Born of Fire

Trust no one at your back unless you want them to bury a knife in it.

And he’d actually pulled her to safety with him. What the hell had he been thinking?

That Caillen would be upset if he let her get hurt. Of course, not nearly as upset as Syn would be if he died over it . . .

He must surely have brain damage.

Where had he picked up a conscience? And when? He’d always lived his life alone, without encumbrances.

No good deed goes unpunished—that was the one mantra he believed in above all others.

Now he was going to pay the price for his sudden tender heart because, no matter how much he might want to strangle Shahara, he knew he couldn’t let her go to prison for helping him.

Even if she did deserve to find out firsthand what it was like to live in hell. And no doubt when all of this was said and done, he’d be back in prison and she’d be free. It was just the way things went.

“Hello?” she said poking him once more in the side.

He stifled the urge to strike out. “What?”

“Why are we going to Ritadaria?”

Crossing his arms to protect his damaged ribs from her finger, he sank lower in his seat. “Maybe I’m tired of running. Maybe I’m still a fool for a pretty face. Ah, hell, maybe I’m just tired of living and I really don’t care if they do catch me anymore.”

Shahara sat back. What could one say to that? She certainly had no response.

Suddenly, the shuttle stopped. As the door swung open, she saw the small, city spaceport just a short distance away.

Stepping out onto the busy street, she glanced around at the various spacecraft docked in neat isolation channels that lined both sides of the port. All of the ships were small to medium in size with only a handful used for anything other than shuttles to larger crafts docked in a hangar that orbited the planet—large-bulk craft that weighed too much to ever be landed on a planet’s surface.

She frowned. “Why are we here?”

He sighed as he stopped by her side and looked at her as if she were dense. “I told you, we need a ship.”

“We have no money to buy passage.”

“Must you always get caught up in the details?”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Look, I’ve already broken more laws in the last two days than I’ve ever broken in my entire life. I’m not a criminal. I can’t do what you do.”

He sneered at her. “How nice for you. I’m so glad your precious morality was never compromised. Some of us weren’t so lucky.” He pulled his arm free of her grasp and gave her a look that froze her all the way to her toes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a ship to commandeer. Make sure you stay right by my side so that none of the cameras pick you up and transmit our location to our friends.”

He took a step away from her, then paused and turned around with an amused smile. “Or stay here and give the Rits my best, won’t you?”

Shahara growled low in her throat. She was going to kill this man. No doubt about it.

But first, she had to get away from the people who were tracking them and complete this godforsaken mission.

Trailing along after him, she crossed the bay. She couldn’t believe the open way he walked about, as if he were on honest business.

How could anyone be so sure of himself? Especially since he was about to steal a ship?

No wonder he never got caught.

He paused several times, looking at various ship markings, before he finally decided on one. He gave her a smug, taunting grin. “This one will do nicely, don’t you think?”

She clenched her teeth to prevent herself from speaking the lecture that blistered her tongue. He wouldn’t listen anyway. Why bother?

Besides, she admitted, it was a beautiful ship. Painted red and gold, it was of the largest of the rounded Fropane class. A freighter of renowned maneuverability and speed. Her brother had always dreamed of owning one. But they were for rich shippers. Not destitute pilots like Caillen who couldn’t even afford a place to live.

One of the bay’s attendants approached them. “May I help you, Frion?”

Syn inclined his head toward the ship. “Where’s her manifest and log?”

“They’re recording them now.”

“Has she been fueled?”

“Yes, sir. They did that first.”

“Good. Open her up.”

Without question, the man complied. Shahara frowned. It was that simple to steal ship?

Who knew?

Now that she thought about it, no one had ever questioned her when she’d docked her fighter here. Of course, no one in their right mind would ever want to take that rust heap.

Maybe it was just that Syn’s voice held such authority to it, his presence so much power, that no one dared to question his commands.

Still . . .

Like a graceful dancer, the hatch lowered. Automatically, the ramp extended itself for them. Thick, dark green carpet lined the walkway and Shahara fought the urge to take off her worn boots before she damaged the pristine fabric.

Syn took her elbow and led her up the ramp.