“What about a guard for Gabby?”
“I’ll stay behind.” Gray swirled across Mogens skin before blending into the black and fading away. “I have much to think on tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Camryn asked. “You watched over Gabby and Luke last night.”
“The ghost is here,” he said in a low whisper, pointing behind them. “Look.”
Ry stiffened, not enough for anyone else to see but Camryn felt the unease in him. The same disquiet flickered through her, and she had to force herself not to glance behind them.
Jannike snorted. “I can’t see anything.” She opened the stall door and stalked into the pen. “They’re getting ready for the next heat. We should leave now.”
“We should watch the other races to form a strategy,” Camryn said without enthusiasm. It was a smart, clever thing to do—go into a race with knowledge of the other horses’ abilities and strengths.
At her side, Ry nodded. “Camryn’s right. We’ll help you load Gabby and Luke into the tender and meet you at the King’s Head later tonight.”
Ten mins later the tender took off and Camryn walked at Ry’s side. They slipped into the owners’ section of the arena. The other owners fell silent despite the parade of hell-horses to the starting gates for the next heat. Camryn saw disgust, envy and open curiosity on the men’s faces. All of them bore the stamp of determination. They wanted to win this race—the same way Ry wanted to win. They wanted marriage to the governor’s daughter and the dowry that came with her.
Ry slipped into an empty seat, and Camryn took the one beside him. A hell-horse reared, refusing to enter the gate and a convict prodded it with a long, sharp stick. With a pained yelp, it sprang into the gate. The convict slammed the exit shut to prevent the hell-horse from backing out. Camryn worried while she watched. They’d gone through the heat almost unscathed, but the other owners wouldn’t let Gabby win the final race so easily.
“Any ideas,” Ry asked in a low voice.
“None I care to discuss here.”
Silence fell between them while they waited for the start of the fifth heat. The starting gate clattered open and the hell-horses sprang out.
“And they’re off,” the commentator roared.
The crowd burst into cheers and roared encouragement to their favorites. Some of the owners had managed to purchase previous winners and these animals knew the process. The inexperienced hell-horses floundered, unused to the brutality and the excited roar of the crowd. A hell-horse stumbled. Camryn reached for Ry’s hand.
Feeling the weight of a stare, Camryn glanced to her left. Ry’s brother gawked at her, hatred blazing. When he saw he’d snared her attention, he winked. Camryn turned away, a sense of dirtiness creeping over her skin like a rash. Talor Coppersmith was a handsome man. Although not as tall or muscular as Ry, he bore classic good looks, highlighted by his striking long silver hair, and charm. According to Kaya, he had money and prestige. A good catch yet she wasn’t interested in anything he had to offer. He gave her the creeps. His brother on the other hand…if it weren’t for Gabriel…
Maybe we should pattern our race on the Earth model. It’s still first past the post takes the prize in the final race, right?
As long as they don’t change the rules,
Ry broadcast his thoughts to her without taking his gaze off the carnage down on the track.
Can they change the rules?
I don’t know. They might try since the crowd wasn’t happy with the way we won.
Camryn turned to glare at Ry, putting all her anger into her thoughts.
I don’t care how much you want to win this race. I will not have Gabby put at risk.
Ry’s gaze flickered to his brother and away. “I want to win this race.”
“And what do you intend to do with a wife?” Camryn snapped. “No one has mentioned her. Are you going to set up home and live happily ever after?” Her stomach tightened to a tense knot.
Jealousy.
She heard it simmering in her voice and her thoughts jarred to a halt. No, it couldn’t be. She wasn’t jealous. It was sex. Good sex and nothing else.
“People are staring,” Ry said, his voice neutral.
Irritated, Camryn focused on the track. It started raining with dusk approaching. Around them owners ignored the downpour to shout on their hell-horses. Some groaned. A pale green alien spat out a salty curse before storming off. A serious business. These men wanted to win and not one of them cared what the woman looked like. They wanted her dowry and the prestige that came with the win.
She shouldn’t worry. Soon she’d be back home. Her life would go on, and she’d forget about Ry, forget about hell-horses and forget about everything else. She didn’t care what he did with the woman. A fine sheen of sweat sprang out on her forehead. Her right hand trembled. Camryn hid it beneath her jacket and admitted to herself she was a big, fat liar. She cared. Big-time.
