03 Solar Flare - Spark Series (4 page)

“Oh, come on! He’s mellowed with the years
and you know it. He doesn’t act cold and dangerous around the
family…anymore.”

“He’s a paragon. A saint,” Brandy agreed,
straight-faced. “Especially when he’s dressed as a thug and
stealing vehicles. Let’s not forget his penchant for writing
speeding tickets, either.”

“How many times have we mentioned you might
want to slow down? You drive like a mad woman. Azor knows you won’t
listen to reason. You’re probably the only speeding ticket he’s
written in years. I wouldn’t doubt he followed you from the inn
just for that purpose.

“If you ask me, he did us all a favor. He
doesn’t want to see you hurt, either.”

“Ah, the sign of a true hero…lying in wait to
arrest his love. Look closely, you can see my heart flutter.”
Brandy touched a hand to her heart and batted her lashes.

Gem sighed and looked out the window. “So,
are you seeing anyone these days?” Apparently she’d gotten tired of
pushing Azor’s virtues.

“I’ve been looking on-line. I’ve had an
interesting conversation or two,” Brandy admitted, surprising her
sister. Her usual system was to dodge any questions of romance, but
lately she’d been feeling restless. Gem had moved on. Xera was
light-years away, across the galaxy with her alien husband. It made
for some rather boring, and lonely, nights.

Gem actually smiled. “Well, keep me posted.
Meanwhile, if you’re looking for a date, there’s this nice guy out
on the farm—“

“No farmers, sis. No miners, farmers,
laborers, etc. No neighbors or business associates. I can find my
own dates.”

“Hey, at least I try.”

“Don’t need you to try. You don’t know what
I’m looking for, anyway,” Brandy said firmly, remembering some of
the more memorable dates Gem had set up. She meant well, and Brandy
had felt like honoring her efforts in the past, but there was only
so much a girl could put up with. If she kept going that route, she
was going to end up hating men.

With the exception of her husband, Gem sure
didn’t know how to pick ‘em.

Out of the corner of her eye, Brandy could
see Gem fidget. There was obviously something on her mind. “What’s
with the twitch?”

Gem sighed. “It’s nothing. I was just
thinking of mom.”

Brandy glanced at her in surprise. Their
mother had died just after she was born, and they rarely discussed
her. Their father had been so vibrant, he’d taken up their whole
world. At least, that’s how it had been for her.

Gem opened her mouth but seemed to think
better of it. “Maybe not while you’re driving,” she muttered.

Brandy cast her a puzzled look, but returned
to watching traffic. This must be one of those discussions, then.
Whatever was on Gem’s mind, it smacked of a lecture. Brandy frowned
and hoped Gem would put it off for a good long time.

Whatever it was, no doubt it could wait.

CHAPTER 3

“You’re late.”

Azor glanced at her over his shoulder. “I
didn’t know we had an appointment.” He popped the hood on her
transport and stuck his head underneath. He seemed to be wearing
the same beat-up clothes he’d played thug in. They suited him
better, made him seem more normal, approachable. They also showed
off his lean, fit body in a way his uniform couldn’t duplicate.
There was nothing like a well-worn pair of pants to showcase a
backside. He had nice legs, too. Great thighs, she thought a little
wistfully.

Brandy realized she was looking a little too
closely and hastily averted her eyes. Azor was not fodder for
romantic inclination. He worked out—good for him. She focused
diligently on reading her virtual mail, grateful that her
embarrassed moments rarely produced a blush. She’d have had a hard
time explaining if he noticed and started asking questions.

It was true, he’d loosely set the time for
after lunch. It was after lunch, though farther after than she’d
expected. She’d spent more time watching for him than she’d care to
admit, enough that she could have completed the chore herself. That
would have defeated the purpose of his coming, though.

Her electronic tablet blurred, and she
realized she wasn’t focused. Since she’d decided to be hospitable,
she asked, “Would you like a drink?”

“Iced juice would be nice,” he said
agreeably.

“Redberry or spiky melon?”

“Either would be fine.”

