Virgin (22 page)

“He could be in a casino and just won the jackpot,” Diokut suggested.

“Yes, but how likely is that?” Waroun argued. “Winning is
very
hard to do here. They don’t just give stuff away, you know.”

“Well, let’s not stand around here wondering,” Dax said decisively. “Those combadges have homing beacons in them. Passengers have wandered off before.”

“And we’ve always found them,” Waroun added. “Whether they wanted to be found or not!”

“Unless he or someone else has pitched his badge,” Ava said.

Waroun snorted. “I dare anyone else to find it underneath all that hair. Besides, if he hadn’t wanted to be found, he wouldn’t have responded when Dax called him.”

Ava was about to point out that having won a jackpot might have been enough to make Quinn reconsider that decision when Dax pulled yet another device out of his pocket. He checked the settings and pointed toward the door. “Looks like he’s somewhere in that direction.”

Waroun snickered. “How convenient.”

“You might try calling him again,” Teke said. “He might have tripped over his hairy feet and not been able to respond right away.”

Dax did as Teke suggested, but there was still silence on the other end of the link. “Waroun and I can handle this while the rest of you have dinner. Roncas can give you directions, or if you want to wait for Threld, which might be the best idea, I’m sure he’d be happy to—”

“Do what?” Threldigan said, popping up behind Dax. Waroun let out a shriek, while Ava bit back a scream.

Dax gritted his teeth. “I really hate it when you do that.”

“Keeps you on your toes,” Threldigan said with a saucy grin.

Diokut stared at him, openmouthed. “How did you—”

“He won’t tell you,” Waroun said. “And trust me, we’ve asked him a million times. Won’t say whether he teleports himself or can become invisible.
Most
annoying!”

Threldigan shrugged. “Magicians never reveal their secrets.”

Ava, for one, had been looking right at Dax—how could she ever take her eyes off him again?—when Threldigan appeared behind him, seeming to materialize out of thin air. “But is it a trick or something you can actually
do
? As a Mordrial, I mean.”

Threldigan swept forward to take Ava’s hand. Bringing it to his lips, he bestowed a sensuous kiss on her fingertips. “Ah, but that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

“Come on, Ava.” Dax snatched her hand away from Threldigan. “None of that, you old smoothie. She’s mine now.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps I should test her resolve. I wouldn’t want my best friend falling for a woman who isn’t steadfast in her affections.”

Waroun glared at Threldigan to the point that his eyes protruded beyond the reach of their lids and his lower lip turned an interesting shade of green. “I’m not sure that’s the sort of thing best friends are supposed to do. And besides, he’s
my
best friend, not yours, and I think he and the Fish Lady were made for each other!”

Ava sensed an altercation in the making. “Um, aren’t we supposed to be finding Quinn—or, barring that, someplace to eat?”

Dax bit his lip as his eyes darted back and forth between Threldigan, Waroun, and Ava. Apparently deciding that it wasn’t safe to leave anyone behind, he turned and headed for the door. Dragging Ava behind him, he motioned for the others to follow.

The pheromone effect hit Ava like a quadruple dose of Sholerian cream with a little
snard
mixed in for good measure. Dax already had her hand in a firm grip but squeezed it gently. “Just hang on,” he said. “We’ll be away from here soon.”

Ava nodded, but it was all she could do to keep walking. Moisture coated her inner thighs, and if Dax had suggested that he carry her while impaled on his dick, she would have jumped into his arms. Her mind made the short hop to sucking his cock and suddenly, she really
couldn’t
walk.

“Dax,” she gasped. “I
need
you.”

Dax paused only briefly and the next thing Ava knew, she was riding him piggyback down the avenue. Ava had never fully appreciated the power in his body, but Dax carried her as easily as a child, his long legs striding onward while the others followed his lead. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face in his hair and inhaled his comforting scent. She tried not to think about the wet spot she made on his shirt.

As they moved further from the brothel district, the pheromone effect began to fade. Threldigan’s words, which she had ignored at the time, revisited her. So, he thought she wasn’t steadfast in her affections, did he? Anger surfaced briefly, only to be squashed beneath the weight of the truth. Having run out on two men now, there was no denying that her history couldn’t support a claim to constancy.

Perhaps Dax
was
risking more than his virtue in hooking up with her. Part of her wanted to prove Threldigan wrong, but another part—the more realistic part—feared that he was perfectly justified.

Dax… He was a treasure beyond price. She knew that now, but would she be allowed to keep such a prize? She
wanted
to keep him, but was she worthy of him?

She felt his strength of purpose and dedication and wondered if Threldigan had ever possessed even a tenth of Dax’s integrity. While the others were chattering on about what could have become of Quinn, Dax was actively engaged in trying to find him. He might have tried to act the part of a bad boy but it simply didn’t ring true. Dax was a conscientious man at heart and took his responsibilities very seriously. Ava had seen that, and she’d seen the softer side of him as well. He hadn’t fussed when confronted with her need. He’d acted in the best possible way, doing what he could to help her but not letting her deter him from his purpose.

Quiet competence was what Dax possessed. He wasn’t flashy or flamboyant or cocky; he was simply in charge. There was no questioning his authority on his ship, and no one questioned it on Rhylos, either. They might have teased him about losing his virginity, but they respected him no less.

