Silver Tongued Devils by Dawn Montgomery Page A

knotted in Na’varr’s
gut. In a heartbeat he had a laz blade to the cyborg’s mostly human
throat. “I told you when we first met. If you cross me, you won’t
survive it.” His voice held all the fury and bitterness at this
latest betrayal.
    “What, are you going to do? Kill me?
You don’t have the stones, pirate.”
    Na’varr let out a harsh laugh. “I
won’t have to. My cousin doesn’t tolerate failure. You’ll be dead
before the week is out.”
    “I don’t work for your
cousin.”
    Na’varr plunged his dagger forward and
Shawn Yates screamed. The blade pierced the emergency release
circuit, jamming the mechanical switch open. The foreman couldn’t
leave the suit until he received assistance.
    Dust swirled around them in a rush of
heat and he didn’t need to look up to know the cavalry had
arrived.
    The alarms grew louder.
    Attention. Dome breach
imminent. Seek shelter or don breathing apparatus.
    It took a moment for the cyborg to
realize he wasn’t dead. In that split second, his cheeks flamed
red.
    Na’varr smiled. “Looks like you can
still blush, metal head.”
    “You blow up my dome and there will be
no place you can hide, meat sack.”
    He reached in and yanked out the
foreman’s oxygen breather. “What are you going to do about
it?”
    Yates’s muscles bulged against the
restraints of his suit he was trapped in and Na’varr made a
clicking sound with his tongue. “I can’t have you following me, can
I?” He slapped the exoskeleton’s face screen up and backed away.
When the dome opened, Yates would survive—not that he deserved
it.
    Brom growled through the earpiece.
“You should let him die.”
    Na’varr ignored the commentary and
jumped down from the machine. The impact sent a sharp pain through
his side. He put on the foreman’s oxygen breather, desperate to
hear the voice of his little information thief. “Raesa.”
    “I’m on the way. My breather is on.”
Her voice was strained, but the fact she was talking meant she was
alive. And at this moment, he’d take it.
    He nodded to himself and ran toward
Brom’s rough landing zone. The ship hovered, rushing ice dust and
heat around his bare skin. Every cut and scrape on his arms and
chest burned. He jumped for the ramp and climbed up.
    “Dome released.” He barely made out
Raesa’s words before the murky sky turned stark black. Ice dust
blocked the view and he dropped his gaze back to the mining
compound.
    “Raesa what’s your position?” he
asked.
    Brom answered first. “She’s in a dead
run, coming right at us. Looks like she’s injured.”
    “I’m fine.” Her words were
breathless.
    Fear struck him deep inside. Fifteen
years ago, he’d lost everything in a bloody coup d'etat, including
the woman currently hidden within dust. He’d thought she was dead
once. Finding her alive had been a miracle, and his idiotic plan
had put her in danger.
    “Where the hell are you?” he muttered.
With relief, he made out a feminine body racing toward the
ship.
    “Move your ass, hellcat.” Brom’s voice
hit the earpiece. The ship stuttered and trembled. Na’varr snapped
a cargo line around his waist and ran down the ramp, gripping the
rails for dear life. She ran at a speed that filled him with
pride.
    Shots ricocheted off the ramp and
Na’varr ducked in reflex.
    “Shit they’re shooting at
us.”
    “Hurry up, dammit,” Brom
demanded.
    The ship tipped forward, knocking
Na’varr the distance he needed. When this was all over, he was
either going to kiss Brom or kick his ever-loving ass.
    Raesa jumped and he gripped her
forearm. Agony tore up his side, but he tightened his hold,
dragging her onto the ramp. She ran on, hauling him with
her.
    They made it inside and she slapped
the cargo door shut. Metal groaned. He hauled her around the corner
as more shots hit the cargo doors. Breath came in painful
gasps.
    He touched his tender ribs and
wondered if something had broken in the fight.
    “Ramp’s closing. Get us the