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  “What happened?” asked Ryker.

  The older man exchanged a trouble glance with the others. “223 and his men recently brought down several ships with newer technology. On them, he found the supplies needed to build a weapon far more lethal than anything seen before on Dragath25 or back home. He’s determined to make the Council pay for what they did to him and his family.”

  “What did they do to him?” The undisciplined words spilled from Jade before she could think better of it.

  Rufus shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. But Rafi met her stare head-on, showing the steel at his core once more. “Some of the experiments your Council had him work on were…dangerous. They gave him a vaccine and he thought he took enough precautions, but Dragath25 elements are unstable and some of the material stayed on his skin. Then, he’d come home. Kiss his wife, hold his son. Over time, he poisoned them. They died slowly. Painfully.”

  “Janus hell.” Ryker’s utterance was low, but clear.

  Jade wondered if he was thinking of the parallels with his own family. Like 223, he’d lost those he loved. Unlike 223, however, he hadn’t allowed that loss to turn him murderous and cruel.

  “Their deaths,” continued Rafi, “made 223 even more loyal to the Council since they were the only family he had left.” Jade hid a flinch, the kid’s words hitting a little too close to home. “Until he discovered his employers had known about the risk to his kin all along, but kept the information to themselves to ensure he continued working.”

  Silence descended. It was hard to pity a monster, but Jade came close.

  Rufus cleared his throat. “They say it was then that 223’s grief slid into something darker. But the Council was already onto him. With zero interest in housing a potential threat in their midst, they shipped him off to Dragath25, thinking they’d won. But 223 was patient and willing to play the long game.”

  “He’s done waiting now.” Rafi leaned forward, his voice tight. “He’s been testing his weapon on us. At first, just a few at a time. Small groups of slaves disappearing never to be seen again, but recently…” He swallowed hard, wrestling for control. “Recently, his ambitions have grown. When we were in the room where…where you found us”—his voice shook—“I heard the guards. Once the weapon is operational, 223 intends to start pointing it at entire swaths of Dragath25. He wants to make sure his weapon has the power to obliterate entire populations. Then, he’ll turn it on New Earth.”

  “W-we’re doomed.” Marika’s soft voice wobbled as she sobbed. Her words, the first Jade had heard her utter.

  Unsure how to soothe any of them, or if she even should try, her fingers clenched by her sides. She’d been complicit in this horror.

  It was too much.

  Wrenching to her feet, she surveyed the narrow opening at the back of the cave. “I will investigate the rest of the tunnel. Make sure it is safe.” Still clutching the blanket, she grabbed a handful of additional supplies to take with her.

  “There’s no back exit that way. Grif and I checked when we first arrived.” Confusion laced Ryker’s voice, her sudden decision to explore seemingly out of nowhere.

  She didn’t care. “Good to know.”

  He rose to his feet, suspicion seeping into his gaze. “Whatever you think you need to do, it can wait. We both need to be here.”

  She rose to her full height, her hand inching toward her knife. “You seem under the mistaken impression I was asking.”

  Familiar tension crackled between them.

  The others’ gazes ping-ponged back and forth, wide-eyed and worried.

  But Ryker surprised her once more, his lips flatlining as his palms flung outward and he backed off rather than ramp up their confrontation. “Fine. Have at it. You are robot girl, after all. I forgot nothing affects you. I’ll stay here with them.”

  “Exactly as it should be.” Without another word—or glance at the others scattered on the ground looking so broken and lost—she unsheathed her knife and strode toward the shadows.

  That was, after all, what she knew best.

  14

  Where the hell was she?

  Raising his ax, footsteps silent and deliberate as his back slid against the wall, Ryker glided through the narrow space of the tunnel and told himself he was a fool for even looking. She was long gone by now. Likely on her way to the weapon or whatever hideout she’d scoped out before the mission began.

  He’d seen her eyes. She’d been desperate to bolt.