They certainly couldn’t hold it against him now that he had become a man in every sense of the word. On the contrary, Ava thought he might have earned greater respect for having waited for… what? For her? She felt privileged to be the one to bring him into the light, but—

Without warning, Ava’s thoughts took an abrupt turn. She felt like the luckiest woman who ever lived. Raising her head, she saw that they had entered a new district. Glittering casinos stretched into the distance like a strand of diamonds, and Ava knew she had only to pass through their portals to become the richest woman on the planet. Rock bands played on stages set in the middle of each block, and people danced in the street as though they hadn’t a care in the world. Food vendors were interspersed between the casinos, their aromas as compelling as the need to try her luck. Shops of every kind waited impatiently to take money from anyone lucky enough to beat the odds and actually win something.

“I think you can put me down now,” Ava said in Dax’s ear.

“Not sure I want to.” Dax didn’t interfere as she slid off his back. Stopping to consult his tracking device, he pointed it at a throng of dancers. “He’s around here somewhere.”

Ava gaped at the crowd. “How will we ever find him here?”

“That’s easy,” Waroun said. “We just whistle and yell: Here, Quinn!”

“He’s not a dog, Waroun. I don’t think that will work.”

Dax ignored this exchange and continued onward. Following the combadge signal like a bloodhound on the scent, he passed right through the hordes of music lovers. The band was one Ava had actually heard of, and she paused to watch the show.

There was a time when Ava had drooled over the lead guitar player, but having Dax around lessened his appeal considerably. He was still attractive, though, if only because of his long black hair—something Ava had always found irresistible. Why she had ever run off with Lars, who wore his hair short to the point of being nearly shaved, was a mystery. It was as if she’d been brainwashed or drugged into finding him hunky enough to want to live with him, but the effect had worn off as quickly as the pheromones upon leaving the brothel district.

This realization struck her with the force of a Darconian’s tail.
Had
she been drugged? The effects of Rhylosian advertising were very similar to what she’d felt back then, but why would Lars have felt the need to do such a thing? And if he had, why hadn’t he kept it up?

She had no proof, but the notion took root in her mind and began to grow. If true, it would certainly explain a great deal—and make her seem far less capricious. Had she ever hit on this idea before, it would have seemed ridiculous, but now, having spent some time at the mercy of the no-holds-barred approach to commerce on Rhylos, she wasn’t so sure.

The more she thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. She had met Lars while in town shopping for building supplies when she and Russ were remodeling the house they shared. Lars had offered to help load her speeder, and she’d been inexplicably smitten. Russ must have suspected she was under the influence of something, otherwise he wouldn’t have said he’d wait for her when she told him she was leaving him and Rutara forever. Perhaps he guessed that it would wear off someday, and she’d come back to him.

Five years. If Lars had been drugging her the whole time, that would explain why she’d put up with him for so long. Whatever he’d used couldn’t have been cheap, which would also explain why he’d quit giving it to her. After his money ran out, he simply didn’t have the wherewithal to continue, unless he started stealing, and Lars wasn’t smart enough to be a good criminal, which is to say, one who wouldn’t get caught.

Ava thought furiously as they threaded their way through the crowd. Lars had been annoying as hell, but had always managed to talk her into staying. But had it all been talk, or was it something else? The day she finally left him, she’d asked him to make her want to stay, and he couldn’t do it. The idea was far-fetched but made sense, except for one tiny little thing: motive. Ava had no money or important connections. In the long run, Lars had gained very little. He might have truly loved her, but it certainly didn’t show.

Realizing she would probably never know the truth, she glanced about, looking for Dax. She spotted him just as he turned down the closest thing Rhylos had to a dark alley. Threldigan waved at her, and she jogged toward the men who were clustered near a dark niche. “Have you found Quinn?”

Dax shook his head as he stooped down to retrieve a small bundle. “Just taking a little side trip.”

“I’m surprised the street sweepers haven’t picked him up,” Threldigan said. “Though that could be what happened to Quinn.”

“What?” Ava said. “Picked who up?”

“Him.” Dax glanced at the squirming ball of fur he held against his chest. A curly blond head emerged from beneath his arms and began licking his neck.

“A puppy!” Ava exclaimed.

“A very
hungry
puppy,” Dax amended. “He’s nothing but bones and a little fur.”

“Are you sure it’s a he?”

“Quite sure.” Dax held the puppy up with its belly aimed toward her.

Ava nodded. “Yep, it’s a boy.”

Dax shifted the dog to the crook of his left arm and gestured with the tracking module. “Quinn is over that way,” he said and started walking.

“You’re keeping him?” Teke squeaked.

“Of course,” said Dax. “Whoever he belongs to—if he belongs to anyone—obviously isn’t taking very good care of him. I can’t just leave him here.”

Ava stood rooted to the spot, staring at Dax’s retreating figure with openmouthed surprise. “Some bad boy
you
are.”

She had been speaking to herself, but Waroun apparently heard her. “Told you it was all an act. He’s got the softest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Ava nodded, still slightly flabbergasted by the sudden turn of events. A guy who picked up stray puppies couldn’t be all bad—whether it was an act or not. Then she glanced around at his odd assortment of passengers and realized that in one way or another, they were
all
strays. She was the most lost and homeless of the bunch.

Quickening her pace, she caught up with Dax, who was speaking softly to the puppy.

He handed her the tracking device. “Here, hold this for a second.”

Dax pulled a small piece of jerky from one of his pockets and fed it to the dog, who gobbled it down with gusto.

Ava shook her head in wonder. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever known who would have tracking equipment and dog treats on him at all times. You must have been a Boy Scout.”

Dax flashed her a boyish grin. “Got my Eagle when I was fifteen.”

“I was only kidding,” Ava said dryly. “Do you mean to say you really
were
a Boy Scout?”

“Yep. I can start a fire with two sticks and everything.”

“You did that aboard a starship? No, wait. Scouting is an Earth custom—how did you—”