Wyvern’s Outlaw Read online

  He wanted more.

  He wanted all she had to give.

  He’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted Anguissa. Right here and right now. Fast and hard. And then again. It had to be the novelty or sheer desperation, but for the moment, Ryke didn’t care. He wanted to strip her out of her suit and claim her over and over and over again, to frack with the Gloria Furore and Captain Hellemut and anyone else stupid enough to get in the way.

  But he hadn’t come this far to get captured again before his escape was complete.

  In fact, her effect upon him was proof that all the old stories were true. An abomination like a dragon shifter could mess up his priorities, change his thinking, persuade him to make a foolish choice.

  If he stayed with Anguissa, he could be a dead man.

  Strange how being with her made him feel so alive, as if he’d awakened for the first time. Was that part of her power?

  He broke their kiss with an effort, liking the heat in her eyes. Those flames were back, the ones that reminded him of her truth, and he found it exciting that she was so dangerous. Her hair looked like snakes again and he smiled that they were writhing.

  Just the way he felt like writhing with her.

  Once couldn’t hurt.

  And then he’d know what it was like.

  “Resistance is futile, Ryke,” she purred, her passion making him want to forget the Gloria Furore even more than he did.

  “Let’s get out of here first,” he said, then led her to the next airlock. He was almost running in his haste to get to the deck, but it was a desire to get the jump behind them so he could seduce Anguissa that was making him run, not the need to escape.

  They reached the deck and strapped down simultaneously. She took a long swig of water as Piper Twelve presented the nav system to Ryke for him to approve the coordinates of their pre-set destination. It was three short jumps home, and he took the opportunity to pre-program the intermediary cruises in case he felt too lousy to fly. He started the rejuvenation for Bakiel, who was in stasis in the hold.

  By the time they got to Centurios, he’d feel like something that should be scraped off the bottom of his boot. Anguissa would probably feel worse, given that she’d done at least another jump before him.

  But it was the only way out.

  At least Bakiel would be awake.

  A laser collided with the hull and shook the freighter, as if to remind him to hurry. Ryke looked at Anguissa, she nodded, and they jumped.

  Resistance is futile.

  Anguissa’s words summoned Ryke’s nightmare. He dreamed of his days and nights on the moon of Formican, where he had been tested by the Gloria Furore for his endurance. He’d been right about the ransom—no one on Centurios had paid for him—and the pirates hadn’t managed to sell a reputed umbro to anyone else without proof of his abilities. He refused to slip and show his skills, because of that old vow to be different. Instead, they chose to use him as a test, to discover the limits of his endurance to refine their torture protocol.

  It was supposed to break him.

  Instead, the torture hardened everything within Ryke, forging his anger into a determination to survive that would never abandon him. The legacy of Formican’s moon was Ryke’s resolve to never surrender, to never yield, and to never ever reveal his depth of his hatred for his captors. Everything became black and white to him, simple and linear, with the need to survive trumping every other objective.

  It had only taken three baths in fire ants to convince him to pretend to crumble. He’d never forget the pain of millions of pincers biting and gnawing through his flesh. He’d never forget the weeks of agony as the wounds healed. He’d certainly never forget the unguents that were applied to his skin to make the torment last longer.

  It had been the worst period of his life.

  It had taught him to lie, to hate, and to plan for vengeance. It had forged him into a different man, one fueled by fury.

  He’d had to convince the interrogator to believe him, but do it without slipping. It hadn’t been easy, but Ryke had succeeded.

  In his nightmare, though, he relived the failure, not the triumph. He was immersed to the neck in fire ants one more time. They were biting and chewing at his flesh, thousands and thousands of them. Every increment of his body hurt or burned or was in anguish. He struggled, unable to break away from them. Of course not. The baths were vats filled with fire ants, vats into which prisoners like Ryke were lowered slowly, left, then raised to relief.

  And lowered again.

  It was as excruciating as he remembered but he was surprised to realize this time that his hands weren’t bound. He swatted at his shoulder when he was bitten, and his hand was immediately bitten, too.

  It wasn’t a dream.

  The bite was too big.

  Ryke opened his eyes to find the jump completed, the freighter drifting close to a red sun, and the snakes of Anguissa’s hair snapping at him. She was still unconscious from the jump, but her snakes were wide awake. They twisted in agitation, their eyes shining bright yellow, and he assumed he had been wrong about them revealing her innermost thoughts.

  He felt rather than heard someone step onto the deck. Everything within him quickened with the certainty that they were in peril.

  Who else was on board?

  Ryke reached for the weapon he’d taken from Anguissa on the Armada Seven and spun to his feet, firing at the portal. Anguissa had already leaped into action. Apparently, she hadn’t been asleep. She vaulted over the deck, shifting to her dragon form in the blink of an eye, and fried the android at the portal.

  There was no sign of Piper Twelve.

  Ryke struggled to follow her, shaking off the shards of his nightmare. Anguissa seemed to show no ill effects from the jump. She reached one claw through the doorway. She hauled half a dozen struggling androids back through the opening and crushed them between her talons. There was weapon fire on the other side of the door and she glanced to Ryke.