Happy for the excuse to leave, she left her
tablet on the workbench and took her time walking to the kitchen.
That was easy to do with her limp. Her feet were still bothering
her today, even though the rain had stopped. The old breaks
throbbed with pain that spiked into her calves and knees. It made
her grumpy.

It had been barely four months since she’d
been forced to let Dr. Vhanee remove the bones of her hands and
forearms. The pain of the old injuries had been crippling, inflamed
with the toxin her tormentor had used to increase her pain. It had
turned her joints swollen and deformed before her twentieth
birthday. The misshapen bones had been replaced with synthetic
bone, with old nerves and muscles grafted on top. Thanks to skin
regeneration, there was no trace of scarring where they’d filleted
her arms open, but it still made her uneasy to think about it.
Sometimes her hands felt cold.

She’d couldn’t face the thought of going
through another operation for her feet; not yet, anyway.

Azor was smart enough not to comment on her
limp as she returned and handed him his drink. Gem nagged her
enough as it was. She picked up her tablet.

“Thanks.” Azor nodded to the tablet. “Any
good mail? I noticed the screen,” he said by way of
explanation.

She raised a brow at his nosiness, but
thought nothing of it. After all, her family was full of people
peering over her shoulder. She’d been known to do the same. “Yes,
actually. I’m going to meet someone I met online at a club
tonight.”

A faint frown shadowed his eyes. “Are you
taking a girlfriend? It wouldn’t hurt to have backup.”

She gave him a dubious look. “This isn’t a
stakeout. I’ll be surrounded by people. If I don’t like him, I’ll
leave.”

He shook his head. “You’re attractive enough
that you shouldn’t have to resort to meeting strangers online.
There must be a group you can join…or something.”

She looked down her nose at him. “Yeah,
because that wouldn’t be pitiful, would it? Look, I’ve already
humored Gem by dating all the men she’s pushed at me. This can’t
possibly be worse than some of the dates I’ve put up with.” She
didn’t add that Azor was the only single guy Gem knew who hadn’t
been tapped—probably because Gem knew her sister would flatly
refuse to have anything to do with him. Prolonged exposure to him
just made her…tense.

Take now, for instance. To her memory, she’d
never spent so much time alone with him. She could feel herself
growing edgy. If it went on much longer she knew she’d start trying
to provoke him. It was an instinctive reaction to the disquiet he
made her feel.

He wiped his hands on a rag and held one out.
“Give me your com. I’m going to put my home number and pager on
quick connect.”

“I hardly think that’s necessary.” Her grip
tightened. She really didn’t want him to have it. She wasn’t ready
for the intimacy of quick connect.

His hand didn’t waver, and his gaze held
steady. After a moment she sighed and handed it over. It was just
easier. “You’ve been working too hard.”

“I have good instincts. Besides, you have a
habit of getting tangled in ugly things.”

A muscle jumped in her cheek. “That was not
my fault.” Mostly. She could admit to giving in to blackmail, but
she hadn’t invited their former brew master, Jean Luc, to mix drugs
into his exports. When Azor and his team had come sniffing around
The Spark, looking for drugs, she hadn’t hindered the
investigation. Of course, she hadn’t helped, either, until she’d
been tortured nearly to death by a thug intent on gaining Jean
Luc’s secrets.

She’d kept quiet to protect her sister Xera,
but had come out the loser. There were times when silence wasn’t
worth the price. They’d had her full cooperation after that, though
she’d had to give her confession through a fractured jaw. The
memory of the pain, the helpless weeks in a hospital bed, and
later, the months in a wheel chair…even the memories still made her
faintly nauseous.

She accepted her com back without comment and
collected her tablet. “Thanks for servicing the transport. I’ll see
you around.”

“Brandy.” Azor’s voice was calm, but there
was concern as well as command. “Don’t let it stop you from
calling.”

She didn’t turn around. There were times when
talking just wasn’t smart.

She was still thinking about it as she pulled
into the club that night. She’d never been to Yazzor’s before, but
the club’s reputation was respectable. She parked the transport and
stared at the exterior’s glossy, red glass finish, but she didn’t
really see it.

She’d hated Azor on sight. He’d been so cold,
so curt, and he had a way of smiling without humor that made her
want to claw him.