  He should have chased after her, but that would have meant an ugly confrontation and, Janus help him, after the way she’d cared for Rufus and gotten the man back on his feet, he just couldn’t.

  But now she was gone and the same seething rage thrashed through him as when she’d left him manacled in that cell.

  With a growl, he descended deeper into the narrow tunnel.

  The others were settled, the worst of their wounds cleaned and covered with first aid sealant. There was little he could do for their broken souls.

  Resistance fighters and their families given by the Council to 223 to use as slaves? Despite what he’d been through, he could still barely process it.

  Except now that he’d secured the others safely for the short term, questions about the future loomed. Namely, how the fuck he was going to keep these people alive and still find Grif and the weapon? His Commander and team would come eventually, but he needed help now.

  Truth be told, the assassin wasn’t the only one experiencing the strong urge to bolt.

  A faint scraping sound jerked him from his thoughts—and gave him his first clue that he might be off base with regard to Jade’s certain departure.

  He lunged around the narrow corner. “What in the hell?”

  She was perched on a narrow outcropping, red dust and debris raining down from a large crevice in the ceiling, her arms shaking as she brandished a large rock overhead.

  Or tried to.

  At the sound of his arrival, her body tensed and she tipped to the side.

  With a curse, he dropped his ax and bounded forward, arms outstretched to catch her. “I’ve got you.”

  But it proved unnecessary. Per usual.

  In the next instant, she righted herself. Shoving the substantial rock into a crack and plugging a fair bit of the hole as if she’d never lost her balance to begin with.

  The heady relief of learning she was safe lasted all of two heartbeats. Renewed anger hit next.

  “What the hell are you doing up there?” Hands still raised uselessly in the air, he cursed himself a thousand times over for his idiotic protective urges when it came to her.

  Above, she bristled. “I don’t recall making you my keeper.”

  “Yet, here I am.” He spread his arms wide.

  Without another word, she swooped up something by her feet and shoved it into the crack. He caught a good glimpse though before it disappeared. A tangle of wires, foil covering from one of their energy bars, and the heat warmer from a ripped open emergency blanket wrapped together.

  A crude bomb.

  She’d been busy.

  He tried not to be too impressed—and failed. Even from a brief glimpse, the device appeared well made, especially given how little she had to work with. Still, he could show her a trick he’d learned from his Commander’s woman that used a component found in Dragath25 soil to amplify such explosions. If he were so inclined. Which he wasn’t.

  “Where are the others?” she asked at last. Full frost. And no mention of the bomb she’d just tucked away in her hidey-hole. The woman could be icier than Jupiter in arctic winter season. Unless she’s in your arms and your cock’s deep inside her. Then, she’s molten heat.

  He shoved the recollection aside and played along. “They’re asleep.”

  A long pause, the tension crackling between them.

  Interestingly, it was she who spoke first. “I don’t know how long this site will have to serve as a hideout, but I thought it wise to plug all the holes I found before
they became potential problems. I know the others won’t be able to do it themselves once we are gone.”

  A low tug in his belly as he realized there was a second reason for her being on that ledge. She acted so hard and aloof. Could she actually care?

  He cleared his throat, his anger trickling away. “It’s also a nice excuse to get some alone time.”

  She stilled at his words. “Am I that transparent?”

  “Not to all.” He couldn’t help the thread of pride in his tone. The woman was near impossible to read, but he was finally learning.

  “I’m not used to…so much time with others,” she acknowledged. She picked up another large stone. One he couldn’t quite imagine how she’d gotten on the ledge in the first place.

  He wondered how many crude bombs she’d hidden as she shored up the place. Good thing he was increasingly confident she was only interested in using such devices on 223 and his men—and not the people she’d agreed to help him protect.

  “I hear you,” he told her. “I spent two planetary rotations, twenty-four seven in a confined space with a bunch of crewmates. It can be a lot.” For some reason, he felt the need to add, “But it can be nice, too, to have others around. In small increments. Being alone isn’t always great, either.”

