Shadower (14 page)

"Don't even try."

"But you must listen to—" She paused mid-sentence, alarmed by the change in his expression as his attention drifted lower.

"What's this you're wearing?"

Glancing down, she realized her scarf had slipped off one shoulder, exposing the generous swell of her breasts above an immodestly low neckline.

"So you've changed professions," he drawled, his free hand pushing the scarf off her shoulders. "Or perhaps you were a prostitute all along." He brushed his fingers along the emerald Saija silk barely covering her breast. "Nice. I'll have to tell Lani she was wrong about your endowments."

She swung her free fist as hard as she could. His hand shot up, catching it millimeters from his face. "We'll get to the shackles in just a minute," he promised. He pushed her back against the ship, trapping her arms behind her, holding them in an unbreakable vise with his left hand. His body pressed against hers, preventing her from levering free. "But first, I have a few questions."

"I told you I can explain—"

"What's this?" His attention had moved downward again. Damn the revealing rhapha, and damn all men! He cupped her right breast, the heat of his touch searing. "So…" he murmured. "I didn't imagine it."

She stared down stupidly as his thumb rubbed across the distinctive mole on the upper slope of her breast. Her body reacted immediately, her breast swelling to his touch, the nipple pebbling. Frissons of pleasure skittered along her nerve endings.

Trying not to gasp, she swallowed hard. "Didn't imagine what?"

"That night in your cabin."

She looked up, and her heart bolted in her chest at the heated intensity she saw in his eyes. Images swirled through her mind—Sabin lowering his mouth to her breast, his hand moving along her leg. She forced the vision away. She refused to be affected by him, by his touch.

"No, I didn't imagine this intriguing mole." He continued to stroke her bare skin. She shivered, battling her body's traitorous reaction. "Which also means I didn't imagine you lying naked on your bunk, spreading your legs for me. Playing the whore to draw me into a trap I should have seen coming light-years away."

His crude words sent heat flaming through her face. But it was the truth behind those words that seared her to the core.
Whore.
Pax had dragged her to the dredges of the Abyss and back, leaving her forever tainted. She had sworn she'd never again barter her body, and ultimately, her soul.
Never again.
And yet, with Sabin, she'd done just that. She'd had no choice, she told herself fiercely. If she had to trade her soul in order to ensure the well-being of Celie and the others, then so be it.

"Tell me, did you enjoy it?"

Sabin's taunt pulled her thoughts back to the present. Apparently his memories of being in her cabin were fragmented, a very likely possibility with the drug she had used. If she could convince him otherwise, she might diffuse some of his anger.

"Nothing happened between us," she argued. "You must have dreamed it. You probably saw the mole when you treated my wound."

"I think not." He grasped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "It was your left shoulder that was wounded. I never bared your right side. Don't try to deny it."

She stared at his furious face, knowing he wouldn't be swayed. Damn! She had left her gun inside. She had to find some way to—

"Halt there, citizen! Release the lady and put your hands up."

Still gripping her wrists, Sabin glanced over his shoulder. Standing behind him were three Anteks, two armed with disrupters, the third holding an electrolyzer rod. Their rank smell permeated the air. With a frustrated sigh, he jerked away from her, raising his hands and slowly turning around. She moved past him, retrieving her scarf off the ground and flinging it around her bare shoulders.

Her actions drew the soldiers' notice momentarily, but as soon as they saw her rhapha, their attention returned to Sabin. She wanted nothing more than to slip away, but knew she would draw far more suspicion if she did. One Antek, apparently the leader, lumbered forward and took Sabin's weapons and identification. The other two circled behind him.

"What goes on here?" the leader demanded in a guttural voice. "Who is the owner of this ship?"

"I am," Sabin answered.

The Antek grunted, showing a row of sharp teeth. "Odd. This ship happens to match the description of one that's been reported stolen."

"It's my ship," Sabin insisted. "I'm the one who reported it stolen, and I just caught up with the thief." 

He pointed toward Moriah, and she decided it was time for a distraction. "This man was trying to force himself on me," she informed the one in charge.

His dull eyes narrowed into slits. "Harming courtesan very serious."

