Stark Surrender (17 page)

The woman shivered appropriately, as Mordacity vented his own amusement in a long, nearly silent laugh. Kill his own mother and not blink, indeed. He raised his glass of fine moonbrandy in a toast to the holovid of the naked couple entwined in Welt’s bed.

“Score one for you, my man,” he said.

Because he had killed the stupid, pathetic bitch—and the entire rigid, narrow-minded, religious sect to which she belonged. All of whom had rejected him, along with his dear mother. She’d taken one look at him after she bore him and screamed in revulsion. He knew this because he’d heard the good church-women whispering in delicious spite.

The elders had forced her to bear him after she was raped by his father, a wandering outlaw. Then they’d forced her to keep him. A judgment from their God, they’d labeled him and named him Mor, after some villain in the history of their religion.

Until he’d been old enough to escape their walled village, he’d been a pariah, tormented by the human children, ignored or reviled by the adults. His mother had spent his childhood weeping and moaning at her fate, and looking at him as little as possible.

And despite all that, he’d craved her affection, stupid boy that he’d been. Even after he’d finally rebelled against their abuse and escaped the village as a teen, taking with him the contents of the church treasury, he’d longed for her acceptance. Had made himself believe that if he just looked more like her, she’d take him into her arms and her heart.

After two long years of surgeries to make him look more human, one of which had caused pain so bad he’d wanted to tear his own healing flesh, he’d returned and slipped into his childhood home under cover of night. He’d awakened her with offerings of jewelry and fine food and drink—all stolen of course, but she wasn’t to know that.

She’d repaid him by shrieking the house down, throwing his gifts at him like weapons, and telling him to stay gone this time.

A few months later he’d returned to his birthplace with the gang he’d formed from toughs in a nearby city. They’d flashbombed the compound and burned it to the ground, with every man, woman and child trapped inside. Including his dear mother.

That night, the boy Mor had stood on the hilltop, listening to the faint screams of terror and agony amongst the roar of flames. He’d imagined that he could hear his mother’s voice over the others, and smiled. This, he realized, was where his destiny lay. In taking what he wanted, not begging for it, and destroying anyone who dared to try and stop him.

The man Mordacity moved his gang to New Seattle, where he set about building a new kingdom, and toppling the princes that already ruled the underworld. At the top of his list was Tal Darkrunner. And now Darkrunner had cemented his own fate by taking in the man Lode, who’d cut an inconvenient swath through GloJac recruits in the last month.

Mordacity had watched with relish the holovid of his Gorglon lieutenant stomping Lode to death ... or so he thought. Unfortunately, the cretin had been too stupid to bring the body back with him. And his victim had survived somehow, only to be taken in by his arch enemy, Darkrunner.

Gods, what foul luck. For which the Gorglon was now nursing acid burns of his own.

“I gotta get back,” Welt’s woman said, interrupting M’s thoughts. She sat up and stretched, showing off her enormous breasts. She looked like a milking beast.

“All right,” Welt said, rolling off the bed and reaching for his pants. “I’ll see you soon enough. You remember what to do?”

The blonde rolled her eyes at him. “I wasn’t born yesterday, big man. I can do what you want with one hand tied behind my back.”

Welt grabbed her roughly and hauled her against him, mashing her breasts against his chest. “How about both of ‘em tied, and your ankles as well?”

She crooned and rubbed herself against him.

Mordacity ignored the rest of their inane banter, his gaze moving to the cavernous main room of the complex, which had once been a warehouse where large containers of goods were stored. The building had been abandoned when part of the main floor gave way, revealing a sinkhole. This bothered him not at all, as he and his gang simply used the rest of the complex. And the blackness yawning beneath prisoners hung over the railing gave such a deliciously sinister effect.

He scowled as he remembered the annoying female, one of Darkrunner’s minions, who’d actually escaped her bonds and leapt to her death. She must have drowned in the black waters at the bottom of the sinkhole, because spybots sent down after her had revealed her partner’s body on the edge of the hole, but not hers.

Maddening, because he hadn’t been finished with her. He so loved flinging acid on them, and then watching them twist and scream in agony, at least until their hearts stopped.

