owner to do so.
“You just gonna leave them here?” she asked.
He ignited the slider thrusters, and it rumbled smoothly to life beneath them. “You think they’ll lie there long?”
She shook her head. “No, you’re right. Before the medtechs or cops arrive, they’ll be rolled for whatever’s left, and the bodies dumped in the bay or the nearest incinerator.”
She nodded at the red glow lighting the night sky behind a large building and shivered. “Hope I never end up there.”
“If you do, you won’t care,” he pointed out. “You’ll be dead.”
Liss lived in a tiny room eighteen floors up in an old apartment building where the passageways and elevators stank of urine and vomit. But it was shelter for the night, and Lode had reached his limits physically. He parked the slider in an empty stall in the building’s port, shouldered his duffel and followed her.
Inside her apartment, which had just room for a sagging bed, a lav, an old divan and a tiny kitchen area with a table for two, he dropped his bag on the floor, and headed straight for the bed, leaving on his leather jacket as the room was none too warm.
As he collapsed onto the rickety bed it creaked alarmingly under him, but it would do for the night.
“How d’you want me?”
He forced his eyes open. The blonde stood in the center of the room, still wearing her pimp’s long duster. Her gaze was full of dull resignation.
“You can share the bed if you like,” he told her. “But that’s all.”
“Right,” she muttered.
He yawned and scrubbed one hand over his gritty face, grimacing at the smell on his hands, but too tired to get up and clean them.
“Listen, I don’t fuck women who don’t want me, and you don’t. So relax.” Also, he was too exhausted to even think about sex.
Under her astonished gaze, he reached under the pillow, pulled out the thin blanket she’d left folded there, and tossed it to her. “Sleep beside me, or wherever you choose. I don’t care.”
She eyed him nervously, then moved to the grimy divan, and curled up, the blanket over the duster.
“Vince owes me a lot of credit,” she said. “I saw you take his com.”
“We’ll discuss it in the morning,” he muttered. “Now for God’s sake, woman, be quiet.”
Chapter Nine
The next morning Liss woke with a start as the door of her apartment opened with a creak. Oh, God, she’d left it unlocked ... or the creeper across the passageway had finally figured out how to break past her locks.
But when she peered cautiously over the edge of her blanket, blade in her hand, she saw a tall, broad-shouldered man in dark leathers, dropping take-out boxes on her rickety table beside a carafe of something that smelled tantalizingly of better times. Relief made her sag like an empty garment. Her protector was back—alone, not with customers who’d want to use her.
“Hungry?” he asked, without looking at her. He was still chewing as if he’d started eating on the way up here.
She was hungry enough to do whatever he wanted in exchange for the roll he was pulling from one of his boxes. And sex wouldn’t be so bad with him. He was fairly clean, and while the flat coldness of his gaze last night while he confronted Vince and his lover had terrified her almost as much as Vince had, this man had remained calm through the whole confrontation, instead of working up a fury he then took out on her, as Vince liked to do.
This man was a killer, and had no qualms about taking what he wanted from his victims. But then all the males she knew on these streets, and most of the females too, would have done the same. And they wouldn’t have rescued her, either.
“Yeah,” she said, rising from her nest. “I’m hungry.” She shrugged off Vince’s duster and grabbed her cheap robe from a hook on the wall, belting it on over her dress for warmth. With the ease of long habit she adjusted the robe to best display her cleavage, and fluffed her hair with her
“You just gonna leave them here?” she asked.
He ignited the slider thrusters, and it rumbled smoothly to life beneath them. “You think they’ll lie there long?”
She shook her head. “No, you’re right. Before the medtechs or cops arrive, they’ll be rolled for whatever’s left, and the bodies dumped in the bay or the nearest incinerator.”
She nodded at the red glow lighting the night sky behind a large building and shivered. “Hope I never end up there.”
“If you do, you won’t care,” he pointed out. “You’ll be dead.”
Liss lived in a tiny room eighteen floors up in an old apartment building where the passageways and elevators stank of urine and vomit. But it was shelter for the night, and Lode had reached his limits physically. He parked the slider in an empty stall in the building’s port, shouldered his duffel and followed her.
Inside her apartment, which had just room for a sagging bed, a lav, an old divan and a tiny kitchen area with a table for two, he dropped his bag on the floor, and headed straight for the bed, leaving on his leather jacket as the room was none too warm.
As he collapsed onto the rickety bed it creaked alarmingly under him, but it would do for the night.
“How d’you want me?”
He forced his eyes open. The blonde stood in the center of the room, still wearing her pimp’s long duster. Her gaze was full of dull resignation.
“You can share the bed if you like,” he told her. “But that’s all.”
“Right,” she muttered.
He yawned and scrubbed one hand over his gritty face, grimacing at the smell on his hands, but too tired to get up and clean them.
“Listen, I don’t fuck women who don’t want me, and you don’t. So relax.” Also, he was too exhausted to even think about sex.
Under her astonished gaze, he reached under the pillow, pulled out the thin blanket she’d left folded there, and tossed it to her. “Sleep beside me, or wherever you choose. I don’t care.”
She eyed him nervously, then moved to the grimy divan, and curled up, the blanket over the duster.
“Vince owes me a lot of credit,” she said. “I saw you take his com.”
“We’ll discuss it in the morning,” he muttered. “Now for God’s sake, woman, be quiet.”
Chapter Nine
The next morning Liss woke with a start as the door of her apartment opened with a creak. Oh, God, she’d left it unlocked ... or the creeper across the passageway had finally figured out how to break past her locks.
But when she peered cautiously over the edge of her blanket, blade in her hand, she saw a tall, broad-shouldered man in dark leathers, dropping take-out boxes on her rickety table beside a carafe of something that smelled tantalizingly of better times. Relief made her sag like an empty garment. Her protector was back—alone, not with customers who’d want to use her.
“Hungry?” he asked, without looking at her. He was still chewing as if he’d started eating on the way up here.
She was hungry enough to do whatever he wanted in exchange for the roll he was pulling from one of his boxes. And sex wouldn’t be so bad with him. He was fairly clean, and while the flat coldness of his gaze last night while he confronted Vince and his lover had terrified her almost as much as Vince had, this man had remained calm through the whole confrontation, instead of working up a fury he then took out on her, as Vince liked to do.
This man was a killer, and had no qualms about taking what he wanted from his victims. But then all the males she knew on these streets, and most of the females too, would have done the same. And they wouldn’t have rescued her, either.
“Yeah,” she said, rising from her nest. “I’m hungry.” She shrugged off Vince’s duster and grabbed her cheap robe from a hook on the wall, belting it on over her dress for warmth. With the ease of long habit she adjusted the robe to best display her cleavage, and fluffed her hair with her
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