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  Trying not to be obvious, she headed into the bay and acted like she was inspecting ships and cargo, which was technically within the parameters of her job.

  Sort of.

  She scanned the ground crews, seeking an exceptionally tall male, with black hair, broad shoulders, a lethal predator's lope, and a quirky sense of biting, self-deprecating humor.

  Disappointment filled her when she didn't see him right away.

  Where could he be? He was a hard one to miss, even in a large crowd. Face it, dark Andarion males tended to stand out among her Fyreblood breed. Especially ones with his noble, badass carriage.

  "Hey, babe."

  She paused as her brother Davel came up from beside her and placed a kiss on her cheek. She gave him a light hug. "Hey. You just getting in?"

  Dressed black-on-black, her brother nodded. At six-two, he was a huge mass of overdeveloped muscles. Too big, in her opinion, with short, spiked white blond hair and silvery-white eyes that were identical to hers. As her older brother, he was forever overbearing and bossy--nosy to the extreme, and since the death of her husband, had tried to step in as Vasili's father with unwarranted advice and opinions on how her son should be raised. Something both she and her son weren't happy about. At the rate Davel was going, it was a race to see which of them took out a League contract for his life first--her, or Vas.

  Still, she loved him and knew he meant well. She just wished he'd stick to sending his own family into therapy, and leave her son for her to screw up alone.

  "Where's the rest of your crew?" she asked, looking around for them.

  "They took off already for home. I saw you over here, nosing around, and wanted to make sure everything was okay. Paka told me what happened with Vas. How'd slavers get ahold of him, anyway?"

  "I allowed him to go off with a small group of friends to Paraf Run." She glared at him as fury filled her over the near catastrophe. "Because of your wife."

  He paled. "My wife?"

  Hands on hips, she nodded as even more anger ripped through her. "Yes! Telling me that I was overprotective and ridiculous. That I needed to loosen my death grip on my child before I damaged his sense of independence and made him afraid to venture out on his own. So what happens the minute I relent? Sex slavers see his fair-hair and beautiful face, and grab him off the street. Thank you both for your expert opinions on parenting. You're both so awesome. 'Preciate it."

  He cursed under his breath. "Am I a widower?"

  "Not yet. You have your mother to thank for that, and the fact that your wife's pregnant and I didn't want the soul of your innocent unborn child on my conscience. But next time Fara interferes..."

  "You know she would have never risked Vasili."

  She held her hand up sharply to cut him off. "Don't care. She needs to stay out of my business. And so do you. How I raise my son is none of her concern, especially after this."

  He must have realized how close to death he stood because, for once, he backed down. "All right. I will have this discussion with her. Though I'm sure you've already done so."

  "Yes, I have. And yes, she's now terrified of me."

  He nodded. "Point taken. Do I need to buy her a wig?"

  Ushara snorted. "Don't push me, Davel. I'm still not over what could have happened to him. It was way too close and that boy is all I have in this realm. I've already buried my husband. I will not bury my son."

  He sobered, "I know. We were all shaken by it and you know I would die before I allowed harm to come to my blood." Frowning, he scanned the bay with her. "What are you looking for, anyway?"

  No sooner had he asked than her gaze fell to the very male she sought. Trying not to betray herself, she shrugged. "Nothing. Just passing through the area. Why don't you go on and say hi to your family? I know your kids have missed you. They need to know their paka's home."

  "You're lying about what you're up to, but fine. I know when you don't want me around." He kissed her cheek again and wandered off.

  Knowing her family wouldn't approve of her talking to an Ixurian, Ushara waited until he was out of sight before she headed straight to Jullien, who was working on the hydraulics system for a loader. Yet as she neared him, she noticed he wasn't moving with his usual fluid grace. Rather his movements were slow and laborious. Methodical.

  It wasn't until he jerked around, ready for battle, at her approach that she saw why.

  "Oh my God!" she gasped. One side of his face was swollen horribly from a beating. He could barely open his left eye and his lips were split and scabbed over. "What happened to you? Did you get run down by a freighter?" she breathed, moving forward to touch him so that she could examine his injuries.

