Shadow Run (Kaitan Chronicles #1)

Without much else to distract me, I downed the liquid in a gulp. My eyes and throat burned. Before I could even look for somewhere to set the glass, an unobtrusive server freed it from my hand.

I turned, startled by the unexpected motion, and almost groped a young woman standing nearby, deep in conversation with a much older man.

“I would be most delighted,” the man said to her, “if you would share a bit of insight as to the recent market upheaval. Your opinion is clearly more valuable than anyone else’s in this place.” He scoffed at our surroundings as if they were shabby.

I was about to scoff at his overblown flirtation, an advance as heavy-handed and swaggering as the one Solara was currently fending off on the other side of me, when something about the woman snagged my attention.

Her hair was shaved on either side of her ears, a center column frozen in a curling bronze wave, like an ocean roller, and her dress was a glittering midnight sheath, exposing sharp shoulders and collarbones. Her skin was sleek and coppery, shimmering nearly as much as her dress. That sly smile, coming from dark lips was what gave her away.

Basra. Almost certainly a woman at this moment, too. I almost shouted her name. So much for this member of my crew, at least, passing the night in boredom on the ship.

Basra met my eyes and held a painted fingertip to her lips—no doubt to keep me from identifying her.

I was too addled to do anything but nod dumbly.

And then Solara slipped her arm through mine and tugged me away into the crowd. Just like that, it was as if I’d only hallucinated Basra looking more stunning in a dress than most of the royal women at this party. Ancestors. I hoped at least Eton and Telu were both still safely on board.

What the blasted hell was Basra doing? Perhaps she was only trying to have a ritzy evening out with Arjan. But no, she wouldn’t have disobeyed my direct order to stay on the ship just for that. She had to be up to something else entirely. She could have turned or ducked away and I never would have been the wiser, so I suspected she wanted me to see her. I trusted her judgment, in that case…but I still would have liked to know what was going on.

And how in the systems could that man think my Shadow trader’s financial opinion was one of the most valuable in the galaxy? Basra should have been so outmatched here that any market advice of hers would have been laughable.

I didn’t have the time, or the ability, to investigate. Golden doors loomed nearly as tall as the indistinct ceiling at the end of the hallway, and the crowd made way for us. For Solara, rather, with me in tow behind her.

What am I doing here? The thought was like a gasp. This was crazy. Basra fit in better than I did. I belonged here like Solara belonged on Alaxak, working behind the counter with Larvut in Gamut’s only bar.

I was tempted to turn around in spite of Solara’s arm riveted to my own, but the ballroom stopped me short. Music rose in waves of stringed instruments over a deep undercurrent of synthetic bass that throbbed through my heels into the soles of my feet. Sleek, glistening masses of people swirled and pulsed to the sound, as colorful as the molecular clouds where I fished for Shadow. The room itself felt as endless as the black space around those clouds.

But I couldn’t take in much of the scene before my eyes followed gaps in the crowd, like paths leading me, to a grand dais. All around the sweeping, tiered platform hung swaths of translucent material lit from within by holograms that made the cloth look like an actual nebula, billowing in unreal, entwining patterns. Underneath this imaginary sky stood Nevarian Dracorte.

Nev’s light brown hair was more neatly combed than I’d ever seen it, falling effortlessly along the sides of his ridiculously perfect face. But it wasn’t his face that made the air leave my lungs and my stomach plummet as if I were crash-landing. It was what was behind the face: the ironic arch of his brow, the challenging spark in his eyes, and the laugh on his lips. It was him.

A strange mix of both relief and longing hit me like a tidal wave. It suddenly didn’t matter that I was furious with him. He was the one familiar thing in the whole ballroom. My eyes clung to the sight of him as if he were an island and I was drowning. I desperately wanted him to take my hand again, to guide me through this without letting go, without letting me lose myself.

I hardly noticed the woman actually by his side, holding his hand: Ket, in a swooping gown of white and silver. That was how intensely I was staring. How crazy I was. Nev was a prince, heir to a throne, betrothed to a sharp ice-fish of a princess, and I was a rough, ragged fishing captain from a forgotten corner of the galaxy. We were beyond polar opposites…but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

He looked more royal than ever before, every inch a prince, and I wasn’t sure if I loved it or hated it. His suit glinted in shades of black, and his vest gleamed the darkest blue. His tie shone bright silver to match his eyes, eyes that were scanning the crowd.

They rested for a moment on a woman in a daring red gown, and I realized, with a start, that it was Solara. She had slipped away, leaving me standing alone. I didn’t know how long I’d been staring like an idiot at Nev, but it was enough that she was now on the other side of the vast room. His gaze slid away from her and up to the ceiling, as if searching for something up there, then dropped back down…and found me.

Our eyes met, and now the entire room faded away: all sounds, colors, and faces. Everyone’s but his.





Over and over, I had to push Qole from my mind.

Even Ket, stunning as always in a silver dress cut just low enough and just high enough to encourage the eye to carry on, merely made me wonder what Qole was going to be wearing tonight. I hoped she would forgive me for whatever Solara had done to her. For that matter, I hoped she would forgive me for bringing her here. I had been so stupidly, selfishly na?ve and excited to show off Luvos and Dracorva to her, I had completely failed to see how out of place she’d be, how surprised she’d be by my family. By Ket.

“If I could just get her alone” seemed to have been my motto when I’d started on Alaxak, and it still was, even now that I was back on Luvos. Perhaps we should just stick to ships where people want to kill me, I thought bitterly, smiling at Ket in the same instant. My face must have gone through a brief spasm before it found the right shape.

“Ket, you look ravishing, as expected.”

She smiled just enough to show her dimples and coyly turned her head, as it just so happened, in the direction of the media. “Why, thank you, my prince.”

Michael Miller's books