  Another subtle pause in her work, so slight he might have missed if it he hadn’t been watching closely. Then, arms raised high, defined biceps trembling, she shoved the rock into the crack. Filled more of the gap. “I honestly don’t know any other way.”

  Her low words made his chest go tight.

  “Well, now you’ve got your chance. Whether you want it or not.” He tried to lighten the mood.

  She surveyed her work. “You’re good at it though. Being with others.”

  His heart thumped against his ribs. “I was once.” His thumb went to the familiar carving, the dips and valleys gutting him, even as they soothed. His assassin clearly had no clue how badly he wanted to hightail it the hell away from the expectations in the others’ eyes, a responsibility he’d managed to avoid for two long planetary rotations.

  “You still are,” she said. “Even if you wish to be anywhere else.”

  Or maybe she did see straight through him, after all.

  Without warning, she launched herself off the edge, flipping in midair.

  His gut hadn’t even finished plunging to his toes when she landed in a crouch at his feet, light as a kothi cat.

  “Holy Janus, assassin. Some warning next time. I—” He stiffened as she stood to face him fully. “What in the hell happened to you?”

  Tracks of blood marked the left side of her face—the side he hadn’t been able to see while she was above.

  She used her forearm to swipe at her skin. “It’s nothing. A slight miscalculation.”

  “It’s not nothing.” Batting aside her hand, he cupped her cheek, swiveling her head to the side as he searched for the source of the blood. Her skin was as damn silky as he remembered. She’d given herself a good scrubbing and wiped away most of the Dragath dust, just as he had, but the pale pearl of her skin only made the trail of crimson stand out.

  “One of the stones slipped from my hands, a sharp piece striking my scalp.” Her voice was huskier than it had been moments before. “It will stop bleeding soon enough.”

  The itch beneath his skin grew. He didn’t like the way she simply dismissed her wound. Sure, a cut at the scalp wouldn’t kill her, but it had to hurt.

  He’d admired her toughness from the start, but something about it was beginning to irk. Especially how she just pushed her pain aside like it didn’t matter. Like it wasn’t worth even noticing.

  Tearing a piece of cloth from his covering, he swiped at the blood. “When we get back to the entrance, you should wash it with water and then use some first aid sealant.”

  “I am familiar with how to treat a wound. You can let go now.” But she didn’t break away. Or go for his trachea.

  He dropped his hand. But the imprint of her remained, a heated brand against his palm.

  Chaining, be damned. Plan, be damned. He wanted her still. And he was sick of pretending otherwise.

  Their eyes locked, their chests rising and falling in unison, two magnets that had no business drawing ever closer.

  “You should back away from me now.” It was she who broke the raw silence, her pupils dilated, her chest rising fast.

  “Should I?” He stepped farther into her space, towering over her, his chest a hairbreadth from her own.

  “You’ve come looking for a fight.” She held his gaze, her body tight as a bow.

  “What I’m looking for,” he admitted, “is any damn reason just to lay my hands on you.”

  Emerald eyes flared with heat.

  His words sizzled between them, singeing the air.

  She licked her lips. He followed the pink-kitten tongue, his cock twitching.

  “We agreed on the one time,” she said.

  “We agreed the sex would have no bearing on what came next. We never specified a number.”

  Her stare fused with his and he had the clear thought: once again he’d walked his idiotic, hotheaded self to the edge of a precipice without even realizing how steep the drop.

  “Do it then, felon,” she whispered. “Lay your hands on me. I dare you.”

  15

  Ryker didn’t hesitate. His palms seized her forearms and he dragged her against him. “You drive me crazy.”

  His mouth went straight to the base of her neck, nipping, sucking. He fucking wanted to devour her. Couldn’t get enough of that honey and frost taste.

  Her fingers threaded in his hair, holding him to her, the slight sting turning him on even more.

  “This is the last time, felon.” Her voice was breathless. So different from the usual ice queen.

