In place of her security work belt she’d tied a stylish strip of fabric over her brown tunic dress, with burgundy stripes that matched her hair.
The man lowered his eyes to her bare legs and black kneehigh boots with obvious interest. His features weren’t terrible, but he wouldn’t win any beauty contests. His nose had clearly been broken more than once. His dark hair was a mess. And when he peered back up at her face, he grinned, revealing a full set of crooked teeth.
Schooling her features, she replied, “I’m looking for a ship—”
“I got a ship,” he interrupted, with innuendo buried in the layers of his voice.
An entourage of onlookers chortled. With their matching stained uniforms and equally unkempt hair, they had the appearance of grunt workers.
“A tiny one, no doubt,” she countered, and then smirked when his mouth fell into a petulant downturn.
His friends guffawed and one slapped him on the back. These weren’t bad men, just products of a hard life and a serious lack of civilized influence. Not that she was any better. She’d practically been raised in places like this.
“The craft I seek is about to be entered in Phase Nine. I’ve been petitioned to join the crew.”
The laughing cut off and a round of brows shot up. Their surprise was natural, but not because she was a woman entering the most dangerous competition in the known universe.
No. Even the most hardened of men would have received incredulous looks. Few who entered Phase Nine would live to see its finish. The race had few rules and spanned vast distances of space. A ship without a good crew wouldn’t be expected to last long at all.
Ah, but she wasn’t joining just any crew. She would be captained by a man who had not only run the race before, but had won it. And she fully intended to be with him when he did it again.
Silently, two of the men pointed toward a corridor while the others continued to gape.
She nodded in thanks and headed in the direction they’d indicated.
After a few steps, the first man called out, “Pray, tell me your name, beautiful lady, so I can cheer for you.”
Not bothering to look back, she replied with a wave of her hand, “You’ll just have to watch the show.”
It was the thing people loved most about Phase Nine. Strategically placed cameras throughout the race would provide entertainment to over thirty planets and countless space cities. Every fifty years, it became a universal obsession. People quit jobs just to watch.
The wide passageway was crowded with people trying to get through, and she had to push her way into the crowd. After getting knocked around by a few careless shoulders, she found herself in a much larger room, where vendors offered supplies to a slew of stationed ships. She counted fifteen. The high ceilings permitted them to be flown to a loading dock at the far end.
The pungent odor of oil seeped into her nostrils. Many of the ships were in a state of disarray as workers rushed to make them ready for the long flight to come.
To her right, people lined up to register for the competition. Anyone was allowed to enter, and nearly every planet encouraged participation. It was one of the few activities that brought both the allied and disjointed sects together.
A lift vehicle rumbled by, honking as people made a path. Over the chaos, she spotted the appreciable, dark brown hair of her soon-to-be captain, Aidan. It had been cut short since she’d last seen him. He stood with a small group of men next to the open hatch of a ship. She assumed the craft would be her new home for the duration of the race.
She could hardly contain her excitement as she crossed the great room. A few months ago, Aidan had surprised her by showing up at Uli Rings, where, until recently, she’d had a nice, cushy job as head of security. The massive space city was a popular tourist destination, made up of three giant rings that spun to simulate gravity. She’d hoped to take him out for a drink and catch up, maybe offer him a job, but he hadn’t had the time.
Then a few weeks ago she’d received a transmission from Aidan to get her ass to the North Star spaceport and prepare for Phase Nine.
She’d sat back in her expensive office chair, stunned to the core. An hour later she’d been shoving clothes into a large duffel bag with the tags still attached.
When Aidan caught sight of her, he rushed forward to clasp her in a bone-crushing hug. His massive arms held her up as though she were as light as a pea. “Priya! Thanks for coming.”
As her feet met the ground again, she couldn’t help but tease, “You know, I received three more offers, besides yours. Pretty good ones, too.”
“Aw, and you chose me above all others? I’m flattered,” he replied with a smirk, and offered to take her heavy bag.
Glad to be rid of its weight, she handed it over. “Don’t be. I was considering not coming at all.” Lie.
Although she wouldn’t have answered any other call but his. Or have traveled so far just to risk her life.
“Tell me,” she said. “Why in the name of the gods are you entering Phase Nine under the banner of the Legura Dragon Clan? Since when does your clan mingle with theirs?” When she’d received the news, she’d been taken aback. Though their respective planets shared a solar system, their cultures were quite different.
“It’s a long story,” he replied, looking frustrated. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
At his back, three men stood observing; one of them was a stranger to Priya. With a smile, she approached Asher and Zeek. Seeing them brought her back to a time when she had been truly happy – when they had all worked together as mercenaries on a POS rust bucket of a ship. Only one other face was missing from the reunion. But she knew if she saw him, her joy would turn sour.
She greeted her old crewmates with big, squeezing hugs. In turn, they messed her hair with a rough, playful palm, effectively ruining her sleek braid.
She slapped their hands away with irritation and undid the tie to run her fingers through her now-
tangled locks. “In some corners of space, people get shot for that,” she chastised.
They only laughed.
“You two haven’t changed at all,” she grumbled.
“Have, too,” Zeek protested. “Check this out.” He lifted his sleeve to reveal dark ink against his otherwise tan skin. The tattoo was outlined in red, as if it was still healing. It was the image of a buxom, black-haired lady looking over her shoulder, hand covering her mouth as her obscenely short skirt rode up to offer a peek of white panties.
“Classy, Zeek.”
He gave her a boyish grin that was accentuated by his short blond hair and stormy blue eyes.
Turning to Asher, she asked, “How about you, Ash? Any tattoos?”
She knew better. Ash’s skin was as tough as metal, with the hint of a metallic sheen. Most needles couldn’t penetrate it. His pewter, chin-length hair was tough as well. As a game, he used to pluck a strand and challenge them all to try and rip it apart with their bare hands. No one had ever succeeded, but they continued to try anyway.
Asher’s hypnotic silver eyes pinned her with a dubious expression. “No tattoos, Priya. How about you?” He wiggled his brows suggestively.
“None that you’re ever going to get to see.”
Typical masculine curiosity covered both their faces. She couldn’t prevent her impish grin. The third man cleared his throat, drawing her attention. She gasped. Legura royalty?
Aidan introduced him. “This is Prince Lear of the Legura Clan. He’ll be joining us.”
Lear bowed respectfully. A black strand of his hair fell over his face as he cooed, “My lady.” Seeing her jaw locked in surprise, he added, “Now doona be intimidated by my rugged good looks.” His accent was thick, and sounded nothing like Aidan’s.