Kissed by Smoke (21 page)

That tore it.

In one move she slammed the hawker against
the side of the nearest building, her forearm against his throat.
He gasped for air, struggling against her powerful hold, but the
scrawny hawker was no match for the brain implants of a Syndicate
Captain.

“Listen you piece of trash,” she snarled.
“The last thing I’m interested in is cooking for some pathetic man.
I’m here to do a job and you are in my way. If you know what’s good
for you, you’ll find yourself half-way across the planet and real
quick-like. Feel me?”

The hawker nodded so hard his dented bowler
hat tumbled off his head, leaving the long, greasy strands of his
hair to whip about in the wind. Zala snarled. Planet dwellers could
just be so …unhygienic.

She let the man sink to the ground. “And by
the way, you can call me Captain.”

She took certain satisfaction in watching
the blood drain from the man’s face. Insulting a Syndicate Captain
meant Instant Erasure, if the Captain so desired. Some called Zala
soft, but frankly she’d never seen the point in killing someone
simply because they pissed her off. A lot more fun to toy with
them. Sometimes watching a grown man wet his pants was the
highlight of her day. Especially chauvinist dogs like the
hawker.

Without a second glance, she strode down the
street toward the designated meeting place. It was time to focus.
She had a job to do.

* * *

Zala sank into the chair opposite her
contact. He was a middle-aged man. Weathered and ragged. He could
easily pass for a local. A farmer, maybe. In fact, he was something
far more deadly: A Syndicate spy.

She tugged her own battered cloak around her
self-consciously. She was glad Audley had made her wear it,
otherwise she’d have stuck out like a sore thumb. The last thing
she needed was to get demoted for exposing one of the Syndicate’s
golden boys.

“Where’s your Rider?” the man asked.

She gave him a weak smile. “I’m it.”

He looked her up and down. “You’re not a
Rider. You’re a Captain.”

Rider’s were like the circuit judges of the
old-Earth West, travelling from planet to planet administering
justice and sometimes punishment.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

He snorted. “Maybe on a small ship, but
you’re a Lei.” He nodded to the tattoo half hidden by her sleek,
midnight-blue hair. “I recognize the sigil.”

Zala barely resisted touching her right
temple. Each highborn family had a specific sigil which was
tattooed on their children at birth. As the child grew it was added
to and embellished until he or she reached majority. Zala’s began
at her right temple and curled up and over her right eye. It was
subtle and beautiful, but she still kept her bangs long to hide the
mark.

“Well, I run a small ship.”

He whistled. “Who’d you piss off?”

She gritted her teeth. How dare he question
her? Still, she swallowed her pride. Men like him were outside
Syndicate hierarchy.

“Did you find what I came for?” she changed
the subject.

He nodded. “Yep. Got it all ready for
you.”

“Great. I’d like to get it on my ship as
soon as possible.”

“You know,” he said, leaning back in his
chair. “Finding and delivering such… parcels is usually a Rider’s
job, not mine.”

“And I appreciate the favor.”

The smile that quirked his thin lips was not
a pleasant one. “I don’t do favors free. I think the House Lei is
going to owe me one.”

That did it. In a flash she was around the
table, her hand against the side of his throat. To anyone looking
it would appear as though she were flirting with him, caressing
him. In actuality, she knew very well he could feel the prick of
the hypo against his neck. Not that she needed it. She could have
snapped his neck like a twig, but that would bring questions.

“One wrong move and I flood your system with
ventris. You’ll be dead in seconds, but those seconds will be
filled with so much agony, you’ll be glad to die.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would. You may be outside the Laws of
Hierarchy, but I am a Lei. We created those laws.” She smiled a
little at the smell of his fear. She wondered when such a man as he
was had last been afraid. “Besides, ventris is completely
untraceable. They would assume you’d died of a heart attack.”

He swallowed. “Fine. The package is yours.
No favor owed.”

“Good. Now where do I find the package?”

“Out back. A crate in the shed. It’s
marked.” Sweat glistened on his brow. “Now would you get that thing
away from me?”