  He trailed his tongue over the hollow of her throat. “Agreed. We get it out of our system. Then, move on.”

  “A sound plan.” She slipped her hands beneath his waistband, palming his dick in one hand while her other squeezed his ass. Hard.

  He let out a groan, fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head. Shoving at the drawstring of his pants, then hers, he dragged the frayed material down her lean thighs. She kicked her legs, working the material down farther.

  Frantic. The need in them a wild urge that would not be tamed. Desperate. Before either changed their mind or came to their senses.

  He palmed her ass, lifted her. Careful to keep her back from the sharp rocks—the last thing he wanted was to bring her more pain. He raised her until they fit perfectly, his cock poised at the entrance to heaven.

  Exactly where he’d wanted to be since she rolled off him in that damn cell and then chained his ass to the wall.

  Their gazes locked. Her chin tilted upward, their mouths so close her sweet breath fluttered over his lips and jaw.

  But neither of them moved to close the gap. Kissing—and what it promised—way too intimate for what this was.

  “I didn’t want to want you again.” She was as blunt as ever.

  “You and me both.” He paused. “But I do want you. Badly.”

  Another flare in those gorgeous green eyes. As if his admission affected her. Making him wonder just how many layers this woman had—and why he craved so badly to see every one. Even as his gut blared in alarm.

  He ignored it. “I want you coming on my fingers. My tongue. My cock. I want you writhing beneath my touch, legs spread wide. I want it all.”

  She shuddered and he knew he had her. Knew his ice-cool assassin liked it dirty and hot.

  He went in for the kill. “Let me play with you, beautiful. Let me make you feel as fucking good as I did before.”

  “Yes”—her words were a whisper—“do that. Do all of that.”

  “With pleasure,” he growled, bringing her down on his cock. Impaling her in one fierce thrust.

  They groaned in unison. Her head fell back. His balls tightened. Dragath hell. There was nothing sweeter th
an the wet, hot feel of her surrounding him.

  For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could only savor the extraordinary freedom of pure joy, without pain or guilt or grief. A sensation he’d only found with her.

  The realization terrified him as much as it surprised him.

  Then, her cunt clenched around him and he forgot everything but the primal need to move.

  “Damn, assassin, you feel so fucking good.” He lifted her upward, relishing the friction as she slid along his cock. Only to bring her back down—hard—the slap of her ass against his balls making it hard to stay upright.

  He locked his knees. Did it again. Working her up and down his dick. Chest puffing out with each low moan he wrung from her.

  She was so strong, so fierce, and always in control. But not here. Not now. Last time, she’d been on top and he’d let her set the pace.

  This time she was trusting him enough to let him to be in charge.

  For some reason, that knowledge excited him as much as the pure pleasure of the act itself.

  “Wrap those gorgeous thighs around me.”

  She didn’t hesitate. The new angle sent them both into a wild frenzy. Now able to palm her ass, he slid his other hand between them, found the slippery, swollen nub and worked her clit in time with his thrusts.

  “Yes. Just like that.” Short, sensible nails dug into his back, the bite of pain slipping his control another notch. “The way you touch me is like nothing else.”

  His heart beat faster, her admission enflaming his need almost beyond control.

  Desperate to taste her, his buried his face in the sweet hollow of her neck, inhaled her honeyed ice scent, and thrust harder, faster, his thumb never ceasing its circular motion as her movements became more frantic, her hips bucking in time with his thrusts.

  “Oh, Janus, felon. I’m…I’m going to come.”

  “Do it.” He worked her faster. “Give me everything, assassin. Come on my dick while I play with that swollen, slippery clit. I want it all.”

  With a scream, she obeyed. Her head thrown back, body arched, so fucking beautiful even lunar fireworks didn’t compare. Light and heat. Power and vulnerability. Ice and fire. He’d never seen anything more spectacular than Jade Lakotesh when she let herself lose control.