Recon Marines II: Marine's Heiress, The (8 page)

Vin strode toward the steps that
hovered at the rear of the building and led to the open loft, his
footsteps soundless on the wood floor. The first rays of the rising
sun blazed through the narrow front windows but the golden light
only lit the front half of the half of the room and left the rest
in warm shadow. Vin climbed the steps, his tread unaffected by his
wounded leg and apparently by any intention to wait for
her.

Emma shook her head at the wonder of
the immaculate room and hurried after him. His continued adherence
to military neatness told her he hadn’t left the life behind so
long ago. The steps up to the loft and the space itself met her
expectations. Even the narrow bed pushed against the wall might
have been found in any military barracks. Shelves held small stacks
of clothing and a variety of gadgets beyond Emma’s knowledge.
Except one tall open closet that had been converted into a weapons
locker.

Vin stored his guns in it, each having
its place. He took off his boot and frowned at the damage done to
the leather. Then he placed them on a shelf beneath his clothing, a
spot obviously left for them. Next he undid his thick belt with its
holsters and other loops likely made to hold more weapons. He
rolled the belt and set it on another open spot on the
shelves.

Emma swept her gaze around, thinking
what a great research subject Vin would make if she still worked in
the field of psychiatry. He wasn’t old enough to have made a career
of the military yet it had taken over his way of living. She
guessed his age at somewhere in his late twenties.

Vin drew her attention back to him as
he unfastened his pants and slipped them down over his slim hips.
He wore skin hugging underwear beneath and they hid little of his
form from her. Everything about him was lean and muscled. Even here
to act as his doctor, she was too much a woman for her gaze not to
snag on his privates outlined beneath the clinging material. He
didn’t notice her regard as he turned away and flicked on a lamp.
He lifted his torn pants to the light and examined the holes. He
folded them and hung them on the back of the only chair in the room
and then turned back to his shelves.

His silence made Emma feel like an
intruder as he plucked a bottle off a shelf and a thin white cloth.
He returned to the chair and sat on it, finally fixing his gaze on
hers. Without a word, he held out the items to her as if issuing a
challenge.

She knelt at his feet, trying to ignore
the intimacy of her position. Vin met her gaze with his usual
indifferent stare as she took the bottle from him. Sitting back on
her heels, she read the label. Neodermal Plus. She’d heard of it
but never used it. The formula had been developed to treat wounded
military personnel in the field. It contained antibiotics and
biological mixture meant to seal over small wounds. Only the
military had access to this advance product.

Very little hair grew on Vin’s calf,
just some scattered soft, black curls. She used the cloth to wipe
away blood oozing from half a dozen punctures. Though Vin’s muscles
should have been relaxed, his calf felt like a rock beneath her
hand. The Neodermal meant she didn’t have to flush the wounds or
inject antibiotics into each one. It took her only a short while,
and then her mind had no place to go except to notice the man
sitting so quietly in front of her. And the bed only two steps
away.

But the weapons locker caught the
corner of her eye. She knew almost nothing about guns but his
supply looked new and complicated. She’d never forget the whine of
the shot he’d fired at the moose.

She screwed the cap back onto the
Neodermal while her mind raced. The name Smith was so obviously
made up but many of the residents of Hovel Port settled here to
escape attention. But maybe Vin wasn’t here to avoid something.
Maybe he wasn’t ex-military at but still an active duty soldier.
Perhaps his helpfulness to Hovel Port only served as a way to get
close.

“
Are you finished?” Vin’s
voice startled her though he spoke quietly.

Emma’s heart climbed into her throat.
Everyone was out on the streets somewhere, too far away to hear a
cry for help. She dropped the bloody cloth and handed him the
bottle. “You should be fine.”

Vin picked up the cloth and stood up.
He grabbed her hand and helped her rise, gentle despite the
abruptness of his action.

Emma backed away from him, noticing the
sleekness of his body. A body built for speed and strength. His
long fingers wrapped around the bottle, fingers familiar with
weapons and probably trained to kill in many other ways. But her
stepfather wouldn’t want her killed.

Vin’s brow creased into a frown. He
looked down at his bare legs and then back at her. For a moment the
ice in his gaze melted but it quickly cooled again. He turned his
back to her and spoke over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Emma mumbled something and hurried down
the steps. The neatness of the downstairs now appeared more ominous
than revealing as before. The coldness of his eyes wasn’t the
emotional shield she’d thought it was. It was the cold of a killer,
a hunter, sent to find her.

Chapter Five

Vin used a rag to rub oil on the chain
running from the motor to the wheels. He’d put the remote crawler
together from parts he’d found in the shop. The previous owner had
been a slob, but he had a good supply of parts and the tools needed
to piece them together. Working with his hands relaxed Vin as it
always had. He’d mastered the skill of fixing things easier than
anything except killing. He could look at anything mechanical and
understand how it worked.

The peaceful work gave his mind leave
to wander. His damned body had betrayed him while Emma knelt at his
feet. He’d agreed to allow her to treat his wounds because he
thought it was the expected behavior. Wouldn’t most men want a
pretty lady doctor to treat their wounds? But then he’d spoiled it
with his uncontrolled reaction to … everything about her. The scent
of her clean hair. The tangles in the lovely blood mass from being
called from bed in the early dawn. The lightweight clothing that he
suspected she’d slept in. The smooth touch of her hands on his bare
skin. The fragile curve of her neck as she surveyed his sleeping
quarters.

Yalo had been like him, trained to look
at things rationally. Except for when they were alone together.
Their nights together had replayed in his dreams, chasing him from
sleep into bitter wakefulness. The desire that had heated his body
this morning when Emma breathed on his bare leg rivaled anything
he’d felt with Yalo.