Without seeing, she gazed at the track and the race wound to a conclusion. Four hell-horses finished, the last staggering and on the verge of collapse. Blood dripped down its side. Sensing weakness, the hell-horses turned to attack. Camryn couldn’t bear to watch and hid her face against Ry’s chest. Treating animals like this was obscene.
Ry disliked Camryn’s silence after their departure. Ever since her outburst about the governor’s daughter in the race arena they’d spoken in single syllables. His gut churned. He wanted to crush his lips against hers, pin her in place and thrust into her until they both exploded with the pleasure. Then he wanted to do it all over again but slowly this time, building Camryn’s passion until her eyes fogged with hunger and she sobbed out his name.
His name.
He wanted to push into her dew-slicked flesh and ride the waves of pleasure with her throughout the long night and every night.
His name.
His woman.
He wasn’t going to take her back to Earth. He couldn’t since living without her wasn’t an option.
A mess, but he’d taken heart from the jealousy he’d heard in her voice when she’d spoken of the governor’s daughter. Camryn still thought of her husband. She’d named their hell-horse after him, for fukk’s sake. A scowl twisted his lips. Bloody difficult to compete with a dead man. A saint. He shot a glance in her direction and found her watching him. He smiled, knowing she was as torn as he was.
“Hungry?”
“Yes.”
But not for him. Obvious when he plucked a hazy picture of Gabriel from her mind. An older man, a ghost, and impossible to fight.
Pissed, Ry scanned the street they walked instead of demanding she give him a chance. Lamps lit the way, allowing them to pick their way past refuse and dodge the puddles of water left from the unexpected squall that had hit the city during the early evening. At least the rain had tamped down some of the stench clinging to the buildings and streets. A couple of prostitutes stood in a doorway, their tight red dresses displaying ample breasts while their bragging and winks encouraged the men passing by to enter and pay for unprecedented pleasure.
The three men in front of them walked into the Tasty Tart Tavern, the tinny sounds of a battered pianoforte carrying outside when the door opened.
They continued on, heading for the King’s Head Tavern. The lights from the King’s Head shone like a welcoming beacon. Part of Ry welcomed the noise and gaiety they’d find inside while the other part of him wanted to spend precious time with Camryn. There had to be a way to persuade her to stay with him. Besides, if Mogens was correct, it was too late. According to Mogens, they’d mated.
Fear gripped him at the thought of her leaving. His hands clenched and he wished he knew something of his background, his real parents. All he knew were the bits his adopted mother had told him—of how she’d gone for a walk, trying to outrun black depression after the death of her baby boy. She’d seen the ship, the blaze of flames when it flew overhead, the explosive crash not long after it landed. Katia Coppersmith had refused to give him up, saying he’d arrived at her doorstep for a reason and she intended to keep him. She’d named him Ryman after her father and treated him like a son.
He’d been too young to recall the rejoicing when Katia Coppersmith had fallen pregnant again and delivered a healthy son and heir for the House of the Cat. All he remembered was the way she’d treated him—like a member of the family. She’d been firm with discipline and generous with praise and love for all her children. After her husband had died, she’d held everyone together while Talor had taken over at age sixteen cycles. Not long after, Ry’s life had changed radically. Labeled a murderer, Talor had literally handed him to the law. His escape from incarceration had been pure luck, and revenge had set him on the road to thievery.
They reached the King’s Head. Ry stood aside to open the door for Camryn, wishing things were different and Camryn wasn’t part of his plan for revenge.
Too damn late. And in truth, he wouldn’t change the way he’d done things.
The crew spotted them and waved to attract their attention. Ry escorted Camryn over to their corner table before signaling a barmaid to take their order. Part of him was glad Mogens had chosen to stay at camp to watch over Gabby and Luke because he couldn’t take another night of suspicious looks and swirls of gray within solid black. He wished the happy white Mogens would return instead of the gloomy seer who saw ghosts and spouted of dire things to come each time he read the clouds and weather patterns.
The drinks arrived, and Ry shunted them around the table. He took a sip, savoring the taste of hops and stronger flavor of flyss, an additive used to give the mild ale a kick. He glanced at Camryn, saw her blink at her first swallow from the tankard and drink some more. For a brief instant he considered warning her about the strength of the drink. No, it didn’t matter. He’d watch over her. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt.