  Stepping out of her reach, he glanced around before he returned to working. "What can I say, mu tara? I make friends everywhere I go." As he bent over to retrieve a wrench, his shirt rode up his back to expose more bruises along his spine.

  Horrified, she pulled it away from his skin to reveal the true nightmare of what had been done to him. Dear gods, she could see the entire outline of heel and toe prints. "What is this?"

  He took his shirttail from her hands and tugged it down. "I believe the term is boot party."

  "Jullien ... did you report this to the HCs?"

  "Why? It's the only time in my life anyone's ever thought enough of me to bother hosting any kind of party in my honor. I'm actually quite touched that they went to the trouble."

  "You're not funny." She pulled her link out. "I want the names and descriptions of everyone you remember."

  With stoic features, he pushed her link down. "I don't remember anything, Admiral. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have work to do."

  His curt tone wounded her. And come to think of it, he was acting very strange. Not his usual charming self. Rather, he was standoffish and cold. He wouldn't even meet her gaze.

  "What's wrong with you?"

  "Nothing, mu tara. I merely have a lot of work to do, and I really need to see to it."

  Her heart lurched as she finally understood what had happened. "They beat you for eating with me, didn't they?"

  He sighed, but still wouldn't meet her gaze. "I was merely educated on Tavali custom and code, and where I fit into your society."

  "And you're okay with what they did to you? You're content to let them get away with this and not be punished for it?"

  He shrugged. "Why not? Been known to employ such tactics myself to teach others a lesson. While I'm a lot of worthless things, Admiral, I'm not a hypocrite. And I'm a big believer in karma. Figured I deserved it. At any rate, it got their point across to me with resounding clarity. It's definitely something I won't forget any time soon."

  "Hey!"

  Ushara turned at the sharp, angry call to find one of her older cousins headed for them from the opposite side of the bay. From where she stood, he couldn't see her, but she had a clear line of sight to him.

  Istaf stormed toward Jullien with his furious ass-kicking swagger. At six-six, he was a mountainous, muscled snow beast who intimated everyone around him, and always had. Most skittered from his path like mice fleeing a starving cat.

  Jullien, however, held his ground courageously and didn't flinch at his approach. Rather, he calmly wiped his hands off and faced him with an irritated, challenging smirk that was as admirable as it was stupid.

  "You the slag shit what beat my little brother down?"

  While Jullien might have refrained from meeting her gaze, he leveled a killing stare at Istaf. "Depends. Your brother the pussy bastard who attacks an unarmed civ in a pack like a rabid dog?"

  Growling in rage, Istaf started forward.

  So did Jullien.

  Ushara put herself between them. "Whoa! What is this? Istaf, explain yourself. Now!"

  "He beat the hell out of Silig. Put him in the hospital. I'm here to make sure he pays for it."

  Her jaw dropping, she faced Jullien. "Is Silig the one who attacked you?"

  Jullien glanced away.

  She faced Istaf. "Did Silig attack him?"

  "You're not seriously defending a piece of crap slag over one of our own, are you?"

  "When he's the one who single-handedly saved my son's life and returned Vas to me unharmed, I am. Are you telling me that my own blood dared harm the very male I brought here out of gratitude for saving my son? A male Trajen extended his own hospitality to?"

  Istag paled. "What?"

  "Yeah, you missed that part of it, did you?"

  "What's going on here?" Davel asked as he must have seen the blood fury in Istaf's gait and doubled back to make sure everything was all right.

  Ushara gestured toward her cousin. "This idiot was about to beat down on the male I offered sanctuary to, who saved Vasili." She spun on Jullien. "Look at what the imbeciles did to him already!"

  Davel shoved at Istaf. "What the hell, man? What's wrong with you?"

  "I didn't know. Besides, I was doing it to protect your sister. Silig said Lev caught some indigent comet slag snaking on her, and that he needed to be put in his place. How was I to know the indigent slag was the same slag that saved Vasili?"