The murmur of voices outside, Moe and
Vannie, drew Vin from his glum thoughts. Had Emma told her massive
friends about Vin’s lustful reaction to her ministrations? Had he
spoiled his chance to stay close to her?

Moe and Vannie strode in and then
closed the door on the fading daylight. The big men caused the
floor to vibrate as they approached his work bench. They walked to
the other side so they faced him across it.

Vin tried to read their intentions.
Anger, perhaps. Did they think to use their big fists on him? Would
the village throw him out if he hurt Moe and Vannie in
self-defense?

“
Spoke to Emma a bit ago,”
Moe started.

Vin continued oiling the chain but
watched the men while he did. Moe paused, one of those annoying
things civilians did, waiting for an answer without a question
being asked.

Moe and Vannie exchanged one of those
glances. Vin felt a twinge of regret. He’d been able to communicate
without words with his fellow Recon Marines. That part of his life
was over, the other Recon Marines happily settled with the
civilians. They’d save Queen Callie and all her womenfolk except
Yalo. The regret threatened to blossom into bitter grief that
ambushed him again and again.

“
Lots of people that
settle here have things they keep private.” Vannie leaned toward
Vin. “We don’t ask questions of those that come here as long as
they conduct themselves proper and do their share of work. People’s
past is their own business.”

Vin finished with the oil and used a
clean spot on the rag to wipe his hands. Again the pause for a
response. He tried. “I don’t care about your pasts.”

Vannie leaned further so his chest
touched the piece of machinery. “Not the past we’re interested in,
Mister Smith. We’re interested in your present.”

Vin gestured at the workbench. “I’m
making a remote controlled crawler to clear the streambed so on one
else ends up like Russ. I should have it ready for a test in the
morning.”

Moe’s face darkened. “Are you trying to
be funny? We don’t mean right this minute.”

“
I’ve been working on this
since I checked outside the north gate for tracks.”

Vannie slammed his open hand down on
the work table. “Are you trying to get your face beat
in?”

Vin looked from one man to the other.
“No. I don’t think anyone here could do that.”

Moe and Vannie grinned at each other
and then separated so each came around an end of the bench. The
shift of Moe’s body warned Vin a moment before Moe’s big fist flew
at his head.

Vin evaded the heavy swing and kept
moving down and away, hearing the swish of cloth from the other
side as Vannie started his attack. Vin slid beneath the table,
sweeping his legs out to take Moe’s feet from under him. Before the
big man hit the ground, Vin rose to his feet and faced
Vannie.

Vannie swayed off balance from his
missed punch but tried another one anyway. Vin avoid the jab and
grabbed Vannie’s wrist as it passed by his shoulder. He tugged
Vannie forward. Vannie stumbled into Moe who was trying to regain
his feet. They went down in a heap together. After much cursing
they stood up and faced Vin again.

“
You may not beat my face
in.” Vin thought again of the men’s odd words though perhaps he’d
misunderstood. “Perhaps I don’t understand your question. Why do
you think I’m trying to be funny?”

Moe and Vannie exchanged another one of
those glances but they both relaxed their clenched fists. Vannie
sighed and shook his head. “We’re going about this wrong. Will you
answer some questions, Vin whatever your name is?”

They didn’t believe Smith was his name.
Vin had no papers or smooth talking to convince them. “Ask your
questions.”

“
You’re a soldier,” Moe
said.

It wasn’t a question but Vin corrected
the statement. “I was.”

Vannie looked around the shop. “You’ve
cleaned this dump up in one day to military standards.”

Vin tried a shrug. He’d seen civilians
use the gesture often and practiced it in front of the mirror along
with other expressions that would help him fit in.

“
Why are you here?” Moe
asked. “What brought you to Merris Five and to our little
village?”

“
I told you I came to find
work.” Vin had thought his lie was perfectly convincing.

“
Tell us the truth now,
lad, or we’ll continue this fight.” Moe’s fists tightened
again.

Vin wondered how they’d seen through
his clever fabrication but he had a small truth ready. “I need to
avoid more populated worlds.”

The big men relaxed again. Vannie spoke
next. “You’re here to hide out? Are you a deserter
then?”

Vin knew the word but not all the
nuances of it and none of the connotations fit him. “I didn’t
desert, but I don’t want to be found by anyone.”

Moe stuck out his hand with a short
nod. “We had to be sure. You’re not active military
anymore?”

Vin shook Moe’s and then Vannie’s hand.
“I haven’t been part of the military for over a year.”

“
I understand how those
habits stay with you for a while.” Vannie grinned. “Now tell me
about this trap finder you’re making.”

Vin showed them how the machine worked.
“It should clean up to a hundred yards a day and one man can
operate it.”

“
This will go a long way
to getting the men back to work at full speed again. We’re already
three days behind and only half the men worked today.” Vannie
grinned wider.

“
I have another question.”
Moe didn’t look near as happy as Vannie. “Dillon swears he checked
the gate before dark. That means it has to be someone who lives
here.”

“
I found tracks outside
the fence. Someone climbed over the wall a few yards from the gate
and took down the bar. I tracked him half a mile up the road to
where had a vehicle parked. Probably a hover scooter.” Vin recapped
the oil and carried it to the shelf where he’d placed other
lubricants. The rag went on another shelf, folded and placed with
the other bits of cloth.

“
So someone from the
Hadrason Mining complex did this.” Moe sighed. “Why? Why the traps
and now this sabotage? We’re a poor little village. Taking what
they let wash downstream doesn’t hurt them in any way.”

“
You have something
someone is willing to kill for.” Years of duty battled with Vin’s
personal plans. He wasn’t a Recon Marine anymore, only a man set on
revenge. Protecting civilians was no longer his job. He would help
them only to maintain his cover. “When did the trouble
start?”