Ah, well. At least he’d been able to direct his minions to dump the male’s body where he’d be found by one of Darkrunner’s people, and set loose a few spybots over the body. He had savored the look on the faces of those who found him.

He set his white slouch hat with its chartreuse satin ban back on his head, straightened the lapels of his white leather duster, and strolled from the room, humming tunelessly to himself.

Soon his gritty kingdom would grow, as he wrested control from the smug citizens of the city. They’d be like so many livestock, bleating in their pens.

Waiting for whatever he chose to deal out to them.

Chapter Nineteen

The LodeStar cruiser set Kiri, Kai, Bronc and Joran down on a busy street corner in the middle of old downtown New Seattle.

Kai looked around them with deep suspicion. “This is it?”

Shivering despite her own clean, warm silk and wool ensemble and cashpaca wrap, Kiri indicated the closed up nightclub before them, the holovid marquee muted. “Flash is Tal Darkrunner’s club. Actually, the whole building belongs to him.”

“Link him to let us in,” Bronc said, glowering at a pair of men who had paused to leer at her and Kai. “Before I have to hurt someone.”

Just then one of the double doors behind them opened a crack. A compact blond man in a brilliant purple leather vest and black pants stood there. Despite the chill, his chest and arms were bare, highlighting his musculature. He waved them in.

“Before we come in, you need to know that I’ve alerted my people at LodeStar HQ that we’re here,” Bronc told him. “Anyone tries anything, you’ll have major firepower raining down on your club.”

“If Tal wanted to trap any of you, would he do it in broad daylight at his own club?” the blond man asked, one brow flying up. “No. Now either come in or go, but let’s not stand out in the damn street any longer than we have to, ‘kay?”

Joran nodded, Bronc led the way inside. The door slammed behind them.

Bronc and Joran scanned the huge club. A few people were directing cleaning droids, and a trio of dancers were practicing on a lighted, floating stage to music only they could hear, but otherwise it was quiet and dim.

The blond man looked Kiri over with interest. “You must be Kiri. C’mon. The, uh, package is down a few levels.”

“Down a few levels?” Kai repeated. “What the hells?”

“Kiri,” called a voice. A slim woman in red leathers was threading her way through the stacked tables and stools. She, unlike Kiri just now, was the picture of class in her exquisitely fitted ensemble.

“It’s Scala Raj,” Kiri told Kai. “The friend who saved me on the SixPac.”

Scala smiled and held out her arms. Kiri moved into them, and gave the Serpentian a hug. “It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

Scala chuckled. “Starry. Tal takes good care of me.”

“It’s just so good to see you free. Although, if I could go anywhere, I wouldn’t pick this city.”

“Ah, but this city has Tal in it … and Darry.” Scala and the blond man exchanged a smile that made Kiri blink.

“Okay,” she said. “Um, why did Tal link me? What does he have for me?” She cursed the ganger for making her ask this question of his current lover. Why in hells had Tal hung onto anything of hers, anyway? And if he had, why couldn’t he just send it?

Scala took Kiri’s arm, and squeezed. “Girlfriend, you’re gonna have to be brave, okay? Because Tal does have something for you. Something very important. But it’s ... damaged. Come on, we’ll take you down.”

Nameless dread filling her, Kiri exchanged a worried look with Kai. They followed Scala through the bar and into an elevator that whisked them all down four levels.

In the elevators, Scala pointed a finger at Joran and Bronc, her gaze fierce. “You two. What you’re gonna see, remember—Tal had no hand in this. None at all.”

Bronc scowled, and Joran gave her a dangerous look, but nodded. The elevator glided to a stop and opened on a wide passageway.

“This is the stronghold,” Scala told them as they walked. “And this is our medcenter.”

She touched a door, and it swung silently open, revealing a small foyer with three sealed hatches. The left one slid open to a white room holding medtech equipment and an airbed.

A man lay in the bed, apparently sleeping. Or perhaps unconscious, because where his head and body weren’t covered in white bandages, he was covered in horrific bruises.

“Who ... who is he?” Kiri whispered. Premonition raised the hair on her nape. “Is he alive?

“He’s alive,” Scala said quickly. “Kiri ... it’s Stark.”

