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“So far, he hasn’t given me a reason not to. The fact Ken Bryant brought him on board is the only negative so far. I’ll probably give the General Assembly my vote of confidence when I’m called to report in a couple of weeks.” Kuran offered a comforting smile as they reached Stacy’s shuttle. “It doesn’t mean I won’t keep an eye on him for the foreseeable future.”
“About Ken—”
“I don’t have anything new to report on that front. Where are we going for lunch?”
Stacy suppressed a frown as Kuran quickly changing the subject. When it came to Earth’s second-in-charge, her bodyguard and lover had grown a lot quieter lately.
Was he hiding anything from her? Something worse than Bryant’s long-ago teenage wife?
Chapter Three
Kuran cursed himself, though he kept his expression pleasant. He slid in the pilot’s seat of the shuttle and fired the engine as if nothing off had occurred, but he hadn’t missed the searching look Stacy had given him.
He hated keeping secrets from those he cared for, particularly his would-be Matara. Becoming a spy for the Kalquorian fleet had been his best means of keeping her safe from potential attackers, however. Spying meant hiding much of what he knew.
Bryant had bigger secrets and was a bigger threat than Stacy realized. He was behind attacks on her and the Kalquorian space station orbiting Earth II, which assisted the newly populated planet. Only Bryant’s potential connections to those who might be part of a treasonous collective kept Kuran from hauling him in for a “talk.”
Kuran agreed thus far with Admiral Piras’ orders to hold off on arresting Bryant and subjecting him to interrogation. If the bastard set off another attack on Stacy, however, Kuran might choose to bring him in before alerting his superiors.
He lifted off and glanced at her, taking in the dark-eyed, black-haired beauty at his side. She’d quit studying him to bring out her handheld computer, no doubt reviewing her campaign speech again. Love surged in his fierce warrior’s heart. He hadn’t come to Earth II in hopes of finding a female for his clan, but that’s what had happened. Beyond her sexiness, she possessed a brilliant mind. He’d do anything to keep her safe.
No one fucked with his woman.
* * * *
Nobek Selt caught himself clenching his fists. He forced them open, spreading them wide and choking off the growl rising in his throat.
The head speaker of Earth II’s General Assembly had one of those faces. Haughty, made for sneering. His muddy eyes had a bulging aspect. No amount of whatever Cal Mitchell wore to keep his graying hair from budging from its perfect coif or his expensive tailored suits or his luxurious office could hide the fact he was a self-satisfied asshole of an Earthtique.
Or maybe it was just Selt who saw him as such. Presumably, Mitchell had some good qualities. His office, boasting pricey artwork on its walls and fine furnishings, attested to his success. He was leading his opponents in the polls. He had a wife and six kids, so his lifemate must have found something redeeming about him.
Ancestors, someone had sex with this guy. On multiple occasions. Since he was phased and no one could witness him do so, Selt shuddered.
The human’s gruff tone was condescending as he rocked slowly in his hover chair behind his behemoth of a desk. “Of course you find doing your job difficult, Miss Nelson. You’re only, what, twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
The object of his derision, standing on the other side of the desk, spoke in a clipped voice. “Twenty-eight, Speaker Mitchell.”
Which he knew, if he’d deemed Blythe Nelson important enough to research. Mitchell was thorough when it came to such things. Then again, he might have determined due to her age and the fact she was female, Blythe wasn’t worth investigating beyond a blatant assessment of her trim figure.
Blythe was no doubt aware of how she was regarded by the man Selt believed to be the worst of the Earthtiques, aside from terrorist-hiring Ken Bryant. To Mitchell, she was no more than a young, pretty woman. Therefore, she was a creature to simultaneously desire and revile.
Don’t defend yourself to him, Selt silently urged her. Don’t do him the honor of making his opinion important.
Her temper…or something else…had been woken, however. “The records of original Earth, for the most part, are lost. No amount of digging can uncover what no longer exists, Mr. Speaker. What I have managed to find is pass-protected and—”
“What you’ve managed to find is very little. I’m sure you did your best. Still, I can hardly pay you for a few sentences of guesswork. I’ll contact a couple of your colleagues, ask what experienced men can discover. Thank you and good day, Miss Nelson.” Mitchell waved her out of his office, his gesture negligent.
Blythe’s pixie face reddened. She turned on her low, pointed heel and marched through the door.
Selt scowled at Mitchell and hurried in her wake. He would have loved to hang around to keep an eye on the speaker and catch him doing something underhanded, but as far as the spy division knew, Mitchell was clean. An unmitigated asshole of an Earthtique, but he’d done nothing to warrant them watching him beyond his contacts with Bryant.
Yet.
Selt’s long stride kept up easily with the petite news reporter who had a penchant for digging into the histories of government officials. It was her uncanny ability to find dirt on the currently powerful which had brought her to the attention of Admiral Piras and his chief agent on Earth, Head Operative Kuran. They were interested in the information she’d uncovered, rather than Blythe herself.
She wove among the aides and representatives of the General Assembly. Traffic was heavy, thanks to everyone trying to escape for a lunch hour of peace. Despite the crowd and Blythe’s tiny stature, she was noted. Scowls erupted on faces.
Selt gave her credit. Blythe asked the legislators the most pointed questions of the journalists. She wasn’t afraid to chase after her quarry while shouting questions at the top of her lungs, a vid drone flying ahead to grab footage of whomever had attracted her well-honed sense for a story. It amused Selt to note how many powerful men and women hunched their shoulders and hurried past Blythe to avoid her.