She leaned down, her breath a whisper in his
ear. “The Syndicate thanks you for your service, Thomas
Jaquinus.”

“How did you know my name? Oh, shi… “

But he had no time to finish the word as the
needle plunged into the side of his neck, sending the poison
shooting into his veins. He was dead in seconds.

* * *

“Dang, that’s one heavy-ass box. What’s in
that thing?” Audley collapsed on top of said box and fanned himself
with a bright red handkerchief.

Zala smiled. “Something important to our
future.”

Audley quirked a brow at that. “Care to
explain, sir?”

“Soon. For now, get this crate airborn. I
want to be as far away from Omicron 5 as possible. And fast.”

“Oh, crap. Who’d you piss off now?”

Zala crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
Not a very Captainly move, but she and Audley went back a long way.
He didn’t respect her even when she was in full captain mode, so
there was no point worrying about her image being tarnished.

“Fine,” he raised his hands in mock
surrender, a laugh teasing the corners of his mouth. “I’ll get this
rust bucket in the air. You think we’re going to have any
problems?”

“I hope not.” If they did, there’d be hell
to pay. She might be a scion of House Lei, but that wouldn’t save
her from a court martial.

Audley wandered off to the bridge mumbling
about cluster-fraks. Zala couldn’t exactly disagree with that one.
She was taking a huge chance, but as far as she was concerned the
ends justified the means.

And those means were in the box sitting in
her cargo bay. “You better be worth it,” she said softly to the box
before following Audley to the bridge.

* * *

Fortunately the Chancellor of Omicron 5 had
sent them on their way with a cheery, “Merry Solstice.” Zala got
the feeling he was glad to be rid of them. Not every world welcomed
the Syndicate Riders with open arms.

“You know today is supposed to be a holiday,
right, Captain? I’m pretty sure my contract states I get today
off.” Audley had pulled out a peppermint stick from goddess knew
where and was sucking away at the thing totally against
regulations.

“Aud, you don’t have a contract.”

“Oh, right. “ He turned back to the
viewscreen for a moment before whirling around to face her again.
“Still, we should do something special. You know, to celebrate the
day.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Cook something?”

“It’s not like I have a Solstice goose in
the galley. We’re on flight rations.”

The Syndicate didn’t waste money on good
food for a lowly bit of space junk like them. Not even for
Solstice. Not even if one of them was a Lei.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do for Solstice.
You fly the damn ship and I’ll go open that box in the cargo
bay.”

“You are no fun.” Audley pulled a Santa hat
out of one of the many pockets on his flight pants and yanked it
down over his dreads. “I, for one, am getting into the Solstice
spirit.” He punched a button and old-Earth Christmas music spilled
from the ship-wide intercom.

Zala barely restrained a groan. If this kept
up she was going to need earplugs. “You know. With my implants I
could kill you with my brain.”

Audley didn’t turn around. Instead, he stuck
up his middle finger and waved it around.

On any other ship it would have gotten him
shot. Zala just laughed and headed for the cargo bay.

* * *

The box wasn’t as easy to open as she’d
first thought. The outside was a simple wooden construction easily
demolished. Inside? Not so much.

It was some kind of stasis box. She’d seen
the Syndicate use similar boxes to transport high-risk clients
between planets. Those boxes were big and luxurious in
comparison.

Her fingers danced over the compu-pad on the
side of the stasis box. She hadn’t had time to get the security
code from Jaquinus, but House Lei had its own codes. Codes that
opened pretty much anything.

She punched in her code. Nothing.

A frown creased Zala’s brow. There was one
person whose code could open the box. A smile replaced the frown.
Her mother would have a fit if she knew Zala not only had the
precious master code of House Lei, but was about to use it for
something very underhanded. She dredged up the memory of her
mother’s delicate fingers flying over a code pad and punched in the
new code. There was a pause, then the light on the box turned
green.

Zala took a step back as the lid on the
stasis box swung open. She waited patiently for the person inside
to wake up.

“What the hell are you wearing?” She
couldn’t help it. Despite her training, Zala had led a fairly
insular life before joining the Riders. And since the Riders, most
of the worlds she’d been assigned to had been surprisingly
conservative for the twenty-second century. She’d never seen
anything like the person stepping out of that stasis box.