  She had to shift to go through the door or risk destroying the air lock.

  He nodded, moving to cover her. She flung the shattered androids through the door and Ryke stepped forward to fire, intending to create chaos on the other side.

  “Thirty,” he muttered, glad it wasn’t more but wishing there might have been fewer of them. Anguissa darted through the door and shifted to her dragon form on the other side. He wondered if there were any limitations to how often she could do that. The android soldiers fired their weapons and charged, even as Anguissa loosed a stream of dragon fire on them.

  Ryke could feel the heat of their metal shells and smelled circuits burning. They continued, though, unable to stop themselves from following the command, and he fired into their midst. He blinded some and shot off the limbs of others. Anguissa shredded the ones foolish enough to get close to her and smashed others against the walls. She crushed them underfoot, casting Ryke weapons as she destroyed the androids carrying them.

  The battle was over with ridiculous speed. Ryke sighed and pushed a hand through his hair as he surveyed the smoking debris.

  “Don’t tell me,” he said. “You hate robots.”

  Instead of answering him, Anguissa’s eyes flashed with fire. She leaped toward him and smashed an android into the wall behind him. Ryke hadn’t even heard that one approaching.

  It slid down the wall, not quite finished, and appealed to him for mercy with one outstretched mechanical hand. The gesture reminded him too clearly of Hellemut’s last appeal. He raised his weapon and fired into its eyes, extinguishing one after the other.

  Anguissa would have ripped out its circuitry, but he held up a hand to stop her. She waited, watching as Ryke typed a message into the console on the android’s chest.

  “Mission accomplished,” it said in a broken voice, then Ryke nodded.

  Anguissa shredded the android, smashing its remains on the floor. He admired her thoroughness and her strength.

  She shifted shape and stood beside him, her brea
th coming quickly. “Mission accomplished?” she echoed, and glanced up at him.

  “Someone gave the command to attack. It stood to reason that it might still be in contact with that someone.”

  “It would have been if you had programmed it.”

  “Exactly. It was important they didn’t have time to ask whose mission was accomplished.”

  Her smile was fleeting. “I hope there’s a crusher on the trash disposal,” she said, surveying the damage. “And a means of jettisoning it all. I’m not sleeping with any of these bits still on the ship.”

  What had happened to give her such a distrust of robots?

  “When did you start planning to sleep?” he asked and she laughed.

  “Afterward, you’ll need to.”

  Ryke thought they both would. He intended to make sure of it.

  “There’s a crusher right down here,” he said and began to sweep the chunks toward the disposal.

  Anguissa helped. “How much do you know about this ship anyway?”

  “I thought as much as I needed to.”

  “Which means you didn’t know about them.”

  “They weren’t here the last time I was.”

  “Sounds like you really might be unforgettable, Ryke, and that you pissed someone off.” Anguissa almost smiled. “Does this count as a mistake?”

  Ryke grinned despite himself. “Maybe we’re even, Snake-Eyes.”

  “What happens next?”

  “Half a day cruise until the next jump.”

  Anguissa groaned. “How many more?”

  “Just two more short ones until home. Look on the bright side. We can scatter this debris in the wormhole and make it tougher for anyone following us.”

  “That is a bright side.” She swept with greater purpose, clearly unafraid of hard work. He stole glances at her as they worked together, admiring more than her inviting curves. She was practical and tough, as well as sexy.

  He wished she could have simply been a woman, instead of a dragon shifter. If women had been like this on Centurios, Ryke wouldn’t have been so determined to remain unattached.

  But Anguissa was a dragon shifter, and he needed to keep that in mind. Even though he had a feeling Anguissa was trouble and then some, he was looking forward to her making it worth his while to rescue her. What would she be like as a lover? He couldn’t imagine her surrendering to anyone over anything, but he’d never been with a demanding lover either.

  The women of Centurios, including the mother of his son, simply let intimacy happen to them. They didn’t participate. They didn’t reciprocate. The princesses of Centurios were the highest caste of passive women, kept and pampered so they could service the most powerful men in the realm—or the sons of those men. They knew their place. They were ornamental. Useful for the procreation of children. Interchangeable and forgettable. Mostly silent.

  Ryke couldn’t remember a woman who made choices, let alone demands. He didn’t know any who had opinions or spoke up, or explained what they wanted. He’d never known one who could have fired a weapon or fought, much less won a battle or defended his back.

  Ryke had a feeling sex was going to be really different with Anguissa.

  Maybe he was going to have to tame her.

  He couldn’t wait to find out.

  Three

  “What kind of princess are you, anyway?” Ryke asked and Anguissa flashed him a look.

  “A runaway one.” Her smile was rueful. “I’m no diplomat. Court life wasn’t for me.”

  Did that make them two of a kind? “But shipping contraband was?”

  She seemed to hold back a laugh. Her eyes were twinkling and it was easy to forget that she was a dragon shifter who could annihilate anything or anyone she chose. “They sent me to law school, which was a big mistake.”

  Ryke found himself smiling, even as he tried to remember the truth of her nature and its effect upon his kind. “You know enough to keep yourself out of trouble.”

