Born of Fire

Mara fell to the ground, sobbing.

But she took no pity on her. “Syn may be too much of a gentleman to hit you, but I’m not. I’m not only ashamed to call you human, I’m completely disgusted that we share the same gender. You want to know the truth? The only filth in this room is you, and you’re the one who doesn’t deserve to breathe our air. Decent’s got nothing to do with birthright. It’s all about actions, and trust me, you’re the lowest form I’ve ever met and I’ve taken in the worst scum imaginable. But I’d rather sit at the table with them than you any day.”

She turned toward Syn, who stepped back, eyes wide, as if he feared she might hit him next. Grabbing him by the shirt, she pulled him from the room.

Syn was stunned and amazed by what Shahara had done. No one had ever defended him like that. The fact that she had . . .

He could kiss her.

“Damn, Shay . . . damn.”

She sighed as the lift’s doors closed behind them. “I know. I’m not a lady.”

He cupped her cheek in his hand and tilted her face until she looked up at him. “You’re more of a lady than any woman I’ve ever met. And I would take one of you over a thousand Maras any day. Thank you.”

She smiled a smile that warmed him. “You’re welcome . . . You think she called security?”

“Yes.”

“We need to run as soon as the doors open, don’t we?”

He laughed. “Always.”

Sure enough, the doors opened to show four security guards waiting on them.

Syn let out a tired sigh as he tucked the chip in his pocket. “You kick down two and I’ve got the others.”

“You got it.” She headed for the furthest two while he took out the two closest. She caught the first one with a kick to the groin that dropped him and the second with a chop to his throat and a percussion blow to his ears.

An alarm sounded.

Syn left his two vics on the floor and grabbed her hand to pull her through the building and out to the yard. It was a close escape, but again, they made it off campus and back to the hangar before anyone else found them.

Unfortunately, getting out of the hangar wasn’t quite so easy since they had it sealed off and refused to give them flight clearance.

Seated in the fighter while Vik shook in her arms, she looked over at Syn. “What are we going to do?”

“Bet our lives that they don’t want to shut this hangar down for a few weeks to do repairs.”

Her stomach hit the floor at his tone of voice. She had a sick feeling she knew what he meant. “Don’t.”

The word had barely left her lips before Syn gunned the engines. “Open the doors or I’m blasting them out,” he told the controller.

“Shut down your engines. Now!”

Syn didn’t hesitate.

Shahara bit her lip to keep from crying out in protest as he opened fire on the doors. Vik actually prayed in her lap.

“Syn . . . we’re not going to make it.”

He didn’t back off.

Suddenly, the doors snapped open and he flew through them.

Shahara leaned her head back and groaned out loud as she tried to calm herself. “I really hate it when you do that.”

He laughed. “Yeah . . . I prefer to be drunk when I do it. It’s easier that way.”

“Drunk or sober, you have more balls than any man I’ve ever known.”

“You’ve never flown with your brother.”

He had a good point. Caillen was one step just this side of crazy. And most days it wasn’t even a full step.

Raking her hands through her hair, she glanced over at him. “So what’s the plan now?”

He cleared orbit before he answered. “Hail Merjack.”

She watched as he plugged in the frequency to call him. He answered almost immediately.

Syn’s voice was deceptively calm. “I have the chip.”

“Good rat.” His tone was filled with disdain. “I see you’ve finally come to your senses about giving me what I want.”

Syn’s eyes hardened. “Where do we make the exchange?”

“Primer’s Point at Ritadaria’s Olten Square. Tonight at eight.”

“Wait,” Shahara said, sitting forward to allow Merjack to see her. “I’ll bring the chip to you and you better have my sister there.”

A slow smile curved his lips as he saw her. “Well, well, the tracer has finally shown herself. Very well. I’ll see you then.” He cut the transmission.

Syn turned his murderous glare to her. “What are you doing?”

If only she knew . . . but her primary focus was to keep him out of jail. “He can’t capture you if you’re not there.”

His features softened. “No, but he can take you.”

“He won’t.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Trust me,” she said, hoping she could work out another deal with Merjack before it was too late.

If not, Syn would probably kill her himself.

Shahara checked her chronometer as she waited at the designated time and place. It was almost eight-thirty and still no Merjack.