Kiri’s heart nearly stopped beating. All her tangle of anger and resentment at him washed away in a flood of fear. This was Logan? He looked as if he’d been hit by an airbus.

Numbly, she moved nearer to the bed, until she stood beside it, looking down at the sleeping man. His face was turned toward her, so that the unbandaged side was partially hidden in the thin covering on the pillow, but she could see enough.

“Logan?” Joran crowded in behind her, Bronc on his other side. “God, it is him.”

“Oh, my God ... Logan.” Kiri reached out, then paused, unsure if there was any place on his body she could touch him without causing him pain. But she had to know that he was really alive.

She laid her fingertips cautiously against his bared bicep, and relief surged through her so powerfully she swayed, her head light. His skin was warm.

“Great God,” Joran muttered, “What the hells happened to him?”

As if triggered by that deep voice, the muscles beneath her fingers went rigid, and Logan exploded into action. His hand shot up and he grasped Kiri by the throat, yanking her down across his chest so her face was inches from his.

Choking, so shocked it didn’t register at first that she could not breathe, Kiri gaped at him in utter disbelief. Logan glared up at her, his eye so dilated it was nearly black, teeth bared ferociously.

“Who are you?” he snarled. “Did they send you to finish me?”

She grasped his wrist with both hands, struggling to pull it away from her throat. She tried to answer, to protest, to beg for mercy, but she couldn’t breathe. Black spots floated across her vision as she fought him. He didn’t know her at all this time..

Shouts echoed around her. Joran leapt forward, adding his strength to hers, yanking at Logan’s arm. But Logan’s grip was like cerametal, even when Bronc grasped his arm with his huge hand.

“Let her go!” Kai shouted, moving in on the other side, his hands on Logan’s throat. “Now, or I’ll end you!”

“Logan!” Joran yelled. “Let her go! It’s Kiri!”

“Get something to tranq him,” Bronc thundered. “Now! Or I’ll have to break his arm!”

Logan rasped something more, but she couldn’t hear through the roaring in her ears. Then Scala dove through the midst of them, slapping something on Logan’s bare chest and holding it down.

Slowly, the deadly grip on her throat slackened. Kai pulled Kiri away from the bed. She sucked in agonized breaths as she lay in her brother’s arms, dizzy, sick and terrified, her throat searing.

Their deep voices echoed around her as a stranger in a white medsuit squatted before her, waving blinking instruments over her. Something cool was laid on her throat, and the pain slowly subsided, until she could breathe again.

“Is she all right?” Joran asked. “Did he injure her?”

“She’ll be okay,” the stranger said cheerfully. Metal ornaments studded his face under untidy silver hair. “Gesics for the pain. No piloting for twenty-four hours. You want a tranq for your nerves?”

“Let them give you something,” someone said.

Kiri shook her head. No more meds, even if her heart was thundering in her chest and she felt shattered. She leaned heavily against Kai, fighting dizziness.

Scala knelt before her, wincing as she squeezed Kiri’s free hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, girlfriend. Lizard shit, this is my fault. I thought Stark was still tranqed, after he tried to attack Tal. This new patch will keep him down for a few hours.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Bronc demanded over Kiri’s head. “Is his head injury that bad?”

“Not gonna go into that,” Scala said. “You need to get him to his doctors, and they can tell you more.”

“We’ll take him in the cruiser,” Joran said. He was leaning over the bed, his face pale. “God, it’s really him, finally.” He reached a shaking hand to touch Logan’s shoulder.

“He’s badly injured,” Bronc said, “but thank God, it’s him. Ms. Raj is right, we need to get him back to LodeStar HQ. Have his own medtechs examine him.”

“I’ve already done quite a bit of work with him,” said the medtech from the head of the bed.

Bronc gave him a look. “Yeah, no offense, but you’re Darkrunner’s so we’ll wait to hear what our techs say.”

The man shrugged, rocking on his heels. “Just saying, I do stellar work.”

“We need intel on his injuries, before we move him,” Joran said.

The tech bounced onto his toes, his eyes bright. “He’s been lasered in three places—upper left chest, right shoulder, and lower left leg. He has a fractured skull, broken arm, smashed fingers, seven broken ribs, lacerated gut, fractured tibia, contusions and bruises over eighty percent of his body. Also, acid burns over fifty percent of the scalp and his right eye.

