Born of Fire

They were her family.

The only family she’d ever have. She couldn’t hurt them any more than a mother could hurt her own children.

What a way to pay a man back for helping you. Gah, I suck as a human being.

Her thoughts spinning, she felt a sudden need to be alone. She had to think through this. To find some way out of the mess she’d created.

She tossed the towel into the sink. “I’ve got some errands to run. If you leave before I get back, lock my door.”

“Get some more friggles while you’re gone.”

Shahara barely heard her over the buzz in her ears. She couldn’t accept this latest mission. Someway, somehow she’d to find a way to get them to release her from her million credit contract.

So much for release. Merjack was a bastard of the first order and he’d insisted she see her contract for the chip through or lose her license.

Then where would she be?

In the gutter with the rest of the rats.

Disgusted, Shahara glanced at the outside of the toughest prison in the Ichidian Universe. Inside the twenty-two-foot high, white-speckled walls resided the most dangerous felons who’d ever lived.

Never in her life had she been more afraid. She still couldn’t believe she was doing this. What had she been thinking when she’d made her agreement?

Tessa’s life.

And the money, of course. But right now, staring up at the force field that surrounded the high walls, money just didn’t seem all that important. Especially not when her life was about to be on the line.

Just one slip, and she was sure Merjack would toss her into a cell with Syn.

Or worse, Syn would cut her throat.

She sighed wearily. “Dang, Caillen,” she whispered. “I really wish you’d pick a better class of friends.”

Her throat tight, she walked down the cold, gray walkway where six armed guards eyed her warily.

Easy, girl. No fast moves.

Men of this caliber were like animals. They attacked whenever they sensed weakness.

Curling her lip at them, she approached the search station where they scanned people for weapons and credentials. She had to remain composed if she was to live through this mission.

You will be completely on your own. No one will acknowledge you as working with us. You will be a fugitive on the run the same as Syn until you return with the him and the chip. Only then will you be cleared of this matter. Do not fail.

Because if she did, they would execute her too. Heck of a leverage tool they were using on her.

Closing her eyes, she wished she’d never even heard the name C.I. Syn.

“Papers?” the guard asked.

She handed them over. It’d taken four days to get the “forged” papers she needed to release Syn from prison. And as each day passed, she’d feared more and more for her life. Especially if Caillen ever found out.

If only Tessa would learn her lesson about gambling and get-rich-quick schemes . . .

Yeah, like that would ever happen. Thanks Dad for that life lesson.

Once the guards cleared her, she headed for the Vice Warden’s office and pressed the buzzer for entrance.

“Yes?” a sharp, irritated voice asked over the intercom.

“I’m here for a prisoner transfer.”

A click sounded and the steel gray door slid up. This was it. Just one more step and then there would be no turning back. Her heart hammering, she entered the green office, the color reminding her of mold.

There were no pictures on the walls, probably to keep some prisoner from breaking one and using the glass or frame as a weapon. Two brown, steel desks were set beside a larger one that must have been designated for the Officer in Charge. All were bolted to the floor.

At present, only one man occupied the office. A greasy little fellow who looked up from the first of the two smaller desks. “Papers?” He extended his frail hand.

She stepped up to his desk and handed the disc that contained the forgeries to him.

He put the disc into his reader and glanced at the orders for a moment, then looked back at her. “These are for Syn.”

Keep your composure, Shahara. Don’t move a facial muscle you don’t have to.

“Yes, I know. He’s also wanted on Gouran for the rape and murder of Princess Kiara Zamir. I’m here to escort him over for trial.”

The little man pushed his glasses back up on his nose and frowned. “Minister Merjack won’t like this. I think we should wait until he gets back tomorrow before we release C.I. Syn to you.”

Shahara shrugged. “Fine. You can call President Zamir and tell him that you’ve authorized the delay. I’m sure he’ll be understanding. After all, she was his only child.”

The man gulped, his eyes widening in fear of the notoriously brutal president and military commander who was rumored to have once gutted a man for just ogling his daughter while they dined. “We . . . we wouldn’t want him upset, would we?”