The man, it was definitely a man, smoothed
his hands down the sides of his outfit before giving her a baffled
look. “Who are you?”

“Is that a dress?”

“Uh, yeah.” His voice was a smooth, throaty
baritone. “Obviously. I was at a party.” As if that explained
everything. “Now, who are you?”

Zala just gaped at him. The men of Hiberon
were known for their fondness for kilts. The Islamites of New
Mecca, both men and women, wore long, white robes. Trousers of any
kind were forbidden on world. But what the man before her was
wearing was nothing like that.

“You’re wearing a dress.” Not just any
dress, but a shimmering red satin sheath dress. The kind she’d have
killed for, but would have never had the courage to wear.

He narrowed his eyes and stepped out of the
box. Zala’s eyes went straight to his feet. He was wearing a pair
of high-heeled Mary Janes covered in sparkling crystals and
sapphires. She’d never seen anything like them outside an old-Earth
museum.

He glanced down at his shoes, then back up
at Zala. “I had them specially designed. Gorgeous aren’t they? Now,
who the hell are you and where the hell am I?” He propped his fists
on hips and all but tapped his foot.

That did it. Zala drew back her shoulders,
body slamming to attention. “I am Captain Zala Lei of the starship
Justice.”

One perfectly groomed eyebrow went up. “This
is a Rider ship?”

“Yes.”

His jaw hardened. “On what charge?”

“What?”

“On what charge are you arresting me?”

Zala blinked. “Um. No charge.”

“Excuse me?” He strode across the room, his
heels making a sharp click against the steel plates of the cargo
bay. He paused inches away from her.

Zala licked her lips and desperately
resisted the blush that threatened to flood her fair skin. His
nearness unnerved her. She was used to being surrounded by slight
men with soft voices, groomed from birth as the ultimate gentleman.
Despite wearing a dress and fraking glittery high heels, the man in
front of her was probably one of the most masculine men she’d ever
seen in her life.

She swallowed hard. “I said, you’re not
under arrest.”

“Then why did one of your spy goons inject
me and stick me in that box? You know as well as I do the Syndicate
would like nothing more than to put me away for good.”

He was right about that. Luckily for him,
the Syndicate didn’t know that the most wanted “terrorist” in the
galaxy was the man standing before her in a sexy cocktail dress and
glittery heels. Holy hell.

“Because I needed to get to you before the
Syndicate did. I need your help.”

That got him. “My help?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it in my
quarters. By the way, do you have a name?” She knew who he was, or
rather, what he was, but no one knew his name. Even the Syndicate
spy hadn’t figured out that one.

“You can call me Xander.”

“Xander.” She rolled the name around on her
tongue. Double sexy. Then she felt like smacking herself upside the
head. One job. She needed him for one job. That was it. “Do you
want to change first? Audley’s bigger than you, but I’m sure
something of his will work.”

“Why would I want to change? I’m perfectly
comfortable.”

“In a cocktail dress?”

He shrugged. “You’re wearing pants.”

He had her there. She suddenly realized how
ridiculous it all was. Who cared what he was wearing? “What about
the heels? Don’t your feet hurt?”

Her mother was constantly roping her into
stupid balls and such. Even a lowly scion of House Lei had to doll
up on such occasions which meant cramming her feet into heels so
high she was nearly crippled.

“Honey,” he said with a grin, “I brought
down House Lodai in a pair of four-inch heels. I think I’ll be
fine.”

* * *

“You seriously want me to murder Santa
Claus?”

Zala could understand the incredulity in
Xander’s voice. Only a few worlds still celebrated Christmas. Most
of them had switched to a sort of Christmas/Yule/Hanukkah mash-up
they collectively called Solstice. Still, Santa Claus was
universally loved. He just flew a spaceship now instead of a sleigh
with reindeer.

“He’s not a real Santa Claus,” she reminded
him, an edge of impatience creeping into her voice. “His name is
Tannen. He’s a serial rapist posing as Santa Claus to avoid
detection.”