"She's lying!" Sabin protested, taking a step forward. "I didn't hurt her. Besides, she's a fake. She's not even a—"

The Antek behind him shocked him with the electrolyzer rod. He jerked and staggered, and for a moment, Moriah thought he might fall, but he regained his balance. She winced, knowing how painful an electrolyzer jolt could be.

"You're foolish, citizen," the leader snapped. "Accosting a courtesan and stealing a ship are high-level crimes."

"Check my identification," Sabin gritted out, "and then check the ship registration. You'll see I'm telling the truth. This ship belongs to me."

"I intend to do that," the leader growled. "And to search the ship as well."

Searching any questionable ship was standard operating procedure. There went Moriah's inventory. Goods she couldn't afford to lose. Damn Sabin Travers! But there was nothing she could do about it now. This was her cue to cut out as quickly as possible.

She stepped close to the team leader, trying not to gag at his smell, and gave him her brightest smile. "Thank you for coming to my assistance, Commander. If you don't mind, I have a rendezvous with an important client at the Dome. I really must be leaving."

"You can't let her go!" Sabin roared. "She's the one who stole the ship." He got another shock for his outburst, this one almost sending him to his knees. A second, surprising wave of concern swept through Moriah.

"You will present charges against this citizen?" the head Antek asked.

She looked away from Sabin's accusing glare. "Uh, no, I don't think so. He didn't hurt me. Just got a little excited."

"Why don't you check
her
identification?" Sabin pressed. "I'm telling you, she's not a courtesan. She's a fraud."

Shaking her head as if Sabin were crazy, Moriah slipped her ID from her pouch and offered it to the Antek. "The poor man. Go ahead, Commander. Feel free to check it."

He glanced briefly at the picture, but didn't run the disc through the unit at his waist. "It looks okay, lady. You free to go."

"She's lying, I tell you!" Sabin endured another shock, while she tried not to cringe. She wished he'd just be quiet and let them check his registration. He'd prove his ownership soon enough, and she'd be long gone by then.

She smiled once more at the leader, playfully flipping one end of her scarf against his barreled chest. "Thank you again for rescuing me, Commander," she purred. "You come see me at the Dome and you'll get special treatment, at no additional charge."

The Antek snorted, drool slipping down his jowl. "I will, lady. I come see you."

Moriah tried not to shudder. She gestured toward Sabin. "Go easy on him, as a personal favor to me. He's not really dangerous, just a little deranged." Ignoring Sabin's blistering glare, which clearly broadcast an unspoken promise of retribution if he ever caught up with her, she turned and gracefully swept away.

Once she was completely out of sight, she lifted her skirt and ran to the other side of the huge bay. She hoped it wasn't too late, that Lionia and Roanne hadn't taken off yet. If they had, she'd have to take cover until someone could come back for her. She knew she'd better not let Sabin catch up with her.

Guilt swept through her, guilt at leaving him in the hands of three Anteks. But there was nothing she could have done, and he should be able to prove he was the legal owner of the ship. There was also the matter of the contraband on the ship, but he could get out of that, if he knew who to bribe. She didn't know much about Sabin Travers, although she knew he was involved in illegal activities, as were more than half the citizens in this quadrant. He'd land on his feet.

If the ship wasn't legally his, that was another matter, because stolen ships fell under interstellar authority. Moriah hoped, for his sake, that it did belong to him. Otherwise, he'd be on the next prison transport to Alta, a thought that bothered her more than she cared to admit. Just guilt, she told herself, nothing more. After all, he'd treated her reasonably well, and she'd repaid him by drugging him and stealing his ship. She'd done it out of necessity, though, and personal feelings didn't enter into her actions. Not that she had any personal feelings for Sabin Travers. Absolutely not.

Relief swept through her when she saw Lionia's ship still on the pad. At least one thing had gone right today. She keyed in the hatch code. As she entered, Lionia strode from the cockpit. When she saw Moriah, a surprised expression crossed her face. "What are you doing here? I thought you were Celie."