He’d been rude and into everything. She’d
felt swarmed, pursued as his men had combed the brewery. She’d
sworn he’d known she was hiding something even then, but then
again, he’d come off that way for a long time, even after the ugly
trial that had destroyed her sister’s reputation and nearly ruined
hers as well.

Xera had escaped to the GE, but Brandy had
stayed home and tried to live down the scandal. It had taken years,
and even now she was considered no catch. Any respectable mother on
Polaris would look askance at a son who brought her home. No matter
how much money she had, theirs was a conservative planet. It would
take a special man to marry her.

Even her childhood friend M’acht had backed
out of their brief, choppy relationship. Rebel though he was, he
wasn’t up to taking her on for the rest of his life. Hence her
search for a potential suitor. Sometimes a girl had to get
aggressive with these things.

Brandy stepped out of the transport. She was
dressed in trendy, but respectable black pants and a burnt orange
silk halter-top that covered what it should. She wore a
conservative jacket to lend a formal air to the occasion. One
couldn’t be too careful with first meetings.

The club was noisy with gyrating dancers. She
had little use for the pastime and wished her date had chosen a
quiet restaurant as she’d suggested. It would have been easier to
talk.

She looked over the dancers and blinked. At
first glance there seemed to be an unusual number of aliens in
attendance, but a moment’s study revealed it was shape-changing
Kiuyians she saw. Many of them had played with their form, wearing
the heads of birds or predators as a form of disguise. Some had
decked their skins in scales, feathers and fur, as if they were
engaged in a masked ball. She saw one huge specimen with the black
head of a dog and long, blunt nails of polished ebony. He wore no
shirt, just a wide beaded collar of gold and jade beads. His black
chest rippled with muscle. His eyes, when he glanced her way, were
telltale Kiuyian green.

She knew a Kiuyian could not hold an assumed
form forever. When they lost consciousness or slept, they assumed
their original form. It was a survival trick, one they’d developed
on their long lost world. It was also something they did for fun.
Regardless, it gave the place an air of anonymity that made her
vaguely uncomfortable.

She frowned, not because she had anything
against Kiuyians, but because it was an odd choice of place to
stage a meeting. Her date hadn’t mentioned a Kiuyian heritage, and
she’d asked. She always asked.

She’d been married once. Her husband had been
the boy next door, and Kiuyian. She’d been twenty-three, convinced
that time was slipping by. He’d wanted to get back at his bigoted
father. They’d run off and gotten married, but it had been a
disaster. Maybe his father’s attitude had unconsciously poisoned
him, for he’d finally admitted he was only attracted to Kiuyian
women. They’d dragged the affair out for over two months, sought
counseling, but it was useless. He wanted out. She let him go.

It had taken years to drag her name out of
the gutter, for people did not divorce on her world, not without
throwing away their honor. She’d contributed tones of money and
time to charitable organizations to earn back a measure of respect.
Only recently had she been able to date with any success, but one
wrong move could wreak everything she’d worked for. Polaris would
give second chances for a price; third chances didn’t exist. She
had to be careful.

She found him at the bar, and he looked just
like the picture he’d sent. She looked him over. Blond hair worn a
little long, brown leather jacket, casual pants, boots. He’d
claimed to be an engineer for the power plant. He had odd tastes
for someone in a conservative field.

She made the decision to proceed with caution
as she stepped forward. “Darren Topek?” she said as she caught his
eye, though there was little doubt of his identity.

He lit up as looked her over. “Well, hello!
You look even better than your picture, Brandy. I’m glad you could
make it.”

“I always keep my appointments,” she said
mildly as she slid onto the stool next to him, though his too warm
gaze made her uncomfortable. She noticed he had a second drink with
him.

“I got you something,” he said with a smile.
“Tell me what you think.”

It looked like a sweet drink. She took one
sip and grimaced. It was like candy in a glass. “A bit sweet for my
tastes, though it was thoughtful of you to order for me.” She
caught the bartender’s eye. “Do you have the good scotch? Anything
over twenty-five years will do.”

The man nodded and produced a bottle from
under the bar. “No ice?”