Page 37 of Shielded in the Shadows

There was no answer to that question that wasn’t dangerous, so I simply said, “I know what a nivilus is.”

A half-dozen emotions flashed in her eyes: surprise, anger, suspicion, grief, hatred, and finally resolve.

“So you figured it out,” she said tonelessly. “I forgot to include smart in that list of traits I mentioned earlier.”

“Just well informed.” I let the moment breathe while she processed that I’d guessed at least some of her past. “You pick up a lot of bits of knowledge in my former occupation.”

“Your former occupation being a spy?”

“I prefer professional collector of information.”

Her thin smile had no humor in it. “You are a menace.”

“Not to you,” I stated, my tail lashing. “Never to you. I am your weapon and your shield.”

She turned back to the screen and its view of Hidria.

“Funny how something that seems so long ago can be so present,” she said without looking at me. “I haven’t stepped foot on Ganai in almost fifteen years, but I can still feel the sand. I still hear the crowd.” She took a deep breath. “I still smell the blood.”

I took no pleasure at all at being right about where she’d been born and what had befallen her.

The infamous arenas of Ganai, where child gladiators had fought, suffered, and died for a century, had been the great shame of that planet and the Alliance until their closing a decade ago. As the trainers and owners fled the planet, newly freed gladiators had converged on the arenas and training facilities and burned them all to the ground in a visceral expression of fury and pain. If my estimate of Keela’s age was correct, she’d turned sixteen and earned her freedom a mere five years before the arenas burned.

The majority of gladiators had been human children born into poverty on Ganai, though some had come from wealthy families with private trainers and immense resources. Those privileged fighters were treated like royalty and rarely fought in matches that resulted in death. I doubted Keela had been one of that select group.

If at some point she wanted to tell me her story, I would listen. As terrible as I imagined it to be, the truth would be infinitely worse. Those kinds of stories usually were.

“I obviously don’t know if there is a connection between your past on Ganai, the bounty, and the plan to build arenas on Forval IX,” I said quietly. “But we need to know who posted the bounty and why so we can find a way to get it off your head one way or another.”

“Off our heads,” she murmured. She glanced at me. “And no, I haven’t checked to see if you’ve been added since whoever posted the bounty may have a way of tracing those who access the posting. But after yesterday, I’m sure you’re a wanted male, and not just by your old crew.”

She stared into her coffee mug as if she might find answers there. “You think our next stop should be Trakhan, then?” she asked. “You believe we’ll get the fuel and information we need from your contact and he’ll ensure there’s no tracker on the Nivilus?”

My tail tried to wrap around her calf. I forced it to coil around her seat base instead. “Yes. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I think it’s our best option at the moment.”

“All right.” She squared her shoulders and drained the last of her coffee. “Siber, plot a course for Trakhan Outpost. We’re keeping a low profile, so stay in shadow mode and out of standard shipping lanes. Once we get within a few hours of the outpost, switch to a new ship’s registry. We’ll be going in as CS Bandit’s Blade.”

“Acknowledged, Captain,” Siber said. “Course will take a few minutes to calculate. Given the need for stealth, travel time to the outpost will be approximately three days.”

“Three days.” Keela took a deep breath, let it out, and turned to me. “Fine. That gives us plenty of time for you to learn some better combat moves.”

My brows shot up. “For me to learn⁠—?”

“I’ve been wanting to kick your ass since I met you.” She rose and poked me in the chest in a way that made me want to growl, haul her into my lap, and kiss her senseless. “Get up. I’ve got the cargo bay set up for training and sparring since I’m between jobs.”

My eyebrows climbed higher. “You want to spar with me?” My cocks leapt in enthusiastic approval of the idea. “Are you sure you want to face that kind of humiliation?”

Her laugh made me want to purr. “You think you can put me on the mat, little bat?” she scoffed. “Come and try it.”

She headed for the cockpit door. As it slid aside to reveal the corridor beyond, I rose from my chair. “Little bat?” I rumbled, looking down from my full height at my grinning mate. My tail swished with anticipation. “Who’s little?”

“Not me.” She left her mug in the galley and unlocked the doors to her cabin. “Get changed and meet me in the cargo bay. Last one there does fifty pull-ups.”

“That’s unfair. I have to synth sparring clothes first,” I pointed out as I returned my own mug to the galley.

She clucked her tongue in mock sympathy and turned her back to me. “Hope you like pull-ups, then,” she sang out before her cabin doors closed.

Gods above, this female.