going to try and wring out of
us?”

“Not much more than the
original quote. Fifty thousand.”

That put a nice dent in
their dangerously limited funds. “What guarantee do we have that
your coil is the real deal?”

“I’m insulted, Captain
Na’varr. My products are always guaranteed.” Bellamy ran his palm
over the android’s ass. “I have the goods. Now where is my
money?”

“We’ll have it to you, if
your product works.”

Bellamy chuckled. “If you
do that, I keep your partner until the deal goes down.”

Tension had the burgeoning ache in
Na’varr’s head sharpening into a migraine. He forced himself to
relax in his chair in an indifferent pose.

“I’ll leave you two to talk
about it.” Bellamy gestured at the android and she served them both
their drinks. Rich aromatic coffee drifted up to Na’varr’s nose and
he bit back his sigh of contentment.

Bellamy got up and strolled away with
a too-confident grin on his face. The second their contact was out
of sight, Na’varr reached for his cup of coffee, bypassing sugar
for the full flavor of the java.

“He told a lot of
half-truths.” Brom spoke
Arnek
, the language of
mercenaries.

“Like what?”

“He did win her.” Brom
nodded toward the busty blonde standing a few feet away. “But not
through a wager.”

“What about the
coil?”

“As far as he knows, it
works.”

Na’varr nodded. “Then let’s
get this deal done and over with. I need to be back to our ship and
off this rock.” He took a long draw of the coffee.

Liquid heat scalded his mouth and
throat, but he didn’t care….not until the bitter tang of something
distinctly foreign hit his tongue.

Brom’s eyes narrowed as if he sensed
something was wrong. The hybrid sniffed his cup and immediately
threw the mug to the ground with a curse. Na’varr watched with a
sort of detachment as his head spun. Fast poison?

The hybrid launched at Na’varr,
knocking the cup from his nerveless fingers. Na’varr’s tongue
burned while a strange euphoria invaded his mind. Part of him
realized he should be alarmed, but the other part of him, the one
that was tired of jumping at shadows every minute of every day,
welcomed this feeling with open arms.

He was vaguely aware of being shaken.
Then the blonde android grabbing his arm. Her fingers, too strong
to be human, dug into his flesh as though she wanted to shatter his
bones. Sweat broke out on his skin.

Before Na’varr could react,
Brom ripped the androids head off with a feline growl. With a
curse, Brom hauled him to his feet. “Shake this off,
captain.”

Na’varr blinked and swayed.
The part of him that always kept steel control reasserted itself.
And it was pissed. “Get that bastard.” His words were spoken in a
guttural command he didn’t recognize.

The hybrid didn’t hesitate. He moved
them forward through the room, to the door the coward had exited
through. Brom had his blaster out and ready to fire while Na’varr
still struggled with his blurred vision. What the hell had they
given him?

“He went down
here.”

“Go.” Na’varr pushed Brom
off him. “Bring him to me.”

“You got it, boss.” The
feral drive of the hunt gleamed in the hybrid’s eyes.

Na’varr’s unsteady legs made leaning
against the wall necessary. The sweet ache of euphoria threatened
to drown him again and he ruthlessly pushed it away.

A human man screamed and Na’varr’s
sword was drawn at the ready. He didn’t want to shoot since his
hand wasn’t steady enough. The captain shook his head in an attempt
to clear it.

“I swear it’s the real
deal, man.” Brom yanked a struggling and blubbering Bellamy into
the hallway. His second in command forced the man to kneel at
Na’varr’s feet and the pirate captain pointed his blade at the
man’s black heart.

“Listen, Na’varr, I know
who you are for real, okay? You’re a prince. This guy is your
hybrid. You’ve got some princess you’ve kidnapped. I know
everything, but I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

“Mostly truth.” Brom
stepped back from Bellamy and trained his pistol on the bastard’s
head. “Move and they’ll have to redecorate your hall in
brain-matter-gray. What the fuck did you give him?”

Bellamy gulped. “Okay, my
plan was to blackmail you, okay? The drug I gave you is called
Sugar. It’s something we give our clients to loosen them up if
they’re nervous. Completely legal here. Check the chemical
possessions lists. I ain’t doin’ anything wrong.”

“Except for that whole
using it to blackmail your clients thing.” Brom pressed the barrel
of his blaster against the back of Bellamy’s head and the man shut
his eyes in abject terror. “If we checked, I’m sure we’d find the
dosage you gave Na’varr to be well outside the recommended dosage.”
The hybrid smirked. “What would your government think of your
operation if they realized you’d tried to poison a Prince of the
Andovian Republic?”

“It wasn’t poison,” Bellamy
gasped out.

Slow understanding made its
way through Na’varr’s brain. “Blackmail is how you got your
android.”

Bellamy nodded in
desperation, his watery stare annoying to behold. “Yes.”

“Too bad about her head,
though.” Brom smirked behind the man and put his weapon
away.

“Her head?” Bellamy turned
his body toward Brom and Na’varr put the point of the laz blade on
the asshole’s chin. The sizzle of flesh hit at the same time
Bellamy screamed and jerked away.

“Sorry, my hand is a bit
unsteady after your little prank.” Na’varr glanced at his hybrid.
“Hold him. I’d keep your head up, Bellamy, or my blade will taste
your flesh again. Trust me, it’s hungry for your blood.”

Bellamy made a strangled
cry in his throat, and Brom gripped the little weasel’s shoulders,
keeping him in a kneeling position. Na’varr got down on his level
and smirked at the stench of fear. “Remind me. You were going to
take me and put me in a compromising situation for
what
purpose?” The blade
hovered close, it’s specially tempered surface reacting to the
sweat dripping from Bellamy’s chin. With every drop, the moisture
sizzled and cracked off the blade edge.

Bellamy’s Adam’s apple
bobbled. “I figured you had something you’d trade for me keeping my
mouth shut, man. I swear it. That’s it. You’re a prince, right? So
you’ve got to have money.”

Na’varr’s smile widened and
his relief was immediate. This creep was just a greedy little shit
and had nothing to do with his family. “You figured wrong, Mr.
Davies. I’m a prince without land, title, or resources.
Blackmailing me would bring you nothing. I’m also a space pirate, a
mercenary for hire. In what world would having me in compromising
positions detract from that reputation?”

Brom growled and Bellamy
arched his lower body away from the hybrid. “I got it. Stupid idea,
right? Look, just call off your dog, cat, whatever. You can have
the coil for half price, okay?”

Na’varr tilted his head.
“You poisoned me. Called my second in command a...” Na’varr met
Brom’s amused gaze. “Dog, was it?” He looked back to the shady
dealer. “I’m a fair man. One quarter of the original asking
price.”

The man winced but nodded immediately.
Brom released him and stepped away.

“The credits will be
transferred to your account upon our departure from your
atmosphere. If you mention you met me, saw me, had anything to do
with the Andovian Prince or the Mercenary Captain, you’ll be
looking over your shoulder for the rest of your short
life.”

“I won’t. I swear it.” He
stood slowly and Brom stepped close enough to whisper something.
Bellamy’s color washed out to a sickly white.