  Ushara curled her lip in disgust. "As if I need you to protect me. Really? Do I look like your wife? For your information, I happen to have two blasters, and a license to use them. Minsid hell, kyz!"

  "Uh yeah," Davel agreed. "If you recall, the last male who tried to force a dance with my little sister is still undergoing surgeries to have both his testicles retrieved from his nostrils."

  She rolled her eyes as her brother piled on. "I'm not that bad."

  "No? I beg you to ask the guy whose testicles haven't redescended after three years. I promise you he would emphatically disagree. Testicle retrieval surgery is no laughing matter."

  Ushara wasn't amused. "I still maintain that he racked his own balls."

  "No male racks his own balls that hard. Trust me."

  "You don't know," she snorted. "You weren't there."

  "Yeah, but I've fought enough with you to know who racked what and how, and especially how hard. In fact, my balls still crawl back into my body out of survival instinct any time you come near me. And that's just from bad childhood flashbacks."

  "Hey, where's he going?" Istaf jerked his chin toward Jullien who was slowly walking backward, toward the bay's offices.

  Jullien froze as the three of them turned to face him. "This entire line of conversation was making me rather uncomfortable. Therefore, I thought it best I remove my testicles out of everyone's striking range."

  Davel burst out laughing. "Smart male. I like him already." He sobered as he saw the damage done to Jullien's face. A tic started in his jaw as he returned to glare at his cousin. "You do that to him?"

  "No. Silig and a group of his cronies did it. But--" Istaf held his hand up to cut off Davel's words when he started to interrupt. "You should see what this slag bastard did to them. He beat the utter hell out of every one of 'em. Honestly, I was expecting someone about twice his size."

  Jullien tossed his wrench into the toolbox by his feet. "Yeah, me and Gondarion spiderweed. We don't go down easy."

  "Then why'd you come after him alone," Davel asked Istaf defensively.

  "Well I wasn't, at first, until I saw him. Then I just thought my brother was an idiot."

  Jullien arched a brow at that. "In that case, you owe Admiral Altaan a debt of gratitude. She just saved you a universe of hurt and an operation for wrench retrieval from a place you don't want to know where I was planning to shove it."

  Istaf stiffened. "You don't look like much of a threat, boy."

  "Yeah, and I'm the one walking and working, while your brother's the one laid up in a hospital bed." Jullien twirled another wrench before he set it down.

  Istaf took a step forward, but Davel caught him and forced him back. "Enough. You," he said to his cousin. "Go home."

  Istaf passed a disgruntled sneer at Jullien before he complied.

  Jullien returned to work.

  Ushara placed her hand over Jullien's as he reached for a monitor and stopped him. "You need to see a doctor."

  "I'm fine," he said without looking up.

  She caught his chin gently in her palm and forced him to meet her gaze.

  Jullien couldn't breathe as he stared down at the warm concern in her pale eyes. As he felt the heat of her hand on his skin.

  "Please?"

  He savored that single word before he spoke the truth. "I can't afford the down time. I have to make rent. Besides, I've had much worse beatings. Trust me. This isn't so bad."

  She dropped her well-manicured hand down to his bruised one. The contrast between them was startling. Not just that hers was so pale compared to his, but the delicate bones and softness of her skin. "I'll go away if you do one thing."

  "What?"

  "Take your shirt off. If Davel agrees that he thinks you don't need a doctor, I'll leave you alone."

  Her brother made a sound of supreme protest. "How did I get dragged into this?"

  "You're an irritable ass who loves to fight, and you've broken and bruised enough ribs that I trust you to know whether or not Jullien should be working while injured. Plus I can judge by your facial expression how bad his injuries are 'cause I know you that well."

  Jullien ground his teeth. "And if I refuse?"

  "I'm going to suspend you from work and order you to the infirmary for a full eval."

  Jullien growled at her before he dropped his tools and braced himself for the pain of pulling his shirt up. Not that he had to. He'd only lifted it to his armpits before her brother let out a foul curse.

  "How the hell are you standing in that condition?"