  Anguissa nodded. “You see, it’s not technically contraband most of the time. Where I make acquisitions, my purchases are perfectly legal. It’s the delivery of them in places where they aren’t legal that puts me outside the law. I never linger, so the vast majority of the time, I’m not in violation of local or intergalactic law.”

  “What about on Incendium?”

  “I like to think my father would be merciful, but that might be optimistic.”

  Ryke snorted.

  “It sounds like you share my skepticism.”

  “In my experience, fathers can’t be relied upon to be merciful, not when the alternative is upholding the law.”

  She leaned on her sweeper and considered him. “‘Duty first and above all else’ could be my father’s motto, Soul-Stealer.”

  “Mine, too, Fire-Starter.”

  Instead of being insulted or offended, Anguissa laughed and resumed sweeping. “I’ve never tested him on it because he can be pretty tough. I usually arrive in home port with an empty hold.”

  “Usually?”

  “Not this last time. I have to wonder what he made of that haul.” She shrugged but he sensed that she was troubled by something. What had she been carrying? For the first time in a very long time, Ryke was tempted to slip into someone else’s mind—but he didn’t want to risk losing the company of this unexpectedly interesting princess. “It’s probably all been incinerated by now. Too bad. I hadn’t had a good look at it all.”

  “You bought a haul without looking? That doesn’t seem very sensible.”

  “Not sensible at all. It was impulsive.” She was unapologetic. As a man who planned every detail and always had, Ryke was fascinated and appalled. “I was curious.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity.”

  Anguissa laughed easily. “And it’s true! It was an auction. Big lots, no investigation, being sold in a hurry. Just the circumstances made me think the goods might be interesting to someone somewhere.”

  “But you never looked?”

  “There was no chance.”

  “Even after you bought?”

  “The auction was raided just as we were loading it all.” She averted her gaze, even turning her back on him, and Ryke wondered if this was all true. “We didn’t wait to see which authority it was, but got out of there fast. We had to jump long to have a chance, so I went straight for Incendium. You know how it is in a long jump. If you’re lucky, you miss most of it and wake up feeling like junk. If you’re unlucky, it feels as if time has stretched just to make you pay for your sins.”

  Ryke nodded agreement. He thought about mentioning the nightmares but decided against it. That was probably the price of his personal sins.

  “We’d only just docked when my sister asked for my help.” Anguissa paused and looked up, her shock clear. “Which means Thalina is sitting on that stash. Frack, I hope it’s not as dangerous as I suspected it might be.”

  “Your sister’s not a fighter?”

  “My sister is too precise for battle. No broad-stroke solutions for Thalina. She has to get all the details exactly right, no matter how long it takes.”

  “Warfare wouldn’t be her strength.”

  “Not fighting in the thick of it. She’d have to calculate every blow and look for the ideal strike. She’d be a good strategist, though, planning the battle ahead of time.”

  “When she had time to consider all the possibilities.”

  “Exactly. She makes amazing automatons. The only thing we have in common besides lineage is that we both do something that our father disapproves of.”

  Ryke snorted.

  “You have sisters or brothers, Ryke?”

  “No. My father said he only needed one son.”

  “And your mother?”

  Ryke blinked. “I doubt anyone asked her.”

  Anguissa’s eyes narrowed. “Why am I thinking that I wouldn’t love Centurios?”

  “You wouldn’t see its best side. Once your nature was known, it would be the arena f
or you.”

  “The arena?”

  “Blood sport for entertainment. Abominations have to be destroyed, so there might as well be entertainment.”

  Anguissa grimaced. “Always blood,” she mused, then turned away from him again. Ryke felt the change in her mood.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m remembering the wreckage left by an umbro that I saw in a space bar once,” she said quietly, then eyed him with distrust. “Why did you have to be one of them?”

  “I was born one,” Ryke replied, well accustomed to her reaction. On Centurios, his kind were revered, but elsewhere, they were feared—and really, the reverence on Centurios was probably rooted in fear. “But I can choose how and when I use my powers.” He impaled her with a glance. “Why did you have to be a dragon shifter?”

  She smiled. “I was born one, but I can choose how and when I use my powers.” She leaned on her sweeper. “Let’s make a deal, Ryke.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “I won’t incinerate you and leave toasted shards of you in a corner, and you won’t invade my mind and leave me to bleed to death.”

  Ryke wouldn’t have done that anyway, but he appreciated that she’d reciprocate. “Deal,” he said and offered his hand.

  Anguissa smiled and slid her hand into his, her touch making him aware of how smooth her skin was. She gripped his hand, almost as strong as him, and closed the distance between them so that her breasts bumped against his chest. He could smell her skin and her arousal, the combination sending fire through his veins. “A handshake, Ryke?” she asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

  “It’s just a start,” he acknowledged, then bent and kiss her.

  “A ruse, maybe?” she murmured, her lips almost against his.

  “An invitation,” he clarified, then kissed her again. He meant the embrace to be quick, but Anguissa opened her mouth and slid her tongue across his lips. Her move felt wanton and inviting, and rare in his experience for that.