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33
“Where is that brave little she-devil of yours?” a gray-haired man with a sandy beard and a dusty brown cap asked Aidan from the next table. He had light stubble along his wide jaw and upper lip, the hands and build of a man who knew a hard day’s work, and an easy smile that said he was comfortable with his station in life. They’d settled at a taproom far enough from the arena that it was of little interest to most spectators.
Aidan took a swig of ale and let the cool liquid slide down his gullet.She-devil. “You must be referring to Onnika.”
“Yes, the cute little white-haired gal.Hoo-wee, if I was younger…” the man wiggled his bushy eyebrows. “She’s something special, isn’t she?”
Clearly this was one of her many fans. The poor bastard. “She’s something, all right,” Aidan agreed tersely.
The man’s brows briefly knit, but then his buoyant demeanor returned. “Indeed.”
His crew were busy watching the array of holo-screens displayed around the room, all offering feeds from different phases of the race. The racers were now widely spread out. Most had made it past Phase Four, but a few stragglers still contended in Phases Five and Six. Yet The Gauntlet was receiving prime airtime. Many had attempted it, but no one had made it through to the end.
One contestant died trying, a man named Gunta.
It was a gruesome death, but Aidan doubted poor Gunta had even seen it coming when the spear shot out of a hole in the wall, penetrating his skull like a ripe melon.
Aidan barely listened as the energetic gray-haired man continued to engage him in conversation, detailing Phase Nine through his eyes, each leg of his trip and all the racers he favored to win, the ones he’d bet on to lose, who he thought was cheating, blah, blah, blah. Then the man said something that brought Aidan to startled attention. “So where is your gal? Lordy, she’s not planning to run The Gauntlet, is she?”
Ignoring the icy chill that ran through him, Aidan clamped his fingers around the neck of his bottle and took another long swig. This time the cool liquid burned going down. Even with his festering anger toward Onnika, the thought of her running The Gauntlet had slivers of dread snaking up his spine. If she hadn’t been sent to sabotageDragoon, she’d likely have made the attempt…because she was out of her damned mind, or possibly had a death wish. But he now knew everything she’d told him was a lie. Everything.
She wasn’t hiding out from some besotted man, in need of protection. She’d been sent by any one of their many competitors to ruin their chances of winning. Simple as that. And she’d been doing a hell of a job, slowing them down, distracting him, making him believe she wanted him. Making him want her in return. And when none of that had worked, she’d settled on blatant sabotage.
He drank deep once more, waiting for the alcohol to blunt his sharp emotions, then growled. “She’s back onDragoon…resting.” What was he going to do with her? She had to know they’d get through that hatch eventually. With no events to participate in, they had plenty of time to work out the best way without damaging the ship too much. Vin had already suggested torching a hole in the metal. He’d said it would take an hour, maybe two, tops.
That is, if Zeek hadn’t already managed to evict them. Would they be gone when he returned? Something in his chest twisted painfully—anger over her betrayal, he decided. Nothing more. He told himself the only reason he wanted to see her one last time before she vanished was to throttle her. And to demand why she’d so callously ripped her way into his heart only to leave him bleeding.
“Hoo-wee!Just seeing folks navigate that monstrosity makes me shudder. I feared your gung-ho gal would enter for sure.”
“Undoubtedly.” If she’d actually been interested in helping them win.
“You’ll not let her, I hope.”
Another man sitting nearby interjected. “Believe me, you can’t control Onnika unless you have her on a tight leash.”
Aidan recognized Tag instantly. He tried not to sneer. Were they in fact working together?
A sharp crack of thunder rumbled through the roof. It sounded as if the storm raged directly above them.
Overrun by bitter resentment, Aidan swilled his drink.
Tag raised his glass in a show of solidarity and glugged some kind of clear liquor, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before adding, “And sometimes even that doesn’t work. Ornery little thing, that one.”
“You act like you know her pretty well,” Aidan said tightly, embarrassed by the hint of jealously in his tone.
The wide grin that split Tag’s face made Aidan want to introduce the man to his fist…and his boot. “Oh, yes. I know her well.”
Aidan squeezed the base of his ale.
Asher and the others were now feigning interest in the feed, but their levity had died down, and Aidan could tell they were paying close attention to the conversation at hand.
Tag blithely continued, “She’s a bit of a wild one, am I right?” He gave Aidan a conspiratorial wink. Aidan’s dragon clamored to revolt, the heat of the change rising in his gut. He managed to tamp it down, but only barely. It took all his strength to stay planted in his seat when all his nerves screamed to smash his rival’s face in.
He finished off his ale and ordered another when Tag leaned over to mutter, “Has she seduced you yet?”
His crew shot hostile glares at Tag. Even the old man gave him a shocked once-over.
“I don’t discuss the private lives of my crew with hard-up strangers,” Aidan disdainfully replied.
