Chapter 1
One
Gus stopped short at the sight of what was waiting on her doorstep. "That definitely wasn’t there the last time I was home.”
A dead man lay in front of her shipping container.
Such things weren’t exactly a rarity on Titan space station where criminals outnumbered upstanding citizens by at least three to one.
But they didn’t usually turn up on her doorstep.
The pirates and gangs who called this place home preferred to space their victims.
Less messy that way.
Since security’s authority only extended as far as Titan’s airlocks and the local military detachment was woefully understaffed for the area, it was an efficient method for criminals to rid themselves of incriminating evidence.
Not like this—whatever this nonsense was.
For goodness’ sake, there was a trail of blood leading right to her home. So much DNA evidence that even a group as corrupt as Titan’s security would be hard pressed to ignore it.
How did they find this place anyway?
The Tombs were where shipping containers on Titan were sent to languish, forgotten and abandoned. A twisting labyrinth that even Titan's dock workers sometimes had trouble navigating. Hence, Gus's reasons for choosing it as the location for her lair.
She'd gone so far as to ensure the container she called home fit in with the overall ambiance of those around it. Its exterior sufficiently weathered so as to not stand out. Its paint chipping. Its walls dented.
She’d even taken the time to tag it with some graffiti. Colorful dragonflies and pretty orchid mantises. Even a butterfly or two.
Gus was no artist, but she thought it had turned out quite well.
A faint sound brought Gus’s inner tirade to a halt.
Her grip on the pot of Nawana orchids that she was clutching tightened as another groan came from the dead guy. Creeping closer, she nudged his hand with the tip of her boot.
It twitched.
Not dead then.
Internally, Gus groaned. The only thing worse than a dead unwelcome guest was a living one.
Gus took her privacy seriously, and this stranger’s presence had every one of her instincts insisting she take a page out of the pirate playbook and relocate her new friend out the nearest airlock.
Just as she was contemplating which airlock was closest, her unwelcome guest rolled partially onto his back. His hair fell away from his face to reveal the tips of his very pointed ears.
“Shit,” Gus moaned.
There was only one race she knew of with ears like that. The Tuann. A reclusive bunch who shunned contact with other races and mostly kept to their corner of the universe.
“What are you doing way out here?” Gus muttered.
He should be in Tuann space, doing whatever his kind typically got up to. Not here jeopardizing her hard-earned seclusion.
Her siblings had named her the hermit for a reason. For starters, she didn’t take kindly to visitors. Especially not ones who reminded her of things she preferred not to explore.
She’d boxed up and sealed away anything pertaining to the Tuann, and the fact that a very long time ago, she’d been one of them. Taken as a child before she had a chance to understand what or who she was.
The presence of this Tuann jeopardized all that work, bringing to the surface the few memories she had of her childhood.
Of resting in the cool shade of an immense tree.
The pattern of its branches and leaves against the backdrop of a beautiful sky.
And the kind eyes and gentle hands of a woman Gus thought might be her mother.
There were other things she remembered. Scary, terrible things. But she wasn’t going to think of them right now.
Perhaps ever, if she had her way.
Pushing such thoughts from her mind, Gus crouched beside the stranger to get a better look at him.
He was muscular; that much had been easy to see even from a distance.
His thighs and biceps were the size of small tree trunks.
He was wearing a jumpsuit that she assumed he'd stolen given how ill-fitting it was. There was also evidence he’d been held captive.
Bruises and ligature marks around his wrists and neck.
Blood crusted at the corners of his mouth and under his nose.
None of that explained his unconscious state, however.
The blood beginning to stain the front of his jumpsuit might. She wouldn’t know that for sure until she removed it. If she removed it. She still hadn’t decided if she was going to help this stranger or feed him to her orchid.
At the moment, she was leaning toward using him as plant food.
All such thoughts ground to a halt as she caught her first full glimpse of his face.
She was so fucked.
Because not just any Tuann had collapsed on her doorstep.
It was Caius freaking Achert. AKA the specter of Draloon. AKA the mad hound of Roake's Overlord. Not to mention the House's primary military commander and tactician.