“As I said, I’ve had him in the regen tube, so the bones are knitting, at about ninety percent. Another session will take them all the way. Internal organs are still delicate, so your medtechs will want to keep him on a soft diet for a few days. I gelglued the cuts and contusions and he’s been patched with antibiotics. I don’t do skin or hair regen, so your surgeons will have to make him pretty again.”

He shrugged. “The eye is gone, can’t bring it back. I suggest a cybernetic prosthesis.”

When the weirdly cheerful voice had finally stopped, the room was silent for a long moment.

Tal strolled in, followed by Creed. Tal went to Scala’s side, eyeing his visitors with disdain. Creed joined Joran at the bedside, hanging over Logan. “My God, he’s mortally injured.”

“Yeah,” Joran agreed, his voice breaking.

Kiri stared at Logan’s profile in the bed, horror reverberating through her. How was he still alive, much less strong enough to grab her with such strength?

“Did the head injury cause him to lose his mind?” Kai asked. “Is that why he went for my sister?”

“What happened to her?” Tal looked Kiri over.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Kai snapped. “He attacked her. Tried to strangle her. He’s out of his mind—rezzed.”

Tal gave Kiri a smirk. “Love hurts, eh, starry girl?”

Kai left Kiri’s side with a rush, going for Tal with single-minded ferocity.

Bronc moved just as swiftly, getting between them, with one huge hand on Kai’s chest. “Stand down, Kai. He’s just yanking your chainrope.”

“No one talks that way to my sister,” Kai protested, fighting his grip.

“Fair enough,” Tal said, not looking the least bit sorry, until Scala elbowed him in the ribs. Then he winced.

“Go and look after her,” Bronc said quietly to Kai. “She needs you to support her, not avenge her.”

“Thank you for this,” Creed said to Tal. “We’ll return the favor if needed.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve breaking major laws,” Bronc muttered.

Tal snorted. “You all owe me, all of you Starks, not only for this, but for sending me on a wild meteor chase across the galaxy, and I mean to collect.

“Also,” he jerked his chin at Logan, “Thank the magnate there for drawing all of us to the attention of a ganger who makes me and mine look like angels.’

“You know who did this to our brother, you can help us find him and kill him,” Joran said, his face like cerametal.

“No,” Tal answered. “You’ll be helping me. I’m the one who knows this city, I’m the one who has informants everywhere, I’m the one has the power here, not you Starks. Now get him the hells out of my place. And don’t forget to link me, will you?”

With a last glare at all of them, he turned and swept out of the room, Scala at his side.

“There goes a dangerous man,” Bronc noted.

“So are we,” Joran gritted. “Now let’s get Logan to LodeStar HQ and some real doctors.”

“It’s going to take more than that,” Kiri mumbled.

But only Kai heard her. He helped her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her, supporting her as they followed Logan and his entourage back to the elevator.

Once inside, Kiri leaned against Kai, but her legs seemed not to want to hold her up. Bronc stood on her other side, and he eased nearer, a huge hand under her near elbow, and spoke quietly to Kai. Then he bent to slide one thick arm under Kiri’s knees, lifting her high against his broad chest. “Hang on, girl,” he said quietly, “You’re all in. I got you.”

Kiri laid her head on his shoulder and let her eyes close. Around her, the men talked quietly.

“She can’t take any more of Stark’s shit,” Kai said, his voice strained and angry. “I want him kept away from her from now on.”

Kiri wanted to tell him not to worry, that she wasn’t going near Logan again, but she couldn’t seem to summon the energy to speak.

“We’ll take her to HQ, have our medtechs check her over,” Bronc said. His voice was a deep, comforting vibration under her ear. “Get her a session in the regen tube.”

“We’ll be spending our time at HQ medcenter for a while,” Creed put in. “We should all move there. Logan’s apartment there is just as comfortable as the scraper for the women, and they’d be close.”

“Less vulnerable than the scraper,” Bronc agreed. “Nothin’ short of a nuclear blast can damage HQ.”

“Yeah,” Joran sighed. “From what Darkrunner said, Logan may have stirred the waters here a bit too hard … awakened some things better left in the deeps.”