Moriah stared back, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. "You mean Celie's not here yet?" Lionia shook her head. "She should have been here by now," Moriah said, trepidation vibrating through her. "Either she's still on the other ship, or something happened to her on the way here." She recalled the scenario she'd just left: Anteks about to search Sabin's ship. Panic raced through her.

Celie! Where was her sister?

He was definitely going to kill Moriah. Painfully, slowly—dismemberment came to mind—but only after he tortured her first. Seething, Sabin stood under the guard of the Antek leader, while the other two soldiers searched his ship. His identification, along with his ship's registration number, were being run through Intrepid's central computer system. He knew he'd check out, like he always did. He would get his ship back. Then there would be hell to pay.

The lumbering tread of a returning Antek drew his attention. Startled, he saw the soldier escorting a strange woman from his ship. Tall and slender, she was clad in a generic tan flightsuit. The Antek had a firm grip on her arm, and his electrolyzer rod was at the ready in case she ran. Sabin couldn't see the woman clearly because her head was down, a wealth of golden hair shielding her face from view. She stumbled as the Antek jerked her to a halt before Sabin and the team leader. Regaining her balance, she kept her head down. Tremors shook her body.

"We found woman on board, trying to escape out back hatch," the Antek grunted. "Show yourself," his captain commanded.

Slowly, she raised her head, wisps of silky hair clinging to her cheeks. She was young, much younger than Sabin's initial impression. Stark, utter terror shone in her brown eyes, and all color had drained from her face. She looked familiar, yet he didn't recall seeing her before. Since she'd been on his ship, he felt certain she must be one of the three women Radd had said were with Moriah. The realization kindled his interest. This girl might be key in tracking Moriah down.

"Present your name and identification," the leader barked.

The girl's eyes widened and her chest heaved. "My-my name is Celie. And I-I left my identification on another ship."

The leader's eyes narrowed. "Ordinances state citizens will carry identification at all times. You under arrest." He jerked his head at the other Antek, who stepped forward to put shackles on the girl's slender wrists. She shook so badly, Sabin thought she might faint. But she rallied, drawing a deep breath and fixing her attention on her shackled arms.

He looked at the bonds on his own wrists, courtesy of the Anteks and Moriah's deviousness. "Welcome to the club," he muttered.

She glanced sideways at him, her dark eyes flaring in alarm before she looked down again. She appeared as frightened of him as she was of the Anteks. She also appeared very innocent, a state that wouldn't last long in a Controller prison. Sabin shook his head, disgusted with a system so permeated with evil that any spark of decency was quickly and irrevocably snuffed out.

Why was he entertaining sympathy for this young woman? She was most likely one of Moriah's minions, and as such, a potential tool for revenge. Yes, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. She'd make a useful hostage. Of course, at the moment, he was in no position to be taking hostages.

The second Antek stomped from the ship. "Commander!" he barked. "I have found some unusual items. You come see."

Sabin pivoted toward the ship, perplexed. Unusual items?

The leader gestured toward him and the girl. "Guard them."

The two Antek lackeys flanked them as their leader entered the ship. Celie remained silent, her gaze on the ground, while Sabin mentally catalogued everything stored on board. He had nothing out of the ordinary, unless—

"You there!" the leader growled, pointing at Sabin as he stepped through the hatch. "You have a certified bill of lading for the goods on your ship?"

Goods? What goods?
He stared at the leader, an unpleasant premonition stirring inside him.

"Or a receipt for payment of tariffs for transporting Class III commodities within the quadrant?" the head Antek persisted.

Class III commodities?
Sabin rarely carried such, couldn't imagine how…Yeah, he could. Would it be possible to kill Moriah more than once? "I have no idea what you're talking about," he answered, although he had a very strong suspicion.

The leader moved closer, getting in Sabin's face and baring sharp teeth in a feral grin. "Saija silk, bolts of it. Ship engines and parts. Crates of Elysian liquor—the best of all, eh? So, you have tariff receipt?"

"Of course not," Sabin gritted out, trying avoid inhaling the horrible odor of Antek. "I didn't put that stuff on the ship. It was stolen, remember? But I can certainly tell you who's responsible. A woman who goes by the name of Moriah Cameron."