In the predominantly male tavern, the women attracted attention. Both Jannike and Kaya ignored it, Camryn appeared discomforted. Ry slid closer and slung an arm around her shoulders to signal ownership. His move didn’t go unnoticed. Camryn didn’t object. She didn’t cuddle closer either. Ry’s feline pushed at his skin, a snarl sounding inside his head. Camryn jerked in surprise, her gaze flying to his, eyes widening.
What?
he asked, pretending innocence while shock rippled through him. She’d heard his feline’s displeasure. Ry concentrated on Camryn, his heart thundering while need poured through him. Muscles tensed and energy coiled low in his belly. His cock pulsed and thickened, and all he could think about was getting her alone and naked. Nothing else mattered, not his brother, his blotted reputation or the desire for revenge. Camryn was the one.
“Buy ya a drink, love,” a man shouted over the din.
Ry glanced up to see his crew watched them both. Not good, both from a security standpoint and the gossip they’d take back to Mogens. Damn, he needed an excuse to get her alone. He needed to make her understand they were a team. A unit. They really were mates, just as Mogens had said.
“A drink?” the man hollered again. A dark beard covered most of his lower face, and he’d pulled his long black hair into a greasy queue. He shook Jannike’s shoulder, smiling to reveal missing front teeth.
“No.” Jannike shrugged off the beefy hand and slid closer to Kaya. “I’m with her.” Jannike ignored Kaya’s curse to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek.
The man cast a considering glance at Kaya, grinning again. “No problem. I’ll entertain you both. Have you fixed in no time.”
Kaya jumped to her feet. “I don’t need fixing.”
“Aw no,” Nanu said with dismay, showing some of his old self. “Don’t start a fight. I’m comfortable here. I’ve ordered food. Please don’t start a fight.”
Kaya punched the man’s gut when he sidled close enough to pinch her ass. Off balance, he knocked a pitcher of ale over several of the occupants at the next table. Cursing they leapt to their feet. Tables crashed to the ground. A man cussed. He bumped into a barmaid and she dropped her tray of drinks.
“Hell.” Ry stood and glanced at Camryn. “If anyone touches you hit them.”
“But—”
“Hit first and save the questions for later. Crew, let’s move it. Meet up at the Nag’s Head if we get separated.”
Ry grasped Camryn’s hand and grinned. “Let’s go.” He circled the worst of the fighting and used his bulk to plow through the combatants. Camryn used her elbows like weapons, beating off anyone who tried to touch or grab. They emerged from the tavern with Camryn laughing.
“I knew having to stand up for myself with all those jockeys would come in handy. You can’t play by the book during a fight.”
The book.
Hell, he hadn’t thought of it for ages and maybe he should have. Maybe it held answers, but he’d have to return to the
Indy
to check.
Camryn paused on the corner and waited for a sedan chair to pass. “What book?”
Nanu rushed out of a side door and Kaya and Jannike followed on his heels. A crash sounded. “Cease fighting,” the landlord hollered. “I’m calling the watch.”
“Just got out in time,” Kaya said with satisfaction, jerking her head in the direction of the approaching marines.
“Keep your fists to yourself next time.” Nanu’s angry gaze slid to Jannike then Kaya. “I’m hungry. I wanted to eat my meal before I left.”
“Pooh, males have no sense of fun,” Kaya said.
“They’re governed by their stomachs,” Jannike said.
“Or their libidos,” Camryn added with a sly look at Ry.
Ry snorted. “I haven’t heard you complain about my libido before.” His crew turned to watch in fascination, their heads swiveling back and forth in intense interest.
Behave,
Ry thought sternly.
Or else?
Or else I’ll put you over my knee and paddle your backside.
Promises, promises.
Camryn stuck her nose in the air and sashayed down the street to the Nag’s Head, her backside swaying in a seductive manner. A stumble spoiled her perfect exit.
The imperfection brought a crooked grin. Hot damn, his mate was something. But together they could be better, if only Camryn would listen. The book, he decided. He’d return to the
Indy
and take Camryn. They had a couple of easy days. The crew could cope without them, and it would be an ideal opportunity to spend time alone with Camryn. Mogens might object, but Ry refused to listen to the seer.