Without warning, the aquatic leaped to his feet. He knocked into Relda, pushing her into the side of the tent. By the time Relda caught her balance, the aquatic had scooped up his friend and tossed him over one broad shoulder. He cast her a scathing look before he yanked a knife out, sliced open her tent and dived through the gash.
Dammit, they were getting away.Relda felt a tingle along the back of her neck. Her power wanted out. She could stop them. It would be so easy.
No.She closed her eyes and fought the urge back.
Seconds later, the door flap snapped open and a tall man stooped through the opening before straightening to his full height.
Relda managed to keep her face blank, but inside her mental groan was loud and long. Of all the men she wanted here right now, this was the last one.
Medina’s new marshal was big. She guessed he was around six foot five by the way his head nearly brushed the top of the tent. His shoulders were broad, his legs were thick andmuscled, his large hands cradled a laser rifle with practiced ease. Everything about him was big. A sly thought twisted through her brain that he was probably big in other places, too.
His body was encased in black cargo trousers and a starched, white shirt that was covered by some sort of black vest that looked vaguely military. It had lots of pockets and affixed to the front was the shiny, silver star of the Marshal’s Office.
And his aura…well, it always made her a little breathless to see it. The beautiful shades of blue of someone who knew who he was, who was centered, protective, solid. And whenever he looked at her, she saw the alluring tints of deepest red appear. Heat and desire.
Behind him, two uniformed deputies and a little girl entered. The marshal nodded at the slash in the back of the tent and the taller of the two deputies disappeared through the opening.
The child raced forward, dodging around the marshal to hover by Relda’s legs. Bindi was one of Medina’s street urchins. Lucky to be seven years old, Relda paid the girl to run messages between her tents. Relda could have used her Sync to contact her employees, but the street kids needed the money.
She barely managed to stop herself brushing at the blonde curls escaping Bindi’s dirty cap. Relda knew the girl didn’t like to be touched. “Thank you for getting help, Bindi. Can you sit with Alia?”
With a nod, Bindi hurried over to plop down beside Alia.
“Ms. Dela-Cruz, it seems you’ve had some trouble.” The marshal’s laser-sharp, blue gaze took in the state of the tent and then hovered on Alia’s bruised face. As he slung the rifle over his shoulder, a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“You’re a master of understatement, Marshal Calder.”
His face was too rugged to be called handsome, but there was a solid toughness to it that was appealing. Dark eyebrows slashed over eyes of the palest blue, like chips of ice. She knewthat with one glance, he’d catalogued everything in the tent and could list what was broken and all of Alia’s injuries.
He raised a brow. “You going to hit me with that?”
Relda blinked and realized she was still clutching the lamp. She dropped it and hurried over to Bindi and Alia. Gently, she put an arm around Alia’s thin shoulders.
The marshal crouched beside them. He’d recently moved to Souk to take up the role of Marshal for Medina after retiring from the Galactic Security Services. She’d heard all kinds of rumors about him, but most said he’d been some sort of Special Forces soldier.
Looking at him, she believed it. It wasn’t just his tough look, it was the way he held himself. Still, controlled, and prepared for anything. His watchful gaze didn’t miss a thing. When he’d first started the job, he’d toured the market and met all the stall owners. She’d made him tea, which he’d taken a suspicious sip of before drinking. And for once, Relda hadn’t pulled her usual flirting routine. Marshal Calder wasn’t someone she wanted to have notice her.
She had secrets she wanted to keep hidden. And he was a man who’d dig until he’d uncovered everything.
“Two men attacked Alia. I need to get her to a medbooth.”
“Relda fought them off.” Alia’s voice was a little shaky, but edged with awe. “She was amazing. Not afraid at all.”
Calder glanced at Relda for a second, his eyes glinting, before he looked back at the injured young woman. “I’m not surprised to hear that. Alia, I have a couple of quick questions, then we’ll get you to the medbooth, okay?” His tone smoothed out as he ran through his questions—what the men looked like, what they wanted, what they’d done. His no-nonsense style seemed to calm Alia. She answered in a shaky voice but thankfully her tears had dried up.
Calder went through every step of the attack, taking notes on the Sync he pulled from one of his pockets. He was very focused on what the men wanted. Relda managed to keep her face blank.
The Trojan Moon.How could anyone have recognized it? And what was she going to do about this mess?
“Okay—” Calder tucked his Sync away “—tomorrow I need you to come to my office and work with my artist. I want images of these attackers.”
Alia nodded.
Calder looked over his shoulder at the deputy standing to attention in the doorway. “Deputy Hasan, can you please take Ms. Alia to the closest medbooth?”
Relda stirred. “I can take her?—”
“I have some more questions for you, Ms. Dela-Cruz.”