  Ushara grimaced. "It's bad, isn't it?"

  Davel nodded. "Yeah, it's bad. Shit! If you've really had worse, I don't want to know how. Damn sure don't want to know why."

  Lowering his shirt, Jullien winced as pain cut through him and he let out an agonized breath. For a minute, he feared he might actually pass out from it.

  Ushara glared at him. "That's it. You're coming with me."

  Jullien shook his head to clear his vision as he broke out into a sweat. "Mu tara--"

  "Not a single word of protest. I'm not leaving you here to suffer. That's not how we do things."

  "Take my advice, drey? Don't argue. She'll win by sheer stubbornness or meanness. Remember the earlier testicle discussion?"

  Jullien snorted. "Fine." When he went to clean up his tools, her brother pushed him aside.

  "I got this. You really should rest before you puncture a lung. Honestly? I don't know how you've missed doing it before now."

  He was right. It was a miracle he hadn't done some serious internal damage. But then, as stated, it wasn't his first severe beating. He'd learned how to move with injuries and not worsen them a long, long time ago.

  Grateful to Davel for his kindness, Jullien inclined his head to him. "Pakti, drey."

  "No problem."

  Ushara picked his coat up from the ground and to his complete and utter shock, took his hand into hers. For a full minute, he couldn't breathe as the warmth of her skin caressed his. "I can't believe you came to work in this condition. What were you thinking?"

  "That if I didn't, I wouldn't get paid. Worse? I'd get fired. Somewhere between those two ... killed."

  "You're not funny."

  When she started for the infirmary, he stopped her. "I can't go there."

  "Why?"

  Jullien was aghast at the question. "You've seen the bounty on my head. I'm not about to put my life in the hands of an unknown physician who's going to run my DNA and find my warrant. I'd sooner die of my wounds than feed a gutter rat who poisons me so that she desecrates my remains to make my bitch grandmother happy."

  "You trust me, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  With his hand still in hers, she pulled him in the opposite direction.

  Jullien had no idea where she was taking him until she came to another housing area. The condos here were much nicer than the ones where he was living. Larger. Lush. They reminded him of the politician district of Eris on Andaria where a lot of the upper aristocracy and older nobility made their homes.

  Ushara stopped at one that was painted a sedate green and punched a code into the door before she entered. At first, he thought it was her home, until he looked around and saw older paintings of Ushara as a girl with her numerous siblings. There were all kinds of toys strewn about the carpeted floor, and something warm and sweet scented the air.

  "Matarra?"

  Eyes wide, he froze as she called for her mother. "What are we doing here?" he whispered between clenched teeth.

  "Relax. She's a healer. She'll take good care of you."

  Suddenly terrified at the very prospect of meeting Ushara's Fyreblood parents, he stepped back, intending to leave at the same time an older version of Ushara came through the door in front of them. Her mother took one look at him and curled her lip as the familiar glare of hatred filled her white Andarion eyes.

  Jullien tried to flee, but Ushara refused to let go of his hand.

  Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. Turning, he saw an older Fyreblood male there who must be her father.

  And he looked as happy to see him as her mother did. He was lucky her two parents weren't roasting him on the spot with their incendiary breath.

  "What is he doing here?" her mother growled in a vicious tone that said she was about to launch her firespit at him any heartbeat now.

  "He saved Vasili's life."

  "I find that impossible to believe," her father snarled from behind him. "His kind doesn't do that. They save no one but themselves, and they have no use for us, except as target practice and morbid decoration as trophies for their walls."

  "And I was there. I saw it."

  Her father closed the distance between them. "Do you know who this is, Ushara?"

  "I know, Paka."

  "I don't think you do, atalla." He raked a cold, hate-filled glare over Jullien that reminded him of the ones his aunt Tylie would give him when he was a child and he'd try to see his mother. Just like then, it shrank his stomach and left him with that same sick, gutted sensation that made him wish he was low as they made him feel. At least then, he'd be invisible. "His grandfather murdered my father in front of me when I was a boy, and he laughed while he did so."

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