A small ground vehicle sat on the edge of the field, a trio of blue-hued headlights cutting light cones through the dark.
He used field goggles and his ship’s sensors, but detected nothing. Ground recon on a planet like Argentus—built up and populated by hostiles—however, was not and had never been his strength.
He took a deep breath, shoved Klym’s pearls in his pocket, and jabbed the button to open the hatch. He’d see her tonight. Or first thing tomorrow. It had been too long since their last marking, when he’d left too much unsaid. He’d followed her, just two days behind every step of the way, as her freight transpo had stopped at various peace planets, and every time he’d been half convinced he’d find out she’d been captured or arrested by the Alliance.
She hadn’t, though. And for that he was proud. Even if he was pissed that she’d sold her pearls—and he was pretty sure he’d paid three times what she’d gotten for them.
The door slid open with a hiss, and an onslaught of cool, humid air hit him.
He walked across a damp blue field. Nearly every planet he’d been on had its own version of night music and, as lush and blue as Argentus had appeared from space while landing, he didn’t doubt they had plenty of life here. But for whatever reason, there was no music tonight. No insects, no nocturnal animals calling to one another. And out here in the country, no hovers or rigs, no ships in the sky, no city-hum. The night was quiet, the sky overhead a uniform cover of thick, gray clouds that reminded him of Klym’s eyes. He felt strangely at home.
If anyone from the government was out there waiting for him, they were quiet too.
When he got close to the vehicle, a door hissed opened, and Franno stepped out, steely hair and that recognizable narrow nose.
“There are about five million men in Merentide and a few hundred thousand women,” Franno said, his chin thrust forward. “Just about every last one of them will kill you if they see you.”
“Only if they find out I’m here.”
Franno sent Tor a look he’d known since the day he’d had his first kill. It was the look a man gives another man when he’s trying to establish the pecking order. “You love this girl?”
Tor ignored that because it was a stupid question, and yanked open the door of the vehicle. “Where is she?”
Franno rounded the front of the vehicle and opened his own door. “At a ball surrounded by a few hundred military officers. No place safer in the city.”
Tor climbed in to a nice big seat. Klym had never made anything easy. “Beats City Hall.”
Franno snorted. “The building we’ll end up in is right across the street.”
“I know.” Tor had studied the map for a long time. First, they’d go to Franno’s house, and then he’d be taken to the War Office. He stretched out, rolling his shoulders. “I like this seat.”
Franno shrugged and guided the vehicle down a long road, through slim trees with broad leaves that stretched into the sky like fans. The city twinkled in front of them.
“How did you bypass my arrival?”
“I didn’t. I just programmed the computers to recognize you as my son’s ship.”
Tor made a noise, and Franno laughed.
“Not Agammo. My older kid. He works in acquisitions.”
Tor tried to imagine how he’d go about sneaking an Argenti vessel onto Vesta. The Alliance had so many satellites, automated security systems, defense bots, any foreign object would have been shot down instantly. “Seems like it shouldn’t be that easy.”
“It’s not. He’s got clearance. He brings in… covert items.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Means whatever the government wants off books.”
Sounded like people or weapons. Tor shrugged. In some ways, the Argenti were as bad as the Alliance. “You got the holo to Agammo?”
Franno leaned back in his seat. “I sent Agammo to get the Premier. His mate, Malina, has the holo. She knows more about the media. It will be all over the news within the next hour or so.”
“You watched it?”
Franno met his eyes, the light from the vehicle reflecting back on his face, bathing him in ghost light. His eyes glinted. “It was effective.”
“Will she see it?”
“If there’s a digi in the vicinity. I think so. She’ll be at a ball. They’ve got digis there.”
Tor grunted.
“What happens when an Argenti and a Vestige fuck?”
Tor rolled his eyes. “Everything you could imagine. It’s the best of both worlds combined.”
Franno shut up after that, and they didn’t speak as they entered the city’s quiet streets. Tor had a vague impression of tall marble buildings, uniform and organized, all lit up like individual landing pads. Wide streets with tall blue trees, pedestrians everywhere, and tidy bridges crossing over a wide river that glistened, flat as glass.
“You ready?” Franno asked.
Tor laughed grimly. Was he ready? To get Klym back? He’d been ready since the day she’d left, biding his time with promises for all the things he’d do to her the second he got her under his thumb. All he needed was a door between him and the rest of the world, and he was getting inside her. He was never letting her go. He fucking hoped her Argenti pheromones addicted him, or addicted her to him, or threw them into a three-day orgy of blurry red haze, or triggered heats, or all of it. Or none of it.
He didn’t care. He didn’t need any of that. He’d make their own haze, because he was going to shove his way inside her, and no matter what happened, he wasn’t letting his way out for at least a week. “I’m ready.”
Franno nodded and pulled under a building as white and marble and