House Roake was one of five Tuann Great Houses. It enjoyed a certain reputation for being protective of its members. They would hunt for their missing commander, and they had the resources and power to tear apart the Consortium to find him.
Titan wouldn’t stand a chance. It would fold like the cheap jumpsuit Caius was currently wearing.
That wasn’t the most worrisome part, however. It was Caius’s connection to Kira, her sister, that really made Gus’s head ache. When it came to the safety of her people, Kira was like a pitbull. She’d latch on and wouldn’t stop until she recovered Caius.
Dead or alive.
Woe to everyone on Titan, if it was the former.
Gus could kiss her peaceful life of solitude goodbye. No more reading books to her plants or playing them classical music. Kira wouldn’t spare her just because they’d grown up in the same hell.
Gus would have to go on the run.
The thought filled her with distress. She’d spent years cultivating some of her babies. Precious days and nights creating the perfect environment needed for them to thrive. Some of them had been with her for decades. They’d become her children. The only ones she was likely to have.
She could relocate them.
She had the time. It would take days for Kira and Roake to track Caius down. She could be long gone before they got anywhere close to the star system Titan drifted on the edge of.
Of course, if Kira found out Gus could have helped but didn’t, there was no guarantee her sister wouldn’t pursue her.
Underestimating Kira and how far she would go for the people she cared about was probably the worst thing Gus could do. The forty-three had done that more than once and been slapped in the face every time.
No. Caius had to stay alive. That way when Kira arrived, Gus could dump the Tuann on her sister and wash her hands of the entire affair.
Her House member recovered, Kira would return home. Hopefully, with minimal structural damage done to the station.
Gus nodded to herself. Yes, she liked this plan.
She’d just made her decision and stood up when a group of humans dragging a struggling child rounded the row of shipping containers.
Gus didn’t know who was more surprised. Her, the unkempt looking trio of humans dressed in the stolen uniform of Titan’s dock workers, or the young boy caught in their clutches.
“Ah,” Gus said lamely.
This was awkward.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” a human demanded.
He tossed the child to one of his cohorts as he scanned Gus from head to toe, deciding she wasn’t much of a threat a second later.
Gus understood why he’d come to that conclusion.
Unlike most of her siblings, she was on the smaller side.
Only about five foot five. Average for a human but short for a Tuann, she knew she didn’t look like much.
Slender. Willowy even. With limbs that looked like they would snap in a harsh gust of wind.
Her hair was a rich brown that her former master had likened to dirt when she was young.
Gus was always of the mind that it more closely resembled fertile earth. But to most, dirt was still dirt.
Her eyes were probably the most memorable thing about her. The pale green of a dewy morning.
Those eyes were why the masters had made her their little pet. And likely why she survived those early years before she proved her talent with toxins. Both in the creating and surviving contact with them.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” the human taunted.
His companions snickered when he looked back at them.
Gus’s attention drifted toward the child.
He was young. Only about eight or nine years old. His eyes filled with resistance and calculation as he eyed his captors.
In a small way, he reminded her of some of the forty-three. So rebellious even with the odds stacked heavily against him.
Of course, they’d been better at hiding their feelings. They’d had to be. Their masters had enjoyed punishing insubordination. Something as simple as an unguarded look was enough to get you sent to the punishment chamber.
The boy’s bravado melted away as his gaze landed on the unconscious Caius. His lower lip trembled as an expression like that of someone witnessing the death of all their hopes settled on his features.
Gus’s hands clenched around the pot of orchids, her heart hurting for some odd reason.
“My nephew,” the human said, seeing where Gus’s attention had landed.
What a bald-faced lie.
They may have dressed the boy in a cheap, standard-issue station jumpsuit, but that couldn’t hide what he was.
A Tuann.
Like Caius.
Like Gus herself.
“Come on! We don’t have time for this,” one of the men holding the child complained. “We’re already late.”
The first man sighed, pretending at resignation as he advanced on Gus. “It’s your bad luck to run into us today.”
His bare forearm brushed against the orchid’s leaves as he reached for Gus.
“Oh dear,” she said, letting him grab her. “That was decidedly unwise.”
The man’s leer changed to that of a grimace. Every muscle in his body tensing as he started seizing.
“Ricardo?” one of his companions called.